Coocoo for Hawaii-Puffs

I am obsessed with going to Hawaii again. Last summer, my wife and I went to Maui on vacation. It was actually her idea -- I wanted to go to New York City again, after we'd gone on our honeymoon. I won the coin toss, but let her have her Hawaiian vacation because we'd never been there before.

Turns out, I love Hawaii. While there are a lot of beautiful places, Hawaii is a different kind of beauty, one that's almost transcendent. I imagine Alaska as being the "forest-y" equivalent to Hawaii's "tropical" beauty, not properly describable in petty words. The vibe there is unlike anywhere else I've ever been. It's basically a different world if you're used to the bustle-and-flow of daily life in the continental forty-eight.

The first time we went there, we didn't do a whole lot, because we mainly just wanted to take it all in and spend a lot of time on the beach. We under-utilized our rental car and had a lot of down-time we could have better passed. The trip was further marred a bit by an irritation on my thighs, a puking incident while snorkeling Black Rock, and a hellishly long final day waiting for our plane flight home. However, none of this was much of a deterrent. I still want to go back.

I'm hoping we can return in March 2011, during humpback whale season. One of the few things I really want to do in life is see the whales in Hawaii. I also want to see the volcanoes on the Big Island, but I think overall, there's more of an interest to go back to Maui and do some of the things we skipped on the first time: going to the Old Lahaina Luau, riding bikes down the Haleakala volcano, and of course going to whale-watch. I also want to go snorkeling at Molokini crater, but I don't think Jess will go for snorkeling again, given the experience last time.

We'll see if this trip actually comes to fruition. There are other places we have in mind for vacation, and Maui is really expensive. The hotel/airfare is not too much worse price-wise than a lot of other luxury-type vacations, but once you're on an island, everything else costs A LOT -- particularly if you're going to do any organized outdoor pursuits.

I leave you with some particularly beautiful shots of Maui:

Kaanapali Beach


Haleakala:


Molokini crater:

The Conet Project

I recently discovered what is perhaps the creepiest collection of recorded audio in the history of recorded audio. The Conet Project is a four-disc compilation of "numbers station" broadcasts.

Numbers stations are basically shortwave lo-fi radio broadcasts of seemingly random information/sound. Sometimes, the audio consists of just feedback, machine noises, and other such ambience. Other times there is spoken audio, generally performed by women or children, generally distorted, and generally reciting a series of numbers or letters in any variety of languages, including English, German, Russian, and Polish. Sometimes there is musical accompaniment and sometimes it's just a voice.

No one knows for sure where these numbers stations are broadcast from or what their purpose is, but they've apparently been around since World War I and it's assumed that they broadcast encoded messages for spies "in the field", although no government agency has admitted to this. It's more fun, to me, to think of them as mysterious transmissions from beyond the grave, intended only for a select handful of people to understand and interpret.

The Conet Project has been released on CD by British label Irdial-Discs, which has also made the collection available for free download. If you're brave and interested in being scared shitless, then please go download it, put it on your iPod, and then listen to it whilst driving at night, possible while along a dimly-lit empty stretch of road.

Links:

The Conet Project on Wikipedia.org
Download The Conet Project
Numbers Stations on Wikipedia.org

Kick-Ass Albums: Misfits "Walk Among Us"

Lodi, New Jersey's Misfits are perhaps the greatest punk band of all time. Although former front man Glenn Danzig has gone on to bigger things, he's definitely not done better things. The Misfits, dressed like 50s greaser zombies with a punk rock attitude, remain one of the most original bands in the history of rock, churning out 3-chord, 2-minute sing-a-long punk/hardcore gems whose lyrics were primarily concerning horror-film mayhem.

"Walk Among Us" was their first properly-released full-length album, unleashed upon the unsuspecting listening masses in 1982. Each of the album's thirteen tracks is blessed with the most addictive vocal lines since The Beatles, and the subject matter is suitably cheesy and outlandish enough to please the most ardent horror fan. The album perfectly encapsulates what the band's about, in a succinct package.

Although it somewhat compromises the Misfits' underground credentials, they, along with precursors the Ramones, are pretty much entirely responsible for the anthemic and catchy choruses that comprise modern-day pop punk bands like Blink-182. You'll find it very hard to resist shouting lines like "I want your skull! I need your skull!" or "I turned into a martian! Whoa-oh-oh!"

There aren't many bands more addictive than the Misfits and this album is probably the most concise example of the band's simplistic, straightforward, but powerful music. There's no fat here: thirteen tracks in twenty-five minutes; verse-chorus-verse-chorus with an intro and outro here and there; aliens, monsters, and murders; devil-locks, leather, and grease-paint; oohs and aaahs and backing vocals galore. This is Halloween put to record.

Kick-Ass Albums: SPK "Leichenschrei"

Back before Nine Inch Nails exposed so-called industrial music to the masses, there were fun bands like Australia's SPK. This prototypical industrial music was less music and more like a full-length sound collage. There were no riffs or hooks to be found, replaced by tape loops, sound clips, ambient noises, and rhythm, though generally not produced by a drum kit. Any vocals or traditional instruments were generally distorted beyond recognition, twisted and manipulated into something more punishing and abstract.

SPK's second full-length, "Leichenschrei" -- which translates to "corpse screams" -- is suitably punishing and abstract. On the surface, the album is fourteen tracks of noises -- breaking glass, churning machinery, clips of conversations here and there, screams, things snapping and breaking, so on. However, taken in proper context -- namely an otherwise quiet listening environment, perhaps sans lights, and given full concentration -- the album is an extremely frightening and potent aural experience. The album exudes a strong atmosphere, a mix of terror, insanity, introspection, and nihilism, conjuring visuals that are part asylum and part morgue. If you've ever read Mark Z. Danielewski's novel, "House of Leaves," then imagine this album as the soundtrack to wandering the endless black corridors of that house.

So maybe this album can't be construed as music, but it's certainly effective listening. It requires a certain mood, a dark mood glazed with touches of existential angst, sadness, emptiness, fear, and maybe awe. It's unusual and original and soul-blackening. Listen with caution, but definitely listen.