Dai Coelacanth – Don’t lick the coins they will weigh you down

Dai Coelacanth arrived at Radio On in the year 2018. What is it? A prophet, a poet, a consumer gone mad? Is this the voice of Brexit? Is this a man who walked out of a Shakespearian play centuries ago and who still hasn't found a stage that fits his words?Maybe his own words can … Continue reading Dai Coelacanth – Don’t lick the coins they will weigh you down

Dai Coelacanth – RANDOM SEWAGE FROM A STRANGERS WIFE / YOU’RE A WIG, Mr MALIGNANT

Dai Coelacanth arrived a year ago. He had been on a holiday in Greece. It started then. Thinking while listening. Something happened. A man who was there when Mr. Sony sent his walkman to earth. They fell on every shop and in every home like children's balloons who had gone the reverse way. He still … Continue reading Dai Coelacanth – RANDOM SEWAGE FROM A STRANGERS WIFE / YOU’RE A WIG, Mr MALIGNANT

Dai Coelacanth – Love Station Yaba

Dare to listen. Dai to listen. Scraps, magnetic tape filth, hoarse voices, 21st century leaks, brutalist tapes, concrete footprints, yesterday's news. A huge new collage, harsh sound poem by Dai Coelacanth. Your speakers never sounded so true to life. in Dai's words “There’s something I forgot to tell you. It’s about a memory. The fair … Continue reading Dai Coelacanth – Love Station Yaba

Dai Coelacanth – BEETLE-LIKE CREATURES IN A SMALL SPACECRAFT / SHAPE-SHIFTERS WORK IN TELEVISION

Any student at an advanced academy for music and assorted experimental sonic behaviour should be given a cassette walkman with an inbuilt microphone. Not to play all the sweet cassettes that grow from the big rose of audio tapes. It would serve as a recording tool. It would open new perspectives; it would open the … Continue reading Dai Coelacanth – BEETLE-LIKE CREATURES IN A SMALL SPACECRAFT / SHAPE-SHIFTERS WORK IN TELEVISION

Dai Coelacanth – A French Corpse is a delicacy on Mars

A knock on the door. At this hour. Who could that be. Full moon peeks in through the attic window. The plant recites Kierkegaard. Red light ceiling. A muted comedian. More insistent knocking on the door. Get up from the chair. The bottle falls down. Shock-relief: It's empty. Ear to the door. Someone goes down … Continue reading Dai Coelacanth – A French Corpse is a delicacy on Mars