Tag Archives: sound poetry

Dai Coelacanth – Distant Aphid turn the wheel of scabs

Dai Coelacanth: “Elizabeth hated her brother. The family bought him at auction. When they got him home he was covered in a noxious dust. He had to live in the barn for the first three years. And now he was in the house. He had a room filled with rare antiquities. He drank blood straight from the sack. Mother gifted him shares in a successful worm farm. Father begged him for his blessings. What did Elizabeth get, as the true born, the rightful heir? They hired unskilled thugs to pull…

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 has a walkman. Other people have a smart phone. Both walk the streets and talk freely into a microphone. Both transmit messages. Dai makes cassette walkman art. And I wonder if he is the only…

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 was in town and I was going to go with a neighbour … but she died in a horrific accident. Down by the river where the construction work is going on. New buildings for new…

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 ears to the very far end of lo-fi recordings. The recordings could reveal secrets of the mystic and the obvious and how these two worlds can meet. The works of Dai Coelacanth could be a…

Dai Coelacanth – Missing Pagan Satellite Found in Dump

I hope Dai Coelacanth is here to stay with us. He started with accidental travel reports from holidays in Greece and Wales. The sound was raw, brutal, and somewhere hidden in the mesmerising collection of sounds, there was a sense of strangeness combined with the ordinary, that is so typical of foreign places. DC now continues to send in reports from his homeland. Is he a voice artist? I hope not. Does he scare little children? By no means. Does he use material that other people throw away? What a…

Dai Coelacanth – Drunk Skulls in Slime/Strange Strange Love

Tiny sleepy creature under my shoe stick to it and travel with me while I walk to the ruin of the cathedral. Tiny slimy sleepy creature eat a hole eat part of my sock it is your blanket. Gangreen at home an old radio transmits world war news the surgeon refuses to die. The magazine is soaked An ink tattoo on the wet t-shirt Carry the headlines on your ribs endless. Collage – voices – announcements – damaged tape – street poetry – England – Dai Coelacanth This is what…

Cassette Review: Giorgio Dursi – Poetry reading with sound footnotes

In front of the mirror, a man opens his mouth. It goes a long way, his look, because his mouth is wide open. It is bigger than his face. It is bigger than his face and he thinks of Fantastic Voyage an American science-fiction movie. The film is about a submarine crew who shrink to microscopic size and venture into the body of an injured scientist to repair the damage to his brain. The man in the mirror doesn’t see that words leave his mouth. Words that are shrunk to…

Dai Coelacanth – Fishing for Crab in an Eerie Coffin

Dai Coelacanth is a person with a cassette walkman and a voice. He has been to Greece. He has been to Wales. That’s all we know. Fishing for Crab in an Eerie Coffin is an improvised account of his visit to Wales. Think collage, think sound poetry, think why does he talk with a funny voice, or, don’t think,  just listen and clean a fish. In his words: Need to get out. Put my feet to work. Whip them into action. Do as I say. I’m the Colonel. How strange. Take a…

Dai Coelacanth – Greek Seance / I’m your psychic

We don’t know anything about the person who calls himself Dai Coelacanth. The best thing you can do is to believe that this tape came to us as a message in a bottle, or rather as a tape in recycled and sealed wine box. Recorded in Greece, it said. On a Greek Island, observed by the Gods and the tourists visiting the home of those Gods. A tape almost ruined by the heat of the sun. And its content an onomatopoeic attempt to sound like the undertow that drags all the…