from an early age. he spoke the secret language. outsiders within. in a crowd he stands alone. his vision is not to be trusted. life is long breath is short. his heart chisels memories. invents invites insight.
the ideas come fast. and loose. talk to me.
Take a listen: http://soundcloud.com/chris-forsyth
Chris Forsyth sounds like he could play guitar all day. Normally that statement would not be a good thing. We can imagine endless noodling, strong boy-smell informs the room, the air stifling. But Chris Forsyth's compositions take us on a journey to another place.
There is a cascade of repetition and organs, and raga like refrains that build and transmutate into a gypsy drone, a bee in your ear, yes yes yes.
His song Pharmacist's Boogie, like the song cycle Paranoid Cat, take the instrumental guitar sound to new sounds. Velvets meets hoedown meets Chuck Berry and Robert Quine. You have to hear him to come to love him. The video for Pharmacist's Boogie is also quite brilliant. The camera reveals glimpses, never the whole, but a small part of the band playing the song, but the frame keeps obscuring the players, occasionally revealing parts only, never the whole. And from the sum of the parts, and the shards of repeated beauty we come to a new scraped and polished aural space. The boogie like Junior Kimbrough, with ? and the Mysterians channeling early Glass, but definitely still a boogie. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2S8xAQx8oM