Titicacaman Records CAT#26
I remember one early morning as a child in Santiago, Chile hearing one of my relatives exclaim “he pissed in the kitchen trash can!”
Sleep has always been a touchy issue for me. As a child I dreaded it, it seemed like dying, the dark quiet hours dormant in another dimension, dreams, nightmares, night sweats, the wanderings about the house. I was a sleepwalker you see, and if sleep was like dying, sleepwalking meant I was a ghost. I’d do things I would not remember the following morning, things I could not explain, like pissing in the kitchen trash can. I’d wake up in places other than my bed, which always confused me… how did I get there? What do I do when I sleepwalk? I’d ask myself as I walked back to my bed, rubbing my eyes, knitting my brow. It was a strange nocturnal event that was part of my make up, no one else in my family sleepwalked and no one had clear answers to explain why I walked in my sleep, to explain the weird workings of the human mind. To this day, the time to lay down to sleep is my least favorite. Don’t get me wrong, I’m like any other animal, I love a good night of sleep so, what gives? Hypnophobia?
There’s a name for practically every fear, a catalog of phobias no one can cure, few can explain but, all can be numbed. Can you feel it? The clash of what the norm calls reality and the reality that eludes us? First agoraphobia then claustrophobia. First anthropophobia then monophobia, trips and traps, real or imagined, such is the lyrical and musical thread of Sleepwalker, my third album under the moniker Son of Radul, produced in 2017, a challenging year. January and the Trump take over made my skin crawl… witness a nation pulling its hair, the news and social media crafting a disgusting soap opera starring The Ogre. I went deeper into reclusion mode, depression and a growing bevy of old and new phobias plundered my 2017 as I tried to stay focused and productive recording the music in this album, among other things. Then in late February I got the terrible news, my 18 year old nephew Jules, who had been struggling with what doctors were labeling schizophrenia, took his own life. It was a major shock and loss. We all thought he would pull through his affliction, adapt where needed, the doctors had him on heavy meds, who knows if that helped or made matters worse, Jules went deeper into the land of numb and absent, on to, no longer there. This album is dedicated to him.
Fuck You was one of the songs I was developing when I got the news of Jules’ suicide, the lyrics and mood of the song struck me like a soundtrack for his sorrowful, violent act and set the tone for the album and the rest of 2017. The tracks in Sleepwalker play like a collection of mood swings and vary greatly in instrumentation, a healthy blend of electronic and organic. The genres bounce from the exotica of Fox & Plymouth to the funk of Ack House to the droning of Apnea, full of blue hues, strange and moody spaces. Sleepwalker is also upbeat, bright and melodic like in Rabid Dogs and Silver Moons and Umbilical Cord, a song that remembers the connection of umbilical cord to mother as a first love. Numb & Numb + fly over the numbing dispensaries conveniently located anywhere you look, we are a doped up culture, full of promise and suicidal tendencies, living a conditional party plan. As grim as it sometimes gets, Sleepwalker is colorful, complex, often uplifting and ultimately a positive way to end a turbulent year, new music, new art and a fuck you.
Dedicated to Jules Radulovich, RIP nephew… 12/25/98 – 2/28/2017
“This is an album that takes grief to the max, an act of therapeutic exorcism that remains lingering in the brain long after you’ve heard it.”
Hans Werksman. Read the full review in Here Comes the Flood.
All music by Son of Radul
Written/recorded/produced/performed/designed by Marcelo Radulovich at Titicacaman Studio, 2017
Titicacaman Records CAT#21
The chairman of the Cultures and Genres Committee for Exploratory Arts steps up to Son of Radul as he enters the large chamber carrying a guitar case and rolling a cart with various electronics instruments, cables and such. “There you are! Glad you made it, come on in.” Son of Radul smiles, “thank you Mr. Hitzig.” Son of Radul wheels the cart towards the computer station and sets down his guitar case next to the large rolling chair, he is there to carry on a commission, which calls for an album of new hybrids of music. “We’ve got the room all set up for you. There’s water and food in the fridge, coffee, wine and amenities on the counter, if you need anything else there are more instruments, supplies and party elements in the back room.” Mr. Hitzig nods towards the door with a gold star on it. “Very kind of you.” “Sure!” The chairman smiles, “we want you to be comfortable and at your best Son! By the way, I hope you don’t mind the mutilated mummy on the old rusty hospital bed in the corner” the chairman points to it. “It is part of a show we had here last year and we haven’t brought ourselves to remove it… we don’t want to wake it, ha ha ha!” Mr. Hitzig laughs heartily, Son of Radul stares at the mummy. “If it really disturbs you I can have the team come and remove it.” Son of Radul turns to Mr. Hitzig, “it is captivating!” “That it is!” The chairman laughs. “It doesn’t bother me Mr. Hitzig,” Son of Radul says as he looks up at the sky through the open dome, then looks about the room and notices a half-naked woman clutching her knees against the back wall, next to a ladder that seems to stretch up to the cosmos. The woman shyly stares at Son of Radul, the chairman examines Son of Radul’s face. “Um… who is she?” Son of Radul quietly asks the chairman. “Oh, you don’t recognize her? She’s your muse Son!” Mr. Hitzig laughs and pats Son of Radul on the back, “my muse?” he asks as he stares at the shy woman for a few more seconds, not knowing how to respond. “Hello” Son of Radul waves at the woman, she answers with a smile. “Ha ha ha, I bet you two have a lot to talk about!” Mr. Hitzig laughs. “I’ll be on my way then, we look forward to hearing what you create Son!” The chairman shakes Son of Radul’s hand, “and don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. Oh! You received instructions on how to operate the chamber’s controls I trust?” “I did yes, I have them with me.” “Very well, the control panels are over there” the chairman points to a wall, there’s a separate panel for the dome, it can get pretty cold at night up here so feel free to close it.” “Thank you Mr. Hitzig I appreciate the opportunity” Son of Radul bows. “You’re welcome, thank you! We picked you out of many, many prospects you know.” The chairman’s phone buzzes in his coat pocket, he takes it out and reads the message. “I need to go down the mountain for a meeting now, but have fun OK!” Son of Radul nods and tries to smile, the chairman smiles and waves at Son of Radul as he heads towards the exit, “I’ll be in touch.” Son of Radul waves back and nods.
He takes off his coat and looks about the large chamber, drums, amps, guitars, basses, keyboards, various microphones and stands all set up and ready to go. He stares at the old rusty hospital bed in the far corner with half of a mummy sleeping on it, he knits his brow then turns to the strange young woman… his muse? She stares at him, she’s still in the same pose, sitting on a blanket against the back wall, clutching her knees. “Hi… I’m…” Son of Radul nervously takes a step towards her then stops, she smiles and nods her head once, “work” she quietly says in a happy tone. Son of Radul smiles, nods his head as well and walks towards the computer, he sets up a new session in Pro Tools, turns on a pre amp then paces to the counter and pours himself a glass of red wine, he sips it with a smile on his face as he looks about the large chamber. He turns to the half-naked woman and raises his glass, “esta es una fiesta de fantasmas somnambulos, salud!”
Insomnia Party Feathers is Son of Radul’s second album composed of 15 tracks: 6 songs in spanish, 6 in english plus 3 instrumentals.
Read a review of Insomnia Party Feathers in San Diego Troubadour:
“The roots listener with a taste for experimental music will find Marcelo Radulovich’s Insomnia Party Feathers to be interesting and provocative.”
All music by Son of Radul
Written/recorded/produced/performed/designed by Marcelo Radulovich at Titicacaman Studio, 2010-2016
Titicacaman Records CAT#15
Alter ego likes to experiment in the mud. It lays out photographs of the past, present and future, in a kaleidoscope pattern. It re-arranges them so future is past, it repeats itself and takes notes. It cuts through the goo and along the way teaches us about ancestry. Mutts of a planet, erecting monuments, building new machines, nursing tiny sounds.
Use Bleach is a collection of sound art pieces by Marcelo Radulovich under the moniker Son of Radul.
All music by Son of Radul
Marcelo Radulovich: phonography, electronics, radio, drums, bass, guitar, saxophone, vocals
Recorded/produced/designed by Marcelo Radulovich at Titicacaman Studio, 2004-2014
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