22-02-2004

Paul Austin - The Transmissionary Six

"Five digressions"

Our hinah family close relation Paul Austin is the co-pilot (along with Terri Moeller) of the strange and mellow music rocketship named The Transmissionary Six, a mixture of folk music and more ethereal sounds. Since January he's also steered a submarine called Fear of Speed, which offers interviews, fictions, galeries... In a nutshell, the kind of bonanza we love to visit!

These are the five Marks that Paul Austin picked:
Mark Hollis
Mark Ryden
Mark Eitzel
Mark Kozelek
Mark Everett


Mark Hollis
Voice of talk talk creator of a self titled record that totters alone on the jiggling, beautiful cusp of socio-osmotic whatnot, either the most unselfconscious singer ever or the most selfconscious but sure as FUCK not in the middle and the spaces the spaces the spaces between the chords the notes the vibrations the microtonal offhandery that made this gorgeous fucking thing well can you top laughingstock and spirit of eden of course not but he equalled it, completing the holy trinity, mark hollis you cheeky fucking fucker - call me


Mark Ryden
America's greatest living painter y'know? the physicality of the paint and the meat and the paint and the meat and the paint and the meat and somewhere in there christina ricci, but blood, lovely microtome, all that's right and wrong and nothing that might be y'know just...okay... renaiss ance in gang colors, colonel sanders freed the slaves and it's lovingly rendered right here on a slice of cake, mark ryden you saucy boy - call me


Mark Eitzel
Absolute beauty and offhand genius capable of everything giving us far less but what the fuck he doesn't owe us anything he's already given it, right? unpatriotic california anarchist in a natty chapeau, please mister jesus help him outgrow novelty songs put us on my knees again with the wind knocked out of us and do it with panache guile and economy; why not? you've done it before, you can do it at will. unrewarded uncompensated unsatisfied, enigmatic without romance, it's not what the people want but those who do can never get enough, come on little lord bigwheel - call me.


Mark Kozelek
Crown prince of turgid sonics and songs of the frail and canine, every now and then a perfect moment and then it's back to the pentatonic onanism. what the fuck, dude? why do the gifted piss it away and the less than gifted take notes? ov erheard you say something in a SF mens room at a vic chesnutt show so impossibly full of shit decided i couldn't listen to you anymore that lasted four days. shut up and spew pure and wonderful things, you cocky bastard - don't call me.


Mark Everett
EVERETT, aka "E", dallying with nursery rock and the bone crunching power of the universal. revealer of nothing, what's with the shades maaaaaan, saturday morning baby with a capo and an F chord, soulman of silverlake? keep it comin' love don't stop it now cut to the bridge UH! slice it open and share it and do it with that jimmy smith organ. too smart too cool too good and who are you? you're a loser, not what you appear SORRY not buying it. you've got the message, grandmaster oliver everett, but hold on what time is it? call me at rock o'clock; the machine'll be on but i'll pick up.