from last week played at Silent Barn, where a mass of microphones lurk overhead, in the toilet, bedrooms, stairwell, mics everywhere pick up the layers of crowd sounds, blared bathroom gossip, in the basement mics on the vacuum cleaner, on the can of cat food being devoured by the house cat, feeding back, upstairs in the main space Wharton Tiers guitar orchestra is squeezed through more mics, all of it brought back to the inconspicuous tape deck in the front room, labeled by date or band and literally nailed to the wall alongside an endless archive of parties, bands, round robins and ambiences (i was tempted to take the R Stevie Moore set down off the wall and give it a listen...)
this is Party Lab's centre for non-amoral surveillance, which you can read more about here, and listen to a daunting selection of here
we sleep in the basement, barely separated from subway thunder underneath, mics still listening, while upstairs the night shift has already cleaned the floor and is setting up a midi christmas tree and baking cookies for the next day when it will all happen again...
