Wakeup 7: “Morning Boil”

Monday morning is really prime time in the underacknowledged cultural field of alarm clock sound production. So tomorrow’s wake up soundtrack is a reviving splash of cold water in the face of the somnolent city dweller.

It’s by Jamie Gray (a young artist who has played a big role in the presentation of What Lies Beneath, including making our promotional video).

Click here to download or play Jamie’s Morning Boil here.

Jamie writes:

Placing my piece on a Monday morning adds an extra dimension to the work. The old assumption that everybody hates Mondays, especially Garfield, might definitely prove to be true if you choose to wake up to my soundtrack. I consciously chose elements in this piece to reflex the “stress” of everyday life.

So, this piece could stress you out enough to make you explode, or make you realise that stress is coming and you can deal with it.

Either way, I hope you don’t explode.

Jamie Gray

Here’s the man himself, actually looking quite cheerful at the prospect of your imminent explosion:

3 Responses

  1. holy crap! i woke up quickly this afternoon. three sharp bangs and i was up and stopped the alarm. i didn’t even listen to the rest of it (sorry jamie). and i was so flustered that i banged my head on one of the beams. excellent for waking up quickly. not so great for waking up and still feeling functional. phew!

  2. Hahaha. Awesome!

    I do not mind that you didn’t hear the rest.

    But. I am sorry about your head..

  3. When video formats throw parties obsolescence is the elephant in the room. It’s been many years since I squatted a steel container so I’d forgotten what it’s like to be beaten over the head with a looped door. I think after the fourth or fifth reminder I started to see how slow motion machine guns make bullet dodging a plausible pass-time. Everywhere you go you always arrive together, hand in hand with the weather, the way phone ringing and jug boiling enter into the economy of cliches. Note how the middle third is sandwiched by a basketball metronome. Volume I of his magnum opus was systematically ignored across the continent and this left Garfield bedridden with despair, but today is the day Laura marries Lafargue, so the carbuncles must be dressed and the arsenic imbibed. Blinding pain accompanies every move, and although it was on my insistence the wedding date be changed so Fred’s acerbic wit could be here, I’m annoyed he’s using it to make the bride cry. Drafts of Volume II and III were promised to the nervous publisher months ago but Garfield is stalled, chronically, the current excuse being the need to teach himself Russian in order to read new books on social relations and economics. I’ve wrecked my life on the reef of this bookish empire and have no energy left for persuasion, now I live for legs of lamb and the hope my girls marry men who won’t similarly sacrifice their families on the alter of radical politics.

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