There is a place where the people who want to be with compelling frequencies go. They go there to feel relief from worry. Guides move them around and they would think they were dancing but really the guides would be moving them away from heavy frequencies so they wouldn’t get tinnitus.
Suppose some of these people were really far from home; the guides would attach them to their home frequency so they could return. To be home is a feeling that one is totally comfortable being alive. This is what Dave Davies is doing. His Aschere Project is aimed at healing the world. Anyone can be healed, he says in an episode of the Rock Spirit Radio podcast.
His song “Strangers” is one of my all-time favorite Kinks songs.
I have also always loved Dave’s voice; it’s on the high side and it soars.
It has changed with age, slightly raspier; the voice of a man who has been around the world many times.
The reason that I know this music heals is because I was listening to it all last week and just yesterday I had the best conversation with my mom. I’d been thinking about all the incredible times we had together like going to the top of the Empire State Building one summer night and that sort of thing. Scottish people aren’t emotionally “showy” and the Americans I know are total wacko-feelers (I myself am emotional); anyway it can be confusing but the twain can meet apparently.
Aschere music is electronic and resonates through the body. You can feel it in the heart.
Try it! You might finally talk to your estranged (fill in the blank).
Ray, Dave’s brother, imparts different sentiments in his songs. He is the main songwriter for The Kinks. His information is pragmatic or demonstrative for the world we are faced with typically. He’s a wise sort of person who sees the pitfalls of getting too involved with anything. In his song,”Juke Box Music”, the subject is a person so involved in the stories in songs, she retracts from the wider reality.
One can imagine many people getting lost in song; really lost, which wouldn’t matter if people didn’t need each other but they obviously do. Cells in isolation die; cells communicate through each other doing this well can be one of the joys in life: activation and engagement.
Trying to kill oneself and failing could be the unifying factor for every single person in this world.
This is a song Ray wrote about a man who tried to kill himself and failed: “Life Goes On.”
I think it’s really healthy that he wrote about this stuff; most people don’t. As far as I can tell, people do not want to be around “sick” people or to ever think of themselves as being mentally sick. It doesn’t really make sense because almost everyone I know gets a cold about twice a year and sometimes strep throat. Why wouldn’t their mind which is also really reactive get a cold or a virus? Another screwed up things about being “sick” is, “healthy” people run from you so that the only people you may share time and space with will also be identified as sick. Naturally, this makes development challenging. You could really get down about it if you let yourself. Hey wait, Ray is here, with his song about eternity beyond misery: Lookout!
It worked for me. This song is called, “Have a Cuppa Tea,” or a cigarette (you might as well if it means not offing yourself, I mean don’t smoke if you’re not addicted but if it’s between a cigarette and a steep drop, go with the smoke… or the tea. Yes, it is definitely better to go with the tea.
Naturally everyone wants The Kinks to play together again.
I am no different. I love the way they work together and now they have so much experience to bring to their songs. It is not my job to pressure anyone into doing anything they are not in the mood for.
Instead I have a modern alternative. What you do is you play their music at the same time. Open two tabs and play them together on the computer or two albums, spin them together if you have the turntable, whatever you prefer.
For instance, Dave’s song: “Echos”
with the Kink’s Song, “Stormy Sky”
Together they sound really magical and Ray and Dave are together again.
Here’s some more albums to love:
Cue the song:
This is Also a Dolphin
for Dave and Ray
I do not pay someone
to listen to my problems
because I’m in a progressive
state where therapists are everywhere
and free to the needy.
I’m in the library across
from an office of therapy.
I am watching the hand
in the office window. Clearly,
the hand is the client.
Shit, as soon as I
mentioned it, he retracted it.
Maybe not, yeah, it’s back.
There’s a ring on him.
He pretends to be whisking
an egg. Now bouncing atop
the blond armrest. He opens,
lifts as if listening to
music; or he is palsied.
Period. It’s away now. Period.
No! It’s back doing capisce;
understand in italian. Lily bud.
It is a pale hand. He’s
pointing now. Fist hitting his
armrest. He’s opened fingers, it’s
away from the window. No,
it’s back. It’s up near
his chest then hits armrest.
Maybe this is a woman?
Now it’s whisking in tighter
circles, presumably, a smaller egg.
Less work, less concern, Why
did I assume masculine previously?
It was a thick ring.
But women do that too:
wear thick rings. It’s 50/50.
The hand was not hairy.
Our hands are bigger now.
It’s gone. Now it’s back
up: bouncing. Nervous but insistent
Who knows what this hand
does away from the window?
In the sticky ear, poking
it’s owners nose. Pointing. It’s
pointing. Rude or raw confidence.
Now it’s two hands pointing.
Hello! It’s like a chevron.
Bouncing, now the sign for
money: fingers wearing each other
out. It’s away from it’s
window. I’ll give it five
minutes. I don’t have forever.
It’s back at a new
angle. I see the polar
fleece sleeve of the owner.
which blends with the reflection.
Yes, it’s back; arched like
a sea creature. Now out
of the window, now bobbing
over the arm rest energetically,
He or she is dealing
with agitation. He or she
is not touching down now.
The hand unfurls; less weapon,
more emphasis. It diffusely points.
It points over there, beyond
the still life on the wall.
Now the “eh” sign, comme
si, comme ça. Slowing down.
Maybe he or she got
sedation. A headless body towards
me. Hello, Therapist! Nice shirt.
He lumbers with a pad.
The hand leaves the room.
Out for more problems, probably.
No, I reframe that story.
Now, she is reaching out.
Now, they come towards her.
Ish Klein is the author of Union! and Moving Day published by Canarium Books. A compilation of her videos have been released by Poor Claudia of Portland, Oregon. She’s from Long Beach, New York but now lives in Amherst, MA with the writer Greg Purcell.
Questions, compliments, (hopefully not) complaints? Contact Jackie Clark: jackie [at] coldfrontmag [dot] com. Check out previous POP essays here.