Glenn Gould plays the Goldberg Variations.
7/2/2008 9:33:42 PM
first
7/2/2008 9:33:55 PM
ntlb
7/2/2008 9:34:17 PM
7/2/2008 10:28:35 PM
oh chembobhow i miss thee
7/2/2008 10:29:00 PM
i'll be back in august, betty dear.
7/2/2008 10:29:46 PM
Fuck you, dude. Gould's interpretation of the Goldberg's is arguably one of the finest in recorded history.
7/2/2008 10:30:19 PM
Che?I wasn't saying his interpretation was shitty. This is just a thread for random/weird shit.
7/2/2008 10:35:20 PM
The shorter version is on my ipod.FYI it appeared in The English Patient and Silence of the Lambs.I've been meaning to see 22 Short Films About Glenn Gould for some time now.
7/2/2008 10:36:48 PM
7/2/2008 10:38:37 PM
Hi bob, glad to see you back
7/2/2008 10:44:38 PM
Ok, sorry. I do realize I spoke in haste. But I <3 Glenn Gould
7/2/2008 10:45:51 PM
It's...
7/4/2008 11:04:31 PM
ttt
7/5/2008 2:23:54 AM
The sun was sinking in the west,And fell with lingering ray,Thru the branches of the forest,Where a wounded ranger lay.'Neath the shade of a palmetoAnd the sunset silvery sky;Far away from his home in Texas,They laid him down to die.A group had gathered 'round him,His comrades in the fight.A tear rolled down each manly cheekAs he bade a last good night.One tried and true companionwas kneeling by his sideTo stop his life blood flowing,Alas, in vain he tried."Draw closer to me, comrades,and listen to what I say.I'm going to tell a storyWhile my spirit hastens away.'Way back in Northwest Texas,That good old Lone Star state,There is one that for my comingwith a weary heart will wait."A fair young girl, my sister,My only joy, my pride,She was my friend from boyhood,I had no one left beside.I have loved her as a brother,And with a fathers careI have strove from grief and sorrowHer gentle heart to spare."It is true I love my country,For her I gave my all.If it hadn't been for my sister,I would be content to fall.I am dying, comrades, dying,She will never see me more,But in vain she'll wait my comingBy our little cabin door.Comrades, gather closerAnd hear my dying prayer.Who'll be to her a brother,Shield her with a brother's care?"Up spoke the noble rangers,They answered one and all,"We will be to her as brothersTill the last one does fall."One glad smile of pleasureO'er the rangers face was spread;One dark, convulsive shadow,And then the ranger was dead.Far from his darling sisterWe laid him down to rest,With his saddle for a pillowAnd his gun across his breast.
8/21/2008 9:47:15 AM
8/21/2008 10:35:23 AM
embedded sounds on autoplay should be a bannable offense. Fucking things lock up my browser every time. They are also incredibly annoying otherwise.
8/21/2008 10:44:58 AM
there is nothin in the thread that is autoplay... or are you just speaking in general.
8/21/2008 10:46:25 AM
maybe you have it blocked via adblock ( I do now), but it is chembobs post on 7/4
8/21/2008 10:48:14 AM
aww, sorry. I just like sharing 110 year old recordings.
8/21/2008 12:49:06 PM
http://www.wncw.org/ListenLive.htmlGoin' Across the Mountain.
8/23/2008 4:23:26 PM
http://www.folkstreams.net/video/land_where_blues/land_of_blues.mov
8/28/2008 5:51:52 PM
http://www.archive.org/details/Dyingsoldier
9/10/2008 7:23:41 PM
9/10/2008 7:45:20 PM
http://appalachianhistory.blogspot.com/2008/08/squirrel-hunting-season-gets-under-way.html“My grandfather, 'Pop' Ross Anderson,” writes John Lee Anderson, “was an expert squirrel hunter and a great storyteller. When I was in high school, we were eagerly awaiting the beginning of hunting season. The evening before the season opening, I was visiting Pop to get any advice and hopefully some of his hunting secrets.“Just a few years prior, Pop went squirrel hunting in the mountains behind Elkhorn City. He decided to go over into Eel Flats to an area that he was familiar with and knew that was sure to be loaded with squirrels. He had no more picked out a good spot among some large hickory trees that it began raining. The rain was so hard Pop knew he had to find shelter.“There was a huge old oak tree that had a hollow crack in it. The tree was large enough that Pop could squeeze into the hollow of the tree. When the rain stopped, Pop decided to squeeze out of the crack in the tree to resume hunting. However, due to the rain, sweating and high humidity, he, with the wet clothing, had swollen and was unable to squeeze out of the tree.“He tried to remain calm, but knowing the probability that no one would be able to find him or assist him, he became more anguished. He said his whole life flashed before his eyes. He remembered all of the wonderful times he had had with his great family. He remembered how thankful he was to have such a wonderful wife. He remembered all of the friends he had. He remembered all of his accomplishments and the rewards of his early days as a teacher.“Then, he said, he remembered that he had voted Republican one time and he felt so small he slid right out of that tree.”
9/10/2008 7:48:23 PM
A cigarette that bears a lipstick's tracesAn airline ticket to romantic placesAnd still my heart has wingsThese foolish things remind me of youA tinkling piano in the next apartmentThose stumblin' words that told you what my heart meantA fairground's painted swingsThese foolish things remind me of youYou came, you saw, you conquered meWhen you did that to meI knew somehow this had to beThe winds of March that make my heart a dancerA telephone that rings but who's to answer?Oh, how the ghost of you clingsThese foolish things remind me of youHow strange, how sweet, to find you stillThese things are dear to meThey seem to bring you near to meThe sigh of midnight trains in empty stationsSilk stockings thrown aside, dance invitationsOh, how the ghost of you clingsThese foolish things remind me of you
9/10/2008 10:02:36 PM
9/13/2008 5:37:14 PM
9/27/2008 3:11:46 PM