Ulver - Lost in Moments
"In the 1830s, the Panopticon became the architectural programme of most prison projects. It was the most direct way of expressing ‘the intelligence of discipline in stone’ (Lucas, I, 69); of making architecture transparent to the administration of power; of making it possible to substitute for force or other violent constraints the gentle efficiency of total surveillance"
— Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, pg. 249
"Each time he took a walk, he felt as though he were leaving himself behind, and by giving himself up to the movement of the streets, by reducing himself to a seeing eye, he was able to escape the obligation to think, and this, more than anything else, brought him a measure of peace, a salutary emptiness within. The world was outside of him, around him, before him, and the speed with which it kept changing made it impossible for him to dwell on any one thing for very long. Motion was of the essence, the act of putting one foot in front of the other and allowing himself to follow the drift of his own body. By wandering aimlessly, all places became equal, and it no longer mattered where he was. On his best walks, he was able to feel that he was nowhere. And this, finally, was all he ever asked of things: to be nowhere."
— Paul Auster, City of Glass, pg. 9
"It is compact, but takes its sweet time. Never rushed, yet always rushing towards its next rhetorical anguish. It has a cumulative momentum and is very much of a piece… It is ancient text, but it is forever downloading its own updates. Synthesisers. Post-production. Multiplicity of voices.”
— ILX user “country matters” on Blood Inside, May 26, 2009
“Lines 704-707: A system, etc.
The fitting-in of the threefold ‘cells interlinked’ is most skillfully managed, and one derives logical satisfaction from the ‘system’ and ‘stem’ interplay.”
— Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire, pg. 253
"What could have been merely a sarcastic air-kiss to a dying genre takes on a more tentative, ambiguous and risky valence, and sets in motion the agenda for the entire album to come: an esoteric populism that deliberately blows hot and cold; a series of vampiric simulations that both betray and extend the musical traditions they feed upon."
— Drew Daniel, 33 1/3: 20 Jazz Funk Greats, pg. 50
“The first few listens are a confusing and admittedly unpleasant experience. Numerous online reviews awkwardly trumpet Blood Inside as Ulver reborn in Doom Metal’s oblong box, or as apparent heir to so much shit left uncovered by Goth’s trophy outfit, Skinny Puppy; this is emphatically not the case. With Blood Inside, Ulver manage to create a record that simultaneously embraces the jejune and unmediated qualities of N’Sync and the Backstreet Boys with a hilariously unformed idea of what Before and After Science era Eno was/is all about.”
— Stuart Voegtlin, on Blood Inside in Stylus Magazine, June 21, 2005
"As I fell asleep I heard music. I didn’t have a radio, but it wasn’t the type of music played over the radio anyway. It was wild, cacophonous, and there was an off-beat of drums pounding. My laugh was harsh, rasping. I continued to laugh and the salty taste in my mouth came from the unchecked tears running down my cheeks."
— Charles Willeford, Pick-Up, pg. 98
"Chrome tail pipes leaking irreducible mist."
— Brad Nelson, on Perdition City: Music for an Interior Film, March 3, 2011
"The whole scene quivered vague and mysterious in the green light, then the door closed and the sound muted down.
It was too much for me. I removed my glasses and tucked the white hat carefully beneath my arm and walked away. Can it be, I thought, can it actually be? And I knew that it was. I had heard of it before but I’d never come so close. Still, could he be all of them: Rine the runner and Rine the gambler and Rine the briber and Rine the lover and Rinehart the Reverend? Could he himself be both rind and heart? What is real anyway? But how could I doubt it? He was a broad man, a man of parts who got around. Rinehart the rounder. It was true as I was true. His world was possibility and he knew it. He was years ahead of me and I was a fool. I must have been crazy and blind. The world in which we lived was without boundaries. A vast seething, hot world of fluidity, and Rine the rascal was at home.”
— Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man, pg. 498
"There are some enterprises in which a careful disorderliness is the true method."
— Herman Melville, Moby-Dick or, The Whale, pg. 395