the banging of doors

I've been writing and responding a lot since I saw / experienced the new David Lynch film "Inland Empire". When I say 'film', perhaps I mean 'shock to the system'. When I say 'system', well, perhaps I mean 'system that breaks down'. I am in love with Lynch. It was an even more intense love to hear his sound compositions in this new work. The film, made entirely on high definition video, is therefore not a film, a kind of grainy nightmare (when has one ever been clear?). Broken mirrors and cut skin. His sounds penetrate the skin, rattle the bones. Like a stab from screw-driver and that's giving nothing away but gives you some idea. As a musician who is also a sound artist who is also a filmmaker who makes sound for film, well Lynch, you've done it again. He seems to enter my life at all the right times. In the way that Mullholland Drive defined a certain period of my practice and made me feel like it was worth it. In the way, strangely still, that Twin Peaks meant that TV was not dead after all (Buffy, Unit One, Jaaam - actually all Chris Morris, Nighty Night and Veronica Mars have come to the rescue since). Chris Morris too, with his intense audio assaults and sedative loops. Lynch lulls you there too, in Inland Empire. Noone uses sub frequencies to such disturbing and unpredictable effect like Lynch. He knows the effect image and sound coalition can have. It's not about emotion but about a pure visceral experience. He won't let this be an easy experience for anyone. He reminds us that the world rumbles with discontent and that earth is spinning out of control. He reminds us that our heads are full of noise and un/sub-conscious horror scenes. Last night I 'dreamt' that somebody loved me. Last night I 'dreamt' that a gun was being aimed at me but I couldn't move. This morning I woke up with a start.