A 60-minute selection of compositions improvised and performed live on a Moog Model- D, through a recent post-pandemic shift back to my home in Ladakh since June this year.
Retracing old steps and retrieving lost images from a non-existent memory hole.
These compositions stand requiem harkening back to images from another old tragedy. A foster home in my vicinity that incinerated to the ground on a quiet night sometime around the Winters of ‘96-97.
It was established later that the fiasco was initiated by a single wax candle which was left unextinguished.
The deceit of Autumn is over.
Bleeding yellows bring pale skeletons.
Waters freeze the toes and teeth.
The candle flame swallows the wood.
Soot mold on the dairy creek
Smoke, withdrawals, and rats.
Wax and wane of my mind.
Tracklist:
Give us this day, our daily bread
Hafiz reads by the candle
Namgang
Soot and ice on every slope
The expedition of 1870
The red blinker at Stok / pandemic flight
Painter Man
Staring at a hotel at Zangsti
Tag: Ruhail Qaisar
“60-minute selection of compositions improvised and performed live on a Moog Model- D, through a recent post-pandemic shift back to my home in Ladakh since June this year.
Retracing old steps and retrieving lost images from a non-existent memory hole.
These compositions breed from the pure and slow hostility of the silent rinse of each season in the cold-desert environments of Ladakh, Tibet, Kashgar, and Kyrgyzstan.
The moon howls back at the hounds tonight.
And the cold is seeping into the vast.
Konghur Tagh sleeps.”
Tracklist:
…And with God, their organs
Illtutmish
Interlude 葱岭
Yangon
Interlude ལ་དྭགས
Then she ate fire
A cold calling on a September evening
Karakoram
The Sword of King Gesar