Review of brother Joseph's Sonic Treasures New Years mix.
Words by Adam Turner:

C-pij 01: Day & Night

On New Year's Day Brother Joseph's Sonic Treasures radio show featured two special long form pieces from Nina Walsh's Facility 4 (the recording home of Woodleigh Research Facility, the musical vehicle of her and Andrew Weatherall in recent years). These two pieces were lined up to be played on Weatherall's Music's Not For Everyone but in February tragedy intervened, took Andrew away and the monthly radio with him. The first piece, C-Pij01 Facility 4 Day, is an hour of wonderful ambient wash, a combination of harmonium, synth, flute, cello, guitar, viola and trumpet and some voices (played by Nina, Franck Alba, Anita Hurst, Chris Cornetto and Marcos Alegria- this line up includes the players on Andrew Weatherall's Convenanza album as well as the W.R.F. records and I don't know for sure but I wouldn't be surprised if the Fort Beulah N.U. project is to be found within it's ranks too).

The second part, Night, is two and a half hours long, introduced by Brother Joseph and then fading into distortion and noise, echoes and bangs before a song starts to take shape, guitar chords. Then back to ambient sound, FX and washes, drones and voices coming through the mist and the wandering trumpet floating on top. After an hour and ten minutes it dissolves, Brother Joseph returns and then the guitar/ bass/ drums kick back in, an 80s post- punk bassline with a lovely synth topline... and then there's more, twists and turns, musical sections mixed together, one segueing into another. Magical.


The Next venture.
By Joseph Curry:

The unknown is always easily explained as the unknown and why ?

Well the answers are above our heads, the stars , the outer cosmos…is it there ?….where our inner souls journey take us to In a comatose state ? Cosmos and comatose are both the journey of this treasure….hold in there tho….you see treasure was already found..in the deep conscious of the unexplained..it came to me her and him and it had to be delivered…there was no map…we were the creation of the co ordinations..I had brewed a tidy cuppa..and after last months expedition I untied my laces and put my feet up on the old battered pine table..that sported historical hot mug rings..…..I dipped my final chocolate biscuit then drifted into a deep sleep…

Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppppppdeeeeeeeeeeppppp..As I drifted deeper and deeper…my Ka unlocked itself from my inner conscious and decided to wander….

Then…I emerged North from the foggy dew..…I could see two figures …one from the south and the other slightly westerly…..us all ready to collide in beauty…from the west he delivered nothing but a pen…an artists pen….….from the south she carried the treasure….I was to witness from the north west..the place that is best

We met..or journey was to deliver….

You know that like in one of those films where there is a heat wave , in a panoramic view from the ground…our figures gave the impression of flag fluttering in a gentle breeze..…we stood at the crossroads and suddenly the temperature dropped….our breath created a mist…but we were safe…we never spoke …the only warmth we felt was king tubby in our heads….then..headlights on full beam….this old blue Cadillac appeared like a piece of tumbleweed from a western film..

We looked at each other …the door never opened …we were in….squeezed in the back ..shoulder to shoulder we sat, me her and him……her still holding the treasure…as if by instinct he was in our heads……he knew the destination….we sat in silence…..even if we wanted to speak out ..we couldn’t…we were muted but connected all at once…I swear on first sight he was wearing a suit of musical notes….he drove ….I could see his his cowboy boots hitting the pedal….but there was no reflection of eyes in the mirror…only a beautiful scorpion tattooed on a chest visible from an unlocked shirt…and the outstretched tattooed arm fist clenched on the wheel…fail we may …sail we must was visible from the rolled up sleeves…our escort…felt like the trinity of some gnostic spirit..a gallic scent mixture of cigar smoke and Chanel enveloped our nostrils…he definitely was a trinity of characters..the father the son and the Holy Ghost ..it felt safe..…we were safe..….and as we gazed out the window we could see a mountain……that’s all we could see from the rolling mist..eyes were peering over it from the side…like a guidance..I swear there was no landscape only our minds united to the old radio…a hand tuned AM radio..it was distant..now im so happy no sorrow in sight …praise the lord …it cackled and echoed repeatedly..…..…the time read 11.11……we sat looking west..bumping along the lost highway on the beige leather seats..…it was the first day of a new year……it felt like 1953..the end times was visible….The good lord was willing….we knew where we wanted off…and as if it was like a blink, a flash and a cymbal crash.. we stood again …and in the distance the lioness roared…the blood of those from the dark side dripping from her feast…….the starry plough twinkled gently in the night sky…it was an omen….we stood gazing to the plough…those same stars that had shone down upon us and all before….they were our ideals….although we may never reach them…somehow we could map our course by them……we knew the timing had to be perfect…like an alignment …shall we lay it down here she said…and as we rubbed the ground with our feet from side to side….we created the big cross..the X where the spot was to be marked….some men fight for silver and some men fight for gold…our job was to deliver the treasure for others to behold…

I awoke from my sleep…my Ka had returned…my foot outstretched and rubbing the carpet from side to side…hank was playing on the radio…

He had a train to catch and it was on time…..he checked the station clock that many a soul had stood under…He saw Hank Andrew and Erik emerge equally from the north south and west.. they laughed and embraced below it..and he smiled lovingly…..and embarked the carriage to home ..…….

She threw a stick southernly into the distance for her trusted companion Binky……then looked up to the quarry… gave a sigh ….then gently laughed..and checked her watch…….

Trudi and Graham came back from their early morning treasure hunt…..they loaded the system…set the timings of broadcast and flicked on the kettle…

Job Done……

It was 1.11

Written words by Joseph Curry