HORSES is wordless music and sound by Robert Stillman. The spirit of 'Horses' music is somewhere between the fairground, the rural parlor, and the stars; while the shrewd listener may be able to pick out hints of Stillman's influences, (among whom he counts John Fahey, Kurt Weill, Scott Joplin, and Marice Ravel), his music exists on its own terms, a detailed musical territory unto itself.
Attendees of Stillman's live shows have come to expect the unexpected; a 'Horses' performance can mean a one-man-band, tape-based sound collage, live accompaniment of silent archive footage, or a full ensemble event.
Robert Stillman's 'Horses,' released in 2005 on Mill Pond Records, documented the first round of Horses material with a darkly produced acoustic studio recording. The release received critical acclaim for its patient, transportive qualities, and created confusion for people about genre.
Recent Horses recordings combine the epic scope of radio-days orchestral glamour with unorthodox mis-use of recording equipment. They feature piano rags of rage, unravelling marching-band rhythms, abandoned skating-rink organ, and cymbal crashes like the man in the bar's first shocking realization of his own drunkenness.
just a lil reminder about the upcoming Ponies in the Surf CD release show at PA's Lounge this Saturday, June 28th. We really like the new record (double CD!) and hope you can make it to the show.
I love everything about the Early Maine recordings. Sometimes when I listen to something that I really feel like I understand I get very sad. It's a good thing and that's where I am with these records right now. Thank you.
Great show last night Bobby, paticuarly enjoyed the one after BBQ Dave, had a really cool riff. Also the last song you did. have you got any cd's? lets catch up soon.
monday afternoon here, listening to your fishing song. monday is for moon day, karen read me a few mornings ago from a drenched & dried 2005 farmers almanac. moon day is what the old natives called it in another tongue & it takes a long time for us new natives to hear.
here the sun in the window steadies two bars of thread, & the robber's horses run from port land down to brook land on the wind.
