He shouts my name as if he were standing across a river, each syllable lobbed up and over, landing uncertainly with a vague emotional frequency, like a long distance phone call, where enunciation counts for more than intonation. This emphasis also implies that I’m in a daydream, as if the distance between us was not only geographical.
On hearing my name is a short essay commissioned for the third volume of Dancehall. Psykick Dancehall began as a label documenting the fringes of the European underground and has subsequently become a banner under which questions about sound and performance are raised. Dancehall is a journal that provides space to present experiences of sound or music in ways that draw out their possibilities in different contexts.
For further information on Dancehall please visit www.psykickdancehallrecordings.com
How to recognise a Widow, Horse in a mirror, Private cup