Articles I-III: A World of Selfish Limbs

*Performance by Selfish Limbs

Video designs by Muppie Article by Sutter Greaves*

ARTICLE I

In the days of knowledge and experience, of the musical facets constituting even the purest forms of auditory activity, we know the scale of nature never exhausts. When musical and habitual styles have served until their end, it’s wholly refined with a new form of rhythm; but always homogeneous to its counterpart. Any ‘new’ style couldn’t have existed without its faults, thus preceding the repeated ‘happening’ of this sequence. The musical acrobatics showcased, from Selfish Limbs, is a new development within electronic music, happening among other movements. Selfish Limbs drives the characteristics of a decrepit nature, and Muppie’s visual designs are singing distorted worlds, illuminating the crevices of interpretation. Music is a language, revolving the celestial organs’ sphere of balance.

The harmony of objects conforms to the sensibilities practiced by the artist. Unique sounds conjoin into symmetry, a geometry of the consequence in bright sounding channels, the expressions trekking through sensibility. The veins of experimentation pulse with the affairs residing in Selfish Limb’s experiences, exponentiating the material laws of inner nature into a function of mental firmness and poise. Selfish Limbs pulses with a glorious power against the backdrop of color and motion; every globe in the mind’s constellation connects in rhythm, the polarity of new, creative avenues. The interplay of intellect, and musical wisdom, drives the spirit of sounds into a refined harmony. Selfish Limbs fuels an extraordinary appetite for curiosity, sparking the passion for modified methods in creating.

Everything is a constant push and pull, derived from its corpus of oblivious matter. Selfish Limbs whips the skins and tones into a hypnotic opulence, flowing crystallized. The world reflects the bonds of rhythm, equivocating its causation to the capabilities effectuated, drowned in the tunnel of spiral sight, where the drudgery of diurnal days is a war in the mind, where the fire ablaze in the murky world of confusion.

Samplers are used, operated by his left arm, manipulating beats with the other. Images flash against a backdrop of this mark; the sampled vocals heed to the drudging systems. Sonic blankets swirl our ears, gearing for our rhythmic trek into the fine-tuning of infinity.

While, then, the artist animates nature into a current of frequencies streaming thought, and attaining a rare gift operating both offices of philosophical and poetic harmony — of Truth and Beauty, melded for a simple practice aiming for the causes of both balances.

Simplicity is a crucial factor. The rhythms dance and trickle through compounded measurements, and drum-fills; which the elements composing are repetitious but repeated to incite.

Removing conventionality, and supplying the human economy with a rebellious attitude, offers a passage through the vexing labyrinth of emotion — Cerberus guarding the threshold of avowed secrets or the roaming unconscious with Caligula’s voice and ruling power.

We shall comb the musical landscapes, and our own, with new eyes. To not just concentrate the only points that attempt servicing fresh perspectives, or the ‘next big thing,’ as in the end, every thought-structure is a form of Anti-music, as it relates solely to the individual. As creatures who have been able to harness harmony and rhythm, it’s amazing to appreciate the sphere we live in — the sphere of music.

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ARTICLE 2

Beauty is a conceptual language — boundless under an infinite bond of perception and awareness, while its sense relates to everything. Beauty doesn’t fish in the clouds for excellent, pastoral illustrations that wisp away cogitative observations into a blue dream; nor practices that exhume a deeper you, but that its simplicity remains beholden to action, not merely speculation. The dance with the inner and outer spheres of the self, the avalanche of imagination and emotion stir creative arrangements, balancing the subject’s objective goal. It represents mental compartments eminent in the traits that bard human transformation. We are cause and effect from numerous forms, located within the same harmony, in chaos, and restless epochs, the seeds of division sprout lips, from colonies blooming to kiss the universal sky — in the company of imagination which music perseveres. There are few types of ‘anti-music’ as formless as the waters themselves, but consequently, exempt controlled setting; its style is a plurality of procedures to elicit the unconscious body. Inducing the flexible triad of influence, interpretation, and interaction — integration concatenates with the infinite, mortal ocean. This form is exemplary that music doesn’t heed to an algorithmic organization but is finite in variation, and as many qualitative patterns Selfish Limbs masterfully crafts. This is congruent with the expressive modes within our souls, relating a caricature of peace, calming, or any other tranquil states, that once reflected in the listener’s imagination, blooms a unified whole. However, only on a strand of relativity shadowed into the genre’s home or the sounds influx from various energy streams. The listener can then feel stripped of persona, with belongings shifted to motion complimenting earth’s spheres and limbs: a body encased being creativity. Musical styles are projected and atomized into a condensed emotional matter state, a cosmos influx in its sphere. Experience is the tones, enriched with each need to illustrate resonance into a construction exemplary of progressive minds. Let it be the pulse of that rhythm and follow our conscious light. Music is a constant stage of ‘new development,’ fixed on progressive forms maintained within the same genre but locating synonymous additions, as soil growing from inception. This can state the architecture of sounds with their genus organisms. For experimentation to have a function, being solely to expand one’s mind, an opposite-end must be in effect and treated carefully. Critique, in this junction, mustn’t locate the material of sound, rather its sensuous nature.

Drum’s gorge upon string theory, where vibrations ricochet vital properties heeding emotional overtones and expressive outputs, animating tonal passages indicating the musical character. Character isn’t embellished, nor a material concentrated by an instrument but grown from its introductory tapestry. Composition is a space from spaces. Selfish Limbs composes angles infinite in dialect and geometry. Interactions confer within each heart, hands that plant verdure, where the senses ablaze into a new fiery image in connection. Then, arrangements are the economy of these offices of thought. Its system orchestrates the horizon of this logo, rising from mechanical spurs of equipment and hardware, enriched with the artist’s voice. The composer must aim for the scrupulous delights woven in the faculties of complexity and higher voices springing lustrous pieces for exercise of the mind and body. Of course, beauty isn’t singular under this regiment, but our senses are a forest, blooming flights, in variation and pattern. An arbitrary line of program and satisfaction disobey, which these parameters, are partly due to experience. Music isn’t an already humbled medium of our orbital, expressive fields. Any low power of humility will drive progression away, subtly. The audience is an interplay of art and formation, taken from each other, forming its whole; and the force which binds; the reason yearning formation. We’re an audience to the thoughts and sensations interpreted from the symphony of universal law; as well as artists to the compositions of the internal spark, when aware of the fact arrange ideas and sounds as symbols, influencing then the composition of our character, transporting the vessel of transmuting, infinite orchestration. We rejoice into the triad composition, a first kind of ‘there and back again.’ This verse repeats until our music within us sends its grand finale into passing days. Audience is the membrane of this immaterial sphere, where we’re the singing toads and birds which are weightless fish and amorphous creations forged in the experimental valley — in the tides of season and the symphony, Spirit.

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ARTICLE 3

Form in music can be a contrived void, focused only upon particulars and specifics, leaving the parameters of expression few and far between. Concentrating on grasping a particular attitude subtracts the sequence of expansion, as the artist will fall to his/her vitality. However, in this performance, the outputs of congealed thought run along the banks of rhythmic waters, allowing the currents of thought-form and creativity to merge. Relaxed styles are an interchangeable way to replenish. In this glowing kingdom, Selfish Limbs allows the background layers to stir the drums sunlight into rays blooming new strength. We open shutters to gardens enriched. Currents of energy move freely to drumbeats tempered, progressing, a cacophony of elements. The life that strums is unstable and offers borderless displays in experimental verses. Writhing an expanse mirroring old technique, refined in its definition, features a universe surfacing lustrous rays blooming new structures. Atmospheres collide and tumult from improvised styles — where the drums maintain organization among an assortment of qualitative sounds. The listener’s imagination is the only form, grounded. Imagination itself runs as a self-liberating cycle; where wisdom is instrumental, the spaces between sage and artificer bind the geometric, metaphysical handiwork — delicately reflecting the artist’s inner world; where the listener may richly discern Selfish Limbs’ subtle remarks of acrobatic speech, and the drums organic fluttering’s of dynamics. The music is a celestial creation consisting of fire and air. The veritable equipment warms the cold, chaotic waters, transmuting into a sublime attribute of the cosmic mental spaces. Simultaneously, the music explores variations, passing along the energetic passageways of drum fills — expounding adventures admitting the absolute of creative power. The cleanly affected styles exhume contemplation. Our cosmic transmogrification embellishes the noisy constructions of spirit. This session comprises the unseen illustrations of percussions twisting in tuneful discernible studies of the musical sky’s cylinders. Sounds brew in the foliage of paradise, where new worlds develop. The dialogue composed is the body of immaterial, the reflection by which harmonic universes of creativity, and listener, pulse as a single heartbeat. The great, enigmatic light show of sound and thought billow in between craftsmanship and experience, consequentially evolving through a series of degrees, as a pendulum swings through the unconscious gems of our mortality. Sense, in music, doesn’t illustrate into complexity, to force simplification of being, but by which the silhouettes of individualistic expression emerges, as One, as The Whole.

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