Submerged Turntable by Evan Holm [VIDEO]


Acrylic and sprinkles on canvas
14” x 18”

(via gruesometwosome)



Thomas Edison, born on this day in 1847, napping after a long experiment. Power-napping was one of Edison’s secrets to success.

Naps are great and you should take one. Fact!

Gonna go tear off a nap right now.


Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics: Fancy a beer from Canada House? You’ll need a Canadian passport to open the fridge

"The Canadian Olympic Committee have placed a fridge stocked with beer in their Olympic House.

Quite a good thing in itself, I guess, but even better when I tell you that it can only be unlocked by a Canadian passport.”

  • Proof that Canada is winning at more than just sports in Sochi.

(via propertyofcanada)


My bloody valentine pedal set


My bloody valentine pedal set

(via kaijutears)


Vice President Joe Biden, at the controls of one of Amtrak’s new electric locomotives in Philadelphia.


In the 1990’s my future wife was a record store clerk in Portland, Oregon. American guitar legend John Fahey was living in a nearby town and would visit the shop. Here are two mix cassettes that he made for her during that time.

One year on from their debut, Rainer Veil explore deep, brittle rave variants on their 2nd EP for Modern Love. The five tracks of ‘New Brutalism’ are a product of their Northern environment, making pointed reference to the kind of deep-rooted rave heritage documented in Mark Leckey’s ‘Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore’ soundtrack through a prism of angular, vulnerable club music. Conceptually, It adopts a similar perspective on British nightlife to Burial or Lee Gamble, surveying the ‘floor as if during an out-of-body experience or through closed eyes from a corner of the club at 5am. Opening track, ‘UK Will Not Survive’ captures that sensation beautifully with its tape-saturated layers of wistful vocal, woody 2-step and daubs of Reese bass, whilst ‘Three Day Jag’ isolates that curious blend of hedonism and introspection innate to early UK ‘ardcore, albeit without the narco-sweats. Closing number ‘Run Out’ doffs a cap to grey building sites and strobe-lit clubs alike, channelling diffuse field recordings and half-heard breakbeats with a bleary-eyed, tired and emotional quality.