Hailing from Baltimore, MD, a bubbling pot that continues to churn out a rainbow fog swirl of new and exciting bands (Crazy Dreams Band, Lower Dens) as well as experimental music and new media festivals (Whartscape, Transmodern), Ami Dang seems to exude the creative energy that is pouring out of her hometown. Her upcoming full-length album (due out in December on Ehse Records), was crafted from an intersecting background of classical sitar and composition, experimental electronics and visual performance, combined with a deep love for ’90s dance beats and a fuzzy memory of megaphones blaring Indian pop songs into the streets of New Delhi.
If you’re in the area next week, catch Ami performing along with many other artists at Baltimore’s High Zero festival on September 23rd and 24th, 2010.
The above image is taken from R. Crumb’s awesome “The Religious Experience of Philip K. Dick” and you can get the whole shebang by clicking here.
So have you all seen the new issue of Orange Coast magazine yet? You know, “the magazine of Orange County”? Yeah, us neither. But thankfully LA Observed checked it out and hipped us to this decent article about Philip K. Dick’s final years of ducking the spotlight, having profound religious experiences and munching on Trader Joe’s grub down in the OC, basically living a life quite similar — minus the amphetamines he’d mostly left behind — to the goners of A Scanner Darkly. An excerpt:
Dick moved from Fullerton to downtown Santa Ana, where he rented a two-bedroom apartment that he later bought when the building went condo. As a bohemian hipster whose work depicted future people oppressed by life in their monstrously huge, regimented, soulless “conapt” complexes, Dick couldn’t escape the irony that he lived in a condo. In a 1980 Slash magazine interview, he denounced the condo association’s resident meetings as creepily intrusive.
In truth, Dick’s new residence was in some ways ideally suited to him. His building had an elaborate security system, which assuaged his latent paranoia. For the agoraphobic author, the apartment was within walking distance of the post office and a Trader Joe’s, where he could pick up roast beef sandwiches and frozen dinners.