Frank Corcoran

Get back quick behind that microphone ( or there´ll be virtual violence ! ) ! On a green light, go! Ours not to choose: a green-yellow scream is different – fill cheek, go for the all out, a molten red scream, bawling screech, howl, roar, low again, anything really to get us going. On a green, I´ll say it once, twice; no breath across the microphone…. When the time comes, come it will, inject real suffering. So let´s take ten again, please, How now, brown howl ! Column of air, erupts like a studio Stromboli. Take two again. Have a quick listen: short approach curve, apogee, centre crammed with vocal temperature Galileo´s Inquisition boyos ´d envy. Feral grunt, rut sounding, surgical knife´s clean amputatory. Different from David´s harp preludes. Cathedral of pain inside her screech, quartering horses getting good hay for breakfast ( pressed to death in 1587 ). Be not wanting, micro. Inflect her yell too. A dollop of transcendence. Green light.