Date:    Sun, 10 May 1998 20:06:02 -0700
From:    Martin Acaster 
Subject: Ghost Story #25 12/5/97 The Ghost of Philip Taylor Kramer

Happy Day to All you Muthas

this ghost story has been a looooooooong time in coming....the post
office in question was not completely bad as my tapes finally did
arrive...thanks to Jason frankhouser...after listening to the Ghost I
knew why it took so long to deliver the tapes.....they were so DAMN
HEAVY...ponderous...dense....not light...these tapes have GRAVITY
with that in mind

Ghost Story #25 12/5/97 Set 1 Cleveland State
The Ghost of Philip Taylor Kramer

>From the start this Ghost is dense, ponderous weighted down with a big
ASSED bass line...an Iron Butterfly of a bassline...all the
gravitational pull of a neutron star...the prologue is a typical snap
funk rump from Mike Geeeee all over a whining rapper's delight
honkymuthafunk...lyrically flawless as is typical...the verse break a
somewhat superstitious duel between mike geeeee and mc neoncellgap
alternately technofunky and mellow groove...but heavy bottom...big
bottom...the ghosts are shrieked and punctuated by some Herr Necklace
screaming Waaaah...the Ghost story itself begins as is typical around
the 3:00 minute mark...it is ponderous...heavy...dense...it has a
gravitational field...drawing Mr. Kramer closer and closer to his
destiny...driving up and down and up and down a California freeway...his
mind racing with the implications of his gravitational field
experiments......the olaphian mothership swoops down on to the narrow
stretch of highway absorbing the car...the cosmic taxi has arrived...the
crew of the ship is amused by the scratching sound heard over the throb
of the gravity drive...the sound of Mr. Kramer trying to get out of the
car..from inside the car he hears the heavy footsteps approaching....he
is quickly immobilized and pulled from the car...they aren't going to
hurt him after all...a mellow groove comes over him...he drifts along
down the hallway with his new friends...they arrive in a brightly lit
room coated floor to ceiling with big fluffy pillows...he is escorted to
the bar in the corner...they are serving his favorite tonight...he can
smell the bathtub gin oozing its vapors through the cask hanging from
the wall....he sips....the boogie man is feeling fine now...a mellow
shuffle boogie...that builds and swells and throbs....he is swimming
watery mellotronic love vibes fill his head...now spinning with the
gin...the music flows from the watery mellow groove into a distorted
technoPUNK vibration that turns his brain to jelly...makes him feel all
Crosseyed...feeling no pain....the ship is racing across the
universe...soaring....the gravity drive winds into a gyroscopic ring my
bell that rapidly dissolves into dissonance...the dissonance falls apart
just as quickly to a cheer from the earthlings far below...must have
been the lights...the lights....more dissonance....becoming
chaotic....angry....turbulent....a gamma ray burst of unheard of
proportions flashing across the universe from 12 billion light years
away....falling into a technophonic wall of sound...revolving moaning
squealing...a groove no groove chaos....finally the smoke clears...the
sound of twinkling stars through the sun roof in the car....staring up
into the heavens...parked on the side of the road....at the 16:03
mark...he hears footsteps....the call of a name...his name...no...some
guy named Wilson...

who you gonna call

Marty