Tag Archives: Ramble

Rainy Mystery Alley / spoken-word song video

Analog loops, guitars, feedback and poetry about impossible alleys, 8 seat bars, villages with book shops, woolen scarves, Fado, Enka, Kathmandu mud, and umbrellas thwarting tactility.

Video features snaps of Thorvald and Thurston in a Provo basement, 2018 making the song as well as artifacts in the environs.

Rainy Mystery Alley (spoken-word song) – video

Analog loops, guitars, feedback and poetry about impossible alleys, 8 seat bars, villages with book shops, woolen scarves, Fado, Kathmandu mud, and umbrellas thwarting tactility.

Made by “Thorvald and Thurston” in a Provo basement, 2018

Rainy Mystery Alley (with Marty)

Analog loops, guitars, feedback and poetry about impossible alleys, 8 seat bars, villages with book shops, woolen scarves, Fado, Kathmandu mud, and umbrellas thwarting tactility.

Made by “Thorvald and Thurston” in a Provo basement, 2018

Read along: Rainy Mystery Alley poem

Available via: 

Waiting in Katakolon: Continuing Rambles of one Mr. Thor Aronson

Thor Aronson 2 - Greek Fisherman
Thor Aronson – Waiting in Katakolon

++ Continuing Rambles of one Mr. Thor Aronson ++
His quest for the elusive quarry stalled again, Thor – rather exhausted after six days on a merchant marine ship despite a rather pleasant stateroom – sits on a coil of worn rope on a salty dock to consider his next move. The question: where has the renegade Mr. Lester disappeared to to this time? Lighting at the second last cigar from a box acquired in Sicily, he considers possible directions… Set out towards the Tyrhenian, dropping in on various islands seeking telltale sign? He does have ties to Corsica after all so the direction would be generally useful. Or maybe the Aegean?

“Too many damn islands…” He mutters to the Katakolon seabirds. The leather attache (containing the critical documents seeking validation) still close by his worn boots, he pulls the boiled wool fisherman’s cap down his brow, closer to the wrinkled blue/white striped coarse linen shirt, inhales deeply and concludes to head towards the Bosphorous.

At least he’ll have a hot Turkish bath and beat-down massage on ancient marble before deciding which continent to drift towards next. But first, a tall ouzo and plate of olives to set him on the way.