ｐａｔｚｒ ｃａｃｈｅ ０００１９

Due to storage limitations over on @patzr-radio this is the nineteeth cache of non-downloadable archive blocks of old ｐａｔｚｒ ｒａｄｉｏ episodes. /// the second of the fourth of the ten hundredth episodes / & since i started planning this series of one hundredth episodes i figured i'd ought to get another Central Station recording to include / but, as i often do when i think i've got a cohesive plan / i record too much, over-identify, over-appreciate what i schlep back home with so the numbering is even more confusing that it was originally intended to be; making up for the lack of a zero, i guess. | the fifth of ten one hundredth episodes / sad at my inability to not be combative when in my cups / vexed by rss feed inconsistencies / obliged to head in to work | the sixth of ten one hundredth episodes / piano music quiet on the radio / to sleep Moomin-like / a collection of mugs around my computer | the seventh of ten one hundredth episodes / Rattlesnake Mountain inspired / stretched out chord organ / loose chords / phone pocket made bird recordings ! ! ! this installment of ｐａｔｚｒ ｒａｄｉｏ was produced by regular special guest ｐａｔｚｒ & generous supplier of train station field recordings Matt Nix ! ! ! | the eighth of ten one hundredth episodes / a fine, quiet drone / recorded in a now inaccessible officeblock, opened in my infancy by some goon from the first Thatcher administration / shouts to the Tyneside Sounds Society, the only reason i was there to record it in the first place | the ninth of ten one hundredth episodes / the spaces between ice and earth / motion-sensor flowers with vermilion bands / communications from near space / and nearer spaces / and algorithms, if they could speak ! ! ! this installment of ｐａｔｚｒ ｒａｄｉｏ was produced by regular special guest ｐａｔｚｒ & long time kipple friend @otolythe ! ! ! | the tenth of ten one hundredth episodes / foolishly, i dropped my phone in a sink the other day / it's spent the last two days in uncooked rice / even though i believe there's sense in this behaviour it still feels kind of crazed, kind of superstitious, kind of atavistic