Welcome to Wyrd Daze

Wyrd Daze Lvl.4 all PDF issues of the zine + Ephemeral Man mixes

Lvl.4 content on the blog

Ghosts & Goblins: Games, Dungeon Synth & Fantasy

Ghosts & Goblins on the blog

Disco Rd – a Discordian ezine

Disco Rd on the blog

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Wyrd Question Daze: David Salisbury

Hello, my name is David Salisbury and I make weird melodic ambient music and cinematic dronescapes under the name Camp Of Wolves. The name comes from a town I lived in in the interior of British Columbia some years ago which served as a base for working across a very wide, sparlsey populated region. One theory as to the origins of the town name was said to have come from early French-Canadian fur traders in the area who marked it on a map as Camp des Loups. The mysterious and sinister translation of the name really stuck with me and became the inspiration for the project along with the abundant wilderness and brutal landscapes that I found myself in. I have been lucky enough to work with some amazing labels since then including Hotham Sound, Soundtracking the Void, Waxing Crescent and Woodford Halse as well as having a forthcoming album with the Castles in Space sub-library a little later this year. Out right now (as of Feb.24!) is my album Planetar with Subexotic Records, soundtracking a long, lonely and harrowing journey into the darkest corners of the cosmos that is accompanied by a feature length video done by my good friend Mark Holden (Invisible Plan).


Where did you come from and where are you going? 

I was born and raised in a somewhat infamous -at least locally- working-class city/ suburb just outside of Vancouver, BC (which is part of the inspiration behind my album Hills Of Cedar on Hotham Sound). Increasingly as I get older I hope to make the leap to our own little hobby farm or property out somewhere in that vast wilderness.

What preoccupies your mind these days?  

Unfortunately work seems to eat up far too much of my mental energy lately.

Name a favourite taste, touch, sound, sight and smell. 

Taste – I’m a bit obsessed with a well made west-country style cider and those soft tannins that bite you a bit on the way down. I’ve been trying to make my own for years and picked up a few competitive medals along the way in doing so.

Touch – Dog fur. I have two, one with a plush silky coat and the other with a rough, frayed-rope-thats-been-years-at-sea like quality, they make for a great tactile contrast

Sound – Rain, rustling leaves and trees in the wind

Sight – My wife of course

Smell – Cedar, freshly cut or heated (burning/ cooked with/ saunas/ fences baking in the sun etc). It smells like home to me.

Describe one of your most vivid dreams or nightmares

My dreams tend to be very cinematic or take place in some odd version of my childhood home and neighborhood I grew up in, never really both, but often quite vivid. One that really stands out to me is of the former. I was some small creature in a lab type setting (perhaps mogwai-like?). I was there against my will and it was heavily guarded. One of the guards had placed his helmet on a table. I crawled into it and slowly inched out of the facility unbeknownst to the people around me. I emerged in a crowded train, not dissimilar to the skytrain that cuts it’s way through Vancouver, but it was surrounded by a futuristic mixture of dense city and almost tropical foliage that we passed through. There was a boy who greeted me and I knew him somehow. Our reunification was wrought with emotion before realizing that we urgently needed to escape. He picked me up and pushed his way through the crowded train. Sure enough we were being pursued. We moved through, car after car, as fast as we could always just out of reach of them. Finally we reached the last car and could go no further. We knew being captured was a fate worse than death. We opened a door and leap.   

Have you ever had an uncanny experience? 

When I was about 18 or so I was out driving around with a few girls I knew from school. One of them had brought her younger sister who had in turn brought a oujia board. Sometime after midnight, out of sheer boredom, we decided to stop at a local park called Green Timbers (which, again, inspired an album of the same name I released with Waxing Crescent). We sat on the grass near the small lake and began to “summon a spirit” to talk to. Soon enough we were engaging in some sort of back and forth with something that vaguely indicated he was 16 and had died at the hand of a knife in that very park, let’s say with the initials AK. The eeriness of everything was heightened when each person withdrew their hands to prove they were not controlling the planchette much like I think most people do in this situation. With things getting all a bit too much we decided to say “goodbye”. The planchette with our hands on it kept sliding to “No” as the fear quickly slid into hysterics and tears for some. We decided to just pack up the board and walk back, stopping at a bench before realizing that it had a plaque bolted to it that said: In Memory of A… K… – matching our “visitors” initials. At that point we bolted back to our car. We pulled out into the long dark road through the forested area and began the drive home, being the only car on the street. Not long after with the stereo turned completely off, strange droney bass sounds started eminating from the speakers and the interior light went on and off on its own. As we approached one of the homes of the girl’s the car finally shut off and we slowly rolled to a stop on the side of a road. At this point we were in an area with some traffic around and I was eventually able to wave down a passerby to try to jumpstart the car’s battery, which did not work. Young and being in the pre-internet days, we had no choice but to continue the rest of the way to her house on foot to wake up her dad for some roadside assistance. En route someone had the idea of burning the cardboard ouija board in a park and we did before stomping it out and moving on. Finally we made it and awoke an angry, confused dad who was in disbelief at the story he was hearing. He drove us back to the car, connected jumper cables and wouldn’t you know it, the car started on the first try. Now I’m not a believer in these things and I put this all mostly down to a series of cooincidences, electrical malfunctions and things like the ideomotor effect… BUT you have to admit it’s a pretty weird!

How does your sense of place affect the way you express yourself? 

As you might have guessed my sense of place is incredibly important in my creative process. I love the history of a place whether it’s of public record, familial or folkloric in nature… or any combination of these. The two are symbiotic and create the most wonderful atmosphere and world’s in which to tell real or imagined stories or even just soak up.

What has particularly touched or inspired you recently?

I was really inspired when I recently discovered Ernest Hood’s Neighborhoods and then Back to the Woodlands. So much beauty, playfulness, humour, atmosphere, its quite lovely and re-awoke an interest in field recordings for me. I don’t know if I will ever be able to capture a place and time like that musically but I certainly will try.

Tell us a good story, anecdote or joke

Hmm I’d love to tell a joke but I’m drawing a blank at the moment… I guess an entertaining story would be how I met my wife. Many years ago I was nearing my college graduation. I had planned a trip with two friends to fullfill a lifelong dream and backpack through the Amazon rainforest. When I get into something I tend to get a bit obsessive and this was no different. I started to take a deep dive on Brazilian music and decided to download some I had been extensively reading about from the peer-2-peer client Soulseek (not unlike Napster if you are unfamiliar with it). One Tropicalia collection particularly caught my interest and I randomly messaged the person. We struck up a conversation and over the intervening months the relationship blossomed. I soon found myself planning to visit her in Brazil before meeting up with my friends for our Amazonian excursion. Once there it felt like home as she showed me the sites, sounds and food of her culture and I got to know her. While visiting a swampy region in the interior together I managed to contract Dengue fever and became quickly incapacitated. Her family took me in and cared for me, I still have a distinct feverish memory of waking up to her grandma wiping my forehead with a wet cloth while I lay there in my underwear shivering, too sick to be embarrassed. Anyhow, I was nursed back to health and able to go on the trip with my friends in the end, with the whole experience acting as the catalyst to flying back and forth before she moved here and we got married 15+ years ago. I like to think of us as early adopters of internet dating haha.

Wyrd Question Daze: Kevin Downey

Hi, my name is Kevin and I release music under the name Giants of Discovery. I hail from the Wirral in the North West of England. I love a good concept/story on which to hang my music. For example, see my Victorian Cosmic horror album, Out of Time (released on Library of The Occult) and my Greek mythology album, Orpheus (released on Woodford Halse).

Sometimes the music comes first, with the concept gradually revealing itself to me. On other occasions I have an idea for a concept and then frame the music around that. I’m currently finishing off mixing a couple of albums for release later this year on 2 labels. I’m eternally grateful to the fantastic labels that support my musical endeavours by releasing them in to the wild and to the wonderful people for buying them!

I have an upcoming album being released soon on Subexotic. It’s called And It’s Goodnight From The Human Race. It’s a Space themed album and is part of a trilogy of similar themed albums to be released on the same day. The other albums are by Letters From Mouse and Camp Of Wolves, two artists I greatly admire. The official release date is the 24th February but you can pre-order the album now via this link

Here’s a few other links to access my music:





Where did you come from and where are you going? 

I’ve come from a place very much focused on the secular, atheistic way of thinking with a smattering of “there’s some weird shit that happens in this world that I can’t explain and fit into this pigeon-hole”. I’m now very much on a Fool’s journey (to use the language of the Tarot), embracing the esoteric and High Strangeness that is prevalent all around us, if you’re prepared to look for it and acknowledge its presence. I’ve found that the more you look for and acknowledge the synchronicities and unexplainable stuff that goes on all around you the weirder life gets.

What preoccupies your mind these days? 

I’m obsessed with High Strangeness and learning the Tarot at the moment and have acquired a mountain of books that I’m trying to work my way through. I’m also listening to a load of really interesting podcasts that have blown and expanded my mind over the last year or so, including Penny Royal, Weird Studies, Consensus Unreality and Vayse (big shout out to the boys Buckley and Hine who present that one).

Name a favourite taste, touch, sound, sight and smell

I’m a sucker for anything chocolate related, especially dark chocolate. My favourite sound is my wife laughing. I love seeing Archie, our Border Terrorist, running on the beach. Even though I stopped drinking it years ago I love the smell of a newly opened jar of coffee. Don’t think I have a favourite touch.

Describe one of your most vivid dreams or nightmares  

As a kid I used to live next to a church and I used to dream quite often that the vicar was secretly a vampire and he would get into our house and turn my mum and dad into vampires. I would escape out of the house from them all and run down the street trying to take off and fly away, like Superman. I would always get just a few feet off the ground before I floated back down until I was only a few inches off the ground, all the while the undead would be getting closer and closer. That’ll teach me for also having a love of Hammer films as a kid as well!

Have you ever had an uncanny experience? 

A recent one was when I was driving to Birmingham and was listening to an hour long podcast about the Death Tarot card which covered, as you would expect, philosophical discussions about death and its various guises/meanings. The second the podcast finished I looked across to the opposite lane and there was a hearse with a coffin in it driving past me. It blows my mind how the timings of a lot of things had to be spot on for that event to occur at that exact time, and for it to have that synchronicity aspect to it.

How does your sense of place affect the way you express yourself? 

The majority of the music I write tends to lean more to the melancholic but I’m not sure if that’s as a result of where I live or that I’m just a miserable git at heart!

What has particularly touched or inspired you recently?

As previously stated I’m really inspired by this esoteric journey I currently find myself on. I’ve no idea where it will lead me but I’m just going with the flow at the moment. These type of experiences tend to seep into the music or writing over a period of time, generally subconsciously.

Tell us a good story, anecdote or joke

I was waiting at the bus stop years ago to get the bus home from work. I was at the front of the queue, the bus arrived and the driver opened the door. As I stepped on, leaning forward the bus driver accidentally closed the door. Before I could react the rubber seals on either door squashed my face momentarily. People behind me sniggered as I remonstrated with the driver who was very apologetic. A bit miffed and embarrassed I slunk to the back of the bus and sat down. It was only when I got home that I noticed there were two black stripes down both sides of my face from the rubber door seals.

Wyrd Question Daze: Raymond Tani

My name is Raymond Tani and I was born in Toronto in 1960. We lived in a bilingual (Finnish, English) home that kept a strong connection to our roots in Finland from which my parents emigrated 8 years earlier. We were not well off, but found a way to go up north to the forests and lakes as often as possible. Our family found sanctuary and identity in the northwoods, something that has shaped me to this day. My mother was a lover of opera and classical music which she most definitely imprinted upon me – my first love in music is classical. My sisters gave me exposure to The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Doors and Jimi Hendrix. My father, who went to war at age 17, was wrapped up in war songs played on the accordion. I think the table was set..

Unknown No.1 by solemnland on Waxing Crescent Records

Cover art by Megmayo

Where did you come from and where are you going?

I came from a modest and economically depressed beginning involving violence and alcohol abuse and have been charting a course in a line – away. I would see my children spared that if humanly possible.

What preoccupies your mind these days?

Trying to remember  everything I need to remember and expressing these emotions so someone else may encounter them and say- “Yes, I know this feeling too!”

Name a favourite taste, touch, sound, sight and smell

The first coffee in the morning on a canoe trip, the feel of my wifes hand slipping into mine, the A0 note on the piano resonating in the chest, a brown trout rising to a fly you’ve tied, the smell of woodsmoke especially tamarack.

Describe one of your most vivid dreams or nightmares

A fever dream. My sweat drips onto the sheets and becomes blood droplets which proceed to make the sound of a jet engine on take-off.

Have you ever had an uncanny experience?

I encountered a bird of prey once as she was mantling her kill and she looked up at me – through me – actually. I saw recognition in the bird’s eyes. I know she thought the same.

How does your sense of place affect the way you express yourself?

There’s an old saying – ‘Wherever you go, there you are’ and by extension (for me at least) where I am at, is what I am feeling. As I am not wealthy, most of my travel is courtesy of literature. And that brings to mind the quote of Thoreau – “I have travelled a good deal in Concord.”

What has particularly touched or inspired you recently?

Watching a full livestock truck on its way to the abattoir. Seeing their eyes. I’m not a hardass anymore. It’s almost unbearable.

Tell us a good story, anecdote or joke

OK, you asked. Apologies in advance. There was a small country parish at the outer edges of the settled lands that existed in diminishing degrees of attendance. The church was led by a spare, nondescript  pastor of humble needs and frugal of mind. As week went onto week, and season begat season this pastor inwardly despaired at what he considered his failings as a shepherd. His flock was waning and too, his church was becoming dingier and dingier. This house was reflecting the state of matters inside. In time the pastor realized his flock was in danger of becoming less numerous than was seemly. He strove to think of reasons for his sad plight when he decided to appeal to another authority. He dropped to his knees and holding his hands prayerwise he implored  for direction. “I beseech you, tell me what I must do?” He perceived an answer. This house needed sprucing up. It must reflect something more uplifting. And so, the pastor decided to paint the outside so it would fairly shine. Alas, the parish was a poor one and the pastor reasoned he must be frugal. The next day he rode into the nearest town and purchased paint. It was costly. More than he was comfortable with but he knew he could do this job and not spend much. When he returned to his humble house he set out to paint in hopes of turning the fortunes around for his small flock. The problem was soon evident that the paint was insufficient for the task – but no matter. Water was free, plentiful and at hand. He would help the paint in doing what needed doing. Stretching out the paint appealed to his nature and by next Sunday he had finished. He waited for something, perhaps new members, perhaps words of approval from the old flock. There was none. In fact it seemed the numbers had dropped. He was in despair. The next week proved the same. Finally he dropped to his knees and in frustrated tones asked aloud “I have done what I thought would help! I have tried to make my shabby house shine but- I have failed! My efforts to increase the numbers are for naught. No one is impressed. No one approves. What oh what must I do?!” He heard a voice from somewhere high – – “Repaint, Repaint! And Never Thin Again!”

Music is the focus. Experimental, avantgarde, electronic.. Free classical. Free classical is to classical what free jazz is to jazz. My music is found primarily on Bandcamp.

Also on Apple Music

Raymond on Mastodon

My poetry which I have been writing since the 1970’s can be found on WordPress

When You Don’t Hear Wings At Night

When you don’t hear wings at night
and eyes
seeing – nothing
but overloaded with task
deciphering ten thousand
shades of can’t see enough
taking the anemic
from apologetic eyeballs
somehow passing off
the bits of sign
to the ears or,
for chrissakes, the nose,
a report card. The mental
headscratch follows.

you think
it must have been an owl
because I couldn’t see it
and I didn’t hear
the wings.

As well some of my photography can be seen here

‘Forks of The Credit’ (1975?)