THOR'S WOMB
by
BOOBS OF DOOM.
'THOR'S WOMB' was released August 2018 in aid of Carrie's Fund.
Carrie Beckwith-Fellows has a rare condition causing her spine to collapse crushing her brainstem. She needed life-saving surgeries for her condition which wasn't available here in the UK . She needed to raise £100k to get to Spain for urgent treatment.
With a little bit of help from BOBS OF DOOM fans, Carrie smashed the 100K barrier on her GoFundMe campaign (
gofundme.com/carriesfund100k) and, at the time of writing (14/09/18), is in Spain recovering from her first surgery and doing great.
You can follow Carrie's story on the soshals:.
Facebook.com/carriesfund
twitter.com/carriesfund
///Here's what Carrie had to say aboot the music:
"People often ask me what it’s like to be me.
It’s difficult to put into words what it’s like to lay staring at the ceiling day after day after day, knowing that you had a good life and did amazing things but can’t remember any of them. There are no words to explain how scary it is not knowing what you will forget next. Which memory will disappear forever, or what ability you’ll wake up without the next day. I can’t tell you what it is like to be me.
But music can.
When Boobs of Doom approached me asking if they could release a single in aid of Carrie’s Fund I was very excited. I was a musician before I lost that too. I taught myself keyboards age 4, recorder age 6, then piano, guitar, drums, tuned percussion, clarinet the list went on and on. Music was my favourite subject at school. I studied an Advanced Diploma in Popular and Contemporary Music at college along with A Level Music and gained two Grade 8 qualifications in singing.
I studied Music Theatre at Leeds University taking a predominantly music and composition based course, until transferring to Arts Education in my third year allowing me to expand my passion into the visual arts.
I played in many bands, had a short solo singing career doing the local pubs and clubs. I wrote scores for theatrical pieces and worked as a singing teacher.
But making music and writing music was my favourite. There are no limitations when it comes to what you can say with music. I may have lost my ability to speak properly. But music can speak for me.
The song Boobs of Doom chose for Carrie’s Fund is perfect. It’s not your typical chart topper but it explains exactly what it means to be me right now.
When you listen to it, I want you to lie down on your bed. Look up at the ceiling. Put your arms by your side and don’t move. Close your eyes if you need to.
The music is dark. It is isolating. It is daunting. That is me as I lie there, my head emptier than it once was, now I have lost so many memories and so many abilities. The constant repetitive whirring every few seconds in the music is similar to the sound of my IV pump keeping me alive. A constant reminder that my life is dependent on a machine pumping nutrition directly into my bloodstream. Eventually a little spark ignites and I get a flash of something. Half an image, no faces, but something. I can vaguely remember something. But is it a real memory or is it a photo I’ve seen? Is it my memory or a story I have heard. It hovers there in my mind for a short time then fizzles away without giving me the full picture. Emptiness again as I crawl around inside my head trying to find myself. The old me is still in there somewhere. The me who was smart and read books. The me who could follow a movie plot. The me who could answer a simple question without struggling to find the easiest of words. The me who knew what 12 + 5 is. The me who knew what it means when the big hand was on the 4 and the little hand was on the 8 on the clock. The me who could remember my wedding day, my address, my date of birth. The me who preferred watching documentaries and doing complex brain teasers. The me who could write words without asking how to spell them or even how to form the a single letter. The me who believed that I would never have to worry about losing my memories and cognitive functions in my thirties. The me who thought I would be ‘that me’ until I died.
The music is my theme tune as I stumble around in the darkness not knowing how or if I will find my way out. Eventually a melody appears in the darkness. That is hope. That is my supporters. That is my second chance the surgery will give me.
Lie on your bed. Close your eyes. And for a short time, be me."
///And here's what we said:
"Damn near greetin', so we were, when we read that.
Some serious serendipitous empathetic madness going on here.
We met Carrie and her warrior wife Lisa, though online support groups. As regular viewers will recall, both us Boobs of DOOM members are dealing with chronic illness and disabilities. We met online lol. We use our music to explore and try to cope and fathom our illnesses.
Carrie is fed though a tube, same as THUMPER.
Carrie has a degenerative spinal condition, same as SADSACK.
Carrie has cognitive and memory issues, just like us both!
but so much worse.
Here, Carrie has captured the spirit and intent of the piece, and all the feeling that we had tried to convey in sound, that we have always struggled to put into words.
If there's any good left in the world some of this serendipity will flow out into the world and you will all help save a life. We think that's pretty cool.
Brutal truth: we don't care if you don't even bother downloading the track. However, for that 5er minimum you get out latest opus: a 40 mins long droning psychedelic doom epic with a bonkers 20 min remix on the b-side. We do hope you like it. We put a lot of hard work, blood and tears into it. But it's not that important right now...
If Carrie does not get this surgery, she will likely die. For some awful, unfathomable reason, the NHS cannot help.
This cannot pass, people. Even if you don't want to download the song; it doesn't matter!
Go to
gofundme.com/carriesfund100k
Give what you can.
Do it now.
Time is running out.
Thanks."
So, yeh, HYOOOJ THANKS(!) to everyone who bought this album.
[faith in humanity +1]
