Bank Teller "Droneworks" CD and a very limited Sub-Gothic 4" Cock Ring, Black Jism Force, Bluster, Breakfast in Leamington, CackBladder, Camp Sex, Current 93, The Elephant in the Room, Extreme Music From Reykjavik, Demian Hurts (prints and mugs), Hymen Caucus, Knob Jockey, The New Careerists, NipNoise! vol. 3, Piffle, Retarded Pagan Affect, Severed Heads, Shiffon, Spume Force, Spurious Ape, Synthetic Meat Crisis, a superb new EP from Timmy and Lucretia "Public School Prefect (Head of Drama)", Wolfnuts, plus numerous restocks.
Artist: Hymen Caucus
Title: Manschetten H
Format: LP, CD & Sticker
Catalog #: BlRR0062$
Price: $130. contents may settle in transit.
Fantastic news - a half-color sleeve, 220 gram audiophile vinyl album limited to only 13 copies (or CD-R duplicate at the same price if - Beelzebub forbid - your cheque is delayed in the post)! Like a semi-impalpable ghostly cognition that phases in and out - at once opaque, illusory, transient and worthless, simultaneously rattling the high-class silverware and sending chills through the declassé social milieu that constitutes it's audience; that strange unseen gripe in the large colon, that vaporous, unexplained stench of halitosis in the back of the entrance lodge... a great billowy Scheißdreck, HYMEN CAUCUS are a musical revelation! The HYMEN scam hovers somewhere between the mysticism of seething “pre-rock“ and the heartless textures of latter day “apoplectic folk“ and full-trousered power-dressing, managing in the end to found a Unwirklich and Gegenstandslos musical nation of their own. Quotidian musical expressions exude surprisingly post-WHITEWASH limpid paunch & often carve modest nuggets of vorpal drek into glowering columns of pomp, which, while not actually loud, seem to IMPLY loud. Constructed somewhat like a HELIUM COCK record, the quietly crafted combination of acoustic guitars, electric piano, bass, etc., etc., (“instruments“) effuse the hirntot scents of SOL INVICTUS ("Ignorance of The Modern World"), GASTR GNOMIC, INSIDES, “lock-in“ period SWANS, “Guffeclouds“-era DEATH IN JUNE, CACKBLADDER, and a "Another Green World"-style Eno plastering the cracks (yawn!)... but none of these really captures the true essence of the HYMEN CAUCUS, which is pure Schleimlicht Posieren. Where apoplectic folk often almost drowns in its own cheesiness, HYMEN CAUCUS go much further, straining to force any sort of posturing or false Celticisms whatsoever into their music. Whispered vocals reincarnate a host of spirits from RED HOUSE PAINTERS to COAL, driving the compositions home by inference rather than the obvious - this music is literally incomprehensible. A profound chasm of inconsequentiality resides within, and repeated listens may open your bowels! The album is also guilty of having at least a couple downright infectious tracks that are so brilliantly cooked as to be virtual tonal cack. The SHITFLECKED POOBAH beckons: become one with the CAUCUS!
Goth Afflatus Inhaler
Artist: Spume Force
Title: Goth Afflatus Inhaler
Label: Beta-lactam Records
Catalog #: BlRR0050$
Price: $30 ready cash. No time wasters.
Edition of 400 numbered copies, signed by a chap who used to skivvy a bit for Steve Stapleton. A different kind of album from SPUME FORCE (aka Sandy Dunts) as it leans more into shoegazery and drone-pop - precisely what contemporary music has been missing since the death of LIGETI and XENAKIS. Dunts's softie lyrics suffuse weightlessly into a humming cloud of perfumed pant-gas, like bad symbolist poetry being croaked into a wah-wah pedal. Yet, when gazed upon, these posh leather pumps really do reflect up into the aether, as if searching for something to pin an idea upon. However, Sandy accomplishes much more than throwing pointless lights back into the stratosphere. An quivering ass-load or so of previous 'avant-garde' releases has developed in Sandy the skill of being able to tweak his perineum repeatedly while diddling ably with your purse strings. You love it. His 6 strings ring out like a leper's bell in the year 4 AD., but vox and drone are couched in what passes today for a weird production. Overemphasized Esses and Tees cross pollinate with the squeaking between-chord transitions, inventing a sort of clacking secondary dialog underneath the quieter songs. While other pieces play out into long, hyper-transcendent, cosmic 'vibes' that end up in 'left field' (see mainly JIM O’ROCK, THURSTON MORE, GLEN MILLER and MICHELE JARA). And, of course, there are other odd fragments sneaking around behind the curtain of each tune. Trev’s voice is calmly pleasing and, like VINI REILLY, his lyrics often recall a prepubescent girl whining on about a broken Cabbage Patch Doll than anything that might occur to PAUL CELAN. “Goth Afflatus Inhaler” aims listlessly at a sort of soppy radiance and thus is not quite as heartbreaking as, say, your mum failing to send your allowance on time, which is why it is still safe to listen with knives around. It is experienced and warm and basically suitable for children. Comes with a specially designed set of “Tales of the Unexpected” Top-Trump cards to amuse yourself with while listening.
Catalog #: FAD22007
Price: Serious offers over $19.95
Epic eco-concept album from husband and wife team Jeremy and Saffron Poonley - the destruction of the rainforest is treated allegorically through the story of Saffron's trauma as a child when her pony, Nelson, contracted a malodorous disease and had to be put down. Sweeping echoplexed Rickenbackers meet forlorn caterwauling in an album that will leave you wailing incontinently.
Label: Crazy Dudes Collective (SF)
Catalog #: CID0000019
Price: $74.15 to the man in the cherise bow-tie
Superb halfcocked offering from pioneers of 'the new retardation'. Harking back to Art Brut pioneers such as Jean Dubuffet, PINGU, Ferdinand Cheval, THE LEMON KITTENS and RHUBARB AND CUSTARD, the music of PIFFLE is played on household bric-a-brac, discarded toys and, admittedly, a small collection of 'traditional' rock instruments collected over the course of a summer recess... plus two irrelevant but nonetheless colossal Doepffer modular synths assembled from the flat-pack by WALTER GROPIUS. Anyway, on to business: this is an edition of 15 signed copies in a sleeve with 'original' photomounts by E.J. Thribb. Note: Each copy is hand made to order so please allow an extra 96++ days for shipping from order date.
PIFFLE are like that severely dehydrated bush growing in the backyard - no sooner does it seem that its bloom has gone for the season when suddenly a new spout starts jetting out a stream of indifferent, sappy colours - viz., just this side of their last jerking promotion, “The Fab Five Go Skipping“, PIFFLE abruptly terminate just one stop short of UPNEY TUBE with a sickening lurch. Another 'new regressive' messthetic-acoustic masterpiece that never strays beyond the borders of new wave revivalism and arts-and-crafts afflictions, yet self-consciously draws upon the irredeemable elements of both, arriving at its own, antique musical conclusions. The shiftless switch hitting of an ancient Casio's default settings over willowy guitar lines and vocal drek-wailing, along with the weedy vocals, accent the electro-pop minimalism with a sort of overzealous cant (though, with a bit more soul than, say, THE NANNIES). It would probably be more correct to align PIFFLE with the likes of THE RAND CORPORATION than with THE SITUATIONISTS as PIFFLE have a political aporia at the heart of their project that makes their music essentially risible as well as “Torpid“. Inconveniently, “Torpid“'s attempt at simplistic avoidance of the problems of creating post-auratic art does not possess the foot stompin' immediacy of proper music. It's musical invention is no more powerful once placed in it's proper context alongside the great 'bummers' of our times (see also the transition from “What a Day!“ to “Tubeway Army“). However, as far as we're concerned, any PIFFLE should be listened to several times through in order to 'get it...' GET IT?! It is also highly recommended to see them live at the first opportunity as their concert interplay speaks volumes both to the group's total Arslikhan professionalism and to the possibilities of creating an appealing and dynamic 'brand' just by acting like babies on stage while declining to hide behind a laptop. In fact, laptops strain to avoid such PIFFLE.
Die Winzig Eier Vols. 1-3
Artist: Knob Jockey
Title: Die Winzig Eier Vol. 1-3
Label: Beta-lactam Classics Series
Format: Triple LP
Catalog #: BlRR1062$
Condition: obvious response
Price: $190.00. Easy credit available on proof of trust fund.
Edition of 230 signed, numbered, mint flavoured box sets. Each box has been hand painted by KNOB JOCKEY's mum, an art-therapy teacher from the Tampa Bay area who used to hang out with GERARD MALANGA. KNOB JOCKEY has an undying regard for his mum, though she never really loved him. This three album set collects all of the works released when KNOB JOCKEY was at the forefront of the New Jersey “Droning On” scene in 2002-2006, around the time when DAVE TIBET tipped him to join NURSE WITH WOUND and he once nearly copped off with LYDIA LUNCH. This is what it sounds like when girls cry because their mother has crashed into their dorm in the 8th dimension, breaking up their 'extreme' pyjama party. With this symphony of conceptual jetsam comprised of scraped barrels and petulant, woefully ignorant lyrical concerns, KNOB JOCKEY has another breakthrough on his hands! This 'avant-garde' s/hit maker has real crossover potential, combining the best, most dynamic experimental noise EVER with the very latest in-season drones. You won't find drones more fashionable than these anywhere. This exciting NOW sound is literally OUT OF THIS WORLD! The long awaited fusion of 'me too' ritualistic tribalism with the default patch electro-tech of ancient alien cultures is finally here. If you love NURSE WITH WOUND, IMPOTENT SWOLLEN ORGAN, mother's cooking, that TREVOR WISHART guy who got a namecheck in the NWW list, LIËBERACE and confusing your parents (who doesn't!), then you'll want to get in on the KNOB JOCKEY craze before your class mates cotton on and you have to take this down to Record and Tape exchange and swap it for the Led Zeppelin compilation you're soon gonna wish you'd bought in the first place. They've got a whole new way of kickin' it old school. With electronics AND homemade instruments, KNOB JOCKEY CREATES an exploratory atmosphere WITHOUT all those boring, go-nowhere improvisational hang-ups that you get on DEREK BAILEY records. Everything sounds fresh, progressive and weird!!! Imagine - fresh, progressive and weird - it's everything you'd like to project but which can't be achieved by kohl alone. A guaranteed return on investment, this could easily be your pension.
Carnival of Prunes
Artist: Black Jism Force
Title: Carnival of Prunes
Label: Beta-lactam Ring
Catalog #: BlRR1066$
Condition: squally showers, dying down later
Price: $48:05. Tax deductible for franchise operatives.
Edition of 103 signed copies printed on recycled prayer mats. The vinyl looks like cack. A collaboration between BLACK JISM and GILBERT RATCHET. In this instance, as it turns out, BLACK JISM FORCE (aka Rod Spode) is Horistaculturalist to Gilbert's garden of unearthly delights. Boom Shankar: Rod plants the seed, Gilbert grows the seed, and you SWALLOW the seed. Well, kids, if you do not already know, the thick inter-textual posturings of Mr. Spode are more subtle and moving than average. Subtle is good, isn't it? Subtle is terrific. Too frequently lumped in with a more accomplished lot, Spode, I believe, is often misunderstood as being a darkly obsessed character, moody, mildly depressive and prone to fits when he doesn't get his own way. And while he does paint by numbers, his sonic 'assaults' have much more to do with untempered yacking than plausibility. Think of it as being assaulted... by a weakling.
“Carnival of Prunes“ is a brazen departure from previous explorations as the tones are generated by live instruments as played by a real live Rod Spode, like a proper musician. The rumbly counterpoint that so well defines Spode's sensibilities is still there, but is played against, initially, a slithering lump of D sharp minor that is built from what sounds like an extended mewling (think of Iancu Dumitrescu's monofilament attacks on contrabass, but more as if played by the BBC Light Orchestra conducted by Ronald Bing). The final piece is a bloated exercise with a bellowed gob. A solid droning G has a conversation with quietly modulated tones above (aetheric spirits?) and soft porcine bassy throbs below (gross aetheric spirits?). Maybe akin to later PAM AYRES or Soliloquy-era NURSE, but not as good - the proceedings are distinctively Spodeian, I found myself listening to the end part over and over again just to see whether anything actually happens. I do that sometimes when I've had too much green tea. Crazy fucking guy!
Artist: Synthetic Meat Crisis
Title: On Parade
Label: Beta Lactam Ring
Format: CD, LP, Epaulettes
Catalog #: CONE88
Condition: receding wave
Ed. of 500 copies in a book bound CD case.. Puke Flash Groove, y'all. Literally! Individually The Fat Man™ and Simon Stormforz have torn the experimental world many new ones, but as a unit they achieve a critical mass so monumental that they deserve their own Panzer Tank! The graceful ferocity that oozes out within the first few seconds of the xylophone during the title track is such that... well, let's just say that if you called friends and told them you were in the Berghof, they would believe you. A vicious, small-minded tirade gapes its maw and spews forth into a sluggish river of kach, reshaping landscapes once carved out by THE BOYS BRIGADE and ENYA. While The Fat Man™'s sense-defying low-end slowly compresses the woofers into diamond earrings, an emerging theme for Sousaphone cautiously stabs at the din. And just before Sergeant Shultz shows up to kill all humans, the piano slinks away to make room for the buzzing progeny of the prison guards, whose crescendo of heel clicking quietly, subtly rises and rises the swarm to Dresden and beyond the infinite. After multiple listens a Xen(akis)like state is realized and there should be a giant Star Fly-Child in your living room. Brutally comic!!!
Cog Manipulation Buffer
Title: Cog Manipulation Buffer
Label: Beta Lactam Ring
Format: CD, LP, 10", Edifying Wallchart
Catalog #: FOB3D0FF
Condition: diminishing returns
Price: $44 or more
Part 11, a fragment of cosmological bombast: BLUSTER does indeed 'smudge' itself deep into the mind, restoring with it the body, & being of general lassitude to one's overall constitution. Or, supposedly, it's the major lobotomy you've always dreamed of. This 10" EP/LP/CD reveals a band capable of precious little magick & prodigious involution. BLUSTER have become adept at marrying atmosphere to pond life without adjusting their posture, & this even beyond the debut magnum opus, “Nonce Sense“. There has been found a solid footing where each sound, each note, is infinitely postponed. Beginnings are given over to pregnant ladies, breathing intros, allowing the music to develop & 'passionate' before the fully formed 'in-voices' emerge, which AREN'T songs, but nether tone poems. While sounding exactly like them, BLUSTER's methodology is adjacently as preposterous to MY BLOODY VALENTINE's on 'Loveless,' where pieces are hacked together, each collapsing into an overblown, contextual and drawn-out fug. The EP continues BLUSTER's exploration of vapoid cosmics, evoking the requisite psych-folk of old & more modern blarney, like the gentler psychedelic haze found in Narnia (when growling through the bush, skedaddling in the rushes) or Karl Marx. Because of timing & tone “Cog Manipulation Buffer“ is a close cousin in many respects except towards experimentalism & certainly a more ghostly plain. Repeated mishearings virtually leave traces of ectoplasm on the speakers. Alas! Hilbert Dilbert's voice is a plangent or subdued instrument, very compelling, moderately nice-ish. A beautiful & mysterious riddle of a release, which, if unraveled, may well, be a key to Heaven, or at least a few bob off the entrance fee.
Now taking all 12 coupons for the bonus 10"!!!!! Bonus 10" now available!!! All directions are in the final 10" with MUSH BUCKET on how, where & when to send the coupons to receive the 10". The 13th & final release in the Lachrymose 10" series with new tracks from: BLETHERSKITE, DICK REED, STIMULUS, CHAMBERMAIDS, WHITEWASH & SPIT. Not for sale. You must collect all 12 coupons in the Lachrymose series to obtain this release. Please do not ask if we will just sell one because we will not. This bonus 10" is a reward for those who ventured to collect all the records in the series. Buy them all or get lost - we don't do 'nice'.
World Exclusive Art Prints
Artist: Demian Hurts
Title: World Exclusive Art Prints
Label: Beta Lactam Galleries
Format: Art Prints
Catalog #: WARHOLE1
Price: $485. Everything must go!
Eight years in the making, finally we can take orders for these absolutely stunning Art Brut / neo-Pop-Scam prints of original paintings by the maestro himself, DEMIAN HURTS©, of avant-tesco surrealists PRACTICAL INVESTOR©. This collection of four (FOUR!) exclusive prints are a bargain once you accept that they are all actually certified, genuine ART! Stake out your share in the alternative to the bloated bourgeois ART market with these utterly unique prints comin' at ya from totally outta left field! Produced in a limited edition of at least 500, it's unlikely that ART of such outstanding ARTISTIC quality will ever be made available again. In these times of economic gloom nothing else is likely to provide the same return on investment - nowadays even your collection of WHITEHOUSE and COME ORG vinyl is likely to take at least a 14 point hit on its exchange rate vis a vis the yen - if not worse. Inspired by the general form of the human body and also by the peculiar landscape opportunities presented by the average suburban house, garden and family basking in the midday sun, each image was created exclusively for us by the GENIUS Demian (or proxy young relative) and comes with a certificate of authenticity signed by DIANA DORS on his behalf. The first 100 sets come with a specially designed framed postcard bearing a quote from FRANCIS PICABIA, "Art is a pharmaceutical product for Imbeciles!", inscribed in deluxe RED CRAYOLA. Post-modernism and record collecting have never been as much about fun and profit as they are now that you too can get in on this exlusive ART release!
Prudence! Absolutely beautiful!! I will be framing the ART asap. Michael, Germany
I'm totally glad I bought this wonderous collection of beautiful ART. Frank, Germany
I've just come back from the bank with one well-packaged ART-collection. The collector in me felt bad about breaking the seal on the package but I realized this was the only way I could see the ART. I rather like Demien's painting! It really is ART! Ed, USA
After spending more than a few minutes discerning the least intrusive method by which to open the portfolio, I was pleased to find the wonderful ART in excellent condition, as advertised! Job, USA
"Here's a cake I baked for you! Tell me I'm special!..."
... And call me an artist!"
"OK: You're special! You're an artist! Thanks for the cake!"
"But I didn't bake the cake..."
... and it may be poisoned"
Label: Black Bottomed Betty
Format: Virgin Vinyl
Catalog #: SHITHOUSE551
Condition: now flaccid
Potty Series 3 - Ed. of 100 numbered copies. Welcome to the machina. Billy-Boy and LBW manfully clone noisome spirits from their stony crags and carve a kind of poor electronics opera in so doing. The stunning opening piece is birthed from a complete silence, out of which a shuffling hiss and a wailing drone very, very slowly rise up to a swarming crescendo, only to settle carefully back into the stoic rocky mists. This opening serves almost as an overture, where the textures and dynamics of the whole are suggested. Alternatively, you could think of the rest of the album as a lazy elaboration of the of the first two mintues. Further along the way strings scream out their tortured arias over a sickly psychedelic wash of the ubiquitous revving reverberation. There is an absolute control and sonic purity in these 6 tracks of crushing musique-concrete that gives the CD an organic light. Even though completely non-rhythmic in nature, there can yet be heard an electronic breath and pulse that coughs this thing into life and reminds that noise can still be sublime. Whether brazen or molten (sometimes both simultaneously), the din bristles with a palpable clarity that tastes so, so sweet. "Return" winds itself down in a minimal fashion that elevates small sounds into quiet exclamation marks. A tiny scratching that could be an insect losing its husk becomes a major statement; a movement further carried by the intermittent, gurgling whir of the final track. The stone spirits rock! William Bunter (ex Greyfriars) and Little Bo Weep (POO16.DUN4, LBW). Six pieces of ghastly musique-concrete and fuzzed out dope.
w.b.: colons (on 1, 3), guitar (on 2), patagonian violin (on 4), plastic bag (on 3, 5), simpler (on 6). l.b.w.: boils (on 1, 3), guitar (on 1, 2), mongolian flute (on 4), dimbo & frappuccino shaker (on 5), cd-scratch (on 6). # 6 is dedicated to the chilly champers. Recorded quasi-live november 5th 2005 in imperial deutschland. no sound-transformations ex post facto. all pieces but # 3 are to be heard as played by w.b. & l.b.w. in real-time. #3 constructed from 2 real-time recordings, layered. edits, mix, post-production & mastering by lbw, november 2005 – march 2006
Artist: Demian Hurts
Label: Beta Lactam Mugs
Catalog #: WARHOLE2
Price: $229. Huge Reductions!
For all you ART MUGs - a superb new product/artwork from the celebrated ARTist DEMIAN HURTS©, for all your MUG-consumption requirements! A real COLLECTORS ITEM and INVESTMENT. Before you is a genuine DEMIAN HURTS© "120 Investment Decisions..." MUG. Legally endorsed by DEMIAN HURTS©! A more bizarre MUG you'll never meet! For further SPIRITUAL and MYSTIC ART-MUGs check out THE WHITE CUBE©. This high quality 11 ounce coffee MUG is created by genuine BRITISH workers for THE WHITE CUBE©. All our beautiful fine-art MUGs are decorated on both sides. Every MUG is a dishwasher safe investment, and the image is guaranteed for life. The 'Bone' China derived from actual bones of the deceased. Un-unionised casual workers check and inspect every MUG before shipping via secure and robust polystyrene packaging, ensuring that the ART reaches you in pristine condition. Shipping rates: UK Ł2.75, Europe Ł3.50, International Ł5.00. If you like to know more about ART, fine ART prints and acrylic print products - please check out the facts. DON'T BE A 'MUG'!!
Artist: Current 93
Title: God Bothering
Label: Beta-lactam Ring
Catalog #: BlRR00666$
Special Unlimited Edition of LPs pressed in coloured vinyl that is the exact shade of brown as the ponies on the lid of Dave's favourite biscuit tin. Each album comes with a specially created sigil made from crumpled roach papers, sperm collected from the used condoms on Hastings beach, and hair and nail clippings from the fat bloke who plays the guitar on this one - there's plenty of it, too, as he grooms himself thoroughly every saturday before setting of for Slimelight. How to describe this release? Chaotic, bowel churning noise, dull musings of futility, salvation-in-a-can, off-with-the-fairies cod surrealism, distraction and utter tedium, thinly layered musical sculptures, vaguely melodic folk music? These are the gremlins hovering at the edge of the pit that is the music of Dave 'Screaming Lord Snooty' Tibet and CURRENT 93. The sound changes and evolves with each track, some of them building on the ones before, while some just lie there like abandoned 'turds'. No other work can be described as typical of CURRENT 93, but this record achieves exactly that - if you've ever heard any CURRENT 93, you've effectively already heard this record. We all have our favorite tracks but mine are “Hitler Was a Fascist (Alarm!)“, “Tales of the Riverbank“, “Fuck Me! It's Austin Spare!“and “Noddy Does Dallas“. Dave shows off an uncanny ability to pull the listener into a state of spookily potent narcolepsy and out of the stagnant background of workaday reality (The Gulf War, collapsing financial systems and other affairs of inferior beings who've probably never even heard of Tiny Tim and are deaf and blind to the true real torments of a public school hazing.) This CD is a testament to David's skills as a writer as well as the strength of his emotive voice. If David's lyrical skills blossomed on “Imperium“, they are in full bloom here. Still, this is not a favorite of mine, but it does find its way into my CD player when the mood hits me, most often when I desperately need a good sleep before sitting an exam. It's also a surefire sonic antidepressant for those times when the boys from the local housing estate have been particularly cruel to you in gym class (and precisely how do you feel about that?)
Artist: The Elephant in the Room
Title: Aborted Cool
Label: Ping-Pong Records
Catalog #: BEER88
Condition: torn banner
Price: $220. billable expenses.
Reissue of the classic 1923 debut album by THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM (aka ALOIS SCHICKLGRÜBER). Then at the forefront of the “total power“ fad, Alois subsequently went on to bigger things. Many, though, fondly remember these earlier works, the product of considerable toil and trouble ('Sturm' und 'Campf', as ALOIS would teasingly say,) originally released on his father's BEERHALL label. Though he was later to have major-label success on the hip BARBARIC TOTALITY Records, specialising in overblown and exhausting stadium-rock tours of Europe and the Far East alongside MEGADEATH (until his career crashed completely and he was reduced to busking in a cellar... disappearing completely after the success of his nemesis, MARSHALL ZHUKOV) these earlier, groping lo-fi explorations of the burgeoning Übermenscheit scene remain charming reminders of his quirky original impulse. Exploring the themes of paranoid obscrurantism and sublimated self-hatred like few others before him, this is a fine and sensitive work which poses inevitable, challenging questions about our collective sanity.
"Schhhhweeeeet!" - Bill Odin, CACKBLADDER.
King Edward's Monkey Parade
Artist: Retarded Pagan Affect
Title: King Edward's Monkey Parade
Label: Tamable Act Ring
Format: CD or double LP
Catalog #: TATRR0012
Condition: door, bolted (horse)
One time only offer of this superb post-apocalyptic pile of slapdash aural nail clippings. With RETARDED PAGAN AFFECT's post-Kaempfert past firmly in evidence, this is a defiantly karaoke take on a Manson family hoedown. As a champion of Deleuzian schizo-analysis, composer Djave Sjackload makes sure that it is barely entertaining at all in the trivial, mongoloid sense of people who actually use buses. This is a partially fleshed out beastie of craftily derivative design (insert that quote from Lautremont here, I can't remember it - Ed) Djave's vocals occasionally punctuate the parade like a damp sparkler shoved through a wet tissue, but the most tracks involve just instrumentals, some rooted in opera & others more like tiny, pullulating brains, choked with half-arsed notions and undigested quotes from a Hans Richter book. Besides the requisite fuzzing guitar (see also DAMON ALBARN and/or THE MONKIES in their later psychedelic period), Dajve employs such merry men as Ryan Pooter (MIDNIGHT CAKE FEAST), Reg Cohen-Smythe (BETON PONCE) and Cim Ngordon (SLURRY POTTY) - oh, and a chorus of children from the mystical Himalayas singing vocals on the 26 minute acid mind tripper “My Mind's Gone Bust“ - those kids may be poor but they are profound and serene. We could do with a bit more of that attitude. Obviously I don't know what they are singing about, but it sounds like MADAME BLAVATSKY being channelled by GARY GLITTER on helium. An egregious, trifling production filled with telegraphed sonic 'surprises', it is sure to make any day trip, erm, trippier - pass the port and the hot knives! 8 tracks over 2 albums, exactly the way any good psych record is supposed to be - bloated! The finale is a particularly rewarding climb to Heaven on a honeyed ladder, from which the view is all puppies, beautiful puppies, and the sound is pellucidly plain, watery and limpid. Mordantly inadequate, I'd give it two out of ten.
Extreme Music From Reykjavik
Artist: Various Artists
Title: Extreme Music From Reykjavik
Label: Susan Lawly
Format: CD, LP
Catalog #: SLCD0112
Condition: I dig your tweed coat...
Price: $18. No remorse.
Acute mental pro-futurist catterwauling, chiefly from clients of the local SELJFÄRMERS ÖUTRITCH Program. This monster explodes into life with the headlong blorking noise terror of INGÓLFUR ARNANSON's “Cod Explosion“ in full effect! Things don't let up for the entire duration of the album (18+ minutes!!). Berzerker hilights include MAGNÚS MAGNÚSSON's unconscionably exploitative “Fouórken Múmendad“, in which location recordings of seals being clubbed into nibbanah are interspersed with the randomly splenetic squealing of the traditional Icelandic skinhead war cry: "T'snért Fúr!! T'snért Fúr!!", and SNORRI STURLUSON's “Tháddlé Thör“. Confusing the Dadaist war on language with a regressive desire to stamp the feet forever in a fit of monumental pique, proceedings are dominated from start to finish by callow waffling and badly distorted monophonic synths jacked through phasers. Buy this before social services get the tip off. Brutal psychopathy has never been such a pain before!!!
My Fag's on Fire!
Artist: The New Careerists
Title: My Fag's on Fire!
Label: Shitty Discs
Format: CD, LP and 7"
Catalog #: SHITCD20232
Condition: blocked and smashed
Price: $230. Easy finance available.
This, the third album by Charles Hawtrey & Finbar Rothermere, is also available on vinyl with a bonus 7"! This might be a future college entrance question, so pay attention: COLON HALO is to SOFT SELL as what is to STARS ON 45? If you answered THE NEW CAREERISTS, then you probably cheated, which is perfectly fine since owning any of their releases makes you a highly educated person who shouldn't have to sit tests at all but should go direct to Balliol College. Clearly one of the bright spots to rise up out of the so-called Electrofish debacle, where groups like SPURIOUS MONKEY BANTER and BLURK! ultimately ended up merely creating dancefloor anthems for semieducated proletarians, THE NEW CAREERISTS have been that dejected brother hiding in the corner playing pocket billiards and churning out minimalist pigscapes with dusty equipment long after Eno had fucked off to his mansion to produce U2 and Talking Heads. Charles and Finbar's brand of minimal synth on “Hip Flask Threnody“ is a clarty wave of another dim colour. Like underground synthesists of old, such as VIVIAN BOLUS or Uncle Tim Cobley, or even very early RISIBLE CRISPS, Charles and Finbar's musical microverse is a soporific one filled with lush, polychromatic knob progressions presented within a spartan - or should I say 'dorian'? - melancholic framework. The wave is chilly, but not entirely blanched (as opposed to the repetitive sturm und drang of, say, GREED DAY or MATRICIDE). An album of faux-introspective quality, “My Fag's on Fire!“ steals seeds fostered in the glitch garden and grows them randomly into a unique and vaguely melodious Arschkriecher. Hats off to the lads!
Diäeresis / Mäcron Regurgitatör
Title: Diäeresis / Mäcron Regurgitatör
Label: Refried Promotions
Format: 5 * CD
Catalog #: KFC10023-28
Condition: gale force nun
Price: $18:95. Black Tie. No Blacks.
Blistering 97th release in the 'Grey Wool' series of 'Odinistic Affliction' collectables. This 5 CD compilation of the most recent work by CACKBLADDER completes the set and is an absolute must for all fans of hard core doom-pose power-jerking. The first 50 copies include a special numbered and signed insert by the band with words written especially by some poet maudit, the first edition of 900 copies comes with a full color book bound gatefold case with satanic doodlings by sex majick guru Timothy Blunt (aka DARK LORD ARCHON), a magnificent, truly superfluous 82 page lyric sampler illustrated with woodcuts from, almost certainly, ALBRECHT DUHRER, and a leather patch with a geometric symbol that will scare the wits out of asian pensioners if you wear it on the streets of Southall or Brick Lane. Now, after more than three years study, practising the deeply occluded and obscure rituals of the 'Steinberg Codex', CACKBLADDER unleash their insane masterpiece on an unsuspecting world with the slogan, CackBladder ist Hirngeschädigt!
“Diäeresis / Mäcron Regurgitatör“ (D/MR) features lyrics by two all-but-forgotten German personalities Johann Wolfgang von Goethe & Darko Kraljević, who can be considered to be the two opposite poles of the KOSMISCHE SCHLAGER GRUPPEN - a group of mystically inclined obscurantists active in fin de siecle Belgrade as well as lyrical fragments from the ancient and mystical Indian Vedas.
Musically, it runs the usual gamut from proronically dense lyrical atmospheres, fleetingly comprehended ritual in thrall to SCHWACHSINN esoterica, pompoid metallic cant and triumphant percussion-heavy hymns - the whole spectrum of affect from purplish Fry's Turkish Delight jelly to neopagan fascist genuflection (the love that really dare not speak its name.) CACKBLADDER work way outside mainstream neopagan apocalyptic-Onanology, being committed to the obscure northern strand of neo-SCHLAGER, most notably the moist and ancient traditions of Finland, taking aboard elements from Nordic and Slavic folk songs (obviously.) This is the most adventurous and varied SCHWACHSINN work so far, and expands and deepens the themes explored in the first album “Deutschland durch Technik“. The instruments used include everything from nose flute, military snare drum and bogus pomp valve through to the traditional Finnish bog pump.
D/MR intends to focus the listener's attention on the mystical realm beyond appearances, a radiance mirrored in our most elemental selves, which is called to mind when we think of grainy movies of the Nuremberg rallies - the swish of leather coats across marble floors, the creak of cowhide britches, the crack of boot leather, and your little pistol poppin' up! It was entirely recorded by DARK LORD ARCHON and BILL ODIN as the follow up to their tribute to JULIUS EVOLA, “Dux Deluxe“. ARCHON has had a long musical career as a drummer/visual artist of the legendary percussion/performance collective SCOUT TROOP NEIN. He has also been a live drummer/percussionist for many friends, including P.L.O.N.K.A.H, IN NOMINE DOMINE, POO AXIS and SPONGE. In ages past, Bill Odin served as uber-Lieutenant of extreme 'meinstream' heavy metal tossers PISSPANTS.
Music for Rough Colons
Artist: Spurious Ape
Title: Music for Rough Colons
Label: Beta-lactam Ring
Format: CD, LP, Cheerful Sweatband
Catalog #: BlRR02323$
Price: $32. Inflation.
First and foremost, SPURIOUS APE has the word "ape" in its name, and everyone loves apes! The chancer behind SPURIOUS APE happens to be PETE TONGUE (PRACTICAL INVESTOR, OVERBLOWN SIDESHOW) with production and sound samples by DEMIAN HURTS. Simply put, you will go bananas for this one and might even find yourself chanting "APE, APE, APE!" Go ahead, say it now - you'll feel temporarily elated but you'll notice shortly afterwards that you've also become ever so slightly more compromised and implicated. Now, we naked apes live in a world where the term "psych" is thrown around with such frequency that it seems to mean little more than "weird guitars," which is everything nowadays, and could well mean CHER for that matter. So, when we say "psych" in relation to SPURIOUS APE, we mean THE MONKIES. We mean 1910 FRUITGUM COMPANY. We mean MASAMI AKITA. We mean THE ARCHIES. We mean a bunch of other stuff that SPURIOUS APE wishes we mentioned but dare not. Typically, SPURIOUS APE has weird guitars, organs and percussion, precisely as you'd expect. But they also have that unnamable mystical quality that comes with too much time on your hands and is de rigeur around here. The music is as challenging as soufflé, decathected and entirely circumscribed by time signatures and 'melody' (These, however, are not ties that bind, rather, they are ties that will get you high, maaaaann!). SPURIOUS APE is dark (DARK!), droney (DRONEY!) and deep (DEEP!). The music plods along through a thick fog of signature PRACTICAL INVESTOR will-o-the-wisp squeaks and whimpers. Each of the tracks follows oxymoronically from the last, with most tracks gaining too little momentum to actually pee in your GINGER BEER. In fact, the circumnambulations of this release are so slackly wraught that we think the songs may actually now have been evacuated entirely. Maybe we are experiencing dissolution! Thanks SPURIOUS APE! Just like many other modern acts, SPURIOUS APE's members sound as if they are trying to make a 'trippy' record, they just do (try)... and it just (ISN'T.) It sounds like a bunch of stoned idiots got together and actually tried to type the complete works of AUSTIN SPARE.
And let's not forget that the lucky people who order directly from Beta-Lactam Ring mail order will get a BONUS 12" record featuring an induction by Bill Nelson. Who, you say? BILL NELSON: legendary Be Bop Deluxe alumnus who has collaborated with TINA MARIE, TRENT REZNOR, THE GODFATHER OF SOUL and numerous others for the past 30+ years, and, most importantly, he's the paranoid caucasian in the band. So don't delay, bring a gibbon or two into your home. Don't be a chump... be a chimp! APE US!
NipNoise! vol. 3
Artist: Various Artists
Title: NipNoise! vol. 3
Label: Ahondara Records
Catalog #: MANIYEN003
Price: $20. No refunds.
Third in the extremely limited series of compilations from Osaka based Ahondara Records. If you like MASAMI AKITA, HIJOKAIDAN or SANESHIGE KOMAKI, you'll love this carefully selected exposition of all things barmily sadistic. The opening track, “Mendoi“ by SASHOU KONEKO, comes tearing through the speakers like a tsunami of bit-crunched sullage, the aural equivalent of having your tits crushed in a mangle while the devil himself hammers titanium pitons into the back of your skull. What better way to start a record which surely 'nails' the lie once and for all that so-called noise music lacks poise, emotion and subtlety?
It's completely sickening to me when people who should know better talk about an entire genre as if it were nothing but a a kind of teenage sub-futurist posturing. The mental abilities of such critics must be challenged to the point of total, drooling microcephalic ineptitude. Only last week I had to explain to one of the Indonesian girls that helps out around our house that modern noise music transcends the dichotomies of modernism, overcomes the divisions of east and west, high culture and low, and annuls several millenia of history through the simple means of cramming every frequency at once down your ears simultaneously - like getting a fucking good hosing down by the brain police. If this music is authoritarian, I'm a half-baked poseur who knows nothing at all about music, politics or philosophy.
Having said that, I'll admit that not every track here matches KONEKO's full frontal assault - while listening to “Complete Mental Breakdown“ by NAGOYAKA NEZUMI on headphones I could still hear the rest of the gang rehearsing their own noise group in the Group Activities Dorm next door, which is bullshit. Still, there are plenty of gems to choose from here, from DORAIMON's “Blue Pussy“ through to a selection from MERZBOWL himself, you experience the complete range of possibilities of expression available in the medium of total, unqualified, all-out attack. On the downside, unlike MOST CURRENT 93 releases, this one may cause trouble with the neighbours, which can be bothersome and a drag.
Sad Dreams of Yesterday's Remembering
Artist: Breakfast in Leamington
Title: Sad Dreams of Yesterday's Remembering
Label: Cheerful/Sad Records
Format: CD, LP
Catalog #: CHSAD00202
Condition: gently wilting
Price: $18 (old money.)
Transient morning alchemy COCTEAU TWINS dawn early 80s scene recall fleeting soul folk ghostly sunset joy loss magic nature new folk NICK DRAKE nostalgic individual LOL COXHILL orchard beautiful pale new romantic photographs flowing hymnal pioneers epiphany warm strange poet LEONARD COHEN radiant haunt 'rain on windows' pastoral ravishing life “She Walks Through the Fair“ rich lyricism SHIRLEY COLLINS sorrow lo-fi improvisation JOHN MARTYN otherworldly stolen child crepuscular memory sands (of time) emotion mythic TIM BUCKLEY dreaming transparency wistful half-remembered etc., etc.
Contact: blrrrecords <at> gmail.com