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Four minds writhe in poisonous hisses then align, feather, and float across a cathedral, water dripping audibly from its ceiling, transforming the space to wild banshee dionysian proportions counterpointed with sounds austere and mechanical. Kenta Nagai raises a Shamisan, Hichiriki and his throat together with the far voice and violoncello of Audrey Chen as Miya Masaoka conjures Koto with electronics and Hans Grüsel, rummaging in a suitcase of blippoo box and bugbrand weevil08, douses for… then detonates waveforms. If at first you perceived four directions, find yourself now surrounded in one. Masaoka, Chen, Grüsel, Nagai s-t	Chain-draped kalimba played with the soft speed of Texas banjo, fiddle and accordion master Ralph White, its acoustic distortions convoluted through a range of materials (rigged to transducers) in Horaflora's custom-built sound system, yield a crumbling wet firmament of timbres. The songs by which the sounds were discovered are transfixing, psychedelic, transporting; in fact, they invite site-specific listening: Binaural methods make track one best suited to headphones, track two must be heard outdoors, and track three includes unadulterated Weddell seals and is best heard underwater. Lose your map, this is music uncharted. Ralph White and the Horaflora Sound System s-t	Loachfillet dwells on the lakebed of a lifelong musical vision where analogue synth, beaten bass, tape loops and aging electronics pour forth sound too crushingly deep to escape. From a funneling eddy at the start of track one, down you go, descending his bubble column to a booming bass guitar wreck shimmering with algae. You plunge deeper still, down ten expansive tracks to the finale, titled Hell, with waves so heavy they'd buckle prettier heads. You’re here to stay, lungs full at last. Loachfillet Electric Pond: Solar Solution	Nothing rattles windows or sinks stomachs like analogue synth. Here, fourteen fanatics of the Serge Modular system contribute their best tracks: Benge joyrides in a 1972 Serge, Hans Grusel “quarantines” time in his labyrinth of Serge circuits, Carlos Giffoni paints a diorama of one unfortunate Winter in the Caribbean, Jan-Hinnerk Helm perfects eight seconds of human voice, and John DuVal (his “Fist of God” Serge among the largest ever built) sounds a plangent “distress call” from 40's sci-fi hell, plus nine more artists pitching volt heat! V/A Serge Modular Users 2009
Drawing current and breath through metal... it’s hard to picture just how either is possible, but Schnüffler plumbs the backwaters of both aural miracles in an engrossing, if pageless, storybook entitled "Rauschbereich." The name of Gino Robair and Liz Allbee's hyper-attuned duo, Schnüffler, is a colloquialism meaning someone who huffs substances. "Huffing" is equal parts curiosity and consuming obsession, and as any huffer knows substance has a way of vanishing. So hork up yours before this handbuilt edition of just 56 copies, end-pages beautifully illustrated by Allbee herself, is gone for good. Schnüffler Rauschbereich	-- SOLD OUT -- Warm, fuzzy, rabid in the way a soft muzzle tickles your neck then turns frenetic with the nibbling insistence of long teeth beneath lippy velvet. No one conjures sanguine madness like Liz Allbee on this her long-anticipated solo release. One side is titled “Outside Inside” the other “Inside Inside”. Drawn from recordings at Marin Headlands Center for the Arts, it includes two entire takes of a single mental composition overlaid to reveal how timing/structure speaks to itself. The edition is limited by the number of keys on a piano once the instrument has been nibbled apart into pairs of hammers between which are nestled spools of magnetic tape, soft, shiny, ready to slip like warm marrow into your palm. Liz Allbee Warm Marrow	Witness avant-garde maestro Gregory Jacobsen’s fetid funland here rendered in sound. Prepared piano, cranberry sauce, strangled throat, flamenco guitar, operatic soprano and a quivery accordion succumb to a teetering pipe organ as it ushers in teutonic chorales. Music this cakey rich can only be the culmination of long, scarily obsessive years. The result, a vaudevillian feverish horror complete with narrative threads that tug at abject fear before unspooling in puerile fantasy. If you dare to know where music can go, this is one orgy best entered at home and alone. Contributors include members of Cheer Accident, Black Bear Combo, and Brilliant Pebbles. Six-panel digipak features Jacobsen's wretched paintings! The Ritualistic School of Errors Sweat Stained Fancy Heaps for First-Rate Ladies	Sound (just like smegma) needs obscurity and ample neglect to really ripen. 30 years along, if Smegma themselves roll down your ol' Pacific rim (as they did in '04 on tour with pop-pantywaists, Wolf Eyes ) prepare for pure dumb joy. Like a rupture of personal sepsis, completely engrossing yet indescribable. Or give up waiting and drop this live specimen in your lap right now. Behold as sebaceous sounds begin to spread, from Seattle to LA you’ll hear a sac of garde-avanteers discharged along the way including: Jello Biafra , Steve Mackay (Stooges), Tom Recchion, Ace Ferren Ford, Josh Mong. Once exposed, take some time alone right away; these things only gets worse with waiting. Smegma Live! 2004
Stare too long at Moog-master candymaker Hans Grüsel (his moustache a pair of clockhands!) and your seconds could be up. Return a smile from Gretel, you'll end up in a grin that never fades! Safer to listen from here as the Kränkenkabinet chugs away, spawning a trap door here, slamming a finger there, daring consciousness to believe the clarity of a thousand simultaneous sound crevices. Here appears an unnatural "Blue Blooded Door" to the infernal heart of the contraption, handcarved with all new compositions including “Sturm and Drang [at sea] plus Grüsel’s live accompaniment to Dallas Bower’s film Alice in Wonderland. Artwork by Loachfillet in his hall of all wood mirrors! Hans Grüsel's Kränkenkabinet Blaue Blooded Türen	Slipping drums collide with mulching bass to yield the perfect fundament for synth-vines to take root as a tornado of violin funnels from the sky. Featuring members of Triangle, Mahjongg, Zeek Sheck, and Bones, 0th send you scampering through soundfields so lush they obliterate light one moment, tickle your face and crack you up laughing the next. This, their debut release, ranges from wagging boogie to savage noise. When delight turns to panic as you realize death by tickling is horrible way to die... use your last laugh to yell, Tammy! 0th Tammy	Savant-idiot video collaborations from the founding members of Brown Whörnet were never gathered, until now. From unholy rites of gall bladder extraction and enlickment, to awful animation, avian snuff, and film concret, they anticipate tv's Tim and Eric by years. And even if their gut slugging Ruins-esque wretchrock came after Ruins, recreating their 1997 cassette on this DVD with scopitonic oscillators is still way ahead of anything no one still hasn't tried yet. Curious? Uh huh. Stunned to drooling or screaming in painful leaking laughter, you'll want an absorbent bib when you set your head in front of Aaaartfÿstte. Super limited. Four-color silkscreen package by Stin-G with handcarved block-prints-from-video by Lucy Antler. Aaartfÿstte 22 Short Noise Videos	Under the green-eyed gaze of two black cats, skozey fetisch executed this crazed composition in the haunted basement of a century-old mansion. Reel-to-reels of acoustic experiments and years of patch programming on the Roland Jupiter 6 were processed, then de- and re-constructed according to silent banter between the cats and pockets of chill shifting suddenly through the room. Strap on the required headphones and prepare to materialize yourself in that cellar, frozen in feline sight, your mind lapped up one tongue full at a time. skozey fetisch this, then
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