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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	If there’s no rules, why would “experimental” music all sound the same? Simple. Most lack the talent-balls (O-D) haul around as standard equipment. Comparisons to Kool Keith might have to do with heart-bizarre reality lyrics, original beats, or radio drama, but that would ignore the shredding jazz-rock guitar, synth abuse, marching gamelan, handheld bent-tapes, stressed drum machines and full gorgeous vocals on original love songs you'll first doubt, and then believe! Occasional Detroit The BEST in Abstrakt Ent.	As an idling tractor shakes you rougher the more slowly it throttles, Black Mayonnaise is an engine lulling you the nearer it comes to killing. "Doom-sludge" and "extreme-metal" can’t begin to explain the cyclic minimalism that Duncan adheres to, allowing for rifts that pluck at your mind, a rare drum hit cascades into memory remaking the environment, leading the way to complete waveform devastation. As one Russian reviewer put it, “The common irrational structure is called to completely disorient you. And this purpose will be attained." Silkscreen black on black gatefold. Black Mayonnaise Unseen Collaborator	A deathly-cold terrifying streak orbits the globe, caught in its gravity, then plunges, its impact rings the Earth lie a bell. The earthquakes and tsunamis are nothing compared to what follows. Humanity will not go down without a valliant fight, but it will go down. The dead are eating the living, a total rotting victory. For the first time on Earth, a global party. Scott Arford's soundtrack to an imaginary film unfolds in nine parts. Unblinking, it awaits you even now in black and red digipak. Scott Arford Zombie Dub
His schematics for sound circuitry scarily parallel his diagrams for princeps in Nature and he really will swap circuit designs for your plant specimens. Peter Blasser's Din Datin Dudero, Tranoe, Ambrazier, and Rollable Synth behave differently depending on who plays them; hearing an instrument tangle with its creator... now that's plain spooky. One call-and-response erupts in a scream that couldn't have come from either! Insane sing-songs succumb to faceplants in jagged sinewaves that scurry off under fuzzed brain hum. Booklet of instrument portraits included. Peter B Luteus	An exhumed abomination lurches forward, closing distance with a swiftness that locks your knees. Seizing your gut, a darkened face fills your mind. He’s come in through your ears! The bestial throat, frenetic viola abuse, sickening sines of the Volterra Infrasound Mirror-Image Processor haul you out to land's end of Reason... the edge and abyss of Nature's indifference. Jorge Boehringer's music sends the mind on errands of uncanny, personal dread. Super fun! Core of the Coalman Anxiety	Our fiercest release yet. Three masters at play in a game of "Bat the Head 'Round the Charnel House." Xome vs Tralphaz start the fray then all three go at it with sudden compositions of pummeling, white-knuckle noise. Impossible to listen sitting down, luckily your head will be rolling around like it's pacing the floor 'til at last Eco Morti lets her "wwOLVERinepantherrrr cougArrrRBatTssssss" show you to the breath after which there is not another. Xome, Tralphaz, Eco Morti Battle of Primordial Energy Manifesting in Matter	Stuck upside-under and dragged bashing through you dunno what... a driftnet of dead kids' braces, the pliant ribbing of freshly pulled larynx, the glassy grit of shredded circuits? The range is astounding, Tarantism's widest soundscape to date. Subaudible voices fold into electroacoustics found hiding in pure sines that crash onto krautbeats. High replay, a different listen every time, the whole onslaught arrives in a triple silk-screen work o' art from Austin's Bearded Lady! Stick this one way in. Tarantism Stuck to the Bottom
East-West Bicameral Hypnagogy with Anti-Ear, Carlos Giffoni, Hans Grusel, J Graf, Liz Allbee, M.V. Carbon, and SIXES. This is volume one in what will be a series of induced collaborations. These are improv duos among seven musicians from east and west coasts. Track one is a full circle of exquisite-corpse style duos, each artist playing two minutes beginning with one musician but finishing with another. Eat this disc. V/A Mutual Hallunications Vol. 1	-- SOLD OUT -- Cassettes are hunky-dorky but this release, originally on Smegma's 'Pigface' label was destined to see the light of cd lasers. In the way your nightmares are yours alone, find yourself comfy on the couch, face planted in the boobtube 'til vacuuming nipples suck you headlong into the horny dark. Murderous guitar, scrapey bells, bottomless laughter and language in a surround of percussion. No two packages alike, built entirely from recovered urban detritus by the founders of psychysterics themselves. Extremely limited copies. Smegma Live 1991-1993	Seepage of electroencephalography, the incidental accuracy of AM talk radio, a frequency built of errant subfrequencies, waveforms discreetly engraved as patterns on cash unravel as electrical currency. An eye that can perceive everything at once must, of necessity, be the ear. Bill-folded reflective-ink silkscreen package forged by J. Runcio, "most beautiful Resip release yet" says Anti-Ear. Earwicker The All Seeing Ear	"...a very modern ballet performed on broken legs by little girls, over-weight imbeciles and an orchestra featuring the finest talent available." Appalling, despicable, classy, wretched, hot and wet, this is the definitive archive on Earth of Chicago-based lovely little girl genius Gregory Jacobsen. A thirty page book of drawings, CD, comprehensive film and video works, live performances, photo galleries, and jangling gems too saggy to stay hidden. The Ritualistic School of Errors s-t
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