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Saturday, October 21, 2006

CASSETTE CULTURE #4

Across the blogosphere the debate continues to rage...in oak-panelled gentlemen's clubs, men with strange-shaped beards assemble and smoke odd-looking, twisted perspex pipes filled w/ a strange green moss, while blank-eye'd moose heads look down on them (these are not stuffed trophies, but undead zombie-moose who bray and snort their disapproval). From Hello to OK magazine, the question on everyone's lips is:

Does Fricara Pacchu actually exist?

The yay-sayers point to a fresh body of evidence that includes this release (Lal Lal Lal #29 from Turku, Finland)...a cassette album called "Space Puppet" wh/ is attributed to Fricara Pacchu. Is it real? Or is it a con; a double-bluff created to con the foolish and the gullible? Is this all just an elaborate hoax? Am I in on it? Fuck...W-who am I?



It doesn't matter whether Fricara exists or if he's just a figment of someone's ummmmmagination or a pseudonym...the fact remains that this is a remarkable collection of (mostly) electronic space-trash w/ titles like "Megasolar Bodyslam" and "Snail Territory" that exhibit the same degree of wit and enthusiasm and invention and bloodyminded sheer alienness as the best of Richard James' early 90s releases.

Oh, look! Another way out of the 'electronica'/Eye Dee Emm Post-Aphex hypervirtuosal prog-splatterbreak coul de sac that a whole raft of electronic music drove up (then couldn't find reverse).

Echoplex'd analogue electronics collide w/ their cheapskate Casio digital preset counterparts: machineswarf, bubble and swirl...drum-machines chug and huff, trying to keep up w/ Robby the Robot as he skids past on an air-sledge...someone hammers the fuck out of a synth-pad or something, while elevators plummet and air-raid sirens squawk and computers crash: this sounds mostly unsequenced, with overdubbed sounds piling up like miniature c-c-carcrashes. In places, this reminds me of a (very) early angst-free Cabaret Voltaire...elsewhere, I can hear snatches of "Zuckerzeit" era Cluster...this is a refreshingly Industrial-free zone, the other side of the TG divide from the likes of Wolf Eyes...druggy electro-psych machine jam-downs...creamy 1971 klingklang krautdelica w/ Conrad Schnitzler coming up on a fistful of pills...

Then, just when you think you've got the hang of things, someone turns up w/ a drum-kit, a guitar and a van-load of FX-pedals, then kicks out the astral motherfucking jams...metaphorically speaking.

On "Ray of Light": a microsecond-delay'd beat-box stops n starts, hiccoughing its way in betwn accoustic gtrs and something that sounds like an electronic bagpipe. It's kinda like early The Durutti Column after a bottle of cough mixture and it's fucking gorgeous.

Wouldn't it be great if Fricara Pacchu didn't exist after all and this music had just made itself up?

5 Comments:

At 8:25 pm, Blogger Desperate Living said...

Music can make itself up I think. I often wonder what all that discarded tape is abandoned on paths and streets. If you taped it all together again, it would probably be some great piece of music, or, a voice from aliens.

 
At 9:43 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

Yeah, I wonder if anybody's actually ever done that...? It seems so obvious that I feel sure someone must've, but maybe they haven't (grabs coat and runs for the door)...

I genuinely believe that music is self-evolving, that it follows quasi-Darwinian principles (s'obvious, innit?)...that it has a life outself of us and that it wears humans like a wardrobe of clothes, and that we wear music in return. Some sort of symbiotic/synergystic realtionship, Guess...

 
At 9:24 pm, Blogger Desperate Living said...

I bet nobody has done it...go on Kek...it would be great to take some random pieces of tape and loop them. Music is alive and just weaves itself around trees and makes new crotchets and minims of meanings in different places. The broken parts are often the most interesting of all. The ripped shreds cast a spell that mesmerises more than any continuous piece ever could. Shards and fragments and momentous rips are what I'm interested in. Give me broken music over complete movements any day.

 
At 10:15 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

I'll buy that for a dollar....

Okay, next time I see bits of old cassette tape in a bush, I'll salvage them and try and build a tape out of 'lost' weatherworn sections of music....discarded CDs are another possibility....you sometimes see old scratched CDs laying in the gutter; perhaps I could sample random bits in from those...but I like the tape idea best....

I've really got back into cassettes over the last couple weeks; virtually everything I'm listening to right now is on cassette....

 
At 9:42 am, Blogger Desperate Living said...

I love cassettes too, I was just mourning the loss of a tape that I really needed yesterday. It had a hand drawn (in felt-tips) of a Robert Crumb lady lying on her side. It was a really great compilation tape.

I wonder what you would find. I'll start collecting any bits I see right now. A rip-torn Kollective of sound, eh? Great stuff.

 

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