Saturday, July 21, 2007


Yeah, so anyway, I set CD-player on Random.

One: Some sort of mid-60s electro-accoustic drug-binge is in progress. Muffled, yet somehow also sonorous at the same time. Dull bells and the battle-drums of Tribe Limbless. They're eating Bob Dylan!

Two: A hellish kill-machine from the Warhammer 4000 universe lurches into action, mowing down legions of armoured ghouls with some sort of blue-pulsing death-gun, electric whips and rapidly spinning razor-scythes that eviscerate everthing in their path. The sky rains bloody hands.

Three: Haunted organ music from an evil, old well. Some sort of Japanese computerised goblin lives down there spinning a web from dark green shit. Alt.soundtrack to "Hideo D: HellBitch Dead Stalker."

Four: I really don't want to talk about this one; it's too fucking disturbing.

Five: A dense, roaring cloud, malignant and unfathomable, falls upon the listener. Distant fire-engines. A machine wants to eat us. We fall into a dark purple vortex made from our own memories.

Six: Tape-transports stutter and howl. A murderous toy-robot limps around a 1960s amusement arcade on broken caterpillar-tracks. We fall into an arcane, automated mechanism that uses knitting-needles and rotating sanding-disks to progressively strip us of our skin. The soundtrack to yr own eventual demise.

Seven: 70s Biker Flick on ultra-fast-forward filmed by Jeff Keen. They Kill/rape/fight/drink/make music at 270mph. Alien cops kill them at the end. Credits in sickly black neon typefaces.

Eight: tape-crumpled 4-bit drum-machine over oil-drum gtr-line and the sound of faces scraping against granite.

There's loooooads more, but why go on. This astonishingly inventive CD fucks with yr head on a whole bunch of levels - it succeeds in somehow being both pyschedelic and post-industrial, invoking a series of unflinchingly raw soundworlds that are as original as they are unexpected. A mad mulch-up of primitive electronics, gtr meltdowns, found sound, cassette-deck abuse, live jams, circuit-bend-outs, thuggish beserko percussives, Brut Concrete - sometimes all on the same track! To be honest, the jams on this CD have blown me away - I'm sooo gonna have to raise my fucking game. It's ages old, I know, but I live in a cupboard-sized micro universe that's forever 6 months outa synch w/ The Spectacle.

Non-Horse (or NonHorse) is G. Lucas ('Glucose') Crane, better known for his antics with Vanishing Voice - I'm pretty sure he played on their fantastic "Stone Tablet" album, which you really do need to buy fucking pronto.

Of the Haraam CD, G. Lucas says: "Its basically a dream description. I was lost in a desert maze and I kept encountering small rooms and situations vibrating with hidden alien pitches and molded rules. A small alter, a reflective bowl, a spear shaped candle. I was trying for a crystalline structure with the tracts the same length like the facets of a large jewel. The desert was long and ponderous, and I had to speak to enemies and old kings to gain my freedom. This was while i was living in a blackmoldy basement after traveling for a year, so I was psychically unmoored and traumatized by New York city. The source material tapes were mostly stuff I recorded in America on tour, moments with other musicians in hotel rooms and backyards."

Available thru Release The Bats, you lucky fuckers.


At 10:19 pm, Blogger Cloudboy said...

we must live in a parallel universe, look what i just ordered

At 10:31 pm, Blogger kek-w said...


I must get me a copy of that!

By yet another coincidence, I've just ordered a copy of "MANDIBLE FRONT" a couple days ago which should be turning up next week some time...

At 10:35 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

Oh, weird....I just remembered I used the line "Moths drink the tears of sleeping birds" in one of my recent Moth-related posts....

oh fucking double weird...(just went and checked) this:

...I actually suggested that you and I used that phrase as a track title (!!!!)....I certainly wasn't aware of that Non-Horse CD...(cue spooky music...)

Love the pop-up book packaging!


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