Friday, November 23, 2007


Beautifully putrid purple 7" vinyl plus a lovingly embossed dark violet dog-headed woman lurking on the sleeve: this can only lead to trouble.

On the apprrrrropriately-titled "Altered Beast" queasy-sounding machinery lathe-cuts itself into existence: there's a trumpet buried in there somewhere, shy n skitterish, under the analogue noise-skree and the radio-tape-skkarf: sounds roil and swirl, pulse and skid over themselves in a sound-mulch of oil and ice; this is a zillion miles away from the digital Black Metal-led Nu-Noise shit-storm of Prurient, Hospital records et al. - this is Old School Noise, how folks used ta do stuff back before all these noo-fangled technologies meant that every 14yr-old with black eye-liner and an attitude could become noise-scenester (not that there's anything wrong w/ that, y'dig). It sounds like two or three old David Jackman records/cassettes playing at the same time, uneasily pitching themselves in and out of cracks in yr head. There's a great bit where everything falls away for a few seconds leaving only the sound of wireless-sets fast-chattering to each other, before everyone reconvenes for a coffee dn the launderette. Later, everything spirals down a virtual plug-hole - good riddance, I say!

"Axe magnitude" (good title, dude) starts w/ sped-up sine-wave-squawkage as tape transports lurch into life, sliding in and out of ill-fated electro-machanical relationships like an early line-up pf SPK splitting up - he gets the drum-machine; she gets tha kids. It ends with a premature-ejactulation gtr spprrrrrrrt.

I like to think the colour of the vinyl plays a part in the way this sounds. Please humour me. Heh.

Big up Michele Scario. Months old, this record, I know, but this ain't exactly a cutting-edge blog; I sometimes have to go out and buy the paper, play Barbie Werewolves w/ the kids, so what d'ya expect, huh...

Available from Dokuro, in Italy, I think, who seem like a major laff and already have some seriously interesting stuff lined up for real-lease. May their names be forever burned within yr ear-drums. Remember me in yer will, Lottie.