KID SHIRT

Sunday, December 16, 2007

GARM: THE ZEROS

One of my total fave CDs a few summers back wuz the frankly post-incredible "Acid Skull" release by Garm on Time-Lag...glad to see the ol' fella's still on the case:



Marvellous packaging and even mor/e marvellous music. This is slightly more upscale than the last release, I guess (but who's counting?)..well, okay, more electric, I s'pose, but it still maintains an aura of what-the-fuckkk mystery in that it refuses to fit into most contempo templates of what constitutes 'good' music or life-style choices. Distorto/lo-fi production values, natch; twisty semi-electic 'Blues'; muffled vocals and a healthy side-order of hisssszh transform this into a mini-masterpiece of sweaty, slippery, Post-Metal sheeeenaniganns. "Then I lived for months inside a womb," sings Garm, sounding like he's buried fifteen feet below the surface of the tape ("I was born one day in a flash of light/Now I don't know what the fuck to do/Look at me, I'm a fucking human being"), while he attempts some sort of P*st-Punk Camp-Fire reconstruction of a lost Sabbath bass-line. I-magine if Syd Barrett had grown up somewhere to one side of time, breast-fed Norwegian Black Metal maybe...or Wreckless Eric was raised in Utah on Foreigner mix-tapes played at the wrong speed...there's some fucked-up synth/varispeed-tape interludes, attempts at barnyard jiggery-pokery cum low-rent 'prog' and jangling guitar-mulch...I love the way this CD starts with insect chatter/mystic hiss/machine hum and erupts up in/2 a dissonant wah-wah gtr-line, then w/in 30 seconds later plateau's into a wailing vocal cum doomy sludge-plod riff ("Die like me, that is my dream...Black like me...Black like me...Black like me..." on and on and on thru some antique transitor-radio smuggled in under the bed-clothes...) - time to ditch yer Ariel Pink reccids: this is a whole new awful sub-level of re-imagined basement-FM song-grit - oddly familiar, but warped into unpleasantly novel forms; uncontrived, never self-conscious...I can't even imagine what drug might suit this music and that can't be a bad thing. Songs start and stop after 30 seconds, overlap or seem to run over each other; ideas collide and reform, splutter and halt. So many ideas, so little time.



I'm ashamed to admit that I don't own every single fucking thing this guy's done. It's wonderously addictive on a huge level...also have to confess I'm getting this awful yen/unscratchable itch to get everyt'ing that Nonhorse has recorded - it's a similar need to absorb every nuance, every single weird, unexpected tape-stop or stutt-ttered vocal, reductionist crunch-riff or half-hearted synth solo.

The distro puff-thang says: "Real sweet new solo release from b.r. garm of visitations, attar cups, a m frank, etc. if yr ears were bent by his ’acid skull’ cdr on time-lag a couple years back you’ll find a lot more to love here. maybe a bit more hi-fi this time around, but still whole heartedly home-fi, and just as full of crude, simple, and half cracked stream of consciousness song gush. totally damaged fuzz soaked folk tales of animals, strangers, love, new england, deep thoughts, demons, diseases, paranoia and just about everything else. nice fold around b&w vellum packaging, with insert & printed disc tops. on big blood’s micro label. recommended."

Roger that. And don't even get me started on Vistitations astonishing last vinyl release.

Music to fucking die for.