PLAYLIST with COMMENTS/REVIEWS

Started by GEWALTMONOPOL, December 15, 2009, 09:30:59 PM

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W.K.

#7950
The Cherry Point - Black Witchery CD, Troniks
Long time since I listened to this, and didn't remind it to be this glitchy and reverb-heavy. At times it sounds like this is recorded in an underground water cavern, whereby every sound is bathed into the waters. It's good though, nice to drown out the club-heavy music of the neighbors while still being able to be productive. Last track [/b]Season of the Witch[/b] is monumental, less dancing in the reverb, but a much more direct, dense churning than previous tracks. Sometimes I hear a background melody creeping to the foreground, or maybe a voice?, and I assume it is an sample from a movie, but I'm not sure. Let's turn it up some more. Good stuff. Maybe I play this again in the late hours when I don't also have to do work, sounds like a good idea.
Straight murkin' riddim blud, absolute vile gash

burdizzo

#7951
Quote from: Yrjö-Koskinen on July 11, 2020, 09:55:21 PM
SLOGUN - ...kill to forget CD
This little bugger is now twenty years old, but it is one I've never listened to for some reason. Probably because I don't really care that much for serial killers and their psychology - I've done the documentary circuit and read a large amount of True Crime shit, but in the end it's either gross or boring to me. Kill to forget, however, is everything but any of those things. The Slogun sound is at its peak here, and fuses with the murderous lyrics and the vocals, which cover most bases from processed whispers to unpleasantly, threatingly whining screams. If you ever find a guy sounding like this standing in front of you, you'd better be armed or have a (well-funded) police officer in your absolute vicinity. The noise is full bodied despite being very non-physical in nature - this is electricity and circuitry, with literally no Finnish man smashing up an oil drum he's stolen from work. Still, it's heavy and shifting between oppressiveness and rabid hysteria. Slogun should really get back to the business of making noise - if he's tired of his old subject matter, this type of sound could support almost any theme except outright silly humor. Apocalyptic Christianity, overly intellectual self-analysis, anything really. Come back to us, Mr. Gun!

I remember this one, and although it's a long time since I actually listened to it, I remember having the same misgiving as you about the the serial killer subject matter. I reckoned it came across, almost, as a bit 'wimpy', and in the end it proved too much of a hurdle, despite the very impressive streams of rumbling and fuzzy noise. No, I concluded that his earlier The Pleasures Of Death was a much better CD precisely because the vocals were processed beyond comprehension. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, and I still listen to the latter the odd time, but not "Kill To Forget". In fact, I see "The Pleasures Of Death" has recently been re-released on vinyl by Hospital. Hmmmm, tempting.

Baglady

ACTION/DISCIPLINE - Mindwipe C60 (White Centipede Noise, 2016)
Something to clear my head before going to work after four weeks of vacation. Longform harsh noise seem to be back now, with all these CDs suddenly coming out, but I remember thinking this one was a breath of fresh air in 2016. It's a non stop americanoise battery, pulling inspiration from the old guard, but Aune and Griggs have their own set of tools (and even more so today, four years later). I love every second of Mindwipe, but I barely remember anything of it afterwards, other than how it felt as a whole. Which is just fine! Like the morning after a good night out on payday.

FreakAnimalFinland

Many more 7"!

Whitehouse tit pulp 7" is about as good as power electronics gets. Bootleg or not, this could be official and make permanent historical memorial sign that can't be kicked down. Absolutely vicious vocals by Philip Best here.

V/A Japan Bashing Three
David Hopkins' Public Bath label 1991 double 7" comp with notable Japanese noise masters. No other complaints than every track seems to cut short. they could go on for another 5- 10 mins!

Knot Music "Extreme America vol 2",
line-up speaks for itself! Shorts but sweet. Skin crime, olson, BLJ, Bastard Noise, Bacillus, Macro

I don't hear enough people to mention PHAGE TAPES. I think his metalchemy comp CD was really good move. Took long time time get done, but now that CD's seems to be making comeback among USA noise labels, this label did some great CD's. Mania disc not to be forgotten! Anyways, Engines of modern dysfunction vol 1. Comp 7", short but sweet, like Knot Music comp was. Facialmess, wiese, agit8, k2, baculum and more...

Z'EV / John Duncan / Aidan Baker / Fear Falls Burning "untitled" 2x7"
Double 7" comp with Z'ev, Duncan,  and more.... I have rarely shaken hands with heroes. One time, at metal festival, I had to man up and go to singer of Atheist, prog death metal group and say that show was really good, and especially your 2nd album was really meaningful for my musical growth. Then next time, I saw John Duncan in his long leather jacket and felt like I probably should shake his hand, .... but would he need fanboy tell how good "Riot" LP is? Probably not. So unfortunately, never said word to mr. Duncan. One of early masters of noise!

Few more 7"s are getting turntable time, but won't mention them to keep this shorter post... V/A Subterfugue 7" signed by mr. Joe Roemer.  All tracks great. SSS/RRR release.

Complete Murder series set was listened. Many 7"s multiple times. How could you go wrong with Atrax morgue, Crawl unit, Surgical Stainless Steel, Macronympha, Hanged mans orgasm, skin crime, dead body love, taint,  Slogun, Deathpile, stimbox and Mlehst ...  Exxxcellent era of noise / pe!

Can't describe the feelings when going through the mess called "tape shelves" and finding the ultra obscure TAINT "Houston / Bellmead"  ltd 20 tape. I almost feel sorry for anyone who would disregard noise for being vile and nasty. Opening samples of this brutalizer gives me, goosebumps. Just utmost PE / texas noise ripper!! Just insane vocal assaults and piercing feedback and total collision of harsh noise.

I looked at discogs and found.. was it 5 different versions of IRRITANT / RAMLEH split tape, but none of them was this 90's Zero Cabal oversize package with different covers than any other. Excellent material showing how Ramleh was probably at their best in the most raw gutter recordings!

Cyberzoid tape was odd electronics and even short beat loops from Ulex Xane back in the 90's. Few good tracks that are almost like HWN, or something that could be moments for Streicher track background electronics.

spyrocyst tachiai "the image of decrease" tape, hospital prod 034. Ltd 20! It's been literally 20 years since last listened this, but due insane packaging, I often look it in the shelves and wonder how it was. Loong tape with static hiss and noise, pretty much HNW prototype going on most of the time.

S*core "morbid moppets" tape from summer 1986! Japanese industrial, in unbeatable level! Good news was that the man was reached for Special Interests magazine interview. He has been out of the scene for 20 years now and quit all the activities... unfortunately.


I have mentioned some of these earlier in obscure Japanese bands topic, but listening again:
Yama-akago is Incapacitants Kosakai's wife doing mostly vocal drone and quiet ritual sounds.

666th Impact is odd Japanese pop culture themed electronics noise blasting. No info of any kind seems to exists of this tape.

Dead Body Art "dada 1995" tape is goofy sound collage which may work best for those who understand japanese. Few moments of noise blast, but mostly spoken word and intentional crap sound waste.

V/A "slaughter age 1995" tape, with advertizement sticker of... I recall Japanese shop I bought it from in one of the visits decade(s) ago. Dark and sinister industrial/ambient suffocations. Some good tracks, not all gold, but certainly good comp!

V/A Autoficial 7" was listened couple of times to start evening. Con-Dom, S&Q, Chop Shop, Haters. 45rpm short and good.

Con-Dom "Prince of our disorder" 3"+tape. I listened the 3" first. It's has sharp and crisp sound in overall recording. Live material. Noise itself is 8th pillar album related material, innovative, conceptual, full of detail and concrete sounds. Live recording gives this great added brutality if compared to studio material. Which is flawless too. Tape is great, as it is not full live shows of one type of sound, but collection of tracks from various live shows and it makes whole thing varied. Different vocals sounds, different level of noisiness. It is always pure Con-Dom. Nasty as fuck and way more blurred and raw than album. Basically one could say Con-Dom live is just playback with vocals, yet these sound utterly different from what studio versions are. Totally essential release in unusual packaging and even more unusual format combination!

Evil Moisture "Creem-Lube Romantic Storage System" tape has been luring me for long time too. Packaging by Banned Productions is pretty damn odd. Just way too large sealed "foam" cube. Had to throw it in. 1993 brilliant tape-deck / pause button heavy wreckage and saturation. It is almost mindblowing that tapes this good would not reissued. 15 owners at discogs... 5/5 rating? Probably yes! I think perhaps Evil Moisture would need topic of its own to make recommendation what to check out and what not. I am not totally sold for everything I hear, but especially with early ones, there are material that crushes a lot of other noise 10-0.
E-mail: fanimal +a+ cfprod,com
MAGAZINE: http://www.special-interests.net
LABEL / DISTRIBUTION: FREAK ANIMAL http://www.nhfastore.net

Theodore

QuoteGood news was that the man was reached for Special Interests magazine interview. He has been out of the scene for 20 years now and quit all the activities... unfortunately.

Found him ?! Spoke with him ? Is the interview done ? OK, he has quited, but is he OK with reissues ? Any more info please ? - Fuck, only the fact that he is alive and someone reached him, gives me hope !
"ἀθάνατοι θνητοί, θνητοὶ ἀθάνατοι, ζῶντες τὸν ἐκείνων θάνατον, τὸν δὲ ἐκείνων βίον τεθνεῶτες"

Fistfuck Masonanie

#7955
JSH/Vomir/Black Leather Jesus/The Rita ‎– U.S. Tour C64 (Foul Prey)

The U.S. Tour tape documents what is very likely the last tour of it's kind pre-Covid lockdown. An exemplary line-up of artists from Sweden, France, America, and Canada. One set from each of the four artists of the tour and I thought it was interesting to note that each artist's set was from a different night.

JSH kicks things off with a short but powerful set recorded at Skeleton Dust Records (*Love this shop BTW). Efficient harsh noise show of force that has peaked my interest in checking out other releases by the artist.

Vomir's set is as one would expect, inflexible and un-shakeable. Hard to go into more detail but it's a good one.

Black Leather Jesus starts off with a smut sample that reminds of a certain ball gag scene in Pulp Fiction. The sounds then quickly turn necrotic and BLJ let's loose. This set was recorded in a NYC apartment and I can't imagine how loud it must have been in what I assume to be a compact space.

The Rita provides a dynamic set I wasn't quite expecting. I think it encapsulates Sam's development of sound over time rather well. Sharp and stabbing sounds which balance and contrast with somewhat quieter expressions of texture and strewn samples that involve a range of some aquatic predators and foot strong dancers. Sounds have a subtle bass mixed underbelly in the stabbing that remind me of stringed instrument bow scraping at times even though I know this isn't the source material.

What I assumed would be a tour-de-force of wall noise turned out to be a rather dynamic hour of live performances! Really happy that the enthusiastic applause from the end of each set were included. It certainly helps recreate the illusion of being at the show. Let's hope we can attend shows again in the near future...

Baglady

#7956
T.D. - Music History: Sound Arrangements For Instruments, Tape, Environments CS (Crisis Of Taste, 2020)
It is what is says really. What the title leaves out is how broken and mangled it all sounds. Thin electronic hiss, crackle and buzz married with warbly samples of chamber music and pitched down voices on tape. Sort of reminds me of the lovely mess Andy Bolus is putting out nowadays on his great Royal Sperm imprint. Nothing new about this what so ever, but there's a funny hubris in the contrast between the titles Thomas DeAngelo always picks and the sound at hand, which that makes him stand out from the "magnetic tape mess crowd". Deliberately putting a nice dress and some makeup on a village oaf, sort of.

MNEM - Elyktrion LP (Verlautbarung, 2020)
I've been going on about the greatness of this LP in other threads and elsewhere already, and I will probably keep going for a little while longer. I wrote the label's description, so I'll refer to that for my take on it. But I'll state again and again that this is most likely the album of the year for me, and certainly my favorite MNEM to date. I can't think of another contemporary industrial album that is as evocative and spine chilling as Elyktrion. Would have served well as an alternative soundtrack to La Planete Sauvage. The world of MNEM just grows. Another album, another strange scenery.

BLUE SABBATH BLACK CHEER - Crows Eat The Eyes From The Leviathans Carcass CD (Release The Bats, 2009)
The label boss gave me this five or six years ago when he went through some old dead stock. For some reason I haven't played it until now, and I realize that I probably haven't even heard BSBC at all before. Their discography is too big for me to start exploring now, but this compilation of odds and ends ain't bad. The band name suggests something rather jovial, but this is surprisingly austere. Big ambiences and big cavernous sounds with plenty of crisp ear-tickling textures and subterranean gurgling in the midst. The screamed vokillllz on "Borre Fen" puts me off a bit, but the rest was all enjoyable.

[MBD]

Quote from: Baglady on July 21, 2020, 01:46:20 PM

MNEM - Elyktrion LP (Verlautbarung, 2020)
I've been going on about the greatness of this LP in other threads and elsewhere already, and I will probably keep going for a little while longer. I wrote the label's description, so I'll refer to that for my take on it. But I'll state again and again that this is most likely the album of the year for me, and certainly my favorite MNEM to date. I can't think of another contemporary industrial album that is as evocative and spine chilling as Elyktrion. Would have served well as an alternative soundtrack to La Planete Sauvage. The world of MNEM just grows. Another album, another strange scenery.

I'm in complete agreement.  I ended up with the tape version but all of your descriptors are exactly how I feel about this album.  Bleak, decaying sounds that seem otherworldly, yet, oddly enough, grounded in our harsh reality.  Easily the best I've heard all year as well.
Material Body Dysfunction & Flickering Coward. Cincinnati OH USA.

https://linktr.ee/materialbodydysfunction

Soloman Tump

Quote from: [MBD] on July 21, 2020, 02:30:06 PM
Quote from: Baglady on July 21, 2020, 01:46:20 PM

MNEM - Elyktrion LP (Verlautbarung, 2020)
I've been going on about the greatness of this LP in other threads and elsewhere already, and I will probably keep going for a little while longer. I wrote the label's description, so I'll refer to that for my take on it. But I'll state again and again that this is most likely the album of the year for me, and certainly my favorite MNEM to date. I can't think of another contemporary industrial album that is as evocative and spine chilling as Elyktrion. Would have served well as an alternative soundtrack to La Planete Sauvage. The world of MNEM just grows. Another album, another strange scenery.

I'm in complete agreement.  I ended up with the tape version but all of your descriptors are exactly how I feel about this album.  Bleak, decaying sounds that seem otherworldly, yet, oddly enough, grounded in our harsh reality.  Easily the best I've heard all year as well.


Have read only good things about this release. Can only see Cassette copies for sale - any UK / EU vinyl still about?  Would be happy with digital but whatsoever seem to be an option.

urall

Quote from: Soloman Tump on July 22, 2020, 12:42:50 AM
Quote from: [MBD] on July 21, 2020, 02:30:06 PM
Quote from: Baglady on July 21, 2020, 01:46:20 PM

MNEM - Elyktrion LP (Verlautbarung, 2020)
I've been going on about the greatness of this LP in other threads and elsewhere already, and I will probably keep going for a little while longer. I wrote the label's description, so I'll refer to that for my take on it. But I'll state again and again that this is most likely the album of the year for me, and certainly my favorite MNEM to date. I can't think of another contemporary industrial album that is as evocative and spine chilling as Elyktrion. Would have served well as an alternative soundtrack to La Planete Sauvage. The world of MNEM just grows. Another album, another strange scenery.

I'm in complete agreement.  I ended up with the tape version but all of your descriptors are exactly how I feel about this album.  Bleak, decaying sounds that seem otherworldly, yet, oddly enough, grounded in our harsh reality.  Easily the best I've heard all year as well.


Have read only good things about this release. Can only see Cassette copies for sale - any UK / EU vinyl still about?  Would be happy with digital but whatsoever seem to be an option.

check http://www.millstonevinyl.se/ for vinyl

Electro Surgeon

SONIC DISTURBANCE

AUSTRALIAN NOISE COMPILATION

HAS UNRELEASED AND SOME NEW STUFF FROM

TONE GENERATOR, JOHN MURPHY, BROWNING MUMMERY

PLUS Tonnes of new Aussie stuff

Take a listen

https://innercityuprising.bandcamp.com/album/sonic-disturbance
INNERCITY UPRISING RECORDS
AUSTRALIAN NOISE AND PUNK

Bloated Slutbag

#7961
See bottom of this post for digest commentary.

Kjostad – Extinctionist
Kjostad – Red Iron Knife

After the Dirge returns the Exctinctionist, solemnly escorting grim-faced Environment Electronics to their logical conclusion. And don't pretend for a moment you didn't see it coming. At the very least you would have to have heard. Reference first the broadened range of material uncovered deep in the deceptively tranquil recesses of Glacial Lake. Reference the better part of the more recent work, in fact, the ever-expanding material explorations of texture, color, mood. Reference the cavernous dirge-like groans of baited cave bears still trapped in the damn cave; the savage threshing of crack-splitting wedgies jammed hard and smarting deep into well-dug channel pan; the seething sizzling accumulations of median ice on a bit of the ol' in-out. Reference, maybe, a choice shade of vermilion you twenty LUCKY FUCKS and no I ain't jealous. Not in the FUCKING least. And would you get a load of the metals on this one: clearly defined hefty boy torsions wrenching clanking stumbling through sedate field recordist pastorals, equal parts ripped-to-shit and circumspect in the delicate extrusions of nuanced introspection, masses of blown-out frequency overbilge strangely becalmed, extinguished, laid to rest in the violent twisting stillness of thatched undergrowth.

Dirge is the first direct point of reference in opener Vigil. Notwithstanding the parallel narrative arc, the now almost patented Kjostad inaugural deep-dive into forested naturist environs, Keen-sounding loon-y tunes setting off stuttered buzz of chopped cables erratically jacked into malfunctioning socket, as though male and female lead were trying to imitate the mating warble of nocturnal lake birds. Much unlike the Dirge-like predecessor, the vigilant sweep of each erratic edge etches white-hot at its terminus, as though itching to let rip, jittery agitations all but ensuring of nerve-jangling disquiet. A perfect intro, in other words, leaving earholes sharpened and perky, tensions good and upped, ready for anything.

And damned if the Extinctionist doesn't let rip with everything on hand- at least, everything in the way of crude hunks of iron bashing into crude hunks of iron. Dirge-crusted Elegy-ac full metal racket of heavy duty junk-scrap cascades in carefully channeled full spectrum avalanche deep in the temple of doom. Every time I hear this track I picture the cover art for Red Iron Knife, but I'm probably getting ahead of myself. I mean, mining for ore would not be considered the safest of vocations at the best of times, leave alone in the turn of the century heyday of the likes of Hiram Bingham. Here the life-threatening dangers are brought gloriously to er life, vivenzational loops and layers gathering in mighty cacophonies of rusty-eyed red. Blood, guts, glory! Heroic larger-than-life-slash-crushing-of-life sacrifices saturate the fullest bodies of the channel pan to achieve possibly the most purely industrial cut from the project yet. Although, being that it is Kjostad helming the steely slammerings-on-down, none of it's getting away without a rightly Riven dash of raspy, ascerbic, burn to roughen up the edges.

In track 3 the Extinctionist at last escapes, if temporarily, the long shadow of Dirge. Fort Kjostad could be even more industrial strength than the previous track, particularly in its core developmental capacities. The heavy duty metals are reprised, but trimmed back to play a much more dominant, percussive, role, heavy-handed slams looping at regularly echoed intervals over jarringly sunny spots of twittery bird chirp. Meanwhile a much colder dirge-like drizzle of grayed amp-hum slowly ascends, soon overwhelming the percussives and bringing with it a sharpened sweep of wider-panned scraping and banging, flits of bird twitter stealing across wobbly electronic oscillations. Where the ascerbic seethe was in the second track more a bit of spice for the edges, this is all edge, the seething salivations washing in wet weaves to borderline psychedelic peak before ruptured, wrinkled, grit kernels completely kill the mood.

Scavengers reclaims the sound recordist tendencies of the album opener, so too the tensions methodically built in the cross-hatched pitches of whitened static-chisel and amplified freezer-burn. First the background amplifications of forest, wind, birds, insects flow together in richly woven white-noise aspiration, then the irregular electronic infiltrations, hums, buzzes, white-hot stutters, start to fray the nerves. In the structural unfolding it almost feels like the commencement of Extinctionist Part Deux, white-hot stutters agitating with increasing desperation, gouging, tearing, almost completely obscuring the ambient backdrop, going out with a final extended wash of purest white.

Iron Edge posits seemingly backmasked metal scraps edging in cyclical scrapes against bitter distortions of crinkled dirt-mound trowel. Incoming airs of ghosted whine signal a more robust channeling of repetitive machine-like murmur and then a looped series of percussive distorto-rips, possibly birthed in overdriven junk-scrap, starts to blast proceedings into brutally frazzled bits, rhythmical iron-edged penetrations mercilessly pounding 'hole, achieving in their overloaded capacities a full-flavored harsh inclination. The closing minute is given over to extended buzzing drawl, smooth rolling loll proffering 'hole-salving massage, a brief respite before the final extinction.

Extinctionist, closing ditty and title track, does what it say on the tin. Massed concentrations of ripped-raw frequency overload, not unreminiscent of Dirge closer Extinguish, extinguish everything in their path. There could well be piles of scrap-metal in there, but all of it is dialed up way past eleven, distorting the field completely. Comes in hard, the invasive thrust of white-edged stab jerking it out with thick belchings of strangulated crunch, driving forward in looped, iron-edged, orchestrations of densely packed earhole extinguishment. At about one minute forty the jets open, filling out the stereophonic scope, massed explosions of incendiarist flatulence breaking the wind with all consuming force and damage. Just when things are about ready to spin out of control, a good hard yank on the reins, white-edged Iron Edge stabs fighting the bitterly distorted return of crinkled dirt-mound trowel. On the home stretch and a furious drive for oblivion, nothing subtle here, straight for the kill, raging white-sheeted all-boxes-tickled scorched earth policy obligingly satisfying the extincionist agenda.




Red Iron Knife would fairly beg for release on a label like White Centipede Noise- in lieu of, say, Militant Walls- and it seems that prayers were answered. Dedicated to the Iron Range, says the label blurb, cutting into the torso of the mountain...for fans of DEAD BODY LOVE. Okay I get all that, but I'd say there's more to it in these (red iron) works. If DBL were on in the offing, it would be less in rapture to Low-Fi Power Carnage and more along the introspective dedications of Hum Of The Druid's Lens On Necrosis, so too perhaps per the similarly invested druidic investigation of Texture in Professor McKinlay's seminal Lake Shark Harsh Noise #1. Let's throw in the self-titled HOtD on Abisko, just for fun. Texture, amiright?

I suppose I oughtn't get carried away too too much. There are subtleties- plenty -constant movement, shift, change. Plenty of opportunity to explore, in a studied and detached professorial bemusement, the myriad fissures, fractures, erosions, the richly mined lines cut deep into the torso of the mountain. Strip mine the bilge-ious piles of asphyxiated scrunch-heap and up peak the clear contours of rusted red iron ores. Apply to the volume knob an incremental torque and note in the bouquet of variegated ozones the nuanced textural refinements. But. This is still as regressive and brutally overdriven as the good professor ordered, redzoned thundering densities huge and all-consuming, bigly hefty boys delivering Metal Induced Orgasms of purest blown-out crunch, DBLesque ferric saturations no self-respecting Druid would touch with a ten-foot staff.

The opening measure of Open Pit Bodies does not, initially give away the game. Heavy steady gouge of caustic percussive gristle, blackened crusts of filthed distortion badgering the rough-hewn iron edges with a looped regularity which would not be out of place among the heftier leavings of, say, Extinctionist. At this still-early stage cracks of daylight illuminate breaks of open-aired amp hiss, as though to give the internal organs time to acclimate. But before long the organs realize that the filth isn't going anywhere, and in fact as proceeds the descent into increasingly dense, suffocating pressures, it's only going to get filthier, murkier, heavier. By about the fourth minute, any sense of gouging or hammering has completely fused with the outlying extremities, the full stereophonic spectrum of possibility carved from the deepest bass, the whole-brained crush of it barreling forward with little restraint or relent.

At seven or so minutes a brief break-down initiates a much more aggressive savaging on in, burnt-to-shit scrap accumulations reaming the filth-walls, rents in fabric suggestive of having penetrated an entirely new hollow. If the sound weren't so huge and burly one might be forgiven in perceiving a certain subsurface spastic inclination, the multiform textural interrogations heaving with brute, dynamic, pressure. At about the fourteenth minute a sudden contraction into strangulated lines of militant purity, about the only deferral on this album to borderline academic line cutting. Soon, however, a new passage is blown open, hollowing out a much wider aperture, the acoustic dimensions revealing sharp, chafing piles of junk-on-junk cantanker that might almost be inclined to reverberate in the gloom were the field not so plainly suffocating.

The end run carries on for a good seven minutes. The field narrows and scrap textures condense to achieve an almost classically harsh, abrasive, grinding consistency. At a few key junctures, muted filtrations of pure low-end completely muffle proceedings. Just to fuck with you. But also to avail the poor abused 'holes opportunity to approach each successive exercise in abrasive grinding-down with a somewhat freshened- or wtf'd -perspective. This is sorely needed. Where before a sense of forward movement propelled attentions ass-first through high-pressured sphinct-ruptures of full spectrum textural blowout, now a tightly regulated grinding threatens to break the will for good. With each renewed attack, however, renewed expectation of breakthrough. And in the closing minute, in the concentrated scrape of metal abrading metal, in the white-flecked scathe of clambering ascent, in the sheering drive through the granite torso, at last: break-

End.

Deerblood Paleface starts much like the first track, rugged rusty-edged scraps gouging away at a largely impermeable bedrock. This time the bedrock is much heavier in the rumbling low-end, as though perspective were already well sunk into the torso of the mountain. The gougings, too, are a fair measure more aggressive, abrasive frictions practically screeching at the surface, airs temporarily cleared to allow the razor-sharpened definition to gleam in the gloom. At around four minutes the very slightest rumble-pause and then the onslaught: thunderous avalanche of full-scale cacophonous blurrrrrrrrt, what one might in the business call a quintessential FUCK YEAH moment. Mounds upon mounds of Le Shit, piled higher and deeper, dense pressures pushing to crowd out all light, all air, never quite at the expense of the ever-the-more-ferocious iron-clad gouge-action keeping it tight.

Nevertheless, the competition, here, is fierce. At one moment it sounds as though someone has tipped a gargantuan mine cart over, emptying its contents all over some sorry bastards head. At others it sounds like the cart is screeching around snaking corners, coming of the rails, slamming into the crud-walls. And all while that insistent, biting, gouge, repeatedly rips into the fractured, crumbling, overblurt. But all- all of it- utterly buried, smothered, in massed filth-textures of tar-blackened bilge. Chances of anyone making it out alive appear exceedingly slim. But hey, all in a day's work.

At seven minutes or so, the first attempted condensation into militant reductionism, but bristling still along a spine fairly bursting with raw energy. As if to reinforce the point, a brief slatherly slash of fiery scorch rips through the scene, walls immediately closing upon its exit, but sufficient to aggravate the nervous energies defining each opportune moment. Once again more than hint, in the dynamic textural interrogations, of subsurface spastic inclination. The protagonist keeps losing grip of that damn knife whoops! slashing twisted patterns through the weighty crunch-loads er sorry about that, Jack, and no this is definitely not the place for slipshoddedness. Twelve minutes deep and the slashings start to get just that mite tad out of hand, and frankly Jack it's hard to believe this is not as intended. The final decisive slash burns white-hot, sheering dead center with palpably pointed precision, driving in its wake a more robust tangle of competing elements, the attentions reaching that decisive point of no return, simultaneously compelled to dive deep and...to just let Le Shit runneth over, leave the proverbial paleface deer carcasses fall where they may.

A regrouping on the twentieth minute, as protective bubbles of bulging bass compress perspective for a merciful twenty count. Then, ever so engagingly, the bubble dissolves and all hell flushes in, surging currents carrying hordes of iron-tipped particles ripping through wide-open rumble pits, blown-out bludgeoning crunch waves hammering down upon the churning instability. A final, classically minded, break for char-blistered scorchout, reaching for that paleface-whitened flat-line, eyes roll back,

flat-line.



Digest spew:
The Extinctionist comes full circle, as he ought, a culmination or crystallization of the vision to date. There's harsh noise in there, but also a shitload of otherwise, leveraging an ever-expanding material exploration of texture, color, mood. Much in evidence of the increasingly disposed propensity for heavy duty metalwork, the clearly defined hefty boy torsions wrenching clanking stumbling through sedate field recordist pastorals, deep in forested environs, equal parts ripped-to-shit and circumspect in the delicate extrusions of nuanced introspection, masses of blown-out frequency overbilge strangely becalmed, extinguished, laid to rest in the violent twisting stillness of thatched undergrowth. Also noteworthy, the developmental sense of structure, both in the narrative arc of the album and in the elaboration of each individual cut, the subtle build of tensions ever itching to let rip, jittery agitations all but ensuring of nerve-jangling disquiet.

Red Iron Knife cuts deep into the torso of the mountain, delivering DBLesque Metal Induced Orgasms of purest blown-out crunch. There are subtleties galore, constant movement, shift, change. Plenty of opportunity to explore the myriad fissures, fractures, erosions. Strip mine the bilge-inous piles of asphyxiated scrunch and up peak the clear contours of rusted red iron ores. Apply to the volume knob the requisite torque and note in the bouquet of variegated ozones the nuanced textural refinements. But. This shit's overdriven as fuck. Redzoned thundering densities, huge and all-consuming, drive mercilessly brutal saturations of the purest, blackest, filth. Dip, now, below the surface and wallow among the multiform textural interrogations, heaving and hauling with brute, dynamic, pressure. The quintessential FUCK YEAH! moment, drawn out for forty-eight straight minutes of Dead Body LUST.
Someone weaker than you should beat you and brag
And take you for a drag

Zeno Marx

But is it glassy?  I like when Kjostad is glassy.  I like glassy.
"the overindulgent machines were their children"
I only buy vinyl, d00ds.

Soloman Tump

Bloated Slutbag, that is one hell of a review!

Fistfuck Masonanie

#7964
Skin Crime - Stories and Studies of Strange Things (Self Abuse Records)

Skin Crime return with a new c30 of ghastly and supernatural sounds from the void.
Recent releases have been abundant with literary influences in both title and narrative sound.
Author's such as H.P. Lovecraft, Arthur C. Doyle, and now Lafcadio Hearn have adorned Skin Crime's work in one fashion or another.

Hearn's, Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things, is a collection of ghostly folk tales of generally Japanese origin.
The reference provides succinct context for the new works as Skin Crime make their presence known, but don't forcefully interrupt the plane of existence.
An environment of gradually rising anxieties is created throughout each piece:
hairs stand on end, you feel a brush of the shoulder, or you convince yourself that you just imagined it...
Skin Crime have become adept at creating a rich textural sense of panic and uneasiness.

Over the last few years, each release has felt akin to a re-discovered chapter of some long forgotten grimoire.
When played back to back, you may open the secrets to ancient cults or summon long slumbering creatures from rest.