wired for sound part 30: etai keshiki and castrato attack group

November 4, 2012 at 1:36 pm | Posted in new music, no audience underground | Leave a comment
Tags: castrato attack group, etai keshiki, hypnowave, improv, kieron piercy, luke vollar, memoirs of an aesthete, new music, noise, phil todd, punk, tapes

castratoattackgroupetaikeshiki

(split tape, C40, co-release: hypnowave 002/memoirs of an aesthete MOA K7 001)

The sharp tang of ferric oxide scents the air here in Midwich Mansions: at least two thirds of the teetering review pile is made up of cassette tapes.  I guess it is time to change the batteries in my walkman, clip it to my polyester short shorts, strap on my roller blades and catch up a bit whilst skating under the palm trees, wired for sound.  First up, as I pull on my fingerless gloves and head for the beach, is the awesome split tape by Etai Keshiki and Castrato Attack Group co-released by Etai’s own hypnowave and Phil Todd’s Memoirs of an Aesthete.

Ahh…, Etai Keshiki – how do I heart thee?  Let me count the ways.  The adrenal rush of these punk vignettes (five of the seven tracks clock in at less than two minutes each) is as focussed as toothache and as effective as a blow-dart to the neck.  They clarify the mind as shockingly as nearly being run over by a bus.  Kayleigh and Daria’s vocal technique is akin to what you might hear from a car that has left a jetty and is about to plunge into a lake, the music accompanying these screams is played with a loose-limbed fury.  Lyrics are reproduced cut-up style on the inlay card and document the struggle to survive intact in a world that is intolerant, ignorant and violent.  To an oldster like me the vibe calls to mind Flux of Pink Indians or Nation of Ulysses.  High praise.

The Castrato Attack Group side is just as good.  No songs this time, no lyrics, no message, just one epic, psychedelic jam.  It is a life-affirming, nostrils flaring, magnificent wig-out that demands multiple rewinds.  There are no lulls, no tricksy passages of noodling, no lumpy transitions.  This is, ironically given the name of the band, completely balls out from beginning to end.  In fact this track is bollock naked, standing in your bedroom, arms folded over its chest (cut like a freakin’ steak, of course), shit-eating grin on its face.  I realise that this description might sit a little uneasily with the militant sexual politics of Etai but this is not swaggering, jock machismo.  There is nothing unkind about this music – it just exudes fun and confidence.  Frankly, when a track has a cock like a roll of carpet it is hard not to stare…

Now the tricky part – getting hold of it.  A quick skim of the internet reveals that there isn’t an obvious ‘buy here’ link to offer you.  A page somewhere suggests it is sold out, a comment somewhere suggests that it is being reissued on CD-r etc.  The Etai side can be downloaded for a donation via their Bandcamp site but nowt similar seems to be available for the Castrato side.  I suspect you should try the hypnowave and Memoirs… links above first but be prepared to do a little legwork.  It’s worth it.