radio free midwich

astral social club’s ach/och and joyful noise

astral social club – ach/och

Comrades: this world can be a painful place.  You don’t need me to tell you this, of course, the evidence that we are neck-deep in greed, wilful stupidity, violence and injustice is overwhelming.  Luckily, we have an art form ideally suited to reflecting this sad truth: noise.  In fact, for those artists drawn to the dark side of the human condition, noise is a compelling tool: instantly alienating, ultimately cathartic, perfect for the job in hand.

However, so snug is the potential match between this medium and this message that noise is sadly underused for other purposes.  Whilst the violent and sexual themes explored by first-wave industrial music and power electronics are now rightly derided as rinsed-out clichés (an editorial point made in the excellent As Loud As Possible magazine), much noise remains an unrelentingly harsh business.  There is humour to be found but it generally falls into one of four not-necessarily-very-funny categories: a) tiresome wackiness, b) irony (ranging from the wryly arched eyebrow to misanthropic sarcasm), c) a worrying by-product of possible mental health issues and d) an unintended campness (see, for example, all power electronics).  So can noise retain its cathartic power yet be unironically uplifting and celebratory and optimistic?  Can it muscle onto pop’s turf and actually be about the good times?

The answer is… yes.  Phew, you were worried there for a second weren’t you?  Well, I can confidently proclaim that not only is it possible but that I’m lucky enough to be mates with the leading exponent.  Neil Campbell, lately of Astral Social Club, has long realised that noise is not just for those in three-quarter length leather coats with pale, mysterious European girlfriends.  This racket can, in fact, create the type of joyful and life-affirming atmosphere you’d expect at a sugar-fuelled five-year old’s birthday party, or on gloriously windswept beach in Northumberland, or in a sweaty, multi-way hug at 4am in a Berlin techno club.

The last full length ASC release I heard was Happy Horse, you know – that one packaged in a yellow duster – and, if anything, it pushed the ecstatic climax a little too hard.  A succession of splintering crescendos gave the joy a teeth-grinding, chemically-induced edge.  This tape tones the metal machine music down a little and instead contains much that is, well, jolly.

The spec is as follows: two tracks, self-released edition of 37 on recycled tapes, packaged in plastic 7″ single sleeve with card ASC logo insert.  Neil tells me that the tapes used were of various lengths and that how much you get of eack track depends on the individual cassette.  I appear to be one of the lucky ones as, as far as I can tell, each side is complete. Each ‘track’ is actually several quite different pieces sewn together.  These range from sketches loosely arranged around a particular sound, riff or effect to some impressively worked out pop noise.  I use the word deliberately – you can imagine an autotuned Rihanna singing over bits of this.  Neil spoils my thesis by including a mournful end but, for the most part, this is pumped up fun.  How radical is that, eh?

Buy direct from Neil here.