rfm attends to recent downloads: cthulhu detonator, deceiver, orange annihilator, seth cooke, petals
March 8, 2013 at 10:41 am | Posted in new music, no audience underground | Leave a commentTags: bells hill, bells hill digital, cthulhu detonator, deceiver, drone, field recording, hairdryer excommunication, impulsive habitat, kev sanders, mp3, new music, no audience underground, noise, orange annihilator, petals, seth cooke
Cthulhu Detonator – Infernal Machines (self-released)
Deceiver – I Will Always Be Dead Inside (Bells Hill Digital)
Orange Annihilator – Scrub (Bells Hill Digital)
Seth Cooke – Intercession (Impulsive Habitat, IHab065)
Kevin Saunders / Petals – various back catalogue items (Hairdryer Excommunication)
My lack of willpower regarding downloads has been extensively documented on this blog before and explains my general attitude of wariness towards this most tempting aspect of modern musical appreciation. Not all music stored on physical objects is good, of course, but to present it as such does indicate a faith in the work and acts as an initial filter to limit an otherwise unprocessable torrent. My preference is to sit with my back to the firmly secured floodgates and listen to them creak as I open my post.
However, what is a boy to do when approached by charming artists touting interesting sounding projects that are only available on that Bandcamp or via netlabels? Or if a known favourites make experiments or long forgotten back catalogue available via the same means? I would hardly be a conscientious editor if I just ignored these leads, now would I? In that spirit there now follows a series of ‘in brief’ accounts of some clickable goodness recently brought to my attention. *Sigh*, one thing no-one dares mention when warning you of a slippery slope is just how much fun it can be to slide down it…
First is Infernal Machines by Cthulhu Detonator. I know what you are thinking: “how dare this impertinent rascal imply that our master, Lord Cthulhu, is the sort of thing that can be detonated?!”, right? Well, I’ve sent this disrespectful heretic an oddly cut purple crystal in an anonymous package and if he looks into it he is fucked. That’ll teach him! Ai, Ai!
Anyway, blasphemy aside, this album is very entertaining. Perhaps, like a lot of debut albums, it is a little over full – RFM recommends keeping it to a tight 40ish minutes and saving the offcuts for an accompanying EP – but who am I to fault exuberance? This is from the computer-constructed/electronica end of noise: ten distinct tracks working through aspects of a coherently defined sound. There is a momentum, a squelching bounce, that is gleefully pummelling interspersed with quieter moments spent exploring cyclopean ruins with faulty batteries in your torch. Nicely balanced and engaging throughout. Ideal background music for an evening spent flicking through your dog-eared copy of Unaussprechlichen Kulten.
Second are two cuts from the recently formed Bells Hill Digital. I Will Always Be Dead Inside by Deceiver is as grim as its title suggests. Part I is a three minute harsh noise blow-out, a planet wide, corrosive hailstorm pitting the black surface of an inhospitable world. Part II is an almighty eleven minute conflagration. About halfway through a mournful tone attempts to rise above the roar – like the one building miraculously left standing in an area otherwise devastated by carpet-bombing – but is soon vandalised, deliberately destroyed by the same spiteful fire. It is utterly without hope and, in my humble opinion, remarkable. Please investigate.
Scrub by Orange Annihilator is so irresistible that I listened to it ten times in a row the other day, non-stop, on my commute to work. No, my bus wasn’t stuck in a snow drift, nor have I been seconded to Aberdeen. The reason this feat was possible is that this five track album is in total three and a half minutes long!
It is electronic noise, best heard at ear-splitting volume for maximum nostril-flaring effect. Plenty happens but this is not a frantic gonzo cut up. Segments are allowed a toehold, are established fleetingly, then tumble into the void and are instantly replaced. Its efficiency and brevity are refreshingly classy.
I think this is a clever example of what imaginative types can do with the Bandcamp model. I’d argue that this really is an album – it is coherent, complete, self contained – but its length makes it very difficult to present physically. A 7” single maybe? Expensive to produce, difficult to distribute. A credit card CD-r? A fiddly format that has never really caught on. Neither of these formats suggest ‘real’ album anyway. However, on Bandcamp its format is just the same as for everybody else. Brilliant.
Next is Intercession by Seth Cooke released on intriguing netlabel Impulsive Habitat. This is one 21 minute track constructed with Seth’s customary attention to detail from sound sources found ‘singing in the wires’ at his place of work. It starts with a frantic chirruping and buzzing – an orchestra of locusts conducted by Steve Reich – before settling into a shifting pattern of hums, ticks, throbs and gentle feedback tones. It suggests the micro-climate of self-storage warehouses, server farms, aluminium tubing, ducts in the crawlspace. In the last five minutes birdsong and traffic can be heard alongside a scything overload in the cables, reminding us of the natural world replicated by the landscaping of the science park outside. I find this intensely absorbing. It has a kind of fractal geometry that pulls the listener into the recording. Despite being as cool as air conditioning and as alienating as fluorescent light I’m sure I can hear a very human yearning behind the machine buzz too. Exemplary.
Finally, I need to mention the archival project ongoing at the hairdryer excommunication Bandcamp page. Kev is making as much of the Kevin Sanders / Petals back catalogue as he can find freely available via this resource. I guarantee that any fruit you pick from this vine will be delicious. The more I hear of Kev’s work, the more I want to hear and there is no higher praise than that.
All this stuff is freely downloadable:
artifacts of the no-audience underground: recent petals
January 21, 2013 at 8:52 am | Posted in new music, no audience underground | Leave a commentTags: andrew perry, armed within movement, drone, hairdryer excommunication, kev sanders, lf records, new music, no audience underground, noise, petals, tapes, we're gonna get fucking drunk tonight boys, wggfdtb
Petals – where textus became textus, and how I operated within (CD-r, WGGFDTB)
PETALS – Aposiopesis (3″ CD-r, LF Records, LF026)
petals – silvered alumnus (C22 cassette, Armed Within Movement, AWM006)
Fresh from his category-winning triumph at the 2012 Zellaby Awards Kev Sanders, recording as Petals, has marched directly into 2013 and thrown down some glorious warez thereby consolidating his position at the top.
How does he do it? What’s the secret to the irresistible Petals ‘vibe’? My latest guess is that it may be something to do with the way it is recorded. Anything recorded ‘clean’ or straight-to-hard-drive is difficult to place. It just exists, in your head, as you are listening to it. However, Kev’s stuff seems to be recorded ‘live’ with a microphone somewhere in the room/space where the noise is happening. This gives it a definite physical location but one which is, ironically, mysterious and unplaceable. I suspect this is why I have reached for the metaphor of cartography so often when talking about his work – he produces maps of invisible coastlines, unreachable foothills. By way of example, here are three releases gracing labels other than his own (the ever-fascinating hairdryer excommunication).
where textus became textus and how I operated within is a single track spanning 40 minutes and thus is one of the lengthier volumes in the Petals cannon. You don’t feel it though – it whistles past – and so persuasive are its arguments that I was entirely distracted from the blizzard I happened to be walking through when I first heard it end to end.
The track begins with a short, steep incline. What follows appears at first to be a plateau but soon reveals its own subtle gradients. All is crescendo here. We battle through an increasingly bosky thicket as unseen wildlife twitters nervously, sensing that we are traipsing in a dangerous direction. Eventually, shockingly, we come to a clearing and are met with the fizzing, crackling clatter of an angry troll testing the electrified fence that is keeping him captive. Kev busies himself with the stuff he had us lug up the hill – it turns out to be some kind of troll monitoring equipment. The monster, now knackered and scorched but amused by our presence, sits down and listens to the amplified findings of the machinery along with the rest of us. Really great.
Available dirt cheap from Andrew Perry’s label We’re Gonna Get Fucking Drunk Tonight Boys and packaged in his functional, effective, black and white text-based graphics.
(…interlude: welcome to ‘jokes about obscure terms from literary analysis’ corner! This week: ‘aposiopesis’. Me: “I say, I say, I say, Kev – what does aposiopesis mean?” Kev: “well, Rob, I could tell you but then I would have to….” He trails off. Silence. We both stare mournfully at the setting sun and think about death. Join us next week for another laff riot! OK, back to the advertised programme…)
Aposiopesis is half the length, filling a 3” CD-r, but seems equal to the above as it is pitched at much higher level of intensity. The track has a bassy, dense, subterranean feel. The rumbling throb is ominous and pleasantly uncomfortable at silly volume. Kev is shining his powerful torch at features of note in a giant underground cavern: here is a rock formation that looks like a rasher of bacon, here is a Palaeolithic painting of a horse, here is his left hand resting lightly on your shoulder, gently steering you away from the suspiciously fresh blood stains on an altar-shaped boulder…
Again this is available for not much from Greg at the (shamefully) new-to-RFM LF Records. Packaged in a very neat full colour sleeve. More to come from LF in future reviews but for now…
Finally for today there is silvered alumnus a C22 tape on the much fancied Armed Within Movement label (see here for previous praise). This was slipped to me, samizdat style, by Kev tucking it into my hot pants as we danced euphorically to Tubeway Army in the Fox and Newt bar.
Side A features an angry buzz augmented by a slow rolling pulse: the former presumably the noise made by units of a hive population as they carry out their pheromonally determined tasks, the latter being the hive mind’s ‘brain’ wave as consciousness appears, an emergent property of the system as a whole. The rest of the track is this new unified presence developing self-awareness and deciding on a plan for the destruction of all life outside the hive. Luckily a family of hungry anteaters are in the area and we are saved. Side B features the kind of alarums! that might accompany the Id monster from Forbidden Planet escaping out into a stormy night on Altair IV. The rain crackles as it strikes the invisible creature, tracing its outline in steam. Also great.
This tape can be had for inconsequential loose change and is packaged in a standard cassette box with a stylish and pleasantly minimal black and white J-card.
artifacts of the no-audience underground: daniel thomas & kevin sanders – transit timing observations from kepler
September 20, 2012 at 10:35 am | Posted in new music, no audience underground | Leave a commentTags: daniel thomas, drone, hagman, hairdryer excommunication, kev sanders, new music, no audience underground, noise, petals, sheepscar light industrial
Daniel Thomas & Kevin Sanders – Transit timing observations from Kepler
(CD-r in mini DVD case, hairdryer excommunication, edition of 50)
Daniel Thomas (Hagman, Sheepscar Light Industrial) and Kev Sanders (Petals, hairdryer excommunication) have collaborated on two lengthy drone/noise pieces, presented to us as the album above. News to brighten the darkest morning, I’m sure you’ll agree. I was swooning at the prospect of these pin-ups of the no-audience underground going at it and the resultant offspring is predictably angelic. I’m told its gestation was as speedy and ferocious as a wriggly, tentacled thing from Prometheus – testament to the alien virility of its parents. The two tracks are simple, deep and an intriguing mixture of the natural and the artificial, like a lake created by flooding a quarry.
‘Greenhead, dark’ is a rising, rolling, roar. A creature of mist and smoke, smothering its surroundings only to be burnt off by the gentlest glow of dawn. A field recording of birds twittering cuts through the oily drones like lemon juice cleans greasy fingers. ‘For Lincoln Green’ starts with a lovely recording of a monstrous rain storm drenching the beautiful garden city of Leeds. A heavy, pushing throb is then introduced which remains pretty solid state through the majority of the piece. Eventually this lightens into an ecstatic, crackling, hair-clipper fuzz and escapes samsara altogether with a satisfyingly cinematic fade out.
There are (at least) two ways to listen to this. One is to let the dominant roars and throbs act as a welcome ego suppressant, the other is to concentrate, brow furrowed. The rewards of the former are the mental equivalent of a hot bath, the latter is the approach for industrial archaeologists. Taking a trowel and brush to this reveals rusted gears with glinting diamond teeth, motionless but still suggesting strange grinding epicycles.
There was going to be another paragraph in which I revisit the metaphor of cartography with relation to Kev’s (and now Dan’s) working methods but, listening to these elegant tracks again, that level of clever-cleverness seems, well, unnecessary. Some other time…
This album is wonderful. Available for the can’t argue, bargain price of £3 all in for UK punters (a little more for exotic international types – ask Kev and he’ll sort you out). Buy here.
wired for sound part 27: tapenoise, mothers of the third reich, petals
August 13, 2012 at 7:06 pm | Posted in new music, no audience underground | Leave a commentTags: dex wright, drone, hairdryer excommunication, improv, jase williams, kev sanders, mothers of the third reich, mottr, new music, no audience underground, noise, petals, tapenoise, tapes
Tapenoise – Cobblers (self-released, approx C10 cassette, hand decorated packaging)
Mothers of the Third Reich (self-released cassette, no details provided)
petals – preconcerted (hairdryer excommunication, approx C25 cassette, appropriated packaging with decoration and found objects)
Here’s a collection of objects all exhibiting the quality of true tapeness. Each, in its own way, revels in the physicality of the cassette as a format and employs a level of hand-assembled craft that respects the lo-fi, high-tech magicality of the medium (it’s all done with magnetism?!). Much appealing oddness, no download codes included.
Firstly we have Cobblers by Tape Noise. I’d not heard from Dex Wright for a while and was wondering what he was up to when this arrived as a housewarming present. This cassette case has been opened (I’m guessing) and the tape clipped and rehoused at a length of about five minutes per side. The case and inlay card have then been decorated with metallic ink pens and felt tips in the usual ebullient Tape Noise manner creating a literally unique object.
One side starts with the muffled popping of late 70s/early 80s industro-style drum machine which is soon replaced with a more emphatic bashing over which a wild synth solo dances until the end of its brief running time. On the other side similar electronics act as a backing track for a daft, improvised (I’m guessing again) song sung by Dex about his despair at how things aren’t built to last anymore. Hence the title: ‘cobblers’ as in everything is crap, but it also refers to his literal need to find someone who can fix his leaky boots.
There’s a nostalgia to Dex’s outlook but no luddism. He is into the idea of recycling technology considered obsolete and appalled at the waste of our throwaway culture. His work is created generally in editions of one (or more or less one), sometimes given away, sometimes auctioned to collectors of the odd on eBay. Visit the Tape Noise website for details.
Next is the golden tape by Mothers of the Third Reich. I only know it is by them because it was given to me by the band at the gig in Stoke where we shared a bill, the object itself is completely anonymous. The cassette and inlay are sprayed gold and contain no information, no text at all. I only recognise the ‘T’-with-four-bars logo as theirs too because I was given a patch (more patches in noise!) featuring the same thing at the same time. I suppose I could look it all up on the internet but where is the fun in that? It’s cool to add a mysterious layer of intrigue…
The music is a skronking mixture of jazz noise and free rock. Gargling electronics do battle with a sometimes rolling, sometimes skittering drum kit whilst throaty, gravelly honks are forced from a saxophone and/or the guitar kicks over tables. This isn’t super-saturated bombast though; there is plenty of shading and room to gulp air in-between molestations. Ace.
I don’t know where to get hold of this but these cats are on facebook so I guess you could head in that direction. I see a second tape is available on Bandcamp too – download is free and you are encouraged to dupe it to a C60.
Finally there is an extraordinary object from Kev Sanders. preconcerted is by Kev’s main musical concern petals and is released via his own omnicorp hairdryer excommunication. It comes as a one-track-per-side C25ish cassette and my copy is housed in a roughly chopped half of the packaging that once contained some kind of tape-and-booklet set about interview technique. Remaining stamps, stickers and classmarks suggest this was appropriated from the University of Huddersfield library which I think is Kev’s place of employment. The original cover is obscured with a black and white photo of masonry detail and the half-a-booklet remaining inside shares its pouch with two unrelated photographic slides.
The music is from the noisier end of Kev’s output. ‘A’ is a glorious drone as viscous, gritty and as tempting to poke with a stick as tar on a beach. It roars, gutters into noise, rises, then loses the fight again. Terrific. ‘B’ is a right racket of stuttering, fizzing and warbling with some proper finger-on-the-spindle messing with the space-time continuum. Also terrific. The answer to the question ‘petals?’, is ‘yes, as much as can be spared please.’
Object fetishists can contact Kev via hairdryer excommunication here, impurists and latecomers can download the sound via Bandcamp.
rfm attends to recent downloads: petals, hagman, clough
July 29, 2012 at 5:02 pm | Posted in new music, no audience underground | 3 CommentsTags: ap martlet, bandcamp, daniel thomas, dave thomas, downloads, drone, electronica, hagman, improv, kev sanders, michael clough, mp3, new music, no audience underground, noise, petals, soundcloud
Although I have written about such things before, I tend to avoid comment on downloads, especially those to be found on Soundcloud or Bandcamp. I fear, I suppose, opening a floodgate and being swamped by the sloshing enormity of unmediated reality.
For instance: a friend recently tipped me off to a band they thought I would dig and included a link in their email. I downloaded the file it pointed to and liked it very much. A quick nose about the internet revealed many of trustworthy opinion are keen on this crew too. Their back catalogue beckoned seductively. Reason to rejoice? Time to crank up the metaphor engine and get posting, eh? Well, no. On visiting the band’s own website I found stacks of files named only for their dates of composition – many, many hours worth – and if there is one thing guaranteed to shrivel my organs of musical appreciation it is the prospect of vast quantities of undifferentiated stuff. Ugh.
(As an aside: everyone is going crazy for the Lost Tapes box set by Can, and rightly so. The question I have heard several times, always accompanied by an amazed shake of the head, is ‘why didn’t they think this stuff was worthy of release first time around?’ This illustrates the times we are living in. Ah, for the days when an album had to be vinyl-sized and thus quality control had to be exercised. To my undisciplined brethren I say: cut it to 40 minutes and, if people are still interested 40 years later, it might be worth digging up the outtakes then…).
Now, we all know from bitter experience that being presented on a physical object is no guarantee of musical quality. However, it does indicate that someone had some faith in the work, enough at least to make the extra effort required to birth a thing. If a jiffy bag arrives on my doormat its contents generally imply a level of filtering, distillation, care and perhaps even pride that ensures I treat it with respect and accord it a fair hearing. I can’t help but feel that a download doesn’t deserve the same attention.
Is this position defensible in these post-everything, internet-enabled times? Probably not: you are reading this on a blog that contains almost my entire back catalogue available for download just one click from here. I also have recent releases available to buy and download via Bandcamp myself (see below). But, even leaving my hypocrisy to one side, you have to admit I’m at least part right. Our time available for music has not increased in step with our exponentially increasing access to music. You have to discriminate. Thus the answer to the question ‘how much attention does a download deserve?’ is: maybe some. How much depends on the context: who made it, who recommended it, where it originates and so on.
So… Bearing all that in mind, and acknowledging that your ears are busy organs, I am now going to recommend several hours worth of stuff all of which is available via Soundcloud or Bandcamp and, further, I’m going to insist that it is some of the best stuff I have heard all year. Do not worry that your personal bandwidth will be wasted following these links. The recommendations of Radio Free Midwich are entirely trustworthy.
First up: Hagman, the duo of Dave Thomas and Daniel Thomas (no relation). I wrote the following description as a gig blurb for Dan but it didn’t get used, presumably due to its ponciness. Still, this is my blog and I can do what I like so check this out:
Hagman present a hard-won equilibrium teetering between power line hum and the rhythmic clatter of early 80s electro-industrial. As sinuously alien as a millipede clambering over tree bark, yet as warm as a cat asleep on your chest.
Cool, eh? Soundcloud contains documents of their recent live appearances and I highly recommend you check them out. I’m particularly fond of the two versions of Primer (one live, one ‘studio’) as it kicks off from the soliloquy that opens the film of the same name, which is a favourite of mine.
The solo stuff by these two chaps is pretty special too. Dave records as Ap Martlet and his recent track Jacquetta Hawkes is very lovely indeed. The fuzz is elegantly balanced and as mournfully life-affirming as Ivor Cutler’s harmonium. The almost-a-melody gives it a misty narrative but isn’t too prescriptive. As befits a named track – it has personality.
Dan is no slouch either. Theme for Freedom is a fuzz-drone homage to the no-audience groove championed by this blog. It’s rise and fall as dizzying as the first gulp of fresh air the morning after a very late night. Even better is the themed pair Hyperbolic/Litotic. Delicate, balanced but with unbelievable core strength, like an accomplished martial artist hosting a tea ceremony. I am envious. Oh and Twitch is a terrific exercise in sustained menace too.
Now onto old friend Michael Clough, whose atem_tanz is a gloriously super-minimal analogue throb. When listened to at the appropriate volume, that is: so loud as to be consciousness threatening, it sounds like the sewing machine that God used when she was stitching up creation. Fucking amazing. STOP PRESS: this track has been taken down from Soundcloud as it has been slated for ‘proper’ release on Sheepscar Light Industrial. More news as it breaks!
…and finally may I recommend the recorded output of Kev Sanders, best known round these parts as Petals. Praised here before, this chap’s work can be found in clearly defined, manageable segments via Bandcamp and the ever-entertaining hairdryer excommunication blog. No will-sapping giganticism here, nor should you be fooled by the lo-fi aesthetic. This is carefully, thoughtfully constructed stuff, varied in style but all obviously expressing aspects of the same vision. Kev is a cartographer, quietly mapping a world which looks just like our own but which on closer examination reveals some unexpected twists in the path…
artifacts of the no-audience underground: ‘masked out’ by petals on striate cortex
April 2, 2012 at 6:56 pm | Posted in new music, no audience underground | Leave a commentTags: drone, hairdryer excommunication, kev sanders, new music, no audience underground, noise, petals, striate cortex
PETALS – Masked Out (3″ CD-r, edition of 50, Striate Cortex S.C.40.)
It’s a long scroll down to this text isn’t it? Well, no apologies for the girth of the illustrations because this is another remarkable release from Andy Robinson’s Striate Cortex. This time we have a 3″ CD-r and printed insert housed in an elaborate four-way, fold-out card holder, each ‘petal’ individually hand painted. This is mounted on a hand-painted black background the reverse of which forms the outer cover of the release. This side is wrapped in hand-made paper embedded, appropriately enough, with plant matter – grasses, tiny flowers, stamen. In a back catalogue rife with gobsmacking packages this is one of the finest.
Petals (or PETALS or petals) is the project of Huddersfield based Kev Sanders and is fast becoming a favourite round these parts. His drones and noise pieces are constructed with intelligence, wit and with a finely tuned sense of balance. Simmering anger, contemplative beauty – it can be as languid as a cat having its stomach rubbed, it can draw blood as fast as the same cat should your stomach-rubbing technique prove lacking. Lovely chap too.
‘Masked Out’ is roar from the off. Waves crash against a terminal beach. The surf – thick with brown foam like a perverse expanse of cocoa-powdered cappuccino froth – pulls the pebbles to and fro, slowly pulverising shell fragments with a crackling, rhythmic hiss. This is a perfect soundtrack to the penultimate section of The Time Machine by H.G. Wells. The hero has flung himself into the unimaginably far future and witnesses what might literally be the end of life on the Earth:
The darkness grew apace; a cold wind began to blow in freshening gusts from the east, and the showering white flakes in the air increased in number. From the edge of the sea came a ripple and whisper … At last, one by one, swiftly, one after the other, the white peaks of the distant hills vanished into blackness. The breeze rose to a moaning wind. I saw the black central shadow of the eclipse sweeping towards me. In another moment the pale stars alone were visible. All else was rayless obscurity. The sky was absolutely black.
A horror of this great darkness came on me. The cold, that smote to my marrow, and the pain I felt in breathing, overcame me. I shivered, and a deadly nausea seized me. Then like a red-hot bow in the sky appeared the edge of the sun … As I stood sick and confused I saw again the moving thing upon the shoal – there was no mistake now that it was a moving thing – against the red water of the sea. It was a round thing, the size of a football perhaps, or, it may be, bigger, and tentacles trailed down from it; it seemed black against the weltering blood-red water, and it was hopping fitfully about. Then I felt I was fainting…
(Extracted from the end of Section XI, full text can be found via Project Gutenberg here.)
…at the fifteen minute mark we even have some ukelele picking which could be the forlorn scrabbling of this final creature. Am I being pretentious calling on a great classic to illuminate 20 minutes of racket? Well, maybe – but it is genuinely what it brought to mind. Why not buy here for a mere £3 plus postage – and find out for yourself.
Also worthy of note from petals are lowest ever low a brief lament on a one of those tiny credit card CD-rs and collaboration by swan-hunter & petals which is two lengthy noise pieces of the balls-out variety on a CD-r in a sort of CD sized DVD case. This also contains the intriguing insert featuring the mysterious owl creatures pictured below. Contact Kev via hairdryer excommunication to ascertain availability.
pete cann’s noise+punk alldayer, wharf chambers, leeds, 24-03-2012
March 26, 2012 at 7:52 pm | Posted in live music, new music, no audience underground | 5 CommentsTags: andy jarvis, dogliveroil, drone, duncan harrison, electronica, etai keshiki, foldhead, hobo sonn, idwal fisher, joincey, kev sanders, kieron piercy, live music, mark wharton, mel delaney, melanie o'dubhslaine, new music, no audience underground, noise, ocelocelot, panelak, paul walsh, petals, pete cann, phil todd, plurals, target shoppers, wharf chambers
In belated celebration of his 20th birthday, Leeds noisester Pete Cann organized a day long carnival of punk and racket which took place last Saturday. What vigour these young ‘uns have, eh? I thought it would be convivial to wheel myself down there and suck up some of their lifeforce. And so it proved.
It was originally booked to happen in The Fenton, a notorious shithole, but they got cold feet (apparently those guys are only interested in ‘proper’ music nowadays – don’t they realise what heavy drinkers the noise scene are?) and cancelled. Pete was undeterred and, much to everyone’s relief, the gig was moved to the lovely Wharf Chambers which is run by hep-cats as a co-op and is therefore much more open minded.
I took a camera with me so instead of my usual arch wordiness there now follows some briefly annotated photo-journalism. Apologies for the hard-lit pictures – my camera is only a little snappy one and it insisted on the harshest flash possible. You’ll have to imagine the cool lighting and flashing LEDS. I didn’t correct the red-eyes though because everyone really did have red eyes…
I arrived at about 3.15pm and the first act, Aimmar Cair, was already playing. Alas, I heard nowt of his set as I was too busy chatting with Paul Walsh (foldhead), Mark Wharton (Idwal Fisher) and Andy Jarvis (Asymptotem) who was there to be part of Dogliveroil. Andy is organising the next midwich gig (glamorous Stoke-on-Trent, June 9th – watch this space) and it was a treat to see him face-to-face for the first time in years. Kieron Piercy (Spoils & Relics) was also an early arrival and handed me a few tapes to slip into my hand-tooled, Italian leather man-bag. Our conversation was briefly interrupted by a lad puking in the doorway between bar-room and venue-room. We couldn’t decide whether this showed a pitiful lack of pacing skills or an admirable dedication to making a day of it. Probably both. Anyway, the vom was cleared up and I took a look at the running order:
I was sceptical, but this was adhered to, pretty much. Foldhead swapped with Etai due to the latter arriving late and Heroin Diet swapped with Dogliveroil at 9pm but otherwise all was as planned. When I left 7 hours later the whole thing was only running 15 minutes late. But I get ahead of myself. Paul was on first:
With his strobe-activated squiggling and weevil-bashing crunchiness he was thought to have raised the bar pretty high, pretty early. Check out these guys vibing on his technique and taking mental notes:
Etai Keshiki arrived during Paul’s set and followed with a bunch of high-octane marvellous. I heart them so much. Andy Jarvis and his charming friend Mike were similarly wowed and we dissected their greatness in the bar whilst waiting for Ocelocelot.
During Etai, Mel had been out buying baking soda so we were agog at what was going to occur. Unfortunately, that part of her ‘kit’ – a bottle containing pop and baking soda contact-miked (‘miced’?) to amplify the fizz – didn’t work so well but the rest of her stuff – balloons, wind-up toys etc. – made a joyous din and playfully subverted the tabletop-electronics of the other acts.
In between Ocelocelot and Petals, Paul and I nipped out for chips. You could tell it was a good chippy because the lass behind the counter called us ‘love’ and ‘darling’ about ten times whilst taking our order. We were back in time to see none of Kev’s set-up work properly. We didn’t know that until after his set, of course. At the time it sounded great and we all enjoyed the bit at the end when he leapt up, took his knackered cymbal and length of bent metal and strode defiantly around the venue bashing the former with the latter.
I was flagging a bit during Hobo Sonn – post-chips lethargy, I think – so I sat back and let it wash over me. This was well timed as it was one of the least abrasive of the table-top noise performances, almost electronica in places, and soulfully resonant. I stared at the back of Ian’s head, wondered if the back of my own head looked like that, then got stuck in a very pleasant feedback loop until the applause at the end of his set brought me back.
Target Shoppers were fucking ace. First gig in over a decade, and easily as much fun as this looks:
…then they were joined by Mel (also in bald wig/mask/condom thing) for a completely balls-out finale that was actually the loudest noise of the day so far. Great guitar face from Phil there!
Duncan Harrison, known to me as a member of RFM-faves Plurals, performed a very entertaining solo set of cassette racket and gurglecore. He’s a charismatic guy with great comic timing and had the crowd grinning and laughing and grooving on a deceptively lo-fi din. A standard lamp appeared at the side of his table too which gave it a magic show/séance feel. I praised his showmanship when talking to him later and, interestingly, he admitted it was something he was tempted to hide behind because he lacked the confidence in his sound to just sit there and let the noise do it all. I think it would be a shame if he did.
Next up was due to be Seth Cooke but he was rinsed out after a twelve hour performance in an art gallery in Bradford the previous day. It was one of those high concept, ultra-long things that Bang the Bore likes to cook up. See here for details – it’s about car parks, apparently. So instead we had Pascal Ansell (Panelak) and event organiser Pete Cann (Half an Abortion) taking up the slack. Confidence was not an issue here as, for reasons known only to themselves, the boys stripped to their boxer shorts for a bit of man-to-man weevil-bashing. I only took one photo – partly because the flash was very unforgiving of partial nudity, partly because I feared being put on some kind of register. Paul described it – unforgettably – as twinktronics.
Us oldsters were taken back to the good ol’ days of noise when you couldn’t go to an all-dayer of this sort without some cocks-out action…
I apologise to Heroin Diet, who were on next, as I spent their entire set outside recovering from the hot-flush provoked by boy flesh. I chatted to Kieron about the health of the scene and hating The Wire magazine – a sentiment I wholeheartedly agree with. I spoke to Ian (Murphy, Hobo Sonn) and Duncan at some length about Brighton, physicality in noise (versus laptops) and growing up down South. Duncan was very gracious when I mistakenly attributed an album to him that he had nothing to do with (I later remembered it was by Eyeballs – It had been a long afternoon/evening). I should also mention that I spent a lot of the day talking with Kev Sanders (Petals) – a charming and witty guy who is disarmingly enthusiastic and wears his obvious erudition and seriousness very lightly. A gentleman.
And here we come to the way my evening finishes: Dogliveroil. The joke during the day was that you were presumed to be in Dogliveroil unless you had opted out, but in the end it was a mere seven people that made up the band, arranged to surround the audience on three sides. Amusingly, it was Joincey’s role to sit on the stage in the middle of this maelstrom and look as bored as possible. He picked at a cuticle, he stared at his foot. It was riveting. The whole business was topped off by a guest appearance from Simon Morris (Ceramic Hobs) who’d come over for the day and was happy to add a little high-security-wing karaoke (a reel on the theme of Stupid Hoe by Nicki Minaj).
Apologies to Sump and Cementimental who were still to play but that was enough for me. I left on a high and trotted out to my bus back to the leafy suburbs. I hope everything ended well – I’ve heard no stories of police raids since – and thanks again to Pete for organizing such a consistently fun event. Happy Birthday, man.
P.S. If I haven’t linked your name and you’d like me to then send me a URL. If I have but you’d prefer I use a different URL then just let me know and I’ll update matters.
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