Reading up on this on Bandcamp, this is the 7” released in 1998. (It has subsequently been re-released as both a CD and a 10”.) It is considered a bridge between early abstract electronic explorations, like “Instrument”, and later guitar-based works, like “Endless Summer”. (Both of these 12”s are in the KFJC library, among others.) Indeed, the compositions are comprised of a blend of electronics and minimally processed guitar sounds. These two tracks had origins as covers, but you’ll be hard-pressed to hear anything remotely reminiscent of the Rolling Stones or Beach Boys in this material. Minimal, languid, and not even particularly long (3:31 and 4:05), these tracks demand the listener invest their full attention if they are to yield the intended experience.
Unholy Black-Noise. Shrill tortured screeching, rasping electronic noise, buried guitars trem-picked mercilessly, and conspicuously absent drums on all three seven inches. Having one hoof deeply buried in the Black Metal trench and the other hovering over the nexus between noise and drone you may find the hairs on your neck bristling with anxiety at the peals of harsh white noise or perhaps, as I was after repeated listens, you’ll be lulled into a kind of uneasy tranquility like a dire wolf sinking into one of the tar pits at La Brea. After thrashing and struggling against your eventual demise, your throat so coated in viscous black sludge that you can no longer gnash your wolf teeth or cry your wolf death-song. There is only your ending. Only surrender and defeat and a kind of solace in the certainty of your wretched wolf fate. Cerebral, conceptual, and cvlt, Oakland’s Sutexh.Hexen. has tapped into something and these fledgling efforts seem to set a precedent for the horrible majesty that awaits them. These tracks were originally released on three cassettes in 2010 and this re-release appear to be, if just, on the wrong side of bootleg status as they appear to have been authorized by a single defunct member of S.H. Excellent sounds in lack-luster packaging but the tapes are so rare and sought after this will sate the ardent blackened-harsh noise completists.
Hideously ugly, driving rock outta Queens that seems to revel in mental illness and the hopelessness of being young and damaged with little hope for the future. Noisy, fierce, and unrelenting these young men are thematically drawn to suicide, the morass of modern adolescence, self-harm, and psychiatric evaluation.
Lo-fi, feedback, sickening drum abuse, over-driven bass, samples and shredded vocal-chords. A soothing panacea for the deeply depraved inner child kept locked away in many a “well-adjusted” college-radio disc jockey.
Split 7″ of Belgian (Agathocles) and Canadian (Existench) grindcore. There’s no time like the present to spray it, not say it. The Agathocles side is a simply filthy recording. The guitar has a weirdly hollow sound. The vocalist has a sort of “normal dude” style, akin to shouting “hey, move your car, dickhead!” So it’s raw and immediate and all those good things true grindcore should be. Existench bring a full-on chainsaw guitar sound with borderline comical put-the-microphone-in-the-back-of-your-throat vocal sound, but it works, once they lock in and get established. Longest track: 1:37; shortest 0:11. FCCs on Existench tracks 5 and 6; the latter is a clip of Trump talking about making America great (hate) again, followed by FUCK YOU! That’s the 11 second track. Less is more.
Pretty straight-up hardcore, a little bit emo-y, but not annoying. Comes right out of the gate with some super tight riffs. Two vocalists harmonize on the first track and the effect is a little weird, but not in a bad way. These are fast, high-energy tracks. “Boner of a Lonely Fart” is more melodic and poppy (pop-ish) and has some nice melodic chords, plus it takes its time, clocking in at 2:49. All five tracks are pretty fun, but…
only track 1 is FCC-free.
Early 1980s Anarchistic punk from New Zealand with spoken / shouted lyrics, driving rhythmic guitar & percussion.
Original members Roger Allen and Lindsay McKay formed in 1983 with Tim Ord, and Sam Swann joining shortly thereafter. In 1985 they added Blaise Oarsman and Dave Appleton on guitar FOG? Eventually became ?FOG City Enterprises, an art collective operating “Red House” which became a hub for underground music and art in Auckland. The national arts council of NZ helped fund the release of the original 7” (re-released here on Bunkerpop), they disbanded in 1988, and it is unclear if they ever officially released any other music as a band.
Mamarracho are Shobu and Fuyuhiko Saitoh, two Japanese brothers and both former members of The Gerogerigegege. According to the liner notes, Shobu is the “young captain with false sportsmanship”, while Fuku is the “eternal bench warmer”.
“Fifty-Nine” is a banana-yellow baseball-themed 7″ with four aggressive tracks. A joint release on Destroy All Music and Betley Welcomes Careful Drivers.
Hunt The Sluggers (A-1) and Camping For Victory (B-1) are face-smashing thrashy grindcore. Big walls of distortion, squealing feedback, and real drums! Both have vocals (of sorts), although they are completely unintelligible, and in the case of Camping, sound like the microphone was swallowed before recording.
Next Generation Of H.H.S. (B-2) is traditional Japanese power electronics. Quasar blasts, machine gun static, electro-squiggles, and radio tuners. For me, Deformed Uniform (A-2) is the stand-out track. A hypnotic bass line with K-hole beats and an electronic edge. Slow and sludgy.
A pretty cool time capsule here of mid-nineties math rock, reminiscent of Drive Like Jehu and Roadside Monument, though maybe a little more angular and weird. The recording is characterized by a lo-fi four-track-style quality. The vocals sound normal at 45rpm, but the instruments sound sped up during side A (“Attn: Span”) and the first part of side B (“Least”). Side B mellows out midway through before building intensity. It’s too bad about the F-bomb on this second track, as it has some nice dynamic shifts.
Track one is comprised of some basic beat machine grooves with stream-of-consciousness hip hop lyrics. Primitive 8-bit electronics round out the mix. We have a couple records by the artist, Subtitle, in the Hip Hop library. Next, John Wiese drops in with with a corrupted dissolution of sound, all jagged edges and jarring transitions. This artist should be well-known to some KFJC DJs at this point. On side B, Adlib provides abstract noise washes with a drum & bass element that staggers in and out of the composition. The end result makes for a fairly compelling track. The Cherry Point closes out the 7″ with a thick mass of machine noise reminiscent of an idling HVAC system in a parking garage. 1982 forever, indeed, but this track only lasts for a minute and a half.
The Releasing Eskimo was a Swedish noise label active out of Gothenburg from ’94-’98, specializing in low-budget releases. This triple-7” compilation from the label’s final year is an excellent sampler of the three most esteemed noise/industrial scenes: the USA, Europe, and Japan.
Disc I: The Europe Disc
Side A: Manchester, UK’s The Grey Wolves, a manifestation of the cultural terror network. This anti-establishment, left-wing duo whipped the hypocritical punks into a fine froth for more than a decade by pretending to be hardcore fascists. A foundational group in death industrial and one of the greatest industrial noise projects of all time. Their track is bleak and 2-dimensional, a maximum confrontation with the experience of death by sarin gas (for real, not like those falsified attacks in Syria). “The Future Belongs To Those Of Us Still Willing To Get Our Hands Dirty.”
Side B: Gothenburg’s own No Festival of Light. Satanist death industrial from the man who also brought you Demogorgon and P/D(B). One of the great unsung talents of Swedish industrial noise constructionism. His track is a maddening dialogue loop picking up atmospheric toilet static over time in a resonant crypt through some kind of effect. All together now, kids: *who* will control the entire world?
Disc II: The USA Disc
Side A: Macronympha. Pittsburgh, PA harsh noise innovators and annihilators. Perhaps more rhythmic than their usual fare. Many layers of pulsing bursts of migraine pain tones interspersed with glitchy stammering.
Side B: Hands To. Who is this? I suppose it’s Jeph Jerman, based these days in Tucson, AZ. Anyway this is the least interesting track on the compilation, slipping immediately out of one’s memory as soon as it ends. Low key petri dish bubbling; and yet I feel there may be a genius touch here that I am simply missing.
Disc III: The Japan Disc
Side A: Merzbow. The Tokyo harsh noise master should require no introduction. High pitched as fuck at the start, wheeking into synth/effect textures. He never disappoints with the range of sounds he is capable of producing with his e.b.t.-kitchen-sink approach.
Side B: C.C.C.C., AKA Cosmic Coincidence Control Center, from Yokohama. This was the duo of Hiroshi Hasegawa and his now ex-wife, former bondage porn star Mayuko Hino; perhaps assisted by others. The group is still active nowadays, roster different with the exception of Hasegawa. Divorce hurts noise projects. This vintage gold is solid, wall-thick cosmic power drone that will blow your grandmother right out the fucking window, you stupid idiot.
Comes packaged in a plastic bag with individual sleeves for each 7”. They look like Hitler Youth on the cover but I think they might actually just be Boy Scouts. Go figure.
SFBA hardcore/thrashcore punk. These Bastards employ an old-school method of observing our current situation, at ground-zero of big-tech capitalism, and delivering a short-blast fuck-you—speaking of which, the FCCs abound. But find a way to spin this regardless. The production finds the right balance of clean separation in the instruments and raw vitality. The band fires on all cylinders, pummeling along, even hooking in the occasional shrieking guitar solo. Most tracks are 40 to 60 seconds long, and one outlier clocks in at ~120 seconds, so cueing will require some dexterity.
On this 2014 EP, their sole release, the Industrial Noize duo are trying to act like they don’t smoke pot– but we all know that they do. Side A has decaying monks like you might find in the ossuaries of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini in Rome, not far from the Via Veneto, where ‘La Dolce Vita’ was filmed all those years ago: monks trying to sing hymns as their throats crumble to dust. Seriously a lot of monks: hardcore Industrial fans already knew what I was talking about. OK it might just be A2 but it feels like both tracks. Side B is definitely more acoustic and less ‘ugh, I put my hand in something foul’; also, fewer (no?) monks: The Death Industrial Kraf-Twerk machine beat shows no sign of tiring its slow and dreadful progress as tortured sound sources are pushed to a climax. Mastered by Kris Lapke of Alberich and Furisubi. Plays at 33.
Just in time for the holydaze, here is the 2017 Christless single from Sweden’s masters of hopeless, gothic Martial Industrial. Bring it back again for this year’s meretricious airwave revelries. Hit the killswitch and be better than human as you learn to fail with members of Cold Meat Industry superstars Arcana, who bring you two hammering battlefield ballads of holiday blues resignation and distinctly Scandinavian moroseness. This material is more song-based than some of their earlier work, and perhaps even more so than the lyrically-driven compositions on 2016’s devastating ‘Unclean’ album. Peter Bjargo, the head Sophian, is also married to Arcana/Sophia siren Cecilia Bjargo. Continuing the 50s theme, hear Him on side A and Her on side B, both in full bah-humbug mode. More of an elegant Martial Pop sound on side A that gets into Allerseelen territory. Side B is the lurching, too-drunk-at-the-Christmas-party spiteful (Lina?) Barbie doll. Both sides are genius because this band can do no wrong. Plays at 45.
Another salvation seven inch, 2012 split on purty
powder blue vinyl. The Gospel Claws hail from some happy
suburb of Tempe AZ, bursting with dancey 80’s mod pop,
and a drop of holy water-cum-wine from the CCD classes
where they hatched plans for catchy hooks during catechism?
Singer Joel Marquard sings of ambition and with a hint of
British accent (a fine American pop tradition).
On the flipside, a one man band rises from Phoenix.
Owen Evans deserts his Andrew Jackson Jihad for a chance
to Roar (or is it ROAR?). Anyways, a slower paced start,
with mournful synth…that works its way through the
trees and a hazy “Dream” field to a few rays of joy. This
feels like a song that Brian Wilson’s psychiatrist was
trying to medicate and eradicate. Why? Rainy day pop is
not mental illness, certainly not in Phoenix, nor in my
house, nor in Mitch Lemay’s apartment on a winter day.
Two five minute chunks of sound performance recorded live in 1990, I think, in Zurich Switzerland. We’ve all been to this type of event–a ratty warehouse with people sitting on the dirty concrete floor and a couple of guys making random sounds using toys and junk. No way to know what we’re hearing exactly, although there are voices here and there, and a violin shows up near the end of side A. Other than that, it’s all rumbles and scrapes and squeaks. Noise-wise, this is not particularly noisy; it’s more like lo-fidelity sound recordings of who knows what. Kind of rad for nearly 30 years ago.
Beautiful blood-red 7″ from two harsh noise masters, released in 1994.
With this addition, KFJC now owns the complete back catalog of Worldmadeflesh recordings. (There is only one other release, a split 7″ entitled Japanese Torture Comedy Hour, also featuring Autoerotichrist.)
Richard Ramirez (of Black Leather Jesus and more), brings some serious coprophagic cacophony. Very dense, heavy, and mean. Infinite ever-shifting layers of explosions, screeches, and roars. A thick wall, with only brief interludes of piercing electro-fuckery.
Autoerotichrist is Russell Mason of Enemy Soil (also well-represented in the KFJC library). His side is more dynamic and full of abrupt changes. It almost has a call-and-response structure at times, like being pummeled by alternating fists. The blows come harder and heavier, as you bleed out your ears.
Play at 33.
Scuzz punk from Gresham, Oregon. Stevie Blunder on vox, Niko on drums, Vomit Master on guitar, and Ellis Dee (not KFJC’s Roland Blunt) on bass. Late ’80s punk, discernible vocals all on the theme of pee-pee. Whistle solo on “We’ve Come to Kill.” FCC clean, but definitely disgusting. Translucent yellow vinyl limited to 200 copies.
2018 7” EP from Oakland post punk trio of Max Nordile on sax, Alejandra Alcala on bass, and Sam Lefebvre on drums. Four energetic tracks of logical chaos, wacky vox, rhythmic contortions. There’s nothing new about this no wave, but that’s quite alright – you can hear they’re having fun and it’s hard not to laugh along with them. From new local label Fine Concepts.
Pretty cool find – 7″ EP released sometime in the 80s from America’s Greatest Noise Artist himself, Emil Beaulieau (the alterego of Rrron Lessard of legendary label RRRecords, but you knew that). Four short tracks with all the trappings of power-drill-to-the-forehead harsh noise, but the experience of listening to this disc isn’t quite like that. Maybe it’s because within the clipped blasts are mysterious drones (T1), whistling melodies (T2), distorted guitar and whimpered vocals (T4) – you know, that velvet touch. Emil hopes you like it, but if not, well…
12345 S. El Monte Road Los Altos Hills, California 94022
Public Inspection File