No fidelity spooky black metal with synth interludes from Wales. Dark, brooding and buried. Wet, caves of despair cloaked in a fog of misery with strange off-key hooks and brooding laments for the spiritually bereft. Solo project of one highly prolific and recondite, S. The sole member of this prolific Welsh abomination. Having released six(6) LP’s (one of which is single sided) since 2018 the one you now hold being the third and perhaps most visually striking. Who can deny the appeal of impending erotic violence or the allure ritual sex magic? “Not I.”, said the miserable sonic goblin, “Not fucking I.”
Rock from Britain reminiscent at times of Killing Joke or early Wire, elsewhence The Cure, Joy Division, ersewhile Echo and the Bunnymen or maybe The Fall. Building on the well-laid foundations of their forebearers, there is a something slightly retrospective about CV but not necessarily derivitive. An homage to post/death/goth/punk perhaps while still offering their own unique, and in my miserable opinion, exceptional voice to the arena (killing floor). A majestic sermon for the lost, an admonishment for the defeated, draped in lavish guitar effects. A shouting chant bellows above the angular and terse rhythm. Reverb and chorus swell and fade like shadows in the dreary pre-dawn of a deserted Liverpudlian landscape. We are being watched…
FCC on 3 Karma RuminationTrack 7 is an unlisted reverse tracked, somber and heavily affected guitar signal. Coughin’ Vicars is helmed by Russ ‘WeasHELL’ Longmire aka @sketchstance and credited as Roman Remains, vocalist, artist, skateboarder, and man of the 11th hour. Limited, numbered, and hand crafted on this second run of cassettes released by the artist.
Cold, inscrutable Czechian Black Metal. Grim and fierce. Guttural and hypnotic. There is little variety on this LP so whereever you drop the needle you’ll find buried blast beats, anemic trem-picked guitar, and stolid, grim pharangeal vox in Chechen. What it lacks in virtuosity it makes up for with pure unadulterated spite.
A slightly cryptic entry in Mettallum states:”Some session members are also in Sator Marte, Dirris and Valraukar, but the main person and former behind Kult ofenzivy isn’t a member of any other bands.”
Fourth full length from this band with Bay Area roots and a distinctly Teutonic tincture. Bunker Wolf sings in his native German tongue (while titling the songs in English) his voice is perhaps the most rough, brazen instrument on the record. Edmund Xavier (Glenn Donaldson) along with
Clay Ruby veer far from their Jeweled Antler daze and Burial Hex nights respectively. The drum machines here are happy little robots, not hammering industrial death magnets. No trace of sonic cthonics, or hazey
texture-based Blithe drone drifters. These songs have pep. And polish, while they would fit in with ein track from Cassettencombinant, they eschew the raw for refined. The German words I cannot decipher, I will say their songs “Still Suffering” and “Last Flower of Youth” both feel really happy to me. Hell “End of the Age” even has digital handclaps. Maybe Wolf is singing poems from Rilke, somehow I don’t think so? The title track has a nice slinky vibe to it (cool clinking percussion and a bass line that prowls).
The song before it “Pity The Sun” rang a doppelganger bell to “Under the Milky Way.” That might just be me. It also kinda echoes “Nothing in My Heart” from Horrid Red’s debut. That album had a more punk bent (or see the older Teenage Panzerkorps with Bunker Wolf aand Edmund/Glenn), this is solidly pop, but both have the unmistakable bite of Wolf’s vocals.
BTW: This one’s on the stellar Soft Abuse label, just saying a FreakWeek focus on that label would be mighty tasty.
Bricolage is Amon Tobin’s second album from 1997, the first released under his own name, and his first on the Ninja Tune label. It was a departure from his first album, Adventures in Foam as Cujo (which KFJC owns), incorporating a heavier blend of jazz melodies and intense jungle rhythms. The track Easy Muffin has appeared in a soundtrack, an ad and other places online so you may have heard it before.
21 versatile tracks of “New Vintage” Jazz, Latin, Swing, Funk, Rockabilly, Mambo and Northern Soul from a wide range of artists assembled by Snowboy to accompany the Vintage festival in the UK. The musical experience at the Vintage Festival covers decades, genres and styles that have affected Britain over the years. They even have Vintage Nightclubs to suit all musical tastes AArbor
A variety of remixes by Up, Bustle and Out of their tracks Compared to What and Emerald Alley. Enjoy the sitars and other Indian instruments. AArbor
Ingest the pyromaniac manna of the underworld hosts and sink into the slimy depths of Brain. This newest album from Haare (Ilkka Vekka of Hämeenlinna, Finland), a melding of blackened noise and heavy psychedelia, surely would have found a spiritual home mixed into one of Cy Thoth’s Firebunker superimpositions. Twisted melodies and churning feedback storms from effected guitars, uncurling reptilian feelers, and howling voices make up the psychic disturbances, building towards a final solemn procession of flute, drums, bells and gongs that signal the arrival of a fearsome supernatural presence. Our first addition from the German industrial label Aussaat.
“Like the Night” is the translation of “Come La Notte”–and the sounds of this Italian “garage-pop” duo definitely give off the nocturnal vibe. I put “garage-pop” in quotes because it is as good a label as any, if you have to put a label on it. China Now is the percussionist and vocalist, and Leo Non is the guitarist, and together they create an atmosphere that does sound like their experimental night club Bad Peace. The pace picks up with the last track on Side A, and the first track on Side B sounds like surf guitar at the beginning. I encourage you to experience the music for yourself before boxing it into any genre.
Dreamy and slightly discordant synth driven pop with an edge from Perth. Like Suicide and The Screamers dp’d DEVO to ecstatic climax in a cascade ones and zeros. Beautiful, strange, and kinda seedy with a fucking well done cover of Gun Club’s “Sex Beat”.
Perth’s Gaffer (Aussie for geezer or old man) is a guitar-centric (post) punk power-house. Terse, driven, and pissed, they want us to slit our wrists, dance and spin as the blood hits the floor, scream, writhe and beg for more. Fight your boss, wake-up, and live like you give a toss.
Devastating echoed-out nature-punk from London that crush my weary, wounded heart with catchy doom-laden riffs. Short, sweet, and steeped in sorrow and spite; a witches-brew tasting of loamy soil and moss, inducing harrowing psychedelic fever-dreams of humanity’s imminent annihilation.
Am in love with their bio I nicked from their myspace:“Post punk three piece, fresh from a ritualistic naked action on Leytonstone flats witnessed by dog walkers and doggers, and involving tree loving, mud and filth in the rain. Their recently released first tape is a feminist take on wildness, plants, the earth (and its possible brutal revenge) and our place in it, and vegetables as eroticism. Members include those of Frau, Es, and Good Throb.”
A cacophony of electronic destruction, manipulated and tortured over 2 lengthy tracks. High hisses, low ghostly echoes, thrashing clashes, ear aches, migraine fuckery. They’ve all partaken in many acts of the noise realm… Wiese has dabbled in Bastard Noise, Smegma, Sissy Spacek, etc… Dilloway is a founding member of Wolf Eyes…. Turman has relations with NON and Boyd Rice. These 2 tracks are intriguing and quickly take sharp turns down a mysterious maze, it’s not just one loud blast of unintelligible frequency.
This 2020 Dark Entries re-release of the first full-length album from Australian electronic music pioneers Severed Heads brings these tracks to vinyl for the first time since their original release in 1981. The 2XLP deluxe edition includes a track that was omitted from previous reissues (“Food City”, A1) as well as a bonus disc with live performances, a cassette called “Side 3,” and the original tape loop demos for the album. Together, the collection is a fascinating look into how the band formed what would become their original industrial synth pop sound. In the album’s liner notes, head Head Tom Ellard recalls the trial and error process of throwing everything onto tape and seeing what worked. The approach makes for an exciting listen, a rush of ideas that includes varied musical influences (Ellard admits to disco and Kraftwerk, but the Throbbing Gristle early industrial sound also clearly come through), instruments they don’t know how to play (guitar, violin T7, T11, and even toy piano T9 find their way into the tracks), Ellard’s intricate tape work collages pieced together from fragments of radio broadcasts (front and center on the “The Clean Loops” T16), and the synth and sequencer work that became the foundation of their later sound. Highlights for me include the demonic voices and tessellated synth patterns on “Chiarivari” (T3) and the bizarre guitar jam “Unbreakable” (T22), but all are essential.
Dimitri (born Dimitrios Yerasimos) is a Turkish-born French music producer and DJ of Greek descent. His musical influences are rooted in 1970s funk and disco sounds that spawned contemporary house music, as well as original soundtracks from 1950s and 1960s movies such as Breakfast at Tiffany’s, La Dolce Vita and The Party, which were sampled in his album Sacrebleu. Dimitri fused these sounds with electro and block party hip hop he discovered in the 1980s. Sacre Francais the track remixed here is from the Sacrebleu album. The remixers are Bob Sinclar a/k/a The Mighty Bop and Chris the French Kiss (label boss of the Yellow label), Dim/DFP [Dimitri himself], and Konishi Yasuharu of the Pizzicato Five. Yasuharu’s track is hysterical and not to be missed! AArbor
Meandering and perverse noise-doom from Finland.
‘Judas Schindler’ [AKA Bestial Burst label-head Sami Kettunen, also of experimental black metal band Ride For Revenge and noise project Will Over Matter] handles ‘deth, deSStruction and malfunctioning power tools’ [AKA guitar and vocals]. ‘Martin Hitler King’ [real name unknown] plays ‘four extra heavy-gauge garrottes to strangle pencil necks’ [AKA bass guitar]. The power trio is completed by ‘Adolf Christ’ [AKA Pasi Markkula, the power electronics über-mensch behind Bizarre Uproar] on ‘gigatons of raging rhythmic hatexxxplosions’ [AKA drums].
Not exactly metal. No real riffs or song structure, but they still somehow manage to maintain an eccentric, diabolical groove for the duration of this single 30-minute session (divided in half for the two sides of this LP version). It takes talented musicians to make such dissonant cacophany sound so compelling for so long. Tortured lycanthropic growls, squealing feedback, frantic improvisation, raga-like hypnotic repetition and the occasional dialogue sample from the 1973 TV film ‘Satan’s School For Girls.’ An oddly compelling performance that’s more than the sum of its parts.
Black/death metal (or ‘war metal,’ if you like) from the Ohio duo of guitarist/bassist/growler Jake Kohn (formerly of Father Befouled and Black Funeral) and drummer Jeremy Spears, hailing Satan together since 2005 and still going strong today. This 2011 EP saw release in between the band’s first (2010) and second (2013) albums. Taut, hammering, relatively short songs that lean more in the death metal direction favoured by influences like Angelcorpse and Morbosidad than toward the blackened chaos of Blasphemy or Profanatica, although those latter two bands still lurk in the background on this. Melodic old-school riffage, bestial rasps, and deadly-accurate anti-aircraft drums. A1 is an experimental intro. Plays at 45RPM.
Not exactly groundbreaking, but a reliable vintage nonetheless. Their sound got more ‘out-there’ on later albums. A great live band, too.
Milan, Italy – April 27, 2018. Shrill, echoing Italian vocals pierce through a tirade of cymbal crashesss, guitars crush. The energy, the drive… relentless and vital. Pissed mysterious hardcore. Nothing else is known. You must find your own reality… but I have found this compelling photograph:
Another aural atrocity from station associates and friends Sissy Spacek FFFFFEEEEAAAAATTTTUUUUUUURRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGG their signature freak-out sound, a cacophonous assault on the lobes that employs Blast-beat Interruptus. A misery inducing barrage of chaotic drumming, throat rending roars, and ear piercing noise in a clean, alluring package that is, to my tastes, a compelling dichotomy with the horrific sounds contained within this stately and understated multi-fold digipak. Heavily represented in the library, Sissy Spacek is/was exactly the kind of project I would have scoffed at in the past… no composition, no orchestration, no virtuosity, no thank you. However, due in no small part to the time spent with kfjc (corrupting my mental faculties), I have come to understand that this may not be the case at all. In fact, as unlikely as it sounds, every note, every pause, every blast of unfocused mayhem may be a highly honed and polished effort that took countless takes to get… perfect. And now that I have been transmuted into a soul that can appreciate horrendous asymmetric dissonance, I might suggest that you play Featureless Thermal Equilibrium for your mother as you explain that college tuition would be wasted on you. That you are a true artist whose interests and trajectory are beyond the scope of mere plebeians. Or to simply bum (the fuck) out of any soul who hasn’t developed the thick skin, tinnitus, or demented sonic sensibilities of a dedicated KFJC volunteer.
A white hot release from J. Wiese (bass, tape, vox) and the current complicit cast including Charlie Mumma (drums,vox.), Mark Alan Miller (Eng.), and Jay Randall (vox.) recorded at Sonelab (Western Mass.), 13 June 2016.
Leeds, England. Neo-post-Thatcher hardcore. Nihilistic, low-fi and crusty, it might remind one of the East Bay in the early 90’s. Furious and miserable. D-beat from the damp. Hardcore from the core of the heart. Breathy barking and growling over an onslaught of frenetic guitars not dissimilar to G. Ginn ca. mid to late B.F. Peeling away the skin, the bass throbbing like the pulse of the not yet defeated. Ex-members of Perplex Flesh, Whipping Post, Moloch, No Form and many other projects that, admittedly, only now have I become cognizant of… partially asocial goblin that I have become.
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