Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Working Against Time as They Say:
R.I.P. ROBERT ASHLEY 3.28.1930-3.3.2014
I don't often feel the need to comment on people I admired's passing, because if I didn't personally know them then what's the point? Still, was very saddened when I heard the news about Bob earlier today. A true American legend, he fundamentally changed the way I, and many others, viewed composition, performance, and music in general. And he just seemed like such a good guy. Intensely smart, funny, dedicated to art and dedicated to the notion that art can give one something to live for. Man, an all time great. And while we are (unfortunately) on this topic, R.I.P. Alain Resnais, who breathed his last on Saturday. Been a long winter. Things should be heating up around here for Spring, hopefully we'll have some updates.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
One-Sided One-dars!
Well, try as I may it seems I can't keep quiet for very long. While the print form of PtMiiC might be on indefinite hiatus, I still feel compelled to drop some spillage on topics of interest from time to time. Eventually, once the label gets going, a select distro will accompany it and also house reviews, but until then irregular updates will be posted here for virtually no one to read when the mood strikes. One thing (comprising four sides of vinyl) that has struck me over the last month or so's been this (relative) influx of fine single sided archival releases that've found they's whey to my stoop. Scoff if you want, call it a rip off, etc., but in my book sitting through one side of great music beats two sides of so-so audio any day. It might not seem like it by the frequency of writing updates 'round here, but I keep myself plenty busy, and I don't get to spend nearly as much time near the turntable as I'd like, thus, if we can condense the juice into one sparkling side of cider than fine by me. And off to the races we are…!
Agents of Misfortune S/T (No Label) Something I always find annoying about certain music writer's (not pointing any fingers for once, we're trying to keep it classy this time around, ha!) prose, or even people I talk to day to day with similar interests, is how easily some are impressed by so called "carazee guitar damage." The number of examples of uninspired wankage (again, not gonna name names) that gets heralded as some sort of free/avant/fucked what-have-you just by virtue of having feeding back guitars is staggering. Perhaps I don't know how to have a good time, but to me simply having loud, "wild" guitar playing does not automatically equal good music. More often than not, it seems like a lazy attempt to mask the fact that the song writing is actually the most standard, milquetoast extant (or the band is "improvising" because they can't write interesting songs). Occasionally, however, there come takes, both archival and contemporary, that live up to the hype, and happily such is the case with Agents of Misfortune. The band was a short lived power trio featuring a pre-Faith No More Jim Martin and, famously, Clif Burton before he joined Metallica. To say this side is wasted beyond belief would be an understatement. The molten hot 12 minute set, reportedly taped from a live 'battle of the bands' performance circa '81 (clip available on Youtube and is recommended viewing) starts off coherent enough, the group hammering a tight, lock-step groove not unlike budget King Crimson, but very quickly any semblance of song is ditched in favor of increasingly maniacal power drone, eyes fixed on the effects pedals and permeating straight to the core of the Ninth Circle. Damn thing reeks of the same scent that once wafted from a certain rural Ohio kitchen 'round about the time Daily Dance was bubblin' in the sauce pan, and numerous comparisons to Haino/PSF fit like a glove. Hell, I'd throw in many of the more Rock-oriented outfits on Alchemy while we're visiting the Far East; it really is that gone. Eventually the red-eyed threesome manage to reign things in for a few minutes of crude work outs on what I'm told would later be developed as Metallica riffs (sorry, wouldn't know, I'm not even familiar with their "good" stuff. Guess that makes me a wimp or something). I'm no detective, but the paste on cover looks an awful lot similar to that Sweet Sister Ray re-boot job making the rounds about a year ago, so perhaps this is the same fellar who done that. Worthy of a purchase? I'll let Clif's future bandmate answer that.
Jean-Louis Brau Instrumentation Verbales (Alga Marghen) So this record is not very new, it's from 2010, but it is new to me! In fact, Instrumentation Verbales just made its way to my abode after I slapped 'er on a Fusetron order in place of that elusive RCR boot (Anybody holdin' on this thing? I mean sure, I have too many crummy Phoenix/Radioactive hack jobs taking up shelf space as is, really the things are starting to bum me out, but we all know Pearlman 'aint getting a legit reissue campaign thanks to the unsavory acts of his kid. Oh well, a story for a different day). Yeah anyway this record is both one-sided and fantastic, so let's get on with it. Brau ran in the same circles as such Heroes as Gil Wolman and Francois Dufrene, often collaborating with them, and if those names don't sound familiar I suggest hitting the books real quick like. Trust me, you won't regret it. At the ripe age of twenty Brau hooked up with Isidore Isou and the aforementioned Wolman to join pre-Situationist group the Letterist, and eventually, along with Wolman, Debord et al., started the Letterist International, of which he would later be ejected from due to military occupation. Brau would contribute sound, visual art and text throughout the 60's and early 70's to a number of magazines/journals/manifestos in between stints running a brothel and dealing drugs during the Indochina war. This is the most complete documentation of his Sound Art, and, as his ties would lead one to believe, much of this would not be out of place on the absolutely essential Revue OU box set. Packed to the brim with primitive tape cuts, spastic sampled percussion and a generally deranged atmosphere, the vast majority of Instrumentation Verbales has got that tense, antagonistic vibe of Leo Kupper at his rudest or even Otto Muehl's Psycho Motorik. Brau was apparently very interested in the idea of destruction and decimation, and suffice to say it shows. This has been absolutely ruling the table at HQ, and I don't even have to flip it over to listen again once I'm done!
Poul Gernes S/T (Penultimate Press) Poul Gernes was a Danish artist active in the European post-war Avant Garde. Gernes is mainly known for his work in the fields of visual art and happenings, and this single twenty minute composition constitutes the entirety of his known musical output. Performed on a second-hand harmonium, the recording originally came out on cassette in 1969 and this is its first appearance on vinyl. Shooting for minimal organ drone with Roots in the Aether but landing closer to the 'ether' (ho!), it is apparent right outta the gate that Gernes did not have as firm a hold on the mechanics of the harmonium as he did the tools of various other trades he was well versed in, however, what he lacks in technical skill is more than made up for in the very natural, informal blending of rudimentary playing with un-staged occurrences in his environment. There's a certain charm in Gernes willingness to just let the recording process happen as it may, making no attempts to edit out playful interruptions from his young daughter, Ulrikka, or whatever else may enter the space while the tape is running. A resolute optimism towards the seemingly endless possibilities of the situation at hand shines through every minute, and comparisons to the piano work of Phillip Corner could be drawn in the fact that the activities happening around the instrumentation are as intregal to the piece as the sound it generates. Of course a reputed meeting with John Cage is likely to have influenced Gernes dedication to documenting the art of the everyday, as well. As the picture above clearly illustrates, Gernes was not afraid to "Put 'em on the Glass", as it were. I suggest you put your money where your mouth is and cop a piece of this primo Danish Pastry if my write up sounds the least bit enticing.
Bernd Louhaus El Nacimiento Del Huevo (Ultra Eczema) And to close out our one sided discussion we've got this fantastic recording of a mid-60's happening by Antwerp residing sculptor/artist Bernd Louhaus. Much like the above-mentioned Gernes, Louhaus was better known for his work in other areas, such as performance art and his minimal found wood sculptures, than music. As far as I can tell this is the only documented collection of Louhaus's Sound Art, and it is a hoot. Around the time of this recording Louhaus was a student of Joseph Beuys, and it certainly shows, as the presence of Beuys, Christiansen, et al. loom large over proceedings. Many passages also recall prime European Sound Poetry (Heidseick, Bodin, Hanson, etc.), a mixed media cluster fuck that would make Juan Hidalgo proud, and an amateur Scratch Orchestra-esque focus on interactions between Louhaus and a Spanish speaking female (who much of the time I believe is actually a pre-recorded language lesson guide). There's loads of jagged tape cuts, coughing/laughing/heavy breathing, a great ringing bell sound, plenty of poetry and live Actions, but it is the simple introduction of brief silence that sets it apart, creating a highly disorienting atmosphere that remains difficult to get a grip on even after multiple listens. Top notch sleeve on this one too, adorned with period photos of a young Louhaus showcasing a fondness for all things Surreal. A highly varied, engaging listen from clip to clip, I keep coming back to this one with no signs of slowing down yet.
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