Digging: Merzbow – Fantail

Merzbow: Fantail
Clu Clux Clam (2002)

Whenever my interest in Merzbow begins to wain, and I start to feel that after hearing the 50 odd Merzbow records I own that I’ve heard it all before, he comes along and surprises me.

Fantail fits into the easier-listening end of his spectrum. Not that it isn’t noisy, but it’s certainly not as harsh and aggressive as something like Pulse Demon or Venerology. Instead, we’re treated to a collection that’s based on damaged guitar playing and meditative throb.  Opening track Clouds is a complete corker that kicks off with what sounds like a blown-out bass guitar and then morphs into some doomy, Boris style drone before petering out in a haze of blips and blurps. Magnificent stuff. When Merzbow puts thought into his compositions he proves himself light years ahead of his contemporaries.

Overall, Fantail crosses a much broader palette of sounds than Mr Akita usually plays with.  Mountain is based on a series of higher pitched sounds, almost like running water, which dance with each other in an amazingly playful way. On Waterfall, he brings back the guitars for some more doomy drone accentuated with a ringing Black-Metal buzz, which he then destroys in an explosion of digital scree.

The distinction between each track on Fantail calls to mind Merzzow but Fantail isn’t as consistent a record. Caterpillar 2002 and the live track that closes the record, are pretty standard (although decent) Merzbow fare. Still, fans who prefer the lighter side of Merzbow, or people looking for an entry point into his massive catalogue will find plenty to like here.

Digging: Prurient – Bermuda Drain

Prurient: Bermuda Drain
Hydra Head (2011)

According to Bermuda Drain‘s liner notes you should “listen at night while driving through European tunnels”. I was in Japan over the new year and this record is also the perfect soundtrack for speeding around Tokyo’s freeways, winding through neon lit and smog stained skyscrapers like a scene from Bladerunner. Despite the hype leading up to this release things have gone quiet for Prurient. Critics praised Bermuda Drain for the most part, but his fans seem unsure about the goth-wave direction. This shift in sound shouldn’t come as a surprise really, given Dominick Fernow’s involvement in the synthetic emo project Cold Cave, and his increasing interest in keyboards and poetry over his last few records. And on a track like Watch Silently, where the percussive stomp sounds like a Wolf Eyes impersonation, he should be  keeping the noise Nazis satisfied, but it seems the moody synths found throughout the other eight tracks are too foreign for most.

The more I listen to Bermuda Drain the more I appreciate its stark landscapes and knack for manipulating noise and atmosphere into something that almost resembles a song. Rarely has someone been able to make synth lines sound so menacing without melting in cheese. The vibe is foreboding, Fernow’s spoken prose is sparse, clear and threatening. He sounds like a man on edge, and when he erupts into gut wrenching screams, their contrast against the emotive synthesisers is unsettling. Sure, Suicide were doing something similar in the 70s but their schtick was way more inspired by blues and rock. And Alan Vega thought he was Jim Morrison. Suicide didn’t sound menacing (even if their live show was), in fact at times they almost sounded funky.

The easiest and more accurate reference point for Bermuda Drain is Horror and Action movie soundtracks of the 80s, where keyboards and drum machines provided cheap backing tracks to schlock. John Carpenter and Dario Argento are all over this and that’s probably why I can appreciate Bermuda Drain. Despite its angst and claustrophobia there is a sentimental edge to the record; nostalgia about being both repulsed and attracted to the video nasties of yore, watching something forbidden. Rooting for the monster on-screen. I like Bermuda Drain, I like it a lot. And I think the noise nerds need to ease up on Fernow for pushing his own boundaries.

Digging: Daniel Menche – Eye on the Steel

Daniel Menche: Eye on the Steel
Substractif (2004)

Why haven’t I written about Daniel Menche before? He’s easily the most diverse and interesting noise guy out there and Eye on the Steel has cemented his place among my favourite artists. Each of his records offers up something different to the last, he’s incredibly creative and never seems to run out of ideas.

I caught up with a friend last night that I hadn’t seen in person for a couple of years. She’s been living in Berlin and touring around Europe playing Cello in an experimental theatre company. We got talking about some of the experimental/sound art shows that she’s witnessed in basements and random venues around Berlin. She can’t wrap her head around the idea that people are interested in listening to ‘noise’. Which is interesting because she has a fondness for contemporary classical composers who throw convention right out the window.

It got me thinking about what it is that makes a noise artist interesting. The answer, of course, is subjective but attention to composition (dynamics, texture, some sense of narrative) never goes astray. Anyone can place a contact mic on a razor blade and scrape it along a length of wood to make ‘noise’, and I have to assume that it’s this sort of amateurism that my friend has been exposed to.

I’m not saying noise needs a formula, but the genre itself is at its most powerful when ‘noise’ is harnessed and sculpted into a journey that each individual experiences on his or her own.

Menche does that. Whether he’s sampling waterfalls, body parts or his own voice he’s as concerned with where each piece is going as he is with the ‘noise’ itself. It doesn’t feel like much is left to chance, although I’m sure that’s not the case. He knows how to grab your attention, where he wants to take you and how he’s going to get you there. He wants noise to affect the psyche the way that conventional music does.

If you’re new to Mr Menche, then Eye on the Steel is fantastic place for you to start. These 11 short pieces offer up the full gamut of his ouvre from Gregorian drones to layered field recordings to pulsating rhythms. An excellent entry point to his lengthier, more demanding works. This just became one of my favourite noise records, ever.

New release: Liturgy – Aesthethica

Liturgy: Aaesthethica
Thrill Jockey (2011)

The misanthropic Massive are angry. They’re waging war. Indie labels are releasing black metal records and god-be-damned some of them are shitloads more exciting, raw, emotive and out there than anything recorded on a four-track in a graveyard this year. Ok, except for the new Wolves in the Throne Room, which I’ll bang on about another day.

What sets Liturgy apart is the very thing the corpse-painted hordes are so pissed off about; frontman Hunter Hunt-Hendrix’s belief that Black Metal doesn’t have to be nihilistic and grim, that in fact its its otherworldly nature has the capacity to ‘transcend’ natural states in a positive manner. Do some internet research, the blogo-sphere loves a good beef.

Personally this Zen like aspect of Black Metal is exactly what I’ve always loved about it. The way repetitive, buzzing guitars and drums become hypnotic and dare I say supernatural. Liturgy have honed this down to a fine art comprised of spastically fast drum work and intricate, cyclic, soprano guitar patterns that weave about into an astral ride into the ether.

Take True Will, a thick slab of sound, everything enmeshed and gut wrenching like some power electronics monster. Hendrix howls away incoherently deep in the mix. And the hook, if you can call it that, is one atonal note repeated into oblivion after every verse, and then repeated beyond oblivion in the track’s climax. It’s like amphetamine Krautrock; like My Disco and Shellac on steroids. There’s a definite noise-rock element at play here, which might explain why 20 Buck Spin released Liturgy’s debut a few years back.

Meanwhile, Sun of Light spends its first three minutes creating a tapestry of damaged upper fret board guitar work that rides a lazy pulse, and once you’ve drifted away on its awkward clouds it explodes into a zig zagging frenzy of scales and blast beats. You can’t transcend forever.

The instrumental Generation rides a single riff for nigh seven minutes, relying on shifting drum patterns to alter the atmosphere. Generation takes you dangerously close to the edge, poising you for madness and boredom before the beauty of its minimalism takes hold and off you go, losing yourself in the moment. It’s no mistake that the album is peppered with Gregorian chants and miscellaneous religious mantras; the original transcendental music.

Most likely, those with no appreciation for music that sits even remotely close to the realm of Metal will find Liturgy and their schtick hard to take. Aesthethica demands repeat listens before any of its meditative hooks get under your skin. However, the best music is that which rewards you over time and if you’re willing to give up your inhibitions or your ‘true’ Black Metal allegiances, and if you’re willing to get over the fact that Liturgy’s main man goes by the name Hunter Hunt-Hendrix then there’s plenty of treasure in Aesthethica. Go forth and transcend.

Digging: Astro Jazkamer Hair Stylistics

Astro Jazkamer Hair Stylistics: Motorcycle Fuck with the Ghostrider
aRCHIVE (2007)

This somewhat obscure little puppy would have to be among the most aggressive, violent noise releases out there. Recorded live in Tokyo, which adds some serious depth and dense static to the madness, this is a fucking great collaboration between cult faves Jazkamer and two Japanese noise-niks I’m not so familiar with.

I don’t often go for the whole relentless wall of noise thing but there’s something so freaking drastic about the carnage these guys amass on stage that there’s no escape. Sound-wise all the usual suspects are present, from high-pitched scree to slabs of static to blown out bass. But there’s also some great subtleties in the layers of groaning guitar, human shrieks and synthesiser damage. Apparently Lasse Marhaug is playing drums…..not that I can hear that among the din.

Listening to Motorcycle Fuck with the Ghostrider conjures up imagery of these guys tearing a stage to shreds and finishing their set covered in blood, even though I know they’re more cerebral than the likes of Wolf Eyes. Still, it’s a nice daydream. I don’t know, maybe the real appeal is that I scored this record for $5 when Missing Link was cleaning out its racks before moving premises? That and the picture of Mr T on the inside cover.

New release: Merzbow – Dead Zone

Merzbow: Dead Zone
(Quasi Pop) 2011

If you didn’t know that Dead Zone was Merzbow’s aural response to the natural and man made disasters which devastated parts of Japan earlier this year, you won’t be enlightened upon listening to it. Even despite the haunting cover art from Chernobyl Dead Zone doesn’t wear its heart on its sleeve, but the devil is in the detail.

Merzbow has always been about the detail. The joy of listening to him comes from drawing out the sound sources, finding snippets that you are able to identify with and latch on to. Making sense of the madness. And for listeners who go into Dead Zone with some background knowledge there is plenty that you can read into. Like the ten minute marks in both The Blade of Oblivion and The Spirit Indulges in the Sadness (Merzbow’s most sombre title ever?) where that theremin sound he’s been into lately comes off like a Geiger Counter lost in the fall out.

Throughout Dead Zone Akita’s favourite sounds take on new meanings – crunchy metallic noise stands in for crumbling buildings, whooshing static becomes the roar of a twenty foot wave, buzzes and whirs sound like melting nuclear reactors. Of course, this is all just me projecting my own pre-conceived notions of what Dead Zone should and does sound like. It’s just me trying to make sense of what is essentially non sensical. The beauty of Merzbow is that another listener won’t hear any of this in Dead Zone’s dense and evolving palette.

And this is definitely a dense listen. I’d place it in the harsher, and less penetrable realms of his work. But it’s also kind of beautiful in its own ugly way. And that might just say more about me than Dead Zone.

Digging: Merzbow – Tauromachine

Merzbow: Tauromachine
Release Entertainment (1998)

The impending release of Merzbow’s earthquake and tsunami inspired Dead Zone has got me excited about the great man again. Tauromachine has been on high rotation around these parts of late. The nineties were a great period for Merzbow as far I’m concerned, with the likes of Pulse Demon, Aqua Necromancer, 1930 and Psychorazer on offer, and Tauromachine is another fine example of his pre-millenium madness.

I’d call this Mr Akita’s techno record. Not literally of course, but there’s plenty of 4/4 throb anchoring down the scree on Tauromachine, and in a fucked up way it’s hard not to find yourself head nodding along with it. I can only imagine what would happen if some DJ slipped a cut like Minotaurus in amongst a set of Jeff Mills and Richie Hawtin bangers while playing to a crowd of peaked party goers. Bad trips would most likely ensue, but it’s also possible that a handful of nutters would get swept away in swathes of fuzz and experience a noise epiphany.

Tauromachine is Merzbow at the accessible end of his spectrum, where his palette alludes to familiar sounds without actually being anything more than noise. He can be really clever like that.

New release: Knife Culture Buried Melbourne (compilation)

Knife Culture: Buried Melbourne
Sabbatical (2011)

I openly admit to suffering from cultural cringe. Especially when it comes to local films and music, particularly experimental music. But I can’t recommend strongly enough this double-disc compilation of Melbourne based noise artists. Seriously. Noise has been boring me of late, but this has rejuvenated my interest in a genre that I was starting to feel stagnant for me.

If I hadn’t recognised some of the names on the back of this deliciously packaged release I probably wouldn’t have bought it. Marco Fusinato is a visual artist/noisemaker that I’ve admired for some time (and years ago I used to work a shitty job with) (check out his awesome installation at ACCA a few years back), Rob Mason used to drum for the mighty Grey Daturas, and I’ve written about Ben Andrews’ (of My Disco) alter ego Blarke Bayer in a previous post.

What’s fucking awesome about Knife Culture, especially given it’s a compilation (which I generally avoid because they usually feel like bunch of random tracks slapped together) is that Sabbatical has put real thought into the track listing to ensure each piece flows on from the next, and that each disc has its own character arc. So many noise records feel like improvised recordings chucked together and released willy nilly. Not this.

At 29 songs spread over two discs, it’s impossible to provide a decent sense of Knife Culture’s scope, but some standout moments include: a super slow burner by Wife, that starts off with spasmodic fuzz and then cuts to silence before gently building into a comforting drone; a shimmering whirr by Justin K Fuller that sounds like Emeralds smoking crack with that Richard Pinhas/Merzbow collaboration; spooky rattles, crunches and feedback from the Bleach Boys; Marco Fusinato turning guitar debris  into a sharp blast of distorted gunk; blown-out walls of noise from Screwtape; a playful collage by Steve Law that makes me think of early Merzbow; and a hollowed out, grim and frosty dirge from Krystoffkrvstoffiston.

Nothing on Knife Culture stretches out much further than the 7 or 8 minute mark, and every piece on here is stronger for it. Each track feels focused on a specific concept, which enriches the listening experience. I’m sure there are plenty of Australian readers rolling their eyes at this post but I urge you to check this out. I doubt you’ll be disappointed and I think that if Sabbatical can keep up with releases of this quality, Australian noise merchants might find themselves appearing on the world map. Hell, the guy at Polyester Records raved about this when I took it up to the counter, so if you don’t want to take my word for it, take his instead.

New release: Sun Araw and Eternal Tapestry – Night Gallery

Eternal Tapestry / Sun Araw: Night Gallery
Thrill Jockey (2011)

Improvised live on American radio and then edited into digestible chunks, this collaboration between the mesmerising Sun Araw and (the unfamiliar to me) Eternal Tapestry is a psychedelic freak out, maaaan. It’s all Coyotes and Eagles stalking arid deserts with watery mirages on the horizon, while glistening snakes curl around Peyote trees.

Don’t go into this expecting much of Sun Araw’s dubbed out jams because Night Gallery is more rooted in the hazy rock of Acid Mothers Temple and Religious Knives. This is to be expected I guess, given the man behind Sun Araw is collaborating with an actual band. Night Gallery eases up on the delay pedals, reverb and repetition in exchange for wind instruments and conventional drumming.

None of this is a bad thing though. Night Gallery shifts from doodling ambience to rock grooves with enough quirkiness to hold your imagination for a 40 minute ride that culminates in a beautiful, extended rumination on soothing organs and panicky flutes. Night Gallery won’t go down in music history but it‘s the perfect companion to Quaaludes and ponchos, and at the moment it suits me just fine.

New release: Necro Deathmort – Music of Bleak Origin

Necro Deathmort: Music of Bleak Origin
Distraction Records (2011)

The internet might tell you that Necro Deathmort are some sort of Hip-Hop Black Metal hybrid, but don’t believe the hype, as Public Enemy would say. Music of Bleak Origin might open with a head-nodding riddim but the listener is quickly thrown into doomier and more industrial territory. This is a Post Rock soundtrack with some neat little tricks thrown in to keep things interesting.

Temple of Juno flirts with grime infused beats before it unleashes droning guitars and whirring electronics, and then closes out like an Acid techno meltdown. In Binary mixes dark Jazz in the vein of Bohren and der Club of Gore with stunning doomscapes indebted to Nadja.

Necro Deathmort are at their best when the electronics take a back seat, the beat slows to a crawl and the guitars are allowed to drone away in thick slabs of blackened muck, as they do on The Heat Death of Everything which ends in a gorgeous cacophony of guitars detuning themselves into oblivion. But the album is let down on the middle run of tracks where gothic Industrial takes over, creating a nightclub scene for people in eyeliner and platform boots.

It’s obvious this duo likes the balance between Industrial cheese and shoegazy doom. Necro Deathmort’s previous record is called This Beat is Necrotronic, if that tells you anything about where their head is at. Thankfully, the majority of Music of Bleak Origin falls into the doom category, albeit an electro-fied take on doom, and as long as they stay focused on that element I’m willing to keep listening.