Nocturnal is an elusive ambient wall noise act (ANW), a classification I’m somewhat hesitant to provide but which best describes Nocturnal’s static churnings. Much like the other releases on Slow Death Records, this CD-R is presented with red-shaded, tribal artwork on a white CD-R with four tracks of lengthy, relatively unchanging walls. Nocturnal sounds very similar to the stylings of Slow Death Records’ artist Ghost, although I cannot confirm that the artists are the same.

The first untitled track features a fuzzy brand of static which sounds fairly digital; there’s an initial undertone of wall rumbling from a layer of static, and on top of that is a single layer of fluctuating strands of static that strike and release, allowing the track to alternate and judder throughout its twenty minute runtime. It’s ambient and yet still mesmerizing because of this single line of static, which cuts in and out at unequal times and seems fairly random.

Untitled two retains that same digital fuzz, and this time the wall mimics what a harsh noise wall might do – a low rumble that is quite similar to the first track, with a minimal strand of static that rages right alongside it. There’s a good transition, and this track is what I would say would be most similar to something you might hear from Ghost’s harsher walls, with a similar set-up and different sound. Likewise, track three rolls right into a wall pretty identical to the second, although this is harsher, with a blown-out static movement along with rolling bass beneath it, something you might find less ambient than the other tracks on this Nocturnal disc. And finally, track four features the same rumbling textures but with a little extra audibility. The static seems strangely pared back but also more encompassing, an odd but hypnotizing sound that ends the disc.

There’s a strange fuzzy quality to Nocturnal that I love, something drenched in the mesmerizing sounds that can really fray the brain and fry the ears. There’s nothing on Untitled that might blow those listeners of HNW or ANW away, but it remains a significantly strong foray into that world regardless.

]]> http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/26/nocturnal-untitled-cd-r-slow-death-records/feed/ 0 ryneb http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/21/priest-in-shit-iconeffigy-7-lp-phage-tapes/ http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/21/priest-in-shit-iconeffigy-7-lp-phage-tapes/#comments Sat, 21 Jan 2012 16:45:15 +0000 ryneb https://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/?p=897 ]]>

 

This is Memory Wave Transmission’s first record review, and thanks to Phage Tapes, it’s certainly an awesome one. Priest In Shit is a harsh noise group featuring Richard Ramirez, Sean Matzus, and Vance Osborne, something like a supergroup of noisicians that often play in their other project Black Leather Jesus. Icon/Effigy is short but intensely harsh, with two side-long tracks barely hitting the nine-minute mark collectively.

With three members, it’s quite apparent that Icon/Effigy would have a lot going on in its two tracks. “Icon” features some scratchy texturing of junk electronics, which often alternates and shifts to give way for some distanced static sounds. Everything seems filtered through a scratchy contact mic, giving the noises an even more lo-fi, undefined sound; what’s great about this, though, is that it allows certain elements of the noise to drop out, for contrasts to be made between the static and industrial clatter of a restrained crunch beneath the more dominating whorl of harsh electronics. Despite being assaulting to the ears, the track also has a refined, almost rhythmic pattern to it that makes “Icon” ironically unlistenable and yet strangely hypnotizing.

“Effigy” has that same signature sound, very scratchy and buzzy but with numerous textures and noises filling its bulk. There’s a sustained buzz and judder underneath, with a heady bit of static that fluctuates atop it; and thanks to the multiple players, multiple layers of slashing static butt heads. It’s interesting that Priest In Shit never really erupt but always simmer and boil; the fact that it’s apparent that they could if they so chose to makes it that much more exciting to follow Icon/Effigy through multiple listens, continuously flipping the record.

 

 

]]> http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/21/priest-in-shit-iconeffigy-7-lp-phage-tapes/feed/ 0 ryneb http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/19/potier-einsicht-in-die-notwendigkeit-c20-not-on-label/ http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/19/potier-einsicht-in-die-notwendigkeit-c20-not-on-label/#comments Thu, 19 Jan 2012 14:00:16 +0000 ryneb http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/?p=892 ]]>

Potier. is Michael Toepfer, a harsh noise act that seems to center around the industrialism of cities and the ugliness of said economic expansion. Potier.’s website states that the act is “Oil City HN”; I’m not sure what exactly that means, but based on the artistry of this cassette and the fact that JLIAT did the layout, I can only imagine that Potier. partakes in grandiose philosophical themes and establishes them in his noise – especially since the title seems derived from a book about German cities by Frank Betker. Einsicht In Die Notwendigkeit is almost all in German, from the title to the track listing to the j-card’s printed message, which I cannot read but which seems an important part of this cassette.

Two side-long tracks make up this cassette, first with the lengthy title “Deutsch/Weiss/Heterosexuell/Reproduktionsbereit”. Despite the slashes between names, this is one full track that often develops wall-like tendencies throughout. Unlike a wall, however, the noise often builds upon itself; what first begins as a harsh and loud display of despondent subway systems and cluttered, dark alleys amplifies and coalesces, definitively bleak and oppressive. There’s an interesting texturing here of decaying electronics, often whirring and spiraling out of control while a pitchy feedback wail impersonates that of a train running off the rails. It’s hypnotic because of the jarring nature of the feedback, but it’s all grimy enough to work as an ironic depiction of life before (the cover) and after (the noise) within the expansion of civilization.

“Politisch Unauffaellig/Produktiv Arbeitend” is a little more straight-forward in its harsh noise, with crumbling walls of static that often accelerate, decelerate, amplify and crunch. It still retains that idea of the harsh noise wall, something that feels unchanging, but in this case, Potier. truly is slightly altering the texturing of this static. It feels like windburn, but in a good way, although not as intensely engaging as ”Deutsch/Weiss/Heterosexuell/Reproduktionsbereit” can be.

But even with an underwhelming B-side, Einsicht In Die Notwendigkeit is a very rewarding listen for fans of harsh noise and walls. Potier. documents the collapse of urban societies within his noise, and his texturing ensures that even if there’s not an answer to societal decay, it’s at least enjoyable to listen to.

]]> http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/19/potier-einsicht-in-die-notwendigkeit-c20-not-on-label/feed/ 0 0.000000 0.000000 0.000000 0.000000 ryneb potier http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/17/brandon-x-brandon-x-c20-space-idea-tapes/ http://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/2012/01/17/brandon-x-brandon-x-c20-space-idea-tapes/#comments Tue, 17 Jan 2012 20:27:50 +0000 ryneb https://memorywavetransmission.wordpress.com/?p=888 ]]>

Brandon X is the owner and operator of Space Idea Tapes, and this is his debut cassette. As a twenty minute noise tape, it’s a nice short start to a noise career, as it gives the listener a small taste of the sound without exhausting the potential. Two side-long tracks are featured on this tape, with only a j-card inclusion without track names.

Brandon X toys with harsh noise, drones, and static manipulation. On side A, he tackles thin lines of static that stutter and then completely cut out, sometimes fading out shortly or other times skipping into territory that sounds like warped cassette manipulation. There are moments of brief clarity on side A, where one can sort of hear the whirs of the tape or what sounds like a musical deconstruction. But other times, the strangeness of the tape’s composition can throw the listener; take the beginning of the track, which feels too sparse and barren, or the messy shifts between samples. Sometimes it sounds like a vacuum cleaner has been recorded; sometimes there’s just a lot of analogue judders. They don’t always mesh, and it also feels like there’s a lack of direction in some of the minimal blanks.

Side B is, too, often minimal in its sound. The track starts off with a simple shuddering line of lower amp feedback that eventually spirals into some static tweaks. The pared-down Brandon X simply sounds like problems with studio equipment, which is fine if it were a little bit more interesting, but sometimes Brandon X slips into the dilemma of not giving the listener enough. One line of noise tweaking might not be as minimally entertaining as you might think, and here, there’s such a lack of defining sound that these tracks might just be damaged tape recordings of recording equipment left on. I’m all for simplicity, but there’s nothing inherently mesmerizing about listening to the subtle hum of the amp.

It’s not a terrible start for Brandon X; I can imagine this first cassette is more about learning what his equipment can do, what sounds good and what doesn’t, rather than any kind of chaotic patterning of intestine-spilling noise. But it will likely be seen as an amateurish display of harsh noise, something that Brandon X will need to improve upon as he continues to release his noise.

With Jefferson Mayday Mayday’s moniker, you’d think the group would be hearkening back to Jefferson Starship, a noisy tribute band to those who “built this city.” Instead, Jefferson Mayday Mayday is full of psychedelia, and if you read their artist biographies, watch their LSD-tripping videos, or try to describe them, you’ll find that their ideas are more akin to science fiction worship and cosmic devotion than any anthemic rock band. This C40 from Space Idea Tapes is basically the psychobabble of Jefferson Mayday Mayday put into sound.

The j-card states that Eyjafjallajökull is a “virtual sound and life quest synthopolex”, and you’ll likely hear a lot of synth on this tape. Over five tracks, Jefferson Mayday Mayday shifts their focus from ethereal to dreary, from cathartic to ominous, in mere moments, and much of these songs feature warped synth tracks, organs drudging forward through looped peals of spaceship lasers. A carnival-like polka busts forth from “Rare Earth Minerals”, while opener “Behold! A Blue Moon Bearthing” drones along with dark, minimal synth work and chimes of junk materials that threaten to dissolve the earth in a miasma of color.

To say the least, Eyjafjallajökull is a mesmerizing tape full of weirdly lucid sounds, patterns and imagery that float across the soundscape. Jefferson Mayday Mayday sound tight in their compositions, hypnotically rhythmic and yet anthropomorphic. The structures are always changing, and as soon as I felt like I had Jefferson Mayday Mayday locked down as yet another group attempting to create sonically horrifying sounds, their noise shifted into something uncharacteristic. It’s all very weird, unsettling, and psychedelic – it’s also a trip worth taking.

You can hear both “Behold! A Blue Moon Bearthing” and “Black Mass Extinctzion” from this tape here, and check out the visuals Jefferson Mayday Mayday has paired with them.

Pregnant Spore is back on this cassette with five tracks of fast-moving harsh noise, very junky in sound and jumpy in theme. As with much of Rainbow Bridge’s output, the tape comes with a colorful j-card of spattered paint a la Jackson Pollack, with a numbering out of 50.

This cassette is really all over the place, and it finds Pregnant Spore doing what it does best – layering junk electronics, cutting away for a variety of warped sounds and pulsating whirs until the whole track finds a unified whole.

Side A is split into two tracks, the lengthy “Darn It! Jolly Scum” and “Satan Drape”. The first finds its rhythm almost right away, with a scratchy bass pounding leading the track while circuit-bent electronics and writhing strands of feedback often play at odds with each other. And although Pregnant Spore hits a lot of different tones with the noise here, he often returns to similar sounds, and it helps that the tracks are often rhythmically structured. A lot of screeches, tweets, and damaged sounds over the course of this side, although some do appear to be simply the effect of knob twists. There’s a really great vocal sampling of Gregorian chants, a transcendent effect of beautiful, human harmonies paired with the riotous electronics of Pregnant Spore, and “Satan Drape” becomes one of the best cuts off of Harmonious Salmon Hearts.

Side B is often similar, with “Snot Grass Pt. 1″ starting off with tons on swirled electronics color, crunchy static often deeply underneath echoes of distorted vocals, hectic electronic squeals, and overall just a generally insane noisescape. All of the acts often blend in, although “Vitamin F” and “Snot Grass Pt. 2″ do have their own distinct rhythms, and the latter features some nicely textured drums. This is good, though, because the blend means that Harmonious Salmon Hearts has managed to craft a pattern for the cassette.

I think most people know if they like the brand of noise Pregnant Spore works in. Sometimes abrasive, sometimes genuinely simple, Harmonious Salmon Hearts hits a lot of different areas of noise, but the continual factor of this tape is its squelching, warped sound, which sounds nuanced enough for me.

Download this now, since it is, unfortunately, out of print

 
There’s not a whole lot I know about Zombie Bite besides the fact that the artist owns and runs the hilariously named label Northern Lord, which I’d like to believe is a parody of the larger Southern Lord label. Zombie Bite’s cassette The Curse is a very short puke-green foray into harsh noise with wall leanings. At my ten minutes, this cassette is an easy pick-up, and it doesn’t take long for Zombie Bite to hit his stride. 
 
On side A, The Curse builds a static crackling sound, slowly crescendoing while an ear-splitting cacophony of feedback squeals fills out the track. There’s a bit of shuddering bass, and it all feels very humanly manipulated, structurally unsound and ready to break down any moment. It’s thanks to the ripple effect of the noise, the static’s tendency to penetrate every part of the track with its uneven texturing. It’s almost wall-like It’s thickness, but it’s also always slowly crumbling, and with the fluctuations comes a lot of nuances to listen for like the screams behind the noise or the way the bass dips and vibrates. Listen loud for the changes. 
 
Side B is equally to-the-point with a similar brand of churning static, but it’s is coupled with noises that seem played through the static rather than overtop of it. The whirs and whooshes are interrupted by jumpy percussive staid, although Zombie Bite allows subtle drones to escape the clutches of the tremors. The two tracks certainly feel connected, and side B is an extension of where the first side left off, making The Curse a nice slab of harsh noise that is varied yet connected throughout. 
 

Just wanted to log on to say that I wish everyone a happy new year. If you really want to scare yourselves today, head on out to see that atrocious film New Year’s Eve currently playing in theaters. Here’s to another good year of horror!

 

Scrapyard was originally released in 1995 with a limited run on vinyl, and as has been the custom for much of BlackLeather Jesus’ earlier work, the album has been re-released on Phage Tapes with a more attainable number. The disc features all three of the original tracks, with two cuts from Ramirez and one longer track from the ensemble Black Leather Jesus. There’s also an additional, new track from Ramirez, which adds a bit extra for those who already own the original.
 
The Richard Ramirez tracks are extremely recognizable, certainly reminiscent of his early work in harsh noise. “The Collapse of an Industry Long Forgotten” is mostly cut-up work, scrap electronics writhing together, with shards of static and twirls of feedback oscillating together. Occasional rhythms stay for only a minute before Ramirez tweaks the sound, and there’s a more chaotic approach to his early work here; it’s also quite a bit less refined than later projects, even in the setup, which seems very minimal here. Overall, the first tracks pretty standard harsh noise fare, with much of the shifts being subtle knob tweaks or static shudders that trade back and forth between feedback bursts.
 
“Male Nudity Among American Wreckage” is similar in style to the previous track, but it’s a bit more structured, keeping defined tones longer than its predecessor for a less-varied but more rewarding track. Ramirez keeps some of the churning static longer, adds an incessant beeping sound, and even moves the noise amongst different speakers, making this an experiment that finds Ramirez capturing a more dynamic sound. It’s still very jumpy, but it manage to return to the same themes throughout. There’s even some interesting vocal sample work, decomposed and twisted into small bits of repeated bursts. It seems a prelude to the porn samples Ramirez uses on the new recording on this disc.
 
Black Leather Jesus get one track on the disc, the longest-running “Human Connection (An Obscene Turn of Events)”. If you know the noise act, you know their sound often combines industrial scrap sounds with harsh noise, and this track is no different. The sound seems a little pared back, with a rumbly bass filling the void while screams, electronics, and even some guitar-like fiddling progress in front. There’s a lot going on during the track, and that’s thanks to the myriad members that make up the project; each gets a substantial role here, and the twenty minutes of the track are nearly filled with different sounds throughout.
 
And finally, there’s the new addition to Scrapyard from Ramirez titled “Just Like Me”. Like Ramirez’s newer solo stuff, the track begins with a lengthy gay porn sample; although that is the end of the explicit content, if you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing (for any reason), I would suggest staying away from this track, and especially at work, since it does get pretty dirty. Nevertheless, the track has the best mastery on the album,and it’s also the most original piece. Ramirez uses his background in walls to create a subtly moving piece of harsh noise that really emphasizes cut-up sound; the bulk of the track has a real junk metal sound to it, with the electronics used sounding like they were heavily deconstructed and recorded through a terribly scratchy contact mic. With that said, it’s an excellent piece of noise, and it’s so interesting to compare the changes in Ramirez’s sound and note the growth of this remarkable artist.
 
But while the last track on this split is spot-on, that doesn’t make Scrapyard enough to recommend to those who already have the original LP. To be honest, the original tracks are only sub-par from both artists; I would recommend, however, for those who haven’t heard this to pick up the new edition.