🚀 go-pugleaf

Something newish, something oldish. Something for everyone-ish.
 
 
Richard Ramirez - Deconstructed Hand Device ltd. 500 cd (Deadline)
RR's cd debut comes in a mauve paint-smeared manila envelope, with
what look like the ripped, bloodied remnants of some murder
victim's clothing shellacked to the back. Evidence enough of an
unbalanced mind, you'd think, though real confirmation doesn't
arrive until one actually samples the merchandise. Two truly twisted
blobs of sadistic swill span the better part of 62 minutes, and
signify RR's much-anticipated entrance into the digital age.
Without so much as a mind-the-eardrums, asshole, the shellacking
kicks into gear: massive rips, and writhing, relentless wriggles
unload and implode with what can only be described as
unparalleled brutality. Mostly midrange mindfuck, here, though a
steady dose of crackling overamped high-end does manage to
goose-step its way through the convulsive clamour.
Ramirez is nothing if not a gentleman, however. After 30+ minutes
worth of follicular deconstruction, even the most durable ears
deserve a little sympathy. Blob the second yields precisely that:
subdued bass tones and irregular percussive crunches echo deep in
the decayed confines of a disused oil tanker... for a few minutes
anyway. One can't just go around titling things 'Unparalleled
Brutality' without a certain degree of accountability. And so it
comes as no surprise when Ramirez, ever the conscientious sort
(especially when abused organs are involved), delivers: high-end
shrieking sirens and hissing squeals erupt, driving mercilessly
toward a cloudless austerity of pure electronic molestation.
Unparalleled Brutality continues this way for much of the
duration, somewhat more 'palatable' pleasures punctuated by
renewed bursts of erratic, frenzied screeching, over and over
again. No doubt about it, the man has class.
 
 
Thirdorgan/Diesel Guitars - Osaka Noise 7" ltd 200 (Fever Pitch)
Rising Suns of Osaka noisedom offer introductory samplings from
two major schools of Japanese noise: one side harsh power
electronica, one side more 'ambient' improvised guitar spasm.
I shouldn't have to tell you whom is whom, but for you BIG DUMMIES
we will start with the harsh stuff. Like most splits involving
Osaka's most impressive noisester, Osaka Noise is well worth picking
up for the Thirdorgan half. "Futuredestroyer" sounds a bit like
transitional-era ThirdOrg, during which Akihiro "The Surgeon" Shimizu
spent his days waffling between irrepressibly brutal masses of pure
earscorch, and the more exquisitely pristine splicings and sweetly
sadistic incisions he has been administering of late. No date to
confirm this, but in my defense, the Diesel Guitar track is
date-stamped April 5 '95.
As for DG, to feign honesty, my feelings for their shit have proven
inconsistent at best-- about as inconsistent as Mr. Youki's
direction. Maybe it's that inexplicable fondness so many Japanoisers
have for psychedelic insemination-- even, and increasingly, the
harsher brethren. For better or worse, and I expect Japan's
harshheads to know better, the psychedelia-fetish thing is definitely
on the upswing in the Kingdom of Noise. Luckily, at least where the
noiseheaded are concerned, nothing spacey blights this particular
Diesel-powered sucker: nice and grubby, steady and grating, guitar
dirge-spew.
It's all very therapeutic, actually. Recommended noisehead dosage:
3 Thirdorganic earhole blowouts to 1 Diesel Guitar gurgle-grind. Let
DG be your pleasantly crushing soundtrack to aural recuperation.
Then blow the buggers out again. More tinnitus-conscious are advised
to reverse the dosage. Everyone's a winner.
 
 
Incapacitants - Operorue cd (Kubitsuri Tapes)
King Noise III, in conjunction with everyone's favourite noise label,
presents: 66 minutes of freaking-harsh brutality for the hearing
impaired. Not content to sit idly by while Alchemy alternately halves
its production, and concentrates on reissues, Mikawa & pal screech
and shriek their way down memory lane. After a two year, mostly
overseas, hiatus from pure high-end, the Undymanic Duo bow to the
NoiseHead, plug in the squealing frequencies and go nuts.
Actually, the cd is dated 1995, so maybe all of the above only proves
that when in Rome, Incaps prefer to try their hand at the local
cuisine (that overabundant Western variety of lower-end noise). This
is definitely my fave full-length Incaps thingy since "No Progress,"
and easily equal to intensity levels attained on older Alchemy
classics "Quietus" and "Feedback of NMS." It never ceases to amaze me
how many ways some people can exploit the same damn thing. But
Incapacitants do it time and again.
Take 'Postal Savings & Postal Life Insurance,' for instance. Typical
incapacitated blistering scorch-- the usual earholes frying, eyes
dilating, toes tapping, heads swimming-- but nevertheless something
that seems to end all too soon. 'Appointment with My Friend' could be
overamped, harshed-up leftovers from the "Ministry of Foolishness"
(RRR) sessions: competing layers of compressed subway rail-grind
drill through wheezing walls of jet-engine roar. As for 'A Walk in
the Evening,' well, let me recommend this one as a most assuredly
accurate test of your malfunctioning hearing-aid: blissfully
abrasive exercises in tweeter-shredding discontinuity that'll
scour and scathe the ugly grins off even the most cynically
clinically deaf, blindfolded.
 
 
Government Alpha - Doze cassette (XERXES)
Yasutoshi Yoshida's first full-length solo effort is a little on the
old side, and looks older, but would be difficult to pass up without
first getting the urge to take on a kung-fu master. Quite the
exquisite excreta, and much like a good wine...gets better the more
you drink. To date, no two Govt Alpha works have managed to sound
even vaguely similar, save that the intensity rarely strays from
harsh, and that the raw materials are always extremely raw.
Doze is no exception.
Side Alpha-Wave features duo-layered, Masonna-inspired vocalizations,
screaming and laughing their way over a dozen decrepit dishwashers
stuck on funnel-rinse. Two tracks later, Yasutoshi's gutbusting howl
gives way to the motherload: dense, rumbling throughpass
interference, annoyed highway cops with corroded mufflers and
malfunctioning PA systems, a washing machine clogged full of small
guillotines and overexuberant morris dancers, three half-eaten vacuum
cleaner repairmen hooked on suck-fetish, and a blow dryer or two. The
staff microwave may also have been going, but I couldn't hear it
under all that infernal racket.
Side Beta-Wave ventures beyond the scope of unrefined wank, exploring
the more subtle, and much less durable quarters of 'Your Funeral.'
Here ultra-drab, toilet-effected vocals are enveloped by several
strep-throated, stuttering Gregorian monks bemoaning another bad hair
day...or maybe something got lost in the translation. I think I will
dub this 'cyber-noise,' only because nothing else I've heard comes
nearly as close to the mark. Shortly after, the monks, in mute
supplication, trade in their souls for some effervescent, psychedelic
oscillators and a trio of castrato Tibetan buddhists noisily slapping
eachother five for discovering yet another means of channelling
static electricity. I think it has something to do with yaks, but
don't quote me on that. Defying all odds, drab gets drabber,
deterioration degenerates into rabid flocks of ostracized pigeons
shelling drive-thru pastry patrons for breadcrumbs, and the
abovementioned shitter overflows with small, furry, bucktoothed
save-the-trees protestors screaming for asswipe. I can guarantee you
won't be able to sit for weeks.
 
 
Korperschwache - Ovencleaner C-60 (Monotremata)
Dead Angel guru RK Felps, the man of the many pseudonyms, gave us a
taste of Ovencleaner on the brain-buggering Americanoise compilation
(MSNP). Thanks to heavy-handed remixing from the esteemed Mr. Roemer,
however, I had only a vague sense of what I'd be getting before the
tape arrived. What I'm getting, it turns out, is quite a lot of
headache. Now, I know how the guru feels about excessive overload of
harsh noise, so I didn't expect something this strong. Even so,
Ovencleaner does work its way up to the hard noise ever so slowly and
tenderly. 'your spattered spine' is a subdued, chaotic jumble of
psychedelic, feeding-back guitar drones, inconsequential percussive
and vocal loops, inane bigboned skydiving harpies, and faint metallic
kling-klang.
Unfortunately, this does nothing to prepare you for the 20-minute
rockslide headcrush titled 'sand swallower,' a scourging blast of
exploding mineshafts, writhing toxicity test-applicants, and tragic
workers' compensation protest marches. 'shiteater' is the clincher,
though, and proof of faithful devotion to the NoiseHead: heavily
charged sheets of oscillating aluminum foil, lead-footed public
transit employees shot up on antipsychotics, and a telling
industrial-strength flavour of trash compaction, demolition derbies
and subway collisions. Economically viable coprophiles are advised
exercise caution, lest they be disqualified from nuclear holocaust
insurance applicability. Atomic genocide is no joke, ladies and
gentlemen. It's definitely closer to a bad pun.

 
Shunt/Musicide - split cassette ltd. 50 (Kill Music)
Stunning double-barrelled course in music appreciation, the most 
comprehensive of its kind, from two of the world's leading
authorities on philanthropy. Theirs is an admittedly-unorthodox
methodology, but one which may be summarized in four simple words:
screw and be screwed. Sure, it may sound simple in theory, but is
painfully difficult to apply in practice; details below.
According to Musicide, the subtle elegance of arranged sound can only
be fully experienced by placing a plastic garbage bag over one's
head, tying the open end with telephone wire, and repeating 'if life 
is a movie, will someone please roll the fucking credits.' I gave the
project my all, but just when I was making progress, passed out. Woke
up and discovered my stereo had been smashed to pieces, and that
someone had spray-painted, 'next time it's your kneecaps,
motherfucker!' on the wall. Didn't know what that meant until I
looked in the mirror later and discovered that my hair had fallen
out, blood running out my ears, and a swastika carved into my
forehead. I was a marked man, but now, finally, guilt-free suicide
was an option.
Professor Shunt, in the meanwhile, urges the aspiring audiophile to
fornicate with every single human being on the face of the earth.
To achieve this rather ambitious end, he recommends hip-replacement
surgery (probably, I expect, involving some sort of zirconium alloy),
an oversize strap-on vac-u-jac (beware of 'socket rot') and a
face-down, twenty billion dB stack set on overload. One must then
proceed to throb one's make-shift gristle to the extraordinarily
obtuse gyrations of the earth, and the rest, as they shall be saying,
is rather nasty. A pleasant surprise, to say the least, even without
the tinnitus.
 
 
Macronympha - Pure Shit turd ltd. 51 (MSNP)
After years of screwing about with the watered down stuff you have to
play on your stereo, at last, the pure shit! Packaged in a tin subtly
labelled 'shit inside,' Pure was originally intended as a special
listening supplement for the Diarhettic Discharges thing complements
of Macrobacillus. Due to inadequate communication and lack of
foresight, however, the people at the copy shop apparently had a
problem with the content.
I've had some of my own problems with overzealous customs folks
opening and confiscating packages, so I kinda hoped they'd open this
one up. Sadly, revenge will have to wait. Still, even with all of
these warnings, I didn't really get the hint. I thought the
shit-reference was one of those, y'know, metaphors. Suffice it to
say, if it looks like shit, and it smells like shit, it's shit. No
need to taste it, too.
 
 
 
Deadline Records
17010 Blairwood
Houston, TX
USA  77049
 
 
Fever Pitch Music
c/o Jason Verhagen
1108 E. Capitol Dr.
Appleton, WI
USA  54911
 
 
Kubitsuri Tapes
498-8 Kamo
Kitagata, Motosugun
Gifu 501-04
Japan
 
 
XERXES
c/o Yasutoshi Yoshida
2-3 Fujimori-Samataku
1-4-5 Wakabayashi, Setagaya-ku
Tokyo 154
Japan
 
 
Monotremata
815-A Brazos Street
#515 Austin, TX
USA  78701
 
e-mail: moonunit@eden.com
 
 
Kill Music
6132 Romaine
Los Angeles, CA
USA  90038
 
 
Mother Savage Noise Productions
c/o Joseph Roemer
1180 Colgate Drive
Monroeville, PA  15146 USA
 
e-mail: lf01+@andrew.cmu.edu
 
 
enjoy!
 
 
 
Jason
---
"I will be under control of The Mikawa,
 Anybody helps me, now!" 
		-- T.Mikawa (T.Sakaguchi)