Refine more Format Format. Items in search results. Search refinements Categories. New single by the man they call Chaumpers, following a silent decade on the mid-American plains. Guaranteed to tickle any and all fans of the following: wistful and reedy guitar melodies, ineptly recorded; boneheaded mystic poetry over a taut beat; murky, smoky runs thru an Andalusian cadence or 8-bar boogie; or any basement-grade tomfoolery, in general.
With and Without Sam
As illuminating as ever. Six micro-compositions by Caroline Ehretique Ondes Martenot, voice, piano, analog synth, electronics, and whip and Ogrob analog synth, wind, chiropteran echolocation, railway signal, screams, electronics , oscillating between musique brut, musique concrete and captured nightmares. Hand-made sleeve, linocut on both sides. Twelve-page full-color booklet.
Our latest Narratively story isn't available online - we printed the entire thing on a tote bag!
A magnificent self-released 7-inch by one of the South's most stunning visionaries, Todd Wesley Emmert, whose motto is "Misinterpreting the Scriptures Since In hand-colored sleeves, with two inserts, all adorned with Emmert's eyeball-teasing artwork. His music moves from busted country songs and scowling barroom anthems to long-tone, hypnotic instrumentals and propulsive, beat-driven pieces without a hiccup….
Formed in by guitarist G. Stinkbug consciously chose to complete their line-up with a drummer who could groove -- percussionist Scott Amendola. Nasty rock screech that sacrifices not an ounce of the grace and finesse required of tamers of gigantic, wild sandworms. But The Dead C are no bummer. They have always sought liberation from shallow and easy rock conventions; amid the murk of cardboard box guitars, underwater vocals, and ramshackle drumming, a new consciousness emerges. Rather, the group uses the films as an element to stimulate improvisation, like an additional player, juxtaposing film and music in a real-time performance mixed-media collage.
Plus, a couple of soundtrack excerpts and a John Lennon cover featuring the late Epic Soundtracks. Imagine half a dozen freak-folk ensembles congealing into a psychedelic din of Borbetomagan proportions. The CD consists of three immense tracks, taken from a three-hour session, lovingly recorded by the Pulled Out mobile unit, with mastering analysis by DJ Beefcurtains.
The startling songs on Transitions flit between sculpted guitar riffs and measured, just-shy-of-lush synth-pop with wry lyrics delivered in guileless tones. Stephen Clover and Boston artist Howard Stelzer first swapped recordings from their respective locales -- cars going by, planes overhead, birds in the bushes, just humdrum suburban stuff.
Likewise, tapes of Boston cars going by were mixed with NZ cars going by.
"ON THE OLD ROAD" WITH MR. RUSKIN.1 - ProQuest
After it was all processed, scrambled and reassembled, it wound up having a certain melancholy feel. A party record, basically. Off-kilter loops and crossfades seem derived from a Waza Ensembles competition held during a calamity on a construction barge. Tape and electronic deep fry, opening for Aaron DIlloway here in Brighton back in Can it? Dense electronic processes mingle with field recordings of machines defective and dying of old age. Alarm klaxons and calls to arms do not overpower the soundscape so much as wanly ooze from some anemic sky sphincter worthy of an Arch Oboler thriller.
Nauseated screeches dry-heave at strings of metal scraping marrow-less bones into bite-sized chunks. Swarms of clinking locusts disperse above fields of plastic thrift-store detritus getting overrun from all angles by locomotives locked in emergency deceleration mode.
taylor.evolt.org/kudic-sant-boi-de.php Flightless birds elongate their synchronized death squawks and amplify their internal doom. Molecules of electronic corruption wheeze complaints to no one. Violins groan with the vigor of an old rocking chair where a corpse has been dumped. Unattended radios transmit useless advice. Drones and pulsations slowly fall apart and atomize, a mirror image of decay and putrid nothingness enveloping untethered astronauts.
A portrait of the void, disembodied space globules and all. Massive tape collages dejectedly shuffle through hopelessness and despair.
- The Siege Of Venice.
- Up in the North, Down in the South!
- Kann Suchtprävention in der Grundschule schon etwas bewirken? (German Edition).
- Darren Hanlon?
- Playing With Fire.
- Shop now and earn 2 points per $1.
- Fools Crow: Wisdom and Power.
Percussion-only pieces seem to be aiming for regal, yet achieve debasement. Slowed-down, amplified voices reinforce the feeling of beaten exhaustion. Tempos come from objects getting dragged clumsily across the floor and field recordings of children, machines, and workers.
- Explorers Guide Hudson Valley & Catskill Mountains: Includes Saratoga Springs & Albany (Eighth Edition) (Explorers Complete).
- Hello world!.
- La ciencia nuestra de cada día (La Ciencia Para Todos) (Spanish Edition)?
- With and Without Sam: Volume The Whole Bally Lot by Bettina Jonic!
The same mound of objects, electric gizmos and detritus from Rapture Piles is here as well as some of the same tape loops and answering machine microcassettes , along with new recordings of throat-clutchingly spastic electric guitar noise, claustrophobic violin, plainly declaimed words, reel-to-reel tape, and more decrepit toys. Comes with a reproduction of one of the original 24 tickets to the never-performed theater piece.
Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - F. The ingredients manifest includes: jumbush; damaged sitar; shamisen-type thing; kalimba seemingly custom-made for Richard Keel; suitcase zipper; messed-up log with big lead bolts, wire, and sounding gourd attached like a Gambian ko that could double as a cudgel for a midget Viking ; metal lid from tea canister; ScratchBox; air mattress pump; acoustic guitar; toy ukulele; flutish wind-instrument made of wood; Velcro; big exercise ball; bells; lychee-shaped keychain; metal ruler; plastic lid from a bottle of hot flash pills; homemade zither; cat toy; aloe vera gel; mild dyspepsia; and wood scraped with pushpins.
These quiet, understated recordings are considerably gilded by overdubs of loops, tape manipulation, found noises, remote individual performances by farflung members of the group. With as many lop-sided bleats per minute as L. Toys, scratchy LPs of old Vietnamese showtunes, various nube-tubes, the forced laughter of a little person courtesy of Werner Herzog, and kitchen objects are some of the reassuring soundposts in this chiaroscuro dungeon, blinking between the cavernous scrape of dejected janitorial tasks, the feeble thuds of someone or something getting dragged across cobblestones caked with layer upon sickening layer of effluvia, and tiny metallic splats scurrying like immortal tapirs from one corner to the other.
Disembodied voices speak not so much to communicate but to keep the creeping dread of the speaker at bay. The damaged soliloquy of the permanently distracted gets a thorough examination here, bolstered by the weirdly spirited yelps of the doomed and murmurs from a decomposing mule born under a wandering star.
Throughout their patched-together network, spastic clunks engage in intimate congress with mechanical gasps, chokeholds, grunts, and the struggles of the restrained, rising and falling in parallel with irrational wheedle pulsations and hopeless density. Remote controlled drones buzz in and out of view, according to the trajectories of nonsensical flight-paths. Peculiar grinding from homemade spirit-breakers known in the trade as aluminum maidens morph from dispassionate sketches of abscess-befouled meadowlands to up-close chakra punctures and hi-sheen abscess pierce to collapsed thunder from failed Russian barge maneuvers.
Includes industrial expressionist collage. Skull-bending free improv waterlogged by tape manipulation, body-snatched sound collage, and gaseous disorientation; off-center guitar wobble impaled on spikes of fuzz; relatively meditative spaz-outs, household objects, tape noise, waves of fweemp; apocalyptic, maniacally saturated and self-engorged Echoplex; lascivious caliph vocals, the moist fwapping of a bicyle-powered chicken-plucking machine, field recordings, and disturbing phlegm loops; murky, impaired fidelity.
More inscrutable than a murder at an old-fashioned smorgasbord. Includes industrial expressionist collage insert. Book-ending both sides are excerpts from an after-hours, no-audience, guerrilla action recorded in a multistory, split-level university student union, using hurled cafeteria cutlery, defective boomboxes and answering machines blaring prerecorded tape, the public piano, and a variety of unidentified flailing objects. Micro-episodic tape pieces with a head-spinning variety of appropriated voices, noises, electronics, music and sound effects merge with field recordings, cut-ups, loops, improv, live performances, and a range of cover versions that includes a Korean plastic surgery infomercial, bona fide poetry, a book review, a YouTube waif, and Van Morrison.
A dazzling and peculiar assemblage. Lawrence Crane - Craniostomy Vol. The apocalyptic tale covers survival techniques such as boosting toilet paper from public restrooms, transporting hitchhikers and potentially lethal alien larvae, avoiding capture by whomever or whatever is pursuing them, and finally mutating into some new kind of disturbed consciousness. The excerpts from their semi-private recording sessions preserved here with minimal effort on a boombox are pensive, quasi—industrial meditations peppered with dire and distorted melodies of immaculate brevity and the musings of disoriented hicks.
The unhinged landscapes navigated by Serious Problmz would make Diane Arbus blush -- musical and poetic territories littered with paranoia, dread, desolation, emotional and psychological predation, spookily anthropomorphic farm animals, and objects of inexplicable provenance.
Related WITH AND WITHOUT SAM - Volume 1: A DITTY FULL OF OLD MUCK
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