‘Exposing the Ribcage’ is a pile-up live Noise collaboration involving BT.HN (Sam McKinlay of The Rita and Josh Rose of Sick Buildings) and Sistrenatus (H MacFarlane). This six-handed way to kill an hour leaves little slack in this massive track, and the tripling of efforts means any idiosyncratic misstep is redressed by the oversight of the averages. This is not to say all we get is 65 minutes of maximized dissonance. Well-preserved are the lunar canyons and swirling cloudstorms so vital to such classical noise swell. Further elaborated are the cybernetic feeds and mechanistic rhythms which mark this mode of dystopic sci-fi, consumed as it is in a hairy organic overgrowth ala STALKER and the loathing between flesh and machinery (The Rita an obvious point of comparison, but also Luasa Raelon and Redrot come to mind). Incorporating two modes of excess – the first a nearly-orbital churn of filth, the second an interplay of bleating electrons and high-frequency static, spaced in long intervals – the hour maintains without too much promiscuity, and though it would probably be a stronger release if the session was chopped and punched-up with terser editing, the entire hulking mass keeps the teeth engaged from front to back. A pro-CDr of 250 numbered, embossed copies in a metallic-printed sleeve.
Existence Establishment CDr
$10
HERE
‘Freedom of Noise’ is latest from the sometimes project of Hanno Leichtmann called Static. “Sometimes” because it’s been about 6 years since a Static release, despite a solid run on former label Center City Offices (a first indicator of the sort of sound going on here). Composing almost entirely in loops, Leichtmann extends the pop minimalism of Terry Riley to achieve a similar ecstasy and overt timbre of technology. Though the Introduction establishes the method in bare demonstration, there is not a track that follows which doesn’t add a layer or 3 of human voice or solo instrument, to break the endless patterns which otherwise paper the stereofield. Looping strings, brass, winds and voice, the sounds are naturally soft and harmony comes so easy as to require regular surface abrasions (by most definitions, the only “noise” from which freedom is regulated in relation to). Icy “Stubby Fingers” mixes minor-keys and scratches to achieve a Hood-like IDM, this juxtaposed hard against the proggishness of the title-track, a manifesto of sorts transmitted through the new wave of Thomas Dolby. “The Boy Who Ran into the Sun” is a definite glimpse into what Bowie would be up to had he offset his career ahead 3 decades: marked-up distinctly with warm earth tones and metallic precision, the track threads saxophone through beads of percussion, electronic points and backing tweets to achieve a sedate, afro-downbeat with suitably spirited story-telling. A nearly danceable beat develops over the following ornamental pairing “Sad Rocket” and “Sister Pain”, which gets interrupted rather aggressively by the noise/sublime/noise collage “Collage, Holz, Papier 2”, something of an overstated manifest on methods which will likely shake loose more fans of the pop inflection than gain adherents wishing for a rougher edge. Waiting to be filed between Matmos and TV on the Radio, the Booksish “Corazon, Cristal” combines glitch with nouveau tribalism to achieve a very pleasing, resonant yet clean pop sound which doesn’t cut costs on the rhythmic scaffolding.