Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Tasseomancy #2

Roman Birdhouse 3" mini cdr - Dsic



First thing that strikes you is the overtly tactile nature of this latest dsic release, there’s something of an apparitional whiff of Sindre Bjerga about it as processing boundaries smudge into more ‘hands on’ realities…

Machine frictions and industrial indigestions start the disc… a ping ponging of mechanized rhythms, counter pointed by a rattle of skeleton chop sticks … later drowned out in bassy bulks and slow bled manipulations…

Track three shifts the focus in an unravelling of brittle shapes… sweeps of fractured china dripping in the condensation of masked breath… the grain, overtly visual, like an asthmatic after party clean up… a bag dragging enema of broken crockery, turpentine hex and eerie taps…

Track four is more processor locked, grabbing your ear in a painful squeeze from the offset , dancing out on a multi textural circuit squeak, squirting out Barbarella bubbles and lush explosive colours …effect envelopes within envelopes … a transforming Russian dolly of transistorised mangleaze … I could happily listen to a whole album of this, a true highpoint …

The album closer is a droney one, with a loose string resonance… drylined acerbic, growing out in threatening spurts and slowly wrung psychodramas, those mirror written déjà vu’s upping sinister tensions…

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Mantrasphere (12 track cd)

Hello Eaters of The Rottenmeats!

An advance copy of a self-published debut album has found its way into Mr Bucca’s hand, and I have to say I’ve been mightily impressed with it. Readers and regulars of Rottenmeats will have to suspend their normal musical extremes to hear this one out, but bear with me. (You’ll note as well a serious tone to my keyboard meanderings today – I’ve spent a very pleasant hour zoning out to the following…)



Produced by Barry Andrews of Shriekback and XTC fame, the album ‘Mantrasphere’ by Hugh Carroll contains 12 tracks of sublime head music: acoustic guitar entangled with chants and mantras in a completely beguiling and entrancing way.

I had a chat with Hugh the other day regarding the development of the album. It found its genesis when he suffered a serious fall whilst working as a circus performer in 1991. This experience lead Hugh through a long (and ongoing) process of recovery, the traces of which resonate through the music. During that process, he has developed a deep love of Buddhism which enabled him to cope with both the trauma and the illness which followed. (Rottenmeats lovers of drone and musical repetition take note – the roots of much of what you enjoy find a resonance in some of the practices of Eastern culture - and you might find the cross-over extremely interesting.)

So, with Mantrasphere you have a genre (and prejudice) defying collision – this isn’t anodine 'relaxation' music but a passionate search for the universal and transcendent in the midst of the personal and tragic, an artists manifestation of an inner journey. I’ve been blown away by it – not only is it very moving in its own right, but it forced me to take a longer look at my own musical preconceptions and restrictions.

Please have a look at Hugh’s website for some clips and sample tracks here. The album will be fully released in the next few weeks – and I’m hoping will be followed up with some dates (I’m suggesting he contacts The Croft, as the intimate venue of the front room would be ideal).

Sam Bucca

Thought Forms Picture Disc



...Translating this from teeny weeny cd was a lot of work, but well worth it... really chuffed with the results... Didn't realise it was going to be so limited, but that makes it even more desirable... You can grab a copy over at Invada or Cargo...



Saturday, December 11, 2010

New Goo



some new sketchbook work... this was inspired by Levitating Discs

Friday, December 10, 2010

Dusted



...the fairytale is now drain water

Thursday, December 09, 2010

Η ΜΑΝΑ ΣΟΥ ΕΙΝΑΙ Ο ΠΑΤΕΡΑΣ ΣΟΥ - Είσαι η Αδερφή Σου CDR



From its grinning 'Cheshire Cat' front to the wacked outcomes of the disc, this is an amazing piece of work. A hopscotch of post-industrialised swarfings and weird balladry. A peculiar blend that scuttles within your head with an unholy light, the combined talents of Placenta Popeye, Slicing Grandpa and Opera Mort.

Treading on your notions of tunefulness with bad ass inventiveness, creating a dismembered disco-tech of jarring angles and vocal impairments, where the distinctive charms of El-g aren’t too far away… Whether slurring his Parisian vowels or yelping like an amphetamined puppy, he injects serious amounts of fun into the proceedings as well as a fair bit of unhinged terror...

There’s even a foray into pop, where the cut 'n' stapled sound has a wicked gleam of Palais Schaumburg about it …then just as you think you've had all your treats, it slams into this TG-esque anthem of hoodoo thuggery and snarling bass that lights your head right up... I tell you, by the time the disc quivers out on trembling machine limbos and bendy bass motors, you find yourself with an irresistible urge to hit repeat...

A shot in the eye for people that moan on about the future of music.



Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Fire Drips Skull



Out just in time for the festering season... this houses another fine slice of stereo voodoo from the ever prolific Monsieur Chainsaw... It's been a real honour supplying the eye candy, hope it goes someway towards describing the scorch of the wares within... been a fan ever since hearing a B/W Progression cassette in Gary's shop back in the arse end of the nineties(?)... Conjuring the wretched, whistling all phantasmagorical... titles illumiskating your skull, as if symbiotic with the quivering shapes in your inner ear...

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Transpersonals, Radiant Sounds of Dust, Vena Cava and Attack Horse

The Croft - Thursday 19th Nov

Sooooooooo, Sam Bucca is back in the Rottenmeats musical refrigerator after a several year gap in which his bottle was opened but the contents rejected. However, he's still within his 'Best Before Date' (currently slated as 2053) and ready to share with you his sometimes mouldy, pungent views and reviews. Drop in a couple of beans, and light up a flamer....

Salutations, browsers and carousers of the world of noise. Last night (the 19th of Nov) Saw master Cloudboy and myself saunter down to the bright lights of of Bristol to enjoy a night's stimulation at the ever fantastic Croft, a venue catering for the widest range of extreme and experimental music. My personal mission was to witness Vena Cava in action - but it was a bonus to discover that our jaunt coincided with a wider night of entertainment.



Already in full-flow when we arrived were the three-piece Transpersonals, cranking out a psychadelic pop/rock melange: Really good - jagged flanged Voodoo-vibed guitar and some excellent phat synthetic stringed bass work (played on a historic fender jazz a-like complete with 'ashtray' and finger board, Lord be praised!) - and topped off with reassuringly bearded and groovetastic syncopated drumming. Its a shame they seemed slightly apologetic to be there - especially as it seemed they drew the biggest overall crowd of the night. Com'on chaps! Get thee the confidence of knowing you're good (coz you is - a view perchance shared by the attractive young ladies who seemed to be there for your delectation and distraction!).



It was on a wave of pleasantly surprised euphoria, we then nipped back next door to catch Radiant Sounds of Dust - a delightfully shambolic slacker stoneresque multinational collective of noiseniks who were crashing out an early Mercury Rev styled sonic meander (despite some issues with broken strings) and the fact that the Croft crowd were constantly having to ping-pong backwards and forwards between the from and back bar. It was as frustrating as the inevitable clash of bands at a major festival - nay more so, as these are the kind of artists who'd benefit from a proper airing to new audiences. Its fair to say that the Croft was hardly heaving, so all the more of a shame that each band's own 'renta mob' didn't have a realistic chance of broadening their horizons by seeing something they hadn't necessarily catered for. (Please take note Croft - Sam Bucca believes that more is sometimes less!) Anyway, they were good - and apparently getting better by the gig. Sunburnt Hand Of The Man watch out.



It was with regret that I had to leave RSoD after only a couple of numbers in order to catch Vena Cava. Now I have to express a bias here, as I've had the pleasure of meeting the charming trio of Bambi, Charlie and Mardt before. It was therefore very gratifying to hear that their brand of trancy looped/Loop rock was up the Bucca street, combining hints of MBV, a squeeze of metal, bar chords on the six string and chords on the bass dispersal unit. Charlie was an alluring flail of hair, sticks and beat, Mardts weeny finger's flew accurately and rapidly over the fat wires and Bambi successfully battled a detuned guitar to crack out a succession of rhythmic drones. (Only constructive but uncritical comment from Mr Bucca is that I though Bambi's vocals sounded a bit lost at one stage - I wonder if she'd benefit from an on-stage monitor?) All in all, top stuff and worth the wait to finally catch up with them!





Last on were Attack Horse. As I catch up with middle age, its especially reassuring to witness people who've torn up more calendars than I have still cutting it, mixing it up and shoving it down our ears. By no means a noise band, Attack Horse were an artsy, quirky outfit very much in the mould of Talking Heads and The Wolfgang Press - with a slightly camp dose of humour and a nod and a wink. Here were a bunch, who despite being headliners saw the funny side of having to call in the audience from next door, who were slaking their throats at the bar, post Vena Cava. I very much enjoyed their set - and would recommend a visit to their very excellent website



So, all in all a night of fun, frolics and reflection. A big thanks to the Croft for continuing to champion what's freshest/most challenging/ unpredictable and ultimately, enjoyable in the Bristol arts music scene - and a big shame on the apathetic shite which passes for human biomass, the goons and aesthetic voids who'd sooner stuff their ears with X-Factor pap, pants skate metal and frikken tribute bands. May your Vena Cavas rupture, may you be mauled by an angry Shire and may the dust of your decayed corpse blow to to the four winds - yer Transpersonal skills are severely lacking.

And with that attempt at a punny and topical denument, Mr Sam Bucca must retire back into the drinks cabinet and pour himself another cliche.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Pussy Patrol - Very First Show au Gambetta CDr



This grabs you by the short n curlies, raw and unapologetic. The Pussy Patrol girls are living it fast and furious... the guitars rubbing the sweat soaked drums and gishy cymbals up the wrong way, all topped by plenty of incoherent tonsil flinging... It's a gorgeous mess of the highest order, and the crowd recorded here are totally loving it... The heat coming off those two chord growlings and out of sync drums is insane... at points, the threesome come across like an intoxicated Afrirampo...

12 mins in, they pull off a sarcastic cover of Be My Baby, which starts surprisingly tight, but quickly unravels to burst it's seams in overloaded fuzz... There's even a song called Lick My Periods... Man, this is shambolically excellent stuff that ends far too quickly for my liking... what's more it comes with a foldout Xerox of the girls in action...

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

Kassette Kulture 32# - Live Vol 4 - Vom Grill



Vom Grill is throat singing a deep and medicated sideshow... slightly comedic in places... with Dylan Nyoukis splutter and Tazartes yelps... gargling... reverberating out this low end Sunn0))) type vibe... a sudden burst of crash test electrics, putting pay to those dark cloister plumes... adrift in snapping mousetraps and sniping slaughter ... enigmatically cutting back to a Zen pool of tweety gimp glitch and clanking brassware... The flip continues the speaker damage, with mechanized callipers skipping over 'contacted' cavities and whistling calamity... ending in a nice madrigal sign off that gets the crowd cheering. Dennis Tyfus sure packs a lot into twelve minutes.



Here's a video from the show... as the camera pans over the crowd you might just catch a glimpse of Jo Tanz recording the set...

Monday, November 08, 2010

The Dry Eye of Sauron



if you should ever accidently wash your ipod, pop it into a pot of dry rice for a week, not only do you get a pretty pattern but the bloody thing still works!

Sunday, November 07, 2010

Ded Edz

Lydiard Lights





Wednesday, November 03, 2010

Sonic Sanctuary this Saturday



A musick n artz extravaganza...

With Friends like these (10 years of pissing in the wind) - Various






A loony 99 trk CDr spanning over 66mins, the longest, clocking in at a gargantuan 2 minutes, while the majority scrape in at the 30 sec mark. Not as attention deficit as you may think... flows out with a strange logic of its own... like a soundtrack to a weird road trip where the hitch-hikers bend the journey out of all recognition... throwing out plenty of obscure emotions, introspective canker and noisy scree... A beautifully damaged piece of work from the likes of Bjerg/Iverson, Dylan Nyoukis, Anders Gjerde, Joey Chainsaw, Cock ESP and many more... only 99 copies...


The Sum and the Difference - Dollboy Meets Sone Institute



Pure chill-out… an excellent diffusion of talents from newcomer Dollboy and a firm favourite of mine, the Sone Institute… the pace is dreamily sedate, as field recordings and vinyl keepsakes mingle with the acoustic and vocal moonbeams... concocting the familiar with tints of subtle magic… jarring edges blended out, fed into a soft focused Emmanuelle cinescope… Sounds becoming a scatter of dandelion seeds drifting through the headphones… headphones being the best way to experience this EP’s lush sensibilities… a definite cure for all you insomniacs out there.



Hellvete, US Girls and Silvester Anfang II





Monday 1st Nov - The Croft, Bristol

Been eager to catch US Girls, since listening to Megan's set on the Free Music Archive. Live, she wasn't as abrasive as I was expecting...way more polished. Using tapes as source material, she chopped them into sequences... herded their nuances, enveloped the beats into lush little loops, which she sang within... a bare boned kick box of ideas... her vocals sweet n slightly sinister, like Alison from the Cranes, or at other times, a seductive mirage of some late 60's backing singer, really beguiling stuff...



Before her, came Hellvete, a solo off shoot of the Anfang posse… That droney yurt ambience he was giving out, certainly had a strange flavour in the near darkness. The hypno-70’s lamp shade on screen was full of deceptive realities that bled into the bowed overlay of banjo …A blissful palimpsest of wolf hair and cross hatched blister… the density cutting out to a country tinged twang finale...









Regrouping, those Belgium boy headliners Silvester Anfang II, rode out a solid kraut fuelled riff monster of a sound, hard angular guitar u-turns sparring with the sway, the bass tapping into some pleasant semi gloom... members interchanging their wares... giving out differing drum tactics... wavering silhouettes in front of the projected psych candy, cascades of colour, volatile shapes, naked girls n skulls all adding to the experience... the perfect excuse for some crazy fool dancing.



Was feeling a bit shy for some reason, so didn’t chat much with the boys… but a quick chin-wag with Hellvete revealed that a new slab of Anfang vinyl is in the works… cheekily I suggested it should be 4hr box set…

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Swans and James Blackshaw

Thursday 28th October, KoKo, London





Koko was the place, just down from TOPY shoe repairs, GPO's favourite I bet... The music hall decor adding to the occasion - quite grand and rococo-ed, if a little bit crammed. The stage seemed to dwarf Mr Blackshaw, that night's support, as he plied his wondrous tri-guitar perspectives and multiple time signatures... my head hurt trying to keep up with all that fancy Fu Manchu finger work, even if it failed to silence the inane chatter from the crowd...





The Swans, when they finally hit the stage at 10pm... were 'astounding'... taut and muscular... a testosterone fuelled Goliath, banked by a duo of explosive drumming from Cop Shoot Cop's Phil Puleo and Thor's percussive inventiveness... Insanely LOUD... the show opener was incredible... a lap steel drone cut up with hammered tubes followed by the full team smashing the fuck out of their equipment in unison... an unholy chorus of trombone seeping out of the edges... This you tube moment doesn't capture the extreme pummelling experienced...



but it'll give you an idea...you really had to be there, immersed in that racket. When they finally caved in... they left my ears all trebly n vacuum packed...





The sheer weight/force of the music was overpowering verging on brutal. Everybody on stage looked seriously mean... Westberg in particular, looked like he was chewing a wasp as he gazed out on the audience with complete contempt, wished I could hear his guitar more.





The new stuff was amazing, No Words / No Thoughts, Jim glistened with focused intent, a few old time surprises taking you unawares, plenty that I was completely clueless about... no mistaking their rendition of l Crawled though - Gira's ashtray throat carving out the words like pounds of flesh... making you an uncomfortable spectator... 'Put your hands round my throat, now choke me'... 'You're my father I obey you'... That bass/guitar mallet, sheer perfection... the drums reduced to a sloth heavy, corpse slap. His words, fists, smacking home the torrent, torment... later he was booming 'Jesus... come down' mouth all contracted gasp... his arms cruciformed... 'Jesus, Jesus Christttt... ' Anyone else would have been laughed off stage by the absurdity of it... but with Gira... you were half expecting the Son of God to oblige...



A show to remember... no lacklustre... every track bristled with a seething fury that was gobsmackingly beautiful and utterly unique.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Opéra Mort



Clubland Cancers from Paree

Saturday, October 23, 2010