Saturday, May 29, 2010

Coffee Cataract

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Coptic Splat

Nipping off to the big smoke this weekend for Mr Tibet's birthday blow out... no doubt he'll prove he's still as vital as ever, but one thing for certain, I won't be squeezing into no Noddy suit in celebration.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Untitled in Green

Fire Burn Me Clean

<a href="">Fire Burn Me Clean by Thought Forms</a>

Hiroshima Bird Market CD-R

A train is clickety clacking through those amp modulated cracks... the thump of tin drums … hooves on the cattle rail…. pictures of one armed drummer boys…

The tea has this subtle perfumed vibe, cutting through the density… seeping out on a slow evaporation, dull hooks give out muffled signals as if hungry wolves are smiling behind woolly hides. An assemblage of abstracts, glass eyed gleam… The amp is pissing out bad TV receptions and shaking dentures. Symbols shovelling their way in, the butchered, stitching together in zig-zags. The strange lights of old Europe bending in deviant climax, chewing over suspended dirt. This primitive Neue Welles Deutschland motif hits, accompanied by clattering mattress strings and haunted metal…. The dynamics are beautifully ramshackled, the cymbal shivers giving it an insane Krishna overdrive… hail hitting home.

Track two is a more subdued affair, preparing you for the torn fruit of the final instalment where everything is blown to fuck. Wrapped in this feedback miasma, odd sounds warp, make a break for it. Those fast forward funk warbles are delicious, whilst a mumbled narration dribbles out from deep in the mix. The textures here have a disturbed life force, twisting chalk torsos caught in nitrate shadows... an insomniac beauty … collecting its own injuries in the scream of exhaustion. Some loose jazz chord-age slips around…elastic nose dives and pitch shifted ruminations are handkerchief wrapped right up to the cut off…

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Spider Babies

Sunday, May 16, 2010


Friday, May 14, 2010


Found this the other day down the local car boot, rubbing shoulders with a load of mediocre drivel, … that lime green Xerox aesthetic getting me all excited…. Thought it was gonna be weirder... but as compilations go, turned out to be a decent slice of mid 80’s punk fallout, released on the Melksham based Sub-hu-mans Bluurg stable... says so on the back in a hand drawn calligraphics… Back then, the town made the top ten for the UK's most violent places to live , even if by today's standards the acts here sound a bit tame…

The pics of the bands on the flip are like little time capsules, bubbles of mid eighties swagger…always love a bit of nostalgia but not in a twee Hovis way. Scooting round the internet for info has been patchy, revealing only a few measly details… still chasing the vapour trails… amazingly enough you can still grab a damaged (ironic hey) copy over on the Subhuman's site for 4 quid…

Tucked in amongst all the aggro punk basslines and spittle… is this New Zealand band called K4, who flying nun apparently failed to sign...

sorta more gothy than the rest, plying a nice spread of spidery chords and boy/girl dynamics... that ‘kiwi animal’ track sounding uncannily like Prolapse... sadly looks like they just dissolved away, soon after supplying these two four-track recordings...

Got me dusting off things I haven't played for donkeys years... started a bit of a punk revival… Sub-humans, Bob Hope To Die and lots of golden oldies… plus some Dutch post-punk I picked up over in a Belgium comic shop a year back, even plundered Bow Wow Wow’s back catalogue… jeez, I thought they were the bees knees back in 82…

On another note, spied this, complete with lyric sheet… the pristine gloss of the contents had me salivating… but the seller was too savvy to part with it for what was left in my pocket...

More Dead Gum

Here's the latest offering from Pan’s solo project Dead Gum… Haven’t had chance to listen yet, but if his debut is anything to go by it’s gonna be on constant rotation over at Cloudboy HQ.

via outside my window

Thursday, May 13, 2010


an insane amount of re-issues me thinks...

Sunday, May 09, 2010

Saturday, May 08, 2010

Pdrr, Fireflowers and Euhedral

Port Mahon, Oxford 4th May

Pdrr 's guitar sounded like tinnitus shears skating breeze blown dunes, at one point the strings were transformed into a bunch of giggling girls served up on an industrial wheeze. Occasionally invaded by startled insects, the alien voices and edgy tensions were thrown into a delayed and echoed morass like sacrificial offerings. Despite a few tech hiccups, his set was rather cool, if tantalisingly brief.

Got seriously lost in those circular riffs the Fire Flowers were plying, vaporous trails tinted in eastern joss stick curl... the bowed guitar sounding like a haunted kettle or aquatic mammal ... the voice distended, a chantry of blurred jewels orbiting... the flora unfolding from the delay soaked dew . Propelled to noisier realms, everything contracted, as the ghosts began seeping out of the floorboards on the bright tongues of guitar and rusted violin. The fruits of this new collaboration between Joey and Bambi were blinding, like the Cranes without the aggressive mood swings, or a heat hazed Indian jewelry falling through sacred root labyrinths.

Euhedral assembled his tunes from pieces of bowed guitar and flickers of electric dystopia , getting orchestral, weathered… introducing a moan vox through his kiddy CB hand mic, swaying along with the half light rhythms... getting all cybertron, pitch shifting feedback, tapping into something deeply seductive... making interesting parallels with this current read from JGB.