Deathprod ‘Dark Transit’ 12” (Smalltown Supersound)

The release this year of ‘Occulting Disk’ marked the end of a 15 year wait for a new Deathprod full-length, a near-silence punctuated by occasional projects which gave no real confidence that Helge Sten was planning to again unleash his Audio Virus in any type of cataclysmic quantity. The unforgiving may hear the austerity to ‘Occulting Disk’ and wonder why it took 15 years to gestate, but the black majesty of Deathprod was never so concentrated or engulfing as in the project’s return. The new double LP reflects the dispassionate and unrelenting menace at the heart of a black oil slick, which uses unsuspecting currents to form engulfing shapes of suffocating sable. ‘Dark Transit’ is the surprise follow-up, a limited EP released for Helge’s performance at the Oslo Opera House on 10 November 2019 after which the remaining copies found their way overseas.

“Transit 1” layers an unsettling lower tonal drone with a flickering high register, newer drone undulations entering the piece to tilt it in all directions until the vessel is capsized and subsumed by the nighttime waves – only to find lingering high tones attaching to the sinking lifeless mass, slowed screeches of the final gasps of oxygen trailing from the corpse of the piece as it sinks to the bottom.

“Transit 2” is almost impenetrably dark; a single low synth line modulated and reverberated slowly and almost undetectably before rising slightly in register and with a glimmer of light, allowing shrouded tones to break off – only to wither and fall into the shadows again – before itself retreating slowly. “Transit 3” then quickly closes the second side by reminiscing the grim weather patterns of ‘Morals and Dogma’, a blustering tonal expectoration which arcs while wavering in a cross-wind, pungent as its edges singe while in momentum, then chilling as it falls to the ground.

I was all in once I heard Deathprod in 2004, so anything stylistically on message is going to be embraced. These new recordings do make the listener work a little harder to extract that same lifeless joy, but it’s there: in the unflinching black palette, and in the finer details eking out of the central viral pit Helge Sten lays down so expertly.

The same tundral bleakness shapes ‘Dark Transit’ as it did ‘Occulting Disk’, again distilling Deathprod to its concentrated essence. The project has always shrouded itself capably, Helge’s concoction of electronics unremittingly dismal and dark – however the project’s return seems all the more inwardly inspired, drawing strength from its own minimalism and taking ink from its own unbeating heart. ‘Occulting Disk’ is described as an ‘anti-fascist ritual’, however the answer isn’t political correction but decimation: we are all equal in death. I was always going to champion ‘Dark Transit’, but fuck it I do so with no doubt.

Dead Boomers & Dustin Johnston & Shayne Bowden 'The Next Action' C-20 (Deterra)

Shayne Bowden’s Deterra label has diminished its output of late, but a string of great cassettes were released earlier in the decade which seemed to unfortunately escape their deserved audience. This split/collaborative release is one of the last of them, and its under-assuming profile should not diminish its worth.

Over their side-long collaboration Shayne and Actuary’s Dustin Johnston lay down a thick and satisfying stretch of industrial-tinged noise, Shayne setting the pace with a mix of flowing distortion and strong scuffs of beaten contact microphone clatter, a simple modern harsh noise bounty which is counterpointed by wilting high-end tones and soaring electronic chirp from Dustin. The obvious separation in register stakes out sonic territory well, but even with that definition the interplay is meaningful – the rise and fall from each makes sense – and “We Jam Lexapro” achieves more than its constituent parts would suggest: proof, were it needed, that modern noise has a workable space between wall stasis and textural/spatial disruption.

Dead Boomers’ time exploring the boundaries of their sound is over, the campervan pulling into the driveway in time to launch into the pernicious “A Gentle Occasion”, a tense piece of marching synth rhythm, clawing feedback, and spacious howled vocals. This is the duo at its familiar best, the piece apparently a live recording – a setting the duo have long commanded – which gives a sweaty sheen to its simmering.

According to the liner notes “Annual Rite” is a contemporaneous recording to "A Gentle Occasion" – but there’s no sense of audience, a greater volume, and a very different feel, hinting at Red Wine And Sugar’s use of extended text, but here with a backdrop of industrial drone/ambience. It’s settled and safe after the turmoil of “A Gentle Occasion”, the vocals spoken evenly and soaked in effects rather than the power electronics gruffness of the opening track – but without effecting an anti-climax or losing the duo's steely resolve.

In 20 minutes ‘The Next Action’ covers a lot of ground, but not so diffusely as to lose focus and with not a wasted moment to be found. If not hitting their full audience by now, clearly all artists involved should – and check out the great artwork to boot!

Buck Young 'Buck II: Where Do You Want It?' 2x12" (Wonderland Media/No Rent)

The exuberance of Buck I, ‘Proud Trash Sound’, was palpable, its ideas escaping almost faster than the tape could catch them. ‘Buck II’ no steps in to harness and shape those, confident in the material and more liberally applying the familiar ideas and techniques of its creators – notably expanded to include Joseph Hammer, whose impact is significant.

The components aren’t dissimilar: a (to put it simply) combination of noise ingredients and country/Americana references, with the opener of each LP of this double set exemplifying ‘Buck II’’s push. “Scorpion” is an extended piece of manipulated slide guitar, tape glitch and loop, and climactic ambience, testament to the influence of the Crumer/Hammer CD ‘Show Em The Door’ (Accidie) to ‘Buck II’ and the most detailed expression of the records’ genre mix. “Woke Up In Reno” bears the project’s maturation with musical fragments looped and fermented, then destroyed with a classic chunk of Jason Crumer noise nihilism which is rarely fund across ‘Buck II’ (the same scarcity which made ‘Show Em The Door’ so immersive).

While the harmonised country songs and gunslinger samples are still prevalent (less so with the samples), the integration of tape and vinyl manipulation of the musical elements is a significant development, the juxtapositions making more sense now to those approaching Buck Young without an immediate love of everything crammed rawly into ‘Proud Trash Sound’.

The love of the source material still shines through, and anyone adverse to mixing some overt musicality and arguably quaint content in with their experimental music may struggle – but experimentation doesn’t start or end with electronics, and ‘Buck II’ is littered with creative flourishes even at the most forceful of its yeehaw moments. ‘Buck II’ isn’t some misguided crossover or reach for wider appeal – it’s place in these pages is not by virtue of grinding industrial clout but thanks to appropriation, technique, and ingenuity.

Spiteful Womb ‘Grey Chambers’ one-sided C-44 (Disclosures)

Nora Egloff has been unassumingly building an evocative body of death industrial plight since about 2014, small editions and an in-the-know audience quickly dispersing most past releases into the underground – but thank goodness for a well-stocked Bandcamp page.

Opener “Formalin” sets a cruder tone than earlier releases, the track a virulent spray of sinewy harsh noise with a sickly snarl sending thick dirt-encrusted tendrils deep into the bowels of my cassette player: an effect ‘Grey Chambers’ then can’t rid itself of.

What follows is cogged by caked-on grime, heaving lungfuls of emphysema gasping through “Scopophilia” as obscurely muttered samples slowly drag the piece into the freer synth modulation of “Air Hunger”, in which simple tone generations unsympathetically throb when put in contact, shimmering high-end netting and an irregular foetal heartbeat smothering the piece’s cleanliness and again triumphing polluted sound components over Spiteful Womb’s more familiar articulation. The piece then engorges with even harder rhythmic material and yet more sooted electronics gnawing, before dropping into the feared atmosphere of “Review Of The Fatal Videotape”: an extended cloud of grainy fog, barely perceptible low-end churn and impassive clanging; even in this familiar emanation the greyness of “Formalin” is still clinging to ‘Grey Chamberss’ final track of noxious powdered coating.

In a genre already about as subversive as it gets, ‘Grey Chambers’ upsets any natural order by feeding from the opening noise burn of “Formalin” smearing its ashes across this tape. The result may be less technically impressive, but it’s impossible to escape ‘Grey Chambers’’ consequential dismal centrality. One day this project will deservedly gain a bigger foothold, and visit those sings on the greater unsuspecting.

Purgist ‘Secret Habit’ C-28 (No Rent)

At the heart of ‘Secret Habit’ is the dramatism of punching loud and highly strung noise through plaintive ambience, a hot/cold switch which is performed the moment the title track’s pastel drift is punctured by the Dave Phillips-meets-Facialmess uproar of “Anchored and Bound”. It’s a scene which then repeats with as much class (if less surprise) over the remainder, the noise electronics cut and mangled fiercely and precisely, and the moribund washes of ambient carefully if monochromatically draped.

The familiarity of these elements within modern cut-up noise shouldn’t – and doesn’t – detract from their clever work here, but some commingling of treatment – acoustic metals and voice snippets in the noise maelstrom of “Manipulative Fuck”, the fury of a train field in “Trust Issues”, and the sympathetic unravelling which opens “Let Me In” – are what I find memorable.

That core interplay of sound is lost overside upon “The Fire That Burns The Brightest Fades The Quickest” kicking in, a lengthy piece of stretched trumpet tones and gusting electronics which reminds me of Bill Laswell’s remixing of Miles Davis, and into the brief “Dissassociation” which uses similar electronics to underpin sampled choking and gasping for a brief flirt again with the cassette’s needed drama. The two are diminutive within a cassette which – until their arrival – permitted no time for a deep break or shift in attention.

While a sense of raw emotion is difficult to extract, the highly scrutinised creation of ‘Secret Habit’ is impossible to fault. Those wanting raw noise intuition are really in the wrong place – Purgist thrives on composition, placement, and precision.

Puce Mary & Rodger Stella ‘PM/RS’ C-20 (Mutter Wild)

While there’s no denying Rodger Stella’s cosmic creativity, his techniques of manipulation and malpractice can, when spotlit in a solo setting, lack any real grit or danger. But Frederikke Hoffmeier can plumb those depths convincingly – even in her current bold and minimalist mindset – and adds that necessary spoil to Rodger’s galaxial gale on this collaborative tour cassette now re-printed by Mutter Wild for us homebodies.

The first side slowly sifts Puce Mary’s earthen grind into Rodger’s fligty electronics, the two voices drifting as they languidly caress. This opening is the two feeling each other out, testing compatibility and enjoying the slow entanglement of their sounds; any tension is precipitated rather than acted upon.

Those harder urges were saved for the second side, a grimy central distortion castigated with off-kilter repetitions while an ominous droning thud presses the piece and Rodger’s electronics squirm to find free space. Like a repeatedly picked scab the textural repetitions start to tear at the dominant timbre, unleashing an ever muckier sap of absorbing grainy distortion.
This unassuming collaboration plays on its participant’s strengths with an often casual ease, its class coming from intuition and talent more than over-wrought or overthought intentions.

Masturbatory Dysfunction & Acid Enema ‘The Ultimate Beat Off’ C-21 (Ominous Recordings)

Every reader has had the experience at which their (at least partial) dissociation with musical norms reaches the point of being beyond conversation: the inability to (or to be bothered to) explain yourself to someone who – quite reasonably – is just not going to ‘get’ Brighter Death Now or Masonna or Xasthur.

That dissociation is now encapsulated in ‘The Ultimate Beat Off’, a reworking of Felicia Gaggins’ source material by the members of Acid Enema: a venn diagram intersecting Cold Meat-leeched death industrial, glacial black metal and beat-driven electronic music permutations. Opener “(Draw My) Blood” crawls through a swamp of urban run-off, barely pulsing synth slowing an audible heartbeat as vocal globules coagulate near the surface, counterpoint to the march of “Late Night Filth (Back Alley Spit Roast Remix)” which explodes in a fit of drum machine fury which tramples over the initially grey synth of the source material.

A futuristic bastardisation of martial industrial starts side B via “March To The Graveside (Noth 1001 Remix)” and is perhaps the last developed idea on the cassette, but it’s over quickly and followed by a grim piece of hovering smog and rasping gasps as “Cum (Harder)” veers erotic asphyxiation to the point of near-no-return, the light fading and taking with it any orgasmic impetus.

Death, industrial, metal, pornography, underground rave culture, exsanguination, impenetrable noise, isolationism: ‘The Ultimate Beat Off’ covers it all, the ideal point of social disconnect and for a life of underground genre immersion.

Graustich ‘Diversity’ C-52 (Tordon Ljud)

After its cringingly bad opening refrain I settle quickly into thinking I can enjoy ‘Diversity’, which is quickly at its best at power electronics 101 on the title-track, laying down classic undulating synth thickly and unapologetically.

But with that crudely enjoyable barrage out of the way, “Diversity” struggles to maintain the baleful manner which came with it, the higher register synth work lifting the pillow and dissipating the effect of the piece. The wayward vocals (if that’s what they are) toward the end are also ineffectual, skittering across the piece with no sharper edge or increase in affront.

The second side tries various elements to bolster the core synth and distortion arsenal, but more misses any proper atmosphere than finds it; only “Divide For Zion” is effective as its hovering synth and callous rhythmic thud invokes the best of early 00s acts like Sektion B. The remainder plays like explorations rather than intentions, experimentations to be left alone given they break the cloudy tone which those couple of strong (if now well-worn) tranches achieve.

My initial rise in confidence was short lived; ‘Diversity’ pays no attention to maintaining mood, and is an uneven experience as a result. The impenetrable titles and artwork, and diffuse choice of samples, also give no purpose or consistency to the cassette, leaving it patchy and confusing – and ultimately avoidable.

Fecalove & Taeter ‘Total Punishment Special’ C-32

Fecalove’s “A Beginner’s Guide To AIDS” swallows the first side of this cassette up to the balls, starting with an uncomfortably brisk loop which starts to pick up feedback and gargling vocals as its gets moist. But the action starts when the shuffling loop stops and the track explodes creamily, thick distortion still laced with hints of feedback and voice, but more heavily imbued with thundering junk metal and squirts of wriggling filter squelch. This incessant flood of gloriously encompassing noise dominates the piece by sheer weight, and the faltering start is forgiven once this fervent cascade of harsh noise starts gushing from all available points of discharge. It dries up only when a roar of synth with heavier low-end revs up quickly, the deluge finished because at some point it had to be – but not replaced, because no one likes a second-tier successor.

Taeter may be one of the most under-appreciated power electronics acts doing the rounds, and the three tracks here are once again superbly crafted and dramatically dark pieces of filthy art. The Taeter side opens with a ‘radio edit’ of the title track to ‘Glorious Paraphilia’, the track’s hammered synth dynamics now at the forefront, the vocals lowered in the mix for an effective shift to the (also shortened somewhat) piece. The cover version of The Gerogerigegege’s “Her Name Is On My Cock” which follows is astounding, lecherous synth drones circling sore and greasily effected vocal ,pams and cries which are tinctured with feedback and dripping in sleaze. Capturing the invasiveness of the (fucking classic!) original while adding something new – replacing some of the original’s hostility with an indecent liquefaction – makes the track an ideal tribute.

Another cover song follows, this time a more traditional power electronics reworking of Kickback’s “If I Die Tonight”, ashen synth clouds and metallic industrial thudding creeping from the speakers while a black metal inspired snarl chews up the lyrics to give off a sickening scent of MZ.412-esque grimness. Unlike the previous track there’s no stylistic alignment, this is a slow and menacing rework of a track just looking for maltreatment.

This split cassette also saw release on CDR, both in meagre editions for a run of 2017 shows by Nicola in Japan. I can’t even find a listing on Discogs, so can only mark it up as a true obscurity, even if containing material well worth a much larger issue.

Arv & Miljö ‘Svulsmen I Skyn / Essensen Av Denna Förbannade Stad’ 7” (I Dischi Del Barone)

Subtitled “recordings from a window”, this 7” on Matthias Andersson’s own IDDB label mixes conceptual and sonic content without pretensiousness.

“Svulsmen I Skyn” could be beauty or garbage, its vacant stillness and piercing bird cries reminiscent of both seaside isolation and a closed day at the local tip. I assume a coastally adjacent window is the more likely, but the emptiness behind the bird calls – accented by the roughness of the cassette recorder capturing the moment – hints at a more stifling or sinister unseen. From such a simple idea and execution, the mind wanders and thoughts swell: not what I had expected from the needle drop.

“Essensen Av Denna Förbannade Stad” converts a rainstorm into a spitting, clanking and urgent patter of noise, again heightened in effect by the recording equipment. Distant deflections, wind or thunder, and snippers of outside life all flicker through the piece for added depth, but it’s the subtly infused soft organ melody of the final minute or two which is the scene stealer, emerging as background ambience only to haunt the piece more closely as it emerges, then lurking scarily once the rain stops and its noise drops to almost nothing. It’s the only hint of composer input to the record, and it’s a devastatingly clever touch which has dragged me back to this 7” long after I grew tired of the ‘The Nico Tapes’ and ‘The John Lydon Tapes’ CDRs I got around the same time.

Beginnings

This blog is the virtual home for 'Night Science', a publication I have been publishing since 2002. The intention is to provide an online source for review - and perhaps other - material which for whatever reason does not end up in the print publication, and also share some of that content in a more timely fashion.