‘Mixed Noise Soup’ reads as an attempt to encompass the already impressive discography Satatuhatta has amassed in the last two or so years, extracting new tracks from the tentacling Finnish scene which has already proven so lucrative for the highly active label. While the likes of Freak Animal have long championed the depths of Finland’s noise and power electronics capabilities, Satatuhatta seems responsible for a groundswell of material and invigoration of projects associated with the label and its allies, all now coalesced on the label’s first compilation.
Things are stickily wicked from the beginning: Moozzhead’s opening blast casts a virulence which the remainder of the first side can only dream of meeting, thick sheets of rolling distortion compacting the left channel while bleating curls of unrepentant filtration dominate the right, further agitated sounds swarming around in further aversion. The project’s previous releases have favoured a retrovised sleazy aesthetic, and “MILF Command Til War” has both the title and squelching fluidity to match that. Tyhjä Pää are equally prominent but replace Moozzhead’s sexual splurging with a focused hostility, “Burnout and Repeat” a prophetic title as the track unfurls densely vibrating shards of what may have once been scrap metal which has since been abused and sliced into saturated chunks of high noise viscosity, supplemented by filter sweeps which explode half-submerged like landmines with a hint of Pain Jerk-esque flair - with a crude drum machine interlude adding a drop-out dynamic fault line which somehow only increases the Kohei Gomi vibes.
Beyond those two beacons ‘Mixed Noise Soup’ never disappoints, although (as with almost any compilation) some tracks shine more than others. The closing trio of tracks ensures the second side is the victor: Mogao’s wet and messy spray of untrimmed harsh noise defiance sweats simple metal bashing feed through cheap distortion, and Umpio’s somewhat similar “Karstanen” pummells several layers of over-crisped electronics, a rutted low-end and spitting high tone constants as the piece frays into trails of unkempt and fired-up spurts of effects-soaked virulence. Scrap Furnace then closes with a piece which could almost pass for recent The Haters material, “Radiant Praxis” cascading metal blows which are thrown into a washing machine and doused with clinging distortion for a bruising experience on par with the duo’s excellent debut cassette (no prize for guessing the label which released that).
Primitive Wings, New Boyfriends and Amek-Maj are as similarly unashamed as Mogao, the latter scrappier but each adopting an eyes shut style of noise intuition which is admirable but which is perhaps a little too uninhibited and wasteful when compared to the more energised and focused tracks found elsewhere on this cassette. While their flurries of self-propelled mastication perhaps give some time to refill your cocktail glass, their crudities are a little shallow when compared both to the excesses of the compilation’s more fervent tracks – but also the less dynamic moments of ‘Mixed Noise Soup’ which demand the listener’s return and attention. Be sure to be reseated for Corral Shut, whose “Rub It To Dry” is an unnerving meditation centering upon raw junk metal scrapes, a distant thudding repetition and blossoms of fountaining feedback ultimately imploding into a flurry of groaning metal grinds and zealous beating: all a close approximation of The New Blockaders’ penchant for raw scrap metal abuse which has none of the excesses of the likes of Moozzhead, but which permeates an oxidized atmosphere which has soaked into many of Satatuhatta’s releases. Resting Place also unfurl a more dismal industrial excursion, a prominent elongated loop casting a heavy machinery shadow over a second background repetition and a sickly feedback tone, which lingers into H.Ö.H.’s second side opener which is equally dismal and repressed, its uneven repetitions unspooling under a thick layer of pleural decay.
Add in a booklet of bespoke art, and collage art seemingly drawn from the social excesses of the 1970s, and ‘Mixed Noise Soup’ is the ideal introduction to Satatuhatta, for those few who have avoided it. Those whose shelves are already overflowing with the label’s riches have another gold bar to add to their treasure chest. I may favour the tracks at the dynamic ends of the compilation, but nothing on this compilation is sub-par: an observation applicable to the breadth of the Satatuhatta discography that I’ve heard so far.
