CDR, Syndrom Produktion, 2004
www.dunkelheit.tk
I’d just like to say at the outset that I’m quite fond of difficult, antisocial noise. Therefore the fact that I find some of the tracks on this four-way, fifteen-track split CD a bit unpleasant and unrewarding to listen to will hopefully be interpreted in the intended manner.
The first five contributions, from Some Asian Female Bodybuilders, grate on my nerves like lemon juice on an open wound, to such an extent that I had to pause the CD in order to write this paragraph. Maybe it’s a high-frequency/low-frequency thing; I’m much more into rumbles and drones than squeals and screeches. You might like that sort of thing. The third and fifth tunes drop the pitch a bit and approach a sort of COH-style mid-range hypnagogic feel, but they could do with a bit more structure.
Toni Kandelin is a bit further up my street, offering up a much less sparse, more textured sound and at less offensive frequencies too. Full of digital bit-flutter and jumpy filter transitions, “Frogdance” bashes out some subliminal rhythms in the grey area between Russell Haswell and Winterkalte, but it goes on longer than it needs to. They just get bigger and more menacing from that point on though, until “Vomit The Brain” which could almost be a laptop-age Brighter Death Now.
The only contributor who I’d previously encountered, o.m.s. – n.m.a., starts off almost ambient by comparison to the first two artists. “Untitled” encircles the listener in a warm cocoon of the aforementioned drones and rumbles, from which fragments of dissonant melody periodically emerge. Later on the artist sounds for a moment like he’s taking us back into the lifeless screeching of the first band but goes for the messy Japanoise-style freakout option instead. Good call.
The highlight for me however has to be the oddly named Guttural Strap-On, who work with material just as noisy as the others but manage to lend it much more atmosphere and psychoacoustic depth. It’s amazing what a difference a cranked up bass range, a bit of rhythm and a load of reverb can make. “Naked Skin” even bobs along on what could be an occulted krautrock vibe, unless that’s just me imposing artifical order on chaos in a sonic Rorschach test sort of way, and “Gay For Pay” hints at sixties sci-fi soundtracks for a while. “Oppressive Silence” is just a drone, but it’s a good drone. They’re not really any more memorable or life-changing than their label-mates here, but at least this is music that will relax you rather than set your teeth on edge. But then I dozed off at a Panasonic gig once. Your mileage may vary.
[5/10]
— Andrew Clegg