choc.184  

Its not that the 1st track just sounds like cavemen summoning spaceships from the sky, the Gryn Brvs (pronounced Groyne Brothers) actually were trying to do just that. Recorded round a campfire on a hill in Ireland one night, the duo sweated out minimal chops, absolute 'less is more' jams of strumming and catatonic tinkling, sauced up with electronic drones. We also get a live basement jam and sweet closer that whiffs of atlantis. Now put your arms up, and your brow down.

choc.183  

More deep hippy listening with the german freedom band. Contains 2 psych jams from the VOL IV session, a trio track from 2007 and an old folk intro from 2006. Trundels along the immense stumbling road of fine german drug music and makes you believe that some UFOs might be made of wood and mud. Edition of 100, so its time to put down that pipe my friend, and listen to the little man inside your skull "go get it, numbnuts."

choc.182  

One of Bill Kouligas' most shimmering ear jolts.. Using just reel-to-reel tape loops and analog synths the little greek takes a laid back brain soak in an attempt to reveal evolution in colour listening. Like some wacked out new age self help guru this disk exhales confusion bliss and sends the electronic message swimming into view. Would make a nice tripped out sandwich with Wizards and Infinity Window, if thats the kind of lunch you like packing.

choc.181  

Canadas Tweddledum and Tweedledum of ear detritus return with with another fine collection of A.D.D. inspired tape manipulations, electronics, found sounds and cut-up swill. These goofs reek tension and congestion in their burned taudry headgear. Really crooked stuff that flows better than a wino playing a sax solo.

choc.180  

The mighty Ms Mountain, Baltimores Queen of Tape Hiss and swagger squats down and lays another fine egg of head scratch. Lowbrow tape collage of all her chops, from backyard jam band to psychic accapella damage to ear/soul laceration and further still. All executed in her own street-level avant thug style. Like the sacred mushroom this will take you beyond mangled.

choc.179  

Snowed in for more than a month, the mysterious Mankato crew took it upon their boney shoulders to create some new 'ditch music'. Back at their smoked out shrine they spun out dense sanctuary vibes. Huffing lik pagans on gas they doled out cough syrup against stagger guitar styles, turntable/cassette crunk, violin and electronic lament flutter and thats just the first 10 minutes of this 70+ minute heathen trek.

choc.178  

You ever needed the lowdown on the classical/jazz guy who took the 'wrong' turn? Then Lemon Bear be your man (is he a man or a group?? I am stumbling). Nurtured on the teat of 'proper' jazz, y'know -like real music, this goon somehow found himself hanging with the Starving Weirdos, playing with Jackie O and more importantly holding hands with Inca Ore. So yes his mind is bent, Left Coast style, and this collection of group pieces just shake the brain bake. Featuring Lil' Davy, Ivan Naranjo, Leonel, Josue Martinez, Inca Ore, Bob Jones, Jordan Dykstra and Jail Flanagan this disk reeks skywards, and in my wine hazed third  eye i can sniff the sweet leaf of Rev. Dwight Frizzell and the Ubu outness of many a 'enlightened' Alga Margen euro drone cloud huffer. You got a problem with the name kid? Well how about we rechristen him/they Enabler Om?  This is a true feral one.

choc.177  

Meghan Remy continues her one woman crusade to drain all humankind of bad blood and garbage, refilling our boots with hissed out affection while dousing us in white thunder. Hear the sound of a skull full of quartz being pounded by tiny yet powerful hands and listen to her inveigling vocals, the kind of thing Phil Spector hears in his pill poping nightmares. Note to Prog logs, this baby is a short and sweet slide (19mins). Listen to her WFMU inerview and performance HERE

choc.176  

Ascending from the stink haze of Zodiac Mountain, the Davenport Family, Jesus Balls and a ton of other drooled out Wisconsin jam bands comes The Second Family, a troupe focused on growing green, green roots in your hear holes. This has got a sweet fidelity too which means you can let the leaf in yr lug grow big. The clan are joined here by the wise blood of Buenos Aries mountain man Anla Courtis, adding some zoink guitar gristle and subtle wyrd magic. For them kids who get misty for the early WW&theVV daze.

choc.175  

Epic double disk weird-out by Americas most overlooked masters of all things freak. All the juicy bits from their 2007 jams, Finkbeiner picks his favourite cuts on one disk, while Schoen opts for his on the other. Its all here, the under water drone outs, the avant-garage thudders, the 'this cave aint big enough for all 4 of us' face-offs. Everything you enlightened trolls ahve to came to expect from the 'worlds most psychedelic band'. Ink stamped disks, in ink stamped, wax sealed envelope, with heavy recycled card insert. Edition of 100, so quit nodding, Bozo.

choc.174  

New misadventure from the most feral of the Finnish primitives - Reijo Pami. Recorded at home, then edited at Jan Anderzens shack. I have no idea what is going on here, but let me try to get a handle on it.. booze soaked scraping (it may be those infamous horses he plays), saliva work outs and mystery tapes all cook up some fever dream vibe. It's like someone took a Slowscan lp and gave it a good wirebrush scrubbing, a bit of a soak in an unknown liquid, then left it to dry next to a radiator. If that don't make you wanna hear it, get bent.

choc.173  

Great mulched 'new age' synth bliss from a Black Egg goon and one of the gonks from Astronaut. Feel a cloud envelope yr head.

"Why treat your ears to the merely fried when they could be, shall we say, Wahnfried? Koshmiche-synths duo of Taylor Richardson (undisputed shroom snorkling champ of the North East) & a vibration-channeling dude named Dan Lopatin. A few creeper moments of giallo/porn keys blossom into a full card wrestling match with a 6000-armed guitar-cable sea creature. Verb bubbles will float you. Sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-bass will ensure your car tires vibrate right off the pavement." - Angela Sawyer, Weirdo Redcords

choc.172  

Fine stoned loner bedroom constructions from this old grizzly. A well baked amalgam of tapes, electronics, vocals, clarinet and a bunch of other shit I can't pin down. Shove on your headphones and let the ear syrup begin.

choc.171  

Gonzo free music and guerilla jazz from this drug and ale gorged brighton sextet. A lot of reeds, tapes, percussion, vocal hollerin and the likes all captured in mysterious crud-fidelity. Come and enjoy this unseasoned brew.

choc.170  

Ohios percussion/improv whippersnapper deals you a hand of potent one man gruel. two tracks: a real heavy scraper with snare, floor tom, cymbal and contact mic. Plus a white light excursion on a wheel. No overdubs, just mind rubs.

choc.169  

Oakland, Califonia mysteryman Borful Tang conjures up some rich tape collage - soundart - plunderphonics, or whatever it is the kids call it these days. I say why not stick yr genres, bub and just come and get sucked down the Tangs' rabbit hole of oddly tinged cinema for ears. You can check some of his story right here.

choc.168  

Oh yeah, this one is a cooker!! Latest strange brain broadcast from Ms Suzy Poling. reel to reel tape collisons, organ & static make outs, wheezing electronics. All the atmospheric trippy slime & froth you have come to expect from this queeny. Shot the freak.

choc.167  

Alabama no-fi/sci-fi noise from Rodger Stella and Bryan Martin. Stella with renowned narcotic lurch straight out of Rod Heydrichs' pipe, while Martin trys to keep it together. This is pulp style beserk sounds in homage to A.E.Van Vogt

"The Storyteller pisses 4-D bolides into central time zone shitskull through cracked brains pickled by the flapping wall which ultimately effects the carbunkle feast."

choc.166  

All out goof/guru vocal & drum guff from Ben Knight (towering breaker) and Pascal Nicols (stuckometer). Tired of attempting to ignite yr third eye? then why not open yr second anus, and fill your empty head with this exotic homebaked doughnut. And please, resist the temptation to run.

choc.165  

This is a glorious weirdy. When i sniffed these baltimore dweebs out first time they were going by the name Mongol Wives, but somewhere down the track they decided enough of the exotic brides tag and one of them oozed out the name Sand Rattle Kins, so here we are... I don't know if there is a Little Finland located in Crabtown, but I doubt it. Thing is this great little batch of audio whoopee sounds like Tomutonttu edited together by some cracked out kid with ADD,, and thats not a bad thing. Get in on it!

choc.164  

Minn Minn Lights is Daniel Meyer Grønvold, Eirik Renton and Oivind Koppand Eriksen from Oslo. The trio squeeze out intricate improvisations with feedback, drones, bells, tapes, electronics etc. Exotic Nordic larvae for yr nostrils.

choc.163  

Argentina's self proclaimed "Prehistoric Magical Psychic Band" blast off into the inner space void on this one. Electro-Accoustic brain burps ringing out through the cosmic ocean. Oh Mama!.

choc.162  

Yet more smoked out bedroom jams from Brum druids Gas Shepherds. Electronics fart and wheeze, vocals jabber in the distant corner, percussion junk is clanked in wasted stupor. Makes you wish Jodorowsky had let them coked up Down Syndrome kids in 'Santa Sangre' loose in a studio.

choc.161  

"CASTINGZ= everyone weird is from a small town, puts fuel in they music brain damage cells of strange-nezz....but fucking NEWCASTLE AUSTRAILIA? Makes Up North Michigan look like a SKY MALL. When the boyz were there it was nothing but soccer fights, empty buildings, dry streets, and CASTINGS. They had no fans there, said they been around for 5+ years= nothing. No chicks, no beer, no drugz, nada. But they did have a super strange weirdo lurch vibe going down. Six or seven underground types with tons of electronics, and a kinda of mystic searching zoner loner sound. Wasnt cluttered, wasnt busy, just a super tight vision of unique audio slomo attack. Its what you want slowing aging inside every tiny hidden mystery bermuda triangle of townz. They trump alot of the big wig big ego noizerz out there, and have a pinky length discography....I hope they get chicks, drugz, beer, and FAMOUS.....FULLY." - John Olson

choc.160  

Word on the street has it that Angela Sawyer, that delightful weirdo vinyl hound of Twisted Village fame, survives solely on a diet that would make a trucker blush. No fancy pants vegetables for this lady, nope, just white sugar, white flour, preservatives, hydrogenated fats, meat, and carbonated beverages. And boy does it show on this disk. Joined here by her pal James, they deliver a total schizoid delight of keyboard mush, vocal hooky, noise, electronic ugh, guitar wailing, bent songs, and just all out confusion. Fans of Stomach Ache, Bananafish, Glands Of External Secretion, Brown Supper etc, you needs this. One of my all time favourite Monk disks.

choc.159  

More delightfull Danish mong out. Heavy analogue synth lurching on this baby. "Family Underground are from Copenhagen, Denmark. Not much going on around here. We jam to have fun. The sound hails from the bowels of the shipwrecks on the bottom of the Baltic ocean. Family Underground consist of three, using a wide variety of instruments. Psychedelic drone for those who want to be down forever."

choc.158  

New psych damaged batch of nocturnal hookum from Karl Bauer. Zoned out crackling, tones and sweet SK-1 blowout all brewed up into a sweet load of tingling psychic non-songs and grot beats.

choc.157  

Some more low brow head tangle, this time in a smoky late night vein. Two tape mulch pieces of magnetic creep and two live joints (1 recorded in front of an audience of 6 one summer night in Cambridge, the other to a packed house in Brighton). A nice slow labotomy. "If the Dead C swapped their axes for rusty cans and contact mics it might sound something like this. Loud elliptical tremors in the ground, voices cracked beyond recognition. Screaming hiss. The sound of a slug being purged from his body." 8/10 -- Matt Lindley, Foxy Digitalis

choc.156  

Translated as 'syphilis, the joyous disease' this is a total head scratcher. Karen teams up with mysterious finnish hermit Reijo to create something almost beyond description. Equal parts spaceage and prehistoric, this is some type of rudimentary way out psychedelicjammer, highly recommend for those who like to be confused.

choc.155  

Anla's solo piece is a sweet ride of ponderous strings, designed to bury deep. Dylan's piece is a electronic drunken swagger straight to tape. The final piece is a live duet which sounds more like an ensemble piece, real fucking strange brain gas emission that confused all in attendance, especially the two performers.

choc.154  

Great compilation with Helix (family undergrounds Sara), Nicole Chambers, Novellor, Bridget Hayden, Heather Leigh, Smack Music 7, Goils, Goils & Fripped (angela sawyer), Tovah Olson, Unicorn Hard-on, Hertta Lussu Assa, Sharon Gal, Sharkiface, Leslie Keffer, Kim Gordon, The Polly Shang Kuan Band, Hockyfrilla, Inca Ore & Replicock.

choc.153  

Universal Indian Bryan Ramirez's solo damage from 1996. Over 45 minutes of one mans screwed up wrestling with broken gear. Tapes, turntable, electronics, feedback, percussion, sweat and grease. Total no-fidelity dementia, like a lone flickering lightbulb in some damp, sodden Michigan basement.

choc.152  

More complex ear debris from these Minnesota heathens. Out in the woods weirdness with dirty hands put to all types of eerie jobs. Narcotic basement yammerin', viloin & guitar stutterin', reed wailin' and general tape damage. Very fucking 'out'.

choc.151  

This sometime duo, sometime trio from Brighton have always floated our stink ship whenever we have saw them live. This 50 minute epic captures all the kind of tricks they pull on stage plus some. Monged out yodel, dense mind fog, sensations of strange inhalants. A real startling trip. "Some HEAVY lo-fi scum free jazz heavy on the tape mush and hiss... Fucking KILLER STUFF." - A.Dilloway

choc.150  

Two solo pieces for voice and reel to reels (well one also has oscillator), plus one interlude. Includes the first ever solo live joint. Like if Terry Riley had down syndrome when he hooked up his time-lag accumulator. “Like he was being eaten alive by goblins.” - audience member

choc.149  

Recorded live at Resonance FM. Full on duo in kick back mode, trying to burrow out of the airwaves into the listeners spine via tapes, voice, violin, oscillators, percussion and various other junk. A very pleasant magnetic headache. "Constantly engaging, and almost OCD in its search for new sounds, it runs a pretty slick roller coaster from meditative drone to looped rhythm to random samples to vocal exhumations, all inextricably connected and mystically-timed, as if these two have some secret key to the sweet spot at which to stop hammering a sound and transform it into something new." - Noiseweek

choc.148  

A one night only 5-piece when we were joined by Julian Bradley, Neil Campbell and Sticky Foster in Leeds. Just what you would hope for, tape loops, drone, vocal damage, confused percussion, reeds etc. A ten legged brew-up.

choc.147  

These uk primitives are drooling. Salivating some wild liquids, most probably brought on from licking a finish mushroom, or toad. Bedroom plucking, strange clank and paranoid electricity. Its enough to send you back to the cave, asshole.

choc.146  

More hot orbit action from Mr Todd. Perfectly formed fog sounds via guitar, violin, electronics and who knows what else, all drenched in fx spit. Gloaming smoke rings float high, man.

choc.145  

Slow smoke jams from Californian sloth worshipers. Total monochrome lurches into the feedback hole. Like a mouthful of black strawberries. Great dementia. “Voices, confusion, poisons. An endless fade to grey.” - Not Not Fun

choc.144  

"Brand new solo album from Greg Kelley of Boston duo Nmperign. Massively downer atmosphere with obsessive/intimate diaristic dialogue, totally blasted drone vacuums, distant sound events and a slow blur of heavily sedated instrumental activity." - Volcanic Tongue

choc.143  

The hi-brows reckon PIMFWS is a “live performance duo that explores the liberation of the definitions of emptiness and the clogged distribution of aural quantity.”, while us garbage-brow types just reckon this is a joyous ear rot riot. New York based hoodlums Jaime Fennelly & Fritz Welch emit some brain blackness via vocals and electronic crack. Recommended for those who enjoy a 'swissotic' type of tickle.

choc.142  

Recorded 22 November 1998 this is a bliss blister of cello, violin, tapes and voice. Like some shortwave radio broadcast straight from the porch, the duo conjuer up Sticky Foster as a 'ghost presence'. Karen Constance done did the artwork. You needs it.

choc.141  

New solo smooch from Pete Nolan (Magik markers/Virgin eye Blood Brothers) letting out some primitive apartment style electronic/raga strangeness. “...feels like wading through treacle with an alien antenna wedged deep in your skull.” - Volanic Tongue

choc.140  

For one night only the Mongoloid Men (connelly, olson, young and nyoukis) came lurching into a brighton basement. Cheap beer and indian food in their stomachs, beards and hair full of hash smoke. A swarm of metallic insects shitting debris into ears of those who attended. Horrible, horrible noise.

choc.139  

Great heavy jam from these Danish black-out artists. Lurching drone and electronic strangeness slowly worm their way into yr face hole and blow smoke rings. That sound? Thats an ancient axe cutting through cosmic fog, man. Come breath the thunder.

choc.138  

This first recording as a trio (Heather and David Leigh are joined by Alex Neilson on drums) is a full on sonic avalanche. A wild exorcism, baby. “... leaves little fractured patterns scorched onto the memory like acid on glass. Taurpis Tula’s improvisational magic has taken a stronger but no less delicate and detailed turn. This is an epic excursion.” - Stylus

choc.137  

Gloriously bent compilation of tape manpulation/loop madness/whatever with John Wiese, Ashtray Navigations, Justin Meyers, Ones, Smack Music 7, Julian Bradley, Luke Younger, Green Mist, Neil Campbell, Aaron Dilloway, Shakeeb Abu Hamdan, Dylan Nyoukis, Skaters, Sisprum Vish & Gas Shepherds.