Non Monk Gunk From Our Friends At Butte County & Beyond


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rlw - Agnostic Diaries  CD £10

Dirter Promotions

"The common factor linking these recordings are projects that were never fully realised. The basic recordings started in 2005, however the period of reworking and transformation (2016 to 2017) is more important. All vocal parts and general revisions were done during this period. Agnosticism was the basic idea for the vocal/musical re-working of the pieces with the vocals implanted into the basic pieces, not just as simple overdubs, but inserted in a dialectical confrontation with the basic sounds and structures.

Track 1 relies on George Antheil´s Ballet Mecanique; track 3 on a co-operation with Anla Courtis using some sounds by Ovary Lodge planned for the Gerald Jupitter-Larssen series which stopped far too early. Track 4 includes rlw’s parts for a collaboration with Marc Baron whilst track 6 includes vocals by Dylan Nyoukis, also used for a collaborative cdr with him.

Ralf Wehowsky is one of the most respected electronic composers of our day and was also a founder member of the seminal German group P16.D4 and label Selektion whose ground-breaking releases influenced many working in today’s experimental music scene. Previous releases have seen him collaborate with such well known and diverse artists such as Merzbow, Bernhard Guenter, Jim O’Rourke, Achim Wollscheid and Lionel Marchetti. His music is impossible to pigeonhole into one simple bracket. It is neither industrial or musique concrete, nor computer music nor improvisation. In fact, it could be all of these."


Vile Plumage and the Burselm Community Players- Who Will Hold You In The Night  cassette £5


"Cropwell and Duke first met ten years ago at a goth disco, the venue a grey, dreary corporate hotel. Days later Vile Plumage would be recording for the first time. Out on the corner in the snow and bitter cold chanting street names real and imagined. It wasn't long before they were scooped up by local police. Missing persons. Mistaken identity. No real drama. Nothing to worry about. No reason to stop. This tape contains snippets of that recording. Hear the Vile sound as it was and as it is. Includes contributions, curses and catastrophes courtesy of the Burselm Community Radio Players. Thank you for listening."
Edition of 50


Ida Coelacanth - Graveyard Slug Drown In Tears Of Death   cassette £5

Cardboard Club

" Not buying the cassette is linked to five in nine deaths of a rare, gasket faced molerat. Attempting to seperate the artist from his art produces a gallon of black worm oil sludge. Drink milk to revive the respatory and digestive system of the cattleyard sponger peddler then buy this tape.

You just found one of the EastMidlands most authentic Performance artists work. be warned, it's addictive art." - A happy customer


Wreckers Ruin - Sister Eel  CDr £5

Base Materialism

Layers of cassette textures escaping from the Burselm Crypt, interrupted by untamed frequencies and randomly (well) placed comedic audio segments. The framework is cut up harsh noise, but the outcome is something a lot more warm and dare I say musical (but don’t let that put you off).

“sister eel” offers abrasion with a smooth undertone through organised absurdity—a release that reflects on 90s harsh noise whilst staying true to contemporary British experimental music.


D.Coelacanth - Ghoul Town Tails Two  booklet £5

Self released

"Yesterday morning I sat in the poang and read the second instalment of Dai Coelacanth’s Ghost Town Tales. I should be back at work but instead find myself reading about the Gravy Scientist and the Heavy Fractions Band and find myself much preferring this new found freedom. I look upon it as retirement-lite, a trial run for the real thing should I ever get there and if I do ever get there I shall spend my mornings reading such as this. A fine start to the day. Bugger the crosser and covid give me Mole Seventeen, Rat City, Alan Rammer and the Fang Thugs.

As in the first outing there is no pretence to plot structure, punctuation, beginnings, middles or ends. This is no obstacle to enjoyment though, in fact to any decent minded William Burroughs loving literature freak there is much to enjoy here. Especially the vivd imagination of Dai which is capable of producing this;

‘Jarry loves a mushroom I noticed the room upstairs contains gheng zone I could feel it when I came out of the toilet river beyond the static window they make a facsimile but exaggerate certain features to gain viewers frozen scabs organise a car pool verena tries to discourage this kind of talk suzi was editing she told everyone that she no longer needed to eat they don’t look fresh vhs crime you think people can’t sense it but they can mr lee drilled into someones face and shouted something about pie fillings.’

The ‘pie fillings’ are a constant as is ‘spanish milk’ ‘mr lee’ and dozens of other character including the mysterious ‘mole seventeen’ and his/hers/their various similarly numerated counterparts.

Amongst the many fine aspects of his work Mr Burroughs’ writing was rich enough to furnish many a band with a moniker and so it shall be with Ghoul Town Tails Two. Take your pick from these few gems;

Subliminal cemetery
Cannibal gas
Spider jail
Dunbar ming
The electrified flap doctor
Mole people in shemp masks
Bucket spiders

Such is the richness that entire stories are to be found within short paragraphs though what’s happening is how you interpret it. It could be something to do with ‘the shemp’ or ‘mr lee’ or buckets or mushrooms or that mysterious Spanish milk. I have no idea. Like Naked Lunch meets Blade Runner with all the richness that those two can conjure.

Gulping this down in one sitting takes your mind to a strange place. You read on and on as if transfixed, drugged, the characters and language enveloping your fevered mind filling it with all manner of imagery. Or you could dip in at random take a paragraph and etch in to your skull these words;

‘grisly tape cult they just sleep and drool sprocket collector not even pagan satellite …’

-Idwal Fisher


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Keystone Cyclops  CDr £6


Kinda-sorta but not really a concept album, noise opera or what-have-you, the final 2020 release by Bren’t Lewiis Ensemble is named after a one-eyed turkey from one of the many unreasonably vivid and detailed dreams that tiger-lily their way out of the subconscious of Gnarlos and make a grab for life on the material plane. While the album is free of all reference to Les Nessman, it instead jumps across time and space, logic and proportion, and intersects with scenes of obliquely rendered insurrection led by the titular character who, in addition to being that most ill-tempered of the class of land fowl known as “delicious,” also happens to be a superhero. His accomplishments in that role remain undetermined, as do whether they have any effect on anything, and if they do, whether it’s good or bad. No, it doesn’t make sense, just leave such hopes in a paper bag somewhere and move on. The group keeps things moving at a zippy pace, layering objects-only jam sessions, field recordings, guitar treatments, tape manipulation, and primitive electronic garnk that drops through the ceiling like a fat man stepping off the beams on the attic floor. You might actually omg aloud once immersed in this loop-saturated, collage-heavy snart-nado of dystopian pop culture and sci-fi, where Wanda Jackson, Lenny Bruce, Mr. French, and an ugly bag of mostly old hotdog water masquerading as a talk radio host enhance the spectrum. Not surprisingly, audio boosted from homemade internet videos, persistent voicemail scams, silverscreen classics, cornball commercials of yesteryear, old sound effects libraries, and thrift store cassettes abounds, while on the other hand, no one foresaw cover versions of Destroy All Monsters’ classic nihilist anthem, Edward Alderson’s delirious visions of revolt, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s gavotte-slash-inexplicably-affecting-lullabye-dirge (voiced with maximum creep factor by newest Ensemble inductee Commodore Slaiman and Jon The Baptist). Overall, it’s a screwball empire-toppling as heard through a cellphone infected by nano-parasites that are eating the transmission.



Alexander Ross - Grandfather Paradox  LP £18


Human agency seems innocent in this context, old-fashioned even, as if the question asked by The Grandfather Paradox is nothing simpler yet more unfathomable than “What was sentience?” But Alex Ross’s musique concrète constructions are indeed masterful; transitions too numerous to catalog -- thus making the album something of a quasi-psychedelic opus, a theoretical string knotted around cosmic lugnuts in a Jacob’s Ladderly tangle -- are flipped, flopped and fried, unless they happen to be clashed, superimposed mechanics, gridlocked with microtonal tapestries that recall the marching band in Animal House forever stuck at the end of a blind alley. Symphonies of texture unravel and reconstitute into layers of persistent memory that roll around chambers where the law of gravity is mere hypothesis. Decentralized fragments glimpse into bent dimensions where inebriation-damaged gorp falls between curtains of denatured screech. With so much of The Grandfather Paradox seemingly absorbed in its own autistic self-containment, lacking concern for external destination, totally committed to something as specific and unknowable as an old daydream coming back to life, conjured by a subconsciously detected aroma, field recordings of, for example, an answering machine or public spaces where voices are audible, almost seem invasive, as if loutish, oblivious aliens are dumping toxic waste and completely bizarre religious rituals in the middle of an otherwise contentedly secular diorama.


Duncan Harrison & Ian Murphy - Slow Lightning  LP £21

Sham Repro

Sometimes the old hands tell the truth. Cherry made it known some years ago that the cosmic hummus resonates. Bound by bread & blub High Wycombe Wullie (Harrison) & The Guildford Grouch (Murphy) took to Roedale Valley allotments some years back to sow the seeds for 'Slow Lightning'. Which is neither a split or a collab, but rather a love letter forged between close pals of the sonic ital. Let the Lions gaze turn the weeds to stone!

Harrison shows his delicate hand with thin precision loops and strange little snapshots. Scuttering gadgets wheeze ominous scents into the faces of yelping robotic kittens and the dictaphone player in yr mind just keeps intoning “let the low tide tingle, fella!”

Murphy proves he is no recycled revenant with a brave and bold bowl of text-sound tit pickle. Huff the high fidelity and let tribute be paid to those voices as they have teachings. The loops and the breaks keep it simmering nice, while flabbergasted turntables press cheeks with prime Bohman-esque yabber. Like Don probably never said “Let the duck honk rasp yr brain, man!


Willie Stewart - Ludo Is Fantastic  dvd £13


"Irish filmmaker and musician Willie Stewart premiered his documentary film Ludo is fantastic about Flemish artist Ludo Mich late 2018. An audio CD with the soundtrack to this film was released simultaneously on Stewart’s own label Hypnagogic. Now, two years later, Hypnagogic has released Stewart’s film on DVD together with a restored version of Ludo Mich’s 1972 film Arthur is fantastic plus the film ‘De Minotaurus’ by Chris Gillis and Rufus Mich, which documents Ludo Mich’s 2005 performance Excavation of the Minotaur. On top of that, a download code to the soundtrack of Ludo is fantastic is included in this handsomely packaged DVD.

Ludo Mich has walked and trespassed the line between life and art since the early 1960s. Ludo was trained an artist in his hometown Antwerp, where he was part of the vibrant and international art scene of the 1960s and 1970s. Influenced by sources as varied as Dadaism, Yves Klein, Piero Manzoni, the Dutch Provos, Fluxus and Situationist International, Ludo developed into an anarchic and subversive performance artist and a gifted filmmaker. With a keen eye for new developments in the technical field, he also emerged as a pioneering artist in modern media such as video, holography and electronic music." - Sea Urchin Editions

Bruce Russell/Gnarlos - Ruined Again  LP £18

l’Esprit de l’Escalier

Two tape pieces by The Dead C / A Handful of Dust gentleman on one side, using excerpts from texts on urbanism, recorded instrumental interludes, and electronics. On the flip, the side-long track by one of the mutants from Bren't Lewiis Ensemble combines fragments of keyboard drone, spastic violin, field recordings by Silvia Kastel and Joan Of Art, turntables, and diabolically uncooperative reel-to-reel tape. Insert includes companion texts “No: Your City” — Formulary For A New Christchurch” and “The Organ Courier And The Chinese Billionaire.” Cover art by Kate McRae. Edition of 200.


Glands Of External Secretion - Do Not Disturb  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Released to kick off the Summer Of Ugh, Glands Of External Secretion’s noise-snuffled psychedelica sounds like what you see when you look through a kaleidoscope that’s been sat on by the creeper staring dude who’s always around even though no one knows him well enough to say if he’s a narc or a pedophile. Doesn’t talk for long time, and then all of a sudden does, loudly. It’s an album of disconnected visions and unstable passages from recuperation diary entries come to life, composed during recovery on a moldy waterbed surrounded by unreliable nomads in a hands-free hospital run by machines. Or a Volkswagon repair shop, possibly. Hard to say. Although it’s definitely trippy. Not in way that expands the consciousness but rather stubs your toe on the paint in the crosswalk and makes you fall over. All the cars are honking at you because the light has changed in the time it took you to get up. The bag of kung pao take-out has been annihilated and you can’t decide which of the three traumas your forearm is experiencing hurts the most. That’s what this is. The second kind of trippy. The bad kind, with the overdriven speakers, online instruments, radios, sound effects, household objects and office supplies, sentences boosted from thrift store cassettes and the internet. Plus a bunch of outbursts and symptoms of preexisting conditions, ominous rectangles and just, you know, general yarrrnnnnng.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Moose  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Pointedly undignified improv is Bren’t Lewiis’s consistent tripping off point, the elements of which swap bacteria indiscriminately and form mutant heaps of questionable awareness. Fragments butchered from recording sessions — electronics, guitars, objects from kitchens and garages and toolsheds, turntables, loops, nonverbal vocalizations, and a variety of accidental and/or unintentional activities — spiced with nuggets plucked from the public domain (because any recipe with mayonnaise is not complete without raisins) are reconstituted with compositional prowess easiest described as unkempt; many of the tracks on Moose don’t fade out so much as wander at a leisurely pace toward silence. Highlights from the department of field recordings include the idiot neighbors playing their idiot drinking game, arguably gongable street musicians, and a time-lapse document of Warvette’s bullfight against the GPS in his pick-up truck. Gnarlos delivers the vocals on a cover of Peter Hammill’s “A Ritual Mask” with a level of passion rarely heard beyond a police scanner dispatch operator, while the reincarnation of Stentor himself, Lindy Lettuce, bellows and gurgles through a mash-up of words to the Christina Aguilera hit “Beautiful” and “The Light, The Sound, The Rhythm, The Noise” from Flipper’s second album. Lucian Tielens grins and bears it on a reading of execrable lyrics to an antique show-tune written to enhance the rich fantasy life of Coca-Cola salesmen. Thus, the end result is an album that’s one part stoned teenagers sloshing around the back of a station wagon taken off-road without permission, one part long-winded recollection of an erotic Tardigrade cosplay party, and one part endless loop of Linda McCartney’s synth solo on “Jet.”


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Live At Pompeii  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Anyone whose mind was sawed in half by The Stallion’s liberties-hogging interpretation of The Wall released by In The Red stands a chance of not hating what The Bren’t Lewiis Ensemble does to the soundtrack to Pink Floyd’s legendary concert film (plus a couple tertiary Floyd-related pieces), finally joining us all in the noxious haze of daylight after a fitful four-year gestation. The hairless apes don’t come at it sideways so much as burrow through the dirt underneath and pop their heads out in various places like moles trying to ambush a housecat. Hands with no arms. Torso like a leftover chile relleno. Vulcan autoharp. Alpacas recovering from the effects of tainted codeine. A cameo by Darksmith of California. You know how it is.


{AN} Eel & Friends - Duets Volume 1  CDr £6

self released

a collection of 14 tracks featuring the following artists in duet with {AN} Eel : M. Nomized, James Bailey, Kapali Carsi, tendencyitis, Bim Prongs, Thomas Jackson Park, whoknowswhocares, Pendro, tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE, Volodmyr Bilyk, samarobryn, Wilfried Hanrath, Delores Mondo Stash , Eisenslager. Pretty wild mixture of freak sounds. Cover & label art by Karen Constance.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Noncanonical Gospels From The Cult Of The Immortal Tapir  cassette £6

Coherent States

Bren’t Lewiis’s after-hours guerilla performance at a Sacramento playhouse was the site of their latest maculate conception: desert-blind tales and sun-scorched allegories expunged from The Ongoing Dialogue during the greasy, soothing Council Of Nivea. Imagine an old-time radio broadcast of a pagan tent revival interrupted by shortwave transmissions from an isolated and weather-beaten theater where Swell Maps are stage-managing an all-nonmusical-interstitials Kubrick-inspired variety show. The bizarre compendium of revelations include a beastiary by an unreliable ornamental horticulturist, a sampler inventory of treats-centered Eucharist self-abasement, a postcard texticle, ersatz Beat poetry, idealized warrior vows, shattered testimonials from addled pitchmen, and faith-based texts about: limbless lizard infestation; inter-dimensional chonch worship; the personal toll of crimes against humanity; the banality of insane self-pity; pepper abuse; autobiographical cannibalism; hemoglobin-and-fur-based cocktails; false Elvis resurrection and messianic flim-flam orchestrated by the pastel mafia; compulsions of infectious diseases camp prisoners; the psychic struggles of a pilgrim getting telekinetically bombarded by epistles from spiteful, sentient mass transportation; interspecies organ transplant; and heavenly expectorant. The ramshackle performances and sound design display a pattern consistent with questionable Sudarium stains. Created using toys, tools, objects, instruments, and found voices, some details about audio events bleed through time and space while others fade into dust and ash. c50


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Noncanonical Gospels From The Cult Of The Immortal Tapir  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

CDr version of the above with the added bonus of Ace farren Ford artwork, two inserts and dried-tapir-blood tea. Includes three bonus tracks from Refreshing Hemorrhage.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Soiled Gas Mask  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

“Sugar brings nice sweetness to the sauce” says an accented voice a few minutes into group’s third album of 2019, one heavy on the fevered claustrophobia. Disturbing froth and gothic Mommie Dearest shame dissolve in a dark woont piece named after Alan Wagner’s legendary milk-bath poster (a Freakdom meme-of-the-year finalist). Joan Of Art — in surgery recovery mode, deluded and paranoid from the opioid painkillers — wanders out into traffic muttering the words to The Fall’s tale of sinister government agencies. Turntables and contact mics scrape layers of hardened parrot mucus for nearly twelve minutes in an epic examination of the difference between phlegm and sputum. There are two field recordings from The Dome in Scappoose, Oregon, made at the end of BLE’s August 2018 tour (one piece came about when The City Councilman’s phone was accidentally recording while stuffed into his pocket, and the other documents Gnarlos throwing balls of goat dung at a poster hung above the dumpster by the garage depicting President Shiklgruber cradling a baby dinosaur rescued from the twin towers on 9/11). Lucian Tielens dodges golfball-sized blobs of toxins and revelations that flicker across the bottom of an apocalyptic bucket, propelled only by grunting and orally expressed distress. A freeway execution narrated by a helicopter-bound ghoul. A jaunty celebration of urushiol. Cthulhu crèpe. Hemotoma. “The Funky Chicken” as fetishist’s instruction manual. So much dirty. So much unclean.


Butte County Free Music Society - T-Shirt   £15

Butte County Free Music Society

Pledge allegiance to these West Coast weirdos and you too could look as dapper as Mr Bruce Russell and his mound of coathangers.
medium, large or x large


Felix Mace - Boundry Situation CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

It began as an undefined audio project in Spring 2012, a disparate collection of software-generated samples and crudely mixed tracks. Undergoing the early phase of chemo-therapy beginning in Autumn of that year, Felix Mace recognized that his cognitive parameters were adapting to the industrial chemicals he’d been prescribed, a side effect that left the usual creative outlets oddly unrewarding. The only thing that felt good in his head was sound. Digital audio generation and editing, demanding minimal physical effort and offering disproportionately great returns, mainly in the retention of mental acuity and a healthy sense of control over his daily life, came to the fore: the tedious minutia of micro-samples; the joys of arbitrary filter processing; reckless mixing; endless revision to the fullest extent. No rules, no expectations, no pressure. After a moment of realization that what he was doing was vitally important to his well being, a mere project became a personal exploration of mental, emotional and physical responses to cancer and treatment.

Boundary Situation front-loads dense tangles of diminutive noise squiggles and mechanical jitters, with elusive roars always corroding the fringes. It progresses through corridors and courtyards of increasing sparseness and disconnected unreality, and concludes in the peculiar triumphant glow of Man Against Nature. Voices with standard-issue clinical neutrality (as well as one or two that are unnervingly chummy) reciting assigned texts, institutionally formal instructions, and answers to FAQs zigzag between panting, birds chirping, owls hooting, a children’s playground, jet engines, railroads, and other sound effects. Mace’s labyrinths of looping and filtering, woozy guitar noise backdrops, appropriations of folky acoustic guitar, R’n’B instrumentals, and fragments of sharp piano playing are elaborate, yet navigable and uncluttered.

Boundary Situation is a masterful hybrid of electronics and musique concrete, inspired by good ol’ fashioned existential dread, overcome by dexterous manipulation of its own alienating elements.


Glands Of External Secretion - Absent-Minded Control Freak CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Forty-one minutes of deformed gurgles; electro-chemical spasms; Nyoukis-inspired gibber smacked by cut-up electronic damage; field recordings both exotic and mundane, mechanical and untamed; scratchy, bottom-of-the-barrel turntablism; and muy picante appropriated garble.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Loose Meat CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Over an hour of viscera untethered! A cephalic card-counting snuffler memorizing the dress-code for visitors published by the Commonwealth Of Virginia’s department of corrections. Cranksters rutting through the neighbors’ storage shed and trying to power a homemade UFO with an aquarium air filter. Miscegenation of texts by John Steinbeck and Led Zeppelin. Foul seepage and damaged percolations. Toys-and-turntable spasticity recorded live on KXLU. Heat massage grimness. Gelatinous conflagrations. Brittle geekiopathy. A spontaneous gurnathon recorded at the fire pit behind The Dome. Lily McBilly’s WTF mash-up of the go-go-boot morality ditty “Teenie Weenie Boppie” by France Gall and Play It Again Sam’s failed-pick-up-at-the-museum scene. The 21-minute “Boiling The Grackle That Killed Suzanne Pleshette,” a live recording from The Handbag Factory in Los Angeles that delivers twice the juddering oomph of sleep-deprived space cats overdosing on bovine tranques dreaming of a laser battle with a hot water heater.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Unable To Suppress The Twitching CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Exploring the intersectionality of spooky chamber music and the failures of profane janitors, unnecessary announcements from the futuristic lair of a James Bond villain, and bones of the southern skull. Guests include Dylan Nyoukis and Warvette. Studio material and live recordings from Pro Arts Gallery in Oakland and KXLU in Los Angeles


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - External Organs  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Simian incantations made of over-saturated squelch clangs and reptile-friendly textures that are smooth as a cheese grater to the back of the head. Hiding under asynchronous grinds and competitive echo sharpness, the five long tracks here seem to recede unnaturally, like reverse footage of a smoldering grease fire, or a predatory ballet choreographed for It Had Been An Ordinary Enough Day In Pueblo, Colorado. The ensemble feels cooked alive on External Organs, maintaining a rhythm throughout comparable to extras from Night Of The Living Dead bonking into a wall over and over again as if trying to memorize the bloodstains on the sheetrock.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Worst Utopia Ever  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

On their fourth full-length album this year, the Bren’t Lewiis Ensemble charges into a blood-snake melee like public-access heroes the Ill-Advised Mutants Of Wrestling. Psychedelic euphoria and dread-poisoned torpor grapple all over landscapes smeared with swirling scrape bubbles and the post-hypnotic wobble that cleanses residua from an overdose of personality suppressants. “Very smooth,” as one disembodied and uncertain and completely inaccurate voice describes hopefully, “And somewhat spooky.” Punctuated by phlegmy coughs and metallic chirps, phasing in and out of common-area ambiance, this slow-moving travelogue through between-station grinds, animalist crunch vistas, and long-form dissection of beige respiratory gack rises and falls inside an onslaught of sinister machine drones that flay and smother everything with placid steadiness. There are multiple screech havens embedded throughout Worst Utopia Ever, where ghosted rescue attempts suffocate under the hairy mud of cross-eyed tape manipulation, mushy expressway pile-ups, and out-of-control clang orgies.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Taxidermy Frogs Copulating  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Over an hour of primordial muck extracted from the squishy lobes of these rurality-damaged urp-meisters. Bendier and more musk-slathered than a nudist farm trampoline, this Eros-preoccupied companion to the group’s upcoming Thanatos-exploiting The Inevitable Typo On Sheila Ostrich’s Tombstone applies electronic yeem to backward Marx Brothers opera, the voices of slimy novelty degenerates, and everything writhing on the tiles in between. Ample time on their first release of 2018 is allotted to reimagining several of fiction’s great lotharios -- Dwight Shrute, Ernst Blofeld, Mr. Magoo, and Rod McKuen -- as a cross between fascistic playboys and sex Nazis. Bug-eyed gurgles and clacks advance and recede with satyriasis-enriched determination worthy of a home-made installation of Rauschenberg’s Mud Muse. All buttons on the cookie machine are pushable: Moistened sputters, lascivious fwaps, cascades of dirty corn popping, weird grunting, perv huff, dejected shuffling of objects unaccustomed to the attention, and primitive electronic wub from toys and gizmos and manipulations. Salacious alien screeches serenade the reluctant, propelled by the percussive fiddle-faddle of incessant gorge harassment and creepy shoulder rubs. In master suites where violins get sawed in half by morning-after dental floss spat out of inflamed urethrae, Thundertubes and Stylophones grapple like surreal Greco-Roman tadpoles. BLE’s confusing, heavily mirrored demimonde, where everything and nothing is disturbing and inappropriate, allows the sound of children’s toys to infiltrate the needlessly elaborate hideouts of villains and make everyone uncomfortable on several levels. Keeps things spicy.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - I Have No Idea What You're Talking About  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

Percussive noises are a constant menace on I Have No Idea What You’re Talking About, familiar in style and purpose to crank-addled crutzers with guinea worms freaking out about dive-bombing bats that aren’t really there. Off-kilter loops and crossfades seem derived from a Waza Ensembles competition held during a calamity on a construction barge. There are more roadblocks in this twitching, raw-fi mess than would be present if Scrantonicity covered Joeboy In Rotterdam, it was filtered through Ichiyanagi’s Extended Voices and then re-imagined by Edith Hillman Boxill as an instructional music therapy album


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - The Inevitable Typo On Sheila Ostrich's Tombstone  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

In Bren’t Lewiis Ensemble’s latest reportage from the front row of a nightmarish debacle no one would want to stage, Thanksgiving is a revolting feast of Pynchon-inspired cuisine on the front edge of an exploding dirigible, yoga mats double as coffin liners, heavenly choirs are replaced by glitchy, private-press inbreds howling themselves sick in vortices of serrated cubism, and people who don’t know they no longer exist are the only ones who cry “Mortality as home entertainment? This can’t be the future. Can it? Can it?” Harmonic disarray and sour electro-splat seep upward and outward like a disturbing organ meat experiment going horribly awry. Dense electronic processes mingle with field recordings of machines defective and dying of old age. Alarm klaxons and calls to arms do not overpower the soundscape so much as wanly ooze from some anemic sky sphincter worthy of an Arch Oboler thriller. The forty-minute “The Flesh Is Already Engulfing The Guns” crawls into view like a family of zombie executives exiting a fallout shelter. Nauseated screeches dry-heave at strings of metal scraping marrow-less bones into bite-sized chunks. Swarms of clinking locusts disperse above fields of plastic thrift-store detritus getting overrun from all angles by locomotives locked in emergency deceleration mode. Flightless birds elongate their synchronized death squawks and amplify their internal doom. Molecules of electronic corruption wheeze complaints to no one. Violins groan with the vigor of an old rocking chair where a corpse has been dumped. Unattended radios transmit useless advice. Drones and pulsations slowly fall apart and atomize, a mirror image of decay and putrid nothingness enveloping untethered astronauts. A portrait of the void, disembodied space globules and all. The ensemble's version of Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s poem “Assassination Raga” embalms all the stripes of the rainbow that is America’s creep-show optimism with congealed blood. That the album is released on the poet’s 99th birthday is not a coincidence.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Gloria  CDr £5

Butte County Free Music Society

What The Red Dragonfly calls “the well-mapped out, but slightly unmeasured, off-kilter nature” of Bren’t Lewiis’s (ahem) music welcomes overmodulation, sound saturation, tape hiss, tape decay, tape damage, room noise, and many an audio defect aided and abetted by AM radio, cell phones, police scanners, weather-damaged microphones and speakers, and anything else that could impinge signal fidelity. Massive tape collages dejectedly shuffle through hopelessness and despair. Percussion-only pieces seem to be aiming for regal, yet achieve debasement. Slowed-down, amplified voices reinforce the feeling of beaten exhaustion. Tempos come from objects getting dragged clumsily across the floor and field recordings of children, machines, and workers. The same mound of objects, electric gizmos and detritus from Rapture Piles is here (as well as some of the same tape loops and answering machine microcassettes), along with new recordings of throat-clutchingly spastic electric guitar noise, claustrophobic violin, plainly declaimed words, reel-to-reel tape, and more decrepit toys. Scandalously repetitious, enthralled by the arbitrary, and peculiarly deadpan, Bren’t Lewiis does all three in a minute and a half and makes it seem like a month. Comes with a reproduction of one of the original 24 tickets to the never-performed theater piece. Edition of 50.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - F.A. Henderson's Casino Sordide  CDr £5

Butte County Free Music Society

Recorded in Portland, Oregon, under the influence of King Tubby, The Frogs, and shared fantasies about a 30th Century interpretation of Grey Gardens, the foundational spwahaohao of F.A. Henderson’s Casino Sordide could easily pass as the soundtrack for a demented, Justice-Schanfarber-hosted straight-to-public-access travelogue. The ingredients manifest includes: jumbush; damaged sitar; shamisen-type thing; kalimba seemingly custom-made for Richard Keel; suitcase zipper; messed-up log with big lead bolts, wire, and sounding gourd attached (like a Gambian ko that could double as a cudgel for a midget Viking); metal lid from tea canister; ScratchBox; air mattress pump; acoustic guitar; toy ukulele; flutish wind-instrument made of wood; Velcro; big exercise ball; bells; lychee-shaped keychain; metal ruler; plastic lid from a bottle of hot flash pills; homemade zither; cat toy; aloe vera gel; mild dyspepsia; and wood scraped with pushpins. These quiet, understated recordings are considerably gilded by overdubs of loops, tape manipulation, found noises, remote individual performances by farflung members of the group. Two mid-’80s tracks previously released on their debut cassette Make It Stop, along with new collage pieces, cast this album as the red-headed stepchild of Pork Queen’s Strang geeking the sort of quasi-shaman visions present on Buffy Saint-Marie’s Illuminations, covertly harassed by parasitic sociopaths, temple desecrators, and a language-impaired tribe locked in a basement long after the tornado has passed.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - Dreamhouse Prison Of The Pastel Mafia  CDr £5

Butte County Free Music Society

With as many lop-sided bleats per minute as L. Ron Hubbard’s third annual vivisection of one of Anton Lavey’s goats of Christmas past in the parking lot of Dismaland, The Bren’t Lewiis Ensemble’s cave noise conniptions get spinal-tapped by indelicate incursions of raw, untamed electronic thrusts and stabs. Toys, scratchy LPs of old Vietnamese showtunes, various nube-tubes, the forced laughter of a little person courtesy of Werner Herzog, and kitchen objects are some of the reassuring soundposts in this chiaroscuro dungeon, blinking between the cavernous scrape of dejected janitorial tasks, the feeble thuds of someone or something getting dragged across cobblestones caked with layer upon sickening layer of effluvia, and tiny metallic splats scurrying like immortal tapirs from one corner to the other. Disembodied voices speak not so much to communicate but to keep the creeping dread of the speaker at bay. The damaged soliloquy of the permanently distracted gets a thorough examination here, bolstered by the weirdly spirited yelps of the doomed and murmurs from a decomposing mule born under a wandering star. Throughout their patched-together network, spastic clunks engage in intimate congress with mechanical gasps, chokeholds, grunts, and the struggles of the restrained, rising and falling in parallel with irrational wheedle pulsations and hopeless density. Remote controlled drones buzz in and out of view, according to the trajectories of nonsensical flight-paths. Peculiar grinding from homemade spirit-breakers (known in the trade as aluminum maidens) morph from dispassionate sketches of abscess-befouled meadowlands to up-close chakra punctures and hi-sheen abscess pierce to collapsed thunder from failed Russian barge maneuvers. Includes industrial expressionist collage.


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - The Armless Marvel  CDr £5

Butte County Free Music Society

This supplementary hit of the dark, bad acid that birthed Bren’t Lewiis’s Hard Molt (via elagabalusian section, according to the doula) wallows in a comparably jagged dead-end of monolithic schmutz. Skull-bending free improv waterlogged by tape manipulation, body-snatched sound collage, and gaseous disorientation; off-center guitar wobble impaled on spikes of fuzz; relatively meditative spaz-outs, household objects, tape noise, waves of fweemp; apocalyptic, maniacally saturated and self-engorged Echoplex; lascivious caliph vocals, the moist fwapping of a bicyle-powered chicken-plucking machine, field recordings, and disturbing phlegm loops; murky, impaired fidelity. More inscrutable than a murder at an old-fashioned smorgasbord. Includes industrial expressionist collage insert. Edition of 100


Bren't Lewiis Ensemble - The Thirteenth Century German Poet (And Who Can Forget Him)  CDr £5

Butte County Free Music Society

Rampant gaping immensity and pathologically polychromatic hoot from the BuFMS wing of Saint WTF’s Asylum. Micro-episodic tape pieces (with a head-spinning variety of appropriated voices, noises, electronics, music and sound effects) merge with field recordings, cut-ups, loops, improv, live performances, and a range of cover versions that includes a Korean plastic surgery infomercial, bona fide poetry, a book review, a YouTube waif, and Van Morrison. The group delivers pastoral yet alien meander à la The Way Out by The Books, spots of electro-creep worthy of Ruth White’s Flowers Of Evil, entertainment at a LAFMS barbecue, and a variety show extrapolated from the A.M. radios in the background of Firesign Theatre’s Everything You Know Is Wrong. A dazzling and peculiar assemblage. Edition of 50.


Lawrence Crane - Craniostomy Vol. One  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

The founder of Tape Op magazine and Vomit Launch recorded and self-released numerous cassette-only albums throughout the ’80s, mostly passed around to friends and fellow noise-makers, consigned at local record shops, and traded with like-minded travelers through the mail. One reviewer wrote, “The echoing sounds, pulsating tones, and other space age noise creations melodically swim through the compositions, occasionally colliding in dissonant tones that pout over the rhythm, sometimes created by a fuzzy bass or Schroederesque toy piano rambling.” Six previously unreleased tracks plus thirteen selections from a half dozen self-released cassettes, with Steve Valin of Ziplok on three tracks, and Matt Mumper on the full version of “Beor’s Theme.” Cover art by Karen Constance. Edition of 100


Idler Arms - Kubelik Unbugged  CDr £5

Butte County Free Music Society

Forty-six minutes of slightly off-kilter, instrumental soundtracks for non-existent, noir-ish movies, edited from three hours of improvisational boombox tapes recorded in the late '80s by Larry Crane (Vomit Launch, TapeOp), Mark Evans (Fat Chick From Wilson Phillips, Uh-Moncst), and Lucian Tielens (Bren't Lewiis Ensemble, Serious Problmz). Kubelik Unbugged collects straight excerpts with no additional processing beyond modest crossfades; the trio’s spontaneously rendered squalls form a surprisingly coherent patchwork a la Obscured By Clouds, filtered through the atmospherics of 3R4 and retrofitted for a Doug Roberts-directed episode of The Twilight Zone. Edition of 50.


Serious Problmz - Nervous Youth  CDr £6

Butte County Free Music Society

The featured guest on half the tracks on this obscure 1980s quintet’s second BuFMS disc is Cole Marquis (28th Day, The Downsiders, The Snowmen, The Marques), whose guitar playing merges his recognizable elongated twang and loosened psychedelic drawl with Serious Problmz’s industrial rurf (aka very damaged rural surf). The sustainable clang cultivated by Marquis, guitarists Lucian Tielens and Mark Evans, Thor Heglund on Mattel Synsonics drum machine, and Dave, the inevitable bass-player whose last name no one remembers, supports vocalist Felix Mace’s hazy, sun-burned encounters, who recounts in full voice with autobiographical authority episodes from a sketchy drifter’s harsh journey across peculiar landscapes made of salt, through disorienting urban environments, to the middle of somewhere or somewhere else. The apocalyptic tale covers survival techniques such as boosting toilet paper from public restrooms, transporting hitchhikers and potentially lethal alien larvae, avoiding capture by whomever or whatever is pursuing them, and finally mutating into some new kind of disturbed consciousness. Friend, it’ll drop your ass in the dirt.


Serious Problmz- 369 1/2  CDr £5

Butte County Free Music Society

This obscure ’80s quintet never released anything in their day, and performed live only a couple dozen times. The excerpts from their semi-private recording sessions preserved here (with minimal effort on a boombox) are pensive, quasi–industrial meditations peppered with dire and distorted melodies of immaculate brevity and the musings of disoriented hicks. The unhinged landscapes navigated by Serious Problmz would make Diane Arbus blush -- musical and poetic territories littered with paranoia, dread, desolation, emotional and psychological predation, spookily anthropomorphic farm animals, and objects of inexplicable provenance. As players, guitarist Lucian Tielens, Thor Heglund on Mattel Synsonics drum machine, Felix Mace on vocals, lyrics, homemade noise-makers, and assorted objects, guitarist Mark Evans, and Dave, the inevitable bass-player whose last name no one remembers, achieve a comfortable familiarity with one another, without sacrificing the ramshackle spontaneity essential to their brand of very damaged rural surf (aka rurf). Guests The Whitefronts’ Phil Smoot and Tim Smyth of Bren’t Lewiis help push the primitive jams in new directions with elements such as running water, the clack of a manual typewriter, a telephone ringing, random clangs of a metal canister, and the sinister grinds of an electronic corn-and-callous remover.


Glands Of External Secretion & Decaer Pinga - Tubular Bells LP £15

Starlight Furniture Co.

A no-instruments interpretation of Mike Oldfield’s epic instrumental performed by Glands of External Secretion (side one) and Decaer Pinga (side two), in which deficiency is the cornerstone. By intentionally limiting themselves to prerecorded tapes, field recordings, electronic devices and effects, out-of-context musical passages, and anything else that did not require a musical instrument to be played, both bands interpret their respective halves of this legendary opus with methods that seem to run counter to the spirit of the original, yet paradoxically force it to shine through. Limited edition 300 copies.


Glands Of External Secretion & My Cat Is An Alien - From The Earth To The Spheres split CD £8

Very Friendly

Fierce blonde Barbara Manning and Bananafish founder Seymour Glass are joined by Nels Cline on lap steel for “Icebox,” a slow ascent from isolation through frozen tape manipulation, icy drones, and subtle infernal groans from the obscure side of the moon. The unearthly fragmented vocals of the Italian Opalio brothers create the heavy, emotional textures of the interstellar “After the Meteor Shower,” with howling guitars and electronics, the distant echo of a drum, and a whispered chant emerging from the concrete surface of the planet.


RRS - Card Funk LP £14

Cardboard Club

RRS aka Robert Ridley Shackleton aka The Cardboard Prince unleashes his first full length vinyl LP after countless cassettes and CDr's (and a 7"). Come and get yr card hard with the bedroom sermons of a outsider funk snack master. Lo-fi, lurid, lyrical & life affirming stuff.

Antsy #1 Booklet £5


The premier of Dustin Krcatovich’s squirmalicious publication. Interviews with The Space Lady, Ben Russell, and Dominic Coppola. Plus: Fargo, North Dakota scene report by Austin James Marts; the making of “The Ventures In Space” by Forest “Sikk Laffter” Juziuk; an essay by Nobody (fka Willis Earl Beal); a short play by Anna Vitale; noise poetry by James Victor Yeary; and drawings by Ash Wyatt
Perfect bound, 44 pages.


Blood Stereo / Hair & Treasure - split LP £12

Discrepant Records

So successful is this split-LP at hoovering up every last atom of vitamin B12 from the listening parlor, it really oughta come with vouchers for a cobalt patch. Not that eerily smooth and slightly red tongues are totally lacking in merit — rule thirty-four and all that — but there are occasions when a person needs to stand up without fear of keeling over.

Karen Constance and Dylan Nyoukis’s “Six Soddened Scenes” effortlessly ushers believers through their funhouse hexagon like a couple of one-armed juggler docents. A plastic bottle rattles inside a lettuce spinner, maybe, and it’s more refreshing than a tumbler full of iced bees (docile when served chilled, but they wake up in your mouth); machinery grinds during upper respiratory trials in a sitting room, not to be outdone by the beauteous overdriven shred of Ali MacKinnon’s amplified foghorn blarf; scratchy Brillo remnants and snippets of Bollywood soundtrack hover above scenes of escape pods about to sink during the systematic decay of the mothership hull, each rivet popping one at a time. Murky woont, fractured lost-life howls, and tiny screechlets define the slow-mo suffocation of an audience of easily spooked walruses who can create a stampede of fat with the slightest provocation (you do not wanna get in front of that, seriously); monologues worthy of Jodorowsky make their presence known among passages of ivory tickling, typically judgmental chickens, and equine asthma demonstrations. The mockery of swooping ducks requires a heads-up, what with their air-bending wing extensions that emit gnarly death cries appropriate to WWI myths, digital feedback, bass amps, and the heavy condensation of anxiety into hard, hairy, sweaty balls. Lady Clackarella and her magnetic sisters pick at the metal washers under their skin and leave trails of ooze everywhere they go. One section, seemingly designed to resemble evacuation from the digestive system of a sentient cabbage, should convince some listeners that they are, in fact, Crohn’s Disease with shoes. Looped and cut-up piano slip through the haze of a recital hall filled with addicts vaping carolina reapers.

On the flip, Hair And Treasure’s stingers throughout “Juno Lake Loop(s)” remain sharp enough to deface one’s concept of space. Vestibular heat radiates from the mirrored walls of Alex Jones and Gonçalo F. Cardoso’s wobbling honeycomb — indeed, the contrast and activity of their montage rivals a newborn infant’s takeaway from baby’s first episode of Spongebob. Colored vinegar fountains immortalize the sacred gurgle; death snorts commemorate distant string ploink; an organ dirge is jauntified and reimagined as a drained-pond shanty; the flutter of rubber swimfin on facemask and the crackle of cattails getting snapped off provide the necessary dinner theater overture. Gag-and-raspberry cut-ups are peppered with Mirounga ululations; contestants joust blind-folded; volunteers regret having agreed to high-speed bandage removal; pizzicato ploink bouquets flourish like the bursting blood vessels in a drunkard’s last remaining bits of uncorrupted cartilage. Top-shelf grunts provide deep satisfaction; the appetite for deep-fried breaded chainlink fence is whetted by the scraping of the barrel; virtuoso paddle boing elicits titters and giggles easier than two nudists scooping cloudy oil out of a vat; the reed-abusive whine of oblique wind / brass / licorice protocols mimics advanced inhalation strategies for newly mono-nostrilled scotoplanes. The league of refrigerator-trapped amphibians assemble (heralded by encoded somnambulant chirps and sci-fi bleep bloop passed along via networks of malfunctioning baby monitors), and drift isolated in a gelatin cube where accordion–harmonica woont bends and refracts in delicate intersections of tropical weather anomalies; imploding treefrogs remain calm during their noble self-sacrifice for the greater good; the anal growls of a twenty-one-duck salute morph into pronunciation guides for… something (it’s encrypted, so who knows). The sound of Zugly keyboards rippling through corrugated tunnels indicates closing time at the Nystagmus deficiency theme park.

Whether you’re struggling with a touch of anhedonia or just feeling dumbfounded and angry, these two collages will knock the desire back into you. The blissful wooze of aneurysms proliferates inside crystal balls until they pop, scattering into stammer-inducing arrangements where you can’t tell what’s facing up and what facing down. If nothing else, Discrepant’s release of this pair of masterpieces of maniacally telescoped Scheherazadian novellas proves that freak-scrambled history is one worth living for. - Seymour Glass


Six Heads - Cardboard Oracle LP £10

Wintage Records and Tapes

Surreal collage and engaging avant creep-core from a Toronto sextet led by William A. Davison (who has worked with Stephen Stapleton and Gastric Female Reflex). Found sound field-recordings, cut-ups, circuit-bent electronics, and homemade instruments are the tools of these sci-fi induced, satanic backwoods Ozark jams housed inside two-color sleeves screen-printed by GFR's Andrew Zukerman on old LP jackets and spray-painted by Disguises' Kevin Crump on cardboard flats. Hand-stamped labels.


Unborn Unicorn- Unborn Unicorn LP £7

Heard Worse Records

Bay Arean Aaron Coyes (Mummers Eype, Heart Of Snow, Gromskull, Hisseaters and the Common Oracles label) fills your psych-folk-fuzz cochlea with echoes of Beefheart, Velvets, Spacemen 3, Dead C, and Kenneth Higney. Limited edition, imported from the big island of Australia, handmade recycled classical jackets.


Norbert Möslang- Fuzz_Galopp LP £10

Bocian Records

Amplified, pulsating sounds of cracked everyday-electronics by former member of Voice Crack, pioneers in the field of sound installation techniques usage in live improvised music. Rhythm is a primal foundation of fuzz_galopp’s texture, based solely on mechanical objects, and its density and powerful dynamics are thrillingly vivid.


Due Process- Combine XXIII-XXXV LP £9

Phage Tapes

Combine XXIII-XXXV brings John Wiggins, Thomas Dimuzio, and RRRon Lessard back together, whose earlier efforts Option called “serious art damage that careens from ambient industrial to the astringent squonks, bleeps and clamor of ’60s avant-garde, to the angst-ridden sonic shards and noisy electronic reflections of the post-industrial mess….” Live recordings and Zanstones’ squeezebox ditties get squeezed through the ringer and agitated, and with help from their own brand of detergents and stripping agents.


Mama Baer- Bildnerei die Geisteskranken vol.2 - Ruhe  LP £9

Shamanic Trance

Glorious journey from whisper to testicle excision. Nauseating, repetitive. White vinyl. Edition of 300.


Gary Smith/Silvia Kastel/Ninni Morgia - Brand II  LP £9

L'Esprit De L'Escalier

Free improv by two guitarists renowned for their extended technique work and consistently inventive experimentation, and female electronics vocalist who explores the outer reaches of the voice. Seven rustling matches of self-containment, as if imprisoned inside a Styrofoam-insulated sleeping bag. Electro-chitters and micro-fweent form semi-transparent mosaics on top of the high-res screech of glass tchochtkes melting from the inside out, nth generation birdsong bending in on itself along an event horizon, color-blocked abstractions of mechanical squirrels playing a kalimba, and wolf fetuses horking into a trumpet. With master percussionist sound sculptor Marcello Magliocchi. Includes insert. Edition of 175


Gary Smith/Silvia Kastel/Ninni Morgia - Brand  LP £7


Heavyweight improviser, stereo guitar pioneer, and Aufgehoben guitarist Gary Smith has you covered in the multiple layering, complex grainy textures, dense counterpoint, influences of birdsong department. Fused with this is the guitar of free improv innovator Ninni Morgia, which floats between minimal movements of primordial electronics, pre-war slide blues and Hendrix-esque feedback. La Barbara and Torchia protégé Silvia Kastel’s moaning, screaming and howling alternates with her delayed, bubbling, glitchy or round bass synth. It’s a dense sound for three people -- not just visceral and intense, but articulate and defined, and in some instances very delicate. It’s got the deep taste of fearlessness of tempo, pulse, more conventional musical devices, or pushing to unpredictable extremes.


Factrix / Control Unit - Elegy For Rusted Souls  LP & 7" £10


The first new, previously unreleased music since 1982 by San Francisco industrial pioneers Factrix, together with Italian duo Silvia Kastel and Ninni Morgia. The quartet uses guitars, bass and electronics in their fusion of acoustic and electric elements, primitive rhythm patterns and ghostly, No Wave-ish vocals.


Kommissar Hjuler und Mama Baer/Silvia Kastel & Ninni Morgia- Two Couples  LP £9


"Two Couples is a collaboration between German artists/performers Kommissar Hjuler and Mama Baer, and Italian musicians Ninni Morgia (guitar) and Silvia Kastel (synth and voice).
Kommissar Hjuler and Mama Baer are known for their provocatice, neo-dadaesque, often extreme art and performances; and have previously worked with Smegma, Thurston Moore, John Wiese and many others. They have performed and exhibited all around the world and are part of the NY collective NO!Art Movement.
Ninni Morgia has become well-known in the NYC improv-free jazz scene, has played among others with William Parker, Daniel Carter, Peter Evans, Kevin Shea, Quivers, the psychedelic rock outfit La Otracina, and started the noise rock band White Tornado back in the 90’s. Silvia Kastel graduated in sound engineering and electronic music in NYC, studied singing with Lee Torchia and attended workshops with Joan La Barbara. She also runs the Ultramarine record label.
The music on Two Couples is a fusion of musique concrete, avant-garde, tropical psychedelia, moaning, screaming, free jazz and lots of raw synths."


Daniel Menche & Anla Courtis - Yaguá Ovy  LP £10

Mie Music

Based around the Argentinean mythology of the Werewolf, or “the blue dog” that lives on the “land without evil” of Mbya-Guarani, the first collaboration by Menche and Courtis whips up primal and natural noise. Menche draws out the sound and resonances found lying in snow and rocks while Courtis bewitches pizza sauce cans and his guitar, creating this mind flaying homage to the mythical wolf.


Izititiz - Lucky Bird  CD £6


Featuring: Ras Moshe/James Duncan/Carter Thornton/Jesse Wallace/Matt Heyner. "New York's IZITITIZ presents Lucky Bird, a work inspired by such personalities and artifacts as Alan Arenius, the roof of ABC No Rio, Animal, a pet pigeon, Nami Yamamoto's Freedumb and a set of Hinthouse chimes. The music is envisioned as a soundtrack to the story of a manimal drummer's search for a mythic box of Cuban Jade hidden in a paper bag. Along the way he meets a pigeon named Lucky Bird with whom he shares an affinity for dancing around socks to drum solos. While they dance, two ghosts appear: Zashiki-Warashi and Kattorimatto, two dead idiots from the clan of Takechi Samurai. Rounding out the group is a flamingo trainer, desperate for any adventure which will help him escape from the Northern authorities."


rlw - Early W4: Ajatollah Carter  CD £6


Live recordings from 1980 by avant maverick Ralf Wehowsky (PD, P16.D4) and crew. Debauched, low-key back-room skronk of the sort incorrigibly unskilled combos such as Door and The Window have delighted dozens of listeners worldwide meets the beyond-rational improv that over-educated Euros can play drunk off their asses on Jagermeister. Numbered edition of 444 copies, in a textured card gatefold jacket.


Cristal - Homegoing  CD £7

Hand-Held Recordings

J. Anthony, G. Darden, and R. Donne (Labradford, Spokane, ex-Aix Em Klemm) journey through simmering electronic, wide-screen vistas to seismic, swelling and undulating soundscapes. From the shifting sands-like textures of “Yoke” (replete with deeply moving, melancholic cello sifting through the ether) and “Streaming Wisdom” to the ever-so-slightly somber tones of “Dead Bird,” Homegoing is a wondrously thought-provoking, uplifting aural adventure. A technicolor travelogue of things possibly lost, possibly not. Available previously as a free digital download with Swedish Child seven-inch, (Flingco Sound System 2010), Hand-Held’s first-time-on-CD reissue has two unreleased bonus tracks, including a Pan American remix.


Rinus van Alebeek - Plays Luc Ferrari - Cycles des Souveniers  CD £7


Recorded by Rinus van Alebeek. Voice by Brunhild Ferrari. Recorded by Rinus van Alebeek in Montreuil, 29th of October 2010. Unmixed and unmastered. Produced by Michal Libera. Cover artwork by Aleksandra Waliszewska


Kou Katsuyoshi - Deaf In Sugar Avalanche  CD £8

Wildlife Insect Fish

Guitarist Katsuyoshi Kou was born in 1983. In addition to performing as a soloist, he collaborates in a project with Masahide Tokunaga and Takahiro Kawaguchi, a duo with Satoshi Hironaka, and the group Soundings with Toshiji Mikawa, Ko Ishikawa, and Tatsuhisa Yamamoto, among others. Kou's unique ideas and performance style shine in all of these activities. This distinctive CD consists of 99 tracks. While Track 1 is 21 minutes 50 seconds long, the rest are extremely short: Tracks 2-93 are 8 seconds each, and 94-99 are 4 seconds each. On first listening, a sustained noise sound seems to continue in a uniform way through Tracks 1-93; but closer listening reveals that the noise is coming from the left channel only, and either total silence or an occasional extremely soft guitar sound is coming from the right channel. On the other hand, the final 6 tracks of 4 seconds each are completely silent. This sort of unexpected development is a specialty of the amazing Kou.


Sean Pawley - the Ballad Of St. Zita  7" £5

Free Odds 345X

Outsider guitar grunk. New single by the man they call Chaumpers, following a silent decade on the mid-American plains. Guaranteed to tickle any and all fans of the following: wistful and reedy guitar melodies, ineptly recorded; boneheaded mystic poetry over a taut beat; murky, smoky runs thru an Andalusian cadence or 8-bar boogie; or any basement-grade tomfoolery, in general. As illuminating as ever. 100 copies.


Foi Pour Pusillanime - Foi Pour Pusillanime  7" £5


Six micro-compositions by Caroline Ehretique (Ondes Martenot, voice, piano, analog synth, electronics, and whip) and Ogrob (analog synth, wind, chiropteran echolocation, railway signal, screams, electronics), oscillating between musique brut, musique concrete and captured nightmares. Hand-made sleeve, linocut on both sides. Edition of 300.


Balinese Beast - Soft Offerings  7" £5

self released

Three tracks of frenetic cut-up rhythm coming from treated feedback and overdriven saxophones, recorded live at Olga’s Laundry in Athens, Greece. Edition of 287.


Inspector 22 - Hey Man, I Understand  CD £6

Odessa Records

“The tonality of [the six-minute centerpiece of this album by Chapel Hill musician Todd Emmert] ‘Tea With Pazuza’ recalls two avant-garde godheads,” proclaims Indy Week, “Charlemagne Palestine and … Tony Conrad…. Maybe that’s a saxophone blowing … grainy notes…, occasionally pushing the microphone past its capacity…, a violin scraping the sky in the distance, its mean tone stretching like a filthy canvas made of flesh…, a split, spliced, and essentially subverted boogie-woogie piano line [coming] from every direction…, but its peculiarity [turns] textures into a labyrinth…. His music moves from busted country songs and scowling barroom anthems to long-tone, hypnotic instrumentals and propulsive, beat-driven pieces without a hiccup…. [This] agitated experimenter sport[s] a dashing sense of observational humor … and a gloriously intense appreciation for mangled tones.”


L.Stinkbug - The Allure of Roadside Curiios  CD £6

Starlight Furniture Company

Formed in 1997 by guitarist G.E. Stinson with bassist Steuart Liebig and guitarist Nels Cline, L.Stinkbug consciously chose to complete their line-up with a drummer who could groove -- percussionist Scott Amendola. Both Stinson and Cline prepare their guitars with an assortment of springs, toys, paint brushes, an electric drink stirrer, enough clips to make a beautician queasy, an egg whisk (that’s right, an egg whisk) and numerous other custom-made objects, and run them through a variety of effects, harmonizers and looping devices; same goes for Liebig -- chopsticks between the strings, looping devices, extended technique, the works.


Lee Ranaldo - Broken Circle/Spiral Hill  CD £6

Starlight Furniture Company

Five early ’90s tracks by one of the original lords of howling, including a Sebadoh cover. With cover art by Michael Morley (of The Dead C. and Gate), this is the flailing ultimate in rubberized, flatline wawaaarph.


Sun Of The Seventh Sister - Farben Raum  CD £5

Heard Worse Records

Sun of the Seventh Sister’s debut CD -- a woolly mammoth of mushroom-fueled free-psych -- follows a 2007 New Zealand tour triple-lathe-LP and a septuple-cassette boxset on Breakdance The Dawn. The floating line-up ranges from ten to twenty-five players (with members of xNoBBQx, UnAustralians, Arse Lunch, Cock Up Shitting Whore, Rats With Wings, Stasis Duo and others): multiple drummers, multiple electrified chordophones, horns, vocals, oscillators, etc. Imagine half a dozen freak-folk ensembles congealing into a psychedelic din of Borbetomagan proportions. The CD consists of three immense tracks, taken from a three-hour session, lovingly recorded by the Pulled Out mobile unit, with mastering analysis by DJ Beefcurtains.


Mr. Hageman- Twin Smooth Snouts  LP £12

Starlight Furniture Co.

Old time favourite round here inside Wino Lodge. Songs to grease the heart and the brain.

"Oddly distorted guitars, mangled erhu, manipulated violas, unrecognizable African percussion, bouncy Hagemanizer™, bizarre noises, and found nonsense looped, stretched, chopped, sped up, and warped by Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 guitarist. "- Starlight Furniture Co.