involving migraines and hospitals and a bunchof daniel clowes graphic novels and drunks in masks and arguments and tears and coffin carrying (which frankly is rather unsettling) and abstinence (from alcohol and nail-biting (both equally tortuous)) and absinthe and talk of the future and a worsening of work relations and sleeping a lot (never a good sign) and vomit and… well you get the navelgazing picture.
tumultuous. i like words with ‘uou’ in them. where was i? oh yeah tumultuous. and brainbombs aside (who can catch me in the pits of misanthropy and make me want to kill and rape hence not the best listen just now) this little wonder has been the soundtrack to a distinctly music free time. other than a jim reeves funereal mix…
is it a suitably synchronous aural accompanier? mostly yes. it’s a chimeric bugger. shuffling between drone and hazy chamber music and percussive klang and twinkle and a dose of the old concrete. in a way it’s fitting (personally speaking) that it soothes, excites and disturbs in equal measure, flitting between dreamy violence and delicate unease. or maybe i’m just reaching, reading too much into it, huh amateur psychologists?
so max bondi. i have the tiny wee public guilt cdcollaboration he did with destructo swarmbot bianca ala muerte (who guests on morendo). featuring a mélange of processed guitars and cryptic vox noises, veering between dreamy shoegazery and glitch e-lec-tri-city and detuned guitar and noise bastardry.
m presents much the same ingredients here (though with nothing like still’s wall of soothing aural brutality). from the opening organ drone wheeze and crystal chzing and clinklings of aleph, bet all the way to the closing water? noise and muzzy woozy fuzz of elonco this is a record of textures, of tactile touchable noise and sounds. all made on guitar and drums and keys and objects amplified and manipulated and soothingly stroked and viciously (mis)treated
it would have slotted in quite nicely, with minimal greasing, on constellation back in the day, particularly on the cello based alina (with oli from bhn) or when reminding me how ace hangedup’s clatter was on volante! all kinetic percussion and the squeal and squall of building string throb.
two swollen beasts form the heart of the album. in such seeming all things are is a swooning choral piece of discordant hymnal hypno drone. and the sixteen minute a desperate threnody glides easily from abstraction to celestial cum industrial guitar and/or synth drone (not too far removed from emeralds or james ferraro’s ethereal shimmerings) to metallic piano klang to decaying static crunch and hiss.
it’s another treat from tartaruga. the fifth (since i’m including the sourpuss dvd). all wrapped in the usual beautiful swaddling clothes – limited edition, hand numbered, insert and silkscreened card sleeve illustrated by bruno jones. perfection. again.
