THE GEROGERIGEGEGE

45 RPM Performance

(Dark Vinyl) Used CD $14.00

Our friends at Art No Art say that “the first track simply sounds like tectonic plates crushing Masami Akita to death,” while the second, with its “explosions and metal-on-metal action flooded in an ocean of reverb” provides an “overwhelming sensation of being at the foot of a skyscraper during a 5.0 earthquake….As far as recordings concerned with documenting the degradation and abuse of vinyl records are concerned, this 1992 release is the audio equivalent of dropping the needle onto sandpaper and scratching along to your favorite rap song.”

THE GEROGERIGEGEGE

Endless Humiliation

(Japan Overseas) Used CD $25.00

This 1994 disc is “one of the most eerie and haunting pieces of music Juntaro Yamanouchi ever bothered recording,” concludes Art No Art. ”Pretty much just a field recording of a drunk homeless Japanese man rambling over the sounds of an incredibly distant piano. Probably the quietest work done by the group…, either a long winded … social commentary or … created for or about Yamanouchi’s mother, who was supposedly a rather famous Japanese classical pianist.”

THE GEROGERIGEGEGE

Instruments Disorder (170 Songs)

(Mediacapsule) Used CD $50.00

“The genius of this rotating line up of freakish musicians and Gero 30 (an overweight, middle-aged man known to masturbate on stage during performances),” explains Sputnik Music, “comes from the fact that their music gives you exactly what you put into it…. If you expect a bunch of idiots making hardcore locked behind a thick layer of migraine…, [you get] a befuddling enjoyable noise album that plays out like Burmese or early Sore Throat trapped in a distortion pedal. On the other hand, if you go into it with an anti-art lens, looking for something like a much, much more frenzied Duchamp or Maciunas…, [this 1994 album] stands directly and boldly in front of the restraints called ‘music theory’ and ‘melody,’ spitting in their eyes. The overwhelming amalgamation of sloppily fast instrumentation pulsates at the heart of an avalanche of feedback and strife, burying the traditions of punk in a cascade of static…. Each fragment of this record starts to piece together slowly, melding into a continuous noise separated only by indecipherable yelps of Japanese song titles. The pulsating guitars shriek as the blisteringly fast drums go off the rails in a blaze of glory. As Instruments Disorder pounds on, the vocalist sounds more and more at wit’s end, like each second of hysteria hits him like a bullet through the chest…. Utter obtuse mayhem.”