Borderline Dogfood
(Spleencoffin) CD $10.00
The BLE’s first full-length of 2023 is a table scrap pâté of junk percussion, recycled sounds, roasted tapes and electronics, surrealist soliloquies, and decontextualized lyrics squished through the meat grinder and smeared into a professionally replicated compact disc (not a CDR). After-hours sessions at Musiclandria in Sacramento in late 2021 – at the time freshly upgraded to a mammoth instrument lending library with a stream-ready live venue, a recording studio, and a community center — form the sponge-y foundation of much of Borderline Dogfood. Joining the irregulars were The Viper (a violinist who was a defiler of catgut par excellence back in the early 1980s iteration of Bren’t Lewiis, now resembling, as an added bonus, an Edward Gorey character come to life) and The Affable Chap (a recruit from the UK home office who hurled himself into the variety of gear and gizmos available at Musiclandria, especially items in the genus keyboards). With access to everything on the premises, from the synthesizers to the guitars, from the billiards table to the guts of a piano leaning against a wall, the Ensemble floods your delta with electronic doink, insectoid crackling, and brackish murmurs. They avoid becoming what John Whitson of Holy Mountain would describe as “a chance-oriented jam band” by framing everything between (and interrupting everything with) loops and fragments from field recordings and internet fails videos where behavior is modified by life crisis hormones and one deadly sin or another. If you wanted to call it “Olmec improv filtered through contemporary snartwave,” it’s unlikely anyone’d try to shove you down a flight of stairs. Mixed throughout are passages going back to 2017 from Lucian Tielens and the City Councilman’s weekly sessions at Fluxus Enigma in Fair Oaks, where anything can happen — grunt’n’moan montages, Theremin vs Stylophone battles, journeys to the dark evil soul of toys, contact mic endurance challenges, backing vocals by beautiful ol’ hounddogs with heads shaped like lightbulbs, objects rustling in a laundry basket... Shalimar Fox makes a rare appearance with a monologue about exerting the power of eminent domain on Pucci’s din-din. Meanwhile, a helium-dosed Lala Lu delivers her remarkable take on a bit o’ swill from the Disney canon, Tielens loses himself in the black forest that is the lyrics to “The Porpoise Song,” Gnarlos uses Pete Beck’s lyrics to the Dilwhip / Educated Mess / 28th Day track “Do You Know How It Feels” to conquer the baby monitor while standing in the parking lot, and then the slobber-drenched chewtoy is back in Lala Lu’s yap (metaphorically) for a Venus de Sunnyvale style reading of Misfits lyrics. The 17-minute “Emperor Guillotine Nukes A Lush Valley Using His Fingernail,” anchored by sessions at Hazel’s ’Lectric Washouse in Oakland, is especially grand, with Jimmy The Baptist’s worship of degraded guitar wheedle taking center stage, while psychological textician Tom Chimpson recites self-penned pre-hypnotic suggestions on “Executive Lullabyes Courtesy of Binky The Wonder Squid LLC.” Another standout is the complete soundtrack to the City-Councilman-edited 13-minute film “Lackey Demand Indicator,” which premiered at Wonder Valley Experimental Festival #14 in 29 Palms, California, in April 2022. Hand-screenprinted gatefold chipboard wallets. Includes download code. Edition of 100.
The Celestial Music Of Comfort Link
(Spleencoffin - SP39) Cassette $6.00 (Out-of-stock)
Slow-moving compositions of layered tape loops, deteriorating mechanical tape echoes, found sounds and spontaneous tape collage. An album full of density and texture with hiss-laden traces of lost melody. Our friends at the Cassette Gods blog compare it to interstellar resonance: “As the samples repeat and deteriorate, the audio, piped in from another place, causes feelings of discovery. It broadcasts the gradual thinning of a veil that separates worlds, exposing the frayed edges of lost portals.” Covers and cassette labels are hand-made from 1920s letterpress celestial diagrams with typewriter text. Opaque red cassettes. C40. Edition of 50.
Impression
(Spleencoffin - SP38) Cassette $6.00 (Out-of-stock)
Minimalist drone compositions by this modular synth master and visual artist, whose stark, textural pieces evolve over side-length explorations of raw analog synthesis.
Listen to an excerpt from “Manet” here: https://soundcloud.com/spleencoffin/christian-michael-filardo-manet-excerpt
Nothing Glimmers
(Spleencoffin - SP37) Cassette $6.00 (Out-of-stock)
Minimalist synths, mangled tapes, found sounds, and hazy depraved voices coalesce into slow-drifting murky textural pieces. Edition of 50.
Listen to “Nothing” here: https://soundcloud.com/spleencoffin/nightshade-gel-nails-nothing
Sacred Fire b/w Ghost
(Spleencoffin - SP40) 7-inch $7.50 (Out-of-stock)
Minimal, jagged guitar chords, saturated percussion, and the distinct voice of Heather Nicole Young (ex-Social Junk) on the A Side — all blanketed in controlled feedback sweeps and a generous supply of delay. On the flip, a more environmental piece with paired voices (one effected, one bone dry), field-like synth sounds, and a faint low-end pulse riding just below the surface. Edition of 300.
Listen to an excerpt from “Sacred Fire” here: https://soundcloud.com/spleencoffin/hny-sacred-fire-excerpt
Barry White Comes
(Spleencoffin - SP41) LP $15.00 (Out-of-stock)
The first new LP since 1999 by UK lo-fi underground veterans Phil Todd (Ashtray Navigations, Dogliveroil) and Joincey (Wagstaff, Dogliveroil) — notorious for incredibly short songs (typically two to thirty seconds of improv on cheap and broken instruments and pre-composed nonsensical lyrics) with verbose and frequently idiotic titles. Eighty-three tracks, individually banded. Classic, poorly recorded ineptitude.
Hear excerpts from Side A here: https://soundcloud.com/spleencoffin/inca-eyeball-barry-white-comes-excerpts
These Are Not The Final Days
(Spleencoffin - SP42) Cassette $6.00 (Out-of-stock)
A perfect distillation of the aggressive feedback and piercing synth deconstructions that characterize the live sound of this long-running noise project from Baltimore’s Alex Strama. “Busted beats, raw feedback, and near-punk,” says The Village Voice admiringly, “Particularly focused and amiably corroded.” Covers are printed in blue on translucent vellum J-cards with green cassettes. C30. Edition of 50.