BUFFALOMCKEE / SATORU SEKIGUCHI
Prepare for Afternoon Uropods
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $7.00 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. “A washing machine full of pink Jell-O and a metal bird in a wire cage drops ball bearings into a silver cup of clam chowder,” says Rick Potts. “Now submerged and the dolphins are not friendly. Taken prisoner and led to their plastic grotto. The escape hatch jets hurling into the wild blue. Dinner at the girlfriends & Camera Dad drops nuts. Jamming in an endless toilet stall where Fahey plucks off high mid-ringers. At a toy Disco party in space then tin fingers join in and a lunar wind chime falls over onto a crystal harpsichord while the bass vacuum cleaner ejects hot air. Hallways leading away from the empty swimming pool where otters roll on a glockenspiel, napping. Head hit and blacking out with sparkle vision as the sides close in. Memories of taking an evening walk and a drunken synth band echoes between buildings. Sound waves doubling and colliding into themselves. The drug kicks in and it’s off and running in a 70s cop show. A muscle car brodies around the corner liquor store. A Malayan tapir sax hose is spraying over kitchen canisters and garbage disposal ants are sanitizing with ultrasonic guns into drainage pipes to the storm drains full of broken bicycle parts. The telephone may be broken but clearly no one is answering. A swallowed mic played through a wheelbarrow speaker as hinges sing in rusty unison while a doorknob is bowed. Distant car horns. In the undercarriage of a bumpy rumble seat hardware is jingling as it slowly comes undone into a muddy patch and the exhaust pipe is full of gelatinous grease. Not sure we’ll make it but I see a break in the clouds. Nope, we’re stuck. Racket balls hit against the wall of a Data Centre full of copper carpenter bats. Drones try to intercept but it’s futile. Squadrons emerging but the bats and drones intersect like a M. C. Escher print. Monkeywrenchs do their work and the steam hisses out and it all deflates into the rubble. Police and news crew helicopters arrive and illuminate the scene. Rubber clogs are on a marimba putting out the trash bins while trying to start the incinerator with a flint and a pocket watch. The tennis shoes tumble in the dryer. Not a good smell. Drinking out of a twisted bong. Damn, it spilled… again. Clocks erupting springs and gears and circuit board flotsam in a factory of suction cup machines while Mr. Hulot roboticly dances and containers overflow. The relentless error indicator alarm is ignored.” Edition of 50
OAKLAND REDUCTIONIST ORCHESTRA
West and East Baying
(Queen Bee Records) CD $15.00
The house band for sfSound’s West Oakland Sound Series, with its predilection for lowercase, fricative, and reductionist improvisation, often sounds more electronic than acoustic. A live concert recording from The Lab in San Francisco and a studio work recorded in a controlled environment in Berkeley are both evolving long-form structures. On “West Baying,” sounds and textures gradually morph into the next, while “East of West Baying” treats the recorded instruments as source material for a work of musique concrète re-composed by Matt Ingalls. With Monica Scott (cello), Danishta Rivero (voice), Cody Putman (bassoon), Kanoko Nishi-Smith (koto), Lisa Mezzacappa (bass), Joshua Marshall (tenor saxophone), Kevin Ck Lo (violin, flute, piano, objects), Cheryl E. Leonard (natural-object instruments), John Ingle (alto saxophone, baritone saxophone), Matt Ingalls (clarinet, bass clarinet, contrabass gardenhose), Ron Heglin (trombone, tuba, voice), Diane Grubbe (flute, bass flute), Sarah Grace Graves (voice), Jacob Felix Heule (percussion), Tom Djll (trumpet), Kevin Corcoran (percussion), Chris Cooper (guitar, electronics), Kyle Bruckmann (oboe, english horn).
Occultations
(Chocolate Monk) 2xCDR $11.00 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. The unlikely combo of amp, synth and lyre allow Peter Blamey, Anthony Guerra and Moss Hopkins push themselves further out, way the hell out there, sonically and psychically. The playerd dig deep into their own processes and materials, drifting and shattering their way into a group sound experience that is equally open and intense, like sleepwalking on ice. Edition of 50
KAREN CONSTANCE / DYLAN NYOUKIS
Voice of an Ankle
(Chocolate Monk) CDR + cloth tote bag $24.00 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. Given the hard choke placed on new encyclicals pulsing out of roof-top loudspeakers throughout the Upper Ditchling region, we could all be forgiven a moment of diaper-moistening hysteria when the Constance-Nyoukii get publicly audible. It's a legit occasion. Your cool will successfully maintain if you have an intern standing by with a freshly laundered nappie. The tape-manipulated mouth yarbles of the title track target the voltage-sensitive calcium pods that line your pleasure node. Yoink, rrreeent, fwip, gah, n-n-nooop — it’s a full-service spa day for you and whoever sponges your shame. On the flip is “The Well Designed Goat With Blubber Underneath,” a murkier and more segmented creepy-crawl than twilight centipedes the size of Neil Diamond gargling soft-boiled eggs. Even doctrinaire loyalists within the Federation of Lumpy Rutherfords must at some point take time away from the liner notes of the latest Anthology of Elevator Interiors to have their very finite oatmeal seasoned with something a bit more container-averse, and this be the vista-encompassing electro-acoustic musique concrète du jour what could bring ’em back. For you, it’s just another Thursday. Tidy the welcome mat, set out your finest crudités, and you are good to go. C26. The tote bag is 14" x 15.7", black ink on olive, 170g weave, earth positive, 50% recycled cotton and 50% organic cotton. Edition of 50
Standing Below Documentaries
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $7.00
“Craig Stewart Johnson explores dusty corners of life in the seven separate pieces that make up Standing Below Documentaries” reports Joe Murray.” His specialism is, of course, surfing the mobius twist, navigating that ouroboros nosh with techniques deployed that reveal a singular approach to music, thinking and visual art. It will never end but it will continually smear, redact, erase and surgically slice. This is no wanton reductionism. There is a universe of subtle crawling detail awaiting a hungry listener. Tones rise like eggs joyfully surfacing in boiling milk, exposing their proud, smooth curves as white bubbles suddenly crest the hot saucepan edge messing up the kitchen. Sloopy tape-wrek cools and crusts on the floor tiles, each mountainous ridge squelched under thick rubber crocs. The lonely piano sobs in the corner, yellowing teeth pulled by distracted rusty hands for an eternity. This endless work uncovers the secret rhythm of the spheres printed onto each saddle-backed blood cell. Diary hacks! Where secret thoughts and longings are revealed. The babble of endless ‘content’ is given a sharp poke in the eye. The dictaphone, with its primitive condenser-ear, channels our words and phrases into glorious ghosts. Each rippling with fizzing static, mysterious as kirlian photography. It’s not all scuffed metallic rationality. Real beauty exists within these pieces, airy notes are placed like a ripe pear, a fat lute, a deep blue silk scarf in some varnish-darkened still life hidden away in a Ghent suburb. Lost at sea. The cruel ocean laughs haughtily at humanity’s concerns. But the groan of the rope, quickly lashed to the various planks and barrels keeping us afloat comfort us all. Fibrous stretch and release become a faint heartbeat of hope, the flickering creak of dreams. The wrench of an elbow pulled backwards. The explosion of pain, without colour or weight, dissolves into one million stars. Relief is a salve applied in thick greasy strokes. The bright dry crack of a walking stick on a polished wooden floor restores a strict order. Lazy bees fumble their cues again. Clotting in piss-yellow clouds. A subdued menace. The circle anti-clockwise and I find myself thinking, ‘is that normal behaviour?’ until the swarm spirals like a galaxy and is reduced to sweet-scented dust.” Edition of 50
Plays ‘The Third Testament’
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $7.00
A quivering, but generally random, asymmetrical balance of lo-fi outsider folk and dense headache-inducing digital/analogue tape blurt originally recorded for Father Yod’s now-abandoned series of album-length cover versions of the ESP catalog. Edwin R Stevens (Irma Vep, Yerba Mansa), Andrew Cheetham (Desmadrados Soldades De Ventura, Richard Dawson, Kiran Leonard), Pete Um and and C Joynes initially regarded their crazed-by-lockdown-syndrome take on the Godz album The Third Testament as unlistenable, but dang if the malformed little beast hasn’t grown into something with a unique coherence and energy all of its own. Edition of 50
The Phantasmogenetic Centre
(Hobo Borealis) paperback book $16.00
An outlying milestone in weird fiction, socio-sexual satire and artisanal plagiarism, The Phantasmogenetic Centre is a timely, cruel repurposing of the untimely words of dead and largely forgotten authors. This ghost-ridden pornographic antibildungsroman was carefully assembled no more than two lines at a time from hundreds of public domain books digitized by Project Gutenberg. Fragments of fiction, philosophy, psychology, erotica, biography, theology, poetry, mysticism and instructional texts form a coherent mosaic narrative connecting the nightmares of the early 20th century to those of the present day. See if this plot doesn’t resonate: Drawn to one another by their fear of women, three sexually overwrought young men of Edwardian England cast in their lot with a mysterious professor, heir to a South African diamond mine, whose underground laboratory houses an electronic brain powered by the residual thought-energy of putrefying corpses. Disillusioned first by boarding-school orgies and then by industrialized necromancy, the three friends resolve to enter politics with a daring proposal to banish women and children to a selective breeding facility on the moon. Routed by suffragettes, they are obliged to seek whatever remains of their fortune in the limb-strewn trenches of an unspecified war, where death waits as the penultimate disappointment. 174pp
A Good Deed Goes Wrong
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $7.00
Crud-fi noise and DIY sound assemblage captured in a vast, dilapidated mall scheduled fo permanent shut down and demolition. It follows an engineer’s journey containing themes of neglect, faint hopes, romance and possession. The mall never sleeps. It’s always on the phone. Edition of 50
RUDOLF FRIELING / SOOK-KYUNG LEE
Nam June Paik
(Delmonico / Prestel) Hardcover book $20.00
The book breaks down Paik’s work from throughout his five-decade career into four broad sections: post music; TV manipulations; collaboration as method; transnational trajectory and transcultural contexts. Robots made from old TV screens. Stills from video works. Views of room-sized installations. Archival materials and excerpts of Paik’s own writings. His exchanges with avant-garde artists, musicians, and choreographers, including Charlotte Moorman, John Cage, Merce Cunningham, Joseph Beuys, and members of Fluxus influenced a global network of artists and pioneered a radical and cutting-edge art practice. Essays by David Toop, Andrea Nitsche-Krupp, Grace Deveney, Susanne Neuberger, Valentina Ravagllia, Rachel Jans, Leontine Coelewij. 176pp
See It. Say it. Sorted. Final Lives UK
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $7.00
Live recordings by Mark Groves from from Cafe OTO in London and the Colour Out of Space festival in Brighton in April 2026. Variations on a common theme: an Australian expat banging on to an acquaintance visiting from Australia. Edition of 50