Posterior Vitreous Detachment
(Nyahh) 2xCD $16.75 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. "Beyond timing, past masterfully braided timbres, the six sides and 128 minutes of Posterior Vitreous Detachment aren’t just gorgeous musically, they are the lost sound library of Alexandria itself, an indefatigable degustation, squirming sushi along an undulating conveyor one glutting morsel climbing onto another, the eaten eating, a rising gorge of nascent hunger so that somehow there is room for all of it. S*Glass sustains 20-minute tracks without once tiring or sating or abusing the supple insides of the listener. Restraint is his secret. The admission of sampled speech sets the leg spasming at the phantom itch of language context. But it’s gone just as quickly, mind’s fading laugh, oh, then back again! And gone. This music is pieced together from silent scavengery. Found objects fleeing a burning field, spotted with a falcon’s eye, neatly picked off and tucked into their place, adorning a monstrous nest. There are scenes here we’ll never see for all the choking smoke. Search your thoughts as you listen and you’ll find you simply aren’t there. This is demonic music, a hologram in sound and sense, the parergon unseen, flushing us out. Beyond sensory immersion there are conceptual analogs to all these tracks as wide in sweep as the sound and timbres are deep in fathom. You’ll feel but never know them. Look into the face of this incalculable dimension, hope it returns a glance, trying your best for neoteny so it won’t snap, or, worse, ignore you. Hope the world keeps communicating its dimension, keeps probing you through the epidermal veil, hope for a buzzing plane above, distant screams of strangers behind, unstartable motors, raving expectorations, yes, tuneless ragtime against a church-steeple carillon, ache for a rusted car door, radio sizzle, diving-board rebound, stammering phonemes. What does it want? What is wanting?" —pHarmar Histamine
See and hear "See You 'round the Internment Camp" here: https://youtu.be/sMqmOIL18z4?si=yVN2dDUl344CSY45
MORGAN EVANS-WEILER / LUKE MARTIN
Pleiades
(Phons) CD $12.00 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. Improvised live recordings with an expansive sense of simplicity and togetherness from 2017. The environments and the bodies present in Holyoke, Buffalo, and Baltimore imbue the sounds of the performers’ no-input mixing board, cassettes, violin, sine tones with indistinct crosscurrents of lightness and heaviness, clarity and darkness, stasis and dynamism. Alongside subtly shifted pressures of the room, time slows and slips in these improvisatory currents, marked by unexpected points, across all three recordings, of a faint sonic and spatial constellation.
Blob #4
(Neil Martinson) Magazine $12.00
Finding the Findlays; Red Hot Scandals of 1968; Calling Earl Hindeman; Mnasidika / Bacanale; Joseph and Peggy Sarno; Take My Head! (Vice Versa); Francis Ellis / Jack Bravman; Meeting Jeff Jacob Lourie; Shadows and Visitations; Sitting with Roberta Findlay. 56pp.
Rippelpics & Rippelsounds
(Chocolate Monk) Magazine + CDR $13.50
Up at dawn, sweating like a dog, all senses afire, Dan Melchior wails into the void and uses his best crayons to make you some pix. The struggle is real, disappointment is not an option. Enter the puce room of his illusions at your own leisure. Edition of 50
Forever 12
(Chocolate Monk) Cassette $8.00
Brian Ruryk, the harmless guitar bully, whose bark is worse than his bite. Andrew No C Zukerman, the sound effect collector, audio pathfinder, maker of fine quilts (also known as Fleshtone Aura). When attempting to conjure the entity that is Cuddles, perhaps think big, loopy Baby Huey type cartoon character, or perhaps the sound of a male voice being sloooooowwwwwwed waaaaaaaayyyy the fuck doooooowwwnn. Both artists’ trademarks survive: broad moves; botched clots; supra precision; magic kingdom; asterisks; ellipses. Yes, it’s all here, my friends! Edition of 50
At the Buttock End
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $7.00
Hi, me again, no reception. Soft estrangement, isn’t it. White-chested laughing thrush? Somewhere between the Donisthorpe Colliery winding wheel, some chalk banks and Maghera beach’s open lagoon and delayed cliff echoes. Strung out, desperately cupping. Alfred got caught at the buttock end, RIP. Well, anyway. I’ll be thick for you here so you can go along now smarting, right? I’d say raise your head a bit and get breath in the pipes, maybe clout the keeper. And the field crisps up, mind you. Fol de rol, tora lie day. Edition of 50
Live at Bar Isshee
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $7.00
In these times of tit-imposed tariffs, Uncle Shonky and Little Big Man step up with an ear tax that is guaranteed to leave the more sensitive listener bow brained. This tête à tête of shop-bought and home-brewed electronics might have given ol’ Dave Tudor cavities but you respiring dweebs can wallow in the electrode slurp, drill, pitter and crunkle while feeling all the more peepy for it. Almost 80 minutes blissfully free of the curse of music. Cover art by Bill “The Face” Nace. Edition of 60