fried and singed electronics from the coldest of the cold turkey's, andrew coltrane. the blend of hieroglyphic scribble and sax wrangling is brought over the course of two cassettes. just over an hours worth of material recorded on a self-tweaked tape deck, and to make matters even better, the master for one of the tapes snapped like a wishbone and had to be re-assembled at 905 hq. blaze the flight of the blind and see if you can guess which one! fun for the whole family! first non-norelco release in the catalog.
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circuit wound & wether - split - 905 tapes - cass - 6$
pretty much the second after i heard the master for circuit wound's "constellations" cassette (905.29) i asked jay howard to do a split with me. the dude came through beyond hopes again with an unwieldy knock out that goes from crushing to coma in a ten minute window. the wether track starts off weird, then goes big, then falls asleep. artwork by 'keavy psych' mceleney.
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brave grave is going to be an ongoing cassette experiment where artist choose a single instrument and proceed to shred, wail, or do whatever category of thrashing they so desire on that instrument for as long as they possibly can. little to no effects will be used, and there will be no editing at all after the session has run it's course. a raw exercise in endurance, tolerance, and curiosity. i'm beyond stoked to have forbes graham starts things off here, as we go way back, and i've always admired him as an artist. graham's weapon of choice for brave grave #1 is the trumpet, an instrument he has provided on recordings to dozens and dozens of artists all over the musical spectrum (the flying lutenbachers, erase errata, daughters, infidel?/castro!, raqib hassan to name a few) as well as his former group kayo dot. forbes hammers through two 45 minute sessions, blaring out nola jazz, lost lung noise, and what sounds like he is hitting a bong. holy shit.
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it's my opinion that james fella should be a household name. this guy, who also runs gilgongo records out of arizona, works with minimal, yet bastardize, static stains on floor sounds for no one. three tracks that seesaw high and low noise squawks. no form. no sugar coating. just sounds from inside the belly on a sick day from school.
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17 dungeon sludgers, mostly in one minute form, from philadelphian basementeers mat rademan (sanguine piss, newton) and marc zajack (sanguine piss, antler piss). dinged up, analog crud ranging from morbidly beast overkill to slimey throat closers. i bet these tracks were meant for c2s. mat knows i hate that sort of shit. so, in a way, "high bias" is a best of collection of shit that never came out, maybe they did? who knows. morally graytest hits.
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living is a documentation of live performances by mossy throats and wether. dan d (m.t.) presents some panicked pepsi jazz recorded in 2008 at the bertochi brothers' place. no-fi electronicsax for the mole people. mike h (w.) lays out the sounds from a secret lansing back alley gig, also from 08. a heavy and cluttered collapser with brad raub of pink desert helping out on the drum kit. feel the slow.
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the gleam duo unites in individual form for a 20 minute space jam, sans michael jordan. joe b brings the soft-to-the-touch keyboard/synth nod off into dreamland while sal pops the sci-fi guitar bubbles, mixing potions and all that shit. it's all pins and needles, and sound that becomes color.
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the corpse assemblage of wyatt howland, andrew kirschner, david russell, and zach troxell bring another dose of dirty rotton loops and bottom of the barrel scum philosophy to the 905 floor, this time sharing space with ratatosk, the drum/scum plower duo of ben billington and jason soliday. it's a dirty ride with no helmet laws.
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cincinnati's wju treat amplified reeds the way zed and his crew treated sweetchuck in the original police academy movie. it's just a brutal, fucked up mashing of sound as lorenz and rich coat every speck in beastly distortion. the duo is an early contributor to the 905 family, going all the way back to their split with torturing nurse (905.09), and drained vault is their mighty return to the fold.
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sprawling eurodrone from the crystal p. duo of benjamin laurent aman and sean fergus barrett. dudes lay down some nightmare thick leeches over the body and party like its 1799, getting all the witchcraft out of ya and sending it into the night. a weird mixture of bliss, misery, and satin oscillation from the sub-sub-basement.
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all aboard cruise on the alien ship for an hour and a half cosmo mind ride. d/a a/d handles the low-end, analog rumble take off while nodolby communicates back to the home planet, full fledged warble style. fly high, get probed, wake up in the woods.
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travels is the collaborative efforts of andrew kirschner (relentless corpse) and mike haley (wether). two tracks, assembled through the mail, of gut deep, seeping black waste. dark claws grabbing a hold of your jaw and ripping slowly.
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more beyond low-end bone crunchers from conneticut chem brothers christopher donofrio and donovan fazzino. these dude's put in the overtime to keep the out-of-body experiences in the news and the sports bloopers in the vhs. (edition of 38)
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portland mucas maker frozen body forks over two more infected bone breakers. crackling electronics holding back the crushing rush of industrial zone roars. zero days without an injury. (edition of 40)
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for those unfamiliar with matt hill's work with justin wright/expo 70, get prepared for a serious goosebump laden night walk. hill entangles mile long gauzy drones and tiny looped pin pricks with acoustic plucks and dives that will take your brain straight to the aquariam after hours. these are compositions that leech onto your stomach and slowly work their way through you, eventually coming out of your back. it's a crime this dude doesn't have more released. (edition of 44)
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working as the four piece of farr, michalchuk, payne, and smith, fossils discharge even more of their squawk and squabble basement embrasement while the p.n.s. unit of haley and merrick pile the neck high reverb onto surrounding sounds. (edition of 60)
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live set, recorded late 08 at an ithaca, ny gig with slither, evenings, and american sphinx. dirty reeds done dirt cheap. just pure, murked down, mudded out layers of basement non-jazz crud. (edition of 40)
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four tracks, totally void of form. an ocean of nebulous electronics and vocal manipulations floating into each other. halfway buildups beneath partial fall outs, all carrying static algae residue on their backs. ohio sea sickness. (edition of 40)
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this is the cassette version of aughra's new full length that was released on lp and cd by magic bullet. aughra is the instrumental solo effort of brent eyestone, who makes up half (the chinese half) of big china & little trouble. "proof of dark matter | light the lights" is equal parts of both eerie, creeping horror-movie-inspired isolationist chillers and soaring, feel-good, dynamic melody. the end result is an engrossing foray into a world of instant nostalgia, hautning instrospection, and intangible inspiration from shadowy sources.
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kevin mceleney of drougther and scott miller of al qaeda team up and set loose four eerily dense abstractions. cold, ocean drainers toppled with metal on metal crashes and what sounds like tightly shuddering vocal tarps. peel back your face, man. peel it back.
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burke's time traveling expedition into a future that isn't created yet. you arrive and no one is there. nothing has been built yet, nothing has been destroyed or forgotten. just a total forever nothing kinda landscape. close your eyes but don't see black for a second. just see white. or something that is beyond white to the point that nothing is there. soft and rich and ultimately enjoyed lying down.
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ten minute oil barrels of banshee thumps on infinite repeat, two brothers reformatting brain cells and pony tails with each crudded lump. mildew falls into the submerged basement zones with minimal, corrugated cardboard sound sheets that ooze booze.
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the second meeting of clerics, but only the first time i actually was aware we were even playing. let's go ahead and consider this the first meeting of clerics, which is the duo of sal giorgi (the vellum kid. peasant magik records, pillars of heaven) and mike haley (905 head honcho, local wether man). got together on a weekend at my place, possibly to settle that star wars argument we had earlier in the week. had a nice lunch then broke out the ultra heavy delay. we took some pictures in the tunnel under my house afterwards, but they didn't come out.
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more thick shards of stone and metal f/x labored and layered by the ohio dirt crew relentless corpse. a putrid mixture of narcotic blasts and cold vocals blended in a scumy fucking way. skunk jams, as if goldblum came back for the fly 2.
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various - brains on a backwash - 905 tapes - cass - 6$
this hour and a half compilation plays almost like one long brain melter rather than twenty one seperate artists. that means no gaps between tracks. in fact, there is some slight overlay when it was called for to keep the boiling going. all over the noise spectrum jams from cock e.s.p., tonight golden curls, hal mcgee, tusco terror, oubliette, diaphragm, wether, skybirds, to live and shave in l.a., datashock, sky limousine, talibam!, head boggle, suburbia melting, hunting rituals, the lonely procession, reviver, d/a a/d, xiphiidae, slow listener, and andrew kirschner.
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neckhold - blackbile - 905 tapes - cass - 6$
these two aussies played an all day i.n.c. gig a few months back in philly and thrashed the room with some sickly ultra-violent feedback. i think the setup only consisted of a few pedals and contact mics, some of which were hooked up to a skateboard that was repeatedly bashed, and the results were thick and mangled. their ear bleeding harsh noise translate perfect onto tape. best well kept secret out there.
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a blown speaker rampage from glasgow's lea cummings solo affair kylie minoise. two more bloodthirsty avalanches added to the ever impressive portfolio that cummings has been building up. the sounds here fluctuates from dark and agonizing death rattles to piercing levees of gunk, mixing things up with heavy delay when needed.
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saw these dudes rip it a few years back and was hooked, so i'm stoked to bring a brand new slab of scum from the canadian basement chain gang disguises. full on drums/fungus/synth/murk bottom fed blasters. these dudes blend lumbering waste noise with stoned psych elements like no other. basically a guesstimate at form and an onrush of splurge.
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is - rogue wave - 905 tapes - cass - 6$
illinoizer brian tholl continues his pain-focussed dirt works on rogue wave, a stark c40 with greyscale electronics and massive skull staplers. his sounds through is are like towers that are built up and sent crumbling to the ground, ending with rats scattering through the ruins. utterly bitter.
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parasite drone done lights-out style in a fume tunnel. no ventilation, total mind's eye light show dragging corpses through through the mud. reviver brings the collapse like nobody knows, solid ct solo style.
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these two pennsylvania units bookended a tour i did a couple of years ago and both mesmerized me with some profuse vocal/guitar drone mantras. both of these hypnotist mix up lush and thick styles, blending chants with subway rhythms that cause waves of dust and light to ricochet around the room. this is demon dirg turned up to shred. extra bonus with the stallions covering the subhumans!
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lee stokoe (skullflower/culver) / george proctor (mutant ape) creep collab of the tone dead basement variety. zombie tones that are insomniac from birth just searching for a warm grave. tangled up in the webs is fantasy-esque darkness that oozes an "under the bed / in the closet" macabre feeling. will leave you black in the bloodstream.
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sean and i lived together for a year, and within that time we recorded exactly zero seconds of blown doors material. maybe it was the cramped, suburban townhousery that kept the jams contained, that I don't know. either way, now that we are separated by a few miles the tones are blooming. the latest is this barn burner, a 92 minute cassette loaded from start to finish with heaps of static infused scorchers. recorded direct to tape in two back to back sessions. punishment. mics, electronics, and cell phones.
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i asked jay if he wanted to release a tape on 905 and he said he had a concept piece called constellations that I could check out. he said it was inspired by observing the lights of los angeles at night from the surrounding mountains. i've only been to la a couple of times, and not for a few years now, but I really need to head back west and get the hell up in those midnight mountains. the two ten minute circtuit wound tracks here play to oposite ends of the noise spectrum, but both consistently portray harsh poignancy throughout. lurking withing the light (side a) births a vivid image of scaling said mountains, dirt underneed fingernails. metalic-like feedback that, after 8 minutes, finally gives way to nebula inspired flickers. finally reaching the peak, a beautiful distant flickering tainted by corrosion (side b), is where the light takes over with throbbing gashes that walk the line between ambient and hoarse. so menacing it's like the lights are watching back.
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total unearthly takes on calmness and pain. the ettinger side might as well of been recorded in a lost temple. the reverb is threatening and dark. the clockwork percussion is looming. all with opiated vocals and bells. the wit work is a total flip on that, but the tracks still complement each other well. more of a future cruiser. sounds of space that fall into a black hole. good thing they turned on that supercollider.
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mutant ape is the mask worn by uk heavy head george proctor, who runs the turgid animal label. proctor has been utterly relentless throughout his time, dishing out punishing lessons of grim and severe noise. the attacks hold nothing back here with three solo lurkers and one collaboration with dean glaister (romance). when i started 905 george was one of the first people I asked to be involved. finally, prinsesen is dropping, with hopefully more in the near future!
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every once in a while things come together in a sort of serendipitous way. take this 3-way for example. i had thirty minutes of heat conference blissfulness that needed a good home, and then out of the blue, ctephin and avs fly in like doves from the dark (with the same amount of material) looking for shelter. just like that all of the pieces fit perfectly. makes you feel good about the universe. everyone involved commits two tracks, one per side, that have some sick druid-like undertones. some sort of ancient, mythical mist trapped in a kaleidoscope bomb shelter.
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late at night you can catch some of the best movies on television. i'm talking about shit made in the 1950's about what the 1980's are gonna be like, or surreal b-movies about santa clause being captured by martians. people are always wearing suits made out of tin foil and using lazer guns with 60 watt light bulbs, straight melting mother fuckers. well side a of this boggle'd mess is highly sync-upable with all of those sci-fi flics. in fact, this tape just may attempt to procreate with your species if you turn it up to loud. the b side is a total flip on the first half's quick synth nuggets. a dead man's zone tribute to morton feldman's "last pieces" done on piano. sort of like a sun's coming up, time to rest serenade. dude knows what he is doing.
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this is a second edition of a josh lay cassette i released in 2006 on the now defunct no horse shit imprint. only 29 copies were made the first time around, all which disappeared in a flash, so it seemed appropriate to breath new life into this beast. choleric filth from cadaver in drag member josh lay. side a of starts off with some minacious moans accompanied by the sound of rats crawling over single-stringed guitars and gnawing at instrument cables. this is soon done away with by a blowout of obese feedback and contorted shouts. the b side is no less distraught, as josh unlearns everything he doesn't know about music in the most grim of fashions. a tedious build up of clicks and pops covered in pus.
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the stay-blazed team up of conneticut's chris donofrio and donovan fazzino get up in them guts with some comatose low blows spread out over twenty minutes. tones get deep in the earth, take a nap in the crust, and are discovered years later when they forget to wake up. bring a blanket and maybe a few coffin nails.
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two more doses of shiflet drone, blazing here in the live variety, recorded earlier this year in st louis and cleveland. for those not in attendance, you can acquire mike's sleeperhold synth styleings here and get a second chance to wipe your brain off of your shoulders.
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905's first journey into non-noise band land, "i will catch you" is nine tracks of avant-pop music from leigh valley's memes. a reverb rich, aerial flooding of experimental jams that draw influences from sonic youth, animal collective, the turtles, and amps for christ. a blend of breezes and hurricanes spread out over thirty minutes. post 911 psychedelic.
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saw these dudes for the first time as a cohesive unit at a recent wiese / wether gig in philadelphia. i've been seeing mat perform as newton for a minute, and known jared for what seems like a decade. in recent years i've been floored by some one-off collabs he has done with matt franco and skeleton warrior, so i was way interested in finding out what those two dudes plus cohort marc zajack (deep fried tapes) had in store. their setup was fairly minimum... some mixers, pedals, and a couple of guitars tuned to untuned. from second one though the most enormous sounds ruptured through the room. i mean, shit was gigantic. every once in a blue moon you could think to yourself "oh, i think that sound is coming from that", but usually it was just a vulgar mess. asked to do a tape while smoking weed out of an apple in the back of the store, even though i remember there being a pipe earlier. i guess that just fit.
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two heads of the same beast, breathing fire and shitting smoke. droughter devours minds with a vocal shredding, feedback fucked wall of power that is hope enveloping and overloaded with eruptive hysteria. gnarly sheen changes things up with a dilated dronescape utilizing layers of lethargic currents. two reasons to put the entire ward on suicide watch.
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leavenworth, one of the most under-worshiped noize headz around, has been laying tracks of poison for a couple of years now in virtual secret. hailing from fly over country usa, this dude hovers blankets of paint stripping, bong ripping clamor on top of you until a rush of warmth and awkwardness flows through your veins. utilizing a blend of mixer feedback, pedal tickling, and radio transmissions, leavenworth blazes the room thoroughly.
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wether + a snake in the garden - split - 905 tapes - cass - 6$
head to head harshness from two solo east coasters. this split is kind of like a replay of a show in hartford, ct many moons ago. snake killed the dining room, then wether immediatly brawled the living quarters. if i could remember anything from that night, i would share it here, but it's all pretty much a brain musher. one burner a piece, both 10 minutes of steady pedal pummeling. three different covers.-905
third 905 effort to date. recorded a month ago while rains came down outside. walls melted and all the paint was lead. connolly's strings and effects played his fingers and vocal chords while haley 360'd the synths and delay. got diseased and mutated into moisture. (edition of 33)
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various - deaf in the valley - 905 tapes - 2xcass & art zine box set - 18$
deaf in the valley is an assemblage of killer sight and sounds from fifteen amazing artists who dabble in both crafts. the release consists of two pro-dubbed 30 minute cassettes and a full-color offset printed zine, all packaged in a brown kraft box with clear plastic lid, limited to 200 numbered copies. each artists involved contributed one page of artwork and one track from either a solo project or a group they are in. those included arethurston moore
john olson / lost anchors
joe denardo / growing
chris pottinger / cotton museum
christopher forgues / kites
witchbeam / telecult powers
heath moerland / sick llama
dennis tyfus / vom grill
brent eyestone / aughra
dan dlugosielski / mossy throats
britt brown / acid wash
daniel la porte / earth crown
joe breitenbach
jeremy bradley earl / the creeps
kevin mceleney / droughter