Matt Shoemaker has kicked up quite a din here so let’s get right to unpacking Flight | Chromatic Splitting Injunction and the many tape-game rules it breaks. First off, loving the beats that spring, slither, and sprawl across the spools like snakes crawling under my ear skin. At the core, at least on Side A, we’re talking about a rhythmic exercise with very little melody afoot. And it works precisely because no unneeded elements get shoe-horned (no pun intended, Matt) into the mix. It’s not a rough trip because the edges are too smeared to cause blowback, but it’s not exactly easy sailing. If you trip on pop-driven Burger tapes don’t flip this puppy on your grill. Or DO, actually, what am I saying? You’ll cave when the drum-machine puke speeds up and glides into another bouncy, squishy hoo-ride that seems to be what flyin’, to Shoemaker at least, is all about. The desert is subsequently swept of sand and we’re left with a space-sucking void of bass and random dings/dongs. I use colorful language to describe it; don’t think that means I don’t respect it. This might be the most gratifying section of the entire tape, particularly when those snaky beats uncoil again and, maybe, just maybe, get ready to spring. You’re going to have to find out for yourself, as I only have so much ink to spare. Suffice to say, you won’t find many Side A’s with as much appeal as Flight; it just keeps going. And going. And going, ruling all the while. Side B (or, I should say, Chromatic Splitting Injunction) throws out the rulebook completely and ends up titillating the ear perhaps more than its companion. It’s more of an Eric Copeland (dare I say?) groove, only set in a bat cave or Skeletor’s castle or some shit. I got the 38th copy of this cassette but at the very least I believe you can download its contents in full at the link provided belowww. Shoemaker is an underground artiste to keep a close eye on (and it looks like he had a release out on Trente Oiseaux in 2002, trippy).
More about: Matt Shoemaker
