“Your tail, it looks magnificent to me. It looks like a disgusting visage of my own face.”
While rummaging around out there in the moldy shipping crates of the American noise underground, you’ll encounter plenty of eager characters who will offer in so many words to [blow] [split] [fuck] your mind straight open with the deranged contents of some new limited edition release. Such sexual terminology feels out of place in the context of, say, one straight hour of no-input mixer feedback, you think. You imagine the perved out sonics that would warrant a true “mind-fuck” scenario. You’re not sure you’re ready.
“Down the rope goes into the water.”
Standing over a basement merch table, a mustached man will hold a cassette tape under your nose and tell you that he’s got “that good good.” You will wonder if this man really has that good good. You compile a mental inventory of who, based on your noise schema, can really deliver that good good when you need it. One human face comes to mind.
“Let the skunk in your life.”
Brian Blomerth (a.k.a. Narwhalz of Sound) has followed up the gloriously twisted Looney Tunes lobotomy of last year’s Pork Dust with a new C40 entitled The Horny Bucket. Indicative tags on Soundcloud include: #Suffering, #Difficult Listening, and #Horny. If Blomerth’s brand of hypersexual canine-heavy surrealism wasn’t your cup of motor oil before this moment, it’s time to shred those hang ups and crawl on your hands and knees into his empire of perversion. It’s nice there. The aromas of various flavors of Slippy Syrup hang in the air, meshing with the aroma of Slippy the real-life dog. Blomerth’s comics line the shelves. You pick one up and you start to vape as you ease back into a questionable beanbag.
“It’s me, waving my dick around.”
Press play on The Horny Bucket and prepare yourself for a corrosive verbal wave of philias (e.g. zoo-, asphyxio-, myso-) croaked out from a gallery of disembodied voices. Over a hell of modular synth squeaks and ‘verbed out industrial percussion, you will come to know these characters. Rich with randomizing processes, hilarious text, and physically unsettling tones, Blomerth’s music has the potential to redefine the phrase “anything goes” for you forever. In the same vein as the kitchen sink sample mangling practiced by Sam Gas Can, Foodman, or (TMT’s own) Rick Weaver, this is the sound of anything actually going.
“Is this how it ends, mademoiselle?”
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• Brian Blomerth: http://www.brianblomerth.com/