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Go download audiomulch from Fuck about with it for half an hour or so and you could almost certainly come up with something more interesting than all but two of the tracks on this mediocre compilation. When Merbox II has taken total noise to the top of the hip hops courtesy of the Gay Area of EMI, then there is only one place to hide for the diminishing returns of the audio sadist. That place is sheer monotony. Mr Bow (don't call him Merz he hasn't the bass to deserve it since he started conveniance laptopping) drizzles guzzly over the eager upturned noise gob of Mr Karkowski until Mr Karkowski walks out with his dustbin lid in eternal boredom at a completely un-shocking display of mouldy old dough. That's nothing compared to the study in repeat loop tedium provided by Francisco Lopez. There is help at hand in the form of Gescom who are out of place by actually seeming to give a fuck. How their fellow mentalist experimenters in noise and repetition must have laughed when they played their electroacoustic homage that actually had some shape and form and did more than merely exist! A whole album of such nice whooshing would be welcome, even if they pale next to the best composers on the Empreintes Digitales label, who I will be writing about very soon. Hecker recorded some austere almost annoying tones in a few seconds, like crap watch alarms, but do you really want to hear them more than once? If so you are probably the kind who'll lap up the boring high pitched drivel of Shirt Trax. Incapacitants hold a routine full on screaming grinding onslaught for tough loving pigs everywhere. This seems to be a compilation of the most throw away tracks almost all of the contributing artists have ever recorded. Originally it was going to be released on mini-disc, presumably because most of the tracks seem like mere building blocks. Farmersmanual pull some context from the mess, on two counts. First their opening track is a minor beauty. Later they play some fairly bland laptop improvisation that I suspect they'd probably like to think is more abstract than it is, whilst some ravers fail to get angry and just request nicely that they drop a bass line so they can dance their tits off. Farmersmanual don't oblige and just keep chunkling in Sheffield. It seems the days when noise could incite riots are gone, or at least lost in the summer lovin' ecstacy of the mundane offcut freakshow that OR, the Damien Hirst of record labels, has compiled here. Even Russell Haswell's mum loves a bit of OR very now and again. "Lovely, lovely dear, sounds just like me fridge!" -- Graeme Rowland


Revision r1.1 - 05 Jul 2005 - 13:17 - TWikiGuest
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