Snake Eggs – Ceremony I, the cowering
7.26.23 by Matty McPherson
Snake Eggs – Ceremony I, the cowering
7.26.23 by Matty McPherson
Scranton, Pennsylvania based Snake Eggs has achieved about a decade’s worth of nebulous bandcamp transmissions. All tied to the long running digital label Stress Carrier. Approaching 100 releases, Stress Carrier’s discogs page is a graveyard, although their varied presence across bandcamp, facebook, and twitter do indicate that this has been a lively era long endeavor of capturing independent and experimental music in Northeastern Pennsylvania happening with great frequency. Many free downloads are abound if that sort of interests you.
With the notion of whether or not the label or Snake Eggs has done physicals before not able to be pinned down in any capacity, we should stick with what we know about their latest, Ceremony I, the cowering. “New mixtape of sorts; reassembles and recontextualizes fragments of sound into a cryptic, haunted narrative.” It’s quite a simple and inviting C34 of two long plays that do end up charting a refined execution of multi-part composition; the kind fit for the cassette format. Ceremony I, the cowering reveals depth in listening, amongst a strong fascination for global genre splicing and movement that the cassette experience does entertain most splendidly.
Phase 1 has a solid flow starting with subterranean backchannel FM and closing with rapture level ritualistic drone. For an 18 minute piece that’s a tricky proposition to set course on, but there’s a real excitement to the opening minutes of strange rhythms and voices moving through static. The sudden pivot into lo-fi indie is washed out, startled to be there itself, a piece of hypnagogia unexpected. And that is before the final eight or so minutes of deep sea ambient exploring and accelerating towards the depths of drone.
Phase 2 ups environmental sounds and effects. There’s helicopters and machine guns, a strange trip to a zone far from the garage right now. Gurgling war machines, and a low hanging spectral synth drone; the kind of a giant red sun. Well, at least that’s the opening 4ish minutes before we turn to an interlude of space machine bleeping and folk that’s artifact’d. All gives way though, to a single guitar chord that reverberates and becomes the drone under bird noises of a non-organic materiality. Again, the band seem to test the elasticity of one chord droning to carry this piece, as it transitions towards a gong’s drone that soon ebbs into a percussive clanking akin to footing and flutes likened to the highlands. It chews the idea for a while, before quickly fading out.
While Phase 2 seems to be a little more stretched on how to edits these ideas together over 15 minutes, it never ceases to be such a beguiling listen. It is as if the possible musics Bardo Todol’s field recordings often suggest are around the corner suddenly did arise. And Snake Eggs in Scranton, PA happens to answer that desire, in stunning lo-fi. With a handful of copies of the tape left, a mighty recommendation goes towards the adventurous zoners.
Edition of 21 Tapes Shipping Now at the Snake Eggs Bandcamp Page!
7.20.23 by Matty McPherson
7.20.23 by Matty McPherson
D.I.H.D. is more a distro/personal imprint than a record label proper. Human Adult Band, a recent Already Dead alum, runs the joint and keeps things focused on a consistent barrage of their own projects (their website was last updated a month ago with new release for both the Finnish html site + email-based HYSTERtapes & mailordrdr + Already Dead). Although the 2 decade long project abides by one particular mission: a yearly “Gunk Music” compilation. ‘Thunk Gunk’ was the 7th year’s edition that arrived on the deck and has recently seen a long awaited panning out. The compilation’s rules are simple: a smattering of the artists Human Adult Band has been in contact with in the last year. It runs about 50% entirely fresh names with barren discogs pages amongst massive catalog and decade spanning noise mavericks n’ sound practitioners. A heady compilation that connects to several other ends outside just the walls of a bandcamp roundup.
Things start with Philadelphia-based Jesse Sinclair Dewlow’s long running lo-fi project, People Skills. A refined rocker for the compilation that reels you in. And by track two, Reynols, the Argentinian experimental band (lone international act) with recordings that date back to 1993, has arrived with a Here, they show up with a feedback bounce house of blasting riffs and vocal mantras. Carbon Records boss + noise maverick, Joe+N shows up with a harmonic mending of guitar orchestral epiphanies and basement fuzz; it’s an absolute treat for fans of the easy magic of a “slowcored n’ post-rock’d” crescendo that shows off the possibility when kept short and sweet.
Yet after these almost household names, Thunk Gunk pivots into the newbie undercard! Half a House, is a free folk artist within the New Jersey area with performances that date back to 2015. The moniker basically untraceable. Rooftop Gardens’ make their debut appearance with a title track comprised of a drum machine droney motorik beat, and guitar that wobbles like a blue warhead in yr mouth. Alice Fawn follows with two dimly lit folk sketches. The second, May it Come True, an especially tender cut based around her dazzling voice that suddenly just ends. Siesta Rates’ Kubrick Stare seems like it was meant it for Julia’s War.
Meanwhile, Human Adult Band’s Th’ Spot (Long Branch 2019) is washed out lazer noise n’ guitar wails. Max Nordle, Paisley Shirt alum, takes to the K records-damaged-cut slot of the tape, pulling beatnik poetry under a rattling noir boondocks the best a one man show can muster. While Joe(amazing) isn’t a household name, his work with the Brown Christmas for their 2016 Orb Tape sure is with Tabs Out audiences! And as the detente, he literally dazzles, seriously his synth line rides with the force of a green laser pen. All is to say…a good Thunk Gunk
Tape available at Carbon Records or https://www.dihd.net/ (If you can get that later link to work!)