Tabs Out

cassette podcast focusing on noise & experimental sounds
Posted on

Tabs Out | Enjoy Our Last Century on Earth – Was Ist Los

Enjoy Our Last Century on Earth – Was Ist Los

12.10.21 by Matty McPherson

Brisbane, Australia based Minimal Impact is not a frequent updater of their blogger outpost, but when they do so, the goods are always going to be chunky, droney, and filled with that sweet blistering noise that gets you shrieking, dancing, or maybe discombobulated. So, I suppose that brings us to today’s quick treat, the upcycled C32 Was Ist Los by the lads in Enjoy Our Last Century on Earth. If you’ve been jonesing for the kind of metallic void screaming and cantankerously clanky industrial, then let this duo be your guide. Was Ist Los collects a small fortune of one-offs and split/collab tracks that don’t hold back any punches. It’s a barbarous kind of tape. Yet one that also is impeccably mixed with the kind of precision that doesn’t seek to wear out the hi-fi. It stays in the green without ever floating into the red, which leads to all sorts of malignant brain-fried deviations rendered with utter clarity.

Side A opener “Acknowledgement (And Yet We Continue) ft. K.P.” functions like a phone call coming from hell, as a voice as gargled and ancient as a martian narrates the state of affairs like an omnibus narrator. All the while, both T.E. and Z.M. make quick work of turning scrap metal into electronics and electronics and synths into scraps; clever how they can pull that off. Although the duo are not just in the mood for crushing, omnibus weight; tracks like “Serene Agitation” give the bass a moment to breathe and open things up, while “Libidinal Terrain of the Nation” and “Where is Snow” function like stately power tool drone waltzes. Both (of course) soon descend into a reign of chaos that cuts out just before the state of affairs can completely collapse. Imagine if this was played during the pipe dream minigames of Bioshock and you’ve got a good grip on just the kind of energy this duo is weaving themselves through,

Edition of 40 available from the Minimal Impact Bandcamp page.

Posted on

Tabs Out | Sun Picture – So Many Little Rooms

Sun Picture – So Many Little Rooms

12.10.21 by Matty McPherson

The Red Hill, CA based Katuktu Collective tape label has been an upstanding “aural refuge” for the past half decade or so. Aaris King has been handling efforts, with an emphasis on charitable partnerships, while networking with underground artists. It makes their releases a unique grab bag experience, with a keen, open ear to global curation of all shapes and sizes. One month you might be finding yourself with Senyawa’s Alkisah; half a year later, you might just be entering a portal into Sun Picture’s So Many Little Rooms.

Carlos Lowenstein’s Chicago-based solo project, Sun Picture, is an aural meditation on personal memories–specifically pertaining to Lowenstein’s early years of life in Venezuela. So Many Little Rooms is not lyrically focused, utilizing titles like “Roosters in Caracas mornings 1992,” “Tension at the park 1990,” or “Sometimes the monkey escaped” to more or less reveal inklings of this past where its synths may not. And yes, across this C34, Lowenstein does ground most of his sound in synths, creating low hums and wistful melodies.  Still, there’s a lot of guitar jamming and motorik impulses imbued in these nine tracks; they carry a detached sense of krautrock aesthetics. Listening to the tape in real time, one might note how the drums (sometimes live, sometimes machine) and guitars slowly terraform, shifting their tunings and patterns, respectively. Memory changes, after all. Although Lowenstein is careful not to turn it into an outright jam, honing in on three to four minute vignettes. These songs could stretch, let’s not get that wrong, but that decision to let them operate in this manner rewards the wide palette Lowenstein brings out.

Naturally, it carries these memories through a vivid sonic timeline, allowing for repeated listens to reward different tracks and different attributes. Right now, I’ve been gripped specifically by Side A closer “We liked the harsh sun” — a kind of spiritual dub that invokes O.Rang. There’s a sense that it might just explode every time Lowenstein clashes at that detuned string instrument. Meanwhile, Side B opener “Saltwater throat feeling” glistens and dashes in four dimensions, recalling all those hours spent reading Forerunner terminals as much as a genuine flavor profile of salt water. There are truly so many little rooms Lowenstein can invoke.

Hand-numbered 4-panel J-card, hand-stamped shells, edition of 50 available from Katuktu Collective and Sun Picture’s own personal Bandcamp.

Related

Episode #120