1.29.21: self released
Color Television – Kaleidotropia
1.29.21 by Ryan Masteller
Tabs Out | Color Television – Kaleidotropia
Color Television – Kaleidotropia
1.29.21 by Ryan Masteller
I’m not so sure about this one. I mean, here we are, and it’s 2021 already! It’s not even 2020 anymore, yet we’re still open to elevating something as banal as the color television to the level of “conscious interest.” Preceding “television” with “color” isn’t necessary anymore – all televisions are “in color,” and most of them are even on our phones, so “television” itself is sort of an outdated concept. See, I’m a forward-thinking kind of guy, so when I’m confronted by something that forces me to recall, with fondness, I guess, a distant part of my past (and yes, I’m old enough to remember when “color television” meant something) that I no longer have any use for, I get a little agitated about the whole thing. I only have so much time at my disposal, you know.
Color Television immediately jabs a chill pill into my mouth and sends me into a state of near-instant relaxation. Hi. Let me reintroduce myself and my attitude before proceeding. I feel like I’ve been thrust in the middle of an aquarium that surrounds me on all sides, above and below. I am beset by languid beats and melting samples. I am syrup incarnate. Color Television is Hayden Beck, and Color Television the musical artist might have actually hit me with a nostalgia trip pleasant enough to make me consider color television the object important again. How’s that for irony! Through a soupy beat tape chock full of vintage samples, all wriggling together before drifting apart to the seafloor and settling there to gradually disintegrate in the salt, Color Television recalls the outmoded sets adorning Formica counters across America’s kitchens. Coral sold separately.
And then on the television sets, the aquarium that I’m in … that we’re ALL in broadcasts the bubbled transmissions of forgotten studios on repeat, all until, through the magic of evolution, it’s revealed that we’re all just underwater creatures now on this melting planet, and the programming we’re still somehow receiving is the only record of life on the surface. Remember that Kevin Costner movie, “Waterworld”? It’s sort of not like that at all, but they somehow lost the surface of the planet and had to live on floating islands, and I kind of only react to recent things that happen a sentence or two ago, such is my attention span. In MY story we’re underwater fish people now.
“Kaleidotropia” is a 2018 album that FINALLY sees release on the hallowed format of cassette, only on Orb Tapes.
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Tabs Out | Pet Peeves – Mild Fantasy Violence
Pet Peeves – Mild Fantasy Violence
1.27.21 by Matty McPherson
Post-Punk is in crisis!
Instead of improvising to find new exciting terrain, the kids have taken to deriving this sound to its “type beat” status. BLEH! Meanwhile, the seculars and science skeptics continue to cast doubts on the merits of Math Rock! As if this music actually involves calculators and computers and not a big brain! How can we move past these quandaries and do they perhaps involve a little TV-7 FV?! For Pet Peeves (aka Alex Maerbach and Joe Cavaliere), the answer is a resounding YES.
Mild Fantasy Violence shipped in October’s 4 tape bundle on Personal Archives. One foot is steeped in the improvisations Personal Archives is known for; the “songs” are really just a holy trinity of amped up speedy fast guitar, thump-thump-thump drums, and spoken word interludes. It is high octane. Blind listens literally pull a wombo-combo–you’ll find yourself latching onto one of Maerbach’s wry, winding riggs as Cavaliere accelerates the drums to their breakpoints, before suddenly SNAP! “It’s gone”. Yet it always shifts right back into place, never failing to look forward, as you (the listener) stayed locked into its hypnotic pacing.
The tape has a wickedly amped up approach to punk, even as it likes to stretch out into the 7 minute mark. Sometimes, Cavaliere tries to throw in as many drum fills as he can, and the result is like finding the secret zone in a level and blasting all the baddies (“Bonus Area (Unlocked)”). Other times, both Maerbach and Cavaliere put on their best syncopated feet forward and see how long they can hold it together before it all falls to shambles (“Routine”). Whatever the case, there’s no shortage of noise nor excitement at where the tape leads.
The mending of those improv and punk spheres make the tape a rewarding left-field punk excursion if you have been waiting for a danceable punk that is trimmed of all the fat. Especially if you love an excessive amount of killer loops and mathy maneuvers across its 8 tracks.
Pro-dubbed cassette in an edition of 50!
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