masteller

Germ Class – Dimensions of Value
3.7.18 by Ryan Masteller

I had a Spirograph as a kid. There was something inherently mesmerizing about the repetitive swirling of the cog within the wheel (were they called cogs and wheels?), and I had one of those pens where you could click down a bunch of different colors, so, like, nine-year-old me could easily work himself into a psychedelic spirally heaven. And now I’m holding in my hand “Dimensions of Value” by Germ Class, and each cassette (edition of 50) comes with a unique hand-Spirographed cover by Fernando Brito. I don’t know about you, but the now-none-of-your-business-year-old me has a pretty deep itch, a hankering, an overwhelming twinge of muscle memory to meet up with that nine-year-old kid I used to be and Spirograph the hell out of my mom’s notebook paper.

Fifty unique covers! This is OTA, aka Ostres Amigos, after all, a lovely tape label out of Portugal imprinting their releases with a totally singular aesthetic, a great idea to separate themselves in the tape game. I’ve got a few of their cassettes, and each one is a work of art. Germ Class is no different, and “Dimensions of Value” is the perfect sonic accompaniment to the artwork. A German Army offshoot featuring Peter Kris, Germ Class also features Stephanie Chan of Dunes on vocals and “NH” on “Programming” – look man, I could wander the internet all day, but it just says “NH_Programming,” and I already did the other two. Like Dirty Beaches with a drum machine and a Cocteau Twins fetish, Germ Class pops dark, slinky noir tunes in the microwave with some electro beats and hits the 30 second button. Sparks flash, imprinting themselves on your corneas, and the resulting visual disturbance looks not unlike Spirograph shapes flashing across your field of vision. Hope the damage isn’t permanent.

So I have some bad news – although “Dimensions of Value” came out in November, it’s already gone from the label. But! There’s one available from this guy on Discogs, just don’t fight too hard over it. Or you could always download the record and tape it, then make your own cover. That might be fun to do, actually, on a rainy afternoon.

Passive Status – Papier
3.6.18 by Ryan Masteller

This is what I get: halfway into Passive Status’s “Papier” I’m hallucinating the alien vessel from “Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home,” the one trying to communicate with humpback whales. The Polish dark ambient artist has strung me along to this point, dragging me through various tactile environments by my ears until I’m suggestible enough for him to implant visions in my listening experience. Seeing weird crap through sound. Violent bouts of synesthesia.

So it’s an adventure, then. I can handle adventure. Even if it’s not going to lead me to faraway space stations or back in time to save the human race. Hey, I’m still along for Passive Status’s wild ride. That’s just how I like it these days. …And previous days, too, actually. I admit, I was always a thrill seeker.

The nine tracks on “Papier” establish miniature worlds within themselves, each one a specific oddity to which you must reorient before immersion. They don’t last too long, none much over five minutes, so you’re constantly shifting your balance, needing to ground yourself before you get too lost in the mix. But that’s the fun part isn’t it? Go on, then – get yourself lost! Don’t worry about preparing for what’s around the next dark corner, what’s hiding in the next dark shadow. Be surprised, and, sure, a little freaked out maybe. Weird stuff’s happening – OK – but it’s the ride that’s important! Don’t waste time worrying about things you have no control over, like Klingons or Ferengi.

I’m still hallucinating, aren’t I…

Edition of 50 on the Plaża Zachodnia label, ships straight outta Kolobrzeg.

Tatras – Yerevan
3.2.18 by Ryan Masteller

“Ararat” begins “Yerevan” by Tatras with fifteen minutes of creaking timbers, like those of a large wooden vessel on an endless empty sea. Not unlike those, in fact, of the ark, the ship God directed Noah to build to weather the totally real and not fake at all biblical flood. In the ark’s hold dwelt two of every animal, male and female, so that Noah and his menagerie could populate the earth again after the floodwaters receded. I bet those animals were getting totally freaky cooped up in there. Aww, yeah.

Ararat is the mountain in present-day Turkey where the ark supposedly and finally ran aground, thus tying my narrative nicely together. For years scholars have speculated on the whereabouts of the ark, even going so far as to provide photographic evidence, like this, or this, or this surprising and astonishing and absolutely true image. In this one you can actually see Noah’s head after he and God decided to move the ark elsewhere for safe keeping.

Tatras is a little more serious than I am, imagining that ancient sea, the tension of one superstitious man not knowing whether he’ll survive the ordeal. “Ararat” is gripping in its stasis, its gently rocking ambience a reminder of upheaval and destruction.

And there are other tracks too, mountain-y ones even: “Vardenis” is named after a town near the Vardenis mountain range, located close to the Armenian capital of Yerevan, which … hey, that’s the name of the album! “Gndasar” is also named after an Armenian mountain, Gndasar Lerrnagagat’, and Tatras, the very name of this project, was itself inspired by the range separating Slovakia from Poland.

“Chatin” is, what, Chatin Sarachi I guess? He was an Albanian painter.

So there you have it – some history, some geography, some intense cassette-based sound art. You never know what you’re in for at the old Tabs Out Podcast website.

Tatras crafts compositions like cloud formations among all these Eastern European and North Asian mountains, mysterious to us awestruck and faraway westerners. Listening to “Yerevan” is like traveling to the far reaches of the world in your mind. The tape itself features beautiful artwork and comes with a thick cardstock o-wrap. Edition of 25 from Knoxville’s Park 70, its only release on a sparse Bandcamp page.

Sugar Pills Bone – Slack Babbath Plays Peep Durple
2.28.18 by Ryan Masteller

What the hell is “lurpwave?” An internet search brings up two pages of links containing the sentence “World-renowned purveyors of Lurpwave are back with their debut ‘Slack Babbath Plays Peep Durple.’” But as everyone knows, you can’t define a term with itself, so… what’s next?

How the hell can someone come “back” with their “debut”? You either debut or you come back, you don’t do both. Coming back implies being there once before. Debuting implies being there for the first time. So… what’s next?

What the hell is “Buttersound”? The obvious answer is this, but I don’t think Chip Butters is a member of Sugar Pills Bone. Sleepy Sugar Thompkins and Boney Dog Davis are, though. Not Chip Butters. Chip Butters would NOT know what to do with a warble stick. Or a rocking chair.

It might be this, actually (although come to think of it, that looks more like video evidence of what I imagine happens at Tabs Out HQ on podcast night). It also might be this.

Um… what’s next?

Why the hell isn’t this a Black Sabbath or Deep Purple tape? I want SO BAD for it to be that right now. But the letters are mixed up, so we move on… what’s next?

I guess you’ll just have to take these incoherent and unconnected thoughts and shape your own explanation with them. That’s what Sugar Pills Bone does, did here, but with sound sources, whipping together a backwoods plunderphonic nightmare somewhere in the realm of “Blair Witch” or “Lord of Illusions.” If you like your outsider noise a little on the weird, paranoid tip, look no further than “Slack Babbath Plays Peep Durple” (which I can’t even say properly in my head, it’s such a tongue twister). Edition of 25 on Orb Tapes.

Phexioenesystems – Magenta Hyperhue
2.27.18 by Ryan Masteller

No I did NOT mean “phone systems,” thank you very much Google search engine. What, do you think you’re smarter than me just because you’ve retrieved 1,040 results in a fraction of a second? Well, guess what, Google search engine, I read too, and I don’t just skim over what I’m reading, I fully immerse myself in it, and I LEARN. Think you can outlearn me? Go ahead and try it. We humans are the bosses around here.

For now, anyway. Phexioenesystems, otherwise known as Dominic Thurgood on his bank statements (don’t ask me how I got fifty of his bank statements) might actually be dreaming of encounters with beings or, ahem, artificial intelligences in a post-human future. These dreams are manifest as synthesizer soundwaves that flit through your mind and possibly the visible spectrum, unless you’ve been dosed with some unexpected hallucinogen. [*glances around furtively; checks pulse*] The EQ meter on your soundboard merges with the aurora borealis that’s localized entirely within your kitchen, and then you realize you’ve moved your soundboard from the studio to the kitchen and it’s not even plugged in anymore. The sounds and the visions are coming from inside your own brain! Or the visions are anyway. Dominic Thurgood’s got the sounds covered.

As Phexioenesystems has proven, many times before and again now, is that we humans aren’t up to the task. We’ll be taken over by spider bots or whatever that crawl through cyberspace assimilating all the data they can get their greedy little code on. And now we know what music they like too.

They like Phexioenesystems. I thought that was clear. So before they’re all gone, make like a real person and grab one of 50 hand-numbered copies of “Magenta Hyperhue” from Soundholes. I got number 24! Lucky 24…