| SPOTLIGHT 
                      ON SPITE by 
                      Chris Sienko
  What’s 
                      wrong with my head? Why on earth would I commit to writing 
                      TWENTY THREE reviews in one month, for one label?!?! Why 
                      now, of all times, when I’m up to my elbows in packing boxes 
                      and hidden U-Haul fees (windshield insurance, gotta have 
                      it, what if…), would I do such a thing? Well, for one thing, we’re 
                      talking about a label that’s been around for a bit over 
                      a half a decade (I remember seeing posts about Spite on 
                      alt.noise around 1996 or so…maybe earlier, maybe later), 
                      and yet most people are only vaguely aware of it. Joel St. 
                      Germain has put out somewhere around 75 releases in this 
                      span of time, many of them among the best work available 
                      by the artists represented. Why on earth isn’t this guy 
                      at the top of the noise food chain?
 Maybe the limited availability 
                      thing counts as an excuse. Most tapes are in an edition 
                      of 50. Many even less. But I don’t know, when you think 
                      about it, do you even know 50 noise fans personally? 50 
                      copies don’t sell nearly as fast as you’d think in this 
                      game.
 Perhaps people used 
                      to the high gloss, elaborate design and packaging fandangos 
                      of companies like Alien8 are put out by the xeroxed paper 
                      covers and hand-dubbed cassettes with minimal info. I guess, 
                      but isn’t the idea of noise (as with music) the SOUNDS themselves?
 Regardless, most people 
                      stumble onto Spite by accident, while they’re compulsively 
                      filling holes in their Sukora or MSBR collections, and don’t 
                      come back to visit afterwards. Personally, I think you’re 
                      missing out. The tapes are cheap, Joel’s easy to transact 
                      with, and doesn’t suffer from the "I’ll send those 
                      out next week" chromosome deficiency that plagues some 
                      tape only labels, and of course, many of the sounds are 
                      superb. Joel makes friends easily, and friends are more 
                      likely to give you the cream of their crop than collaborators 
                      or business partners.
 Despite the limited 
                      numbers of each item, many releases spanning far back in 
                      the early catalog are still available. I’ll start with 15 
                      releases from the back catalog, and then talk some more 
                      about the recent onslaught of ten new releases that have 
                      come about in the last two months. I’m going to focus on 
                      releases by artists you may not be familiar with, rather 
                      than hit on the big names. I’m sure you can decide for yourself 
                      whether you need another K2 or Government Alpha or Reynols.
 The 
                      still available older releases (all on cassette unless otherwise 
                      noted): 
 Dead Body Love: "Volcano God."
 I have to admit it, I come to a Dead Body Love cassette 
                      with very high expectations. After hearing his "Maximum 
                      Dose" CD for PURE, and his 7" record for Self 
                      Abuse, I’m totally in awe of Gabriele Giuliani. He’s got 
                      a dense, snarling loop-based low end that doesn’t compare 
                      to much on either noise or power electronic turf. The chromium 
                      hide glistening on the best DBL releases has a similar wild-hell 
                      aggressiveness as a No U Turn or Chrome label assassin. 
                      Without beats, of course.
 I guess that’s why 
                      this tape doesn’t floor me like it would if it were by anybody 
                      else (also known as the "Post-1987 Pere Ubu output 
                      phenomenon"). When he’s on, he’s SO on, and if he’d 
                      mixed this a little different (there’s so little low end 
                      on this!), it might have really strolled through the pantheon 
                      with a blackjack and a bottle in one hand. But as it stands, 
                      it’s not in the top 50 percent of the Dead Body Love bell 
                      curve. Sorry Charlie.
 Grunt: 
                      "Europe After Storm." 
  Grunt 
                      is a passionate noise unit created by a very committed fellow 
                      named Mikko Aspa in Finland. If you’ve read either Freak 
                      Animal magazine (also the name of his label) or any of his 
                      liner notes, you know he’s committed to both the noise scene 
                      and politics, and in the case of this release, to the atrocities 
                      being committed in Kosovo. Along with the sound, which resembles 
                      very structured (almost "musically" composed, 
                      with a cinematic feel…there’s even a stuttering sound that 
                      resembles the whir of a documentary film camera) Power Electronics, 
                      Mikko shrieks his earnest lungs out about…something. Probably 
                      something really bad. The problem with this is the same 
                      problem I have with Rage Against the Machine. Perhaps it 
                      truly is recorded with a sense of urgency and a desire to 
                      change the status quo, to make people think more about the 
                      world around them. The trouble is, just like with Rage, 
                      I listen to this, and it doesn’t really make me want to 
                      do anything. When drunken frat-boys and apathetic slacker 
                      slugs shout "Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me" 
                      along with Rage Against the Machine, we have to ask, has 
                      the social order changed even one micron? Yeah, if anything, 
                      it’s moved us further away from true action. The average 
                      revolutionary teen or pre-teen may have a lot of desire 
                      to change the world, but if you don’t provide them a solid 
                      game plan or course of action, the desire and energy just 
                      gets dissipated before one petition can go around the cafeteria. It’s the same 
                      mentality that allows people to think that if they forward 
                      an email petition along, they’re actually saving public 
                      television, making their outrage known about the oppressed 
                      women in Tibet, or saving rare species of animals that would 
                      otherwise disappear forever. The internet may not have destroyed 
                      social protest, but it sure took the vast majority of interested 
                      parties out of the picture, even while pretending to include 
                      them.
 Humectant 
                      Interruption: "Live At RRR." 
  This 
                      is a 30 minute performance from the weekly "2:00 matinee" 
                      show that took place every Saturday at Lowell, Massachusetts’ 
                      RRRecords store. Many of these performances were excerpted 
                      on an RRR CD titled "2:00 Matinee," but Humectant 
                      Interruption (the band guise of Joel St. Germain)’s performance 
                      happened after the CD came out. And besides, nobody got 
                      a 30 minute track on the CD, and it would have been a shame 
                      to have to excerpt this. Playing for an audience of 
                      none (guess it was an especially slow day in Lowell), Joel 
                      performs on "springs, toys, table, tapes," while 
                      RRRon watches (and later joins in by dropping coins on the 
                      amplified table… "that was so much fun!" he exclaims 
                      at the end of the show), and Joel’s mom reminds him that 
                      they can’t stay all day, since there are still errands to 
                      be run ("My mom used to say that to me all the time," 
                      quips Ron). It’s a very austere recording, lots of scuffing 
                      and rumbling, coins spinning until they lay flat on the 
                      table, unidentifiable noises, the addicting (for that blessed 
                      few) sounds of junk. Throughout, there’s a whiff of Prick 
                      Decay in the air (the band, not the medical condition). 
                      As with all non-music recordings that us maladjusted few 
                      like to occupy our times with, the varied textures are pleasing 
                      to the ears in ways that music isn’t. It would be kind of 
                      like stuffing velvet, sandpaper, rocks, springs, toys, tapes 
                      and a table into your mouth and calling it surrealist lunch. 
                      The package also comes with the list of rules for the RRR 
                      Saturday shows, which is probably the funniest piece of 
                      writing to infiltrate the noise scene since the liner notes 
                      to the first Cock E.S.P. single.
 Rheum: 
                      "Solo Joint." 
  In 
                      Blastitude #5, I mentioned Rheum and the "Lavatory 
                      Improv" sound. This is lavatory improv of a distinctly 
                      darker stripe. Very abstract, and for the most part, I’m 
                      hard pressed to deduce what is making most of these sounds, 
                      due to both the non-pedal, non-metal nature of the sound 
                      devices, and due the fidelity of recording. This sounds 
                      like very very early Crawl Unit, dubbed onto cassette (59 
                      cent variety), then converted to a RealAudio 1.0 file and 
                      played through 10 year old computer speakers, before being 
                      recorded to mini-cassette. In other words, even better than 
                      vintage Crawl Unit.  
                      MO*TE: "Taste Die Mad." 
  The 
                      first track has some taped voices stitched into the background 
                      fabric, making it sound like someone trying to communicate 
                      with a broken CB radio by sitting on it. The rest roars 
                      through your head pleasingly but not in any real engaging 
                      way, more metallic and less billowy than Incapacitants, 
                      not as multi-dimensional as Merzbow or his kin. I’ve heard 
                      other MO*TE releases that I liked better (such as his now-gone 
                      tape for Labyrinth).   Smack 
                      Music 7: "Exchange In An Earthworm." 
  Tape 
                      from Karen Lollipop, the woman in Decaer Pinga that isn’t 
                      Lisa (I’m so behind on all this stuff, I don’t know who’s 
                      in the group anymore, apart from Dylan). Side one (and the 
                      start of side two) has superb use of tape loops (something 
                      you’ll almost NEVER hear me say!). There’s something about 
                      the repeated female voices, dis-TINCT-ly speaking certain 
                      phrases over and over, that leads me to believe these are 
                      probably from "learn to speak another language" 
                      records, but what it mostly reminds me of is Jean-Luc Godard. 
                      It sounds to me like a collage of voices you’d hear in the 
                      various rooms of the computer center in "Alphaville," 
                      even though it’s all in English. Side two is live, and accomplishes 
                      a similar feel through spoken word bits and spooky keyboard 
                      atmospheres. It’s only a 20 minute tape, a tactic I’m coming 
                      to respect more and more in noise albums. The 
                      DL Savings TX: "Full Time Marina (1932)." 
                      
  John 
                      Olson’s solo project, before it was titled Spykes (see issue 
                      #5). It rushes out of the starting gate sounding very tac-like, 
                      with the vocalizing in the background giving this a precisely 
                      thought-out, agenda-less, and more abstract Power Electronics 
                      feel. The layers (and there are quite a few) shift tectonically, 
                      almost imperceptibly, but with each layer filling in a specific 
                      frequency range (high whine, earthy rumble, tv static). 
                      Side two comes on like a lackadaisical Vibracathedral Orchestra 
                      (though this tape predates that group), done while watching 
                      a documentary on UK Power Electronics. It’s in a big oversized 
                      paper sleeve with thick twine lacing up the sides. My fave 
                      DL Savings is still his track for the American Tapes 2cs 
                      "paint can" set, but this is better in the now 
                      because this is still available. To 
                      Live and Shave In L.A., "Vixens of the Mortal Ring." 
                      
  Live 
                      recordings aren’t exactly Tom Smith’s strongest suit. Many 
                      of To Live and Shave’s amazing studio albums, such as "30 
                      Minuten Mannercreme," "An Interview With The Mitchell 
                      Brothers" and the dub editing terror of "Where 
                      A Horse Has Been Standing And Where You Belong" are 
                      so detailed they resemble microscopic computer chips. But 
                      most of the live recordings seem to have been recorded on 
                      a hand-held recorder, generally in the middle of an unenthusiastic 
                      audience, the microphone possibly hidden in the pocket of 
                      an overcoat for maximum Rerun-bootlegs-the-Doobie-Brothers 
                      sound quality. And of course, without a visual point of 
                      reference (TLASILA are actually pretty commanding as a live 
                      entity), things just sound even more homogenous. While I understand 
                      Tom’s disdain of being called a "noise musician" 
                      in reference to his studio albums, I can’t help but listen 
                      to "Vixens of the Mortal Ring" and think "live 
                      Whitehouse" (a group Tom has described as "a good 
                      heavy metal band"), as all the keyboard freakouts, 
                      oscillator whinnies and bass seizures boil down to an inseparable 
                      blare on this low-fidelity tape, overlaid with a lot of 
                      yelling. Tom is also uncharacteristically low-key on a lot 
                      of tracks, kind of laying back and moaning his lyrics rather 
                      than glam-tastically crooning and swaggering them through 
                      four sets of vocal chords. There are some great moments, 
                      but at 90 minutes, this is a really long bastard to sit 
                      through in one sitting. The liners are quite detailed, though, 
                      so you know where everything is coming from, and the enclosed 
                      declaration of anti-noise band purpose is funny: "I’m 
                      Tom Smith, and I am the better man," is at least as 
                      good as "My week beats your year" for sheer rock 
                      n’ roll braggadocio. There are also some funny moments on 
                      the tape, such as one recording where the audience sounds 
                      especially unenthused. ("Do you want us to do another 
                      one? Don’t lie," quips Tom.) The tape recorder is left 
                      on, so we get to hear the next act warm up while the band 
                      sits around the bar and bitches about what a lame group 
                      of people assembled that evening. Most Shave fanatics know 
                      the live tapes are for Shave fanatics only, and that’s why 
                      they buy them. Everybody else should hunt around used CD 
                      stores for the band’s CD back-catalog, especially "Where 
                      A Horse Has Been Standing…"
 Expose 
                      Your Eyes: "Oh Dear, What Can The Matter Be?" 
                      
  You’re 
                      really not going to be prepared for this one. It’s a techno 
                      album. Not noise techno, not freaked out electronics like 
                      Jean Street or Wolf Eyes or Lode Runner. Techno techno. 
                      Four on the floor, almost gabber speed on side one, poom 
                      poom poom poom. Of course, because it’s done by a noise 
                      musician, the melodies are more like squiggles, the rhythms 
                      of the keyboards don’t really match up to the beats, and 
                      there’s some mad left/right panning tricks. Very much like 
                      the Basic Channel/Chain Reaction style (mutated 4 on the 
                      floor) if they had NO taste, NO restraint and NO discretion. 
                      No interlocking parts, tab "a" does not fit into 
                      groove "b." Phase patterns do not gently unalign, 
                      they skitter off tracks like a runaway train. Side two grinds 
                      and humps like Techstep (a la Panacea, Ed Rush, Problem 
                      Child) if Techstep only decided to keep it simple AND allow 
                      itself to be out of control. The "not in control of 
                      my own body functions" element to this tape is what 
                      really makes it the most scary. CONTINUED   BLASTITUDE 
                      #7
 
   
 up 
                      next: 
                      Spite. The label. By Chris Sienko. Part two. 
 |