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Butchy Fuego, "Butchy Fuego"
Pickled Egg
When I try and explain the more noisy selections in my albumcollection, it's at times difficult to explain what makes somethingmusical to you and how it is different from dropping a collection ofpots and pans down a concrete stairwell or jumping up and down on apiano using a hammer to strum a guitar. I'll admit it's often a fineline. The unfortunate result of this conversation is usually a cop outalong the lines of "I know it when I hear it," which, whileunsatisfying, is ultimately true. This is not a line of thought Ibelieved I would have to undertake when I slipped in this Butchy Fuegoalbum for the first time. The opening tracks consist of some gentlymelodic piano and horns that sounds like a good old time on the frontporch where the neighbors have brought their instruments for a hoedown.It's hokey, but mostly fun music and perfectly listenable. Thiscontinues over the course of several songs with titles like "AnotherDay at the Pizzeria" and "Hot Balls," until, for some reason, Mr. Fuegodecides to change things up a bit. Now, until this point, the music hadbeen doing rather well, and "Music For Sarah's Film" blendedinteresting static breaks with carnival style calliope and sounds.After this, forget it. First off, he named the next track "Filler." Howinfuriating is that? And it's true, the tiny track consists of nothingmore than a few random bloops, a short guitar lick, and some mumblemoans into the microphone. It is filler, he obviously knew it wasfiller, and yet it must be released. "Bumbleplight" momentarily rescuesthings with a glitchy IDM style workout, light years from the openingmaterial and strangely out of place, but nonetheless interesting.Following this schizophrenic path, we're then treated to randomsections and snippets of songs contained within one track, ranging fromsynth-pop new wave to squealing, fuzzy bashing on the instruments."Bunny" features some sloppy beatboxing amidst the shards of music thatlie behind it. From the sound of the last several tracks, it soundslike this was an improvisational brainstorm session to come up withsong ideas and that they just got lazy and put this out instead ofdistilling the more interesting and better developed parts (and believeit or not, there are some). Halfway through "Bunny," a good song popsout of nowhere, much to the listener's surprise. There's undevelopedpotential in the slop of this bipolar, incomprehensible tangle, whichonly makes it more infuriating that those ideas are lost underneathjerky goofball stupidity. Even with those flashes of possibility, thefinal piece almost ensures a spin in the microwave for Butchy Fuego.The album closes with "Outro," a track that after five minutes ofsilence concludes with an all onomatopoeia rendering of what I believeis the consumption and digestion of food, eventually leading toexcretion and the sound of rushing water that I take to be flushingfollowed by a door closing. Now, this scenario is not entirely clearfrom the track, merely my impression of what is going on. Mostlybecause the album itself seems perfectly evocative of somethinggenerally pleasing and unassuming disintegrating into self indulgenceand crap.
When I try and explain the more noisy selections in my albumcollection, it's at times difficult to explain what makes somethingmusical to you and how it is different from dropping a collection ofpots and pans down a concrete stairwell or jumping up and down on apiano using a hammer to strum a guitar. I'll admit it's often a fineline. The unfortunate result of this conversation is usually a cop outalong the lines of "I know it when I hear it," which, whileunsatisfying, is ultimately true. This is not a line of thought Ibelieved I would have to undertake when I slipped in this Butchy Fuegoalbum for the first time. The opening tracks consist of some gentlymelodic piano and horns that sounds like a good old time on the frontporch where the neighbors have brought their instruments for a hoedown.It's hokey, but mostly fun music and perfectly listenable. Thiscontinues over the course of several songs with titles like "AnotherDay at the Pizzeria" and "Hot Balls," until, for some reason, Mr. Fuegodecides to change things up a bit. Now, until this point, the music hadbeen doing rather well, and "Music For Sarah's Film" blendedinteresting static breaks with carnival style calliope and sounds.After this, forget it. First off, he named the next track "Filler." Howinfuriating is that? And it's true, the tiny track consists of nothingmore than a few random bloops, a short guitar lick, and some mumblemoans into the microphone. It is filler, he obviously knew it wasfiller, and yet it must be released. "Bumbleplight" momentarily rescuesthings with a glitchy IDM style workout, light years from the openingmaterial and strangely out of place, but nonetheless interesting.Following this schizophrenic path, we're then treated to randomsections and snippets of songs contained within one track, ranging fromsynth-pop new wave to squealing, fuzzy bashing on the instruments."Bunny" features some sloppy beatboxing amidst the shards of music thatlie behind it. From the sound of the last several tracks, it soundslike this was an improvisational brainstorm session to come up withsong ideas and that they just got lazy and put this out instead ofdistilling the more interesting and better developed parts (and believeit or not, there are some). Halfway through "Bunny," a good song popsout of nowhere, much to the listener's surprise. There's undevelopedpotential in the slop of this bipolar, incomprehensible tangle, whichonly makes it more infuriating that those ideas are lost underneathjerky goofball stupidity. Even with those flashes of possibility, thefinal piece almost ensures a spin in the microwave for Butchy Fuego.The album closes with "Outro," a track that after five minutes ofsilence concludes with an all onomatopoeia rendering of what I believeis the consumption and digestion of food, eventually leading toexcretion and the sound of rushing water that I take to be flushingfollowed by a door closing. Now, this scenario is not entirely clearfrom the track, merely my impression of what is going on. Mostlybecause the album itself seems perfectly evocative of somethinggenerally pleasing and unassuming disintegrating into self indulgenceand crap.
