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A real treat for the burgeoning ranks of A Hawk And A Hacksaw fans, this strictly limited EP includes the first fruits of the duo’s blossoming relationship with a group of extraordinarily talented Hungarian folk musicians, who have come together under the name The Hun Hangár Ensemble to tour Europe with AHAAH this summer. Consisting of eight newly recorded and songs, both original and traditional, the EP serves as an introduction for both the listener and the artists themselves as they get to know each other, providing a platform from which music and ideas can evolve.
In addition to the CD, a 20-minute bonus DVD (An Introduction To A Hawk And A Hacksaw) documents the last two years of almost continuous touring by the original duo of Jeremy Barnes and Heather Trost, with behind-the-scenes insight into their travels across Europe, as well as some great live footage captured (by director Dave Herman) in Albuquerque and Santa Fe, New Mexico. Anyone not yet au fait with AHAAH’s blistering but delightfully intimate live performances would do well to sample some of the fun…
Jeremy and Heather’s first ensemble work came in 2006: their acclaimed third album, The Way The Wind Blows, was recorded with the help of celebrated Romanian brass band Fanfare Ciocarlia and fellow Albuquerque resident Zach Condon of Beirut.
Late in 2006 Jeremy and Heather, making an exploratory trip to Hungary, discovered Fonó, a music shop, venue and centre for Hungarian folk music based in the capital Budapest. Here they met musicians fluent not only in traditional Hungarian folk, but also in jazz and minimalism, with a real hunger to make original music using the palette of musical styles that they had acquired, and The Hun Hangár Ensemble was born.
Béla Ágoston, an open minded and highly influential character within the Budapest music scene, brings expertise on many an instrument including Hungarian bagpipes, the clarinet and the alto saxophone. Ferenc Kovács, who has played with Archie Shepp amongst others, was recruited for his outstanding ability on trumpet and violin. Zsolt Kürtösi’s talents lay with the upright bass and experience in traditional Hungarian and Transylvanian folk and klezmer, while a young maestro of the cymbalom (a dulcimer-like instrument central to traditional Hungarian music), Balázs Unger, completes the group. [For the European tour, the group will be augmented by British percussionist Alex Nielson]
Jeremy already had in mind the songs he wanted to record – a mixture of traditional Hungarian, Serbian, Romanian and klezmer melodies, as well as new compositions by himself and Heather - and brought rough drafts when he joined the ensemble to record in Budapest in December 2006. The Ensemble had just a week to lay down their parts before the tracks were brought back to AHAAH’s Albuquerque base for Jeremy and Heather to add their sections, once again supplemented by members of Beirut.
The songs were carefully chosen to showcase the individual prowess of each of the six musicians, in ensemble pieces (such as ‘Ihabibi’), duos (‘Kiraly Siritas’, featuring violin and cymbalom) and solo pieces (the virtuoso cymbalom of ‘Vajdaszentivány’). Perhaps most impressive of all is ‘Zozobra’, which features only Balázs (cymbalom) and Jeremy (everything else), and sounds like it ought to be soundtracking Buster Keaton…
There will be just 4,000 individually numbered copies of this release made available worldwide, in special gatefold card packaging, though it will also be available as a digital download worldwide from April 30.
The UK tour starts on May 5 in Oxford, and the ensemble will be playing around Europe throughout the summer. You can find an e-flyer for the UK tour here: http://www.theleaflabel.com/ahaah/flyer.html and a full list of tour dates on the Leaf website.
STOP PRESS: UK show with Fanfare Ciocarlia at the Barbican in London (May 30) just confirmed!
1. Kiraly Siratás (Trost)
2. Zozobra (Barnes)
3. Serbian Cocek (traditional, with additional melodies by Barnes/Trost)
4. Romanian Hora and Bulgar (traditional) live, somewhere in Europe, 2006
5. Ihabibi (traditional, with additional melodies by Barnes/Trost)
6. Vajdaszentivány (traditional Hungarian melodies)
7. Oriental Hora (traditional)
8. Dudanotak (traditional Hungarian bagpipe melodies)
A Hawk And A Hacksaw:
Jeremy Barnes (accordion, drums, glockenspiel)
Heather Trost (violin, viola, cello)
The Hun Hangár Ensemble:
Béla Ágoston (Hungarian bagpipes, clarinet, alto saxophone)
Zsolt Kürtösi (upright bass)
Ferenc Kovács (trumpet, violin)
Balázs Unger (cymbalom)
with special guests:
Mark Weaver (tuba)
Zach Condon (trumpet on 'Oriental Hora', ukelele, mandolin)
Paul Collins (bouzouki)
A Hawk And A Hacksaw – The Way The Wind Blows press:
“first-class folk” The Guardian
“ambitious, ethnically rich… suffused with Eastern flavours, his
kaleidoscopic approach – from mariachi brass to klezmer to European
traditionals – is vivid and startlingly diverse. There’s something
experimental and faintly trippy too. ‘God Bless The Ottoman Empire’ could be
George Harrison’s ‘Within You Without You’ snaking through an ancient
Turkish bazaar” 4/5 Uncut
“a glimpse of a different kind of music, one that’s both unexpected and
unfamiliar, and yet richly rewarding. Magnificent” Dotmusic
“music that starts in Eastern Europe, then stomps through every tradition
nearby… a passionate affair” Stool Pigeon
“a captivating ragbag mixture of styles that blends Barnes’s meandering,
vaudevillian songlines with plangent melodies of violinist Heather Trost”
The Daily Telegraph
“a fascinating experiment that leaves you wishing more rock bands would show such adventure” The Times
“Barnes and Trost obviously have a real feeling for the music and an
instinctive way of shaping it, building something quiet and unique… should
become required listening for attempting all such fusions” fROOTS
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The 21st century has been quite good to the dark prince of reggae, with labels such Basic Replay, Blood And Fire, Pressure Sounds, and Trojan all jostling with one another to bring his visionary work back into print. Based on the vital Rasta Communication album, this reissued dub set shows precisely why the late artist's catalog undeniably warrants such attention.
In the arts, dying before one's time commonly inflates his or her legacy disproportionate to actual contribution. In the case of reggae producer and vocalist Keith Hudson, who by 1984 (only in his late 30s) succumbed to cancer, nothing could be further from the truth. While he enjoyed Jamaican chart success early in his career for Big Youth and Ken Boothe, to name just a few, the music scene there never fully embraced his uniquely deep and gothic sound. Nonetheless, Hudson persevered with so many potent cuts for a number of his own imprints, the 7" singles from which continue to be highly desirable to collectors today. Virgin, which signed Hudson to a multi-album deal in the 70s, wanted to turn him into the next Bob Marley, though his work mined far murkier depths in significant contrast to that legendary singer’s sunnier style. While the thematically constructed Pick A Dub ranks as the pinnacle of his dub releases, Brand is possibly the most worthy contender for that title. Also known as The Joint, this album was peculiarly released in advance of its corresponding vocal set, the aforementioned Rasta Communication, still available from its original label Greensleeves. Therefore, Brand could alternatively be treated as a standalone album of subspace bass and subterranean echo, flecked with delectable bits of Hudson's arresting vocal.
The album kicks off with Hudson mournfully crooning about absent parentage on "Image Dub," whose walking bassline, restrained percussion, and wizened guitar and piano embellishments hold together the strained, weighty atmosphere spiraling above. "National Item" and "National Anthem," both dubs of "Rasta Country," present parallel options for the choosy selector, the latter of these more emaciated than actually versioned. The highlight of an already formidable album, "Felt The Strain Dub" takes an anthemic snippet of vocal and layers it over dripping melodic keys and a few perfectly timed snare hits. Compared to the rest of this set, "Musicology Dub" appears deceptively bright, as does "Highter Hights" which features a killer melodica melody and the welcome toasts of deejay President Shorty.
The decent booklet that accompanies this release offers a neat history lesson as well as quick guide for those familiar with Rasta Communication, indicating which versions come from tracks off that release. In addition, two heretofore unreleased vocal tracks separate this version from Pressure Sounds' previous reissue. Regrettably, several of Hudson's full lengths remain unavailable, including Torch Of Freedom (the hardest of hardcore New Order fans will know "Turn the Heater On") and later albums like Steaming Jungle. Continued healthy competition from reggae reissue labels will hopefully fill in these noticeable gaps. In the meantime, Brand should tide over devotees as well as introduce curious newcomers to the heavy overcast sounds of this dub dissident.
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The result of a collaboration between two of the UK's finest collage composers is at turns kitschy and whimsical, disorienting and satirical: a suite of kitchen-sink plunderphonic pop tunes that recall the best moments of classic collagists such as Orchid Spangiafora, John Oswald and Die Trip Computer Die.
Vickie Bennett's People Like Us has always tended towards camp: cut-ups of cartoon noises, educational records from the 1950s, advertisements for Lycra Spandex, corny library music and generic soundtrack pieces ironically recalling a bygone era. So far, Ergo Phizmiz's strategy has been much the same, although his soundworld often takes in organic forms and original instrumentation, such as the brass band that enlivens many of his recent performances. Together, Bennett and Phizmiz create a Frankensteinian assemblage of strange cultural and temporal hybrids: mutilated oom-pah, demented intonarumori, Dixieland jazz blurts and slapstick noises. This much would have been expected, but what wasn't expected was that each of these loony patchworks would be massaged into fully-fledged, structured pop songs, complete with vocals by Bennett and Phizmiz.
Vocal plunderphonic pop does have precedents, but PLU and Ergo Phizmiz create something altogether unique on Perpetuum Mobile, occupying a stubborn middle place between avant-garde sound sculpture and populist pastiche. The opener "Ghosts Before Breakfast" is a case in point, a jaunty sing-along combining flatulent horns with Harry Partch-esque junk percussion, cuckoo clocks and digital fuckery. Over this joyous mess, helium-voiced falsettos sing: "I'd like some dinner, cause I missed my breakfast/I'm ever so hungry, and it's such a sunny day." It doesn't make much sense, but it's undeniably infectious, the layers of loops and samples creating a shambolic din that nonetheless coalesces into timeless pop songcraft. "Social Dancing" samples what sounds like recordings of indigenous children singing, matching the vocals up with Loony Tunes fanfares and retro Hawaiian jazz probably recorded for a 1950s tourist LP. The result is hilarious, but also fascinating: far more than the sum of its parts. It begs to be deconstructed and analyzed, even as it becomes clear that this analysis would reveal no logic behind its construction, beyond a painterly sense of composition.
Although PLU have been at this for years, the techniques of plunderphonia have, in recent years, become quite ubiquitous, especially in the world of HipHop and dance music. There are many recent plunderphonic acts operating under the guise of the mashup DJ or turntablist, using recycled loops from pop music and vintage LPs to produce collages that juxtapose the familiar with the surprising. The difference between these newer acts and Perpetuum Mobile, however, is that Bennett and Phizmiz seem genuinely uninterested in reproducing familiar pop cultural tropes, and instead seek to find ways to approach familiar sounds and musical modes laterally, highlighting not just their absurdity, but often their hidden political dimensions as well. "Air Hostess" repurposes goofy lounge music, splicing in Nelson Riddle's theme to Lolita, gradually ratcheting up the frenetic pace of the track with samples of bachelor pad mambo and 1950s MOR string records. The result is the kind of kitschy patchwork one might expect, but with an added undercurrent of dread, an atmosphere that emerges from the outmoded status of useless and vapid pop culture signifiers that have lost all meaning, if indeed they had any to begin with.
There is so much going on across the 18 tracks making up Perpetuum Mobile that it would be impossible to touch on everything, but suffice to say that this collaborative album is one of the best of its breed: full of audacious, kaleidescopic pop assemblages that slyly comment on the ephemeral nature of music as commodity.
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"Krautrock" would be the most appropriate description for the sound TWoHD make, though their Germanic descent is unlikely, and Wisconsin is pretty far from Europe. But they do take the approach that Can did with regards to recording to the next logical step. Instead of just taking sessions of improvisation and melding them into "tracks," they composed the album in different locations, and then pieced it together into coherent works. The result is very different experience than these ears are used to
The entire disc is covered in a haze of reverb that gives the vibe of '90s shoegaze bands, but maybe not so much in content as atmosphere. The four members of TWoHD play a variety of instruments throughout, creating tracks that differ greatly from one another, but with a similar feel throughout. Strings and lush synths are prominent on songs like "Ascension And" and "A Muted Street Song," but the latter is augmented with live drums and heavily processed percussion as well. Even with the vast instrumentation, a song like "Waterpath St." drifts in an ambient space of bass drone with metallic scrapes.
Unconventional instrumentation plays a role throughout as well, such as the human snapping/slapping percussion in "Two Aged Windows," and the molten cassette tape hiss of "Her Static Will." The album ends on an odd note with the slow, simplistic percussion of "Sun Court" mixed with orchestra hits and crashes, not unlike a lo-fi symphony. There is a very calm, relaxed feeling throughout the entire album, though some elements of darkness creep in, like the subtle synth dread in "Her Static Will" and the bleakness of "Waterpath St."
The most difficult aspect of this album is just how dense it is. The massive amounts of multitracking and instrumentation make it difficult to discern exactly what is going on at times. It is never overly muddled or muddy, but my tastes are for more sparseness. The density does, however, contribute to a very prominent atmosphere throughout
Land Patterns is not a work that can be easily described at all using any genre definitions or terms. There are elements of jazz, electronic, alternative rock, and classical here for sure. In that regard, it is not unlike an even more unconventional Fridge with an even greater amount of instrumentation mixed in. As a debut, it is extremely strong and diverse and hopefully marks the beginning of a long career.
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Bearing a sound ideal for the next sentimental Michel Gondry or Zach Braff film, this proficient artist's second album suckles at the fleshy yet noticeably sagging teat of '90s shoegaze while concurrently seeking a way out of the trappings of that tempting template.
My first experiences with this curious little subgenre came during my teens when the disaffected young ladies I surrounded myself with turned me on to groups like Mazzy Star and Cranes. Axiomatically different from the grunge and metal I was then deeply infatuated with, these and other like-minded artists occasionally found their way into my listening, particularly during those depressive late-night hours of adolescent confusion. My appreciation for this music grew deeper when later, while still blissfully underage, I began to frequent certain New York City goth clubs, where I both heard and saw live performances from many acts in the Projekt stable. While those days are long gone, I still find time every now and again to enjoy a few of these sonic thrills and chills from my own restlessly pensive youth. Violet, Alexander Chen's new album as Boy In Static, recalls for me this strange time with an authenticity that gives me pause.
Opener "First Love" emerges like a sunrise slowly revealed in those hazy meaningful early morning minutes that most people hardly ever find cause to witness. This style sets a precarious tone for these ten tracks, as if the feelings evoked at that time have somehow been frozen or considerably slowed into a bleary-eyed fugue. "Where It Ends," the designated single, falls comfortably in line not with some of the most recognizable tunes in the subgenre, but also with the electronically derived highlights of acts like The Postal Service. Here, contemplating either the dusk of day or of man, Chen sings of a past love that he longs to reclaim over a tenebrous post-punk bassline and desperately muted programmed percussion. His delicately poetic and sometimes cryptic lyrics, while not very clear in delivery, suit not just the far out music, but also his light, effeminate voice. It is reasonable to suspect that the words to sublime tracks like "December" and "Leave You Blind" were scribbled reflectively just as the undaunted dawn began to rise.
Naturally, the main problem that Boy In Static faces is that shoegaze and dream pop have not evolved much over the past decade, resulting in a crop of painfully similar artists eager to absorb their influences while never quite breaking free of them. Although I'm willing to concede that Chen does it better than most, I suspect that he is still looking for a new curve in the road, one less crowded that his current location. Even if he doesn't quite realize that himself, Chen's music subconsciously exudes unrest that will hopefully be resolved in future recordings. Still, those who dig on sensitive, edgy music will find Violet an unobjectionable and welcome, as well as more than a few directionless teenagers.
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This reissue (from 1983) is something of a gem. Virna Lindt's music is a blend of fashion and espionage as perfect as if she were the love-child of Emma Peel from The Avengers and Ilya Kuryakin from The Man From U.N.C.L.E.The illusion that Virna Lindt perpetrates is circular: Swedish translation student pretending to be a jet-set model revealed as a spy masquerading as a singer (and so on). Visually, her fabulous appeal is that of a Gerry & Sylvia Anderson prototype action doll come to life and gone undercover, maybe one of the Angel fighter pilots from the Captain Scarlet series. All that would be mere pap if the music didn't add up to more than an exercise in style. But, after a quarter of a century, the simple integrity of the arrangements and her unruffled vocal style deserve to be brought in from the cold.
Paradoxically, "Attention Stockholm," the story of a secret agent who has disappeared, announced Virna Lindt to the world (she topped the independent charts in the UK); her lovely but distant face adorned the music papers. The track still sounds smart, urgent, and alluring. Puns on the words "cologne" and "scent" are particularly sweet, but a creeping frantic edge keeps a great single in balance. The title track to Shiver proves that few things work as well as a mysterious beauty muttering in a foreign tongue. The track makes great use of an echo halfway between a gunshot and the sound of a glacier cracking.
"Pillow Talk" exudes an aroma which brings to mind the exploits of the John Profumo Affair, when the erotic stink of Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies brought several government ministers to their knees in more ways than one. Lindt proclaims that she doesn't believe in love (or) lies anymore, but anyone hearing her coo "All the president's men won't come between us" is likely to join the line of her admirers no matter what secrets she might extract. The restrained use of a sound that is more whip than handclap adds to the atmosphere. "Swedish Modern" is all reversed tapes and references to the Scandanavian furniture that was popular in the UK when Shiver was first released. "I Beat the System" could be mistaken for the continental piano-playing pen-pal of the Waterboys’ "A Girl Called Johnny", while "The Dossier on Virna Lindt" is a leisurely stroll through deserted streets reading her answers to a teen-magazine questionnaire ( "Leisure activities: Sabotage and sin" ).
The short instrumental "Episode One" begins with frozen synth emerging like a boat from fog until another bubbling layer adds an element of emotion, suggesting arrival or departure. The track was originally the perfect B-side for the "Attention Stockholm" 7" single from 1981. Although I personally find "Underwater Boy" as syrupy as real disco, it predicts the homage that is Air's Moon Safari by a couple of decades. In the bonus section, this CD reissue includes an ever-so-slightly warped cover of "The Windmills of Your Mind" from the soundtrack of The Thomas Crown Affair.
On Shiver, Virna Lindt takes one idea to a perfect conclusion with tremendous grace and a good humor that never goes over-the-top. Co-conspirator Tot Taylor (who just happened to be a record producer) is said to have met her on a train and responded to her desire to make music that was "like Hitchcock with a rock and roll beat"; though presumably, if her desire had been to rob a bank, he would likely have found some guns and a book on safecracking pretty quickly. Taylor and Lindt remixed and repackaged the album in 1997, and it sounds as playfully aloof as ever, Lindt's icy mystique unthawed by time. Shiver harks back to a fun time when tiny labels like The Compact Organisation looked like they could rule the world of pop. If only,...
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This collects for the first time in ten years the band's two EPs: 1995's Fight Songs and 1996's Marshmallows. The results on this record are curious, occasionally interesting, but more often than not frustrating. Brian McMahan's second act following his turn in the massively influential Slint, The For Carnation took that band's adept usage of open space and tension and attempted to apply them to low-key acoustic arrangements.
Unfortunately, it is impossible not to draw comparisons between the two groups. Slint was and remains successful because their studied tension and release applied well to a rock band dynamic. Additionally, McMahan's vocals in that band, half way between a whisper and an off-key holler, were successful because they conveyed all the fear, doubt, and naiveté that was evident in the music. The For Carnation, on the other hand, suffers from the fact that the songs are often half-formed and uninteresting. Music this intimate requires dynamics, and despite appearances from such post-rock luminaries such as David Pajo, Doug McCombs, and John Herndon, the songs fail to go anywhere interesting. This isn’t a total dismissal.
A few bright spots emerge from the repetitive chord sequences and staid drumming. "On the Swing" is a poignant ballad with softly brushed drums and gently plucked guitar that features some of McMahan's best singing. "Salo" is pleasant enough, but at almost seven minutes long tries my patience and ultimately finds me hitting the skip button. Unfortunately, for every time the group seemed to find their footing, they lose with another rote post-rock track like "I Wear the Gold." The wisdom of reissuing records from a band that released roughly an album and a half of, at best, mediocre material is lost on me. I'm left wondering "does every 1990s indie band need a reissue?"
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On this very brief pink/red marbled vinyl 7", the two artists collaborate on a rather subtle work with both sides showing a very distinct character. "Properties" is all stuttering electronics, field recordings, and other near-impossible to place sounds. Squeaks, bangs, and a bit of guitar abuse sound like damaged childhood toys put out to pasture in a suburban parking lot to deliver their dying breaths. The flipside, "Ribbons" is somewhat more conventional, based around guitar textures, electronic tones, and field recordings of birds and insects. It's a bizarre set of recordings, but very compelling in their oddity and definitely worth checking out.
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Just weeks after Psychic TV's dismal new album and mere months since Throbbing Gristle's disobedient reunion record comes the delinquent sophomore full-length from this spoken word project of the ubiquitous frontperson behind all three musical entities, making 2007 one of his/her most prolific periods in many years.
On 1999's Time's Up, Genesis Breyer P-Orridge spun witty metaphysical yarns over ethereally supernatural atmospheres built by the underestimated Bryin Dall. With the 2004 bankruptcy of World Serpent Distribution, it became yet another fine post-TG transmission all-but-forgotten in its sizeable archives, to say nothing of Dall, whose WSD back catalog of Loretta's Doll and Order Of The Suffering Clown affiliated acts remains improperly out-of-print. Yet from there the project took an illogical path, unapologetically slapping Thee Majesty's name over those of reissued Psychic TV and Splinter Test recordings for Voiceprint, a label which has also re-released several of Gen's "disconcerts" on CD. The rationale behind these acts of discographic revisionism is at least partly symbolic, a heartily bellowed fuck-you to Martin Atkins and his Invisible Records, who allegedly has swindled Gen out of royalties owed on a trilogy of double disc Psychic TV acid house period collections. 2005's Mary Never Wanted Jesus, a limited edition "Odds & Sods" compilation of alternate mixes strictly for the devout, was near-impossible to find beyond the mail-order section of Gen's website or on the merchandise table at the occasional Thee Majesty live performance. Now, roughly eight years since the debut, the duo follows up and follows through with this exciting new album for the worthy Blossoming Noise label.
Vitruvian Pan is everything that Hell is Invisible...Heaven is Her/e should have been, a tenacious countercultural document that tests boundaries, questions dogmatic truths, and embraces taboos. Largely spoken and occasionally shouted, the enchanting lyrical monologues and hypnotic tonal qualities of his/her voice hearken back not just to Time's Up, but to other high points in his/her recorded history. Weirdo outsider grooves dominate these recordings, some unsubtly echoing sounds heard in on the streets and nightclubs of New York City, the place where Gen now rests his/her head. "Thee Nature Ov Control" and "Bee My Honey Bee" both grab hold of the boom-bap of hip-hop while mutating and mutilating it for the duo's purposes. The shuffling minimal techno of "Thee Land Ov Do Do" would be almost danceable if not for Gen's intentionally garbled, heavily effected speech. Fortunately the accompanying booklet, part of the attractive and apparently eco-friendly package, features all of the lyrics.
Essentially in exile, Gen-as-expatriate inevitably creeps into the lyrics, most noticeably on "Save Their Souls," with a slyly delivered declaration that he/she bears the distinction of "most evil man in Great Britain". Dall's eclecticism too shines through, from the sparse psychedelic dub of "Hey Baby!" to the dissonant possessed soundscapes of "Feel Strange." While many of my fellow Throbbing Gristle fans might deem this outrageous, I anticipate that I will listen to this album far more than Part Two - The Endless Not in the months and even years to come. Where the latter arouses and provokes, Vitruvian Pan tries another tack by approaching the listener in a far more accessible manner.
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A techno pioneer with countless aliases and highly sought-after releases, Fred Giannelli still apparently holds quite the grudge against former collaborator Genesis Breyer P-Orridge. Instead of bitterly lambasting the transgender icon, this veteran producer displays his biting sense of humor in this electrifying yet cheeky live document.
A case could be made that Giannelli deserves most if not all of the credit for the acid house recordings disseminated by Temple Records and Wax Trax! during the late '80s and early '90s. Undeterred and undoubtedly educated by his tumultuous experiences in Psychic TV, Giannelli went on to make his mark in the thriving '90s global techno scene with slab after slab of dancefloor-ready vinyl for Plus8, Sahko, Superstition, and his own Telepathic imprint, to name a few. The Kooky Scientist, the name that graces much of his output for Richie Hawtin's untouchable techno label, has released very little over the last decade under perhaps his most well known moniker.
Thankfully, the self-released and thus self-financed Kook Kontrol remedies this. Spanning about 58 minutes, the audio here comes from a December 2006 gig in San Francisco. Giannelli claims that the subsequent performance was inadvertently inspired by spending much of that day in conversation with seminal industrial artist and friend Monte Cazazza, whose limited output includes a record on Telepathic. This extended encounter puts some of the track titles and certainly the artwork, a parody of the standard Psychic TV live album template, into context, though the liner notes provide no clear indication whether or not this thematic structure had been his intent all along.
From the opening William S. Burroughs cut-up to segments marked "Bring Me Thee Head Ov Genesis P-Orridge," Kook Kontrol could be superficially viewed as an immodest hour-long snipe. Yet when stripped of the anti-PTV motif, listeners are left with all the hallmarks of Giannelli's infectious, club-friendly sensibility. Seamlessly mixing with Ableton Live software, Giannelli presumably worked that Californian dancefloor nice and hard with acidic bass lines, sumptuous stabs, and steady machine beats. Some of the tracks come from previous releases, such as "A Little Older, A Little Bolder," while others appear for the first time. Highlights include "Precious Prescience" and "Delirious Delores," though the entire set flows logically with natural peaks and rare valleys. As A Guy Called Gerald did with his Proto-Acid in 2006, Giannelli charts a similar course with this non-stop mix of original material that references the past (of techno as well as his own), while simultaneously challenging the future.
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