Posted by Soddy
on Fri Jul 01, 2005 12:17 am
Unecessary Intro. So I was going through a bunch of old, deletable text files when I accidently came across this almost-but-not-quite-finished NOISE REVIEW. I guess I never got around to polishing and posting it. Here it is then, in full un-edited glory. Please forgive the grammatical errors, incomplete sentences, unevenness and such. I feel it`s more representitive of my impressions at the time to simply leave it "as is". Pluse more "noise"-like. Right then.
FUCK MY ASS vol IV : deep in the temple of noise
Facialmess+TwoAssistant Deputy Ministers
June 27, Studio 80, Kamata 2004
Warning: the writer of the following review both organized and performed in this event. But, since it`s doubtful that anyone else will do the honors, here goes...
Highlight of the show: Kelly Churko and Government Alpha on guitar and pedals, Justice Yeldham, the artist formerly known as Smallcock on the crapper.
Hmm. Sitting here trying to figure out who the real stars of the show were. Was it drunk-as-a-fart Sanderson crooning away at random audience members throughout the evening. Was it
I should have taken it as a sign of things to come when, a good four hours before FUCK MY ASS IV was due to start, Kenny Sanderson, aka Facialmess, emerged from the nearby conveni hefting three big chu-hi. "I`m sick of the pedal jockey thing," he says, sitting down and cracking one open.
He`s sick of spending months editing. He`s sick of this shit. What happened to the good old days when you could just plug in and go nuts? I wanted to say something like,
He then goes on and on about how spending six months editing his noise on the computer is simply not the way it should be done. So here`s the new Sanderson of 2004: putting the "mess" back in Facialmess.
Fast forward to the show. First act was, well, Facialmess vs Two Assistant Deputy Ministers, together again for the first time in about four years. Can`t comment much on the sound, but according to Government Alpha, "Sound was good, but you have to calm own!" Said Timisoara, "Totally crazy!" I quite enjoyed the way Sanderson opened the performance, announcing our act as "Sex Glue", and doing a self-described Blixa Bargeld "noise crooner" routine, pointing and shambling in the direction various lookers-on, "I see you... I see you... there." What a drunken nut. And I also quite enjoyed smashing the shit out of a craptop to close it out. "We were fucken good", Sanderson enthused modestly. "Fucken good". I think he, with acknowledgements to Suntory Malt`s, may have repeated this about twenty times.
Next came Timisoara. Now, there are noisepervs out there, whose views and work I respect, who shall remain nameless, who have expressed to me that Timisoara fails to "get their blood pumping". All I have to say to that is this: Hey, DOMINIK OF PRURIENT AND HOSPITAL PRODUCTIONS, get your ass over to Japan!" What you might be treated to is something like this: an un-humanly monstrous, unbelievably dense, punishing, roar of rumbling hell. I submit the following: Timisoara is, without question, the single most talented live noise unit on the planet. She may lack that ineffable "presence" I`ve heard used to describe other noise units, but she makes up for that five hundred-fold in terms of the actual sound. Presence? Fuck presence. Open your ears and listen. Who needs presence when you have NOISE. GOOD NOISE. The shit is just beautiful, rich, extremely heavily layered, skilfully manipulated and molested to achived a haunting beauty of monstrous proportions. Recently throwing rhythmical elements into the mix, she has recently been embraced by the "power noise" community. But I`ve seen her play to a crowd of power noise goths. Nobody has the urge to shake their booty, move a muscle, tap a toe. The shit is just so overwhelmingly massive and dense people are transfixed, rooted to the spot. There`s really not much you can do except give yourself over the awesome beast that is Timisoara. If this shit fails to get your blood pumping you are either a) dead as a doorknob or b) deaf as a post. Sanderson is beside himself in worship. "FUCK, YEAH! YEAAAH! That`s.... awww... that`s... fuck... fuck the fuckers who say Timisoara isn`t... fuck... FUCK... fucken good... FUCKEN GOOD... OH YEAAH! YEAAH! Awww... that`s... FUCK DOM! that`s fucken good, that... that`s... fuck." And so on. She just gets better and better. Probably the best part of the performance was when Roger Karmanik and this incredible hot chicky-babe bust in and start jumping on on another.
Government Alpha and Kelly Churko, two of the more versatile artists in the medium, Churko rather more prone to experimentation proper, Yoshida more prone to just fucking shit up. The best part of the there set was when I dashed into the shitter to fill up on recycled toilet water to find Justic Yeldham (the artist formerly known as Smallcock) on the throne. A truly memorable moment that I will treasure always. Government Alpha and Kelly Churko dishing the noise, super fit sex-crazed bird having it on, and the artist formerly known as Smallcock taking a big ol` dump. Beautiful.
Justice Yeldham (the artist formerly known as Smallcock) walks into the performance space and starts off the show by theatrically draining half a pint of sex-lube before plastering his face on a sheet of roughly cut glass gurgling and retching into the transparent surface, looking very much like a recent victim of . A shoving match transpires, which the sheet of glass finally loses, shattering over his face and onto the floor. Still Yeldham is going at it, with a much reduced piece of glass, as Yoshida, prompted by the concerned staff, grabs a broom and dustpan and starts sweeping up the bits. I know what you`re thinking. "Ah, one of them performance artists." But don`t you believe it. This could compete with Gasolineman, not just in its wacked presentation, but in terms of the actual sound generated. Think lightning zip and screech, dirtier, more minimal than Gasolineman, but more spastic and out-of-control. The audience were very appreciative, and I was forced to run up, grab his hand and raise it skyward declaring, "The King!"
Reminds me very much of Gasolineman, the Sendai-based noise nut who struts around that a homeboy with contact mics strapped to his body, hopping around sounding like a souped up Masonna.
I apologize but prior to the performance I took the dude to be some sort of "artist", and therefor
I remember him bitching about how they still insist on calling him Peeled Hearts Paste. "Damn, Peeled Hearts Paste is old. I`m sick of Peeled Hearts Pastes.
Astro. Karmanik and friend still going. Given that it`s still quite early in the evening, I invite Karmanik and friend to stage a little performance of their own, but they respectfully decline. Astro, utilizing a more minimal set-up than usual, proceeded to blow the earholes to hell. Absolutely gorgeoues, highly detailed precision scorching assault. Sounds dipping and dancing and delicious and dynamic devastation.
Suddenly, in mid hyper-spasm Astro cuts out, leaving dead silence for the briefest of intervals before the audience erupts into a shrieking hysteria of appreciation
My favorite moment was when I tried to sit in front of the speaker and accidently unplugged Astro in mid hyper-spasm. Just add one more to the total number of indiivduals whose shows I`ve managed to fuck up in some way. Hasegawa took it very well, merely smiling and then going . The audience, thinking the show is over, erupt into shrieks of deranged joy and appreciation, Sanderson leading the charge of, "More! More! More!" I think it was Tano-san who successfully concluded that some dickhead had accidently unplugged Astro.
This time the screams for more were in vain. With apologies to Yeldham-san, I raised Hasegawa`s arm in victory, declaring the "New King!"