Perhaps the stylings of Max Nordile’s recordings under his own name and those as Hair Clinic were destined to converge. The distinct outlets have always shared a good-natured holism in their approach to soundmaking, prizing wrong notes and accidental overhearings alongside half-arranged basement serenades and focused object-bothering. But the exact relationship between the two is hard to pinpoint, which is likely intentional. Hanging by a Fan Over Wet Cement, credited to Max Nordile Hair Clinic, has a lot in common with the solely eponymous Gilgongo releases Building a Better Void and Copper in the Arts as well as last year’s Hot Bev’s Prime Melters cassette on Nordile’s own Music for People imprint, all of which feature instrumentality and environmental extracts in tandem, but the careless field sketches of “Jim’s Place” and domestic improv of At Work and at Home also belong in the lineage. Long story short, everything this guy puts out is good, and this new LP is no exception. Squeaks and scrapes of all sizes and shapes, whether they come from the squawking reeds of “Autotots” and “Off Yew Sounds” or the tactile rattle of “Lois Tenino” and “Beet Soup,” comprise a sort of unifying set of textures that helps wrangle the sonic potpourri into something more easily digestible. But the ever-shifting supply of sounds also retains its dynamism, making the record feel like a suite that even has a hint of narrative—the nomadic guitar ritual “Mug Under Roof” and dream-logic collage “Holt Larf” especially are dramatic little vignettes, the kind that come to life on stages made from driftwood and flea-market furniture. And closer “RnR Dalmation,” though the shortest, might also be my favorite; where else other than a Max Nordile track can you listen to an orchestra of scrap jinglebells, ripped adhesive tape, squeaky toys, and preloaded plastic keyboard samples?
Noise Not Music 