List: Favorite Split Releases of 2024

Outdoor Horse Shrine / Heat Signature C30 (self-released, July)

There are a modest handful of reasons why I’m proud to be from southwest Ohio, and one of the biggest is its noise history. These two projects both originated in the Cincinnati/Dayton area and represent some of the best that contemporary US harsh noise has to offer. Heat Signature need no introduction; their half of this summer tour cassette captures the gestural, white-hot speed of their live sets, a chain-fed onslaught of (un)controlled combustion. The real surprise here is Outdoor Horse Shrine, whose churning transmission surges forth with minimal effects but maximal intensity (a high standard continued on the spectacular Water Course). Listen here

Wolf Creek / Casa di Caccia C38 (Second Sleep, May 9)

At this point I will buy absolutely anything that contains new Wolf Creek material. The Tokyo duo consists of two young musicians who synthesize what we all love most about four glorious decades of eardrum-splitting Japanoise. “Glock Burst Cock” is easily my favorite thing they’ve recorded, and its screeching feedback abuse and vocal mangling sounds like magic on this well-produced tape. It’s one of two Second Sleep splits this year that feature Casa di Caccia (label honcho Matteo Castro’s project with Gianluca Herbertson), and their contribution is a worthy comedown from the violence of the A side, almost pensive in its improvisational agility.

Brain Tourniquet / Deliriant Nerve 7″ (Iron Lung, Jun 28)

Two titans of the D.C. hardcore scene (both anchored by the breakneck drumming of Aidan Angelo) face off on this skull-denting 7″, which sees each band even further embracing their no-frills, classic sound. This is definitely the best Brain Tourniquet has ever sounded; they kick both the speed and heaviness into higher gear, ripping through ten miniatures of brutal knuckle-dragging powerviolence. It’s tough to follow, but Deliriant Nerve brings their A-game as well, delivering their tightest and most satisfying songs yet. Sometimes it’s better to smash the wheel than to reinvent it.

Dressing / Standard Grey C50 (Buried in slag and debris., Dec 20)

A lot of the material on Buried in slag and debris. lives up to the label’s name in some way, but perhaps none so much as this transcontinental split from kindred reel-wranglers Dressing (Dublin) and Standard Grey (Nara). Both artists’ sides deal in sublime detritus of all kinds and could easily be standalone releases in their own right. Dressing balances swirling shard-storms of tape noise with haunted, uneasy harmony, while Grey glides through a focused suite of carefully reworked field recordings. The mud piled up to the doorjamb, the loam under your fingernails that you can’t bring yourself to wash out.

RHYTHMICSHIT / CIRCUITERROR – B.O.N.K. (Karma Detonation, Oct 14)

A C10 is always refreshing, especially a split, which gives each artist an imperative to compress their best ideas and execution into five minutes (or fewer). RHYTHMICSHIT, the Shanghai duo of Junky (Torturing Nurse) and Huang Lei, does this by default; the live set they contribute is just over four minutes and I honestly can’t imagine it being any longer. Another newer project, CIRCUITERROR, ditches the drums but not the aggression with a clusterfuck of crunchy cracked electronics. I love a good contrast between sides, and that plus the brevity makes this one compulsively replayable.

Gemengung / Barrera C60 (Marbre Negre, Sep 15)

Gemengung has always flirted with static structures since the project began, with releases like Forced Collapse and Root Bound favoring thick, layered distortion and subtle development over fast-paced dynamics. But “Devoured by the Understory” is arguably his first straight-up wall track, and it’s glorious. Listen through speakers if you can. Meanwhile, Barrera delivers a characteristically subversive half-hour of no-input stutter. It’s overshadowed a bit by the monster of an A side, but it holds its own well enough. My favorite of the three lovely Gemengung splits we were treated to this year.

Red Boiling Springs / Snail Male C22 (Crooked Branch, Mar 22)

Crooked Branch Collections never disappoints, and their modest two releases this year are no exception. This cassette marks Snail Male’s second split appearance on the label and the first recordings by Red Boiling Springs, a project that was on my radar before I even started publishing reviews, in almost four years. The two artists bring very different but strangely complementary ideas to the table. RBS offers up some interesting “noise by other means,” none of the individual elements overtly abrasive but kicking up quite a racket in combined form. Snail Male’s tracks aim to capture the vulnerable horror of alien abductions, hallucinatory bump and thump that reminds me of Free Magic Show.

Diskord / Atvm – Bipolarities (Transcending Obscurity, Jul 12)

This was a last-minute addition recommended by a friend, and as a chronic DM skeptic I honestly expected to hate it… but something about the general absurdity of Bipolarities just works for me. Diskord is a band that’s been doing this art-damaged tech death sound for more than two decades, and that longevity comes through in how fluid their tracks sound. I enjoy how it almost sounds closer to improvisation than careful composition. Atvm have only been around for a few years, but they’re already evolving; they really embrace the silliness here, from the deranged cowbell groove that kicks off “Cancer” to the dance-circle jam midway through “Morphine.” It’s depressing to be confronted with the state of extreme metal consumerism—in case you were wondering, you can purchase gym shorts, a tote bag, or a coffee mug branded with the album artwork—but at least I have this ridiculous music to distract me.

List: Favorite Compilations, Reissues, and Archival Releases of 2024

Charles Gayle, Milford Graves & William Parker – WEBO (Black Editions, Jun 21)

The last installment in Black Editions’ Milford Graves archival series, Children of the Forest with Arthur Doyle and Hugh Glover, was a shoo-in for inclusion on this list last year. But WEBO is truly on another level, a three-LP box that immortalizes some of the best free music ever performed (and accompanied by an interpretive live-painted cover by Jeff Schlanger). Echoing the incendiary brilliance of Gayle’s titanic Knitting Factory quartet material and the psychic interplay of Parker’s legendary In Order to Survive band, these recordings capture the three wizards at the height of their powers, complete with wholesome stage banter and an appropriately enthusiastic crowd. One of my most-played albums this year.

MC Money & Gangsta Gold – Da Hard ov Frayser remastered LP (Now-Again, Oct 15)

With all of the nostalgic Memphis reissues and unearthings in recent years from Snubnoze, Trill Hill, L.A. Club Resource, and others, it was probably only a matter of time before my favorite tape got the modern recognition it deserves. But that didn’t make it any less of a surprise when I saw the news that MC Money and Gangsta Gold’s eternal Da “Hard” on Frayser, produced and now licensed by the one and only DJ Sound, was getting a remastered vinyl treatment. Though it doesn’t include the fantastic bonus tracks from the 2006 CD-R release, this LP pressing comes with a booklet and photos that honor some of the most formidable artists of this legendary scene (RIP).

Tobe Hooper & Wayne Bell – The Texas Chain Saw Massacre score (Waxwork, Dec 13)

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is an important movie to me for many reasons, but perhaps in largest part because the iconic score was what led me to discover the existence of a curious little thing called noise music. After decades of bootlegs being circulated, the original master tapes finally emerged last year, then lovingly transferred, remixed, and remastered by Wayne Bell himself, just in time for the classic Southern slasher’s fiftieth birthday. It’s almost surreal to hear the creeping industrial soundscapes without dialogue still enmeshed in the recordings. What a time to be ~~alive~~ a walking pile of meat.

Ezio Piermattei – Gran trotto remastered LP (Holidays, Dec 20)

I love everything Piermattei puts out, but Gran trotto surpassed his already high standard and steadily settled into masterpiece status. First released as a humble limited CD-R on Chocolate Monk, these naturalistic audio-diary entries and their easygoing openness were perhaps always meant to find their fullest life on wax. The sounds and the way they amble through spaces both defined and surreal are timeless (even beyond, as Ed Pinsent notes, the fact that no “modern” noises are present); a reissue three decades on would feel just as welcome.

OVMN – Hard Driven Resonance pro CS reissue (Advaita, Jul 27)

No one can understate the importance of mainline Macro to the noise genre, but for me personally it’s always been the various auxiliary mutations that have gotten the most play time. OVMN (Optimum Volume Maximum Noise) was/is the side project that blurs the lines the most; the personnel for Hard Driven Resonance—first released in an aluminum-wrapped, extremely limited promo edition in 1996—simply consists of core members Roemer and Stella, but for whatever reason this bloated, loose-strung, sweat-soaked, fiercely unserious slab of harsh scratches an itch that Crack or Grind don’t. Kudos to Advaita for some great work recently.

OsamaSon (as Lil O) – Leaks Tape vols. 1 & 2 (self-released, Dec 13)

Part of the double-edged sword of musical success is the risk of losing control, whether legal or creative, of your own art. Even with seemingly nonstop leaks and label fuckery (as well as a brutal dox), OsamaSon always manages to come out on top. Despite the rollout of his highly anticipated upcoming record Jumpout being delayed as a result of these dramas, 2024 was a great year for the young MC, culminating with the surprise drop of these two leaked track roundups. The first volume is better than most official full-length albums by other rappers (“My Bad” and “Hope” are standouts), and the second features the entirety of the fantastic Christian Boultan EP he released under an alias back in May.

Sawako – Sounds (12k, Apr 26)

I know of the late Sawako Kato thanks to both her beloved album Hum (also on 12k) and her spellbinding 2012 live improvisations with hofli, Kazuya Matsumoto, and Yui Onodera. As friend and collaborator Kenneth Kirschner highlights in the poignant eulogy that comprises the release notes for Sounds, a collection of recordings she sent to him in 2003, Kato was enamored with the small, delicate, near-silent whispers that glimmer at the jagged edges of the noise of life. These colorful miniatures express appreciation for both the former and the latter, as well as the elusive connections between them. A fitting swan song for a force gone too soon.

Hingst – Ska vi älska så ska vi älska till Wall Riders (AAD, Apr 9)

Hingst, the Swedish super-duo of Johan Strömvall Hammarstedt and Edvin Norling, have become one of the most reliable sources of satisfying analog crunch-harsh in the mere handful of years they’ve existed. This handsome catchall digipak collects their first three self-released tapes—a self-titled C20, Hingst På Dude Ranch, and Årets Album— for a wider audience. Though their debut CD that also dropped this year was great (see my review), Ska vi älska så ska vi älska till Wall Riders was really what cemented this project as a clear new favorite.

Smell & Quim + Expose Your Eyes – Quasi-modo Cacandi CD reissue (ODMOWA, Jan 13)

The latest in a string of excellent re-releases from these reclusive “exotic audio purveyors,” this collaboration first saw life as a cassette from Stinky Horse Fuck in 1996 and is now available as a six-panel digipak. Originally performed by infamous perverts Smell & Quim, the source recordings underwent merciless “split-stereo abuse” by Expose Your Eyes, who also assisted ODMOWA operator M. Wrzosek in the remastering process. Satisfyingly sleazy and encrusted with grime, it retains its diseased rawness even when imprisoned within the most sterile format.

Teignmouth Electron – You Are Not Alone (adhuman, Apr 26)

I loved this back in the spring when it came out, but the moody paranormal atmosphere only became more fitting as the days shortened and darkness fell. Another meta factor that works in You Are Not Alone’s favor is its archival origin; acts of exhumation occur on multiple levels, from the snaring of errant frequencies from the great beyond to the disinterment of the 25-year-old material itself. Only listen if you have a free shoulder to look over. Original review

Review: Arek Gulbenkoglu – Swan in the Past (KINDLING, Dec 1)

Melbourne’s Arek Gulbenkoglu has been honing an elusive but distinct approach for the past two decades, a trajectory that began with his earliest guitar-based material in the mid-aughts and telescoped with the release of cult classic The Reoccurrence in 2014. The past few years alone, however, have seen the sound artist’s most refined and purposeful work yet. Much of what I wrote about fissure, fissure, fissure applies to Swan in the Past, the third entry in Eamon Sprod’s inspired KINDLING series. Here again are the episodic vignettes of unassuming materiality, percussive punctures that have weight but no mass, blocks and smears of self-contained stasis. But KINDLING’s print element provides a new dimension for understanding Gulbenkoglu’s work, even if it introduces just as many questions as answers. The cover of the booklet (Sprod conspicuously calls it a “newspaper”) features the word “paradise” in green text, rendered in both English and various classical languages. The ten inner pages contain a series of images: individual curiosities in a seemingly random arrangement, a baffling clean-cut montage sequence somehow both more and less than the sum of its parts… sound familiar? It’s like a visual representation of what Gulbenkoglu is getting at with his music, an invitation to make connections between the unconnected, to draw conclusions from the inconclusive. It helps that the sonic aspect of Swan in the Past is more eclectic and unpredictable than ever. The first five-or-so minutes are radically minimal yet proceed with purpose, at least for a while. Digital obstacles—stalled process loops, computer concrète, clinical hum and whir—complicate things. Even when a piano creeps into the mix and hints at some shred of organic tonality, it soon reveals itself to be coldly synthesized. Later, unseen hands fumble with a tape deck before kicking off a lengthy drone that feels like a drill straight through the skull. The burbling coda is a relief, a cliffhanger, an epilogue: What was that? What now? Plan, not to scale, of the rooms in the social sciences building, Duke University?

Also check out The Greek Tape from earlier this year as well as the equally excellent first two KINDLING releases by Éric La Casa & Taku Unami and Seth Cooke.

Reviews: Unknown Artist, Belisimo (Everyday Samething, Nov 8)

I’ve written extensively about Everyday Samething on the site, so there’s little I could say here that I haven’t already said… other than that 2024 is almost over and they’re still killing it. In love with this new batch.

Unknown Artist – James Blunt Documentary

Have you seen the new James Blunt documentary? Yes, it’s a documentary about English singer-songwriter James Blunt. Yes, the guy who did “You’re Beautiful.” Yes, I could think of a few things your hour and a half might be better spent on. For example, you could play this single-sided cassette called James Blunt Documentary four times (with room for rewinds). No, it’s not just remixes of “You’re Beautiful” (as far as I know). Yes, it’s an ambiguous glitch-strewn nightmare, structured around warped digital noise that twists and shivers with all the anxiety of a 21st-century pop culture enthusiast. Yes, the man himself makes an appearance in the form of a muffled, awkward interview, likely an excerpt from the documentary itself—if you weren’t aware, Blunt is classically trained in the obscure ancient tradition known as “self-deprecating humor.” Yes, it is yet another superb anonymous entry in the Everyday Samething catalog that blends analog obscurity with internet-era despair. No, you won’t regret listening to it. Yes, you will regret being born.

Belisimo – The Release Is Printed on an Edition of One Custom Thimble

Going off precedent, the title of this new work from Belisimo could very well be an actual fact, but what’s more subversive than subverting subversion? Ironically, an unhearable anti-music object version (à la Seth Cooke’s Selected Works concrete cube, perhaps) would be less of an affront than whatever this is. Buried somewhere at the center of this loathsome web of half-formed textures is the human voice, but that knowledge alone isn’t enough to affirm it as reality. Beneath communication breakdown lies communication death. “The sensation of suddenly realising you have wet hair in a public place.” Singing is no more artful, no less useless than sighing. The synth-soaked kitsch of Tears for Fears’ “Mad World” lands somewhere between embarrassing faux pas and repulsive taboo in the context of abject nonsense. Scrabble and scrape, mutter and melt… it feels both too long and too short. The Release Is Printed on an Edition of One Custom Thimble.

Review: Winter’s Treasures – Out of Reach and Useless (Phons, Oct 29)

Though I’m definitely a fan of his solo work, Liam Kramer-White excels in improvised duo contexts, whether with Stella Silbert as Beige, with Arkm Foam as LMFAO, or most recently with Dean Fazzino as Winter’s Treasures. (It also shouldn’t be overlooked that there’s something about Massachusetts that continues to draw like-minded oddballs to set up their tables across from one another… for more subversive jams try on Lean, Variant State, or Foom & Foam for size.) Packaged in a gorgeous screenprinted clear case, Out of Reach and Useless feels like a breath of fresh air. Fazzino is up to his usual tricks—the scattershot circuit wrack will be immediately familiar to fans of the lovely Robert Fuchs roster or the first few Spate releases—but here they’re controlled and thoughtful. The two artists play a good-natured game of tug-of-war with the intensity of their collective conjurings: in “Born Yesterday,” feedback and sine tones temper a white-hot electrical fire, which subsequently engulfs everything to kick off the raucous “Law School.” It’s an excellent tape front to back, but the real standout is the surging closer “Loss of Member Support.” Kramer-White and Fazzino strike a perfect balance between responding to each other and simply working up a racket. I can’t stop replaying this one.

Copies are available via email: phons.sound@gmail.com or robert.c.fuchs@gmail.com.

Show Report: Star / Kieran Daly (Triest, Nov 13)

This was my second time at Triest, the first being the James Emrick / RM Francis gig a few weeks ago. It’s primarily a DIY gallery, and while the bright, cold lighting probably works during the day when there’s also natural light to supplement it, the experience of walking in when it’s dark outside is pretty damn cursed. The vibes warmed up a lot once the fluorescents shut off and a sole yellow lamp lit the small but comfortable space.

STAR is a project most people are at least aware of. Sam Franklin’s enigmatic analog rituals have an unusual crossover appeal: though a lot of the praise I’ve heard has come from friends in the noise sphere, and the releases that haven’t been produced via in-house imprint I Am Elegant have come out on heavy-hitting labels like White Centipede and Hospital, the crowd for this show seemed more on the improv/sound art side of things. (It’s strange to even separate the two, but no one can deny they feel very separate in New York.) I’ve never seen him play and have only heard a few tapes, so I was unsure what to expect setup-wise, and yet I wasn’t surprised by the simplicity: a minimal array of two cassette players (one deck, one Walkman), a stomp controller, and a mixer. The ease with which Franklin operated the system gave the impression that he’s been working with it for some time. The set immediately settled into a freeform drift of overlapping loops and organic feedback, with milestones marked by the addition of a vocal mic and a small melodica. It started to meander once the latter came into the mix, but ended strong with a satisfying final rally cut off by a sudden killswitch flip.

KIERAN DALY, who’s on a mini-tour right now that will conclude with a set with frequent collaborator Sam Weinberg at Figure8 tomorrow, has been making some of the most interesting, and often baffling, improvised (etc.) music in recent years. His recent aptly paired splits with kindred spirits Luciano Maggiore and Ashcircle are great examples of his humbly radical approach. The familiar silhouette of an Epiphone SG set the tone for a memorable solo performance full of stuttering, stumbling monophony. I sometimes feel a bit gaslit by an audience’s stone-faced silence when confronted with some of the more ridiculous strains of experimental music—I was the only one laughing my ass off during the (excellent) RM Francis set—but that was thankfully not the case here. The comedic timing of Daly’s dissonant waddles was perfect, and he even cracked himself up a few times. Even putting aside the hilarity it was an enthralling combo of technicality and clumsiness, all of it intentional. The legacy of Derek Bailey is alive and well; there’s nothing so thrilling as being gathered around a single devotee of the guitar as they push the iconic instrument to its most absurd limits.

Review: Wasauksing Sniper – Ghost in the Trenches (Western Front, Oct 11)

With two tapes under his belt as Wasauksing Sniper, a project dedicated to the legendary Ojibwe marksman Francis Pegahmagabow, Winnipeg’s Bret Parenteau had already set a precedent for gritty, glacial heavy electronics steeped in the sediment of history and the dust of recycled tape. But Ghost in the Trenches, a follow-up to Western Front (which also gave the artist’s in-house imprint its name) takes things to a new level. These new recordings are dynamic and deliberate in their structures, in a way that past releases weren’t. That’s not a dig, don’t get me wrong; I was a huge fan of the seething slow-burns well before this one made it into the deck. There’s just a lot more to sink your teeth into here, without compromising the lumbering, almost pensive pace. In “Into the Ground,” Parenteau raises a swirling twister of feedback from the ravaged earth of no-man’s land and then minces it into a brutal, crunchy wall, terraforming the blast sites and foxholes like churning tank treads. The plod pays off, too, when ripping distortion drags the rumble into higher registers—now the air is on fire. The next two shorter cuts make room for concentrated texture worship: “Plunder at Night” is some of the harshest material yet, and “A Shot from the Hole” plays with repetitive swells before collapsing into all-out howl. And then there’s the title track, which takes up the entirety of side B and reaches blood-boiling levels of intensity. I don’t want to spoil too much… you just gotta listen. I have a feeling this is a tape that will find a lot of new ears.

Copies are available via email: wasauksingsniper@outlook.com.

Review: Instituto de Psicogeografía – Psicogeografía II (Resonant Tapes, Oct 4)

Interviewed by Max Eastman in Puke Pink, mail art and cassette culture titan Gen Ken Montgomery offers some eternal advice: “I encourage people to listen deeply. Listen alone and with others. Listen to yourself, listen to others, listen to rivers, trees, rocks, and birds. Listen to the voice in your head and the noise in the world and observe where it takes you. Sound is a form of transportation.” The Guanajuato-based Instituto de Psicogeografía takes this credo to heart—to listen to their tapes is to be submerged in another place entirely. To the ears, a location’s true essence is more than just the sounds that are heard; it’s also the sounds that aren’t, and el Instituto duly portrays the noise of the streets and the currents surging through the skies with equal reverence. The A side of II, their most recent release, is a languid mélange of earth and electricity. Abstract musical threads spool outward from a variety of sources and then melt into embraces from the natural world: radio chatter dissolves into insect swarm, emf sputter meets anxious footsteps. So much care was taken in assembling these collages, acts of respect and admiration for the world in all its imperfections. I’m reminded of Frenchbloke & Son’s legendary Bruit dans l’intéret de musique mix, a work I adore for the same reason. Things get a bit more tense on the B, with garbled commentators narrating a nighttime drama of birdsong and obtuse electronics. Already looking forward to the next adventure from this promising new initiative.

Review: Angelo Bignamini – Rebelòt (More Mars, Sep 26)

From a secluded outpost near the cities of Lodi and Piacenza, Angelo Bignamini raises entire worlds from the surface of a table. In an interview with Zoomin’ Night operator Zhu Wenbo, who released his tape Take a Seat early last year, he describes his process as harnessing small-scale interactions between “found objects ([such] as small stones, woods and plastic components), pre-recorded stuff on tapes and CDs, and small feedback devices.” A guitarist at heart—he has also put out a few solo guitar recordings and played in avant-rock duo The Great Saunites—Bignamini displays an equally musical ear for the possibilities offered by these unconventional materials, especially on Rebelòt, a new cassette collecting what is now my favorite material he has released under his own name so far. There’s a restlessly eager sonic lens at work throughout the eight active fragments, homing in on microscopic whirs and flits before racking back to sweep over a lush life-sized scene. The field recordings are simply one of many elements on the same footing, mere tools for finding fleeting contrast and/or harmony… they flash into earshot in full crystal-clear focus before cutting out just as quickly. The most affecting moments are those brief, unstable synergies: the graceful duet between winding tape and creaking floorboards in A3, the dissonant clusters of natural and synthetic sound blown into glinting glass sculptures in B2. A real gem from an artist and label who consistently offer the best that contemporary electroacoustic music has to offer.

Review: Spore Spawn – Okoranaideto (Oxen, Sep 20)

Making noise that’s truly colorful is harder to do, and even harder to do well. A synesthetic dimension that’s evoked by both relevant visual aesthetics and the psychedelic intricacies of the music itself, color is even more subjective and slippery than most other ways we might assess the essence of a work. Looking to recent examples, rainbows can blossom from the right combination of gear (e.g., the fecund modular contraptions of White Widow or Total Sweetheart), an abundance of visceral emotion (Spate’s Dogmono), or decadent textural feasts (Kakerlak’s Obdormition). Vivid cover art doesn’t hurt, either (see Form Hunter’s Overripe). At the intersection of all these potential sources of sonic vibrance stands Spore Spawn’s new CD Okoranaideto, a saturated chunk of phantasmagoric intensity that marks a new peak for the Niigata project. “Ahaha” sounds all too familiar at first, resembling countless tiresome sets I’ve seen that consist of a droning ambient undercurrent punctuated by episodic blasts, but it soon reveals itself to be an engaging and progressive crescendo. Spawn doesn’t use traditional loops, and yet he does structure these tracks around repeating motifs that always promise (and deliver) a satisfying resolution. Cyclical contortions in “Ichiichi” conjure a kind of meta-rhythm, to the point where one can almost predict the shape and trajectory of the next writhing manifold before it even occurs. None of the three peter out or end with a whimper; anticipation levels remain high through the final seconds, which are perfectly punctuated with one or more last-ditch spasms.