This cassette was one of the larger hunks of debris floating around the backwaters of my mind during 2016. It has an impish sense of humor that’s missing from so much of the po-faced self-importance or a red-eyed, hyper-sexualized focus of Noise. This music is collected from various compilations and split releases from the late 90s but outside of local live shows it’s hard to find new noisy, harsh sounds with the same willingness to devolve into ridiculous. Scrolling through the fifty-odd Noise distros and labels I have bookmarked, there’s endless grim, black and white photography of gore juxtaposed with half-naked women in bondage gear and oh god all of this looks like ten different records I already own. Yes, Flutter was guilty of this back in the day too, but there was also a wink and a sly grin as they turned the sound of R2-D2 into a static cacophony and named the track “8 OZ. Sizzler.” That manic, perverse glee is energizing and it made me laugh, put a smile on my face, and got stuck in my head for the last 6 months. Hey, it’s just noise, it’s okay to have a laugh.