Jason Lescalleet
How To Not Do It [CS; Chondritic Sound]

Chrondritic Sound steps out of the shadows after a brief hiatus with this new curiosity (already in its second pressing) from the perpetually consistent Jason Lescalleet. Side A begins this audacious journey immersed in mangled magnetics, splattering water, conversations in foreign languages, sensual whispers, furious answering machine rants, and elusive drones. This pastiche of arresting concrete veers notably beyond Lescalleet’s frequent focus on absorbing, ponderous drones, instead becoming something of a slyly Dadaist patchwork in the manner of Nurse With Wound’s Gyllensköld, Geijerstam And I At Rydberg’s or even Luc Ferrari’s sound operas. The flip side further confounds, centering itself on a screwed-out manipulation of Manfred Mann’s recording of “Blinded By The Light,” winkingly emphasizing the song’s underlying sleaziness, especially in regards to that infamously misunderstood line (you know the one). All in all, How To Not Do It acts as a fascinating take on Lescalleet’s familiar tape-music explorations, perhaps all the more compelling for those who’ve been following his work over the 00s with a meticulous gaze. It’s all rather far removed from the gorgeous drone of his last cassette, 2010’s Music For Magnetic Tape, but it stands as an aptly constructed handling of the format nonetheless.

Links: Jason Lescalleet - Chondritic Sound

Mark Bradley / No Mind Meditation

Mark Bradley / No Mind Meditation

[CS; Goldtimers]

Some historians who care about such monotony place the colloquial drawl of Chicago as the best facsimile to Shakespearian speech patterns. Although Romeo and Juliet never endured sub-zero temps at Soldier Stadium nor did Macbeth get caught up in the loop during rush hour, there is more than a smattering of original art sprouting from the gem of Lake Michigan, much of it in cassette form. Wrap your head around Chicagoland performing Othello and pick up this gracious curtsy from Goldtimers, which simulates pop culture through art. Mark Bradley’s side is infectious, poison ivy you can’t help but scratch, because relief — however temporary — feels oh-so-good. Much like ol’ Bill, I appreciate tried and true stories packed with a bit of theatric drama, and Bradley delivers with a steady stream of electronic rhythms and drifting drones. Bradley’s side is the build to the climax, whereas No Mind Mediation is the resolution. Fortunately, the story of Goldtimers is one of happy endings, not beheadings and madness. NMM rides into the orange sunset on a rainbow of chilled oscillations. Clouds full of rain crying happy tears in syncopated bliss, stars streaking across a clear night’s sky with galactic melody, all over the ending credits. Romeo and Juliet go hand in hand into the Montagues and Capulets getting-to-know-you dinner; death never on the menu.

Links: Goldtimers

Che Chen

Pulaski Wave / Newtown Creek Mirror Lag

[7-inch; Pilgrim Talk]

Che Chen, also of Locust Music heavyweights True Primes, is taking the lonesome road with his violin in hand, seeing where five minutes with his instrument takes him. On Side A, the results of his inner quest are intriguing but less than fulfilling; the flip seems a little less flip to me, or to be blunt, there’s more going on: sound waves are ricocheting off each other and lots of loops co-mingle while retaining their space in the composition. A gorgeous, plodding procession is the pay-off, rife with little bursts and pops adding exclamation points to an otherwise steady ride. The subtleties make all the difference. While I never cottoned to that True Primes LP, Chen is staking out some innovative territory through the solo work offered here/hear. (There’s also a CD included with a much longer piece entitled “Black Mayonnaise,” which makes me think of the cool band on Fedora Corpse.) Never hurts to check back in, I guess.

Links: Pilgrim Talk

LX Sweat

Sweat Sweat Sweat

[CS; Not Not Fun]

This is DJ Bone and you’re listening to HOTT 101.5. Hope you’re keeping cool in the summer sun, and if you’re not, enjoy the piss and spittle of the community pool as we play the HOTTEST hits of 1987. Coming up this hour we have Cameo, Lisa Lisa & the Cult Jam, and Jermaine Stewart, but first we have the latest groove sweeping the nation: From the ghetto blasters of Not Not Fun comes LX Sweat, dripping his Deutsche musk all across our doughy faces. This is a HOOOTTTT JAM that will make panties drop as Pat Robertson and Fred Phelps make love to each other in the bathroom of the Blue Oyster. Don’t forget to take a puff and grab a snort before making your way back to the dance floors, as the grimy haze of LX Sweat soaks your XXXL muscle tee. Here it is, the HOOOOTTTTTEEEESSSSTTTT new tape on the R&B radar, Sweat Sweat Sweat only on HOTT 101.5…

Links: Not Not Fun


Spinning Liquid Mirror

[CS; Fabrica]

I figured a million bands would get around to experimenting in the Morton Subotnick/Edmond de Deyster axis, and while it’s going on, a lot of it hasn’t hit my cassette deck. THREE CHEERS for Orbless, then, for getting up in there and fuckin’ shit up. At first, I thought more of an atmospheric noise exercise was in order, but then those blippity-bloppity synths come in and start belching all over the place like Fantastic Planet never happened. There are moments of outright choppiness, where cones of sound are woven and disintegrated almost instantaneously, then sections of smoother drift float by like asteroids through eternal space. I find both gears of Orbless to be worthy of infatuation, and they work well stacked on top of each other, too. It’d be nice to hear this mess slathered across two thick slabs of vinyl, honestly, but the cassette on its own works wonders. Fabrica 1, The Gods 0.

Links: Fabrica

Venn Rain/Past Utopia


[CS; Goldtimers]

Venn Rain, to be righteously confused with Ving Rhames, has been fogging up the windshield for quite some time. I’m not the only one heavily breathing with each Venn Rain release; scene watchers snatch up all the ultra-lux, superior-limited tapes and trinkets nearly as soon as they drop. Past Utopia is the latest identity for teenage phenom Carter Mullin. But Goldtimers hooks me up with their latest split and I Pointer Sisters with joy. Unlike the title, there is nothing hokey or nostalgic, no tip of the cap to bygone eras when past generations swear it was better. War was always present, fear always rampant, and people always telling others how to live their lives. No rose-colored prophesying here. This past is in fact the future and not Orwellian in scope. It is a perfect storm of calming loops — think of it as a live action Buddha Machine. Ideas bleed into one another (where Venn Rain begins and Past Utopia begins, who knows?), and though pitch and length aren’t at your control (so not completely utopian), the cool summer breezes of Anytown, USA run thick hands through your airy coif. This music stuffs the briefcase soul back into Marcellus’ neck, and Bonnie won’t be a looming threat as we peacefully clean out the car. It’s all one big synthetic parade without the lingering worry that Harry Tuttle is putting an end to your dreamy, sleep-filled future.

Links: Goldtimers

Ensemble Economique

Live in London

[CS; Not Not Fun]

The classic splash gracing the cover of Live in London (artfully mimicking the classic album design of RCA albums) is the visual mantra of Brian Pyle’s one-man deconstruction. But on a stage, Pyle is pouring out solitude in 40-minute spurts. Live in London is a man alone in The Vortex, not giving a shit about perception, killing off the old Ensemble Economique one release at a time and wiping his fingerprints from the trigger. Shredding tape loops, shrouding them in a mass of inhumane static until the results are unrecognizable. Aside from the anguished wail of “Do You?” from Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U,” much of Live in London is caustic noir. It’s punch-drunk on violence, wildly swinging until it makes contact with the audience. It won’t stop until the pulp has been beaten out of everyone before Pyle washes out the blood stains and goes on destroying what he once held as truth. Pyle’s collecting insurance on a dead entity, using it to build a new identity in a new place, with no remorse for the ruthlessness of obtaining a second life.

Links: Ensemble Economique - Not Not Fun



[CS; Brave Mysteries]

The patience of Larvae is that of actual metamorphosis. It’s a sensual meditation using all the facilities of one man indoctrinated with fantastical mythology. It’s a trip to ruined monuments of historic excess and glorious divination. Hera will sex you up, Zeus will eat your embryo, and Poseidon will make damn sure you are shipwrecked after escaping Sirenum scopuli. Urna hand-feeds you life-giving ambrosia, and to refuse it, to spit in the face of the gods who wish to control your fate, is forgoing knowledge in favor of chance. The mysteries unraveled in the tome of Larvae are yours to absorb, to gulp until you are no longer thirsty. You have it all at your fingertips. Just press play and let the whispered folk tales become your new reality. Television is for the unimaginative, the unworthy. Urna is for the ambitious, the dreamer. Make the proper sacrifice and your godly prize awaits.

Links: Brave Mysteries

Alpha Strategy / Projekt Stinka


[12-inch; Ownness]

Alpha Strategy’s side of Muck is like an aging punk rocker slurring over a ramshackle, firecracker-eating band left over from a surf-death party that never actually happened. Effects and scanners warble over the mix like hordes of cockroaches, eating the musicians alive as they sway and swoon. Underneath it all, there is a shuckin’, divin’ rock ‘n’ roll song, and it is called “Append and Divide.” Listen to it. “O Tar Pilous Devout” is up next, and it jumps off the rails immediately. And you thought Sewn Leather was sick; you knew NOTHING! Drum machines and laboratories full of steamy beakers and shit — Arab On Radar were fuckin’ amateurs, man! Project Sinka inhabit the flip side of this warped wax-on wax-off and… the less said about their brand of Spaghetti Eastern the better. Or maybe I like spoken-word-over-accordion more than I think I do. Just maybe, not really. (HIYO?) “Nosohltan” and… that other song, boy; if the excitement from Side A had a cigarette-smoking, bizarro version of itself, Project Stinka would be it. Maybe it’ll grow. But I don’t think it’s going to happen.

Links: Ownness

R. Adams


[CS; Sunshine Ltd.]

In a world flowing with holy men and televangelists, it’s nice to find alternative ways to transcendence. Culled from various religious tombs, W(REST)LE’s experience is far removed from its trappings. Its pulse, though meditative, is faster than its calming surface would have you believe. Accordingly, the end results are just as varied as religion. So much coming from such a small source of history, it’s a whole new hymnal for those who believe in what cures. There is no higher calling, just the voice of the divine. How it’s interpreted is up to the ears that hear its bellow. Rather than hellacious turns of abstract noise, Adams is reaching a hand down from the heavens. He’s pulling the righteous praise and mixing them just outside the gates of St. Peter, then calling to Moses to carve it on tape reels. The only Commandment is ‘Thou cannot ignore.’ Why would you? This is deep, heady prayer from the secular. I am uplifted, and it isn’t by the mangled interpretation of man, but by the Shroud of Adams.

Links: Sunshine Ltd.

Cerberus seeks to document the spate of home recorders and backyard labels pressing limited-run LPs, 7-inches, cassettes, and objet d'art with unique packaging and unknown sound. We love everything about the overlooked or unappreciated. If you feel you fit such a category, email us here.