It’s so common to read salvos from underground weirdos that extoll the virtues of: “I listen to everything! I’ll be walking by a paint-shaker and I’ll be like, ‘Damn huh-huh, that’d make a great album huh-huh!’ ” And while occasionally the found-sound folks are correct in their zeal, they often end up championing audio that’s flat, flabby, and incoherent. Anyone can find an object/structure/outgrowth/insect/industrial machine/vibrator/German porno/forest and record it; what impresses me, to the fucking bone, is the folks that can present a concept that’s just as fun to listen to as it is to plot/record/describe/discuss/fantasize about/write up a one-sheet for/masturbate to. Vertonen is one of the fellows who, nigh on 20 years now, rides a fine line and refrains from splashy overtures. He never cuts off your ear to spite your aural senses no matter how clattery and clangy his compositions get. His sense of flow and movement is singular, his fluid constructions conjuring all manner of images and sounds you didn’t know you didn’t want to hear alone in the dark. He challenges you locked-groove style, yet getting up to correct it is part of the process, and no one ever said it was going to be easy. Panicsville, Einstürzende Neubauten, Japanese noise, and a gaggle of trains that run all night and eventually crash into your room, making stumps of your furry little legs. Fuck you.
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