Nothing you say or do will stop him. Providence/Nashville-based “noise” and “techno” brutalizer Ren Schofield has weaponized his tape deck, delay pedals, and Roland MC909, and is on his way to destroy your brain right now as you read this. Let him through your front door. I do not recommend that you resist. The smoother his transition into your life, the smoother the liquified remains of your frontal and parietal lobes.
Container slams an old VHS tape into the center of your plasma screen. Through his sheer willpower, the TV accepts the tape. Nothing can prepare you for the playback. You think that your eyes glimpse factories, wheelchairs, escalators, computer screens, people fucking. As static overtakes the feed, static overtakes the beat. Three minutes and fifty-three seconds into the video, all of the electronics in your home set on fire. No regrets. You don’t know what to believe any more. Container walks out.
Adhesive is Container’s 12-inch release on Mute’s sub-label Liberation Technologies. Though your turntable has been reduced to embers, you buy the record. You make daily excuses to visit the homes of friends and family members with turntables, and you bring Adhesive with you. You stream Container’s Boiler Room set on your phone during dinner with your parents. You write angry emails to John Elliott demanding that the next Container LP drop immediately. You give yourself F-O-R-M A-L-O-G stick-and-poke knuckle tats. You have become a fresh and new incarnation of your previously whatever self and you owe it all to Container.