Liz Allbee’s side of this magical LP, Strategies for Failure, to me rings closest to Edward Ka-Spel’s mellower solo material, when he’s letting a bass throb ride out as he spells out his talking points (often actually talking them). But that’s only the beginning. We’re jolted from our narcotized jaunt by a blast of noise so pure and jagged it leaves tracks, then we’re treated to a minimalistic expanse of what sounds like cornet (she invents instruments so my guesses are just that), piano, and the sands of time pouring through a skull-shaped hourglass. Or at least that’s how I like to imagine it. It’s the contrast between Allbee’s many moods — from jazz-den to improv to flat-out dronnoise — that jumps out at you like a 3D jump-kick; that and the tender touch of the xylophone and disorienting, electro-acoustic-y bobble of the electronix. Hans Grüsel exhibits a keen interest in bassery as well, dipping into the low end of the pool as the cold waters wash over slowly but violently to form the crust/crux of Zuckerkrieg. Once he gets rolling you’d be hard-pressed to find an underground musician with a firmer hold on the dark-yet-dreamy side of post-noise, his compositions churning up the earth beneath them viciously even when only wind and other trace elements are telling the story. You’d never think the creek of a cellar door could get creepier than when you first hear it in real life, but try listening to it over and over again, like some sick fucker is doing it just to yank yr crank. Those who ensure that every Emego release sells out should be ashamed of themselves for not snatching Strategies For Failure / Zuckerkrieg up by now. I’m truly smitten, if you must know, and at 250 copies it’s high time you OH YOU GET THE POINT, SHIT; STOP BEING CHEAP AND BUY MORE RECORDS BEFORE THEY GO AWAY.
More about: Liz Allbee / Hans Grüsel