Showing posts with label body hammer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label body hammer. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

G&P Review: Body Hammer

Body Hammer
II: The Mechanism of Night
The Path Less Traveled

Books and films revel in trilogies because the story follows the accustomed three-act structure. The first stage introduces the characters and sets them on the road to the second act in which they confront the antagonists and finally the resolution where all of the narrative threads are brought to a close. The second act will likely feature some of the best drama and action as the protagonist grapples with seemingly unbeatable odds, but by the same token it also can be the most unsatisfying phase of a story because there’s no resolution. That’s why the ending of The Empire Strikes Back sucks so much (that’s right I said it; it needed to be said).
Music is not particularly strong on narrative so these topics don’t come up often, but it makes a handy conceptual framework for appreciating Body Hammer’s second album, II: The Mechanism of Night, after one-man nightmare master Ryan Page revealed it’s the second installment in a planned trilogy based on Dante’s Divine Comedy. Prior album, Jigoku, Virgiled us through hell as the songs were slowly eviscerated from electronic grind nightmares to free form, more abstract meditations on sin and punishment.



With The Mechanism of Night, the journey into purgatory is far more fitful and fraught. “The Iron Bough” sets the penitent tone from the outset with a flagellating wave of percussion, but unlike its predecessor, The Mechanism of Night gives play to full on grind catharsis. In fact the grind elements are sparse and widely spread out between tidal bashings of electronic waves of suffering and atonement. So that will be the first obstacle for the casual grind fiend looking for a quick blastbeat fix.
The second pitfall is inherent in the very nature of three-part story structure: the middle act is often the least satisfying entry on its own merits. But the nature of narrative, the second act ends with no resolution. Instead, our protagonists are usually left at the mercy of their foes, the promise of victory is still obscured by future obstacles. The Mechanism of Night has a similar shortcoming in that it works best when paired with its predecessor  – elements of “Body Blockade” and “Clawing at the Skin of God” nod back to themes and execution of Jigoku’s “The Bystander Effect.” The Mechanism of Night’s best elements are those that build toward tension but fail to release into catharsis such as the coven incantations of “A Presence” or the penultimate nihilistic hellscape “A Foregone Conclusion.” Where Jigoku’s primary musical tendency was from tightly wound chaos to bleeding out into noise, The Mechanism of Night is more sporadic and halting as it lurches from grind to noise.
 In the context of Dante’s controlling metaphor of a journey from Hell to Purgatory and ultimately up the mountain toward Paradise, it makes sense. But there’s probably a pretty good argument to be made that having to know all of that context in advance to enjoy a piece of music indicates a failure of execution, but once the connection is made the intention becomes clearer and the journey is rewarding, even if lacks resolution. To be continued.

[Full disclosure: I received a review copy.]

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Devil’s Horns: Exploring Grindcore’s Ongoing Fascination With the Saxophone

“And through this revolting graveyard of the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes from inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time; the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous ultimate gods—the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyarlathotep.”— H.P. Lovecraft, “Nyarlathotep”
It’s time we talk about grindcore’s dirty secret.
For 30 years—literally from the very first moment—grind musicians have been cheating on you with the must un-metal of instruments: the saxophone. (Yes, I know, literally, that's it made out of metal. You know what I mean, smart ass!)
Saxophone is that instrument your parents tried to foist on you when they misunderstood what exactly you meant when you told them you wanted to join a band. It’s probably not the instrument you picture yourself shredding on a stage in front of throngs of panty-throwing fans.

Ladies.
However, it’s probably got more of a grindcore pedigree than you’d credit it at first blush. Its reedy wail has been adding an extra frisson to the wonted arsenal of slashing guitars and thumping drums for decades. If nothing else, dabbling in odd instrumentation will probably get you street cred as a serious musician who’s not afraid to test barriers. Also expect lazy reviewers to drop the term “jazzy” a lot when describing your song.
“Any band with a saxophone that doesn't play ska will eventually be described as jazz,” Dead Neanderthals saxophonist Otto said. “I'm really not into traditional jazz but love free jazz. Maybe we're a little jazz in that sense.”
Saxophone grind is still a bit of a novelty, and I’m certainly not advocating making it a full time thing, but maybe it’s time we recognize it’s not as incongruous as it sounds at first blush.

Friday, December 14, 2012

At the Movies



"A child is influenced by the make believe," H.R. advised us on Bad Brains' "At the Movies." As any grown man in his mid-30s who considers his vintage Star Wars toy collection to be his retirement plan can aver, there's something about celluloid that sticks with you your whole life. That same kid smashing his Jedi and Sith action figures together after binging on a movie marathon will probably grow up to start a force-themed grindcore band (Sarlacc, I'm looking at you).
There's something about the power of movies that stick with us and influence our perception of the universe and our place in it. So it's no surprise to find out that movies and grindcore are inextricably intertwined whether it's Graf Orlock's stolen lyrics or everybody sampling the same five or six songs.
Some grinders take their love of film a step further, wearing their favorite movies on their sleeve so to speak. Here's to the bands that just straight up swiped their favorite films' names.

Horrified



Five fingering a movie name for your band is a tradition that is literally as old as grindcore itself. After Michigan's founding fathers of grind sensibly dropped the name Genocide, they went for the more subtle and more effective Repulsion. A pre-rape charge Roman Polanski broke down Catherine Deneuve in this 1965 psychological meltdown movie of the same name. Deneuve turned in a powerhouse performance as a repressed woman who completely cracks up over the course a single murderous afternoon. It's a film whose themes and body count had obvious appeal for the grindcore pioneers.

Paranoid Time



Grindcore has a fundamental distrust of governments and corporations and their unhealthy influence on wider society. Short-lived Michigan grinders (again with Michigan and stealing from movies!) The Parallax View were wont to scream about topics such as "Multi-National Death-Machines." So it's no surprise that the Warren Beaty film of the same name, about a shady corporation that specializes in political assassinations, resonated with their racket. Steeped in post-Watergate paranoia, the film was directed by Alan J. Pakula who also directed its real world counterpart All the President's Men.

I'm a Cyborg, But That's OK





Ryan Page is a man who loves his robots. He's gone to the cyborg well not once by twice with Robocop and Body Hammer. Both films deal with the nature of humanity as we stand on the cusp of a cybernetic evolutionary leap that may leave our biological shells redundant. Anybody who has sat down to ponder Page's Ballardian lyrical view knows those are themes right in his philosophical wheelhouse. But if he starts up a new project called Roy Batty, we may need to stage an intervention.

Adam and Eve and Eve and Eve



A film about a woman with multiple personality disorder seems like it would be a natural fit for the blastbeat treatment so it was a bit surprising that it was still sitting around unclaimed until Virginia band Three Faces of Eve, who many of you many know from the second This Comp Kills Fascists comp,  snapped it up. Psychological disorders and frantic screaming just seem to make a perfect pairing.

SPF 100



Burnt by the Sun stole the name for a movie that was just as arty and angular as they were. The story follows a Soviet officer and war hero who gets caught up in a Stalinist purge.  Everything he thought he knew about his country and his place in it come crashing around him over the course of a single summer day. Burnt by the Sun were a band steeped in humanist politics and the Oscar winning film pairs perfectly with those themes. It's a great example of a band's aesthetic and their inspiration coiling synergistically, creating a shared space between them.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Minute Men

If you haven't availed yourself already, Blastbeat Mailmurder Records (aka Panos Agoros of Dephosphorus fame) is up with the first volume of the Monomaniac 7-inch series. The concept is Panos rounded up a handful of kickass bands and gave them one minute each to do what thou wilt. Volume one features forehead crushing contributions from 10 bangers including Cloud Rat, Sete Star Sept, Detroit, Body Hammer, Head Cleaner and three(!!!)  contributions from Australian dervishes thedowngoing in 60 seconds or less.
Panos has done a fabulous job putting this package together and I'm already drooling at the thought of volume two. I played a small role hooking Panos up with a few of the participants, so I won't be giving it a full review (but seriously, it kicks all kinds of ass). However, I just wanted to shove this one under your noses  if you haven't checked it out already. The 7-inch is gorgeously done, but you can also check it out as a pay-what-you-want download at Blastbeat Mailmurder's Bandcamp page. Do yourself a favor and give this one a listen.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Evolved as One: When Grinders Go it Alone

In a nation of nearly 5 million souls, it's mathematically unlikely that Papirmollen is the only grind fiend calling Norway home, but you wouldn't guess that from his music. The Parlamentarisk Sodomi/PSUDOKU multi-instrumentalist prefers to operate solo. Think of it as a form of quality control.
"Bands with more than one person can have a bigger chance of low-quality results because of mass suggestion,  misunderstandings and contagious diseases," he said. "The members make each other believe they are creating beautiful  masterpieces when it truly is godforsaken stupid vomit music. When you're alone, you have a unique awareness of the  fact that roughly everything you make is tragic, unlistenable, no-quality shit, forevermore. You dislike most of your music so much that you wouldn't even play it to your worst enemy or their friends and loved ones, or anyone else. The  rest of the music you release."
The popular conception of the one man band probably involves some tortured black metal misanthrope whose Nietzschean soul shrivels at the thought of contact with the untermenschen. But the last decade has seen a boom in solo grind projects. Driven by necessity, aided by technology and pursing a single-minded musical focus, solo musicians are holding their own with full bands and pushing grindcore further into the uncharted edges of the map. Along with Papirmollen's outfits, Gigantic Brain, Body Hammer, Standing on a Floor of Bodies, Jesus of Nazareth, Liberteer, Exploding Meth Lab and Wadge have all filtered grindcore through one man's idiosyncratic vision.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Grindcore Bracketology 2: The 1-8 Matchups

Ok, you bitched, you moaned, you cajoled, you wheedled and you whined. The end result is a stronger faceoff structure. So now it's time to drop the gloves.
Just like the last outing, I'll post the matchups each week and you tell me who should win and, just as importantly, why. In the event of a tie or a really close decision or just because I'm a total dick and I feel like pissing in your eye, a well reasoned argument can carry the day.

So let's get down to it. You've got until Sunday to make your case.

The Old Guard
1. Olivo/Freeman (Repulsion) v. 8. Dickinson (Heresy/Unseen Terror)
Michigan grave robbers v. an English hardcore hooligan.

The Innovators
1. Procopio/Baglino (Human Remains) v. 8. Kapo (Swarrrm)
Unsung American innovators v. an artistic Japanese oddball. If Kapo loses, Perpetual Strife just might cry.

The Punks
1. Burda/McLachlan (Phobia) v. 8. Martinez (Cretin)
The premier punk duo v. the mistress of the grotesque.

The Technicians
1. Matsubara (GridLink/Mortalized/Hayaino Daisuki) v. 8. Page (Body Hammer/Robocop)
If Matsubara didn't exist, Studio Ghibli would have had to animate him. Page can make music out of toothbrushes and an electric fans. He's also a kick ass young guitarist.

Friday, December 16, 2011

You Grind...But Why?: Ryan Page

Ryan Page is one of the most exciting of the young guns slinging a guitar (or sometimes an electric toothbrush or bedframe) these days. Whether it's marrying Italian horror soundtracks with faulty electronics and grindcore in Body Hammer or revitalizing power violence for the 21st Century in Robocop, Page is consistently several steps ahead of his peers. He's been so successful (musically if not necessarily financially) because his compositions are carefully considered. Grind and power violence are no lark for him, and he approaches his music as would any other serious composer. Even if his methods are...unconventional.

"I've been trying to think of an answer that's a bit more personal than 'I've always been into extremes and grindcore is the most extreme blah blah blah,' unfortunately I think that's ultimately pretty close to what I was thinking at the time. Drone and grind are the spaces where tempo, perceptually and conceptually, begins to fall apart. There's a quote from Stockhausen somewhere about the point at which rhythm ceases to be perceived as such. Essentially the idea is that if a rhythm is slow enough (the sun coming up everyday for example) it loses its rhythmic character and becomes something more systemic, similarly extremely fast rhythms essentially become tonal, or in the case of Body Hammer, a noise band. Anyway, at the time I was interested in the barriers for speed and the fastest possible music, and eventually I wanted to take things further, beyond what Agoraphobic Nosebleed was doing, which was my benchmark for grindcore at the time (and to a certain extent it still is). This was around age 15 or 16. I was playing in a hardcore/grind band, and becoming somewhat frustrated with the limitations of that.
"I guess the other element of the narrative is that I also developed an interest in noise; an interest that only grew when my bandmates protested ('that's stupid, you can't have a separate track just for feedback,' 'it needs to become a song eventually'). Interestingly, the sound I hoped to achieve with this band was a lot like how Robocop II ended up. So out of the frustrations of feeling limited by playing with other people, I started the recordings that became Jigoku.
"Many of the songs on that album came from improvisations, using microphone feedback or prepared guitar. I was interested in using limited means (guitars, microphones, and drum machines, no synthesizers) to create a fairly broad sound. I wanted to remove myself from music as much as possible. I would detune my guitars to the point where they were no longer producing pitch, and use a wrench I found like a bow (and arrow, although sometimes in the musical sense as well) or create rhythms by hitting my pickups. On one track I used a giant reverb on the a recording I made of scraping on a bedframe."

Monday, September 26, 2011

Words From the Exit Wound

Andrew at 17 (perhaps facetiously): Pffft. Lyrics are sooooooo overrated.

Andrew at 33 (perhaps despairingly): Sweet Christ, these lyrics are just sooooooo awful.

The cookie monster vocal was the greatest thing to happen to metal, hardcore and grind because (let’s all be honest) most metal lyrics are absolutely terrible. They're full of pathetic posturing and insincere braggadocio. It’s often better not to know what they’re screaming at you. Metal and grind have become a tired mish-mash of completely interchangeable pablum, recycling a miserly handful of topics – religion, politics, horror flicks, gore, hatred – that have been denuded of any meaning by 25 years of repetition. Those topics, enjoyable in their own right if done well, can be frustrating because there’s no emotional honesty involved. Listeners are held at emotional arm’s length by safe and conventional abstract topics. There’s no vulnerability and no risk involved. It bothers me because I find the older I get, the less tolerant I am of shitty, moronic lyrics. So that must mean lyricists are getting worse because clearly I’m exactly the same person that I was at 17, right? I’m left craving someone who has something fresh and honest to say.

And I know exactly what you’re going to say next: But, Andrew, you’ll say, it’s only mindless entertainment. Stop being such a picky, arty farty douchenozzle.

That’s the same defense I hear on film blogs when somebody points out Michael Bay is not fit to direct a kindergarten Christmas play. But entertaining doesn’t have to mean vapid. If you’ll indulge me as I turn to my muse, Roger Ebert, one more time, I was reminded of something he said in a tribute to Pulp Fiction.
“Watching many movies, I realize that all of the dialogue is entirely devoted to explaining or furthering the plot, and no joy is taken in the style of language and idiom for its own sake,” he said. “There is not a single line in Pearl Harbor you would want to quote with anything but derision. Most conversations in most movies are deadly boring—which is why directors with no gift for dialogue depend so heavily on action and special effects.”
Too many times grindcore lyrics are the equivalent of Pearl Harbor’s dialog. The blastbeats and riffs become the equivalent of Michael Bay’s explosions and jump cuts, pretty distractions from the central hollowness. There’s no reason grindcore lyricists can’t aspire to something better, more lasting, more insightful. I’m longing for musicians who can connect lyrically on an emotional level, lyricists who have something interesting to say about the human condition. I don’t want grind bands to start pretending they are Sartre or something, but I would like to hear more lyrics that at least have some depth and insight.
Too much of grind is outwardly focused: it’s really good at telling you what’s wrong with you and everyone else. It’s never been so good at self examination or vulnerability. So when you find lyricists who are willing to tackle the spectrum of human emotions – and in less than 90 seconds! – it’s worth taking a moment to praise them.

Domestic Power Violence
While I manage to enjoy recent Agoraphobic Nosebleed offerings for what they are, it does bother me that they seem to have bought into their own lyrical shtick. Instead of honestly capturing the dinginess and despair of contemporary existence, they’re too busy trying to shock and provoke for no other reason than to get a reaction (I call this “Seth Putnam Syndrome;” look for it in DSM-5). It’s doubly disappointing because I know how clinically incisive ANb’s various component parts can be. Take one of my personal favorites, “Blind Hatred Finds a Tit” from early touchstone Frozen Corpse Stuffed With Dope. It’s a horrifyingly causal and – most disturbingly – accurate vacation in the skull of an abuser. While J. Randall’s lyrics eventually become more “J. Randally” with digressions into toddler abortions and the like, the opening two lines are the most chilling snapshot of an unthinkingly brutal psyche:
“You let me hit you, so I won’t touch the children/ So how hard do I have to fuckin’ beat you to have a crack at the kids?”

Roses are Red, Hyperviolets are Blue
Prowler in the Yard is not only one of the two greatest breakup letters ever set to music (Jane Doe being the other, natch), but Pig Destroyer open it with what might be best first line in grind history: “Semen tastes like gunmetal, she said smiling.” (Wait, what?) I can’t tell you the hours I’ve spend pondering the first line of “Cheerleader Corpses,” but it’s later in the album, “Hyperviolet,” where you get a sense of why J.R. Hayes may have taken the split so hard. The song is a loving (relatively speaking, this is Pig Destroyer after all) ode to a special lady friend. Though the accustomed menace lurks in the lyrics, Hayes also manages to conjure up a striking tenderness:
“Traced in wet sand her name in perfect cursive/ a love letter to the crescent moon/ by tomorrow it will be gone, I told her/ there is no tomorrow, she said/ I can feel her in a bikini of coiled snakes dancing to the hiss of the wind/ postcards from a paradise in flames/ she used to be so right/ so right about everything.”

Nutless WonderAs with J.R. Hayes, Discordance Axis’ Jon Chang was able to convert interpersonal failures into penetrating, incisive art. Though it’s shrouded in layers of metaphor and striking visuals, Chang’s “Castration Rite” was a purgative self-flagellation that set the tone for the remainder of The Inalienable Dreamless. It manages to blend self-mutilation with nods to both William Faulkner and the Bible in way that stands as both honest and individual. Maybe we shouldn’t let Chang handle sharp objects for a while:
“An axis in motion distributing ran/ Into the poverty of my ego/ Distortion screaming streaming sending/ Eurhythmic continuity skips no double taps/ Split open my chest and cut out my lungs/ Sew me back up just the same/ A stigmata a mutilation/ Your blood dies with me I can’t help but laugh/ I can’t help/Help but laugh/As I take/ Knife in hand/ And castrate my fucking self/ Would god I could die for thee/ O Absalom my son”

FAIL
From the outset, Richard Johnson has grounded Drugs of Faith in concrete realities. That’s never so apparent as on “Never Fail,” leadoff tune from the band’s eponymous debut EP. In yet another tale about a failed relationship (I’m starting to question grinder’s social skills), Johnson performs an impressive bit of lyrical legerdemain by positing it from the perspective of the guilt wracked rejecter rather than, as is more typical, the miserable rejectee. It’s not you, it’s me, but it hurts just the same:
“I remain under the covers forever reliving the curse of that elusive outcome which inside I cherish so much/ I’m the one with whom you haven’t a chance/ I have to respect my feelings/ And at the end of the night I return to my bed alone/ At the end of the night I’ll return to my bed alone.”

That’s Not a Knife; This is a Knife
Taking the Silent Hill games as a controlling metaphor, Body Hammer’s Ryan Page penned an impressive ode to isolation and despair on Jigoku’s midpoint song “Greatknife.” A deft blend of arresting imagery wrapped in oblique metaphors, Page manages to mimic the deceptive mix of brevity and simplicity that undergirds the haiku tradition (complete with a leftfield lyrical twist at the end). In just a few words he so evocatively conjures emotions out of listeners:
“Running through the darkness/ girls are pretty colorful/ one room leads to more of the same/ if I traced my footsteps you could/ follow my eyes/ a rusty iron gate shuts”

Monday, March 15, 2010

The Body Electric: Grindcore Gets Down With the Sound of White Noise


Like so many other grindcore tales, this begins with Napalm Death.
Specifically, it beings with “Harmony Corruption.” The song not the album. Not appearing on the album of the same name, “Harmony Corruption” is a twitchy, fried mixing board industrial chug with creepy crawly ambience that, let’s be honest, goes nowhere (they got better by Utopia Banished, honest). The closing track of a space-filler EP, most people probably just ignored the early hint of Napalm 3.0’s wider musical vistas and scratched the needle back to hear “Pride Assassin” or “Mass Appeal Madness” one more time. [Ed's note: Richard Johnson helpfully pointed out I got my discography confuzzled. "Harmony Corruption" the song appeared on the Harmony Corruption 12". Oops. The details were wrong but the substance still stands]
But that three minute bit of ambient filler presaged grind’s eventual, inevitable evolution as life got downloaded as ones and zeros and began being lived on a 13-inch screen at your local Starbucks.
You would think grindcore – the ultra-primitive bastard of hardcore punk (there, I said it) with its stubbornly simple aesthetic – would be antipodal to the cerebral, emotionless cyber-shocks of electronic music. I’m just saying I never saw a grind dude proudly sporting a keytar on stage back when I was able to make the round of shows.
But in the pursuit of extremity, the enemy of my enemy is my future collaborator and grindcore has been bedding down in an unholy alliance with electronics, birthing a raving, twitching, jabbering cacodaemon of digital proportions in the process.

I Sing the Body electric;

“Grindcore was supposed to be the end of music right?” Ryan Page, aka Body Hammer, said. “But something about the shift from tonal music to noise caused the music to sound harsher. I think it has a lot to do with how humans interpret spectral complexity.”
Jake Cregger, whose electrogrind business card reads Jesus of Nazareth, found tape loops and FX box abuse were the natural next step for a drummer with boundless musical vision but lacking the requisite skills to accomplish that using more traditional instrumentation. And grindcore’s atavism just made it a natural launch pad for those experiments, he said.
“For me (snob alert!!) grindcore in its primal stages is just human energy being released through whatever instruments are available just like rock n roll, but just a bit farther down the spectrum from AC/DC,” he said. “After a certain point it’s just raw energy and that's where grindcore lies. It's right next to the limits of jazz, and all sorts of music I am probably not even aware of. Once you're dealing with just energy in that way any shift can send it into a whole new direction. So adding electronic elements made sense to me and it took it a step in a new direction for me. It’s all just trying to cultivate or harness that energy in some way, with various tools. Hence, if you take that energy and force it through something else I think you can still make a grind record.”

The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them;

Paleomusicologists a century from now looking to document Patient Zero of the electrogrind outbreak need scour no further than Agoraphobic Nosebleed. The hydra-headed, ever shifting Massachusetts by way of Northern Virginia digital devils were among the – if not the – first to fully marry grindcore and electronics on a full time basis, cooking up a murderous stew of redonkulous zillion-bpm songs that barely eclipsed “You Suffer’s” miniscule run time.
“Agoraphobic Nosebleed has gone through lots of changes in the area of its relationship with electronics and drum machines,” drum machine pioneer and ANb fifth columnist Richard Johnson said. “With albums like Frozen Corpse Stuffed With Dope and Altered States of America, we had lots of noise passages and some ‘blipcore’ songs—I even sang on a blipcore version of ‘Practice What You Preach’ by Testament that may or may not see the light of day—and we still have some noise here and there, like on the split with The Endless Blockade. But the main thing that's changed is how advanced the drum machine work has become. In a way, the drum machine sound used to be industrial, the way it was so cold and unwieldy. But Drumkit From Hell has made things sound so much more natural and must be affecting the songwriting. The complexity of the drum programming has gone into outer space.”
Cole, one of the organic components to the Voltronic armada that is Origami Swan, said the hybrid set up allowed the Canadian collective to craft something “far more intense, absurd, and over the top than we could ever do with a conventional set up.”
“There honestly wasn't a lot of thought to it,” he said. “It sort of just came into being on its own. The band was started as a noise project in nature from the beginning and due to a mutual love of blastbeats, grind was incorporated into that. It seemed natural and logical to us. The sound was also born out of a desire to create an insane musical project that was still musically listenable, rather than straight harsh noise like artists such as Merzbow create, we wanted the music to retain elements of rhythm and listen-ability whilst bordering on noise.”

They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,

Grindcore five fingering power electronics is not a one way street, either. White noise war criminals looking to beef up their – already considerable – extremity credentials are not adverse to pillaging grindcore’s notion of shatter musical strictures.
Winters in Osaka may not blip too many grindcore radars, but the Chicago outfit’s list of collaborators skims the cream of the recent grind and power violence scene, roping in members of Brutal Truth, Exit-13, Spazz, the Endless Blockade and Iron Lung to craft and control their static-swamped noise soup. Turns out grindcore has always been the secret ingredient, said founding member Adam Jennings, who can also be spotted bringing the “New Wave of American Mincecore” (his nomenclature, not mine) in Paucities.
“We just live for music, but personally, I listen to mostly grind and power violence,” Jennings said. “For me, there’s a timeless sort of magic in those records. The sludge and noise and politics of Man is the Bastard, the weirdo tape loops and hidden voices found in GASP records, and the sick hip hop samples and million time changes in No Le$. It never ceases to amaze me. Slap a Ham is by far my favorite label. I even have the logo tattooed on my stomach. The power violence scene has also given me a ‘plug in, don’t be a fucking egotistical rockstar, have fun, but also have something interesting to say and please leave all macho attitudes at the door’ approach.”
Power violence, grind’s still punkier kissing cousin, never had the same antipathy toward transhumant electric augmentation. For all their rejection of the ills of modern society, Man is the Bastard where twiddling the knobs of extremity long before evolving into the white noise monstrosity Bastard Noise.
While it may have taken a decade, that attitude is starting to percolate up through grindcore, and many electrogrind practitioners point to their power violence progenitors as inspiration.
“A lot of the old power violence records with sound clips on them also left a huge impact on me,” Cregger said. “Dystopia used to use sound clips constantly. I think that taught me that the content of the clips really lent themselves to the demeanor for the music as a whole. Some of those songs would do very little for me without the additional samples. I took hefty nods from that example and began to really love the synergy between how non musical samples blended with music. To compare it to something visual, in some way they create interesting negative spaces within the music that really add a tremendous amount of character to an image.”

And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul.

If you think electrogrind is nothing more than disregarding the safety warnings on a drum machine while running the noise you concocted on your Casio keyboard through your laptop, Page would like to have some polysyllabic words with you. You see, Body Hammer’s Jigoku was meticulously pieced together over a period of three years and the college student brought a sound philosophical and musicological imperative to his music.
“I'm not sure of it's superficial or not, but in many cases indeterminacy has worked it's way into the way I created a track,” he said. "I'll generally set tonal parameters, and I guess in that way I score it, and improvise on a track within those parameters. Usually one track doesn't sound great, but five or six tracks in each channel can build up stochastically to achieve the particular kind of atonal ambiance I want.”
Page cites Agoraphobic Nosebleed’s Frozen Corpse Stuffed With Dope as one of the pivots that sent him skittering along electrogrind’s circuit patterned maze.
“I've had a chance to talk to Richard Johnson about it recently, and I think he's starting to see how influential that record was. What I tried to do was apply some of that in a darker direction,” Page said.
Grindfather Johnson knows a thing or two about mixing up his grindcore with his electronics as an early pioneer of the drum machine first with Enemy Soil and later Agoraphobic Nosebleed. He’s also keenly aware of the pitfalls that can come when you slide too far into cyberspace and lose that essential human element.
“I think working with a machine, meaning basically a metronome going 120 bpm, helped with my sense of timing a lot, but I still have a hardcore, jangly picking style, so I'm told,” Johnson said. “What's depressing is how technology is removing the human element out of drummers, though. If you trigger your drums—so more than just having complete control in mixing them, you don't have to hit them with any sort of conviction—and clean them up in ProTools, and quantize them, or line them up with a grid so the timing is perfect, then what's the point of playing them in the first place? That's why Mick Harris is one of the best drummers ever, although he'd be the last one to admit it, I guess. He's also so innovative because of his work with mixing up his drumming and drum machines in songs on early Scorn records. That's an interesting way of doing things.”
See? It all goes back to Napalm Death.

Bring the Noise: A Crash Course in Electrogrind

Like a chocolate covered cadmium Witman’s sampler, consume at your own risk. Side effects may include cerebral hemorrhages, pissed off neighbors/roommates/spouses, expanded musical horizons and exorbitant Radio Shack bills as you attempt to recreate the sounds contained with in.
You’ve been warned.

1. Winters in Osaka – “Flowers in the Bodies”
2. Body Hammer – “Digital Direct Drive”
3. The Endless Blockade – “Perfection”
4. Exploding Meth Lab – “Exploding Meth Lab Soup Kitchen”
5. Napalm Death – “Harmony Corruption”
6. Gigantic Brain – “Dehumanize (Ninja Gaiden NES cover)”
7. Origami Swan – “Castigating Leukemia”
8. Jesus of Nazareth – “The Shame of Being a Child Track 11
9. Agoraphobic Nosebleed – “5 Band Genetic Equalizer 2”
10. Man is the Bastard – “Steak Eating Boss”
11. Discordance Axis with Merzbow – “Alzheimer (Live)”

Friday, March 12, 2010

300th Post Crap-taca-ganza!

This is madness. No, this is GRINDCORE!In the last 2.5 years I’ve pooped out 300 posts now. At an average of 300 words per album post, give or take, and with a bunch of longer think pieces and interviews that means I’ve probably sent about 100,000 words skittering off in the digital ether. That’s the size of a fairly respectable paperback. Take a moment to ponder the absurdity of a novel length discussion of grindcore. So in honor of all this ridiculous persiflage, there seemed to be only one sensible way to reflect: with the world’s most retardedly short grindcore compilation.
Enjoy.
*Link has been corrected to appropriate zip file*

1. Brutal Truth – “Collateral Damage”
2. Discordance Axis – “Dystopia Pt. 2”
3. Body Hammer – “The Principles and Practices of Nihilism”
4. S.O.B. - "S.O.B."
5. Agoraphobic Nosebleed – “Fuck Your Soccer Jesus”
6. Nasum – “Disforest”
7. Napalm Death – “You Suffer”
8. Rehumanize – “Rough”
9. Retaliation – “Distrust”
10. My Minds Mine – “Why Don’t You Just Fuck Off?”
11. Anal Cunt – “Newest HC Song #2”
12. Gore Beyond Necropsy – “Shitgobbling Hate Generation”

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

G&P Review: Body Hammer

Body Hammer
Jigoku
The Path Less Traveled
A DVD package. Striking blue-tinged art. Exotic fonts. Lyrical themes five-fingered from the cream of bizarre Japanese horror films.
Any of this starting to sound at all familiar?
But the packaging, as with every other aspect of Body Hammer is deceptive. Instead of a Jason Voorhees-style shrine to Jon Chang’s shriveled, severed cocoanut, Body Hammer arc welds one man electro grind experimentation to fx box abuse with the kind of hellbound vocals Alan Dubin hears in his more pants-shitting night terrors. Relevant touchstones would include Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Khanate, Merzbow and the almighty Godflesh
Jigoku, meticulously crafted over three years by student Ryan Page, is an album with a definite entropic direction. It steadily moves from its anchor in electroshocked grindcore to a rootless heat death by smothering, abstract electronics, buried under waves of collapsing sound. Decaying as the tempos slow, percussion erodes leaving only Page’s digital demons to run loose in the crossed circuitry of his burned out id. Balanced on the precipice between the relative grindcore order and white noise chaos, the blast to blaze tune “It’s Not Even Human, Shove it Back in” is the very heart of Jigoku’s synergistic contradictions.

Body Hammer – “It’s Not Even Human, Shove it Back in”

Jigoku is twitchy, convulsive and increasingly paranoid as it builds layer after layer of discomfort. “The Bystander Effect,” “Blue Eyed Assassin” and “The Principles and Practices of Nihilism” (2 second grind filtered through Page’s laptop deconstructor) are all comfortably anchored in grindcore. But that paranoia starts gnawing its way through your psychic defenses early on. “Digital Direct Drive” is a purgatory storm of barely heard croaking always just over your shoulder and malevolent electronic detritus.
For sure this is not going to be album for everyone. However, for someone so young, Page has married both an impressive musical focus to legitimately engrossing artistic conceits to unleash an unsettling foray through the decaying mounds of castoffs that capstone our planned obsolescence society.

[Full disclosure: Body Hammer sent me a review copy.]