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Merzbow, Space Mix Travelling Band
I love "Travelling 1997" because it has Merzbow wah-wah pedal action, so there's this near-human quality to the metallic groaning and whining. The Predator speaks. (They made a sequel? My anti-Hollywood mind boggles at the redundancy.)
I'm listening to this on my headphones for the first time in a long time, and it's oddly...uncomfortable. Not because the inhrent painfulness of the Merzsound, but removing those sounds from my apartment (nice ROCK bassy synth sounds there) -- and placing them in the virtual soundspace of somewhere between my ears -- seems to emphasize the weird unreality of what Masami Akita is trying to do. It feels more like an aestheticized and detached art project thing this way. Why?
Another distorted guitar loop comes up (though it might actually be something played "live"), and the synths bubble and hisssss, and I think: Steve Miller. This is not meant as an insult. It's that this track feels like a classic rock track, any classic rock track, only with the implied anarchy of certain aspects of the sound multiplied to unheard-of levels.
Arrrgh. Had to shut my window. Somebody's smoking outside and it's pissing off my sinuses. I seem to have a minor cold. You know, when I'm interrupted like that; I put the music on pause; when I give up trying to say something about a track, I still listen to the whole track anyway. I still want to be able to say: "Yeah, I listened to the whole damn thing. What of it?" I cannot abide by cheating.
"Floating Manhattan," a title near and dear to my heart. And the track sounds like the title. Wow. I do not think I am ready for this. It is significantly louder and denser than the last track. Or at least it implies very loud things. The track sounds like it should make the windows vibrate. When I was a kid, my brothers both were fond of very very loud music. Tommy was in a band that practiced in the basement, and Bobby had two turntables and a microphone in the room next door to mine. They would rattle windows. And this sounds like that, it sounds like superloud rocknoise fucking with the resonant frequencies of a suburban house. It evokes an enormity I can barely comprehend -- which is to say it is sublime. Oh, and he completely psyches me out with a moment of near-silence (it sounds like Buddhist mooing) at about the five minute mark. And after that, it gets even more excruciating still, with guitar-firework-feedback screeching and squelchpulses and hollow echoing howls. And it changes direction. A few shouts, presumably by MA himself. Sample noise. A little quieter, as if MA is trying to concentrate on individual details of the hellish skree he just produced. It ends with phantom electronic flares dubbing out into nothing.
"Hongkong Suite": only the best for Masami Akita. Ha ha. No, it's the name of some pop music standard, I think. Oh god, not the metal-on-metal crashing AGAIN! Oh no, wait, it's uh...uh...some bit of kitsch orchestral nonsense, and then a harsh loop. OK, familiar territory, I suppose. Guitar has epilectic fit while fluffy pink cherry blossom pop sometimes sashays by. Well, that's only a small part of it. I guess "Floating Manhattan" plum wore me out. MA had me and I just lost it. Or maybe it's because the last one had "Manhattan" and this one has "Hongkong" in their titles, and since I live in Manhttan it's just easier for me to impose all sorts of fantasies on the former track than the latter.
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