Bonnie Banks Music Reviews

BONNIE BANKS REVIEWS

Whipping Star-Frank Herbert

This Frank Herbert fella wrote the book Dune which was a semi sleeper for me as it walked around this barren planet with some aristocracy stuff going on, got to try to read it again maybe I'm missing something? This other "WHIPPING STAR" is swell though. Frank's little obtuse and abstract words and concepts hobble around and die and later get picked up and slapped back to life when you are completely confused and he nonchalantly needs to explain the word/concept for the story's sake which works most of the time in this book. Imagine (children) in the distant future people can instantly travel anywhere so there are planets for swimming, hospital hatcheries, entire planets of libraries etc. relying on these wierd spheres who bend space to make it seem next door/through a door. Some old kooky dominatrix takes on any and many a sentinent being to torture (with a whip for starters) for entertainment and discovers she can torture one of these wierd spheres which house a formless mass that reacts to leather whips. She forms contracts with these sphere/mass things and one by one kills them off thru her one armed multi legged hate servants who enjoy beating the hell out of anything. It's so abstract in parts trying to talk to these sphere things since you have to be on some kinda drug to deal with them that it makes the book interesting, plus the idea of torturing a mass that's abstract makes me revel in the perversity. That's the beginning of the book folks, theres a fertile pile of concepts that go with each alien race introduced with the idea of if everyone was isolated to their own system what the hell would happen. The food and hospital supplies closed off from the rest of the worlds etc. The book is able to cover a lot of ground since the concept of bouncing around from system to system/world to world keeps it fresh and active. A 4 and a half hour read for me. Five Black Holes.

AGOG-
"FINAL MYTH OF THE JESUS UNDERWEAR"

This is an old world travelog that exists on the vehicle of the open radiowave. It takes us back to the bible times patterned after the Sumerian and during the mindmaximizing plagues where the apemen battled the 2 legged swamp. The first radio vehicle is established (30 seconds of building time) with life size egyptian pyramids of nuts and bolts holding the cart together with odd arabic wind chant/shutters and a few shortwave piano strings trailing off the back end dragging magnetic tape insects bonded with spoon timepieces that scoop out histories of the world, like scooping out ice cream, and serve it up in audio forwards-backwards form. Little piano like ghosty organs chorus compliment your tour of old Austria. Chimes of human ribs tickle the pain chorus as mysterious Austia reveals the neighbor Ghaus-traria where men drive jewel spear splinters under the toe nails to keep the hiss flame prison ping pong opera going from lack of sleep. Backwards, all the splinters out, to organ music. Slow operations begin on the splinters drive in again. Ghaus-traria is desolate near the borders, magnetic sand sits on miles of iron plating riveted with t shaped stone pebbles. Silence fights stray aorta borealis (a.b.) with its brass knuckle bell hands defending Vastria, the land of 100,000 hairs. This land of hairs are clusters of steel wool like tumbleweeds that Emperor Cloaca plays organ for as they roll through sloppy puddles picking up phone conversations from the future like antennae. (A.b.) throws some over tones into the land of the brute-fester snowflakes: Castria. These flakes with watertube boots play horrible humming birds whose beaks, rubbed together, create grating chalkboard scratches. They are also useful as record needles, and the multi armed flakes winding up the national Castrian Victrola skip the birds across the top of the latest lp on the turntable "Destroy the Great Creation, Silence All the Wind". A local band drops off a cylinder recording of the new Castrian National Anthem that icludes "band talk" and foreboding notes. They are pointed to the border of Krupostea, the land of the broken sewere and the Butchering Browledders who carry clay wooshing wind chickens with wooden cellolegs, spitting old blood in the chicken mouthpieces, musical instruments for the Krupostean masses. The Butcher clan baffles the neighbors in Rodoosia who use wood wind chickens dangling firecracker 'snake' legs as their national anthem/pet. Fires erupt between the borders on the neck of a metal guitar built for (ice cream like) time scooping, a shared national treasure. With things at status quo again, the pylon guru Buchladder flays his meaty harmonium, turns on the tv stomach and unfolds his baby feet and tongue to destroy a guitar with pathetic gestures. A peacemaker who calms borders with educational pathos. Echoing metal books are thrown at him. He drags his harmonium underground to tunnel it back to his home pylon Golusatya. The Golusatyan pipe police play blow darts and reinnasance music from 10 B.C. their long law pipes. Welcome home tolerated stupid guru from stupid land. Buchladders garden (in a toilet bowl) ends the tape with an environmental scene: a bird poops and tweets.

The Bran(...) Pos-Amantis Incongrue
6/2/00 11:46 pm
Ive been putting it off for a while, but have to talk about this amazing new thing Bran/Pos put together. This one man band puts together little masterpieces continuously and live shows are him squatting over his effects and keyboard grunting aquiriums and measuring planets with atom clock runner molds. So this 'Amatis Incongrue'is some nice soundtrack put together for some play thingy The Bran hooks up with. Damnit its a handful. It starts with an overview of Planet of the Seethru Women Skeletons with their guts tapping little l.e.d. lights, and molecules moving off the planet in little ships morphing into boom clouds and some dripping back to the ground. Big overview. Next is some bird nest of techtronic calculators jabbing each other with popsicle beaks and killing each other until there is one big vulture left bragging in the calcu-talk squak. The furnaces are lit with a button and sore covered duck squid combo with steel wool feathers in lighter fluid is popped in. It throws around some more saucy squack with a scissor clip tendril show off at the middle of the 3rd piece. Reduced the mess to abrasive gas bass-snare drums, pumpapump. Circus of the Colored Death Gas! Put on your gas masks and twitch in faux death throes! Wow. Ending in Pie-Pie the Lemonshite Clown getting her members cut off by a radium powered pc stutter, click.clunk. Next is Koala, the one love-fuzzy thing that the beautiful skeleton women find and hug and it tears the gals to pieces. Clear Blood on furry arms. Oh so loving! That horrible breath sound caused from old skin caught between dirty teeth. What a nice sound it makes like an ocean almost.... More unruly mayhem. Words: "wowow whoe" with a razor blade and oscillator trick from the beauty store of see through women. Words of encouragement. Garbogantua is the loop song straight from the heart of electronic history class. 2 types of beings tugged along in the cages made up of woven garbage guts: one a little screaming squirrel trying to form some human sounds and the other an ex-member of the throw-up band: PrizePurge who was thrown-out for using real words. This is a long piece so just take it in. The stinky fuck wanders around your speakers making a big poopy-loopy mess and you somehow feel good all over your speakers are just getting the ruddy treatment. An excruciatingly horrible death march ends the cd legitimately and proudly helping out with the gas circus using an oompa circus to promote tearing heads of young skeletons for synth nobs next year. This is a hell of a cd. Look for him at:http://www.angelfire.com/ca2/branpos

more /tape from Agog

AGOG-Dust is Their Food and Clay Their Meat

The Breathing Screw introduces the tape as it walks on a stiff slinky stage held together by microphone mesh and springs wrapped around a sipunculid worm with a forky flower head playing find the monster in the atom. The atom has a cement mixer hollywood square shouldered box head robot that runs the tv buzz found in some of the outer limits episodes. It points to the monster of the atom quishing and quashing on the tin foil rug playing with a beanie hat of the heads of Smegma (the band). A handful of lips are muttering on the umber downside of it's rotten with shit belly that has a few 78's covered in guts swinging around. It is playing a shell game that goes round and round with the checkerset in one of the shells. Rats are chewing the monster of the atom's sugar filled butt off. It's a full on nightmare. A needle chandelier being lowered by crane onto the plastic quitar hero: Styrofoam Snow, the atom next door where the sink is full of breathing screw brothers. They are all shitty plastic guitar players because they use copper teeth dentures and tiny fuck up trucks to substitute for sheet music. A little country music on the ravaged chewed up truck. Intermission. Tea cups with saws running around the insides of a wall ace wood panel, frail cloth swings out whisper hurricanes and drops mini steel gravestones on proceline barbers (scissors jabbing each others remember the time necks) lined up at the suicide tobaccotin. Aside from the assault of a familiar spinning turtable skip or 2 this cassette is inpenetrable, unidentified bizzare clink and tinks of a tiny world only accessable by ear. The Agog family6 portraits are available with every cassette: cassette cases with odd arms & legsstuck on barnacled sand covered palm sized junkyards. Beautiful little uglies.

Spagyric
19241 Kenya St.
Northridge CA 91326

clit 10 8 99 bonus cuts .....forgot to mention the mind mending duct tape helmets that connected the lowdowns together...it was stupid looking flat helmets that was during one of the keyboard solos that they all put on each other and the helmets were connected with curly phone cords, stupid stupid, funny as hellheck. The drummer is the only musician ive seen with one side of his body playing drums and the rest playing saxaphone, seriously fukt my friends. Arrest these atrocities to the senses and take them to patch pie jail. Speaking of atrocities, you cant get more newave than the Deb Foxxx Hamhoxxx side buttoned skull cap keyboardist bought from the pet shit boys and put in front of a frothing audience....

kimos 10 9 99
last night the Krob opened the show with a hyped up pre show banter to audience peoples, no one heard it hardly cuz he was talking to himself"Krob has to die at the hands of Captain Crummy:my other self, the good guy, the show will be a good vs. evil spotlight like the japanese hero shows , no middle ground, the worse may happen.....i dont know maybe i can play alley cat from ipenema or destroy the world we'll see....i do not know...."when he finally got up there on stage with the disco ball spinning he played all these wierd atmospheric (bordering on evil new age) stuff that was real tounge in cheek, he'd roll his eyes and change the electronic organ sound to lush strings or some kinda noise that would click over to syntho drums, like a bored kid watching tv changing channels. The self/fight didnt happen maybe cuz he played on all borrowed equipment, but i think when something was being played too sweet or too dark he'd smirk and roll the eyes, change the channel and off into another personality of sound. Music fanatics would be frustrated but the stabs he made at the pop easy listening / noise beast were ultimatly fun ny. Next was Skozey Fetisch, this guy started out in Utah doing wierd situations and then a Jupiter 6 synth band and then (last show) creepy accapella vaudeville scream choir 7piece/ of sound, and last night did a solo with tape deck and mixer starting off with a boogie violent onsen geisha type wash of sound followed by innovative tape spankies and followed by shoe in textures for presidensies. real sweet. his Zorro outfix was not as great as the waltz panda outfit but it was better than the 'im the coach, tweet' clothing he was usually wearing. the main deal is he delivered a big swollen banana slug sound to the eagerly hurt folx, nuff said.... Next was Lectric Man: theremin and some taped up efx that coupled with costume made a fobidden planet deli ripe for hearing. His 10 pound /7 eyed/ crested/meter tall head was a precarious balancing act =cont more

kimos 10 9 99 bonus crun

coupled with the stuffed tiny bear body feet and silver suit made of mirror set the shitty disco bar into the heart of the non disney pluto and awed everyone with the oscillatin' dream ghost of neptuna complete with hand gestures and bug eyed looks of multi love....this is good music to put animal/human beasts to sleep. yawnhoo!! Commode Minstrels in Bullface: ending the set with giant flash cards and music from 'THE PINS' A FREE RANGE ZOO/ plus some cover tunes including a shoot me im miserable version of Music to Watch Girls Go By witch was truly sad...costumes and simple antic, people clapped..

Kimos is a swell disco drag bar with a lit up stage ala sat nite fever, people smoke (assholes only) and the waitress is a guy with boobies. The music between the bands was metal and pleased the punkos and the proprieter but was torture for all my friends..This place pays better for non musical shows better than any other places in sf to my knowledge as you get allll door unless the booker takes a cut, fukya. You can look onto the street at the queens on speed while your knob twisters pollute your ears. And it has a curtain. if ya go you might get a discount if in drag, like wearing a niners jersey to a niners game, sorta silly but thats how it worx. Adelaide O'Clownner might show up and act like a fool too, who knows what she's talking about? no one knows, she runs around pissd off like Sinead OConner and mouths off getting thrown out usually..this time over a glass of water?? or something..she needs the clown nose& shoes for completeness, dont bother to follow the train of thought your in for some stalking if you do....

10 18 99 makeout in revue
Some yodeler started off that looked like the mother from the movie 'The Adjuster' (highly recommended, it's the director's wife who plays the mother) and then struck a few Joan Baez chords so i left. Came back for Toychestra. This is like an all girl Renaldo and the Loaf with maybe a little less dischordancy and no forced haha were so funny vocals. They started off with an accapella country travel tune (kitschy) and blew up with Autobahn which ripped in a tink and clink way ending in an auto wreck. The other hot parts were: slamming the toy piano on 'Hitchcock' ala Psycho shower scene, and the coolest deal Perez Prado's 'Patricia' reworked into a bunch of changes at a slower tempo. It's a real gas. The rest of the set was cute and pretty musical stabbing at the percussiony stuff from 'Fingerprince' and making everyone at that lame club smile. Aww theyre so cute. I wish (Im sure im the only one that thought this) it was more dischordant and gutsy with a few pots of boiling mud in front of the stage making burp sounds. They really want to be liked tho' and please the masses, so I dont think that will ever happen. Saw and absolute godlink of a movie:STATE OF WEIGHTLESSNESS its got 'Solaris' beat by about a coulple hrs and the shots outdo Kubriks 2001. The cosmonauts were up in space for a long fuckn time and the declassified space footage is amazing.! The soundtrack is real ethereal Dumitrescu type stuff and the interviews really bring up the direness and deparavity of space junking. Those guys got horny up there and were sent porn. It's all wrong. See it. See it.

10 17 99 in revue :Clit
So the Clitstop once again had the greatest clarinet guy in the oakland area Math Ingals bloot his toots and wheez and hoot with some other cat named goob (Morgan Guberman) slapping and stroking a big old bass with a bow. These guys faces turned red and sweaty and they really jazzed it out. yuh. The Math I. schtick was overpowered from the clarinet with a violin solo which could make a discoteque close from sheer contradiction followed by more pauses punctuations of sound by scwanko skroks. It warz cool jazz and the quiet audience appreciated every quiet part by sweating in harmony with the players. A highlight of the set was Burton Greene going into the toilet closing the door and then the lid of the toilet, mussing with the good (quiet for a moment) feather faries on stage. Next up was a cd by Conlin Nancarrow as a prelude to Burton Greene, a kooky piano guy from the 60s who promised 'bursts of crazy electronics' during his spot..There were a lot of older people in their 40s ready to love him to pieces.He sat down with much to do at the D-50 Roland sampler and started playing liberation music for

the Frog Liberation Organization or something
Semi familiar samples and later super familiar hand clap samples with keyboardy Art Zoyd as a one man band shot around the speakers doing absolutely nothing for me. I had to leave. Burt played with some other folks in some electronic ensembles that were mind blowing, but whe left to his own devices it's sorta normal free european prog samples. Outside on Howard street there were some brightlights. Another cool show! The sounds were drawing me to it and the lighting was stark, some buff dudes were digging a pit in the middle of the street, it sort of saved that portion of the evening, the sounds were spectacular served by brute strength getting the job done. Next was Henry Kaiser and the Spontaneous Music Ensemble tribute thing. It was sorta too pansy compared to what i just saw so i caught the bus home.

Therefore-'Khrom' cd
This is a little mixed bag of huwee. The little guys find cb radios at the entrance of the guano of white noise cave and fuzzing their way through the place they fall into the shit pit of white guano. There's a few critics in there using an automatic violent onsen geisha cattle brander with low end feedback tremel switch for the inner cell groove carving. The brander gets tiny 78 speed turbine going to start tattoo guns to make teen einsey lily mouthed tv sets playing water balloon squish over a playing field of can-do guitar compressed crochet kits. Crunch crunch feedhag bags wake up the church of compressed rock and munches it through a paper shredder. The paper is soaked into a vat of alchohol and Greygoil the Pin-up Pup Tent plays some shitty piano with his tent peg hand swigging like a river the pulped vat of mulch and swings one arm over the recording microphone fading in and out. Chinese opera gongs and crash cymbals click into put putting of the wipe ghouls who are wiping flanged cherub pubic hair off their see-through aqua lips. A slowed down close up of the stomach metabolism. Clear pinkie jackhammers smack at the cherub pubies as the bloated wipe ghouls start messing around with a crapped out oscillator. They are picking up two signals from the wipe ghouls of europe who have no lips, instead they communicate with doorbells and white noise. White noise mined from the foreheads of goldfish in an aquarium of sugar and piss swishy wilma bennet stickers all over the front. A floorboard is creaking, the wipe ghouls use this and a crappy distorted violin to make more do-do communications. The Rhythm Rascal joins in keeping beat with a Teenage Jesus riff he can barely teach to them and plods out some sos signal back to our national wipe ghouls who respond with a horn, 'we are listening we are here' that develops into self pity as the cherub hair party has taken its toll: cattle mutilation moos that are made into rock and roll hits with stomach groans of horrid sensitivity. It will certainly make you cry a little as the sound evokes pathos of sad improvising with mutilation moos.
therefore c/o Inlet Recordings
PO Box 695
Olympia WA 98507

Aalaborg Noise Jihad compilation cd
1) Marquis Konspirator has a minimal vibro fruit fly it tests out that can produce slow motion lfo seawater by rubbing its two apple ass cheeks together, the seawater blooms into another fruit fly that's half new age christian hymnal and half Milton Badlie game: Do You See the Light of Heaven In Bunnie's Ass? Go Directly To Hell. The Heaven half of the lame game is spent looking for the light with a saran wrapped christ (c&p) brain that is a fear'd of getting its little grey figure wet in the Bunnie Ass raisin pool. This cold feet stuff is a swell game for people who have never sinned, ie: not my cup of pee. The echo from the frightened moaning saran brain is a long one so, you should probably walk away and come back. 2)Luca Brasi's Revenge is a similar textural expression of a Milton Badlie game: Have You Seen My Shit Sock? The object of the game is to not disturb the line of zombie hoboes caught in a satin salt web of saki lost in space sauce. If one of the bums get more sauce than they should they start acting up. Nothing really happens but a few sculp de do tones and these guys play that game real good. And then they play it again but even more somberly. It's beddy by time for hobo. 3)Kummerlige Forhold play a little game that everyone knows: Find Maso in His Own Hair. There are little microphones in the stoned hippies head and bod and you have to find an original part of his body that cant really be identified. This is really hard for these europeans because this is an Asian game. They do manage to fine a baby mole that blows wet fart bubbles for a few seconds and then goes back into bell bottom crumscreech feed back. Later another tiny blue mole is found that animates a ping pong ball eyepiece with a red light inside and the japanese character for cough syrup. More crumscreechin feed back distortion and then the crack pipe tatoo is found. It's on Maso's mouth, full of hair, that starts yelling a buncha crazy asian nonsense. The hot to trot rockin' buddy band Bust Magnifier shows up to round out the end of the Kummer kids game time with two old hits: "My Sore" and "Slip It In the Basic Caustic Agent, This Time Without Rock Music" a real crowd pleaser with loud sounds and such. 4)MaaletHelligerMidlet666 does the woop I'm an Indian woop de woop tee-vee static tomahawk schtick with quiet parts and 'tv is bad let it be by itself now' thing with the old pour water on the hot stove to make a hiss to turn on the cowboys at the football game. The little feedback parts are like a guy with mayo around his moustache telling you he just gave the best blow job in the world. I dont always buy this thing they're trying to get me to believe it's nice and all for them to stick up for the gays and all, but it's just cuz they're a little left out over there in europe. They're part of the scene now, with the hankercheifs all nicely pressed perfectly and all, but the cum on the kerchief is all bonnie hubbard day old mayonaise with a little egg yolk around the edge to make it seem dirty. Hey all I can say is what we like to say to the young crowd here in Frisco: you go you noisician you!! Contact Club DNA & Bands
c/o1000Fryd
Kattesundet 10
9000 Aallborg
Denmark

Unconditional Loathing cd
By now we all know and love the Ninny apolis sound of Cock esp and his power drill generation grit. Here's another little gem with wild ass distortion of hot sounds making the rounds of crazy epic drown the subtleties not so musical sounds. The real meat of this is the great gutsier wires crossed beep and hum stuffs that really puts a little spice in the purple love spotlights. Rarer unexplored areas of Ninny are focused on. The real beauty of the place comes alive. How bout that old Energizing Beaver Dam in Ninny that is powered by old screw cocks starting up individual car engines with broken glass fuel pumps. ...Or the guides who mine the Cuddle Mill with their airplane engine turbine rock flayer extracting rock fungus leftover from rock bands who never had a chance, like Night Manger, and retooling the hair dye and spray jobs into unrecognizable bits of lint making it impossible to let anyone see what the 80's were like. ...Or the odd Donkey Rhythm Wheel that brays when you touch it's futuristic crystal balls with a rhythm track shooting out feathers from the red pentagram asshole which local virgins hiss into for luck and hopes for a dinky donkey spin ride on its red and black rusty 'pokey' hub. ...Or at the Blotanist's Asshouse where in echo chambers you can have a computer feedback your molecular translation of flying diarreah parasites with any discharge goin' home with a computer paper printout of your face next to your nature art. The Racial Trout Fishery, on the outskirts, where race mixing of strobe trout and r/b trout are put together to form geometric life cones for the four people of Ninnyford that live off the dust on top of mailboxes. ...Or how about the children of Ninny that need the fun in their little lives? That's where the Live2Die Hat House on spiked wheels comes to brighten the grey undies these toddlers wear, transferring the undie color to the little human heads while Miss Smoochfist puts scar bags under the bright eyes of the little ones, a cement mixer playing top hits of the cement party mix list. A bonus track on this cd is God's Retirement Party mix which lasts for a short little time and acts like Laidbach is no longer able to keep the beat but only able to hit Thor's multi nut bag cracking together for the festivities. The local preacher hops in with his 2 and a half cents with a soul rousing speech in accented english and later in shredded shortwave frappe with dire straits helping out. Not a good idea. You need never go to that awful shithole with this travel pack.
Unconditional Loathing
3010 hennepin Ave S
Pmb #555
Minneapolis MN 55408-2612
pda101@hotmail.com

Targodie-Against the Sky cd
It's supposed to be a shroom and acid in the hot pool party but these guys worked a couple weeks on the photos for it and started shaving each other and snipping here and there dropping the concept instead of the acid.. The two little creeps on this cd are Larnie Fox: a legend of a being who can take a wire, an old cassette motor, and some bubble gum and make a movie called Tar Wars: A Nude Big Inney that will look like a twenty billion dollar advertisement for roofing ending with world war 5 and you will believe it happened. He puts absolutely useless stuff together and makes moving robot arms that ring buzzers and fart. A modern daVinci godlet made to retraumatize junkyards with bionic blasting breath. He built a huge kite and a flapping 15 foot bird. A real godlet. The other guy is Scot 'hey dude, look over here, fire!!!!!' Jenerik who is a real hit and miss, seeminly only by me, white boy drummer from the southside of the sound mission and skipped the rope with crash worship to end up a grandfather and grantgetter. Originally making a cement brick with a cassette in it for the first solo project and really getting nicer and nicer to the ear losing the abusive feel for a feed the kids more acessable feel in later releases. Some people love this guy cuz he builds spring instruments to put thru rackmount and lights his fists on fire while keeping a beat. Well, alright. The common factor is these dirty buggers lived in Utah and together for a while and they combined the pot stash and came up with this. Parts of this cd get lost in the escalator to the sky and other parts it sounds like the electric heater is eating the reverb rack mount to make a honko fump frog to fry in gamma radiation to make some sorta WD-40 bleach drinking scum swan. The rhythms aren't drum cirles on here and drop out a bunch to explore some scratch or tiny pin pie of a feedback sound. They mix it up and match it one to one and then one to ton with a loud mess of metal machine toy birds pecking it up at the pocketknife piano followed by feeding the pigeons a mack truck with crumbs all over the tires. I think the little wee oscillators in the secret flute cove on the last cut: 'Sheathed in Wet' gets a little bit too Herbie Mann for noisicians, but it's a long cut and goes thru a lot of evolutions with a porkytoten clunk loop in back of it so i wont slag the last track for a slight inconvenience and oversight. Some of the sounds are really familiar, some aren't. It's a hodge podge of kooky unlistenability that can ruin any Xmas. So it comes to my check box of recommendation if you got the time and the dope. You can cut up a national geographic and make your own hot pool shroom party cover if you want the beauty to continue off the sleeve.
Mobilization
Box 46O951
San Francisco, Ca 94146
noise@mobilization.com

Princess Dragonmom-'Fear of Evil' cd A lot of PDM is overkill on the speakers and destroy the tweeters with super compression over-load. Crappo-distortion is accentuated with slappo battle crappo-distortion. Its so goddamn loud your labia starts flapping until you pop out dentures to clamp it down with a few nails around the edges. This sweet and shiny thing is a Blue Oyster Cult tribute and you'd never know it because it sounds more like a tribute to the discovery of skipping dat feedback with any old cd thrown in. These are happy sounds of a cut up torso being knocked down a stairwell in the Kuprick epic: "2001 Dalmations with Inter Intestinal Enamel Radar-Sweepers". The walking on the ceiling of tearful fire by the dog catcher with the early casio arms trying to swing the dog net around the feedback hum laser tag lights burning in his eyeballs scene is remade here with a bit of the garage rock of PDM to really get the listener to raise fist to the rockin' edge of 'Harvester of Eyes'. The cliffhanger sequence when the mixing bowl equalizer swells up to accept the black monolith mixer spatula with adjustable eq settings making the sound of the spheres: hum and buzzzzz and hum and brsssszzz is ureplayed here on a more gutsy level of hum, the knobs are on 10 the whole part through. Then a new development/hot nowhere licks of a guitar in a garage with the hint of the drummer setting up. Immediatly shut up and moving on, back into the brrrzzz and fffffffzzzz sound. This is like when you are getting driven around and fall asleep, you wake up once in a while hearing an odd blast of a car driving by near you, making you wake a little and recount where you are, in a waking dream of the black slab forming digital mush snow wars (schneekrieg auf deutsch), and fluttering into a stupor again. Just imagine your body poisoned every 30 seconds and your immune system fights it off to gain another horrible feeling that has to be retaught how to fight in a different way. When Cultasaurus came out there should have been Pdm for reforming Boc to make everything ok, while Bloom and pals went bankrupt with the old SoftWhiteUnderbelly horror rock band. Unfortunatly the Pdms were just discovering jesus back then so it wouldn't have worked out...Happy static, crummy feeling, good buy. PDM c/o Time Stereo

There were parts of the Hammer /diMuzio stuff that was great especially with the processed STINGRAY marionation video playing like when the rockets were coming out of the ground in slo mo, what a religious experience is like if i were drunk with that low sound, Hammer played his tape loops and cd player, DiMuzio processed the hell out of em. The pa kept crackling cuz of the sound, loud. It was a laid back sound war in parts and other parts were truly like a kicked over outhouse, shit flying everywhere. Wave, wave skroooom crunch etc. Jo Hammer got the greatest amount of folks clustered around him checking out his old reel to reel afterwords, why. The irish masochist that shows up at the clit to cause a scene was arrested finally

Clit did a show last night. It was Ewrock's lay me flay me birthday party. Rainbow Sprinkles is a new band with the pianist of Flakewrist and a turntabler with a guy eatin out the yoni of a blowup doll with a lot of feedback echo on her. A dirty mess. Then some 78 retro band played for a long time a sham69 rock set, gee. Alpha Butts came next with a back drop of gimme octopus. It was swell and sweet. Turntables unidentified came into the mix without sounding like to much of vinyl as more hindenburg blimps being smoothed and burned. The drum machine is deprogrammed and the synth is sparkling yellow pee over the top. Like i said swell. Then RxforBx played with a string section from the loaded era Velvet Underground. These turkeys talked processed vocals and played rods with wires on em, the weak link. The best part about this band is the messed up wireloose drum machine, in a cigar box screaming it's death in a burlap bag chained to a firecracker dumped out of a plane. They also had a tv that played a light sensitive theremin. She was a good looking tv set too all smooth and sexy. Normal keyboard and sampler stuff over the top with the sound sorta insulting the crafty parts of the blam. Then Turbine played guitar drum box stuff very dance club very exit-able. Why. There was a little to much easy music happening for comfort. It would be nice to get the reglars(there's always some kinda exodus p horrig or wilma benitta in the audience as a cheery guest) that are always at the show to get up and render unconcious the crap bands and take over the nice equipment the limplame lads play showing a little energy and palacemalice like the old days of san francisco's miss piggot who would dose the sailors with laudium and drop em in a trap door sending them out to sea free of belongings. The huddlefudge that show up to the ClitStop aren't so easily fooled, most of the riders include Bertrand Russel tapes and torso tossing vaudville skits backstage. The smartest people in the world. How was your blatsundrag chim.

11-12-99 in REV"UE Heino vs. Heino
Last night went to see Keiji Heino and the Fushitsusha band with Gaji (sucks, imagine melt banana doing pot at gang of 4 concert) and Sub Arachnoid Space (The Grateful Dead reform as the dead and perform 10 Years After jams.) Keiji has been around since the 60s doing guitarded torturings and The Swans "Filth" lp and Zeni Geva caught up to it eventually in the 80s. He first went up on stage while the band was warming up with a noisy send up carrying a turkish oud kinda instrument(hey guys i was just hanging out backstage playin my gourd, and thought i would come jam) set it down and put on the guitar. Then he did his back/forward guitar delay w/distortion and went on for 15 mins, some vocals, string replacement: that was a feat, he was in near darkness with sunglasses and was changing a string for 5 mins while nodding to the band trying to conduct, sorta. The band plodded on loud but not to innovative, then he couldnt see the knobs cuz those fucking sunglasses so the volume stayed down. Then a real obtuse guitar solo like something off "Filth" (but from the 60's probably, not the 80's)making a lubegroov/one note/ and into another conducting thing. The band tried to follow what he was doing and it was hard to tell if he was happy with it or not. The ever present sword cane he started moving around, conducting. More guitar. He's a fiesty little fucker in black being 50 or whatever. He's got a spring in his ankle and a bug in the butt. The band went on and then...he was giving nods to tell the buddies what to do, or something, picks up his guitar off his bod and slams it to the ground. Wowee, tempermental artists. Neat. The kids loved it. The band ended eventually turning off his feedback and the poor turkish gourd didn't get played. Shit. So ya know, Jim O Rourke was playing on the other side of the shitty here and the pal i talked to said he was boooring as all at the club agreed. Guitar and vocals, cool dood. Please you chicago metal heads tell me what stuff of his is good

YOU GOTTA LISTEN TO THIS LOUD DONT BE A SISSY YOUR EARDRUMS WILL GROW BACK.SPECULUM KAIDAN//sPECULUm Fight vs. HeijoKaidan....
JoJo vistas the LA area/Speculum Fight books time/Junko screams when a jet engine straight razors her face. Shushing shower skidding guitar feedback. Junko quits crying....10 minutes are up, her eyes have to be sewn together to hide the mess, Speculum Fight adjusts some nobs/2 minutes later Junko starts up her asian god love scream pleas for a quick and merciful death! Jojo realizes his guitar is feeding back, hits a couple of strings while trying to perform surgery on the chronic flayed hemmorage on Junko's head. Again the guitar starts feeding back. Tosses and e-bow magnet on top of the pick-ups. An idea!! Jojo reaches into his big pocketed panda sweater and pulls out a few baseball cards, using a feedback stapler slices into the guitar and Junko's chanting head. She's up and really screaming! This is it. Speculum Fight kicks into high gear puring mercury into JoJo's asshole and mouth and shakes him like a mixer! He's in control now, the islanders are disoriented and lay down. Little jerking atrocities spasm on the frets, inadvertantly: a van halen gastrectomy and liver replacement! Three things are at work here and 2 are left. Tilting toppling jet engines and twip guitar. Things are calming down slowly, and dwindle away, 14 minutes have gone by. Slow conciousness now as Speculum Fight plies the other warriors in the studio with vitamins and tabasco sause in the wounds. Round Three!!! Junko stands up and falls on JoJo, she's passed out!! He's got a new pick! A 100 lb. woman!!! Specufight grabs the other parts not being used by JoJo (left arm, left leg) and jams on the bass! Rock party!! No music!! You can almost hear the soundman screaming for the police. An ambulance shows up as the last second is put on tape, that's it! No more japanese tourist in LA, they just want to hurt..poop alley is closed and Tom goes to jail.
Transparency
Box 1821
L A CA. 90091
http://www.transparency.com

Aalaborg Noise Jihad compilation cd
1) Marquis Konspirator has a minimal vibro fruit fly it tests out that can produce slow motion lfo seawater by rubbing its two apple ass cheeks together, the seawater blooms into another fruit fly that's half new age christian hymnal and half Milton Badlie game: Do You See the Light of Heaven In Bunnie's Ass? Go Directly To Hell. The Heaven half of the lame game is spent looking for the light with a saran wrapped christ (c&p) brain that is a fear'd of getting its little grey figure wet in the Bunnie Ass raisin pool. This cold feet stuff is a swell game for people who have never sinned, ie: not my cup of pee. The echo from the frightened moaning saran brain is a long one so, you should probably walk away and come back. 2)Luca Brasi's Revenge is a similar textural expression of a Milton Badlie game: Have You Seen My Shit Sock? The object of the game is to not disturb the line of zombie hoboes caught in a satin salt web of saki lost in space sauce. If one of the bums get more sauce than they should they start acting up. Nothing really happens but a few sculp de do tones and these guys play that game real good. And then they play it again but even more somberly. It's beddy by time for hobo. 3)Kummerlige Forhold play a little game that everyone knows: Find Maso in His Own Hair. There are little microphones in the stoned hippies head and bod and you have to find an original part of his body that cant really be identified. This is really hard for these europeans because this is an Asian game. They do manage to fine a baby mole that blows wet fart bubbles for a few seconds and then goes back into bell bottom crumscreech feed back. Later another tiny blue mole is found that animates a ping pong ball eyepiece with a red light inside and the japanese character for cough syrup. More crumscreechin feed back distortion and then the crack pipe tatoo is found. It's on Maso's mouth, full of hair, that starts yelling a buncha crazy asian nonsense. The hot to trot rockin' buddy band Bust Magnifier shows up to round out the end of the Kummer kids game time with two old hits: "My Sore" and "Slip It In the Basic Caustic Agent, This Time Without Rock Music" a real crowd pleaser with loud sounds and such. 4)MaaletHelligerMidlet666 does the woop I'm an Indian woop de woop tee-vee static tomahawk schtick with quiet parts and 'tv is bad let it be by itself now' thing with the old pour water on the hot stove to make a hiss to turn on the cowboys at the football game. The little feedback parts are like a guy with mayo around his moustache telling you he just gave the best blow job in the world. I dont always buy this thing they're trying to get me to believe it's nice and all for them to stick up for the gays and all, but it's just cuz they're a little left out over there in europe. They're part of the scene now, with the hankercheifs all nicely pressed perfectly and all, but the cum on the kerchief is all bonnie hubbard day old mayonaise with a little egg yolk around the edge to make it seem dirty. Hey all I can say is what we like to say to the young crowd here in Frisco: you go you noisician you!! Contact Club DNA & Bands c/o1000Fryd Kattesundet 10 9000 Aallborg Denmark

Princess Dragonmom-'Fear .

kimos 10 9 99
last night the Krob opened the show with a hyped up pre show banter to audience peoples, no one heard it hardly cuz he was talking to himself"Krob has to die at the hands of Captain Crummy:my other self, the good guy, the show will be a good vs. evil spotlight like the japanese hero shows , no middle ground, the worse may happen.....i dont know maybe i can play alley cat from ipenema or destroy the world we'll see....i do not know...."when he finally got up there on stage with the disco ball spinning he played all these wierd atmospheric (bordering on evil new age) stuff that was real tounge in cheek, he'd roll his eyes and change the electronic organ sound to lush strings or some kinda noise that would click over to syntho drums, like a bored kid watching tv changing channels. The self/fight didnt happen maybe cuz he played on all borrowed equipment, but i think when something was being played too sweet or too dark he'd smirk and roll the eyes, change the channel and off into another personality of sound. Music fanatics would be frustrated but the stabs he made at the pop easy listening / noise beast were ultimatly fun ny. Next was Skozey Fetisch, this guy started out in Utah doing wierd situations and then a Jupiter 6 synth band and then (last show) creepy accapella vaudeville scream choir 7piece/ of sound, and last night did a solo with tape deck and mixer starting off with a boogie violent onsen geisha type wash of sound followed by innovative tape spankies and followed by shoe in textures for presidensies. real sweet. his Zorro outfix was not as great as the waltz panda outfit but it was better than the 'im the coach, tweet' clothing he was usually wearing. the main deal is he delivered a big swollen banana slug sound to the eagerly hurt folx, nuff said.... Next was Lectric Man: theremin and some taped up efx that coupled with costume made a fobidden planet deli ripe for hearing. His 10 pound /7 eyed/ crested/meter tall head was a precarious balancing act coupled with the stuffed tiny bear body feet and silver suit made of mirror set the shitty disco bar into the heart of the non disney pluto and awed everyone with the oscillatin' dream ghost of neptuna complete with hand gestures and bug eyed looks of multi love....this is good music to put animal/human beasts to sleep. yawnhoo!! Commode Minstrels in Bullface: ending the set with giant flash cards and music from 'THE PINS' A FREE RANGE ZOO/ plus some cover tunes including a shoot me im miserable version of Music to Watch Girls Go By witch was truly sad...costumes and simple antic, people clapped..

Kimos is a swell disco drag bar with a lit up stage ala sat nite fever, people smoke (assholes only) and the waitress is a guy with boobies. The music between the bands was metal and pleased the punkos and the proprieter but was torture for all my friends..This place pays better for non musical shows better than any other places in sf to my knowledge as you get allll door unless the booker takes a cut, fukya. You can look onto the street at the queens on speed while your knob twisters pollute your ears. And it has a curtain. if ya go you might get a discount if in drag, like wearing a niners jersey to a niners game, sorta silly but thats how it worx. Adelaide O'Clownner might show up and act like a fool too, who knows what she's talking about? no one knows, she runs around pissd off like Sinead OConner and mouths off getting thrown out usually..this time over a glass of water?? or something..she needs the clown nose& shoes for completeness, dont bother to follow the train of thought your in for some stalking if you do....

10 18 99
makeout in revue Some yodeler started off that looked like the mother from the movie 'The Adjuster' (highly recommended, it's the director's wife who plays the mother) and then struck a few Joan Baez chords so i left. Came back for Toychestra. This is like an all girl Renaldo and the Loaf with maybe a little less dischordancy and no forced haha were so funny vocals. They started off with an accapella country travel tune (kitschy) and blew up with Autobahn which ripped in a tink and clink way ending in an auto wreck. The other hot parts were: slamming the toy piano on 'Hitchcock' ala Psycho shower scene, and the coolest deal Perez Prado's 'Patricia' reworked into a bunch of changes at a slower tempo. It's a real gas. The rest of the set was cute and pretty musical stabbing at the percussiony stuff from 'Fingerprince' and making everyone at that lame club smile. Aww theyre so cute. I wish (Im sure im the only one that thought this) it was more dischordant and gutsy with a few pots of boiling mud in front of the stage making burp sounds. They really want to be liked tho' and please the masses, so I dont think that will ever happen. Saw and absolute godlink of a movie:STATE OF WEIGHTLESSNESS its got 'Solaris' beat by about a coulple hrs and the shots outdo Kubriks 2001. The cosmonauts were up in space for a long fuckn time and the declassified space footage is amazing.! The soundtrack is real ethereal Dumitrescu type stuff and the interviews really bring up the direness and deparavity of space junking. Those guys got horny up there and were sent porn. It's all wrong. See it. See it.

10 17 99 in revue :Delivery Rom
So the Delivery Rom once again had the greatest clarinet guy in the oakland area Math Ingals bloot his toots and wheez and hoot with some other cat named goob (Morgan Guberman) slapping and stroking a big old bass with a bow. These guys faces turned red and sweaty and they really jazzed it out. yuh. The Math I. schtick was overpowered from the clarinet with a violin solo which could make a discoteque close from sheer contradiction followed by more pauses punctuations of sound by scwanko skroks. It warz cool jazz and the quiet audience appreciated every quiet part by sweating in harmony with the players. A highlight of the set was Burton Greene going into the toilet closing the door and then the lid of the toilet, mussing with the good (quiet for a moment) feather faries on stage. Next up was a cd by Conlin Nancarrow as a prelude to Burton Greene, a kooky piano guy from the 60s who promised 'bursts of crazy electronics' during his spot..There were a lot of older people in their 40s ready to love him to pieces.He sat down with much to do at the D-50 Roland sampler and started playing liberation music for the Frog Liberation Organization or something Semi familiar samples and later super familiar hand clap samples with keyboardy Art Zoyd as a one man band shot around the speakers doing absolutely nothing for me. I had to leave. Burt played with some other folks in some electronic ensembles that were mind blowing, but whe left to his own devices it's sorta normal free european prog samples. Outside on Howard street there were some brightlights. Another cool show! The sounds were drawing me to it and the lighting was stark, some buff dudes were digging a pit in the middle of the street, it sort of saved that portion of the evening, the sounds were spectacular served by brute strength getting the job done. Next was Henry Kaiser and the Spontaneous Music Ensemble tribute thing. It was sorta too pansy compared to what i just saw so i caught the bus home.