Reviewed by War Arrow
Original position in magazine: p 66
Contents: Siegmar Fricke, The Crucible of Tearrer, H.A.V.E.
Driven away from my beloved Radio 4 by yet another interminable edition of Kaleidoscope laden, as per bloody usual, with items on Shakespeare and Opera (again!) I turned to my skip in which are stored a random selection of cassettes that have to date proven too forbidding to listen to, given my low boredom threshold…
Siegmar Fricke
Wash and Go
Cassette C45, Anachronismus AT01 (1992)
The cover of this particular item caught my eye…a pleasing collage reproduced in vivid florescence by courtesy of a laser copier. To be frank I haven’t got the faintest idea who Siegmar Fricke might be or how this copy of his magnum opus should come to be in my possession, but perhaps that’s no bad thing. Thus I may be able to ‘Listen Without Prejudice’ as the great sage George Michael put it.
Wash and Go contains eight tracks of what might be described as dance music, in as much as it’s possible to ascribe that term to Chris and Cosey’s output. Indeed young Siegmar’s tape reminds me somewhat of the aforementioned duo: the sequencers, the inventive rhythm patterns and the general feel are akin to their later offerings, though happily not nearly so piss poor. The standout compositions here are ‘Why don’t you move’ and the title track, both of which chug along quite cheerily with an imaginative and refreshing quotient of surprises. I doubt that in its present state much here would work as dance music, given certain passages of repetitive tedium. I would however argue that the strength of any worthwhile dance record which can truly claim to be having it large style, if you will, is that repetition, done properly, is an advantage and not a flaw. I managed to listen to this, in the comfort of my own front room, all the way through. Which counts for a lot considering I rarely manage more that the first 45 seconds of most cassettes.
I wouldn’t recommend Siegmar Fricke to everyone and in truth I may not actually listen to Wash and Go ever again, but in its favour this is well recorded and has some nice touches to it. If you’ve considered investigating Chris and Cosey’s back catalogue, think again; although their first three albums are fine, that was a long time ago. Turn your attention rather to this chap, who does it far better with less equipment and actually sounds like he bothers to stay awake during recording.
The Crucible of Tearrer
Racing Room Tapes 1996
Guilt rears its unwelcome head. This is another cassette I seem to have acquired through means I can no longer remember. I have at some point corresponded with the individual behind Racing Room Tapes and may actually have met him, finding him to be an entertaining and interesting individual, but…what we have here is uhm…art. Two voices and a channel of white noise vie for the listener’s attention. One monologue is almost unintelligible, the other not so. As my attention gradually focused (about ten minutes into side one) I became vaguely aware of some meaningful discourse unfolding for my edification. It would seem to concern subliminal influences, possibly those of the less comprehensible monologue. The clearer voice seemed to be implying that subconsciously its muddier counterpart was having some obscure effect upon me. ‘Surely not’, I scoffed and uncannily the tape replied, ‘You may scoff at this, but remember you are being affected. If you do not believe so…then try turning this cassette off and not listening to the rest of it. You will find it impossible.’
Au contraire. I found it easy.
H.A.V.E.
H.A.V.E. II
Harlequin Tapes
Tapes like this remind me why I became interested in the medium in the first place. The component parts make for a recipe which could in less able hands have made for something slightly less appetising than doggy business pie, however, the mighty Dave, mastermind of both this cassette and the related Harlequin comic has served up a feast which may leave the discerning ear salivating to more. Leaving culinary comparisons behind before they become ridiculous, what we have here is sixty minutes of completely disparate elements blended into a masterful and cohesive whole. Jazz. Heavy Metal. Sampling. Found sounds. Tape loops. Mathematically confusing progressive rock structures. Most music I’ve heard combining such ingredients often smacks of square-arsed contrivance, a soulless exercise by persons whose right to draw breath I might question. H.A.V.E. II however, to use a cliché, rocks like a beast. It flows effortlessly through a myriad of genres, reassessing and reinventing them as it goes. It shoots, it scores. It makes all other cassette albums sound like the folly of silly sausages. Highly recommended.
WAR ARROW