Three from the Cold Spring Records label.
Amazingly, Clay Ruby has been blasting the material world as Burial Hex for nearly 20 years – and to mark the occasion, it’s been agreed (among the Dark Elders in charge of World Doom) that he should compile all his compilation tracks that were sent to small labels over the years. Although Burial Hex music is a supernatural and occult curse against the world, Clay Ruby himself is an affable fellow who can never refuse when asked to contribute a track to one of the many international agencies that dabble in this sort of thing, such as Brave Mysteries, Aurora Borealis, Small Doses – that’s just some of the obscure net-labels and vinyl-only merchants named here. Normally at this point I say that buying a CD like In Hiding (COLD SPRING RECORDS CSR328CD) obviates the need for hard-core collectors to scour auction sites and flea-markets of the underworld, but not quite; it seems Ruby has remixed every single one of these nine blinders, so it’s not precisely the same, and if you want to hear the original mix of ‘From Heel To Throat’ you may have to shell out £14 to get an original double-cassette of Life Ist Krieg on the UK label Clan Destine. Ruby’s intention in doing th’ refashioning (using tongs and staplers) was to make In Hiding a more coherent listen so it could be mistaken for a sequenced album; but don’t all remixers say that? As to me calling them “blinders”, well, there are a few moments here where you risk having your eyes burned out by red-hot pokers, but overall it’s a surprisingly subdued set of semi-melodious darkeries, in spite of strong imagery (assorted grotesques and mutant faces) on the digipak panels provided by Nat Ritter. Didn’t Burial Hex used to be noisier, blacker, doomier, and more ritualistic than this?
Far more horrifying is The Woods (CSR322CD) by Satøri, who I now learn is a 1980s die-hard from Margate active since 1984. Actually it’s just Dave Kirby now, but this used to be a band / collaborative thing, involving the talents of Robert Maycock, Justin Mitchell, and Neil Chaney at various times, plus they had releases on that nastiest of pathological UK noise labels, Broken Flag. On today’s CD, Kirby (working solo) offers nine cuts that he made in his Somerset lair during 2020-2023, all tagged with grim titles alluding to oppression, blood lust, satanic rites, and all-round unpleasantness. “Pure noise, harsh synths and brutal percussion”, say the label, to which list I would add a tremendous amount of reverb, or possibly some other studio technique that creates the effect of running into a solid brick wall and having all the air sucked out of your defenceless lungs. Many such audio “slams” to be heard on this CD, which don’t simply describe oppression – they force you to experience it. There’s also some occasional shouty vocals performed with all the self-importance, bombast, and drama-queen pomp I’ve come to expect from this kind of retro power-electronics nonsense. All I can say in favour of The Woods is to enthuse mildly about the clever open-ended structure of each horrible tune, which allows our man Kirby to execute some unexpected dynamic twists. Witchcrafty-style moody cover artworks by Helasdottir.
Well, so much for the “evil” face of this sociopathic record label. We turn lastly to Continuous Hole (CSR325CD), which is credited to Drew Daniel and John Wiese. 100% American noise nurtured and grown in the hellpits of San Francisco, Los Angeles, and, erm, Baltimore (that last locale is very far from being the 21st-century Gomorrah we’d expect). The CD rescues a 2018 LP that surfaced for five minutes on the Gilgongo label in America. No idea how they made it, but it might have something to do with cut-ups; we’re not told what source material was used, but the artistic coup has been to equip most tracks with a sort of pumping, hump-like fucking rhythm that’s about as precise as your old Dr Rhythm beatbox, yet they did it all manually – no MIDI or sampling guaranteed! Approvingly, the press notes speak of a “labour-intensive” process as Wiese and Daniel shared the mutual pleasures of “frenzied cutting”. Having used the “noise” word, I might want to reconsider that in the light of the strange and alienating tones that emanate from this rum beast. Certainly Wiese has been “harsher” in his prolific career behind the wheel of HMS Noiseblast, but I haven’t heard much new from him for many a year now. Drew Daniel comes to us from Matmos and also The Soft Pink Project, and though no stranger to rubbing shoulders with prominent noise idols, also seems to be something of a commentator and analyst, what with his booklet on Throbbing Gristle and his assorted liner notes for Coil and People Like Us. Continuous Hole is a jolly enough ride, I suppose, though I’m not feeling the truly visceral, dangerous and ferocious elements which other listeners have perceived; it appears more like a mechanistic game or toy, trying to prove some obscure point about physics or philosophy, using a rotating wind-up model. Even the cover photo casts a cerebral air, hinting at a modern alchemist or necromancer at work in their study. The six panel digipak artwork prints and repeats a black hole in the centre, as if the designer were aiming at an avant-garde version of The Very Hungry Caterpillar.
All three from 21 September 2023.