#dead c

[dustedmagazine]

Bruce Russell — Demonstration Record (Carbon)

Back in the mid-1990s, Bruce Russell published the Free Noise Manifesto, a declaration of content, intent and parameters for the sound work done by him and fellow travelers around the globe. He knows how to use words, so let’s give him a bit of space to indicate what this record of cell phone recordings made over the course of a southern summer (he lives on New Zealand’s southern island) are about:

“Mono, no mastering.”

Editing, and adjusting speed and volume were the only steps taken between the nine performances recording and pressing. Demonstration Record (more on that title in a minute) eschews inessentials; there’s no polishing, no tunes, no singing to draw you in. But that doesn’t mean that it lacks hooks. A hook is anything that makes you listen twice, and Russell , who is also a member of the Dead C, knows a good noise when he hears (or makes) one. This record’s full of them. There’s the slowed-down water cistern on “Climate Study #1” and the layered pot lids and water jugs on “Climate Study #3,” which wobble out of the speakers like a projection of The Prisoner’s Rover bulbously bouncing across your wall. There’s the sputtering, billowing waves of fuzz on “Reduced Listening,” which combine the visceral pleasures of applying an electric razor to your cheek and a chainsaw to a tree stump.

And there’s the irresistible gravity exerted by the complex wobble that introduces “Holly Springs #2,” a piece that also demonstrates (aha!) Russell’s links to known music. While he has often represented himself as unburdened by chops, he sure knows how to get a blues sound by setting slide to guitar. Hook you it will, like barbed wire snagging your coat as you try to get over the top of some wall. He also manages to simultaneously reference the band Suicide and make them seem ostentatious by comparison with alternating buzzes and sizzles that he obtains from the Dirtbox Modulator (a device invented by Omit aka Clinton Williams, a recurrent associate of Russell’s over the years) on “Metal Petal.”

Russell uses nothing extra, but he also uses just enough to get his point across. The minimal dedications appended to the technical notes for each song transform them into simple signal sequences that make lucid statements of influence and apprehension. When your message is clear and your tools are sturdy, a little is all it takes. 

Bill Meyer

[zombimanos]

New Year's Noize

[ozkar-krapo]

The DEAD C.

"DR503 / The Sun stabbed EP"

(LP+12". Ba Da Bing! / Jagjaguwar. 2006 / rec. 1987/88) [NZ]

[nightmaretour]

What a lot of abled people don't understand is that when you get more sick as someone who was already physically disabled/chronically ill, you don't get the sympathy, you don't get people sending you cards and coming to visit and help you with things. Everyone just kind of assumes that you can handle it, that it's not *really* anything new. Maybe people might acknowledge it for a week or two, but then to them it's just normal. You were already sick, so why would being a little more sick be disruptive to you, right?

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[saint-hymn]

mercy, mèrci

[luppiart]

Christmas time always brings me back to them

[chelestials]

nothing is more humbling when you’re watching an edit of your favorite actor and then the screen goes black and you see yourself on your screen basically thirsting over them

[crowfatherd]

I WANT OUT

full ver down here because i thought the close up captured the claustrophobic feeling of the scene better but also....... i needed you to see the pose.......

[ccccatttta]

♡ jegulus mini socmed au where regulus and james meet in the least convenient way, but still manage to become smitten and make it sirius' problem.

[ for starchaser week 2024 day one: meet cute/university au]

im back [crowd cheers]

part 01 ; part 02 ; part 03 ; part 04 ; part 05 ;

part 06 ; part 07 ; part 08 ; part 09 ;

[dustedmagazine]

Gate — The Numbers (Birdman)

The Numbers by Gate

In 2010, Michael Morley released A Republic of Sadness, confounding longtime fans with an album replete with drum machines and warbly samples. That record’s proto-industrial downer vibe seemed a left turn from the avant-rock dirges found on past Gate records. The Dead C member was known as a guitar and vocals guy; what was he doing with a drum machine? A Republic of Sadness proved that Morley, who eschewed the jangle of the Dunedin Sound and helped blaze a noise-strewn trail for Aotearoa in the late 1980s and early 1990s, is a consummate experimenter. He’s not keen to stay in one lane. He roams the entire roadway in search of interesting sounds.

A couple years after that album arrived, Morley recorded the songs that would become The Numbers. This time around, he reversed course slightly. His hangdog howl never disappeared, but on these songs, it is front and center in the mix. Greenish clouds of irascible guitar murk permeate every track. The drum machine is still present, but the beats are skeletal. Subtle synths create faint echoes of electronic energy. These songs reveal Morley as a downtrodden noise conjuror, wielding chaos to create what he finds beautiful. Curiously, Morley left these songs in the can for ten years. He eventually released the album digitally in 2022, but thanks to Birdman Records, The Numbers exists in corporeal form. We can hold the tumult in our hands.

“All of My Family” leads with intertwining contrails of guitar and synth that writhe between a scant drum machine rhythm. Morley mumbles semi-coherently as he adds fractured guitar notes overtop the fuzzy din. The layers of molasses thick tone manage to addle the machine-like precision of the programmed beats, such that the rhythm seems slightly off-kilter. He has managed to infect the circuitry with his downtrodden, low fidelity blues. On the haunting “Land,” Morley unravels a languorous guitar passage, the gloomy notes fading out to disappear as slowly as they arrived. Searing static subdues the morose melody, along with everything else in its path. Morley struggles to rein it in, but eventually relents.

The Numbers concludes with “Film Envy,” a hypnotic swirl of punishing drum machine beats, searing guitar shredding, and Morley’s twisted narration. As the track progresses, Morley adds layer upon layer of feedback, static, and noise such that at the song’s apex, it feels like we’ve stumbled upon a pack of warring demons intent on destroying all creation. When it’s over, we’re left choking and staggering, marvelling at the destruction. It’s a fitting conclusion to an album that is chaotic, beautiful, and as Morely himself says, “classic Gate material.” 

Bryon Hayes

[elalalune]

Now I live in darkness

Bring me brightness

[columboscreens]

[soiers]

Thank you for teaching me what it's like to be human

[fyanimaldiversity]

If you ever wondered what the best living vertebrate is, it’s the alligator gar in my totally not biased 100% scientifically backed opinion. They are just a flawless creature. Nothing wrong with them. Good tooth to snoot ratio, they have a winning smile.

They and other monster fish absolutely should NOT be in the hands of most private keepers at all and I do NOT support morph breeding of them because of that, but pretty fishy cute :c

[gettiregretti]

Slow cooking an idea where Jayce stays to try and help Viktor fight the Hexcore within him. He’s never sure if he’ll have Viktor or the Herald that day. Trying to keep secret plans from your god-like lover who can literally enter your mind is a full time horror show

Viktor and Jayce plotting against the Hexcore without it working out what they are doing. Hidden codes, snatched moments. Viktor manages to create a space just for him and starts to hoard energy against the Hexcore. It can use any face to trick him, and frequently tries to wear Jayce’s. They aren’t more powerful, so they just have to be smarter than their own creation. And together they can solve any equation.