Regosphere / Screwtape "We Destroy Planets" split C40 (DumpsterScore)

This awfully-limited split cassette (we're talking 25 numbered copies) titled "We Destroy Planets" features a double dose of action from Dumpsterscore keeper Andrew Quitter (Regosphere), who resides in St. Louis by way of Portland, and Andrew McIntosh (Screwtape), who I believe is an Aussie.

I've heard Quitter's alter-ego, Suburbia Melting, in the past, but this was my introduction to his much darker, much slimier Regosphere project. The opening track on his side, Urban Coffin, blends several haunting layers of foggy drone and buzz in a transfixed, stalking stride. It's audio swamp water, doused in fog, that slowly creeps through the cracks. It's hypnotic leanings only give way to some occasional raw vocals, but even those have a dismal quality that blend in with the haze. The track closes with everything fading out into a hand full of rebounding thuds. That shit was way dense, and to be honest, I was hoping it was gonna go on for a few more minutes. Instead, it faded out and the next jam, One Black Hole At A Time, took over. One Black Hole took on a much more clangy, junk-metal-crash-a-thon, going for a bit more abrasive personality. The distorted scrap yard opus played under a mosquito-like hum that had a much slower pace, the two in bed together brewing up an impressive tonal-juxtaposition. The looping tones become more focused and brighter as the metal mash ran out of breath, ending it all in a numbing daze. Holy shit, man. Good times for the entire 20 minutes for sure, though Urban Coffin had a leg up on things.

Screwtape has the same mucky-marsh vibe as Regosphere, but Andrew McIntosh's two tracks (Rehkh and Law Of Contagion) are much more basic in nature. McIntosh focuses on gargling tones that phase through one another, tones that lazily froth like... Fuck, what lazily froths?? Either way, the tones don't really evolve through the duration of either track. Similar muddied elements pop in and out of the picture, but tend to be out of focus and drudging, leaving the experience a bit of a bummer.

Perhaps not the best pairing, but the Regopshere side should be enough reason to shell out the $6.00 (ppd in the US) for this C40. The layout, not so much. The two panel jcard is a black and white print on light, glossy paper. And I know, I know. This is beyond nit-picking, but it is a basic: LET IT BLEED! Let's get the act together, people. You got an all black cover and you're gonna slip some sloppy edges by Q.C.? That is almost as bad as when people print every line from the jcard template on the finished covers. Whatever... This is still available, and worth picking up. (MAH)

Nodolby s/t C32 (Stunned)

Nodolby is a name that I don't hear very often, which is a shame considering that this guy (who also runs the Italian imprint Dokuro Records) creates some seriously compelling textured and tangled soundscapes. I suppose one of the reasons why the name Nodolby isn't tossed around on regular basis is because his musical output is a bit on the limited side. That may also be what keeps his quality control meter turned all the way up to eleven. Mic Scariot, that is his name by the way, teamed up with Portland, OR's Stunned Records for this self titled C32. Quite possibly my favorite release so far by both parties.

Side A's starting track, titled Voice Over The Zone, When Light Devouring Me (perhaps a bad translation, but pretty fun to say with an Italian accent) opens with a thicket of churning drones and grating dilations, fermenting into a haunted swell of sounds. Scariot doesn't bring these ideas together into a grand mess, but instead plays them off of each other as he adds in elements like reverberated plucks at guitar strings and spoken word vocals (contributed by Demis da Rold, who appears on previous Nodolby releases) that could moonlight as film-noir narrations. The boil that began Voice Over The Zone eventually fades into the background as the more crawly characteristic of the track, the slightly echoed strings and vocals, are left alone to finish things off. Though a nice piece, it was probably my least favorite of the four on this tape. The added voice towards the end was, I don't know, maybe a bit to cerebral for my American pallet. If that is the case, then Response: Superfeedback Convoy, the other track on side A, completely makes up for it. Here, Scariot finds recreation in the collision of more spirited sounds as he mixes cutting-in-and-out feedback and bizarre-o blips and bloops with the likes of toy pianos at rapid pace. Again, though, nothing is done in a slapdash, disheveled way. That may be my favorite thing about Nodolby's style; no matter how cluttered the field gets, or how miscellaneous he gets, everything comes across as fairly orchestrated and purposed.

The final two tracks on this self-titled tape are on side B. Those tracks, Automatic Mydriasis Dream Weapon's Pivotal Guidance and Summer Stasis Bucolic Transient Onomatopoeia may be a pain in the ass to say, but the listen... Oh the listen. These are the tracks that would make this Tabs Out "tape of the month" if I had such a feature here, which I don't, so let's move on. AMDWPG's effervescent ambiance is ridiculous. Mic leisurely stacks an array of whimsical components together until he's got you floating through space. A gush of audible exhalations and laid back synthesizer-drops nudge at you ever so slightly as they sail by. A bit of added racket and a sampling of a dog (credited as Yoshimy) barking finishes things off. The track is short(ish), which is my only complaint. I would have love to hear this dreamy (tangerine dreamy if you will) jam go on for a bit longer. What sounds like mic'ed metal and chains, laced with just a pinch of reverb, is the opening call for the final tune, SSBTO. Combined with some simple feedback, Scariot brews up some junkyard ugliness for the majority of the track, then seamlessly switches into a twangy, acoustic closer. Beautiful.

If the audio wasn't enough for you to pick this up, then the packaging should be the extra push to get ya over the edge. The standard Stunned die-cut j-card features full color, double sided printing. A dazzling, crisp collage spans both panels on the front while a crazy brain diagram and information for the tape is on the inside. The cassettes are pro-dubbed and have solid blue shells with a black silk screen on both the A and B sides. The mixture of naked dudes, sea life, and a myriad of skulls throughout the artwork gives off a slight evolution theme, but I have no clue if that was on purpose. It's probably just something I am picking up. This was produced in a numbered edition of 100 copies, and appears to be sold out from Stunned, so let the search begin! (MAH)

Mark Lord "Blair House Nosebleed" C28 (Chondritic Sound)

Mark Lord is the nom de plume of Christopher Forgues, who has either dumped or placed on hiatus his top-notch Kites project. Those familiar with Forgues' past sound crops, as well as his artwork, know that the dude has a definite flair for the bugged out. Never being let down by any Kites releases, most of which were discharged by the likes of Load Records and Forgues' own baby Unskilled Labor, I was stoked to read on the Chondritic Sound site that Mark was Chris and Chris was Mark and so forth into infinity.

Using a leaky-sink-synth, Christopher (or maybe I should say Mark??) modulates his way through a rippled maze of thin tones that crackle, bubble, and phase. Don't think about the hedge maze in The Shining, but more a house of mirrors at a fly by night carnival. The deformed pattern that is created reflects left to right and front to back, but the crunchy mess that is laid over that pattern is like the sticky, cotton candy fingerprints on the glass, and rainbow vomit stains that your shoes keep sticking to. It's easy to get caught up in either one of these elements; the hypnotizing swirl that stretches out through both sides of "Blair House Nosebleed", or the gallimaufry of muddled crud that is trying to overpower it. Towards the end of the track, weirdo (backwards?) vocals mingle with the siren shrills and mutant rhythm, the finishing touches on an unhinged trip.

If I had to make more movie or television references, and I do (it's become the only way I can communicate with people anymore), I would compare this Mark Lord C28 to a crude blending of a Twin Peaks dream sequence and the "Trouble With Tribbles" Star Trek episode. I just checked, and the Wikipedia page states that classic's overview as "Cuddly creatures turn into a menace quickly...". Yeah, that is this. Throw in the red room and you nailed it.

I'm not 100% clear on what else Forgues has released as Mark Lord, or how long he has been at it, but that information is something I'm gonna be seeking out for sure. If the other shit is half as toe thumping and mind numbing as this, well then I gots to get it, mang! It would seem that the artwork for this cassette, along with the rest of Chondritic's latest batch of goodies, kicks off a new aesthetic and logo for the label, which (needless to say) I can get behind. The two panel J-card is printed in green ink on metallic, copper-colored paper making for a beyond sweet looking cover. The black cassette has a rectangle label applied to it with a portion of the cover art printed on it. It's weird, I hate when those band-aid shaped leftovers from center labels are used on tapes, but I really like these rectangle adhesive jams. It's funny how the slightest change can make huge difference. 100 total copies made, with a boobie on each cover. That's 100 boobies. (MAH)

Channeling Andy Rooney #3

An unhappy camper dropped a comment recently on Tabs Out regarding the blog style. It was left in the comment section of the Coldstream / VIKOMT split C60 review, but I think it was meant for the write ups in general. Quoted:

"i still don't understand why "packaging" is so important to people. or spending a paragraph to review artwork. is necessary. you gonna listen to the soundz or are you just gonna get stoned an stare at an album cover..."

Forget about the fact that the two are in no way mutually exclusive. The question is: Is it necessary? Fuck no. Duh. Are any of these stupid reviews actually necessary? I don't think Karl Rove could assemble a think tank to convince a single person that they are. Hell, I don't think there is a remote chance that Stephen Hawking could get the magic robot that lives in his wheelchair to come up with a single explanation as to why the world needs some unemployed smart ass in Delaware to ramble on about such culturally important objects as the latest Tusco Embassy batch. BUT, if I am going to broadcast such rambles on the internets, I'm not going to ignore the fact that tapes comes with things like "covers" and "artwork". I don't know about you, but when I grip a new tape the first thing I see is the cover. If that shit looks stupid, is cut all jacked up, or comes in one of those stupid fucking sandwich baggies, then I am immediately like "come on, man". So, to not mention that would be pretty stupid, don't you agree? I see it as a whole package deal.

But you know what? That input actually really got me thinking. Got the old brain blades spinning in the head fan. So naturally, and this is what I assume the reader wanted, I got stoned and stared at tapes. No sounds in the room, just straight stared at, specifically, the spines of the cassettes chillin' out on the built-in bookcases over there (I'm pointing at them now). This went on for, I don't know... Ten minutes... An hour... I have a horrible sense of time. I did, however, have a blast rocking some spine-time.

One of the things that stuck out during the session was the transition of artwork over time for some labels, like the Catholic Tapes color to b&w move, and the more noticeable Excitebike transformation. I'm not rocking an extensive amount of the ExBx catalog, but what I do have displays a nice time line; Teens starting off with solid color paper, black printing, with the same bold font. Then, in ExBx mid-life, there is a switch to hand writing, a baby step to the jangly, sharpie seizure tags those slices got now. I know I've said in the past that a steady hand on the spines is the way to go, and I stand by that, but it's also cool to see artistic styles develop over time. Sure, I enjoy it when labels hold it homogeneous, but when they can slowly evolve a look over time and keep it cool, that is a nice track to take. Not that throwing it all over the place is a bad thing. I can totally get into a hodge podge flying out of HQs, as long as it's not thrown together with 0% care. One thing that will trip up the smooth vibes is if a label with a perpetual layout all of a sudden drops in a weirdo. It would be like a noise cassette Duck Duck Goose match. When someone finally yells "Goose" shit goes nuts, so I think science has proven me correct on that one. It's no longer an opinion, get it in the books. Oh, and I don't want to hear an excuse like you're using those flimsy cases so that is why your tapes don't have spines. I'm calling you out, Madak! That shit wont fly!!

I also dig when labels blaze some sort of logo in the same position on the spine every time. It keeps a solid consistency for my eyeballs to latch onto, acting like dominoes that don't domino anywhere. Domin-NOs. Maybe it's a primal urge to put shit in order that draws me to this feature. I can put all of my cassettes in one spot. Then take it a step further and put them into some sort of catalog order. Then I can go that extra step and put a bunch of tribal markings all in a row. It's beauty, and a rather calming exercise. I'm not saying it's going to make any tape sound better, but that's not what I'm talking about anyway.

Then you get fools that try to feed some blank shit!? What!? Now, that doesn't mean that tapes with blank spines can't be killers, all of the anonymous cassettes below are really good, but right away you're taking a back seat to those who identify themselves up front. When I go to grab something off the shelf with nothing in mind, just a random jam, I'm steady skipping over the unidentifiable bodies until I find something that sparks a match. Out of sight, out of mind. And when you're hidden in plain view, that's a whammy. Oh, first person to name all three tapes pictured below gets a prize.

Another random fact from spine-time not to miss out on: I stack all of my RRR Recycled tapes in color coordinated sections. I tried to mix and match, but that only lasted for about a day before I went crazy and had to change em back. I'm pretty stoked on the pink, green, and purple ones, but most of series I have are your standard gray. Then you have the A.H.P.N. recycled tape. The A.H.P.N. (not actually sure who that is) doesn't have duct tape at all, which is blasphemy in my book. When you think about recycled tapes, the duct tape is the first thing you think of... At least it is for me, second being thoughts about what 80's rock or country music is still intact under the new material. So what I'm saying is I almost want to get rid of that tape, just because it doesn't have the full treatment, or at least separate it from the pack until Ron is kind enough to send me a replacement. Visually, it's the ugly duckling of the group, but it's not even a swan. Just an ugly duck. The power of the spine. Brutal.

I'm running low on gas here, so I'm gonna call it a day. I have no doubts that people, if they even bother to read this, will find things to disagree with or think that what I said is simply fucking stupid. But one thing that I think we can all come together on is that this was, in no way at all, necessary. Now go, my friends, look at your spines before it is to late! (MAH)

Paid In Puke / Buckets Of Bile split C21 (Speed)

Being that their sounds ride on opposite sides of the spectrum, it would seem that the only binding factor between NJ's Paid In Puke and Brooklyn's Buckets Of Bile is the chunk blowing theme of their names. Being a person that often nerds out to such pairings, time to time conjuring up imaginary splits (off the top of the bean: Body Collector/Teeth Collection split C42, but I have thought of better ones, let me assure you of that), or being overly-into comps like the Free Beast cassette that Not Not Fun released a couple of years back (which was animal themed) I can totally get down with the vomit grouping that Speed Tapes put together.

P.I.P. starts off her side with a short sound collage. Sampling what I am guessing by the quality and beeps is an old record that came with a book, like those Disney or DC Comic read-along jams you had has a kid, she loops the quote "anything can become art" (the title of the track) with miscellaneous fragments of sentences. Case In Point, the other track, and what I'm assuming is her response to the previous statement, opens with a low rumble and a handful of tones going up in scale that lead into a feedback ruckus that sounds like C. Lavender (that is her name by the way) is going at a guitar like she is ripping weeds out of the ground. Or maybe she is using a weed whacker on the strings, either way the clamor is raw and grating. Every so often the babel allows strummed notes to peek out, but that is rare and just adds to the absolute mess. To over analyze Paid In Puke's side would be stupid. This is noise with no docket or road map. Good shit though.

Be prepared for a total change up once the tape is flipped, as Buckets Of Bile brings some earthy, indie-folk that I suppose could be compared to Amps For Christ or Gowns, though I admit upfront that I'm not all that familiar or greatly excited by the genre. I do think that Buckets does a great job with her three tracks (Broke The Mold, Solver, and My Viking Funeral) establishing some brittle and frolicsome emotions. Her vocals are delicate and flow excellently with the amoebic-psych vibes she dishes out. To over analyze Bucket Of Bile's side would be stupid. I simply don't have the credentials or road map. Good shit though.

The artwork continues the ralph motif, picturing the two ladies, arm in arm, heaving lunch all over the floor. It's done "tastefully" though, so don't be frightened by the description. I'm just wondering what freak out room they are hanging out in with a neon yellow padlocked door and glow-in-the-dark blue walls. I'd probably spew in that shack as well. And what the fuck is behind that door!? The paper/printing quality of the one panel j-card is top notch shit, and the green shell cassette (both artist's names written in gold pen on either side) adds to the vibrant color scheme. I actually might get sick just looking at it. This split was produced in an edition of 100 copies and currently available for $5.00 plus shipping. (MAH)

Pyroclastic Pontoon Quintet s/t C20 (Unverified)

The dude who runs Scumbag Tapes has oozed out material under several monikers; Tusk Mammoth and Skybirds being the two that I am familiar with. Pyroclastic Pontoon Quintet is another name to now be added to the list.

With the PPQ project flickering tones end up being the base sound, along with sci-fi warbles and waves that putter in the background. A $1.99 keyboard, lo-fi recording quality, and dense reverb makes this C20 quite the creepy-crawly ghost hunter, but somewhat "ehhh". Throughout side-A keys on the board get sporadic taps in an ultra light mist of sound. It's tranquilizing for sure, but pretty basic and bland. It's not vanilla, but maybe vanilla with a few sprinkles on top. Of course, some people just dig vanilla, even though ice cream technology has advanced so far since the 1700's. I just hate it when the poor saps behind the counter sing at you. Of course, I guess that is better then the one time I got ice cream at South Of The Border and the teens slinging cones were so utterly depressed that I thought they were going to slit their wrists all up in my mint chocolate chip.

I definitely found more interest with the track on side-B. Here, the solo quintet lays down a track of repeated clanging and streams of juxtaposing sounds like muddled crunch and rhythms that were so childlike and simple that they birthed a unique charm all of their own. It was a weird listen, which is a good thing I suppose. The material on this side would be more sherbet than ice cream... Purple. Orange. Lime. All melting on the sidewalk. Pyroclastic Pontoon Quintet (god, I wish I could remember the name of the Scumbag Tapes dude!!) basically lays down the airhead vibes that you gotta be in the mood to absorb. It's daydream magic that makes me tighten up the muscles in my legs trying to describe it, then loosen them up while spacing out to the sounds.

I wrote in the title that this was a C20, though that is a guesstimate. There seems to be a large amount of blank space at the ends of both sides, but the final results strap you into a 20 minute zone. Not the best recording quality, not the best jams, but there is definitely something to this tape. Not sure what it is just yet, but the fact that I can't wrap my brain around it makes me happy. The j-card is a black and white home-style print out, two panels with phone-it-in artwork that actually is just what this release needed. I'm glad Unverified didn't go with full color, glossy bull. It just wouldn't of made any sense (as if this tape "makes sense", whatever that means). Does anything make any sense right now? All I know is that this is still available form the label. I'm gonna say to buy it as soon as you can, but I have no clue why. Fuck, you gotta love it. (MAH)

Coldstream / VIKOMT split C60 (self released)

A message regarding the following review: I received an email from Jay Blanchard (VIKOMT) explaining that the version of the cassette I reviewed here was part of a fucked up batch of dubs and a large chunk of the material was cut off on both sides. The correct version of the cassette actually has 29 minutes of material by both artists.

This bi-continental split C60 arrived late last week and features two solo artists; United Kingdom's Coldstream (who's proper name I can't seem to track down) and VIKOMT who resides in The States (who's proper name is Jay Blanchard).

Coldstream offers up three dim, ambient drone pieces, none of which really separate themselves from the pack. Throughout all of them, clouded guitar tones idle out, sometimes over what may possibly be field recordings of some sort, but with little to no identity behind any of it. In fact, when the last track was clipped off prematurely I thought that I may have just listened to the same material three times and not even noticed. Which brings up the fact that the final Coldstream track cuts off midstream with TONS of blank space at the end. Maybe it was just a flaw with my copy, but it sure made for an awkward end to things. The recording quality is also a bit sub par, leading to a wheeziness that may of been what Coldsteam was going for, but sounds overly "out of focus" and bland. I just can't get into it, no sir.

VIKOMT gets into the same style of droning guitar lushness, but has a sound that is much crisper and textured. Though nothing mind blowing is going on with this Vermonter's side either, there is definitely a better use of layers and audio ingredients as Blanchard gradually mixes in warbles, vocal hushes, and mildly harsh electronics to the background of his steadily looping placidness. You get two track on this side that make for decent background music, but again, they tape seems to cut off with a large amount of nothing juicing out of the speakers. Really makes you wonder why this is a C60.

I can't really say a hell of a lot about the packaging for this bad boy either as the one panel j-card with gray scale artwork is pretty boring and uninspiring. The cover has a sort of surface of the moon thing going on with diagonal bars in black and white, the artist's names in reverse colors on those bars. The white shell cassettes have similar black and white labels on both sides, and actually look pretty nice, but I don't think that is enough to turn this dishwater into Brita. The split is currently available from either artist. (MAH)

Face Worker "Ocean/Haze" C10 & "Deforestation/Building of a Dam" C20 (Catholic)

A double dose here (sold separately) from the man who calls the shots over at Catholic HQ, Brett Naucke. Brett's assorted endeavors include Exercise (along with Arbor Rec's Mike Pollard, the only dude around who has apparently never played Super Mario Bros.) and the (now defunct??) crew Druids Of Huge. Face Worker, however, is a solo dive into deep mystic waters with the latest offerings floating ashore being those on the "Ocean/Haze" C10 and "Deforestation/Building of a Dam" C20. Like I said, these don't come together as a double tape or anything like that and need to be snagged individually. But shit, both cassettes more than deserve a shout out, plus the consistent flow as far as artwork and music goes has kept these twins present and alternating in my listening cycle.

Going in chronological order puts "Ocean/Haze" (035) first in line. It's somewhat condensed 10 minute length keeps the play time brief, but these two quickies waste no time at all getting the party going. Coming from a guy who can't remember the last 7" he bought, this material would be worth the wax for sure. The quavering synth blankets on the A-side play like Brian Eno's more ethereal shit; fully outstretched and almost melancholy. In fact, for those not familiar with Neil Gaiman's BBC series Neverwhere, check it out now and tell me this couldn't have been Eno's back up for the theme song. Go ahead, I'll wait... Ocean, I suppose it's called, has a cloud nine flow that I could have relaxed on for days. Haze didn't hold up as tightly, but was still a totally sweet expo of pensive, experimental music. Still ambient with an ethereal cascade of analog sweetness, but with an element I can't quit put my finger on. If I said it was "German" would anyone know what I meant? Like, I could see a German, most likely with excellent posture, playing this in a dark, depressing room. Moogs stacked from ass to elbows and a shirt buttoned up to the collar. Just check it out.

The inaugural notes of "Deforestation/Building of a Dam" (037) are more playful and jittery. For starters, Brett dispenses some fantasy-filled tones while crystallized loops that bend and break in volume. It's an lavishes and animated ride that plays out through most of the side. Towards the end, all sounds dissolve into an oceanic drone that slowly churns out, sparse static-rich flicks and flutters popping up in the background. TBOAD gets a bit more into the sci-fi state that Brett was partying with on Haze. Naucke gets pastel pulses buzzing out like computers in a movie about 2010 that was filmed in 1969. The circling opus of majorly frail and graceful shimmers sound like what Christmas lights look like. It's a keen jam, but maybe my least favorite out of the bunch. I guess there just wasn't as much diversity overall, but it's all relative, isn't it?

Both cassette tapes are clear with labels on the A-sides that match the cover art, which I think I'll call psychedelic nature themed. The j-cards are two panels with heavy hues, and that shit goes great with the high flying audio. Excellent production value on both as well, making for two great tapes, though I'm not sure on the edition or availability. (MAH)

Chapels "Last Night Of The Earth" C30 (Stunned)

Adam Richards, who runs the House Of Alchemy record label, is the man behind the nom de guerre Chapels. The name doesn't ring a bell for me, but it appears that Adam has been dishing out bits here and there, mostly on his home turf of H.O.A., and now with this C30 on Stunned Records. "Last Night Of The Earth" is four croaked clangers that were recorded last October and November.

75% of the jams crop up on the A-side, the welcome mat of those being Inhale, an extremely brief rasp of open-air chops. And when I say brief, I mean it. Do not blink or you're gonna miss it like the guy trying to be discreet about picking his nose in the car next to you. Pretty much a quick, corrugated contact mic ride around a mixing bowl. Not to much to say about the opener, but She Came Bearing Blood Flowers has much more personality to it. This eerie little ditty begins by bouncing layers of diseased cat calls and fragments of unstable clamor off of each other until it all forms into a rhythmic mold. It's a cold clash of sound that births a pattern of alarming thuds, yelping howls, and aerial notes. The track navigates it's way through harsher territories, but the whole time it maintains that primitive feeling brought on by the basement-style recording and tribal (future-tribal??) loops. Richards rounds up the side with Another Lost Night, taking on more of a frost bitten, oozed out teeth-clencher. The echos of super loose strings and/or makeshift drum heads unravel in the background with a menacing quality while sewer sounds dribble off the magnetic tape like slime. A hand full of thunderous explosions bring the track, and the first side of "Last Night Of The Earth" to a satisfying close.

The loner track on side B, Beggar, is where Chapels makes sure this cassette is going to be a keeper. The tones are pitch black and peel open in slow motion. An angelic assortment of clouded out vocal chants and church organ sighs join the dark drone, unfolding in the same haunted style. It's an exorcism that gathers steam as it goes, creating a cool yet creepy mood. My only complaint are the times when things get to overwhelming, causing peaks in the sound the come out crumbled and gnarly. Bottom line, though, is that Beggar was one hell of a jam.

Judging by this j-card, and those of a few of the other Stunned releases that I have in front of me, I would say that the label either snagged a round cornering machine from a craft store, or die cuts their covers. Either way, the outcome is really nice and clean looking. The artwork itself here is double sided with lots of reds and oranges and is extra simple; unedited shots of skies and skylines with type writer text pasted over. Looks stunning (how appropriate) and goes well with the red foil tapes. Gotta say, I'm stoked to have heard Chapels and his crypt sleeping brand of goodness. (MAH)

America Reads "The Yellow Wallpaper" 1-sided recycled cassette (Total Recall)

Not much information is out there on them danged internets about this ambient project, America Reads. In fact, I didn't really find word one surrounding this droner or his recycled tape "The Yellow Wallpaper", which clocks in at a one-sided total of 24 minutes. All I have to go on is a name (R. Lloyd Mason - sounds like a wealthy industrialist of some kind) and the steady spew of quivering, bubbled synth purr that is offered.

This tape comes in true DIY fashion, meaning screened artwork on thick paper, and what appears to be a hand painted tape who's original persona was that of an instructional relaxation/meditation journey. One of the sides was left intact and I actually gave the soft spoken guide a chance to sooth me out... Worked pretty nicely, but the proposed assuagement was that of Mason's tonal massage. What was described in a letter that accompanied this cassette as "the sounds of one serious insomniac's late-night voyages w/ modular synth and tape loops..." turned out to be a good representation of just that. The sweeping of sound starts off persistent and sedated, only being disrupted by scoffs of crackled noise here and there. Mason brings you into an anodyne state during the first leg of this cassette, holding down the fort with dense, rich slugs of drone and fluid tones. It all had me wondering how this dude wasn't getting any rest time in, but then things started to change up just slightly. While the atmosphere of torpid crush still wound through the room, rhythmic clunking of drafty loops and disordered pulses eventually work their way in. The adjustment didn't sit well with me, and shuffled everything into a mess. A moderate mess, but still a mood-altering end to the jam. I really enjoyed the slow synthsations of America Reads, but attempts of fucking with that aura just didn't jive.

A nice tape, but in the end, a lack of focus did it in. Still an interesting and honest late-night jam. I wouldn't turn down a listen-to from America Reads in the future. 35 copies were made and interested parties should contact rlloydmason@gmail.com. (MAH)