Showing posts with label Cruudeuces. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cruudeuces. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Isa Christ/Cruudeuces - Human Error (Ghetto Naturalist Series/Idiot Underground, 2010)


The majority of the noise/generally harsher music that I stumble upon happens to suffer from monotony generated by the overabundance of dissonance. This factor also causes the music to lack any hint of variation or depth. Such is not the case with the dank, churning ten minutes to come of this pairing of East Coast projects Isa Christ and Cruudeuces entitled Human Error.

Isa's side-long piece "Ruin Song" begins with no needed introduction into a swampy abyss of relentless buzzing and squealing that emphasizes the mid and low frequencies. The tones provided throughout are constantly changing, and make it really difficult to identify what the source instrument is; at times it resembles a microphone or a guitar put through various effects pedals, and at others it seems as if Isa is using some piece of arcane machinery to create these sounds. One bit of information is certain though, and that is the fact that "Ruin Song" foretells what is to come of the following five minutes.

Cruudeuces's side "Gull Slang" is equally as unsettling as its predecessor, though in a much more progressive context. Beginning with a pulsating tapping, it empties itself into a thick swamp of hums and cries created by processed clarinet. For the most part, the tones are sustained, and overlapping to create an eerie, minor-key howl. About half way through, the bugle being played underneath the loop sputters and screams, leading to an ear-piercing conclusion. Although clarity may be more eminent here, Cruudeuces's side still encompasses the heavy dose of murk that seems to be the theme of Human Error.

Aptly represented by the artwork, Human Error is dark, ominous, and shrouded in distortion. Both contributors each offer a sound that seems unheard of in experimental music that is both engaging and horrifying, in some ways. The 7" format is also a perfect choice for this split, considering that these pieces are both five minutes in length, they never seem harshly overwhelming or monotonous. Human Error serves as a perfect introduction to both artists, and could be a breath of fresh air for those in need of a punishing auditory experience.

[Isa Christ Myspace]
[Cruudeuces Myspace]
[Buy Human Error from Ghetto Naturalist Series/Idiot Underground]

Monday, April 12, 2010

Gii/Cruudeuces - Split (Ghetto Naturalist Series, 2010)


The Ghetto Naturalist Series is a recently started label run by Nathaniel Brennan (Cruudeuces), and one of it's most recent efforts is this c30 split between Cruudeuces and recent newcomer Gii. The artwork and packaging are both excellent, but all the printing seems a bit pixelated. Other than that, this tape is absolutely superb.

Gii's side was a bit of a surprise to me as I was expecting speaker pushing organ drones covered up by morphing walls of static (more in the vein of Gii's free album Lavender), but what I got was a bit slower of a sound. Lots of reverb soaked scrapes and, yes, that classic Gii organ churning away in the background. This tape reminds me a bit of a scene in the movie 2012 (if you saw it I'm very sorry for you). The world is ending and an old black piano player on a cruise ship learns about it before the waves hit the boat. He spends his last moments alive playing piano while the ship is sinking. As Gii's organ drones on, playing otherwise beautiful melodies, the atmosphere of the track is assaulted by noise and scum.

Cruudeuces is unrelenting in the misery this tape brings. While his side is way less noisy, it's just as brutal and despondent. Feedback squeals and low-end rumble bring a dreadful mood to the table, and by the time they've worked themselves into your head, more clattering and scraping synth sounds show up to punish you. This tape is most certainly not for the faint at heart, but a highly enjoyable, though somewhat nerve-racking listening experience. I wish it was longer.

[Cruudeuces Myspace]