Friday Night Noise: In the Land of Archers' Misanthropic Crud; Venison Whirled's Piercing Tonal Halos
In The Land Of Archers "I Am The Monster That Walks On All Fours": Friday Night Noise is not even gonna try to decipher this Houston crew's web site - which suggests that they're still a going thing despite being entrenched in different projects - because we're way more interested in talking about the unhinged lunatic noise they're capable of making. (Hint: this is a prime opportunity for clued-in readers to get us - and everyone else - up to speed in the comments.) "I Am The Monster That Walks On All Fours," sounds, basically, like a softened splice-edit of a recording of someone taking a bandsaw to a big-screen television playing videotape of demon-possessed whackjobs wilding out on shrooms at a sinister campsite, with demented guitar feedback piped in for good measure. Got all that? The crime, here, is that "Monster" is only three fucking minutes long, and we're not ashamed to say that we could happily and contentedly do with a full hour of this kinda misanthropic crud, which is like Coldplay for psych-ward patients or Wire Orchestra gone completely haywire.
Venison Whirled "Live in Charlottesville, 2007": Venison Whirled is Austin's Lisa Cameron, and this live recording is arresting in an interesting way, given its context. First, you can't hear the audience at all until the end, when there's a sparse spattering of applause. No ringing cell phones, no idle chit-chat, no raucous hyena laughter from a bar off at the back, nada - almost as if, in fact, there were no audience. This suggests, to FNN, that the assembled were giving Cameron's ultra-minimalism their complete attention, which is crucial for this sort of oh-so-incremental-it's-sinister performance, where a bass drum (at first we mistook it for a gong) is ever-so-slooooooowly pounded and gradually joined by not-quite-piercing tonal halos that lap and crest without actually washing anybody away. Got some hot Texas noise tips - or, hell, any noise tips - for us? Hit FNN up with MP3s or Web site links - but not MySpace links, seriously, because we can't access those at work and at home every spare moment is spoken for - at firstname.lastname@example.org. No, for real, seriously, guys.
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