COMING IN WINTER. Krim Kram’s single-CD reissue of the limited edition 3in-CDR series contains all four 18-minute tracks: “Bygone Baguette Mailboxes of French Polynesia,” “Tremendous Pace of Melt,” “That’s My Deathbed,” and “Attract and Reproduce.” With inserts reproducing original artwork.
Coming in 2023.
Six long droneur manqué tracks get to the bottom of the mystical aspects behind time-lapsed refrigerator attrition, the brotherhood of forlorn balloon animal guys, and the difference between getting carved up in tandoori hell and having to scrape chicken-meat from under the fingernails. Throughout the group's low-key but tension-infused screech, looping theremin, synthesizer, guitar, and toy instruments roil to be heard in malignant EQ baths of malfunctioning peptide and degenerate serums of unknown origin. Anonymous voice montages are silhouetted against the fading light of gut health. Murky blobs in oblong landscapes suggest gastrointestinal dusk. It's a 60-minute kaleidoscope of doom expectorant, in which nausea becomes an abstract expression of the afterlife, basically, the opposite of a perky restoratif.
Coming in 2024.
Ignoring what anyone else would take to be sound advice about not licking the new paintings, Malcy Duff, Ali Robertson, Lucian Tielens and Gnarlos expose the links between entertainment and carnage on this trans-Atlantic nothing-but-objects collaboration. The Yankee mutants deploy selections from their library of field recordings collected at thrift stores and the kind of supermarkets where pre-shredded cheese sealed in plastic with visible mold and blood is marketed as “spicy,” while the Scots highlanders, cramming in this one last spatula adventure at plaid Disneyland before retiring from ahem “music,” use their genius understanding of scrapes and rubs to convert them into birdcalls of the migratory forklift operator and Eleusinian plainchant.