cover imageI have long had a theory that cold and miserable climates produce the best art and music, but the Canadian underground (aside from Skinny Puppy) has never played a serious role in my record collection.  Nevertheless, there is a small but flourishing scene of people there making appropriately hostile and abrasive music, and this debut release from the fledgling Prairie Fire Tapes label is an ear-shredding first step towards making the rest of the world notice it.

 

Prairie Fire Tapes

The two artists on this split cassette both traffic in post-Merzbow white noise sculpting, but they somehow manage to sound wildly different.  Chris Jacques’ White Dog project fills the first side with “Samsara,” which sounds like a slow-motion earthquake.  The piece is built upon a deep subterranean rumble, but Jacques slowly engulfs the low roar with wave after wave of static.  The washes are quite muted though, creating an atmosphere of barely stifled turbulence.  It is a restrained piece, but an effective one, though it seems like some of its power may have been lost in the transition from performance to cassette.  I expect that when it is experienced at an appropriate volume in a live setting, the shuddering low end would be a transcendently engulfing and innard-rattling force.

The second half of this 32-minute tape belongs to Cole Peters' Gomeisa, a performance that the tape’s description promises to be “as subtle as a car bombing at a pre-school.”  While perhaps unnecessarily colorful, it is an apt characterization.  “Blood Letting” begins with a thick electronic buzz, before quickly imploding into a deafening roar of harsh static chaos periodically punctuated by squawks of piercing feedback.  This won’t be unfamiliar territory to anyone that has heard Venereology, but it is impressively, viscerally violent.  Peters harnesses the brutal cascade quite skillfully throughout, pausing periodically for brief teasing oases of calm amidst the menacing maelstrom of ugliness.  While seemingly a small thing, it is precisely such an understanding of dynamics that separates vibrant noise works from boring ones.  "Blood Letting" is not one of the boring ones.

As far as noise tapes go, this is quite a satisfying one.  Neither White Dog nor Gomeisa stray very far from already heavily covered stylistic ground, but both artists set about their work in a very focused and bluntly powerful way.    Trends come and go, but sheer crushing force will always be able to find a receptive audience somehow.  Heaviness has an undeniable and timeless appeal.

 (Note- despite my best remastering efforts, the mp3 samples below sound much murkier than the actual tape.)

Samples:

 


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