Unlicensed “warez” of music production software have existed for well over a decade, initially traded by impoverished young musicians eager to express themselves. Yet in the same way that the concept of Napster exploded into the multi-channel bootleg phenomenon bringing the music business to its knees, so too has the appropriation of that ethos come to those who wish to make music. And while I lack any proof of Zeller’s complicity in the aforementioned illegal behavior, his place in this generation of thieves is cemented by this unbearably jejune and hackneyed debut.
Much like Bomb 20's unparalleled proto-breakcore classic Field Manual, released a decade prior, the suitably named Audio Vandalism egregiously swipes long passages from films and television programs to bolster his album. Yet unlike the Digital Hardcore zealot, Zeller's wholesale appropriation lacks the former's vibrant anarchist spirit that transformed disparate speech samples into fresh linguistic conversions and distillations not unlike William Burroughs' cut-up method. In its stead lie a novice producer’s desperate attempts to fill in yawning gaps of his unexceptional, indistinct tracks. Buried under the weight of an excessive break overstuffed with generic movie dialogue, "Thor Theory" serves as the most glaring example of this half-assedness. While one could generously credit Zeller with upholding the sampling traditions of 80s and 90s industrialists, the material here suffers from such a dearth of originality that I cannot, in good conscience, even offer that consolation prize to such colorless, unsubstantial sonics.
Regrettably, the mad borrowing doesn't end there. Zeller's derivative sound loots the marketplace of musical ideas, pilfering from distorted dubsteppers like Milanese and Vex'd (“Hell Train”) and mugging IDM elders whose names need not be mentioned to drive home my point. It's difficult to draw a line between influence and exploitation, but like former Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart wrote about pornography, I know it when I see it. In this case, I hear it in “Cavern Sunshine” and “Macbooking,” poorly executed facsimiles of distorto-glitch gods Gridlock and Synapscape respectively. Even the tribal rhythms of This Morn Omina get ripped off on closer "Doom The Drummer." I find it especially distasteful that, after all this time, power noise painted itself into such a corner that Hymen would release something this obnoxious and plagiaristic. Someone ought to inform Zeller that talent cannot be downloaded, legally or illegally. I suppose I just did.
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