More info:
Interview with Paste Magazine.
Purchasing information here.
Lhasa - Lhasa (2011)
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Lhasa
Expat duo based out of Busan. Though working simply with guitar, drums, and a laptop, these guys deftly manage to expand the dreamy guitar loops that begin most songs in to a wall of layered sound and percussion that bands twice their size would struggle to achieve. Also one of a handful of bands who are helping to define the up and coming independent music scene in Korea.
More info:
Interview with Paste Magazine.
Purchasing information here.
Lhasa - Lhasa (2011)
More info:
Interview with Paste Magazine.
Purchasing information here.
Lhasa - Lhasa (2011)
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
1 + 0 = (((10)))
In case, like me, you can't get enough of these guys, here are their two most recent albums. Kitsch is probably one of their best releases to date and in regards to Natureplex...
"Yes, Natureplex. We released this album, and met the big big big power of nature. It was sad, we are so small and weak in front of the nature. But we can express the nature with heart."
I couldn't agree more. I also have included a short clip I took at the February release show for the album. Enjoy!
Kitsch (Maybe Mars, 2009)
Natureplex (Self-release, 2011)
*Kitsch may be purchased here or on iTunes.
**Natureplex may be purchased here.
"Yes, Natureplex. We released this album, and met the big big big power of nature. It was sad, we are so small and weak in front of the nature. But we can express the nature with heart."
I couldn't agree more. I also have included a short clip I took at the February release show for the album. Enjoy!
Kitsch (Maybe Mars, 2009)
Natureplex (Self-release, 2011)
*Kitsch may be purchased here or on iTunes.
**Natureplex may be purchased here.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
RELAY
RELAY was the free improvisation concert series from the spring of 2005 to the autumn of 2008 in Seoul, South Korea. This album is a document of 10 of those performances. Below, I have included some selected excerpts from the liner notes by Hong Chulki, one of the founding members. These selections not only give some idea about how the participants understood their art specifically and improvisational/noise music in general, but also illustrates some of the difficulties facing "unconventional" artists in Korea hoping to create a community for themselves with next to no precedent.
----------
"So we decided to start our own free improvisation meeting; Hankil [Ryu Hankil] introduced us, Jin Sangtae, who was making music out of radio, harddrive and fluorescent lamp, and Bonnie Jones of English [England] stayed in Seoul and collaborated with us from time to time then. The first RELAY meeting was on 18 March 2005. We had two things in our mind; aesthetically speaking, we wanted monthly improvisation concert more concentrated on making music (I still call it music) out of non-musical sound/noise, or even interaction with something extra-aural, the visual; regarding out artistic lives, RELAY's main goal was to build a sustaining network among improvisers and experimental musicians domestic and abroad. We thought that this kind of networking is not only beneficial to building a scene in Seoul but also crucial for maintaining our own activities in the long run. Hankil's pains for the government grants reception was for this objective and he eventually succeeded in 2006 so that we could invite musicians outside South Korea (but the thing are different now when it comes to the Korean government's cultural policies).
I suppose, it was the interests in 'the sound as such,' which didn't presuppose any musical ends, that led us to the free improvisation. Or course, this was not an inclination to the original and natural sound at all; it even opposed to that. When we decided to use cheap second hand electronics and devices like CD players, hard-drives, clockworks, amp heads, guitar pickups and circuit-boards of delay pedals, it was no longer an option to either represent these hi-end sounds or play music in conventional meaning. [Sampling could be another alternative. But in this sort music these machines become the sound sources and the sampler/sequencer (or laptop) becomes the instrument.] For us, free improvisation was the (in)determinate way of discover/invent the new musical language proper to those 'non-instrumental' instruments. The improvisational collaboration was the main part of the rest of the possibilities we experienced. From my viewpoint collective improvisation is, if at least potentially, the excellent site of musical exchange (and even artistic education in some sense) and the complete work of art at the same time. This completeness might amount to the complexity that is not subjected to the initial appreciation through the records (just like these discs). However, is it the identical completeness lacking in the non-improvisational recordings, that can leave more room, indeterminacy, or even rights for the listeners to interpret and determine the constellation of timbres and temporalities without associational and referential imagination? Can't it be another source of sonic pleasure?
Then, what were the limits we couldn't overcome? Primarily, the government grants; it meant both chances and constraints. Inviting the musicians abroad and organizing the concerts became possible only after the RELAY's application forms were accepted. However, sort of 'genre politics' inside the music scene both 'academic and popular' forced Hankil to apply for the fields of 'media art' or 'sound art' (especially since 2007). For those who were from the cultural policy-maker to our colleague indie musicians, we seemed to belong to somewhere outside the musical field. In my opinion, their idea of distinction between music and non-music, art and non-art, or academic music and popular music is so established that they left little room to recognize such activities as RELAY. Although we were into the pleasure of improvising sound and noise rather than the questioning of these imaginary boundaries, we had to experience the exclusiveness in several occasions, from domestic review of our CD releases to renting venues for concert. In Hankil's words, 'we has been independent even from the independent music scene.' This is not just about complaining or whining. We may be too impatient not only for the circumstances but also for what we have done. There's not much sign of scene-formation or development on the local level. Few audience and rare new comers.
Obviously, in some sense, the situation has worsened. In particular, the new South Korean administration's neoliberal (and even neoconservative) agenda, in times of world scale decline of neoliberalism as such, has perfectly reflected in its cultural policies and influences people like us with small independent activities. It would be unrealistic if the government is expected to support the entire cultural activities. But it will be equally ridiculous if the government only subsidizes the organizations with scale, popularity and recognition for competitiveness and profitability in the name of the free market (or even the organization that shows the ideological allegiance to the government). I am quite sure that this set of policies will not be successful in the long run, but it is a part of our reality for now and, nevertheless, we should keep on experimenting."
----------
RELAY: Archive 2007-2008
*Full list of artists may be found here.
**Extensive archival audio/video footage may be found here.
----------
"So we decided to start our own free improvisation meeting; Hankil [Ryu Hankil] introduced us, Jin Sangtae, who was making music out of radio, harddrive and fluorescent lamp, and Bonnie Jones of English [England] stayed in Seoul and collaborated with us from time to time then. The first RELAY meeting was on 18 March 2005. We had two things in our mind; aesthetically speaking, we wanted monthly improvisation concert more concentrated on making music (I still call it music) out of non-musical sound/noise, or even interaction with something extra-aural, the visual; regarding out artistic lives, RELAY's main goal was to build a sustaining network among improvisers and experimental musicians domestic and abroad. We thought that this kind of networking is not only beneficial to building a scene in Seoul but also crucial for maintaining our own activities in the long run. Hankil's pains for the government grants reception was for this objective and he eventually succeeded in 2006 so that we could invite musicians outside South Korea (but the thing are different now when it comes to the Korean government's cultural policies).
I suppose, it was the interests in 'the sound as such,' which didn't presuppose any musical ends, that led us to the free improvisation. Or course, this was not an inclination to the original and natural sound at all; it even opposed to that. When we decided to use cheap second hand electronics and devices like CD players, hard-drives, clockworks, amp heads, guitar pickups and circuit-boards of delay pedals, it was no longer an option to either represent these hi-end sounds or play music in conventional meaning. [Sampling could be another alternative. But in this sort music these machines become the sound sources and the sampler/sequencer (or laptop) becomes the instrument.] For us, free improvisation was the (in)determinate way of discover/invent the new musical language proper to those 'non-instrumental' instruments. The improvisational collaboration was the main part of the rest of the possibilities we experienced. From my viewpoint collective improvisation is, if at least potentially, the excellent site of musical exchange (and even artistic education in some sense) and the complete work of art at the same time. This completeness might amount to the complexity that is not subjected to the initial appreciation through the records (just like these discs). However, is it the identical completeness lacking in the non-improvisational recordings, that can leave more room, indeterminacy, or even rights for the listeners to interpret and determine the constellation of timbres and temporalities without associational and referential imagination? Can't it be another source of sonic pleasure?
Then, what were the limits we couldn't overcome? Primarily, the government grants; it meant both chances and constraints. Inviting the musicians abroad and organizing the concerts became possible only after the RELAY's application forms were accepted. However, sort of 'genre politics' inside the music scene both 'academic and popular' forced Hankil to apply for the fields of 'media art' or 'sound art' (especially since 2007). For those who were from the cultural policy-maker to our colleague indie musicians, we seemed to belong to somewhere outside the musical field. In my opinion, their idea of distinction between music and non-music, art and non-art, or academic music and popular music is so established that they left little room to recognize such activities as RELAY. Although we were into the pleasure of improvising sound and noise rather than the questioning of these imaginary boundaries, we had to experience the exclusiveness in several occasions, from domestic review of our CD releases to renting venues for concert. In Hankil's words, 'we has been independent even from the independent music scene.' This is not just about complaining or whining. We may be too impatient not only for the circumstances but also for what we have done. There's not much sign of scene-formation or development on the local level. Few audience and rare new comers.
Obviously, in some sense, the situation has worsened. In particular, the new South Korean administration's neoliberal (and even neoconservative) agenda, in times of world scale decline of neoliberalism as such, has perfectly reflected in its cultural policies and influences people like us with small independent activities. It would be unrealistic if the government is expected to support the entire cultural activities. But it will be equally ridiculous if the government only subsidizes the organizations with scale, popularity and recognition for competitiveness and profitability in the name of the free market (or even the organization that shows the ideological allegiance to the government). I am quite sure that this set of policies will not be successful in the long run, but it is a part of our reality for now and, nevertheless, we should keep on experimenting."
----------
RELAY: Archive 2007-2008
*Full list of artists may be found here.
**Extensive archival audio/video footage may be found here.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
(((10)))
10, now officially (((10))), is a Seoul-based experimental electronic duo. Drawing equally from keytarist/sound manipulator Marqido's noise background (he's Japanese, what do you expect?) and vocalist/keyboardist/quirky sound maker (bird whistles, deflating balloon loops, etc.) Itta's electronic/pop-based work, (((10))) frequently moves back and forth between piercing feedback, danceable electro-pop, and droned-out synth loops. The highlight of it all is Itta's vocal work, which she comfortably adapts to the changes in the music - at times cute, at times powerful, at times trance-inducing. Their integration of electronic beats and drone, combined with Itta's mesmerizing vocals, brings to mind groups like Excepter and more recent Growing. While a bit of their more experimental tendencies have been sacrificed on the recorded output in favor of tighter, song-based structure, the albums are none-the-less enjoyable, unique, and alot of fun. I really can't stress how much I dig these guys. Here is an early self-release and their first official release. Enjoy!
UFO (2007)
UFO (2007)
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Seoul Transmissions 2.0!
Although the 'Seoul Transmissions' name will stick, as this blog was started during my time in Seoul, it will now focus on presenting various types of music from the Northeast Asian region and, if we want to draw a deeper meaning out of it (probably shouldn't try...), the deeply interconnected nature of the region (for better and worse) that is occasionally reflected through that music.
So I think the best way to inaugurate my return to the blog and renewed focus on solely music is to provide the blogosphere with access to one of the most criminally underrated punk bands out of Japan, the Blue Hearts. Why not start with a Korean band? I certainly have alot of music I would like to share at some point, but the Blue Hearts were one of the first bands that made me realize you don't necessarily need to understand what a band is saying to feel a connection to their music. They are often referred to as the "Japanese Clash", and indeed such song titles as 'Punk Rock' (about just what you might think it would be about) evidence the conscious continuation of a tradition that started before them. Yet they also bring a truly unique interpretation of punk that generally strays away from the narcissism, pessimism and misanthropy that can often be found within the music (although, again, a bit like the Clash I suppose). The songs on these first three albums are alot of fun; they carry a visceral mood of youthful enthusiasm and passion. Lead singer Kōmoto Hiroto constantly looks like he is about to burst; his maniacal glare and trademark tongue action helped lead the band to immense popularity in Japan. Some of the most catchy songs are simple love tracks ('A Star Please', 'I Want a Kiss', 'Linda-Linda'). The band, however, wasn't naive. Quite to the contrary - they were banned from T.V. for criticizing nuclear energy ('Chernobyl'), critical of war ('When the Bombs Fall'), and aware of the dangers of apathy ('The Future Is in Our Hands'). While the 1st album is certainly the best, both the 2nd and 3rd albums find the band experimenting with their sound a bit more (blues, some occasional horns, a polka-like track about eating, etc.) while still on a whole retaining the raw energy that makes the 1st such a classic. After the 3rd album, however, the experimenting takes its toll and most of the remainder of their output isn't worth pursuing. Anyway, I think I might do better to end this here and let the music speak for itself. 僕、パンク・ロックが好きだ。
(Tracks in original Japanese; refer to above Wikipedia link for translations.)
The Blue Hearts (1987)
So I think the best way to inaugurate my return to the blog and renewed focus on solely music is to provide the blogosphere with access to one of the most criminally underrated punk bands out of Japan, the Blue Hearts. Why not start with a Korean band? I certainly have alot of music I would like to share at some point, but the Blue Hearts were one of the first bands that made me realize you don't necessarily need to understand what a band is saying to feel a connection to their music. They are often referred to as the "Japanese Clash", and indeed such song titles as 'Punk Rock' (about just what you might think it would be about) evidence the conscious continuation of a tradition that started before them. Yet they also bring a truly unique interpretation of punk that generally strays away from the narcissism, pessimism and misanthropy that can often be found within the music (although, again, a bit like the Clash I suppose). The songs on these first three albums are alot of fun; they carry a visceral mood of youthful enthusiasm and passion. Lead singer Kōmoto Hiroto constantly looks like he is about to burst; his maniacal glare and trademark tongue action helped lead the band to immense popularity in Japan. Some of the most catchy songs are simple love tracks ('A Star Please', 'I Want a Kiss', 'Linda-Linda'). The band, however, wasn't naive. Quite to the contrary - they were banned from T.V. for criticizing nuclear energy ('Chernobyl'), critical of war ('When the Bombs Fall'), and aware of the dangers of apathy ('The Future Is in Our Hands'). While the 1st album is certainly the best, both the 2nd and 3rd albums find the band experimenting with their sound a bit more (blues, some occasional horns, a polka-like track about eating, etc.) while still on a whole retaining the raw energy that makes the 1st such a classic. After the 3rd album, however, the experimenting takes its toll and most of the remainder of their output isn't worth pursuing. Anyway, I think I might do better to end this here and let the music speak for itself. 僕、パンク・ロックが好きだ。
(Tracks in original Japanese; refer to above Wikipedia link for translations.)
The Blue Hearts (1987)
Saturday, April 2, 2011
So It's Been a While...
It's funny how the little things make all the difference...
It is Friday night around 11:30. Needless to say, the mere fact that I am sitting home at this time of the day, this day of the week, says something about my mood. At times, living abroad can take a toll on you. I think this is particularly applicable in East Asia (although East Asia is the only place I have actually traveled to). There are numerous factors that lead me to this belief: difference of language, difference of race, difference of culture, etc. And even in attempting to keep the most positive of attitudes, it is unavoidable that, on the occasion, frustration, exhaustion, and apathy will create a perfect storm, if you will, that just makes you want to say, "fuck it". And this, ultimately, is why I am spending my evening at home with some shitty Korean beer and a large bottle(s) of soju.
The point of this post, however, is not to bitch or complain. It is actually quite the opposite. Feeling the need to actually step out of the house this evening, albeit simply to purchase more alcohol, I had a small encounter that turned my negative feelings on their head. In fact, these sort of interactions are things I've experienced quite often. Yet for some reason on this particular night, on this particular interaction, I felt the need to revive my dormant blog.
What I will describe is nothing dramatic and, frankly, considering all the fantastic blogging that is taking place right now, now even worthy or blogging about. Yet a certain "perfect storm" (again, if you will) of emotions leads me to want to write this. I simply went to the local grocers, grabbed a 6-pack and a bottle of soju, made my way to the counter, and checked out. Nothing out of the ordinary, right? This is a grocers I go to quite frequently however, and have been since I first arrived here roughly 8 months ago. There is a usual woman who works the counter and she always greets me with a smile; she always is quite accommodating to my less-than-spectacular Korean skills. And tonight, to top it off, she asked, "Name? Your name?" A simple question, but a question that acknowledges me as not only a consistent and respectful customer, but a person. And frankly, at times, it can be easy to forget that you are a real person as a foreigner in Korean society. Don't get me wrong, I have met many fantastic people here that have been kind, considerate, and accommodating. Yet the generic questions and constant superficial, "keeping-you-at-a-distance" interactions that foreigners inevitably experience, again and again, day in and day out, certainly take their toll. But what has, and continues, to give me strength during the tough times abroad are these simple interactions. They not only encourage me to continue forging through this unique experience, they not only encourage me to keep studying a place, a society, and a people I am truly passionate about, but they also give me hope in humanity as a whole.
On a separate note, I have a great deal of music that I feel should be shared with people outside of not only Seoul, but Korea, East Asia, and the world in general. So I plan to (on a consistent basis!) upload files in an attempt to fulfill at least one original purpose of this blog and, more importantly, communicate the original, innovative, and passionate music that is being created outside of the West.
It is Friday night around 11:30. Needless to say, the mere fact that I am sitting home at this time of the day, this day of the week, says something about my mood. At times, living abroad can take a toll on you. I think this is particularly applicable in East Asia (although East Asia is the only place I have actually traveled to). There are numerous factors that lead me to this belief: difference of language, difference of race, difference of culture, etc. And even in attempting to keep the most positive of attitudes, it is unavoidable that, on the occasion, frustration, exhaustion, and apathy will create a perfect storm, if you will, that just makes you want to say, "fuck it". And this, ultimately, is why I am spending my evening at home with some shitty Korean beer and a large bottle(s) of soju.
The point of this post, however, is not to bitch or complain. It is actually quite the opposite. Feeling the need to actually step out of the house this evening, albeit simply to purchase more alcohol, I had a small encounter that turned my negative feelings on their head. In fact, these sort of interactions are things I've experienced quite often. Yet for some reason on this particular night, on this particular interaction, I felt the need to revive my dormant blog.
What I will describe is nothing dramatic and, frankly, considering all the fantastic blogging that is taking place right now, now even worthy or blogging about. Yet a certain "perfect storm" (again, if you will) of emotions leads me to want to write this. I simply went to the local grocers, grabbed a 6-pack and a bottle of soju, made my way to the counter, and checked out. Nothing out of the ordinary, right? This is a grocers I go to quite frequently however, and have been since I first arrived here roughly 8 months ago. There is a usual woman who works the counter and she always greets me with a smile; she always is quite accommodating to my less-than-spectacular Korean skills. And tonight, to top it off, she asked, "Name? Your name?" A simple question, but a question that acknowledges me as not only a consistent and respectful customer, but a person. And frankly, at times, it can be easy to forget that you are a real person as a foreigner in Korean society. Don't get me wrong, I have met many fantastic people here that have been kind, considerate, and accommodating. Yet the generic questions and constant superficial, "keeping-you-at-a-distance" interactions that foreigners inevitably experience, again and again, day in and day out, certainly take their toll. But what has, and continues, to give me strength during the tough times abroad are these simple interactions. They not only encourage me to continue forging through this unique experience, they not only encourage me to keep studying a place, a society, and a people I am truly passionate about, but they also give me hope in humanity as a whole.
On a separate note, I have a great deal of music that I feel should be shared with people outside of not only Seoul, but Korea, East Asia, and the world in general. So I plan to (on a consistent basis!) upload files in an attempt to fulfill at least one original purpose of this blog and, more importantly, communicate the original, innovative, and passionate music that is being created outside of the West.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Zach Hill at Theater Zero, 9/18/2010
For my first live show here in Korea, I was incredibly excited to find out that drummer Zach Hill, whom I was familiar from his work with Hella, was going to make a stop off in Seoul during his Asia tour. While technically my first live musical event was a performance by the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra, it honestly wasn't particularly noteworthy. The featured performer of the evening, cellist Alban Gerhardt, seemed to be a really big fan of himself. I'm not going to pretend to know much about classical music, but is it customary to exit and reemerge on the stage 4-5 times to bow after each selection? While he was certainly impressing to watch, I was much more interested hearing the force of the full orchestra, which unfortunately too often took a backseat to his showboating. Although the weather prohibited much outdoor enjoyment, I did get to see a bit of the massive Seoul Arts Center, where the concert was held. Once inside we had to walk another 5 minutes through a massive outdoor plaza, passing several other performance halls on the way. The auditorium we were in was absolutely beautiful but I unfortunately was not allowed to take any pictures.
While I am much more interested in experiencing local music, I considered myself quite lucky to be able to get an early foothold in the music scene here through an American artist. Theater Zero, along with the vast majority of other indie venues in the city, is located in the Hongdae neighborhood, about 25 minutes west by subway from my guesthouse in central Seoul. This was also my first visit to the neighborhood which, despite being similar to my own neighborhood of Pil-dong in that the majority of businesses cater to college students, has a much more vibrant and lively feel to it. Spreading out in all directions from its heart at Hongik University, the area consists of many small byways lined with clubs, bars, clothing shops, and restaurants. There is constantly something going on and on weekend nights the party often spills out on to the street, with performances of various sizes springing up in parks and along the sidewalk. More on that later...
After stubbornly wandering around for roughly 25 minutes trying to find the place on my own, I finally stepped into a Cheap Monday store and had the guy working there direct me back to a building I had probably passed at least 5 times. After following some other foreigners down a flight of stairs, I finally arrived at Theater Zero.
While encompassing only a small basement area, the owners of the place really did some cool stuff with the space available. Cardboard cutouts rotate around the ceiling, sheets hang with projections of several artists' works-in-progress cast on to them, various paintings adorn the walls, and the bands play right on the floor among the crowd. Couldn't really ask for more in my opinion.
While there were several openers, only the final two really deserve mention. The first of these, Bamseom Pirates, just completely blew me away. After enduring some silly Euro synth-pop and two indie rock bands, the Pirates came screaming on to the stage with a blend of hardcore, grind, sludge, and rock. Take a look:
The drummer was just phenomenal, and the bassist mixed speedy fingerwork with some thick, heavy riffs. This video definitely captures the hardcore/grind side a little more, but a lot of their stuff recalls Man Is the Bastard for me. I heard from the member of another Korean band later that they are "a bunch of assholes," and I definitely think their sarcastic banter during the show about hamburgers, North Korea, and America being #1 definitely could have rubbed people the wrong way. I think I only fell in love with them more. Luckily, the recordings I made of they're set were some of the only recordings I made that night that came across nicely. I'm going to put together a little live "e.p." to post along with a link to get your hands on one of their albums proper.
While I am much more interested in experiencing local music, I considered myself quite lucky to be able to get an early foothold in the music scene here through an American artist. Theater Zero, along with the vast majority of other indie venues in the city, is located in the Hongdae neighborhood, about 25 minutes west by subway from my guesthouse in central Seoul. This was also my first visit to the neighborhood which, despite being similar to my own neighborhood of Pil-dong in that the majority of businesses cater to college students, has a much more vibrant and lively feel to it. Spreading out in all directions from its heart at Hongik University, the area consists of many small byways lined with clubs, bars, clothing shops, and restaurants. There is constantly something going on and on weekend nights the party often spills out on to the street, with performances of various sizes springing up in parks and along the sidewalk. More on that later...
After stubbornly wandering around for roughly 25 minutes trying to find the place on my own, I finally stepped into a Cheap Monday store and had the guy working there direct me back to a building I had probably passed at least 5 times. After following some other foreigners down a flight of stairs, I finally arrived at Theater Zero.
While encompassing only a small basement area, the owners of the place really did some cool stuff with the space available. Cardboard cutouts rotate around the ceiling, sheets hang with projections of several artists' works-in-progress cast on to them, various paintings adorn the walls, and the bands play right on the floor among the crowd. Couldn't really ask for more in my opinion.
While there were several openers, only the final two really deserve mention. The first of these, Bamseom Pirates, just completely blew me away. After enduring some silly Euro synth-pop and two indie rock bands, the Pirates came screaming on to the stage with a blend of hardcore, grind, sludge, and rock. Take a look:
The drummer was just phenomenal, and the bassist mixed speedy fingerwork with some thick, heavy riffs. This video definitely captures the hardcore/grind side a little more, but a lot of their stuff recalls Man Is the Bastard for me. I heard from the member of another Korean band later that they are "a bunch of assholes," and I definitely think their sarcastic banter during the show about hamburgers, North Korea, and America being #1 definitely could have rubbed people the wrong way. I think I only fell in love with them more. Luckily, the recordings I made of they're set were some of the only recordings I made that night that came across nicely. I'm going to put together a little live "e.p." to post along with a link to get your hands on one of their albums proper.
The second opener of note, Sighborg (officially Ssighborggggg), put on a surprisingly enjoyable set themselves. Consisting of two expats from an undisclosed location, the duo dawned homemade masks (so maybe they're from Providence?) and played synth-heavy improve (at least what appeared to be) backed by drums and the occasional guitar. Blogger won't let me upload audio files directly so I made a quick little video to accompany the audio recording. Take a listen:
And finally, the one and only Zach Hill. The short video I took of him and his guitar accompaniment Carson McWhirter (formally of Hella and bassist for a band I just discovered, The Advantage, who apparently specialize in doing covers of old NES games) doesn't quite do the set justice. The man demolished his drum set for 30 minutes straight, playing at speeds beyond any I thought humans were capable of. As far as McWhirter's contribution to it all, the guitar sound was completely overblown and muddled which unfortunately detracted from an otherwise solid set. Once in a while his meddling would shine through and bring the duo together as they were intended to be heard, but for the most part Theater Zero dropped the ball on the mixing. Hill ultimately made up for any shortcomings however and somehow managed to make the manically improvised set seem carefully structured. As a result of the overblown sound, however, I wasn't able to salvage any of the recording I made. Hopefully my skills with the audio and video will improve as I get used to my equipment. Anyway, make sure to see the man if he comes through your town.
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