I figured it was time to dust 6 months of metaphorical dust off of this blog. I started it concurrently with a rather surprising/tumultuous/and spooky time in my life so it got set a side after just one posting. Any ways, things have adjusted so here I go…

My birthday just passed and I got the sweetest gift other than your kitty’s new borns: a $125.00 gift certificate to Amoeba Records from a buddy of mine, Bill. Manna from Bill! Amongst all my loot (see photo for complete details) I got the latest Boris and Merzbow release: ROCK DREAM. I’m terrible at writing hot on a listen so I’ll give a full account later (so far my favorite moment is near the end of PINK, when amidst all the 1-2-3-4 ROCK, Merzbow “takes a solo” with a searing acid windstorm. Sweet…! Runner up: last track FAREWELL-a soaring 8 minute mini-epic perfect for any New Years Eve climax. Incidentally, the last song I played in 2007 was Search For The New Land by Lee Morgan. First song of 2008: Winter Sky by Big Country-my greatest weakness and, forgive me, my favorite band of all time. My tastes are a bit spazz. 2nd song of 2008: Misty Melody by Kiss Me Deadly. I know New Years beginnings are as cynically arbitrary as Valentines Day or Xmas but still, I believe…).

Anyways, here is some extreme randomness concerning Masami Akita, aka Merzbow. He is the true distillation and Holy Spirit of PUNK. And unlike most things said about PUNK, this is not empty rhetoric. I don’t think you can go any further than this, musically, without causing actual physical trauma to yourself. If any music could be accused of triggering psychosis in an unbalanced individual, this is it. When people use the lazy expression “wall of sound” they’re not even getting close to the sheer metal majesty of his aural assault. Exclamation mark!

Merzbow surpasses the average auditory experience. Tangible forces start acting upon your physiology: sinus passages thrum and drip, thin planes of bone vibrate between the ears, a hole opens up slowly at the base of the skull as new worlds are banged into messy creation.

His recordings are NOISE: brutal documents of the hive, the insect roar of metal hatchlings in birth riot, field recordings from the core of the sun, the catastrophic sound of universal entropy. His sound is so FULL it’s positively rococo and his damage is absolute. What’s funny is: the more goofily pretentious I get, the more accurate it all starts to sound. But I think my brother has the best and most succinct appraisal: “This is challenging music.” So, to begin what I know will be a long and strong lineage, here is a quick nod to my favorite releases….

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1930,

My favorite. Keep in mind, however, that Merzbow has put out over 300 albums and I own thirteen. 1930 is all about speed, a spooky instrumental narrative of unrelenting forward menace. It’s an insane and exhausting feat of rhythmic chaos that gathers, shatters and drops in entirely new ways over and over and over again. This is one of those albums where you just keep saying “Daaaammmn!” while it’s playing out. It also has one of my favorite Merzbow moments: what sounds like the terrified howl of some animal attempting to outrun the vicious momentum of sound, only to be struck and mortally wounded by it (track 2: minute marker 1:49.) Then devoured by it (minute marker 2:00). That’s one of the things I really dig about him; from pure sound Merzbow creates convincing life forms, both organic and meca, and in the midst of blistering carnage these “voices” can rise up and disturb you with authentic feeling. DAMN!!!….