With Alex Drool, Maya Dunietz, Eran Sachs and Ilan Volkov

(Tutore Burlato - #16) Cassette $6.00

“There was a cloud in the room at Dunietz Towers of the Acme animated variety,” recalls Ali Robertson about the recording of the two untitled side-length tracks here. “At its core, there was not a ball of violence, but a six-notched ashtray filled with the smoked-out butts of the central belt and the Middle East…. [I]n addition to the traditional fists and elbows [onlookers] observed protruding from the fog: three dozen bottle tops, a stick attached to a cat’s arse with marshmallow, the green glow emanating from a future past’s robotic butler’s face and The KLF’s Bill Drummond exiting slyly by the back door. Later we licked our wounds and swallowed a whole fridge before sleeping spoons in the honeymoon suite. Occupational hazards, eh.”


The Inevitable Typo On Sheila Ostrich’s Tombstone

(Butte County Free Music Society - BUFMS73) CDR $8.00

In Bren’t Lewiis Ensemble’s latest reportage from the front row of a nightmarish debacle no one would want to stage, Thanksgiving is a revolting feast of Pynchon-inspired cuisine on the front edge of an exploding dirigible, yoga mats double as coffin liners, heavenly choirs are replaced by glitchy, private-press inbreds howling themselves sick in vortices of serrated cubism, and people who don’t know they no longer exist are the only ones who cry “Mortality as home entertainment? This can’t be the future. Can it? Can it?” Harmonic disarray and sour electro-splat seep upward and outward like a disturbing organ meat experiment going horribly awry. Dense electronic processes mingle with field recordings of machines defective and dying of old age. Alarm klaxons and calls to arms do not overpower the soundscape so much as wanly ooze from some anemic sky sphincter worthy of an Arch Oboler thriller. The forty-minute “The Flesh Is Already Engulfing The Guns” crawls into view like a family of zombie executives exiting a fallout shelter. Nauseated screeches dry-heave at strings of metal scraping marrow-less bones into bite-sized chunks. Swarms of clinking locusts disperse above fields of plastic thrift-store detritus getting overrun from all angles by locomotives locked in emergency deceleration mode. Flightless birds elongate their synchronized death squawks and amplify their internal doom. Molecules of electronic corruption wheeze complaints to no one. Violins groan with the vigor of an old rocking chair where a corpse has been dumped. Unattended radios transmit useless advice. Drones and pulsations slowly fall apart and atomize, a mirror image of decay and putrid nothingness enveloping untethered astronauts. A portrait of the void, disembodied space globules and all. The ensemble's version of Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s poem “Assassination Raga” embalms all the stripes of the rainbow that is America’s creep-show optimism with congealed blood. That the album is released on the poet’s 99th birthday is not a coincidence.


Pop Oil View

(Chocolate Monk - CHOC.397) CDR $8.00

Brandstifter and Volcano The Bear’s Aaron Moore return for a second swig of poison. With full bellies they foray further into the forest of broken music, incorporating a wide selection of instruments and guff to create sweet swaggering tomfoolery with a distinct whiff of Paul McCarthy in their demented vocal ditties or Mike Kelley (à la The Poetics or early Destroy All Monsters). Be brave, you sack o’ meat, tie one on. Numbered Edition of 60.



(Chocolate Monk - CHOC.394) CDR $8.00

Forty minutes of electronics and loops recorded during an impromptu session at No Spray 205 in San Francisco, named after the 1919 disaster that buried an entire neighborhood of Boston in deadly sweetened ooze. Numbered Edition of 60.


If You Can't Be Good, Be Reasonable

(Chocolate Monk - CHOC.393) Magazine + CDR $13.00

An alarming, detailed travelogue by The Fourth Chinz-man Of The Apocalypse about his November 2017 trip to witch-trial country, where he played shows with Phil Milstein and Ariella Stok (aka Suppressive Persons) and on his own. CDR includes the trio’s entire set at Feeding Tube Records in Florence, Massachusetts. “The only thing weirder than what comes out of this motherfucker’s mouth is what goes in,” says Roland Woodbe. “Seriously, is there anything S. Glass won’t eat?” Forty-eight pages. The first in Chocolate Monk’s Lunkhead Library series. Numbered Edition of 100.


Their Faces Closed

(Chocolate Monk - CHOC.395) Cassette $9.50

Live recordings from White’s fall 2017 trans-Canada express — a mix of comedy and confusion flowing through him in the moment. He was attuned to the jaw harps as well. Chrome cassette in recycled card sleeve with insert. Numbered Edition of 75.