Voice Paintings
(Chocolate Monk) 3-inch CDR $8.00 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. Mr Insect Factory’s ideas presented in the raw, prior to study and refinement. The audio sources on Barsky’s eight-minute postcard span more than a decade; he shares it as a love letter to being alive, a thank-you note to the trees, a prayer to the moon. Edition of 60
REBECCA MAHAY / RUSSELL WALKER
Have You Ever Seen Me in the Spring?
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $8.00 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. Weirdo concrete spoken word pieces pulled from the confusing emotional wreckage of a previous era that hold up a funhouse mirror to self-important monologues and self-deprecating goof, while also touching on alienation and existential themes with subtle humor. Edition of 60
96 Revenge Tapes
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $8.00 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. Let the tapes dream. The whole ferric coil works like time — it’s all there at once. Sensors and action receive and hear a second per second. Like different animals in time, tape is metabolized at different speeds. Dragged across the head. Music as a thing in itself. Music from a world despite people. Too low fidelity for commercialism. Too analogue for mechanical reproduction. Too off-putting to unite people in interesting times. Removing human intent and authorship. Turning avant-slop automatic sounds into CD through curation alone. All gone horribly wrong. The freedom in indeterminacy equalizes; it denies hierarchy and sounds as static repetitions. Reliability for automatous ends. Repetition is an arrogant human dominance of sound and art. A spreadsheet is reliable. A spreadsheet is consistent. No overdubs. No re-takes. There is no player. Edition of 60
Live at Bar Chitei
(Chocolate Monk) CDR $8.00 (Out-of-stock)
COMING SOON. In August 2025, Tokyo’s mecca for noise and avant-garde sounds, Bar Chitei, hosted Slug Tapes’ Operation Doomsday vol.1 live event, where the ex-Gauze and the Incapacitant — usually seen together in the trio Nomuzu with Yoshio Otani — stepped into the hot stink of an eager crowd of sweating noise nerds and hardcore goons. Mikawa ladles out the electronic belch’n’ heave while Hiko gets on the clatter’n’thwack feverishly, all frisky and visceral. A real thought embargo. Reports have it that the bar was propped up by a lone suave gent in a bespoke 1930s style Okisaka designer suit (three-piece), who had one sleeve rolled up, and his arm submerged in a giant jar of Big Dills for the duration of their set. Raw, no budget, straight to device capture. Edition of 75