This is a beautiful package of some of PBK's early cassette works recorded between 1987 and 1991, during his days as a California resident. Three audio CDs are housed in a black ink on heavy black stock wallet-pack with a fourth unlistenable disk, completing the symmetry of the package, that contains printed information on one side and some vintage collaged artwork on the other. Phillip B. Klinger was a contemporary of mine back in the cassette underground heyday and, although I don't ever recall actually corresponding with him, I eded up with one of his tapes and believe we shared company on a few compilation releases. I'm glad to discover that he's still at it, now relocated to Michigan, and that there's enough interest in the old music to warrant this gorgeous release in an issue of 264 hand-numbered copies.
The first disk collects tracks from several releases and was compiled and remastered by Klinger's pal and occasional collaborator Vidna Obmana (aka Dirk Serries) in Belgium back in 1994. For the PBK completists out there this may be something of a disappointment, but I'm pretty sure there are reissues of 'A Noise Supreme' and some of the these other early works floating around somewhere in various forms (if not the originals). 'The Music Of Her Sleep' slowly rises to the surface with pulsating subtelty. It maintains a sense of disquieting comfort within its meditative tension, indeed a perfect paradox amongst such active stasis. In other words, a nice layering of loops that make for nine minutes of some very engaging listening. The second track is even more ambient and has a slightly creepy quality due to the FM synthesis and grainy analogue loops. The best part is when a bit of rhythmic interplay takes place around four minutes in and evokes the mood of a dimly-lit night spent in solitaire by a cool river. 'Innocence' has some processed voice, presumably a child's, as its focal point for this vignette. Nothing much really happens in this reverberated piece, but it serves its purpose as a bridge to the next track quite nicely. The first number from 'Thrill Pictures' is a loopy psychedelic one with a wobbly persona that any self-respecting tapehead should hear.
'Narcosis 1' evokes a more sedate state as the title aptly indicates, but should have been stretched out much more and could have become a drone masterpiece. The sixth track is five minutes of lovely metallic swelling and contracting, but loses some meaning out of it's original context. The second 'Narcosis' track gets really interesting about two minutes in when it breaks free of the noise loop and percolates its way into near silence. The synthesized metal percussive sounds that that emerge are like a breath of fresh air and create an actual melody of sorts until another burst of abstract noise takes over and, despite the superfluous sweeping VCO, makes for an outstanding piece. The next two 'Thrill Pictures' excerpts are are exquisite examples of what I consider to be excellent electronic music produced outside the field of academia. Yes, I'm a sucker for ambient music with psycho-acoustic properties and this work is deep and damn near flawless. I want the whole freaking recording! The tenth track keeps the drone flame burning with the addition of some rather menacing processed voice and a choice ending. The last piece on the disk is from 'Thrill Pictures' and shimmers most beautifully even amongst the fractured vocal track, which is a work of art unto itself. All in all, this is great music presented in a less than stellar fashion, perhaps due to Dirk's mixtape mindset? In my humble opinion, a really creative blend of this material would work less with fade-ins and fade-outs and would concentrate on having the sounds blend more organically as a single work. It's a minor complaint as this stuff sounds even better some twenty years later.
'Asesino' was recorded in 1988 and bursts out of the gate with a blast of torrential audio that's not devoid of any dramatic action. The music is generally harsh but has enough subtle intricacies that defy being catagorised as mere noise. The first of these seven untitled pieces consists of seven minutes of disciplined analogue noise control, whereas the second one challenges the upper-spectrum of your auditory perceptive abilities. The loop that comes to characterize the track has a razor-blade-through-the speaker-cone quality that kept me engaged without ever tiring. In fact, it assumed an almost meditative quality until the eruption that takes place just after the six minute mark which provides a hefty jolt, but manges to still remaining interesting until its premature fade-out two minutes later. The third one settles into droney dark territory with a shiny plate-reverb sheen that teasingly teeters on the edge of total feedback hell until saved by the percussive sounds that enter towards the ending. This is a remarkable work of ambient eeriness recorded long before drone was considered a genre of everyday music-making.
Track four brings the noise back to the front, but with a rhythmic twist in an almost minimalist way. A loop is processed to the point that the generative element is usurped by its subsequent treatments and the original figure is tranformed and obscured into a entirely new entity. Damn lovely this is. The fifth number includes some source material from the ubiquitous sound-art reconfigurationist Zan Hoffman who is, fortunately, also still as active as ever. There's a cranky mid-to-low foundation accompanied by what sounds like manual tape manipulation and some sloppy synth-work. While it's still an engaging piece, it pales in comparison to tha acute focus of the others up to this point. Track six highlights some other-worldy flanged circuits boiled in hot oil while the uninvited guests laugh with their nefarious thoughts and intentions as they hasten their way out of the party to save their silly asses, but alas the circuits have the last laugh as the alien noise dissipates into a haze of chopped fragments. Lucky bastards. The concluding eight-plus minutes of 'Asesino' may be very well the best yet. Warm drones and fuzzy loops give way to some garden variety frequency-modulation for a brief appearance. When things quiet down about halfway through, it makes sense and seems like a logical ending. Nope; time for a coda of delicate sound that progresses from ambient to noisy psychedelia and right back home again. This was, and still is, a brilliant release. I wish 10% of contemporary noise releases sounded this good.
The third disk in this collection also dates from 1988 and consists of the release 'Die Brucke' and a bonus track. Despite its title, track one is not a cover of the SPK classic of the same name, but still kicks off noisy and percussive. In fact it somewhat conjures the spirit of that group's work circa 1981. If you don't know what I'm talking about then go find copies of 'Leichenschrei'(sp?) or the singles collection 'Auto-Da-Fe.' There's a saxophone or similar timbre that comes to the surface every now and then to charming effect and contrasts nicely with the otherwise bleak industrial landscape. Just as the piece begins to wear out it's welcome, which it does, it ends at just over eleven minutes. 'Sturm' is the German word for storm if you didn't already know and what a torrent of a track this is. Waves envelop and swell around the head in an almost hypnotic series of relatively simple patterns. Subtle alterations occur along the way but the piece is otherwise an exercise in active stasis, dare I say, Feldman-esque. The last minute or so rests comfortably on some high-frequency dancing that may not be so good for your ears, but does my body good at any rate. The title track is much shorter and more of a sombre drone based on a catchy but dissonant looped simple melody a la early Swans without the pounding drums. There's a palpable tension here with menacing oscillations and potentially threatening feedback lurking in the wings. Very powerful piece that could have been much longer in my book, but I'm assuming it was the end of the original cassette's first side. 'Cannibale' wells up from a very dark place where distressed voices are back-masked on tape to either obscure or enhance their unpleasant confessions. Only two minutes in something wonderful and unexpected happens in the form the sudden absence of all but small sounds. Very tastefully placed, it doesn't last long and the piece re-emerges as some sort of insectoid alien with an asthmatic condition assuming vocal duties and the reed work from 'Mekano.' It may sound cliche, but it's almost Kafka-esque and there's certainly some un-natural metamorphosis going on here. Intense track at any rate.
'Winter Land' evokes some frigid imagery, or more like the physical sensation of the piercing wind off of Lake Michigan in the dead of the season. That experience alone will make your ears ring mercilessly. This one is a little less engaging of a listen but certainly challenging. The drone element is in place and the plate reverb is in full effect, but it just doesn't do that much for me. The last five minutes take a nice turn by reducing everything to some sparse processed sonics, but are ultimately dull compared to what I know this cat is capable of. Ditto for the last track of the original 'Die Brucke' release. It's a mere six minute analogue noise fest unto itself that's based over a rather uninspired loop. There's nothing wrong with it, but it feels like the record's running out of steam. The bonus track, 'Shamanistic' is an eighteen minute sporadic workout with some rhythmically redeeming actions that have yet to be explored in this collection. Synth bubbles percolate around the periphery of nightmarish drones and a somewhat sloppy mix. Six minutes in, a nice shiny landscape surfaces that should have set the pace from the get-go. Pretty music that never really gets the chance to have its say, or is that the point? This feels less like Southern California than it does spending a quiet evening along the East River on the Kings/Queens county border carrying on an endless coversation with one's self. That's not a bad thing, but this track comes across as a composite mix of several pieces. That's only a drag because there are some great elements within that could stand to be developed further.
Young ones, get it together and learn yourself good, because some of the best experimental noise recordings that I've heard lately are around twenty years old. The attention to detail and overall sonic awareness that characterize PBK's work is nearly impeccable. Yes there are sloppy moments and the occasional negligible track, but I can't help but feel that the world is a better place with this material back in circulation. Sure he wasn't cutting up tiny bits of tape for months on end, but it's not like he had a laptop either. Study your history kids, this stuff matters. (Heathen Harvest)
