Got a couple of new cassettes sent to us by Federica Rossella of Kitchen Leg Records – both arrived 4th January 2023. The label claims to be inspired by DIY culture – mailart, zines, collage, punk rock and Riot Grrrl – and say they “mostly release weird pop or punk/wave but occasionally also experimental music”. I love them already.
The duo Earth Logoff made Tritium in the studio after their first recording Fungym which was tainted by the despair of lockdown and “other depressing stuff”. Nothing depressing here in the high-energy grooves of Tritium, a non-stop energy fest of electronic noise and drumming by Rbrt and Sanaa. Both players emerged from the group Antihairball, a trio who described themselves with tags “Avant-garde Queer Noise”, and it seems the gender politics carry on into Earth Logoff with the fruity description of “instrumental techno speedtrans”. The noisy electronic side of the maelstrom uses live sampling and a self-programmed controller, they say, but the zesty results indicate malfunctioning machinery which they themselves can barely control. Which is great. And the rhythm section here is more devastating than a fleet of howitzers – a remorseless mechanical poundage that drives every short statement home with the efficiency of a pneumatic drill. About time that real drumming made a comeback in the club and in the studio!
Although it’s tempting to compare these eager young noiseniks to Lightning Bolt or Chicago Underground Duo, Earth Logoff take things a step further by paring down the equation to something even more basic and crude. No vocals for one thing, and there’s no attempt to do anything fancy or weird or experimental with the electronics, just thrash around like 18 wild animals in a cage devouring each other. Quite often the duo quickly get stuck in a narrow whirlpool loop of their own making, and the whole point of the performance is just to watch them writhing around in coils as they try to escape. When they fail, they simply stop playing. “Element of early computer music and some disco glimpses”, says the press release in support of this “apocalyptic dance sound for the next millennium”. Hugely enjoyable – move fast to grab one of the limited run 60 copies.
If that mention of Lightning Bolt suddenly sparked your appetite for intense guitar and drum avant-rock, tune into Novatron and their self-titled cassette…they’re a duo from Japan, Itta Nakamura and Tatsumi Ryusui, and they’re got a severe case of toothache of the foot. To put it another way, they’re a living case of termites under the rhinoceros hide…a slugfest on the ocean floor between two battling king prawns…angry ptarmigans fighting over a slice of fried bread. Originally from Japan (natch), they’ve now situated in Berlin where they stood still long enough to turn in these three killer-mode zonks for the label. Git-player Ryusui has made one solo LP and also plays in Elmer Kussiac (with a cellist and bassist fed through electronics), Noctiluca (one single so far from 2021) and Palatial. Drummer Itta Nakamura has been active in music since 2009 or earlier and also played in The Cabs creating a species of post-hardcore mathrock, depending on who you ask…
Kitchen Leg press department not so keen however on “mathrock” term and indicate this music leans more towards acid and psychedelic, advising us to prepare for “a trip to the infinite and back to your seat”. It’s true that this duo of youngsters deliver the cosmic bacon far more efficiently than Acid Mothers Temple or Ghost, who even when they used to be quite good took too long getting to the point and spent too much time preening or displaying their feathers, while these two maniacs fire the crossbow of destiny straight at the cranial core as a precursor to every lysergic episode. I guess what they do share with mathrock is the unflagging energy – the two hefty cuts on the A side are an exhausting listen – but they dispense with musical and rhythmical complexity in favour of wild feral noise. B side ‘After Break’ however sees them drift away into a more soothing galaxoid balm, in the manner of Gong / Steve Hillage after a dose of Diazepam and suspended in a tank of blue syrup. In the floaty melodic swirls one can spend more time in forensic appreciation of Tatsumi Ryusui’s pedal effects, some of which evidently can reverse time. Let’s hope this is evidence of a new wave of powerful Japan avant-rock to rival the glory days of the 1990s…