[addntox] avant hard...1st review?
- as published on the addntox list
Add N to (X) - Avant Hard. released april 19 on Mute.....
Review by ASCOT (Ascot@...)
BARRY 7's CONTRAPTION
Like a disgruntled and overly friendly circus owner, Barry 7 plots the
unthickening dissolution of the mathematical tree forest by unleashing
his belgian transistor maintenance scheme. His mind can be heard fizzing
and popping as his outline is lost forever.
ROBOT NEW YORK
Bloomingdales, lacy's, and the turn-of-the-century brass garibaldi
biscuit factory are raided by simplistic meccano contraptions in the
disguise of high class robots. they pull off an assault of flattering
intestinal fortitude, egged on by the magnificent pulsing of an
KNOWING that his machine is a blustering harbinger of destruction, a tiny
silver clamped machine flexes it's most intricate radiophonic muscles,
and announces at timely intervals his overpoweringly obvious trait, that
STEVE'S GOING TO SHOW HIMSELF WHO'S BOSS
wailing, mewling and prowling up the stairs into his post-op 2 diemsional
bedroom, the minute surgeon steve screams for his parents in a rage the
likes of which everyone has seen at least once or twice. DADDY DADDY
MUMMY MUMMY DADDY he mimes,as the hysterical laughter of the sopwith
jukebox prepares him for his punishing bout of self duplication.
an oversexed pam ayres is gang banged by hordes of cloth eared
synthesized upper class little chefs whilst listening to a suicide gig.
the monkey shotgun blasting pipes of pan spew out their haunting looping
rhythm, whilst steve constructs a perfect geodesic dome of vocodic
luxury, reaching into the air like an awesome pile of haystacks in a
needle's head, accompanied by the velvety gilded rhythms of the massed
marching drum machines.
REVENGE OF THE BLACK REGENT
melancholy and vaguely upset by the irrepressable din of his wife fucking
the servants deep in the basement, the black regent dons his leather
coated chocolate earmuffs in a fit of hatred and together with his
lieutenant, pens a tune of startingly elaborate content, pausing a while
to allow the strict percussion of his staid and whimsical mind to
percolate, only for them to be crushed by the realization that there is
no past or future. Meanwhile his wife sings a lilting ballad as she
reaches crescendos of illogical overpowering pride.
METAL FINGERS IN MY BODY
descending from the sky, just above the plastic countryside, an oversexed
robot has to be reset by it's unbelievably badly drawn mistress, before
the arrival of george back home. A disdainful yes sir at best, george
asks about his wife's activities, to which she can openly reply "metal
fingers in my body".
ANN's EVEREADY EQUESTRIAN
like an unsteady shockwave rider, RIPPING THROUGH THE MILE LOW SOUND
CENTROBE, ANN MOUNTS her flame horse generator in a fit of serious
unabashed apprehension and joyful regret. This is the perfect
demonstration of the inevitable conclusion, that the future that will
never happen is only geater invention in response to greater extremes.
the wild eyed moogrogues cannot handle this disgustingly plain fact and
tear at their velvet masks in ecstatic denial, as the the eveready
equestrian heads towards the analogue past at breakneck speed.
OH YEAH, OH NO
oh fuck.oh my god, oh well.the brass band of broken moths strike up a
free jazz accompaniment to ascots bloody minded indecision-making.
MACHINE IS BORED WITH LOVE
Ennio morricone and serge gainsbourg start fighting uncontrollably in a
tiny french cafe and the whistling fury of their punching reverberates
enough to attract wasps....alone in the corner of this hexagonal garlic
crusher of a bar, the lovelorn robot synthesises a phenominal audio
effect which crash lands him into a flailing mass of wah wah rainbow
The cd ends with the terrifying childrens ITV crackpot inventor, barry 7,
deep in his laboratory, melding screaming binatone transistor radios into
unholy mutant harps. a systematic and ultimately doomed practice.
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