Stählerne Lichter

Various Artists - Stählerne Lichter

Licht Und Stahl CD. Licht006

300 Copies.

I watched The Road last night. Not as good as the book of course, Cormac McCarthy’s bleak prose described a post apocalyptic world in ways that Hollywood will never match but it did get me thinking about Stählerne Lichter and its end of the world soundtrack. 

Post apocalyptic industrial ambience has its fans and I count myself amongst them. In the right hands a sense of foreboding can be a profound experience but when it goes wrong it does so in spectacular style. For every Dieter Müh you can count any number of outfits producing sounds that are tired and cliched. Think role playing computer game soundtracks, hackneyed samples stuck on groaning metal, crap that makes you think its creator has an entirely different concept of the apocalypse than the makers of The Road ever did. 

Most comps usually carry the odd dud and its no disgrace, tastes will vary of course. The duds on Stählerne Lichter stand out like sore thumbs though. Not even fifteen tracks spread across eighty minutes of CD is enough camouflage for some.

Maybe thats the way forward? Fill your comp to bursting with similar sounding material and hope nobody notices? Alas Erdlicht, Le Syndicate and Galerie Schallschutz protruded too far for these seasoned ears. Le Syndicate’s track is the twin to Nurse With Wound’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Station; lolloping beats which inexplicably speed up towards their conclusion. Erdlicht go for the Nintendo 90’s role playing game experience in which you try to find the key to a door in a lonely castle. Terrible. The title of Galerie Schallschutz track is ‘Electro Convulsive Therapy’ which I think tells you everything you need to know about that track. Nothing wrong with going for the 1990’s Cold Meat dollar but amongst this sea of industrial ambience it just doesn’t sit right. 

Thats the bad stuff out of the way though. The rest sails by in a sea of surreptitious ethnic drumming, Z’ev like spring clangings, meditative atmospherics and a delightful ditty containing simple strummed guitar, birdsong and the chimes of small xylophone. Standout tracks belong to Dieter Müh, Atrox, Wach and Fieberflug with maybe a few other contenders thrown in for good measure as well. 

Dieter Müh’s five minutes of fame is a sublime mind sweep of treated samples covered in Arctic waste. Their use of a barely audible vocal sample is perfectly crafted and should be used as an example to all those who litter their work willy-nilly with every Charlie Manson soundbite they can lay their hands on - it could be a serial killer mumbling their most inner thoughts but likewise it could also quite easily be your mum leaving a shopping list on your voicemail. Flutwacht follow it up with some splendid treated clangings. A little like hitting a five mile long piece of six inch steel pipe with a wrench. N.Strahl.N contribute two tracks which causes me no end of confusion, the second track isn’t credited and appears as the last track thus throwing my meticulous research into chaos - am I crediting Fieberflug with the strumming ditty or is it Sturmkind? Have I wronged Le Syndicate when I should be nailing some uncredited bald headed bloke with a funny beard in Cologne? I work it out, eventually, but minus two points to Licht und Stahl for making me do the leg work. Back at N.Strahl.N’s first offering, the ritual drumming of ‘Blutleuchte’ is sublime, the last ‘Inwedig’ a desolate symphony of reverberating junk, not dissimilar to early Neubauten. The strumming belongs to Sturmkind. It shouldn’t work but it does. It should have been the last track too and it would have saved me all the head scratching. Pick the rest out yourself. Its worth the investment, despite the duds.

Contact: www.lichtundstahl.blogspot.com

Milovan Srdenovic

Milovan

In an era where noise releases appear with all the regularity of sliced salami, its refreshing to have a new Smell & Quim release around. Powerfuck is seminal Smell & Quim and a massive return to form. Original and surviving member Milovan Srdenovic has put together a band that has already caused controversy by getting the 2007 Deaf Forever all day noise festival in Leeds abandoned after complaints about misuse of a pigs head [this in a venue only a couple of hundred yards away from a mosque] they were the first and last act.

I’ve been a fan ever since I saw them play the Bradford 1 in 12 Club back in the mid 90’s. An epiphany for me and a loss of hearing for many. Couple the noise with a sense of humour that is British postcard surreal dipped in shit and you have one of THE great English noise bands and one that I hope is around for a while longer yet.

Tracking Srdenovic down to his West Yorks bolt hole I asked him about what inspired Powerfuck and to how big a debt it owed to an ancient 72 year old mad cap English comic called Ken Dodd.

IT WAS THE COMING TOGETHER OF THE CURRENT SMELL & QUIM LINE-UP IN 2007, AND THE SUBSEQUENT LIVE OUTINGS IN THAT YEAR THAT PLANTED THE SEEDS OF DESIRE TO RECORD NEW MATERIAL. THE ENSUING NOISE THAT WE MADE WHEN WE CAME TOGETHER IS "POWERFUCK" THE CULMINATION OF OUR UNION THUS FAR.

THE FIRST TRACK ON THE ALBUM IS TITLED "DODDY'S COCK" AND IT WAS INDEED INSPIRED BY A DREAM I HAD, WHEREIN I REALISED THE TRUE MEANING OF THE KEN DODD HIT FROM THE 1960's "HAPPINESS". DODD (HE IS ACTUALLY 81 YEARS OLD) IS PROBABLY OUR ONLY REMAINING LIVING CONNECTION TO THE BRITISH MUSIC-HALL TRADITION, AND THE USE OF THE DOUBLE ENTENDRE IS LEGENDARY IN THAT TRADITION.

The recent Smell & Quim live shows have been pretty spectacular, even by Smell & Quim standards. Everybody goes on about the pigs head at Deaf Forever but for me the sight of Gillham swinging a ten pound lump hammer in a confined space was equally as disquieting. Then there was the fish incident supporting Citizen Fish and the last time I saw you Gillham cut himself quite badly and managed to spray blood everywhere via his drums. Is the live craft still important to Smell & Quim and how hard is it to get gigs with the reputation Smell & Quim have - I’m reminded of the time you were booked to play in Belgium as a duo and about twelve people turned up.

INDEED. I COULDNT SEE WHAT ALL THE HOOHAR WAS ABOUT THE FUCKING PIGS HEAD.

WE JUST HAD A PIG THEME GOING ON. WE WERE WEARING PIG MASKS AND WE HAD A PIGS HEAD THERE.

GILLHAM WITH A SLEDGE-HAMMER IS FAR MORE DANGEROUS THAN ANY DEAD PIG-PART THAT YOURE GONNA ENCOUNTER, BUT HIS BLOOD IS GOOD.

WE ARE ENTERTAINERS FOR GODS SAKE.

THE PERFORMANCE ASPECT OF A SMELL & QUIM GIG IS INTRINSIC TO THE WHOLE. HOW LONG CAN PEOPLE ACCEPT SOME GADGER SAT INPUTTING DATA INTO A LAPTOP AS PERFORMANCE. PEDALS AND LAPTOPS ARE USEFUL TOOLS, BUT TWIDDLING ALONE DOESNT MAKE A SHOW. COME ON. WE ALL KNOW THIS!

IT IS TRUE THAT IN THE PAST PEOPLE BOOKING SMELL AND QUIM LIVE HAVE EXPECTED A DUO TO TURN UP, ONLY TO FIND 15 PEOPLE ON THEIR DOORSTEP. THIS IS NO LONGER THE CASE. S&Q ARE CURRENTLY A MERE 5 PIECE OUTFIT, AND WE COME CHEAP. WE SEEK ONLY EXPENSES AND A BIT OF HOSPITALITY FOR THE MOST PART. WE ARE FRIENDLY AND EASY TO GET ON WITH. ENTERTAINING TO HAVE AROUND EVEN. PROBABLY BETTER THAN YOUR REGULAR MATES.

BUT YES, PEOPLE SEEM RETICENT TO BOOK US.

IT IS A BIG WORRY. WE REALLY WANT TO PLAY SOME FUCKING GIGS, BECAUSE WE'RE DOING THE BEST SHIT THAT WE'VE EVER DONE, AND THERES CRAP LOADS OF NEW STUFF IN THE PIPELINE MAN.

Along with Whitehouse, Smell & Quim are creating work which is instantly recognisable and has song like structure to it. Would it be fair to say you draw inspiration from Whitehouse and would that explain the appearance of Sweet Tooth and Fuckseed on the new album?

EMBARKING ON THE NEW RECORDINGS WE DECIDED THAT WE WANTED TO REALLY GET BACK TO SMELL & QUIM BASICS. WE WANTED FULL-ON BRUTAL NOISE, POWER-ELECTRONICS, AND THE ELEMENTS OF VARIATION AND HUMOUR THAT ARE UNIQUE TO OUR BEST WORK. YOU ARE CORRECT TO PERCEIVE SONG-LIKE STRUCTURES, AND EVEN IN THE TRACKS WITHOUT WORDS, THERE IS ALWAYS A DYNAMIC AND A DEVELOPMENT ALONG THESE LINES. OFTEN A THEME, OR A BEGINNING, MIDDLE, AND AN END.

I THINK PRETTY MUCH EVERY BAND WORKING IN THE NOISE AREA HAS GAINED AT LEAST SOME INSPIRATION FROM WHITEHOUSE. THEIR BEST STUFF IS SO ARCHETYPAL. IN RECORDING "POWERFUCK" AND THE MATERIAL THAT IS TO FOLLOW WE JUST SET OUT TO PRODUCE THE BEST THAT WE COULD COME UP WITH, AND WE'RE VERY PLEASED WITH THE RESULTS.

Do you draw any inspiration from the current noise scene?

I DO PERCEIVE A RESURGENCE IN THE NOISE GENRE, AND THIS IN ITSELF IS INSPIRATIONAL, BUT I'D HAVE TO ADMIT QUITE A LEVEL OF IGNORANCE AS TO WHAT EXACTLY IS OUT THERE, AND WHY IT IS RISING AGAIN. THERES A WHOLE NEW GENERATION OF ACTS THAT I KNOW NEXT TO NOTHING ABOUT.

NOISE IS A THING BEST EXPERIENCED IN THE LIVE ARENA, AND ONE OF THE GREAT THINGS ABOUT PLAYING ON A LIVE NOISE BILL IS THAT YOU GET TO SEE OTHER PROJECTS, AND I GUESS S&Q DONT REALLY GET TO PLAY ENOUGH SHOWS, SO OUR INSPIRATION IS LARGELY SELF GENERATED.

There seems to be a lot of interest in re-issuing cassette material from the mid 90’s and beyond. I have here Goldenrod; a collaboration between Smell & Quim and Streicher which has appeared on the Freak Animal spin off Industrial Recollections and captures perfectly that fertile mid 90’s industrial noise period. Is there any other S&Q back catalogue material destined for re-issue?

INDEED THERE IS, AND UNDERSTANDABLY SO. IT WAS REFRESHING TO LEARN THAT THE THREE GOLDENROD CASSETTES WERE GOING TO BE RE-ISSUED ON INDUSTRIAL RECOLLECTIONS. I MUST SAY THAT I LIKED THE STREICHER/MACRONYMPHA ONE BEST OUT OF THE THREE.

THERE ISNT ANYTHING FIRMLY ARRANGED AS REGARDS S&Q RE-ISSUES, BUT I THINK IT COULD WELL BE OVERDUE. IF NOT RE-ISSUES OF WHOLE ALBUMS, THEN MAYBE AT LEAST SOME KIND OF BEST OF COMPENDIUM, AS A SORT OF RETROSPECTIVE. MEANWHILE WE ARE REALLY CONCENTRATING ON THE NEW STUFF.

When relaxing in my Shackletons high seat chair on a night, I like to slip on a Smell & Quim platter and pour myself a drink. I find digestifs such as Unicum or Jagermiester a fine post prandial snifter when soaking up the vibes and if its earlier in the day then a fine Belgian ale such as Westmalle or Kwak always hits the spot. I wondered if you favoured any particular form of John Barleycorn and whether alcohol plays a major part in the recording or live Smell & Quim situation?

I'VE TRIED THE SHACKLETON MYSELF, BUT FOUND THAT IT GAVE ME KNOTS IN THE TRAPESIUS, SO NOWADAYS I FAVOUR A CHAISE LONGUE WHILST QUAFFING DIGESTIFS IN MY NEGLIGEE.

ALCOHOL HAS INDEED PLAYED AN INTRINSIC PART IN THE SMELL & QUIM HISTORY. INFACT BOTH LIVE, AND RECORDING ASPECTS OF THE BAND ONCE VERITABLY SWAM IN THE STUFF. NOWADAYS JOHN BARLEYCORN STILL PLAYS AN IMPORTANT PART IN ACTIVITIES, BUT IS USUALLY ADMINISTERED IN A MORE CONTROLLED MANNER. I MYSELF FOR EXAMPLE, WHEN PLAYING LIVE, LIKE TO GET MY MISE EN PLACE FULLY ORGANISED BEFORE HITTING THE STAGE, SO WILL ONLY HAVE A FEW GRAILFULS OF ESSENCE WHILST ACHIEVING THIS. WHEN THE SHOW HAS BEGUN, THE PROCEEDINGS CAN BE URGED ALONG FURTHER BY VARIOUS OTHER STIFFENERS AND REFRESHMENTS. AFTERWARDS IT IS ALWAYS NICE TO RELAX WITH A FEW POST-GIG WIND-DOWN BEVERAGES WHILST SOCIALISING AND SCHMOOZING WITH WHOEVER IS AVAILABLE FOR THIS PURPOSE.

RECORDING.

THESE DAYS IT IS A MUCH MORE GENTEEL PROCESS, WITH ONLY CIVILISED LIBATION BEING EMPLOYED AT THE CAPTURE STAGES, AND COMPLETE SOBRIETY AT THE MIXING STAGE.

RECENTLY I WAS INFORMED THAT THERE EXISTS SOME KIND OF FORUM ON THE INTERNET WHERE A FEW TALES OF MY DRINKING ESCAPADES HAVE BEEN POSTED. IF I MANAGE TO FIND THIS RESOURCE I MAY AT LAST MANAGE TO PIECE TOGETHER SOME MISSING CHUNKS OF MY PAST.

FAVOURITE DRINKS.

ANYONE WHO KNOWS ME WILL CONFIRM MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH TEQUILA AND MEZCAL. AS APERTIFS I FAVOUR ANY PASTIS, ABSINTHE, OR BECHEROVKA. GOOD RED WINE IS AN EVERYDAY STAPLE, AND WILD TURKEY, AND WRAY AND NEPHEWS RUM ARE FINE POST PRANDIALS. AS TO BEER, MY PREFERENCE IS FOR THE FINE BELGIAN ALES, ESPECIALLY THE TRAPPIST ONES. IN MY ESTIMATION WESTMALLE TRIPEL IS THE FINEST BEER IN THE WORLD. RECENTLY I HAVE ALSO BEEN ENJOYING LA TRAPPE DUBBEL

(NETHERLANDS TRAPPIST ALE) ON DRAUGHT.

There are rumoured sightings of you having been spotted propping the bar up in the Grove at Huddersfield. Has The Duncan [once favoured haunt of Smell & Quim in nearby Leeds] been shut down or has the smell of stale ale and pie farts driven you away?

IN RECENT YEARS PUBS IN THE UK HAVE BEEN CLOSING AT A RAPID RATE. THE GROVE IS A PRIME EXAMPLE OF HOW TO MAKE A PUB A SUCCESS. THAT IS, HAVE LOTS OF DIFFERENT DRINK. YOU COULD GO IN THERE EVERY DAY FOR A YEAR AND HAVE A DIFFERENT BEER EACH TIME WITHOUT EXHAUSTING THE MENU. THERES NOTHING SPECIAL ABOUT THE AMBIENCE OF THE PLACE, INFACT ITS QUITE NAFF IN MANY RESPECTS, ITS JUST THE QUALITY AND RANGE OF GOODS ON OFFER THAT PUT IT IN SPOT NUMERO UNO (PERHAPS IN THE ENTIRE COUNTRY) FOR A SWALLY. THE RANGE OF BEERS MEANS THAT YOU GET BORING CAMRA FUCKERS TALKING INCESSANT SHITE ABOUT BEER TRAINSPOTTING, BUT YOU ALSO GET THE ODD INTERESTING CHARACTER IN THERE FROM TIME TO TIME.

AS FOR THE DUNCAN, I DO NOT KNOW. I SELDOM GET TO LEEDS ANYMORE AS IT SEEMS TO BE A PLACE DEVOID OF ANY SOUL AT ALL. IN GENERAL SAM SMITHS (THE DUNCAN IS/WAS OF COURSE A SAM SMITHS HOUSE) PUBS ARE WORTH LOOKING OUT FOR DUE TO THE SENSIBLE PRICING. IF YOURE EVER IN LONDON CHECK OUT THE PRINCESS LOUISE IN HOLBORN WHICH IS A WONDERFULLY UNSPOILED ARCHITECTURAL GEM.

Anything else you’d like to add before I copy and paste all this into the websphere? Favourite grapes? Cities? West Yorkshire towns? [I always favour Batley due to the bat sculpture - I’m a sucker for modern gargoyles].

ALL FRUIT IS REPUGNANT UNTIL FERMENTED OR DISTILLED. ALL WEST YORKSHIRE TOWNS SHOULD ALSO BE FERMENTED OR DISTILLED. AS FOR CITIES, GENERALLY THEY ARE PRETTY GOOD IF THEY ARE, OR THEIR ORIGINS WERE, AS PORTS. A RIVER FLOWING THROUGH A CITY IS USUALLY A GOOD SIGN FOR ME, AS I HAVE A THING FOR RUNNING WATER.

Dieter Müh

Dieter Müh - The Call

Haemoccult Recordings 

LP 230 copies/white vinyl 

It is with these two 23 minutes tracks [natürlich] that Dieter Müh now enter the pantheon of great Industrial artists. That is not to say that what they have proffered us before is of a substandard rating and not worthy of inclusion into such a genre, far, far, far and further away from the truth could a statement ever be less true and smite me Holy Father for even thinking such a thing. But after listening to The Call since its release many moon since now it is with hand on wallet that I do solemnly swear that this is one of the best listens of my life and as good as anything else on the Industrial calendar, now, before, hence for ever and ever amen. What we have here is not simply the best Dieter Müh release to date but probably one of the best Industrial/ambient albums of all time. Let us not stop there though for the Mighty Müh have not only delivered one of the best industrial ambient releases of all time they have now firmly carved their names onto the walls of Industrial Culture there for all to see for eternity, one inch deep in granite never to be removed. It’s Mount Rushmore time in Müh land.

So why the superlatives? 

This is a timeless piece of work built on a steady trickle of studio and live performances as evinced over the last 15 years or so [and thats not including previous projects]. Dieter Müh’s live appearances are sporadic at best. Their recorded material comes in fits and starts too but it is with a measured hand that this material is laid upon us. The forming of their own label allows them to limit this to 230 copies [oh lordy] and issue it on thick heavy weight white vinyl thus ensuring that this is probably already sold out and gathering cult status as I tap. 

Everything fits, there’s no compromise. You have here not just a mere record but a historical artifact a piece of history a fucking heirloom ferrcristsakes.

So what’s it sound like?

Fans will be familiar with the way Dieter Müh build their sound out of treated samples, broken bones, spoken words and [occasionally] the odd electric string. Sounds unfamiliar to everyday hearing are commonplace here thus making every DM release a rewarding experience to your sonic spaceman. No cut and paste software here you honour. Organic is in laptops are out.

The masterstroke here is the inclusion [on the title track] of spoken word text by occult author and OTO member Lon Dilo DuQuette. This is a deft piece of association that fits like hand in glove and is the keystone that holds this whole thing together. Side two [Sutreworde] is a live outing of controlled evolving sound that explores everything from a struck bell to Lecter like jaw chatter. Every sound, note, movement and sample connects perfectly forming a complete whole that lifts this into exalted territory. 

The Call appears in five parts; each one a soporific drift of awing treated sounds that holds your attention like a hypnotist gaze. Adrift on the good ship industrial ambience and soaking up the effortless bowl drone this listener was shot bolt upright by the softly spoken lilting sound of DuQuette intoning an Enochian mantra. In a language I don’t understand DuQuette speaks gently, his words coming clearly in the manner of a torturer placating someone he’s just about to electrocute. Such are the impeccable production values that its as if DuQuette was in the room with you whispering his words an inch from your ear. Its an eerie and disquieting experience but still a thrill.

Sutreworde is a live recording from 2003. In Ausburg, Germany they flow effortlessly through a slew of perfectly fitting treated vocal samples and heartbeat rhythms. Lunatic screams, a bucket struck chime, a feeling of being slowly anaethatised, pulled under with a pillow held over your face. Towards your journeys end comes the DM mantra “we’re not happy ... ‘till you’re not happy”. There’s what sounds like power station outages, a heavy blast of residual force ebbing away into the emptiness.

Revelations From The New Silence

Revelations From The New Silence

Volume 1

Wholeness And The Implicate Order

Kovo CDR-051

Revelations From The New Silence

Volume 2

The Scalar Temple

Kovo CDR-052

Originally conceived as a meeting place for civil servants of the recently formed Indian nation The India Club now proves to be one of the cheapest and best curry houses in central London. Tucked away up a flight of narrow stairs on the Strand, the main dining room looks as if little has changed since it opened in the late 1940’s. Formica topped tables, odd chairs, pictures of Ghandi and window frames that have seen more than their fair share of Dulux one coat gloss make this as near to an Indian eating experience as you are likely to get without visiting Dehli. The menu is ‘veg’ and ‘non veg’ as are all true Indian menu’s, the prices are cheap, the waiters all have wobbly heads, you can bring your own beer or you can nip downstairs to the bar and buy bottled beers for reasonable prices. When I first came here about ten years ago the bar was run by an old lady called Doris who looked like she had become one with the tatty surroundings, sadly she’s been replaced by a young girl of eastern European descent but at least she now presides over a bar that has seen the tatty wing-backed leather chairs replaced with something that wouldn’t put a tear in your best slacks.

AA Gill once ate here and described the deep fried chillies as worth the trek alone. I once ate a plateful and thought my tongue was dissolving. This was after bumping into Gary Simmons in the Tate Modern resulting in an impromptu afternoon session in the Bath House in Soho. Tonights food was as good as you get in Bradford which is the highest compliment I can give an Indian Restaurant. It was nearly as good as what I’ve eaten in India but with eating in India you have the ambience and the added delight of running the gauntlet that is a bacterial infection. At least the toilets in the India Club have improved. Initial visits involved venting the bladder in a urinal with walls no further than two and a half feet apart.  It must have been the only toilet in London that you had to reverse out of.

The menu contains all the usual fare but with added mysteries like Uppuma, a semolina dish that can contain every vegetable under the sun depending on your mood but here comes with coconut, which Indians usually eat for breakfast, but the Indian Club doesn’t do breakfast, just lunch and dinner with dinner having last orders at the unusual time of 10.50pm. There are other rarities too including lemon pickle, Rasam [tomato soup], tomato omelet [?], egg curry, dahi vada [deep fried dall balls served with yoghurt] and those incendiary chilli bhajas. My lamb bhuna was excellent but what else we had is lost in a haze of beer. It was just like being in Bradford in the early 80’s, half cut, a waiter stood in front of you memorizing the orders of six different drunks without the aid of pen or paper and delivering it all without fault.

Corrigans in Mayfair is at the other end of the spectrum but equally worth your time and money. For those of you who judge a restaurant on its ability to stuff your gut at least cost Corrigans isn’t for you. I parted with the best part of £200 for dinner and if that figure makes you wince then I suggest you stick to making toast.

This was my first experience of fine dining and I must admit to being a little nervous. Maybe I should wear a tie? Maybe I wont be able to understand the wine list? What if the place is full of moneyed upper middle class posh bastards who’ll look down on us and will be able to tell instantly by our dress and brogue that we’re Northerners who got lost? I made only two gaffs. I ordered main courses assuming vegetables would accompany it but of course they don’t and I had a whisky as an aperitif. Not exactly a big a social gaffe say as necking wine from the bottle but the waiter did give me a funny look. After ordering our meal I almost shouted the waiter back saying he hand’t asked us about the wine but then thats the sommeliers job and he appeared soon after all efficient in blue apron accommodating my clumsy pronunciation [‘reezling’ or ‘rizling’ I never know which is which]. A close call. Then it all started, pure theatre. Amouse bouches that were deep fried olives stuffed with feta cheese, tiny cakes of deep fried bread covered in paprika. All heavenly. Then there was bread that tasted like chocolate. Starters were risotto, Mrs. Fisher with pea and mint and me with eel. Main courses of wild Irish salmon with Jersey Royals washed down with a superb Alsace Riesling. Puddings were vanilla ice cream with prunes marinated in Armagnac and all of it was a delight.

We went back last week for lunch. They’re doing a mid week lunch deal with three courses and a carafe of wine for £27 and if that price sticks in your craw then theres no hope. The French maitre d’ was just as hospitable, the receptionist equally so and with a smile that would have put a Colgate ad to shame. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an impressive set of teeth. The room was just as elegant in its understated art deco way and the food just as sublime. Being waited on hand and foot in such impressive surroundings is something that needs to be done. If the highlight of you dining out experience extends to Greggs then you are seriously missing out.

This time I ordered an Amontillado for aperitif. It did the job better than a whisky. The amuse bouche’s also did their job. The fish pie was incredible in its simplicity. When we both ordered the fish pie the Maitre d’ leant into me and whispered in a confiding way ‘the fish pie arnd the steak arnd kidney pie ur chefs favoreets’ and when it came to puddings and finding ourselves spoilt for choice he said nonchantly ‘eets a bank erliday so there eez no rush, I weel kerm back later’. It was all I could do to stop myself standing up and singing the Marseillaise. I wanted him to be my friend. I wanted to take him out for a drink and ask him why it is that in a country where for years the food was rightly derided the world over we now have chefs and restaurants that are capable of holding Michelin stars. Its hard to convey how welcoming a place Corrigans really is. I should never have felt intimidated that first time around but with hindsight maybe I shouldn’t have had the whisky, especially as how I finished off with one too.

All this apropos of nothing really. I’ve been listening to these two disc for days now and they wash over me with all the simplicity of a refreshing shower after a hot day. What made this such a weird package to receive though is described as follows; about ten or fifteen years ago I was put in touch with an American named Anthony Washburn [I think that was his name?] he ran a label of drone like proportions called Wholeness Recordings and released material of his own work under the name The Implicit Order. I submitted a track of my own humble work for consideration on a compilation he was collating and then heard nothing. Until a few weeks ago when I received a link to a site where said comp has been posted as a download. Listening to what I was up to all those years ago was slightly embarrassing what with me being a naive and unversed soul with a four track and too much beer in the house, but it was fun to hear it again.  Then these two discs appeared. I haven’t begun my investigations yet but the coincidence is remarkable. What is also remarkable is that Lea Cummings who once wielded an axe in Opaque and has made quite a name for himself with his one man noise terrorist act Kylie Minoise has now released two excellent drone albums. These works are more in the continental drift mould. Slowly shifting motifs of held down keys underpinned with ever so slightly oscillating motes of dust. A scared female wanders a house in a sci-fi film where you just now something awful is about to happen. You get the idea. If you told me these were snippets of La Monte Young’s longer works I wouldn’t have argued with you. Each track emerges like a distant vista in widescreen, the sun beating down melting your eyes. There is the odd track that ventures into more rhythmic, pulsing territory [The Third Coming on Volume One, The Pathway To Surrender on Volume Two] but I’ll remember these two releases for their ability to rinse away stress and for the fact that Lea Cummings has once more gone up in my estimation.

www.kovoroxsound.com

www.strand-continental.co.uk

www.corrigansmayfair.com