OLD CAT.

This is The old catalog. The archive. Some of this stuff is still around, so if you are really curious, drop us a line. Thanks.

The loud companion to "Your Million Brazilian Tour Mix-tape", Jerk takes on the skewed pop form and moves it about in a rotting painting all under 18 minutes. Where "YMBTM" languishes and relishes long silence and space, "Greypuke" takes it all back and sputters and shivers across all of its "tracks".

Pushing their their way toward an inner Valhalla, via Cleveland, Fried Drugs come home. As several developments in jazz in the last few years have shown, no one really needs to state all those chords that nearly everyone uses, and as some events have shown, if someone does not state them or if a soloist implies them, he may end up with a harassed running up and down scales at those "advanced" intervals like a rat in a harmonic maze. Someone had to break through the walls that those harmonies have built and restore melody-but, again, we realize this only after Fried Drugs has begun to do it

Finally out, this recording fraught with complications since it's inception, is now finding its place among the walls of your bedroom. Hardcore jazz drumming, thrumming, screaming. Recorded in the summer of 2006.

Haven't heard this a lot lately. Punks from the Kansas to the City create wobbly wandered post-neil young anthems if you recorded them at night during a three ring battle clipping the clods a clots. Finish might make you Swedish, but then the joke would only not be on you. Can't get that Grandpa mask outta the attic fast enough. Look, it's YOUR life!

Trio outta Chicago and Baltimore and more. Whirling Sax, bass, and drums. If Black Flag had decided to turn into Jazz, it might sound like this. Recorded live at Valentine's in Portland for the 2009 T.A.M.E.S.S. tour. Fake Lake, I love you. Will you go to the prom with me? This is our limousine.

Kansas City moment collector Jeffery Rocketmild summoned this prayer with the help of a few charged friends at his roost on Troost. At times, the bass takes a repeated walk on water, other times this piece is carried away by the Siroungi's song. Psychic times.

ETHNIC GHETTO E.T. WET SEX SOURCE

E.T. WET SEX:

SEXUALIZED SPACETRAVEL. DEATH COMBINED WITH EROTIC INTENT IN UNDERWEAR. AWAITING SWEATY ACID BLOODED FUCK MOUTH E.T. (ADVANCING)

ENTERING SPACE SUIT TO BATTLE HR GIGER SEX CREATURE AND EROTICIZED DEATH SIMULTANEOUSLY. SUCCESS.

SEE:

RIDLEY SCOTT’S SLOW PAN OF SIGOURNEY WEAVER ENTERING SPACE SUIT IN THE FILM ALIEN (MAYBE)

ETHNIC MUSIC GHETTO:

WHERE WERE YOU? .

RECORDED MARCH 2010 BY BILL DOOB

PORTLAND ORGASM

KARAMAZOV O33

Taboo is a really vile band. This recording is so thick and it goes so deep that it makes me want to shit. They have little to no internet presence and I've never seen 'em live (though they do tour), so this tape is all I have to go on. What I do know is that they are three semi-humans and they are from Troy Maine, but even that might be incorrect/more than I'm supposed to know. This a fucking long tape! One side is a murky and relentless "studio" session and the other is cleanly recorded (but not preformed) live set that gives you a little more insight on the instrumentation/sound of the group. Hallmarks of that sound are: throbbing percussion, relentless feedback psych guitaring(?) a la Les Rallizes Denudes, wretched screaming vocals with a heafty ammount of effects. This band ain't pretty and should appeal to fans of Wolf Eyes/Hair Police. I would prefer it if the vocals came through a little better because they are totally sick, but it's hard to find fault with a band this committed to making you feel so totally unpleasant. At 90 minutes you really can't go wrong with this baby and it is the strongest and most unique of the six things we got from the label.
-http://cassettegods.blogspot.com/

Cool stark slowish ballads from a Sacramento crooner. Take this camping and watch the woodland animals gather around the fire and drink yr whisky with you. Like a sweat on yrself, as you you you turn in.

A weird, weird tape.

Arpeggio loops that are maybe guitars pitched up or keyboards? Sounds like its going to be a typical loop pedal party of 'loop a' over 'loop b' so and so on until it's 'intense' and maybe feels 'new age' or something, but instead these remain some sort of song, with the first track sounding like some sort of new romantic / college rock thing complete with misanthropic / apocalyptic lyrics all accompanied by tight drumming.

I imagine this being performed with 'lighting' and maybe even smoke and the singer / guitarist looking at the crowd a lot and never changing their facial expression while they play these dark and brooding guitar lines / loops. In a perfect world the loops would be taken care of by two keyboardists with pale skin, maybe one of them is androgynous.

The second side takes a little bit of a turn (unfortunate for me because i was having so much fun imagining their 1983 stage show). The structural use of the looping is traded in for minimal piano and reverbed out vocals that chase the melody played on the keyboard and, along with the melancholy, has traces of some consonance. The next track fulfills my dreams of darkness, dropping a textural metallic steam bath that morphs into a loose poetry like sing songy bit that feels like it was recorded three inches off the ground making everything wobbly and a little out of focus.

I would really like to see what this is like live!
Makes me feel WEIRD.

:from CASSETTE GODS REVIEWS

OOH how! Another installment from the cranium of genius. Get this one and put it in yr bathroom and crank up the stereo. On the pot, or in the shower, while away the time and be very funny! Ha!

Our L'il Wayne! runaway hits by the trackingest Sax player to hit this twine. Sudan of Million Brazilians creates layers of haunt and a jaunt to the stars. Play.

"Don't Believe it, it's only half-real" duo collaboration with G. Corum, Million Brazilians guitar player, and FiFe of New Hampshire. Listen with a glass of port and a mind of ease.

Next release after the fabulous and influential Collage I. In the same vein, but better? Butter. People: Stepmother is a force to be reckoned

slow summah jams without purity. call me hated, call me call me. Lionel Ritchie

Total Stumper. Sounds to all the world like a lo-fi, nth generation audience cassette of some Hawkwind-damaged metal group." Byron Coley, The Wire. Members of Taboo and Mating Dance.

Long awaited Collaboration between these two behemoths recorded for the Doors' 2003 reunion tour. As seen on The Tonight Show w/ Jay Leno.

Traditional Indonesian gamelan meets surprisingly funky jazz in this strange and charming showdown of musical opposites. - Raf, Eggy Tapes. Jazz Outfit from Kansas City, Mo.

Aloha!!! remember when you were eleven and you and yr buds got together and made fart-y sounds and did the Bartman and screamed and recorded it all but then whatever yr mom threw the tapes away or you moved and lost them? Well, luckily for us, the mad geniuses behind Weird Mix held onto those tapes, and now the world can know!!!

A strange and wonderful world unto itself, this tape is the "lost" L.P. of a 4-tracker bedroom weirdo, recorded 10 years ago. "Trouble" is equal parts ramshackle pop songs and audio experiments, both calming and disturbed, all radiating the aura of a found object." Raf Spielman, Eggy Tapes

Seth and Amanda might be a duo from Kansas City. This tape is a long-form exploration of homemade electronic noise, mangled synthesizers and strange radio transmissions. On the one hand, it's pretty harsh stuff, on the other, it's relatively restrained; each

noise and texture has room to breath. Lots of cool sounds and moments of weird beauty on this tape." Raf Spielman. Eggy Tapes

Oregon teen electronics by Forrest Wright include some weird sourced sounds, combined with a compositional dynamic that feels like a little electronic festival held in an underwater grotto. Moves to many bubbly places for a one-sided tape." Byron Coley, The Wire