Review: Homogenized Terrestrials / Andrew Quitter / Cruudeuces / Dog Hallucination - The Moon is Hungry
(2 x cassette, Intangible Cat, 2014)
The roads of Illinois may form a perfect grid, but the Illinois-born bastard psychedelia label Intangible Cat is certainly off the grid. Ever since their first akwwardly small 3” CD-R from the fried circuit outfit Amalgamated, I’ve been growing into the sound of the label collecting a bunch of otherwordly weirdos and their other projects, such as Dog Hallucination or Gushing Cloud. And it looks like that Intangible Cat team decided to step up their game and release something on cassette - but not just one cassette, but a double cassette, paired with some rad artwork carrying some signs of a cosmos-gazing Photoshop era Zdzisław Beksiński.
The first tape, the black one, is dubbed “The Moon Tape” and with a sticker showing a satellite panorama of our only natural satellite. Parting sides between Homogenized Terrestrials on side A and Andrew Quitter on side B. The Terrestrials decide to play more on silence than on sound and thus provide a slyly unfolding ambient piece based on tape loops and field recordings. Despite their “earthly” name, the Terrestrials present the more “alien” end of the experimental music spectrum, working on pre-recorded sounds in surprising and often spine-chilling ways, creating a wall of frozen ambience imbued with glitchy loops and fuzzy, intriguing textures whose source can no longer be identified. Andrew Quitter jumps onto the more cavernous, yet earthy primeval folk trip, with tribal drumming continuously beating a raw, simple path through the thick tapestry of electronic drones and darkened ambient aesthetics, with a bit of unplanned genius when the Facebook notification sound springs the listener back to awareness from the half-stupor induced by the psychedelic meanderings steeped in tape hiss.
Another cassette is entitled “Earth Tape” and is white and adorned with a satellite picture of the Earth itself. The Earth Tape is parted between Cruudeuces on side A and Dog Hallucination on side B. Cruudeuces’ Nathaniel Brennan (the owner of the Ghetto Naturalist Series label, btw) offers a murky, truly and absolutely no-fi noisy rambling not unlike the darkest, most chaotic moments of The Skaters, which is saying a lot, knowing how far from normal the work of The Skaters was. These are some post-apocalyptic hymns, with war robots walking the scorched wastelands and shooting the remaining victims, who are infected with radiation poisoning, but are still struggling and walking. Films like Terminator or Threads spring to mind, when conronted with rusted harsh drone of Brennan. The salvation comes with the last side of the Earth cassette, this time from Intangible Cat label owner Dog Hallucination jumping into the cosmic, progressive ambience with the Klaus Schulze feeling and finally some melody, as distorted and glitched out it might be. DH finally brings peace to the rattled soul and mind, after having survived the ragged death zone of Cruudeuces. Here one can gaze at galaxies and unnaturally large moons hovering in the night sky against the silhouettes of the bombed-out skyscrapers of what once could’ve been Chicago. Or Cleveland. Or whatever stood here a hundred years ago. It’s all gone. With a hypnotic, apocalyptic end Intangible Cat stands out with a solid four-way split between four differetn drone-heads.