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March 21st, 2006 by Eric K (Permalink)
Label: Brother Rat Year: 2006 Add Comments |
31st December 1999, and the world is in a state of extreme apprehension. Witness the bearded harbinger as he stands atop his wormwood-infested soapbox announcing the coming apocalypse; furrow your brow at the broadsheets warning of global consumer credit reset and the collapse of Western capitalism as we know it; peer anxiously from your window-seat at the people-ants busying about on the ground, steering clear of immanent plummet-dom and puffing up a dozen flights of stairs rather than trust their fate to the god of silicon. But the second millennium came and went, our microwaves didn’t turn our chicken kormas into anti-matter and ATMs didn’t start spitting blood. Truth be told, six years on and we’re still in a state of relief about it all (by virtue of K’s Law: the more absurd the fear the more hysteric the reaction. See also: bird flu). As with anything that seeps deeply into the public consciousness, it cannot help spilling over into the art world and consequently we’ve seen an exponential explosion in music reflecting a morbid fascination with the destructive potential of our dependence on technology.
The first release on newly-created label Brother Rat Recordings, and the first full-length release from apoplectic noise-monger, Brother Rat, Fear of a Rat Planet, lets loose the full-frontal cacophony of post-y2k heebie-jeebies. A squirming mass of trojans, worms and viruses scrabble to be heard above the glitch-drenched din, worrying at the cerebral cortex like hungry honeybees tugging at a frail and wilting flower. It’s an unsettling and suspense-driven listen and speaks (presumably in binary so I doubt if anyone’s listening) directly to the auto-tuned, airbrushed cynicism of pop culture. Pretentious journo-musings aside however, Brother Rat hold their own against the legion of similar-minded noise-warriors, and this record will suitably pass the time between the next release from their uber-prolific peers: Wolf Eyes, Merzbow, Prurient et al. Seriously though, how many more people are going to pun Public Enemy (surely the undoubted kings of the pun in contemporary music). I hereby proclaim the PE-pun fund closed for business. The two may appear unlikely bedfellows but squint your eyes and you can just make out the imposing figure of Chuck D standing at the gates of the terrordome, dual-barettas in hand, making a LOT OF NOISE.
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