Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Fadensonnen - White Night (FR006 - April 2012)


The nine track high energy debut album of Fadensonnen - presented in sub-Faust Tape bootleg glory. Destructo-improv-rock action to re-sensify the nervous system.




Via Christopher Stigliano's excellent Blog To Comm: 

Ah, yet another newie to sparkle my senses this week, the latest platter from PD Fadensonnen and his partner in sound RD. On this go 'round the duo make even more of an atonal blur of raucous spew than they have the previous five or so releases, trying to do their best to make the most hard-nailed sounds (viz a viz Chrome filtered through Les Rallizes Denudes' amplifiers) utilizing everything from anvil and snake phase shifter guitars and tape manipulations to stylophones, and rather than coming off like typical ten year olds jerkin' 'round with Big Brothers' stereo equipment this does take off on a rather feral bent. If you are one who is searching for the missing link between WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT (or side two of FUNHOUSE) and METAL MACHINE MUSIC, you may have found it right here!!

Personal faves are "Lunar Stomp" and "Manhattan Tongues" (yours may differ), but "Snake Charmer": does have a certain appeal like one of those Can Ethnic Musical Forgeries. Whatever your likes, this is one that wouldn't look or sound too outta place in your industrial/avant music collection where it and the entire Fadensonnen catalog belong, natch!
Via Carter Mullin at the excellent Olive Music :
Even some of the most open advocates of the Stooges' seminal 1970 album Fun House couldn't stand its final song "L.A. Blues" for its unsettling formlessness and perhaps inability to provide a climactic rock anthem closing. Hearing Fadensonnen's White Night makes the thought of their seething even stronger, for the album is essentially that same abrasion spread across 48 minutes and even less intelligible than the Stooges' sprawling noisemonger tendencies.

On their debut, the New York duo explore free-rock obfuscation, rife with grooves awash in marbleized amplification. Though Fadensonnen haven't the slightest air of black metal in them, a comparison to Wold wouldn't be too far of a stretch: amidst the sonic blur-- all percussion muffled and the definition of other instruments abstracted-- a curiosity of what lies beneath prevails. The liner notes dispel that mystery, though, listing stylophone, toy saxophone, slide whistle, and tape manipulation among others, but whether they're discernible is another discussion in itself.

White Night has potential to be the wildest psych-rock discombobulation of the year, filtering rock bombast through the abstruse flavors of musique concrete, free jazz, and noise. Muscular, flange-doused chords emerge from the opening of "Black Heat" just seconds before cymbal clatter and wah noodling consume them whole. Fadensonnen are keen on disorienting listeners, but they employ more than barrage tactics: they provide a defined (albeit confounding) progression for the following "Fire Of Nights", for upon reaching an apogee of damaged guitar swathed in screams, it dissolves into an understated drone, accumulating reversed clangor and sweeping back into chaos. Among the most schematically piquant is "Do The Slide", lost in the elaborate cognition of assorted percussion and electric tampering. It's not difficult to find that Fadensonnen have a method to their madness, but chances are that only they themselves get it.
Via the excellent Gumshoe Grove :
I’ve never understood why the word “busy” carries with it a negative connotation. I’ve had my drumming called “busy,” so perhaps that’s a personal quirk of mine, but when it comes to describing a band’s attributes, why isn’t “busy” considered a compliment? Would folks rather hear something “lazy,” “laid back” and/or “ill considered”?


And so it is: Fadensonnen are a “busy” band, but in the best sense of the word. It’s as if a metric ton of high-hat swipes, guitar squiggles and candy-cane effects swirls have been poured into a funnel, then pumped out as high-energy BB’s in humble, bite-sized form.

Or at least that’s how the first few tracks, “Hudson River Blues” and “Black Heat,” pan out. Trudge on, however, and you’ll find yourself trapped in a withering blizzard of noise snow, white-hot and blinding as battery acid poured on the ol’ peepers. Eventually the pattern turns back to the frenzied onslaught described in the previous paragraph, and in no way is that a discouraging development. If I were to nit-pick, I suppose I’d request a bit more variation once the all-out squall hits; nothing major, just a few more nudges this way or that to pinch me out of the improv dream I keep drifting into while the assembly line is running.

“Lunar Stomp” comes close to offering a more herk-jerk premise with its brutal bumper-car bounce, and the possibilities revealed by 15-minutes-plus closer “Onu Ba” shine smilingly upon future variety; still, at time the scrum becomes so intense the brighter colors mash into brown purely by dint of sonic aggression. Which is, actually, pretty fuckin’ cool if you think about it but perhaps not the best way to make the inner ear tingle and/or exhibit the credentials of the players (if you must know: shit, all I got is they’re attached to Black To Comm in some way, and one of them is in King Crab).
Then again, it was likely their distinct intention to do exactly what they did, which is marry the improv instrumentation of bands like Matta Gawa, Talibam! (both also duos), Toy Killers and Notekillers with hard-psyche and the all-out brain-kill of the loudest noiseniks/noisekings/noisads like The New Blockaders and John Wiese. They’re extremely successful, almost painfully so, which leaves the question: Where do we go from here? Have Fadensonnen backed themselves into a corner with the extreme teeth-gnashing of White Night?

I’m sure they’ll be fine.

Is it a surprise that Weasel Walter mastered this session for CD? Oh FUG-EXPLODE no; his fingerprints rest all over this recording, particularly in the way the sonic cavalcade collides against itself while retaining its distinct pieces throughout. I mentioned earlier that the instruments occasionally “mash” together and I figured I should clarify that: Often within White Night I find that the only thing mitigating the madness driving beneath the torrential muck is the crystal-clear — yet satisfyingly damaged — production. If it weren’t for a skilled hand separating the pinks from the yellows, blues and reds you’d end up with a smudge of skronky shit (though I’d still probably dig it).



Via the long running website of tastemaker Jon Worley at Aiding & Abetting:

FadensonnenWhite Night(Fadensonnen Records)

A certain PD and RD are responsible for the chaos of this album. You should be on your knees. In chains, preferably. This is music of utter bondage. Once you enter the album, you will be defenseless against its charms.

Charms, of course, is a relative term. The distorted riffage and generally deconstructed lines of the songs (a loose term, to be sure) are aggressive and mean. The sound is abrasive and harsh. The effect is impossibly liberating.

So you get it or you don't. These are songs, not just tone poems, and they do say something. They probably aren't the future of rock and roll (though I wouldn't rule it out), but they're goddamned thrilling. Chaos abounds and life flows.

And not inconsiderable brilliance. Absolutely lovely fare, if you construe lovely the way I do. Fadensonnen is mean, rude and avaricious. Totally lovely.


Via Roctober Fanzine:

If you are a paranoid schizophrenic obsessed with human slaughter and small animal torture, and you’ve suffered multiple concussions and an inner ear injury, then you’ve already heard this record. In your head.