a r t i s t : The Stumps Vs. Ohm
t i t l e : At Murder Shed
d a t e : 2005
l a b e l : Paha Porvari
g e n r e : Psychedelic/Noise Rock
r l s. d a t e : nov/2009
t r a c k s : 03
b i t r a t e : VBRkbps
s i z e : 61,9 MB
_______________________________________________________________________
"Step up to the power of The Stumps! New Zealands psyche
(think Fushitsusha not Grateful Dead!) monsters team up for a
drunken 'one off' with deep space dronesters Ohm. Features
members of Nether Dawn, Seht, Pumice, Black Boned Angel,
Birchville Cat Motel, Sandoz Lab Technicians... and about 100
others. Buckle down for the apocalypse... this is brilliant!"
- Celebrate/Psi/Phenomenon website
"It's raining but not too much. Cars running by on wheels of
white noise as I'm checking outside for the others to arrive.
Door knocks and they're here... in comes Pumice and Birchville
and the rest of The Stumps and a couple of cases of beer which
we immediately begin to devour.
We repair to the recording studio... it's what we call the
recording studio, anyway... it's my art studio and the home of
The Stumps. A giant run-down corrugated-iron warehouse in an
old condemned industrial compound down the road; it's
notorious for two artists, one party, gang-style
fortess-ifications, two brothers from the same crime family,
and one brutal murder. It's in limbo and it's been that way
for nigh-on thirty years. Times passes slow on
motorway-designated land. Buildings age almost as you watch
them... oil-stained concrete, weeds, rotting planks, pools of
lichen, gutters hanging and gone, rodents, paint hardening and
lifting and blowing away... ghosts...
Fall cassette in and on and blasting as we chat and pass round
more beers and start to set up... suddenly Stefan is away,
rattling at his kit while James configures his guitar's output
for takeoff. Campbell is making electronic soup, deafening,
and Antony plays louder than I've ever heard and my ears are
ringing, bleeding noise, before we've barely begun. I've built
a polyphonic bass drone loop which I'm laying waveforms over
but my head is full of Sunn O))) and Sabbath and my fingers
itching and aching, playing my lowered-4th litany over and
over and over and over. Campbell is growling, or singing or
something and then I'm watching Stefan and he's watching me
and we lock together and we're rocking and rocking... Campbell
and Ant have combined and twine an agonising feedback pierce
then without warning James tunes in and blasts off in a
startlingly prosaic solo that climbs and climbs through
registers to meet them...
And then we must break, exhausted, wind it down. We can't go
on like this. But now Ant busts into a guitar riff which
sparks Stefan into a furious march, some kind of a tattoo and
we're off again. I'm watching him again and I slap on another
riff and I'm watching him as we slip together and I'm looking
at my feet and now I'm pushing my volume pedal, pushing it
through the floor. I want to beat the bulldozers and the
wreckin' balls... I want to knock the shed down around us
somehow with my sub-harmonics. Something is rattling and
Stefan gone mad with drum fills breaks us up and I could swear
I just saw him throw his head back and howl. Campbell kills us
with a sear of hiss and we slowly topple over into a warm,
colossal drone.
The rattling is my amp. I'm wondering if my speaker is wrecked
but I can't care now, this is too good for bummer thoughts
like that to interfere with. I'm parched and bug-eyed and I
have to drink a beer so I drink a beer. We have to relax for a
while now, surely, we have to rack it back a couple. Antony
starts poking little shards of cosmic sonar as us. Campbell is
singing and humming and droning along and Stefan accompanies
them, pushing into their interplay at acute angles and complex
tangents. I've decided to hell with it and start stepping up
the filter on the synth-drone and it gets rougher and rougher
and rawer and louder and then James throws a raised-5th
feedback line all over me and now I'm as loud as I can be, as
loud as I'm ever gonna be. This is our hymn, our prayer to the
gods of music and beer and rain and friends and we transcend,
climax together and it's all gone quiet.
The rain falls on the iron roof. Stefan's snare buzzes
tiredly. Someone's delay parameters collapse into themselves.
We pack up, drink more beer, turn the lights off and leave."
- album liner notes
http://www.myspace.com/pahaporvari
_______________________________________________________________________
01-Rockin' A [23:49]
02-Rockin' B [08:57]
03-Rollin' [09:00]
-------
41:46 min