some fun from NARC. Magazine's May 2009 offerage:
Dressed In Wires - Mice Taster EP
Words: Luke Page
After a short hiatus, DiW has thankfully returned. For the uninitiated and in case it is not entirely clear after this review, this is electronic hardcore – a mash of beats and sounds ranging from genres of music not invented to dance and drone.
Listening to this EP, you can’t help but feel it as a filmic experience; sounds that are of this world, but not from this world keep the listener on an imaginative journey through the stories that unfold. Visualising a Flash Gorden vs Erasorhead plot that starts with a walkabout journey, transgresses towards a tribal animal chant and ends with sexual encounters with an alien in a Tokyo pop dance club, are all par for the course within the track And Observe This Curious Beast.
Generally ominous and unsettling, this EP is best listened to in a dark room on your own, dancing eyes closed and sweating out the comedic demons. But don’t let this ramble scare off those less masochistic of you, as the record is surprisingly accessible, with a fairly regular rhythm and songs that transcend merely the bizarre and touch beauty. If you’re even intrigued then you should buy it and have a listen.
the number of laptop punks whose music toes the line between
“violent” and “stupid” rapidly gaining
pace, Yorkshire’s Dressed in Wires (a.k.a. Simondo Topless)
has turned to Bill Hicks for inspiration on The Big Black Cock
of Death. A mangled car crash of digital hardcore, gabba, splattermash,
ear-bleed electronic hip-hop, and garbled white noise, this
Distraction Records picture-disc is clearly the work of a feverish,
centerpiece is arguably the epic, 13-minute “Hiroshima
Was a Shithole Anyway,” which tars hip-hop beats with
dancehall shout-outs, drum n’ bass peaks and Dizzee Rascal
breaks. There’s also the truly unhappy-hardcore finale
of “Blood Touching Glass” (a tribute to Sydney’s
face-glassing noise artist Justice Yeldham, perhaps?), a squelching
squall that ends the EP in suitably horrifying form. The relentless
speaker-hammering crunch—largely achieved through Topless’
use of guitar pedals—is often overwhelming, but balanced
by a resolute refusal to stick with an idea for too long.
get hold of a sheepish-looking ET:
hacksaw job on the E.T. theme turning it into a grinning digital
grind soon leads into a full-blown case of descending pixelated
rot. A climbing obstreperous clanker of a beat (something between
breakcore and leftover Ikea parts shaken in a jar) hauls up
to chest height a dread fuelled face punched electronic piece.
Reminiscent of a '80s synth soundtrack, this melodic centrepiece
of the 12 minute A side shows Dressed in Wires doesn’t
really want to crap on his own dinner plate. Even the expected
finale of a disassembled through degradation piece of possible
euro-pop doesn’t harm.
flipside, “Miscarriage, Where Were you”, appears
to take another screwdriver to the Spielberg / Williams partnership.
A much briefer piece, this stuttering scratchy shambles sees
high end feedback carving a melody out of rubbish like Merzbow
doing the Close Encounters theme. As ever, Dressed in Wires
is thoroughly entertaining.
Written by Scott
Sunday, 22 October 2006
ONE SON from Lowcut
it appears that the man who calls himself Simondo Topless has
a thing with making music that will annoy most people and enthral
the rest! This is released as a 12” Picture Disc and has
5 tracks with very strange and controversial names like Hiroshima
was a Shithole Anyway and Proposed Theme Tune #4 “Let’s
Hunt and Kill Billy Ray Cyrus”. The 12” opens with
The Breeders, which is some Coil meets Nine Inch Nails type
thing and quite cool. The whole production is very raw like
the old industrial stuff of the early 80’s, not the clean
stuff. Proposed Theme Tune #4 is something quite different with
strange music and a guy saying” Something saved your Pecker,
suck it” looped over and over. Strange…The last
track on side A is That Rarest of Beasts; Hay Parabola, Crack
Chikin/Nex Nine Times for Sunshine, a sort of twisted hip hop
thing with young black kids saying nasty shit… Hiroshima
was a shithole begins with a huge amount of noise that immediately
makes you go to the volume knob as a low bass just about blows
out your windows! It evolves into Mr.Topless having a little
drum battle on his laptop and going completely mad until a sort
of techno bass kicks in the sound intensity increases and then
the listener dies… This track lasts for 13 minutes. The
last track Blood Touching Glass makes you quite sure he is trying
to destroy your hearing.. Phew…..
If you dig: Coil, Nine
Inch Nails, Aphex Twin
4 Razors: Fantastic...like
in really really good.
of Cock, from our pal Slobodan on Serbian Radio.
LISTENING FOR THIS WEEK> Dressed In Wires THE BIG BLACK COCK
OF DEATH on Distraction
like Ministry should sound these days. It sounds like the granny
didn't gave the kids the promised cookies. And was later set
on fire. With all of her photo album memories. Kid 606 should
dress in wires. Britney Spears should have at least one friend
whose into this stuff. Cause Madonna doesn't. Big Black Cock
Of Death, as an expression, says more of the world than CNN's
two-hours coverage of the world's scariest ongoings. Dressed
In Wires made my girlfriend worry about me.
ONLY YOUR DIGNITY, SUCK IT
In Wires “The Big Black Cock Of Death” EP (Distraction
this a record I’ll be playing when I man the wheels of
steel at our local BNP disco this weekend, should go down a
bomb as well, you know how the Nazis love all that gothic electronic,
black metal disco stuff. Just as well that Dressed In Wires
are masters of these black arts, not so much fusing their metal,
disco, electronica and goth-glam as incinerating it with laser
beams from their retro-shaded eyes before chopping the ash into
mega-snort lines. This is a cracking slab of aural crack, and
here’s why; “The Breeders” sounds like a starship
battle in Thomas Dolby’s lab, but catchier and with a
better light show, oh, and someone slaughtering robot elephants
at the end. “Let’s Hunt & Kill Billy Ray Cyrus”,
for the idea alone, but the tune is nicely barking as someone
drawls the old Bill Hicks line, “sucking Satan’s
pecker” while a toy piano gets splatterated by clone drums
and doomy synth smashes. “Hiroshima Was A Shithole Anyway”,
over sentimental perhaps, but the tune is a kicker, guitars
hovering on feedback warp, one or two note bass assaults, heavy
breathing and drums programmed by Satan himself. It’s
really quite amazing and as Dressed In Wires are part of the
“hotbed of electronica talent spawning in the north-east
of England” I now know why Michael Owen jumped at the
chance to move to Newcastle. You just move to here www.dressedinwires.co.uk
and all will be well, or not.
in Wires ‘The Big Black Cock of Death’ EP (Distraction).
Ought to come with a parental and medical practitioners warning
this 5 track release from Dressed in Wires aside the fact that’s
it’s a head splitting glitch horror show of some measure
it’s so violent sounding that we swear we actually spied
our hi-fi wincing with tears of pain. Dressed in Wires is Simondo
Topless (you sure) who has it seems been terrorising the electronica
fraternity for a fair few years now having to date released
11 equally inspired and radio unfriendly albums (which sadly
have past us by - questions will be asked mind you). ‘The
Big Black Cock of Death’ EP (from herein referred to as
BBCD - because it’s a mouthful - boom boom - nah seriously
if I write that to many times I’ll either get a warning
message from AOL’s Room 101 spies or else I’ll subconsciously
start signing off my emails with it) features 5 cuts and lasts
a whopping 35 minutes all lovingly pressed on 12” of picture
disc vinyl and features who we assume to be Simondo on the front
either that or an adult sized Brains from Thunderbirds with
his grooviest Trevor and Simon ’Swing your Pants’
gear on. Ho hum - said enough - the music. We’ll start
by saying it’s rabid stuff especially the opening onslaught
’The Breeders’ - the kind of thing that a) will
win you admiring looks from neighbours b) scare the bejeezus
out of small pets, plants and ceiling plaster and c) is probably
the closest thing to recreating that sound of an aural autopsy
that you have in your mind’s eye as your ever gonna hear
for real on vinyl. Think prime time SPK ganging up with early
Front 242 to beat the living shite out of Einsturzende Neubauten.
A punk ’zoid battle ground of white hot industrial beats
bleeding from the inside of wired IDM structures (that’s
Insane Dance Music as opposed to the Intellectual variety).
Think upon it as a friendly and funkier variant of Merzbow and
the likes but all the same equally punishing and ruddy scary
with it. ’Proposed theme tune #4 for ’Let’s
hunt and kill Billy Ray Cyrus’ has if I’m not woefully
mistaken Bill Hicks samples - a screwed up hill-billy-hip-hop-abstract-scizoid-psychopathic-jaw-jarring-brain-bashing-head-fuck
- think we’ve covered everything there. ‘That rarest
of beasts; Hey Parabola, Crack Chikin / Nex Nine Times for Sunshine’
is well as un-fucken-friendly as you can get - obliquely grimy
and gritty hip hop - Run DMC and Grandmaster it ain’t.
‘Hiroshima was a shithole anyway’ title alone will
ensure the PC brigade are out with their flags picketing on
the steps of DiW’s sonic bunker but then title aside what
you get is some good honest wholesome lip smacking party boogying
sound scapes - okay I lie unless of course all the tools in
the shed have suddenly come to life to be found having acid
flashbacks and decided to re-enact ‘Psycho‘, this
is wickedly off the wall laptop manipulations being squeezed
through a blender at pace - and is that the Chipmunks I can
hear shrieking in the mix - well good riddance ya furry cute
lookin’ fuckers - of course we joke - rampant, un-danceable
but then what did you expect - tunes? - Well yes now you’ve
come to mention it. Last up ’Blood touching glass’
is what I can only describe as the sound I often hear when I
visit my local dentist except magnified a tad - under no circumstance
to be played in a room adorned by moveable objects, alone and
during the hours of darkness, think EAR and BBC Radiophonic
Workshop in the throes of a slow painful death at the hands
of a steel finger tipped Pimmon scratching down along a humungous
blackboard - guaranteed to make your ears bleed, your skin crawl
and your teeth grate. Consider yourselves warned enter at your
own peril. www.distractionrecords.com
, on receiving the Big Black Cock Of Death EP, April 2005. And
you can buy it from them!
you think 'The Big Black Cock of Death EP' is one of the best
record titles ever? That's what Dressed In Wires have called
their spanky new 12" picture disc on Distraction records.
This is crazy stuff indeed. There's something for everyone on
there, well maybe not everyone but it's hugely varied, covering
industrial, breakcore, ragga, electronica etc. It's excellent
as well. I think this will appeal to fans of late 80's Blast
First noise ala Big Black and Butthole Surfers and also folks
who dig Kid 606 and V Snares. It doesn't really sound like any
of them but it's gonna appeal to you folks I think. Not for
the faint hearted but the music and artwork (utterly superb!)
together are tremendous so this gets my record of the week.
review of Behold My Mighty Star, on the evil-sounding:
In Wires is Simondo Topless, a sampler/programmer. This disc
displays its influences openly: paranoia, nihilism, found
voices, samples, mutated and distorted synths, and an emphasis
on percussive sounds and rhythm over melody. Fans of Aphex
Twin and the solo work of Cabaret Voltaire's RH Kirk will
feel right at home with this disc. Almost every track has
a lot going on: polyrhythmic beds, multiple tempos, and stop/start
timing. Topless maintains control throughout, presenting a
coherent construction and varied sonic palette. He gets high
marks for using mixed timing, tempo and dynamics to avoid
monotony, the bane of industrial/IDM. Dressed in Wires features
a sense of humor: using binary numbering for the titles, and
its choice of samples to keep nihilism and paranoia from oppressively
dominating the disc.
For You, leads off with a Time Bandits sample warning: "Don't
touch it...it's evil," but if you're hearing it, it's
too late. The track features multiple layers of percussive
tones, ultimately approaching a gamelan-esque level. The layered
polyrhythm of the percussive figures calls to mind Steve Reich,
if he and his 18 musicians went to Indonesia and took a lot
of acid. Too Clever By Half, track 010 (or 2, for those of
you not conversant with binary notation), has sequenced glass
tones (the material, not the composer). The percussion flits
and darts through the mix. First Gay Black President, track
3 (I'll just stick to decimal numbering), stumbles a little.
The samples of extremely foul-mouthed children being used
for shock value is moderately funny on the first listen, but
wears thin fast. The martial beats and obnoxious voices are
offset by the delicate harp-like synth lead.
Elvis tribute titled I Can See Myself Cumming in Your Hair
Tonight uses juxtaposition to good effect: a robotic female
computer voice reads passages from Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork
Orange while the synths surf on sine waves. Burgesses' vision
of a shattered future is matched by the synth tones: loud,
insistent, forceful and discordant, like an alarm clock on
steroids. The drums are frenetic. Topless throws a complete
curveball ending by having the computer read the lyrics to
the old favorite Baby Face. I Will Scrape and Hurt You shows
off Topless's Cabaret Voltaire influence with shortwave radio
appearing in the mix. Toy and real pianos take turns leading
the way to a blippy, clicky ending. Aphids In Me has two drunks
singing about Manchester, and devolves from there into an
Aphex-like workout with stabs of sound and shattered, off
kilter rhythms. Track seven is noise, bleeps and noise. The
title pretty much sums it up: Industrial Noises Processed
and Arranged to Create Throbbing Cadence.
and Aphex Twin meet in Sheila is a Punk Tree Surgeon, which
moves as a slower pace and features mutated, distorted tortured
sounds, as if Topless had wrung the last bits of life out
of his machines. The song ends with more kids, this time spouting
gibberish and nursery rhymes instead of profane discussions
about killing smelly rabbits. Nine is a melodic, minor keyed
piece with just synths. The disc ends with Simone de Beauvoir,
featuring sampled clocks.
entertaining and enjoyable release.
evil sponges out of 7)
- - - - - - - -
they also review the Estrunax Sampler.....
dad, it's evil – don’t touch it", says a
child’s voice at the start. And I can think of a lot
of folk, such as people who like their music less spiky, less
demanding, who may agree with that devilish description. But
what the hell, that’s their loss, because this eleven
track sampler album from the Estrunax label (whose motto is
"Music for the good side of your brain") certainly
has its moments.
In Wires, from Yorkshire, England, open the proceedings with
what the label describes as laptop music "with a DIY
garage punk approach, using a CD full of cracked software
and a cheap soundcard." And, impressive they are, too.
The Autechre-like opener, Lactating For You, features a pretty,
music box-like melody underpinned by a stomping beat that
drops in and out to good effect. Dressed In Wires also provide
a couple of other tracks. The charmingly titled I Can See
Myself Cumming In Your Hair Tonight contains loopy noises,
sampled voices and what sounds like someone shaking a bit
of tin sheeting, while Aphids In Me marries electronica’s
very own version of a screeching neo-metal riff with a piano
that comes in from nowhere so quickly that it sounds like
it’s being thrown down the stairs. Bizarrely, it reminds
me of Gang Of Four’s He’d Send in the Army!!
04 and it's off to the Land we know as Ameri-Ca for a review
of Behold My Mighty Star, on :
need for BabelFish with this, just aboot.
hailing from The People's Republic Of Yorkshire, Simondo Topless,
the man behind Dresssed in Wires is firmly entrenching himself
in the hotbed of electronica talent blossoming in the North
East of England. Or so he says. I usually don't care much
for drum machines but I have to admit I really like this cd.
It reminds me of the mid 80's when every goofball got a Tascam
4 track except this doesn't suck, it's very good. This is
Simondo's first release on Estrunex and seems to be a collection
of the best of his previous releases? With Behold My Mighty
Star, Dressed in Wires delivers a kind of neo-romantico distorted
psychedelic electronica record with a DIY vst punk twist.
Also has great song titles like "First Gay Black President",
with samples of kids cussing sampled from the movie Gummo,
which my brother has been trying to get me see for years.
we find ourselves at the forefront of those stumbling into
a new approach to noisemaking: eschewing the crystal-crisp
sound of the usual warp-wannabes and instead contriving an
aesthetic from the dirty cheap sounds from dirty cheap equipment.
Song titles like "I can see myself cumming in your hair
tonight" and "I will scrape and hurt you",
this isn't the kinda stuff I often listen to but I have to
say this is pretty impressive. At first I couldn't quite decide
if it was really annoying but I later went with pure genius.
I prefer the songs without the drum machines. This is the
only cd I've heard that plays on pause, is this something
new? The song Sheila has really cool little kid vocals.
Dressed in Wires we find bursts of clix'n'glitchy drill-und-bass;
hardcore drone using his souped-up, heavily modded, hacked
and cracked laptop, all precariously wired together with a
few guitar distortion pedals. The listener is greeted with
a hail of electro noise, beautiful and intense, in a world
of chaos and clarity, sucking you in and demanding your attention.
In Wires es el proyecto de Simondo Topless, de Yorkshire (UK),
el cual produce su música desde un portatil "utilizando
un CD lleno de software pirateado y una tarjeta de sonido
El resultado es una mezcla digital furiosa en donde se mezclan
los sonidos más duros con los beats más rápidos
para crear algo que, como dice el artista, "podría
matar al oyente de una ostia en la cara".
todo esto está combinado con algunos pasajes de gran
belleza y armonía. Este es el caso de temas como "Lactating
for You" -construido a partir de arpegios de carrillón
y breakbeats-, "First Gay Black President" -en donde
los ritmos Electro son rodeados de arpegios de arpa-, o la
abstracta "I Will Scrape and Hurt You". Todos estos
temas contrastan con el ruido digital y la energía
hardcore de temas como "I Can See Myself Cumming in Your
Hair Tonight" (Puedo verme corriendome en tu cara ésta
diría que esto me suena a música Cyberpunk,
no me refiero a lo que la gente suele llamar cyberpunk, pero
en su actitud es bastante cyberpunk. ¿O es que hay
algo más cyberpunk que el mismo Simondo Topless tirando
teclas de ordenador al público en sus actuaciones?.
Aunque Keith Emerson solía hacer lo mismo hace ya 30
Speaky no Spanish? Good old AltaVista Babelfish to the rescue!
In Wires is the project of Simondo Topless, of Yorkshire (UK),
which produces its music from a portatil "utilizando
a full CD of pirateado software and a card of sound barata".
The result is a furious digital mixture in where the hardest
sounds with beats are mixed more expresses to create something
that, as the artist says, "podría to kill to the
one listener ostia in cara".
all this is combined with some passages of great beauty and
harmony. This it is the case of subjects like "Lactating
for You" - constructed from arpegios of carrillón
and breakbeats -, "First Gay Black President" -
in where the Electro rates are surrounded by arpegios of ARPA
-, or abstract "I Will Scrape and Hurt You". All
these subjects resist with the digital noise and the energy
hardcore of subjects like "I Dog See Myself Cumming in
Your Hair Tonight" (I can see corriendome in your face
this one night me).
would say that this sounds to music Cyberpunk to me, I do
not talk about to which people usually call Cyberpunk, but
in his attitude it is enough Cyberpunk. Or it is that more
Cyberpunk is something than the same Simondo Topless throwing
keys of computer to the public in its performances. Although
Keith Emerson used to do the same does 30 long years already...
Estrunax label tags itself as a purveyor of ‘music for the
good side of your brain’, a description that should be taken
together with Dressed In Wires and the words ‘Mighty Star’
as a complete, self-contained description of what you’ll find
here. Dressed In Wires is Simondo Topless, and this is the sound
of a disembodied brain wrapping itself in copper and launching itself
into the void of space. ‘I Will Scrape And Hurt You’
places him in orbit around Jupiter, buffeted by the volcanic action
of its many moons, while on ‘Sheila Is A Punk Tree Surgeon’
it sounds like he’s thrown his synthesiser and a stray guitar
out of a spaceship and before it can fall to Earth they’ve
got tangled up and are bouncing violently off the hull. On ‘First
Gay Black President’ however he’s floating on his back
down the mysterious canals of Mars. It’s some trip; frequently
violent, just as frequently bucolic, yet it’s always alive.
Didn’t someone tell this young man that experimental electronica
is supposed to be a cold, dead place?
und a half mighty stars out of 5)
review of Behold My Mighty Star on ChainDLK
website , June 2004.
MY MIGHTY STAR is the first official album by Dressed In Wires,
a solo project headed by Simon Earp. The ten tracks of the CD
gather irony (try to think how songs titled "First gay
black president" or "I can see myself cumming in your
hair tonight" could sound), electronic sperimentalism and
good intuitions. Particular vocal samples gives humanity to
the tracks while razor blade sounds (like the ones on "Aphids
in me") give rhythm, cutting in two the atmosphere just
to make space to new rhythmical structures and to some sick
atmosphere. Everything is packed with a DIY atmosphere and the
insane imprint of the project makes you wonder what's coming
next. When IDM bands seem to be too pretentious, Dressed In
Wires arrives just to clean the blackboard of modern music with
his impetuous way of doing. If you think that Simon's music
is a joke, you're wrong as he seems to be dead serious about
what he's doing. If you are into industrial, IDM and electronic
sperimentalism allow me to suggest you this project, then let
me know what do you think about it.
Mighty Stars Out of Five)
review of Behold My Mighty Star on French website autresdirections.net,
can't figure out if this is a good or bad review, but here's the
version of the text having been put through the Alta Vista Babelfish
translator.... a stunning piece of technology breaking down linguistic
barriers across Europe near you.
album published on the French label Estrunax Records, Dressed
In Wires posts as of the first piece of pretty sonorities tintinnabulantes,
a light concerto for small bells in the medium of which rhythmic
is invited dries completely in shift. Piece unfortunately not
very inclined with the variations, but there remains the title
of the track, Lactating For You, rather strange. Too Clever
By Half connects on tablecloths of keyboard dramatizing for
a piece which gains in power as the samples colonize it. Not
really of blow of glare, a loop sinks but not really charismatic,
Dressed In Wires affectionne the disillusioned landscapes sound,
a little futuristic, rather rigid. Introduced by a dialogue
of the impolite fellow Gummo d' Harmony Korine, First Gay Black
President continuous in the way of the absurd titles and joins
again with vibrating metal sonorities. Tended piece, once more
calcified, the music is maltreated there by an overshrill sample
which seems to lacerate it briskly. One feels a little more
the concern which traverses the tracks like an adrenalin which
is infused and pushed the structures to bandage their muscles
wildly. The end of the piece is a kind of strident flight which
contracts you the jaw the air of nothing. And gradually, Behold
My Mighty Star appears dark, very dark, exploring oppressive
cybernetic universes, depicting the night landscapes of a yelling
futuristic city whose steel heart can constantly to pack frantically
and howl. Liver Of Love, symphony synthetic for keyboards grandiloquents,
awakes an obscure tragedy and surprises by making valser the
robots in their clothes of rust, making them whirl with death.
A small tear, ambiguous, for a definitely sordid screen.
violence, man-machine duel, conspiring computers, a constant
electric tension authorizes only very rare variations towards
softness, relative bus unceasingly drowned to the medium of
worrying echoes. The melodies, in fact, are often ruined and
unmatched, morbid and revealing of an infernal bug in the beautiful
silica machine. Dressed In Wires assene without pity its drones
overshrill and its rates/rhythms desiccated for a true musical
nightmare, tells corrompu and highly-strung person whose fairies
are biomechanical junkies and the princes of fascistic mackerels
accros to the ultraviolence. A beautiful quite modern history,
all things considered.
there y'gan. My fairies are nazi mackerel royalty.
Artists "Sampler Et Reproches" CD Estrunax (www.estrunaxrecords.co.uk)
An excellent introduction to the Estrunax roster which consists
of musicians from Yorkshire (Dressed In Wires), Israel (Bloke)
and France (POiNT and label founders Les 7 Mondes). The varied
electronica contained on the CD is a strong argument for small
labels like this producing music every bit as worthwhile as
the big guns. My only problem is new signing Dressed in Wires'
prurient track titles; "Lactating for you" and "I
can see myself cumming in your hair tonight". Jesus,
this is putting me off my cornflakes!
DIW review? in The Crack? Are they so desperate to fill their
pages? Below is actually the extended "Director's Cut"
of the text, as the printed version was cut down to make way
for a Michela Johnson interview with Rialto. Reliably informed,
The Girly Clearout (Bear With Me)
Yet more flippant electronica fury from Heaton
resident Simondo Topless – aka Dressed In Wires –
‘The Girly Clearout’ is flirtier, dirtier, and
more sexually obsessed / repressed than ever. Self-produced,
self-pressed, with suitably surreal song-titles, this 15-tracker
boasts beats for which the term ‘eclectic’ barely
serves justice, percussion that even a prozac-popping multi-limbed
android would struggle to keep accurate time with, and a million
samples stolen from films you’ll barely recall.
‘The Girly Clearout’ is available now from RPM
costing £5. Seek www.dressedinwires.co.uk for more.
reviews in printed prosperity. So where can I get a Crack T-Shirt?
Oh, they're so kind:
Weekender - August 3
Split into two days, this indoor festival brought together
the best of rock/alternative on the Saturday and electronica
on the Sunday.
The Sunday started and ended with Dressed In Wires, with his
own brand of beautiful noise, which ended in a hail of feedback
and technology beating.
The leftfield dance of Seismic followed with a stop off at
the beautiful pop of Fun With Light and then the onslaught
techno from Monofonix.
The dark atmospherics of Leyenda gave way to Astro and Prism,
with their crowd pleasing dancey Autechre-esque beats and
Tears of Abraham kept the high standard going with an eclectic
set, which appealed to everyone and resulted in destroyed
equipment and a massive round of applause.
Cathode provided a set of amazing laptop electronica and Caro-Snatch
did a set of vocalised pop recalling the likes of Peaches
and Miss Kitten.
So a fantastic showcase of the best of the North East scene,
I can’t wait for the next one!
To Betsy! A review of the first Dog Und Parrot gig... This appeared
in the August 2003 edition of The Crack (Or it was supposed to.
Was probably cut to make way for a Mavis interview or some such.)
hailed as the ‘Heaton Kid 606’ is a hard label to
live up to and anticipation was rife. Armed only with a laptop,
the crowd held their breath and they were greeted with a hail
of electro noise, beautiful and intense. This is punk rock fed
through a laptop; it’s like computers expressing emotion
This is electronica you cannot ignore and read a book to, it
challenges the brain and sucks you into a world of chaos and
If this is the debut, we definitely will hear more from this
cyber noise merchant around Newcastle and beyond.
D.I.W at the Distraction weekender at The Cluny on August 3;see
the gig guide for more details.
in Wires article which appeared in the June 2003 issue
of The Crack magazine. I like the bit about the soft underbelly.
Ian Fletcher. Photie by Steve Strode
have heard the whisper. The one about the Kid606 of Heaton. It's
been more of a murmur actually, so perhaps not. Yet, he really does
exist, in the shape of Simondo Topless, a resident just off Chillingham
Road. And yes, there are similarities between this purveyor of "car-crash
soundtracks" and America's electronic upstart. It's there in the
digital overloads, the schizophrenic mood-swings and the wry pisstakes.
Also in track-titles like 'There's A Party In My Mouth And Everyone's
Invited' and 'First Gay Black President'.There are links in other
that like Kid606, Newcastle's Dressed In Wires is capable of more,
especially when he shows his soft underbelly beneath a brazen exterior.
With DIW, for every chaotic punk-rock of the preset, there are sprinklings
of melodic melancholy, and both are equally engrossing. Starting
out as a guitarist "in the Thurston Moore vein", he eventually became
"disillusioned at the bullshit of getting bands together" before
finally deciding to "take on the perception that laptopping isn't
'real' musicianship". So now there's just him, and a "heavily hacked
laptop, with a few distortion pedals".
DIW has been "churning out half-a-dozen tracks a week", "taking
computer music and throwing it into the ring with a DIY punk approach",
"treading a fine-line between palatable, and noise that wants to
physically kick people". This is the strict cause and contradiction
of DIW. With an LP entitled 'Well Why Don't We Just Give Up And
Join The Queue For Cash Machines' impending, and his first live
performance confirmed for Distraction's August Weekender; the future
for our very own Kid606 is shining brightly indeed. Just the exact
way he probably doesn't like it.
|Cheers Ian... cheque's in the dog.