OUT NOW ON 93DOT93: C L VRS, ‘DRAG†BONES’ 18/JAN/2018

‘So Cease to Resist. Relax and enjoy the PandaemonAeon.’

PHIL HINE

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Witch house, now THAT escalated quickly, did it not? At one point it seemed as though it might be the grunge of 21st century: dark, distorted, drug-fueled, with aesthetics far broader and more influential than the alleged ‘movement’ itself – and ultimately assimilated into mainstream in a blink of an eye. And then recycled by fakes and their masters ad nauseam. It also might have seemed that the spiritual renewal that Alan Chapman prophesied in one of his books, with exponential growth of interest in all things magick in the West throughout past few decades, is finally showing its unicornish mug behind tainted and shat upon rainbow of our hopes and dreams. But mostly what happened is time getting tighter together, faster and faster, to a final crunch right ahead of us. SALEM are goners, WHITE RING too; SINS took of his mask and went on to produce more traditional dance music, oOoOO is… ah, forget it. It’s all gone now, isn’t it?

Of course not. As much as the whole thing faded into something bordering on a fad, nothing is ever over. Influences linger and people continue making music. About the self-released 2014 debut by faceless South Serbian producer and Chaos Magick aficionado, I Vacation in Your Hell zine wrote at some point: ‘There are moments when the witch surfaces, but this album is mostly a showcase of the journey of sound. Makes me proud to know bitches are making music this beautiful. Carry on.’

So, on this neat date of 18. 1. 18. we are proud to present the sophomore release by this drag / screwgaze / industrial one-man act – unlike aforementioned debut which strayed into trip-hop and Burial-influenced atmospherics, DRAG†BONES shows reinvigorated enthusiasm for industrial roots of whatever kind of post-whatever is witch house being passed for these days. Less chopped & screwed, more hard-hitting and distorted than its predecessor, it is guaranteed to stir some evil within just about any fan of industrial influenced dance music, not only SALEM nostalgics.

Be sure to check it out here, and show us some love.

93DOT93

 

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OUT NOW ON 93DOT93: VIIIO, ‘AΩS EP’ 30/DEC/2017

Sometimes we just can’t let go.

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On Austin Osman Spare’s birthday, we treat you to some of the coldest, darkest, most minimal synth-driven ambient music to ever appear on 93DOT93. Five uneasy pieces dedicated to failure to move on – beyond knowledge, beyond body, beyond ego, beyond language. Some of us disagree with the answer to the ultimate question. And that’s perfectly okay.

Listen to it and/or buy it (paid download gets you two bonus tracks) at our official Bandcamp page.

OUT NOW ON 93DOT93: Dunduew/Tearpalm, ‘LIVE2010’ 1/MAY/2017

What is it that Beltane fires should burn away?

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Album cover by Hive Studio, source image by Ves (video)

If I can remember it correctly, it was like this: the proposal came from Tamara, through Mihajlo – why don’t we do it live, on air, at Novi Radio Beograd (Serbian for: New Radio Belgrade), which at the time was temporarily nested at 20/44, one of Belgrade’s favorite after dark joints. Instantly, I loved the idea: not only that Mihajlo’s industrial project Dunduew, was a brotherly musical endeavor (we had already shared a stage before to a mutual satisfaction) but Tearpalm as a live outfit was in its peak form – we even had studio rehearsals prior to this one. Last addition to this nite’s magick was Nenad ‘Johhny’ Racković, perhaps Belgrade’s wildest long-lasting underground visual and multimedia artist, actor and writer – and he was to VJ through the whole thing.

And he DID: using mostly pieces of his outrageous previous video work and volumes of dark and brutal porn which, combined with the fact that we were scheduled afore a sizzling house music party caused interesting commotions in the audience during the show. Or so I was told, since I noticed very little while shredding guitar and abusing keyboards.

Anyhow, the show was and still is one of my personal favorites: be it rapid, heartbeat-like machinery and Suicide-ish (think Frankie Teardrop, but LOUDER) death chants of Dunduew, or our own psychedelick reeling with fits of industrial noise rage, and singing in trance-induced temporary madness (or touch of Gnostic light, as I felt about it then), it did capture a perfect moment in our live history together, and makes a good start for the ‘purge’ announced here earlier this year. This was also the last time our original live member Miloš played with us, contributing some mean guitars to I Was a Terrible Son .666 (arguably the best live version we ever did) and Ka punom obliku.

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Dunduew and Tearpalm join forces for the finish. Photo: Jelena Marković

Album is available through 93DOT93 official Bandcamp page, for a well-known uniform fee; it is a remastered and slightly remixed (to contain some ambiance from from video document of the evening, filmed by our dear friend Ves) perfect soundboard out recording, and IT KICKS ASS. But don’t take my word for it – feel free to head over to our Bandcamp and check it out.

May Beltane fires burn away all but joy of life within us all!

OUT NOW ON 93DOT93: Tearpalm, ‘Duh .418’ 2/FEB/2017

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First Tearpalm release in a while is out now, as announced. It is a grim offering, much in the same vein as the material previously released here as a part of ØØØ Edition, albeit far more removed from any source of light. Produced crudely and at points left at a stage of a bedroom sketch (most notably on Nova smrt, its only vocal-driven track), it is both consistent with project’s early days of sound manipulation and lo-fi noise and violently different from psychedelic, occult themed post-industrial electronica developed by the band over the years of playing live. Resembling the DIY ethos of 80s cassette culture and first wave black metal, this opener of an announced series of releases planned for project’s 10th anniversary leads the listener out of any map of music industry, into uncharted fringes of alienated, socially challenged experience of its author, a tapestry of death-obsessed escapism and hysterical notions of futility underlying our life’s struggles.

Paid download gets you a bonus, a massive ambient piece (and, in addition to Poslednji dah, perhaps the most ‘listenable’ track of the whole release) Bardo Chönyid – named after a Tibetan idea of nightmarish realm between death and rebirth awaiting those uncapable of letting go, plus an excerpt of a analogue radio recording around which the title track is built.

NOT for everyone. But then, what is?

Get it here.

COMING SOON: Of Ghosts, Skeletons and New Beginnings

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Kumodraška 7Xx, 11000 Beograd, Serbia, 2015.

I arrived in Belgrade from the lowest southern point of Serbia sometime in October of 2015; in a fit of helpless rage, I fled from constant indignity and pain inflicted daily on me by someone I stupidly considered my ally in this life, in order to prevent the last of the best of me from disappearing completely. I was now a parent, a role I feared for most of my life, painfully aware that I am completely unable to protect a child from this world to a degree I feel a parent should – and at the same time, instantly inamored with the child to a point of the rest of the world just fading into nothing. And already it was time to leave – to love my daughter meant to go away, so that her days can be rid of tension and bitterness that immature so-called adults smear their days with. It also meant for me to go on and shoulder a burden of absence from her life and excruciating pain of her absence from mine. I took a night train with refugees out of town and after a completely insane invisible tour through most of the towns I lived in over the years, I ended up in a small subterranean room in a place my mother used to rent in Belgrade – cold turkey off my meds for clinical depression, ill and sad beyond imaginable, with a keyboard controller, Mom’s ancient PC and my guitar. One night I used a dictaphone to dispel the dread and sadness performing a little ritual: I let something in me surf AM radio in the kitchen for a couple of minutes, handing over control of my hands to something I did not entirely recognize as a part of my self. I met a ghost. And so will You, if You care to listen. It is still woven into warped waveform of that session and scant instrumentation I provided over time, feeling the same dismay that prevented me from creating music as I used to.

This Imbolc, I will start the purge that should untie my hands once again. Tearpalm enters the second decade of its existence – and may it sound its presence with joy and violence according to its nature, until the very end.

Cheers,

That Guy from Tearpalm

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Seeing ghosts, cca. February 2016.