forthwritten: black and white photo of a mixing desk (mixing desk)
forthwritten ([personal profile] forthwritten) wrote2014-09-22 09:09 pm

music recs

Sometimes I just want to listen to music that sound like a metal bin full of shit being kicked off a wall. I listened to a lot of industrial music as a teenager and sometimes I still want to be overwhelmed by noise. When I lived in shared housing, I would often deploy a mix of industrial noise, weird experimental music in horrible time signatures and the Vengaboys if my housemates were having sex in inappropriate areas of the house.

I mentioned my enjoyment of music that sounds like a repeatedly kicked bin on twitter, while listening to Einstürzende Neubauten, and people were kind enough to give me listening recs.













One of my friends recommended Arseny Avraamov's Symphony Of Factory Sirens which involves "a huge cast of choirs (joined by spectators), the foghorns of the entire Soviet Caspian flotilla, two batteries of artillery guns, a number of full infantry regiments (including a machine-gun division) hydroplanes, and all the factory sirens of Baku" so obviously I'm very pleased.



Usually, if I want noise, I play the KLF's It's Grim Up North. I first heard this from my co-presenter when I did student radio and adored it from first listen.



It needs to be played loud enough so you can feel the driving, thunderous beat in your chest. It conjures up the industrial heartlands, the M62, abandoned warehouses, rain, illegal raves, lorries roaring past you on a wet road; the Norse names chanted over glitches and synths and crackling, claustrophobic and tight and dense. There's a tremendous sense of movement and barely controlled power, as if at any moment everything might break free into unimaginable chaos. And then, just as you're unsure whether it will hold together, Jerusalem emerges against the beat and screeches and sirens; stately and unhurried. At first the relentless beat and chant of "it's grim up north" is juxtaposed against the music; but the the other sounds die away as the hymn swells, as expansive and dignified as I've ever heard it. And at the end, all you are left with are the birds cawing and the sound of the wind sweeping over the desolate moors.