COIMS – R Barb Column

Artist: COIMS
Title: R Barb Column
Keywords: experimental abstract alltonal ambient dubjazz electronic esoteric loops primitive Bristol
Label: Aphelion Editions

‘Tomorrows Gosling’ sounds at first as if someone had been playing around with a rusty fence. A little bit of oil would have sorted the noises out, but than the start of this track would have probably not sounded so good in invitations us. It lies its listeners in like a pied piper that couldn’t effort the flute. After the fence work it’s some kind of rhythm that feels very hands on and slippery, as if it is being executed on a upside down plastic bucket by a fanatic percussionist that had ‘adventure’ as its main nature.

Half way it suddenly begins to bang quite manically with a freakish voice that says hello in its seemingly own indescribable language. Not sure if it’s coming out of a human, monster or a beast, but I know that it makes the recording into something that would interest the freaks. We are getting some slight ambient bits after that, one in which we could hear someone digging up dirt, probably digging a new grave where our ‘normal’ music taste can lay in. We can hear the distinctive voice moaning in some kind of sadness in the backdrop, as if it is crying for our loss as we are buried alive by our own failure of checking this music out. It’s complex, that’s for sure. The voice seems sad and yet it seems self responsible to make that hole and place us in with a fine amount of sand as our blanket of pure suffocation. Maybe this track has issues?

But wait! Even though burried alive, we still seem to be able to hear another track. This one is ‘Strachans Michaela’ which is as sounding as if we are in a wooden coffin and the character is trying to dig us up with a shovel. It’s not your average sounding adventure as silence will reveal intensity, as if we had passed out only to be awoken by the hovering faceless face of our mysterious tormentor. It seems that we are left out, we can feel the breeze of fresh air, but also danger that lurks from close hearing range. We better stay paralyzed in the opened coffin as the creator seemingly lurks around, burning a fire of noise and avant-garde-drumming. A howling guitar seems to be the expressive voice now, one that feels determined to be crazy and weirdly misunderstood.

We can feel the creature telegraphing out its location to fellow strangers, the excitement of it is good enough to be paralyzed with a potential heart attack. Footsteps step around our ‘hiding place’ and sounds creep on us like a watching pair of hungry but hopeful eyes ready to face us face to face from a very close range. We are picked up – lifeless from strange fear – the creature takes us around it’s strange campsite, a laboratory of some kind perhaps. Our stiff body becomes a slow dancing partner in this track’s grip. It mumbles something that nobody could understand and than suddenly BLACK. I must have fainted or simply got squeezed too much, but when I woke up again I was back in the ‘normal’ dimension penning up a write up for this strange encounter of weird music.
https://aphelioneditions.bandcamp.com/album/r-barb-column
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