Artist: VIOLATED CUMRAG
Keywords: dark web experimental sega dreamcast thrash metal forests harsh noise harsh noise wall noise phantasm post-internet power electronics sound collage London
Label: DOOMER PATROL
When you force yourself to listen to everything, you might as well embrace deafness first, so all the rest that you would listen afterwards can’t be coming across so badly. With this in mind I had cuddled up with the gruesome artwork and possibly out to offend (or out gross) the gatekeepers on fakebook and co with the artist’s title. i hope that listening and writing about this release of noise by Violated Cumrag was a good idea… but than again, it might have been worth the risk, right? Probably not, but somehow I enjoy doing it anyway. It must be a sign of being a mental mess:
I miss my internet friend Curtis and I hope we will meet again one day’ is a track title that brings so many questions; who is this Curtis? How did they befriend each other? Was it through a friend request or perhaps someone from the MySpace time? Did this person disappear online or… endless questions can be raised and the music that lays behind it answers zero of them. It’s just a shower head aimed at your face and the water tap open on full force, letting your head be crushed on a fury of sound that somehow brings some old croaky wooden doors within it. Things open and close as the stream keeps spraying its loudness into the ears. It stops at least for three times, making it seem as if it’s some kind of story chopped into chapters. An odd story as all I read is black lines; a bit like a declassified file that is fully censored. It keeps the whole Curtis mystery a true mystery. Also you might gain a little earache along the way; free of charge I presume!
Than the artist responsible of the audio on this release seem to throw in another title that speaks more to the imagination but seems to have nothing to do with the actual flushing sound waves that are forever glued together to it. This one is called ‘angel’ and comes and goes like crushing waves that had flushed out all ability of musicalities and rinsed it so much that all I could think of is getting my ears pierced by the sound of the terrible salty sea that comes and goes for a refreshing yet deafening bit of harshness. Not at all the expected sound of an angel but than again; who knows? I’ve never met or heard one before… but if this is the sound of an actual angel I feel that you can’t look away as this winged creature must be huge and not at all as kind and gentle that the holy books want to make you believe that ‘they’ are.
‘The Virgins are getting laid tonight’ is another title for something that seems to be a bit extreme in the audio world. Things are sharp like well used teeth and all friendliness seemed to have been tossed away in order to make some space for a heavy grinding that isn’t at all for the faint hearted followers of the pope’s stories; everything seems to be sliced and chopped, destroyed an shredded in a painful way. No angel wings will be flapping around here and if this is the sound of virgin flaps being filled it must be a really traumatic and painful ordeal.
‘Tourettes’ is up next, one that you expect to be filled with Tourette words but instead is a smothered sensation of odd harsh noise that might or might not have been roots in vocal expressions. I had to put the sound a bit lower as I got slightly overwhelmed by this point, right on time perhaps as somehow the whole ordeal seemed to kick in like a bunch of gabber hardcore kicks that couldn’t out-battle the harsh noise sound that it was already swimming in. It could be quite the pinch in the face if you wouldn’t prepared yourself for it.
Than there is ‘r9k’ which is a title that I can’t put my finger on, or I could and than the whole title would fit right under my finger’s tip. It’s an odd duckling among the other tracks, a bit of a resting point perhaps. Something that the ears of a listeners probably will be thankful for as whatever you think of this album by this Violated Cumrag artist, it had been mostly not very forgiving to the ears. It’s probably something that the fans of this sound enjoy; a little bit of pain on the ears here and there with fancy titles that torment the mental abilities of a listener at the same time; probably evoking some kind of internal error along the way. Whatever rows your boat, right?
I guess it’s a good time to type something about boats as the track titled ‘justin’ seemed to feel at times also as if we have entered one. You can hear the peddles splash into the water, up and down pushing the boat forward until the stream of the water gets do violent that it will be totally unneeded to have any peddling done, it hisses it sizzles, its flushing itself down the drain like a waterfall whose water had been replaced by knives. Within it there is some fun, but mostly it’s straight hell.
Of course the last track named ‘one take freestyle’ can’t be suddenly a work of contemporary beauty, a composition close to Bach and Mozart or anything else that would be remembered for years to come. But here on this album it might actually be the best one, you can hear the expressiveness of it all. The spontaneity, the underlying bigness, the upper-flying hisses. Yes it ain’t a funny listen, it isn’t the holy grail of noise or the best Halloween soundtrack you will scare your friends with; but it does come across as the kind of loudness that the artist seemed to have had quite some spontaneous fun with while naming it on the spot. It’s like a good pooh with an endless successful industrial flush that will leave the ears and head in a state of ‘why the hell did I hear this & why would anyone write up a textual analysis of it?’… life is so full of mysteries, eh?