You know the old expression "like a ton of bricks" doesn't even come close here to describe the raw sounds of DIAL. The weight of a mountain is what DIAL drops on you with their absolutely crushing 5-song debut EP. The austere New Zealand outfit DIAL successfully channels the darkest corners of the AmRep catalog, the raw ferocity of classic hardcore, offtime kilter of math-rock, and the whole concept that music can actually be dangerous.
i know, this is long over due...i have been a funk so bad as of the past month. After my dad passed last month, i feel i have neglected my blog all together. I am trying to get NEW stuff to post for you guys. In the meantime, this pic was sent to me by my friend Mark Lynch. As many of you may or may not know, i am HUGE Sunn amp collector. I guess this would be me if i lived in Mexico! HA Enjoy, and look for more posts(I PROMISE).
Guitar players are usually blown away by the Hendrix-in-a-wind tunnel primordial intensity of German guitarist Caspar Brotzmann and his early 90’s trio, Massaker. However, I’d imagine that any reader of this blog would appreciate the truly sinister and downright monstrous force that redefined the power trio while incorporating elements of Hendrix and Cream and mixing them with the primal thud of Einsteurzende Neubauten and Swans. Top that all off with the free jazz approach of Caspar’s father, saxophonist Peter Brotzmann (who had played in Last Exit and collaborated with greats like Sonny Sharrock) and it might somewhat describe the lanky guitarist’s nightmarish sounds.
In 1992, the year that the trio’s second album Der Abend Der Schwarzen Folklore(roughly translated as “the Afternoon of Black Folklore”) was released and the band was incredible. Brotzmann is tall, skinny and dressed like Jimi Hendrix in 1968 and he played his guitar with much of the same passion (not to mention also being left-handed and playing an upside-down Fender Stratocaster.) The band on the whole was so unbelievably loud it sounded like a jet taking off for much of the set. And, I suspected that the monitors on stage were equally as ear-crushing, because the drummer kept wincing and turning his head away from his monitor and constantly begging in German for them to be turned down. The track, “Schwarze Folklore” is indeed a long one, but listen through the whole thing — the creepy zombie chants and neo-industrial drum breakdowns further bolster the song that sounds simultaneously like a Pagan ritual and the rapturous rupture of a factory’s machinery gone haywire. I had the privilege to see him on tour in 1995 with godheadSilo. They were amazing!
