An international compilation cassette (C-60) compiled and produced by Christof Migone.
Cassette cover spray-painted silver and wrapped with wire from the cassette inside to the cover.
Published by see///.saw tapes (now defunct). Other release on this cassette-only label: Identification.
Scroll down for REVIEWS.
SIDE A
1. Babouches Folles lech el khouf (0:40)
by François Wolf (Montreal).
2. PoMoCoMo Becoming Nobody (3:20)
by Andreas Kitzman & Rafael Lozano-Hemmer (Montreal).
3. !Bang Elektronika Stceffetra (1:42)
by Dave Rout (St. Catharines, Ontario).
4. chainsaw 23B Squatt (2:14)
From the archives of Radio Zones (Ferney-Voltaire, France).
5. Nitroglycerine les circus girls du salem (3:28)
by Nathalie Dion, Patricia Maurice, Lucie Ouimet, Christel Pierra, Magali Babin, and Guy Boulanger (Montreal).
9. Black Citron Je suis descendue de ma planète (2:44)
by Christine Wildboz—bass, Aissa Bousalem—guitar, Jean-Luc Schumacher—percussions, Evelyne Dufour—voice.
An incredible collection of collaged sound works and other experiments. This flows really well, even like a complete work in itself. Great stuff.
Robin James, EAR Magazine (New York)
A total treasure chest of strange sounding collages with lots of political messages and excellent sonic events.
Andy Pierce, Lowlife Magazine (Atlanta)
This compilation by largely French Canadian artists (with contributions from Switzerland, Italy, New York, Tennessee, and elsewhere) is one of the most astounding collections of sound I’ve heard since the Rising From the Red Sand series way back when. A good measure of radio cut-ups, psychomemetic spoken word, and twisted-to-heck-and-back musics to leave your head reeling and your ears ringing. No further need to justify the tape’s worthiness. My favourite stuff on side A: The PoMoCoMo’s “Becoming Nobody”—residents of the Global Village, realizing the Philosopher’s Stone as voices, noise, House loops and whatever was handy, recombine and justify the power of sound collage. Nitroglycerine’s “les circus girls du salem”—some girls who have contemplated carousel music when the brass ring was enuf—a mix of Ringling Bros. and Night Gallery. (Yeah, I can’t follow you either.) Black Citron, “Je suis decendue de ma planête”—spunky folk stylings en français recalling something having to do with hotels and money and telling it like it is. If World of Skin made love to the Jody Grind. Right, don’t make me sick. Roughage’s “The Explosive Power” turns Whitehouse into White Cloud—the most atrocious, unlistenable noiz ever. Side B: spoken word is almost buried by Hakim Bey’s “Armour Fou”: “Words belong to those who use them only (until) someone else steals them back.” Right on, Brother! Deadpan, subtle textual exploration of glut. This is deadly stuff, easily capable of sapping the life force from that useless skeleton W.S. Burroughs. “Moroccan Reels” by Idle Reels is a restrained interpretation of the Joujouka tradition. Amazingly sombre string drones and pained vocals speaking some musical language no person has ever heard. Closing out this side, Postmodern swell head Jean-François Lyotard attacks the resistance, malaise, and affected frivolity so characteristic of our waning century and in no less than sixteen seconds! If you read this mag and pass on this comp, you suck.