Baltimore
Citypaper Online:
Even murkier [than Thuja] is the music of Fflint Central,
which is technically a CD-R label, not a collective. Many of its
bands share members, some of whom run the label, and all of its
releases are mysterious experiments that hide sound sources and
participants beneath a droning, undulating surface.
Malpractice
samples Fflint’s catalog of 20-plus albums, presenting six
groups across 20 hypnotizing tracks. The enigmatic trio Berkowitz,
Lake, and Dahmer provide the most diverse material, with five
tracks of bubbling, wryly humorous noise. “Fluids for Dark
Pleasures” builds a virtual zoo out of organic synths, “Locate
and Cement” turns blurting noise into a near-dance loop,
and the hilarious “Cirrhosis of the Cormorant” sounds
like a busted game of laser tag.
Elsewhere
on Malpractice, Pendro juggles distorted blips and cracked computer
loops, at times evoking a blurry nth-generation copy of ’60s
electro-popsters Perrey-Kingsley. Cousin Silas mixes dramatic
piano and foggy underwater ambiance, peaking with “Somnambula
Creche,” which sounds like an aging arcade game being euthanized
with a chain saw. The rest of Malpractice similarly mesmerizes,
combining cleverly inventive wit with singular sound creation.
The anonymous achievements of Fflint Central may not remain obscure,
but it’s doubtful that outside influence will ever affect
its roster’s wonderfully insular vision. [Marc Masters]
Disquiet:
Malpractice collects 20 chunks of often formless noise as a kind
of primer for Fflint, the CD-R label that has championed its own
brand of outsider sound art since the late 1990s. The contents
range from rhythmically enticing cues to contorted vocals, from
inchoate drones to barely retouched field recordings, from raw
feedback to just plain goofy hypnotic weirdness.
Bubblehead:
A bit of a regular for late night listening
these days , must ask me neighbours what they thought of it seeping
through the walls at midnight. ( I can hear their arguments and
stuff so I'm sure they must be able to hear my sounds ).
EvilSponge:
WARNING!
Any Abba fans who disliked The Smiths because Morrissey &
Marr didn't write proper tunes, please stop reading now. This
is not your cup of tea. And those of you who preferred the Beatles
before they grew those silly moustaches, stop right there as you
won't like it. Or, to put it in Radiohead terms if you like, should
you wish Thom Yorke and his band of merry men would stop messing
with all that sqiddly electronic shit and sing proper songs about
fake plastic trees, then it's fair to say one this isn't for you.
Because, ladies and gentlemen, THIS IS SCARY SHIT!!
I
mean it. Don't go complaining to your shrink that you've been
having nightmares since you played this, because it won't wash.
Still
with me? OK. You have been warned.
Malpractice
is a compilation of material that has previously been released
in cd-r form on the Fflint Central label (US readers please note
the all-important 'ff'. This is the Flint in North Wales, not
that in Michigan). I'd checked out their website some time ago
where I'd experienced the pleasures of the exquisitely named Berkowitz,
Lake & Dahmer and rapidly come to the conclusion that this
was what can only be described as hardcore. It was relentless
and uncompromising, but in this sanitised society it was hard
not to admire it.
Of
course, before I first played this album, I did wonder whether
I was just being a lightweight and whether it really was as difficult
as I had remembered. You know how age can play tricks with that
memory. So it was pleasing to discover that, though there are
definitely a few grey hairs making their presence known, the memory
is still intact, because these boys at Fflint Central show they
mean business from the first moment. The opening track, which
is titled - wait for it - Invocation Of My Demon Budgie, features
a drill-like noise that definitely sorts the men from the boys.
Burra
Folly 2 by The Gideon Leeches follows and, with its lovely chiming
guitars, is probably the most accessible moment here. After this
there's a lot to get through as there's twenty tracks in all on
this album, and most of them are spiky little beasts that you
really need to get to know for awhile before they truly become
accepted as your loveable pet. Indeed, there are moments when
it almost becomes too much; after all, you're reading a review
by someone who thinks Everlasting Love is one of the greatest
pop songs ever. There's definitely times that a track ending brings
with it a sense of peace that you had forgotten still existed
when it was playing and holding you in its evil grasp. But repeated
plays really do pay dividends and the amount of highlights increase
per listen.
Here's
mine...
Pendro's
Flip sounds like some weird update on a Scottish jig. It's like
The Skids gone electronica, which isn't something you could say
about his Tazoa Torture Temple with its "I will impregnate
you" mantra and fairground noises. That's disturbing...
Then
there is Warlock Hill by Cousin Silas, which has a sense of beauty
in its eeriness. Locate And Cement by the aforementioned Berkowitz,
Lake & Dahmer has an altogether more rhythmic feel than a
lot of material here and is possibly my favourite track on the
album.
And
I must also give a special mention to Cavendish Sanguine's Helium
Veneer, which opens like the soundtrack to the scariest movie
you will ever see, before it climaxes with what sounds like the
death scene. But it holds it, and holds it seemingly forever.
This death scene just won't end. It's harrowing. It truly is the
sound of Armageddon. Cavendish Sanguine also provide two other
of my favourites. Botallack is lovely, and should go on for much
longer than the mere minute or so here, and Azeotrope is...well,
it's just plain creepy. Leave that light on, kids.
Indeed,
I reckon this album should come with a warning. This is what I
think it should say on the cover:
Do
not play this when your parents pop round on a Sunday afternoon,
unless you want them to go.
Do
not play this after a hard day at work unless things are getting
on top of you and you want to kill your boss.
And
do not sing your kids to sleep with this album, unless they've
been little gits all day (and guess what kiddies, it's payback
time!).
Of
course, if you hate your parents, your boss, AND your children,
then this could well be the album you've been looking for. On
a more serious note, it's definitely one to get if you want to
hear one of the more interesting releases of the year. [Indoor
Miner]
Tasty:
As far as I can surmise from the sleeve notes, as there’s
no press release and heaven forbid I actually find anything out
for myself, this is a collection of material that has previously
been put out by Fflint Central in CDR format, and Birdman have
released a selection of the back catalogue as an introduction
to the Fflint label. My apologies to those concerned if I’ve
badly misread the situation. All of the material on this compilation
would be classed under the broad umbrella term of ‘electronica’,
most of the tracks being dark ambient music bordering on droning
noise. But not noise in a harsh sense, more restrained than the
likes of Merzbow and Masonna, noise in the sense of ambient subdued
menace.
By and large the tracks on here are of a very high quality. The
Gideon Leeches track ‘Burra Folly’ is reminiscent
of the fuzzy, dreamlike ambience of Bowery Electric or Fennesz,
but with darker undertones. Cavendish Sanguine’s ‘Azeotrope’
is an unsettling mixture of bells, chimes and electronic drone
that begins relatively tamely and develops into a cacophony. Oleum’s
excellent track ‘Spilth’ begins with harsh digital
noise and morphs into a lovely blissed out textured drone.
A
few of the tracks on this sampler are rather less impressive.
The Pendro tracks are on the whole poor; the digital whistling
on ‘Small Automatic Thorax’ comes across as dated.
Their track ‘Flip’ is akin to the console electronics
that Hella used in parts of ‘Hold Your Horse Is’,
but is simply grating. However other than these exceptions the
material on this sampler is very good, unsettling but strangely
soothing at the same time. The band Berkowitz, Lake and Dahmer
deserve an especial mention, because of the quality of their music,
but more importantly because they have a track called ‘Cirrhosis
of the Cormorant’. [Michael Person]
Losing
Today: Ci sono avanguardie di serie A e avanguardie di serie
B, e a volte l’appartenenza all’una o all’altra
categoria è solo questione di fortuna. I musicisti che
fanno riferimento alla Fflint Central appartengono senza dubbio
alla seconda schiera: l’etichetta stampa solo su CDR, e
alzi la mano chi li ha sentiti nominare prima di questo sampler.
Il trio Berkowitz, Lake & Dahmer avrà forse delle assonanze
con il più temuto degli anatemi prog, ma fortunatamente
si destreggia fra un noise irredento sulla falsariga dei Wolf
Eyes e tracce più esplorative che richiamano la LAFMS.
Pendro, invece, svaria tra campionamenti di cornamuse e disturbanti
incubi fai da te a base di synth e oscillatori. Cousin Silas mischia
con successo sonorità techno e un’ambient pastorale
degna di Basinski, che ritroviamo anche nei Gideon Leeches; infine,
i Cavendish Sanguine sono chiaramente disturbati da troppi ascolti
di industrial e folk apocalittico. Chi cerca una sperimentazione
che vada al di là delle mode avrà sicuramente pane
per i suoi denti. [FABIO CAGNETTI]
WFMU:
This CD release compiles five years of assorted sounds on the
UK CDR label Fflint, which has during that time become a well-beloved
staple in WFMU's new bin and airwaves. My friend Andee stayed
with these gents in the UK back in the late 90's, raved about
their releases and the connection was made. It's sure been a pleasant
connection as well, the label even combed WFMU's search engine
and noted every song played by various FMU DJs and compiled them
into a love letter disc for a marathon prize called "To Effem
You" a few years back. But besides the mutual backrubbing
going on here (heh), the music is fantastic and sadly overlooked
by much of the experimental-music-supporting media. It's not too
hard to understand why; the 21st century glut of CDRs took hold
over our mailboxes, and the stack of esoteric-looking packages
with oblique titles continues to pour in, and to be honest, it's
a chore separating the meddle from the muddle. What's most intriguing
about these Fflint recordings though is that they don't sound
like anything else. There's remnants of weird 80's DIY tape loop
experimentation, Autechre-inspired electronica, dark ambient soundscapes,
but totally unlike the multitudes who are also doing it. It comes
from a very personal place, from Berkowitz Lake & Dahmer's
electronic frog-croaks amidst metallic lillypads to Pendro's weird,
Terry Riley-esque cyber-bagpipe workouts to Oleum's haunted ballroom
sounds, I sense this whole gang is an introspective lot with more
design on getting inside hidden recesses of your cortex than being
on the cover of some hip IDM magazine and getting in at the Sonar
Festival. And wasn't it supposed to be that way all along? [Brian
Turner]
Mimaroglu
Music Sales:
in chester/manchester a few weeks back, i kept hearing vague whisperings
about the fflint central cd-r label... a web search yielded info
about this comp, released in the u.s. on the birdman label...
so i bit. and i’m glad i did... nothing like the guileless
puerile skree i often receive in droves on cd-r (batches still
arriving daily despite the folding of my record label almost 4
years ago) this stuff has a certain outsider-zombie vibe that
feels real, rather than calculated. lo-bit electronic drones &
general-purpose audio tomfoolery afoot. worthy of your time and
that of those within earshot... [Keith Fullerton-Whitman aka Hrvatski]
Invisible
Limb: The venture of two Welsh men with a fondness for cemeteries
and Ouija boards, Fflint Central is a part-time record label for
a few artists with similar experimental and artistic visions.
Malpractice, a compilation released by Birdman, showcases selections
from each of the artists on the label. Selections range from the
seemingly Celtic influenced “Flip” by Pendro, to the
static noise and rhythmic beats in “Halzaphron” by
Cavendish Sanguine, to the pulsating and experimental ambient
fuzz of “Cirrhosis of the Cormorant” by Berkowitz,
Lake & Dahmer. Avant-garde, eerie, and experimental–none
of it mainstream or boring–this compilation was made to
keep listeners on their toes. Viewed by the artists as “pure
sound outside of music” and “free of all the constraints
that keeps ‘popular music’ so boring and pointless”,
Malpractice is sure to transport you to a new musical realm. [Cariwyl
Hebert ]
WFMU
(Liz Berg): Something that scared Robert Katz of 'JM in the
AM': Berkowitz Lake & Dahmer with a song called 'Locate
& Cement'. And this is off of a new compilation of strange
sounds on the Birdman label....it's choc full of strangeness that
you might enjoy - or you might scare, obviously - as I did.
Aquarius
Records: We've
long been champions of the mighty mysterious Fflint Central label
and their beautifully bizarre droning electronic weirdness. And
we've raved about every single one of their cd-r releases. So
we were pretty excited when the kind folks at Birdman decided
to collect the best bits from all those releases and compile them
on a real cd to create the ultimate Fflint primer. Essential for
those of you who have yet to discover the amazing sonic world
that is Fflint Central; absolutely necessary for those of you
who have worn your old Fflint cd-r's down to spinning plastic
nubs; and don't think you Fflint obsessives are getting off easy,
there are several exclusive tracks never before released that
you of course need! We could go on and on and gush endlessly,
but since our very own Andee wrote the liner notes, we might as
well just let you read what he had to say:
What the fuck is Fflint anyway? A place? A label? A bunch of cheeky
bastards who have, in the matter of a few short years, rendered
all other UK electronica obsolete? Umm, a place?
In the world of popular music, world-changing things get old fast.
With the advent of punk rock, it was a thrill realising that anyone
could start a band, but that wore off -real- quick, once everybody
did. And then, when the laptop replaced the guitar as the "instrument"
anyone could buy and thus have their own" band", it
wasn't long before we found ourselves at shows, watching nerds
check their emails on stage while we sipped overpriced drinks
and fantasized about slipping into the bar to play some Galaga.
And then came the cd-r. Christ, you thought the tape was bad.
At least with tapes you always had something laying around to
dub the new Van Halen or Motley Crue record on. But cd-r's, c'mon.
Fuck. Not only can you not tape over them, but even my mom has
a limited cd-r release. (And it's not half bad!)
So when you discover some mysterious group, who are quietly releasing
cd-r's filled with sounds that are beautiful and perplexing and
dreamy and annoying and dark and mesmerising and fucked beyond
all possible comprehension, you cling to them like you were a
mama bear and these cd-r's were your newborn cubs. But at the
same time you are constantly wondering why -- knowing that these
sounds exist and are somewhat readily available -- anyone would
knowingly choose to listen to the rest of the shit out there.
Well that's all about to change.
And I guess that brings us back to the big question. What the
hell is Fflint anyway? Obviously it's music, after all you're
holding their cd in your grubby little paws as we speak. But is
it electronica? Noise? Dark ambience? Twentieth century? Twenty
First Century? Who the hell knows? And honestly, who gives a shit.
This is sound, pure and not so simple. An endless series of unlikely
musical events. Some soothing and serene, some droning and delirious,
and some so harsh it hurts to even listen. But all of it, every
single bit, is unlike anything you've ever heard. Or ever will
hear again. It's not just music, but the sounds of music. And
the music of sound, entering your ears from the inside, filling
your wide open skull with malfunctioning maelstroms of stuttering,
fuzzed out synth and hiccupping bursts of thundering glitchery
colliding with sputtering clicks and oscillating low end rumbles,
draped over chest rattling modulated pulses. Ultra harsh noise
smeared over a strange man humming into a broken telephone, while
an orchestra of detuned guitars tries desperately to compete in
the background. Thousands of tiny hands unwrapping cellophane
candies in a hyperbolic chamber, while little girls in tap shoes
run laps around your eardrums. Epileptic bagpipes and faraway
seal calls rub up against scratching and scraping woodblocks,
timestretched into sinister growls or raw and ultra distorted
high end melodies, while player pianos are reverbed to death until
they become an ominous hum, like a swarm of mechanical wasps pinned
down by loping, stumbling Autechre-ish loops and rhythmic workouts:
all stuttering thumps and slow motion handclaps, like Timbaland
being held down in your bathtub struggling for air. Mysterious
and sing-songy Krautrock, jangly and noisy, rambling and shambolic,
giving way to shimmery skree, melodies shifting and eventually
splitting apart and forming new more abstract melodies, while
chirping birds and guttural Orc-ish vocalisations convulse atop
a bed of keening chimes and high end swells. Abstract IDM gets
deconstructed into shards of jagged dance refuse, beats, shuffling
and skittering beneath shifting chords and slabs of minor key
sound. Rich sheets of dense sound, layers of sweet ambience, and
the metallic hum of excited strings, eventually becoming clipped
and static, a hypnotic looped rhythm over accordions, crowd sounds
and more bird calls. Grinding scraping pulsing drones unfurl like
a small village being over run by snakes made out of bowed cymbals
and broken samplers. A dense, crushing melodic downpour, like
laying prone in a pool of Rephlex 12"s while hundreds of
'electronica artists' piss on you from above. Hissing ambience
created by a choir of tracheotomy patients with malfunctioning
hearing aids spewing intercepted shortwave transmissions, interrupted
by occasional gunfire; only the bullets are Masonna cassettes
and Merzbow cd-r's. A skittery but smooth drone-dirge, like someone
drugged Boards of Canada and then pushed them down the stairs,
while outside the Fflint guys try desperately to start the getaway
car.
Yes, but is it music? Can I dance to it? Will it make the opposite
sex swoon and want to sleep with me? No, probably not. Actually,
most definitely not. This is not like the music you're used to.
This is not music you'll hear on the radio or download from iTunes
or hear on a car commercial. This is not music to dance to, or
fuck to, or headbang to. Or maybe it is. At least for some of
us. But that's precisely what makes Fflint and their divine din
so special. And so goddamn important. This is pure sound, sound
outside of music. But music the way we wish all music could be:
Pure and freed from all the constraints that keeps "popular
music" so boring and pointless and well, popular.
This is unpopular music. We are unpopular people.
And we couldn't be happier.
MilleFeuille.fr:
Si un album offre souvent la possibilité d’entrevoir
le petit monde d’un artiste ou d’un groupe, la compilation
Malpractice – Flint Central Primer à toutes les allures
d’un voyage intergalactique à travers ce fameux label,
Fflint Central. Fondé en 1998, il est le théâtre
des expériences sonores de ses fondateurs, Tim Jones et
Barry Williams, tous les deux agissant respectivement sous les
pseudos de Pendro et de Cavendish Sanguine / Oleum mais aussi
en duo sous le nom incroyable de Berkowitz Lake & Dahmer.
Accueillant également à son bord les projets solos
de The Gideon Leeches (Steve Nuttall dans le civil) et de Cousin
Silas, le vaisseau Fflint Central est donc une famille plutôt
réduite mais où l’on suppose les liens aussi
difficiles à découvrir qu’impossibles à
rompre. Le texte d’accueil du site du label va d’ailleurs
dans ce sens : « Welcome, By accident or intention, you
have found the home of Fflint Central. (…).It's a great
compliment to know that there are listeners who get equal enjoyment
from FfC releases. Our artist roster is small but focused : please
don't ask us to release, promote, distribute or sell your music!
We simply don't have the time or resources. Search, Experiment,
Produce - and Enjoy!». Si l’accueil se fait donc à
bras ouverts, l’audacieux visiteur est d’emblée
prévenu que personne ne sera là pour lui tenir la
main et qu’aucune explication ne sera fournie sur le pourquoi
du comment. Bref, autant se livrer sans résistance pour
mieux se faire surprendre.
Pour
cela Malpractice atteint parfaitement son but. En faisant un tour
d’horizon complet des artistes de chez Fflint Central, l’envie
d’aller plus loin est évidente après l’écoute
de la compilation. Entre les ambiances bruitistes et les mélodies
tordues de Berkowitz Lake & Dahmer, le groove inquiétant
de Cousin Silas, les expérimentations hors pairs de Cavendish
Sanguine (ce nom ! ce nom, bon sang !!) , les loops envoûtantes
de Pendro, les drones d’Oleum et la mélancolie mystique
de The Giddeon Leeches, on n'a plus du tout envie de quitter ce
monde où la folie ambiante fait danser les morts et les
créatures bizarres, et où l'on se sent foutrement
bien parmi ces êtres aussi cinglés que soi.
A
l'instar d’Alice qui nous tanne à suivre son chemin
de briques jaunes, il n’y a finalement pas d’autre
chose à faire qu’à découvrir l’univers
fantastique de Fflint Central , Malpractice – A Fflint Central
Primer constituant un point de départ idéal pour
cela. Pour ma part l'addiction est complète et l'intégrale
Fflintien est désormais entre mes mains. Pas la peine d'espérer
y échapper : tous les albums de chez Fflint Central sont
des musts ! [Emmanuel B.]
Benjamin
Tinker:
You know that feeling when you look at all of the CDs, tapes and
records piled in yer abode, the piles that take up more then a
healthy amount of space in your hovel, you look at it, sweatily
thumbing through the ELO, 13th Floors, Schuberts, Shepps, field
recordings and exoctica... shouting out loud... "i have no
music!" it's time for a new dose. But then looking at your
handful of pocket change your budget only allows you one this
week... what's it going to be, not a sure fire winner, thats child's
play, why not stick yer neck out, gamble a bit, after all you
want something new, exciting, even if you hate it at least it
will strike an emotional chord, and you can trade it in later.
Well that's what happened when I popped into AQ to get the Fflint
Comp, Malpractice... Imagine the most out experimental electronic/tape
based music that we all love from the 50's, 60's, 70's, the kind
that makes you think "Wow, I can never do that, it's been
done, and with equipment that I'll never attain, and with patience
and understanding of composition that I can never retain."
Well this is an encouraging collection, in light of all of that,
born out of an instant (perhaps disposable, but in a positive
sense) free form improv way, yet retaining the textures, disparate
qualities, and sharp dynamics of that old school style of experimental
music. An extremely liberating CD, and worth the gamble in a desperate
time of a needed fix.
|
