vinyl                                                                                                     catalog

Decapitated Hed - Subversive club Process - 12 inch vinyl - $9

“12 inches of spastic, throbbing teknoise and raunchy post-industrial funk generated by fried consumer electronics. Harsh grooves for misanthropic ex-ravers.”

A Spleencoffin release.

MAMA BAER - “The Island” -male bonding records-  lp -  $20

 

“The Island/ Exorcisme (..better says B as well)

Hosting the last Third Reich governement and opening the first xxx shop ever, the town of Flensburg needed to swallow a flesh-red peppermint for polyester's and peanuts' sake. Since the mid 2000s, the neo-fluxus totem in front of the Hjuler family lawn announces this kinda fertile fish fry. Mama Bär's sound art, paintings and womb elasticity succeeded to make the head cheese level of professional garglers like Runzelstirn and Gurgelstock, The New Blockaders, Thurston Moore, JaDa, Intrasitive Steltzer, Ultra Eczema, etc. etc. bop and drop. The left side of their marinated brain flexed 'til it snapped painfully – the proud wounds still scorching on the strong shoulders of der Kommissar. Uppers/downers galore. And you tought taking a peek at Britney's unfeathered snatch was already demanding. Retune to this future past artefact documenting the brown audiophile braai. At least Eva Péron did have crypto-fascist pubes offering a warm Gramscian blanket to fuel up the working class dreams and nightmares. Cut up the schizo-slit and heat up the coals cuz mommy's getting rather tipsy. Garbage bags leaking under a bleak moon near the German-Danish border still equal a rather-day time in the caudillo's mind frame. There's a rainbow high in the sky for wild trancers. Candy-coloured clowns march, just a coupla minutes left to smear the war paint of the progenic blank faces and let the teutonic brood make another cameo in yr rem. After all, parental luv can't prevent the liverspotted elder to get restless when their creolian-like gibberish called Petuh gets scabrously interrupted by Mama Dada's hearty troatball karaoke. I do remember my family covering my eyes when I saw the annoucement of a dog and pony show in Eurabia. Outro : “Mamma, der Mond glänzt in meinen Augen, und ich bevorzuge Schafe irgendwie”. No pentagram police officers resided on thát island (not to be confused w/the fancy pancy part of Artwerp) – nor do they here, on the archipel of redheaded lust. With regard to church drama, witch marks did make an excellent excuse to violate women. The authorian male might get post-reformated but didn't Linda Blair end up in a porn anyway ? Hail the freckled witch and may she lit yr creamy aeon mucus with a blowtorch.

This comp of extremely limited and long-out-of-print lo-fi skronk comes packaged in a pasted-on black sleeve dealing with Mama Bärs visions of the gay soccer shower theme that seems to infiltrate the male bonding rituals over and over. Hand-numbered anti-insert edition of 139 copies. “

1. --Male Bonding records catalogue