New Releases in the Prison Tatt Web store, May 2011

Those of you who follow our Facebook page, or the label in general, may know already about these releases, but since every release at Prison Tatt is a work of pride and not-quite joy, schadenfreude perhaps, we find no shame in praising them aggressively in all available arenas.

Newest to uh, drop, is the Pacificador one-sider by Brazilians (now based in the UK) Sesso Violento. I was fortunate to establish a relationship with this band shortly after their first demo, a digital-only release that broke new ground in the realm of crust-punk black metal, with great songwriting and the band's own curious element of sci-fi guitar noise and other shadowy effects. The 20-min. side works as a suite of sorts, a blistering ride through treacherous, modern-urban horror; the striking image of a Brasilian police tank on the sleeve pretty much saying it all. 100 copies pressed; available for $16 ppd within the U.S. You can hear two full tracks, and view pricing for other regions at the main page of our site.

Also intense, violent and striking, though completely on another plane from Sesso V., is the new release by KILT, Kitchen Sorcery, marking the first silver-CD digipak release for the improvisational duo/sometimes trio. The disc features two cleanly recorded, crisply in-your-face mastered studio sessions, as well as a live set from Texas 2007. Though electronics and processing gear are amply employed, part of what's striking about KILT, and these recordings in particular, is that everything they do feels decidedly organic, and it's not without intent, as the name KILT is meant to conjure up thoughts of pipes, reeds and green plains. Hear a healthy track excerpt, and purchase ($10 ppd U.S.) at the PT site.

And selling fast (for a release of 100) is PT 002, a long time in the planning and making, Xesse, the one-sided LP by T.O.M.B. Similar to the Sesso Violento release in that it works as a suite of shorter, connected pieces, Xesse stands as this mystery band's creepiest work to date—not metal, not really noise in the expected sense either, but a study in disturbing frequencies and performed passages, much of the source material recorded under the cover of night at "damned" locations. Xesse is monumental and truly horrific, and one will not be able to listen passively. A new type of music unto itself. $17 ppd within the U.S.; song excerpts and pricing for other regions at our site.

Also still available are two very "large" releases (both on digipak CD, with hi-gloss UV-coated artwork), one by Brooklyn's OPPONENTS, Together We Will End The Future, the answer to the question, "where are contemporary electronics going?"—a mighty release from one of the most-prolific and constantly surprising hard electronics outfits working today, infused with horror power and 80s styles tastefully mined. More info, song extracts, and online shopping at our site. And last but by no means least, White Fire Laudanum, the ONLY terrestrial release by Dhampyr, the despair-munching, human-suffrage pumping, depressive black metal artists from Rhode Island. Two full songs can be previewed here. You may also download Dhampyr's latest work, Blestwater Elegies, absolutely free at this link.

As I contemplate the pros and cons of a label bandcamp page, though most likely it will happen, Prison Tatt goes into production this week, on Husere Grav's eagerly anticipated Myths o/s LP, and the o/s vinyl reissue of Ives' Abandon cassette.

come deadly

Hide your scars, Barbara, under that swooping bang—I will love you still. The rot you endeavor to conceal only seasons your magnetic beauty. Barbara Steele is the everywoman of gothic horror film—alluring, mysterious, sexy, vengeful, cloying, scheming, and most importantly, looks great even beyond death—like every woman I have or ever will love.

Paul Haney, as Rust Worship, turned in the performance of performances—a rolling, sonic masterpiece, that reveals new layers and subtleties with each listen. He's worked hard, gigged often, and continues to do so even as I type this. That mighty Rust Worship set, like several walks through several graveyards at twilight, will post to WFMU's Beware of The Blog and Free Music Archive in 1-2 weeks' time, as I listen and review, and craft the praise-filled, analytical text that will accompany. Serious thanks are due, both to Paul, and engineer Bob Bellerue, for making the magic happen. In the meantime, one can hear the Rust Worship set, incorporate in the three-hour horrorcast™, by clicking on the image of lovely-even-in-death Barbara above. For an overview of all the live music and special music programming I've presented on The Castle since 2009, you can visit my curator portal at the FMA, and trek backward through the abundance of posts there.

What else? Australian grindcore, for one. Tracks by The Kill and Doubled Over "made" the horrorcast, as they made my personal week this past; they're on to something there in Oz. My suggestion? Grab whatever you can find by these bands, The Kill having several releases out, and were bound for Maryland Deathfest when I saw them (today in the "main room" @ 4:10 p.m.), and Doubled Over a remarkable split 7" with Roskopp.

Noting personal favorites, the Decimus LP side which opened our show this week (Pat M., with any luck, will bring the project to Castle airwaves this summer), the Nondor Nevai LP continues to dazzle and mystify, the new Facialmess tape on Rainbow Bridge is a killer, the debut Lady Piss LP is massive (look for a summer Castle visit from them as well), and just about anything on House of Alchemy is worth yours or my time. Great shit all around; I love doing this show—can you tell?

Oh Barbara, Barbara, how ultimate the woman you are—I could sharpen my knives on your hips, and lose myself times over in your eyes. If not for you, would there even be a Castle? Sure, perhaps, but a palmist/ reader once told me that it would be the women in my life that would guide my path, and in my fantasy, you are one of them.

Rust Worship, thoughtful choices and brave stabs LIVE on My Castle of Quiet, TONIGHT!

Rust Worship has always been such a fascinating project name to me; as a word-a-tarian, I can do so much with it. "Rust Never Worships, Do One?" "The Sleep of Rust Begets Worship." I can't help but throw in that memorable Neil Young phrase somewhere, but mostly, what Rust Worship means to me is the glory of oxidation, the decay, of tape foremost, but also of vinyl, and well, everything. Oxygen gives life as it fosters decay. And what might that all sound like? Why, the music of Paul Haney, of course.

Paul Haney is one of My Castle of Quiet radio's recurring characters, like Leo McKern's Number Two on The Prisoner, or Joel Murray's drunken client rep on Mad Men. Having appeared first as a guest DJ, then again as part of the trio lineup of Towering Heroic Dudes (still one of my personal-favorite live Castle sessions, though I love them all.) these appearances still give only a glimpse of the wall of vibrating chaos that is Paul's solo project, Rust Worship. Using and abusing an array of sources, including cassettes, LPs, turntables, guitars and glass, Rust Worship is most often a polyrhythmic assault, where loops and delayed phrases collide and tumble over one another, sometimes clean and subtle, then rising to a distorted crescendo, like someone trying desperately to fight their way out of a bad dream. Cassettes on Obsolete Units and Cryptic Carousel tell only part of the Rust Worship tale, as part of the fun is the process, that of watching and hearing Paul make thoughtful choices and brave stabs in real time. I've had the pleasure of seeing Paul grow the project since 2009 (though he started a few years earlier, I believe), so Rust Worship's Castle visit is a long time in the making, and it's highly likely that Paul will pull a magnum opus (or two) out of his track bag, as so many live Castle guests have in the past.

Don't miss this one.
Simply smashing photo of Rust Worship by your host and author.

Barbara Steele opens the door a crack, looks left and then right, and yanks me inward by my lapels, "C'mon!" @ midnight.
RW @ 12:30 or so.
WFMU 91.1 FM (NY/NJ)
WMFU 90.1 FM (Hudson Valley)
wfmu.org live on the Web

This show is the Brown Hobo spider of WFMU's schedule. I love it. ... Goddammit I *wish* the world was ending tomorrow. But it fucking won't.

Self-obligatory playlist re-post title double header this week.

I'd been laying low after my self-pitying screed posted here a few nights ago (since taken down.) If you saw, just do me a favor and lie and say you didn't. I need to put on fingerless mittens, and secure them with duct tape, when I get deep into those moods, so that no typing is possible. Sarzan also wasn't here to stop me, or be my barometer of shutupingness. What's done is done; hopefully collateral social damage was minimal.

Nothing stopped me from serving the faithful (plus others) on this week's horrorcast™, nor from attending an absolutely life-affirming grind show last night in the neighboring hamlet of Montclair, NJ. In fact, that same tour hits Shea Stadium in Brooklyn tonight (20 Meadow Street), and if you want to be blown back by a powerful spirit with the essence of a sidewalk hammer, you'll mosey over there and catch the bill that includes Castle favorites The Communion, and visiting Australian new Castle favorites Doubled Over and The Kill. The Communion just get better and better, exploring their new material with cojones intact, while the Oz bands, being a rare treat headed for Maryland death fest, must not be missed—both bands easily embody that which is the power of truth, making weird, fucked-up phenomenal grindcore that easily and casually redefines the genre, and uh, makes you want to bore through a concrete wall head first.

Back to this week's show, notices on the playlist for perennial favorites Beherit, UK grind/noise monsters Cthulhu Youth, the now-rare Dais release by Whip and the Body, and post-Burzum frozen-north atmospherist Brocken Moon. 'Twas a show of shows, and the regulars and visitors were alive with pleasure on the playlist, much appreciated! To hear the full 3-hour archive of the weekly horrorcast, click on the ominous and grammatically imbalanced headstone up top.

So that be the answer to the question, "SERIOUSLY, WHAT IS THE FUCKING POINT?" - and it's a multifold answer, to make the banker across from SF Spike's office close his door in dismissive repulsion, to continue to plant the seeds that grow the obscure nation of fringe, "extreme" music lovers bit by bit, to be the Burgess Meredith with the now-broken glasses for all the other Burgess Merediths with now-broken glasses out there. Well put? Hope so, 'cause I'm keeping it brief this week, and the "no-typing" mittens are close at hand.

NEXT WEEK - improvisor, deconstructor, noise-collagist Rust Worship, performing absolutely LIVE for Castle listeners. Berger out!

I'm totally tweaking.

I love it when people comment about how high they are, be it naturally or chemically induced—it's the kind thing that many will groan and roll their eyes upward to, "oh, how, childish!"—but since My Castle of Quiet is all about the inner child, my inner child—and yours too, this type of exclamation is wholly appropriate. We are foolish, fallible, and finally human. And since there is so much expression of good feeling in the universe, and on WFMU (which is, like any good broadcast entity, and the bad ones too, a microcosm of our population) I was begotten, to provide a reliable home for contrast, and for those of us who feed on that contrast, those "bad vibes," this show actually makes quite a few, more than a few people, happy. It feels good to be aggressive, to have a safe place where one can, literally or figuratively, express their angst and frustrations; anger and wall-punching is allowed. We can't all smile, gently stroke our acoustic guitar and express our tenderness all the time, and in fact, some of us NEVER want to. My Castle of Quiet is your radio home away from home, nihilists, misanthropes, those lacking the proper attitude to function "correctly" in our twisted society. (Just don't fuck with ME, the gatekeeper and master, THAT will get you nowhere, as has been shown.) Sit down, cross your legs, fill a goblet, and enjoy as the brutality floweth free.

What a treat to have Jeff Conklin visit this week, to contribute some dynamite selections and steer me into more than one questionable conversation. Great sounds he brought, as Jeff is always onto more than a few things that have slipped past my radar, and though we've arrived at this music for somewhat different personal reasons, we both get our souls fed by it in much the same way. So, eternal thanks are due Jeff for his contributions to The Castle, and it's my deepest regret that the Port Authority's "rapid" transit made his (and his lovely companion's) journey home something much less than pleasant.

You can hear the entire 3-hour archive of the weekly horrorcast™, and view the playlist, by clicking on the damned soul above. (And if that's Brazilian 60s hell (ala Coffin Joe), well, it ain't so bad after all, at the very least, it's COLORFUL.) Another regular listener, Rory, commented, "I have a feeling that I'm going to keep coming back to this show on the archives for weeks." And yes, 'twas a doozie. Thank you Rory, Jeff, and all the other Castle faithful, for acknowledging that The Castle is in fact GOOD, THOUGH NOT NECESSARILY GOOD-NATURED. It doesn't have to be a happy, sappy, beer-swillin' pop tune, in order to enrich the human condition. No it does not.

Notices on and off the playlist for Drunks With Guns, Hoax, and Jackie Kennedy.
Feel you next week.

Why Is Jeff Conklin So Happy?

Those of you who have been following the My Castle of Quiet radio show since its inception in June 2009 know that I long for a good foil. Fencing sword? Yes. But also, the occasional good co-host. Someone to converse with, bounce ideas off of, scold me when I'm bad, laugh at my jokes and make a few of their own.

First there was JH, he who would now see me dead, he who spews hateful bile and threats every time I shoot him an email. Still, I keep the bastard's music up on my curator page on the FMA.

Our good friend Paul Haney dropped by once, and dazzled all with gems from his extensive collection of rare noise recordings.

Then, the charming C. Lavender, perhaps the most complimentary personality with whom I've shared the microphone; she's quite wisely up and fled the Garden State.

Now, I'm pleased to welcome Mr. Jeff Conklin of East Village Radio's Just Music, a true music lover with heart to spare. I'd say we've known each other a while, but I think the bond came at the Magma show last year. Proud prog dorks were we.

Tune in tonight @ midnight, as Jeff shares the mic with me, and some gems from his collection with Castle listeners. RAT OWN!

It's 8.14AM here, in Copenhagen, and your show is making my morning!

Some people wake up with The Castle, some drift off to dreamland with it, and a great many others don't listen at all. I would never want to do a show that was everyone's cup of tea. Where's the fun in that? Still, life on the eternal fringe does get disheartening.

My 98 year-old Grandmother passed away this week, Evelyn Berger, and my prevalent thought at her funeral was, "she accomplished so much, she touched so many, and then quietly moved on to a better place." Were that I could live such a fulfilling life. Evie spent 22 days in jail for something she believed in, back in the 70s, whereas I, her wretched spawn, just about manage to get off the couch once a week and do this radio show, for a few hundred very appreciative fans, one imagines. That's something, I guess. Doomed to a life of purgatorial obscurity—but dammit, I wanna make my big fuckin' mark as well.

Then, at Evie's funeral, I heard the Rabbi say that one of my Grandmother's biggest regrets was that she didn't start teaching until she was 50. Fifty! So there's still hope then, for me to be the ambassador of the dark for all. My humble goal—to unite all horror film- noise- and black metal-heads, a global occult-Kosmische community, gathering more members as it rolls, until all the good-time pop people are forced to respect us, accept our work as art and valid human expression. Fuck the haters—we will roll over them like Emperor Caligula's head-mowing machine.

Lots of citations on the playlist this week >>> the great and mysterious ensemble Cadaver In Drag, Brown Angel, Raspberry Bulbs (live appearance on The Castle in June or thereabouts), Hell (what a seriously great fucking record; Hell II coming soon on vinyl from Pesanta) and the eternally great Hex Breaker Quintet.

I give credit where credit is due, and thanks must go to Todd -Husere Grav- Watson for turning my attention towards Sole Survivor, basically the same tale as Carnival of Souls, but told in sci-fi supernatural 80s creepoid style. A still from same adorned our playlist this week, poor Kristy, post-zombification, and you can click on her now-bluish countenance to hear the full 3-hour archive of this week's horrorcast™, as well as view the playlist.

Next week, my very special guest and co-host will be Mr. Jeff Conklin of East Village Radio's Just Music show, likes him some noise and metal too, he does, even though he's a FREAKIN' HIPPIE. Luv ya, Jeff, see you all next week.