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Man,
what an unlistenable piece of crap! Oh, not really. This
one-man noisefest does all it can to cram every annoying
beat and blast ever created and for a while it seems
like that’s what is all about.
For
starters, you just gotta work your way down to know what it is
about with Big Deformed Head. Check out the album title. By
then, you should know if this is your cup of tea. If so, I gotta
tell you, this album is fucked up. Way fucked up. But don’t
expect any frontal nudity or gruesome graphic real life detail.
There is a caricaturesque quality to this and one that is
verified by every excess exposed in these tunes.
These songs
are so overloaded and layered with noise that any in your face
lowbrow idea doesn’t struck violently because it is embellished
by what sounds like an old school Atari console stuck on error.
And when not, you can hear these otherworldly voices and about
three dozen more beeps and sounds and environmental debris just
shooting everywhere. This is noise pollution my friends. Intense
and absurd. A little bit funny, and very very silly. Especially
the first handful of songs where Big Deformed Head just drop an
aural attack worthy of getting the jail card.
Big Deformed
Head is the creation of Jose Gabriel Angeles. An intense dude
who is not afraid of putting the joke on himself. There are
supposed to be guitars in this recording, and I hear a bit here
and there. But this is a mostly electronic recording. Like
Angeles states in the insert, he ‘doesn’t play guitar, he
just rapes the strings on it as if his fingers were his cock’.
Certainly, Mr. Les Paul never envisioned this happening to
his creation.
But wait.
The second half of Experimentation With Masturbation Gone
Wrong! sounds actually serious. Well, not serious, but not
obsessed with silence obliteration and grindcore. Instead there
is a very conscious decision to turn to experimental electronic
music. This is not my forte, but some of these tunes are
downright enjoyable. “About Time Asshole” may have the same type
of title Angeles seems obsessed with (my favorite is “Most
Triumphant Motherfucker…and I Use the Term Triumphant Loosely
Here”) but the music itself is fluent; an electronic beat moving
at an organic pace, layers of organs pushing waves, hidden
voices, etc, etc, etc. Sounds almost like metal stripped off the
metalheads and the live instrumentation and turned into
electronics.
The second
half of the album isn’t free of the excesses exposed at the
beginning of the record. But at least those excesses are more
paused and are alternated with order, thumps and melodies. Here,
Angeles exposes some judgment and lots of potential to move
beyond his self imposed campy limitations.
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