e/i magazine reviwed about overdose kunst
OVERDOSE KUNST Non-Form Material Machine (Postmoderncore) • Weirdorama, to say the least, of this half-hour EP from mysterious Japanese sources. Like The Blair Witch Project set to music, Non-Form Material Machine is as ectoplasmic as its title. Apparently this bunch (individual?) revere ongaku as fervently as the haunted film stock hastily affixed to the dusty crevasses of this work. “Medium’s Message” does a three-sixty away from the caterwauling muted noisefeasts of the opening track, a kind of twisted blues to accompany a tokyo chainsaw massacre. “Deemployed” is a ten minute bafflement of software-stressed existential dread, powered-down powerplant dub that’s been bitch-glitched across a shortwave dial, sounds the wails of seagulls skeet-shot out of a grey sky; then auralus interruptus occurs, in the ghost of John Fahey tickling away the twilight. “464” might be the number of Overdose Kunst’ bested beast―perhaps a Gorgon? Treading too close to an industrialized ambient Yes, its Steve Howe guitars finally devolve in the closing three minutes into some ghastly assemblage of banshee yells climbing like rising thermals upwards to infinity, finally lost in a morass of electronic distortion and heavy metal guitar scree: prog’s exquisite corpse resurrected via PanSonic? The label’s called Postmoderncore; tongue stumbles over cheek, yet the moniker befits the music to a tee. Beats me what it means, though. (DB) • http://usyugana.hp.infoseek.co.jp/ovk.shtml
http://overdosekunst.blog85.fc2.com/
OVERDOSE KUNST Non-Form Material Machine (Postmoderncore) • Weirdorama, to say the least, of this half-hour EP from mysterious Japanese sources. Like The Blair Witch Project set to music, Non-Form Material Machine is as ectoplasmic as its title. Apparently this bunch (individual?) revere ongaku as fervently as the haunted film stock hastily affixed to the dusty crevasses of this work. “Medium’s Message” does a three-sixty away from the caterwauling muted noisefeasts of the opening track, a kind of twisted blues to accompany a tokyo chainsaw massacre. “Deemployed” is a ten minute bafflement of software-stressed existential dread, powered-down powerplant dub that’s been bitch-glitched across a shortwave dial, sounds the wails of seagulls skeet-shot out of a grey sky; then auralus interruptus occurs, in the ghost of John Fahey tickling away the twilight. “464” might be the number of Overdose Kunst’ bested beast―perhaps a Gorgon? Treading too close to an industrialized ambient Yes, its Steve Howe guitars finally devolve in the closing three minutes into some ghastly assemblage of banshee yells climbing like rising thermals upwards to infinity, finally lost in a morass of electronic distortion and heavy metal guitar scree: prog’s exquisite corpse resurrected via PanSonic? The label’s called Postmoderncore; tongue stumbles over cheek, yet the moniker befits the music to a tee. Beats me what it means, though. (DB) • http://usyugana.hp.infoseek.co.jp/ovk.shtml
http://overdosekunst.blog85.fc2.com/