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LP
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PLANAM 042LP
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Soibiast Anti-Culler was recorded in 1995 by the winterless north of New Zealand's Witcyst. Another monolithic skid mark serving of crackers plucked from the man's vast lifetime archive of sound making and beard. Witcyst makes his music with oceans of constant daily mutation. Machines get used upside down and back to front and inside out. Layers of string, tin foil and expired medicine are saved up to dazzle the eye. Parcels in the post come and go full of nostril hair and pamphlets and wool. What would that sound like through a funnel and a heavy metal pedal? Is the room shrinking? One knock for yes. Two for no. This audio is severely distressed and swollen. It is particularly buried and murky and howling here. Are they voices or organs? Meat or musical instruments? Is that a drum solo or decades of tape degradation? Are the hums musical or malfunctioning? It starts to sound like it was recorded inside your brain and has always been there. Who knows if it means any harm? And then it starts to sound like a basket full of wise puppies. Soibiast Anti-Culler is one of the most relevant works among at least a thousand albums Witcyst has originally released on cassettes and CDR's on his own Extemporaneous and Lifespace labels since the early 1990s. Edition of 300 copies in a silk-screened sleeve.
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LP
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PLANAM 035LP
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Since the early 1990s, Michael Veet aka Witcyst has been the stunning secret diamond of the New Zealand noise underground. A short-circuiting monolith on top of the rubbish heap of NZ art and sound. This LP contains two pieces originally issued on cassettes in 1995. "Screuma" sounds like a guitar being fed through a washing machine -- a giant guitar made from old medicine bottles and beard hair. The washing machine is on full spin and it has pinecones in it. Witcyst mumbles a running commentary. It goes on and on. All outputs are fed back into the inputs. "Chilli Song" is a Witcyst rock song stretched into a spitting blur of strumming and singing. Streaks of hiss and saturation swamp and dissolve the riff. Someone is frying old meat and Witcyst has a lot to say about it. It goes on and on. All outputs are fed back into the inputs. Witcyst's instructions for completing the sleeve artwork: "If the vinyl comes with unprinted blank card covers rub them a bit on rough concrete, cut out the center holes like a 12" sleeve, but not perfect circle -- like rough chop chop. Hack or lay a cover on wood, slab with a big metal pipe end, slam down off center like cutting with a cookie cutter, and tear the centers out. That would be goodly!" Witcyst lives and works in a concrete-floor shed in Whangarei, in the far north of New Zealand. His releases on his own labels Extemporization and LifeSpace run into the thousands. Each item is hand-made from insect casings, old X-rays, beer cans, and elbow grease. Exquisite drawings, obsessive collage, unreadable calligraphy, and photocopying onto tinfoil. His music is always a surprise and wrestles every potential sound out of endless mutations of endless new ideas. Every variation is layered, wrung out, and exploded. It is the freest of all the free noises. A complete drooling feast for the eyes and ears. Witcyst makes everyone else seem like a baby with a coloring book and one crayon. Edition of 300 copies in DIY sleeve.
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