necktar 2017

And it was only a day or two ago when we were wondering to ourselves – what the hell – or more is the point – where the hell did the Truth about Frank get to. In truth such wandering thoughts were provoked rather loosely by a television screening of the much maligned Hitchcock classic ‘the trouble with Harry’. But then as coincidences so do occur we happened across this slice of strangeness, if only we could pre-empt winning lottery numbers, taken from another of those hulking compilations posted up on the site – I think this one is 2gb in size, this is track 73 entitled ‘in articulo mortis by the truth about frank. Not quite your happy clappy family gathering pop music unless of course your chosen family happens to made up of mechanoids with gloomy depression issues and a fondness for morbidly gouged post apocalyptic dystopian death disco industrialonics all dinked in Dadaist binary pulsars – quite eerie and unsettling in an appliances are taking over mankind type way. Anyhow the collection entitled ‘Necktar 2017 volume VII’ – features 128 tracks drawn from across the globe harvesting offering from everything from dream pop to noise abstractia – a quick rummage through the list and we eye old friends Ummagma with a previously unheard nugget called ‘balkanofellini’ which finds them straying from their usual dream dazed orbital platform and swimming into the tripping oceanic worlds of down tempo noir dub which to these ears had us imagining a three headed hallucinogenic sonic hydra collected of Discordia, Massive Attack and Le Bleu personnel. Now clearly time being of the essence we’ve impishly opted to mention the sets parting shot which you probably won’t be to surprised to note is a 17 and a half minute sore thumb from Twin Realities Dreamers by the name ‘watching the surface from beyond oblivion’ which for the best part of its sonic gestation admittedly does sound like a melodic mausoleum spirited away in a glooming detachment pin pricked by progressive industrial grooves by the communicative chatter of sparring circuit boards, but stick with it for slowly emerging out of the psychotropic stoner droning fog at around the 10 minute mark a curious thing appears in the shape of a head-shrooming classical mystical folk arabesque of the type that might make even Anla Curtis coo with enviable admiration.

This entry was posted in groovy bastards..., Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s