D I R E transgressing the hermeneutics of contemporary aural architecture
impenetrable jukebox carl nebulous
Each month we play a series of hopelessly obscure and barely listenable records to a self-important fringe musician of microdot significance. The artist has no prior knowledge of what they will hear, and they have to attempt to identify the music in order to justify their hallowed reputation in a pompous and deeply solipsistic musical sub-community.
tested by jasper cotterell
Emerging from the neo-post-bop scene in Scranton, Missourri, Carl Nebulous joined Pig Eyed Shitbag and the Slayers in 1978, adding heavy bass reinforcement to their already pioneering reggae-opera infused aural diaramas. Nebulous moved on as the scene suffered from an increasingly self-referential pusillanimity, and formed Nebula with Gary Garrison, a two-man Drive Time outfit with an imaginary third member, Invisible Keith, who contributed a playful element of silence to their recordings. The duo moved to Hamburg in 1984, and the West German city exerted a strong pull on the duo’s collective weltanschauung, but only two tracks of microtonal feedback were cut to vinyl before Garrison moved on. Nebulous joined forces with Tandy Tandem, a triangle-shaped Swedish chanteuse, and released a string of genre-defying roots dub Viking Folk soundclash 10”s. In the 90’s Tandem left to build a zoo in space, and Nebulous harnessed the new possibilities offered by the internet to record subharmonic cloth-jazz tapestries with left-field luminaries Brandon Hill, and Bronson McVitie of Prince Mince fame.


Bath Tub Atlantis – Prince Pha Pha (Albion Records) 1979

CN: Oh wow. This is… I should know this. I own this record. I’ve never heard it played at this volume before.
DIRE: It’s quiet.
CN: Yeah. My turntable is much louder than this. What stylus is it?
DIRE: It’s a Bang and Olufsen SP-14.
CN: Of fuck, of course it is. Yeah, I know this record. I’ve never heard it before. I’ve no idea.
DIRE: It’s Prince Pha Pha.
CN: Of fuck! Of course it is. Is it Red Sea Pharoahs?
DIRE: Not quite.
CN: Black Sea Riddim?
DIRE: You’re getting warmer.
CN: [shakes head]
DIRE: It’s Bathtub Atlantis. That’s Chip Pazz on drums.
CN: Oh man! He’ll kill me when he finds out I got this wrong. 1979? Albion?
DIRE: Correct. There is a rumour that you played bass on this record.
CN: Pretty sure that’s not true.
DIRE: It is.
CN: Is it?
DIRE: Yes.


Gonna Get Me Some In 7/8 – Rotting Horse (Monumental Diminutive Records) 1978

CN: Is it Merzbow? Sounds like Merzbow. It has that Bartok-esque carnality; like that chainsaws-in-a-burning-brothel thing he was toying with in the ‘80s.
DIRE: Not quite.
CN: Hmm. Is it Floella Benjamin from BBC’s Playschool?
DIRE: You’re close.
CN: Ah! It’s Rotting Horse.
DIRE: Good work.
CN: The project John Craven and Maggie Philbin worked on together.
DIRE: No, that was the Flashpoints with Keith Chegwin. Rotting Horse was Chegwin solo, drinking lighter fluid in a darkened room.
CN: Yeah, I remember this record. I’ll have to dig it out. I got it on laserdisc in Tokyo before it was recorded, but I never listened to it.


Brain Pirates of the Open Road – Dresden Pilots: The Equestrian Dream (Brian Damaged Goods) 2000

CN: This sounds like another one of those instrumental groups with strong rock tendencies and an armchair association with classical music.
DIRE: Definitely that Canadian Post-Rock sound.
CN: It sounds dense and compact in a loose, freeform way. Fast yet slow. Like a large man descending a flight of stairs wrapped in parma ham and chicken wire. I like it. Hmm. No… can’t place it.
DIRE: It’s Dresden Pilots.
CN: Oh. This is lame. I’ve really had enough of that whole scene.
DIRE: You started it.
CN: Did I?
DIRE: Yep.
CN: Hmm.


Be Sensible – Rod, Jane and Freddy Krueger (Rainbow Records/BBC Worldwide) 1981

CN: This sounds like Arabian metal. That Sharia-core scene. Is it Ktub? No- scratch that, it’s Rod, Jane and Freddy Krueger.
DIRE: Well spotted.
CN: It’s…no. Can’t place the track.
DIRE: It’s Be Sensible, from the 1981 series of Rainbow. It’s the episode where Zippy ribs George mercilessly for wanting to be a beautician when he grows up, causing Geoffrey to intervene and lecture Zippy on his latent homophobia.
CN: I know it’s completely ridiculous, but I don’t even own this record. It’s like I made a conscious decision to stop listening to stuff like this because I thought I was kind of cornering myself creatively. And anyway, their sound is so iconoclastic, you can’t take anything from it without it being obvious. Being influenced by the whole Rainbow scene is inevitably plagiaristic because they had such a singular aesthetic.


Jethpa – Krebka (KuK) 1964

CN: Is this RBJ? This is RBJ. Man, I’m gonna email him now! I haven’t even heard this yet! This must be new stuff. He has such a muscular take on formalism. He manages to be simultaneously pugilistic and fragile. In fact- I was with him when he wrote the main signature of this. No… wait- this is me on bass! This is Sasquatch Pie (Regent). Jesus, I can’t believe I failed to recognise a track we recorded together. It’s funny, we often joke about how we can’t identify a track until the bass line comes.
DIRE: It’s not RBJ.
CN: It’s not?
DIRE: No, It’s Jethpa by Krebka. You aren’t on this record.
CN: Oh. Woah. I guess… that bass line is a little to close to mine for comfort. Maybe he’s been listening to us.
DIRE: This was recorded before you were born.
CN: Mm. It’s okay I guess. Not really my kind of thing.

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DIRE MAGAZINE STAFF PICK OF THE MONTH

“Blank Verse” – Sound/Map/Vision (Carbon Data)

The new album from Dan Coma’s S/M/V project exhibits a new-found irreverence and subversive whimsy. “People didn’t really get the jokes on my previous records, so I’ve pushed the humour to the forefront this time” he explains. Opener “[*Poq.]” exhibits an avuncular assymetry, hopping blithely between 16/4 and a gently knowing 17/300 signature. This immediately presents the listener with a conundrum: a playful juxtaposition or a brave (if foolhardy) musical portmanteau? Further on, Coma pulls off more sonic subterfuge, shoe-horning Foie-Gras Jazz rudiments into a regressive limbic-toto. The coruscating interregnum “Cratpdukn (l)” is perhaps too obvious a side-swipe at the moribund Bench Core scene, but when Coma transcends the exegetical limitations of the song-as-satire, his quarry resides squarely in the crosshairs. “Pumped Jennison” is tipped at a sound 14 to 1, with “Honey Girdles” still the firm favourite at 3 to 1. A robust, if occasionally profligate contribution.
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