Time-stamp, 2o26. Reckon we try another roll of the dyes with this here formula. The following is a semi-regular compendium of sturgeonary news - including show dates, personal findings, interrupting cows, and all the random in-betweens that percolate interest - splinters, smudges, and things that go boing. Oh, and don't forget to click on the pics (hint hint).
Abril, brilloso, and brillo puddings.
Been on a big ol' move as of late, with ample dust in the ire, accompanying nostril gneiss, and carbon dating (read: liberating) our cassette collection from near-decade-long slumbers in cardboard. Now that we're a little bit moored, somewhat, the following is a splatter with what's new; the smell of glue hereparts, books unearthed too, countered with suburban observances and whatnot, ferried along with the full disclosure being that we no longer have to share the studio with the cat box! Anyway, a couple of findings, erstwhile and upcoming.
Some recent scrubs? Sure thing.
What else.
Bobblecods, wrist wrestlers, and whoah, even a show or two!
We have a track featured on a split release with Computer Jizz. Click the pic for the full album on Bandcamp, or listen to our contribution right here.
Found footage, courtesy of our friend, Ken, aka, K.P.G.
We think this tape harkens back to the 2o2o Covid/Pre-Covid era, when we used to send cassette bundles from our Etsy shop. Anyone have a clue?
Birthing, shared with Roberta Flack, Lon Chaney, and Bertolt Brecht. Together we are older than modern flooring, pocket calculators, most of the muppets, and the venerable Walkman. This one is for fellow timeshare comrade, Shea Mowat.
We've been brewing up the cough cough here at HS Annex with an occasion to revisit several mannerisms, styles from bygone gene pools, and the tender gentle whack of an amplified whisk amid a dry-eyed frantic frock & dawdle. For instance, this mirth did a sidewinded swindle to an otherwisdom's wobbleminded leer.
Yes to our irregular updates in the gastro-pun-intentional.
Equal times were expended on this wristed wince, courtesy of J.Ray.
And with verve? Shore 'em up, the landscape could bruise a few.
And speaking of spruce, there are none here in this lair.
A ripe turn for the purse, or lack thereof, and given to scribble-D, ribaldry, wry ounces, and chance encounters in counting ants (not really). Our ring modulator felt ready to chime in again this pm sun one and done. So many technical marvels to prolapse the ladder into spongelike machinations that we felt boggled by the bubos and sought a simpler distension, and so what better to whet & abet than germanium diodes, we thought. If you've read any of our hermitude scriptures since the early 2o's, you'll likely know that this contraption fills a whoah-nellie in our notion of space time. Heck, even ol' Test Dept Lad made a video with one, for like, a while, alone in the Maine woods (look for it on YouTube). There's just something nonsensical about competing carrier waves that are supposed to sprout fruits in the dusty barren of pedal lore. For us, the obliteration and subsequent undressing of sonic archetypes does more to giggle the mandible when you pance them with more homemade benders. Sure, it's likely gonna suck onstage, but hey, that's why we're also experts in the cardboard sturgeon costume industry.
We're revamping some old pals. The proceeding ditties highlight our ongoing sludge and garbage glee, doing combat with noise to wrench summa the angst and liberate the sneezes.
A new verbalizer in the works...
And the Wonder Wheel gets a nod.
Likewise, fresh outa' Warsaw, we bring you the following. Thanks to our old friend, Bartek, for catching the fish!
Speaking of ripe - presenting an excerpt with the unflappable Olivier DiPlacido. We had a good hang last December making recordings, playing out, and ample evenings discussing how to improve geopolitics by using more compression in the mix.
And as we have mentioned below, our shops are open. As a tribute to this, we like to highlight our tools - not only accessories in the corporeal sense, but how they can often inform the weighty choices we need to make throughout the course of our work day. The following films feature different aspects to the daily chores.
Wending and whirling our way back west, the following accounts mark our making, raking, raki, and veritable chalky expressions that have become habit formula, de rigueur, etc. First, a few films. In one, we mention that we are open to peddling our clicks and the hammers that form them; and that our shops will likely revel in further details, pending one's appropriate measures in link maneuvering. Two is a number that owes debt to our friend Varuna, who showed us a 9 volt module that went chirp chirp chirp, right around this same time last year. Diggit.
El Neut follows suit. We attempted to dial in more satellite feeds using lo-bit integrated circuits with freshly smeared avocado fingers doing the tiny metal sign. While the cat could care less, one may click on the Behringer to hear what was intercepted on our headphones. A more ominous rendering can be observed in the Soundcloud boop.
A handful of short films. The first one features the morning ice glyphs, followed by a double-loo intervention, courtesy of RFTS. The third video is a return to the glorious softPop, used as a ring mod via piezo contraptions thru our TK External looper. Rest assured, our fingers aren't that craggy.
With extra zest aqui.
Here's little number we did. Visuals by J.
A long time in the works... Collaborative call & response video with Daniel Palmberg, 2o23-2o24.
We've also been puttering on the K2, aka, Que T┣, by using it solely as a voice processor. There's something about this tactic that has endeared us, ever since we shouted into our first coffee can-slinkie-contraption back in the early days, amplified our cheeks with a pair of cheap earbuds, or discovered we could sing garbled nonsense into a modular rig with a homemade mic and control voltage. For us, that raspy unintelligible esophageal just adds a particular spice - an extra crude oil to help further burn the fervor, you know? And so, let's scratch that perennial itch. Click the pic for further grins, go on...
Similarily, one can ponder the following pirate transmission involving hydration practices and peer reviews.
Operating within the same theme and unequivocally ambiguous, this thing actually worked.
Not to be left out of the equation, our friend Micha emailed us a 6 second excerpt of some livingroom huff and puff and stuff we did last year. Needless to say, his pesky cassette player had decided to make a meal out of the tape, ergo the tiny slice. Undeterred, we fed the remnants into our DAW which produced this exquisite corpse.
GX has been sending along some recent epsiodes, featuring not only some of our doings but also a certain so-and-so, alone again... ... in the Maine woods.
Aaaaand... we recently discovered this cool app. Moon Echo is a collab with Audio Thing and the venerable Hainbach. No-input satellite noise? Why the heck not.
Apparently we made one of those year end lists, too. Thank you, Thurston Moore, for catching our ditty, Bun Journal, released on RFTS. Still no idea how he obtained a copy of this.
December, circa 2o25.
We are just-just getting back from the strange aways that spanned our autumn and are in that process of regrouping. In the meantime, we recently intercepted this one and will be working on its spry defiance in the coming months. The pictogram dates back to 'o7, from a cassette release with PCRV called, My Two Dads. Clicking the picture talks about the present temperature in New England, and how one plays it.
Which is another way of saying that this stuff can serve as a great distraction. Diggit.
