1. (18:54)

recorded live at camp blood, 2004
art by jesse jackson. designed by john wiese.

phil blankenship (electronics)
gms (guitar, electronics)
pete swanson (electronics, vocals)

Brainwashed
Chuck Palahniuk's meditation on silence and noise gave me an idea last night while listening to this disc—all those harsh noise providers out there must be afraid. They sit in front of their equipment and they come up with ways to drown the world around them out of existence, at least for a little while.

If this is at all possible, then the collaboration between Phil Blankenship and the members of Yellow Swans might be the most arresting and peaceful space ever created under the name of noise. Coil did something similar when Constant Shallowness Leads to Evil was performed live: they claimed to provide a space where the listener could wrap themselves in the most protective blanket ever and, from there, contemplate the world around them.

Seeing how harsh noise almost always confuses me and ultimately turns me off, approaching any music of that kind in this way is helpful. This roughly nineteen-minute one-song recording was performed live at Camp Blood in 2004. I'm not sure where Camp Blood is, but if this was actually recorded in the woods somewhere, the entire scene must have been terrifying. The name "Camp Blood" immediately reminds me of nightmares I had when I was little, when Jason would chase me around in his damn hockey mask until I ripped that mask off his face and he disappeared altogether. In the comfort of my room, however, this recording sports the following benefits: it drowns out the noise my roommates and their friends make in the next room. All the noise tends to blur together and take on the properties of a drone, it has reduced my frustration on several occasions and has also managed to put me to sleep when played at low levels. I know this isn't what harsh noise intends to do. I know it is supposed to be frightening and I know that the sudden shock of squeals and improperly tuned radios are supposed to repulse me and somehow remind me of all the silly conventions normal music adheres to helplessly. But this harsh noise stuff is beginning to sound like a weird mirror of all the "drone" music I'm in love with.

Even when played loud, music like the stuff that's on this particular release sounds like attention-hungry sound manipulation. Not that a Colin Potter release and this one have anything in common other than their inherent distance from most of the musical world, but there is something to be said of constant sound and unrelenting density when mentioning drone or harsh noise. Both are present, but for the most part are used for different ends. When the noise first hit my ears on this release, I was slightly shocked and I almost turned it off. After ten minutes of its continuous cacophony, I was almost unaware it was even playing. Listening to it over and over again has alerted me to the fact that sometimes harsh noise isn't what it claims to be. It's a sort of oxymoron.

Okay, so Prurient's last release really is a harsh piece of noise work, but eventually noise just drops off into the background and becomes a shield, just like Coil said it could. Once someone is comforted by noise and made to feel its positive contributions, can one really call such a thing harsh? That's exactly what this little release does, it starts out as a disgusting figure of impending doom and ends up being that fort you built when you were little, the one that was perfect for escaping the real world and imagining whole new ones.

So the question is, are we all noise-oholics because we can't stand the peace and solitude of silence or is it because noise really drowns out all the other crap constantly shoved down our throats through the radio and television? In physics noise is the disturbance of a signal, like a distortion of some kind. Here noise is really the same thing, but the thing it's distorting is probably best left distorted. Who wants to hear their roommates yammering on in the next room or the next "clever" beer commercial anyways? Stuff like this might be the warmest blanket you can find this Christmas. It is the season for commercials, afterall. - Lucas Schleicher

Girl From Paradise
a woman who does discovery at a westside law firm will forever hate this cd. for her it will always conjure thoughts of tripping backwards & stepping into a box of case files, damaging important paperwork in the process. she could've wiped out and fallen on her ass but instead she saved herself by grabbing hold of a desk chair, thus steadying her balance and preventing total humiliation.she had placed those headphones on with little or no thought behind the action and was expecting to hear statements, something so routine that she hadn't even bothered to take a seat to complete the task. poor girl. i was sitting nearby and it was incredible how the sound pierced right through the headphones and into the office, i had forgotten the disc in the drive it seems. hours after the incident had occurred she was still not talking to me, so i was really surprised when she stood right in front of me all of a sudden demanding to know what exactly that was. i tried to explain but she was convinced it was some kind of, uh, 'gag'. this is a woman who when she works in the conference room, will play the eagles or eric clapton because they help her 'chill out'. she told me later on that her ear canal felt ravaged for the rest of that day & night. i think it's safe to say her perception of me has been tainted. luckily our interaction is minimal, so everybody wins.
a collaborative effort that starts off by lunging at you with a furious velocity. you don't get a chance to do much more than blink before this track has you on your knees & deep in the violently gross wreckage. and on your knees is where you'll stay for the almost 19 minutes the track lasts. it is varied and layered, but never lets up. give up & give in. the three currents behind this pummel through you & drag you in. this is being overwhelmed at it's very finest, you surrender your struggle and sink to the bottom in a defeated stupor. there is no delivery here because delivery calls for consideration and this track considers nothing. it is a maliciously persistent piece that has little mercy for tender ears or faint hearts. there are no second guesses here. action is king and the action is nonstop. exploding slabs of sheet metal, sounds that mimic static frying and bubbling over. nonstop. for those who fancy a faster hand, you're in for a treat. not just fast hands but forceful hands. no means yes hands. nonstop hands. hands that push shards of ugly sounds into you & through you. if you favour being handled with a certain roughness, this is highly recommend. play it loud and get thrown around. the caustic symphony will mute your tender cries.
my heaviest applause is dedicated to the distinction & sustained momentum. for such a brutal piece there is so much texture & character. a lot of 'harsh' / heavy releases lose my interest quickly because they fail to go beyond volume & abrasive quality.here you are veiled in a variety of gunky electronics. vocals come through sounding like they've been bathed in basement acid. all of this pummels through you & while it does things change into brief ribbons of brewed sounds that pulse or ring. quickly things escalate and soon you're right back in red of the slaughter. all of this and not once is the momentum sacrificed. there is also a deeply creepy air about all of this. when it gets really terrible it feels as though all of these magnificent, vein-scraping sounds were manufactured in a cellar somewhere- water pipes clogged with rust & floor boards that don't creak but instead cry long & loudly. towards the end the distinction folds over and everything comes together. like a disease of the blood, all the sounds are dispersed throughout the body so that you can't locate the spot of contagion. steady & true to you from start, this closes with intensity just like it opened with it.
exquisitely addictive & heavily rotated. i am partially biased due to my love for both yellow swans & the cherry point being fierce, immense, and intoxicatingly consuming. together they are dreamy deluxe and hopefully there is more collaborative work released in the future.
recorded in 2004, live at camp blood. seems as though a select few, truly magical projects are reserved for recording there. camp blood is where noise sweethearts lodge & insanity thrives. i wonder what will come outta there next...one track long & perfect because of it. the artwork and design are equally spectacular. pocket that cash you were gonna score a hit of lsd with and just lie back & stare into the cover. that's right! you get to trip with your eyes AND ears. direct all notes of gratitude for the 'experience to' mr. jesse jackson(art) & mr. john wiese(design).
made possible by almost obscenely productive & free of facial hair(hopefully just a seasonal augmentation / trend...) troniks.

Musique Machine
Live at camp blood is a head melting kaleidoscopic noise trip, clocking in at near the twenty minutes mark. It rarely lets up and you'll leave your initially listening sessions slightly shaken. But like the best noise, over time it develops its own sense of chaotic satisfaction.

It all starts with a corrugated steel ripping pulse , then swirls of noise erupt from it's edges, like cracks in the sound. There are really lots of neat swirls of fiery static going on, as feed guitar back is added giving an animal like purr. There is a structure here, as the pluses of static dip in and out more and more. A sea saw like sound bounces about, and the sound picture clears somewhat as the guitar makes some enjoyable harmonic screams. It's like the sound of something sourly electronic bouncing on a string. As the track moves on it alternates between the sour electronic harmonics and corrugated steel tears of sound, but all along there’s a superb tense atmosphere, heavy with hovering dread.

A tasty little offering of audio terror, which makes prefect sense when a quick hit of audio carnage is needed. Another very satisfying release from The cherry point and my introduction to the Yellow swans. If all their stuff is of this quality, I will be hunting some down, as soon as I can. - Roger Batty

Foxy Digitalis
Overdriven, wild, energetic and damaged, this assault of feedback and skull-peeling distortion adds another flame to the growing Yellow Swans fire. Howled screams, utterly out-of-control electronics and an indistinguishably fucked guitar furiously pound their way through a quick 19 minute flash of aggression. On their own, Yellow Swans are capable of some of the better propulsive noise jams, but with The Cherry Point (one Phil Blankenship) bringing another suitcase of electronics to the mix, schizophrenic hysteria takes control. Pushing the instruments and amps to their absolute limit, this collaboration reduces the "song" to a crackling roar. - Dick Baldwin

Vital Weekly
News from noise camp. Pac Rec men Phil Blankenship is The Cherry Point on electronics and Yellow Swans are GMS on guitar and electronics and Pete Swanson on electronics and vocals. The almost nineteen minute collaboration between the three was recorded live at Camp Blood in 2004 and is a single noise track. Feedback, distortion, voices (really? where?) crash in upon each-other like a bunch of cars at a rally. Loud, mean and dirty. A bit of Merzbow but with the occasional grunt here and there adding their own perspective. Pretty strong, if you catch my drift. (Frans de Waard)

Friends of Devils
There is a noise scene out in the sticks that is unapologetic about making real noise. Not noise that is trying to be clever or technical. Just pure slammed in the face noise with accompanied screams. The strength of this scene is that much of it is actually listenable and exciting. ‘Live At Camp Blood’ is a case in point. Don’t bother trying to fathom out what they’re trying to do, just enjoy the feeling of exhilaration as sound wave after sound wave pummels the body. I am tempted to call this no-brainer music, but it does the business so the trio of Phil Blankenship, GMS and Pete Swanson must be doing something right even if I don’t understand what it is they are trying to say.

Collective Zine UK
Ok this is the yellow swans live at camp blood. This band usually release stuff through cdr or cassette, but this is a cd only release by I heart noise…and as you would of guest its a noise record, nothing much goes on, a bit of noise, the occasional glimpse of a beat, lots of static and feedback (I think there’s vocals as well but it could have been anything). I guess if you like this type of music you’ll probably know the score already, i.e. you listen to a load of brutal noise and then some thing comes to the foreground and picks up your attention. I don’t really like this; I like my noise to be meditative rather than abrasive, as the edge of it hurts my ears, no doubt its amazing live, but I'd rather not listen to it in my house. Sounds similar to liabach, wolf eyes, throbbing gristle. For anyone who dosn't know noise bands, this is simular to the diamond sea - Sonic Youth, but not as good, a lot more brutal and with a load of static on top. This is 19 minutes long, I listened to all of it and I won’t listen to it again, the beginning scared the shit outta me, the end was nice, it was like they dropped a beat but it was silence.

Dead Angel
You know, there's violent power electronics, and then there's psychotically violent power electronics. This album -- approximately eighteen minutes of raw-boned, overamplified pedal destruction, recorded live at Camp Blood in 2004 -- is firmly in the latter category. I haven't heard Yellow Swans by themselves yet, but given the company they keep, I'm guessing they're at least as diabolically obnoxious and painfully loud as the Cherry Point, so the potential of putting them together... well... all I can say is, I sure hope everybody involved was wearing earplugs. The sound is not exactly new, but it's been a while since I've heard a band sounding as dense and crunchy as early Macronympha or Merzbow, and the sound is certainly violent enough to suit my purposes. Pedal abuse + ridiculous volume + incoherent shouting + more pedal abuse + still more pedal abuse + feedback that will make warm pee run down your leg + crunchy massive clusterfuck of deviltones that will make your mom want to set your whole record collection on fire just be safe = eighteen minutes of audio abuse. Don't say you weren't warned when your stereo speakers catch on fire.

Heart Attack
Heavy feedback and twisted sounds give this noise record a horror quality. It combines all the disjointed mayhem of a scary moment but prolongs it over about 12 minutes. (That seems like a short cd but feels quite long for this reviewer.) Recorded live, Yellow Swans and Cherry Point make you feel trapped with this set. Fans of noise will love its surrounding quality; fans of music will run screaming with their hand over their ears. No doubt a success on both fronts for these noisemakers.