The Rita & Wilt - 'Werewolf In The Black Space' CD

sic44

1. Dead Wife Of Hitchcock (mp3 excerpt)
2. Dead Wife Stalks The Grounds Part 1
3. Dead Wife Stalks The Grounds Part 2
4. Land Of Slitting Throats (mp3 excerpt)
5. Night Of The Werewolf
6. The Greatest Death (mp3 excerpts)

released 8 January 2008
edition of 500 copies - AVAILABLE

Reviews

A sinister, erotic undertone also saturates a couple of new releases on the Tasmanian based imprint Cipher Productions. Werewolf in the Black Space (Cipher Productions CD) is a collection of collaborative material from The Rita and Wilt, drawn from a couple of limited run cassettes with an additional unreleased beast closing proceedings. Truly bloodthirsty, this is invigorating, aggressive stuff and works effectively as a whole despite its status as a collection of previously released material drawn from a number of sources. Unexpectedly subtle opening piece ‘Dead Wife of Hitchcock’ stalks the listener for some time with a deep set of repeated, brooding movements before a vicious wall instantaneously declares the arrival of the murderous fiend, who refuses to depart for the duration. This is not an expedition into monotony however, as the colour of the fortifications produced are fascinating throughout, and at key moments contrast is employed as a compositional device to great effect. In actual fact it is the subdued segments that make the sheets of harsh noise appear all the more vehement in attack when unleashed.
Taken from Total Scum Materials

Okay, it would be fair to say that, if ever the world should have to face either massed packs of hirsutely-challenged bipedal man-wolf hybrids or shambling mounds of drooling, shuffling, brain-obsessed zombies and, just for the sake of argument shall we say, we run out of bullets (both silver and otherwise), then the compact tactical nuclear weapon that is this cracker of a CD will be sufficient back-up to enable us to wipe out the entire lot with minimal loss of human life, such is the ferocity of the attack. These six pieces do a damn good job of evoking doom and hellish chaos, conjuring up scenes of rampant blood-soaked slaughter and weak human flesh meeting supernaturally-enlivened creatures vomited up from both the subterranean depths and the deepest occult recesses of the human imagination and psyche. If you want to taste the fear, slap this in your CD tray, barricade yourself behind the sofa, arm yourself with whatever blunt object is to hand and pray that it doesn’t sniff you out.
Two of North America’s finest sonic terrorists combine to give us a rollercoaster-ride through the horror-drenched and ice-encrusted environs of Hell, aiming to chill our marrows and get the adrenaline flowing profusely. Presenting us with sustained metal on metal grind, grainy slabs of distortion and hiss, and gobs of heavy oppressive fear-soaked industrial-machine blasts, coupled with samples from films, this CD provokes the listener to go beyond dread and damnation, into realms where even the dead themselves fear to tread, to the places where light is afraid to go, where even the gods themselves would make excuses not to visit. This is blacker than black; but despite the blasts and barracking and harassing noise this is also surprisingly atmospheric, plunging the listener into a completely enveloping miasma of trouser-wetting dread. Take the excellent first track for instance, ‘Dead Wife of Hitchcock’; the opening four or five minutes, with its metallically pulsating rhythmic grind which eventually gives way to the all out blast-furnace heat of the nuclear wind, is enough to resurrect the ghost of zombie-master Lucio Fulci. One can imagine quite readily hordes of mindless decaying automatons seeking the warmth and sustenance of living flesh and brains as they shamble spastically towards the camera with this track booming out of the speakers.
Bookending the album is an unreleased track ‘The Greatest Death’, the end result of all the preceding madness and catastrophe, the world laid to waste and become a nightmare ruled by the aimless rotting shambling masses. Maybe there are a few isolated pockets of humanity here and there, the blood still coursing through their veins and the heart still doing its job, still loving and fighting, and doing their best to survive in the post-holocaust no-man’s lands. There’s still a hint of a spark, but as time goes on it is getting fainter and dimmer, just waiting for the final and irrevocable extinction.
Yes, this is hopelessly pessimistic and seriously devoid of hope – but isn’t this exactly why such music appeals? Certainly it seems in my case that the blacker the music is the more I enjoy it – perhaps it’s that rich vein of misanthropy that runs through my soul that is enticed out by the prospect that the eventual extinguishing of humanity will one day come to pass.
Taken from Heathen Harvest

This collaboration between wall noise specialist The Rita and dark ambient/sinister guitar drone project Wilt does what every great collaboration should do, it takes elements from each party's sound to make something new, different and on this occasion very frightening.
Taking the combined love of both projects for murder, mayhem, horror, and Giallo films. They weave a collection of tracks that see-saw between been disturbing atmospheric, eerier and face slicing, torso burningly and multiple knife wound brutal. The albums opens up with Dead wife of Hitchcock with its distorted twanging yet clean sounding guitar wow-wow pedal atmospheric cinematics - like an amped up evil Giallo soundtrack opener. The track starts kicking in with a noise layer at about the two and half minute mark and sadistically adds on & on the sonic pressure like large vice like hands trying to force eyeballs out of a twitching head. Later on Land of slitting throats invites you into a sea of boiling, bending & burning noise collisions of huge ear singing tone. With an undercurrent of sinister sweeping cinematics that bubble closer to surface ever so often, coming into clear creepy sonic view for a few moments towards the track's end.
All of the tracks here par one were originally released on now long out of print cassette editions. The extra track here has never been released anywhere else before and is entitled The Greatest Death, it starts off in fitting deep and sleazy synth/guitar tone that brings to mind a movie victim's slow crawl away from their killer. That suddenly explodes into a raging and pulsing wall of noise battering (as if the killer had enough of his victim crawling and goes in for an explosive attack), but still at its bloody base are the track's sleazy and atmospheric origins. Throughout the rest of the track's twelve minute life, it alternates between head battering noise overloads and sudden stops in sleazy ambient tension.
It's all packaged with suitably disturbing black & white female murder victims stills from Giallo moives. Hats must been taken off to Cipher Productions for reissuing this sleazy, atmospheric and violent gem. Let's hope Wilt and The Rita decide on some more audio terror and torture together again very soon.
Taken from Musique Machine

Counter to the proliferation of "objects" in amongst other things cybernetics but also in the world of celebrity which appears to cover everything now - including The Rita - I was reading that despite our primitive notions of number - that numbers may not be objects at all but properties - if so then what we have here is a denial of that, of the de-establishment of the totality of what The Rita was and is (now) in collaboration with Wilt which erodes the semantic totalities into something with beginnings middles and ends.
The provision of such pieces found here re-casts the object as some narrative process, negating what was once The Rita's truly indistinguishable noise (back) into authorship. The semiological breakdown has been (sadly) arrested. As is said elsewhere the "murderous rampaging of The Rita material shaped, shrouded and clouded by Wilt." droney echoey rhythmical intros washed in reverb merge into static and lowrise noise feedback and back out again or sometimes fade into oblivion - or blocks of hail and blue echo-spaces like english bank holiday weather.
Taken from Vital Weekly