Search:kind of zero

Bizz O.D. is somewhat of a mystery.
A known fact is that she released noisy hypnotic acid-house tracks on Force Inc. and Smile Communications back in 1993-1998. 'Warship The Speakers' was taken very literally when Detroit was kneeling in front of their sound- system praying to the allmighty bass drum. 'I'm Coming Out Of Your Speakers' went heavy rotation with Junior Vasquez at Sound Factory NYC. A collaboration with Jimi Tenor for OZON Records in 1995.
A few live shows have been proven to be Bizz O.D. herself. She would send someone, kinda anybody, to play her trademark Casio RZ-1 drum-machine and tweak her TB303 acid-lines. The vocal loops coming off some defunkt Dictaphone. So she's never been really seen or photographed. Bizzi has ZERO social media except the mentions on Discogs and some up-loads on YouTube.
'The New York Push' is two previously unreleased tracks. Fetish club, distortion and newyorican-soul all in one. Set aside some pretty bizarr promo pictures that will add to the mystery.
It's House, New York House with a Latin-Industrial subtext. Ok, whatever!
P.S. Bizz O.D. live shows this year in Berlin, her new home since 2017. The 'T' a monthly tea-dance with Eric D. Clark of Whirlpool Production fame at Paloma/Berlin. Catch her if you can!

If you check the credits of The Rolling Stones' Goats Head Soup LP from 1973 you'll find a certain "Pascal" listed on the percussion section. That is none other than Los Angeles based artist Nicolas Pascal Raicevik (1933-1994), aka 107-34-8933, aka Head, aka Nik Pascal, aka Nik Raicevic. Besides his hitting the bongoes on the Stones album, Nik was a great artist on his own, both as a painter and as a musician. As a musician, he was a pioneer in the use of synthesizers, preceeding the Berlin school by some years when his Head LP was released on on Buddah in 1970. Buddah probably saw in Head the opportunity to cash in some money from the remains of the psychedelic scene - the three tracks on the LP are named after drugs used in the late sixties. The sounds, however, are accomplished works that show Raicevic as one of the most interesting pioneers in the use of synths. The album probably didn't do too well, since Buddah didn't renew the contract with Raicevic, who instead took his own way releasing his works on his very own Narco Records and Tapes label. Between 1968 and 1975 Narco would issue 4 LPs credited either to Nik Raicevic (Beyond The End... Eternity) or Nik Pascal (The Sixth Ear, Magnetic Web and Zero Gravity) plus one credited to 107-34-8933 (Numbers, which is in fact the same LP as Buddah's Head, albeit with different cover art). Copies of these LPs came with an ironic sticker over the shrinkwrap that read "Do not listen to this LP if you are stoned".

1972 saw the release of The Sixth Ear (Narco NR666), this time credited to Nik Pascal. A more complex work than Beyond The End..., it adds consistent rhythmic patterns to the mix with the addition of bongoes and also explores some interesting chord progressions.

Besides his musical explorations, Nik was also an interesting painter. His paintings are auctioned from time to time, and are consciousness expanding works influenced by abstract cubism and surrealism, some kind of Salvador Dalí on drugs exploring the outter and inner space. All the artwork on the sleeves of his LPs is done by himself. Spacey landscapes and psychedelic colours that fit perfectly to the music they contain.

"Nik Raicevic's music is at the intersection of radical psycho-electronic weirdness and kraut kosmische music (in particular the scifi-hypno-minimal modules of Conrad Schnitzler in Grun, Rot and Blau). It presents mega epic & tripped out electronic improvisations.

"This is an absolute must for collectors and fans of visceral, neurotic soundscapes." (progarchives)

"As far as late-60s / early-70s American Bedroom' Electronic Music goes, these LPS have to be among the first transmissions from this sector, made all the more attractive when coupled with Raicevic's alien topographIes - the covers are high-color portrayals of Venusian lanes, knotted growths, & future-past architecture in a style you might equate with Vintage' sci-fi pulp-novel covers - & copious Downer' sentiment. This music is imbued with a sort of lonely, anti-social sensibility that's about as far as you can get from the Academic' Early Electronic vector. I will say that if the Steve Birchall, Cellutron & the Invisible, and/or Pythagoron™ seed your garden, this will likely do the same." (twoheadeddog)

Never reissued before on vinyl format, the Wah Wah reissue features original sleeve artwork made of paintings and drawings by Nik himself and reproduction of the famous ironic "Do not listen if you are stoned" sticker. Limited edition, 500 copies only.

If you check the credits of The Rolling Stones' Goats Head Soup LP from 1973 you'll find a certain "Pascal" listed on the percussion section. That is none other than Los Angeles based artist Nicolas Pascal Raicevik (1933-1994), aka 107-34-8933, aka Head, aka Nik Pascal, aka Nik Raicevic. Besides his hitting the bongoes on the Stones album, Nik was a great artist on his own, both as a painter and as a musician. As a musician, he was a pioneer in the use of synthesizers, preceeding the Berlin school by some years when his Head LP was released on on Buddah in 1970. Buddah probably saw in Head the opportunity to cash in some money from the remains of the psychedelic scene - the three tracks on the LP are named after drugs used in the late sixties. The sounds, however, are accomplished works that show Raicevic as one of the most interesting pioneers in the use of synths. The album probably didn't do too well, since Buddah didn't renew the contract with Raicevic, who instead took his own way releasing his works on his very own Narco Records and Tapes label. Between 1968 and 1975 Narco would issue 4 LPs credited either to Nik Raicevic (Beyond The End... Eternity) or Nik Pascal (The Sixth Ear, Magnetic Web and Zero Gravity) plus one credited to 107-34-8933 (Numbers, which is in fact the same LP as Buddah's Head, albeit with different cover art). Copies of these LPs came with an ironic sticker over the shrinkwrap that read "Do not listen to this LP if you are stoned".

Magnetic Web was released in 1973. It appeared under the Nik Pascal monicker and showed a clear evolution in sound, favoured by the addition of an Arp 2600 and some rhythm boxes. It also included percussions and cymbals. The Two Headed Dog site thinks "this is his masterpiece in all of its acid-laced glory."

Besides his musical explorations, Nik was also an interesting painter. His paintings are auctioned from time to time, and are consciousness expanding works influenced by abstract cubism and surrealism, some kind of Salvador Dalí on drugs exploring the outter and inner space. All the artwork on the sleeves of his LPs is done by himself. Spacey landscapes and psychedelic colours that fit perfectly to the music they contain.

"Nik Raicevic's music is at the intersection of radical psycho-electronic weirdness and kraut kosmische music (in particular the scifi-hypno-minimal modules of Conrad Schnitzler in Grun, Rot and Blau). It presents mega epic & tripped out electronic improvisations.

"This is an absolute must for collectors and fans of visceral, neurotic soundscapes."

"As far as late-60s / early-70s American Bedroom' Electronic Music goes, these LPS have to be among the first transmissions from this sector, made all the more attractive when coupled with Raicevic's alien topographIes - the covers are high-color portrayals of Venusian lanes, knotted growths, & future-past architecture in a style you might equate with Vintage' sci-fi pulp-novel covers - & copious Downer' sentiment. This music is imbued with a sort of lonely, anti-social sensibility that's about as far as you can get from the Academic' Early Electronic vector. I will say that if the Steve Birchall, Cellutron & the Invisible, and/or Pythagoron™ seed your garden, this will likely do the same."

Never reissued before on vinyl format, the Wah Wah reissue features original sleeve artwork made of paintings and drawings by Nik himself, and reproduction of the famous ironic "Do not listen if you are stoned" sticker. Limited edition, 500 copies only.

If you check the credits of The Rolling Stones' Goats Head Soup LP from 1973 you'll find a certain "Pascal" listed on the percussion section. That is none other than Los Angeles based artist Nicolas Pascal Raicevik (1933-1994), aka 107-34-8933, aka Head, aka Nik Pascal, aka Nik Raicevic. Besides his hitting the bongoes on the Stones album, Nik was a great artist on his own, both as a painter and as a musician. As a musician, he was a pioneer in the use of synthesizers, preceeding the Berlin school by some years when his Head LP was released on on Buddah in 1970. Buddah probably saw in Head the opportunity to cash in some money from the remains of the psychedelic scene - the three tracks on the LP are named after drugs used in the late sixties. The sounds, however, are accomplished works that show Raicevic as one of the most interesting pioneers in the use of synths. The album probably didn't do too well, since Buddah didn't renew the contract with Raicevic, who instead took his own way releasing his works on his very own Narco Records and Tapes label. Between 1968 and 1975 Narco would issue 4 LPs credited either to Nik Raicevic (Beyond The End... Eternity) or Nik Pascal (The Sixth Ear, Magnetic Web and Zero Gravity) plus one credited to 107-34-8933 (Numbers, which is in fact the same LP as Buddah's Head, albeit with different cover art). Copies of these LPs came with an ironic sticker over the shrinkwrap that read "Do not listen to this LP if you are stoned".

Nik's last album, Zero Gravity (Narco NR123) came under the Nik Pascal name and had a fantastic side long piece on the title track which reminisces of the works of Cluster. B side features four tracks that also bear some Conrad Schnitzler reminiscences. This was to be Nik's last LP before he would sell all his synths to ex car racer and future electronic/ambient music star Steve Roach.

Besides his musical explorations, Nik was also an interesting painter. His paintings are auctioned from time to time, and are consciousness expanding works influenced by abstract cubism and surrealism, some kind of Salvador Dalí on drugs exploring the outter and inner space. All the artwork on the sleeves of his LPs is done by himself. Spacey landscapes and psychedelic colours that fit perfectly to the music they contain.

"Nik Raicevic's music is at the intersection of radical psycho-electronic weirdness and kraut kosmische music (in particular the scifi-hypno-minimal modules of Conrad Schnitzler in Grun, Rot and Blau). It presents mega epic & tripped out electronic improvisations.

"This is an absolute must for collectors and fans of visceral, neurotic soundscapes."

"As far as late-60s / early-70s American Bedroom' Electronic Music goes, these LPS have to be among the first transmissions from this sector, made all the more attractive when coupled with Raicevic's alien topographIes - the covers are high-color portrayals of Venusian lanes, knotted growths, & future-past architecture in a style you might equate with Vintage' sci-fi pulp-novel covers - & copious Downer' sentiment. This music is imbued with a sort of lonely, anti-social sensibility that's about as far as you can get from the Academic' Early Electronic vector. I will say that if the Steve Birchall, Cellutron & the Invisible, and/or Pythagoron™ seed your garden, this will likely do the same."

Never reissued before on vinyl format, the Wah Wah reissue features original sleeve artwork made of paintings and drawings by Nik himself, and reproduction of the famous ironic "Do not listen if you are stoned" sticker. Limited edition, 500 copies only.

"The kind of melancholia I'm talking about, by contrast, consists not in giving up on desire, but in refusing to yield. It consists, that is to say, in a refusal to adjust to what current conditions call 'reality' - even if the cost of that refusal is that you feel like an outcast in your own time." (Mark Fisher, Ghosts Of My Life, Zero Books 2014, p. 24) In Ghosts of My Life: Writings on Depression, Hauntology and Lost Futures', the author Mark Fisher outlines - to put it in a big way - a resistant melancholy. This stands in contrast to leftist melancholy resignation', as well as something which Fisher does not talk about: its common masculine counterpart, habitual post-left cynicism - as in seen it all before'. Fisher calls this hauntological melancholy. Haunting, spooks, ghosts and apparitions are an almost constant presence on I Started Wearing Black', the second album by the Cologne-based artist Sonae (pronounced so-nah'). The term hauntology shares a fate with retro-futurism when it comes to inflationary overuse and abuse. It's a conceptual container that looks good and can hold a lot, indeed, too much. Furthermore, hauntology has its peak season behind it, a term on the threshold of its expiration date. Nevertheless, I would like to rehabilitate hauntology and use it properly to characterize I Started Wearing Black', because the term is rarely as compelling to describe music as is the case here. The most recent other example could be Asiatisch' by Fatma Al Qadiri, but with a completely different frame of reference. What are the ghosts of this music It rustles, crackles, ruffles, crunches, rattles, scrapes, sometimes a beat emerges from the constant noise, sometimes an obscure voice mumbles incomprehensibly, sometimes a melancholy piano figure is prevented by this noise from coming too much to the foreground. It definitely is eerie - to bring into play another term used by Fisher in the title of his latest book, The Weird and the Eerie'. In British pop-jargon, eerie first occurred to me more often when referring to particularly leftfield, spooky and... well... ghostly dub, a bass-heavy, echoing noise, from Augustus Pablo to Creation Rebel to Burial. Unlike the Wald & Wagner records by Wolfgang Voigt, Sonae is not a kind of neo-romantic veiling with a tendency for escapist nebula. It is more a noise of latency. The noise signals a latent - not necessarily acute - threat, a latent uneasiness about... yes... about what About a System Immanent Value Defect' That's the name of a track on I Started Wearing Black' where something that sounds like a French Horn (or a foghorn) battles for attention through or against the background noise. An email from Sonae: The piece 'System Immanent Value Defect' should actually be called 'I See Turkey'. I wrote it for my fellow student Elif - she is a pianist and Gezi Park activist from Istanbul. Through her I witnessed the inner conflict and agitation that political circumstances can create: her feelings of guilt when there was an attack, with her safe in Germany as a student, watching the events from afar. It was horrible. When her mother begged her not to come home because she feared for her safety, I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I started with the piece from this mood, beginning with the piano, then the noise (modulated sinusoidal curves), which reminded me of waves and the then heatedly discussed Mediterranean sea: atmospheric, melancholy motifs. In contrast is the anger, the pressure, represented in corresponding sounds - hopefully audible! - During this time I started to think about world views as they can be found around the globe, in how far they held by societies and their political representation. I realized that I know of no political system that is actually about the people and what would do them good. It's always about positions, power, money. I thought that was a lot more frightening on a global scale than merely viewing Turkey in isolation. That's why the piece is called "System Immanent Value Defect", because our world suffers from precisely that. Everywhere, it's all about the wrong things.' Between the wrong things there are happy moments. In the title track, after 184 seconds of rattling and hissing, a beat is unleashed, like an arrow released from a spanned bow, a beatific relief, if there is such a thing. White Trash Rouge Noir' first meanders along spookily, then after 144 seconds it transforms itself into a distant cousin of Einstu¨rzende Neubauten's Yu¨ Gung', but there is no Big Male Ego to be fed here, and the black in the album title is a completely different type of black from that of the Neubauten. Furthermore, I Started Wearing Black' was finished long before the black dresses were worn at the Golden Globes as a sign of protest against sexual violence. Sonae writes that she herself started wearing black some time ago. Her reasons are so-called personal ones: ... resulting from an individual situation (lovesickness), I started to wear black (gaining weight and feeling ugly).' The political dimension of gaining weight, feeling ugly and therefore dressing in black in I Started Wearing Black' lurks within the noise and never becomes explicit and only rarely manifest - or a manifesto. Sonae writes about the track We Are Here': A piece for minorities... in this case, considering the current pop-feminist discourse, explicitly for women. Female artists have long been saying loud and clear that 'we are here' and 'electronic music is not a boys club!' But this pop-feminist moment should only be seen as one part of the dedication of the piece. It is for minorities, for the oppressed, who didn't belong enough.'

Klaus Walter

Having grown up with and on the internet, Martin Steer (1986) has transformed its pull into a concept album that is just as immediate and intangible as the digital world. Bad Stream is guitars and machines vanishing in the spaces between Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails only to reemerge amidst Ambient, Noise, and Drone. Bad Stream, then, is his modus operandi - a hybrid soundtrack to the feelings of resignation, isolation, and cynicism within neoliberal cyberspace and to that strangely numbing comfort of bodies transmuting into zeros and ones in real time.
'I look at my phone even when I play guitar,' says Martin Steer, 'and that isn't even entirely voluntary. The 2010s really changed my perception of how digital technologies and social media affect me as a musician. Through Bad Stream I want to make sense of this particular kind of anxiety, and to use sensory overstimulation as a way to develop an independent and progressive musical language.'
The past seven years took Martin and his laptop and guitar from Berlin to Mexico and Nepal and, as a founding member of Frittenbude, into the German charts and to various festival stages. And yet, Bad Stream is a true 'Berlin album,' out of Friedrichshain, Neukölln, and Kreuzberg and will be released on Martin Steers own label ANTIME. It was recorded with real drums and programmed beats, with shoegaze guitars, acid baselines, piano, smartphone synths, violins, field recordings from the darknet and his voice, whose hopeless timbre conveys reflections on systems, the future, drugs, people, and his own place. In his ever expanding A/V live shows and in the music videos, this is supplemented by complex visuals.

Here To Hell is an Australian label project conceived by The Presets' Kim Moyes, and Revolver resident DJ Mike Callander.
Inspired by a Johnny Cash song, by the record industry' in general, and by the spirit of commercial suicide, Here To Hell celebrates the pointlessness of everything: It's the perfect reason to do only what feels good.
Together Kim and Mike also record and remix as Zero Percent, and along for the ride they've invited Aussie musicians and remixers from all over to celebrate techno, electro, Aussie rock, ambient and whatever they think sounds good on repeat in your headphones.
The label's first release sees legendary Aussie band The Drones being remixed for the first time. Their song Boredom' from the album Feelin' Kinda Free' has been twisted into two dancefloor interpretations (plus a dub of each): Side A is by K.I.M, who takes the original's Aussie Rock to the disco, and Side B is by HTH label bosses Zero Percent, it's their first official published work and explores the darkness of the original instrumentation that underpins Gareth Liddiard's exceptional vocals.

REPRESSED !
1970's "Osmium" was Parliament's debut album and possibly the first real indicator of where George Clinton and his notorious band of psychedelic funksters might be headed. The ground zero of P-Funk if you will. Existing since the late 50's as a doo-wop group it was the bands later offerings that sculpted their unique, mildly warped idea of what the FUNK should sound like. Initially they cut a couple of 45's for Detroit Soul label Invictus in 1970 (both of which appear on the LP) then embarked on recording more music for the project, their first full length offering on the label. The group also released the debut Funkadelic LP in the same year with both albums feature the same personnel. The conditions under which "Osmium" was realised have since passed off into mythical status with colourful anecdotes involving marathon LSD consuming sessions in isolation in their Toronto studio and a general air of hallucinatory, intense mental psychosis prevailing throughout. It's under this druggy haze that Parliament honed their own sound, a raucous, blown out, tripping stew of R&B, Blues, Soul and Funk replete with early P-Funk trappings.
"Osmium" is a fascinating ride, wild, rampaging heaviness of the most soulful kind. A glimpse into what was to come from one of the most enduring and colourful groups of the last 5 decades. Often a very difficult LP to track down it has always been sought after and extremely expensive to buy. Appealing to fans of Black music, Rock and psychedelia equally it's contents have shocked, entertained and grooved open minded music lovers since it's release over 40 years ago.
This is the first time the record has been reissued in over a decade, complete with original artwork. Remastered, reissued and fully licensed with the full permission and involvement of Invictus Records, Detroit.

From the whip-like crack of Yako's signature staccato vocals and impossible-to-memorize lyrics to the relentless overdrive tempo of their oneof-a-kind prog-core, Melt-Banana have long resided in a cybertopia of their own devising where the limits of technology and human capability are old-world concerns as quaint and cumbersome as bartering with a blacksmith. The demos for Fetch, their first studio album since the severely fried pop-punk of 1997's Bambi's Dilemma, were completed in March 2011, but the Fukushima earthquake changed everything, including
their ability to concentrate on recording. Which stopped completely.

Once they felt ready to return to their music, they decided to approach the songs on a sound-by-sound basis, choosing each tone with meticulous attention to detail, affirming their personal connections, being themselves naturally and openly.


Fetch scrapes glam shimmers off punk's outermost fringes and forges them into a rather intensely technical Deanscape packed with fantastical hybrids. Agata's guitar riffs, seemingly composed in tandem with skipping CD players, are more bad-ass than ever, bright and fractured like the soundtrack for a CC-Hennix-scored biker flick. The album is juiced with electronics and post-rock production, tempering what could easily be a
tiresome and predictable frenzy, yielding unexpected associations: Kate Bush climaxing on Walter White's blue meth; demos of late-period Wire playing metal run through Wasp synthesizers and Autotune; unripe wild
lychees keeping time on an Ankgor Wat tin roof during a monsoon.

They've been performing live as a duo since summer 2012, and will do the same for their '2 do what 2 fetch' tour in support of the album. After nearly 20 years of playing with a live rhythm section, their use of a PC, while opening possibilities for a variety of drum and synth voicings, does not signal a move away from the traditional live band sound, as heard, for example, via the future transmissions from downtown Noiseapolis on
2009's Lite Live: Ver. 0.0. Yako and Agata say they need to feel real band sounds onstage as much as someone in the audience. This is a group that routinely excels at several kinds of impossible simultaneously, so of course any new challenge they come up with for themselves is sure to blow the doors off your Mini Cooper. - First record as a duo expands the M-B sound
into multiple dimensions - LP includes digital download card; first
pressing on clear vinyl

I started this album simply writing a script, I think it is important that an album has a continuity that gives the album a cinematic sense, basically this must to tell you a story. For this time I chose the topic of: the development of human evolution in the future.'
I find it interesting to experiment with the sound and textures of the classical music, but not with the idea of how to adapt a techno track with classical instruments, I prefer to writing scores from scratch for each of the instruments and adapting synthesizers as part of that orchestra. I think that all this brings us an epic ingredient, that from the beginning I think it was the link between classical and techno music.
Besides the classical music, I have been experimented with different kinds of recording and synthesis, also I created almost all the sounds from zero. I have included different fx sounds, developed it with techniques as morphing and overlapping layers of sound, all to setup the tracks with a complex and rich textures, but with care about do not obtain something pasty.
I worked a lot with the space' in the tracks, trying to place each sound in a particular three-dimensional situation with clean reverbs, also the feeling of tension' is highly significant in this work, but ultimately the most important thing has been to build on a script written -as I said before- so that the narrative is a fundamental part of the album.

To anyone with even a passing interest in the weirder end of good-time party-ready house music, Freaks should need little introduction. Luke Solomon and Justin Harris have been keeping our preferred kind of dancefloor vibrating to the cheekiest manifestations of house music since the mid- 90s, never letting up and moving in the same oscillations as the good ship Circus Company. From first emerging on Phono through to setting up their Music For Freaks label, stopping by Playhouse, Wash House and Rebirth amongst countless other labels along the way, the UK duo have constantly given the traditions of house music a tickle in the ribs without losing that fundamental funk that makes a record great to dance to. We were thrilled to welcome Luke and Justin to remix Dave Aju's 'Nu Threads' at the end of last year, and now we follow up on that connection with a special EP of gems from the extensive Freaks archives. On 'Shrunken Heads (One Pro Mix)' the rock solid foundations of filter house music collide with flamboyant synth noodlings for a truly cosmic end result, while 'Absolut Zero' finds solace in a slower, deeper groove peppered with oddball effects tweaking and disembodied vocal samples. Heading further into loose-fit, slippery territory, 'Funk You (Who Do You Trust Dub)' lets soulful sample licks wriggle and writhe through a decidedly laid-back atmosphere that shows off the range Freaks have always sported in their output since day one. In many ways this coming together of Circus Company and Freaks feels like a logical development for two bastions of the oddball house music community, not to mention a great opportunity to hear tracks that otherwise might never have seen the light of day.