Thursday, May 23, 2013

The Wet Black Poodle Transforms - Ludo Mich, Syed Kamran Ali and Pascal Nichols



This delicious artefact, housed in a concertina of wrap-around screen printed primitiveness contains two lively and possessed performances, one recorded in Manchester and the other Sheffield. It documents a three way split of talent... a triad of Flemish sound poet Ludo Mich, Harappian Night’s Syed Kamran Ali and Pascal Nichols of 'Part Wild Horses Mane on Both Sides' fame.

Chaotic colour a plenty, De Zwarte Natte Poedel Transformeert is full of dynamic angles, searching out the magic on the crests of wordless mutterings. Huge tectonic shifts groping the vocals, at points melding brilliantly in a psychotic soup of possibilities…. I swear, at one point, Ludo sounds like there's bolts of electricity actually flying from his hands to a rampage of despotic hysterics… Later, he's hunted down in a bombardment of tape chew and broom handles, smarting in unsettling shrieks and anguish...(I hate to imagine what the neighbour's think is going on)... 'Black poodle' Ludo croaks 'Black pooddle... blacccckkkkkkk' a phlegmy backend attack of spiking 'K' to a buckling canvas. This is seriously mental stuff, even in the quieter more itchy lulls it bubbles with sinister goo... Looking at the disc art, Mr Ludo certainly cuts a bulky scarecrow figure of insanity, head all hand bracketed in a gothic gloom, his body lumbering in viciously satisfying skews. Staggering grumbles sawn across in destructive strings, or pressurised yelpings lanced in scatterings of spinney hedgehog …

Het Wezen Is Op Zoek Naar Een Ziel starts in static rips and distant raptor calls... all muted yowl to cymbal tinsel and bouncy tautness. Fractured jazz and vowelly explosions with Monkey's headband aches 'ta-ta-ta-taring seemingly goaded in goaty sneer. Splintered laughter and golem footed smashes releasing a weird alchemy of free fall percussion and squalling piglet sax-o-phonics born from rubbed polystyrene. Ludo floating above like some wire harnessed angel of wrongness, gasping, arguing with himself, his voice heaven flung and echoing.... oooh this is good and when the trio suddenly take off in a brief bout of animal lunacy, all that's left is simmering debris and rapturous applause.

Curious chemistry indeed...



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