HR092 - Minóy - Nervous Compliant - C60 — 1988
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Side A:
Nervous Complaint Side B: 91890JH20 Funhouse (Memphis, 1977) |
REVIEW by Jerry Kranitz
Nervous Complaint is a 60-minute sound exploration from one of the homemade music underground’s truly exciting artists.
All of Side A is taken up by the 30-minute title track, which thrusts us immediately into high intensity mode, feeling like a cross between a glacially space-age raking over the piano strings and a ghouls and goblins Halloween soundtrack. Is Ambient-Terror a genre? Much of this conjures up images of being trapped in a cave, only inches from the grasp of screeching demons tugging at their chains to get at their hapless victim. Minóy excels at keeping me well out of my comfort zone, while keeping me laser fixated on the unfolding audio adventure. Around the 10-minute mark it sounds like the demons might be tiring of trying to reach their prey and firing up their power tools. I had to remove the headphones at one point due to the unsettling sensation of ear-piercing oscillations whirring away in my eardrums. Kudos to Minóy for creating a full-blown ‘experience’.
Minóy set the bar pretty high with that one. Side B opens with ‘91890JH20’, which is similar in spirit to Side A, but with a dramatic toning down of the intensity and image inducing audio horror show. It’s a gradually evolving minimal pattern of icily high-pitched shriekscapes and muddy everyday crowd noises.
Finally, ‘Funhouse (Memphis, 1977)’ was originally recorded in 1977 at the funhouse at Libertyland amusement park (now closed), and he added new recordings to it for this release. Returning to the powerful imagery of the title track, Funhouse is similar to ‘Nervous Complaint’, but lighter on the terror and more like a fully conducted demonic symphony. I’m picturing Leonard Bernstein leading a cast of tapes and electronic effects. I love the ebb and flow, and at times the sensation is noisy and edgy, yet serenely so. Then, SURPRISE, right after the 15-minute mark there’s what sounds like a telephone conversation.
Note that the Harsh Reality cassette cover is lost to history. The one displayed is the 1997 reissue by HalTapes (with a little obvious modification.) Harsh Reality label commander Chris Phinney would like it known that at this time he disappeared for six years. He had no internet, did no recording, and shut down the label due to depression. He gave this release to Hal McGee, who returned it after Chris’ return. During this six years Hal and Bryan Baker were the only people Chris talked to on the phone. He just worked and raised his kids, both of whom helped keep him sane, got him back to recording, back on the internet, and reviving the Harsh Reality label.
Nervous Complaint is a 60-minute sound exploration from one of the homemade music underground’s truly exciting artists.
All of Side A is taken up by the 30-minute title track, which thrusts us immediately into high intensity mode, feeling like a cross between a glacially space-age raking over the piano strings and a ghouls and goblins Halloween soundtrack. Is Ambient-Terror a genre? Much of this conjures up images of being trapped in a cave, only inches from the grasp of screeching demons tugging at their chains to get at their hapless victim. Minóy excels at keeping me well out of my comfort zone, while keeping me laser fixated on the unfolding audio adventure. Around the 10-minute mark it sounds like the demons might be tiring of trying to reach their prey and firing up their power tools. I had to remove the headphones at one point due to the unsettling sensation of ear-piercing oscillations whirring away in my eardrums. Kudos to Minóy for creating a full-blown ‘experience’.
Minóy set the bar pretty high with that one. Side B opens with ‘91890JH20’, which is similar in spirit to Side A, but with a dramatic toning down of the intensity and image inducing audio horror show. It’s a gradually evolving minimal pattern of icily high-pitched shriekscapes and muddy everyday crowd noises.
Finally, ‘Funhouse (Memphis, 1977)’ was originally recorded in 1977 at the funhouse at Libertyland amusement park (now closed), and he added new recordings to it for this release. Returning to the powerful imagery of the title track, Funhouse is similar to ‘Nervous Complaint’, but lighter on the terror and more like a fully conducted demonic symphony. I’m picturing Leonard Bernstein leading a cast of tapes and electronic effects. I love the ebb and flow, and at times the sensation is noisy and edgy, yet serenely so. Then, SURPRISE, right after the 15-minute mark there’s what sounds like a telephone conversation.
Note that the Harsh Reality cassette cover is lost to history. The one displayed is the 1997 reissue by HalTapes (with a little obvious modification.) Harsh Reality label commander Chris Phinney would like it known that at this time he disappeared for six years. He had no internet, did no recording, and shut down the label due to depression. He gave this release to Hal McGee, who returned it after Chris’ return. During this six years Hal and Bryan Baker were the only people Chris talked to on the phone. He just worked and raised his kids, both of whom helped keep him sane, got him back to recording, back on the internet, and reviving the Harsh Reality label.