Newcastle's Joe Solar Plexus Posset wrote some lovely stuff about our 3-inchers... Thanks Joe!
Scrim – Facetide 3 inch CD-R. Two tracks of ‘eh!’ from the mighty Scrim. First offering is a loop-based mong ritual. All whirring electronics and echoed squeak-hinges. The main skinny matches drawn-out fake bird calls (a silicone-based canary perhaps) against mini tug boats emerging from freezing sea-fret. Brrrrrrr. Then the ghost of some Bhutanese horn solo peers through the fog twirling your ear hair. Comes wrapped in a piece of paper depicting a melting eyeball (or something).
Scrim – Untitled 3 inch CD-R. One longish track of heavy, doomy electronics. Like the soundtrack to a film about depressed goats; this is one moody bitch. It made me think of Throbbing Gristle. Not that I ever really sort out the Throbbies myself (crap haircuts & greatcoats) but I read plenty. From what I gather they were looking for this peculiar grey and unsettling quality that Scrim seemed to have tossed off as easily as posting a letter. Yeah...you heard it here first...Scrim out Throb the Gristlers. Track two comes across like the sound effects from Tom Baker era Dr Who...a sand storm on Skaro? Whistling and abrasive this one comes wrapped in a drawing of legs turning into trees.
Scrim – Post Incdmeula 3 inch CD-R. I’ve probably got the title of this one wrong...I can’t make it out clearly. That’s a pity because this is a ‘must have’ disc for anyone interested in the new out there (or TNAT as I like to call it). 5 tracks of hissing, seething tape melange. All hunkered down and twitching yr sweet spot all tender like. Scrim do that most magic of things and manage to arrange their loops not vertically...like one stacked on the other but horizontally...beneath and beside each other. I’ve no idea how they manage this...hey if I did I wouldn’t be writing this chump down....you’d be reading it off the reflection in my eyeballs man. But it’s not all cracking malevolence...there’s real beauty in some of these melting, warped strokes. ‘Dropped Letters’ is like the conversation between two brain-damaged robots....declaring their love for each other with mushy mouths and tinfoil voices.. Awesome. Comes wrapped in a drawing like some diseased ice cream.