Harry Pussy-Stop-Live
This is quite
possibly one of the most badly recorded tracks there is on the iPod and
probably one of the worst quality recordings that I’ve got amongst all my
1000’s of CDs, tapes and vinyl. This isn’t because, like a fair few others, that
it’s been transferred and copied over and over again from old C90’s to pc’s and
then converted to mp3’s and then burned to cheap CDrs from Asda or Tesco and
then finally ripped back onto another PC, converted to an m4a and plonked onto
the iPod, but it’s just genuinely a poor, poor quality recording.
It’s from a live 10" album by Harry Pussy, recorded at their final ever show at Churchill’s (I guess that was a club of some sorts), Miami, Florida in 1997.
It’s from a live 10" album by Harry Pussy, recorded at their final ever show at Churchill’s (I guess that was a club of some sorts), Miami, Florida in 1997.
I think that the concept of a mixing desk was
quite alien to them-everything is overloaded to fuck; the needles must have
been continually boucing in the red. The only production credits on the album
sleeve state that it was mixed in L.A. by some chap called Tom Smith from live
tapes recorded at Churchill’s by the lovely-named Rat Bastard.
Now, I do have the distinct impression that Mr. Bastard just happen to be some pisshead who had just collapsed in a corner of the club, had some sort of recording device thrust in his hands and told to press the red button when the band came on stage. He must have fiddled with some dials as well-probably from the sound of it, totally at random. Things keep dropping out and then suddenly distorting beyond belief. At one point all that can be heard is the sound of a bass played by someone who sound as if they are either wearing oven gloves or if they have never picked up the bass (or any instrument before).
I get the feeling that old Rat Bastard spent a lot of time wandering around the venue with the microphone stuck in his pocket and it does sound as if, for a couple of songs at least, he decamped to an adjacent underground car park where the happy tunes of Harry Pussy seeped through the concrete like some primeval sludge. Between each song there isn’t even what you could describe as a faint smattering of applause. There’s odd bits of clapping and a bit of murmering and, unlike many gigs in America, there is certainly no whooping, whistling or hollering.
At the end of each song the drummer and singer, Adris Hoyos, mutters something along the lines of “we’re Negative Atomic Dust and this next song is called Drop the Bomb”.. Each time she refers to themselves as a different band and the song titles bear no resemblance to what they actually play. Every song seems to just start half way through something and judders to a halt for no apparent reason. Maybe it was because it was their last ever gig, but a general air of boredom and indifference emmanate from the band and and it all seems to be reciprocated by the audience who, from the sound of the record appear to consist of about three or four hardy souls, wandering around in a drug- enchanced haze.
White noise seems to be the prevalent sound on the record and even when it’s not, there’s a contant undercurrent of just distortion.
“Harry Pussy Live” is a brilliant record and is what rock music is all about.
Get/see/read "Totally Shuffled" here:
Kindle http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00CJYZ3CA
Paperback: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Totally-Shuffled-Listening-Broken-iPod-/dp/149495687X
Now, I do have the distinct impression that Mr. Bastard just happen to be some pisshead who had just collapsed in a corner of the club, had some sort of recording device thrust in his hands and told to press the red button when the band came on stage. He must have fiddled with some dials as well-probably from the sound of it, totally at random. Things keep dropping out and then suddenly distorting beyond belief. At one point all that can be heard is the sound of a bass played by someone who sound as if they are either wearing oven gloves or if they have never picked up the bass (or any instrument before).
I get the feeling that old Rat Bastard spent a lot of time wandering around the venue with the microphone stuck in his pocket and it does sound as if, for a couple of songs at least, he decamped to an adjacent underground car park where the happy tunes of Harry Pussy seeped through the concrete like some primeval sludge. Between each song there isn’t even what you could describe as a faint smattering of applause. There’s odd bits of clapping and a bit of murmering and, unlike many gigs in America, there is certainly no whooping, whistling or hollering.
At the end of each song the drummer and singer, Adris Hoyos, mutters something along the lines of “we’re Negative Atomic Dust and this next song is called Drop the Bomb”.. Each time she refers to themselves as a different band and the song titles bear no resemblance to what they actually play. Every song seems to just start half way through something and judders to a halt for no apparent reason. Maybe it was because it was their last ever gig, but a general air of boredom and indifference emmanate from the band and and it all seems to be reciprocated by the audience who, from the sound of the record appear to consist of about three or four hardy souls, wandering around in a drug- enchanced haze.
White noise seems to be the prevalent sound on the record and even when it’s not, there’s a contant undercurrent of just distortion.
“Harry Pussy Live” is a brilliant record and is what rock music is all about.
Get/see/read "Totally Shuffled" here:
Kindle http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00CJYZ3CA
Paperback: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Totally-Shuffled-Listening-Broken-iPod-/dp/149495687X
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