Grizzly Imploded - loose tracks I found in my mailbox

Not an actual release this time, but rather 2 disks packed with a selection of (yet unreleased?) tracks by Grizzly Imploded, recorded during the past 12 months. G.I. is an italian trio roving around in the realm of kinda psyched free jazz / noisepunk, not very easy to describe, which is mostly rather a positive than a negative aspect. They released a cassette on Scrotum just recently and a CDr on another label (don't remember which one) shortly after. The predominant guitar noise on these recordings comes along with a pretty slick and frantic drumming, and while I'm still pondering to which extent all of this is composed or rather improvised, I notice the complete absence of vocals here, which probably benefits these songs a lot. At times this reminds me a bit of some noisier stuff on Skin Graft or Troubleman Unlimited, which - as I recall - was sometimes literally ruined by the presence of redundant vocals. I haven't been into this kind of music for the past, maybe 10 years or so (which doesn't mean this stuff sounds outdated at all), but I still enjoyed both disks pretty much. These guys are skilled, without a doubt and this little package was certainly among the better ones I received during the past months. 

Dave Phillips - Video Action 100901 - 3" CDr

Scrotum Records (hode156) January 2012, Edition of 100 copies

Recorded live at The Lab, San Francisco on Sep 1, 2010 and originally intended to be released as a 4-way split of all artists performing that night (DP, Leticia Castaneda, Ryan Jencks and Gerritt Wittmer). The final release is a documentation of Dave's set only, a 3inch disk housed in a neat mini DVD case, presumably displaying the full set (well, at least audio-wise), totalling just under 20 minutes. I have no idea what the video part of this performance was like (assuming there was one regarding the title), but the audible part pretty much works by itself. Presented in a strong and powerful recording by Jim Haynes, the piece starts rather restrained. Asthmatic breath sounds and heartthrobs, an occasional whispering now and then, inhering a somehow uneasy feeling overall.
The more this set evolves, the sharper the exposure of human depravity, which runs like a common thread through the immense body of Phillips' work, comes to light. Besides the mandatory squeaking pigs and yapping dogs, the beforementioned breather slowly seems to be approaching the death's door, increasingly spewing and choking, accompanied by lovely, yet morbid piano sounds and audible sledgehammer blows, culminating in outbursts of noise and vicious, Fear-Of-God-ish vocal eruptions. Even without the video component, a thoroughly absorbing excursion (not only for Schimpfluch afficionados) and a genuine piece of Phillips in all of its obnoxious beauty.

Scrotum Records
Dave Phillips