Saturday, 7 June 2014

EEL - Endless Fucker

"I think the ICA probably started to realise something was afoot when a cement mixer was set up on stage, alongside electric drills and jackhammers. There was a piano, too, but that would be smashed to pieces." Alexander Hacke, Einsturzende Neubaten

Reflecting on Einsturzende Neubaten's use of power tools in their infamous ICA performance Alexander Hacke ruminated on the band's intent of "leaving the stage from underneath. The plan was to dig through the stage into the tunnel system underneath the venue". A plan he describes as 'Utopian'. Pittsburgh punk band EEL, take a different approach to the use of (the other) DIY equipment proclaiming themselves to be "OBSESSED WITH DEATH AND DESTRUCTION AND DRUNK WITH POWER TOOLS" in Discharge font on the insert for their new EP Endless Fucker, a 7" on Even Worse in Europe, a 12" on Mind Cure and Konton Crasher elsewhere.



Power tool pogo madness, the fizz and screech of building sites, taking the mechanised destructionlust of power electronics and industrial and using it not as some world-cracking exploration of unfeeling present, avant-garde expeditions into the outer reaches of sonic insanity or a ranging search for a holy harshness to rearrange and rework the cosmic shape of things like the earshredding glories of Ramleh or similar noise bands, but just as a wild piercing backscatter to stomp and career through with breakneck stumblings and pogo lunges, getting bladdered and dancing silly buggers with dangerous machinery, not a care that you might wake up with infected bloody stumps where your thumbs used to be.

It's just the furious scummy shitground for an explosion of bursting punk madness. Bouncing with Tom and Boot Boys/00 Squad swagger through teethgrinding panic squirts. Terminal runs into real ugly muck, in alleys and prisons and divebars, dead bodies and puke piles, squeaking guitar solos, hatefilled drawls. Jisatsu  "VIOLENT ANARKY IS ALL WE NEED/RADIOACTIVE GLUE AND SPEED!" in desperate shouts and monster growls. Endless Fucker writhing with the mauling facts of fuckedworld realities. Combat Amputee Victim and Dead crowing at corpses, giggling at veterans. Sneering and cackling with that sort of teenage untouchable vitriol, no social niceties, no conscience, deliberately dulling it with drugs, cheap fixes, quick highs, chaotic shapings. You're dead. I'm alive. In an uncontrollable runaround, switching from hating on boring drunks, to drinking yourself unconscious, jumping up and doing it again. Squealing into Jisatsu Noisy, a strippedbare mess of toolnoise and drum clatter and looped plunderphonics speech samples, like some weird kid drumming along in his room as the world ends outside. Delinquenx punx, knock it down.



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