Side one of this cassette consists of three tracks of lo-fi clatter, all extremely tinny and gassy, hissing frequencies that any type of Dolby would destroy. They display a sense of fun reminiscent of the Mothers of Invention’s musique concrète attempts, following no rules and ruling nothing out in their celebration of the moment. But, any power their combination of metallic scouring, tweaked feedback and squealing tapes had is disarmed by the bootleg-style recording quality throughout. It’s so bad that it almost seems intentional as some sort of anti-fidelity statement, rendering most of the wacky action as barely discernible above the mid- to hi-end abrasion.

Side two fares much better as all but the final track are large horn ensembles whose heavily layered dynamics of bold, brass drones would be adequately preserved on the most primitive of tapes. Consisting of anything up to seven players using cornets and trumpets and saxophones and tubas, they combine to create writhing and delirious tone walls. These layers of horns wail religiously with an hypnotic power, exorcising woes and embracing absurdity. The fourth track, Live at Darkroom, introduces additional layers of strip club sax soloing that the diving warplane of a drone insists on corrupting adding a transgressive feel to the nostalgia.

With a concept as seductive as a live brass band playing reverberating drones, it is frustrating that the recording doesn’t do it justice and makes one wonder what a studio environment may yield. For the most part, listening to c93 becomes an endurance test, leaving an impression that these high-spirited experiments were probably more powerful and involving live, and certainly more fun for the instrumentalists involved.