The first side is indeed the Horsing side, and its a noisy affair - though not especially abrasive. It starts with some borrowed screaming, before a strained keyboard and more borrowed speech come in. It then jolts in to a harsh stereo split with chaotic skree coming through each channel; with a distorted J-pop song emerging from the noise - I could presume its Yukiko Okada, but I have no way of checking. After some heavily distorted bass rumblings, and another jolt to clipping electronic sounds, the rest of the tape is more or less a static wash of noise. All of the compositional, timbral and sound-field movement is thus essentially contained in those first few minutes. Though, saying this, the tape does come to a close with some “gaps” of feedback, and another long, indiscernible sample from a film or tv programme; before another quick passage of the static. This static wash is a rushing surge of treble, with submerged elements lurking beneath; it doesn’t have the textural detail of a good HNW track - its more just simple blinding noise.

The Zebra Mu side is quite a different proposition - its all movement. To some extent, my reaction to the track could simply be a result of Mr. Mu listing his set-up on the inlay - contact mic, sandpaper, plastic bags, two distortion pedals and a delay pedal. This kind of minimal set-up leads my brain to ask how far it is being stretched, how much the restraint is being overcome. The list also provokes a visualisation of the performance. This all makes for a very enjoyable listen. There’s a physicality to the piece - possibly informed by that visualisation; a genuine sense of real time improvisation. (Though there’s no clear indication that its either a construction or a one-take improvisation.) Now, a lot of noise recordings are improvised, but here Zebra Mu really does exude a sense of exploring his set-up - really “playing” it; though as I said, my reaction could simply reflect my brain acting on the list of gear, and thinking in this certain way. But there are parallels to be drawn between this track and the logic and method of free improv. There’s the same constant exploration and refusal to languish in one “place”. So whilst, in some senses, there’s quite a limited palette of sounds, these sounds are pushed and pulled into a very colourful display: chopping bass rumbles, slicing feedback, spitting, crackling noise. There’s an incredible array of textures brought forth; and they do feel properly visceral and abrasive. Where the Horsing side has a general sense of saturation with no texture, Zebra Mu is ceaselessly interesting and moving. It would be hyperbolic to suggest that Zebra Mu is the John Butcher of noise, or that this is a master-class in noise textures; but you get the idea…