For the uninitiated, Waves Crashing Piano Chords is the self-proclaimed “Juggalo” power electronics project of one Sean Beard. Mr. Beard’s been down with the clown since 1997 and that ain’t no joke. His live performances include full clown makeup and Faygos; molesting onlookers with nothing more than a microphone and some nasty feedback. He’s been on quite a tear over the past couple years with a steady flow of releases, including a number of limited edition lathes, laser discs, 8 tracks, and anti-records.

Be prepared to ride a wave of ear-splitting microphone feedback on the album’s opening track, “And Then I Cum.” Armed with little else than a microphone and amp, Mr. Beard sculpts a slow moving current of piercing, shrieking feedback. Sounding at times like a distressed animal, the piece is primal to it’s core. It’s so lo-fi and minimalist that I can’t help but be taken in by the brutal simplicity of it all. Despite the crudeness of the 5+ minute piece, it doesn’t feel random or sloppy at all, but rather tightly controlled. Like a sorcerer who is able to control the powers of the nether world whom he has called up by his spells, you get the impression that Mr. Beard has toiled with his tools long enough to know exactly where he’s taking those waves of feedback. Side A’s next track, is a punk rock sized piece entitled “I Got Off To Your Facebook Page.” Clocking in at barely a minute, the track is a delivery vessel for processed vocals and dancing microphone feedback. Mr. Beard’s high-pitched vocals sound like they were run through a pitchshifter or some other type of effect, as if he was sucking helium. It’s a departure from the burlier vocal stylings I was familiar with from some of his earlier works. Short and punishing, the track is a nice little bookend for side A.

Side B consists of a live set entitled Live At The Bug Jar 03/16/13 (I Hope I Get Aids, ..or is it me?). I’m generally not a huge fan of live recordings, however this live set compliments the overall lo-fi sounds quite well (actually the recording is pretty high quality for a live gig). The set starts out with a slow moving wave of piercing microphone feedback, but then rapidly picks up the pace. The vocals kick in to add to the brutality quotient. Gruff and harsh, Mr. Beard just straight up screams into the mic with no effects that I can discern. There’s also some interaction with the crowd to give the listener a glimpse into the insanity of the live performance. Some thicker, buzzier low end feedback takes shape before we ride the wave out after 5 minutes minutes or so of mayhem.

There’s nothing flashy or remarkable about what Waves Crashing Piano Chords does. There’s no tricks or pretentiousness to Mr. Beard’s sounds, but that’s kind of the whole point. It’s the pure brutal minimalism that makes WCPC so intriguing and rewarding to experience. In an age of gluttonous art rock and declarations of noise being dead, there’s a certain honesty about what Mr. Beard does. Perhaps I’m listening to this album in just the right mood, but at this moment, it’s really scratching me where I itch.