Tissa Mawartyassari — Red Succubus

This tape, from Palinopsia Recordings, is very smartly designed and illustrated, using grainy black, white and red to great effect. The album has two tracks, both around the half hour mark; the first side is called Red (side 1), and the second Red (side 2). That’s really all the context the pro-printed inlay supplies, which gives the whole venture a genuine sense of mystery and obscurity.

The tape begins with a lot of hiss, setting the stage for a very lo-fi soundscape - and the tape certainly is very lo-fi. Crescendos of noise that border on wash emerge and build, dropping later, all the while accompanied by buried rumbles and clipping thuds. At points, there’s almost a sense of breathing, as if the sounds were being made by an agitated animal. Around the 6 minute mark, the piece explodes into junk noise. Like the earlier sounds, these are also somewhat stop/start; though the echoing junk skree has a more colourful, kinetic quality to it. After sparse noise stabs, and some feedback, a different set of sounds cuts in around the sixteen minute mark - it might even be a different recording altogether, collaged with the first. This time, the pummel is much more bassy and thuggish, though it too breaks down into sparse, reverb drenched hits. Before the side finishes, there’s an ear-grabbing section, where almost-tonal sounds are added into the mix. These ghostly strains are very welcome colour.

Side 2 also announces itself with hiss, but the sound that rises up is much darker than before: a very nice, bass-driven wall, that sounds like the earth splitting. This low end obliteration creeps along, before building into a more raging blast of noise. Despite the massively overloaded saturation, some acoustic elements sneak through - possibly the sound of a metal bucket or similar, presumably contact mic-d and distorted to annihilation. This speeding wall of noise (sometimes spiced up with some chorus), churns through the speakers, creating a bassy, murky sprawl. There are some sudden, short feedback bursts later on, which break from this murk and shock the ear. Around the thirteen minute mark, there’s a noticeable shift in the overall sound, but a couple of minutes later, the track opens out into all-out, scorched earth, fury. This just as quickly dissipates into very nice crumbling textures, before building again into more agitated pummel. In the latter stages of the piece, this skree has sections where it almost seems to wind up and down, as if it can’t settle.

This is a great explosion of lo-fi, no frills, harsh noise. Tissa Mawartyassari’s assault is very lo-fi and saturated, and whilst this leads to a definite lack of detail and finesse, the atmosphere created is truly gripping. It’s perhaps reminiscent of some of Richard Ramirez’s harsh noise work - and indeed, Ramirez and Monica Sanchez (the figure behind Tissa Mawartyassari) have worked together numerous times. Houston, Texas, so much to answer for…