Our post about Terekke last week sucked us back into a L.I.E.S. records vortex, and we have been loving every minute. L.I.E.S. are DFA if you substitute Genesis P-Orridge for Conny Plank in the pantheon of divinities, and cover it with a mix of offal and semiconductors straight out of Tetsuo’s belly at the end of Akira. We don’t know about you, but we find this extremely topical and alluring.
So down we go again.
Another common feature of L.I.E.S. output is the lack of directionality. L.I.E.S. jams are not sequences but snapshots or shards of a mechanoid moment, febrile recordings of street battles between cyberpunks and religious cultists caught in a infinite loop, the Eraserheadish dreams that come to haunt you when you fall asleep to a scratched Cabaret Voltaire record. Every time we excise one of these jams from their shadowy company and bring them to you is a betrayal, but worth it, if only to spread the virus.
Shane English’ latest record, Eris, is a hypnotic collection of such moments. The mood is more subdued than in other occasions, melancholy even, a lover’s rock for Skynet survivors. Take The Room Tonight, for example. Its drone is what’s left of My Bloody Valentine after a long nuclear winter, strobing glimpses into the love we could have had, if only we hadn’t had to eat each other.