Session XII: [Throbbing Gristle, Teeth of Lions Rule the Divine, Galerie Schallschutz]

 

 "Beauty is our enemy" 

-Genesis P-Orridge
 

The year is 2501; archaeological excavations near Site 14 situated in present day London reveal an interesting yet unassuming item dated from the last quarter of the 20th century. The contents of this antiquated medium become a source of endless perplexity for its finders. Cultural historians of the era dismiss it as an aberrance done in bad taste whilst others hail it as the point where Western culture finally and inevitably dissolved leaving in its place a cold and dry aesthetical wasteland - from Beethoven to Throbbing Gristle, from music to anti-music. But there is also that small portion of discernible souls who might just sense artistic honesty where others see only puerile experimentation. From their perspective the provoking licentiousness of Throbbing Gristle's Second Annual Report (Industrial Records, 1977 / re-release CD, 2011) was in its essence intended as an unwelcome mirror - repellent and unforgiving in its reflection - and that it was on such unlikely and transgressive ground where inspiration took root and bore fruit. And the question hanging on their lips would be: was anybody listening?

Being the sonic equivalent of a human stampede Teeth of Lions Rule the Divine's Rampton (Rise Above / Southern Lord, 2002) almost feels like you're hit by a sudden shot of tetrodotoxin - it paralyses you and leaves you there transfixed with no choice but to shut up and take it. By the end all you've got is that eerie smile and the epileptic visions of a madman. One can only fathom what a mindfuck-fest this would be if these guys opened for The Melvins and Sunn 0))) in some forgotten venue at the gates of Purgatory.

 

Imagine yourself traversing a vast, Arctic landscape somewhere in northern Alaska. Every feature, every landmark signifying civilization and warm familiarity drowned in a glacial sea of immaculate white. The sheer immensity of that shivering quietude is enough to reduce anyone, given enough time, to a helpless victim of delusional paranoia and gripping fear. Somewhere in that state of mind you will find Galerie Schallschutz's HAARP (Tesco Organisation, 2002). Deep and droning ambient inspired by clandestine research projects housed in massive ill-boding architectural edifices, goverment skullduggery and obscured truths. "For all who still want to think and who still can think".