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bruit-direct.org



Le prolifique artiste australien Glen Schenau (Per Purpose, Cured Pink...) sort ici le deuxième album de son projet Nusidm. Adepte des objets tranchants et des objets dangereux de manière générale, il y a dans son utilisation discrète de la guitare un sens du danger, des mains d'argent qui à tout moment frôlent le drame ("Thrill Hill", "Tagging my friends"). Mais aussi et surtout, Nusidm s'accapare des espaces abandonnés: ces bunkers, ces caves, ces usines désaffectées, parfois témoins importants d'une histoire longue, devenus recoins de la société, lieux de transgression. Dans ces environnements propices aux fulgurances, il déploie des ambiances cryptiques: voix déformées comme un assistant vocal multi-piraté, percussions industrielles, boue synthétique, basse arachnéenne, frottements maniaques, angoisses cardiaques in petto. Il y a un certain sens du lugubre, du spectacle de pénombre qui peut rappeler par moment un Blixa Bargeld qui aurait laissé son exubérance et son lyrisme au placard au profit d'une plongée en apnée dans les mystères de l'obscurité ("The re-incision"). Nusidm trace les pointillés dans les regards obliques ("Peep doco") vers le grand inconnu, le prochain plateau. Mais le théâtre de curiosités explose aussi parfois de convulsions qui se raidissent avec brio d'un texte articulé ("Arm unemployed"). Tout ce que fournit la circonstance, aussi profonde soit elle, est une source précieuse ("Talking to animals"). Et on termine ce bel opus sur le dos d'une corde de basse dont les vibrations semblent remonter des profondeurs de la tentation.'
@redlightsanatorium,

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This record needs ,or is pleading to have a FAC/tory catalogue number, but for an “actual”? factory state-of -mind ;-documentation for the disenfranchised and exiled snot !;-the love herein is turned fumescent and gluey NUSIDM (THE Australian Glen Schenau) has “de” and “re”-constructed a cell dwelling paradigm to his desire, or for it? Where whatever’s “ugly”? And squalid is honorable or not at all .
The artist, hard to believe, means to communicate through his incarceration, self -imposed but needing people “still” and needling away from people. Society .Community. Ptoooey,,
So, here is the sore kneed agitation audio. The cranky, sullen ,broken telescopic perception.,(for your delight). Here’s a record out of it !
Here’s a record because of it !!
,,the tap ,tap,tapping Throbbing Gristle as his Sam Cooke,coughing up hearts into his pillow, Cabaret Voltaire in times like these of strike anxiety,power outs,schematic curfews,
Can you hear !?-Through his wall
Dead c -on -45-faking Otis unplugged and dismissive of prescriptive sleep and food regimes , The most elegant ornamentation in the place is Chinese take out containers for drums ,leaving food half -eaten and ideals colder still,
Factory pharma #16
In isolation (quarantine ),the artist is many Itchy ,scrapey,picky,fidgety a neurasthenic rhythm orchestra hitting shit to establish his “voice”, corrupted and begging for translation,through crust caked sonic layers Ooze and stuck poster foliage ,
By the time he’s “understood”?
He’s enraged
Beyond “rescue “?Wronged again and flattening bugs not fast enough to scurry for cover with shoe heel percussion,
There’s anxiety in the hint taint of incoming Mass production, this after all is a small project, uncommodified Rodent protest to Romance Enjoying a bit too much the taste and texture of its own chewed up tail,
But Wait!! On occasion there’s light!!
Accessible toy flutes and whistles ,
Flare and scratch colors across the drain stained sound fields
Subliminal swathes from out of cut up ventilator shafts ,
Herald Interzone !! rooftop epiphanic -cacophonies of promise !1!
,as if Royal trux are scoring a requiem for a hasty wedding for quicker money ,
The only kindness ,..He may be gone already !?
He’s crossed out !
Abandoned himself to rumor
Of course he’s left , This before he “clocked out” as a big FACt#0 Gotta love NUSIDM ,,
- Chris Rowley (Adulkt Life, Huggy Bear)

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Ten brilliantly confounding provocations from Brisbane warlock Glen Schenau (Per Purpose, Cured Pink, Bent, earlier in Kitchen’s Floor, amidst others). Moods fall to various recognizable styles (postpunk lord, croonin’ Iggy full-chestal shake, soccer hooligan), buttressed by everything-is-a-drum percussion, a whole mess of dissonant struck-string/tin can telephone loops, and unconventional lead instrument choices. But there’s a spatial placement to these aggravated sounds that seats them at odd distances to your ear (some right next to, some from two rooms over), which gives the whole album a “shreds” quality that transcends the notion that music is some sort of joke. If “Tagging My Friends” or anything else here sounds like four songs being played at once, I’m taking the over: I just heard four new songs in a way that radically saved my time (and as we know, time is of the essence). There’s something about the very treatment of these riffs and the coating they’re given, like how the fairly easy/weird groove of “Melody Moody - The Re-Incision” becomes menacing over the runtime, that lands the same way The Shadow Ring tended to land, same as the Pheromoans, and let’s all land there on stilts. (bruit-direct.org)
(Doug Mosurock)

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Ah, Glen Schenau's inimitable Nusidm returns on one of my favorite labels, Bruit Direct Disques. We must enjoy these moments of kismet, no? The Last Temptation of Thrill fleshes out a refined version of Nusidm found on Hatred of Pain: less vocals, less crowded, and reimagining the dirge as something miasmatic and smothering. Largely gone are the clean, tromolo-picked guitars, but the drums carry the weight, something made perfectly clear on "Katy und Abel" and the beginning of the fully dystopian "Run to the Shops." There seems to be a lot more electronic layering in these tracks, songs built up not by clenched muscles but by feedback, pitch-shifted vocals, pedals and maybe even tape loops. This approach makes "Sit and Watch the Sunrise" come across as a threat, and reaches a logical, thrilling endpoint on "Arm Unemployed" and "Melody Moody - The Re-incision." The slow build of noise in the latter cancels out the jazzy bass line reprised from Hatred of Pain's "Vapid" and covers itself in thick mud, vocals escaping through the air vent and desperate for a response. The record builds up in fits and starts, interspersed with instrumental tracks, the best of which are on the B-side: "Tagging My Friends" brings back the frantic clenched-teeth acoustic playing, and "Talking to Animals" is all feedback and woodwind shrieking, taken home by the downtuned bass. The album's elements coalesce on the chaotic "Arm Unemployed," previously released but finding its home as the penultimate track here, which kinda sounds like Glen's take on rap-metal, if they ever made room for a xylophone solo. It must be heard to be believed, but you'll be nodding along for its five-and-a-half minute duration. The Last Temptation of Thrill is Nusidm as confounding as ever, but as potent as ever, too; the artist-label pairing here greater than the sum of its parts. Three hundo copies to go around, and sharply outfitted in Glen's own artwork and font to further confuse the issue. Come join me on his planet.

www.tumblr.com/goodbysunball

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Just when I thought Nusidm and the various works of its creator Glen Schenau were too uncompromisingly eccentric to find a label to call home, the mighty Bruit Direct steps up in what is undoubtedly an appropriate pairing. Nusidm’s 2021 album was a righteous entry in the crowded field of post-punk no-wave, cutting its own choppy path as what I thought might be the first “free-dirge” record, and The Last Temptation Of Thrill is a stellar follow-up, a sharpening of Schenau’s warped blade. Nusidm remains a fully deconstructed rock group here, with songs that have me picturing motorized limbs flailing without bodies, the sort of thing you’d expect to find lingering in Boston Scientific’s dumpsters. From the warbly bass-guitar to the clattering drums and steel-wool guitar, each instrument behaves in only loose accordance with each other, pushing onward to somehow form a song in spite of themselves. I’m still hearing the most out-there moments in the Slugfuckers’s brief discography, or perhaps The Pop Group drained of all funk (imagine if you can!), or Mars deprived of air (just like Mars the planet), though the language of Nusidm is ultimately more feral and cracked. “Run To The Shops”, for example, opens with a couple minutes of the drums all by themselves, clanking contentedly while the rest of the band goes on smoko. Is there even a band, or is it four Glen Schenaus wandering around the room?

MK @https://www.yellowgreenred.com/