Non / Boyd Rice

Boyd Rice is a difficult man to like. Last time he came round the house he insisted on demerara sugar and I have it on good authority (all authority is good) that he never washes behind his knees.

That said, he wears hats well.

Boyd's multi-groove, drill yer own holes Pagan Muzak 7" album remains one of the premier noise artefacts from the Industrial era - from this spawned all sorts of filth, most of it terrible, most of it missing the point.

Non's early Physical Evidence takes sound apart, it's like the Hyde to Philip Jeck(yll); impossible to listen to at anything less than immersive volume. I'm sure headphones don't work; the sound needs to be everywhere, needs to be vibrating the air.

It's not the kind of thing you listen to often. It's musical irrigation.

Sometimes, if you listen really carefully, you can hear the sound sources coming throught the walls: organ bursts, tiki lounge, surf music, porno soundtracks. You're never sure if any of these sounds are really there.

Has he always been following the Blood of Christ? On Embers that could almost be what you're hearing: a close-miked rush of blood to the head, the roar of white blood cells as they try to find the source of the wound.

Embers

If this doesn't jangle your pop-belt then I ought to tell you that Embers is one of early Non's more musical pieces.

One day he could be President.