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08/30/08 at club jupiña colada/PS-14- MIAMI, Florida
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09/02/08 RENO @ BURNING MAN AFTERPARTY / Grand Sierra Resort RENO, Nevada 09/19/08 TILBURG @ ZXZW WITH DOORMOUSE TILBURG 09/27/08 MOSCOW-RUSSIA @ SICK FEST VI MOSCOW 11/08/08 PRÄZISIONSWERK ESPENHAIN 12/05/08 Reggie’s Rock - chicago, IL* 12/06/08 Miami, Florida MIAMI, Florida* 12/11/08 Elysium - Austin, Texas* 12/12/08 The Knitting Factory - LA, CA* 12/13/08 Historic Sweets Oakland, CA* 12/20/08 Fez Ballroom - Portland, OR* 12/21/08 Nectar lounge Seattle, WA* * otto + venetian snares + cyrus + naha |
Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with Otto von Schirach (MySpace)? Did his parents put too much (or too little) LSD in his bottles when he was but a wee one? Was he psychosexually molested by his own invisible friend at the tender age of 17? Is he even human, or could he actually be that legendary PimpBot 5000 "breakdancing prototype" who supposedly escaped from the CyberDyne's labs before it could be decommissioned because it had developed a software quirk that made it always want to do The Worm in front of Roman Catholic nuns? Is he proof of de-evolution?
These are questions which may never be answered. But that's okay, because whatever is going on in Otto von Schirach's mutant mind, it's 100% Totally Cool. And his latest album, Oozing Bass Spasms, is proof positive that the man has a talent for funky weirdness that would stagger even Mark Motherbaugh.
So, let's see--what are the known "facts" about Herr von Schirach? He's definitely from Miami, Florida--that much is certain--and he is thought to be of Cuban/German descent, though there are those who maintain that birth records show that he is, in fact, the son of J. R. "Bob" Dobbs. Miami is a swirling vortex of musical sounds, so Otto grew up listening to everything from booty-bass to salsa to IDM/breakcore to death-metal, and all of these influences appear in varying combinations in his work. The psychotic, abstract, and oftimes vertigo-inducing beat-salads and massacred tones of his earlier albums on Miami's Schematic Records (one of the labels that pioneered the IDM movement in electronica) brought him to the attention of industrial gods Skinny Puppy, and his contributions to their two most recent albums, The Greater Wrong of the Right and Mythmaker, not to mention the fact that he opened for them on most dates of their tours in support of those albums, earned him a lot of notice and critical acclaim.
And now he's back with a new album on Cock Rock Disco, and it's a very noticeable departure from his earlier works. And as much as I loved the unrestrained insanity of those earlier works, I think Oozing Bass Spasms may be the breakthrough record that will make Otto von Schirach a household name...at least in households of beautiful mutants.
Otto's first album, 8000 BC, was a challenging slab of mangled sounds that pummeled the senses so completely divorced from reality that listening to it would make Antonin Artaud himself into a gibbering wreck. Later albums like Chopped Zombie Fungus and my personal favorite, Global Speaker Fisting, were just as crazy and weird, but were much more controlled and listenable affairs, with bouncy beats and recognizable--if completely whacked-out--lyrics that managed to sound like gangsta rap done by Terrence McKenna after he's ingested enough mescaline to make his neurons bubble. There's always been two competing elements in Otto von Schirach's work that, until now, have never managed to gel properly: his love of surreal, slashed-and-burnt soundscapes and his love for silly club beats. Finally, on Oozing Bass Spasms, these two elements have come together to form an album that will make you dance and make you feel as though you've taken one too many hits of the brown acid at the same time!
Though the album is, of course, all over the map--it wouldn't be an Otto von Schirach album if it weren't--it's still primarily powered by overdriven 808 and 909 kicks and snares, weird raving synths, samples from porn movies, and Otto's trademark chopped-up vocals. "Subatomic Disco Divas" and "Nightmare Nipple F" launch the album with laugh-out-loud samples and simple, but extremely catchy vocals. If "Subatomic Disco Divas" doesn't have you chanting "Honeys on the flo', let 'em ride, let 'em ride / honeys on the flo', let 'em ride, let 'em roll," then get your ass off the dancefloor. But just when you think this is going to be an album of eccentric, but certainly danceable, cuts of acid techno with a little IDM thrown in, Otto busts you in the mouth with the wicked gabba blast-beats and hideous shrieking voices of "Magnetic Rave Headache" (which really will give you a headache if you listen to it too loud). "Gelatin Fixation," with its opening sample, "Big...wet titties," is a slower, slinkier number with a woozy bassline and a headbobbin' beat that wouldn't be out of place on any contemporary gangsta rap album. The lead single from the album, "Dance Like a Hoe" and "Romance in the Club" are beastly club bangers that manages to lampoon shallow club music while still providing beats that demands booty-shaking. "Her Blood Is Poison" is an amazing chunk of straight-up electro whose Afrika Bambaata beat and bassline are held hostage by the creepy, downright evil warbling vocals and "Zombie Halloween" is a light-hearted little track that captures the glee of flesh-eating and trick-or-treating on The Greatest of All Holidays perfectly. "Sliced Doves on Codeine" is the most funked-up remix I've ever heard--a downright terrifying mutilation of Prince's "When Doves Cry" featuring a buzzing kickdrum pound that will make your blood sizzle. "Fried Eggs in My Ear" brings back the black metal blast beats and mixes an 8-bit rendition of one of Beethoven's hooks with skullcracking percussion and demonic screams from the very carnival of hell.
Oy! This is an exhausting album. Seriously...there's so much energy in Oozing Bass Spasms' explosive beats, freaked-out lyrics and samples, and tortured synths that listening to the album straight through will make you feel like you've just run three miles uphill to escape from a horde of Killer Tomatoes. Nonetheless, this is still a surprisingly listener-friendly album full of memorable hooks and jams, whose wicked but childlike humor will leave you with a smile on your face and a tangled mass of poisonous mental fungus growing in your brain. This is "Intelligent Dance Music" at its finest, mainly because Otto von Schirach clearly doesn't take himself too seriously. And neither should you. So just get the damn album already and open your Third Nostril to its omnipotent Slack-increasing aetheric vibrations!
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