Norway - Full Moon 75 - 11/20/02
Killer Label Profile
Origami Arktika/Tore H. Bøe/Birchville Cat Motel
From out of nowhere (well, from my editor, but since I've yet to meet him, it might as well
be from nowhere), appeared this recent spate of seven inch singles from Norway, all connected in
their love of archaic vinyl forms and hypnotic, warm, crackling sound succinctness. Colorfully
constructed sleeves, with two of the three slabs pressed up on translucent purple and orange
vinyl (BCM is on black), they show that the Norwegian Killer label just might have something
good cornered, both locally and internationally.
Origami Arktika starts it off with insistent snare clicks, hovering bass, and echoing e-bowed
guitars, all fading in and away with a voice that wavers, stitching in breaths and whispers so as
to sound like low cold waves, washing ashore white angel wings. The B-side has more low pulses,
giving it a shifting, watery foundation with guitar strings that shimmer and sliver along its
surface, sometimes shivering in odd droplet shapes. They are currently opening up for The Legendary
Pink Dots themselves, so check them out.
Tore Honoré Bøe
Tore Bøe's "Knekk" commingles an old glitched tape with a flute on side A, and a
harmonica on side B. The flute is quickly vaporized into a kettle steam whistle wind, with the
jostling approach of frost-dripping giant steps, each footfall fissuring the thin ice. Thankfully,
it never falls through, and in fact elevates, crunching along beautifully with a crystalline drone
ending the side. The harmonica's gurgles join in with some frantic static and distress signals to
build "Knekk" into an ecstatic, glowing whole. A surprise and the standout of the three.
Birchville Cat Motel
Crestfallen b/w Winters Crackling Glory
Killer imports the Kiwi sounds of one Campbell Kneale, aka Birchville Cat Motel, to round this
particular package off, and he does some excellent rub-a-dub-dubbing on both sides. The violin,
harmonium, and glottal "ahs" ripple like waves, washing the hands of one another in a bathtub
not too dissimilar from Giusto Pio's droning tub drain. The water is almost rose-scented, yet
immensely potable. Clean.
"Winters Crackling Glory" squeaks and scrubs at that telltale ceramic bathtub ring, rubbing it
away with an extra-fine metal, making all the pipes groan and gurgle as the mildew and hard tile
just melts away, effortlessly. Definitely getting somewhere from nowhere.
Contact: the Killer label, or:
Tore Honoré Bøe: "Knekk" (Killer 008);
Origami Arktika: "At Røyspytten" (Killer 009);
Birchville Cat Motel: "Crestfallen/Winters Crackling Glory" (Killer 010).
Copyright © 2002 Andy Beta