Noisecore Freak - _Corner Itch Theory_
(Deadsix Communications, 2003)
by: T. DePalma (4 out of 10)
With the hollow pulse of a mechanized heartbeat, _Corner Itch theory_ begins its transmission of seventeen tracks that constantly re-introduce a hammer and flesh approach that pulverizes the very idea of traditional structure. Combining the all-inclusiveness of industrial music with grindcore minimalism, Noisecore Freak packs as much sound and story as possible within epileptic tracks that are spat out like as much distortion from a broken television box. Ironically, one has to have a certain patience for this sort of thing. The short tracks (mostly ranging from forty seconds to over a minute) leave little to grasp by themselves and seem to drastically switch gears at those moments where the brief stability of rhythm becomes attractive, leaving the listener drowning in a sea of chaotic motion which also enables the album to be viewed as a single flowing concept.A digital bank of extensive sampling, keyboards and an electric screwdriver are paired with the conventional ensemble of guitar, bass and drums conducted by the project's solo pilot, Chris Stepniewski; an abstract recipe that involves mixing often cinematically (or video game influenced) dreamlike interludes with punkish, though coldly metallic riffs to form the core (loosely) of Noisecore Freak's sound. The guitars on "Wall Mannequin", "Harsh Bedwire" and "Stitch Collar Radio" particularly seem to have a more "classic" grind influence (Napalm Death's _Scum_) manifested in style as well as the rough but not muddy production. The number of tempo changes here are incalculable (at times defined wholly by the pace of the samples), though track eleven offers a break, slowing things abruptly as well as shaving the layers down to a lulling atmosphere of clean guitar strumming along ocean waves.Stepniewski's vocals are uniquely abrasive: a language of sharp pitches that split through the air like a swift knife or whip, verbalizing stream of consciousness lyrics like the following: "...Bring ch'ching don't blink turn me on you stink mommy doll torn ragged daddy faggot shiny metal finger..." Whether this absurdist poetry is sly parody or immature cut-up is open to debate, and though the technique is a theoretically perfect match with music, I prefer to take in this album with the booklet closed.Often confusing and indulgent, there is an admirable quality to the inventiveness of this static architecture, but also much that is silly. Like the sediment thoughts from a psychic cathode, _Corner Itch Theory_ attempts all possibilities in search of innovation, finding a small handful of interesting movements amidst the studio wankery.
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