Today, we have a two in one, two releases from PinkSock records: Sauna Kings and Melted Men. So let's go, sweeties.

Sauna Kings - Waiting for the Sun

Waiting for the titties

Pinksock Records is the new label founded by Trztn formerly of Flux Information Sciences and now Services and out of the first two releases comes... yes, you have magical supermindpowers, you guessed it, Trztn's new project, Sauna Kings.
If you read the press release paper or a few documents on PSR's site, you can find such fine, precise descriptions as to how they have released one of the most restless, noisiest electronic albums of the year and things pointing out the supposed noisiness of the recording. Once the object in question is spinning between your ears, you start questioning whether it is the same album you have actually been listening to.
Strikingly this is an extremely groovy, indeed fucked-up and full of little noises, piece of music but the idea of calling it "noisy" doesn't really cross the mind. This is danceable and dislocated at the same time, and thus quite restless, especially considering the opening title track Waiting for the Sun. With its obssessive bassline and loops, it has been compared to TV on the Radio's hooplaMTVsuperclebritymakinghitsingle Staring at the Sun, and there is something of some of TV on the Radio's songs, but it is perhaps most similar to their song the Wrong Way.
What definitely brands the record apart anyhow is the continued impression of a mix of sexuality and threat, an impression most certainly due to Trztn's presence and his rollercoasting tones and which was very present in Flux Information Sciences. Yet here, every little interjection of Trztn's voice seems to scream a brilliant child-like menace more akin to a sort of jump behind your back and yell boo kind of thing. The mix is still unsettling but the menace becomes more playful than anything else, allowing considerable space to accessibility.
This becomes obvious on a track such as Snow and Fire, which is so poppy and playful that it ends up sounding like a better Zita Swoon. Or a carnie disco, depending on what you'd prefer it to be. Most of the rest of the album retains an incredibly insidious, infectious quality, although resting on a certain wistfulness, even the tracks on which FM Einheit appears and where he suprisingly blends in and becomes practically unnoticeable.
In that aspect, when Where to go, the most manic and ruthless track, comes in at the end of the CD, unfolding into existence until digitized shrieks complete it, we find ourselves wanting, as the languid aspect of the record does tend to wear off the attention of the listener in spite of the playfulness that balances it.
For those of you who still find themselves unsure of whether to give this album any attention: there is a young girl on the CD with her nipple peeping out from under bed covers. Perhaps the sun we've been waiting for?
I knew it was all about the naughty.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need a pee.


Right. Sorry.
Hi.

Melted Men - Smoke Alarm Limbo 7"

The Muppets Internationale

The Melted Men are a collective of artists working in an axis between Athens, GA and Europe - predominantly Berlin and Amsterdam - and their specialty is collage. The junction of cultures, sounds, images and concepts, jangling bits and furry surfaces. They have made themselves known through their energetic theatrical performances and a few self-released pieces of joy. Basically they come down like a huge karaoke of phat bass and growling fury, mixed up with some perfectly mad asian undercurrents.
The beautiful little clear 7" is decorated on side A with the picture of a puppet with its ventriloquist who looks eerily like it, and even more eerily like Sharon Osbourne, but that's not the matter at hand - you'll have all the time in the world to have fun with all the little hidden stuff, like the engravings on each side of the vinyl and the such once you know what to expect.
The great thing about the album is the general mess of it, like an old attic full to the brim with all the crap your wacko grandparents didn't judge wise to clean up, and yet, all that crap ties in together and reveals something about how cool they really were, and now they're DEAD, and you CAN'T FUCKING TALK TO THEM ABOUT IT ANYMORE. Man, I oughta stop watching those movies. Somehow it's all tight as hell while being loose like a goose: lots and lots of cowbells and handclaps, some heavy bass, rough vocals and millions of sampling accidents.
Thumbs like a human with its Residentsy voice which turns into threatening growls, singing what pretty much sounds like "He wear a little mask like a raccoon", makes sense through and through for some reason, while After all the smoke clears is purely a recitation of a fast food menu-du-jour over a backdrop of gamelan and jew's harp. The first side ends on Pain Gel, cradling banjoey sounds and a recurring line where the words "sick and tired" might as well be "chicken pie".
In the Melted Men's world, the interlacing samples mingle into unrecognizable words and sounds, crashing more than colliding universes until it's all one joyous nuclear explosion result of mutant humans with chicken fingers.
Side B sends more synthy funks down the lane, with some more Rammellzee-like quacks and growls over the usual cowbells and hard beats.
That's the kind of music that makes you want to throw a party on meth, while sporting costumes made of moldy cardboard and dead raccoons. Only for good people.



Links:
PinkSock Records USA
Sauna Kings
Melted Men
blutiszeit, the Melted Men released their abdominal snowmen on their dead mind records, and they seem very cute.