CRUD

The tenth accredited release for DWM, CRuD, is a short, mini-album. Clocking only a couple minutes' shy of 30, and I can't say I wish it were longer. The album name is in reference to Mr. Raimond's place of work at the time, CRD, and as depicted in the artwork, the main CRD offices were formerly a prison. There's also an abstract, engorged penis, something not unusual for DWM cover art. Some fast and crude googling doesn't reveal what CRD was or is an abbreviation of, I'm guessing Joseph wasn't fond of his workplace though. Unfortunately, the asshole in me thinks the name could be in reference to the music contained on this cassette. This release sees DWM in a bit of a No- Wave, Punk, Noise Rock, Synth Pop mode; with some poetry and free improvisation to round things off.

We start this cassette with aforementioned poetry, a condemnation of Christian hypocrisy and maybe a bit of urban/suburbia malaise towards the end. A snippet "I run screaming down the aisles of church while the true innocents are slaughtered in the wringing (? hard to make the words out at times) of their virgin hands / Preached double standards emphasize lusty glares (? Idk if that's correct again) / Bending words to explain their perversion / Minorities disagree and loud-mouths are placed in asylums". Wait this was written back in the 80s and not recently? No Survival For Research is the first song proper, an incredibly forgettable mid paced little jaunt with annoying clack-y, electronically treated drums, annoying rubbery strummed guitar, and annoying noisy/static-y guitar. Bass is okay. It's like a half formed attempt at a Shoegaze song. Breasts And Ass Blood continues with the same awful aesthete, only a bit longer, maybe a bit doomier. Noisy, drunkenly swerving guitar riffing and soloing carries this song to the drunk tank finish line. Is that what bro is on about on the cover actually? OD From Industry (yeah I think Mr. Raimond is not fond of the nine to five grind) is a change of scenery from everything before, a tad more interesting. Shrill and sharp synth lines are layered and layered, morphing into a white hot sheet of screeching tinnitus, odd treated and robotic vocal snippets peak through, all the while an incredibly nervous bass line constantly thumps in the background. Random tinklings of piano like a drunk person uncontrollably relieving themselves all over. Castalian Remix (DWM have a song on Transistors & Chips / E-Lok 1111 various artist compilation called Castalia, I'm guessing this is a remix of) is more my style, despite having many of the hallmarks of previous songs. We've moved a bit into Industrial/Synth Pop/EBM territory, those cheap, klanky drums sped up and even more distorted, reverbed vocals mashed and thrown around, blaring, droning and moaning synths, and that noisy, screeching and soloing guitar. Really this is a beautiful mess of hideous sounds.

B side starts with the longest song on the album, Little Girls With Leprosy, a total jump into the morass of free improvisation. Someone atonally smashing away at a piano, while some taut wires or some such are scrapped and plucked, and an onslaught of chiming bells. Things take a turn into more interesting territory once the piano subsides, as we enter into some tape manipulation and looping experiments, full on Musique Concrète. All manner of clicks, whirs and who knows what are processed while the bells eventually calm down. This turns into a distorted cacophony of various whistling sounds, a demented symphony of songbirds, slowly progressing and processed into a rough noisy oblivion of whirring static. This all comes full circle with the scrapped/plucked strings, bells, and someone attacking the piano again. We end with a short, noisy, reverbed, and blown out psychedelic exercise of lazy, floating guitar and sequenced synth, not allowed to stretch its legs enough before unceremoniously getting cut off. A little blip in this bands huge discography, and mostly stuff that can be found done more interesting elsewhere IMO.