辛口 (super dry) is half an hour of harsh ouroborosian circuit squeals from Beijing's Sun Yizhou. Building on the haptic noise improvisation of RUIN (Brachliegen Tapes, 2022), Aloe Records head honcho Sun Yizhou returns to Brachliegen with another searing prosthesis of gestural noise electronics.
The tape’s six unnamed tracks are sonically focused. Spawning from a well-worn mixing desk, with no processing or nurturance, the sounds are pure unpatinated tonality...
They are... super dry.
Utilising no-input technique, 辛口 is the sound of the mixer’s corroded wiring fed back into itself to the point of collapse; as the hungry brood of electrons feed on their host, Sun Yizhou tightens the reins and diverts their course toward a funambulism along the precipice.
Textured and harsh, 辛口 starts with sudden interruptives scrabbling like rats though the noise floor, before building into a blowtorch gas-leak of electrical hiss. Feral and fierce, 辛口 intensifies. Morphing into hard stereo whines, frequencies burst like boils and spew their bile into the ear holes of the listener. Manipulated throughout by touch, sound waves joust against each other as bad contacts flare before collapsing into a foul tempered brawl. Throughout 辛口, signals are incessantly squeezed and thrust through the stuttering circuits. At times, they settle into a rhythmic march, but their destination always seems pre-ordained: absolute tonal warfare.
Disclaimer: while the informed consumer may be inclined to draw parallels between a failing British highstreet clothing company and this collection of collapsing no-input noise, this release is in no way related to any such fashion brand past or present. BR039 辛口 (“super dry”), instead, is named for one of the artist's favourite premium lager beers.