No Fun Fest 2006 Review (Continued)

Twig Harper was an equally compelling presence, but for entirely different reasons. Always an unpredictable performer, Harper was again haunted by the equipment difficulties that short-circuited his band Nautical Almanac's performance at the first No Fun. This year, he was also burdened by a fire at his Baltimore home and recording space the previous night. But he again managed to turn adversity into a triumph. As he heckled his gear, played records, and emitted a stream of gross burbling vocals through a contact mic, his equipment eventually came back alive, and he played a short set of densely layered electronics. It all ended with an appreciative crowd cheering Twig on, inciting him to give a quick motivational speech that might as well sum up the whole weekend: "Don't ever fucking stop!"

Daniel Menche provided still more spectacle, storming around the stage with a contact mic attached to a long wooden plank, pounding his chest, shouting, fist pumping, and finally ending up dangling from a speaker above the stage. Sonically, it was as interesting as any of Menche's shamanic live performances (in contrast to his much more nuanced studio work), but as a visual show, it was pure silliness. Macronympha, on the other hand, was dead serious, topping its set last year and any possible future sets by anyone in terms of sheer over-the-top chaos. Macro's Joe Roemer, joined by Prurient, Stimbox, Sarah Cathers from 16 Bitch Pile-Up, Prurient's scantily clad girlfriend, and others, created a fierce wall of noise with mic'd metal and electronics, then proceeded to ignore the noise in favor of an all-out brawl/orgy. A few people wound up bloodied, a few wound up nearly naked, and nearly everybody forgot there was music on after ten minutes.

Night three couldn't hope to live up to this wildness, but it did provide many more musical thrills. Prurient was a wonderful surprise, with Dom Fernow switching up his gear and performance style for the first time in a long while. Standing entirely still in black on a blackened stage, Fernow built up a creeping bass drone taut with anticipation, dragging it out until it was nearly unbearable before unleashing reverbed screams and sending high-pitched feedback bursts careening atop the drone. It wound up as physically intensive and cathartic as the usual Prurient sets, but with an entirely new approach.

John Wiese provided an elegant contrast, with his totally motionless stage presence and restrained waves of bass drone and gentle electronic musings gliding up through the murk. His set was an experiment in stasis, his drones absent any sense of anticipation or imminent explosion, instead just exploring the contrast of clicks and sputters against his enveloping bass platform. The duo of Sonic Youth guitarist Thurston Moore with Leslie Keffer was much more outgoing—Moore doing his usual guitar-destruction wankery and Keffer screaming and stage-diving—but the focus was still on sonics, as they delivered a bludgeoning set of compelling noise.

The old hands in Borbetomagus were equally powerful, playing in an earlier slot this year to avoid repeating their 3 a.m. start-time at last year's fest. The jazz-noise trio created a deafening roar of electronic chaos, with individual instruments (two saxes and a guitar) blending in and out of the processed haze. Astromero laid down a cosmic overload jam with former C.C.C.C. member Astro striking rock-star poses with a synthesizer while Speculum Flight's Damion Romero built up a crushing low-end throb wrapping around his companion's spacey swirls and sheets of noise.

None of this addresses the chaos in the basement each night, where three different labels set up a stellar and varied lineup. Dom Fernow's Hospital Records curated the first night, which was heavy on the power electronics with a few surprises thrown in. Grunt and Deathpile delivered heavy sets with their trademark shouted vocals-the latter's set was especially nice, as Hair Police's Mike Connelly provided the rumbling start/stop electronic accompaniment. Fernow also brought in the enigmatic metal trio Bone Awl, whose expectant feedback drones would erupt suddenly into frantic metal explosions.

But it was Bloodyminded who really kicked the spectacle into gear, with singer Mark Solotroff stalking around the stage in leather, looking like he belonged in a Judas Priest video, and delivering rambling song introductions that were longer than the actual songs. The songs were short, fast, brutal, piercing stabs with shouted lyrics and thrashing electronics and everybody, band and audience alike, going wild each time the electronics kicked in for a new song. One band member, holding a synth-like device and only occasionally contributing to the sound, seemed to be there mainly to antagonize the crowd, balance on tables, and lurch, dazed or drugged, around the stage.

The second night, curated by Brutal SFX, was less predictable in terms of style, and highlights included Caroliner side project Spider Compass Good Crime Band, whose jittery bossa-nova noise and goofy bird costumes provided a surrealist opening to the evening. Later, Comets On Fire member Noel Von Harmonson delivered a set of low-key electronic ambiance.

On the final night, Olsen and Connelly built up more of a party vibe in the basement, spinning records between sets and at one point even cultivating a dance party to sped-up reggae grooves. Their lineup started with the sprawling Wolf Eyes/Smegma collaboration The Beast, a lengthy and continually shifting groove that flowed naturally between harsh noise drones and the jammy improv aesthetic of Smegma, with garbled vocals and banging gongs ringing out amid the chaos. Another highlight was Sick Llama's tape-based noise, as he laid down a rumbling, lo-fi muck with just a line of tape recorders, a clarinet, and a single pedal.

In all, this was a stunning and dizzying weekend. Anyone who's been to No Fun has come to expect disorientation, overload, and chaos, and, if anything, this year's fest has set a new high bar. With very few truly disappointing sets and an abundance of great ones, this was a satisfying celebration of sound for its own sake, an entire festival dedicated to opening ears and shoving in raw noise.

Ed Howard
Photos: Bridget Burns (OPC), Pierre Richardson (Deathpile, Daniel Menche)

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