Change characterizes life, though it doesn't often come with the best terms. Craig Manga/Mangabros' "change", under the clever, modified label, Modwump (remember "Naked Lunch'"s Mugwumps?), is one of those grand, inspiring exceptions.
Modwump's two-part journey, Animal Bitrate, is bizarre as hell. Much of the electronic mix is abetted by toy instruments and broken drum machines; and that's just part of what makes the ride so emotionally evolving.
As a vast, electronic extension, Animal Bitrate injects cynical, science-fiction concerns into one's brain. Even more so, with each and every connecting chunk and subliminal call, it digs bit by bit into the subconscious, scraping and digging up solemn thoughts and sparking them with wild energy. (If the truth be known, Marcel Prevaritura's cover artwork, which kicks off this post, is an apt representation of Animal Birtate's topsy-turvy flow. The artist's illustration, featured after the initial paragraph, conveys the tracks' tricky demeanor, as well: impetuous on the surface, but upon scrutiny, damn meaningful: case in point, the contained "Hunt the Child Catcher" game. Quite clever...)
Modwump's commences its epic experiment with a pounding, industrialized welcome: creepy in its circuitry, but vigorous enough to make one's fingers snap. However, it doesn't take long before it gets rougher, the sounds careening into those gruff, Mangabros growls we've come to appreciate. These provoking notes morph into a bullying blast that no one (with any sincere trace of mettle) could ever evade, and as such, one must engage in the bestial brawl presented.
As this gargled stream touches its haughty, halfway mark, one recalls the mighty Mad Max, though not so much in road-warrior mode, but rather a version thrust into a perilous enclosure that makes Thunderdome look tame.
This afflicting spree can't help but tucker one out, and from there, the dial turns, stumbling upon something akin to "Logan's Run": a theremin trek through a flashy, love-making tunnel, where every synthetic vulgarity flies in one's face. In its specialized, wayward form, the tick-tocking feeling is nice: the fornicating allusions creating a thick, sweaty taste.
When the ecstasy subsides (and a thing this intensely sublime can't help but do so), a gear-sprung coolness ascends, but who we kiddin'? That ol' seediness permeates. In fact, its portions have only grown more anxious with the album's progression: It's "Escape from New York" time, with a mutinous mission implanted straight into one's neck, but for what finite purpose, what infinite plan?
Banging trash cans and squealing vermin determine one's steps. Wailing hints of crazed Hendrix, of "A Clockwork Orange", of pinned-open eyes and slithering tears define one's lot in life. One has crossed into a new, mental dimension: stung, stark and masochistic.
This new niche blossoms further within its final-phase thumps, burps and bleeps. One might as well possess metal instead of bone, steel instead of flesh. Hell is Heaven, in a capsized chamber where one's thoughts are no longer one's own. But then, without one's personalized fuel, the reverie wouldn't be what it is.
In other words, Modwump's Animal Bitrate can summon uniqueness, even when one is controlled.
Engage Modwump's weird, bit-by-bit transfusion at ... https://submarinebroadcastingco.bandcamp.com/.
You stood tall, strong and furry as the mighty and lovable Chewbacca, accentuating the "Star Wars" franchise during its heyday and greeting appreciative fans along the decades-spanning way.
That appreciation was reciprocal and visited varied venues, such as "The Muppet Show"; "Slice of SciFi"; "Donny and Marie"; "Dark Towers"; "The Kenny Everett Television Show"; "Identity"; and "Glee".
You also found your way into the '78 horror film, "Terror" and the offbeat fantasy, "Yesterday Was a Lie"; and shared your talents with "Dragon Ball G.T." and Mark Hamill's wry mockumentary, "Comic Book: the Movie". However, to Ray Harryhausen fans, you're best and most admired for your stand-in work as the illustrious Minoton in "Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger".
With that said, it wasn't only on the screen where you excelled, Mr. Mayhew. Your children's books, "Growing Up Giant" and "My Favorite Giant", have taught young readers to hold their heads high and relish the fact that being unique is a pretty darn neat.
You'll always be as a giant of pop-cultural and galactic stature: a historic, iconic figure whose aura will continue to inspire, even though your noble spirit has moved on...
"King Kong vs Godzilla" was a box-office smash, not only in Japan, but abroad. (It still stands as the all-time, Toho/kaiju earner.) A direct, shoe-in sequel to the titanic clash was proposed, but Toho (per trailblazing producer Tomoyuki Tanaka) picked a different path.
As such, Mothra (and her offspring) challenged the studio's homespun "dragon", in what became "Mothra vs Godzilla" or "Godzilla vs the Thing", as it was better known in the U.S. (thanks to American International Pictures), with other title variations surfacing around the globe. (Later, it was released on Paramount VHS as "Godzilla vs Mothra".)
I must confess, I was a trifle disappointed when I first viewed the 1964, Ishiro Honda directorial effort, in that I had anticipated a super-morphed version of James Arness' "The Thing (from Another World)". Mothra's name recognition beyond Japan wasn't as strong at this point, which is why an air of mystery enshrouded her.
Though I found Mothra (Mosura) interesting, she was my least favorite of Toho's A-listers. I fancied Rodan (Ladon) and Ghidrah (Ghidorah) more. Also, since I was viewing the Toho flicks out of sequence on UHF, my loyalty to the mighty moth was stunted due to no fault of her own. Be that as it may...
Per Shinichi Sekisawa's script, Godzilla is much meaner in his fourth, headlining outing, and that's saying a lot since he was far from Mr. Congeniality in the earlier chapters.
Disgruntled by his defeat to Kong, Godzilla appears determined to pounce Mothra/the Thing (who goes by both names in the dubbed version) for a presumed, easy win. If Mothra's washed-ashore egg just so happens to get smashed along the way, so be it. However, much to Godzilla's dismay, the ailing Mothra fights with unsurpassed vigor to protect her confined twins.
Mothra's egg also impact's the film's make-a-buck subplot: similar to the prior chapter's, which in its own right springs from "King Kong '33" and "Mighty Joe Young '49".
To thwart the business men who wish to exploit the uncanny formation, the miniature, guardian ambassadors of Infant Island (dubbed Mothra Island) intervene: The fairies are portrayed by Emi and Yumi Ito, who were better known as the Peanuts on Japan's nightclub circuit and held a significant role in the first Mothra movie. They sing (pray) in a most melodious manner to Mothra and her soon-to-be-hatched larvae to halt Godzilla.
Beyond its ultra-small/ultra-big performers, the film features an all-star Toho cast, with Hiroshi Koizumi as Professor Shunsuki Miura; the lovely Yuriko Hoshi as novice photographer Nakanishi Junko; Akira Takarada as reporter Ichiro Sakai; Yu Fujiki as reporter Jiro Nakamura; Jun Tazaki as editor-in-chief Marata; Yoshifumi Tajima as the Denham-seque Kumayama of Happy Enterprises; and Kenji Shara as the unscrupulous Jiro Torahata.
Hajimi Koizumi's cinematography is the most striking of any Toho production; and Akira Ifukube's iconic score complements Honda's direction to a tee, particularly during the film's ferocious, final frames, when Mothra's incensed children back the big, green one into a sticky situation (to say the least).
The film has never waned in popularity and was remade in '92 to huge fanfare. Even so, for sentimental reasons, the original remains favored and clinched a long line of Toho crossovers, which marched in respectful step to Universal's monster rallies.
Even if one doesn't consider "Godzilla vs the Thing" a classic (though how could one not?), there's no denying the epic's refreshing, rock 'em, sock 'em execution.
They sure as hell don't make 'em like this anymore; so toss that PC junk out the door, and let old-school, fight-to-the-death Godzilla and Mothra show ya how it's done.
Hear ye, Hear ye!!!
Chris Rawding has finished the "Persona, Vol 2: Green-Fleshed Fiends" cover. Alas, I'm not allowed to share the image prior to the novel's release, but believe me, it's amazing!!!
Kevin Broden has four more illustrations to go. He just completed a lab pic, which combines components of Aurora's Monster Scenes with PRC's "The Devil Bat": just as I envisioned the locale in my sequel. Cool, man, cool!!
Ron Fortier has also informed me (and the Airship 27 podcast audience) that my novel is one of the next up in the production queue. Awright!!!
Keep checking "bizarrechats" for news, but for now, here's another fetching photo of sweet Stacey Standish to keep you faithful folks content. Okay, it's Jean Harlow, but you get the drift.
To commemorate Batman's 80th birthday, and to mark the 30th anniversary release of Tim Burton's "Batman", DC and WB are relaunching the blockbuster and its sequels to theaters.
Tim Burton's pop-sensation, starring Michael Keaton in the eponymous role, hits theaters for a May 4 in a one-night-only event.
This is followed by Burton's "Batman Returns" (again with Keaton) on May 6, followed by Joel Schumacher's "Batman Forever" (with Val Kilmer in the lead, accompanied by Chris O'Donnell as Robin) on May 12 and "Batman and Robin" (with George Clooney and O'Donnell") on May 14.
The latter, which dared to recapture the panache of "Batman '66", was a polarizing entry, but its controversy led to Christopher Nolan/Christian Bale's acclaimed "Dark Knight" trilogy: nothin' to sneeze at.
Revisit the Caped Crusader quartet this month: one of the most influential superhero stretches in cinema history. (Disc re-releases of all four films are also available for consumption.)
L+Esistenze is the latest release by Petrolio, a project of Italian composer/musician Enrico Cerrato, a man fueled by experiences in metal, punk, jazz and industrial thrust, who enjoys teaming with those of his versatile kind.
With L+Esistenze, Cerrato and his collaborators compose a fever dream of the highest degree. One could liken their mechanical cranks and cutting cries to a maddening injection. What adds to their specialty is twofold: The tracks exist on vinyl and cassette, but the selections for each are different yet linked.
For the sake of L+Esistenze's vinyl edition, the commanding psychedelia starts with "Ne Tuer Pas Les Anges" (w/ collaborator Aidan Baker): coddling, divine, groovy...and damn dangerous.
The festering agitation carries over in "S La Maladie Connue" (w/ Sigillum S), which invokes heartbreaking, workplace lament: a necessary disease you never desired but must digest. (Yeah, you swallowed the pill to cope with the day, but now there's a sharper edge to it, and it won't go away.)
Confusion follows, as demonstrated by "Scindere Les Animes" (w/ Jochen Arbeit): You wrestle with your cognition, but it shatters among a barrage of pinging notes that allude to trickling water fighting flickering flame. The contradiction is overwhelming, and your gusto fades.
You have to get a grip, and from out the bungling desperation, you fashion "Fish Fetish" (w/ MaiMaiMai): an interlude that's soft and sugary, but in the end, fraudulent and fierce. Its betrayal prompts you to flee your money-making scheme and crawl into some cold, soiled hideaway.
Maybe (you hope beyond hope) there's finally time to rest, but per "L_Eterno Non...Er Sempre" (w/ Fabrizio Modonese Palumbo), you find yourself teetering between Heaven and Hell...life and death. Which is better? Do you even care?
With your surrender confirmed, "Ceralacca Seta" (w/ Naresh Ran) deposits you into the woodwork and concrete. All the while, a waxy voice beckons, but you're wary of its intent. Is it there to reassure or mock?
Again, no matter. The journey is over, your soul now balances upon the eternal crest of fruitless cowardice...
The audio-cassette edition extends the vinyl's vantage. One might consider it a sequel or prequel, but its entries seem more like inserts (expressive buffers) to the aforementioned tracks.
For example, if "S La Maladie Connue" covers workplace lament, then "Helig Van Blut" (w/ Baker) is its unsettling addendum: a "Texas Chainsaw" reverie raised to holy stature, where a smile is required before being hoisted and hooked.
As companion pieces to "Scindere Les Animes" and "L Eterno Non...Er Sempre", the petulant "Pergringos de Almos" (w/ Sellium) suggests frantic escape, but "Wood and the Leaf" (w/ Arbeit) and "Cut the Moon" (w/ MaiMaiMai) only magnify the inherent ebbs and flows that distinguish any hallucination: without question, ideal accompaniment for "Fish Fetish".
To complement "Ceralacca Seta", the tracks, "Ojos Eyes and L_Ecoute" (w/ Palumbo) and "Vuoto A Perdre" (w/ N Ran) signal the aftermath of any imprudent act: After the dust clears, there's only self-imposed self-degradation. So fruitless, so sad...
Either edition of L+Esistenze will leave an indelible mark on any listener. However, experiencing these epics back to back could bend a mindset forever: a dangerous dynamic perhaps, but precisely the thing that differentiates Cerrato's collaborative genius and the wicked way Petrolio plays.
Sail the experimental waves at
https://soundcloud.com/petrolio-246047815/sets/l-esistenza/s-guffb.
