Tapes can be purchased through Bandcamp, Discogs or directly through this site. To order through Bandcamp, please go here:
www.shackinthebarleyproductions.bandcamp.com
To order through Discogs (UK-only at present), please go here:
www.discogs.com/seller/goldengonk
To order direct, please contact me at the following address with details of the titles you would like to purchase:
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Dodo Resurrection II – “A Treatise on Ceremonial Magic” (Shack in the Barley Productions, shitbar186)
A1) Elegiac Invocation (8:13)
A2) Nostradamus’ Requiem (9:36)
B1) Rosicrucian Grimoires (Paris, 1620) (9:43)
B2) A Burial of Dodo Bones (8:37)
Your eyes do not deceive you- the mysterious prog-psych unit Dodo Resurrection II are BACK with a new album…four freshly hatched tunes for summer 1973…err, I mean 2023…but enough of my waffle, as a short time back none other than Mr. pStan Batcow of the legendary PUMF Records offered his own thoughts on this occult-rocking offering…
A1 – Elegiac Invocation
Scratchy distorted sounds, cheesewire guitar playing rhythmic sequences reminding us that there were prog rock bands way back when who should have known better…this takes the spirit of those halcyon daze and kicks it firmly into the twenty-first century, rekindling the 60’s fascination with wah-wah pedal cries and Hammond organ extremities.
There are moments when you could easily be convinced that you were listening to an extended jam by a band such as The Doors, hearing Ray Manzarek toodling away on the keyboard, and watching a sea of rapt faces gazing towards the stage through the strobe-light haze, dry-ice fug and polychromatic shimmerings of another groovy light show (maaan). The melodies and progressions shift along nicely, maintaining the interest throughout.
A2 – Nostradamus’ Requiem
Baroque chamber music, anyone? Opening with a seven-beats-to-the-bar phrase gives a nicely unsettled mood, before we shift into a more standard groove, again nodding politely in the direction of our prog rock forebears and showing them just how it should have been done. The overall sound stays nicely uncluttered, leaving the chukka-chuckka guitar wah-ing away in the distance, then breaking down into drones, skittering guitar phrases and voices of sorrow over a single constant bassline. There’s an almost-standard middle eight section featuring keyboards and guitar solo parts, which ultimately dissolves leaving us with multiple voices of sorrow imitating a wolf pack baying at the moon, but oh-so restrainedly…
B1 – Rosicrucian Grimoires (Paris, 1620)
Several instruments play the same musical phrase in unison to set the scene, before breaking down into a bassline-driven territory with squalls of guitar, ethnic drum beats, and wah-wah guitar. There’s an almost playful series of interactions between the various instruments, an improvisational feel that meanders here and there though, again, with enough variety so as to not become repetitive; quieter sections come and go, instruments get left by the wayside, only to re-emerge further along the journey (and, in places, almost rushing in their attempts to catch up). This piece seems to have less direction that the preceding two, but that’s no criticism, and the inexplicable ending – completely separated from the main body of the song – takes the form of rhythmic sounds that could have been lifted directly from the album “Eskimo” by The Residents.
B2 – A Burial of Dodo Bones
Back again into prog rock territory, though with an overall sound vastly different to that of the 1970s dinosaurs associated with the genre – this is a dirty, scuzzy melee, light-years distant, which could be soundtracking the invasion of hordes of intergalactic creatures, marching in formation with their insect-like legs stomping in time with the music, their antennae waving along with the melodies, Earthmen cowering on their knees before the mighty force of the invaders. Returning phrases and repetition are used well throughout, maintaining a sense of the familiar whilst moving the piece forwards.
Red C40 cassette in a clear case with full colour artwork, plus two inserts.
The entire release can be streamed here…
Psyched by the 4D Gonk – “Shriek at a Serpent + Tarantula Crap” (Shack in the Barley Productions, shitbar187)
A) Shriek at a Serpent (19:46)
B1) Tarantula Crap (Part One) (9:35)
B2) Tarantula Crap (Part Two) (10:08)
A couple of years in the making, I’m pleased and relieved to finally release these sides of droning minimalist lo-fi industrial noise gunk from whence they’d been hiding, as it’d really started to stink in there…
A big thanks to Black Wolf Piss for the source sounds and also to pStan again for providing the following commentary…
Recommended for insomnia sufferers, or for those wishing to suffer from insomnia.
A – Shriek at a Serpent
This lengthy piece opens with a discussion between a child and a parent disturbed about the free-running of creepy-crawlies (most likely, serpents) throughout the house. It quickly descends into free-form noise, likewise disturbing. There’s an interesting collection of sounds intermingling to create a multi-frequency sonic barrage, seeming to shift and twist just like that serpent, with sounds disappearing from the soundscape whilst new ones appear, in an abstract cyclic manner. Quarter of the way through there is a change, with many of the established sounds falling away as random rhythm is created from an assemblage of percussive sounds, bringing to mind the effect which might be produced by a giant serpent picking up a kitchen in its mouth and shaking it, faster and faster…about half-way through, the percussive sounds disappear and a similar feel to the first quarter of the piece is reinstated; burbling, meandering squeals, organic drones, staccato pulses and more burblings. It’s a disconcerting effect. I anticipate another mood shift at around the three-quarter mark, and am confounded by it being somewhat later than I expect – but it arrives, and now we hear what could be the anguished squeal / yell of the parent come face-to-face with the beast, a short phrase looped and repeating, until it drifts into the distance to be replaced with another short repeating two-note phrase, which in turn retreats and leaves less definition to the loop, a blended series of sounds ground into rhythmic mush…and it concludes, serpent phobia soundly reinforced.
B1 – Tarantula Crap (Part One)
This begins almost where the serpent left off, with droning noises accompanied by rhythmic loops building and fading in slow succession, a framework across which to lay a menagerie of melodic notes, eruptions of static, thrumming pulses, scattergun bursts…the effect is almost that of being immersed in an underwater torture vessel, something akin to the mediaeval Iron Maiden, though one which has been fitted out with soft cushions and hot-water bottles, blunted spikes giving a pressure-point massage – though possibly a massage received under duress. The sounds continue evolving, and we’re presented with a series of ‘struck’ sounds, a bell of surreality chiming through one’s soul, and we loop onwards to oblivion, which (as it turns out) comes with a fade.
B2 – Tarantula Crap (Part Two)
The sound of what might be muted gunfire creates a short rhythm loop, and warbling sounds descend to ride roughshod overall…the mood has already been set with Tarantula Crap (Part One) and the piece develops as established with loops rising then fading out as new ones take over. Is there more of a background drone in evidence here? It certainly seems so – early in the piece more of the layered sounds disappear that we have been used to so far, and we are left with a single combined sound playing a single note, rising in volume within each loop, which seems to set the scene for subsequent changes, with the piece remaining more sparse. Twittering electronic sounds run almost subliminally throughout the background as the piece is moved forwards by further sparse loops, gradually becoming more layered again with droning mechanical, almost factory-like noise becoming dominant. As we progress towards a conclusion, we could almost be in the generic modern factory from which all products issue, hearing a collected soundtrack of the machines which supply society – and as we’re all swamped in the helltide of consumer goods, the final fade is produced by our heads going under.
Purple C40 cassette in a clear case with full colour artwork and tape label, plus an insert
For all your streaming requirements, please click on this handy embedded player…
L’arbre nu / Robert Horton – “Faux mouvement Vol. 2 : Bassabura / Transition” (Shack in the Barley Productions, shitbar188)
L’arbre nu – “Faux mouvement Vol. 2 : Bassabura”
A1) Intro : Baguettes et cordes (2:00)
A2) Foxglove Memories (3:12)
A3) À 6 mains (1:01)
A4) Droosy Ghosts (3:44)
A5) Morning’s Garden Raga (4:31)
A6) Inextricable accordage (3:22)
A7) Where Your Feet Don’t Feel the Earth…. (4:37)
Robert Horton – “Transition”
B1) Anklung (3:08)
B2) Breaks to the Out (9:11)
B3) The Instability Sea (5:37)
B4) Ligeti Quark Ascension (3:56)
For this- the final cassette to be published through Shack in the Barley Productions- I am delighted to present these two distinct sides of music. The A-side is home to a beguiling suite from France’s L’arbre nu, its psychedelic sitar-ish sonorities mostly produced by the Bassabura, a unique stringed instrument, hand-made by Guy-Pierre himself, whilst over on the B-side, none other than US legend Robert Horton returns after his successful turn on one of Shack’s 2020 4-way split tapes, with a quartet of beautifully restless minimalist gems plucked from his seemingly endless wellspring of creative energy.
Many thanks to Guy-Pierre and Robert for allowing me to release their sounds!
Green C46 cassette in a clear case with full colour artwork (several different designs were produced, so please note that your copy may differ from the image above), plus an insert.
Hand-numbered edition of 30 copies.
Good grief! These pieces are ALSO available for ultra high-tech streaming purposes…
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* TWO MORE RELEASES ADDED TO SHACK IN THE BARLEY PRODUCTIONS’ BANDCAMP SITE *
Like all of the above wasn’t enough, these digital-only delights have also recently been added to Bandcamp!
First-time full digital issue for this mini-album of melancholic and deeply relaxing synthwave/ambient music, originally released in 2015.
One of the more popular titles from Shack in the Barley Productions, “Gator Cruise to Infinity” managed to sell out of both its limited cassette issues and has consequently been unavailable for a few years, so it’s nice to put it back out there for more people to hear.
Established in 2013, 14 Graves of Interest is a project influenced solely by particular trash/exploitation/horror films from the 1970s and ’80s- their atmospheres, imagery, dialogue and music.
“16 Pieces of Disturbance” is a comprehensive collection of sinister horror synth/dark ambient/noise collage works, mostly taken from out-of-print cassettes released between 2014 and 2020, but also including one previously unreleased piece.
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Many thanks if you decide to check out any of these latest releases- it truly means a lot.
As I’ve mentioned previously, after nearly 20 years of activity, I’m winding things down here at Shack in the Barley HQ, but we’re not *quite* done yet! Please keep your eyes peeled for a final batch of releases, including a very special digital compilation for Bandcamp, positively BURSTING with fine underground talent!
The Golden Gonk 