†††Best known for his seminal work as a founding member of the monstrous UK noise rock outfit Skullflower, Jaworzyn is one of the key players in the UK extreme music underground of the 80s and 90s, also doing a brief stint with power electronics pioneers Whitehouse as well as performing with the free-improv duo Ascension, and running the amazing avant-rock imprint Shock. Little had been heard musically from Jaworzyn since the mid 90s though, but he suddenly popped up in the past year or so, returning with a vengeance as he's resurrected the Shock label and exuded a number of LPs that range from ancient unreleased recordings to brand new noise experiments.
††† Drained of Connotation is one of the former, a loose collection of long-lost solo material that Jaworzyn recorded back in 1982 prior to his stints in the aforementioned bands, featuring material that had recently resurfaced on a cassette tape while Jaworzyn was combing his tape archives for rare Skullflower material for his recent KINO series of reissues. Using only a Dr Rhythm drum machine and a primitive Korg synthesizer, Jaworzyn sculpted spare, sinister drones and malignant pulses into a series of crude industrial noise pieces powered by the almost static rhythms of the drum machine, which he allows to loop endlessly, primitive pulses that undergo only the most subtle of changes in tempo or tone as each track threads its way to oblivion. There's a similar charred, monotonous vibe as Maurizio Bianchi's early 80s output in these early recordings, with "Sinister Eroticism In Oslo" in particular taking on an ominous, almost ritualistic vibe as putrid vermiform laserblasts squiggle and swarm overhead, immediately casting the record in a grimy grey light as that track stretches across almost the entire first side before moving into the juddering, static-blinded hypnosis of "The Nightclub Toilet", a clot of harsh Merzbowian electronics and granular distortion sweeping across the feverish, mechanical drum-loop, transforming into a frigid krautrock-esque pulse that Jaworzyn drives all the way into oblivion. The other side follows suit, unleashing more of those monochrome oscillations over an obsessive, almost militaristic rhythmic throb that just doesn't relent, radiating cancerous pulses through a metallic haze of malfunctioning synth. Limited to seven hundred copies.