When it comes to the Japanese harsh noise underground, K2 reigns as one of the field's most ferocious sound-destroyers, forging a brutal "junk noise" aesthetic that employs spastic sound editing, psychedelic electronics and chaos strategies to create immensely abrasive and cathartic blasts of extreme noise-art. I'm such a big fan of K2 (aka Kimihide Kusafuka, who by day works as a cancer pathologist) and the brand of harsh noise that he's been perfecting since 1983 that we trawled his catalog for his most merciless recordings, and have come up with a stack of old and new releases that are all recommended listening for fans of maximum sonic chaos.
K2's sonic chaos-collage is pretty much the ultimate in Dada-inspired, ADD-afflicted "junk noise", a term that this project has embraced from the beginning. And if there's one newer K2 album that visually embodies the feeling one gets when subjecting yourself to his brutal barrage of noise, it might well be 2013's Musik Fur Enthauptung (Music For Beheading). Issued on Polish label Impulsy Stetoskopu, this disc comes in one of the stranger packaging designs I've come across, presented in a standard plastic jewel case, but with all of the printed parts printed onto an aluminum foil like material, making this look and feel like an industrial by-product. Sonically, it's essentially the same sort of cut-up ultra-chaos we've always gotten from K2, that signature hyper-violent noise collage style producing an avalanche of spastic, abrasive, horrific noise culled from samples, instruments, and electronics, stitched together into sprawling, long-form blasts of sound. A confusion of shrieking tape garble and screaming feedback, tortured synthesizer noise and volleys of hyperspeed glitch-chaos, violently mutated video-game soundtracks and fragments of orphaned piano melody. Using his electronic "Feedback System" alongside piano, violin, synthesizer, electric guitar, and vocals, he warps and shreds his sound sources into unrecognizable new forms, the sounds assembled into constantly, rapidly changing noisescapes that leave any and all source materials utterly unrecognizable, stretched into bizarre, confusional cacophonies that on several of these tracks can stretch out for more than thirteen minutes at a time. Vaguely rhythmic sounds dip in and out of these noisescapes, blasts of almost technoid throb or clanking, hypnotic loops, but they tend to disappear quickly back into the maelstrom.
If you're a fan of K2's unique brand of violent psychedelic gibberish, rest assured that this is one of his most crazed albums from the past decade; a nightmare of hallucinatory glitch-puke and digital data vomit, anyone into the harsher end of the Japanese experimental electronics underground definitely needs to at least check K2's material out, and this one is a good place to start if you're looking for pure cacophonic bliss.
Released in a limited edition of one hundred copies.