Massimo & Pierce
Musick for Porn Volume 1
ANARCDR
2005
B-



stepping outside of their increasingly well-regarded Black Sun Productions collective moniker, this soundtrack release (credited to both Massimo and Pierce, although only the latter composed and performed the tracks) sees its mainstays providing an audio soundtrack to their own underground porn video releases.

Those expecting the commonplace mainstream sex soundtrack style of Isaac Hayes/Barry White and excessive wah-wah use will be sorely disappointed as this is a much less conventional and darker musical affair. There won’t be many stories about children being conceived to Musick for Porn Volume 1 during a suburban Wednesday night on the couch. I wouldn’t profess to be any kind of expert on the deepest, dankest, gay fetish clubs in Europe, but this sounds like exactly the type of music that soundtracks the escapades in the “members-only” cellar under splattered neon.

Pierce finds a musical crossroads somewhere between sex magick, hardcore gay porn, and the Isolationist underground, creating a sinister, subdued, and dislocated techno soundtrack. The introductory “Baby Got a Mohawk Part 1,” with its sludge and drip sounds is the closest that the album gets to a stereotypically sexy sound palette. The deep, slowed vocal hook of the title and grinding-hip bass give it the hooks to hang visuals on where most of the songs are less explicit.

Even if the songs were removed of their sexual context and titles, they would still be in an eddy of circular, throbbing darkness. Even the bursts of energy pulses and digital liquid sounds never lift the tracks out of the shadows, as melodic keyboard lines are submerged and edited down in the uncomfortable darkness. It’s an album soaked in tension that bubbles faintly into the speakers through a few inches of jackboot heel and bodily fluid.

A deeply sinister atmosphere pervades “Anal Kaleidoscope,” becoming half field recording/half electronic nightmare, as solitary finger clicks echoing off into awkward intermittent rhythms and powerful, out-of-the-blue claps. The feeling of being in the same room as the sexual players but blinded and unaware of what is actually happening is a disconcerting experience. “Rectum Amatissimum” attempts to echo this ambience, sounding like the imprints of an earlier lost recording now erased and enveloped, kept distant through an intentional remoteness. Keeping the beat for the boys are both the understated tribal/industrial thump of “Wanking the Dream Into Existence” and the steadier rhythmic piece “Fuck the Matter,” which ends in a battering climax and struggling engine groans.

While their visual work leaves little to the imagination, this album leaves dark holes and insinuating thoughts behind it. Despite soundtracking the acts of a loving couple, this is an insular, brutal, and moody listen.


Reviewed by: Scott McKeating
Reviewed on: 2005-12-23
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