Album:
      The
      Shape
      of
      Punk
      to
      Come
     
     
      Artist:
      Refused
     
     
      Label:
      Burning
      Heart
      Records.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      “I’ve
      got
      a
      bone
      to
      pick
      with
     
     
      capitalism
      ...
      and
      a
      few
      to
      break!”
      How
     
     
      could
      anyone
      not
      like
      a
      band
      who
     
     
      kicks
      off
      an
      album
      with
      a
      line
      like
     
     
      that?
      Unfortunately,
      I
      am
      totally
      unin-
     
     
      formed
      about
      the
      band’s
      history,
      polit-
     
     
      ical
      influences,
      and
      too
      superficially
     
     
      judgmental
      to
      give
      their
      album
      a
      good
     
     
      listen
      before
      forming
      an
      opinion
      on
      it.
     
     
      And
      that’s
      exactly
      where
      I
      stood
      when
     
     
      I
      first
      encountered
      this
      album.
      My
      ini-
     
     
      tial
      reaction
      was
      “The
      Shape
      of
      Punk
     
     
      to
      Come?
      Who
      are
      these
      pretentious
     
     
      jerks
      that
      I
      have
      never
      heard
      of,
      mak-
     
     
      ing
      such
      an
      audacious
      claim
      about
      the
     
     
      future
      condition
      of
      punk
      rock?
      Well,
      I
     
     
      never.”
      And
      that’s
      basically
      what
      I
     
     
      operated
      on
      for
      about
      a
      year
      and
      a
      half,
     
     
      before,
      after
      repeated
      urgings
      from
     
     
      associates
      in
      whose
      musical
      tastes
      I
     
     
      otherwise
      had
      quite
      sufficient
      faith;
      I
     
     
      sat
      down
      and
      gave
      this
      CD
      a
      serious
     
     
      listen.
      Now,
      after
      firsthand
      experience
     
     
      (instead
      of
      the
      unfounded
      conjecture
     
     
      which
      I
      still
      hold
      oh
      so
      dear)
      I
      have
      to
     
     
      say
      that,
      damn,
      this
      is
      a
      damn
      good
     
     
      album.
      Hot
      damn,
      even.
     
    

    
     
      If
      this
      is
      indeed
      the
      shape
      of
     
     
      punk
      to
      come,
      bring
      it
      on,
      cos
      this
      is
     
     
      exactly
      what
      the
      stagnated,
      formulaic
     
     
      quagmire
      that
      “punk”
      has
      become
     
     
      needs
      right
      now.
      Unfortunately
      for,
     
     
      well,
      everybody,
      it’s
      taken
      several
     
     
      years
      for
      me
      to
      get
      around
      to
      review-
     
     
      ing
      this
      album,
      and
      history
      tells
      us
      that
     
     
      to
      a
      great
      degree
      it
      sank
      as
      a
      threat
      to
     
     
      the
      decaying
      juggernaut
      of
      this
      so-
     
     
      called
      “countercultural”
      ©
      musical
     
     
      genre.
      Not
      that
      Refused
      didn’t
      make
     
     
      waves
      with
      this
      album
      (which
      received
     
     
      much
      wider
      distribution
      than
      any
      of
     
     
      their
      previous,
      more
      traditional
      offer-
     
     
      ings),
      but
      pretty
      much
      anyone
      who
     
     
      took
      notice
      was
      most
      likely
      predis-
     
     
      posed
      to
      hear
      the
      wakeup
      call
      these
     
     
      kids
      were
      trying
      to
      issue
      forth.
     
    

    
     
      While
      this
      album
      definitely
     
     
      still
      falls
      within
      the
      purview
      of
      hard-
     
    
   
   
    
     
      l1Al
     
    
   
   
    
     
      yesuey
      pully
     
    
   
   
    
     
      core,
      it
      stretches,
      contests,
      and
      plays
     
     
      with
      the
      boundaries
      of
      the
      genre,
     
     
      incorporating
      heavy
      rock
      and
      jazz
     
     
      influences,
      even
      lapsing
      occasionally
     
     
      into
      bouts
      of
      techno,
      and
      taking
      some
     
     
      serious
      nods
      from
      the
      folk-music
      as
     
     
      protest
      tradition.
      Lyrically
      (and
      even
     
     
      musically,
      one
      could
      argue)
      they
      are
      an
     
     
      uncompromisingly
      political
      band,
      and
     
     
      follow
      in
      the
      tradition
      of
      heavily
      aes-
     
    
   
   
    
     
      theticized
      intellectual
      social
      criticism.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      and
      romanticized
      revolution
      of
      the
     
     
      Paris
      student
      revolt
      of
      ‘68.
      These
      kids
     
     
      are
      heavy
      into
      their
      situationist
      rheto-
     
     
      ric
      and
      neo-marxian
      theory,
      and
      a
      def-
     
     
      inite
      post-modern
      affinity
      for
      pastiche
     
     
      comes
      through
      in
      both
      their
      music
      and
     
     
      lyrics.
      And
      it
      rocks.
      Stick
      a
      spoon
      in
     
     
      me,
      I’m
      done.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      _
      Album:
      I’m
      not
      sure
      if
      this
      album
      has
     
    
   
   
    
     
      a
      name
     
     
      Artist:
      Creation
      Is
      Crucifixion
     
     
      Label:
      Hactivist
     
    
   
   
    
     
      God,
      do
      I
      even
      listen
      to
      any
     
     
      bands
      these
      days
      who
      aren’t
      fans
      of
     
     
      Debord?
      Craggy
      ...
      Anyhoo,
      Creation
     
     
      Is
      Crucifixion
      play
      crazy
      insane-ass-
     
     
      drummer
      technical
      metal
      with
      really
     
     
      sick
      heavy
      slow
      parts
      and
      blast
      sec-
     
     
      tions
      that
      sound
      really,
      really,
      way
      too
     
     
      much
      like
      they’re
      using
      a
      drum
     
     
      machine
      for
      me
      to
      think
      that
      they’re
     
     
      drummer
      boy
      doesn’t
      have
      cybernetic
     
     
      implants
      or
      some
      shit.
      I
      wouldn’t
      put
      it
     
     
      past
      them,
      either,
      as
      most.
      of
      their
     
     
      lyrics
      centre
      around
      high
      technology
     
     
      and
      the
      information
      society,
      and
      the
     
     
      increasing
      domination
      of
      the
      synthetic
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      universe
      over
      human
      existence.
     
     
      Etcetera.
      They
      also
      have
      this
      weird
     
     
      habit
      of
      naming
      their
      songs
      about
      three
     
     
      different
      things,
      like
      “Subversion
      as
      a
     
     
      Tactical
      Metaphor
      aka
      Species
      Traitor
     
     
      aka
      Technology
      is
      Our
      Iron
      Lung,”
      or
     
     
      “The
      Allegory
      of
      the
      Algorithm
      (or
     
     
      how
      I
      learned
      to
      stop
      worrying
      and
     
     
      love
      mimesis),”
      to
      the
      point
      where
      it
     
     
      starts
      to
      get
      on
      one’s
      nerves.
     
    

    
     
      Creation
      is
      Crucifixion
      is
      more
     
     
      than
      a
      metal
      band,
      however,
      as
      they
     
     
      are
      intimately
      tied
      to
      the
      “Carbon
     
     
      Defence
      League”
      and
      a
      part
      of
      the
     
     
      Hactivist,
      the
      anarchist
      “Tactical
     
     
      Media
      Arts
      and
      _
      Engineering
     
     
      Collective,”
      who
      are
      involved
      in
     
     
      everything
      from
      art
      exhibitions,
      to
      giv-
     
     
      ing
      lectures/panels,
      to
      culture
      jamming
     
     
      and
      “semiotic
      terrorism,”
      to
      distribut-
     
     
      ing
      software
      detailing
      how
      to
      repro-
     
     
      gram
      game
      boys
      and
      teach
      elementary
     
     
      school
      kids
      how
      to
      masturbate.
      So
      in
     
     
      other
      words,
      they’ve
      got
      a
      lot
      on
      their
     
     
      plate,
      and
      I
      couldn’t
      even
      begin
      to
      get
     
     
      into
      it
      in
      this
      review,
      nor
      would
      any-
     
     
      body
      really
      expect
      me
      to
      I
      guess.
      (Lazy
     
     
      bastard
      -Ed.)
     
    

    
     
      For
      more
      info
      on
      the
      band,
     
     
      their
      affiliations
      and
      activities,
      check
     
     
      out
      www.hactivist.org.
      So
      yeah,
     
     
      whether
      you’re
      into
      it
      for
      the
      cyber-
     
     
      punk
      techno
      theory
      and
      media
     
     
      activism
      combined
      with
      critical
      school
     
     
      social
      analysis,
      or
      just
      the
      devastating
     
     
      metal
      insanity,
      CIC
      have
      a
      lot
      to
      offer.
     
     
      Oh
      yeah,
      and
      this
      CD
      is
      possibly
      the
     
     
      most
      wicked-awesome
      piece
      of
      plastic
     
     
      I’ve
      ever
      seen
      in
      my
      life.
      Too
      sweet.
     
     
      On
      account
      of
      the
      fact
      that
      there
      are
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Choice
      Cuts
     
    
   
   
    
     
      by
      Jonah
      CAMPBELL
     
    
   
   
    
     
      only
      actually
      three
      songs
      on
      this
      CD,
     
     
      there’s
      a
      lot
      of
      blank
      space,
      which
      CIC
     
     
      dealt
      with
      creatively
      by
      making
      most
     
     
      of
      the
      cd
      entirely
      transparent,
      printed
     
     
      with
      ASCII
      design
      and
      little
      rows
      of
     
     
      binary.
      That
      may
      just
      sound
      stupid
      (if
     
     
      you
      can
      even
      get
      a
      picture
      of
      it
      in
      your
     
     
      head),
      but
      trust
      me,
      it’s
      sweet.
      See
      it
     
     
      some
      time
      (yeah,
      who
      am
      I
      kidding?).
     
     
      (www.hactivist.org)
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Album:
      Light
      Extracts
     
    

    
     
      Artist:
      Eivind
      Aarset’s
      Electronique
     
     
      Noire
     
    

    
     
      Label:
      Jazzland.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Once
      you
      get
      past
      the
      incredi-
     
     
      bly
      pretentious
      name
      of
      this
      band/guy,
     
     
      the
      music
      is
      actually
      pretty
      good,
      and
     
     
      really,
      the
      more
      you
      think
      about
      it,
      the
     
     
      more
      appropriate
      the
      title
      becomes.
     
     
      The
      disk
      starts
      out
      on
      a
      pretty
      ambient,
     
     
      somewhat
      trippy
      note,
      but
      over
      the
     
     
      course
      of
      eight
      songs
      (which
      have
      a
     
     
      pleasant
      way
      of
      slipping
      one
      into
     
     
      another
      without
      you
      really
      noticing)
      it
     
     
      moves
      in
      and
      out
      of
      trip
      hop,
      straight
     
     
      up
      techno,
      psychedelics,
      noise,
      and
     
     
      even
      some
      terrain
      very
      reminiscent
      of
     
     
      the
      Goa
      trance
      coming
      at
      us
      from
     
     
      British
      DJs
      in
      India
      in
      the
      early-mid
     
     
      90s,
      all
      while
      operating
      under
      the
      ban-
     
     
      ner
      of
      the
      “New
      Jazz.”
      :
     
    

    
     
      Apparently,
      Eivind
      Aarset
      is
      a
     
     
      norwegian
      guitarist
      with
      some
      degree
     
     
      of
      cred
      round
      those
      parts,
      and
      I
      can
      see
     
     
      why.
      I
      initially
      took
      this
      to
      be
      unexcit-
     
     
      ing
      but
      definitely
      satisfactory
      back-
     
     
      ground
      music,
      but
      the
      more
      I
      listen
      to
     
     
      it,
      the
      more
      I
      come
      to
      appreciate
      its
     
    
   
   
    
     
      ‘complexity
      and
      dynamism.
      I
      mean,
      a
     
    
   
   
    
     
      portion
      of
      every
      song
      could
      probably
     
     
      qualify
      for
      one
      of
      those
      mail-order
     
     
      self-hypnosis
      tapes
      where
      some
      yahoo
     
     
      talks
      over
      minimalist
      soothing
      back-
     
     
      ground
      sounds
      (minus
      the
      yammering
     
     
      yahoo),
      but
      then
      about
      twenty-five
     
     
      minutes
      into
      it
      you
      realize
      that
      you’re
     
     
      listening
      to
      some
      pretty
      seriously
     
     
      chaotic
      guitar
      noise,
      and
      you
      didn’t
     
     
      even
      notice.
     
    

    
     
      (www.jazzlandrec.com)