Is noise really music? Well, that depends. I mean, all cheese is mold, so when mold starts growing on cheese, is that mold another layer of cheese? You’re shaking your head. Right, then: so cheese is cheese, and mold is mold, and cheese is even mold, but mold isn’t necessarily cheese. You’ve got inedible mold, and edible mold. Inedible mold occurs after a few weeks of neglect. It looks bad, and it smells bad, and you shouldn’t eat it, or it’ll come back to shank you. Edible mold occurs in controlled conditions, in particular vats, with particular bacteria. It smells less rank — but not always, if it’s something like Taleggio — and may still upset some stomachs, but otherwise tastes pretty damn good, and won’t come back to shank you.
So let’s return to our first conundrum, and apply the model of cheese and mold to music and noise. Music is music, and noise is noise, and some music is even noise. But noise, like mold, is not necessarily music. Edible noise, like mold, occurs in controlled conditions, in particular vats, with particular bacteria. And like Taleggio, noise can still reek. But you can eat it, and you might enjoy it, if you can handle the stinky foot scent.
Bleachy Asshole is on the Taleggio side of cheese. It’s gooey, pale, with the exquisite smell of beef-stock-steeped onions. Not for everyone, obviously. And I can’t guarantee that it won’t come back to shank you. Those could be spots of inedible mold on top. Maybe. Hard to tell from this angle. I’d eat it, though. Bleachy Asshole mastermind Thom Strickland has molded myriad molds over the years for the cheese-tasting public of Athens, like the smoked muenster of Smokedog and the gorganzola dolce of Future Ape Tapes. He’s a cheesy guy, Thom is.
So cheese is cheese, and mold is mold, and sometimes, as in this case, noise is cheese. But I’d scrape those dark spots off, if I were you.
Bleachy Asshole is out March 3 on digital and CD via NullZone.