Hanatarash – Hanatarash 3

The noise that passeth all understanding ..
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it's ok but nowhere near as good as what they did next

Most people know this record as "William Bennett Has No Dick" since that's what's written on the spine. I think William Bennett's dick ran away after hearing this record. Who is William Bennett? He's a conservative, traditionalist windbag, who writes books about horrifying American Values, glorifying the stultification of anything that might be heard on this record. Hanatarash have his penis and use it to drive nails into the coffin of decency. Total aggression, aural violence of the highest order... great for unwanted guests and other vermin... especially busy body neighbors. For real NOISE enthusiasts this is a top notch recording... makes Boyd Rice envious... causes Merzbow to reconsider his game... Stomps the Boredoms into a fine powder and dusts it's colonial wig with them. This is an intense recording that you will never forget.

JAUNDICED SUPREMACY hurls oildrums at the stultified \ THAT'S PERKUSSION (2/3s KONKUSSION / (wink-frown). Intensity has become injurious as it had promised to do when extremity itself became defined as it moulted it's skin out of the mid-80s.
if Spanky from "Our Gang" was a radical religious cult's Osakan speed-fueled enfent terrible, kamikaze is 'divine wind' remember that as you tighten your auto-immolatin' headband and watch or stare aghast but disinterest is prohibited because HE is goin' down, lots is "goin' down",
the "snot-nose" is channeling the SUDDEN REALITY, so etymological analysis is moot and wouldn't help you and your petty bourgeoise pain tolerance even if the read was kamikazi'ed in on a ground zero bullseye.
Y. EYE's "1969" renders 90% of "sound art"-type attempts WORTHLESS before it's first femtosecond is quaver'd.
yeah, yeah, yeah , yeah, Eno's negro blowtorch and his insultingly low-content "ambient" shite is thoughtful, but THIS WORK BRINGS THE AVANT-GARDE TO YOUR LAP without asking; it makes novelty a transgression; this material --too REAL to be called merely "music"-- is so INHERENTLY INSOLENT that it's questioning of any authority cannot be questioned.
THIS IS FERAL ART BRUT and it embarrasses the riches by being threadbare and uncontrived to the point of being as uneyebrowed and immodest a debut, following thru with a rabidly amplified Mishima-worthy assault disguised as performance, a bona fide SAFETY threat to the innocents in the private sector and somehow become a redefining and, for the subgenre's most radical elements, a galvanizing force in AGGRESIV PSYCHE.
This artist and his work represent the very best of Earth.
i thank the designer of the yellow man, Regel, and hail their gaurdianship of wind, for it is wind that evolved the fold epicanthic.