“Black Pus” (Used 4 times)

Black Pus is the many-armed beast of a solo project from Brian Chippendale, one of the most distinct musicians and visual artists of our time. If you're not already familiar with the sounds of Black Pus, you may recognize Chippendale's many-armed drumming style and masked mic-in-mouth vox from his duos Mindflayer and Lightning Bolt. A co-founder of the storied Fort Thunder artist collective, Chippendale still lives in the Olneyville neighborhood of Providence, in a former mill building where lately he seems to be writing a new Black Pus song almost every night. So while we're wrapping our heads around 2011's Primordial Pus (Load Records) -- not to mention the limited edition CD-R series of Black Pus 1, 2, 3, 4 and 0 -- there's already a seventh Black Pus album ready to pop.

The live set on Marty McSorely's WFMU program is a special treat because, though he is a prolific musician, Black Pus doesn't tour nearly enough to quench our thirst for Pus. The set was expertly engineered by Ernie Indradat, and the interview covers recent collaborations with Björk and the Flaming Lips. Chippendale also talks about how he assembled such a unique setup, including an oscillator pedal that was originally a gift from Shinji Masuko of DMBQ. When Marty McSorely asks "What is Brian Chippendale's Black Pus?" Chippendale responds that it's reggaeton. He goes on to elaborate on a range of influences from the free jazz assault of Peter Brötzmann's Machine Gun to the unpredictable rhythms of Sightings and Black Dice (who started out as a hardcore band in Providence around the same time as Lightning Bolt).

In some circles, Brian Chippendale is known as much for his fine art, comics and graphic novels as for his music. His visual style can be experienced as part of every Black Pus and Lightning Bolt release. And, as those of you who are on the WFMU swag mailing list may have heard, Brian Chippendale designed an awesome biker t-shirt for WFMU's marathon which begins later this month!

Previously on the FMA: doncbruital (Angels in America) on Anarchic Self Reliance: Black Pus

For more, check out the Black Pus blog, which just debuted this trippy surrealist video for "I'll Come When I Can," off Primordial Pus.

"Southern Illinois native Zac Nelson is a drummer, and knowing that you should also know that he is a madman". -Holy Mountain's release page for the Hexlove album Knew Abloom (Life's Hood)

It does require a very unique kind of drummer -- "a madman", perhaps -- to venture into new sonic territories. The result -- as with Zac Nelson's Hexlove -- can be infinitely rewarding, but too often, the Drummer is cast as a mere beat-keeper, as if The Beat is something that must be kept. This leaves little room for innovation, especially in any genre-specific setting, where the drum kit and drumming have both been standardized; there is already a well of tried and true beats at a drummer's disposal.

But when those born into the drummer's throne are naturally inclined to explore beyond the drum cage, they bring with them an exhilaratingly fresh, hyper-rhythmic approach to music composition and improvisation. A new generation of exciting drummer solo projects is emerging right here on the FMA: Black Pus (Brian Chippendale of Lightning Bolt), Soft Circle (Hisham Baroocha ex. Lightning Bolt/Black Dice), GDFX (drummer for Teeth Mountain, Liturgy, and the Dan Deacon Ensemble) and Bolmongani (Ryan from Paik) come to mind. And we're very excited to welcome Hexlove to the FMA with his Harp Drafts EP, a free release from the blossoming Obstructive Vibrations label.

Across Harp Drafts' four tracks, Zac Nelson unleashes a fluid outpouring of expressive drumming atop kaleidoscopic harp loops and ambient electronics. He hints at patterns that beg you to grasp for them but fade when you try. And that's ok -- just let it wash over because each new trajectory sets off a fresh batch of seratonin. (Take a listen and read on after the jump...)

Let's start by defining art. Free of braggadoccio, with an eye toward maintaining some charitable humility for all that we as mortals don't hardly understand, we might conceive of artistic expression as a means of stoking the universe's natural fires of mystery, of approximating their epic wonder, of exalting in their glow. Quite obviously in this conception humankind may be regarded as rather small, a group of perennial attempters doing their damnedest to point to something which, being ineffable, can't hardly be taken in in its entirety; the blind men and the elephant, like. Not for a second do I buy, for instance, that goofy brand of Objectivist self-worship that, lilting in worship over humanity's ability to build a high-rise, only represses its mind in the service of control. No, humanity is fundamentally imperfect--that's the point--and as for control, well, there ain't none.