Boomkat Product Review:
Epic 3CD set celebrating 10 years of Moon Wiring Club via 66 tracks of unreleased, archive and obscure tracks, all remastered splendidly to form something like an 'alternative best of'. It's chronological, so you get the first disc covering 2003-2009, the second 2010-2011, and the third 2012-2013. None of the tracks have been on CD before!
Moon Wiring Club breaks out the black pudding bunting to celebrate 10 years of quintessentially northern english surreality with When A New Trick Comes Out, I Do An Old One, collecting three discs of cherry-picked freaks and ill-conceived ideas sourced from the nether region of his steam-powered hard drive. Fair to say that after a decade of exploring this sound, MWC brilliantly and definitely sounds like nobody but himself.
If you’ve had the head to follow the MWC and Gecophonic saga over the years so far, you’ll no doubt be as a charmed and baffled as us by its darkly sophisticated sense of glamour and maze of Escher-esque looping arrangements which never seem to go anywhere, yet always make you feel like you’ve been somewhere else.
The first disc, A Field Full Of Sunken Horses hearkens back to MWC’s earliest phase c. 2003-2009, including a higher quality version of the titular fan fave which was issued as 128kbps MP3 only by The Wire in 2005, and now appears in higher quality along with the flanging, bubbling magick of Rotten Druid and the bandy-legged swagger of Owd Lads Night, each making canny, secretive use of samples procured from the fecund charity shops and second hand record stores of Clinksell.
His 2nd disc, Tripping In The Elizabethan Sense brings us up to the period surrounding Clutch It Like A Gonk, namely variations on a “dance” music theme. But that’s dance music from Clinksell, some time in a dimension that’s familiar yet parallel to our own, and the results spell out a slew of wrong-steps and mystic fogtrots which, if they came from this dimension, would have predated the ‘90s’ fixation with multiple CD mixes of the same songs. At 22 tracks long, it’s clear that MWC isn’t short on ideas, and that sometimes it’s his overlooked bits that can be the strangest components in Clinksell’s fractal mosaic.
The final disc is a descent into the bowels of MWC. Under the title We In This Hill Are Alive he relinquishes a farther 22 tracks of undulating soundscapes, taking inspiration from the rugged hills and valleys surrounding Clinksell to render a series of deep topographical studies mapping plasmic links between stone circles, hill mounds and ancient folk dressed in cutting edge couture, strongly recalling the feel of Mordant Music’s MisinforMation DVD soundtrack in parts, and leaning into the dreamiest corners of Coil-esque electronics with Midsummer Visitation.
This is a music and upside down world unto itself, one where clocks go backwards and anthropomorphic fancies are an everyday occurrence. It’s a world that will be familiar to many, and seductive to many more.