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Radio/Guitar
Thrum
Lanthanides Series

2004

Table of the Elements
[Holmium] SWC-LP-67
Phono LP, silkscreen

Radio Guitar is fantastic music and noise utilizing radio sound and electric guitar as realized by artists Peggy Ahwesh and Barbara Ess respectively.

Filmmaker Peggy Ahwesh came of age in the 1970's with feminist politics and the experimental film underground. She started working with Super-8 film in her teens and went on to make feature films, including Splice This (1999) and Girls Beware (1997). Her work has recently been shown at Rotterdam, Osnabrook, and The New York Film Festival. She is a recipient of the Guggenheim Foundation Fellowship, the NYSCA Film Production Grant, Jerome Foundation Grant and a grant from Art Matters, Inc. She is presently teaching at Bard College.

Barbara Ess has been performing music in NYC since the 1970s w/ such famed no-wave groups as The Static and Daily Life as well as ensembles led by Glenn Branca and Rhys Chatham, and Y Pants, a trio of women playing music on toy instruments. Most recently she has been a member of Ultra Vulva. She has also worked as a publisher of Just Another Asshole—a series of anthologies of artists works in various formats. She concurrently works as a visual artist making and showing large-scale photographs. A book of her photo work, I Am Not This Body, has been published by Aperture to resounding critical acclaim.

This exquisite, limited-edition disk is only their second release.

“Radio Guitar is a triumph, not a tentative venture. Constructed, as the title suggests, from "radio sound and electric guitar," the tracks sound like field recordings. They crackle and hiss. They sound ancient even as they sound alive, yet theirs is not the sound of a bygone era—'the old weird America'—or a distant cultural enclave. It's the sound of another dimension, neither ancient nor modern, a sound with exceptional extrasensory depth.

“Its faux documentary effect is, of course, the result of painstaking collage. Location recordings are overlaid with found sound and lost memories, filtered through six degrees of separation, screened with random ambience, cut up, looped and layered, and bounced off an abandoned satellite. What's remarkable is not so much the method as its net effect, which is electric. For all their technical wizardry, these recordings still feel authentic, as if you're overhearing events in real time. Listening to them is like eavesdropping on ghosts.

"It's an astonishing experience [and] a thrilling vision—not because it glorifies the familiar, but because it animates the unknown. Radio Guitar sifts through sonic detritus for signs of life and stumbles on another dimension. It may be a house of the spirits or a tower of Babel in some far insect realm. It doesn't matter. What makes this record remarkable—moving, even—is its fresh sense of absence, its longing for meaning and the ingenuity with which that longing is expressed. Not a word of explanation. Not one single hint. The imagination is invisible."

The Wire

"The two components of Radio/Guitar—since their element, holmium, oxidizes rapidly in moist air—quickly change their valence on Thrum. Former no-wave toy player for Y Pants, Barbara Ess makes her guitar gurgle between lost transmissions and atmospheric interference. Similarly, Peggy Ahwesh attunes knobs to pick up both shortwave and shore waves, the two ladies playing like buoys between pirate stations and fog-ensconced ships."

Village Voice