Remember poetry slams? So scary! They were too violent for me to get
into, all that impromptu yelping and movement. I’m pretty delicate when it
comes to that kind of stuff.
But wrap it up in noisy electropunk that features more static than
melody? Count me in. I’m certainly more inclined to appreciate the spoken word
when it’s wrapped up in a pulsating maelstrom of hiss, like a hot dog in a bun.
That’s what I like about Carrie Ford’s “Poems 1” – those poems get the royal
treatment here.
Ford’s delivery is engaging in
its personal approach, ruminating on biology, birth, chromosomes, agency (so
the cover text says, anyway) before caring so little for YOUR feelings that
Ford turns out to be “not sorry.” Ford turns out to be “fuck you” about it,
actually. The vibe throughout the tape is a great big kiss-off of convention,
with no sympathy. That’s what makes it both fun and, dare I say, subversive. I
dare say it.
Yeah! Screw convention.
Plus the music – the
emotion-damaged electronics and sandblasted rhythms – just perfectly helps to
jam everything down your throat so nicely.
--Ryan
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