Anti-Aesthetically Pleasing

I was at the Moma with P-Ballz once, when we stumbled upon a small, inflated tent made of clear plastic.  The exhibit noted that the artist was inspired by an encounter with a homeless man (obvious) and that the piece was a protest against homelessness (because it's some sort of movement?).  Disgruntled, P kicks at the tent, shouting, "More like a protest against aesthetics!"  And she was correct.  And though that tent was a product of amateurish dilettantism, many artists, from neo-dadaists to punk outsiders, are out there just to make a mess and rub it in your face.  And so on that topic, here's some random stuff that I love because it's so unlovable!

Cassis Cornuta, aka Daniel De Wereldvermaarde Botanicus, is a Dutch noisist (trying to make this a word, join in the cause) who has been creating damaged, fractured, and vandalized sound-art since the '70s.  His new LP, mag ik eens even in uw broek pissen, continues his tradition of broken-sounding anti-music, spliced and diced, which is surprisingly listenable but by no means a crowd-pleaser.  With fear that his record may be too listenable, Cassis drilled multiple spindle-holes in the center of the lp, enabling off-centered play on your turntable.  According to Cassis, the record is meant to be listened to from any and all of these "alternate centers."

The Argentinian experimental group, Reynols, has always been a favorite for fans of "other" music, especially for those who get preoccupied with the novelty of their drummer, Miguel Tomasín, who has down syndrome.  While much of their output is psychedelic rock, a great deal of their releases involved you in the experiment, such as their first album, dematerialized CD, which consisted, of course, of an empty CD case.  Then there was Blank Tapes, and yes, it's recordings of blank tapes playing, mixtures of soft, white noise.  My favorite was a 7 inch I picked up (can't remember where) of 10,000 Chickens Symphony, which is also self-explanatory, though surprisingly harsh and unrecognizably chickens (after 100 things start to distort, or so I'm told). 

Danish artist Asger Jorn in collaboration with the French artist and theorist Guy Debord put together the infamous book, Mémoires, a work of psychogeography detailed with graphics, collages, and theoretical text.  What's most referenced of this book is its cover, made of sandpaper, which will inevitably scratch the other books on the shelf, thus we have a product of pop culture designed to destroy it, or at least damage it.  This was reprinted in 2001 and may possibly be available without high collector prices.

I thought about listing some really harsh, shrill noise bands here as well, but a lot of them are being saved for another list.  Plus, I'm already bored with this.  So that's all.