Aficionado Presents: Land of Light

Larry's Lounge

Bar Moda

A Potted History Of The Crackle In Vinyl

A potted history of the crackle in vinyl, for those whose ipods do not fizz, crackle, pop or show any of that 'surface' matter, for that matter.
 

1117 – the first crackle is discovered in Ye Olde Worlde Plague house, Pudding Lane, London. Locals are heard to shout, ‘A pox on your crackles sir, a pox!!’ as the gravest form of insult, as well as 'ye smoothe faced cunt ye! Why were it no for my filthy pock marked, line strewn face sir, I would be taken for a child chimmney sweep.'
 

1324 – Dogs are invented
 

1476 – Megaphones are invented
 

1524 – Colonel Tobias Emary Snowball-Truss listens to his dog barking through a megaphone. The image hangs in the ether of human consciousness for centuries.
 

1901 – The eminent Victorian scientist, philanthropist and vendor of quack nostrums, Dr Harlequin Pluckrosefeltch rediscovers crackles by accident. Working late one evening on sound reproduction in his study, he accidentally spills some tincture of warthog sputum onto his beloved musical cylinder organ. The discomfort of crackles throughout his favourite songs causes him such anger that he becomes a Tibetan yak herder.
 

1948 – Columbia release the first ever vinyl album by a young Danny Tenaglia called New Yoik, New Yoik. Due to an unfortunate disagreement at the pressing plant due to a dispute over sauce rations on the hotdogs, the acetates are forever soiled with mustard, ketchup and over excited loin splash.
 

1951 – RCA launch the ill fated 4-inch 45rpm single.
 

1952 – RCA launch the more successful 7-inch 45rpm single. The extra 3 inches allows for more crackle potential but it is argued that 3 extra inches = jazz crackle!
 

1955 – Bill Haley and the Comets release, ‘Rock Around The Unbearably Static, Crackly, Popping Grandfather Clock’ an homage to Bill’s Father’s Father’s Vandergraff Generator-cum-timepiece. Sales of 4 inch plus 3’s (as they are known) rocket from the crypt.
 

1976 – Punk Rock spawns a newer more deadly form of crackle as pressing plant employees happily ‘gob’ on acetates in reverential acknowledgement of what is between the grooves, and their need to release self-inflicted 'grollies' of UHU filth.
 

1983 – The CD is launched. Crackles are added when people eat their dinner off them.
 

1988 – The rave generation think the fizzes crackles and pops in the grooves are ambient messages sent from planet Ozric and a Guy Called Gerald.
 

1992 – CD sales overtake 12 inch vinyl sales for the first time. Farmers use vinyl crackle to scare moles and crows.CD favouring farmers invent BSE.
 

1997 – Sales of Samplers and turntables outstrip conventional instruments. As a fightback, Dr Nobel Gas Krypton, the eminent German scientist, invents a guitar, which sends out crackles.
 

1998 – Vinyl is 50 years old. Crackles gatecrash the birthday party, kick the door in, drink all the booze and scratch the furniture.
 

2004 – Old samples are released with crackles in new work. Debate flares. Crackles get angry. Say ‘It’s our ball and we’re not playing!’ and immigrate to Nevada, where they open up a motel with shit static TV reception.

 

2009 - Radiohead release a limited polythene bag full of pork scratchings, which they charge nothing for. Farmers complain, suggesting pigs have died for this shit.

 

2010 - Vinyl begins a resurgence. 180gm Audiophile copies of records sell out within hours. Audiophiles weep into their Snap, Crackle and Pop cereal due to the perfection and the loss.

 

2012 - Bands begin to realise the provenance of the crackle and add it to their recording process. Small minded men in Switzerland complain that paper particles are invading their grooves and are somewhat ruining the ambience of their fumidor collection of rare Tame Impala.

 

2013 - Hipsters are buying more 7" records than downloads. Hush my baby baby don't you cry.

Bjork - Violently Harpy

 

Violently Harpy

Has anyone else scored a copy of that recent Bjork record? I don’t mean 'Bastards' , but the collection of unreleased session tracks, which got a Japanese only release at the same time. Strictly under the counter stuff, very limited and very expensive. Thankfully a good friend of mine has just returned from Tokyo and very kindly bought me back a copy.

The album, ‘Icelandic Pixie Ring of Sprite Juice’, is quite incredible; it makes Yoko Ono’s Avant-Garde warblings sound like Celine Dion, and just needs to be heard by more than a few elite Japanese business men and Wire journalists. I’m happy to share my thoughts with those of you who are contemplating the expensive punt.

The album kicks off in grand style with the tune, ‘Black Pearl Piercing Parlour’, for this Bjork sampled the grunts and groans of Five Sumo wrestlers as they had the letters of her name tattooed onto their buttocks. Over this she sings of her love of sportsmen in nappies and talc, in Mauritian.

Song two, ‘Battysea Dogs Home’, is a work of abstract genius. Bjork is accompanied by the the sea bat canine inmates of Battersea dogs home all woofing and a’ barking as she meows in a weird and slightly disturbing way. This of course sets the dogs off and they reach new highs of barking joy.

She continues to push the Avant-Garde boundaries on the album’s third track, ‘Dental Gasthaus 57’. Fifty Seven dentist drills are suspended from a Tyrolean cottage, screeching away whilst the world famous nose and throat singer, Janice Cher-Dubarry gargles the Star Spangled Banner with Listerine.

‘Syringe Balloon Rabbit Warren’ follows. An instrumental consisting of balloons being popped by big rabbits with syringes, it’s her most challenging work yet.

‘Doppelzimmer Samaritan Purse Cake’ is just Bjork’s rumbling stomach sampled through an 808 and then dropped into a charity shop letterbox. (In the background it’s possible to hear, ‘Yes Dear, that’s nice, but it’s not exactly, Des O’Connor now is it?’

‘Jumpin Jack Cow, It’s a Gas Gas Gas’ samples 25 Indian Holy cows as they break wind into a turbine engine with Bollywood’s best known Mick Jagger impersonator, ‘Talvin Sings the Blues’, scatting with a clothes peg on his nose with rampant abound.

The album closes with an amazing duet between Bjork and Burkin Fatso, the world famous opera singer and fat twat. He sings in deep gutteral tones about his love of spam fritters and she sings rhetorical questions such as, ‘Why do all Spanish people wear red cord jeans and rugby shirts?’

If anybody wants me to burn then a copy….tough, I like being an elitist snob with records no one else owns.