Schnipper's Slept On

Each Tuesday, FADER editor Matthew Schnipper highlights an underappreciated recent release he thinks we need to know about. This week it's Harry Pussy's Let's Build a Pussy. Listen to a brief excerpt below and read about it after the jump.











I never listen to this because it is one very long, very annoying tone. Adris Hoyos, Harry Pussy’s flailing drummer, cough/shrieks and then Bill Orcutt cuts and elongates her voice into four LP sides worth of electronified wheeze. Listen to a little of it, it’ll make you mad. But last summer when I sold hundreds and hundreds of records I didn’t even think to get rid of this because it has such stupid tenacity. I like guts.



I saw War on Drugs play one song on Friday. Before that, I saw them play twenty minutes of neurotic sound check. Then they asked for more something in something and I had to go. Just make it work. Do you remember all the jobs George Costanza had on Seinfeld? He didn’t even know what his job was but he did it. He was sleepy at work at the Yankees, so he built a bed underneath his desk. When he needed a new job and a better way to get it, he had Jerry pretend to be his old boss, ran out of the bathroom with pants around his ankles to make sure things went smooth. Tenacity’s got to be a part of goodness; goodness alone is not that good.



But, alas, tenacity is not the workhorse of the creative. Let’s Build a Pussy is like Damien Hurst’s diamond skull, corny but admirable that it was not only a thought but a full execution. But maybe these things are a lesson to the easily seduced to curtail the seduction. I don’t want to encourage such good-centered gaudiness. Think of how much money it costs to produce two LPs of a low beep. It would have been free if they just kept the idea on paper.



Last night I watched True Life: I’m Deaf on MTV and a sixteen-year-old skater gets a cochlear implant. After he gets it turned on he stops in the parking lot on the way to the car and says to his mother with sign language “I can hear wind.” He is aghast. I hear wind all the time. I should listen harder. The final shot of the show is him outside his house, kicking leaves, fingering wind chimes, knocking a hand drum. Everything is so loud to him but ever astonishing. Harry Pussy should meet this kid and collaborate, make some simple noise. He’s their audience realized and whether he knows it or not I am sure he is eager.

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Schnipper's Slept On