Skip to main content

Giant Tank Offline #4 / Ali Robertson & His Conversations

“If you can put a little bit of yourself into the work....” So says Collette Robertson on the first track of Ali Robertson & His Conversations, the latest sonic missive from one of the brains behind the Giant Tank cottage industry, which has rattled the mainstream's bag for more than a decade now with an ever expanding series of gonzoid dispatches.

Both this newish record and the fourth edition of the GT in-house zine continue an assault on culture which dates back to the pummelling sludge-core of Giant Tank the band in the late 1990s. Since they split, the Robertson-run Giant Tank label has been based primarily around the activities of Robertson and cartoonist Malcy Duff. As Usurper, this double act of absurdist provocateurs have become key players in an outsider weirdo network that is both related to and is the antithesis of a now widespread Noise scene.

Utilising a toybox of 'disabled' instruments – marbles, loose change, old springs and other detritus – alongside their own voices, Usurper's live shows have transformed the workaday notion of 'gigs' into a series of increasingly elaborate narrative-based routines that are both hilarious and profound. Duff's series of comics on his own Missing Twin imprint are works of panoramic genius, while an ongoing array of below-radar cassettes, CDrs and zines have skittered off the Giant Tank production line with interventionist glee.

In terms of influence, Usurper's mix of dialogue, relayed found sound volleys and goof-ball humour looks to the japes of The Goons and cartoonist Leo Baxendale as much as veteran forebears such as junk-shop auteurs The Bohman Brothers, free-form vocalist Phil Minton and sound poet Bob Cobbing. The effect is akin to what might happen if the existential vaudeville of Vladimir and Estragon in Waiting For Godot had been transplanted to Steptoe and Son's scrapyard.

The complimentary releases of Giant Tank Offline #4 and Ali Robertson & His Conversations continue in a similar vein, with the clip-clops and traffic noises that follow Collette Robertson's opening gambit on Ali Robertson & His Conversations soundtracking the urban shuffle of a man perennially on the sick. In a fragmented tale of everyday drudgery, the mantra-like repetitions and abstractions of domestic bliss that filter in and out sound like what might have happened if Dylan Thomas had written for art-based online radio station, Resonance FM.

Ali Robertson & His Conversations also showcases two works constructed with activist and film-maker, Sacha Kahir. The babble of over-lapping motor-mouthed voices that follow takes in revolutionary Marxism, old age super-heroes and Spiderman artist Steve Ditko. In its discursive insistence it's the sort of late-night spraff that acts as a necessary release from the daily grind.

Collette Robertson reappears on the contents page of Giant Tank Offline #4, the latest compendium of words and images from Robertson, Duff and a slew of fellow travellers that acts as a kind of ongoing Giant Tank manifesto and wilfully luddite state of the nation splurge. While the cover features an image of a man's arm eternally in chains, inside, Robertson's introduction is a nihilistically self-aware pen portrait of how Giant Tank's revolution probably won't start at closing time.

Beyond such maudlin reflections, the following twenty-four appositely bright pages contain a pick and mix pot potpourri of cartoons, short stories, concrete poetry and art. Susan Fitzpatrick of noise duo Acrid Lactations does a comic strip called Passing The Day, which transcends the humdrum into something more comically fantastical. There is a William Blake inspired science-fiction fantasia by Daniel Spicer, and a chapter from a novel credited to JD Salinger's fictional savant, Seymour Glass, that features the members of American noise duo, Macronympha, and disgraced ice skater Tonya Harding on a road trip.

Robertson's contributions include a Kafkaesque dialogue on the Sisyphean nature of working life, while the snakes and ladders of evolution are catalogued in an illustration by Rob Hayler. There are words of wisdom from Angela Sawyer, an abstract text by Joe Murray and a typically off-kilter cartoon by Duff.

In its frustrated railings against The Man, its use of science-fiction and sex as getaway vehicles and its depictions of a language frustrated beyond words, Giant Tank Offline #4 is as old-school underground as it gets. Read it while listening to Ali Robertson & His Conversations. Whistling while you work will no longer be an option.
Ali Robertson & His Conversations and Giant Tank offline #4 are available at duffandrobertson.bandcamp.com. Giant Tank's work can also be found at duffandrobertson.tumblr.com

Ali Robertson appears with Malcy Duff as Usurper with Acrid Lactations and Dead Labour Process at at an afternoon show at The Safari Lounge, Edinburgh,on Saturday January 16th, 1-5pm. Usurper also appear with Dora Doll, Anla Courtis and Butter at the Banshee Labyrinth, Edinburgh, Saturday January 30th, 7-10pm.

Product, January 2016

ends

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Losing Touch With My Mind - Psychedelia in Britain 1986-1990

DISC 1 1. THE STONE ROSES   -  Don’t Stop 2. SPACEMEN 3   -  Losing Touch With My Mind (Demo) 3. THE MODERN ART   -  Mind Train 4. 14 ICED BEARS   -  Mother Sleep 5. RED CHAIR FADEAWAY  -  Myra 6. BIFF BANG POW!   -  Five Minutes In The Life Of Greenwood Goulding 7. THE STAIRS  -  I Remember A Day 8. THE PRISONERS  -  In From The Cold 9. THE TELESCOPES   -  Everso 10. THE SEERS   -  Psych Out 11. MAGIC MUSHROOM BAND  -  You Can Be My L-S-D 12. THE HONEY SMUGGLERS  - Smokey Ice-Cream 13. THE MOONFLOWERS  -  We Dig Your Earth 14. THE SUGAR BATTLE   -  Colliding Minds 15. GOL GAPPAS   -  Albert Parker 16. PAUL ROLAND  -  In The Opium Den 17. THE THANES  -  Days Go Slowly By 18. THEE HYPNOTICS   -  Justice In Freedom (12" Version) ...

Edinburgh Rocks – The Capital's Music Scene in the 1950s and Early 1960s

Edinburgh has always been a vintage city. Yet, for youngsters growing up in the shadow of World War Two as well as a pervading air of tight-lipped Calvinism, they were dreich times indeed. The founding of the Edinburgh International Festival in 1947 and the subsequent Fringe it spawned may have livened up the city for a couple of weeks in August as long as you were fans of theatre, opera and classical music, but the pubs still shut early, and on Sundays weren't open at all. But Edinburgh too has always had a flipside beyond such official channels, and, in a twitch-hipped expression of the sort of cultural duality Robert Louis Stevenson recognised in his novel, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, a vibrant dance-hall scene grew up across the city. Audiences flocked to emporiums such as the Cavendish in Tollcross, the Eldorado in Leith, The Plaza in Morningside and, most glamorous of all due to its revolving stage, the Palais in Fountainbridge. Here the likes of Joe Loss and Ted Heath broug...

Carla Lane – The Liver Birds, Mersey Beat and Counter Cultural Performance Poetry

Last week's sad passing of TV sit-com writer Carla Lane aged 87 marks another nail in the coffin of what many regard as a golden era of TV comedy. It was an era rooted in overly-bright living room sets where everyday plays for today were acted out in front of a live audience in a way that happens differently today. If Lane had been starting out now, chances are that the middlebrow melancholy of Butterflies, in which over four series between 1978 and 1983, Wendy Craig's suburban housewife Ria flirted with the idea of committing adultery with successful businessman Leonard, would have been filmed without a laughter track and billed as a dramady. Lane's finest half-hour highlighted a confused, quietly desperate and utterly British response to the new freedoms afforded women over the previous decade as they trickled down the class system in the most genteel of ways. This may have been drawn from Lane's own not-quite free-spirited quest for adventure as she moved through h...