The Gag File

Album review

The Gag File is the long-awaited sequel to Aaron Dilloway's acclaimed Modern Jester, although the prolific artist is always busy with collaborations and limited releases. Mirroring his live performances, the album is filled with hideous monster-like vocals and disjointed rhythmic loops created from clanging buckets and other objects. There's also plenty of sudden, uncomfortable pausing and shifting, as well as an entire track that seems to be a processed recording of a casual house party, with lots of laughter, clinking glasses, and a soul record playing in the background. "Inhuman Form Reflected" is a collage of common everyday noises such as alarms, police sirens, and ringing phones held together by a buzzing loop, suddenly cutting to an ogre's temper tantrum at the end. "Born in a Maze" features swarming layers of distortion over a battering, unhinged loop, eventually developing into a heavy pounding wall of psychedelic fuzz. The loops that begin "Switch" are faster and more hyper, almost resembling early-'90s hip-hop. After turning into a scratchy bit of near-silence, another cruddy loop develops, and this multiplies and becomes out of sync, scattering about and kicking the listener's brain in. "Shot Nerves" ends the album with the sounds of melting, sputtering laser blasts, which lapse into scrambled, stuttering voices at the end. Like its predecessor, The Gag File is absurdly humorous, but this time around Dilloway seems to be more intent on capturing moments of domestic dementia, ensuring that the album is somewhat tense and terrifying. It's also highly fascinating, like the rest of Dilloway's work, and he remains one of the noise scene's most innovative artists.
© Paul Simpson /TiVo