Reynols

Reynols is a trio of Argentinean nutters led by Down's Syndrome-afflicted drummer/vocalist Miguel Tomasin (their name was chosen randomly by a chihuahua walking on a TV remote control unit: Burt Reynolds appeared on the screen - one wonders what became of that penultimate
"d"..), whose releases include a "dematerialized CD" (i.e. an empty box), a
recording of 10,000 chickens in a battery farm, and an album of treated tape
hiss for Bernhard Günter's trente oiseaux label. Once nearly arrested in
Buenos Aires (on the grounds that they might reflect a negative image of
Argentina - maybe Tomasin's next move could be to change his name to Eva
Peron) for plugging their axes into pumpkins and not playing in public, the
trio caught the attention of the new music media with "Pauline Oliverosin
the Arms of Reynols", which brought them an invitation to play a seven-hour
Lincoln Center concert with Pauline herself. All of this is well-known, but
what about the music?
"Bolas Tristes" is a collection of short (except for "Permuto Hojaldre"
which clocks in at 13'25") nihilistic sound blasts recorded between 1994 and
1996 and originally released on cassette in England by Matching Head. Here
it's "remastered" (??) and housed in a lurid fluorescent orange jewel box
(the CD itself seems to have been spray-painted in the same orange and won't
play on half the machines I've tried it on, which is presumably deliberate).
The duff sound quality and uncompromisingly bleak feel of these pieces
strikes a chord with anyone brought up on No Wave and New Wave; "Viento que
sopla pajaros" sounds like early Glenn Branca on downers, and "Eco-tom" and
"Colosos del Aroma" wouldn't be out of place on a Swans bootleg. The
"Barbatrulos" album, recorded in 1997 and 1998, sounds remarkably similar:
not since Danny and the Dressmakers' "Don't Make Another Bass Guitar Mr.
Rickenbacker" has lousy drumming sounded so good. (There are no track titles,
we're told, because "they" (the band, or the titles?) "went to buy osobuco
[sic] to feed our chihuahua dog."..) "Minecxio", most of which dates from
last year, throws together answering machine messages, TV channel signature
tunes and Tomasin's banshee wailing (recorded in a steel mill from the sound
of it) over a backdrop of wailing guitars and effects-loaded drumming. It's
curiously compelling stuff, this strange mixture of early Red Crayola,
Birthday Party and Jesus and Mary Chain (at 16rpm), and I'm half-tempted to
learn Spanish just to be able to figure out what Tomasin is on about (though
I'm not sure it would help much).
Scrolling down the pages of the Betley Welcomes Careful Drivers website in
search of information about their recent Reynols release ("- - - -"), I
realize there must be hundreds, maybe thousands, of people hidden away in
garages all over the world making this kind of noise, or something like it.
Whether Reynols' undoubted knack for self-publicity makes their musical
output more worthy of attention is debatable, but in today's Britney shitney
world it's rather comforting to know these guys are out there. And out there
they certainly are.


User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License and may also be available under the GNU FDL....

READ MORE