Dusted Reviews

MCMS - 1997-2000

today features
reviews charts
labels writers
info donate

Search by Artist

Sign up here to receive weekly updates from Dusted

email address

Recent Reviews

Dusted Reviews

Artist: MCMS

Album: 1997-2000

Label: Last Visible Dog

Review date: Oct. 11, 2004

Formed in the cultural pothole of Lincoln, Nebraska, by Matt Silcock, Steve Rolfsmeier and Last Visible Dog label head Chris Moon, MCMS were krautrock-inspired noiseniks who released a small pile of recordings in the late-’90s. This set collects the majority of the group’s catalogue, offering a comprehensive study of these Midwestern experimentalists’ varied, yet fascinating body of work.

The first disc contains the entirety of the group’s third release, 1998’s MCMS 3, and selections from their first two discs, ’97’s Factory in Heaven and ’98’s Festum Asinorum. The three tracks from Factory are unremarkable compositions that pit Rolfmeier’s paint-can percussion against tugging waves of noise and Silcock’s sax skronks. By the time of MCMS 3, the group had settled into more of a groove – literally – spitting out shards of dissonance amidst post-kraut clatter.

Disc Two, containing the 1999 MCMS album, is a far more mature and adventurous work. The acoustic guitar, flute and percussion that appears on “Prelude to the MCMS Album of Love,” “?” and “We Love, You Love, Me Love” shows their sound meandering into free-folk territory remarkably similar to the kind being practiced by the current crop of earthen psych experimenters. Even the brutal material is sharper and more focused; “Dean Thompson, Killer of the Living” is a vicious stomp where all sounds, save for an insistent rattle, are forged into a searing drone.

The group’s most interesting material appears on the final disc. Featuring pieces of the group’s split recording with Yermo – The Womb That Gives Birth to Itself and the epic Great Golden Hive Of the Invisible, the work here is a prime distillation of the previous releases. The 30-minute Womb, is filled with eerily beautiful, slow motion droning and thunderous thuds. Golden Hive adds some electronic fuckery and tripped-out guitar, most notably on the six-string and keys duet “Flicker and Fade On The Planet Where You Are.”

Silcock’s hilarious tongue-in-cheek liner notes are an added plus, a good read that simultaneously pokes fun at the group while reciting the history of “the greatest Nebraska band of all time.”

By Ethan Covey

Read More

View all articles by Ethan Covey

Find out more about Last Visible Dog

©2002-2011 Dusted Magazine. All Rights Reserved.