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PITA Get off CD, Häpna
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Why
does everybody name Fennesz right away when talking about electronic
experimental music from Vienna and not Pita? Just because Pita wasn’t
born there? But he has been around for over 15 years, producing and
recording (and releasing) the most uncompromising and hauntingly beautiful
noise- and sound-scapes and is in a lot of ways so much more daring and
provocative than Fennesz? I don’t want to bring a separation between the
two (Fennesz released his first EP on Pita’s Mego-label, they had a
project together with Jim O’Rourke called Fenn’O’berg, etc.) but I
am curious as to why one gets so much more fame than the other? (Not that
Pita would be unknown in specialized circles.) “Get off” is his fifth
or fourth full length album, and I am still chewing on his debut-release.
But give it to me anyway, I am not prepared but I guess I am ready. |
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Funny, how Pita always pops up here and there in my
life. My first memory of Peter Rehberg (Pita’s real name) was that of him
reading the intro “Kämpfen die Kräfte” for the last record of Viennese
rockband Occidental Blue Harmony Lovers, which was a direct translation of
Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” done by software. Next he used a
picture of the buildings I grew up in as a cover for his first record. Then
we did an interview with them and he told us all about the cat, the Jaguar
and Wipeout on PSX. A year later I partied on new year’s evening in a flat
that was on top of the studio that Mego, the label that Pita has a leading
role in together with Ramon Bauer, was situated in. I won’t mention the
pita-bread filled with eggs and onions that we ate at home, while our oven
was out of order and all we had was a table toaster, because that pita has
nothing to do with Pita, but of course, the name reminded me. Moreover, this
should mainly be about the music, and music is what counts on all releases
of Pita. And also because he might be the most consequential and
uncompromising electronic soundscaper around. He never shies away from any
sound just because it might not be aesthetically coherent or as likeable as
people would want them to. These sounds are not ambient, i.e. they won’t
back down into an acoustic tapestry for your modern living comfort. These
sounds will make themselves heard. Accordingly, “Get off” is the first
release by Pita – aside from compilation-tracks – that is not on his
Mego-homebase. Usually, the reactions towards Pita’s music range
from awkward but interested to openly hostile (“put that shit out”). His
cataclysmic approach towards sound, which takes equally from all sides and
never spends a single thought on the listener, puts people off, rather than
enriching them. That is because people are always afraid of what they
don’t know (which is why in turn artists like Pita and Fennesz are so
important for proving the equality between sounds that sound good and those
that sound, well, “different”.) and so people miss out. As if using
sandpaper, Pita is tirelessly rubbing away one layer of self-imposed thought
after the other until the listener stands naked to the bones. He uses
various tactics, trying to get to the core of his vision, in the meantime
erasing listeners from the surface of the boardgame like no other artist. I
mean, listening to Merzbow
becomes easy with time. The ears get used to a constant wall of sound – as
beautiful as it might be – and with a little training (what a stupid idea
– you have to want it…) you can realize and find the harmonies and
richness in Masami Akita’s work. Pita is different. He’ll give you no
time to get used to anything. “Get off” is an intensive half an hour indeed.
Bursts of noise stand side to side to spheric, widescreen drones of dark,
echoy places that always make me think of rusty industry halls with
machinery working nearby. Pita drops you from one pool of extraordinary
sounds into the next without hesitation. For instance “Babel” starts as
a furious jazzfunk (in the Gristle-Sense) noise-freak, but soon turns into
chaotic noise-collages that last for another minute or so, filled with
bristling cracks, screams and screeches. The final track, “retour”, on
the other hand is a minimal, high-pitched drone of nine-minutes length with
nothing much happening but a few frequencies layering over each other,
softly trying to subdue each other. I guess, it is those high-pitched
frequencies that always make people most nervous when confronted with
Pita’s music, and the relentless, pounding but usually hidden rhythm of
unpleasant noises. Or the remarkably titled “like watching shit on a
shelf”, that will open the doors for any reviewer to write down his most
intimate, apocalyptic, innermost visions and daydreams. Since I never liked
stream of consciousness reviews, I’ll skip that and suffice it to say,
that this is a great and intimidating sound in its sparseness. Remember, if
you look into the abyss, the abyss will also look into you. Such is that
effect. |
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01/2005