Cerberus Vol. 3(2)

Hell of a long December

Preamble

Well, as we’re rounding into the eighth week of December 2020, here’s hoping 2021 turns it all around!

In all seriousness, we knew where 2021 was headed. The wind’s been blowing in this direction since 2001. It’s why finding good music, literature, art, and entertainment that both distracts and emboldens is crucial. We saw the fruits of an isolated 2020 bear out, but I expect more as 2021 presses on. And we’ll do our best to follow it.

Before that, a bit of quick news: the “main” site for Cerberus will no longer be updated regularly. It’s just too much work maintain the newsletter and the main site. You all never surf the web anymore, just like you no longer channel surf, right?

Reviews

The Mall — Every Particle

*Fixed Grin/7-inch; DL*

A gritty dance record from The Mall AKA Mark Plant. The distant, echoing vocals and repetitive beats feel from a long-forgotten but still beloved time when dance halls were synonymous with protesting and prostrating to something bigger. “A Cross” pulsates with rebellious energy, homing in on the same club records that broke through to inspire more mainstream acts that cashed in on the craze 20 years ago. “Peeling” clinches its post-punk fists before unfurling them in a fit of 16-bit rhythms and giving a bit of a modern wink to Plant’s dance classicism. A steady follow up to last year’s Zone, which is getting a vinyl pressing (after two sold out cassette pressings) and will likely propel Plant as a hero to the isolated set who only want to dance.

Dura — Mercury

*Atlantic Rhythms/CS; DL*

A contemplative meditation of the world moving around us even as we wish to slow down or stop completely Mercury is moving both as composition and a testament to life on a rotating orb, Mattson Ogg’s work oscillates with the power of magnetic fields pulling on us with the additional weight of being human beings trapped by human follies. It’s being in the midst of living in a crowd, busy world even when all goes quiet around us. It’s a stark reminder of what the world was like pre-pandemic, but also presents the width to reflect on where we should go. As Ogg confidentiality states, “I’m Perfect in an Empty Room”.

Ashley Bellouin and Ben Bracken — String Songs

*Debacle /LP; CD; Digital*

The lilting hum and straining steel of String Songs pierces my ears, fills my lungs, and soothes my senses. The duo explores an instrument of their own creation, with astonishing dimensions and qualities (thirty-five strings, with each set of strings using a unique bridge). The results are a droning intonation that tests the instrument in different scenarios. On “Sung Strings”, the high bellows of the strings have a choral effect that is simultaneously angelic and demonic. “Strummed Strings” is more sonically grounded, though I’ve never thought of what an intergalactic church organ might sound like until hearing these zither-like instruments resonate so heavily and heavenly in my entire body. “Strung Strings” is haunting, like the credits rolling after a horror movie where the villains have won. Each composition has a strength — no matter its artistic intentions to demonstrate Belloin and Bracken’s instrument — which rattles inside of you and makes you fractured. It’s a challenging listen, because the tone is so unique to both western and eastern influences colliding into a droning epic of string experiments. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need something to relieve my aching teeth from this steeled awesomeness.