Friday, 27 January 2017

Rudimentary Peni ‎– "Pope Adrian 37th Psychristiatric" (Outer Himalayan Records ‎– BOOBOO 5) 1995


After another forced hiatus of seven years, where Nick Blinko was in fact detained under section 3 of the UK mental Health Act in a psychiatric institution.It was during his time in this secure unit that he wrote another Prog-Punk concept album.....allegedly.
Its a strange beast with a speech loop of the latin translation of Pope Adrian, playing for the whole of the album between and during all the songs!?....you have to be crazy to have an idea like that.
Musically, the songs have become a standard three minutes in length, slightly slower and metallic, and Blinko's vocals have become a lot more restrained; as if he was on medication, which he probably was. These are the meds, he says stop him dreaming, that he has to stop taking in order to make his art, Obviously not necessary in order to make music.
Comfortably the worst Rudi P record......but don't worry it gets a lot better from here.

Tracklist:

1 Pogo Pope 3:26
2 The Pope With No Name 3:23
3 Hadrianich Relique 3:27
4 Il Papus Puss 3:59
5 Muse Sick (Sic) 4:25
6 Vatican't City Hearse 2:02
7 I'm A Dream 4:07
8 We're Gonna Destroy Life The World Gets Higher And Higher 3:52
9 Pills, Popes And Potions 4:08
10 Ireland Sun 3:47
11 Regicide Chaz III 3:51
12 Iron Lung 2:47


4 comments:

zeroid said...

I don't really listen to this at all anymore, shame really as the artwork that came with the cd is some of his best.

pillihp zelaznog said...

Pharmaceutical meth at it's finest right here. Brutal!!!!

Citizen Dysgeusian said...

From herein it's a job. No love returns to date. It's Matt's band. But he still loves to scribble.

Citizen Dysgeusian said...

Awe, this feels more like the home away from home I've come to know by... as I agree with you 100%. This feels awkward and almost forced. I have found in some circles of self styled outsider musical elite that this is always heralded as their greatest work. I've never understood that but wasn't as quick to scoff. Mainly due to a lack of coherency or understanding in most part over that damnable loop! 'Papas Adrianas' will forever repeat in my own head anytime this is mentioned. In hindsight as you said, rather a winner if given points for strangeness. I tried to edit it out and remixed it when I was younger and have it somewhere but you can still hear it. If you've heard it once you've heard it a thousand times. Again I think they took the antithesis approach to what was expected of them. Short numbers and sharp words... then we will give you drawn out monotony! I always imagined they had suddenly become fanboys of The Fall or something else as aesthetically stubborn. Either way there is brilliance in here if one gets lost in it as possibly intended. 'The Cloud Song' alone is worth it's weight in gold. Think real hard or not at all until that makes sense and you're in the better type of mind state required to handle this sizable little anomaly. Which I wouldn't or rather couldn't call this or any of their albums 'worst'. I do agree this is their most difficult listen. Deliberate or not by them. Hated or loved by you. None matter. This album feels like a ghost of something that has died and refuses to rest but has no deliberate intention or direction in which to haunt. Droning and moaning down hallway corridors to impress no one but itself. Likely more therapeutic in it's aleatoric formation than purposely shaped so. It still smells of soiled under garments and sweat soaked straight jacket straps even after being deloused, moped with bleach and hosed down a few times to encourage reciprocal sales by the weary eyed, disenchanted youth of it's day. Surely a masterpiece when placed on the woodwork mantle. Tarnished, stained and coated in a thick finish or two. It still doesn't detract from the fact this is as twisted, knotted and gnarled by nature and as inexplicable as they come. Possibly the very best place to start if you will sample them all in filling due course. Ending of course with desert a la Death Church. But then again I know nothing of cooking. Just the kitchen which contains.