TO DOWNLOAD DIGITAL. VISIT:
> LIP CRITIC: lipcritic.bandcamp.com/album/lip-critic-truth-revealed
> OMNIBAEL: omnibael.bandcamp.com/album/lip-critic-omnibael-split-our-side
"Today at God is in the TV we present for your listening enjoyment an exclusive live stream of the new split LP from New York’s Lip Critic and Stoke on Trent’s Omnibael. Worlds collide, and all for you.
Lip Critic are two drummers, two sequencers and lots of shouting. Not at first glance a subtle proposition, but their clear command of an unexpectedly diverse range of influences – electro-punk, hip hop, techno and psychedelic jazz – which they whip up into an unrelenting frenzy of digital hardcore fun, is both exhilarating and a bit scary.
The Alan Vega-ish protagonist of ‘Angel’ waits patiently at the drive-thru for a sick man to save. He might be supernatural, or just psychotic, it isn’t quite clear, but if he’s not what these people need, he wonders, then what’s the point? Elsewhere, ‘Bike’ poses one of the great rhetorical questions of modern pop: “Who could really care when my bike’s so nice / And I got it at such a / Such a great price?”. It poses this question repeatedly and with some considerable urgency. One senses Ron Mael himself nodding approvingly at the bonkers-level, epic intensity with Lip Critic wish to impress this arguably trivial point upon us.
To invoke both Suicide and Sparks in the same breath can only mean that Lip Critic are very much their own thing. The only potential quibble is that, like my beloved Atari Teenage Riot, with whom I suspect them to be similarly besotted, you can sometimes have too much of a good thing – it’s almost a relief when Omnibael arrive.
Almost a relief, anyway. Their contribution is darker and harder, harking back to Godflesh or even Throbbing Gristle, and after the eclectic rush of Lip Critic, a good solid slab of nihilistic industrial noise makes a crazy kind of sense. ‘Pleasure is Pretence’ comes out fighting, built around stabbing drum machines and shlonky, distorted guitar noise and they end with the stomping, hypnotic apocalypse of ‘Ash’. Omnibael make brilliant, unforgiving and palpably angry music. Drown in it." God Is In The TV (www.godisinthetvzine.co.uk/2021/07/15/exclusive-lip-critic-omnibael-album-stream/?fbclid=IwAR1o9_w-8w7FU4EOkn3u2jJXcuRIyY3aHTCJongbDnA1XDY-3M9kw4hQxeQ
released July 30, 2021
Music and production: Bret Kaser, Connor Kleitz
Lyrics: Bret Kaser
Drums: Danny Eberle, Ilan Natter
Drums recorded by Joe Ippolito
Mastering: Phil Moffa at Butcha Sound
Additional recording: Kristian Pitaccio
Electronics/guitars/vocals: Phil Malpass and Jase Kester
Recorded during lockdown on a Tascam 2488 Digital Portastudio with two mics
Mixed, mastered and generally rescued by Wayne Adams (Bear Bites Horse)
This LP is available as a limited lathe cut vinyl (only 20 copies) from the brilliant Nim Brut:
‘There’s something special about a split release. Complementary and contrasting elements brought together. Oftentimes, you’ll buy a split release because you’re a fan of one of the bands, and a well-paired split means you’re likely to become a convert to the other act too. The pairing of Lip Critic and Omnibael is truly inspired. The two acts are certainly more contrasting than overtly complimentary, but that’s the key to the success of this release.
Lip Critic’s previous release, the critically-acclaimed Lip Critic II was a whirlwind of derangement, a frenetic exposition that defied all categorisation. The songs on this split release aren’t quite a s noisy or as manic but instead operate on a whole other level. Make no mistake, Lip Critic are on fire here with their wildly eclectic assimilations. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that they bring together a host of wildly eclectic assimilations and set them on fire. How else do you reconcile the psychedelic jazz jamming of ‘Angel’ that slings in a sack of stoner hip hop into the mix and whips it all into an increasingly tense cocktail? This is a brain-melting postmodern melting-pot of an effort, and I daresay it’s no accident that ‘Bike’ – very much not a cover of the Pink Floyd song – calls to mind the cultureclash racket of ‘Terrorists are Gay’ – the song by fictitious band The Bikes featured on the Chris Morris-penned sitcom Nathan Barley. Only, instead of cheap, trashy lo-fi punk, it’s a hip-hop hybrid that emanates a glorious, self-aware stupidity that’s positively genius and totally fucking Mexico. We live in a crazy intertextual world, where not only is originality dead, but there’s celebration to be had in the revelry of throwing together the wildest pick ‘n’ mix party possible. Here, Lip Critic fully embrace the electronic, using it to construct a car spray-painted with all shades of hip-hop which they then proceed to drive headlong into a wall. Repeatedly. It may be a rather clumsy analogy, but on hearing this, it will make sense. From industrial jungle to electroskapunk drum ‘n’ bass, Lip Critic pack a lot of insanity into five short songs.
Omnibael’s darker industrial leanings are a whole lot more serious, and a whole lot bleaker, evoking vintage Pitch Shifter and Godflesh: hard, heavy, and propelled by clanging metallic beats, theirs is the sound of rage, of fury, of powerlessness and nihilism. The four tracks on offer here are entirely deserving of all the classic adjectives: pulverising, punishing, crushing, devastating, pounding, annihilative, abrasive, relentless, thunderous, merciless, unforgiving. Every track is an assault, a steel-toed kicking that will leave you battered, bloodied, bruised and thoroughly dazed. The musical equivalent of a night at Fight Club, anything less would be a disappointment.
But what we ultimately have here are two bands trying to make sense of a fucked-up world, scanning the same perplexing vista from different ridges and seeing the same bewildering mess. There’s no one way to respond, although the only same approach is in madness. Avail yourself and channel the madness.’ - Chris Nosnibor (Aural Aggravation)