This is not a Hipster album - it's by William Wilding
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WILDING ...and the GOLDEN HAMMER |
This is the 2nd
album by William Recorded throughout 2021 and released early 2022. |
YOU CAN LISTEN TO TRACKS. BUY ACTUAL PHYSICAL COPIES
OR DOWNLOAD FROM OUR BANDCAMP PAGE HERE
OR DOWNLOAD FROM OUR BANDCAMP PAGE HERE
The video footage was created by Stefania Buzatu. Contact via instagram - https://www.instagram.com/stef.with.f/ Thank you StefWithAnF.
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MEAL
HEARTS
SPY MACHINE
CAVE GEZELLUM TRUCK
MUSIC HOOKS
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when you start to rot you’re the perfect spot for a wonderful candlelit meal
Death is just part of the deal how does that feel Far from the noise of the market
buzzing like poisonous snakes Those actors that you voted for Cover your walls with hearts A CAMERA IN YOUR EYE SOCKET THIS MACHINE'S A SOFT MACHINE the ground gives way, the wisest fool is easy to believe the fragrance of eternity Drifts between the trees TRY DOING THAT ON ZOOM IT'S FUCKED TO FUCKEROO AND ITS ALL DOWN TO YOU BRAINWASHED BY MUSIC IT AINT STADIUM ROCK |
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Review from 'The Sound Projector' online magazine
Wilding…And The Golden Hammer (MECHANICALLY RECLAIMED MUSIC) is cut from a totally different cloth however, and listeners old enough to remember the quirky charm of that 1980 single might be surprised at the rather abrasive surface that prevails on the 2022 version of Wilding enterprises. The first thing that hits you – like a cannonball covered with sandpaper – is Wilding’s voice, either coarsened with age, or perhaps affected, through his new pessimistic persona, to sound vicious and ill-tempered. He growls in a vicious Thames Estuary accent, such that each song feels like we’re on the verge of being beaten up in a lonely shopping mall by some local bully. After two conventional songs at the start, ‘Meal’ and ‘Hearts’ with their four-beats to the bar and plodding drumming along with ugly guitar riffs, the album starts to edge towards the more “familiar” territory of weirdness that Wilding evidently knows so well. The whimsy of ‘Concorde’ is still quite some distance away, as he portrays various unpleasant aspects of modern society in very primal terms.The ‘Machine’ song is every bit as bleak and menacing as any given Industrial cassette from 1982 as it takes an unblinking look at a dehumanised vista, while ‘Meal’ offers an equally dismal view of the food chain, reminding us that we’re all food for worms, a kind of post-modern update on ‘Ilkley Moor Bah Tat’. The song ‘Cave’ is even more cryptic, half-sung and half-recit, with sickening noises emerging from the guitar and synth sections, while singer Wilding sounds completely fed up of the human race, depicting its absurdity and depravity with the same skewed outsider genius as Sexton Ming (a comparison I do not make lightly). Oddest of all is ‘Spy’, a 13-minute epic which features the vocals of nonagenarian Margaret Peck. She starts off seriously enough attempting to recite the unusual libretto that’s been handed to her, but the session soon goes wrong as she can’t stop giggling; Wilding is on hand to act as a producer Zappa to her Beefheart every time she collapses and says “This is ridiculous!” The track thus documents its own production, and lays bare something of the process of how records are made; another post-punk trope (e.g. that single by Scritti Politti) that seems to have stayed with our man over all these years.
Cheerfully described by Wilding as “almost normal with drums and quite a regular structure, others are more freeform with a whole mashed up load of noise and stuff as well.” Limited to 100 copies (signed and numbered) with the jokey and slightly rude cover photos.
Wilding…And The Golden Hammer (MECHANICALLY RECLAIMED MUSIC) is cut from a totally different cloth however, and listeners old enough to remember the quirky charm of that 1980 single might be surprised at the rather abrasive surface that prevails on the 2022 version of Wilding enterprises. The first thing that hits you – like a cannonball covered with sandpaper – is Wilding’s voice, either coarsened with age, or perhaps affected, through his new pessimistic persona, to sound vicious and ill-tempered. He growls in a vicious Thames Estuary accent, such that each song feels like we’re on the verge of being beaten up in a lonely shopping mall by some local bully. After two conventional songs at the start, ‘Meal’ and ‘Hearts’ with their four-beats to the bar and plodding drumming along with ugly guitar riffs, the album starts to edge towards the more “familiar” territory of weirdness that Wilding evidently knows so well. The whimsy of ‘Concorde’ is still quite some distance away, as he portrays various unpleasant aspects of modern society in very primal terms.The ‘Machine’ song is every bit as bleak and menacing as any given Industrial cassette from 1982 as it takes an unblinking look at a dehumanised vista, while ‘Meal’ offers an equally dismal view of the food chain, reminding us that we’re all food for worms, a kind of post-modern update on ‘Ilkley Moor Bah Tat’. The song ‘Cave’ is even more cryptic, half-sung and half-recit, with sickening noises emerging from the guitar and synth sections, while singer Wilding sounds completely fed up of the human race, depicting its absurdity and depravity with the same skewed outsider genius as Sexton Ming (a comparison I do not make lightly). Oddest of all is ‘Spy’, a 13-minute epic which features the vocals of nonagenarian Margaret Peck. She starts off seriously enough attempting to recite the unusual libretto that’s been handed to her, but the session soon goes wrong as she can’t stop giggling; Wilding is on hand to act as a producer Zappa to her Beefheart every time she collapses and says “This is ridiculous!” The track thus documents its own production, and lays bare something of the process of how records are made; another post-punk trope (e.g. that single by Scritti Politti) that seems to have stayed with our man over all these years.
Cheerfully described by Wilding as “almost normal with drums and quite a regular structure, others are more freeform with a whole mashed up load of noise and stuff as well.” Limited to 100 copies (signed and numbered) with the jokey and slightly rude cover photos.