(Vital Weekly) This is my introduction to the work of Kal Spelletich. I may have heard his previous band, Seemen, in the cassette era, but I forgot what that was about. The information here says it an "interactive machine art performance collective". He also worked with Survival Research Laboratories, and he works with "exploring the interface of humans and robots". For the twelve pieces on this curiously titled cassette, he says that "all of the sounds heard on this recording are from custom-made machine/robot instruments. None of the sounds on this recording come from store bought instruments, samples, albums nor field recordings. The sounds come from sound machines I made. Let’s just call me a purist." And, also, that "These are compositions not so much songs. They are arranged sounds." That's good to know. Without the images, it is not easy to say what Spelletich does. One would all too easily go back to what one already knows and that results into trying to describe using such words as 'synthesizers', 'musique concrète', 'drones' and 'electronics', which is all the sort of things that come to mind when hearing this music. Surely, there are mechanical sounds in the music, of 'something' banging against 'something'; object upon an object, perhaps, sometimes arriving in shortcut loops or with the use of electronics (or not?) stretched and sustaining a bit. Also, 'something' with strings is a strong contender for some sounds in here. Spelletich, whatever it is he does, brings life out of his material and in his pieces, he shows quite a bit of variation. From the rattles in 'My Own Fibonacci System' to the vacuum cleaner sounds of '8 Tracks of Machine Tool Motors' (well, or different machine tools), from massive blocks of sound to more introspective object abuse. It is quite industrial music, pretty much all of this, but without going towards a more regular noise album, and that's great news. - Frans de Waard

(Disaster Amnesiac) Land's sake, eh? Records, you've worn Disaster Amnesiac out for a bit! After going around and around with Pay Dirt and Real Tree, I've found myself digging into The Blessing of the ZHENGKE ZGA37RG from San Francisco-based Kal Spelletich, a man that has many siblings (is one of them named Nik?) Along with being part of a large family, Spelletich has also been prodigious within the Industrial/Noise Music scene for many years. His group Seemen definitely has a name for itself, and he's also been involved with Survival Research Laboratories, which in and of itself should be enough of a bona fide for any fan of underground creativity. For The Blessing, Kal utilized his own talents and creativity to produce several different sound making machines. From these inventions, he's coaxed all kinds of roars, and slides, and wobbles, and shrieks, and cries. Disaster Amnesiac's favorite piece is the very dance-able My Own Fibonacci System, which, after multiple listens, has not failed to get my ass up of my chair and moving, what with its wiggly machine shuffle. Other tracks have the effect of moving the perceptions to various places: contemplation, amusement, sheer terror. He gets many and varied sounds from his inventions. This tape is way far from being a one note type of affair, something not always the case from Noise releases. As the tape rolls along, you can feel yourself inhabiting their varied spaces. Also of note is the really great live sound on all tracks. Spelletich did a fine job with sound capture, eh? Records boss Day did not slouch when it was time to mix them. There is a presence to the sound qualities of The Blessing of the ZHENGKE ZGA37RG that can make one feel as if one is there among those intriguing creations. Not to sound like a broken record or anything (well, maybe just a little bit), but damn it would be nice to be able to be in attendance at some kind of release show for this great cassette. How fun would it be to "enter or operate his pieces, often against [your own] instincts of self-preservation". Or, are we past being able to assume that kind of risk now? Hmm.......... - Mark Pino

(Bad Alchemy) 'The Old World is Dying and the New World Struggles to be Born' - erinnert das nicht an das Biest, das bei Yeats slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? KAL SPELLE­TICH lässt mit 'Now Is the Time of Monsters' vermuten, dass es ihm selber so geht. Seit 38 Jahren arbeitet er mit Klangmaschinen eigener Bauart an der Schnittstelle zwischen Mensch und Maschinen, Automaten, Robotern und nutzt dabei die Tech­nologie, um unsereins rückzukoppeln an die Basics: 'Mud / Electricity + Intelligence = Life', 'Economics (Labor) / Pay = Slavery'. Ob in The Blessing of the ZHENGKE ZGA37 RG (eh?115, grey C50) ein Hinweis auf Nick Soudnick und seine ZGAmoniums steckt, weiß ich nicht, definitiv gehört Spelletich aber zur von Russolo begründeten Gyro Gearloose-Brotherhood und zwar, wie auch Bryan Day selber, zum futuristischen Zweig. Knackende Kaskaden lassen einen mit Delay verschalteten Spielautomaten vermuten, einen Wellenwerfer aus der Familie der Intonarumori, das rau rumorende Drehmoment danach einen kreisenden Reiber und Brummer. Das Swamp-Thing ver­bindet einen dumpf paukenden Loop mit Vibrato, in dem eine Anmutung paranormaler Stimmen mitwabert. 'My Own Fibonacci System' bringt mit schnellem Puls eine stramm trabende und dabei klingelnde Motorik, gefolgt von surrend bohrendem Noise und von einer eisernen Kugel, die auf einer perkussiv angeschlagenen Schiene hin und her schnurrt. Die B-Seite liefert weitere, dumpf bepochte Dröhung und fauchende Reibung, dunkel und nahezu feierlich. Wie mit Didgeridoo und eisenhaltigen Wooshes entwirft Spelletich prompt eine 'Theory of Heaven'. Aber Götter waren im Dunkeln schon immer schwer von Monstern zu unterscheiden. Eins davon schlumpt hier zu sausendem Gedröhn seinen cthulhuesken Gang, gefolgt von röhrendem Horror zu flattrigem Beat. Suggeriert wird immer etwas mehr als nur Mechanik und Automaten­klang. Der Motor will nochmal fast etwas rufen, etwas sagen, die Fabrik wird zum Dancefloor für Beatmuster und bohrende Impulse. Zuletzt pauken und federn wieder dumpfe Kaskaden zu knackender Mechanik und dröhnendem Rumor. Die Maschine entblößt im Ohr jene hybriden, ja chimärischen Züge, die auf Interfaces und Screens so schön poppig, stündlich neu und nervenkitzlig und, mit Lem gesagt, verflixt be­nignatorisch überblendet sind. - Rigo Dittmann

(Lost In a Sea of Sound) The pulse of industrial machinery drowns out the natural world. A rhythm emerges from walls of noise echoing through enclosed spaces. Visualizing the sounds of Kal Spelletich, listeners are buried with a mechanization of sonic structures. A place where the aural world continues to exist long after humans have left. This energy holds beauty in the reaches of ingenious creativity. The assemble of machines from lifeless parts, the splendor of connecting consciousnesses through inanimate mediums sparked with life. The biggest or most important thought surfacing after listening to The Blessing of the ZHENGKE ZGA37RG is how congruent and fluid these sounds are. From an artist crafting all the devices used to make this sonic composition, there is no disjointedness. Noises gently ushered from inception to beauty. Rhythms slowly turning, received like AM radio waves in perfect signal strength, then fading into blurring static. The process oscillates among all of the pieces Kal Spelletich has created. Like tides rising and falling, this timeless process feels completely natural in a world so far from it. Released on Public Eyesore Records / Eh? in an unknown number. Unfortunately physical copies are sold out, but the digital is available for listen and purchase on bandcamp. You can find out more about Kal Spelletich's creations from his site here. The Blessing of the ZHENGKE ZGA37RG could be the first release for Kal Spelletich under his name, but in past projects Seeman and Survival Research Laboratories there is a large body of work. An added degree of quality for this composition is mixing by fellow creator Bryan Day and mastering by James Plotkin. - Robot Rattle

(Kathodik) Kal Spelletich ha militato nei deragliati texani Seemen (un album su Bomp! nel 1994) ed è transitato anche nel Survival Research Laboratories di Mark Pauline. Questo “The Blessing Of The ZHENGKE ZGA37RG”, si premura di farci sapere, è stato composto unicamente da strumenti meccanici robotizzati realizzati ad hoc, dunque, nessuna strumentazione conosciuta od utilizzo di field recordings o samples. Buono a sapersi Kal. Comunque il tutto, viaggia su stridori simil cordeschi, cupe atmosfere da interno fabbrica, sbattimenti ritmici in loop, martellamenti simil gamelan (My Own Fibonacci System), cortocircuitazioni di simpatica grazia (Tracks Of Machine Tool Motors). Nell’insieme una visione devasto/sinfonica distante dall’accumulo noise senza senso. Daje Kal! - Marco Carcasi

(Sound Projector) Kal Spelletich is an entirely new name to me, but this rugged American individualist has been on the margins of culture for many decades with his dangerous noise-making robot devices. Let’s state off the bat that it would be a mistake to characterise him as a musician of any sort, there is no discography to his name, and the sounds and the machines on today’s tape The Blessing of the ZHENGKE ZGA37RG (EH? AURAL REPOSITORY EH?115) are avowedly non-musical; Kal himself wishes to stress the complete lack of “store-bought instruments, samples, albums, [or] field recordings” involved in its production. The 12 tracks here were recorded in 2020, but it’s evident he’s been building his infernal engines for much longer than this. His personal history begins around 1980 when he got involved in an aggressive form of street art / performance art in Iowa, that subsisted on the fringes of punk rock culture and may have left a few noses bloodied. He founded his Seemen organisation in 1987 to attract like-minded outlaws and disaffected souls wishing to inflict surprise and shock on society through hit-and-run-style tactics; it wasn’t long before he hooked up with Survival Research Laboratories, those crazed Californians led by Mark Pauline with their warlike mechanical devices that were built to slice, saw, burn and crush each other in the arena, thereby presenting a bleak nihilistic view of defeated humanity in a post-apocalyptic world. Spelletich worked with them through the early 1990s. It’s also no surprise to find him flourishing at Burning Man, that open-air festival that continues to be a popular refuge for assorted pagan misfits. His early manifestos find him spitting much bile and hate at the world, but Kal Spelletich may have mellowed a little since then, and one aspect of The Blessing is that it highlights the interactive nature of his robots, which is a fundamental part of the work; the audience must engage with the machine, even if it appears unsafe or the results might be unexpected, in order to generate some sort of performative response. To use his own expression, “vacuuming the floor or grinding coffee allows you to perform and collaborate with me!” I mention this as there’s very little about Survival Research Laboratories that is “interactive”; rather the expectation is that audiences are invited (some might say forced) to witness a horrifying bloodbath of cogs and gears and flames, then go home with their heads in their hands. Oddly enough this once-radical form of expression is now, of course, much more commonplace – there’s the BBC TV show Robot Wars, and that episode of The Big Bang Theory where our heroes take on Kripke and lose. So maybe that’s an indicator of a successful cultural invasion, and even a form of participation if you will. The other thing to note is that the sounds on The Blessing are not quite as threatening or dangerous as some of the above spiel might suggest – in fact for the most part it’s very engaging, and the machines sound positively happy to be alive and performing their mechanical tasks. There may be a particular trope in 20th-century art which shows factory machines coming to life and developing human features – the most poignant and effective instance would, for me, be the illustrations of Boris Artyzbasheff. This might be what the artist means when he claims “I often felt like I was coaxing my motorcycle to talk”. More photographs would have helped one appreciate this release more deeply, but for those readers who are intrigued may I direct you to the artist’s own website. It remains to mention the imaginative titles here, which are a combination of things – descriptions of the robot machines, elaborate mathematical formulae, or phrases which amount to a philosophical observation about the state of society. All of these titles indicate a powerful mind at work, an artist with high ambitions who dreams about changing the world with his machines. He’s done it. - Ed Pinsent