(Bad Alchemy) Black Pits (eh?131, C-30) von HALLWAY FIVE entstand 2017 in Portland, Maine. Die Na­men Sequoyah, Jacob und John sind dabei so obskur wie der Titel. Das Klangbild bringt Bläsergedröhn zu tremolierender Snare. Ein Hochzeits-Korso? Eine Demonstration? Aus Vuvuzela-Tumult oder Einstimmungsgetöns sticht ein quiekendes Sopranosax hervor. Und plötzlich lichtet sich das Zentrum, differenzieren sich Soprano, Trompete, Tuba (?) und blecherne Schläge. Um sich wieder tumultarisch und dröhnend zu ballen, mit krähender Trompete. B-seits ähnlich, mit furiosem Saxophon zu dröhnendem Mulm, prasselndem Noise, in teils abreißenden Schüben, doch immer wieder angefachtem Borbetomagus-Inferno. Low-fi und aus der Halbdistanz, bis ein Tenorsax hervorflammt und wieder ein­taucht in die diffuse Noise- und Feuerwand, mit wohl auch dumpfem Synthkrach und Gitarrenfeedback als Zündstoff neben dem weiter kirrenden, fräsenden Saxophon. Heiße Ohren garantiert. - Rigo Dittmann

(Felthat Reviews) Another great release from Public Eyesore released both as a cassette and a digital download. This little project is definitely one of the trademark sound of Public Eyesore. It is set against the main theme that reminds me of a single minimal sound that is slowly manipulated and transformed and other textures are built around it throughout both tracks which are roughly 14 minutes (track 1 ) and just over 15 minutes (track 2). In many ways it makes me think of the techniques used in improvised music but here all those are used to create a certain ambience and atmosphere which leads to completely different results. The narrative and the way it is handled is way more dramatic and it is not merely intellectual adventure. It feels genuinely dark and Kafkaesque which is even emphasized more by great cover artwork. I am glad these kind of albums are out since it helps to understand how transformative for a listener and a composer artist even a short time devoted to active listening and creating brings so much goodness and advantage. - Hubert Heathertoes

(Vital Weekly) The final new release is on Public Eyesore’s cassette imprint, EH? and is by Hallway Five, which, surprisingly, is not a quintet but a trio of Sequoyah, Jacob, and John. Jacob is Jacob DeRaadt, who is also behind Sterile Garden. I believe the group no longer exists. The recordings were made in 2017, in a warehouse in Portland, Maine. No instruments are mentioned, but there seems to be some kind of electronics, very hard to define what kind, and wind instruments. The music veers to the noisy end, but it never becomes harsh or all too distorted. The music has a free aspect, particularly the saxophone, but it’s hidden in the cavernous space in which it was recorded. The two sides seem to have individual pieces, stuck together into two lengthy compositions, which makes this cassette quite varied; variations on a theme, as the approach remains the same, but they keep finding different approaches. At thirty minutes, this is also the right length. If I remember their music well enough, I am reminded of the Japanese noise act Dislocation. This is one coming closest to my taste in music from these three releases, and something I’d likely return to. - Frans De Waard

(The Wire) Second release from this Portland, Maine trio, which I believe to be posthumous. I don't know much about this outfit, apart from the fact they used a basically jazzoid instrumental line-up to create music with a distinctly abstract quality. It makes me think of a sonically smaller version of the early Mnemonists or something. Meaning, I suppose, that this is excellent free jazz informed new music full of semi-contained violence, perhaps searching for an angry fix. - Byron Coley

(The Offside) Hallway Five Black Pits TAPE (2025, Eh?) - This posthumous release from a Portland Maine trio crafts a path of abstraction through the concourse between free jazz and noise. Captured in a warehouse of which the sonic dimensions enter into the record-ing as a passive-yet-active fourth player. As with almost all releases on Bryan Day's superb Eh? label, the music exists in the margins —above and below—any established genres. Dedicated to Conny Plank and Duke Ellington... and it shows. - Justin Clifford Rhody

(Raised by Cassettes) A slow intensity, this cassette begins with a screeching start. Somewhere between those tense strings of Alfred Hitchcock and nails on a chalkboard, the percussion falls in behind like static rain. An orchestra of sounds now. There is a scraping in here now to where it can feel urgent, as if someone is trying to dig out after being buried alive. But that message can also feel lost in all of the other chaos surrounding it. Horns blare as the cymbals blush and you can begin to hear the various woondwinds amidst the metallic banging of the percussion- somewhat like a trash can, somewhat with more of a tin sound. Expanding and contrasting, a little bit like an accordion drone now. The sounds begin to fade out as it goes almost completely silent, but then that sound like a sax comes in as it also sounds like someone is dropping something they need to play their part (but then dropping that item becomes their part) It's the slow build now, of all these individual sounds returning one by one until they can once again form that collective chaos we heard before. Slow and steady, like JAWS. There is a bit of sound like a certain percussion instrument- a wood block- being dropped or hit in a specific way and then the sax just comes in all wild. Everything is back now, like a buzzing storm. It drifts off into this slow and unassuming wave, which ultimately takes us to the end of the first side. On the flip side the horns come in frantic, as if ghosts. There is a glow about this which then takes us into this ambient slide which I feel was created by a guitar and distortion. The sound can feel like it's skipping now, which also can be like dogs barking. The sharp feedback now comes through like Morse Code. This drops off into more distortion now, scrambles and it just feels like any sense of a rollercoaster ride we might have been on during the first side has now gone off the rails. There is a cross between these horns blaring and the sharpness of the distortion cutting through that just makes this all so unpredictable. This is the type of ride where if you try and fight it you'll want to get off, but if you truly embrace it then you'll find it to be fun. Louder saxes squeak through now. A bit of beeping and that hollow static as this feels like it's drifting off now. A wild sax attack is slowly bringing it back. There is a haunted air about this as it all comes together now. The horns push through with more screeching. As wild of a ride as this has been, just when it feels like we're about to burn out the sound slowly come back up and now even that skramz style sax is back to the front. Just as quickly as that builds all back up, it hits this certain point and then just ends. For this to feel like something which slowly comes down or reaches a pinpoint ending where everyone plays one final note just doesn't seem fitting. To maintain that mystery of where this sound might take you next right up until it no longer takes you is what makes this ride so grand. - Joshua Macala