Vols I & II photograph

Incase you're wondering what these look like. As indicated in the first post, all volumes will have uniform packaging.

Vol. II - Vomir 'Honour to Bleak Existence'

Et c’est totalement vide
Et c’est totalement vide
Et c’est totalement vide
Lourd et vide et ennuyeux
Comme l’espace où tu es
Comme l’espace où tu es désormais

L’air d’irréalité
L’air d’irréalité est épais ici
Est épais ici
Tu es coincé
Et tu ne peux pas penser
Et tu as oublié comment faire
Et tu ne peux pas
Et tu ne parleras à personne
Et tu as oublié
Et tu veux être seulement confus et seul
Et récure à fond dans ton cœur
Dans ton cœur
Jusqu’à ce qu’il ne reste rien
Rien
Ce qu’il ne reste
Rien
Et le peu qui reste
Et le peu qui reste
Et le peu qui reste
Ne fait que descendre le tuyau d’écoulement

Le mécontentement du présent
Le manque de satisfaction
Toujours en train de te préparer à le faire
A le faire
Te préparer à le faire
Te préparant à le faire
Mais tu te contentes d’être toujours prêt
Tu te contentes d’être prêt
Alors pense à tirer quelque chose de cette consomption
Consomption
Qui laisse l’esprit
En éveil
De cette consomption qui laisse l’esprit en éveil
Et le corps dépérir
Dépérir et pourrir
Dépérir et pourrir
L’esprit en éveil
Sans mémoires
Exilé de ta vie
Sans mémoires, exilé de la vie
Tu restes
Tu restes
Tu as même oublié que tu désirais
L’étendue du désert

Et tu ne penses plus à ces jours
Et tu penses de moins en moins
Et ça s’est apostasié
Et tu acceptes l’apostasie
Pour devenir apostat de la totalité
Apostat de la totalité
Et c’est bon
Et vide
Et c’est bon et vide
Et c’est bon et vide
Tranquille
Et immobile
Tranquille et immobile
Sans mémoire
Sans mémoire
Sans volition
Et totalement confiant
Et lucide
Et incroyablement clair
Et serein
Sans volition
Et tu restes
Tu restes là
Et ça ne finit jamais
Et c’est absolument vide
Et toi, et ça
N’êtes
Même
Pas
Là

Et toi et tout ça n’êtes même pas là
Et toi aussi
Toi aussi
Tu peux devenir
Un expert
De l’ennui
Tu deviens un expert du repli

Roro perrot (d’après Giorno)



English version

And it's totally empty
And it's totally empty
And it's totally empty
Heavy and empty and boring
As the space where you are
As the space where you are now

The air of unreality
The air of unreality is thick here
Is thick here
You're stuck
And you can not think
And you forgot how to
And you can not
And you do not speak to anyone
And you forgot
And you only want to be confused and alone
And scour deep into your heart
In your heart
Until nothing remains
Nothing
What remains
Nothing
And the little that remains
And the little that remains
And the little that remains
Only down the drain

The discontent of this
Lack of satisfaction
Always being prepared to do
To do
Getting ready to do
Only preparing to do
Just happy to be always ready
Just glad to be just ready
So do think to make something of this consumption
Consumption
Who let the spirit
Awake
This consumption that leaves the mind alert
And the body wither
Wither and rot
Wither and rot
Always alert
Without memory
Exiled from your life
Without memory, life in exile
You stay
You stay

You have even forgotten that you wanted
The extent of the desert

And you no longer think of these days
And you think less and less
And it has apostatized
And you accept apostasy
To become an apostate of all
Apostate of all
And it's good
And empty
And it's good and empty
And it's good and empty
Tranquil
And still
Quiet and motionless
Without memory
Without memory
Without volition
And totally confident
And lucid
And incredibly clear
And serene
Without volition
And you stay
You sit there
And it never ends
And it is absolutely empty
And you, and it
Are
Not
Even
There

And you and all are not even there
And you too
You too
You can become
An expert
Of boredom
You become an expert in decline

Roro perrot (inspired by Giorno)

***Another lesson in true harsh order. Similar in texture to last year's 'Proanomie' but with more fluidity it combines sludgy low-end bass with incredibly jagged mid. At seventy-seven minutes this is the longest single session of punishment that I've ever heard from Vomir, or any other waller for that matter. Limited to twenty-five copies. Comes in jewel-case with uniform Order of the HNW cover design and with Order of the HNW emblem sticker. Each booklet contains a written piece penned by the artist (see above).***

***SOLD OUT***

Prices:
Single Volume - £5 (UK) - £5.50 (EU) - £6 (US)
Both Volumes - £9 (UK) - £10 (EU) - £11 (US)

paypal to orderofthehnw@gmail.com

Vol. I - A View From Nihil 'Triumph of the Broken Will'

We live in a decadent civilisation which robs us of our ability to shape and define our destiny and hence robs us of our spirit and identity. Western man has been gradually separated from his natural environment, his spirituality, his fellow man and finally from himself. Life has been reduced to an animalistic base as we drift from one empty satisfaction of technological convenience to another.

Art and culture no longer carry any grand or heroic ideals but rather seek to stimulate base emotions through ugly and abstract forms. Art and culture rarely serve as little more than distractions from the torment of perception – no longer seeking to order, interpret or explain the world around us but preferring instead to excuse it, replace it or deny it with an increasingly less interactive and more atomised and abstract alternative.

We were promised technological salvation but have been led to an air-conditioned hell by the false idols of progress who sought to remove the struggle from existence, not stopping to think what would be left. For life in essence is struggle and the will to participate in that struggle and make it one's own is the most sacred characteristic of man.

The Harsh Noise Wall is the soundtrack to our spiritually vacuous and culturally bankrupt age. There is no struggle here. There is no spirit. No personality. No society. There is nowhere else to go. Nowhere to progress. This is the end product. This is the end.

AVFN - AWMCQ

***First full-length concept piece I've done for a while. AVFN continues its simultaneous condemnation and veneration of all that is modern with three meditations of hate combining grinding static, off-time static rhythms and bass-heavy power-drone. Fifty-seven minutes of true harsh enlightenment. Limited to twenty-five copies. Comes in jewel-case with uniform Order of the HNW cover design and with Order of the HNW emblem sticker.Each booklet contains a written piece penned by the artist (see above).***

***SOLD OUT***

Prices:
Single Volume - £5 (UK) - £5.50 (EU) - £6 (US)
Both Volumes - £9 (UK) - £10 (EU) - £11 (US)

paypal to orderofthehnw@gmail.com

HNW as anti-music

When I was younger I always liked to tape over old tapes with music I liked. Initially this had a mainly practical purpose, i.e. to make my self a copy of an album a friend had loaned which I couldn't afford to buy myself, but while doing so I began to fantasise about how one day someone, my ma or maybe even someone who lived in that house after us, might find one of those tapes and pop it into their tape deck expecting to hear a compilation of Christmas numbers but in fact get blasted with the opening bars of 'Mouth for War'. I thought it would blow their minds and it gave me a smug sense of satisfaction to think that I was replacing Bing Crosby with Phil Anselmo - literally replacing something I didn't like with something I did like.

I've continued this practice right up until today. Usually I put to tape stuff that I think would sound good on tape or tapes that are long sold-out but which I can still download - like the early Moss stuff. But recently I started to put to tape random HNW that I got from Jliat's random Java HNW generator. Again this was just for practical purposes - I wanted some new, long, boring HNW but I didn't want to have to switch my computer on every time I wanted to hear it. But as I was dubing the tape (in real time) and listening to the wall I started thinking again about the process of erasing someone elses music. I thought HNW was perfect for this purpose. It felt like an act of destruction but at the same time it felt like I was snatching that tape from the claws of pop music and bringing it under the cold dominion of HNW. A small victory, but a victory none the less. The impulse came over me to do this with all my tapes and so I sat and copied over each shitey second hand pop/rock tape and used or unused blank tape that I had, only stopping short of Black Metal and Noise. When I went to work the next day I found a stash of old tapes down by the Hi-Fi and reclaimed them for the cause as well. I sat and recorded over dozens of tapes of varying lengths and quality in real-time, completely engrossed in the process of wanton destruction of music in the name of HNW. What made the act all the more fulfilling was that each wall was randomly generated and so there was no ego involved on my part. There was no way I could control or alter the wall. All I could do was click on the Java link and press record on the tape deck. No control over the wall meant no decision making on my part and no decision making meant no worrying about the sound quality on the shitey recycled tape, nor did I worry about it being too long or too short because all it had to do was fill the tape and drown-out second after second of sickening pop nonsense with thick, black, suffocating wall. Like an oil spill in an aquarium.

So now I've got a stack of random HNW tapes of various qualities and lengths, what do I do with them? Keep them and listen to them, give them to a friend or throw them in the bin? Personally I don't think it matters. The point was the process of destruction/creation - annexing territory in the war against music. Tapes belong to noise, not pop or rock music. Long ago they neglected the medium, its ours now. Besides, creation is so much more satisfying when it is so heavily dependent on, maybe even defined by, the destruction of someone else's creation. Maybe I'll start leaving these lying around in bars and cafes for people to find. Most people won't have tape decks these days and most will get chucked-out but the remote possibility that one person might find one listen to it and try and work out why someone decided to tape over an Oasis album with a wall of harsh static appeals to me. I wonder will they understand that each tape has become a statement oppositional nihilism - akin to a spoiled ballot or a piece of graffiti. But it probably won't happen. Even if everybody who made HNW began erasing every second-hand tape that they could get their hands on from friends, family, second-hand music stores etc., it would still be just a drop in the ocean of music tapes out there. Nevertheless, I reckon its a worthwhile effort. If HNW is to last it has to survive whatever time has to throw at it. Durability and numbers are the only protection against time. I would hate in the centuries to come, after western civilisation has collapsed and people are rediscovering what it was like to be around in the late 20th/early 21st centuries all they could find were Spice Girls tapes. I think we should try and make the physical presence of HNW as monolithic a statement as the sound is itself. Like a standing stone, a statement imposed on time and space. I'd like to think out of whatever is recovered, whatever lasts, something might say we were here and we hated it and we tried to work against it in our way.