Welcome back to It Came from Bandcamp, the monthly horror show that finds us plumbing the depths and exploring the deep, dark recesses of the Bandcamp platform. We were pleased by the very positive reception for the column's debut last month and hope this one will prove to be a treat as well, particularly for those of you nursing Halloween hangovers.
For newcomers: Most of the works contained in this article are made in bad taste, often exhibiting offensive senses of humor and flying in the face of artistic standards. They aren't representative of Bandcamp, a site we value as a great place to exchange musical ideas, but are essentially flotsam in a cesspool that has formed there. Not all will get amusement from this; proceed at your own discretion:
A few people pointed out that we were remiss not to feature a release from Vortex of Crap last month, and for good reason — it has become the designated label for all music shitty, tasteless, and memetic. Its releases are essentially the cream of the crap and it's hard to imagine the bar for this standard being set any higher (or lower depending on how you want to look at it) than on the aptly titled Wilkommen to Meinen Anus! (Welcome to My Anus! for those non-German speakers). That's right, folks; this time we're coming as hard with the shit as we can right out the gates!
You're probably in need of some respite after that Vortex of Crap album. Consider the placement of this experimental industrial project from 15-year-old Washington artist Prophet an act of mercy. Clearly a fair amount of thought and care went into this and for what it is, it's not God-awful. Plus it just about satisfies this segment's outsider music quota.
Trash-rap from D.C. We can't tell you how disappointed we are that the art work for the embedded version of this album is anything but the close-up of a breast that is shown on the Bandcamp page. Who's to blame for this heinous act of censorship?! #FreeTheNipple
Lanza Manza is not only the wizard-hero the Bandcamp underground deserves; he's the wizard-hero it needs. While in the context of modern America's social mores, Mr. Manza's unrepentant banjo fuckery, homages to Shrek (The Green One), and long-form/Warholian sound experiments (such as the one above) can only be described as transgressive and as affronts to public decency, we've no doubt that his revolutionary antics will be commemorated by future generations of outsiders via epic folk songs and feast days.
Obligatory spooky thing for Halloween. Spoopiest drones you'll hear all year! We're calling it now: :^( > Kannon.