self release / DL / 2023
Those who classified The Bug as a game for everything, when he was clearly undergoing a butterfly metamorphosis, may now regret having lost their vigilance. Kevin was a frequent headliner of major festivals for years, masses of people went to his shows, not just those with a hellish background (like me). The music he created was quite danceable, even taking into account that at times it rattled around the brown note ;)
Of course, when one wanted to check if the headphones were up to the task, one reached for a blindly drawn track from his extensive portfolio and verified whether Mr. Heinrih Hertz approved of the equipment, or if one looked further….
Despite the fact that in an interview with Uncarved.org named quite gracefully “The Psychopatology of Kevin Martin” he said that the project was intended to “completely exploit the soundsystem” which probably constantly exposed both organizers and equipment all the way from cords to convulsively vibrating membranes, the distorted “Pressure” twisted the bodies of a whole cross-section of the audience on the nightclub floors as if nothing ever happened. With his “Machines,” The Bug, reverses the metamorphosis – that is, he does what seems impossible in nature! Or maybe he’s turning the screws a bit? Or does he want to penetrate some mystical wall with his head? Like Doctor Frankenstein…
He returns to his roots, to the industrial fuckery of Techno Animal, to the experimentation of God, as if he were simply returning home. He turns the key in the lock, presses on the handle, and opens the mortared door with a grinding sound. When he turns on the light, cockroaches scamper around the corners. In the middle of the room there is a steel table, on which the body parts lie. A dark burgundy liquid drips onto the dirty grey flooring. Dub – the spine, Reaggae – the head, Dancehall – the hands, Industrial – the arms, Hip-Hop – the neck, Techno – the head… Everything is still pulsing with life, warm and noticeably steaming as Martin constructs his beast. Through the window you can see the branches jerking in the gusty wind, lightnings are striking the nearby roofs. It’s alive! It’s alive!
Sometimes artists deconstruct their own works, to induce transformation, having a sacred right to do so, but what has been fucked around here is nonetheless a vivisection rather than a deconstruction. An operation on living tissue, an experiment that sounds as if all the tunes from the albums that preceded it were overlaid on top of each other, herded into one enclosure, and forced into all sorts of depravity acts. A suit has been sewn for the Buffalo Bill, and Kevin will get away with it, because he is a musician with a capital M. Because, besides the fact that he likes to put a stick in an anthill, which I totally understand and respect a lot, he can also lead a coherent and profound narrative.
released August 25, 2023
Marta Podoska