Nice Words For The Little Pig



Here are links to 3 reviews for the Spectrum Spools LP “Petit Cochon” that we at stabUdown wholeheartedly approve.

Resident Advisor
The Quietus
Boston Hassle



So very tired of that one picture of me circulating on every fucking web site.
If you feel so inclined to put my picture up with your article referring to me as a “techno noise project” then at least use this approved photo.
Thank and Fuck you,
James A. Donadio




Prostitutes – Psychedelic Black

Psychedelic Black by Prostitutes first came to my attention back in March as I happened to accidentally stumble upon a piece about it’s recording on a blog. I immediately headed over to the stabUdown website and decided to keep an eye out for a release, five months later and here is the finished article. This is a very limited pressing – only 100 hand numbered copies are available so I didn’t hang about long and neither should you.
It’s described on the website as “8 tracks that orbit the center label like rusted out satellites launched by a dead civilization” and I think that gives a pretty good description of what’s contained within the beautifully silk screened jacket.
The first few tracks immediately put me in mind of the kind of ferric experiments undertaken by early electronic pioneers such as Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire – all blunted pulses, grimy reverb and queasy synth drones. But the album quickly progresses beyond these influences and throws in a stripped down electro-Krautrock jam (Get Off The Streets), some post-punk/new wave tinged pop (Flipped Pieces of Coin) and even a new age synth miniature, complete with wind chimes (Rogue Elephants).
This is a record that was most definitely worth the wait and should be grabbed from the label shop quickly whilst they’re still available. I’d dearly love to see this one given a digital release too as it really should be heard by more people. I suspect those initial hundred copies will disappear rapidly once the word spreads.


Over the course of the last decade, few American cities have contributed as greatly to the development of noise, drone and neo-kosmische experimentation as Cleveland, Ohio. The list of musicians its greater metropolitan sprawl has coughed up represents a veritable murderers’ row. There is, of course, Emeralds and the trio’s many related projects, from Outer Space and Mist to Mark McGuire and Steve Hauschildt solo endeavors. But of equal significance is Sam Goldberg (and his Radio People project), Bee Mask, the Tusco/Embassy scene, fluxmonkey, Skin Graft and the pricelessly named Moth Cock.

Yet another artist who belongs to this impressive list is Prostitutes, the alias of producer Jim Donadio, whose latest effort Psychedelic Black is one of the finest iterations of the technoise/DIY techno impulse you’re likely to hear all year. (And yes, we haven’t yet reached the final quarter, but the music is that good.) Released on his own stabUdown imprint, the album will definitely appeal to fans of the dark and sullen productions of Pye Corner Audio and Ekoplekz. In other words, those who crave their beat science brewed in a dank basement, smeared in dystopian vibes and outfitted with the kind of ominously pulsating waves, squiggles and hums heard in nearly every sci-fi flick made in the ’80s.

But there also exist several prominent differences, the fleshing-out of which will help you appreciate just how striking Psychedelic Black truly is. Whereas Ekoplekz and Pye Corner Audio make heavy use of radiophonic’s spectral haze and rub-a-dub decay, Donadio obliterates any palpable sense of atmosphere, as if he constructed these tracks inside a laboratory’s ultra-high vacuum. At the boundaries of every sound particle, rhythmic component and novel effect employed lurks a negative space that is pitch black and utterly empty. There is no afterlife-as-reverb here, only the void’s dreaded silence. Not only does this uncanny quality result in a feeling of claustrophobia that lingers for the record’s duration, it thrusts Donadio’s skeletal grooves right to the cusp of the stereoscape (i.e. right in your goddamn face).

Then again, groove is probably the wrong word, insinuating as it does a certain degree of elasticity in the funk and syncopation departments. Donadio’s aesthetic, in contrast, isn’t terribly elastic; it’s brutish (and far more so than Pye Corner Audio and even the brawny Ekoplekz). His stuff pounds (“You Must Not Relent”), it stomps (“Get Off the Streets”) it thuds (“Shaking Single Engined Planes”), it scrapes (“Blood Bamboo Kid”) and it spits (“The Steady Sale of Junk”). Buried deep inside these tracks is the producer’s roots as a bassist in a slew of noise-rock outfits throughout the ’90s and early ’00s. And like so many American noise rockers who eventually discovered techno, Donadio’s embrace of raw, primitive beats was initially sparked by Six Finger Satellite, a group pivotal in introducing their fanbase to the clanging motorik rhythms of vintage industrial and Neue Deutsche Welle. As a matter of fact, Psychedelic Blackopens with a mutant laser-throb that wouldn’t sound at all out of place on 6FS’sMachine Cuisine Companion Cassette, a classic in synth rock exploration first released in ’94.

Something else Donadio just might’ve inherited from his heroes is a mischievous knack for inducing listener discomfort. In addition to the claustrophobia mentioned earlier (very 6FS), a goodly amount of the textures and frequencies he employs feeloff: too coarse or too tinny or too muffled, in a my-speaker-cones-are-fucked kind of way. This is quite apparent on the drone-based pieces “To See the Guns Dying @ Sunset” and “Rogue Elephants.” Moody and alien sounding, both titles serve as strategically placed interludes on what is—in addition to everything else it has going for it—an excellently programmed album from beginning to end.

Words /
Published /
Thu, 23 August 2012


By Brad Rose

It’s been a while since I’ve written a review for FD, but when this record came through and I gave it a listen, I knew it wasn’t ever going to leave the house.  Prostitutes is the moniker of Cleveland, Ohio’s Jim Donadio and Psychedelic Black comes straight through a bend in spacetime, from nothing, into your unsuspecting ear canals. Donadio has gone straight primitive with his first proper LP and ended up creating one of my favorite records of the year so far.

Starting off with “Shaking Single Engine Planes,” Psychedelic Black slowly lowers you into its matte labyrinth. It’s like a black hole. Single notes are shot from a cannon but quickly swallowed back into a central matrix while other electronics swirl and buzz, making everything feel exquisitely claustraphobic. The simple throb that underlines “You Must Not Relent,” become servo motors, fueled by electricity, trying to come alive. Strategically placed cuts of tribal-infused tabla samples are a warning that the whole experiment is about to go off the rails. It’s such a simple addition, but it pushes the tune over the top and highlights just how damn good Donadio is.

Even when Prostitutes breaks out into more melodic territory, like the sound of the loneliest dancefloor on “Flipped Pieces of Coin” or the warped ether of “Rogue Elephants,” Donadio’s compositions still have an air of desolation to them. The former is pushed ahead by a straightforward bassline and warped rhythms that are barely rhythms. Synth leads sail on top, trying to paint a pretty facade. These harmonic elements can’t hide the crumbling, hollow core though. Everything pulses ahead in a linear way – like this is how it’s supposed to be – but it’s just a picture. Embracing this dichotomy is what makes Psychedelic Black so compelling.

Somehow this music manages to be both futuristic (in a very dystopian, post-Snowcrash way) and primordial at the same time. Donadio has stripped things down so much that he’s moved forward and unlocked something new and entirely his own. This music exists in a world where you don’t need air to breathe – it’s all been given away anyway, so just find a dark, crusty corner on the dancefloor to collapse.





‘Ello Guv’nr

Some very kind words from Boomkat on the new LP.
Check it here.
If you live in the states there are still a few copies available through the SHOP


Written up

Included in a piece about people that do things with machines.



Darkness on the Edge Of Obscurity

Piece that ran in the 5.25.11 issue of Cleveland Scene magazine.