Video!!!!!

White Dog video "A Forest" created by the brilliant 

Francesco De Gallo -  Hobo Cult/Hobo Cubes/Moduli TV.

WHITE DOG - A Forest from Moduli TV on Vimeo.

More Reviews

White Dog - Harvestman [Prairie Fire - 2010]
The SK-1 was pretty much one of the last keyboards manufactured by Casio that was cool.  Along with its more sophisticated cousin, the SK-5, the SK-1 made sampling technology affordable back in the mid-80s.  I still have mine from way-back-when which I bought at the K-Mart I was the cleaning person for.  Still works like a charm...  Of course the one other cool thing about the SK-1 was it's tone-building engine which I don't think any other synth had... White Dog is a noise project from Canada, and this CDr release does feature an SK-1, with contact mikes and field recordings.  And as such, you really wouldn't know it without looking at the back of the sleeve. 
There's some amazing sounds here that make me wonder how they manage to produce from such basic equipment.  The whole recording sounds like it could've been performed outside somewhere.  (In a largely rural place like Canada, anything is possible though...)
This release is limited to 65 copies, so this may be hard to find.  But if you're a big fan of Wolf Eyes (come to think of it, that name...), it's probably worth looking for.
Lawrence J. Patti

White Dog/Gomeisa - Split [Prairie Fire label - 2010]
What’s the best way to kill a throbbing headache? Aspirine’s probably the most conventional solution. Personally, however, I find the best way to get rid of it is by knocking it up another notch. Nothing makes a searing headache feel better than blasting some particularly painful harsh noise at full volume. Some of my most ecstatic and hallucinatory listening I’ve experienced while high on throbbing migraines. Driving home from work and enjoying a massive headache just the other day, I pop in the ruckus that is the White Dog/Gomeisa split. And immediately feel better. The first release on the, as we know by now, excellent Prairie Fire label sees White Dog (Chris Jacques) and Gomeisa (Cole Peters) contributing to fill a C32 of sounds raw and rowdy. Both projects are fairly new to the scene, having each debuted in 2009, but both have already released a good number of tapes and CDs, working mainly in drone (White Dog) and HNW (Gomeisa), respectively. White Dog I’m new to, but Gomeisa I already know intimately, so, at least regarding the B side of the tape, I definitely have some high expectations. Thankfully, these are met – beyond met.
Gomeisa’s material seems to predate the project’s shift towards HNW, and while Peters excels at creating massively compelling harsh noise walls, he does no poor job of this either. Blood Letting is a tape side full of energetic, vibrant harsh noise with all your typical high squeals, low end crunches and relentless audio pollution. It’s done stylishly though, elegantly, with as much grace as Gomeisa’s HNW material. The track sounds composed, but not contrived; there’s a clear, definite sense of direction; a greater plan; a Hand of Godmeisa that guides. Bad puns aside, however, it really must be said that the talent and craftsmanship so evident from the recording are truly admirable, and make Blood Letting truly a blast to listen to. On top of this, it’s interesting to hear Peters’ great feeling for texture outside of a HNW-setting; while the Gomeisa track is too far from static and unchanging enough to qualify as any kind of walls, there’s some exhilarating bits of crunch and crackle here that would have warranted C32s of their own.
The White Dog side, unfortunately, is far less engaging. Samsara is something of a soporific affair that hangs uncomfortably in the void between drone and ambient. Most of all, it sounds like three minutes of material stretched to cover fifteen; drawn-out waves of sound drift in and out without evoking any sense of interest or boredom, instead floating by unnoticed and uncared for. Modest streams of static and hiss sometimes politely perch on top of the low bass rumble, but they do little to add excitement. Samsara leaves me ice cold; the track is detached in a way that it neither seems to carry any emotions of itself, nor evokes any in the listener, unless you count yawning and checking your watch emotions, of course (you don’t).
Ultimately, the White Dog/Gomeisa stands as a slightly odd pairing. Both stylistically and qualitatively the sides are far apart, with the A side offering slightly too mediocre, too detached drone, while the B side has excellent, even exhilarating harsh noise. Just for that excellent B side, fortunately, this is already worth picking up. Add to that the tape’s excellent presentation, courtesy of the quality Prairie Fire label, and the White Dog/Gomeisa split stands as a valuable addition to any noise enthusiasts’s collection.
Sven Klippel

New Reviews

White Dog, “Autumnal Phase” CDr

December 7, 2010

By Curran Faris

Northern merchant of death drones White Dog unfurls “Autumnal Phase,” a live recording from 2009. “Autmnal Phase” feels a bit more subdued and perhaps less sonically varied from past efforts, but that doesn’t detract from this disc’s effectiveness.  Alien frequencies slowly oscillate through a swirling vortex of reverb and delay.  The peaks and valleys start off fairly slow, as if you were cruising over a great plateau on the bottom of the ocean.  Void of life, the ground littered only with the bones of whales picked clean by carrion.  Gradually, the floor starts to incline, descending faster and faster in a dizzying darkness, at once suffocating and cavernous and you become lost amidst an underwater mountain range.  Decaying tape loops crackle and fuzz as a black cloud of low-end nastiness starts to writhe around the 20-minute mark until it begins to swallow everything whole.  Here White Dog’s synths get nice and blown out, sounding like you’re inside a great underwater creature, like you can feel the black blood pumping through the arteries surrounding you.  The beast dives, and the pressure begins to build.  The sound gets blurrier, smeared together with flecks of white and red.  Finally, the bottom falls out, and few lone squalls slowly disappear back into the abyss.  This is noise that requires patience, for both the listener and the maker.  Definitely worth it.

Wintage Records & Tapes
7/10

White Dog, s/t tape

November 11, 2010

By Kirk Van Husen

This self-titled tape from White Dog comes from the north, those great purveyors of dark noise at the Prairie Fire label. The fact that this tape has such a spartan feel, both in artwork and title, indicates that White Dog is ready to throw down some serious business.  And he does.
Chugging machines oscillate with buried tones half-heard.  The machines shift; the tones become more apparent, still in a dark harmony together.  A lonesome obtuse guitar emerges in the left channel near the end with the electronic cycling reaching the peak.  On “The Return Of The Light,” White Dog imparts a near-hopeful quality to the the mix, but only barely.  Sounds are imbued with watery hiss, faraway echo, a drill-tone; all manner of pulsations and blurts come together to form a strange, cohesive whole.
Flipping sides, a distant alien cyclone rages at a controlled pace on “My Other Car Is A Bomb.”  A singularly bold synth arrives, similarly snowy.  It’s from a great distance the storm is observed, with occasional squalls venturing within reach.  “A Forest” wraps things up nicely.  A contemplative, harpsichord-like guitar motif is plucked, chiming bells resound amid the smattering of voices and other remote found sounds.  Although subdued, an uncertainty, or a dread hangs in air.
An impressive release from White Dog, some deliciously strange and wintry noise.  This is an edition of only fifty tapes, still available at the label website.  Get one before they’re gone.

Prairie Fire Tapes
9/10