The prevailing narrative around Chopping Machine — which starts with the sound of… wait for it… a machine, chopping — is that it’s not indicative of the band that Munich’s Colour Haze would become. Its sound, not unlike its cover art, is darker, more aggressive at points and more obscure genre-wise, its lineup is different, and it lacks the crucial patience and warmth that would come to the band over time. Recorded in winter in early 1995 and released later that year through David Records — though I recall reading somewhere the pressing was self-financed — it is exceedingly rare in the physical space and has never been properly reissued, even as a curio for those who’ve become Colour Haze fans since. As Colour Haze do not shy generally from remasters, reissues, reworked versions and so on, the abiding message is that it’s not a thing they’re dying for people to hear beyond the bootleg versions already out there on the internet.

Fair enough. The band at this point was comprised of guitarist/vocalist Stefan Koglek, bassist Christian “Wonna” Wiesner (who sings lead on “Chosen Way”) and drummer Tim Höfer (later of Ugh!). Koglek and Wiesner were bandmates at the time in the gothy, punky, noisy cult outfit Organized Noise, of whom Wiesner was a founding member, and would feature together on that band’s 1996 outing, Same, but it seems that lineup didn’t last, and Koglek would of course move in a different direction over the coming years. At eight songs and a 60-minute runtime, Chopping Machine is for sure a product of the peak CD era, and listening to Wiesner‘s punch of bass in the 14-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “Subversive” — which does have some violin later, if you’re looking for connections to later Colour Haze — I can’t help but be reminded that these songs were coming together just about a year after Primus released Pork Soda. The bounce in “Why Don’t You” and the closing title-track make this relevant, but on the whole, Colour Haze seemed to be searching for something more post-punk and atmospheric rather than quirk for its own absurdist sake.

But songs like “Mud” and the nine-minute Mudhoney-strumming skronkfest “Dirt” carry a more cacophanous impulse, and are pretty raw in terms of presentation. It is a sound reflective of the time it was made, but is not at all lacking aesthetic value, particularly three decades of hindsight later. The aggression behind the push of “Chosen Way” as Wiesner and Koglek share vocal duties gives a sense of what their chemistry might have become had the band continued on this path, but at the same time, the impulse toward extended craft in “Subersive,” “Dirt” and “God’s Eyes” can be seen as indicative now of some of where their songwriting was headed, and though it’s the shortest song on the album, the penultimate “Sometimes” has a kind of proto-desert lean, not quite fully embracing the post-Kyuss style that would take hold in the European underground toward the end of the ’90s, informing the work of Colour Haze, Dozer, 13eaver and other landmark bands as Gen-X post-grunge heavy rock found its initial shape, but riding the groove of its rhythm guitar in a way that feels like it’s speaking to something similar, even as the surrounding context is different tonally and, to an extent, in terms of mood.

The CD’s liner reveals that the album was made in five days with the mix and master taking place thereafter, and among the thanks listed is Günther Koglek at Fender Deutschland, Stefan‘s father, who is also a singer-songwriter and photographer. I don’t know in what capacity the elder Koglek might’ve helped the fledgling band at the time, but family support is always good to have. Still, there’s no getting around the rough edges of who Colour Haze were at this point, in composition and execution alike, and I’m not sure there needs to be. The trio as they are here bask in the racket they’re making, pushing themselves from the outset (or near to it, after that machine intro) on “Subversive,” in both physical and creative terms. The resulting sound is weird, dug-in, and individualized, which is to say it has a persona of its own despite being reflective of its moment as noted. Much of the back half of “Subersive” is instrumental following a watery-vocal chorus in the midsection, and while it seems to be plotted as it moves toward the eventual incorporation of the aforementioned violins, the sense of Colour Haze undertaking an exploration is still palpable, to and through that string-inclusive crescendo, which was co-arranged by Koglek.

And of course, that exploratory aspect would become crucial to the band in the years that followed, as the lineup solidified around Koglek and the band pushed forward in sound and songwriting. Expressively in terms of shaping songs and as a singer, Koglek‘s developing his voice was a defining aspect of this, but Chopping Machine has more than academic value for fans of Colour Haze‘s subsequent work. It reminds that some roads need to be traveled to know where they lead, and that creativity is something shaped over the course of a lifetime, that one doesn’t need to be locked in a mode or informed only by influences from the time they’re a teenager. Gradually, over a period of years playing live and seeing the encouragement of a growing audience, Colour Haze became a different kind of band than Chopping Machine finds them, but their first album is an undeniably important step along that line. They might have evolved into another band entirely.

I’ll note that, 14 years after the fact, this is still the most money I’ve ever paid for a compact disc, and I’ve not once regretted the shelling-out in that time. No, it’s not the one I reach for when I want to listen to Colour Haze, and I’m not about to make a rallying cry for a reissue unless the general audience demand is there, but it is the first showing of what became one of the European heavy underground’s most essential progressions, and most of all, I’m glad it is what it is in no small part because of the lessons the band would draw from it and what it ultimately led to their being.

As always, I hope you enjoy.

—

I had neither the will nor the time to close out the week last Friday. I was engaged in a snitty back and forth with a representative of the school district who, while neither knowing nor caring about our situation, was busy denying our parental rights to participate in our daughter’s placement for the rapidly-approaching school year. Rumor has it I hurt some feelings. Seems like the very least I could do in the situation, which is ongoing. Somehow this child will be educated.

We had a meeting with our advocate — not quite a lawyer, not quite not — earlier this week, who has been working subsequently on the complaint we’ll likely file with the state by the end of today or Monday, unless The Patient Mrs. can work something out lawyerly between now and then. Then I think it’s mediation, which is likely another couple weeks. So we’ll probably be into October by the time we’re sending her to school, but honestly, we’ve wasted three years sending her to a building that’s done little more for her than reinforce noncompliance and care about nothing so much as that, and I’m not sure what difference another month might make. She’ll read more at home anyhow. She continues to ask where she’s going to go to school.

I could go on here, but I’m exhausted thinking about it.

The Patient Mrs.’ semester is impending as well, and that’s always an adjustment. She’s Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday this term, with, as she put it “sometimes Thursday,” which reminded me of the way ‘y’ is a vowel. She’s teaching fewer classes but is the head of her department now, so has an entirely different kind of wrangling to do. I have no doubt she will learn, grow and be an effective leader, because that’s who she is. We’ll be here when she gets home.

I wish I could say I was sorry to see the summer going, but I’m not. It’s been difficult and unpleasant. We haven’t gone swimming every day, and I wouldn’t say The Pecan is significantly less burned out than she was in June in no small part because ‘school’ has been ever-present in the house and, seemingly, in her mind, though she isn’t going to talk about feelings basically at all beyond letting her opinions and preferences be known. The days have generally been long, and whether it’s some draining event or the boredom of a non-day’s dragging, I’ve felt both anxious and stagnant. Three months-plus of hurry-up-and-wait later, I’m still hurrying and waiting. It has sucked, and not knowing what Fall will bring also sucks.

I wish I was going to Emissions From the Monolith. I wish I was going to Ripplefest Texas. I wish I had money to fly to either or a car to drive in. Full of wishes.

If you’re wondering, yes, I’m starting a catalog series with Colour Haze. I think it’ll take me through the end of the year to get through all their stuff, especially if I do the live albums, but I can easily think of much worse ways to spend my Friday mornings writing. Like Sabbath and Fu Manchu, it’s more than a bit me treating myself to a thing, in this case, engaging with the discographical context of one of my favorite bands. Escapism? You betcha.

That should do it for me, I think I could do a Zelda update, but it’s pretty short since I haven’t had a ton of time to play, but started a playthrough of Ocarina of Time‘s Master Quest in Ship of Harkinian. The Pecan has one too, and has a game in The Minish Cap going on the arcade, and was playing Twilight Princess but I think broke it with the moon jump, which will happen.

Enjoy your weekend, whatever you’re up to. Fuck fascism, fuck genocide, fuck the school district of Parsippany, New Jersey, which, yes, I say with the acknowledgement that my wife is on the Board. Fuck them anyway. I could go on.

I always drop the merch link here, but haven’t actually done merch in at least a year. Let me know if you’re interested in some older or newer designs. If not, that’s fine too.

FRM.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

 

The thing wasn’t just that I’d been priced out of my league by copies of Colour Haze‘s debut CD, Chopping Machine — I’d never even seen it for sale — online, in a store or at their merch table, either at Roadburn or at Emissions from the Monolith, when they played that. I mean, there’s “out of print” and then there’s “gone,” and Chopping Machine was most definitely the latter.

And then it wasn’t. Holding a permanent position on the shortlist of my favorite bands — there are four and usually a rotating fifth slot; ask me about it after I’ve had a few beers sometime (please!) — Colour Haze is a regular on my nightly eBay search rounds, and I couldn’t believe it was true when I saw the copy of Chopping Machine for sale. I had to look up what “NOS” meant. “New Old Stock.” The thing was supposed to be in perfect condition.

I wasn’t the only one who wanted it, but you’ve got to figure the field is pretty small. You’ve got Colour Haze fans. Then you’ve got those Colour Haze fans who use eBay. Then you’ve got the ones who search for the band at just the right time, then those willing to pay stupid prices for what — if the band actively didn’t want to disown it — probably would’ve been reissued already on guitarist/vocalist Stefan Koglek‘s label, Elektrohasch Schallplatten. I always imagine there’s one other nerd out there opposing me on these things. Just one guy (sorry ladies, but I credit you with more practicality; it has to be a dude) who wants all the same stuff I do. He beats me sometimes. This time, I wasn’t going to lose.

Warning was issued to The Patient Mrs. days ahead of time. It might have been a full week, or at least the six-day length of the auction. She rolled her eyes, wisely buried her head in the sand. It wasn’t going to go for more than student loans cost. It wasn’t going to go for more than gas for a month costs. It was going to be a lot for a CD, but I wasn’t going to let it get away, never having seen it before, and I felt she needed to know that.

Chopping Machine is 60 minutes long. I paid a dollar a minute, plus $16. I admit it’s too much. I know I could’ve just downloaded it, or looked it up on YouTube, or whatever. I could’ve done that. But then I wouldn’t own it. It wouldn’t be mine. It’s the same story as always: Owning it is half the appeal.

It’s more than I ever wanted to pay for a CD. More by half than I’m generally willing to spend for something rare. But you know what? Fuck it. The fact of the matter is this: I don’t have kids. My most major expenses are beer, wine and takeout. Shit, I don’t even pay rent. I’m 30 years old and (for a few months more, anyway) I live with my mother-in-law. I work a full-time job that I made more money doing five years ago, I have whole days where I don’t talk to anyone except my dog and last night when I came home and found the package waiting for me from Munich, it was only to drop said dog off on my way to the emergency room to see my mother, who — whoops — mixed codeine cough medicine and vicodin and didn’t remember why she was hazy when she woke up from her nap this afternoon. So fuck it. You’re god damned right I’m paying $76 for a CD. What else have I got? It’s Colour Haze or heroin. Comfort’s gotta come from somewhere.

What was I supposed to do, not buy it, agonize over not having bought it and then wait seven years for it to show up again and wind up paying twice as much later? Screw that. And whatever, the album isn’t that good. I knew it wouldn’t be. That’s not the point. The point is it’s mine. I give the band kudos for opening with the 14:25 semi-jam “Subversive,” but other than that, it’s pretty rudimentary post-grunge noise rock — too aggressive to give anything to indicate the brilliance that would come once Koglek calmed down a bit and replaced the rhythm section. I like that about it. I like the fact that it’s something that’s been kept hidden, a relic despite the readily available digital presence. Hell, I did my time chasing those ghosts.

Give me the real thing — I’m apparently willing to pay for it — and gawd knows I spend enough hours with mp3s on promo downloads. Every label these days, including Elektrohasch (my heart broke as I followed the link to the new Ararat record and saw jpegs of the liner and cover art), sends downloads, so I’m not short on fodder for my iTunes. Let me hold a CD. I promise I’ll give it the best home it can have, and while everyone else in the world, except that one other doofus on eBay, has abandoned the format in favor of vinyl, I’m more than happy to appreciate the castoffs.

Speaking of, if anyone knows where I might find a copy of Colour Haze‘s second album, Seven, from 1998, hit me up. Now that I have the first one, I’m in the market to see where they went from here before the genius really kicked in full-throttle.