Mandragora Records
P.O. Box 219
Greenfield, MA 01302
Paradise Camp 23

46:11 min. CDR

1. Like A Duck In A Noose [mp3]

Single epic length track of HEAVY neutron star spacedoom, ear-splitting electronics,
nauseating noise, and subliminal hypnosis. Essential preparation for the next full-length
installment. Puts a firecracker in your licorice, straight gangsta mack.


Crucial - 3/17/06
"Another private-press disc from the Mandragora imprint, this time serving up a single epic 46 minute track entitled "Like A Duck In A Noose", the sound of stars falling from the sky and huge insects cruising through space. This is heavily drugged murk, an ultraheavy drone feast that channels SKULLFLOWER and EARTH via Japanese heavy psych rage. Oscillator violence and Cthulhian sinewaves invade your skull like barbed wire, while a wall of amplifiers thunder incessantly. Utterly stones acid sludge drone. Highly recommended to fans of all things powerdrone, SUNN O))), EARTH, SKULLFLOWER, TOTAL, ROBOT VS. RABBIT, etc. Comes packaged in a full color glossy sleeve with full disc face art. "

Aural Innovations #24 - June 2003
"Solitaire consists of a single 46 minute track titled "Like A Duck In A Noose". The music is high intensity right out of the starting gate. Steamroller drones roam along the aural spacewaves as pulsating and bleeping alien electronics do their meteor shower dance. The drones form the foundation of the piece and the frenetic and continually developing electronics provide the color, character, and even give a sense of thematic development. After several minutes things get darker and even a bit eerie as strange voice samples are introduced and the volume and noise levels are kicked up a notch. The drones and space electronics are always at the forefront, though at various points we have screaming acid guitar solos, ripping theramin sounding waves and a varied sonic stew of cosmic shock therapy. It's an ultra cool blend of alien space, psychedelic freakout, noise and sound-art elements. Fans of Hal McGee, Mental Anguish, and a slew of other creative sound artists will love this. If you like totally freaked out exploratory cosmic craziness than step right this way, strap yourself in, and enjoy the ride. Those susceptible to motion sickness should proceed with caution." -- Jerry Kranitz - 5/23/03
"In the start, Solitaire sounds as if it's going to evolve into a great big rock opera, fiery dancers and all, but that moment never comes. Forty minutes and eleven seconds down the line and you're still kind of expecting everything to explode into a shroud of guitar solos and zealous, overexcited pop singers. But no. That never happens.
Solitaire is one track, "Like A Duck In A Noose," and that's it. A three-quarters-of-an-hour build up to something that never happens. And when the disc player reaches the end of the CD's data, you're left wondering - if nothing happened, then what did happen?
And that's fucking brilliant. This is about as noisy as you can get without crossing the line to Merzbow territory. Assorted soundclips are buried, mangled, in a dense marsh of guitar feedback and churning sonic experimentation. As the noise flows, the suspense intensifies. Builds. Builds. Builds.

Ends." -- Matt Shimmer

Dead Angel #57 (05/03)
"The devolved cats from Paradise Camp 23 are caught here assembling in the studio to concoct audio madness, all displayed on one long track (46:11) called "Like A Duck In A Noose." It makes an excellent companion piece to the live album mentioned earlier, and it would be interesting to know how much of it was recorded live and on the fly. There's plenty of things happening in the mix -- conversations mutating into gibberish, grinding sonic crunge, spaced-out efx, what frequently sound like transmissions from the outer rings of Saturn, and a constantly shifting landscape of near-demonic effects and samples. Given its length, the best way to experience the album is to submit to it -- throw it on, light a bowl, then lean back and let the carnival of sound wash over you like the shrieks and barks from the midway at a county fair in hell. When the trance sets in, don't hold the band responsible if your bowl catches fire and you fail to notice the house burning down." - 4/08/03
Paradise Camp 23 are quite comfortable hanging out in the Mandragora line up what with their strong affinity for psychadelic haze and heavily drugged murk. This 40 some odd minute release is packaged as one big homogenous block of green glowing space cheese, all funky with ergot and clammy with unease. It's a humourless drug jam basically which could easily be mistaken for a very low grade emulation of a San Francisco hosted Skullflower orgy. It's all about gratuitous effects usage, lots and lots of tremolo with extra distortion and delay pedals called in for overtime to help keep all that is recognizable at bay. Unfortunately, like any drug trip what goes up must come down and for those still waiting on the man, the crazed babble of some sweaty hairy dude freaking out is not necessarily all that entertaining for an extended period.
The problems with this disc (unlike like the previous Mandragora effort I received) are evenly split between technical half-assedness and low energy levels. The first thing the listener must accept is the AM radio through the dryer greyness that just takes over after the first half of the disc. The tonal nature of this release is pure cardboard which initially comes off as a little spooky but ends up about as juicy as a mouthful of stale crackers by the half way point. With so little variation on the overall tone and complete lack of energy to the mastering job, it becomes an exercise of will to stay awake right to the end and often the listener gets the feeling that whomever they were talking to on the other end of the phone has put down the receiver, walked away and promptly forgotten about them. The material itself steadily winds down in inspiration and movement, like the progenitors are getting tired and starting to focus far more on the bong passing by than the sounds coming from their pedal array. I've zero against getting blasted and going skronk happy believe me, I just don't automatically assume every jam is so amazing that it deserves wider distribution than my own stereo system. Leaving this as one immutable block of noise doesn't help much either since there be no skipping the less active bits if you are so inclined. This release literally should have been compressed down to a 7 or 8 minute track on a far wider collection culling the best bits from a summer of self-abuse and Paradise Camp 23's lack of self-control reduces what should have been a singularly great anecdote to just a draining conversation with a detox out-patient while waiting for the bus.
I do need to state that parts of this release are admittedly pretty cool, the first third of the disc in particular before half the party falls asleep with the radio hooked up to the envelope filter. When it's ON I feel like I am swaying with the hypnotic waves of heat given off by a British death rock / Japanese physchedelic hybrid. Paradise Camp 23 also sound like they might be a lot of fun live, at least as long as the stimulants kept them jumpy enough so that they neither hide behind their amps in fear or go nod off in a hammock somewhere. The circumstances under which this disc was recorded however suggest that someone cut the ketamine with baby laxitive and Valium. Skip this one and go straight to the Robot Vs. Rabbit to regain your faith." - moron

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