P.L.X.T.X

Note d’un chroniqueur de la Faust lors d’une ancienne conversation: « Hey mec ! Le seul truc que j’apprécie dans cette musique, c’est quand elle s’arrête. »

Je vous avais déjà parlé l’année dernière de cette immense claque dans la gueule que nous avait foutu ce mec de Houston. Il ‘a pas pris de vacances les pieds posés sur ses machines et a plutôt poussé le vice et la recherche de tous les moyens électroniques possibles pour pouvoir s’exprimer le plus cacophoniquement dans vos putains de fosses à miel.

Après avoir rayé pas mal de tympans avec du breakcore noise ultra fast, Bradley Münoz s’est affairé à produire des morceaux proches d’une veine gabber hollandaise et technocore. Heureusement on ne parlera pas ici de jumpstyle, ni de pilules smileys, ni d’electro-thrash-kéké-tuning mais bien d’electro-noise-expérimentale.

Mais plus encore, derrière ces cascades de bruits se cachent plusieurs messages engagés contrairement à la plupart des « DJ »-nérés obnubilés par le remuage de boules dans des minis-shorts imbibés de sueur au champagne.

Hum-hum (voix de vieil historien) Voyez-vous, P.L.X.T.X. éructe à la face de son auditeur, voyez-vous, il interpelle les consciences au travers de ses discours engagés reflétant par eux-mêmes la violence du monde, voyez-vous, sa musique est comme un miroir de sa propre vision pessimiste de la société, le bruit produit par le vecteur de son art est comme une métaphore du mutisme dans lequel il se sent enfermé, dans lequel il choisi de s’enfermer pour ne pas avoir à… mmh vous voyez ?

Hum-hum (voix normale) EN CLAIR, enfin une véritable performance trauma crânienne qui vaille le coup de boule dans le milieu électronique et ayant un but sans que le bruit et l’ultraviolence ne soit qu’une excuse pour agir comme un autiste.

Au delà de la dévastation sonique de certains morceaux on tombe sur des interludes plus calmes, contenant des messages cryptés enregistrés à l’envers donnant une consistance et une cohérence à cette orchestration barbare possédant un son plus froid, plus organique et virtuel que ses précédents actes.

Mêmes si vous ne pourrez toujours pas passer un disque de P.L.X.T.X. à la bar-mitsvah de votre beau-frère, vous aurez en votre possession une œuvre qui passe outre les conventions et s’affranchit au delà de votre avis bien-pensant.

Death Grips ? À côté de ça c’est Wal-mart pour les chemises dépareillées à moustache.


En quelques mots : brutal, énervé, possédé.
Note : 8+/10

Chroniqueur : Troène
- FAUST SCEPTIK, webzine music

Twenty – two year old P.L.X.T.X., songwriter / remix artist releases a new Harsh Digital Hardcore LP, which starts out by calmly sitting people down, forcibly suggesting they listen, moving them to speak.

The title Selective Mutism is justifiably chosen, given that the term Selective Mutism is defined as a disorder in which a person normally capable of speech is unable to speak in given situations or to specific people. Selective Mutism is associated with anxiety and may be an extreme form of social phobia. Through aggressive broken beats, harsh noise, and thrusting lyrics P.L.X.T.X’s LP Selective Mutism, inspires its audience to get up and speak, acknowledging their fear as a hurdle to be jumped.

Whether speech is the act of banging one’s head about to the heavy broken beats, or screaming the lyrics of the sometimes catchy chorus lines, Selective Mutism is a public request to throw out our fears for speech, as defined by the individual. For example, the catchy chorus of “War” by P.L.X.T.X. and Wolf Bush, tells us to reject projected conformities “break this chain” and project who I am, the chorus goes:
I will not be your cubicle slave
I will not be your globalist square
I will not be your conformist carbon copy
I will not be your televised Christian
I will not be your high school American dream
I will not be your sweet little girl
watch me break this chain
watch me spread my wings
watch me break this chain
watch me spread my wings

P.L.X.T.X’s first release Time is described, by French Music Critic, Faust Sceptik as “a well orchestrated défouloir (letting off steam); ultra-violent, ultra-dissonant, ultra-fast” giving it a rating of 4 out of 5. Since 2012 P.L.X.T.X. has produced Digital Hardcore music, worked with Wolf Bush (featured on OMGITM in 2012 with his single “VOOM”), NUIRE – François Delamarre, and has remixed songs by Haut&Court, Nuire, Dorian Electra x Wolf Bush, Giant Battle Monster. P.L.X.T.X. will be touring with the experimental-hardcore-punk group, MOTHS this winter. - BreakCoreWorld

P.L.X.T.X

Selective Mutism
self-released; 2013

3.8 out of 5

By Ted Rogen

Bradley Munoz is the brainchild behind P.L.X.T.X (pronounced “Pluto”) which creates disharmonious, ear-splitting sounds that come in the form of white noise, lead synths, various bleeps and blips that are often backed by industrial hard hitting beats that are unlike something you might hear from KMFDM on his latest releases entitled Selective Mutism. Munoz sings and yells quite aggressively over the already aggressive onslaught of sounds. His voice is often distorted adding more energy to the already kinetic music.

In addition to the hard-hitting songs, he also has a number of tracks that contain no percussive elements at all. For example, the second track “Target Locked” sounds like what a very busy extraterrestrial airport might sound like. Honestly, it sounds exactly like alien spacecraft are taking off and landing at an inter-universal space hub. “P.L.X.T.X ?WOLFBUSH – WAR” is one of the more substantial tracks of the album which had elements of Primal Scream’s XTRMNTR as well as some of the harder hitting tracks for Venetian Snares. There are also a couple of short super segments that last a little more than a minute that each has their own unique flavor. For instance, “Whiteout” which is one of the hardest songs on the album or “Fireflies” which is blur of vocals and dissonant synths that sound like pure confusion. The cyber punk “Casket” is a gritty, visceral song that makes aggression sound doable in the digital domain as Munoz creates chaotic, often disorienting beats, surrounded by buzz saws and jet engines. “Day I Die” tips its hat to classic industrial bands as well as Atari teenage riot as the steady kick, repetitive lyrics and white noise create an immersive experience that will leave most by the wayside who cannot get on board.

Perhaps the most baffling part of the album was the way Munoz decided to end it. It closes with the title track “Selective Mutism” which is the longest track on the album clocking in at 7:25 seconds. I was hoping Munoz would end the album with his strengths – his knack for creating heavy beats that are inflicted with turbulent noises. But instead he chose to go the experimental route and devote most of the seven minutes to manipulating vocal samples. For the most part this album is Digital Hardcore and will either have people heading for the doorway or completely absorbed. Overall this album, while a bit self-indulgent at times, offers an often original, unique listening experience that proves you don’t need a guitar and live instruments to create something that feels emotionally fueled and aggressive. - The Equal Ground

P.L.X.T.X

Selective Mutism
self-released; 2013

3.8 out of 5

By Ted Rogen

Bradley Munoz is the brainchild behind P.L.X.T.X (pronounced “Pluto”) which creates disharmonious, ear-splitting sounds that come in the form of white noise, lead synths, various bleeps and blips that are often backed by industrial hard hitting beats that are unlike something you might hear from KMFDM on his latest releases entitled Selective Mutism. Munoz sings and yells quite aggressively over the already aggressive onslaught of sounds. His voice is often distorted adding more energy to the already kinetic music.

In addition to the hard-hitting songs, he also has a number of tracks that contain no percussive elements at all. For example, the second track “Target Locked” sounds like what a very busy extraterrestrial airport might sound like. Honestly, it sounds exactly like alien spacecraft are taking off and landing at an inter-universal space hub. “P.L.X.T.X ?WOLFBUSH – WAR” is one of the more substantial tracks of the album which had elements of Primal Scream’s XTRMNTR as well as some of the harder hitting tracks for Venetian Snares. There are also a couple of short super segments that last a little more than a minute that each has their own unique flavor. For instance, “Whiteout” which is one of the hardest songs on the album or “Fireflies” which is blur of vocals and dissonant synths that sound like pure confusion. The cyber punk “Casket” is a gritty, visceral song that makes aggression sound doable in the digital domain as Munoz creates chaotic, often disorienting beats, surrounded by buzz saws and jet engines. “Day I Die” tips its hat to classic industrial bands as well as Atari teenage riot as the steady kick, repetitive lyrics and white noise create an immersive experience that will leave most by the wayside who cannot get on board.

Perhaps the most baffling part of the album was the way Munoz decided to end it. It closes with the title track “Selective Mutism” which is the longest track on the album clocking in at 7:25 seconds. I was hoping Munoz would end the album with his strengths – his knack for creating heavy beats that are inflicted with turbulent noises. But instead he chose to go the experimental route and devote most of the seven minutes to manipulating vocal samples. For the most part this album is Digital Hardcore and will either have people heading for the doorway or completely absorbed. Overall this album, while a bit self-indulgent at times, offers an often original, unique listening experience that proves you don’t need a guitar and live instruments to create something that feels emotionally fueled and aggressive. - The Equal Ground

BY JACK DANIEL BETZ

During their time together, Female Demand rode high on a wave of growing appreciation for power-duo bands like Lightning Bolt (who have seemingly reached the apex of their mainstream popularity with their inclusion on the star-studded Flaming Lips’ album Heady Fwends). Bradley Muñoz and Jonathan Perez took the drum and bass thrasher concept to its limits, beyond its minimalist noise roots, to an acid-drenched, space-rock climax, on their only full-length album, “Outside the Universe.” They turned heads with their intensity, in life, but broke up rather quietly, with Bradley’s Facebook status about selling his bass as the only public indication.
Given the spastic movements of Bradley’s body, and John’s machine gun nest of percussive contributions, there are few bands in Houston, which matched the pure violence of Female Demand, when playing live. So it should not be all that surprising that Bradley’s departure only led to something more chaotic, more frenzied and more unrestrained. He calls it P.L.X.T.X., but pronounces it Pluto, (like the planet).
The music itself contains the energy of punk, but without the usual instruments or trappings. Muñoz’s vocals are shouted over a variety of ear-wrenching, electro-gunfire-volleys, that make his admirers want to headbang, but cause some, inevitably, to run and hide. In a fusion of the guerilla-gig, floor-circle tradition of Female Demand, and the simple boombox-cabinet stage of B L A C K I E, Muñoz’ setup includes the stark setup of speakers, a mic and himself, on the floor. The result has all the intensity of a dozen Suicide performances, an air-raid and an inescapable, never-ending fire drill all rolled into one. While fascinating to watch, it’s a bit like enduring a heart attack.
The rebirth of Muñoz as a new artist, one distinct from his bass-hero persona, was immediately visible, in an uncanny way. He bleached his hair a blinding white (like the blanching of the reborn Gandalf) and, when on stage, inserted a pair of macabre black contacts which made him look like either like a soulless wraith or some unfriendly alien species. If you haven’t gotten to witness the contacts though, don’t count on seeing them for a while. Apparently they don’t feel as awesome as they look. Muñoz said he stopped using those in April. “These contacts are very uncomfortable and irritating, plus the process of inserting them into your eyes is a challenge,” Munõz complained, “I may bring them back later, but for right now I’m leaving them at home.”
Unfortunately, according to Bradley, the now one man band has bled popularity, when compared to audiences of Female Demand. “It’s not rock and roll. It’s not a ‘band’ performing. It’s one guy and a couple of gadgets working together,” said Muñoz, “But I haven’t tapped into that market, or group of people, who enjoy aggressive electronic music. I’m [P.L.X.T.X.] only a year old.”
But the lack of commercial appeal doesn’t seem to worry Muñoz at this point, given that the project’s debut album “Selective Mutism” includes a blank CD-R, with instructions urging listeners to make free copies. It’s an extreme measure for someone who fronted a band that enjoyed massive local popularity and was possibly on track to join the ranks of Lightning Bolt or Japandroids, with time. “This path I’m taking is expensive. My paycheck goes to this and I don’t see a dime in return — but for the love of creating and challenging listeners, it’s worth it,” Muñoz said.
P.L.X.T.X. is a timely rebuttal to the overly-populist uses of electronic sounds, by so many new and mainstream artists. Carefully marketed dub$tep and electro-pop acts have hi-jacked the instrumentation of innovative artists like Aphex Twin and Squarepusher and made them tame: Almost too approachable. With the waning but for now still-formidable influence of the Night Culture crowd, there is a huge gap in the market of glitchy, experimental, electronic music, and Muñoz is a good contender. As technology continues to push all live performances toward the less-live (more electronic) side of the spectrum, there’s a desperate need for live electronic acts that bend and break rules, rather than just twist and turn knobs.
This summer has afforded P.L.X.T.X. a unique opportunity to make a footprint outside of Houston, in a place few local bands ever get to tour. Muñoz will take his one-man show on the road, to Japan, touring alongside Houston math-rock wizards, Giant Battle Monster. For Bradley, and Giant Battle Monster as well, the tour seems more than appropriate. Given the distance (and the expense) the average person might ask, “Why the hell Japan?!” but, musically, when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. From Merzbow to Melt Banana, the Japanese have a taste for the musical extreme that, is unmatched in the U.S., on a large scale. The tour so far includes multiple dates in Osaka and Tokyo.
In the music industry, t - Free Press Houston

Do not download Bradley Munoz's, better know as P.L.X.T.X., album Selective Mutism. In fact, don't call it an album at all, because that is in no way what it is.
Munoz's insistence on sending me a physical copy to review irked me in the digital age, but I played along because he's a nice kid who happens to frighten me a little. I'm glad he insisted, because Munoz has crafted something that can only truly be appreciated when its digital listening mode and physical medium are combined.

You open Selective Mutism, and the first thing that happens is a CD-R falls out along with a small black and white picture of Munoz. The CD-R bears a homemade sticker, and the picture is handwritten on the back encouraging you to make a copy to give to a friend. Inside the casing is the message, "Fuck Hollywood and their lobbyist."
Right off the bat, even before you've listened to a single note Selective Mutism is already laying down the ground rules of the listening experience. It gets better. Instead of credits or lyrics, the other have of the packaging is small white writing that looks like gibberish.

It's actually backwards English, and if you hold a mirror up to the text it's a confessional letter from Munoz talking about how as a child his stuttering speech impediment made him wish to be completely mute. To this day, he says he occasionally pretends to be such out and about in society.


That stutter, and thwarted communication in general, is the main focus of the album. Obstinately, it's an anti-war record dealing largely with the United States' drone-strike policy. The sounds of war and death serve as the preamble, with a track of synthetic missile strikes following an intro that is nothing but the phrase, "Can you see/hear me, death from above?" backmasked over and over again.

Backmasking plays a very important role in the album, and I highly recommend transferring it to your smartphone and picking up the Reverse-Player app so you can more easily decode the many hidden messages.

The bulk of Selected Mutism is typical of Munoz's approach to music. The lyrics are tonelessly shouted and endlessly repeated over an assault of harsh industrial beats and noise. Musically, it's far more melodious than his EP Time, but it remains brutal, mechanical noise that engages a listener much the same way Batman engages The Joker.

It's all a rage against oppression, the silence that death brings. As Munoz screams up at the sky in tracks like "War" and "Death Squads!" it's clear that he's expressing a repressed passion that manifests as an inability to speak normally. His lyrics reflect the anguish of people being burnt up by murder plains in their last moments of life struggling to stay alive.

But it's all deeper than that. Munoz constantly, and I mean constantly, goes out of his way to obscure an more mild method of communication. Take this poetic stanza inspired by a heroin-addicted friend that appears in the song "Toast."
I see the winding road of black tar with tunnels of many forks... I hear a slight drum beat. As I move closer, closer I get... farther the noise flee, as I gaze with a hazy daze... your eyes turn to stone... sunbeams breaks your first circle. All I have now is a mental image of what you used to be.
It's a strangely soft and sad bit of poetry that Munoz screams in his regular caterwaul, but it shows up one more time in the title track. In that instance, it's delivered by a text to speech program, though it is specifically made to painfully stutter through it on an awkward, sad reflection on being voiceless.

Later in the track, a soft, languid instrumental that mirrors the missiles of "Target Locked" underscores another backmasking. Played backwards, as you absolutely should, it reveals the only true singing Munoz does on the whole album as he repeats the "Winding Road" poem on more time.

He's never going win any awards as a vocalist, but this moment is why Selective Mutism is an interactive work of art instead of just another album. It's the absolute heart of the creation. Munoz desperately hides his own, unaltered voice after an electronic stutter and among a reversed presentation.

To even hear it you have to use machines, but that message in the poem is everything he's trying to say. It's the fear we can't articulate when a loved one crosses the line from indulgence to addiction. It's the terror of knowing you're going to die and not being able to do a damned thing about it. It's so big it can't be said aloud. It can only be felt, and you have to dig it out of Selective Mutism like a psychologist rooting out repressed sexual abuse from a patient.

The worst part? The final two tracks are hidden messages in text-to-speak encouraging listeners to contact him on Twitter, Facebook, etc. In the end, Munoz doesn - Houston Press

7. P.L.X.T.X.
Bradley Munoz wanted to name a band Pluto. Trouble is, lots of bands are already named Pluto. So in order to make it stand out in Google searches, he just punched the vowels in the dick and replaced them with Xs. There's something so amazingly pragmatic and completely backwards about that logic that is just beautiful.
- Houston Press

7. P.L.X.T.X.
Bradley Munoz wanted to name a band Pluto. Trouble is, lots of bands are already named Pluto. So in order to make it stand out in Google searches, he just punched the vowels in the dick and replaced them with Xs. There's something so amazingly pragmatic and completely backwards about that logic that is just beautiful.
- Houston Press

Who? Bassist and singer Bradley Munoz was an instrumental part of Female Demand before going the solo electronic route, and is now the man behind P.L.X.T.X. (pronounced Pluto). However, both were/are highly experimental noise bands that scream staticky truth at the top of their voices. Earlier this year I had a chance to dive headfirst into the insanity that is Female Demand's Outside the Universe and the experience damn near deafened me, to say nothing of the madness you court listening to it.
Then there's Munoz's solo work. I'd put off listening to Time for the same reason I've never bought any more Mark Z. Danielewski novels... I haven't recovered from the first one yet.Time does show a different side of Munoz's abilities. Eighty percent of it is the fast, Atari Teenage Riot-style anarchy that we've come to expect, but "Explosions Will Configure This World" is a haunting, ambient masterpiece that belongs on the iPod of any Houstonians who fancy themselves edgy.
Home Base: Munoz does all his crafting in a shed out behind his parents' house, and then uses a makeshift studio in order to record everything. As far as playing around town, no particular stage has built a birdhouse in his soul. They've all been pretty amiable to him as far as he's concerned.
Good War Story: "In my old project we used to gun to L.A. for weekend shows," begins Munoz. "Shitty, shitty weekend shows."
We did this twice. Wake up early in the morning. DRIVE THROUGH TEXAS, NEW MEXICO, ARIZONA for a FUCKING SHOW. IN A DAY! IN A FUCKING DAY. Then when Sunday arrives we DRIVE BACK! On the same route back home, IN A FUCKING DAY so I can get back to work for a shit part-time job.
Everything paid by me. We drove through snow in west Texas coming back on our first trip, 2 a.m. in the morning. We got home around noon-ish. Road warriors. Can you say, dedication?
Why Do You Stay in Houston? "Why the fuck not?", he says. "It's HOUSTON. There's no place like it. I was planning to move away for a little bit, but I said no and decided on staying here. HOUSTON TEXAS! ALWAYS!"
Music Scene Pet Peeves: "Fuck... I don't know. I'll say the clique-y circles of people you have to deal with and they think they are all better than you 'cause you don't live inside the loop or hang out at Montrose/Washington/Midtown/whatever bars," Munoz says. "It's a lot of 'who you know' and if you're 'cool' and if your music is 'trendy' or you 'dress' like the carbon copies that Hollywood or New York shits out. That's my pet peeve. The shit elites that say what's up and what's down.
"But that's everywhere," he continues. "There's a lot of 'scenes' in Houston. A lot! You got the noise scene, the punk scene, electronic scene, the industrial scene, classical, metal, buzz-rock, hip hop, pop, etc... I don't know where to dive in. I CAN'T FIT IN!"
Five Desert Island Discs: Munoz answered this question with a graphic using keyboard characters to portray a large, erect penis ejaculating semen onto a pair of breasts, then mentioned something about BBC Radio.
Best Show Ever: "[After-hours venue] Ponderosa during Counter Crawl V," he says. "That was when Steve picked me up and chunked me into the small crowd of people. My first legit show."
First Song You Fell in Love With: "Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, '1st of tha Month' off ofE. 1999 Eternal," he says. "I never understood what they we're saying, but I was hypnotized by the rhythm they put out. I was seven."

- Jef With One F - Houston Press

I can't really describe Bradley Munoz and his hard, throbbing electronica act P.L.X.T.X. better than my pal Jeremy Hart did over at Space City Rock:

If your "music" absolutely must have melodies and sweetly-sung vocals and nice, clean production, well, you're going to want to stay far, far the fuck away from P.L.X.T.X
Of course, Hart is wrong a bit. "Thousand Eyes Stare" up there clearly has a melody. It's just that unless you've spent a significant amount of time listening to music that sounds like three schizophrenics raping a running dishwasher while the theme from Mega Man 2 plays in the background you might not be able to catch it. Regardless, it's great stuff.

But that name...



According to the Facebook you pronounce P.L.X.T.X. as Pluto, so it makes me wonder why Munoz is a being such a dick with the formatting? You know how annoying it is to type stuff like this out over the course of an article? I don't write stories on B L A C K I E anymore just for the simple reason that I hate playing leapfrog with the damn shift key and space bar, but at least he didn't look at the three vowels in his name and say, "You fuckers are gone. I'm hiring X to do the work of you three for half the price because he's in this country illegally."
I mean, I assume that that was the conversation Munoz's had with his letters because I assume that anyone that makes music like he does is nuttier than Dumbo's bowel movements. And guesswork is all we have to go on. What am I supposed to do? Ask him?

Ed. Note: That would be nice, yes. Do that or I'll put you back on overly cheerful teen pop star duty.

Fine, I'll ask him. Yo! Munoz? What's up with your weird-ass name, brah?

"I came up with P.L.X.T.X. by 'X' out the vowels in Pluto," said Munoz. "I wanted it to stand out in Google searches and in general. There are a lot of bands named Pluto so I wanted my 'Pluto' to stand out. It just looks cool."

"But what does is it all mean?" I asked.

"Liberation from everyone and everything."

Industrial guys are weird.

Final Definition

P.L.X.T.X. (n) 1. A Roman god. 2. Slightly mad industrial music. 3. A dwarf planet...

"Pluto is still a planet," Munoz interrupted. "I don't care what NASA says... it's not a dwarf planet."

We do not argue with Neil DeGrasse Tyson in this column, sir. - HoustonPress

I can't really describe Bradley Munoz and his hard, throbbing electronica act P.L.X.T.X. better than my pal Jeremy Hart did over at Space City Rock:

If your "music" absolutely must have melodies and sweetly-sung vocals and nice, clean production, well, you're going to want to stay far, far the fuck away from P.L.X.T.X
Of course, Hart is wrong a bit. "Thousand Eyes Stare" up there clearly has a melody. It's just that unless you've spent a significant amount of time listening to music that sounds like three schizophrenics raping a running dishwasher while the theme from Mega Man 2 plays in the background you might not be able to catch it. Regardless, it's great stuff.

But that name...



According to the Facebook you pronounce P.L.X.T.X. as Pluto, so it makes me wonder why Munoz is a being such a dick with the formatting? You know how annoying it is to type stuff like this out over the course of an article? I don't write stories on B L A C K I E anymore just for the simple reason that I hate playing leapfrog with the damn shift key and space bar, but at least he didn't look at the three vowels in his name and say, "You fuckers are gone. I'm hiring X to do the work of you three for half the price because he's in this country illegally."
I mean, I assume that that was the conversation Munoz's had with his letters because I assume that anyone that makes music like he does is nuttier than Dumbo's bowel movements. And guesswork is all we have to go on. What am I supposed to do? Ask him?

Ed. Note: That would be nice, yes. Do that or I'll put you back on overly cheerful teen pop star duty.

Fine, I'll ask him. Yo! Munoz? What's up with your weird-ass name, brah?

"I came up with P.L.X.T.X. by 'X' out the vowels in Pluto," said Munoz. "I wanted it to stand out in Google searches and in general. There are a lot of bands named Pluto so I wanted my 'Pluto' to stand out. It just looks cool."

"But what does is it all mean?" I asked.

"Liberation from everyone and everything."

Industrial guys are weird.

Final Definition

P.L.X.T.X. (n) 1. A Roman god. 2. Slightly mad industrial music. 3. A dwarf planet...

"Pluto is still a planet," Munoz interrupted. "I don't care what NASA says... it's not a dwarf planet."

We do not argue with Neil DeGrasse Tyson in this column, sir. - HoustonPress

Parfois on peut en avoir ras le cul de se faire pénétrer dans les oreilles par de la chiasse radiophonique, fatigué d’être entubé par du « easy-listening » calibré pour des putes à franges ou des mongols du david ghetto, parfois on a besoin de violence, d’être brutalisé volontairement comme une actrice de porn gonzo et pas juste chatouillé par des bruissements de frigidaire à la Sonny Moore. Pour trouver ce genre de plaisir autodestructeur il faut s’éloigner des instances dictatoriales des presses musicales blogogoles propres comme des témoins de Jéhovah, il faut s’enfoncer dans les tréfonds putrides et sombres du net où les projets les plus DIY et inconnus tels que P.L.X.T.X s’affranchissent des codes putassiers de l’industrie musicale actuelle en creusant des galeries crades et moites six pieds sous « l’underground » pour échapper à la mainmise de ces saletés de sangsues pitchforkiennes.

P.L.X.T.X, prononcé « Pluto » est le projet solo d’un des mecs de Female Demand, un groupe de Punk-noise-psyché de Houston. Et ce type a du dégoût et de la rage à revendre mais un profond amour pour la musique dissonante. Ses petites bombes au napalm brûlent de ce feu ardent cher aux compositions abrasives de Venetian Snares à Aphex Twin (période Come to daddy) jusqu’à Atari teenage riot. On est proche de la furie sonore du crew d'Alec Empire, des breakbeats drum’n’bass écrasants comme des grondements d’explosions entrecoupés de grésillements et de larsens hypra-stridents.

Au lancement de son EP 5 titres « Time » tu te retrouves à poil à l’entrée d’un asile duquel on aurait ouvert toutes les cellules des pires malades mentaux-psychopathes-déviants-sexuels. Tout seul face à cette joyeuse faune, tu ne peux que subir cette masse humaine dégénérée fondant sur ton pauvre petit corps, te piétinant les dents, te molestant le ventre à coup de tessons de bouteille et te violant les parties intimes avec des pics à glace.

En se plongeant dans cet amas en fusion qu’est « Time » il ne faut pas s’attendre à une quelconque musicalité ou revendication d’un certain mouvement, je pense que P.L.X.T.X. en a rien à foutre de se faire coller une étiquette jungle-gaber-breakbeat-noise-techcore, ce qui transparait dans ce déferlement punitif est la transcription d’une éthique cohérente et une liberté artistique revendiquée à coups de barre de fer. On ne comprend presque strictement rien à ses vociférations mais ce serait comme chercher à comprendre le sens d’une effraction de supermarché à la méthode voiture-bélier.

Certains n’y verront qu’une musique primaire et gratuite pour débiles mentaux sous acides, d’autres connaisseurs y verront un défouloir orchestré avec brio dans un genre peu revisité depuis un moment.
Alors faisons fi de tous ces tortilleurs du cul qui chercheraient un quelconque manque de travail dans la production ou la construction empirique de ces hymnes à l’anarchie aussi bruts de décoffrage qu’un bunker en béton armé.

Ici c’est la violence pure et une haine primale du monde actuel qui nous pousse à nous injecter un mélange bath-salts-speedball-krokodil dans les veines et casser tout ce qui nous passe sous la main quitte à ce que soit le crâne d’un être vivant. Ce serait dommage pour nous pauvres junkies-haters aigris de passer à côté de cette dose gratuitement téléchargeable sur Bandcamp.


En quelques mots : Ultra-violent, ultra-dissonant, ultra-trop-rapide.
Note : 4/5

Chroniqueur : Troène



ENGLISH VERISON
Sometimes you may have to flush the ass to get into the ears of the runs by radio, tired of being conned by the "easy-listening" calibrated for whores fringes or the Mongolian david ghetto, sometimes you need violence, be deliberately brutalized as a gonzo porn actress and not just tickled by the rustling of the fridge Sonny Moore. To find this kind of destructive pleasure must move away from dictatorial authorities presses blogogoles own music as Jehovah's Witnesses, must sink into the depths of dark and putrid net where larger projects such as DIY and unknown PLXTX codes are freed putassiers music industry tunneling current and grimey sweaty six feet under "underground" to escape the stranglehold of those pesky leeches pitchforkiennes.

PLXTX, pronounced "Pluto" is the solo project of one of the guys Female Demand, a group of punk-noise-psyche Houston. And this type of disgust and rage to spare but a deep love for music dissonant. Its small napalm burn this fire burning expensive abrasive compositions Venetian Snares to Aphex Twin (Come to daddy period) until Atari teenage riot. It is close to the fury of the sound crew Alec Empire, drum'n'bass breakbeats as overwhelming rumbling explosions interspersed with crackling and larsens hyper-strident.

Launched its EP 5 tracks " Time "you find yourself naked at the entrance of a home which we have opened all the cells of the worst-insane-psycho-sexual deviant. All alone with this joyous wildlife, you can only experience this human mass degene - FAUST SCEPTIK, webzine music

Parfois on peut en avoir ras le cul de se faire pénétrer dans les oreilles par de la chiasse radiophonique, fatigué d’être entubé par du « easy-listening » calibré pour des putes à franges ou des mongols du david ghetto, parfois on a besoin de violence, d’être brutalisé volontairement comme une actrice de porn gonzo et pas juste chatouillé par des bruissements de frigidaire à la Sonny Moore. Pour trouver ce genre de plaisir autodestructeur il faut s’éloigner des instances dictatoriales des presses musicales blogogoles propres comme des témoins de Jéhovah, il faut s’enfoncer dans les tréfonds putrides et sombres du net où les projets les plus DIY et inconnus tels que P.L.X.T.X s’affranchissent des codes putassiers de l’industrie musicale actuelle en creusant des galeries crades et moites six pieds sous « l’underground » pour échapper à la mainmise de ces saletés de sangsues pitchforkiennes.

P.L.X.T.X, prononcé « Pluto » est le projet solo d’un des mecs de Female Demand, un groupe de Punk-noise-psyché de Houston. Et ce type a du dégoût et de la rage à revendre mais un profond amour pour la musique dissonante. Ses petites bombes au napalm brûlent de ce feu ardent cher aux compositions abrasives de Venetian Snares à Aphex Twin (période Come to daddy) jusqu’à Atari teenage riot. On est proche de la furie sonore du crew d'Alec Empire, des breakbeats drum’n’bass écrasants comme des grondements d’explosions entrecoupés de grésillements et de larsens hypra-stridents.

Au lancement de son EP 5 titres « Time » tu te retrouves à poil à l’entrée d’un asile duquel on aurait ouvert toutes les cellules des pires malades mentaux-psychopathes-déviants-sexuels. Tout seul face à cette joyeuse faune, tu ne peux que subir cette masse humaine dégénérée fondant sur ton pauvre petit corps, te piétinant les dents, te molestant le ventre à coup de tessons de bouteille et te violant les parties intimes avec des pics à glace.

En se plongeant dans cet amas en fusion qu’est « Time » il ne faut pas s’attendre à une quelconque musicalité ou revendication d’un certain mouvement, je pense que P.L.X.T.X. en a rien à foutre de se faire coller une étiquette jungle-gaber-breakbeat-noise-techcore, ce qui transparait dans ce déferlement punitif est la transcription d’une éthique cohérente et une liberté artistique revendiquée à coups de barre de fer. On ne comprend presque strictement rien à ses vociférations mais ce serait comme chercher à comprendre le sens d’une effraction de supermarché à la méthode voiture-bélier.

Certains n’y verront qu’une musique primaire et gratuite pour débiles mentaux sous acides, d’autres connaisseurs y verront un défouloir orchestré avec brio dans un genre peu revisité depuis un moment.
Alors faisons fi de tous ces tortilleurs du cul qui chercheraient un quelconque manque de travail dans la production ou la construction empirique de ces hymnes à l’anarchie aussi bruts de décoffrage qu’un bunker en béton armé.

Ici c’est la violence pure et une haine primale du monde actuel qui nous pousse à nous injecter un mélange bath-salts-speedball-krokodil dans les veines et casser tout ce qui nous passe sous la main quitte à ce que soit le crâne d’un être vivant. Ce serait dommage pour nous pauvres junkies-haters aigris de passer à côté de cette dose gratuitement téléchargeable sur Bandcamp.


En quelques mots : Ultra-violent, ultra-dissonant, ultra-trop-rapide.
Note : 4/5

Chroniqueur : Troène



ENGLISH VERISON
Sometimes you may have to flush the ass to get into the ears of the runs by radio, tired of being conned by the "easy-listening" calibrated for whores fringes or the Mongolian david ghetto, sometimes you need violence, be deliberately brutalized as a gonzo porn actress and not just tickled by the rustling of the fridge Sonny Moore. To find this kind of destructive pleasure must move away from dictatorial authorities presses blogogoles own music as Jehovah's Witnesses, must sink into the depths of dark and putrid net where larger projects such as DIY and unknown PLXTX codes are freed putassiers music industry tunneling current and grimey sweaty six feet under "underground" to escape the stranglehold of those pesky leeches pitchforkiennes.

PLXTX, pronounced "Pluto" is the solo project of one of the guys Female Demand, a group of punk-noise-psyche Houston. And this type of disgust and rage to spare but a deep love for music dissonant. Its small napalm burn this fire burning expensive abrasive compositions Venetian Snares to Aphex Twin (Come to daddy period) until Atari teenage riot. It is close to the fury of the sound crew Alec Empire, drum'n'bass breakbeats as overwhelming rumbling explosions interspersed with crackling and larsens hyper-strident.

Launched its EP 5 tracks " Time "you find yourself naked at the entrance of a home which we have opened all the cells of the worst-insane-psycho-sexual deviant. All alone with this joyous wildlife, you can only experience this human mass degene - FAUST SCEPTIK, webzine music

If your “music” absolutely must have melodies and sweetly-sung vocals and nice, clean production, well, you’re going to want to stay far, far the fuck away from P.L.X.T.X’s debut EP, TIME.

If, on the other hand, you’re willing to listen to music that’s rough and abrasive and confrontational as hell but still drags you along for the ride, then hey, this may be your thing. As for me, I went into TIME as a skeptic and crawled out the other side as a believer, firmly in that latter category.

It helps that I’m a big Atari Teenage Riot fan, because Bradley Muñoz’s P.L.X.T.X project — which is apparently meant to be pronounced “Pluto,” automatically making me like it even more — sounds like it was pretty hugely influenced by ATR and Alec Empire’s other tangential efforts, with the messy, skittering, speaker-shredding breakbeats, bursts of jagged noise, and shouted/howled vocals that explode out of the headphones here.

Muñoz (who you might know from his two-man noise-punk band Female Demand, by the way) wields that sound expertly, creating a wall of noise that manages to be both threatening and hypnotic. The five tracks on here are relentlessly fucking raw and harsh, yet are all still mesmerizing in their strange, misanthropic way. It’s definitely not pleasant to listen to, by any stretch, but listen past the noise, and the rhythms suck you in and get your head bobbing spastically in time, and that’s never a bad thing in my book.

Opener “Go” is probably the most ATR-like track of the bunch, with its half-buried, repeated exhortations and and dancefloor-shattering rhythms. Beyond that, “A Thousand Eyes Stare” sounds for all the world like a B L A C K I E backing track without the B L A C K I E, while “Rocket Me to Freedom” incorporates some fiendishly sneaky little hints of melody into the squall.

Further on, “Let It Fail” is a pinball made of antimatter careening through some cosmic arcade game, unstoppable and deadly, and closer “Explosions Will Configure This World” follows in “Go”‘s footsteps for about 40 seconds before dissolving into atmospheric, vaguely sinister, head-warping ambient sound.

My recommendation? Let go of all the preconceived bullshit about what music “should” be like and let TIME dropkick you down the rabbit hole, at least for a little while. - SPACE CITY ROCK

Who’s P.L.X.T.X.?
P.L.X.T.X is Bradley Munoz.



How did you get started in the music scene?
I started playing at a very young age. I remember starting rock bands during middle school. Bringing my bc rich warlock guitar and playing metal riffs and what knots. Impressing all my friends, but here’s the catch. I have a speech impediment. I stutter my way through everything so I had a hard time communicating and music was my ‘gate way’ to fluently ‘talk’ to people. Even if it’s strictly musical… from there I decided to take on music (full time). High school came around, I saved my lunch money and what ever pennies I could scavenge and spent it all on equipment. Making whatever noise that gives me Goosebumps. I never really had friends. I never really went out. Only to shows….My main interest was how the fuck can I start playing shows and run with it? That’s it. I never went to prom. I spent my prom money on a California trip to do a record



What’s the story behind your artist’s name?
I wanted to be named Pluto, but when I did a google search. About 3 different bands named Pluto shows up. One from New Zealand, Canada, and somewhere else that I can’t remember at the moment, but I didn’t wanted to be affiliate w/ them. So, I ‘X’ out the vowels in ‘Pluto’, made them all caps and put periods in between. Came out to be P.L.X.T.X (SO MUCH EASIER FOR GOOGLE SEARCHES!!!) the idea for ‘P.L.X.T.X’ came to me for being so stand off-ish with Houston’s scene. Observing everything from a distant, but remained hidden in the shadows. Watching everything… knowing that I’m there, but could not spot me until I come out in the sunlight. That’s how I am till this day. I spend most if not all of my time in my little project studio, cracking out noisy ass distorted beats and screaming into a microphone connected to a guitar amp.



What’s the method at the time of writing a song?
Staying up for a whole day/ night on caffeine pills. Waking up and start writing at that moment. Any idea that comes to me, I start jotting it down & recording any sound that I find interesting…even if I’m at work or sitting on the toilet.



What are your music influences?
O0o0o0o0o0o, a lot of things. Very aggressive, not listenable music, to super easy listening shit you here @ a shopping mall or something.



TIME. How was the recording and writing process for this record? How you came out with the album’s name?
The recording & writing process for TIME took me a little over a year.
I had these beats for months and months, slowly fermenting. For that whole year, I added in or taken out so many things to the so called songs I had. From there, I added lyrics from past memories and experiences I had growing up. Made sure everything made sense and flow…

The album name came to me when had this crazy obsession with Time. The time I have left on this earth, the time I have left to do this… the time I have left to do whatever…. It was driving me crazy. Every hour I watched go to waste I get pissed. When I see the sun set and realized I didn’t do anything productive drives me crazy. Yes I know, it’s very unhealthy, but I had that urge to get shit done. I didn’t want to pussy foot around and say to myself, ‘this album will get done w/ soon.’ Fuck that, it had to be done at this certain time, released at this certain day.

Everything has a ticking clock. When that clock is on its last hour and you didn’t say I love you to whom ever, or didn’t get to do what ever you wanted to do when you had the chance, or if you had that moment, what ever …. That’s what I was on.



So what has been the funniest moment you have been or took part while touring or playing a show?
Ever had your vocal chords (folds) bleed while yelling into a microphone? I have this past weekend…



Are there any plans for the future we should be aware of?
More music releases on a tangible format (VINYL, TAPES, &/OR CD-RS). . . if not all digitally for free. More shows, more shows, and hopefully small regional tours. And if I’m lucky, international shows. + music videos . . collaborations?



Where can we find more about your music?
Http://plxtx.com that’s my website, it has links to all you need & all of my music is up for download as well!



Do you feel you are moving on the right direction?
FUCK YES I AM!!!! - VENTS MAG.