The Label That Vanished in '97
Tracing a cult record label whose catalogue survives only on worn cassettes.
The label disappeared in 1997 without a farewell, leaving behind catalogue numbers, duplicated cassettes and contradictory memories. Its history now survives in objects that were never designed to become archives.
Each tape offers clues: a reused shell, a typed address, a studio credit shared with another release. Put together, these fragments trace a network built from mail orders, favors and long-distance trust.
The music ranges from corroded electronics to skeletal guitar songs, but the releases share an instinct for work that sounded unfinished in productive ways. The label documented experiments rather than smoothing them into products.
Reconstructing the catalogue cannot restore everything that vanished. It can, however, honor the listeners who kept copying, labeling and carrying these sounds after the official trail went cold.
Obsessed with films nobody asked for, records pressed in tiny runs and games that hurt. Writes long, scores hard.