Karl John, Kif cole and many others.

Reviews

teq magazine. uk.aug 1994
bourbonese qualk "feeding the hungry ghost" cd

"we were berated something rotten by one of our subscribers (ex!) for giving qualk's latest techno offerings such good reviews. no doubt our beloved reader (ex) will be creaming himself over this slice of the past. yes the past but that's another story....dare i mention the "i" (industrial) word in comparison to some of qualk's past works? i know i will reap the savage tongue of mr crab, but on tracks such as "keep pushing" recorded live here in 1991, it is the spirit of t.g living savagely on, no complaints here though, i might add. bourbonese qualk though have never been easy to tie down, as their vast back catalogue illustrates, running off at a tangent on a whim of it's taskmaster. perplexingly diverse and so often frustrating because of it. experimentalists who played around with noise and rhythm and even on occasion, put together a song or two (the excellent "my government is my soul" and example from which "guilt" is raged live here). glass percussion, pseudo-ethnic jazz, eastern mantras, electronic highs/lows, synthetic growls all are evident in slices of raw scar tissue. but definitely no techno! the ghosts are obviously being laid to rest, time to move on, the band have, so maybe there is a lesson to be learnt?"

dd.

impulse magazine. uk.1993
bourbonese qualk "feeding the hungry ghost" cd

"from the quietly atmospheric opening on 'nuncamais' to the percussive chaos of 'vostok', bq have assembled a shifting collage of electronic sounds that condenses five years worth of live performances throughout europe into a timeless stemless totality. masterfully assembled like a buroughs cut-up, the pieces have been skillfully juxtaposed with each other and within the album as an integrated whole. listening to it, we are wheeled between hi-tech and lo-tech, atmospheres and abbrassive rhythms- all mixed together with the adepts sleight of hand. percussion thunders or patters behind screaming synths, polyphonic sequencers, spidery egyptian guitars and harsh barking vocals. a magical spell-a portrait of the shimmering mask of maya in which the present dissolves like smoke under the flexing ecstatic pulses and weaving hedonistic textures of bourbonese qualk. highly recommended. "

dm mitchell