EVIL GOAT is a conceptual art project in the form of a doom noise band.
EVIL GOAT has supported Lightning Bolt, Realicide, M.O.I.O, Spheres, Omahara, AXXONN, Primitive Calculators.
EVIL GOAT is a hideous, erratic, formless, tongue in cheek excursion into sonic blasphemy, investigating the purging and cathartic qualities of Noise and the psychic possibilities implied by mantra and repetition.
The two artists; Found Object and Blakevella Mourningcloth who ride the goat, fuse an eclectic range of sound sources from the most thuggish of Primitive Black Metal and the trepanning white-noise of Power Electronics, to the sensitive intensity of New Age relaxation cassettes and back masked Op-Shop Exotica.
The Evil Goat is amorphous, many-tentacled and deliberately elusive, actively plagiarising underground ideology for cynical ends: complete nihilistic abandon being the only logical response to the bacchanalian orgy that is Late Capitalism.
Evil Goat's sound is Misanthropy and Banality re-conditioned into a revitalising ritual trance, laced with poetry, social commentary and old fashioned perverse antagonism; just when you have penned The Goat in, it will escape and devour your garments, staring from beneath a wrinkled horn with a complete lack of respect, compassion or intent.
that should do.
MEDIA: REVIEW, MENTION
That was probably the worst performance I've seen from anybody, anywhere. Totally dreadful. - Dr.Funkenstein
I don't understand that Evil Goat stuff, is it just solo Scott? - Benobo
evil goat sounded a bit different to their Ono performance; although not neccessarily better or worse. -thecat
I was possessed by the Goat - MattW
Evil Goat was quite fair enough in my books - VstaR
I am thinking Costume and EFFECTS! - Andrew
Is Evil Goat what you and Scott did upstairs at the Brisbane? - Dr.Funkenstein
And then you have Evil Goat. These are not the kind of guys that you’d ever ask to hand you something properly clean and crafted. These guys are pure improv-noise havoc. Tonight they set a camera up in a tiny side room off from the bar and projected jarring epileptic images of themselves across the wall of the main gallery. Not being able to see much of anything made it all the more frightening. I thought I saw a walkie-talkie, or maybe a wrench, being hammered at an instrument. I thought I heard a thousand guitars being pounded into oblivion. I thought there were a pair of deranged, unhinged, psychotic men losing their minds in a small white room. Any longer than the seven minutes they put in might have sent a few of us (back) to the psych ward.
listen/buy tracks -