REVIEW: Spring of Life - "Training Camp"

Training Camp (Self-release, 2024)

    Some things in this world of hubris and melancholy deserve praise, but this tape doesn't. It deserves absolute reverence. Training Camp ought to be locked away within an incense-clouded monastery, lauded over by silent witnesses, far away from the corruptions of all tasteless wretches. Like the first sharp breeze of cool wind in the fall, this piece of work is wholly a jolt to the system of our "modern noise scene." Whatever that means. It bares no markings of posturing or arrogance. There are no moments of pompous noise grand-standing. Part of what this tape does best is what it doesn't do at all.

    An undefinable creation that never was, or that may certainly "BE" all too flippantly (is creation even an apropos word for something so untether-able to the physical world?) stumbles out from the headphones, or speakers, attached to the tape deck. Certainly this is some abstraction from the intersection of the creation of the universe and said universe's inevitable decimation. However, what sounds should emit from the magnetic tape and plastic shell are all-at-once real and concrete as the walls around you. Birthed from the hands of a person, like any of us. Bound to the "human condition" (what an atrocious thing) much the same as all other cassette tapes, or noise recordings. What Training Camp holds apart from the rest though, is its authenticity, its genuine uniqueness, because it happens to be entirely itself. What I mean by that, though I'm loathe to feel as if I must explain myself, is that it comes from no place, and owes no debt to any other creative mind save that of its creator. Sure it can be droolishly debated that without the progenitors of noise as an artform there would be no Spring of Life at all, however the same can be said for the rest of us, and is in no way an interesting rebuttal. 

    The silence is what makes the noise. I'll attempt to unpack that, but if you don't get it afterwards, well then you're on your own. Without silence there is no sound, for then it would all be sound, and it would bare no meaning, as the silence is what makes sound weighted and engendered with meaning. It is the space between the sputtering noise that gives said noise its meaning, not simply just the noise itself applying its own meaning. Meaning however is something of a misnomer here, for when I use the word "meaning" I don't simply intend to convey the dictionary definition of the word, but rather an altogether different substance to the word. That substance of the previously mentioned "meaning" is this: in language "meaning" refers to both the so-called definition of something, its objectiveness, as well as its ability to be interpreted differently from person to person, also known as its subjectiveness, but here the claim is neither, rather it refers to the intrinsic aspect of the "thing," that which is beyond the step of thought, for when you process an idea with your thoughts then the original "thing" is then rendered new, and separate from itself, to put it in lite Hegelian terms. 

The Noise: Sputter is a word that is overused when describing noise, however it is more than extremely appropriate to use here. This tape sputters along both sides desperately attempting to cling to its own deformed self. It sounds like it is simultaneously trying to live and snuff itself out. What a remarkable thing, as if it embodies the qualities of human life itself; racing toward extinction while furiously stomping on the brakes. This tape hums and rattles, bursts and gurgles. The sounds are never really loud though. From what I have said of this tape thus far you might think it is this huge monstrous Goliath, however it is anything but. It is fairly quiet and self-contained. Never going past its limits, for it knows what it needs to do in order to convey itself. This idea is so far from our idea of noise, for when you think of noise I'm sure somewhere around 90% of us think: LOUD. Grand subtleties give this baby its delicate flavor. Nuance and careful attention are its bread and butter. Silence are its side dishes. Tonight for dinner we're having originality. Intentional is a fantastic word to describe this noise. 

The Artwork: I don't even know where the fuck to start with this section. The tape comes packaged in a thick plastic bag that has art actually printed on it, and it is sealed with a strip of silver tape. Now that it really cool. Once opened you'll find a simple cassette case, and inside a translucent tape with the project name and titular Training Camp taped to what is presumably the "A" side of the tape. There is no traditional J Card either, but a 6-panel fold out piece of what I believe is newsprint type paper, enveloped in beautiful silver inked images. The artwork is like the sound, almost indecipherable. There is a strangeness to it, that does not lend itself well to interpretation, and I love that about this work. "Recorded at Friendship Lodge 2024" is all that is really printed on the insert, along with the tape title. I forgot to mention, but the track list can be found on the plastic bag that houses the tape and case. One can sit for hours like I have, and repeatedly listen to this tape while scanning the artwork. It is impenetrable however, yet accessible and inviting. 

The Artist: Mr. Spring of Life is a kind fella, the kinda sort that will hand write you a letter and include it in your trade package. If you're reading this Mike I'm sorry I never responded to your letter. I will eventually. Anyway he is that kinda guy! A genuine artist with an extremely limited number of releases. The project has been around since 2020, that I'm aware of, and has steadily released only 1 tape per year, totaling a whopping 5 tapes. The restraint and attention to detail each release is afforded can hardly be put into words. As well every single Spring of Life release is a solid masterclass in noise and presentation. This project deserves so much more attention and praise than it is given, however I also don't want people to know about it, because sometimes we just want to gatekeep the things we enjoy the most. Not much rationale needed beyond that. 

Overall Consensus: What this tape has that is so lacking in all forms of music and noise, and hell art in general, is character. It is of itself and nothing else. Now listen, my standards aren't astronomical, but they also don't exist in the pits of hell. I feel like that needed to be said, because what I'm about to say might seem a hot take to some of you goons, and so far I have rated everything I've reviewed pretty favorably. This tape is a 10/10. There is not a bad thing about this tape. This tape doesn't need a great review, it holds its own. In fact reviewing it might in fact diminish its brilliance, but I wanted to anyway. If you can find a copy of this tape, or any Spring of Life tape for that matter don't hesitate to buy/trade for it. Spring of Life is a rare kind of noise project.