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2000 A.D.  In the desolate fields and open air drug markets of Western New York, Bad Noise Productions glued itself together with rusty cars, pirate stereo components, children’s instruments, reams of paper and gallons of ink; a dilapidated beast spewing handcrafted grimoires, magick objects, bogus spiritual pamphlets and electrified ruckus.

Chris lives in Iowa now, and I live in Brooklyn, but Bad Noise was never about sitting still.  The beast moves with us, we cobble it together out of whatever’s at hand.  Noise is everywhere, you can read a book on John Cage if you don’t believe me.  Bad Noise turns up the volume of this perpetual ambience and scrambles its signals. 

We want to seduce you, not to turn you into a believer, but because you’re attractive and we want to touch you.  Bad Noise gives off real pheromones designed to get you high.  ‘Man needs play and danger, society gives him work and safety,’ someone said.  Bad Noise is a part of that danger.  It’s hungry and it wants to play with you.

So play with us, send us things in the mail, click our buttons, download our noise; it’s always free.

David A.

Please also read...

Biographies of your favorite Bad Noise characters   (compleat!)
Top 10 lists   (everything we like you would like to want)