Horsecore 2008 31 «FAST»
Listen to it if you want to feel the weight of a horse blanket in July. Listen to it if you think metal isn’t ugly enough. Listen to it on the 31st of any month, at 3:31 AM, with one shoe off.
The 31 copies were allegedly sold exclusively at a single gas station off Interstate 90. Only 7 have ever been digitized. Fans of the “Horsecore” microgenre (which died in 2009 when Equinox vanished, reportedly taking a job at a Cabela’s) argue that 2008 31 is the Sgt. Pepper’s of equine-themed power electronics. Horsecore 2008 31
Equinox had no social media presence. The only surviving artifact is a single blurry photo: a figure in a gas mask, holding a rusted horse bit, standing in front of a rendering plant. Horsecore 2008 31 was his final transmission. The “31” in the title is believed to refer to both the limited run (31 hand-numbered CD-Rs) and the 31st of December—New Year’s Eve, the night the world was supposed to end. The EP is 31 minutes long. It contains four tracks, each a wall of decaying sine waves, abused pedals, and field recordings of farrier tools. Listen to it if you want to feel
Cadaver Equine Records (Self-released, CD-R, edition of 31) Released: December 31, 2008 Genre: Power Electronics / Noisegrind / Industrial Metal The Context of the Apocalypse To understand Horsecore 2008 31 , you must first understand the year. 2008 was the financial collapse, the death rattle of MySpace’s musical hegemony, and the peak of the “hyper-tag” genre era. Bands were slashing nouns together: Crabcore, Deathwave, Nintendocore. Into this void of ironic nihilism stepped a solitary figure from rural Montana, known only as Equinox . The 31 copies were allegedly sold exclusively at
The most accessible track, if you define “accessible” as “sounds like a collapsing silo.” This features a melodic element: a child’s toy xylophone playing the first four notes of “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” in reverse. The production here is too clean, suggesting the digital recording is a lie. The final 31 seconds are pure silence, then the sound of a zipper.
A minimalist industrial track built on a single sample: the mechanical walk of a Belgian draft horse pulling a plow. The rhythm is uneven—3/4 time, then 5/8. At the 5:31 mark, a piano chord (B minor) is struck once, then drowned by the sound of a 2008-era Hewlett-Packard printer printing a single page. The page is later revealed to be a map to an abandoned racetrack in Butte.