​The bleary, blurry, bleaky MV Carbon has been a staple of the New York avant-garde since relocating here from Chicago in the mid-'00s. After lurching up from the No Fun circuit as one half of Metalux, she's been renown for her nauseous reel-to-reel tape manipulations and cello sawing—which you could catch everywhere from a residency at Issue Project Room, scoring Warhol films at the Metropolitan or the P.S. 1 Warm Up. Her latest solo outing, Dislodged Perehelion (released via Ecstatic Peace and limited to 300 copies), is a bowel-twisting slurry of decaying tapenoize, shimmering synths, broken drum machine loops and Carbon's no wave yowl. "Sidewalk Scrapes" is a busy splatter painting where you can hear traces of Sonic Youth's Goo-crunch and Lydia Lunch's downtown sniping deep inside a dizzying swamp of noise, not to mention a fairly rocking sample of some '80s mersh-metal.

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In Waste Of Paint, our writer/artist team of Jamie Peck and Debbie Allen will review goings-on about town in words and images.

This past weekend was a glorious cultural swan dive for Debbie and me that started uptown in the hallowed halls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, sailed down through some semi-respectable venues, and ultimately plunged into the whiskey-soaked depths of a 1 a.m. Rolling Stones cover show at Mercury Lounge. We regret nothing.

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