(Amended 14 March 15.)
Two days ago the master hard drive containing the majority of the files representing Karl
Schmidt Verlag's output crashed after an ordinary
laptop restart. Two terabytes of data - the last seven years of my life - were suddenly gone.
Although the drive is all but dead, a robust percentage of the files are likely retrievable. However, as I'd already expressed the desire to shift KSV from its stance of fervid heresy to the more impassive realm of small-run publishing, I've decided instead to accept this still distressing setback as an opportunity to
bow out at a perfect moment.
The systemic points I outlined in 2008 have been proved. It can be done, and easily. KSV issued
nearly 400 albums over 75 months without benefit of start-up capital, resort to press pandering, or meretricious promo whoring. Its ambit was the full
spectrum of contempt, spontaneously realized, executed and ejaculated
Misinformation was essential to the effort. I frequently made cut-ups of the woefully
dullard review copy common to contemporary music journals and appended those to announcements of our releases. KSV vaulted obstacles.
Efficiency and economy were crucial to KSV's success. There was no inventory. Our few distributors were made to pay up-front. We charged vinyl prices for recordable CDs because the quality of our work was evident. Projects exploded from our larder, so we invented artists, discographies, engineers, designers, studios and locales. About 65% of the 380-odd albums issued by KSV were just me anyhow, swathed in one absurd pseudonym after another. Ich bin Katja
Fregatte. Disruption was our only goal.
I treated others' live performances as field recording exercises and manipulated the images, sounds and intentions engendered by their efforts into splintered, decontextualized versions. Some were quite unhappy with this admittedly arrogant approach, but conducting a polite survey of the somatic art slog was far too simplistic an ideal for us to pursue. Besides, others were already crawling through those fetid trenches. KSV owned its orbit.
Re hard drive crash: not all files have been lost. The works-in-progress disk was unaffected, as was the disk and master
files for the ten books KSV has so far published. Archived bits and
pieces of the collapsed master drive are extant, but I feel no need to
re-assemble the elements as they were. (This may in any case prove impossible if data archeologists come up empty.) It's a pity that I won't be able to
upload additional titles to KSV's Bandcamp page, but the first 55 (or so) releases are there, and must suffice for now.
Compared to any truly serious problem, this loss is miniscule. I'll forever
be nourished by the fortitude of our most ardent enthusiasts, and
deeply appreciative of those who intrinsically understood what I and my shadow colleagues were attempting
to accomplish. "Genre Is Obsolete" was all the manifesto you/they needed.
The most recent raft of releases, all of which were unaffected by the HDD crash, will
be shipped soon. Dave Philips' forthcoming book (with its accompanying
CD) will almost certainly be the final release from KSV Mk. 1. My 2010-2011 solo
box 72 Hours is being adapted for an exhibition and performance in the summer - its masters were also spared, as they resided on a separate drive. The
remainder - tens of thousands of files - await a far more adept practitioner of the partitioned arts
Sincere thanks for your interest and support.
KSV Mk. 2 begins NOW.