GYAKUSATSU Interview
Gyakusatsu is a noise industrial project born in Barcelona that feels made with an obsessive purpose, to unleash chaos and suggestive vibrations. Created by Oskar as a way to push raw sounds, distortions, and harsh structures without worrying about polish or comfort. The following interview comes from that same place, moving freely through Gyakusatsu, his other project Persona, his label Marbre Negre, and the ideas that naturally grow when someone spends years inside noise, releasing records, building their own space, and using sound as a way to think, resist and stay honest, not as a product to please anyone but as a form of lived intensity that keeps grinding forward.
Greetings, Oscar and welcome to the first issue of Spiral Transmissions!!! What was the vital or emotional turning point that led you to conceive Gyakusatsu as a channel of extreme sound expression? And how does the name "Gyakusatsu" (massacre) relate to your artistic, emotional, and spiritual vision?
Hello and thank you very much for the interview, it was a pleasure. I've been interested in extreme noise for a long time. It all started with Persona, the project I shared with Desirée, as well as the record label Marbre Negre. I'm currently the sole director of label, and Persona is no longer in existence... It was the logical step; in Persona, there were two of us, and we didn't always agree, which enriched the project. I wanted louder and more extreme sounds, both musically, lyrically, and in live performances. I wanted to explore my inner self (my mind), trying to take my obsessions and passions to the next level. To push my mind and body. I chose the name Gyakusatsu, first and foremost, because of the power the word emanates; it also fits perfectly with what I wanted to express.
Do you see noise as a form of personal catharsis, a political weapon or a symbolic ritual? Or all at once? What philosophical, aesthetic or esoteric influences feed your compositional and performative approach?
Yes, it's a catharsis and a ritual at the same time. I haven't been interested in politics for a while now. Everything I do with Gyakusatsu is very thoughtful, always dealing with personal themes, heavily influenced by authors like Jung, Crowley, Spare, Burrows (generally all the Beats), the writings of Genesis p-orridge, Ligotti..., the Third Reich, the magic of Chaos, the Greek classics, lived or imagined experiences, the Old Testament—I could go on for a while, hehe. For a long time, I was fascinated by serial killers; In fact, they still fascinate me, hehe. With all this, I try to express my feelings, creating a harsh noise and with lyrics that speak of death, suicide, depression, all filtered through my experiences. Live, I try to take it a step further, ritualizing the staging in a mix of images, noise, and performances, sometimes even going so far as to self-harm (cutting, hitting myself).
What does "virtual death" mean to you taking as a reference the album "Guia Per a Una Mort Virtual"? Is it a metaphysical, technological, or emotional concept? And what was the conceptual process to build this album and how is it linked to the idea of identity, disappearance and memory?
The idea came to me like a dream while reading some stories by my beloved Ballard. Suddenly, I began to connect those stories with Kabbalah and technological advances, with my mental escape into other states of consciousness, all of it put through the blender in my head. In part, it's about the loss of memory, of our identity, due to or thanks to enormous technological advances. How little by little we become small, insignificant...
What resources did you use to translate that symbolic death into the language of Harsh Noise? How do you work with sound as if it were funeral material? Does "virtual death" also allude to digital alienation, to the impossibility of really dying in the hyperconnected world?
Ninety percent of the time, I start by creating the piece in my head, how it should sound, although usually the first thing that comes to mind is the lyrics. Then I connect the pedals, the Trogotronic or any other synth, the contact microphones, and the harmonica microphone I use for the vocals.
The process is always the same:
1. The idea emerges in my head.
2. I connect the equipment and experiment until I find the desired sound.
3. I transfer the lyrics from my head to paper.
4. I record. The recording method has changed. At first, I recorded per track, but lately I record everything at once.
Tell us about the album "five" by "Gyakusatsu" and what does the number "five" represent in this work? Is there an esoteric, biographical or symbolic reference behind the title? Was the intention with album to generate an internal narrative or did you conceive it as an abstract sequence of emotions and sound pulses?
Like many other times, the idea came from a book I was reading, in this case about Crowley and fantasy cinema. The number five symbolizes Grace and divine provision, the Mother. The five victims of Jack the Ripper immediately came to mind. I sealed this whole amalgam of things with some small containers containing my blood, closing the circle.
What roles do repetition and saturation play in generating altered states of consciousness in this album? And what did you want to provoke in the listener with this work? Is it a journey, a collapse, or an implosion?
Repetition is very important; it takes you to higher and altered states of consciousness, though not always, of course; you have to seek them out. I don't seek to provoke anything, but at the same time, I seek to provoke everything. In fact, I do it to provoke/free my mind. If it provokes something in someone, that's fantastic and I'm happy, but that's not my main intention. In that sense, I consider myself selfish. But as with other people's music, I suppose I'll provoke something, haha. What? I don't know.
Could you tell us about what kind of creative ritual arises when you collaborate with Soma on live recording sessions? What is the value of the ephemeral and the unedited in these joint recordings? What is lost and what is gained by giving up post-production?
It's incredible; from the very beginning, there was a great chemistry. Nothing is ever prearranged; it's completely unplanned. Everyone grabs their gear, plugs it in, and we start recording. It's cathartic, liberating, overwhelming. We always record it on the air with a handheld recorder, without post-production or mastering. That's the beauty of the project: it stays as it comes out; it's very direct, uncompromising, spontaneous.
Due to the number of collaborations with other projects, I ask you, what kind of emotional or telepathic connection do you need with the other artist to immerse yourself in the most raw improvisation? What does fidelity to sound chaos as a vehicle of pure expression represent for you?
Normally, all my collaborations arise from a bond of friendship, although not always, logically. In that case, first, I have to like what they're doing, of course, and second, and more importantly, I have to perceive that there's some kind of connection; that's more of a mental matter for me. But without that connection, there's no collaboration. I've tried it before, and the results aren't optimal.
Why the title "Weisse Strasse" in German? What does that "White Street" represent from your creative perspective? Could we think of this work as a journey towards luminous annihilation, towards a total whiteness that consumes all identity?
I don't remember which book I was reading, but it mentioned a white street, and I immediately had images from when I lived in Germany. At that time, there were still white streets in my head. It represents the time I have left to walk the path, and yes, toward annihilation. It represents the death of the ego, of the physical, loneliness...
What role does the aesthetics of the clinical, the mortuary, or the anesthetic play in this work? And how did you work on the visual and physical concept of the cassette in relation to the sound texture? Was there any influence from film, literature, or painting that resonated in the creation of this album?
Aesthetically, it's very simple and direct: a huge building with a glimpse of a Tontenkopf in the background. Representing the white, empty streets of my interior. The slow path toward the end, death.
"The Path of Death" is a work that seems to touch on the deeply intimate. What was it like to face grief through noise? And what does the contents of the packaging: syringe, vial, postcards in symbolic and ritual terms? What personal transformation occurred in you at the end of this trilogy?
These were three very difficult projects to tackle, all created with my mother's death in mind. It was my way of saying goodbye. They represent illness and suffering. The postcards, in particular, are drawings made by my niece, who was 9 years old at the time. All within a highly ritualized context, which I won't explain because it's too long and very personal. It all started a year before her death. The doctor gave her one year to live and told her he would try to make sure she had the best time possible, without too much pain. The truth is, that last year was one of the best she'd had in recent times in terms of pain and quality of life. So, I created a sigil, just after she was admitted for the final time, and I tattooed it on my right gastrocnemius the intention of protecting her and ensuring the most peaceful last moments possible. It worked; she left calm and relaxed. She was given one year to live, and lasted a year and a month. Rest in peace.
In "Live at the Red Room" you culminate this trilogy with a brutal live recording. What does a live show represent for you in terms of catharsis? How does the "death trilogy" manifest itself in the context of a live show?
I have to clarify that this was a fake live performance; there was no audience. I don't know the exact date, and only HER attended. Many parts of that time are blurred and obscured. It was a concert for and by HER. It was truly liberating.
How do you control (or let go of) the energy in such an emotionally charged presentation? Is there a magical intention in the choice of venue, time and state of mind in your live performances?
In the previous case, it's very clear that yes, it was a ritual with a very specific intention: to say goodbye to my mother. In most concerts, these elements aren't possible; it's very difficult to perform these extreme musical styles live (there's a lack of venues that allow you to do it), but fortunately, I've been able to achieve what I had in mind on occasion, and it's a very rewarding experience.
Your work is full of medical, surgical, drug, autopsy symbolism. What role does the body and its degradation have within the aesthetics and ethics of Gyakusatsu? Do you think that harsh noise allows pain to be transmitted in a more honest or direct way than other genres?
It's something that has always fascinated me, even before starting Gyakusatsu and even before discovering all these extreme noise genres. I was very clear about it when I started the project: it would be a way to "bring to light" all my phobias, obsessions, and paranoias. I don't know if it allows me to convey pain in a more honest way, but in my case, it does, or at least I try.
On the album Khem with Nox 210 you approach the Kaula Vama Marg. How did this connection come about? What actual ritual elements were integrated into the recording? How did you work with NOX 210? Was there a ritual script, a sound scheme or simply organized chaos?
I have very fond memories of this work, and it's one of my first recordings as Gyakusatsu. I think it turned out to be a very good piece. Everything came together very naturally. The idea interested me from the beginning; at the time, I was reading a lot about the "left-hand path" and Crowley's sexual rituals. From those premises, I tried to center the noise on those rituals, imagining how it would all fit together, and I think we succeeded. From my perspective, it was organized chaos.
How do you integrate the erotic-tantric into an aesthetic that could seem brutal or industrial? Do you think that spirituality, when it joins noise, ceases to be light and becomes blood?
From the outside, it must be difficult to appreciate this. I was actually discussing it with a friend (David de Soma) that because it's unstructured noise, you can't perceive what it's trying to convey, and the highly distorted voices don't help you understand anything either, which doesn't bother me. I prefer that everyone understand what they want and draw their own conclusions. I like the idea of spirituality transmuted into blood through noise. We should make a sequel; the proposal is out there...
Do you think that Harsh Noise or Power Electronics music can have a therapeutic or initiatory function? And what is the difference between listening to Gyakusatsu as a listener and living it as a performer?
In my case, yes, it's therapeutic. It keeps me more or less sane and focused. I think the big difference is that as a listener, you may or may not like what I do, apart from whether or not you understand what I'm talking about in my songs. Then there's my process for creating the work, the subject matter I cover, the samples I use (it's not always clear why I use certain samples, but everything has a reason). For me, it's something personal, physical, and emotional. I guess it's more intense for me than it is for the listeners, or not.
What was the genesis of Marbre Negre? What led you to found the label in a context where self-publishing sometimes seems more like an act of resistance than a sustainable company? And how do you decide which projects to release? How important is it for you to maintain a limited-edition, arartisanal, and extremely careful ethic?
It all started for the publication of Persona. Both the project and the record label were created by Desirée and me. Persona has since ceased operations, and I'm left as the sole director of Marbre Negre. As I said, it was created to release Persona. It all started with a dirty trick that some supposed friends played on us at the time. While they came over and we spent time together, they secretly talked shit about Persona and about us with the label that was supposed to release our CD, Ruïnes. Those supposed friends finally released it on what was supposed to be our record label. Suddenly, we found ourselves without a label and without those friends. We decided to create our own, and 20 years later, I'm still here, and the supposed friends and the label have disappeared. I've seen that the label has only released a couple of releases in the last 20 years. My philosophy is to publish things that I would like to buy if they were published by another label. It also has to fall within the parameters of Noise, Dark ambient, and similar styles.
It's selling poorly right now, and I prefer to release it in smaller quantities while maintaining quality and being able to continue publishing.
What has been the most extreme, disturbing or transformative project you have edited under Marbre Negre, and why?
Wow, a difficult choice. To name just one, the Hermann Kopp and Mekurabe split. I loved being able to release this legend, whom I greatly admire and who makes incredible music. Plus, the cassette design was amazing. The whole package is fantastic. I know it's wrong to name this work because the B-side of the cassette is one of my projects, in this case with Kike from Tube Tentacles, but it's truly one of the works I'm most proud of on the label, and I have very fond memories of the entire creative process.
How was Persona born as a musical project? While Gyakusatsu immerses himself in Harsh Noise and industrial ritual, Persona seems to explore more ethereal, poetic or melancholic areas. Is this your other self, your shadow, or your refuge?
It was born from the union of Desirée and me. When we met, we longed to have a project together. We both had experience working on other projects. Shortly after, we received the sad news of Koji Tano's (MSBR) death. We saw that Steinklang Industries was preparing a tribute compilation, and we decided to make a song, and Persona emerged. Those were magnificent years, where we tried to create something different with its own distinct personality. Thanks to Desirée's excellent voice (one of the best in these styles) and her great compositional potential, I think we managed to create something interesting. We tried to blend martial with small doses of noise and dark ambient; by combining all these elements with our passion for film and literature, the result was Persona.
How are both projects related to each other? Is there a common narrative between Persona and Gyakusatsu, or do they represent polar opposites? Which Persona albums do you consider essential to understand your evolution as a sound artist and human being?
More than a relationship, it's the opposite. Gyakusatsu is the wildest and most aggressive part of Persona, unfiltered, exploring more extreme themes and sounds. Persona was more relaxed, especially at the end, darker, with more recognizable structures that can be understood as a song, and above all, Desirée's voice standing out above all else. They did have one thing in common: very dark lyrics, perhaps focused on more extreme and esoteric themes with Gyakusatsu, and more philosophical with Persona. Without a doubt, the cornerstone of Persona was the CD "Ruïnes" and the EP "Resistència." "Ruïnes" contains the entire essence of Desirée and me; it is the culmination of our learning as musicians and contains all the elements that would later lead to the creation of my other projects.
Do you think that Persona and Gyakusatsu could one day merge into a single ritual act or are they mutually exclusive? Thank you so much for the answers and your last words here!!
Unfortunately, or fortunately, this merger will never happen, as Persona ceased operations years ago. Thank you so much for the interview and the opportunity to try to explain my philosophy, although I don't know if I've clarified anything or, on the contrary, created even more confusion. From here, I want to send a warm greeting to all the people I've collaborated with and who have given me the opportunity to continue learning. Enjoy the noise and try to be yourself.
MARBRE NEGRE
https://marbrenegre.bandcamp.com










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