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To be clear, the use of “hausen” in place of “house” was never intended to conjure images of Stockhausen’s imperious visage blotting out the sun while The Stooges sloppily approximated Kontakte. The textual substitution is funny, at least to me, and immediately telegraphs an oppositional absurdity: the visceral and primal, instinct-driven Dionysia of The Stooges vs. the maxi-cerebral, post-war avant garde theoreticism of which Stockhausen was emblematic. I wanted to be celebratory, not conservatory. However, I do have an abiding respect for the scientific, studied dissection of sound(s) that Stockhausen and, more significantly for me, people like Pierre Schaeffer and Pierre Henry undertook in the 1950s and 60s. I deeply admire those figures from the past that chose to endure hours upon hours of rigor and onerous exactitude, editing and manipulating tape, sometimes taking days to realize mere minutes of final audio that they often couldn’t predict with any certainty would end up being useful. Now, that takes passion and a type of unbreakable devotion, which The Stooges had for a time as well. And, my own humble process for assembling Funhausen, despite being stitched and jigsaw-puzzled in a digital environment, required a similar tenacity and ability to take the pain. There's the link.