Someone very nicely put Crank Sturgeon under this heading of noise, so I'll follow through. As Crank Sturgeon (um, that'd be me), I'm very grateful to be included as a member of the community. I do make noise; I also make vocal sounds, contact mics, collage, destroyed folk musings, bad poems (which I like to project on walls), and visual disturbances in the form of installations, masks, and assemblages with motors that belch and spit stuff out. In general? I've been recording and performing since 1990; as Crank Sturgeon since '92. My (human) influences are Dada, Hugo Ball, Joseph Beuys, Rube Goldberg, James Joyce, Bucky Fuller, Max Ernst, Kurt Schwitters/Merz, Antonin Artaud, Allan Kaprow, John Cage, Marcel Duchamp, Captain Beefheart, the Residents, Lloyd Kahn, Donald Burgy, and Fred Frith; (nonhuman) influences? I like pointy-nosed beasts, bizarre landscapes like Turkey (or Montana), and so forth. And then there are the people who provide inspiration in the day-to-day tangle (many of whom are also good pals): Id m Theft Able, Eric Boros, Vialka, Emil Beaulieau, Kit Demos, de Hondenkoekjesfabriek, Fever Spoor, Fritz Welch, Hans Michaud, Southernman, Abandoned Records, Gastric Female Reflex, Jelle Crama, Colin Barton, PCRV, Xome, Nautical Almanac, Cerberus Shoal, Massaccesi, QfwfQ, Micha Barthel, Raionbashi, Dennis Tyfus, Monopolka, Dave Philips, Kelly Nesbitt, and Clog Wornago. Friends 'r good: they keep the membrane from becoming a redundant meme by constantly poking new holes in it and inspiring you; they raise the bar of expectation every single time. So I do my damnedest to at least TRY and do this with my work as well. It doesn't always work, but the worst failures are often the best boards to leap from. As a result, I've learned to try and turn accidents into pleasureable and fun experiences as they happen. A surprising consequence of this is that it forces the "art" back into a stream of conscious dynamic; no matter how familiar one is with one's tools or work, it can always be turned upside down and improvised into something new. Applying this to a live context, it almost feels more narrative than "noise", per se, although I prefer the energy of noise vs that of institutionalized art and academic crowds. But then again, we're all human... so very serious and yet all it takes is slipping on a banana peel or some other cosmic fuck-up to place us all back onto the same planet and playing field. I guess I shoulda' gone into something geared more towards studying human behavior, but ahhh you know? noise feels more at home.