Reynols has been played on NTS shows including Delight Is Right w/ Richard Dawson, with 10 000 Chickens Symphony (Part C) first played on 23 May 2015.

Reynols is a trio of Argentinean nutters led by Down's Syndrome-afflicted drummer/vocalist Miguel Tomasin (their name was chosen randomly by a chihuahua walking on a TV remote control unit: Burt Reynolds appeared on the screen - one wonders what became of that penultimate "d"..), whose releases include a "dematerialized CD" (i.e. an empty box), a recording of 10,000 chickens in a battery farm, and an album of treated tape hiss for Bernhard Günter's trente oiseaux label. Once nearly arrested in Buenos Aires (on the grounds that they might reflect a negative image of Argentina - maybe Tomasin's next move could be to change his name to Eva Peron) for plugging their axes into pumpkins and not playing in public, the trio caught the attention of the new music media with "Pauline Oliveros in the Arms of Reynols", which brought them an invitation to play a seven-hour Lincoln Center concert with Pauline herself. All of this is well-known, but what about the music? "Bolas Tristes" is a collection of short (except for "Permuto Hojaldre" which clocks in at 13'25") nihilistic sound blasts recorded between 1994 and 1996 and originally released on cassette in England by Matching Head. Here it's "remastered" (??) and housed in a lurid fluorescent orange jewel box (the CD itself seems to have been spray-painted in the same orange and won't play on half the machines I've tried it on, which is presumably deliberate). The duff sound quality and uncompromisingly bleak feel of these pieces strikes a chord with anyone brought up on No Wave and New Wave; "Viento que sopla pajaros" sounds like early Glenn Branca on downers, and "Eco-tom" and "Colosos del Aroma" wouldn't be out of place on a Swans bootleg. The "Barbatrulos" album, recorded in 1997 and 1998, sounds remarkably similar: not since Danny and the Dressmakers' "Don't Make Another Bass Guitar Mr. Rickenbacker" has lousy drumming sounded so good. (There are no track titles, we're told, because "they" (the band, or the titles?) "went to buy osobuco [sic] to feed our chihuahua dog."..) "Minecxio", most of which dates from last year, throws together answering machine messages, TV channel signature tunes and Tomasin's banshee wailing (recorded in a steel mill from the sound of it) over a backdrop of wailing guitars and effects-loaded drumming. It's curiously compelling stuff, this strange mixture of early Red Crayola, Birthday Party and Jesus and Mary Chain (at 16rpm), and I'm half-tempted to learn Spanish just to be able to figure out what Tomasin is on about (though I'm not sure it would help much). Scrolling down the pages of the Betley Welcomes Careful Drivers website in search of information about their recent Reynols release ("- - - -"), I realize there must be hundreds, maybe thousands, of people hidden away in garages all over the world making this kind of noise, or something like it. Whether Reynols' undoubted knack for self-publicity makes their musical output more worthy of attention is debatable, but in today's Britney shitney world it's rather comforting to know these guys are out there. And out there they certainly are.