They had us at DOOM BAND, NO STRINGS. Just drums, sax, and TUBA. That's IT. FUCKING tuba and sax, seriously, no guitar, no bass, just two horns and a drum kit, and these guys kick up a sound that dwarfs plenty of bands with axes to spare. Bellows is the perfect name for these guys, cuz the lungs on these guys must be like bellows, the horns moan and howl, the sax especially, the lead instrument, is wrapped in effects, and essential lays down some wailing, FX drenched, leads, that squeal and howl, the bands lock into killer lurching groove, the tuba, letting loose with an elephant roar low end, the sax just as often laying down a weird sheet of hiss or washed out drone, sometimes so effected it sounds like some fucked up synthesizer. And the drums, heavy and chaotic and mathy, the band locked into lurching lumbering dirges, post rocky workouts, and full on noise rock freakouts. It's a little like a marching band gone over to the darkside, some sinister assembly held in the deepest recesses of hell. The vocals are also bellowed, distorted and growled, venomous and malevolent, giving the sound a distinctly nineties East Coast noise rock Cop Shoot Cop sort of vibe. There's always a groove, but it's typically a woozy doomic one, the drums driving the sound big time, but those horns are just insane, some of the sounds they get out of 'em, on "Haunts" it's all drums and tuba, while the sax unfurls a creepy minor key melody, over and over, so hypnotic, before the track breaks down, and the low end is transformed into what sounds like a choir of throat singers, while the sax bleats and trills, and the drums just bludgeon.
There are moments, where the sound borders on jazzy, it's sort of unavoidable, but we're talking face melting Brotzmann style jazz, and that jazziness is inevitably all filtered through some crusty, creepy, blown out super distorted space doom filter, that makes these guys sound absolutely like no one else, and just as often as it gets jazzy, it gets something else, "Story Of A Giant" is all spaced out and almost waltzy, and there's no way you could tell the instrumentation, the sax unfurling shimmery psychedelic clouds of tangled melody, the tuba a thick bass throb, all wrapped in a druggy haze, and on the record closer, "Half-Life", the sax is super processed and becomes some fractured angular noisemaking machine, leading the group into an extended drone-out, all long tones, chanted vocals, swirling effects, total psych drone trip out, before finally slipping into a woozy jazzy outro, and finally a crushing chugging closing burst of ultra distorted crunch.
Fuck yeah. Came close to making this a fourth Record Of The Week!
Belong are just one of many new bands exploring the sound of decay. The sound of music within murk, the sound of pop, melted down and smeared into shapeless forms. For a while there it seemed like every band was lacing their delicate pop with bits of glitch and electronic shimmer. To the point where ANY band, no matter what they sounded like originally, were suddenly 'experimental' with nothing but a bit of crackle and bleep added to the mix. A similar thing has happened lately, another movement has taken hold, of bands burying their sounds under distorted drones, blistering feedback, bleary eyed shimmer, oceans of crackle, sounds pulled apart and layered into strange organic ambient blurs. We're not complaining though, we've long been proponents of distressed sound. The more distressed and heavy and fucked up and crackly and distorted the better. The problem lies in the fact that a movement usually entails everyone and their brother suddenly wanting to sound like whatever band or sound is 'happening' at the moment. SUNNO))) spawned a legion off doomdrone combos, and these movements are not all that different.
A band, be they pop or metal or whatever, can wrap everything in buzz and distortion and suddenly whatever genre they were can get hyphenated with the suffix GAZE, or alternately, a band can blur everything, slow it down, make it muddier and murkier and dronier, and voila, become a doomdronewhatever outfit.
But with all these things, it's not as easy as the truly amazing artists make it sound. And this becomes evident on almost first listen. Anyone can plug their guitar into a laptop, but no one can create gauzy gristly soundscapes like Fennesz. Anyone can tune way down and let their guitars ring out, let riffs crumble to pieces, but it takes more than that to make something a compelling listen.
From the very first listen to Belong's last full length, October Language, we knew these guys were special. They were one of those bands who had the sound down, but were using the sound to create glorious sonic worlds of their own invention. Not aping anyone else's sounds, merely absorbing elements, and transforming them into something new, and distinctly Belong. And the other thing about Belong, was they weren't just making beautiful noise, they were writing songs, that were infused with beautiful noises, sometimes obfuscated by them, but there was always a song, a melody, never just sound for sound's sake.
This new four song ep takes things even further, by being about someone else's songs. Reinventing, reimagining, reinterpreting the sounds of four different artists, and making them all sound like they could have come from nowhere else than this mysterious entity known as Belong.
The first might be the best of the bunch, and it's no coincidence that it's the most song-y. A Syd Barrett cover, via the somewhat more obscure Cleaners From Venus, "Late Night" in the hands of Belong becomes an epic sweeping cinematic warped record spinning underwater, on the surface of some alien moon, beneath the warm glow of twin suns. Soaring vocals, gorgeous melodies, all beneath a thick churning lush wall of crumbling, shimmering sound. Woozy and seasick, dizzying, dense and warm and absolutely gorgeous, it's almost like a more blurred and buzzed version of Oval, digital skipping replaced by indistinct slow motion riffage, everything gauzy and washed out. The other three tracks, covers of '60s psych pop songs by Tintern Abbey, Billy Nicholls and July, are even more ethereal, almost choral sounding, voices and streaks of sound drifting in a softly churning sea of hum and whir, and breathy blur. The final track a thick, viscous outro, the July original barely audible beneath a blown out swirl of creeping low end and free floating metallic flutter, somehow sounding heavy and intense, but laid back and soporific at the same time, eventually fading to a whispery hum. So good. Definitely one of our favorite groups exploring the world of distressed / decayed / deconstructed / dreamy / dronelike sound.
SUPER LIMITED! ONLY 300 COPIES!! Each one hand made by the group using recycled sleeves.
There are certain sounds we can just never get enough of. Belong have always trafficked in one of those sounds, a blurred, bleary washed out droney, druggy drift, everything hazy and gauzy and pixelated, crumbling melodies, slow shifting textures, like old pop songs broadcast through broken transistor radios, or alien transmissions distorted by millions of miles of space and millions of years, every song some sort of dizzyingly smeared blown out, hushed and haunting dronescape, all thrum and shimmer, rumble and whir. It's a sound practiced by others for sure, but there is most definitely a pantheon, a royalty of sorts, and alongside Tim Hecker, Philip Jeck and few others, so too do sit Belong.
It's been maybe 5 years since their last proper full length, the gloriously abstract and distorted loveliness that was October Language, and since then, they've released a single 4 song ep, a record of covers, but of course utterly transformed, the very poppiness of the originals buried underneath layer upon layer of murk and grim and buzz and crunch, and again all stretched and blurred and smeared into these fantastical miniature epics, these avant pop flecked drones, warm and whirling and completely mesmerizing.
Looking back now, listening to Common Era, Belong's brand new full length, it's easy to say, that those covers were already hinting at a sonic shift, a move toward something more traditionally pop, a gradual approach to something more structured, more overtly pop, but the 'pop' of those songs is WAY removed from the pop found here, for Common Era has taken all that fantastic shoegaziness and shimmery ambience, and wrapped it around real and proper pop songs. Simple propulsive percussion, minimal guitar jangle, swaths of swirling keyboards, hushed breathy vox, everything reverbed and echoey and washed out, a sort of eighties style new wave minimal pop, but of course in the hands of Belong, it becomes something more ethereal, ghostly, ephemeral, druggy and dreamy.
Imagine My Bloody Valentine crossed with Tim Hecker crossed with Felt, maybe stir in some of Ariel Pink's idiosyncratic faux FM radio pop, and that's these perfect abstract, minimal chunks of lilting jangle, often buried in billowing clouds of warm swirling FX and softly distorted shimmer, but just as often, with much of the noisiness peeled back, leaving just some pure pop, and even then, it's muted and muddied, like it's being broadcast from some rift in time, a sort of blurred transmission from the past, pretty fantastic. Some of the tracks get downright spacey too, a sort of kraut flecked hypnorock, the takes the minimal repetitive psych of groups like Moon Duo or Wooden Shjips, and slathers on tons more echo and reverb, wreaths everything in blurred synth swirls, and fuzzy low end pulses, and lets the songs just sort of ooze and drift and hover, gradually becoming less and less pop, and more loose and abstract and woozy and washed out and dreamy. But ALL the tracks on Common Era never fully give up the pop. For all the droniness, and the minimal FX drenched soundscapery, this is essentially a gorgeous, albeit, strange and mysterious, pop record.
The funny thing is, since these guys are on Kranky, and their last few records were more minimal and droney and avant, this record will essentially be considered art, a sort of high brow minimalist pop music, or some sort of dronepop, and so, of course, all the folks who love everything Kranky, will no doubt dig this like crazy, as they should. But had this been a super limited cd-r, or been released on Not Not Fun or maybe Olde English Spelling Bee, this would be hailed as THEE lysergic lo-fi minimal bedroom pop jam of the year. WHICH IT IS. Too. In fact, Belong have managed to somehow make a record that's both a strange druggy lo-fi pop record, and a super abstract avant bit of poppy droney prettiness. And we LOVE it.
Belong, belong (couldn't resist) in a world of washed out sound, faded memories and blistering layers of sound. Imagine the warm crackles of Endless Summer era Fennesz, a touch of Godspeed You Black Emperor aimed at monumental peaks and valleys, a Flying Saucer Attack eyes half closed eyes half open delivery with a My Bloody Valentine shimmering layer of sound thrown in for good measure. A duo from New Orleans, Belong do a really nice job of taking from their influences but also having their own unique take on the whole gauzy smeary ambient free noise sound. Their take being a thick heady blast of sound that doesn't at all lose any of its gauzy dreaminess. October Language is that great kind of record that can take on different lives when played soft vs. loud. It allows you to enjoy it quiet, as a textural layer that you can dream beneath or drift away on top of. Or you can blast Belong and they'll take you out of your dreams, and your head and into another state completely. So nice!
There have been a whole bunch of killer installments in Table Of The Elements' recent guitar based series of one sided 12"s: Oren Ambarchi, Lee Ranaldo, Jon Mueller, but this is the one everyone seems to have been waiting for.
Especially considering what went on with the last belong 12". We sold out in a flash, got more and then sold out again, we couldn't keep that in stock. Well, we're happy to report that this latest is just as good if not better. Whereas the other 12" was all covers, the single looooong track here is an original and it's a doozy. A warm, washed out, dreamy, delicate, gauzy blurred woozy drift of pixilated sound. Jeck, Tim Hecker, Fennesz, all those guys have nothing on Belong. If anything, Belong take those sorts of sound and transform them into something more organic, more amorphous. "Same Places" sounds almost like actual people playing actual guitars, instead of something assembled on a computer. Layered and dense, the melodies obscured by thick swells of fuzzy whir, the fact that this is the "slow version" does explain how gorgeously glacial it sounds, and how many of the tones do sound like someone with their finger on the vinyl slowing the record player down to a crawl, but all that does is let the lowend sprawl, the melodies become even more abstract, pulled apart, and slowed down to the point where their constituent parts almost separate and drift away, almost. Instead, it's an underwater whirl, everything shimmery and indistinct, the sound as you sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, but instead of getting darker, the sounds begin to glow from within, bathing you in their unearthly light. So totally gorgeous.
Pressed on thick clear vinyl. One sided, the other side with a super bad ass etching by Savage Pencil, housed in a thick vinyl sleeve, and of course, as always LIMITED!
From the land of Godspeed You Black Emperor (Quebec, Canada), and creating a very similar sonic landscape, are Below The Sea. Slow steps of sparse guitar twangs. Lonely long washes of strings. Dialogue drifting in and out. Solemn and ethereal.
Live record from this Austrian black/death metal band. Featuring butchered babies and distorted Last Suppers on their album covers, Belphegor have been spitting out their brand of satanic black metal for three albums now, and this cd collects some of the best tracks from those records. Sharing some elements with the mighty Marduk and their countrymen Abigor, Belphegor are raw and blurry buzzsaw black metal, mostly lightspeed tempos with furious drumming and a wash of minor key anguish. Live, black metal seems to not hold up so well, but this recording is quite good, with just enough separation between the instruments to keep it from becoming a big distorted mess, and a brutal and intense performance to boot.
Third demonic blast from this Austrian black metal band, and easily their best. Takes the primitive buzzsaw blur of their earlier records a step forward, with better production, better songs, better playing and even more pictures of naked demon ladies,
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Greenferno is the latest cloud of sickly sweet, Satanic, sonic bongsmoke from these Polish stoner heavies, and if the band name, and the album name, and the song titles ("Diabolical Dopenosis", "Inhale In Hell", "Undertoker", and "Goat Smokin Blues") didn't clue you in, these guys traffic in wasted riffage, massive Sabbathy stoner sludge, which as always, owes much to all the other bong-bands that came before (Bong Ripper, Bongzilla, and, er, Bong!), but these guys are HEAVY, and have some serious swagger and swing. It's tough to pull of instrumental music without being boring, but somehow, these extended jams are totally hypnotic, and super dynamic, lumbering from churning doomic crush, to more laid back, psychedelic slither. There are some stoner appropriate samples here and there of course, but really, it's about the RIFFS, and the vibe, and these guys are doped out masters. Every track here (the shortest clocking in at a still respectable 6 minutes) delivers bleary eared blasts of blown out heaviosity, wild shredding, FX drenched leads, epic drum pound, all of it utterly headbangable, but also head noddingly drugged-out. We consider ourselves pretty serious connoisseurs of stoner metal, even the non stoners among us (maybe ESPECIALLY the non-stoners), and these guys are definitely amongst our favorite sonic bong slingers. Totally recommended for those jonesing for some seriously wasted, skull crushing, mind expanding, stoner bliss!
Latest in a long line of dopesmoke driven, Sabbath worshipping, downtuned stoner sludge heavies, these guys hail from Poland, and take their drug rock cues from all the usual suspects: Sleep (of course), Eyehategod, Electric Wizard, etc. It's all instrumental, so it's all about the riffs, and the riffs here are pretty goddamn great, dense, blackened, skull caving, slabs of thick, ugly, crumbling, distorted buzz and crunch, riding atop some of the sickest bass rumble around, the drums a Neanderthal pound driving the lurching dopesick creep, the slithery stoner swing and lumbering doomic plod laced with spidery melodies, and brief blasts of psychedelic wah wah guitars and woozy FX, the tempos are occasionally cranked up to a serious stonery groove, the band sounding like some lost Meteor City band, but Belzebong seem to always eventually slip back into a more woozy, warped, glacial tarpit trudge. The lack of vocals is made up for with some strange tripped out samples, and the tracks sprawl and ooze and stretch way out, to the point that they definitely seem less HEAVY, and more sort of tripped out and wasted... Definitely not reinventing the bong, but hell, folks who love their shit hard and heavy, low slung, blown out and burnt, this will definitely hit the spot.
In the early days of the Time Released Sound label, almost all of the releases were tiny 3" cd-r's, gorgeously packaged and meticulously assembled, with the small size somehow adding to the idiosyncrasy and art-like presentation of the releases. Years on and MANY releases later, TRS has dipped back into 3" territory with this little gem, a single 20 minute track of hushed, ethereal drift, rumbling thrum, soft focus swells and raw field recordings, all blurred and smeared into a brief, but emotionally riveting sonic travelogue, thematically focused on flooding and climate change and our permanently damaged ecosystem, but for all that conceptual heaviness, the music itself is airy and ethereal, melancholy, but also strangely hopeful, like the sound of the sun, breaking through the clouds. So lovely. This TRS release only comes in ONE version, and is limited to just 50 copies. Each one is a randomly encased collection of organic and manmade detritus, embedded in polyurethane, housed in a plastic medical tray, the discs hand stamped, and there's a printed insert/photograph attached to the box with a clear stamped band.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
One of the more understated figures in Tropicalia gets one of his best but equally understated albums reissued. Forca Bruta, from 1970, didn't yield any of the hits he was known for such as "Chove Chuva", "Mas Que Nada" or "Umbabarauma", but it's still one of his best collections of songs. Backed by Trio Mocoto, who accompanied Ben through many of his biggest hits, Forca Bruta is a more mellow groover of samba soul that despite its simpler acoustic arrangements packs a powerful punch with some seriously amazing musicianship. Ben wasn't as radical a political figure as his compatriots Gilberto Gil or Caetano Veloso, but was instrumental in importing West African rhythm influences into his music which was influential in both Veloso's and Gil's musical development. Awesome reissue, highly recommended!
After listing and loving and shouting from the hilltops about Caetano Veloso's, Gal Costa's and Gilberto Gil's self-titled 1969 records, we got another to add to the bunch, this stunner from Jorge Ben. Ben was more sympatico with Tropicalia than a full fledged member but he was held in high esteem by all involved including Rogerio Duprat who produced this record (And all the others mentioned above!). Unlike the Tropicalistas, he never turned his back on the traditions of samba, instead infusing it with soul, psychedelia and funk rhythms (provided by Trio Mocoto, the top shelf Brazillian rhythm section). The original version of "Pais Tropical" which was covered by Gal Costa, appears here, and the Theremin that introduces "Descobri Que Eu Sou Um Ajo" puts that track on par with Os Mutantes' best material. A beautiful revolutionary jam that will make your summer even more worthwhile!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Jazz composer Gregg Bendian offers up a musical tribute to legendary Marvel Comics artist Jack Kirby (1917-1994 RIP). Thus the heroic four-color Kirby artwork that adorns this disc, the liner notes from Kirby collaborators like Stan Lee, and yes, the
Beneath The Lake is the new ambient drone project of Nicolas Lampert, who was one third of AQ faves Noisegate, a bay area crusty, death-drone-ambient project with two records out on Andee's tUMULt label. Beneath The Lake finds Nicolas and new partner Dave Canterbury exploring similar sonic space as Noisegate did on their last full length 'Suspended Animation', but with more emphasis on the nature of sound and a much more dense and heavily layered approach. Utilising cello, guitar, pedals, processors and environmental recordings of sea lions, water, whales, wasps, wolves, owls and wind, Beneath The Lake manage to create rumbling pulsing drones that feel somehow alive, with organic thrum and cavernous shimmers, sounds slipping in and out of the sonic landscape, sparse and desolate one moment, lush and overpowering the next. Haunting and chillingly beautiful. One of our new favorite drone records.
This is record number two from Beneath The Lake, whose first record from 2002, Inside The Passage, was a huge hit around these parts. BTL is made up of Nicolas Lampert, who was one half of Oakland ambient terrorists Noisegate, who released two records on Andee's tUMULt label, and Dave Canterbury who is a fixture of the noise underground performing as Wage Class Slave. Beneath The Lake is a project based on creating soundscapes combining minimal ambient music and found sounds, with an emphasis on composing the music to compliment the sounds instead of just using the sounds as a backdrop. Where their first record focused more on nature, Silent Uprising shifts the focus a bit more toward the increasing influence of the urban landscape as cities continue to encroach on nature and change the balance forever. The record begins with the clatter of trains rushing past, the receding sound of the train is soon joined by a simple strident guitar riff, accompanied by a mournful wooden recorder. The two drift and shift and slowly build in intensity. Very reminiscent of Neurosis at their most mellow, surprisingly enough. The riff shifts and twists, shadowed by the recorders melodies eventually being joined by the sound of another train and eventually being drowned out by the roar of the wheels on the tracks. The second track is a simple, gorgeously melancholy guitar melody, slowly and deliberately picked, over a bed of crackly static that could be either the sound of rain falling or the crackle of a fire, or both. The sound on Silent Uprising is much more musical than on Inside The Passage with the drone being relegated to just one of many instruments / approaches as opposed to the very dark and slow shifting all encompassing drone of the earlier record. Here, it's -that- guitar, all dark and shimmering and reverberant, and the brooding slow building melodies that creep across the sonic landscape. It sometimes almost sounds like the slow core of Low being performed in a steel mill or a rail yard, the band struggling to be heard over the sound of rain and wind and trains and passing cars. Strangely powerful and poignant. Packaged in a gorgeous oversized sleeve with breathtaking images of winter foliage and urban landscaapes, printed in all muted browns and tans. So lovely.
Still more grime and dubstep madness from the only label that seems to be really bringing us the grime-y goodness we want. THAT WE NEED!! And it's another killer. Benga is a big deal in the tiny world of dubstep, but this is the first we've heard from him outside a handful of comps.
Side A is some super stripped down dubstep with BIG BIG beats that had our speakers shaking off the shelves, fuzzy blown out basslines, droning warbles in the background and some weird haunting Hitchcockian synth melodies.
The B side has some of the most killer low end we've ever heard. HUGE foundation rattling low end rumble, wrapped in thick reverb and spaced out dubby FX, like King Tubby gone grime, with cinematic pizzicato strings, like the soundtrack to some dubstep thriller. Nice!
Having released a superhuman amount of singles and split 12"s for Tempa , Big Apple, Planet Mu, and Hot Flush labels, Benga is most definitely one of the key figures bringing dubstep to a wider audience. That's mainly due to the UK club success of "Night", Benga's collaboration with Coki, his Tempa labelmate. The quivering nervous build-up to a massively skittery and surfy air-raid siren release cemented the producer's reputation as one to watch. Now with this full length, Benga is given room to expand the boundaries of what dubstep can be. Utilizing plaintive jazz horns, synth squelches, moody electro, warmer textures and beats that veer more towards house than genremates Burial or Kode 9, Diary of An Afro Warrior is more than a series of strung together singles but a richly complex and diverse dancefloor manifesto that is amongst the best the genre has to offer. Highly Recommended!
Hot single from Benga's latest!
There are unfortunately, some non-musical factors that contribute to what records we choose to be our Record Of The Week. Cost is one. There have been plenty of $30, or $40, or even $50 records that we've chosen to not make ROTW just because a record like that is often well outside a lot of folks' range of affordability. Once in a while we do make an exception, but that's usually when a record is SO good we just can't say no. Another factor is availability. No matter how great a record is, if we can only ever get 5 or 10 or 20 copies, often not knowing how long it will take to get more, or if we'll be able to get more at all, then we usually choose to highlight it, or if the numbers are super small, not list it at all (which is another reason visiting aQ in person is always a good idea, there's plenty of stuff that doesn't make it onto the list!). Anyway, the point of all this, is that we have been LOVING this Benge record, and until now we've only been able to get it in dribs and drabs, 5 copies here, 2 copies there, but we finally managed to get a bunch. A bunch in this case being about 15 copies. So fair warning, this disc is AWESOME, everyone is gonna want one, so when we sell out, please be patient, we're already doing our best to get more in, it just might take a while. So quick on the trigger, or be ready to wait patiently.
And what kind of record deserves all of these disclaimers? What kind of record can we be so sure all aQ list readers will want? How about a miniature hardcover book, containing a cd with 20 tracks, each track performed on a different synthesizer, from a different year, spanning the years 1968 to 1998, a sonic roadmap of the evolution of the synthesizer, from the first commercially available synths in the late sixties, to the introduction of fully digital synthesizers in the late eighties. Each page of the book featuring a full color photo of the synthesizer used to create that track, along with a schematic of that synth, as well as liner notes all about the synthesizer, as well as how the track was created. That all still might not be enough if the music wasn't amazing, but it is. Somehow strangely cohesive, even though 20 different instruments were used, the sounds here are uniformly blissed out and dreamy, a sort of new age droney drifty washed out shimmer, peppered with beautiful melodies and occasional percussion. Did you love the recent Bogner record of the week? Do you love Tangerine Dream? Popol Vuh? That Edmond De Dyster reissue? Deuter? The William Eaton reissue on EM? Steve Hillage's Rainbow Dome Music? Any number of avant electronic dronemusic cd-r's? Then you'll love this. Or if you're just a music geek that loves these sorts of 'objects', or tech-heads who love vintage gear. Hard to really imagine anyone not digging this big time.
So beyond the book, and the photos and the liner notes and the cool packaging, the music within is truly divine, and fairly diverse, from long slow oceans of sound, swirling and shimmering and sun dappled, to space aged glitch and skitter, hum and buzz, primitive robot disco bleep and bloop, to haunting Goblin-y synthscapery, to fluttery ethereal electronica rife with crystalline melodies and simple rhythms, to super creepy and dark cinematic ambience, to playful electronic shuffles, to blown out expansive cosmic shimmerscapes and on and on.
This could very well have been a super boring demonstration style record, and granted, most of us probably would have bought it anyway for the book and the pix and the strange sounds, being the huge music geeks we are, but thankfully, even with all the extras stripped away, we'd still be left with a gorgeous, playful, pretty, blissed out, warm and shimmery, slightly ominous, dramatic and epic, bleepy and bloopy experimental space age new age ambient electronic record. Which is even better.
Needless to say, WAY recommended. Amazing packaging, a miniature hardcover book, with tons of photos and liner notes and schematics, as well as an introduction by Robin Rimbaud aka Scanner. And again, these have been tough to keep in stock, so if we run out, please be patient while we wait for more to arrive.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Wow. Possibly the most fucked up, ridiculous black metal "band" ever, with their (his, actually, it's one guy) newest disc, some kind of pseudocerebral spacemetal epic with *amazing* songtitles like "Aurora of Despondence on Valles Marineris" and "Hermetically Leering As Frigid Blores Obumber" and "Sinister Demurral Estranged The Seductive Looming". Seemingly produced at home by someone probably not entirely familiar with how to work his four-track, and definitely struggling to operate his drum machine properly! Thus, so great that both Andee and Allan have purchased one. Also, recommended by Josh from the Champs.
THE RETURN OF POSSIBLY THE MOST RETARDED BLACK METAL BAND EVER!!! That may not sound like the ideal way to start a review that's goal is to convince you just how fucking crucial this record is. But then maybe you're not familiar with Benighted Leams or our absolute, possibly-misguided worship of their last two (sadly, out of print) records. Benighted Leams is another grim, cult, one man black metal band, but that's where any similarities end. Benighted Leams are so weird and so damaged and so completely fucked it boggles the mind. On past records, the rule of the day was utter chaos, levels would fluctuate EXTREMELY, with the vocals so high in the mix they threatened to blow your speakers, the drumming would wander from almost blast beats to clumsy midtempo stumbling, guitars were a murky muddy blackened beast, riffs smeared into fuzzy rooooaaaars and the whole thing a dizzingly nightmarish blackmetal soundscape and a completely baffling trip through the a dark musical minefield. We're happy to report that very little has changed. Could have something to do with the fact that the music on Ferln Centesms was composed 7+ years ago and the lyrics written over the past 4 years. Not that the lyrics matter all that much, as the vocals this time around are buried and totally indecipherable (enough so that a few people here thought it was instrumental). This is droning buzzing, stumbling mid tempo blackness. All the songs seem to almost follow some sort of template, a minute or two of blasting buzz, then a minute or two of hushed gurgling forestdrone, and then more buzzing. Very hypnotic and repetitive. And did we mention weird? The blurb we initially read about this new record compared it to Voivod and we must admit we were pretty skeptical. However, the songs are indeed surprisingly reminiscent of classic Voivod, jagged and complex, with convoluted song structures and weird arrangements. However, to be fair, it sounds much more like some random, slightly inept garage band covering Voivod's Dimension Hatross! So, to understand Benighted Leams, imagine the weirdest 4-track oustsider metal you've ever heard, mix in a stumbling, blackened Voivod, include song titles like "The Ormod Liss Of Transuranical Nortivagations" or "Sullen Slumber Of Swooning Gloom" and a record called Ferln Centesms, include gorgeous forest-y artwork and a band photo that appears to be Mr. Leams himself captured in mid stride, running through the snow, and strangely headless (?). Wow. We LOVE this band. Some (just some) of you might too...
Way back in 1999, the first time we ever heard them, we referred to Benighted Leams as "possibly the most retarded black metal band ever"! A level of dementedness and fucked up-ness by which all others would be measured. Leams mainman A.K. took umbrage, wondering why we would possibly describe his band that way, and how such a review could be expected to sell records?
Funny thing is, we sold tons and tons, Benighted Leams becoming THE sort of AQ black metal band. Gloriously damaged and demented, fucked up and oh so weird. Perhaps 'retarded' was not the ideal word choice, but we were trying to capture the essence of BL's then-sound, a sort of stumbling, struggling WTF black metal buzz. The drums were programmed and off time, often too loud, the guitars and vocals were alternately buried in the mix, and ear shreddingly loud. BUT! It was one of those perfect moments, where all of those various accidents and musical mistakes combined to create something vastly superior to its constituent parts. Still to this day, one of the greatest, weirdest, most inspired outsider bands EVER.
So here we are, almost 8 years, and a few Leams discs later, when we got word of a brand new Benighted Leams!!! Holy Shit were we excited!! A new Leams on the way. We had been hovering around the front door waiting for the mailman like kids at Christmas, when the day suddenly came and there was a big ol' package for us (and you!) from the UK, and inside we knew, lurked the new Leams!!
A lot has changed in the Benighted Leams camp -- no struggling damaged fucked up black metal stumble anymore, nope, the new Leams is thick and heavy, relentless, and HUGE sounding, like maybe it was recorded in a real studio, the guitars are massive and crunchy, the riffs killer and grim, the drums could still be programmed, but they sound much more organic, settled perfectly in the mix, a swirling, mostly midtempo blackness, with brief bursts of glorious blasting buzz. The vocals are buried, alternating with bits of found sound and purloined speeches. On first listen the untrained ear might not necessarily realize that this was Benighted Leams, but we know! There's no disguising the gloriously bizarre blackness that is Benighted leams. From the album title, Obombrid Welkins, to the song titles, "Kevin Macdonald's Theory Of Eurocentralism As A Group Evolution Strategy", "There Descends A Nauseating Dampness", "Alopaecia", to the strange but gorgeous design and layout, complete with a photo to accompany each track's lyrics (including a shot of a head obviously afflicted with "Alopaecia"), to the murky band photos (one half of BL is female apparently!), to the music! Drone drenched black metal, relentless and hypnotic, single riffs repeated over and over, simple and mournful and mesmerizing, minor key melodies tangled up in fuzzed out buzz, the vocals and samples making the songs sound ghostly and haunting.
Definitely not the weirdest Benighted Leams record, but possibly the best! As with all things Leams, HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!!
German label Morr Music tosses us a curve ball with this latest addition to their roster. Benni Hemm Hemm does not make frothy dream-tronica, but something just as easy on the ears. Armed with freshly scrubbed rosy cheeks, Benni Hemm Hemm are a group of gentle indie pop folk from Iceland whose line-up expands and contracts between eleven and seventeen members. This is their second full length and it begins with what we imagined to be a highschool marching band going through their bright-eyed, glockenspiel'd paces out in a greener than green meadow. In the spring morn sunlight, their well polished horns and uplifting perky melodies simply sparkle.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
A truly amazing document of a solo set performed by percussionist Han Bennink, long acknowledged as one of the founders of European improvised music. Full of exuberance, life, humor, this record scales the heights of unpredictability and variety as Bennink alternately plays unidentified pieces of metal, shimmering cymbals, tablas, rat-a-tat-tat staccato drums, clarinets, and accompanies himself with vocal warbles, muffled quacks, yells... This record is 27 years old but sounds fresher and more alive than much of what was released last week! First time on cd. Highly recommended.
A Dutch duo jazz-improv skronk fest, with the peculiar sputtering engine percussion of free jazz veteran Bennink and the clattery spidery guitar skree of The Ex's Terrie Ex. Seventeen wild and woolly tracks.
Very Apples In Stereo / Silver Sun / Sloan jubilant pop with jangly guitar melodies, and perky vocal harmonies. Benson possesses a boyish voice with a lilt that reminded me a lot of Rufus Wainwright or Jason Faulkner. Nice.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Crushing political East Bay grind from the Bay Area's masters of blazing crustcore intensity. 32 tracks. Complex and heavy, right on lyrics addressing the sad state of world affairs, and as usual, a huge comprehensive list (with contacts) of all the cool bands and labels.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
West Coast vs. East Coast!! Grindcore tag team battle royale. Benumb offer up 3 tracks of grunted, growling metal/grind, with some cool strangely recorded sub-bass rumble (not sure if it's on purpose or not). The mighty Pig Destroyer spit out 7 tracks of pummelling, incredibly tight metallic grind, heavy and intense. Super distorted vocals and crushing riffs. Suypposedly them just fucking around, testing the equipment during the recording of their amazing 'Prowler...' record, but it sounds pretty serious to me. Even a blazing cover of the Dwarves' 'Fuck You Up And Get High.' 10 tracks in seven minutes. Fuck yeah!!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Glacial drones, beautifully sung songs by/about a notorious killer, thousands of buzzing bees and a death metal cameo...all are elements of this gorgeous and bizarre soundtrack to one of the weirdest and biggest budget art/film projects ever, Matthew Barney's million-dollar "Cremaster 2".
We were lucky enough to get a hold of some copies of the rare soundtrack composed by Johnathan Bepler. For the most part, Bepler layers multiple atonal church organ chords with varying effects that tweak the underlying sound. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir makes an appearance as does some digitally bent country twang. But the mindblowing highlight (both here on the cd and in the film) is the massive blastbeat provided by ex-Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo as Morbid Angel's bass player and vocalist Steve Tucker sings into a phone while cloaked in bees, who also contribute much buzzing to the wall of sound.
Barney's "Cremaster" series is arguably the most important work to emerge from the artworld in the past decade. To discuss in depth Barney's convoluted symbolism and bizarre Lynch / Cronenberg / Greenaway imagery would take up far too much space even for this increasingly verbose new arrivals list, but we'll attempt a brief introduction for the uninitiated: Barney's sound / film / installation pieces are poetic and difficult allegories, centered on the growth of human sexuality and its psychological implications. "Cremaster 2" is actually the fourth in a five part series (the order went 1, 3, 5, and then 2), and is, quite crassly put, a really good dick joke. More critically put, Barney abstracts the life & times of the serial killer Gary Gilmore to portray an archetype for a pre-linguistic male figure who lacks the super-ego control over the id's proclivity for sex & violence.
Music has always played an important part in the Barney work, and Jonathan Bepler's score for "Cremaster 2" certainly does its best to support Barney's complex visual elements. If you haven't seen the film, this soundtrack will make you want to.
