Reissued once more (like many ESP-Disks, constantly going out of and then thankfully back into print), and we are glad to have it back in our racks for sure, since this album is an all-time AQ fave and it's been gone too long. This time around, it's in a digpack with the original black & white version of the cover art, and it's been given its original title of Cave Rock instead of Orgasm. But a freaked out masterpiece by any other name...
Here's the review we first wrote about this when a previous reissued entered our collective Aquarius consciousness some years ago:
Yet another gem we somehow managed to miss, thankfully newly reissued to give us a second chance. (Well, not all of us missed it. Allan had the previously reissued version at one point, and got rid of it somehow. He just wasn't ready for it back then. Now he owns it again!) And a few of our customers have responded with the customary "Oh that record! I love that record. I've had that record for years." So for those of you, like us, managed to somehow miss it, we present to you Cromagnon.
An anomaly, even on the always far out ESP label, Cromagnon was the result of two top 40 songwriters (accustomed to producing bubblegum pop) who seemed to have completely lost their minds. I mean they must have, to produce something as wacked as this record. Austin Grasmere, Brian Elliot, and their mysterious 'Connecticut Tribe' spewed forth 50 minutes of primitive dada-ist folk psych.
Chanting, tribal percussion, short wave radio, maniacal, almost black metal vocals, hysterical laughter, bagpipes all coalesce into something ridiculous and amazing.
Track one "Caledonia" sounds like a strange hybrid of Comus and In Extremo, with bagpipes, jaw harp, crickets, raspy chants and teutonic percussion ("Caledonia" was even covered later by industrialists Test Department, and more recently by Japan's Ghost!). Later on in the record is an alternate version of "Caledonia" from the b-side of the original lp, slowed down to a third of the speed, producing an impenetratable swampy murk. "Ritual Feast of The Libido" features a groaning and moaning vocal over whirring and rumbling machinery. Then comes "Fantasy", where a faux Beach Boys intro almost convinces us that Grasmere and Elliot have returned to their bubblegum roots, that is until it devolves into a messy seven minutes of garbled laughter and clattering percussion. Today this all still seems pretty damn crazy, so back in 1968 when it was recorded it must have really freaked people out, even despite the pervasive drug culture of the time...
So for those of you who aren't already veterans of the Cromagnon experience, and definitely for those of you who were blown away by the Comus, and for everyone who is in need of a new favorite fucked record, this is it. Now, and always, a unanimous AQ fave.
Thought we should mention that we have this slab of classic weirdness on vinyl now too... a favorite old ESP release, not a free jazz session but a freaky hippie jam that couldn't be replicated in this day and age. Here's some of what we had to say about one of the previous cd editions (and it is still in stock in that format, btw):
An anomaly, even on the always far out ESP label, Cromagnon was the result of two top 40 songwriters (accustomed to producing bubblegum pop) who seemed to have completely lost their minds. I mean they must have, to produce something as wacked as this record. Austin Grasmere, Brian Elliot, and their mysterious 'Connecticut Tribe' spewed forth 50 minutes of primitive dada-ist folk psych.
Chanting, tribal percussion, short wave radio, maniacal, almost black metal vocals, hysterical laughter, bagpipes all coalesce into something ridiculous and amazing.
Track one "Caledonia" sounds like a strange hybrid of Comus and In Extremo, with bagpipes, jaw harp, crickets, raspy chants and teutonic percussion ("Caledonia" was even covered later by industrialists Test Department). Later on in the record is an alternate version of "Caledonia" from the b-side of the original lp, slowed down to a third of the speed, producing an impenetratable swampy murk. "Ritual Feast of The Libido" features a groaning and moaning vocal over whirring and rumbling machinery. Then comes "Fantasy", where a faux Beach Boys intro almost convinces us that Grasmere and Elliot have returned to their bubblegum roots, that is until it devolves into a messy seven minutes of garbled laughter and clattering percussion. Today this all still seems pretty damn crazy, so back in 1968 when it was recorded it must have really freaked people out, even despite the pervasive drug culture of the time... definitely for those of you who were blown away by the Comus, and for everyone who is in need of a new favorite fucked record, this is it. Now a unanimous AQ fave.
Basically Borknagar.
After years of being a sidekick of, and special guesting on records by, folks like Ty Segall and Thee Oh Sees, Mikal Cronin came into his own in a big way in 2011, with his self titled debut full length, which we dug so much, we made it our Record Of The Week. And we were psyched that the rest of the world began to finally take notice too. And now here we just a couple years later, and Cronin has a super hyped new record on Merge and seems poised for the sort of success that his fellow SF garage rockers have been enjoying lately. As is often the case with the follow up to a record you love to death, II took some warming up to. At first we were thinking it was a watered down, more mainstream version of the debut, and while it most definitely is WAY more polished, and not nearly as raw and rambunctious, it's definitely not watered down, and after a few listens, the songs began to reveal themselves as the genius pop songs they are. And now that we've had a few weeks of constant listening, we've beginning to think we dig this new one as much as the debut.
Check out the sound samples below, the opening 4 song blast is pretty much untouchable, hooks galore, lush classic pop, acoustic guitars, piano, even sax, the guitars jangly and shimmery one second, crunchy and buzzy the next. After raving about the new Telekinesis! record on the last record, we're getting a lot of the same feel from this one. Personal and passionate, super rocking and rollicking, but introspective and sensitive at the same time. The chorus of "Shout It Out" is a killer, the fact that is sits in a song that's predominantly acoustic guitar strum and sweet sad boy croon, only makes it that much more fierce. "Am I Wrong" does something similar, pairing a crunchy, stomping chorus with a lilting main melody, and some sweet falsetto vox. "See It My Way", is a groovy shuffle, again, all spare and psychedelic and jangly, and then a seriously fuzzed out chorus, with wild drumming, and swirling vocal harmonies. And did we mention the opener? Setting the stage perfectly, with it's dreamy piano, heartfelt vocals, and fuzz guitar. Total hook heavy noise pop bliss. That song more than anyone here perfectly straddling the sound of the two records, maybe purposefully acting as a bridge between the raw rocking of the debut, and the more polished poppiness of II.
And one thing we noticed is Cronin's mastery of classic heart tugging pop epicness, with many of the songs exploding into those sort of instrumental sprawls that you always hear in movie trailers, or underpinning the super emotional parts of indie art films, soaring, melodic, emotional, majestic, moving, that vibe finding its way into the garage poppiness of the rest of the record and transforming II into something classic and timeless and really fucking great!
We made Mikal Cronin's debut album our Record Of The Week a while back, and still it remains one of the most listened to records in the shop. And a testament to that record's rulingness is the fact that none of us are sick of hearing it yet. That said, it doesn't mean we're not hankering for new stuff. Which is where this brand new single comes in, two new blasts of psychedelic pop bliss, the first, "Tide" is fuzzy and almost Elephant Six sounding, lush vocal harmonies, and a weird super catchy chorus that manages to stick in your head like crazy, but sound totally twisted. And there's a wicked wild psychedelic guitar solo, the production too, much like the full length, manages to be lush and expansive, but also raw and lo-fi, with some super strange choices in terms of balance and volume, in this case, that guitar solo nearly leaps out of the speaker, but somehow it still sounds perfect.
The B side is much more pure pop sounding, all fuzzy and dreamy and Beatles-esque, a killer hook, an impossible to resist melody, wild and loose, a little ramshackle, but so catchy and great. And another weird psychedelic solo that is about twice as loud as the rest of the song, but again, once you hear it, you can't imagine it any other way. How this guy remained a secret for so long we'll never know, but we're psyched the world is finally catching on. And we're psyched that we have two more MC songs to spin again and again and again...
Up until now, SF garage popper Mikal Cronin seemed to exist mostly as sideman, his name usually following an ampersand, which in turn seemed to typically be preceded by the name Ty Segall. Thus most of our experiences with Cronin had been the duo of Segall & Cronin, and everything we had heard we dug, a LOT, but it was hard to tell what exactly Cronin was bringing to the table, versus Segall, but listening to this now, seems the answer is EVERYTHING! And as much as we love Ty Segall, we're thinking that maybe much of that garage pop magic was coming from the other side of the ampersand, cuz WOW is this record totally great. Anyone at all into the SF garage pop scene, Thee Oh Sees, the Fresh & Onlys, Ty Segall, Bare Wires, etc., will go absolutely nuts for this. And if this record doesn't immediately catapult Cronin into the spotlight, then there's something very very wrong with the world.
It's a perfect blend of sunshiney jangle, garagey fuzz, paisley pop and noisy psychedelia. And for all the warped fuzz and reverbed drenched lo-fi crunch of his peers, it seems Cronin has much more of a pure pop heart. That pure pop is however gloriously corrupted by little bits of wild flute flecked freakouts, strange horns, noise rock jams, and whatever else struck Cronin's fancy it seems, yet whatever sonic weirdness Cronin adds to the mix, it never sound gratuitous, it always sounds like an organic part of the song and the sound, and without fail, the song is crazy catchy, and the sound is fantastically lush and psychedelic and utterly ruling.
The first track manages to sum it up pretty perfectly. Starting with some dreamy Beach Boys a cappella harmonies, then some big distorted guitar crunch, pounding drums, before slipping right into some dreamy almost folky jangle, acoustic guitar strum, fuzzy bass, sweet vocal harmonies and HOOKS FOR DAYS, like the best song the Fresh & Onlys never wrote, but a little bit more twisted and a little bit more Byrds / paisley pop, but with plenty of crunch and fuzz, a little bit proggy in its arrangement, and then out of nowhere, with about a minute left, the song explodes into a double time pounding psych rock blow out, complete with jagged guitar crunch and a wild flute freakout (courtesy of John Dwyer of Thee Oh Sees, who knew he played flute?). We've probably listened to that song 50 times since we got this in.
But once we dug deeper, we realized that pretty much every song here is an absolute gem, "Apathy" with its start/stop acoustic strum, wild feedback, and total classic pop hooks (reminding us melodically of The Olivia Tremor Control actually), "Green And Blue", with its thick crunch droned out guitar buzz, dirgey drumming, thick blown out wall of sound and wild tangle of psychguitar freakout, "Get Along", which is another acoustic guitar driven chunk of practically perfect dreampop, rife with sweet harmony vox and some cool tripped out backwards psych guitar melodies, "Slow Down", a lo-fi, organ driven ballad, all stretched out drones and fuzzy reverbed vox, "Gone", another crunchy, riff heavy rocker, that should have Thee Oh Sees fans frothing at the mouth. And so it goes, the perfect mix of modern garage pop and classic indie jangle, and some of THEE best songs EVER. This week's list is chock full of contenders for pop record of the year, but if any of the other ones are gonna come out on top, this is gonna be the one to beat.
Oh, if you're wondering if it's vinyl-only, no it's not. But we're just listing the vinyl format this week, 'cause for some weird reason, the cd version we originally received turned out to be a cd-r. However, the label has fixed that and pressed some actual, real cds, we're just waiting for them to show up. They're on the way, should be here sometime next week, so if you're a cd person, or just prefer the cheaper format, let us know and we'll put your name down for one. We'll also of course list it on our next list.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
The LAMC series of 7"s features tons of our favorite bands (Fuzz, Ty Segall, Thee Oh Sees), delivering an exclusive track on the A side, while the B side features one of THAT band's favorite new artists. A pretty cool concept for sure and we're reviewing 3 of our favorites in the series.
Number 11 is the latest and features an exclusive A side from Mikal Cronin, driven by a Casio drum machine rhythm, all warm acoustic guitar strum and sweetly crooned poppiness, which eventually explodes into something much more rocking, a bombastic noise pop gem, swirling guitar fuzz wrapped around that acoustic strum, wreathed in keening buzzing melodies and all wound up into a super hooky chorus, with a post chorus bridge that's total classic baroque pop, before doing it all again. So good!
Cronin picked Wand as his up and coming fave, a name new to us, but listening to their track it's easy to see why Cronin digs 'em, a seriously psychedelic blast of tripped out heavy fuzzpop, which starts out with a sprawl of squelchy synth blurt over kinetic drumming and poppy crooning, before things get a bit noisier and jangle poppy, and finally, in swoops a fuzzed out almost metallic main riff, the sound wild and chaotic, sounding a lot like Ty Segall's Fuzz, soaring harmony vocals wrapped around plenty of crunch and pound, definitely need to hear more from these guys ASAP!
And like all the other singles in the series, as you probably figured out already, EXTREMELY limited!!!!
Sure, a lot of people win big in Vegas, but before even hearing New Zealander Maryrose Crook's solo album, we couldn't help but be struck with the thought that the album's title only conjures thoughts of shattered dreams, drowning sorrows, fallen angels and utter bleakness. Upon hearing the music we realize that it too absolutely encapsulates all of that, but it evokes a period long before the neon lights obliterated the starry desert nights. Of course, this is all assuming that the Vegas referred to in the title is the one in Nevada. For much of Ghosts Of Our Vegas Lives, Ms Crook and The Renderers linger in smoldering folk balladry. It's a territory Crook knows and navigates well, but she stokes the flames of country rock for a couple of swaggering numbers late in the album (check out "Blood Of The Angels") also to very good effect.
Recently profiled in The Wire, Skiz "Spectre" Fernando and his WordSound label have released quite a few "illbient" hip hop records that we've been into here at Aquarius. This compilation highlights several of our faves from the WordSound crew: Scotty Hard, Spectre, Prince Charming, and of course rapper Sensational, among others. It's the soundtrack to Skiz's low-budget, 'student' WordSound film Crooked, which was previously available as a double with the DVD of said film. This is the better deal though, as it's 4 bucks cheaper AND you won't end up watching the decidedly tedious movie. Great soundtrack, though. This version, by the way, has 2 extra tracks but is also about eight minutes shorter, for some reason...OH WAIT, I figured it out: this disc is ENTIRELY DIFFERENT! So, forget what we said about this being a better deal, it's in fact a different deal. That was the "soundtrack", this is the "original score". Hmm. It seems that these are the tracks that were made expressly for the film, but weren't included on the soundtrack cd that came with the dvd. Unlike that disc, there's no previously available stuff on here (which was the case with several of the Sensational cuts on that one). So you gotta get both, WordSound hedz. This one's all about incidental mostly instrumental music from a dark, dubby, hiphop perspective, which is what a lot of WordSound stuff sounds like, even when it's not meant for an actual film. Artists, aside from the above mentioned, included Mentol Nomad, the dreaded Bill Laswell, Mr. Dead, and live drum n' bassers UV Ray.
Another choice slab of gnarled industrial dekompositions from Black Horizons! Crooked Columns is a new project to us, hailing from Portland, Oregon with handful of equally unknown ancillary projects from the various members. Searing synth tones, crushing noise concoctions, and an occasional rhythmic outburst of militaristic aplomb set the stage for a cassette that could easily be passed off as something with origins dating back to 1984 from some armpit town in sodden England or from some death-obsessed Italian miserably enduring the Mediterranean sun. Even with all of the noise and grind and toxic bloom, Crooked Columns muster some intriguing variations on their core strategies of loops and noise. Sure there's plenty of references to MB's mechanical lurchings from back in the day, but that extended track with pronounced rhythms has more of a Konstruktivists feel topped with atonal horns and plenty of scabrous blurts of noise. Warbling loops and heart-beat pulses lead into smashed amplifier destruction on the second side of the tape, with plenty of horror-score sound design vibes tossed in for good measure. Really great stuff, we have to say. And as is the case with all of the Black Horizons tapes these days, very nice packaging with gold offset printing on metallic blue paper. Careful though of the drug-sized baggie tucked away inside the J-card. Supposedly, the rusted metal has been dosed with tetanus. Don't tempt fate, please. As with all the Black Horizons tapes... LIMITED TO 100 COPIES.
Also known as former Archers of Loaf-er Eric Bachmann. Here he sounds not unlike a hoarse, embittered Neil Diamond. Join him as he continues his slow ride on the bummer train. Plucking away at his battered old guitar and regaling you with tales of sorrow and pain from an empty boxcar as it creeps and lurches through the hills in the chilly evening air. Taking him farther and farther from his Archers off-kilter pop past. Faint sampled sounds and guest female vocals only add to the sombre mood. With beautiful sleeve art. All parchment-y and translucent like an old aquatic x-ray.
As on his past fine releases under the moniker Crooked Fingers, album number four brings us an Eric Bachmann who still sounds a lot like a ragged Neil Diamond (particularly on songs such as the fifth track "Destroyer"), however he now seems far less depressed and on the brink of collapsing off his barstool. In fact as Dignity & Shame starts off with the gently hand-drummed and trumpet-laced song "Islero", you'd almost think you were hearing a lost Calexico instrumental or similarly that you've stepped into a Morricone-scored old western. This lone track does hint at Bachmann's potential for much more expansive atmospheric work, but as the rest of the album sticks to more standard song structures, it seems to be an isolated excursion. Sure the heavy duty aches are still present, but they're tempered by pretty things like the female vocals backing him up on the "Twilight Creeps" and "Sleep All Summer" or the spartan wisps of slide guitar on "You Must Build A Fire". Perhaps this album marks the appearance of a distant light at the end of his lengthy tunnel of melancholia? Y'know, come to think of it, while this album may win Bachmann a few new fans with it's more stable, mellow presentation, it conversely just might bum out a few old Crooked Fingers fans who've loved to ride his serious bummer trips. That said, we think it's sorta nice to hear a few glimmers of hope in Bachmann's music.
Admittedly we approached this new Crooked Fingers a bit gingerly. Really, just how far could Eric Bachmann travel down that slippery slope of bummerness? Well, from the looks of this, his third album as Crooked Fingers, it appears he's hit a bit of a ledge of hope and dusted himself off. Earlier recordings drew visions of a lone man completely embittered and beaten down. Hunched over a bar, his slumped shoulders bearing the full weight of his hopeless world as he drowned his sorrows with an endless line of whiskey shots. These days, things are brighter, much more lushly composed. Bachmann's certainly moved beyond the confines of his former bluesy twang in both musical and emotional scope. A clearer vision and broader presentation, it's almost a complete transformation. Still, his voice - warmer and softer than his former rasp - continues to resemble that of Neil Diamond, but overall this is much closer to Badly Drawn Boy or Elliott Smith. Hurrah!
Another all covers collection! What's the deal? Following in the recent pattern of other great bands' lead singers doing questionable solo all-covers releases (Red House Painters' Mark Kozelek, American Music Club's Mark Eitzel, et al), Archers Of Loaf-man Eric Bachmann unfurls his 5-song EP of heavy duty bummed out renditions of tavern jukebox classics by Neil Diamond, Kris Kristofferson, Bruce Springsteen, and Queen/David Bowie. So, how does it sound? Oh my, surprise! He *still* sounds like a haggard, whiskey-soaked Neil Diamond (especially on Diamond's own "Solitary Man"), but now somewhat more weary and gritty with a bit of Tom Waits in him. And on "Under Pressure", strangely enough he sounds like Springsteen. Each song is certainly well-performed with some nice plucky banjo, lap steel, cello, and euphonium, but the actual song choices are a bit, ummm, shall we say... odd. We have to ask, why oh why would he feel compelled to do something that he's gotta know he is going to be ridiculed for?
Eric Bachmann has been sad. So sad after the demise of his former Archers of Loaf. He's been hanging out at the rock-star bar along with drunkards who have made their entire careers out of alcohol soaked ballads. Shane MacGowan and Tom Waits are there. So is Tim Foljhan and that guy from Arab Strap. That band... Drunk. Oh, and I think Nick Cave is shooting up in the bathroom with Keith Richards. Courtney Love would have been there but she's trying on Versace dresses and can't be bothered by such things. So, don't expect any quirky pop here, pull up a stool and drown your sorrows.
Seven Sisters is actually a soundtrack for a documentary film of the same name which follows the lives of seven sisters who grew up and moved away from their home in the Kentucky Appalachians during the 30's and 40's. The songs are all covers and traditional numbers that were popular during this time and arranged by the Crooked Jades. Among the tracks here are "Put My Little Shoes Away", Roscoe Holcomb's "I Wish I Was A Single Girl Again", "Cumberland Gap", "Mystery Train" (the very one popularized by E. Presley), "Pretty Polly" and much more.
Feels like it's been ages since we've heard from local faves, The Crooked Jades, and just when we were about to file a missing persons report, in they walk with a brand spanking new release of the darkly tinged Americana that we've been craving. Shining Darkness has a more fleshed out sound than previous Jade releases covering a lot of ground from haunting Appalachian lullabies and fiery bluegrass dust-ups to dirgy British folk, full of sweet two part male and female harmonies, fiddle, mandolin, guitar and atmospheric harmonium. So nice!
After a much too long three year recording hiatus, the Crooked Jades return with 23 new tracks. Like their previous releases, volume 2 of The Unfortunate Rake is a mix of both arrangements of traditional tunes and original compositions. For those who still haven't heard them yet, the Crooked Jades play a seamless blend of American roots music that absorbs bluegrass, country, and early string band styles with remarkable fluidity. Like their previous releases, heart rending ballads, superb vocal harmonies and high powered fiddle tunes abound here. As much as the Jades -- possibly the hardest working roots music band in the Bay Area -- excel in what's expected of a great string band (excellent instrumental breaks & vocal harmonies), it's their arrangements and choice of instrumentation that puts them over the edge. With judicious inclusion of hammond organ and piano to their growing arsenal of ukuleles, Hawaiian slide guitars, dobros, myriad banjos (tenor, banjo-uke, etc) and pedal-steel as well as the usual suspects (fiddle, guitar, string bass, mandolin), the Jades have developed a sound that's far more rich and interesting than the "olde-timey" groups they're unfortunately often lumped in with. There's even a soundtracky instrumental composed by leader Jeff Kazor which is nicely reminiscent of Penguin Cafe Orchestra's better moments -- Yellow Mercury No. 2 -- featuring Jeff on dulcimer accompanied by Richard Buckner (who again plays all over this new album as well as being credited as co-producer) on piano & ukulele and Michael Ismerio on fiddle. Highly recommended! And for those who still don't have them, we still stock the Jades first two records.
Those AQ customers who live here in SF may have seen the Crooked Jades play at the Mission's beloved Radio Valencia (R.I.P.) on Sunday nights for years. And though it's been hard to catch them live these days, we're blessed with two new releases by the group to serenade us any day of the week, any time of the day in lieu of the real thing. Drawing from old time string band, bluegrass and country influences the Crooked Jades put together a sound that's original, but never forced. With a full arsenal of guitars, dobro, hawaiian guitar, banjo (played clawhammer style), fiddle, piano, ukulele, mandolin, pedal steel guitar, string bass and even the occasional casio & moog (says so on the liner notes, but hardly noticeable) the Crooked Jades continually vary the size and style of their arrangements to accompany beautiful male and female harmonies. The Unfortunate Rake is comprised of about 50% traditional numbers and the other half equally divided between covers and originals. The album was produced (and excellently recorded at SF's Tiny Telephone) by Richard Buckner, who also sings and plays on several of the tracks including an eerie rendition of the traditional song 'Ida Red' played on piano, baritone ukulele & E-bow.
Another wonderful album from these veteran Bay Area craftsmen and women of old time, rootsy Americana finery! Tireless band leader Jeff Kazor once again heads the ever-changing cast of Crooked Jades, and he does so with remarkable consistency in sound and feel from one album to the next. Not only that, on the generous 15-song long World's On Fire, the band glides seamlessly between The Jades' originals and their cover versions of vintage country, Appalachian folk and bluegrass tunes, and effortlessly between rowdy bootstompers and aching heartbreakers. Recommended.
In lieu of a new full length (this Fall perhaps?), the Crooked Jades have tossed us a very nice bone of an EP. Five tracks, recorded live to multitrack at SF's own Tiny Telephone in August of 2004. Of the five tracks, three are traditional arrangements and two are originals: one by Jades frontman Jeff Kazor and the other by newly added mandolin player extraordinaire Jennie Benford. For this outing the group have reigned in their broad influences and focused their labors to produce an EP that's almost strictly bluegrass, and very traditional at that. The exception is the final track "Gabriel (World's On Fire)" which is a traditional gospel tune sung by the group a cappella, but for some frantic blues acoustic guitar accompaniment. So nice.
Second release on Handmade Birds from this post (sort of) black metal outfit, formerly called Frail, when they were black metal only in as much as they had shrieked vokills, musically, their sound was much more in line with the Cure or Depeche Mode, dark depressive almost new wave, and wait a second� that's basically true of Crooked Necks as well, after a whole record of Joy Division covers (the recently reviewed Something Must Break 12"), this brand new full length doesn't sound all that far removed, dark shimmery bass lines, lots of chiming melodies and gloom pop guitar jangle, crooned vocals, a little reverby shimmer, softly propulsive rhythms, Crooked Necks are one of those rare bands that all metalheads seem to like, even though they're not even remotely metal. It's that weird heavy metal rule that states all metalheads must like the Cure and Depeche Mode, but just applied to a more modern band, which does make sense cuz again, take those shrieked vocals away, and this record could have come out on Sacred Bones or Captured Tracks or Wierd. But hey, that's fine with us, we're merely questioning why these guys are classified as metal, black or otherwise, maybe they're not so much anymore, regardless, we love this stuff, dreamy blissed out gloom pop, the weird thing is we'd almost even like it more sans the harsh vox, then it would just be pure crystalline jangle pop, a little gloomy, a little gothy, but pretty much total pop. The vocals definitely give it an edge, and there is some cool, slightly weirder stuff going on as well, some strange production, backwards swoops an swirls, but for the most part this is just a great new wave downer pop record, that yeah, if you're an adventurous metalhead, you just might dig, and if you're a popkid, and don't mind a bit of black screech, this could definitely be a new fave.
Supposedly the final recording from these post-black metallers, born of a sonically similar outfit we reviewed ages ago called Frail, who were already crafting a sound that at the time we described as sounding exactly like The Cure, only with harsh shrieked BM vokills. Crooked Necks took that sound and ran with it, ending up even further removed from anything remotely black metal, a woozy, swirling, gothic gloom pop, all chiming shoegaze guitars, deep bellowed vox, chiming minor key melodies, moody and broody, soaring and shimmery, we're immediately reminded of Beyond Dawn, Katatonia too, but Crooked Necks still retains some of those harsh vokills, their sound a bit more murky and buzzy, but those elements are subtle, and deftly woven into an epic, majestic sort of blissed out post-BM metalgaze, that is most definitely more aligned with outfits like Alcest and Deafheaven and the like. Gorgeously gloomy stuff.
As with all Black Horizons releases, beautifully packaged, a silver metallic ink on matte green paper 8 panel J-card, the tapes stickered green cassettes, with a printed glossy insert, and of course LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!!
We first heard from Crooked Necks on their split with Finnish (sort of) black metal weirdos Circle Of Ouroborus. And as CoO made their way to the new Handmade Birds label, it makes sense that Crooked Necks would too. Born of the band Frail, who we raved about a while back on the list, who essentially sounded like a black metal Cure, or more accurately, they sounded exactly like the Cure, or a similarly dour new wave band, just with black metal shrieks instead of the typical deep gothic croon. That band transformed into Crooked Necks, and while the sound didn't change all that much, the vox were dialed back a bit, and the band began to sound more and more like an actual cold/new wave band, with the occasional BM tendencies, instead of the other way around.
This brand new 12", launching Handmade Birds' new White Label series, was apparently recorded a long time ago, and was born of some unnamed tragedy, and because of that was shelved for years, only now finally seeing the light of day. The most interesting part is that it's a collection of Joy Division covers, presented pretty true to the originals, but reimagined enough to make them interesting and a bit weirder. The A side is a bit more upbeat, so much so that we had trouble realizing that it was in fact meant to play at 45rpm, but the band definitely make these their own, which really is no great feat since they sort of sounded like Joy Division to begin with, but the drum programing is creative, the strange effects add a twisted vibe, it's mostly instrumental, but then the vocals do appear, they're buried in the mix, and heavily reverbed, ominous and mysterious and dramatic. The B-side is where it gets great, the band take on "New Dawn Fades" and "The Eternal", gloomy and dirgey and darkly haunting, emotional and melancholy, "The Eternal" especially, all spaced out and abstract, there are some shrieks on the B side, but just a few, and at first it was hard to tell they were voices, it could have been some sheet of high end guitar, but instead of distracting, it simply adds more emotion and passion.
The weird thing is that these guys are beloved by metallers, and that it ended up on Handmade Birds, when it almost sounds like it could have been some unearthed rarity reissued on Dark Entries. Gorgeous, haunting stuff. Fans of gloom rock and doom pop and the various waves (cold, synth, new, etc.) will definitely dig.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES, in plain black sleeves, with no labels, simple black and white stickers on the front and back.
When we highlighted those Graham Nash records a while back, some of us were hoping we would soon get other records from the Crosby, Stills Nash and Young camp, especially this one, David Crosby's only solo album of the period, If I Could Only Remember My Name. It took some cajoling to bring this record in as about half the store loves this record to death while the other half, er....well, let's just say they aren't quite as enthusiastic about it. But for those of us who love it, we are glad to finally share it. When you hear people talking about the "West Coast sound", we can't think of a more archetypical record than this. Mellow, shambolic, and laid back with that Laurel Canyon sun-tripped hippie vibe, this is the most sublime and transcendental recording to come out of the vast CSN&Y catalog, and that's including the member's mother bands, The Byrds, The Hollies and Buffalo Springfield. With loose song structures, soaring and often-wordless vocal harmonies, and Dead-ish guitar meanderings (a point of contention with the haters), this record's hippie earnestness may not be for everyone. But it stands as a musical pinnacle for the contemporary folk scene, freak or otherwise, and you can hear its influence clearly on bands like Skygreen Leopards, Bright Black Morning Light and Feathers. Hands down, it's the best wake-and-bake album ever!
Now on vinyl, if you've been waiting for it. Embossed gold-on-black gatefold cover, fancy. And it comes with a copy of the Bigger & Blackerer dvd. Some of what we said about the cd and dvd versions:
Maybe a few years ago we really had to tell you to buy a David Cross comedy album, like, talk about Mr. Show and all, explain how he's really funny and totally indie rock, is one of us and hates President Bush and all that. But now, Arrested Development (the TV show) has come and gone and you're definitely (probably) already a fan of David Cross. So we're not gonna go on for paragraphs here. Suffice to say, he's back, bigger and "blackerer" (?) and balder and more bearded, with a new album and dvd on Sub Pop, it's his first album since 2004's It's Not Funny, and (like that one) it actually of course is funny stuff indeed. Still concerned with religion, politics, drugs, consumer culture, average American stupidity, Cross hasn't mellowed out much. Fake outrage, and REAL outrage, are still both part of his show.
Along with deaf people, the TV show Intervention, Tea Partiers, Coors Light, a porno called "My Ass Is Haunted", taking a drink testing kit on a first date... this performance covers a lot of ground. There's a few moments where he pushes the non-PC/racial humor thing in uncomfortable (and maybe unfunny) ways... or are we just afraid to admit we laughed?
Maybe a few years ago we really had to tell you to buy a David Cross comedy album, like, talk about Mr. Show and all, explain how he's really funny and totally indie rock, is one of us and hates President Bush and all that. But now, Arrested Development (the TV show) has come and gone and you're definitely (probably) already a fan of David Cross. So we're not gonna go on for paragraphs here. Suffice to say, he's back, bigger and "blackerer" (?) and balder and more bearded, with a new album and dvd on Sub Pop, it's his first album since 2004's It's Not Funny, and (like that one) it actually of course is funny stuff indeed. Still concerned with religion, politics, drugs, consumer culture, average American stupidity, Cross hasn't mellowed out much. Fake outrage, and REAL outrage, are still both part of his show.
Along with deaf people, the TV show Intervention, Tea Partiers, Coors Light, a porno called "My Ass Is Haunted", taking a drink testing kit on a first date... this performance covers a lot of ground. There's a few moments where he pushes the non-PC/racial humor thing in uncomfortable (and maybe unfunny) ways... or are we just afraid to admit we laughed?
Recorded live in Boston, the cd and dvd have similar but different tracklistings, with some bits appearing only on one format, or the other. Both are about an hour long, though the dvd does contain some extra bonus material on top of that, as dvds are wont to do (including his classic "electric scissors" routine), and includes a poster of the slightly grotesque looking cover painting.
We love Mr. Show. And we LOVE David Cross. And we loved his double cd on Sub Pop, And now we LOVE this DVD. I threw it on only expecting to watch a little chunk of it, but we ended up watching the whole thing and laughing hysterically the whole time. It's not a concert film, in fact there's very little stand up at all, it's more like a tour video, documenting the travelling, and the fans, and the freaks, and the drunks, and the club owners and Cross's unique response to all of them. Highlights include a segment where he hands the mic to a girl in the crowd mid set so he can go take a piss, and the part where he spends an entire set talking about the asshole club owner, who then tries to kick him out after the show, while Cross draws it out as long as humanly possible, tormenting the guy. So uncomfortable. But so brilliant. The whole thing is like that, so uncomfortable it's funny!
Funny that. We hardly ever get any comedy records to review (unless you count Sounds of American Doomsday Cults a comedy record), and on this list we've commited to two. But, unlike the Neil Hamburger record that appears a little later on in this list, Mr. Cross is actually funny. In the real, HA HA HA, as opposed to "HA HA HA" kind of funny. Though most well known for his part in the HBO series Mr. Show with Bob Odenkirk, Cross has been working hard to make people laugh / piss people off since his early days as a writer for the Ben Stiller show way back in 1992. It seems like ages since I've purchased an honest to goodness comedy album. I think the last I purchased was either Eddie Murphy's first, or the Bob & Doug McKenzie "Great White North" album. But what instantly stands out as a difference between the earlier greats and David Cross is that, where the former are cold, calculated comedy, the latter is off the cuff and loaded with improvised material. Cross, apparently in jest, remarks on the liner notes to the album that his physician requires him to get sufficiently wasted before, during and after his set. But I don't think it's entirely, if at all, in jest. I really think Cross does get snuckered before a gig. But whether he does or not, you can distinctly tell from his delivery that he hasn't worked his routine to death before hitting the stage. Which is impressive when you consider the dangers of crashing and burning on stage when you lose your focus. I won't pretend there aren't any stuttered deliveries here, or that David Cross' professionalism keeps him above the realms of sloppiness. No, there's plenty of that here. And what's more, you realize while listening to David weigh in on the Catholic Church (molesting preachers), George W. Bush, and even his native south -- he's a fucking angry man. He doesn't approach these subjects lightly, he goes in swinging his wit around like a chainsaw. Needless to say, those who are easily offended should probably pass this up. But for anyone who's enjoyed Mr. Show, this should be required listening.
This one's for all you weirdo found sound and field recording obsessives out there. Not sure where this one would get filed, somewhere between the Conet Project's mysterious numbers stations, rutting red deer, the sounds of drag racing cars, the beeping of a life support system and the collections of voices of the dead via EVP recordings (all things we've stocked!), The MMs Bar Recordings captures something much more mundane, but somehow, just capturing these sounds on tape transforms those original sounds, here removed from their original context, into something strangely fascinating.
In a nutshell, these are undoctored recordings of announcements on a particular train line in the UK, recorded between 2006 and 2007, when the artist Sandra Cross was taking said train line weekly, and working on a project called "What Did You Eat Today". Funnily enough, on every train ride, the bar on the train, which served various foods and drinks would announce exactly what it was they were serving, always a slightly different announcement, always a different voice, and always at random times. So Cross became obsessed and recorded them, and Trunk Records on hearing these recordings became equally obsessed, and now it's our turn.
And it's not just the actual announcements, the sounds that surround them are equally mesmerizing, the muted rumble of the train, the murmur of voices, the static of the overhead speakers, but it is the MMs Bar announcements that are the core of this collection of recordings, and they are presented here unaltered, as they were captured, so the edits are rough, and there are long stretches with no announcements, just rumbles and whirs, and there are stretches that are a jumble of voices and announcements one after the other, the whole thing IS surprisingly mesmerizing, conjuring up memories of traveling, as well and just sonically interesting. Fans of our found sounds section will no doubt be as obsessed with this as we've become. It's like a Conet Project that makes you hungry, for Anglophiles. Needless to say, way recommended!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
From Encinitas, California, land of surfers, and the Navy, and of course Andee's young adulthood, comes the short lived but hugely influential Crossed Out. Progenitors of the now ubiquitous powerviolence/grindcore scene, along with Man Is The Bastard and Drop Dead, Crossed out were a howling lo-fi mess of blastbeats and mangled riffs, grunting and shrieking through 30 second songs and 12 song 7" sides. This cd collects for the first time (minus a bootleg or two) everything they ever recorded, including their splits with Man Is The Bastard and Drop Dead, as well as a bunch of live stuff. Absolutely essential.
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.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
How can you not love a band called Schnauzer? You can't. Not. Love them! We discovered a super fucked up looking cd in a bargain bin somewhere and bought it just cuz the band was called Schnauzer, and of course it was awesome and of course we were immediately obsessed. So here's a brand new disc from these miscreants, and just so you now what we're talking about here, the cover features a mugshot of some shifty looking dude with a wicked devillock, the songs are called "Total Lunatic" and "Blasted Beyond Belief", and here's a message for the listener in the liner notes: "Do NOT attempt top contact this band. Any efforts to do so will further agitate the members of Schnauzer. If you don't like us now, you CERTAINLY won't like us should we become angry. LEAVE US ALONE." Fuck yeah! And the sound? A furious pounding metallic hardcore, a howling vocalist that sounds a bit like Fozzy The Bear from the Muppets, filthy, cruty, blown out, heavy and MEAN as a Schnauzer!
It's a split with some Cleveland band called Crossface, who are cool, NY style hardcore, short pounding and brutal, two tracks, but it hardly matters really, it's ALL ABOUT SCHNAUZER!!!!!!!!
Uh...ok, this one's straight-up embarrassing. For us, 'cause we kind of like it! Can we even justify reviewing something called Big Fat Box Of Shit? We're usually the first to condemn "joke bands" (and good grief we get enuff of 'em here in San Francisco). But once in a while, against our better judgement, one of 'em make us laugh. Or simply astonishes and astounds us with their (misplaced but) incredible musical chops. Crotchduster is one of those. It's a side project of Florida technical death-metal act Capharnum (whose album Fractured we recommended on list #190) and it reveals their obvious love of Frank Zappa and juvenile, bathroom-stall humor. Definitely not for the easily offended or overly intelligent, as the R-rated sexist, scatalogical "humor" here is definitely dumb. About the only lyrics that aren't overtly rude are all the inside jokes about someone named "Bill Williams"! But the lyrics aside, the way these guys jump from blasting grind to fake AOR to hip hop skits to pop punk to whatever style of music they decide to skewer next is *amazing*. They do it dead-on. I mean, Mr. Bungle never juggled genres as deftly as these guys! Such a genre-splicing approach can either be intended as an avant-garde, post-modern, serious thing, perhaps with weird overtones (Candiria, Naked City, Sigh) or just for yuks (Steven Schultz, Spazztic Blurr, Reggie and the Full Effect, Crotchduster), with the likes of Mr. Bungle and the Secret Chiefs 3 falling somewhere in the middle I guess. So Crotchduster is at the low-brow-for-laffs end of the scale, where the jokes are soooo dumb ("Mammal Sauce"?) but so elaborate (like the interminable fake hate-mail reading towards the end of the disc) that it's almost funny even when it's not funny (or *that* it's not funny, the 'Neil Hamburger effect' we could call it). Insanely stupid but incredibly well done. It'll either leave you laughing or asking "why?" or both... you'll certainly be impressed by the (waste of?) musical talent displayed here. Definitely for Steven Schultz fans...imagine a foul-mouthed, misogynistic Steven Schultz with his mind in the gutter...
If you saw the movie, you know how great this is. The music in 'Crouching Tiger...' was just the icing on an already 7-layered-5-different�kinds�of�icing-and�those�little-edible-hard-icing-flowers cake. Even without the visuals, Yo Yo Ma manages to evoke sadness and beauty, emotions and images. So much better than most of the soundtrack/score pap we've been conditioned to accept. And if you haven't seen it, what the hell's wrong with you!?!?!
We love Rob Crow solo records. Of course we're huge fans of his main gig as one half of Pinback, and will always worship at the altar of late great pop combo Heavy Vegetable, but its on Crow's solo records that he's really able to indulge in the wide range of his idiosyncratic sonic nature. While you can for sure hear the core of what has made Pinback's sound so recognizable and popular, Crow also unleashes tracks here that definitely remind us of his numerous other projects like Heavy Vegetable, Thingy, Optiganally Yours, etc. We're always reminded that one of the things that makes Rob Crow's music so awesome and stand above so many other similar sounding indie artists, is that he has never lost his punk roots. Not that his music sounds "punk", but there is still something so economical and DIY about how his songs are crafted and the spirit they are delivered in. Whether he's making the perfect bummer pop hit, or throwing the record for a loop with a short blast of hardcore glory ("Build"), we're always 100 percent trusting of his vision and individuality.
We read reviews sometimes that compare him to Elliott Smith or other singer songwriters, but we really think he has carved out a world of his own. No matter what kind of record he makes, you can tell it's a Rob Crow record right away. Being able to create a signature sound in this day and age is so fucking rare. He Think's He's People is an awesome collection of new songs that we can't stop listening to, not many folks have the ability to create pop songs that get under our skin and burrow into our ears and STAY there, the way Crow does. One of these days someone needs to release a Rob Crow box set, as he really is responsible for hundreds of incredible songs!
"I Hate You, Rob Crow" isn't just a song from his latest solo album, it's also a super goofy music video. You get both on this cdep plus a couple other songs too! They are the non-album tracks "Sea Sawn" and "Slick" (which is the highlight here, aside from the vid). Short and sweet as it is, this release accurately captures the many facets of Mr. Crow.
Released back in 1996, Lactose Adept was the first solo album from the beloved Rob Crow (not including a split release he did with Lesser the year before). It's a mixed bag of thirty (!) characteristically quirkulous, eclectic musical bits and pieces. Some are only a few seconds long, but they get the ideas across. He and Robert Pollard are running neck and neck in the briefest brevity / biggest quantity pop skills category!
Mr. Rob Crow is one very swell, very talented, very varied and very prolific chap. His awesome projects past and present include Pinback, The Ladies, Heavy Vegetable, Thingy, Optiganally Yours, and oh yes, Goblin Cock too! All of them bear the unmistakable crafty clever catchy stamp of Mr. Crow. His latest solo outing is no exception. All the good stuff that we love about this songsmith is here in spades -- time signature twists, endearing dreamy boy vocals, noodle-oodly guitar lines, and the catchiest hooks. He keeps a lot of the tunes short and sweet, getting right to the heart of the matter and movin' on. Most of the fourteen songs stroll along at a drowsy pace. It's like taking a wonderfully leisurely stroll or bike ride in the warm afternoon sun. As prolific as he is, it could be easy to take Mr. Crow for granted but how could we when he's for sure one of the best songwriters around! Need we say more? Recommended!
Hot on the heels of the new Pinback ep comes a full length solo album from the uber-prolific Rob Crow. As we've come to expect, nothing but the best here. This one, while much like the material he's been doing with his partner Zac in Pinback, has a little bit of everything that makes up the strange musical personality of Mr. Crow. It's such a complete jumble of styles, but even when it seems he's just messing around in his bedroom (which is actually how these records are recorded!) spouting off about Star Wars or other things relevant to Crow's universe, the outcome is leagues better than many of his contemporaries. Along with all the immaculately composed pop hook counterpoint we've grown to love, Rob hits us with an uppercut of left handed grind metal and some faux-Prince soul, with Rob overdubbing ridiculously amazing harmonizing with himself. But it's the pop composition wizardry that makes us envious until we just quiver at the knees and give in.
The latest release from this band of heavy New Orleans doom peddlers. Formerly monolithic, monotonous sludge metal not really on par with the similar likes of EYEHATEGOD, Crowbar have now become a much more mulit-dimensioned band and are well-worth checking out. Fans of the late great Acid Bath should be aware that former AB guitarist Sammy Duet (also now of Goatwhore) has added some of the melody and imagination of Acid Bath to Crowbar's sound. One example: the beautiful piano dirge "To Touch The Hand of God". Also, there's a pretty great cover version of "Dream Weaver" to close out the album!
