The first sonic onslaught from these UK black/death/doomlords, 2009's Hatred For Mankind, boasted some twisted Justin Bartlett cover art, which perfectly reflected the sort of sick sounds that lurked within, sludgey, downtuned blackened death metal dirges, blasting black ritualistic heaviness, abject anguished vokills, feedback drenched crumbling psychedelia, and samples galore. While all of that stuff is still present on Widowmaker, it's presented in a much different context, a sprawling three part, 40 minute, single song, concept record, the sort of thing that just might frustrate extreme metal fans who reveled in the first record's face melting immediacy and skull crushing pummel, but the sort of thing that most of us dig big time.
The first part is a slow building brood, all layered clean guitar, minimal samples, the mood haunting and harrowing, lots of softly swirling drones in the background, a sort of blackened Godspeed is definitely the vibe, it's not until seven minutes in that the song shifts, the clean guitars growing darker and more minimal, droned out and sinister, underpinned by metallic reverberations (cymbals? gongs?), and what sounds like a piano, a creepy, bleary soundscape, with some definite twang, there's even some fiddle (which we initially mistook for harmonica) adding a bit of a gypsy folk vibe to the proceedings, all very unexpected considering the last Dragged Into Sunlight record, in fact, the whole of the first track is essentially an intro, the metal not kicking in until the second part, a grinding blackened riffscape, loping and roiling, a black downtuned swirl, that quickly transforms into a lurching dynamic stop/start, wreathed in feedback, and laced with samples, finally launching into a strange midtempo death metal churn, all grunted vokills, and droned out riffage, the sound weirdly proggy, and super epic, constantly shifting, laced with melodies here and there, eventually, after nearly ten minutes locking into a surprisingly catchy hypno-rock jam, that could seem out of place, but somehow doesn't, which is even more surprising as it leads directly into the third part, which begins all slo-mo tarpit doom sludge creep, but even then, the arrangement is super dynamic, the riffs fading out, leaving just some muted, distorted bass rumbles, over which more samples surface, and from there on out, we imagine the final part to be especially confounding for some metalheads, as it constantly switches between epic, downtuned riff heavy crush, and weird squiggly psychedelic drift, pounding metallic pummel, and dreamy, hushed melodic shimmer, grinding almost black metal blasts, and mathy post rocky groove, before finally seeming to collapse all of those disparate elements into one final, furious, heavy as fuck, blackened sonic blowout.
We've seen lots of negative reviews of this record, but we're guessing it's mostly from metalheads who wanted Hatred For Mankind part 2, as far as we're concerned, for folks into twisted, avant, experimental heaviness, Widowmaker might be tough to beat.
Now available on cd!!
Previously only available as a limited lp via Chris Johanson's Awesome Vistas imprint, this is the debut full length from the strangely monikered Dragging an Ox Through Water, the solo project of Portland multi-instrumentalist Brian Mumford who conjures up a warped Americana of old-timey sounding ballads filtered through damaged electronics, field recordings and off-kilter use of horns, guitars, banjos and kazoos. Imagine the early pop-country side of Arthur Russell covering Neutral Milk Hotel's In an Aeroplane Over the Sea with just a broken guitar, a dented tuba, a child's steel drum and a busted radio shack electronics kit, and you come close to the feel of this oddly beautiful record. Weird and lovely!
Another limited Awesome Vistas release this week along with The Jackie-O Motherfucker lp (reviewed elsewhere on this list) is this debut full length from the strangely monikered Dragging an Ox Through Water. Dragging An Ox Through Water is the solo project of Portland multi-instrumentalist Brian Mumford who conjures up a warped Americana of old-timey sounding ballads filtered through damaged electronics, field recordings and off-kilter use of horns, guitars, banjos and kazoos. Imagine the early pop-country side of Arthur Russell covering Neutral Milk Hotel's In an Aeroplane Over the Sea with just a broken guitar, a dented tuba, a child's steel drum and a busted radio shack electronics kit, and you come close to the feel of this oddly beautiful record. Oh yeah, it's limited!!!! Cool hand screened covers too!
All you cd-r labels out there could learn a thing or two from Dragon, aka Dick Bladwin of Landing and Surface Of Eceyon. The first release on his Mystical Beast label, is packaged in a gorgeous hand sewn, embroidered pouch, a glorious multi-hued dragon spewing fire over the Dragon logo which is bisected by a broad sword, all on a black velvet background. Wow. According to Mr. Baldwin these each take THREE HOURS to make, which is probably why he only made 100 and why we could only get a handful of those. The music inside perfectly compliments the fantastical packaging, lilting hippy folk, with warbly reverbed vocals, over foresty fingerpicking and occasional indie jangle. Tales of dragons (duh), castles, burned villages and the like, punctuated by occasional squalls of fuzzed out psych guitars! So cool. Fans of Incredible String Band, Palace, Devandra, and of course dragons should definitely pick this up.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Japanese avant-garde singer Tenko & her superstar backing band (Otomo Yoshihide, turntables; Kato Hideki, bass; etc.) return with a new recording on John Zorn's Avant label.
Whoa. Argentina's most "weird-ass" Sabbath stylers seem to have gone totally black coffee, forget the decaf. Grinding growling galloping METAL here, folks. Sure there's still proggy changes and acoustic guitars and mad laughter and all sorts of whatnot, but the main focus of these eleven tracks is pretty much kicking your ass with crunchy guitar riffage!! And then barking savagely in gruff Spanish at your crumpled form. Sabbathy doom is still an aspect of their sound, but we'd never mistake this for Cathedral, let alone Kyuss. It's way too fierce and thrashy. If you've heard their previously reviewed (and highlighted) Luciferatu album, or their split with Abdullah, just imagine that but with less crazy "clowning around" we guess you could say. Less eccentric / more EVIL. Or less '70s / more '80s. Perhaps they've been listening to a lot of old Slayer and Celtic Frost lately?! In any event, they're still pretty much our favorite metal band from Argentina, no doubt (we're counting Los Natas as more of a stoner/psych outfit). By the way, we imported these directly from South America and when/if we run out, it'll probably be a while before we get more, just so you know.
Doom metal bands by their very nature are solitary, backwards-looking, miserable creatures. It's not the most popular of rock (or metal) genres, nor does it always attract the most normal or ordinary musicians. Often, doom bands conform to the established Black Sabbath blueprint for the genre, but sometimes in their isolation they wind up going in weirder and weirder directions, influenced by the progressive rock of the '70s that Sabbath themselves began to dabble in circa Sabbath Bloody Sabbath and Sabotage... Argentina's Dragonauta are one of these weirdo doom bands. When we first heard them (on a split cd with fellow Argentinans and AQ-faves Los Natas some years back) they were your basic Sabbathy/Kyussy stoner doom outfit, but now their debut full-length, Luciferatu, shows them to belong to what might be considered the most eccentric, deviant strain of 'doom metal' alongside the obscure, cult likes of Paul Chain, Northwinds, and Dirty Lust... It's a like progged-out, jazz-flecked mixture of Los Natas and Cathedral at their most ridiculous. Heavy riffage, maniac growling Lemmy/phlegmy vox (in a Spanish accent), and much psychedelic strangeness of songwriting and instrumental coloration abound on this album. Definitely one where it's hard to predict where each song will go next! Creative and chaotic yet crushing. Definitely if you like the proggier, bizarro elements of the last couple of Los Natas albums, you'll want to check out Dragonauta!! Includes a video track for your computer by the way with almost twenty minutes of live footage and interview.
Wow. Imagine Captain & Tennille, Shuggie Otis, and Broadcast making a record together. Or even Gary Wilson and United States of America making some skewed electronic but totally weird and catchy seventies yacht rock (ok, we realize that may sound terrible to some folks, but it really works awesomely here!). The Dragon brothers, Doug and Dennis (of Surf Punks fame!), sometimes joined by their other brother Darryl (aka "The Captain" of Captain and Tennille!) and sister Carmen on harp, recorded BFI (short for Blue Forces Intelligence?!) in Malibu during the early seventies inspired by surfing and the explosive late sixties west coast music scene of The Doors, Byrds, CSN, etc. Unfortunately, all the connections they had as a popular musical family in Los Angeles (their father was a well known conductor and symphony arranger in Hollywood) gave them great studio access but didn't yield the recording contract they were looking for. Most of the labels they shopped it to liked the record but didn't see any single potential. So the masters were shelved and the brothers went their separate ways. It wasn't until DJ Food from Ninja Tune contacted Dennis Dragon to ask permission to use a Dragons' track ("Food For My Soul") from an obscure surf movie soundtrack for a mix tape he was making, that it was discovered that a whole Dragons album was recorded. Thankfully Ninja Tune resurrected BFI from the musical graveyard because it's fast becoming one of our favorite "buried treasures". Full of Moog grooves, break beats, jazz inflected piano, and high and low male voices, BFI is one of the most surprising and eccentrically sunny LA records we've heard in these parts in awhile that sounds completely timeless. Highly recommended! Oh, and if you loved the reissue by hippy surf psych band The Farm on EM Records, these are some of the same guys responsible for that album!
We may have unfairly pegged local guitarist Matt Baldwin. His records are big time faves around here, gorgeous mesmerizing guitarscapes, from raga infused psychedelic folk to Fripp / Rother style cosmic guitar explorations, we sell them like crazy, and they get played all the time in the store as well, so when it cam time to review a recent release on Baldwin's Psychic Arts label, we were all prepared for some blissed out guitarscapery, but instead, we got Cryptic Cross, a twisted lo-fi weirdo metal band from the East Bay, whose sound was murky and buzzy and psychedelic and sort of insane, and really about as far as you can get from Baldwin's solo records. So we were determined not to make the same mistake with this most recent Psychic Arts release, from the strangely named Dragontime, another group from Oakland, the cd featuring some cool psychedelic Rainbow Brite style paste on cover art, that definitely points to something a bit on the weird side.
And it's that artwork that maybe gives the biggest clue to what's going on here, cuz it's as far removed from the warped metal of Cryptic Cross as it is from Matt Baldwin's records. The opening track is all pulsing rhythms and synth swirls, kind of new agey, a little bit like video game music, a bit of swirly kosmische shimmer, quite cool actually, but definitely not what we were expecting, a sort of prismatic glistening rainbowscape. The second tracks adds ethereal female vox, and it's transformed into a soundtrack to some low budget fantasy film, a little 4AD, a little swoonsome shoegaze dreampop. After that the record continues to mutate and shift, from fuzzy, warbly organ minimalism, to an almost jazzy sounding lo-fi synth heavy tropical ballad, and from strange alien Asian video game folk music, all processed vox and dreamy melodies, to a murky, softly buzz shimmerscape, and from skeletal sun dappled folk pop, to droned out ominous cinematic synthscapery.
Definitely far out, and seriously super cool too, a little like a female Fastest, conjuring up her own sort of 8-bit shoegaze soundworld, that we can't seem to stop listening to...
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES, hand numbered!
On this pro-duped, full color printed cd-r release Huffing Gas, one-man-home-studio-band George Draguns (a skilled skateboarder, noted wit, professional historic preservationist, and one of the many former fillers of the bass-playing position in Pennsylvania math rockers Don Caballero) has crafted a collection of instrumental tracks that are kinda post rock, even almost psych or krautrocky in spots... definitely all very moody and low-key and quite pleasurable. Not surprisingly, these were originally composed as soundtrack music for a friend's independent film project. But these need no visuals, this music is fine all by itself, although the cover art -- a strange painting entitled "Pumaseance" -- seems appropriate, somehow. The track titles, too, are jokey nonsequiturs ("Fake Drug Problem", "A New Hat", "Free Ironic Mustache Rides", "Addiction Overdose") that bear no evident relation to the sound of each piece. Some tracks have a droney groove that reminds us a bit of Circle's jazzier cousin Ektroverde, others are darker and mellower. It's hard to describe this, really. "31st Century Maximal Minimalism" is offered up by the science-fiction inspired liner notes, but that's no help is it? Whatever it is, we like it. George now has a band project happening (Thee New Zealand, a stoner rock outfit) but we hope he continues with his solo home-recorded experiments as well.
King Coffey of the Butthole Surfers does the drone-breakbeat-trance thing pretty well.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
This is the first we've heard from these Irish heavies, who specialize in a face melting brand of pulverizing metallic crust, liberally dosed with heaping of good old noise rock, and Southern style sludge. The label cites Eyehategod and His Hero Is Gone, which is definitely pretty spot on, but there's plenty more happening here, for us the noise rock thing seems to dominate, a sort of Black Flag meets Unsane or something, but then just as soon as we're feeling that, the sound switches gears, and the band is pounding out a punkish blast, but then it's right back into the warped stuttery noise rock, which is maybe why we dig this stuff so much. They sort of take all our favorite things and jam them together. That same song we were just describing, well, there's some seriously sludge-y Eyehategodisms going on there too. But somehow, all of those disparate parts fit together pretty perfectly.
The guitars are crunchy, distorted, super noisy, droned out too, with riffs blurred and smeared and stretched way out into super tense high end sprawls, which only makes it that much more dramatic when the song collapses back into some roiling noisy convoluted churn.
There's plenty of melody going on too, but these guys definitely don't flaunt it, instead just occasionally slipping into a little drift before the next avalanche of downtuned crush or explosion of frenzied pound. But for all of their influences, these guys definitely have their own thing, they're masters of dynamics, and tension and release, with weirdly structured arrangements, and ever shifting tempos and parts, mixing in long stretches of processed noise, weirdly distorted FX, letting chords ring out and crumble, turning sludgey doom into something weirdly groovy, and taking punked out metal and making it almost proggy, a sort of super heavy math metal sludge, that as if you couldn't tell by now, RULES.
And So Our Troubles Began is actually a compilation, gathering up two out of print vinyl eps, but somehow it plays pretty well as a single album proper, although we're primed now to hear what they come up with for a proper full length.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES, each one machine numbered.
So, maybe you're like us, we get curious when we learn about a reissue of some obscure metal band we'd never heard of before, especially if they're from, say, Eastern Europe, and have a cool album cover/motto like this one does ("Dragon music of Prague / Mystic metal" it says on the cover, below a painting of a bug-eyed Oriental dragon). But, even then, we don't expect it to be anything THAT great, just, well, a curiosity. But, turns out that late '80s/early '90s Czechoslovakian band Drakar are more than a mere Iron Curtain metal novelty, they're actually pretty good, this is a legit contender, on par with much better-known Western metal classics, seriously. Ask anyone (who has heard it). And yeah it's a bit weird, too!
This release is a reissue of their debut album from 1990, two versions of it actually (hence the two discs), one in Czech, the other an English-language version. Despite the year, this isn't generic thrash or speed metal, though it is often speedy - and it's certainly not death metal or black metal, either, though fans of Root and Master's Hammer might well enjoy it. Drakar have obviously got '80s (and '70s) classic, melodic heavy metal roots, sounding even a bit like Thin Lizzy at times, but also incorporate unexpected usage of sampling; collages of commercial radio broadcasts and snatches of classical music and the like are woven in here and there. Also especially of note are the whining, wailing guitars. The guitar work is awesome, though they don't let the shred get in the way of the songs, it's just one element, likewise with the chunky riffs and gruff, sneering, sometimes soaring, vocals.
Speaking of vocals, the stand out song might be the one where they seem the silliest, on "Crazy Boy", the title/chorus being in English, in both versions. Can't get the way he sings "crazeee boohoy" out of our heads. It's a bit funny, yes, of course we like it 'cause of that, and even the mostly-non-metal-inclined among us here at AQ found this interesting/amusing as well. But that song, and the rest of the record, are also worthy 'cause the melodies are strong, and the harmonies are plentiful and lovely.
Ok, probably that's enough, we've made it clear this is quite recommended, and also it's limited to 500 copies, and our suppliers are all out already... when we contacted the label in Sweden to get some to list, they were down to their last 25! We got a bunch of those from them, but this handful will be gone soon, and then it doesn't look like we'll be able to get any more, so be warned.
Lovingly packaged by I Hate Records, the thick cd booklet including lyrics, liner notes about the band, and old photos. Also the cd contains a video clip for one of the songs, that you can watch on your komputoor.
Autumn Sunday mornings just got a little sweeter with this release we have been waiting ages for. We first heard Molly Drake, the mother of the British folksinger Nick Drake, years ago on a compilation of early Nick Drake recordings called Family Tree that featured only a couple of her songs. While that compilation attempted to position her as a key influence on the popular folksinger, we weren't quite convinced back then, but we sure are now. Squirrel Thing, the New York label that brought us the sad and lovely Connie Converse album a few years ago has compiled an amazing collection of 19 original songs that not only confirms Molly Drake's indelible influence on the musical output of her son, but also showcases Molly Drake as an amazing artist and songwriter in her own right. These intimate original songs recorded in the fifties and featuring just her voice and piano are beautifully poignant and moving. Like the work of Connie Converse and Sibylle Baier, they reveal a veiled melancholy in their pure-toned and dryly heartfelt delivery as well as their charmed combination of majestic wistfulness and simple plainsong. One can see clearly now that Molly Drake's seemingly simple but technically complex arrangements, sadly wise and effortlessly delivered as a key compositional influence on the songwriting of her son. Highest recommendation!
Vinyl is packaged in a beautiful die-cut sleeve. Download card included.
In hopefully what will be the last attempt to squeeze blood from the Nick Drake stone, we get this CD of 28 early home recordings that showcase the raw beginning of Drake's brilliant songcraft and the previously unacknowledged influence Drake's family, particularly his mother and sister, had on his musical upbringing. It's a pretty interesting (but not entirely essential) collection of lo-fi recordings some of which were sketches for songs that would appear later on Pink Moon and Five Leaves Left, and there are one or two tracks that were originally released on the Time of No Reply anthology. The highlights include a duet with sister Gabrielle called "All My Trials" that we wish there was more of, and "They're Leaving Me Behind" which sounds like an early version of "Parasite" from Pink Moon with different lyrics. Occasional classical pieces by The Family Trio and a couple of old songs sung by his mother Molly are nice but act as little more than interludes rather than the indelible familial influences the compilers claim them to be. Like the pitfalls that befell the Nick Drake documentary, A Skin Too Few, the slimness of Drake's output and life is stretched so thin in order to supposedly reveal the minutest new insights into a mysterious figure, that we forget that the enigmatic mystery is the reason his work is so compelling in the first place. Revealing every tiny sketch of an artist's process and claiming them important only gives fodder to the backlash campaign that has started ever since "Pink Moon" was featured in a VW ad. Which is unfortunate for an artist who has never had any say or control over his own legacy, save for three brilliant records, which should be plenty enough for anyone.
This all time beloved AQ tresure, out of print for ages, finally gets reissued, in time to give as a gift, to ANYONE you know who might not have this, because everyone should own these records. Some of the most breathtakingly lovely folk music EVER. Now with new artwork, and with the addition of the recent Nick Drake documentary A Skin Too Few. To make room for the dvd, they bumped the odds and sods collection Time Of No Reply, but is not such a loss, as much of that stuff has surfaced in one form or another in the recent spate of collections gathering up anything and everything Drake ever recorded.
But here, in addition ot the movie, you get everything you need, all three classic albums: Pink Moon, Bryter Layter and Five Leaves Left. Breatless, intimate, heartfelt, tragic, lovely, dreamy, wistful, heart breaking, personal, intense and mysterious folk music that sounds as otherworldly as it does timeless.
In a super nice box, with a new 100 page book. Absolutely essential.
Here's an odd posthumous release that very well may only appeal to those hungering for *any* 'new' Nick Drake recordings. If you have Time Of No Reply, some of these songs might seem a little familiar. Many of that album's songs appear here in alternate versions that were either recently 'discovered' or have had one or all of the following applied to them: rerecorded, remixed, remastered. Released thirty years after Drake's passing, Made To Love Magic has a few moments that are indeed a bit sticky. Some artistic decisions were made that obviously Drake had no say in -- for instance, the addition of some very recently recorded orchestral arrangements to a couple of songs. This compilation closes with the one truly previously unreleased track "Tow The Line". For Drake completists only.
As heard on TV... Yes, this record has come to unfortunately be synonymous with television commercials for automobiles, but please don't let that dissuade you from visiting (or revisiting) a truly great album!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Long a treasured 'bootleg' amongst Drake fans, these are 18 rare home recordings that sit comfortably beside his 4 other essential albums. So lovely!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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A brand new full length from black ambient soundscaper, Drakh, the last prolific former member of black ambient terrorists MZ412 (his more prolific partner being Nordvargr!), and it's on one of our favorite labels too, Brazil's Essence Music, who in the past have brought us incredible releases from Acid Mothers Temple, Henrik Nordvargr Bjorkk, Boris, Merzbow and Rapoon. But this is not the regular release, we are honored to be the only place in the world, other than the label itself to be selling the super limited, deluxe, handmade boxset version, limited to just 99 copies, completely sold out, except for a handful saved just for us, and for you. These are pricey, but they are incredible, gorgeously and lovingly assembled, with TONS of extra stuff, and there are only about 10 copies left, so get one before they're gone. More on the record proper in a second, but figured we'd best explain what all comes in the box, in fact first there's the box itself, a completely handmade and hand assembled collage-painting-relief book-like boxset housing a long accordion folding insert with 11 attached landscape postcards - based on the album's theme and artwork - displaying stunning abstract watercolor paintings. Just like the box itself, each one of the pieces is uniquely and individually hand painted (no screens) by artist Iremir Oscar. In addition to the custom 6-panel digisleeve packaging, featuring stunning and desolate photography by Seldon Hunt, also included is a mini cd-r with four album remixes by some of Drakh's partners in sonic crime - Nordvargr, K. Meizter, Des Esseintes and Cordell Klier!
WOW. Like we said, there are only about 10 of these left, we are taking PRE-ORDERS for these, they are NOT in stock, once we know how many we need, we'll order them from Brazil and should have them within a week to 10 days. So if you order this with other stuff, your order will ship minus the Drakh box, which will ship by itself, or if you are a regular mailorder customer, probably in your next order, but you will be charged for it NOW, but if you want one, definitely don't dawdle.
The latest blackened drone missive from Drakh, as mentioned above formerly of MZ412, and most notable to aQ-ers, one half of the Nordvargr / Drakh duo, whose last record was released on Andee's tUMULt label. Bethlehem is a sonic travelogue, it's unclear if the sounds themselves are culled from the actual locations, or if these sounds are merely inspired by various places Drakh visited over the last few years, but the theme is reflected in a surprisingly varied sonic palette, which is not at all the grim bleak blackness of his past outings. Bethlehem begins as a dark dreamy swirl, laced with strange industrial rhythms, it's almost like the darkest creepiest dubstep ever, laced with voices, slow creeping swells, the dark skitter gives way to something much more ominous, a crumbling distorted dronescape, laced with strange snippets of spoken word, a creaking mysterious melody, and lots of crumbling hiss and crackle, before drifting into a sort of extra abrasive stretch of pop ambience, the core sound a hushed melodic drift, but wrapped in a sparking staticky gauzy, simultaneously dreamlike and strangely abrasive. Which sort of describes the whole record, deep heaving soft focus swells pulse and throb beneath a patina of buzz and whir, strange electronic percolations skitter atop a sea of electronic glitchery and blackened rumbles, like a malfunctioning Portishead, hushed warm washes of chordal hum slowly splinter into what sounds like Philip Jeck spinning old dusty field recordings, buzzing black noise is muted and smeared into bleary grey blurs, that seem to melt into warbly melodies, and slowly decaying looped crawls, crumbling industrial beatscapes lurch and lumber, a strange mechanized sonic beast, loping through a gorgeously hypnotic rhythmscape, so epic and evocative and mesmerizing, the whole record the perfect hybrid of blackened ambience, blissed out drift, and that sort of gauzy looped Jeckian soundscapery. Fantastic!
We WILL have the standard version, keep your eyes peeled for it on a future list, or ask us to reserve you one, but those of you who want the DOUBLE DISC HANDMADE DELUXE BOXSET, now's the time...
Who knew so much pure evil lurked deep in the depths of (supposedly) sunny California, especially right here in San Francisco. The legendary Weakling (R.I.P.), the ungodly blackened evil of Leviathan, the blazing, bleak torment of Crebain (also coming soon on tUMULt), and now the grim, funereal, majestic savagery of Draugar's From Which Hatred Grows.
Haunting and atmospheric, brutal and buzzing, blighted and black. Fingerpicked acoustic guitars explode into roaring, soul-shearing riffs, pounding drums demarcate hazy blackened soundscapes of misanthropic brutality and gorgeously melodic impurity, damaged and demented arrangements underpin hellish profane howls of utter anguish. Yeah, black metal at its best with nary a glacier or fjord in sight. Yet, as Burzumically brutal as it all is, you could be listening to this and suddenly forget and mistakenly think you've got some fucked up experiment in lo-fi ambient drone psychedelia on your stereo instead. Keyboards warble WAY above the mix, drums and vocals and guitars are whipped into Merzbow-ic blasts of white noise, blast beats are obliterated into gentle expanses of delicate acoustic guitars and droning ambient hum, the whole thing a gorgously perplexing blast of bizarre blackened sonic experimentation. Much like the infamous Benighted Leams confused and astounded us once upon a time with its outsider genius, Draugar transcends black metal musical norms, making truly abnormal, artistic sound with unknown boundaries. Like Leviathan and our other favorite California black metal act Xasthur, it's the one-man-alone, far from the "scene" aspect that seems to foster a creativity beyond that of many ordinary black metal bands. From Which Hatred Grows is one of those rare metal records that manages to be true and grim, buzzing and black, but also a truly unique sonic vision that should find its way into the collection of every adventurous music lover.
The black ice continues to spread, a grim black metal glacier slowly enveloping all with ears to hear. The West Coast black metal contingent's influence grows steadily, until one day hell walks the earth. Sorry, getting carried away. If the above scene had some sort of hierarchy, Leviathan would undoubtedly be the king. Xasthur would be a prince, or perhaps another king vying for supreme power. Crebain would be a knight, sent to slay all who shall dare oppose, and then Draugar, well Draugar would be the kings ex-vizier, locked in a dark dank dungeon, insane and murderous and demented, from years of no light, eating bugs, lack of sleep, and staring endlessly into blackness. Draugar is definitely the black sheep of this already black family, imbuing his home recorded evil, with the grim buzz of classic black metal, but with a healthy dollop of damged brilliance a la Benighted Leams, Lurker Of Chalice, or Striborg. Buzzy and black, droning and depressive, Draugar more than holds his own amidst the blackened elite, but somehow, everything he touches turns to what-the-fuck? Gentle clean arpeggiated clean guitar melodies are way up in the mix, layed atop a sluggish stream of indistinct guitar fuzz and Whitehouse-ish vocals. Sounding a little like somebody taped Darkthrone over a Slint record on an old C90 that had been in their back pocket for a month. Loping midtempo buzz over buried angelic choruses, like Morricone's The Mission performed by Graveland. Occasional ambient breaks, where guitar melodies wander aimlessly across barren soundscapes of distant rumble and creepy shimmer. Sometimes the riff seems to just splinter apart and what was moments earlier a galloping black metal juggernaut, has become a seasick drone. contructed from fuzzy almost melodies and vocals so distorted and so affected they sound like bursts of radio static. As always, heavy and grim and completely fucked!
**SALE **SALE* *SALE**
Never reviewed this, just have a couple copies. Draugsang are Norwegian, Morker are Swedish, they did this split record of Black Metal fury back in 2006. Limited to 500 copies then, likely out of print now. Calling all Vikings!
Another blast of cassette encased demented blackness this time from a mysterious Brazilian black metal horde called Draugurz, who in the past have shared a split with AQ faves Marblebog.
Draugurz are of the ultra anguished midtempo doom drenched black metal persuasion, with a super buzzy and brittle guitar sound, stumbling drums way up in the mix, fuzzed out murky minor key keyboards and EXTREMELY tortured vocals, the kind that howl and scream and caterwaul...
A Yell From The Past (awesome title!) is a collection, a sort of greatest hits, drawn from two demos and the split with Marblebog, and the whole thing is a gorgeously lo-fi, dark and torturous journey through a black musical wasteland. Slow trudging doom gives way to lurching midtempo buzz gives way to a furious blast that is so blown out it threatens to transform into a smear of Merzbowian white noise. Heavy and weird and mysterious, haunting and heavy and so very dementedly black.
Killer cover too, some sort of cartoonish ghost drifting above the forest.
Warning: the tape has some drop outs and some serious sonic inconsistencies, but just consider that another element of Draugurz's weird world and they sound almost like they belong... ----* ----* Selected New Arrivals : ----*
The first proper full length from Drcarlsonalbion, the alter-ego of Dylan Carlson, he of twang flecked dronelords Earth, who along with Earth drummer Adrienne Davies, has crafted this gorgeous bit of psychedelic drift, a soundtrack to a film called Gold, and really, fans of recent Earth records might think they've stumbled onto a new Earth record, although the music on Gold is much more spare and minimal, especially considering that mostly it's Carlson on guitar, with just a bit of percussive filigree from Davies. It's a sort of washed out and woozy, sun baked Appalachia, a definite desert blues vibe, most of the tracks here super short, many more like the film cues they are, than proper songs, with Carlson unfurling hazy, bluesy riffs, and letting them ring out, slowly decay, in clouds of reverb and delay, echoey shimmers ringing out like ripples in water, each track here some sort of dark folk ritual, some smoldering and cloaked in shadow, others bathed in sunlight, but most of the tracks here, just Carlson on some back porch, with an old broken bottle for a slide, and playing through a busted old combo, the notes wreathed in soft FX and let loose to drift on the afternoon breeze, or be carried skyward by soft swirls of black smoke, the campfire vibe is huge here too. It's hard to say what the movie Gold is all about, having not seen it, or even read anything about it, but we're imagining some sort of Cormac McCarthy style bleakness, vast expanses of dusty roads, and dilapidated farmhouses, dying crops and slope shouldered workers toiling in the fields. It has that sort of wasted, hopeless feel, endless days, and the brief respite of night. Gorgeous stuff for sure.
Packaged in an oversized heavy weight tip-on style sleeve, includes a download code as well.
The third installment, and the first full length recording, in a newly launched series of recordings from Dylan Carlson, he of the mighty Earth, once dirge-y sludgelords, now twangflecked dronefolk drifters, here performing as Drcarlsonalbion. Originally envisioned as a solo project, now expanded to a trio, which finds Carlson and Co. indulging their love/obsession with British music and occultic folklore, in the form of a sound not really that far removed from modern Earth in fact, the tracks here unfurling in hazy swaths of gauzy, dreamlike ambience, spidery guitar melodies, loose shimmery chords, spread out over a lush expanses of long layered tones, and blurred field recordings, sans vocals it sounds like a drumless Earth, it's easy to imagine these tracks tethered to a simple, spare, skeletal beat, but freed from any sort of rhythm, the sounds here billow and buzz, thick blackened clouds of rumbling, crumbling distortion, wash over delicate, crystalline arrangements of measured melancholy, over which vocalist Teresa Colamonaco delivers her haunting recitations, at least on the first track. But those spoken word vocals appear mostly on the first track, she's got a lovely powerful croon as well, and most of the tracks are either instrumental, or strident folk songs featuring Colamonaco's voice prominently, especially on tracks like "Reynardine", which pairs reverby chords with keening distant feedback, and heaving chordal swells, or the brief but swaggery "Wicked Annabella". All the tracks here but one are actually covers, or at least reintepretations of standards and old favorites, all culminating in a killer version of PJ Harvey's "Last Living Rose", which somehow manages to capture the feral energy of the original, while still managing to make it fit into Drcarlsonalbion's more tranquil and darkly psychedelic songsuite.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES (of both the cd and lp versions), both come in the immediately recognizable white on brown Latitudes sleeves, and include a full color printed insert, both with green metallic foil printing, the cd in the usual origami style packaging, the lp sleeve elaborately die cut, the vinyl pressed on green wax.
We almost weren't able to review this one at all, as the first pressing sold out in a heartbeat in the UK. Thankfully the lovely folks at The Tapeworm label, made a whole second special pressing just for all of us over on this side of the Atlantic, a special "obsidian mirror" edition, in which the cover and the tape are white on black, instead of the more recognizable black on white of most Tapeworm releases. But what's all the hubbub about then? Well, in case you hadn't figured it out, Drcarlsonalbion is in fact Dylan Carlson, he of twang flecked desert drifters and former sludgelords Earth, who on this, his first proper solo release, explores his occult interests in capturing the sounds on the A side at the Waterloo station and along the Thames river, both apparently sites "of personal occult experience", the sounds themselves though are lovely, a gorgeous gristly drone, blurred sheets of static, and deep moaning tones, softly undulating, sort of like a crackling electrical field slowed waaaaay down. Carlson's added some guitars and vocals, but blended those seamlessly into the smeared ambience. The vibe is very Philip Jeck or Tim Hecker, hazy and gauzy, washed out and dreamy, darkly meditative and hauntingly abstract, really in fact quite beautiful.
The flipside is guitar, vocals and mellotron, the lyrics according to the liner notes, are Enochian versions of those found on the A side! Those vocals are delivered like some strange sermon, the words nearly lost in the gorgeous swirling maelstrom of distorted guitars and swirling feedback, it's like some ancient ritual, some Druidic rite performed on some ancient stone plinth, on a windswept mountain top, one that just so happened to feature mounds of amplifiers and rows of distortion pedals. Meditative and psychedelic, blackened and blissed out. Sort of like old earth blurred into something more like Sunroof!, with Carlson the mysterious wild eyed shaman, his cloaked visage nearly obscure in the cloud of buzz and thrum and whir and howl. Awesome.
LIMITED TO 200 COPIES!!! These are the last and only ones we'll be able to get. Cover art by Savage Pencil.
The first release from The Wormhole, a non tape offshoot of UK label the Tapeworm, comes in the form of this long in the works double 7" from Drcarlsonalbion, aka Dylan Carlson of doomtwang slowcore sludgelords Earth. We first heard from Carlson's alter ego on the now out of print Tapeworm tape Edward Kelley's Blues, which found Carlson beginning to musically explore his fascination with the occult and UK folklore, that record a mix of field recordings (of particularly occultic locations), Carlson's guitar, and some subtle vocals (sung in Enochian at one point) sounding not that far removed from Earth, albeit at their most bleary and softly psychedelic. The sound here finds Carlson creating dark, droning, buzz drenched sprawls of psychedelic guitar buzz, and twang flecked shimmer, and this time is even less removed from modern Earth, the music here a backdrop for spoken word by UK spoken word poet / activist Rosie Knight, the combination is pretty potent, Knight's lyrics mysterious, her voice nicely raspy, her accent thick, it definitely speaks to a sort of witchy seventies acid folk vibe, which we would imagine is precisely what Carlson was hoping to conjure. But for those of you (like some of us here), have issues with 'spoken word', fear not, the second 7" in this double set features instrumental versions of both tracks, and sans spoken word, they are essentially two new Earth cuts!
Not sure how limited this is, but we're guessing VERY. You know what that means...
Debut from this mysterious doom drone industrial noise outfit, one of FIVE new releases on Waves Of Decay (along with Wicked King Wicker, Demonologists, Skin Graft, and Robe.), and the sound of Dreaded fits pretty perfectly with those others, as well as outfits like Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, Wolf Eyes, Colossloth, SUNNO))), Khanate, R.Y.N., Amort and other practitioners of the slow/low/grim black arts.
A slow build of creeping crumbling ambience opens things up, thick swirls of sludgey black drift, a caustic cloud of black ambience, shot through with slivers of buried feedback, truncated melodies, the sound slipping into hypnotic swells, threatening to explode but instead locked into a haunting, mesmerizing creep. Elsewhere electronics buzz and rumble, the sound minimal, but ominous and ever darkening, subtly cinematic, peppered with bits of industrial crunch, clipped bits of downtuned riffage, sent careening into the ether, strange tangles of tape decay stutter and corrosive low end crumble, the whole thing a sprawling, gut wrenching, soul stirring expanse of bleak, black dronedoom minimalism, blending the hushed minimal drift of all those Drone Records singles, with something far more abject and hateful. Killer stuff for sure. Absolutely recommended for any one into ANY of the above mentioned bands.
Super nice packaging, silver ink on black card stock, LIMITED TO 100 COPIES, of which we have but a handful...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
This is indeed some kind of dream unit! Thurston from Sonic Youth, free jazz legend Paul Flaherty, free drum wunderkind Chris Corsano, Heather who runs Volcanic Tongue and some mysterious bassist called Count Hejnowski.
Together these monsters of abstract free jazz avant noise whip up a slow burning frenzy of roiling instrumental fury.
But let's take a step back first and talk about the cover. Wow, is the artwork cool. The cover is a painting of some strange vampiric sideburned man with a bloody beaked raven on his shoulder clutching a bloody eyeball. On the back, a headless man, all bloody necked, clutching a skull. Inside, wolves with bloody mouths and owls with bloody talons. On the disc, bloody eyed nun attacked by birds. The theme is definitely blood, and that theme runs through the music as well.
A dark roiling maelstrom of burbling, minimal groove, that builds into a furious tangle of angular guitars and bloody drum splatter, horns bleat and squeak, lap steel slips and slides and gives everything a haunting unhinged vibe. Really quite beautiful in an overthetop, head shearing free music blowout kind of way.
Most of the tracks fall into that template, a sort of skittish circling, each player warily eyeing the other, feeling the situation out, offering up little salvos of sound, before eventually all launching into the fray and wildly tearing the throats out of the instruments in glorious musical bloodbath after glorious musical bloodbath. The brooding, murky, slow swirly passages are the most moving, but it's impossible to not stand transfixed, watching as they slowly twist and contort into something fearsome and fanged. The listener like one of the cover paintings, frozen like a deer in the headlights, or a helpless teenager before a mysterious monster, just waiting to be devoured.
Reissue of this obscure doom-death classic, the precursors to Penance. Definitely a hefty footnote in the history of heavy.
This is the raging politi-punk / hardcore debut from Indianapolis' The Dream Is Dead. With their hoarse, full-tilt vocals and thick aggressive guitars, TDID are very much akin to bands like Born Against or Poison Idea. In fact, the ep's finale is a rad cover of P.I.'s "Just To Get Away". Features cover art by Shepard Fairey.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
First we've listed, but the fourth issue of George Parson's densely packed 'zine of indie/folk/pop/drone music and some other related culture as well. Readers of the dear departed Broken Face will feel right at home. This issue takes in/on all this and more: Terry Riley, Black Forest/Black Sea, Volcano The Bear, The Kitchen Cynics, the Jewelled Antler bunch, the Last Visible Dog label, Marianne Nowottny, Cul de Sac, Bernard Stollman and his ESP-Disk, Richard Davies, Tanakh, Fursaxa, Pop-Off Tuesday, the Jandek On Corwood documentarians... Plus there's a gizillion reviews in a tiny tiny typeface. AND, a cd with previous unreleased stuff by several of the artists mentioned above and others.
If you like to read about music as well as listen to it (we should assume you do, since you're reading our list), especially those of you who find yourselves missing the excellent-but-now-discontinued Broken Face 'zine, may we suggest the equally massive and indie-acid-folk-psych obsessed Dream Magazine from right here in California? The fifth issue is now upon us, 128 pages packed with tons of interviews and reviews (in eyeball straining tiny type). Artists featured include Ghost, Elf Power, Kemialliset Ystavat, Marissa Nadler, Tom Rapp, Sun City Girls (lots of good stuff in that interview!), John "Blind Man's Penis" Trubee, Donovan Quinn of Verdure/Skygreen Leopards, Robert Wyatt, Mushroom, Bipolaroid, Ed Hardy of Eclipse Records, and even Mats Gustafsson (not the saxophonist, but the former editor/publisher of the Broken Face!). And more. Whew. Plus, it comes with its own soundtrack: a cd compilation that's got unreleased tracks by Jack Rose, Piano Magic, Verdure, Volcano The Bear, and others...
The way we used to eagerly await issues of the Broken Face magazine (RIP) we now await issues of the similiarly-focussed Dream Magazine (for whom former BF editor Mats Gustafsson often writes). Here's the new issue, filled to the brim as usual with interviews and reviews devoted to the fringes of indie/folk/drone/psych music-making (112 pages worth). Featured this time 'round: Current 93, My Cat Is An Alien, Steve Roden, Vibracathedral Orchestra, Michael Gira, Six Organs Of Admittance, Jonathan Richman, Windy & Carl, Lichens, Whysp, Nick Castro, Brad Rose, Bridget St. John, Eric Matthews, Adrian Crowley, A Hawk And A Hacksaw, and more more more. While Dream Magazine won't likely win any awards for beautiful lay-out or graphic design, you can't argue that it's not crammed with content. And as usual, this ish comes with a cd packed with *unreleased* tracks by many of the folks in the magazine and then some, including Black Forest/Black Sea, Vibracathedral Orchestra, My Cat Is An Alien, Steve Roden, Windy & Carl, and Bridget St. John doing a Devendra Banhart cover!
The latest issue of indie/folk/drone/psych tome, Dream magazine, helping to fill the void left by the loss of the late great Broken Face.
This time in the magazine: Loren Connors, P.G. Six, Yellow6, Antony Milton, Josephine Foster, Beequeen, Ivor Cutler, Henry Flynt, Larkin Grimm, Sharron Kraus, Tor Lundvall, Linda Perhacs, Mayo Thompson and of course a massive amount of record reviews.
And as always, it comes with a cd as well, jam packed with rare and unreleased tracks from Function, Adrian Crowley, Mike Tamburo, Sharron Kraus, Keenan Lawler, Lumeny, The Kitchen Cynics, Farina, The Moon Upstairs, Absalom, Yellow6, St. Mary's, The Left Outsides, Crashing Dreams, Freiband and Tor Lundvall.
One of the finest examples of California post-punk gets a well deserved vinyl reissue. The Dream Syndicate, long associated with the early eighties Paisley Underground scene with The Bangles, Three O'Clock, and Rain Parade amongst many other bands, had a much more dour Velvet Underground inspired sound than their contemporaries, marked by long feed-back riddled passages. "When You Smile" and "Tell Me When It's Over" are exceptionally perfect gloomy anthems. Released on Slash in 1982 and produced by Chris D. (The Flesh Eaters), the band features Kendra Smith (Opal) on bass and vocals. Essential!
Following the 2006 self-released debut 7" ("The One I Need / Dance Party") from these Bay Area honey pies, here's Dreamdate's slightly longer winded first full length. As the 'cut to the chase' title suggests, why wait? Dreamdate get right to their business of brightening our day with their short, snappy tunes. The overall sound of Dreamdate can readily be spoken of in the same breath as early '90s crushworthy indie pop a la Lois, cub and Tiger Trap. As the unaffected and uneffected electric guitars strum away happily and the drums keep things simple with an uncluttered beat, you might find yourself hummin' along with these gals' warm, smooth female vocals. Nice.
Two songs were recorded, mixed by the equally sweet pop minded Aaron Burnham of The Makes Nice who also mastered the album.
The proof's in the pudding... indie girl pop is alive and well! Evidence? Patience, the sophomore full length from those Bay Area sweeties known as Dreamdate. The follow up to 2007's Come On Now is as perky, peppy and pretty as its predecessor, but maybe a bit more self assured. Patience is packed with one dozen youthfully spirited, mid-fi tunes that'll put a skip in your step and a jingle-jangle charm in your heart! Most certainly for fans of cub, Tiger Trap, Heavenly, Lois and The Shams, as well as recent like-minded combos such as Summer Cats and Dum Dum Girls! And they even give a snuggly nod to the original cuddlecore queens Cub with their cover of the Vancouver trio's ditty "Go Fish". Ooooh la la! Oooh eeee cha cha!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Here's a short, sweet, little treat from new Bay Area band Dreamdate! Their pair of bright girly indie pop tunes comes perfectly pressed on thick bubblegum pink vinyl. Yummy to look at, yummy to hear!
Dreamend's new album brings to mind a countrified Mogwai or Godspeed You Black Emperor. Sleepy slide guitar twang cozies up to dynamic swell'n'crash waves. This contrast is perhaps best revealed in the seventh and eighth songs ("Slide Song" and The Old House & Its Occupants"). Indeed, one listen to As If By Ghosts may have you believing that Dreamend are part of the whole Montreal GYBE music collective, but they're not! Haunting and beautiful. Released on Graveface Records, home to some other fine bands we've been diggin of late -- namely Spires That In The Sunset Rise and Monster Movie.
This long-awaited legit reissue of the lost classic by one man band the Dreamies will easily provide hours of crypto-analytic fun in response to the question "Who else besides the Beatles have the Olivia Tremor Control blatantly copied/paid homage to?" Kidding aside, we promise you could totally mistake this for an OTC record...a *great* OTC record! From 1973, it is an outstanding if bizarre psychedelic album with spartanly bleak arrangements for acoustic guitar and hauntingly Donovanesque vocal melodies, injected with trippy sonic squiggles and snippets from 70s newscasts to paint a disillusioned picture of the failure of 60s ideologies. Mesmerisingly beautiful and faithfully reissued from the original masters. Recommended!!
