When we first heard this in the store, Harry was upfront manning the stereo, and we were actually convinced he was spinning some old glam rock record, so we were pretty surprised to discover it was actually Mary Timony from Helium's new band (named after a solo album of hers from a while back), and as much as we love(d) Helium, we never would have expected Timony to make a record that sounds so much like The Sweet. But she did, and it's awesome! At this point, we imagine most reviews will riff on the record title, but how can you resist, this record rips for sure, the sound super retro, but somehow modern and supercharged, the guitars fuzzy and reverbed, the songs swaggery and glammy, power pop stomps overflowing with crazy catchy hooks and amazing guitar melodies, and Timony's vocals seal the deal, the whole package sounding like some obscure seventies glam pop combo. We're immediately reminded of Matthew Melton's Bare Wires - Melton and Timony are most definitely kindred sonic souls, both mining a similar vein of retro psych/garage/glam rock, and both nailing it. We definitely hear hints of Timony's ex-Autoclave bandmate Christina Billotte's nineties indie rock outfits Slant 6 and Quix*o*tic too, and of course the Runaways. Really though, Timony has always been a master, with Helium, and solo too, but this might be our favorite record of hers since Helium's 1997 masterpiece The Magic City, but imagine that sound reworked and recast as something way more retro and glam poppy, and you'll get an idea of what this sounds like. A new unanimous store fave, and one that will likely end up on more than one year end top ten...
Guitarist Terrie Ex (of Dutch political avant rock band The Ex) follows up the collaboration with Han Bennink on "Laughing Owl", with another duo recording, this time making noise with saxophonist Ab Baars. Improv brutality, totally harsh and grating. Are you
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We've got just a *single copy* of this hard-to-find video documenting The Ex, stalwarts of the underground avant rock scene since they began in 1979 -- that's over 20 years ago! Contains lots of footage documenting their famously intense live shows, conversations with all of the band members, rehearsals, much insight into their view of punk as DIY way of living, which they apply in activities such as self-releasing records, etc. A nice glimpse into the world of a band that has inspired cultish devotion amongst many (including some here at AQ) not to mention Tortoise, Sonic Youth, Dutch avant jazz pioneer Han Bennink, Tom Cora, etc. 52 minutes. Color. Made by Swedish filmmakers, subtitled. First come...
The Ex, maybe the Netherlands' most famous punk export, return with a new record of their unique churning, sinewy brand of punk angularity, but with a sound even more subdued than their previous release on Touch & Go, "Starters Alternators". If you're looking for the fury and rage of The Ex, definitely look to their earlier works. Much like their fellow hardcore vets Fugazi and
With a career that has spanned three decades, The Ex have been stalwart antagonists from the far left, in fusing an uncompromising political agenda to a steady stylistic development of their own interpretation of punk. While their hometown of Amsterdam has long been associated with the left thanks to their liberal (and legal) attitudes towards drug use and prostitution, The Ex emerged as pissed off and utterly hostile towards mainstream Dutch culture as any band from far more puritanical lands. But like any punk band worth anything, The Ex began with little or no musical training, merely the desire to express their political dissent and make a hell of lot of noise doing it. This compilation of the singles they made through the '80s surveys their growth from an enegetic pogo punk band into a far more musically mature post-punk band with brittle-as-glass guitars, throbbing PiL / Killing Joke inspired basslines, and a willingness to take plenty of risks, as heard in the industrial rhythmic slab on "Rara Rap" and the clunky militant-folk number "Lied der Steinklopfer." The Ex have always been an amazing band, and sadly the politics are as prescient as they were two decades ago.
The latest recordings by The Ex have found their way onto Touch & Go. It should be noted that this is NOT a reissue of older material. Time has mellowed out the legendary punk agitators from Holland, yet they still deliver a powerful album of angular punk rage. A few tracks take on almost folk harmonics in their praise of the proletariat.
Some select words for this new release and the people who created it: Fervent and focused. Vital and valid. Now well into their third defiant decade (they did post-punk before it was post!), this band's potent message and razor-sharp musicianship will kick your ass around the block... twice. Yes indeed, Turn is the very welcome return of socio-political ensemble known as The Ex. Two solidly packed cds with no filler whatsoever. Awesome.
** MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT **
** MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT **
** MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT **
Okay, as always, that's just for the Mississippi obsessed out there, which we know, is a LOT of you, so you need not read further, just add one of these to your cart, and move on, but for the rest of us, please read on, we're so psyched to finally write up and list what is probably our favorite Ex record ever.
For Scrabbling At The Lock, Dutch aggro punks The Ex teamed up with NY cellist Tom Cora, a downtown scene veteran, who played with John Zorn and the usual suspects, and sadly passed away in 1998 at the age of 44.
The Ex, as much as we always wanted to dig them, were often a little to frantic and spiky for our tastes, a relentless barrage of bristly cacophony and tangled manic melodies, but somehow, teamed with Cora, the mix was magical, his fluid melodies, perfectly complimented the Ex's excesses, often taking a back seat, locking into propulsive laid back rhythms, and letting Cora's cello sing. It's been years since we've heard this (the cd now goes for crazy $$), but it sounds as amazing, as vibrant and emotional and dramatic as it ever did.
The Ex, for those who have not heard them, play a sort of wild punk rock gypsy folk, angular and sinewy, wild and free, very rhythmic, shouted vocals, intense percussion, one of the longest running DIY musical outfits still going, always pushing boundaries, most recently collaborating with Ethiopian musicians, bringing many of them to Europe to perform outside of Ethiopia for the first time ever. They have tons of records, and people love them, and we've definitely dug a few of them, but this is the one, it's magical and timeless and transcendent, super rocking, heavy, groovy, angular, but the sharpest edges, the ones that often poked us in the wrong way, are perfectly dulled by Cora's cello, often transforming the Ex's agit punk into something almost Klezmer. Some of our favorite include the gorgeous "Hidegen Fujnak a Szelek" a reinterpretation of a Hungarian folk song, with soaring female vocals perfectly complimenting the chugging percussive cello. And "State Of Shock" which is probably the heaviest track on the record, starting out all haunting and gypsy, before the band explodes in a squall of howling guitars, and pounding percussion, the cello anchoring the track letting the other instruments go wild.
So goddamn good. As powerful and emotional as ever. If you've resisted the Ex in the past, this might be the ONE Ex record you need, and it's of course an incredible tribute to the memory of Cora and his musical legacy.
From the liner notes: "Konkurrent invited Tortoise from Chicago to contribute some of their hypnotic, catchy instrumental pieces to our series. They gladly accepted and asked The Ex to join them. Both bands began from very different points when constructing songs. The Ex work with dynamics and tension building while Tortoise work at a more introspective and subdued level, adding layers and texture to their sound. Where they meet is in how they work with repetition and introduce very specific atmospheres into their songs." Recorded in Holland, this collaboration reveals much more of The Ex than of Tortoise. In faact, you may not even be aware of Tortoise's presence except for subtle hints here and there.
Wow, there's a surprisingly punchy new arrival making its presence felt on the Absolutely Kosher roster. They are retro-edged power popsters Ex-Boyfriends, and their debut album is a shot of adrenaline amid the predominantly wistful indie rock/pop (Sparrow, Dudley Corporation, Get Him Eat Him, Jim Yoshii Pile-Up) and gloomy fevered dramatics (Dead Science, Frog Eyes) of the label's recent releases. When we've played it in the store, Dear John has already drawn comparisons to Generation X, Misfits and more recent upstarts Maximo Park. As well, their male vocals teeter between Robert Smith and Andy Partridge. Sound good? Lots of snap in the drumming, not to mention some well placed handclaps keep the joint jumpin'.
Ex-Boyfriends' latest full length kicks off in full college rock fashion. Yeah, it's the infectiously hook laden kind that immediately gives you the warm nostalgic fuzzies for '90s indie bands like Tree People, Velocity Girl or Tsunami... but with Robert Smith style dour singing and post-punky edged guitar crunch! The first three songs on In With in particular have 'highschool movie soundtrack' written all over it, and you know that's a good thing in our books! A terrific spring-summer pop album!
A dense slab of mysterious druggy psych rock from Missoula Montana courtesy of the always reliable Siltbreeze. Some impossible mash up of Crazy Horse, the Dead C and No Neck Blues Band. The opening track is a lengthy damaged drum jam, with plenty of trash can lid clatter, a sprawling lo-fi free jazz noiserock spasm that quickly segues into some gorgeously lilting folk strum, wrapped in an ultra murky production, with deep warm vocals, hippy, druggy, spacey, classic sounding folk filtered though the cracked Siltbreeze lens, jangly guitars and tribal hand drums, all beneath a strangely traditional sounding pop song. Moments later, the band has transformed into a free noise rock beast, emitting a stream of plodding rock crumble, super distorted ambience dripping all over jagged guitars and growling grumbling murk.
Most of side 2 is taken up by a wild, slow burning Crazy Horse like jam, that eventually builds into an epic psych rock blow out, a dense cloud of pot smoke, noise rock and psychedelic skree.
Vinyl only and of course super limited!
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Is it even necessary to point out that Noise nerds and Free Jazz freaks tend to keep the sort of the same company? Probably not, but if it were, then we would just play you this record and say goodnight. Those of you who don't like jazz, don't get scared off! The sensibility coloring this record with that spirit is really just one of genuinely free improvisation, so don't expect Coltrane or anything like that, this is still largely a Noise affair. Ex-Cocaine starts off with a loose instrumental guitar piece, accompanied by various drum sounds. The second track follows a similar trajectory, with the addition of vocals. If Aztec Camera were a lo-fi art rock band, this is what it might sound like. Side two features none other than the prolific -- and soon to be extinct -- Yellow Swans. Yes, it's true, after 7 years or so of trying to destroy both your ears and your speakers, Gabriel Saloman and Pete Swanson are calling it quits. They're not exactly going to disappear though, just saying goodbye to the Swans and starting some new things. If you saw our last list, then you probably noticed Mr. Saloman's collaborative effort with Aja Rose of In Flux. As for Pete Swanson, he's got a new label called Freedom to Spend -- check our review of it's first release, the album "Light Ships" by Axolotl off-shoot Bulbs. Okay, you're all caught up, now: the second side of the record. From mindfuck analog meltdown to blissful psych incantations, YS have certainly changed over the years, and, perhaps for the best, their final days have drifted into a more melodic, psychedelic direction. This track could not possibly better demonstrate that trend. In fact, if you didn't know who this actually was, it would be pretty dang impressive if you could guess. Meandering guitars, buried vocals, and a final showdown that dissolves into beautiful sheets of noise. Recommended!
Even though Ex-Cult (formerly Sex Cult) hail from Memphis, the sound of their debut owes the Bay Area big time. Not only is it produced by SF garage pop wunderkind and repeat aQ Record Of The Weeker Ty Segall, sonically, it definitely sounds like these guys were born from the same fertile fields that gave us lots of favorites, Thee Oh Sees, Blasted Canyons, Bare Wires, The Mallard, Mikal Cronin. Sure the sound is a bit more raw and urgent, and a bit punkier, but then these guys did actually start out as a proper punk band. But with a clutch of new songs, and Segall behind the mixing board, their sound has transformed into something distinctly garagey poppy, urgent and swaggery, definitely Stooges-y (but then really what garage rock isn't), but without losing any punk energy. Close listening reveals lots of stuff that will sound familiar to the SF scene, and Segall in particular, check out the back up vox on "Don't Feel Anything" for instance, but Ex-Cult definitely channel classic punk into their garage pop sound, we hear lots of old SST, even some Orange County HC, but deftly woven into some crazy catchy jams, that have been sticking in our heads like crazy, and getting tons of play around aQ.
Yet one more time, let's hear it for Japan! Always pushing things (anything! everything!) to the next level of absurdity and wonder. The highly animated, outstandingly costumed Chihiro, Fuzuki and Kirilo return to take us on another bizarre musical
More pop-tastic, bombastic, triple-threat vocal mania from Ex-Girl, three hot and insane Japanese women whose band rocks hard and weird and is tough not to like, especially if you're a bit of a Japanophile. Ex-Girl is nothing if not exceedingly over the top, more concerned about being fun and kicking ass than being avant-garde, although they can't help it, especially with cross-dressing keyboard whiz Hoppy Kamiyama as their producer/arranger/main composer. A song you thought was gonna be an overdose of operatic artiness will turn out to be the Hello Kitty version of rap-metal or something. And it's good. Imagine, if you can, a cross between Hundred Sights of Koenji and Faith No More or No Doubt, and a few random techno/electronica DJ cds... Crunching guitars, pounding drums, wild synths, and zany fx abound, with numerous pop hooks taken to the heights of these ladies' impressive vocal capabilities. Dizzying and delightful, loud and lovely. Deserving of their cult following and due for some major commercial success someday we hope! (Not likely in this country, but who knows maybe they're huge in Japan now.)
This is one grim throng indeed (not thong!). No long songs, no fucked up weirdness, no insane vocals, no retarded riffage, as much as we love all that stuff, we also love intense blasts of frenzied blackened fury. Blast beats so fast they sound like drum rolls, riffing so buzzy and intense it almost sounds like white noise. Vocals buried in the mix, just another layer of buzz and hum, short sharp bursts of super intense blackness. Grim. True. Kvlt. That's what you get with the grim throng that is Exalted. A relentless barrage of brutal thrashing old school raw black metal.
But just because it's not outwardly weird, doesn't mean there isn't strange stuff going under beneath the surface. Plenty of convoluted arrangements, angular atonal riffage, super dynamic arrangements, strange stretches of blown out ambience, where just the blast beat stutters beneath streaks off feedback, there's even some cowbell in there if you listen close. But if you're looking for ultra weird or fucked up this is probably not for you. On the other hand, if you like it raw and black and heavy, and are looking for something old school but a little twisted, Exalted are just interesting and off kilter enough to keep this from being just another batch of retro black thrash, instead offering up a roiling black mass of sound and fury, that we've been listening to like crazy since it first came in!
For the last several years Excepter have been creating super fucked up, seriously pleasurable waves on outsider dancefloors everywhere, with an onslaught of ep's, 12"s, and split releases. Now it's finally time for their debut full length, and it does not disappoint! Herky-jerky rhythms, beat up electronics, drugged out rumblings, late night salvation. The album really does work like a full record should. The first half has some almost catchy pop moments (this is all relative of course) including quite possibly their most infectious song to date "Rock Stepper", while the second half of the album features longer tracks that melt and burst with the unique flavor we've come to love from these guys. They seem to be taking some of the more melodic moments of Throbbing Gristle's legacy (a friend even suggested one might throw one of these songs on a mix right next to TG's "Hot On The Heels Of Love!") Excepter makes sounds that are the perfect conglomeration of the now and hip with a eyes toward the future and a knowing nod to the past. And while their music sounds nothing like Ariel Pink, we can totally imagine the sort of craziness that might result if those wonderfully warped melody makers got together. Since they both approach music making from a damaged and drugged out, Technicolor drenched angle unlike almost any other bands we've heard. Until then, we'll just be content to soak up this super kick ass full length.
Haunted and humorous, Excepter's Debt Dept. opens with a Sabbath like riff, looped and fuzzed to create the platform for the vocals of not 1, nor 2, but 3 vocalists' unhinged ramblings.
Excepter's cast flood the track with faithless and caustically delivered lyrics, half sung, half spoken. The effect is oddly chilling, considering the tone is ultimately that of Excepter's tried and true mix of futurist-dub, narcotic fuzz and drone, and mellow yet schizophrenic vocals; a pastiche sometimes too dynamic, ridiculous, or slapdash to take "seriously." Nonetheless, on Debt Dept., Excepter's sardonic wit and notedly more focused approach gives them a winning hand. Their most recent efforts have been less oriented towards vocals and lyrics, but the addition of two new vocalists, Clare Amory and Lala Harrison, has changed that. The vocals by committee approach is made a dominant fixture through the diverse array of effects their digressions are filtered through. The rhythmic collision course is more spacious than previous efforts giving time for grooves to develop, and even a few hooks to set in. Beyond the half-sung/postpunk/almost-rap like vocal delivery, there are also spectral vocal interludes, resulting in blanketed and billowing textures that soften the harsh and incisive beats and guttural, expulsive, and erotic moaning.
Those who love Excepter will find themselves well satisfied with Dept Debt., as it embellishes and improves upon their developing style of droney, dubby eclecticism. On this, their full length Paw Tracks debut, the band offers a near staggering swirl of most of the styles and sounds the label already offers, with heavy ladle-fulls of Black Dice, Rings, and Ariel Pink added to the already potent brew. Lest this hint at a lack originality, it must be stressed that the way in which the band incorporates and stirs these qualities is wholly original. Rhythmically, the album is a little tighter and more committed than previous efforts, with a greater apprenticeship to hip hop and dub, and some wacked notion of post-industrial dance. It could work well as the soundtrack to some alchemists in a satellite factory processing dark matter into... well... dark pop. Or perhaps like watching a disco ball shatter in slow motion, its shards reflecting a disparate collection of cultural references as they fly past you. Whichever the more operative metaphor, the band has invited you lovingly to their fucked-up, post-everything party, and if we were you, we'd be joining them in the festivities.
Really? Carter Tutti and Foetus remixing Excepter? Yup, that's what you'll get on this 12" from the newly birthed Frkwys imprint (read Freakways as a play on Folkways). Carter Tutti (the re-named duo for Chris Carter and Cosey Fanni Tutti, then and now of Throbbing Gristle fame) have tightened up the jammy industrial wanderings of Excepter's "Shors Ring" (from the Debt Dept. album) within their own rhythmicist precision that recalls some of the best work they've ever produced over the past 30 years (e.g. Heartbeat, Synaesthesia, The Space Between, etc.). Mr. Foetus twists Excepter's "Stretch" (also from Debt Dept.) into one of his manic marches of bombastic drum corps rhythms and huge melodic crescendos certainly not dissimilar from his twisted anthems of old. It's hard to hear much of the Excepter sounds within either track, but the productions from both remixing agents are so strong that it really doesn't matter.
Another No Neck Blues Band offshoot, this time spearheaded by ex-NNBB yokel John Fell Ryan, and this time, gone are those clattery, free-folk hippy drum circle jams, and in their place, throbbing, haunting, gothic soundscapes of sequenced drones and haunting vocals, muted pulsing grooves, like Can jamming at the bottom of a pool, noisy programmed beats under fuzzed out static and bleeping synths, and dreamy ethereal soundscapes. Unexpected and really nice!
Both Excepter 12"s finally on cd. Excepter is yet another No Neck Blues Band offshoot, this time spearheaded by ex-NNBB yokel John Fell Ryan, and this time, gone are those clattery, free-folk hippy drum circle jams, and in their place is some bizarre reverb drenched space dub, complete with throbbing, gothic soundscapes, sequenced drones, muted pulsing grooves, dubbed out drums, noisy programmed beats under fuzzed out static and bleeping synths, dreamy ethereal atmospheres and ghostly moaning vocals. Sort of like Can jamming at the bottom of an abandoned swimming pool recorded onto beat up cassettes that have been in the glovebox of your car for years, or maybe King Tubby manning the desk for a VERY STONED Sunburned Hand jam session. This is a gorgeously muddy, beautifully murky head on collision between krautrock propulsion, druggy dream dub, and damaged experimetal weirdness. Pretty fucking great.
More tripped out explorations from Excepter.
According to the band, "this is a house record". If it is, then raves must be way more scary and fucked up than I ever imagined. We've been digging Excepter's freeform avant space dub weirdness for a while now, and as much as the band would like to claim that this is a dance record, it's just as damaged and out there sounding as their last two full lengths. Throbbing synths, haunting reverbed vocals, warm warbly bass lines, creepy ghostly ambience, squiggly synths and all manner of bleeps and bloops. Muted mumbling vocalisations drift through pusling dronescapes until toward the end of the record, skittery drum machines spew spastic rhythms, pushing Self Destruction about as far dance-ward as it's gonna get, and even then, it's way to druggy and psychedelic to be dance music for anything but a wasted and stumbling, blood soaked, moonlit, satanic sacrifice, pagan ritual dance party. Which when you put it that way...
According to the band, "this is a house record". If it is, then raves must be way more scary and fucked up than I ever imagined. We've been digging Excepter's freeform avant space dub weirdness for a while now, and as much as the band would like to claim that this is a dance record, it's just as damaged and out there sounding as their last two full lengths. Throbbing synths, haunting reverbed vocals, warm warbly bass lines, creepy ghostly ambience, squiggly synths and all manner of bleeps and bloops. Muted mumbling vocalisations drift through pusling dronescapes until toward the end of the record, skittery drum machines spew spastic rhythms, pushing Self Destruction about as far dance-ward as it's gonna get, and even then, it's way to druggy and psychedelic to be dance music for anything but a wasted and stumbling, blood soaked, moonlit, satanic sacrifice, pagan ritual dance party. Which when you put it that way...
Streams 01 -- a newish double disc release from Excepter -- proves once again that New York has a near monopoly on almost-danceable, not-danceable dance music. Think Gang Gang Dance and Black Dice, too. While Streams isn't a radical departure from previous work, it does a great job of showcasing Excepter's free-something Kraut ramblings, drenched in dub and distortion. The reason that it literally is not a departure is that the two discs constitute a fractional archive of the group's work over a four-year period. Some live performances, some jams, and some other stuff. The world need bands and releases like this, ones that make psychedelic drugs seem almost obsolete, as time and space collide into a beautiful trainwreck clusterfuck of beeps, bleeps, yelps, and crunches. We're reminded of the title of a book put together by AQ employee Scott, "Good Times, Bad Trips."
Apparently recorded in one hour on a hot summer's day this new Excepter ep finds them with a slightly different lineup and in fine fucked up form. Sun soaked and dripping with melting casios, warped vocals and all sorts of effects they got hidden up their tricky sleeves. The last ep found them channeling the ghost of Third Eye Foundation while this time out it's a little less twisted dark dub and a little more twisted kaleidoscope of sounds. There's the inclusion of vocals on a few tracks that we're not sure how we feel about, but when the vocals fade away on tracks like "Dawn Patrol" it's fucked up and blissed out electronic tinged noise at its best. Excepter have this way of walking a fine line between half assed and totally off the cuff (they say they recorded this in one hour) and totally brilliant but when they hit their mark they hit is soooo hard that we keep coming back for more and more.
Second full length from these NY abstract free-rock, free-folk, free-whatever weirdos. Featuring ex No Neck Blues Bander John Fell Ryan, Excepter take the abstractions of the NNBB even further out. Way more abstract, way more blissed out, way more dreamy and ethereal. No clattery drum circle rhythms or pagan ritual folk, no this is drifting and deliriously unmoored. Female vocals hover ghost like over slowly rolling waves of electronic sound. Drones that pulse and weave and slither but mostly just drift. Outer space swooshes and simple percussive splashes demarcate the wide open expanses of each song. Like Hawkwind's space rock with all the rock removed, and in its place, even MORE space, as well as hushed and whispered vocals, shuffling electronic skitters, woozy distant melodies and lots of rumbling weirdness and whooshing swirl. Like the spirit of Can or Faust, a ghostly shimmer of krautrock, rhythmic and propulsive but with all the flesh pulled off, so the sounds are gauzy and barely there, a flicker of rhythmic urgency, now just a gorgeously ghostly amble.
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SORRY.No offense to Excepter but man oh man Panda Bear steals the show on this split 12"! Best known as one of the members of the Animal Collective and one half of Jane we got to say we think we are most in love with Noah Lennox in his Panda Bear existence. Acid soaked Beach Boys harmonies tweaked to utter perfection! If his side of this split is any indication of how great his new album is gonna be then wow we are excited! Excepter's side is more of their really good take on murky analog electronics gone no-wave.
Thick, oppressive electronic thud and glitch that doesn't let up for 76 minutes. Abrasive, metallic, repetitive and bass heavy, like a meeting between Digital Hardcore's Panacea and Schematic Records' IDM duo Phoenecia. There's a lot of this kind of music around these days. Some of it is being executed extraordinarily well (example: the aforementioned Phoenecia), some of it much less so. Exclipsect does excel in molding and sculpting his textures and beats, but there's not really much to distinguish it from the rest. If this cd had come out a few years ago, it might be a different story. That's not the case however, so... another way to look at it would be: if you're looking to simply expand the heavier end of your IDM library, this surely won't let you down.
Some terrific pop from right here in SF! Featuring members formally of Blue Gum Art and Aerosal Species, Excuses For Skipping hit the ground running on their debut album Out Of Work Early. Their tunes balance an energetic punchiness and a breezy wistfulness. Their emotive vocals are sweet but not sugary. Actually they remind us quite a bit of some old faves Velocity Girl, Hazel, Metric, and the early poppiness of the Bay Area's Tartufi too (as opposed to their more proggy leanings). We also sense some of the soft, dreamy inspiration of Stereolab and Sarah Records. Really infectiously good!
A collection of electronic tracks culled from various 12"s from the man behind Accelera Deck, Chris Jeely. Features two remixes by James (Dntel / Figurine) and David (Figurine). For fans of Darla-esque electronica fluff. On the eclectic Blackbean and Placenta label.
Only the second album from this Godspeed You Black Emperor side project who've been around in some shape or form since the mid-'90s. Perhaps darker and more morosely droning than their self-titled debut. Layers of bass drones slowly shift, swell and dissipate. Occasional sparse rhythms flutter in and out along with strange electronic squidge'n'sputter that at times quite resembles ominous voices. No flippancy intended, but I really thought this would make a great haunted house soundtrack - oh so very sinister and gloomful.
Previously a vinyl-only release, now on cd. The side project of one of the drummers of Montreal post-rock/hippie sensations Godspeed You Black Emperor! Exhaust excels at surrounding the sparse yet propulsive cracks of their live breakbeats with thick brooding atmospheres. Another worthy addition to the constellation of, um, Constellation label stars (GSYBE, Do Make Say Think, A Silver Mt. Zion, Fly Pan Am).
Latest from these local death/thrash favorites, one of the Bay Area's current big time underground metal exports. Gory Carcass-lovin' metal as you'd expect. Divebomb guitars, teeth-gnashing drums, it's the sort of stuff headbangers and hairtwirlers can't help but like. Nothing new, nothing surprising, but fast and furious and executed to perfection.
Second, and even better, album from these Bay Area Carcass-worshippers. Gory death metal done the old school-way. Nothing novel, but very well done.
Batten down the hatches, this is some seriously loud n' dense n' noisy Japanese "jazz" music. Jazz? Well not if your idea of jazz doesn't include massive grinding drones. This is free improvised mayhem, cavernous and chaotic, with LOTS of electronics, feedback, amplified electric guitar distortion. Howling effects, cymbal splashes, freakout guitar squall, pounding toms... Beautiful, especially if you're into stuff like Ascension, Borbetomagus, Dislocation, Rudolph Grey's Blue Humans and other examples of extreme electric freedom music. But there's no saxes here, so this might be even more accessible to more rock-oriented types out there. It's guitars and electronics, drums, synth and computer processing, with some piano that you can hear in the few moments of respite -- the five long tracks here do feature a few ominous calms betwixt the storms, quiet passages beautiful in their own right. Abstract and freeform, yet structured in such a way that this is definitely music, not noise, despite how noisy it gets. Very intriguing, moreso when you try to decipher the liner notes (which are presented in an English translation from the Japanese, but remain rather opaque and poetic). One thing they do explain is that this group's strange name is actually short for their full title: the Experimental Improvisers Assocation Of Japan! Some kind of loose collective of musicans and aesthetes (jazz, classical, film, philosophy, etc. we're told!) formed in 1999 by guitarist Hideaki Kondo. Apparently, they have a bunch of cds, some acoustic, some electric, out on their own label Bishop Records that we've never ever seen -- but we'll have to try to hunt them down on the strength of this PSF release, which sees their "electric conception" at full force, live in Yokohama, 2002. Leave it to PSF, home to Keiji Haino's Fushitsusha and those great archival recordings from Masayuki Takayanagi's New Direction Unit, to clue us in to these guys.
PSF provides a second installment of freeform electric mayhem from Tokyo's six-member avant-jazz ensemble Exias-J, this time recorded live during a visit to New York in 2003. Still recommended for those into the extremes of noisy improvised music like Borebetomagus and the Blue Humans. But, as before, don't worry if you're not into saxophones -- there's none of 'em here, just guitars, synths, piano, electronics, contrabass, computers, and drums. Dynamic (quiet...and loud!) and droning and abstract and limitless. Exias-J could perhaps be considered the collective spiritual heirs to the the late great Japanese free improvising master Masayuki Takayanagi...
It's usually the case that improvised music is best experienced live. It's usually made live after all. Seeing as well as hearing the interactions of the improvising musicians often adds a lot to the experience. A live cd or lp of an improv session can be great, but it's not the same as being there in the moment as the music was happening. Next best thing to being there? A live audio-visual document. Anyone into the extreme sounds of Japanese electronics and jazz improv outfit Exias-J is thus in for a treat with this release, a DVD on the PSF label presenting live footage from three shows, two in Tokyo and one at the Tonic (R.I.P.) in NYC.
Exias-J head honcho, guitarist Hideaki Kondo, explains that in addition to the usual free improv process, these performances find his group experimenting with more conceptual, structured forms and restrictions, minimalism, sonatas, compositional stuff like that. Whatever their methods, though, they kick up a heck of a ruckus, featuring guitars, computers, analog synth, piano, live electronics, cello, contrabass, drums and percussion.
142 minutes, region free, NTSC.
The skronk-improv trio of Jon Rose (violin), Peril's Tony Buck (drums), and Joe Williamson (electric and acoustic bass).
