[ aquarius records catalogue

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Showing results 1301 through 1350 of 1549.

Finally both extremely limited and way out of print lps, that came and went in a flash last year, have been reissued together on a not-as-limited double cd set via Kranky! We've gushed and gushed about Grouper so much in the past, and we're going to do it once again because these albums are utterly gorgeous! While 2008's Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill found Liz Harris, aka Grouper, starting to really embrace the idea of songs, we love how these cds, Alien Observer and Dream Loss (framed together by the personally symbolic pictographic title, "A I A") blur that focus once again. While one leans towards songs and structure, and the other towards more abstraction, they are pretty much equal companion pieces that mirror each other, and share similar tendencies that defy a defined experience (especially since it seems we discovered by the track listing that the cd labels are switched, making it even harder to pin down which one is which, but it's really no matter!). They're much more about mood, soft focus, hazy dreams, and ethereal exploration. Harris' voice a murmur built up through tape and Dictaphone loops like soft whispering leaves swirling in and out, and every sound and tone, whether it be acoustic guitar strums, far-off distorted delayed electronics, piano, bell tones or static, she uses and manipulates them with such a mastered ease. There's a hushed reverence to this suite that demands rapturous attention to Harris' cathedral like sound world, as if we were in some universal congregation listening to an angelic choir singing from the deepest remote space. We've been listening to these records late at night and early in the morning and whenever we need to come down from the craziness of the world around us. And smehow whenever we listen to them, everything else just fades away and for a little while all that matters is the soft narcotic rush we feel as the music plays.

MPEG stream: Dragging The Streets
MPEG stream: Soul Eraser
MPEG stream: A Lie
MPEG stream: Moon is Sharp
MPEG stream: Vapor Trails

Just as ghostly and mystical as her music is, so is the availability of Grouper's records. One moment they're here, but before you can even blink they're out of print. Lately Liz Harris (Grouper) has been releasing her own recordings, but not pressing that many of them when she does. We know she doesn't do so out of a desire to keep things 'limited' but instead it's her humble nature which tends to keep her scope small, even when the truth is there are thousands of people across the globe who have become huge fans of her dreamlike sounds. The first pressing of these two new Grouper lp's "A I A: Alien Observer" and "A I A: Dream Loss" went out of print so quickly we weren't even able to review them. The thing about these small pressings that bother us is that the only folks really winning, are the eBay speculators selling copies for ridiculous amounts, none of that money ends up in Grouper's hands. So we do hope that in the future she (and the labels she works with) will start pressing more copies as she is the one who deserves to reap the reward of her beautiful creation. OK, now that our rant is out of the way, we should let you know that although this is a repressing we're not sure how many, if any, more of these we're going to be able to get. What we got, So before we start going on and on about the music you probably should just add this to your cart asap to better your chances of actually ending up with these. Now on to what really matters - the music on these records. We've gushed and gushed about Grouper so much in the past, and we're going to do it once again because these lp's are utterly gorgeous! While Dragging A Dead Dear, found her starting to really embrace the idea of songs, we love how these lp's blur that focus once again. They're much more about mood, soft focus, hazy dreams, and ethereal exploration. Her voice swirling in and out, and every sound and tone she uses and manipulates with such a mastered ease. We've been listening to these records late at night and early in the morning and whenever we need to come down from the craziness of the world around us. Somehow whenever we play these lp's, everything else just fades away and for a little while all that matters is the soft narcotic rush we feel as the records spin. We can't imagine only getting one of these, as they really do work as companion pieces. Totally beautiful! And sadly, AGAIN, EXTREMELY LIMITED!!!!

Finally available on cd! It doesn't really seem possible that the music of Grouper could get any more beautiful, any more majestic and epic, or any more mysterious and dreamlike. No, but what it can do is change, and grow, expand, and subtly alter its shape and timbre, it's coloring and shading, which is what it has been doing, on every single outing, but never so much as on Cover The Windows And Walls. The core of Grouper's sound remains unchanged, dense bleary eyed fields of druggy reverb, thick swirls of blurred vocals, smeared into indistinct melodies, all abstract and shimmery, soft focus and billowy, the musical version of those soft fuzzy grey clouds that fill the sky at twilight. It's still an impossible blend of Arvo Part, Morton Feldman and Skullflower, but the new record sounds a little bit more, well, folky maybe, or perhaps slightly less tripped out. A lot of it has to do with the vocals, which have attained an until now unheard of clarity. Which in no way means you can actually hear the vocals, they are still another gauzy layer in Grouper's blown out soundscape, but, sometimes, they -are- a bit clearer, you can actually pick out words here and there, sometimes even whole lines. Before, if we hadn't been told, we wouldn't necessarily have even known that the main element of Grouper's sound was in fact vocals. They were that indistinct and that drenched in FX. But here, it actually sounds like a singer, singing songs, but just barely, it's almost like listening to some super lonesome stripped down folk, recorded onto a wax cylinder, and then broadcast through a huge speaker mounted at the very bottom of an elaborate cave system, the songs careening back and forth and picking up more and more reverb and echo with every bounce, until they become this blissed out beautiful blur. Thick buzzing single guitar notes spread out into wavery fields of murky muted twang, which wrap themselves serpent like around the equally disembodied vocals. Imagine a field recording of ghosts performing ancient folk songs, a whispery thrum, so barely audible, that it's nearly impossible to capture, but once it is, and the sound is turned up enough to be audible to the human ear, it becomes this gorgeously distorted smear of sound. What else can we say about Liz Harris and her Grouper project? We've hardly heard anything this beautiful and mysterious ever. EVER! Absolutely and emphatically recommended.

MPEG stream: Cover The Windows And Walls
MPEG stream: Opened Space
MPEG stream: Down To The Ocean

It doesn't really seem possible that the music of Grouper could get any more beautiful, any more majestic and epic, or any more mysterious and dreamlike. No, but what it can do is change, and grow, expand, and subtly alter its shape and timbre, it's coloring and shading, which is what it has been doing, on every single outing, but never so much as on Cover The Windows And Walls. The core of Grouper's sound remains unchanged, dense bleary eyed fields of druggy reverb, thick swirls of blurred vocals, smeared into indistinct melodies, all abstract and shimmery, soft focus and billowy, the musical version of those soft fuzzy grey clouds that fill the sky at twilight. It's still an impossible blend of Arvo Part, Morton Feldman and Skullfower, but the new record sounds a little bit more, well, folky maybe, or perhaps slightly less tripped out. A lot of it has to do with the vocals, which have attained an until now unheard of clarity. Which in no way means you can actually hear the vocals, they are still another gauzy layer in Grouper's blown out soundscape, but, sometimes, they -are- a bit clearer, you can actually pick out words here and there, sometimes even whole lines. Before, if we hadn't been told, we wouldn't necessarily have even known that the main element of Grouper's sound was in fact vocals. They were that indistinct and that drenched in FX. But here, it actually sounds like a singer, singing songs, but just barely, it's almost like listening to some super lonesome stripped down folk, recorded onto a wax cylinder, and then broadcast through a huge speaker mounted at the very bottom of an elaborate cave system, the songs careening back and forth and picking up more and more reverb and echo with every bounce, until they become this blissed out beautiful blur. Thick buzzing single guitar notes spread out into wavery fields of murky muted twang, which wrap themselves serpent like around the equally disembodied vocals. Imagine a field recording of ghosts performing ancient folk songs, a whispery thrum, so barely audible, that it's nearly impossible to capture, but once it is, and the sound is turned up enough to be audible to the human ear, it becomes this gorgeously distorted smear of sound. What else can we say about Liz Harris and her Grouper project? We've hardly heard anything this beautiful and mysterious ever. EVER! Absolutely and emphatically recommended. Limited to 300 copies! We got 30 copies, and once these are gone, it will be gone forever.

MPEG stream: Cover The Windows And Walls
MPEG stream: Opened Space
MPEG stream: Down To The Ocean

The THIRD repress of this exquisite album on vinyl. If you missed it the last two times, don't expect this one to last any longer! The only difference is the black & white artwork, but the musical content is the same. Here's what we said way back when... Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill opens with an entirely characteristic yet coy swell of effected elemental smear, crumbling delicately yet forcefully, until giving way to what is, to date, and here is the coy part, Liz Harris' most songwriterly and structured album. As opposed to the rich swaths of drone that up until now defined her sound, Harris has shifted from the abstract towards a more distinct and figurative sound. True to the title, the record unfolds like a sort of mysterious and morbid fairytale, innocent in its clear and elegant melodies, yet creepy and highly abstract in its more droney and sublime interludes. For the most part, her guitar playing is laid bare, removed from the dense fog of effects that typically occlude them. And what we discover is actually a pretty strummy record, with plenty of clean guitar articulation though certainly the aroma of her previous tech heavy approach remains in what is relatively speaking still pretty effected. At times she even reverts back to the gorgeous icey crunchy string attack of some previous efforts. With so much space liberated in the absence of drones, we also get to hear her stunning voice. Furthermore, the occasional audible lyric creeps to the surface, one standout fragment being "Love Is Enormous," a somewhat shockingly affirmative sentiment from an otherwise darkly mysterious and abstract persona. From start to finish Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill lulls you into its graceful murmurings and hypnotic thrumming. An exquisite addition to an already compelling discography. Recommended.

MPEG stream: Disengaged
MPEG stream: Heavy Water/ I'd Rather Be Sleeping

We were totally gaga for Grouper's Way Their Crept cd from last year. So much so we made it Record of the Week. A more aQ record we couldn't have imagined, a gloriously thick and fuzzy swirl, equal parts Arvo Part, Morton Feldman, Skullfower and all manner of drift and drone. Dense smears of processed vocals and mubled guitars, all so heavily affected they became indistinct blurs, drifting fuzzy drones. We've been anxiously awaiting more, and were thrilled to discover this new 3" cd-r on the Yellow Swans' Jyrk label. The good news is that it takes everything we loved about Way Their Crept and made it more, daker, denser, thicker, prettier. The bad news is it was limited to 130 copies of which we only managed to get 20. And the rest are sold out, so after these are gone we won't be getting any more. He Knows is very short, three songs, ten minutes. But what it lacks in lenght, it makes up for in depth. The first track could of come straight off of Way Their Crept. Disembodied vocals hover and drift, guitars (are they guitars?) rumble and murmur and shimmer and hover, not so much an instrument as some sort of musical spirit. The vocals, the guitars, the sounds Grouper produce are like wraiths, floating like whisps of smoke, drifting in and around and through each other, a thick cloudy soundscape, warm and enveloping, pusling and reverberating, an indistnict blur, lovely but ineffable. The second track is like chamber music recorded at the bottom of the sea, listening to it after it has bubblrd up to the surface, warm and warbly and murky and so lovely. Melodies are nothing but streaks of barely there sound, like sunbeams filtered through the prism of swirling seawater. The final track sounds like a hymn, but muffled and indistinct. Imagine laying in a field outside a smalll stone chapel, blankets wrapped tight around your head to stave off the cold, the warm sounds of the church drift across the icy ground, the sounds barely making it through your wool shroud and into your ears, but what does make it, sounds warm and safe and beautiful. So good. Limited to 130 copies and already OUT OF PRINT! We have the last 20, once these are gone they are GONE!

MPEG stream: One

This one definitely doesn't need much of a review, it's a super limited tour single from Liz Harris, aka Grouper, it features two brand new and EXCLUSIVE tracks, it's lovely and ethereal and spacey and dreamy (of course), it's already sold out and out of print, and we got less than 10 copies, and will NOT ever be able to get more. Odds are you don't need much of a description, fans will definitely want this, even with the steep price tag, but rest assured, it's another fantastic collection of hazy guitar swirl, lush atmospheric shimmer, disembodied reverbed vocal coo, shoegazey sonic swirl, a little bit of extra buzz and distortion all but obscuring the fragile vox on the second, track, but for the most part it's all gauzy and ethereal and ephemeral and abstract and hauntingly gorgeous, and for Grouper obsessives, most likely essential. Too bad we got so few... Housed in nice thick covers with super striking black and white artwork, includes a Xeroxed insert with a download code too.

Piano and voice. That's what we encounter in the latest incantation from Liz Harris, once again recording as Grouper. Chillingly beautiful smears from dankly shoegazing guitars, loop-station electronics, mumbled vocals, and a near constant wash of stoned introspection were the common elements of those albums of hers that captured our imagination like Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill and AIA: Dream Loss. She's eschewed pretty much all of the gauzy blur and the narcotic diffusion that runs through all of her previous albums; but the delicacy of these songs on Ruins and beguiling poetry of sadness makes this very much another fantastic Grouper album. Harris wrote all of the material for Ruins during a residency in Portugal back in 2011. There, she made full use of an upright piano, recording these songs onto a four-track with occasional overdubs, just for an additional layer voice here and there in order to harmonize with herself. Without all of the fuzz and drone, Harris' lyrics enjoy a bit more clarity, though she has long been one to slur the syllables into a cooing gasp of pitch-perfect intoxication. Her songs arpeggiate on simple piano chords evolving the minor key repetition into secretive, plaintive lullabies, slowly tapped out to match the torpor of her voice. The album is starkly naked in the emotional fragility of these arrangements, but Harris is very much in control of the poetics calmly painting her songs in a sonic palette of rainy-day blues and greys. It's much closer to the under appreciated Mirroring collaboration that hopefully wasn't just a one-off with Tiny Vipers' Jesy Fortino. Yes, another gem from the wintery soul of Liz Harris. Note: we're listing the Kranky cd and vinyl now, but we'll also soon have a handful of the special self-released vinyl edition direct from Liz, which includes a bonus cd of a thunderstorm field recording... if interested, please let us know now!

MPEG stream: Clearing
MPEG stream: Labyrinth
MPEG stream: Holding
MPEG stream: Made Of Air

Good news and bad news: Yay we got a few of the new Grouper 12"s for you all, BUT they were shipped to us with the records inside the sleeves and all of the copies we got have an inch long seam split on the side. Arggh! We won't be able to get more, but we are able to discount these a bit so we can sell them at $3 less than the normal asking price of $16.98. Sorry about that! Please don't order if you are overly anal about the condition of your record sleeves. Another mysterious missive from the ever elusive Grouper, this one even more mysterious since it is a one-sided fragment of a longer sprawling piece she has been performing live for the past couple of years, first at the Berkeley Art Museum, but also recently in such exotic locales as an abandoned polar bear enclosure at a Vancouver zoo. The vast space of the museum and zoo provided the opportunity to set up remote speakers throughout the space, so the sonic dimension of the multiple collaged tape loops of murked out guitar drones, pianos, built up vocals and other gorgeous hiss and noise could easily be manipulated spatially as the sound hovered in shimmering miasmas or pooled in delicate ripples of sound. The piece culminating in a swirling fading vortex of disintegration, like a beautiful drowning. Limited to 800 copies on white vinyl, we only have a few so act fast as they'll be gone before you know it!

Grouper's Liz Harris seems to be settling in comfortably on the Kranky label, with the release so far of the two AIA lps on cd for the first time, the debut from Mirrorring (Harris's duo project with Jesy Fortino from Tiny Vipers), and this "new" release, The Man Who Died In His Boat, which has come out in conjunction with a lp and cd reissue of her 2008 record Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill, an AQ favorite. The release/re-release of both records together is no coincidence as the tracks on The Man Who Died In His Boat were recorded during the same sessions as Dragging A Dead Deer, and the new record has a long lost twin feel that we haven't heard on subsequent Grouper records since then. While she still employs the waves of foggy reverb and layered far away voices, there is a reappearance of fully formed songs and a sheen of less-filtered clarity. Both records are informed by key childhood memories, this one by a discovery with her father of beached sailboat, and their speculation about the man who disappeared sailing it. The ocean roar, swelling waves of reverbed sound, and the far away sadness of acoustic sea shanties pour throughout the release creating a moving hypnotic spell which invariably holds us helpless in its grasp. Beautiful! Currently, we only have the cd version, but the vinyl versions of both this and the reissue of Dragging A Dead Deer are supposedly alredy being repressed.

MPEG stream: Vital
MPEG stream: Difference (Voices)
MPEG stream: The Man Who Died In His Boat
MPEG stream: Living Room

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Latest in Type Records' 7" singles series (past releases included Machinefabriek, Goldmund, Paavoharju, Benoit Piolard and Tarentel) comes from local vocal soundscaper Liz Harris, aka Grouper, and it's another beauty. Not sure if she just keeps getting better, or it's just that we love here records so much that every new one just reminds us why and how much we dig here deliriously dreamy sounds. The A side just might be the closest to a proper pop song Grouper has ever recorded, but it's still appropriately buried in soft murky fuzz, making the notes mushy and indistinct, her breathy vocals shimmering streaks of melody, the whole thing a warm, melancholy blur of soft pop abstraction. Absolutely stunning. In the time it's taken to review just the A side, we've listened to it three times in a row! In fact we would have gone for a fourth had we not moved on to the other side... If the A side is a glimpse of Grouper's perfect pop, then the B side is her torch song, a gorgeous moody ballad, and it's like the dense clouds of reverb have finally parted, revealing what lurked behind all that shimmer and buzz, delicate sensual vocals, drifting minor key piano, a stripped down late night dark nightclub on the edge of town sort of stormclouds and roaring fire, folk flecked ballad. Still a bit of reverb and delay, but they merely drift by, or hover in the background. Totally gorgeous.

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY.

Imagine Arvo Part if he was a punk rock woman from Oakland. Or imagine an ultra lo-fi Morton Feldman jamming with Matthew Bower of Skullflower, backed up by a ghostly choir. This is one of those records that is so perfectly aQuarius it sounds like it was composed and recorded just for us. And you. A perfect blend of warm textured ambience and thick corrosive drones, delicate melodies wrapped in a gorgeously crunchy gritty hissy production. The whole record is a ghostly shimmer, warm washes of otherworldly vibrations swirling in a thick morass of processed vocals, murky keyboards and guitars rendered so unguitarlike they more resemble warm wiggles of sound, like slinky's stretched as far as they will go, slightly vibrating, barely disturbing the air around them, small waves of sound like ripples in a pond building and building and piled atop one another until it's a massive, thick blanket of sound. Imagine the saddest slowest band you've ever heard playing at absolutely deafening volume, then imagine stuffing your ears full of cotton, and listening from behind a closed door, through a wall of mud and straw, warm wispy tendrils of sound creeping and crawling through the cracks, wrapping themselves in thick coils around your arms and legs, the whole room slowly filling with sound, until soon you're totally ensconced, submerged, surrounded by thick billows of slow shifting sound. Melodies become indistinct whispers stretched across minutes instead of seconds, guitars and keyboards become blissed out blurs, like floating weightless in a warm dark mysterious place made entirely of soft sound. Wow. Totally haunting and captivating.

MPEG stream: Way Their Crept
MPEG stream: Hold A Desert, Feel Its Hand
MPEG stream: Sang Their Way

We made the debut full length from this Bay Area one woman dream drone outfit Record of the Week a while back, and ever since, have been waiting patiently for another slab of her beautifully dense ghostlike soundscapes. Since then, it seems like any one with a microphone and a delay pedal has decided to make some atmospheric vocal based drone record. And while some of those have indeed been quite good, few can come close to the utter abstract beauty of Liz Harris and her Grouper project. When describing Grouper, the most mentioned comparisons seem to be Arvo Part and Morton Feldman, Part no doubt because of the vocal/choral aspect, and Feldman because this is definitely a sort of dreamlike minimalism, but Grouper is definitey something else entirely. A murky dreamworld of shimmering guitar and indistinct voices, swirling clouds of smeared melody, drifting whirls of warm thick delay, and dense layers of mumbly reverb. It's the sonic equivalent of wandering through some ghost town, almost everything obscured by thick fog, the streetlights, like distant lightning bugs, warm orange glows, staining the fog like a child's fingerpaints, even sound can barely travel so you exist sonically in a tiny muffled and muted cocoon, like listening to the world around you with ears full of wet cotton. Drifting disembodied vocals drenched in thick dubby FX are spread out paper thin into nearly transparent sheets of gauzy whir, like a chorale of ghosts, singing in some vast underground cavern. Within all of this murk and fog, lurk heartbreaking melodies, perfect little melancholy pop songs, but almost completely obscured from view, so instead of hearing songs, it's like barely remembering a little melody, or getting a tune stuck in your head only to have it fly away moments later, and struggling to remember just how that song went. A strangely emotional sonic trigger for lost memories, and indescribable landscapes, amorphous sounds, and a world both familar and completely alien. Unlike her freenoise / dronerock / whatever contemporaries, who are happy to just make a big loud sound, or push a few buttons and start a low rumbling drone, with Grouper, it's more like the songs started out as proper songs, verses, choruses, sweet little melodies, gentle lilting vocals, but those songs were left in a corner, and allowed to get dusty, then set outside where they leaned for weeks, propped up against the side of the house, getting rained on, dappled with morning dew, they began to rust, and decay, weeds grew up around them, small animals made nests in them. Eventually, they were collected, and placed in a dusty old wagon, where they spent the majority of the journey, getting bumped and jostled, pieces breaking off, bits smearing into other bits, becoming less and less obviously songs, and more like the decayed husks of songs, still beautiful, and lovely in their own way, but lonely, and forgotten, until one day, they were all gathered up and placed in order, dusted off, polished up until they glow with some dim inner light, and thus they become Wide, and we close our eyes and listen...

MPEG stream: Little Boat / Bone Dance (Audrey)
MPEG stream: Imposter In The Sky
MPEG stream: Agate Beach

Ahhh Grouper. The work of one woman named Liz, Grouper manage to push all of our musical buttons. Hazy and crackly, staticky and droney, blurry and smeary, drifty and so dreamy. All of our favorite parts of records by Phillip Jeck, Tim Hecker, William Basinski and other dreamdrone minded folks, all boiled down into their essence, abstract obfuscated sonic drift, sounds smeared into wide open stretches of shimmer and drone. This s/t cd-r preceeds the Way Their Crept cd we made Record of the Week last year, and while sonically similar, differs in a couple ways. One, the recording is much more lo-fi, which in other cases might be unfortunate, but in the case of Grouper, just adds a whole 'nother layer of grit and grime and murk. In addition to being more lo-fi, some of the tracks here are way heavier than anything else we've heard from her. Some tracks are REALLY heavy, channeling all of Grouper's fuzzy drones and murky soundscapes into huge rumbling wall of dronedirge guitar, the sort of din that would fit sungly right there alongside your SUNNO))), Earth and Corrupted. But those brutal squalls are in the minority, and even then, the heaviness quickly gives way to a beautifully tranquil aftermath, a hazy fuzzed out barely there drift. SUPER LIMITED. We have about 20 copies, and we're pretty sure once these are gone we won't be able to get more.

MPEG stream: Two
MPEG stream: Three

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Super limited split single from aQ beloved Grouper, and the new-to-us City Center. Grouper continues in her slow drift away from the lo-fi murk of early recordings into something distinctly more folky, with softly strummed acoustic guitars, and a gorgeous swirl of voices, overlapping harmonies, ethereal and almost choral sounding, the result, while still psychedelic and lo-fi, just might be the best sounding, and strangely enough, poppiest, track we've heard yet from Grouper! City Center fares just as well, offering up a hazy lo-fi murk-pop gem that leaves us definitely wanting more. Beach Boys style harmonies doused in effects and buried in buzz and girt, laced over woozy guitars and a mechanical looped rhythm, delay and reverb everywhere and all over everything, warped and underwater sounding, with some incredible hooks barely audible through the hazy fug wrapped around the whole track. Think John Maus, Ariel Pink, Kurt Vile, that same sort of otherworldly seventies radio station vibe, but even more psychedelic and pretty. AWESOME!

Repressed and back in stock! Here's our review from when we first listed the vinyl back in 2009: As we mentioned in the original review of the long out of print cassette version, Inca Ore and Grouper are two of the few females currently kicking ass in the seriously dude oriented noise rock scene (Leslie Keffer and Valet are a couple others), and they approach their 'noise' with a distinctly different aesthetic, instead of walls of sound or sheets of distorted skree, the two focus on the sound of the human voice, their vocals cloaked in reverb and delay and echo, layering their blurred croons over swirling seas of smeared shimmery sound and delicate spidery guitars, wheezing organs and warm whirring buzz. Thankfully, together, the sound remains much the same, but blossoms a bit, two different, but complimentary voices, each with a knack for soft focus minor key melodies, each contributing their own particular style of washed out fractured folk, and the results are divine, fans of either band won't be disappointed, hushed and dreamlike soundscapes, dark, delicate cinematic ambience, gauzy and wispy, mysterious and haunting murky and muddy, a vast expanse of distant shimmery drones washing over abstract lo-fi song fragments and chunks of fragmented folks drifting in the abyss.

MPEG stream: Churpa Champurrado
MPEG stream: Baby Tiger, I Went Far Away
MPEG stream: Little Grey Cat
MPEG stream: Poison Tree

Originally released as a super limited cassette, which went out of print almost immediately. Then reissued as an almost as limited lp, which also disappeared in no time. So finally, this long sought after, constantly unavailable slab of gorgeous gauzy, folky dream drift, is available as an actual cd. Probably pretty limited too, but for now, we should have enough to last us a little while. You probably already know just from the two artists if you need this or not. New work from two of the few women kicking ass in the mostly male 'noise rock' scene. Both huge AQ faves, both who utilize voice and effects, in addition to the usual string-ed instruments to weave dreamlike soundscapes and delicate cinematic ambience. Both are in full effect here, each outfit offering up gauzy beauty and mysterious haunting murk, distant shimmery drones and abstract lo-fi song fragments. Gorgeous as always.

MPEG stream: Churpa Champurrado
MPEG stream: Baby Tiger, I Went Far Away
MPEG stream: Little Grey Cat
MPEG stream: Poison Tree

So this past spring Grouper and Pumice graced New Zealand with a small tour, and we were lucky enough to track down a few of the highly limited splits they brought along. Grouper's side is a hazy, dream-like offering of her Way Their Crept type drugged out drone-pop. And Pumice's side is not unlike the material on the recent Quo album. Both previously unreleased tracks for these bedroom pop heavyweights, limited to 500 copies, don't even think about missing out on this one!

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY.

Growing have been on quite the hot streak as of late with each of their recent releases hitting the spot and pleasing our ears BIG TIME, with their soaring, mesmerizing, cosmic psychedelia. They keep the streak alive with All The Way, which finds the Brooklyn duo at their stuttering, looped, repetitive and hypnotic best. Almost sounding like a more focused and chilled out version of Black Dice, All The Way finds Growing continuing to explore outer dimensions of sound with a krauty disposition and space on their side. We really like how they've come to understand duration as their songs and records last long enough to spellbind with their propulsive sounds yet never overstay their welcome ending almost before you would like, so you're always ready to jump inside their orbit again. Very nice!

MPEG stream: Green Flag
MPEG stream: Wrong Ride
MPEG stream: Reconstruction

It must be hard to find a sound, especially one that is based in drone and drift, and continue to constantly push the limits of that sound without drifting too far away from the elements which define your essence. Growing have managed to do just that, moving gracefully from drone drenched space rock to minimal rumble and whir, to wherever it is they are now, some musical netherworld, equal parts subtle shifting shimmer, grinding distorted dirge, and sparkling barely there ambience. No higher compliment can be paid than "how the hell do we describe these amazing sounds?!" And really, it seems that any cursory description could not possibly do justice to the amazing sonic world Growing have created. On Color Wheel, the drift and rumble and shimmer of the past few releases is still present, but stretched out even further, in even stranger directions, some, on first listen sound almost 'wrong', like the almost cheesy panpipe sounds of "Cumulusless", but within seconds some internal logic reveals those sounds to be sort of kind of perfect, in their own skewed way, and then they begin to blur and become a gorgeously murky melodic drift. Other songs are stretched even more dramatically, songs and parts are peppered with strange production techniques and unusually distorted glitches, jagged edits and completely unlikely sequencing. The opening track "Fancy Period" begins as a cool ambient whir, high end melodies swirling and drfiting ever skyward, before the drone sort of buckles, and those high end meldoies become distinct peals, each fluttering weightless above a shuffling fuzzy stuttering rhythm, almost like a skipping Sunroof! cd. Track two, "Friendly Confines", is actually the most 'unfriendly' of the bunch, the core of the track a huge swath of downtuned distorted sludge guitar, tinkling melodies buried in the murk and mire, a shifting wall of rooooaaaarrr, like a slow motion mudslide, before the melodies are freed, the dirge drifts off and all that is left is a series of very Fripp / Eno guitar figures, repetetive and sweetly hypnotic. The record's closing track "Green Pasture" mines similar territory, a blissy barely there drone, peppered with stacatto bursts of blown out vacuum cleaner metal guitar, a super dynamic seesaw, between burbling dreaminess and massive SUNNO)))-like dirge. Quite possibley the coolest Growing track yet...

MPEG stream: Fancy Period
MPEG stream: Green Pasture
MPEG stream: Peace Offering

Two brief experimental soundscapes from these AQ faves. No space rock or krautrock or any kind of rock actually here, this is mostly ambient drift, and strange sonic experimentalism, and the end result manages to sound quite strange and quite strangely pretty. The A side resembles an ambient noise version of The Smith's "How Soon Is Now?" with a stuttering churning reverbed guitar riff, looped into a hypnotic rhythm, slowly transforming into a machinelike landscape, while over the top tumble playful fluttery FX drenched melodies and streaks and swooshes of feedback and metallic hum. The flipside is a series of haunting little sonic events, muted rhythmic thumps, gurgling underwater melodies, little high end squiggles, all very textural and murky, like some tiny alien machine crawling its way slowly up through the depths...

Low level drones drenched in feedback and synth tones from the Olympia, WA duo known as Growing. Like a lo-fi Popol Vuh or midrange Earth, but with a dreamier edge via ambiguous vocalizations.

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY.

Growing may be a rock band, but they're the sort of rock band that seems to just set the music in motion, letting in blossom and build, only intervening when necessary, allowing bass and guitar and vocals to interact organically, creating dense soundscapes, equal parts shimmery space rock, reverb drenched slow core, and dark rumbling drone. Three lengthy tracks, almost thirty minutes of space-y drone-y bliss. The first track is made up of warm snarls of distorted guitar, woven into huge expanses of thick ambient swirl, beneath majestic swaths of keening melody and subtle shuffling rattlesnake percussion. A strangely otherworldly tribal space drone, almost folky at times, with the melodies sounding like some alien bagpipe, but always lush and dense and druggy. Track two, "Freedom Towards Death" is the shortest and most song-like, with dreamy deadpan vocals buried beneath a chaotic smear of multi-tracked guitars and layer after layer of throbbing sludge and space-y swoosh. Sounds a bit like a good old fashioned pop song dipped in some Hawkwind and sprinkled with some Sunroof! The final track is a massive fifteen minute epic of slow growing, pulsing guitars, so incredibly thick and dense it sort of resonates right through your ears, through your whole body and into your soul. The kind of song we wish would go on forever. Like floating in the clouds, or drifting underwater, or sinking slowly through a million mile thick slab of billowy guitars. The track ends (sadly) amazingly with the sound becoming more and more blown out and distorted, until the guitar starts to fall apart, becoming cracked and crumbly until it sort of sputters out in a brief flicker of static and crackle. WOW.

MPEG stream: In The Shadow Of The Mountain
MPEG stream: Freedom Towards Death

Brooklyn-based ambient-drone duo Growing never fails to please the devoted. It could also easily be said that the duo has failed to truly diverge from their original starting point. Although, part of the charm of this sort of music is indulging in a process of creation that celebrates the difference and repetition within a given theme or concept; expanding or investigating a specific idea over a length of time. Thus, if you like Growing, you'll love this EP. All of the usual landmarks are here: a Nadja on opium meets some sort of Windy & Carl and Labradford hybrid, heavy filter manipulations, masked, aquatic tremolo and chorus leads, and full-on auto-pan attacks that completely embrace stereo dynamics. We've read that -- specifically within the ambient-drone scene -- Growing has been particularly reluctant to utilize computers, preferring to employ pedals and more organic looping techniques. Still, a quick listen to this release unearths enough digital-sounding distortion to make the listener wonder whether or not these two dronesters have finally caved in or not. Fans of long, drawn-out melodic landscapes or psychedelic explorations won't want to miss out on this one. Definitely recommended.

MPEG stream: First Contact
MPEG stream: Lateral

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. We unfortunately only -just- found out about this record and were of course informed upon ordering it there were only a handful of copies left. Arghh. Well, we managed to get the last 25 copies, so be aware, that obviously, these will not last long! A super limited live cd (NOT a cd-r as we previously believed) from AQ faves Growing, whose mix of glacial Earth like heaviness and delicate foresty drones we just can't get enough of. Recorded live in 2004 and mastered by James Plotkin (Khanate, Phantomsmasher, etc.), this live disc is almost eighty minutes of alternating drift and pummel, sludgy slow motion dirges that crystallize into sparkling sonic fields of glisten and glimmer. Even when they're heavy, Growing manage to be delicate and ethereal. The first track is a massive twenty minute swirl of translucent shimmers and warm guitar glow. Fragile and hovering weightless in front of your speakers. While Growing continually return to that near-ambient tranquility, the record is a series of meandering excursions into MASSIVE slow motion, melted-riff soundscapes, notes and chords unfurl impossibly slowly, as if someone had doubled the gravity and the sound waves were actually visible, drizzling lazily to the floor like molasses or honey, rich golden globs of thick distorted throb. Like Earth and Skullflower meshed into one buzzing blurry soundfield, all muted melody and crunchy riffage, a pulsing swirl of feedback and guitarral grrrr! The sound is phenomenal. Rich and lustrous and LOUD. You wouldn't be able to tell this was a live recording at all if it weren't for the smattering of applause between songs. Which also begs the question, what the hell is wrong with the world when a sound this amazing, and a set this gorgeous and crushingly heavy is being performed before what sounds to be about 20 people? Seriously, when the sound abruptly ends, you expect an overwhelming roar, thousands of voices and clapping hands and stomping feet, the only possible and proper reaction to the sounds that came before... Packaged in a beautiful six panel folder, a kaleidoscope of leaves on a stark white background on the outside, a blur of overlapping semi-opaque spheres on the inside. Two different designs, both similar but slightly different. And once again, VERY VERY LIMITED!!

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Most people know Growing as the drone duo of Joe Denardo and Kevin Doria. Well, welcome to 2010, where Growing are now a trio (again, for the first time in a long while) and where the drone seems to have taken a backseat to the band's more electronic persuasions. The new member comes in the form of Sadie Laska, whose vocals and sampling add some nice feminine energy to what was once primarily a dudefest (if two guys qualifies as a "dudefest"). We're sure there are some people wondering what happened, but we're too busy enjoying this new approach, because let's face it, two guys with guitars, E-bows, and a plethora of pedals is all well and good, but you can only go so far with that before wising up to the fact that there is much more to life. What makes Pumps! so great is not only the fact that Growing have switched things up, but how they went about doing it and how, at the end of the day, it still makes total sense that this is Growing. This is a much needed evolutionary step for sure, and the band sounds revitalized. Not only that, but without going too overboard or kissing ass to any trends, the new Growing does fit in quite well with many of today's electronic warriors like recent tourmates Fuck Buttons, Black Dice, and even Animal Collective if you downplayed some of their more hippie-ish tendencies. Growing's new home with the notorious Vice label will also assuredly lead to... well, some crazy shit we would imagine. The album opens with "Short Circuit", and even though many of you have probably heard of the changes, your first reaction may still be, "Is this Growing?" It is, but with heavy beats and electronic squelches which soon become very melodic. Laska's voice comes in and seems to oscillate from speaker to speaker, creating it's own rhythmic flow that goes perfectly with the mutant dub production style. The sound here is hard to define but undeniably rad and definitely worthy of the title "Short Circuit". Elsewhere, you get some nice '80s video game inspired stuff, like on "Massive Dropout", with it's hi-hat beat guiding you to a portal opening into some weird dimension with laid back, easy grooves. We are tempted to use words like "sunny" and "summery", but those don't seem to indicate the weirdness of it all. On "Highlight" we picked up what seems to be a pretty heavy Kraftwerk influence, in fact some of us were even reminded of the song "Hall Of Mirrors", but maybe we're just crazy. Either way, awesome stuff that is super catchy and really good for headphone listening. Perhaps poking fun at themselves, or even their fans (lightheartedly, of course), "Drone Burger" does utilize a nice drone reminiscent of Spacemen 3's "Repeater" with little keyboard stabs punctuating the atmosphere. Closing number "Mind Eraser" makes good use of a thumping beat and electronic static. The overall feeling of paranoia is heightened by a voice proclaiming, "I love drugs" as other indecipherable voices shoot all over the place before the words "I love you" creepily take the song to it's fadeout conclusion. Awesome stuff, and definitely a positive step forward for these guys and gal. It's great to see a band manage to surprise while also confirming the identity they already established, making it clear that Growing will remain Growing as long the musicians involved are willing to take risks and keep... growing (sorry, heh).

MPEG stream: Short Circuit
MPEG stream: Hormone
MPEG stream: Mind Eraser

Yay! The debut album from this Olympia trio may be one of the Kranky label's best in a long while. It's almost completely instrumental and melds gorgeous post-rock with ambient electronics and thick, satisfying drones. In the space of an hour, four lengthy tracks develop. Serene arpeggiated guitar notes give way to shimmering cymbals. Silence unfolds into emotive ambient atmospherics, which devolve into simply strummed acoustic guitar. Warbly electronics ebb and flow over the natural buzz and hum of insects on a warm summer night. Notes are held forever until they fade naturally, reminding us of Earth or SunnO))) only without the overt metal/doom element, just the heavy, weighty sombreness... and with Growing this gravity always evolves to an epic hope-imbued sort of flight toward a blissful horizon. The dynamics are carefully controlled yet effortless, and not at all "hard" to listen to. (In fact, one of the pieces uses the chord progression from "Norwegian Wood", odd choice but a welcome bit of familiarity amidst the drone.) A gorgeous, calming record. Highly recommended for fans of Windy & Carl, Earth, The Necks, Jonathan Coleclough, Sunroof, and even Boris. But even if you don't know those artists from Adam, you should give the soundclips a listen because the operative word here is "accessible" -- whether or not the genres Growing touches on are your cup of tea, they do it so well that this record may open your ears to stuff you've previously written off as too difficult. This is soooo pretty. Windy loves this. So does Allan.

MPEG stream: A Painting
MPEG stream: Tepsije

Kranky's heaviest, Growing, return with their second album of sheer instrumental drone-bliss. This new Growing floats out on the same calm ocean as the debut, containing another four lengthy tracks of post-rock ambience that range from shimmery and gorgeous minimalist throb to dense buzzing drones that would make Burzum proud. Now a two-piece of guitars and bass (and we're pretty sure some cymbals are heard here too) revelling in electricity and feedback with delicate sensitivity, Growing's The Soul Of The Rainbow And the Harmony Of Light reminds us tremendously of Fripp and Eno's 1973 classic No Pussyfooting. But heavier -- it's like Fripp and Eno meet Earth. Or Tony Conrad playing with a stripped-down Kinski. Something part metal, part new age, wholly neither. Recommended!

MPEG stream: Anaheim II
MPEG stream: Epochal Reminiscence

Growing were definitely an interesting band, right from the start, but back then they were trawling a lot of the same musical ground as loads of other bands, a blissed out blend of post rock, epic dramatic soundscapery and glitchy electronics, all blended into a seamless and dreamy whole. And even then, Growing definitely stood out, but it would be hard to have imagined them getting this strange sounding. And equally difficult to imagine them cultivating a sound this bizarre, while managing to make it just as dreamy and droney and gorgeous as ever.� From the opening track, a simple repeated riff, a super processed effects soaked guitar part, repeated over and over, a strange subtle progression, backed up by a super simple bass drum pulse, and streaked with bits of backwards guitars and whirling shimmer, it's obvious that Growing are no longer content to just rock out and drift off, they are looking for weird sounds and figuring out how to make those weird sounds sound beautiful.� The second track, 15 minutes plus, is thick with grinding low end guitars, chopped into staccato pulses, laced with almost techno sounding Nintendo melodies, and loads of hiss and ambient flutter. That's only the first few minutes, there are long stretches of fuzzy reverbed guitar, but even those parts are dotted with bursts of glitched electronic bbzzzzzt. Near the end, thick swaths of buzzing guitar pile up into gently swaying Teenage Filmstars-esque walls of sound. The next track, another long one, eschews all the effects, at� least the obvious ones, and instead lets an ocean of guitars swirl and shimmer, tangle and untangle, flip backwards and then forwards, a million melodies pulling apart and coming back together in different shapes, pretty, but definitely a lot to take in sonically.� The last two tracks are brief, "Emseepee" is a churning pulsing damaged krautrock drone, with lots of electronic buzz, gnarled bits of synth and lots of damaged glitch, all over a relentless, almost new wave sounding Goblin bassline. Finally, the record winds down with "Lightfoot" a Tim Hecker-ish soundscape, of gently pulsing fuzz, indistinct melodies, fragments of songs allowed to drift on a constantly shifting sonic sea, before suddenly pulling apart into a dizzying squall of sound shards, hiccuping and stuttering and throbbing and eventually crumbling into what sounds like a skipping broken cd player. Woah.� Not nearly as soothing as past efforts, but that no longer seems to be what they're going for. The sounds are alien and difficult, the arrangements confusing and convoluted, but Growing manage to reign these problematic sounds into shapes that are both fascinating and strangely soothing.�

MPEG stream: On Anon
MPEG stream: Morning Drive

Split ep between Olympia, WA trio Growing and former Get Hustle member Mark Evan Burden with each contributing a 16 minute track. Growing's track "Firmament" begins as a bubbling analog synth warble, progressing to ever more dark and ominous waters, but stripped of the guitar and bass parts that made their full length works remind us of Sunn 0))) or Earth. Burden's piece, "10724/02", is a striking contrast. His electronics accompanied piano improvisation ranges between the maniacal pounding minimalism of Charlemagne Palestine and the atmospheric soundscapes of Harold Budd (sans the nuage tendancies). Quite nice!

MPEG stream: Firmament
MPEG stream: 10/24/02

For a band who existed so briefly, with only handful of live performances, and a single record to their name, San Francisco's late great black metal masterminds Weakling cast a mighty long shadow. Many consider their Dead As Dreams debut/swansong to be one of the best US black metal records EVER, and hell, who are we to argue. Andee's tUMULt label put it out, after all. It's also inspired at least three tributes/homages that we can think of, Jabladav's weirdo worshipful Dead As Duck album, then there's the band Dead As Dreams, and now there's this two song tape from Texas/Oregon black metal outfit Grst, entitled Fire Therein, on which the trio tackle two Weakling tracks, "Cut Their Grain And Place Fire Therein" and "Dead As Dreams". And on first listen, these guys do a pretty good Weakling, especially the anguished wailed shrieking vokills, the music itself is a lot more polished and less raw than the original, the organ/synth way higher in the mix, the drums too, it sounds like they've added some subtle twisted of their own, but it's obviously a pretty reverential homage, and for anyone who loves the original, which should be all of you, it's pretty cool to hear someone else's interpretation, and the fact that it still sounds so good, most definitely speaks to the power, the energy, and the uniqueness of the original. Same with "Dead As Dreams", a song we've loved so much for so long, that even hearing an entirely different version, the minute we hear that riff, that instantly recognizable melody, it gives us chills, and again, hearing a different version/interpretation, gives us new perspective, and makes us want to dig into the original all over again. Which is pretty much everything you want from a tribute/cover/homage... LIMITED TO 100 COPIES. With cool pitch perfect Dead As Dreams styled cover art.

MPEG stream: Cut Their Grain And Place Fire Therein

Have to admit, I (Cup) approached this album with more than a little apprehension. We heard that Mr. Grubbs was switching gears, and it appears that at least for this album, David Grubbs has hung up his experimental jacket and donned his pop cardigan! Well, the first few songs won me over with their sunny jangly guitars and wistful vocals. If you dig Archer Prewitt, Robyn Hitchcock and older Sea & Cake (as I do) you might be charmed by some of this album. Aaah, what do I mean by "some of this album"? Well, by the seventh song "You'll Never Tame Me" something goes awry. Sorta like Grubbs the beat poet. Yikes. Fortunately things do get back on track for the songs that follow, but late in the album, it seems Grubbs can't resist sneakin' back into his avant-rock pocket for the end of "Hurricane Season" bringing it to a close with wailing layers of horns or strings or... well, we're not quite sure what's making the din. Then it proceeds into the final track called "Coda (Breathing)", a haunting soundscape. Instead of it being "A Guess At The Riddle", this is a puzzling jumble.

MPEG stream: A Cold Apple
MPEG stream: Hurricane Season

Oh my, I can't tell you how good this record is! I really can't believe how inventive that David Grubbs guy is! Have you seen those little computers that are the size of a notebook? Did you know they call those computers "laptops!" Did you know that you Sarcasm aside, Chunklet said it best: "The Bruce Hornsby of the avant-garde."

RealAudio clip: Act Five, Scene One Track One

Whoops, when we first hit 'play' we almost mistook this new David Grubbs cd for Codeine. Ultra slooow, ultra stark and ultra emotive. By the third song however Grubbs' kicks it up a few notches into jangly emo pop territory (think: Versus or Weakerthans). Very wistful and contemplative. And by the sixth and final track "The Not So Distant", he's set us adrift on an almost twelve minute long minimal guitar drone and percussion soundscape. Yes, he's a man of many musical hats and he keeps a number of them (mostly those of earthy muted hues) in constant rotation on An Optimist Notes the Dusk.

MPEG stream: Gethsemani Night
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Three solo instrumental recordings by Gastr del Sol's David Grubbs. Piano and guitar, beautiful.

Maybe David Grubbs thinks that if he can release enough solo albums record stores will be forced to give him his very own bin card, thus increasing his credibility, thereby generating album sales. It's sort of the indie rock version of Casablanca records when they took to manufacturing 500,000 copies of initial record pressings so they could say they were "gold". I guess it works sometimes. If you tell someone that an album is a best seller they just might buy it. Likewise, I suppose if Mr Grubbs can get an extensive enough back catalog he can drag his ass out of the Bastro / Gastr Del Sol bins and acquire some street cred as a solo artist. If O'Rourke can do it, why can't he? And he almost gets it. Almost. At first 'Rickets & Scurvy' sounds like an attempt at emulating the Red House Painters, but what's that? It sounds like David is grasping at straws to find a melody. Maybe he's doing his best at producing obtuse melodic passages in an effort to come off as the intellectual post 20th century songwriter. I can almost see him in a coffee shop with a soul patch and horn rimmed glasses playing to quietly nodding fans. No, he'll have to cut the pretentious crap from his act before we can move him out of our Gastr Del Sol section. Rickets and scurvy are things to be avoided, so eat lots of fresh fruit and vegetables, get outside as much as possible and avoid David Grubbs. Although, to be fair (us be fair to David Grubbs? it might be too late now) we should mention that fans of Gastr's "Camofleur" or "Upgrade" might want to give this a chance despite our criticism, and as well, Matmos-spotters should note the presence of those San Francisco electronica loons on several tracks here.

RealAudio clip: Transom

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Out of the thicket, Gastr del Sol's Grubbs makes another beautiful record. Side one is much like Banana, Cabbage, Potato, Lettuce with vocals. Sort of a play acted out to music: in fact, it's an adaption of Stephen Crane's The Blue Hotel. Side two is a drone piece like a tame version of Jim O'Rourke influenced by Tony Conrad. Guests include Noel Akchote, Stephen Prina, and more. Purdy.

The Coxcomb was first released as a pretty 12" picture disc on the French Rectangle label (we have a copy or two left). It's a nice, simmering, seventeen minute adaptation of a short story by Stephen Crane, in musical form. Drag City has decided to release The Coxcomb stateside, and have backed it with a previously unreleased full-band version of the previously-solo Grubbs piece Onion Orange (called Avocado Orange in its new form). With guests Noel Akchote, John McEntire (Tortoise) etc.

RealAudio clip: The Coxcomb

This album starts off trying to sound like Souled American, as Grubbs attempts to replicate their warbled instrumentation within the confines of his own overbearing intellectualism... Of course, he fails, and miserably. The album then continues as a funky version of the Red House Painters. I can only hope that such an image can hint at just how bad this album is, but that's really what it sounds like. The first of Grubbs' many problems is that he forgot that country and folk music (especially John Fahey's purposefully avantgarde bluegrass) is often the result of hard living and hard drinking. Irony has never been a valid reason to make a country or folk album, and it shouldn't start with this one.

Solo outing from half of Gastr Del Sol, recording Fahey-like ditties and avant acoustic noodlings with help from Tony Conrad and John McEntire.

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY.

David Grubbs' previous collaboration with the Swedish improvisational reedist Mats Gustafsson, who's played with Ken Vandermark and Peter Brotzman, resulted in "Apertura," with Grubbs on harmonium and Gustafsson on tenor sax. On "Off-Road,", instrumentation includes electric guitar and electronics as well as harmonium from Grubbs and fluteophone (basically a cross between a flute and a saxophone, as the name implies), tenor sax, flageolet (a brass whistle), synthesizer and contact mics from Gustafsson. Henry Moore Selder (last seen directing a Hives video) helps out on maracas and turntables. Gustafsson's playing involves a lot of breathing heavily through his reeds, creating subtle vocal textures rather than notes. It sounds kind of creepy, really. These songs feature clattering, helicopter-esque percussiveness moving through the stereo field, accompanied by contact-mic buzz; juxtapositions of operatic vocal recordings, kitty meowing, long buzzing reed tones and synth clacking in a kind of sloppy improv plunderphonia; and some more digestible tracks with Grubbs lending guitar work reminiscent of his work in Gastr Del Sol. Recorded in Stockholm. MPEG Download: "Dystopian Turboprop" [/audio/grubbs_gustafssondystopian.mp3] MPEG Stream: "Dystopian Turboprop" [/audio/grubbs_gustafssondystopian.m3u]

MPEG stream: Dystopian Turboprop
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Until the best albums Grubbs made get reissued (Bastro's Diablo Guapo and Sing the Troubled Beast), we'll settle for this uber-academic duet of phasing drones for harmonium and saxophone.

[ aquarius records catalogue — G ]