[ aquarius records catalogue

IMPORTANT (Please read to avoid confusion): Some items below may be tagged with a bold, red, all-caps OUT OF PRINT/UNAVAILABLE notice. This does NOT mean that all other items not so tagged are, in fact, in stock — or for that matter, in print and available, though there's a good chance they are. Some folks get confused on this point, and we can see why, so please read this for further clarification and other important before-you-order information. Unlike some mailorder websites, we don't have an electronic inventory system linked to our site, so you can't be sure of what we actually have or don't have in stock at any given moment without asking us — please email our mailorder department for availability status — or better yet, just go ahead and place your order using our shopping cart function and we'll get back to you with the status of each item. If you have general non-mailorder questions, email the store.

Showing results 1401 through 1450 of 1631.

Another slab of swirling sonic thickness from the duo of Matthew Bower (Sunroof!, Skullflower) and Marcia Bassett (Double Leopards, GHQ, Zaimph). Huge whirls of guitar woven into dense tangles and staticky squalls. But WAY limited so probably gone before you know it.

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These guys are killing us. It almost seems like a contest to see who can release the most material in the shortest amount of time. The main problem being that it's all so goddamn good. Especially when we're talking about Matthew Bower (Sunroof!, Skullflower) and his partner in sonic subversion Marcia Bassett (GHQ, Double Leopards, Zaimph). This is the thirteenth release (that we know about) between these two since February, which is a lot to take in for sure, but if you're a fan of their particular brand of slow shifting wall of guitar dirge, then another massive blast is more than welcome. The weird thing is, outside of Skullflower and Sunroof!, most of the music these two make is very sonically similar, which begs the question, why Hototogisu and Zaimph and GHQ, if the sound is fairly consistent. Sure each has it's own subtle nuances, and involves different folks, but it almost seems like everyone from all of the Bower/Bassett offshoots should just get together and form the world's most formidable free-noise ensemble. Then again, that might be a bit too much for anybody to handle. especially considering the sort of ruckus just the duo of Bassett and Bower can whip up. On Some Blood Will Stick, the two are at their most caustic and metallic, huge washes of coruscating guitar, shrieking feedback, droning buzz, a massive roiling black sea of sound, peppered with all manner of industrial grind and corrosive crunch, and for the first time the vocals are actually audible, just barely, still buried way down in the mix like just another layer of furious freaked out sound, but occasionally the howling, shrieking super distorted black-metal-meets-Whitehouse yowl manages to rear it's ugly head before being sucked back under. Intense!

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There seems to be a bit of a noise renaissance going on these days. Not only are there more and more outfits whose specialty seems to be kicking up serious squalls of sonic chaos, but groups who dabbled in noise, or originators of noise music who had perhaps moved on, and often pushed the boundaries of what noise music was or could be, seem to be reverting to sounds much more primal and cathartic. Witness the most recent Skullflower. A blast of coruscating blown out skree. And here we have the latest from the duo Hototogisu, which just so happens to feature Mr. Bower. Hmmm. Maybe it's just Bower then. Skullflower briefly returned to THE RIFF recently, most notably with Exquisite Fucking Boredom, a series of looped seventies drug rock riffs, rendered increasingly disjointed and disembodied. And back in the day, Skullflower were a serious riff heavy thudrock combo. But over the last few records, the sound of Skullflower has gotten increasingly noisier. The cool thing though is that the noise is infused with a melodic sensibility Bower just can't seem to kick. Or maybe doesn't want to. Now, Hototogisu, Bower's group with Marcia Bassett from GHQ and Double Leopards was always a noisy proposition, and that hasn't really changed much. here and there, the group would slip into something more drone-y or raga like, but noise was their reason for being. So it should com as no surprise that this latest lp is very very noisy. Two side long tracks, the first of which is seriously caustic, as always close listening reveals much going on, texture and rhythm and timbre, but it is very much a serious slab of noisemusic. The B side however, is much more nuanced. And while still noisy, is much more melodic, drones and layers of buzz shifting and transforming, streaks of feedback, bits of rumble and whir, all wound around accidental melodies, and stretches of almost blissful noise. But noise it remains. Thus, this is another one for the iron eared. Fans of Hototogisu and Bower and Bassett's various projects will most definitely dig, but those with sensitive ears or a low tolerance for sonic skree, tread very carefully...

This collaboration could have gone one of two ways, both equally appealing, blissed out and drone-y like the Burning Star Core albums that we've made records of the week in the past, or noisy and chaotic like most of the Hototogisu records we've reviewed. And while here and there this definitely falls somewhere right in between, for the most part, this falls squarely on the noisy side of things. Which is to be expected, guitars, electronics, voices, drums, percussion violin, Moog, objects (!), acoustic appraiser (!!), it would be no small feat to tie all that stuff up into something droney and composed. But then these folks excel at letting loose, unleashing sounds, unfurling huge clouds of blurred buzz, sending streaks of high end sparking into the atmosphere, conjuring up all manner of sonic demons with these slow shifting ur-drone rituals. The drums are mostly scattered and abstract, but when they do lock into a groove, the sound briefly transforms into a sort of krautnoise jam, before coming loose again and drifting heavenward, sprawling out and raining sonic debris upon the swirling sea of abstract clatter and pulsing buzz drenched hum below. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!!!

Originally for sale as a tour only release, this little chunk of ear drum punishing goodness is finally available to the noise starved masses.�Most AQ customers should be pretty familiar with Hototogisu by now, the duo of Matthew Bower (Skullflower, Total, Sunroof! and more) and Marcia Bassett (Double Leopards, GHQ, Zaimph) as well as Burning Star Core, aka C. Spencer Yeh (although here, BSC is expanded to a trio including some folks from Hair Police), and thus are probably pretty excited to hear what might happen when these two freenoise behemoths join forces. And what in fact happens, is a big sprawling chaotic blown out spaced out free rock noise jam. The addition of drums makes a huge difference, grounding the sound in 'rock', but said drumming is free and abstract enough to let the music breath and expand and spread out like a black fog. The opener is a static Dead C style jam, a simple plodding beat, cymbals and kick drum mostly, while all around, dizzying swirls of guitar fuzz and thick swaths of distorted synth, and in there to some damaged electronics and of course some of Yeh's FX drenched violin. The backdrop is a constantly shifting swirl of noise and sound, but the simple plodding rhythm makes it sound like some ultra gritty lost krautrock rehearsal tape.� The second track is a bit more unhinged, the background of the first song, brought to the fore and allowed to swallow everything up. The drums this time are just an incessant clanging buried in the mix, like a railroad crossing bell heard from within a tornado. Part way through some of the noise seems to coalesce into sort-of-riffs, and suddenly it a strangely propulsive slab of white hot white noise, albeit with a bit of groove to it. The next track is the most melodic, a gothy, doomy sort of glacial dirge, almost like an ultra lo-fi Hawkwind, crushing drums and more of that noisy blown out squall jammed into every crevice. The drums drop out almost entirely for the next number, the guitars and synths and violins and vocals spread out into long effulgent streaks, super noisy, but strangely hypnotic and dreamy.� The final track is a sort of throwaway, a brief sputter of creaks and clatter, scrape and grind, angular and atonal, a blown out noise coda, but it's the loooooong tracks that make up the rest of the record that really hit the drone-dirge-noise spot.� Packaged in a cool, black plastic case with a black and white cover, black and white insert, and each copy includes a button, one of 5 different designs chosen at random.�

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

SORRY.

We never really thought of Hototogisu as a 'noise' band. Sure they're noisy, sometimes REALLY noisy, but there is always a certain raga drone element to their thick-sheet-of-sound rooooaaaar, which makes perfect sense since the two members also make sounds in the Double Leopards and as Sunroof! / Skullflower. And in Hototogisu, you could always hear that struggle, between the Double Leopards' minimal murky crawl, the high end ur-drone of Sunroof! and Skullflower's coruscating wall of feedback pummel. And the results were divine, at once harsh and beautiful, glistening but jagged and brutal. Then there's Prurient, who we ALWAYS considered to be a noise band. Shrieking feedback, industrial grind, primitive percussion, maniacal howling vocals, all wrapped in buzzing clouds of glitch and hiss and buzz and screech. A seriously intense and pulverizing onslaught of sound. BUT, Prurient also has that special something that keeps their records from sounding like third rate Merzbow or a wannabe Whitehouse. Sure it's noise music, but it's layered and textural and weird and in a really difficult harsh way, pretty dang listenable. So what happens when you take those two completely different approaches to noise music and make them one? Well, to begin with, as you may have surmised, you get something pretty fucking noisy, and just a cursory listen reveals a thick squirming snarl of harsh hateful sound. And in fact, the first few listens had folks in the store wondering if this was actually blacknoise terrorists Stalaggh, and that's not all that far off the mark. But closer listening reveals a deep dark cavernous world of noise(s), deep resonant washes of rumbling buzz, foghorn-like blares of jagged grinding throb, thick waves of staticky hum, blinding flares of shrieking feedback, epic squalls of chest rattling low end moan, grinding industrial clatter blasted into glistening shards. all constantly pulsing, and throbbing, swaying and shifting, like drifting aimlessly across a stormy obsidian sea, where the water is a roiling swirl of black buzz, and the storm clouds above are thick smears of throbbing metallic crunch, the wind like gusts of ear splitting feedback, and you the listener clinging desperately to your stereo, lest you be hurled into blackness and swallowed whole. Pretty fucking cool.

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

SORRY. A super limited repressing of this awesome 3" from a few months back. Once these are gone, there will be not be another repress. The three inch cd seems to be the format of choice these days for all things avant / drone related. I guess it's part the novelty, but also the 20 minute limit is just perfect for one big long track. Like the modern day drone rock equivalent of our old friend the seven inch single. This super limited three inch just so happens to be the latest missive from Mr. Matthew Bower of Sunroof!, Skullflower, Total, etc. Bower is the Hototogisu, and on this disc that means gorgous, pulsing free noise, taking the crushing power of Skullflower and smoothing it out with the bliss of Sunroof! Two tracks merged into one twenty minute piece of strangled guitar chords, droning and throbbing, becoming more and more machinelike, until the whole thing is a keening, looped mass of distorted grit and vibrating hum, like an industrial Steve Reich, or a noise rock Terry Riley. Caustic and abrasive, but also hypnotic and beautiful.

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Brand new double cd-r release from The Hototogisu, the occasional project of Sunroof!/Skullflower mainman Matthew Bower. Unlike previous Bower efforts (and the last Hototogisu cd-r) 'Floating Japanese Oof!' plays out like one massive 140 minute piece (regardless of how it's tracked). This is bliss out, drone music the way it was meant to be experienced, in massive mind expanding chunks. Shimmery clouds of ambient high end guitar drone and squiggly brain tickling twinkles, with pulsing low end, and distant clatter. Gorgeous, otherworldly and totally essential.

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Another massive sonic document from the dynamic duo of Matthew Bower (Sunroof!, Skullflower, Total, etc) and Marcia Bassett (Double Leopards). Ghosts From The Sun is a reissue of the super limited double cd-r of almost the same name (replace 'sun' with 'shit') released last year and finds the group drifting much closer to Bower's bliss rock outfit Sunroof!. While Hototogisu has always been a wilder and noisier beast than either member's other projects, most of the 'noise' is taken care of in the first eight minutes, a glorious burst of incendeiry feedback and churning guitar grrrrr. The rest of the first disc and all of disc two takes the Dead C and slips them some thorazine and the result is a woozy and druggy free noise workout, much heavier on the free than the noise. Each track has a thick brambly bed of distorted guitar thrum, atop which is draped streaks of high end feedback, huge slabs of low end throb and strange effected melodies stretched and twisted into yet more 'noise'. A swirling, surging morass of muscular heave and delicate flutter, an expanse of dense drifting sonic fog, a viscous flow of molten drone and rumble.

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A new cd from Skullflower / Sunroof! mainman Matthew Bower's other ambient free noise outfit Hototogisu, and it's about time too, as most of the other Hototogisu and Sunroof! releases have been on cd-r and have been tough to get back in stock. Hototogisu is now, and has been for a while, a duo with Marcia Bassett of the Double Leopards, and their sound is definitely a bit more noisy and aggressive than in the past (as hinted at on the sleeve with the instrumentation listed as Bower on "oooowwwhh" and Bassett on "rrrggghh"), with sheets of corrosive guitars, spread into thick washes of screeching feedback, all over thick gurgling backgrounds of rumbling drones and glitchy malfunctioning electronics, occasionally splattered with bursts of chaotic percussion and maniacal abstract drum programming. But all of that random clatter and aggressive pummel is harnessed into an epic record of thick, throbbing guitar drone, not all that unlike Bower's old Total outift, or Skullflower at their most guitar heavy and free. Heavy and noisy indeed, but also blissfully hypnotic in that way that only a massive slab of droning guitars can be!

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Another amazing project from Mr. Matthew Bower (Skullflower/Total/Sunroof!) and his Rural Electrification Program. One has to wonder how one man can be so prolific and continually churn out such amazing sounds. But ours is not to question... The disc starts off with what sounds like people playing ping pong accompanied by a shopping mall organ and sparsely plucked guitar, moody sparse and sort of whimsical. Track two finds Bower back in more familiar waters. A shimmering wash of high end harmonics and the sound of dripping water. Much mellower and dreamier than Sunroof!, all distant melodies, and guitar shimmers and delicate webs of feedback. Hypnotic and ethereally captivating.

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The soundtrack for Ethan Hawkes' latest movie (based on his first novel) sure reads like a who's who of the hip and the cool: Cat Power, Feist, Bright Eyes, The Black Keys, M.Ward, Emmylou Harris, Willie Nelson, Norah Jones, Brad Mehldau, Rocha, Tony Scherr, and Jesse Harris... Uhh, wait a sec, that last name on the list might not ring any bells as clearly as the rest of the bunch... yet! But he's the fella who wrote all of the songs on this soundtrack. Close pal Mr. Hawke thought Harris' songwriting skills would be a perfect match for The Hottest State. Not having seen the movie, we can't say for certain whether it fits or not, but as a stand alone compilation it's pretty darn solid. Heck, this should come as no surprise really because we've all probably unwittingly heard his superlative songwriting abilities before. He wrote Norah Jones' "Don't Know Why" single for gosh sake. And how's this for timing? Harris' own album Feel was just released last month so if you find your ears itching for more....

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The hands of Hound Dog Taylor were an unusual pair, as the Chicago bluesman was born with 6 digits on each hand. Though when he died in 1975, his right hand could only count to five as Taylor sliced off his sixth finger in a drunken rage. The trio which has adopted its name from Hound Dog Taylor doesn't specify which hand they are glorifying - the left with those six digits (only five seemingly capable of hitting the strings of the guitar, the sixth looking scrawny and vestigial) or the right which was the victim of self-mutilation. Suppose we could ask; but for now we'll let than question be open-ended as the eccentricities of Americana are just one of many of the areas of expertise for the modern-day avant-bluesman Jeffrey Taylor, whose best known as half of dada-collage art-rock ensemble Climax Golden Twins. Like their spiritual siblings The Sun City Girls, both Jeffrey Taylor and fellow CGT cohort Robert Millis can fucking play guitar. Old tyme Appalachian ragas? You bet! Catchy-as-fuck riffs of art-punk grooviness that earned CGT an album on Sub Pop? Yes, they did! Imagined psychedelic splatter coming from Southeast Asia? Oh, that too! Jeffrey Taylor's rollicking guitar is front and center in Hound Dog Taylor's Hand, with Mark Ostrowski and John Seman fleshing out the rhythm section. The numbers are improvisational in nature, though much of the tropes, riffs, and rhythms hit a combination of out-rock bluesiness, spy-thriller jazziness, and swampy American primitivism all laced with a pleasantly drunk, cocksure swagger. Pro duped tapes with hand silkscreened covers AND download cards. Very limited, of course.

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Once again, the clock strikes 13!! And that means, it's DOOM time. This is the third album of from Hour Of 13, the Sabbatherian side-project of guitarist Chad Davis from psychedelic spacerockers US Christmas (aka USX). As before, he's joined in Hour Of 13's fuzzy, chugging rituals by promiscuous Ozzy-ish vocalist Phil Swanson (also of Seamount, Briton Rites, Nightbitch, and a bunch of others). All modern-day doom metal bands can of course trace their lineage back to Black Sabbath, but some also have obvious influences from other acts in the doom family tree. The lumbering Gates Of Slumber, for example, owe a lot to Saint Vitus. As did Revered Bizarre - who themselves provided the template more recently for Pilgrim. Other bands take after Candlemass, or Pentagram. In the case of Hour Of 13, we're hearing a lot of Trouble. But, these guys for sure ain't no Christians. Song titles like "Deny The Cross" and "Rite Of Samhain" are one clue. There's definitely something darker and more disturbing and dismal about Hour Of 13, even as their music riffs and rocks with a lot of obvious '80s metal inspiration. Listen to an hour of Hour Of 13 (or in this case, 47 minutes, totalling 7 tracks) and you're NOT gonna feel uplifted. You'll feel doomed. Which is what you wanted, right? Thus, 333 (hmm, only half of 666, does that mean something? are you supposed to buy two and listen to them together?) is another slab that any Hour Of 13 and/or Phil Swanson fan is gonna want to grab.

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With a name like Hour Of 13, you know this is a doom metal band. "Trad" doom, in fact, the most Black Sabbathy kind, sludgy and old school, with a dark and occult vibe, compete with a vocalist who sounds a little something like Ozzy. He's Phil Swanson, who also sings in Seamount (reviewed here previously) and Briton Rites (whom we hope to review too), amongst others. The main guy in this outfit, though, is Chad Davis, who wrote and recorded all the music. He's also a member of country-flecked space rockers US Christmas (and used to play drums for death metallers Father Befouled) among many other band connections. After an interestingly atmospheric and melodic opening track, laden with synths, they get into harder and heavier headbanging fare, from stuff that evokes early '80s Ozzy to, slowing down, the chunky majesty of Trouble. Mostly, though, Hour Of 13's thick tones remind us of The Obsessed, and that whole "Maryland doom scene sound" (though they're from NC); they're also a bit like Lord Vicar, with the sadness and "Ozziness" factor in Swanson's voice being similar to Lord Vicar's singer Chritus. Way more sinister than stoner, this is though, keep that in mind. Hour Of 13 definitely venture into the dark side, psychologically, singing of demons that aren't entirely mythological. What might be the fastest song here, is also the longest, an almost 9 minute epic entitled "The Crawlspace", Swanson taking on the role, with perhaps unseemly relish, as perpetrator of an abduction/rape/murder scenario, and demonstrating that doom doesn't have to feature the anguished "vokills" of extra-o'd ultradooooom to be disturbing. We'd wanted to list this a while ago, but never could get enough, and then couldn't get any at all, but now that's all be solved 'cause this has just been reissued (and remastered) by good ol' Earache, having previously been an Eyes Like Snow/Northern Silence release last year. Glad to finally get it, to give it a recommendation for all you doom lovers out there.

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Another fantastic new release from our favorite horror movie soundtrack reissue label, Death Waltz, this one the creepy psychedelic soundtrack to Lucio Fulci's 1981 supernatural splatterfest House By The Cemetery, this time not scored by his longtime musical partner Fabio Frizzi, but instead, a fella by the name of Walter Rizzati, who previously was maybe best known for a handful of sexploitation comedies, but he adapts pretty darn well, delivering a very Frizzi like collection of dark swirling psychedelia, and organ heavy, phantasmic, almost Goblin-ish Italo-prog moodiness. It's been ages since we've seen House By The Cemetery, so the plot eludes us, it's a twisty tangly one like all Fulci movies, we do know there's a mysterious dead girl, a murdered woman, a strange locked cellar, and a Victorian surgeon who has been experimenting on humans to become immortal? And is hundred of years old? The liner notes say it's one of Fulci's more coherent plots, but fear not, it's still batshit insane! And totally worth seeing, as are all the movies Death Waltz tackles, besides rescuing amazing lost soundtracks, DW's reissue campaign is a great classic horror primer as well! Sonically, House By The Cemetery fits pretty well with past Frizzi / Fulci collaborations, Rizzati unfurling lilting melodies over darkly drifting bog-fog shimmer, heartfelt synths wreathed in reverb and echo, peppered with little piano flourishes, those gentle melodic moments balanced by tense and intense haunted house church organ fugues, as well as some darkly atmospheric psych prog. Creepy voices drift wraithlike over buzzing synths and twisted FX, swirling atmospheric proggy ambience gives way to almost symphonic swells, there's some heavy psych guitar too, flanged and freaky, but none of this is actual 'psychedelic rock' like some other scores we've dug recently, the guitars are woven into a much broader psychedelic sprawl. Although some tracks, like "Blonk Monster" (named for Izzati's co-composer Alessandro Blonksteiner) do have a seriously fuzzy psych guitar main riff, the song sounding like it could burst into hard rock at any moment, but instead, it splinters into dense swirling clouds of hazy psychedelic noise, cymbal shimmer and tranced out drones, before returning to that doomy riffy prog-psych creep. It's definitely the track we find ourselves returning to, but there are plenty more moments like that throughout. Needless to say, super recommended, and it definitely has us wanting to see the movie again too... Pressed on blood red vinyl, housed in a gorgeous jacket with stunning new artwork by artist Graham Humphreys, whose new art is definitely in keeping with the spirit of classic Italian horror movie posters. On the back of the jacket are some killer shots from the movies as well as extensive liner notes on the back cover, about the score and the film. Inside is a 12" x 12" print of the cover art, as well as a massive fold out poster version as well. And more notes on the printed inner sleeve from Humphreys about his inspiration for the artwork. And as always, EXTREMELY LIMITED!!

We had never heard of House Of Lightning, but who can resist a sticker that says: Members of Floor, Cavity & Dove? Not us that's for sure. And we're guessing plenty of you as well. And it only took about 30 seconds to convince us that we were right to not resist. The Sound is immediately recognizable as that sort of Torche style sludge/pop heaviness, but if anything, HoL is way weird, simultaneously more punk, and MORE METAL. It's strange but the first song explodes into a punk rock gallop, before devolving into some classic metal riffery, plenty of chugs, and pick squeals, and double kick drumming, it's not hard to imagine some wailing air raid siren vocals, but instead, it gets all math metal, a churning, roiling sonic swirl. The second track too, is a weird mix of ethereal wispy vocals, draped over wild progged out drumming, and furious helicopter riffing, the song so intricate and mathy, at times it almost sounds like a wild chaotic jumble, that is until it all manages to fall perfectly into place, and those dreamy drifty vocals swoop back in, for some shoegazey metalpop, before once again, fracturing into some proggy tech-metal. Imagine Breadwinner or Don Caballero mixed with a little Cynic and a lot of Torche, sounds like a weird mix, and it is definitely pretty weird, but it sorta works. In fact as much as we love Torche, from what we've heard of the new one, House Of Lightning is WAY weirder and trippier and more experimental, and is pushing lots of our math metal and weirdo prog buttons, while remaining just poppy enough to be impossibly catchy, even amidst all this tangled weird time signatured freak out. And as you get deeper into the record, the sound get even more varied and twisted, at one point the sound gets all super melodic, the bass CRANKED so much so, that it's like the lead instrument, all the while, the rest of the band is spitting out metallic mathiness just beneath the surface, that bass resurfaces on the B side, as the sound gets briefly super doomy, before erupting into more noisepop-techmetal mayhem, catchy and crunchy, shredding and soaring. Comes in a full color jacket, with a heavy printed inner sleeve. Pressed on clear green vinyl, but sadly no download, and thus, no sound samples.

Aaron Turner should win some sort of award or something. He's not only the leader of post-rock metalcore masters Isis, and also one of the contributors to the genius of both Old Man Gloom and Lotus Eaters, but he also runs the excellent Hydra Head label, AND never fails to buy stacks of stuff here at Aquarius whenever he's in town. Not only that, but his art and graphics have graced some of our other favorite releases of late. So of course we're happy to present this new 2nd album from House of Low Culture, another outfit featuring Aaron and friends, including other members of Isis, Old Man Gloom and Lotus Eaters. HoLC is in fact probably closest to the droned-out ambient sounds of Lotus Eaters. Unsettling, illusory soundscapes, haunted and desolate. Edwards Lament! starts off in a realm of industrial, boiler room drone, before ghostly strummed guitars infiltrate the mix. Their distorted, slowly unfolding melodies are buried in shallow grave of reverb, accompanied by backwards-tape-fuckery, low-end rumble, echoey effects, dragging chains... You'll hear some voices, but this remains a mostly instrumental affair, and an extremely sombre one. We don't know who Edward is, or what it is he's lamenting, but this does sound sad. Weirdly, while not overtly 'Americana' or at all 'country', somehow this still does keep making us think of an abstract, phantom echo of Woven Hand or Souled American. Maybe Edward counts Blind Joe Death among his friends.

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Been a good long while since we've heard from House of Low Culture, the droney side project of Isis / Hydra Head main man Aaron Turner, and we only managed to get 10 of these so we won't go into too much detail, since odds are they'll be gone in a flash. LIMITED TO ONLY 50 COPIES!!! Each one hand numbered, hand assembled, each one with a unique cover, made from random pages from a magazine, each with a printed obi, and wrapped in a plastic bag sealed with a sticker. Two extended tracks, recorded live at the Knitting Factory in Los Angeles in 2007, mastered by James Plotkin, guitars, loops and tapes, woven into sprawling buzzing droning soundscapes, the first all long tones, slow shifting layers, melodic fragments drifting beneath warm low end swells, peppered with the zing of a zither like metallic shimmer. Tones like sirens wail in the distance, the pitches gradually increasing, the tension building, like the scariest part of some Italian horror movie. The second a snarling mass of blown out distortion and crumbling heaviness, thick sheets of effected guitars, processed low end, all roiling and churning and pulsing and throbbing, buried beneath it, what sounds like howled voices, seriously intense and caustic, noisy and thick and dense, but still textured and droney and weirdly soothing. Again we only got TEN COPIES out of FIFTY, so if you want one gotta be quick on the trigger.

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

SORRY. Ultra limited live document of Aaron Turner's (Isis, Old Man Gloom, Hydra Head) minimal ambient outfit House Of Low Culture. This one sided lp is 20+ minutes of lowercase rumble and barely there thrum, interrupted only by a brief track of staticky buzz, sounding a bit like droning electronic bagpipes. Subtley gorgeous. And as always, superbly packaged, this time on blue vinyl with flowers and spiders silkscreened in blue over in a gold sleeve. Wow! Be warned, this is very limited so we're not sure how long we will have this or if we can get more. Also be warned that as with a lot of picture discs of late (Table Of The Elements?), these 12"s are housed in those brittle hard plastic sleeves that more often than not, split or crack.

It's been a while since we've heard from House Of Low Culture, the one man experimental / drone / soundscaping project of Aaron Turner, he of Hydra Head Records, Sige Records, Mammifer, Isis, Twilight, etc. This one man band, now augmented by Turner's wife Faith Coloccia, has definitely blossomed into something much more abstract and minimal, at least in the opening few minutes. After some haunting monk-like vocal chants, the sounds unfurls as a super minimal expanse of barely audible sine waves, distant rumbling thrum, streaks of shortwave static, seemingly gone are the creeping low end dronedrifts of early HOLC records, the sound here is way more academic, think John Duncan or Francisco Lopez, there are some fragmented melodic moments, but sans headphones, this might be an impossible listen in a world full of ambient sounds. But the tracks here are long, so there is lots of ground to cover, and after about 6 minutes, some guitar drifts into the picture, but just barely, it's not for another few minutes, until the song proper begins, and weirdly it's a strange sort of slowcore doom, all minimal drumming, super distorted crooned vox, somber melodies, it's like a super abstract experimental Codeine, which is definitely a good thing. The rest of the record flits from hushed shimmer, to squalls of caustic noise and back again, before leading into the second track, which again begins life as a hushed glitch laced drift, before thick droned out guitars and more crooned vox surface, and then the song explodes into some strange sort of abstract pop, but very briefly, and rendered in shades of grey and black and skree, before slipping back into long stretches of deep thrum and staticky buzz, all underpinned by a muted percussive rhythm and some softly swirling disembodied vocals and gristly minimal effects. The record finishes off with the 21+ minute "Inappropriate Body", which begins with some almost playful sounding percussion, still wreathed in crackle and static, only to give way to more drift and blur, more near silence, and pizzicato melodies, strange bursts of garbled voices, bits of skree, and more chantlike vocals, blasts of whitenoise, lush choral drifts, and finally some creeping slo-mo metallich churn, the track more like some music concrete meander, an expansive abstract sonic exploration, loosely woven into some sort of avant sonic narrative that may have Isis fans and Hydra Head obsessives scratching their chins, but has the rest of us laying in the dark, headphones strapped on tight. Gorgeous super minimal packaging too.

MPEG stream: Spoiled Fruits Of The Kingdom
MPEG stream: The Ladder That Leads To Nowhere

NOW ON VINYL!! Limied to 500 copies, each one hand numbered... Fantastic split release from this husband and wife duo, Aaron Turner, he of Isis, Hydra Head, and of course his solo project House Of Low Culture, and Faith Collocia, and her Mamiffer project (which also occasionally features Turner). Mamiffer is up first, and their offering is a single 12+ minute track, constructed from piano, synthesizer, organ, tapes, field recordings, percussion, bass and effects, and it's a beauty. Stately piano drifts atop a bed of smoldering shimmer and minimal low end thrum, haunting and hazy and a little ominous, soundtracky and cinematic, the piano eventually fading out, leaving a gauzy bit of layered drift, laced with muffled explosive booms, the organ gradually swelling up from the murk and mire, building into a squall of soft psychedelic noise, before fading out once again, leaving that strange reverbed boom, to ring out into empty black space. House Of Low Culture is mostly Turner, but here he's joined by his wife on guitar, and legendary percussionist Z'EV on, well, percussion. A hushed black ambient creep, drifting beneath dramatic multitracked vocals, everything wreathed in thick undulating black buzz, the sound switching from ambient soft noise to the vocal parts, that sound downright new wave/post punky, but those two elements bleed into each other, creating something more than its constituent parts, the track smoothes out, and becomes more and more ethereal, leaving just piano, to float in a field of hushed near silence, stately and mysterious and quite lovely, it's not until the last couple minutes that the tranquility fractures, and the fissure unleashes a cloud of noxious, crumbling distortion, and heaving blacknoise, which too fractures and peels back leaving a brief bit of clean guitar riffing and then nothing at all.

MPEG stream: Uncrossing
MPEG stream: Ice Mole

Ti West's 2009 homage to classic horror/slasher flicks, in which a babysitter discovers her clients have plans to sacrifice her in a satanic ritual, a la Rosemary's Baby, is the latest modern motion picture to get the deluxe Death Waltz treatment, more often reserved for horror classics from yesteryear. But it works, since House Of The Devil is in fact modeled after the horror classics that came before, right down to the score, by Jeff Grace, whose scores for Trigger Man and the Roost we reviewed and raved about back on list 423. For HOTD, Grace goes all out, even down to the cheesy eighties style rock groove that opens the proceedings, a theme that sound like it was plucked right from some lost '80s VHS tape. The rest of the score is appropriately spare and creepy, haunting and moody and minor key, the most striking compositional element being the use of prepared piano, to add an even stranger vibe to the proceedings, the piano parts almost percussive, the notes almost metallic, ringing out in fields of hushed shimmer, slow, smoldering sprawls of sinister sonic malevolence alongside hazy, haunting drones, delicate chamber music amidst swirling strings, and dense atonal orchestral swells. A very classic sounding score for sure, that manages to sound both modern and classic, and more importantly, conjure up some serious heebie jeebies. And like all Death Waltz releases, the label went all out, killer new artwork from Tom Hodge, liner noted from Grace himself, a big full color poster, and a Japanese style obi, with still more notes about the music itself. Oh, and pressed on blood red vinyl!

This record by the oddly monikered House Reverends was shrouded in secrecy when we first got copies, subtle hints as to the membership, references to obscure UK groups / collectives, never mentioned by name, and when we did find out who was behind this twisted slab of lo-fi outsider weirdo RnB, we have to say we never would have guessed. We thought about leaving everybody in the lurch, but this is in fact, a sort of Shit And Shine offshoot, featuring at least one member of that multiple drummered noise rock crew, but don't be expecting ANYthing like $&$ here. Instead, this is a collection of old cassette jams, improvised and recorded onto a 4-track using just drum machine, synthesizer, sampler and vocoder, and given those ingredients, it could have gone either way, totally tripped out avant psychedelia, or THIS, a warped, but still pretty straight, crooned RnB. Sounds scary, but give it a chance, you just might like it. Warbly organs, vocodered vox, minimal programmed beats, a twisted electro pop with vocals that sound like an alternate universe Justin Timberlake, albeit a much more raw and low fidelity JT, all over squelchy bass, stuttery grooves, pulsing beats, those croony vocals slipping occasionally into almost cookie monster like gurgles. But fear not, peppered throughout are some sweet experimental jams, like the skittery low rider groove of "Hype", with it's rad stuttery pitch shifted samples, or the sped up soul of "Close And Personal", which sounds like Burial at 78, and really, that's what a lot of the record sounds like, a less murky, muted Burial, but the same sort of roots in classic soul, just filtered through lots of underground murk. There's plenty more going on too, eighties style electro, funky handclap rhythms, John Carpenter-like synth grooves, and a super beautiful almost choral sounding closer, that is easily the prettiest thing here, but for the most part, the House Reverends are all about the lo-fi electro soul murky RnB weirdness, and we dig it! LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!!! Housed in super swank hand screened sleeves.

Damn. This is just amazing, another winner from Monk, compiling 8 different Delta blues greats on two lps, with the central focus on the mighty Son House. House's seven cuts here are from a legendary 1930 session in Grafton, Wisconsin for Paramount that also recorded Charley Patton, Willie Brown (also featured here), and Louise Johnson. It's pretty unbelievable to imagine these titans of American music all piling into a car in Mississippi and making the trip up to Wisconsin, but what is even more awesome is the music itself. These recordings capture House at his absolute prime, which is saying a lot considering what a force he remained throughout his many years. The level of intensity cuts right through Paramount's substandard recording quality, with House's former preacher voice booming over his expert slide playing, sounding like the toughest son of a bitch on the block and making so much else sound flat out weak in comparison. While Son House will most likely be the main selling point for this, the other bluesmen are no slouches. Rube Lacy offers two tracks of classic Mississippi blues, mournful and propelled by a steady rhythm, while the obscure Kid Bailey's only two recordings are featured here, detailing a masterful understanding of his craft. Willie Brown is perhaps most famous for being namechecked in Robert Johnson's "Crossroad Blues", while some have speculated that he might actually be Kid Bailey. His "M & O Blues" and "Future Blues" are the only two sides known to exist from a total of six, and they are certainly worthy of their legendary status. Brown's gravelly voice and harmonically rich guitar playing were perfected from years playing side to others (including House, Patton, and Johnson), but there is no question that he stands as a powerful and assured soloist on these tunes. Garfield Akers' four cuts (also his only known recordings) show off his clear, higher register vocals which often soar to an amazing yelp over his nonstop strumming, in which his chords almost seem to float. His two part "Cottonfield Blues" also feature second guitar from his pal Mississippi Joe Callicott, who contributes two songs himself. Jim Thompkins, another Delta enigma, is featured on "Bedside Blues", one of only two known recordings, while Blind Joe Reynolds (sometimes known as Blind Willie Reynolds and other names to remain one step ahead of the law), shows off his prowess with a bottleneck slide to go with a highly focused and intense vocal delivery. Some of you may have trouble keeping up with the sheer output of labels like Monk and Mississippi, but this comp stands out as a prime collection of classic blues that will appeal to anyone with even the slightest interest. If you don't know where to start, look no further.

Easily the best album from this Seattle psyche-rock outfit, as their new drummer adds a far more propulsive element to the incendiary psychedelic guitar freakouts.

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

SORRY.

Latest from this master of murky psychedelic slo-mo soul, and while we were expecting another batch of that distinctive HTDW warped and warbly lo-fi soul music, all ghostly and spectral and otherworldly, this 4 song 10" has definitely thrown us for a loop. It's still soul, just not really slo-mo, in fact, the three part title track sounds more like something you'd hear from Antony & The Johnsons, lush, piano driven, with soaring strings, and dreamy falsetto vox, if anything, this proves that HTDW can really sing, cuz this is all about his voice, and the lush accompaniment only adds drama and emotion, just gorgeous soulful pop, the songs stately and elegant, building to seriously cathartic climaxes, the third part is the most intense, a fantastic slab of lush chamber soul, a little bit hazy and softly psychedelic, but other than some reverb it still seems mostly unadorned, but really, it doesn't need anything else. The final track is about as close as things get to the more murky, witchy HTDW sound, and takes the strings from the title track, and those gorgeous vox, and adds a bit of murk, some subtly twisted effects, a cool skeletal hand clap rhythm, the Prince like vocals settled amidst the blurred dreamy soul, a perfect ending to a surprising, and surprisingly satisfying sonic detour, which has us wondering if this is a one off, or if the new full length might offer more of this less twisted murky sound, either way, we're psyched to hear more. LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES, but almost sold out. These may be the last copies we can get. Housed in a super swank sleeve, thick textured paper, with embossed lettering.

This just might be the coolest, weirdest sort-of-soul record EVER. It took us a while to check this out though, because once again, we found ourselves being overly resistant to popular consensus, our first impulse when super hyped records are concerned, is to assume that for whatever reason, people have been fooled into digging something due to above mentioned extreme hype, hell we've definitely fallen for that before. Or at the very least, we sometimes think, whatever record it is, it's probably not nearly as good as people are making it out to be. Cuz really, how super original and interesting and fucked up and far out could something be and still manage to appeal to folks not normally into things fucked up and far out? Apparently plenty. And that said, we LOVE to proven wrong, and boy should we have checked this out sooner. This is a gloriously mysterious and murky collection of druggy, psychedelic, slow-mo soul, long expanses of crackly drones, and what sounds like R&B 45's spinning at 16rpm, wheezing synths, reverbed shimmer, deep sinister basslines, hazy ambience, crumbling distortion, stuttery loops, stripped down skeletal beats, and some gorgeously washed out soulful vox. All wrapped in thick swaths of gauzy hum and shimmer, blurred and smeared and washed out, totally ghostlike and spectral, but still so goddamn soulful. Similar to the soul infused dubstep of Burial, HTDW create these gorgeous little chunks of soulful slow motion drift, those heavily effected and distorted falsetto vox hovering over warped and warbly bits of muted melody, female vox offer up plenty of oooh's and aaaah's, the voices choral and angelic, seeming to fade into a softly roiling swirl muted blackness in the background, swaths of mumbled low end throb and pulse and undulate dreamily, there are bits of piano, haunting and elegiac, the arrangements are delicate, the sound impossibly lush, alien and otherworldly, but so darkly familiar and emotional and intimate, the sound equal parts Antony And the Johnsons, Pop Ambience, the warped warble of witch house, the twisted popsmithery of folks like Ariel Pink, the deep stuttery soulfulness of Burial and other likeminded dubsteppers and of course classic old time soul, all melted down into a thick sonic morass, that oozes and flows, a glacial, sun dappled, moonlit, lysergic soulful psychedelic murk, that while indeed muted and muddy and blurry and bleary, still manages to glow, and pulse, emitting rays of sonic light, this is not miserable music, for all its ghostly abstraction and mysterious darkness, the music of How To Dress Well is gorgeous, and romantic, and full of life, and energy, and emotion.

MPEG stream: You Hold The Water
MPEG stream: Ready For The World
MPEG stream: My Body
MPEG stream: Suicide Dream 2

Given the bands the two Howard Hello guys have been or are currently in, you wouldn't think that they'd come up with a record like this. The duo is comprised of Kenseth Thibideau (multi-instrumentalist who has wielded the bass for local mathrockers Rumah Sakit First you hear Kenseth's very warm and pretty John-Fahey-ish fingerpicked guitar. Then, almost imperceptibly, the folksiness gradually, in Marty's fine hands, starts looping onto itself, or running glissandos between notes, or sounding like it's skipping. The glitches are very carefully handled, so they call less attention to themselves and more to the texture of the music they're effecting. On later tracks the studio (laptop?) treatments are more pronounced, batting the notes around like ping pong balls while a layer of organs and bass anchor the tracks in ever-present lushness. As occasional embellishments there is the lilting, heavenly voice of Wendy Allen (also heard on Tarentel albums), Marty's keening falsetto, and the welcome sounds of traffic and the outside world, reminding you there's a world out there outside the velvet ethereal one this record conjures in your head. You might consider this a perfect meeting of Fahey and Fennesz, if that had ever been accomplished (which it hasn't, but this comes close.) Bonus: The cover art by the truly amazing local artist Jeremiah Maddock, who presented his work here in 2001, the most popular art show AQ has ever hosted.

RealAudio clip: Television
RealAudio clip: Belief
RealAudio clip: America

RSI is another UK label trafficking in difficult and totally original electronic music (like countrymates Fflint Central). It's a shame that they only make cd-rs. I find it hard to believe they wouldn't be able to sell 1000 cds, but it hardly makes a difference, because this stuff is so good. This is fucking way out. Agonised wails of tortured souls buried underneth a suffocating layer of digital buzz/crapout littered with trashcan lid precussion. That's how it begins. And it never really lets up. Crazy and all over the place and totally original. Demented organs and horns battle malfunctioning drum machines spitting out inhuman and terminally unfunky rhythms. Sheets of high end skree and whirring harmonics punctuated by a barrage of peculiar sounding percussion: chirping bird snares, fist in the gut kick drums, and erratic cookie sheet clatter. And a track that sounds like they sampled some sort of post rock/fusion band playing in an airplane hanger, chopped it up and then unleashed an unholy plague of maniacal modems and renegade synths. This is some crazy shit. Recommended.

RealAudio clip: Appy Fracture
RealAudio clip: Fuck I

MPEG stream: Domiabra
MPEG stream: Ole Negro

From his dixieland roots in New Orleans in the 60's and continuing through to today, saxophonist Noah Howard has done the rounds of free music heavies, playing with Sun Ra, Art Ensemble of Chicago, Archie Shepp, Albert Ayler, and tons more. Like so many jazz musicians, he seems to be way better known in Europe than in the U.S. This recording, on Swedish label Ayler Records, finds Howard playing alto and tenor in Chicago with the help of Bobby Few on Piano, Wilber Morris on bass, and Calyer Duncan on drums. Helpfully translated from Swedish on the Ayler site: "He opens with a simple, kind of to the gallery melody on the alto saxophone. The other musicians back up. Tests his ideas and peels of the ephemeral of the music, its superficial beauty. In order to drill deeper, down towards one reflection of the music and its absolute being. Then everything closes to a new, beautiful syntheses."

RealAudio clip: Lightning Rod Part 2
RealAudio clip: Transition

MPEG stream: The Sound From There
MPEG stream: Bug Out

The Numero Group label starts 2007 on the softer side of things with this obscure British gem from singer Catherine Howe. For those of you who enjoyed the Wayfaring Strangers: Ladies Of The Canyon compilation, that the Numero Group released last year, then this might just be up your alley. Mellow and melancholic, Howe has a soulful voice that's similar to Dusty Springfield or Bobbie Gentry, underscored by soft orchestral jazz arrangements (courtesy of Bobby Scott) that remind us of early A&M records or John Cameron soundtracks like Kes. In fact this seems more like the kind of soft British album Trunk records would have re-issued, but that goes to show what an unpredictable label Numero Group really is. Recorded for Reflection Records in 1971, What A Beautiful Place sank into obscurity when the label folded shortly thereafter. While we have never heard of her before this, Howe recorded two more albums after this one and has recently started recording again. This is a perfect record for a rainy day or Sunday morning with a nice hot cup of tea.

MPEG stream: Up North
MPEG stream: What A Beautiful Place

This blues album had us sold on it already just by being by a guy named Peg Leg! That he's 'Legendary' is practically superfluous. Not to mention that this record comes to us via the always excellent blues/country/folk reissue vinyl label Sutro Park. So yeah, it's good, an album originally released in 1964 when Joshua "Peg Leg" Howell was about 75 years old. Peg Leg had begun his recording career back in the 1920s, when Columbia Records discovered him busking on the sidewalks of Atlanta Georgia. But he hadn't recorded anything since the '30s and in fact was presumed dead until being rediscovered again in the '60s. As documented on this lp, Peg Leg is an old bluesman returning to the songs of his youth, now wizened and wistful, as you might imagine a septuagenarian singing songs like "Jelly Roll Blues" and "Let Me Play With Your Yo-Yo" might be. Other tracks here include "Blood Red River", "Worried Blues", and "Skin Game Blues" to give you an idea of the vibe. Includes original liner notes and woodcut album art. 180 gram vinyl.

What's not to love about these guys (and gal)? Crushing, riff heavy grooves, sludgey, and Southern sounding (even though they're from Rhode Island), downtuned, low slung, brutal, but weirdly catchy too, with a bit of a post rock vibe here and there, totally headbangable and epic. If you had to situate Howl sonically, they would probably fall somewhere between Baroness, High On Fire, Soilent Green, and Sleep, you get the drift, a sort of stonery Sabbathy sludge, that doesn't wallow in tarpit tempos, but instead bulldozes through dense clouds of grinding buzz, slipping from midtempo crush to woozy metallic swing, to blasting thrashing pummel, the drums like battering rams, the guitars murky and muddy, with occasional bursts of psychedelic leads, that help balance the band's predominant low low low end, the vocals a monstrous bellow, all that wound into churning, almost proggy arrangements, some of the moments recall the heaving might of Neurosis, while others, channel classic metal into something way more dark and dirgey, the whole record is a headspinning, neck snapping riff fest, but the final track, "The Day Of Rest" might be our favorite, the slowest and most sprawling of the bunch, slipping from serpentine Sabbathy slither to cool start stop ultra dynamic lurch and lumber, to almost Maideny melodicism, churning chug underpinned by pounding double kick drumming, while guitars harmonize over the top, before getting almost shoegazey near the end, finally winding down with some droned out layered guitar feedback. Fuck Yeah.

MPEG stream: Horns Of Steel
MPEG stream: You Jackals Beware
MPEG stream: Gods In Broken Men

Record number two from Howlin' Magic, and it's all about more howlin', more magic too if you're as enchanted by this brand of blown-out blooze as we are. Lo-fi and lovin' it. Is this the first non-Finnish release on the Lal Lal Lal label? Well Howlin' Magic fits right in with the usual Finnish weirdness even though they're just from just down Santa Cruz way, and by they we mean he, 'cause Howlin' Magic is a one man band. Imagine ol' Hasil Adkins playing stuff that sounds more like old Comets On Fire. Such insane all-instrumental shambolic stomp, with a mystic sci-fi hippieish vibe reflected in such song titles as "Voltron", "Quantum", and "The Universe Is Love". As with the first album from Howlin' Magic (not to be confused with Howlin' Rain, by the way!), this is for those who love psychedelic geetar excess, a la everything from Acid Mothers Temple to Michael Yonkers... freakin' recommended!

MPEG stream: Thanaton III
MPEG stream: Mac And Bloo
MPEG stream: Lord Jagannath

Wow... A shit storm of fuzzed out psychedelic excess, distortion-to-the-death stomping and tromping over everything in sight. And that's just track one, of ten that are equally intense. "Howlin' Magic" though?? Hmm, we're not too stoked on the name. But...wow. On second thought, maybe the name works, Howlin' Magic, sure, that makes us think of a psychedelic wizard who has released energies almost beyond his/her control, multicolored fireballs backblasting in an outrageous sorcerous snafu. Quite the fireworks display. Survive or not, it's a spectacle indeed. Yeah, it fits their sound, wherein feedback shards carve clarity from the sheets of white noise amp abuse. We can only imagine an orgy of effects pedals, coupled in polymorphous perversity. The band isn't scaling the mountain, they're making the mountain. A mountain of abused amps and battered guitars. The sticker on the front proclaims Howlin' Magic's affinity with the Japanese scene of garage psych madmen like High Rise, Mainliner, and Acid Mothers Temple at their most extreme. In the red, blown out insanity. Further comparisons could be made to such acts as the Dead C, Comets On Fire, The Heads, Grey Daturas, Aufgehoben, Shit and Shine, Residual Echoes, White Hills, Burnt Hills, Wolf Eyes, Midnight Snake, and others who ought to be required to file an environmental impact statement before they plug in their amps and guitars...

MPEG stream: Superpower
MPEG stream: Acid Lightning Strike
MPEG stream: Spacetime

Not as good as the first one, and we weren't too wild about that one either. We prefer Ethan in Comets On Fire, but maybe that's just us...

It would seem that the idea behind Howlin Rain, featuring members of Comets On Fire (guitarist/vocalist Ethan Miller) and Sunburned Hand Of The Man (drummer John Moloney), is to be a total California-style hippy throwback rural rock n' roll band, like from the late '60s or early '70s. Think Creedence, Quicksilver, Crazy Horse, and The Dead. They do a pretty good job of it -- these sprawling songs are all full of strummin' sunshine and scented smoke and even some swingin' saxophone. Ethan's raggedy whiskey voice (very Rod Stewart, actually) sounds just perfect for this, whilst the band choogles authentically. Or gets mellow, very mellow. But don't worry, just when you think maybe they're just getting a little bit -too- laid back and melodic, Ethan will unleash some truly fucked, utterly obliterating noisy psych guitar to remind you that he's the dude from Comets On Fire after all. Those fuzzy guitar freakouts are really what makes this work for us, actually, and keeps this from being, uh, just an underground Black Crowes. We're reminded (to make a reference probably not too many folks will be familiar with, sorry) of Slap Happy Humphrey, the Japanese band that combined acoustic '70s folk with blasts of Japanoise guitar mayhem courtesty Jojo Hiroshige of Hijokaidan. This isn't -that- extreme but it's the same general idea, as also applied by Japanese psych acts like Nagisa Ni Te and Shizuka. Howlin indeed.

MPEG stream: Calling Lightening With A Scythe
MPEG stream: The Hanging Heart

[ aquarius records catalogue — H ]