A few lists back you might remember that we highlighted the elegant and moody solo 4-track recordings of J.P. Shilo. As we mentioned before, he had last been heard from in the late '90s with this group The Hungry Ghosts. Known as John Brooks during that time, he along with his two bandmates were responsible for one of the better and most overlooked records of the '90s. Sharing a similar sound and scope as their neighbors The Dirty Three, these are instrumentals that speak volumes about isolation, yearning, vastness and beauty. It makes you feel like you are out in an endless open field with Ennio Morricone carefully creating musical tension out on the horizon. The perfect late night driving record. Sweeping fender guitars, splashes of organ, fiddle, accordion and varied tuned percussion. A record that sounds just as Australian as it does like the old west or even Middle Eastern or Southeast Asian. Ten years later and Alone Alone still makes us freeze in our footsteps every time we hear it. Something so pure about its sadness, about its hope and about its beauty. Time has come for this record to get its well deserved moment in the spotlight!
From the obi: "Born in Waco, Texas, Jerry Hunt was a friend of Jack Ruby, a pianist in strip clubs, a student of the occult and the founder of his own mailorder church at the age of 15. Jerry Hunt was also one of the great pioneers of live electronic music. Very much a modern-day shaman, he designed most of his own equipment and used it in ways to create backdrops for his own magical performances that referred to, among many other things, exotic ritual, the esoteric traditions of Rosicrucianism, Aleister Crowley and modern science. The SongDrapes were some of Jerry's last and greatest creations, and feature vocalists Karen Finley, Shelley Hirsch and Mike Patton."
We caught a fleeting introductory glimpse of Ms Jana Hunter recently when she appeared on a split LP with Mr. Devendra Banhart. We were immediately struck by just how much her voice bore a striking resemblance to his. In fact, we had to double-check to make sure it was indeed her singing. Now on her own on this full length collection of her music from the past ten years (but still in the company of Banhart in other ways, this was released on the new label he runs with Andy Cabic of Vetiver), does that still hold true or was it simply a proximity issue? Well, we can say that although Ms Jana Hunter does occasionally affect a peculiarly familiar, charming lilt when she sings, she does sound quite a bit different (from both Banhart and herself on that split release), but not incongruously so. The first song "All The Best Wishes" has an aged recording sound that brings her closer to Jolie Holland in old tymey feel (this haunted, echo-y feel resurfaces later on in the tenth song "The Angle"), but her actual performance also recalls Cat Power's Chan Marshall in its achingly personal intimacy. Quite a first impression. Not at all unexpectedly, Blank Unstaring Heirs Of Doom nestles in well alongside the neo-folk works of Banhart, Holland, Vetiver, Cocorosie and Joanna Newsom... and Cat Power too. Be sure to stick around for the closing track "K". It's a casiotone-y sweetie!
A sweet little ep of three demo tracks from Jana Hunter's last full length, There Is No Home and three brand new tracks. It's nice to hear the older tracks in more stripped down and lo-fi form showcasing her agile songwriting abilities, while at the same time giving us a fix of new songs to pass the time before her next sure-to-be-wonderful full length.
This sophomore album for Gnomonsong shows Jana Hunter in fine form. Moving away from the folky 4-track recordings of her debut, the songs on There Is No Home have a catchier and more powerful indie rock feel to them yet without too much unnecessary polish. Sure the influence of older Cat Power (especially Dear Sir) and PJ Harvey is still evident, but it stills sounds fresh and maybe even better than what Cat Power is doing right now, so who can fault it. A lot of these wonderful songs stay stuck in our heads for days. Nice!
Sixth full length from one of San Francisco's treasures: Sonya Hunter. Sonya is a singer songwriter whose music is like a cool drink of water. Her calm, unhurried, super melodic style reminds me of Aimee Mann, her phrasing and slight melancholy is similar to fellow SF gal-with-guitar Barbara Manning, and her clear, unblinking strength brings to mind Linda Thompson and folk/rock singers of the '60s. Includes a lovely Buffy Saint Marie cover. Nice.
Some of the power metal nerds around aQ (okay, just one) had anxiously been awaiting this release, partially based on the ridiculous big budget video for the first single that had been making the YouTube rounds, but also, cuz of how much vitriol had been directed at the band based entirely on their lead vocalist, a busty blonde former stripper (we assume?), who dresses in crazy revealing outfits and smears herself with warpaint and blood, and well, if you're not with us already, thinking, hell, that sounds like an awesome metal band frontwoman, well, then you're probably not gonna dig this regardless of what we say. One could make the argument that one might perhaps rather watch a beautiful busty blonde up there on stage instead of a hairy shirtless dude, and one has, repeatedly, but most of the metalheads we know just weren't having it.
But you know what? Fuck it, this shit rips, and whatever problem you have with vocalist Jill Janus' image, and her fake boobs, she's a total babe, and cuts a seriously impressive figure up there all draped in furs and covered in blood, and more importantly she's got a killer voice, equally capable of singing melodically, and shrieking demonically, and at times chirping maniacally, apparently she was a trained opera singer and has something like a 4 octave range, and it definitely sounds like it. And then there's the band, shit, crazy tight, super heavy, furious riffing, crushing drumming, with wild shredding solos, killer classic harmonized leads, the songs intricate and progged out, mathy and power metally, but also sort of speed/thrash metal with hints of classic NWOBHM, which might all be less surprising when you realize that one of the guys in Huntress used to play Skeltonwitch.
Just check out the video for Eight Of Swords: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SKELDVRJDY&ob=av3e
If that doesn't sell you, we're not sure if anything will...
There was a lot of drama around the release of Huntress' debut Spell Eater, most of it focused on front woman Jill Janus, who besides having a sick vokill style, equal parts raspy metallic howl, and old school classic metal croon, also happened to be kinda super hot, a busty blonde usually dressed in furs and medieval bikinis and adorned in blood and warpaint, some metalheads seems put off by it, but to be honest, we're still not entirely sure why, especially when coupled with Huntress' ripping metal, which on that first record fused classic NWOBHM-isms with more modern thrash, the band does after all feature an ex-member of Skeletonwitch after all. Which means intricate and proggy power metal infused speed metal, which of course means if you liked Skeletonwitch, just imagine that band fronted by a bad ass metal chick with a voice that kills. What's not to love? Exactly.
So here's record number two, and right out of the gate, we're even more smitten, mostly, cuz they seem to have slowed things down, and pushed their sound even more in a retro classic eighties metal direction, in fact opener "Blood Sisters" totally sounds like a proper eighties metal jam, Janus doing her best Doro from Warlock, with super melodic leads, kick ass chugging old school riffage, and a KILLER chorus, the sort of chorus you probably haven't heard since the eighties, and it suits them, it was after all what for us at least made Huntress more than just another new metal band, that old school classic metal vibe, but here it's huge, "Blood Sisters" is maybe our favorite Huntress track so far, but then hot on the heels of that jam, comes the provocatively titled "I Want To Fuck You To Death", with lyrics by none other than Lemmy from Motorhead, not sure if it's meant to be a love song TO Janus, or written FOR her from her perspective, but Huntress give it the proper slightly Motorheady classic metal musical backdrop, and again, the vibe is total eighties metal, sounding like a track some band from the era might have written for the soundtrack of some low budget horror movie (Trick Or Treat? Black Roses?), which is not a bad thing at all. It's a sound we LOVE, and these guys (and gal) do it so well. And while we kept expecting their to be more modern thrash happening, like they would suddenly explode into some Skeletonwitch worthy crush like the first record, instead, they stick to their classic eighties metal guns, and it rules! Fans of Warlock, Lita Ford, Acid, Girlschool and old school eighties style metal will definitely dig big time! Bonus track: a cover of "Running Wild" by Judas Priest!
As hard as we tried, we were never able to get in all the 7" singles that Hunx & His Punx released on labels like Bachelor, Shattered House, True Panther and Bubbledum, since Hunx began recording with his Punx while his other band Gravy Train! was on an indefinite hiatus. So we were so psyched to find that True Panther was compiling all those 7"s on a single lp, and since they're are all pretty much already out of print, so this might be your only chance to get all those tracks. Appropriately titled Gay Singles, the cover features an eye popping close up of a zebra stripe jockey clad crotch.
Hot on the heels of a long tour he's just embarked on supporting Jay Reatard, we're so excited that Hunx & His Punx gets to spread his amazingly flamboyant and sexy spirit and pure garage pop and punk perfection to a wider audience. A total student/lover of all things popular culture, Seth Bogart (aka Hunx) has become such a master of infusing his songs with playful and seductive themes, crafting killer pop jams, displaying plenty of tongue in cheek lyrics and a whole lot of skin, yet this is not just some kind of joke rock, as there is a really great understanding of true pop music, girl group sound and power pop and Ramones style punk rock. So damn catchy and loaded with innuendo and sex appeal that's sure to create a party anywhere and anytime these punx perform (or even just get blasted on your boombox!). So damn fun!
With all the great music they've put out it's easy to forget that Hunx & His Punx had still not put out a proper full length until now. With Too Young To Be In Love, Hunx shows he's not just good only for singles but that he can keep the momentum up and fun flowing for a whole full length record. His love of girl groups shines so bright in these songs as you can hear how the sounds of The Crystals, The Shangri Las, and The Ronettes are given such respect as they are channeled through a gay punk's point of view. With great back-up vocals from some fine ladies including Shannon from Shannon & The Clams, this is a record that gives you all the hand claps, high energy, and tales of heartbreak that you want in a great pop record. "The Curse Of Being Young" might just be Hunx's finest song yet as it for sure will be a contender for favorite pop song of the year, and luckily everything else on the album stands near that level of pop excellence.
Yay! Now on cd, this previously vinyl-only collection from last year, here's what we wrote about that, then:
As hard as we tried, we were never able to get in all the 7" singles that Hunx & His Punx released on labels like Bachelor, Shattered House, True Panther and Bubbledum, since Hunx began recording with his Punx while his other band Gravy Train! was on an indefinite hiatus. So we were so psyched to find that True Panther was compiling all those 7"s on a single lp, and since they're are all pretty much already out of print, so this might be your only chance to get all those tracks. Appropriately titled Gay Singles, the cover features an eye popping close up of a zebra stripe jockey clad crotch.
Hot on the heels of a long tour he's just embarked on supporting Jay Reatard, we're so excited that Hunx & His Punx gets to spread his amazingly flamboyant and sexy spirit and pure garage pop and punk perfection to a wider audience. A total student/lover of all things popular culture, Seth Bogart (aka Hunx) has become such a master of infusing his songs with playful and seductive themes, crafting killer pop jams, displaying plenty of tongue in cheek lyrics and a whole lot of skin, yet this is not just some kind of joke rock, as there is a really great understanding of true pop music, girl group sound and power pop and Ramones style punk rock. So damn catchy and loaded with innuendo and sex appeal that's sure to create a party anywhere and anytime these punx perform (or even just get blasted on your boombox!). So damn fun!
Oohh la la! Hunx made his first colorful and sassy splash as a member of ultra fun Kill Rock Stars outfit Gravy Train, but in fact he's been contributing to D.I.Y culture ever since he was a young teenager making some of the most amusing and amazing zines we've ever read (if you are ever lucky enough to find his zine about Applebees by all means grab it!).
While it seems that Gravy Train have gone on hiatus, that break has spawned two awesome offshoots as Chunx (Brontez) started his own scrappy garage pop project The Younger Lovers and Hunx has been blasting out saucy, catchy and irresistible bedroom garage pop gems of his own with his new project Hunx And His Punx. Taking inspiration from girl groups, John Waters films and a hot vintage queer aesthetic complete with unzipped black leather jackets and lots of skin, Hunx is truly one of the few out and proud folks making waves in what was until recently a really stale garage pop scene. But wow has that changed in the last year or two as folks like Brilliant Colors, Wavves, Ty Segall, Dum Dum Girls, and more have injected much needed heaps of fresh energy and wild vibes into the scene. Hunx And His Punx lean much more towards the bubble gum side of garage pop in the best way. Kind of like if a young Fred Schneider jammed out Ronettes covers. "Teardrops On My Telephone" could have been the perfect soundtrack to one of those early Kenneth Anger short films. While others who try to inject humor and sass into their pop usually fall so flat, Hunx has the ability to make songs that are as charmingly goofy as they are catchy.
We slept on the now way out of print and wonderfully scandalous scratch and sniff 7" so grab one of these before they too are gone for good.
This trio of Danish freaks delved into the psychedelic, progressive styles of the day (1971) to produce this underground hard rock artifact, now reissued via Akarma in one of their trademark gatefold cd sleeves, like a minature version of the original vinyl packaging. Hurdy Gurdy were a "heavy" band, in the '60s sense -- there's more Hendrix than Black Sabbath here. Their repertoire is quite varied/inconsistent, from catchy vocal numbers to convoluted hard rockin' instrumentals. One track is a great, folky sitar-driven rock raga a la the Incredible String Band, but others are Cream-y electric blues numbers. All boast suitably far-out lyrix. File with Captain Beyond, Toad, High Tide, and similar hard rock obscurities of the era.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Intricate imploded almost-emo from Pittsburg. [/cat/h39.html]
Now these are the sounds we've been waiting for! From reading our lists it may appear that we aren't big -modern- jazz enthusiasts as there usually aren't tons of newer jazz titles on our lists, but the truth is just not much of the newer sounds coming from the jazz underground really excite us, or maybe we're not hearing 'em. Of course there are some exceptions here and there and this album by Dave Hurley is a refreshing reminder of how alive, soulful and transcendent modern freeform jazz can be.
Channeling the sounds and spirit (and you'll note, the album cover look) of '70s cosmic and out jazz luminaries like Alice Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders, Elvin Jones, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Steve Reid, Khan Jamal, etc., and with an understanding of how to craft a lush musical journey armed with a full palette of sounds that brilliantly touch on different areas with such a dynamic sonic scope. From majestic moments to full on freak outs and so much in between this is by far one of the most exciting and well crafted out-jazz records we've heard in such a long time. Hurley is a major player in the San Diego music scene and has appeared on records by folks like The Shining Path and Habitat Sound System (who also tapped into a warm and vintage '70s reggae sound on their debut). He's also one of the drummers in free-jazz legend Byard Lancaster's new ensemble. What makes this record so cool is that as well as the psychedelic jazz influences, there are some really intense and freakish moments that could be at home on some improv jam by Japanese psych bands like the Ruins, Boredoms, or Acid Mothers Temple. Hurley knows that it's not just about how loud you can skronk, but instead how much impact each sound has and what you draw from those sounds, and what those sounds can eventually evoke and illuminate. Too many in the modern free jazz scene rely on a one-trick pony philosophy of brute force that just doesn't have the soul and spirit to make it anything but noise. Thankfully, Hurley and his crack band understand how to to bring such fullness of sound and richness of delivery in creating music that is truly transcendent. Highly recommended!
New one from this old folkie. Nice.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
After a seemingly endless streams of reissues, comes some brand new music from folk legend Michael Hurley. Recorded over the last few years, Blue Hills finds Hurley in mostly solo mode, accompanying himself on one side with electric piano and old pump organ, while on the other side it's just acoustic guitar, with a tiny bit of violin on one track. The results are pretty stellar, Hurley's voice is rough and worn, a little ragged, but it suits these melancholic compositions. "In The Morning", with its strange melody and haunting electric piano ends up sounding mysterious and otherworldly, the soundtrack to a big empty house on a grey rainy day. The pump organ tracks have a similar vibe, darkly emotional, wistful, mournful, the wheezing organ a perfect compliment to Hurley's countryish croon, which slips smoothly from whiskey soaked to a surprisingly smooth falsetto.
On the second side Hurley straps on an acoustic, and goes all back porch blues, down home country folk, and his voice sounds amazing, delicate, a little wounded, wrapped around simple crystalline melodies and folky fingerpicked guitar, add some buzz and hiss, and it could be some rediscovered old timey field recording. The record finishes off with Hurley re-doing one of his old songs, originally recorded in 1963, and although this was in fact recorded last year, it again sounds timeless, Hurley's falsetto floating dreamily over skeletal guitar melodies, and moaning violin. So nice.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT!! MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT!! MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT!!
As always, that's the text version of the siren and the flashing light, to get the attention of the legions of record nerds who need to know nothing but the fact that this right here is a brand new MISSISSIPPI RECORDS release. For the rest of you, Hi Fi Snock Uptown is the latest in Mississippi's ongoing Michael Hurley catalog reissue campaign, after Parsnip Snips and Armchair Boogie. Hi Fi Snock Uptown is from 1972, and unlike the previous two records, that were basically solo voice and guitar, this one features an expanded lineup, a band proper, with mandolin and piano and clavinet and pedal steel, it's still mostly stripped down and minimal, but the sound is a bit more lush, a little more fleshed out, which actually dramatically alters the feel of Hurley's music. Whereas the first two records were a sort of sweet back porch folk, classic Americana, the songs here are a bit more rock, they sound like early seventies FM radio, think Flying Burrito Brothers, Jim Croce, even the Eagles. The core sound is still folk, and some of these songs definitely rank amongst Hurley's best, and many of the tracks definitely have the feel of his earlier records, but it's exciting to hear Hurley take his songs and his sound somewhere new, without losing the essence of what made his songs so special on the first place.
Nice heavy vinyl. And cool cartoon cover art featuring Hurley's own strange comic book style 'wolves in the saloon' drawings.
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
The last Michael Hurley lp, Armchair Boogie, reissued on Mississippi was gone in a flash, so don't hesitate too long on this one. Originally released in 1995 on the Veracity label, Parsnip Snips features homemade archival recordings made between 1965-1972. Sunny and warm, like a long lazy summer weekday in the country with nothing to do but sit on a porch and strum a guitar, Hurley can conjure folk magic through the simplest of means with a down-home at-his-leisure delivery. This is how we like him best, when he's his most laid back spinning humorously surreal tales of love, loss and space-weevils!
MISSISSIPPI ALERT! MISSISSIPPI ALERT! MISSISSIPPI ALERT!
This latest release from probably our favorite vinyl reissue label is a beautiful reissue of Armchair Boogie by the one and only folkie's folkie Michael Hurley! Released in 1971 this was Hurley's second album and it sure is a stunner!
Produced By Jesse Colin Young from the Youngbloods and originally released on his Raccoon imprint, this is a low key, occasionally strange piece of charmed backwoods Americana. Songs about werewolves, penguins and English Noblemen that display his keen songwriting abilities and dry humor, all wrapped around simple spare, sweet back porch folk.
It's an intimate, deep and vulnerable sounding ultra personal music, the kind of music that is better heard than described, better experienced for yourself, a music that on the surface seems simple, and surely is simple, but offers much to the listener, speaking to the heart, and the soul, as much as the mind.
If you were going to get one Michael Hurley album, this would most definitely be the one. After listening to this, it will make perfect sense why he has fascinated many of the later breed of folk songwriters including Cat Power, Devendra Banhart and Tara Jane O'Neil. On vinyl, the way it was meant to be!
The consummate "folksinger's folksinger" Michael Hurley has had a long strange life on the influential fringe of American folk music. And as most marginal artists from the fifties and sixties folk revival, just like their early progenitors, Hurley has had much more influence and success in the latter half of his life than in the beginnings. Why, we know much more about Hurley's influence on and involvement with the freak-folk movement of the past decade, than his early beginnings as an East Village folkie in New York or his symbolic connection to Woody Guthrie (Hurley too was once a patient at the same Bellvue convalescent ward where Guthrie spent his last days). In fact, this first record from 1964 on Smithsonian Folkways when Hurley was just 23 years old was released just after he left Bellvue, and one can hear the strains of Guthrie's roaming influence on these ramshackle backporch ballads that sound much older than they are. Hurley's music wasn't politically motivated, but championed a rugged individualism well in tune with bouts of desperation, wry wit and visionary mythical brilliance. This insight has only made him grow as an artist who just keeps getting better and better. Highly Recommended!
Mississippi John Hurt's lone recordings from his younger days get a nice looking vinyl reissue from the good people at Monk. The material here has been available numerous times throughout the years, but if you missed out, GET THIS NOW! Before his rediscovery in the 1960s, Hurt had recorded a mere 13 songs in New York and Memphis for Okeh after winning a talent contest. Then, like many of the original bluesmen, he faded into obscurity and continued to work the land as a sharecropper, playing music on the side. Hurt possessed an expert style of intricate fingerpicking and an easy going vocal delivery which made quite an impression on his audience in the '60s. The greatest thing about his work is how effortless it comes across, even though this is some pretty unbelievable and complex guitar playing, not to mention highly melodic. He doesn't sound like a man in a hurry or with too much to worry about, despite some of the lyrical content and the oppressive nature of being black and living in Mississippi (or anywhere in the Western world for that matter) during this time, and Hurt never seemed quite as bleak as some of the other Delta greats. This, of course, does nothing to diminish his power, and this one definitely gets our seal of approval.
Stompin', rockin' new 45 rpm blast of grit and groove from the fabulous trio of Sarah, Sadie, and Nikki aka The Husbands, San Francisco's latest and most successful export in the marketplace of hot female retro garage bands that like to party with vampire zombies. Sides A & B are both raucous originals, fast and fun ones that you'll be flippin' over and over again.
Finally! The debut album from local garage rock trio The Husbands -- a band that just happens to feature AQ's beloved Sadie Shaw on guitar, maracas and backup vocals. In fact it's all girls on this record, though they've got a boy playing added percussion on stage with 'em now. In addition to Sadie's fabulousness there's the authentic, so-appropriate voice of Sarah Reed -- sexily raspy from whiskey and cigarettes, but she still hits the notes, the girl can sing; and then there's the rhythmic pound of drummer Nikki Sloate. This fierce, all-attitude band is really into rockin', with a deep love for and knowledge of their '60s inspirations / source material. Half the songs are well chosen covers that get the rough 'n raw Husbands treatment -- tunes by Half Pint and the Fifths, The Barbarians, Carole King, even a punk-energized version of Bo Diddley's "Cadillac". Definitely a super-fun live band (go see 'em if you get the chance, which you probably will 'cause they're so hard workin') who've managed to capture their energy and attitude on this lil' round disc.
Wow, what a difference a few years make! Since their debut album in 2003, The Husbands have endured a seemingly non-stop revolving door on the drummer seat, finally lockin' in with Ms Casey Ward (of Weakling and The Lies) for this album. In that time the gals also spent a stretch expanding their vocal repertoire with awesome sassy results. The results are a much tighter, tuneful Husbands. Most notable is the occasionally very '60s girl group style singing which serves as a nice counterpart to their former predominantly snarky vocal cord shredding fury. That by no means is any indication that this SF garage rock trio has softened up. Sadie, Sarah and Casey will still kick your ass 'round the block with their music (and we'd bet they'd do so literally too if you wrong 'em!). All members share in multiple instrument duties and are joined by such guests as Dave Sartain, Russell Quan (of countless garage rawk combos), and Trans Am's Phil Manley. Seventeen short'n'sweet party-ready tunes (only one of which exceeds the three minute mark!).
Years and years ago, a handful of cd-r's showed up in the mail, obviously black metal, it took us a while to figure out what or who it was, the group's logo, fantastically illegible, the artwork abstract and black and white, shapes and skulls, altars and shadows, and the music, woah, dark and ritualistic, buzzy and blackened and pretty goddamn weird, we eventually discovered it was in fact a 'band' called Homunculus, but were never able to get copies for the shop. We've been fans of Texas industrial noisescapers and black drone technicians Husere Grav for a while now, and only just discovered, that the man behind Homunculus is in fact also Husere Grav. But don't be expecting black metal here, HG traffic in a bleak, blackened, post industrial ambience, huge heaving swaths of Lustmordian rumbles, sprawling bleak soundworlds that are equal parts Wolf Eyes at their most minimal, and the grim, kvlt ritualism of Abruptum, all blurred and smeared into hazy expanses of black sonic murmur, and abstract metallic shimmer, abject soundworlds of blunted blacknoize and crumbling squalls of static, most of the tracks here surprisingly tranquil, heady, meditative soft noise minimalism, which sounds at times quite a bit like The Caretaker, albeit a bit noisier and low fidelity, or Caretaker offshoot The Stranger, sculpted static, and buried murky melodies. While folks into black metal, and black ambience, and ritualistic dronemusic will of course dig, the sound here is shot through with a buried beauty, that casts You Are Transparent, as something almost more aligned with Philip Jeck, Tim Hecker or Leyland Kirby, which is most definitely a very good thing.
Super deluxe packaging, the disc, housed in a dvd case, with a sixteen page black and white art zine, wrapped in a Japanese style obi, with a sticker and a button. LIMITED TO 400 COPIES, each one hand numbered.
Finally some new music from aQ faves FRKSE, whose last lp, Guilt Surveillance, we made Record Of The Week, and for good reason. A stunning collection of home brewed mad scientist rhythmic experiments, all twisted loops, mutated samples, home built machines, noise and sonic detritus, somehow sculpted into heady, hypnotic, robotic soundscapes, reminding us a bit of Strotter Inst, but even more damaged and decayed, the sound gorgeously hypnotic, but at the same time, like the soundtrack to some dystopian wasteland. But before we get to the new FRKSE tracks, this here is a split, with another aQ fave, Husere Grav, a Texan one man band who specializes in harrowing, Lustmordian black ambience, and twisted industrial soundscapery, and these tracks here are some of his best yet. The opener, a haunting sonic smoldering, that sounds like a blackened Caretaker, all buried melodies, wistful and melancholic, but wreaths in crumbling, rumbling buzz, and burnished hiss and whir, hazy and hypnotic, we would have been more than happy if this dystopian drift filled up the whole side, but instead, the sound shifts into something even more abstract, what sounds like a field recording of some subterranean passage, the whir of distant machines, fragments of conversation, all blurred and smeared into a dreamlike sibilance, and amidst this sort of slow moving, near static shimmer, all manner of melody and texture seem to fade in and fade out, ghostly and ephemeral. The rest of the side is easily the most lovely stuff we've heard yet from Husere Grav, no caustic crunch, no ominous rumbling, instead, it's a darkly delicate sprawl of reverberant thrum, softly pulsing tones, all spread out into lush layers, deep dense billows of sound, softly haunting, deeply tranquil, some seriously lowercase, cinematic, slo-mo bliss out of the highest order. Fans of hushed ambient drift and deeeeeep listening drone music will be smitten for sure.
The FRKSE side is just as good as we expected/hoped. A ramshackle assemblage of beats, percussion, rhythm, some bits sound like actual drums, but mostly it sounds like found sounds, hiss and static from old records, the clang of metal on metal, the pulse and throb of an lp run off groove, what might be plucked rubber bands, or a processed heartbeat, who knows, and who cares! The sound settles into a totally hypnotic rhythm right out of the gate, and then the sound is constantly in flux, a sort of junkyard industrial, the main rhythm, gathering noise and detritus as it goes, whether that's simply more rhythm, or thick swaths of crumbling crunch, or squalls of hissy, staticky psychedelia. Like pretty much every track we've heard from FRKSE, it's so immediately mesmerizing, you sort o never want it to end, but invariably it does, only to conjure up a new rhythm, which is equally enthralling. But here, that first rhythm fades out, leaving the surrounding sounds to swirl and shimmer, a long stretch of soft-noise ambience, that like the HG side is surprisingly lovely, only to culminate in one final rhythmic stretch, a slow brooding bit of almost doom sounding lope, but it's not heavy, instead, it's a muted pulse, a lumbering, somnambulant groove, a dreamily lovely tarpit-creep, that again, sounds like it's being performed by junkyard automatons, or some strange crew of cobbled together robots, but the amazing thing is that it doesn't sound robotic, it sounds human, and emotional, the sound infused with a haunting, pathos, a melancholia, that transforms it into something otherworldly. Fantastic!
Beautiful packaging too, simple plain white covers with a piece of white plaster/gauze affixed to the front. Includes two inserts. NO download. And as you might imagine. EXTREMELY limited!
Quite possibly one of the nicest lp packages we have seen. Definitely top 10. Hard to even know how to describe it. You sort of have to hold int and unfold it and feel the texture and the heft. Wow. Thick textured cardstock, fastened all over with black rivets, the whole thing embossed and letterpressed with black ink, abstract designs and very classy looking calligraphy, the back is die cut about half way down, so it opens like a barn door, split down the middle, held shut by black string, once opened, it reveals the 180 gram lp nestled inside as well as still more embossed design and text. So gorgeous.
And the music is definitely deserving of such over the top extra attention. A reissue of a long out of print cd-r, Hush Arbors explore a dark murky side of their soul, a drifting cloudy otherworld of soft freefolk bliss, flecked with all manner of detuned guitars, warped melodies, creaking percussive clatter, shimmery effervescence, but with a definite ominous edge, a lo-fi Third eye Foundation recording for Siltbreeze maybe? But with more twang, and more shuffle, and more delicate dreaminess. So nice.
An essential dreamfolk / free folk / folknoise / dronetwang artifact beautifully preserved and offered up again for a very limited time.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Each copy hand numbered, we got a bunch but these definitely won't last.
On their second outing as a fully realized band (as distinguished from Keith Wood's solo foresty folk experimentalism of their earlier Digitalis releases), Hush Arbors are quickly becoming the band to watch! Produced by J. Mascis of Dinosaur Jr., their combination of bucolic psych-rock and strong rootsy songs tread a similar path to many of the bands currently on the Sub Pop roster but thankfully avoid all the sensitive dude pitfalls many of those bands suffer. Mascis's presence is definitely felt in the shoegazey guitar work of the final track, "Devil Made You High" but it's Wood's strong falsetto delivery that moves the songs into all the right places. Like a more driving Six Organs, Yankee Reality is just as satisfying as their last self-titled release for Ecstatic Peace. Keep 'em coming!
In the past Keith Wood has released all kinds of material under the Hush Arbors moniker, so we had no idea what to expect from this new record on Ecstatic Peace. Turns out it's a seriously awesome album of psych folk psychosis! It really grew on us, the perfect album to play in the store. With a simple charm that totally hinges on catchy, rootsy guitar licks and soft, falsetto vocals that are ever-so effective in completely captivating. Slipping between quietly sung finger picked ballads and rowdy full-band jammers, these are the kind of songs that stay in your head longer than you'd like, but you don't mind because they're awesome. Wood and his partner, Leon Dufficy, have conjured a magical release that falls somewhere between a forested acoustic ritual and a boozed up, barn burning hoedown. Wood's somber songwriting is clever and touching, combining the tenderness of Neil Young with the atmospheric obscurity of Six Organs (Ben Chasny even makes an appearance on the second track!). Very cool! Complete with a beautifully collaged cover featuring a picture of the man himself. Needless to say, don't miss out, this is highly recommended!
Long overdue reissue of the out of print debut from Hush Arbors, aka Keith Wood. These tracks are warm and rich, hazy and mysterious free folk explorations of the highest order, each track like some long lost artifact, buried beneath a hundred year old tree, in the middle of the forest, and only just discovered, dusted off and allowed to play...
Woozy warbly drones, thick and dense, rumble and whir over a delicate bed of foresty folk, dreamy and blissy and otherworldly. Wood's fragile falsetto soars high above, another soft swirly layer in the dense tapestry of Hush Arbors' sound. This is exactly what you would expect to hear stumbling upon a forest cathedral, a mighty structure of bent limb trees, thick foliage, a soft wet bed of leaves underfoot, dark but for occasional shafts of sunlight, somber with hushed reverence but so alive and infused with energy, warm and safe and beautiful. Some tracks are fragile dreamlike folk, reminding us a bit of the Skygreen Leopards, due in no small part to the sweet swoonsome oh so high vocals, while other tracks forego melody completely instead opting to drift lazily, wrapping the word in a wreath of sonic shimmer.
Packaged in a plastic sleeve with a cool gold metallic paper sleeve. Includes brief liner notes from Six Organs Of Admittance's Ben Chasny.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
All scrap metal, all the time. Hal Hutchinson's sound demolition begins and ends with a piece of metal being dragged, bent, hammered, twisted, thrown, crushed, and generally abused within a relatively enclosed space. Industrial culture has long been enamored with abandoned warehouses rich with concrete reverberation and the transgressive thrill of breaking and entering into such a space to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting air-conditioning duct. Einsturzende Neubauten, Test Dept., Z'ev, The New Blockaders, Organum, Merzbow, and many others have collected the detritus from the urban wasteland and turned those tools into a rich vocabulary of muscularity, guttural exuberance, and violent expressionism. The British noise sculptor Hutchinson takes this obsession to the extremes in building his entire musical language on the aggregation of acoustic noise from scrap metal. In the lengthy essay mapping out the aesthetic progression of his work, Hutchinson describes a goal of occupying the space between heavily structured forms of industrial music (e.g. Test Dept., Vivenza, etc.) and the more freeform approach to noise, seeking "a kind of 'ordered chaotic' state." Hutchinson is not one for the metal-bashed rhythms, and more inclined to repeat cyclical textures into a dense miasma that is equal parts controlled symphony and demolition site collapse. Strangely meditatively in delving into this throng of metal machine music for close to 60 minutes of tumbling car-crash frenzy.
Huun Huur Tu are probably the most famous musical export from Tuva, known to most for their unique style of throat singing, in which the singer sings multiple notes: a drone, and then whistle like overtones, enabling the singer to create harmonies and multiple melodies, it's quite fantastic, and unlike almost anything you've ever heard. We've often fantasized about a black metal band finding a throat singer for a vocalist. We've actually seen John Gossard (Weakling, Asunder, Dispirit) at a Huun Huur Tu performance, trying to figure out exactly how they do it.
But the music of Huun Huur Tu is much more than just throat singing. Formed in the early nineties, the group performs and preserves traditional Tuvan folk music, singing in the traditional style, but also performing on traditional instruments, hand drums called Tungurs, a long necked Tuvan lute, called a Doshpuluur, a bowed two string instrument called an Igil, and perhaps as distinctive as the vocals, the Khomus, which is a Tuvan Jew's Harp. The sound they create is incredible. The above mentioned performance had 500+ people absolutely enraptured. Four guys in traditional Tuvan garb, boots and headdresses and furs, with those gorgeous instruments, the band wove a sonic spell that was impossible to resist. A sound that was surprisingly loud and powerful as well.
Ancestor's Call is their latest collection, and reflects the various facets of the group's sound and of the Tuvan folk music they pay homage to, from gorgeous solo vocal ballads, to galloping grooves (the galloping rhythm meant indeed to be horselike), the vocals a deep raspy almost Popeye sounding croon, easily slipping into throat singing, that whistling tone soaring impossibly over that deep buzz, some of the vocal harmonies are incredible, 4 impossibly deep voices woven into a lush harmony that rivals ANY drone music you've ever heard, rich and thick and dense and layered and when they begin to add those throat singing overtones, it's totally mesmerizing. The band do incorporate more traditional Western instruments (flutes, acoustic guitars), but they're deftly woven those into the group's sound, and they only serve to add to the gorgeous textures, especially on "Odugen Taiga" which sounds like Tuvan new age, or some Tuvan group making a record for Root Strata, but that's quickly followed by the gorgeous monk like chanting vocals of "Prayer", and it's then, more than ever, that you can feel the true power of their voices. So haunting and intense and emotional.
Of all the group's records, this one seems more stately, and restrained, darker and more melancholy, heavier on the ballads, the focus on the voices, not just the throat singing, but the vocal and instrumental interplay, the more rollicking numbers taking a back seat to the darkly dreamy moodiness of Huun Huur Tu's incredible sound and the fantastic musical legacy of Tuva. Nice slipcover packaging as well.
