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A synopsis of this self-titled debut by The Huxtables themselves: "In the beginning, there were two sweaters, a drum sweater and a guitar sweater. We attempted to win but lost a battle of the bands at our high school. At that point, we finally became a real family. Of course the guitar and drums are the parents and the drawings, video, bass and keyboards are the kids, uncles and aunts. On this recording, half of its songs are from a small concrete closet in Washington DC. At one point the closet was storage space for an up-right bass. We finished the album in a kitchen in Boston while in a tussle with the police. What they did to us in that kitchen forced us to become a collective notion and stop being a band. New songs are being worked out and the collective's future album will be called The Mere Pressure Of My Hand." The Huxtables are two 17 year old boys from New York who make art and music that's noisy, naive, raw and a little bit silly. But awesome and fun!
The name Huzun might not ring a bell, but for folks tuned into the experimental music scene in New Zealand or who are avid collectors of micro edition cd-r releases, you might know the names behind Huzun: Andrew Scott and Tim Coster. Andrew Scott is one half of the duo Nest, along with Nigel Wright, whose Flotter record has been a HUGE hit around here, and who shared a collaborative release last year with Mr. Coster.
So for Huzun, Scott teams up with Coster once again, this time minus Wright, for a disc of super minimal metallic melodic dronemusic. A 35 minute slow crawl through murky expanses of subterranean low end, dense clouds of slowed down whale call-like melodies buried beneath grinding swells of soft whirring blur, like exploring some lost underground city by torchlight, what sounds like bats fluttering overhead, strange sounds off in the distance like the buzz of insects, all over a deep dark rumbling like some sort of machine buried beneath the city. Haunting and harrowing, minimal and mysterious, at the same time subtly melodic and darkly mesmerizing.
More essential listening for all you dronelords and ladies...
Been waiting a long time for this one. The last two Hwyl Nofio's were and still are all time AQ faves, and judging from how many we sell, you all most likely feel the same! And a cd-r of Anatomy Of Distort has been on CONSTANT repeat play at home. Which makes sense since we described an earlier Hwyl record as being our "absolute favorite bliss out, late night, chill out record ever!". And Anatomy Of Distort takes HN's sound even farther in that direction, if that were even possible. All of the more traditional song like elements present on the first two records have been stripped away, leaving a ghostly trace, a wavering sonic imprint of some mysterious sound that once was, but that is slowly and purposefully revealing itself to us, bit by bit, slivers of sound slipping into our line of sight, distant melodies, slowly materializing at the farthest reaches of our perceptible sound field. Haunting, drifing clouds of lower register thrum,
faraway pizzicato melodies, percussion built from expansive empty room clatter, the thud of ghostly footprints, the creak and bump of rarely opened doors. Occasional slow motion monster piano plod, gorgeously suspenseful and dimly lit, over an ocean of reverberating, bowed metals, creating ominous smears of dark and indistinct sonic haze, all ocasionally engulfed in massive, warm washes of molten guitar feedback, at once fierce and full of fury, but somehow still completely dreamy and mesmerizing. It's always hard to not slip into hyperbole on the AQ list, but even harder when we're dealing with a record this good. Having said that, this is probably one of the most beautiful drone records you will hear this year. Ever maybe. So completely dense with hidden sounds and rich with sonic layers, totally blissful and perfect for drifting off, but complex enough to reward close scrutiny and active listening. Most certainly for fans of Jonathan Coleclough, Andrew Chalk, Deathprod, Total, Sunroof!, Vibracathedral Orchestra, Sunn 0 ))), Earth, Nurse With Wound, and folks who recently picked up recent releases by Unicorn, Lugosi, Birchville Cat Motel, BJ Nilsen, and Monos will NOT want to miss this. Packaged in an oversized, slimline style DVD case, with a nice photographic insert and LIMITED TO 250 COPIES!!
There are always gonna be special bands, the ones that hold a unique place in your heart. That band you heard when you were on a trip. The band you have loved since the first time you heard them. The band whose songs featured heavily on that mix tape. And then any variation of the 'first' band, the band whose show you were at the first time you got drunk, laid, high, the night you met 'the one', then there's the band whose songs are always stuck in your head, the first -any genre here- band you ever liked, the band that helped you make it through that breakup / rehab / depression / that tough time in your life. But then there's the sort of band you have that weird protective proprietary selfish love for. The band only you like. The band you don't want everyone else listening to. The band you discovered and only you truly love. You know what we mean. It's a rare band that can inspire that sort of love and dedication. Well, we're a little embarrassed to admit it, but we sort of felt that way about Hwyl Nofio. A friend in the UK turned us on to them years back, and from the moment we first laid ears on them, we were smitten, obsessed even. This mysterious outfit crafting these dark and ominous worlds of strange and beautiful sound. It was hard to not keep it all to ourselves, this dark cave of sound that we could explore and call our own. But we like to think we've outgrown that sort of stuff, since we get as much satisfaction from turning other folks on to new music as we do discovering it for ourselves. More so in most cases. But it definitely speaks to the power of Hwyl Nofio, and the effect of their murky and mysterious music has on our ears, and brains, and hearts and souls.
Hounded By Fury is record number four from this UK drone outfit. The band is mostly the work of one man, Steve Parry, who handles the bulk of the sound making, utilizing all manner of guitars: strummed, plucked, bowed, adapted and otherwise, ukulele, piano, organs: church and otherwise, viola, bass and electronics, while a series of guests add their two cents with saxophone, Chinese guzheng, acoustic guitar processing, imagined banjo (?) and midi fractal image converter (!). Recorded at various locations including an old church Hounded By Fury is a definitely a drone record at its heart, but it's what the band do with those drones that makes Hwyl Nofio so special.
The sound this time around is a bit more ominous than on past outings. There's more scraping and scrabbling steel strings, a sort of grinding industrial screech that surfaces in some form or another on many of the tracks, sometimes right up front, a keening high end wail, sometimes just another element in a multilayered droneworld, subtly blended into a slow sleepy swirl with thee rest of the sounds.
The opening track is the former, with steel strings singing as they are scraped and scratched, a shrill screech stretched taut over a warm reverberant low end, strange tinkling wooden chimes and twinkling music box melodies, while in the background a moaning mournful melody, strummed softly so that the strums blend together. From that point on, it's a slow journey through a nighttime world of slow burn jazz minimalism a la Bohren, buzzing raga like rumble, and abstract ambient flutter. Layers of bowed strings sit atop minimal pulsing rhythms, a minimal throb usually constructed from one or two notes, long sustaining tones are stretched out side by side, the overtones shimmering and shifting, the resulting soundfield like drifting along some alien river, staring at a sky full of different stars, a head full of strange and unrecognizable sounds. Bizarre disembodied jangle is stripped of melody, until it's just a warm ridged texture, atonal Jandekian guitar figures warped and twisted, slowed down and sped up, sprinkled with cymbal sizzle and muted reverb ricochets, all stretched and twisted into various forms of drone.
One of the most intense tracks is "Child Woman", a choral sounding minor key lament, deep dark strings and mournful melodies, almost traditional settled as it is amidst an album of abstract experimental drone music., but very emotional and cinematic. It seems like a turning point for the record too as the next few tracks sound downright sunny, bright colors replace the dark, guitars twang, a trippy tangled slow motion free folk, the melodies not so dour, but the sunshine soon dims as black clouds fill the sky and timestretched metallic reverberations fill our ears like a million alarm clocks going off at once and then slowed down into a wall of alien trills, the mood shift is further enforced by some super sharp atonal guitars, swooping dizzily about, sounding a bit like the guitars on the Butthole Surfers' Hairway To Steven record, sort of damaged and deranged. But then the record's coda brings us back to Hwyl's soft shimmer, the delicate drone, a haunting ghostlike swoon, fuzzy and gauzey, obscured by falling rain, a dreamy drift into the void, a slow sad slide into the bright white, the pitch black left far behind.
Here we go again. Another record that I am totally obsessed with, that I listen to like mad, that I try to get all my friends to buy, but that when it comes time to review, I can't figure out how to describe in words that do justice to just how great this record is. Since we first got this in, the second release from strangely named Hwyl Nofio, a UK collective fronted by AQ pal Steve Parry, I would just fumble with superlatives and end up spitiing out something like "I don't know. It's just great. Buy it!!!" But I figure I would try to do a little better than that for the list. While the mood is similar to the first record, there seems to be a more sort of 'rock' influence. Not rock like Van Halen, but rock in the sense that there are guitars (lots of em) and really identifiable instruments. Where the first album blurred the instrumentation into a dark and dreamy wash of subterranean rumble, Hymnal achieves the same basic effect but by keeping the edges a little more distinct. Not to say this won't appeal to your droning side becaue it certainly will. But it also just might appeal to your slow motion, instrumental slow-core side as well! A very dark and sinister record. Dreamy and hypnotic, but sort of aggressive and threatening at the same time. The entire record is a nightmarescape set on a foundation of rumbling, swelling, washes of thick warm low end shimmer. Basses, and guitars and organs and horns all settle into a cloying fog of glacial downtuned thrum, slowly shifting, melodic flourishes barely visible below the surface. While pianos and guitars supply abstract melodies, their notes dropped delicately one by one, creating a pointillist map of some haunting afterlife/ghost world. Equal parts Stars Of The Lid, Sunn 0))), Jonathan Coleclough, Maeor Tri, Starfuckers, Godspeed You Black Emperor, Labradford, Morton Feldman and all the music that frightens us when we're awake, and soothes us when we're not. Definitely one of the most beautiful, haunting and original records of the year!
MPEG Download: "A Brutality Of Fact" [/audio/hwylbrutality.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "A Brutality Of Fact" [/audio/hwylbrutality.m3u]
MPEG Download: "All You Knew Were Doomed" [/audio/hwyldoomed.mp3]
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We heard about Hwyl-Nofio from AQ pal Kevin who does the amazing UK zine Salt (see elsewhere in this list) and finally managed to get our hands on a bunch. It's kind of a hard record to explain. But I've been listening to this almost every night when I go to bed, if that tells you anything. Dark and dreamy and cinematic. Somewhere between musique concrete, Stars Of The Lid, David Darling (solo cello) and drone ala Jonathan Coleclough, Troum or Mirror. Hwyl-Nofio is Steve Parry, and the records sound centers around his restrained, haunting piano, some times prepared, sometimes effected, but always simple and gorgeous. Dark slowly building somber bass swells cycle endlessly as melancholy piano hesitantly joins in. Warm washes of whispery rumble spread like thick rich fog, spilling from the speakers as distant high end notes twinkle and sparkle. Wheezing dissonance is laid beneath whirring church organs and keening guitars. Rumbling and bubbling low end floods your ears like molasses, while in the background, subtle clatter, plucked guitar and throbbing pulses. This has become my absolute favorite bliss out, late night, chill out record ever! So gorgeous and so good.
Yet ANOTHER amazing slab of extreme, gnarled grim blackness from the seemingly bottomless depths of the French underground, this time from a horde known as Hyadningar. The Weak Creation is the second full length from these evil wicked warriors, and finds the band whipping up serious storm of grim, technical, melodic black metal, a strange mix of Deathspell-ish complexity, epic soaring melodicism, dour depressive miserablism, and even a hint of Viking metal hear and there.
That's a lot to cram into one sound, or one record, or even one band, but these guys pull it off, twisting those various sounds into something all their own, and then weaving them all together into some strange blackened patchwork. The first song veers from woozy clean guitars and soaring chantlike vocals, to lurching Burzum-y trudge, to haunting almost martial sounding breakdowns with tangled guitar harmonies, military snares, and haunting spoken word, but it all somehow flows, an expansive, complex bit of black metal chaos.
The vocals are frenzied and frayed, maniacal and feral, slipping from shriek to croak to howl, courtesy of Marquis, whose vokills might sound familiar from his time spent in Bethlehem, Funeralium and Ataraxie, and they perfectly compliment the twists and turns and ever shifting arrangements that make up these convoluted epics. Most of the songs here spend the majority of their time blasting along furiously, the guitars dense and jagged, the drumming impossibly mathy and complex, the melodies mournful and intricate, but the band continually mix things up, whether it's a sudden shift into a soaring melodic crooned breakdown, or a warped bit of folky flutter, or exploding into a totally epic almost psychedelic blast of heart-of-the-sun black majesty.
Dark, droney, dirgey metal...our favorite! Yep, this new band called Hyattari is an immediate AQ sludge/art metal fave, from West Virgina but sounding like they hail from the deeps of space, giving your ears a cold void embrace in the style of such bands as Skullflower, Halo, and Earth. Hyattari's music consists of uber-heavy sheets of low-end echoing riff-drone on bass and guitar that sound SO GOOD, joined (not even right away, but a little while into the record) by plodding, rigid, militaristic programmed percussion. It's sorta like Growing meets Godflesh! The seven tracks here (with doomy titles like "14,000,000,000 Years Ago", "Collapse", and "Harvesting Sod") pretty much slowly flow unbroken from one to the next, although within a few of the songs you'll find some sudden, short interludes of gentle melody. Haunting and lonely lulls in the sheer HEAVINESS that fills so much of this disc like glacial ice advancing over the globe during the last Ice Age. And it's mostly instrumental, with a small smattering of Neurosisy shouted/screamed vocals, augmented by sampled voices, buried in the massive mix like lost shortwave transmissions or ghostly EVP intercepts.
Besides the abovementioned, a few other artists that this reminds us of include: SUNNO))), Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Isis, Pelican, Cult Of Luna -- and the natural VLF radio recordings of Stephen P. McGreevy, 'cause this disc ends (though it doesn't seem like it ever should end, instead continuing on eternal and infinite like space itself) with a lengthy, mysterious field recording (maybe?) that might just be sferics or other electro-magnetic phenomena from the Earth's atmosphere. Very nice.
Originally self-released, and now wisely picked up by Earache's new avant/extreme Codebreaker imprint (run by the guy who used to do the now defunct Rage of Achilles label), The Light Carriers gets a big AQ recommendation to anyone into this sort of slow n' low majesty.
It's been four years since we first encountered this drone-doom-doom-drone band from West Virginia's debut album The Light Carriers. And its heavy vibrations made such an impression on us, we'd been wondering when we'd heard from them again... of course, for these guys, whose music is sooooo sloooow and seemingly transmitted from the deeps of space, four years probably isn't a long time, not on the grand galactic scale. So we waited, and we're glad they've now at last resurfaced, with, uh, They Will Surface. Considering all the droney, dooooooomy music we sell, having more Hyatari here at AQ is a good thing. Really, it seems these guys should be just as popular as bands like Ufomammut, Atavist, Nadja... certainly if you like the likes of those, you should check out Hyatari!
This new disc picks up where the last one left off, pretty much. A musical 2001: The Space Odyssey monolith of epic, moody, synth sludge DIRGE, built from slabs of Earth/SUNNO)))/Skullflower style distortion and lumbering, crushingly heavy riffs, which seem to explode out of the near-stillness of their more ambient, drifty, spaced-out passages. And it's (mostly? all?) instrumental, so nothing so insignificant and small as a pesky human voice enters into the majestic, black-void-encompassing soundfield. But instead of the Godflesh-y programmed drum beats of the debut, this time around it sounds more like there's a physical being behind the drumkit, pounding away with the pulse of the cosmos. Although, no drummer is credited, so it's probably a machine. Heck, all of Hyatari might just be a machine. We imagine the depressed robot from Hitchhiker's Guide, but serious and scary and for some reason intent on playing ultra-heavy post rockish drone-doom!
Belgian electronic-ritualists The Hybryds began producing their exotic, sensual mesmerism and ethnographic forgeries in the mid '80s, after ringleader Sandy Nys (aka Magthea) transitioned from the minimalist EBM of The Klinik into the far more supple forms of tape loops and ritualized performance. Their iconography was one that was very much a precursor to the modern primitive bacchanal of Burning Man and paralleled the philosophical fascination with Crowley that came out of the whole Psychic TV and Current 93 circle. As such, Hybryds were a project with one foot very clearly in the ancient and the other firmly adhering to the technological advances. The slow, gyrating rhythms interlace the patter from hand-drummed percussion on wood, skin, bone, and metal with the electronic structures from MIDI-driven samples draped with reverberantly sustained synth drones. Nys along with co-conspirator Leen Smets (aka Yasnaia) also wove this tapestry with wordless vocals, processed violin, phasing tape loops, and the sublimely eerie buzzing of Egyptian reeds. Music For Rituals was the band's first album beyond a couple of limited cassette releases, featuring input from fellow Belgian transcendentalist Vidna Obmana who like Nys had shifted from a hard-bodied industrialist into a liquid melange of ritualized ambience and gnostic mysticism. This album originally came out on the seminal German label Artware in 1992, has been remastered from the 4-track tapes, and is now fleshed out with an extra cd's worth of bonus material. Zoviet France, O Yuki Conjugate, Zero Kama, and even the more introspective albums from Coil would all be worthy comrades in arms with Hybryds. Polish import in a limited edition of 500 copies.
Up until now, we knew Hyetal as a Bristol based dubstepper, with killer jams on all sorts of labels from Punch Drunk to Planet Mu, his sound a soulful, tripped out variant of classic dubstep, but who here, on Broadcast, has ditched the whole dubplate / 12" single / dancefloor driven approach and crafted a record proper, one that plays out like some strange Eighties giallo soundtrack, equal parts Goblin, John Carpenter, witch housers Salem, and nineties IDM, not to mention some serious soul. Opener "Ritual" is the grimmest of the bunch, and the most witch house-y, total blackened synth heavy drag, the sounds distorted and crumbly, the beat a soporific creep, lots of buzz, and swirl, and some total Carpenter like soundtracky melodies, all minor key and haunting as hell. "Diamond Islands" continues the vibe, with a skittery abstract beat, some woozy, sinister synths, some big eighties drums, breathy vocals suspended over the swirling electronic backdrop, the vibe low slung and retro, but also weirdly abstract and futuristic.
"Phoenix" takes some swaggery dubstep, stirs in some 8 bit eighties video game sounds, and some cheesy soundtracky synths, into some total VHS dubstep new age soundtrack soul, while "Beach Scene" conjures up the exact opposite, some grimy chase through the gritty streets of some post apocalyptic wasteland. And weirdly enough, "The Chase" doesn't really evoke a chase, but is darkly tense, a pulsing new wave synthscape, that leads directly into "Searchlight", which takes Boards Of Canada style warm and washed out IDM, mixes in some weird eighties synths and some blooping bleeping video game music, not to mention some fragmented soul vox, for a dizzying bit of haunting skittery electro wave.
"Dimepiece" is all minimal and stripped down, with distant melodies, a churning propulsive melody, but with some awesome swaths of dubstep bas wobble, underpinning echo drenched disembodied female vox.
The record continues on, straddling the line between abstract dubstep, vintage Carpenter soundtrack, old school IDM, and dark minimal electro soul, finally finishing off with the haunting and gorgeously brooding "Black Black Black", a sort of post Portishead chunk of downtempo slither, sexy female vocals crooned over a Burial style slo-mo dubstep beat, all wound up with pulsing synths, and deep thick swells of haunting ambience, and draped with some chiming, lilting eighties pop melodies, only to fade out into nearly two minutes of crashing surf. So nice.
Note: the double 12" vinyl version only includes 5 of the 10 tracks found on the compact disc format.
We weren't really sure to expect from this band. We were sort of taking a chance on the cool name, the striking cover and the sticker that explained that Hylozoists were in fact a 10 piece ensemble including vibraphones, double drums, organ, piano, strings, glockenspiel, flugelhorn, brass, pedal steel and more... Wow. How could we not be smitten already? Without even having heard it. Thankfully, it's just as cool as we hoped. Obvious points of reference are Stereolab, the Coctails, Neu!, Japancakes, Rachel's. Calexico, even Godspeed! You Black Emperor. Lilting dreamy chamber pop, lush and languorous, a little bit cocktail jazz, a little exotica, some krautrock groove, a bit of twang, some slow burning moodiness, some spaghetti Western campiness, some effervescent pop. A glorious and playful, propulsive indie-chamber-pop chamber epic postrock record for sure. Some sweet female vocals surface in the middle of the record, but for the most part this is all instrumental, and all dreamy and divine.
Featuring members of the Weakerthans, Broken Social Scene, Fembots and Final Fantasy.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Reissue of this 60's classic of the (duh) Moog synth pop exotica genre so popular with today's youth. Nicely packaged with plenty of liner notes. "The Topless Dancers of Corfu" beckon...
Not to be confused with the infamous music video director, THIS Hype Williams is a Euro boy/girl duo who traffic in a woozy washed out, looped and loopy lysergic dubbed out witchy electronica, like How To Dress Well crossed with The Skaters, each track, a dizzying hypnoscape of cyclical rhythms, of layered melodies, and processed vox, a sound all syrupy and sludgey and seriously lo-fi, casio-core writ downtempo dancefloor drawl, chopped and screwed, and not all that far removed from Witch Housers like oOoOO or Salem, the same sort of cough syrup soaked electro dub, all skittery and shuffly, warped and warbly, everything dragging and druggy, sloe eyed and slithery, the bass is fuzzy and buzzy but is muted and blurred beneath robotic primitive rhythms, and hazy swirls of dreamlike melody, samples are manipulated, processed, stretched and reimagined, Sade becomes an icy chunk of electro murk (not here, but on another record, HW samples aQ fave Doug Blunt, AND half of Hype Williams calls himself D. Blunt, hmmmm), elsewhere the samples are not so easy to pick out, instead they're simply shards and streaks and fragments, all woven into HW's psychedelic skitter and bleary creepy crawl.
From ominous mysterious mumbly murk, to hazy, looped dreampop drift, from twisted chaotic collaged shuffle funk to Ariel Pink style alien FM radio groove pop, all the tracks here ooze and bleed and melt before your ears into one ever shifting organic assemblage of late night, under water, doped up, drift off, zombie funk...
Latest slab of psychedelic dancefloor drag / slo-mo soul / eighties synth wave weirdness from this European boy/girl duo (not to be confused with the hip hop video director), and it's more of what we loved about the other HW record, all hazy synths, and laid back handclap rhythms, fuzzy new wave basslines, and sultry vox. The opening track almost sounds like it could (should?) be on Italians Do It Better, that sort of Euro disco wave, the second track on the A side sounds like some lost instrumental version of one of Madonna's eighties B-sides, which leads right into the first track on the B-side which could have been modeled on Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time", some sort of alternate universe prom night slow dance ballad, but warped and tweaked and warbly, all cheesy synths and eighties drum machine and shopping mall Wurlitzers. The final track is really strange, the prettiest of the bunch, a dreamy lilting gamelan like melody, all murky and swirly and druggy, but then over the top there there are some super strange sampled vox, which change the vibe completely. Speaking of which, since there was no speed indicated on the label, we were listening to this at 33, and holy crap does it sound awesomely woozy and witch housey all slowed down...
New mysterious lp from the equally mysterious duo, Hype Williams. Housed in a blank white 12" sleeve with a blank white label and white vinyl and no identifying information whatsoever, except for a sticker on the shrink wrap. Hell, it took us awhile to even figure out what speed it's supposed to play at and we're still not really sure. Crackly and hollowed out synth washes and bouncy but distant drum machines play in deceptively basic minimal-funk pitch-shifted arrangements that slowly wooze and morph into dreamy soul refractions. Hazy and murky like their witch-house contemporaries would be good descriptors, but it's much more of a hot muddled electro mess than spindly goth horror daydream. Dam-Funk on Nyquil, perhaps? Supposedly these songs have titles, but there is no listing, maybe if we slavishly followed the blogs, we might have a clue, but it's hard to tell where one track ends and another one starts. We don't even know which is side one or two. Hype Williams may revel in their particular brand of confounding prankishness and seem not to care if you are in on their joke or not, but if their output wasn't so curiously intriguing, we might have not given this a second thought. Truth be told, we can't stop trying to wrap our heads around it, so that's gotta be something, right?
High-octane, leather-clad thrash metal from a trio of young Swedes who really know what they're doing, old-school style. Everybody in Sweden must play in a metal band, for them to have this many good ones! 35 minutes of pure neck-sprain.
You don't see too many street music ensembles with this kind of pedigree. This Chicago-based 9 piece jazz group, who have spent years touring and honing their craft on street corners worldwide, at least when they're not backing Erykah Badu on a song or opening for the recently reunited Blur at Hyde Park, also features eight sons (from two different mothers) of legendary Chicago trumpeter and A.A.C.M. co-founder Philip Cohran on horns! 2 trombones, 4 trumpets, one sousaphone and a euphonium. The drummer is the only member not related to the jazz great. Formed over a decade ago, after a tragic murder of a younger brother brought the rest of the brood back to Chicago, the brothers united and have been performing and touring ever since. Three self-released and recorded cd-rs have been in circulation since 2004, but this is their first studio effort, afforded them by Alan Scholefield of Honest Jon's who first heard them outside his London Record Store. Not jazz exactly, what the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble play is a form of complex instrumental hip-hop, one player locking in on rhythmic loops and grooves while some orbit in and around the center and others keep the low end steady. There are no solos or "out" moments, the ensemble performs as a single interlocked unit. We bet this would be really amazing live! As a studio effort it sounds great, but like listening to any full on brass ensemble or marching band, there is minimal overall variation, so the sound tires out a bit after awhile. But still, you don't see horn ensembles like this too often, and with pieces by Moondog and Philip Cohran himself, this is still quite a worthwhile listen!
Here's another band for all those folks freaking over the blissed out post black metal jangle pop of groups like Alcest, Amesoeurs, Les Discrets, Sleeping Peonies and all the rest. This Dutch one man band began life as something much more black and grim, but gradually shed all of that as the sound drifted toward something way more shoegazey and poppy.
And that's essentially what this is, a shoegaze record, a fuzzed out dream pop record, albeit one with buzzing brittle guitars, occasional squalls of frenzied fast picking, and once-in-a-while blast beats, and any of the elements that would normally go toward creating a grim black buzz, are transformed into a prismatic psychedelic shimmer, a fuzzy, a blissed out shoegaze buzz equal parts super sunny jangle pop and slow building instrumental crystalline post rock, soaring and epic and emotional, oozing with glistening melodic shimmer, wreathed in warm sonic swirls. If we had to pick one band to compare Hypomanie to, it would probably be Slowdive, a sort of blackened post rock Slowdive, but that same sort of wistful melancholia, and epic shoegazey swells, not to mention the occasional sweeping string like synths. There's also a huge Jesu vibe in the guitar tone and the epic crescendos (which also remind us of M83), and there's a strange looped vibe to many of the tracks, as if the songs were constructed and assembled, which gives the whole thing a dizzying, alien feel, which certainly suits the strange dreamlike sounds. And throughout the record, there are definitely some subtle hints of Hypomanie's black metal roots, in the buzzing guitars, the tremelo picking, the strange production, and here and there, the sound does actually explode into some serious black metal, like the closing bit of the opening track, which bursts into some furious soaring frenzied buzzing, anchored to some double kick driven blast beats, but even then it's all kaleidoscopic and dreamy, the blasting drums buried in the lush sonic swirl, a sound so epic and cinematic and fantastically grandiose. Gorgeous stuff for sure, and ANYone into the post black metal jangle pop usual suspects (mentioned above), will definitely dig this big time.
The latest from this Dutch one man shoegaze black metal band, whose A City In Mono record was a big hit around here, with it's fuzzed out dream poppiness and weirdly looped sounding construction. Well if anything, on Calm Down, You Weren't Set On Fire it's gotten even harder to refer to Hypomanie as a black metal band, no matter how much you qualify it, any black buzz here is wreathed in prismatic swaths of sun dappled shimmer, the soaring guitars are processed to the point that they almost sound like horns and the programmed drums aren't driving as much as they are textural. Utterly blissed out and airy, fuzzy and dreamily soft focus, even when the sound is in fact blasting, the blast seems to be floating heavenward, in a cloud of blurred chordal thrum and majestic bleary eyed shimmer. But the band spend relatively little time bliss-blasting, instead unfurling long expanses of jangly shimmer, and post rocky dream poppy lope. And on tracks like "Alissa Loves Perfume", while the band do rock, all driving and intense, with the guitars super distorted to the point that they seem to crumble, it doesn't make it sound heavy at all, just fantastically produced and poppy, making us think of a more home brewed M83, which is not a bad thing at all, in fact, we've been listening to this like crazy. It's just that for all intents and purposes, Hypomanie are not a metal band, they are instead a heavy shoegaze dream pop band, and a really good one, the songs here super catchy, and almost soundtracky at times, the sort of jams you can imagine would be on the soundtrack to a John Hughes movie, if he was making Sixteen Candles in 2012. Fans of M83, Phoenix, Craft Spells, Beach House, and yeah okay, Alcest, Amesoeurs, Les Discrets and the like.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!!
A brand new three song 12" 50 minute ep from Swedish Black metal outfit Hypothermia, whose black metal, is both strangely not metal, and surprisingly not all that black. Much like German 'wooden metal' horde Varghkogargasmal, Hypothermia spend much of their time playing clean jangly guitar, or offering up meandering post rock jams, minor key guitar strum and simple propulsive drumming, sure there are howled vocals and thick swaths of buzzing blackened riffs now and again, but what is so intriguing about Hypothermia is that they manage to evoke the same sort of suicidal emotions and grim atmosphere, without resorting to typical black metal tropes.
Gratoner is three parts of the same song, side A has parts one and two, while side B has the "Repression" version. Truth be told, all three are quite similar, which in fact plays to Hypothermia's benefit, in that Gratoner plays like one long song, repetitive and cyclical, hypnotic and repetitive, which once drawn in, keeps the listener absolutely ensorcelled.
The core of the track is a loping clean guitar groove, a sort of post rock minor key figure, repeated over and over, alternating between fingerpicked and strummed, the drums too, a simple propulsive midtempo rhythm, all minor key and slightly melancholy, a few minutes into part one, an inhuman shriek surface, and soon after the song switches gears, the same loping jam now overlaid with fuzzy washed out distorted riffage, and the track slips back and forth, clean, distorted, clean, distorted, until part two, where the drums and guitar bliss out, weaving a minimal jangle scape, over which anguished vocals moan and wail, it's a strange combination, but quite compelling, the vocals drop out soon after, and almost the whole second half of the record is just that mesmerizing guitar and drums jam, all jangle and lope, sort of drifty and dreamy and moody, very subtly intense and hypnotic.
The flipside is quite similar, but much more time is spent in black buzz mode, the guitars a thick layer of prickly buzz, over that main riff the anchors all three versions, the track again slipping seamlessly from Burzumy midtempo buzz, to post rock bordering on krautrock groove, the vocals more prevalent, but still that main looping cyclical riff and rhythm keeps us totally enthralled, and could go on forever and ever and we'd keep listening. We're told that these songs may be reworked and added to for a later release, but we actually like them quite a bit how they are, minimal and stripped down, and totally and endlessly mesmerizing.
Pressed on 180 gram vinyl, in an incredibly thick full color gatefold sleeve. The cover and gatefold adorned with gorgeous images of caves and forests, trees, and leaves and lakes, the lp is housed in a printed 12" style inner sleeve (with a hole in the middle), and also contains a small poster of the cover.
Kim Carlsson seems to getting soft on us, or at least more melodic. Gone, it seems, are the days of ultra grim buzzing abject suicidal blackness, the sort of sonic filth he spewed in the early days of his group Hypothermia. But we're not complaining, not at all. In fact, even though we've witnessed the sort of consternation this shift has caused in some of our troo black customers, the rest of us are really digging Carlsson's somewhat surprising new trajectory. Most notably in his group Lifelover, who have basically transformed their black metal into a haunting epic doom pop, albeit one rife with demented weirdness (see the review of the new Lifelover elsewhere on this list), but lately more and more in his group Hypothermia, who were never the heaviest band to begin with, but they did buzz and howl with the Burzumic best of them, but record after record, the sound of Hypothermia has grown more and more skeletal, more jangly even, resulting in a shift almost completely away from black metal, and ending up as a sort of lo fi dark jangle post rock, just guitars and drums, the recording very 4track sounding, the guitars mostly clean, very little distortion, the arrangements spare and sprawling, bordering on Krautrock at times.
Carlsson's latest two track chunk of Hypothermic post post black metal comes in the form of Kaffe & Blod (translated to: you guessed it, Coffee And Blood). The title track, takes up a whole side, and for the first half is a loping meandering lazy lope, the guitars spidery and brittle, the drums simple and stripped down, plenty of jangle, the two instruments in a woozy dance, looped into a mesmerizing mantra like progression, that while shifting subtly, manages to entrance in its gorgeous and seemingly unending repetition. The second half does actually offer up some distorted guitar, and just in contrast to the opener it does sound like black metal, but once the track settles in, the sound reveals itself once again to be more of a jangly blackened indie pop, which should definitely hit the spot for folks into Alcest and Amesoeurs and the like. Epic and softly buzz, a little mathy, dark and emotional, but like the first track, no vocals, and a definite hypnotic looped element, ending with a reverby slowcore outro that wouldn't sound out of place on one of our favorite nineties Touch And Go records (Seam anyone?). Really strangely gorgeous.
The flipside, "Dagg" is a 14 minute improvised track, a bit darker, slower, a bit dirgier, the same stripped down lo-fi sound quality, the drums way up in the mix, the guitars clean, but unfurling dark minor key chords, and minimal moody jangle, and even more than the A side, "Dagg" sounds straight out of some nineties mope rock classic. Moody and mournful and meandering, skeletal but still haunting and catchy and mysteriously lovely.
The true black metal hordes might was well give up it seems. As there doesn't seem to be much hope for a return to utter grimness, but in it's own way the music of Hypothermia is still grim and depressive and dark and a bit black, just cloaked in lope and jangle instead of buzz and blast, which suits us just fine.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES! Pressed on super thick vinyl with heavy printed inner sleeves and striking black and white jackets.
There couldn't be a more appropriate name for this Swedish duo, as it's unlikely you'll ever hear anything colder or frostier. This is harsh and frostbitten, depressive and miserable black metal. Full length number two, after last year's Veins, Kold takes their monochromatic miserablism a step further, two tracks, two riffs, okay, maybe four at the most, one track twenty seven minutes long, the other nineteen, each one a loping midtempo buzz, the drums a relentless plod, the guitar a buzz so blurry and indistinct it almost sounds like a drone, and the vocals, well, you thought they were weird on Veins, they're even more strangled and bizarre here, somewhere between an Orcish death rattle and some sort of beast vomiting up its last meal, sometimes mumbling in a strange mewling grunt, other times a leather lunged glass throated growl, you can almost feel the blood and spittle. But it's the perfect compliment to the music. Hateful, sorrowful, suicidal, depressive, the sound of Kold is just that, so cold and lonely, emotional and intense. About three quarters of the way through the first track, the distorted guitar drops out leaving just a jangly clean guitar, drums and vocals, which is unexpected for sure, but ends up sounding strangely emotionally charged. Soon the vocals drop out too and it's just drums and clean guitar and it almost sounds like some outsider bedroom indie rock, before the buzz kicks back in and the track unwinds in a Burzumic blaze of frosty buzz.
The second track may be even weirder, a blown out buzzy riff, and even doomier rhythmic plod, and the vocals are completely unhinged, falsetto screams, what sounds like that weird breathing-in-backwards singing, growling and grunting and shrieking and wailing hysterically, all over a surprisingly lilting minor key dirge, buzzing and droning, epic yet surprisingly melodic, with another surprise right at the end, a three minute clean-guitar and drum coda, simple garage-y drumming, sort of shuffling and crashing beneath some truly moody jangly strum.
Another gloriously grim and frostbitten slab of ultra depressive black metal dirge from these Swedes. Their last two discs were serious AQ faves, their monochromatic blackened plod totally mesmerizing and entrancing. And this one is no different. Rakbladsvalsen begins with an epic 34 minute blast of suicidal black stomp, but like the last few discs, there is a seriously melodic element lurking beneath the buzzing and pounding. In fact, at moments, the melody is almost dreamy, like some jangly indie rock band was possessed by the dark lord, transforming their bright jangle into dark buzz, but never fully letting go of that innate melodic purity.
Mournful and melancholy, the main riff repeated over and over and over and over, the drums shifting occasionally from simple plod to stumbling blast and back again, the vocals harsh and haggard, so pained and anguished, but again, like the music, strangely pretty (in a strangled to death sort of way). The song is relentless, the only real shifts over the 30+ minutes are when the drums drop out, leaving the riff to buzz and hover briefly, until the drums once again kick in and the band lurches back into it's crushing black dirge. Theoretically, even though the disc is separated into 4 tracks, they are parts one through four of the same track, and minus the gaps, they do sort of sound like it, the same (or very similar) key, the same lurching loping tempo, harsh and brittle and buzzing and black, but always subtly jangly.
The final track is the surprise, expanding on what the band had only hinted at before on past releases, a gorgeous post rock jam, simple and minor key, the guitar sound clean, the riff moody and melancholy, the drums a simple math rock groove, the guitar switches lazily between muted minor key melodies, like some June Of 44 or Slint rehearsal recording, two simple parts, both quite lovely, no blown out buzzing blackness, just a dreamy extended instrumental workout, that demonstrates quite well, that slow and moody can be just as powerful and dark as grim and buzzy.
Finally after years of demos and splits and cassette tape releases, the first proper full length from Swedish suicidal black metallers Hypothermia. You might remember Hypothermia from their split with Dimhymn, in the review of which we described their sound as "Epic fuzzed out glacial dirge, with thick riffs spread out in a black smear, the drums a caveman plod, and some of the most fucked vocals ever: weird, something-caught-in-the-throat sort of strangulated grunts and mewls, guttural growls and strange falsetto-y squeaks." And not too much has changed. In fact, Hypothermia's final track on that split was an "epic 16 minute midtempo buzzscape, [with] looped riffs, totally repetitive and hypnotic..." and dang if Veins isn't three of those, each a massive buzzing midtempo black dirge, slowly pounding drums, simple raw hypnotic riffing, repeated and repeated, into a mesmerizing musical mantra, the relentless buzz blurring into near drones, and anguished, cries of utter agony, over swirls of dismal black buzz.
Definitely for fans of Burzum, Nortt, Make A Change... Kill Yourself, Silencer, Xasthur and other purveyors of doomic black hate.
And if the music weren't depressed and dismal enough, the sleeve sports some seriously horrific and blood drenched images, bloody slit wrists, the word failure carved into an arm, a bathtub splattered with blood, and all the lyrics written in blood on blood soaked paper towels...
You might remember Hypothermia from their amazing split with Dimhymn a few months back, and we review the killer Durthang tape elsewhere on this list. But these two Swedish purveyors of bleak lifeless doomic black metal are the perfect match up.
Hypothermia's side is an ultra lo fi blast of midtempo buzz, super murky, almost like a practice space recording, with strangled vocals, and some killer riffing. Definitely some serious cult black brutality.
The flipside is two loooong tracks from Durthang, and further convinces us that this could very well be one of our new favorite black metal hordes. A strangely clean sound, but nice fuzzy riffing and way up in the mix drumming. Mournful melodies over relentless double kick drumming. Cool arpeggiated guitar lines over swirling buzzing blackness and blown out distorted vocal shrieks. A darkly depressive Burzumic buzz wrapped around melancholy minor key misery. So good. And so far the only Durthang recording available are on ultra cult cassette tape only!!
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Wow, we've been waiting for someone to tell the definitive story behind one of Korea's most influential but sadly obscure guitarists and bandleaders. How influential? Well, Fender Guitars has recently made the 72 year old psych-rock veteran his own Custom Shop Tribute Series Guitar - the sixth one ever, after Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Jimi Hendrix and Eddie Van Halen. How obscure?
Well, every past review in which we've ever mentioned him, his name has had a slightly different spelling. We couldn't find much written about him except that he was considered the "Godfather of Korean Rock". His signature song, the 18 minute epic, "Beautiful Rivers And Mountains" has been featured on two other releases we reviewed but with different titles and lengths. An edited version closed the Asian installment of the Love, Peace and Poetry series under the title, "Korean Title A2" by Jung Hyun and The Men, and the Shin Jung Hyun and The Men cd we listed in the past, credits the song as "Beautiful Country", at least that one had the full length version.
The edited 10 minute version is featured here too, but it's understandable given that this is a compilation that highlights how multifaceted his career has been through this fertile 16-year period, often playing behind singers who got top billing (Kim Sun, Kim Jung Mi, Jang Hyun and Lee Jung Hwa) or in a variety of Ga-yo (pop-rock) groups (Golden Grapes. ADD4, Bloozetet, Club Date, The Donkeys, etc.), But Shin Joong Hyun's signature guitar style, moody and soulful, but with a fuzzy, distorted grooviness, is evident throughout. What's even more amazing is Hyun's arranging skills, often augmenting his guitar sound with trippy psych organ and big booming drum tones (check out the opening break on "The Man Who Must Leave" to see what we mean).
Hyun got his start in the late fifties when he found lucrative work playing on American army bases after the Korean War. The opening track "Moon Watching" is from that period. It also afforded him the opportunity to stretch out stylistically away from the Korean traditional pop sound, into more western influenced pop, R&B and psychedelic styles. But while Hyun's songwriting and arranging is often hook-inflected and groovy, there is a serious soulfulness to the songs that give them a powerful melancholic quality. For instance, Kim Jung Mi's "The Sun" sounds like a song Galaxie 500 might have ripped off and made their own (maybe they did?). Jang Hyun's "Sunset" could have easily been featured on that Forge Your Own Chains comp of Heavy Dirges we raved about recently too. As Hyun's career hit the seventies, he was more interested in expanding his guitar sound with his band and moving away from the shorter poppier numbers of his sixties past. "'J' Blues 72" is the longest track on here at 15 minutes and it's all just fuzzy acid-groove freakout.
But it's the title track here that takes the prize for most amazing song. One of our favorite Asian psych tracks ever, it's really interesting to hear the incredible story behind it, as it was sadly the song that led to Hyun's professional undoing and to the beginning of a seven year forced musical exile. It turns out a representative of the corrupt leader of South Korea, Park Jung-hee, called upon Hyun to write a song about him, but he refused. The leader than asked him to write a song about the government and Hyun refused again. So perplexed and understandably, a bit paranoid about the exchange, Hyun retreated and wrote his own song about his feelings toward his country and brought it to his band to record. Since it was an eighteen minute song recorded live, the process of recording was unusually grueling, because if any mistakes were made, the band had to start over. Getting it onto a release was difficult as well because of its length but was eventually added to the B side of the singer Jang Hyun's album, originally called Jang Hyun and The Men which Shin Hyun later renamed Shin Jung Hyun and The Men (which is why we figure there have been many different names of the song and credits). Finally having it recorded, Hyun had the opportunity to perform it on TV. The song, with its simple depictions of how Korea is made up of beautiful nature and people, angered the leader and led to a subsequent country-wide musical ban, and years of interrogation, probation and oppression, until the leader's eventual assassination in 1979. Shin Joong Hyun's return to music after this period has been slow and much more low-key.
Light In The Attic has done a tremendous job compiling these tracks and doing the research into Hyun's topsy-turvy life and career, even getting the man himself to annotate all the recordings with his own personal stories of how they came to be made. With a 40 page full color booklet with photos of record covers and all of the great pop acts Hyun worked with over the period. This is not just a great document of an amazing musician, but a great view into the sixties and seventies pop-world of a little documented region of Asian music. Fans of other old and new Asian psych we love like He 6, San Ul Lim, Korean Black Eyes, Mops, Acid Mothers Temple, Up-Tight, Onna, and Satoshi Sonoda will find much to love here. Highest Recommendation!
A while back we made the Shin Joong Hyun anthology Beautiful Rivers And Mountains put out by the Light In The Attic label a Record Of The Week, and it was deservedly very popular. So hopefully you already know all about this legendary Korean rock n' roller, but if you don't, you could go read that lengthy review for a lot more information. He certainly has had an interesting life and career, with lots of ups and some serious downs; he began playing rock music back in the '50s for the G.I.'s on American military bases, saw a lot of success in the '60s writing hits for an assortment of singers, by the '70s his rebellious rock n' roll attitude landed him on the conservative South Korean government's shitlist, he wound up getting busted for pot and was tortured in an insane asylum and blacklisted, but eventually things changed for the better and his work resumed, though not the same as before, and he still makes music to this day.
What we have here is a 1974 album, the debut from a three-piece unit Shin formed called the Yup Juns ('brass coins'). None of the songs here appear on that Light In The Attic compilation except for one, there in an alternate recording that was used on a film soundtrack. But if you liked what we described in that review as the guitarist's signature style of being "moody and soulful, but with a fuzzy, distorted grooviness" then this album is full of that - awesome Korean '70s poppy psych action that's VERY GROOVY indeed, with an exotic, Asiatic flair. Halfway through the album, the track "I Love You" seems to channel some traditional Buddhist chant, with bells and percussion in lieu of Shin's guitar, a placid interlude amidst the other songs which look to get heads bopping and hips swivelling out on the dancefloor.
The compact disc version of this comes in a miniature-lp-style sleeve, and includes a thick 20 page booklet with extensive liner notes, lyrics and photos, which are also included with the 180 gram vinyl version. And it's an official release, in cooperation with Shin Joong Hyun himself. Nicely done, so happy to have this.
This week we happen to be listing another reissue from 1974 by another international psych guitar great, Erkin Koray. What Erkin Koray is to Turkey, we suppose you could say Shin Joong Hyun is to South Korea. We recommend getting both albums, while they draw from totally different cultures and traditions (well, except for rock n' roll), they're both great and it'd be tough to decide between the two...
Another one for everybody who loved the groovy HE 6 album we listed not long ago! Guitar player Shin Jung Hyun was a big deal in the South Korean rock n' roll scene, going as far back as the '50s, when he played for the GIs on American military bases. His music even was apparently the subject of a tribute album a few years ago. In the late sixties/early seventies psychedelia took hold, and Shin Jung Hyun did it as well or better than anyone... totally funky, tripped-out, acid-rock freakdom. Lots and lots of acid-fuzz guitar jamming with bass, drums, organ and some flute too. Maybe for that reason this reminds us a bit of Dungen, actually. The material on this album (which may actually be entited It's A Lie, we're not sure) dates around 1972 or so. Though 44 minutes long, there's just three songs here, "Beautiful Country", "It's A Lie" and "Woman In The Mist", all consequently long and meandering (yet rhythmically tight, believe it), and mostly instrumental. It seems that these three might have originally been the extended flip-sides to shorter, more commerical cuts, compiled onto this disc for the benefit of anyone into far-out psych jamming as wedded to Asian pop of the era. Not so much heavy as it is simply seriously groovy and right-on, Shin Jung and The Men blend garage rock/surf/Frisco ballroom styles into a head-nodding, toe-tapping, mind-blowing, utterly dazzling unravelling of whatever "song" it seems they started off playing. That means: the singer does some nice kinda soft psych pop crooning to start things off, but he soon disappears and the band just takes off into outer realms, doing their thing and stretching out without care for commerical (radio play) considerations. Eventually the singer shows up again, but it's as if he left the room and then came back in some minutes later to finish the song, utterly unaware of what his band had been up to in the interim! We can only imagine what their live shows were like, must have been killer -- as this disc is, killer.
