[ aquarius records catalogue

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Showing results 151 through 200 of 1631.

Second full length from Louisville / San Francisco-based band who conjure up the warm acoustic guitar / cello / violin dark gothic sound popularized by another Lousiville band Rachel's, then add murmured vocals to bring it down to earth. It's very emotional,

RealAudio clip: That Old Grizzly Thing

Capturing the essence of the Southern Gothic, Louisville-based Halifax Pier has written a beautiful album of epic indie-rock melancholia with all of the breath-taking instrumentation of Rachel's and a vocalist whose emotive drawl recalls Camper Van Beethoven's David Lowery. What ever happened to him?

MPEG stream: Sleight Of Line
MPEG stream: Endless Returns

Dirty four-track recordings. Stoned post-Jandek acoustic guitar strum. Gritty layers of organ drones. That's been the default sound of the Siltbreeze label; and by and large, most things on Siltbreeze that take on this sound are pretty good at it. Hall of Fame is certainly one of these outfits, sounding a lot like the latest work from Charalambides or a poppier version of Tower Recordings. So it wouldn't be surprising to learn that Hall of Fame features members of Tower Recordings!

There's really no way to start this review without a seemingly over the top declaration. NYC's Railroad Jerk were one of the best, and sadly most unsung bands of the last 20 years. And while Railroad Jerk front man Marcellus Hall is probably better known to the world at large as an illustrator, whose done work for the New Yorker, the Atlantic Monthly, the New York Press, Time, as well as numerous covers for novels, but for us, Hall will always be the swaggery, silver tongued frontman for the late great 'Jerk. The sound of Railroad Jerk was feral and bluesy, super rhythmic and percussive, like a stripped down, less dumb Blues Explosion (WAY less dumb and WAY more awesome), the sort of band you might see set up on a street corner on some shady street in New York, just killing it. They reminded us a little of bands like Cop Shoot Cop, but minus the industrial heft, and in it's place, something more slithery and sexy, their sound fierce and frantic, like a gritty sort of twang flecked junkyard blues, and Hall's super distinctive voice and guitar pretty much defined their sound. Post Railroad Jerk, Hall started White Hassle, whose sound was not all that far removed from Railroad Jerk's, but since then we've heard almost nothing, until now. The First Line is the first proper release featuring Hall and his new band The Hostages, and while his voice sounds as good as ever, the sound is much more stripped down, a sort of twang flecked Americana / folk, mostly acoustic guitar, a lot of cello, some shuffling percussion, a little slide here and there, some harmonica, but as always, it's all about Hall, his voice so rich and mellifluous, but definitely unique and distinctive, still subtly swaggery, his lyrics snarky and a little brainy, but much more romantic and heartfelt than in Railroad Jerk, the arrangements simple and spare, the sort of sound that seems like it could catapult Hall beyond the underground rock ghetto he should have ruled with Railroad Jerk, but even for those of us who call that selfsame underground rock ghetto home, this still sounds pretty fantastic, think Jay Farrar, Peter Case, David Eugene Edwards, and actually, come to thing of it, Edwards might be the most apt comparison, the same sort of fire and passion, a similarly super unique voice, a vocal style that's equal parts crooning and testifying, but unlike the apocalyptic fire and brimstone of Edwards outfit, Hall's combo is something else altogether, much more subdued, mellow and strummy, but in some ways just as intense and passionate. Fantastic stuff, we can't get enough of Hall's voice, and while we love love love The First line, we'll never stop missing Railroad Jerk... Super swank packaging, the cd in a fold out digipak, alongside a 44 page book of illustrations by Hall, all housed in a full color slipcover. The lp version includes a similar book, albeit in a large format 12 page version, is pressed on 180 gram vinyl, and comes with a download card.

MPEG stream: The First Line
MPEG stream: Star Position
MPEG stream: Neon, Not The Night
MPEG stream: Laughing With You

It doesn't always work out that when frontmen from heavy bands begin to fancy themselves troubadours, ditching all the distortion and metallic bombast and laying everything bare, it's the sort of thing that in the worst case can reveal all the shortcomings that are disguised by all that volume, and all those other instruments, we've seen plenty of ultra painful unplugged sets, that were just begging to be plugged back in. But in the best cases, like this, the solo debut from Nate Hall, frontman for psychedelic heavies US Christmas, it can demonstrate just why the heavy stuff is so compelling, cuz there are actual songs lurking underneath, and a vocalist who can actually sing, and has a knack for classic songsmithery. To be fair, it's not like the singer from Cannibal Corpse making a psych folk record (oh how we want to hear that now!), since US Christmas is essentially just a supercharged cranked up more metallic version of a psych folk band anyway. And plenty of the songs here actually sound like they could easily have been retooled into proper US Christmas jams, but that doesn't take away from how good they sound. Hall's voice is a slightly raspy croon that reminds us a bit of Nikki Sudden, ragged and rough around the edges, but it's perfect for USX and perfect for these songs here. Rooted around simple strummed acoustic guitar, but wreathed in thick swaths of distorted effected psych guitars, theremin here and there, a bit of slide guitar, plenty of echo and reverb, the songs droned out and a little druggy, there's even a killer cover of Townes Van Zandt's "Kathleen", and Hall definitely makes it his own, adding some cavernous reverb, but for the most part playing it straight. Helps that it's such a great song, and Hall's got the kind of voice that can do justice to a song that was basically already perfect (not sure why Hall wasn't included on the recent three way Townes Van Zandt tribute with Scott Kelly, Steve Von Till and Wino). But not all the tracks are so psychedelic, a handful of the songs here are even more stripped down, no electric guitars, just straight up Appalachia, steel string guitar and banjo, and those tracks kill as well. Folks into other psych folk should check this out for sure, and heck who knows, this might be the gateway that gets you into US Christmas that gets you into other heavy stuff, it's a slippery slope, but we're all waiting for you down here at the bottom!

MPEG stream: The Earth In One Cell
MPEG stream: Dark Star
MPEG stream: Kathleen

Graham Halliwell is one of the practitioners of what has been dubbed the New London Silence, a taxonomic distinction which may have more to do with geography than stylistic differences. Lowercase, microwave, and onkyo have been other adjectives applied to Halliwell's particular sensibility, in defining quiet compositions and improvisations within the avant-garde (e.g. Alvin Lucier, Morton Feldman, Phill Niblock, etc.). Regardless of what you want to call it, Halliwell has applied a reductionist methodology to his instrument of choice: the saxophone. On Recorded Delivery, Halliwell presents a series of duets with likeminded musicians, two of which could fit into the New London Silence school as well (being that they're also from London) and the other being the Los Angeles sound artist Steve Roden. The first track finds Halliwell with harpist Rhodi Davies; and the two generate a quiet soundfield that is deceptively dangerous as the intersection of their acoustic drones from sax feedback and ebowed harp can manifest headsplitting frequencies even at very low volumes due to the purity of those sounds. The second duet is between Halliwell and Steve Roden; and while Halliwell's input appears to be minimal (perhaps just giving Roden some quiet tones), Roden's manipulation of Halliwell's sound is spectacular. If you've ever had the opportunity to see Roden live (and in all likelihood, been blown away by his breathtakingly minimal / gorgeous sets), then you'll know what to expect. He's got two delay pedals through which he captures looping passages that build into a mass of hypnotic shimmer and mirrored sinewave drone that have an impressive melodic quality. The third and final contribution is between Halliwell and tam-tam player Mark Wastell, who together concoct a sparkling drone of metallic vibration and wave pattern. Beautifully done.

MPEG stream: Beat
MPEG stream: Resonantlighttones Revisited
MPEG stream: Vibra 3

Does that name sound familiar to you? It should. After all, "Hallo Gallo" was the opening track on Neu!'s legendary debut album. So who would have the gall to name their band after a Neu! track (besides Negativland we mean), well, Hallo Gallo 2010 just so happens to be the new band of Neu!'s Michael Rother, who is joined by Sonic Youth's Steve Shelley (whose Vampire Blues label released this) and Aaron Mullen from Tall Firs, for some modern day krautrocking, Neu! style, and somehow it does manage to channel the classic sound and spirit of the original with something more dense and psychedelic. Motorik and rhythmic (of course), "Blinkgurtel" is gorgeous and hazy and washed out and mesmerizing, Shelley's simple solid drumming perfectly locked in with Mullen's warm fluid basslines, and Rothers's incendiary guitars, thick thrumming riffs, soaring psychedelic melodies, all gently phased and flanged into something gorgeously trippy and otherworldly, getting downright rocking near the end. "Drone Schlager" is much more muted and restrained, a simple pulse like groove, with little rhythmic flurries here and there, the bass a deep throb, the guitars, cyclical and looped, strange production has the guitars dropping out and swooping into the foreground, totally stripped down and utterly mesmerizing, another one of those tracks that could go on forever, but instead, winds down after 5 minutes, pretty much ensuring you'll have to play it again. So good, and not just past laurels good, this is as dark and mesmerizing and hypnotic as anything out today. Circle fans especially will probably go nuts for this. LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES, housed in hand screened covers, comes with a download card too!

Latest from upstart UK import label MIE, who have been killing it lately. The recent reissue of Gate's Dew Line, which we made a Record Of The Week, the even more recent Pelt double lp, also records from Part Wild Horses Mane On Both Sides and Pelican offshoot Chord, and now this, a vinyl reissue of Hallock Hill's debut, a gorgeous collection of layered slowburn psychedelia, acoustic and electric guitars, reverb and echo and delay, all deftly woven into sweetly smoldering, improvised soundscapes, that remind us alternately of Scott Tuma, Jack Rose, Steven R. Smith, Ben Chasny. Hallock Hill is a fellow named Tom Lecky, a name you probably don't know, but after hearing this, we can't imagine it will be too long before he's mentioned in the same breath as Tuma and Rose and Chasny and all the rest. The tracks here all seem to bleed into one another, from echo drenched abstract psychedelic drifts, to dark brooding folk flecked shimmer, to lush dense intricate Appalachia. Haunting and hushed one second, loose and freeform the next, little flurries of notes wreathed in drifting harmonics, strings are scraped and plucked, the body of the guitar thumped, lots of buzz and hum and shimmer, but all wrapped around gorgeous bits of melancholic melody, notes allowed to ring out, swimming in swirling seas of overtones, the occasional backward studio swoop adding some subtle trippiness, but for the most part, it's Lecky's deft arrangements that drive these lovely landscapes of psychedelic folk, a hazy early evening, cloud cloaked sky sort of vibe that occasionally blossoms into something sunshinier, but utterly dreamy throughout. Another essential addition to your modern psych / psych guitar collection. Packaged in a super swank heavy gatefold, and includes a glossy book of photos and poetry (lyrics?).

MPEG stream: I Began To Lose Myself Within A Wonder
MPEG stream: Sand In My Eyes
MPEG stream: Ausable
MPEG stream: Grow
MPEG stream: Downstairs, Up Hearing

Hallow is a group of blackened noisemakers loosely related to blacknoise merchants Ancestors (whose new ep is reviewed elsewhere on this list) and their debut double lp is in fact the soundtrack to an art show by Hallow mainman (only man?) Mark McCoy, who is also the mainman of Ancestors, which means the two are probably more than loosely related. Fuck. Who are we kidding, Hallow sound like a meaner, less black metal, more fucked up hardcore Ancestors, and anyone, and we mean ANYone who loves those Ancestors records, absolutely needs this too. In addition to fronting these to monstrous metallic behemoths, McCoy also creates some super intense artwork, strange assemblages of ruined buildings, of crumbling riggings, collapsing structures suspended in space, intricate to the point of being the work of a madman, these drawings are captivating, incredible, precise and ultra detailed, and in their own way, they are imbued with some sort of fucked up energy, they seem, sad, they seem violent, abandoned, lonely, possessed, EVIL even. And thus, McCoy created Hallow, who recorded a series of songs, of soundtracks, each to accompany one of his pieces. Included is a booklet, oversized, featuring the various drawings, it's up to the listener to determine which song, accompanies which drawing. But again, it hardly matters, on their own, the images are breathtaking, and the music, even minus the art, Hallow create a serious racket. The A side plays out like an Ancestors records, a bunch of short sharp tracks, furious frenetic post hardcore black metal buzz and pound and blast, super harsh, hellish, hateful, awesomely buzzy riffs, wildly blasting beats, walls of feedback wrapped around lurching anti-grooves, the songs stuttering and lumbering and exploding into jagged freakouts before locking back into some churning rhythm or white hot blast. The B side is split into two longer tracks, sonically similar to the A side in some ways, but a whole different beast in others, the first a noisy depressive dirge, epic and spacious, definitely doomy, the guitars heavily distorted and processed, effects all over the place, the vocals insane and harsh and noisy draped over the sheets of buzz and blur and the spaced out plod below. While the second track is similarly plodding and depressive, the sound is even more blown out, the guitars blindingly effulgent, all of the sounds on the verge of total collapse, but at the same time strangely melodic and epic. The second record is split into two sidelong tracks, and for some reason we can only think they accompany the images on the front and back cover. The first is a thick corrosive noisescape equal parts Wolf Eyes and Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, caustic and abject, tangled strands of feedback wound around thick heaving slabs of distorted low end, all melted down into something thick and black and viscous. The flipside is super abstract, all high end, chittering, chirping, stuttering, squeaking shards of upper register squelch and glitch, Morse code beeps, chirping crickets, wheezing creaks, a hauntingly melodic field of fragmented skree, chaotic and abrasive, but also textural and abstract and actually sort of beautiful. LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!! Gorgeous packaging, striking McCoy drawings on the front and back, pressed on thick vinyl, inside a thick oversized booklet featuring all of McCoy's drawings and some practically unreadable liner notes.

With a name like Hallowed Butchery, we had a good idea of what was in store. Then we saw the cover art, not necessarily metal looking if you weren't expecting such, and the touching dedication of Funeral Rites For The Living to HB overlord Ryan Fairfield's wife and daughter. That seemed to soften up our expectations. Then we actually listened to Hallowed Butchery. And, um, yeah, this is some filthy as fuck, abject, miserable, doom-laden metal, blackened for sure but not "black metal" per se, and however you want to define it, just plain VILE! The sounds are so insanely heavy that it's like things are going to be pulled into a black hole where they will remain swirling about in perpetual negativity. The vocals are a harsh, guttural gurgle, scary and forceful but buried in the mix as another layer of sound, sometimes sounding a bit like a guy getting ready to puke up his innards. At the same time, there are many moments on here that are just plain beautiful, especially when Fairfield strums out some dolorous tunes on his acoustic guitar. The sadness on display is no doubt genuine, and the lyrics follow a path of hopelessness and despair. Reading them alongside the aforementioned dedication, as well as the heartfelt thank you list, makes it clear that Fairfield is someone with a realistic view on the woes of this world, which is always a cool thing in a scene where everyone is trying to put on some phony air of being "evil". Fuck that. This stuff also has a pronounced industrial vibe, offering a sonic beatdown that will surely appeal to fans of groups like Gnaw Their Tongues, Human Quena Orchestra, and Nekrasov. The super dense, crushing doomscapes conjure up some post-industrial meltdown, and the electronic ambience gives things a very disconcerting feeling, sometimes sounding a bit like some of Current 93's more recent work actually. Then, after getting your ass handed to you on a platter, Fairfield brings things down a notch with a GORGEOUS cover of Neil Young's "After The Gold Rush," so SO awesome, not to mention pretty much completely unexpected. Things are pretty straightforward, at least until it becomes the first doom metal Neil Young cover that we know of. Suppose we shouldn't be surprised at this point, but one man projects like this always get us; how could one dude be responsible for such a thick slab of concentrated negativity? Dunno, but this is definitely hitting the spot.

MPEG stream: A Wake For The Human Race
MPEG stream: Pantheon Enthroned
MPEG stream: Great North Woods
MPEG stream: After The Gold Rush

This is some serious grim and brutal business, this here new Halo record. So slow, and chaotic, and sludgy and crushing. With feedback spraying wildly from beneath the hyper-dense black hole riffs, tortured vocals, clawing their way up in the mix, fingers bleeding and bruised, a bass sound that is like puncturing your skull and filling it with concrete, and drums that sound like John Bonham trying to beat his way out of a tar pit. Think Godflesh, Swans, Skepticism, but then slow it down, drug it, down tune it, and get the fuck out of the way. This is doom metal played by crusty punks, industrial music played by Eyehategod, the Butthole Surfers covering Earth. The almost industrial precision of their first record has eroded just enough to let the band sort of sprawl, and throb, the sound is psychedelic, but not in the traditional sense, this is dark and druggy and hypnotic, and lulls you to sleep as much as it makes you want to overturn cop cars and set them on fire.

MPEG stream: Buried In Light
MPEG stream: Meat

We hadn't heard from Aussie industrial crushers Halo in ages, so this lp was definitely a pleasant surprise, a long overdue reissue of an out of print cd-r. Halo released two of our favorite records, both on Relapse, both punishing and epic, downtuned and fierce as fuck, but also atmospheric and haunting, their sound somewhere between Swans, Godflesh, early Earth, Neurosis, Eyehategod, diSEMBOWELMENT, Gore, Cop Shoot Cop and Whitehouse, thick low slung bass buzz, pounding pummeling drum crush, as well as various electronics and tape loops, the duo whipping up a sound that sounded like it came from a much bigger beast. Degree Point Of Zero Implosion was originally released way back in 2000, and finds the band sounding super raw, but with a sound already fully formed, a sort of abstract doom sludge drone industrial, the drums pounding out simple monstrous earth shaking plods, the buzzing strings not so much producing riffs, as seismic waves, thick swells of rumble and thrum, the sound shifting from spaced out minimal drift to full on corrosive howling crush, the sound fleshed out by all manner of electronics and samples, of textures and loops, the songs brooding and slow building, super ambient and atmospheric, creepy and ominous and sinister, the vocals usually buried way down in the mix, but sometimes howling over the band's lumbering din. Often clean, but just as often a guttural, heavily effected death metal style bellow, the songs wrapped in coruscating crumbling guitar drones, moaning, keening fractured melodies, sheets of hiss and howl, or super distorted, impossibly downtuned ultradoom chug. This shit is so dense and brutal and powerful and heavy and epic, anyone into the current crop of slow and low heavies (Khanate, Moss, Bunkur, Monarch, Habsyll, Atavist, The Body, Otesanek, Human Quena Orchestra, Salome, Orthodox, Nihill, etc.) who hasn't checked out Halo, you have been missing out BIG TIME. LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!!

MPEG stream: Constriction
MPEG stream: Contortion
MPEG stream: Suspension

Halo are easily one of the heaviest, creepiest, most intense bands we have heard in a long time. This Australian two piece (bass and drums, voice and electronics) spit out such a massive sound it's hard to get your head around. Lurching, pummelling, sludgy, slow-motion doom versus squealing, speaker shredding, super distorted power electronics. Think Godflesh and Neurosis and Earth and Whitehouse and Cop Shoot Cop, and Gore and Noisegate and the Melvins, with the treble turned to zero, the bass turned to ten, and about 1000 extra amps, turned on, buzzing and squealing and rumbling, as Halo channel all of this unbridled energy into huge molten riffs that stretch out into near ambient dirges. Static, hum and hiss swarm wildly in and out of the mix, and occasionally everything drops out until all that's left is blurry static ambience and stray rattles and rumbles, until the two-headed beast struggles free and lurches madly forward again. Fucking amazing.

RealAudio clip: Rise
RealAudio clip: The Entwined
RealAudio clip: How Hollow

Calvin of Beat Happening and Doug Martsch of Built to Spill. "Turn Me Up" sez Calvin, repeatedly, in complete deadpan monotone.

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

SORRY.

Laurel Halo's last record, Quarantine, was a big hit around there, but it was also maybe her most divisive album yet, the vocals being a big sticking point for some, those vocals seemed to be the defining element of that record, in a way they had never been before. The vocals stark and unaffected, meant to ascribe a sort of fragility and vulnerability to LH's voice, but for some people, the heavily sample/processed vocals of the earlier releases were sorely missed. So for those folks, Chance Of Rain might just might do the trick, as it is, as far as we can tell, almost entirely instrumental, barring a few sample snippets here and there. And as if to make up for the missing vocals, the rhythms seem to have been pushed to the fore, cranked up to the point that much of Chance Of Rain almost sounds like Laurel Halo's take on Footwork. Think DJ Rashad, RP Boo, DJ Nate, Young Smoke, Halo seeming to build her psychedelic electronic landscapes from maddeningly repetitive loops and samples, often it's subtle, those stuttering loops blurred into dreamy Field like electro-bliss, but just as often, those repeated rhythms add fantastic tension, the best moments for us being when the sound is dialed WAY down, the looped stutter muted and minimal, the sound locked into a tranced out hypno-groove, that could go on forever! Plenty of the record harkens back to past Laurel Halo jams, but even the familiar sounds are recast, even the dreamiest tracks, dark with sonic tension, rife with brooding minor key melancholia, lush textures in constant motion, except when they're not, and the tracks seem to lock into a glorious moment of sonic stasis, only to launch right back into the song proper. The sounds themselves tend toward the murky, the record for the most part super dark, shadowy and muted, but then a track like "Thrax" bursts out of the mire, a gout of sci-fi skitter, and synthed out squelch, only to slip right back into another sprawl of murk-house footwork minimalism, a fantastic blast of claustrophobic skittery electro-gloom, which is fast making this maybe our favorite Laurel Halo record yet...

MPEG stream: Oneiroi
MPEG stream: Serendip
MPEG stream: Chance Of Rain

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SORRY. Record number two from this new wave dreamgaze ambient electro wave songstress, and just like the first one it's a dizzying blend of synthed out electro, dark witch house-y creep and shoegazey 4AD style dream pop, all woven into a gorgeous, groovy bit of electronic skitter and stutter, but unlike the first record, this one seems to be mostly instrumental, the only real vocals seem to be sampled, and then processed and manipulated, conjuring up the same sort of murky abstract soul as Burial or How To Dress Well, but here, that's wedded to something much more upbeat and propulsive, record opener is serious groover, all hazy layered vocal samples, skittery big beats, and wooshy synths, not to mention some buzzy basslines and washed out shoegazey ambience. The second track does have vocals, but it's more like she's using her voice to make layers of sound, long tones held forever and wreathed in echo and delay, while beats careen undeneath, and all around shimmery melodies whirl and swirl, it's the one song here that most resembles the first record, channeling a little Zola Jesus, Tamaryn, etc. Track three, "Head" starts out all glitchy and minimal, before exploding in a psychedelic squall, only to dissipate leaving a super minimal, skeletal heroin house pulse, while "Speed Of Rain" is the most polished and new wavey, heavy on the swirly dreamy 4AD shimmer, only to quickly give way to the 9 minute title track, which is low slung and ominous, taking some of that Goblin / Carpenter soundtrack sound and fusing it to something much more groovy and druggy and later night, and then finally there's the closer, "Strength In Free Space", which is the dreamiest of the bunch, another vocal driven song, but even more then the other one, this one's all hazy and gauzy and washed out and dreamy, like a much less lo-fi dancefloor friendly Grouper, which is most certainly not a bad thing.

MPEG stream: Aquifer
MPEG stream: Constant Index

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

SORRY. Yet another addition to the ever expanding ambient dreamgaze electro-wave songstress scene, which is a genre we just made up, but one that does sort of actually exist, if not in name, certainly in sound, modern musicians channeling the spirit of early 4AD, eighties and nineties dance music, Kate Bush, Siouxsie, and similarly shoegazey/gothic electronic pop, into something swirling and ethereal and space-y and groovy and rhythmic and well, like a more MODERN gothic shoegazey electro pop. Ladies like Zola Jesus, Tamaryn, Glasser, and the like, now joined by Laurel Halo, a one woman newwavedreamgaze band from NYC by way of Michigan, Halo channels an abstract, danceable and slightly witchy mutant form of electronica, a little bit of the outsider home brewed R&B of How To Dress Well, a little of the witch house sound of her pals Balam Acab, a little synthy new wave drift a la another of her pals Oneohtrix Point Never, but all filtered through the Cocteau Twins, and Kate Bush, and classic decades-ago MTV, and transformed into a delicate, crystalline, but still seriously propulsive and groovy bit of drifty, floaty, washed out echo drenched eighties style electronic pop, but with plenty of that modern futuristic retro sheen, that has the club kids all in a tizzy.

MPEG stream: Supersymmetry
MPEG stream: Metal Confection

WOW! Hyperdub kills it again (see Dean Blunt and Inga Copeland's new jam Black Is Beautiful, reviewed last list)! Quarantine is the debut full length from Laurel Halo, whose previous ep releases are among some of our favorite in modern experimental electronic pop music, and here on her first full length, she presents us with a work that is both explorative and deeply emotive. The tunes here are more on the King Felix ep side of things, in that they are most definitely "songs" (as opposed to her more experimental techno leanings on the Hour Logic ep, and the music she makes under the somewhat confusing King Felix moniker). Beautiful intertwining multi-tracked vocal melodies floating on top of layers and layers of gorgeous cosmic synth drones, muted rumbling drum machines, and amorphous atmospherics ricocheting from one ear to the other, but all beautifully placed in the mix, giving it a subtle sort of hypnotic quality. "Airsick", the first jam, is an underwater, gurgling and bubbling beauty. Plenty of space for her voice to be the focus, but underneath a woozy piano sample rubs up against some projector reel like hiss rhythms, while dreamy synths play the progression with ease. All the lines are blurred and the music seems to effortlessly expand and contract. This sort of natural, organic confidence is a strand that continues throughout Quarantine, the sounds totally spaced out, yet reigned in in a way that ultimately ends up bolstering the quality of the song. The third number "Thaw" starts with a deep and dark square wave drone with looped atonal strings and pitch bent bells eventually giving way to an absolutely BEAUTIFUL broken and bouncy arpeggiated progression. Slowly, new sounds are subliminally introduced, delay drenched and 'verbed to the max skree, and oscillating chirps swelling underneath the sheen of the song. All the while the vocal melodies, double tracked and harmonized the whole time, remain very much exposed above the mix, with very little effects, giving the lyrics and delivery a vulnerable feeling, which is an extremely interesting effect when paired with such far-out sonic experimentation. "Carcass" which is undeniably the darkest and weirdest tune of the bunch (and possibly our fave) is an industrial tinged, hypno-trance bubbling acidic roller. A pitch black, syncopated bass synth line unfurls, the filters opening and closing slowly, as the deep and cold synth squelch and atonal high pitch textures swirl and morph. Layers of synth and samples coalesce into an altogether punchdrunk outta body high, and than suddenly the vocals enter. The vocals on "Carcass" are astounding! Pitch shifted and bent all out of shape, her voice sounding like it's being transmitted from some wayward space station, the feedback of the faulty connection providing dark space overtones to an already harrowing vocal melody. GORGEOUS! And a little scary and overwhelming. We could go on and on, as all the tracks here are excellent, but why spoil all the fun of discovery! Quarantine is fast becoming a favorite around here, and with good reason. Laurel Halo's music is extremely blissful, but not in a "shoegazey" sort of way, or really in any sort of way that you can pinpoint a super specific reference. Those references are of course there, but she blurs the lines with a deft hand. It's a new type of bliss. Futuristic bliss! A very bold, beautiful, inventive, and wholly singular record. Very, very impressive debut. Can't wait to hear what's next!

MPEG stream: Thaw
MPEG stream: Joy
MPEG stream: Carcass
MPEG stream: Holoday

Situated at the crossroads of downtempo and dream pop you'll find Halou. This veteran SF band's latest release, their first in six years, is alternately velvety plush, crystalline and ethereal. Washes of processed strings and stuttery rhythms form the dominant backdrop to Rebecca Coseboom's vocals. Very reminiscent of Portishead, but Coseboom's vocal delivery is higher and more cooingly girlish than that of Beth Gibbons. It keeps Wholeness & Separation's overall mood in lighter, more vaporous territory. That said, at the sixth track ("Stonefruit") they unexpectedly flex their modern rock muscles. It's to good effect, and very much along the lines of Elastica, Lush, Metric, Garbage. Then the trio gets back to their more familiar elegance. Psst, this is another of the uncommonly sumptuous array of releases from the young music label Dynamophone. As we mentioned earlier in the review of labelmates Balustrade Ensemble, they've only been around since mid-2006, but already have a bountiful catalog with many more on the way. Particularly if you've been recently enjoying the aquatic drone releases on the Mystery Sea label, you might wish to check out the seemingly likeminded, but more melodically inclined Dynamophone artists. An absolute treasure trove of shimmering and dewy listening delights. Delve in immediately (also see: Balustrade Ensemble, Disinterested, Po, Pornopop, A Lily, Curium, and R/R Coseboom)!

MPEG stream: Tubefed
MPEG stream: Stonefruit

Neil Halstead, perhaps best known as the singer/songwriter for Mojave 3 and Slowdive, has crafted a solo album of warm, fragile, wispy folk-pop that completely and totally resembles Nick Drake and Belle & Sebastian. So of course it's plenty pretty and pleasing. Sunny trumpet and guitar counter the melacholic words, and delicate piano, strings and chimes. Very nice.

RealAudio clip: See You On Rooftops

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

SORRY.

Another wild blast of African electronic music from the Sahel Sounds label (who also gave us the Music From Saharan Cellphones comps, and amazing records from Mammane Sani Et Son Orgue, Agali Ag Amoumne, Alkibar Gignor, and tons more!). Much like the tracks on Music From Saharan Cellphones, Hama, a composer/synthesizer player from Niger, enjoyed immense popularity throughout his country via the unlikely music distribution of digital recordings on memory cards, traded and played on cellphones. But it's not just the method of distribution that's special/unique, Hama has created a strange hybrid of influences, from American techno, to African folk music, the resulting sounds are all over the sonic map, some like some spaced out krautrock ("Ataraghine"), others like wild video game music, playful and fun ("Tarhanam"), still others like some avant African kosmische, with the synth sounding almost like an alien bagpipe (or maybe a little reminiscent at times of aQ faves Amps For Christ), the rhythms, motorik, and occasionally robotically funky, the whole thing like some futuristic tranced out Tuareg music. So good. Fans of all the Sahel Sounds releases (as well as everything on Sublime Frequencies, Awesome Tapes From Africa, etc.) will definitely dig big time! LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Hand screened sleeves and hand-stamped labels.

MPEG stream: Tagout
MPEG stream: Ataraghine
MPEG stream: Tarhanam

The local label Out of Round has been laboring quietly in the background, not calling a lot of attention to itself yet turning out record after record that are consistently of similar mood -- due to the fact that they all play on each others recordings. The homegrown label's "sound", then, is one of a grimy circus atmosphere, like Fellini's La Strada if it was set in some dusty corner of an urban American metropolis. There are lots of slowed down polkas and depressed waltz time-signatures, dour vocals, sad accoridans, and dolefully plucked guitars. Great mood music for the Tom Waits fan in all of us who feels like Waits is just too hip for his own good these days. Check out www.outofroundrecords.com -- we carry all of their releases. For a limited time only, get an out of Round Records label sampler free with purchase of this disc.

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

SORRY. The sleeve reads: "A souvenir recording recorded live at the Days Inn, Modesto, CA."

Album number five (or is it six?) from America's "funny" man. This time Neil frames the record in the form of a documentary, with Mr. Hamburger's stand up peppered in between testimonials from people about the 'legendary' Di Presa's Pizza House and Neil Hamburger's fabled career at the fictional restaurant. Guest appearances from the former owner of Di Presa's, its patrons, a health inspector, a food critic and more. Not necessarily funny (but when IS Neil Hamburger actually funny?) but very weird and packed with plenty of WTF moments.

MPEG stream: "Great Moments At Dipresa's
MPEG stream: "Great Moments At Dipresa's

OMG! Automatic Record Of The Week. Hands down. Such a nice surprise, that Ipecac has just reissued this all-time aQ fave on vinyl, originally released back in 1992. Great Phone Calls lives up to its title, it's one of the funniest prank call albums ever made, up there with Kathy McGinty and the best of Longmont Potion Castle. Heck, it's one of the funniest records we've EVER heard, period. Then again, maybe something is wrong with us. In any case, stuff from this album has entered our personal lexicon, catch phrases, you know, like they way people pick up on stuff from SNL. When Great Phone Calls came out so many years ago (1992) it quietly marked the first appearance on record of the now-infamous Neil Hamburger, sad sack comic who has since gone on to great heights of "humor" (or perhaps the term is anti-humor) recording for the Drag City label. The collection of calls here ranges from the aggro bass player who answers a musicians-wanted ad (and insists, "I'm in your band!"), to a fat guy who went to college at "Yaoo" (not Yale) trying to order a low-fat pizza, to a computer giving away tickets to a Bette Midler movie called Hijinx (and its sequel, Hijinx II: Sodom). Some of the calls are borderline offensive, and some jump right over that line, so be forewarned, but it's so worth it anyway. The Hamburger-as-Hamburger tracks are among his best stuff, 'cause unlike later recordings of his live paying-gig performances, here on Great Phone Calls he's trying so desperately just to get a gig, calling comedy clubs and harassing the bookers with his "jokes". The unique brand of comedy on display here really takes things to a demented, ridiculous level, Hamburger essentially delivering extemporaneous monologues to the poor saps on the phone more akin to performance art than anything else. The shaggy dog story of a joke Hamburger tells on the track "A Nationally-Known Comedian" goes on for, like, six minutes. Why his victims don't hang up sooner, we'll never know. He's brilliant, if you've ever doubted it, this is the proof. Originally out on Amarillo, this was reissued on cd - and now on lp - by Mike Patton's Ipecac label, and he makes an uncredited sneak appearance on the record too.

MPEG stream: I'm In Your Band
MPEG stream: Hijinx
MPEG stream: (Write My) Name On The Toilet

America's (Australia's?) Funnyman is back with another painful session of not-too-funny standup "comedy". And that, of course, is the joke. Brilliant as usual.

What can I say? America's favorite worst comedian has released yet another album. It's been eight years since Neil Hamburger, a.k.a. Gregg Turkington, released his first 7" on Amarillo Records and with this release now has a roster of 6 full length albums and three 7" singles. This time round, along with the occasional 'audience' harassment routines, Mr. Hamburger even sings a couple of songs. Though many may feel that the 'joke' has gotten a bit old and that maybe Turkington should retire his zipper schtick, Drag City is sure that you'll enjoy yet another release of Neil Hamburger. Here's what some Aquarius folk say about this new CD: "Fucking horrible!" -Sadie "Byram, is that it or did you just get fed up and take the CD off?" - Jim Personally, I'd like to see Greg reissue some of that classic Bean Church material. Hey Gregg, when you gonna put out "Night of a Thousand R's" on CD?

RealAudio clip: Seven Elevens
RealAudio clip: Drag City Records

While a good portion of Neil Hamburger's 'comedy' routines involve a rather Andy Kauffman-esque antagonism of the audience through the use of some of the most offensive and least funny jokes ever uttered, Mr. Hamburger does not have the fortune of having an audience who understands him much less cares, as he is performing for a Malaysian audience which does not speak any English and quietly waits for Mr. Hamburger to get off the stage in favor of their regularly scheduled karaoke.

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

SORRY. Heh heh heh. Everyone's favorite sad sack comedian issued this single in "limited edition black IN MOURNING vinyl", and there's a bonus kleenex in case you feel like emoting.

Neil's "blue" record. Hilarious. Offensive. Really stupid. We play it a lot here.

A new album from 'funny man' Neil Hamburger. No, of course it's generally not very funny. Did you expect otherwise? That's why you love his sodden, nasally gawdawful self, right? And that's why you want/need a cd of him singing country tunes which are not as amazingly appallingly bad as we were expecting. Kinda makes this sort of disappointingly good even! And it's made even better by the fact that Mr. Hamburger is pals with some hot poop musicians who've helped him out (almost too much so!) on this full length! Winners? Yes, there actually are a few. Don't say we didn't warn you.

MPEG stream: Three Piece Chicken Dinner
MPEG stream: Please Ask That Clown To Stop Crying

I have to say that the whole Neil Hamburger 'thing' works a lot better when left to the imagination. While Mr. Hamburger in the flesh comes reasonably close to how you might picture him, it's impossible for him to be as cartoonishly pathetic, and brutally sad and rundown as I always imagined he would be. That said, this document is suitably depressing, and brutal and really funny, but funny in that trainwreck sort of way. Nicely shot, with lots of hilarious interviews of dog track patrons who could care less about Neil Hamburger. The one down side is the hipster filled audience, who of course, like you and me, find Hamburger's unbearable unfunniness pretty darn hilarious, but which kind of defeats the whole concept of there being REAL hecklers and dead silence after every joke. The jokes definitely still suck, that's the point after all, but that amazing Neil Hamburger aura of pathetic-and- depressing-bus-stop-nightclub-comic-playing-for-old-ladies-waiting-for-the-midtown-express-night after-night-drinking-himsef-into-a-stupor is sort of ruined by hooting and heckling indie rockers. Thankfully that problem can easily be corrected with the alternate audio tracks. You can choose from Stadium Applause, Mexican Guy or Japanese Girl! Really. Pretty funny actually. There are some DVD extras, the coolest being a mini-documentary about the dog track, the trainers and the various dogs.

Hamijama is a collaboration between Jake Mandell and Safety Scissors. This single for Beta Bodega (a label with a propensity for presenting their electronica within rambling pseudo-intellectual drivel) runs between Kim Rapatti / Mono Junk style techno groove minimalism and mid-'90s AFX / Autechrist melodic angularities.

We've had these for a while now, but are only getting around to listing it now. And unfortunately it's been so long we can't remember any of the details about who these guys are. Web searches have revealed very little as well, but as usual, it hardly matters once we get down to the sounds, which are awesome. A stumbling noiserock, light on the noise, a sort of loping, meandering postrock, the drums simple and spare, while all over the place electronics swoop and buzz, guitars clang and chime, a sort of slowcore crossed with some abstract electronic noise... Imagine a more post rock less machinelike Geronimo, or a prettier, WAY less chaotic Dead C, woozy and weary, and washed out, slow motion math rock dipped in glitch and skree and left to wander aimlessly. Really weird and atonal but pretty and subtly tripped out. There's definitely some Godspeed moments, and some distinctly Dead C sounds (or at least NZ noise rock sounds), but the way that they're arranged, it almost sounds like a normal everyday post rock band gradually and gloriously going haywire. Hard to explain, but this dusty little back room find is suddenly a new fave! SUPER LIMITED and now discontinued and out of print. We only have a handful, so grab 'em while you can...

MPEG stream: Punky Rice Spirit
MPEG stream: Swampy Animal People

Second record from these mysterious medieval liturgical soundscapers, who at one time were members of the awesomely avant black metal horde Emit. As we mentioned in the review of the first Emit record, that band was only tangentially 'black metal', choosing instead to take black metal elements and weave them into something more ritualistic and abstract. Well, Hammemit is the logical extension, ejecting all the black metal elements, minus some ominous black ambience, focusing more on mood and texture, creating a song suite that sounds like a collection of ancient hymns, the sounds of haunted cathedrals, the crumbling spires and broken stained glass, still imbued with the spirits and souls that had passed through before. It's not hard to imagine wandering through some ruined stone church, at dusk, the moon bringing the shadows to life, the splintered pews in small bonfire ready piles, pages from hymnals scattered like dead leaves, when suddenly strange sounds come wafting down from the choir, shards of detuned guitar, deep rumbling drones, monk like chants, the occasional raspy whisper, warm whirling off kilter chordal whirs, washed out reverb drenched drifts of buzzing steel strings and moaned ghostlike voices, soft flutters of out of tune piano tumbling over soft crystalline shimmers, dark heaving slabs of ominous buzz, shot through with growled vocals and more spidery detuned warble and thick swirls of church organ. Gorgeous and ancient and haunting and mystical. Mood music for ruin'd cathedrals, a soundtrack for midnite pagan rituals, or as the legend on the cd sleeve reads: "Mediaeval Music For Modern Sensibilites"!

MPEG stream: Storms
MPEG stream: Nature's Beautiful Ugliness
MPEG stream: How Small They Must Have Felt
MPEG stream: Dreamstate Hagioscope

Emit were never really a proper black metal band, so much so that it often seemed quite curious that they were so embraced by that scene, when there sound was something much more abstract and ambient, ritualistic and distinctly not heavy, at least in the traditional sense. This UK horde trafficked in a sort of abstract ambient doom, there were riffs, to be certain, but they were not strung together into long buzzing progressions, instead they were banged out one at a time, often left to decay and sprawl into shimmering black ripples, and just as often there were no riffs at all, instead opting for some effects drenched dubbed out free blackness. Once in a while, the sounds and atmospheres would coalesce into something definitely black metal, but even then, the blast beats and buzzing riffs were stumbly and chaotic and doused in reverb and sent lurching though heaving seas of crunch and crumble, everything moaning and creaking and squealing and seeming to gradually implode. Emit were indeed one of a kind, and it's unclear what exactly caused them to hang it up, but a few of those Emitters went on to create this entity right here, now called Hammemit, a somewhat logical extension of Emit's more abstract ritualistic side, forgoing riffs and metal and buzz almost completely, opting instead for something much more primitive and minimal, haunting and spiritual. Spires Over The Burial Womb unveils a mysterious black form of liturgical music, drawing heavily on traditional religious musics throughout the ages, wheezing church organs, chanted monklike vocals, choral voices, lots of echo and reverb as if these pieces were indeed performed in some sort of temple or church, some of the songs thick and swirling, dense and intense, others spare and spidery, with simple spidery melodies hovering in wide open expanses of shimmering reverb and deep cavernous echo. All of the sounds here are dark, haunting, creepy, mysterious, deep distant drones twist and turn like monstrous black shapes hidden in the shadows, the voices chant and invocate, offering up prayer perhaps to some other gods, the voices and the drones beneath inexorably interwoven. There is guitar, but it's often detuned, fractured, effected, smeared and blurred into another layer of creeping blackness. The most traditionally musical movements, sound a bit like Skepticism, but with all the distortion stripped away, the drums removed, slowed way down, and performed in some massive stone cathedral, every note slathered in natural reverb and dusty delay, allowed to drift ethereally until the next note emerges to follow along in it's ghostly black wake. While the rest of the tracks play out like ancient masses conducted by reanimated specters risen from the grave, primitive rituals performed in the black of night, in the dead of winter, in a church full of empty pews, with broken stained glass windows, and drifts of snow moving like a white sea across the cut stone floor, a swirling white abyss that swallows the black sounds drifting above. A truly beautiful and haunting collection of blackened rites and rituals and mysterious nokturnal sonic ceremonies.

MPEG stream: Spires Over The Burial Womb
MPEG stream: A State Of Blissful Unknowing
MPEG stream: Shamelessy I Went Around

Sound artist Joseph Hammer was a member of the legendary/infamous LAFMS (Los Angeles Free Music Society), and on I Love You, Please Love Me Too, he takes everyday sounds, and creates something far from everyday. It's a gloriously head spinning Plunderphonic style collage of loops and snippets and samples, old dusty records, snatches of radio broadcasts, tapes of old performances, all layered and mashed into a swirling sonic stew, repeated motifs melt into warped and warbly murk, pianos tinkle, vocals swoop and soar, different languages, jazzy horns, chugging metal guitars, skittery programmed drums, jangle and crunch and grind and swoon. RnB gives way to nu-metal, yacht rock gives way to new age, but chopped and sliced and diced and recontextualized so each element is just a part of the bigger, constantly mutating whole. The A side seems more jumbled, a relentless onslaught of stuttering sound, a swirling flurry of tangled melodies and ever shifting voices and instruments, flurries of shards and fragments in constant motion, while somehow, the second side seems more serene, the sounds blurred and smeared into something slightly more linear, the pitch and speed still constantly changing, a warped woozy sprawl of psychedelic, ADD plunderphonic pop. LIMITED TO 330 COPIES, each one hand numbered, and like all releases on Pan, the vinyl is 140 gram, and is housed in a thick jacket, which itself is presented in a super elaborate and psychedelic two colored PVC plastic sleeve, with eye popping tripped out geometric designs.

The Swedish cheese-metallers who've led the recent worldwide "comeback" of so-called "power metal", come back themselves with a third album, this time with big-time '80s metal producer Michael Wagener (it was recorded in the USA for goshsakes!). Nothing new really, if you liked their other albums you'll like this, and if you didn't, you won't. One thumb up (Andee), one thumb down (Allan).

[ aquarius records catalogue — H ]