[ aquarius records catalogue

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Showing results 101 through 150 of 687.

Ida continue to make lovely music floating along in the Mazzy Star/Cowboy Junkies stream. This is an album of slow and quiet music created with numerous instruments of the stringed and keyboard variety -- the list of which is very similar to that of San Diego's wonderful Black Heart Procession: cello, melodica, viola, wurlitzer, accordion. The music itself is rich and lovely but nowhere near as dark or mournful as BHP. The list of guest players includes Warn Defever (His Name Is Alive), Tara Jane O'Neil (Rodan), Bernie Worrell (Funkadelic!) to name a few.

Upon a first listen of this album, you might be taken aback, this is certainly not the slow dreamy melancholia that we've come to know and love from Ida. But hang on a sec... There's a good reason for this different approach. This is no ordinary release -- You Are My Flower is a CHILDREN'S ALBUM! And a very pretty, down to earth one at that. Two members of that soft twang New York pop group, namely Elizabeth Mitchell and Daniel Littleton, present an acoustic country-tinged collection of childhood sing-songs including versions of old classics like "This Little Light Of Mine", "Shoo-Fly", "Jingle Bells" (!). Mitchell and Littleton sing sweetly and are backed by a pair of guitars, a wood flute (played by Warren Defever), some piano and shaker. All lovingly recorded by Defever (His Name Is Alive) at his home in Livonia, MI. Just shy of 25 minutes which is perfect for the tots' short attention spans.

RealAudio clip: Lovers Lane
RealAudio clip: Pony Boy

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SORRY. Collaboration between, you guessed, the bands Ida and Retsin, with funny liner notes by Warren DeFever.

One thing's for sure, those Idaho Falls folks are a generous bunch. They offer up their self-titled debut album on vinyl and cd together in one package, and a very reasonably priced one at that! So you get to enjoy their rootsy, twangful tunes twice as much, or I suppose you could share it with a friend. A wide variety of tunes for those porchswing days or campfire nights - complete

RealAudio clip: Arroyo Seco
RealAudio clip: Sunset Down
RealAudio clip: Stoned @ Solar Culture

The cover of I Am The Fire depicts a lone figure crouched amidst a strange assemblage of equipment, several amps, a synthesizer, an old fashioned tape recorder, some sort of oscillator and a large square lamp illuminating the scene, while surrounding the figure and all the equipment is a light dusting of what appears to be leaves, quite evocative, and we'd like to think it's an actual photo of the creation of this disc, as the sounds here are definitely dimly lit, suffused with a mysterious glow, dark and intimate, haunting and abstract. A slow burning drone music, less minimal and more melodic, the opener sounds like Godspeed or Explosions In The Sky, stripped of drums, melted down and poured out into a slowly spreading pool of blackened sonic shimmer, the sound muted and softly distorted, smoldering with a strange urgency, more thick and warm than heavy, reminding us quite a bit of a less heavy Fear Falls Burning. The other tracks here definitely slip into more minimal territory, but even then, the sound is dense and organic sounding, tones and notes stretched way out and laid atop one another, alongside other sympathetic tones, unleashing clouds of rhythmic overtones and all manner of subtle colorations, drifting slow and low, glimmering dreamily, a prismatic soundfield of blacks and greys, beautifully blurred into soft focus suite of deep listening dronemusic.

MPEG stream: The Knifes Are My Eyes
MPEG stream: To Make Exact Copies Of Every Mistake Ever Made

At the risk of repeating ourselves, there's a visual component to this witchy blackened trio, that is certainly worth mentioning again, and seems to tie directly into the strange occultic vibe of the music. Imagine two willowy women, both beautiful and with long black hair, each wearing what seems to be an old white wedding dress, one at the mic, the other behind the kit, while the guitar player, quite willowy himself, sits in a chair hunched over his guitars, the trio remaining mostly motionless, but evoking a strange sort of vibe, like some ancient ritual, enacted for hundreds of years in different permutations, this one being in the form of a musical trio, the medium now a sort of blackened dirgery. Not so much metal as slightly metallic, and as we mentioned in our review of Ides Of Gemini's debut, we found they seemed to have much more in common with Warpaint or Mazzy Star. But the opening of the first track definitely throws down a black metal gauntlet, unfurling a frenzied buzzing black metal riff, underneath which, the drums pound tribally, yet instead of exploding into some furious blast, the sound shifts into a sort of funereal march, all simple stumbling drums, doomy riffage, and then the vocals, mesmerizing and ethereal, but still powerful, the harmonies haunting, the sound blossoming like some blackened liturgical incantation, the overall effect quite mesmerizing. The whole record's a series of ritualistic sonic spells, driven mostly by the vocals, but constantly underpinned by simple blackened droned out riffing and driven by the spare martial drumming. All four of the tracks from the demo are re-recorded and presented here again, including our favorite, the utterly spellbinding "Resurrectionists", which is essentially a gorgeous slab of indie pop slowcore, with a killer main riff/melody, and an insanely catchy refrain/chorus, the sort of song that you'll find yourself returning to again and again, the new version (of this and the other three demo tracks) so much heavier, and so much more lush, wreathed in warm swaths of reverb and echo, as if these sonic rituals were being performed on a crumbling altar in some old stone cathedral, the listener hunched in an alcove, hidden by shadows, letting Ides Of Gemini's mournful musical lamentations wash over them...

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MPEG stream: The Vessel & The Stake
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A special Record Store Day release from this witchy blackened dreampsych trio, featuring rock scribe J. Bennett on guitar, along with Sera Timms (of Black Math Horsemen), and Kelly Johnston, on guitar and bass respectively, two willowy women, both of whom very much look the part of the witchy temptress, performing live hey both wear old white wedding dresses, looking like they stepped right out of some old daguerrotype, and who provide the haunting harmonies, which are definitely what make IoG so magical and mysterious sounding. While their past records were laced with a bit of black buzz, the sound here is much more moody and minimal, the A side sounds a bit more like nineties slowcore filtered through a more modern shoegaze aesthetic, but even here, Bennett introduces some blackness, in the form of his slo-mo black metal riffing, which is transformed into something more hazy and washed out, a doomy drifty churn, the song slipping into some full on dirginess, a heaving, heavy, reverbed creep, the whole thing a little bit noisy, a little bit gothy, the vocals keeping the sound grounded, transforming what might otherwise be some minimal doominess, into something more ethereal and hauntingly trancendent, the plodding minimal drumming, adding a primal pulse to the blurry buzzy dreaminess. The B side gets even more dreamy, ditching all the buzz and plod, in favor of something more atmospheric, lilting minor key piano, wreathed in a gauzy sonic haze, seems to blur and drift, the vocals doused in echo and reverb float spectrally above, the whole thing a dreamlike sprawl of gothic slowcore ethereal dreampop soft-psych bliss, the vocals reminding us of Cheslea Wolfe or Zola Jesus, but set amidst a landscape much more cinematic and abstract. So gorgeous. This was in fact a Record Store Day release, and thus was super limited, we did get a bunch, but once we sell out, these are probably gone for good. The record comes in different colored sleeves, and multiple colors of vinyl, includes a nice printed insert with lyrics.

Serenades from the cemetery! Neurot bring us another melancholic, majestic missive from this LA based boy-girl-girl trio, who kind of sound like a metal Mazzy Star (but not metal enough for the internet's Encyclopaedia Metallum site it would seem, can never figure that out). Featuring Decibel columnist J. Bennett on guitar, Kelley Johnson-Gibson on drums, and Sera Timms on vocals & bass, this witchy groop toured the US last year opening for Ghost (!) and we wonder how that went, the Ides Of Gemini possibly fitting in with the vibe of Ghost, being both quite melodic and occultic, grandiose and gothic, but much more stripped down, slo-mo, and serious sounding... On Old World New Wave, we get nine new tracks of their funerary shoegaze, all doomy guitars, doomy drums, and doomy - but beautiful - female vocals, soaring over the plodding gloom below, like a depressed angel singing sweetly, sadly, intoning cryptic lyrics of love and sorrow. It draws you in, each song building up the moody atmosphere, this album definitely one meant to be played straight through, for totality of effect, a hypnotic one which should leave you with fists clenched, and weeping. Another sterling outing from this aQ fave outfit!

MPEG stream: Black Door
MPEG stream: Seer Of Circassia
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We were lucky enough to get a sneak peak at these new Neurot Recordings signees at the Bay Area premiere for the new Blood, Sweat + Vinyl documentary, all about independent record labels, focused on three of our favorites, Neurot, Hyrda Head and Constellation. To commemorate / celebrate, the screening was turned into a show, featuring one band representing each label, Evangelista for Constellation, Oxbow for Hydra Head and this trio Ides Of Gemini for Neurot. Since they didn't have a record out yet, we weren't sure what to expect, other than that metal scribe J Bennett played guitar, and when they took the stage, the shaved headed bushy bearded Bennet sat in a chair, hunched over his guitar, accompanied by two willowy women, both with long dark hair, both wearing what appeared to be white wedding gowns. The effect was striking, even more so when the fog machine came on and wreathed the band in smoke, and the sound was appropriately haunting and witchy, not so much metal as gloomy and ethereal, the drums simple and propulsive, the guitars washed out and warm, and the vocals, lush and layered, hazy and hypnotic, with lush swirling harmonies. The resulting sound reminded us of slowcore indie gloom outfit Warpaint, albeit a bit heavier, the sound being a bit more ritualistic, and the guitar occasionally (and quite suddenly) launching into full on black metal buzz, but instead of the rest of the music following suit, the brief buzzing blast soon dissipated leaving the song to return to its woozy mesmer. This is the kind of dark heaviness (or heavy darkness), that evokes Mazzy Star as much as The Devil's Blood or Blood Ceremony, if not moreso, the tracks here don't blast or pound or thrash, these or haunting funereal ruminations, witchy and otherworldly, hazy fuzz drenched dirges, a gauzy sort of ethereal doom, that is more mesmerizing than it is heavy, a blackened siren song that is utterly hypnotic, especially the last track, the main melody/hook stayed stuck in out head long after that show, and hearing these tracks again, that one especially, has us dying for a proper full length. The cd is LIMITED TO 333 COPIES, packged in gorgeous metallic blue/silver sleeves, multiple printed panels, super swank, the tape is LIMITED TO 100 COPIES, each one hand numbered, the J-cards on the same sort of metallic paper, and includes a sticker!

MPEG stream: Martyrivm Of The Hippolyt
MPEG stream: Slain In Spirit

A fantastic collection of rarities from this Chicago pop combo formed in the years of the British Invasion... and it definitely shows. Full of wonderful vocal harmonies and jangling guitars this is very much in the vein of the Hollies or the Kinks. All 18 tracks included here were recorded between 1965 and 1968.

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SORRY. Dave of Polvo, Chuck of Spatula, and Grant of Jimi Hendricks In-Experience play with eastern modal structures and melodies on all kinds of acoustic instruments like oud, saz, and dulcimer. Quite nice stuff in the faux-ethnomusicological genre (see also Can, Sun City Girls, Hochenkeit, Macha, etc.)

Italian guitarist and electronic experimentalist Ielasi has become a bit of a favorite here at AQ over the past few years, what with his several discs for the Hapna label, and his Bellows collaboration with Nicola Ratti on Kning Disc last year, etc., all being extremely pleasurable soundscapes woven with fractured, processed guitar, silence, and (sometimes) beats. Now he's got a new solo disc, this time on the 12k label, where he fits right in with their usual "lowercase" aesthetic. It's taken us a while to get enough of this new one to list, but of course it's been worth the wait, being another finely detailed display of abstract dronological beauty, warmly wrought from both acoustic instruments like guitar and piano, along with synths, Hammond organ, and shortwave radio static... Track one sets the scene: wavering electronic drones melted over rustling, scurrying acoustic clatter of undefinable origin, the whole thing dense yet delicate, and slowly pulsing with organic/electric buzzings... as the track progresses, somewhere buried in the background the suggestion is formed of a sleepy jazz combo (we think we can hear notes being plucked on the upright bass and the drummer brushing his snare). Moving at a similarly somnolent pace, the next cut, and the others that follow, add (or subtract) other sonic elements -- heavier distortion or purer tones, horn-like melodic driftings and white noise blanketings -- while always maintaining that murky, moody, mesmeric blissfulness for which we adore Ielasi so.

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Personally, this is our first concentrated encounter with this Italian guitarist and electronic experimentalist, though a friend of ours speaks highly of his prior output. And it's on the Hapna label, generally a pretty good bet for goodness (they last brought us discs by Sinistri, Pita, and Stephan Mathieu among others). Though, in some rare instances Hapna stuff goes too far into the skronking, scrabbling, indulgent improv thing for our tastes. However, Ielasi's Gesine turns out to indeed be quite excellent and enjoyable. It's abstract and seemingly improv-involved, yes, but tastefully, gorgeously so, all sounds well-placed and possessed of strange beauty. The twang of strings, amidst droney static, mellow and mesmeric. It's like Hans Reichel gone onkyo, or John Fahey-on-Mego, to make two weird and probably unhelpful comparisons. Definitely something for fans of David Grubbs, Taku Sugimoto, and Dean Roberts, we'd venture. In fact, it turns out we have heard Ielasi before, as he played prepared guitar on Roberts' wonderful Be Mine Tonight album released on Kranky a few years back. Unlike some guitarists, Ielasi doesn't feel obligated to play his instrument very much -- some tracks are purely electronic ambience, no notes being played. He says a lot with a little, over these six tracks/31 minutes 13 seconds. I first listened to this on a rainy day and was absolutely entranced. So very good, we'll definitely have to start paying closer attention to this guy and his electro-acoustic artistry.

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This self-titled album from Italy's Giuseppe Ielasi is his second for the Hapna label. His first, Gesine, was a favorite 'round here and this one is great too! Compared to Gesine, this is more drone and beat oriented, but in the most murky and abstract way. Ielasi is an "experimental guitarist" but beyond that we don't know much about the processes that went into the construction of the tracks on this cd -- other than that he thanks sonic compatriot Renato Renaldi for "his invaluable help with tape manipulations". The five untitled, all-instrumental tracks here dreamily blend guitar (presumably), electronics, percussion and who knows what else into moody soundscapes. Are those cowbells clinking distantly amid the hypnotic hum and crackle? It's foggy and swampy and really nice. Like a lot of our favorite Hapna releases, this has a certain twilit grace. Textural and abstract and simply quite pleasant -- recommended.

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We're pretty happy with the Swedish label Kning Disk lately. Their releases look lovely, and more importantly, always engage our ears. Here's a new one on Kning from the duo of Giuseppe Ielasi and Nicola Ratti. Italian experimental guitarist Ielasi is already a pleasant fixture in the AQ consciousness, entrancing us with the rainy-day moodiness of his quietly blissful releases on the Hapna label (see elsewhere on our site for reviews of those). Nicola Ratti we're not familiar with, but clearly he gets on well with Ielasi's usual sonic approach. Bellows consists of seven untitled tracks of abstract beauty, a detailed dronescape created with guitar, percussion, turntable, and electronics. Thus... Crackle and glitch. Chime and shimmer. Gentle and mysterious. Offering seeming glimpses of song and melody amidst all the insectoid buzz, a dreamy reverie of looping loveliness and static-y texture. Limited to just 450 copies, by the way...and of course we have far fewer than that on hand.

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A review from "electronicmusicreviews.com" offered an interesting piece of personal history regarding Deno Vichas (aka If Then Else). He had apparently received a 6 month jail sentence for marijuana possession before recording this album. What is so strange

RealAudio clip: Missing My Bong
RealAudio clip: Waiting

If Thousands are a duo from Duluth, Minnesota who abandoned their previous areas of musical and instrumental experience (voice and bass, respectively) in order to take a more "naive" approach to music making. The resulting instrumentation (moog, theremin, samplers, digital & analog loops, circuit benders, children's keyboards, shortwave, electric razor, "miscellaneous noise," as well as the more pedestrian guitar, drums, and vocals) is employed to create dreamy, cinematic, primarily instrumental (hushed vocals make an appearance or two) washes of sound not unlike Windy & Carl or Landing, evocative of the wide open landscapes around that famous national park for which the album is named. Appropriately, they have worked closely with experimental documentary filmmaker Travis Wilkerson, contributing the score to "An Injury To One," about the lynching of a Wobbly organizer in Butte, Montana. Also appropriate to the spare, lovely sound is Yellowstone's release on Chairkickers Music, the label run by Low's Alan Sparhawk, who also recorded the record in a church in Duluth. Like Low, If Thousands' icy sound incorporates roundabout Joy Division influences, with tribute paid via a cover (Isolation). Really nice stuff.

RealAudio clip: Radio Is Fine
RealAudio clip: Age Of Violence

The original recording of "Clara Nostra" (initially called "Clarinots") was additive piece for a singular clarinet which was bounced back and fourth between multi-tracked recording units resulting in the sound of 106,476 clarinets being played / recorded at the same time(!?!). For "Clara Nostra," If, Bwana remixed the maximalist sound down to half speed, causing a deep resonant rumble. A solid piece of dronology from an outfit that we think usually sucks. Anyway, that's a lot of clarinets for sixteen bucks!

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SORRY. Blip. Bleep. Boom. Pole. Dub. Autechre. Skitter. Electro. If. Then. What else? ...recommended Bay Area electronica, originally featured on the acclaimed Emanated compilation.

We were recently visiting another store here in town, and were totally struck by whatever it was they were listening to. It was exactly the sort of thing we love here at aQ, it was creepy and dark and droney, sort of familiar, but totally strange and alien at the same time. Huge moaning horns, lots of incredibly low brass, emitting cacophonous groans, strange monk like chanting, it sounded a little like something we could have heard, maybe Hermann Nitsch, or Arvo Part, it was sort of choral, but also tribal, and those horns, it was like the sound they made was a physical entity, a brass wave filling the room, eventually we had to swallow our pride and ask just what the heck they were listening to. The answer was of course King Kong Vs. Godzilla. WTF?! KING KONG VS. GODZILLA? Now we love us our King Kong, and our cheesey, men-in-rubber-suits monster movies, but we certainly didn't remember the music being so... weird, and heavy, and haunting, and beautiful. Now that we've been listening to this soundtrack for a week or two, it's nearly impossible to imagine how this could be the music for a battle between those two classic movie monsters. And if we do, we can't help but imagine the typical clumsy rubber suited battles transformed into impossibly arty ballets, drenched in blacks and greys, gauzy and arty, like some hellish painting brought to life. King Kong Vs. Godzilla, originally released in 1962, was the most maligned and misunderstood, as well as somehow the most successful of all the Godzilla movies. Unlike the films before it. KK Vs. G was a bit more light hearted (you would never know from the score!), the monster suits less scary, the whole film a subtle satire of Japanese commercialism. For it's American release it was tinkered with, chopped, edited and poorly dubbed. The result while obviously a far cry from the original's intent, resulted in a film that still appealed to the American market's love for cheesy monster movies and was thus a sucess here too. Sadly though, when the film was re-edited for US release, the score was mostly replaced with music from The Creature From The Black Lagoon! Apparently that's not totally unheard of, since once a film is dramatically re-edited, the original music just doesn't sync up, but once you hear Ifukube's score it's impossible to imagine anyone wanting to replace it. Since this is a soundtrack, there are definitely tracks that exist to support particular onscreen visuals, be it a melancholy bit of old timey jazz, some festive marching band music, a bit of playful calypso pop, some tribal drum / chant interludes, but for the most part, Ifukube's gives us a series of creepy, haunting orchestra driven chunks of dramatic moodiness, forboding and sinister, evoking not so much images of giant apes and lizards, but instead of human misery and terror, the frailty of human existence in the face of monsters and demons. Bleak and oppressive, funereal and somber, but with glimmers of hopefulness, and stretches of what sounds like resilliance in the face of doom, calls to arms, an amazingly emotional score for a monster movie, all conveyed via the aformentioned moaning horns swooping ominously above martial drumming and booming tympani's, balanced by bits of soaring strings and chanting vocals. We want to see this movie now so bad, but at the same time it almost seems like these sounds would be tainted, even though they were composed to accompany those specific images, having heard them on their own, the music has taken on it's own life, its own meaning, and exists fully realized simply as music, even (especially?) removed from it's visual counterpart. We imagine that this was most likely re-released to coincide with the recent Peter Jackson King Kong remake, which is also probably why you won't find ANY images of King Kong anywhere in the booklet or on the sleeve. But don't let that keep you from discovering this amazing recording. Extensive liner notes including the fascinating and convoluted history of the film as well as notes on each track. Sidenote: Recognize the recurring theme? Check the sound sample for "Godzilla's Resurrection." We did the second we heard it, those low horns, that stacatto 'dun dun dundun'. It's the loop from Pharoahe Monch's 1999 hit "Simon Says" (which you might also remember as the song Sam Rockwell dances to in the first Charlie's Angels as he gets ready to torture Drew Barrymore)!

MPEG stream: Main Title
MPEG stream: The Sparkling Iceberg / Pashin Commercial
MPEG stream: The Seahawk's S.O.S.
MPEG stream: Godzilla's Resurrection
MPEG stream: The Devil Of The South Seas / Drums Of Battle / Giant Octopus Vs. King Kong

Next best thing to seeing the Stooges back in the day (let's see your hands...anyone...no one?) I guess would be to see 'em now, at one of their rare, raved-about reunion shows like this one in Detroit last year, headlining over Sonic Youth and the Von Bondies. And the next best thing to being at the show, is seeing it on your TV screen. Next best is next best is next best but still, this is Iggy and the Stooges we're talking about! Iggy's still got it, a wiggling wriggling rock star to the end, really more and more of a fascinating grotesque to watch the older he gets, while the Ashton brothers on guitar and drums prove that you don't have to have Iggy's physique to kick ass, even if you're old dudes. And Mike Watt is obviously having the time of his life, subbing for deceased bassist Dave Alexander. Funhouse saxophonist Steve Mackay shows up too. It's not gonna change your life, but it's a good show, you can even forgive them the one new song they play (otherwise it's only songs from the first two albums, nothing from Raw Power, which makes us wonder why this says Iggy & The Stooges on it not just The Stooges?). No fancy stage production or lights or anything, just a band playing songs they wrote 30 years ago and tearing it up. DVD extras include an entire in-store performance, just Iggy and the Ashtons, which demonstrates that even at a low-key show where he's sitting on a chair half the time, Iggy still has to take off his shirt before it's over. And there's Mike Watt's audio diary, and a bunch of Stooges stills from the pages of Creem magazine.

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

SORRY.

It's been a while since we've heard from Ignatz, aka alien-Appalachian troubadour Bram Devens of Belgium, who over the course of a handful of records between 2005 and 2008, created what was essentially an alternate universe of sound, one where blues and bluegrass and Appalachia somehow got all garbled, the notes warped and woozy, murky drones wreathing everything in creepy sonic patina, but something strange happened near the end of that stretch, the sound of Ignatz gradually got less and less alien, less noisy and murky, fewer effects, everything stripped away until the sound of Ignatz was essentially the sound of a man and his guitar, which is precisely what Ignatz is all these years later. Which is not to say that the sound of Ignatz isn't still strange, and idiosyncratic, and outsidery, it most definitely is, it's just that now, and even a little bit then, the strangeness comes not from adding noise and weird effects, it comes from these truly unique sounds, Devens crafting weird and wonderful sounds with just his voice, a guitar, and whatever piece of equipment he chooses to record on, which is definitely a part of Ignatz's sound, as the varying levels of production, the hiss, the echo, the muted melodies or the brittle high end, the sound is as much a part of the sound as the songs, if that makes sense. We proclaimed in our review of III, from 2008, that it was in fact Ignatz's blues record, thinking at the time maybe it was an anomaly, but in fact, it marked what we can only imagine was a sonic shift. We missed a handful of releases between now and then, cd-r's and limited lps, but it seems to these ears, that Can I Go Home Now? is not that far removed from III, Devens vocalizing in a Dylany drawl, unfurling gorgeous bits of finger picked Appalachian, softly strummed psychedelic folk, moody and minimal, lo-fi for sure, but in a way that makes the music more intimate, campfire style, as if this was all recorded with a mic and a boombox, beneath the stars, in the middle of nowhere. All of that said, there is plenty of weirdness still going in, whether it's a sublte backdrop of swirling looped melody, or what sounds like a sped up tape recorder, looped and layered beneath some skeletal blues, or hazy, reverby music box melodies, sounding like a toy piano, or some woozy murky warble, that makes it sound like the tape is melting. All of these subtle little effects just add to the spare haunting songcraft, making these sound again, a little bit alien, just not so overtly abstract. Equal parts Daniel Johnston, Jandek, Bob Dylan, Nick Drake, John Fahey via some mysterious Sublime Frequencies compilation, songs gathered from the front porches of old rickety houses in the sticks, in some alternate universe, dark, droney, dreamy, bluesy folkiness that's hauntingly hypnotic and subtly psychedelic. We didn't realize just how much we missed Ignatz...

MPEG stream: I Need A Good Night's Sleep
MPEG stream: Weep Weep Weep
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MPEG stream: Strange Way Ahead

A brief two song tape from AQ faves Ignatz, a gorgeous collection of dreamy sonics, created to celebrate the birth of his first child. The A side is classic Ignatz, at once gorgeous and shimmery, but aggressive and distorted, the focal point being the mysterious and�haunting wordless vocals, raw and overdriven, that eventually become more and more blurry and distorted until they simply become another layer in the textural smear of sound, tangled up�with the sing song guitar melodies, as the whole track�grows more and more intense and blown out until it's like a more metal Fennesz. The track finishes off with a surprising little coda,�a playful little jaunty fragment, a playful melody, over a super distorted Konono-like percussive backdrop. The flipside, is a gorgeous laid back, soft focus blissed out ballad, the guitars drifting and whispery, the vocals an about to crack falsetto croon, all bathed in tape hiss and amp buzz, super spacious and intimate and so so pretty.� Hand silkscreened sleeves and of course crazy limited...

When we last heard from this mysterious ensemble, we likened their sound to some sort of Alien Folkways collection. Vibrant images of Alan Lomax in a space suit going from planet to planet, recording the natives, as they perform strange ritualistic folk music, the likes of which we had never heard on Earth before. This latest missive from the strangely monickered Ignatz, plays out in a similarly alien fashion, although this time it sounds like we've travelled toward the center of the Earth, rooting out all of the subterranean dwellers, from the bottom of the sea to bottomless pits, to maze like warrens of underground caverns, bat people, strange lizard like folk, a new breed of eyeless humanoid, with strange suction cup stumps instead of limbs. All living happily beneath the surface, building elaborate civilizations, and most importantly creating their own folk music. Bits and pieces slightly resemble some of the more terrestrial sounds we're accustomed to. Maybe some of the underground dwellers heard snippets of music drifting down through cracks or storm drains, but even those sounds were twisted and reshaped into new sounds. This Subterranean Folkways collection was gathered from over 400 trips below the surface, from all over the world, below China, beneath Egypt, underneath the Canadian Tundra, within several famous peaks, and in several legendary volcanos. Each culture and "people" developed on their own, separated from the rest of humanity and the rest of the sub-dwellers, their evolutionary paths taking many unexpected twists and turns, which are of course reflected in the music. A haunting disembodied angular blues folk, cobbled together from sharp jagged riffs that float in a dark cloud of spacious reverb while from way below huge pulses of depth charge bass float to the surface, threatening to swallow everything whole. Dense clouds of chirping crickets and tangled birdsong are woven into thick sonic brambles, a swirling confusional knot of sound, a bit like Sunroof! occurring in nature, while underneath a strange melodic tapping drifts and a moaned vocal floats ominously. Pulsing bagpipe like guitars intertwine with haunting chant like vocals, lilting electric guitar melodies zig and zag beneath warbly swells of fuzzy organ. A distant disembodied blues, pulled apart and tossed into a huge blaack pool. left to drift and spin and eventually sink below the surface. A stumbling Jandekian dirge, atonal vocals, over shifting swirls of detuned guitar and glistening high end shimmer. Mysterious and so wonderful. We anxiously await the next Folkways collection, gathered on various excursions into the human body, to record the indigenous musics of the many creatures and organisms that call our human forms home!

MPEG stream: Be Careful
MPEG stream: Even In The Old Days
MPEG stream: Never Dodge Anything

Ignatz II (or III if you count the recently reviewed I Will Soothe My Eye To Feast It With A Sight Of Beauty cd-r) heralds the return of our favorite alien Appalachian troubadour and another transmission of fuzzed out, obfuscated, FX laden, bedroom free folk outer space buzz and shimmer. Not too much has changed since I (a past AQ Record of the Week), but if anything, the sound of Ignatz has become even darker and more expansive, and somehow, impossibly more beautiful and mysterious. Another haunting and dreamily disorienting stopover in a musical journey to points unknown. While some of what you see or hear on II might sound familiar, it doesn't take too long before you realize that the sounds here are... well, different, off kilter, damaged, prettiness is present but summarily obfuscated. Bits of folks and blues surface here and there, but are slowly and methodically transformed into a whole new shapes and sounds. Every melody, at first warm and inviting, begins to twist and change, becoming some bastardized blues, sometimes broken down into jagged shards and stumbling cadences, other times splattered into glimmering glistening sonic sparkles. The root of Ignatz's sound is still a wonderfully gnarled Appalachia, guitars and vocals mostly, drenched in filthy spacey FX most of the time, but even when delivered sans effects, they manage to sound alien and otherworldly. Ghostly abstract dirges, lengthy meanders through epic and ominous landscapes of blown out slow burn riffs and bits of delicate fingerpicking. Hovering above are wistful, abstract vocals, distorted and indistinct, wrapped around mournful melodies, the whole thing stumbling and slightly off kilter. Occasionally the guitars build into huge thick torrents of fuzzy riffing, dense and chaotic, before the riffs crumble and threaten to fall apart completely, until the vocals and guitars tangle up and become more and more indistinct, a slow shifting cloud of blues shimmer and folk swirl. It almost sounds as if someone pulled apart some old blues 78's, piece by piece, note by note, and then, hundreds of years later, reassembled them without any instructions, utilizing some as yet undiscovered alien technology, only to discover that THIS is what music sounded like in 2007. What a strange world it must have been.... This warm and warbly, futuristic ancient folk is a masterfully mangled Delta blues transmitted from planet to planet, and with each million light year stretch, the sound becomes more tangled and less obviously blueslike. Alien musical transmissions intercepted using an old victrola and played back by some crazy old man, sitting on his porch, armed with just an acoustic guitar, a pile of busted old wax cylinders, and a huge bank of broken and rusty effects pedals... So goddamn great!

MPEG stream: He Deals With Love & Her Eyes Glaze
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In the past we've alternately described Ignatz as space folk drone or alien Appalachia, owing much to Ignatz's blend of buzzing lo-fi murk, and Folkways style folk guitar. A confusional mix that works magically, Fahey meets Uton, or James Blackshaw recording with Starving Weirdos, a stumbling buzz infused sprawl as spacious as it is clattery and chaotic. Beneath the drone and ambience there was always a blues element to Ignatz, the guitar playing, distinctly blues in its alien Appalachia, but usually, those blues were sublimated by all the other various noises happening, the only trace being the bits of pick and strum, that weren't blues so much as bluegrass, and even then it was sort of twisted and abstracted. Well, III is Ignatz's blues record. And while this may be far out, and idiosyncratic and lo-fi and a bit freaky, this is most definitely BLUES. Big time. Right from the beginning, it's mostly just guitar and voice, the guitar effected and processed, the sound a little warped, the leads and melodies cracked and off kilter, but locked into a distinctly blues progression. The vocals raw and rich, a deep distorted croon, wrapped languorously over the creeping riffs and warbly melodies. It may be blues, but it's some seriously outsider blues for sure. And the whole first half of the record continues on in this fashion, unfurling haunting alien blues, "Gazing At The Fire" probably being our favorite, as the guitar gets all twisted up, stuttering and skipping, making all sorts of staccato rhythms within the various chord progressions, wreathed in space-y FX, and turning the song into something even more avant garde. The second half of the record finds Ignatz retuning to a more familiar sound, that mysterious murky drone folk, buzzing guitars, sad plaintive vocals buried in the mix, notes and chords detuned, everything warped and warbly, strange bagpipe like melodies stretched out over wide open expanses of reverb spring buzz and tape hiss, angular melodies and high end trills. The final track sounds like Ignatz jamming with Jandek, the guitar super warm and washed out, the vocals pained and anguished, the whole track thick with murky ambience, and a muted mumbled percussion, haunting and creepy and beautiful. At first we were thrown by the new bluesier Ignatz, but it's still such a unique sound. We can only imagine, while listening to this, that III was in fact made in the '30s or '40s, recorded by some mysterious old man in a cave somewhere in the South, and these tapes were literally dug up, discovered in the collapsed cellar of some old shack, wrapped in a bloodied flannel shirt, with a note written in rust colored ink, nothing but song titles and strange cryptic symbols. And even if that's not how it happened, it sure sounds like it did...

MPEG stream: The Water
MPEG stream: Two Nights And A Day
MPEG stream: Gazing At The Fire

We've long been fans of this outsider alien Appalachia folk troubadour, we've made at least one of his records an aQ Record Of The Week, and raved about most of the others, so when we recently were offered some new releases from the Kraak label, one of the titles we were most excited about was this vinyl collection, which gathers up a handful of tracks from various out of print cassettes, most of which were so limited we were never able to get them. And like the records proper, the sounds here while rooted in a sort of psychedelic folk, definitely veer in all sorts of directions, sonically quite disparate at times, but somehow strangely cohesive. The random samplings here seem to have been assembled in a way that at least simulates a record proper, but even then, the sounds are still tripped out and fantastically erratic. Angular electric guitars wrap themselves around a reverbed croon, moody funereal dirges laced with muted percussion give way to dark buzzing drones, which in turn give way to a chiming dronefolk shimmer, weirdly twisted and detuned, wreathed in buzz. Elsewhere lush forest folk transforms into a swampy sort of abstract blues, with crooned vox and a woozy warped production. Jangle meets strum, falsetto vox drift over tinkling vibes-like melodies, shuffling jazzy rhythms blossom into something more rocking and psychedelic. A brief bit of moaning buzzy dronemusic, a la Angus Maclise or Tony Conrad introduces a barrage of wild squiggly melodies draped over a woozy strum, wrapped in swirls of feedback and blurred into a raga like trip out and finally, the record finishes off with an ultra minimal, barely there Jandekian creep, some serious outsider folk, with haunting falsetto vocals drifting over hushed tendrils of melodies and lots of mysterious near silence. Cool stuff, essential for fans, maybe not the best place to start for newbies, but if you have any/all of the other records and dig them as much as we do, this stuff too will hit the spot.

A super limited tape from these mysterious space folk drone devils. Past Ignatz recordings we had likened to some sort of Alien Smithsonian Folkways, a curious blend of disembodied Appalachian twang and murky lo-fi ambient dronemusic, and if anything this cassette missive from whatever sonic planet these freeks call home, only moves their muted twang further into the realms of some alien music. At its core, the sound is a strummed abstract folk, the vocals a buried blurry croon, the guitars, a rough twang and simple strum, that spends most of it's time struggling beneath a dense fog of crumbling distortion, thick drifts of tape hiss, and what sounds like malfunctioning effects pedals. But what could be a mess, instead ends up sounding magical, a noisy swirl of blunted feedback, detuned melodies, processed vocals, all recorded onto a tenth generation cassette, all of the old music bleeding up through Ignatz's droney drift, hovering and drifting, floating and fluttering, sometimes building to Dead C like noise rock squalls, but always with some lilting melody or sweetly hushed croon right below the surface. The perfect mix of weirdo folk and chaotic drone drenched floor-core. Fans of folks like the Skaters, The Yellow Swans, as well as fringe folk weirdness will definitely dig. And if you've yet to delve into the other Ignatz releases, this will definitely go a long way to convincing you that you MUST. Gorgeously handmade and outrageously limited. The tape has colored silkscreened labels pasted to both sides of the tape itself. Housed in one of those oversized plastic cassette cases, like language courses or self help tapes come in. A hand screened full color cover insert on the outside, inside two photocopied inserts and a unique miniature abstract painting. So cool.

We really wanted to think of some clever intro to this review referencing Ignatz the brick throwing mouse and Krazy Kat, but this record is hardly whimsical or cartoonish, instead it's a dark and mysterious exploration of the guitar, a disembodied ghostlike folk, simple melodic figures are fragmented and twisted and recontextualized. Ignatz is the ultimate modern outsider folk record. Blown out crumbling fuzzy distorted pulses of barely recognizable guitar, haunting fragments of dessicated melodies, burts of manic noodling that are quickly blown apart into their constituent sounds and re-absorbed into the ether, strange baroque sounding steel string guitars float below the murky throbbing surface. It's like some strange Alan Lomax style back porch hillbilly recording, an alien Smithsonian Folkways. Imagine Lomax wandering a dusty road on some other planet and discovering Ignatz sitting on the front stoop with a guitar plugged into some strange looking homemade contraption and recording this record right there on that alien porch. Simple blues numbers are twisted and swathed in layers of effects, the vocals pitched up or down into chirps and rumbles, the whole thing bathed in a reflective coat of glistening reverb and warm warbly distortion, stark, simple stretches of minor key guitar are disrupted by bursts of disembodied guitar grrzzzt, hovering above a framework of delicate barely there chimes. Huge slow shifting expanses of warm guitar shimmer, and crumbling slabs of distorted sound (not at all unlike Sunroof! or Birchville Cat Motel), strange footstomping campfire hoedowns buckle beneath the layers of sound and fury piled atop them, mysteriously broadcast from beyond through a tin can and twine. It's almost as if this were some long lost future edition of Harry Smith's Anthology of Alien Folk Music, with Ignatz simultaneously channelling Roscoe Holcomb and Fennesz. Alien Ambient Appalachia maybe. Future Folk? New Weird Belgium? Whatever this is, it's dark and dense and thick and warm and weird and lovely and one of the weirdest most wonderful things we've heard.

MPEG stream: Rebound From The Cliff
MPEG stream: Echo All Acoustically Correct

"Anachronistic Belgrade prog/psych record from 1979. Heavily influenced by Pink Floyd, Can Hawkwind and Herman Hesse."

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

SORRY. The debut album from the French duo Ihan is built on the coexistance of conceptual leanings of the French electroacoustic schools and the pulse oriented architechtures of minimal techno. Ihan forms slow building collages out of rather dry sounding digital glitch abstraction unveiling tenuous patterns of high-end rhythmic fluidity. A perfect fit into the current Mille Plateaux line-up.

Latest lashings from erstwhile Emperor imperator Ihsahn. Being the guitarist/vocalist/main songwriter for one of the most important and innovative Norwegian black metal acts ever, anyone with any interest in that scene will be interested to hear what Ihsahn is up to on his own, with The Adversary being his very first solo album. And as such, remember, it's not an Emperor album... and that's fine, really. In fact, although most frontmen gone solo *don't* do this, the idea behind a solo album should be, well, to do something different than what one does in their main band. But then again, it's more like an Emperor album than a lot of things! However, it's a lot closer to being a Peccatum album (Ihsahn's other prior project with his wife and brother in law). And that's maybe not such a good thing. Tends towards the overwrought. And that's what you've got here, Ihsahn indulging in some overly dramatic, keyboard-theatrical black metal melded with, well, all sorts of things. Maybe a few too many things. It's a trifle too diverse in scope. And while we can hang with the trad heavy metal elements (including, up to a point, Ihsahn's use of his King Diamondesqe falsetto) and the extremities of blackened, mathy prog mania, it's what sounds like cheesy, adult contemporary melodiousness crammed into much of these songs that makes us wince. Enough with the clean vocals, Ihsahn! Still, his undeniably impressive musicianship (he plays everything on here but the drums) and progressive ambitions do result in an album that definitely holds rewards for those into the likes of Opeth, Borknagar, and Hammers Of Misfortune -- even if what Emperor once accomplished without trying, it sometimes sounds like he's trying too hard to do.

MPEG stream: Invocation
MPEG stream: Called By Fire

Latest in this ongoing collaboration between two aQ faves, Neil Campbell from Astral Social Club, and French loopscaper High Wolf. Somehow this is the first of these collabs we've heard but it's pretty much just as good as we might have expected, fusing the looped psychedelic mesmer of High Wolf with ASC's latent dancefloor proclivities, as well as their blissed out astral ur-drones. It's a pretty potent combo for sure. Super tripped out and abstractly groovy, a pulsing heavily layered landscape of dizzying loops and shimmering drones, a sea of colliding sounds, that rather than sounding purely chaotic, ends up sounding dizzying and psychedelic, reminding us at times of Campbell Kneale's Our Love Will Destroy The World. So many layers and rhythms and melodies, constantly careening and transforming and fusing to each other, wrapped in squiggles of feedback and draped in stuttery effects, the multiple competing rhythms created by weirdly clipped loops, actual programmed beats and various sounds aligning into strange formations, often creating random rhythms, that disappear as quickly as they materialized. Spaced out grooves give way to murky drifts which in turn give way to chaotic swirls and back again. The B side (both sides are single tracks) is more krautrocky, but a way abstract variant, pastoral, gauzy and hazy and softly noisy, all driven by an insistent yet barely there beat, submerged in the swirling shimmer, only to slowly build to a super distorted final blowout. Super cool.

The conceptually leaning WrK label out of Japan presents a solo piece from both Hiroyuki Iida and Atsushi Tominaga as well as a collaborative piece. Iida's solo piece "BPM 60" ampilfies two quartz watches using the electro magnetic inferference caused by two loop antennas, producing a noxious hypnosis of clattered rhythms. Tominaga's "050" piece is an ominous recording of bass rumbles which occurred when he recorded the sound of boiling water using speakers as the microphone. "Grainness" - the collaboration between the two - is a performative piece for a vibrating plate glass and a steel pipe. Fluxus to say the least.

As hard as it is to believe that there can still be a steady stream of amazing reissues of '70s psychedelia from all around the world (but there is!), we're equally amazed that the purveyors of '80s grim synth punk have also been re-emerging with increasing regularity and surprising quality. While the German collector's label Vinyl On Demand have been at the forefront of the '80s resurgence of cold, cold, cold post-punk (mostly of the Germanic variety), Acute has also uncovered some gems, offering us the Metal Urbain reissues as well as a handful of pre-symphonic Glenn Branca projects. Now Acute presents Ike Yard. Hailing from New York back in the early '80s, they were one of the few American bands to sign to Factory Records (the most notable other band being ESG). This collection of tracks from 1980 - 1982 culls all of the material from Ike Yard's one LP on Factory and an EP for Le Disque Du Crespuscule plus the requisite unreleased material. Initially, Ike Yard really does sound like Factory should be their home, easily paralleling the death disco prowess of Public Image Limited or Section 25. Their dour monochrome post-punk enjoys a spectral production quality which haunted all of the Martin Hannett produced Factory recordings. But gradually the Factory overtones disappear in lieu of an claustrophobic electronic sound which reminds us a lot like early Cabaret Voltaire, or rather what we wished CV would sound like given that CV hasn't really weathered all that well up very. Ike Yard though is another matter, as they seemed to really fight over whether to groove on a primal, sexual funk or to alienate their audience with their cold, electro-primitive detachment. Between the metallic synth arppegiations, drum machines struggling to work through the complex patterns, and the angular swatches of screeching guitar, there is Kenny Compton's chilling, zombified vocal delivery that really pushes Ike Yard deeper into the realms of urban malaise. A very cool reissue.

MPEG stream: Cherish
MPEG stream: NCR
MPEG stream: Kino

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

SORRY. Some of you are probably hip to the Pinky Violence films of early seventies Japan, especially with a handful or recently reissued DVD's, an eye popping, mind blowing combination of not so subtle eroticism, extreme ultraviolence and over the top ACTION! The twist, being that the brutalizers tended to be bad ass Japanese women, cat fighting, beating the crap out of men, always seeming to be clad in boots and with their shirts 'accidentally' torn open to reveal their breasts. Which miraculously never kept them from kicking still more ass! What's not to love? Sort of in concert with the movies, a whole genre of erotic music was spawned, Iroke Kayoyoku, a bastardized version of a more popular music, sexed up as it were with chanteuse like crooning, but most important of all, an amazing array of moaning and groaning and cooing and giggling, as if in the throes of EXTREME passion. And at the time, 1971 (THAT seemingly perfect musical year!) this was indeed pretty dang racy and risque. The sound is a blend of soft core soundtrack music, groove jazz, playful exotica, a little Spaghetti Western, with Herb Alpert horns, fluttering jazz flutes, Spanish guitars, smokey sax, hip shaking rhythms, marimbas and xylophones, very moody and dreamy sometimes, wild and playful at others, but always with Reiko's sexy croon, and of course her very convincing sounds of passion, including an unexpected bout of spanking at one point (!) accompanied by the proper breathless exhalations of pain/pleasure. Wow! Wild and fun and sexy, but so so strange. Highly recommended for sure. Packaged in a super deluxe Japanese miniature gatefold style cd sleeve, with a printed obi, saucy nude photos of Reiko on the cover, and extensive liner notes in English and Japanese! ULTRA LIMITED!!! This is the fourth and final pressing, after the first three sold out in no time at all. Limited to only 500 copies, this is already sold out and we only got a handful, the last 15 or so from the label, so you know what that means...

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This sexy sultry silly slab of seventies Japanese exotica, now on vinyl! Some of you are probably hip to the Pinky Violence films of early seventies Japan, especially with a handful of recently reissued dvd's, an eye popping, mind blowing combination of not so subtle eroticism, extreme ultraviolence and over the top ACTION! The twist, being that the brutalizers tended to be bad ass Japanese women, cat fighting, beating the crap out of men, always seeming to be clad in boots and with their shirts 'accidentally' torn open to reveal their breasts. Which miraculously never kept them from kicking still more ass! What's not to love? Sort of in concert with the movies, a whole genre of erotic music was spawned, Iroke Kayoyoku, a bastardized version of a more popular music, sexed up as it were with chanteuse like crooning, but most important of all, an amazing array of moaning and groaning and cooing and giggling, as if in the throes of EXTREME passion. And at the time, 1971 (THAT seemingly perfect musical year!) this was indeed pretty dang racy and risque. The sound is a blend of soft core soundtrack music, groove jazz, playful exotica, a little Spaghetti Western, with Herb Alpert horns, fluttering jazz flutes, Spanish guitars, smokey sax, hip shaking rhythms, marimbas and xylophones, very moody and dreamy sometimes, wild and playful at others, but always with Reiko's sexy croon, and of course her very convincing sounds of passion, including an unexpected bout of spanking at one point (!) accompanied by the proper breathless exhalations of pain/pleasure. Wow! Wild and fun and sexy, but so so strange. Highly recommended for sure.

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

SORRY. There are a number of odd experimental records that for some reason cause detrimental tonalities in the apartment of our upstairs neighbors. CM Von Hausswollf's Ray of Light, Oval's Diskont 94, Aphex Twin's "Girl/Boy" and this piece by Ryoji Ikeda are some of the most recent suspects. Blistering shards of drum & bass fragments brutally cut up next to monstrous pure digital tones that build and pop into rhythmic sequences. Not the more serene minimalism that one normally expects from Mr. Ikeda! Needless to say, we've not been able to get through the whole album (thanks to the neighbors)...

[ aquarius records catalogue — I ]