Ove-Naxx is not only the first non-Rupture project to be released on DJ/ Rupture's Soot label, but only the second release since Rupture's debut "Gold Teeth Thief" -- almost two years ago. If you suspected that such selective behavior from Rupture would signify a high level of quality control at Soot... you would be right on the money. "Bullets From Habikino...", the work of an up and coming Japanese artist known only as Ove-Naxx (or is it actually Rupture himself under a new name as someone we know recently surmised?), is a brutally beautiful 30 minute drill and bass opus. As varied in source material as Rupture's mixes, as dark and pummelling as Scud's dancehall blowouts, and as manic as any Wobbly channel surf freakout. Recommended.
We were super psyched how crazy people went for the Ovens, whose debut full length (which crammed together 44 songs and THREE actual albums onto one disc) released earlier this year on tUMULt was easily the pop record of the year, if not EVER. These guys are total geniuses, spitting out song after song, usually a minute or less, often MUCH less, each jammed with hooks and melodies and goofy lyrics and shredding leads and pounding drums that most bands would kill for. We compared them to some impossible mix of Weezer, the Beatles, the Melvins, the Fucking Champs and Guided By Voices, and while that might capture their essence, what they do is so much more than the sum of their influences.
This 10 song 15 minute ep, recorded way back in 2003 (when they were still called the Peels), is raw and rough around the edges, much punker, but is still rife with incredible songwriting, some kick ass guitar shreddery, ridiculously catchy hooks, and those same gorgeous instrumental interludes, lyrics about how the songs sound better in their heads, getting wasted, sleeping, dying, puking and all sorts of gloriously mundane stuff. They're definitely still a pop band, but back then, their punkishness really shone through, with some of the punkest jams reminding us of the Dwarves at their poppiest, balancing their more strummy Beatles-esque moments, the two sides of the band constantly battling for supremacy, neither winning, more often than not resulting in a wild ultra chaotic falling apart draw.
The band hate this record, but fuck it, there are some awesome jams here, and anyone who bought the tUMULt full length will most likely dig this one too.
We can definitely get all hyperbolic and gushing when we're super into something, nothing wrong with that, so with that disclaimer out of the way, we can once again proclaim that these guys just might be one of our favorite local bands. Here's hoping the rest of the country, the world and the universe catch on soon.
Where to even start? Within seconds of first hearing these guys, they pretty much became our favorite local band, fuck it, favorite band period (sez Andee). Shredding hook jammed pop blasts, most less than a minute long, many of those 30 seconds and under, but each one packed with some of the catchiest most timeless sounding pop you've ever heard. Weezer meets the Beatles meets the Beach Boys meets old Bee Gees meets Guided By Voices meets the Fucking Champs, super rocking, punky here and there, metal once in a while, but always total pure pop genius, with lyrics about doing drugs, getting fired, falling down the stairs, getting hurt, how much they suck and how their songs all sound the same, doing more drugs, all delivered by a vocalist that sounds uncannily like the skinny John from They Might Be Giants! Acoustic guitars, wild shredding leads, buzzing distorted chug, warm wheezing keyboards, fluttery flutes, incredible harmonies, and HOOKS like you wouldn't believe. These guys accomplish more in 30 seconds than most pop bands can pull off over the course of a full album. And they accomplish more in these 44 songs than most bands manage in their whole careers.
Check out the first sound sample, the ultimate one-two-three-four-five power pop punch, pretty much the absolutely perfect opening salvo, five songs in less than five minutes, we've listened to that 5 song chunk about a million times. It destroys. Check it out. We'll wait.....
But don't stop there, the rest of the record is pretty much just as kick ass. Some songs are hushed and dreamy, others are pounding and super rocking, some soar majestically, others are wildly metallic freakouts, Iron Maiden-y guitar harmonies wrap around weird Melvins like falsetto vocals, summery folky strums drift over calliope like keyboards, crunchy guitars unfurl jangly jams, while the vocals drawl lazily over the top. So many different sounds and styles but all totally perfectly fused into the Ovens' weirdly perfect pop world.
The band have been recording for years, full length after full length, and minus a super short run release a few years back, the songs just sat there, until the band had a backlog of 5 full albums. Former aQ-er Matt from Wildildlife was always talking them up and when we finally managed to get some music from those guys, well shit, we were bowled over. And Andee especially, knew the world needed to hear this stuff. So this debut cd features 3 of the 5 albums jammed onto one disc. 44 Songs, every one a total hook filled gem. Live the band are as likely to kick out a cover of the Bee Gee's "Holiday" as they are some old Melvins jam. They manage to sound heavy and crunchy, but also delicate and folky, often those two sides colliding in a burst of total freaking mad genius popsmithery. If there was any justice in the world these guys would be HUGE. Every song here is as good if not better than any Weezer song, and they pull it off in half the time. The lyrics are hilarious, deadpan, self deprecating, clever and snarky, the musicianship is totally stellar, especially the guitars, the arrangements are unique, sometimes super unexpected but somehow they never take way from the song or the hook, and every curveball they throw manages to sound more catchy than off kilter. We could gush and gush, and go on and on about how pop bands like this are such a rarity, but man, how these guys went so long without blowing up, still boggles the mind. So now's the time. These guys rule. They have a new record. They're going on tour. And we're so psyched to see these guys kick out the jams at our SXSW showcase this year. They're loud and fun, and funny and catchy and heavy and super rocking, and these are some of the catchiest most kick ass songs you will ever hear. EVER!
THE FIRST 50 COPIES COME WITH A BONUS TAPE, ONLY AVAILABLE FROM AQ, featuring Ovens mainman Tony's solo stuff, not all that far removed from the Ovens, if anything, the songs are even shorter, more esoteric, sometimes heavier, a couple of the jams are full on metal or grind, but last all of 20 or 30 seconds, lots of covers, just as impossibly catchy and hooky and irresistible. 12 songs in just under 13 minutes, including cover versions of tunes by Roy Wood, Dead Milkmen, Camper Van Beethoven and Telly Savalas (!!). Comes with a cool printed insert.
MPEG Stream: "Fired From The Vogue Pt. 1 / Fired From The Vogue Pt. 2 / Same Shit Different Day / PCP Song / Everything's The Same" [/audio/ovensmedley.m3u]
More amazing stuff from the vaults from these late (maybe) great (most definitely) SF pop geniuses. Ovens was Tony Molina's grind pop juggernaut before he went 'solo', and like the Ovens cd on Andee's tUMULt label (of which these tracks were meant to be included, when it was originally planned as an 'everything ever' sort of collection), here's 4 super short, crushingly catchy timeless classic noise pop nuggets, two sides, nine minutes, a bit punkier than later Ovens stuff, but only a bit, still strummy dreamy acoustic guitars, super melodic leads, some metal guitar chug, killer vocal harmonies, impossibly hooky melodies... more pop goodness crammed into these minute long bursts than most bands manage on a whole record, equal parts Weezer, Guided By Voices, Teenage Fanclub, the Beatles (at least one blatantly and brilliantly ripped off Beatles part here, see if you can spot it), Bee Gees, the Fucking Champs, Beach Boys, Thin Lizzy, all of Molina's influences crammed into another clutch of pitch perfect poppiness.
Recorded in 2005 with Kurt Bloch of the Fastbacks, limited as always, and these Ovens singles seem to disappear crazy quick, so grab one before they're gone...
The latest (posthumous?) single from local noise pop geniuses the Ovens, fronted by Tony Molina of the Tony Molina Band, and if you've been digging Tony's recent solo lp, and have yet to hear the Ovens, prepare yourself for some seriously mind blowing pop overload. This single is untitled like the last two (and the cd on tUMULt) and like those records, this new (old) 7" is another dizzying survey of this group's impeccable pop chops. Eight songs in about 6 minutes, equal parts Weezer, Guided By Voices, Teenage Fanclub, the Beatles, the Fastbacks, Dinosaur Jr, plenty of fuzz and crunch and jangle, glorious harmonies, some shredding leads, laid back laconic vox, and as always, hooks galore, oodles of catchiness crammed into seconds. These tracks were recorded back in 2008, and this 7" is meant to be a sort of companion to the last single on Catholic Guilt. The sounds is a bit more lo-fi, but there's no disguising this sort of utter pop mastery. The only frustrating part of these micro-missives is that you'll find yourself flipping this single over and over and over and over and over, every three minutes...
Ovens just might be the most underappreciated best band in SF. Although that looks like it could maybe be about to change. The various members live in different cities now, and only really play about once a year, but at their most recent show, a few weeks back, HUNDREDS of people showed up, and went NUTS, there was a pit, and crowd surfing, in a tiny little hole in the wall club. Which might have you thinking these guys are some sort of heavy punk rock band, when in fact, they're a pop band. An amazing incredible pop band, whose songs routinely clock in at about the 30 second mark, and whose lyrics are mostly about getting drunk, getting high, getting fired or getting hurt. We joke that if their songs were longer and weren't all about drugs, they would be THEE most popular band in the land. And we believe it. Their sound like some impossible mix of Weezer, Guided By Voices, The Beatles, Thin Lizzy (who they covered at that show), Teenage Fanclub, old Bee Gees (who they also occasionally cover) and the Fucking Champs. Total hook filled pop, with killer dual guitar harmonies, shredding leads, amazing hooks, like the sort of hooks most bands would KILL for, but these guys toss out hooks like that in 20 second songs and simply move on to the NEXT killer hook. Hell, our own Andee loved Ovens so much he put out their debut full length (much more raving about these guys in that review elsewhere on the aQ site, and heck, if you don't have that yet, you should buy it NOW).
This latest blast of perfect pop is just that, perfect. Nine songs in 8 minutes, the longest song 1:59, the shortest :34, the band kicking out feedback drenched fuzzy power pop one second, lilting Beatles-esque ballad the next, a dreamy acoustic guitarscape leads right into a woozy chunk of nineties style indie rock, but with those guitar harmonies, that kill, and then it's right into another perfect chunk of miniature pop, in the amount of time it's taken to write this review, we've listened to the whole single 3 times in a row, and the thing is, now that the review's almost done, doesn't mean we have any intention of stopping.
Easily one of our favorite local bands, heck, local or not, these guys are incredible! And if you get a chance to see one of their rare (and usually brief, not to mention littered with eighties hardcore covers, although at that most recent show, they covered Leeway!!) performances, don't blow it, if there's any justice in the world, these guys will be HUGE, and the world will be humming along to their jams, 30 seconds at a time!!
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!!
Finally, the complete studio recordings of this legendary Japanese psych band, available all together, at an affordable price, and including a handful of bonus tracks, as well as their unreleased final recording session - which means even all you folks who already have these records, just might need to buy them again!
Formed in the early nineties, and originally featured on several early PSF Tokyo Flashback compilations, Overhang Party mainman Fukuoka Rinji (who also runs the Pataphysique label, which originally released most of the band's recordings) continued to make records until the early 2000's, with a handful of releases over the years (Overhang Party 1, 2 and 4 are included here, 3 was live), the ever shifting lineup of Overhang Party featuring members of Fushitsusha, LSD March, Kousokuya, High Rise, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, which should most definitely give the uninitiated an idea of Overhang Party's sound. Which is incredibly varied, from tripped out psychedelic abstractions, to full bore heavy psych freakouts.
Overhang Party's 1993 debut, starts out all spacey and minimal, scattered percussion, abstract string scrape, strange blurred melodies, distorted croons, weird animal sounds, and wild blurts of drum splatter, before launching into a dense noisy guitarnoise freeform blowout, swirling clouds of grinding, howling heaviness, laced with wild loose drumming, mostly buried in the mix, the sound more Sunroof! or Skullflower than Fushitsusha, but the next track finds Overhang Party firmly in Les Rallizes Denudes, smoldering psychedelic balladry, wailed vocals, woozy swirls of guitar thrum, simple propulsive drumming, and of course some guitar freakout, but also some hushed drift, replete with falsetto vox! The rest of one splits the difference between freak out and dramatic broody ballad, the bonus track, a 14 minute epic recorded live on KFJC in 1999, a gorgeous tranced out psychguitar blowout!
The second record, originally released the next year, starts out all riffy, and immediately launches into some heady psychedeia, that's not that far removed from classic Hawkwind, chugging, churning, soaring and epic, the vocals much more polished and pronounced, and of course plenty of heart-of-the-sun guitar shreddery. The whole of two tends toward the riffier, more melodic, more polished, but also more rocking, almost all the tracks smoldering slow building space-psych epics, culminating in some fierce mega guitar jams, with one track slipping into something more pastoral and dreamy, while the bonus track here, another live track, is like a more melodic version of the album songs proper, jangly and dreamy and lilting, but with some crunchy riffs, dramatic vox, and some spiraling tangled super distorted leads. A definitely Les Rallizes feel for sure.
For disc three, we skip ahead to 1996's Overhang Party IV, since three is a live disc, and these are the complete STUDIO recordings. IV starts off with piano, pounding away in a squall of guitar shred and cymbal shimmer, the sound immediately launching into something distinctly proggy, sounding a lot like seventies prog, but with some extra guitar, in fact, a LOT of extra guitar, which is what transforms prog into heavy psych, the song mostly one part, that builds and builds and builds. But much of IV tends toward the proggy, "Barcelona" barely getting psychedelic, but then when we get to "The The Ship Sank" which while still more moody and melodic and proggy, is seriously majestic, and heavy, the guitars distort and howl, sounding like some sort of slow burn post rock intro, expanded to a droned out epic. "Winter Lovers" gets downright Hawkwindy, before slipping right into the soaring psychedelic prog-pop of "Mirror". "G House Blues" is the live bonus track from the first disc, and in the studio, it's somehow way more abstract, a heaving wall of layered guitars, buzzing and distorted, swirling textures, pretty free form and avant, total experimental guitar freakout bliss for sure. The bonus track is total Stooges / Hawkwind heaviness, all chugging riffs, and wild wah wah guitar shred, and super dramatic soaring vox. Maybe the heaviest jam here.
The holy grail of this set though might be the final disc, the group's last ever recordings, previously unreleased, done between 2003 and 2005. The opener is all acoustic guitar and woozy bass, dreamy jangle, and keening melodies, a seriously classic rock vibe here, softly crooned vocals, a minimal amount of psyche guitar, more a sort of dreamy laid back drift. In fact the awesomely titled "Wolf, Scorpion, Earth Fang" we sort of expected to be a scorcher, especially with its buzzing guitar intro, but instead it's another psychedelic ballad, albeit one with plenty of psych guitar. It's not really until "Pyramid", that things get really rolling, a dirgey slab of buzzing heaviness, more dramatic vox, over wah guitar, and pounding drums, swirling and VERY psychedelic. "Marseille" is another broody ballad, but one that features some wild shredding psych guitar freakout, and again, has a serious Les Rallizes feel. "Who Are You" is a woozy dramatic dirge, rife with keening melodies, awkward English vox, and yeah, plenty more buzzing howling guitars. The bonus track "Duo Improvisation", is just what it sounds like, guitars and drums, freeform, spaced out and spacious, the drums jazzy and free, the guitar emotional and intense, would have loved if this jam went on for another 30 minutes, but as it is, it's a seriously potent six minutes.
So great. And perfect timing what with the recent spate of Les Rallizes reissues. Anyone who has been obsessing over that group, owes it to themselves to check these guys out. You will not be disappointed.
Most definitely essential listening for fans of Fushitsusha, Flower Travellin' Band, Taj Mahal Travellers, LSD March, Kousokuya, Les Rallizes Denudes, Miminokoto, High Rise, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, Magical Power Mako, and even Acid Mothers Temple.
Comes in a deluxe TEN panel fold out color coordinated digipak, not much in the way of liner notes, but there is a booklet, with credits for each record, as well as lyrics.
This underground Tokyo psych rock ensemble presents an extensive and expensive but freakin' great live document, recorded at shows from '95 to '99, including two tracks from their 1999 US tour that for some reason they couldn't fit on either of the two cds in
MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT!! MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT!! MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT!!
The above is of course for the benefit of the legions of Mississippi obsessives, that seems to be growing with each and every release. Fans who will buy anything and everything Mississippi, whether it's blues, or gospel, or world music, whether it's African or Greek, classic New Zealand pop, or legendary underground Portland Punk. Which is totally understandable, the guys at Mississippi have great taste, and besides their incredible compilations, and unearthed rarities, they also have a knack for picking out old records that folks have been DYING to get on vinyl. But even if you're not a Mississippi obsessive, this here is well worth checking out. And may be just the disc to convert you to the cult of Mississippi...
Here we have a kick ass gospel record from 1963, originally reissued on Arhoolie, now available on Mississippi, ON VINYL. And while we're not super well versed in gospel music, we do dig what we've heard, but very little of what we've heard sounds like the Rev. Louis Overstreet. It's festive and inspirational, but at the same time it's super rocking. Most of the tracks collected here are relentless garage gospel grooves, the guitar and drums locked into killer jams, the guitar occasionally pealing off some wild licks, but for the most part offering up a jangly twangy strum, the congregation clapping in time, and hooting and hollering. The testifying is minimal, and when there are vocals, they are alternately crooned and howled, The Rev.'s voice is gritty and soulful, but even when he's singing, it's the groove, irresistible and unstoppable and most certainly inspired. It does slow down here and there, and gets all super bluesy and soulful, but for the most part, An Evening With is some seriously rollicking and rocking praise-the-Lord good time gospel rhythm and blues!
Probably would have been a lot easier to get us to go to church when we were younger if it sounded like this!
Italian duo OvO is a band that we think a select crowd of AQ-customers will totally appreciate. But...don't look at that awful cover. Oooh, what were they thinking? Well the (sorta) little-girl voice of OvO's singer Stefania does perhaps explain the little-girl drawing on the cover (which she drew). As does the Load label's often willfully 'ugly' aesthetic. But where that illustration is sort of twee, cringe-inducing cutesiness, Stefania's voice is far from cutesy! It's a rabid, wretched little girl we're talking about. Her yelping shriek has been compared to both a squeaky toy and a wheezing dog dying by folks here at AQ. Basically, if you hate the extended high-pitched babble of Yoko Ono, stay away! Nerve-grating for sure. We don't know how she does it. Must need a lot of lozenges.
Meanwhile, OvO's music ranges from chaotic punk frenzy to plodding, art-rock dirge. In addition to the unusual, extreme vocals, OvO also uses/abuses cello, for extra droning ambience. They're hard to compare to anybody, but we'll throw out these names: the aforementioned Yoko Ono, Load labelmates Noxagt, Double Nelson, Oxbow, and Khanate. Or maybe a twisted, primitive, Japanoise version of Devil Doll ('cause they're Italian and sorta theatrical sounding). Definitely not always (ever?) easy listening, but strangely fascinating. For us, it's the endurance-testing 20 minute title track that makes this a keeper. A torturous trudge with throaty rasping and heavy doomy death-knell drums and guitar. Oppressive. Depressive. Feedback hell gargle. Very much in the vein of Corrupted and Khanate. But with witchy Yoko vox! Like we said, the select few will love it.
New on Drone Records! Ovro is a Finnish woman who has recorded a handful of dark, dark, dark electronic albums for the steel-eyed Some Place Else label. Her contribution to the Drone series curated by Stefan Knappe of Troum, features two tracks of underwater percolations and bubblings, not all of that far removed from the geothermal vent recordings that Jakob Kirkegaard presented through Touch a while back. On top of these thick, churning, low-end rumbles, Ovro musters an unsettled chorus of scraped guitars and found object manipulation that pushes what otherwise could have been a clinical investigation into geologic sound towards the sound esoterica of Cranioclast, Coil, and irr. app. (ext.). As with all Drone singles, this is limited to 300 copies; and for this edition, Ovro has hand mounted photo negatives to the covers.
We don't know too much about this strange Italian black metal band other than we fucking LOVE them. One of our new favorite BM outfits for sure. This is no ordinary buzzing black metal, although it does buzz and is most definitely BM, Ovskum, do some sort of midtempo, near ambient blackened plod. The guitars are huge and thick and seem to be crumbling into pieces, the drums are a midtempo trudge or a relentless martial march, the riffing is sometimes sludgy and thick, other times, angular and jangly, often both, a swirling slithering low end beneath keening upper register guitar skree and howled vocals. It's almost weird to call these guys black metal, they sound more like some super chaotic ambient noise rock, or spacey black sludge, or dreamy noise rock doom, all definitely fit... melodies are angular and obtuse, the drumming is sort of stumbly and simple, but the sound is HUGE, thick and swirling, raw and atmospheric, guitars are gnarled and convoluted, bits of melody and keening droneguitar are whispy streaks above the roiling fury below, some tracks forego the drums completely, and become these haunting abstract riffscapes, drifting and throbbing and crawling along malevolently... it's all so intense and dark and so so so good. No cds yet as far as we know, so needless to say both this and the s/t cassette are absolutely essential.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
Finally, the first proper vinyl release from mysterious Italian avant black metal horde Ovskum, presented by the just launched Obscure Origins label. Atto III is the first in an Ovskum reissue campaign that will hopefully also include a cd on Andee's tUMULt label.
Bu for now, let's just revel in the blackened musikal actions that make up this amazing collection of haunting and otherworldly blackness. We don't know all that much about Ovskum, but one thing we do know is that we fucking LOVE them. One of our favorite BM outfits for sure. For the uninitiated, this is no ordinary buzzing black metal, although it does buzz and is most definitely BM, Ovskum, conjure up some sort of midtempo, near ambient blackened plod. The guitars are huge and thick and seem to be crumbling into pieces, the drums are a midtempo trudge or a relentless martial march, the riffing is sometimes sludgy and thick, other times, angular and jangly, often both, a swirling slithering low end beneath keening upper register guitar skree and howled vocals. It's almost weird to call these guys black metal, they sound more like some super chaotic ambient noise rock, or spacey black sludge, or dreamy noise rock doom, all definitely fit... melodies are angular and obtuse, the drumming is sort of stumbly and simple, but the sound is HUGE, thick and swirling, raw and atmospheric, guitars are gnarled and convoluted, bits of melody and keening droneguitar are whispy streaks above the roiling fury below, some tracks forego the drums completely, and become these haunting abstract riffscapes, drifting and throbbing and crawling along malevolently... it's all so intense and dark and so so so good.
This deluxe vinyl version, comes in a plain black sleeve with a sticker on the front of the jacket, as well as a front cover insert, along with a massive printed booklet of original artwork from Morte404, the mysterious woman whose creepy line drawings have accompanied all the Ovskum releases. III collects all four actions from the 2006 s/t tape on Insikt as well as a track from Ovskum's split with Necrolust.
LIMITED TO 490 COPIES!!!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
We don't know too much about this strange Italian black metal band other than we fucking LOVE them. One of our new favorite BM outfits for sure. This is no ordinary buzzing black metal, although it does buzz and is most definitely BM, Ovskum, do some sort of midtempo, near ambient blackened plod. The guitars are huge and thick and seem to be crumbling into pieces, the drums are a midtempo trudge or a relentless martial march, the riffing is sometimes sludgy and thick, other times, angular and jangly, often both, a swirling slithering low end beneath keening upper register guitar skree and howled vocals. It's almost weird to call these guys black metal, they sound more like some super chaotic ambient noise rock, or spacey black sludge, or dreamy noise rock doom, all definitely fit... melodies are angular and obtuse, the drumming is sort of stumbly and simple, but the sound is HUGE, thick and swirling, raw and atmospheric, guitars are gnarled and convoluted, bits of melody and keening droneguitar are whispy streaks above the roiling fury below, some tracks forego the drums completely, and become these haunting abstract riffscapes, drifting and throbbing and crawling along malevolently... it's all so intense and dark and so so so good. No cds yet as far as we know, so needless to say both this and the Atto I - Atto II cassette are absolutely essential.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
While we wait patiently for the long awaited first proper lp release (reissuing some of the previous cassettes) from Italy's obscure black metallers Ovskum, coming soon on the newly launched Obscure Origins label, we're graced, or cursed perhaps by what is essentially a new full length from these masters of mysterious blackened mood music. Four tracks, nearly 40 minutes, of a sound that really can hardly be compared to any other black metal groups. A gorgeously blackened languid doom, abject and miserable and suicidal, but also hauntingly pretty, the guitars clean, seemingly floating over a bed of buzz, tangled minor key melodies, the drums a barely there pound, the whole sound so weary and woozy, the vocals appropriately anguished and howled, but way back in the mix, it's the guitars that weave the magic here, lots of harmonics, spare almost post rock guitar lines, the sound not so much loping as sort of slowed down and dragging, like listening to Make A Change Kill Yourself, with someone pressing the finger down on the vinyl, lethargic and warbly, black, and sorrowful, and haunting and almost otherworldly. A bit like a less distinctly doomy Skepticism, or maybe like a black metal Mazzy Star or something. That same sort of gauzy shoegazey quality, but not the way most bands use that quality to get all blissy, Ovskum take that sound somewhere much more abstract and dark, a truly creepy, haunting, mopey blackened slowcore. So fucking great.
The cult metal label Stormspell (who brought us all those obscure Jewels Of Gwahlur discs listed last time) has just released the cd version of this Oakland-based outfit's full-length debut, previously issued on vinyl via the band's own Magic Hermit imprint. Ovvl (or Owl - the band's name is obviously Owl but it says Ovvl here, perhaps for legal reasons 'cause there's probably a dozen other bands called Owl, or just to be weird) is a four-piece, featuring three brothers on guitars and drums, plus an unrelated female bass player. We'd seen 'em in person before, opening some local metal shows, playing heavy duty sludged-out stoner rockin' stuff, but they hadn't made much of an impression - until we heard this disc. Sometimes (as it was with Saviours) that's what it takes, a chance to listen to 'em at home, undistracted, not at the bar getting beers and talking to friends. And turns out, for this sort of thing, they're pretty dang good!
What sort of thing? Well, Stormspell aren't just about '80s styled true metal and thrash, they're also into heavy retro '70s psych sounds (they did the debut Noctum disc after all). And that's what Ovvl delivers, clearly influenced by the likes of Sabbath and Budgie, and at times reminding us a lot of early Monster Magnet. Fuzzed out, bell bottomed badassery!
The album opens with the energetic "Gypsy River", a concise biker boogie rocker with cleverly cliche hippie blues lyrics we can't help but dig (mostly about how the titular Gypsy River is driving the singer insane). The second track, "Medicine Mirror", mixes together Sabbathy riffs, Thin Lizzy-ish guitar harmonies, and UFO vocal melodies (we're hearing a little "Doctor Doctor" in the refrain). Yeah, it's easy to play a game of spot the influences from Ovvl's dad's '70s classic rock record collection, but they do it in a way that's not at all unacceptable, mashing all that good stuff up and making it heavier - and at least there's more than one influence at work, unlike with, um, those other local heavies, Orchid.
Then on track three, "Glaurung", Ovvl stretch out for a 10+ plus prog suite fixated on Middle Earth fantasy, that begins in an acoustic Led Zeppelin mode before turning into more of a lumbering Pentagram-style riffer, with vocals that totally remind us of Bobby Liebling. And there's a drum solo! Other tracks on the album adopt a rougher vocal style, and crank up the punk energy, sounding more like contemporaries The Shrine or Hot Lunch.
And so it goes, these presumably pot-puffing throwbacks telling tales of demon rides and snake-eyed goblin women. Music for mystic partiers, basically. And who wouldn't want to be a mystic partier? We'll be spinning this a lot. GYPSY RIVER YOU ARE DRIVING ME INSANE!!!!
Very warm and pretty! Waves of dreamy strummi-ness and murmured vocals. Drifting in a similar path to that of Tristeza, the newest American Analog Set album or fellow Chicago, IL mellow boys Sea And Cake... actually, I very much prefer this. So who is Owen
With his high energy honky tonk sound and loud, twangy telecaster playing Buck Owens was not only partially responsible for revitalizing a dying country music scene -- with Nashville favoring ever more slick and syrupy production values -- but he's also often given credit for being the godfather of modern country (Yoakam, Brooks, et al). For the former we are thankful, and to the latter we can justly forgive him. After all, Buck Owens' music has about as similar to those "young country" artists as night and day. The scant 11 tracks included here were all recorded on the very cusp of Owens' fame in the mid-fifties, just before he signed to Capitol. Of particular interest here is a track called "Rhythm And Booze", the b-side to single Owens recorded under the pseudonym Corky Jones. Apparently Owens, then primarily a side man, recorded some sides for an L.A. based label of rockabilly tunes for some extra cash. While this disc is short, just about 20 minutes long, its well worth the investment as there's really not a dud in the batch. Like the other discs in this series there are some excellent liner notes by our friend Kurt Wolff (author of the Rough Guide To Country Music, among other things.)
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
The very earliest recordings from country star Buck Owens. Though he's most known for his pioneering honky tonk sound, influencing a future generation of country stars including Dwight Yoakam and Clint Black, he's heard here in a much more raw and immediate
Hmm. If CaseQuarter digs up some more gospel music like *this*, I might have to consider actually going to church some Sunday... First they brought us that wonderful Rev. Charlie Jackson collection last year, and now this, a debut album of unique gospel blues guitar stylings and amazing singing from the 72-year old Isaiah Owens. And while the Rev. Jackson disc consisted of private-press singles released in the '70s, Isaiah Owens was playing this stuff live on the radio just a few years ago. It was 1998 when Casequarter's Kevin Nutt first heard Owens on Montgomery, Alabama AM station WMGY (and some of the tracks found here he taped off the radio then!). Of course, Owens had been musically active for some time before this, singing gospel since the '50s in a group called The Flying Clouds of Montgomery, but only picking up the guitar in the '80s! And being such a late starter on the instrument, he developed what you'll discover here to be a quite original style all his own. It's not intentionally avant-garde and atonal but let's just say that his self-taught playing is quite at odds with tradition...and makes for quite an accompaniment to his strong, accomplished vocals. With these raw, loud, rhythmic, dissonant chords he sure aims to get the attention of both the Lord and the radio listener. Casequarter suggests that Owens' guitar sounds like a sanctified Hasil Adkins...we'd concur and also add that if you've heard underground Japanese folk troubadour Makami Kan you will hear a parallel for sure. And like Makami Kan's music, this is certainly some honest, soulful stuff. God-lovin' fervor that can't be faked. You'll feel it. Quite recommended! Includes four cd-only bonus tracks and informative liner notes from Knutt, who's also gospel-show DJ at our favorite station, WFMU.
We loved the most recent record on Paradigms from these Boston psychedelic drifters, a haunting collection of abstract dronefolk and electronic flecked ambient drift. But for whatever reason, we never got enough copies to list, which is a shame, cuz it's definitely something aQ dronefans would dig. But hopefully, we'll make up for it a bit with this new one, a single track lp called Destroyers Of The Moon, which is a gloriously epic landscape of cinematic swirls, of dusky twang, of thick analog synth thrum, sweeping strings, subtly psychedelic effects, super dark and brooding, haunting and cinematic, the music is a lush layered sprawl of long tones, of disembodied chamber music, and of ominous dronefolk doominess. The vocals are a raspy whisper, giving the movements with vocals the feel of one of the Neurosis acoustic side projects, but when the vocals fade, the sound blossoms into something more abstract, draping smoldering folky twang over heaving rumbles and swells, the vibe is a little bit Barn Owl, a little bit later Earth, some slow build Godspeed going on too, especially with the strings, and while it's not a single album long track proper, it is essentially a linked set of songs, an epic songsuite of spectral, minimalist doom folk chamber psych dreaminess.
But it's not all hushed and dreamlike, thick swaths of fuzz guitar roll in, adding some shadowy heft, and transforming the sound into something a bit more droned out and almost metallic, but never fully loosing itself from the swirling psychedelic spaciness and creeping downer folk that is the core of Owlfood's sound. There's one stretch of soft, rumbling noise, droned out and mesmerizing, that gradually coalesces into some clanging jangly chords, bursting into some noisy effects heavy strum, the vocals follow suit, even more heavily effected, it's super dramatic and tripped out, and might just be the best part of the record, tense and intense, super tripped out, but still anchored by those Morricone-esque guitar melodies, building to a seriously freaked out sonic squall, one we almost wish could have been sustained for the rest of the record, but instead, the song shifts back into doomfolk mode, and the rest of the record, drifts darkly, from strummed, sinister mesmer, to string flecked folk-drone shimmer, finishing with a bit of swirling string psychedelia.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES!! Includes a digital download as well!
All the people in Owls were in the far punker outfit Cap'n Jazz, but this band is more like the Owls' Kinsella Bros other project Joan of Arc. Midtempo angular emo with tortured vocals (which kind of ruin it for me, but I'm stupid). On Jade Tree.
We first discovered mysterious multiple w'd dronedrift outfit Owwl via a cd-r that showed up one day in the mail, and we were pretty much totally smitten on first listen. This German duo specializes in that sort of ultra minimal dronemusic we can't ever get enough of, blackened sprawls of obsidian thrum and softly pulsating rumbles, long tones spread way out and layered into lush landscapes of dark overtones and perceived rhythms. The thing that really made Owwl stand out was that they augmented their drones with a 19th century reed organ, giving the sound a haunting organic feel, and transforming it into something much more emotional and evocative than most the guitardrone records we hear.
So it makes perfect sense that they would end up on Utech, who seem to specialize in the sort of blackened minimalism and psychdrone mesmer that Owwl traffic in, and it is indeed a perfect match. This latest missive from Owwl is even darker and denser than the cd-r, the sounds impossibly lush, at times reminding us of some Phill Niblock piece slowed down to a crawl, but with the same sort of overtones, the sound deceivingly static, but alive with all manner of sonic subtleties. But it's not all pure dronemusic, the band do explore a more psychedelic sound, creating shimmery ragas, the harmonium unfurling a gorgeously warm thrum, that the group stretch waaaaay out, wreathing it in guitar buzz and pulsating swells of crumbling distortion, or wrapping it in sheets of muted feedback. The sound veers into an almost industrial black ambience, abject and corrosive, but still washed out and dreamlike, before settling into a long stretch of whirring chordal shimmer, a dense softnoise cloud that seems to ooze and expand, the sound growing more and more lush, the blackness revealing colors hidden within, a smoldering soundworld of blunted tones, blurred chords, and beautiful black drift.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!! Housed in a super striking oversized sleeve.
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We've mentioned it before, but we do find it sort of strange, the device of doubling a letter in a band name (Mutiilation, Celestiial) or even adding s superfluous one (Wooden Shjips), and now we have Owwl, and granted, Owwl is a way cooler name that Owl. This German duo sent us their cd-r, and like many things, there it sat, for way too long, cuz when we finally did throw it on, we were pretty captivated. Guitardrone records are no new thing, but these guys definitely offer their own take, the instrumentation to begin with, guitar feedback and a 19th century reed organ, and that's it, improvised live in the studio, these three long tracks are lush and dark and haunting and hypnotic. The guitar and the organ both trafficking mostly in low tones so it's often difficult to tell which is which, deep rumbles, and layered whirs, keening almost melodies, the sound so thick at times it almost sounds orchestral, often building to epic crescendos, the sound threatening to crumble, the feedback just this side of howling, instead pulsing and undulating and adding a subtle, almost rhythmic component.
The tracks slip easily from high end thrum, to deep sonorous shimmer, the various bits of buzz and rumble, often turning caustic, the sounds becoming crunchy and crumbly, the distortion seeming to transform the notes and chords into strange decaying textures, sometimes splintering into near chaos, other times slipping into more meditative drifts. The final track is a series of dense swells, the layered tones pulsing and beating against each others, the various overtones creating strange overlapping rhythms, the sound seemingly alive, an active expanse of droneguitar on the verge of blossoming into pure psychedelia, especially when a cascading avalanche of high end tones rains down on the churning black rumble below.
LIMITED TO 70 COPIES!!! Each one hand numbered. These are the last copies available. They come packaged in super swank hand made mini book-like sleeves, with an actual photo affixed to the front, while inside there's a nice printed vellum insert.
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For those of you unfamiliar with OX, a quick look at the cover should tell you all you need to know. The image on the front it a towering Orange amplifier, the back cover, a close up of some amplifier vacuum tubes. Two songs to a side, with titles like "Seismic", "Mass", "The Horror" and "Abyss". And hell, the record's called Aftermath. Plus, it's on Finnish label Kult Of Nihilow, who in the past have brought us records from Boris, , Dot [.], Church Of Misery, Fleshpress and Stumm. So if you guessed massive, pummeling, sloooooow, doooooom, dirge heaviness, you've definitely come to the right place.
We listed a 10" from OX years ago, and sadly we were only ever able to get about a dozen. We got a whole lot more this time, but these will probably still be gone before you know it. OX is the one man guitar doom project of Ken Baluke, who spends most of his time wielding his axe in Canadian doom groove outfit Sons Of Otis, but in OX, it's just him, and his guitar, and what sounds like lots and lots of really big amps. OX is definitely a practitioner of that sort of slow motion sludge guitar ambience, but definitely has his own unique angle. The core of OX's sound is a thick slithery Earth 2 style glacial riffing, a black liquid doom that sort of seeps out of your speakers, but above this dense low end is a gloriously fuzzed out effulgence, all glistening fuzz and radiant sparkle. Those two extremes all tangled up and constantly bleeding into one another. Haunting and heavy and so beautiful. Not sure whether it's supposed to play at 33 or 45, but sounds great either way. On 33 it's a sloooooooooooow crawl, at 45, it's still slow, but a little less murky and more luminous. Sort of like having two different, but equally heavy and kick ass records in one!
LIMITED TO 255 COPIES!! We got about 40 of those, and once they are gone we most likely won't be able to get more.
Another amazing release from Finland's Kult Of Nihilow label (who brought us the Dot [.] 10" elsewhere on this list), this time from Ox, otherwise known as Ken from Canada's Sons Of Otis. Movements finds Ken, the axeman responsible for some of the heaviest stoner doom we've ever heard, taking his guitar playing to the farthest reaches of metal, ending up in some seriously grim and glacial territory, alongside minimal doom brethren Earth and Sunn 0))), In fact, if one didn't know better, on first listen, one could certainly be forgiven for thinking this was indeed a record by one of those slow motion doom legends. But that would be selling Ox a little short. Imagine Earth at their most ambient, then smooth off all the rough edges, until distorted guitars become slowly shifting tectonic plates, a glacial drone, dense with lumbering, rumbling tones. Doomy and dark, beautiful and serene.
Seriously limited to only 320 copies, of which we have 12, and we will NOT be able to get more. Beautifully packaged in thick black sleeve printed with metalllic silver ink.
This is REAL 'emo' rock, let me tell you. Not indie-pop emo but totally heavy, insane, noisy emotionally cathartic art rock mayhem. URB magazine says this is a 'must have', which is pretty bizarre because while WE think Oxbow rules, it's hard to imagine
We've written a lot about this band over the years (many years - they've been around for, like, 20!). Here's a quote: "Oxbow have always languished in relative obscurity here in the US when they really deserve to be ruling the whole damn world. Essential, intense, heavy, dark, weird, artful, aggressive, fucked genius with few peers."
We said that years ago about the previous reissue of Fuckfest (as an import double cd with their 2nd album King Of The Jews) and while they've gotten a bit less obscure - their unholy alliance with the Hydra Head empire has helped a lot in recent years, way better for them than their former label, SST - and Oxbow now have fans from among the legions of metalcore/postrock kids for sure, they still aren't yet the overlords of all that they should be. Maybe in the next life (now that would be a shock!). Those that have gotten into 'em though, in this life, are indeed the chosen ones.
Now Hydra Head has done all the new Oxbow fans a favor and reissued the band's magnificent 1989 debut Fuckfest on cd by itself for the first time, in a nice mini-lp-style sleeve, remastered. If you haven't heard Oxbow before, this is just the place to start, begin at the beginning. If you have heard Oxbow, but haven't heard Fuckfest, then you need to. All their albums are amazing, but this one is the one that first blew our minds way back when (well along with King Of The Jews, their other early effort that followed this in 1991, we first heard 'em both together on 2-on-1 cd Balls In the Great Meat Grinder Collection released by the long defunct Pathological label in the UK), and has the same effect today. Some insane shit here folks.
Fuckfest features all the trademark Oxbow elements... Sheer heaviness and suspenseful calm. Nearly indecipherable yet disturbingly expressive, anguished, almost hysterical vocals. Transgressive lyrics bawled by a man-baby-monster. Massive sheets of swampy slide guitar. Skittery bleeding hand solos. Led Zeppish cockrock riffage one moment, abstract angular post punk dissonance the next. Tinkling piano. Jazz infected drumming, country tinged atmosphere. What we'd now call postrock loud-soft dynamics. Music that's cathartic, cacophonous and complex. As well as impassioned and emotive. And exceedingly well crafted.
This album is maybe Oxbow at their most "metal" (and punk). After all, the original release was billed as "a six-song mega-muscled trip into total desperation". Certainly it's a tour de force of primal screaming stomping staggering, that's also surprisingly full of beaten-down beauty.
You could compare Oxbow then and now to the likes of the Jesus Lizard, the Melvins, the Bad Seeds, and there's elements of all of those here, but from the get-go Oxbow was OXBOW. Nothing else like 'em, and that's not even taking their infamous live performances into account.
To quote something else one of us (Allan, when he interviewed guitarist Niko in the first issue of his old 'zine) wrote about Oxbow long ago: "Oxbow is definitely a what-the-hell-is-this? kind of band... I can only describe their sound as kinda if you took, say, the Jesus Lizard, Neurosis, the Ruins, and Caroliner and got them all howling at the moon together". Again, that just means they're unique. And amazing. (And, to be sure, maybe not for everyone.) Fuckfest proves all that, though fans know already.
Thanks, Hydra Head. Presumably we can look forward to a similar reissue of King Of The Jews soon too? The same review above will go for it too, pretty much!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Double cd collecting the first two utterly amazing Oxbow lps from '89 and '91, which previously were available on cd as The Balls In The Great Meat Grinder Collection on the UK's Pathological label, now out of print--but that was only one disc, which meant a whole song was scrapped, and another faded out. Those have been restored here, plus you get an unreleased track called "Pannonica" from the King Of The Jews sessions. Guests on these albums include Lydia Lunch and Klaus Floride. Recently returned from a tour in Japan, Oxbow have always langushed in relative obscurity here in the US (current domestic label=SST, argh) when they really deserve to be ruling the whole damn world. Essential, intense, heavy, dark, weird, artful, aggressive, fucked genius with few peers.
If someone had never heard San Francisco's Oxbow before, and knew nothing about them - or for that matter knew nothing about Sammy Davis Jr. either - we wonder what they'd make of that album title/cover art? Definitely wouldn't help 'em guess what sort of music lies within, some of the earliest and insanest stuff by an AQ fave band we lovingly call "fucked rock geniuses". If you are one of those innocent souls who have never heard Oxbow before, well, dive in here and see if you can take it. And needless to say, if you are already an Oxbow fan, of course you NEED this if you don't have it already, which you might not, since until now Oxbow's 1991 sophomore album King Of The Jews has never been available as a domestic compact disc release. It has been paired previously with their 1989 debut Fuckfest as an abridged single cd, and then later as a double, both imports long out of print, as are of course the original vinyl lps on Oxbow's own label CFY Records. And this new Hydra Head reissue is the most deluxe and definitive, packaged in a nice paste-on mini lp-style sleeve, and enhanced with four bonus tracks, three of 'em previously unreleased.
Back when we reviewed Hydra Head's similarly presented, equally essential reissue of Fuckfest in 2009, we said that when they did King Of The Jews, we'd probably just write more or less the same review, that is, saying that this record also displays all the elements of Oxbow we appreciate: primal swampy skree and atmospheric loud-soft dynamics, lumbering slide guitar sickness and singer Eugene's regression therapy vocal histrionics... it's part Scratch Acid (or Jesus Lizard), part Butthole Surfers, part Birthday Party, part Cormac McCarthy novel, part primal psycho-sexual cabaret, part utterly alien WTF?!
This album's special guest star Lydia Lunch joins the madness on 2 of the cuts, "Daughter" and "Angel", utterly subsumed into the crazy, kecak-y, confusional handclap chaos of the former (what an album opener, damn!!), adding extra drama to the latter. Not that Oxbow needs much help in the drama department; Eugene's bedlamite mewlings and mutterings amidst the band's desolate atmospheres and sudden rock spasms are both bizarre and intense and go way beyond mere music-as-entertainment that's for sure.
Oxbow has been keeping rock weird for a long time now, and this is one of the most crucial documents in their entire discography. It'll clue you to the Oxbow formula of lots of tension, not so much release, though there's more of the latter here than on some other Oxbow outings... Highly, highly recommended!
At last! This 1995 Oxbow opus, the third album from our favorite San Francisco fucked rock geniuses, has been reissued, with two never-before released bonus tracks appended. A Steve Albini production, the album proper features special guests the Rova Saxophone Quartet, while the bonus tracks see Oxbow collaborating with the late Kathy Acker, the feminist/punk writer. For those unfamiliar with the wonders of Oxbow, this album would make a fine introduction, and fans of course MUST OWN it. It shows off their weirdly catchy brand of aggro art rock, totally heavy and, what's the word, transgressive? When they're not kicking your ass, they can get into some hauntingly gorgeous droney territory as well (as on bonus track#1). But their forte is sliding seasick Led Zeppelin guitar riffage with wailing mental-breakdown vocals, songs loaded with hard-hitting, post-post-rock dynamics and complexity. Let Me Be A Woman, like all of Oxbow's best work, radiates a shuddering vibe of despair, angst, and seething violence. Terrible beauty indeed. Originally on Dutch label Brinkman, this now appears via the French label Ruminance, testament to the superior tastes of Continentals we suppose!
Rock and roll as a raw nerve art form, that's the intense Oxbow aethetic... a band that dares you to listen, much less attend one of their shows. Avant garde yet drawn to swampy roots, Oxbow's approach is both intellectual and primal at the same time, these men channeling psychic and physical distress into their music, so much tension and release it's disturbing to behold... This brilliant and unique Bay Area outfit has been going strong against all odds for almost two decades now (!) and with each passing year seem to gain a wider audience, despite never ever being a part of any scene or trend. Not one that would help them, anyway. Except maybe now, that they've seemingly been accepted into the Neurosis/Isis axis of arty post-metal noisecore, releasing their last full-length An Evil Heat 4 or 5 years ago on the Neurot label and now (finally!) reappearing on Hydra Head with this cd+dvd package. Love That's Last isn't exactly the new Oxbow opus we've being waiting for, since it's not an all-new album but rather a collection, complete with commentary and lyrics in the booklet, of unreleased live cuts, improv tracks, compilation rarities, and a few "greatest hits" from their hard to find early albums. You'll certainly get a representative serving of their cathartic ugly/pretty rock action here, with all of Oxbow's characteristic Bonham beats, slide guitar skronk, droning ambience, and of course the distinctive mewling/screaming baby monster vocalizations of scary front man/fighting man Eugene Robinson. Highlights (and that's what all this is, really) range from their infamous "Insylum" duet with Marianne Faithful from 1996's Serenade In Red to the 1998 live recording "Glimmer Bird" to the prototypical expression of Oxbow anguish that is "Yoke" from their 1989 Fuckfest debut. Ten tracks in all... you too might be crying like a baby when it's over. Oxbow would be happy about that.
The DVD portion includes 5.1 mixes of a handful of Oxbow classics, plus filmmaker Christian Anthony's Oxbow documentary Music For Adults (previously available here at AQ when it was a dvd-r release) with outtakes too, AND a bunch of additional live footage of the band in Belgium and San Francisco. Here's what we said about Music For Adults before: "Now you can vicariously join Oxbow for their summer 2002 European tour. Even better than actually being there, you can enjoy their shows and tour hijinx without running any risk of Oxbow singer Eugene getting you in a headlock (and pulling down your pants, as happens to at least one unhappy Scotsman in this film). The live footage captures the Oxbow rock machine in all their twisted, bawling glory, while the 'behind-the-scenes' stuff will show you that they're actually all really nice guys!"
So, Oxbow fans NEED this. And it's obviously the first thing the prospective Oxbow fan needs to pick up as well. Hopefully that's just what's gonna happen. Recommended as always with all Oxbow product!
NOW ON VINYL!! Gatefold.
Finally! What, five years in the making? It's been that long since San Francisco's unhinged avantgarde-hardcore-blues-metal artistes the one and only Oxbow last lashed an explosive new full-length recording to our heads and pulled the pin, way back in 2002 with An Evil Heat. Yeah, last year's "live and rare" cd+dvd collection Love That's Last was great for fans and newcomers alike, but also whetted our appetite to hear some actual new dementia from this unique outfit. But Oxbow have always done things at their own leisure, having been around for long enough to now be selling records to metalcore kids who were probably not even born when Oxbow's first album, Fuckfest, came out in 1989. This is only their sixth studio album since then, but when you make music this intense, this cathartic, this disturbed, deviant, raw, heavy, fucked up, etc. etc. (to use a bunch of the usual words to appropriately describe Oxbow) it's not like you could, or should, make that many albums. It wouldn't be healthy!
Over the years, Oxbow has inevitably changed, grown, matured. The mania of early albums like Fuckfest and King Of The Jews has been relaxed (though always ready to erupt), and there's been more in the way of beauty crammed into their complex compositions to contrast with the ugly stuff. Even as they find more and more of a "metal" audience with releases on Neurot and now Hydra Head, their music is sweetened with strings and piano... But The Narcotic Story still brutalizes with the Oxbow basics: sinewy slide guitar riffage, moody soft-loud dynamics, mathrock tightness, and of course the psychotic vocals & lyrics of singer-you-wouldn't-want-to-fuck-with Eugene Robinson. His delivery is sometimes like a mewling baby, sometimes like a crotchety grandpa, usually both at the same time, Robinson his own multi-tracked schizoid choir. Here, his homeless-man mumbling and primal screams are joined by more coherent singing. But you'll still have to listen hard to figure out what he's on about -- if you dare. Just like at an Oxbow show, it's dangerous to get too close.
Definitely, Robinson is an essential part of the Oxbow equation (one that will make or break the band for the uninitiated), but his naked displays of verbal and non-verbal (again, go see 'em live!) nihilism wouldn't carry the same weight without the sparse tension, technical precision, and dramatic, damaged melodicism provided by the instrument-equipped band members. The Narcotic Story finds them keeping up their end as well. "Frankly Frank" is a classic, swampy Oxbow creepy-crawl, "She's A Find" a lovely, lush dirge. These tracks and all the rest here are the Oxbow fix old addicts like us want and need, and ought to hook a few unsuspecting, previously clean-living youths as well, for whom Isis and Neurosis were the gateway drugs...
Back in stock! We've now got the French version of this classic Oxbow album. No, it's not IN French, we mean now that the original SST cd is out of print, we've imported copies of the cd edition released in France on the Ruminance label (home also of Cheval De Frise and Chevreuil). Here's our review from when it was an Aquarius Record Of The Week back in 1999:
A masterpiece of dark, cathartic, emotional rock cabaret from this great San Francisco band. Heavy slide guitar, baby-like wailings (from Oxbow's large, scary, nearly-naked body builder frontman Eugene), Nick Cave-ambience & math-rock technicality. Kind of like the Jesus Lizard meets Marianne Faithfull, except that Ms. Faithfull actually does appear on this record! (and the Lizard do not; Oxbow slaughters them...) I might also mention the cover pic by Richard Kern and the production by Steve Albini, but Oxbow are their own special thing, original and amazing, and those celebs are mere hangers-on.
San Francisco's legendary confrontational exports Oxbow return with another sonic beatdown in the form of this vinyl only release. The first side features the band and French noisemaker Philippe Thiphaine winging it in the studio. The fact that these songs are improvisations recorded "in 180 non-successive minutes" is testament to this band's unholy powers. The songs are lumbering and almost doomy at times, but Eugene Robinson's crazed vocals give the band a slurred swamp blues feel. It kind of sounds like the Jesus Lizard on quaaludes - meaning this is right up our alley. It's disturbing and awesome, and Oxbow, more than most bands, really understand how to work with negative space for that extra dose of creepiness. It's sort of like walking down a dark alley and knowing you're about to get your ass kicked, without knowing exactly when. At the same time, Oxbow are experts at rocking out. Their sound is nihilistic and unstoppable like few others. It wouldn't be right to call them "metal," but they certainly possess many attributes that so many metal bands just can't grasp but desperately wish they could. One thing's certain: Oxbow are scary as fuck.
Side 2 features the band in the most ideal setting - live, in concert, terrifying small clubs throughout Europe (though not France, if you are curious). The band simply SLAYS here, and if you needed any more proof of their truly unique sound, look no further. It's interesting that Oxbow takes a sort of post-punk starting point and ventures seamlessly into greater realms of musical exploration. Robinson's voice is something to behold here as he screeches and moans like a crazy man. The band is in top form on these tracks, displaying a loping, queasy attack that is both tight as hell and almost, ahem, "jazzy" at times. It's heavy and atonal as it winds all over the place, and strangest of all, it's actually kind of catchy. It sounds like the culmination of years of collective hatred and a perfect understanding of their own sound.
This one comes housed in a classy thick sleeve on nice heavy vinyl, and we give this bad boy our highest recommendation.
Finally! What, five years in the making? It's been that long since San Francisco's unhinged avantgarde-hardcore-blues-metal artistes the one and only Oxbow last lashed an explosive new full-length recording to our heads and pulled the pin, way back in 2002 with An Evil Heat. Yeah, last year's "live and rare" cd+dvd collection Love That's Last was great for fans and newcomers alike, but also whetted our appetite to hear some actual new dementia from this unique outfit. But Oxbow have always done things at their own leisure, having been around for long enough to now be selling records to metalcore kids who were probably not even born when Oxbow's first album, Fuckfest, came out in 1989. This is only their sixth studio album since then, but when you make music this intense, this cathartic, this disturbed, deviant, raw, heavy, fucked up, etc. etc. (to use a bunch of the usual words to appropriately describe Oxbow) it's not like you could, or should, make that many albums. It wouldn't be healthy!
Over the years, Oxbow has inevitably changed, grown, matured. The mania of early albums like Fuckfest and King Of The Jews has been relaxed (though always ready to erupt), and there's been more in the way of beauty crammed into their complex compositions to contrast with the ugly stuff. Even as they find more and more of a "metal" audience with releases on Neurot and now Hydra Head, their music is sweetened with strings and piano... But The Narcotic Story still brutalizes with the Oxbow basics: sinewy slide guitar riffage, moody soft-loud dynamics, mathrock tightness, and of course the psychotic vocals & lyrics of singer-you-wouldn't-want-to-fuck-with Eugene Robinson. His delivery is sometimes like a mewling baby, sometimes like a crotchety grandpa, usually both at the same time, Robinson his own multi-tracked schizoid choir. Here, his homeless-man mumbling and primal screams are joined by more coherent singing. But you'll still have to listen hard to figure out what he's on about -- if you dare. Just like at an Oxbow show, it's dangerous to get too close.
Definitely, Robinson is an essential part of the Oxbow equation (one that will make or break the band for the uninitiated), but his naked displays of verbal and non-verbal (again, go see 'em live!) nihilism wouldn't carry the same weight without the sparse tension, technical precision, and dramatic, damaged melodicism provided by the instrument-equipped band members. The Narcotic Story finds them keeping up their end as well. "Frankly Frank" is a classic, swampy Oxbow creepy-crawl, "She's A Find" a lovely, lush dirge. These tracks and all the rest here are the Oxbow fix old addicts like us want and need, and ought to hook a few unsuspecting, previously clean-living youths as well, for whom Isis and Neurosis were the gateway drugs...
FYI, we hear that someday Hydra Head has plans to release a deluxe edition of this cd, in some sort of special packaging, a hardback book apparently... dunno when though.
We sold through our stash of these in nothing flat when we first listed this a little while back. Luckily, one of our distributors got a handful in, so we grabbed all we could, so everyone who missed out on this the first time around, now's your chance (probably your last chance)...
Two different sides of longtime aQ faves Oxbow, recorded live at the Supersonic festival in 2007.
The A side features a handful of Oxbow tracks, all stripped down and acoustic - just acoustic guitar, and the wild feral mewling of frontman Eugene Robinson. And you would think that playing stripped down and acoustic would make it sound more mellow, less frenzied and intense, but it doesn't. In plenty of places, it's like the guitar isn't even there, it's definitely Eugene's show. A wild caterwaul that even somehow gets the crowd shouting along. Intense and emotional, darkly intimate, but still strangely sinister and explosive. Essential for sure for all Oxbow fanatics.
But it's the flipside that will probably make this disappear in no time. A side long jam, that begins much like the A side tracks, simple urgently strummed acoustic guitar, and those primal vocals, until the guests make their presence known, Stephen O'Malley from SUNNO))), and Justin Broadrick from Jesu / Godflesh, the bass player from God, and even a string quartet. When those folks join the fray, it sounds almost like you might imagine, the acoustic guitar and vocals, buried under moaning strings and sheets of soaring blissed out high end, streaks of glistening feedback, crumbling rumbling swells of downtuned amp melting grind, thick sheets of buzz and shimmer, all draped over the haunting acoustic Oxbow musical drama unfolding beneath. Pretty amazing. Here's hoping these guys stopped by a studio to capture more of this stuff. But until that happens, this will most likely be your only chance to hear Oxbow's twisted, frenzied, so called "Love's Holiday Orchestra".
Beautifully packaged in super thick black matte sleeves, with silver metallic printing, with an insert featuring photos of the evening's festivities, as well as Oxbow guitarist Niko Wenner's recollection of the evening's festivities... which according to Eugene, leaves out the critical part where they left him for dead, knocked out and unconscious on the stage!
You know Oxbow, our favorite cult, avant-garde, psycho-sexual hard rock outfit from right here in San Francisco? Well now thanks to filmmaker Christian Anthony, now you can vicariously join Oxbow for their summer 2002 European tour. Even better than actually being there, you can enjoy their shows and tour hijinx without running any risk of Oxbow singer Eugene getting you in a headlock (and pulling down your pants, as happens to at least one unhappy Scotsman in this film). The live footage captures the Oxbow rock machine in all their twisted, bawling glory, while the 'behind-the-scenes' stuff will show you that they're actually all really nice guys! The sound is fine for the performances, but sometimes you'll have to turn up your tv to make out the interview portions due to unavoidable background noise. It's a DVD-R, homemade production but totally pro in filmic execution. Definitely one for Oxbow fans, to tide you over until they play your town again (unlikely unless you live in SF or in Europe) and 'til their next album comes out (rumored to be a Hydrahead release in 2005). Folks unacquainted with Oxbow might be mystified, but if you've got the right stuff you might just become a fan too. Check it out...
Got your calculators? Oxes sure do. Comin' at ya wielding their battalion of Texas Instruments. Simply put, this is indie metal / mathrock = trying to be tight and fiery, but somewhat lacking the chops to execute it as skillfully as required. So instead it sounds like east coast metalcore's sloppy younger brother. 4 + 3 = 7/4. Time signatures for the sake of time signatures. They're probably pretty rad live though.
Hailing from Charm City [Bal'more, MD], the sly math-rock trio of Oxes have been spending a lot of time apart these days with 1/3 of them living in Italy. By their ep's artwork, this has had a dynamic effect on the band. An amazing array of photos and photo-collage shows 2/3 of the band heavily immersed in Americana: hot dogs, guns, football, KFC, donuts, Budweiser, Mr. T and the like; while the other third calmly plays a flirtatious game of cards while lazing time away with a coffee and a beautiful lady in a little Italian deli.
Again a molto scrappy recording here -- though if you're a fan of the band, at this point you can use your memory of how awesome and hilarious they are when they play live to buffer the sound quality. These songs are a little more macho than we remember the band being in the past. Several veiny rock-guitar solos make us think they watched some cool Hendrix bootlegs before writing some of the songs. So dare we go so far as to say that EP is less math, more rock?! Yes, finally the Oxes have thrown off their glasses, let their hair down and shown us some leg!
We love that they included little details of the band's history in the cover art: their Mall of America Wheaties cereal box cover photo, and a slice of artwork from their last release Oxxxes.
Hope they have a full length up their sleeves soon.
Ever wonder what happens when you cross the modern classical riffage of The (Fucking) Champs with the chromatic stop-start edginess of Shellac? Yeah, me neither... but if you did, you would have something like this. That is, if you had no bass and
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
There are rumors flying around that the Arab on Radar side of this record is in fact the Oxes paying a very convincing tribute to the Providence, RI quartet (which it is in fact!!). The fact that the recording is inconsistent with past AoR efforts, not to mention the similarities between the two bands' recordings here, plus the fact that the photographs on the front and back of this lp are of the same band (the rear being a mockery of AOR live -- most notably the drummer walking away from his kit in a state of disarray) furthers those rumors. A wonderfully annoying record nonetheless.
Here's the third album (their debut on Sub Pop) from breezy Brooklyn popsters Oxford Collapse, an indie rock band who unflinchingly replicate the sounds of beloved bands such as Modest Mouse and Pinback. While we can assure fans of those two bands that they'll probably find many ear pleasers comin' from this trio, we can also say the same to the lovers of Arcade Fire, Hidden Cameras, Ok Go and Architecture In Helsinki. The album's totally wistfully feel-good. Even if you didn't have summertime sweetie, these songs will make you feel like you did.
Two of our favorite WTF black metal oddities from the late nineties, available again thanks to the weirdos at Ormolycka, and listening to these records again all these years later, they still sound as ridiculous and confusional as they did back in the day. Not at all what we were expecting from a former member of At The Gates, but we're guessing this could very well have been the reason for his departure, cuz Oxiplegatz is some sort of post black metal, avant power metal, rock opera electronica? Sounds confusing, that's cuz it IS. 1998's Sidereal Journey, the group's last record, is all programmed drums, buzzing riffage, dramatic female vocals, equal parts weird anime soundtrack, Dodheimsgard B-side, and over the top power metal cheese, but all filtered through Oxiplegatz's cracked outsider metal lens, the resulting epic is just geniusly absurd, right down to the band name, which comes from a Donald Duck comic, this sci-fi metal opera is dizzying and epic, totally over the top flitting from spacey ambience, to churning grinding blackened metal crush, to fuzzy girl pop weirdness and back again, with most of the (super brief) tracks some tangled collision of all of the above. Metalheads will likely HATE, but if you like fucked up sonic ridiculousness, albeit expertly constructed, and brilliantly performed, this will definitely hit the spot. And if your taste in metal runs toward the silly and completely baffling, well, this is definitely for you.
Sidereal Journey is paired with 1996's Worlds And Worlds, which while still sci-fi, and epic, is much less demented, a furious blackened buzz drenched power metal, that swirls and soars, progged out and super dense, but still extremely METAL. It is however far from straight up black metal, fear not, there's plenty of synthy goofiness, those female vocals (supposedly his girlfriend, whose computer generated naked body is also featured on the cover) all over the place, bombastic dramatic male crooning too, faux strings, symphonic, orchestral, electronics, even what sounds like electronic accordion, crazy stuff for sure, and goddamn if it doesn't sound as cool and crazy all these years later.
Packaged in a double cassette case, full color J-cards, one tape bright green, the other lavender, and of course, super duper limited!
