Another killer blast of blown out garage-soul punk-blooze from Lamont Thomas, who might be better known as the drummer for psychedelic noise rockers Puffy Areolas, but who on his own has been cranking out release after release of amazing hook heavy noisiness that manages to fuse the wild psych stomp of the Areolas with some impossibly deft lo-fi pop-smithery and some serious soulfulness.
After a brief blast of punked out reverb drenched noise, "All Hail The Deejay" is all seventies swagger, slathered in distortion and FX, a glammy falsetto sung stomp that sounds like it could have been plucked off the last Ty Segall Record, albeit a bit more rough around the edges. "Sit Yo Ass Down" is even better, doused in feedback, with a stuttery, almost funky groove, all wreathed in thick, distorted guitar buzz, and with another falsetto chorus that KILLS. "Thanks For Yesterday" dials back the buzz for something bordering on balladic, but then in swoops "(Do) The Clap" which sounds like an even noiser, sweatier, more chaotic and sweat soaked Oh Sees, the whole thing finishing off with the brief speaker shredding blast of "Buzz Clique", a dense tangle of super distorted backwards noise-psych, that almost sounds like a garage punk version of Teenage Filmstars!!
Includes a download code too!
Latest chunk of noisy, super distorted, soul flecked garage rock from Lamont Thomas, drummer for psychedelic noise rockers Puffy Areolas, who late in life decided he wanted to step out from behind the kit, and make some music on his own. And in a short while, he's racked up an impressive body of work, this latest three song blast included. The A side sounds like some classic movie musical converted into blown out distortion drenched pound and howl, impossibly poppy, with a chorus other bands would kill for, but all buried in layers of buzz and hiss, the distortion CRANKED, but even then it's impossible to disguise how goddamn catchy it is. The B side remains amped up and punked out, with the first track being about as punk as it gets, aggro and heavy and noisy, a short sharp burst that also displays a subtle poppiness, before finishing of with a cover of the (pre-Alice Cooper Band) Spiders' "Don't Blow Your Mind", which infuses the punky garage crunch of the rest of the record with some serious glammy swagger. As always, so goddamn good!!!
Debut release from this mysterious local black metal horde, who have been seemingly operating well under the radar, as the announcement regarding the pending release of this record was the first time we'd heard anything about them, but their sound is definitely right up our alley, depressive and droned out, a mix of raw buzzing primitivism, and blown out almost psychedelic blackened drift, the band slipping easily from old school blasting blackness, to midtempo slow burn majesty, the guitars thick and layered and lush in places, but appropriately buzzy and brittle in others, the whole record underpinned by field recordings, wind in the tress, running water, most effective when laid beneath chiming clean guitars, unfurling a sort of melancholic folkiness, replete with haunting shimmery swells and distant reverbed trills, eventually exploding into some seriously harsh heaviness, a roiling blurry black churn, wreathed in swaths of soaring synth, a strange mix that turns what would otherwise be pure sonic violence into something much more spaced out and melodic.
There are moments of spidery post rock, and meandery clean guitar minimalism, the folk element constantly surfacing throughout, finally finishing off with what we expected to a brief instrumental outro (the way most black metal records finish) but instead, ends up being a brief but blown out blast of furious epic heaviness, that might be the best two minutes of the whole record.
Housed in super nice, silver on matte black sleeves.
If you've been reading this week's New Arrivals list in alphabetical order, you've already come across many interesting items, lots of cool stuff to sate your drone jones, get your indie pop fix, etc., right?? But, you might also want sumthin' that just simply kicks out the jams, in a badass heavy rock n' roll / metal kind of way. Of course you do. Like, the list before last's Danava for instance, or Children Of Doom not long before that. This time 'round, a record we discovered recently and immediately knew we just HAD to order in and review, that's just the thing for all you denim clad longhaired Satan worshipping beer swillers (or at least for your INNER denim clad longhaired Satan worshipping beer swiller, as the case may be).
Mortui Vivos Docent is the debut from Swedish stoner/doom outfit Obrero (and as an aside, we're beginning to wonder if the international community is gonna have to consider placing musical export restrictions on Sweden, as it's unfair to other countries how many amazing bands they produce, though of course we're not complaining!!!).
It offers up eight awesome trax of ripping, rollicking riffage, doomed-out atmospheres, and fists-clenched vox. The singer's ballsy, rough wail is one major component of this band's appeal, he's got a shrill edge that, in combination with the music, makes us think of Trouble (the band) some of the time, maybe Metal Church too. Meanwhile, the riffs are up there with those on the first Witch album, which we think you know we like a lot. So, yeah, Sabbath inspired sonics for sure, also early Judas Priest is probably an influence. To mention some of them Swedish bands who this is at least as cultishly cool as, well, imagine a combo of Graveyard and Grand Magus, perhaps. But with more umlautish umph even than that. Americans Ogre could be another comparison, as would Pharaoh Overlord with their recent Out Of Darkness lp.
This is one of those albums wherein every component moment contributes to the baddassitude of the whole, and will have you throwing the horns the whole time it's on. We're finding it hard to pick the tracks to mention in particular 'cause we're digging 'em ALL, but definitely "Son Of Tutankhamun" is an utter epic rockin' classic, and we're partial to the good time groove and stoner stomp of "Santovit". Reverend Bizarre fans will be happy with the hammering metal of "Charles The Hammer". And how can you not love a song, "Exterminate", that's about Daleks!?!? (And comes to a rather transcendent, musically uplifting conclusion, too).
Basically, one of the best heavy metal bands writing actual rock n' roll songs we're heard in a long while... Damn catchy, weird in a cool geeky way (heck they're into Dr. Who), with plenty of proggy light and shade amidst the out 'n' out headbanging material, of which there's plenty. Probably not for everybody, but what on our list is? If this is something you "get" though, you'll be glad you got it!!
They may be called Obscure, but these Norwegians are far from obscure, featuring a former member of Enslaved and offering up this, their debut long player, which is not black metal, or Nordic metal, or Viking metal, instead it's actually pretty kick ass, super catchy power metal, but not like cheesy Hammerfall sort of modern power metal, which we do like, but more old school classic '70s metal a la Thin Lizzy, heck they even open the record with a Thin Lizzy cover ("Massacre", mislabeled as "Coversensation", which perhaps appears later on the album where the tracklist says "Massacre"... whoops!) which slays, and had us super excited until we realized it was in fact a cover. But the originals here are pretty badass as well. A sort of epic doom flecked power metal with awesome guitar playing, classic riffing mixed with weird tangly leads and awesome guitarmonies, the vocals aren't super amazing but they definitely do the job, at it's weirdest, Obscure remind us a bit of Snowy Shaw's (Mercyful Fate) Notre Dame from a few years back, at it's least weird, there are some Kyuss-y moments, some serious Sabbath moments, a bit of Manowar screaming, and no small amount of NWOBHM worship, specifically Iron Maiden, even some Angel Witch.
The sound is epic, heavy, a bit doomy, a little psychedelic, the songs are super catchy, without ever slipping into cliche, or if they do, the embrace it and make it their own, managing to take tried and true metalisms and supercharging them, and twisting em up a bit into something awesomely headbangable, but still pretty weird nonetheless. Apparently they call it "doomgie" (boogie + doom?), but it pains us to even type that word, so let's stick with this mouthful: heavy groovy psychedelic doom-ed power metal!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
This just might be the perfect stocking stuffer this year for that music nerd in your life. A gorgeous collection of old school style trading cards, each one featuring as the title suggests, an obscure giant of the acoustic guitar, just check out the artists included: Peter Walker, Sandy Bull, James Blackshaw, Harry Taussig, Steffen Basho-Junghans, George Stavis, Robbie Basho, Jack Rose, Glenn Jones, Davy Miller, Richard Crandell, Sean Smith, Peter Lang, William Eaton and more more more. In fact, it more than lives up to its title, as we didn't recognize a whole bunch of these obscure giants, and even some of the ones we did know, we weren't all that familiar with: Sam McGee, Lena Hughes, William Tyler, Nathan Salsburg, Daniel Bachman, Craig Ventresco, T. Damien, Richard Osborn, Scott Witte, Wilburn Burchette, Suni McGrath, and still so many others. The art by Seattle artist Shana Cleveland is gorgeous, and the cards are housed in a nice heavy printed box, and each card has an extensive and detailed history of each artist on the back of the card, along with various recordings and other info, so you can track down recordings by all of these folks. We only wish it had come with a cd featuring tracks by some or all of the artists on the cards, but as it is, it's pretty goddang great, and like we mentioned, the perfect size for that special someone's stocking!
Another warehouse find (which in our case actually means closet find, since our 'warehouse' is in fact, more like a closet, well, it actually IS a closet, anyway...), we discovered a stash of the 2007 full length from black metal horde Obscurus Advocam, whose name might not be all that familiar, but the members of OA have done time in a couple other black metal groups we've raved about in the past, Glorior Belli and Wolfe. And c'mon, they're French, and we have a serious thing for French black metal, and as one might expect, fans of Deathspell Omega would do well to check out OA's swirling darkened black metal progginess, not nearly as next level and head spinning as DSO, OA nonetheless weave sprawling epics rife with tangled riffage, sinister moodiness, mathy intricate arrangements, LOTS of bass, and some killer grim vox, all wound into slow burning blackness, that tends more toward the creep and the midtempo, than the all out blast, but fear not metalheads, some serious buzz and blast is peppered throughout, but it's what's between that makes this stuff so cool, moody and murky, haunting and creepy, melodic and sorrowful, but still seriously and satanically grim. Had we reviewed this back in 2007, this would most definitely have been a contender for black metal record of the year, as it is, if you somehow missed this, now's the time to right that wrong.
Pagan forest dwellers and Kvltists alike, unite, a new Obsequiae album has been brewing in the cauldron and is ready to be drank from the goblet! Like a medieval Marduk or a madrigal Mayhem, Obsequiae capitalizes the METAL in folk metal.
Ostensibly a band since 1998 (then called Autumnal Winds), Obsequiae released their debut Suspended In The Brume Of Eos in 2011, a stunning and powerful debut that left many, like us, wanting more. Finally, enter Aria of Vernal Tombs, a mighty follow up to that record. Obsequiae's Tanner Anderson and Co. mange to combine beautiful, haunting medieval harp tracks with a riff-centric and heavy-yet-melodic black metal assault. On the black metal tracks, Anderson's dueling guitar melodies are the driving force, catchy, melodic, but always heavy.
Aria Of Vernal Tombs (Google tells us "vernal" means of or relating to springtime, fyi... still don't know what a "Brume of Eos" is, though) never feels cheesy or hamfisted in its attempt to incorporate medieval melodies into the songs; rather, these feel like cohesive, melodic pieces that are equal parts beautiful and heavy. Obsequiae is much more interested in making you breathe the medieval air and feel the crumbling stone than playing make-believe at the Ren Faire (no offense to Ren Faire lovers, aQ's own Harry among them). This record will easily slide into our top metal albums of the year chart!
Though we spend a lot of time toiling over our carefully worded, expertly-informed, well-thought out (ahem) reviews, we realize that a lot of folks probably just scan 'em looking for a few keywords that might jump out, and to see whether we are giving something the thumbs up or not (and furthermore, if we seem particularly enthusiastic in doing so, by like, using all-caps or something). So... here's some keywords for you: CELESTIIAL, FOLK-METAL, AWESOME. Working those terms into sentences, results in the following: this blackened but not necessarily black metal (they say "melodic dark metal") band from Minnesota, who started back in the '90s as a demo-only band under the moniker Autumnal Winds, is a duo featuring guitarist/vocalist Blondel de Nesle, aka Tanner Reed Anderson of fellow Bindrune recording artists Celestiial. Suspended In The Brume Of Eros is Obsequiae's debut full-length, and while we don't know what Obsequiae means (help, Heavy Latin blog!) nor are we sure what a "brume" is, let alone just who or what "Eos" might be, we do know we like this. A lot. And we didn't even know they were related to AQ frosty, forest-y funeral doom faves Celestiial when we first heard this and dug it, though we did know it was on Bindrune, almost always a sign of quality pagan metal with a weird or avant garde bent.
We said Obsequiae play folk-metal, that's right, it's real medieval /madrigal sounding for sure, but with the emphasis on METAL, despite an assortment of minstrel-like acoustic interludes. So the melodic, intertwined twin guitars are heavy with fuzz, and their harmonies more twisted than twee. Likewise, the vocals are harsh, and rhythmically the band gallops like true metal ought to, propelled by the other half of the Obsequiae duo, drummer/bassist/guitarist "Neidhardt von Reuental".
In other words, it's something that even those of us a bit burned out on "another grim black metal band" found quite compelling. Lots of (autumnal) atmosphere, lots of actual music, Obsequiae doing justice to both halves of the folk-metal equation, mixing acoustic guitars in with weird, killer riffage and soloing for an album that's epic and interesting and, as we said, AWESOME.
There, 'nuff said?
We should probably stop being surprised when we discover records we dig and groups we love are in fact made by or made up of long time aQuarius customers. It makes sense after all. People who are obsessed with cool weird music are often the same ones who make it. We should also probably stop marvelling about what a small world it is, similar to the above sentiment, it makes sense that people into the same sort of weird shit would gravitate toward each other.
So thus, it makes perfect sense, that The Observatory, who hail from Singapore, count at least one long time aQ mailorder customer as a member, and thus it should also make perfect sense, that The Observatory's eye popping, ultra deluxe hardcover silver inked book packaging was designed by none other than Justin Bartlett, another aQ customer, and the man responsible for the first bad ass installment in our Artist Edition t-shirt series. So now that we're no longer surprised, and all finished marvelling, we can get to the music.
The Observatory are difficult to describe. Their sound is lush, and dark, and mysterious, woozy and softly psychedelic. The core traditional band instruments are augmented by what sounds like a whole mess of other random instruments. The songs sprawl, the seem to ooze and creep and drift. Mark Ribot like angular guitars are draped over a Bohren like dirge, sunshiney almost Beach Boys harmonies are woven into a slowly swirling synthscape, drums are minimal and spare, the songs shift into soft mysterious dreampop, with Theremins, steel string guitars, and hushed crooned vocals, more of those glorious harmonies, before drifting back into something more croonsome, until some crunchy guitars come in, and the song splinter into a dizzying grinding circus gone haywire sort of psychedelic freakout, finally slipping back into something much more tranquil and soft and poppy.
At their core, these guys (and gals) are definitely a pop band, but their tendencies definitely lean toward something much more avant and out. Jangly, shimmery, poppy, and folky for sure, in fact, this is most definitely 'dark folke', but it's informed by much more than just folk music. Dramatic strings sing and soar, ethereal female vocals drift over spidery strum and buzz, strange bits of shortwave interference, reverbed piano plinks, all draped over the band's lush dark folky almost chamber pop, so dreamy and divine.
Did we mention the packaging? WOW. A 7" x 7" black clothbound hardcover book. The front and back printed in metallic silver ink, inside 14 pages of lyrics and Justin Bartlett's gorgeously creepy pen and ink drawings, like some nightmarish children's book, so over the top and deluxe, not sure how they manage to sell it for so cheap, needless to say, grab one quick before they realize they can't and the price goes way up, or more likely, they sell out!!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
You know an artist has special 'cult' standing when not only do their actual albums get reissued but so do their outtakes and rarities. Actually we're still waiting on The Obsessed's album reissues (coming soon we're told on Southern Lord) but the Lord has first blessed us with this enhanced reish of Incarnate, a collection of demos, seven-inch tracks, and so forth from the infamous doom metal (pre-stoner rock) trio The Obsessed. You know, the band led by guitarist/vocalist/recent Arthur 'zine cover star Scott "Wino" Weinrich both before and after he was in Saint Vitus. After The Obsessed folded for the second time, Wino bounced back with Spirit Caravan, and now does time in both the Hidden Hand and Place Of Skulls. But you DO probably know all that or you wouldn't have read this far in this review...
Anyway, what we said about it the original edition released in '99 still holds true: in the still ongoing stoner rock boom/glut, this stands out as fairly essential. They've managed to put together stuff from various eras (1983-1994 or so) and line-ups (some including members of Kyuss and the Melvins, and our friend Guy who's in Acid King now: dig the pictures of him here w/ long hair!) and got it all to sound excellent and flow well, more like an actual album than the odd-n-sods comp that it is. The highlight is perhaps their rulin' cover of Eric Burdon's "Inside Looking Out" (perhaps inspired by the Grand Funk Railroad version). Originally this came out semi-simultaneously with Spirit Caravan's debut, now it follows up Meteor City's 2003 Spirit Caravan compilation The Last Embrace. Oh, we said it was 'enhanced' didn't we? Yep it's got five bonus tracks (four more demos and one live cut) and a mpeg video ("Streetside") not found on the original! So all true Wino fanatics (we know you're out there) now have the opportunity to give their old copies to unenlightened friends and buy this new edition for themselves. Double LP version coming in May...
Scott "Wino" Weinrich. Ok, he's maybe a -wee- bit overrated, but after all these years definitely deserving of his status as stoner metal's number one guitar hero and favorite frontman, a true "lifer", going strong today in not one but two bands, Place Of Skulls and The Hidden Hand. His career stretches back into the '80s, when he fronted SoCal doom legends Saint Vitus for a spell, a job he got on account of his reputation from his original, also now legendary band The Obsessed from Maryland. He then left Vitus to reform The Obsessed, recording this album, Lunar Womb, in 1991 for the German doom label Hellhound, which somehow led to Wino, incredibly enough, winding up on major label with The Obsessed's next album, The Church Within (Columbia, 1994). The post-grunge major label indie rock feeding frenzy of the early nineties somehow swept a lot of surprising signings, and I guess it helped that the harDCcore scene was always singing Wino's praises (in fact, a blurb from Ian MacKaye appears on this reissue), funnily enough considering his tattooed, drug-fiending, dirtbag heavy metal biker persona. Anyway, The Church Within is out of print, and with Hellhound long since defunct as well, so too has Lunar Womb been unavailable. Now Meteor City and 20 Buck Spin (who handle the vinyl) step in to rectify the situation in regards to that album, much like Southern Lord did with Saint Vitus's V (another lost Hellhound release featuring Wino).
Well served by Wino's distinctively gruff, authoritative vox and lead guitar prowess, Lunar Womb is a tuneful, mid-tempo slab of chunky head-nodding heaviness that should have all heshers (and closet-heshers) happily rockin' out. Almost as prescient of QOTSA as it is derivative of Sabbath, this is a post-punk, more-metallic variant on the grunge of its era, with plentiful and catchy riffola, some tricky parts, and a definite downer vibe overall -- though not quite so wasted and psychedelic as was Saint Vitus. Maybe it does make sense that Lunar Womb would lead some LA label suit to think The Obsessed could take it to the next level. CoC did after all.
'Nuff said, really -- if you like any of Wino's current outfits, or were a fan of the several albums he released with his post-Obsessed comeback band Spirit Caravan, and you don't already have this, you'll want it for sure!! (Likewise if you're into Kyuss and/or Goatsnake, which also have familial connections with The Obsessed...)
Oh, and this cd reissue boasts liner notes by Joe Carducci of "Rock And The Pop Narcotic" fame.
Reissue of this stoner/doom classic, Wino's big major label debut (and finale).
Strange but kinda cool department: This is the second album (we missed the first) from this international, intergenerational hybrid kraut/psych/spacerock band, featuring members of Peru's La Ira De Dios, the USA's Dragonwyck, and Germany's Karmic Society and Treacle People. Well, we're fans of rockin' fuzzpunks La Ira De Dios anyway, don't really know the others. Apparently, inspired by residual '60s psychedelic vibrations, these likeminded folks got together to do some jamming, and that's what this is, all improvised, each track edited down from one-take jam sessions! Well, except for the surprise SLAYER cover, they do "Black Magic" from Show No Mercy! (Or, had we been paying attention, maybe not such a surprise, as apparently they also did Metallica's "For Whom The Bell Tolls" on their first album, we'll have to look into that...)
Otherwise, it's all in the realm of spacey stoner rock jamming with lots of fuzz guitar, Hammond organ and Hawkwindy FX, also wailing female vocals dubbed in over top (someone channelling their inner Grace Slick). Not the hippest band in the world, no, but fun and far out. Their unexpected speed metal obsession sure helps heavy it up, keeping this from totally retro tie-dye hippiedom, while at the same time, they manage to make Slayer fit in with their spaced-out sound. Some parts remind us of Circle, some parts remind us of Jex Thoth!
The Occasion set their cauldron of somber psychedelia on the fire to simmer, and the slowly spiralling vapors wafting up into our ears are quite a pleasure. Much of Cannery Hours' beautiful smoldering embers may easily be aligned with the shadowy, expansive likes of Black Heart Procession, Destroyer as well as Godspeed You Black Emperor, and seem to draw ample inspiration from Pink Floyd and perhaps even This Heat. Subdued yet emotive male vocals and contemplative picked guitar lines give way to the fevered piano, crashing cymbals, and swelling waves of guitar distortion.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Two years on from their Three And Seven debut, the two doomladies and one doomlord of the Occultation trio return from their negative plane (one of them is IN the band Negative Plane, actually) to offer up another spooky slab of their dimly-lit darkside rituals, playing again an obscure, ominous style of female-fronted, majestic dirge-doom, lashed to hectic bursts of prog-pounding.
The witchy, gothic vocals dip and soar, while flurries of organ notes send shivers up the spine... Shades of Paul Chain and other esoteric Italian doom, that sort of arcane atmosphere, as if performed by Ides Of Gemini or even Hammers Of Misfortune. Also, Sabbath's "Electric Funeral" seemingly is always echoing in these compositions (along with some melancholic organ runs out of "Hotel California"). 'Tis haunting and HEAVY and sometimes even quite lovely. Quite a cult-sounding hybrid of many things - '70s prog, '80s metal, goth, doom, even a hint of surf at one reverby-moment or two. Light some candles, play it loud, let it really sink in.
Recorded, appropriately, in Salem, Massachusetts, with producer Kurt Ballou (Converge, Beastmilk, many others).
Three And Seven is the debut full length from NYC psychedelic doomlords/doomladies, and Negative Plane offshoot, Occultation. Their sound is a dark and dramatic, almost cinematic sort of witchy metallic psychedelia, the heaviness tempered by a fantastically muddy, murky cavernous production, the heaving swells of downtuned riffage, blurred into smeared swells of minor key shimmer, the drums spare and buried in the mix, barring the occasional burst of chaotic frenzy, lush layered organs wheeze and whir, and the vocals, dueling (or perhaps multitracked) female vox, that wind around each other in creepy occultic harmonies, the arrangements dense and complex and proggy, the sound perfectly channeling the spirit of classic metal, old horror soundtracks, and seventies British acid folk.
The songs are dense tangles of minor key melody, the guitars unfurling spidery melodies, wrapped around haunting woozy almost goth/post punk sounding basslines, a twisted dissonance marks each of these sonic rituals, epic and majestic, like Death SS via King Diamond, covering Comus, all recorded in some subterranean grotto, before some primitive stone plinth, adorned with skulls and sacrifices. Because this falls into the witchy female fronted metal category, inevitably comparisons will be made to the Devil's Blood, Jex Thoth, Blood Ceremony, and while fans of that stuff will undoubtedly dig this, more apt comparisons might be Ides Of Gemini or Menace Ruine, as Occultation, while still metal, manages to exist in some haunting sonic nether region, seemingly much more beholden to non-metal influences, fans of Sabbath Assembly might dig this too, the same sort of satanic spiritual vibe, but obviously WAY heavier, and much more bleary and blackened.
Gorgeous, twisted, heavy, haunting stuff.
This band from Portland, Maine is the latest to lumber into the realm of the uber-heavy. Now, don't confuse 'em with the band called THE Ocean, from Germany, whose uber-heavy Fluxion album we listed not too long ago. Although you certainly could confuse them, as uber-heaviness has its hallmarks. Indeed, this line from our review of The Ocean's cd actually describes this Ocean quite well, as well: "The basic sound will be familiar for sure, massive guitars, pounding drums, propulsive, relentless riffing, blissed out, post rock parts that build and build and build into huge squalls of gargantuan guitarnoise, throbbing and pulsing, minor key and epic." Yep, another one of those bands, here we go again. Just how much single-riff repetition and down-tuned sludge trudge can we take? Quite a lot, really! Ocean's Here Where Nothing Grows debut consists of three long songs, each one an ultra-slow doomful dirge ridden with gutturally growled vocal angst. Yet, there's a sorta melodic post rock thread running through this, for a sound somewhere betwixt Corrupted and Isis. You could file this alongside the likes of Buried At Sea, Mare, Indian, Pelican, Tides, Yob and Conifer, too. If you're a fan of all that sort of stuff you'll like this. It's nothing you haven't heard before but it's exactly what you like. Extreme sludge, but droning and artful enough to catch the ears of a non-metal label like Important... and on the more soothing side of the sludge spectrum, not so nasty and harrowing as something like Khanate, Bunkur or Graves At Sea. We'll admit that this took a little while to seep in, but as the waves of this Ocean wash over you, you'll happily sink beneath its depths (sorry, it's hard to avoid such aquatic metaphors with these guys, as you'll see the cover sticker blurb writer also found).
When talking about this band Ocean, there's always an obvious temptation to liken their music to giant waves crashing upon the shore, which we shall indeed succumb to here. 'Cause of their name, which they share with another heavy band, The Ocean from Germany (this Ocean is the one from the coastal city of Portland, Maine) and 'cause of their massive, relentlessly cycling sound. Large rocks, over the aeons, would easily be turned to tiny grains of sand, by the action of Ocean. Even within the limit of the running time of a compact disc, Ocean surely hints at such power. Over the course of these two loooooong tracks here (35:50 and 23:04), Ocean's repetitive riffs and percussive detonations surge and crest, washing in and out with regularity and ponderous force, slowwwww and steady, building up almost imperceptibly. Beautiful to our ears, or to those of anyone else equally as enamored by crushing, moody, majestic sludge-metal!
The anguished vocals, guttural gasps, oftimes like gasses escaping from a subterranean crypt, or (a more appropriate analogy) the final cries of drowning men from a sinking ship intermingled with the bellowings of some leviathan of the depths, put us in mind of the ultra-doooom of Khanate, as do the varied levels of carefully sculpted feedback and distortion. There is some guest singing (in Japanese, we believe) from Yoshiko Ohara of fellow doombringers Bloody Panda on the first track, but even her cleanly-sung lamentation eventually gives way to "vokill" style throat-abuse.
During much of her turn at the mic, as well as at other junctures on this disc, (the) Ocean calms and quiets, yet the listener remains adrift at sea. Doomed to drown, sinking down into into the stillness of the deeps, an undersea abyss where of course the darkness and pressure make this even heavier! Not so good for actual shipwreck victims, but metaphorically excellent for those of us into this sort of music - a combination of dirgey funereal doom and loud/soft post rock prettiness, truly elegant -and- extreme. If you liked Ocean's earlier effort for Important (Here Where Nothing Grows), and/or the likes of Bloody Panda, Conifer, Lesbian, Khanate, Thou, Pelican, etc., this is probably for you! And we must also mention the packaging; a white digipack, with text and engraving-style artwork in metallic silver ink. Very classy-looking.
Garage punk from Denmark
sounds like a mix of early off-kilter Talking Heads and the ferociousness of the Cramps. Limited supply!
This is THE Ocean, not to be confused with Portland, Maine's Ocean, just Ocean. While Ocean is pretty darn heavy, The Ocean out heavy them in a way that seems impossible. THE Ocean is a German eight piece (that's right, EIGHT piece) now calling themselves the Ocean Collective. Lots of guitars, multiple vocalists, upping the heaviness quotient exponentially. The world, or at least our little underground rock corner of it, has gone nuts for this new metal / post rock hybrid, so much so that there's even a documentary in the works (which, if the footage makes the final cut, will feature Andee and Allan opining on all things metal and post rock). And we have to say we're digging it all too, Isis, Pelican, Cult Of Luna, Conifer, Minsk, each band doing their own version of that hybrid, adding their own unique particulars.... We seem to lean a bit toward the more metallic end of the spectrum (big surprise there) and the Ocean are right there at the extreme metal end, more a full on crushing metal band, with a bit of post rock weirdness mixed in insted of the other way around. This is massive pummeling extreme metallic brutality. The Ocean's riffs are huge, we mean HUGE, swirling and snarling, downtuned and so so so heavy. Pounding near industrial drums, and a phalanx of vocalists including Coalesce's Sean Ingram, mean this is a fucking shitstorm, in the best possible way. Everything we loved about their last record, Fluxion, is here, but expanded, heavier parts are heavier, weird parts are weirder (including some truly haunting German film music interspersed here and there). The basic formula is the same, massive crushing teutonic sludge / death metal, with all manner of post rockisms tossed in, blissy ambient interludes, grooved out rhythmic breakdowns, there are definitely hints of Isis, Neurosis, Dimmu Borgir, even Rammstein, as well as nods to more dramatic outrock outifts like Godspeed and Mogwai. But Aeolian is just so much more complicated and multilayered, convoluted and complex, dizzyingly so. One of the coolest, weirdest, heaviest metal records so far this year for sure.
With everyone freaking out about Isis, Pelican, Neurosis, Cult Of Luna, and all things massively and epically metal, all churning riffs and pounding majesty, it's hard to believe that most people have never heard, or even heard of German outfit The Ocean. Because in some ways, hard as it may seem to believe, they've almost managed to sonically outdo their obvious influences. The basic sound will be familiar for sure, massive guitars, pounding drums, propulsive, relentless riffing, blissed out, post rock parts that build and build and build into huge squalls of gargantuan guitarnoise, throbbing and pulsing, minor key and epic. But, in the case of The Ocean, they manage to add all sort of extra weirdness and not-so-subtle nuance than really makes Fluxion stand out. The presence of a full on string section (as well as some clarinets and other decidedly non rock instruments) is the first thing, which obviously lends the whole thing a much more stately, mournful feel, making them sound at times like a heavy metal Godspeed You Black Emperor. There's also a whole bunch of melodic flourishes scattered throughout, just here and there, that make what could be standard metal riffs become something a little bit out of the ordinary. The order of the day though is definitely metallic pummel, growled gutteral vocals over ultra thick Teutonic riffs, their German-ness shines through a bit in those instances, reminding us a bit of Rammstein, and when the keyboards kick in, there's definitely some Dimmu Borgir going on. And there is definitely a black metal vibe throughout, although it's bent and twisted to fit into The Ocean's moody metal framework. But the sound is so much more expansive and epic than most black metal, or most metal in general, especially when the guitars bliss out a bit, and strings are soaring, guitars picking out arpeggiated minor key melodies, everything eventually erupting into full on metallic bombast. And even in the midst of TOTAL METAL, the melodies are still moody and intense, the riffing is weird and the overal vibe is super dramatic and ultra intense. Fans of the 'new mood metal', a la Pelican, Isis, Cult Of Luna, as well as fans of the new metallic post rock (Conifer, Tides, Mouth Of The Architect, etc.) will be totally blown away!
Some of the most amazing packaging we've seen, a multi panel digipak, depicting a huge shcool of fish, with the band name and random spatters printed in a glossy varnish. The gatefold is a huge two panel spread of dead gutted fish, and inside all the liner notes and lyrics are printed glossy black on matte black. Wow!
Both amazing releases from Germany's The Ocean, last year's Fluxion, and the brand new Aeolian, now available on vinyl, a super limited triple lp set which includes each one of the three lps in a different color, packaged in a gorgeous silver inked 8mm-spine gatefold jacket, with a full color fold-out poster. Limited to 472 copies, already out of print, we have about 30 so act fast.
Here's what we think about Aeolian:
This is THE Ocean, not to be confused with Portland, Maine's Ocean, just Ocean. While Ocean is pretty darn heavy, The Ocean out heavy them in a way that seems impossible. THE Ocean is a German eight piece (that's right, EIGHT piece) now calling themselves the Ocean Collective. Lots of guitars, multiple vocalists, upping the heaviness quotient exponentially. The world, or at least our little underground rock corner of it, has gone nuts for this new metal / post rock hybrid, so much so that there's even a documentary in the works (featuring Andee and Allan opining on all things metal and post rock). And we have to say we're digging it all too, Isis, Pelican, Cult Of Luna, Conifer, Minsk, each band doing their own version of that hybrid, adding their own unique particulars.... We seem to lean a bit toward the more metallic end of the spectrum (big surprise there) and the Ocean are right there at the extreme metal end, more a full on crushing metal band, with a bit of post rock weirdness mixed in insted of the other way around. This is massive pummeling extreme metallic brutality. The Ocean's riffs are huge, we mean HUGE, swirling and snarling, downtuned and so so so heavy. Pounding near industrial drums, and a phalanx of vocalists including Coalesce's Sean Ingram, mean this is a fucking shitstorm, in the best possible way. Everything we loved about their last record, Fluxion is here, but expanded, heavier parts are heavier, weird parts are weirder (including some truly haunting German film music interspersed here and there). The basic formula is the same, massive crushing teutonic sludge / death metal, with all manner of post rockisms tossed in, blissy ambient interludes, grooved out rhythmic breakdowns, there are definitely hints of Isis, Neurosis, Dimmu Borgir, even Rammstein, as well as nods to more dramatic outrock outifts like Godspeed and Mogwai. But Aeolian is just so much more complicated and multilayered, convoluted and complex, dizzyingly so. One of the coolest, weirdest, heaviest metal records so far this year for sure.
And here's what we had to say about Fluxion:
With everyone freaking out about Isis, Pelican, Neurosis, Cult Of Luna, and all things massively and epically metal, all churning riffs and pounding majesty, it's hard to believe that most people have never heard, or even heard of German outfit The Ocean. Because in some ways, hard as it may seem to believe, they've almost managed to sonically outdo their obvious influences. The basic sound will be familiar for sure, massive guitars, pounding drums, propulsive, relentless riffing, blissed out, post rock parts that build and build and build into huge squalls of gargantuan guitarnoise, throbbing and pulsing, minor key and epic. But, in the case of The Ocean, they manage to add all sort of extra weirdness and not-so-subtle nuance than really makes Fluxion stand out. The presence of a full on string section (as well as some clarinets and other decidedly non rock instruments) is the first thing, which obviously lends the whole thing a much more stately, mournful feel, making them sound at times like a heavy metal Godspeed You Black Emperor. There's also a whole bunch of melodic flourishes scattered throughout, just here and there, that make what could be standard metal riffs become something a little bit out of the ordinary. The order of the day though is definitely metallic pummel, growled gutteral vocals over ultra thick Teutonic riffs, their German-ness shines through a bit in those instances, reminding us a bit of Rammstein, and when the keyboards kick in, there's definitely some Dimmu Borgir going on. And there is definitely a black metal vibe throughout, although it's bent and twisted to fit into The Ocean's moody metal framework. But the sound is so much more expansive and epic than most black metal, or most metal in general, especially when the guitars bliss out a bit, and strings are soaring, guitars picking out arpeggiated minor key melodies, everything eventually erupting into full on metallic bombast. And even in the midst of TOTAL METAL, the melodies are still moody and intense, the riffing is weird and the overal vibe is super dramatic and ultra intense. Fans of the 'new mood metal', a la Pelican, Isis, Cult Of Luna, as well as fans of the new metallic post rock (Conifer, Tides, Mouth Of The Architect, etc.) will be totally blown away!
Germany's THE Ocean, not to be confused with Ocean from the US, have always been a pretty impressive proposition, their soaring epic post Godspeed Neur-Isis style metallic grind, their phalanx of guitarists, their triple vocal attack, the fact that they're a sort of musical commune, but more importantly, the sound they make is MASSIVE, thick and churning and so so so so HEAVY. It boggles the mind how a band can sound this heavy, on record even, we fear for the brave souls that subject themselves to this sort of crushing brutality live.
A lot has changed in The Ocean camp since 2006's Aeolian. Where that record was moody and nuanced, majestic and cinematic, Precambrian is much more immediate, more furious and intense, the guitars downtuned and crunchy, even heavier than before, the vocals a metal howl, bordering on hardcore bark. The drums swinging wildly from monstrous pound to lightning fast blast beats. And the compositions, holy shit! Mathy and complex and convoluted, Much grindier than before, relentless and maniacal. But wait! That's only the first half of Precambrian. Ultra high concept, separated into two discs (or three lps), the first disc, if we're going by the cd (nicely designed as a 3" cd embedded in a 5" plastic disc) is short and sharp and fast and furious and is the first movement. But the second disc (the third and fourth lp) is much more of the Ocean we're used to. Beginning with some abstract clean guitar shimmering in an expanse of distant drones and mournful melodies, quickly shifting into some mathy post rock, all noodly melodies and jagged harmonies, some seriously dark riffing, even some clean vocals, piano, strings, this is epic shit, wound around gnarled bursts of furious intensity. The record is super strange, shifting from almost gypsy sounding folk, with moaning fiddles, and chime like melodies, to dens chunks of Neurosis style sludge, from expansive shoegaze-y bliss outs to full on Eyehategod howl and chug, tripped out almost-jazz to straight up chamber music, and back to punishing ultra heaviness.
Makes no sense to us that The Ocean guys are not as huge as Isis or Pelican or Neurosis. And if you dig any of those bands you owe it to yourself to get into these guys. The cd comes in a double jewel case, one normal 5"s disc, one 3" disc in a 5" plastic disc, with multiple booklets, packed with lyrics and woodcut illustrations. Wow.
But if any record was one for the vinyl nerds it's THIS ONE. So over the top. A triple lp, gatefold, the whole thing black on black, with silver and white ink, spot varnish flourishes, diecut front and back with amoeboid shapes so the inner sleeves are visible, metallic ink on matte black inserts feature lyrics and illustrations, each lp a different color, orange, dark swirled red and swirled grey. LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES. Holy shit!!! It weighs a ton, and is so beautiful and damn if it wouldn't be worth buying just for the packaging. Thankfully the record is definitely worthy of the packaging. WAY recommended. ESPECIALLY the limited vinyl!
Super limited split between these two heavyweights. In this corner, Burst, with their Meshuggah-like stop start riffing, super precise and machinelike, downtuned guitar chugs like pipes to the side of the head, all getting more and more tangled until it's a dizzying metallic swirl. There's also some weird warped melodies, the guitars and vocals doing something bizarre together, making it sound like the record is warped or something. Cool. And in the other corner, Germany's Ocean, not to be confused with THE Ocean, a massive metallic collective, who tone back the metal just a bit this time around and explore some post rock weirdness. Serene stretches of sweet blissed out prettiness, finger picked guitars and angelic female vocals, before a monstrous sledgehammer groove kicks in, all HUGE riff and harsh demonic vocals. Killer!
Packaged in a gorgeous fold out sleeve designed by Seldon Hunt and pressed on blue vinyl. Super limited and we only got a few.
Oceans Of Silver And Blood is an awesomely unexpected collaboration between Joachim Nordwall and Mark Wastell. The Swedish half (i.e. Nordwall) is one of the members of The Skull Defekts and the Alvars Orchestra; he also runs the exceptional label Ideal Recordings. The Englishman (Wastell) is a preeminent improviser of longform tones and disgorged acoustic drones; and he runs the highly impressive Sound 323 shop / label out of London. With Nordwall on a modular synth and Wastell on his 32" gong (I guess it's technically a tam-tam), the two broadcast sheets of heavy, heavy deep-wave minimalism. At first, Nordwall's synth produces an ominous throb of dark oscillating electrical pulses, matched with thrumbing acoustic drones from that massive gong of Wastell. Their trajectory glides into a hushed din echoing with Wastell's slow and rhythmic chiming of his gong, but gradually they couple the paranoiac sound design of analogue synthesis with the reflective, yet dark shimmer of the gong. When Wastell drops what seems to be a small motor onto the surface of his gong, the darkened drone explodes with an metallic squeal. Imagine the Jean-Francois Laporte vibration studies of what we thought to be a Zamboni remixed by Deathprod. Great stuff and limited to 200 copies!
The sticker on the shrink-wrap for this Max Ochs cd says it all: Cousin of Phil Ochs. Poet. Schoolmate of John Fahey and Robbie Basho. Friend of Mississippi John Hurt and Skip James. Social Activist. Takoma and Fonotone Guitarist. Composer of "Imaginational Anthem". That last one seems to bear the most weight as it exemplifies Ochs influence on the Tompkins Square label as they have named three volumes of solo guitar anthologies after his song. But he is also a kind of poster boy for the label that has spent much of the last few years digging through the cracks of the solo guitar genre to find those who should have been more renowned. Hopefully this collection, most of it newly recorded, will shine a brighter light on this semi-obscure figure. Inspired by deep eastern ragas and dense open blues forms, Ochs was more of a writer and performer than a studio musician, so he doesn't have as deep a discography as his contemporaries, John Fahey and Robbie Basho. But the recordings here are stellar and on a par with the best of the genre. There are also a few examples of his poetry, including one about his cousin, folksinger Phil Ochs, who succumbed to drugs and suicide way too young, adding a tinge of heartbreak to this amazing collection.
Winsome pop melodies that gently caress the ear, relaxed and lovely--WHOOPS. N-n-n-n-nnoo, wrong review. Anybody familiar with insectoid, techy guitar playing of Mick Barr (of Ocrilim, Orthrelm, Octis, and Crom Tech fame) knows that we had to be pulling your collective leg with the beginning of this paragraph. Not a chance in heck that Ocrilim's latest release, on Hydra Head, would be anything less than a completely nerve-wracking, possibly aggravating, virtuoso six string mindfuck. And is it ever. Unique as well, 'cause nothin' else sounds quite like this. It's insane ear candy for those of us who like the concept (put forth in a previous Mick Barr review on the AQ site) of Ygnwie playing Metal Machine Music!
Divvyed up into seven parts, the all-instrumental Annwn is a tour-de-force of repetitive yet complex high-end trill, incorporating spiralling sixteenth note fretboard frenzies that burrow into your skull like a trepanist's drill. These trance-inducing pieces are all long ones, upwards of ten minutes or more, most of 'em, and take that time to build into truly grandiose symphonics, that (if the listener can, um, hear the forest for the trees) are indeed melodic, if not poppy. Never before has anything so trebly also sounded so majestic! Barr's swarming sounds somehow hint at John Williams' Star Wars/Death Star theme music... and very much makes us think, Black Metal. It's not, but comes pretty close indeed. And in fact, if this WAS a black metal band, we'd be all, "best/most fucked black metal of the year so far." Albeit one that's all-guitar (consisting entirely of the notes, noise, and drone that Barr can call forth from his mystic, multitracked axe), no vocals or drums or drum machine or nothin'.... and owes as much to no-wave and minimalism and 20th c. classical.
Latest sprawling collection of next level avant guitar shreddery from Mr. Mick Barr, he of black metal horde Krallice, spazzed out angular mathcore duo Crom-Tech, his sometime drum machine driven solo project Octis, and of course our beloved Ocrilim, another solo vehicle for multi tracked solo guitar, and whose sound is positioned somewhere between maddeningly repetitive Reichian/Riley-ian experimental guitarscapery, and black metal riffery sans everything but the guitar, which ultimately amounts to almost the same thing, soaring, epic, frenzied, tangled guitar insanity. And as much as we love all of Barr's various projects, we find ourselves returning to Ocrilim the most, and while, as we've mentioned in other reviews, most folks find much of Barr's output difficult, bordering on unlistenable, Ocrilim is fantastically mesmerizing, hypnotically rhythmic, lushly textured, intensely frantic, but somehow weirdly listenable, so much so that we find ourselves constantly pushing repeat, even though the majority of these songs are 20-30 minutes long. It's so easy to get lost in Barr's dense dizzying guitarscapes, and the tracks here function both as background music, a swirling psychedelic blur, that bleeds into a buzzing backdrop to whatever you're doing, and as rich fodder for active listening, an impossible intricate collection of modern maximalism composition, one that pushes the listener's limits in terms of sonic endurance, but also in an understanding of the music's varied complexities. The fact that a frantic sprawl of rapid fire notes can blossom into a soaring swirl of black metal style buzz and vice versa only makes it that much cooler, and perhaps even demonstrates the innate avant elements in black metal. A sequel of sorts to the first Annwn release, which came out on Hydra Head, these tracks were recorded back in 2007, and have not been released until now.
Barr put this out on his own label, and of course the cover features Barr's distinctive sci-fi line-drawing art, and as you might imagine, there aren't too many of these, it's LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!!!
Ol' Crazy Fingers (not really what they call him) Mick Barr is baaack. He of Orthrelm, Octis, Crom Tech, etcetera fame, a true fretboard wizard for the punkish underground avant-core set. If Lightning Bolt were Metallica, Mick Barr'd be Yngwie. Or something like that... y'know, it's hard to make a lot of sense when your brain is being subjected to the bumblebee chamber metal sounds of Ocrilm, so cut us a break. This latest Mick Barr masterpiece is a solo project, all three of its overdubbed Gibson SG guitar tracks laid down by Mick hisself in a maddening density of notes and harmonies, droning sheets and shards of sound. This is massive, and maniacal. Anoint is a seven-part composition for excited strings, a one-man Glenn Branca-esque guitar symphony done shred style. A beautiful, beautiful thing... though you can imagine it being recorded, and listened to, in the confines of a padded cell!
Any one familiar with Mick Barr, most likely knows all about his dense, insane shredding axework and super obtuse metalisms in groups like Crom-Tech, Orthrelm, Octis, Krallice and of course Ocrilim. This super deluxe, super limited boxset collects three out of print cd-r's, and presents them on vinyl, and all three taken as a single body of work might just comprise the most listenable stuff we've ever heard from Barr.
Annothrith Hymns is the prettiest of the bunch, a collection of short form solo guitarscapes, ostensibly black metal, but just the guitars, loosed from any griminty and instead allowed to soar majestically, layered and lush and lyrical, the sounds pulse and undulating, the tremolo picked riffs blurred into sweet soaring ur-drone epicness. Somehow buzzy and metal but still ethereal and mesmerizingly dreamy, even the Xasthur cover is transformed into something more crystalline and lovely.
Ixoltion immediately sounds like some epic, Norwegian style black metal, until you realize, that once again, it's just guitar, and the sound is not so much buzzy, so much as again, like the first lp, soaring and majestic, single riffs expanded to fill up a whole side, sprawling riffscapes that manage to remain black metal, while becoming something completely other, some sort of mesmerizing, looped, minimal blackened riffdronebuzz bliss out. Heavy sure, maybe, but more hypnotic and trancelike.
Finally, Sacreth, which complete the trilogy, and in some weird way, sounds like the first two combined, this is actual black metal, blasting and buzzing, but still minimal, the programmed beats proggy and intricate, matching the unlikely riffing, super hypnotic, the arrangements quite strange as well, lots of stop/starts, super mathy and complex, but still remaining epic and majestic, and weirdest of all, seriously melodic and poppy. It's almost like the three records are a slow build to Sacreth's black metal, but each part functioning fantastically on its own. So good. And even those of you who might have been put off in the past by Barr's gnarled noisy metallic tangle, this might surprise you as much as it did us.
LIMITED TO 200 COPIES. Hand screened, hand glued silkscreened sleeves in a silk screened cardboard box, the records pressed on 180 gram vinyl, with a silkscreened insert, handnumbered.
Record number two from SF scene kingpin John Dwyer's (Coach Whips, Zeigenbock Kopf, Hospitals, ex-Pink And Brown, ex-Burmese etc.) solo bedroom project OCS. The first OCS record released on tUMULt a couple years back (and still available!) was a big ol' double disc collection split right down the middle, one disc of sweet acoustic musings, and one disc of ear splitting noisy chaos. Well, for record number two Dwyer's abrasive Mr. Hyde is tucked safely away, and we are presented with his sweeter, gentler Dr. Jeckyll. 2 is a ramshackle collection of stumbling, sloppy Appalachia, Sentridoh-ish introspective mumbling jangle, and rickety 4-track folk. Dreamy and sleepy, rambling and sun dappled. Tape hiss, and amplifier buzz, snippets of found sound, and buried-in-the-mix sing-songy vocals augment ragged meandering ragas, droning acoustic dirges, and all manner of indie-rock/bedroom-folk detritus.
Ah, the sweeter side of John Dwyer. It's always been a struggle for Dwyer, between his sweat soaked spazz rock, club smashing, instrument battering side (Landed, Pink And Brown, Coachwhips) and his lonely boy, mix tape, bedroom, acoustic and sensitive side (OCS). Well it appears, that for the time being at least, with the end of the Coachwhips, OCS is Dwyer's main focus. Dr. Jeckel has regained control and banished Mr Hyde to wait patiently in the dakness....
Like the first OCS record, released on Andee's tUMULt label, this is a massive, beuatifully packaged double disc collection of beautifully ramshackle, intimate and home recorded lo-fi indie bedroom folk. However, unlike the tUMULt release, where disc two was a clattery, crunchy, crashing NOISE record, both discs here are chock full of simple strummed guitars, echoey percussiony, big empty room rhythmic clatter, distant distorted melancholy melodies, haunting reverby electric guitar, quavery falsetto vocals, drowsily affected jangle shuffling snare drums and hazy atmospheres....all occasionally peppered with swooping stuttering psych rock space effects, chirping birds, and creaking rattling soundmakers of all kinds. For fans of Sentridoh, Shrimper and all things 4-track, lo-fi, jangley, shuffley and strummy! The lp is is the OCS '3' record only, you gotta buy the double cd to get both '3' and '4'!
Ah, the sweeter side of John Dwyer. It's always been a struggle for Dwyer, between his sweat soaked spazz rock, club smashing, instrument battering side (Landed, Pink And Brown, Coachwhips) and his lonely boy, mix tape, bedroom, acoustic and sensitive side (OCS). Well it appears, that for the time being at least, with the end of the Coachwhips, OCS is Dwyer's main focus. Dr. Jeckel has regained control and banished Mr Hyde to wait patiently in the dakness....
Like the first OCS record, released on Andee's tUMULt label, this is a massive, beuatifully packaged double disc collection of beautifully ramshackle, intimate and home recorded lo-fi indie bedroom folk. However, unlike the tUMULt release, where disc two was a clattery, crunchy, crashing NOISE record, both discs here are chock full of simple strummed guitars, echoey percussiony, big empty room rhythmic clatter, distant distorted melancholy melodies, haunting reverby electric guitar, quavery falsetto vocals, drowsily affected jangle shuffling snare drums and hazy atmospheres....all occasionally peppered with swooping stuttering psych rock space effects, chirping birds, and creaking rattling soundmakers of all kinds. For fans of Sentridoh, Shrimper and all things 4-track, lo-fi, jangley, shuffley and strummy!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
This long out of print lp (originally released on vinyl via Yik Yak, then reissued on cd by Narnack) is finally available again on wax. 3 is one of the last of the early OCS records, before the OCS became Thee Oh Sees, and this one man bedroom project became a proper band, here's our original (slightly altered) review from WAY back in 2005, long before most of the rest of the world had gone crazy for Thee Oh Sees...
Ah, the sweeter side of John Dwyer. It's always been a struggle for Dwyer, between his sweat soaked spazz rock, club smashing, instrument battering side (Landed, Pink And Brown, Coachwhips, etc.) and his lonely boy, mix tape, bedroom, acoustic and sensitive side (OCS). Well by the time 3 was originally released, Dwyer's garage rock combo the Coachwhips had called it quits, making OCS Dwyer's main focus and setting the stage for the transition from OCS to Oh Sees. Dr. Jeckel has regained control and banished Mr Hyde to wait patiently in the background....
Like the first OCS record, released on Andee's tUMULt label (And still available!), this is a fantastic collection of beautifully ramshackle, intimate and home recorded lo-fi indie bedroom folk. However, unlike the tUMULt release, which included a second disc that was a clattery, crunchy, crashing NOISE record, the sound here steers clear of that sort of noisiness, and is chock full of simple strummed guitars, echoey percussiony, big empty room rhythmic clatter, distant distorted melancholy melodies, haunting reverby electric guitar, quavery falsetto vocals, drowsily affected jangle shuffling snare drums and hazy atmospheres... all occasionally peppered with swooping stuttering psych rock space effects, chirping birds, and creaking rattling soundmakers of all kinds. For fans of Sentridoh, Shrimper and all things 4-track, lo-fi, jangly, shuffley and strummy! Fans of Thee Oh Sees who missed out on the early years, would do well to check this out, and see where it all started...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Who would have thought that the man behind the club destroying thud rock of now defunct Pink And Brown, the sweaty, hyper chaotic garage stomp of the also now defunt Coachwhips, the minimal metallic crush of the long buried Dig That Body Up It's Alive and the no longer with us hardcore faux-homo-house of Zeigenbock Kopf actually had a soft and sensitive acoustic-y side?? Well, he does, or did, and chose to drop all the above mentioned musical endeavors to focus all of his musical energy on the mysteriously monickered OCS (which would later eventually transform into the fuzzier garage poppier Thee Oh Sees!)
The ubiquitous John Dwyer, for it is he, offers up two discs of home recorded madness, culled from random tapes/performances from way back when, and damn if this isn't an unexpected surprise. Vascillating wildy between introspective, spaced out downer folk and gritty, hissing free noise crunch, OCS is a massive and unpredicatable ride through one man's damaged musical psyche.
Disc One, 34 Reasons Why Life Goes On Without You, or the "acoustic disc" as we like to call it, is made up mostly of solo guitar, recorded in random locations around San Francisco, so the gentle strumming and dexterous fingerpicking is often barely obscuring passing cars, slamming doors, hollered instructions to other players, and noisy housemates, adding another sonic layer to the already thick brew. Think: a seriously fucked up Fahey, armed with a four track, a casio, and an old beat up guitar. Think: an old Folkways 45 being played on a Fisher Price turntable and run through a bank of cheap effects. Gorgeous and shambolic, meandering and lovely, dark and unpredictable. The acoustic passages are constantly doing battle with an array of sonic intrusions, random snippets of found sound, bursts of angry buzz, tape drop out, random ambient happenings, malfunctioning casios, and distorted crooning. Mysteriously compelling.
Disc two, 18 Reasons To Love Your Hater To Death, or the "noise disc" as we like to call it, is a much more challenging affair, channelling the spirts of Borbetamagus, Skullflower, Albert Ayler, Throbbing Gristle and 100 years of NOISE into a shifting sonic noisescape of harsh squealing feedback, gorgeously gauzy and shimmery drones, ear piercing sine waves, distorted low end rumbles, huge washes of effected guitars, rhythmic pulses, darkly muted ambience, subtle barely-there melodies, inhuman vocalisations, massive Merzbow-ian walls of pummel, hyper minimal music concrete, alien lullabies and dreamy stretches of stygian gloom punctuated by bursts of hiss and hum. Intensely beautiful and challenging.
Ah, the many moods of John Dwyer, stepping outside the realm of costume rock and drunken sweaty swagger to lay bare a sensitive, if still sometimes quite noisy, soul.
add to cart [/images/addtocart.gif]/af4105.html Handsomely packaged in a hand linocut printed jockstrap cover, OCS vs Caroliner is probably not what you would imagine. This isn't a remix collaboration between John Dwyer and Grux, but a fight (recorded surreptitiously by another Aquarius customer on their minidisc recorder) between the two battling over flyer space on the event board.
Ocsid is a performative collective between Swedish residents C.M. von Hausswolff, Jean-Louis Huhta, and Graham Lewis (from Wire -- no, he's not Swedish, but he does live there, hence the resident qualification). Anyway, this recording is the first 75 minutes from a performance recorded late 1999 in Bavaria. The beginning of the album starts with gritty deep drones that sound like they were culled from various air ducts, water pipes, or furnaces, sounding very much like Phauss -- the early, underappreciated outfit for von Hausswolff. "Opening Sweep" moves through some misfired CD players before getting to a collage of Mika Vainio, SND, and what sounds like excerpts from Raymond Scott's "Manhattan Research Inc."
