A shiny new quartet is here in SF delivering buoyant, jangly guitar pop that initally seems quite straightforward. But wait! Plan To Pink are gonna keep you on your toes with their fair share of unexpected twists and turns in both tempo and style. They move confidently from rollicking feisty punk pop to almost-lullaby mellowness often within the span of one tune. Tandem singers Andria Alefhi and Jaime Borschuk keep right in pace, shifting their vocal delivery (often quite drastically) with grace and ease. Their vocals alternately bring to mind Throwing Muses and Helium. Add some xylophone, viola and a dash of cornet and clarinet for good measure. Voila! What a fine introduction! With production help from Peter Conheim (of Monopause, Negativland).
Plan To Pink have made leaps and bounds in polishin' up and fleshin' out their already glowing indie pop sounds. This is the follow-up to 2002's perky punchy Debutante's Ball. Press Your Luck eases back on the feist of its predecessor in favor of the pretty with the sweetest results. The eleven sunshiney swoonsome tunes would make an ideal soundtrack for a day at the beach. Definitely for fans of Dressy Bessy, Tiger Trap and Aisler's Set, but maybe also the Rob Crow / Heavy Vegetable camp too (particularly on the final song "Hazard Lights"). Note: the two songs from their previous Spring Project / Lemon Fresh 7" make a reappearance here.
A light, dreamy and all too short record from these Bay Area honey-pie popsters. Me thinks these two songs -- "The Spring Project" and "Lemon Fresh" -- might tickle the fancy of pretty pop fans even more than the quartet's fine Debutante Ball cd from late last year! Super soft and sweet.
We've been going through a bit of a grunge revival around here. Andee's been listening to a lot of Tad (anyone who has one of those God's Balls / Salt Lick 2 on 1 cds that they would be willing to part with will be handsomely rewarded). We've dug up our old Skin Yard records, been spreading the word about how great Gruntruck were. It's been pretty fun. One of the bands we've been listening to again is Paw. Not sure if you remember. They were sort of like Pearl Jam but with heavier guitars and a much more distinct twang. Sort of Southern grunge. The band wore jeans and big shitkicker boots and cowboy hats. And their singer sounded like Danzig. Hell, their big hit was even a song about the singer's dog!! What the hell does all that have to do with the new record from Planes Mistaken For Stars? Well, all we could think when we were listening to Mercy was that they sounded like a heavy metal Paw. Which is awesome. A killer mix of grungy Southern rock and chaotic metalcore freakout. What could be better? Plus PMFS all have big ol' beards and glasses and torn up t-shirts and jeans and boots and -probably- wear cowboy hats too!
But fuck it, even if you have no idea who Paw was, or don't care about all the amazing grunge you might have missed out on, this is one killer slab of super heavy, super groovy, twangy hooky metal. Weirdly minor key melodies, wrapped in countrified riffing, but all supercharged and blown out, vocals that that go from throat shredding howl to country croon, even some lap steel buried in there (unless we just -wanted- to hear lap steel), groovy rhythms, killer drumming, and super catchy hooks all over the place. Like Raging Slab, Paw, Antler and Down all mixed up with bits of Skynrd, the Outlaws, Blackfoot, doused in metalcore, filled with burnt meat and whiskey, lit on fire and set careening into the pit at a Converge show. Fucking awesome!
Well, this is a bit of a weird one. Planet Aids is actually the side project of a band we've yet to review beacuse their records have been so difficult to get. But whatever, here's the story, there's a Belgian ultra doom band called Bunkur, whose records are supposedly on the way to us right now and should be reviewed on the next list. They are of the slow motion funereal doom variety, like Skepticism or Thergothon or Khanate. In fact they sound quite a bit like Khanate but with weirder dubbier rhythms. Well, in the process of trying to get Bunkur records for the store, Bunkur mainman Manuel suggested we check out his other band Planet Aids, who he said were way more fucked up and noisy, and damn if he wasn't right. The problematically monickered Planet Aids offer up one 30 minute track of sick glacial death doom, ultra de-tuned guitars, gargling hellish howls, and rumbling bowel churning bass. Sounds good huh? Well, it gets even better, as every once in a while, the crusty murk gets interrupted by bursts of bizarre industrial rhythms, that sound like a malfunctioning Godflesh. Weird as fuck but so so cool. On the same label that released the two equally amazing Urfaust records.
New disc from this local (track 7: "Lost On Valencia") instrumental surf rock combo. Solid stuff for the genre, groovy, catchy and reverby just like it should be, with a bit of a '60s psych vibe, and also some underlying menace -- you can understand why the
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
AKA Tower Recordings. Another nice disc of lofi psych folk from these guys.
It's Stinking Lizaveta in... SPAAAAAACE?? Sort of. Named after a space age toy (the battery powered, made-in-Japan "Planet-Y" space station depicted on the cover, look for it on eBay maybe -- it's from 1968 and worth a pretty penny, several hundred dollars), this project features two guys using and abusing two (musical) space age "toys": the Casio DG-20 guitar synthesizer, and the Buchla Music Easel synthesizer. One's a plastic, futuristic-looking, guitar-shaped device, a product of the digital age (circa '88), the other a more vintage (circa '73), suitcase-sized item in a metal case with many colorful knobs and buttons. The DG-20, which really is rather toy-like, and has been put to recent humorous use by NZ's Flight Of The Conchords (try Googling it), is played by Yanni Papadopoulos, who is best known as the lead guitar shredder for the amazing instro-metal Philadelphia "doomjazz" power trio Stinking Lizaveta, whom we hope you're all familiar with as they're big AQ faves. On the Music Easel (more info: http://www.buchla.com/historical/music_easel/music_easel.html), is Charles Cohen, who rarely records but has been performing live improvised electronic music in Philly and environs for the past 20 years. Recently, though, in addition to this cd with Papadopoulos, he also has a disc out in collaboration with one of the dudes from damaged psych rockers Temple Of Bon Matin. He's also a participant in prog-folk Czech cinema tribute The Valerie Project, whose Drag City album was highlighted here last list.
For Papadopoulos, this is certainly a change of pace from his frenetic, fretboard-burning guitar heroics in Stinking Liz, but he's certainly up to the task, after all we've seen him crawling on the ground, pushing his guitar across the dirty floor of a club with his nose just to get interesting noises out of it (talk about "extended technique"!). Recorded live last November in Baltimore, this exploratory but surefooted improv session proceeds both playfully and tastefully, Mssrs. Papadopoulos and Cohen clearly knowing what they're doing, able to keep it going, keep it changing, keep it interesting for the full half-hour (well 28 minutes 45 seconds to be precise). It's like Subotnick meets Sun Ra meets Schnitzler... a totally sci-fi cosmic soundscape chock full of spaced-out drones (of course) and bleep-bloop-bleep electronic FX. It starts off with abstract alien chatter mind-melding into echoing mechanical rhythms over which the duo converse in utter outer-space vibrations, pulling delicate, eerie melodies out of the ether, amidst dubby plastic squelch and distorted atmospheres. For fans of '60s academic electro-acoustics, '70s kraut-tronica, Japan's Space Machine, even the recent solo work of Zombi keyboardist Steve Moore... Limited to 500 copies, fyi, this may be on eBay someday too like its namesake! From one of our current fave labels, Public Guilt, this comes packaged in a cardboard digi-sleeve thing that's better designed than most, with the cd's playing surface snuggly protected by a layer of foam.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Freakin' awesome steel stringed explorations through space and time with Dewey Mahood, guitarist of Portland's Eternal Tapestry! He's released a handful of tapes in the past, but Crystal Wizard is the first cd-r release from this psychedelic mystery man, and it's a doozy. Layers of bells, hazy vocal drones and colorful whips of delayed guitar adorn the steel-stringed compositions. Roots music meets psychedelia in a wild hoopla of acoustic trippiness. Super limited and complete with cosmic artwork by Mr. Mahood himself. Yes!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Latest solo excursion from Dewey Mahood of Portland's top notch psych force, Eternal Tapestry. We popped this into the tape deck expecting droning guitar and swirls of drifting loops, but we couldn't be more worng. Mahood presents two sides of dry steel-string fingerpicking, loosely and effortlessly delivered for a haunting offering of home recorded Americana. Recorded after the unfortunate passing of Jack Rose, Mahood was inspired to put the effects pedals aside and record his acousitc compositions straight to tape.
The UK's Blackest Rainbow brings us another offering of wispy acoustic guitar wanderings, this time from Dewey Mahood, guitarist for Portland's Eternal Tapestry, who recently rolled through the shop and dropped off a bundle of goodies. Mr. Mahood takes his solo endeavor to unexplored dim, gloomy territory with Visions of Otherness, a fog shrouded offering of deep drones layered under somber finger picked forestscapes. Creepy weirdo slide guitar and ritualistic percussion, flutes calling from the deep mountains, Visions of Otherness beautifully recalls the dense woodlands and foggy mornings of Portland. Super cool stuff if you're a fan of woodsy drone music and creepy acoustic downer-folk. And don't forget, this cd-r comes in a limited edition of 200 and will be gone before you know it, so don't miss it!
Warning: Emotional devastation alert! Planning For Burial is a one man project from New Jersey whose been toiling tirelessly (and gloomily) for a good few years now, and although this is only his second proper full length, Thom Wasluck has at least 12 releases to his name and with this latest monolith of gorgeously devastating post rock finally seems primed to reach the wider audience he so rightfully deserves. Coming courtesy of the ever-reliable Flenser Records, a local label fast gaining a Profound Lore-like reputation for its meticulous selection of dark fringe music free of genre constraints, Desideratum is an enthralling and mesmerizing blend of post rock, doom, shoegaze and ambient. It's at times pummeling but also beautifully melodic, undeniably sad but also lush and warm - a warmth that's offset by clinical programmed drums, all regimented and martial - which lend a really cool contrast. Contemplative piano rises over the plod of monotonous percussion and the heartbreak static wash of layers upon layers of guitar. The dusty fading light of drifting cinematic synths melts into freeform vocalizing and woozy guitar picking. Sparse riffing builds and builds to the point of breathless exhaustion. Then that dirge of sludgy downpicked guitar emerges again, draped over distant mournful singing and minimal synthetic drums. It's that perfectly irresistible crossroad between abrasive noise and gut wrenching bittersweet melody. At times bringing to mind Jesu and at other times Soundtracks For The Blind-era Swans, or even our recently reviewed (and raved about) Nothing and Have A Nice Life records. For fans of those bands and anything heavy & heartstring tugging this is a total must have, and a no brainer for an Album Of The Year contender.
Berlin-based Brit Janine Rostron (aka Planningtorock) blew our minds a few months back with a live show that was so witchy and out of left field that it penetrated and then shattered to bits our overworked (capital A) Art-phobe radars. We appreciated the fact her aesthetic -- elaborate head dresses, Elizabethan collars and white jeans -- was unironic and baroque, but it was her confidence and complete belief in her own weird creation that won us over. Rostron definitely has something going on - musically and visually, she camps somewhere near Klaus Nomi, Dagmar Krause and Babooshka-era Kate Bush, but she's a little dirtier, with a taunting electro edge that keeps us intrigued...and a little scared (in a good way, of course). However -- as is usually the case with over-the-top performers -- this debut cd doesn't nearly capture Planningtorock's confounding live genius. We ain't saying it's bad. It's not, it's actually a great introduction and there's even lengthy flashes - in "Changes," "I Wanna Bite Ya" and "Bolton Wanderer" especially - that hint at full-power Planningtorock. Rostron's on her way to becoming a real live Art Star in Europe (she just played the Tate Modern), but we're thinking she's probably (sigh) too weird for America. You make the call.
The final release in a seriously amazing first year for the UK's Paradigms label. Some labels manage to be just so perfectly all over the map and so goddamn eclectic without losing their focus, swinging wildly from genre to genre, but with each disparate release and artist possessing some ineffable something that links them all together. Paradigms is the perfect example. Black metal (Throne Of Katarsis, Utlagr), math rock (Woburn House), dream dirge sludge (Hjarnidaudi, The Angelic Process), psychedelic spacerock (Titan), drone (the Walking With Ghosts compilation), prog (Blueprint Human Being), chamber (Amber Asylum), modern classical doom (Hallvardur Asgeirsson), whatever it is that Jarboe does, and now folk. Well, sort of folk. Just like the above mentioned bands, Portland, Oregon's Plants transcend any genre tag you'd care to attach to them. While they may be a self described "psych folk duo", their sound only begins at folk, taking various folk like elements and spinning them into grand expanses of starry skied drone and fuzzed out otherworldly psychedelia.
The opener "The Sky Above You Seeks The Below", is a nearly 14 minute epic, lush, thick organ drones, twist and shimmer and shift, peppered with piano plinks, and a gorgeous velvety torch song croon. Deep male vocals intertwine with angelic female voices, drifting ghostlike above the thick gritty drones beneath. Like a super lo-fi Charlemagne Palestine, a handful of keys held down, the overtones drifting into dense melodic clusters, while the voices weave dreamy minor key melodies over the top. Thick and fuzzy and ethereal. Like using your finger to manually spin an M83 single as slow as possible. Absolutely gorgeous late night drift...
The second track emerges from the first, thick fuzzed out drones intact, slithering and shimmering, before the band breaks into a dark and minimal percussive krautjam, simple rhythms, a looping repetitive riff, plodding along relentlessly through a swirling cloud of guitar buzz, sixties psychrock jangle, warm warbly organ, an utterly mesmerizing kaleidoscopic psychedelic jam that practically goes on forever.
The final track is all acoustic, steel string tangle, slippery slide, shimmering buzz, deep dramatic vocals, sort of Fahey via Comus via Incredible String Band, but with a murky moodiness, a slow moving, otherworldly Appalachia, menacing and beautifully creepy.
Double Infinity definitely puts most of the other free folk and psych folk we've heard lately to shame. Absolutely epic and amazing!
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. And unlike most of the Paradigms releases, which come in cardboard sleeves wrapped in hand stamped, brown paper, this disc is in a white DVD case, with black and white printed insert (much like the recently reviewed Hallvardur Asgeirsson...)
This Portland psych-folk duo really take their band name seriously. Not only is the record called Photosynthesis. But check out the song titles: "Seedling", "Seedling Two", "Tumbleweed", "Roots", "Seedling Three", "Birdflowers"...
The last we heard from Plants was on their Double Infinity record, released on UK label Paradigms a while back, a gorgeous glistening slab of blissed out ambience, droney krautrock and abstract Appalachia, sometimes all at once. This latest disc begins a tranquil ambient drift, with fluttering flutes, warbly synths, shimmering strings, and a washed out backdrop of pitch shifted drones, constantly changing speed giving the track a wavery seasick vibe. The "Seedling" series, three tracks, parts 1,2 and 3, are subtle variations of the same theme. The first, an Incredible String Band style chunk of lilting dreamfolk, steel string strum, chiming harmonics, and intertwined male / female harmony vocals. The second, takes the first and smears it into a rumbling bit of ominous low end, the vocals (or are they flutes?) transformed into the subtlest of wisps, an organ wheezing out a rumbling backdrop of subtly shifting sonics. The third and final part returns to the dream folk, this time adding some hand drums, and retaining some of the ominous vibes from part 2, a bit like Comus, but not nearly as maniacal.
In between the "Seedling"s, the band visits some buzzing Appalachian twang, complete with what sounds like banjo and some swoonsome slippery slide, as well as some subtle distant organ melodies, a dense blur of high end shimmer, a wash of chimes and bells and whistles, a symphony of skree that peters out into the sounds of nature, wolves, running water, wind... and finally, the 7+ minute closer, an almost Christmas carol like soundscape of wintery bells, all glistening and sparkling, faraway upper register whir, little bits and bleeps of reverbed FX, drifting acoustic guitars, disembodied voices, culminating in a muted cacophony of backwards treated sound and soft focus clatter and clang, all smoothed into a bit of abstract drifting bliss. Gorgeous.
For a lot of folks, the Plasmatics were a band that was more seen than actually heard. With Wendy O. Williams and her mohawk and duct tape covered nipples, nearly seven foot tall guitarist Richie Stotts, often clad in a mask and a French maid's outfit, the whole band was a motley crew of subversive imagery, punk, metal, bondage, sex and violence. When this record came out in 1983, a lot of us were just getting into metal, and the Plasmatics just seemed too PUNK. Sure, the young boys among us couldn't get enough of the near nude Williams destroying guitars with a chainsaw, or amps with a sledgehammer or even cars and buildings. But we just figured we wouldn't dig the music. When we finally did hear the band, this record specifically, we were blown away and kicking ourselves BIG TIME. This was indeed METAL. Sure it was punky in a lot of ways, but more than anything the Plasmatics were whipping up some serious heavy metal.
Described as "One part Grand Guignol, one part minimalist / kamikaze conceptual art and one part Texas Chainsaw Massacre," the Plasmatics also managed to be one part AC/DC, one part Motorhead, and one part New Wave Of American Heavy Metal (NWOAHM?). It was easy to forget that the Plasmatics were actually a band. A good one. Live shows were orgies of destruction, blowing up cars, smashing televisions, destroying instruments, in magazines and interviews, that's all anyone wanted to talk about. That and the nipples, but fuck if this isn't an absolutely killer metal record. Huge riffs, classic eighties metal hooks, and Williams' throaty growl/howl. Catchy and complex, head banging and fists in the air, like a female fronted AC/DC-Motorhead hybrid, with strange little bits of glistening pop here and there, where Williams would really sing, delicate and lovely, before launching back into a vitriolic face smashing metallic pummel. Awesome!
Totally remastered, with extensive liner notes, tons of photos, and FOUR bonus tracks: two demos, a work-in-progress recording and a hilarious radio ad! This is the first release we've reviewed from a new line of eighties hard rock and metal reissues on the Rock Candy label. Other releases include records by Armored Saint, Icon, Ted Nugent, Billy Squier, Coney Hatch, Ram Jam, Helix, Riot and more!!!
This well-regarded one-shot '60 psych artifact has now been reissued on vinyl, too, yay! Canada's Plastic Cloud (they have to be psych with a name like that, eh?) issued this, their sole album, on the Allied label in 1968. And if you like fuzz, it's for you! These darkly melodic psychedelic tunes, maybe something like a harder-edged Kaleidoscope (UK), don't stint on the killer fuzz tone. The band - four modish lookin' gents in their early twenties named Brian, Randy, Mike and Don - sure got the fuzz-laced, post-Peppers acid-psych-pop sound down, complete with sinewy pseudo Eastern sitar-ish stylings, vocal harmonies, and trippy lyrics with themes ranging from notions of reality to anti-war polemic.
Includes the original J.R.R.-meets-the-Jabberwocky liner notes, lyrics, and an insert facsimile of the press release that heralded the lp's original release. As melodic '60s vocal psych-pop goes, this is pretty decent (though no major threat to the Beatles or the Beach Boys)... but when they unleash the fuzz guitar, that's when your hair will get hard if you're at all receptive to such soundz. A must-have for fuzz-freaks, essential to any serious '60s psych collection, no doubt. And dabblers may be get hooked too. Limited to 500 copies in this new vinyl edition.
Here's a new reissue of this well-regarded one-shot '60 psych artifact. Canada's Plastic Cloud (they have to be psych with a name like that, eh?) issued this, their sole album, on the Allied label in 1968. And if you like fuzz, it's for you! These darkly melodic psychedelic tunes, maybe something like a harder-edged Kaleidoscope (UK), don't stint on the killer fuzz tone. The band -- four modish lookin' gents in their early '20s named Brian, Randy, Mike and Don -- sure got the fuzz-laced, post-Peppers acid-psych-pop sound down, complete with sinewy psuedo Eastern sitarish stylings, vocal harmonies, and trippy lyrics with themes ranging from notions of reality to anti-war polemic. Those lyrics are presented in this cd's booklet alongside the LP's original J.R.R.-meets-the-Jabberwocky liner notes, photos, and a facsimile of the press release that heralded the LP's release. As melodic '60s vocal psych-pop goes, this is pretty decent (though no threat to the Beatles or the Beach Boys)...but when they unleash the fuzz guitar, that's when your hair will get hard if you're at all receptive to such soundz. A must-have for fuzz-freaks, essential to any serious '60s psych collection, no doubt. And dabblers may be get hooked too. Fer instance, if you took a shot on the Sam Gopal reish we reviewed recently, and were satisfied, you might wanna make this next item for your personal '60s hit parade.
Don't know too much about Mr. Plastic Crimewave (that's right Plastic Crimewave is the man, the PCW -Sound- is the band), do know that he is an underground psych rock guru from Chicago who has played with loads of Japanese psych rock legends and likeminded free/folk rockers like Charalambides, Six Organs of Admittance, Comets on Fire, Pelt, etc. This five piece kicks out the jams, a sloppy, nasty, scuzzy, acid-fried, freak out psychedelia garage-grunge, with brief detours into drone-y lo-fi Velvets inspired gloom rock, rhythmic psych-folk, and even some shimmery, summery shoe-gazey space rock. Fans of Acid Mothers Temple will definitely dig this.
Two massive slabs of modern psychedelic space rock. Plastic Crimewave are about the closest any modern band has come to channeling the spirit and the sound of vintage Hawkwind, which means FUCK YEAH! Slow burning, psychedelic dirges, thick sinewy basslines, tripped out acid guitars, dense with reverb and echo, a brain melting excursion to the outer reaches of the galaxy, each track a slow building epic, a droning druggy dirge rock, eventually exploding into jagged shards of spastic feedback freakout. Occasionally they'll burst into corrosive chunks of Stooges style stomp and swagger, still doused in reverb and wrapped in layer after layer of thick psychedelic fuzz. Features a who's who of new weird underground psych folk superstar guests: Devendra Banhart, Tara Burke (Fursaxa), Josephine Foster, Spires That In The Sunset Rise, as well as Michael Yonkers!!
Super thick vinyl in an unbelievably deluxe gatefold.
We won't go on to much about this one, of all the Small Voices / A Silent Place releases we managed to get our hands on (and are listing on this week's list), this is the one we have the fewest copies of. Which is a huge shame cuz, as much as we dug all the other PCS records we've reviewed in the past, this one is a killer. Not sure how we missed this one anyway the first time around, but beyond the usual spaced out psychedelia, and heady heaviness, the sound on Painted Shadows is way more low slung, murky and krautrocky, and to be fair, it's been a while since we listened to Plastic Crimewave, but this record has us thinking we definitely have to go revisit those other ones, as this one pushes all our druggy dreamy psych rock buttons, pulsing motorik rhythms, cyclical guitars, mumbled weary buried in the mix vox, lots of sitar like buzz, layered sounds all blurred and smeared into gauzy washes of dreamy drug rock, fans of Moon Duo will flip for the opening track, that sounds like it could definitely have been a precursor to MD's looped mesmer. The following track almost sounds like indie rock, still murky and fuzzy and druggy, but a bit more propulsive, with busy drumming and yowled vocals, all over some killer fuzz guitar and some serious drum pound.
And so it goes, a handful of tracks that should have most fans of modern psych wondering why the heck these guys aren't as hyped as Wooden Shjips and White Hills, just check out the closer, the 20+ minute title track, a slow build of tripped out psychedelia, cyclical krautrock like groove, and space rock pound, swirls of FX and wild swaths of buzzing guitar (not to mention what sounds like violin!), all wound into a serious heart-of-the-sun blowout.
Super awesome, but again, sadly, WE ONLY HAVE THREE COPIES, and since the label folded, these are indeed the last three copies we'll ever have. Alternate choices, please.
The welcome return of the mighty Plastic Crimewave and his druggy spaced out SOUND. Another vinyl only missive from the outer reaches of whatever galaxy these guys call home. Unequal parts Stooges, Monster Magnet, Hawkwind and the Butthole Surfers. Freaked out murky space garage jams, with plenty of psych guitar crunch, woozy, drone-y melodies, wild squiggly leads, plenty of groove and swagger, snarled vocals that remind us of Crazyhead or Zodiac Mindwarp (how are those for obscure references), all wound up into swirling buzzy blowouts, that go from slow burning throb to heart of the sun freakout, the guitars unfurling distorted streaks of sound, the drums solid and steady, the bass spreading out like a thick black fog. Been digging the Heads, White Hills, Titan and that stuff, and somehow missed out on Plastic Crimewave? Now's your chance to catch up.
The second side finishes off with a super long, sprawling space kraut dirge, that sounds a bit like a more psychedelic Circle, looped and reptitive and hypnotic, tons of effects, a repeated riff, the background a ever increasing swirl of buzz and whir and reverb and delay, the whole track seeming to slow down and melt into an oozing ambience, that drifts and shimmers and rumbles before fading out completely.
What more do you need to know? If you're jonesing for a druggy tripped out krautdrone space rock fix, you've come to the right place...
Debut record from this legendary UK grime / dubstep DJ, and it's just more of that sound we just can't get enough of, dark brooding basslines, skeletal skitter, that loping instantly recognizable dubstep groove.
Take "Vio-lent", which begins with some haunting cinematic strings, locked into strange loops, while the beat stutters right along side it, and some seriously ominous low end rumbles up from below. This is like horror movie grime, like a dubstep Gravediggaz. Same goes for "Shallow Grave" another creepy grimy jam, the bass a ghostly presence lurking behind the shuffling beat, peppered with disembodied voices and smashing glass. "Japan" takes the same elements but mixes in some traditional Japanese instruments for some dark and moody Eastern style dubstep. "Hocus Pocus" is super spare and sparse, the only melodic element being a looped fuzzy bass riff and sirens wailing in the distance.
But the dubstep slips into grime territory with the addition of seriously grime-y gangstas Skepta and Frisco, on "Real Things", the two duel wildly, their tongue twisting flows all tangled up with the fractured dubbed out electro underneath, and then there's "Intensive Snare", which is a grime hit if there ever was one. A killer hook heavy groove, a wicked catchy chorus, and some killer vocals from Skepta, while beneath him the bass buzzes and rumbles, and the drums throb and shuffle. Fucking awesome.
Representing the last installment in the trilogy of Plastikman records that also included Sheet One and Musik (but not the claustrophobic brilliance of Consumed), this album is minimal collection of austere bleep electronica that has mutated out of the Plus 8 school of Detroit techno.
Richie Hawtin aka Plastikman was always a big deal in techno circles, but we never did (and still don't) get the whole house music thing. So it wasn't until his last record, Consumed, when we finally understood. It helped that Hawtin had stripped his house music down to the bare essentials, and wrapped it in all sorts of murk and grime, coming up with a beautifully grim and stark chunk of minimal throb, not entirely unlike the Chain Reaction label's heroin house sound. Consumed was one of the best chill out records ever, and perfect to drift off to sleep to. And Closer pretty much takes up right where consumed left off. Clipped clinical beats, throbbing and pulsing, like a heartbeat, in a dark expanse of fuzzy ambience. The only big change this time around is the addition of vocals on a few tracks. At first, the vocals were super distracting, but after a few listens the vocals seem to fit with the whole mood of the record, dark and paranoid, they're heavily affected, run through a vocoder and distorted to sound super alien and sexless, reciting strange mantras like "I'm just a voice in your head...".
It may not be as immediately classic as Consumed, but it definitely hits the same sweet spot as Chain Reaction, Basic Channel and Kompakt stuff.
A historical aside: the very first acid house single "Acid Tracks" by Phuture had a b-side entitled "Your Only Friend," a cautionary tale of the perils of drug use uttered by a disembodied voice, run through a vocoder and a pitchshifter. It's a haunting, numbing track that counters the physical rush of the 808 work out and insistant drums. This began a trend within techno toward a paranoid aesthetic, and where Richie Hawtin seemed to find a historical root for Closer.
After the early 90's incarnation as F.U.S.E. making some of the heaviest cybernetic techno stomps to come from Detroit, Richie Hawtin has continued to devolve techno along a trajectory of minimalism. The monochromatic pulsing beats appear more as the afterimage of techno than as some club floorfiller. Brilliant in its paradoxical expansive claustrophobia.
Richie Hawtin put his Plastikman in cold storage well over a decade ago following the vocoder-laced techno bleakness of his album Closer. A smattering of singles from 2003-2010 indicated that Hawtin wasn't quite ready to hang up Plastikman entirely (though he's long been active on the DJ circuit); and then in 2013, Plastikman was commissioned to reignite Plastikman as the center piece at a gala taking place at the Guggenheim. This album is the documentation of that performance, showcasing the cybernetic thump, 303-generated squelchiness, and sleek ambience that has long been the signature for Hawtin's project. The 10 year hiatus finds Hawtin picking up pretty much right where he left off - though he does eschew the vocals, which seemed to be conceptually linked to that aforementioned album. Acid threads from his trusted 303 (undoubtedly an emulator is replacing the classic Roland machine), somber synth lines, and overlapping waves of filter patterns are used spaciously around the gridded architecture of minimal techno. It's been speculated that Hawtin designed this album to work within the acoustically resonant echo chamber of the Guggenheim's unusual architecture; but empty space has long been something that Hawtin has painted his electronics with. The rhythmic patter is methodically clean and suitably precise; and if there's any criticism to be found, it's that Hawtin doesn't crank the bass whomp and crushing intensity that can come from many of his punishing DJ sets of teeth-grindingly abrasive techno trax. No matter, Ex is tantalizing album of classic techno, supposedly foreshadowing more to come. Bring it.
Another blast of fuzzy, jangly, distorto surf garage pop, that will no doubt appeal to fans of Wavves, Drums, Best Coast and the rest of the current crop of retro poppers. Plateaus' sound is all crunchy drums, fuzzed out guitars and lazy, laid back beach boy vox, there's a definite sixties vibe, plenty of reverb, and a warm beach-y sonic haze, but it's way more crisp and crunchy than many of their reverb dependent brethren. The opener's a short sharp chunk of blissed out 3 chord jangle pop, while the second track on the A side manages to sound a bit punkier, but also a bit power poppier. The B side is the reason to grab this though, a super hooky, ultra power poppy jangly gem, killer melodies, a chorus to die for, sounding a bit like Eat Skull crossed with The Fresh & Onlys which is most definitely not a bad thing at all.
We reviewed the debut 7" from these San Diego garage pop surf punks a while back, and recommended them to fans of Waaves, Drums and Best Coast, and on this most recent single, not too much has changed. They may have dialed back the surfiness a bit, but otherwise, there's still plenty of jangle and crunch, the A side a short sharp burst of off kilter noise pop, super hooky, with a crazy sing song-y vocal line, laced with squalls of psych guitars, while the B side has an old school classic girl group vibe, sounding a bit like Phil Spector produced era Ramones, tribal drums, murky riffage, snarly vox, crazy catchy harmonies and a wicked main hook. Good stuff, and still dying for a full length�
LIMITED TO 475 COPIES!!
Looks like we've got a new contender for pop record of the year! After a clutch of kick ass singles, the debut full length from these San Diego garage pop punks more than fulfills the promise of those 7"s, a non stop barrage of hook heavy noise pop bliss out, big jangly crunchy guitars, pounding drums, echo drenched whiney boy vox, hooks galore, crazy catchy choruses, everything sort of lo-fi and blown out, the songs laced with occasional squalls of psychguitar freakout, and super distorted guitar melodies woven into the jangle and crunch, the sound a little bit surfy, a lot bit garagey. Some of the tracks definitely remind us of Thee Oh Sees, some of the others like Jeff The Brotherhood, we described these guys in a past review as Eat Skull crossed with the Fresh & Onlys, which is still pretty on the mark, although on this full length, Plateaus have really come into their own, taking everything they've borrowed and transforming it into something their very own, all the sounds cranked, and in the red, the vibe is loud as fuck, but still beholden to classic jangle pop. It's not hard to imagine these guys actually hailing from NZ and not SD, their sound rife with classic Kiwi jangle popisms, but obviously filtered through the current crop of garage pop. Not sure what else to say, other than we can't stop listening to this, and every time we play it we have a new favorite songs. Summer may be gone but drop that top, put on a hat and scarf, bundle up and blast this like you were cruising down the coast, basking in the summer sun...
Medical Records keeps the obscure reissues coming with two new releases on this week's list, this one a singles collection from a UK group called Play, which features a member of Drinking Electricity, also reissued on Medical, and recently reviewed here, and the sound of Play is not that different, a bit poppier maybe, more a sort of gloomy electro pop, spare and minimal, with deep crooned vocals, and softly swirling synths, with the occasional bit of angular guitar. We're reminded a lot of the Fixx actually, and of course New Order, Depeche Mode, Human League and the like. Our favorite tracks are the more post punk sounding jams, like "Deeper Than Blue", which is all spidery guitar and squelchy synths, but tracks like the brooding "In My Mind" (and the cool, even more twisted remix), with its ominous intro that blossoms into some seriously new wave poppiness , push all our eighties new/cold wave buttons. Red Movies gathers all the group's various singles, a compilation track and a handful of bonus tracks. The sort of sound that so many bands continue to mine these days. Folks who dig Dark Entries, should also be following Medical, and everyone who's been digging all the retro-synth action on Sacred Bones and Captured Tracks, none of those bands would exist if it weren't for bands like Play...
As always, super limited, and fantastically packaged, the original cover art reproduced, and the record itself super heavy weight, and pressed on split red/blue vinyl! Cool!
Trevor Jackson's newest offering Playgroup has gotten massive hype. I think a lot of this has to do with the laundry list of collaborators he's gathered, cos taken together, they reveal a noteworthy breadth (and yet specificity) of taste, especially since
Yet such a long list of credits is also a sign of the times. In the same way that famous DJs with big record collections and even bigger egos get to bask in the limelight of music that (face it) they didn't make themselves, have you noticed there's this trend of famous producer-types gathering together their other famous friends to make records that said famous producer-type couldn't have made by himself cos he doesn't know how to actually play any instruments or write actual songs that consist of more than one or two rhythm tracks, some fancy synth noodling, and a diva on vocals. Sigh.
Anyway, let's not continue to critique the guy for making a collaborative record. The point is, does Playgroup deliver? Well... it's very faux-epic '80s-dance-music sounding. The heavy "funky" beats anchor the music quite well, and will *totally* endear themselves to fans of Daft Punk and Basement Jaxx.
Then again, there's some who'll say it's somewhat predictable and boring (I'm one of those people). And despite what the hype tells you, please note that there is nothing "punk" about this album, including Kathleen Hanna's vocal appearance on a single track.
New record from these ex-Rorshach, ex-Kiss It Goodbye folks, so you can imagine what it sounds like. Roaring, complex, pummeling east cost style metal core. No huge progression, but if Coalesce, Kiss It Goodbye, and that sort of stuff is your bag, this'll hit the spot.
If you like The Strokes, this new SF group sound JUST LIKE THEM! The lead vocalist is a deadringer for Julian Casablancas. Slouchy sullen singing over hectic, jangly guitars.
MPEG Download: "If You Can Afford It" [/audio/pleasedifyoucanafford.mp3]
Release the bats! It's another case of ex hardcore kids discovering the joys of rockin' the dark side-- Pleasure Forever used to be the Slaves who were most of the VSS, and they play wonderfully dark-tinged pop with piano, guitar and drums. Comparisons to the likes of Nick Cave/ Birthday Party, the Doors and These Immortal Souls have been cropping up in adulatory reviews, and those references (These Immortal Souls especially) are certainly in evidence in these very catchy yet slightly sinister tunes. The piano really makes their sound, transforming the whole thing into an intensely heady rock cabaret that reminds me of that "hit" Black Heart Procession song "Release."
Over the course of only a few brief years and two albums, these fervent music makers drew an equally fervent following. So many hands were wrung and much despair was expressed when word got out that Pleasure Forever had disbanded a few years ago. Granted the individuals have continued on making stellar music separately as Andrew Douglas Rothbard, Rabbits and Red Sparowes, but... it's just not the same! Which brings us to this posthumous Pleasure Forever release. We welcome it with open arms and eager ears. Bodies Need Rest is comprised of equal parts originals (previously unreleased numbers, rarities and compilation tracks) and covers. Throughout these eight tracks which span the band's existence, the trio maintains their trademark piercing focus while perpetually on the verge of spinning wildly out of control. They fuel Black Flag's "The Bars" with their own rage, then just as ably enter irony-free into tender territory with their hazy dream rendition of ABBA's "Honey Honey". Drums, guitars, vocals and keyboards come together, a musical tempest as fierce as it is beautiful. Recommended.
Combining beautiful harmonies and heartbreaking epic songs, this first effort from these local boys as Pleasure Forever (formerly Slaves), displays elements of the Doors if they were good and the sadder parts of great eighties rock, such as Swans or the Birthday Party. The recording itself is so complex and layered it's hard to believe this band is a 3-piece.
The year is 1965 and a feisty teenage Suzi Quatro is kicking ass on all the boys in town. Yep, that's pre-Leather Tuscadero, sweetcakes! Ultra-raw, raunchy garage rock straight from the day re-issued by the fab garage mavens at Norton Records. Hot!
Interpol were always a little sleazy. Their slicked back hair and skinny moustaches and black suits. That whole vibe. But hell, it suited them, and it didn't matter all that much cuz the songs were so fucking great. Even though officially the identity of Julian Plenti is a big secret, only the truly dense won't have figured out that this is in fact Paul Banks from Interpol. There is after all a picture of him on the cover, and his voice is pretty unmistakable, and the songwriting too, definitely reminiscent of Interpol. This was supposedly his "sexy" and "sleazy" record, by his sexy sleazy alter ego, but disregard all the pretentious bullshit, what this is, is a pretty bad ass dark pop record, laced with plenty of electronics, nods galore to classic Interpol, and some awesome songs. The last Interpol record was a bit of a let down for a lot of folks, so while this is not necessarily a return to form, and not really an Interpol record, it does for us, function as something to tide us over until Interpol get their shit together and come up with another record to rival Turn On The Bright Lights.
Opener "Only If You Run" is total Interpol right out of the gate, with some extra electronic flourishes, but a loping gloomy bass line, Banks's recognizable croon, a killer hook, some weird production, some chiming guitars and big drums, synths too, and a little bit of skittery programming. Track two, "Fun That We Have" is even better", some crunchy guitar, a moe menacing vibe, yet another very Interpol sounding melody, some glitchy electronics, some weird lyrics, and some lush production. "Games For Days" is another killer, muted electronic percussion, brittle guitar chug, dense dark minor key chorus, some big crunchy guitars and yes, yet another Interpol sounding vocal line. Don't hold it against him, Banks is a huge part of Interpol, so Interpol is of course a big part of him, and thus informs his songwriting, which as we mentioned before doesn't bother us one bit. We're digging this a LOT.
One of six records which were originally part of a multi part release from local label Time Released Sound, whose releases are initially presented as deluxe hand crafted art editions, which we carry when we can, but in the case of this series, dubbed the 'chocolate box' series, which found each record pressed onto 3" cd-r's and packaged in a mini chocolate box, every box hand assembled, and every one different, the set had a seriously hefty price tag, and sold out super quick anyway, so while we weren't able to get our hands on the deluxe versions, thankfully the records were also available as proper cds in more modest packaging. We already reviewed the first two installments on the last New Arrivals List, Taskerlands and David Newlyn, and this week, we have the other four.
One of which is this one, from the oddly monikered Pleq / Spheruleus, a duo whose music sounds right at home on TRS, a mix of delicate haunting abstract folk drift, and minimal avant electronics, woven into a brooding sort of ambience, laced with swoonsome melodies, moaning strings, dark minor key melodies, all wreathed in fields of crackle and buzz, static and hiss, sort of like Rachel's remixed by Philip Jeck. There's a definite chamber music vibe for sure, but a modern minimal classical vibe as well, minus the various bits of cackle and the electronic filigree, this would be some simply haunting string music, but fused to the strange otherworldly ambience, it becomes almost like the hauntological mesmer of the Caretaker, the same sort of mysterious faded memory melodies, and old Victrola production, the strings adding a bit of timelessness, and the soft noise patina making that these timeless sounds feel like they were at least first conjured up in a very different and distant time. Imagine the funereal violin music we once carried set amidst a staticky field of Tim Hecker like shimmer, sprawling into a Godspeed like majesty, but instead of building to an explosive climax, the sounds ooze and drift, a haunting melancholia under a grey clouded sky, the soundtrack to rainswept vistas and wide open expanses, one can almost imagine sitting in a tiny cabin, perched at the end of the world, looking out into the great nothingness that seems to extend forever, this music the soundtrack to such a lonely pursuit. Lovely.
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