The sticker on the cover sez: "A collection of sound waves to disturb your air-space! Journey to the dark side of drone psych!" Well, okay. This mysterious Psychatrone Rhonedakk fellow was last heard 'round here in the company of former Acid Mothers Temple keyboardist Cotton Casino on their collaboration entitled Baron Von Rhonedakk and the Crystal Sun. His new solo disc is again an exploration of dark, synth-heavy psych, full of haunted hippy percussion and whooshing electronics jamming in total '70s krautrock style. You'll also hear his gentle vocals on three cover songs, tracks written by Warren Zevon, Bill Martin, and Peter Sando of Gandalf (whose "Can You Travel In The Dark Alone?" is such a freaking great song -- get the Gandalf reissue on Sundazed to hear the original, you'll be glad you did). I'd buy this just for Rhonedakk's droned-out Gandalf cover, personally, 'cause I like them and that song so much, but all the moody, Moogy spacescapes found here are also an attraction.
Baron von Rhonedakk and the Crystal Sun is a deep-space collaboration between Japanese home-taper Psychatrone Rhonedakk and Acid Mother Temple's keyboardist, Cotton Casino. Its cosmic contribution to the psychedelic droneiverse is a spaced-out Japanese freak up, man! Through textural, multi-colored and sometimes noisy soundwaves, the duo offer us covers of Pink Floyd's "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun" and Nazareth's "Night Woman".
Before Dwayne Gottel re-engineered synth-pop to embrace a signature aesthetic of shock and horror in Skinny Puppy, he proved to be a thorny creative foil for the Huss brothers of Edmonton, Canada. Stephen and Darrin Huss met Dwayne in their late teens in high school, after the Huss brothers ditched early attempts at standard punk in favor of something akin to the darker elements of UK new wave (i.e. Soft Cell, Depeche Mode, OMD, etc.). In the naive and earnest diary entries found in the Xeroxed booklet (a very nice touch of punk memorabilia we might add), Darrin writes in the third person that it was Dwayne who first christened the band The Pinstripe Club after a British nudie bar. The band changed names and managed to gig around Edmonton with a notable opening slot for Moev, the Canadian synth-punk band who were always on the verge of something great throughout the '80s. The early '80s founds a lot of creative disagreements between the three members of Psyche, but they did manage to convince somebody to record them onto a 4 track. By the end of 1983, Gottel had split for good, heading to Vancouver, only to join up with Skinny Puppy a couple years later. The Huss brother continued on, exhibiting considerable promise early on. But the band proved to be much better in slicing up eyeballs than crooning to the pretty goth boys and girls; nonetheless, that's where Psyche ended up.
Re-Membering Dwayne is a collection of the 8 tracks that the band recorded back in 1983 with Gottel. The swarming synth noise, John Carpenter-esque / psychologically tense sequences, whipcrack electronic snares, and aggressive percolations which soon became the backbone to Skinny Puppy's first recordings and demos can be tracked back to these pieces. Gottel seems to have sung on at least one track - the very primitive synth-punk number "Screaming Fire" noted for its brusque, guttural vocals, with Darrin Huss taking up the vocal duties elsewhere vamping effectively like Marc Almond. Another remarkable find from Dark Entries, who present this collection, as always, with a great remastering job by George Horn!
Good grief, how rad is this! Another one, where we think, do we really even need to write a review? Authentic African garage groove from the '70s, by a band that was freakin' called THE PSYCHEDELIC ALIENS! From the same label that brought us the likes of Ofege, and the Lagos Disco Inferno comp. C'mon, what else do you need to know?
This archival release collects everything ever recorded by this Ghanaian band, who put out just 3 super rare records in their day: two 7"s and a 12" ep. Thanks to a several years of dedicated effort by the compiler, Frank "Voodoofunk" Gossner, all those tracks are here (8 of 'em, 23 and a half minutes total), and they are plenty groovy indeed, bursting with lively rhythms, wildly jamming organ, James Brown influenced funkiness, and not just a little bit o' fuzz guitar, especially on the mind-melting "Okponmo Ni Tisitsi Emo Le" that wraps this up in a throbbingly mesmeric finale. While we can't tell you what that particular title means, there are 3 here in English: "Hijacking", "We're Laughing", and "Extraordinary Woman" which might (or might not) give you a sense of what sorts of things this band was concerned with, lyrically.
We've been lucky lately, so many great reissues from the '70s African rock/funk scene, Ngozi Family, Amanaz, Witch, Tirogo, Sweet Talks, now this! Of course if you're familiar with those, these Aliens won't seem quiet so alien. For instance, if you liked that The World Ends comp, these guys (who weren't on it, as that was all Nigerian acts) woulda fit right in! Due to the rarity of these records, and possibly the name of the band, this is considered by some to be one of those "holy grail" releases, though spoiled as we are already by those other great reissues we are just happy to have even MORE great African '70s garage to groove to.
The compact disc comes in a swank hardcover package, with a 32 page booklet. The regular vinyl lp edition is nice too... and then we have ONE COPY (though we can maybe get more) of the expensive, ultra deluxe 4x7" box set version for those who need such a fetish object in their collection.
Doomheads! Hungary's Psychedelic Fanzine is probably the best, most consistent 'zine publication devoted to the doom metal underground worldwide, covering the whole spectrum from doom-death-grind to psychedelic space rock to stoner/desert bands to cultish '80 trad heavy metal. It's a good place to delve into doom history while also finding out about new stuff (Andee
These shitgazers from Ohio started their recording career by just dubbing tapes at home and leaving them in local record stores, an endearingly haphazard way to spread the word about your band, and for a band like this, it seemed pretty perfect. Ramshackle and chaotic, DIY and constantly on the verge of collapse, no reason the format and the distribution shouldn't be representative of the music itself. Acid Tape finds PHS returning to the format where it all began, and thankfully even after all the hubbub and hype, after records on Siltbreeze and Woodsist, magazine articles and ridiculous blog love, these guys (and gal) still sound pretty much the same, and Acid Tape sounds like it could have come straight out of the free box on the floor by the front door of your favorite record store, but like those early tapes, it's the sort of 'holy shit' surprise that sometimes lurks in the free box or the bargain bin, part of the record shopping experience that ca never be replicated online. Acid Tape starts off with one of our favorite PHS jams yet, "Unseen Voids", a big swirling cloud of super distorted fuzzed out guitars, simple scattershot percussion, drawled sad boy vocals, tangled melodies, a gorgeous squall of home brewed bedroom psych, definitely worth the price of admittance.
After that, it's a meandering wander through a drugged out busted 4-track shoegaze FX pedal popscape, gnarled wah guitars, skeletal rhythms, woozy almost dubby bass (especially on "Hard As It Gets (Chill Sax Mix)"), super reverbed vox, detuned acoustic guitars, lots of tape hiss, tripped out electronic drums, gnarled riffs, finishing off with a pretty mighty two-fer, the brief but hooky "Gliderz", with it's melted lysergic fuzz guitar, warbly tape speed, and twisted melodies, and he 7+ minute "Bleak Vacations", a Velvets style blues jangle hypno jam, mesmerizing and spaced out, stripped down and dreamily druggy.
And you thought other Psychedelic Horseshit records were lo-fi, whoooeee, then this collection of out of print cd-rs and tapes, from way back in the band's early days must be NO-fi, or shit-fi, or whatever the next step down is. But damn if this stuff doesn't sound just as good, short sharp bursts of punked up garage pop and indie jangle, caked in filth and hiss and crackle and buzz.
Tin can and twine vocals, garbage can lid drums, fuzzy transistor radio bass, warped Casio organ warble and crappy practice amp guitar crunch, all woven into some seriously classic sounding fractured pop, thing Guided By Voices if instead of being raised on British Invasion bands, it was Pavement and Sebadoh and all that killer nineties lo-fi indie rock.
Catchy and quirky and surprisingly lush here and there, and not surprisingly UN-lush everywhere else. Some of their best songs for sure, the grit and grime only adding to the magic of these lo-fi noise pop miscreants. Total proto-shitgaze genius!
As sad as it is for us to say, it's it may just be about time that that THEE prime purveyors of 'shitgaze' should be forced to give up that charming sobriquet, considering this is their least shitty sounding record yet (and we mean that in a good way). Ohio's Psychedelic Horseshit leave the four track behind and record in a proper studio for the first time, and while the results are pretty spectacular, they're far removed from their shitty older recordings (and again, we mean that in a good way). All of the core elements are present, the jangly guitars, the warbly fuzzy organs, the loose simple drummings, the off kilter boy/girl harmonies, the crazy catchy songs, but here they're presented in high fidelity (at least by PH standards), the sound lush and a little reverby, if you didn't know this band was in fact called Psychedelic Horseshit, you might think it was some new group on Kill Rock Stars or Slumberland, so if buzz and hiss and noise was what was keeping you from digging into PH's killer back catalog, then this is definitely for you, the songs are clear and sunshiney and jangly, the vocals dreamy, the sound reverby and softly fuzzy, the songs still great, in fact, this might be their best batch of songs yet, but fear not, there's still plenty of glitchy shitgaze-isms that wouldn't cut it on most pop records, tape drop outs here and there, the sound slipping into the red and peaking in places, the tape speed shifting now and again, the actual performance, loose and ramshackle, but fuck all the haters who are lamenting PH's new less lo-fi direction, as much as we love those old records, we might even love this one more. With every listen, more and more of these songs blossom into new faves, and we find ourselves spinning this like CRAZY, which is really the ultimate test.
Fans of all stripes of ramshackle pop will love this, and might even be convinced to dig deeper into Psychedelic Horseshit's shitgazier past...
Another band we were in love with before we heard a single note of music. C'mon, they're called Psychedelic Horseshit! And they're on Siltbreeze. And they sound almost exactly how we imagined, only BETTER.
Willfully noisy and chaotic, snotty, snarky and blown out, in the red, a complete feedback drenched dissonant pop shamble, it's like a mad scientist beneath some mountain top somewhere, discovered the gene for the Siltbreeze sound and injected it into these guys when they were babies, ensuring that they would blossom into this, perfectly fucked up freaked out noise drenched pop miscreants.
And pop is the key here. Cause these guys at their core are a kick ass pop band. Little nuggets of crunchy jangle, but dipped in filthy amp buzz, and rolled in busted casio beats, doused with liquid LSD, plugged into an amp with a blown speaker, set up on a street corner, and blasted into the empty street at midnight in the pouring rain.
The clatter and clang of old Pussy Galore, yelped distorted vocals, like a punk rock Dylan, that whiny drawl, all around it crumbling distorted bursts of psychedelic guitarnoise, a totally damaged snarling lo-fi punk rock jangle, like the Strokes via the Strapping Fieldhands. Or the Dead C covering Pavement. A glorious, chaotic, hook filled crust pop mess. Awesome.
You gotta love Psychedelic Horseshit. First off, the name. And of all the new breed of 'shitgaze' bands, the super lo-fi noisy pop outfits that seem to be popping up with remarkable regularity, PH are the only ones who continually manage to sound more fucked up and lo-fi while managing to at the same time sound tripped out and impossibly lush. Some jangly out of tune guitar will wrap itself around some deadpan vocals, some stumbling almost tribal drumming, lots of tape hiss, even some dropouts that sound like maybe they recorded on an old cassette tape they found in the back seat of the tour van, until suddenly they'll bust out with a blown out glimmering wall of progged out arena keyboard bliss, all wozzy and warbly but soaring and totally retardedly majestic. And then they slip right back to their Pavementy lo-fi lurch and stumble, before whipping out another insanely catchy hook, or burst of musical nirvana.
As much as we love the SOUND, and lots of the bands who now practice it, Psychedelic Horseshit still manage to sparkle like a dirty diamond in a sea of even dirtier diamonds. According to the sleeve, these are B sides from the forthcoming full length, and hell, if these are the album rejects, we can't wait to hear the jams that made the cut! WAY recommended.
This is some great spacey rock! Something so confident and seamless about these songs and their delivery. There is this great ability to be spaced out and rock out all at once. Like they are channeling the legacy of Spacemen 3, Psychic Ills have made one of the most striking and satisfying guitar centered records of this young year. We love how they take from both the forefathers of psych as well as the seductive and slightly drugged out sounds of post-punk luminaries like Joy Division and Psycho Candy era Jesus & Mary Chain. The record has not one lull or weak moment. Songs flow right into each other. Whether they are swaying back and forth with a late night ease or turning up and blasting out bleached out melodies; they get it right with every twist and turn the record offers. We would love to see them tour with The Gris Gris as they both take a slightly different approach to psychedelic rock but share a level of excellence that's pretty hard to come by. Highly recommended!
Early last year we fell head over heels for the Psychic Ills album Dins. It was some of the best post-punk gone spacey psych-rock with a punch we had heard in quite a while. What was even more impressive was how they seemed to have come out of nowhere. We had never heard them before so we just assumed that Dins was their debut. We later found out that in fact they had released a couple EPs before, but there was no way we were able to get our hands on them as they were very limited 12"s called Mental Violence I and Mental Violence II. Those two 12"s make up this reissue along side some previously unreleased tracks. While not drastically different in sound than Dins, these recordings are a little more raw and primitive sounding. While there are countless bands influenced by Joy Division, what's so nice about Psychic Ills is how they have translated that influence into their own sound. Instead of just focusing on doing a poor imitation of Ian Curtis' vocal stylings, they understand the sensuality and dark swirling lust that made Joy Division so special. This is almost how we imagine Interpol would sound if they were way more rough around the edges and allowed themselves to get lost in hypnotizing guitar and hazy melody. Kind of like Spacemen 3 practicing in a sparse basement with an 8-track, a strobe light and some really good weed. Umm... isn't that what Spacemen 3 did? Regardless, highly recommended!
On the last Psychic Ills full length, these spaced out dronerock drifters has changed their sound pretty substantially, ditching much of their Spacemen 3 worshipping drugginess and spaced out rocking for something that we had heard folks calling "doomtronica", which we have to say, we found pretty appealing, but on this latest one, they seem to have mellowed out a bit and returned to the shadows, unfurling song after song of smoldering slo-mo shimmer, all muted guitar strum, hushed vox, whirring organs, super spare percussion (what sounds like bongos), and coolest of all, what sounds like a reverb drenched jaw harp (!), which plays the solo on opener "Midnight Moon". And while "Mind Daze" picks up the pace a bit, it's really only just a bit, a hazy softly propulsive shuffle, all woozy and laid back, sort of stonery and later night feeling, but with some thick, buzzing distorted guitar woven in, adding a thick patina of scorched psychedelia to the proceedings.
And so it goes, the record was definitely perfectly titled, cuz this does sound like a Hazed Dream, and the song titles: "Sungaze", "Incense Head", "Mind Daze", "Dream Repetition" definitely further hints at what's in store for the listener, a dark brooding fuzzy spaced out psychedelia, that sounds like Wooden Shjips after downing a mess of downers, and speaking of "Dream Repetition", it's only two minutes, but what a gorgeous chunk of layered psychedelic guitar drone, churning and undulating SUNN-like rumble wrapped around gauzy organ shimmer and some strange processed barely-there rhythms. So good. A practically perfect collection of dreamy druggy late night bliss out come down jamz for sure...
We were big fans of previous outings by the Psychic Ills, which were dark and rocking Spacemen 3 and Joy Division inspired late night stompers. With Mirror Eye they have totally switched gears. No longer sounding much like a rock band but instead tapping into an even darker disposition. We heard one local journalist refer to the record as doomtronica, and we got to say that's pretty well put. With long songs that are much more concerned with atmosphere and space then with bringing the rawk. (Though you could say they bring the krautrock, here.) In lots of ways it reminds us of a similar shift that one of our favorite bands, Unwound made with what would be their last album, Leaves Turn Inside You, where they deftly added electronics and much spacier elements to create a totally stunning album. We imagine that Psychic Ills have been getting entranced by the drone as of late as well as the early years of Cabaret Voltaire. While we have to admit, we do miss the rocking-out moments, but only because they did it so well, but heck, there's lots to get lost in and space out to on this album, which will for sure please any and all ears that have an appreciation for drones with a burning, brooding disposition.
Via Sacred Bones, here's another dose of sensual, spacey post-punk psych pop from this Brooklyn band, who remain in a mostly laidback mode for this recording, nobody's breaking a sweat here, but the fuzz n' throb still does its job. Nicely head-nodding, full of languid dreaminess, torpid grooves, spacious stoner jangle, and occasional moments of almost-rocking. One-track mind is right - the title to their previous album, 2011's Hazed Dream, could do for this one just as well, better actually as this is a mellower trip. Neil Hagerty (Royal Trux, Howling Hex, etc.) produces and provides some backing vox, and certainly does nothing to interfere with this record's zoned out pop vibe. Which is good 'cause we like it just like it is.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
NOW AVAILABLE ON VINYL!! This former record of the week available on lp for the first time...
Over the years, there have been plenty of records that have become AQ hallmarks, the Conet Project, a quadruple disc of short wave spy transmissions, The Ghost Orchid, EVP recordings of the voices of long lost loved ones as intercepted via radio waves, the Thai Elephant Orchestra, a real live elephant gamelan, and of course Laddio Bolocko, a rock group that made the most beautiful white hot, black hole noise we had ever heard, a seriously jaw dropping blast of superdistorted, ultra complex, psychedelic prog rock freak out. When LB disbanded, half the band went on to form Electric Turn To Me, a curious neo-cabaret act complete with icy campy female vocals and a sort of new wave Krautrock sound. Definitely interesting but not at all what we were hoping for from a post LB outfit. So along comes The Psychic Paramount, featuring the -other- half of Laddio Bolocko, guitarist and bassist Drew St. Ivany and Ben Armstrong, joined by the drummer from Sabers, and it is EVERYTHING we could have hoped for and more. It's like they took Laddio Bolocko and just smashed it to bits, reassembling all the parts into a gorgeously Frankesteinian blown out, fuzzed out psych rock, bizarre and beautiful, chaotic and always on the verge of falling apart. The record starts off with almost three minutes of dreamy, noisy, backwards psychedelic bliss out, equal parts My Bloody Valentine and Teenage Filmstars, keening hyperdistorted guitars, dreamy sunsoaked melodies, that awesome percussive fthhhhp sound of backwards drumming, all in supercharged splattery Technicolor swirl. The rest of the record is some sort of outerspace Krautrock, where the order of the day is still hypnotic and motorik, but this is not Neu! or Faust, not unless you took those guys, lit them on fire and launched them into space! Guitars careen and wail and keen and shriek, slipping fluidly from gorgeous melodic runs to full on fiery freakouts, all over a thick snarled bed of throbbing serpentine bass and ultra distorted drums (recorded so hot that every hit sends the needle even MORE into the red). This is like an indie rock Last Exit, or a more freaked out metallic This Heat. It's not just noise and pummel though, these are killer songs, the guitar parts especially, not only are they so complex and confusional they make you think this band must have at least three guitarists to whip up this sort of squall, but they are totally hook laden, which they sort of have to be as The Psychic Paramount are all instrumental. You'll totally find yourself anticipating certain riffs and licks, like you would your favorite line in a normal song. This record effortlessly steps all over pretty much every record in its path, it's not metal but manages to be way heavier than half the metal we hear, it's not really prog, but it's so much more complex and, well, progressive than nearly ANYTHING we've heard, and on top of everything, it's totally catchy, and noisy, and weird. It's really weird. Lots of that is just the sound of the record. In fact the recording is as important as the drums or the guitar or the bass. Ultra blown out, drenched in organic fuzz and room noise, super hot and in your face, with occasional tape drop outs and natural reverb and recording level abuse that adds a whole 'nother layer to the already dense sounds herein. The record finishes off with a completely confounding, but totally killer one two punch. "X-Visitations" is a ten minute free noise dirge, equal parts, SUNNO)))-like rumble and Sunroof!-like shimmer, that just sort of slithers and vibrates. The final track, "Gamelan Into The Mink Supernatural", starts off as a jazzy shuffle, building slowly in intensity and distortion, until it's a roiling relentlessly propulsive pummel, before it just cuts out suddenly, only to burst back into motion after an entire minute of silence! So awesome.
Years and years and years ago, we first heard this band called Laddio Bolocko, who pretty much instantly became one of our favorite bands ever, and whose records became one of those aQ staples, a record we tried to always carry, and would always recommend to folks, because those guys KILLED.
Totally epic, heavy, super intricate, droned out hyper distorted, in-the-red post This Heat sort of math rock psychedelia. We described them way back as "A modern day This Heat, but with bigger amps, more lo-fi production, free-jazz scud missile saxophone, unlikely melodies, relentless rhythms, ear-ringing dynamics and a sound unlike anything you've ever heard." Sounds pretty incredible, and it was. The band called it quits, and we were heartbroken, until 2/3 of the late great LB resurfaced as a band called Psychic Paramount, who essentially ditched the sax, and cranked up EVERYTHING else. A lean and mean power trio, guitar, bass and drums, but the sound these guys conjure up sound like three times that, each track is an explosive hyper rhythmic blowout, the slips deftly from mesmerizing motorik churn, to white noise soaked freakout and back again. The opening track here doesn't bother to ease you in, instead they hurl you kicking and screaming into a chaotic swirl of loose and wild free jazz drum splatter, soaring clouds of chiming guitars, lots of low end buzz and high end skree, but then after a minute the band settle into a riff, and then BAM, they're off, a churning, chugging, mathed out, soaring hypnotic psych kraut math rock blowout, like This Heat meets Don Caballero meets Faust meets Fushitsusha, the guitars epic and so heavy, the drums somehow bashing their way through the din, like a WAY less restrained Circle, just total dronerock epicness, and then the band switch gears once again, the guitars muted, the bass sinewy, the drums so solid, a chugging noisy krautrock workout, that builds again to another even more frenzied climax, before slipping into a super intense, almost robotic groove, the drums holding down a simple rhythm, over a thick droning buzz and muted rhythmic guitar chitter, and what sounds like weird processed wheezing chords, the song gradually seeming to get more and more warped and off kilter, until it just stops, leaving a hazy contrail of layered high end harmonies...
And then it's right back into it, a bit of hushed crystalline shimmer sprawls beneath some spidery guitars and some shuffled almost jazzy sounding drums, pretty blissy and krauty for a couple minutes before a weird super distorted drum fill and then the song explodes into an impossibly blown out metallic churn, before slipping right back into that shimmery kraut groove, and so it goes, the track lurching from blissy to brutal and back again.
The rest of the record follows suit. Less about songs, and melody, more about texture, and tempo, timbre and arrangement, these are physical songs, anyone whose seen these guys play, can attest to the fact that this is about as intense as rock music gets, people gather around the band wide eyed and slackjawed as they create this very same sound live.
The record never lets up, it's almost like Mick Barr if he was raised on nineties math rock and seventies krautrock, the songs white hot blasts of intricately arranged avant math rock mesmer, even when the band seems to be doing something simple, close listening reveals, the tempos are definitely off kilter, the rhythms deceivingly intricate, and the guitar is doing the work of an army of guitars, the bass driving the songs but also adding all sorts of texture, these guys really are pretty much the only real successors to the legacy of This Heat, but they've boiled that sound into something more focused and singular, a blown out, heady psychedelia, a modern krautrock that manages to forge its own super unique, idiosyncratic path through a world of same sounds, creating a fantastically exhausting, totally exhilaratingly punishing, noise rock / math rock / post rock / krautrock hybrid, that literally sounds like nobody else.
Long time list readers and aQ customers know just how much we loved the now defunct Laddio Bolocko. And just how excited we were when half of Laddio Bolocko resurfaced in The Psychic Paramount, displaying a sound that somehow managed to be the perfect extension of what LB were doing when they called it quits along with a healthy dose of some all new shit that took all the things we loved about Laddio to impossible to imagine extremes.
Laddio Bolocko was like a super distorted, blown out, mathrock Krautrock band. Repetitive, propulsive, complex, heavy, but weird as fuck! And actually we would probably use the same set of words to describe PP. But PP has a more looped quality, less jammy, more psychedelic, if that makes any sanse. The sound is close enough that EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO BOUGHT THE LADDIO BOLOCKO SHOULD OWN BOTH THIS AND THE PSYCHIC PARAMOUNT FULL LENGTH. Seriously. Allan and Andee got a chance to see Psychic Paramount a few months back, and we were transfixed, standing by the side of the stage, slack jawed and wide eyed. Loving it, but at the same time trying to figure out how the fuck these guys make those sounds. It was really that amazing. They somehow managed to out heavy Khanate (who were also playing) while still managing to be dense and complex and weirdly catchy. They sound like a heavy metal This Heat! The most amazing part was the band locked into an impossibly furious freak out, when the bass player just stopped playing and packed up his stuff and walked off stage. A few minutes later the drummer stopped, broke down his whole kit and then walked off stage. The whole while, the guitar player is at the front of the stage, in a manic, eyes-closed trance, unfurling massive super distorted loops and dense washes of sound that sounded like there was still a whole band up there. A few minutes later, the guitarist put his guitar down, and it continued to churn out this heavy sludgy psychedelic loop, the stage totally empty, but a massive crowd frozen in place, watching the guitar laying on the stage as if there was a full band up there. After about ten minutes a super cute anime looking girl, short skirt and pigtails walked up on stage and shut off the guitar and the crowd went apeshit. That's what this cd sounds like. Exactly. And live! How the hell do they make these sounds LIVE? Huge swaths of looped guitar, impossibly amazing drummer, maybe one of the best drummers we've seen/heard in ages, there's one track on here where the bass and guitar drop out completely and the drummer just GOES for a few minutees and he somehow stirs up a din that sounds as dense and full and freaked out as the whole band playing. Some tracks are just full on blasts of NOISE, wild and dense, thick swirls of psychedelic sound, freaked out and chaotic, but even at its most noisy it's still so musical. Loud, weird, repetitive, hypnotic, mesmerizing, so so so good!
Recorded live in 2002 in Europe. Packaged in a swank black digipak, it also includes a short film shot on tour that you can watch on your computer.
Over the years, there have been plenty of records that have become AQ hallmarks, the Conet Project, a quadruple disc of short wave spy transmissions, The Ghost Orchid, EVP recordings of the voices of long lost loved ones as intercepted via radio waves, the Thai Elephant Orchstra, a real live elephant gamelan, and of course Laddio Bolocko, a rock group that made the most beautiful white hot, black hole noise we had ever heard, a seriously jaw dropping blast of superdistorted, ultra complex, psychedelic prog rock freak out. When LB disbanded, half the band went on to form Electric Turn To Me, a curious neo-cabaret act complete with icy campy female vocals and a sort of new wave Krautrock sound. Definitely interesting but not at all what we were hoping for from a post LB outfit. So along comes The Psychic Paramount, featuring the -other- half of Laddio Bolocko, guitarist and bassist Drew St. Ivany and Ben Armstrong, joined by the drummer from Sabers, and it is EVERYTHING we could have hoped for and more. It's like they took Laddio Bolocko and just smashed it to bits, reassembling all the parts into a gorgeously Frankesteinian blown out, fuzzed out psych rock, bizarre and beautiful, chaotic and always on the verge of falling apart. The record starts off with almost three minutes of dreamy, noisy, backwards psychedelic bliss out, equal parts My Bloody Valentine and Teenage Filmstars, keening hyperdistorted guitars, dreamy sunsoaked melodies, that awesome percussive fthhhhp sound of backwards drumming, all in supercharged splattery Technicolor swirl. The rest of the record is some sort of outerspace Krautrock, where the order of the day is still hypnotic and motorik, but this is not Neu! or Faust, not unless you took those guys, lit them on fire and launched them into space! Guitars careen and wail and keen and shriek, slipping fluidly from gorgeous melodic runs to full on fiery freakouts, all over a thick snarled bed of throbbing serpentine bass and ultra distorted drums (recorded so hot that every hit sends the needle even MORE into the red). This is like an indie rock Last Exit, or a more freaked out metallic This Heat. It's not just noise and pummel though, these are killer songs, the guitar parts especially, not only are they so complex and confusional they make you think this band must have at least three guitarists to whip up this sort of squall, but they are totally hook laden, which they sort of have to be as The Psychic Paramount are all instrumental. You'll totally find yourself anticipating certain riffs and licks, like you would your favorite line in a normal song. This record effortlessly steps all over pretty much every record in its path, it's not metal but manages to be way heavier than half the metal we hear, it's not really prog, but it's so much more complex and, well, progressive than nearly ANYTHING we've heard, and on top of everything, it's totally catchy, and noisy, and weird. It's really weird. Lots of that is just the sound of the record. In fact the recording is as important as the drums or the guitar or the bass. Ultra blown out, drenched in organic fuzz and room noise, super hot and in your face, with occasional tape drop outs and natural reverb and recording level abuse that adds a whole 'nother layer to the already dense sounds herein. The record finishes off with a completely confounding, but totally killer one two punch. "X-Visitations" is a ten minute free noise dirge, equal parts, SUNNO)))-like rumble and Sunroof!-like shimmer, that just sort of slithers and vibrates. The final track, "Gamelan Into The Mink Supernatural", starts off as a jazzy shuffle, building slowly in intensity and distortion, until it's a roiling relentlessly propulsive pummel, before it just cuts out suddenly, only to burst back into motion after an entire minute of silence! So awesome.
Have you experienced The Psychic Paramount yet? If you get the chance, see 'em live, they're pretty much the ultimate in ultra-heavy, This Heat/krautrock inspired, interestingly rhythmic instrumental post-rock... An intense, very controlled freakout is how we'd paradoxically put it. They just played two nights at The Hemlock here in San Francisco, and boy were they good! On record, too, they're great. Last year's Gamelan Into The Mink Supernatural was a HUGE fave 'round here, proving TPP to be worthy of the same high regard we had for their progenitors, the late great Laddio Bolocko. So of course we're excited about a new Psychic Paramount album! Well, to be precise, this is only sort of a "new" Psychic Paramount album, not exactly a follow up to Gamelan Into The Mink Supernatural. That's 'cause this double disc set consists of material recorded solo by TPP founding member Drew St. Ivany. Disc one features his solo electric guitar live to stereo cassette recorded in France during 2001-2002, plus two tracks recorded in Brooklyn, 1996, on a four-track, Drew performing guitar, drums, tapes and organ like a one-man band. Disc two consists entirely of more solo guitar pieces Drew playing an electric-acoustic with loop pedal and effects, recorded in France, 2002. Guitars and loops -- shades of Robert Fripp or Ash Ra Tempel's Manuel Gottsching! Swooping, melancholic guitar lines, sometimes droning and churning, though a lot of this (especially the second disc) is rather more quiet and mellow and melodic compared to the full TPP band set we witnessed the other night! But still fantastic, of course. And there's plenty of jumbled sounds and scrambled chaos to disturb your placid listening, like we'd expect from these guys (or guy, in the case of this album).
Another krautrocker that this brings to mind, besides Gottsching, is Achim Reichel, whose reissued albums we've so recently raved about. The four-track pieces on disc one could be a post-rock A.R. & Machines!! High praise indeed, from us!
A haunting, damaged and enchanting new musical endeavor/state of mind from local soundstress Leyna Noel. Using primitive and crumbling electronics, distorted murky guitar and captivating vocals, Noel taps into a very fuzzy, buzzy, witchy and sonically rewarding state of sound. The opening track "Omni" is noisy and deliciously disturbing, roaming in a territory similar to early Pocahaunted and recent Inca Ore, although the true show stopper is the next track which is a completely breathtaking adaptation of Sam Cooke's "A Change Is Gonna Come", here transformed into something that sounds both so modern yet timeless, spellbinding, hypnotic endearing. While her vocals are buried beneath many layers, the secret weapon and what really sets this apart from so many other like-minded warped/bedroom creations is that Leyna really does possess such an amazing and powerful voice, an instrument that she channels into a truly dense and tripped out atmosphere. Just under 15 minutes of music but a totally great introduction to what is no doubt just the beginning of what will be a long journey for Psychic Reality. Imagine what could happen if Grouper, Kuupuu and The Skaters joined forces and begin to get a glimpse into the exciting otherworld that Psychic Reality inhabits.
There is also a new Psychic Reality cassette that we have in called Real/Chic that we hope to list next time but they might not last long so might be smart and grab one of those now as well.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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We almost thought we would never get to list this. When we first got it Vibrant New Age in stock, it flew out the door and we were never able to get enough copies back in to review, depriving us of the opportunity to gush about how much we love this album. Luckily we were finally able to get our hands on a stack of these, a record that ranks near the top of the list of the awesome sounds Not Not Fun has been releasing over the last few years by folks like Sun Araw, Ducktails, Maria Minerva, and LA Vampires. After a slew of limited run cassettes, cd-r's as well as splits with LA Vampires and Sex Worker, Vibrant New Age finds Psychic Reality really taking her sound to the next level. Stuttered synths and analog electronics creating a sound that blasts with radiant color and a warped left-field pop sensibility. In fact the record sort of sounds like what it might be like to show up at a late night dance party only to discover a secret side room filled with smoke, candles, and languid bodies brushing up against each other creating magical sparks that bring about a shift of energy. Like our favorite parts of Gang Gang Dance and Peaking Lights, or how we daydream a collaboration between Fever Ray, Throbbing Gristle and Lizzy Mercier Descloux would sound. Intoxicating, intense and full of a haunting potency.
Jump on this fast, as we're not sure if we will be able to get more once this batch is gone.
Two-way split from these two weirdo soundscapers, the debut vinyl release for Leyna Noel, aka Psychic Reality, after a whole mess of super limited cd-r's and tapes. She lets it all hang out (on the naked sparkly cover too), spreading a clutch of interwoven songs over a whole side, letting them all blend into one organic whole. A dizzying mesh of primitive home brewed new wave avant pop, skittery looped rhythms and weirdly chantlike vocals, playful little almost-African sounding melodies, eventually adding a thick layer of buzzing feeding back guitar, a heaving, churning swirl, that sounds almost metallic, but at the same time weirdly poppy, that mechanical rhythm and Noel's soaring vox the link between the various movements. Blown out fractured cold wave noise pop gives way to hushed abstract ambient drift, which gives way to squalls of Eastern style skronk, and intense swells of howling caterwaul, a haunting intense Diamanda Galas / Lydia Lunch soul purging, only to slip back into a dark swirling abyss, tranquil and shimmery.
LA Vampires are a whole different can of warped distorted musical worms, sounding more like a floorcore, underground noise version of Madlib, taking snippets of old tapes, dusty, scratched up records, adding lots of effects, random bits of noise, extra vox, all under a haze of tripped out lysergic crackle and hiss, a patina of bongsmoke and druggy warble, flutes flutter, voices flit, beats, lurch and shuffle, everything twisted and washed out, and seemingly melting very very slowly right before your ears, cool cool stuff for sure.
LIMITED TO 450!! With awesomely sexy, sparkly, painted, hippy, nude cover art.
We managed to get a very small handful of this very limited, Not Not Fun, Bored Fortress series split, between Psychic Reality and Sex Worker (Daniel from Mi Ami). And what a nice slab of damaged and entrancing sounds it is. Sex Worker's side is a Blondie cover transported to an underworld within an underworld of sound that is both decaying and roaming in another orbit, which had us imagining Cupid Car Club remixed by Excepter, Replikants (that awesome Justin Trosper side project) or Black Dice.
Psychic Reality continues to really come into their/her own as this track finds her bringing moments of beauty and sweetness into an overall fucked up and disorientating sound. Fresh off her split with LA Vampires, this finds her sound lurking somewhere between early Gang Gang Dance and a much more primitive version of what's been radiating out of the witch house scene as of late.
We would gush even more but like we said we only have a handful of these and once they're gone they are GONE for good. So you know what to do....
While the rest of the world has been reveling in the resurgence of the cassette tape, some folks have been taking it a step further, and going full VHS! Video Horror Show is a label who releases VHS tapes, which feature not only music, but also appropriately enough accompanying psychedelic visuals. Past releases have included the electro goth witch house of Masacara, and the droned out abstract psychedelic black metal of Suffer The Shards Of The Lost Cult Of Silence, which was in fact members of Woe and Absu, and now comes Psychic Teens, which weirdly enough might sonically fall right in between. Described by the band as "the time you saw your creepy metalhead brother at 80's night" which isn't really that far off. Imagine a sound that was equal parts dirgey psychedelic metal, and broody deep vocal-ed goth, and you'd have the Psychic Teens, and we have to say, it's a pretty bad ass sound. Especially if you're tired of all the wimpy twee eighties throwbacks, this is more like a metalized Sisters Of Mercy or Kommunity FK or Fields Of The Nephilim, with some thick squalls of blown out shoegaze psychedelia mixed in for good measure. The sound is dark and gloomy, a little poppy, a lot heavy, the guitars thick and crunchy, the vocals deep and dramatic and wreathed in echo, this is the sort of eighties throwback we can get behind for sure. And these three songs have definitely whetted our appetite big time!
The accompanying video is appropriately VHS looking, mostly live footage of the band, but super grainy and gristly, with plenty of old school interference, the pic flickering and flipping, as if it was being viewed on an old TV with a busted horizontal hold, a playback of an old videotape that had been in a box under the stairs for the last twenty years. Awesome.
Nicely packaged in a cool old school style VHS case, with printed grey on white covers, and recorded onto a white VHS tape, includes a download coupon as well!
LIMITED TO 75 COPIES!!
We first heard Philly psychedelic shoegaze death rockers via their VHS tape (!) released on Video Horror Show, and as we mentioned in that review, the band describe themselves as sounding like "the time you saw your creepy metalhead brother at 80's night", which while hilarious is really pretty spot on. The guys are most definitely gloomy and gothy, thick Joy Division-y basslines, reverbed dramatic vox, all moody and minor key, but beyond that, they buck lots of gloom pop and goth rock convention by tethering that stuff to big muscled drum pound, clouds of wild psychedelic guitar freakout, not to mention dense distorted guitars, reminding us at time of Bailter Space, thus the shoegaze vibe, the result a sort of eighties death rock, cranked up and spaced out and metalized, in fact that Bailter Space comparison definitely taps into what makes us dig these guys so much, cuz in some ways, with the noisy guitars and thick bass, and the deep vox, they almost sound more like some super obscure Flying Nun band from the eighties, who put out one lp that no one really heard but that still pretty much destroys everything else you've heard. They also remind us of AmRep Aussies Kingsnakeroost and Lubricated Goat, that sort of noise rock blues stomp just gothed up a bit. Plus they pepper their gloomy crush with blasts of almost punk sounding crunch, which makes them seem even heavier when they slip back into the churn and pound. These guys must kill live, which definitely seemed to be the case from what we could discern from that VHS tape (of which we have a few copies left), and this record oozes the sort of live energy most recordings lack, which of course means this is WAY recommended, for fans of gloomy heaviness, metallic gothrock, psychedelic shoegaze deathrock and other sonically similar genres we just made up!
Pressed on white vinyl, housed in a cool striking heart-art cover, with a big white 'x' affixed to the outer sleeve. Includes a download coupon as well!
Newly available on vinyl again, the 1983 second album from Genesis P-Orridge and Peter Christopherson's experimental collective Psychic TV after the demise of Throbbing Gristle remains one of our very favorite aural documents from the entire post-TG catalog. It almost reads as a companion piece to TG's 20 Jazz Funk Greats in that it invites unusually accessible chamber folk and pop tropes into their sound only to subversively twist them into something much more underlyingly sinister. Recorded using Zuccarelli Holophonic technology to create an atmospheric spatiality of near and faraway sounds (this is a headphones record if there ever was one!), the group was then able to record in some very unusual places like The Hellfire Club Caves (a notorious British site of aristocratic Satanic liturgies and hedonistic ritual) and take advantage of the systems 3D effect. The album's mixture of sweetness and light with ritual creep and foreboding is at once beautiful and deeply unsettling and on first listen it's hard to decipher what you are hearing and its mystery still beguiles 21 years later. We're invited in by the melancholy pastoral chamber pop of "The Orchids" with its vibraphone, guitar and oboe and Genesis' dueling vocals welcoming the morning light in innocent VU "Sunday Morning" fashion. But then the totality of the album swings from reverential to eldritchly mystical and from remotely animalistic to eerily brutal and back again mimicking the cycle of a day or a season as it moves between songs and strange far-off occultish musique concrete. There are lots of guest appearances both real and invoked. Monte Cazazza is heard reciting lyrics over the phone, and one can hear Jhonn Balance of Coil getting a tattoo. There is an angelic choirboy singing a Charles Manson song, and most notably on the track "White Nights", a sweet Christmas-y pop number is sung by Genesis (with doo-wop backing vocals, no less!) with lyrics creepily taken from Jim Jones final sermon at Jonestown. Throughout, bells intone, chants are muttered, a lot of acoustic exotic instruments are played with atmospheric intentions more than melodic ones. But the full power of the collective's brutal aural abilities culminates in the penultimate track - "In The Nursery" - which invokes fairytale symbolism and ritual and industrial soundscapes in a nightmarish blend of hellish terror. Essential listening!
Mister Pollard keeps on keepin' on... and on and on! Is there a word beyond "prolific"? His musical output is ceaseless! It's a neverending string of lo-lo-fi pop meanderings and dishevelled bizarre noisy shambles that's been peppered with some absolute winners as well as some stinkers. We've got two new ones in this month, Superman Was A Rocker (under his own name) and We've Moved (under the moniker Psycho And The Birds). Right now, we're leaning in favor of this one 'cause it's got more distinctly Pollardesque fuzzed out, catchy pop numbers. If you're gonna get your feet wet with this or any other Pollard release, you've gotta be prepared to accept the wheat with the chaff, the dreamily tuneful with the discordantly tuneless. Of course if you're already a Robert Pollard fan, you probably already own this! Heck, we often wonder why he doesn't just set up an Uncle Bob's cd of the month subscription club.
I'd guess that most of us are big fans of Japan's Boredoms. In recent years, they've explored what Andee likes to call "hippie drum circle" percussive jams, with varying (sometimes great, sometimes patience-wearing) results. When it's done well, their psychedelic, rhythmic excess can be transcendental, and will result in a record as wonderful as this Psycho-Baba album. Leader of the band Mhayow plays sitar, and helping him out on this incarnation of Psycho-Baba are two Boredoms members: drummers Atr and the mighty Yoshimi P-We (whose other fabulous side project, OOIOO, is touring the USA in March 2001).
In addition to the Eastern flavor imparted by the sitar, the tabla, and other ethnic instruments, plus the wild vocal effects courtesy Yoshimi and her chaos pad, this East-meets-Electronica group has imbued the music with jubilant trance-inducing electronics. There's a certain undeniably sunny, bouncy exuberance that keeps the record flowing colorfully and prevents it from becoming self-indulgent or too heavy. And we even hear the odd echo or two of Miles Davis' lengthy '70s jazz fusion experiments. Yes, "Psycho-Baba" is a terrible, terrible name, but what can you do? Let the music speak for itself.
By the way, On The Roof Of Kedar Lodge is Psycho-Baba's second disc -- we also have the first one in stock, and it is similar, but was recorded before Yoshimi and Atr joined.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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1st album, before On The Roof.
When I found out we were getting this record, I (Allan) just about flipped. Psychomania!? THE Psychomania?!? The soundtrack -- never before released, as it turns out -- to the creepy British zombie biker horror flick that has haunted my nightmares for years and years, ever since I saw it on TV, unsupervised by my parents I have to assume, when I was a little kid in the early '70s! Actually for a long time growing up I never knew it was an actual film, I kinda thought all these weird freaky mental images of maniac hippie bikers with British accents were my own imaginings from some bad dream but then as a teenager I found out the truth about my childhood trauma when I ran across the Psychomania VHS tape at a local video shop -- "Hey! That's the film I must have seen!" Perhaps you've seen it too, maybe even under similar circumstances (several people I've described it to have had long-buried memories come to the surface, and in fact one of the people who contributed liner notes mentions a similar experience to mine!).
As near as I can remember/surmise, it was about a gang of bikers who commit suicide and come back from the dead to terrorize innocents. Hence the cover tag line "Seven Suicides - and they roared back as The Living Dead!" But I also think that maybe someone gets turned into a frog? Or the bikers worship a frog, maybe? (Their must be a significant frog in the film, anyway, 'cause I remember one and there's a track called "The Frog" on here -- also the studio musicians on this soundtrack are billed as a band called Frog!)... Definitely some weird witchy LSD biker 'sploitation happenin's. A unique formula for a grade-Z flick to be sure. Released in 1972, this film about a cult has itself become a cult film, resulting a last in this release of composer John Cameron's soundtrack music.
While I can't really comment on the merits of the film (I still haven't seen it again since way back when, and while I'm tempted to find it and rent it now, I doubt it could compare to that initial experience!), it turns out that the soundtrack is KILLER. Yes indeedy. From the first track to the last, exploitation film scores don't get much better. It's got it all -- total Morricone/Goblin/Carpenter horror flick spookiness, interludes of suitably weird dialogue from the film (someone's mother telling him she's worried the police will arrest him and his delinquent friends gets the response: "the word, mother, is fuzz...the word, mother, is busted"), and lashings of evil acid rock/funk to further pander to and/or corrupt the long-haired kids to whom this must have been marketed. Repeatedly, you'll hear the band (that'd be "Frog") vamping on a simple but effective fuzz riff, presented slightly differently on every occasion. You can't argue with it, it's good. Oh, and let's not forget the folk-pop biker ballad "Riding Free" as sung by Harvey Andrews. Then it's back to the scary music and effects (was that a croaking frog?).
John Cameron explains in his liner notes that this was recorded before synths were in common use, so "every trick was used: Musser vibes through phase and wah-wah pedals, phased bowed bass, drumsticks inside a grand piano, electric harpsichord through a compressor, Hammond organ fed through a phase unit and Leslie speakers, and wordless solo voice." Thus, experimental ominous psychedelic bizarroid film music that gets our highest recommendation. And everyone we've played it for has been equally enthused. (We wouldn't make this Record Of The Week *just* 'cause of some repressed childhood memory...) Rev up your bikes and ride for the FROG. (Vinyl coming next week, for those who want even more of an authentic '70s experience.)
A throwback of sorts to the ritual esoterica of late 80s industrial culture, Psychonaut sets down trance inducing percussive tracks of tribal drums, Tibetan horns, and Crowleyian incantations not unlike the earliest Current 93 or ritual Psychic TV recordings.
Psychophysicist is a one off collaboration recorded back in 1994 between Andrew McKenzie (better known as the Hafler Trio) and Adi Newton (Clock DVA, The Anti Group Conspiracy). The two claim to be working under a Gurdjieffian approach to science and sound as a method towards metaphysical knowledge and gnostic understanding of the universe. That said, McKenzie has been known to exaggerate
Sonically speaking, both McKenzie and Newton are no slouches, although some of Clock DVA recordings are painfully dated within Industrial culture. The Psychophysicist collaboration brings together their mutual interests in psychoacoustics - the ability of sound to affect the mind and body in profound ways. Within the record, complex hypnotic sweeps of radio static are processed to resemble the tonal patterns of interlocking sinewaves, sounding much more like Hafler Trio than The Anti Group and much more than Clock DVA. Furthermore, close observers of the Hafler Trio's work will recognize elements from "Masturbatorium" and "Mastery of Money," as the recycling of sound elements within different contexts had become an increasingly important agenda for McKenzie throughout the mid-90s.
As the Hafler Trio albums - once overflowing experimental bins across the globe - are now becoming scarce, this would make an excellent introduction into McKenzie's work.
The press release for this record claims that it attempts to "fill the gap between the 70s and the new millenium, blending gospel & soul vocals, Afrobeat rhythms, jazz & funk licks with wicked electronics", but uh... they forgot to confess it's *bad*. This is
Good lord. Our friend Ian Christe, author of Sound Of The Beast: The Complete Headbanging History Of Heavy Metal, happened to mention this band in passing in an email to us recently...something along the lines of, you're selling a lot of Psyopus, aren't you? Well we didn't want to admit to Ian that we didn't know what he was talking about, so we just went ahead and ordered this album figuring it must be something good. Well...that's fer sure. If you like ass-kicking ultra technical metalcore a la Dillinger Escape Plan, the kind of band that's got jazz chops and your head on the chopping block. And they're not just a technical tour-de-force, they actually have, y'know, songs. Freakin' impressive and insane... The drumming can only be described as "inhuman" while what the guitarists are doing is equally cracked. The kind of thing you'll play for friends just to see the expressions on their faces. Particularily if they're musicians. Obviously not for everybody, but if you're one of our prog/avant/metal customers, check this out!
Ok, hold on a second, got to turn off the music and wait 'til I'm not so dizzy anymore to write this review! Yep, it's the second album of ultra spazzy brutal metalcore from Psyopus. Once again, it's a heavy chops-explosion of technicality, testosterone and tomfoolery with slashes of jazz fusion amidst the metal madness. We know a lot of people might like this, just to marvel at the band's insanely complex compositions and performance thereof, but you have to have a taste for some mean nasty vocals shouting at you the whole time (not something you always get with other, more tame varieties of metal, jazz and/or prog), but Meshuggah fans should have no problem with it! However, we don't recommend listening to the hidden, 28 minute bonus track...most of which consists of the word "annoying" looped over and over, though that's not the worst part! You've been warned.
Carly Ptak, one half of Chicago's Nautical Almanac, presents her solo effort through her own Here See label. Hot rodded primitive electronic machines and overdriven contact mics are manipulated and sonically mutilated by this young experimental music killer.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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The latest issue of England's finest journal of psychedelic rock. This time with Windy and Carl, Nikki Sudden, Hawkwind, Eyeless in Gaza, West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band and more. Comes with a cd featuring Doldrums, Sandra Bell, Nikki Sudden, Barbara Manning, Abunai, Lucky Bishops and more! If any of our UK customers are planning to attend Terrastock London at the end of this month, look for a cigarette-smoking Chinese American girl and that'll be our very own Windy. Please say hello!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Finally, a new issue of the Terrascope. A cool irridescent silver cover and articles about the Kinks, the Pins, Capt. Beefheart, Six Organs of Admittance, and more. Plus a free cd with: Wellwater Conspiracy, Deviants, Pins, Donovan's Brain, Help Yourself, and more.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Phil McMullen's famed Ptolemaic Terrascope is back with another big, shiny A4-sized issue, just in time for next week's Terrastock 5 shindig in Boston USA. Here at AQ, we were most excited about this issue 'cause it's got a six page interview with early '70s UK folk-psych geniuses Forest (done by Camera Obscura's Tony Dale)!! Wow. Maybe you remember Allan's review of the Forest double cd reissue we listed a few months back? What a neat surprise to get to read about this amazing, obscure band in the pages of PT. AND, just to crank our excitement level up to 11, the compact disc compilation that accompanies this issue of the Terrascope includes not one but two previously unreleased Forest songs, stuff that hasn't been heard by anyone for about thirty years!!! And they're great. Thank you Phil, thank you Tony, thank you Forest.
Elsewhere in this issue, you'll find features on the lofi Texas bedroom psych of Charalambides, former Can vocalist Damo Suzuki, Northwestern cosmic fuzz merchants Kinski, Elephant 6 popsters Apples In Stereo, indie-drone act Landing, too-twee-for-me folk psych of The Iditarod, '60s Bosstown psych band Ultimate Spinach, and more. And many of those acts and others also appear on the cd comp. And, like all good 'zines, after the interviews you get the reviews, of course. So, twelve bucks well spent I think.
Newest issue of the esteemed Ptolemaic Terrascope. Destroy All Monsters, The Golden Dawn, The Magic Band, Cerberus Shoal, Piano Magic, Mountain Goats, etc. Enclosed cd has Green Pajamas, Sharron Kraus, Comets on Fire, Davis Redford Triad.
Ah, happy day. Time to kick back with the thirty fourth fine issue of the Ptolemaic Terrascope. As always, lots between these covers, many narrow columns of text pertaining to psychedelic, folky, spacey sorts both old and new: United States Of America, Jennifer Gentle, Electric Prunes, Steven Wray Lobdell, Clive Palmer, Verdure, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Eleventh Dream Day, Comets On Fire, Kaleidoscope (US), and much more. Reviews galore, interestin' ads even, and lets not forget the bonus cd compilation, this time, with Bevis Frond, In Gowan Ring, Davis Redford Triad, amongst others.
Ah, happy day. Time to kick back with the thirty FIFTH fine issue of the Ptolemaic Terrascope. As always, lots between these covers, many narrow columns of text pertaining to psychedelic, folky, spacey sorts both old and new: Movietone, SF boys Tarentel, Jack Rose, Steve MacKay, In Gowan Ring, Sharon Kraus, Nick Nicely and much more. Plus reviews galore, interestin' ads even, and let's not forget the bonus cd compilation, this time, with several of the aforementioned plus Bevis Frond (natch), Green Pajamas, The One Ensemble Of Daniel Padden, and others!
