"The best thing I've heard all year," says Spiritualized's Jason Pierce in Mojo magazine's recent year-end poll. Windy's new favorite record. Red Rat is super tinny, way catchy Jamaican dancehall with cover art that makes you think they're gonna sound like Kid 'n Play. Energetically juvenile in a good way. Here's more from Jason (with whom we heartily agree): "I think 1997 was a year in which drum'n'bass became more divided in terms of the quality of what was being produced. Alongside the more innovative output - Springheel Jack, Photek, and the fervour of Grooverider - there was a whole load of background, formula music to a point where it became harder to hear the real classics ... "With this in mind, hearing [Red Rat's] 'Shelley Anne' played for the first time or Aphrodite's 'Woman That Rolls', it was clear that this was not ENGLISH drum'n'bass but was so radically different and exciting in the same way as, say, hearing Tricky's garage version of Public Enemy's 'Black Street.' "I always said that hearing drum'n'bass in England had a feel of what it must have been like to attend a Sam & Dave or an MC5 show in the late '60s. Everyone knew that this was exciting, knew that this was exploting unknown territory but it was also just entertainment of the highest order. 'Shelley Anne' possesses all of this and more - alongside Aphrodite, some of the most exciting music of the year."
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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This former Record Of The Week (on the occasion, in 2009, of Sub Pop putting out an expanded double cd reissue), was reissued at last on vinyl this year for Record Store Day... or supposedly it was, but actually, the copies only just showed up! Well, we'd have wanted a bunch anyway, 'cause, again, it's Record Of The Week. Dunno if we can get more when these run out, as, again, it's a limited Record Store Day release. This edition, the first time it's been on vinyl in 20 years, comes with a download, and additional tracks.
So, here's what we said, which is a lot, about this fave before...
Red Red Meat barely get a mention on the aQuarius website, mostly in reviews of post-RRM outfit Califone, but as with many bands, that has more to do with timing than anything, predating as they did our New Arrivals list. If there was time, we can think of hundreds of bands we'd love to revisit and give their due. And Red Red Meat would definitely be at the top of the list for some of us. So this deluxe expanded reissue of RRM's 3rd, and arguably best, record makes now as good a time as any to gush a bit about one of our favorite records of the nineties.
When Sub Pop began expanding its focus beyond grunge, signing all sorts of bands, from pop to country, slowcore to garage rock, they definitely lost a lot of their hardcore buy-anything-on-Sub-Pop fans. But for many of us, no matter how into the grunge years we were (and believe you me, some of us were WAY into grunge), this shift marked the beginning of Sub Pop's transition into more than a regional label focused on a single sound, and is precisely why Sub Pop continues to thrive while so many other labels fell by the wayside. Among those un-traditionally Sub Pop sounding bands were groups like Codeine, Rein Sanction, Hardship Post, Jale and Red Red Meat, all of which ended up loving as much as if not more than all the classic grunge mainstays.
But Red Red Meat, there was just really something special about these guys. They were sort of country, definitely fitting loosely into the burgeoning alt-country movement, but they were so much more, their twang was rooted in a sort of timeless rock, but at the same time it was infused with a druggy warble, wreathed in hazy swirls of whirs and drones, the guitars were murky and muddy, the slide guitar slippery slithery, frontman Tim Rutili's vocals were weary and washed out, emotional, but laid back and slurred, perfectly complimenting the band's warped warble.
Bunny Gets Paid, originally released in 1995, found the band pushing their sound even further out, the sound still recognizably Red Red Meat, but from record opener "Carpet Of Horses", the band seemed determined to create some sort of 'classic' bit of drone drenched country blues. Lazily strummed acoustic guitars draped over a whirring fuzzy pulsing drone, the vocals appropriately melancholy, rough and ragged, allowed to drift over the slow shifting drone beneath, almost no percussion, very little structure, the song a living breathing bit of spaced out dream folk, incredible (and incredibly subtle) melodies, a killer main hook, all left to just sort of shimmer and hover and sprawl, sun baked and druggy, like some sort of drugfolk raga, definitely prescient, unwittingly laying out the blueprint for new weird America or freak folk or whatever you want to call it a decade later.
But Bunny Gets Paid is not all sprawling oozing melting slow motion blues, the band do rock, "Chain Chain Chain" is some classic sounding nineties indie rock and roll, reminding us of a more classic rock sounding Grifters, but still not losing any of their wooze or warble, the record doused in effects, guitars warped, alternatingly crunchy and jagged, bluesy and ooze-y. "Buttered" is a total heartbreaker, thick steel string strum and twang, subtle strings, effects dappled ambience, thick swaths of whirring drone, the whole thing managing to sound intimate and bedroomy, but also epic and timeless.
The classic track here though has to be "Gauze", a moody minor key lope, so laid back and soporific, the guitars spidery and translucent, the vocals seemingly an afterthought, the drums a simple shuffle, lush and intimate and hushed, until the chorus, another gut wrenching heartbreaker, the vocals wrapped in almost Butthole Surfers FX, but done so deftly, that instead of sounding weird or fucked up, it just sound perfect, delivering a total break up /make up mix tape refrain to die for. And so it goes. "Idiot Son" is a the Rolling Stones filtered through nineties indie rock and busted four tracks (with more nods to the Grifters), "Bunny Gets Paid" is another meandering druggy droney drift, disembodied vocals, fragmented guitars and skittery percussion, and another killer hook buried in the murk and mire, and the record continues to unfurl, in all its hazy, lazy, dreamy, wasted, late afternoon, too many beers and broken hearts glory, finishing off with a 2 minute bit of near perfect bedroom folk, peppered with singing strings, reverbed piano, all wrapped around Rituli's gorgeously weathered croon.
Absolutely one of our all time favorite records ever. Anyone into Califone, Calexico, Souled American, Giant Sand, Neko Case, Ryan Adams, should absolutely pick this up, and any one into the current crop of freak folk and drone psych who aren't adverse to actual songs, might dig this too.
And like the expanded Sub Pop cd, this new vinyl version includes extras - B-sides, alternate versions and covers, makes this essential, even for folks like us who already have it. A 4-track demo of "Chain Chain Chain", less rocking, all stripped down and appropriately lo-fi and languid, a single version of "Idiot Son" that finds the song stretched out even further. Record opener "Carpet Of Horses" gets reworked into a pounding dirge, way more rocking and heavy than the original, but still just as darkly evocative, and there are unreleased tracks, one a weird dub workout, the other three wonderfully weird warbly rockers (one rife with horns) that don't sound at all out of place alongside the rest of Bunny Gets Paid.
Remastered, handsomely packaged, includes download as we said, real nice!!
Red Red Meat barely get a mention on the aQuarius website, mostly in reviews of post-RRM outfit Califone, but as with many bands, that has more to do with timing than anything, predating as they did our New Arrivals list. If there was time, we can think of hundreds of bands we'd love to revisit and give their due. And Red Red Meat would definitely be at the top of the list for some of us. So this deluxe expanded reissue of RRM's 3rd, and arguably best, record makes now as good a time as any to gush a bit about one of our favorite records of the nineties.
When Sub Pop began expanding its focus beyond grunge, signing all sorts of bands, from pop to country, slowcore to garage rock, they definitely lost a lot of their hardcore buy-anything-on-Sub-Pop fans. But for many of us, no matter how into the grunge years we were (and believe you me, some of us were WAY into grunge), this shift marked the beginning of Sub Pop's transition into more than a regional label focused on a single sound, and is precisely why Sub Pop continues to thrive while so many other labels fell by the wayside. Among those un-traditionally Sub Pop sounding bands were groups like Codeine, Rein Sanction, Hardship Post, Jale and Red Red Meat, all of which ended up loving as much as if not more than all the classic grunge mainstays.
But Red Red Meat, there was just really something special about these guys. They were sort of country, definitely fitting loosely into the burgeoning alt-country movement, but they were so much more, their twang was rooted in a sort of timeless rock, but at the same time it was infused with a druggy warble, wreathed in hazy swirls of whirs and drones, the guitars were murky and muddy, the slide guitar slippery slithery, frontman Tim Rutili's vocals were weary and washed out, emotional, but laid back and slurred, perfectly complimenting the band's warped warble.
Bunny Gets Paid, originally released in 1995, found the band pushing their sound even further out, the sound still recognizably Red Red Meat, but from record opener "Carpet Of Horses", the band seemed determined to create some sort of 'classic' bit of drone drenched country blues. Lazily strummed acoustic guitars draped over a whirring fuzzy pulsing drone, the vocals appropriately melancholy, rough and ragged, allowed to drift over the slow shifting drone beneath, almost no percussion, very little structure, the song a living breathing bit of spaced out dream folk, incredible (and incredibly subtle) melodies, a killer main hook, all left to just sort of shimmer and hover and sprawl, sun baked and druggy, like some sort of drugfolk raga, definitely prescient, unwittingly laying out the blueprint for new weird America or freak folk or whatever you want to call it a decade later.
But Bunny Gets Paid is not all sprawling oozing melting slow motion blues, the band do rock, "Chain Chain Chain" is some classic sounding nineties indie rock and roll, reminding us of a more classic rock sounding Grifters, but still not losing any of their wooze or warble, the record doused in effects, guitars warped, alternatingly crunchy and jagged, bluesy and ooze-y. "Buttered" is a total heartbreaker, thick steel string strum and twang, subtle strings, effects dappled ambience, thick swaths of whirring drone, the whole thing managing to sound intimate and bedroomy, but also epic and timeless.
The classic track here though has to be "Gauze", a moody minor key lope, so laid back and soporific, the guitars spidery and translucent, the vocals seemingly an afterthought, the drums a simple shuffle, lush and intimate and hushed, until the chorus, another gut wrenching heartbreaker, the vocals wrapped in almost Butthole Surfers FX, but done so deftly, that instead of sounding weird or fucked up, it just sound perfect, delivering a total break up /make up mix tape refrain to die for. And so it goes. "Idiot Son" is a the Rolling Stones filtered through nineties indie rock and busted four tracks (with more nods to the Grifters), "Bunny Gets Paid" is another meandering druggy droney drift, disembodied vocals, fragmented guitars and skittery percussion, and another killer hook buried in the murk and mire, and the record continues to unfurl, in all its hazy, lazy, dreamy, wasted, late afternoon, too many beers and broken hearts glory, finishing off with a 2 minute bit of near perfect bedroom folk, peppered with singing strings, reverbed piano, all wrapped around Rituli's gorgeously weathered croon.
Absolutely one of our all time favorite records ever. There's a whole bonus disc too, which we'll get to in a second, but the record itself is reason enough to pick this up, especially if somehow you've never heard it. Anyone into Califone, Calexico, Souled American, Giant Sand, Neko Case, Ryan Adams, should absolutely pick this up, and any one into the current crop of freak folk and drone psych who aren't adverse to actual songs, might dig this too.
The bonus disc of b-sides, alternate versions and covers, makes this essential, even for folks like us who already have it. A 4-track demo of "Chain Chain Chain", less rocking, all stripped down and appropriately lo-fi and languid, a single version of "Idiot Son" that finds the song stretched out even further. Record opener "Carpet Of Horses" gets reworked into a pounding dirge, way more rocking and heavy than the original, but still just as darkly evocative, and FOUR unreleased tracks, one a weird dub workout, the other three wonderfully weird warbly rockers (one rife with horns) that don't sound at all out of place alongside the rest of Bunny Gets Paid.
And the super iconic doll's head in the tipped over glass cover art gets a deluxe reimagining, a massive fold out multi panel digipak inside a swank slipcover, with a thick booklet, jammed with photos, original covers and artwork, as well as some newly penned liner notes from band members and Red Red Meat fans including members of the Shins, the Fruit Bats, Modest Mouse and others!
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Four versions of a new Red Snapper tune--versions by David Holmes and Two Lone Swordsmen.
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THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Latest full-length from this British funky drum n' bass band (yes, a live band) in the Mo'Wax tradition.
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The LA-based band Red Sparowes [sic] make their debut with At The Soundless Dawn, released by our pals at Neurot. And they do have Neurosis connections, these guys, as well as qualifying as being an Isis side-project (three of the Red Sparowes are also in Isis, I believe). It's certainly believable given the sort of lumbering, sprawling post-rock sounds found here. Warm and heavy and spacey and pretty all the same time, reminding us of the downer-pop of Katatonia, and the epic vistas of the Grails, as well as the likes of Explosions In The Sky and Subarachnoid Space. A mostly instrumental blend shoegazery guitars, some pedal steel, keyboards... seven lovely long songs with long long song titles.
Full length number two from epic post rock soundscapers the Red Sparowes. Sharing members with Isis, these guys tread similar sonic ground, although where Isis take their sound in a decidedly sludgy more metallic direction, The Sparowes move in their own, toward a much mathier, almost prog rock sound. Each track is massive in scope and composition, lengthy almost krautrock grooves lead into spacey ambience which lead into heavy crunchy "choruses". Riffs repeat and loop and slowly transform, multiple guitars weave in and out of the minor key melodies, creating dense harmonies, and strange rhythmic counterpoints to the motorik rhythms. Red Sparowes are another band where it's hard to pinpoint just exactly what it is that makes them sound different or special, but that something is most definitely there. Sure it's slightly metallic, it's most definitely math rock or post rock. It's big and brooding, minor key and slightly melancholy, the guitars are big and thick, the drums simple but propulsive, but each one of those parts is transformed by the way they are assembled, the arrangements, the songwriting, imbue each of those elements with extra emotion, extra power. Which makes the heavy parts that much more riffage, the ambient parts that much more spacey and drifty, the sad parts that much darker. Obviously if you're into Isis and Aereogramme and Mogwai and all of that sort of stuff you'll for sure love this. But even folks who haven't been blown away by those bands should check these guys out. Super emotional, incredibly epic and grand, instrumental rock of the highest order. Like a more metallized Sigur Ros or like a dreamier dronier, WAY less metal Neurosis.
MPEG Stream: "The Great Leap Foward Poured Down Upon Us One Day Like A Mighty Storm, Suddenly And Furiously Blinding Our Senses." [/audio/redsparerhgreat.m3u]
MPEG Stream: "We Stood Transfixed In Blank Devotion As Our Leader Spoke To Us, Looking Down On Our Mute Faces With A Great, Raging, And Unseeing Eye." [/audio/redsparerhstood.m3u]
MPEG Stream: "Like The Howling Glory Of The Darkest Winds, This Voice Was Thunderous And The Words Holy, Tangling Their Way Around Our Hearts And Clutching Our Innocent Awe." [/audio/redsparerhhowling.m3u]
"There are times in life that could be good or could be bad. Sometimes you can't really tell the difference between everything, and you get really confused about what's good and what's bad. Like that hamburger you ate last night. Boy, it sure tasted good, but you can't help saying to yourself 'I'm a cool indie-rock star with dozens maybe even hundreds of adoring fans who would think I was cooler if I was a vegetarian.' Or maybe it's like a girl who dumped you in high school for that guy who drove the big pick-up truck and had better cowboy boots than you. No it's not that screwed up and I'm not here to sing you songs about love, being in love, or making love. Anyway, I like the burger allegory. See what I mean? Times are rough in this crazy, mixed-up world. This song is about those times." That song and three others from Red Stars Theory.
A reissue of Red Stars Theory's long out of print first 10" and 7" (originally released in 1995 on Deluxe and RxRemedy respectively). Featuring the youthfully emotive talents of James Bertram (of Built to Spill, Lync and Beck) and Jeremiah Green (of Modest Mouse). As documented by no-slouch-himself Calvin Johnson at Dub Narcotic Studios. And at $6.98, it's a super steal!
We have loved this band since we were in high school, when we first picked up a copy of the Red Temple Spirits' first record. That album - Dancing To Restore An Eclipsed Moon - became something we've returned to over and over again. Then, it was a more adventurous, post-apocalyptic, and lysergically tainted take on the British post-punk / goth-pop albums of my youth. You know, Love & Rockets, Siouxsie, The Smiths, The Cure. But later, upon discovering the Syd Barrett fronted Pink Floyd records, Twink's Think Pink, and the Outsiders' CQ, Red Temple Spirits seemed less to fit in with their contemporaries and more of a feral updated expression of psychedelic awakening of those bands from the '70s. The basslines from Red Temple Spirits may have been lifted wholesale from Steven Severin of Siouxsie & The Banshees, and the guitars could hit the jagged, sparkplug bursts of Gang Of Four or even Crime (but for the most part, they paralleled the dark-eyed jangle of the Abecedarians); but the arrangements were far more convoluted - at times shambolic and rambling, and at others ritualistically intense.
The band emerged out of the LA goth-punk scene in 1987, when bassist Dino Paredes departed Psi-Com, which was fronted by none other than Perry Farrell (who would go on to form Jane's Addiction) only to find another amazing frontman in the form of William Faircloth. This British ex-pat was equal parts doomsayer and acid casualty, eagerly waxing poetic about the latter through the lens of the former. Many of these visionary tales mapped out a basic philosophy of universalist gnosticism - "The Light Of Christ" addresses a common gnostic precept that an inner wisdom is trapped within the human condition and can be tapped through meditation, invocation, rigorous study, whatnot, but not before passing through allusions to Buddhism and animism. Vocally, Faircloth sounds a hell of a lot like Black Francis / Frank Black trying to do a Syd Barrett impersonation - a demonic, tonal yelp with a faint trace of a British lisp.
The band produced two albums, the aforementioned Dancing To Restore An Eclipsed Moon (1988) and the nearly impossible to find If Tomorrow I Were Leaving For Lhasa, I Wouldn't Stay A Minute More (1989). The bulk of copies of the latter all seemed to end up in Greece for whatever reason, and given the prices for the album online, must have been single handedly supporting the Greek economy. The debut is an astonishing album that sprawls from languid dirges to frenetic punk-pop songs all lead in dramatic fashion by Faircloth. The second album attempts to tighten up some of the more unhinged aspects, with a few more conventional psych-rock songs but when they hit the cover of Pink Floyd's "Set The Controls To The Heart Of The Sun," it really is a twisted acid trip launched beyond Earth's orbit, through pounding tribal rhythms, Keith Levene-esque guitar scratchiness, and Faircloth's belted vocals. Both of those albums are present in their entirety here, along with some choice bonus tracks (including a really tripped out version of 13th Floor Elevators' "Rollercoaster") as well as a third disc of demos.
This 3cd set also marks the reinvention/reactivation/resurfacing of Bruce Licher's Independent Project Records, complete with the amazing letterpress folios he was creating back in the '90s. Faircloth was actually one of Licher's press technicians after Red Temple Spirits broke up, and Red Temple Spirits and Licher's Savage Republic were certainly coming from the same headspace. The major difference being that Red Temple Spirits was actually a way better band, if criminally under-appreciated. Very highly recommended!
Jason Lakis of local band Half Film has a new band, The Red Thread. This debut album is lovely, unhurried, and consistently engaging. Mixes the hushed languor and downtrodden vocal delivery of Red House Painters, the clean, pure melancholy of Scud Mountain Boys, some Fahey-like exploratory guitar. Doesn't scream for attention but attention is nonetheless rewarded, as it is with the abovementioned bands, or groups like Low and Tindersticks. And Steely Dan, *that's* who Red Thread reminds me of. An overall minor key tone never becomes cloying, there's occasional subtle harmonizing and sprightly pedal steel. Very nice! Recommended.
MPEG Download: "Subject to Change" [/audio/redthreadsubject.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Subject to Change" [/audio/redthreadsubject.m3u]
This is great! If the day has become overcast, this just might be the album to put on... that is if you want something to lure you deeper into that drizzly, hot chocolate-required state. The Red Thread's wistful music will offer you comforting shelter. Along with mainman Jason Lakis' own trademark understated, lilting mellowness cushioned by a warm combo of acoustic and electric guitar, you might also perceive the lush heartache pop sensibilities of bands like Pernice Brothers or Low and, forgive me if this sounds nuts, but maybe even an occasional dash of '70s classic rock influences a la Blue Oyster Cult too. Unlike the ship and birds in the album title, everything here seems fittingly (and lovingly) arranged in their places. Recommended.
So oddly familiar! Red Thread remind me of a band from the '90s... can't quite put my finger on it. Help! And no it's not Half Film, The Red Thread mainman Jason Lakis' previous band. Hmmm, at any rate the familiarity makes listening to this album quite a comforting experience. Anyways this is his second solo album, that continues on in his moody mellow rock path. Tension Pins is rich with forlorn beauty, strong songwriting, warm twangy productions. Lakis' vocals sounds like a drowsy Britt Daniel of Spoon (no, that's not who R.T. remind me of either!). There's some real treasures here. One of the album's best just might be the third song "Five Below", give 'er a listen! For fans of Red House Painters, Pernice Brothers and the Czars.
San Francisco band featuring members of Beulah and Every Moving Picture.
The debut record from one of my (Andee) all time favorite bands. This record is soooo great. For lots of different reasons, not the least being that they were all of 13 or 14 years old when they recorded it. Damn. When I was 13, I was watching cartoons and eating mac and cheese, not tearing up the Sunset Strip and playing in a kick ass punk rock band. And punk rock this is. While there are hints of the pop geniuses they were to become, 'Born Innocent' is mostly trashy, glammy, noise-y, bratty fun. And boy is it fun! From the almost punk rock jig of 'Pseudo Intellectual', to the shredding 'Linda Blair', the McDonald brothers prove that even at 13 they could rock with the big boys!
This classic Redd Kross rarity finally gets re-released so Andee can once again gush endlessly:
I have loved this record for soooooo long. But I had forgotten just how long until quite recently when I was going through my high school senior yearbook (1988 if you must know) after my Mom reminded me that a certain suspected murder went to high school with me. So I looked, and did find Scott Peterson(!). I didn't really remember him, although I recognised his face from the news, but what I did realise was that my senior quote was almost entirely lyrics from THIS RECORD! What a geek! That was 15 years ago! And this record still totally blows me away! And why shouldn't it?!? This is one of the best indiepsychedelicpunkpoprock records ever made! Noisy and trashy and psychedelic but so totally clever and catchy and super rocking. Redd Kross took the perfect pop of the Beatles, the druggy haze of sixties drugrock, an obsession with all things kitcsh, brotherly love/hate (frontmen Jeff and Steve are brothers, who would often end up in on-stage fistfights!), the burgeoning eighties L.A. punk rock scene, youthful exuberance bordering on snottiness (Jeff and Steve were barely teenagers when the band started), a knack for crafting wickedly hooky songs and perfect sibling vocal harmonies (perfect in the sense that they were both whiny, and bratty and singing to the very edge of their range) into what I think is probably one of the best bands EVER. Neurotica is probably the record that best defines what makes Redd Kross so great and unique. Before Neurotica, they were a sloppy, chaotic mess, stumbling and screwing around and seemingly accidentally stumbling on perfect pop gems. After Neurotica, they became seasoned pop pros, getting more and more melodic, with better production and more money. Almost becoming a sort of hard rock / bubblegum amalgam. Transition records can be awkward, and Neurotica is a little, but that's what makes it so great. Leftover thrashy punk-rock-ness pops up amidst unbearably catchy pop sweetness, snotty fuck-you lyrics nestle right up against heart felt love songs, anti-Sunset Strip wannabe-rock-star diatribes ("No metal sluts, or punk rock ruts for me...Oh Noooooooooo") sit beside folky, beatniky acoustic-guitar-and-bongos odes to love ("You're my love, you're my happiness, you're the one, you're the reason why it's true. Ooo ooo ooo"), but for the most part this is wild and wooly, catchy and crazy, acid soaked pop-ified punk rock! And it's soooooo good!
The return of Redd Kross!!! Their first record in FIFTEEN YEARS!! The Redd Kross nerds at aQ have been in a tizzy since we first heard about an impending new album. And we're happy to report it's even better than we had hoped. And impossibly, it might just be their best since Third Eye, heck, maybe even since Neurotica! And yeah, we talk a lot about favorite bands, and are quite hyperbolic in our descriptions of records and groups we love, but Redd Kross definitely are one of our all time favorite bands EVER, no hyperbole there at all, some of us have been listening to Redd Kross for going on thirty years now. And Andee's very first band (with Jay Lesser) even played their first show with Redd Kross!! And every single RK record, from the early punk rock teenage jams, to their later, more polished, major label releases, has ruled, the boys in Redd Kross masters of pop songcraft, unfettered Beatles worship mixed with an encyclopedic knowledge of classic pop music, not to mention punk rock roots and a sound so distinctive that even wearing their influences boldly on their sleeves, Redd Kross jams could never be mistaken for anyone else.
We went and saw them play last year, the first tour with the original line up in ages, and it was rumored the band were raising money to release the next record themselves, and they played all the hits, new and old, and sounded as food as ever. And here we are a year or so later, and Merge stepped up and released what might just be contender for record of the year, and as mentioned above, might just be one of Redd Kross' best record period.
We weren't initially sold by the first single, the title track, which totally sounds like a Neurotica B side, which is not a bad thing at all, it just sounded a little like RK by the numbers, but then something happened and the more we listened to it, the better it got, a KILLER chorus and an even more killer pre-chorus/bridge, some wild wah guitar psychedelia, the sound heavy and fuzzy and crunchy, swaggery and the sort of sound younger bands would kill for. But once the second track started, we knew this was IT. "Stay Away From Downtown", is total Yellow Pills style power pop super charged and cranked up, with a main riff that is SO catchy, the vocals and main melody total Beatles worship, and then the chorus, holy shit, one listen and it was lodged permanently in our brains. Nothing we can say can compare to hearing it, check out the sample below and be SMITTEN. We ended up listening to that song fifty times at least before we could even bear to move on, and yet the rest of the record did not disappoint, and more than lived up to the promise of the first two tracks. "Uglier" is another track that sounds like it could have been plucked right off of Neurotica, and the chorus, another killer, crazy catchy, the song laced with some rad psychedelic freakouts.
"Dracula's Daughter" is classic Redd Kross balladry, all Partridge family style power pop jangle, and at times melodically reminding us of Thelonious Monster's "Sammy Hagar Weekend", while "Meet Frankenstein" is a perfect slab of fifties style retro pop, which had us thinking Redd Kross would have been an even better choice to supply the music for the fictional band in the movie That Thing You Do (instead of Fountains Of Wayne).
The rest of the record unwinds like a classic Redd Kross record, every song crazy catchy, jangly and fuzzy, funny clever lyrics, killer harmonies, hooks galore, borrowing liberally from all the classic pop bands that came before, but making those sounds all their own, and stick around for closer "Hazel Eyes", whose main riff is a dead ringer for another classic RK jam "Follow The Leader", from 1997's Show World, but here unwinds as a droned out psychedelic jangle pop dirge, laced with weird effects, and a woozy groove, and finishes the record in fine fashion, weird, heavy, trippy and crazy catchy. It's been nearly impossible to work on the list cuz this record is ALL WE WANT TO LISTEN TO. And we're already gearing up to see Redd Kross play here next week, we're in a sort of Redd Kross mania, which makes sense cuz this record is SO GOOD. Record Of The Week hands down, and yeah, quite possibly Record OF THE YEAR!
Anyone who's been digging Ty Segall, King Tuff, Purling Hiss and other like minded noise poppers, who has yet to discover the joys of Redd Kross, now is the time to discover your new favorite band!!
Redd Kross are absolutely one of my all time favorite bands EVER (sez Andee). They've been kicking ass for more than 25 years, going from snotty bratty punks, to brooding glam rockers, to power pop geniuses to some impossible combination of all three. They played recently here in SF, with their classic lineup, and played songs from their whole career, punk oldies and more recent pop gems and they all sounded amazing. Every show is a gas, the band going off on insane tangents, playing loads of covers (PJ Harvey, Abba) and sometimes totally destroying their own songs.
Every single one of their records is amazing, maybe none more so than this one right here, simultaneously their least and most popular. Their least, cuz it was a pretty dramatic sonic shift. True fans shifted right along with them, but casual fans did not dig their new even flowery pop sound. BUT, they had their biggest hit with this record, the totally genius "Annie's Gone", which you might not know by title, but once you hear it you'll most likely recognize it immediately. Whatever anyone thinks, if you're into killer pop, it's hard to imagine you wouldn't totally dig Third Eye.
Anyway, this is part of a strange reissue program where records are re-released, but are only available for 6 months and then they'll go out of print again (like the recent Alice Cooper Records Of The Week). So while we're not sure what the reasoning behind that is, all we can say is we'll take a Third Eye reissue anytime and anyhow. So what's the big deal? Well beyond style and history and past records and all the non musical bullshit, Redd Kross are some of the best pop songwriters EVER. EVER. No hyperbole, these guys seem like they can effortlessly whip out perfect pop on a moments notice. Incredible hooks, killer riffs, unforgettable memories, gorgeous harmonies, shredding guitar, kick ass drumming, and the unmistakable voices of frontmen/brothers Jeff and Steven McDonald. Listening to this again, it's really hard to imagine how any one into Redd Kross wouldn't have dug this disc. It's appropriately schizophrenic (like RK always are), it's got some ass kicking rockers, some dreamy almost ballads, maybe it was the hit, nothing like a hit to get folks screaming "sell out" But fuck it. This record rules. The hit especially. "Annie's Gone" is a dark minor key jam, with a chorus to die for, with a video featuring Anne Magnuson of Bongwater! "Shonen Knife" is a super rocking blast of Stooges-y riffing and still even more hooks. "1976" was the other big hit, another caffeinated blast of feel good power pop, with pounding piano, big distorted guitars and lots of wah wah! "Bubblegum Factory" is just that. Total pure bubblegum pop, and practically perfect to boot. The record finishes off with "Elephant Flares" another grungy garage-y rocker, with a killer metallic groove chorus. Eighteen years later and Third Eye still sounds as great as it did when I was 20! Needless to say, pop kids who don't own this or god forbid have never heard Redd Kross absolutely MUST own this. One of Andee's all time favorite records, from one of his all time favorite bands!!!!!!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
A killer slab of ultra minimal, low end soundscapes, from this LA noisemaker. Tangled shadowy shapes twist and slither, stretch and contort, a constantly shifting lowercase world of speaker destroying rumble and strangely sibilant buzz. This is thick and crunch and heavy and will probably cause damage to your speakers, but it's all muter and muffled, dragged down into the dark, so instead of being an all out noise assault, it's a beautiful and serene crawl through some black sonic underworld, ambient, but subtly harsh, dreamlike, but ominous and mysteriously fucked up. The sound can be cavernous one second, machinelike the next. Imagine the still warm corpse of Wolf Eyes, laid out on the slab, sliced wide open, all manner of microscopes and imaging devices trained on the various, still pulsing inner workings of the beast, well, the sound being picked up by the most sensitive of microphones, placed delicately within the carcass, are picking up the very sounds captured here.
Packaged in gorgeous chipboard sleeves, one side with a pasted on image, the front adorned with a simple symbol in metallic silver ink. Each one different. Really striking. Pressed on super thick vinyl, with a full color printed insert. LIMITED TO 330 COPIES!
Oh man, does this hit the spot. Total old school, abject, cold and clinical, noise drenched industrial, a symphony of rusty old machines, the cranks and levers operated by rotting corpses, this crumbling sound factory situated upon a blackened expanse of charred remains and ruined cities, the voice a reverb drenched howl, a totally hypnotic rhythmic clatter creates the skeletal framework, while all around, clouds of hiss and buzz are woven into slow shifting almost-riffs, lumbering, stumbling, dark and dour, shot through with barely there streaks of melody, a brief bit of cinematic apocalyptica, the flip side, features another lurching steam punked Skinny Puppied rhythm track, this time pelted by bits of glitch and fuzzed out sine waves, a female voice speaks over the top, telling tales of violence and mayhem, in a calm measured tone, a strange contrast to the looped decaying sprawl of Redrot's harrowing soundscapery. Deep processed vocals are morphed into thick undulating tones, fragmented electronics wrapped around a frizzled underwater pulse, a swirling backdrop of creak and crunch and whir, the motorik lo-fi robotic beat in lockstep with a growling alien commentary. Awesome stuff for sure. So awesome in fact, that we just listened to this like 3 times in a row, and we're only really stopping now because we have other reviews to write...
LIMITED TO 200 COPIES!!!
Redrot is one of the psycho-electronic projects of midwestern malcontent Ryan Oppermann who graced us with the bleakly industrial music of Klinikal Skum in the recent past. Previous Redrot recordings have gaped with a death-industrial pall, thrumming with macabre noise and oppressive atmosphere. On Drowning amplifies those bad moods with much of the rhythmic structure that Oppermann delivered on the Klinikal Skum tapes. The tinny drum machines, power electronic styled throat clearing vocalizations, and deliberately atonal phrases of synth blorp may bring thoughs of Wolf Eyes. And it's certainly true that Oppermann pecks his notes with a similar ear to Maurizio Bianchi in setting down discomforting juxtapositions of seering synth tones. But the pace is far mor manic and propulsive, presenting a cybernetic brittleness to what Oppermann has crafted and lending much more of cracked mirror comparison to Youth Code's recapitulation of the more aggressive parts of Front 242 and Skinny Puppy from say 1985. On Drowning is quite a harrowing piece of retro-garde electronics and bad intentions. Super limited pressing, and it already appears to have been discontinued at the label. Restocks are unlikely, we're afraid.
Live in LA 2003, a double disc set of songs spanning ol' Lou's career from his days in the Velvets to more recent endeavors.
We had to remember one of the most important rules we learned as kids when it came to this record. Don't judge a book by its cover. Man, was it hard not to. When we first heard that Lou Reed made a record for meditation that was mostly being sold and marketed at new age stores it got lots of eyes rolling and lots of jokes flying around here. But then we tried to listen without prejudice, per the above mentioned rule, and guess what? Truth be told, this is really pretty damn good! Once you get past the packaging and non-musical baggage that comes with this disc of "New Age" music, you remember that if anyone has the right to make a record of drones it's someone who was in the goddamn Velvet Underground, as they were one of the first bands to really introduce the drone into (semi)mainstream rock and pop. Originally recorded by Reed for his own meditation and Tai Chi practice, many of his friends heard it and asked him to make copies for them. Much like David Bowie's instrumental work in the '70s mostly given to friends, it's easy to hear that these are sounds coming from a place that has nothing to do with wanting to make a hit record, but instead come from a deeper place. And that's a very good thing considering he hasn't made much music in recent years that we've been too excited about. If this record came to us as a mysterious cd-r with stark packaging and a cultish name (like many AQ favorites do!) we probably would have been lauding its meditative drones and intense ambience. This could be something you could almost imagine coming out on Yarn Lazer or Root Strata or Faraway Press. Even when the music seems peaceful there is still sonic tension underneath, which really does set this apart from most meditation music. In the end it's just a really good record filled with deep drones that allow the listener to close their eyes and ignore the outside world and go to a different state. So nice.
Once again this reissue has fallen into our hands. Recorded in 1975, Lou Reed created some of the most brutal, blistering guitar noise and feedback ever heard. A four track sonic, subversive assault. The best and/or worst record in the history of rock & roll. Of course it depends on who you ask... we find it rather beautiful. Then again, several of us also own Merzboxes. And this probably *inspired* Merzbow. As well as pissing off legions of Reed/VU fans.
We know you've all be waiting for us to weigh in on one of the burning issues of our time: just how terrible IS the Lou Reed / Metallica album? Is it terrible terrible, or maybe so bad it's good (but still terrible)? Or, perhaps, like The Wire, would we be all contrary and proclaim it to actually be brilliant, not terrible? Well... let's just say that actually writing a review of Lulu is difficult 'cause simply sitting through Lulu is difficult! Imagine a random rock band (Metallica) jamming on some generic stoner riffs they wrote in like 5 minutes, while Grandpa Simpson (Lou Reed) speak-sings disturbing/cryptic/asinine lyrics from the POV of an underage girl prostitute and whatnot over the top... and it's TWO freaking discs long!
Well, even opinion here at AQ is divided... just like when Morbid Angel's Illud Divinum Insanus came out. We DO like stuff that's "fucked up" after all, and certainly this is. And there's ways in which the "transgressiveness" of this might appeal to Oxbow fans, for sure (and we're Oxbow fans). But if you're a Metallica fan... well you're a glutton for punishment already anyway at this point, and this IS better than St. Anger (what isn't)? Is it possible that Lulu is Lou Reed's laughing-all-the-way-to-the-bank joke on a clueless, desperate-to-be-artistic Metallica?
Maybe we should just cop out and say that Lulu stands outside of any conventional good/bad judgment. It's just...ludicrous. And not 'cause it's Lou Reed and Metallica, as a concept, per se. Actually, when we first heard about Lou Reed teaming up with Metallica, some of us thought it had potential. On paper. After all, Lou Reed had written songs for KISS before (on 1981's Music From The Elder) and look how that turned out. No, seriously, we dig that KISS album. And if Lou was good enough to write songs for KISS, he should be good enough to write songs for Metallica, heck they should have brought him in sooner. Or, another possibility, was that they would do a full-on noise album together, conducted by Reed: Metallica Machine Music, perhaps?! That could have been cool. Instead, we got this arty absurdity. Which, to be fair, does have its (unintentionally HILARIOUS) moments. For instance, "I Am The Table" (not the name of the song, but it should be, it's actually called "The View", after the TV talk show) is almost worth the price of admission, it's already a classic. Or, check out the very next song, "Pumping Blood", sample lyric from Reed: "Waggle my ass like a dark prostitute coagulating heart pumpin' blood... c'mon, James!"
Yes, he really says/sings that. Wow.
And if Reed's half-assed spoken word style, way-too-high-in-the-mix vox weren't ruinous enough, James Hetfield then sings backup throughout, in his usual heartfelt, gruff, rock dude croon. Singing stuff like the aforementioned, "I am the table!". The juxtaposition is, again, just so ridiculous. As is the entire album. We're not sure what's worse, when they try to do "songs" (like "Iced Honey") or when it's just Lars on the drums providing random backup for Reed's beat poetry.
Ok, it's not all laffs. Ferinstance, in the finale of the set, the whole second half of the epic 20 minute "Junior Dad" is just droning somber strings, and that's quite pretty, although that part doesn't appear to involve either the members of Metallica OR Lou Reed...
So, our "verdict": you should definitely hear this, a least a bit of it, for a laugh. But buy the thing? Well, we've got one copy, and expect to have it for a while. But please go ahead, buy it. We dare you. And when you're listening to it, try not to imagine this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PRPzElP_eSI
1972... Le Bataclan, Paris... Reed, Cale & Nico... Together one more time to give a very stoney, distant and dark performance. Until now, this was only available on crappy bootlegs. Now, finally fully released for you VU enthusiasts and completists out there. This is a no-brainer must-have.
Rick Reed isn't really doing himself any favors by calling this anthology of his electronic compositions 'Celestial Mudpie', but if you have the opportunity to sit down with the man for a drink (and you really should!), the title suits his personality perfectly. A Texas gentleman with a bawdy side to match his ever charming demeanor, Rick Reed does not exude the bookish reclusiveness one might attribute to an avid consumer and composer of delirious if occasionally claustrophobic smears of analogue electronics fashioned after the likes of Klaus Schulze, Arcane Device, and Conrad Schnitzler. It's a little strange that Reed has been off the radar here at Aquarius for all these years, as he's released a handful of recordings through Ecstatic Peace, Elevator Bath, and Beta-Lactam Ring. He's also developed a close working relationship with the avant-garde filmmaker Ken Jacobs, having scored several soundtracks. As relative newcomers to his work, we were flabbergasted at how good Reed has been over the years thanks to this fantastic compendium of works that date back from the past 2 decades. His primary instruments are Moog, sine-wave generator, and shortwave radio which must go through innumerable analogue treatments and filters before entering the domain of the digital workstation. Rarified atmospherics and spectral transmissions dominate his compositions which can start as hypnotizing electronic meditations on the music of the spheres before accelerating to a dramatic crescendo of blistered vibration, gaping drones, and some Broken Flag teeth gnashing menace found on the earlier works. He's included both tracks from a recent picture disc LP released on Elevator Bath (for those not inclined to vinyl), as well as several of those excerpted soundtracks for Ken Jacobs, plus some works dating back as far as 1986. Each of the three discs come with a hand-painted piece of artwork of densely sprayed paint, that somehow does not reek of petrochemicals. Kudos to Reed for not stinking up the joint. And kudos to Reed for such impressive work.
Somehow, we missed this one when it came out a few years back; but with Rick Reed's recent self-release from his archives dating back some 25 years, we figured you might also be as intrigued as we are in some of the other work that didn't make it onto Reed's massive and brilliant compendium Celestial Mudpie reviewed here a couple lists back. Reed hails from Texas, where he has been tinkering around with Moogs, shortwave radio, tone generators, and field recordings to construct his weighty drones. The title track on Dark Skies At Noon is an alternate version to a soundtrack that Reed composed for Ken Jacobs' film Seeing Is Believing. Jacobs, who has worked with Reed on numerous occasions over the past decade, had also used this same score for his Mountaineer Spinning film as well. The piece itself is grounded upon an industrial strength hum, the kind you would expect to hear in a nuclear power plant or some giant particle accelerator. Pierced tones, scabrous noises, and pure frequencies that have set up some unsettling standing waves here in the weirdo architecture of Aquarius all elegantly wax and wane across the surface of Reed's droning subtrata. Seeming infinite in slow-boiling currents of electricity and strangely psychedelic at times, somewhat like a cross between Emeralds and Troum. The second piece is a collaboration with former AMM member Keith Rowe, dialing in his shortwave to gather bits of static and garbled transmissions set against Reed's crawling set of analogue electronic drones. For all of Rowe's dynamic interplay of texture and noise, this is clearly a piece driven by Reed's sensibility. The finale to the album is the aptly named "Ghosts Of Energy" with its tone-bending vibrations, eerie wails of Forbidden Planet-esque electronics, and moire-patterns of sound grafted from dissonant frequencies. Altogether, this makes for an excellent collection! Elevator Bath tells us this is limited to just a hair over 300 copies.
In recent weeks, we've ballyhooed the career of Rick Reed, the Austin based composer of grimly psychedelic electronics; and now we've gotten a hold of a few copies of the picture disc he produced for Elevator Bath. Both of these track appeared on Reed's Celestial Mudpie anthology, just so you don't end up buying the same two great pieces of lazer-tone emissions... unless of course, you want to. As we've mentioned before, primary instruments are Moog, sine-wave generator, and shortwave radio which must go through innumerable analogue treatments and filters before entering the domain of the digital workstation. Rarified atmospherics and spectral transmissions dominate his compositions which can start as hypnotizing electronic meditations on the music of the spheres before accelerating to a dramatic crescendo of blistered vibration and gasping drones. Both "Dreamz" and "Blue Polz" find Reed at his best, somewhere between Emeralds steamrollered into a tectonic rumble, that Omit / K-Group collaboration of rasping analogue synths achieving LaMonte Young mantra status, and the classic ambient psyche-drone smear of Conrad Schnitzler and Cluster. Nice!
The Way Things Go is a very impressive electro-static drone anthology documenting a bunch of barely released material from the Texas gear junkie Rick Reed. This is a man who's been tinkering with vintage synths, shortwave radio, and sinewave generators for well over 25 years, woak from the classic progressive electronic sound of the likes of Klaus Schulze and Conrad Schnitzler, through the nihilism of the post-industrialists (e.g. MB, Arcane Device, John Duncan, etc.), and into post-noise constructs of liquid psychedelia from Emeralds and all of their satellite projects. In so many ways, this could have found a nice home on John Elliott's Spectrum Spools imprint, but Reed stays with the ever impressive Elevator Bath.
There is some overlap between this collection and the self-published Celestial Mudpie album that Reed issued a couple years back. In particular, there's Reed's very evocative and chilling soundtrack to the Ken Jacobs film Capitalism: Child Labor that is an intense piece of tonal vibration, slipping from Andromeda Strain styled pulses upon rotating layers of a atonal hums, arching drones, and nervous lines of analogue static. Another high profile soundtrack is "Hidden Voices Pt 1." which was composed for the Hermann Nitsch gallery exhibit "The Orgies Mysetries Theater" in Houston back in 2005. This track contains the bloodcurdling atonality that Nitsch composes for his own aktions, but Reed twists the stratified dissonance with deep space blorp, shards of Birchville-esque distortion, and shortwave SSB detunings. The whole album follows suit with muffed static cracklings amidst radioactive clouds of analogue fired tone float, sulking at times into a melancholy atmosphere but always immensely complex. Very highly recommended stuff, and yes this does come with a download card. Nice.
A really lovely tape from the anonymous Reedbeds who seems to be a one-person pastoral ambient project for guitar, synth, and looping pedals. It's pretty easy to confuse some of these tracks with those from Mark McGuire's earlier cassettes and albums, in the delicate interplay of drone-strum and repeating melancholy melodies that gradually evolves over the long arcing passages cast in hues of sodden blues and damp greens. Through the four tracks on this 44 minute cassette, Reedbeds maintains an unhurried and understated pace to their work with plenty of space for the repeating patterns to wrap their tendrils around other loops, keeping true to minor-key ambience and glum romanticism of these mesmerizing blissout guitar jams. Just 100 copies from the Hooker Vision imprint run by Rachel and Grant Evans of Motion Sickness of Time Travel and Nova Scotia Arms separately, or Quiet Evenings collectively.
An old drum kit. Homemade amps. A dented old trombone. A bucket and a handful of firecrackers. The Reeks make a sound that is otherworldly. Dark and stumbling, folk-flecked basement blues. A mix of woozy slide guitar, swampy trombone, sparse and erratic percussion, tape hiss, amp buzz, shortwave interference and dark doomy brilliance. Like a ghostly, indie rock New Orleans funeral jazz band or Roland S. Howard fronting the Dead C. Haunting, mesmerizing, gorgeously raucous, dreamily creepy and absolutely unlike anything you have ever heard.
For years the Reeks played all up and down the West Coast, in basements, back porches, living rooms, pizza parlours, with only a 12" record and a battered old suitcase full of hand dubbed cassettes to their name, spreading their warm cloak of pulsing, droning creepy crawly throb over anyone lucky enough to be packed into the same sweaty space. At once jubilant and danceable, but at the same time, dark and lugubrious, ominous and somnabulent. Lovers of weird music couldn't get enough, but eventually, even dyed in the wool indie rockers began to embrace the Reeks, having perhaps found something that still smacked of their beloved indie rock, but was a little darker and a whole lot weirder than they were used to. But by then it was too late.
The release of Knife Hits is truly bittersweet. After years of recording and re-recording, mixing and remixing, when Knife Hits was finally ready to be released, and the rest of the world would finally get to hear the Reeks' amazing off kilter avant indie funeral folk, tragedy struck. Orion Satushek, Reeks mainman, guitar player, instrument builder and one of the nicest guys ever, was hit and killed by a drunk driver. The personal loss, is indescribable, a deep sting everytime we think about him, his band, his music, his friendship. And the loss to music, to the music community, is immeasurable. Years of playing, and practicing and rocking and sweating in tiny cramped basements and doing with a crappy old drum kit and a couple of homemade amps what most bands can't do with all the equipment in the world is somehow all crammed onto this single disc. These ten songs. The passion, the playfulness, the dark moodiness, the spaced out droniness, the wild sweaty chaos, the sheer joy of making an unholy racket. This record is not only a totally unique chunk of damaged outsider rock brilliance, but it's also a fitting tribute to the loss of a very special friend.
We miss you, Orion.
Longtime readers of the aQ list and fans of Andee's tUMULt label are no doubt familiar with the late great Bellingham Washington band Reeks And The Wrecks, their Knife Hits record on tUMULt still amazes and confounds, but will forever be tainted by a tinge of sadness, as Reeks guitarist Orion Satushek was killed by a drunk driver right before the record was released. Knife Hits stands as an amazing tribute to the man and his talent, and few bands have managed since to create something as wholly original.
Recently PRND were in town, which just so happens to feature another former Reeks member, and in addition to their amazing cd-r (which we have reviewed elsewhere on this week's list), he had copies of the 'lost' first Reeks lp, so we took a whole bunch cuz odds are most folks even big fans have not heard this, and it's a doozy, chronicling the band at a very early stage when they were equal parts dark stumbling funereal folk blues and wild chaotic math rock, a strange combination, that sounds as good now as it ever did.
Our description of Knife Hits pretty much applies to these recordings too: "An old drum kit. Homemade amps. A dented old trombone. A bucket and a handful of firecrackers. The Reeks make a sound that is otherworldly. Dark and stumbling, folk-flecked basement blues. A mix of woozy slide guitar, swampy trombone, sparse and erratic percussion, tape hiss, amp buzz, shortwave interference and dark doomy brilliance. Like a ghostly, indie rock New Orleans funeral jazz band or Roland S. Howard fronting the Dead C. Haunting, mesmerizing, gorgeously raucous, dreamily creepy and absolutely unlike anything you have ever heard." Hard to resist, huh? Well, don't. You won't be sorry. The sound is gorgeous and chaotic and mournful and weirdly full of life and energy. And those sounds are balanced on this lp by the other side of the band that seemed to fade as the band moved forward, loose chaotic post/math rock blow outs, angular crunchy guitars, wild octopoidal drumming, the moody funereal side definitely dominated, but when the band exploded into those heavier parts, it only made them sound that much heavier.
Also, the pressing of this lp is a weird old one, the records themselves are a bit weird, so it's SUPER noisy, not sure how much of it is the pressing, and how much is the awesomely ramshackle lo-fi recording, but whatever it is, it suits them, with the sound erupting into weird squalls of surface noise, lots of hiss and buzz, the band were total DIY, they even had a song that included setting off firecrackers in a bucket, which means, embrace the noise and the low fidelity, and uptight vinyl nerds KEEP AWAY.
One of the greatest bands EVER!!! And this record RULES.
R.I.P. Orion.
Comes in a super swank silkscreened red ink on brown cardstock sleeve.
We like a label that is totally upfront about their intentions, no beating around the bush, a label like 100 Copies, who are simply and succinctly letting us know, that this is in fact, a drastically limited release, and once we run out, we will not be able to get more. So be warned, we tried to order a ton of these, and ended up with a little more than a dozen. So why should you care? Well for the 12 or 13 of you who are quickest on the BUY IT NOW button, the work of Mahmoud Refat is a series of soundscapes crafted from the sounds of daily life in Egypt, conversations, calls to prayer, street musicians, portable power stations, the sounds of children playing, the bustling market, all woven into fuzzy glitchy dronescapes, some dark and lugubrious and barely moving, others skittering and looped sounding, while still others are funky jazzy Autechre-ish jams. Chopped up voices, sampled instruments, soft indistinct drifts of ambient sound, ultra minimal abstract glitch and rumbling cavernous whirs all woven into a gorgeously mesmerizing whole, from the distinct sonic threads of people's lives, halfway around the world.
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES (duh) and we have less than ten...
We knew pretty much nothing about this band, other than Rock Is Hell put it out. So of course we were sort of expecting some wild, angular skronky psychedelic damaged art rock, but nothing could be further from the truth. And truth be told we're far from disappointed. In fact, this record has been kicking our asses big time.
Another guitar and drums duo, but instead of Lightning Bolt style freakout or Godheadsilo pummel, these guys spit out an incredible, dense and tangled and ultra heavy 18 minute math rock epic. What sounds like 5 or 6 songs sewn together, the band kicks out the jams like we wish more bands would, channeling the spirit of nineties math rock through a more modern metal perspective. Heavy, groovy, hypnotic, complex, we hear lots of Dutch instrumetallers Gore, as well as long time aQ faves Fuehler, the drums are incredible, relentless, and precise, but with just enough wild abandon to keep things on edge, the guitar is crunchy and thick, the riffs hooky enough that vocals are not at all necessary, going from tangled and thrashy to sludgey and doomy, the band lurching and grooving and pounding and grinding out some of the most bad ass heavy metal instrumental math rock madness we've heard in ages.
The packaging is pretty stellar too, a thick folded over sleeve, revealing most of the record itself, the lp pressed on thick clear vinyl, one sided, with a striking image of an angelic woman silkscreened on the flipside. Nice!
Record number two from this mysterious metallic math rock band. Reflector's first record Flugangst was a surprise hit around here, a crunching math metal juggernaut, perpetrated by the now ubiquitous guitar/drums/no bass lineup, but Reflector certainly didn't suffer for it. Heavy and complex and brooding and massive, with plenty of doomy slow core bits and shimmery drone-y drifts.
If anything, Pass takes everything we liked about Flugangst and cranks it up, the sound is incredible, lush and thick and expansive, REALLY hard to believe they're a bass-less two piece here, the guitars are hard and dense and chuggy, the drums crushing, the two locked into killer grooves, Neurosis like lumbering plod one second, super tangled post rock weirdness the next, even some slow motion Slayer riffing here and there.
It's criminal these guys aren't huge, they should be touring with Mastodon and Baroness and all those low slung bearded sludgelords, but this ain't sludge (although they are perfectly capable of getting plenty sludge-y!), this is almost some sort of pop infused downtuned metal, shot through with plenty of post rock mathisms, strange textures, catchy melodies, and riffs that KILL.
We don't have a whole lot of these, so if we run out be patient, we have to get more from overseas, but hell, anyone into slow and low heaviness, or the new breed of post / math / metal / gaze / whatever, these guys could very well be your new favorite band.
This is record number three from these aQ faves, a metallic math rock duo whose sound is pretty much the perfect hybrid of all the heavy stuff we like, a sprawling, dizzying collection of tangled metallic, dirgey instrumental grooves, woozy post rock drift, strange almost operatic epicness, plenty of warped experimentation, lots of texture, and tranced out mesmer, although technically it's not a collection, as this is in fact a single song, spread out over both sides of the record, but as with any 29 minute song, it's essentially, a bunch of different parts, or even different songs woven into one single epic.
The A side starts off all droney and creepy, before the thick buzz bass and skittery drums come in, eventually exploding into a killer sprawl of almost stonery riffage, psychedelic and groovy, heavy as hell, we can almost picture wailing vocals over the top, but these guys are mostly instrumental, so instead, they continue to rock out sans vox, the vibe more trancey than rocking. As the song unwinds, things get way more mathy and complex, super dynamic, at times sounding like some impossible hybrid of Neurosis and the Fucking Champs, which is obviously not at all a bad thing. The last part of the A side is all loping post rock heaviness, super hypnotic and cyclical, before the guitars drop out completely, and the last 90 seconds are just drums.
The flipide starts off right where the A side ended, it is the same song after all, the solo drum fills, tribal and spaced out, building a framework of keening feedback, some piano (!), ominous and brooding, tinkling chimes, and then POW, the song explodes into some seriously crushing riffage, utterly crushing and eminently headbangable. The sound gets mathier, and then the vocals come in for the first time more sort of spoken word at first, and then a second vocal, which sounds like a processed female vox, and gives the sound a seriously psychedelic, almost dream poppy vibe, at least briefly, soon the song erupts into another stretch of chugging heaviness, and eventually explodes into a final sprawl of galloping double kick driven, riffy metal crush. Fucking awesome. No idea why these guys aren't more popular. Maybe third times the charm.
This comes with a download code too. But we thought we should mention, it's a 32 CHARACTER DOWNLOAD CODE!!!! Took us three tries to get it entered right, good grief! Pressed on lovely pale blue vinyl, with a full color printed cardstock insert.
Here's a new-to-us volume of the Dynamophone Folio series! We've known that this Bay Area label features some of the prettiest drone music around, both of the experimental and more pop leaning kind. The Refractors are a fine addition to the fold. So soothing and mesmerizing. An angelic female voice surfaces on the second song, and whispery murmurs materialize at later points in the proceedings. The tracks with the added vocal dimension are definitely our faves of the release, although the rest of the dozen tracks are mighty lovely too! This cd compiles eight recordings circa 2001-2008, as well as reissues four numbers from the label's now out of print 2009 Parcel 3" cdr series.
I've loved Refrigerator for so long that hearing a new album from them is like replacing one warm blanket with another. This lonesome downer rock quartet fronted by LA's Callaci brothers is back with one of their most upbeat albums yet... but don't let
Refrigerator is woefully under represented on the aQ site, with 5 records listed (of the 20 or so full lengths, singles, eps and cassettes they've released in the last 20+ years) most without reviews, and the ones that do have a review only get a sentence or two. Which is strange, cuz we've always been fans, and we've always felt a definite kinship between Shrimper and aQuarius. Amps For Christ, Franklin Bruno, Nothing Painted Blue, Dump, Mountain Goats, Sebadoh, Wckr Spgt, Soul Junk, Bugskull, John Davis, Pork Queen, Simon Joyner, Good Horsey, Herman Dune, Woods and of course Shrimper flagship band Refrigerator.
And we always considered Refrigerator vocalist Allen Callaci one of the most underappreciated vocalists in the underground, his voice so soulful and emotive and passionate, on the verge of cracking, always sounding like it's about to slip into a falsetto, but instead, it's simply high and clear, pure and plaintive, and so perfectly matched to the group's gorgeous, melancholy downer lo-fi pop.
Dangerous is an odd first Refrigerator record to finally get the aQ love it deserves, as it's not a proper new full length, instead, it's a collection of demos, intended to be expanded into a proper electric full band record, but after a band member's injury and gradual recovery, by the time they went back to work on new music, the band were itching to work on new songs, but it was decided the demos were to good to just let slip through the cracks, so they became Dangerous, and even in stripped down demo form, this is some seriously gorgeous, moving, emotional music. Just check out the first track, "Be Positive", which just might be the sweetest, saddest, most heart wrenchingly lovely song we've heard in ages. Allen Callaci's vocals impossibly gorgeous, the melodies so perfect, the whole song only benefiting from the minimal instrumentation. And from there on out, it's just another classic, practically perfect Refrigerator record, lovely, soft souled song after darkly intimate song, all minimal strum, subtle percussion, more about the arrangements and melodies and those vocals, a gorgeous collection of lo-fi folk pop that few can pull off the way these guys can. We've been listening to this non stop, and that first song is definitely one of our favorite tracks of the year so far. With more joining that one the more we listen!
All the songs were recorded live too, with no overdubs (they were demos after all) which only adds to the immediate/intimate vibe. Also includes guest spots from Nothing Painted Blue's Franklin Bruno (who wrote one song, and sings on two), as well as a couple songs written by Refrigerator drummer Chris Jones. Includes a booklet with liner notes and lyrics too.
