[ aquarius records catalogue

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Showing results 1651 through 1700 of 1910.

Experimental folk music for moonlit nights. Tucker, multi-instrumentalist and member of Ginnungagap, has a voice that fits nicely between Ben Chasny and Brian Eno, however most of Furrowed Brow is instrumental. These long cyclical numbers fall between melodic acoustic guitar progressions with melodicas and spacey keyboards and out-music workouts of clarinet and guitar distortion. Perfect for a moody and mind-altering evening around the campfire.

MPEG stream: Spout Of Light
MPEG stream: Saddest Summer

MPEG stream: Hag Stones
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Last year was an exciting one for Sleater Kinney fans, as three members reemerged in new projects. Corin Tucker on her own, and Carrie Brownstein and Janet Weis together in the super group Wild Flag. While the Wild Flag record was pretty great, as was Tucker's solo debut, neither managed to reach the level of total exuberance that Sleater Kinney created back in the day. But Kill My Blues is a whole 'nother story, as Tucker's sophomore full length is brimming with the sort of passion, guts, sweat, smarts, and energy that made Sleater Kinney so special. On Kill My Blues, we discover that despite her friend and ex-bandmate Carrie Brownstein's new found fame from her hit show Portlandia and her more visible role in Wild Flag, it is indeed Tucker who holds the keys to the musical magic that made so many of us fall in love with SK in the first place. Sure Brownstein always looked more cool, and stole the spotlight on stage with her awesome moves, but it's the guttural howl of Tucker's voice, the wail of her guitar, and her intense delivery in general that really provides the knockout punch. Kill My Blues is as focused as any record that SK made. Tucker sounds impassioned and confident, her songs exploding with sparkling velocity, punk energy, and crazy catchy melodies. Highly recommended!

MPEG stream: Groundhog Day
MPEG stream: Kill My Blues
MPEG stream: Joey

This early '70s hard rock band's claim to fame may have been that they were proteges of manager / producer Bill Wyman (whom you might know as the bass player from a band called the Rolling Stones). But that's not the reason we were interested in hearing this double-cd Tucky Buzzard set -- it was 'cause of that name of theirs, Tucky Buzzard. Tucky Buzzard! We just like saying it. Turns out that with a name like Tucky Buzzard you can't go wrong. That is, if you like a mixture of '70s proto-metal a la Led Zeppelin, '60s pop-psych, symphonic prog, and Southern style barroom boogie! Which of course we do, when it's all done with the panache of a Tucky Buzzard. Time Will Be Your Doctor's two discs contain Tucky Buzzard's first three (of five) albums in their entirety. There's ten tracks from 1971's eponymous debut, nine cuts from their 2nd album Warm Slash (also 1971), and the five tracks (including the lengthy, proggy suite of the title track, performed with the Madrid Philharmonic Orchestra) from 1972's Coming On Again, the rarest of Tucky Buzzard LPs as it was recorded and released only in Spain, where these Brits had been popular since their days in a '60s psych outfit called The End. They also drew some notice in the USA, where they toured opening for Uriah Heep and Deep Purple. Doubtless their burly boogie grooves and most metallic Led Zeppish material -- full-tilt riffy rockers with high wailing Plant-like vox -- went over best in front of those crowds (such as many of the tracks from Warm Slash, like "Heartbreaker", "Fill You In", "Mistreatin' Woman" and "Burnin'"). But all three albums also have their share of moody melodiousness and sunny '60s pop-psych stylings too. The song that gives this set its name, "Time Will Be Your Doctor", the lead-off track on their first album, is a wonderful slice of poppy, polished, pastoral vocal-harmony-rich grooviness. Another standout track, from Coming On Again, is "You're All Alone", a trembling beauty that could be from a Colin Blunstone (Zombies) solo album. They went on through the mid-seventies to record another two albums that we haven't yet heard. But, despite the patronage of Rolling Stone Wyman, Tucky Buzzard never became much of a "buzz" band apparently. Nor did they achieve the cult stoner-status of the equally Zep-influenced, legendary Leaf Hound, for instance. But if you like Leaf Hound, or other early '70s "heavy" acts that also have a lighter side, you should check out this nicely done collection! Tucky Buzzard!

MPEG stream: Time Will Be Your Doctor
MPEG stream: Heartbreaker
MPEG stream: You're All Alone

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Electronic music from composer pianist David Tudor, realized at the Center for Contemporary Music at Mills College in 1973. Two tracks, consisting of two different mixes, each 27 minutes and 30 seconds in length. Unfortunately the liner notes are all in Italian, but judging from the schematics included in the booklet and the sound of the recording the process appears to function as such: two boxes, each containing a speaker and two microphones, are set up in a feed back loop. Integrated into this loop are several devices for processing the envelope of the sound, gain, etc. resulting in swells of reverberant feedback drone which are constantly shifting in timbre and color. Not unlike Arcane Device.

Fans of Ms Tujiko, it's time to rejoice. One of her early releases has been reissued with extras! Perhaps you're wonderin' what happened to the original? Well, a short time ago (12/2005) the fine Austria experimental electronic music label Mego sadly bit the dust. Fortunately an even shorter time ago (1/2006!) Electronic artist Pita (aka Peter Rehberg) brought the label and select titles back from the edge of oblivion under the new moniker Editions Mego. Hurrah! Back in 2001 when we carried the original release we briefly summed it up in this way: Temperate electronica, pretty ditties rest on cyclic heaving -- some dismantled soul and some traditional-ish Japanese vocals. Allow us to elaborate a bit more this time around: Each track gently drifts to and fro with layer upon layer of chiming musicbox style melodies, more beefy sturdy thud-pulse rhythms, and gauzily effected breathy vocals that waver between curious child, coltish girl and soulful woman. This album predates Tujiko's very Bjork period (2002's Make Me Hard and 2003's From Tokyo To Niagara), but ties in well with her more distinct recent recordings (the spacious Blurred In my Mirror and the lovely 28). Richly textured in pastel watercolors. FYI: The first fourteen tracks are from the original release, and tracks 11 through 15 were previously pressed into vinyl for her "I Forgot The Title" 12".

MPEG stream: White Film
MPEG stream: Pop Skirt

Moving further away from those 'Japanese Bjork' comparisons which have (not unjustly) followed her through her past releases, Ms Tujiko's latest album presents her fresh, new, increasingly vaporous, softly glitchy electronic tracks for our enjoyment. Indeed, Blurred In My Mirror is considerably more spacious and less 'concrete' but no less finely crafted than her past releases. Perhaps it's the influence of collaborator Lawrence English who composed and performed most of the electronic tracks this time around, while she focussed more on lyrics. Her vocals verge on stream-of-consciousness, surfacing here and there sung or spoken in her native tongue. Fluttery, airborne loveliness.

MPEG stream: Niagara Hospital
MPEG stream: Tablet For Memory

After three albums for Mego on which her vocal delivery drew progressively (and eerily) closer and closer to that of Bjork, Tujiko Noriko gracefully hops over to the Tomlab label and subtly shifted her overall sound. For one thing, the vocal resemblance to Ms Gudmundsdottir is much less pronounced. Singing in both Japanese and English, her lilting murmurs and sighs are backed by glistening shards of minimal pulses and veils of softly muted drones. Check out the dreamy almost-ceremonial procession of "Mugen Kyuukou". Sheer prettiness.

MPEG stream: Mugen Kyuukou
MPEG stream: Robot Hero

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. SORRY. It would be very easy and all too dismissive to simply say: Tujiko, Noriko is like a craftily fragmented Japanese Bjork. Granted that is what immediately springs to mind when hearing the first track of her fourth release (her third for Mego), but delve a little further and you'll be rewarded with a more defined idea of her own sparkling magical loveliness. If you're not familiar with Ms Tujiko, that initial description does give you a basic sense of her sound - an endless building up and stripping away of layer upon layer of swooping childlike vocals, swirling dreamy washes and delicate melody fragments. Her singing also brings to mind Kate Bush as well as the criminally undersung Canadian art pop singer Jane Siberry (check out the seventh song! apologies, I couldn't locate its title). Alternately soft'n'breathy, often almost birdlike, and considerably more robust. Furthermore, the title (in Japanese: Hard Ni Sasete) certainly doesn't evoke visions of her fantastic electronic dream pop world. Make Me Hard. Huh? Puzzling! The packaging consists of nine loose individual square panels of photography, collages, liner notes and lyrics, but be sure to bring your Japanese translator along for the ride 'cause it's all in Japanese.

RealAudio clip: track 7

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Temperate electronica, pretty ditties rest on cyclic heaving -- some dismantled soul and some traditional-ish Japanese vocals.

As the title states, this is a new album by Ms Noriko Tujiko on her own. Following recent fine collaborations with the likes of Lawrence English and Aoki Takamasa, Solo offers up more unstructured gossamer wisps of Japanese electronica coupled with her Bjork-esque cooed vocals. Her albums are like flipping through old photo albums or alternately like looking out the window of a train, catching glimpses of faces and passing scenery. So nice.

MPEG stream: Magic
MPEG stream: No Error In My Memory

Tujurikkuja is the name of an Estonian television series which has run from 2008 to the present as a skit comedy show with a heavy slant towards the parody of other cultural forms coming from the both the east and the west into that tiny Baltic country. Nope, we've not seen it either; but the title translates as 'spoilsport' or 'party pooper'; and those Estonians have already been in touch with the San Franciscan project of the same name to pull down some videos they've posted to YouTube. The SF Tujurikkuja is a meeting of the minds for Chris Dixon (Earth Jerks, Death Sentence Panda, etc.) and Joshua Kit Clayton; and its hard to say which Tujurikkuja might the bigger killjoy, as the two tracks found on this 10" are bristling with dour and crumpled sicktones of heavy tape compression, skeletal micro-rhythm, sinewave generation, and dumptrucks full of hiss. At times, these two cuts possess the same lo-fi industrial hypnosis that we heard on the most recent Thought Broadcast tape; but there's the affirmation of a psychedelic tea glowing amidst those sinewaves these two are slowly surfing as heard in Dixon's recent spate of Earth Jerks short programmed releases. Like those outings, we can really submerge into the murky sounds of Tujurikkuja and hope that something longer will be forthcoming. But for now, there's a step up from the lathe-cut 7" from the first release to a full-fledged 10". Dixon mentions this was cut to heard at 45rpm, but yeah, we'll agree that it also sounds pretty damn awesome and even creepier at 33. Check it.

MPEG stream: Section 414-3.2
MPEG stream: Section 614-2.2

Tujurikkuja is a meeting of San Francisco musical minds, namely Kit Clayton and Chris Dixon. It has been a very long time since we've heard anything from Clayton, the digital wunderkid who recorded a handful of deliriously glitched-out dub albums around the turn of the millennium and also ran the highly influential Orthlong Musork imprint which released work by Stephan Mathieu, Blectum From Blechdom, Akira Rabelais, AGF, Timeblind, and Gold Chains. While he hasn't released much of anything in the past six or seven years, he does perform here in the Bay Area mining the gaps of audiovisual errata as well as DJ-ing full-frontal techno sets. His partner in the Estonio-phonically named Tujurikkuja has recently been copping a dour drone-noise pose under the guise Earth Jerks, but he's long been a noisenik artrocker in Death Sentence Panda and Murder Murder. This one-sided lathe-cut 7" sports a spaced-out electro-drone mantra with Dixon churning through a shoegazing riff muffled through a mountain of cotton candy FX, and with Clayton delicately layering analogue (or seemingly analogue) electronic tones and drones throughout. Very lovely stuff; and we do hope to hear more from Tujurukkuja very soon. For those who care about such things, the lathe was cut at Funky Frankenstein the heart of middle Tennessee on a sheet of polycarbonate which shouldn't degrade or do any damage to the needle. Limited to 50 copies!

MPEG stream: Om De Nimic

We were WAY over glitchy laptronica when Tuk's Shallow Water Blackout knocked us upside the head a few lists back and demonstrated that just cuz some sound was played to death, didn't mean that amazing things couldn't still be done with it. That Diskont itch that seemingly only Oval could scratch, had been getting itchier without us even knowing it, who would have realized we had been secretly hankering for a gitched up stuttery underseascape of burble and skitter, of muted rhythm and haunted melody. Well we were and Shallow Water Blackout hit she spot, and good! So much so that we figured we oughta track down Tuk's previous record, Proud Princess Of A Brand New City, and dang if it ain't just as purty! In fact, it might even actually be a little bit prettier, definitely more serene and subdued, a little bit more musical. The rapid fire chop and splice and reassemble of Shallow Water Blackout is still present but in smaller measures. There's a bit more of a minimal angle, it's much more melodic and dreamy, rife with low drones and mumbled melody, and more actual instrumentation. It's got a fuzzy sort of sheen that has us thinking even more of groups like Jasper TX and Machinefabriek than the new one did. Our favorite track might just be "German Holidays", beginning with a simple sad, guitar line, it's quickly surrounded by bits of glitchy ambience, clouds of record crackle and weird disembodied buzz, but it's about halfway through where it gets really good, suddenly, in comes some distorted guitar, eighties cop show, made for TV movie music, looped into a super Circular rhythm with breathy background vocals and streaks of glistening feedback, it sort of krautrocks along before it begins to deteriorate, the riff getting more and more distorted, the melodies beginning to crumble, beautiful and haunting, and surprisingly super catchy. Those sorts of unlikely musical moments continue to surface throughout the record, suspended in Tuk's wide open fields of blissy glitch and whirring warble, making us want to just curl up and drift off...

MPEG stream: Sensational Soft
MPEG stream: John Carpenter
MPEG stream: German Holidays

Most of us got kind of bored by the whole laptop revolution years ago. Nerds checking their emails while some sound program runs basically on its own, a cascade of bleeps and bloops and glitches. Electronica, intelligent dance music, glitchcore, glitchtronica, what-the-fuck-ever. There have been exceptions of course, and some folks can most certainly turn a crappy old laptop into a wheezing world of wonder, or an alien symphony. One of our all time favorite 'glitch' records would have to be Oval's Diskont, a gorgeous murky underwater soundscape of burbling beauty and glistening shimmer, all woven together from digital glitch in the form of skipping compact discs. Few records since then have managed to bridge the massive gap between technical tomfoolery and emotional resonance. But damn if this latest (and first as far as we know) from Guillaume Graux, aka Tuk doesn't come damn close. Unlike Diskont, Tuk's Shallow Water Blackout isn't all dreamy bliss and soft focus flutter, instead Graux weaves super dense tangles of sound, organic and otherwise. The most notable sonic elements are traditional instruments, acoustic guitars, piano, harps, organs, but it's what he does with them... chopping and stretching, twisting and tweaking, long stretches of skips and stutters somehow coalesce into strangely haunting minor key melodies, occasionally getting all backed up into huge crunchy, super dynamic rhythms, but not dance music rhythms, more sort of 'song' rhythms. The opener is the perfect example. What begins sounding like Hill Street Blues or Christopher Cross given a Jeckian muted mumbled abstract dream fuzz makeover, gets more and more dark and moodily melodic, bookended by these amazing math rock style stop/start arrangements, where huge blasts of fuzzy ambience give way to utter silence, only to burst back into motion again, the glitchy electronic equivalent to the hardcore breakdown maybe. With the same physically powerful affect. And the whole record continues in that fashion, gorgeous chopped and reassembled minor key guitar tangles, bits of piano and random song fragments, peppered with digital crunch, of course plenty of glitch, loads of fuzz and hiss and crackle, all perfectly interacting and transforming the organic elements. Graux most definitely has a deft hand at composing and songwriting. These are not just huge messes of sound, these are actual songs, dark and beautiful, with an internal logic, a sonic story, a melodic journey through a weird world of dissected and strangely reassembled pop music. Much like labelmate Ignatz, who constantly reimagine and reinvent Appalachia and Delta blues, creating a whole new sound, Tuk do something similar with electronic music, coming up with a sound that is neither cold nor unemotional, not dance-y or really in any way groovy, but instead is some weird futuristic mood music, weirdly emotional mysteriously ominous and so so lovely. Think Oval, Chris Clark, Jeck, Tim Hecker, Pierre Bastien, Dialing In, Part Timer, Machinefabriek, Jasper Texas, Grouper... So pretty...

MPEG stream: Low Carb Love
MPEG stream: Stilnox Parties

The Profound Lore label begins what we hope will be an extensive reissue campaign, focusing on some of the more obscure members of the Twilight Black Circle, a tightly knit USBM scene/collective based in Southern California, similar in sound/spirit to the legendary French Black Legions (Mutiilation, Vlad Tepes, etc.), which counts bands like Dolorvotre, Volahn, Blue Hummingbird On The Left, Ashdautas, Arizmenda and others among its members. Tukaaria, which is an Yaqui word meaning 'the night', is another one man band, whose sound, like many of his Twilight Black Circle brethren, is raw and repetitive, but unlike the lush layered chaos of Odz Manouk, whose reissue can be found elsewhere on this week's list, Tukaaria is definitely more on the primitive and old school side, churning murky riffage, and furious stumbling blasts, but this primitivism is tempered with a seriously experimental bent, that manifests in strange and subtle ways, introducing plenty of warped weirdness, and providing a bizarre production/arrangement that make the sound something altogether different than your run of the mill black metal. Repetition is a big part of Tukaaria's sound, with the sound constantly locking into long stretches of looped black mesmer, whether it's blurred churning riffage, or slippery tangled melodies, it's all driven by urgent, on-the-verge-of-collapse drumming, the vocals a buried in the mix demonic rasp, those drums flat and weirdly produced, set amidst a landscape of echo drenched droned out riffage, muddy, and blurry, and hazy, and woozily washed out, the vibe almost psychedelic, definitely mesmerizing, total tranced out black buzz bliss, with the sound occasionally splintering into something more melodic, more textured and spaced out, but seemingly always returning to something heady and heavy and hypnotic, a murky and mesmerizing. This cd reissue of Raw To The Rapine includes the 2011 full length of the same name, and tacks on the Tukaaria tracks from a 2011 split with Odz Manouk and his 2010 split with Volahn. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES, housed in a super swank oversized A5 book style digipak!

MPEG stream: Origins
MPEG stream: Raw To The Rapine
MPEG stream: Chasms In Creation

Last list we highlighted two somewhat unusual "surf music" reissues, by Farm and Peter Martin & Finch, both brought to us by our favorite Japanese reissue label, EM Records, as part of their Summer 2007 "EM Under Water Series"! Those were quite cool, and now we've got the remaining three discs in the series, all of 'em (like those first two) soundtracks to several now-legendary surfing movies from back in the sixties/seventies. With the exception of Farm (from the USA) all the bands in EM's series are Australian, and in all cases the movies they were doing soundtracks for were Australian productions and/or featured Australian surfers. And as before, this isn't your typical SoCal Jan & Dean, Beach Boys style surf music... it's *psychedelic* surf music. Well 2 out of 3 of these anyway (the Tim Gaze Band album being more of a yacht rock outing). Tully were apparently a pretty successful sixties rock act in their native Australia, despite playing total "head" music, not anything you could boogie to. They were popular enough to do a TV show, and even played with the Sydney Orchestra! They came from the same "alternative surf" scene as Tamam Shud, and were just as musically progressive, having the freedom to develop their material while touring as the backing band for an Australian production of "Hair", getting into poncho-garbed spirituality and electronic experiments (being the first band Down Under to possess a Moog). Somewhere along the way they merged membership with acid folk outfit Extradition, before recording their very freeform second album, this one, the 1971 soundtrack to Sea Of Joy, a surf movie directed by Paul Witzig (same guy who shot Evolution, for which Tamam Shud did the soundtrack). Angelic female vocals, gentle organ grooves, hippie folk blissfulness, mellow instrumental textures -- it's truly glorious, lovely stuff. Quite exploratory too, with a freeform, organic feel. Tully's Sea Of Joy can be sunshiney (quite literally, on songs like "I Feel The Sun" and "Brother Sun") one moment, almost spooky the next (on such sinisterly electronics-laden tracks as "Follow Me" and "Down To The Sea"). And their interest in Eastern Indian mysticism comes through on the raga-like "Syndrone", for instance. EM says this moody, mesmeric album is the one in the series that's been selling best for them, and we're not surprised.

MPEG stream: Sea Of Joy (Pt.1)
MPEG stream: Follow Me
MPEG stream: I Feel The Sun

Girl/boy noisepop from Seattle.

There's definitely a knack to crafting, moody, sweeping post rock epics, sure any one can string together a few minor key chords, add a little rhythmic shuffle and whip it all up into slow building crescendos, but much like drone music, or black metal, or anything really, it's not the being able to do it, it's the being able to do it in some super special way. To make it sound at once warm and familiar, but alien and challenging. That part is tough. Richmond, Virginia's Tulsa Drone pull it off big time, with a sound that is epic and majestic, a gloomy, metal-tinged post rock Appalachia, mesmerizing, droney, slightly twangy, incredibly spacious, with a definite deserty vibe, due in no small part to the instrumentation. Sure the arrangements are ace, evoking all sorts of wide open vistas and barren landscapes, but the fact that these guys augment their bass / drums / guitars lineup with harmonica, slide guitar, theremin and most importantly (and uniquely) hammered dulcimer is what really seals the deal. We can't really even think of another rock band with a dulcimer player, but after spending some time with this disc, there sure as hell should be more. Lots more. The sound of that instrument is so organic, and meshes so well with the more traditional rock instruments, but is also weirdly buzzy and percussive, and has much to do with TD's unique sound. Each song here is spacious, expansive, brooding, dreamy and lovely, with looping moody melodies, motorik rhythms, haunting harmonicas, wheezing out dusty distant textures, the drums simple but expressive, the guitar unfurling languid smokey melodies, lots of twang and shimmer, bit of Morricone for sure, the slower sultrier tracks sounding a bit like some Dirty Three post rock threnody, darkly dramatic, but with harmonica instead of violin. A few songs even feature vocals, but instead of mucking up a perfect instrumental record, they add another unique and gorgeously haunting element, the vocals, delivered in a deep Nick Cave like croon, wrapped in billowy reverb, only add to the mystery and moodiness of Tulsa Drone's windswept desert crawl. So good.

MPEG stream: Monongahela
MPEG stream: Risk Guitar
MPEG stream: We'll Take Oregon Hill

Last year we totally raved about this Norwegian black metal band's Cold Core Collection, which was a double cd anthology of their eldritch early works, from back in the mid/late nineties before they changed their name to Khold and became our favorite grunge-inflected (Nirvana, anyway) buzzing black metal act. At the time, we mentioned that Tulus had just reunited (with Khold going into hibernation or something), and had a new album out too, called Biography Obscene, which we promised to review soon... well you know how things go. But the truth is, we really did dig their new album, so better late than never! Unlike the lo-fi necroness of the earliest Cold Core material, the *new* Tulus is in the more polished vein of the Khold stuff, but with some twists. Biography Obscene is a cruel yet catchy slab of rockin' grimness and (dare we say) grooviness that takes the thick, chugging, killer riffage that Khold was known for and drags them into much weirder, artier, proggier territory. They've got a "chamber metal" thing happening, with piano, violin, organ, and even some non-sucky (really) saxophone on a couple of the tracks. In fact, what sounds like a veritable horn section on the title cut. It's never wimpy, though! They may be tickling the ivories or playing flamenco guitar licks, but it's always in the midst of ultra serious, pounding black metal filth. It's kinda like Darkthrone, Mayhem or old Samael mixed with a bit of '70s progsters Van Der Graaf Generator. Maybe hint of post punkers w/ sax Essential Logic too for a few moments on that title track when the usual gravelly vokill delivery is doubled by some screechy new wavey female vox... well we could be stretching it there. But anyway we think AQ customers into weird black metal (that would be quite a few of you) will find Biography Obscene of interest. Heck, this ain't just "interesting", it's darn headbanging too!! Recommended.

MPEG stream: Natal Day
MPEG stream: Stories Untold
MPEG stream: Victim
MPEG stream: Biography Obscene

We totally dig Norwegian black metallers Khold, whose records we have raved about on the list again and again. Besides sounding a bit like a black metal Nirvana, with more hooks and groove than blast and buzz, they also had an amazing image, their frontman, shaved head, all clad in black, huge fur animal-leg-like pants, long sleeved turtleneck, and black corpsepaint covering JUST the bottom half of his head, leaving the top half white, a strange vision indeed, the other band members more randomly smeared with white and black, the demonic legions to their leaders mysterious dark prince. But none of this was without precedent. Before Khold were Khold, they were Tulus, a different black metal band, with a different sound, a different image, but as far as we know all the same members. Strangely enough, Tulus recently reunited, thus rendering Khold on hold, or defunct, with a new album (Biography Obscene, which we'll review soon!) just released, but we're here to talk about the might Tulus, so let's, shall we? Cold Core Collection gathers up the first two Tulus discs, Pure Black Energy and Mysterion, both on the first disc, the second disc made up of rarities, demos, unreleased tracks, as well as two covers, David Bowie's "Space Oddity" and Obituary's "Slowly We Rot". The first thing that struck us about Tulus, was the singer, he of the now half black half white shaved head, who in Tulus sported Pippi Longstocking style pigtails, lots of lipstick, and what seems to be a dress or some sort of strange tunic, the rest of the band look just as unlikely, especially the one who looks like a wizened demonic old man. Wow. And the music is just as impressive, plenty of what would find its way to the forefront in Khold is already here, strangely catchy grooves, totally hypnotic guitar melodies, lurching tempos, but here, it's in a much more grim and buzzing black context, lots of blasting beats, insectoid riffing, harsh vocals, BUT, just like in the image department, there's lots of weird stuff going on, creepy little girl / King Diamond falsetto vocals here and there, chunky almost punk rock sounding riffing, stretches of loping almost post rock, but Tulus is definitely a black metal band, just with a twisted aesthetic, sonically and visually, making their music both grim and kvlt, black and brutal AND fucked up and demented, catchy and bizarre. The second disc is all over the map, the early demo stuff sounds like Striborg, ULTRA lo-fi, ALL drums, the guitar a weedy little background buzz, plenty of tape hiss and blackened murk. The later demos are more polished but still unequivocally black and buzzy. The covers are awesome, especially the Bowie, the verses heavy and harsh, with black metal vocals, but the refrains soaring and dang close to the original, shimmering steel string guitars and lush harmony vocals, a weird mix, but it sort of works. Definitely recommended for anyone who dug those Khold discs, but this stuff is definitely grim and buzzy and fucked up enough to appeal to all the weirdo black metal fans out there. The booklet has the track info and some of the amazing photos (unfortunately not in full color) from the original releases. And for what it's worth, one of Andee and Allan's favorite black metal bands...

MPEG stream: Samlerens Kammer
MPEG stream: Tjern
MPEG stream: Dommens Fugl
MPEG stream: Skuggeskip

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Third album from these Norwegian black metallers (who double as the Old Man's Child touring band). Maybe this'll be the one to move them up to the next level (of Evil 2000?).

By now, most AQ customers are probably well familiar with Mr. Scott Tuma, who we of course first discovered playing guitar for legendary stoner slow-mo-country geniuses Souled American, in some ways, his underwater woozy guitar haze helped define that group's sound, and after striking out on his own, that sound became more and more distinctive, and we of course became more and more obsessed with Tuma's incredible abstract Appalachian soundscapes, equal part ambient drone music and haunting minimal guitar music. Dandelion might just be Tuma's darkest and most abstract outing to date, after several brief tracks of music box ambience, delicate chimes, hazy melodies, wheezing smoldering rumbles, disembodied shimmer and rickety barely there rhythms, the record unfolds into it's first longform piece, an absolutely gorgeous driftscape, clouds of hiss and blur swirl softly and in slow motion, before a skeletal banjo, picks out a mournful melody, one note at a time, letting each note drift into the ether, before sending the next to follow. Around this haunting bit of abstract drift all manner of field recordings, sirens in the distance, chirping birds, whipping winds, tinkling chimes, rustling branches, a riveting stretch of folkdrone ambience for sure. A brief bit of tangled glistening guitar melody leads into the second epic, this one ominous and foreboding, slivers of guitar buzz and shards of feedback draped over a softly swirling morass of muted buzz and smeared psychedelic swirls, clouds of cymbal shimmer hover in the background, as do tinkling chimes and flurries of abstract percussion, before fading out into a hushed bit of skeletal Appalachia. The flipside is three loooooong tracks, the first taking up almost half of the side, beginning with dense swells of low end, a blackened dronescape that almost sounds Wolf Eyes worthy, abject and bleak, grim rumbles beneath ashen layers of whir and hiss, those sounds seem to gradually coalesce into melodies, and what sounds like strings, the mood shifting dramatically, more cinematic, and epic, still haunting and dour, but infused with a warm glow, laced with still more random free drum skitter and glimmering cymbal shimmer, the gradually evolving sound stately, and elegiac, darkly and mysteriously lovely. The record finishes off with two more tracks, more like the older Tuma recordings, less dark, with that woozy Souled American vibe, delicate crystalline guitars set over reverbed landscapes of amorphous sway and drift, the two tracks forming the perfect sun dappled cloud covered coda to a fantastic, and fantastically enigmatic songsuite, from one of our favorite sonic alchemists...

You know how you can go on at length about this and that, but when you prepare to talk about that one thing you totally love, you find yourself completely tongue tied. I, Andee, kind of feel like that about this record. The minute we put this on, I knew this Scott Tuma is probably not a household name to most of you, except those of you, who like me, were obsessed with Souled American, since that's where he spent most of the eighties, helping create those molasses slow, rickety bluegrass song-skeletons that we here at AQ love so much. And his time spent in Souled American shows here, on his first 'solo' record. But unlike the stoned and unsteady lurch of SA, 'Hard Again' is all crystalline shimmer, with Tuma's guitar, guiding us unsteadily through soundscapes of tape hiss and skittering snares, moaning chords and weeping melodies. Take a little John Fahey, Jim O'Rourke's Bad Timing, Souled American, maybe some spacy Brian Eno, play it back on a ancient tape machine, and listen to these understated and completely gorgeous guitarscapes, warbling notes, shimmering harmonics and tape hiss and ambient noise all over. Some of the tracks take the Souled American sound and stretch it to its breaking point. Notes versus space, and the space always wins. But the space is never complete, each note rings out, reverberating into the next, creating a delicate latticework of notes and overtones. On one of the tracks a drummer chimes in, but takes a completely new direction with his kit, sounding as if pebbles and sand were being scattered on the snare, with rattles and sizzles scattered between the notes of the lush guitar. Probably the closest 'Hard Again' gets to an actual song is song 5. Wintery and glistening, with carnival melodies played unsteadily and gently, evoking late afternoon strolls through abandoned carnival midways, light blanket of snow on the ground, while the entire scene is hazy seen through the veil of snowflakes filling the sky. This record is just one long lush walk through a cloudy landscape of foggy daydreams and wistful memories. Similar to the way Philip Jeck takes turntables and crafts old fashioned film strip flashbacks of days gone by, Tuma, takes the guitar, and paints vivid images, faded by the passing of time, the snow on the ground, the water in the basement and the rays of the sun, and evidence by clicks and whirrs and hum, which only add another layer to this already rich document. SO so beautiful.

RealAudio clip: track 1
RealAudio clip: track 3
RealAudio clip: track 5

The first two solo albums from Scott Tuma of Souled American, previously cd-only and long out of print, now released for the first time on vinyl together as a gatefold double lp! Hard Again (2001) was a Record Of The Week here when it first came out, here's the big raving rave review Andee wrote: You know how you can go on at length about this and that, but when you prepare to talk about that one thing you totally love, you find yourself completely tongue tied. I kind of feel like that about this record. The minute we put this on, I knew this was it. One of my favorite records of the year, easy. Maybe one of my favorite records period. Scott Tuma is probably not a household name to most of you, except those of you, who like me, were obsessed with Souled American, since that's where he spent most of the eighties, helping create those molasses slow, rickety bluegrass song-skeletons that we here at AQ love so much. And his time spent in Souled American shows here, on his first 'solo' record. But unlike the stoned and unsteady lurch of SA, 'Hard Again' is all crystalline shimmer, with Tuma's guitar, guiding us unsteadily through soundscapes of tape hiss and skittering snares, moaning chords and weeping melodies. Take a little John Fahey, Jim O'Rourke's Bad Timing, Souled American, maybe some spacey Brian Eno, play it back on a ancient tape machine, and listen to these understated and completely gorgeous guitarscapes, warbling notes, shimmering harmonics and tape hiss and ambient noise all over. Some of the tracks take the Souled American sound and stretch it to its breaking point. Notes versus space, and the space always wins. But the space is never complete, each note rings out, reverberating into the next, creating a delicate latticework of notes and overtones. On one of the tracks a drummer chimes in, but takes a completely new direction with his kit, sounding as if pebbles and sand were being scattered on the snare, with rattles and sizzles scattered between the notes of the lush guitar. Probably the closest 'Hard Again' gets to an actual song is song 5. Wintery and glistening, with carnival melodies played unsteadily and gently, evoking late afternoon strolls through abandoned carnival midways, light blanket of snow on the ground, while the entire scene is hazy seen through the veil of snowflakes filling the sky. This record is just one long lush walk through a cloudy landscape of foggy daydreams and wistful memories. Similar to the way Philip Jeck takes turntables and crafts old fashioned film strip flashbacks of days gone by, Tuma, takes the guitar, and paints vivid images, faded by the passing of time, the snow on the ground, the water in the basement and the rays of the sun, and evidence by clicks and whirrs and hum, which only add another layer to this already rich document. So so beautiful. And then Tuma's follow-up to that, The River 1 2 3 4 (2003) got a bit of a rave here too, as you might expect, we'll just recap a bit of it: Wheezing chords underpin purposeful notes gently plucked and left to hang momentarily in the warm air, before drifting gently out of earshot. Melodies slowly reveal themselves from a smattering of notes introduced slowly and sporadically somehow knowing that they will all eventually fall snugly into place. Lush, slowly shifting drones with barely-there melodies suspended within like insects in amber. Warm blankets of sound, woven simply, but perfect in their simplicity. Completely mesmerizing and so soothing. Like Phill Niblock composing for Palace, or Godspeed backing up John Fahey, or Philip Jeck and a handful of country 78's. Simply amazing.

MPEG stream: Beautiful Dreamer
MPEG stream: Your N Baby
MPEG stream: Drums Midway
MPEG stream: The River 1
MPEG stream: The River 2

The first time we heard Scott Tuma play guitar, was with skeletal slowcore country legends Souled American. His washed out dreamlike atmospheric guitar parts helped define their sound, but more importantly, introduced Tuma as a truly idiosyncratic guitar player, with a haunting and mysteriously unique sound. Tuma's music was like an acoustic version of Tim Hecker or Fennesz, but whereas those guys use electronics and computers and effects to transform their guitars into blurred dronescapes, Tuma's approach is much more organic, unfurling skeletal guitar lines, a slowed down Appalachia deftly woven into a sprawl of slow motion, washed out, sepia toned countrified ambience. Tuma's two proper solo records, Hard Again and The River 1 2 3 4, are both HUGE all time aQ favorites, so we were pretty excited to hear about a brand new release, especially since we've been waiting patiently for almost 5 years! Not For Nobody begins quite strangely, a super spare, lo-fi recording of barely there guitar, stretched out beneath reverb drenched childlike vocals, cooing and purring, a bit like a countrified Bjork, the sibilance stretched out into glistening shimmers, the melody, mournful and dreamy, bits of tinkling chimes, and muted ambient clatter, the whole thing sun dappled and soft focus, so strange and haunting, but so lovely and sublime. The next track finds us on much more familiar ground, a loose tangle of steel string guitar, sounding like it could have come off one of the later Souled American records, but sans vocals, the melodies lyrical and lilting, couched in a thick layered backdrop of warm whir, sprinkled with tinkling bells and chimes, laced with bits of piano, somehow sparse and skeletal, but impossibly lush. Which is sort of Tuma's specialty, turning minimalism into maximalism, but without losing any of the former's hushed urgency or whispered intimacy. The whole record is quite varied, but each track manages to sound like it couldn't be anywhere else, every one seamlessly leading into the next, a song suite, an album of cohesive musical pieces, not just a collection of songs. The third track, "Eloper", introduces what sounds like horns, for a haunting funereal march, a woozy fanfare that seems to slowly spread out, a simple pulse like rhythm beneath hazy streaks and deliberate minor key strum. The next track begins as a jaunty upper register steel string lullaby, giving way, part way through, to a languorous late afternoon sun dappled sprawl, slightly atonal, gorgeous and bleary eared. "New Joy" buries the guitar in a haze of whirring buzz and warm swirls of lush chords and muted feedback, very liturgical sounding, a dark ambient drift through some ancient crumbling cathedral, while "Rakes" begins as a simple stripped down halfspeed Appalachian hoedown, before transforming into a sea of sawing strings, of layered buzz and extended steel string drones. The record finishes the way it began, with that ghostly childlike voice, the bits of spare guitar, the massive clouds of delay and reverb, that voice a wraith hovering above the web of subtle minor key guitar, the floorboards creaking, motes of dust tinkling like chimes in a soft evening breeze, creepy, sorrowful, and so completely gorgeous. Tuma conjures a timeless magical mystery with his guitar. He plays the mysterious traveler, a wandering audio alchemist, turning notes and chords into gold, or rather, golden streaks of dusty memory and soft golden glimpses of some hidden and blurred otherworld. His are sounds to get lost in, to wrap around yourself like some cloak spun from gold thread, to hide under with a flashlight like a child, creating worlds of light and shadow, a sound at once mystical and enigmatic, warm and familiar, and truly truly sublime. ATTENTION!! The first 100 copies come packaged in a gold on black, cardstock gatefold sleeve, housed in a special oversized handscreened 7" style outersleeve, black ink on metallic gold paper, each one hand numbered. We managed to get nearly 3/4 of that first 100, but the way things have been going these will probably not last long, so once we run out, you'll get the normal, slightly cheaper version (the innersleeve white on brown instead of gold and black, and without the oversized hand numbered outer sleeve).

MPEG stream: Nobody (River Of Tin)
MPEG stream: Fishen
MPEG stream: Eloper
MPEG stream: Tiktaalik

We first discovered Scott Tuma when he was playing guitar for stoned Chicago slowcore country cosmonauts Souled American, his distinctive sound helping to shape SA's totally idiosyncratic music. And after Tuma parted ways with Souled American, he seemed to mark the event by jettisoning traditional songs completely, instead crafting a series of gorgeously gauzy country dronescapes, like an organic folk version of Tim Hecker, his lush landscapes, blurred and gauzy, washed out smears of impressionistic country music, evoking lost loves and bygone eras, his music utterly timeless and totally unlike anything we'd heard. So every new Tuma releases is definitely worth celebrating, and Peeper is no different. A five song suite that captures everything we love about Tuma's music. The opener is a barely there stretch of gauzy sun dappled shimmer, which gives way to a stretch of slow motion Appalachia, the notes left to float weightless in wide open stretches of warm whirring ambience, a creaky, glacial bit of old timey drift, like a broadcast from some other time, playing through a busted old radio on a rickety old porch, the sunlight glimmering through the branches of the trees, the summer fading ever so slowly. Like on past records, Tuma is joined by members of Zelienople, and as the record progresses, the trio begin to unfurl fuzzy stretches of soft noise, of industrial creak, and layered grey drones, peppered with bits of percussion, clatter and whir, growing noisier and more propulsive, more like some murky psychedelic outfit, a haunting melody laced noise drenched creep, that's both caustic and lovely, eventually dissipating and leaving more hazy hushed dreaminess, what sounds like harmonium, piano, lazy and warm and languid and so sweetly beautiful. The flipside of the tape, as far as we can tell, features a reinterpretation of Tuma's music, or maybe Tuma's sounds are sampled, or perhaps it's simply an homage, but the oddly named Brothers Pus (aka Johnny Kember & James Provencher), weave a thick sea of layered bass rumbles, of keening distant high end streaks, of tolling bells, a dark industrial dronescape, infused with bits of melody, that gradually fades out and gives way to something more folky, the industrial whir dialed back, while guitars pluck out melancholy melodies over the top, a dark droning country drift, that had we not known better, would have assumed it was Tuma himself. LIMITED TO 100 COPIES! Already sold out, we have less than 20 copies and that's IT.

This is record number two from AQ fave Scott Tuma and it's just as beautiful as last year's Hard Again album that we couldn't stop raving about. For those who don't know, Tuma spent the majority of his career as the guitar player for stoned country deconstructionists Souled American. And Tuma has continued to deconstruct that sound even further. Taking the glacial slow motion country of Souled American as a jumping off point, Tuma manages to remove most of the distinctly 'song' elements and focus more on sound, and the impression of that sound. Slow and dreamy, full of space and even more purposeless in terms of song structure than ever, but consequently more effective at creating moods, evocative and stunning, epic and totally timeless. The instrumentation is simple, acoustic guitars, banjos, harmonica, organ, with plenty of ambient clatter, instrument buzz, foot steps, chairs creaking, breathing and shuffling all add to the spare beauty. Wheezing chords underpin purposeful notes gently plucked and left to hang momentarily in the warm air, before drifting gently out of earshot. Melodies slowly reveal themselves from a smattering of notes introduced slowly and sporadically somehow knowing that they will all eventually fall snugly into place. Lush, slowly shifting drones with barely-there melodies suspended within like insects in amber. Warm blankets of sound, woven simply, but perfect in their simplicity. Completely mesmerising and so soothing. Like Phill Niblock composing for Palace, or Godspeed backing up John Fahey, or Philip Jeck and a handful of country 78's. Simply amazing. MPEG Download: "The River 1" [/audio/tumariver1.mp3] MPEG Stream: "The River 1" [/audio/tumariver1.m3u]

MPEG stream: The River 1
MPEG stream: The River 2

Scott Tuma is easily one of our favorite guitarists, from his stint creating warped and warbly underwater twangscapes in legendary downer country legends Souled American, to his gorgeous solo records of warm hazy Appalachia, so it's nice that Tuma seems to be back on track, after a seemingly long stretch of inactivity. The recent Not For Nobody, which was of course an aQ Record of The Week, and now this, a brand new collaboration with Zelienople's Mike Weis, which manages to take that Tuma sound we love and transform it into something new and different. Weis is the drummer in Zelienople, and since Zelienople never had much cause for a proper drummer, Weis manages to be super creative behind the kit, or maybe more accurately, with an arsenal of cymbals and gongs and chimes, creating textures and layers more than rhythms. Which is precisely what he brings to this collaboration. Tuma is of course doing what he does best, weaving lush landscapes of sound, his guitar keening and moaning, drifting and twanging, sounding underwater one minute, weightless and spacey the next, those sounds are given a whole new context when paired with Weis's unique percussion. The drums here seem to consist mostly of a sort of soft cacophony, manic skitter, clouds of tinkling chimes, bowed cymbals, the deep tones of BIG cymbals or gongs, plenty of clatter and clang, but all sort of smeared into a living backdrop, reacting and interacting with Tuma's guitar, the result is often like a strange Souled American free jazz mashup, which might not sound good, but actually is, although elsewhere the results are a bit more subtle than that. The guitars slip from hazy and underwater sounding, to gently shimmering, acoustic guitars unfurl woozy Appalachia, bits of twang, soft strums, all gently laid over a sea of skitter and thump, the deep shimmer of reverberating metals, the result is gorgeously murky and indistinct, less like two players playing off of each other, and more like two people contributing to the same sprawling sound. The first side plays out like the two getting acquainted, a delicate dance, their unique sounds quickly finding common ground and melting seamlessly into each other, culminating in a gorgeous track of hushed minimalism, introducing piano, Weis's percussion kept to a whispered thrum, everything wreathed in lush reverb and delay, so lovely. The second side, features several longish tracks, where Tuma gets to try something a little more distorted and aggressive, the duo creating extended bouts of deep ominous dronemusic and thick caustic buzz, each player's contributions still distinct, at least with close listening, but step back, and the various parts take on surprising shapes, long stretches of heaving, droning, mesmerizingly meditative and surprisingly fluid drones, that manage to be warm and melodic as well as darkly mysterious. Packaged in beautiful fold out silk screened sleeves, and LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!! ALREADY SOLD OUT!! THESE ARE THE ONLY COPIES WE'LL HAVE, EVER.

The first in what will be an ongoing series of Afro-Cuban collections commissioned by the always trustworthy Soul Jazz records. Tumba Francesca is a totally vibrant combination of African drums and French patois vocals. Tumba Francesca La Caridad de Oriente is a 140-year old tradition in Cuba. Beginning in the 19th century elaborate performances of this music would take place during Carnivale with everyone decked out in 18th century French ballroom costumes while playing African music. It's easy to understand why it's worth it to go to such great lengths to preserve this music and this culture, the sound is a timeless and exhuberant explosion of effervescent rhythms and amazing vocal chants and call & response singing that keeps your body moving and your mind soaring. Such a deep and powerful musical tradition can not be forgotten...

MPEG stream: Mapula Live
MPEG stream: Ven Mi Morena (Tahona)

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Man's Ruin has dug up yet another band of young Kyuss emulators. As usual, pretty good for that crowded stoner rock genre. These guys are from Ohio or somewhere, but you can find these bands from Finland to the Philipines I'm pretty sure. Bongs away!

Some of you may remember the cool oversized black metal magazine Oaken Throne (issues #1 and #2 now sadly out of print, but issue #3 coming soon!). Well in issue #2, the back cover featured a super cool tUMULt ad designed by the guys who design and publish Oaken Throne, featuring a cool woodcut and printed in silver metallic ink. Several folks commented on how the ad looked even cooler than the magazines actual cover, so AQ pal Wes decided to help make it into a poster. And WOW! The posters are gorgeous. On thick black paper, printed in metallic silver ink, featuring the fallen angel woodcut, an upside down cross (of course), the heavier tUMULt bands, as well as the unofficial tUMULt motto "I Hate Your Band." These are really nice and really big, about 48 inches high by 18 inches wide, so they need to be shipped in a tube so you'll have to pay a separate extra shipping charge. Don't let the tiny scan fool you, these are truly great looking, and um, even suitable for framing! ----* ----* Selected New Arrivals : ----*

Finally, now you can not only proclaim your love for Andee's record label and all the killer bands who have released records on tUMULt: Weakling, Leviathan, Iran, Hammers Of Misfortune, Harvey Milk, Bathtub Shitter, Souled American, but also your disdain for all other bands! Or maybe just ALL bands... This two button set features one button with the ubiquitous tUMULt upside down cross logo, a logo so heavy it seems to have slid down the button, to settle near the bottom, the other featuring the ever popular "I hate your band" legend printed all by its lonesome. Perfect as a non verbal response to the age old query "So, what did you think of my band" or even "How did you like the cd I gave you". Just point, and problem solved! So c'mon, represent!! Both buttons are extra big too, not tiny band button sized, but also not huge weird soccer mom button size either, just a little bit bigger than your typical 1" button (they're 1.5" just so you know), so they're small enough to decorate your favorite denim vest or trucker hat or tube top, but big enough to make the rest of your buttons cower in terror! ----* ----* Selected New Arrivals : ----*

Max Tundra (avid Art of Noise fan and proud member of the Warp Records roster) exclusively used the Yamaha QY20 (a tiny / tinny sequencer with a bunch of pre-programmed 8-bit 'Lego block' samples) in the composition of this short EP, hence the title. These

Portland has been a veritable hotbed of underground dronefolk, floorcore and free noise lately, even with the dissolution of the Yellow Swans, we're left with Valet, Dark Yoga, Tunnels and lots more. Tunnels, when we first discovered 'them', was in fact a one man band specializing in rumbling droning buzz, static black ambience, that eschewed melody and arrangement for texture and mood. And we loved it. But over the last few Tunnels releases, we watched as the sound has gradually developed from that minimal low end blur, to something much more varied and songlike, prettier and way more musical. We're tempted to think that Tunnels is no longer a one man band, as the sound now sounds like some foresty folk collective, feeling their way around lilting melodies, and fractured song structures. Regardless, it still sounds fantastic, just now it is more in line with stuff like Avarus, or No Neck, or Kemialliset. The drone is still ever present, but now it's just a tiny part of a much more sprawling and expansive whole. The sound lo-fi and home recorded, but deep and dense and warm and lush. Guitars drift, distorted melodies surface here and there, percussion is erratic and playful, stumbling and not always specifically rhythmic, voices moan and croon, wreathed in effects that don't distort as much as they just soften and blur. Some tracks sound distinctly African, with a distinct Konono vibe, others remind us of Amps For Christ, haunting jaunty buzz drenched hoedowns, while still others are soft serene soundscapes, that shimmer dreamily, all the distortion and buzz allowed to remain, just way off in the distance. The sound of Tunnels now is much less specific, and certainly harder to define, but it's probably exactly what makes this disc so compelling, and keep us wanting to hear more and more. LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!

MPEG stream: Magick Without Tears
MPEG stream: Genesis Hall

Latest from this one man Portland based psychedelic drone outfit, we blew through the last two cd-r releases (we've got three others in stock we've yet to review, check the in stock not yet reviewed section of this list if you want to buy any of those) and this is the latest, a super micro pressing of only 50 copies, so we won't bother to say too much, as from past experience we know there are WAY more psychdrone obsessives than we got copies of this disc. Way more active than the first Tunnels cd we listed, and much more varied than the second, Cluster of Rainbows starts at a similar sonic starting point, a slow burning, near static wash of rumbling whirs and distant low end moan, a washed out expanse of shimmering drone, but now there are vocals, disembodied and drifting, chant-like, adding a sort of space rock vibe. The first half of this nearly hour long track is a series of variations on that initial spaced out cosmic drone, various timbres of buzz, layers of whirring sound, chiming harmonics and glistening bell-like tones, all woven into a constantly fluctuating sea of black ambience, the real surprise comes about 30 minutes in, when all of a sudden an acoustic guitar surfaces, gently strummed, delicately picked, a haunting little chunk of Appalachia draped over the smoldering low end, both building in intensity, before fading into a pulsing stream of crackling blackened low end, warm melodic swells, and finishing off with several minutes of near silence, and barely audible conversation. Packaged in cool dvd style square plastic digipaks, with photocopied covers, and an insert, hand numbered. LIMITED TO 50 COPIES!!! We got half the pressing, after that, these are gone for good.

MPEG stream: Cluster Of Rainbows For The Angel Who Announces The End Of Time (excerpt)

It's been a while since we've had a proper full length from Tunnels, aka Nicholas Bindeman, who over the last few years has given us a whole mess of gorgeous, and sadly for the most part all out of print, cd-r's of deep shimmering drone music, abstract minimal freak folk, and everything in between. This latest tape finds Bindeman taking his sound even further into that more songy direction, and we're digging it big time. Fuzzy and psychedelic and woozy and groovy and druggy, mixing looped droning ambience with buzzy hypnotic Spacemen 3 style drug psych, even a bit of Wooden Shjips drug rock, each track seems to be built around a single riff, locked and looped, mesmerizing and tripped out, while all around, guitar leads tangle and super reverbed vocals croon WAY down in the mix, the vibe is sun baked and lysergic, surprisingly rocking too, acoustic guitars unfurl all folkily, before they begin to buzz and suddenly we're in Six Organs or Jack rose territory, a little buzz drenched Appalachia, but infused with plenty of ramshackle foresty tinkle and chime, and there's even some of the old school Tunnels dronemusic happening, but that too is all psychedelic and blown out, reminding us of newer sonic explorers like Expo 70. Needless to say, it's about time folks into all that new fangled modern psych, and abstract krautdrone got hip to Tunnels, this definitely pushes all the same buttons. Expo 70, White Hills, Wooden Shjips, Lamp Of The Universe, Heavy Winged, Sleepy Sun, all that sort of stuff, this is just as heavy and dreamy and trippy and psychedelic and awesome as any of that. Buy this now, and track down the rest of the Tunnels records if you can, this sort of shit can't stay under the radar for much longer. Super fancy packaging, deluxe 6 panel full color fold out sleeve, with a printed vellum obi, each one hand numbered, LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!

We got super into Portland one man drone outfit Tunnels a while back, and have tried to carry everything we could get our hands on, check out all the rave reviews on the aQ site, so we went ahead and ordered a bunch of copies of three new releases, all put out by the band, all hand made, the covers glued and taped, all fantastic and beautiful, dark and droney, mysterious and murky. But before we could review them and list them, we started selling them like crazy, in the store, and to eagle eyed mailorder customers who spied them on the in stock not yet reviewed list (always check there!), so much so that we were soon down to a number too few to review on the new arrivals list. Unfortunately, now, all three of them are out of print, and we have the last remaining 8 or so copies of each. So fair warning, judging from how quick they went in the store, odds are these will be gone in a flash. And we can absolutely NOT get more once we run out, as they were limited to 50 or 70 or some crazy small amount. And for those of you new to the sound of Tunnels, well, the name is your first clue, it's dark and mysterious, but shot through with a warm distant glow, part abstract ambience, part minimal drone, part drifty krautrock, dreamy and washed out and hypnotic, sometimes building into huge swells of low end, other times shimmering ghostlike. Gorgeous, gorgeous stuff. It's high time somebody released a proper record. But for now, these cd-r's will have to hold us over. And again, out of print, last copies ever, act fast, and all that...

MPEG stream: 1

More dreamy drones from Portland, Oregon. The second audio document from the man known simply as Tunnels, and the weird thing is, the music actually sort of sounds like tunnels... We have had a few other Tunnels cd-r's, we still have a few in stock, have a look at this week's instock not yet reviewed section, they're all great, but this is the latest, and we actually managed to get enough to actually review and list. Unlike the self titled cd-r on Yarn Lazer (now out of print, so don't order), which seemed to be mostly low end rumble and minimal drone, Radiant Bodies begins with nothing but vocals, disembodied coos and purrs left suspended in haunting stretches of reverbed shimmer and glitchy percussive skitter. Sounds a bit like Yarn Lazer head honcho Honey Owens' Valet project. The second track continues on in a similar trajectory, billowy smears of melody, over a blurred dentist drill backdrop, a pretty gauze draped over a jagged landscape of hiss and grind. The next track is even more ephemeral, gorgeous spaced out krautrock synth drift a la Popol Vuh or Tangerine Dream, but even more blissed out. In fact very little of the record is low end rumble, instead it's all blown out space rock drift, long glimmering expanses of pulsing minimal sound, meditative and hypnotic and so beautiful.� Packaged in a mini dvd style plastic sleeve, with full color cover, and full color mini insert.�

MPEG stream: Lumia
MPEG stream: The Light That Was Never On Land Or On Sea

[ aquarius records catalogue — T ]