Of all the current crop of weirdo garage poppers and minimal cold wavers, the one band who we WISH would shower us with a million releases is the one band that DOESN'T. So when there's a new Tyvek record, you can bet we're all over it. After the recent reissue of their killer debut 7" Mary Ellen Claims, which we played to death, and the Siltbreeze record that's been on nonstop rotation since we first got it in, comes this new record, a gorgeously packaged, short collection of songs, not all instrumental as the title implies, but like the other Tyvek jams, stripped down and catchy, a little stumbly and raw, urgent and hooky, a little new wave-y, a little punky, and way retro poppy, these songs rule, a couple of them almost sound unfinished, sans vocals, but it hardly matters, they're still killer slices of punky retro pop goodness. Most of the songs sound like they could have been yanked right off the Siltbreeze record, and then there's the sprawling final track, a long sprawling, hypnotic slab of warped and warbly minimal new wave pop, with strange murky bits of percussion, spidery guitars, everything muddy and washed out and druggy, almost wish they would have stuck this on on the other side and let it fill the whole thing up. but they couldn't cuz the flipside is silkscreened, a cool blue image on a clear slab of wax, next to a thick silkscreened sleeve, super nice, and probably super limited as well...
The latest from these Detroit lo-fi noisepop garage rockers finds the band continuing to shed much of their overt weirdness, and settling into a sound that's much more classic eighties punk rock, or pop punk, the sort of sound that makes Tyvek sound more like some lost band we discovered on one of those Hyped2Death comps, which is not a bad thing at all.
Urgent and jangly, punky and frantic, the vox sung/spoken and WAY up in the mix, definitely reminding us of Mark E. Smith of the Fall, in fact some of this actually sounds like old Fall, snarly and snotty, swaggery and sinewy, three chord bash and trash infused with cool subtle melodic leads, loads of hooks, but wed to something much more raw and fuzzy than we would have expected from these guys in the past. Even the production sounds genuinely old school, brittle and tinny, and in-the-red, very four track, old punk 7"s vibe for sure, but thankfully these guys have not lost their knack for weirdo pop, and that stuff definitely still finds its way into their sound.
Originally released in 2006, the debut 7" from these lo-fi noise pop garage punk rockers is available again. And anyone into the current crop of noisemakers like Ty Segall, Waaves, Oh Sees, Crocodiles, and all that stuff, should not sleep on Tyvek, their full length we reviewed a while back is a killer, and these two songs destroy as well.
In fact, the A side, "Mary Ellen Claims" might be their best jam ever, all short sharp jagged guitar jangle, yelped vocals, total eighties punk rock vibe, we hear a more lo-fi scrappy Jam actually, cool catchy new wave melodies all over the place, frenetic drumming, and as catchy as all get out. This track will become so lodged in your head guaranteed. The flipside is more of a trifle, but still pretty cool, the vocals spouting absurdist lyrics about different makes and models of cars among other things, delivered in a very Mark E. Smith like drawl, but underpinned by fuzzy bass, and slashes of angular guitar. Rad stuff. And apparently originals of this go for crazy cash on eBay, so now's your chance...
Brand new blast of lo-fi noisy punk rock garage pop from this Detroit outfit, who seem to have shed much of the twisted weirdness that infused most of their past releases in favor of a blown out in-the-red urgency, short sharp songs, most clocking in at less than 90 seconds, rife with crunchy distorto guitars, pounding drums, distorted vocals, the record opener is about as poppy as it gets, with some sing-along gang vocals, and a killer main hook, that sort or reminds us of Home Blitz, snarky and loose, a little chaotic, but catchy as heck.
Most of the record hews to this formula, a couple riffs, simple and stripped down, the sound raw and primitive, but listen close and these seemingly simple tossed off jams reveal a whole lot of hookery beneath the surface, it took a few listens, but most of these songs are now lodged pretty seriously in our skulls.
The nearly 5 minute "Outer Limits" might be one of our favorite jams here, with a distinctive stop start riff, some rad guitar harmonics, and urgent yelped vox, and a super melodic bridge/chorus, not to mention an awesome 2 minute long droned out creepy sci-fi ambient outro. "Underwater To" is another good one, the punky crunch woven around some jangly guitars and a distinctly seventies power pop feel, with some awesomely hooky guitar melodies over the top.
Not as immediately freaky and fucked up as past Tyvek's but we're beginning to think that's not such a bad thing after all, and with every listen we're digging this more and more!
The third full length record from Detroit garage punks Tyvek, finds the group once again, mixing things up, after beginning life as a warped lo-fi fractured garage pop combo, the last few records found these guys getting more and more punk, shedding much of their quirkiness and poppiness in favor of something more angry and urgent, culminating in the recent Nothing Fits, which found the band in full on punk mode, short blasts of crunchy guitar, pounding drums and yowled vocals, but here, on their latest, On Triple Beams, it's almost as if those preceding records never happened at all. Chronologically, this definitely sounds like it should have come right after their Siltbreeze debut, the songs are longer, noiser and poppier, lots of tangled guitars, wild chaotic drumming, all wound into tense sprawls of droned out, crunchy post punk garage pop pound, opener "Scaling" channels the Fall, the vocals sung/spoken over a relentless jagged jangle, and peppered with blurts of distorted buzz, the chorus loose and chaotic, all the while, catchy as hell.
And that Fall comparison definitely proves apt as the record unwinds, most of the track just two or three parts, frantic riffing, wound around stripped down propulsive drum pound, locked tight, while the vocals testifyin' over the top. The sound is much more in line with their In The Red brethren, but at the same time, they're definitely sounding very British post punk, angular and angsty, sharp and swaggery, somehow fusing the warped garage pop of their debut, with the agit punkiness of their last few records into this heady, sweaty, bruised and bloody blast of kick ass garage punk crush.
There's just something about these guys. On the surface, they sound like they're just another one of the many lo-fi garage rock / warped pop bands that have been popping up over the last few years, but there's definitely something special about Tyvek, even as far back as 2004, which is when these tracks were recorded, they managed to transcend: simple, stripped down, jangly and rocking, totally catchy and utterly irresistible pop music, or garage, or punk. Whatever. Skyin features a handful of songs that would be re-recorded later, as well as a bunch of songs found only here.
We've raved about Tyvek before, but we're happy to do it again, totally ramshackle, lo-fi garage pop-punk genius, even more ramshackle here, recorded on a 4-track, in the band's house, loads of tape hiss, and drop outs and warble, the band even fuck up, A LOT, but they just keep going, starting again right where they left off, it makes the songs lively and fun, and immediate, and those fuckups then become part of the song, you can't imagine them not doing the intro three times in a row, or stopping right in the middle and talking for a second before deciding to keep going. Plus before very song, and during the slow, less rocking numbers, you can totally hear the music from whatever crappy old tapes they used leaking through, adding a whole 'nother confusional sonic element to their otherwise simple songs.
And ultimately it is about the songs. Simple, stripped down, crunchy and catchy, these songs sound fresh and vibrant, but also classic and timeless, like they could be some lost psychedelic power pop gem from the eighties recently unearthed and reissued, or some weird punk record, undiscovered until now, propulsive rhythms, yelped vocals, buzzy angular guitars, lots of jangle, hooks everywhere, totally rocking and oozing energy, that combined with the strange fucked up recording all adds up to some super rad, way recommended lo-fi noise pop. If you love Thee Oh Sees and Ty Segall and all that stuff, these guys will knock your socks off.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. In recycled lp sleeves, with full color paste on cover art.
Here's a surprise from the Siltbreeze camp. Not that Siltbreeze hasn't dabbled in pop in the past, but it's been a while since they've released something this catchy. Lo-fi, but not like the current crop of shit gazers, punk rock, but not like PUNK, and pop, but not sugary sweet, Tyvek are twisted, slightly damaged, off kilter, fractured punk pop. Or something like that. The label name drops Mekons, Urinals, Feelies, Velvet Underground, and yeah, those bands are obviously influences, we also hear some Strapping Fieldhands (also once on Siltbreeze) as well as various New Zealand combos. For all it's fucked up weirdness, and willful stumble, these are some incredibly catchy songs, simple spare drumming, guitars that clang and chime and crunch, and vocals that strain to hit the high notes, sounding earnest and emotional, and fuck, hooks galore, some of these songs will stick in your head like CRAZY.
And even though it's not quite the same sort of thing, all of you into Blank Dogs, Psychedelic Horseshit, Times New Viking, The Intelligence, Gary War and all that garage-y shit-fi might just dig this too...
Latest in the ever expanding sonic microverse that is the Mystery Sea label's super limited, gorgeously curated and meticulously assembled series of night-ocean dronemusic cd-r's. Each limited to 100 copies, and presented in beautiful full color packaging, and every one, a breathtaking disc of dark and meditative minimalism. Fans and obsessive collectors of releases from folks like Jonathan Coleclough, Andrew Chalk, Mirror, Ora, Organum, anything on the Drone Records label and other like minded dronelords, should absolutely consider every Mystery Sea release required listening.
From the Basque region of Spain comes the one man soundscaper known as Tzesne, with previous releases on Drone, Antifrost and a handful of other small labels, this is his first for Mystery Sea, and it's a perfect match. A deft blend of deep billowing blackness, and subtly processed field recordings. Of whispery ambience, and soft focus atmosphere. Three long tracks, that sprawl and drift, dense and ominous, pulsing clouds of muted black buzz, a sonic black cloth draped over a slowly undulating sea of dreamlike murk, and mysterious indistinct sonic activities. It's like laying on the ocean floor, observing life and movement above, all filtered through the dim prism of the constantly shifting waters, everything rendered in smeared streaks, and softly wavering shapes. All three tracks are ultra minimal, near static stretches of deep layered drone. The most musical moment being the second half of the second track, where the various layers coalesce into one thick ribbon of sound, a very Niblockian drone, huge layers all tangled and interwoven, rife with microscopic overtones that transform static shimmer into an intensely (yet still subtly) active sonic swirl. Then it's straight back into the gauzy blurred abyss, underwater, underground, a sleepy staticky world of whir and hum wrapped around the ghostly traces of barely perceptible melodies. So gorgeous. Another disc of perfect late night drift.
Beautiful packaging as always, and again, LIMITED TO 100 COPIES.
Drone Record marches on with their impressive series of obscure projects presenting their post-industrial drones on the unlikely format of super limited edition 7" singles. Tzesne hails from Spain, and that's pretty much all we know about them / him / her. Whoever this is, Tzesne has presented an exceptional twin set of eerie sweeping drones derived from radio transmissions filtered through customized audio software. Much like Andrew Lagowski's paranoiac SETI albums of mutated radio signals and the Kallabris recordings of submariner ambience, Tzesne's Huffduff (which may be the shorthand for High Frequency Direction Finder, lending a cryptographic allusion to the work) stands out as a bleak WWII soundtrack of ghostly communications haunting the ether of the radio spectrum. Limited to 350 copies!
Anthropologist Thierry Zeno has regularly visited the Tzotile communities in the high plateaus of the Chiapas state of Mexico. The Tzotile people are the last descendants of the Mayan culture and have retained a traditional life devoid of Hispanic influence. These recordings document the rapid recitations of Tzotile stories as well as the music for the Day of the Dead, the Transfer of Power, and sancitification rituals. The traditional Tzotile instrumentation includes handbuilt harps, little fiddles, and water pipes that mimic bird songs.
