As the temperature and leaves gradually fall into autumn, a fittingly dusky and haunting album from former Bay Area now New York based folk troubadour Mr. Matt Bauer has arrived! It's a devastating song cycle inspired by the story about the mysterious death of a girl (posthumously known as Tent Girl) which took place back in 1968 in Bauer's old stomping grounds in Kentucky. Absolutely heart-rending and beautifully realized, The Island Moved In The Storm is a wonderful progression from his 2006 Wasps And White Roses cdep. Unquestionably his best work to date! The artfully Spartan arrangements allow much room for his achingly withered voice and deeply affecting words to sink in. He was ably assisted by many musical luminaries: Elizabeth Dotson-Westphalen of St. Vincent, Alela Diane, and Dirty Projectors' Angel Deradoorian to name a few. Fans of M. Ward, Jolie Holland, Sean Hayes and maybe even Calexico too, please take note immediately! This just may be your new favorite album and artist! Recommended.
Wow, do not miss The Jessamine County Book Of The Living. Matt Bauer's third full length is another deeply moving intimate work. Once again, he's gathered many of his musical friends around him for this lush bluegrass-y embrace. His nimble banjo picking and fine piano playing are now accompanied by strings, woodwinds, brass and more. Wonderful. The string quartet was recorded here in SF, the vocals of Garrett Pierce in Davis, and the rest of the production took place in Brooklyn and Lexington. And by "the rest", in part we mean some gorgeous female vocals from the likes of Jolie Holland and Mariee Sioux. Bauer's hushed voice is mournful yet comforting, and is perfectly complemented by the ladies' luminous delivery. Perhaps the album's crowning jewel is the fourth track "Blacklight Horses", a solemnly lovely Bauer and Holland duet. Just might move you to tears... actually many of Bauer's songs have that effect. Needless to say, this album is heartily recommended. Definitely for fans of Ms Holland, M. Ward and Iron & Wine.
A familiar face around this neighborhood -- you might recall his debut cd Nandina a couple of years back -- Mr. Bauer caught us off guard recently when we received a package from him addressed from New York. He'd pulled up anchor and moved across the country! Fortunately his brother still lives around the corner from our shop and can supply us with Matt's latest cdep. It picks right up where he left off on the final somber strains of Nandina's closing track "Jordan In A Plastic Bag". Such achingly beautiful, weathered folk melancholia, this time with the added pleasure of female vocals accompanying Matt's on a pair of songs. Who might those ladies be? Why, noneother than Ms Jolie Holland ("Carve It Out") and Ms Mariee Sioux ("Wasps And White Roses"). Each voice compliments the other so well! Also making a couple of appearances are fiddle player Alisa Rose ("White Horse" and "Poor Robin"), and Nathan Wanta guest sings along on the last number "Poor Robin" too. Seven songs of which five are originals (three with vocals, two without), plus two traditional numbers. Wonderful!
On the last list we raved about Jolie Holland's debut album Catalpa, but well before she recorded Catalpa, she did time as a sidekick/auxilliary member of Canadian bluegras folk outfit the Be Good Tanyas, providing fiddle, guitar, vocals, arranging and songwriting (her song "The Littlest Birds" appeared on Blue Horse before it showed up on Catalpa!) Folks who dug Holland's solo record will find so much to love here. A lush blend of guitar, mandolin, banjo, electric violin and double bass. Traditional bluegrass infused with modern songsmithery and utterly enchanting vocals weaving strange harmonies, at once classic and traditional but at the same time ghostly and otherworldly, making these songs sound like they were pulled from the ether, from some abstract time in the past. Lilting and forlorn, melancholy and dreamily perfect.
Following their fine Blue Horse debut album, the Be Good Tanyas' second full length offers a well selected mix of traditional numbers, originals and covers. On Chinatown the group, perhaps most notable for the very early membership of Ms Jolie Holland (whose since pursued a solo path), prove they've got nothing to prove. While many folks seem hell-bent on comparing the two, each glows warmly luminous in its own right (or shall we say light?). That's not to say that fans of one won't find much to love in the other, but this ain't no competition, is it? Embrace 'em all as their music embraces you! Effortlessly conjures visions of old tyme potbelly stoves, porchswings, corncob pipes and pitchers of lemonade.
Oh how we adore those Be Good Tanyas! Their first two albums Chinatown and Blue Horse hold solid places in our hearts (well, at least Andee and Cup's). Both albums came out ages ago, leaving us craving more for years! Primarily known stateside for far too long as Jolie Holland's former band, with the aptly titled Hello Love the Canadian country folk trio gracefully glide out of Holland's shadow and into their own rustic autumnal spotlight. That said, Holland does make a brief vocal appearance on the eighth track, their cover of Mississippi John Hurt's "Nobody Cares For Me". They also do wonderful versions of "A Thousand Tiny Pieces", a song by SF's dear Sean Hayes and "For The Turnstiles" by Neil Young. They're definite album highlights. Not so sure about their cover of Prince's "When Doves Cry" tho' which you'll find hidden at the end of the album. Oops, sorry to blow the surprise, but maybe they should've kept it hidden?!
An aside: Kinda burns our biscuits that an artist signed to Nettwerk Records (i.e, an international and pretty much 'major' label who could buy them the moon tenfold) is getting Canadian government funding grants while unsigned, empty pocketed independent candidates go empty handed. Geez, that just doesn't sit right.
But regardless, a super pretty twangy delight.
Boy do Beachwood Sparks want to be the Byrds. From the psychedelic cover art to the super acid-drenched photo collage foldout poster, they're wearing their peace pendants and worn-in denim like they're conjuring the ghost of Gram Parsons. And hey, they do it really well. Recorded by Thom Monahan (Scud Mountain Boys), the music is syrupy sweet in a good way, without being fake or too
The return of these aQ beloved Byrds worshipping psychedelic country poppers, and it's like nothing has changed. Their sound is still a lush hybrid of slide guitar driven twang, and lush sixties psych pop woven into a confection that's equal parts Elephant Six, Laurel Canyon and No Depression. When we attended the Sub Pop 20th anniversary celebration in Seattle back in 2008, in a weekend full of amazing reunions (Green River, Eric's Trip, The Fluid, Seaweed, Red Red Meat), we were secretly super psyched to see Beachwood Sparks, and they did not disappoint, playing a collection of classics and sounding as good as ever.
So here we are four years later, and the band have whipped up a new record that sounds like it could have come out right after 2002's Make the Cowboy Robots Cry ep. It's a little Grateful Dead, a LOT the Byrds, lush and lovely, with plenty of psychedelic filigree, and lush lovely harmonies, the sound evenly balanced between dark brooders and sun dappled dreampop, the slower darker numbers definitely of interest to fans of Fleet Foxes, Father John Misty and the like who might have missed these guys the first time around. And if you're one of those people who still loves listening to the Radar Brothers, Scud Mountain Boys, Court & Spark, Gram Parsons, etc, this will totally hit the spot. Gorgeous hook filled county pop that manages to push all our retro buttons, but still sound downright timeless.
Beautiful! Two members of the lost great LA band Further here team up with a former Lilys guy to form Beachwood Sparks, the freshest breath of country/rock twang to reach these ears in many months. Supplementing the normal rock lineup with harmonica, organ, piano, and plenty ooh-sha-la-la backup croonings, the music combines the best of Gram Parsons, early Byrds, and the Elephant 6 bands such as the Olivia Temor Control and Apples in Stereo. Boy-girl harmonies, real honest to god songwriting chops, and excellent crystal clear production. Highly recommended!
No, not the Mississippi Sheiks... this here is the Beale Street Sheiks, from Tennessee, comprised of legendary Memphis bluesman Frank Stokes and one Dan Sane. Those familiar with Stokes should know what's in store: prime Memphis blues with amazing rhythmic guitar playing and a powerful, highly emotive vocal delivery. The songs here make use of forceful jumping rhythms that are bluesy for sure, but also reminiscent of ragtime and other old time music. These songs certainly indicate why Stokes is recognized as such a force in the Memphis Blues, and the presence of Sane's guitar playing makes this duo sound pretty much unstoppable. The way the two lock in together implies an innate and unique understanding of the music, no wonder Stokes has been imitated by so many throughout the years. But this is the original source and another welcome addition to Monk's rapidly expanding catalog of the essentials.
The first thing that is immediately striking about Big Eagle's debut record is the outstanding musicianship. The twangy pedal-steel guitar floats like a dream and might bring salty tears to an eyeball or two; the subtle bass lines never overstep or outshine the lead melodies; the drums hold the songs' foundations with elegantly simple beats. And the vocals! Robyn Miller (formerly of The Peels) does what all the greatest country singers have done: write and sing beautiful songs about death, lust and hopelessness with a grace and dignity unavailable to most human beings. She not only channels Lucinda Williams, though: consciously or not, there's definitely some Chan Marshall and maybe a bit of Joanna Newsom thrown in.
Like Cat Power's album The Greatest, Willow Creek walks the fine line between indie rock and traditional roots music. Even in the titles of the songs, there's a strong dose of Americana: "Colorado," "Mississippi," "For Sale." "Broken Heart" mines the classic theme of heartbreak and has some excellent slow banjo work. "Colorado" is a short requiem, the pedal steel guiding you through the fragments of the best dream you ever had. "For Sale" has a bit more humor, with some clever lyrical wordplay and a playful guitar solo that lasts almost the entire song. The last track, "Bill Robinson's Run," might be the best on the record. The guitar and the banjo spar back and forth, the Hammond organ screams, the breaks are catchy and clever. A truly outstanding record from start to finish. Highly recommended!
The influence of the folk music of the British Isles (especially via it's '70s hippy interpreters), and Appalachian American folk as well, continues to filter into the indie-rock realm of today. Getting into the act now is Drew Nelson, bassist from post-rockers Sonna, who offers up a project named for an Incredible String Band album. It's mellow and maybe a bit mopey, featuring mostly originals with a few traditional tunes like "Bonnie Boy" thrown in. Drew sings and plays various instruments including guitar, banjo, dulcimer, and is joined by a few other folks on accordion, ukulele, and percussion. So if gentle, old-timey, acoustic folky stuff sung in an tenuous tenor warble -- trying to be Cat Stevens or perhaps Jeff Mangum or Will Oldham -- is your thing, then you could check this out, it might go on your discman or iPod as a pleasant afternoon coffee shop soundtrack.
Double (cd-r) disc from SF's favorite wild and wooly, rambunctious, foot stomping, bar fighting, beer drinking bluegrass outift, the Big Meat Combo, featuring Chewy Marzolo of Hammers Of Misfortune on drums. These two discs collect some live shows and some random studio recordings, that perfectly capture the playful drunken abandon of these guys. Songs about drinking, and fucking, and fighting, Tourette's Syndrome, Guns, and so much more. Steel strings, thumping tubs, harmonica, and harmony vocals, all snarled up in a chair smashing guns in the sky, musical bar brawl. Includes some unlikely covers: theme from Dukes Of Hazzard, "Working In A Coal Mine", "Fat Bottomed Girls", the Jungle Book theme and more. Fans of Bloodshot country, Pine Valley Cosmonauts, Jon Wayne, Waco Brothers, Split Lip Rayfield and the like will definitely dig!
Another unearthed Americana rarity from Tompkins Square, this one from the guitarist Don Bikoff, whose Celestial Explosion was originally released in 1968 on the super obscure Keyboard Records, which apparently featured some reference in the liner notes to John Fahey, who subsequently sent Bikoff a handwritten letter, that simply stated "I am not now, not have I ever been in search of someone named 'Blind Joe Death'." Those original liner notes are reproduced here as well, and really listening to this, there's no way to NOT make the comparison to Fahey, and Robbie Basho, and all the rest. But Bikoff definitely has his own sound, one that's more raw and aggressive, his strain of American Primitivism, involves aggressive, rapid finger picking, lots of overtones, the sound swirling and cosmic, with plenty of reverb, his playing quite percussive as well, even the gentle more laid back numbers here sound intense, as if he's really plucking and strumming those steel strings for all he's worth. Opener "Rindler's Metamorphosis" is a stunner, maybe the most psychedelic of the bunch, lots of bent stings and dark chords, strange melodies, the vibe haunting and otherworldly, it's easy to see why the record was named Celestial Explosion.
There's some excellent slide work too, "Earth (Revisited)" is all slippery, heavily reverbed steel string buzz, with some deft melodic flurries, not to mention lots of buzz and super percussive pizzicato plucking, and of course the title track is fantastically hypnotic and again darkly psychedelic, laced with glimmering chimes, a sort of abstract Americana that seems to be drifting heavenward, the stars their destination.
Nice packaging, reproducing the look of the original lp, original liner notes and other track info inside, new liner notes from Tompkins Square head honcho, Josh Rosenthal.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Folky-psyche bliss featuring Spencer Doran (Cloaks)
and members of Whysp and Residual Echoes.
Records are hand screened on recycled sleaves
with clear red vinyl!
Ah folks, proof that you shouldn't judge a book (or cd) by its cover! When Mike Sempert first dropped off a copy of this new release of his solo project Birds & Batteries its appearance (cover art, title, handmade sleeves, etc) initially struck us as perhaps a Jewelled Antler related or inspired release. Listening to it brought very different impressions. Blending together rootsy Americana, post-rock and electronica, the first song's stuttery programmed rhythms and hypnotic loops of arpeggiated melodies contrast well with Sempert's deep, melancholic vocals and guitar, bass and drums. Winding its way around the proceedings are some slippery stringy sounds that we guess is pedal steel or an e-bowed electric guitar or perhaps a synthesizer. He also enlists his friends to contribute saxophone, clarinet, female vocals (by Ms Heather Masse) and percussion in the form of a box of sugar! A very cool introduction to this recent SF transplant (from the far reaches of the Eastern Seaboard)!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
The newest in the frustratingly limited Latitudes series. Former contributors have included the Grails, Shit & Shine, Will Whitmore, Ginnungagap and Ariel Pink (don't bother asking, they are all long gone). Here we have the Sun City Girls' Sir Richard Bishop, in his solo guitar Improvika mode. Very much in the spirit of the current American Primitive / neo Appalchia sound, exploring similar territory as Jack Rose, Stephen Basho-Jungans, Charlie Schmidt and of course John Fahey, but on these improvised tracks, Bishop injects a healthy dose of flamenco which is sort of surprising. Not that Bishop isn't well versed in various musics of the world, he most definitely is as any number of SCG records will attest to, but it still sounds a little surprising in this context, but the result is truly gorgeous. Moody and emotional, dark and dense, dreamy and lyrical. Just Bishop and a steel string guitar unfurling dense tangles of intricate fingerpicking, as well as slow contemplative melodies, all rich with Spanish flavor. Occasionally Bishop goes for an Eastern raga like vibe instead, and ends up sounding closer to UK guitarist James Blackshaw or Rose at his most drone-y. So so lovely indeed!
Comes packaged in a super intricate hand screened die cut fold over sleeve with a full color insert. The cover has a breathtaking silver foil stamped embossed frontpiece and each copy is hand stamped and numbered. Limited to 1000 copies worldwide, 500 of which made it to the United States, about 50 of which made it here. So you know what that means!
We've all been going nuts for Southern's Latitudes series, super limited releases from Ginnungagap, Shit And Shine, Ariel Pink, Grails, Paradise Island, and elsewhere on this list, new ones from Magik Markers and Circle! Well the fine folks at Southern have decided to press a few of those Latitudes discs on vinyl! The first of which is Fingering The Devil from the Sun City Girls' Sir Richard Bishop, in his solo guitar Improvika mode. Very much in the spirit of the current American Primitive / neo Appalachia sound, exploring similar territory as Jack Rose, Stephen Basho-Jungans, Charlie Schmidt and of course John Fahey, but on these improvised tracks, Bishop injects a healthy dose of flamenco which is sort of surprising. Not that Bishop isn't well versed in various musics of the world, he most definitely is as any number of SCG records will attest to, but it still sounds a little surprising in this context, but the result is truly gorgeous. Moody and emotional, dark and dense, dreamy and lyrical. Just Bishop and a steel string guitar unfurling dense tangles of intricate fingerpicking, as well as slow contemplative melodies, all rich with Spanish flavor. Occasionally Bishop goes for an Eastern raga like vibe instead, and ends up sounding closer to UK guitarist James Blackshaw or Rose at his most drone-y. So so lovely indeed!
Comes packaged in a cool diecut sleeve, a variation on the immediately recognizable Latitudes cd packaging, although this time, white on black instead of white on brown. Includes the same insert as the cd. Pressed on cool grey splatter vinyl. And of course, SUPER SUPER LIMITED!!!
Now, but not for long, on (limited, expensive) vinyl!
Sir Richard Bishop, also known as Rick Bishop of the Sun City Girls, offers up Improvika, the second entry in Locust's Wooden Guitars series, after the compilation of that same name on which he also featured, alongside Tetuzi Akiyama, Jack Rose, and Steffen Basho-Junghans. It's also his second solo record -- his now out-of-print first one, Salvador Kali, was released a few years back on the Revenant, a label begun by the spiritual forefather of the Wooden Guitar concept, John Fahey (R.I.P.). So, as you might already guess, unaccompanied steel string acoustic guitar sketches in the Fahey-established "American Primitive" style are the haps here, with more than a few references to the wide variety of 'world musics' that the Sun City Girls like to celebrate and subvert. Bishop's playing is both impressive and evocative, and anyone caught up in the current craze for Faheyesque guitar solos (and why wouldn't you be?) ought to enjoy Sir Rick's sublime efforts here.
First off, nice pun Sir Richard, nice pun! With a title like The Freak Of Araby, do we really even need to review this? Well, probably not for SRB's legion of fans, who will already have an idea of what to expect here from this master of exotic, intricate guitar playing. For them, the prospect of a new solo album by SRB is automatically a pleasant one, and purchase should occur as automatically as one picks up the new releases on ethnic field recordings label Sublime Frequencies, run by Bishop's brother and fellow former Sun City Girl, Alan. Plus we've heard it, and recommended it too!
Inspired by the music of late Egyptian guitarist Omar Khorshid among others, here SRB presents ten tracks of instrumental improvisations (?) in a Middle Eastern mood. Delicate and detailed, sultry and sandy. Opener "Taqasim For Omar" is quite traditional-sounding, but elsewhere Bishop's electric guitar takes on almost a surfy twang, and thoughts of dusty Spaghetti Western soundtracks might enter ones mind whilst enjoying this record. Most of the tracks feature percussion and other supporting instrumentation, but the focus is certainly on Bishop's adept and evocative six string manipulation. By Sun City Girls standards, this is easy listening, and certainly lovely, reminiscent of some of the SCGs' most accessible stuff. However, echoey FX get laid on thick during track nine, "Sidi Mansour", in case you forgot the "Freak" part of this album's title, while the tenth and final number "Blood-Stained Sands" really shakes things up by abandoning guitar in favor much multilayered buzzing saz (we think it is), for a seven and a half minutes of dervishly whirling, droning delirium that ends the album leaving no doubt about SRB being The Freak Of Araby indeed.
It seems the Last Visible Dog label can do no wrong of late, now bringing us this wonderful album of mellow, melancholy music full of folkish, creaky ambience from Black Forest/Black Sea. It's tailor-made for the Terrastock Nation, if you know what we mean. If you read Broken Face 'zine, or scarf up Jewelled Antler cdrs, or dig what the Wire calls "The New Weird America", or liked their track on the "Invisible Pyramid" compilation, well then this disc of psych-folk action ought to suit you like that shaggy beard suits Kawabata Makoto.
Black Forest/Black Sea are the Providence, RI duo of Jeffery Alexander and Miriam Goldberg (is one the forest and one the sea? dunno). Jeffery plays guitar and Miriam plays cello, primarily, but there's more than just guitar and cello in the mix. We know a couple of their friends help out at times with some shortwave, sax, and general knob-twiddling. But these songs mostly start with melodic guitar picking, oftimes unaccompanied, that may then be joined by doleful cello drone, wavering electronic organ, or perhaps some slow, steady percussion rhythm -- even, on one track, primitive electronic beats from a Casio or something -- always stirring echoes of old world folk and underground '70s kraut jamming. Much of this is instrumental, with what vocals there are -- it must be Miriam singing -- being quite haunting, sometimes simply lurking in the background, wordlessly, melding with the glitchy reel-to-reel tape noises and other non-instrumental, extra-musical textural effects this band employs that add depth and mystery to their simple but effective songs. From spacious droning, possibly improvised passages to downright tuneful 'folky' hooks, this works and works well. We can't see how any of AQ's psych/folk fan customers would want to pass this up. Recommended.
On Chulahoma, Black Keys play six songs by the late blues great Junior Kimbrough. It's not the first time they've covered his music. You might recall their right-on version of "Do The Rump" that was featured on their debut album back in 2002. Here they riff on both the garagey grit of their last album Rubber Factory as well as Kimbrough's traditional raw blues sound. An understated but kick ass tribute to an unsung blues giant!
We play this game around AQ called "Why? Do you like it?" It's designed to not let us be prejudiced by preconceived notions when listening to music. Once in a while when we're playing a record and a co-worker asks we're listing to, rather than just telling them, we'll respond instead with "Why? Do you like it?" Thus the person has to decide if they should be honest, risking embarrassment, 'cause if they say they hate it, it might be something they own and supposedly love, and if they say they love it, it could be that record they claim to hate. It actually works out pretty well. We've all had to fess up to liking stuff we supposedly hated. And we've discovered that records we thought we loved (or at least owned) that we didn't really care for all that much.
It's kind of hard to be unaffected by all the things -other- than the music. Stuff you read, how popular a band is, other folks who like the band. It all colors your opinions whether you want it to or not. So, we always just sort of figured we would hate the Black Keys. I'm not sure we ever even heard them, they just sort of seemed like a band we would hate. Then we went to Arthurfest in L.A. last year, and happened upon a stage where some bad ass blown out psychedelic blues rock band was completely destroying. A two piece, just guitar and drums, and they were loud and heavy, soulful and freaked out. Well, it ends up it was the Black Keys and we were forced, happily we might add, to change our tune. And while once in a while, the Black Keys will dip into bad blues or boring jam rock, for the most part, we have to admit, we really dig these guys! After that fateful show, we went back and checked out their records and that just cemented it. These guys kick ass.
So here we have the latest, not sure if this is the 4th or 5th, but it's another blast of blown out proto-metal psychedelic blues. We're usually opposed to bands who choose to ditch an instrument. No bass player, just drums and bass, whatever. It usually sounds like something is missing. Not so here. These guys sound a little stripped down sure, but it suits them. Gives the guitar room to slither all over the place. A warm wild buzz, over a relentlessly groovy drummer, who pounds and shuffles, and hangs all over every riff, like he's adding his own imaginary bass lines. And the vocals are killer, lazy and sun baked, perfectly complimenting the fuzzy psychrock guitar jams. We hear a lot of Groundhogs, some Zeppelin, which is awesome! A few folks here, thought they heard some Fabulous Thunderbirds. Which is maybe not so. It all sort of depends on what sort of musical background you're bringing to the table. Either way, it's hard to resist this Magic Potion, a gloriously fuzzy, laid back, groove laden, buzzy blues rawk and roll concoction.
Backwoods Appalachian folk twang from this trio composed of fiddle, guitar, and clawhammer banjo courtesy one of the members of Virgina's drone-psych outfit Pelt. This is straightforward old-timey music with absolutely no modern affectations. Warbling vocals and the sounds of distant trains a'passin' by. Almost all the songs are traditional numbers such as "Fair and Tender Ladies",
Second full length from Virginia backwoods trio who play old timey music heavy on the fiddle. Serious barnstorming party music. Cello and homemade baritone banjo make appearances. Any fan of those Revenant releases that have done so well here at AQ (Dock Boggs, Charley Patton, Charlie Feathers, Stanley Brothers) will like these guys.
Third album from these Virginia natives formerly known as the Black Twig Pickers. Building on their previous albums the now quartet -- fiddle, banjo, guitar and bass -- has expanded their sound outwards from their strictly old-timey roots to include more of a bluegrass repertoire. They're vastly improved by the change, with the songs on this album having a greater variety of tempos and arrangements: from lush bluegrass ballads to sparse high lonesome tunes with scratchy fiddle and clawhammer banjo. Additionally the Black Twigs have been woodshedding their songwriting skills, the results of which here are a majority of originals and only four renditions of traditional numbers and standards. Those still lamenting the demise of The Bad Livers should definitely pay heed.
Latest from long time aQ fave, UK guitarist / composer James Blackshaw, and it's his most ambitious record yet, eight movements woven into a single sprawling piece, continuing in his constant evolution from one man, Fahey style neo-Appalachia finger picker, to full fledged composer and band leader. On All Is Falling, Blackshaw plays guitar, piano, glockenspiel, percussion and sings, and is accompanied by a handful of other musicians on violin, flute, saxophone, and cello, the results are stirring and dramatic, lush and totally gorgeous, drawing on classic folk music, modern chamber music, classical and the avant garde. Every movement here is a miniature epic, dense and layered and lush, evocative and emotional, from dark brooding piano pieces, wrapped in clouds of Lubomyr Melnyk like flurries, to folk flecked chamber music, spidery minor key guitar melodies, underpinned by swoonsome strings, evoking a lost time, another era, to warm swirling tangles of Appalachia, here set amidst lush swells and more soaring strings. The first five movements all flow seamlessly, a dark gorgeous timeless bit of cinematic chamber folk, which culminates in the final three movements, beginning with "Part 6", a complex looped bit of folky lilt, with powerful percussion, and what sounds like someone counting our the strange time signature, which leads right into the 12 minute "Part 7", beginning with a post rocky strand of looped guitar, which is soon mirrored by the strings, ratcheting up the tension, and the motion, a dizzying almost round, growing more and more dense, more and more complex, multiple melodies constantly shifting and intertwining, as the track seems to grow more atonal, as if it's slowly crumbling, detuning, eventually winding down completely, before the final movement comes in, a slow building, softly pulsing swell, a gorgeous hazy bit of layered drone music, the various overtones creating muted rhythms, and strange harmonies, lush and ominous and hauntingly lovely. A strangely and beautifully abstract ending to an otherwise deeply melodic and wonderfully lush bit of modern composition.
Until the next list, the cd version of All is Falling will be on sale, $2 off the normal $14.98!!
Sure, all you drone obsessives and out rock freaks can't get enough Celebrate Psi Phenomenon, an endless fount of whir and rumble and skree and grrr and rrroooaarrr. But this new record from James Blackshaw is a whole 'nother ball of... um.. steel strings apparently. Celeste is made up of two 15 minute tracks (one played in open C major tuning, the other in open C minor) of totally mesmerizing Appalachian raga folk, performed mainly on 12-string acoustic guitar with occasional farfisa organ and cymbals. Fans of John Fahey, Jack Rose, Matt Valentine and all things free folk will be completely blown away. There's still an element of drone in the repetitive raga-like riffing, but this is mainly and most definitely a weird and wonderful modern avant bluegrass / folk record. Lovely! SUPER LIMITED AS ALWAYS!! NOT SURE WE'LL BE ABLE TO GET MORE WHEN THESE ARE GONE!
NOW ON VINYL!! (Includes free cd of the album too!)
So on his last album, Blackshaw stepped into new territory with some orchestral instrumentation, even laying down a few piano tracks. And even though we didn't think it was possible, he just might have outdone himself, yet again, with his most dynamic album to date, The Glass Bead Game, released on the infamous Young God Records. Most aQ costumers are well aware of the talent and mystery that surrounds Mr. Blackshaw and his twelve-string mastery. And while we've really dug all of his numerous past albums, it seems like Blackshaw has never sounded so confident in his mantra-like finger picking and ornate compositions. With the freedom to compose works for piano, strings, flute, clarinet and a choir, Blackshaw's vision has grown from a small sprout into a sea of blooming vines.
It baffles us how cinematic this stuff is. These tracks all tell epic tales of being lost at sea, nighttime woodland campfires, sad goodbyes and lonely mornings, all without any lyrics. Sometimes there are these moments where Blackshaw will simply change chords and suddenly the piece takes on a whole new feel, a whole new sound, and you can't help but feel emotionally struck. His playing is so recognizable and distinguished from his solo-guitar peers, a perfect marriage of patients and skill, droning and droning on one chord only to build suspense and anticipation before suddenly revealing the next movement, so good! And there's something about his playing that is so European, so different from the Americana-type sound of other finger pickin' contemporaries. Blackshaw's pieces seem to shimmer with an ethereal haze that faintly glows like an old lantern in the woods, casting flickering light on faces of spirits in the night.
The Glass Bead Games starts things off running with a lush harmonium drone and Blackshaw's quick, raga-esque finger picking soaring above. Gradually female vocals and strings creep in to blanket Blackshaw's guitar in a silky ambience, creating an almost dreamlike experience. We really love how the vocals have this Philip Glass or Steve Reich orchestral kind of vibe. Instead of long swells the voices are short, repetitive wordless ohs and ahs, kind of like some carousel organ or angelic harp. "Cross" builds and retreats in some cosmic ebb and flow, continually swirling with deep, melodic range and heartfelt emotion, all with the twelve string at its glowing core. "Bled", the second track, begins with a slow, contemplative mood. Notes plucked then left to dissipate into thin air. Somber and desolate, the piece only grows into a dark journey through Eastern ragas and into celestial radiance, only to return in the 9th minute to the opening, contemplative passage. ��
The album comes to a gorgeous close with the 18 minute "Arc". With James on the piano, he builds from quiet contemplative drops of rain into huge waves of quickly flourishing arpeggios, not all that different sounding from his guitar picking. We totally love how his style and aesthetic remains intact, whether he's sitting at the piano or with a guitar on his knee, his close attention to detail and use of hypnotic, emotionally captivating melodies shines throughout. Notes flickering and shimmering about as overtones soar above like clouds. There's so much about this record that you can get fully wrapped up in, so much detail it would be impossible to absorb it all in just one listen. We've already been listening to Glass Bead Game for over a week, and still new details keep popping out of the woodwork. And to top it off, beautifully fitting, earth-toned artwork of various birds of prey perfectly adorns the album with some magical visual hex. By far our favorite Blackshaw album to date and quite possibly his best, highly and fully recommended!
With each new James Blackshaw release, we're always amazed at how someone who works within such a small musical framework can continuously exceed our expectations. Definitely a favorite among favorites of solo guitarists, Blackshaw has bulked up his arsenal of compositional approaches by introducing for the first time the use of piano as a key element. Bookending the album are two long form pieces of solo piano in a minimalist style that remind us of Charlemagne Palestine or Lubomyr Melnyk. When the twelve string is first heard on the second track, it's not before we're set up with a foundation of resonant timbres of violin and viola (played by Fran Bury) that give weight to the airy modal improvisations of the guitar. Adding subtle layers of richness and dynamics, the strings ground and support the ringing overtones of the 12 string creating complex harmonies to the pulsating melodies. We can't imagine we'll ever tire of hearing Blackshaw's shimmering textural pieces. Amazing how sound so deep, dark, damp and resonant can be so transcendentally uplifting.
Of these three new James Blackshaw cd reissues of long out of print cd-r's, Lost Prayers & Motionless Dances is the only one of the three that we never managed to carry at all. We've long gone on and on about how records this good deserve to be heard by more than the 100 or 200 lucky folks who manage to get their hands on the limited cd-r's, and finally, someone (thanks Tompkins Square!) had the good sense to gussy these discs up and give them the actual proper cd reissue they so deserve.
Originally released as a cd-r on Digitalis, limited to 200 copies in 2004, this one slipped right under our radar, which is a huge shame as it is just as good as Sunshrine or Celeste. But it's also quite different. Where as the other discs focus on Blackshaw's deft fingerpicking, and mastery of the steel string guitar, this disc is just as much about the drone and the ambience. Not to say, Blackshaw doesn't get to unleash dexterous little tangles of Appalachian filigree, but those stretches of strum and shimmer are set amidst thick harmonium drones and blissed out field recordings.
The disc begins with a warm whirring drone, all thick wheezes and rich lustrous chords, Eastern melodies, drawn way out into long soft smears. Eventually the guitar joins in, but simple spare strums, soft chords, and gentle fingerpicking, nestled amidst the softly undulating harmonium in the background, the sounds of crickets chirping in the distance, bits of slippery sitar style squiggles. The sound gradually slips into something much more familiar, 'that' Blackshaw sound we love so much, a lot like the other reissued discs, until the guitar fades out, leaving a murky muted shimmer, which soon fades out as well, leaving nothing a strange high end hiss-scape of weird processed percussion and shortwave radio, peppered with bits of high end jangle and distant upper register guitar scrape and disembodied clatter, before the track finally shifts gears once again, filling the last few minutes with urgently strummed guitar, big chunky chords, moaning harmoniums, and billowing splashes of deep resonant cymbal shimmer, a glorious kinetic finish to a another gorgeous sprawling languorous guitardronedrift.
Remastered and with new artwork.
We often lament the state of musical affairs that would render records that are as good as anything and everything we've heard by James Blackshaw to be so limited as to only be heard by a mere handful of people. But until now that has indeed been the case. Cd-r after gorgeous cd-r, limited to 200 copies, 100 copies, even less in some instances. But music this beautiful, this lush, this lovely definitely deserves a wider audience, even if its cd-r / underground / outsider / avant folk / new weird America cache suffers accordingly. Who cares? Who -can- care when faced with the sounds on O True Believers. Over the last few years, Blackshaw has found a home amongst free noise fellows and their fans (Celebrate Psi Phenomenon, Birchville Cat Motel, Rameses III, Vibracathedral Orchestra, Sunroof!, Avarus, etc.) even though his sound hewed much closer to Fahey and the like, a stark but sweet steel string Appalachia. Here, that sound is even more stark, more spare and oh so even sweeter. The opening two tracks will have you swooning, or drifting off, or swaying in some glorious mesmerized state or whatever it is you do when you find yourself submerged in some lush swirl of tonal dreaminess, 30 full minutes of guitar, mostly just guitar, spacious and grand, lilting and delicate, no whir or fuzz or rumble or any of the other sonic detritus that usually decorates most of the music like this we love -- no this is crystal clear and crystalline, shimmering and glistening, as if Blackshaw was some strange musical alchemist who discovered how to use a guitar to describe leaves covered in dew, green grass sparkling with morning frost, the sun reflecting on a placid pond, silvery streaks of sunlight filtered through the interwoven branches overhead. It's like wandering into a lost glade, laying in a thick soft patch of grass, and slowly sinking into the ground, until you BECOME the forest around you, sinking into a warm, wash of tranquil otherworldliness. Towards the end of track two, the guitars are joined by cymbalon, tamboura, and bells, and what was only moments earlier some sort of mysterious Appalachian folk, becomes a slow burning blissed out raga, steel strings buzz, each note smeared into warm drones, then sprinkled with delicate chimes and reverberating bells. Track three is equally as blissful, but is constructed quite differently, the guitar lines speed up and become intense and intricate tangles of notes, so snug that the melodies blur and stretch out melodic whirs, while lush major key swells, ebb and flow in the background, a swaying swooning sweetness. The final track is almost jubilant by comparison and 'rocks' as much as any foresty free folk Appalachia can be thought to rock, dense steel string strums, a simple percussive framework of cymbals and chimes, the whole thing wrapped in the wonderfully warm wheeze of a harmonium, adding a thick warm fuzzy patina to the sparkling steel shimmer beneath.
More gorgeously lush neo-Appalachia from James Blackshaw, finally released on a real cd instead of an ultralimited cd-r, which makes perfect sense as this is way too good to be so limited. Two tracks, the first an extended thirty minute epic, a lush and completely gorgeous steel string raga, huge dense sweeps of intricately finger picked guitar, dense with reverb, accompanied by sarod, harmonium, Farfisa organ, glockenspiel, bells and bowed cymbals. Overwhelmingly beautiful and impossibly otherworldly. Expressive and aggressive but completely delicate and introspective at the same time. The end of the track is especially powerful when the guitars fade out and all that is left is the thick wheezing drone of the harmonium and a cloud of tinkling bells. The final three minutes is a very Fahey-esque, steel string guitar workout, gorgeous folky twang, simple and so lovely.
Packaged in a gold metallic paper sleeve with a small printed insert.
A very limited (and very expensive) lp version (pressed on nice thick vinyl and housed in a gorgeous sleeve) of the two most recent releases from guitarist James Blackshaw (one a new cd reviewed elsewhere on this list, the other a cd-r release from earlier in 2005). We only got a handful of these and once they are gone, they are probably gone for good.
Here's what we had to say about the Celeste cd-r:
Celeste is made up of two 15 minute tracks (one played in open C major tuning, the other in open C minor) of totally mesmerizing Appalachian raga folk, performed mainly on 12-string acoustic guitar with occasional farfisa organ and cymbals. Fans of John Fahey, Jack Rose, Matt Valentine and all things free folk will be completely blown away. There's still an element of drone in the repetitive raga-like riffing, but this is mainly and most definitely a weird and wonderful modern avant bluegrass / folk record. Lovely!
And here's what we have to say about Sunshrine:
More gorgeously lush neo-Appalachia from James Blackshaw, finally released on a real cd instead of an ultralimited cd-r, which makes perfect sense as this is way too good to be so limited. Two tracks, the first an extended thirty minute epic, a lush and completely gorgeous steel string raga, huge dense sweeps of intricately finger picked guitar, dense with reverb, accompanied by sarod, harmonium, Farfisa organ, glockenspiel, bells and bowed cymbals. Overwhelmingly beautiful and impossibly otherworldly. Expressive and aggressive but completely delicate and introspective at the same time. The end of the track is especially powerful when the guitars fade out and all that is left is the thick wheezing drone of the harmonium and a cloud of tinkling bells. The final three minutes is a very Fahey-esque, steel string guitar workout, gorgeous folky twang, simple and so lovely.
So on his last album, Blackshaw stepped into new territory with some orchestral instrumentation, even laying down a few piano tracks. And even though we didn't think it was possible, he just might have outdone himself, yet again, with his most dynamic album to date, The Glass Bead Game, released on the infamous Young God Records. Most aQ costumers are well aware of the talent and mystery that surrounds Mr. Blackshaw and his twelve-string mastery. And while we've really dug all of his numerous past albums, it seems like Blackshaw has never sounded so confident in his mantra-like finger picking and ornate compositions. With the freedom to compose works for piano, strings, flute, clarinet and a choir, Blackshaw's vision has grown from a small sprout into a sea of blooming vines.
It baffles us how cinematic this stuff is. These tracks all tell epic tales of being lost at sea, nighttime woodland campfires, sad goodbyes and lonely mornings, all without any lyrics. Sometimes there are these moments where Blackshaw will simply change chords and suddenly the piece takes on a whole new feel, a whole new sound, and you can't help but feel emotionally struck. His playing is so recognizable and distinguished from his solo-guitar peers, a perfect marriage of patients and skill, droning and droning on one chord only to build suspense and anticipation before suddenly revealing the next movement, so good! And there's something about his playing that is so European, so different from the Americana-type sound of other finger pickin' contemporaries. Blackshaw's pieces seem to shimmer with an ethereal haze that faintly glows like an old lantern in the woods, casting flickering light on faces of spirits in the night.
The Glass Bead Games starts things off running with a lush harmonium drone and Blackshaw's quick, raga-esque finger picking soaring above. Gradually female vocals and strings creep in to blanket Blackshaw's guitar in a silky ambience, creating an almost dreamlike experience. We really love how the vocals have this Philip Glass or Steve Reich orchestral kind of vibe. Instead of long swells the voices are short, repetitive wordless ohs and ahs, kind of like some carousel organ or angelic harp. "Cross" builds and retreats in some cosmic ebb and flow, continually swirling with deep, melodic range and heartfelt emotion, all with the twelve string at its glowing core. "Bled", the second track, begins with a slow, contemplative mood. Notes plucked then left to dissipate into thin air. Somber and desolate, the piece only grows into a dark journey through Eastern ragas and into celestial radiance, only to return in the 9th minute to the opening, contemplative passage. ��
The album comes to a gorgeous close with the 18 minute "Arc". With James on the piano, he builds from quiet contemplative drops of rain into huge waves of quickly flourishing arpeggios, not all that different sounding from his guitar picking. We totally love how his style and aesthetic remains intact, whether he's sitting at the piano or with a guitar on his knee, his close attention to detail and use of hypnotic, emotionally captivating melodies shines throughout. Notes flickering and shimmering about as overtones soar above like clouds. There's so much about this record that you can get fully wrapped up in, so much detail it would be impossible to absorb it all in just one listen. We've already been listening to Glass Bead Game for over a week, and still new details keep popping out of the woodwork. And to top it off, beautifully fitting, earth-toned artwork of various birds of prey perfectly adorns the album with some magical visual hex. By far our favorite Blackshaw album to date and quite possibly his best, highly and fully recommended!
Probably quite limited (Kning Discs are usually not long for this world!) live release from AQ fave UK guitarist James Blackshaw. Recorded in Goteborg, Sweden at the end of May this year, Blackshaw's live performance of the best of his catalog (Sunshrine, Celeste, and two songs from O True Believers) does not disappoint. For those who are not familiar with Blackshaw's majestic 12-string finger picking abilities (O True Believers was record of the week, a few lists back), this live document is a true testament to his amazing skills. Not a note is out of place and the sound quality is breathtaking. Don't miss out. We only have about 20 of these and may or may not be able to get any more when we run out, we don't know!
We're huge fans of pianist and composer Lubomyr Melnyk, his playing so distinctive, his Continuous Music System and the way he creates dense flurries of notes, and lush chordal cascades - it's transcendent, a sort of swirling, almost psychedelic modern classical / new age hybrid, the sound dreamlike but rife with melodic subtleties and tonal colorations that make his music prismatic and expansive and impossible to mistake for anybody else. We also love Blackshaw, in a field of modern minimal guitarists, mining classic Americana, we often find ourselves drawn to his interpretation, one that's not always so minimal, slipping easily from a Melnyk like style of whipping up clouds of swirling chords and notes, to weaving lush landscapes of dark dreamlike chamber music.
Not sure whose idea it was to put these guys together, or if they were simply the sort of like minded artists who eventually find each other, but whatever the reason, or whoever is responsible, we're so grateful, and glad that this sonic summit took place. And it's just about as fantastic as you might hope. Four long form compositions, both Melnyk and Blackshaw effortlessly unfurling lush swaths of swirling melody, Blackshaw's guitar bathed in the reverb and overtones of Melnyk's piano, the sound sometimes so blurred it's hard to tell who's playing what, and that constant shift is part of what makes this so mesmerizing, the tracks hypnotic and tranced out, dreamy and melodic and woozily tranquil, but still sonically super active, each track is like a thick billowing cloud of dreamy melodic drift, the musical equivalent of a jar of fireflies, look away, and the world is lit by a soft warm glow, but look closely and that light is revealed as a dense whorl of tiny little lights, swooping and shimmering. The sound these two conjure up occasionally slips into something more folky, or more classical, but most often meets right in the middle, heavenly and hypnotic, rife with lilting melodies, and warm sonic swells. When things do slow down, the music settles into a moody melancholy shimmer, but those moments are fleeting, with the two tending to slowly add and build until the sound swirls and swoops and soars skyward, and blossoms once again into something truly transcendent.
The vinyl version is limited to 500 copies.
This would have been a perfect entry on last week's "Ragadelic" in-between list, the debut solo recording from Guy Blakeslee, who most folks know as the man behind The Entrance Band. This is super limited, only 50 copies made, so we won't go into too much detail about it except that it is utterly amazing! Five long-form solo guitar excursions that cover Fahey-ish odes ("Oh Johnnie") to more raga-style workouts (check the Fahey-inspired titles like "Solitary Ecstasy Holiday Smile Prayer"). The last song, "The Night They Came From The Sky", is a 17 minute mind-expanding stew of looping reverse-delayed riffs that wind and coil in infinite meditative patterns. Rumor has it more volumes are in the works. A fantastic set. Get it while you can!
We flipped for the first installment in Guy Blakeslee's Thirdeye Memories cd-r series, which we described on the last list in our review of Volume 1 as falling somewhere between Fahey-like devotional Appalachia and more droned out abstract looped and layered psychedelic ragas, and for those of you (like us) who felt like one volume just wasn't enough, well, you might want to grab one of these before they're gone, cuz like the first one it's limited to just FIFTY copies (and we do have a tiny handful left of volume 1 if you missed out). Blakeslee is the frontman for psych rockers The Entrance Band, but for these solo excursions, the sound is much more intimate, and delicate and lovely, the opener here is a glistening sprawl of dreamlike guitar melodies, super fluid finger picking, the vibe almost carol-like, a warm glowing swirl of lovely Appalachian folk. But it doesn't take long for the disc to drift into far trippier realms, "Digital Sage" takes the sound of the opener and turns it inside out, flips it backwards, adding gloriously slippery reverse melodies and woozy shimmery FX blur, it's the sort of dreamy sonic trip out we could get lost in forever. And so it goes, the whole record unfurling in a washed out kosmische dream folk haze, slipping from crystalline beauty to dreamily dizzying trippy psych swirl, and back again, perfectly balancing sweet melodies, with something a bit more shadowy and lysergic. Like the first volume, fantastic! And like the first volume, packaged in a simple screen printed origami style sleeve, LIMITED TO 50 COPIES, each one hand numbered!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
Fuck yes. It had to happen. The mother of all grindcore bands has descended upon us and you have simply never in your life heard anything as monstrously bone-crushing as this. Featuring not one, not two, not three, but SEVEN separate vocalists, bellowing forth, respectively -- ultra gut-rumbling low, maniacally cat-butchering mostly low, illegally brutal low-mid, hardcore shout, slightly high yelp, catatonic maple screech, and tree-felling supersonic scream -- the almighty Blast Beast is augmented additionally by four distinct drummers, two of which do nothing but blast in tandem, virtually quadrupling standard drum speeds. One drummer is left doing fills and rolls incessantly while the last Batteronimus Maximus (supposedly his legal birth-name!) plays a 12-piece kit assembled entirely of bass drums, leaving the notion of double bass a thing of the past. In fact the liner notes of the record include certified testimony from the controversial Auditory Regulation Statutes and BPM Limitation Committee of Canada that an estimated 72 to 73 percent of the sound recorded on this release is physically too fast for the human ear to discern, registering only a piercing single note to people but deemed "highly unsuitable" for households including dogs or feathered pets. Still the few moments you can make out are fucking steam-rolling bulldozingly insane! Think Brutal Truth meets Discordance Axis meets Nile at Human Remains' practice space with the guys from Pig Destroyer, Cryptopsy, Morbid Angel and Mortician jamming along -- all at the same time! With a whopping 147 songs (eighteen minutes total) this release is simply too fucking brutal for words -- get this now!
Ever wonder, why are so many blues guitarists blind? Talk about an occupational hazard. This is the fourth blind blues guitarist the Monk label has featured after Blind Willie McTell, Blind Willie Johnson, and Blind Lemon Jefferson. Perhaps it's the visionary contradiction of their particular affliction, that gives them such an incredible insight into the human condition. Like biblical prophets and ancient oracles, the only ones who 'see' things as they truly are happen to be blind. Blind Blake (not to be confused with the calypso Blind Blake of the fifties) may be the most obscure of the four (at least to us), but he was immensely successful for the Paramount label in the twenties and early thirties. Hailing from Florida, Blake was known for being the "King of Ragtime Guitar", for his unique guitar style that sounded like he was playing ragtime piano using the six strings of the guitar. His technique was so formidable that it has been little copied. Recording at least 79 songs in his incredibly short life span (he died at the age of 40 under mysterious and rumored to be scandalous circumstances), this collection covers 17 of his earliest and most popular recordings and is not to be missed for any fan of vintage blues.
This is Monk's second Blind Blake collection, and like the first, it showcases some of the most impressive and mysterious blues guitar work ever. Like many of the original bluesmen, Arthur Blake's personal story is a mystery. His music is his legacy, and though categorized by many today as blues, these songs cover a wide range of styles and show a serious command of the guitar that has led to much speculation about Blake's formative years. Indeed, his reputation as king of the ragtime guitarists may be the result of some jazz training and time spent in ensemble groups. His polished East Coast style went over quite well with audiences during his active years from 1926 to 1933. Despite this success, Blake's death under mysterious circumstances blurred things even further. Luckily he left behind a strong legacy that has led to scores of imitators and an assured status in the history of recorded music. For this one, Monk ventures beyond their usual graphic design, completely aping the artwork from a Yazoo Blind Blake collection instead. Still, looks pretty nice. The music, of course, speaks for itself.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
