Delia Derbyshire may embody the otherworldly beauty and mystique behind the sounds of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, but John Baker was its alchemical heart. Who else could take a simple tone from air being blown over a bottle and make it into a warm and electrifying panorama of melodious sound? This is the first of two volumes of rare and unreleased pieces from the heyday of the BBC; this one covering the years 1963-1969. In it we find TV adverts, library pieces, jazzy soundtracks, radiophonic pieces and home recordings as well as interviews on how he made the sounds contained here. Baker had a knack for melody, and often imbibed his mechanically made recordings with a warmth and playfulness that his more mathematically inclined contemporaries lacked. Yet he could also establish veils of mystery and drawn out suspense in his carefully composed themes. But Baker's real talent is brevity. With most of the 49(!) tracks contained here lasting under a minute, he evokes a complex and engaging sound world that is perfectly encapsulated within its minute long timeframe. Baker is the first of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop composers to get such a retrospective overview. Hopefully this means we'll see more individual overviews from this important laboratory of recorded sound very soon.
Another 'witch house' luminary gets their first proper (non cd-r or download) release in the form of this gorgeous 5 song ep. For those who have somehow missed out on the whole witch house thing, it's sort of hard to describe, a new self proclaimed genre that seems to mix electronic music with dark creepy samples, everything slowed down and murky and witchy, ethereal vocals, distorted production, there's already a serious backlash because of the ridiculous witch house hype, which is pretty funny, considering probably all but the very hippest folks have barely even heard any witch house.
We reviewed the debut 12" from oOoOO a few lists back (all the witch house bands tend to have names that borrow heavily from the zapf dingbats font and the special keys on your keyboard), a fantastically dreamy chunk of electronic ghostly minimal dream pop, we also made Salem's King Night our Record of the Week, with its bombastic shoegaze bliss meets chopped and screwed Southern style crunk, but Balam Acab definitely tends toward the former, the two part title track a fuzzy, almost dubsteppy bit of gently glitchy gauziness, angelic vocals, wreathed in reverb, drifting over swirling industrial loops and shimmering synths, the second part totally blissed out and otherworldly, the beats spare and skeletal, the vocals floating on clouds of whirling effects and blurred melody, while in between, basslines buzz ominously, beats careen in slow motion, voices loop and hover, melodies fragment and drift apart, the sound like some eighties MTV pop slowed way down and dipped in drugs and left in the afternoon sun to warm, fuzzy streaks of sound wrapped around stuttery glacial beats, "Big Boy" offering up a hook on par with "See Birds", while "Dream Out" sounds like a warped Kate Bush record playing at 16rpm, while kids play video games in the next room.
Awesome stuff. And we could care less really if the hipster intelligentsia has decided witch house is dead, cuz we're definitely dying to hear more...
Two gorgeous longform tracks of psychedelic nu-age made with electric guitar, synths and field recordings from this Bay-Area based multi-instrumentalist and Psychic Arts label-head. The A-side, a deep excursion into synth drones that leads to an exuberant takeoff of ecstatic and majestic electric guitar leads, was only released on vinyl in an edition of ONE for his girlfriend/wife, so we can basically say these two tracks have not been widely available to a large audience. The B-side is more meditative with delicate filigrees of guitar widely spaced between long passages of field recordings of bird sounds and ocean waves. Both tracks filling up either side of the tape, these are two keen examples of intrepid guitar and synth wizardry from one of the Bay Area's finest practitioners. Limited!
Second collaboration from longtime aQ fave Matt Baldwin and his multi instrumentalist co-conspirator, and like Year Of The Dog before it, Dream Still is another mesmerizing blur of psychedelic layers and swirling looped ambience, think Fripp, Rother, Gottsching and of course Reich and Riley. But instead of en exercise in rigid minimalism, this is some seriously freaky far out psychedelia. Listening to opener "Notes On Entering The Tower", it's not hard to imagine this as some lost recording from the seventies, it's got a little Miles Davis going on, a little Herbie Hancock circa Sextant, Baldwin and Georis delivering a sort of washed out kosmische psych-funk groove that comes in waves, most of the track spent blissfully looping, trance-y and hypnotic, but then the drums slip in and sound builds to something more propulsive and druggy and mesmerizing. Total seventies style psych groove bliss out.
The two part "Dream Still" suite is a bit less druggy, and instead is delicate and dreamlike, the first part almost like classic Appalachia, but the fingerpicked steel string melodies, laced with hushed piano melodies, and wreathed in clouds of swirling sci-fi FX and warm spaced out synth shimmer, while the second part, pushes the sound back into a sort of psychedelic krautrock territory, another loopscape of pulsing synths and layered guitar, hushed and minimal and motorik, with just a hint of that groove from the first track.
Until finally, Baldwin and Georis finish things off with the sprawling 13+ minute "Boogie Corporation", which adds some primitive programmed rhythms to the mix, sounding like a groovier more seventies sounding Expo 70, the guitars layered and looped, not quite a 'boogie', but definitely with some groove going on, and very much in line with the opening track, warm washes of synth shimmer beneath almost-funky guitars, with melodies and textures piling up and constantly shifting, the sounds swirling and space-y, the keyboards dreamily tangled up with the spidery guitars, total trip out celestial psych kraut mesmer, that even at 13 minutes ends way too soon.
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES. Each one hand numbered. Housed in plain cardstock origami style fold over sleeves, with black and white paste on artwork and a photocopied insert.
After falling so deeply in love with Matt Baldwin's recent cd-r release, Imaginary Psychology, earlier this year, we knew that this bay area guitar wizard had really come into his own, exploring exciting new terrain in reaching epic psychedelic bliss.
This new outing finds Baldwin collaborating with multi-instrumentalist Nico Georgis, as they create two long form pieces that explore a more textured and layered sort of kosmische drift. The first track, "Year Of The Dog", finds Baldwin employing guitar, guitar-synth, as well as loops and delay, while Georis contributes clavinet, Wurlitzer piano, percussion, a Prophet 600, and a MicroKorg to create a meditative movement that's like some pulsating dreamscape conjured up by Robert Fripp, Michael Rother, Ash Ra Tempel, Manuel Gottsching, and/or John Cale. It taps into a sound that folks like Mark McGuire/Emeralds, White Rainbow, Bitchin Bajas, and Arp have been exploring, but with a much more organic and warm approach.
"Juan Carlos" is the other massive track here, an improv psych-jam, that features Juan Carlos Morales Tablada on congas and percussion. It starts with a slow build that immediately entrances as its sounds are both so connected to the earth, yet do such an amazing job of taking you to another dimension. In some ways the vibe makes us think of another one of our favorite cd-r releases from this year, Eat The Earth, by fellow San Francisco psych improv masters 3 Leafs.
Hand numbered and limited to 50 copies, this one is a no brainer. Don't miss out!
Seems like all we have to do is blink and voila! Another batch of freaky and far out Jyrk cd-r releases materializes. We're not complaining, we're just saying is all. So here's the first of this installment's threesome, by the very mysterious Ball Lightning, who just so happens to be William Sabiston, the percussionist for Axolotl. 18 tracks in 20 minutes, brief little snippets of sound, a sound that is pretty dang tough to describe. Some weird mix of Sunburned Hand Of The Man tribalism, some skittery percussive free jazz and some sort-of-electronics, a super listenable hodge podge of rhythmic exploration. Clicking, shuffling, squeaking, pulsing, pounding mini soundscapes of glitch and click and buzz and throb and stutter and clang and clatter. This disc almost sounds like someone took a twenty minute This Heat outtake, chopped it up into minute long pieces, mixed them all up and reassembled the tape. Cool and hypnotic and very very weird.
LIMITED TO 150 COPIES. WE GOT 30 COPIES, ONCE THESE ARE GONE, THEY ARE GONE FOR GOOD, IT'S ALREADY OUT OF PRINT AT THE LABEL!
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Members of Polish avant-hippy collective Atman (aka Magic Carpathians) are involved with this project, the title of which we think translates into English as "Baltic Whisperings". Recordings of seals swimming in the Baltic Sea are augmented with moog, guitar, woodwinds, plus various other instruments and electronics. They've created an aquatic musical document of bathing, breathing creatures and drifting, gorgeous, and sometimes sinister, shimmering soundscapes. This is the kind of "new age" music we can like. Very limited availability.
Just like all of the productions for Fallt's "Invallid Object Series," Cards On The Table is a 3"CD that is meant to be played through the random function on your CD player. In fact, the entire process of this album revolves around chance, with the artists
We often get mysterious packages in the mail. Sometimes a tape, or a handful of 7"s, often surprisingly, with no info whatsoever, no note, no nothing. Which in some ways is cool, nothing to go on but the music itself, and the packaging. But unfortunately, sometimes it takes us a while to listen to everything, which means once in a while, we hear something we dig, and realize we have no way of tracking the band or the label down.
So a while back, we got a little package of 7"s in the mail, and they looked amazing. Transparent vellum sleeves, clear vinyl, the word 'Tickles' printed on the front in a cool font, a weird painting/picture of a stoplight pasted on the front, and a manga style drawing of a diner on the back, with a sad lonely girl sitting by herself underneath a sign for vegetable burgers and beans. Very strange.
It wasn't until a few days ago, months and months after the 7"s showed up at the store, that someone from the band finally contacted us and gave is the lowdown. We never noticed, but printed in tiny letters on the back is the name of the band, The Banana Crew, which is apparently the name of the group, but it's not just a group, it's also a sort of arts collective, and this, "Tickles" is their first musical document. If you're anything like us, a band called Banana Crew with a record called Tickles might not have sounded all that promising, but we were pleasantly surprised to discover, the music of BC was a sort of Gary Numan / Kraftwerk style krautwave machinemusic electro pop, all fuzzy synths, shuffling snares, tinkling melodies and moody dramatic new wave vocals. A definite eighties vibe, one that positions BC amongst many other contemporary acts mining that much maligned decade, taking a sort of Daft Punk thing, stripping it way down, and slowing it down, a sci-fi retro electronic future pop that's hazy, and dreamy, and softly propulsive, definitely with a little of that Carpenter soundtrack feel, but the vocals turn it into the sort of futuristic electro pop that groups like Soft Metals, White Car, Blank Dogs, Gary War, Greatest Hits and Autre Ne Veut and the like have been exploring lately as well...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Hallelujah, another issue of the most esoteric music magazine out there. Neil Hamburger (hilarious tour diary), Monde Bruits, Climax Golden Twins, Iancu Dumitrescu, Sufi Mind Game, Crank Sturgeon, Stillupsteypa, etc... all featured in the mag as well as on the accompanying cd.
Reynols (yay!), Vote Robot, Jazzfinger, Panicsville, Polar Goldie Cats, Octavian Nemescu, Margaret Murray, and many other even more obscure artists/musicians are featured either in the pages of, and/or on the bonus cd that comes with with, this latest installment of one of 'zinedoms most eccentric institutions. Paradoxically, Bananafish has always been both an enlightening and confusing read, and these new 164 pages maintain that reputation.
Yay, another issue of Bananafish, repository for the weird, wonderful and noisy. We like.
"All tracks on CD are exclusive (or virtually so) and directly related to the content of the magazine: Christine Shields (interview with this issue's cover artist, the author behind surreal, dreamlike Blue Hole comic book, and banjo-player for Appalachia-influenced Grouse Mountain Skyride). Mal Sharpe (Interview with author, jazz musician, and Man-on-the-Street interviewer most well known as half of '60s prankster duo Coyle and Sharpe, whose legendary put-ons have been released on CD by the 21361 and Thirsty Ear labels). Ana-Maria Avram (translation of an interview by Costin Cazaban with Romanian acousmatic composer and Editions Modern recording artist whose uncompromising, demanding music gives heavyweights like Dumitrescu and Fernando Grillo a run for the money). Volcano the Bear (interview by Neil Campbell with this mind-expanding UK surrealist quartet whose music straddles 'a strange, ambiguous line between comforting and terrifying') mad-cow.org (interview with Dr. Thomas Pringle, webmaster of the Sperling Biomedical Foundation's site containing almost 8,000 articles on mad cow and Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, prions, bovine spongiform encephalopathy, scrapie, and numerous other crimes against nature)."
Sadly, the last ever ish (so we're told) of this long-running avantgarde music n' art magazine... And it remains entertainingly dense with confusion to the last. Obscure isn't obscure until it's been celebrated (and futher obscured) in the pages of Bananafish. This final issue leaves us with info and interviews with Jim Leftwich ("experimental writer, visual poet..."), Burning Star Core ("violin/electronics/voice iconoclast"), Nelson Gastaldi ("Argentinean psych-spatial composer"), Montract ("group of beach-blanket acidheads"), and Joe Colley ("ex-Crawl Unit noise mumbler"). There's also "surreal, interdisiplinary" comics from Mecca Normal guitarist David Lester and of course pages and pages of reviews of all kinds of noisy, fucked up music -- reviews that quite often are more interesting than the music itself, we sometimes suspect. Plus the requisite bonus cd that comes with the magazine, with stuff from all the above mentioned artists, including lots of excerpts from cassettes found by Joe Colley. Ah Bananfish, we'll miss ya.
Band of Pain straddles the fence between the austere deep listening isolationism of Andrew Chalk and the nightmarish dark ambient of Lustmord. Ghastly drones creep along with microscopic textures and hypnotic pudding rhythms. Stefan Jaworzyn - of Ascension - makes a guest appearance. Very, very good.
The funny thing about Banjo Or Freakout, is you'll find neither on their records. Okay, well maybe a -little- freakout. But mostly, BoFO traffic in some seriously buzzy, warm and warbly fuzz drenched indie folk noise pop, acoustic guitars, vocal harmonies, some almost programmed sounding drums, total power pop hooks, think Neutral Milk Hotel, the Comas, Apples In Stereo, but filtered through the new breed of pop deconstructionists like Ducktails, Thee Oh Sees and the like.
The A side is all jangle and buzz and croon and will totally hit the spot and fill that Neutral Milk Hotel shaped hole in your heart, the B side though is totally blown out, absolute woozy shoegazy bliss, everything looped and hypnotic and buried under a haze of guitars and buzzy effects. And then there's the trippy rhythmic closer, equal parts Avarus style tribal clatter and drum circle kraut jam and Animal Collective outsider pop bliss. This record rules. Need to hear more bad!!
An earnest and bespectacled introvert may be what you have in mind when it comes to the visage of a new age musician. Maybe a bunch of crystals casting prismatic beams of light simultaneously from candles and streams of sunlight. Maybe a billowy sarong as garb with a plethora of beads around the neck. According to the liner notes for the acclaimed I Am The Center compilation of New Age private pressings and rare recordings from the '70s and '80s, Mark Banning came across looking more like a "broke down Hells Angel." The context of busted knuckles and oil-stained leather is a wonderful counterpoint to enshroud a pristine sparkle of quiet New Age ambience for guitar, zither, and soft electronics. Tracy, California is the town where Banning called home at the time; and that's one of the neighboring communities to the fictional city of Charming from the TV motorcycle drama Sons Of Anarchy. In 1984, Banning recorded and released Journey To The Light as a private pressing, and he did have an excerpted track from a different recording included on the aforementioned I Am The Center compilation. Journey To The Light wafts along Banning's guitar playing which alternates between chorus-laden, E-Bow guitar explorations that recall a lighter version of the Manuel Gottsching ethos and a painterly lyricism of brightly ringing chords similar to Maurice Deebank. The lush electronics that surround the guitars are accompanied by a celebratory strum across the zither. This is the real deal when it comes to the New Age, regardless of the rough context in which it was recorded. Lovely, contemplative, inner-mind music reissued by the impeccable imprint Students Of Decay.
Very first solo record from one Mr. J. Bannon, who most of you might know better as the frontman for the mighty Converge, as well as the head honcho of Deathwish Records. But don't let the whole Deathwish / Converge angle mislead you, Bannon also did time in a group called Supermachiner, a more abstract project exploring drones, and blissed out post rock and epic cinematic ambience, and while this 7" is a bit closer to Supermachiner than it is to Converge, it's actually very little like either.
A single track, beginning with a slow whispered shimmer, a simple throbbing distorted bass, very spare and spacious, pulsing amidst soft sonic swells, a creepy minor key melody, a soft dirge. Eventually the vocals come in, mirrored by plinking piano, underpinned by simple percussion, the vocals plaintive and melancholy, a mournful croon, the piano adding some instrumental gravitas, a slow slow slow build, only truly exploding near the very end, and even then it's not so much an explosion as a culmination, a sort of Godspeed like pinnacle, which quickly fades back into the record's opening shimmer. Very reminiscent of Low actually, a dark, dreamy, drifting, abstract slow core. A tempting teaser for the forth coming full length.
And most folks know that beyond playing in Converge, Bannon is also an amazing graphic designer, and that becomes plainly obvious when you see the over the top packaging. The records are pressed on various colors of vinyl, silver, gold, creme, it's a one sided 7", the flip side features a super intricate etching, a winged skull, flowers, and tiny text, all housed in a gorgeous screen printed card stock sleeve that folds together origami style. Each record also includes a download coupon so you can get these analog sounds on your digital player of choice.
Another weird one from The Tapeworm, a UK tape only label, who specialize in, well, it's hard to say what they specialize in. Past releases gave included tapes from Philip Jeck, Simon Fisher Turner, a recording of interviews with Derek Jarman, some amazing psych jazz from a group called the Van Patterson Quartet among other strange offerings. So considering all of those, this record from Baraclough, a London trio of abstract noisemakers, sounds right at home.
Described by the label as being made up of a "classically trained musician, a self taught musician and a non musician", the trio exist somewhere between abstract minimal drone music, and the sort of stumbling anti-folk of No Neck or Sunburned Hand, but doused in electronics and a healthy bit of Nurse With Wound style industrial noise. Simple delicate melodies and bursts of percussion, drift dreamily over a caustic sea of black buzz, roiling and crumbling in a cloud of blurred distortion, squalls of grinding electronic glitch throb and envelop hushed vocals, and splatters of minimal looped percussion, sometimes locking into an almost This Heat sounding mesmer, the sound slipping from rhythmic hypno-lurch to blown out crumbling murmur, to delicate shimmery smearscape.
Unlike much of what comes out on The Tapeworm, these guys are a going concern, with actual records on other labels, and after hearing this, odds are you're gonna want to track those down too.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES!
Finally! A brand new record from Israel's Barbara. A band we fell in love with before we even heard them. Why? Well, they're called Barbara to start with, they're from Israel, Barbara is written in olde English with the first 'b' extending into a crucifix, and they're a bass and drums duo. We were completely sold before we even discovered how amazing they sounded. But with all that going for them, if they didn't rule, we would have seriously lost faith in the universe.
The sound on Peger is not all that far removed from their 1999 debut A Blessing From The Angel Of Death, the biggest difference being that where the first disc was a live record, this is recorded in a studio, so it sounds heavier, noisier and more intense. A sloppy, ultra loose doomy prog jam of the highest order. It's like a confusional mix of Godheadsilo, Hella, Burmese, Lightning Bolt and the Ruins, but dipped in molten metal and rolled around in filthy gritty grimy dooooom. The guitars buzz and moan, chugging and grinding, weaving elaborate layered fuzzscapes and jagged melodies, a seriously sludgy downtuned blast of sonic chaos, feedback and amp buzz everywhere, shrieked vocals and blown out rumbles... but it's the drums holding it all together, a relentless ultra complex pound, drums splattered everywhere and cymbals crashing all over the place, like someone was firing a machine gun into a room stuffed with old drum kits. But this isn't just noise rock, the songs are weirdly catchy, underneath all the throb and pummel, thrash and grind, lurk some killer hooks and some super memorable riffs. And interspersed throughout the record are washed out extended drones, long stretches of buzzing fuzzed out guitar, and rumbling low end, punctuated by occasional bursts of aggro drum crush. Some super abstract ambient doom, that always seems to collapse back into another blast of stumbling low end punishment. So good!
An awesome live recording from these psych rock astral travelers, this lengthy two track performance recorded live in the living room of a house somewhere in Philadelphia finds the Pond at their driftiest and dreamiest. The opening track is a 34 minute psychbliss epic, guitars swirl and shimmer, drifting lazily across a gauzy sun dappled sonic sky, violins float by occasionally as do snatches of fluttering flute, the background dense with chimes and distant bells, muted melodies and slow undulating waves of guitar groan and ambient rumble, colored here and there by some scrape and hiss, as well as voices and sounds from the partygoers seated around the band. It's a sloooooow build and when it finally does reach it's peak, it's not a blow out as much as a heavy drone. Totally mesmerizing and tranceworthy! The second track, clocking in at a much more brief 12 minutes or so, is an even more mellow affair, simple drifting acoustic guitar, hand drums, flutes and ethereal female vocals, while in the background, thick billowing clouds of distorted psychedelic guitar pulse and swell, like some mysterious sonic Northern lights. So nice. Hard to imagine these sounds emanating from a house in some suburb, unless that house suddenly became unmoored and began drifting through alternate universes, or through some unexplored corner of the galaxy. So perfect!
LIMITED TO 600 COPIES!! Two different covers, each one super striking, no need to ask for a specific cover, they'll be pulled at random, and you'll be pleased as punch either way!
If we had to pick our favorite modern psych rock band, it might be tough. There are so many groups who have mastered the fine art of druggy soundscapes, tripped out space rock, and in-the-red avantpsych drone jams. But if push comes to shove, most of us would probably pick Bardo Pond.
Release after release, every single one of their records manages to push all our musical buttons, be it droney krautrockishness, damaged freaked out noise rock, trippy stoned drift, fluttering psych folk, heavy riffrock, or all of the above! These guys have mastered their craft, but remain unafraid to just wing it, jamming wildly, almost always resulting in something truly transcendent.
Batholith, while ostensibly an actual album, is in fact, a collection of some of Bardo's favorite songs that for whatever reason have never been released until now. Some live tracks, Peel sessions, and the opener "A Tune", that the band began their legendary Terrastock II set with, a laid back stoned groove, all warm washed out guitars and shuffling drums, until over the top, in swoop the Gibbons brothers, to tear it up, unfurling fiery sun baked leads over the top, wrapped around the vocals, a buried murmur, ghostly and gauzy, the whole track a glorious acid drenched, fuzzy buzzy drone-y jam.
In fact most of Batholith sounds like that, super hazy, lazy, drawn out, sprawling riffs, dreamy and definitely WAY druggy.
But that all changes about halfway through.
"Splint" begins as a post rocky meander, barely any guitars, just little trills and flourishes here and there, amidst a cloud of bass thrum and shuffling drums, which rev up about half way through into a dense churning wall of sound, crumbling and massive, before drifting back to the track's opening drift. "Slip Away" is total nineties shoegaze, somewhere between the Swirlies and Swervedriver, the vocals ethereal and dreamlike, the drums a driving pound, but guitars EVERYWHERE, thick and fuzzed out, layers upon layers, one guitar soaring above the rest, skywriting buzzing minor key melodies over the top, sometimes exploding into wahwah drenched squalls, other times just adding to the overall buzz.
The final track, the longest at 10 minutes, is all Eastern raga, with some steel string buzz that sounds a bit like a sitar, a loping sea sick main riff, a hypnotic pulse like drum beat, and again the guitars take over, snarling and growling and glowing, a super intense tangle of downtuned buzz, draped over the steady motorik jam beneath, until the band launch into space, and unload an incredibly fierce and furious space rock outro, the drums dense and complex, the bass thick and fuzzy, the guitars all wound up in a glorious psychdrone battle to the death.
Incredibly deluxe packaging. Heavy heavy gatefold. The record pressed on 180 gram vinyl. Included with the lp is a cd of the same music. LIMITED TO 1049 COPIES!!!
BUT! While they last, we have the even more limited first edition (only 533 copies!) which come with a second bonus cd, featuring one lengthy bonus track. First come, first served, once the bonus disc version is gone, you'll get the regular edition, which still comes with the cd of the album proper.
No one does stoned and blissed out deep-in-the-forest jams better than Bardo Pond. For over fifteen years now this Philly outfit have been kicking out some of the most gorgeous organic spaced out rock EVER. Bardo Pond have so many different sides to their sound, from more song based tracks, to full on psychedelia, to dirgey space rock, and of course there's the sprawling tripped out and totally dreamy epic jams.
Gazing At Shilla finds the Pond in the latter mode, which is just fine as we can't get enough of that sound, when the band somehow bring earth and sky together in gloriously cataclysmic ways, allowing us to get so totally and fantastically lost in their sound. Recorded between 2003-2006, each side is a single, fantastic, sprawling twenty minute instrumental. "Eight - Thousanders" finds the band soaring and floating and gliding with such ease and fluidity. While "Kali" gets a little buzzier and darker, gritty space-y sonics transmitted from another dimension. Imagine if Roy Montgomery and Sonic Youth joined forces, or those special moments when Kawabata Makoto and his Acid Mothers Temple set their trajectory for cosmic spheres unknown. Ultimately though, it sounds like Bardo Pond (albeit only one of their many sides), a band who continue to grow, evolve and rule!
This the first of a new four part Bardo Pond related series of limited edition vinyl only releases on Important, we also just got the others in, one each by Bardo side projects Alaeshir, Alumbrados, and Moon Phantoms - the latter a collaboration with Japan's Suishu No Fune!
Peri is a companion of sorts to the earlier Bardo Pond release Batholith, which itself was a compilation of rare and unreleased tracks. The wealth of material compiled for Batholith resulted in this, a second volume of rarities, culled from the last almost 15 years. It includes some old fan favorites, and we have to say this is the sort of Bardo Pond we love, so sludgey and murky and psychedelic and raw, the band seriously HEAVY, their psychedelia dark and drone-y and intense, the guitars thick and gnarled, the vocals ghostlike and buried in the mix, lots of fluttering flutes, thick squalls of wild guitar freakout, the drums a pounding thud. Just check out the opener "Karwan", a slithery sprawling sludgey groove, the guitars thick and cloudy, the drums more of a slow motion tribal pulse than a rhythm, the main riff loping and woozy and druggy, the vocals laid back and weary, the whole thing sounding like it's being broadcast through a haze of pot smoke.
"The Path" is short and more delicate, the vocals and flutes way up front, but fiery guitars buzz just below the surface, the vibe almost folky, which perfectly segues into "Libation" a way more laid back space jam, the drums skittery and spare, the guitars spidery and crystalline, the vocals again buried in the mix, and a wicked psych blowout outro.
"Chicken Gun" was a live staple from the nineties, and features a bad ass main riff, lots of wah wah, thick distorted guitars, cool chanteuse like vocals, strange atonal flute freakouts, and a sound that just gets heavier and heavier and more dense as the track progresses. Finally, the record closes with "Silver Pavillion", another classic Bardo oldie, tripped out and dreamy and druggy, more krautrocky than anything, the guitars unfurling soft shimmery buzz, but again with an explosive climax, wild intense drumming, and some intense tangled psych guitar dueling. Total space rock / drone rock / krautrock nirvana.
Weirdly, the vinyl is limited to 1640 copies, while the cd-only version is limited to a mere 350 copies, so those will most likely be gone before the lps. But heck, you might as well buy the lp, since not only does it ALSO come with a cd anyway, it comes in a gorgeous ultra heavy, super swank and super deluxe gatefold jacket!
This is not a Bardo Pond record proper (although this disc does include one lengthy Bardo Pond track), but instead is a cd collecting some Bardo Pond related outings by various members and offshoots of this Philly psych rock combo, released as a special limited edition to celebrate the recent Terrastock 6 festival held in April in Rhode Island. Sublimation features all new music from Bardo Pond and Bardo satellites 500mg, Dechemia and Takeda.
We can't get enough of fuzzy soft focus druggy spacescapes and Bardo Pond as always deliver just that with the epic 17 minute long "Dual States", a slow burn, blissed out meander, shuffling rhythms, and all sorts of tangled effects-drenched guitars, a warm wash of tripped out loveliness. 500mg, who you might remember from a super limited 12" we carried a while back, is Michael Gibbons on guitars and effects, and explores a much more abstract world of sound, here it's a thick wall of crumbling distorted guitars, fuzzy intercepted radio broadcasts that drifts and breaks apart into soft tendrils of dreamy sunbaked guitar sparkle and warm warbly low end, a washed out shimmery swirl of Sonny Sharrock, Kyuss and Funkadelic's "Maggot Brain". Dechemia is Isobel Sollenberger and John Gibbons and their 4 minute track is a brief gypsy raga, shuffling percussion, simple Eastern guitars, and droning Tony Conrad like violins (played impressively by Sollenberger who usually handles the flute in BP!). So lovely. Finally, a twenty minute track from BP guitarist Clint Takeda, a massive, lumbering, rumbling slow burn, thick distorted guitar, spread out in a thick layer of barely shifting, resonating shimmer, peppered with brief stretches of soft melodic whisper, but for the most part a thick flow of throb and crunch, rumble and keen, mumbled vocals and murky riffs surface, but are quickly dismantled, and stretched out to become more layers, in Takeda's tarpit symphony. Awesome.
Limited to 500 copies, most of which were sold at Terrastock, but we managed to get a bunch for the store, although it's unlikely we'll be able to get more.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Bark! is an electoacoustic improv trio from the UK featuring guitar, percussion and electronics. The players are really good at generating cool noises (not just plain old noise) with their instruments, and create an enjoyable interplay of these sounds, sometimes resembling a rhythmic, wild, alien conversation. This stuff reminds us a bit of Supersilent, or the Shaking Ray Levis,
Ancestral Star is the latest batch of brooding, epic, twang flecked darkness from this local duo (now trio with the seemingly permanent addition of a drummer), their first for Thrill Jockey, and easily their most fully realized record yet, and while we were expecting it to maybe be their heaviest, based on the last few releases and the duo's individual solo recordings, it seems the band have dialed back the crunch, opting more for moodiness and atmosphere. The group's development from hushed psychedelic droners to brooding epic soundscapers has been a gradual and natural one, which is most likely what accounts for the seamless melding of whispery psychedelic ambience and lumbering doom-ed country drift.
The record opens up with a wild squall of superdistorted guitar buzz and howling feedback, a slowly unfurling melody, the notes crumbling and blown out, it had us expecting some serious crush right off the bat, but instead, the thick peals of smoldering psychdrone give way to some smokey Morricone-ish drift, haunting and abstract, the drums giving the sound a definite slowcore vibe, vocals hovering way off in the distance, more about adding texture than delivering lyrics.
After a brief twangscape, another spare skeletal bit of haunting countrydoomdrift, the band launch into the 10+ minute title track, a gauzy bit of slow building dronemusic, lushly layered, gradually expanding like a timelapse film of a supernova, a slowly blossoming burst of white hot buzz, expanding in every direction, a massive cloud of roiling distorted sound, that begins to fade almost immediately eventually becoming another stretch of hushed haunting ambience.
The rest of the record is rich with short sonic vignettes, a brief bit of echo drenched Appalachia, a heavily reverbed stretch of lush droney piano, a gorgeous bit of desert-y drift, all brooding twang and sitar like buzz, even some wheezing harmonium and choral like chants, these short form soundscapes separating the record's other two lengthy soundscapes, the first "Flatlands" begins all singing strings, and droned out vocals, lots of layers, and incredible overtones, the sounds constantly shifting, so dark and dramatic rife with some sort of melodic inner glow that infuses the rest of the sounds, the drone eventually fading out, leaving a bit of distorted twang, to gradually unravel to song's end. and then there's the closer, the nearly 7 minute "Light From The Mesa" another sprawling bit of dark dronemusic, washed out and whirring, the band's murky twang buried beneath the muted drift, everything wreathed in an ethereal haze, the drone finally dissipating leaving more spidery western twang, this time with percussion that sound like the clink of spurs on the wooden floor of the saloon, until those spidery guitars blossom into thick warm waves of chordal hum, backed up by soaring falsetto vocals, a gorgeous dirge to lead Barn Owl out of the valley, the record winding down as they disappear into the distance.
Yet another gorgeous collection of darkly epic doomfolk dronedrift dreaminess.
The cd version comes in a 4 panel mini lp style gatefold sleeve, the lp comes in a full color gatefold jacket and includes a download coupon as well.
Not only have Barn Owl become one of our favorite musical projects right here in SF, but they are now serious contenders to the throne of best purveyors of deep hitting and soul satisfying drone anywhere in the world. While just about everything they've released up to this point has been way too limited and thus are now all sadly out of print, they finally have a release that while still limited will at least get to reach a lot more ears then anything they've put out so far. These are sounds that deserve to be heard by anyone with an appreciation for all things droney, stoney and drifty, done so totally right.
While drone-folk bands have become a somewhat common entity in the last couple years, it's actually rare when you hear one that you really feel true soul and spirited passion from. From Our Mouths A Perpetual Light finds Barn Owl striking a perfect balance between sparkling sonics and commanding doom. Imagine Sleep/OM running in the mud with sticks and stones and then meeting up with Windy & Carl, Bardo Pond and Tom Carter. The lp format suits the duo so well, as their songs are filled with deep and slowly swirling grooves. We just listened to one side over and over and over before we even moved on to the second side with which we then did the same. There is both patience and payoff in Barn Owl's sound. Music that makes you want to close your eyes because you know you are entranced by atrists that know so well what they are doing. While they pressed up way more lps than anything else they've released, it's all relative, meaning these LP's are not going to be around too long, in fact we weren't even able to get as many as we ordered. Highly recommended, but act fast!
Seems like only yesterday Barn Owl had a new record on Thrill Jockey, and in fact this, Lost In The Glare, is their third for TJ in about a year, coming hot on the heels of their Shadowland 12" which ranks up there as one of our favorites. Lost In The Glare doesn't radically reinvent their sound, just further stretches it out, and refines it, the opening track as fierce as anything we've heard from them, lush tangles of guitar, over swirling droned out shimmer, culminating in a wild squall of jagged psychedelic feedback. And that jagged psychedelia definitely seeps into the rest of the record, with the duo seeming to crank up their guitars for the first time in a while.
Past records have been all about the dusty deserty twang, the slow burn, the smoldering ambience, and while all of that is still present, the band seem supercharged. "Turiya" finds the duo stomping on the fuzz box and unfurling peals of thick distorted guitar that almost sounds like Neil Young at times, gorgeous streaks of melody suspended over an Earth like dirge, it's a potent combo and definitely has the band sounding aggressive and HEAVY. "Devotion 1" brings it all back down, letting slow smokey melodies drift over vast expanses of space, eventually joined by a thick insectoid buzz, the sound transformed into a blissed out celestial raga. The longest track here, is also the heaviest, "The Darkest Night Since 1683" opens with a crackly haze of amp buzz and slow build chordal thrum, before erupting into some seriously blown out, downtuned blackened doomdronedirge guitar, a slow motion riff, all tarpit ooze as it buzzes and crumbles, eventually leaving a stretch of hazy twangy, psychedelic shimmer.
The rest of the record takes Barn Owl's ever shifting sound and runs with it, exploring Appalachian raga folk, all steel string buzz and lush soaring psychedelic swirl, murky moody late night crawl, rife with streaks of whirling melodies driven by a muted pulse and some washed out twang, gauzy Sunroof!-like ur-drone, all upper register skree wreathed in lush swells of bassy hum, and finally a closer that finds the band revisiting their dusty twang, but again, giving it some extra crunch, the guitars super distorted, the drums a blown out pound, all woven into a swoonsome mournful desert doom creep.
Hot on the heels of their recent From Our Mouths A Perpetual Light lp, comes this super limited (only 120 copies) repress of a tour only cd-r, available again briefly on Jef from Tarentel's Root Strata label.
This SF duo (featuring new aQ employee Jon!) brew up dark swirling druggy drifts, the guitars languid, hovering and buzzing in wide open expanses of slow slithery ambience. Bands like this usually revel in loooooooong songs, but here, 5 of the 6 tracks are just over two minutes, the longest, the 6 minute opener is the most fully realized and song-like, guitars shimmering and wet with effects, the result is like some incorporeal 16rpm Spacemen 3, drumless, and with the propulsion-level set to near zero, leaving just weightless clouds of haunting metallic reverberation, steel stings vibrating in a gorgeously washed out blur. A track like this should take up all four sides of a double lp, druggy and deliriously dreamy, a soft fuzzy musical opium den.
The rest of the disc are brief little glimpses into some fuzzy alternate universe, where guitars glimmer like stars is a blueblack sky, long tones weep and moan like wind winding through desert canyons, melodies surface and fragment, sink into the murky abyss, rhythms coalesce out of creaks and thumps, voices materialize into ghostlike melodies, keening and mysterious, krautrock like grooves fall to pieces, bits of steel string Appalachia give way to barely there minimal guitar mumble, the shards and tendrils slowly grow into some languorous disembodied ghostly blue grass, a sea of soft slow motion twang, finishing off with a brief spate of sun dappled drone and warm melodious forestfolk drift, all smeared chimes and blurred tones.
Gorgeous stuff. But almost frustratingly brief, every one of these tracks would sound fantastic expanded to 10, 20, even 60 minutes, so for now, we'll just have to make do with these way too brief glimpses of the druggy dreamy sounds these guys are capable of...
LIMITED TO 120 COPIES! Packaged in a super striking metallic gold ink on black tri-fold sleeve!
A brand new musical missive from the psychedelic drone duo Barn Owl, an ep length follow up to their recent Ancestral Star album, which finds them expanding their sound even further, taking the dusky twang into realms more cinematic, with an opening track that is both haunting and ominous, allowing synths to play as big a role as the guitars, creating a sort of kosmische devotional music, unfurling a mesmerizing melodic motif, looped and hypnotic, while all around, deep swells rumble and whir, clouds of effects swirl and shimmer, it might just be one of our favorite Barn Owl jams yet, like the soundtrack to some obscure European art film, that synth melody also has a little bit of a Tim Burton vibe, playfully sinister? Regardless, the song broods and oozes like and inky black cloud, while that melody shine through like blinking lights on a stormy night. The label references Popol Vuh and Alice Coltrane, which we definitely hear, but all the usual suspects are present as well, Earth, SUNNO))), Morricone, but on the opening track, all of the influences, new and old, are transformed into something magical and new, a sound that by the end of its nearly eight minutes, has blossomed into something simultaneously thick and corrosive, but spiritual and transcendent.
The title track finds Barn Owl returning to more sonically familiar territory, a slowly unfurling landscape of spidery twang, of softly reverbed ambience, this time laced with subtle piano, not to mention some more distorted riffage, as the song progresses, more melodies surface, and become tangled in a slow swirl of minor key mesmer, while the final track, the 10+ minute "Infinite Reach" begins as a bit of sun dappled celestial drift, all hazy tones and disembodied melodies, before clouds pass over the sun, cloaking the sounds in shadow, everything becoming much more ominous, the previously ethereal drift, now infused with blurry buzz and jagged shards of high end skree, building to a pulsing soft focus squall of bleary blackened psychedelia, before slipping back into a slow, smoldering outro, all windswept and barren, droney and twangy.
As always, fantastic stuff, and well worth it for that opening track alone, a sound we hope Barn Owl will explore a bit more on future outings!
LIMITED TO 1500 COPIES. Includes a download coupon.
Barn Owl have become quite the talk of the psych/drone/folk scene in the last year and for very good reason. The duo have released some great limited edition cd-r's on Digitalis and on their own, and their intense and trance inducing live shows have reeled in many believers, including us! Tapping into ritual drone and spiritual psychedelia this two song cassette recorded at a festival in Echo Park a few months ago is further proof that this is one of the most promising bands roaming the underground at the moment. While there are no shortage of psych drone acts these days, there is something so concrete and real about the sounds Barn Owl conjure up. Kind of like if newer Earth was less spaghetti western and more engaged in exploring LaMonte Young's dreamhouse. There is a patience and subtlety in Barn Owl's music that is way beyond their young years. They use guitars, drums, banjo, harmonium and voice to travel upwards to some magical place filled with dust, dirt and delight. This one is super limited too, so it'll be gone in the blink of an eye.
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Barn Owl, the local duo of Jon Porras (aka Elm) and Evan Caminiti (aka Higuma), have always tread a similar path to later era Earth, a sort of blackened twang, Morricone by way of the Melvins, slow motion soundscapes as evocative and slow burning as they are epic and heavy, dark and delicate. With the addition of a drummer, Barn Owl move even closer to their sonic brethren creating a gorgeous songsuite of Western tinged, slow motion psychedelia, dark, dolorous, warm and haunting, heavily reverbed, a sort of dark skeletal doom, rife with warm chordal clusters, gauzy clouds of muted feedback, and epic expanses of effected guitars that sound almost choral.
The mood is both warm and inviting, haunting and tense, emotional and intense. The various bits of steel string guitar are draped over dense swells of roiling downtuned drone, everything wreathed in streaks of high end shimmer, all blurred into a burnished black guitar blur, washed out and hazy, yet surprisingly lush and heavy. The second half of the record gets a bit more Appalachian, with delicate finger picked guitars drifting over deep layered drones, stately melodies unfurling like the black tendrils of smoke from a recently extinguished candle, or the fuzzy fog of late afternoon, painted deep blues and reds by the fading daylight. The record builds to a soaring finale, that revisits that choral sound, and infuses it with an hypnotic ur-drone vibe, like some glorious hybrid of Sunroof! and Arvo Part. Hypnotic and transcendent.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. We got the super limited fancy maroon vinyl mailorder version too. And as you might imagine, these won't be around for long...
San Francisco's dronelords Barn Owl (featuring our very own Jon!) return with Transfiguration, an awe inspiring slab of expansive psychedelia that is both heavy and beautiful. Recorded live on tour in Vancouver in summer 2008, Transfiguration clocks in at a massive 21 minutes, giving the duo plenty of time to put together a sprawling slow burning expanse that manages to retain a high degree of focus while also flowing freely.
Beginning with high pitched, bell like drones and a slowly creeping guitar note, it is hard to tell whether the vibes are good or evil, and before long the piece begins to move forward cinematically. It's like things are ascending way up to the heavens, and as the bells create a hypnotic flow, massive guitar drones take over everything. The sound is truly mountainous, with bits of molten feedback punctuating the atmosphere, and just when you think everything is going to be taken over by total noise, you realize that even though the music appears to be alive and of its own will, things are kept very much in control by the band. Amazingly, there seems to be a sense of implied rhythm, not in the sense of a traditional pop song, but the rhythm of the drone, taking things into a more realized form of existence. The white hot squalls of heavily distorted bliss swirl about but never decay, instead its like they are alive and breathing... and then, the piece is separated into its second half, by a lone voice. The low chant creates its own sort of spacious cavern, and the surrounding silence creates its own tension as more chants enter the atmosphere while higher voices float ethereally at the top. Giant cyclones of droned voices rise and recede, creating their own unique style of movement. The way the voices merge creates a cool disorienting effect where you lose all sense of direction in a state of suspended consciousness. Awesome.
Limited to a scant 200 copies, Transfiguration comes beautifully packaged in a thick cardstock sleeve with a professionally printed cd-r and serves as a nice teaser to the duo's upcoming full length on Root Strata!
We recently got to see Barn Owl perform at the Thrill Jockey 15th anniversary celebration, alongside Wooden Shjips, Liturgy, Eternal Tapestry, Man Forever and Trans Am, and as always, they were amazing, performing in the shadows below a constantly shifting wall of visuals, dark swirling psychedelic visions, that seemed to mirror the sounds the group were conjuring from their instruments, guitars as always, but this time the guitars seemed to play second fiddle (sorry) to their banks of synths, and tables full of gear. As we've mentioned on recent records, the duo seem to have been consciously moving away from guitars, and toward a more predominantly synth based sound, being keenly aware, that they were running the risk of making the same record over and over again. Not that we'd complain, their dusky sort of twang flecked ambient creep was and is a beautiful listen, but the expanded sonic palette, and all those synths, gave the band a much more expansive sound, and instead of just treading the same ground, only with synths instead of guitars, Barn Owl actually set out to make something new and exciting, and not just the listener, but for themselves as well.
Back to that Thrill Jockey show, Barn Owl were unfurling thick swirling washed of sound, when all of a sudden, boom, a lumbering, thunderous beat rolled in, a cool pulsing murky drum machine rhythm that changed the tenor of their sound completely, and instead of drifting, they were sort of driving, the sound moving toward something a bit krautrockier, and a whole lot doomier. Sure they's played with drummers before, but this was something all together different. And on V, we get our first record glimpse of the duo's new sound, which they introduce gently, starting with the opener "Void Redux", which fills the sky with billows of chordal synth shimmer, laced with fragmented melodies, and slow shifting textures, while within, spaced out beats pulse and percolate, no specific rhythm, more adding texture, and a little motorik heft, those rhythms and rhythmic fragments drifting on the ethereal swells and ominous cinematic shimmer. A sort of blackened psychedelic new age space drift. Which is not a bad thing at all.
But fear not, the guitars have not been jettisoned completely, far from it. "The Long Shadow" sounds like Barn Owl of old, at least at first, but synths add some Arvo Part like chorales to the background, and underpin everything with deep chordal rumbles, even transforming into full on church organ at one point, the sound building gradually to a triumphant majestic coda, before devolving into a looped swirl of crumbling distortion and keening distant melodies.
Throughout the rest of the record, the band definitely flex their musical muscles, and seem to be referencing the old Barn Owl sound, rather then still embodying it, undulating tendrils of reverbed melody drift atop, thick, churning synth wash, the tracks occasionally exploding into full on psych noise chaos, but a measure chaos, that still reveals plenty of deft melodic and textural soundscaping, and when the rhythms do surface, it can sound like some sort of super space-y kosmische Muslimgauze, or like some abstract electronic shoegaze. After a brief bit of old Barn Owl guitar tangle fused to lush, prismatic new Barn Owl synth shimmer, somehow crating the perfect twang flecked synth doom dreaminess, the record finishes off with the sprawling minimal epic "The Opulent Decline", which begins as a barren landscape of synth squelch and dubbed out barely there rhythms, lots of echo and reverb, and lots and lots of space. Over the course of the song's 17+ minutes, the sound blossoms into huge billows of soft noise swirl, still driven by that slo-mo rhythmic pulse, the tempo is set to creep, the surrounding sounds following suit, oozing and melting, but then seemingly channeled heavenward, a gorgeous bit of kosmische kraut-gaze drone-doom bliss for sure.
While they last, both the cd and the lp versions include a bonus cd, called The Factory Session / Live At Berkeley Art Museum, which is an actual cd, NOT a cd-r and features 40 minutes of exclusive unreleased music, the first three tracks, experimental, raw, swirling synthscapes recorded right here in SF at the band's rehearsal space, and a final more guitar based track, huge billows of churning distorted echo drenched sound, taking full advantage of the cavernous space in which it was recorded, which of course was at the Berkeley Art Museum, back in 2010. We're one of the few places you can get it, and once these are gone, they're gone for good, and then we'll be shipping both cds and lps SANS the bonus disc. So act fast if you're after the bonus disc.
Barn Owl are Evan Caminiti and Jon Porras, a new duo following in the experimental folk tradition of Sir Richard Bishop, Tom Carter and Steffen Basho-Junghans, and more recently Wooden Wand & The Vanishing Voice and Headdress. Their music roams freely with no concrete destination in sight. The ten loosely constructed instrumental compositions that comprise their debut album are crafted from acoustic and electric guitars, bass guitar, banjo, harmonica, synthesizer, organ, and drums. A few slow strums across guitar strings give way to a cycles of short picked melodic phrases. Almost imperceptibly vaporous drones and murmured vocals creep in. A perfect new addition to the Digitalis label (which has featured releases by Tom Carter, Christina Carter, Seht, James Blackshaw, and Steven R. Smith).
Latest release from Bay Area doomfolkdrone duo Barn Owl (featuring our very own Jon Porras) who team up on this limited lp only release with long time fave Tom Carter of Charalambides who for now, seems to have shed his psych folks sound for something far more, well more on that in a second...
Up first, Barn Owl with three new tracks of bleak blackened dark ambience, invoking wide open spaces, moonlight glimmering on frosted fallow fields, of slow moving brackish water, and of ruined buildings and lonely dirt roads. It makes sense that these guys opened for Earth when they were here, as their sound carries the same spiritual weight. But where Earth employ twang and elements of Gospel, Barn Owl go somewhere much deeper, and more dangerous, a swirling slow motion world of blacks and greys, of blurred landscapes slipping by through smudged windows, shafts of sunlight, moving glacially across the bare wooden floor, causing the dust motes to drift in little flickering flurries. Once the band build momentum, they create long flowing streams of warm whirring buzz, held together by simple percussive pulses, buried rhythmic throbs, all the while the guitars arc above like solar flares.
Dark swells rise and fall, wreathed in halos of soft focus FX and smeared streaks of subtle distortion, slipping from hushed shimmery whisper, to groaning wheezing metallic buzz, drifting forever slowly around a warm glowing core, and continuously emitting an aura of mournful dark mystery.
Carter approaches his side from a whole different angle, his single 16 minute track takes a slow meandering chunk of dark downtuned blues and transforms it into a coruscating wall of blown out psych buzz, rumbling chug and crunch, wailing noiseguitar freakout, heavy and buzzy and chaotic, but still warm and layered and melodic, like a rural Keiji Haino raised on avant folk and old time blues. A gorgeous ever expanding chunk of blown out heaviness and warm, slowly crumbling deconstructed blues, culminating in a beautiful almost symphonic arrangement of high end skree and warbly buzz, before slipping into a long stretch of languorous unravelling guitar shimmer. So nice.
LIMITED TO 380 COPIES. Plain black jackets with a paste on front cover, printed insert, thick black inner sleeves. We got a bunch direct from the bands, and we might be able to get more from the label when we run out, but you never know. Better to grab one while you can...
Barn Owl are no stranger to the drone. In fact, this Bay Area duo's sound is all about the drone, a deep, brooding, moody, twangy Earth-ish cinematic devotional doomdriftDRONE that we can't get enough of. But on this recent collaboration, the band explore another side of the drone, one less dark, and one more in keeping with the traditions of modern minimal dronemusic, teaming up with The Infinite String Ensemble (consisting of a fellow named The Norman Conquest on acoustic guitar, vocals, and Moog; Theresa Wong on cello; and Ellen Fullman, on the long string instrument), Barn Owl ditching their smokey twang flecked shimmer, and instead laying down lush layers of complimentary long form drones and extended tones.
For those who are unfamiliar with Ellen Fullman, she created the 'Long Stringed Instrument', which is exactly what it sounds like, although the name does not and all prepare you for the power of actually seeing it and hearing it. Essentially, she stretches long strings across large resonant spaces, the strings sometimes 50 feet or longer, and the players proceed to scrape, and bow and vibrate the strings, creating incredible sounds. And how perfect for Barn Owl to join in and add their own drone two cents.
The result is pretty fantastic, but again, well removed from the Barn Owl most folks are used to. In fact it almost would have made more sense to bill this as an Infinite String Ensemble, with special guests Barn Owl. Either way, the players here create four loooooong tracks of shimmery sun dappled dronemusic, long streaks of metallic buzz, lush and layered, lots of shifting textures and subtle overtones, all wrapped in softly burnished reverb, space-y and kosmische and hypnotic and heady, like Taj Mahal Travelers jamming with Organum, the tracks slipping from hushed and minimal, glimmering and crystalline, to smoldering and softly cacophonous, from dreamy hazy drift, to ritualistic ur-drone. Gorgeous.
And obviously absolutely recommended for all the drone fanatics out there, which we're guessing is a whole lot of you.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Cover art by Root Strata's Jefre Cantu-Ledesma.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Most folks probably no Mick Barr as the guitarist for black metal outfit Krallice, but long before Krallice, Barr was making seriously difficult music in the duos Crom-Tech and Orthrelm, as well as making equally difficult music solo as Ocrilim and Octis, and how you feel about those other Barr projects will definitely affect how you feel about this new solo lp. We've seen it described in different places as "genius", and as "difficult" and as "totally unlistenable", and well, we're inclined to say all three might apply depending on how you feel about Barr and his shredding. Since that's essentially what this is, two side long solo guitar shreds. Guitar nerds will be in heaven, as will avant outsider music weirdos, Barr is sort of a genius, wild trills and insane lightning fast runs, tripped out chords and bizarre sounds, in its own way, it's kind of hypnotic, we find ourselves getting a little lost whenever we put it on. But for folks who are after songs, or specifically want METAL, or are expecting Krallice, well, you'll be very very disappointed. Actually, all the folks who bought that triple lp on Rock Is Hell, this might hit that same weirdo difficult guitar music spot. You have been warned, weak eared posers steer clear!
Comes in a heavy matte finish jacket with some super creepy artwork, and includes a super swank embossed poster featuring some of Barr's distinctive artwork.
Good grief. Nobody but nobody plays such INSANE guitar as our pal Mick Barr (Crom-Tech, Orthrelm, Octis, Ocrilm, etc.). Makes sense he's got a new album out on John Zorn's Tzadik label, we figure Zorn would have to appreciate Barr's idiosyncratic high-end, hyper-speed shred. Zorn's right, Barr belongs in Tzadik's "composer series", with his name on the cover alongside that of his "band" Octis (which is just him solo, sometimes accompanied by an exhausted drum machine). Barr's spasmodic seizures of precision six-string technicality end up constituting some sort of cryptically-constructed, convolutedly-complex avant-garde new music, with maddening minimalist repetition and maximal metallic tones, a swarming symphony of extreme earhole abuse that certain folks (like us) just LOVE subjecting themselves to, and maybe even trying to understand. Imagine Yngwie interpreting Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music album and you're at least part-way there.
It could be a madman ranting to himself in the shower as heard through a thin wall of a squalid East German apartment; or it could be a cryptic piece of mangled sound poetry in the transgressive vein of Otto Muehl or Henri Chopin. Given that Stapel. Efeu-Faehrten comes by way of Tochnit Aleph, it really could be either. This is the same label that is run by Schimpfluch's Raionbashi and has released work by Masonna, Runzelstirn & Gurglestock, and G*Park; but there's a plethora of semi-outsider sound art and aktionist based tape wrangling that stems from the European traditions of arte povera, musique concrete, and/or pharmaceutically tainted method acting; and then there was A r t u r Zm i j e w s k i 's S i n g i n g L e s s o n , which featured chorales sung by a deaf children's choir. Uncomfortably atonal and profoundly touching at the same time. Such is the way of things for Tochnit Aleph. This album is a compendium of recordings from the German artist Michael Barthel, who seems to be situated more toward the conceptual ends of the Tochnit Aleph spectrum, but then again he could very well just be fucking insane. The process seems to involve recording various utterances of Ursonate / Jaap Blonk styled sound poems of repetitive, nonsensical syllables as something of primal building block of language or perhaps it's simply absurdist stuttering. He whispers and quietly groans these poems into a shitty tape deck that captures all of the room noise; and then he plays these tapes back with the volume cranked so that all of the environmental ambience becomes a wash of grit and white noise with distant mumblings. Upon repeating this process multiple times, it's a similar process as Lucier's I Am Sitting In A Room, but the failing technology aggregates the noise and hiss instead of any kind of resonant frequency. In the midst of Barthel's softened, antiquated noise, his muffled sound poetry is interrupted / augmented by police sirens, radio static, and what sounds like it could be a really bummed out sheep. In other words, weirdo brilliance.
Want to get lost in hazy, shimmering sounds that would sound perfect in the pristine church of 4AD worship? Sounds pretty great right, well, the sounds of Julianna Barwick deliver just that. With her looped ethereal vocals she creates such hypnotizing sounds that really evoke a more tripped out Lisa Gerard (Dead Can Dance) or Elizabeth Fraser (Cocteau Twins), a sound that is totally perfect for the crisp and cold days we've been experiencing as of late, each track a gorgeous soundtrack for bundled up evening strolls when you can see your breath in the air. Barwick has been crafting her own multi-layered, hazy and hypnotic sounds for several years now, in fact her self released debut, Sanguine, from over three years ago was a big favorite here in town at our local radio station KUSF and we're happy to have gotten that in as well which we'll most likely be gushing about on a future list. In fact that record came out just shortly after Grouper's wonderful debut Way Their Crept and the two definitely share a swirling and surreal sonic spirit.
Julianna Barwick makes the kind of music that totally transports us into that sort of hazy spaced out daydream we wish would stretch out into infinity. Using just her voice and assorted manipulated loops, Barwick creates an hypnotic environment of sound that conjures up images of standing all alone in a huge cathedral, lit with washed out light filtered through ornate glass windows, reflecting off silver and gold sculptures. There is something so totally otherworldly and church-gone-cosmic to the sounds on Sanguine, like floating in a pristine sky, high on codeine as you swirl amongst fallen angels and mysterious creatures. Self released back in 2006, we are so happy to finally get this in the store as it really is one of the most mesmerizing and beautiful records to come out in the last several years. Because of the lack of its distribution the first time around, Sanguine didn't get the attention it deserved, which is too bad, because it most likely would have enjoyed the same sort of praise and popularity that groups like Grouper have so rightfully received, creating sounds from a similar template. And while the Grouper comparisons are inevitable, there really is something unique and singular about the way Barwick channels the most psychedelic and ethereal 4AD inspiration into a totally DIY hypnotic state of sound. Blissed out to perfection!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Another successful pairing of the older guard and the new wave, one of the latest in the RVNG label Frkwys series puts together experimental vocalist, Julianna Barwick (whose recent aQ instore was beautifully dreamy), and avant percussionist and seventies no wave music scene vet, Ikue Mori (DNA, John Zorn, Death Praxis). Recorded live during a residency at White Columns in New York last year, the two sides are the results of two different performance collaborations. The first side was made while Barwick and Mori were separated from each other in cubicles in the gallery, improvising together through aural suggestion. The second side was made with the artists working face to face. Both sides employ Mori's signature warbling crystalline electronics and sampled percussion triggers with Barwick's swelling gossamer and reverbed vocals in prolonged forays of electro-acoustic atmospherics and ambient abstraction, but each side has a different feel. The collaborative dynamics caused by closeness and distance move from a hushed majestic expansiveness to a more engrossed focused energy that demands your attention. Quite lovely!
Basalt Fingers may not be a name immediately recognizable to most folks, but the various members most definitely will be. Ben Chasny of Six Organs Of Admittance, Elisa from the Magik Markers and Brian from Mouthus and White Rock. A pretty serious psychedelic / noise pedigree, so hopes were pretty high, and damn if this isn't some seriously dense, smoldering, abstract psychdrone.
Two sidelong chunks, the first starts out all murky and lo-fi, guitars sounding more like bubbling lava, strange subterranean shapes, all tangled and smeared. Some of the guitars sound like synths warm and whirring, hard to tell what exactly is going on as everything is so muddy and washed out, but that just makes it all the more swoonsome and dreamy. It's like listening to some wild psych jam, but through thick concrete walls, with cotton in your ears. A gorgeous abstract underwater psych blowout.
The flip side is similar, except one of the guitars wails wildly over the murk, keening in huge glimmering streaks, while the other two guitars churn beneath it. It's almost like some classic Santana jam broadcast through a stereo dropped into a tar pit. Or Keiji Haino dubbed onto shittier and shittier tapes, and then played back on a boombox with dying batteries. Pretty fucking cool.
Limited to 845 copies. Pressed on super thick 180 gram vinyl. And the lp comes with a cd (not a cd-r, an actual cd) with the same music for listening and Ipod-ing ease!!! Packaged in gorgeous heavy silkscreened covers, designed by Alan Sherry of Siwa.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
A great new record by Junghans, a soon-to-be much more well known guitarist from the former East Berlin. Solo acoustic steel string guitar is his thing. "Inside" is a folk-trance album of exquisite beauty that has been compared to his evident hero Robbie Basho as well as to Loren Mazzacane Connors. Obviously, John Fahey would be another reference point, and Junghan's sometimes quite repetitive minimalism also puts us in mind of Rod Poole. The disc is divided into three "movements", starting in a simple, rhythmic manner (sounding very avant-garde & "Eastern" & Rod Poole-like) before morphing into some equally radical intricacies. There's no overdubs, but lots of variation. It's all very beautiful and hypnotic, never too difficult (to listen to, that is -- to play this stuff I'm sure is difficult). With colorful liner notes by Byron Coley.
