[ aquarius records — Experimental ]

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This is a compilation of the a-sides of most of Birchville's super limited lathe cut singles. From roaring blasts of distorted guitar, buzzing and squealing to gentle bowed Middle Eastern melodies to shimmering blissed out dronescapes to crackling clatter

RealAudio clip: Long Vanished Spirals

This is a collection of random recordings from 200-2002, but even as a collection of outtakes and leftovers, it functions quite nicely as a proper record, or even as an excellent introduction to the mighty (and mighty prolific) Birchville Cat Motel. This is that sublime NZ drone, with occasional bursts of dog whistle skree and cascading feedback. Lush and rich and dreamy. Fans of Sunrrof!, Total, Vibracathedral Orchestra and drone in general should really, if they haven't already, invest in a serious BCM collection!

RealAudio clip: These Darkening Orbits
RealAudio clip: Mighty Spine Catcher

There was a time when Campbell Kneale and his Birchville Cat Motel were all about the drone. Channelling classic minimalists and modern skree merchants, offering up drifting droning soundscapes, tranquil and freeeeee. But then something happened. Not sure if it was some sort of regression to his teenage years, or hanging with the wrong crowd, but suddenly Kneale started becoming mildly obsessed with metal. And the sound of BCM began to reflect that. The drones were still in place, but now they were constructed from screaming guitars and huge slabs of ultra distorted slow motion riffs. This new direction, which would later result in the formation of post-BCM outfit Black Boned Angel, first surfaced on the appropriately titled Screamformelongbeach which we originally referred to as BCM's quote unquote rock record, and whose cover art featured a Campbell-Kneale-as-rock-god-in-action blurred photo. Our Love Will Destroy The World is actually a reissue of Screamformelongbeach with almost a half hour of extra music from the same time period. Here's what we had to say about Screamformelongbeach when we first had it: While this is certainly BCM's most rock record to date, it's be no means -that- sort of rock record. A groovy seventies rock riff gets looped and repeated FOREVER, while Kneale sprays grinding skree, viscous fuzz and squealing feedback all over. Before a strange purposeful stadium rock drum beat emerges from the chaos, and the sonic deluge eventually abates, skipping and skittering into a spare and abstract rhythmscape. Very reminiscent of the most recent Skullflower, whose Sabbath-hypno-Hawkwind-mantra turned 'the riff' into psychotropic drone rock nirvana. The bonus tracks pretty much follow the same sort of course, some riff is blown out and buried in sheets of corrosive feedback and sludge guitars, drums are buried and nearly swallowed whole by the din. A beautifully pumelling guitar on fire to the face! Essential for fans of the last few Skullflower records, the last Vibracathedral Orchestra, as well as stuff like SUNNO))), Boris and the like, although BCM on this recording at least is less slow and low and more high and dry!

MPEG stream: Heavens Flaming Horse
MPEG stream: 55,000 Flowers For The Hero

This purports to be BCM's 'rock record', hence the title and the Campbell-Kneale-as-rock-god-in-action blurred cover photo. And while this is certainly BCM's most rock record to date, it's be no means -that- sort of rock record. A groovy seventies rock riff gets looped and repeated FOREVER, while Kneale sprays grinding skree, viscous fuzz and squealing feedback all over. Before a strange purposeful stadium rock drum beat emerges from the chaos, and the sonic deluge eventually abates, skipping and skittering into a spare and abstract rhythmscape. Very reminiscent of the most recent Skullflower, whose Sabbath-hypno-Hawkwind-mantra turned 'the riff' into psychotropic drone rock nirvana.

MPEG stream: 55,000 Flowers For The Hero

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

SORRY. The first Curved Earth Destroyer collected a handful of live Birchville performances, from all over the world, spanning enough years, that we were able to hear the gradual development of BCM, from more ethereal tripped out ambient drones, to something much more aggressive and almost metallic. This second installment doesn't offer the same development, or such a wide breadth of sound. It's simply a collection of various stellar performances, culled from the last three years. Seven long sets, spread out over three discs, recorded all over, New Zealand, France, Australia, Hong Kong and a couple from the USA, some of the song titles sound familiar enough that they seem like variations of songs from other discs ("Dead Call Home Their Birds" instead of the other way around, "Gunpowder Church Of Satan", etc.) but it hardly matters, the sound of BCM is so gorgeous, so epic and organic, whether it's a glistening sheet of high end shimmer, or a corrosive slab of crumbling blistering crunch, the sounds are deftly stretched into expansive sonic vistas, some sun dappled and dreamy, others blackened and harrowing. Disc 3 (no need to go in numerical order right?) features the above mentioned tracks, recorded in France and NZ, and finds BCM, aka Campbell Kneale, doing the epic Ur-drone, long tones held forever, layered and layered, both tracks washed out and shimmery, the second, almost orchestral, both completely mesmerizing, like an even more epic Sunroof! Disc 2 begins with the 29 minute "Junkshop Rainbow Superserpent", a live collaboration with 1/3 Octave Band, the first half of the track, much more folky and abstract than usual, before building to a super dramatic crescendo of bowed metals and feeding back guitars, before unwinding into a field of bell like tones, and swooping backwards FX. Tripped out and haunting. The other two tracks, recorded in Hong Kong and NZ respectively, feature still more static ambience, the first like a cd-r minimal drone version of Arvo Part, glimmering, glistening, shimmering stretches of slow drifting sounds, soft overtones, gentle buried barely-there melodies, the second, much more lo-fi, lots of static and buzz and hiss and fuzz, but beneath it all lurk little warbly melodies, wheezing layers of whir and whisper, and a deep droning rumble. Disc 1 is all USA, recorded in Rochester and Chicago, the Rochester track is nearly 25 minutes of slow building ambient clatter, blurred and smeared into long tones, a warm whirring drone over the top, all tangled up with low end melodies that creep in gradually, the percussive clatter transforming into a cloud of tinkling chimes wreathed by the increasingly corrosive buzz. The Chicago track is another wall of static buzz, this one spends its first half murky and muted, before blossoming into a flurry of whirling buzz and more distant tinkling chimes, before finally fading out into a super minimal lo-fi drift. Packaged in that instantly recognizable CPSIP wallpaper style sleeve, with three inserts containing minimal liner notes for each disc, and of course SUPER LIMITED! We did get a bunch of these, but as always, these very well might be the last copies we can get, so grab one while you can...

MPEG stream: Dead Call Home Their Birds Live
MPEG stream: Gunpowder Church Of Satan

This is a super limited tour-only release for Birchville's recent Japanese tour. One hour long track. There's something about a piece of improvised music, when everything just clicks and the result is transcendent, spectacular, and becomes almost a living

RealAudio clip: September

With most bands who possess the kind of extensive catalog that Birchville Cat Motel does (41 different titles on the aQ site so far, this making it 42), after a while, it's hard to know what to say. It's tempting to just say something like "you love this band already, if you like the other records, you'll like this one too, so just buy it", and that would probably work on a bunch of folks, it sure would on us, but the thing about BCM, is the sound changes enough to make every new record exciting and new, familiar enough to appeal to fans, but definitely interesting enough to convince most of us that we actually do need another BCM disc to add to the 30 or 40 we already have. This one is no different. Right out of the gate, BCM main man, and axe wielder Campbell Kneale, offers up something we haven't heard from him in a while, a fierce roiling cloud of blown out psych guitar. Thick sheets of keening feedback, dense swirls of high end shimmer like Haino plays Sunroof!, dense squalls are pulled out into long ropy streaks of blinding white hot buzz and skree, as the track progresses, the rough edges and jagged corners seem to get worn away, the sound becoming more washed out, but still just on the edge of full on ear drum damage. That's sort of the magic in music like this, figuring out a way to harness noise, and twist it into pleasing shapes, which Kneale is quite adept at. By the end of the track, the low end has caught up to the high, and the track blisses out nicely. But that track definitely sets the stage for the rest of Seventh Ruined Hex, a record that is all about HIGH END. It's much easier to wrangle low tones into something dense and beautiful and drone-y and listenable, but the upper registers are inherently a lot more brutal and punishing and difficult to work with. But Kneale, as always, is up to the challenge. That opening, extended high end ur-drone is followed up by some awesome sonic weirdness, a brief respite from the skree, a strange stuttering rumbling soft cacophony of looped guitars, damaged FX, some thick metallic crunch, all warped an warbly, with a haunting pretty little melody underneath. Definitely another one of those tracks (every BCM record has one) that you can totally imagine being an hour long and it's own full length. The next track brings us right back to the static drone, and those upper registers, a simple chiming bit of percussion, underscores a crystalline high end smear, various notes and tones, woven into a glistening web of slowly shifting notes and overtones, a glancing listen, and it sounds like some difficult listening, but let your ears adjust to this high end soundworld, and suddenly the track blossoms and reveals its sonic treasures, filling your ears with a cascade of blinding glimmering streaks and warm glowing barely-there melodies. The title track brings things back into the midrange, at least briefly, a growling, rough edged loop, guitar it sounds like, grinding out a muted pulse, some dark shimmer, some fuzzy blur, but still shot through with slivers of that high end skree, building again to swirling slow motion supernova of sound, emitting thick pulses of smoldering opalescence. Finally, the record closes with the 17 minute "Bee", which begins all ultra lo-fi doom jam, moaning downtuned guitars and crumbling production, before transforming into a thick gossamer haze of gorgeous lullaby like whirs and shimmer, the high end kept in check, the whole track a slow build, very epic and cinematic, the various stretched out notes and chords churning beneath a layer of warm gentle buzz, midtrack, the sounds threaten to loose themselves and soar skyward, but are quickly reeled back in, the rest of the track a long slow fade, the high end sinking deeper and deeper beneath a warm blanket of instrument hum and blurred melody.

MPEG stream: Ghastly Star
MPEG stream: Werewolf Shorn Of Its Hell

This is an expanded line-up (expanded from the usual one man Birchville Cat Motel) performing all acoustic recorded between 1999-2000. Sparse and clattery, with lots of random percussion, woodwinds and bowed metal drones. A clinking clanking, rattling

RealAudio clip: Shapeshifter 1
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ATTENTION BIRCHVILLE CAT MOTEL OBSESSIVES!!! The newest release on the Grey Daturas' Diagnosis...Don't label is a sweet lil' slab of feedback folly from NZ noisenik Birchville Cat Motel recorded live on a fire escape in Wellington New Zealand. This here brand new 14 minute long 3" cd-r ep is BCM at his most fiery and white hot. Thick guitar drone mushed through a battery powered walkman speaker giving it that special grinding crunch sound you just sort of want to strip naked and luxuriate in. But as it's Mr. Kneale, he's able to work some of that magical alchemical musical voodoo of his, and make this shrill shrieking grinding coruscating beast sound downright pretty and soothing. Feedback becomes glistening melodies rendered in glorious dreamy high end. Not sure if it's organ or guitar, but it's all upper register skree, and it's all goddamn beautiful. Packaged in thick textured paper grey mini 3" sleeves, with a printed (band name, label info, liner notes) Japanese style obi. Nice. And as always, this is SUPER LIMITED, and odds are we won't be able to get more. We did get a whole bunch, but don't let that keep you from ordering it now or you'll be kicking yourself when these are gone...

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Our hyper prolific buddy Campbell Kneale returns with another piece in the puzzle that is Birchville Cat Motel. Three extended tracks, over 50 minutes! The first track displays the harsher side of our normally mild mannered noisenik, with warm white noise that slowly gets its jagged edges smoothed off until the raw spiky skree becomes a warm muted roar. Track two finds us in much more familiar territory. 30 minutes of what sounds like bells and chimes, that are stretched into a warm wash of overtones and reverberations, with occasional clatter and buzz bobbing to the surface. Gorgeously meditative. Track three sounds like an indie rock band caught in Kneale's sticky web, trying desperately to pick out notes on their guitars, struggling against the thick, unyielding pull of oblivion. Shimmering feedback and rumbling drones occasionally let a stray note or chord make it to the surface, but those are quickly swallowed up by the murky morass.

MPEG stream: Sleep June Slope

An ultra-uber-super-mega limited 7" from all time AQ noisemakers Birchville Cat Motel, released on Anthem Records, the same folks who brought us the killer Brainbombs 7" Stinking Memory a while back. The packaging this time around is no frills, a plain sleeve, hand stamped, the record numbered in gold ink (limited to 212 copies) and it's only one song, a one sided 7", but it's unlike any BCM recording we've heard yet. It kills us that it's only a 7"... It begins with a strange collection of vocalizations, duck calls, metallic shimmers, distant moans, alien rhythms, and what sounds like monkeys or maybe crickets, a dense tangle of sounds that swirl and intertwine before giving way to a propulsive metallic groove, a chugging guitar, plodding drums, but all beneath a mighty chorus of croaking frogs (hence the title?)! It sounds a bit like the main riff from Judas Priest's "You Got Another Thing Coming" looped over and over. And throw in the frogs and suddenly you've got some crazy mix of Circle's Andexelt and Sounds Of North American Frogs, and that is a very good thing indeed.� LIMITED TO 212 COPIES!!!

More minimal dreaminess from Campbell Kneale and his one man drone machine Birchville Cat Motel. 'Vespertine' is one 40 minute barely fluctuating drone constructed from guitars tapes, radios, synthesizers and vacuum cleaners! This is some gorgeous deep listening: layers and layers of fuzz and hum transport the listener to another plane. Otherworldly and transcendental supreme drone. Perfect.

RealAudio clip: Vespertine

Outside of the Dead C, Birchville Cat Motel are one of the few original New Zealand noise musicians still making relevant noise. And like the Dead C, their sound has continued to evolve and grow well beyond the confines of 'noise music'. On 'We Count These

RealAudio clip: Shapeshifter
RealAudio clip: Another Miners Light
RealAudio clip: Slow Vehicle Bay

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

SORRY. This has to be the biggest cast of underground noiseniks ever assembled. In fact, pretty much every past and present AQ favortie is represented in this extended BCM lineup. Let's see. Bruce Russell of the Dead C, Antony Milton, Rosy Parlane, Peter Wright, Ralf Wehowsky, Neil Campbell of Vibracathedral Orchestra, Stefan Neville, Reynols, John Weise, rhBand, Simon Wickham-Smith, Jonathan Coleclough, Glenn Donaldson of Jewelled Antler (Blithe Sons, Skygreen Leopards, Thuja etc.), Lovely Midget, Tetuzi Akiyama, Peter Stapleton, Jan Anderzen (Avarus, Kemialliset, etc.), Bill Wood, Richard Francis, Ben Spiers, Rob Hayler (who runs the amazing Fencing Flatworm label), Kuwayama Kiyoharu, Kohei Nakagawa (aka Guilty Connector), and all Stephen Clover contribute junk, field recordings, baby monitors, percussion, radio, microphones, synth, electronics, broken amplifier, metal, feedback, bowed guitar, pulse and drone, boiling water, tones, harmonium, singing, shibaki electronics, diseased cd-r's, reynols (guess who?), loops, tapes, violin, piano, accordion and loads more. Phew. You think with that many cords plugged into the ol' 4-track, With Maples Ablaze would be a serious mess, but surprisingly, whether due to the contributions themselves or Campbell Kneale's deft handling of all the bits and pieces, this is a gorgeously expansive and surprisingly cohesive bit of ambient clattery drone. Most of us thought that Birchville's recent double cd Beautiful Speck Triumph was perhaps as good as it could get (in fact even Kneale mentioned something to that effect recently) but the more we listen to this one, the more it holds up as one of BCM's best. Twittering birds over far away organs while cellos creak and groan, muted underwater melodies drift lazily through a syrupy sonic haze while high end overtones ping and shimmer. Someone shoveling imaginary snow on hot concrete in a cloud of shimmer and buzz while baby mewls are morphed into twisting, sweetly inhuman melodies. Probably THE moment on this record is the epic sixth track, a stuttery drone constructed from an endless snare roll, tinkling chimes, and processed baby cries. Completely mesmerising and surprisingly 'rocking'.

MPEG stream: With Maples Ablaze 2
MPEG stream: With Maples Ablaze 8
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The latest in Campbell Kneale's campaign to rule the world via an endless stream of releases, ALL OF THEM GREAT! This time it's a 30 minute piece recorded live in a Japanese temple, using contact mics, effects, dictaphone feedback, tapes, computer speakers and a PA. And this is austere and beautiful, we're talking Bernard Gunter territory here. Okay, maybe not that austere. A gorgeous hissy fuzzy soundscape of trickling water, gentle rainfall, and far away fog horns, that slowly bulids in intensity, while managing to remain murky and tranquil. Deep resonant drones slowly surface as do occasional clatters and clangs, and wheezing high end in the distance. Totally hypnotic and otherworldly. But we've come to expect nothing less.

RealAudio clip: Zenkoji

It's a bit hard to believe that Campbell Kneale's Birchville Cat Motel has been around for almost a decade, although when you take a look at just how many releases the man has produced over the last nine and a half years, it becomes a little bit easier. This here self titled cd (yeah, it's a cd, just packaged in a weird 7" style sleeve) is the very first Birchville recording from way back in 1997. So, what's it doing on the AQ list circa 2006 you ask? Well, it hasn't been re-pressed, nope this is still stone cold out of print, but Mr. Kneale just happened to be doing a little house cleaning when he discovered a long forgotten stash of these gems and offered them to us. We took all of 'em. which only amounted to 20 or 25 so there will be gone for good in no time, so act fast. We're not really sure what Kneale did before BCM, but this caustic blast of NZ noise announced loud and clear that it didn't matter one bit. Kneale has taken BCM sonically from one end of the spectrum to the other, soft shimmery ambience, massive metallic drones, blissed out free rock weirdness, but when he was just starting out, Birchville was a seriously mean machine. Hard and harsh and not a little bit scary! There are hints of the deft crafter of droney sonic worlds that Kneale would become, but here, Kneale is a warrior of noise, head down, hunkered behind his laptop ready to do battle, bathed in a halo of white hot fury, exploring a world of caustic industrial grind, walls of shrieking feedback and thick swells of buzz and hiss, bells and clattery percussion, simple melodies and subtle sonic sparkles are all drenched in a viscous shower of coruscating crunch. There are bits of tranquility here and there, but they are fraught with peril, like there is always some noisy beast just out of earshot ready to pounce. A gorgeously chaotic caterwaul! Packaged in an oversized 7" sleeve with a little cd pocket. And again, this is already OUT OF PRINT, has been for years. These last 20 or so copies are the last ever!

MPEG stream: Cast Iron Tether
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Another entry from the neverending barrage of gritty drones from Campbell Kneal's Celebrate Psi Phenomenon cd-r imprint, "Serene Trajectories" finds Campbell in his Birchville Cat Motel persona collaborating with fellow New Zealand sound sculptor Richard Francis (aka Eso Steel). Ostensibly, both work with "the drone", although they approach the medium in two entirely different means. Campbell prefers electric miasmas from guitar amplifiers and broken electronics, often drawing comparisons to Dead C and Sunroof; where Francis works with much cleaner techniques, digitally sculpting field recordings into textually rich dronescapes. As can be expected, this album falls directly in between those two ends of the fidelity spectrum, as flurries of indeterminant buzzings amass into thick snowstorms of raw sound while dramatic clatterings and striations burst through the stereofield with remarkable clarity and precision. Yup, another winner from Celebrate Psi Phenomenon.

RealAudio clip: Serene Trajectories

We discovered this just a little too late. The first in a series of cool compilations, all insanely limited, dvd-r's with interviews and live performances, super fancy homemade packaging. But sadly out of print, a bummer considering how perfect this one seems for aQ. C'mon! Birchville Cat Motel, Tarentel and Charalambides! Limited to only TWENTY FIVE copies. Arghh. Well somehow we convinced the label to do another pressing just for aQ, so here it is, a killer triple 3" dvd-r set, gorgeously packaged, with three long time aQ faves. Up first is Charalambides, recorded live in Hasselt 2006, several songs, lovely as always, dark and funereal, ethereal, gorgeously shot, super close ups of the guitar, lips against a microphone, lit in reds and blues and purples, a dark stage, nothing but the two players... Really nice, intercut with simple abstract animations and interviews with the band. The second disc is Birchville Cat Motel, recorded live in Gent 2006, and features Campbell Kneale, aka Mr. BCM, lurking on a hellish looking stage, all red lights and dry ice fog, just Kneale's figure hunched over his instruments, mic stands like demon's claws reaching up through the mist, a huge pair of painted eyes behind him on the wall. Kneale sort of swaying back and forth in a total trance, wearing a black mask, singing and twiddling knobs, in a surprisingly tiny space, playing to about 20 people, the sound appropriately massive and thick, even mixing in a loop of Metallica (!), electronic bagpipes, and a Buddha Machine. Awesome. Also includes an interview with Kneale, talking about how nobody in NZ knows who he is, and about his very normal, run of the mill life, he's a school teacher, recording as a solitary process, and other cool stuff. Finally, the third disc features Tarentel live in Geneva and Bern 2006, interviews with the whole band, talking about the development of their sound and creating new sounds, their approach to music making, improvisation, etc. The live stuff features beautiful films drifting behind the band, who are all cloaked in shadow, the sound dark and abstract, low shimmers and abstract drones, thick and textural, fluttering horns and whirring guitars woven into thick rough expanses of muted growl and soft focused creep, laced with tripped out dubby drums. The video includes shots of the club, the bands wandering around, exterior shots, all woven into the super striking live footage. Second pressing just for the aQ faithful, LIMITED TO 30 COPIES!!! The packaging is fantastic, every single one slightly different, sizes, shapes, each one a folded up map, the mini dvd-r's affixed to little nubs on the map, liner notes and little photos affixed to other panels of the map, all folded up in a plastic pouch.

We're sort of surprised this match up hadn't already happened before. Pretty much a no brainer. Campbell Kneale, aka Birchville Cat Motel, and Anla Courtis, from the now defunct Reynols. While it most definitely seems like a match made in noise rock heaven, there was definitely the potential for a very chaotic mess, but the two most definitely brought out the best in each other, and the result might just be one of our favorite releases from either of these guys. Three looooong tracks, each a gorgeous and languorous slow build, minimal, but dense and heavily layered, simple propulsive rhythms, and all sorts of warm rich sonic textures. The opener, is maybe one of the most beautiful 'noise rock' tracks EVER. Swirling, beautiful cello-like melodies, low and lumbering, moan and croon, a deep, resonant, cavernous, creeping minor key dirge, lurking mysteriously beneath a swirling cloud of metallic cicadas and oscillating whirs and flutters. One of those tracks that should go on forever. Building gradually in intensity, but never exploding into full on heaviness, instead just drifting dreamlike, until the various sounds peel back leaving just a gorgeous soundscape of simulated nature sounds and abstract ambience. The first time we threw this on we ended up listening to this track 3 or 4 times in a row. But as soon as we could tear ourselves away, we realized that the other two tracks were darn near just as beautiful. The second track is a spacious and spare expanse of tinkling music box chimes, strange percussive thumps, guttural vocalizations, and a warm melodic whir, heavily panned, swooping dramatically from speaker to speaker. Those swoops eventually transforming into thick slabs of guitar whir, a gorgeously glacial epic, rife with muted melodies, and dense with sonic subtleties... The closer pretty much seals the deal. Simple tribal drums, clattery junkyard percussion, over warbly warped FX drenched guitars and a loping dirge-like rhythm building in intensity until the guitars become a huge tangly squall above that static mesmerizing rhythm. It's almost like a noise rock Tom Waits.... like the Black Rider performed by Sunroof! Or a super blissed out take on old Swans. Guitars so thick and warm you just want to curl up and climb under, letting that clattery motorik rhythm just carry you away...

MPEG stream: First Sparkling Echo
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Now this is a bit of an odd combination, AQ faves Birchville Cat Motel, aka Campbell Kneale going one on one with none other than Mr. Lee Ranaldo, he of indie noiseniks Sonic Youth. How did it come about? Why did it come about? Who knows, and who really cares as the results speak for themselves. These two fellas, with some kind of 'noise' as their common thread, managed to conjure up some gorgeous dronescapes, that eventually ramp up to some serious NOISE, before drifting back into dreamy shimmery bliss. A single hour long track recorded live in New York at the Tonic in December of 2004 on BCM's last trip to the US, this is a slow building drone, equal parts chord organ, guitars, maybe even bagpipes (at least that's what it sounds like) all sort of swirling and reverberating, with distant tinkling chimes and simple stretched out melodies. About halfway through, Ranaldo kicks it up a notch and lets the distortion rip, a huge wall of white hot guitar, kept in line by a simple and very spare single snare-hit beat, a sort of free noise doom, with little bits of backwards electronic rhythm, and keening lawnmower like guitar melodies. The last fifteen minutes is a sweetly languid wind down, distortion disengaging, rhythms drifting into the ether, melodies dissipating like clouds after a storm, all as the chatter of the crowd slowly encroaches on the barely there sounds that moments later are not there at all.

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

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!

After six releases as Monument Of Urns, whose blackened doom has long been a favorite with aQ metalheads, the mysterious man behind Urns returns with a new project, Bird Of Omen, meticulously packaged like the Urns releases in gorgeous hand screened printed vellum oversized sleeves, which led us to believe that Bird Of Omen would be a sonic continuation of the black dirgery of Urns, when in fact, BoO is something else entirely. In fact before we get into it, we'd say that ANYone into Barn Owl, Earth and that sort of Morricone influenced dronefolk desert twang, should definitely check out Bird Of Omen, cuz that's definitely what BoO is all about. Some of the blackness and doominess of Urns is definitely present, but it's much more subtle, more in the ambience, and the vibe, cuz the vibe is definitely brooding and haunting, whipping winds, howling wolves, all over a distant drone, a rumbling low end, and subtly spacey shimmer, over which a guitar unfurls twangy tendrils of minor key guitar, the sound slightly distorted and blown out, so the low notes go into the red, and add a bit of distortion, the background low end droning ominously, and drifting in and our like some mysterious black sonic swell. And in fact, the more we listen to this, the more we can imagine how easy it would be to transform this into a Monument Of Urns record, and which also made us realize that minus the distortion, Bird Of Omen is not that far removed from Urns, the same sort of dismal miserablism, the same sort of brooding trudge, a lumbering slo-mo slither, but where Urns doused that in distorted guitars, here, those sounds are spare and unadorned, maybe wrapped in a bit of echo and delay, and in some weird way, the sound manages to be just as doomy. And the closing track, which might be our favorite, sounds a bit like Barn Owl mixed with Skepticism. The twang dialed way back, letting the murky low end drive the song, a grim black creep, surrounded by field recordings, voices, the sound of rain, and a final coda that hints at the doom that lurks in the background as the sound swells into a squall of detuned buzz and swirling feedback, before finally fading out, truly haunting and harrowing. So great! As mentioned above, gorgeous packaging, a printed vellum outer sleeve over a screen printed inner sleeve, the 3"cd-r affixed to the inside.

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A copy of this just showed up in the mail one day, all the way from Australia, a long time ago, but then somehow disappeared, lost we can only assume, amidst all of the stuff that is continually piling up here at aQ. Eventually, after some back and forth with the band we managed to secure another copy, and WOW are we glad we did. We were expecting something heavy and dark, not sure if it's the name that maybe had us confusing them with the Bird Blobs (bad ass Aussie garage punks) or the fact that they were pals with the Grey Daturas, either way, this is anything but dark and heavy, instead, Bird Traps traffic in something much more ethereal and ephemeral, slow shimmering soundscapes, cinematic and warm, lush and emotional, long slowly unfurling melancholic melodies, sun dappled and soft focus, dreamlike abstract chamber music of sorts reminding us of William Basinski, the Caretaker, Rachel's, Klimek, Max Richter, Tim Hecker, Belong, but unlike many of those sound sculptors, the music of Bird Traps is not distorted, or decayed, not warped or blown out, but IS hushed and delicate, mysterious and gauzy, a softly spun series of mini epics, long tones stretched out over hazy expanses of minimal whir, of blurred minimal melody, the songs developing gradually, soft swells giving way to gentle washes of crystalline sound, completely mesmerizing, able to envelop the listener in a velvet cocoon of sonic tranquility, but infused with just enough pathos and emotion, to make the sounds compelling, evocative, intimate and intense. A soundtrack to a slowly shifting, nearly static sepia toned film of the sky melting into the horizon, the stars fading into the cloak of night, this world slipping into the next...

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SORRY. Somewhere between the tape decay experiments of William Basinski, the faded memory soundtracks of Leyland Kirby's Caretaker, and the sprawling sonic shadowscapes of Stars Of The Lid, lies Bird Traps, aka Marcus Skinner. His guitars, organs and field recordings are fleshed out by a proper string section, and the results are sublime, with the strings front and center, Skinner composing and adding coloration, subtle sonic backdrops to the aching, mournful string arrangements, the whole thing managing to evoke much of the same mood and mystery as those above mentioned artists, but without distortion or decay. On the surface, the sound of Bird Traps is like some string quartet, frozen mid performance, and suspended in amber, the sounds slowed down to a crawl, and unfurling like the score to some heartbreaking time lapse film, a melancholic threnody, simple and stirring. The first two tracks are truly majestic, it's not hard to imagine the sound here as the score to some visual survey of sweeping plains, massive canyons, snowy peaks, but it's only on the second track that the machinations behind the scenes slowly drift to the fore, a little bit of looped whir here, of subtly static shimmer there, all the while, the strings continue to soar, the arrangement spread out into delicate chordal swells, heady and hypnotic, and with a depth not easily perceived with a glancing listen. In fact, Bird Traps seem to function in two distinct manners, perhaps not intentionally, one, simply as gorgeous, cinematic string based loveliness, the other, some serious deep listening, with headphones. Tracks like "Minor Tapestry" begin to sound more like Phill Niblock, with constantly shifting overtones, layered drones, all deftly woven into the otherwise placed stringscapes. Not surprisingly, "Loose Knit" might be our favorite track here, it's the one where the strings take on a bit more of a supporting role, the dynamics as such, that they ebb and flow, leaving wide open space for choral like organs, and for the sibilant murmur of random field recordings, all adding grit and texture to the tracks haunting, drone out drift, before returning to something a bit less shadowy for the closer, which again, finds the sound slipping into something approaching a more modern minimalism / drone arrangement, but those strings, they keep the sound alive and seemingly expanding ever outward, a sonic time lapse blossoming, sun dappled and dreamlike, mesmerizing and impossibly, and mysteriously beautiful.

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Murky underwater jams from deep space, Birds You Once Knew is one of two Von Himmel related releases on this list (the other being Black Thread), and will not only appeal to fans of that band, but probably those of you digging the current crop of synth lords like Umberto, Zombi, and Gatekeeper. The main difference here is that BYOK doesn't really fit into the retro agenda of John Carpenter worshipping fan boys, instead operating on that distinct Von Himmel wavelength of melody and rhythm to take you into strange and majestic worlds. Unlike VH though, whose collage-like jams bring about all kinds of disorientation in the best of ways, BYOK lets things ride out without abrupt shifts and turns, and the results are perfect for zoning out into oblivion. Throughout the tape, synths wander about and give you the feeling of being transported to beautiful lo-fi worlds of pink skies, inflatable trees, and rainbow colored oceans. Or something. The drum machines are primitive and perfectly suited to get your ass moving into LaLa Land where you will dance your life away and never sleep again. It's a surprisingly fun affair with the greatest strength being its inherent tunefulness and the ease with which the friendly machines fool you into believing they beat with a human heart. Check it out!

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Many folks were disappointed when Cotton Casino decided to drop out of the Acid Mothers Temple. And it wasn't just lecherous psych rock nerds who would no longer be able to ogle the tiny chain smoking, perpetually scowling waif, stationed stoically behind her synthesizers. No, she also happened to contribute some of AMT's most appealing elements with her burbling blooping bleeping space rock synths and her angelic ethereal otherworldly vocals. This is only her second proper, non cd-r release, post AMT, and her first release as Birds, with her musical partner Per Gisele Galaen who had previously played in the groups Sloburn and Del. And damn if this isn't the lovliest AMT related record we've yet heard. As one might imagine, the focus here is Cotton Casino's voice, at once totally delicate and tentative, but at the same time dreamy and haunting. However, it's the surrounding sounds that really make this record special. The record opens acapella, with Casino's quavering vocals sounding like a timid girlish singer in some sort of creepy opera, which only gets creepier once the music comes in, hauntingly strummed guitars that blur into a shimmering minor key backdrop, while tiny electrical impulses whoosh to and fro in the background. After that the record drifts like an unmoored ship, down a dark stream through a dark and ominous forest, the sounds throughout moody and melancholy, with slow motion strings swooping in morose minor key arcs, Casino gurgling like a baby, her bandmate Galaen singing in a barely audible deadpan over swirls of space-y sound effects, the sounds of running water, delicate melodies playing on a heavily reverbed piano far in the distance, the buzz of steel strings ringing out like an electric sitar, dizzying synth melodies careening from speaker to speaker interrupted by wild squalls of full on ultra distorted Japanoise guitar skree, gorgeous folky acoustic guitars beneath Casino's hypnotic sing song vocals, extended stretches of warm droning rumbles, playful Moog melodies and more of that Casino bloopy space synth, sounding almost like Perrey And Kingsley, and finally the whole record finishes off with a six minute blast of full on wall of guitar meltdown, noisy and punishing, but at the same time completely hypnotic, like getting buried in warm wet sound, feeling it fill your ears and your eyes and your mouth, so all you can see or hear or taste is GUITAR, roiling and swirling and pulsing, slowly fading and drifting into space, leaving only a battered old piano, playing a simple melody, accompanied by Casino's barely there angelic purr. Gorgeously packaged with original Pete Fowler artwork (Andee sports several Fowler tattoos in fact!), an image of a pink smoke breathing, wooden helmeted, long stripey armed, black bearded demon, surrounded by birds and squirrels and hairy horses, all rendered in blurred out 3-D on one of those cool three dimensional stereo lenticular cards. Wow!

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Glenn Donaldson has been incredibly active lately in a number of San Francisco psychedelic / improv outfits (all with records out on the local Jewelled Antler cd-r label), including Thuja, the Knit Separates, the Blithe Sons, the Sky Green Leopards, Youth

RealAudio clip: Animals Of The Summit
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SORRY. How 'bout that, we just noticed that this reissue of a rare, super-obscure 1975 improv jazz rock record got a 'review' in one of the latest issues of Vice magazine, of all places! But that kinda makes sense actually, since nudity, drugs, n' sex were seemingly all important elements of Birge/Gorge/Shirac's avant-hippy milieu. That is, judging by the movie on the DVD disc that comes in this deluxe two-disc package, which also features plenty of Vice-worthy fashion do's and don'ts from the freaky French scene back in the mid-seventies! The film in question, La Nuit Du Phoque, is an experimental student opus shot in 1974 by Jean-Jacques Birge and Bernard Mollerat. It's a surreal piece of work that's of course quite dated but certainly amusing and interesting. Political, humorous, psychedelic and very avant garde. Meanwhile Birge and two other cohorts were making crazy music as heard both on the soundtrack of La Nuit Du Phoque and the Defense De album, a truly cult ducument of abstract electronic jazz-prog-psych, one that made it onto the infamous Nurse With Wound list. It was recorded at a friend's dad's apartment who happened to be a free jazz producer and thus kept an 8-track tape recorder and a variety of interesting instruments from pipe organ (!) to cello to xylophone at home. Shiroc was the drummer, Birge played synth, sax, tapes, and more, and Gorge was on guitar, bass, the cello, etc. A friend supplied additional sax and another some electric piano. Sundry other electronics, percussion, ethnic instruments also made into the mix. A big sprawling free-for all, but not an unstructured mess. A lot of this is quite restrained and beautiful, droning and spacious. Apparently, these guys were in high school when they started doing stuff like this! Later they went on to found Un Drame Musical Instantane, an experimental music group still active today. The cd with Defense De contains not only the original LP but also four previously unissued tracks, while the DVD disc not only features the 41-minute La Nuit Du Phoque film but SIX MORE HOURS of previously unreleased Birge/Gorge/Shriac audio! And that's some of the best stuff on here. Wow.

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Drone damage industrial synth noise collaboration between Belgian avant noisemaker Cassis Cornuta and our old pals Olson and Connelly of Wolf Eyes, who together, whip up a gloriously noisy (and surprisingly listenable) slab of buzz and hiss and drone and drift. Wrapped in some of the most stunning packaging EVER, like most of the Ultra Eczema stuff. A massive fold out thick paper sleeve, the outside adorned with weird veiny, brainy skull-like monster heads, white on a greyish brown background, super creepy and icky, the inside, a full color landscape with a orange rock monster attacking a pregnant lady with a knife in the middle of a foresty swamp, while all around lurk goopy green melty creatures, with the tops of their heads removed and their bright orange brains leaking out. Eeeuw. And as if that weren't enough, this one sided disc, features an amazing etching on the the b-side, another creature, all bulging eyes and dripping brains. So what's it sound like? A dense staticky synth rumble beneath clouds of whirring electronic glitch, laid atop massive slow moving slabs of low end, rife with lots of almost-melodies, peals of feedback and high pitched sinewave like tones. Everything wrapped in thick swirls of distortion and and amp damage crumble, occasionally interrupted by stretches of near ambient grind, blown out spaced out FX and creaking industrial crunch and clatter. It's definitely noisy, and harsh at times, this basically is a 'noise' record after all, but it's surprisingly listenable, and downright pretty at times, droney and drifty as often as it is abrasive or brutal. Nice. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!!

Currently a faculty member in the Center for Contemporary Music at Mills College, John Bischoff has been composing music with computers and electronics since the mid 70s, and has always focused his compositions towards malleable forms that best suit live performances. Within this context, Bischoff seeks to position the construction of sound far beyond the common perception of synthetic music as a mere simulation of the intrinsic sounds of traditional instruments. Instead, Bischoff qualifies his work as the realization of a "reflective intention," where he determines sonic structure not only through the predetermined elements which go into a piece, but also through the active process of listening to the music as it happens and responding accordingly. During the '70s when programming involved crude systems of binary code, Bischoff's vision of the possibilities for computer-based composition fused to performative agency seemed implausible; yet in hindsight, his artistic imperatives were incredibly prescient of contemporary tools such as the nearly omnipotent audio synthesis language Max/MSP, which has been at the core of Bischoff's recent work. An aptly named set of compositions, Aperture opens the possibility for multiple readings through a series of diverse techniques ranging from additive synthesis to FM synthesis to sampled-based processes. Each of the pieces on the album was recorded in real-time with no overdubs. Aperture introduces itself with clusters of samples that sprawl with the deliberate pacing of Morton Feldman's later period, yet Bischoff renders what might be recognizable citations of a piano or percussion as pointillist condensations of digitized pixels and precise plastic details. Over the course of the following pieces, Bischoff unleashes coarse streams of electrons which flange and pulse within the caustic firestorm of divergent timestretching, giving the impression that Bischoff is quite literally tearing the fabric of sound. Bischoff also offers a collaboration with Kenneth Atchley and complements the oversaturated physical noise of Atchley's water fountain sculptures with short digital articulations that ride on the top of Atchley's dense textures. This is Bischoff's first recording in quite sometime, and has been well worth the wait!

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Early on in the history of Sublime Frequencies, we can only imagine Alan Bishop (yup, of the Sun City Girls) giggling in his inimitably sinister way as he compiled the Radio series of Burroughsian leaps and jumps across the AM, FM, and shortwave bands recorded whilst he travelled through India, Sumatra, Morocco, Thailand, Palestine, and elsewhere. Bishop occasionally would let the dial stay on a particularly choice pop song, a weird commercial, or a flamboyant call signal mimicking the worst of the worst American conceits; but often these recordings were attention deficit disorder informed collages with lots of wild-dial twiddling and ear-fatiguing, media-saturated overload. For Radio Moderna, Bishop holds up the mirror back to the US with our own talk-radio demagoguery, legalistic religiosity, and crackpot tautologies. The first side of this tape is given the suitably blunt title "Complete Fucking Idiot Losers" with Bishop injecting those sutured textual collages with shards of shortwave noise, squalidly detuned FM-pop, and his own "go fuck yourself" commentary that's a less beatnik version of his infamously belligerent Uncle Jim persona. The flip "Quality Information" is far more difficult / Dada in the smattering of talk-radio decontextualized by the brain-jamming jump-cuts of Bishop bouncing between five or eight different radio stations. Of course, this damn thing is limited.

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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.

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Another release from the former Sun City Girl, and this one needs just a little context: While in Switzerland, Bishop came across a guitar that mesmerized him, so he bought it, took it to Morocco, and improvised some tunes on the rooftop of a Tangier apartment building. If you aren't listening carefully, this will be just as good as every other acoustic SRB recording: drifting passages of ragas, flamencos, and cosmic Americana all twisted together. What sets this recording apart is the simplicity: recorded outside, without a pick, and with absolutely stunning clarity makes Tangier Sessions perhaps the most beautiful recording by Bishop yet. There isn't a lot that needs to be said about this one. If you've never heard an SRB recording before, this is the PERFECT starting point, and if you're an SRB vet, this is just another must-have!

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New split LP from guitar wizards and warriors Bill Orcutt and Sir Richard Bishop. Strangely enough, the first album these two have done together (although they have toured together, which we assume was the catalyst for this release). On the "Kali" side, Sir Richard Bishop unleashes his usual brand of psyched-out guitar elegance, constantly drifting between hypnotic strums and chaotic stabs, always returning to a common melodic line, a sort of chorus that keeps the 17-minute piece cohesive and, dare we say, structured. Like an internationally-trained and DMT-dosed John Fahey, Bishop deviantly picks apart, plays with, and stitches together all sorts of traditional music schools, all while playing a style so uniquely himself. Echoes of his Sun City Girls days are always present; the whole piece is constantly on the precipice of falling apart and devolving into harsh nonsense (we mean this as a complement), but stays together enough to make it to the end. What Sir Richard Bishop does with an electric guitar is mesmerizing, and what Bill Orcutt does with a 4-string wooden guitar is shocking (again, a compliment). While Bishop lives in a world of technicality and proficiency that occasionally dips into free-form noise, Orcutt lives in the opposite world. An assault of acoustic stabs and possibly some atonal singing (?), the five pieces on his side only occasionally give you a hint of something melodic, and it's only for an instant, before it once again falls apart into cacophony. The climax here is "Always Already Reissued," an unrelenting assault that finally settles into an almost peaceful ending that shows that Orcutt has a little bit of peacefulness somewhere inside him. A beautiful release physically and musically, act fast and get these before we run out!

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Don't let the surfer dude moniker fool you. These Bitchin Bajas feature members of aQ faves Cave, and continue to deliver gorgeous collections of modern krautrock / new age bliss, this new one maybe the blissiest yet, totally tranquil kraut-psych drift that continues to channel the masters into two sidelong sprawls of smolder and shimmer, opening with some serious Michael Rother worthy kraut-age, all super distorted guitar melodies draped over slowly unfurling guitar figures and softly chiming tones, all woven into a deeply meditative mesmer, which builds to a seriously psychedelic coda, before settling once again into more blissed out shimmer. The second half of the A side is all swooping backwards melodies, tangled up with fluttering woodwinds, some serious prog-kraut for sure, lush layers, slow shifting textures, tinkling chimes, blooping basslines, and near the end, some progged out flute that adds a while new vibe to the proceedings. The flipside begins with a brief piece for two prepared organs, and is a gorgeous stretch of lush, thick drones, rife with slow shifting overtones, the sound warm and rich, we would have happily got lost in that track for the duration of the side, but it's really just an intro, for the nearly sidelong "Turiya", which for some reason we were expecting to be super rhythmic, as if it would explode into some driving motorik groove, but instead, it's another fantastically blissful and tranquil drift, a percolating prismatic synthscape, hazy and shimmery, some buried buzz and dreamy distortion, bur for the most part, just a glorious sprawl of kosmische dreaminess. No download code, but does include a small printed insert. Sorry no cd version, only lp and cassette for some dumb reason.

Basically, if you're into the more experimental, droney, improv-y, internationally adventurous, whatever side of the stuff we feature here at AQ, and you like to read which of course you do, and you've got a lousy two bucks, you should pick this up!! Edited by Eric Lanzillotta (of Anomalous records fame), this new 'zine is devoted to all sorts of interestin' music n' stuff, this debut issue featuring Robert Millis waxing nostalgic about his favorite Korean 78 rpm record, an interview with ESP-Disk experimentalist Alan Sondheim, an article about the books of number one Fug Tuli Kupferberg, an Indian travelogue from Sun City Girl Sir Richard Bishop, and a no-holds-barred interview with Dave Nuss of the No Neck Blues Band (which gets into some interesting, open-minded discussion about what might be bullshit or not about NNCK's music!!). A great read. Plus there's a plethora of reviews and other 'zine-ish goodness. 56 pages, digest-sized. Looking forward to issue 2!

Seems that our pal Eric Lanzillotta (former proprietor of Anomalous Records) is serious about this 'zine publishing venture. Issue one of Bixobal appeared just three or four short months ago, now here's the equally interestin' issue number two, again a bargain at two bucks. It's a digest-sized black and white 55 page xeroxed affair, crammed with cool things to read if you're into stuff along the lines of experimental drone, free improv, and international exotica. Based in the Pacific Northwest, Bixobal's got various folks from Sun City Girls/Climax Golden Twins axis on board as contributors. Contents this ish include among other things Part II of Sir Richard Bishop's Indian travelogue, interviews with avant vocalist Phil Minton and electronic musician Robert Haigh, an article about the whys and wherefores of collecting "bad records" with advice about doing so, a Rob Millis essay about the wondrous "talking machine", and a hilarious rant from cranky old Uncle Jim taking music journalism to task for the overuse of certain words, like "jangly" and "soundscape" (good thing we're careful never ever to use such terms, ha!). Plus then there's 24 densely packed pages of music reviews, from Angelblood to Zashiki Warashi. Plenty of readin' here to entertain and inform the average AQ customer for sure!

Already up to issue number 3! Issues #1 and #2 are already sold out, but it looks like we can look forward to the regular appearance of many future issues. Editor Eric "Anomalous" Lanzillotta (with the able assistance of Patrick Marley, Rob Millis, Allan MacInnis and others) has really got a 'zine on his hands. He explains that the main purpose of Bixobal is to be "delving deeper into the worlds of the musicians behind the music" in the form of articles and interviews. The music, in Bixobal's case, being that of the more experimental, psychedelic, folky, obscure international, or otherwise usual variety. Thus, this ish we find an extensive interview with Peter Stampfel of legendary NYC hippie folk outfit the Holy Modal Rounders (his ex-wife, Antonia Stampfel, is also interviewed separately). Whether discussing his theory of the importance of 1957 in the history of rock n' roll, or the effect of recorded sound on musicians' use of vibrato, or the unfortunate inter-band personality conflicts that apparently plagued the Rounders, it's pretty interesting even for those not already Rounders fans. There's another, briefer interview this issue as well, with Gerd Kraus of '70s cosmic krautrockers Limbus 3 (and 4). It's interesting as well. And then there's the usual 'zine things like reviews and ads. Oh, and Rob Millis has another "Talking Machine" column wherein he tells of searching for rare shellac (78rpm records) over in India... yet he doesn't find exactly what you'd think he'd find, his "Victrola favorite" this issue is by the Beatles... or is it?

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We've long been fans of this Norwegian duo, but have only ever listed one of their other records, due in no small part to the fact that the majority of their releases have been of the incredibly limited variety. This one is no different. We listed the Rural Faune cd-r a few months back, limited to 71 copies, this new one on Utech is thankfully limited to 200, so there's still a chance at least that a few more folks can get turned on to these guys' quiet cacophonies. Using mostly guitars and electronics, with a handful of mysterious "amplified objects", Bjerga and Iverson create super dense little soundworlds, heavy on the drone, with finger picked guitars stretched into insectoid like buzz, streaks of feedback and thick layers of glitchy buzz, all smeared into super dreamy longform blissouts, each one dotted with all sorts of sharp and jagged, fuzzy and fragmented sonic bits and baubles. Surprisingly heavy and dirge-like, it's almost like a less low end, more FX drenched SUNNO)))! Packaged in gorgeous hand assembled card stock covers with a pasted on black and white sort of obi. Limited to 200 copies, each one hand stamped. We only got about 15 or so, and we're pretty sure once these are gone we won't be able to get more.

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We won't go into too much detail with this one as it was limited to only 71 copies of which we got the last 20. This Norwegian duo have a pretty lengthy discography, but somehow this is the first disc we've gotten enough of to list (and unfortunately we only got 20 so they'll be gone before you know it). Utilizing a wide array of electronics and amplified objects, Bjerga and Iverson craft a rich world of pulsing and pulsating sound, crackles and squelches, snippets of conversations, shortwave interference and all sorts of random electronic filigree are embedded in warm rivers of rumbling drone and glistening streaks of keening high end shimmer. Glitch and grit pepper huge washes of murky ambience, while multiple layers of sounds slowly shift and drift. Dark and mysterious, droney and lovely. Limited to 71 copies, each one hand numbered, in a cool heavy fabric sleeve, -most- but not all of 'em packaged with a gorgeous see through leaf, and tied shut with a little piece of twine.

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