Much like the entire back catalogue of John Duncan, British avant-drone artist Jonathan Coleclough has often buttressed his work through an ongoing set of collaborations, each of which push his work into interesting territories while maintaining that essence of Coleclough that makes all of his albums so enthralling. His 2006 collaboration with Murmer was easily one of the best drone albums of that year, twisting field recordings and quiet sessions with electric objects into a gauzy, crepuscular blur that even made those at Artforum perk up their ears and listen. Torch Songs came to fruition when both Coleclough and Liles performed in Preston (probably at the request of the ever-charming Colin Potter) in 2005. In fact, much of the source material for Torch Songs originated from Coleclough's performance to which Liles went on to "add, subtract, multiply, and divide" further. The fundamentals of Torch Songs are primarily Coleclough's signature moves: swelling, resonant drones manipulated from acoustic sources and distilled into tonally vibrant beams of pure sound. Yet, Liles (who in and of himself is a fine technician of sonic alchemy to the point where he has often graced the stage alongside Steve Stapleton, Colin Potter, and Matt Waldron in Nurse With Wound) interjects his own sidereal gestures with wooden creaks, digital time stretching, radiant eruptions of dissonant couplings with Coleclough's drones, and occasional jaunts of heavily filtered tin-can and rubber-band rhythms that parallel much of the output from Liles' recent 12 part Vortex series. Yet for all of Liles' baroque flares for the sonically surreal, it is Coleclough who authors the strongest material on Torch Songs through his sublime use of the drone. The first 300 copies of Torch Songs comes with a bonus CD that documents Coleclough's aforementioned Preston performance back in 2005.
Despite our allegiance to all things produced by British drone masters Jonathan Coleclough and Colin Potter, this double disc co-produced with Bass Communion (the solo project of No-Man's Steven Wilson) made us wince at the possibility that Coleclough and Potter had unwittingly stumbled down the path of New Age banality. To be fair to Bass Communion, our only previous encounter with him was a subpar remix album he did for Muslimgauze; providing a lasting impression of Bass Communion as something of a droll ambient contemporary of The Orb. Perhaps we were wrong, as the sprawling collaborations and mixes found here don't exhibit the fluffiness of New Age; but at the same time, some of the source materials do seem quizzically thin, with just a couple of woefully obvious synth tones looping indefinitely through a few eq filters. However, Bass Communion's mix of work by Potter and Coleclough is one of the stronger pieces, with a glacial pall settling upon fluctuating drones and downpitched miasma. Coleclough's first of two mixes is another of the album's highlights, with frozen elements chattering amidst a set of deep, dark ambient passages that would make Lustmord and Thomas Koner jealous. Andee's new favorite going-to-sleep album.
Through his exceptional career that spans work in Ora, a handful of fantastic solo projects, and the AQ-favorite "Sumac" collaboration with Andrew Chalk, Jonathan Coleclough has mastered the harder-than-it-looks art of disguising how he constructs his epic droneworks. His recordings have always been marked by a vigilantly maintained resonance of acoustic phenomena, which appear not as ephemeral sonorities but rather as epochal, monumental tones. "Low Ground" -- recorded in collaboration with engineer extraodinaire Colin Potter (also of Nurse With Wound fame) and saxophonist Tim Hill -- is no exception to the Coleclough blueprints. That said, Coleclough has been slowly moving away from the Ora / Chalk purity of sound, with an increased interest in digitizing his drones.
Under most circumstances, the presence of a saxophone on a drone album would make me cringe in agony; but thankfully, Coleclough's alchemy is so complete that you would be hard pressed to hear anything remotely sounding like a saxophone on "Low Ground." Instead, beautiful slowly aerated pulsations of ringing tones open this album, recalling the strangely comfortable sounds of a radiator pushing hot steam through archaic pipes on a cold winter eveneing. Coleclough and Potter gradually treat these sounds with some DSP actions (mostly timestreching and EQ-filtering) that pixelate into digital buzzings. "Low Ground" shifts from these sedate, transcendent metaphors into far more malevolent sci-fi scores, with the introduction of deep, menacingly low-end frequencies smattered with natural events of snapping twigs and trickling water. As the album draws to a close, Coleclough and Potter twist tiny slashes from the dark, slightly wavering drone into a majestic coda of those digitized radiator wheezes which opened the record.
As wonderful as anything else that Coleclough has done. Very highly recommended.
Boston thereminist James Coleman comes from the very spartan school of improvisational "new music" alongside John Wall, Phil Durrant, and the Durian label. Coleman's spartan wisps of tones from the theremin (that early electronic instrument played without touching it, rather by manipulating the electrical waves emitting from it) accompany a number of guest musicians including Greg
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Colleen is the only music maker we can think of who can so perfectly crawl into our hearts, curling up and making it feel like home, with such delicacy and the softest sweetest touch. While not the official follow up to her gorgeous sophomore outing, The Golden Morning Breaks, this is a collection of recordings she made when commissioned by the French national radio station to record music for a special broadcast of Atelier De Creation Radiophonique (Radiophonic Workshop Of Creation). In taking on this commission Colleen decided to use the opportunity to further explore her love of and work with music boxes. Using everything from miniature music boxes hidden in 1940's birthday cards to huge Victorian parlor boxes, she hijacks and tweaks these boxes to create even more melodic, haunting, and beautiful creations. Whether playing them with her fingers or using a mallet, resampling, adding delay, reverb or pitch shifting, Colleen is one of those rare souls who can somehow make the sound of music boxes even more precious, delicate and dreamlike. Luckily she was happy enough with the results that she allowed Leaf to release this under the name Colleen Et Les Boites (Colleen and the Music Boxes). And once again we wish we could commission Colleen to make music for all of our dreams. So totally beautiful!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
For this double 7" set, sound artist Joe Colley (who recently dropped his longstanding Crawl Unit moniker) presents an exercise in conceptual minimalism, even if the end results aren't entirely keeping in the minimalist tradition. On each composition, Colley manipulates only two tape loops, allowing them to phase in and out of rhythm, slowing them down, speeding them up, and crossfading between the two. Considering that his source materials are ominous electronic field disturbances and hotwired drones, the cross-pollenization of the two loops creates a sonic friction that is intentionally caustic and mechanical. Even the drones are noxious enough as to create a very tense environment for the mantra of looping crackle and hum.
Anthem collects two sets of long out-of-print 3" inch singles from Joe Colley's earlier days, right after he shed the Crawl Unit moniker in the early oughts. There's the titular track which was originally released on C.I.P, which came out in 2001 and which we had been able to stock back in the day through Mr. Colley himself. The flipside contains all of the material from the uncomfortably packaged triple-business-card cd-r entitled Triptych For Paranoia Calibration, released through the terminally underground California noise label Banned Productions. The first side, subtitled "Static For Empty Life", lifts itself out of deep rumblings with streaming, cold gray ribbons of electrical fizzings that subtly phase across the stereo field. These physically active drones build up to a sublime chorus of electrical field hummings, that deflate into silence before throbbing mechanical stabs of low-bit-rate noise drive to the end of the piece. Where moments of "Anthem" are relatively placid and almost pretty (for a Joe Colley track, that's saying something!), "Triptych" is a torturous affair of brutalist squiggles, damaged circuit-bending techniques, mistreated electronics, and dead-line tones, all of which get caught in out of phase tape loops. Brilliantly toxic work, as always. Limited to just 200 copies.
While he may have permanently dropped his industrialist moniker Crawl Unit, Joe Colley continues to impress with his ominous compositions of mistreated electronics, tonally pleasing feedback mantras, and abrasive physicality. "Anthem: Static For Empty Life" lifts itself out of deep rumblings with streaming, cold gray ribbons of electrical fizzings that subtly phase across the stereo field. These physically active drones build up to a sublime chorus of electrical field hummings, which abruptly jump-cut to throbbing mechanical stabs of low-bit-rate noise. Often alluding to less specific metaphors of urban decay or social collapse, Colley's aesthetic choices are just as strong as work by John Duncan or Francisco Lopez. It's a bit of shame that it's 18 minutes long, but it does make for a great ride!
If you hold the cover at just the right angle, a misanthropic and self-loathing text emerges from what might appear at first to be simply just another austere, all white package housing another austere album of micro-glitch minimalism. This well-executed design strategy (courtesy of Randy Yau) works to complement Joe Colley's subversive agenda, which even ends up undermining his own intentions. For all of the macho posturing of the text (e.g. "REMEMBER HOW WE DESTROYED THE THINGS THAT MADE US HAPPY AND HOW WE STILL DO? LETS DAMAGE EACH OTHER BEYOND REPAIR..." and so on) and the opening 8 second jolt of unneccessary noise, Colley's sound constructions speak of an inquisitive spirit. Throughout this record, Colley pokes and prods various sonic-making situations that often hold fascinating textural detailings. The most obvious example of this is found in his recordings of water being absorbed by modelling clay, which results in a dense chorus of tiny squeaks and squiggles. Colley almost allows himself to be seduced by these sounds; but just before he does, that misanthropic urge deep within his being instructs him to obliterate those curious textures though harsh digital noises, piercing arpeggiations, and noxious jump-cuts. This strategic hammering of sound certainly keeps the listener alert to what may be coming next; thus making the intricate detail work far more enjoyable... if "enjoyable" can in fact be a description attributed to Colley's solo output or his earlier work as Crawl Unit.
A few months ago, the French label Ferns published a brilliant 3" CD from mnortham who created an homage to his father, the race car driver, through a ecstatic droning collage of racetrack recordings. The very next release from the label happens to be from the Bay Area's Joe Colley, who in turn, composed a unsettling piece dedicated to his father as well, the beekeeper. We simply could not help notice the coincidence of the fatherly inspiration found on these two recordings, and wonder if the next couple (i.e. Small Cruel Party and Giancarlo Toniutti, if you must know) will follow the same pattern in creating sonic portraits. As you probably could ascertain, Colley's Hive is sourced from beehives, with many of the recordings processed and mangled. With the resultant sounds being much less destructive / misanthropic than those heard on Psychic Stress Soundtracks or Desperate Attempts At Beauty, Colley pursues a relatively subtle composition through the anxious energy of bees rattling within a hive and swarming drones that have been hushed into a peculiarly dreamy cloud of soft white noises. Hive is incredibly well executed, but the lack of anything overtly abrasive, toxic, or downright meanspirited in a Colley piece can be a little unsettling, as we had braced ourselves for the swarm of bees to erupt from the speakers in a nightmarish attack of razor-sharp distortion. But after the second and third listens to Hive, we sank into the rich buzzing sounds wondering if this is how it sounds to have a colony of bees placidly crawling over one's head. Very nicely done.
Some 10 years ago, there was Joe Colley hulking over a four-track on the floor of 964 Natoma - a performance space in San Francisco that hosted the monthly Field Effects series by Aaron Ximm (aka Quiet American). Ximm populated the very large loft in that converted autobody shop into one of the best places to experience live music, by encouraging the audience to sprawl out on futons, couches, bean bags, and pillows in order to better zone-out and focus on the sounds at hand. While much of the work that Ximm would curate focused on sound ecology and phonography, he would bring in some more intense acts such as R.H.Y. Yau & Scott Arford's legendary Infrasound, Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson, and Joe Colley. At the time of this performance in 2002, Colley was just starting to record under his own name after a stint using the far more abject moniker Crawl Unit. As the explosive and negating power of his earlier noise constructions matured into complex, more conceptual pieces, Colley began to develop into something akin to the Bruce Naumann of sound art - with repetitive, occasionally self-destructive actions that investigated psychological, behavioral, and cultural codes.
"Lonely Microphone" is a reconstruction from the original tape-piece that Colley presented at 964 Natoma; and our memory of the night doesn't recall much more than the view of the lumbering Colley crouched over his gear and the impact of his signature jolts of sonic juxtaposition. Here, Colley masterfully puts together an album that looks to the woolly electronic scrabblings of David Tudor, the expressive environmental collage work of Eric La Casa, and the dead-line feeds of CM von Hausswolff. Ugly buzzes from gutted consumer electronics, terse piezo chirps, blasts of wind-shearing noise, monstrous din from some infernal machine belching beneath the San Francisco urbane crust, and plenty of watery field recordings threatening to short out Colley's haphazardly constructed microphones and hand-soldered circuits. That sense of threat is a constant in Colley's work, the threat of disaster, the threat that nothing will be resolved, the threat of another dead end, the threat that 'no' might be the only answer. "Lonely Microphone" is one of the more subtle presentations of Colley's work, and more self-contained than the post-structuralist ellipsis of his opus "Disasters Of Self." Recommended as with pretty much everything he's ever done.
Once known as Crawl Unit, the Californian misanthrope Joe Colley has never been as prolific as many of his contemporaries such as Francisco Lopez, Daniel Menche, and The Hafler Trio. While this is not to say that none of those artists exhibit much in the way of quality control (quite the contrary!), Joe Colley's constant fussiness coupled with a self-identification with failure lends his recordings to readings as these fringe elements of sound research touching on psychological issues into the nether regions of the human psyche as well as mechanical engineering gone awry. It's been a little over two years since Colley's previous album Desperate Attempts At Beauty, and we have to say that Psychic Stress Soundtracks is a step up from that impressive piece of work. Refreshingly devoid of digital effects and techniques, the Psychic Stress Soundtracks feature five lengthy compositions in which a handful of surplus electronics, motors, and mechanical objects have been rewired to exaccerbate their collapse. Within the hiss of circuits meltings and gears jamming, Colley coaxes a toxic array of hums, clicks, pings, and drones, and in turn, sculpts them into an amazing set of electro-shock minimalism confounded by numerous compositional detours and ruptures. This is well worth checking out!
Earlier in 2006, Joe Colley won an Award of Distinction at the 2006 Prix Ars Electronica in Digital Music for his album Psychic Stress Soundtracks. The jurors of Ars Electronica grafted a political sentiment onto Colley's work by drawing parallels between Psychic Stress Soundtracks and the use of extreme sound as a method of interrogation pushed to the brink of what can be defined as torture under the Geneva Convention. While Colley's previous work has intentionally blurred the boundaries between noise, sound research, and psychology, all of his investigations (including Psychic Stress Soundtracks) appear as exercises in self-negation and existential failure manifested through maltreated electronics (as opposed to what those at Ars Electronica saw in his work as a mimetic work of external horror). Waste Of Songs is a blunt follow up to Psychic Stress Soundtracks, and true to Colley's demeanor, he's not particularly inclined to resolve any questions about the intentions of his album or its relation to the outside world. Rather, it's another brilliantly executed album of his own "negative reactions to an environment" as realized through jittering electronic feedback, overdriven servo-motors smoldering with too much voltage pushed through their dynamos, volatile drones extracted from the ether, and field recordings rendered toxic with choice use of DSP treatments. The exact synthesis between Xenakis' precision and Wolf Eyes' malaise; yeah, that's close enough to describing this. Highly recommended.
This is not a split release as Joe Colley is the individual behind Crawl Unit, and perhaps should be seen as an indication that Joe is phasing out his Crawl Unit moniker. Regardless, "Sound Until The World Ends" is another great addition to the often overlooked / underappreciated catalogue of Mr. Colley, whose work has always been as good / if not better than Francisco Lopez, Zbigniew Karkowski, and other manipulators of physical sound. This vinyl only LP (as is the case for everything released so far on ERS) is broken into discrete sections which begin quite benignly with low-end drones and the delicate flutter of delay pedals feeding back upon themselves. But any tranquility these sounds offer quickly dissipates amidst noxious distortions and chopped white noise that steadily build up into a crescendo and quickly drop off into an abyss of deep tonal floats. This is the pattern that Colley follows through 4 or 5 sections throughout the record. Constructed at Colley's base of operations in Sacramento during the much ballyhooed California power crisis in the summer of 2001, "Sound Until The World Ends" alludes to the hyperboles of apocalyptic literature (found in the title and the pseudo-luddite note that this album was "mixed by hand (without a computer)". Given how incredibly hot Sacramento can get in the summer, such references may be warranted. Nevertheless, this is a great album.
Some experimental music is more experimental than other experimental music. Nicolas Collins' Devil's Music, it's safe to say, was (and is) an Experiment. One that tests a theory described in the liner notes: "I have long assumed the radio to be the world's cheapest, yet most powerful synthesizer: you can find any sound out there; the only question is, can you find the sound you want when you want it?" Naturally, the results of this experiment fall into that realm of unusual sounds that would be reissued by Japan's ever-eccentric EM Records label, and glad we are of EM's diligent efforts to dig up such artifacts!
Devil's Music hails from the heyday of sampling music (late '80s), so it bears some similarity to the works of Christian Marclay and Steinski, but Collins is (as per his theorizing) using radios, not turntables. It also reminds us of stuff by John Oswald, the Tape-Beatles, and other "plunderphonic" artists, but in John Cage like fashion, Collins has introduced an element of chance into the genre of sample-basic music making. Inspired also by hip hop DJs, Collins' music here is performed live, in a spontaneous, improvisatory mode, at the mercy of whatever he can snatch from the local airways at that very moment to weave into his stuttery sound-collages. Every performance was thus very different in audio content, if not structure and rhythm.
Further explanation, from the liner notes to the original Devil's Music LP (1986): "[F]ragments of radio broadcasts are digitally sampled, looped, re-triggered and occasionally reversed or de-tuned. All material is taken from FM and AM transmissions occuring at the time of the performance. The performer plays off of certain musical ground-rules intrinsic to the sampling system (which consists of two modified inexpensive effect devices) to develop the quirky rhythmic interplay that characterizes the piece."
Conceptually (and chaotically) interesting, definitely, but difficult listening too. You know best your own tolerance for this sort of thing. People into rhythmic noisiness ought to like it. The density of this "music", and the element of repetition, makes it mesmeric, maybe. But for many, it might be maddening - ferinstance, hearing some anonymous announcer man say "outdoor swimming pool" over and over and over again, nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nineteen style, amidst a barrage of (drum machine?) beats, before the track shifts, ADD-like, to another non-sequitur sample randomly snatched from the airwaves, is sure to drive some folks nuts!
Though the first side of Devil's Music is supposed to be "dance" oriented (he tuned into his favorite of New York's urban dance stations, like a DJ looking for breaks), the inclusion of voices from radio advertising tends to dominate. The second side of Devil's Music is maybe a bit more, um, musical seeming in its source material. "More rock, less talk" would be the motto, except it's not rock, actually easy listening and classical radio stations being plundered. Both sides are featured on the first disc of this two disc set, along with a previously unreleased 1988 tape music piece utilizing lots of voices scanned from police band radio, ship-to-shore transmissions, taxi dispatch, etc., which aren't all cut up and stuttery like on Devil's Music, but patched together into more of a "narrative" exercise.
The second disc here consists of yet more delirious variations on the Devil's Music concept, realized at live concerts in Europe and the USA, originally released on a 1987 cassette release entitled Real Landscape. And also, in addition, on this disc you'll find a computer program Collins wrote recently that's essentially a software "recreation" of his original hardware set-up and compositional strategy so that YOU can plug a radio into your computer and try making the Devil's Music yourself!! There's both Mac and PC versions provided. (Not included on the vinyl format, obviously.)
And there's extensive liner notes (complete with footnotes) from Collins about his ideas, methods, and equipment (with color photos of the latter, for all you tech geeks). EM, as always, has certainly done a thorough job with this release, which deserves the attention. Difficult listening it may be, but put into historical context, you can see how some consider Collins a bit of a techno pioneer, and certainly hear how his work foreshadowed the digital "glitch" music of Oval and Lesser and the like later on.
One of four new Root Strata cassettes we got in this week, William Fowler Collins debut release for the label is easily the darkest of 'em all. Trading in his electric guitar for a wholly different instrument, the shruti box (a hand-pumped acoustic drone instrument), Collins nevertheless manages to create a chillingly holistic composition that surges and delves into otherworldly realms while keeping the filtered feedback and power drones of his previous works intact. We have been huge fans of his work since his first release Western Violence and Brief Sensuality, and fans of his most recent dark desert doom epic Perdition Hill Radio released on Type last year will definitely need to get this. "Part I" has more of a cosmic upward momentum as the sped-up pulsations of the instrument seem to shimmer and float toward the sun. It's not necessarily heavenly as the composition seems to lose all air as it simmers and takes on more heat. On "Part II" however, things take a more earthbound turn. The drones grow thicker and more wooly, ringing with denser tones and urgent almost molten tonal pulses and sawtoothlike sparks of white noise. We can't help but think of Icarus, before and after his fall. A truly doomed epic. Limited to 100 copies. It'll be gone before you know it, so don't hesitate!
We were big fans of William Fowler Collins' debut album, Western Violence & Brief Sensuality, so we're very happy to see that his follow-up, Perdition Hill Radio is being released on one of our favorite experimental labels, Type. Fitting right at home between Koen Holtkamps's dreamy effervescent drift and Svarte Greiner's darkly spectral shipwreck atmospherics, Collins offers an intense nocturnal Western counterpart to the unrelenting Southwest heat of his debut. And from the image of a dim moon behind a dark looming hill on the cover, it's obvious this is a much more doom-laden outing than before. Like slow motion black holes opening in the dark desert sand, the guitar drones that Collins conjures undulate and pull us down into a nether world of enveloping starless night, the air electric with magnetic activity and static radio transmissions that churn and dissipate in an infernal ebb and flow of sonic waves. Like moving indiscernible shapes in the dim light, uncertain sounds peek out through the din, prowling animal growls, ghostly disembodied dialogue like EVP transmissions buried under sheets of noise that at times conjure images of passing trains, horse-led stagecoaches, mysterious Native American rituals, and swarms of flies. The song titles like "Grave Robbing In Texas" and "Slow Motion Prayer Circle" only add to the dread and mystery of what those fleeting sounds could allude to. On the album's 21 minute centerpiece, "Dark Country Road", the far-off echoing twang of a slide guitar can be heard fading into the distance before a mountainous dronescape rises out of the still air and crests tunnel-like into an inky pool of uneasy shimmer for much of its length (the vinyl version ends in a locked groove!). Only on the last song, "The Ghosts of Eden Trail", does the sound brighten up into a beautifully levitating and expansive drifting ambience offering just a glimpse of torturing hope. The limited double vinyl version contains a side-long bonus track, "Saturnine Reverie" not on the cd. We have often said that Earth's later records are Cormac McCarthy novels in song, but Perdition Hill Radio is the closest comparison to an imagined soundtrack for The Road that we have ever heard, and that of course means this has our highest recommendation!!!
The latest from William Fowler Collins finds this prolific soundscaper and dronologist once again delving deep into the shadows, conjuring up a world of permanent darkness, grim and austere, a black ambience that the label compares to Eno, but only if there is some alternate universe Eno, all clad in black, and hunkered down, beneath an ominous array of machines, that look to be designed by HR Giger, and whose sounds could have been designed by Giger as well.
The five part songsuite opens with a sprawl of thick whirring grey noise, a blurred droned out gristly thrum, that is suddenly snuffed out, leaving just plaintive piano, plinking out a melancholy melody, suspended in the ether, stately and hauntingly morose.
From there the sound shifts into a black ambient drift, beginning as a minimal murmur, slowly gaining momentum, piling layer upon layer, the sound growing more caustic and clattery, building to a chaotic coda, before slipping back into a hushed blur. The third movement conjures up some seriously sinister cinematic drones, deep rumbles, like some demonic orchestra tuning up, cavernous and ominous, which gives way to the even MORE minimal and ominous fourth movement, a deep Teutonic rumbling, laced with strange bits of abstract sound, the track gradually and VERY subtly growing more melodic, before finishing in a blaze of grinding chaotic white noise.
From there on out, the record seems to be winding down, the fifth part sounding like The Caretaker, a washed out sprawl of hazy occluded melancholy, buried melodies, and slow shifting textures, a haunting bit of old timey abstract sonic mesmer, which leads to the final track, the most minimal of the bunch, a hushed bit of barely there drift, a barely audible thrum, over more murky melodies, volume cranked it's quite lovely, but definitely a strangely subdued final movement, at least until the last couple minutes (be sure to lower the volume if you had it cranked), a furiously blown out in-the-red blast of face melting howl and LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!
- MPEG stream: I
- MPEG stream: II
- MPEG stream: III
Known as "The Land of Enchantment", the romantic appeal of New Mexico also harbors a thinly veiled sinister quality. Despite its prominence as an epic desert monument heralding incredible vistas and inspiring a nature-based spirituality from its large population of Native Americans, New-Agers and even Catholic Hispanics who flock to the sanctuary of Chimayo every year to take a bit of holy soil said to be blessed with healing powers, the western expansion of the US has also brought to the land massive genocide, toxic pollutants, and covert Government operations. On William Fowler Collins debut CD, the former Mills College graduate who recently relocated to New Mexico, explores the paradoxical perspective of his adopted home through his experimental guitar compositions that are equally beautiful and jarring. Collins' varied use of the guitar with the help of filters and computer programs evokes a wide range of electro-acoustic tropes, many reminiscent of field recordings. The bristling sheets of loud distorted drone that open "Dawn at McDonald Ranch" come across like an air-raid siren or a swarm of locusts before it diffuses into waves of pensive yet gossamer shimmer. The industrial crackle and whirring machine drones of "Untitled Dream 2" recall the metallic toxicity of Superfund sites, and the staticy build-up of broadcast transmissions retains a warm shifting undertone that eases the tension slightly by invoking the bucolic domiciles where such threats live in uneasy harmony. Images of magnetic storms, train engines, electrical lines, and the high-powered industry that Collins evokes through his guitar work are tempered by quietly restrained passages that harbor introspective reflection over the vast and contradictory landscape of mountains, arid deserts and broken mesas. Having previously played with Matmos, Aero-Mic'd, and in his former band Mire, it's nice to see Collins coming into his own on this amazing and accomplished debut. Fans of Tim Hecker, Steven R. Smith, and Flying Saucer Attack should check this out. Recommended!!
THREE, count 'em, three new releases from Utech Records on this week's list, all of them collaborations, this one here with a sonically Southwestern focus, teaming up New Mexican soundscaper William Fowler Collins with Arizona blackdronedirgedoom outfit Gog (both big AQ faves), for some sprawling, smoldering epic black expanses of slow building glacial dirgery and blurred blacknoisedrift. Three epic jams, separated by brief sonic explorations, the longform compositions find Collins and Gog conjuring up swirling black rituals, of hazy rumble and softly churning low end thrum, the sound growing subtly more crunchy and caustic, gradually transforming from hushed ominous shimmer to thick, heaving, roiling heaviness, crumbling avalanches of smeared soft noise, wreathed in strange high end shimmers and shot through with convulsing layers and buried melodies.
"Abandonment" is a creepy bit of subterranean murk, driven by a haunting heartbeat like pulse, the swirling surrounding sounds becoming more and more active, those sounds in turn wreathed in a staticky hiss, building to a swirling psychedelic squall of blurred feedback, keening high end and dense spirals of heavy hiss, before gradually fading back out to a whisper, all the whole, that strange pulse giving the black hissy drift some glacial propulsion. The final track, a massive nearly 18 minute stunner titled "Of Ash And Wind ", begins again, with some distant rumblings, some foghorn like melodies, some groaning and creaking, and deep dark rumbles, but unlike the other three tracks, this one is not a slow build, instead, the sounds ooze and drift and congeal into a creepy pitch black bit of cinematic stasis, definitely headphones required on this one, a softly churning stretch of slow motion shimmer, a deep blackened crawl, laced with strange bits of static and industrial crunch, but those sounds so minimal that minus headphones they just bleed into the surrounding blackness.
Gorgeous stuff. A heady bit of ultra minimal ritualistic black noise / dark ambience that will sound right at home alongside the rest of your ever expanding Utech collection...
Fantastic packaging as always, this time a super intense/beautiful cover image by photographer Max Aguilera-Hellweg.
Our in-house mycologist (how many record stores can claim one of those?) identified the cover star of this album as an Amanita muscaria, a very colorful and toxic mushroom found throughout the globe. While deaths are uncommon to this particular mushroom, it's also known for its psychoactive properties whose chemical compounds are not actually processed by the human body. So, after consuming one of these mushrooms, you can drink your pee and trip for days. Well, that's what Nick the resident mycologist tells us.
The cosmic trip from Colored Mushroom & The Medicine Rocks comes by way of Cleveland, starring the seemingly ubiquitous John Elliott (Emeralds, Mist, Imaginary Softwoods, Outer Space, etc.) with three other dudes who got together Christmas time of 2009 jamming out a bunch of tapes. This hyper limited LP is a best-of collection from those tapes, whose linear structures of percolating synths, post-Suicide drum machinations, and shimmered tone resembles much of the zoned out work from early Emeralds crossed with the glistening properties of those Mist LPs. Given that this album was released right before Emeralds embarked on a huge US tour opening for Caribou, most of these lps had been sold out on the road. It remains to be seen if we'll be getting any more copies from this pressing which counted less than 500 copies...
Column One are a hermetic lot, and that even may be something of an understatement. What we can ascertain is that there's one or two key members in this ensemble that have been producing albums and multimedia events mostly in their native Germany since around 1990 or so. Within their decentralized workflow and Dada strategies, Column One's output can fluctuate wildly from Geniale Dilettanten aspiring synth noise to rhythmic militancy to radiophonic explorations, all the while keening towards a Teutonic winteriness and attitude of dour post-industrialism. The two tracks that Column One deliver for the exceptional Substantia Innominata series of 10" vinyl from Drone Records couldn't be more different from each other. The A-side is a plunderphonic-style collage of wacked-out musique concrete and eviscerated spluttered sound that hedges toward the Sylvie & Babs end of the Nurse With Wound spectrum of demented silliness. The B-side finds a couple of Column One's participants within Die Sibirische Zelle (The Siberian Lodge), a space which the collective operated as an alternative performance space, and it also seemed to have some rich acoustic properties as well. With the three participants setting up in three different chambers of the space with gongs, bowls, and bells to create a darkened, occluded piece of ritualized meditation music. It's still more Zoviet France than Iasos, with the harmonics clearly situated in the mystical realms of the sacred. This is as beautiful as the flip is scatterbrained.
No, that's not a typo. The album is in fact called 'Early Apes' which is a different anthology than the earlier reviewed collection 'Early Tapes' by Column One, which is a rather strange post-industrial project that cites Dada as a technical blueprint for their collage-based actions, performances, and recordings. The band also speaks of "the politics of confusion" when describing what they're up to, and that seems about right even more so for this collection compared to the aforementioned Early Tapes with its gray masses of decentered loops loaded with psychological disturbances. But again, the spirit of Cranioclast seems to loom large in Column One's sensibility, in part due to the hermeticism of the work but also through the loose collage techniques which intertwine ritualistic rhythms into tape machinations and warbling electronics. The first three tracks on Early Apes come from the 1994 album A Dream Box Experience, which was a super limited LP printed up in an edition of 100 copies. These tracks are quite Spartan with plenty of space draped between the skeletal rhythms and with the specter of feedback resonances looming in the far distance and subtle rumblings that echo as if from some unknown dimension breaking through. The next two cuts are collaborative works with the Polish outfit Za Siodma Gora, but seem to maintain much of Column One's hypnotic patterning and buzzing sound accretions. The final cut "Great Minds Against Themselves Conspire" is an almost rock-based number, more akin to Sprung Aus Den Volken with an insistent bassline and rhythm section laced with exotic marimbas, wooden flutes, twanged guitars, and monotone vocals. This would be the kind of track that Wim Wenders would have picked for one his films back in the '80s, and it's something that would have been an interesting turn for Column One to pursue. Of course, they found other routes to take and concepts to realize, leaving this track a teasing piece of structuralism in their otherwise deconstructed amalgams. Comes in an oversized folio with a pile of postcards.
Column One is a mysterious German post-industrial project that began in 1991 injecting their grim constructions of crumbled noise, avant-turntablism, drone, and grimy grit with allusions to science, gnosticism, eschatology, and Dada. Their mission is one that seems to follow that of Cranioclast - another hermetic project from Germany whose hypnotic looping pieces are girded by strange texts, anagrams, and shadowy metaphor. As the title of the album attests, this is a collection of the earliest material from Column One culled from their first cassettes as well as some unreleased material recorded around the same time. A morose, unsettled atmosphere hangs throughout all of the 13 tracks, with blackened synth tones, gristled pulses, and martial rhythms slowly revolving through appropriated collages snatched from radio and old records playing Germanic anthems. Where the stained electronics certainly have their roots in the gnarled TG / SPK ambience of autopsy films and horror dronescaping, the found sonic objects remove Column One from the death-industrial camps of Brighter Death Now or anything found on Cold Meat Industries in the mid-'90s. These warbling, decentered loops and deformed, mediated samples are handled in an almost poetic and painterly manner that could be considered psychedelic if everything weren't so fucking dark. If not a direct influence on Dominic Fernow, these early Column One pieces articulate the same disturbed psychological vibe that Fernow built into his Christian Cosmos and Vatican Shadow recordings. Housed in an oversized sleeve with 8 postcards.
Comae is a new collaborative project formed by London-based sound architect Janek Schaefer and Robert Hampson (Main, Loop). Beautiful guitar based sonicscapes are accentuated with found sound abstractions and spatial dynamicism (via piercing test tones
A couple years back, we raved about a disc called The Dematerialized Passenger, the first album from this unique band (or perhaps we should say project), remember? In case you don't, here's the deal: Combat Astronomy are a USA/UK collaboration, creating a crushing industrial/jazz/prog hybrid. Imagine Godflesh with a free improv horn section, saxophones squealing amidst the metallic riffage. Or Scorn taking a skronked-out stab at chamber music. Like their earlier release, this new Combat Astronomy opus is again laced with punishing, rigid drummachine beats, along with heavy, uber-low-end fretless bass shaking each song with doomic distortion. Which establishes an absurdly heavy context for sax, clarinet, flute and bassoon to freak out organically, like wild weeds creeping through cracks in giant slabs of concrete, on the floor of an abandoned factory somewhere.
But unlike their all-instrumental debut, this time Combat Astronomy have recruited a female vocalist, Elaine di Falco, who also plays some piano, to add yet another unusual dimension to their mashup of extremes, now reminding us slightly of James Plotkin's now forgotten post-Old project Flux. (Hmm, maybe Kayo Dot and later Ulver could be other comparisons now too.) If the addition of her vocals makes this a bit more overtly melodic, it's still no less extreme overall. And certainly just as intricate, her delicate vocal arrangements in themselves quite complex, multi-tracked, as on the urban R&B influenced (???? no, we're crazy) "Touch The Moon" and the album's whispery coda, "Ordinary Miracles". And the focus of CA is still on the ominous grooves, ambient electronics, and battling horn bleats... tracks like "Alive Inside Eternity" and "Sentinel" are lengthy epics (12:36 and 16:49, respectively) of serious beats and blats and skree, in the challenging, compelling, militant manner to which actually only Combat Astronomy can truly lay claim. The vocals, when present, then take it into another, equally unlikely, atmospheric realm of twisted prog-pop. Pretty darn cool!
You don't really hear much about Combat Astronomy, except from us at Aquarius Records (do you?). Which is weird, 'cause this band should be a lot better known than they are, among fans of heavy and/or freaky music, considering they're already on their third (and a half, counting a split) cd release, one that has been long awaited, for a certain subset of AQ-customers in the know. For those not in the know, we'll say that basically CA sound like a Justin Broadrick or Kevin Martin industrial metal act (Godflesh or God, something along those lines) mixed up with freeform improv horn-skree, for results both brutal and beautiful. This band, or we should say this collaborative trans-Atlantic project, to be precise, is the unholy spawn of American sub-bass sludge technician Jamie Huggett and British improv reedsman Martin Archer (and friends). Thus they don't play live that often, which might have something to do with their low profile. They're self-described as an "intense hypnagogic industrial/jazz/prog/doommetal hybrid", and we can't think of any other outfit that better fits that mouthful. As we now know to expect, CA's new disc dishes out uber heavy doomic annihilation, bludgeoning with squelching bass and machine-like beats, the entire thing in fact percussive in its distorted rhythmic impact, amidst ominous organ and rising electronic drone. Yet CA also has a prog/classical side, thanks to Archer's woodwinds and also some female vocals, first introduced to this previously all instrumental act on their 2nd album Dreams No Longer Hesitate, returning here only wordessly, to eerie, avant garde effect. With that in mind, and all the heavy bass, Magma fans might find this to be their extreme sludge combo of choice. We'd also of course recommend Combat Astronomy to those who appreciate the likes of Painkiller, 16-17, Scorn, and even UFOmammut...
And Earth Divided By Zero might just be their best disc yet, keeping the expanded palette of sounds found on their last outing, but leaving aside that disc's occasional surprise explorations of vocal (prog) pop song-ishness, instead forging a more organic synthesis of what we REALLY dig about this unit, the grinding low end and squealing sax skronk, the heavy rhythms and atmospheric, ambient-ish interludes. Not that it's without melodic surprises, like how track two tries to lull us with a placid piano intro, shades of Bohren Und Der Club Of Gore... but soon enough the bass and distortion attack is back in force. Punishing, but such sweet punishment.
With the arrival of Combat Astronomy's fourth album, welcome once again to that unlikely alternate universe inhabited by us at Aquarius Records (and a few others too, like you?), where this intense instrumental outfit is as HUGE as their sonic footprint, their ultra-heavy hybrid of avant garde jazz and post metal industrial doom resounding planetwide in giant concert halls... if 21st century classical chamber deathjazz sludge were the next big thing, they'd be the biggest.
Whereas, heck, in real life, we don't even know if they tour, probably not, since some of the group live in England, with another crucial band member based here in the USA. When they get together (however they do it) it must be a cathartic experience for everyone involved. As they say themselves about this album, it's "LOUD BASS LOUD HORNS LOUD DRUMS MASSIVE RIFFS" all the way. Well, with some quasi-ambient interludes, and bits of melody amidst the mayhem. But for the most part, thick drone, rumbling bass, punishing programmed rhythms, screaming horn blurt. It's kinda like if Godflesh were to record an album for Tzadik, armed with an arsenal of horns and woodwinds. Combat Astronomy use and abuse a variety of saxophones and clarinets, various flutes, bassoon, bass recorder, reindeer horn (?), along with fretless 5 string bass, organ, electronics, zither, tambourine...
On Flak Planet, the formula has been perfected. The disc's opening track "The Stone Tape", is both cinematic and assaultive, it's jazz, but for the squelching sub bass and trudging jackboot rhythms. As the disc spins, there's outbursts of maniacal piano, jarring prog complexities, stretches of exotic atmospheric drone, and more monolithic thud.
Brutal yet beautiful, as we've said before, for fans of 16-17 (natch) as well as, we'd bet, possibly PIVIXKI, Master Musicians of Bukkake, Ehnahre, and assorted RIO ensembles.
A fine follow-up to 2011's Flak Planet, here's another hectic, headspinning batch of blat, bash, and blast from this unusual unit, avant-industrial-prog-jazz-doom titans Combat Astronomy, the collaborative project of American James Huggett (fretless 5-string bass, guitar programming, production, etc.) and the UK's Martin Archer (horns, organ, electronics). Archer also brings in the Juxtavoices choir for the disc's 13+ minute finale "Cave War", Juxtavoices being the vocal ensemble we last heard on the recent Record Of The Week outing by Archer's incredible Orchestra Of The Upper Atmosphere.
As any Combat Astronomy aficionado expects, 'tis total, tumbling heavy jazz-grind, the burble of Archer's clarinet or saxophones surfacing amidst the thick low-end rumble of Huggett's bass and jackbooted machine rhythms. Where else are you gonna get this fix? You'd have to go back to John Zorn's Painkiller or England's mighty God back in the '90s to hear something like this. Keeping it interesting, the iron fist of Combat Astronomy slips on the velvet glove, sometimes, with occasional snatches of sinister but blissful ambient drone or third-stream jazz or buried melody battling the propulsive chaotic crush of the riff/rhythm onslaught. The pounding power, freakout energy, and sometimes ceremonial-sounding beauty of these ten tracks have us fully entranced. Seeing 'em live (do they ever even play live??) would be amazing.
Never thought about this before, but we hope that the name Combat Astronomy doesn't mean that they're opposed to the science of astronomy, as in "fight against astronomy". Combat astrology, ok, but astronomy? Or maybe, it's a type of astronomy, the kind used in combat, like if you're a starfighter pilot or something. Anyway, not important, nevermind. What is important is that this band shouldn't be as under-the-radar as they are, 'cause they're pretty incredible.
A grinding, rumbling distorto sub-bass death march with jackhammering machine beats... sounds kinda Godfleshy at first... but then, what's this? Heavy-duty blasts of saxophone, flute and bassoon?? Yes indeed, Combat Astronomy combine industrial metal with freaked out free jazz and prog, making for maybe the heaviest "jazz" record since Switzerland's under-exposed and now defunct 16-17 assaulted our ears with Gyatso back in '94. Yet there's also interludes of calm -- doomy passages of ambient moodiess with droning, multitracked reeds. And then it's back to the grind. The rhythms are punishingly mechanical, but also interestingly off-kilter. The weird timing adds to the sense of unease that's also built up by the squonky, skronky sax bleating and ominious electronics... Who's responsible for this brutal, beautiful madness? Well, Combat Astronomy's all-instrumental album The Dematerialized Passenger is a trans-Atlantic collaboration, built upon the foundation of the distorted bass, guitar and programmed beats of one Jamie Hugget from Minnesota USA, in collusion/collision with the saxes, clarinet, violin and effects of Sheffield UK's Martin Archer. Remember that Masayo Asahara cd we reviewed a while back? Saint Agnes Fountain, the supposed long-lost '70s Japanese minimalist drone-prog album that was actually the work of a current-day British musician? He's *that* guy. Two of Archer's pals join in on flute and bassoon as well. The results are likely to alienate all but the most adventureous jazz, metal, and prog fans...which is why we figured a lot of AQ customers might like it! Could certainly be a good one for fans of Godflesh, God, 16-17, Aufgehoben, Last Exit, Zdrastvootie, and other far out outfits on the extremes of industrial, prog and/or improv.
On this, the 6th album from this unique transcontinental sludge/jazz/prog/improv unit, Combat Astronomy seriously bring the noise by providing not one but two whole discs of their extreme sonics, their most ambitious onslaught yet - part John Zorn style skronk, part industrial beatdown, part ambient dronology, part Magmoid symphonics, always reminding us of a certain strain of artists in the early '90s like 16-17, Painkiller, and God, all longtime faves of ours, as Combat Astronomy are now, too!
Disc one takes advantage of the potential to sprawl out in epic fashion that a double disc set affords, offering four pieces, all of 'em long ones, starting with the 17 minute "Tenser Quadrant", that opens with a stuttering, satisfyingly-distorted bass solo, soon joined by martial drumming, horns, and keyboard pulsations. It's a good intro to Combat Astronomy's incredible sound if you haven't heard 'em before: a powerful concoction of super thick heavy bass tones, rubbery rhythms, and suspenseful coloration from the horn section. By 'horn section' we mean Sheffield, UK's Martin Archer (known also to aQ customers also for his Orchestra Of The Upper Atmosphere project), who plays all the trumpets, saxophones, and clarinets on here, along with organ, electric piano, mellotron, glockenspiel, tuning forks, "snorks" (?), and more... Also on board, of course, is the other half of the usual Combat Astronomy collaboration, Minnesota-based James Huggett (5 string fretless and fretted basses, guitar, drum programming). Additionally for this release, drummer Peter Fairclough is employed as well, along with vocalists Julie Archer and Kelli Denoyer on selected tracks - but note, they are credited not with vocals but with 'voices', suggesting a more experimental, textural, abstract role.
Ok, back to our report on the first disc: Track two, "Unity Weapon", is even longer at over 21 minutes, and sounds like a BIG ensemble in full flight, a bunch of mekanik kommandos marching into an orchestral fray, lots going on, getting mesmeric in its repetition and layering, and then entering into a dense, atmospheric dream-space once a little past the half-way mark. The many moods of Combat Astronomy!
The intense skronk, distortion, and staggered rhythms then come roaring back on the nine minute title track, while disc closer "Hypnogeous" is a 14 minute descent into dark ambient drone, haunting and heavy, winding up in more-or-less power electronics territory.
If disc one wasn't devastating enough, there's another eight tracks in store on disc two. The second track, "SuperFestival", might be the most 'pop' thing we've ever heard from CA, while a lot of the others on this disc could vie for the most intense and speed-driven. Many moods, again. But in interest of not making the review quite as epic as the album, we'll skip the detailed rundown on all of 'em and let you investigate for yourself - which we recommend you do!!
Frickin' gorgeous! This hitherto unknown to us Sicilian duo (Delfo Catania on guitars, sitar, flute, tapes, homemade instruments, percussion, etc. + Carlo Matanza on Moog, organ, theremin, and suchlike synths) delivers a sparkling slab of late-night, outer-spheres, electro-acoustic dronepsych improv. Good listening with the lights off, eyes closed, headphones on, suitably relaxed, ready for the "astral voyage" that this indeed simulates and/or stimulates. The ceremony begins with reverbed tones in placid alternation, heralding a gentle, crickety/treefroggy drone bedecked with ringing pulsations, swirling electronics, pretty ping ping pings and hummmmmummmummm... It's all quite organic and lovely, sort of like Jewelled Antler meets Popol Vuh, all new weirded out. An abstract ritual of chiming and tinkling opens track two, which also is graced with wordless female vocals, moaning on high, the contribution of guest Shirin Demma. Echoing piano chords also punctuate this haunted voidscape... strings zing, as things drift sweetly and serene but with an undercurrent of ominousness. On track three, Comet III introduce some non-sucky saxophone exhalations (courtesy of another guest, Caetano Firlito), bringing more smokey, somnolent, and melodious atmosphere, steering our astral voyage into the dreamlands of track four's thicker haze of slo-mo synthesizer spinning out wobbly drones. And then finally, on the album's 15 minute title track, a suspenseful electronic rhythm is begun, amidst bells and bloops and a bed of soothing synth that sometimes rears up into a denser, spookier sizzle. This one's a bit like a spaced-out John Carpenter soundtrack, as heard (hallucinated?) through the walls of a New Age isolation tank... towards the end some simple folky guitar meander adds to the mesmerizing mood. An altogether satisfying voyage, is Comet III's debut trip though our headspace, a perfectly mysterious and evocative tribute to its kosmiche krautrock forebears for sure...
A long while back we had a super limited lp featuring a freaked out psychedelic team up between Bay Area psych rock heroes Comets On Fire, and Ohio drone noise outfit Burning Star Core. While that lp is loooong gone, the label just discovered a box containing the last 30 cd-r's of this disc, originally sold on tour only, which features completely differently music than the lp, although recorded during the same sessions. So if you missed out on the lp, this cd-r should do you right, and if you got the lp and loved it, then this here is like a perfect part two. Another massive slab of freaked out lo-fi psych-sludge. Most definitely NOISY, and quite certainly LO-FI. Blown out, ultra reverbed, psychedelic noise. There may indeed be actual songs, but they are struggling constantly to stay afloat, pummelled by wave after wave of mayhemic skree and crumbly distortion, bottomless pit reverb and fuzz Fuzz FUZZ! Wow. We're pretty sure the sessions that yielded these sound (captured on the out of print lp and this here cd-r) were purely a studio concoction, but the thought of actually experiencing this stuff live had us excitedly donning protective eyewear, thick soled boots, fire retardant clothing, industrial strength earplugs and strapping on our rock and roll hardhats!
ALREADY OUT OF PRINT! We have 30 copies, and once those are gone, it's gone for good...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Tinkering effects and cartoony samples join a traditional jazz improv set which would easily be at home on Zorn's Tzadik. Features fabulous Japanese guitar player Uchihashi Kazuhisa (Altered States, Ground Zero).
The latest from this beloved Bay Area combo comes in the form of this super limited, and extravagantly packaged cassette on the Black Horizons, the epic packaging perfectly reflecting the epic sounds within. It begins with a slow building sonic brood, that immediately conjures Arvo Part, the rich thrum of ominous strings, the swirling voices woven into some sort of haunting chorale, a chorale that is quickly subsumed by a cloud of fierce psychedelic guitar buzz and brittle metallic clatter, all blurred into a burnished squall of warm dreamnoise density, before gradually decaying to a sea of black cloud shimmer. The second track, "Mound", begins with some distorted buzz, sounding almost metallic, stretching out into a mesmeric sprawl of lush, black buzz, sculpted into a series of swells, almost like a way more dynamic SUNNO))), but soon the vocals swoop in, hovering above those dense, crumbling, distorted bursts of black noise buzz, but tempered by spectral voices, and distant hovering drones, soon laced with streaks of feedback, and melodic shards of high end howl, still locked into that mesmerizing ebb and flow, finally disappearing in a cloud of crumbling sonic decay.
The sound grows even more ghostly, CEKE unfurling a spectral sprawl of ethereal ghostlike voices, and the soft shimmer of slowly bowed strings, all smeared into soft billowy swirls, the vibe sort of classical, like an abstract chamber music, performed in some lost glade, in a dark forest, lit only by firelight, a mysterious musical ritual, timeless and otherworldly. Finally, Earth Liver concludes with "Child", beginning with some echo drenched steel string guitar, hushed reverbed vocals, a dark apocalyptic blackened folk, minimal and murky, a funereal lament drifting and droning, before unexpectedly exploding into some seriously blown out distorted doom, the guitars thick and buzzing, the drums a caveman pound, the sound though epic and brooding, the vibe more Godspeed or Mogwai, than doom proper, and before you know it, they settle right back into that folky drift, and the song continues to swing wildly, from hushed and haunting, to dense and explosive, building to a soaring climax, rife with wild streaks of psychedelic guitar, the song fading out, leaving JUST that guitar to leave a shadowy streak of high end shimmer...
The tape also includes Common Eider's Amnesia, a super limited one sided picture disc, which we described thusly:
Amnesia patiently opens with deep stretches of weeping violin, quiet vocal haze creeps into the murky horizon, subtle cymbal splashes accent the deeply ambient swells and the piece grows into a huge orchestral bellow. A single composition that breathes and changes like a sweeping ocean tide, a wash of crystalline tones wavering from the forest floor, long-form melodies echoing from the evening sky, the strings, vocals and minimal percussion all melting together into a gloriously kaleidoscopic fever dream!
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!!! And the packaging, WOW. The tape label silver metallic, the J-card, blue metallic ink on silvery metallic paper, inside a fold out accordion-like insert of super striking full color images, the tape housed in a printed cloth bag held shut with a drawstring, which also contains a screen printed cloth patch!
Hot on the heels of their stellar Root Strata release Worn, SF's Common Eider, King Eider are back with a brand new, VERY limited, splendidly dark dose of somber, atmospheric folk. After being so instantly won over by Worn, we couldn't wait to hear what kind of grim beauty lay behind this gorgeous one-sided 12" picture-disc.
Amnesia patiently opens with deep stretches of weeping violin, quiet vocal haze creeps into the murky horizon, subtle cymbal splashes accent the deeply ambient swells and the piece grows into a huge orchestral bellow. A single composition that breathes and changes like a sweeping ocean tide, a wash of crystalline tones wavering from the forest floor, long-form melodies echoing from the evening sky, the strings, vocals and minimal percussion all melting together into a gloriously kaleidoscopic fever dream! So gorgeous!
Packaged in a cool heavy PVC silk screened sleeve, the record pressed on white vinyl, the B side also silkscreened, super striking looking, and criminally LIMITED TO JUST 100 COPIES, these will be gone in no time, so be quick!
Originally released as an extravagantly packaged cassette via local label Black Horizons, the latest from this beloved Bay Area combo is now available on cd, also presented in a super swank package (more on that below), and like the cassette, the gorgeous packaging perfectly reflecting the epic sounds within.
It begins with a slow building sonic brood, that immediately conjures Arvo Part, the rich thrum of ominous strings, the swirling voices woven into some sort of haunting chorale, a chorale that is quickly subsumed by a cloud of fierce psychedelic guitar buzz and brittle metallic clatter, all blurred into a burnished squall of warm dreamnoise density, before gradually decaying to a sea of black cloud shimmer. The second track, "Mound", begins with some distorted buzz, sounding almost metallic, stretching out into a mesmeric sprawl of lush, black buzz, sculpted into a series of swells, almost like a way more dynamic SUNNO))), but soon the vocals swoop in, hovering above those dense, crumbling, distorted bursts of black noise buzz, but tempered by spectral voices, and distant hovering drones, soon laced with streaks of feedback, and melodic shards of high end howl, still locked into that mesmerizing ebb and flow, finally disappearing in a cloud of crumbling sonic decay.
The sound grows even more ghostly, CEKE unfurling a spectral sprawl of ethereal ghostlike voices, and the soft shimmer of slowly bowed strings, all smeared into soft billowy swirls, the vibe sort of classical, like an abstract chamber music, performed in some lost glade, in a dark forest, lit only by firelight, a mysterious musical ritual, timeless and otherworldly. Finally, Earth Liver concludes with "Child", beginning with some echo drenched steel string guitar, hushed reverbed vocals, a dark apocalyptic blackened folk, minimal and murky, a funereal lament drifting and droning, before unexpectedly exploding into some seriously blown out distorted doom, the guitars thick and buzzing, the drums a caveman pound, the sound though epic and brooding, the vibe more Godspeed or Mogwai, than doom proper, and before you know it, they settle right back into that folky drift, and the song continues to swing wildly, from hushed and haunting, to dense and explosive, building to a soaring climax, rife with wild streaks of psychedelic guitar, the song fading out, leaving JUST that guitar to leave a shadowy streak of high end shimmer...
The tape also includes Common Eider's Amnesia, a super limited one sided picture disc, which we described thusly:
Amnesia patiently opens with deep stretches of weeping violin, quiet vocal haze creeps into the murky horizon, subtle cymbal splashes accent the deeply ambient swells and the piece grows into a huge orchestral bellow. A single composition that breathes and changes like a sweeping ocean tide, a wash of crystalline tones wavering from the forest floor, long-form melodies echoing from the evening sky, the strings, vocals and minimal percussion all melting together into a gloriously kaleidoscopic fever dream!
LIMITED TO 150 COPIES!!! And the packaging, again, WOW. A hand screened multi-panel gatefold mini cardstock sleeve, the text printed in gold metallic ink, each disc hand painted with the group's sigil, also in metallic gold ink.
Record number two from the peculiarly monickered Common Eider, King Eider, the one man project of Mr. Rob Fisk, formerly of Deerhoof, currently of Badgerlore, and much like the first disc, Figs, Wasps And Monotremes, is another haunting missive of long drawn out drones, and minimal folk mesmer.
The intro is a smoldering shimmer of scraped strings, wavery falsetto vocals, and all manner of overtones and harmonics, mysterious and hypnotic, we would have been quite happy if it had gone on just like that for the record's entire 32+ minutes, but the record soon shifts to something more songy (only slightly though), deep distant swells, dense soft drones and more ethereal falsetto vocals, all drift over insistently sawed strings, the string unfurling an almost looped sounding rhythmic melody. The record drifts lazily after that from spare melancholic reverb drenched sun dappled soft folk, all shimmery and washed out, to still more keening high end drones, looooong tones allowed to howl and buzz and slowly decay before being overtaken by still more growling, scraped strings, sounding almost like a 20th century string quartet slowed down to no beats per minute, to fractured free folk, steel string buzz, angular abstract riffage wrapped in haunting gauzy lo-fi hum, to super intense, almost Sunroof! worthy sheets of high end ur-drone, the notes crumbling and distorted and gorgeously blown out, and back to more introspective folky flutter.
A gorgeous sprawling, abstract record, the listener drifting dreamily from song to song, sound to sound, sinking ever deeper, falling in slow motion, Common Eider's blurred soundscapes moving past, like a film slowed way down, so each frame flickers gently before slipping away, allowing another to take its place. Absolutely lovely.
Gorgeous packaging too, as with all Root Strata releases, a three panel white cardstock sleeve, printed in silver ink, adorned with images of fruits and branches and a platypus!
Latest bit of abstract beauty from Mr. Rob Fisk, formerly of Deerhoof, now of Badgerlore, a gorgeous slow burning expanse of soft and shimmery minor key Appalachian guitar, buzzing bowed viola, and reverb drenched vocals. Each track is a slow build, a musical new dawn, the guitar sprawled out like dew on grass, the vocals like a gauzy fog hugging the ground, a tranquil blissful drift, the viola offering bits of blurred grit and melody, so so gorgeous. Imagine some impossible blend of Grouper, Henry Flynt and Jack Rose. The surprise here, is the occasional blast of jagged super distorted guitar. Not sure how many folks remember the amazing Slap Happy Humphrey record, a long out of print Japanese disc featuring Jojo from Hiokaidan, one of the Angels In Heavy Syrup and one of the Subvert Blaze guys, long soft swirls of lilting dreamy folk occasionally interrupted by huge crashing psychnoise guitar. Bits of this disc definitely remind us of a sort of modern freakfolk version of that disc, although the psychnoise intrusions here are much less frequent, and even at their noisiest offer up some gorgeous keening melodies.
Barring the bits of coruscating heart-of-the-sun guitar freakouts, most of this disc is delicate and gentle, the vocals indistinct and plaintive, wrapped in soft billows of reverb, the guitar spare and lovely, the viola adding just the right bit of raga like drone... Fans of any of the above mentioned bands will love this for sure. And anyone into the current crop of dreamfolk would do well to check this out as well.
GORGEOUS packaging. A thick white textured paper booklet printed with silver metallic ink, sewn together, the cd in a clear plastic sleeve, the artwork featuring images of ducks and instructions on how to build a cabin (of course), all held together by an extra wide Japanese style obi. Wow.
It's finally here, the years in the works Sense Of Place, an ambitious audio/visual document that captures San Francisco drone/ambient/folk band Common Eider, King Eider's quest to build a cabin in the wilds of Alaska. It's an incredible package including both a book and a dvd, each offering up images of the process, from the flight up, the journey to the site, to the actual construction, as well as the gorgeous landscape surrounding the cabin (or cabin to be). The dvd and the cd both contain part of the music, both of which are meant to be played simultaneously, Zaireeka style, the fusion of the two resulting in a lush soundscape of layered organ drones and haunting choral harmonies, the music on its own is moving and mysterious, but when coupled with the visuals, it's that much more powerful.
The dvd is a gorgeously impressionistic visual travelogue of the process, the first image is the plane soaring over the clouds, then the snowed-in city, the trip to the site through epic expanses of snow, the actual building of the cabin, from the ground up, the whole thing peppered with lots of stunning shots of the surrounding landscape, the snow that goes on for miles, gorgeous pink tinged skies, distant mountains and dense almost black forests, eventually, the shots are through the windows of the cabin, the trees bowing in the cold wind outside, the clouds drifting across stunningly blue skies, eventually, there's one more survey of the pristine landscape surrounding the cabin, animal tracks, frozen lakes, the setting sun, trees still green, gathering storms in the distance, and finally, the cabin recedes into the distance, and we're back on the plane once again, heading home.
The accompanying music is the perfect soundtrack, spare and spacious, the distant drone a constant underpinning, the vocals drifting in and out, we were worried at first about matching up the two discs, but realized it almost doesn't matter, we tried multiple mixes, and it always sounded fantastic, wheezy chordal whirs, the vocals layered and wreathed in echo and reverb, a mysterious chorale that instead of building and then fading out, remains somewhat constant, with different voices receding and resurfacing, each part of the music slipping easily from just organ, to organ and voices, making for a constantly shifting landscape of muted melody and vocal texture, the vibe is sort of Grouper-ish, but a bit more medieval, a bit more arcane sounding, as if it were in fact some ancient ritual, reenacted for the building of this structure, to imbue it with the spirit of the ancients. The music is dark, but infused with a mysterious warmth, the perfect analogue really for the whole process/project.
The cd and the dvd are both housed in stickered clear plastic inner sleeve, which itself is then housed in a super elaborate printed origami style fold out poster, sealed with a sticker. All that's accompanied by a trade-sized, full color, 56 page perfect bound softcover book, featuring photos from the expedition, some as mundane as a sign at the local grocery store, others stunning shots of the terrain, the roaring fire in the cabin stove, empty Pabst Blue Ribbon cans in a snow drift, a black banana, cut firewood, the plane, tracks in the snow, some obvious, others abstract, all gorgeous. Includes minimal liner notes, including a poem by Ben Chasny of Six Organs Of Admittance. And on top of that, the package also includes a silkscreened patch, featuring the Common Eider sigil.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES!! And only available at aQuarius!!!
Last year, we helped our pals in Common Eider, King Eider out an amazing, ambitious audio/visual document, a book + dvd + cd (+ patch) set that captured the San Francisco drone/ambient/folk band's quest to build a cabin in the wilds of Alaska. Both the book and the dvd offered up images of the process, from the flight up, the journey to the site, to the actual construction, as well as the gorgeous landscape surrounding the cabin (or cabin to be).
But now those of you who found the full $35 set with the book a bit too spendy, and really only wanted the cd and dvd (and patch), we've got a cheaper version available, the same thing but minus the book.
The dvd and the cd both contain part of the music, both of which are meant to be played simultaneously, Zaireeka style, the fusion of the two resulting in a lush soundscape of layered organ drones and haunting choral harmonies, the music on its own is moving and mysterious, but when coupled with the visuals, it's that much more powerful.
The dvd is a gorgeously impressionistic visual travelogue of the process, the first image is the plane soaring over the clouds, then the snowed-in city, the trip to the site through epic expanses of snow, the actual building of the cabin, from the ground up, the whole thing peppered with lots of stunning shots of the surrounding landscape, the snow that goes on for miles, gorgeous pink tinged skies, distant mountains and dense almost black forests, eventually, the shots are through the windows of the cabin, the trees bowing in the cold wind outside, the clouds drifting across stunningly blue skies, eventually, there's one more survey of the pristine landscape surrounding the cabin, animal tracks, frozen lakes, the setting sun, trees still green, gathering storms in the distance, and finally, the cabin recedes into the distance, and we're back on the plane once again, heading home.
The accompanying music is the perfect soundtrack, spare and spacious, the distant drone a constant underpinning, the vocals drifting in and out, we were worried at first about matching up the two discs, but realized it almost doesn't matter, we tried multiple mixes, and it always sounded fantastic, wheezy chordal whirs, the vocals layered and wreathed in echo and reverb, a mysterious chorale that instead of building and then fading out, remains somewhat constant, with different voices receding and resurfacing, each part of the music slipping easily from just organ, to organ and voices, making for a constantly shifting landscape of muted melody and vocal texture, the vibe is sort of Grouper-ish, but a bit more medieval, a bit more arcane sounding, as if it were in fact some ancient ritual, reenacted for the building of this structure, to imbue it with the spirit of the ancients. The music is dark, but infused with a mysterious warmth, the perfect analogue really for the whole process/project.
The cd and the dvd are both housed in stickered clear plastic inner sleeve, which itself is then housed in a super elaborate printed origami style fold out poster, sealed with a sticker.
Please note still have the book version too, though, if you're interested. Also, anyone planning on attending this year's Stella Natura festival, CEKE will be playing - with our own Andee on drums!!
We got a very small handful of these, the last copies in fact, released as an exclusive for the Stella Natura festival, which took place a few weeks back in the woods up near Lake Tahoe, and featured a crazy collection of bands performing on stages set up in the forest. Some of the performers included Esoteric, Stargazer, Sutekh Hexen, Saturnalia Temple, Ash Borer, Hell, Aldebaran, Dispirit, Hexvessel, Kinit Her, Loss, Knelt Rote and a bunch more.
This document of local experimental ambient doom-drone outfit Common Eider (which now boasts our very own Andee on drums), features four lengthy tracks, and documents CEKE's shift into darker realms, featuring Andy Way from Sutekh Hexen on vocals, CEKE's usual haunting arrangements of ritualistic chorales, and swoonsome viola drones, are augmented by harsh, whispered vokills, that occasionally erupt into near demonic shrieks.
The opener, "Uksur" is a dark ritualistic incantation, that fuses black ambience to Arvo Part like sweeping epic-ry, infusing that hybrid with a blackened malevolence, the whole thing blurred into a darkly dreamy, ashen sonic sprawl. "As The Soil Rises Up Past Our Bodies" continues the descent into darkness, layered vocals drift atop a bed of tape hiss and distant rumbles, meditative and liturgical, a harrowing and haunting soundscape that evokes barren wastelands, crumbling cathedrals and black skies casting entire civilizations in shadow, the vocals slipping into a higher register for the final movement, adding a dramatic pathos to the proceedings. Also included is an excerpt of the fantastic "Sense Of Place", which was released via aQ as a super deluxe book/cd/dvd combo (later as a stripped down bookless version), chronicling the building of a cabin in Alaska, the music split into two parts meant to be played simultaneously. And finally there's "Caribou People", which is anchored by a dreamy, softly reverbed guitar loops, and gradually blossoms into a beautifully brooding dirge, laced with clouds of buzz drenched noise guitar, woozy Spacemen 3 like basslines, and minimal percussion, all whipped up into a wildly psychedelic squall, that fades into a hazy druggy drift. Fantastic.
And, fantastic packaging - the tape is housed in a multi panel, pocketed mini sleeve, hand silkscreened, bundled with a charred block of wood, the wood silkscreened with the CEKE sigil, the tape, the sleeve, and the wood, wrapped in a silkscreened oversized slipcover, held shut with a printed sticker. SUPER LIMITED. Last copies ever. So act fast if you want one... Mailorder folks, be aware that 'cause of the size and weight of the charred wood block, this will count as more than one item (which will probably only matter if it's all you were to order), so media mail or UPS will be your best domestic shipping options.
Just as Parson Sound morphed into International Harvester and brought forth a same-but-different sense of a sprawled Swedish psychedelia, so the Community Of Light emerges from the kosmische drone continuum that produced the equally mysterious and poetic smears of the Ingenting Kollektiva. The concept rich Kollektiva arose from the cultural year zero of 1969, when a considerable amount of influential records on the Kollektiva's agenda were published. Holger Czukay, Amon Duul, Ornette Coleman, Pentangle, King Crimson, and Alan Silva were amongst those in this pantheon of aesthetic greats; but so too were the concepts of Ingmar Bergman and his existentially empty gaps of narrative silence and deliberate inactivity. Aesthetically, this outfit broadcast emotionally rich ambient swathes of echo across droning pools of acoustic instrumentation swollen through delay and reverb. Community Of Light eschews the overt cultural references to one far more occult and gnostic, announcing themselves "as pursuers of the Light, which is often called Darkness, and a sound we call silence (with a we called night vision)." Such a proclamation could have been spoken by Robert DeGrimston of the Process Church or by the heretical Valentinian monk who might have penned the inscrutable Gospel Of Truth or even by the Great Beast himself, Aleister Crowley.
Musically, the Community Of Light follows in what the Kollektiva had created, although this new iteration has given considerable heft to the low end of things and considerable witchiness to the wordless vocal incantations. Wisps of melody solemnly ring from the guitars above the rumbling underbelly to Night Vision's five tracks with those eerie vocals floating throughout as some sort of disembodied ectoplasm. Enveloping with shadow, but never threatening, Community Of Light drifts along the droning seas of Troum, Stars Of The Lid, and those rare instrumental numbers from Current 93.
To commemorate the recent 25th anniversary Current 93 performances in London, a super limited number of these commemorative 7"s were pressed up (only 300 copies!), featuring exclusive tracks from three of the bands that performed with C93, psych drone combo Rameses III, psychedelic folk legend Simon Finn, and most excitingly, legendary seventies acid folk outfit, the mighty Comus!!
The Comus track might be what gets folks most excited, and rightfully so, a recording of the group performing "Diana" on the Melloboat, in Sweden, in 2008, their first show together after nearly 40 years!!! We tried to watch clips on YouTube, but the crowd was so amped, and howling and clapping and singing along, you could barely hear the band. Thankfully this recording is pristine, and the band sound incredible, even more woozy and carnivalesque and maniacal than they did back in the day, the player practically perfect, the vocals incredible for the many decades that have passed, definitely makes us wish we had flown over.
Rameses III contributes a gorgeous thick swath of densely layered dronemusic, very minimal, softly pulsing, rife with swirling overtones, hypnotic and raga like, really super nice.
And finally, Simon Finn unfurls some dark brooding psychedelic folk, lovely and haunting male / female vocal harmonies, over warm soft melodic swells, the sound stripped down, the arrangement minimal, the structure skeletal, but the overall feel still darkly lush and lovely.
A pretty fantastic 3 way split, we can only imagine how great the shows must have been. A gorgeous sonic artifact too, sturdy full color cover, pressed on thick colored vinyl, and again limited to only 300 copies!
