All right, now you can stop worrying -- we didn't forget about it, here's number 9 in the Jewelled Antler Library series of 3" cdrs. It's a disc from SF's Muons, not a Jewelled Antler band per se, but in those guys' orbit. There's five songs here, just under twenty minutes of fragile, psychedelic folk recorded live, where they really shine. Inspired by traditional British folk music, but made soooo minimal and spacey that they've been called the "Bernhard Gunter of space-folk", the Muons make forlorn lullabys for adults. For this performance, the Muons were just the duo of Greg Bianchini and Rickey Reneau. Greg, who has played with Jewelled Antler acts Franciscan Hobbies, Thuja and Blithe Sons, is an gifted instrument maker, and on this recording plays a home-built 14-string electric lute as well as sings. Rickey plays an electric dulcimer, probably also built by Greg. Greg's languid strumming and melancholic vocals seem to drift out of the smoke and mist of another era, and could be from a lost UK psych-folk comp, although this is so slow and sad and desolate that no hippy could have made it -- they'd be too bummed out. We're also reminded of some Galaxie 500, or old NZ stuff like the Chills. Certainly this is a bit different than much else in the Library series -- it's got to be the most 'composed' set of songs found on any of these 3" discs. But we think JA fans will like it, a lot. It has a 'flowers in the rain' vibe that's just lovely. And the loveliness extends to the paintings Greg did for the 3" cover. Very nice.
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Local group notable for their inspired use of electric dulcimer and lute alongside the drums, guitar and tambourine. The Muons have been making music for years already, and it's nice to finally have a record to listen to. The tone is of warmth and yearning with an underlayer of sweetly droning psych guitar, chiming tambourine, and delicately murmured vocals. Fans of Belle and Sebastian and depressed folk troubadours of earlier eras such as The Incredible String Band will enjoy this.
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Fog Hag is a brilliant slab of psychedelic pop music from Bronze frontman Rob Spector. Anyone who has seen Bronze's live performances over the last few years knows that they are one of the most hypnotic and engaging live acts in the Bay Area. They combine mastery of minimal instrumentation and dance beats with a little bit of costuming and a sense of humor. Their debut full length comes out this August on RVNG. Except for maybe the costumes, these elements are all present on Muscle Drum's Fog Hag, which sometimes sounds like the Beach Boys via Thee Oh Sees and sometimes uncannily conjures Crispin Glover via Barnes and Barnes. The album opens with a few tracks that feature tons of jangly guitar and muted synths riding around minimal or no percussion, vocal harmonies and reverb washes weaving the songs together deftly. Spector's vocal delivery is consistent in its open earnestness, and is never pretentious or showy. Halfway through the first side, just as "St. Christopher" shows off the record's synthier elements and "Sashay" introduces a drum machine, you might notice that there's something a bit weird about these songs, something OFF. Once you get to "Public Transportation", your suspicions are confirmed: never has the failed quest for a burrito been so hilariously combined with the phrase "tight-wads". This is not a "novelty" record or a "comedy" record, and never tries to be funny. That's why it succeeds. The B side contains more well-crafted psychedelic jangle-pop, a track that starts off sounding almost like death metal, and lots of gratuitous echoplex usage. The songs are sequenced well, however, so that the weirder ones flow out of and into the rest of the record without the overall mood being sacrificed or sounding unbalanced. Much like Type records has been doing lately, this first LP on the San Francisco based Break Up label comes with a CD of a completely different record ("The Early Drum Gets the Snare" also by Muscle Drum, though Fog Hag is the stronger of the two). Limited to 500 copies, do not miss out on this record. Be sure to play it at 45 and not 33 1/3 or you might have a completely different experience!
Oh boy! A DVD filmed at San Francisco's famed Musee Mechanique, that fantastic collection of turn of the century penny arcade machines!! Cool. We figure that many of our customers who've bought the cds of music from the Musee that we sell (three volumes so far, you'll find 'em elsewhere on our site) haven't actually had the chance to visit the place themselves, so this is perfect. And if you HAVE been to the Musee -- especially the old Cliff House location -- you'll want this for the memories. And it'll make you want to head on down there soon enough again to visit in person, so it's double the nostagia trip (for the early 1900's, and for the last time you were there).
For those who haven't even heard of the place, basically the Musee Mechanique, now located on Pier 45 down at Fisherman's Wharf, is filled with coin-operated mechanical amusements ranging from music boxes and player-piano type contraptions (several with an orchestra's worth of sounds) to various games of skill and chance to quaint "peep shows" to fortune tellers to animated dioramas (what are called "working models") to Musee mascot Laughing Sal... all are to be found on this DVD, filmed in action, as collector/curator Edward Zelinsky takes viewers on a guided tour of the Musee's many attractions, even stopping to try his hand at the "Love Tester". Sometimes he talks about when/where/how he ended up acquiring the machine he's showing off, but just as often he just drops the quarter in and gives a "hey, wow, gee whiz" reaction just like a kid.
The documentary has its cheesy (but charming) moments -- someone gets carried away with video effects a few times, for instance -- but we're mighty pleased with it overall. It's very cool to get a glimpse at the inner workings of both the Musee and its machines. Maybe our favorite thing about this DVD is the way the camera really gets up close and personal with the "working models", taking the viewer into the scene (fire house, farm, graveyard, and our favorite, the opium den!!) in a way that you can't really experience even in person. Especially with that creepy opium den diorama, we were reminded of a Brothers Quay film or Tool video...
Ed Zelinsky passed away in 2004 (his tour was filmed when the Musee was still at the Cliff house) but his collection is in the capable hands of his son Daniel, who had been running the Musee and fixing the machines for many years already, and appears in several of the "extras" included. Total running time 68:45.
Long, long ago we stocked an LP of recordings from San Francisco's own Cliff House-based Musee Mechanique. Sadly this album went out of print a few years back, leaving many sad customers who'd found out about it too late. Well weep no longer, as AQ now has an all new disc (the first of several, we're told) of recordings made of the machines at the museum.
The Musee Mechanique, for those who've never been, is a hands-on museum of early penny arcade machines (some over a century old) kept in their original working order for the public's enjoyment by the determined work of curator Edward Galland Zelinsky. Every time we have visitors from out of town, we take' em here. Stereoscopic peep shows, moralising fortune tellers, old baseball game machines, nickelodeons, prisoner art made out of toothpicks, music boxes, player pianos, "test your strength" challenges, animated dioramas, and more are constantly kept in tune -- it's both historic and entertaining. (Including everyone's favorite -- Laughing Sal, a larger than life size doll who just laughs and laughs and laughs. Wonderful.) The 27 tracks found here are all new recordings of the various machines (mostly player pianos playing assorted rags), captured after museum hours, so it's free of unwanted tourist chatter (although they nicely left the sounds of the coins falling into the slot as lead ins to each track.)
The Musee Mecanique at San Francisco's historic Cliff House is one of our favorite things in the whole city. We *always* take visitors from out of town there, and they always love it. The Musee is a collection of antique coin-operated arcade machines, lovingly restored and cared for, including animated dioramas ("The Opium Den" is a favorite), crank-operated racing games, mechanical strength-testing devices, boxing and baseball games, fortune tellers, and many automated musical instruments (player pianos, music boxes, and the like), which fill the place with great old ragtime tunes. They've been recording the machines (complete with the sound of coins dropping in to start 'em) and have plans to release a whole series of cds documenting this delightful old-timey music. Volume One came out last year (and we sold quite a few), and now we've got Volume Two! Yay! These 27 tracks are similar to the stuff on the first volume, perhaps "more bouncy" though. And the famous Laughing Sal (the giant, manaically whooping automaton who dominates the entrance to the Musee) makes another appearance, closing out the disc with one of her always-disturbing outbursts of hilarity... A nice way to keep some of the spirit of the Musee Mecanique in your home, and to help support their preservation endeavors!
Everyone here at Aquarius was SO happy and relieved when the Musee Mechanique -- that wonderful place full of antique penny-aracade machines that's one of our favorite San Francisco cultural/fun spots -- found a new home at Fisherman's Wharf. Previously it had been a highlight to a trip out to the historic Cliff House next door to the ruined Sutro Baths up above Ocean Beach, but the Park Service decided the Cliff House needed a renovation and gave the Musee an eviction notice. Thankfully, rather than close up, they managed to make a move down to the Wharf, which while not as picturesque a location, still seems to have worked out well for 'em. You'll now find the Musee at pier 45, shed A, right alongside the Jeremiah O'Brien and that WWII submarine. Not only did the Musee find a new home, but now they've released a third volume of recordings documenting the player-piano-roll operated mechanical musical contraptions you'll find there. Vols. 1 and 2 were hits here at AQ and with good reason. Vol. 3 picks up where they left off, featuring more of the music made by their collection of lovingly preserved orchestras-in-a-box from decades and decades ago. For the first time ever, the machine pictured on the cover, the huge and impressive "Englehardth", finally appears in all its sonic glory on disc, as they finally got it fully restored into working order.
As with the other volumes, these are excellent recordings and each track starts with the coin drop, a nice touch. Musically, you can expect lotsa charming old timey tunes with titles like "Maurice's Irresistable Tango", "Grandpa's Spells", "There's A Shanti In Old Shantitown" and "My Song Of The Nile". Some you'll recognize, some won't be so familiar. All are quite quaint to modern ears, yet lively and spirited. There's 27 musical tracks here, from jaunty foot tappers to romantic melodies -- and then as always, the Musee's mascot, Laughing Sal, wraps things up with her disturbingly forced, truly hysterical laughter. Next best thing to actually visiting the Musee Mechanique, which we highly recommend.
We get so many records submitted to us for consideration, and like we've said before we really do listen to everything that comes our way (though it does sometimes take us forever!) and it's always worth it because of gems like this. We haven't heard a pop record with this much ambition, depth and dynamic range of sound in a long, long time. Michael Musika has a really unique approach to crafting not only songs but an overall feeling that flows throughout the album. With interludes filled with beautiful bells and dreamy vibes which cast an interesting spell, and then proper songs which tap into a side of quirky, orchestral pop that you just don't hear done that often or this well, these days. Taking elements of Emmit Rhodes, Biff Rose, and Van Dyke Parks, San Francisco's Micheal Musika has created his own world of cinematic pop glory.
Mute Socialite are a new aural maelstrom featuring Bay Area avant music vets Moe! Staiano, Ava Mendoza, Alec Karim and Shayna Dunkleman. Don't even attempt to define this new group's sound by the words in their moniker. They are anything but mute, and we wouldn't consider theirs to be the most social of musics. It's like a sonic blow to the solar plexus that then proceeds to march on odd time signatures upon your fallen form. The dozen pieces deliver plenty of mighty post-punk churn, no wave spasm and math rock count-that-shit! At once fiercely precise and wildly chaotic. Blistering.
Lordship And Bondage is filled with images of the most garish of theatrics, tattered velvet drapes and torn gowns stained with red wine and smeared rouge. Like an errant banshee, Mannequin Lamar'sïaffected, operatic vocals hold unstable court over the erratic gothmetal assembly. One dozen mean and dirty cabaret indulgences primarily driven by an industrial rock stomp. Imagine if Klaus Nomi were an overwrought goth fronting Marilyn Manson's band. You may find yourself asking "Are these guys from Florida or SF's Mission District?"ï
It seems that something is keeping me from enjoying the 'Mannequins intended pursuits, however. Hindered by an overt self-awareness? A forced eccentricity? Not unlike spotting an immaculately coiffed and perfumed dandy in a full tailored suit strolling proudly down the street, but as your eyes drink in this vision they fall to his feet and are disappointed to find the most scuffed, unkempt boots - promising, but the image is marred. Cover art features the same Man Ray photograph that John Zorn chose for his 1993 album, Radio.
Classic Bay Area band.
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With the new Myrmyr album we'll be briefer than we would like to be because it's incredibly good, but super limited. We have 10 copies and only 250 have been made, so we're not sure we can get more, so act fast! The stunning vinyl debut of these two former Mills College music grads, Marielle Jakobsons (Date Palms, Darwinsbitch) and Agnes Szelag, was recorded during a snowstorm on Shasta Mountain. We were smitten with their first release, The Amber Sea, and here on Fire Star, they have honed down their focus of post-classical orchestrations into a more finely textured array of nuance and mood. It's hard to tell who is doing what. It sometimes sounds like there are a dozen players performing, or it could be a lavish manipulation of tape loops and electronics, but the effect is quite beautiful. Starting out with plucked strings and bell tones that eventually melt feverishly into intense drones that smolder and swell revealing hidden passages of lush orchestrations that slip seamlessly in and out of the aural field. Four tracks of gorgeous mesmerizing beauty. Don't Hesitate!
Not to be confused with the field recordist Murmer or the improv-drone Murmur or even the dubstep Murmur, this Myrmyr hails from Oakland and features Marielle Jakobsons (aka Darwinsbitch) and Agnes Szelag. Together they present fragmented orchestrations of post-classical arrangements alongside minimalist avant-folk gestures and a restrained use of electronics. Strings of all sorts are central to Myrmyr, whether that be cello, violin, cymbalon, harp, or ukulele, as they compose elongated passages which billow out of a cinematic post-classical sensibility and blossom into occasional shanty arrangements which allude to Baltic folk traditions. In moving between the more academic aspects and more folk stylizations, Myrmyr also incorporate male and female vocals into their arrangements. The occasional use of clanking bells and playful clatter of objects does offer some parallels to a few of a more abstract elements of the Finnish freakfolk community, but more often than not, Myrmyr's studied compositions glide more towards the work of Hildur Gudnadottir and Max Richter, rather than Lau Nau. Very nicely done!
Our (and perhaps your) introduction to the Bay Area artist Nachiketa comes in the form of a 52 minute instrumental track titled Good Night Persimmon. Nachiketa takes us through gentle, hushed passages that ebb and flow with string plucks, lulling drones and an occasional mist of staticky flutters. Calming loveliness.
This is the debut release for Bay Area troubadour Goh Nakamura. He draws from the no frills, sensitive singer/songwriter inkwell... ultra heartfelt and barebones, much like that of Elliott Smith's early albums. The ache is palpable in each of the eleven songs on Daylight Savings. Impressive.
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The fourth volume released by the Skratch Piklz, more beats and breaks for scratching.
We were introduced to these East Bay crust metal crushers via a split lp with Aussie heavies and long time aQ faves Whitehorse (reviewed elsewhere on this week's list), but this right here is the Negative Standards' first proper full length, a relentless and furious onslaught of churning D-beat crust punk and epic, chugging, Neurosis style sludge metal heaviness.
No song titles just numbers, tracks I through V can be found on their debut ep, and tracks XII and XII are on the split with Whitehorse, but "VI" though "XI" make up this 12", and deliver a punishing barrage of sick riffage, and skull caving drum damage, and the vocals, a throat shredding demonic bellow, the whole thing a brutal chug fest, songs lurching from driving crust punk, furious and chaotic to tarpit, downtuned doom sludge crush, with some super blown out weirdness that gives the sound a seriously psychedelic vibe, the band equally adept at knuckle dragging, pit stirring, ferocity, and soaring, majestic sonic epicry, just check out the 8+ minute "X", which spends the first half of those minutes, unfurling a gorgeously morose and melancholic true doom crawl, moody and mesmerizing, somewhere between Bell Witch and True Widow, slowcore downer doom, that creeps and lumbers, before exploding into a noise drenched, punk metal blast, those two disparate sound somehow fusing together for the last few minutes, the guitars soaring, the arrangement a slow build toward a Godspeed / Neurosis style crescendo, but still punk as fuck, and seriously crusty. Killer stuff. Every track here, some sort of black-crust / punk-doom hybrid, that we can't get enough of. Not sure how we'd never heard of these guys before, but doing our best to make up for it now.
Released on the always great Vendetta label, with a super striking, creepy dead body / surveillance photo album cover. Sadly, there's no download (although you can get the digital versions for free on their bandcamp!)...
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DICK VAUGHN IS DEAD! But that's old news by now. Moribund Music of the '70s is volume four in Negativland's Over The Edge series of live radio broadcasts. In this installment, Richard Lyons' (a.k.a Dick Vaughn) vainly attempts to be the first to cash in on
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Volume 1 1/2 of Seeland's Over The Edge series (so named for the weekly radio show produced by Negativland on KPFA) originally recorded in 1985. On this (single) disc Richard Lyons, aka Dick Goodbody, hosts an auto trivia show with both complete sincerity and expert detail. It's probably the most amazing piece of radio theater since the zenith of the Firesign Theater's semi-improvised comedy antics during the seventies. You'll hear callers attempt to stump Dick with questions about their classic cars. You'll hear the Weatherman go head to head with Contra Costa County's top radio trivia whiz Daryl Garrison where callers abuse them with their trivia questions and much more. Though the idea of an "auto-trivia" show may seem pedestrian to some it is perhaps in spite of this that somehow the show works and is quite funny. It's like tuning into an AM radio show in the middle of the night after taking several tabs of acid. The performance is dry, so dry in fact that several participating callers don't appear to realize that the show is a joke. As a bonus to this CD edition you get a "Dick's Auto Hive" key chain, and a fold out full page advertisement for the Auto Hive from a faked Contra Costa Times page circa 1985. Also included on this disc is the "Rototiller Singalong"; thirty five minutes of madness, the highlight of which is a five minute segment at the end where David, the Weatherman, presents a stereo recording he made of his neighbor rototilling his backyard!
Volume 6 in Negativland's Over The Edge series (so named for the weekly radio show produced by Negativland on KPFA). This volume is dedicated to David Wills -- aka The Weatherman -- and his obsession with field recording, most notably his fixation with recording his family. Don Joyce and David produced several shows on Over The Edge dedicated to David and his tapes and then distilled it down to these two discs. Beginning with a recording of David with his first tape recorder as a young wippersnapper and continuing with all the various tapes he made through his youth, adolescence, and on into adulthood. One of the principle subjects of David's recordings are Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners with his family. In David's house, where he lived with his parents up until they passed away, he had both his room and the kitchen wired for sound so that he could play tapes of his mom and grandmother talking while making thanksgiving dinner as they made thanksgiving dinner a year later, or two years, or five... etc. The two then remark on the previous years as David continues to record them and talk back to them. The result is a really bizarre, non-linear ongoing conversation. Interspersed throughout these two discs of David's audio history are sections where listeners to the show call up and query Mr Wills for help with their cable TV repair, radio and electronics problems, ask questions about home cleaning and participate in the "Fake Bacon & Electronic Music" hotline.
Long in the works debut full length from these SF heavies, four songs, 54 minutes, a sprawling collection of lurching lumbering, trudging post metal apocalyptic, swampy emo dirgery. And we don't mean emo in the mall punk sense, no we're talking, earnest and intense, epic and EMOTIONAL, the vocals specifically, a wild, nearly unhinged caterwaul, dramatic and occasionally over the top, sounding a bit like a harsher Daniel Higgs (and when it does, the band almost sounds like a metal Lungfish!), or a more metal David Yow, a little like the guy from NoMeansNo oddly enough, or even a more manic Michael Gira, with an intense, snarling delivery, actually sung too, not of that gurgle and shriek, and those real vocals add pathos and intensity to the already swaggery, slithery doomy crush underneath.
Equal parts math metal, post metal and doom metal, these guys unfurl epic sun baked expanses of totally epic doom blues brutality, churning heaviness that slips from gnarled Birthday Party like scumrock to soaring slow building Neurosis style pummel, the guitars drifting from jangle to roar, from shimmer do droned out and blackened, often in the same song. Long stretches of hypnotic cyclical riffing give way to bursts of chaotic metal psych jams, give way to swampy noise rock strut, eventually returning to the lumbering downtuned heaviness that seems to be the band's core, but those vocals soar above it all, tortured and patently UNmetal, helping transform this post metal avant doom into something truly unique.
LIMITED to 100 COPIES!!
On their debut album -- a fully fleshed out rock production -- SF band Nervebox reveal many facets of their musical personality including a flair for the somber and the dramatic. Oddly enough on initial in-store play, Drawn swiftly drew comparisons to such diverse artists such as Arcadia (remember that project by Duran Duran's Simon LeBon and Nick Rhodes? check out "Out Of Line" which also hinted at shades of Portishead's pace and mood), early REM (on "All For The Best") or David Sylvian back in Japan days. And Nervebox certainly do traverse the vast rock terrain freely and confidently although they do tend to keep returning to the deep emotiveness of Japan/David Sylvian. Synths swoop and howl like menacing ravens on one song, decisively-picked guitar drives another, then suddenly you're immersed in a eerie carnivalesque rock number ("Monkey"). Nervebox keeps you on your toes.
Yet another limited edition release from Mike Donovan's Folding cassette-only label. This one's considerably longer in running time than any of the recent batch, and it features early improvised recordings by John Dwyer (guitar) and Brian Gibson (drums) aka The Netmen. Noisy and rhythmic and weird and pretty wonderful. Just what you'd expect from the mad musical minds of Gibson and Dwyer.
Super limited!
PHAK YEAH!! It's been, like, ten years since this local groop, the 'South East Asian' alter ego of sonic subversives Mono Pause, put out their debut album, which became quite a bit of a hit here at aQ. Now at long last they've recorded a follow-up full-length, featuring the anthemic track "Fucking USA" which appeared on a 7" single some years back, along with ten more brand new cuts of their exuberant ethno-rock exotica.
Among several AQ pals, Neung Phak's ranks include Mark Gergis (of Porest), who is the man responsible for a lot of our favorite Sublime Frequencies releases (and who now runs the likeminded Sham Palace label too). So you know that this band's take on various forms of traditional pop musics from Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Indonesia, and elsewhere is well researched, steeped in firsthand knowledge probably gleaned on a backpacking / cassette-tape-digging trip overseas...
Neung Phak should definitely appeal to fans of Dengue Fever, trafficking in the same sort of groovy vintage Cambodian Rocks style psych pop, but with more of a twisted, fucked up edge to it, in the tradition of the late great Sun City Girls - whose Abduction label put this out, and whose Alan Bishop makes a cameo appearance.
"Fucking USA", which they would have us believe was recorded in Pyongyang, is probably the most punk rockish thing on here, but the whole album is exceedingly energetic and effervescent. And full of surprises - like the distorted electronic noise and free jazz freakouts that erupt in the middle of foreign-language funk vamp "Sa-Ha".
Make no mistake, though, even with the sometimes crazed vocals and distorted acid rock guitars, many of these tracks are dancefloor fillers, for sure! Their wild East-West hybrid may have its faux-ethnic elements, but they don't fake the funk. It's like the music Funkadelic would have made if drafted and sent to Vietnam in the '70s, then gone AWOL and playing in some dive bar with local musicians.
Meanwhile, the disc's closer, "Sad Chatri", is a seven-minute psychedelic slow burner, its grooves more for nodding out than getting down. Damn good, as is this whole album, highly recommended!
By the way, this was also released on limited vinyl as well, a couple months ago, but that lp version went out of print too darn fast for us to list - though we may just have 1 copy left if you act quick...
If Dengue Fever is an homage to the sort of band you might see in a clean well lit Cambodian bar, classy and melodic, with sweet pop vocals, then Neung Phak is a tribute to the sort of band you'd go to see around the corner from the nice clubs, down the alley, enter through the back, sitting in the gloom, in a cracked vinyl booth, letting the wild Southeast Asian pop rock wash your cares away. Neung Phak, aka Oakland's Monopause, have become masters of whatever SE Asian musics they decide to tackle be it Thai, Laotian, Vietnamese, Taiwanese, or Cambodian, made possible by the band's adept interpretations, but more importantly the band's vocalists Diana Hayes and Joi Po Dee, who are Thai and Laotian.
Side A is the title track, "Fucking USA", a vintage pop rock tune, big band arrangements, horns, fuzzy psychedelic guitars, with the only bit of vocals in English, being the shouted "Fucking USA!!" Catchy and fun, and so genuine sounding it sounds like it came straight off one of those Sublime Frequencies discs. We can imagine this will be a hit... overseas anyway.
The B side features two tracks recorded live for the radio, the first was immediately familiar, due in no small part to its frequent instore play, as it's a track from Neung Phak's full length, "Tui Tui Tui" with it's super catchy, totally recognizable chorus over a lush big band arrangement, with warm horns, understated guitars and shuffling drums. Originally performed by Yim Yamsupan, and quite possibly one of our favorite Southeast Asian pop songs EVER. The second track is a slowed down version of the title track, with the title changed to "Far King USA" for radio play, the whole thing a lugubrious, moody croon, with mournful piano, haunting vocals, somber and minor key.
Pressed on super thick vinyl and packaged in a thick full color sleeve, with hilarious (and perhaps problematic) cover art!
Limited to 300 copies.
Of course the first thing that will unfortunately happen for Neung Phak (a.k.a. Mono Pause) are the inevitable comparisons to Dengue Fever. And to come to their defence (and we're devout fans of Dengue Fever as well) Neung Phak have not only began working on these tracks prior to Dengue Fever's inception, but the music of the two bands are apples and oranges. Neung Phak (literal Thai translation of Mono Pause) is a new line-up and musical direction for the East Bay experimental music veterans Mono Pause. Featuring Diana Hayes and Joi Po Dee on vocals (Thai and Lao respectively) and some cameo appearances from Sun City Girl Alan Bishop, Neung Phak have done their homework when it comes to pop music of SE Asia. Less a fusion of styles, as seems to be the general trend with occidental ethno-pop bands, than a thoroughly researched compilation of SE Asian pop music genres, with each individual track being an excellently re-created execution of a particular idiom; be it Thai, Laotian, Vietnamese, Taiwanese, Cambodian or Khmer. The album kicks off with "Hired By The King" an excellent toe-tapping mo lam like track (a Neung Phak original) with superb kaen (the ubiquitous mouth organ of the region) playing by Erik Gergis and accompanied by electric bass, electric guitar (picked like a mandolin or oud would be) and percussion (a track later on in the disc "Fired By The King" is similar, though featuring an out of tune bass line that's apparently popular in many of the originals). In stark contrast what follows is a cover of a Thai country pop tune from 1998, an adorably cute up-beat number featuring percussive nasal vocals ("Tui, Tui, Tui") by Diana Hayes. Still keeping the pace going, the group continues with a couple Cambodian Rocks-esque numbers that are probably as close to Dengue Fever as you'll hear Neung Phak get; the first track being a Khmer hit from the 80's and the second a Cambodian ballad featuring Alan Bishop on she-male vocals. In addition to these songs, the group has actually recreated portions of radio dramas from Vietnam and Laotian theatrical mo lam, the latter is an absolute noise freak out and not over-embellished at all according to sources. Highly recommended!
The new, eagerly awaited full-length from the Bay Area's biggest metal band -- whoops, are they really a metal band anymore? They really haven't embraced that tag for a while now, if ever, being more artsy and tribal and droney and avantgarde than what most
New albums from old faves come and go, but when you say, there's a new Neurosis, we sit up and pay attention. Like contemporaries the Melvins, they've reached an iconic, utterly influential status at this point in their long career -- and yet still keep making rad, relevant albums that keep pushing their now archetypal sound further. Pioneers who keep on pioneering, getting better and better, even as hordes of other bands copy them and try to keep up. The word on the street was that Given To The Rising was a "return to the heavy" for Neurosis, not like they ever really left. But yes, this is HEAVY. We can't say (like we did about A Sun That Never Sets) that is is a "kinder, gentler" Neurosis. Not at all. The riffs will slay you, the vocals are fierce, yet the scope (musical, emotional) of this disc is impressively broad... The proggy, psychedelic, post-rock and (dare we say) gloom-pop elements that run like a dark thread through their discography are present on these ten tracks, mostly all of epic lengths (as usual). Harrowing power. Depressive beauty. Ritual rumble. Alienated lyrics. Soft-loud dynamics. Droning space-outs. All utterly "owned" by the Neurosis crew. This band just levels everything and everyone in their path!
This is one that will satisfy old school Neurosis fans and yet would be a perfect first-time Neurosis experience too. For instance -- although we can't imagine this is too likely! -- if there are any Jesu fans out there who haven't ever heard Neurosis, do yourself a favor and pick this up pronto!! Arguably their best album since 1999's classic Times Of Grace.
PS while supplies last, we've got a bonus dvd that comes with the cd... oh and also there WILL be a vinyl pressing, but it's not out yet.
As the title indicates, here's the first in a series of "official bootlegs" of live performances by SF's own punk/metal/experimental/tribal juggernaut, those cheerful dudes known as Neurosis. "This series is designed to provide specially priced quality recordings" of Neurosis shows, in an attempt to "put an end to low quality, overpriced recordings which do not represent our vision of our music" it says here. Not sure what's so specially priced about $14.98, but the recording IS of better-than-usual-bootleg quality for sure, doing justice to the band's sound. Massive, pounding, screaming, Neurosis heaviness, brutal and psychedelic. Recorded in France in 1999, the show documented here features three songs from their "Times Of Grace" album, plus one each from "Through Silver In Blood", "Enemy of the Sun" and "Sovereign". Even though one essential component of the Neurosis live experience -- the trippy video/film visual projections -- is of course missing from this disc, it's still a nice release for fans of the band, demonstrating their sheer metallic power to those who've been lulled by the melodic, post-rocky, even folky & acoustic direction of their last album "A Sun That Never Sets" and the various solo efforts of Mssrs. Kelly and Von Till (though the "Times of Grace" stuff was heading that way too).
Our favorite psychedelic apocalyptic tribal metalcore band fights the bootleggers with this offical live recording, circa their Times Of Grace album. Most tracks are drawn from that fine album, with some earlier stuff represented as well, including "Locust Star", the hit from Through Silver In Blood. Great sound, great live band, it's a no-brainer for dedicated Neurosis fanatics.
Reissue of this all-time-classic by the Bay Area's (and America's!) number one most popular underground metal outfit. Tribal punk/metal with chamber-prog rock leanings? Super heavy and full of atmosphere. I, Allan, personally think that if you're going to own just one Neurosis album, this is it.
Another great Neurosis opus! They've pretty much perfected the combination of massive drone-metal devastation and quietly drifting, melodic gloom. Heavy guitars, roaring voices and industrial-ized drumming give way to desperate melancholic balladry, sung-spoke in a weary, careworn male voice that's a dead ringer for that of Mark Lanegan. As with their recent collaboration with Jarboe of the Swans, or their previous full-length A Sun That Never Sets, you get both dark and light here...really a twilight I guess. Dusk-infused art from a powerful yet mature band. Neurosis fans may find this to be one of their best yet, and anyone not already a Neurosis fan ought to lend an ear (to this record for sure, not to mention all their other excellent releases).
"Locust Star" IS a great song.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Local heroes Neurosis (the biggest underground "metal" band in the country?) return with a new digital slab of heaviness, dark and grinding like Slayer on 33. Yet they incorporate elements of their Tribes of Neurot alter-ego, lending Times of Grace a much more melodic sound, with swashes of delicate ambience. Compared to their last record, Through Silver In Blood, this is superior, making for a much better follow-up to their great Enemy Of The Sun lp. Tribal metal psychedelia, uniquely Neurosis. Recommended.
Oh, we should add that to expand this listening experience, you might also want to accompany Times Of Grace with Grace, the companion album by the Neurosis' ambient experimental alter ego, Tribes Of Neurot. They're intended to be played simultaneously!
Scary Swans 'chanteuse' Jarboe has been getting into the collaborative thing of late, doing a tour and live DVD with Italian post-rockers Larsen, and now getting together with the Bay Area's very own Neurosis, the reigning kings of underground art metal. Jarboe's idiosyncratic but compelling vocals -- a whisper, a pant, a drawl -- get dynamic backing from the Neurosis horde. Their sinister tribal drone-psych heaviness is a churning, seething thing, a perfect backdrop for Jarboe's dramatic lyrics and vocal style, which can range from rather lovely and melodic to total throat abuse. Rather than being a metal juggernaut, Neurosis here sound more akin to their Tribes of Neurot alter-ego, a spacey industrial darkness capable of spells of delicate beauty that seem always about to crumble or explode. Especially effective is the 11 minute apocalyptic country-folk dirge that closes the album. But all ten tracks are powerful, psychological. Definitely a downer listen that should appeal to fans of both sides in this collaboration.
It was a teasing single, that one-sided picture disc which showcased one hell of a darkwave track enriched by the sonorous baritone from Never Knows architect and principal Marc Kate. That voice and those synth-pop aspirations / devolutions run throughout the much anticipated debut album from this former aQ staffer as well. Ink does feature a different mix of the aforementioned single "Still Life" buttressed by a myriad of tracks rich with solemnly Numanoid downbeats, Violator-era miserablism, goth-dub grooviness, and a smattering of witchy / dark-eyed techno overtures. Two instrumental tracks bookend the album, leading with "Into" a dour track of sunken electro-clad breaks and closing with the black-clad, minimal-techno wash "Exeunt" with its thoughtful nods to Monolake and Regis. Between this, Kate takes a deep breath and exhales with a voice that we likened in the past to Dave Gahan; and yes, he still croons with an impassioned vibrato of equal portent. Along with the zombie-sect hymn of "Still Life," "Becoming" is one of the more dramatic numbers on the album with a slow build of maudlin half-melodies transforming into an urgent surge of basslines and drum programming to match Kate's quickened delivery. The skittering (dare we call them 'Amen'?) breaks of "Awake" brighten the overall mood towards the end of the album, making us wonder what the hell happened to Andrea Parker after she made a couple of particularly dark albums for Mo' Wax in the late '90s. We could research it, but we didn't; and in any case here we have an opulent gem of dark atmospheres, spilling from Ink.
Still Life is the first physical offering from former aQ-staffer Marc Kate. For a couple years now, he has run the digital imprint Untitled & After, which branded itself as wanting to be the 4AD of techno when it grows up. Deep house, minimal techno, and a smattering of ambient tracks ripple through his understated, yet finely curated catalogue. But that's not what you're gonna get with Never Knows or at least with this one-sided single. Here, Kate supplies a grizzled, minimal wave cut driven by his crooning baritone, which is uncannily similar to Dave Gahan of Depeche Mode. It was never a secret (at least to us) that Marc's youth was shaped by the dark romance of new wave; but we never knew (sorry, pun intended) that he could sing it too! Musically, Kate takes after the more angular arrangements of John Foxx and Fad Gadget all grafted with an ominous synth noise scab picked off of the scraped knee from any number of the old kids who grew up in Sheffield circa 1979 (e.g. Clock DVA, Hula, Cabaret Voltaire, Human League, etc.). Hypnotic, seductive, gritty, and transgressively groovy. The track foreshadows a full album that is slated for the spring of 2014; and if this single is any indication, that album should be a fucking corker! The flipside to the album sports of silkscreen of a splattered image of Marc suffering the consequences of having a bucket of black paint dumped on his razor shorn head. Limited to a mere 250 copies, and comes with a download!
Charged guitar driven rock from this SF outfit who can be found rocking around town at places like El Rio and The Eagle. We've been smitten with their take on unpretentious post-punk inspired by prime-time Talking Heads that has reminded us a bit of the first Interpol record or a more in the garage and gutsy version of Bloc Party. A really nice debut and we'll be paying close attention to what the future holds for The New Centuries.
You know a record is good, when you have no idea what the hell to say about it. Or if "what the fuck" is the first words that come to mind. Such is the case with this tour only cd-r ep from local twisted psych goth weirdos New Thrill Parade. Part of a burgeoning local scene that includes the Ovens (new record on tUMULt soon), Prizehog, Robocop 3 and a bunch of other dubiously named local noisemakers.
But New Thrill Parade definitely stand out, their dizzyingly druggy cabaret workouts, chiming high end guitars, chaotic drumming, long stretches of doomy Nick Cave like crooning, buzzing bass drones and wild operatic freakouts, like a soundtrack to some super fucked up Tim Burton student film. It's impossible to not imagine some strange stone creatures or gross, tentacled beasts singing the deep vocal parts, and some crazed multi headed ring master type balancing on some equally deformed beast belting out the wailing high parts.
Moody and dramatic and cinematic and over the top. Plenty psychedelic and tripped out and druggy, and really fucking catchy, hooks popping up all over the place, while the band unfurls their peculiar brand of funhouse doom and abandoned amusement park goth, horns bleat and moan sparring with the multiple voices, the vibe is definitely eighties, these guys would have KILLED at L.A.'s Scream club, maybe opening for Jane's Addiction or Tex & The Horseheads, but they take that sound and doll it all up with some more modern lo-fi noise rock heaviness, some warped off kilter over the top psych-glam freakouts, and plenty of textures and layers and effects and ambience.
Still need to see these guys live, might be a disappointment since we're envisioning strange beasts and scary monsters, but that's why the cd is perfect, close your eyes, and let these guys drag you screaming into their cracked and crazed world of sound.
TOUR ONLY, LIMITED TO 200 COPIES, we got a dozen or so, might very well be the only copies we get.
Release me now from my mortal flesh, where all my thoughts look towards death. This blackened void in which I gasp for breath, death release me NOW! Oh, what I mean is, this is the newest release from San Francisco's own twisted goth, mindfreakin art damaged, sorrowfully psychedelic Death Rockers, The New Thrill Parade! Whoa. Woe.
We have reviewed all their previous releases up until now, and luckily for us things just keep getting weirder and weirder and more and more demented in the New Thrill Parade commune. The sound is an angular misanthropic romp. Bass and drums churning out urgent, fractured rhythms, while the guitar cuts the throat of any soul with open ears, with piercing, discordant, mind-bending leads. Everything swirling, and seething madly, till the brain leaks out of the ears, and any thoughts you had before, about music, life, social relations, death, sex, are completely mutated and subverted. It's a jubilant sonic experience, but travels dark roads to come to it. This explanation of NTP's sound world is not unlike those of our past reviews (which you should check out), but Slumber In Colorland presents a marked development in both the bands sound and aesthetic. The intensely orchestrated, and inspired song craft fuckery of this latest venture show the band maturing and really finding their own unique mode of operation, giving this album a consistency not yet found in their previous works. It's like gothy deathrock darkness has finally met its blurry-brained, altered state, tripped out, color smeared polar blood brother! The songs range from depressive dark jazz sounding crooners, to completely fucked up rock fury, with mutilated melodies and disjointed noises. Heavily warped shit! Not so much genre defying, as it is genre defining!
Welcome to New Weird Santa Cruz! New Thrill Parade are not your typical bowl-roasting beach bums. They're more likely to smear their faces with cherry red lip stick and hang out under that bridge from the movie Lost Boys, drinking goats blood and cutting themselves. This shit is GOTH. Fuck yeah. The sound of this record is actually a bit of a tough one to describe. The heart of New Thrill Parade's music lies in the pounding, arrhythmic dark dance created by the sexually charged rhythm section, compelling you to move as though you were mounted by some sort of Yoruba diety. Super discordant guitar lines, soaked in reverb and chorus float atop this propulsive thump. The sax squawks, the sounds of a knife being dragged against a piece of sheet metal creeps through the mix at points, and the vocals HOWL! Vocalist Amitai's yelps and croons push the band's already amazing sound WAY over the top...his lyrics are perfectly dramatic and dark, and his sense of delivery conveys the fucked up, twisted world this band seems to exist in. Favorite tracks include the slow building creep fest "Peace Punch", and the twisted fucked up "Body Ship", which sounds like some evil bubble gum music you might hear in a nightmare after watching too much Twin Peaks. But all the tracks are killer!! For fans of The Birthday Party, Christian Death, and the Butthole Surfers...and any other freaky, fucked up insane band that rules. Also, if you get the chance, SEE THEM LIVE! Amazing theater for sure.
This is a mind fuck of a 12"! We just got our hands on this, The New Thrill Parade's first ever document of their brand of head-trippy angular goth madness, and we could not be more pleased. This EP brings the listener to the edge of neurotic insanity, the place in your mind where shameful thoughts and nervous feelings are waging endless war. Dark, creeping discordances pummeling one and other, skull drilling guitar lines, saxophone squawking, and crooning vocals desperately narrating the most tenebrous thought processes of the human psyche. Heavy.
The ep begins with the drunken swagger of "Gift Horse". Starting slow and low, at a sort of swung pace, vocals sighing deeply, specks of reverby guitar and flittering sax punctuating the creeping crawl of the rhythm section. The chorus bursts in suddenly with a jagged romp, piercing guitars and guttural whoops, reminding us of The Birthday Party at their most frenetic. The second track, "Jealous Brothers" is a bit more rocking, the fucked up guitar lines becoming a little more strident and noisy. The bass lines on this one are throbbingly heavy, with the drummer playing a sort methamphetamine cowboy shuffle. Rounding out the a-side is "Spare My Teeth", starting off with a twisted spazzy groove, guitar wailing, drums churning out a clatter of syncopation, before everything pretty much drops off, and the tempo becomes stretched and abstracted, pushing and pulling with howling vocal lines, and then snapping back into the rocking tempo of the beginning. The song slowly dies, twisting and curling like the end of a fragmented dream.
The b-side starts up where the a-side left off, "Moat" is a riff heavy stomper, but maintains the abstract form of "Spare My Teeth". The tempo is stretched to hell, noisy and arrhythmic at times. The closing track is far and away our favorite. "Little Dancer, Age 14" is a creepfest! Dark and heavy as fuck, starting off with just twangy strung out guitar stabs and funerary sounding organ carrying out the progression, the vocals murmuring in deep tones, lamenting some horrific train of thought. The song has an overwhelmingly elegiac feeling, drifting along like a Lynchian dream (nightmare?), fractured and abstracted. The piece ends beautifully, with tremolo picked wailing guitar melodies, outlining a more major sounding chord progression. A stark contrast from the rest of this minor sounding document. Killer!
This band recently moved to San Francisco from the nefarious beaches of Santa Cruz, and we are glad to have them. They are quickly becoming one of the most interesting and confounding local acts. While a little more raw then the debut full-length (reviewed on list #252) the dark intensity has been present from the beginning. This record is a bad trip, but in the best way! Like the type of nightmare you don't want to wake up from. Fractured and fucked up, noisy and scattered, and all together AMAZING! For fans of The Birthday Party, Public Image Ltd., Swans, Butthole Surfers, Scratch Acid, Lydia Lunch, and all jams damaged and demented. Recommended!
Everybody who loves San Francisco fairytale folk singer/harpist Joanna Newsom raise your hands -- we know there's a lot of you out there! We want your attention 'cause this lil' cd is a special treat for fans. It's got one previously unreleased Newsom track "What We Have Known", plus "Sprout And The Bean" taken from her smash hit (well, 'round these parts it seems anyway) album The Milk-Eyed Mender! And, better yet even, this also includes a video for said track! Obviously, it's single for fans only, but we imagine quite a few you won't be able to resist...
