It's a crying shame that these recordings were made in 1996 and never saw release until 2002, but what are you gonna do when you've signed to a major label, only to have the idiot higher ups pronounce your demos "unlistenable"? (Hence the name of this record, heh.) Then again, considering how fresh and good and utterly *now* this album sounds, it really shows how much ahead of their time SF's late great Steelpole Bathtub was. Hard to believe that it was made mostly in Mike Morasky's living room when you hear the thick gooey distorted guitar flangeing in and out, the effected, growling vocals, the squealing guitar solos, the trashcan percussion, the macabre surf-y tone alternating with Melvins-y sludge. There're even two ferocious Cars covers and one hidden track. If you have never heard Steelpole before, this is a great place to start -- in fact, bandmember Darren Mor-X claims these are Steelpole's best recordings. Also, if you've never heard Steelpole but are in love with their side project and major AQ-alltime fave Milk Cult, then get this record now! There's not the sampling and electronics found on the Milk Cult record, but the incredibly well done pacing and tone and weirdly accessible heaviness is all there. Recommended.
NOW ON VINYL!
Who'd expect a big bunch of pasty Bay Area indie rockers to form a reggae group? You'd probably be a bit suspicious of their intent, wouldn't ya? But Still Flyin' are without an ounce of irony. There's simply no room for it when there's such a truckload of genuine enthusiasm for the music. Yes, it's quite a surprising turn of events, innit? They frolic on the bright sunny side of reggae with lots of buoyant melodies and exuberant vocals. This is fun, feel-good music with not a cloud in the sky. Their good time van seats over a dozen including frontman Sean Rawls, Brian Girgus (Trackstar, Lowercase), Yoshi Nakamoto (Aisler's Set) and it used to include Wyatt Cusick (Trackstar, Aisler's Set) too before he moved to the distant shores of Scandinavia.
Who'd expect a big bunch of pasty Bay Area indie rockers to form a reggae group? You'd probably be a bit suspicious of their intent, wouldn't ya? But Still Flyin' are without an ounce of irony. There's simply no room for it when there's such a truckload of genuine enthusiasm for the music. Yes, it's quite a surprising turn of events, innit? They frolic on the bright sunny side of reggae with lots of buoyant melodies and exuberant vocals. This is fun, feel-good music with not a cloud in the sky. Their good time van seats over a dozen including frontman Sean Rawls, Brian Girgus (Trackstar, Lowercase), Yoshi Nakamoto (Aisler's Set) and it used to include Wyatt Cusick (Trackstar, Aisler's Set) too before he moved to the distant shores of Scandinavia.
Still Flyin' are a bunch of cool kids from the Bay Area's indie rock'n'pop community and beyond (the ever changing and expanding line-up has included members of Track Star, Lowercase, Aislers Set, and Ladybug Transistor). Yup, they're a supergroup of sorts with a twist, they take a break from their respective general rocking and rolling, in favor of a whole different style of music -- some of the most feel-good reggae infused pop around. The outcome is absolutely unironic, positively jubilant and very well done. If you missed their debut album Time Wrinkles On last year, you've been missing out on the good times. This ep keeps the Still Flyin' party in full flight. Sure to buoy up your spirits and brighten up your day.
The boys in Stirling Says have really beefed up their sound and cranked the amps and feedback since we last heard from them on their split 7" with Katie The Pest. And we think this added punch serves them so well! Balboa has such an awesomely raw and free wheeling guitar driven sound, reminding us of that awesome intersection of the late '80s SST scene (Dinosaur Jr, Leaving Trains, Screaming Trees, Das Damen) and the early beginnings of the Sub Pop roster (Eric's Trip, Seaweed, Sebadoh) and that sound is so totally refreshing right now! So much of the recent output of guitar driven rock seems to be so centered on its lo-fi/outsider aesthetic, we've been missing what it feels like to just have a great short two minute song hit you in the gut with a wall of guitars and soaring vocals. This is the kind of record perfect for roadtrips as the songs on Balboa really do flow with a never-ending summer charm.
Another rootsy lo-fi cd-r from the SF folk whippersnapper Ryan Stively. This one's a bit more even-keeled than his self-titled debut cdr which took a few wigged-out distorted detours. From Sugar Thunder's packaging to the dozen loosely woven acoustic tunes to Stively's slightly frayed around the edges vocals, this release is entirely shaded in muted earth tones. Note: As we mentioned, these recordings are quite low in the fidelity department with volume levels that jump about haphazardly. So, keep in mind that you might need to govern the volume knob a bit.
This homespun offering from SF singer/songwriter Ryan Stively has varied levels of lo-fi recording quality (the first track is much quieter than the second), but the quality of his songwriting shines through. Each song is mainly centered around voice and acoustic guitar which he embellished with an occasional higher backing vocals, violin, and percussion. For the most part, these nine songs linger in the hushed intimate folk realm. The one exception is the eighth song (which we've dubbed "It Takes A Worried Man To Sing A Worried Song" because no song titles are provided) dissolves into unexpected almost Ween-ish fucked-up and distorted mischief. Nonetheless, if you dug the recent Iron & The Albatross album, you might wanna check this out too!
Why Kelley Stoltz isn't world famous yet is a total mystery, as this guy is clearly one of SF's most talented, creative musicians -- and here on his second solo effort he really shines. It's kind of amazing what home recordings can sound like in the hands of great musicmakers, but instead of the stark loneliness you might expect (a la Iron & Wine, maybe), this recording is full of layers and layers of grit and melody and mood and attitude. There's the pop vivacity of Ted Leo, the eccentricity of Syd Barrett, the offbeat blues-based weirdness of Beefheart, the rough 'n earnest buzz of Neutral Milk Hotel, the occasional '60s garage psyche vibe, barely-there electronic squiggles (not at all overpowering the overall organic rock feel), and the propulsive chugging guitar of the Velvets... Believe me, this is just great, a remarkably mature and well executed effort. The instrumentals and weirder bits are paced well between the proper songs, making the album a good listen straight thru. Bravo, Kelley.
Hey Kelley, you've got your Beatles in my Beach Boys in his Bowie! On his first full length on Sub Pop (his last album was the excellent self-released Antique Glow), Stoltz gleefully mixes and matches the unmistakable compositional styles and sounds of the abovementioned, and in lesser hands this would prolly be a bit stickily problematic. However, Stoltz is such a fine songwriter and performer in his own right that, rather than groaning at an unabashed mining of the classics, you just might find yourself getting swept up in the delight of these refreshing pop gems. His vocals jump from high emotive Bowie-ness to slightly gruff Ringo-esque speak-sing to Brian Wilson-y croon. Entirely exuberant and engaging. Recommended!
Perhaps taking a cue from SF's Doug Hilsinger & Caroleen Beatty who lovingly crafted a complete reinterpretation of their favorite Brian Eno album Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy), fellow Bay Area artist Kelley Stoltz has tackled Echo & The Bunnymen's Crocodiles album in its entirety. Stoltz did all the performin' and recordin' on his faithful ol' 8-track with impressive, full fledged results. Surprisingly gritty and raucous! So, while we eagerly await his new album out soon on Sub Pop, we can delight in his right-on rendition of one of Echo & The Bunnymen's bestest albums!
What's this? A little bit more from Kelley Stoltz! Wow, we've barely been able to catch our breath after he double-whammy'd us with Below The Branches and Crockodials (aka his terrific new full length and his complete recreation of Echo & The Bunnymen's album Crocodiles respectively). In case you're still craving more from Mr. Stoltz, the kind gent himself has just brought in some copies of his latest 7" vinyl offering for your hungry lil' ears. Instead of the Beach Boys-Bowie-Beatles-y pop sounds of his album or the '80s somber angst of the cover album, he's opted for a more swaggering, grungey Motor City-ness. "Discount City" and its baseball-themed flip side "'84 Tigers" are edgy, trippy blues rock numbers, very well suited for release on this Detroit, MI indie label. Cool!
Limited to 500.
Always nice to see the sun come through, and it's nice to hear Kelley Stoltz's shining tunes too! This is terrific! Mr. Stoltz is certainly one of San Francisco's cherished musical treasures, and Sub Pop's kindly taken it upon themselves to help spread the word beyond the California border. This is a 5-song ep in preparation for his third full length (his first on the Seattle label). Such a skillful songcraftsman, he encorporates the very strong influences of the Beatles (check out "You're Out Of This World") and David Bowie ("Away With The Swans and "Let's Go Out Tonight") into his music without making them distractions. This ep already makes for an excellent follow-up to his fine Antique Glow album, can't wait for the full length!!
Sweet (and Super Limited!!) four song 7" from local popstar Kelley Stoltz on Artschool Dropout who have also brought us The Josephine Foster and Michael Yonkers 7"s (reviewed elsewhere on this list). Covering Emitt Rhode's classic "With My Face On The Floor", plus three originals. Stoltz brings a vintage pop quality to these songs, which if we didn't know any better, could easily be mistaken for long lost Kinks tracks from the Something Else sessions. Includes artwork by Simon Evans.
A brand new 7" single from beloved Bay Area chap Kelley Stoltz (yeah, we know he's originally from Michigan, but he's been here so long that we're claimin' him as our own!)! Side One is from his forthcoming full length which is scheduled for a February 2008 release. "Owl Service" on Side Two is exclusive to this record! Sounds like he's picking right up from where he left off on the retro pop/rock steeped Below The Branches (2005). Always a pleasure!
Here's a handy link [http://www.sukothai.com/] to Carl Stone's web page. A Bernal Heights resident and wonderful electronic composer, he's also inventor of that Powerbook-and-human-voice-driven sound-trip called Acid Karaoke, which you really ought to see live.
This SF band seems to have something of an identity crisis. It's sounds like they just can't seem to find one of their own. With each album, they sound like another band... who already exist. Last time it was Pavement (and a great version of Pavement it was too), and prior to that it was the Go-Betweens (and they managed that nicely as well). Actually on Love & Distortion they've reverted back to the latter again but perhaps with more soft Brit shoegazerness, Blur boyish peppiness and some Sonic Youth atonalisms too. Sounds like it could have been recorded in 85, or 89 or 92. While they do what they do quite well, it's just not all that original and sounds like a junior version of all of the bands mentioned above.
MPEG Download: "The Simple Things Are Taking Over" [/audio/stratford4simple.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "The Simple Things Are Taking Over" [/audio/stratford4simple.m3u]
One of the hardest working bands in San Francisco demonstrate on this second release their own brand of atmospheric, dreamy pop. Combining pretty boy/girl vocal harmonies. Reminiscent of Mazzy Star, Opal, and the Go Betweens.
Here it is, the first release by The Stratford 4 on their new label home Jet Set Records. It follows their two well-received self-released cds (one of which was the totally great "This Could Be Heaven" from last year). I've got a good feeling about this
The return of prodigal sons Strawberry Smog, a band of bay area artists and musical friends (featuring former members of Pale Hoarse and Touched By A Janitor) some of whom have been roaming around the East coast since we last heard from the band when they dropped off their limited tape and cd combo debut before skipping town a year ago. Now they got a super packed cd of two full length albums released together of infectious sun-dappled jangle rock and psych-tinged folk. The sound is less laid-back, and more ambitiously arranged and recorded. They still wear the sixties / seventies west coast folk-rock banner very proudly, sounding somewhere between Kaleidoscope (US) and West Coast Experimental Art Band with just a tinge of Britishness in the studio experimentation. The momentum is upbeat, but varied enough that songs maneuver from poppy rock jams to psych folk to deep roots and trad tropes quite effortlessly. Recommended for fans of Woods, The Fresh and Onlys, Cool Ghouls and any of the bands mentioned above!
The latest musical project from longtime San Francisco artist and musician Kyle Ranson (previously of Pale Hoarse and the artist behind the human faced dog drawing on Thee Oh Sees Putrifiers II album), Strawberry Smog is a lo-fi indie pop group in the vein of Woods and the Fresh & Only's with an eye on sixties west coast pop-psych structures through a home grown folk-busking lens. Sort of like Olivia Tremor Control mining Incredible Submarine Band influences instead of The Beatles, the songs are catchy, well-written and infectious invoking a druggy California sunshine vibe without a whole lot of unnecessary gimmicks. The tape comes with a cd of the same material. Can't wait to hear more!
EXTREMELY LIMITED!!!!!
Some strange, unsettling rumblings from across the bay, here. Oakland noise rock brutalists Stress Ape (originally from Chicago, and counting one of the dudes from aQ favorites Cave among their ranks) pound out a nihilistic, two-sided Neanderthal jam on Time Hard, beating the fuck out of their instruments until you are wrapped up in a suffocating blanket of downtuned, harmonically rich sludge that could go on forever if we had our way. There is a somewhat industrial feel to the record, it's easy to imagine blasting this out of your crumbling, asbestos filled apartment just before the final shitstorm hits and everything burns. The distorted vocals scream out hateful musings in a manner that will surely appeal to fans of Six Finger Satellite and the Load Records roster, and the band itself lurches forward like the Stooges at their most smacked out getting stuck in a tarpit. It's heavy and doomy, no doubt, but certainly not metal... just mean, depraved rock that locks in a groove and stays there for the whole trip. The huge, overblown chunk of noise goes on and on, soon becoming unexpectedly hypnotic, and side 2's version of Time Hard carries the record to its spaced out conclusion, like some mutant dub record being remixed in a tornado. Things continue to pulsate under the oscillations sweeping all over, creating an impenetrable wall of heaviness that will probably have you putting this bastard on for a round two. This band slays, they truly understand the still potent potential of a 7" record, and we're stoked for whatever madness they cook up next.
Six new tracks from these local San Francisco space-rock heavies, a band who have gradually become more aggro and metal than they used to be (hence perhaps the surprisingly gothy graphics and cover painting of this album), making more an more of a connection with the likes of Tarantula Hawk and Yeti. But fans of Kinski will be into this too. Their brand of instrumental, jammy, oft-noisy prog/psych/post -rock (the three Ps!) is just getting better and better. Recorded live with minimal overdubs, just two guitars, bass, "pulse generator" and drums working out the instrumental space-rock angst.
Subimage has gone through quite a remarkable transformation for this third release. Following the very '80s inspired effervescent electro-poppy Etoc and Fruitpacifist, Mainman Chris Campbell has opted for more of a Brit rock approach, and expanded his lone mission into a trio with the addition of bassist Ruba and guitarist Greg. It's still got the thumpin' dancebeat, but Bernal Hill is driven more by snarly electric guitars than burbly synthesizers. That's not even mentioning the vocals. Campbell is sing-sneering up a storm. The big picture is sorta reminiscent of That Petrol Emotion and Primal Scream or the more recent sounds of Radio 4, Franz Ferdinand and The Rapture. Punchy with a lot more attitude.
Subimage mainman Chris Campbell sure loves his synthpop and it shows! This trio's debut is filled with very very '80s rubbery dance pop a la Erasure. Lots of percolating analog synth bloopiness and uncomplicated programmed beats provide the videogame-esque backdrop for the ever so slightly strained male vocals. The songs are actually from 1989 through 1992, but they were re-recorded and remastered much more recently than that (2002 to be exact). Exuberant and fun! Oh and by the way, the cd's mysterious title ETOC is simply the abbreviation of the album's sixth song "Erotic Temptation Of Creation".
Continuing their '80s revivalism, the Bay Area's Subimage issue forth their follow-up to last year's bubbly dance party album, ETOC. The title of the first song is "Dearest Mentor" and we just might guess that the individual who fits that role for Subimage's Chris Campbell is noneother than Vince Clarke, the synth wizard behind Erasure, Yaz and Depeche Mode. Fruitpacifist is filled with more buoyant synth pop in very much the same vein as those aforementioned Brit groups.
Check out the two releases we recently got from the local electronic duo known as Submodern. The first is their full length debut titled Object Oriented Mood Management and the follow-up is this six-song ep called Inner Mission. Submodern craftily construct their tracks from nice bloopy bleepy sequenced synth sounds atop dancefloor-primed programmed beats and basslines. The former are perfect for getting all tripped out to, and the latter keep things groovin' along at an easy-goin' pace.
This EP definitely shows some developments from the duo's debut. Its highlight track is definitely the third one, the moodily atmosphered "Stuck". Despite its title, it's anything but stuck! There's more layers, more textures and generally much more IDM-y action goin' on. The next track "Lurp" continues on that shadowy path. Can't wait to hear where they go from here.
Check out the two releases we recently got from the local electronic duo known as Submodern. One is an ep called Inner Mission and the other is this, their full length debut titled Object Oriented Mood Management. Submodern craftily construct their tracks from nice bloopy bleepy sequenced synth sounds atop dancefloor-primed programmed beats and basslines. The former are perfect for getting all tripped out to, and the latter keep things groovin' along at an easy-goin' pace. The most kinetic of the ten tracks is the eighth "Minimal Angst". A nice little kick amid the mostly chill atmospheres.
On their second album, Subtle (aka Jel and DoseOne also of cLOUDEAD, 13&God and Anticon) appear to have sat themselves right down in the vacant seats between TV On The Radio, Gnarls Barkley, Peeping Tom, heck, maybe even Black Eyed Peas and Outkast too! And they've done so with a rather comfortable ease. For Hero For Fool is a quirkful, good time blender magic of hip hop, pop, funk, soul and film score music. Groovy highlights include "The Mercury Craze" and "The Ends".
We're constantly hearing that the printed newspaper (along with other tactile media like records, books and dvds) are quickly going the way of the dinosaurs. But we don't buy it. Physical media creates sense experiences that can't be articulated quite the same way digitally. Case in point, this beautiful publication by artists Kyle Williams, Matthew Stromberg and Whitney Horn, who have taken the old school newspaper format and made a journal of beautifully printed full page black and white images. Planned to be released quarterly, the first edition of The Sun is taken from a film-based project called "Foss" which was shot in both Iceland and San Francisco and the images capture stills and snippets of narrative text from the film that suggest a poetical rumination on landscape, memory and longing with gloriously printed large format images of mountains and hauntingly shrouded landscapes. We wish all newspapers took such advantage of their print formats to make inspiring images this large and beautiful. Can't wait to see more!
Numbered, ltd. to 250
After several awesome tapes on local black metal tape label Brotherhood Of Light, comes the debut full length cd (don't worry, it's also available on cassette!) from this Bay Area one man band (run by the guy who also heads BoL), and continues on Sunchariot's blackened path, mixing grim black buzz, with blissed out kosmische ambience, infusing raw primitive blackness with washed out shoegaze-y ambience. Right from the go, the sound is all blurred swaths of smeared guitar buzz, and arcing melancholic melodies, and like much of this music, sans the vocals, we're getting into some seriously downright pretty sonic territory, the harsh howled rasps, really the only thing keeping the opening track from drifting into full on blackened bliss out mode. But Warrior Of The Winds is super diverse, delivering super raw pounding black metal grimnity ("Bald Eagles Of Resistance"), alongside mystical avant folk, all echo drenched and mysterious ("Flying Wheel With Lights"), leading into sprawling tranced out black drones, where buzzing riffage is transformed into huge swells of crumbling black riff-shimmer and drumless near-dreaminess ("Sunwheel Of Life Shines White In The Darkest Days"). Some tracks start out hazy and woozily washed out, all clean vocals and warble guitar strum, only to splinter into something equally dreamy, but way more black and buzzy ("The Wood Spirit's Path"), while others unwind gorgeous psychedelic drifts of smoldering spidery distortion drenched melodies over mournful synth shimmer, all meditative and hauntingly tranquil. And in between all of these are blown out blasts of grim black buzz, all woven into a pretty stellar batch of truly transcendental blackness.
Cool bald eagle cover art too!
Sunshine Club's name may suggest upbeat, good cheer music, but no. This is something quite far from that. Forlorn weeping tunes. Slow yearning songs of wonder. This bay area trio makes quiet music graced with sad guitar and keyboards.
Heavy noise-rock from these SF locals.
Super limited tape from this local one man band, who traffics in a sort of folk flecked lo-fi acoustic blackened ambience, all darkly strummed acoustic guitars, shimmering synths, spidery melodies, disembodied voices, whirling atmospheres, the sounds wreathed in reverb, everything just a bit warped and woozy, reminds us a bit of an acoustic ambient version of German black metal weirdos Varghkoghargasmal, a stumbling bit of windswept kosmische drift, that slips easily from hushed mesmer to urgent tension, the sounds unfurling dramatically and cinematically, occasionally slipping into long expanses of spare and sparse, almost chamber music sounding minimalism, but just as often a sprawling bit of chiming strum that sounds like a black metal interlude that blossomed into a full song, lots of soft focus haze and warm tendrils of tape hiss, while the guitars emit soft melodic tangles and blurred gauzy ambience.
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES. Each one hand numbered.
One of three recent releases from this Bay Area black metal / black ambient horde, that make up a part of a loose trilogy, which included the recent Monument Of Decay 12" on Black Horizons (reviewed on the last list, and still available) and continues / culminates with the Become lp, which was originally released in an insanely limited edition on aQ beloved label Auris Apothecary, in the form of a lavishly packaged reel to reel tape. Two sprawling fifteen minutes tracks, maybe SH's most abstract work to date, where other records displayed a distinct delineation between the atmospheric movements, and the buzzing black sections, no such separation exists here, with each track/side, existing as a single sonic ritual, the group's black buzz, smeared into blurred squalls of washed out noise, heaving swells of abject industrial thrum, buried vocals, oozing riffage, buried rhythms, according to the band Become was specifically created to inspire madness through repetition, a tranced out minimal/maximal cloud of roiling black sound. Playable at 45 or 33, both deliver a similar experience, although we are of course partial to the slower speed, which causes the sounds to grow even more indistinct and blurred out, a heaving, tarpit doom-drone that oozes from the speakers. But even at 45, this is more noise than black metal, a near psychedelic blacknoise, the A side featuring some seriously rib cage rattling low end, and when the noisiness abates, the sonic clouds part revealing some haunting beauty, tangled melodies and almost shoegazey textures, lurking just below the surface, eventually building back up to a dense death march crawl, more of a ghostly drift actually, the sound shedding low end, gradually growing more and more brittle, until at the finish its nearly Merzbowian white noise. The B side delivers more of the same, shadowed beauty, beneath cloud of demon breath vokills, of keening ur-drone shimmer, crumbling Caretaker-like atmospheres, occasional gouts of face melting howl and crush, but those moments are balanced by brief passages of sublime sonically tarnished beauty, that drifts darkly through the ether, before being obliterated by one final blast of speaker shredding blacknoise crush.
LIMITED TO 351 COPIES!! Packaged in swank Stoughton style tip-on jackets with super striking metallic gold offset printed cover art.
Latest black sonic ritual from this SF trio (formerly duo), and like the last record, Larvae, which came out on Handmade Birds, Behind The Throne continues the group's evolution away from the blacknoise that defined their earlier sound. As we mentioned in our review of Larvae, the band seemed to spend a surprising amount of their time lately not blasting or buzzing, instead, conjuring up some surprisingly lovely ambience, and that's true here too, although the ambience here is less shimmery and abstract, and more like some sort of blackened dronescapery, thick swaths of guitar buzz, and dense swells of processed vocals, creating something that's both haunting and hypnotic, dense and intense, it's not really until about 7 minutes into the first track (which fills up the whole first side of the vinyl), that the band finally do unleash some black metal, but when they do, it's a dense blurred buzz, so blurred and blown out it almost sounds more droney and washed out than grim and heavy, but the crazy thing is, the band haven't even started, as a couple minutes later, they somehow explode again, the sound splintering into a weird almost industrial sounding black chug, a grinding, howling maelstrom of black buzz and churning psychedelia, that quickly fades out leaving just a long stretch of crumbling noise, distant vocals, tolling bells, and crackling staticky ambience.
The second track / B side is another sprawling epic, this time bookended by some creepy industrial ambience, what sounds like jangling chains, plenty of rumbles and creaking high end, all smeared into a blackened ur-drone, soon guitars drift in, but not riffs, more like black chordal clouds, that hover darkly, before finally coalescing into proper riffs, but like the first track, the riffs are so distorted and blown out, the 'black metal' here is more of a blackdrone blur, that even with headphones reveals very little of what's going on in Sutekh's roiling black soundworld, the guitars murky and muddy one second, harsh and caustic the next, the vocals a buried bellow, and if there are drums, they're buried so low they just add to the general cacophony. The track churns and chugs, and at one point sounds almost like a sonic approximation of a locomotive, clattery and industrial, but still wreathed in a swirling blackbuzz fog, before the blackness dissipates, leaving just the strange ritualistic ambience that opened the track.
Super swank packaging, full color photos of some sort of altar ritual, candles and chalices and knives, all wreathed in shadow, with all the texted printed in a clear reflective spot varnish.
Latest blast of blurred blacknoise brutality from this SF duo, whose records seem to disappear in a heartbeat, every one a ridiculously limited microedition, this new 7" no different, already sold out and out of print, we got 20 copies, and will most likely not be able to get more.
Which is a shame, cuz this is maybe SH's most melodic and distinctly black metal record yet. Frantic riffing beneath super distorted vox, a blurred tranced out almost blacknoisedrone, until the drums kick in, but when they do, it's less like a blastbeat, and more like another layer of blurred low end buzz, the guitars churning relentlessly within a cloud of black/white noise, super repetitive and cyclical, but the melodies continue to seep through, mournful and minor key, buried beneath thick swaths of roiling blackness, the sound murky and muddy and surprisingly warm for being as intense and blackened as it is.
The flipside is another surprise, all echoey and industrial, more processed vokills, this time though draped over clean guitar strum and a clattery machine like rhythm, the overall vibe brooding and downright doomy, a sort of creepy black ambient industrial maybe? There's an even more surprising second half, laced with clean, post rock-ish guitars, some death march ultradoom plod and creepy, cinematic piano-like melodies, the oozes and drifts darkly before disappearing in a haze of Merzbow worthy buzz, a thick swirling cloud of roiling blackness.
LIMITED TO 253 COPIES!! We have less than 20, so grab one before they're gone...
Now with an expanded lineup, and several tours under their collective belts, this Bay Area black metal / noise outfit offer up their latest missive, their sound continuing to evolve, their mix of blurred noise drenched black buzz and haunting atmospheric ambience skewing toward the former big time.
The opening track introduces Sutekh Hexen at their noisiest, the initial stretch of washed out buzzing blackness giving way to pure face melting black noise, unrelenting and devastating. Which is a bit of foreshadowing, as this might be the group's noisiest record as a whole, at least since their earliest recordings, which is surprising as the last few records found the band growing more and more melodic.
The rest of the side unwinds in blasts of corrosive noise, this time underpinned by low drones and chant like vox, adding some melody and color, however subtle, to the proceedings, everything burred into a Tim Hecker-ish haze. Side one closes with a blast of extremely harsh black metal, the buzz and any semblance of riffage, nearly buried beneath an avalanche of grinding psychedelic noise.
The B side lets Sutekh Hexen flex those soundscaping muscles, at least briefly, opening with a stretch of droned out thrum, a soft black swirl, drifting ominously, only to disappear in a squall of torrential blackness, a wild roiling black hole of sound, that eventually dissipates, allowing the harsh vokills to slip to the fore, then the buried rhythms, but again, it all bleeds into an extended sprawl of black metal murk, woozy and blown out, blurry and dense, trailing off into a cloud of grim black energy.
Killer cd reissue of the recent singles collection, Empyraisch, from local blacknoise/black metal outfit Sutek Hexen, which includes a bonus 3"cd-r with an exclusive unreleased 20 minute track! More on that in a second, first, here's what we had to say about Empyraisch when we reviewed the lp version:
Empyraisch is a compilation of sorts, gathering up all the tracks from Sutekh Hexen's super insanely limited and long out of print 7"s from the last couple years, as well as a rare compilation track or two. We'd imagine most of you were like us, and were unable to snag any of those rare 7"s, or perhaps only managed to track down one or two, so this should still be of interest to even the most obsessive SH fans, but fair warning to the folks who did manage to get em all. For the rest of is though, this is a godsend (devilsend?)...
This Bay Area black metal / noise outfit dig deep into the crypt for these grim blacknoize rarities, a gloriously dizzying mix of blurred noise drenched black buzz and haunting atmospheric ambience... The opening track introduces Sutekh Hexen at their noisiest, the initial stretch of washed out buzzing blackness giving way to pure face melting black noise, unrelenting and devastating. Which is a bit of foreshadowing, since this collection obviously represents the group at their noisiest and grimmest. The record continues to unwind with blasts of corrosive noise, this time underpinned by low drones and chant like vox, adding some melody and color, however subtle, to the proceedings, everything blurred into a Tim Hecker-ish haze. The first half closes with a blast of extremely harsh black metal, the buzz and any semblance of riffage, nearly buried beneath an avalanche of grinding psychedelic noise.
After that, Sutekh Hexen flex those soundscaping muscles, at least briefly, opening with a stretch of droned out thrum, a soft black swirl, drifting ominously, only to disappear in a squall of torrential blackness, a wild roiling black hole of sound, that eventually dissipates, allowing the harsh vokills to slip to the fore, then the buried rhythms, but again, it all bleeds into an extended sprawl of black metal murk, woozy and blown out, blurry and dense, trailing off into a cloud of grim black energy.
This reissue tacks on the 20 minute "The Power To Condemn", which opens with some seriously ominous abject ambience, swirling winds, some creepy scraping (bones dragged on stone?), creaking, rumbles, all laced with strange sonic shimmer, soon voices drift in, demonic whispers, in the distance keening feedback, we were steeling ourselves for the band to launch into some caustic black buzz, but it never happens, this is all ambient, although about halfway through, some deep low end thrum surfaces, pocked with strange pulsations, and eventually, some proper buzz swoops in, but it's way low in the mix, sounding off in the distance, not black buzz so much as glacial tar pit ooze, downtuned rumbles, slo-mo riffage bleeding into black blurs, a SUNNO)))-like dirge, which soon blossoms into something blacker and noisier, a swirling squall of harrowing, hellish howls and churning blackness, darkly psychedelic and hauntingly harsh, the sounds seem to melt and fade before our ears, gradually settling into a low level feedback drenched thrum, before finally fading out completely.
Swank packaging too, housed in an oversized black matte envelope, sealed with a printed sticker, inside, two printed inserts, and two printed clear plastic transparencies, probably SUPER LIMITED too, so don't dawdle...
The sound of this Bay Area blackmetal / blacknoise duo-turned-trio continues to evolve, and in surprising directions on this, their latest in a flurry of extremely limited releases over the last year. Beginning life as purveyors of dense speaker shredding noise, informed by, but not necessarily sounding much like, black metal, it seemed more a case of black metal riffs buried beneath sheets of white noise and crumbling industrial detritus, and blast beats recorded on a crappy cassette tape and played back through a Walkman, and again, buried beneath a punishing wall of sound. But with every record, the sounds seem more composed, perhaps less antagonizingly harsh, with more time spent creating atmospheres and ambience, than actually buzzing and blasting, which again is the case on Larvae. The opening track, begins with 3+ minutes of shimmery ominous ambience, laced with strange insectoid clicks, the guitars, when they do surface, unfurl soft strummed streaks of chordal whir, beneath which lush swells undulate drowsily, it's at about the 4 minute mark, that the song splinters, and explodes in a dense blurred barrage of furious murky black buzz, that while heavy, is also soft focus enough that it nearly has more in common with Tim Hecker or folks like that, until the group crank up the sound once again, and it becomes full on black metal, that lasts less than a minute, and the band return to the haunting drift that opened the record, before one final time, blasting through the last two minutes, the guitars a black blur, the vocals a fierce monstrous bellow, the drums, if there are any, buried in the mix, a heaving wash of noise drenched heaviness, that manages to be massive, but still weirdly textural.
The relatively brief second track applies the group's corrosive crunch and black atmospheres to something much more dirgey and dismal, a churning industrial tinged creep, the sounds blown out and in-the-red, a tangle of black noise / white noise and industrial crush somehow sculpted into a lumbering black doom, peppered with squalls of blaring FX drenched ear shredding skree, but also underpinned by all manner of layered drones and disembodied voices.
The final track, clocks in at a whopping 15 minutes, and again, finds the band easing into it, unfurling a hushed bit of blackened dronescaping, again flecked with strange clicks and skitterings, the guitars drift in, this time sounding like some sort of Appalachia, draped over streaks of muted crumbling crunch, the song sprawling out into an epic chunk of black folk drift, tangled voices, swirls of hiss and thrum, all wreathing the steel string buzz of the acoustic guitar, until at about the ten minute mark, everything is swallowed up by an avalanche of frenzied black buzz and frantic riffing, so dense and tangled that again, sans headphones the riffs all bleed into one thick roiling cloud of sound, eventually coalescing into an almost classic metal sounding chug, a murky hypnotic dirge that churns malevolently to the record's end.
Both the cd and the lp come in super swank, and gorgeously designed packaging, the artwork abstract in all blacks and greys, with the text printed in clear spot varnish ink, designed by Sutekh Hexen member Kevin Gan Yuen and Dwid Hellion from hardcore legends Integrity. The cd is limited to 500 copies, the lp is already sold out and out of print, so these are the last vinyl copies we'll be able to get...
Finally, the debut full length from this Bay Area black metal / blacknoise duo, who in recent months have garnered a whole lot of hype, based on a flurry of killer (albeit insanely limited) releases, and a recent West Coast tour, which found the duo playing outside of the Bay Area for the first time ever. And while we've raved about everything we could get our hands on from these guys, this is definitely the band's finest moment, albeit, weirdly their least noisy. But noisiness is all relative. Cuz this is still plenty noisy, it's just compared to some of their previous releases, and their blistering liver performances, this stuff is far removed from that black metal Merzbow sonic attack that defined their early days.
Here, the noise takes a backseat to the black metal, which is actually a good thing, the riffing, and prerecorded blast beats, weaving a woozy washed out buzzscape, which on their own, would make the sound a sort of soft focus Wold, all washed out and blackly buzzy, but over this blackened foundation, the duo add heapings of noise, the vocals, processed to oblivion, sound like gouts of white hot buzz, more guitars, extra layers of blackness, it's as if the black metal core is at the center of a swirling cloud of jagged, caustic blacknoise, the two seeming to function independently for the most part, but the band create dramatic dynamics with the twisted mix, which finds, various elements dropping out, only to erupt and explode back into action moments later, or the black metal riffing getting fused to the blacknoise creating a harsh wall of sound, which just as quickly separates leaving the blast and buzz to pound furiously, shadowed by streaks of hiss and hum, the sounds dramatically stereo panned too for further twisted effect.
The stretches of ambience are darkly effective, as are the weirdly mournful clean guitar parts, the band obviously capable of creating mood and mystery, and when the buzz kicks in, none of that mood or mystery is lost, instead, it's absorbed into the frenzied black chaos which transforms the sound into something more than noise, more than black metal, it's a darkly epic, strangely textured assemblage of buzz and blast, howl and pound, the sound a living black entity, sonic chaos given form, this is the real transcendental black metal, all should be worshipping before the altar of the priests of Sutekh Hexen.
LIMITED TO 350 COPIES!!!
The latest from this local black metal / black ambient outfit is part three in an unofficial trilogy of releases, and captures the band in their brief tenure as a four piece, complete with live drummer (they're back to a trio, now drum machine driven), although even live drummer-ed, they group's overall M.O. remains the same, crafting gorgeously lush expanses of grim psychedelic black ambience, and face melting blasts of noise drenched black buzz, that black buzz given a bit more heft here with the live drums. But unlike on past record, where the atmospheric intro would lead to an explosive blast of blackness, the four songs here are each self contained, and display some of the most experimental work from the band yet. Opener "Lastness", is a creepy, organ driven swirl of blackened shimmer and strange demonic vocalizations, the main melody looped maniacally and played on what sounds like an old children's organ, that melody buried under layers of grit and grime, and a chorus of ghostly voices, the whole thing gradually blissing out into a strange bit of abstract drift, processed vox and minimal percussion. Which leads directly into "Of Emanation", which finds SH making a noisy black mess, the live drums blown out, the vocals even more blown out, everything wrapped in thick sheets of in-the-red guitar buzz, the whole track laced with some twisted/warped production, the whole sound becoming muted and murky for a few seconds only to explode again moments later, stretches of almost white noise static, the various instruments drifting in and out, just drums and noise one second, just guitar the next, everything cranked to almost Merzbow-ic proportions the next.
"Dhumavatis Hunger" is all power electronics gristle, underpinned by deep Teutonic rumbles, and wreathed in clouds of swirling static, and blasts of distorted crunch, extremely noisy, with some surprising melodies surfacing beneath all that chaotic noise, the sounds coalescing into something weirdly songlike, albeit still doused in blown out distorted crumble, an epic and majestic slab of blacknoise, that eventually reveals some insectoid guitar buzz lurking beneath the surface, everything gradually getting lost in one final squall of speaker shredding sonic howl. And finally, "Dakhma", begins as a hushed drift, gradually gaining momentum (and volume), but instead of bursting into black metal buzz, the sounds seem to soar, a slow build to something ominously epic, a sort of grim black Godspeed, darkly and harrowingly lovely, building to a seriously noisy coda, before once again fading out, leaving a sky full of blackened sonic contrails.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!! Packaged in super swank full color jackets, printed in metallic ink, and including a full color printed insert.
This local black metal / drone-noise duo have been cranking out recordings like crazy, not that you would ever know it, as all of them were released as lavishly packaged, outrageously limited cassettes (and all in batches of something like 50 copies). Finally, the band seem to be making waves beyond the WAY underground, and a comprehensive reissue campaign is under way, as well as a whole spate of about-to-drop new releases. But THIS, this is the first recording we've been able to get from these guys to list, and fans of noise drenched blackness, and super distorted psychedelic heaviness will be in heaven (hell?). A blasting, blown out, ultraviolent blend of raw, primitive black metal buzz, dense drones, lysergic psychedelic atmosphere and caustic abrasive blacknoise, these two tracks require iron ears, a black soul and preferably some headphones to get lost in SH's bizarre black cacophony.
"Bled Thy Likeness" is a blurred and muted expanse of crackly, staticky black thrum, murky and muddy, a writhing, swirling sprawl of hazy washed out minor key riffage, laced with streaks of soaring guitars woven into a background of distorted black ambience, eventually exploding into a whitenoise drenched blast of heaving, crumbling, ultra distorted blackdrone crush, hellish shrieked vokills smeared into undulating sheets of Merzbowian buzz, all underpinned by a haunting monkish chantlike melody, adding a strange bit of melancholy mystery to the harsh hellish buzz.
"Murmur" is just as intense, a wild frenzied blown out assault of fierce and fucked up blacknoise chaos, the shrieked vox distorted and processed into another layer of furious buzz, tangled up in the frenzied berserker riffing, the whole sound a twisted, gnarled tangle of face melting, ear shredding, soul shearing fury, the song somehow blossoming part way through into something subtly more melodic, the blacknoisebuzz and grim black-blast infused with a strangely lush and warm melodic undercurrent, a deep sonic swell, rife with epic black metal majesty, but nearly suffocated by the caustic clouds of brittle buzz and in-the-red roar overhead.
LIMITED TO 400 COPIES. Super striking, thick black and white jackets, and printed on nice heavy vinyl...
This latest batch of tapes from local label Merz Tapes finds the label expanding and rebranding, now known as Merzbild, and no longer limiting themselves to cassettes. It is however this most recent batch of cassettes we're here to discuss. In this case, it's this collaboration between SF black metal / blacknoise outfit Sutekh Hexen, and long time Nurse With Wound collaborator Andrew Liles.
There would be a time when Liles remixing a black metal band would seem crazy, but the fact is that at this point, SH are really only tangentially black metal, as they spend much of their time weaving dense dronescapes, or sculpting bursts of feral ear splitting noise into tense and intense walls of blown out sound, granted, there's still plenty of blast and buzz, but it's often obfuscated and recontextualized. Each side of this tape seems to offer up both the original track, and then Liles' reworking. On the A side, SH unfurl a dense blurred rumble, peppered with muted bombastic thuds, and subterranean pulses, buried voices, and a tranced out sprawl of undulating layers, blacks and greys, haunting and harrowing, a sound that's bleak and abject, the perfect launching point for Liles, who takes that track and stretches it from a little under 6 minutes, to almost 18, making the focal point a haunting, reverbed piano, drifting in soft billowing clouds of what we take to be the original track, letting the occasional drum blat leap out, or spidery tendrils of industrial buzz, gnarled tangles of voices speaking in tongues, and then suddenly, at about 10 minutes in, the song is transformed into what sounds like a sort of industrial rock? Chugging metallic guitars, big drums, all over that churning Sutekh brood, there's even some psychedelic guitar leads, unclear if somehow those sounds were buried in the original track, or if Liles just went nuts and essentially turned SH, at least briefly, into a weird industrial metal band, but then suddenly, it all fades away, leaving the track to slither ominously to the end, trailing a cloud of buzzing detritus in its wake. Wow.
The flipside finds SH exploding right out of the gate with a blurred blast of black buzz, murky and swirling and dizzyingly dense, before settling into another long sprawl of black ambient drift, much more haunting, abstract and serene. And again Liles takes SH's 5 minutes and more than doubles it, the whole thing, a brooding blackened driftscape, the tones oozing and rife with what sounds like some sort of demonic chorale, a blurred black raga, laced with sheets of harsh noise, jagged shards of processed vocal hiss, building to an impossibly dense and noisy, speaker destroying crescendo, that sounds like multiple Herman Nitsch compositions playing at once, atonal, droned out, and weirdly mesmerizing, underpinned by what sounds like organ or calliope, the vibe very cinematic, the sound collapses into a cacophony of smashing bottles, before beginning the slow build again, this time to a blown out, smeary drone, seemingly constructed from the blast and buzz of the original, but here recast as something more Tim Hecker like, massive crumbling distorted swells, and granular sheets of sound rife with melodic murk, gradually collapsing into a strange stuttering digital freakout, and one final burst of smashing glass.
Super sweet packaging, printed silver-on-smoky-clear tapes, reflective silver on swirly green and black J-cards.
