This single actually came out before the recent III lp, but we only now managed to get our hands on enough copies to list. When it did pop up a few months ago, it was the first anyone had heard from these guys after a fairly long silence. And while we've already raved about III, this single was a welcome return. The weird thing is that this single seems to be the last hurrah of the OLD Eat Skull, total shitgaze bliss, urgently strummed acoustic guitars, stumbling drum pound, wild squalls of psychedelic guitar noise, yowled vocals, goofy lyrics, all wrapped around some pretty crazy catchy melodies, in a way it's the perfect link between the noisier off kilter Eat Skull of the past and the more polished poppiness of III. The first track on the B side definitely sounds like with a little polish it would have fit perfectly on III, but here it's delivered in all its raw, low fidelity glory, and it sounds as good as ever. And the second track on the B side is from a Volar records label comp, and definitely displays a softer side of Eat Skull, all Casio drum machine, shimmery acoustic guitar, lilting melody, really pretty.
All in all, a pretty killer single from a band we dig a lot, and considering it's been out for a while, best grab one quick before they're gone for good!
Something happened to Eat Skull on the way to making Wild And Inside. It seems like only yesterday we were extolling their ramshackle fucked up-ness, their last record Sick To Death, a serious bid to rule the burgeoning 'shit-gaze' scene, populated by folks like Times New Viking, Psychedelic Horseshit, and similarly fucked up noisepop deconstructionists. So we were sort of expecting Wild And Inside to be even MORE damaged and fractured, fucked up and noisy, but instead, it's jam packed with perfect pop gems, lo-fi for sure, and definitely still ramshackle, but jangly and catchy and dripping with irresistible hooks.
Similar to how Further worshipped unabashedly at the altar of the Beach Boys on their Golden Grimes record, on Wild And Inside, Eat Skull seem to be flitting from pop group to pop group, whether it's Guided By Voices, the Lemonheads, Strapping Fieldhands, dour eighties new wave or those Nuggets psych pop collections, it seems like the band spent all the time between records just absorbing all sorts of nineties indie rock, old school jangle pop, classic power pop, and whatever else they could lay their ears on, and now they're just letting it all sort of ooze out, and in the process they've most definitely made it their own.
In interviews, Eat Skull frontman Rob Enbom claims, this is what they were shooting for all along, that the first record sounded the way it did because they were broke and were stuck with super shitty equipment, and while that may be true to a certain extent, there's some seriously superior pop smithery happening on Wild And Inside, it's not hard to imagine what this record might have sounded like with all the grit and grime cleared away, and if they had recorded in a real studio, but who the hell would want to hear that? Eat Skull sound fine just the way they are, noisy and poppy and sloppy and lo-fi, every song a gorgeously hook filled sunshine-y effects laden fractured and fuzzy noise pop gem.
Folks who were into the sheer mayhem and caustic crumbling noise damage of the first record might be a bit disappointed, but so what, there's plenty of that to be found elsewhere these days, for the rest of us, it's kind of refreshing to get a glimpse of the pop magic so often obscured.
Now on vinyl, once again! England's snotty teenage first-generation punks get their due with this nice vinyl reissue of their insanely enjoyable album, The Album. Never the smartest of the punk scene (they literally were snotty little teens), the band still possessed undeniable songwriting chops, influenced by the glammy side of Bowie, the Velvet Underground, and the rest of the usual suspects. Above all, Eater are super charged and out of control fun, and the boundless enthusiasm of their work has held up surprisingly well over the years.
Here's our review of the cd reissue that came out last year:
Maybe not the most important nor most influential '77 punk band from the UK, no, but definitely one of our personal all time faves! And Eater were both one of the earliest (forming in '76, debuting with a single in March '77) and youngest (they were literally schoolboys, their drummer Dee Generate was only 13 years old!). That's pretty punk, innit? Being snotty and pissed off wasn't a problem for them. Neither was writing high energy, highly catchy tunes that usually did the dirty deed in under two minutes, tops. Gotta love the poppy punk power of tracks like "Public Toys", "Room For One", and their age-adjusted Alice Cooper cover, "Fifteen". They also covered tracks by T-Rex, David Bowie, and the Velvet Underground, always infusing 'em with their own teenaged punk 'tude. Which admittedly (and not unexpectedly, giving their age/testosterone combo) gets a little un-PC on their own "Get Raped", though that's still a catchy number too... Maybe you've heard the Sex Pistols a few too many times, but probably not Eater.
Maybe not the most important nor most influential '77 punk band from the UK, no, but definitely one of our personal all time faves! And Eater were both one of the earliest (forming in '76, debuting with a single in March '77) and youngest (they were literally schoolboys, their drummer Dee Generate was only 13 years old!). That's pretty punk, innit? Being snotty and pissed off wasn't a problem for them. Neither was writing high energy, highly catchy tunes that usually did the dirty deed in under two minutes, tops. Gotta love the poppy punk power of tracks like "Public Toys", "Room For One", and their age-adjusted Alice Cooper cover, "Fifteen". They also covered tracks by T-Rex and the Velvet Underground, always infusing 'em with their own teenaged punk 'tude. Which admittedly (and not unexpectedly, giving their age/testosterone combo) gets a little un-PC on their own "Get Raped", though that's still a catchy number too...
They're all here, 'cause this comprehensive Eater anthology consists of their album, The Album, and a bonus disc collecting their singles cuts. Maybe you've heard the Sex Pistols a few too many times, but probably not Eater. We're pretty stoked to have this new reissue to recommend. Get it!!
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Wow! Some sorta transformation has taken place with this band in the couple of years since their last release, the 2003 Mur Murs ep. They're definitely much more confident, complex and dynamic, and these developments are made more than apparent right from the get-go. Indeed, you need look/hear no further that the excellent lead-off track "Sonorous", but of course with such tantalizing edgy pop sounds you'll want to! It's a lengthy number (subsectioned into "Time To Echolocate" and "Ear Of The Other") that effectively presents the many facets of the band. They've veered away from they're former Chicago post-rock scene leanings, into something more un-pinpointable. Their increased attention to song structures and arrangements do much to define a sound of their own. Like an agile juggler they keep their atmospheres, time signature shifts and multi-part vocals aloft. Speaking of which, the vocals are definitely a key ingredient in Ebb & Flow's magic. The wonderful soaring female vocals contrast nicely with the male ones which approach a moody, withery Interpol-ness. Pretty darn great!
A short six-song introduction to this new SF band. This half dozen has a definite Chicago jazzy post-rock feel with some great horn accents, interesting textural details and arrangements. There's a nice vocal contrast from song to song too: breathy yet strong female leads on one, yearning, slouchy male voice takes over on another, a very Exene/John Doe-ish interplay on yet another. Me thinks, The Ebb And Flow would fit perfectly on a bill with Mates Of State and/or Call & Response (if they haven't already!). Very nice.
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Indeed! Similar to labelmates Sigh, if only in that their take on "black metal" is as qually bizarre as that of those Japanese horror-masters. Ebony Lake, though, hails from England, and have a twisted, absinthe-fueled musical vision, making songs with suprisingly chaotic structures not unlike some sort of Gothic Voivod!
Here comes another lost gem from Brazil. This time it's from 1970 by a group led by the thrilling piano playing of Luiz Eca (who was in Tamba Trio / Tamba 4). This is dazzling and bright dynamic pop swimming in samba, African rhythms, and an undying pep that radiates throughout the recording. Joining Eca is a cast of 13 adding an onslaught of sounds and voices to the affair. The seven minute opener "Homen Da Sucurasal /Barravento" is one of the best lead off tracks we've ever heard! Catchy, bizarre and all the right and unexpected twists and turns. As the record plays out its samba roots are explored. On it, and throughout the album you can hear hints of the sounds of many bands that would came decades later like Stereolab and White Magic, of course all drenched in a samba vibe that would make Sergio Mendes proud.
Another new list, another new dream pop offering from Slumberland, this one from a UK outfit called Echo Lake, whose sounds, as befitting the label they call home, hovers somewhere between the gauzy slowcore reverb drenched jangle of Galaxie 500 and something much more abstract and ethereal, a sort of 4AD via My Bloody Valentine by way of Brian Wilson / Phil Spector. The opener is some pitch perfect dream pop drift, all hazy layered vocals, swirling soft focus harmonies, angelic and softly spectral, driven by a barely audible rhythmic pulse, and wound up in a crystalline latticework of spidery guitar melodies, and muted softly distorted buzz, in fact that track's more like an intro, just letting us know what these folks are capable of, but instead of offering up a seriously experimental slab of shoegaze abstraction, they dole out that stuff judiciously (for the most part), instead, weaving it into a more standard Slumberland style pop, simple spare drumming, reverby drifts of soft focus guitar, and those gorgeous ethereal vox. But then right when you think you have a handle on their sound, they unleash something like the title track, which channels Stereolab through the Teenage Filmstars, a warm whirring organ, drifting over a thick distorted drone, peppered with trippy backwards rhythms, the vocals weightless, warm swaths of gauziness laid over the already blurred dreamscape, and so it goes for the rest of the record, all the dream poppy things we love about Slumberland bands, given a sort of psychedelic makeover, slipping easily from dream pop, to surprisingly rocking shoegaze blowouts, and from swirly psychedelic experiments and back again. So nice!!
This Czech Republic ensemble made a big stir in the early '90s with a number of exceptional shoe-gazer singles on par with the best Creation work from Ride and Slowdive, but dissappeared from the hipster radar after a questionable ambient-techno album. "In Dust 3" marks Ectacy Of St. Theresa's first album in nearly a decade, and finds them eclectically mixing the dark synth pop sheen
Whew. Two guys, two guitars, all instrumental, kinda fast and spazzy, also trying hard to be light and pretty. It's sorta mathy and, yes, sunshiney. A cutesily maddening half-hour or so of electric guitars, just guitars, frantic and sprightly. By/for indie rockers who dig such bands as Deerhoof, Heavy Vegetable and Hella, and who like to drink lots of coffee with lots of sugar.
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First of all, be warned, these took nearly six months to show up from Sweden; and we will most likely not be restocking these when we sell out of this batch, or if we do, it could very well take ANOTHER six months. But back in the late summer of 2011, we caught wind of what seemed like a really fascinating piece of damaged, witchy pop narcotic from the Swedish sisters Nadine and Tanya Byrne (aka Ectoplasm Girls). Shortly, there after, The Wire raved about the album; and then we simply waited for the box to show... Fortunately for a lucky few of you, that box did indeed finally arrive!
The Byrne sisters could very well be ghosts from the mid-80s cassette culture of DIY electronics, industrial antipathy, and corrosive psychedelia. As half-formed / half-forgotten songs of deconstructed piano, looped abstractions, and bad vibes, the Ectoplasm Girls arrangements aren't too dissimilar from those that Zola Jesus primitively sketched on her earliest recordings. Like Zola Jesus, voice is also key to the hauntological pop that the Ectoplasm Girls create, although they take it in an entirely different direction. At times, they adopt a baby-faced atonal lunacy with shrill lullabies above their murky tunes, abstracted rhythms, and macabre electronics; and at others, they utter mantras in dull monotone as if these strangely seductive passages were culled from their own exorcisms. "Sexodrome" takes all the right cues from Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire, with vocal fragments orbiting a skeletal rhythmic plod that's all gotta reference Cronenberg in some way shape or form. It's too creepy not to! A blast of hurricane noise launches "If Your Mother Asks" which surges forward through driving techno stomp akin to TG's ceaseless march "Discipline" and complementary slashes of noise and vocal gaspings.
If we thought we could get more, we might expound more on the subject of the Ectoplasm Girls; but as it stands, we've got less than a dozen. So, delay now and perhaps delay forever.
Eddie The Rat is a 12 piece art-rock / choral ensemble from San Francisco, arriving at a sloppy psychedelic ceremonial music and with plenty of post-industrial / Burning Man / San Francisco 'Fringe' overtones and purposefully oblique verbal conundrums and
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Cd reish of an early-'80s self released exotic-cult-folk-primitive-rock lp, from a guy who's been part of the Sun City Girls mythos since their days in Arizona...features James from Paris 1942, Charlie & Alan from the Sun City Girls, and Mary & Dan from Victory Acres.
While just about everything Holy Mountain puts out is awesome they also tend to focus on the heavier side of the underground musical landscape. With this debut by Eden Express they're showing their softer side, while managing to keep the awesomeness on full throttle! There would be no other time for this record to get released then smack dab in the midst of summer as this is some sun-soaked-tripped-out-bake-at-the-beach-psych-pop that we can't get enough of. Featuring one member of Cloudland Canyon, this is a group who understand how to evoke colorful and vivid sensations. Mixing Eastern tinged psychedelia with delicious hints of washed out samba with such an effortless and breezy delivery. This is a timeless sounding record that could just as easily be some lost early '70s South American psychedelic gem (which the cover design suggests) as much as a much more drugged out Antena or Brightblack Morning Light jamming on the beach with some Finnish folks like Lau Nau and Islaja at their side. Such delicious delay and reverb, just the right touches of flute and otherworldliness, and it's about time psych gets out of the forest and onto the sand. A record made to soak in sun and melt with.
The minute we first heard this band we knew we had to track this record down and review it. Unfortunately we also knew that we would probably never be able to do it justice with mere words. One of those bands you just NEED to hear. This now disbanded (only temporarily we hope) UK combo manage to combine the impossibly dense chaotic metallic fury of Converge with the expansive epic wonder of bands like Godspeed You Black Emperor and Explosions In The Sky. Doesn't necessarily seem like a good fit, but oh it couldn't sound more perfect. And Eden Maine do more than just ape their influences, they take those sounds and twist them into something at once familiar and recognizable but at the same time completely original and compellingly and brilliantly fucked up. Extended tracks dense with super complex parts, stop start weirdness, delicate melodies, wildly squiggly riffing, some of the most insane and brilliant drumming we've heard in forever, bizarre guitar interplay, lots of heavy parts strangely underpinned with haunting ambience, even occasional vocal harmonies, it's the sort of record that leaves you completely exhausted, the whole record rife with slow building post rock epics, that slowly twist and change into furious blasts of metallic vitriol, which sometimes build and build even further, pushing the limit of how heavy a band can get until they just implode, but just as often the songs drift into wide open stretches of glistening melodies and quietly propulsive post rock. Eden Maine definitely fit within the new breed of post rock metal bands (Conifer, Tides, Baroness, Isis, Indian, the Ocean, etc.) but EM somehow manage to make the heavier parts even heavier, the epic parts even more epic. It's a little ineffable, but there's something about this band and this record, that make the whole thing just so goddamn great.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Here's another one to add to the list of stellar '60s/'70s Turkish psych-rock reissues, along with Erkin Koray, 3 Hur-el, and Mogollar! From '75 or '76, Edip Akbayram & Dostlar are very '70s indeed...it's much more of a severe collision between the trad. folk tunes and the Western electric rock than some of those groups. The very first track might throw you for a loop, but past that sappy, poppy number with its soft-rock strings and horns and tinkling piano, this record suddenly gets a whole lot rockier, heavier, and funkier. Imagine an Anatolian Pop score for some groovy car-chase flick...the schlocky, sizzling vintage '70s synths enhance the kitsch value and sound good amidst the traditional ethnic instrumention (arranged by one of the Mogollar guys). Edip and Dostlar dish out the hard rock and funk with a groovy bottom end, psych guitar riffage, Edip's powerful vocals and wah-wah augmented Turkish saz. With proggy weirdness like flute attacks and studio tape speed manipulation, this is some bad-ass 'exotica' for sure. Anyone addicted to the Middle Eastern psych rock scene-sound from back in the hazy day like we are will find this a fine addition to their collection. Includes 4 bonus tracks quite like the album cuts. Real cool.
This week brought us a gathering of sumptuous dark pop albums from around the globe which all fit together incredibly well! Sure to keep you completely soothed and enchanted: this Edison Woods album, Come Up For Air by the Norwegian trio known as The White Birch and Leaving Songs the soon-to-be-released solo album by Tindersticks' Stuart Staples (we got an advance listenin' copy, but rest assured it's comin' out June 6th).
A hushed hurrah! The very welcome third Edison Woods full length has arrived hot off the presses and direct to us from the group in New York. We're pleased as punch to find that Ms Julia Frodahl and co. continue to craft immensely moving artful music, and this time they're joined by members of Antony & The Johnsons and Elysian Fields. The album is yet another treasure trove of ornate luminous beauties with each track glimmering out of the velvety darkness with a light all its own. Once again the ensemble's approach is very cinematic, but perhaps growing a bit more song-oriented than it was on past releases. Almost imperceptibly the pieces flow from barely-there utterly minimal passages to sweeping grand orchestrations. Additionally in comparison to their previous two fine albums (self-titled and Seven Principles Of Leave No Trace), Nest Of Machines' soaring highs and lulling lows seem even much more pronounced, but remain anchored to the heart by central force and lead vocalist Frodahl's silken voice and resonant piano accompaniment. So lush and haunting are the tones and hues that it's like being enveloped in a dream state wandering by candlelight inside a giant antique music box. Sure many artists' music gets likened to that of music boxes primarily for their delicate chime-iness, but few so fully embody the genuine wonder of those meticulously crafted, timeless inventions as Edison Woods does. Supremely beguiling.
Hurrah! Edison Woods, the Brooklyn-based aural/visual art assembly led by Ms Julia Frodahl, have crafted and set to flight their second tapestry of song. And they've garnered the assistance of some musical luminaries to realize their vision, namely Alan Weatherhead (engineer, producer and/or mult-instrumentalist for such groups as Sparklehorse, Cracker, and Trailer Bride) and Mark Van Hoen (producer, engineer and/or multi-instrumentalist for the likes of Locust, Mojave 3, and Seefeel). As well, guitarist Simon Raymonde (Cocteau Twins) steps in to guest on the final song. Whereas their debut cast a soothing, ephemeral atmosphere resembling diaphamous veils and glistening silks, this time the fabric, no less gorgeous, may be seen as being more akin to deep, jewel-hued velvets and sumptuous brocades weighted by painstakingly embroidered personal details. Ever so gracefully composed and arranged, all elements are much more present than previously so, bringing a sense of immediacy to the proceedings. This is particularly palpable in Frodahl's vocal performance. Formerly singing in a whispery murmur, here she expresses a greater range of character and raw emotion - often approaching the deeply heartbaring lilt of Chan Marshall. Need proof? Simply give the seventh song "Fiction" a listen, as well as the album's lengthy centerpiece "Was He A Poet". Wow! Indeed, the warmth and allure of Seven Principles Of Leave No Trace brings to mind not that of a comforting blanket, but rather of glowing embers of a dying flame. A haunting, burnished beauty. Once again, very recommended!
So very very lovely! Brooklyn based septet Edison Woods weave shadowy gossamer ribbons of dream tunes. These are the warm blanketing lullaby sounds for starry winter evenings. Former San Franciscan Julia Frodahl's gentle whisper of a voice glides
The Editors' An End Has A Start album was probably my (Andee!) most listened to record when it came out, and hell, even still, a totally epic and bombastic brooding gloom pop record, every song spectacular, catchy, dark, haunting, rocking, it was the band's finest moment, a rare record that never wore out its welcome, but it was inevitable, that I would start itching for a new record, but who would have thought, on the heels of what some would consider a practically perfect record, the band would throw it all away and start from scratch, but that's exactly what they did. To be more precise, the band ditched the guitars, the bass (maybe even the drums? hard to tell if the beats are programmed or not) and chose to create their new record entirely on synthesizers. Just keyboards, synths, no stringed instruments at all. Bold move, some might even suggest unwise, we were definitely skeptical, but just check out the opening track, a dark blackened synth pop gem, droning, and hypnotic, the vocals murky and ominous, the synths muddy and blurred, the sound hypnotic, repetitive, minor key, mysterious, sad and depressive, but so great.
And then there's the single, "Papillon", whose core sound is so Depeche Mode it's almost criminal, but those vocals, the melody, unmistakably the Editors, darkly propulsive, new wave, totally mesmerizing. As is the whole record. It does take some getting used to, but if you dug the other Editors records, no reason you won't dig this one. Plus any record with a grinding muted bit of looped synth prog murk with the title "Eat Raw Meat = Blood Drool" has to be good. It's a grower, but the more we listen, the harder it is to stop...
This is the US version and includes FIVE bonus tracks.
Bundled up in their ash grey wool overcoats, The Editors enter the overcast world that's already inhabited by the dour hearts of Interpol and She Wants Revenge, and their British forefathers Joy Division and Echo & The Bunnymen. How you feel about the Editors depends on how you feel about another band that sounds -dangerously- like their peers. Eyes closed you'd be hard pressed to convince yourself that this wasn't Interpol. The songs aren't nearly as immediately catchy, but definitely cut from the same cloth. The EXACT same cloth. The Back Room is definitely executed with skill and aplomb but we'd almost always take originality and spirit and creativity over musicanship or chops. But how about if you just want more of something that sounds like something that sounds like something you like? Then this might very well hit the spot.
We've mentioned this before, probably in a bunch of reviews, as much as we love us out black metal buzz, and strange animal sounds, deep dark drones and whatever other sonic weirdness that is tickling our ear drums, it's hard not to always come back to pop music. And certain records in particular. And there are all sorts of processes we go through to pick AQ highlights ands records of the week. But sometimes, you just have to go with the record you listened to the most. Even if it's not the weirdest, or the coolest (and it's usually not), and for me (Andee) that record is without a doubt, the new one from The Editors, a disc I found myself listening to 4 or 5 times a day (maybe much to the chagrin of coworkers) but screw it, An End Has A Start is pretty much perfect as far as I'm concerned, poppy, hooky, moody, rocking, catchy, dramatic, just so so good.�
Though often accused of being an Interpol ripoff band (and sure their sounds, especially the vocals, are dangerously similar) the Editors always seemed to have some important things that Interpol didn't. And don't get us wrong, we love Interpol, even the new one, but the Editors, somehow always seem less concerned with the cool factor, the tight suits, and the sort of emotionless sheen, instead, they revel in their emotions, they may be as dapper on the surface as their Interpol brethren, but inside, their hearts are broken, they have butterflies in their stomachs, they're willing to open up and be vulnerable, to loosen up that tie and to crawl, to weep, to wail, and that's sort of the magic of these songs.�
Their sound has gotten even more polished since the last record (positioning them closer to Coldplay probably than Interpol), but the songs have followed suit, getting even more razor sharp, the hooks impossible to resist, the melodies big and melancholy, the riffs kick ass, and the vocals, epic and throaty and super dramatic, emotional and sort of emo actually. None of that laid back cool that Interpol traffics in, this is heart on the sleeve stuff.�
And it's not just the songs, the lyrics are amazing as well, clever and sharp, emotionally resonant, and it helps that they're delivered in that irresistible croon.�
Shit, just listen to the opener, "Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors", easily the best song Interpol never wrote (or could write), simple and loping, with an amazing epic soaring bridge, and a chorus that manages to be super moving in its simplicity, the sort of progression, music and lyrics together, that totally gives you a lump in the throat, and then the super crazy hook of the second half of the chorus....�
The the second song, the title track, might be even better, more new wave, with a propulsive groove and practically perfect lyrics, jangling guitars and throbbing bass, and a chorus that KILLS...
Every track on An End Has A Start is a gem, dark and brooding, buzzy and propulsive, catchy as all get out.�"The Weight of The World" is another song Interpol should have written, but in the hands of the Editors it become a super soaring minor key lament, and then there's the�"Escape The Nest" with one of the most bad ass guitar riffs ever, a weird processed angular grind surrounded on all sides by muted gloom, making it seem even more epic and intense.�
After listening to this for the hundredth time or so, it became obvious that it would just get harder and harder to explain why it was so great. One of those records that just makes you want to review it with a single sentence: "Just buy it! It's amazing. Been listening to it nonstop. My record of the year without a doubt!!!" And while for a few people that might actually be enough, for the rest of you, read the above, listen to the sound samples, and decide for yourself, but yeah, pop record of the year without a doubt.�
Occult symbols on the cover of this black digipack... song titles like "Asmodeus: The Destroyer, King Of Demons"... covers of Black Sabbath's "Into The Void", Sepultura's "Roots Bloody Roots", and Spinal Tap's classic "Big Bottom" as bonus tracks... what is this, some sort of metal album? Well... no. It's not. And Edmund Welles isn't a person either (in this context), it's a band. A bass clarinet quartet to be exact. That's right. Four bass clarinets, that's it. So rather than metal, the weirdly dark and proggy and oddly groovy music on here ends up sounding more like some kind of '30s cabaret jazz meets 20th century classical chamber music, with some cartoon-soundtrack Carl Stalling stylings too... like if Raymond Scott was possessed by some Cthulhoid demon and outfitted his whole ensemble with bass clarinets, to pipe and hoot in worship of the Great Old Ones, both stutteringly and sinuously (and surreptitiously enough to still get nightclub gigs, swingin' it but still taking a toll on listeners' sanity). And as a nice touch, the very first track features an authentic helping of sampled, mixed-in "record crackle" to give this more of an antique, period feel.
Of course, with all the metal signifiers present -- especially those aforementioned bonus tracks -- the easiest thing to do is to compare Edmund Welles to Apocalpytica, the Finnish cello quartet famed for their Metallica covers. (And they covered a Sepultura song too!) So, there is a slight resemblance of course. But we have to say that Edmund Welles really reminds us more maybe of some sort of John Zorn project, or chamber prog brainiacs Zs. Whereas Apocalyptica somehow seems -more- metal, maybe 'cause you're more likely to hear cellos than bass clarinets on metal records anyhow, and also 'cause their cellos are amplified and sometimes they even have a drummer. Bass clarinets are, indeed, bassy and droney -- but not as heavy as some amped up cellos sawing away.
So the Sabbath cover here is more like the Bad Plus's "Iron Man" than how it would sound if Apocalyptica did it.
Maybe it's just a cool gimmick, but we can't help but like it... and we can safely say this is the best bass clarinet quartet album we've ever heard!
Indie pop and post-rock converge in the dreamiest fashion where the two E's meet. EE is the band led by Tobin Mori (formerly of Korea Girl) and also bears the unmistakable mark of Sooyoung Park (former mainman of Seam and Bitch Magnet). Capital Plans is primarily a guitar driven album, but with a few choice chamber pop elements prettying up the proceedings, a bit of edgier distortion making itself apparent later on, and a delicate electronic number bringing things soothingly to a close. There are definitely similarities in both the vocal delivery and the songwriting to bands such as Seam, Versus and more recently Whysall Lane. In fact, we'd almost swear that Mori was a long lost sibling of the Balayut brothers (Whysall Lane's Richard, +/-'s James, Versus' Ed). Yes, the resemblance is that striking. Very recommended for fans of the abovementioned bands as well as Sea And Cake and Portastatic too.
This local pop quartet's line-up shines brightly with the presence of ex-Korea Girl member Tobin Mori, Soo Young Park from Seam, and Pete Nguyen of Total Shutdown. This is the follow-up to their Tinyspot cdep that was the follow-up to their '99 debut Ramadan. A very mellow, dreamy pop affair with occasional gentle boy vocals, a low-key post-rock rhythm section, and some swelling quiet/loud moments in which you can hear why the recent addition of Mr. Park makes perfect sense. Actually many of the songs do bear a striking resemblance to mid-'90s Seam, much more so than on the Tinyspot ep (which marked his first recorded appearance in EE). His presence and influence are definitely much more noticeable this time around.
As frustrating as it can be, if you're gonna invite the main man from an indie fave band into your fold, you're gonna be saddled with the new title of "[fill in prominent member's name] of [fill in indie fave band name]'s new project" - no matter now much you've done prior to this. Such is the case with the bay area group known as ee. The fellow in question? Sooyoung Park of '90s college radio darlings Seam. Having made the move from Chicago to San Francisco, the fine songsmith sought out a new group to play with, and bingo! He met up with this already-happening group, and joined in on guitar and keyboards. The particular sticky issue is that he doesn't even appear on this just-released EP, but whenever I hear mention of them it's prefaced by "Seam's Sooyoung..."! You get the picture. Taken on its own merits, this follow-up to their '99 debut is a very mellow, dreamy pop affair with gentle boy vocals, a low-key post-rock rhythm section, and some swelling quiet/loud moments in which you can hear why the recent addition of Mr. Park makes perfect sense. Includes two live tracks and an outtake. If you like what you hear, word has it there's more coming soon.
These are sure some super pretty Blinking Lights... and there's so many of 'em they couldn't fit on one cd! This double disc album boasts a whopping 33 songs! There's such an outpouring of emotion it's easy to see why it couldn't be contained on one cd. While their previous full length 2002's Souljacker took their fans to a typically Eels-style perky quirky place, it seems spirits have dampened since then. Is playtime over for the Eels? The heart of this considerably more 'mature' album is woven from equal parts melancholia and romantic yearning -- very much in the vein of Sparklehorse. As well, in the midst of the first disc, it struck us just how much Eels mainman Everett's voice has developed a soft hoarseness very akin to that of Britt Daniel of Spoon. In fact, if folks who previously steered clear of Eels (due to the band's quirky nutty factor) give this album a chance, they might be pleasantly surprised. In a way, it's a sort of equivalent situation (maybe a bit less extreme) to when Beck released his deeply personal album Sea Change after the funky soul-drenched Midnite Vultures. Actually, there's a number of songs on Blinking Lights' second disc that parallel the heartfelt shuffly-footed prettiness to some of those on Sea Change. Soft, mellow and nice.
Rambunctious and often bombastic pop tunes with quirky lyrics about things like that "Fresh Feeling" and a "Friendly Ghost". Kinda sounds like the following fictitious encounter: one fine sunny day Beck is shufflin' down the street and bumps into Too Much Joy.
What or who is Eesk? She was an integral part of SF's eccentric, eclectic, and highly entertaining Action Plus (note: her alias then was Ursula Blind). With Ghost Taxi, she continues in the A.P. tradition of the unrelenting style and mood melting pot. It's graced with multi-personality vocal acrobatics and definite overtones of international film music. She draws inspiration from wonderfully diverse sources to create an intelligent, finely composed and thoroughly engaging album. Very soundtrack-y! A little spine-tingling sinister at times, a bit strangely trippy at others, and ultra mellow loungey at still others. And although this is her solo album, she's by no means on her own. The album features a shining supporting cast too: skilled guitarist and producer Joe Gore (Action Plus, PJ Harvey, Tom Waits, Eels, Tracy Chapman, Oranj Symphonette), Tin Hat Trio's Rob Burger (on keyboards) and Carla Kihlstedt (on violin), Creeper Lagoon's David Kostiner (on drums), Oranj Symphonette's Pat Campbell (also on drums), cellist Matthew Brubeck (Oranj Symphonette, Jewel, Sheryl Crow), and Joey Waronker (Beck, Smokey & Miho, REM, Elliott Smith, Badly Drawn Boy, and the list goes on and on). Nice!
A gang of totally talented women from Brooklyn making some intense and engaging off kilter psych post-punk that's been thrilling us big time via this new Sacred Bones release. We love how Effi Briest bring worlds of post-punk, krautrock, garage goth, and psychedelia into a propulsive whole that is so charged and hypnotizing. It's always a good sign when you can't immediately start rattling off other bands a record reminds you of, as there is something very honest and unique about the songs on Rhizomes. We do think of some of those awesome amalgamations that are fun to dream up. Like Erase Errata doing early Siouxsie & The Banshees covers, or White Magic shedding their folkish leanings and diving full throttle into psychedelic overload, Gang Gang Dance and Zola Jesus joining their mystical powers or Au Pairs and The Raincoats risen from the ashes but sounding a bit weirder and more rhythmic, or even a more intense version of those awesome Helium records that Ash Bowie from Polvo played on, or heck, maybe what early Wire might have sounded like with a young Patti Smith on vocals.
At a time when so many new records are so loyal to the one sound or style they are trying to capture it's so fucking cool to come across a band that is bringing together many great influences and undoubtedly have great taste (they are named after a great Fassbinder film after all) but for the most part are really bringing something fresh, immediate and unique to the table. One of those records that draws you into its world more and more with each listen. And we have to say we are totally and utterly hooked!
The opening track of Efterklang's latest album sounds like the loveliness of a choir and orchestra being carried to your ears on the wings of an autumn breeze. Light, airy, and shimmeringly blissful. It's the sound of a glorious dream that gradually builds and darkens to heart-swelling proportions. Although this Danish band has two dreamy main vocalists Linda Drejer Bonde and Thomas Sjoberg, it is the giant choruses where they shine brightest. The unpredictable proggy rhythmic interplay between the brass, strings and vocals is captivating, quite possibly drawing inspiration from the likes of Yes and King Crimson. Parades' sweepingly regal grandeur spurs cinematic imaginings of gowned maidens rushing down castle staircases and armored knights charging into battle. Really beautiful.
Gentle electronica from Denmark. So nice!
Collection of all their singles and compilation/split 7" tracks.
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This Swedish trio own the studio where St. Etienne and the Cardigans record. Needless to say, fans of the aforementioned groups will love this too. Delicate, juicy sweet pop. Spanish import.
Back in stock, back in print. One of our favorite No Neck Blues Band side projects, Egypt Is The Magick Number features Adam Mortimer and Dave Shuford both from NNBB but in a more tranced-out continuation of the way way out psyche improv damage of their No Neck mothership. Massive doses of delay, slow floating sheets of white hot psych guitar, shuffling minimal percussion, all dosed with acid, rolled in a hemp and lit afire. The first track is a 30 minute mother, easy to imagine two guys locked in a dark room with a hookah, a broken guitar with one string and a suitacse full of delay pedals. Super tripped out, wide eyed outer space drug drones. The other three tracks are similarly high flying, low crawling excursions into weird acoustic guitar-strum jams, the clattering of pots, and meandering twangy vocals. It's equal parts Sun City Girls, Jandek, and Yahowah. Which obviously means fucking great!
Ding, ding! (x4) Something ring a bell? That's cuz Eight Bells is the new group formed from the ashes of veteran spacerockers Subarachnoid Space, whose last album before they disbanded in 2010 was titled, Eight Bells. Since we liked that record a lot, we're happy to report that Subarachnoid Space guitarist Melynda Jackson has teamed with erstwhile Subarachnoid Space drummer Chris Van Huffel, plus bassist Haley Westeiner, to take up where Subarachnoid Space left off, this trio continuing Subarachnoid Space's latter-day trajectory into heavier and heavier territories, to the point that it makes sense that this would be recorded by Billy Anderson, and come out on Seventh Rule. And woah this is good, damn good. Mostly instrumental (even when there is singing, it's often kinda used as another instrument), and definitely progressive, with sinuous song structures and intricate epic arrangements, they play a kind of mathy, moody spacerock that at times even ventures into black metal territory - Cascadian black metal we guess, to be precise, since that's where they're based, up in the Pacific Northwest. Seriously, if you didn't know the context, there's stretches where you'd think it was a BM record for sure. And as space rock or post rock, it's definitely rockin'. Think Kinksi meets Wolves In The Throne Room...
A good example of Eight Bells' dynamic, apocalyptic mathrock is how the urgent angular quickstep of track two, "Fate And Technology" takes a sudden shift into slower, quieter, more placid territory adorned by dreamy, gentle female singing, but then builds up again to sheer, near black metal blasting complete with harsh, throatripped vokills. Those vokills and vocals are both handled by Haley, but the title track does bring in guest vocalist Kris Force of Amber Asylum to add her haunting pipes to the mix, for some extra atmosphere, that track reminding us, with its scrambling riffery, of Stinking Lizveta, at first anyway, then getting seriously epic in a postrock way, 12+ minutes full of drama and majesty (and intense chops!), climaxing with thunderous drum pound and wordless high end operatic vocalizations from Force. Here and elsewhere there's droning synths, echoing effects, and a thick, muscular bass presence, part of what makes Eight Bells so heavy and propulsive.
For fans of Subarachnoid Space (of course) and Liturgy and maybe the likes of Worm Ouroboros too. Recommended!!
This one pretty much floored us when we first put it on. Track one, "Tourniquet", begins quietly, with a droning sound swelling up slowly, so we didn't expect the shocking outburst of sick fuzz that then erupts, the rest of the song alternating between distorted, disjointed riffs and gentler melodic parts. Its unhinged freakiness immediately made us think of Michael Yonkers' similarly crazed Microminiature Love album, a total genius AQ fave. So what the heck is this? The mysterious trio of Damin Eih, A.L.K. and Brother Clark (from Minneapolis, just like Yonkers) made this wonderfully twisted psychedelic rock record in 1973, privately releasing it into almost total obscurity and eventual psych-rock collector dreams. But thank the reissue gods, it's been deservedly rescued from oblivion and boy howdy is it ever something that we're happy to hear and we think you'll be happy about it too.
The eleven tracks feature fragile vocal melodies, delicate 12-string strum, weird trippy lyrics (telling you to "take off your eyes, lie down in your head" or chanting "world is ridiculous" over and over), and a few further doses of that aforementioned totally sick fuzz guitar (which doesn't really return in full force until the final track). Most of the album is fairly spaced out, the many mellower songs all delightfully druggy, dreamy, drifty... there's really some quite lovely stuff on here, in keeping with the trio's obvious interest in Eastern mysticism and inner mind trips. Furthermore, for an apparently underground DIY production, it's actually rather ambitious and accomplished, with effective vocal harmonies, electronic embellishments, ethnic instruments, and other interesting orchestration. Stuff like the Beatles' "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds" sounds like an influence... as does that song's obvious inspiration too.
Along with Yonkers, another AQ fave we could compare this to would be the Alice Cooper Band's psychedelic debut Pretties For You... but more surreal and subversive. Alice, even in his later shock-rock showman guise, would have shied away from lyrics like "rape and kill your parents or the blacks, and if you're one of those you can rape and kill the others back", a line found here in the deviant blues rocker "Return Naked" that ends this album with tour-de-force of really warped hippie-punk attitude and ultra-distorted, rubbery megafuzz riffage (the idea behind the song, we think, being about how the war is over in Vietnam, so now what?).
Never Mind is an album that's also possessed of the same lost and lysgeric vibe we got from another early '70s private press rarity reissued a while back, Stone Harbour's Emerges. And '80s psych savant Bobb Trimble could be another good comparison in parts ("Thundermice" in particular). Oh, and if you're gonna get the Dwarr reissue we made record of the week, this would make a good companion purchase, though despite some heavy moments it's not in any way metal, it still seems to share some of the same outsider DNA, this is possibly what Dwarr would have sounded like in '73 instead of '86...
Sadly, this digipack contains no liner notes to speak of, just recording credits, too bad 'cause we're sure there's quite a story behind and beyond this album, from what we've been able to glean from other sources about main member Damin Eih vanishing to India not long after this was originally released.
Ok, if you're a fan of the Japanese prog-core duo Ruins and their amazing drummer and musical mastermind Tatsuya Yoshida, you already know he's a big fan of '70s progressive rock. Of course. It's pretty obvious, even if you've never experienced the Ruins' infamous "Prog Rock Medley". Ruins wouldn't be Ruins without the influence of classic '70s bands like Magma, Area, and Henry Cow. Here, Yoshida -really- gets proggy, though, paying tribute to some of his inspirations in that genre (and, classical music too) with a both a batch of worthy originals and several exquisite cover versions as well.
At home in yet another duo situation, Tatsuya Yoshida (vocals, drums, programming, keys, acoustic guitar) teams up with Eiko Ishibashi (vocals, piano, keys, flute), to turn in 14 tracks of utter prog nirvana, stuff that's gorgeously melodic and mathematically mindboggling, both.
Fans of Ruins, Koenjihyakkei, Tairikuotoko vs. Sanmaykuonna, and other manifestations of Yoshida's prog-obsession will be drooling, from the sweet female vocals and quirky hectic changes of "Festival Of Teeth" to the amusing, impressive ADD-antics of the quite clever "Classic Medley" (all 1 minute, 21 seconds of it), from the dizzying "The Invention Of A Parachute" to the thickly synth-buzzed, heavy and haunting "Planet Of Reverberation" which ends the disc... Wow.
While that "Classic Medley" has a tongue-in-cheek, showoffish element we're sure, this duo also respectfully give props to a few of their influences with some other covers, including songs by This Heat ("Twilight Furniture"), Soft Machine ("As Long As He Lies Perfectly Still"), Genesis ("Time Table"), and Debussy ("Doctor Gradus Ad Pernassum")! You know what? Even if you've never ever heard Ruins before, we would still recommend this to the curious, who could just as easily as any old school prog diehard be thrilled by this elegant, intricate music. Especially since, with both the covers and originals, these two manage to strike a stellar balance between the technical, excitingly indulgent side of prog, and truly lovely, uh, songishness. So nice!
And now we're curious to hear more from Ms. Eiko...
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Silkworm hooks back up with ex-member and solo star Joel Phelps, changing the band name back to what they were called before they were Silkworm, and record a brand-new disc. Who woulda thunk it etc.
A vinyl reissue of one of the best Einsturzende Neubauten recordings! Halber Mensch ('half man' in German) originally came out in 1985, at the height of the apex of punk self-immolation, pure German expressionism, and industrial theatricality. The infernal vocal chorale of the title track is about as intense as a vocal piece could ever be, without resorting to pure guttural howling. Here is it a searing repetition of an atonal plainsong, buttressed by the always unique snarl of frontman Blixa Bargeld. The repurposed metals from junkyards and constructions site which have become synonymous with Neubauten immediately appear afterwards on their anthemic single "Yu-Gung (Fuetter Mein Ego)," whose insistent rhythm works almost Gamelan-like as the principal melody to this amazing tune. It should also be pointed out that Pussy Galore, who were already heavily indebted to EN, covered this on their Sugar Shit Sharp ep! later As a grand climax to the album, Neubauten again returns to hellish imagery through the symphony of bowed metals on "Der Tod Ist Ein Dandy," where these cacophonic scrapes amass into a dramatic arc of acoustic noise that easily parallels those same constructions that David Jackman built through Organum. This is one of those seminal records that should always be in print, and one of those records that you should already have. But if not, you shouldn't pass this up!
On September 12, Blixa Bargeld wandered into Aquarius after hearing that his US tour with Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds had been cancelled. While I had never met the man before, his demeanor was certainly curt and somewhat cold, muttering his disapproval that
If I had been able to muster the courage to ask Bargeld for his thoughts, I could imagine that his answer would be something poetic but vaguely haunting, and maybe something a little bit more allegorical than Stockhausen's recent social gaffes. Or maybe, those are the attributes that I'd like his words to have, and he would just shrug it off as another stupid question from another stupid American. Yet, Bargeld and his stalwart project Einsturzende Neubauten have been engaged in presenting multiple possibilities for the end of the world within evolving musical theatres, ranging from their early brutalism of hammering infernal music out of metal and flesh to their more recent offerings of staged melodramas around Bargeld's lyrical complexities and restrained vocalizations. Thus, I would hope that Bargeld may have something intelligent and insightful to say about the WTC attacks.
"Strategies Against Architecture III," subtitled "A Comedy of Errors" was obviously never intended to be Bargeld's specific answer; but within the current cultural climate, it does address the general themes. Over the last decade, Neubauten has calmed their industrial clamour and embraced the tasteful palette of a chamber ensemble, with strings and horns fleshing out their recent sound. It is obvious that Neubauten has changed with age, looking back at their early work through eyes that no longer seek expression through self-destruction. Rather, Neubauten stands in the ashes of their attempts at self-destruction seeing that the epistomological forces of life may in fact be stronger than the will to destroy. The gleefully abject explosions that made up their earliest work now quietly smolder within the pleasant, strangely cabaret-like, and almost holistically beneficial music found within "Strategies III."
In essence, Neubauten's third compilation of rarities, alternate takes and 'greatest hits' finds their existential angst getting all warm and fuzzy. While I've been wholly disappointed by their work over the past decade, "Strategies III" makes for an nice condensed history for a time period in which existential answers were sought in lieu of taking aesthetic adventures.
Admittedly, we approached this new Einsturzende Neubauten album with a little bit of apprehension. In our humble opinion, their recordings from the last decade and a half have fallen so far short of what you'd expect from a group that were absolute music groundbreakers (literally!). Seriously can Silence Is Sexy or Perpetuum Mobile hold a candle (or blowtorch) to Halber Mensch or Drawings Of Patient O.T.? We think not. So Alles Wieder Offen comes as something of a pleasant (hmmm, that's sort of a weird word to use with regards to this band, isn't it?) surprise. It's almost like Blixa Bargeld and co. had a wake up call (albeit a not so aggressive one) that shook them out of their velvet draped parlor and back into the rubble-strewn dank warehouse... at least for a brief spell. For one thing Bargeld is alternating his vocal croon with his former urgent bark. While there still isn't any of the early brutal thunder of heavy machinery, there are atmospheres filled with icy Germanic scowls and white knuckles. Hypnotic male chants, buzzing electronics, blunt object thuds, and metallic clatter too. At long last, Einsturzende Neubauten may have struck an affecting integration of what has long seemed disconcertingly at odds -- their early defiant dissonance and newer refined elegance.
