RECORD STORE DAY 2015!!
Kewl! For Record Store Day 2015, the Superior Viaduct label has returned to their West Coast underground roots and reissued a quartet of crucial California punk/indie singles, early outings from The Dils, The X, Flipper, and The Residents! These would set you back a pretty penny if you tried to buy original copies nowadays.
Flipper, SF's infamous sludge punk originators, released "Love Canal" b/w "Ha Ha Ha", their debut recording, in 1981 on Subterranean. A 7" slab of throbbing dementia unlike anything else the punk scene had spewed out before then, and it's no surprise that the Melvins later covered "Love Canal" themselves about ten years later, Flipper obviously being a big influence on them. This is where it started.
Limited edition, colored (translucent red) vinyl, last copies, already sold out even at the label.
At long last, reissues of the four best works by San Francisco's own Flipper!
Founded in 1979, Flipper was an anomaly. Though featured in the 2006 documentary "American Hardcore," alongside bands like Minor Threat and Bad Brains, they seemed totally miscategorized. They were far easier understood in the context of SF artpunk, but their shitty production values, menacing lyrics and nihilistic attitude ingratiated them with the hardcore crowd.
Often credited with inspiring a thousand sludge rock bands, there's no doubt that their influence runs far and wide. From '80s contemporaries like No Trend and Drunks with Guns, to Rick Rubin's copycat band Hose, to bands with later, greater success like the Melvins and Nirvana, the impact of Flipper is formidable. In fact, the Melvins in particular owe so much to Flipper; having recorded SO MANY covers of their songs - and obviously influenced by Flipper's hollow, sparse, plodding drum style - they may be Flipper's number one fans. But unlike their disciples, Flipper's music remains far less polished, less categorizable and more enigmatic, in our humble opinion.
Live albums are often throw-aways, but this one is so NOT. On this masterful double CD compilation, Flipper demonstrates more than a casual flirtation with Public Image Ltd, at whom the band enacts revenge for allegedly stealing the "Generic" concept years prior. It's a sprawling, chaotic selection of some of Flipper's best songs, and many that don't appear on any other readily available release. Gloriously muddy, deranged swampfests of feedback, documenting the oft-touted rowdy live experience that their studio-recorded output may not have conveyed. This release definitely captures the best elements of Flipper - humor, depravity and a sloppy yet confident self-critique of what it means to be a band playing rock music.
Did we mention on-stage banter?
"Don't dance, I don't give a shit!"
"Is everybody on speed? I'm getting a contact high like a motherfucker!"
"Are you satisfied yet? Can we leave?"
The cover reproduces a scaled-down version of the original LP art, which was an interactive board game based on Flipper's touring life on the road. You could cut it out and construct it, but it's not really recommended.
Reissue contains additional photos and liner notes by writer Steven Blush, who still needs to explain why the movie made from his American Hardcore book chose Flipper as San Francisco's contribution to said 'American Hardcore', and not Crucifix, the Fuck Ups, Code of Honor, or even Fang.
At long last, reissues of the four best works by San Francisco's own Flipper!
Founded in 1979, Flipper was an anomaly. Though featured in the 2006 documentary "American Hardcore," alongside bands like Minor Threat and Bad Brains, they seemed totally miscategorized. They were far easier understood in the context of SF artpunk, but their shitty production values, menacing lyrics and nihilistic attitude ingratiated them with the hardcore crowd.
Often credited with inspiring a thousand sludge rock bands, there's no doubt that their influence runs far and wide. From '80s contemporaries like No Trend and Drunks with Guns, to Rick Rubin's copycat band Hose, to bands with later, greater success like the Melvins and Nirvana, the impact of Flipper is formidable. In fact, the Melvins in particular owe so much to Flipper; having recorded SO MANY covers of their songs - and obviously influenced by Flipper's hollow, sparse, plodding drum style - they may be Flipper's number one fans. But unlike their disciples, Flipper's music remains far less polished, less categorizable and more enigmatic, in our humble opinion.
Sex Bomb Baby! is a compilation of the band's singles, several of which were released before their seminal debut album Generic. Recorded in a trash can, their dirgey, feedbacky songs somehow transcend. Add cheap studio effects, the occasional arty sample or spoken monologue, and Flipper's trademark angst/sneer/fucked up genius definitely shows through. This album is a good companion to Generic but the uninitiated should start there first, not here. Aside from different versions of "Sex Bomb" and "Ever" from Generic, there's the insanely creepy "Ha Ha Ha," a live version of their most overtly political song "Sacrifice," and the bludgeoning "Earthworm." There are other nuggets here, but also quite a few jokey songs that were probably funnier to a teenaged-bong-smoking Flipper freek than the Flipper freek of today.
Reissue contains additional photos and decently entertaining liner notes by Henry Rollins, who was responsible for the last reissue of this oft-reissued disc.
For those of you who love the Pogues, and miss the Pogues and need more raucous drinking music for those wild nights out, salvation is at hand. Initially, the only reason we had any interest in this band was the fact that the vocalist fronted Fastway, one of Andee and Allan's favorite eighties metal bands and they have been playing the Warp tour for some strange reason. But damn if this band hasn't gotten really good at what they do. And what they do is ape the Pogues to a T. And as with a lot of things, you might think, bah...how unoriginal, but the bottom line is, this band sounds great. They just kind of sound like the Pogues. Rollicking and rocking big barroom fun with the occasional misty eyed ballad. So hoist your ales and jump in the pit.
Allan and Andee's interest in this band was based entirely on the fact that the lead vocalist of Flogging Molly was also, in his much younger days, once the frontman for eighties metallers Fastway, featuring guitarist Fast Eddie Clark from Motorhead. Wow. We love Fastway. Who could have predicted that one. Well, he is Irish after all. And one can only deny one's roots for so long. Basically, Flogging Molly are the heirs to the throne long held by the Pogues. Where Flogging Molly one-up their musical forebearers, is they take their rollicking Irish jigs and make them HEAVY. Yep heavy. This is Celtic rock for the Warp Tour set. Which is actually a good thing. Imagine a supercharged Pogues, who were actually pretty supercharged to begin with. You can definitely imagine a drunken night of stage diving and jumping wildly around to FM's wild Irish Pogue-ery!
First we've heard in a while from these local heavies. Their last record, Native, on MeteorCity, was a big hit with the aQ doomlords, and the new one, Oak, pretty much takes up right where the last one left off. Murky tarpit sprawls of crumbling distortion ooze through cloud of equaling feedback, punctuated by bursts of drum damage, and the occasional convergence, when all the instruments come together into one huge crash, only to splinter back into their constituent parts, and eventually, after this spaced out field of glacial heaviness, the group gains momentum, and suddenly, the sound is lurching and lumbering, a downtuned slo-mo groove, a little bit Sabbathy, a little bit stonery, but slowed even further down, and fucked up a bit too. For all this abstract heaviness, there's a surprising amount of melody happening as well. Opener "Perihelion" reminds us of probably our favorite Bongwater song, but cranked way up and doused in distortion, the bellowed vox giving it a sort of Harvey Milk vibe, which is no way a bad thing. And really if you dig Harvey Milk, and have yet to check out Flood, do yourself a favor, you won't be sorry.
The whole record is overflowing with killer riffs, subtle hooks, slow shifting texture, rumbling, crumbling distortion, and while the bulk of the record is super slow, the band occasionally rev up and deliver some serious punked out metallic crush, "Holy Astro Shaman Part II" drifts more toward Torche territory, kind of sludge pop fused to some more metallic heft, with some killer drumming, and again, so super hooky melodies. The record culminates in the majestic blown out doom sludge epic "Lake Nyos", that sounds a bit like the Melvins covering Neurosis, or maybe the other way around. heavy and heady, tripped out, melodic, moody and massive. Hopefully we don't have to wait another 5 years for the next record!
Includes a download code too.
Obviously a $45, EIGHT cd set, comprising a band's entire recorded output, is most likely not for the dabbler, or the casually curious. But if you're anything like us, and have been obsessed with the band Floor, the band that turned into Torche, who managed to turn their downtuned sludge into a sort of insanely hooky, ultra heavy sludge pop, and if like us you were tempted to buy the outrageously over the top 8 cd AND 8 lp TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR box set, then this is for YOU. No vinyl, although it's packaged in a gatefold lp sleeve, this is eight cds, including the band's two proper releases, their s/t record and their Dove record as well as every single, compilation track, demo, live track, unreleased rarity, more Floor than most folks could possible need. But there are definitely some of you, like us, who will for sure need this. Need a Floor refresher? Here's what we had to say about the band's swansong Dove, included here:
Those of you who were into the whole punk/grind/crust scene in the nineties probably remember Floor, a ubiquitous presence at shows and on split 7"s, always confounding the punk rockers with their downtuned sludge and un-punk songwriting and two-guitar, drums, NO bass lineup. Imagine Nirvana's Bleach, but bury all the Beatles popishness so ubiquitous in those songs under even more layers of sludge. It's like Cavity covering Nirvana. Or a less purposefully annoying Melvins. Lots of pounding dynamics, hovering guitar sustain, and squealing feedback. And although the proceedings are almost always pinned down by a crushing slab of sonic sludge, that doesn't keep Floor from getting all poppy, like on the downright catchy "Figure It Out" complete with melodic vocals and catchy as fuck chorus. But it's always back to the hypnotic repetitive dirge, culminating in the 20 minute sixth track "Dove" (members of Floor would go on to be in a band called Dove), a slow motion, chugging juggernaut of muffled riffing and caveman drumming. But that's not all, there's a final blow, a fifteen minute minimal metal workout. Two chords, endless sustain and a simple pounding rhythm. File that track in your drone metal section right next your SUNNO))) and Earth. For fans of the Melvins, Gore, Corrupted, Boris, Nirvana and all things slow and sludgy!
And here's what we had to say about their debut full length:
One of our all time favorite sludge/metal/grind bands, who until now, had only released tracks on compilations and seven inches, finally unleashes a full length, and instead of wallowing in their underground-basement-split-seven-inch past and rehashing their slow motion grind (in the style of Cavity and Eyehategod), they've added LOTS of clean vocals and a surprising amount of melody, ending up with a sound somewhere between your favorite pop punk emo band, the Melvins, late period Fudge Tunnel, and Nirvana, but way, way heavier. Seriously. They've turned into a honest to goodness pop band, but a downtuned, amps-on-11, super-distorted, kick-in-the-guts pop band. Great production too with super distorted low end that makes their huge bursts of guitar sound like the end of the world!
And those constitute just TWO of the EIGHT discs. Phew!
The packaging is really cool too. A thick gatefold sleeve, inside one of the pockets is a massive 12" x 12" full color booklet, with extensive liner notes, track listings, photos, as well as reproductions of all the record covers, and in the middle, in the gatefold, the 8 cds are housed in little slots, affixed to the jacket, with the disc artwork matching the background artwork. Super sweet, and most definitely recommended. But mostly to the more obsessive amongst you!
Those of you who were into the whole punk/grind/crust scene in the nineties probably remember Floor, a ubiquitous presence at shows and on split 7"s, always confounding the punk rockers with their downtuned sludge and un-punk songwriting and two-guitar, drums, NO bass lineup. Dove was recorded in 1994 but for some reason remained unreleased until now. Imagine Nirvana's Bleach, but bury all the Beatles popishness under even more layers of sludge. It's like Cavity covering Nirvana. Or a less purposefully annoying Melvins. Lots of pounding dynamics, hovering guitar sustain, and squealing feedback. And although the proceedings are almost always pinned down by a crushing slab of sonic sludge, that doesn't keep Floor from getting all poppy once in a while, like on the downright catchy track 4, "Figure It Out" complete with melodic vocals and catchy as fuck chorus. But it's always back to the hypnotic repetitive dirge, culminating in the 20 minute sixth track "Dove" (members of Floor would go on to be in a band called Dove), a slow motion, chugging juggernaut of muffled riffing and caveman drumming. The cd version comes with a bonus track, a fifteen minute minimal metal workout. Two chords, endless sustain and a simple pounding rhythm. File that track in your drone metal section right next your Sunn 0))) and Earth. For fans of the Melvins, Gore, Corrupted, Boris, Nirvana and all things slow and sludgy!
It's been ten years since the last full length from these sludge pop legends, but mainman Steve Brooks has most definitely been keeping that sludge pop legacy alive with his new band Torche, and really if you dig Torche, you're gonna dig Floor too, as they're both cut from the same sonic cloth, insanely downtuned riffage, crushing drum pounds, and soaring super melodic vocals. Killer pop hooks swaddled in doom/sludge churn, and it's a potent combination. The fact that Brooks has been writing Torche songs (haha, get it?) for so long, does mean, that while this is a whole different band, the jams here still essentially play out like new Torche songs (haha, again), and we're not complaining, it's a sound we can't get enough of, epic, crushing catchiness, impossibly hooky metallic crunch, the band slipping easily from tarpit dirge, to more hard rocking heaviness, check out the opening one-two punch of the title track and "Rocinante", the former, a gloriously skull caving slab of doom-pop creep, like Queen crossed with the Melvins at 16rpm, the latter, a furious blast of headbangable pop metal riffery, the melodies crazy catchy, but buried beneath some serious badass riffage. But then hold on to your fucking hats for "Trick Scene", which begs the question, how the fuck do these guys tune their guitars so low, and why does it sound so goddamn good?! Brooks popsmithery has never sounded better, OR heavier, there's always been a whiff of Nirvana's Bleach to Floor (and Torche), which is in no way a bad thing, and it's like Bleach, only louder and heavier and slower and sludgier, which is of course most definitely a good thing! Amidst all this chug and churn, there does lurk a few sonic surprises, some new waviness on one track, some pure pop dreaminess on another, but ultimately, this is just absolute sludge pop bliss, and maybe the best thing we've heard from Brooks with ANY of his projects. Which is saying a while heck of a lot...
Before there was Torche, there was Floor. And if you love the super hooky, impossibly heavy sludge pop of Torche, then you'd do well to investigate Floor, who were like a slightly sludgier, slightly less poppy Torche. We recently reviewed the (now sadly sold out) massive 8 cd complete Floor collection, but this might be a bit easier to digest. And hell, if you DID buy that Floor box, you're probably gonna want this too, cuz nothing here was included in that set!! And if you don't own Floor's Dove record, find it. NOW. Some of the heaviest hookiest shit EVER. Floor never made it big, and were way more unsung than they deserved, and of course, Steve Brooks went on to form Torche, but with the love and hype surrounding Torche, it was inevitable that folks would finally discover Floor, which culminated in that 8 cd set, and a couple live reunion shows last year, one of which is what's contained on the first disc in this double disc set, a massive two hour live set, split into three separate sections, each featuring a different drummer, and the songs that drummer played on. It's a pretty epic and crushing collection, blown out, downtuned, EPIC, heavy as hell and hooks galore, total blissed out sludge pop radness, and all three versions of the band DESTROY. Also included on the first disc is a short documentary/interview with the band and all three drummers, including tons of super rare old live footage and lots of photographs.
As if that weren't enough, the second disc is a data disc containing, high quality audio files of both reunion shows (not just the one from the first disc), the complete and unedited film of Floor, everything that was cut, restored to a massive 2+ hours, and a whole bunch of super rare live videos, spanning the band's entire existence, from 1993 all the way to their final shows in 2002.
LIMITED TO 700 COPIES. Housed in a super elaborate origami like silkscreened package, similar to the Harvey Milk Anthem release, a printed insert with both discs affixed to it, housed in a six panel jacket, all metallic ink on heavy textured cardstock. Nice!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
"Free guitar lessons for animals! Free guitar lessons for animals! Hello, little tiger! Do you want to learn to play the guitar? Just scratch the strings. This is a chord. Now start a band!" If only it were that simple!
Miss Pussycat (of Mr. Quintron fame) is renowned for her giddy puppetshows. This recording features of a number of the musicals she's written for her puppets. Imagine the Teletubbies on a lot more acid than they already are!
Three instruments/instrumentalists undertake this blending of a band that is Flossin. Zach Hill (Hella) on drums, Miguel Depedro (aka Kid 606) on laptop and SF guitarist/multi-media explorer Christopher Willits join forces to create a noisy, free-form album, Lead Singer. The result is a dense sonic wash of varying forms, through which percussive patterns emerge and fall away. The album's live and alive sounding. Not so much a formal excercise in pattern and composition, Lead Singer is much more akin to an improv gig set up in their practice space recorded for all to enjoy.
This is an awesome slab of seventies fuzz guitar rock and roll. Lots of crunchy riffs, but also wailing lead guitar, and sort of jazzy Santana-ish breakdowns. Think Blue Cheer, Toad, Bang or Buffalo. If those names mean anything to you you're gonna need this. Greatest Hits starts out with the truly monstrous track, "It Swallowed The Sun", which begins like a Black Sabbath track, huge peals of thunder, ominous minor key fingerpicked guitars between crashing distorted chords. The rest of the record is not nearly so heavy, with lots of acoustic-y Led Zeppelin 3 moments amidst all the fuzzy wailing. But pretty fucking great. Plus, one of the best cover photos ever, with the band wearing togas, mic stands in trash cans, playing amidst clouds of smoke. So awesome!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Flower Man is the work of Chris Bush from the Kentucky based electron revivalist ensemble Caboladies. While we've failed to hear any of his work from that outfit, the constant comparisons to Emeralds and Oneohtrix Point Never was more than enough to pique our interest. As Flower Man, Bush doesn't stray too far from what we would assume Caboladies to sound like, squiggling and squirming around his analogue synths and some pretty murky tape production that triangulates his sound somewhere between Grouper, a really druggy Bruce Haack, and a happy-go-lucky Omit. With its clunky Ikue Mori-styled drum-kit leaden dance around the rhythm, the opening track laces itself around two harmonized '80s / sci-fi melodies that fragment into squelchy percolations and lazer beam vibrations. The next batch of tracks could easily originate in any number of BBC Radiophonic projects with playful yet somewhat detached bleepity-blooping interwoven with some of those spooky synth sounds that Richard D. James mustered on his really early Aphex Twin tracks from Selected Ambient Works Vol. 1. Bush slows everything down to a turgid crawl of introspection through a lonesome, moping piece of bedroom electronics on the suitably titled track "Swirling" coming across as Delia Derbyshire on Quaaludes; and then makes a quick turnabout with some spasmodic electroid flashes which dissipate into nothingness as if sucked in various directions into outer space.
It makes perfect sense that Daniel Lopatin (aka Oneohtrix Point Never) would release this on his newly launched CD-R imprint Upstairs. Limited to 75 copies, and already sold out at the label!
One of two new releases from the always kick ass Awesome Vistas label, run by artist, musician and aQ pal Chris Johanson.
Flower Of Flesh And Blood is the new project from Sean Kennerly, a write and musician based in New York, who was a SF scene regular back in the nineties (he fronted the late great Ponyride, remember them?), and who later went on to play guitar in pop punk combo Samiam. Flower Of Flesh And Blood finds Kennerly teaming up with Johanson and Hisham Baroocha (Black Dice, Soft Circle, etc.) for a record of dark brooding indie rock, that wouldn't be out of place next to recent Record Of The Weekers True Widow. The same sort of head nodding grooves, drawled vocals, slow builds and big hooks, the guitars fuzzy and warm, the sound definitely reminiscent of classic nineties indie rock / slowcore.
Flower Of Flesh And Blood are dark and languid, mellow and stoned, druggy and dreary, laid back and almost twangy here and there, rocking for sure but not loud or heavy. Hooks galore, but they're subtle, and lurk beneath the surface, letting the guitars buzz and chime, the bass unfurl thick and distorted tendrils of low end, the drums pound away, powerful but restrained, the songs minor key and melancholy, definitely poppy, but a more muted pop, dour and contemplative, occasionally locking into droney almost looped sounding parts, totally hypnotic and spacey. Really nice.
Packaged in a gorgeous silkscreened sleeve, with a xeroxed insert and a cd of the record to boot!
The cd version has again gone out of print, but now we've got it once more on vinyl, a reissue of this all time AQ fave...if you've been wanting it on wax, here's another chance! Our usual review follows:
A while back we listed this, just 'cause we happened to order a few in and some of the staff here who were previously unexposed to the wonders of the Flower Travellin Band, notably Byram, became obsessed with it (and them). It was a Japan-only import and we felt that while many might already know this album backwards and forwards, it had most certainly slipped through the cracks for too many others out there. So we listed it and got an overwhelming response. Now it's a constant seller here at AQ. And still to this day, almost any time you come into the store, you might well hear the Flower Travellin' Band blaring.
This is an album (and a band) that are not celebrated nearly enough -- possibly out of misguided notions of their being another bad psych knock-off among the many crowding the record racks in the early seventies. But Japan's Flower Travellin' Band were no mere cheesy imitators of occidental rock 'n roll, they were in actual fact a full-fledged, pioneering tour de force of psychedelic progressive hard rock, equalling the krautrock heavies of the era. FTB can be compared favorably to Amon Duul's better efforts with their experimental meandering (think Yeti), and the best trancey spaceouts from Can. Yet there's never a sense that FTB lose track of their compositions no matter how far out they take a track. Perhaps because even more than these experimental Krautrockers, FTB's heavy (fucking ominously heavy) sound points to a major Sabbath, Purple, and Crimson influence. Released in 1971, Satori is the band's second and arguably best album. From the first screech/howl at the beginning of track one -- "Satori Part I" (the tracks on the album are all "Satori", parts I-V) -- from vocalist Joe, who inhabits a zone somewhere between Can's Damo Suzuki and Deep Purple's Ian Gillan, the album gets straight down to business. Joe's scream is followed by a foreboding bass, guitar and drum dirge that's straight up collision between Cream and Black Sabbath in which no one survives. It's got so much more teeth than either, it's not even funny, predating punk by a good many years. "Satori Part II" however is quintessential FTB Over a pounding tribal drumbeat, alternating between a buzzing sitar-esque guitar drone and a melody line that curls ripples and lilts like a plume of burning incense smoke, guitarist Hideki Ishima lays out one of the creepiest, coolest guitar leads ever. If that ain't enough, vocalist Joe's singing is like that of Axl Rose being channelled by the Sun City Girls! Even if the rest of the album were total shit -- which it ain't -- the cost of this cd would still be well worth it for this song alone! "Part III" -- an instrumental -- picks up where II leaves off but slows the tempo down to a deathly pace, which makes it even heavier. This is the Sabbath influence on FTB writ large. Replete with an improv freakout before returning to the original riff and building into a frenzied crescendo. Needless to say, if you weren't bobbing your head at the beginning of the song, you will be by its end. "Part IV" could be considered FTB's "blues" number, with Joe picking up the harmonica instead of singing. But instead of churning out the expected twelve bar formula, FTB truncate the form and construct a minimalist jam around a short riff instead. "Part V" shows yet another facet of FTB's seemingly infinite potential with Hideki (?) playing some kick ass, spooky koto-like guitar overdubbed on top of some heavy psych. Damn! They could have done ten fucking albums around this schtick alone and probably never lost our interest... sigh... Absolutely, fucking recommended!!!!
Before we launch into what's gonna be relatively long-winded review, let's just state up front that this has the best album cover EVER: the band themselves cruising down a rural highway on choppers wearing nothing but their birthday suits!! And this version sees the orginal gatefold recreated for the cd-era, mini-LP sleeve style. But if that's not enough to get you to buy this, read on...
Not long ago we gave a big thumbs up to the album "Satori", the masterpiece from Japanese '70s psych rockers the Flower Travellin' Band (note: we're still waiting to get more of those in stock, they're backordered at our distributor!). Now, however, we've got a brand new reissue of the Flower Travellin' Band's debut album, "Anywhere". It certainly doesn't scale the heights of "Satori" but it'll help you to understand how they got there. Along with a great take on "House Of The Rising Sun" (a nod to Frijid Pink?), this album also explicitly demonstrates, via covers, these Japanese freaks' radical recognition of the genius of two of their Western contemporaries, Black Sabbath and King Crimson. Like many other great artists, with humble beginnings Japan's Flower Travellin' Band cut their teeth on the material of their mentors. Though "Anywhere" -- released in 1970 -- is primarily a covers album, it's also quite a testament to both the band's veracity in their reproductions and their creativity in realigning the building blocks of rock & roll. Their cover of Black Sabbath's self-titled track was actually recorded in the same year as the original and their version of King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man" only a year after its release. And they aren't merely content to play only the "Schizoid Man" opening riff, like so many other bands that have attempted to cover it, but take on the entire piece in all its schizophrenic freaked out glory, getting waaay into the improv element of the mid-section. The same is true for "Black Sabbath" and you have to appreciate singer Joe's take on the unique Ozzy voice. The most interesting track on the record though has to be their attempt at straight-up blues rock -- while their "Louisiana Blues" starts and finishes almost pedestrianly enough on the "Minglewood Blues" riff by Gus Cannon (of Cannon's Jug Stompers) that was popularized in the rock scene by the likes of The Grateful Dead and Captain Beefheart, the interior of the song is a complete departure of sorts. Not only devoid of the original progression, it's not even "bluesy" at all. Here in the extended jam that makes up the meat of this musical sandwich, the Flower Travellin' Band's Eastern roots surface a bit. It's a precursor to the sound of their later albums "Satori" and "Made In Japan" (another great one which we'll be reviewing in the future if we can ever get any stock of it in quantity).
Flower Travellin' Band mania has gripped Byram and Allan and others of us here at AQ. After the success of our review of the reissues of their masterpiece Satori and their debut Anywhere, we feel we ought to keep going through the catalog of this stellar '70s Japanese heavy psych rock outfit. Those who couldn't get enough of FTB's Satori will be pleased to know that their follow-up, third release Made In Japan is nearly every bit as good. Singer Joe's voice still rings in the creepy falsetto style like Alan Bishop of the Sun City Girls singing balls out heavy metal vocals. As with their previous album, "Made In Japan" continued to fuse the heavy rock of early (contemporary, to them) Sabbath with Eastern melodies. I guess they decided after their perfect rendition of "Black Sabbath" on their first record, that such was their calling. Then again, "Heaven And Hell", the penultimate track here, is as pure a channeling of Jimi Hendrix as anything. The mellow closing track "That's All", with its koto glissandi, parallels "Part V" on Satori and like that track, it's perhaps the most overtly Eastern in tone. But it's Joe's vocal line that really kicks ass. At the end of the chorus he adds a little cadenza to his howl, extending the vocal line just beyond where one's intuitively expecting a cadence. It works so fucking well, makes me stop whatever I'm doing to listen, that I wonder why more song writers don't pull that shit more often.
NOW REISSUED ON VINYL!! Slipcased, gatefold, 180 gram vinyl.
Originally released in 1973, Make Up was the final album (not counting their recent, and unfortunately disappointing, reunion disc) from these '70s Japanese heavy psych rock gods, a gatefold double LP packaged extravagantly in a stitched, brown faux-leather case! (Which this reissue replicates in cardboard slipcase facsimile form!) Despite the fancy packaging, this artifact didn't make Julian Cope's Japrocksampler Top 50, in fact he rather pans it, calling it "useless" and a "disastrous hotchpotch" (it was assembled from recordings from an ill-fated live concert as well as studio demos). However, it must be said that we don't always agree with Mr. Cope. While it may be that Make Up isn't FTB's most essential album, we think any fan will dig it. If it's perhaps a document of the Flower Travellin' Band succumbing to typical '70s dinosaur rock band excess, a la Led Zeppelin (double album, extended soloing, and a '50s rock n' roll cover), that's not necessarily a bad thing! While you need Satori first, your FTB collection will be lacking without this.
Lp one contains six songs, some studio, some live, including the rockin' title track, all of which provide singer Joe Yamanaka (FTB's not-so-secret weapon) with plenty of opportunity to wow us with his distinctive wail. FTB's more mellow, pop side is definitely on display here, with the gentle epic "Look At My Window", the bluesy, balladic "Shadows Of Lost Days", and the sad "Broken Strings" all probably prompting lighter-raising among concert goers. Heavier fare there is too, the aforementioned "Make Up", plus the ornate chug of "Slowly But Surely", and ominous opener "All The Days". We name checked Led Zep, but it's Deep Purple that FTB more likely resemble on this disc, what with the keyboards of guest Nobuhiko Shinohara.
Lo two is where this set gets really indulgent, starting off as it does with a 25 minute live version of "Hiroshima" (only 5:13 in its original version on their previous album, Made In Japan, padded out here to fill the entire album side, with a lengthy drum solo, of which we heartily approve). Heck, "Hiroshima" could go on for hours and hours as far as we're concerned, since it's chock full of the type of slightly sinister, blown-out riffage that today's stoner rockers try their hardest to recreate. In fact, thinking about it, this sounds a hell of a lot like AQ faves Los Natas! That's followed on the flip by another live track, a somewhat incongruous cover of "Blue Suede Shoes", with FTB producer (and former Group Sounds star) Yuya Uchida on vocals. This seems to the sort of thing that turned Cope off from this album, but we've seen footage of early Black Sabbath covering this tune too, so we'll let it slide. And in any event, that roots maneuver is followed by a rendition of FTB's own classic "Satori Pt. 2", ten tribally-rhythmic minutes of sinuous psych with Joe at his piercing best, a hard rock rock n' roll showman as shaman if there ever was one. And the drifting, semi-acoustic, spaced out "After The Concert" that winds things up wordlessly and beautifully can't be the cause of any of Cope's complaints.
In any case, all you proto-metalheads and acid psych loving Japanophiles can decide for yourself, thanks to this new reissue.
This is one of those albums that's neither new, nor even a recent reissue, but that we here at Aquarius decided, heck, let's list, it deserves it! (While this disc already appears on our website, it was never actually *listed* in any of our newsletters.) So while many might already know this album backwards and forwards, it has most certainly slipped through the cracks for too many others out there. Being a Japan-only import can't help. Allan wisely reordered some copies recently (when a customer special ordered it for themselves on-line) and Byram, unwittingly playing it in the store, found himself getting progressively more obsessed with the album (and the band)! It wasn't long before Jim and Marcy were also finding themselves hooked. Now almost any day you come into the store, you'll hear the Flower Travellin' Band blaring.
This is an album (and a band) that are not celebrated nearly enough -- possibly out of misguided notions of their being another bad psych knock-off among the many crowding the record racks in the early seventies. But Japan's Flower Travellin' Band were no mere cheesy imitators of occidental rock 'n roll, they were in actual fact a full-fledged, pioneering tour de force of psychedelic progressive hard rock, equalling the krautrock heavies of the era. FTB can be compared favorably to Amon Duul's better efforts with their experimental meandering (think Yeti), and the best trancey spaceouts from Can. Yet there's never a sense that FTB lose track of their compositions no matter how far out they take a track. Perhaps because even more than these experimental Krautrockers, FTB's heavy (fucking ominously heavy) sound points to a major Sabbath, Purple, and Crimson influence. Released in 1971, Satori is the band's second and arguably best album (all but the first album Anywhere have now been reissued by Warner Japan). From the first screech/howl at the beginning of track one -- "Satori Part I" (the tracks on the album are all "Satori", parts I-V) -- from vocalist Joe, who inhabits a zone somewhere between Can's Damo Suzuki and Deep Purple's Ian Gillan, the album gets straight down to business. Joe's scream is followed by a foreboding bass, guitar and drum dirge that's straight up collision between Cream and Black Sabbath in which no one survives. It's got so much more teeth than either, it's not even funny, predating punk by a good many years. "Satori Part II" however is quintessential FTB Over a pounding tribal drumbeat, alternating between a buzzing sitar-esque guitar drone and a melody line that curls ripples and lilts like a plume of burning incense smoke, guitarist Hideki Ishima lays out one of the creepiest, coolest guitar leads ever. If that ain't enough, vocalist Joe's singing is like that of Axl Rose being channelled by the Sun City Girls! Even if the rest of the album were total shit -- which it ain't -- the cost of this cd would still be well worth it for this song alone! "Part III" -- an instrumental -- picks up where II leaves off but slows the tempo down to a deathly pace, which makes it even heavier. This is the Sabbath influence on FTB writ large. Replete with an improv freakout before returning to the original riff and building into a frenzied crescendo. Needless to say, if you weren't bobbing your head at the beginning of the song, you will be by its end. "Part IV" could be considered FTB's "blues" number, with Joe picking up the harmonica instead of singing. But instead of churning out the expected twelve bar formula, FTB truncate the form and construct a minimalist jam around a short riff instead. "Part V" shows yet another facet of FTB's seemingly infinite potential with Hideki (?) playing some kick ass, spooky koto-like guitar overdubbed on top of some heavy psych. Damn! They could have done ten fucking albums around this schtick alone and probably never lost our interest... sigh... but this (and the other two that are also available, look for reviews in future) will have to suffice for now. Absolutely, fucking recommended!!!!
MPEG Download: "Satori Part II" [/audio/flowersatori2.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Satori Part II" [/audio/flowersatori2.m3u]
We were all ready to hate this, not cuz we don't dig the players, we love Michael Flower (Vibracathedral, Sunroof!) and Chris Corsano is a ruling drummer, it's just that for some reason we thought this was gonna be some of that new fangled indie free jazz, which always leaves us a bit cold. Not sure why, maybe it was the 'duo' thing. But then it's on VHF, home to much of our favorite dronemusic and outrock, and the instrumentation definitely looked like anything but free jazz: Japan banjo, tanpura, organ, melodica, cello and drums. So we figured, okay, what the heck, let's give it a try, and BAM, this totally knocked out socks off and our teeth in, at once exactly what we had hoped for, but something we never would have imagined, some impossible hybrid of frenetic chaotic drumming, and strange super distorted looped melodic mantras, like some impossible sonic hybrid of Mick Barr and Dan Higgs, or Orthrelm covering Zomes, tripped out and psychedelic, wild as fuck, but weirdly hypnotic and totally mesmerizing.
The opener is a mad blowout of wild melodies super distorted and all tangled up, like some strange sped up bagpipe, wound around Corsano's non stop drum workout, the banjo here ends up sounding like the guitars on Amps For Christ records, unfurling intense abstract runs of notes and fragmented melodies, sometimes locking into little trills, other times getting all wavery and woozy, the drums somehow remaining totally free but staying locked in with Flower's wild psych freakouts. It's so inherently chaotic and raw and primal and by all rights should be difficult to listen, but after a few minutes, we find ourselves totally lost, and we never want it to end.
The follow up is more of a percussive free jam, reminding us of groups like Avarus and Anaksimandros and No Neck and Sunburned Hand, very free, but with the metallic shimmer spreading out over the warm low end whirs and the abstract gamelan like melodies. "The Drifter's Miracles" is the most obviously VHF of the batch, a long languorous slow burning ur-drone, all bowed stings and wheezing organ, very raga like, overtones shifting and beating against one another, bits or percussion clink and clank beneath the gloriously heaving sea of rich lustrous tones, this definitely could be a whole record, as it is, it's easily the most 'listenable' of the bunch.
"The Beginning Of The End" sounds like a field recording of some ritualistic musical performance, the sound muted and lo-fi, a sort of crazed dance, the drums a wild tribal patter, sometimes splatter, Flower again offering up dense tangles and billowing squiggles, there is definitely a free jazz element, but the duo manage to take the loose free drumming, and the manic looped sounding melodies and create a sort of abstract ultra free ur-drone, it's quite magical actually, the parts are so frenetic and tense and relentless, that it seems impossible that combining them would create something soothing and spiritual, but that's precisely what it does.
The closer, the nearly 18 minute "The Main Ingredient" is like a more jubilant, ebullient version of the record opener, the drums muter and minimal, still skittery and feral, but Flower's banjo weaving magical crystalline shapes in the air, melodies, notes, tones, harmonies, overtones, all shimmering and hovering and looping and stuttering and glistening, total Amps For Christ / Higgs / Orthrelm sun baked lysergic spiritual ur-drone free jazz out rock blowout. So completely heavy, and epic, and dreamlike, and tripped out, and intense and so so beautiful.
The Israeli band The Flourescents delve into retrogarde indie theatricality with a bombastic vocal delivery like Peter Murphy, with multiple attack fuzz guitars playing a Make Up style glam-rock revival.
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The new Old! Avant/ambient/ex-grindcore guitarist James Plotkin returns with the perfect, hypnotic, techno-pop experiment! (That's techno in the sense of "done with machines".) Vocalist Ruth Collins adds her quite good spoken word poetry (a la Lori Carson in the Golden Palominos), and production is handled by Mick Harris of Scorn fame. Highly recommended.
Flux Information Sciences is a NYC band that arrived nearly two decades too late sounding not unlike Cop Shoot Cop or Michael Gira's first band Circus Mort -- dark, angular, sorta heavy art-rock with a 'clowns are scary' bent. They feature members of Gunga Din, and nostalgiacally found their way onto Gira's Young God Records.
Those Constellation kids up in Canada have a lot of ideas that don't have anything to do with the psychic desolation of Godspeed You Black Emperor. While some of these ideas are good ones, they run the risk of getting compared to Godspeed simply by association. Fly Pan Am is one of those Godspeed-related projects that really shouldn't be, or should keep their membership a mystery, so folks can enjoy this for what it is, with no disappointment. (I guess we're not helping out with that here, are we?). Anyway, "Sedatif En Frequences Et Sillons" is an enjoyable, lengthy three track ep of post rock / non-jazzy grooviness that sounds as if a band like Pell Mell or Tristeza were trying to mimic Public Image Limited's "Metal Box / Second Edition." Featuring remixes from their self-titled debut release.
Canada's Fly Pan Am shares the same label with AQ-and-everyone-else's-faves Godspeed You Black Emperor, and they also share a touring member of that band. Like a less majestic Godspeed, this is a very hypnotic array of looping post-indie guitar riffs, musique concrete fragments, and filmic grooves, all layered under a lite haze of static-y crackle. Lovely.
Beginning in a more than minimal, airy fashion, Le Fly Pan Am's new album swiftly breaks into a clamorous funky groove. Their cyclical bass and guitar lines gradually give way to hypnotic woodblocky tic-toc rhythms and circuit crunching fuckery which then
The title translates into English as "don't listen", but we'll be darned if we're going to let The Fly Pan Am tell us what to do with their newest album.
The second you press play on your cd player you'll notice something's different in FPA land (as is also reflected in their most vibrant and busy cover art to date) -- a departure of sorts from these French Canadians' well-trodden path of krautrock influenced jams. N'Ecoutez Pas is definitely on the more aggressive side of things with much seething raw rock energy, it pounds and gallops instead of grooves. When they appear, vocals come in the form of mutterings, textural whisperings and unhinged screaming (yes, screaming!). The calmer more familiar hypnotic, atmospheric moments as well as some nods to punchy retro pop ("Vos Reves Revers") do surface later in the album though. Mainman Roger Tellier-Craig (also guitarist for Godspeed You Black Emperor) has assembled another strong supporting cast for FPA's third full length excursion that includes AQ fave Tim Hecker. Pretty darn cool.
Remastered and reissued, this release collects pretty much all the essential material by this seminal post-Byrds California country rock band featuring Gram Parsons. Includes everything from their first three albums, "The Gilded Palace of Sin," "Burrito Deluxe," and "The Flying Burrito Brothers". In addition you get some later stuff and singles, and 2 songs from the live album "The Last of the Red Hot Burritos". Informative liner notes, photos (man, what outfits!), and credits round out the package.
The Flying Burrito Bros were formed in 1969 by Gram Parsons, dearly departed father of country rock whose legend is still growing ever larger as his influence continues to be felt. I could go on and on and on about what a genius Parsons was, but then this description would be pages long, and anyway Ben Fong-Torres already wrote a book about 'im (Hickory Wind: The Life and Times of Gram Parsons, highly recommended).
After leaving The Byrds, with whom he recorded just a single perfect album, Sweetheart of the Rodeo, Parsons formed the Burritos with ex-Byrd Chris Hillman and other compatriots. Though the Burritos have released many records since their inception, the only ones that Gram appears on are the first two, both of which appear here in their entirety (the "Train Song" single is also included here, making Sin City more complete than the other best-of comp, Farther Along). While the second Burritos album was in progress, Parsons starting hanging with Keith Richards and Mick Jagger, who let him record the stunning version of "Wild Horses" found here. He drifted away from the band (or was asked to leave). In 1971 and '72 he released the two flawless solo albums, GP and Grievous Angel, that sealed his reputation as legend. By 1973 he was dead.
The two Burrito Brothers albums, then, are essential to any Parsons fan's collection, as well as fans of country rock, and "No Depression"-style alt.country in general. The combination of catchy melodies, rollicking good humor, joyous twang, and solid rock backbone make these records essential listening. Get this now!
Newly reissued on vinyl, here's what we said about the cd:
While the Flying Lizards are best remembered for their new wave / post punk antics in the '70s - avantgarde electronic novelty covers of pop tunes, most famously the dub influenced tinkering of their jaunty version of "Money (That's What I Want)" from '79, they had a more serious interest in dub and experimentation as well. "The Secret Dub Life..." is an example of such that should not go unnoticed, and here we have a reissue to check out. The somewhat murky story is that back in 1978, Flying Lizards main man David Cunningham was given the chance to remix some tracks laid down by Jah Lloyd and some unidentified Jamaican musicians. Confronted with a mono master only (and with no fancy studio or samplers at his disposal) he had to be rather inventive with the mixes, doing them in his free time so that this album was only fully completed and released in 1995! (Although, his original experience with these mixes informed much of his subsequent work through the eighties, we're told in his liner notes.) Real nice, authentic sounding low-tech ambient dub stuff, loaded with weird sound effects, and really not at all like the Flying Lizards "hits" you may have heard.
Wow, we kind of forgot what a weird and wonderful record this is. We've always had a place for the Flying Lizards in our hearts, but their blaze post-punk dub covers of fifties and sixties songs always seemed to outshine their other interesting qualities. Led by avant-composer David Cunningham, with the help of David Toop, Vivien Goldman, Steve Beresford and the flat vocal delivery of Deborah Evans, The Flying Lizards got their break when Virgin released their first single in 1979, a purposely skewed and dispassionate version of Eddie Cohran's "Summertime Blues" and it became a minor hit. But it was their second single and more enduring cover of Barret Strong's "Money" with its clanging prepared piano and trap percussion that got them on the charts and signed for a full album deal. That song gets a little overplayed these days, but the long version has one of the best extended dub breakdowns of the period that just doesn't get played enough. But besides the two covers and the channeling of Dagmar Krause (Slapp Happy, Henry Cow, The Art Bears) in the goofy cover of Kurt Weil's "Der Song Von Mandelay" that opens the record, lies a much stranger record. Sure there is the punk disco of "Her Story", "TV" and the danceable experimentation of "Russia". But there also is the triptych of minimalist dub experiments in the tracks "Flood" "Trouble" and "Events During Flood" that take the record to a much darker place. Culminating with Vivien Goldman's hushed and strange "The Window", proving that although the band was a one hit wonder, they were no one trick pony. This reissue doesn't contain the bonus tracks of previous reissues, but does include the single edit of "Money". Here's hoping Microwerks will reissue their other two records, Fourth Wall and Top Ten as well! Great stuff!
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Reissued Weasel Walter classic.
Trauma finds long time no wave free jazz attackers the Flying Luttenbachers doing their usual brutal best to channel the spirits of Brotzmann and Ayler and Takayanagi and the like. It's primal stuff originally recorded in 2001, newly reissued on cd for those that missed it the first time, and want a taste of that intensely improv Luttenbachers phase (before their more recent forays into tech guitar mutant metal prog scifi spasms). On this disc, squealing saxophone and rumbling bass vie with the frenzied percussive pummel of bandleader Weasel Walter, the whole screaming machinegunning shebang never really letting up (the eleven tracks on this nearly 70 minute disc are aptly titled "Trauma 1" through "Trauma 11").
Go to YouTube to watch this (http://youtube.com/watch?v=PU4pVVM5wb4) brilliant video for a track from Trauma, depicting panic in the streets and the nightmarish effects of multiple nuclear blasts, for which the Luttenbacher's freeform blasting is the perfect soundtrack. The images, so scary in the '80s (they're all edited together from the TV movie The Day After, remember that?) hilariously, horrifically fit the music and vice versa. No more need be said by us, that should do the trick.
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The notorious Weasel Walter and co. return with their seventh album of Chicago death-jazz spazz. This album features two almost diameterically opposed covers: "De Futura" by French prog giants Magma and "Black Perversion" by sub-cult black metal band Havohej, both fitting in nicely along with the Flying Luttenbachers' usual skree. Instrumentation on this disc includes mellotron, cello (played by Fred Lonberg-Holm) and 'abyssic guitar', in addition to the more ordindary drums, bass, saxophone, etc.
Holy crap. This is the Luttenbachers' fourteenth (we think) album release, the follow-up to 2004's The Void. Their instrumental insanity features as always drummer extraordinare Weasel Walter (Lake Of Dracula/Hatewave), this time assisted by these three equally high-level technicians: on guitars Ed Rodriguez (Gorge Trio/Colossamite/Iceburn) and Mick Barr (Ocrilim/Octis/Orthrelm/Crom Tech), and on bass Mike Green (Burmese). Together they're an unstoppable frenzied skronk attack, pulling stop-start ADD fretboard and percussive maneuvers off in their own blackened jazz sci-fi galaxy... It's like (heck, it is) metallic mathrockers practicing their scales, ensemble style, amidst a barrage of ominous dirge. The appropriate response at the end of each piece can only be "Whew!". If you haven't heard the Luttenbachers before (or only their earlier material with jazz horns and not so much electric guitar), but do like Mick Barr's various bands, you will like this -- Barr fans needn't hesitate!!
The song titles are ever so appropriate: "Demonic Velocities", "Insektoid Horror", "The Elimination Of Incompetence"... They are masters of their realm, that's for sure. And their special brand of heaviness is one that can go from a punishing rocker like "Interstellar War" into the relative calm and beauty of "Movement Four Of L'Ascension" (yes, an Olivier Messiaen cover).
By the way, despite the lack of lyrics, this is a concept album, just like their last few releases. Have you been following along, and learning the future fate of the Earth? No? Well don't say they didn't warn you...
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Now-on-cd reissue of vinyl from a few years back, this Chicago no-wave jazz improv combo makes an unholy racket worthy of their death/black metal heroes, but different. Featuring drummer Weasel Walter and reedsman Ken Vandermark (who replaced original Luttenbacher Hal Russell).
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Available on lp (but very limited!!)
Wow. It's strange, after never having ever heard of this guy before like, 2 years ago, now I've practically got a whole shelf full of Henry Flynt cds -- all terrific stuff recorded at least two decades back, but only recently seeing the light of day. And they keep coming. This new one dates from way back in 1966, and is billed as a youthful Flynt's NYC art-punk garage rock band. That made us a little apprehensive (we've never really been Fugs fans, and that's what we thought it might sound like), but actually this turned out to be totally amazing! Most of the other Flynt recordings that have come out feature his violin playing, in a kind of '60s minimalism meets Appalachian folk style. But with The Insurrections (with Walter de Maria on drums, later famous for his Lightning Field scupture in the New Mexican desert) Flynt plays guitar instead of fiddle. It's weird country bluesy drone protest rock as only an academic hillbilly Fluxus artist could conceive. The Velvets meet a jug band at an acid test? Not quite, but close. No mere historical document, this is revelatory stuff, not sounding thirty years old but timeless instead. And the recording quality of this rehearsal tape is more than adequate. Somewhere betwixt hoedown and raga, these nine tracks represent a divergent strain of beat music not commonly associated with 1966 (though, that was the year of Black Monk Time, which this doesn't sound like, though you can imagine Flynt woulda liked that Monks LP, and for sure he shared their opinion of Uncle Sam). Again, a dusty tape from the vaults that puts today's crop of avant-blues-improv shitkickers to shame, whoever they are. Recommended.
Another fantastic Miasmah release, this one from FNS, aka Fredrik Ness Sandoval, who besides playing in a whole bunch of Norwegian bands we've never heard of, has collaborated with members of Acid Mothers Temple, 1/3 Octave Band, the Cranes, Zeni Geva, and Marble Sheep, but here on his solo debut, Sandoval crafts a gorgeous expanse of minimal psychedelic folk, that reminds us both of local dronefolk duo Barn Owl, but also space kraut astral travelers Expo 70.
Imagine folk music transformed into druggy drifty dreamy space ragas, and you'll be getting close, acoustic guitars unfurl gorgeous trancelike stretches of almost Appalachia like strum, while all around, effects swirl, other guitars are layered and woven into the original guitar, creating fantastical stretches of psychedelic drift, of abstract dronekraut minimalism, all infused with a subtle pathos, even the sunshiniest of the tracks here, brood with a somber undercurrent. The record opener sets the stage perfectly, an acoustic guitars strums a melancholy chord progression, while another guitar churns and chugs, a rhythmic counterpoint to the woozy drift of the acoustic, this undulating space raga is laced with tinkling chimes, swooping backwards effects, all wreathed in a sort of otherworldly shimmer, and allowed to loop and repeat and mesmerize, growing subtly more intense and loud, but never fully letting loose, instead, eventually shedding all the extra guitars and strange production, leaving just the warm strummed acoustic, and little streaks of backwards swoop. We say it a lot, but Sandoval could have stretched that out to 40 or 50 minutes and we'd STILL be raving about it. And that applies to all the tracks here.
"Sappelur" is a smoldering blackened dirge, roiling clouds of processed buzz, muted feedback, lots of layered tones and lush chordal blur, a lovely blown out psychedelic haze that just throbs and pulses and drifts, right into "Wooden Leg", which returns to the folk of the album opener, but unlike that track, the progression here is much more subtle, it's nearly 2 or 3 minutes before a strange drone begins to surface, along with gorgeous angelic female vocals, soon male vocals join in as well, not singing so much as sort of crooning along, the result is a darker, more menacing take on classic seventies British acid folk.
"I Think She's Asleep" is more abstract, a gorgeous shimmery dreamscape, all layered tones, and pulled apart melodies, haunting and otherwordly, hushed and lovely, very reminiscent of folks like Machinefabriek and Jasper TX. "Dream" is surprisingly less dreamy, sounding instead like some strange sonic ritual, spidery guitars wrapped around twisted damaged electronics, while the vocals transform the sound into something almost liturgical, lots of reverb and echo, as if it were being performed in some massive black cathedral, the effects swirling and swooping, and pushing the sound into the realms of spacekrautdrone for sure.
Finally, the record closes with the epic 12 minute "Flaggermusvingers Vift I Dimmet", which again begins as a slowly unfurling lush sprawl of melancholy Appalachia, all minor key and mournful, while just below the surface, some thick blackened buzzing is birthed, and as the track progresses, it grows more and more caustic, roiling and churning, eventually nearly swallowing the Appalachia whole, transforming the sound into some washed out doomgaze, all woozy and swirly, the low end swells laced with tangled psychedelic melodies, before dropping out completely, leaving just a soft focus cloud of distant reverbed shimmer, a distant cosmic vibration, that seems to gradually fade, like the stars disappearing behind the clouds.
Dark and dreamy and druggy and so so gorgeous... For fans of Expo 70, Svarte Greiner, Barn Owl, Jacaszek, Nadja, Jasper TX, Machinefabriek, Fear Falls Burning and other purveyors of doomfolk, krautdrone, spacefolk and all sorts of abstract minimal guitarscapery...
With the third album from Bristol's Foehn, Fat Cat introduces their Splinter series and make another reason to delay releasing those cool split singles. Foehn's aesthetic has solidified into sound-noir, if you will, where dark passages of everyday ambience twist into 28 short cuts of ploddingly slow instrumental filmic jazz riffs. Not far from Barry Adamson in scope though far less narrative.
Deb from Foehn had worked from time to time with Third Eye Foundation, providing some extra murk to the gritty drum & bass dirges, but has since moved on to release work on her own. "Silent Light" is her second full album, collecting 21 fragments of theatrical murkiness. As a whole the album is devoid of any structural coherency, but maintains a noirish similarity to Andrea Parker or Barry Adamson. It's the aural equivalent of being trapped in a maze of darkened alleys wandering past nearly broken boom boxes emiting squelches and fragments of Adamson or Parker,
Releasing his music under such names as Foetus, Scraping Foetus Off The Wheel, Foetus Interruptus,
Foetus Under Glass and perhaps the best one, You've Got Foetus On Your Breath, J. G. Thirlwell has proven himself to be one hell of a monstrous musical dynamo. Over a quarter century, with little or no fanfare, he's consistently and methodically laid his contemporaries to waste. This is his latest full length, titled Love. The visual simplicity of this, another of his trademark four-letter word album titles, stands in complete contrast to the unbelievably complex, wildly imaginative compositions contained within, however as is usually the case the chosen word (Nail, Blow, Gash, Flow, Hole to name a few others) can be interpreted and defined in oh so many many ways. Love is no exception. Often lazily compared to the likes of Skinny Puppy or Nine Inch Nails, let it be known, Foetus is another beast entirely. Thirlwell nails the soundtracks for your most terrifying, twisted dreams and beautiful, perverse nightmares effortlessly in the form of thunderously bombastic orchestrations. Epic.
Includes a dvd with early live footage, three videos one of which was directed by Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Karen O, and some trailers for Adult Swim's Venture Bros TV show for which Thirlwell composed the theme song.
Finally reissued on cd! Nail is Foetus' fourth album which was originally released in 1985. Whoa, that's twenty two years ago! So damn criminally underrated and unjustly lumped in with the less stellar, more single-minded 'industrial' artists on the Wax Trax label, the time is right to set the record straight...
Like an orchestral clash of Birthday Party, Swans and Einsturzende Neubauten set in a tawdry cabaret deep in the seediest underbelly of the darkest noir flick imaginable? Close, but better! A one-man symphony, wrecking crew, and/or runaway train, Foetus' music is truly fierce, mean, nihilistic and... absolutely brilliant, black humored and beautiful! Some might say that he works in similarly multi-genre meltdowns, enormous scopes and sprawling ranges as Mr. Bungle or Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, and they'd certainly be correct, but Foetus was doing it all by his lonesome years before those groups. Furthermore, he was an influential wizard behind the scenes too, co-producing early Coil albums, and collaborating with other (in)famous aural beacons Nurse With Wound, Sonic Youth, Marc Almond, The The, Nick Cave, and Lydia Lunch to name just a few. (Re)visit this wonder... a seething, scathing, festering and perversely enticing musical menace. Highly recommended.
Note: Yes, this is a bit of a pricey import, but we haven't heard any word about a domestic reissue.
Whoa Fog, we almost mistook your latest full length for a Beck album! Mind you, not any that Mr. Hansen's released to date, but sorta like one that he might make in an alternate universe. And with regards to the album's title, we wanna let you know that we haven't really registered much of a freakout here. If there were any, they must've been deeply internalized. No, this is slouchy, boyish, shufflin' about. They've always had indie rock leanings, but 10th Avenue Freakout pushes the farthest in that direction to date. Still very eclectic though, and much more cohesive than their previous release, the meandering Hummer EP.
