The critical status quo qualifies Neu! 75 as the best of three albums, simply because it is the most musically adept and holds the most studio polish. While we here at Aquarius are not going to deny that Neu! 75 isn't a great and possibly required album, we
The two previous albums were infused with a bold spirit of experimentations that led to the mutable pace of the motorik grooves on "Negativland" (from Neu! 1), and the idiosyncratic "remixes" from Neu! 2. While Klaus Dinger's percussion remains unchanged from the first two releases, Michael Rother moves away from the risk-taking agendas from the first two albums, to a more commonplace rock schtick. Rother's guitars hold a greater range of dynamics with beautifully soaring Pink Floyd-esque harmonics to gritty aggro / glam rock power chords, but his insistance on singing much more isn't a great idea. As previously mentioned, Neu! was a profound influence for David Bowie; thus, it is not a coincidence that Neu!'s "Hero" (from Neu! 75) predates Bowie's "Heroes" by a good two years.
PHAK YEAH!! It's been, like, ten years since this local groop, the 'South East Asian' alter ego of sonic subversives Mono Pause, put out their debut album, which became quite a bit of a hit here at aQ. Now at long last they've recorded a follow-up full-length, featuring the anthemic track "Fucking USA" which appeared on a 7" single some years back, along with ten more brand new cuts of their exuberant ethno-rock exotica.
Among several AQ pals, Neung Phak's ranks include Mark Gergis (of Porest), who is the man responsible for a lot of our favorite Sublime Frequencies releases (and who now runs the likeminded Sham Palace label too). So you know that this band's take on various forms of traditional pop musics from Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Indonesia, and elsewhere is well researched, steeped in firsthand knowledge probably gleaned on a backpacking / cassette-tape-digging trip overseas...
Neung Phak should definitely appeal to fans of Dengue Fever, trafficking in the same sort of groovy vintage Cambodian Rocks style psych pop, but with more of a twisted, fucked up edge to it, in the tradition of the late great Sun City Girls - whose Abduction label put this out, and whose Alan Bishop makes a cameo appearance.
"Fucking USA", which they would have us believe was recorded in Pyongyang, is probably the most punk rockish thing on here, but the whole album is exceedingly energetic and effervescent. And full of surprises - like the distorted electronic noise and free jazz freakouts that erupt in the middle of foreign-language funk vamp "Sa-Ha".
Make no mistake, though, even with the sometimes crazed vocals and distorted acid rock guitars, many of these tracks are dancefloor fillers, for sure! Their wild East-West hybrid may have its faux-ethnic elements, but they don't fake the funk. It's like the music Funkadelic would have made if drafted and sent to Vietnam in the '70s, then gone AWOL and playing in some dive bar with local musicians.
Meanwhile, the disc's closer, "Sad Chatri", is a seven-minute psychedelic slow burner, its grooves more for nodding out than getting down. Damn good, as is this whole album, highly recommended!
By the way, this was also released on limited vinyl as well, a couple months ago, but that lp version went out of print too darn fast for us to list - though we may just have 1 copy left if you act quick...
If Dengue Fever is an homage to the sort of band you might see in a clean well lit Cambodian bar, classy and melodic, with sweet pop vocals, then Neung Phak is a tribute to the sort of band you'd go to see around the corner from the nice clubs, down the alley, enter through the back, sitting in the gloom, in a cracked vinyl booth, letting the wild Southeast Asian pop rock wash your cares away. Neung Phak, aka Oakland's Monopause, have become masters of whatever SE Asian musics they decide to tackle be it Thai, Laotian, Vietnamese, Taiwanese, or Cambodian, made possible by the band's adept interpretations, but more importantly the band's vocalists Diana Hayes and Joi Po Dee, who are Thai and Laotian.
Side A is the title track, "Fucking USA", a vintage pop rock tune, big band arrangements, horns, fuzzy psychedelic guitars, with the only bit of vocals in English, being the shouted "Fucking USA!!" Catchy and fun, and so genuine sounding it sounds like it came straight off one of those Sublime Frequencies discs. We can imagine this will be a hit... overseas anyway.
The B side features two tracks recorded live for the radio, the first was immediately familiar, due in no small part to its frequent instore play, as it's a track from Neung Phak's full length, "Tui Tui Tui" with it's super catchy, totally recognizable chorus over a lush big band arrangement, with warm horns, understated guitars and shuffling drums. Originally performed by Yim Yamsupan, and quite possibly one of our favorite Southeast Asian pop songs EVER. The second track is a slowed down version of the title track, with the title changed to "Far King USA" for radio play, the whole thing a lugubrious, moody croon, with mournful piano, haunting vocals, somber and minor key.
Pressed on super thick vinyl and packaged in a thick full color sleeve, with hilarious (and perhaps problematic) cover art!
Limited to 300 copies.
Of course the first thing that will unfortunately happen for Neung Phak (a.k.a. Mono Pause) are the inevitable comparisons to Dengue Fever. And to come to their defence (and we're devout fans of Dengue Fever as well) Neung Phak have not only began working on these tracks prior to Dengue Fever's inception, but the music of the two bands are apples and oranges. Neung Phak (literal Thai translation of Mono Pause) is a new line-up and musical direction for the East Bay experimental music veterans Mono Pause. Featuring Diana Hayes and Joi Po Dee on vocals (Thai and Lao respectively) and some cameo appearances from Sun City Girl Alan Bishop, Neung Phak have done their homework when it comes to pop music of SE Asia. Less a fusion of styles, as seems to be the general trend with occidental ethno-pop bands, than a thoroughly researched compilation of SE Asian pop music genres, with each individual track being an excellently re-created execution of a particular idiom; be it Thai, Laotian, Vietnamese, Taiwanese, Cambodian or Khmer. The album kicks off with "Hired By The King" an excellent toe-tapping mo lam like track (a Neung Phak original) with superb kaen (the ubiquitous mouth organ of the region) playing by Erik Gergis and accompanied by electric bass, electric guitar (picked like a mandolin or oud would be) and percussion (a track later on in the disc "Fired By The King" is similar, though featuring an out of tune bass line that's apparently popular in many of the originals). In stark contrast what follows is a cover of a Thai country pop tune from 1998, an adorably cute up-beat number featuring percussive nasal vocals ("Tui, Tui, Tui") by Diana Hayes. Still keeping the pace going, the group continues with a couple Cambodian Rocks-esque numbers that are probably as close to Dengue Fever as you'll hear Neung Phak get; the first track being a Khmer hit from the 80's and the second a Cambodian ballad featuring Alan Bishop on she-male vocals. In addition to these songs, the group has actually recreated portions of radio dramas from Vietnam and Laotian theatrical mo lam, the latter is an absolute noise freak out and not over-embellished at all according to sources. Highly recommended!
New albums from old faves come and go, but when you say, there's a new Neurosis, we sit up and pay attention. Like contemporaries the Melvins, they've reached an iconic, utterly influential status at this point in their long career -- and yet still keep making rad, relevant albums that keep pushing their now archetypal sound further. Pioneers who keep on pioneering, getting better and better, even as hordes of other bands copy them and try to keep up. The word on the street was that Given To The Rising was a "return to the heavy" for Neurosis, not like they ever really left. But yes, this is HEAVY. We can't say (like we did about A Sun That Never Sets) that is is a "kinder, gentler" Neurosis. Not at all. The riffs will slay you, the vocals are fierce, yet the scope (musical, emotional) of this disc is impressively broad... The proggy, psychedelic, post-rock and (dare we say) gloom-pop elements that run like a dark thread through their discography are present on these ten tracks, mostly all of epic lengths (as usual). Harrowing power. Depressive beauty. Ritual rumble. Alienated lyrics. Soft-loud dynamics. Droning space-outs. All utterly "owned" by the Neurosis crew. This band just levels everything and everyone in their path!
This is one that will satisfy old school Neurosis fans and yet would be a perfect first-time Neurosis experience too. For instance -- although we can't imagine this is too likely! -- if there are any Jesu fans out there who haven't ever heard Neurosis, do yourself a favor and pick this up pronto!! Arguably their best album since 1999's classic Times Of Grace.
PS while supplies last, we've got a bonus dvd that comes with the cd... oh and also there WILL be a vinyl pressing, but it's not out yet.
At the most recent New Pornographers show here leader Carl Newman fielded the audience's unanimous request that the group release another album of new material. Newman claimed that if anyone really wanted high quality New Porn material they would have to wait, but that he would gladly send us all crappy mp3s tomorrow if we wished. While our own request for those "crappy" mp3s has gone unheeded, we are slightly mollified by this 3 track ep from our friends from the Great White North. This single is, as you may have guessed from the title, not exactly entirely new material, but was a companion release to 'Mass Romantic' for its European release there last year. And it has taken us this long to get our grubby paws on them. We can skip 'Letter From An Occupant' as it has been covered in detail already (although we never tire of listening to it). Of the two new tracks on this disc, 'The End of Medicine' is a N.P. original and 'When I Was A Baby' is a cover of Andee's favorite Donner Party song. We're happy to inform that these two new ditties are worth waiting for. 'The End of Medicine' is classic N.P. material that will have you humming the chorus hours after listening to this ep. And unlike the nursery rhyme-like 'naughty little boy' acoustic version presented by the Donner Party, the N.P.'s start the track off with just Neko Case backed by guitar, which becomes an almost tearjerkingly beautiful waltz arrangement with the full band kicking in and Carl taking up the lead vocals and backed in harmony by all else. The one downside to the song and the ep as a whole is its brevity. I find myself just replaying the thing over and over to satisfy my need for more N.P.
Now in on LP!!! And it's about damn time! The first pressing of this glorious pop album was gone in such a flash we barely caught a glimpse of it, but now we've got the AQ ultra fave pop album in splendid vinyl abundance with lyric sheet to boot! So go on! Sing your lil' hearts out!
In case you somehow missed our gushing about the cd version (or your memory's a bit foggy), here's what we had to say:
Amazing pop maestro Carl Newman (Zumpano, Superconductor) heads the star-studded cast of what is, to AQ's collective ears, simply THE BEST POP ALBUM OF THE YEAR 2000. When was the last time the AQ staff and our wildly differing tastes happened to *unanimously* agree on a single album's brilliance? Maybe Neutral Milk's second record? The Soft Bulletin or Conet Project? Suffice to say that this happens very rarely, and that's how good this New Pornographers record is. "Mass Romantic" is absolutely shiningly great power pop, with influences as wide-ranging as Big Star, the Zombies, Eno, the Beach Boys, Cheap Trick, and Built to Spill.
Not since, well, the last Zumpano record (or Silver Sun's debut) has a pop record emerged that's this powerful, kickass, well-crafted and totally complex. Really. Each of the twelve tracks is a fully realised pop creation unto itself. Intelligent, infectious, and uplifting, with truly flawless arrangements (the key to pop greatness).
In a sparkling non-country spin, the wonderful Neko Case lends her vocal gusto to complete the soaring FOUR-PART vocals on such gems as "Letter From An Occupant" not to mention the title track. And the four other members of the New Pornographers are super talents in their own right: Daniel Bejar (the enigmatic figure behind the very Nilsson-influenced combo known as Destroyer), John Collins (bassist/engineer for the Nardwuar the Human Serviette-lead freakos the Evaporators, garage-pop stalwarts Smugglers, and the rock army known as Superconductor), Kurt Dahle (drummer for Canadian college popsters Limblifter), and indie filmmaker Blaine Thurier.
Recommended for everyone -- even if you only buy one pop or rock record this year, this should be it.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Sound the trumpets (hey, there is one on this album!), the third album from Vancouver's New Pornographers has arrived and it's nothing short of glorious! If you're even remotely familiar with us here at AQ, you know that we've championed this pop wunderkind since the very beginning (and maybe it can be said, even before that if you count our affection for their predecessor Zumpano). We celebrate the fact that their debut album Mass Romantic was an instant unanimous hit around these parts long before practically anywhere else (even prior to much of their homeland catchin' on!). Of course these days everyone is more than familiar with these guys' pop songwriting mighty might. Heck, they can't help but know it themselves, however they haven't just rested on their laurels nor have they gotten too clever for their own good. They remain steadfastly earnest and humble in the ways only Canadians can truly be (just check out that dorkier-than-dorky guitar 'solo' on the album's opener and title track... it's a hoot!).
Whereas Mass Romantic was a millennium freak of nature in its wall-to-wall power pop fireworks -- c'mon, the kind of spontaneous, unabashed puppy-dog romp bursting from songs like "Letter From An Occupant" can't be planned nor easily replicated -- 2003's Electric Version proved to be more of a grow-on-you kind of album. Slightly clouded by self-awareness and the pressure of elevated expectations, its hooks and charms weren't as immediate, but eventually that album put some solid roots down in our hearts too. So needless to say we were eagerly anticipating album number 3. And after just a couple of listens (who are we kidding? we've been playing it non-stop!), we can say that Twin Cinema nestles itself right in between. Having hurdled past the sophomore jinx obstacles and having numerous individual projects under their belts in the interim, the seven band members have once again reconvened with a remarkable effortlessness and consistency. We'd dare proclaim that the album even betters on both of its predecessors in certain aspects.
All the usual New Pornographers are present and accounted for. Tossing his delightful eccentricities into the mix, the elusive Dan Bejar surfaces for his sporadic appearances singing tales about his mysterious "Jackie" character once again. Carl Newman and Bejar can both be downright cryptic and non-sequitur-ish in the lyric department, but that certainly doesn't prevent you from gleefully singing along to lines like "Listenin' too long to one song, sing me Spanish Techno!" (wha'? huh?). If anything these peculiarities offer a neat contrast to their comparatively straight-forward guitar and piano leads. That said, they have stretched their creative limbs a little further adding nice touches like the dizzying vocal loops in "Falling Through Your Clothes", the cascading line from the abovementioned trumpet in "Stacked Crooked" and the even more effecting multi-part vocals that grace every song. Speaking of which, everyone's vocal performances are top notch with more full-on falsetto all around. Hurrah!
There's lots of fan-pleasing moments such as on the fourth song "The Bleeding Heart Show" which winds up with a big ol' chorus of "hey-la! hey-la!"s that's pushed over the top by an outtro counter-melody sung by noneother than Ms Neko Case. Definitely an album highlight, that tune has an air of sentimentality that feels like it was written specifically for a 'driving out of town' scene in a movie. Actually it was this song that was playing when our now-former co-worker (and major NP fanatic) Byram said his final farewell to the shop. Awww. Of course, if he hadn't left, it would rightfully be him writing this review, but we'll do our best in his absence. Anyways, we should let you know that this time around not all of the female vocal parts were sung by Neko Case, but don't get yourself in a panic! She does sing a whole bunch, but two other young ladies' sweet voices chime in as well -- one of them is Ms Nora O'Connor and the other is Carl Newman's long-lost niece Kathryn Calder (of their Mint Records labelmates The Immaculate Machine). And y'know what? You might have a hard time figuring out who's singing what 'cause despite each singer having distinct, seemingly recognizable voices, they all melt together into a single New Pornographers voice.
But back on the subject of Twin Cinema as a whole, it effectively strikes a balance of exuberantly vibrant hues and darker bittersweet shades. Indeed, there's an undercurrent of wistfulness (not quite heavy nor somber enough to be called melancholic) that runs throughout the fourteen songs, however it certainly doesn't dampen any spirits. Whereas Electric Version didn't have many instantly ass-kickin' pop anthems, Twin Cinema sure as hell does. They expertly cover the full palette of tempo and mood, serving up their trademark hooks all along the way. Whereas other band would/could muster one hook per song, Newman and Co. generously pack each song with numerous pop treats. Taking into consideration just how high they set the bar with their last two albums, not to mention how high fan and critic expectations probably are at this point, Twin Cinema is arguably the band's most polished and fully realized work to date. These Canucks have scored a hat trick!
Remastered, repackaged, repriced, relisted! We're happy to announce that Matador has gone and reissued this AQ-fave band's 2000 debut (previously only available as a Canadian import, of which we sold gizillions) domestically. There's no bonus tracks or anything, but it's been remastered (which actually means something -- they tamed the treble and it's indeed an improvement), repackaged (the cd is in a jewel case this time), and now the price is a real deal. So if you haven't already picked this up, now's the time. Here's the review we wrote back when it originally came out:
Amazing pop maestro Carl Newman (Zumpano, Superconductor) heads the star-studded cast of what is, to AQ's collective ears, simply THE BEST POP ALBUM OF THE YEAR 2000. When was the last time the AQ staff and our wildly differing tastes happened to *unanimously* agree on a single album's brilliance? Maybe Neutral Milk's second record? The Soft Bulletin or Conet Project? Suffice to say that this happens very rarely, and that's how good this New Pornographers record is. "Mass Romantic" is absolutely shiningly great power pop, with influences as wide-ranging as Big Star, the Zombies, Eno, the Beach Boys, Cheap Trick, and Built to Spill.
Not since, well, the last Zumpano record (or Silver Sun's debut) has a pop record emerged that's this powerful, kickass, well-crafted and totally complex. Really. Each of the twelve tracks is a fully realised pop creation unto itself. Intelligent, infectious, and uplifting, with truly flawless arrangements (the key to pop greatness).
In a sparkling non-country spin, the wonderful Neko Case lends her vocal gusto to complete the soaring FOUR-PART vocals on such gems as "Letter From An Occupant" not to mention the title track. And the four other members of the New Pornographers are super talents in their own right: Daniel Bejar (the enigmatic figure behind the very Nilsson-influenced combo known as Destroyer), John Collins (bassist/engineer for the Nardwuar the Human Serviette-lead freakos the Evaporators, garage-pop stalwarts Smugglers, and the rock army known as Superconductor), Kurt Dahle (drummer for Canadian college popsters Limblifter), and indie filmmaker Blaine Thurier.
Recommended for everyone -- even if you only buy one pop or rock record this year, this should be it.
Hurrah! Album #5 for longtime aQ darlings The New Pornographers finds them picking right up from where Challengers left off, and tweaking a few things in the best possible ways. Together's dozen pop songs are polished up to an absolute gleam, primed and ready to embrace your ears. The album's tempo is easy-going, and the production is expansive, yet comfily even keeled. Very welcoming and lovely. The powerful and nuanced voices of Neko Case and Kathryn Calder have been brought even more to the fore (such as on the robust "Your Hands (Together)" and the jaunty lilting "Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk"), and serve as a wonderful counterbalance to the yearning yelps of Carl Newman and Dan Bejar, evoking varying depths of wistfulness and melancholy. Never fear, the occasional, fantastical obtusity from Mr. Bejar does inevitably surface (check out "Silver Jenny Dollar"). He wrote a quarter of the album's songs, and headmaster Newman penned the rest. Their contrasting approaches have always been an unusual, but strangely effective pairing. And with each record they've seemed to draw closer and closer in step while not losing their individual quirks. This has only made the band's overall sound stronger and more solidified. Actually that is what makes this album so darn good. The band members have struck a resounding balance and unity. Although the band has long been classified as a supergroup, often to the point of distraction, and despite the fact that the career of one member in particular has skyrocketed in recent times, the band is more... uhh, together than ever before (sorry, how could we resist?!), and each song is a glorious fully realized ensemble piece. While we sure do yearn for the explosive candy-coated romp of their early effervescent tunes, we also find the honed and well composed spot that this mighty Canadian pop troupe have settled into quite easy on our ears too. So, need we say? Heartily recommended! Sure to please their legions of fans and win them legions more!
And fyi, if you're lucky, while supplies last, you get a free limited edition bonus 7" with your purchase of this album, featuring the New Pornos covering 3 songs by Outrageous Cherry! (Note, though, if you're a mailorderer getting Together on the cd format, you should tell us if you want the 7" or not, 'cause it might affect your shipping options...)
This impressive debut album by New Ruins has been in pretty heavy rotation around here lately. The central Illinois band (consisting of two members and a guest cellist) describe their music as "small town mid-western gothic/folksy guitar-mantras tinted with martial snares and cooing organs." Anyone who has lived in a small town long enough has probably felt the inner struggle between the desire to move to an exciting city and the comfort and ease which comes with the affordability of a small town (especially a college town). Couple this struggle with winters that never seem to end and it's no surprise that The Sound They Make's opener "Ships" explodes with anxious guitar riffs and pressing organ lines that crescendo into melancholic vocals recalling roads too often travelled and pitting urgency against somebody's likely kind reminder that "we have the rest of our lives." This apprehensive eagerness paired with two distinctive vocal ranges that could be a perfect octave apart (imagine if Isaac Brock and Doug Marsch formed a dark folk band) make for an impeccable alt-gothic country album that's already garnered comparisons to John Fahey, Iron and Wine, Old 97's, and Grant Lee Buffalo, but still manages to stand alone. The indie kids are always eager for new alt-gothic country heroes. If New Ruins don't fill that void with "The Sound They Make," they'll certainly cause a flutter of anxious fans awaiting their next release (rumored to be in the works) on which their all-star live support--drummer Roy Ewing (Braid; Very Secretary) and bassist Paul Chastain (Velvet Crush; Matthew Sweet)--will contribute.
You know a record is good, when you have no idea what the hell to say about it. Or if "what the fuck" is the first words that come to mind. Such is the case with this tour only cd-r ep from local twisted psych goth weirdos New Thrill Parade. Part of a burgeoning local scene that includes the Ovens (new record on tUMULt soon), Prizehog, Robocop 3 and a bunch of other dubiously named local noisemakers.
But New Thrill Parade definitely stand out, their dizzyingly druggy cabaret workouts, chiming high end guitars, chaotic drumming, long stretches of doomy Nick Cave like crooning, buzzing bass drones and wild operatic freakouts, like a soundtrack to some super fucked up Tim Burton student film. It's impossible to not imagine some strange stone creatures or gross, tentacled beasts singing the deep vocal parts, and some crazed multi headed ring master type balancing on some equally deformed beast belting out the wailing high parts.
Moody and dramatic and cinematic and over the top. Plenty psychedelic and tripped out and druggy, and really fucking catchy, hooks popping up all over the place, while the band unfurls their peculiar brand of funhouse doom and abandoned amusement park goth, horns bleat and moan sparring with the multiple voices, the vibe is definitely eighties, these guys would have KILLED at L.A.'s Scream club, maybe opening for Jane's Addiction or Tex & The Horseheads, but they take that sound and doll it all up with some more modern lo-fi noise rock heaviness, some warped off kilter over the top psych-glam freakouts, and plenty of textures and layers and effects and ambience.
Still need to see these guys live, might be a disappointment since we're envisioning strange beasts and scary monsters, but that's why the cd is perfect, close your eyes, and let these guys drag you screaming into their cracked and crazed world of sound.
TOUR ONLY, LIMITED TO 200 COPIES, we got a dozen or so, might very well be the only copies we get.
Release me now from my mortal flesh, where all my thoughts look towards death. This blackened void in which I gasp for breath, death release me NOW! Oh, what I mean is, this is the newest release from San Francisco's own twisted goth, mindfreakin art damaged, sorrowfully psychedelic Death Rockers, The New Thrill Parade! Whoa. Woe.
We have reviewed all their previous releases up until now, and luckily for us things just keep getting weirder and weirder and more and more demented in the New Thrill Parade commune. The sound is an angular misanthropic romp. Bass and drums churning out urgent, fractured rhythms, while the guitar cuts the throat of any soul with open ears, with piercing, discordant, mind-bending leads. Everything swirling, and seething madly, till the brain leaks out of the ears, and any thoughts you had before, about music, life, social relations, death, sex, are completely mutated and subverted. It's a jubilant sonic experience, but travels dark roads to come to it. This explanation of NTP's sound world is not unlike those of our past reviews (which you should check out), but Slumber In Colorland presents a marked development in both the bands sound and aesthetic. The intensely orchestrated, and inspired song craft fuckery of this latest venture show the band maturing and really finding their own unique mode of operation, giving this album a consistency not yet found in their previous works. It's like gothy deathrock darkness has finally met its blurry-brained, altered state, tripped out, color smeared polar blood brother! The songs range from depressive dark jazz sounding crooners, to completely fucked up rock fury, with mutilated melodies and disjointed noises. Heavily warped shit! Not so much genre defying, as it is genre defining!
Welcome to New Weird Santa Cruz! New Thrill Parade are not your typical bowl-roasting beach bums. They're more likely to smear their faces with cherry red lip stick and hang out under that bridge from the movie Lost Boys, drinking goats blood and cutting themselves. This shit is GOTH. Fuck yeah. The sound of this record is actually a bit of a tough one to describe. The heart of New Thrill Parade's music lies in the pounding, arrhythmic dark dance created by the sexually charged rhythm section, compelling you to move as though you were mounted by some sort of Yoruba diety. Super discordant guitar lines, soaked in reverb and chorus float atop this propulsive thump. The sax squawks, the sounds of a knife being dragged against a piece of sheet metal creeps through the mix at points, and the vocals HOWL! Vocalist Amitai's yelps and croons push the band's already amazing sound WAY over the top...his lyrics are perfectly dramatic and dark, and his sense of delivery conveys the fucked up, twisted world this band seems to exist in. Favorite tracks include the slow building creep fest "Peace Punch", and the twisted fucked up "Body Ship", which sounds like some evil bubble gum music you might hear in a nightmare after watching too much Twin Peaks. But all the tracks are killer!! For fans of The Birthday Party, Christian Death, and the Butthole Surfers...and any other freaky, fucked up insane band that rules. Also, if you get the chance, SEE THEM LIVE! Amazing theater for sure.
This is a mind fuck of a 12"! We just got our hands on this, The New Thrill Parade's first ever document of their brand of head-trippy angular goth madness, and we could not be more pleased. This EP brings the listener to the edge of neurotic insanity, the place in your mind where shameful thoughts and nervous feelings are waging endless war. Dark, creeping discordances pummeling one and other, skull drilling guitar lines, saxophone squawking, and crooning vocals desperately narrating the most tenebrous thought processes of the human psyche. Heavy.
The ep begins with the drunken swagger of "Gift Horse". Starting slow and low, at a sort of swung pace, vocals sighing deeply, specks of reverby guitar and flittering sax punctuating the creeping crawl of the rhythm section. The chorus bursts in suddenly with a jagged romp, piercing guitars and guttural whoops, reminding us of The Birthday Party at their most frenetic. The second track, "Jealous Brothers" is a bit more rocking, the fucked up guitar lines becoming a little more strident and noisy. The bass lines on this one are throbbingly heavy, with the drummer playing a sort methamphetamine cowboy shuffle. Rounding out the a-side is "Spare My Teeth", starting off with a twisted spazzy groove, guitar wailing, drums churning out a clatter of syncopation, before everything pretty much drops off, and the tempo becomes stretched and abstracted, pushing and pulling with howling vocal lines, and then snapping back into the rocking tempo of the beginning. The song slowly dies, twisting and curling like the end of a fragmented dream.
The b-side starts up where the a-side left off, "Moat" is a riff heavy stomper, but maintains the abstract form of "Spare My Teeth". The tempo is stretched to hell, noisy and arrhythmic at times. The closing track is far and away our favorite. "Little Dancer, Age 14" is a creepfest! Dark and heavy as fuck, starting off with just twangy strung out guitar stabs and funerary sounding organ carrying out the progression, the vocals murmuring in deep tones, lamenting some horrific train of thought. The song has an overwhelmingly elegiac feeling, drifting along like a Lynchian dream (nightmare?), fractured and abstracted. The piece ends beautifully, with tremolo picked wailing guitar melodies, outlining a more major sounding chord progression. A stark contrast from the rest of this minor sounding document. Killer!
This band recently moved to San Francisco from the nefarious beaches of Santa Cruz, and we are glad to have them. They are quickly becoming one of the most interesting and confounding local acts. While a little more raw then the debut full-length (reviewed on list #252) the dark intensity has been present from the beginning. This record is a bad trip, but in the best way! Like the type of nightmare you don't want to wake up from. Fractured and fucked up, noisy and scattered, and all together AMAZING! For fans of The Birthday Party, Public Image Ltd., Swans, Butthole Surfers, Scratch Acid, Lydia Lunch, and all jams damaged and demented. Recommended!
Reissue of rare 1968 collectible from this obscure (but of course legendary) psychedelic San Francisco band. A bit dour in a good way, imagine Moby Grape, with unison harmony vocals like a depressed Mamas and Papas. Another reason to get this is the glorious silver hexagonal digipak, a miniature of the original LP sleeve's "cosmic cube" design. It folds out and everything!
SASSY CUTE BAND ALERT!! AQUARIUS SHIT BAND ALERT!!
"I'm really really sexy. I really don't think you know how sexy I really am. Let me unbutton my shirt and massage my thick carpet of chest hair. Yeah. That's sexy. You know what else is sexy? That sax player behind me. You know it, baby. I think I'll sing with a raspy voice. The chicks, they really dig that. I really know what the ladies want. Me. Of course, because I'm so sexy. I'm also in Girls Vs. Boys. That's a really sexy band, too. But you already know that, because I'm so damn sexy. Have you seen my tattoo? It's really sexy."
This band features members of Girls Against Boys (Scott McCloud and Johnny Temple) and it certainly shows. Actually through the first few tracks of this their fourth album, you might even mistake it for a GVSB album especially compared to their most recent material. The main band line-up is rounded out by Charles Bennington (saxophone), Nick Pelleciotto (drums, ex-Edsel) and Geoff Turner (guitar, ex-Grey Matter), but they're also joined on a handful of tracks by Geoff Sanoff (guitar, keyboards, loops, vocoder), Enrico Biondetti (guitar), and Sophie Toulouse. Past NWK recordings have been much more deeply in the NY arty jazz-rock vein. On This Is Glamorous, the herky-jerk horns and rhythmic twists are much less dominant although they do surface prominently on tracks such as "Real World Tonight". And although Scott McCloud once again dons his hoarse sneering Mark E. Smith-esque vocal hat , in fact, the overall tone of this album is much more sleekly groovin' dance pop rock like... dare we say it? Jesus Jones or Pop Will Eat Itself, and with its sax-driven-ness it's also quite a bit like Morphine too.
MPEG Download: "Real World Tonight" [/audio/newwetkojakrealworld.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Real World Tonight" [/audio/newwetkojakrealworld.m3u]
For a band that has supposedly called it quits, Bedhead sure are keeping pretty active. As a matter of fact, the biggest difference between Bedhead and The New Year is the moniker. The Kadane brothers are still the principal songwriters, the artwork is still steeped in Joy Division-esque minimalism and the album was even recorded by Steve Albini, who recorded Bedhead's 1998 swansong. Chris Brokaw of Codeine and Pullman takes over drumming duties, and the result is a little more pep in their step. So if you're in the mood for Bedhead a little earlier in the day, when thing're sunny and bright, give this a shot. Otherwise, just keep listening to your old Bedhead records late at night.
In fact, if you've never heard the chilling ebb and flow of Bedhead, now is the best time as Touch and Go have reissued all of their previous albums, including the wonderful "Beheaded" and the hard-to-find "whatfunlifewas."
The New Year's second album The End Is Near vividly recalls the fond familiar sounds of those slouchy slowcore bands of the '90s. Heck, it's no wonder 'cause members of The New Year were in a couple of those very bands. Yup, brothers Matt and Bubba Kadane were in the mellower than mellow indie rock combo Bedhead, and drummer Chris Brokaw was in the darkly creeping blues rock band Come. Their second full length is laden with ample melancholic comtemplativeness, and yet some of the songs are comparatively livelier than those of their former incarnations -- more like Sebadoh, Pavement and Seam than the hushed Codeine and Low. Andee also thought they sounded like Wilco (mostly the vocals), while Cup likened it to Arab Strap's Malcolm Middleton. Electric guitars swell from warm delicate strums to full-on waves of washy distortion while the strolling basslines and tight drumming provide the solid foundation for the drowsy boyish spoken-sung vocals.
While he certainly sounds a bit more world weary with a warble of uncertainty in his voice in the opening track (and looks a bit more scruffily bearded in the inside photo), have no fear this is the A.C. Newman we all know and love! We have to admit that the new solo album from the New Pornographers' lord of the manor caught us a bit by surprise. We simply didn't expect it just yet! Hmmm, maybe the batteries in our trusty NP radar are on the fritz!
Anyhoo, we welcome Get Guilty gleefully with open arms and ears! As with his previous solo outing 2004's The Slow Wonder, the energy is definitely less exuberant and the mood far mellower than that of his main band, but the pop songs are as stellar as ever. He can at once nail both the heartswellingly grand and the sensitive smart guy introspective with the sweep of his songwriting quill. Not surprisingly after only a couple of listens, many of Newman's crafty pop hooks have embedded themselves solidly in our craniums. The sweet wistful mandolin lace air of "The Heartbreak Rides" is a definite standout, as is "Like A Hit Man, Like A Dancer" which with its similar instrumentation, female backing vocals and peppery tone could easily be seen as an epilogue or afterthought (not an outtake, mind you!) to the NPs' Challengers album... actually many of the other songs can too! Soooo, needless to say, "Very recommended if you like...."? You know it! Really, the only less that splendid thing about this release just might be the cd's art design and digipak packaging which sort made us think "local band demo". 'Tis a minor distraction though. Pssst, his backing band this time features Mates Of State's Kori and Jason which honeys up the musical confection quotient even more!
Now available on vinyl too!
While he certainly sounds a bit more world weary with a warble of uncertainty in his voice in the opening track (and looks a bit more scruffily bearded in the inside photo), have no fear this is the A.C. Newman we all know and love! We have to admit that the new solo album from the New Pornographers' lord of the manor caught us a bit by surprise. We simply didn't expect it just yet! Hmmm, maybe the batteries in our trusty NP radar are on the fritz!
Anyhoo, we welcome Get Guilty gleefully with open arms and ears! As with his previous solo outing 2004's The Slow Wonder, the energy is definitely less exuberant and the mood far mellower than that of his main band, but the pop songs are as stellar as ever. He can at once nail both the heartswellingly grand and the sensitive smart guy introspective with the sweep of his songwriting quill. Not surprisingly after only a couple of listens, many of Newman's crafty pop hooks have embedded themselves solidly in our craniums. The sweet wistful mandolin lace air of "The Heartbreak Rides" is a definite standout, as is "Like A Hit Man, Like A Dancer" which with its similar instrumentation, female backing vocals and peppery tone could easily be seen as an epilogue or afterthought (not an outtake, mind you!) to the NPs' Challengers album... actually many of the other songs can too! Soooo, needless to say, "Very recommended if you like...."? You know it! Really, the only less that splendid thing about this release just might be the cd's art design and digipak packaging which sort made us think "local band demo". 'Tis a minor distraction though. Pssst, his backing band this time features Mates Of State's Kori and Jason which honeys up the musical confection quotient even more!
Not sure why we didn't review this when it came out last year. Obviously everyone here loves the new Pornographers, and most of us love long defunct power poppers Zumpano even more, and the one thing those two bands have in common is Mr. Carl A.C. Newman, who sang in both, and whose solo records are pretty dang great as well. This new one is no different, the sound lush and layered, gorgeously arranged, a bit more laid back, the sound seeming to tend toward classic pop of the past, Van Dyke Parks, Zombies, Kinks, classic rock, singer songwriters, it's all the stuff that defined the sound of Zumpano, and New Pornographers to a lesser degree, but continues to sound so good, but then Newman has one of those voices that could sing the phonebook, and were this a different time, say the late sixties or early seventies, Newman would be one of THOSE singer songwriters, and would most likely be revered like Elton John, or Scott Walker, or Nilssen, his voice so distinctive, and so gorgeous, the songs here subtly catchy, and while we may have burnt out on the New Pornographers, every time we get out hands on a new Carl Newman record, we're reminded just why we like him so much. And as you might imagine, the best ones here remind us of Zumpano, like "Encyclopedia Of Classic Takedowns" and "There's Money In New Wave", but really if you're a fan of classic pop, it's hard to go wrong with Mr. Newman, and Shut Down The Streets is another winner!
New Pornographers (and former Zumpano) bandleader Carl Newman strikes out on his own with a new solo album, though you'd hardly know it wasn't just a new New Pornographers record when you slap it on. And we say this with the utmost esteem -- this man wears some huge songwriting shoes. Probably most distinguishable from the New Pornographers sound is the slower tempo on most of the tracks here, and maybe just a teeny bit less bouncy on the tunes with faster tempos. Like his work with Zumpano, and more recently The New Pornographers, Newman is not only the consummate songwriter, but arranger as well. His penchant for extracting the history of 70's pop and finessing it into his own sound is truly remarkable. Where others may come in with a cleaver and coarsely chop away with musical references and irony filled homages, Newman subtly infuses his work such that you find yourself constantly asking "what band is this reminding me of?" (almost the same effect that Bjorn Olsson's instrumental nuggets seem to have on us). Though if there's one group that we can definitely point to and say confidently that Mr. Newman has been listening to a great deal it's ELO -- throughout, Newman uses the trademark high choruses (we were even convinced that Ms. Neko Case had snuck into a recording session or two). So in lieu of the next New Pornographers (or that fabled lost third Zumpano record), we can highly recommend this tight, fat free collection of clean, wholesome, kick-ass rock n' roll to be your summer soundtrack.
Joanna Newsom's follow-up to last year's acclaimed musical epic Ys gives us a lighter glimpse into how she has transcribed Van Dyke Park's heady-yet-playful orchestrations into use for her current touring band (the jokingly-monikered "YS Street Band").
The three songs here �one new, and two reworked from past releases, all beginning with the letter C, for some reason, � are accompanied by banjo, accordion, guitar, drums and a musical saw. The new song, "Colleen", is "Katie Cruel" by way of "Riverdance", a Celtic-tinged jig about a woman who has seemed to have forgotten her mysterious past. It's the kind of song-story that would have easily fit on Ys, if she didn't already have "Monkey and Bear". Revisiting "Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie" from The Milk-eyed Mender for a third time (counting the version on her first self-released demo, Walnut Whales), Newsom thankfully doesn't add too much dressing to its spare arrangement except for the inclusion of well-placed vocal accompaniments. But the price of admission is all about her reworking of Cosmia , the final (and shortest) track from Ys. On that album the song with its heavy orchestrations served as the soaring climax. Here she nearly doubles its length and by substituting the string section for banjo and musical saw makes it airier and more expansive, allowing the band to break free for a bit and kick it up some without losing any of the song's emotional weight. Nice!
It's impossible to listen Joanna Newsom casually, and you can never rely on first impressions with her music. In fact as much as some of us here deeply love her albums, there is always a resigned feeling of an endurance test at first, that slowly lets up through repeated listens, until it wears in on you quite nicely. Once comfortable in its structure, its labyrinthian nuances set up like traps of discovery and the overall effect is like a garden just coming to bloom. Divers sits somewhere between her last two records, a couple of long jewel-laden epics, but mostly shorter and more digestible songs. Not as rife with emotion and symbolic as Ys, but more complexly intricate than the '70s California song cycle of Have One On Me.
The hooting sound of an owl opens and closes the album suggesting an Autumnal shift in mood. Indeed Divers reads like an album to be played over a long night, from dusk to dawn. For starters, the piano (as well as Fender Rhodes and harpsichord) dominate. Her signature harp doesn't appear until the third song and though it has a strong presence on Divers as a whole, Newsom seems to want to appear less attached to it, or showcase other talents instead, in which there are plenty here. The orchestrations are incredibly arranged without overwhelming the songs, and her voice and song structures are definitely moving more into Kate Bush territory. It may also be the first time she has tackled a cover, the traditional folk song, "Same Old Man" sung most famously before by Karen Dalton on her second album, and she delivers it beautifully.
Divers won't change the minds of folks who have never got into Newsom before, but longtime fans of her previous work will find more to love. Though we secretly hope her next record will be more of an immediate and less precious affair, like her first album was.
Less immediate than her striking debut Milk Eyed Mender and not as epic sounding as her last album Ys, the new triple album from Joanna Newsom finds her as visionary, intimate and extraordinary as ever! She has earned and deserved the right to require her listeners to luxuriate in her sounds, to have the patience and to focus their full attention on her record while listening. This isn't the sort of record you just casually throw on in a room full of people and quickly make a judgment about, it's a nuanced, dense and meticulously crafted sprawling work that requires a little dedication. It's the kind of record that when played in the store, its hard to focus on and really become immersed in, but once we brought it home with us and listened in the solitude of our bedrooms and in our wanderings through the city, especially on headphones, the songs began to blossom and expand and move us in such thrilling ways.
While she will always be known for her extraordinary harp playing, Have One On Me shows her integrating the harp more seamlessly with other instrumentation. There's plenty of piano and moments of sweeping soundscapery and commanding drums, but not to fear, the majestic harp still shines through. While initial reviews we've read of the record keep throwing around Joni Mitchell comparisons, we don't feel that at all; instead we do feel a HUGE Kate Bush influence at work, much, much more so than any of her previous releases. The way in which the songs are crafted in such an intimate manner, and the surprise moments of a song when an eruption of sound comes when least expected. Being that many of us here at AQ are huge Kate Bush admirers we love seeing someone follow in her footsteps with equal intelligence, sophisticated word play and deep running emotion.
In a day and age when our culture is more ADD than ever and we are constantly scrambling for instant gratification, it's so refreshing and rewarding to encounter a collection of songs that requires patience, and one's full attention, that fulfills and enriches and offers so much, with more secrets and musical nuances revealed with every spin, a glorious reward in sound, given to only those pure of heart and open of ear. Another striking achievement from one of the most talented songwriters of our generation!
Well, ok, we should mention that there's a few grumpy nay-sayers here at AQ, who think maybe it's just a bit TOO much Kate Bush, lacking some originality there, but then again, some of those folks were never that into Newsom in the first place, but do in fact like Kate Bush, so they ought to count their blessings 'cause they're gonna be hearing this playing in the store A LOT.
Everybody who loves San Francisco fairytale folk singer/harpist Joanna Newsom raise your hands -- we know there's a lot of you out there! We want your attention 'cause this lil' cd is a special treat for fans. It's got one previously unreleased Newsom track "What We Have Known", plus "Sprout And The Bean" taken from her smash hit (well, 'round these parts it seems anyway) album The Milk-Eyed Mender! And, better yet even, this also includes a video for said track! Obviously, it's single for fans only, but we imagine quite a few you won't be able to resist...
Imagine this scene... as the lights dim a lone figure creeps into the spotlight, it's Bjork! and she's singing the song "It's A Hard Knock Life" from the Broadway musical Annie. Not such a farfetched thought when you think of how much Bjork seems to love Broadway productions, but on The Milk-Eyed Mender it isn't Bjork in the spotlight, it's SF sweetheart Joanna Newsom. Indeed, her voice bears much more than a passing resemblance to that of the Icelandic deity. Its childlike qualities are matched by some equally childlike wonky keyboards in one track, and the general twee simplicity of her music overall. One customer of ours offered the following description of Newsom: "the lovechild of Bjork and the Incredible String Band's Robin Williamson, born in Moominland."
This is the big-time Drag City debut for Ms. Newsom, who's homemade cd-rs we've carried in the past (from which some of this material is drawn, re-recorded). We'll freely admit that her rather cutesy, affected sub-Bjork-ish vocal style may be an acquired taste; it seems that seeing her perform in person makes a big difference, as everyone we know who has attended one of Joanna's solo shows has been entranced and enthused. Heck I think some of 'em fell in love. And love it or hate it, this album really IS all about her singing -- her voice and lyrics -- backed pretty much only by the angelic pluck/strum of her harp. Harp? That's right, Newsom is a classical harpist, whom you may already have heard on the Nervous Cop disc with the drummers from Deerhoof and Hella. This is much different than that, of course. It's Newsom's own thing...simple, folky music, her little-girl vocal stylings, and otherworldly, fairytale persona... something we suspect a lot of people will end up liking, once (if?) attuned to it. After all, "true beauty is difficult but rewarding" says the same customer quoted above.
Imagine this scene... as the lights dim a lone figure creeps into the spotlight, it's Bjork! and she's singing the song "It's A Hard Knock Life" from the Broadway musical Annie. Not such a farfetched thought when you think of how much Bjork seems to love Broadway productions, but on The Milk-Eyed Mender it isn't Bjork in the spotlight, it's SF sweetheart Joanna Newsom. Indeed, her voice bears much more than a passing resemblance to that of the Icelandic deity. Its childlike qualities are matched by some equally childlike wonky keyboards in one track, and the general twee simplicity of her music overall. One customer of ours offered the following description of Newsom: "the lovechild of Bjork and the Incredible String Band's Robin Williamson, born in Moominland."
This is the big-time Drag City debut for Ms. Newsom, who's homemade cd-rs we've carried in the past (from which some of this material is drawn, re-recorded). We'll freely admit that her rather cutesy, affected sub-Bjork-ish vocal style may be an acquired taste; it seems that seeing her perform in person makes a big difference, as everyone we know who has attended one of Joanna's solo shows has been entranced and enthused. Heck I think some of 'em fell in love. And love it or hate it, this album really IS all about her singing -- her voice and lyrics -- backed pretty much only by the angelic pluck/strum of her harp. Harp? That's right, Newsom is a classical harpist, whom you may already have heard on the Nervous Cop disc with the drummers from Deerhoof and Hella. This is much different than that, of course. It's Newsom's own thing...simple, folky music, her little-girl vocal stylings, and otherworldly, fairytale persona... something we suspect a lot of people will end up liking, once (if?) attuned to it. After all, "true beauty is difficult but rewarding" says the same customer quoted above.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
One of the most anticipated releases this year, Joanna Newsom's second full length Ys (fyi: apparently pronounced 'ease', not 'wise') probably needs no introduction. Before we all drown in the river of salivation, perhaps we should just ring the supper bell and holler, "Come 'n' get it!"
Have you been hearing the rather loud murmurs about how Joanna Newsom is telling all that -- contrary to all of the press portraits of her resembling an Appalachian woodland waif -- she is not simply a folk songstress? Us too, and well, on an initial couple of listens to Ys, it does seem to be true. Yes, she has reinvented herself, somewhat aggressively distancing herself from the young indie folk scene that she helped spawn. It appears all that lingers from The Milk-Eyed Mender is her trusty harp, though even it claims less of the spotlight. Ys most definitely shows much artistic growth and aspiration with a far broader creative scope and production sense. Really, if there's any question that Newsom (and her label Drag City) are goin' for the serious artiste cred, you need look no further than the big gun support and chaperoning courtesy of top shelf luminaries Van Dyke Parks, Steve Albini and Jim O'Rourke. Not unexpectedly, THEY do amazing work on this album. It's stunningly beautiful. With a supporting cast like that, Newsom was clearly afforded full freedom to focus on realizing her vision. But what is that vision? We're not being completely facetious when we suggest two words -- Kate Bush. Heck, she's certainly already captivated the imagination of a similarly obsessive adoring fanbase as Ms Bush's, and maybe just as many naysayers. The mere mention of either artist's name triggers immediate passionate love/hate reactions. Her overall presentation seems so directly inspired by the venerable artist's own eccentric dramatics that you'd almost expect her to break out into "Babooshka" at any moment! Speaking of which with regards to the vocal department, the Kate and Joanna fans around here have likened her pixie-esque singing on this album to Kate Bush as a child minstrel (mind you, the non-Kate and Joanna fans might rephrase that less kindly as Kate Bush as a squeeze toy). Regardless, this is quite the ambitious work. In each of the five lengthy tracks (the longest is 16 minutes!), she unveils her lyrics in theatrical, highly literary fashion. It's still the storybook stuff of romantic fairy tales and whimsical fables, but it's set far less in nature than the rural hued Milk Eyed Mender. It evokes fantastic jewel-toned interiors, stages, salons, tea rooms. At once, dainty and sumptuous. The album defies expectations in wonderful, enchanting ways.
Man, have we been waiting for this! Why? Well, does Chrissy Zebby Tembo mean anything to you? The group that backed him up on his wonderful My Ancestors album from 1974 have a rare record of their own that's just been reissued, the electrifying indeed 45,000 Volts, and it's another killer document of Zambian heavy fuzz rock ("Zamrock"!) from the '70s! Founded by Paul Dobson Nyirongo, otherwise known as Paul Ngozi, a Hendrix-styled guitarist (he even did the trick of playing with his teeth), the Ngozi Family band released this winning album in 1977, and now that we've heard it, it goes right to the top of the selection of awesome garage fuzz rock from Africa in our collections, a small but ever growing category thanks to ruling reissues like this (we're also looking forward to Shadoks' impending cd edition of The Witch album, also from Zambia, next month, you should be too). And it's not so lo-fi as that Tembo disc, much better sound, though the production still sounds very "live", we think it's perfect, capturing both the thud and grace of the Ngozi Family's music.
There's ten tracks (including one bonus from a 7"), containing so much raw FUZZ! Burbling, sizzling, wah wah action. Along with wicked beats, soulful sincere vocals (some songs in English, others in a Zambian language, Nyanja perhaps), and groove that just won't quit. Most of the tracks are in a Western psych-rock style with distinct African influences, though a couple tracks near the end of the disc are much more like traditional Afrobeat, with hand percussion and mass chanting vocals. As far as the rock stuff goes, even when they kick back on the mellower, more sunshiney numbers there's still lotsa fuzz and snappy beats. And Ngozi actually translates to Danger in English, so you know that they don't neglect the harder and heavier fare on this album. Particularly proto-metal-ish is "Night Of Fear", with immensely fat riffing and echoed lyrics about graveyards and nightmares! Here and elsewhere we're reminded of Los Dug Dugs. Heck even a little Blue Cheer. And of course Ofege and Chrissy Zebby Tembo and others from Africa.
Timeless stuff, highly recommended. Tembo's My Ancestors, reissued on the same label, is already out of print on cd, and this reish is equally limited too, 500 copies only, so get it while you can. FYI there's also a vinyl version but our supplier is already out of those, at the moment anyway, if we're able to get more we'll list it then.
African garage fuzz fans listen up, we've got another nice "Zam-Rock" reissue here! Guitarist/vocalist Paul Ngozi (1949-1989), according to the adulatory liner notes in the cd booklet, was one of the Zambian music industry's biggest stars, at the forefront of the "Zam-Rock" phenomenon in the '70s. Those same notes explain he took the name 'Ngozi', which means danger, "because each time he took to the stage, people went crazy and it was all disaster"! Apparently he did the whole Hendrix routine of playing the guitar with his teeth, etc. We had heard of Ngozi before 'cause of previous reissues of his band the Ngozi Family's albums 45,000 Volts (1977) and My Ancestors (1974, with Chrissy Zebby Tembo). Both were KILLER, and so is this, a record originally released by a Kenyan label in 1976.
The Ghetto's nine tracks feature both hard-hitting riff rockers and more gently loping, lazy grooves. The singing is lovely & lilting some of the time, urgent & impassioned at others. The relatively lo-fi recording renders Ngozi's amped-up guitar fuzz kind of pleasantly 'soft' but still hella distorted. Lyrically, he tackles some heavy subjects here, like "Suicide", and starving children "In The Ghetto". It's spiritual too, with the song "Jesus Christ" being a most fuzzed out headbanger about Our Savior. Most of the songs are in English, but a few are in Ngozi's native tongue. If you've heard 45,000 Volts, or other Zam-Rock like The Witch and Rikki Ililonga, you pretty much know how rad this is already; it's got the fuzz, the funk, the African vibe� great stuff! Those liner notes also mention the titles of several other albums that Ngozi recorded, among them one called Heavy Metal (!) that we really hope gets reissued sometime too!
When is a drum circle way more than just a drum circle? When it's a KRAUTROCK drum circle, complete with electronic FX. Here we have all three albums from this all-or-mostly percussion oriented, instrumental krautrock ensemble, spread across two compact discs - you get Niagara's self-titled, entirely drum-driven debut from 1970, plus 1972's S.U.B. and 1973's Afire, the latter two of which added other instrumentation, like electric bass, guitar, piano, horns and flute (nothin' wrong with some flute!) to the drums, congas, timbales, cowbell, maracas, etc. But still, even with the expanded lineup, rhythm & percussion remains the main emphasis across all these Niagara platters. With Latin and African influences, the two sidelong tracks on the debut are simply killer funky jams, while the other records can get more jazzy and fusion-y, while still bringing the funk, in ways that fans of electric Miles and early Funkadelic and the swingingest "library music" will heartily approve. It's not a surprise that Niagara's debut, especially, is sought after by crate digging DJ's in the know, total breakbeat nirvana there. Krautrock at its grooviest!
You've probably never heard of Nibiru (this Nibiru anyway, though maybe you're deep into Sumerian mythology and/or Babylonian astronomy and are familiar with the term in other contexts!), but if you're at all a fan of throbbing, spaced-out sludge psych then please pay attention. Before writing this review, we put a tag on this in the store that just said "Ritualistic Occult Italian Doom" and that managed to sell a copy or two already, but more can be said about it. To elaborate, this is the debut full-length from an esoteric Italian trio who play totally-trance inducing, heavy rhythmic ritualistic stoner sludge. UFOmammut is an obvious reference point, Nibiru are equally fuzzed-out and head-nodding, but have some characteristics unique to themselves, notably their vocal stylings, which bring in an undercurrent of 'world music', the heavily effected vocals sounding like distorted muezzin wails, or even digitized Tuvan throat singing. The electronic treatment of the vocals kind of reminds us of the nefarious Auto-Tune, but instead of making 'em sound like Cher or Britney Spears, Nibiru's hypothetical version of Auto-Tune is set on 'guttural alien shaman' or something like that! The singing is thus oddly melodic, but also otherworldly. It's definitely distinctive and effective in creating their primal, droned-out, mesmeric, magickal mood. Helping with that too, are all the thick effects-laden guitar/synth/organ textures and lumbering, staggering layers of rhythmic pound. Right from the smoothed out grind of epic 18 minute opener "Invokation I: The Acid Skull", Nibiru never really let up, the listener transported into their mystic realm of dreamtime, doomic dervish sounds for the duration. Fans of such heaviness as Gnod, Bong, OM, Zoroaster, UFOmammut, Los Natas/Ararat, and Lord Of Doubts' Eastern/Buddhist ceremonial sprawl, would do well to investigate forthwith.
Compact disc limited to 300 copies.
These occult Italian sonic shamans have returned from another extensive druggy doomy dreamtime journey into the realms of heaviness/trippiness unknown to most modern mortals, who aren't 'experienced' like these guys, and here's the recorded result to edify us all. Their 2013 debut Caosgon first turned us on to their strange ceremonial sound, improvised esoteric stoner sludge for fans of UFOmammut, OM, Orthodox, Gnod, Bong, Acid Mothers Temple, etc. Now a year or so later they're back with even longer hair, longer beards, longer songs... probably, at any rate it's a longer album, two whole sprawling discs this time, filled to the brim with freeform Moog mantras, lumbering heavy riffs, hypnotic slomo rhythms, freaky FX, and drug gobbling/gargling vocal invocations. It's a Paul Chain getting high in Nepal thing you wouldn't understand.
The music of these Mogadon monks often takes the form of buzzing droning distortion, waves of it, interwoven with weird samples and those howling electronically treated vocals - moans akin to drones themselves - with the guitars chugging away behind the synths, intensive drums and percussion too, plodding and pounding, all part of Nibiru's truly otherworldly, seemingly never-ending throb. These tracks are tumbling, pulsating things that twist and turn in slow spirals, mutating more than anything else, as new components unexpectedly appear in the sound field: some Barn Owlish twang here, some primal vocal outbursts there; squiggling shortwave electronics, wavering guitar lines, 'liturgical organ', 'mini-digeridoo', feedback tangles, and occasional oddly relaxing melodies meandering about amidst the thicker sonic sludge.
We can't always guarantee these results - but under certain circumstances, at the right volume, if you play this at home, your rooms will fill with aromatic smoke, your walls will grow ropy green vines, and the sky outside will darken, swirling with alien colors, revealing hitherto unseen and confusingly arranged constellations of stars, dimly glowing through the mists... in your imagination at least, if not in reality... but what is reality? By the time you're onto the 2nd disc here you might not be sure...
So... Paging Julian Cope, we've got your new favorite album right here! Heck, the druid-dude probably know about this already, if he knows ANYTHING about psychonautic fantasias. However, we haven't read or heard much at all about this band anywhere, really, but if they keep it up we predict they'll develop quite a cult following for themselves, this is the sort of spaced out, improv-damaged, heavier-than-thou ritual we know you all love, we do!!
Limited to 300 copies only.
Record number two from these creepy synthpop postpunks, and as much as we dug their last one, Immer Etwas, this one is giving their debut a run for its money. From the super haunted house-y psychedelic synth intro, all monklike chants and squiggly melodies over minor key synth pulsations, the sort of thing that could have been stretched out for another 3 or 4 minutes (heck 15 or 20!), but before you know it, the song proper kicks in, murky basement beats, crunchy guitars, angular melodies, yelped reverbed vox, all wreathed in plenty of synth buzz and echo drenched effects. Weirdly enough, the first thing we thought was that it sort of sounded like a way more lo-fi punk version of eighties big haired electroglam weirdos Sigue Sigue Sputnik, which is not a bad thing at all. The second track though changes gears dramatically, unfurling a sort of reverby drum machine driven psych-blooz dirge, all sinister swagger and twisted dark creep, sounding like some lost jam from some obscure eighties Aussie outfit. The rest of the record continues on in an appropriately unpredictable manner, flitting from garagey fuzz-rock pound, to gothy electro-punk weirdness, and from woozy psychedelic synth heavy gloom pop, to ultra lo-fi bedroom brewed almost glam sounding punk pop crunch. There's also shades of eighties new wave, stoner rock grooves, outsider industrial pound, and shuffling fifties style pop songsmithery, somehow all tangled up in NF's already tangled and twisted soundworld.
Seems like Sacred Bones can do no wrong. The last year they've given us records from Gary War, Blank Dogs, Zola Jesus, Cultural Decay, 13th Chime, Moon Duo, Carl Simmons, and Vermillion Sands, and now Nice Face, aka Ian Magee, who definitely fits right in with the current movement of lo-fi garage pop weirdness, a la Thee Oh Sees, Ty Segall, Blank Dogs, etc, but Nice Face is a much more twisted affair. Not sure how we missed out on this guy until now, this is in fact a collection of previously released jams, originally released on three different labels, including two on Sacred Bones, hardly matters, what matters is we have em now, and they have been totally kicking our asses.
Falling somewhere between former aQ Record Of The Weekers Night Control AND former aQ Record Of The Weekers Blank Dogs, it seemed sort of inevitable that we would fall in love with Nice Face as well, short sharp blasts of crunchy, synth laced, home brewed, cold wave flecked garage pop, super catchy, but plenty twisted, and beyond the more contemporary influences, we hear plenty of classic power pop, old new wave, old school punk rock, all tweaked and twisted into this right here. We could go song by song and describe every one, they all rule, but we'll just pick out a few of our favorites which should definitely give you a feel for the weirdo damaged pop world of Nice Face.
"Decipher" is a haunting synth heavy instrumental, with a KILLER hook, the whole track swirly and subtly warped, that sounds like one of the best songs Blank Dogs never released. "I Want Your Damage" is a spacey pop gem, with super delayed vocals, and a Tesltars main melody, lots of effects, weird synth melodies, imagine if Joe Meek were alive today, this is the sort of thing he'd be whipping up in his apartment home studio. "A Minor Altercation" is classic eighties power pop and sounds like it was yanked right off one of those Yellow Pills comps, "A Gaping Gash" is like a lo-fi reimagining of that Depeche Mode / Gary Numan collaboration that never really happened. "Beater" is a blasting garage rock blow out, that does Thee Oh Sees and Ty Segall one better, with fuzzy synths, another killer hook, gothy and new wave-y, not to mention the retarded, freaked out synth solo WAY up in the mix. "Had To Let You Know" is another total eighties new wave jam, minor key and mysterious, super reverbed and groovy, sounds almost like the Stooges filtered through Joy Division and Gary Numan. And on and on it goes. How does this guy do it. Every song is insanely catchy, but totally different than the one that came before it, and even though the songs are all over the map, and this is a collection of tracks from different releases, it totally flows, and plays perfectly, like somehow, it was meant to be what it is, a single perfect fucked up outsider pop record. So rad.
