Alright! A new cd single by Out Hud. This features "OLTL: A Requiem", "OLTL: A Requiem For A Requiem" and "Put It Away, Put It Away, Put It Away, Dad". All three are way more house-dancey than previous releases, way less all out disco-dub. These songs bring the New York style party zone big time. Cool dubbed-out-n-delayed beats. Delicate layers of filtered computer noise over some rockin guitar melodies. WARNING: this cd single will make you wanna stay in the "zone" with Out Hud for a long while... Good thing they have a full length comin' out soon!
Impressive full length debut from ex-Californian, now Brooklynite band Out Hud. This group plays the instrumental, angular dance music that the indie rockers currently adore. You know the type -- think ESG, Liquid Liquid, Cabaret Voltaire, the Disco Not Disco comps, etc. And of the many bands that now sport this sound, I think Out Hud do it best. Icily precise guitar gets the echo dub treatment and is used sparingly. Metronomic drumming. Spacy stereo separation tricks. Warm, not melodramatic, cello. Strange metallic crashes. Doesn't annoy or call too much attention to itself, and pleasantly low key and slow to mid tempo. Really restrained in a good way. All of that, plus actual melodies that show off the group's rock roots. Highly recommended!
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Two tracks from the instrumental angular dance/punk/funk outfit known as Outhud. Like their split 12" with !!!, this is very smart, low-key stuff for fans of 99 Records (Liquid Liquid, ESG). Recommended.
Very, very good instrumental 12" from two Sacramento bands (the latter is pronounced 'chikchikchik'), both of whom draw heavily from the chugga chugga guitars of Wire and the art/punk/funk of Liquid Liquid. Highly recommended! Windy cannot stop playing this in the store.
Not to be confused with Focus, of "Hocus Pocus" fame! This sprawling krautrock classic was actually reissued on cd some time ago, but we only have been able to get 'em in stock recently, and thought we should list it since it's so darn good. Out Of Focus were a German rock/psych/jazz/fusion outfit that made three albums (four counting a posthumous release) back in the early '70s. A band
On this, their third album (1972), the band expanded to include a large brass section (saxes, trumpet). Appropriately, disc one starts off dramatically with a massive, bombastic horn-riff onslaught that stretches into a hypnotic seventeen minute jam (titled "L.S.B.") that sounds something like an imaginary Terry Riley take on the music from Hawaii 5-0. Indeed, much of this album has a "late-night TV band on drugs playing repetitive minimalism" vibe, if you can imagine that. There's definitely a nod to prime Soft Machine in Out of Focus' rock/jazz fusion as well. But, there's more: calmer, creepier ballads, searing psychedelic guitar attacks, baroque flute noodling... only in the '70s I guess!
The vocals, when present, range from eastern-influenced meditative chants to wild nonsensical scatting to (when there's actual words) crazy drug-damaged lyrics like "...sometimes when you're playing flute/and the tones are surrounding you/and the pale face underneath your boots/is tumbling through your rooms" (I *think* that's what he's singing) delivered in a melancholy croon, or (later in the same song) the menacing refrain of "...three years of your life, or seven fingers". It's almost as weird as fellow krautrockers Paternoster (look for that recent review from list #111 elsewhere on our website).
Disc two indulges even further in psychedelic jazz jam excess, being a spacy 48-minute, three-part composition/improvisation called "Huchen 55" that originally spanned two whole album sides. Again, flutes to the fore! We've been fans of Out of Focus' other two albums ("s/t" and "Wake Up", also usually in stock, $16.98 each) for a while, but were especially stoked to finally acquire this set -- it lived up to all our hopes for it and then some.
Awesome live album from this krautrock band that should be much, much better known.
Heavy progressive krautrock from the very early seventies, lots of organ/guitar/flute riffing on these. Good stuff. This is their first, from 1970, and features "See How A White Negro Flies" among other titles.
Heavy progressive krautrock from the very early seventies, lots of organ/guitar/flute riffing on these. Good stuff. This is their jazzier second album, from 1971, and our favorite song title on here belongs to the seventeen-minute long "Fly Bird Fly Television Program".
We had never heard of Outer Limits Recordings until we reviewed that LA Vampires record, which featured someone called Matrix Metal, apparently a member of OLR, or maybe he IS Outer Limits Recordings, but we liked that collaboration enough to be curious so we were psyched to check out these two new singles, which actually ended up sounding a lot different than we expected. The sounds on that collab were all electronic and future funky and twisted lo-fi beatsmithery, so that's sort of what we were imagining, but instead, OLR traffic in low fidelity outsider psychedelic lysergic garage pop, fitting comfortably alongside Ariel Pink, Gary War, Blank Dogs and the like.
I Need My TV features two tracks that sound like they could have come straight from the eighties, the first, the title track, is all electronic drums, super processed electric guitars, crooning multitracked vocals, super sugary power pop hooks, all wrapped into a song that either sounds genuinely vintage, or like some Ween style perfect pastiche, a little bit cheesy, but super super catchy. The flipside features a cover of some band we've never heard of (if it's really a cover at all), and is another blast of electronic pop that sounds like it could have been plucked right off the radio circa 1983, a little soulful, a little funky, a little electro, cheesy eighties pop, that manages to be crazy catchy, and still sound like the current strain of retro lo-fi garage pop. There's even a whistling solo!
Julie offers up another couple eighties style electro pop gems, the title track, if it weren't so lo-fi, sounds like it could be M83, all after school, Breakfast Club style epic, and actually the more we listen to it, it sort of sounds like unsung UK power poppers Silver Sun, albeit slowed down and a bit warped.
The B side again revisits the same sound, bouncy new wavey pop, with jangly guitars, soaring vocals, sounding like whoever Outer Limits Recordings is or are, they must do nothing but watch old VHS tapes of eighties MTV, which they then translate into their own music, incorporating all the glitches and strange audio drop outs that come with that outdated technology. We're not complaining, AT ALL. We love this stuff, and these two singles have been on heavy rotation. Now we need to get our hands on an OLR full length...
We had never heard of Outer Limits Recordings until we reviewed that LA Vampires record, which featured someone called Matrix Metal, apparently a member of OLR, or maybe he IS Outer Limits Recordings, but we liked that collaboration enough to be curious so we were psyched to check out these two new singles, which actually ended up sounding a lot different than we expected. The sounds on that collab were all electronic and future funky and twisted lo-fi beatsmithery, so that's sort of what we were imagining, but instead, OLR traffic in low fidelity outsider psychedelic lysergic garage pop, fitting comfortably alongside Ariel Pink, Gary War, Blank Dogs and the like.
I Need My TV features two tracks that sound like they could have come straight from the eighties, the first, the title track, is all electronic drums, super processed electric guitars, crooning multitracked vocals, super sugary power pop hooks, all wrapped into a song that either sounds genuinely vintage, or like some Ween style perfect pastiche, a little bit cheesy, but super super catchy. The flipside features a cover of some band we've never heard of (if it's really a cover at all), and is another blast of electronic pop that sounds like it could have been plucked right off the radio circa 1983, a little soulful, a little funky, a little electro, cheesy eighties pop, that manages to be crazy catchy, and still sound like the current strain of retro lo-fi garage pop. There's even a whistling solo!
Julie offers up another couple eighties style electro pop gems, the title track, if it weren't so lo-fi, sounds like it could be M83, all after school, Breakfast Club style epic, and actually the more we listen to it, it sort of sounds like unsung UK power poppers Silver Sun, albeit slowed down and a bit warped.
The B side again revisits the same sound, bouncy new wavey pop, with jangly guitars, soaring vocals, sounding like whoever Outer Limits Recordings is or are, they must do nothing but watch old VHS tapes of eighties MTV, which they then translate into their own music, incorporating all the glitches and strange audio drop outs that come with that outdated technology. We're not complaining, AT ALL. We love this stuff, and these two singles have been on heavy rotation. Now we need to get our hands on an OLR full length...
The impressive Spectrum Spools imprint has been churning out a fantastic array of progressive electronics both modern and vintage, tracing a similar aesthetic thread regardless of time-period. We have John Elliott to thank for all of this expert sound selection. In years past, he might have been best known for his membership in the brilliant kosmische trio Emeralds, but that project has inexplicably been dormant since their 2010 masterpiece Does It Look Like I'm Here. For the previous 18 releases on Spectrum Spools, Elliott himself has been conspicuously absent from his own curatorial vision for the label. That is, until now. Outer Space was once a solo moniker for Elliott to work out various synthmusik permutations that might have detoured from the Emeralds general vibe. Sometimes that detour has been pretty radical (the glorping velocity of an eponymous album on Arbor), others less so (the sprawling zoner trax of Lightyear Demonstrations); and here, Elliott is proudly bellowing "EMERALDS!" in the synth arpeggiation and nebula extrapolation of Akashic Record. Elliott has also roped in a few like-minded types under the Outer Space banner, including Drew McDowell (a former satellite member of Coil!), Philip Whiteside, and Jeff Hatfield. While much of the album tends towards the kirlian glow of the Schulze / Schnitzler axis, the dark-minded chords and arpeggiations found on "October 27, 1989: Bay Village, Ohio" is much more indebted to the Carpenter / Goblin models of '80s horror soundtrack design. This date and place refers to the kidnapping and subsequent murder of a 10-year old girl in Elliott's hometown, warranting the much more bleak vibe of the Outer Space sound. The album's finale "February 8th, 1990: Ashland, Ohio" refers to the time and place that girl's body was later found. Throughout the album, Elliott and crew are in fine form, making this pretty much required listening, especially for those of you who who were smitten by that aforementioned Emeralds record Does It Look Like I'm Here.
If you didn't know already, Emeralds synth-advocate John Elliott is one hell of a busy man. Yeah, there's a ton of Emeralds cd-r's and tapes that disappear before we even know about them, and the same goes for a bunch of Elliott's side projects. Outer Space is one of those projects, which has been hailed at times as a solo venture of Elliott's, but sometimes he's wrangling fellow Cleveland jammers to zone out on the electronics with him. Needless to say, this double cassette from Deception Island is the first time we've heard the sounds of Elliott's Outer Space, but it's certainly a very different animal from his Mist project, whose eponymous LP we've managed to stock from time to time. Where the Mist recordings tend toward the airy, effervescent, brighter end of the kosmische electronic spectrum, Outer Space swings toward the darker, grey smears of industrial din through electronic means. Long filter sweeps push the spectral tones and static laced synthesis towards a leaden oblivion via a turgid application of twin Moogs (with Elliott being joined by Jeff Hatfield).
Smartly packaged in a jumbo double cassette case... but be careful with it, we have no idea where you'd be able to find another, if it were to slip out of your hand and smash upon the floor. Super limited to 200 copies, and destined to be out of print shortly after we type these words.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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'60s Dutch rockers The Outsiders (not the reportedly inferior American band of the same name) produced an album -- "CQ" -- that's beloved by collectors and critics, but never really got the recognition that it deserved outside of that very narrow market.
Cool, our friends at Jackpot made a good choice here to do a vinyl reissue of this 1968 gem by sixties Dutch rockers The Outsiders, an album beloved by many collectors, critics, and us...
It's kind of a concept album describing multiple perspectives of an unrequited romance, with the father of the girl disapproving of the boy in the scenario. However, The Outsiders, being boys themselves, show considerable favor to the plight of the jilted boy in the story, which ends with that protagonist snapping in psychotic violence. Fortunately, The Outsiders spent just as much time composing an economical psych / garage / beat-punk score as they did on the story itself; thus, each track is a solid pop entry of jangly melodies and punchy basslines, occasionally repeating leitmotifs somewhat like the Leaves / Standells version of "Hey Joe" or Syd Barrett era Pink Floyd. The concept album element also puts us in mind of SF Sorrow by the Pretty Things. And anyone into other Nederbeat bands like Q65 and The Motions ought to like this too. Certainly worth checking out!
Limited edition, deluxe gatefold vinyl-only reissue, with silver foil cover artwork as per the original, and liner notes from Mike Stax of Ugly Things, including a recent interview with The Outsiders' lead guitarist Ronnie Splinter.
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Three former members of Circle got back together to explore dark industrial grooves that clearly refer to their work with the earlier incarnation of Circle with expressive jazz flares throughout the screeching breaks and throbbing guitars.
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These ex-members of Finnish AQ-faves Circle (and one of the guys from Tiermes) present their first full-length recording on the always weird and wonderful Bad Vugum label. This is (mostly) instrumental jazzy-rock hypnosis; repetitive, groovy, sparse. For the most part, rather downtempo, but with the occasional energetic saxophone-inspired outburst. Ovalki conjure up a somewhat noirish, psychedelic mood. Allan is especially addicted to track five, the dubby eight-minute "Medicine of Young Astronauts". Definitely for fans of Circle! Potentially for fans of Tortoise, Stereolab, Ui, Aavikko, and Can...recommended!
We were super psyched how crazy people went for the Ovens, whose debut full length (which crammed together 44 songs and THREE actual albums onto one disc) released earlier this year on tUMULt was easily the pop record of the year, if not EVER. These guys are total geniuses, spitting out song after song, usually a minute or less, often MUCH less, each jammed with hooks and melodies and goofy lyrics and shredding leads and pounding drums that most bands would kill for. We compared them to some impossible mix of Weezer, the Beatles, the Melvins, the Fucking Champs and Guided By Voices, and while that might capture their essence, what they do is so much more than the sum of their influences.
This 10 song 15 minute ep, recorded way back in 2003 (when they were still called the Peels), is raw and rough around the edges, much punker, but is still rife with incredible songwriting, some kick ass guitar shreddery, ridiculously catchy hooks, and those same gorgeous instrumental interludes, lyrics about how the songs sound better in their heads, getting wasted, sleeping, dying, puking and all sorts of gloriously mundane stuff. They're definitely still a pop band, but back then, their punkishness really shone through, with some of the punkest jams reminding us of the Dwarves at their poppiest, balancing their more strummy Beatles-esque moments, the two sides of the band constantly battling for supremacy, neither winning, more often than not resulting in a wild ultra chaotic falling apart draw.
The band hate this record, but fuck it, there are some awesome jams here, and anyone who bought the tUMULt full length will most likely dig this one too.
We can definitely get all hyperbolic and gushing when we're super into something, nothing wrong with that, so with that disclaimer out of the way, we can once again proclaim that these guys just might be one of our favorite local bands. Here's hoping the rest of the country, the world and the universe catch on soon.
Where to even start? Within seconds of first hearing these guys, they pretty much became our favorite local band, fuck it, favorite band period (sez Andee). Shredding hook jammed pop blasts, most less than a minute long, many of those 30 seconds and under, but each one packed with some of the catchiest most timeless sounding pop you've ever heard. Weezer meets the Beatles meets the Beach Boys meets old Bee Gees meets Guided By Voices meets the Fucking Champs, super rocking, punky here and there, metal once in a while, but always total pure pop genius, with lyrics about doing drugs, getting fired, falling down the stairs, getting hurt, how much they suck and how their songs all sound the same, doing more drugs, all delivered by a vocalist that sounds uncannily like the skinny John from They Might Be Giants! Acoustic guitars, wild shredding leads, buzzing distorted chug, warm wheezing keyboards, fluttery flutes, incredible harmonies, and HOOKS like you wouldn't believe. These guys accomplish more in 30 seconds than most pop bands can pull off over the course of a full album. And they accomplish more in these 44 songs than most bands manage in their whole careers.
Check out the first sound sample, the ultimate one-two-three-four-five power pop punch, pretty much the absolutely perfect opening salvo, five songs in less than five minutes, we've listened to that 5 song chunk about a million times. It destroys. Check it out. We'll wait.....
But don't stop there, the rest of the record is pretty much just as kick ass. Some songs are hushed and dreamy, others are pounding and super rocking, some soar majestically, others are wildly metallic freakouts, Iron Maiden-y guitar harmonies wrap around weird Melvins like falsetto vocals, summery folky strums drift over calliope like keyboards, crunchy guitars unfurl jangly jams, while the vocals drawl lazily over the top. So many different sounds and styles but all totally perfectly fused into the Ovens' weirdly perfect pop world.
The band have been recording for years, full length after full length, and minus a super short run release a few years back, the songs just sat there, until the band had a backlog of 5 full albums. Former aQ-er Matt from Wildildlife was always talking them up and when we finally managed to get some music from those guys, well shit, we were bowled over. And Andee especially, knew the world needed to hear this stuff. So this debut cd features 3 of the 5 albums jammed onto one disc. 44 Songs, every one a total hook filled gem. Live the band are as likely to kick out a cover of the Bee Gee's "Holiday" as they are some old Melvins jam. They manage to sound heavy and crunchy, but also delicate and folky, often those two sides colliding in a burst of total freaking mad genius popsmithery. If there was any justice in the world these guys would be HUGE. Every song here is as good if not better than any Weezer song, and they pull it off in half the time. The lyrics are hilarious, deadpan, self deprecating, clever and snarky, the musicianship is totally stellar, especially the guitars, the arrangements are unique, sometimes super unexpected but somehow they never take way from the song or the hook, and every curveball they throw manages to sound more catchy than off kilter. We could gush and gush, and go on and on about how pop bands like this are such a rarity, but man, how these guys went so long without blowing up, still boggles the mind. So now's the time. These guys rule. They have a new record. They're going on tour. And we're so psyched to see these guys kick out the jams at our SXSW showcase this year. They're loud and fun, and funny and catchy and heavy and super rocking, and these are some of the catchiest most kick ass songs you will ever hear. EVER!
THE FIRST 50 COPIES COME WITH A BONUS TAPE, ONLY AVAILABLE FROM AQ, featuring Ovens mainman Tony's solo stuff, not all that far removed from the Ovens, if anything, the songs are even shorter, more esoteric, sometimes heavier, a couple of the jams are full on metal or grind, but last all of 20 or 30 seconds, lots of covers, just as impossibly catchy and hooky and irresistible. 12 songs in just under 13 minutes, including cover versions of tunes by Roy Wood, Dead Milkmen, Camper Van Beethoven and Telly Savalas (!!). Comes with a cool printed insert.
MPEG Stream: "Fired From The Vogue Pt. 1 / Fired From The Vogue Pt. 2 / Same Shit Different Day / PCP Song / Everything's The Same" [/audio/ovensmedley.m3u]
More amazing stuff from the vaults from these late (maybe) great (most definitely) SF pop geniuses. Ovens was Tony Molina's grind pop juggernaut before he went 'solo', and like the Ovens cd on Andee's tUMULt label (of which these tracks were meant to be included, when it was originally planned as an 'everything ever' sort of collection), here's 4 super short, crushingly catchy timeless classic noise pop nuggets, two sides, nine minutes, a bit punkier than later Ovens stuff, but only a bit, still strummy dreamy acoustic guitars, super melodic leads, some metal guitar chug, killer vocal harmonies, impossibly hooky melodies... more pop goodness crammed into these minute long bursts than most bands manage on a whole record, equal parts Weezer, Guided By Voices, Teenage Fanclub, the Beatles (at least one blatantly and brilliantly ripped off Beatles part here, see if you can spot it), Bee Gees, the Fucking Champs, Beach Boys, Thin Lizzy, all of Molina's influences crammed into another clutch of pitch perfect poppiness.
Recorded in 2005 with Kurt Bloch of the Fastbacks, limited as always, and these Ovens singles seem to disappear crazy quick, so grab one before they're gone...
The latest (posthumous?) single from local noise pop geniuses the Ovens, fronted by Tony Molina of the Tony Molina Band, and if you've been digging Tony's recent solo lp, and have yet to hear the Ovens, prepare yourself for some seriously mind blowing pop overload. This single is untitled like the last two (and the cd on tUMULt) and like those records, this new (old) 7" is another dizzying survey of this group's impeccable pop chops. Eight songs in about 6 minutes, equal parts Weezer, Guided By Voices, Teenage Fanclub, the Beatles, the Fastbacks, Dinosaur Jr, plenty of fuzz and crunch and jangle, glorious harmonies, some shredding leads, laid back laconic vox, and as always, hooks galore, oodles of catchiness crammed into seconds. These tracks were recorded back in 2008, and this 7" is meant to be a sort of companion to the last single on Catholic Guilt. The sounds is a bit more lo-fi, but there's no disguising this sort of utter pop mastery. The only frustrating part of these micro-missives is that you'll find yourself flipping this single over and over and over and over and over, every three minutes...
Ovens just might be the most underappreciated best band in SF. Although that looks like it could maybe be about to change. The various members live in different cities now, and only really play about once a year, but at their most recent show, a few weeks back, HUNDREDS of people showed up, and went NUTS, there was a pit, and crowd surfing, in a tiny little hole in the wall club. Which might have you thinking these guys are some sort of heavy punk rock band, when in fact, they're a pop band. An amazing incredible pop band, whose songs routinely clock in at about the 30 second mark, and whose lyrics are mostly about getting drunk, getting high, getting fired or getting hurt. We joke that if their songs were longer and weren't all about drugs, they would be THEE most popular band in the land. And we believe it. Their sound like some impossible mix of Weezer, Guided By Voices, The Beatles, Thin Lizzy (who they covered at that show), Teenage Fanclub, old Bee Gees (who they also occasionally cover) and the Fucking Champs. Total hook filled pop, with killer dual guitar harmonies, shredding leads, amazing hooks, like the sort of hooks most bands would KILL for, but these guys toss out hooks like that in 20 second songs and simply move on to the NEXT killer hook. Hell, our own Andee loved Ovens so much he put out their debut full length (much more raving about these guys in that review elsewhere on the aQ site, and heck, if you don't have that yet, you should buy it NOW).
This latest blast of perfect pop is just that, perfect. Nine songs in 8 minutes, the longest song 1:59, the shortest :34, the band kicking out feedback drenched fuzzy power pop one second, lilting Beatles-esque ballad the next, a dreamy acoustic guitarscape leads right into a woozy chunk of nineties style indie rock, but with those guitar harmonies, that kill, and then it's right into another perfect chunk of miniature pop, in the amount of time it's taken to write this review, we've listened to the whole single 3 times in a row, and the thing is, now that the review's almost done, doesn't mean we have any intention of stopping.
Easily one of our favorite local bands, heck, local or not, these guys are incredible! And if you get a chance to see one of their rare (and usually brief, not to mention littered with eighties hardcore covers, although at that most recent show, they covered Leeway!!) performances, don't blow it, if there's any justice in the world, these guys will be HUGE, and the world will be humming along to their jams, 30 seconds at a time!!
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!!
Italian duo OvO is a band that we think a select crowd of AQ-customers will totally appreciate. But...don't look at that awful cover. Oooh, what were they thinking? Well the (sorta) little-girl voice of OvO's singer Stefania does perhaps explain the little-girl drawing on the cover (which she drew). As does the Load label's often willfully 'ugly' aesthetic. But where that illustration is sort of twee, cringe-inducing cutesiness, Stefania's voice is far from cutesy! It's a rabid, wretched little girl we're talking about. Her yelping shriek has been compared to both a squeaky toy and a wheezing dog dying by folks here at AQ. Basically, if you hate the extended high-pitched babble of Yoko Ono, stay away! Nerve-grating for sure. We don't know how she does it. Must need a lot of lozenges.
Meanwhile, OvO's music ranges from chaotic punk frenzy to plodding, art-rock dirge. In addition to the unusual, extreme vocals, OvO also uses/abuses cello, for extra droning ambience. They're hard to compare to anybody, but we'll throw out these names: the aforementioned Yoko Ono, Load labelmates Noxagt, Double Nelson, Oxbow, and Khanate. Or maybe a twisted, primitive, Japanoise version of Devil Doll ('cause they're Italian and sorta theatrical sounding). Definitely not always (ever?) easy listening, but strangely fascinating. For us, it's the endurance-testing 20 minute title track that makes this a keeper. A torturous trudge with throaty rasping and heavy doomy death-knell drums and guitar. Oppressive. Depressive. Feedback hell gargle. Very much in the vein of Corrupted and Khanate. But with witchy Yoko vox! Like we said, the select few will love it.
Very warm and pretty! Waves of dreamy strummi-ness and murmured vocals. Drifting in a similar path to that of Tristeza, the newest American Analog Set album or fellow Chicago, IL mellow boys Sea And Cake... actually, I very much prefer this. So who is Owen
We had never heard Owl Glitters before, but they definitely sound like something we sure as shit should have. Falling somewhere between exotic psych folk, lysergic pop, hard rocking space rock, ritualistic doom, and even some blackened buzz. It sounds like a mishmash, but all of those disparate elements somehow fuse into some serious sonic headiness. It reminds us a bit of a more unhinged, way more ramshackle version of psych rockers Black Mountain, with a hefty dose of that sort of tribal forest folk of which we can never seem to get enough.
Darkly groovy, some songs slither and swagger, others bliss out into sun dappled paisley poppiness; some mutate into haunting vocal chorales, and still others churn malevolently. The vocals are definitely the most distinctive element and seem to be what drives most of these songs, regardless of the particular strain of psychedelia, they're a haunting, chant-like croon, which gives the sound a very liturgical vibe, the whole thing reminiscent of the glory days of acid psych and seventies folk. And as mentioned above, there's still some buzz here and there, with those tracks getting seriously sinister, although overall, this is some seriously woozy and washed out, psych folk mesmer of the highest order!
We loved the most recent record on Paradigms from these Boston psychedelic drifters, a haunting collection of abstract dronefolk and electronic flecked ambient drift. But for whatever reason, we never got enough copies to list, which is a shame, cuz it's definitely something aQ dronefans would dig. But hopefully, we'll make up for it a bit with this new one, a single track lp called Destroyers Of The Moon, which is a gloriously epic landscape of cinematic swirls, of dusky twang, of thick analog synth thrum, sweeping strings, subtly psychedelic effects, super dark and brooding, haunting and cinematic, the music is a lush layered sprawl of long tones, of disembodied chamber music, and of ominous dronefolk doominess. The vocals are a raspy whisper, giving the movements with vocals the feel of one of the Neurosis acoustic side projects, but when the vocals fade, the sound blossoms into something more abstract, draping smoldering folky twang over heaving rumbles and swells, the vibe is a little bit Barn Owl, a little bit later Earth, some slow build Godspeed going on too, especially with the strings, and while it's not a single album long track proper, it is essentially a linked set of songs, an epic songsuite of spectral, minimalist doom folk chamber psych dreaminess.
But it's not all hushed and dreamlike, thick swaths of fuzz guitar roll in, adding some shadowy heft, and transforming the sound into something a bit more droned out and almost metallic, but never fully loosing itself from the swirling psychedelic spaciness and creeping downer folk that is the core of Owlfood's sound. There's one stretch of soft, rumbling noise, droned out and mesmerizing, that gradually coalesces into some clanging jangly chords, bursting into some noisy effects heavy strum, the vocals follow suit, even more heavily effected, it's super dramatic and tripped out, and might just be the best part of the record, tense and intense, super tripped out, but still anchored by those Morricone-esque guitar melodies, building to a seriously freaked out sonic squall, one we almost wish could have been sustained for the rest of the record, but instead, the song shifts back into doomfolk mode, and the rest of the record, drifts darkly, from strummed, sinister mesmer, to string flecked folk-drone shimmer, finishing with a bit of swirling string psychedelia.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES!! Includes a digital download as well!
All the people in Owls were in the far punker outfit Cap'n Jazz, but this band is more like the Owls' Kinsella Bros other project Joan of Arc. Midtempo angular emo with tortured vocals (which kind of ruin it for me, but I'm stupid). On Jade Tree.
This is REAL 'emo' rock, let me tell you. Not indie-pop emo but totally heavy, insane, noisy emotionally cathartic art rock mayhem. URB magazine says this is a 'must have', which is pretty bizarre because while WE think Oxbow rules, it's hard to imagine
We've written a lot about this band over the years (many years - they've been around for, like, 20!). Here's a quote: "Oxbow have always languished in relative obscurity here in the US when they really deserve to be ruling the whole damn world. Essential, intense, heavy, dark, weird, artful, aggressive, fucked genius with few peers."
We said that years ago about the previous reissue of Fuckfest (as an import double cd with their 2nd album King Of The Jews) and while they've gotten a bit less obscure - their unholy alliance with the Hydra Head empire has helped a lot in recent years, way better for them than their former label, SST - and Oxbow now have fans from among the legions of metalcore/postrock kids for sure, they still aren't yet the overlords of all that they should be. Maybe in the next life (now that would be a shock!). Those that have gotten into 'em though, in this life, are indeed the chosen ones.
Now Hydra Head has done all the new Oxbow fans a favor and reissued the band's magnificent 1989 debut Fuckfest on cd by itself for the first time, in a nice mini-lp-style sleeve, remastered. If you haven't heard Oxbow before, this is just the place to start, begin at the beginning. If you have heard Oxbow, but haven't heard Fuckfest, then you need to. All their albums are amazing, but this one is the one that first blew our minds way back when (well along with King Of The Jews, their other early effort that followed this in 1991, we first heard 'em both together on 2-on-1 cd Balls In the Great Meat Grinder Collection released by the long defunct Pathological label in the UK), and has the same effect today. Some insane shit here folks.
Fuckfest features all the trademark Oxbow elements... Sheer heaviness and suspenseful calm. Nearly indecipherable yet disturbingly expressive, anguished, almost hysterical vocals. Transgressive lyrics bawled by a man-baby-monster. Massive sheets of swampy slide guitar. Skittery bleeding hand solos. Led Zeppish cockrock riffage one moment, abstract angular post punk dissonance the next. Tinkling piano. Jazz infected drumming, country tinged atmosphere. What we'd now call postrock loud-soft dynamics. Music that's cathartic, cacophonous and complex. As well as impassioned and emotive. And exceedingly well crafted.
This album is maybe Oxbow at their most "metal" (and punk). After all, the original release was billed as "a six-song mega-muscled trip into total desperation". Certainly it's a tour de force of primal screaming stomping staggering, that's also surprisingly full of beaten-down beauty.
You could compare Oxbow then and now to the likes of the Jesus Lizard, the Melvins, the Bad Seeds, and there's elements of all of those here, but from the get-go Oxbow was OXBOW. Nothing else like 'em, and that's not even taking their infamous live performances into account.
To quote something else one of us (Allan, when he interviewed guitarist Niko in the first issue of his old 'zine) wrote about Oxbow long ago: "Oxbow is definitely a what-the-hell-is-this? kind of band... I can only describe their sound as kinda if you took, say, the Jesus Lizard, Neurosis, the Ruins, and Caroliner and got them all howling at the moon together". Again, that just means they're unique. And amazing. (And, to be sure, maybe not for everyone.) Fuckfest proves all that, though fans know already.
Thanks, Hydra Head. Presumably we can look forward to a similar reissue of King Of The Jews soon too? The same review above will go for it too, pretty much!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Double cd collecting the first two utterly amazing Oxbow lps from '89 and '91, which previously were available on cd as The Balls In The Great Meat Grinder Collection on the UK's Pathological label, now out of print--but that was only one disc, which meant a whole song was scrapped, and another faded out. Those have been restored here, plus you get an unreleased track called "Pannonica" from the King Of The Jews sessions. Guests on these albums include Lydia Lunch and Klaus Floride. Recently returned from a tour in Japan, Oxbow have always langushed in relative obscurity here in the US (current domestic label=SST, argh) when they really deserve to be ruling the whole damn world. Essential, intense, heavy, dark, weird, artful, aggressive, fucked genius with few peers.
If someone had never heard San Francisco's Oxbow before, and knew nothing about them - or for that matter knew nothing about Sammy Davis Jr. either - we wonder what they'd make of that album title/cover art? Definitely wouldn't help 'em guess what sort of music lies within, some of the earliest and insanest stuff by an AQ fave band we lovingly call "fucked rock geniuses". If you are one of those innocent souls who have never heard Oxbow before, well, dive in here and see if you can take it. And needless to say, if you are already an Oxbow fan, of course you NEED this if you don't have it already, which you might not, since until now Oxbow's 1991 sophomore album King Of The Jews has never been available as a domestic compact disc release. It has been paired previously with their 1989 debut Fuckfest as an abridged single cd, and then later as a double, both imports long out of print, as are of course the original vinyl lps on Oxbow's own label CFY Records. And this new Hydra Head reissue is the most deluxe and definitive, packaged in a nice paste-on mini lp-style sleeve, and enhanced with four bonus tracks, three of 'em previously unreleased.
Back when we reviewed Hydra Head's similarly presented, equally essential reissue of Fuckfest in 2009, we said that when they did King Of The Jews, we'd probably just write more or less the same review, that is, saying that this record also displays all the elements of Oxbow we appreciate: primal swampy skree and atmospheric loud-soft dynamics, lumbering slide guitar sickness and singer Eugene's regression therapy vocal histrionics... it's part Scratch Acid (or Jesus Lizard), part Butthole Surfers, part Birthday Party, part Cormac McCarthy novel, part primal psycho-sexual cabaret, part utterly alien WTF?!
This album's special guest star Lydia Lunch joins the madness on 2 of the cuts, "Daughter" and "Angel", utterly subsumed into the crazy, kecak-y, confusional handclap chaos of the former (what an album opener, damn!!), adding extra drama to the latter. Not that Oxbow needs much help in the drama department; Eugene's bedlamite mewlings and mutterings amidst the band's desolate atmospheres and sudden rock spasms are both bizarre and intense and go way beyond mere music-as-entertainment that's for sure.
Oxbow has been keeping rock weird for a long time now, and this is one of the most crucial documents in their entire discography. It'll clue you to the Oxbow formula of lots of tension, not so much release, though there's more of the latter here than on some other Oxbow outings... Highly, highly recommended!
At last! This 1995 Oxbow opus, the third album from our favorite San Francisco fucked rock geniuses, has been reissued, with two never-before released bonus tracks appended. A Steve Albini production, the album proper features special guests the Rova Saxophone Quartet, while the bonus tracks see Oxbow collaborating with the late Kathy Acker, the feminist/punk writer. For those unfamiliar with the wonders of Oxbow, this album would make a fine introduction, and fans of course MUST OWN it. It shows off their weirdly catchy brand of aggro art rock, totally heavy and, what's the word, transgressive? When they're not kicking your ass, they can get into some hauntingly gorgeous droney territory as well (as on bonus track#1). But their forte is sliding seasick Led Zeppelin guitar riffage with wailing mental-breakdown vocals, songs loaded with hard-hitting, post-post-rock dynamics and complexity. Let Me Be A Woman, like all of Oxbow's best work, radiates a shuddering vibe of despair, angst, and seething violence. Terrible beauty indeed. Originally on Dutch label Brinkman, this now appears via the French label Ruminance, testament to the superior tastes of Continentals we suppose!
Rock and roll as a raw nerve art form, that's the intense Oxbow aethetic... a band that dares you to listen, much less attend one of their shows. Avant garde yet drawn to swampy roots, Oxbow's approach is both intellectual and primal at the same time, these men channeling psychic and physical distress into their music, so much tension and release it's disturbing to behold... This brilliant and unique Bay Area outfit has been going strong against all odds for almost two decades now (!) and with each passing year seem to gain a wider audience, despite never ever being a part of any scene or trend. Not one that would help them, anyway. Except maybe now, that they've seemingly been accepted into the Neurosis/Isis axis of arty post-metal noisecore, releasing their last full-length An Evil Heat 4 or 5 years ago on the Neurot label and now (finally!) reappearing on Hydra Head with this cd+dvd package. Love That's Last isn't exactly the new Oxbow opus we've being waiting for, since it's not an all-new album but rather a collection, complete with commentary and lyrics in the booklet, of unreleased live cuts, improv tracks, compilation rarities, and a few "greatest hits" from their hard to find early albums. You'll certainly get a representative serving of their cathartic ugly/pretty rock action here, with all of Oxbow's characteristic Bonham beats, slide guitar skronk, droning ambience, and of course the distinctive mewling/screaming baby monster vocalizations of scary front man/fighting man Eugene Robinson. Highlights (and that's what all this is, really) range from their infamous "Insylum" duet with Marianne Faithful from 1996's Serenade In Red to the 1998 live recording "Glimmer Bird" to the prototypical expression of Oxbow anguish that is "Yoke" from their 1989 Fuckfest debut. Ten tracks in all... you too might be crying like a baby when it's over. Oxbow would be happy about that.
The DVD portion includes 5.1 mixes of a handful of Oxbow classics, plus filmmaker Christian Anthony's Oxbow documentary Music For Adults (previously available here at AQ when it was a dvd-r release) with outtakes too, AND a bunch of additional live footage of the band in Belgium and San Francisco. Here's what we said about Music For Adults before: "Now you can vicariously join Oxbow for their summer 2002 European tour. Even better than actually being there, you can enjoy their shows and tour hijinx without running any risk of Oxbow singer Eugene getting you in a headlock (and pulling down your pants, as happens to at least one unhappy Scotsman in this film). The live footage captures the Oxbow rock machine in all their twisted, bawling glory, while the 'behind-the-scenes' stuff will show you that they're actually all really nice guys!"
So, Oxbow fans NEED this. And it's obviously the first thing the prospective Oxbow fan needs to pick up as well. Hopefully that's just what's gonna happen. Recommended as always with all Oxbow product!
NOW ON VINYL!! Gatefold.
Finally! What, five years in the making? It's been that long since San Francisco's unhinged avantgarde-hardcore-blues-metal artistes the one and only Oxbow last lashed an explosive new full-length recording to our heads and pulled the pin, way back in 2002 with An Evil Heat. Yeah, last year's "live and rare" cd+dvd collection Love That's Last was great for fans and newcomers alike, but also whetted our appetite to hear some actual new dementia from this unique outfit. But Oxbow have always done things at their own leisure, having been around for long enough to now be selling records to metalcore kids who were probably not even born when Oxbow's first album, Fuckfest, came out in 1989. This is only their sixth studio album since then, but when you make music this intense, this cathartic, this disturbed, deviant, raw, heavy, fucked up, etc. etc. (to use a bunch of the usual words to appropriately describe Oxbow) it's not like you could, or should, make that many albums. It wouldn't be healthy!
Over the years, Oxbow has inevitably changed, grown, matured. The mania of early albums like Fuckfest and King Of The Jews has been relaxed (though always ready to erupt), and there's been more in the way of beauty crammed into their complex compositions to contrast with the ugly stuff. Even as they find more and more of a "metal" audience with releases on Neurot and now Hydra Head, their music is sweetened with strings and piano... But The Narcotic Story still brutalizes with the Oxbow basics: sinewy slide guitar riffage, moody soft-loud dynamics, mathrock tightness, and of course the psychotic vocals & lyrics of singer-you-wouldn't-want-to-fuck-with Eugene Robinson. His delivery is sometimes like a mewling baby, sometimes like a crotchety grandpa, usually both at the same time, Robinson his own multi-tracked schizoid choir. Here, his homeless-man mumbling and primal screams are joined by more coherent singing. But you'll still have to listen hard to figure out what he's on about -- if you dare. Just like at an Oxbow show, it's dangerous to get too close.
Definitely, Robinson is an essential part of the Oxbow equation (one that will make or break the band for the uninitiated), but his naked displays of verbal and non-verbal (again, go see 'em live!) nihilism wouldn't carry the same weight without the sparse tension, technical precision, and dramatic, damaged melodicism provided by the instrument-equipped band members. The Narcotic Story finds them keeping up their end as well. "Frankly Frank" is a classic, swampy Oxbow creepy-crawl, "She's A Find" a lovely, lush dirge. These tracks and all the rest here are the Oxbow fix old addicts like us want and need, and ought to hook a few unsuspecting, previously clean-living youths as well, for whom Isis and Neurosis were the gateway drugs...
Back in stock! We've now got the French version of this classic Oxbow album. No, it's not IN French, we mean now that the original SST cd is out of print, we've imported copies of the cd edition released in France on the Ruminance label (home also of Cheval De Frise and Chevreuil). Here's our review from when it was an Aquarius Record Of The Week back in 1999:
A masterpiece of dark, cathartic, emotional rock cabaret from this great San Francisco band. Heavy slide guitar, baby-like wailings (from Oxbow's large, scary, nearly-naked body builder frontman Eugene), Nick Cave-ambience & math-rock technicality. Kind of like the Jesus Lizard meets Marianne Faithfull, except that Ms. Faithfull actually does appear on this record! (and the Lizard do not; Oxbow slaughters them...) I might also mention the cover pic by Richard Kern and the production by Steve Albini, but Oxbow are their own special thing, original and amazing, and those celebs are mere hangers-on.
San Francisco's legendary confrontational exports Oxbow return with another sonic beatdown in the form of this vinyl only release. The first side features the band and French noisemaker Philippe Thiphaine winging it in the studio. The fact that these songs are improvisations recorded "in 180 non-successive minutes" is testament to this band's unholy powers. The songs are lumbering and almost doomy at times, but Eugene Robinson's crazed vocals give the band a slurred swamp blues feel. It kind of sounds like the Jesus Lizard on quaaludes - meaning this is right up our alley. It's disturbing and awesome, and Oxbow, more than most bands, really understand how to work with negative space for that extra dose of creepiness. It's sort of like walking down a dark alley and knowing you're about to get your ass kicked, without knowing exactly when. At the same time, Oxbow are experts at rocking out. Their sound is nihilistic and unstoppable like few others. It wouldn't be right to call them "metal," but they certainly possess many attributes that so many metal bands just can't grasp but desperately wish they could. One thing's certain: Oxbow are scary as fuck.
Side 2 features the band in the most ideal setting - live, in concert, terrifying small clubs throughout Europe (though not France, if you are curious). The band simply SLAYS here, and if you needed any more proof of their truly unique sound, look no further. It's interesting that Oxbow takes a sort of post-punk starting point and ventures seamlessly into greater realms of musical exploration. Robinson's voice is something to behold here as he screeches and moans like a crazy man. The band is in top form on these tracks, displaying a loping, queasy attack that is both tight as hell and almost, ahem, "jazzy" at times. It's heavy and atonal as it winds all over the place, and strangest of all, it's actually kind of catchy. It sounds like the culmination of years of collective hatred and a perfect understanding of their own sound.
This one comes housed in a classy thick sleeve on nice heavy vinyl, and we give this bad boy our highest recommendation.
Finally! What, five years in the making? It's been that long since San Francisco's unhinged avantgarde-hardcore-blues-metal artistes the one and only Oxbow last lashed an explosive new full-length recording to our heads and pulled the pin, way back in 2002 with An Evil Heat. Yeah, last year's "live and rare" cd+dvd collection Love That's Last was great for fans and newcomers alike, but also whetted our appetite to hear some actual new dementia from this unique outfit. But Oxbow have always done things at their own leisure, having been around for long enough to now be selling records to metalcore kids who were probably not even born when Oxbow's first album, Fuckfest, came out in 1989. This is only their sixth studio album since then, but when you make music this intense, this cathartic, this disturbed, deviant, raw, heavy, fucked up, etc. etc. (to use a bunch of the usual words to appropriately describe Oxbow) it's not like you could, or should, make that many albums. It wouldn't be healthy!
Over the years, Oxbow has inevitably changed, grown, matured. The mania of early albums like Fuckfest and King Of The Jews has been relaxed (though always ready to erupt), and there's been more in the way of beauty crammed into their complex compositions to contrast with the ugly stuff. Even as they find more and more of a "metal" audience with releases on Neurot and now Hydra Head, their music is sweetened with strings and piano... But The Narcotic Story still brutalizes with the Oxbow basics: sinewy slide guitar riffage, moody soft-loud dynamics, mathrock tightness, and of course the psychotic vocals & lyrics of singer-you-wouldn't-want-to-fuck-with Eugene Robinson. His delivery is sometimes like a mewling baby, sometimes like a crotchety grandpa, usually both at the same time, Robinson his own multi-tracked schizoid choir. Here, his homeless-man mumbling and primal screams are joined by more coherent singing. But you'll still have to listen hard to figure out what he's on about -- if you dare. Just like at an Oxbow show, it's dangerous to get too close.
Definitely, Robinson is an essential part of the Oxbow equation (one that will make or break the band for the uninitiated), but his naked displays of verbal and non-verbal (again, go see 'em live!) nihilism wouldn't carry the same weight without the sparse tension, technical precision, and dramatic, damaged melodicism provided by the instrument-equipped band members. The Narcotic Story finds them keeping up their end as well. "Frankly Frank" is a classic, swampy Oxbow creepy-crawl, "She's A Find" a lovely, lush dirge. These tracks and all the rest here are the Oxbow fix old addicts like us want and need, and ought to hook a few unsuspecting, previously clean-living youths as well, for whom Isis and Neurosis were the gateway drugs...
FYI, we hear that someday Hydra Head has plans to release a deluxe edition of this cd, in some sort of special packaging, a hardback book apparently... dunno when though.
We sold through our stash of these in nothing flat when we first listed this a little while back. Luckily, one of our distributors got a handful in, so we grabbed all we could, so everyone who missed out on this the first time around, now's your chance (probably your last chance)...
Two different sides of longtime aQ faves Oxbow, recorded live at the Supersonic festival in 2007.
The A side features a handful of Oxbow tracks, all stripped down and acoustic - just acoustic guitar, and the wild feral mewling of frontman Eugene Robinson. And you would think that playing stripped down and acoustic would make it sound more mellow, less frenzied and intense, but it doesn't. In plenty of places, it's like the guitar isn't even there, it's definitely Eugene's show. A wild caterwaul that even somehow gets the crowd shouting along. Intense and emotional, darkly intimate, but still strangely sinister and explosive. Essential for sure for all Oxbow fanatics.
But it's the flipside that will probably make this disappear in no time. A side long jam, that begins much like the A side tracks, simple urgently strummed acoustic guitar, and those primal vocals, until the guests make their presence known, Stephen O'Malley from SUNNO))), and Justin Broadrick from Jesu / Godflesh, the bass player from God, and even a string quartet. When those folks join the fray, it sounds almost like you might imagine, the acoustic guitar and vocals, buried under moaning strings and sheets of soaring blissed out high end, streaks of glistening feedback, crumbling rumbling swells of downtuned amp melting grind, thick sheets of buzz and shimmer, all draped over the haunting acoustic Oxbow musical drama unfolding beneath. Pretty amazing. Here's hoping these guys stopped by a studio to capture more of this stuff. But until that happens, this will most likely be your only chance to hear Oxbow's twisted, frenzied, so called "Love's Holiday Orchestra".
Beautifully packaged in super thick black matte sleeves, with silver metallic printing, with an insert featuring photos of the evening's festivities, as well as Oxbow guitarist Niko Wenner's recollection of the evening's festivities... which according to Eugene, leaves out the critical part where they left him for dead, knocked out and unconscious on the stage!
You know Oxbow, our favorite cult, avant-garde, psycho-sexual hard rock outfit from right here in San Francisco? Well now thanks to filmmaker Christian Anthony, now you can vicariously join Oxbow for their summer 2002 European tour. Even better than actually being there, you can enjoy their shows and tour hijinx without running any risk of Oxbow singer Eugene getting you in a headlock (and pulling down your pants, as happens to at least one unhappy Scotsman in this film). The live footage captures the Oxbow rock machine in all their twisted, bawling glory, while the 'behind-the-scenes' stuff will show you that they're actually all really nice guys! The sound is fine for the performances, but sometimes you'll have to turn up your tv to make out the interview portions due to unavoidable background noise. It's a DVD-R, homemade production but totally pro in filmic execution. Definitely one for Oxbow fans, to tide you over until they play your town again (unlikely unless you live in SF or in Europe) and 'til their next album comes out (rumored to be a Hydrahead release in 2005). Folks unacquainted with Oxbow might be mystified, but if you've got the right stuff you might just become a fan too. Check it out...
Got your calculators? Oxes sure do. Comin' at ya wielding their battalion of Texas Instruments. Simply put, this is indie metal / mathrock = trying to be tight and fiery, but somewhat lacking the chops to execute it as skillfully as required. So instead it sounds like east coast metalcore's sloppy younger brother. 4 + 3 = 7/4. Time signatures for the sake of time signatures. They're probably pretty rad live though.
Hailing from Charm City [Bal'more, MD], the sly math-rock trio of Oxes have been spending a lot of time apart these days with 1/3 of them living in Italy. By their ep's artwork, this has had a dynamic effect on the band. An amazing array of photos and photo-collage shows 2/3 of the band heavily immersed in Americana: hot dogs, guns, football, KFC, donuts, Budweiser, Mr. T and the like; while the other third calmly plays a flirtatious game of cards while lazing time away with a coffee and a beautiful lady in a little Italian deli.
Again a molto scrappy recording here -- though if you're a fan of the band, at this point you can use your memory of how awesome and hilarious they are when they play live to buffer the sound quality. These songs are a little more macho than we remember the band being in the past. Several veiny rock-guitar solos make us think they watched some cool Hendrix bootlegs before writing some of the songs. So dare we go so far as to say that EP is less math, more rock?! Yes, finally the Oxes have thrown off their glasses, let their hair down and shown us some leg!
We love that they included little details of the band's history in the cover art: their Mall of America Wheaties cereal box cover photo, and a slice of artwork from their last release Oxxxes.
Hope they have a full length up their sleeves soon.
Ever wonder what happens when you cross the modern classical riffage of The (Fucking) Champs with the chromatic stop-start edginess of Shellac? Yeah, me neither... but if you did, you would have something like this. That is, if you had no bass and
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
There are rumors flying around that the Arab on Radar side of this record is in fact the Oxes paying a very convincing tribute to the Providence, RI quartet (which it is in fact!!). The fact that the recording is inconsistent with past AoR efforts, not to mention the similarities between the two bands' recordings here, plus the fact that the photographs on the front and back of this lp are of the same band (the rear being a mockery of AOR live -- most notably the drummer walking away from his kit in a state of disarray) furthers those rumors. A wonderfully annoying record nonetheless.
Here's the third album (their debut on Sub Pop) from breezy Brooklyn popsters Oxford Collapse, an indie rock band who unflinchingly replicate the sounds of beloved bands such as Modest Mouse and Pinback. While we can assure fans of those two bands that they'll probably find many ear pleasers comin' from this trio, we can also say the same to the lovers of Arcade Fire, Hidden Cameras, Ok Go and Architecture In Helsinki. The album's totally wistfully feel-good. Even if you didn't have summertime sweetie, these songs will make you feel like you did.
Full length number two from this mysterious cinematic lo-fi synthscaper from the Pacific Northwest, whose first record was a surprise hit around these parts. A surprise in part because of the strange band name, that didn't and doesn't even begin to hint at the creepy synthy bliss that lurks inside. And if anything, this new one takes everything we loved about the first tape, and shapes it into something less lo-fi summer-synth party jam, and more haunting John Carpenter style cinematic 8 bit mood music. And holy shit is this stuff good. All the bands out there peddling their particular brand of retro futuristic synthesized sound, would do well to keep an eye on this guy, cuz if this stuff gets the attention it truly deserves, the rest of the synth wranglers out there are really gonna have to up their game.
Needless to say, if you're a fan of folks like Gatekeeper, Bitchin Bajas, Xander Harris, Nightsatan, Stellar Om Source, Umberto, Majeure, Roll The Dice, Solar Bears and all the rest, then odds are you're gonna love this. But Oxykitten definitely has his own take on that sound, adding flurries of old school 8 bit bleepage and bloopage, or some darkly propulsive krautrock groove, often in the same song. Robotic space funk turns into alien eighties soundtrack turns into droned out analog kosmische drift and back again, "Nar Nar Dargarstar" might be our favorite, a buzzy creep, with dense swaths of thick low end buzz, warped minor key melodies, and cool little high end trills, like the soundtrack for the NES version of Deep Red Or Suspiria. AWESOME.
Includes a download code as well.
