You probably don't need us telling you about The Rapture. But if you've been in hiding for the past few months, The Rapture's "Echoes" has been one of the most widely anticipated albums of the season. There has been an inordinant amount of hype surrounding this band and the DFA production team; and often that type of silliness doesn't really play that well here at Aquarius. So for us, the anticipation was out of a simple question which many other people have been asking as well: Is anything else on Echoes as good as that "House of Jealous Lovers" track? Honestly, no; but The Rapture trying to out-groove "House of Jealous Lovers" is like My Bloody Valentine trying to out-shoegaze "Soon." It's just not going to happen. And if that question is what you needed answered, we're happy to oblige.
However if you look beyond that obvious question, and beyond the ridiculous hype of 'New York's best new band' and actually listen to the record, you might be surprised at how good it is. That said, The Rapture will never escape its influences, in particular Entertainment by Gang of Four, Metal Box by Public Image Limited, early A Certain Ratio, and The Cure. Why anybody would want to ape Robert Smith's nasal whine is beyond me, but The Rapture's singer Luke Jenner has done just that. There's even a direct citation of The Cure's "One Hundred Years" found on The Rapture's "Olio," where Jenner yelps the phrase "Over and over and over again," just as Smith does. It's a little painful, but the DFA production of this remade Rapture track which appeared on their Gravity debut many moons back is a powderkeg post-punk groove laced with plenty of uptempo rhythms. It's certainly strong enough to transcend the vocals and comes close to the cocaine frenzy of "House of Jealous Lovers." As a whole Echoes succeeds through its dynamics, at times suffocating the band's sound in the pressure cooker of jagged guitar scratches, Jenner's voice, and heart-racing rhythms (i.e. "Killing"), at others releasing Jenner's voice as a ghastly diva amidst tubular bells and beatific Chicago house grooves (i.e. "I Need Your Love"), and at others donning the vastly different art rock poses of The Birthday Party and Radiohead (i.e. "Heaven" and "Open Up Your Heart" respectively).
The Rapture is a true amalgam of all things cool at the moment, and the cynic in me wants to call this bullshit for that exact reason; but it's just too good to receive that damnation from me!
This single has been making DJs of all stripes cream their pants since it was released earlier this year. "House of Jealous Lovers" (as well as its Morgan Geist remix version, also on this DFA 12") has been showing up at house nights, electro clubs, and post-punk DJ sets by hipster british video artists. It's the kind of song that is equally irrisitable to art punkers, San Francisco disco divas, discriminating indie kids and Brooklyn fashion victims. No, that's absolutely not a criticism-- it's an illustration of how, like their best funk-punk predecessors, the Rapture bridge the gap between rock and dance music undergrounds. Basically, this single kicks all kinds of asses all over the dance floor, whether it be located in a sweaty club or in your bedroom.
Six song ep from these NYC scene up-n-comers. Disco punk!
It's okay to booty shake again, indie rockers -- The Rapture have jumped back onto the dance floor. And it's about time -- their spectacular Echoes came out a full three years ago when trucker hats were still cool. The Rapture took their time with Pieces of the People We Love for good reason -- it's a suprisingly well-thought out sound shift.
It's still very them -- that is to say, '80s -- but much less Gang of Four (which is sooo 2003) and much more Hacienda. The whole album brings to mind sweaty dancing in a tropical climate, asses bumping each other in tight white pants, heavy rouge and panama hats -- all kept in check with some post-punk guitar assaults.
The Rapture have a unique talent for making our least favorite instruments sound good -- on their past albums, it was the infamous cowbell and on this one, it's the saxophone, which infuses the single "Get Myself Into It" with the kind of groove that inspires group handclaps and choreographed ensemble dance steps. Songs like "The Devil," showcase Luke Jenner's sexy falsetto, which takes some new chances with Brian Ferry trills, "Hungry Like the Wolf" pants and Haircut 100 "ai yi yi"s.
Unlike some of their NY contemporaries, the Rapture have always seemed like they're just having fun. Their live shows are infectious -- sincere and enthusiastic -- and that definitely comes across on this album. Very recommended for your next dance party.
The Rapture has been one of the most hyped bands to emerge in the past couple of years, embodying everything that Vice magazine wants in a band: cocaine, disco grooves, more cocaine, punk snarl, and a little more cocaine for good measure. Yet with all of this hype, there's only been the "House Of Jealous Lovers" single (admittedly a triumphant blast of A Certain Ratio post-punk fused with the distilled perfection of 20 years of disco) and this split with the Juan Maclean. The Rapture's "Killing" is nowhere nearly as epic as "House Of Jealous Lovers," but is a nervously ethereal punked-out groove driven by a pretty catchy one-note bass line and the Luke Jenner's claustrophobic whine which uncannily mimics Robert Smith of The Cure.
As is the case for "Killing," The Juan Maclean's track benefits greatly from the production skills of The DFA in crafting an angular funk track that updates the Liquid Liquid / ESG model of stripped down grooves with a much punchier sound.
Another disc we've been meaning to list for ages. The first release from Rashomon, the new project of Matt Thompson, former and founding member of UK prog combo Guapo. Rashomon incorporates much of what drove the music of Guapo, avant prog, psychedelic rock, soundtrack music, even metal into their sound.
But Thompson is approaching this new music from more of a filmic angle, the sounds much more cinematic, which should have been obvious from the name of the project, the record's title, and even the songs, each bearing the name of a classic film. Might be a bit pretentious in other hands, but this is the guy who founded Guapo, his prog cred is solid as a rock, as is his instrumental prowess, and it's obvious listening to these songs.
How the music here relates to the various films, is a bit tough for us to comment on since, we're embarrassed to say, we've seen only 2 of the 8 films referenced, but we're certainly excited to check the rest of them out now.
The opening track is a dark brooding convoluted space prog workout, channeling Goblin, as well as John Carpenter, into an intense creepscape, all minor key and darkly ominous, with long stretches of haunted house synth and wheezing harmoniums, the drums complex, skittering amidst a winding droneprog jam, heavy on the low-end and the tension building shimmer.
The second track is all smokey and jazzy, a minimal shuffle beneath some atonal scrabbly Derek Bailey like guitars, the track soon morphing into creepy sepia tone music box melodies.
Over the course of the rest of the record, as the tracks slip from film to film director to director, Bresson to Suzuki, Starewicz to Shindo, Branded To Kill, Lancelot Du Lac, Onibaba, The Mascot, the songs follow suit, shifting from mood to mood, sound to sound, soaring strings, ballroom jazz, bursts of acid fried synth blow outs, tribal almost African sounding drumming, gypsy folk violins, super intense spastic freaked out avant metal damage, deep shimmering drones, long stretches of creaking industrial ambience, haunting bagpipe like melodies, moody abstract drifts, gently strummed guitars clouds of cymbal shimmer, a constantly shifting world of sound, deep and layered, expansive and indeed, so cinematic.
Fans of Guapo will want this for sure, but anyone into far out soundtracks, experimental soundscapes or avant prog should definitely check this out as well.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!
Ooooh, in a perfect world if you were to look in the dictionary for "70s classic pop", you'd find a big photo of this band alongside their fellow '70s AM radio masters Bread and Electric Light Orchestra. Their heart-string pulling treasures such as "Go All The Way" and "Let's Pretend" recall the blissful pop orchestrations of the Beatles, Beach Boys and the Zombies. Actually we (Andee, Byram and Cup) noted that Eric Carmen's voice sorta resembles two Pauls' (very McCartney and less so Stanley), and come to think of it, their respective bands' personalities (i.e, Wings and Kiss) are definitely reflected in Raspberries music -- the glorious power pop sweetness and the ballsy power rock crunch. Raspberries' bright, often bubblegum-y hooks, swirling string arrangements and earnest multi-part vocal harmonies will totally appeal to your sappy soft side, leaving you weeping in a sunbeam. The liner notes include song-by-song commentary by the band members.
Emaciated. Fractious. Toxic. Violent. Raspberry Bulbs is the blackened punk outfit that Marco del Rio conceived after dissolving the cult black metal duo Bone Awl in 2010 or thereabouts. The raw-nerve energy of Raspberry Bulbs is a continuation of Bone Awl's brand of D-beat primitivism, but with some downright catchy riffs and pop-hook chops replacing the black metal. Over three albums, Raspberry Bulbs has perfected that formula - one that could be cranked out on a single worn-torn guitar and knuckle-busting drum kit. Even as Raspberry Bulbs has swollen from a sole venture for del Rio to a formidable five-piece, the riffs have a crust-punk urgency that's completely in the moment and full of wild-eyed rage.
Raspberry Bulb's 2013 album Deformed Worship caught many people off guard, coming out on the boutique publishing house of paranoiac electronica, Blackest Ever Black. Despite the aesthetic differences, the malaise and the claustrophobia and the tension of Black Rain, Cut Hands, and Raime find easy parallels in the jackbooted punk stomp of Raspberry Bulbs. It also makes a hell of a lot of sense that Dominic Fernow / Prurient released the first (and dare we say, slightly undercooked) first album from Raspberry Bulbs. So there's the connection for you. Privacy picks up right where Deformed Worship left off as an antisocial, bad-seed punk brother to Christian Death's Only Theatre Of Pain, starving the skeletal riffs into a acid batteries of ravenous angst and eschewing the goth miserablism in favor of a throat-ripped snarl. The guitars sound like they've been strung with razor wire and hot-wired into Crime's pawn shop amps. With the multiplicity of guitarists, Raspberry Bulbs just sounds louder, snottier, and meaner. Fucking awesome, we gotta say.
The Ektro label does it again. Another rad reissue, this the debut album from legendary eighties NYC noise rockers Rat At Rat R, originally released in 1985 and pretty much impossible to find since. It somehow sounds right at home on Ektro, and even TWENTY SEVEN YEARS later, this stuff sounds so bad ass. Think Cop Shoot Cop, Circle X, Swans, Pussy Galore, Live Skull, Sonic Youth, these guys were born of that same scene, but their sound is definitely all their own. Gloomy and gothic, noisy and chaotic, the drumming INSANE, wild and splattery and relentless, the guitars angular and jagged, the bass thick and buzzy, the vocals a snarly dramatic croon, the band capable of switching from wild tribal noisy freakouts, to churning mathy noise rock crush, to an almost gloom pop, to seriously heavy almost metallic bombast, lots of the songs reminding us at times of the Wipers, or Comsat Angels, or other purveyors of gloomy rock, and of course all the other bands of the time these guys shared stages with (and probably drugs, or at least rehearsal spaces).
The gloomy gothy vibe definitely has a sort of death rock thing going on, reminding us also of the stuff that was going on around the same time on the other coast, the Scream club, Abecedarians, Kommunity FK, but a way heavier noiser version of that, lurching, lumbering, grinding heaviness, tribal drumming, clouds of feedback, strange percussion, tangled melodies, and actual songs, these were not just blasts of noisiness, Rat At Rat R definitely had a knack for dark brooding songcraft, the fact that they chose to render the resulting songs in wild squalls of noise rock pummel and swirly psychedelic gloomines, only made it that much cooler. Reissue contender of the year for SURE.
Sceptre Hole was our first exposure to the the awesomely named Rat Columns, aka David West, who has quite the Aussie garage rock resume, which includes stints as a touring guitarist for Total Control, he played in the late great unsung post punk weirdos Rank/Xerox, and has played with the guys from Taco Leg, among a whole bunch of others. So we were of course expecting Rat Columns to sound a little like that, sort of Total Control style garage punk, maybe with a hint of new waviness, but instead, the sound is much closer to a warped sort of lo-fi indie rock jangle/power pop, which on Sceptre Hole is made even cooler/better by the addition of Matt Bleyle, of aQ faves Violent Change and Sopors. And anyone whose been digging either of those outfits' recent records (or heck even SF pop geniuses the Ovens) will find a LOT to dig here.
After an awesomely misleading opener, a creepy druggy dirge, all syrupy guitar buzz, slow drum plod and hushed haunted vocals, the record explodes into some serious kick ass poppiness, bashed drums, big jangle, lots of fuzz and buzz, hooks like crazy, the vocals a wispy croon, crunchy indie/power pop that's tough to beat. And again, we were sort of expecting the rest of the record to play out similarly, but there's lots of different sounds happening here. "Flowers" is more dour, a little bit Joy Division-y, with some weird arrangements, and cool gloomy chord progressions, "Nearsighted" too is a gorgeous slab of eighties beholden new wave pop, while "Dying Day" is super distorted shoegaze bliss out, all blurred buzz and buried vocals. There are plenty of experimental fragments, droney and darkly psychedelic, plenty of acoustic guitars too, all integrated seamlessly into a procession of CRAZY catchy power pop jams, and practically perfect blasts of fuzzy indie pop jangle. It definitely sounds like a record from the past, like this could maybe be some obscure reissue, but it's got a modern feel as well, and the music touches on so many of our favorite sounds, it's pretty tough to resist. But then why would you even try? A new favorite for sure. And absolutely recommended for fans of warped weirdo pop, and classic jangle and fuzz.
Includes a download code too!!
Album number two from this New York duo picks up right where their refreshing debut left off. Bringing all sorts of seemingly unrelated sounds and ideas perfectly together. The danceability of electronica, the organic emotion of guitars and the limitless possibilities of what can happen when you re-imagine different ways to create melody. With Classics they continue to create a world that makes you feel like you are some powerful character in a video game that you just want to play forever. There is something so endearing and instantly likable about this group. The way they make fun sounding music without being cheesy or gimmicky. The way they force you to use your imagination, it's almost impossible to hear these songs and not create elaborate shapes, colors and stories in your mind. Classics is the kind of record that can break through to even the most jaded hipster as well as hitting the spot for those who are always ready to have a good time. So fresh and fun!
New York's guitar/synth duo Ratatat hits us hard with another hefty dose of instrumental electronica, the follow up to 2006's summer jam Classics. Very similar to that album indeed. Not veering far from their usual sound, catchy synth and guitar melodies woven within a bright world of danceable sounds and beats, LP3 is a sure pleaser for any fans of radiant electronica. As familiar as LP3 sounds, there are glimpes of a more refined Ratatat here. Accoustic, steel-stringed intruments and eastern rythyms bring some spice to the album. Charming and vivid, you can't help but wonder if this is the music an arcade would make if it came to life after closing. These guys really conjure a nice balance between pop sensibility and musicianship. In a genre so heavily reliant on machines and buttons, they create a sound so organic and sincere.
Ever since they first hit the scene almost six years ago, Ratatat have consistently brought such a fun and refreshing sound to the table. Using guitars and electronics to make crunchy and catchy instrumental jams with nods to their love of hip-hop production and electronic dance music, yet all delivered in a very stripped down DIY fashion. Their forth album finds these Brooklyn boys sounding as great as ever, which makes sense, as much of this material was culled from the same sessions that produced their last record. It's cool how these guys have somehow created such a unique and instantly recognizable sound, as the moment you hear one of these songs you know without a doubt that it's Ratatat. The way they bring a left-of-center vibe to totally catchy almost top 40/hip-hop sounding beats, transforming them into the perfect jams to just blast crazy loud in the summertime. LP4 again shows off Ratatat's special ability to conjure totally catchy beats and melodies that flow with so much color and warmth. We love it.
The cover makes this look like it's gonna be some kinda indie-boys making rawk, sorta Strokes-y or maybe Champsy or something like that. But actually it's fairly mellow electronic music. Yawn.
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
That's right, it's that time again, another killer blast from the past courtesy of everybody's new favorite all vinyl reissue label, Mississippi! This time it's record number two from Portland's new wave garage punk trio the Rats, maybe better known as the band of Fred and Toody Cole who would of course go on to form the much loved Dead Moon.
Intermittent Signals offers up more of the same synth laced punk rock garage rock stomp found on their s/t debut, maybe a wee bit tighter and more polished, but still heavy and snotty and snarly and swaggery, a definite old AC/DC vibe happening too, killer riffing, tons of hooks, wild drumming, Fred's drawled punk rock vox, Toody's more frenetic yelp, all crammed into short sharp blasts of hooky catchy punk rock power pop genius.
Original drummer Rod Rat guests on a couple tracks, he ended up committing suicide not long afterwards, drummer Sam Henry would go on to drum for the Wipers as well as Napalm Beach. Another essential slice of PDX punk rock history.
And as with all Mississippi releases, lovingly packaged, super thick jackets, nice heavy vinyl, and this one even includes a flyer advertising a pretty kick ass show, the Rats and The Fastbacks! Admission price: only TWO BUCKS!!!
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
Just wanted to get the attention of the growing legion of Mississippi Records obsessives, as this week we have not one, not two, but THREE new releases from this PDX based all vinyl, mostly reissue label.
All three of the new Mississippi releases are of a more punk rock, post punk bent, abandoning temporarily the blues, gospel, and African reissues that defined the label in the early days. With every release, they get harder and harder to pigeonhole, which is always the mark of a great label.
The Rats might not be an immediately recognizable name to most folks, but what about Rats frontman Fred Cole? Ring any bells? Well, in case you hadn't figured it out already, Cole would later go on to front the legendary Dead Moon, and more recently, the Pierced Arrows, alongside his wife Toody, credited in the Rats as T.Rat. A serious slice of Portland punk rock history for sure.
The Rats existed for only a few years in the early eighties and spit out some awesome organ drenched punky garage rock stomp, liberally laced with some new wave and power pop. The vocals high and wavery, Cole sharing vocal duties with his female bandmate, the choruses shouted singalongs, the drums a simple pound, the guitars swinging from almost twang to indie jangle to punk rock crunch, the songs wreathed in Fuzztone style organs, the vibe wild and wooly, not hard to imagine these guys RULING every sweaty basement and dive club in Portland.
Thick black and white sleeve, with just the most minimal liner notes...
Total '80s gloss thing going on (Andee thought it sounded like The Fixx!) here from these two members of Circle, sorta Talking Heads / Sparks / Oingo Bongo -ish... maybe even Barnes and Barnes? As as Christine put it: "fucked up aerobics music" with "Finnish goth" vocals! Or imagine Circle in tuxes and feathers, with Mika Ratto singing in a Popeye voice. Weird!
As you might have guessed from the review of Ektroverde's "Ukkossalama" above/elsewhere, and will shortly learn from this review, we have to say: the two new Ektro label releases aren't -exactly- our absolute favorites from our fine Finnish friend Jussi and his accomplices. Then again, that didn't stop Andee and Allan from buying copies! But Circle fans should know what they're getting into here: with the Ratto Ja Lehtisalo album it's a stab at vocal and instrumental synth pop (with lyrics like "heyheyshalalalalala") that features lots of Circle-lite spacerock synth-work. Cheesy '80s synths that is. Maybe they can't find cooler ones at the Finnish flea markets? Or maybe this is some sort of obscure and/or drunken joke. Not that it's *bad* or anything, we just don't understand, and would like it better if it wasn't so...smooth. It's very poppy and mild, with gentle psychedelic guitar leads spun out by Aki Peltonen (otherwise, as you might guess from the name, this is the duo of Circle bassist Jussi Lehtisalo and Circle keyboardist/vocalist Mika Ratto, here also playing drums). But fans of Circle's Neu!-inspired rhythms looking for a pleasant, sunshiney listen may well enjoy. It's nothing if not nice. So, check out the sound samples, see what you think...
Remember Kopernikus Hortoilee Nakinkengassa? (Ahhh, like it was only yesterday...) The first Ratto Ja Lehtisalo cd? Well here's Ratto Ja Lethisalo cd numba two, Pari Lepakkoa Transylvaniassa! The duo of Mika Ratto and Jussi Lehtisalo, both integral members of AQ faves Circle, along with guitarist Aki Peltonen, return with another rather pretty pop album that's also rather weird -- of course, what else would you expect from these Finnish freaks? Like its predecessor, this one is kinda light-n-mild, and mysteriously goofy. It reminds us a bit of some modern Czech folk stuff, actually, a la Vladimir Vaclavek (as if that's any help to you!). Guitars and harmonica and drums and whistling and whispering and even a typewriter are worked into these songs' arrangements, and there's at least one track that's got that trademark Circle sorta groove, with Neu!-ish rhythms and krautrocky synth. But it's "the lighter side of" Circle for sure. And the vocals are a major thing here. There's lots of voice-as-instrument playfulness, with lyrics, sometimes in English, often along the lines of "dum de dum" or even "c'mon bay-bee", the repetition of such phrases calling their actual meaning (or meaninglessness) into question.
Is it a nonsense album? Actually we suspect that there's may be a story being told, as certain musical themes seem to carry through the whole disc, giving it the sense of a song-cycle. Or perhaps it's the album's foresty fairytale cartoon artwork that's making us imagine that Uncle Jussi and Uncle Mika are telling us some children's fable. It's a little corny, definitely cute or even cutesy (as per that artwork), and again we're left wondering just what it's all about... Yeah, it's weird, almost in a "why are they doing this?" sorta way, but a lot of it is also quite beautiful.
Underground Finnish freak jazz craziness.
After the subtle excursion into heroin house on his "Anti" album for Hefty, T. Raumschmiere returns to his bread and butter with "Radio Blackout" an album of shuffletime techno. Alongside Electronicat and the "Schaffelfieber" compilations on Kompakt, Raumschmiere encapsulates the single minded stupidity of testosterone with a comical b-movie approach to techno that revists the flamboyance of Gary Glitter, The Sweet, and T. Rex. Throughout "Radio Blackout," there are a handful of megawatt stompers that crank out the corroded synth lines emulating fist-pumpin' anthemic guitar licks and shuffling post-glam-rock rhythms. As triumphant and huge as the cuts 'The Game Is Not Over' (which features Miss Kitten barking out the vocals to the 200 mile per hour rhythms) and 'Monstertruckdriver' are, it's easy to overlook how good the rest of the album is. Not content to issue a collection of singles or single worthy material, T. Raumschmiere really did attempt to locate his crunching numbers against low-slung grooves and crackled breakbeats to craft an album. These slower numbers don't appear as the ambient filler, but as the necessary breathing room required before rocketing through more of those tremendous carcrash rhythms. A great album!
I totally loved the first Raveonettes record. An ep of slightly sinister garage rock bittersweetness, buried under a thick blanket of Jesus And Mary Chain grit and fuzz and swathed in heaps of Galaxie 500 reverby shimmer. But part of what I liked was that it was creepy and mean and pretty surprising for a major label/MTV record to evoke such a misanthropic vibe. On first listen, Chain Gang Of Love, the Raveonettes first full length, sounded downright cheerful. Gone is the gloom and doom of their debut. To the point where I decided right then and there that I didn't like it. But on repeated listens, it really started to grow on me, as long as I approached it as a completely different beast. Once I could get over the lack of ominous minor key creepiness, it revealed itself as just a really great pop record. Like a weird mix of fifties rock and roll, Beach Boys surf rock, and lo fi grungy garage, but with stretched out Velvets song structures and that fuzzy haze that infuses everything with a grainy, washed out glow. Not sure I like it as much as the ep, but I sure have been listening to it a lot lately, which I suppose says it all.
Sometimes we joke that a review really could be one line and describe the music perfectly and succinctly. If we were to try that with the latest from The Raveonettes it would read: If you like great pop you will love this record! But of course, where's the fun in that?? We've definitely never been accused for being at a loss for words when it comes to records we love, so here comes some total gushing!
Last year The Raveonettes revealed a much more raw and fuzzy side to their sound making one of the best Jesus & Mary Chain influenced records in a sea of falling-way-short wannabes. Under all of the fuzz and distortion, it was still clear that The Raveonettes are first and foremost great songwriters who know how to create the kind of hooks and melodies that stay stuck in your head for ages. With In And Out Of Control, the fuzz and feedback have been dialed back, but those golden pop chops are flexed with even greater potency as they take their love of girl groups, and that true knack for conjuring timeless cool pop, creating their own special sound, with such ease and confidence, a sizzling sultry shimmery pop that we can't get enough of. It's kind of puzzling to us why this band hasn't gotten even more popular, cuz in our book The Raveonettes have definitely reached a total apex in creating some of the best modern pop we've heard in ages!
Past outings by The Raveonettes have left some of us here only with brief moments and a handful of songs that we really liked, but never quite managed an entire album to fall in love with (although we loved the first ep!). That changes on Lust Lust Lust, as The Raveonettes have found a way to bring their love of garage pop, girl groups, intoxicating reverb, and just the right mix of bubble-gum yumminess vs. those equally delicious moments of wall of sound distortion. In fact this is making quite a great companion to the latest Magnetic Fields album Distortion that we are still so in love with.
Of course The Raveonettes love of Jesus & Mary Chain and the Velvet Underground is still worn on their sleeves with pride but now they have delivered a great album of their own to show that they don't just look and sound cool, but they actually have the great songs to back it up. So good!
Where last year's Raven In The Grave found Danish boy/girl shoegaze fuzz poppers the Raveonettes moving in a distinctly darker direction, the sound much grittier than past efforts, Observator is pretty much the exact opposite, the sound warm and sun dappled, jangly and seriously summery. Opener "Young And Cold" is a lush slab of gauzy dream pop, that sounds more Best Coast than Jesus And Mary Chain, their sixties girl group worship in full swing, the song laced with piano and acoustic guitar, drifting in clouds of echo drenched fuzz, the boy/girl harmonies divine and dreamy. But even amidst all this warm shimmer and washed out bliss pop, the band do still indulge in their knack for melancholia, wrapping minor key melodies around crunchy drum machines, or stretching out keening tones into blurry sonic swells, the vocals languorous and laid back. "Observations" is a bit of a brooder, especially following that opening track, but it still manages to glow with a dark energy, which leads directly into "Curse The Night", which is a dead ringer for Blonde Redhead, all wavery female vocals over spidery guitar melodies, simple propulsive drumming, and a gorgeous fuzzy chorus, druggy and divine.
And so it goes, the band still master popsmiths ("The Enemy" will be stuck in your head for ages), crafting warm fuzzy hook filled gems, with just enough emotion and pathos to keep things interesting. And be sure you make it to the closer, "Till The End", which is a crazy catchy, guitar heavy slab of fuzzed out indie rock bliss, heavy on the shoegaze, and maybe the best track here!
The Danish duo shrug off the hype machine and produce an album that's enjoyable in ways far different from their previous garage-y albums The Chain Gang Of Love and Whip It On. Surprisingly not brash nor rebellious in the least, Pretty In Black is dreamy almost to the point of being downright tame! This time their retro feel draws even more inspiration from '60s American girl group Phil Spector productions. In fact, many of the songs sound as though the band took melodies of old classics and build new Raveonettes' songs around them. While they do offer a couple of actual cover versions ("My Boyfriend's Back" and "Be My Baby"), familiar strains of other old tunes surface in songs that are definitely not covers. Tell me I'm not crazy, do you not hear New Order's "Blue Monday" in the song "You Say You Lie"? Ditto for the following "Ode To L.A." which bears more than a passing resemblance to the abovementioned Ronettes' song, and not just because of the presence of special guest vocalist Ronnie Spector! For additional cool points tho' they got a couple of other rock icons Martin Rev and Moe Tucker on board (to supply some programmed beats and drumming respectively) however their contributions are much less apparent. Anyways, some might find the above concerns a bit problematic, while others might relish in the album's pop nostalgia. We're finding ourselves leaning way more towards the latter.
The Raveonettes have been on fire over the last several years. Their last two albums remain two of our favorite pop albums to come out last decade, and with their latest, Raven In The Grave, they've delivered another breathtaking and seductive set of songs that we've already been playing nonstop. This album finds the band exploring a grittier and darker vibe that really suits them surprisingly well. The songs are both dirgy and sexy, mysterious and catchy. Before the latest wave of girl group inspired lo-fi pop bands hit the scene, The Raveonettes laid some nice groundwork and offered up a blueprint for how to take those influences and incorporate them into a very modern sound. This album even has some really nice shoegaze undertones, that matched with the grit and grim and ominously dark production make for such a seductive listening experience. Like sleepwalking through deserted city streets on an extra dark night, these are perfect songs for dazed and glazed fever dreams. Highly recommended.
At first I was inclined to hate this band. I see 'em on MTV all the time (the video is actually pretty great), they're a two piece, as is the current fashion, boy and girl duo ala the White Stripes, and they have been saddled with that dreaded (and offensive) NEXT-BIG-THING tag. But I have to say, this record kicks serious ass! It's got some of that garage rock thing going on, which is obviously part of their next big thing mass appeal. Hives, Strokes, White Stripes and all that. But this record is so much weirder and cooler. Really gloomy sounding, kind of like a more punk Velvet Underground, with occasional squalls of white-noise guitar and super noisy freakouts. It's kind of hard to put my finger on just what makes this record so appealing. The songs are catchy, the spare instrumentation still manages to kick out the jams, and the overall sound has this weird horror movie / B-movie vibe. It's really exciting to see a band this grungy and muddy and gloomy and cool hit the big time. It may be a guilty pleasure, but at this point we have so many, why even keep track?
This raw Swedish progg-punk band, whose name, delightfully enough, means "fox piss" in English, got their start back in 1970, a bunch of teenagers drinking beer and jamming and doing the occasional Black Sabbath or Jimi Hendrix cover. As they got a little more serious, they wrote more original songs, but jamming remained a big thing with them. They were part of the Swedish underground music scene in the '70s, playing the summer free festivals and hanging with freaks and anarchists and so forth... also they were friends with such better known bands as Guidbrallan and Samla Mammas Manna.
It wasn't until 1976, not long after they'd started calling themselves Ravjunk (named after some terrible coffee the drummer had been confronted with one morning), that they got around to recording an album, Uppsala Stadshotell Brinner, made on the cheap in their own, primitive but functional home-built DIY recording studio. They pressed up copies of the record themselves, and distributed it as best they could, indeed getting some good reviews and radio-play. It was to be Ravjunk's only album, but they did follow it over the final years of the decade, before their dissolution in 1981, with a number of 7" singles (not included here), the band apparently pursuing more and more of a heavy punk rock sound... which you can already hear hinted at on their album.
The album itself, is a heavily fuzzed out mix of bluesy jams, Hendrixian guitar wailing, krautrockish drone, and plenty of garagey proto-punk attitude, all recorded mostly live, with a raw, lo-fi sound... all the more charming for it, really. It's all here on this deluxe digipack double disc cd reissue, along with unreleased material from the Uppsala Stadshotell Brinner sessions, and recently discovered demos and even rawer live tapes, the complete recorded works of Ravjunk circa 1976-1977. It would have been cool if they had included Ravjunk's 1978-1980 singles too (one of which was banned in Sweden for political reasons), but there is -plenty- of music here, almost two hours of it, from the gruff blues punk of "Hey Little Girl" (something you might imagine the Baby Grandmothers would sound like if they'd heard Motorhead) to the brooding title track to the calm and blissful spacerock of "Nasten (Den Tysta Skogen)"... the krautrock of Can and the like is definitely an influence on these discs' many sinuous, rhythmic instrumental psych excursions like "Vi Ses (Vid Taj Mahal)". Other obvious inspirations include the Stooges, Trad Gras Och Stenar, Cream, the Groundhogs, Hawkwind, etc... the MySpace page for the (recently reunited) band even cites T2, Joakim Skogsberg and Magma! If you're into gritty '70s underground sounds, then this could definitely be your cup of fox's piss! Perhaps grittiest on the non-album material included, such as the 21 minute endless jamming rant and rave of the bonus track that ends disc one, "Naturbarn". (Meanwhile, the second disc ends with a 10+ minute live garage-psych punk stomper, a version of David Peel and the Lower East Side's "Who Killed Brian Jones? Was It One Of The Rolling Stones?"). Very cool.
Finally, the second and final (?) installment in the epic musical/fictional world that is Ray's Vast Basement. Smoke-y and murky song-stories following the life and times of the residents of Drakeville. Dreamy and surreal, By A River Burning Blue is equal parts Tom Waits, Sparklehorse, classic Nebraska-era Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Butch Hancock, Dire Straits, etc. Slow melancholy classic sounding rock songs, lushly produced, intimate and hushed. Sweet and lovely. For those new to RVB, the songs all chronicle the 100,000,000-year history of Ray's Basement, a fictional cave in the town of Drakesville about which all the songs are written. The complete set is also now available with the debut cd, the new cd as well as a songbook and set of beautifully printed cards.
One of the most refreshing listens we've heard in a long long while, Ray's Vast Basement is a collection of perfectly-crafted, honest-to-gosh SONGS written in the tradition of gravelly-voiced observers-of-life such as John Prine, Bob Dylan, and especially Butch Hancock, one of the four founding members of Austin's legendary Flatlanders (who also spawned Joe Ely and Jimmie Dale Gilmore). Oh, and Andee thinks they sound a little like the Dire Straits. "On the Banks of Time" is a fully formed aesthetic triumph.
PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS REGULAR VERSION OF THIS CD, WITHOUT THE ADDED EXTRAS: LYRIC BOOKLET, TIMELINE CARDS ETC. WE CAN GET THE DELUXE VERSION FOR YOU. THE COST IS $25.The lyric booklet and stunningly executed, heartbreakingly poignant series of 60 cards detailing the 100,000,000-year history of Ray's Basement, the fictional cave in the town about which all the songs are written (which were included with the original pressing) are now available for purchase at the band's website.
One of the most refreshing listens we've heard in a long long while, Ray's Vast Basement is a collection of perfectly-crafted, honest-to-gosh SONGS written in the tradition of gravelly-voiced observers-of-life such as John Prine, Bob Dylan, and especially Butch Hancock, one of the four founding members of Austin's legendary Flatlanders (who also spawned Joe Ely and Jimmie Dale Gilmore). Oh, and Andee thinks they sound a little like the Dire Straits. "On the Banks of Time" is a fully formed aesthetic triumph.
The lyric booklet and stunningly executed, heartbreakingly poignant series of 60 cards detailing the 100,000,000-year history of Ray's Basement, the fictional cave in the town about which all the songs are written (which were included with the original pressing) are available in this deluxe version.
PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS THE DELUXE VERSION OF THIS CD, WITH ALL THE ADDED EXTRAS: LYRIC BOOKLET, TIMELINE CARDS ETC. WE CAN GET THE REGULAR VERSION FOR YOU, TOO. THE COST IS $12.98.
Have the usually completely d.i.y. folks Ray's Vast Basement thrown open their secret subterranean workshop to welcome other like-minded burgeoning music makin' folks? Sure seems so, and the results are nothing short of wonderful. The RBV sound is so burnished, earthy and rustic that if they do indeed have a basement, then we'd imagine it's nestled amid the roots of a great redwood instead of beneath a building somewhere here in the city. Their new album comes to us by way of young Bay Area indie label Howell's Transmitter which is home to the likes of Michael Zapruder's Rain Of Frogs, Modular Set and Black Fiction. It's a perfect fit. The music on Starvation Under Orange Trees grew forth from a soundtrack composed by band leader Jon Bernson for the Actors Theatre Of San Francisco. Each song is inspired by one of the literary works of John Steinbeck -- Of Mice And Men, Grapes Of Wrath, Cannery Row, East Of Eden, and Tortilla Flats. All are infused with an overcast gravity befitting Steinbeck's pervading themes of common man hardships. Bernson is joined by guests Tim Cohen (Black Fiction), Sean Coleman (Kelley Stoltz), Larry Crane (Tape Op Magazine), Enzo Garcia (Jolie Holland), Matt Greenberg (Charles Atlas), Nate Query (The Decemberists), and Michael Zapruder (Michael Zapruder's Rain Of Frogs). Together they strike a balance between their old intimate, crafty charms and some newer, more ambitious compositions. Recommended!
This is it! The complete Drakesville mythology. Those of you who have the first Ray's Vast Basement album know just what we're talking about. For those of you who don't, the Mythology of Drakesville has been in the works for nine years, an interwoven, fictional culture of music, stories, history and imagery, all revolving around an imagined cave called Ray's Vast Basement and the eccentric residents of the northern California town of Drakesville. The story is told via the two RVB cds as well as a gorgeously printed songbook and set of cards. Here's what we had to say about the first RVB album:
One of the most refreshing listens we've heard in a long long while, Ray's Vast Basement is a collection of perfectly-crafted, honest-to-gosh SONGS written in the tradition of gravelly-voiced observers-of-life such as John Prine, Bob Dylan, and especially Butch Hancock, one of the four founding members of Austin's legendary Flatlanders (who also spawned Joe Ely and Jimmie Dale Gilmore). Oh, and Andee thinks they sound a little like the Dire Straits. "On the Banks of Time" is a fully formed aesthetic triumph. There's also a lyric booklet and stunningly executed, heartbreakingly poignant series of 60 cards detailing the 100,000,000-year history of Ray's Basement, the fictional cave in the town about which all the songs are written.
And elsewhere on this list you'll find the review of the second album and final piece of the Drakesville story:
Finally, the second and final (?) installment in the epic musical/fictional world that is Ray's Vast Basement. Smoke-y and murky song-stories following the life and times of the residents of Drakeville. Dreamy and surreal, By A River Burning Blue is equal parts Tom Waits, Sparklehorse, classic Nebraska-era Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Butch Hancock, Dire Straits, etc. Slow melancholy classic sounding rock songs, lushly produced, intimate and hushed. Sweet and lovely. For those new to RVB, the songs all chronicle the 100,000,000-year history of Ray's Basement, a fictional cave in the town of Drakesville about which all the songs are written.
This set includes both cds, the songbook and the printed cards. So cool!
We discovered this strange split lp via the always amazing WFMU in New Jersey, a freeform radio station we've collaborated with on numerous occasions in the past, most notably we shared a couple showcases at the South By Southwest music conference in Texas, which by the way was no coincidence, and it wasn't just because we're pals, it's also because WFMU constantly and consistently play the most amazing shit. We think we know about the craziest, most underground music, and then we tune into WFMU and routinely have our minds blown. And yeah, we blow their minds once in a while too, with stuff we recommend on our list, but pretty much every time we listen to WFMU, we have to have a pen and paper handy to jot down all the amazing things we need to track down, which happened recently with this here record. One track was all it took to know this was some serious aQ-worthy weirdness, dark and psychedelic, tripped out and bizarre and beautiful, on a label we love too, with a background story as cool and weird as the music itself. So we got as many as we could (it's limited to 300 copies!) but odds are they won't last, so grab one of these quick cuz once we describe it to you, we're pretty sure you're not gonna be able to live without one...
The oddly named Razen are a duo, who grew tired of the traditional rock band instrumentation, and decided to each pick a new instrument, one they had no idea how to play, which is how they ended up with a detuned santoor (like an Indian hammered dulcimer) and a drumset assembled from metal plates. And thus was born Razen. They've expanded their instrumentation to include still more instruments they don't know how to play (bouzouki, keyboards, horns), and have invited a handful of guests to contribute an even more impressive and bizarre arsenal of noisemakers, including bagpipe, chalumeau (a classical style recorder), sopranino (one of the smallest horns in the saxophone family), bass recorder, duduk (a Middle Eastern woodwind) and shenai (a North Indian oboe), and this is the result: a glorious, mysterious take on world music, dark and haunting, heavily percussive, cinematic, abstract and dramatic, the label mentions Moondog and Bohren & Der Club Of Gore and David Lynch, but we also hear some Sun City Girls, some martial industrial music, while at the same time the sounds dip into African folk music and Indian style ragas, all rife with drone and buzz and strange melodies, lush textures, frantic rhythms, all filtered through Razen's distinctively non-world music perspective.
"Rammelaargong" begins with hypnotic tribal hand drumming, deep low end thrum, fluttering woodwinds, and haunting steel string shimmer, eventually building to a frenzy of howling horns, and frantic drumming, infused with plenty of drone and buzz, and a strangely motorik rhythmic pulse, with everything eventually dropping out, finishing off with a brief flurry of lo-fi percussion.
"Razen Zand" begins with a thick undulating raga like drone, rendered in glitchy electronics, before the drums kick in, and then the horns, and the sound is almost like a marching band playing some abstract African folk music, the drums and horns locked into staccato bursts, while in between those bursts, wild melodies are unfurled from buzzing steel strings, the sound manages to be epic, and majestic and HEAVY. "Richel" is all low end blur, and woozy snake charmer melodies, shimmery spidery buzzing strings, a sun baked sprawling raga-like drift, the vibe dark and emotional and intense, very cinematic, wild fluttering woodwinds flit above that mournful snake charmer cry, the track laced with sharp percussive strikes, and thick low end thrums, hummed chantlike vox, and swirls of metallic shimmer. "Rode Hond" too, begins with a deep metallic buzz, layered and lush, and those exotic intense snake charmer melodies, the percussion, spare and skeletal, but propulsive and rhythmic, the song growing more and more intense the drums more frenetic, the horns and woodwinds more tense, soaring and singing out, all the instruments slipping into a hypnotic groove, that we could listen to forever, and fades out way too soon.
So incredible, it's only 4 tracks, but they're so intense and detailed and blossom a little more with every listen, you might as well set your turntable to send the needle right back to the beginning, and let it play all night.
And that's just the Razen side. The flipside is taken up entirely by a single track from Sheldon Siegel, which is not in fact a person, but rather a group, a Belgian abstract free jazz outfit, made up of cello, drums, percussion, sax, vocals, tapes and music box, and don't be expecting regular old free jazz, they are after all teamed up with Razen for a reason, and not because they're both from Belgium, it's more likely, that like Razen, the guys in Sheldon Siegel approach their music similarly, looking to subvert the old, and invent something new, to create a music that while made up of free jazz elements, is more than free jazz, and what they've come up with does definitely strike out from the confines of free jazz, sure, a quick listen will sound like free jazz on the surface, but as you dig deeper, and the song develops, thick grinding cello drones ground the sound, a thick undulating textural buzz, underpinning, stuttery skronk and little flurries of percussive skitter, beneath clouds of cymbal shimmer. Over the course of the side's 25 minutes, the group shift gears dramatically, slipping into a seriously twisted dirge, with the horns super processed and sounding almost electronic, blissing out, and letting blurts of feedback and spurts of rhythmic sputter spar over mournful cello melodies, sounding super dramatic and intense, after some bursts of almost traditional sounding avant jazz, the sound winds way down, the tapes warble and whir, the other instruments are muffled and muted, a strange landscape of scrapes and thumps, of fragmented melodies, and abstract ambience, before finishing off with a strange stretch of stumbling loping jazz flecked skitter, and swirling droned out weirdness.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!!
Perhaps in homage to fellow Italian Maurizio Bianchi recording under the acronym MB, Roberto Drago took to calling himself himself RD. Drago and his brother Giancarlo had recorded as The Tapes throughout the '80s, releasing a series of impressive minimal wave / cold industrial rhythmic recordings, suitably on cassette. Treni Lirici is a collection of tracks dating from 86-89, all of we are assuming were self-released in small editions back in the day. The electronic emanations of uneasy synth drone and anxious sequencing follow in line with what The Tapes were up to, affixing such forms to a rhythmic spine, amounting to a claustrophobic set of dystopian proto-techno recordings that remind us more of the revered Japanese efforts that dot the enigmatic Vanity Records imprint, as well as Nord or even the synth hymns of Grim. A really amazing archival find!
Philosopher's Walk is like a sonic dissertation using sound structures based on filter improvs and field recordings? Intellectual and academic, musically dense and seemingly clinical. But closer examination and further listens reveal a subtly deft use of layers and layers of filters and digital processing, occasionally broken into by piano, drums, organs, found sounds and synthesizers, creating a gorgeously creepy, haunting alien ambientscape. Fans of Godspeed and A Silver Mt. Zion will not be disappointed.
Re is a duo featuring one of the founders of Constellation Records, who -- it must be stated -- is not a member of their flagship ensemble Godspeed You Black Emperor. Rather, this is the most electronically based outfit to emerge from the Canadian collective. The very slow looping sounds and the occasional clatter of distant mechanized beats has drawn Re to compare themselves to Aphex Twin. Yes, this is wishful thinking. Not to say that this isn't an OK album, but that "Mnant" (with its songs entitled "Scue," "Cipe," "Buke," "Volve," "Ject," "Gulate") is a bit more clever in its semi-ambient electronics than memorable.
Primitive proto-metal reissue alert here, folks! Reaction were a heavy, hairy power trio bashing out boogie-blooze-based hard rock. Technically, Reaction could be considered a krautrock group, we suppose, since they did hail from Germany and this rare record originally came out back in 1972. But it's nothing cosmic nor proggy that's for sure. No flutes, no synths, no motorik beats. Instead it's just loud and lumbering and riffy and mean (well with a bit of poppiness at times, those lumbering riffs being fairly catchy after all).
Yer basic, raw, fuzz filled rockin' good times, the nine tracks here taking the likes of Cream and Cactus to the next (lower) level, more wasted, more fuzz, more cowbell! (There's plenty of the latter on the awesomely titled "The Funeral March Of A Marionette".)
Some of the obscure and not-so-sophisticated heavy psych acts of era we'd compare 'em to include Moses, Blues Addicts, Road, Toad, and Speed Glue & Shinki, plus fellow "krautrockers" like Tiger B. Smith, Blackwater Park, and Hairy Chapter (their first album Eyes anyway). Like we said, in the vein of Cream and Cactus, moreso than Can or Kraftwerk! Nothin' wrong with that though, when you wanna rock.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Hand painted, 30 minutes, lo-fi, member of Sword and Sandals.
The return of these dreamy jangle poppers finds them sounding even dreamier, their retro sound drifting ever further back to the days of Sarah Records, all crystalline guitar shimmer, swirling softly psychedelic jangle, reminding us once again of the late great Field Mice. And with every record, their 4-track home recorded beginnings seem further and further away, the group's polished pop landing positioning them closer to say, Belle And Sebastien, than Ducktails or Woods or any of their other former label mates.
The opener "Had To Hear" might be the darkest (and maybe best) of the bunch, adding just a bit of darkness, some sonic pathos, that had us thinking of Scud Mountain Boys (or the Pernice Brothers), the above mentioned Woods, and for some reason pre-New Pornographers power poppers Zumpano, but it's a gem, all minor key melodies and a verse as catchy as its chorus. That said, it's still plenty ethereal and shimmery and dream poppy. But not nearly as much as the rest of the record, which dials back most of that shadow leaving just pure, lush, shimmer-pop dreaminess. Some folks around aQ are finding Real Estate a bit too twee for their taste, but really, if you love the Field Mice, Belle And Sebastien, Heavenly Beat, the Go-Betweens, the Pastels and the like, this will definitely be right up your alley.
As much as we love distorto noise rock, and heavy crunchy blown out garage rock, and swirling FX heavy lysergic pop, we also love dreamy, shimmery, jangly sunshiney pop, sans noise and effects and experimentation, just perfect major chord, breezy vocals, simple jangle, washed out summery dream pop. And while on past records, Real Estate did show hints of the current crop of reverb drenched pop combos, a little psychedelia, a pinch of lo-fi warble, on this most recent record, they've cut the cord completely, and instead, created something that requires we haul out adjectives like sparkling, and glimmering, and glistening. We mentioned in a past review, that these guys were barely even underground, in the sonic sense, sure the sound is a teensy bit lo-fi, and rough hewn, and for however perfect pop this is, no one will mistake this for FM radio Rolling Stone magazine pop, but it's about as close as a little DIY band can get. We're reminded a lot of the late great Field Mice, the same sort of hushed whispery crystalline pop that just seems to float weightless, the sounds lush and lilting and so lovely. There's definitely some urgency here and there some subtle crunch, cuz really this is not all that far removed from past Real Estate records, but it is definitely continuing the group's move away from home brewed and lo-fi toward something much more pretty and polished, and we like it!
Another in the new breed, Ducktails school of shimmery fuzzy tropical garage pop, comes Real Estate. The sound, while perfectly at home amides the current crop of noise poppers, also manages to sound quite Pavement-y, especially the vocals. Minimal tribal drumming, tangled spindly guitars, drawled indie box vox, super catchy, but laid back and drifty, with just the right amount of buzz and haze and shimmer.
Flip it over and the sound is all fuzzy jangle, with caffeinated drumming, sounding VERY eighties, or even early nineties, classic indie pop for sure, but slightly off kilter and just a little bit twisted, and some truly gorgeous guitar/vocal harmonies and reverby new wave chorus to die for.
And yeah, it is, of course, LIMITED.
Another brand new batch of jangly, sunshiney, garage pop from these aQ faves, who continue to hone their sound, distancing themselves from the reverb soaked low fidelity hypnogogia flavor du jour in favor of something much more classically poppy, soaring guitars chime and jangle, sweet vocal harmonies, lush tangled melodies, reminiscent of the Shins, Pavement, Death Cab, etc. Both tracks here have that timeless pop sound that so few bands are able to capture, taking the sound of nineties indie rock, and infusing it with just a bit of the fuzzy garage sound of today, the result is probably a little too polished and poppy for the Ohsees/Ty Segall set, but pop fanatics into that classic jangle and strum sound will be in heaven.
The A side here features Daniel Lopatin from Oneohtrix Point Never, adding some background atmosphere and some swirly synth melodies to RE's warm jangly shimmer!
