[ aquarius records — Rock Pop ]

That Mr. Waits released this on an indie label is not the only cool thing about his long-awaited new album...in fact, it may not even be cool at all because there's already been some problems regarding both price and availability...still, it was a decent idea I suppose. Anyway, Tom Waits fans must have this. Double vinyl also semi-available.

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Wow, what a superb treat for fans of Tom Waits! Orphans is a fantastic three cd set that's sort of akin to those fine Merle Haggard (Cheatin', Drinkin', Hurtin', Prison) and Johnny Cash (God, Love, Murder) cd series that came out a few years ago. But unlike those which were released separately, these similarly themed cds make their entrance together in one beauty of a hardcover book-style package. If we're talkin' numbers, get this: along with the gorgeous 94-page tome, there are 56 tracks (30 of them previously unreleased!), and they capture Waits in all of his battered and bruised, weathered and well-worn gritty glory. A veritable treasure trove! Hmmm, it's getting to be official gift-giving time o' year, isn't it? Hint hint. Recommended.

Unfortunately the limited edition deluxe book version of this Tom Waits collection has gone the way of the dodo bird, but here is the 'regular' and still very nice digipak edition! This is what we said about the first edition last list. Wow, what a superb treat for fans of Tom Waits! Orphans is a fantastic three cd set that's sort of akin to those fine Merle Haggard (Cheatin', Drinkin', Hurtin', Prison) and Johnny Cash (God, Love, Murder) cd series that came out a few years ago. But unlike those which were released separately, these similarly themed cds make their entrance together in one beauty of a package. If we're talkin' numbers, get this: there are 56 tracks (30 of them previously unreleased!), and they capture Waits in all of his battered and bruised, weathered and well-worn gritty glory. Our current fave is the down and out, drown yer sorrows in whisky and tears Bawlers disc. Orphans is a veritable treasure trove of Waits' spoken word and song! Hmmm, it's getting to be official gift-giving time o' year, isn't it? Hint hint. Recommended.

MPEG stream: Fish In The Jailhouse
MPEG stream: Little Drop Of Poison
MPEG stream: Spidey's Wild Ride

If the flurry of Waits lovin' customers clambering at our door on this album's release date is any indication, Real Gone needs no introduction nor fanfare. All that we'll say then is that Mr. Waits has drawn back his threadbare theater curtain on fourteen new songs about the strange, seedy underbelly to which only he has access. As always, the dream / nightmare atmospheres that Waits' music conjure are slightly unhinged and carnivalesque with his pace slipping effortlessly from a snappy clip to the downright funereal. Some songs are stark and jagged like the scratchy poke of a boney finger. Some shuffle about like a drunken scarecrow, while others brittly waver like a seasick musicbox. The range of his voice once again assumes the form of a battered, creaky rasp, a gruff incoherent mutter, and a weary bluesy croon. Unmistakable and unforgettable.

MPEG stream: Hoist
MPEG stream: Shake

A sort of greatest hits collection from one of the greatest songwriters of our time. Being a huge fan as I am, I'm inclined to blow off the greatest hits and tell you to just buy all the albums since, Waits, up until 'The Black Rider' had almost never

While Joy Division and New Order had certainly been the bread and butter for Factory Records, a number of bands who recorded for the label applied alternative signatures to the classic Factory template of post-punk gloom. The Wake -- a Scottish group who gained a broader audience in the post-C-86 sounds of Sarah Records -- produced one of the forgotten gems for Factory in their first record "Harmony." On this album, The Wake intertwines brightly colored, Byrds-inspired guitar jangle from frontman Caesar and bouncy Peter Hookish basslines from Bobby Gillespie (who later went onto join the Jesus & Mary Chain and front Primal Scream). Much of the early '80s post-punk suffered from insufferably stiff percussion; but not so for The Wake, whose Steven Allen is remarkably spry and painterly in his application of metronomic beats - that alternately recalled the monochromatic funk of A Certain Ratio and the jazzed flutter of Durutti Column. When originally released in 1982, "Harmony" was a brief songs; but has been flushed out on CD with some exceptional complementary tracks from a their first two singles on their own label Scan 45 ("On Our Honeymoon" and "Something Outside") plus 3 tracks from their BBC Peel Sessions. All in all, a great find!

RealAudio clip: Favour
RealAudio clip: An Immaculate Conception
RealAudio clip: Testament
RealAudio clip: Patrol

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY.

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY.

This is the record Weezer should have made. In fact this is the record Weezer should have made instead of every record after the blue album (okay, Pinkerton was pretty good). Which Side Are You On? is criminally Weezer like, which seems less criminal when you think about how un-Weezer like the last Weezer record was. This is massive hook filled pop, HUGE guitars, quiggly synth melodies, a dangerously Rivers Cuomo like voice. But so what? Weezer stopped giving us the sort of pop we wanted, nay NEEEDED, long ago, so what's a pop kid to do? From the first few seconds of the first track, you'll know you're in good hands. Hook after hook after hook, huge catchy choruses, killer riffs. This is power pop nirvana for sure! Track three also features a really funny out of nowhere hip hop breakdown, you heard us hip hop, that materializes out of some sugary sweet chorus, and just as quickly slips back in to the same chorus. Weird. It'll have you shaking your head and thinking, "Did I really just hear that?" Makes us think these guys are pretty funny as well as being killer pop songsmiths. As long as you can forgive the bad photo under the tray, white pants all around, hair gel, bare feet. Ugh. The cover art is amazing though, a full color robot surrounded by barely visible robots and samurais printed in back gloss on a matte black background!

MPEG stream: Without You (Which Side Are You On?)
MPEG stream: Take Off
MPEG stream: C'mon Baby

We are so VERY pleased to now have these, nice vinyl reissues (for the first time ever, we're pretty sure) of the three earliest, eeriest albums from the '70s by obscure & unusual French composer Igor Wakhevitch! They're imports from a label based in Barcelona, so they're not that cheap, but they're worth it. Perhaps you remember, years and years ago, the Fractal label released a limited, now long out of print, six-cd box set of Wakhevitch's works circa 1970-1979? We all freaked over that - everyone who worked at aQ at the time bought a copy!! And it was his first three records, these ones, Logos, Docteur Faust, and Hathor, that we were most excited about. All are masterpieces of tense awe-inspiring surrealism constructed from neo-chamber music, spatial electronics, massive plodding percussion, and odd ethnic influences, and feature occasional contributions from French psych band Triangle and some other rock musicians (including Magma's famous bassist Jannick Top), making for an incredible combination of evocative modern classical composition (with choirs, etc.) and krautrockish rhythms and fuzzed guitar. While he was an early associate of Terry Riley and Soft Machine (Docteur Faust is dedicated to Robert Wyatt and Mike Rattledge), Wakhevitch's work is far more malevolent than those artists, taking on qualities that we suggest have more in common with, believe it or not, the Swans. It should not be a surprise that the Swans' Michael Gira has claimed Wakhevitch as one of his favorite musicians. And likewise no surprise that Wakhevitch appears on the infamous Nurse With Wound list. We figure that folks who enjoyed the recent reissues of the strange library music of Egisto Macchi and Alessandro Alessandroni, and the symphonic psychedelics of Jean-Claude Vannier and recent Record Of The Weeker William Sheller will find much twisted appeal in Wakhevitch's music. Also fans of the 20th century classical creepiness of the likes of Luigi Nono, Luc Ferrari, and Stockhausen and/or such out-there prog bands as Magma and Faust ought to find themselves enthused about these records too. Wakhevitch's first album, 1970's Logos, bears the subtitle: "Rituel Sonore pour Group Pop (Triangle), Choeur mixte et Bande Magnetique" and yessir it's a "Rituel Sonore" all right. The eerie opening sets the stage for much of what is to follow, full of rumbling drone and sinister synth shimmer, accompanying otherworldly wordless vocals, like hearing some dramatic, disturbing vocal choir wailing away on a distant windswept planet. As the album progresses, to these strange sounds are added some symphonic-scale percussion (timpani and the like), and eventually, on side two, some urgent, repetitive rock freakout action occurs (that's the band Triangle), replete with heavy ominous echoing chords... It's a powerful mix of avant-classical choirs, electronic tape music, and psychedelic rock weirdness. This record was originally meant as music for a ballet - a very modern, dark and twisted one we can only imagine! Comes in a gatefold sleeve, with notes mentioning Wakhevitch's interest in the mysticism of Gurdieff among other things. 1971's Docteur Faust is equally mad. This occultic avant-classical and acid rock combination is again music for a ballet, it's a kaleidoscopic collage of psychedelic sounds, with sci-fi synths, funky heavy beats, mystic atmospheres, crazed electronics, fuzzed out riffage, tape manipulation, bizarre vocal outbursts, and so much more. Who knew ballets could be this trippy?? One of our favorite tracks in the whole Wakhevitch canon resides here, "Licorns", which in part appears to feature a whinnying horse playing a harpsichord! But that's sandwiched between many other parts equally maniacal and insane, groovy and distorted. And then there's the even more esoteric Hathor from 1973, a Satanic opera of sorts, subtitled "Liturgie du Souffle pour la Resurrection des Morts". We don't have to tell you what that means. Another hallucinatory mixture of avant-classical moves and cosmic electronics in a majestic, ritualistic composition meant to raise the dead. Hathor lays on the thick synth drones from the get-go, with monkish vocal chants hovering over the bass-heavy whoosh. Ominous and epic! Of course Wakhevitch soon shifts sonic gears, with other psychedelic surprises in store - spoken word & screams, tinkling percussion, shuddering beats, organ melodies - but of these albums this is perhaps his space-iest and synth-iest. Also a gatefold, with insert. All three albums are quite recommended, as uniquely powerful & deliriously demented listening experiences. They don't make 'em like this anymore!

MPEG stream: Materia Prima
MPEG stream: Licornes

We are so VERY pleased to now have these, nice vinyl reissues (for the first time ever, we're pretty sure) of the three earliest, eeriest albums from the '70s by obscure & unusual French composer Igor Wakhevitch! They're imports from a label based in Barcelona, so they're not that cheap, but they're worth it. Perhaps you remember, years and years ago, the Fractal label released a limited, now long out of print, six-cd box set of Wakhevitch's works circa 1970-1979? We all freaked over that - everyone who worked at aQ at the time bought a copy!! And it was his first three records, these ones, Logos, Docteur Faust, and Hathor, that we were most excited about. All are masterpieces of tense awe-inspiring surrealism constructed from neo-chamber music, spatial electronics, massive plodding percussion, and odd ethnic influences, and feature occasional contributions from French psych band Triangle and some other rock musicians (including Magma's famous bassist Jannick Top), making for an incredible combination of evocative modern classical composition (with choirs, etc.) and krautrockish rhythms and fuzzed guitar. While he was an early associate of Terry Riley and Soft Machine (Docteur Faust is dedicated to Robert Wyatt and Mike Rattledge), Wakhevitch's work is far more malevolent than those artists, taking on qualities that we suggest have more in common with, believe it or not, the Swans. It should not be a surprise that the Swans' Michael Gira has claimed Wakhevitch as one of his favorite musicians. And likewise no surprise that Wakhevitch appears on the infamous Nurse With Wound list. We figure that folks who enjoyed the recent reissues of the strange library music of Egisto Macchi and Alessandro Alessandroni, and the symphonic psychedelics of Jean-Claude Vannier and recent Record Of The Weeker William Sheller will find much twisted appeal in Wakhevitch's music. Also fans of the 20th century classical creepiness of the likes of Luigi Nono, Luc Ferrari, and Stockhausen and/or such out-there prog bands as Magma and Faust ought to find themselves enthused about these records too. Wakhevitch's first album, 1970's Logos, bears the subtitle: "Rituel Sonore pour Group Pop (Triangle), Choeur mixte et Bande Magnetique" and yessir it's a "Rituel Sonore" all right. The eerie opening sets the stage for much of what is to follow, full of rumbling drone and sinister synth shimmer, accompanying otherworldly wordless vocals, like hearing some dramatic, disturbing vocal choir wailing away on a distant windswept planet. As the album progresses, to these strange sounds are added some symphonic-scale percussion (timpani and the like), and eventually, on side two, some urgent, repetitive rock freakout action occurs (that's the band Triangle), replete with heavy ominous echoing chords... It's a powerful mix of avant-classical choirs, electronic tape music, and psychedelic rock weirdness. This record was originally meant as music for a ballet - a very modern, dark and twisted one we can only imagine! Comes in a gatefold sleeve, with notes mentioning Wakhevitch's interest in the mysticism of Gurdieff among other things. 1971's Docteur Faust is equally mad. This occultic avant-classical and acid rock combination is again music for a ballet, it's a kaleidoscopic collage of psychedelic sounds, with sci-fi synths, funky heavy beats, mystic atmospheres, crazed electronics, fuzzed out riffage, tape manipulation, bizarre vocal outbursts, and so much more. Who knew ballets could be this trippy?? One of our favorite tracks in the whole Wakhevitch canon resides here, "Licorns", which in part appears to feature a whinnying horse playing a harpsichord! But that's sandwiched between many other parts equally maniacal and insane, groovy and distorted. And then there's the even more esoteric Hathor from 1973, a Satanic opera of sorts, subtitled "Liturgie du Souffle pour la Resurrection des Morts". We don't have to tell you what that means. Another hallucinatory mixture of avant-classical moves and cosmic electronics in a majestic, ritualistic composition meant to raise the dead. Hathor lays on the thick synth drones from the get-go, with monkish vocal chants hovering over the bass-heavy whoosh. Ominous and epic! Of course Wakhevitch soon shifts sonic gears, with other psychedelic surprises in store - spoken word & screams, tinkling percussion, shuddering beats, organ melodies - but of these albums this is perhaps his space-iest and synth-iest. Also a gatefold, with insert. All three albums are quite recommended, as uniquely powerful & deliriously demented listening experiences. They don't make 'em like this anymore!

MPEG stream: Hymne A Sathanael (Aimantation Des Forces)
MPEG stream: Rituel De Guerre Des Esprits De La Terre

We are so VERY pleased to now have these, nice vinyl reissues (for the first time ever, we're pretty sure) of the three earliest, eeriest albums from the '70s by obscure & unusual French composer Igor Wakhevitch! They're imports from a label based in Barcelona, so they're not that cheap, but they're worth it. Perhaps you remember, years and years ago, the Fractal label released a limited, now long out of print, six-cd box set of Wakhevitch's works circa 1970-1979? We all freaked over that - everyone who worked at aQ at the time bought a copy!! And it was his first three records, these ones, Logos, Docteur Faust, and Hathor, that we were most excited about. All are masterpieces of tense awe-inspiring surrealism constructed from neo-chamber music, spatial electronics, massive plodding percussion, and odd ethnic influences, and feature occasional contributions from French psych band Triangle and some other rock musicians (including Magma's famous bassist Jannick Top), making for an incredible combination of evocative modern classical composition (with choirs, etc.) and krautrockish rhythms and fuzzed guitar. While he was an early associate of Terry Riley and Soft Machine (Docteur Faust is dedicated to Robert Wyatt and Mike Rattledge), Wakhevitch's work is far more malevolent than those artists, taking on qualities that we suggest have more in common with, believe it or not, the Swans. It should not be a surprise that the Swans' Michael Gira has claimed Wakhevitch as one of his favorite musicians. And likewise no surprise that Wakhevitch appears on the infamous Nurse With Wound list. We figure that folks who enjoyed the recent reissues of the strange library music of Egisto Macchi and Alessandro Alessandroni, and the symphonic psychedelics of Jean-Claude Vannier and recent Record Of The Weeker William Sheller will find much twisted appeal in Wakhevitch's music. Also fans of the 20th century classical creepiness of the likes of Luigi Nono, Luc Ferrari, and Stockhausen and/or such out-there prog bands as Magma and Faust ought to find themselves enthused about these records too. Wakhevitch's first album, 1970's Logos, bears the subtitle: "Rituel Sonore pour Group Pop (Triangle), Choeur mixte et Bande Magnetique" and yessir it's a "Rituel Sonore" all right. The eerie opening sets the stage for much of what is to follow, full of rumbling drone and sinister synth shimmer, accompanying otherworldly wordless vocals, like hearing some dramatic, disturbing vocal choir wailing away on a distant windswept planet. As the album progresses, to these strange sounds are added some symphonic-scale percussion (timpani and the like), and eventually, on side two, some urgent, repetitive rock freakout action occurs (that's the band Triangle), replete with heavy ominous echoing chords... It's a powerful mix of avant-classical choirs, electronic tape music, and psychedelic rock weirdness. This record was originally meant as music for a ballet - a very modern, dark and twisted one we can only imagine! Comes in a gatefold sleeve, with notes mentioning Wakhevitch's interest in the mysticism of Gurdieff among other things. 1971's Docteur Faust is equally mad. This occultic avant-classical and acid rock combination is again music for a ballet, it's a kaleidoscopic collage of psychedelic sounds, with sci-fi synths, funky heavy beats, mystic atmospheres, crazed electronics, fuzzed out riffage, tape manipulation, bizarre vocal outbursts, and so much more. Who knew ballets could be this trippy?? One of our favorite tracks in the whole Wakhevitch canon resides here, "Licorns", which in part appears to feature a whinnying horse playing a harpsichord! But that's sandwiched between many other parts equally maniacal and insane, groovy and distorted. And then there's the even more esoteric Hathor from 1973, a Satanic opera of sorts, subtitled "Liturgie du Souffle pour la Resurrection des Morts". We don't have to tell you what that means. Another hallucinatory mixture of avant-classical moves and cosmic electronics in a majestic, ritualistic composition meant to raise the dead. Hathor lays on the thick synth drones from the get-go, with monkish vocal chants hovering over the bass-heavy whoosh. Ominous and epic! Of course Wakhevitch soon shifts sonic gears, with other psychedelic surprises in store - spoken word & screams, tinkling percussion, shuddering beats, organ melodies - but of these albums this is perhaps his space-iest and synth-iest. Also a gatefold, with insert. All three albums are quite recommended, as uniquely powerful & deliriously demented listening experiences. They don't make 'em like this anymore!

MPEG stream: Ergon
MPEG stream: Danse Sacrale

A big welcome back greeting goes out to Seattle's Walkabouts! They're that great band who bucked the trend back in those Pacific Northwest grunge rock days, making beautiful, somber and decidedly un-grunge music. Hmmm, maybe that's a bit misleading for us to say, 'cause actually they never went away. In the years since they've continued to craft their distinct gothic (not goth) Americana music in abundance. Really, the size (not to mention caliber) of their body of recordings is astounding. The problem is that many of their releases have been downright impossible-to-find imports, but fortunately this particular release found its way to our ears. And we are grateful. The theme of this release is Nina Simone. That's right, they've covered five of her songs, and they're fantastic! Their haunting version of "Nobody's Fault But Mine" may send chills down your spine! For fans of Ms Simone, The Walkabouts, of both or of neither. We only wish they'd kept on goin' past the five song mark.

MPEG stream: The Desperate Ones
MPEG stream: Nobody's Fault But Mine

Even though these dudes are a local band, few of us had heard of them. However, all it took was a brief glance at the back cover, revealing a song called "Beast Toker," and we were pretty much sold. We carried their last ep, a self-released cd-r, but that one is long gone, and now Walken take things to the next logical place with an actual cd, one that is sure to win them support from anyone digging fellow local sludgelords like Kowloon Walled City, Black Cobra, and pretty much all of the East Bay. The band stands along the border of punk and metal, with one foot on each side, but luckily things never seem like some self-conscious hybrid. Best of all, Walken shred things up in expert fashion with all kinds of cool pinch harmonics and uber metal elements while the songs chug along with catchy riffs, super tight drumming, and lots of cool gang vocals. At times, there seems to be a fairly pronounced NWOBHM vibe, but maybe that's just us (probably not though). Things often end up sounding like a more grooving Converge with vocals at times reminiscent of legendary Swedes Refused, or perhaps a more punked out Nachtmystium. Sound good? You bet it does. And if this album is any indication of this band's unholy talents, we can only imagine how much they must KILL it live. Another welcome release from San Francisco's ever fertile heavy underground. Fuck yeah.

MPEG stream: Watch It Burn
MPEG stream: Thunder Paws
MPEG stream: Beast Toker

In the mid-1960s the Walker Brothers scored a string of hits in the UK. An American trio (who weren't really brothers), their brooding, epic recordings appealed to the same crowd entranced by the Righteous Brothers. Scott Walker went on to become even more famous than the Walker Bros, with three solo albums that went to the Top 3. We try to always carry his solo albums, as they are classics that will never ever sound dated, and you should definitely give them a try. But if you are already in possession of those you might want to pick up this double cd collection. It's filled with all their hit singles, including the sublime "Make It Easy on Yourself". The second disc is a collector's delight, with selected solo tracks from all three Walker Bros' separate solo projects.

RealAudio clip: Make It Easy on Yourself
RealAudio clip: The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore

Anyone who saw the great 2008 Scott Walker documentary, 30th Century Man, may recognize this final Walker Brothers album from 1978 as the musical bridge that connects Scott Walker's early over the top orchestral balladry from the sixties and seventies to his bizarrely dark and doomy sonic explorations of the past 25 years. The rare, much sought after Nite Flights is a strange brew indeed. The Walker Brothers started out in the mid-sixties as the British equivalent of The Righteous Brothers. Even though all the members were American and not brothers, they had a much bigger following in England. Nite Flights is their last hurrah and much like the Beatles' White Album, it feels like a suite of the various members solo leanings, rather than a cohesive band effort. Though it's brought together production-wise by everyone's attempt to follow a more modern rock direction, so it's got a more driving and rather darkened vibe that unfortunately includes some era (in)appropriate rock sax, and electric guitar solo riffery. But it's the Scott Walker songs (the first four on the record) that are worth the whole price of admission, especially the title track which has a noirish night drive David Bowie feel (in fact Bowie covered it, but Scott's is better!). "The Electrician" with it's foreboding tense beginning is the biggest premonition towards what he would later attempt on Tilt, The Drift, and Bish Bosch, even if it includes some lush big pop orchestrations of strings and harps that looks nicely back to Scott 4. A curious rock record that has some weirdly great songs that every fan of Scott Walker should have.

MPEG stream: Nite Flights
MPEG stream: The Electrician
MPEG stream: Shut Out
MPEG stream: Death of Romance

I Have Never Told You is comprised of twenty tracks of haunting, contemplative compositions from the fine songwriting quill of one Mr. Erik Ian Walker. Together they form a somberly dramatic soundscape of constantly changing atmospheres. Walker's piano, hammond organ and vintage synthesizers (a Buchla and an Oberheim Matrix-12) entwine with a variety of guest musicians' strings, horns and woodwinds. Brief surfacings of Marit Brook-Kothlow's soulful forlorn vocals, occasional rhythmic outbursts and fleeting glimpses of ambient sounds like the whistling of a tea kettle or the percussive rattle of an old radiator punctuate the proceedings. A particularly stirring stretch comes in the tenth track "Castle Canyon" in which over the course of a few minutes a mere whisper of sound slowly builds, swelling to an absolute roar. Wonderful!

MPEG stream: Castle Canyon
MPEG stream: Far From Here

Recorded right after his stellar quartet of numbered records 1-4, 'Til the Band Comes In, was in our opinion, unfairly panned upon its original release in 1970. Now the Water label gives us all a chance to re-evaluate. While not his outright best record ever (that would be Scott 2!), and definitely not the weirdest (The Drift), it's noteworthy for being the beginning of his more experimental later period, while at the same time adopting the old school variety-show schtick of his television show in full force. The record starts out with a couple of moments of anticipatory sounds, a low rumble, a bit of noisy shuffling that wouldn't sound out of place at the start of any metal record today before the sonic onslaught is unleashed, but instead here we get an orchestra swooping into the full wall-of-sound pop production of the first song "Little Things (That Keep Us Together)", that harkens back to the sublime pop of The Walker Brothers. Other songs like "Time Operator" use the recordings of the telephone time lady as a backdrop for a ballad of utter loneliness. Largely the songs are of the big war-time ballad variety that we love from his previous records, with some moments of baroque country and ecstatic pop, only occasionally drooping into some vaudevillian schmaltz that is fun but not quite as endearing. The last few songs go into some well-worn covers territory like Classics IV's "Stormy" and "What Are You Doing The Rest of Your Life", which are performed well but seem to be reaching out to a different audience altogether. An admitted oddity in an already odd discography, this is still classic Scott Walker where hits and misses are pretty much relative to each listener.

MPEG stream: Little Things (That Keep Us Together)
MPEG stream: Time Operator
MPEG stream: Stormy

Last year's The Drift was a menacing fever dream, delving into dark sonic realms that wasn't for the weak of heart. Who knew that the same sort of staccato violin stabs, claustrophobic restraint and pounding rhythms would translate into a moving score for dance. Scott Walker, commissioned by the CandoCo Dance Company and Choreographer Rafael Bonachela, has composed 4 instrumental pieces for the dance piece "And Who Shall Go To The Ball, And What Shall Go To The Ball". In his own words, "the music is full of edgy and staccato shapes and cuts, reflecting how we cut up the world around us as a consequence of the shape of our bodies". While it may be a bit hard to fully appreciate the music removed from the realm of the resulting dance performance, a new Scott Walker release is pretty much always welcome in our books.

MPEG stream: Part 2
MPEG stream: Part 4

There are perhaps too many literary and historical allusions in Scott Walker's latest viscerally infernal libretto to map out any specific meaning for our dear readers, but the brute force of the complexly sophisticated and yet still bombastic arrangements is enough to both highly recommend to our listeners with difficult and extreme tastes, and to warn others who may not be able to stomach such arch utter weirdness. We weren't sure Walker could venture further into such out-there territory than 2006's The Drift, but the man continually surprises. The sound design is incredibly, even crazier: plucked strings like cawing birds, farting theremins, coffin nail drumming, the heavy guitars that wind in serpentine fashion like venomous snakes around Walker's operatic croon, the sharpening of blades, the detuned horns, the carnival rhythms that appear and recede seemingly out of nowhere. But through the strange and corpulent madness of music comes moments of sublime tenderness that momentarily hearken back to Walker's early solo records, a wistful nod to "Plastic Palace People" on "Corps Du Blah" for example, keeps this from being an exercise in extreme sonic indulgence like say "Lou-Tallica" was. We have rarely heard a more insane record, but whether that is complimentary or not remains entirely in the hands, and the ears, of the listener.

MPEG stream: See You Don't Bump His Head
MPEG stream: Zercon, A Flagpole Sitter
MPEG stream: Epizootics
MPEG stream: The Day The Conductor Died

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. [/cat/rockpop464.html]

Whether you are enamored of them or perplexed by them, there is nothing quite like Scott Walker's suite of solo records from the late sixties. Exquisitely produced with dizzyingly lush orchestrations to emphasize full pop dramatic effect, they are also literally dripping with visual and visceral lyricism, filled with vile and wondrous characters and sung in Walker's deeply mellifluent and over-the-top croon. Tortured torch songs, incendiary victory songs, pop fantasias, ghostly ballads, and folk pop are eccentrically intermixed through dynamic interpretations of popular songs, and as the records progress, uniquely original compositions. Each one a perfect piece on its own, yet as a whole suite offers a dazzling entry into an incomparably visual sound world like a rich confection that begs to be slowly consumed. Finally reissued on vinyl, the way they were meant to be heard, we have fallen in love all over again. While we wholeheartedly recommend all four, for those looking for a good starting point, our favorites as whole records are Scott 2 and Scott 4. For those not blessed with record players, the cd versions are also available. Recorded after the breakup of the Walker Brothers in 1967, the American born British resident Scott Walker (nee: Noel Scott Engel), embarked on these solo efforts to explore his fascination with European musical, literary, and theatrical forms: The creepy wonderment of classical composer Saint-Saens, The French Symbolist literature of Baudelaire and Huysmans, the political theater of Brecht and Weill, the stark existentialism of Bergman, the theatrical whimsy of Anthony Newley, and most of all, the celebrated street urchin poetry of Flemish singer-songwriter, Jacques Brel, of whom Walker covers nine English versions of his songs throughout. Seemingly out of step with his time, these records must have been too serious for the youthful psychedelic era, yet too odd for the older pop-vocal market. The first three enjoyed minimal success, enough to get a short-lived TV show, but the fourth (and one of the best) was a commercial flop (probably due to his attempt to release it under his given name; it was later changed to Scott 4). Yet, over the years, these records have developed an increasingly avid cult following, enough of one for Walker to come out of his reclusiveness and occasionally record a new album. Though what he's on about now makes these first solo albums seem like a ride at Disneyland, you have to respect an artist who explores his vision relentlessly and never looks back. Yet, as fans, we will always come back to these first four records, which amazingly have withstood the test of time and should be canonized amongst the most highly influential records ever! High Art or High Camp? Generous heapings of both, please. Although comprised mostly of covers, Walker already began to show strong songwriting skills on his first solo record, Scott, especially with "Montague Terrace (In Blue)" where he describes unsavory neighbors in his tenement flat, one as a "bloated belching figure", and another "whose thighs are full of tales to tell of nights she's known". But it's "My Death", one of three Brel covers that is the album's centerpiece. Later covered by David Bowie in his Ziggy Stardust phase, Walker's version features such hypnotic orchestration, serpentine guitar passages and swelling stabbing strings that it almost feels like we're being brought to the threshold of death on a cloud of poisonous perfume. Overall, a fine selection of songs that show his range of performance and promise for the records to come.

MPEG stream: Montague Terrace (In Blue)
MPEG stream: My Death
MPEG stream: Such A Small Love

Whether you are enamored of them or perplexed by them, there is nothing quite like Scott Walker's suite of solo records from the late sixties. Exquisitely produced with dizzyingly lush orchestrations to emphasize full pop dramatic effect, they are also literally dripping with visual and visceral lyricism, filled with vile and wonderous characters and sung in Walker's deeply mellifluent and over-the-top croon. Tortured torch songs, incendiary victory songs, pop fantasias, ghostly ballads, and folk pop are eccentrically intermixed through dynamic interpretations of popular songs, and as the records progress, uniquely original compositions. Each one a perfect piece on its own, yet as a whole suite offers a dazzling entry into an incomparably visual sound world like a rich confection that begs to be slowly consumed. Finally reissued on vinyl, the way they were meant to be heard, we have fallen in love all over again. While we wholeheartedly recommend all four, for those looking for a good starting point, our favorites as whole records are Scott 2 and Scott 4. For those not blessed with record players, the cd versions are also available. Recorded after the breakup of the Walker Brothers in 1967, the American born British resident Scott Walker (ne: Noel Scott Engel), embarked on these solo efforts to explore his fascination with European musical, literary, and theatrical forms: The creepy wonderment of classical composer Saint-Saens, The French Symbolist literature of Baudelaire and Huysmans, the political theatre of Brecht and Weill, the stark existentialism of Bergman, the theatrical whimsy of Anthony Newley, and most of all, the celebrated street urchin poetry of Flemish singer-songwriter, Jacques Brel, of whom Walker covers nine English versions of his songs throughout. Seemingly out of step with his time, these records must have been too serious for the youthful psychedelic era, yet too odd for the older pop-vocal market. The first three enjoyed minimal success, enough to get a short-lived TV show, but the fourth (and one of the best) was a commercial flop (probably due to his attempt to release it under his given name; it was later changed to Scott 4). Yet, over the years, these records have developed an increasingly avid cult following, enough of one for Walker to come out of his reclusiveness and occasionally record a new album. Though what he's on about now makes these first solo albums seem like a ride at Disneyland, you have to respect an artist who explores his vision relentlessly and never looks back. Yet, as fans, we will always come back to these first four records, which amazingly have withstood the test of time and should be canonized amongst the most highly influential records ever! High Art or High Camp? Generous heapings of both, please. Scott 2 is one of our favorites, not that it's necessarily different from the others but the choice of songs flows perfectly together. In fact the first side of Scott 2 is pure pop vocal perfection, beginning with the Brel cover "Jackie", whose enthusiastically fast delivery is mind-boggling (Youtube this!). Then the bitter torch of "Best of Both Worlds", the Tim Hardin cover, "Black Sheep Boy", the original "The Amorous Humphrey Plugg" about a man escaping from the claustrophobia of domestic life into a tragic fantasy. "Next" is next, one of Brel's most visceral and theatrical tunes about the dehumanizing experience of a military coming of age, which is then followed by Walker's companion sequel "Girls From The Streets" told by the same character as a man resigned to a life of bitterness and depravity. Yet the centerpiece is the fantasia "Plastic Palace People", which begins side 2. A dizzying dualistic fairy tale about a boy's embrace of his youthful innocence and a girl mourning the loss of hers. This kills!

MPEG stream: The Amorous Humphrey Plugg
MPEG stream: Next
MPEG stream: Plastic Palace People

Whether you are enamored of them or perplexed by them, there is nothing quite like Scott Walker's suite of solo records from the late sixties. Exquisitely produced with dizzyingly lush orchestrations to emphasize full pop dramatic effect, they are also literally dripping with visual and visceral lyricism, filled with vile and wonderous characters and sung in Walker's deeply mellifluent and over-the-top croon. Tortured torch songs, incendiary victory songs, pop fantasias, ghostly ballads, and folk pop are eccentrically intermixed through dynamic interpretations of popular songs, and as the records progress, uniquely original compositions. Each one a perfect piece on its own, yet as a whole suite offers a dazzling entry into an incomparably visual sound world like a rich confection that begs to be slowly consumed. Finally reissued on vinyl, the way they were meant to be heard, we have fallen in love all over again. While we wholeheartedly recommend all four, for those looking for a good starting point, our favorites as whole records are Scott 2 and Scott 4. For those not blessed with record players, the cd versions are also available. Recorded after the breakup of the Walker Brothers in 1967, the American born British resident Scott Walker (ne: Noel Scott Engel), embarked on these solo efforts to explore his fascination with European musical, literary, and theatrical forms: The creepy wonderment of classical composer Saint-Saens, The French Symbolist literature of Baudelaire and Huysmans, the political theatre of Brecht and Weill, the stark existentialism of Bergman, the theatrical whimsy of Anthony Newley, and most of all, the celebrated street urchin poetry of Flemish singer-songwriter, Jacques Brel, of whom Walker covers nine English versions of his songs throughout. Seemingly out of step with his time, these records must have been too serious for the youthful psychedelic era, yet too odd for the older pop-vocal market. The first three enjoyed minimal success, enough to get a short-lived TV show, but the fourth (and one of the best) was a commercial flop (probably due to his attempt to release it under his given name; it was later changed to Scott 4). Yet, over the years, these records have developed an increasingly avid cult following, enough of one for Walker to come out of his reclusiveness and occasionally record a new album. Though what he's on about now makes these first solo albums seem like a ride at Disneyland, you have to respect an artist who explores his vision relentlessly and never looks back. Yet, as fans, we will always come back to these first four records, which amazingly have withstood the test of time and should be canonized amongst the most highly influential records ever! High Art or High Camp? Generous heapings of both, please. Scott 3 has the best cover art of the bunch. The others are pretty straight ahead portraits, but 3 is a close up of an eye with vibrantly purple eyelashes. Inside the pupil we see a melancholy Walker, which is apt, as Scott 3 is the most melancholy of the four records. The tempo is slower and apart from the Brel inspired original, "We Came Through" and the quirky acoustic tribute to Cryogenics of "30th Century Man" (featured on the soundtrack to Wes Anderson's "The Life Aquatic"), most of the tracks on Scott 3 are ballads to the ghosts of romance. Definitely a rainy day record, and probably not the best place to start for newbies.

MPEG stream: It's Raining Today
MPEG stream: We Came Through
MPEG stream: 30th Century Man

Whether you are enamored of them or perplexed by them, there is nothing quite like Scott Walker's suite of solo records from the late sixties. Exquisitely produced with dizzyingly lush orchestrations to emphasize full pop dramatic effect, they are also literally dripping with visual and visceral lyricism, filled with vile and wonderous characters and sung in Walker's deeply mellifluent and over-the-top croon. Tortured torch songs, incendiary victory songs, pop fantasias, ghostly ballads, and folk pop are eccentrically intermixed through dynamic interpretations of popular songs, and as the records progress, uniquely original compositions. Each one a perfect piece on its own, yet as a whole suite offers a dazzling entry into an incomparably visual sound world like a rich confection that begs to be slowly consumed. Finally reissued on vinyl, the way they were meant to be heard, we have fallen in love all over again. While we wholeheartedly recommend all four, for those looking for a good starting point, our favorites as whole records are Scott 2 and Scott 4. For those not blessed with record players, the cd versions are also available. Recorded after the breakup of the Walker Brothers in 1967, the American born British resident Scott Walker (ne: Noel Scott Engel), embarked on these solo efforts to explore his fascination with European musical, literary, and theatrical forms: The creepy wonderment of classical composer Saint-Saens, The French Symbolist literature of Baudelaire and Huysmans, the political theatre of Brecht and Weill, the stark existentialism of Bergman, the theatrical whimsy of Anthony Newley, and most of all, the celebrated street urchin poetry of Flemish singer-songwriter, Jacques Brel, of whom Walker covers nine English versions of his songs throughout. Seemingly out of step with his time, these records must have been too serious for the youthful psychedelic era, yet too odd for the older pop-vocal market. The first three enjoyed minimal success, enough to get a short-lived TV show, but the fourth (and one of the best) was a commercial flop (probably due to his attempt to release it under his given name; it was later changed to Scott 4). Yet, over the years, these records have developed an increasingly avid cult following, enough of one for Walker to come out of his reclusiveness and occasionally record a new album. Though what he's on about now makes these first solo albums seem like a ride at Disneyland, you have to respect an artist who explores his vision relentlessly and never looks back. Yet, as fans, we will always come back to these first four records, which amazingly have withstood the test of time and should be canonized amongst the most highly influential records ever! High Art or High Camp? Generous heapings of both, please. Scott 4 is definitely the most unique of the four. It's all original compositions for one thing, but also the arrangements are more upbeat, and while the orchestral elements are there, folk, rock and country elements of guitar and drums appear more than ever before. Still eccentric songwriting abounds. The opener, "The Seventh Seal", a flamenco pop tribute to the Bergman film of the same name about a medieval knight's chess game with Death is full of the pomp we love in Scott Walkers music. And while there are no Brel covers on 4, his influence can be heard on centerpiece "The Old Man's Back Again (Dedicated to the Neo-Stalinist Regime)", as well as "Hero of the War". A sequel of sorts to "Plastic Palace People" on Scott 2 can be seen in "Boy Child", one of the most beautifully arranged ballads, while the strings in "The World's Strongest Man" brings tears every time. Yet, weirder still, the final three songs take a strange turn into lush country pop with slide guitar, and back-up vocals (for the first time!) that allude to the direction Walker persued unsuccessfully through the seventies. Still very Stellar!

MPEG stream: The Seventh Seal
MPEG stream: World's Strongest Man
MPEG stream: The Old Man's Back Again

Whoa! Scott Walker has certainly never been about meeting audience expectations, but we never expected hime to go in a direction this extreme, a lyrical and musical excursion so far out it's a little disconcerting. The Drift, his first release in 11 years has got to be some of the darkest and intensely uneasy soul-baring music we have heard lately, which is saying a lot for us. Visceral and highly visual, Walker seems to be channeling the decadent symbolist literature of Rimbaud, Verlaine or J.K. Huysmans as well as the surrealist existentialism of T. S. Eliot or Georges Bataille, as he takes us on a poisoned delirious absinthe-induced journey through the seasons of hell. Walker's voice recalls a strange mutation of Antony's (from Antony and the Johnsons) operatic theatrics and Jandek's sorrowful moans as it plays against orchestral arrangements that sound like Arvo Part, Morricone and Penderecki caught in a purgatorial bar-room brawl. Punctuated by deep resonant strings, concrete blocks pounding on wood, sounds of donkeys braying, and snippets of shortwave radio, Walker's arrangements vary from oppressive ambience to brutal stabs of orchestrated noise, as they cover a wide gamut of themes, characters and moods, from the reproachful condemnation of power to the painful humanity of love. The saving moment comes at the end with A Lover Loves, a spare but melodic ballad of voice and acoustic guitar that is the albums only peek back to the Scott Walker of old (in particular, Scott 4), and it kills! Good, great, amazing, none of those are really useful superlatives in the case of The Drift, although it is all of those things and then some, as it definitely will not appeal to everyone, especially fans of Walker's first four solo records from the late sixties. But viewed as a work of art, with all the genuine brilliance and pretension that that may entail, this is extraordinary and astonishing uneasy listening!

MPEG stream: Cossacks Are
MPEG stream: Hand Me Ups
MPEG stream: A Lover Loves

When we first heard about the collaboration, it sounded like a joke, like some internet meme. It did seem crazy, and on the surface, pretty hilarious, but eventually it was proven to be an actual thing. Then when we first heard a little snippet online, we weren't entirely sold, Walker sounded even more over the top than usual, and the title Soused seems to indicate that maybe Walker was in fact completely wasted when he recorded his vocals, cuz it definitely sounded like it. But when we finally got to hear the whole thing, it suddenly all made sense, Walker's vocals, while still insanely dramatic and over the top, were somehow perfect, and SUNNO))), instead of just doing the guitars-against-the-amps drone thing, really seem to be working way outside their comfort zone, and in fact, lots of this record sounds extremely, sonically uncomfortable. Fantastically so. We were so smitten by opener "Brando", we had trouble digging any deeper into the record. Right from the get go, opening with Walker crooning over a whirring organ, shimmery and sun dappled, and what sounds suspiciously like the Guns 'N Roses "Sweet Child O' Mine" guitar lick, but then the thick, viscous drones creep in, accompanied by strange ticks and pulsations, as well as what sounds like a bull whip, as well as the occasional burst of distorto guitar, the combination of that low end creep, and Walker's vocals, as well as a cool feedback/high end that seems to echo the vocal melody, it's pretty powerful, and stunning, weird, but also weirdly beautiful. "Herod 2014" was our next obsession, with it's weird squelchy electronic rhythm, buried in thick rumbling thrum, it's Walker who carries the song, some sort of demented, and yeah, likely seriously soused, torch song, flecked with static, and driven by a slo-mo Sabbath riff stretched out into near static sprawl, Walker's vocals wreathed in lots of mysterious noise, the whole track peppered with what sounds like some strange banshee wail, or pterodactyl cry, but it's somehow so perfect, that it becomes as integral to the song as any other element. "Bull" is downright balladic after the previous heaving monoliths, but not for long, the song exploding into some serious Swans like pummel, with Walker kicking it up a notch, some loose chaotic drum damage, some junkyard percussion, and a 'hook' that manages to be the catchiest bit on the whole record, the song slipping into slo-mo somnambulant creeps, before launching right back into that 'chorus'. We have to be honest, the first three songs are so perfect, it's not until maybe the 20th listen that we even made it to the last two, but they're similarly broody and bombastic, "Fetish" featuring some seriously buzzed out bass (assuming that's a bass), and like "Bull" before it, another killer 'chorus', that sounds like Swans gone haywire, dosed on some serious narcotics, a wild cacophony of elephant like electronic bleats, churning metallic riffing, monstrous drumming, before settling into what sounds like some sick, mutant strain of kraut-doom. And don't even get us started on Walker's INSANE lyrics, in this case, a refrain of "Choo Choo, Choo Choo mama", which sounds ridiculous, but in the context of the song, it sounds mad, maniacal, and like some sort of twisted genius, which we're assuming it is. Finally, there's "Lullaby", which is one, at least for a moment, until another blurt of atonal, moaning, keening, doom cabaret explodes from the murk, only to settle right back down, most of the track spent in hushed lowercase mode, finishing off super dramatically, a field of barely there guitar rumble, distant sonar like pings, ominous swells, mysterious insectoid clicking, and one final, haunting stanza from Walker. Most definitely a twisted outsider masterpiece, and considering how skeptical we were, it's even more surprising that this might just end up being a record of the year contender for some of us!

MPEG stream: Brando
MPEG stream: Herod 2014
MPEG stream: Bull

Damn expensive import! But, really, these songs are maybe worth it!

The Walking Corpses are yet another Teenage Panzerkorps side-project, this time the core sonix axis of snarled Teutonic vocals from Bunker Wolf with the detoured punk of Boy True (aka Jason Honea), is augmented by two other characters in the form of Ratbag and John Murphy (who may or may not be the same person who has freelanced in SPK, Current 93, Death In June, Whitehouse, Dumb & The Ugly, etc.). It's a scabrous noise affair with a tenuous hold on what may pass for a song, with piano notes dragged for miles through fields of tape hiss and distortion and sped up into a 90 second track, snapping to another 'song' whose sole arrangement is a tortured drum machine, and then there's Bunker Wolf - a monumental presence in Teenage Panzerkorps, who reprises that role here in The Walking Corpses. But on one track, Honea takes on the vocal duties with lush languid harmonies like those he brought to The Knit Separates and even back to his punk days in Social Unrest. It's a super quick 10 minute set from The Walking Corpses, but it's pretty wonderfully fucked up.

Guitar (and sample) slinging Texan Scott Ayers's Walking Timebombs make a return to the fucked up industrial/goth/experimental rock of his previous outfit, the late great Pain Teens. The Walking Timebombs are not only a full-fledged guitar/bass/drums band now, they also got themselves a female singer a la Pain Teens. But while Scott's heavy duty guitar, loops, and samples haven't changed much from the Pain Teens days, new singer Sarah Evans is no Bliss Blood. Her singing is just too forced and affected, in that Alanis Morrisette style. Or like a female Layne Staley, even. Alanis Morrisette fronting the Pain Teens? Hmm. None of the danger of Blood, indeed a few tracks like "Good Thoughts" could maybe be played on modern rock radio. Ugh. What's with that? Pain Teens wrote some "pop" songs too ("RU486") but not like this. Still, some of this certainly does bring back memories of Pain Teens' heyday, and might get you dragging out your old "Stimulation Festival" or "Born In Blood" discs, 'cause while "Sapsucker" has its enjoyable moments, for this most part this new stuff is just too safe. The Pain Teens we remember had much more of an edge, this is just kinda hokey; the 'disturbing' bits just aren't convincing even when the music is fairly heavy. Of course, it's NOT the Pain Teens, so maybe we're not being fair. But Scott and Co. have to expect comparisons... so give it a listen yourself.

RealAudio clip: Parasite
RealAudio clip: Fallen

Now here's a warehouse find that actually came from a real warehouse, instead of our closet behind the counter or the shelf near Andee's desk. We dug up a handful of these at one of our distributors, the same place we found those rare Japanese cds we've listed lately. We have always been obsessed with Shimmy Disc. For a long stretch there, everything they put out was weird and wonderful and unlike ANYthing else we had ever heard. Bongwater, Velvet Monkeys, Dogbowl, B.A.L.L., Fred Lane, King Missile, Carney-Hild-Kramer, Spongehead, Shockabilly, Jellyfish Kiss, and long before they became household names, Shimmy Disc was introducing us to groups like the Boredoms, the Ruins, Gwar, Naked City, Ween, Damon And Naomi we could go on. Needless to say, our Shimmy loyalty was not misplaced. One other band we discovered via Shimmy Disc, was UK psychedelic space rockers Walkingseeds, and as luck would have it, one of our local distributors had a handful of copies gathering dust in their warehouse, of the group's final, and some would argue best, record, Bad Orb, Whirling Ball. If you're a reader of Julian Cope's Head Heritage blog (and if you're not you should be!), you might remember him raving about Bad Orb, describing it thusly: "An album of malign, choppy cosmic fuzz that Killing Joke would have died for, an album that twists American delta blues and English folk shanties into strange psychedelic vistas that far better musicians can only dream of... a relentless, cathartic, pysch-rock album that spins with malice towards its final conclusion!" Tough to argue with that, and why would you? This is some fantastically tripped out, spacey, weirdly poppy, psychedelic fuzz garage heaviness, produced by Shimmy Disc head honcho Kramer, so instead of sounding heavy or spacey, it sounds gorgeously washed out and cosmic, otherworldly, but still raw and urgent and super rocking. Don Fleming of B.A.L.L. and at one time Dinosaur Jr. contributes some "Chinese alien guitar" on one track, which is a strange coincidence since head Walkingseed Frank Martin is an almost dead ringer for Fleming, with a similarly nasal, ragged style of vocalizing. Equal parts Stooges, Blue Cheer, Hawkwind, Blue Oyster Cult (who they cover on another record), the Beatles (who they cover brilliantly here), vintage psychedelia, classic sixties pop, seventies classic rock, druggy space rock, crunchy, fuzzy, gritty, garagey, loose and still fucking amazing. Puts the current crop of wannabe psychedelic space rockers to shame! We figure fans of The Heads should dig. The cd version includes three bonus tracks which are remixes of songs from the group's previous record, Upwind Of Disaster, Downwind Of Atonement, and offer up more of the same, and will most likely have you desperately searching for a copy of that one too. Good luck! Worth the hunt for sure. Unfortunately, we have a very limited number of these, especially the cds, which we most likely will NOT be able to get more of, it's long out of print, so we took all the copies our distributor had, but they do have more of the lp, and while that's 3 tracks shorter than the cd, it's also cheaper!

MPEG stream: Gates Of Freedom
MPEG stream: Weight Of The Years
MPEG stream: Mortal Blues
MPEG stream: He Said, She Said

Oh those beloved Walkmen, they've been up to some fine goings-on. 'Twas just a few months ago when their latest album proper A Hundred Miles Off was released, and it is a dandy that's grown on us more and more with each listen. Now they've taken a break from their own tunesmithery to issue forth this complete remake of Harry Nilsson and John Lennon's legendary album Pussy Cats. It's clearly a work that the band knows and loves wholeheartedly. The offbeat original was recorded back in '74 during Lennon's infamous months-long "lost weekend" (Unfamiliar with the tale? Well, it's far to much to get into here, you'll just have to do your own research!), and The Walkmen's was recorded during the Hundred Miles Off sessions. Joining the band in this incredibly faithful re-creation of the album are the Make Up's Ian Svenonius (popping in to deliver some of his unmistakable vocals) and Quentin Stoltzfus from Azusa Plane (adding his two-bits worth on "Mucho Mongo / Mt. Elga"). It's unquestionably well executed, if somewhat restrained and downright safe at times. Might not win them new fans, but it'll prolly please their existing ones and maybe bring some new ears to the original album.

MPEG stream: All My Life
MPEG stream: Save The Last Dance For Me

From the sounds of the vocals on The Walkmen's latest full length, Hamilton Leithauser must've taken a giant Bob Dylan / Tom Petty pill. Just kidding, sorta, but his heartclutchingly emotive delivery does bear more than a passing wheezin' resemblance. The band kicks off A Hundred Miles Off with "Louisiana" a breezy tropical number which reminds us of one of Michael Nesmith's post-Monkees offbeat oceanside styled numbers. After that unexpected greeting, it's back to their more familiar rock sounds from the lovely descent of "Emma, Bring Me A Lemon" to the punchy insistence of "Don't Get Me Down (Come On Over Here)". There's lots of terrific swelling jangly guitars throughout the dozen songs which get progressively looser and almost brashly punky as the album progresses. Perhaps that's the subtle influence of producer engineer Don Zientara who's manned the recording board for the likes of Minor Threat, Dag Nasty, Lungfish and Fugazi? Anyhoo, this might seem like a bit of a departure from the tried and true of past Walkmen releases, but heck this is only the second day that we've had the cd here at AQ. In that brief period we've played it three times and with each spin it's hooks have sunken in a little deeper.

MPEG stream: Louisiana
MPEG stream: Emma, Get Me A Lemon

This new disc from NYC's The Walkmen has been selling quite well here at AQ, and it's no surprise really 'cause, well, Bows & Arrows sounds very much like another popular NYC band you may have heard of...The Strokes! To be fair, perhaps these two The Somethings bands have similar influences and the success of The Strokes led the way for The Walkmen to get a deal. So, presumably you've heard the Strokes. Like 'em? Like a hint of Bob Dylan in the singers voice too? Like well crafted, catchy, tried-and-true pop rock n' roll songsmithery? Well then chances are you'll like this album from The Walkmen! (and, even if you're like Andee who claims *not* to like The Strokes, you may still fall for The Walkmen, 'cuz Andee does like them.)

MPEG stream: What's In It For Me
MPEG stream: The Rat

Undeniably best known for his indie pop and rock studio prowess and for being the guitarist of Death Cab For Cutie, Chris Walla steps out of the latter's shadow and does mighty fine at this music making biz all by his lonesome. Mind you his vocal delivery frequently strikes a... how should we put it?... Gibbardian tone? Really it's not surprising though, and we're not complaining or pointing any fingers! Walla's been making music on his own for years (under the moniker Martin Youth Auxiliary). It just hasn't been released until now! In fact, he nestles himself in perfectly at the crossroads of Death Cab For Cutie, Built To Spill and Gin Blossoms. The latter comes across in Field Manual's broadly appealing, 'end of the school year' teen movie quality. Sweetly earnest and boyishly charming, heck, we'll stop just short of saying this is adorable! Will probably please fans of Nada Surf and Weakerthans too!

MPEG stream: Two Fifty
MPEG stream: Everybody On

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY.

Normally we'd scoff at a band releasing three albums in almost the span of a single year, but goddamn if we can't get enough of prolific, psychedelic, noise-pop, garage rockers Wand. And this new one manages to be pretty different than the other two. At least at the outset, sounding like some trippy, folky, psychedelic baroque pop, all sixties lilting jangle, Kinks like vox, but also barraged by weird squiggly FX and some seriously metallic guitar buzz, the second half somehow fusing, dirgey riffage with that paisley poppiness. But it works, and is pretty great. As is the rest of the record, which continues on in that fashion, shedding much of the lysergic freakery and blown out weirdness of the other records, in favor of folky, glammy pop. In fact, on "Broken Sun", the band unfurl a lush expanse of proggy, pompy pop, that explodes into some surprisingly far out (and weirdly dramatic), glam heaviness, replete with some wild guitar shred, and more thick guitar buzz. In a way, 1000 Days mirrors fellow garage rocker Ty Segall's sonic trajectory, this sounding like Wand's poppiest and glammiest record yet, but unlike Segall, it seems Wand have dragged some of their fucked up freaky past along with them, and it makes for a pretty wicked concoction. Sixties psych pop meets heavy glam rock stomp, meets distorto garage, meets freaky folkiness (that at times reminds us a little of the Frogs, which is about the highest compliment we can give!), which all adds up to a record of the year contender for sure. And maybe the record that will finally get Wand the sort of love their pals Segall and Cronin and Dwyer have been enjoying lately!

MPEG stream: Grave Robber
MPEG stream: Lower Order
MPEG stream: Sleepy Dog

First we've heard (other than a split single with Mikal Cronin) from these far out psychedelic garage rockers from LA and fans of outfits/folks like White Fence, Ty Segall, Mikal Cronin, Thee Oh Sees will be wondering how it took them so long to discover these guys. 'Cause the sound is pretty much a perfect mix of fuzzy, jangly crunch, dense, distorted psychedelic swirl, and retro sixties psych pop, the record opening with what is essentially a blast of psych-noise, before blossoming into some impossibly dreamy fuzz pop, the vocals soft focus and almost gently delivered over a bed of rumble and crunch, which appropriately eventually devolves into another squall of psychedelic freakout. Which is precisely how the second track begins, another swirling cloud of spacey squiggles and glitchy squelch, before in comes a crunchy, almost metallic riff accompanied by wild Keith Moon style octopoidal drum splatter, again, a perfect pop song tucked amidst all the howl and skree and noisy druggy trip out, the band seemingly constantly right on the edge between twee pop sugar sonic overload, and total damaged FX drenched psychedelic collapse, but that sweet spot is all theirs, the band claiming it as their own, and navigating it effortlessly, creating what might be our new favorite psych-pop/garage rock record, and is just the sort of record/sound that should, if all the stars align, give the above mentioned garage rock big boys a run for their money. Makes lots of sense that this found a home on Ty Segall's label (you'd easily be forgiven for thinking THIS was in fact the new Ty Segall record), and that Wand mainman Cory Hanson used to play in Mikal Cronin's band!

Record number two from these distortion wrangling, psychedelic-garage rock groovy ghoulies. We loved their last record, Ganglion Reef (released on Ty Segall's God? label), and now their In The Red debut manages to pretty much up the ante on everything we dug about the first one, not the least of which is the insane catchiness and ridiculously hook heavy songsmithery. The production is huge, the guitars thick and buzzy, the songs peppered with all sorts of twisted glitchery and malfunctioning synth freakouts, but really all that's in service of some of the best songs we've heard from this whole crew in ages (and yeah, we're counting Segall, Cronin, Dwyer et al). Golem sounds like some mutated hybrid of Queen, the Rocky Horror Picture Show, seventies glam, psychedelic metal and weirdo synth punk, bombastic and beautiful, the melodies massively earwormy, and not the least bit less catchy for being swaddled in shredding psych guitar leads and epic sonic majesty, all of that, and a total nod to classic pop of the past too, psychedelic Nuggets style shimmer and buzz, a little bit paisley here and there, and that's not to mention the sort of heaviness you might expect from an outfit like Harvey Milk, but here, recast as just another perfect part of Wand's demented psych-garage noise-pop WTF masterpiece.

MPEG stream: The Unexplored Map
MPEG stream: Reaper Invert
MPEG stream: Planet Golem

Two new songs from these groovy psychedelic garage pop noiseniks, the A side launching right into it with a squelchy, grimy, synth-blurt intro, a super distorted lo-fi buzz that ends up running through the whole track, although once the song proper kicks in, it becomes all tangled up in a seriously hooky slab of new wave garage punk, heavy on the fuzz, with a wicked power pop / glam pop vibe, big guitars, soaring vox, a bit like a punk rock Sweet, mining the same sonic territory as pal Ty Segall, before slipping into a cool, spaced out sprawl, all swirly and droney, before a final burst of cosmic garage rock crunch. The flipside finds the band tackling Gary Numan's "M.E.", and if you weren't familiar with the original, it sounds like it could actually be a Wand song proper, fitting perfectly with the garage-wave of the A side, the Numan's already kick ass version getting a grittier, crunchier makeover, but still hewing pretty close to the original. Both sides of this single RULE, and seem to announce in no uncertain terms that Wand might be next in line to follow up the mainstream success of Wand compatriots and cohorts Segall, Cronin and the rest.

MPEG stream: Machine Man
MPEG stream: M.E.