John Convertino and Joey Burns named their band Calexico after a town near the Mexican border, and "Hot Rail," their third album certainly lives up to their name more than ever. Romantic Mexican-style cornet and trumpet alongside low-rider bass (not to mention the homie on the back cover) and super atmospheric reverbed guitar (y'know, the type Chris Isaak overuses). Plus lots of excellent instrumentals where you can hear the band really expanding and maturing their trademark sunbaked sound. They just keep getting better and better! Recommended!
Seeing this Tucson band live is such a true joy! In a dream world, there'd be a Calexico gig at a cozy little venue right around the corner from our store (just like they did a couple years ago at the Make-Out Room... sigh!) once a month (at least!). Alas, the chances of that happening are pretty much zero. So we must catch glimpses every chance we get in between their few and far between big venue concerts. This dvd serves that purpose wonderfully well! It captures fifteen songs from their September 13, 2006 performances for the Austin City Limits television show. Yes, that was right around the time of the release of their awesome fifth full length, the '70s classic pop/rock leaning Garden Ruin (and around the time of the abovementioned intimate show). Hence, there's plenty of songs from that album! Excellent! Yay! Yay! Recommended! (And remember, even Andee's non-show going Mom made it out to see them and was totally blown away!)
Attention all Calexico fans! We're pleased as punch to be one of only two shops in the whole world to have not one but two splendid self-released Calexico discs which are otherwise only available at their shows or on their website. However, please note: we've got very limited quantities of these, so hop to it! Both make fine companions to the band's albums proper.
Never failing to amaze and enthrall, these fellows' live concerts are simply not to be missed. For those who have witnessed their performances, you know exactly what we mean. For those who haven't, what are you waiting for? But in the meantime, here's your opportunity to experience the next best thing. Unlike many live albums that are plagued by poor sound quality and extraneous noise, this cd as well as 2001's Aerocalexico capture the magic and vitality of Calexico beautifully. Crisp recordings, much adoring but not intrusive audience response, and oh yes, the songs! So many favorites like "Sonic Wind" and from The Hot Rail, "The Ride Pt. 2" and "Stray" from The Black Light, a reworking of "Paper Route" from their first album Spoke, an extended rendition of "Crystal Frontier" plus a version of "Lost In Space" (which they originally did with Lisa Germano in OP8). All but three of the thirteen songs were recorded live right here in San Francisco at the Great American Music Hall in January of 2002. the others were from the Roskilde Festival in Denmark and at the Temple Of Music & Art in their hometown Tucson, AZ. 69 minutes.
At first we thought this was going to be just like a regular old greatest hits collection, which would be cool for folks who don't have any of their records, but we soon found out this is in fact a collection of very rare tracks culled from their tour only cd's from the last thirteen years. Which makes this even cooler!!
At this point Calexico doesn't need much introducing as their Southwestern pop, laced with delightful amounts of twang and even mariachi influences, have made them one of the most respected and consistent bands for over a decade. We couldn't be more stoked to get sixteen tracks we had never heard before from a band we love so much. These songs really display all we love about the band. From sprawling instrumentals made to be the soundtrack for your next roadtrip, to earnest and soulful country tinged pop nuggets that will always stand the test of time.
Sadly the massive limited vinyl box-set that included all the tracks from every tour cd that this collection is drawn from has already gone out of print, but at least this disc is still available to quench our endless thirst for the everlasting quality of Calexico.
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Before their full lengths The Hot Rail and The Black Light not to mention the assortment of additional collections they've released, John Convertino and Joey Burns introduced their wonderful band to the world with this album. A rough around the edges southwestern twang treat, it was released back in 1997. Even though they first started playing together '90 during their time in Giant Sand (and also played with Friends Of Dean Martinez), it wasn't until '96 that Calexico took official shape. And they've simply gotten better and better ever since. If you've enjoyed their aforementioned more recent works, then you know how adept and artistic they are, maintaining a very high standard. So it should come as no surprise that this debut is no exception.
This album is awesome. Really. Rich twang and horn wind around organ, accordion and marimba. Yes, it is the super greatness of Joey Burns and John Convertino (of Giant Sand) and their many musical friends. Great desert driving music.
Holy cactus! This much Calexico goodness just might bring a fan to tears... of joy, that is! If you've somehow missed this fabulous, tireless band's live performances (or conversely if you wish to enjoy them again and again in the comfort of your own living room), here's a new dvd that's absolutely bursting with Calexico treasures. Firstly, an hour and a half 20-song set performed in the majestic setting of the Barbican in London, England with guests French chanteuse Francoiz Breut and Arizona's Mariachi Luz de Luna. Their luminous, lush southwestern twang is always richly dynamic and truly captivating, and the band's performance this evening is no exception. Truly from the heart and soul, their music resonates with a passion and a vitality seldom seen in contemporary music. To witness it live is more than a treat. Plus you also get over an hour of bonus stuff: a trio of music videos for their songs "The Black Light", "Ballad Of Cable Hogue" and Crystal Frontier", a documentary about the band called "Border Horse" by Bill Carter, "The Soul Of Mariachi" a reverential mariachi documentary featuring members of Mariachi Luz de Luna shot by Joey Burns, "Shot And Mounted" a European tour montage by James Murray, interview segments with all of the band members, and the cartoon "El Kabong Rides Again" which features one of their songs. Sure do wish we could offer you some visual clips, but you'll just have to trust us on this one. Need we say? Highly recommended.
Ooooh, does that sound like a splendid combination to you or what? Two of our absolute favorites together on one release, performing seven songs penned by Iron & Wine's Sam Beam?! Yes! Needless to say, we've been eagerly anticipating this cd's arrival since we first caught wind of it... and it sure doesn't disappoint. Simply stated, the results are fantastic. Burns 'n' Beam make for an intoxicating, burnished vocal cocktail. We have to say though, we were wondering who invited Mr. Opera Man to sing on the first track "He Lays In The Reins", but then we discovered that it was noneother than Tucson mariachi vocalist and Calexico comrade Salvador Duran. 'Twas a somewhat startling almost comical voice to hear melodramatically crooning over the familiar smoldering twang, but as the initial jolt wore off, it all somehow seemed to fit once again. Just watch the respective Iron & Wine and Calexico legions of fans increase two-fold (or more!).
These German hardcore kids play metal better than most American metalheads. Caliban (along with Heaven Shall Burn) seem to be leading the new wave of metalcore, where almost every trace of hardcore has been eliminated, leaving nothing but METAL. Vent starts with acoustic guitar and howling wind like all great metal records, but by track two Caliban are tearing heads off with a
German metalcore showdown! Two of the best metalcore bands around (both German, and both so metal it's sort of selling them short to not just call them metal) face off on this split cd. Caliban spit out Slayer style west coast death metal complete with
Washington, DC has been a cold and miserable place these days, hmmmm... maybe just a little colder and more miserable than usual. Though in the face of this, musicians from the area have been creating some pretty incredible music over the years. These DC'ers, Calibos, harness the energy of their surroundings and make some rockin' tracks in the vein of Sonic Youthian fuzz. The last track strays away from the rest of Me And The Window, into amazing deep-funk bass territory alongside a strolling and thoughtful guitar melody. It is awesome! Trans Am's live sound engineer, Nihkil Ranade, plays drums and also recorded the album in his Arlington, VA home-studio.
Their live set is a ton heavier and more distorted than this cd, but also worth checking out. Now, I know some of you reading this online live around there, so from time to time these guys play at The Galaxy Hut, one of the DC Metro area's night-time saving graces. So go check em out! Beware, they are L O U D!!!... Awesome, but skull-crushingly loud.
Califone have always been a tough band to pin down, with roots in mighty alt country indie legends Red Red Meat, Califone took RRM's brood and twang, and updated it a bit, expanding the instrumentation, adding loops, electronics, studio trickery, even soul and funk on past records.
All My Friends Are Funeral Singers, like past installments of Califone's ongoing and ever mutating musical saga, conjures up a gorgeous darkness, a softly brooding twang flecked creep, with a definite nod to the modern. At some points it almost evokes how we might imagine an alt country Portishead might sound. But RRM frontman Tim Rutili still has one of the most gorgeous voices, weathered and worn, definitely a case of one of those voices that could sing the phonebook, and the minute he sings, especially over a ragged steel string guitar, it's totally transformative, gives us the same sort of feeling when we hear one of those classic Uncle Tupelo tracks, or again, any of those timeless Red Red Meat jams.
While there are plenty of experimental moments, All My Friends might just be the most old school and classic sounding Califone record in a while, lots of acoustic guitar, plenty of stripped down countrified grooves, and those vocals... So great. Been listening to this like crazy!
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This may in fact be another eponymous release from Califone and not titled "Chicago" inspite of that word's prominent position on the front cover. Anyway, this five track cdep is the second release from Red Red Meat's Tim Rutili of front-porch acoustic slow-mo bluegrass melodicism spiced up with studio experimentation not unlike Loftus or even Souled American.
These recordings took place late last year at Block Cinema in Evanston, IL. "Deceleration" is Califone's music for films. Of the two live sets that make up this collection, one is for the film loops of AQ-pal Jeff Economy and Carolyn Faber and the second is
This is the second installment in Califone's music for animated and experimental films series on Perishable Records. You might recall Deceleration One from early last year. This cd features soundtracks for three films: "Francis" an animated work by Brent Green (track 1), "Fireworks (No Mail Days Are Sad Days)" by Jeff Economy (tracks 2-4), and Alla Nazimova's adaptation of the Oscar Wilde play "Salome" from 1922 (tracks 5-16). As opposed to their more familiar languid twang, here they frequently venture into more fragmented experimental noise soundscapes with 'scenes' shifting swiftly and quite drastically. Overall, it's a very percussive and textural affair, but it still retains that distinct Califone somberness too, that is, right up until the twelfth track "She Dances" in which they slide into an almost funky slippery groove. As we mentioned last year in regards to the first volume, Califone's film scores certainly pique your interest about the films themselves, but they also succeed as captivating listens on their own.
MPEG Download: "Fireworks III" [/audio/califonefireworks3.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Fireworks III" [/audio/califonefireworks3.m3u]
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Another gorgeously dark and introspective trawl through the dark recesses of our souls from Chicago's Califone. Apparently based on Califone frontman Tim Rutili's recurring dream of some sort of bird-woman apparition, Heron King Blues expands Califone's musical vision of lugubrious, funereal twang, no-depression strum, and glacial drones. Muted and spacious, with Rutili's whispered warble over a dense backdrop of ghostly country quite reminiscent of Souled American or Scott Tuma. The big surprise this time around is the surprising addition of funk/soul to Califone's moody darkness. Strange but true. Bloopy and almost funky bass lines support brief snatches of bouncy blue eyed soul amidst the bleak blues-scapes, but thankfully this funk has been dragged through a swamp of folk detritus, keeping it from freaking out those of us who never expected to use the words funky and Califone in the same sentence. Just imagine Califone mixed with a little Greg Dulli/Twilight Singers or Lambchop. Not necessarily a bad thing, just unexpected.
Slippin' through wide mood swings, this new Califone album keeps the listener on unsteady ground. As the title suggests, there's elements that catch hold and before you know it you're pulled you under. However you just might find it to be rather invitingly unsettling. Mainman Tim Rutili (Red Red Meat) and co. go from creeping, murky gruff melancholia ("One") into much more fast paced yet still smoky brooding ("Your Golden Ass") and onwards into more churning swamp bluesiness ("When Leon Sphinx Moved Into Town"). Actually this sits quite nicely next to the newest Calexico album (and it will if you file your cds alphabetically!). Strategically placed distorted sounds, laidback banjo pickin' and some light percussion keeps things from completely sinking into the shadowy depths. Very very nice!
MPEG Download: "Your Golden Ass" [/audio/califoneyourgolden.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Your Golden Ass" [/audio/califoneyourgolden.m3u]
Tim Rutili, formerly of Chicago group Red Red Meat, conjures up a dusty, sunbaked, introspective Sunday morning of a record. Full of lush acoustic guitars and piano, this is not, rest assured, an annoying singer/songwriter record; it instead sounds like a
Though the album title conjures images of the dental variety, there's nothing of the toothy nor toothsome sort here. And although this is a new Califone album, the music actually harkens back to the warm, earthy sound of Ben Massarella and Tim Rutili's former band Red Red Meat much more so than Califone. Indeed it's more oriented towards the song than the soundtrack, and what fine songs they are! Some of them haunt while some others lope and some groove a bit. And y'know what else? Some of us even think songs like "A Chinese Actor" and "Our Kittens See Ghosts" sound more like a Beck album than the new Beck album. Strange, eh? The band also does a wonderful cover of Psychic TV's "The Orchids" which apparently was a central influential force on this album as a whole. Recommended.
The follow-up to last year's "Roomsound" is not quite as immediately captivating as its predecessor. It definitely took me a few listens to be drawn in. Still very folk-inflected and off-kilter, but perhaps a bit more subdued. Yet, it's often considerably
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The return of Chicago's instrumental hypno-psych-kraut rock groovers Cave. Hot on the heels of the recent single/cd-r combo on Trensmat (now out of print, so don't ask) come two more stretched out jamz that manage to push all our buttons: repetitive, psychedelic, heavy, hypnotic... remember the track "Butthash" from the 7"? That we described thusly:
"A bouncy groover, with swirly synths, caffeinated rhythms, and buried vocals, a bit angular, a little new wave, equal parts krautrock, and spaced out shimmer, but all tangled up and kaleidoscopic."
Well, that was a 'mellowed out' remix of the first Cave track right here. So now take that description, add heavier guitars, all sorts of synths, howled distorted vocals, pounding drums, and wind it all up into a relentless killer groove that would do Circle or Pharaoh Overlord proud, kicking out the jams like Wooden Shjips on 45. The second track is more of the same, krauty and psychedelic, drums locked into a super tight rhythm, the guitars locked right in too, keyboards offering up all kinds of tripped out counterpoint, and more fuzzy effects drenched vocals soaring over the top, not so much singing as sort of howling along, the whole thing getting more and more fuzzy and distorted as the song progresses.
Cave share this 10" split with California Raisins, who may just have one of the WORST band names ever, but that doesn't stop them from kicking up a serious racket themselves. Hailing from Columbia, Missouri (where Cave called home before Chicago), California Raisins rock similar territory as Cave, the core of their sound a tightly wound guitar / synth hypnogroove, the difference being that CR are way more of a noisy, punky ROCK band, with much looser and wilder drums, and a vocalist whose wail is WAY up in the mix, his vocals heavily distorted and reverbed, turning what could have been a sort of psychedelic krautrock into more of a tripped out hypno garage stomp, plenty of Stooges-y swagger, Brainbombs-y pummel, but occasionally wrapped around super hypnotic krautrock style grooves or spread out over buzzy synth drenched crunch. Lo-fi and distorted and heavy and noisy and garage-y and a pretty good match for Cave's more looped sounding kraut psych grooves.
Packaged in hand screened silver and black sleeves (screened by the dudes in Cave) with a photocopied insert, and a cd (not a cd-r) featuring all the songs from the 10"!
Heavy Hendrix-y early '70s psych from the Spirit dude. Pretty cool.
Call And Response sure have got a knack for writing the good time pop tunes. With its warm, bright and slightly funky instrumentation (is that inspired by the Jackson Five, Free Design or perhaps both?) and C.A.R.'s not-so-secret weapon Simone Rubi's lovely lilting vocals, their new six song ep Tiger Teeth is another perfect soundtrack for rollerskatin' in the park. Maybe a bit edgier (well, at least by C.A.R. standards) than their smooth, glorious last full length Winds Take No Shape -- they even venture into the dub zone on the final song -- but no less sweet.
With their debut self-titled album, Call And Response hopped from one label to the next (namely Kindercore and Emperor Norton), and looks like they've hopped one more time for their sophomore effort -- landing them on Badman Records. In the three years that have passed since that first full length, they've grown leaps and bounds in the best possible way. Still very sweet, but more like honey rather than sugar. Warm, golden and smooth as opposed to bright and crunchy. They're considerably less peppy, and much more plush and sophisticated, more wistful and lilting. Simone Rubi's dreamy vocals are as easy on the ears as ever, and at times are very reminiscent of Laetitia Sadier of Stereolab or Bebel Gilberto (or her mother Astrud). Winds Take No Shape is truly radiant from start to finish, but C.A.R. do save the best for last. The final song "Silhouette" is the loveliest of dreamboats.
Is it just me, or does it seem like there's a West Coast soft rock / easy listening pop wave a-buildin'? Those genre tags might seem like 'bad words' to you, but not in the case of bands such as Vancouver's Fancey (Todd from the New Pornographers) and Young & Sexy, and SF's Call And Response. Well okay, that's only three bands... we're not talking tsunami-sized wave yet. However, if the high standards set by these bands continue to blossom, then pop fans will surely be welcoming more in the similar vein. That said, this album has the potential to appeal to an even broader audience than their debut. Heck, we might even say that this is music you, your mom and your grandmom can love.
The debut album that's been building this Bay Area group quite a hefty buzz around town. And if plentiful pop pleasures with sunshine-y harmonies are your thing, you'll be buzzing madly as well. Although photos have presented them as sorta Elastica-esque
Record number two from this Shadow Ring offshoot, and it's another strange sonic trip, the framework in some ways similar to the Shadow Ring, in that the songs here are droned out and drifty, with the occasional vocals delivered in a haunting deep spoken word (or occasionally a hushed female croon), but the sounds in CBTG are much more dreamy and drifty, still a bit twisted and atonal in places, but the record starts with a surprisingly lush and warm bit of almost new agey soundscapery, before slipping into a short stretch of kosmische synth shimmer, it's not until a few tracks in that things begin to darken, the sound turning a bit more grim, a gurgling electronic dronescape, rumbling beneath those aforementioned hauntingly intoned spoken vocals, the whole thing peppered with sci-fi squiggles and shards of synth buzz, the A side finishing off with a sonic bookend, a reprise of the opener, another bit of warm ambient swirl, which quickly gives way to a bit of hazy synth-folk drift, that sounds a bit like Fastest / Xynfonica, the sounds slightly atonal, the melodies subtly sour, which is balanced by the sweetly crooned female vox that hover ghostlike above.
The flipside flits restlessly from epic synth prog to murky droney creep, occasionally slipping into long sprawls of low end shimmer, laced with overlapping voices, and hazy washed out melodies, bits of skittery IDM electronics surfacing here and there, and still more hauntingly intoned vox, culminating in what has to be the strangest track on the record, the weirdly riffy, dirgey, droney closer, "Passage Of Arms", a muddy stretch of muted tinny riffage, like some sort of transistor radio alien doom, the vocals sung (at least compare to the rest of the record), and while this might be the most 'rock' thing CBTG have ever done, fear not, it's still appropriately weirdly twisted and woozily warped into the perfect coda for what was already and beautifully baffling collection of sound.
This is indeed a weird one, even from the already extra weird Shadow Ring camp. Call Back The Giants is the solo project of SR keyboardist Tim Goss, and on this, the debut lp from Goss and his CBTG, he weaves an ever shifting landscape of warped keyboard drones, twisted new age drift, fractured late night ambience, creepy processed vocals, and blissed out psychedelia.
Gloomy and otherworldly, some sort of soundtrack for another world, another time, another dimension, low tones wheeze and creep and slither, blossoming into Technicolor expanses of hazy, gauzy ambience, rife with fragmented melodies, slowed down voices, swirling FX and heart-of-the-sun kosmische solar shimmer.
The title track takes the retro futuristic sci-fi synthscapes of Zombi and Majeure and pulls them apart until they sound like a melting VHS tape of some seventies British science program, and of course, that's not counting the bizarre male and female vocals, both drawled and druggy, and distorted, mostly blotting out the sounds beneath them.
The rest of the record unfurls similarly, slipping from woozy, Dr. Who style synthscapery, all warbly and woozy, to hazy, almost shoegazy glitched out rainbowy shimmer, to murky underwater electronica, laced with sing songy synth pulses, to ominous electronic flecked faux string lofi MIDI sounding dirges, to 8 bit style primitive keyboard majesty, all of those various shades of fantastical whatthefuck, made even more twisted by the various vocals, mush mouthed mumble one second, deep moody croon the next, almost falsetto sounding warble the next, and eventually to that very recognizable Shadow Ring style spoken word.
Weird record for sure, but Shadow Ring fans will be in heaven, and folks who like tripped our electronic dronemusic and otherworldly new age avant ambience, or hell, just plain far out (but still mysterious and melodic) weirdness, then this is definitely worth checking out!
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Are Calla bringin' the ol' slouchy '90s college cardigan back into fashion? From the sounds of their latest full length Collisions, it sure seems so! Here come those familiar moody-mopey indie rock driven by slack'n'slouchy heavily effected guitars and emotive male vocals. Will you welcome them? Some songs follow such a predictable path that we were singing the guitar lines before we'd even heard 'em. A lot like early Radiohead, but also falling somewhere between the current sounds of Coldplay and Interpol in terms of music laden with achingly heartfelt sentiments and lush rock grandeur -- particularly on songs such as the album's third track "This Better Go As Planned". Which means that after a few years of indie rock kids hitting the dancefloor, we might be seeing a bunch of them reassuming that ol' stationary head-nodding stance when Calla come through town.
Calla has found its home in New York, but the heart still longs for the dusty lands of their birthplace -- Texas. Calla is a subtly dynamic and drunkenly theatrical trio that specializes in slow building rock crescendos that have often warranted comparisons to Morricone, though they are far too American and indie-rock to really acquire such a parallel. Think instead a Calexico playing Bedhead songs with a gravel throated Steve Von Till of Neurosis singing. A fine product from Michael Gira's Young God Records.
Calla continue along on the course they set on their last album Collisions, retooling their sound into something absolutely befitting their label home Beggars Banquet. Indeed, they sit all comfy next to young label mates Film School and The Early Years who've also molded their jangle/distortion guitar sounds after their late '80s / early '90s heady brood rock forefathers such as Bauhaus and their members' numerous solo projects, The Cure, and Radiohead. Very well executed, albeit probably nothing you haven't heard already. Strength In Numbers counts up to a solid baker's dozen lushly produced numbers clenched with tormented angst and mournful aches. A standout track comes halfway through the album. "Bronson" takes the band slightly away from the tried and true into more rhythmically complex and intriguing terrain.
Calla is a band that is pleading for redemption, but they don't entirely want to give up their tough guy / combatively masculine take on existentialism. Witnessed with singer Aurelio Valle's gruff delivery and his bleak lyricism, this formula of the rock singer holding onto the mythological trappings of being a rebellious bad-ass while seeking favor with the Lord is, of course, a very powerful and seductive image that parallels the individualistic ideals of the self-made American. Valle doesn't really offer any insights into these ideals; if anything, he runs the risk of falling into the self-pitying cliches of those ideals. However, the music, not the lyrics, is where Calla finds their true calling. Each of their songs on "Televise" brilliantly employ simple rhythm section progressions that recall a darker version of Calexico's gunslingin' swagger. On top of this, Calla's understatedly hypnotic arrangements, driven by high-lonesome guitar melodies and crescendos, appear as skeletal eviscerations of the epic riffs previously mined by Mogwai, Tarentel, and Godspeed! You Black Emperor.
Calla's compositional attempts at theatricality through rock minimalism sometimes seem a little forced, and the nihilistic depth-charges may be a tad too predictable in their ghosty references/resemblances to 16 Horsepower, Nick Cave, Mark Lanegan, Steve Von Till's solo albums, and of course Johnny Cash, but Calla is one step away from being a really great band; and when they realize that Valle should hold his tongue once in a while and let the music do the talking, they will arrive at greatness. But in the meantime, "Televise" makes for a very good, albeit slightly flawed album.
Calla's re-issued debut shows a hell of lot more sophistication than their recent output would have suggested of which they were capable. This New York trio of Texan transplants offer something of a psychic transmutation of their former desolate landscape into the gritty claustrophobia of Gotham City. While their recent albums have shown some occasional songwriting swagger with bad-ass revisitations of 16 Horsepower, The Gun Club, and early Nick Cave, Calla's debut was a sprawling deconstruction of 'the song'. For the majority of the record, shadowy drones and windswept atmospherics mingle with quietly rendered fragments of forgotten country tunes, post-rock hymns, and incidental music to some lost John Ford film. However, time after time, Calla ruptures these incredibly restrained passages with comparitively explosive, if deliberately slow blasts of paranoid yet beautiful guitar leads which sound like the perfect marriage between Roland S. Howard and Ennio Morricone. The resulting loud / quite dynamics parallel the post-rock greats of Slint, A Minor Forest, and Mogwai, but within a completely different arena. This is a pretty amazing record, even more so for a debut recording.
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Another indiepop venture for the UK label otherwise known for innovative elctronica releases. This is dark electronics fused with twee pop sentiments, for fans of Broadcast or Smog.
It sometimes seems a bit unfair to review a new Bill Callahan record right when it comes out, as he has made a career, both in his previous incarnation as Smog and solo, out of making deep rooted albums that really reveal themselves and enter your subconscious often only after many repeated listens.
To us, that's always the sign of a special songwriter, never being about the cheap easy route, but instead creating songs that you know will live in your life for so many years to come. With Apocalypse, there is no doubt this is another set of songs from Callahan that will sound as great years from now, as, well, now. With dark and moody undertones coming together with Callahan's strong voice, Apocalypse is an album that requires you to give it your full attention. It also highlights the twang and folk roots Callahan is so great at melding into something that always sounds forward thinking and not just an easy nod to the past.
While Will Oldham still gets more attention and praise as one of the best singer songwriters around, we still think that Callahan's output has maintained a level of excellence throughout the years, and makes him one of our favorite indie rock songwriters today.
The cover sticker says "Dream River in dub". Yes, you read that right. This is indeed a dub version of last year's popular album by indie troubadour Bill "Smog" Callahan, Dream River! Dub version, as in, remixed in the Jamaican stylee... stripped down, stretched out, massively echo effected. Not unlike the 'chopped and screwed' concept with rap albums. Callahan's deep voice still sounds solid and grounded though, while everything else around it gets totally stoned. Less country, more beachy.
Actually, we never even reviewed Dream River. We didn't really need to. They sold just fine. You probably got one, right? This, though, we're writing up 'cause it's a bit of an oddity, a surprise (though Drag City has previously brought us dub versions of OM, but that doesn't seem so strange). And it works, remarkably well. Callahan does his best Lee Hazlewood impression amidst the mellowed out music, but the gentle dub edit makes his delivery seem more laconic and tends to turn his lyrics in the direction of non-sequitur. Or maybe they were before, but it's hard to remember. We're feeling so... spacey.
Seriously, even those of us here who aren't the the biggest Bill Callahan fans (which almost everybody else seems to be!), found this to be a very enjoyable listen. But then again, we think there should be dub versions of EVERYTHING.
Subtitled: The Collected Lyrics Of Bill Callahan.
Not really gonna "review" this, 'cause it would be like reviewing just the lyrics to 70 different Bill Callahan/Smog songs - that's what this is, a collection of Callahan's lyrics from over the years, accompanied by his own simple and evocative ink-wash drawings, 116 of them, outnumbering the songs.
Now, of course, sometimes rock lyrics do not equal poetry and don't belong in a book, but Callahan's we think just might make the grade, fans will know for sure, and that's really who this is for, after all. And his art is nice too.
Perhaps, reading through, even the uninitiated could become fans, curious to hear just how such lines as "And though you were / just a little squirrel / you understood every word" and "But hey / what would my wife say / what would my wife say / if I were married" are delivered on record.
This 196 page paperback is definitely something for every serious Callahan-fan to have on their night table.
There is something so intimate about Bill Callahan's music. Whether recording under his name or his old Smog moniker, his songs evoke ghosts of memories, intense emotions, and such literate insights into the human condition. So a live record from Callahan actually makes a lot of sense. In some ways it seems strange to see him play in a hall full of people, as you want his songs sung directly to you in your own world. Rough Travel For A Rare Thing allows just that, a spot on live performance captured on tape and made for your private listening pleasure, on your turntable alone or with that special someone. Callahan's songs have a way of always cutting to the core, there is no questioning his integrity and singular voice. He's a story teller, a musician, and a force of nature. There is something commanding and immediate about his voice. In many ways he is like this generation's Leonard Cohen, with the ability to create songs that are both sensual, unnerving, sometimes bleak and always raw in their emotion. For this show, he plays songs from his Smog past and from what would be his first record under his own name. Stripped down and to the point, showing that his songs can be stripped down to a sparse statement that can evoke so much feeling. A total must have for Callahan/Smog fans.
In a time when so many male singers are going for the falsetto pot of gold, or the whining indie warble, or the muffled too-cool-for-school barley audible mumble, Bill Callahan's deep and clear voice rings so true, with more strength and truth than ever. This is Callahan's second album released under his own name, after dropping the Smog moniker, but no doubt longtime Smog fans will still love these darkly poetic songs.
While his last album featured some of his sunniest and dare we say maybe even happiest moments ever set to tape, Sometimes I Wish... finds Callahan in more of a solemn and subdued mood, but what makes Callahan such a special songwriter is that even when his songs are sad or forlorn, they are never that simply defined. The songs here are lush and subtly epic, soaring with a heightened level of story telling, this is immaculate songcraft, all the various elements woven delicately into Callahan's unique soundworld. The music is at once immediate and intense, the sort of sound that gives you goosebumps, but also abstract and free, allowing the listener to wander freely, freeing your mind, drifting through memories, lingering desires and undying devotion.
After pruning his band name's parentheses on their last album A River Ain't Too Much To Love [(Smog) became Smog], Bill Callahan emerges from the cover of Smog-ness completely with his first album under his own name proper. While not a huge departure from his tried and true, the warm, earthy Woke On A Whaleheart does offer some things a little different from his past releases -- most notably more straightforward pop elements and an overall more welcoming and accessible sound. Plus that's not even talking about the album cover which is a startlingly unexpected candy colored collaged explosion which makes the release an easy victim of mistaken identity with, oh, maybe something by Lightning Bolt, !!! or Black Dice. Yup, that's a little strange. Needless to say, the assault on the eyes makes for a stark contrast with his gentle on the ears, low-key Americana music. The sound of his deep, heartache twinged voice is always a comfort. At times on this album, it dips down into the depths of Howe Gelb territory, but in a far less cryptic manner. Thumbs up.
This new album from Calling All Monsters immediately seemed familiar to us here at AQ, and not just because one of the band members is dear Matthew Troy formerly of the raucous yet sweet Bay Area popsters and AQ pals Trackstar (for whom he was one of the two chief songwriters). Although the album gets things rolling with a surprisingly aggressive number that recalled the fist-pumpin' pop punk of Rancid and NOFX (not a bad thing AT ALL!), that bravado soon gives way to the sounds that seem more characteristic of Troy, leaning more towards early to mid nineties Dinosaur Jr and Sonic Youth. The Traps That Work Best makes for a logical progression and development from the fuzzy, feisty songs he wrote for Trackstar's last album Lion Destroyed The Whole World (2002). So nice.
After the big This Heat boxset bombshell dropped last year, and made everybody fall in love with that seminal, '70s experimental UK prog-punk band all over again, we expect that there's even more folks now who'll be stoked that this collection of This Heat drummer Charles Hayward's quite excellent '80s output with his band Camberwell Now has been reissued, in a brand new deluxe digipack format. That's right, if you want more This Heatishness beyond the Out Of Cold Storage boxset, you want this!
Recorded circa 1982-1985, the fifteen songs compiled here (from Camberwell Now's three vinyl releases plus a cassette comp track) are pretty darn essential for any fan of This Heat, featuring as they do one of the most important components of the This Heat sound, Hayward's signature drumming style. You'll know it when you hear it. His thin, fragile vocals and poetic, politically-charged lyrics are also a significant part of the picture, with the other members of Camberwell Now also making significant contributions to their sound, which incorporated tapes, field recordings, autoharp, ethnic instruments, kazoo, keyboards, etc. A potent mix of energetic rhythms and dreary melodies. For fans of This Heat (obviously), though this is less hard-hitting and more song-based than some of their work. Fans of '80s Robert Fripp may also feel at home with portions of this. But it also occurs to us that there are some recent artists that seem to share something (just something) with Camberwell Now, like Dean Roberts and, perhaps especially, Richard Youngs.
Not only is this new edition cheaper than the one we had before, it's in nicer packaging, with extra notes and photos and artwork, and has also been remastered by the band. Yay!
Third album from experimental guitarist and synthesist Ken Camden, whose dreamy and drifting solo work is a such a departure in mood, rhythm and tone from his group work in monolithic mopegazers Implodes that we didn't know right away they were even connected.
It's taken some time to catch up, but where Implodes has drug us through the darkness (ever so willingly), Camden, through his unique attention to sonic detail, sends us floating slowly through the light. Using guitar, modular synths and voice processing, Camden delivers an ambient excursion through texture and mood, repetitive forms, chordal clusters and harmonic tonal shifts that are pensively alien, yet serene and ponderously resonant. Fans of library records, sci-fi soundtracks, and cerebral new age music will find lots to love here!
German band Camera definitely belong on the Bureau B label, who have brought us quite a few killer krautrock reissues over the years (including the recent Record Of The Week by Gunter Schickert). But - this isn't a reissue! Camera are a current krautrock outfit, apparently with predilection for performing impromptu shows in public locations, and this is their debut. A 3-piece based in Berlin, Camera are modern-day upholders of the krautrock aesthetic, heavily influenced by both Neu! and Harmonia especially. And in fact, they've earned the blessing of their heroes, having played live in collaboration with Michael Rother (Neu!, Harmonia, etc.) and Dieter Moebius (Cluster, Harmonia, etc.).
This debut recording features eight tracks of live-in-the-studio, semi-improvised, mostly instrumental jams that indeed "radiate" the classic krautrock vibe. The juggernaut of a first track, "E-Go", leaps out of the gate with an intense pulsating "motorik" beat and heavy waves of distortion, churning forth like something by aQ-faves Circle or Salvatore at their most krautrocky. Shifting moods, that's followed by "Villon", much softer and prettier, like one of Can's quieter moments. Then, on "Ausland", Camera whips up another energetic motorik groove. The next track, "Lynch", is the disc's longest, and finds Camera delving into some spaced-out, kosmiche synth serenity, laced with skittering beats and sinister, wind-swept electronics. But then, after eleven minutes, Camera are back to the amped-up throb with "Utopia Is", another juggernaut (after a bit of a slow-build, that is)...
And so it goes, the rest of the disc following suit, providing more quite authentic tick-tock motorik beats and shwooshing guitar/synth soundscapes like it's 1974 all over again. Krautrock fans will for sure hear echoes of a lot of the greats: Neu!, Can, Cluster, Tangerine Dream, Harmonia, Agitation Free, La Dusseldorf, etc. And anyone into other kraut-loving bands of today, like Circle, Cave, Wooden Shjips, and Hills among 'em, should check this out forthwith. Truly, for any fan of hypno-rock bliss new or old, it's hard to find fault with Camera's worshipful, enthusiastic emulation of their krautrock forebears; if anything, there's something almost a little too perfect about this, in that a krautrock band from back in the day would probably have colored outside the lines a bit more, whereas Camera kinda plays it safer, sticking close to the motorik formula. But, they do it REALLY well and we're definitely digging it!
By the way, there is a vinyl version of this (which comes with a cd too) but our supplier was out this week; we should have more of that in again before our next list, though.
We're always talking about "modern day krautrock" bands - Circle, Hills, The Oscillation, Cloudland Canyon, 3 Leafs, Mugstar, Von Himmel, the list goes on and on - but Berlin's mostly-instrumental Camera, a band known for impromptu shows in public spaces, has a better claim than most to the "modern day krautrock" tag, 'cause of course they are actually from Germany! Not only that, but they've previously played/collaborated with members of Neu! and Harmonia, among others. Funnily enough, though, the press material for this highly anticipated 2nd album of theirs tries to claim that "Camera are not seeking to emulate the sound of older Krautrock bands" - that any sonic similarities to those bands from the '70s are merely coincidental, the result of a shared methodology of music making, we're to suppose. And then it says "You can still call it Krautrock, if you must." Guess what? We must! It is, and really good, too.
Remember I Was Carbon Dioxide (strange title, that) naturally kicks off with a motorik beat, opener "From The Outside" gradually adding shimmering tendrils of synthesizer to what the drummer is laying down, building up to something both lovely and well-muscled. The next track, "Parhelion", takes a similar, uber-hypnotic approach, much more moody though, spaced out and plodding - "slo-mo-motorik" we'd call it. The hissing synth swoosh and echo-effected guitar with which this is layered makes for a thing of beauty, the use of distortion reminding us of some early Salvatore stuff, to cite another "modern day krautrock" fave of ours. That track could lumber forever onwards and we'd be ok with it, but eventually it does come to an end, and the next one, "Synchron", ups the tempo, lightens the mood, more melodic and sunshiney, but the thumping beat is still motorik, and gnarly noises do arise from the shoegazing guitars. Real nice - how they can suggest that Neu! and Harmonia and early Kraftwerk aren't being consciously "emulated" here is crazy! Next, the skree-laden, garage-kraut attack of "Roehre" features guest saxophone doing some free jazz damage to its HEAVY, propulsive stomp.
There's eight more tracks on this album, each in possession of its own special charms. And while many of these tracks mesmerize with their motorik beats (the rhythm just grabs a hold of you and you can't resist it!!), it's not all purely that, and a track like "Ozymandias" works its magic through eerie, droning textures of psychedelic moodiness, shimmering sounds from guitar and keys, the drumming taking a backseat, its skitter just another texture. Most of the tracks bring both rhythm and texture together, in potent aural doses of moody, druggy, majestic krautrock ritual. Fantastic stuff.
Available on cd or vinyl, the latter of which comes with a cd of itself.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
