What we have here is a fantastic -- and to our ears widely appealing -- record which hopefully won't disappear underneath most folks' radar like their first one did. Aereogramme are a four-piece from Scotland, and even though this comparison might sound a wee bit too convenient, it is nonetheless true that they sound like the perfect distillation of fellow Scots Mogwai and the Delgados! They have the fragile delicacy and pure indie-rockness of Delgados (and Death Cab for Cutie, especially in the vocals), but you know how just when the sweetness is so sad and heartbreaking, you want something to scream, that's gonna mirror the despair and howl the pain? That's when Aereogramme lashes out with crashing metallic noisiness a la Mogwai -- although we think it sounds more authentically heavy like the Melvins or a Hydrahead metalcore band. And it *really* works as an album: the dynamic changes are not unpleasantly distracting; they're as skillfully executed as on Radiohead's "OK Computer", and the climaxes come exactly when you most need them too. There are also judiciously wielded violins and cello soaring above the warm guitars, some genuinely death metal, hoarse vocal roars, and guitar parts that could be from an authentic '70s prog or metal album. At one moment the tight discipline of Shellac, the next the delicate melodies of Sparklehorse, and then some sheer black metal creepiness...wow. Some might call their style a gimmick, though we can't when it's so satisfying and brilliantly executed!
So this record should appeal to fans of all of the bands mentioned above, plus to fans of bands that are doing similar dynamic genre blends like emo-metalcore outfits Poison the Well, From Autumn To Ashes, and Cave In. Indeed, Aerogramme's debut "A Story In White" -- a favorite around here -- made good use of the same dynamics, but rather than simply mixing up their indie-rock with some surprisingly metal moments as on that disc, Aereogramme here sound like a genuine hybrid...like maybe it's the other way around, they're a metalcore band toying with utterly gorgeous indie-pop songwriting.
Hurrah! The much anticipated third album from our favorite world-weary pop angels has arrived! Very '60s Brill Building girl group style production but with less naive, sugarcoated lyrical sentiments. Sooooo sssplendid! Beautifully recorded, with layer upon layer of beautiful melodies and instrumentation. This band really does just get better and better. Their recordings have the hugeness and details reminiscent of Phil Spector or Joe Meek. And the use of reverb is flawless. The soft echoey lovely vocals just melt my heart and the songs are so individually rad that they stand on their own and apart from each other. This record is softer and sadder in some ways, perhaps their darkest work to date. Less poppy or optimistic than previous songs I've heard. I really can't take it off my stereo at home. Absolutely, totally and completely recommended!!!
What could be more 'necro' than the debut album "The Codex Necro" from the truly disturbed, demented and totally necro UK black metal outfit Anaal Nathrakh?? You know, the ridiculously-hard-to-find black metal masterpiece we raved about last year? Well, how about their demos? Thus this disc is appropriately titled, as it contains both of AN's early demo tapes, plus some equally necro bonus tracks. If you loved "The Codex Necro" like we did, you'll be happy to know that "Total Fucking Necro" is just as good -- in fact some folks think it's better. It's a bit less bizarre than their full length, being much more melodic and traditional in the Norse style. Which is not a bad thing. There's definitely some major Mayhem worship going on here (witness the TWO Mayhem covers) as is evidenced by the distinctly "De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas" sound. But even then, their very own cult-necro-blackened weirdness is quite present as well. Demos, side projects (Frost, Mistress): it seems these guys are necro geniuses and can do no wrong -- we await their upcoming "When Fire Rains Down From The Sky" ep with grim delight...
NB. And for those of you who dropped the ball first time around, we've just managed to get a few copies of "The Codex Necro" back in as well!
This is Eric Oblivian (Oblivians), Jay Reatard (Reatards, Lost Sounds), and King Louie Bankston (Persuaders, King Louie One Man Band, Royal Pendletons). They got together to record an album of songs they had worked up in their individual "bad times" outside of their regular bands. All three met in New Orleans for one day of practice and one day of recording. Totally fuzzed out fucked up lo-fi madness. Punky and Stoogesy, a wild and chaotic messy party.
Mickey Baker is best known as half of the duo Mickey & Sylvia, but did you know that this formidable R&B / rock 'n roll guitarist enjoyed a varied and eclectic career playing sessions on such hits as "Money Honey", "Shake Rattle and Roll", "Mama He Treats Your Daughter Mean"? And then in 1959 he released his first solo album, an all instrumental gem featuring four Baker originals as well as his singular renditions of "Autumn Leaves", the Third Man Theme, "Night and Day", etc. The wildest guitar record ever made? Well, for 1959, yeah okay maybe. The guitar tone is clean yet gritty, the reverb sparkles. Really good!
Teetering between a touching personal vision about the gravest of existential themes and sentimental pathos, William Basinksi has overloaded the context of "Disintegration Loops" with plenty of cultural references dealing in grandiose melancholia, including 9/11, the World Trade Center, the death of English poet Thomas Chatterton, the prosaic dreaminess of early 20th century American composers, the death of antiquated technologies, etc. This overload of metaphoric sadness and loss which is clearly stated well before a single note of music emanates from the CD doesn't leave much room for personal interpretation. Simply put you must feel sad when listening to this album.
To be fair, the effect of witnessing the collapse of the World Trade Center has been traumatic to us all, and observing that horrific spectacle from the roof of his Brooklyn apartment undoubtably scarred Basinksi. For better or for worse, Basinski used "Disintegration Loops" as his personal soundtrack for the WTC collapse, playing this composition throughout the night as the fires burned and ash spewed into the air. The piece itself intrinsically deals with decay, as it came about because Basinski had discovered an old tape loop, a rendering of a subtle arpeggiated countermelody from lush orchestral deep horns and strings, that he made some two decades ago and decided to archive the piece digitally -- during that process, Basinki found that the oxide of the tape loop was gradually flaking off, leaving unreadable gaps on the loop itself. Hence, "Disintegration Loops". Over this 63 minute recycling of sound, the orchestration is eventually all but lost amidst the terse pops and a ubiquitous wash of reverb.
Oh yes, this album is gorgeous; but I can't shake the feeling that I've been manipulated Steven Spielberg-style into granting an emotional weight to a piece of art more through a tautological argument rather than through aesthetic merit.
Glenn Donaldson has been incredibly active lately in a number of San Francisco psychedelic / improv outfits (all with records out on the local Jewelled Antler cd-r label), including Thuja, the Knit Separates, the Blithe Sons, the Sky Green Leopards, Youth
Yowza! We are *so* excited to finally have stock (and at a nice price, too) of this masterpiece of heaviosity by the amazing Japanese band Boris, who have become big AQ-faves over the past few years. The more-than-aptly-titled "Amplifier Worship" is their
A good shorthand description of "Amplifier Worship" would be to say that it sounds like a cross between the low-end riffage of Boris' obvious heroes the Melvins, and the more recent, rhythmic trance experiments of their countrymen the Boredoms. Psychedelic punk metal, utterly crushing. Pretty much essential to anyone who is into "heavy"! If you like the dirgey sludge of Corrupted and Earth, as well as the more rocked-out sludge of Sleep and Melvins (circa "Ozma" and "Bullhead"), you'll love Boris! Recommended!!
Hard to figure this one out. Ok, let's start with the line-up: Paul Lemos and Joe Papa of Controlled Bleeding infamy, plus the maniac drum stylings of Tatsuya Yoshida from the Ruins (!) on half the tracks!! Actually, Yoshida's presence here isn't *that* surprising, as he's an '80s guy no doubt into Industrial Culture scene at the time, and has guested on another recent Controlled Bleeding album. Plus the music on here in in keeping with the sillier, improv messing-around side of Yoshida's output. Lemos, Papa, and Yoshida are backed by a large band of horn players and others -- everything from clarinets to contact mics. Trombone, sax, trumpet, harmonica, violin, sitar, lots of absurd vocals, etc. All that gets thrown into the mix, mostly with a falling-down-the-stairs kind of sound. Babbling squawking chaos skronk jazz rock is what's going on here, yet while on the noisy side this is still kinda song-oriented. There's even recognizable if malformed covers of tunes by The Doors and Bo Diddley! All this is Residents or Sun City Girls-ish weirdness for weirdness' sake, no doubt. Probably *not* essential for Ruins and/or Controlled Bleeding fans, but some of you will like it. Watch out for the photo of Joe Papa as "Birdman Baby" inside the cd booklet, it's at least as disturbing as the music...
The second full length from Burd Early (aka James Angelos from New York)! The follow-up to last year's Magnet Mountain continues very much along the same lines. And that's fine with us! If you're fond of earthy, brooding and deeply personal Americana, this might be for you. The MM album drew more than a few comparisons to Smog, Silver Jews, and Dieselhed. This time around however, fans of Dirty Three, Giant Sand or Black Heart Procession might also be lured into the Burd Early den with its slow, somber songs like the violin-laden "Here We Go Again". So pretty.
With totally off the wall lyrics invoking bunions & corns, sasquatch & gazpacho, "where the red fern grows" and "I am the hollowman", etc, you'd think emcees Busdriver (Project Blowed) and Radioinactive (West Coast Workforce) along with producer Daedelus (Plug Research) had come up with an album just exploding with originality and fun. Sadly, I found this blip-hop joint entirely incoherent, frustratingly unlistenable, full of decent ideas but none of them carried out for long enough to be satisfying, always interrupted by more of their love-it-or-hate-it nasal singsong delivery. Sorry but I think this is bad; it sounds more like an afterschool blunt-befuddled hip hop take on, like, Ween or something. Your mileage may vary, however, so listen to the soundclips. Otherwise, see others on the Mush and Anticon rosters for the real excellence in new underground hip hop -- Boom Bip, DoseOne, Clouddead, etc.
Right out of the starting gate, this new Calexico album rings with a fond familiarity, perhaps leaning a little more towards traditional country than their past mariachi-drenched sound. However, from that point on John Convertino and Joey Burns take a winding path away from both the sound and style that have defined them for three superb albums, returning only every so often to their trademark lushly reverbed slinking twang with horns. It's a bold move with results that are both successful and refreshing for the group. That's not to say they're unrecognizable, nor sounding like a completely different band. Not at all, each song is most certainly distinctly Calexico. Still very cinematic and expansive. However, there's subtly executed shifts and additions that build gloriously upon their work to date. The simmering second song "Quattro" has an almost Fleetwood Mac "Tusk" rhythmic feel, and oddly enough the sixth is called "Not Even Stevie Nicks" a surprisingly sunkissed '70s-ish pop rock song. High strings slide and soar through the atmosphere of "Black Heart". Mid-album, hushed backing vocals grace the chorus of "Woven Birds". The Convertino-penned "The Book And The Canal" is a brief hushed interlude centered around misty piano melody. For those of you itchin' for some more familiar moments, there's still plenty on songs like "Guero Canelo" and "Close Behind" (both written by Burns). Something new for old Calexico fans and a great introduction for those who've yet to experience this fabulous group. Wonderful, and very recommended.
Simply gorgeous, and so well worth the nearly five year wait! Yes, it has been that long since the last Cat Power album (not including her Covers Record), but Chan Marshall's songwriting is so rich and lingering, that an album like 1998's Moon Pix just lasts and lasts. You certainly may have been craving more new CP songs, but at the same time found you were not yet done with what was on your plate. Timeless and deeply personal, hers is music you revisit again and again. So it comes as no surprise that You Are Free is no exception. Absolutely compelling and gorgeously assembled, this is an album that you could easily lose yourself in. Although it's as emotionally weighted as any of her past albums (or perhaps even more so), this doesn't solely focus (or dwell) on themes of sorrow and pain as those did. Introducing the earthy intimacy of the album, the lead off song trails offs with a handful of casual piano notes as if it were being performed in an impromptu setting - perhaps in front of just her closest friends. The third song "Good Woman" is a prime example of how strength, frailty, hope and despair are all entwined in Marshall's music. This deeply moving highlight of the album acutely conveys crushing heartbreak, survival and renewal. With backing vocals sung by two young girls and an enveloping string arrangement, you'll surely wish it continued past its four minutes. Marshall does kick up some dust on a few numbers, singing with such white-knuckled conviction on songs like "He War", only to return within her next breath to a ghostly whisper on "Fool". Quite something to behold. You Are Free comes to a close just as it began - subdued, yearning with just her voice and piano. Highly recommended.
Once a monstrous hyperbole of the pretenses of rock, Nick Cave has nearly completed his transformation into the complete antithesis of everything The Birthday Party ever stood for. That's not to say that "Nocturama," the 12th studio album for Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, is a bad album; but only that there is very little connecting the Cave of today with the Cave of yesteryear. "Nocturama" finds old Nick seranading behind the piano, and these are mostly tender love songs that he croons with a bittersweet quiver that's more commonly heard from the Tindersticks than any of the psychosexually dark tales from his albums "From Her To Eternity" and "Let Love In." As strange as it may seem, Cave's voice is welcoming, friendly, and comforting with its dusky baritone complemented by arrangements that should sound somber and mournful, but don't. On a couple of tracks towards the end of the record, the Bad Seeds may appear to be reflecting on their swam-rock past, busting out their ramshackled, barn-bustin' numbers driven by caustic hammond organ and crashing cymbals. I think The Wire got it right, stating that these songs are "like a stompier Bob Dylan with the Band." Not exactly fire and brimstone; but a decent rock 'n' roll experience.
This is the CD reissue of Andrew Chalk's "Over The Edges" which originally came out in 1999 as a vinyl-only release in a somewhat reasonable edition of 545 copies. Having composed "Over The Edges" in a single day at Colin Potter's ICR studio using only two strings of an acoustic guitar played with an E-Bow, Chalk brings a raspy, magentic buzz to his typically sublime, drone hypnosis. Here, subharmonics undulate beneath a chorus of static guitar-string vibrations, and shimmering waves of feedback elegantly flutter throughout. Not immediately as expressive as "Sumac" or some of the Mirror recordings done with Christoph Heemann, "Over The Edges" recalls the purist minimalism of long string composers like Alvin Lucier and Ellen Fullman.
Here it is, the next in Henry Owings' line of increasingly hard-act-to-follow Chunklets (issues 15 and 16 were The Shit List and The Biggest Asshole). The cover story this time? Pay To Not Play. An unbelievably complex, stipulation-laden, sliding scale offer to pay bands to break up. Not in a band? No problem 'cause Chunklet's got an offer for you too. It's the Tattoo Challenge - select a band name from the long list they've provided, and they will custom design a tattoo for that band AND pay for it to be inked onto your body. Note: you *really* need to see some of their samples. But wait! There's more... truckloads! An extensive Mr. Show tour diary. An even more extensive Mission Of Burma feature (a whompin' 18 pages). Interviews with comedians Patton Oswalt, Janeane Garafalo, Dave Attell and Fred Armisen. All written with Chunklet's irrepressible biting wit. Whew! Hold your horses, we're not done yet. A full-color rock club safety fold-out - amazingly replicating those airlines pamphlets that you find in the seat pocket in front of you. Musings on punk rock action figures and hipster handshakes, a crossword puzzle, old faves Jaded Robot, Letters To The Editor and Whatever Dude, plus comics from our own Cup and her I Am Spoonbender bandmate Dustin. This hefty mag is even more astonishing with the knowledge that the entire issue vanished just prior to its completion when Henry's home was broken into and his computer stolen. An immensely engrossing and highly entertaining read.
NOW AVAILABLE ON CD!!! Our local troublemakin' party band dish out more lo-fi, stripped-down garage rawk at its trashy finest. Akin to the Gories, or Doo Rag or any of Billy Childish's incarnations. Tinny, distorted Pussy Galore / Jon Spencer-ish vocals issue from the wisecracking mouth of John Dwyer, Valencia Street's answer to Bart Simpson. They put on such a kickass show live, you have to see them if you ever get a chance. If not, you should of course hear them on record, but you won't get as wet with beer, soaked with sweat or kicked in the head by crowd surfers.
What has to be our favorite British pagan folk psychedelic prog rock album ever (in other words, quite possibly our favorite album ever, period!) is finally available again on cd, and in a gorgeous Japanese mini-lp gatefold sleeve to boot, with the disc itself all state-of-the-art remastered, sounding great.
THIS RECORD SCARES US. Hearing it is like stumbling upon some forbidden ancient ritual that scares you to death. You stand paralyzed, too afraid to look away. Comus's singular, frightening sound and violently poetic lyrics have kept them from taking their rightful place alongside Fairport Convention, Incredible String Band, and the rest of Britain's psychedelic folk royalty.
And we don't write the words psychedelic folk royalty without a certain amount of trepidation. At first glance Comus would seem to fit squarely in the Ren-Faire camp: bongos, flute, oboe, 12-string guitar, and no drummer. But never has the whole of a band so completely defied its parts; their sound is as mesmerizing as it is repulsive. Upon the record's initial release, one British music journalist wrote that she "didn't get past the first track, which sounded like a cross between a frenzied version of the witches chorus from Macbeth, and Marc Bolan being squeezed to death." Funny thing is, that's a fairly apt description. Tales of murder, rape, insanity, and witchcraft unfold amid a swirling abyss of seething acid folk. Squalls of shamanistic wailing jut uncomfortably from serene, tranquil melodies; guttural growls battle a delicate angelic chorus, echoing the violent struggle of the lyrics. Flutes, hand drums, acoustic guitars, and a violin clamber atop one another in a chaotic melee, creating a pagan folk not unlike that of The Wicker Man soundtrack gone totally bonkers.
Although the band has been resolutely ignored by mainstream music fans, the press, and the majority of the underground, a small rabid following has kept a reverential vigil beside the corpse of Comus.
Nurse with Wound cronies Current 93 modeled their '90s sound after '70s British folk, Comus especially. They even went so far as to cover "Diana," Comus's only single, on their album Horsey. Swedish progressive black metallers Opeth have always been outspoken about their love of Comus. Their acclaimed 1998 album was called My Arms, Your Hearse, after the lyrics of "Drip Drip" (on First Utterance). And it's not surprising. This record is so powerful and frightening and totally devastating even 30 years later.
And never would I have thought that a record as old as me, with flutes and bongos fer chrissakes, could be so absolutely malevolent, both sonically and lyrically! But like I said, this record scares us. And we know you like to be scared too!
We were hoping that this new cd edition would include the two bonus tracks from from an early single that the Italian vinyl reissue included as a bonus 12", but such is not the case. Oh well. Still ranks as one of our all time favorites.
Converge just happen to be responsible for quite possibly the best metalcore record of last year (maybe ever?!?), Jane Doe. Pummelling, and complex, heavy and brutal but drone-y and dirgey, death metal mixed with hardcore mixed with punk rock mixed with post rock mixed with grindcore. A totally unique musical statement, stretching the envelope of the often too predicatable hardcore/metalcore sound. So how did they get to that point? Well here's a singles/rarites collection that gives us a little glance into the past to see how this band turned into the powerhouse they are now. Singles, compilation tracks, as well as a handful of previously unreleased tracks make this essential for the Converge completist as well as a decent introduction for the uninitiated, to a band that continues to blow our minds, although if you are taking your first plunge, we might recommend the godlike Jane Doe instead.
Ry Cooder returns from his success with Buena Vista Social Club to produce a mostly instrumental album of not quite so traditional arrangements of Cuban tunes as well as some originals penned by himself and fellow guitarist Manuel Galban. Joined by the likes of bassist Cachaito, drummer Jim Keltner and augmented by various percussion, vibes, and organ, the two put together some heavily produced tunes much akin to the Latin Playboys. Engineer Jerry Boys even puts a Tchad Blake-esque spin on the production. Often smokey, drenched in reverb, the best songs have a very sountracky atmosphere. Then some, like their cover of Perez Prado's "Patricia" are just downright schmaltzy (though admittedly, that's a tough one to do otherwise.) Others, like the title track "Mambo Sinuendo", have so much Pro-Toolsification going on one would half expect to see Uwe "Atom Heart" Schmidt's name credited there somewhere.
Despite the Emperor t-shirt Cul de Sac's Robin Amos wears so proudly on the inside cover of this new album, the Boston band has not gone black metal (although it's apparently much of what they listen to in the tour vehicle!) Still, this long awaited -- three years in the making -- record from one of our favorite groups is a stylistic breakthru for them, and a very successful one at that. Amos and new member Jake Trussell (electronics/turntables) first created a sonic foundation: samples contributed by each bandmember (everything from a gurgling Missouri River to Peruvian rainforest ambience, a scratchy Cajun 78rpm record, and a 1933 German a capella 5-part harmony group) were looped, treated and otherwise manipulated into electronic roadmaps over which the band then played acoustic bowed bass, warm gentle guitars, muted tickings, violin, sinister twanging sitar, hunting horns, melodica, and more. The electronically manipulated elements were meant to stand equally alongside the organic acoustic sounds -- something Amos points out is attempted often by other musicians but rarely happens successfully. It's really no surprise that if any band could do this well, it would be the always-amazing Cul de Sac.
This record is the hands-down best lull-you-to-sleep record of the year so far -- Reminiscent of lots of AQ faves (Phillip Jeck, No Neck Blues Band, Bohren, Jackie O Motherfucker, Birchville Cat Motel Band, Third Ear Band) but totally amazing and original as always!
Still holding down the emo wing of the Saddle Creek label is Cursive, and here is their new two song ep. Their inclusion of strings and horns with their basic punk rock assembly of guitar, bass and drums adds a wonderful dimension to Cursive. We caught a glimpse of this expanded instrumentation on their last release which was a split cd with Japan's Eastern Youth. It really works well! Increasing the dramatics of their already heavily emotive and dynamic music. An exciting peek at what's to come on their new full length due out soon.
Out of the misty Pacific Northwest, underground psychedelic guitar god Stephen Wray Lobdell (heck he's been playing guitar for legendary krautrockers Faust, that's close to godhood, right?) and the other three guys in the strangely named Davis Redford Triad enter our waking dreamspace yet again with "Code Orange". The Triad is Lobdell's primary venue for his way-out instrumental drone guitar psych -- think Japan's Fushitsusha or SF's Comets On Fire. Chugging, chiming, wailing, haunting, heavy effin' cosmic beauty. This disc is a "live collage" from the band's tour in the spring of 2002, and features not only favorites like "Solar Aquarius" and "Apocalypse Greeting Card" from their two studio albums, but also adaptations of some Lobdell compositions originally found on his lovely "Automatic Writing" solo album -- suitably amped up for Triad performance -- AND three totally new songs as well!! Numbered, limited to 500, consider this a (must-have for fans) teaser of sorts for the Triad's upcoming studio full-length "Blue Cloud" on Holy Mountain this fall. Now, how'd Holy Mtn. honcho John Whitson manage to get our gov't to bump the official "panic rating" up to Code Orange for real the very same week this was due for release? I don't want to think about it, we'll leave that to the FBI. Maybe Tom Ridge is a mystical dude. Anyway, the, um, coincidence is an "Apocalypse Greeting Card" us, indeed.
The hyper-caffienated trio of Swedish thrashers known as Defleshed return with this, their fourth studio effort, and again whip up a storm of headbanging heaviness -- 32 minutes of aggressive old-school metal mania. While their insidiously catchy 1998 masterpiece "Under The Blade" is their best release, fans may find "Royal Straight Flesh" a blast, more-or-less literally. This is more of a drilling grind, still bereft of time-wasting guitar solos, but mostly without the staggering hooks of "Under The Blade". Yet is is every bit as energetic and powerful, which counts for something! And at points we're reminded of recent Immortal output, which is also no bad thing.
Perennial AQ favorite Dirty Three return with a proper follow-up to 2000's Whatever You Love You Are. While their singular sound has always been delicately gloomy, poignant instrumentals played out on guitar, simple drums, and achingly touching violin, each album applies the chiaroscuro in a slightly different way. On earlier albums such as Sad & Dangerous, for example, the violin delicately poured out passages so pretty they almost made up for the sadness of the compositions. On She Has No Strings Apollo, the interplay between the guitar/drums and the violin is more tension-filled and meditative -- less predictably heartwrenching, more meditative and stretched out. There's also autumnally bare piano adding an elegant stateliness to the whole affair. Very, very nice, if a touch more 'difficult' than their previous works. If you've never heard them before, we'd recommend you start with Whatever You Love but don't get me wrong, Apollo is a fine, dark record.
Oakland's ironic cock rock masters bounce back from the demise of their former label Man's Ruin with this new album for Tee Pee. Ironic? Yep, that's the one problem we might have with these boys. Otherwise, they rock hard, crankin' out good party tunes like something from your older stoner bro's record collection circa 1973-1980. They fit right in with other modern bands doing that retro rock thing, like Cherry Valence, All Night, Boulder, and even Drunk Horse pals The Fucking Champs in their more Thin Lizzyish moments. Drunk Horse are great players, indulging in total '70s worship...but I can't help thinking that they learned their riffing from Cheech & Chong's "Earache My Eye" rather than from the real, non-goof rock bands of the era. Maybe that's not fair, but I can't help but imagine how good these guys would be if there wasn't the joke element going on. Sure, these are smart guys playing dumb rock...but can't you be genuine about it though? Maybe it wouldn't have to be so dumb if they didn't make it intentionally so, with songs about Lube Jobs and so forth. That said, this is pretty darn good AND kinda funny too so maybe I should just enjoy the witty lyrics, kick-ass guitars, and sweaty songwriting regardless. Plus when they go off instrumentally you know they are -- or could be -- more than just a campy pastiche of '70s rock cliches. There's hints of jazz fusion, genuine pop smarts, and mucho guitar intelligence, so someday I want to hear the Advanced Drunk Horse record. Whatever, whoop it up!
Oops. Here's a straggler from the Africa portion of the Explorer series that we never got around to listing. Oh well, better late than never. A popular lute throughout Northern Africa and the Middle East, the oud has 6 six strings, all of which but for the lowest in pitch are paired up (like in a twelve string guitar). Hamza El Din hails originally from Nubia (which is absorbed within Egypt near the Sudan) and on this album he claims to fuse elements of both Sudan and Egypt into his distinct Nubian style. A couple of interesting facts I never knew about El Din: he not only played with the Grateful Dead live occasionally, he organized their tour of Egypt (Yikes! But don't let that dissuade you non-deadheads out there.) He also roomed at guitarist Sandy Bull's place for a spell (hence the source of the influence on Bull's piece "Blend".) Escalay was originally released by Nonesuch in 1971, but unlike many other artists featured in the Explorer series, it wasn't Hamza El Din's first commercial release (In fact, it was his third release and was apparently recorded after he had emigrated to the United States.) But this was the album that everyone, including Mickey Hart, initially went nuts over and the album that everyone still hails as his greatest -- Kronos Quartet commissioned El Din to arrange the title track for their 1992 release Pieces Of Africa. The first two tracks are mesmerizing -- 21 and 12 minute respectively -- pieces for oud and voice (both El Din's) and the third is a 5 minute piece for tar (frame drum) and voice. Hamza El Din's oud playing is so damn seductive, it seems to warp one's perception of time. The first time I put this disc on to listen to and write, I found myself just sitting paralized through the first two tracks before the crisp snapping of the tar awoke me from my reverie. His playing is so effortless as to understate his virtuosity, it's no wonder that it's so easy to become completely absorbed in his compositions. Listening closely, you can hear El Din manipulating the timbre of his instrument on a macro level: coaxing out texture from the warm buzz of the strings. Buying this CD, your only disappointment will be in its brevity of just under 40 minutes.
"Red Cross, Disciple of Christ Today, by John Fahey, Guitar Evangelist." This is the last album by John Fahey before his death in 2001, and "guitar evangelist" seems like the perfect description of his legacy. With his acoustic guitar drenched in reverb, "Red Cross" sees Fahey traversing all his signature territory, condensing the entirety of American folk-blues tradition into a uniquely emotional and present instrumental language that also touches on eastern modalities and droning psychedelia. His talent for arranging classic compositions is represented by a version of Irving Berlin's "Remember" and a truly moving, beautiful take on the Gershwins' "Summertime" (I'm always a sucker for that song, but this version really blows me away). It's hard not to read into these tracks, knowing they were recorded so soon before Fahey's passing. The last, "hidden" track especially reverbrates with a kind of somber, distant contemplation, while many of the other tracks possess the joyful but calm exhuberance that comes with being at peace with fate. If there's anything to be learned from the touching liner notes by Cul De Sac's Glenn Jones, however, it's that Fahey was a man who truly lived for today, and if the album can be read as a reflection on the past or acceptance of the future it might just be by chance. But it doesn't seem to be by chance that the last album recorded by a guitar genius decades along in his career stands alongside his very best. Simultaneously uplifting in its gorgeousness and heartbreaking in its unitintended function as a final farewell.
"Fall In A Hole" is the live album recorded by a young Chris Knox during the band's 1982 New Zealand tour. That means this is vintage Fall, raw and amazing! Includes classic songs such as "Marquis Cha Cha," "The Man Whose Head Expanded" and "Prole Art Threat." The vinyl of this has long been hard to find-- originally 1,500 copies pressed on double vinyl, "Fall in a Hole" never got distributed in the UK because Mark E. "the Fall is me and your grandma on bongos" Smith freaked out that a picture of guitarist Marc Riley (who was booted out of the band right after the tour) was on the cover, leading to a claim that the album was an unauthorized bootleg. The cd version adds a few extra tracks. Warning: the original 4-track reel-to-reel recording definitely sounded, uh, live, and this cd is taken from a vinyl copy as opposed to the original tapes, which spells less-than-ideal fidelity. Still worth having for the snotty, brainy, punk as hell energy documented.
"We've always liked the idea of releasing records which lacked conventional 'finish' in terms of production...the music should sound like bootlegs, as if recorded by someone who passed a group rehearsing or jamming and then cut the recorded material wildly together." That's a quote from Faust mentor/manager Uwe Nettelbeck circa 1973, reprinted in the liner notes to this aptly-titled odds n' ends collection, a collage of pieces recorded by the idiosyncratic krautrock legends over the past thirty years. It helps explain the sounds here, as well as the aesthetic behind their classic "Faust Tapes" album (which this echoes) and much else of their output. The material presented here will fade from stuff recorded in the early days at their communal studio directly into things put down on tape by the reunited/retrofitted incarnation of Faust just last year -- sometimes within the very same track! Mostly this is early '70s stuff, but there's a few '80s derived recordings and material from the currently active Faust line-up. It's all pretty great. Unreleased archival alternate versions of familiar Faust favorites, forgotten experiments, live bits and pieces -- wild psych guitar/effect noise fests, Stoogesy jamming, droning electronics, sweet strumming folk, jazz freakouts -- all this is woven together in a truly kaleidoscopic krautrock "patchwork" indeed. Very Faust-ian. Uwe's quote describes this perfectly.
The first domestic release from garage greats Guitar Wolf since 1999. These sexy men from Japan can be commended for their stick-to-it-ive-ness, and consistency of style. Raw old school garage taken to an almost avant-garde level of noise and ridiculousness. This record is more of the same, really fast and punk. Released on Narnack, that same label that put out the Coachwhips album, this is their eighth full length record!! Bands so often go through different phases and genres, changing with the times, and that's fine and all but I'm happy to see Guitar Wolf hasn't changed. Playing their fucked up, feedback-filled, punked-out, hair-slicked-back garage rock n' roll.
Florian Hecker's "Sun Pandamonium" is a noxious album of digital abstraction, not uncommon for the Austrian label Mego that specializes in damaged electronics. Hecker centers on the internal logic of the digitized glitch, building swarming sounds of timestretched masses into puzzling digital vibrations; these work best when Hecker pays homage to the bleeps, boings, and clangs of the electronic pioneers such as Tod Dockstader.
A new 12" on nice marble vinyl. The band known for a million riffs a minute and insane drumming brings some electronic beats to the party before tearing into some incredibly dense noise prog. Like Lightning Bolt and Orthrelm, Hella turn two people into a finely honed instrument of sonic destruction.
While the drumming never lets up its multilayered, frantic pace, the guitar (augmented here and there by keyboard) takes Hella's sound from This Heat precision to all out noise and into more accessible song territory on the last track, which features vocals, a first for the band.
This album came out a couple of months ago, but some problems in distribution from France (where the Textile lable is located) kept us from getting this until now. Nevertheless, "Change" is the much anticipated follow-up to the acclaimed pair of Jackie-O Motherfucker albums "Liberation" and "Magick Fire Music." This fluctuating ensemble of musicians have made a few minor alterations to their psychedelic improvisations channelled through the mythologies of Appalachian folk music; but for the most part, "Change" isn't that much of a prophetic title for this work. Jackie-O Motherfucker lets loose a vast array of instrumentation (guitars, violins, cellos, sax, reeds, vibes, and percussion) to explore any number of divergent paths of improvisation, while attempting to hold generalized themes which at times reference an Easter snake-charming vibe and at others a Huck Finn laziness. The latter is exemplified by Tom Greenwood's nasally vocals which wistfully meander through a couple of tracks like Gibby Haynes on even heavier sedation than usual. Jackie-O is at their best when structuring this sprawling aesthetic in a post-rock expansiveness (i.e. Tarentel, Pajo, Sonna, etc.) in which repeated guitar riffs reign in all of the other instruments as ornamentation. Yet, more frequently on "Change" than previous outings, Jackie-O allows for a Knitting Factory-style noodle jazz to be invoked through a plethora of solos.
The CD has three tracks not featured on the LP.
"On The Way" is a pretty abrasive album, although it also has the distinction of being one of the more technically proficient albums from Jandek. Working clearly with recognizable blues progressions, Jandek offers a range of expressive (albeit sharply mangled) guitar solos on top of a rhythm section that actually keeps relatively normal time. Yet at the same time, Jandek is really aggro, finding himself on the manic side of the bi-polar equation. I guess I like my Jandek depressed and morose, but if you're looking for a really fucked up alternate to Howling Wolf, and I mean *really* fucked up, "On The Way" is for you.
Another of the quartet of fine new Bottrop-Boy releases, "01.02" is the solo debut from Danish composer Jacob Kirkegaard, collecting material recorded over the past two years in Cologne (where he lives), Paris, and elsewhere. You might know Kirkegaard's name from his collaboration with AQ-fave turntable experimentalist Philip Jeck, the "Soaked" cd that came out last year on the Touch label. The sound of Jeck-style radioactive crackle from antique vinyl carries over to this release, along with gentle melodies, beats, drones, and vague samples. Recognizable, fragmented bits of guitar and piano surface occasionally, and field recordings or environmental sounds also are utilized. The disc as a whole is a very pretty n' abstract glitch-scape. True, you might feel that you already have a few albums like this in your collection -- but it's a slippery slope arguing that more lovely, glitchy, ambient, droney, dreamy electronic music is an unneccessary thing, and this one is certainly a nice listen, particularily if you're a Jeck fan!
As an objet d'art, Thomas Koner's "Unerforschtes Gebiet" is almost perfectly executed from beginning concept to final product. The title translates from Koner's native German as "Unchartered Territory," a common theme for electronica's isolationist whose previous work has prompted metaphors of arctic desolation, astrophysical emptiness, and Zen-like nothingness. Inscribed upon one of the loveliest picture discs we've ever seen with images of antique seafaring maps of the Arctic Ocean / North Pole, Koner's "Unerforschtes Gebiet" is a very quiet composition that explores variations of low frequencies which crawl very slowly in and out of audibility amidst down-pitched cracklings and muted rumbles. It could be assumed that Koner has kept this album relatively quiet and has geared-down all the frequencies to give more presence to the surface noise inherent in all picture discs (which for better or for worse never sound as good as a thick slab of 220 gram vinyl). Koner has stated that this album has its origins from his experiments with the projections of a really dusty piece of blank 16mm film; thus, he's done his best to cover all the conceptual bases between the historical references to those old maps, the surface noise, and that dusty film. Of course, if you can't stand surface noise, by all means stay away and be content with the knowlegde that a slightly different CD version of this album will be published later on this year. But if you waffle on this one, I guarantee you will miss out as Die Stadt has manufactured a mere 700 copies!
Ignore the "Le", that's just a silly way to differentiate this Scrawl from the '90s US indie rock girl group. And they are VERY different. "Le" Scrawl is a schizoid grind band straight out of the German peace punk underground, doing the rapid-fire genre-mash thing. They belong in the same record bin with the likes of Naked City, Exit 13, People, Mexican Power Authority, Spazztic Blurr, Alboth!, Boredoms, and Anal Cunt (whose Seth Putnam guests vocalizes on one song here). If you're thinking that's a very '90s list of mostly avantgarde/novelty grind bands well, yes, this Scrawl stuff was recorded between 1990-1999. And we'd all but forgotten this band until the excellent Oakland label Life Is Abuse (purveyors of metallic weirdness like Tarantula Hawk and Ludicra) took it upon themselves to put together this cd, the complete Scrawl discography on one disc, essentially a deluxe, expanded version of Scrawl's "Q" album originally issued in 1995 by Germany's Ecocentric Records. Expanded in that you get the original disc's 24 tracks plus *another* 42 songs (!!) including their self-titled 1993 album, live stuff, singles, demos, and incongrous covers (De La Soul, The Exploited, Terrorizer, Chic, and the Mission Impossible theme!).
Their humorous, herky-jerky musical juxtapositions plus their totally grim punk political lyrix (that you can't understand anyway 'cause they're all gruff and screamy) equals weird, radical, action-oriented artcore. Imagine the quirky European chamber prog of a group like Etron Fou Leloublan colliding with the 20-second blast beat grindcore of a Napalm Death, or Mr. Bungle gone crusty punk, or, when the horn section kicks in, some sort of ADD Fishbone/Uz Jsme Doma hybrid playing in the midst of a Drop Dead practice session. The booklet -- chock full of photos, flyers, and discographical information -- has a 2002 note from main man Mario Anders, promising some new (Le) Scrawl material coming soon! Yikes!
We're so glad that the world is finally waking up to the genius of Ted Leo. We have been huge fans since his early days fronting the aggro mod-pop band Chisel. And the things that made Chisel so appealing have only intensified and matured since then. Jangly, super catchy hooks, classic riffs, amazingly literate, clever and funny lyrics, and that voice! A soaring almost falsetto that is keening and straining at impossible registers one moment, belting it out at others. So awesome. The sound is still sort of mod-pop, think the Jam/Style Council, Thin Lizzy, Elvis Costello and Joe Jackson all wrapped up in a sensitive thirtysomething emo boy! And all filtered through Leo's knack for inventive arrangements and weird chordal choices. This is not easy or simple pop. This is the kind of stuff that rewards repeated listens. The hooks are there, but they aren't obvious. And the melodies are infectious, but not cloying. And to me that's the best kind of pop record. One that stays fresh and offers something new everytime you hear it. Leo is seriously one of the best pop songwriters around. And he just keeps getting better.
You hear that? That echoing, droning, heavy psych jamming destroying your mind? Yep, at last, we've got 'em. Real cds, not cd-rs. Reasonably priced. More than a handful in stock (for now). The distorto-delic seventies Japanese guitar psych holy grail known as "Live '77", previously released only in an absurdly expensive, impossible to track down double cd-r edition, and in part on long-gone vinyl bootlegs, is now within your grasp (almost). This we expect to have around for more than two seconds at least, and is a comparative steal at only $25. Nicely done too, with a die cut cover revealing a blurry b&w photo of Les Rallizes Denudes guitarist Mizutani Takashi in action.
Disc one starts off exploring Les Rallizes mellow side, all sensitive and lovely, with "Enter The Mirror", but then soon explodes into sheer amplified overload, with throbbing mantric rhythms Circle fans should dig. It's a searing wash of guitars in the most far out VU, Neil Young, Fushitsusha realm, but taken way further out. Rough, raw live sound, but really all the fuzz and distortion and grit sounds just right. There's four long tracks on disc one, three looong tracks on disc two. By the time the epic 20+ minute "The Last One" on disc two marches into white noise oblivion, you -- and maybe your speakers -- will be fried.
Apparently, Takashi and co. are still out there, somewhere in Japan, making music as they have been for the past 30-odd years, but rarely leaving a recorded trace. But this 1977 live set isn't just about the only thing really available, it's also proof of their obscure genius. Next to 60's beat-psych legends the Jacks, they are maybe THE pioneering Japanese psychedelic outfit, obviously a BIG influence on today's underground Japanese psych bands, like Keiji Haino's Fushitsusha, High Rise and Mainliner, Acid Mothers Temple, Nagisa Ni Te, maybe even noiseniks Hijokaidan... All of 'em could simply be Les Rallizes tributes, really. We'd have to imagine that Keiji Haino and co. caught some Rallizes shows back in the day. So, if you like any of that stuff, you need this...and if you're the sort who buys every admittedly fine Kawabata Makoto/AMT cd or LP released every goddamn week, you have to get this just to help with the cosmic balance, man. Get 'em now, while you can!
Far from being one of the many Francisco Lopez albums of inaudible activity and near silence, "Addy En Elpais De Las Frutas Y Los Chunches" is an epic construction of densely layered field recordings. Originally released in an edition of 500 copies on ND back in 1997, this album has been long out of print. However, Lopez' insistence of this being his favorite composition to date perhaps prompted Alien 8 to pull this title back into circulation. Despite the obviousness to Lopez' source material (i.e. wind, rain storms, cricket choruses, and other natural phenomenon), the strategies that he uses to collage all of these materials are wholly synthetic and purposefully theatrical. So much so, that Allan thought this was an experimental track from the pummelling necro-metal outfit Anaal Nathrakh! Indeed, Lopez has amplified the horrific elements of these natural sounds, extending his definition of 'acousmatic music' as not simply disguising the source material but rendering it hallucinatory, vertiginous, and ominous. The album opens with an unrelenting wall of sound that surges forward in a startling jolt of mechanical screeches and insect choruses that are more electrical than natural. Lopez ramps the volume and bass equilization of these sounds up to a tumultuous crescendo of furious noise some five or six minutes later, only to abruptly cut to a quiet murky wash of miasmic swirling. Come to think of it, these strategies have much more in common with Illusion Of Safety or The Hafler Trio than the sensorially smooth transitions that have become so prominent in recent Lopez works (especially in the "Belle Confusion" series). Regardless of any precedents, "Addy En Elpais De Las Frutas Y Los Chunches" definitely qualifies as one of Lopez' masterpieces.
A few years back, Byram and I (Jim) had the preposterous idea of getting really drunk at a Francisco Lopez concert and then heckling him when he performed one of his infamous, nearly inaudible compositions, simply because, quite frankly, they really annoyed us. Having giddily consumed a bottle of whiskey and entered the gritty confines of the 7hz warehouse performance space, we were a bit surprised at Lopez' request that everyone in the audience be blindfolded. It wasn't enought to simply turn off all the lights and let the audience sit in the dark; Lopez requires more absolute sensory deprivation in order to listen to his work. Regardless of how you might interpret our perception of the show due to our sloppy intoxication, we both left elated and exhausted from his very impressive, phenomonological excursion into raw sound. Having very little definition within the reverb-happy warehouse of 7hz, Lopez' massive roar of sound steadily increased around us, before coming to an abrupt conclusion. I thought the performance was a little too quick for my tastes, until I checked my watch to discover that almost an hour and half had passed! In effect, Lopez had hypnotized me.
The cd documentation of "Live In 'S-Hertogenbosch" does its best to repeat the experience of a Francisco Lopez live show by including a blindfold along with the music itself! That said, this show is a mere 34 minutes, but it is nevertheless an impressive recording, and not at all inaudible!
LUGUBRUM. The name belongs in all-caps cuz Allan and Andee have concluded that Lugubrum are the greatest black metal band EVER. Maybe. After becoming utterly enamoured of their split with their own side project Finsternis (reviewed on list #144), the two of us ordered some of Lugubrum's self-released cds direct from Belgium, for our own collections. Such sudden, massive Lugubrum exposure proved one thing: the totality of their music, their art, their concepts -- are all beyond normal mortal understanding. We must bow down to the totally fucked Lugubrum aesthetic. Yes, they are obsessed with drinking beer and eating carrots. (Yes, we just said eating carrots -- there's a spiked carrot in their logo, their motto is "Beer Us Or Die!!!"). Yes, they make music from the bowels of Hell. Yes, they have some seemingly silly songtitles ("Midgets of Evil"? "Beard Of Disease"?) -- but with totally grim and twisted lyrics, however. Being so paradoxically silly AND serious is the sort of weirdness we truly admire.
Eventually we'll try to stock their import cds, but we're lucky that now their hard-to-find-to-say-the-least 1999 masterpiece, "De Totem" has been reissued in the USA, remastered with 2 bonus tracks! This disc demonstrates that Lugubrum excel at slow-paced trudge-trawls through the doomy mire, changing up with trancey speed blasts. The sound -- their guitars, their vocals -- is so dirty nasty filthy. Makes Anaal Nathrakh sound like freshly scrubbed choirboys. The fuckin' fuzz...fuck. Such doomed, distorted, diseased atmosphere. Frosty string bends. Noisy feedback. Anguished howls. In a word: Beautiful.
And, if that wasn't enough, with the photo sessions for the De Totem booklet, Lugubrum have invented a whole new, hitherto untried look: hillbilly black metal!!! No corpse paint, rather corncob pipes, hoedown hats, shotguns, and beards. A pet hound dog, even. And yes, they actually take it so far as to play banjo on the album! Although, what's weirder is that one of the bonus tracks seems to incorporate a Jamaican dub influence... As we said, now our favorite black metal band in the world. LUGUBRUM.
Our beloved customer and friend Jesse Zeifman loves this album more than any of the AQ staff did, so we asked him to say a li'l something about it:
It's been five years since Massive Attack's startlingly aggressive Mezzanine marked a turning point for the Bristol trio credited, by most, for creating trip-hop. In the interim, the band's lost two of its three founding members, leaving the reins in Robert "3D" Del Naja's hands.
From Blue Lines (1991), a debut that used hip-hop as an endoskeleton and had a body made of soul music, to the muted, austere, follow-up Protection (1994), no Massive Attack album has sounded alike. For their new release, Del Naja has managed to shape-shift the group once again, eschewing Mezzanine's guitars and static and grit for something closer to ambient electronica.
Beginning with "Future Proof" and its combination of galloping electronic blips, reverberating guitars and layers of feedback, Del Naja throws an unexpected curve when, rather than delivering his lyrics with his signature blunted raps, he sings. Sounding like Thom Yorke stoned might, he doesn't display a lot of range, but he phrases things accordingly, effectively, and where it could have felt soft and wrong it doesn't.
As with their previous efforts, the sound-system dynamic with which the group was built remains in place. While Del Naja helms four of the album's nine tracks, he calls upon two other vocalists, Sinead O'Connor and Horace Andy, to give voice to the rest. O'Connor is, unfortunately, underused, leaving her songs the album's least interesting, but Andy, especially on the lovely "Everywhen", fares better. "Small Time Shot Away" is the album's warmest song. If any tonal comparison is to be drawn, it would be with Boards of Canada's "Music Is Math" (from their latest, Geogaddi). "Antistar" closes 100th Window with a threatening guitar loop smashed against Middle Eastern-flavored strings and Del Naja at his most claustrophobic. Juxtapositions of the beautiful and the ominous betray this track's genetic lineage. It's the take-no-shit younger sibling of Mezzanine's, "Risingson."
The rigor of Massive Attack's production always sets their work apart and 100th Window is no different. It may feel, upon first pass, like a pleasant soundtrack to your next dinner party. Check again. Tracks upon tracks of percussive elements, of tingling, stuttering, noise, of lost guitar loops moving independently, churning in their subterranean canals, makes for an experience of uneasy listening.
Recommended for fans of the group -- if you're new to Massive Attack, please start with Mezzanine.
This is for all the sane people out there who didn't buy the Merzbox (a massive 50 cd anthology offering a mere sample of Japan's most prolific noise artist), but who are interested in the wealth of information found within the box. The Merzbook, which was previously published for the Merzbox, is an equally impressive document delving into the history and critical analysis of his work. Edited by Brett Woodward, the Merzbook also features specially commissioned essays by admirers, collaborators, and peers, as well as a CD-ROM with tons of text, art, video, images, soundbites, and even a Merzbow game!
Of all of the Mirror records that have come out over the past three or four years, "Eye Of The Storm" has so far been the cream of the crop for the impressionistic drone duo of Andrew Chalk and Christoph Heemann. Originally released as an incredibly limited and incredibly expensive lp (even by Mirror standards) complete with an individually printed etching smeared with watercolors, "Eye Of The Storm" has thankfully been reissued on CD by Heemann's Streamline label, although with much more economical packaging. The sounds on this album immediately manifest a sublime sense of calm and tranquility, underpinned by subtly unnerving, haunting evocations that keep this album far from the realm of New Age drivel. Environmental sounds of wind, surf, and maybe even distant highways comprise the bulk of the source material, although Chalk and Heemann have multi-tracked and down-pitched these elements as to blur all of the edges and muffle the references. The duo couples these environmental passages with a quiet and slow chorus of bells, gongs, and singing bowls which flutter and quiver with an elegantly restrainted use of electronics. Perhaps because of the source material in question, "Eye Of The Storm" sparks a physicality of meteorological phenomenon, especially the cold & humid foggy air of a sleepy coastal town, yet it is eerily unwelcoming. Absolutely one of my (Jim's) favorite records of all time.
Very nicely done compilation of five long out of print EPs that Mouse on Mars, the German duo who play -- depending on where you're coming from -- either the most accessible, fun, pop-oriented experimental electronica out there, or else it's some of the most experimental dance music you ever heard. Laetitia Sadier and the late Mary Hansen of Stereolab make several guest appearances. Spanning 1994 to 1997 (IMO the best Mouse on Mars years), the EPS are Frosch, Bib, Saturday Night Worldcup Fieber, Cache Couer Naif, and Twift. Highly recommended! The tracks work very well as a cohesive full album.
Well if it's "unreleased", how can it be a "classic"? While we're still scratching our heads about the title, the music of N.O.I.A. fits comfortably within that 'classic' new wave / electro sound from the early '80s that has undergone a surprisingly durable revival over the past four or five years. So forget all the bandwagon jumpers, check out the real deal from folks who were there when the wagon rolled around the first time and this stuff was really fresh and exciting. The scant information we've found about N.O.I.A. reveals they were -- or rather, are -- an Italian synth-pop group who formed in '78 but only signed to a record label in 1983, releasing several singles in '85 but nothing much since -- until now.
This album collects their earliest compositions -- all re-recorded by a reformed N.O.I.A. in 2000. Using pre-fab synths, N.O.I.A. shapes terse interlocking melodies with mechanical rhythms, ample arpeggiation, and vocoded vocals, drawing obvious comparisons to Devo, Kraftwerk, early Human League, and really early Front 242 (esp. 'No Comment' era). They're quite successful at it to boot. Try NOT to dance -- or smile -- to this stuff. Presented with pride on electro-darlings Adult.'s label, Ersatz Audio, who claim N.O.I.A. as a huge influence.
Not sure what it is about this record, but I (Andee) haven't been able to stop listening to it for weeks now. Some of you may remember Nada Surf from their big MTV hit 'Popular'. Not sure how a band goes from heavy rotation on MTV to being on indie label Barsuk, but whatever the reason, I sure can't complain, when the result is a record as catchy and dark and personal as this. And great! Did I say great?! This has to be one of my favorite pop records of recent memory. And the interesting thing is that it really is a POP record, not power pop, or noise pop, or any thing so specialised. If anything, it's most reminiscent of college rock circa 15 years ago. Which could be bad but in this case is most certainly not. Jangly and rocking, dark and melancholy, with really cool funny lyrics that at times are so banal and seemingly random, that they manage to carry the back breaking weight of their heartbreak and misery without the usual sap and schmaltz of most 'rock' lyrics. This record isn't weird or ground breaking or super challenging, just really really good. And ultimately, it comes down to the MUSIC, and how often you want/need to listen to it, and as I find myself throwing this on almost every day, I think that says it all.
Greet the solo album from Kings Of Convenience's singer Erlend Oye. We've had folks asking about this one for months! What was anticipated by many was the incredibly mellow lushness of KOC's Quiet Is The New Loud and/or the follow-up remix collection called Versus. Instead, this comes across somewhat disappointingly as Oye singing over fluffy 80s-ish electronic dance tracks. Imagine a quiet, sweet, folky lad singing for Erasure. Written collaboratively and recorded over a one year period in ten different cities around the globe with the likes of Prefuse 73, Schneider TM, Mr. Velcro Fastener, Metro Area's Morgan Geist, Soviet, Kompis, Minizza, Kilogram, Bjorn Torske. With that in mind, it's surprising how little distinction there is from track to track. Everything is super smooth. I have to admit though that halfway through Unrest, I was struck with the urge to revisit Quiet Is The New Loud rather than continue listening to this. It's just seems to be a more engaging setting for his voice. Nonetheless, fans of the laidback electronic danciness of groups like Aluminum Group or Kruder And Dorfmeister (or their offshoots Peace Orchestra and Tosca) might take a shine to Oye and co. Note: this domestic pressing has a bonus 'hidden' track not available on the import.
