Just a 3-track dose of Apparat Organ Quartet, and to be frank, it really doesn't do this group justice. You only get a mere glimpse of this Icelandic organ-synthesizer-keyboard-allsorts foursome's scope. The first percolating track sounds a lot like a slightly more aggressive Postal Service, whereas the second is a little more insistent and rockin' like a slightly less aggressive Add N To (X) or Trans Am, and the third is a revisiting of the first track. Not quite as good as some of their contributions to compilations that we've carried in the past, but pretty fun nonetheless. Their label notes Karlheinz Stockhausen, Steve Reich, and '70s horror soundtracks as influences, and that very well may be true. However, the most audible influence on this ep is that of Kraftwerk. FYI: AOQ members have worked with the likes of Marc Almond, Hafler Trio, Sigur Ros, Barry Adamson, Stillupsteypa, Mum, Pan Sonic and... Hermann Nitsch!
First things first, admittedly our socks weren't totally knocked off on our introductory listens to this new Appleseed Cast album, but with such a glowing emo epic such as Low Level Owl Volumes 1 and 2 in their catalog of past releases... geez! Hopes were pretty darn high and expectations were just as specific. Much like its most recent predecessor Lost Songs did, Two Conversations inevitably fell victim to comparisons to the almighty Low Level Owl. Those were some big boots to fill, maybe it's best to just find a different pair to slip into? 'Tis true, AC fans (us included) simply have to accept that the band has evolved. Those familiar with AQ-land might recall that this was also the case with fellow Lawrence, KS band The Anniversary who, following their emo pop delight Designing a Nervous Breakdown, shook things up quite a bit with the very different full length Your Majesty - an album we all grew to adore. Anyways, all of that aside, this *is* a fine, inspired and well-executed full length. Appleseed Cast pick up where they left off on Lost Songs - continuing to move away from the energetic and anthemic into more slow, spacy shoegazer territory. Although they do kick into a couple of punchier heartbreak songs filled with crunchy hooks here and there ("Fight Song"), the guitars provide more fuzzy atmospheric washes and more plaintively picked melodies. Vocals are boyish, slightly melted and yes, very emotive. A few songs even brought to mind the well-crafted luminous melancholia of Grandaddy and Sparklehorse (particularly on the final two "How Life Can Turn" and "A Dream For Us"). Give'r a listen!
Devendra Banhart -- who appears to be living his life as an indie-rock gipsy touring with whomever and squatting wherever, including a stint wowing locals here in SF -- crafts his neo-folk songs with the primitive instrumentation of voice and acoustic guitar, spanning a vast spectrum of fragmented emotions through a manic-depressive persona that can be as beautifully charming as it can be terrifyingly devastating. Michael Gira, who released this album through his Young God label, accurately described Banhart's voice with its skewed vibrato and unnerving warble as somewhere in between the magical voices of Marc Bolan, Karen Dalton, Syd Barrett, Tiny Tim, Daniel Johnston, and Nick Drake; and fortunately, Banhart uses that voice to tell a wholly unique set of stories that hold a succinct poetry. Hastily stitched from bizarre stream of consciousness associations and absurdist conditional clauses, Banhart's lyrics expand the realm of possibility into psychosexual surrealism. On occasion, Banhart's tales are anthropomorphic love songs, wistfully dreaming of archaic steam ships and the state of Michigan (yes, he pines for Michigan) with all of sexual cravings and romantic nuances of a young boy first pierced by Cupid's arrow; yet on other occasion, Banhart gnashes his teeth with such existential confusion that the targets of his epithets are blurred by his bilious rage. Within Banhart's language, reality has been realized as a swollen mass of malformed emotions compounded by the urgency that resonates within his voice.
Upon listening to this album, I've had the recurring, sinking feeling either that Banhart is destined to star in an upcoming Harmony Korine film or that he will be dead in a few years as victim of an unspecified gruesome tragedy. As I've tried and failed to assign such distinctly odd critical-doomspeak within various arguments and generalized thesis about the perception of the separation between art and life, I mention it because Banhart -- unlike any artist whom I've come across -- has been able to provoke such controversial thoughts. Far from me to wish Banhart or anybody ill-will, but true manifestations of horror defy logic and are very rare indeed. And this, gentle reader, is the real deal.
If you recall, Andee began his review of Woven Hand's album with the bold statement: "I hate to gush, but gush I must, this is my record of the year. Done deal." As for me (Jim, along with Marcy and Windy), the debut from Devendra Banhart needs to be given serious consideration as a contender for record of the year 2002.
It's been so long since I saw this movie I can barely remember the plot. I do know it had something to do with an all female rock band and the decadence and wacky hijinx that of course ensued when said rock band headed out west to hit the big time. The best part of the story is that the screenplay was written by old fuddy duddy Roger Ebert with help from the king of sleaze Russ Meyer! I wonder how the old ladies of middle America would feel as they were being told by Roger Ebert to go see the latest Hollywood schmaltzfest if they knew that this respectable man they trust to not lead them astray had directed an X RATED FILM! I for one feel a little bit better. This soundtrack/score is awesome, and made me want to run right out and rent this again. From soaring Morricone-ish dramatic flourish, to cheesy sixties girl group campiness to loungy exotica, to crunchy sixties twangy rock (courtesy of the Strawberry Alarm Clock) to riffy almost-hard rock, to funky porno sleaze. Plus, I just now discovered that the song Look On Up At The Bottom, which I always assumed was by pop gods Redd Kross, was actually a cover from BTVOTD! This soundtrack has it all. This could very well be the grooviest, campiest, wickedly wild party record you'll hear this year! Limited too so be quick.
Totally legit Italian-label LP reissue of Black Sabbath's third album, from 1971. And it's really swank, the nice plastic sleeve housing the properly-embossed record jacket, which contains a poster and of course, the record itself, a 180 gram purple-colored vinyl pressing! Nice. We probably don't have to tell you that Master Of Reality is one of Black Sabbath's best, heck one of the best elpees EVER, with Tony, Geezer, Ozzy and Bill whumping out such classics as "Sweet Leaf", "Children of the Grave", "Into The Void", "Lord Of This World" -- good grief every track on here is brilliant!
Garagey blues rock meets Sonic Youth guitar squall. Yep, it's the second raw n' grungy platter from Minnesota's Chicken-Bone George and company. Chicken-Bone being better known to most as Alan Sparhawk of Low, y'know. This side project already proved with their debut from last year that Mr. Sparhawk's got some shitkickin' punked-out blues in him that Low's lovely slow sadness can't quite capture. And we're glad to hear it. Lemme crack open a brewski and crank this up. Sound distorted? Well that's the ideer ain't it! There's a dozen tracks here, including a stab at "Bo Diddley", each one fulla moanin' hollers, menacing grooves, high-energy exuberance and sheer noisy fun. Some w/ slide guitar guestin' by Tim from Califone btw. We like how it's all retro n' all but you can't quite guess what's gonna happen next, this is more creative and artier than it seems... Definitely a band in the running in the current garage revival for sure, if you're into Coach Whips and The Husbands and of course The White Stripes etc. make no mistake you oughta party with the Black-Eyed Snakes too.
At last, the highly anticipated follow-up to The Noise People Make has arrived and in two different packaging selections! If you're a big Broadcast fan you might wanna scoop up this special (very Radiohead-ish) book edition. Making its appearance slightly in advance of the regular ol' jewelcase version, it's not really a book at all, but more of a cd-sized hardback book cover with lyrics and liner notes printed on 2 fold-out cardstock pages.
Okay, now that we've got the packaging commentary out of the way, onwards to the music...
Cup totally adored their pre-album Pendulum cdep, and after giving the HaHa Sound a first listen she feared that this sophomore effort's brightest highlights might've been packed onto that lil' ep. For instance, the ep's title track bursts forth as the second song on the album and is clearly one of its standouts. It's undeniably irresistible! Thoroughly taken with that song as well as the gloriously obtuse, bloopy electronic instrumentals, she initially found herself somewhat disoriented with the rest that followed (as you might be able to tell 'cause she's speaking about it in the third person), but then she gave it a second spin... and the album blossomed before her very eyes/ears!
Vocalist Trish Keenan murmurs and sings in her wistful, lullaby-perfect voice that nears the clarity and sweetness of Karen Carpenter or Julee Cruise. It's the perfect foil for the fizzing and churning backdrop of analog synths, guitars, bass and percussion created by Roj Stevens, Tim Felton, James Cargill and Steve Perkins - tipping their collective hat to '60s Brill Building girl groups, the grand sentimental lovey-dovey-ness of Bacharach, and Esquivelian space age bachelor pads everywhere. Broadcast skillfully craft glistening, starry-eyed music that swirls and creaks like an old carousel, but just as ably veer off into more eccentric, trippy territory a la Bruce Haack, Raymond Scott and Joe Meek (psst, this contrast is perfectly exemplified at the meeting between songs 7 and 8 - "Lunch Hour Pops" and "Black Umbrellas" - check 'em out!). Perhaps the time has come that the occlusive "Stereolab Jr." tag they've been saddled with (granted, quite aptly so) may be tossed in the trash. Very recommended!
At last, the highly anticipated follow-up to The Noise People Make has arrived!
Cup totally adored their pre-album Pendulum cdep, and after giving the HaHa Sound a first listen she feared that this sophomore effort's brightest highlights might've been packed onto that lil' ep. For instance, the ep's title track bursts forth as the second song on the album and is clearly one of its standouts. It's undeniably irresistible! Thoroughly taken with that song as well as the gloriously obtuse, bloopy electronic instrumentals, she initially found herself somewhat disoriented with the rest that followed (as you might be able to tell 'cause she's speaking about it in the third person), but then she gave it a second spin... and the album blossomed before her very eyes/ears!
Vocalist Trish Keenan murmurs and sings in her wistful, lullaby-perfect voice that nears the clarity and sweetness of Karen Carpenter or Julee Cruise. It's the perfect foil for the fizzing and churning backdrop of analog synths, guitars, bass and percussion created by Roj Stevens, Tim Felton, James Cargill and Steve Perkins - tipping their collective hat to '60s Brill Building girl groups, the grand sentimental lovey-dovey-ness of Bacharach, and Esquivelian space age bachelor pads everywhere. Broadcast skillfully craft glistening, starry-eyed music that swirls and creaks like an old carousel, but just as ably veer off into more eccentric, trippy territory a la Bruce Haack, Raymond Scott and Joe Meek (psst, this contrast is perfectly exemplified at the meeting between songs 7 and 8 - "Lunch Hour Pops" and "Black Umbrellas" - check 'em out!). Perhaps the time has come that the occlusive "Stereolab Jr." tag they've been saddled with (granted, quite aptly so) may be tossed in the trash. Very recommended!
Greetings! This is installment #42 in the Return To Sender series from Germany's Normal Records. A spartan and intimate solo work, Wandering As Water features Mr. Chris Brokaw accompanying himself on just acoustic guitar and tambourine. Along with his originals, he covers songs by Jorma Kaukonen, Fred Neil and his former band Come (fyi: he was also in Codeine), but the fifteen song long album flows seamlessly.
Andee thought it sounded a bit like acoustic Goo Goo Dolls. You'll have to ask him whether that's a good or bad thing.
Limited pressing of 2000.
Yes, it's the fellow from that Nickelodeon children's show Blue Clues, and yes, he is an admitted big fan of the Flaming Lips. So what does an admitted big FL fan and respectable songwriter who wants to shift career paths do? Answer: Hook up with his heroes (or a couple of his heroes namely the Lips' Steven Drozd and producer Dave Fridmann - if you were really cynical you might be saying "heh, bring in the ringers why doncha?" but I'm sure you're/we're not... really!), record his own debut album and capture the attention of the Play It Again Sam America record label to release it. Sometimes it's that... er... easy.
At any rate, this album suits us just fine, thank you very much. The first few songs lean very heavily on the Flaming Lips/Fridmann blow-out sonic grandeur. Big clouds of fluttering textures and snare drum shuffles linger just above Burns' boyish, sincere voice and the soothing melodies played out on piano, strummed acoustic guitar and thickly distorted electric guitar. However, further on into 'Dustmites you'll find tunes that seem much more personal to Burns both lyrically and stylistically. As the album progresses, things generally mellow out into gentle, down-to-earth, sweetly romantic singer/songwriter stuff, but Burns definitely has some twisted pop sensibilities of his own.
Deceptively haphazard, crafty indie rock is alive and well... and it's comin' at ya via this new band from Austin, TX called Canoe... and it's comin' by way of Amazing Grease Records, the label run by Scott Kannberg (formerly of Pavement -- arguably the kings of deceptively haphazard, crafty indie rock). Does that give you some inkling of what Canoe are up to? Listening to I Give You... Canoe! you get the vague sense that were you to witness them in the live setting, they'd be far more inebriated than you. Case in point, their song "Corndogs Are Our Friends"! A super trashy blown-out ode to deep fried weiners. Through the fuzzy haze of distortion, you catch a nifty keyboard hook here, a crunchy guitar riff there and some very GBV/Robert Pollard-ish vocals throughout. Loosely slung, devil-may-care, and fueled by many a six-pack.
A little odds and ends collection from one of our favorite emo bands. Lots of soaring, sad boy vocals, BIG guitars, almost-metal riffery, melancholy melodies, and catchy punky pop. Think Sunny Day Real Estate, the Get Up Kids, and that sort of thing. This disc collects all the Casket Lottery's tracks from comps and splits, a handful of unreleased tracks, some demos, and lots of wicked covers, the Cure, the Police, Government Issue, Kill Creek, Shudder To Think and a brutal spot-on cover of Helmet's In The Meantime with vocals courtesy of Coalesce's Sean Ingram. Nice.
At long last, we've received the new, second album from the French instrumental post-rock duo Cheval De Frise. (With the help of an free internet translator and my meager high school French, I can confidently proclaim that their name means, uh, "Horse of Curls" in English. Hmm. Furthermore, the title of this record, I am sure, means "Frescos On The Secret Partitions Of The Skull".) Their previous album on Sonore was a fave 'round here, falling somewhere between Don Cab and Gastr del Sol... This new disc is, we're happy to report, more of the same: acoustic guitars (and electric) vs. drums, both very active and complex yet quite pretty too, the tangle they make. Dynamic and detailed, Cheval de Frise rock out with the elegance of a math equation scribbled on a doily. Imagine an introspective, high-end-eq'd Ruins, or a Hella with hitherto unrevealed, somewhat mellow and romantic qualities. Look for a US release of this, on Frenetic in October...something we learned only after we got these imports, which at least aren't especially pricey.
More obscure '70s stoner stuff here. Clear Blue Sky made but one LP, this 1970 Vertigo label release now reissued in one of those miniature-gatefold-LP-styled cd jackets by Akarma. It's heavy, psychedelic, blues-based rock in the classic British power trio format. Boisterous, wild, trippy jamming from three eager eighteen-year-olds, bolstered by weird prog elements (odd changes, some flute) and studio trickery, such as the glitchy bit that occurs early in part II of "Journey To The Inside Of The Sun". They do a track entitled "Sweet Leaf" but it bears no relation to Black Sabbath's song of the same name, aside from the inspiration we'd suppose -- tea, right? Fans of early Sabbath (whose record label they shared) still may well dig this, though it's rather more like the not-so-doomy, less-metallic likes of Budgie, Blue Cheer and Cream (though not quite yet in that league). And, as with so many of our favorite records, this boasts Roger Dean cover art featuring a castle and flying dragons, that looks a bit like he did it when he was 12 years old but is actually pretty great.
And now we continue our re-visiting of the Cocteau Twins' recent reissues... Without question, on this the Cocteau Twins' third album originally released in 1984, Elizabeth Fraser's vocal performance nears the sublime. You may not be able to decipher a single word of her secret tongue, but waves of emotion crash and swirl gloriously around you nevertheless. Each element - guitar, voice, bass and percussion - is perfectly executed and arranged. Truly stunning and almost magical, it's an enduring classic that more than lives up to its name.
Second release from this droning duo. Coelacanth is our very own Jim Haynes and AQ pal Loren Chasse (Jewelled Antler, Blithe Sons, Thuja, Franciscan Hobbies, Id Battery et al). Four extended tracks of gorgeous space-y drone-y almost-ambience. Forests of cricket-like chirps are blurred into smeary ambient washes of cool greys and pale whites, beneath smatterings of clinking clicking clatter. Keening, indistinct moaning tones sound like distant foghorns, reflected from the slowly shifting terrain. Underwatery warped sonic shudders billow outward as vague melodies drift and float, chiming and reverberating, eventually dissipating into misty clusters of ethereal almost transparent notes. Hissing, fuzzy high end buzz whirs machinelike over industrial clatter that has been smoothed out into pulsing, barely-there rhythms. So so nice. All of the sounds were collected from various public and private Coelacanth performances over the last couple years, before being assembled into the Glass Sponge. Released by local sound art nonprofit 23five.
Comprised of three SF scene vets, Wendy Farina, Kurt Keppeler and Joshua Richardson, the group rumble, churn and jolt through eight brooding, dissonant songs. Each song is darkly catchy, built around a wall of buzzing, hissing analog synths and thick bass guitar through which the trio sneer, shout and spit out their vocals. Frantic and quite carnivalesque at times, and yes, very Fall and Sonic Youth influenced too. If you've enjoyed the very late 70s/early 80s-ish live-wire art-punk angularities from recent Bay Area bands like Erase Errata, Numbers or Phantom Limbs, Condor might be just the thing for you!
This new Country Teasers album -- also mysteriously known as Full Moon Empty Sportsbag -- might not be everybody's cup of tea/moonshine/battery acid. There's barked, snarled, moaned and mumbled vocals not unlike what you might expect from your old cantankerous uncle after he's had a bit of a tipple. The music is made to match - ill-tempered, dissonant and trashy, and very high on treble. Garage-y organ drones hang ominously like rain-soaked bedsheets on a clothesline. Slack guitars skreee and hang loosely like the gristly remnants clinging to the bones of a bbq rib fest. Some folks thought this was Ween doing another hillbilly romp (check out "Please Stop Fucking Each Other" - no, they're not too concerned with pleasantries, are they?!). Bristlingly raw and ramshackle in both sound and visuals. You can see the magic marker inking fix-it job on the front cover as well as the pixillated and bled-through text on the back. This has drawn some very emphatically positive in-store responses (one customer said "I love this! it's a fucking mess!") as well as some incredibly icy ones. So consider yourself forewarned, this may put either a grumpy scowl or a gleeful grin on your face.
As if that great new Isis record weren't enough, we've also finally managed to procure a few copies of this, the hard-to-find 2001 debut album by Swedish metalcore outfit Cult Of Luna, a band definitely in the heavier-than-thou, art-metal mode of fellow tortured souls Isis and mentors Neurosis (circa "Enemy Of The Sun"). Unrelenting waves of mid-to-slow-paced guitar/bass/drum punishment provide the backdrop to the vocalist's throaty screams of pain. Even with the piano and cello that decorate portions of this album, and the occasional quiet interludes offering false respite from their sheer HEAVINESS, it's pretty much a doomy trip of massive, suicidally depressing proportions, with cold, sad melodies making them not unlike a metalcore version of fellow morose countrymen Katatonia. Yeah, Katatonia + Neurosis, that about sums 'em up!
As far as we can tell, we're pretty darn sure there are no Russian emperors present in this Denver, CO band's roster, but if it's any concession, there are five very talented musical fellows. On this their second full length, there's definite shades of the kaleidoscopic yet richly earthy scope of Pink Floyd as well as the lilting rock grandeur of Radiohead. All of that said though, in-store play has also drawn a couple of customer comparisons to the lush mellowness of Calexico. The lovely gentle horns, reverbed atmospheric pedal steel and piano surely don't hurt matters in that department. Lead vocalist John Grant has one of those voices that's so warm, deep and velvety, there's no question he could break your heart simply by singing his grocery list. That's what Cup thinks anyways. On the other hand, Jim thinks he sounds like John Denver! Cup thinks the only things remotely John Denver-ish are Paula Frazer's vocal harmonies on "Lullaby 6000" (more on that song in a bit). Imagine equal parts Thom Yorke, Rufus Wainwright, and Roy Orbison. Aaaah, that's a voice that packs quite a wallop! The Czars generally keep things wonderfully gentle and laidback - getting more so as the album progresses and allowing the listener to gradually sink into its gorgeous melancholia. Lots of guests added their vocal and instrumental two bits worth (and more). For instance, Ms Frazer sings on three of the twelve songs. Please do yourself a huge favor and give the abovementioned song "Lullaby 6000" your full attention! Absolutely breathtaking! Also appearing: Ron Miles, Rick Benjamin (of Elephant 6 Collective galore), Glen Taylor, Elin Palmer, and oh yes, and did we mention... Simon Raymonde (of Cocteau Twins) and Giles Hall who also co-produced. Originally released in the UK on Raymonde's Bella Union label, and now finding it's home on Manifesto. Don't your ears need this album?
This probably doesn't need an introduction, as Dashboard Confessional's songwriter Christopher Carraba has graced the cover of Spin and about a million other magazines as well as lurking around MTV. Yup, he's marketing himself as the safe, sensitive, pretty boy of punk, balancing the tough-as-fuck image complete with his full-arm tattoo sleeves with his Hallmark puppy-dog eyes and his acousticky emo heartbreak. "A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar" is the grandest statement to date for Carraba's outfit, which honestly isn't saying all that much, considering that his previous outfits were more potential than actual substance. That said, Carraba is going for the same type of theatrical crescendos, dynamic riffs, and pregnant pauses that really made Sunny Day Real Estate such an archetype of emo. Given that Vagrant has joined forces with TVT to promote this album, you won't need us to tell you any more about this record; an army of unpaid interns will be doing it for us.
Got just a handful of this super limited cd-r from AQ pal Smolken and his folk/metal/ambient ensemble Dead Raven Choir. This one is all dark and skeletal appalachian folk, purposefully plucked steel string notes hovering motionless in the muggy, dusky air, murky reverbed piano, hushed urgently whispered vocals, and creepy, creaking ambience. Dark and intensely intimate. We only have 7 copies so once they're gone they're gone for good.
Woah. The "what the fuck?!" meter is going off the scale here. Ephel Duath -- no, we don't know what that name means exactly -- are from Italy and this is their second album. They're a black metal band. So far, so good, so what. Then take a listen. THIS is black metal?? More like metalcore (the screaming vocals), prog (the schitzo song structures), and/or jazz (the horns, the drumming). Let's talk about the drummer -- the dude's a jazz drummer pushing 50, who never played a metal "date" before. Well, he shows up quite a few metal drummers with this performance. And, to backtrack, yes we said horns. Total Miles Davis In A Silent Way trumpet, y'know... Then there's also everything from prettily melodic sensitive male vocals to skittering electronic beats to funk bass to ambient synth drone to, oh yeah, epic symphonic black metal thrown in. Could be a mess, yet somehow, somehow, it works, for us anyway. They just have a knack for mixing all these ingredients just right so that the results stick in your ear. Call 'em songs, even though they don't sound much like most songs out there. So, if your listening diet contains some or better yet all of the following, you're pretty much meant to buy this Ephel Duath disc: Arcturus, Naked City, Maudlin Of The Well, Mr. Bungle, Melt Banana, Yakuza, Neurosis, Sigh, Dillinger Escape Plan, Radiohead, Opeth, Emperor... Yeah, Opeth with jazzy trumpet and more of an ADD, John Zorn styled songwriting approach, that might be a good shorthand description of this Ephel Duath thingie.
Our friends in Finland are a prolific lot. From the label that just brought us that wonderful Magyar Posse album, comes another band, this time with some familiar faces -- it features members of Circle, Ektroverde, Pharaoh Overlord, Kirvasto and Keuhkot. Eturivi, however, have their own weird sound. Creaking, creepy stuff, with droning science fictional tool shop electronics and glitchy rhythms. Electric organ, rattling percussion, plinking guitars all make for a mysterious background to the equally mysterious voices you'll hear. This has what seems like a bit of a theatrical aspect, with dramatic vocals declaiming something in Finnish (we presume) over the junkyard folk music. It's kinda quiet (in a noisy way though), until the next to last track, "Lian Jaljilla", when chugging guitars kick in and Eturivi fully reveals their Circle lineage, dealing out distorted stabs of motorik spacerock. The prevalence of spoken foreign-language vocals might not make this as accessible as some of Jussi & co.'s other projects -- you do feel like you're missing something by not understanding the words -- but it's still one that lots of fans will want to add to their shelf-ful of Finnish weirdness.
MPEG Download: "Saavutus" [/audio/eturivisaavutus.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Saavutus" [/audio/eturivisaavutus.m3u]
Latest from these local death/thrash favorites, one of the Bay Area's current big time underground metal exports. Gory Carcass-lovin' metal as you'd expect. Divebomb guitars, teeth-gnashing drums, it's the sort of stuff headbangers and hairtwirlers can't help but like. Nothing new, nothing surprising, but fast and furious and executed to perfection.
Yet another grimy blast of drugged out psychedelia from unheralded underground psych gods F/i. This is the third or fourth F/i reissue in the last several months (and definitely Andee's favorite), finally restoring their epic and long out of print back catalog. Why Not Now?...Alan! was originally released on lp way back in 1987 on RRR and suffered sonically from poor mastering, as well as cohesively from the fact that several of the tracks were chopped to fit on a single lp. This cd reissue finds the chopped songs restored to their original extended versions, and the sound remastered and beefed up significantly! F/i around this period were a noisy, abstract, psychedelic juggernaut, equal parts Hawkwind, Lustmord, Skullflower, Amon Duul and a healthy dose of free noise gleeearghhh like some of their RRR labelmates. Glitchy, sputtering, malfunctioning instruments, amp buzz, and crackly bursts of short wave radio whirl chaotically into a sonic supernova, until a propulsive rhythm struggles and emerges from the chaos, a krautrock behemoth, lumbering through a landscape of swirling wah guitars, squalls of shrieking, space-y bleeping swoosh, clattery 'pipe fights', rumbling subsonic drones, super distorted drum / car horn industrial crunch and all manner of drugged out grit, but throughout it all, the hypnotic riff powers on, head down, chugging into oblivion. Think a massively damaged Neu! Or maybe Hawkwind on a really, really bad trip, or Circle, drugged and forced at gunpoint to do their best Agitation Free until their fingers bleed, or Amon Duul II, if instead of German hippies, their commune consisted mostly of American noise rockers from the eighties. As the record progresses, some of the extraneous noise is shed in favor of a more sleek psych/kraut rock, relentless and hypnotic, repetitive and mesmerising, but even streamlined, it still sounds seriously damaged and dangerous. Fucking awesome.
"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.
A gorgeous triple lp reissue in a nice thick sleeve and on 180 gram virgin vinyl! As we said previously about the double cd version of this that is also currently available, this is an ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL collection of cerebral low-brow art punk masterpieces. These tracks are culled from the tumultuous Rough Trade years (1980-83), when every record The Fall put out was a work of total genius. "Totally Wired" has almost every track from the "Palace of Swords Reversed" lp, which compiled their early singles, but includes album tracks from "Grotesque" and "Perverted By Language" as well. This era was the high point of Mark E. Smith's merciless skewering of the english language and English culture, perfectly backed by brilliantly ramshackle pop deconstructions. Single riff mastery, early keyboard dickery, anti-imperialist ranting, time travelling tales, primitively demented but danceable bass lines-- all part of The Fall's impeccable post-punk package. "Totally Wired" is by no means a comprehensive look at The Fall's massive recorded outlook, or even at their early years ("Dragnet" and "Live at the Witch Trials" are two great records from before they were on Rough Trade), but damn if it doesn't have a giant chunk of their very best songs. Mark E. may still drag himself around making mediocre records, but let that not muddy the legacy of The Fall. This stuff is just too fucking amazing!
Hailing from the same city that popped out Hot Hot Heat, Frog Eyes bring forth an altogether different sound from their Victoria, BC brethren. Imagine a baroque hybrid of the Brit-inflected melodrama of Interpol or Pulp and the more dissonant, hand-wringing instabilities of Xiu Xiu. Very high on moody affectation with the focus squarely on the vocals. In addition to the deeply emotional croon and warble of those mentioned above, singer Carey Mercer may also draw comparisons to Tom Waits' hoarsely heart-baring delivery or the slightly smoother sandpaper swoon of Psychedelic Furs' Richard Butler. Lyrics and song titles are somewhat cryptic, obtuse and strangely poetic. The backdrop: electric guitar string churns and howls, shimmery cymbal washes, all anchored by some velvety piano melodies. FYI: More evidence of the Vancouver/Victoria music scene being quite a mighty tight knit family? Neko Case's Corn Sister co-hort Carolyn Mark lent her lovely voice to three songs (check out the luminous fifth song "A Latex Ice Age"), and Ms Mark's bandmate Tolan McNeil engineered the proceedings. Recommended.
Sure Robert Pollard is prolific, but somehow he wears it well. So much better than some of the other record-a-month bands, who shall remain nameless (ahem...acidmotherstemple..ahem). This is Guided By Voices' 15th or so full length record, and that's not including all of the various EP's, live records, side projects and related one-offs. And still, even after all of those releases, the ramshackle pop that Pollard and company seem to be able to pull from their sleeves like a magician's endless scarf, remains fresh and fun, catchy and so fun to listen to. Sure they've mellowed a bit, but c'mon, it's been almost 20 years or something. And while mellower they may be, there's still plenty of rollicking, drunken, off-kilter pop to go around. It's just tempered a bit more this time around by some moody and introspective slow burners. That said, there are no new surprises here, just another batch of great songs from Pollard and company. So folks who dug the last few GBV full lengths, Universal Truths and Cycles, Isolation Drills, Do The Collapse and the rest will just find they have even more GBV to love!
And let's not forget to mention Pollard's recent transformation into the indie rock Willy Wonka! Five copies of this first limited digipak CD (not LP) version of Earthquake Glue will contain a golden ticket, which will entitle the bearer to become the new singer of Guided By Voices! Haha. Just kidding. Not really. That would be amazing though. No, the owners of the golden tickets will receive a free copy of the forthcoming 5 CD / DVD box set Hardcore UFO's, which will contain their never before available on cd debut, the Watch Me Jumpstart documentary and tons more! So, good luck! ...maybe you should by two of these to improve your chances of winning...
I have to say that the whole Neil Hamburger 'thing' works a lot better when left to the imagination. While Mr. Hamburger in the flesh comes reasonably close to how you might picture him, it's impossible for him to be as cartoonishly pathetic, and brutally sad and rundown as I always imagined he would be. That said, this document is suitably depressing, and brutal and really funny, but funny in that trainwreck sort of way. Nicely shot, with lots of hilarious interviews of dog track patrons who could care less about Neil Hamburger. The one down side is the hipster filled audience, who of course, like you and me, find Hamburger's unbearable unfunniness pretty darn hilarious, but which kind of defeats the whole concept of there being REAL hecklers and dead silence after every joke. The jokes definitely still suck, that's the point after all, but that amazing Neil Hamburger aura of pathetic-and- depressing-bus-stop-nightclub-comic-playing-for-old-ladies-waiting-for-the-midtown-express-night after-night-drinking-himsef-into-a-stupor is sort of ruined by hooting and heckling indie rockers. Thankfully that problem can easily be corrected with the alternate audio tracks. You can choose from Stadium Applause, Mexican Guy or Japanese Girl! Really. Pretty funny actually. There are some DVD extras, the coolest being a mini-documentary about the dog track, the trainers and the various dogs.
As commonplace as glitched electronica is these days (even rock bands are now 'glitching things up' to sound more avant garde), a handful of these abstractionists have dedicated themselves to understanding the parameters of their tools and attempting to improve upon that which has come before. For several years now, this elite has included Fennesz and Stephan Mathieu, with Ekkehard Ehlers often exhibiting glimmers of similar electronic brilliance; however, Canadian electron wrangler Tim Hecker has come into his own with an equally strong aesthetic and a series of amazing releases. Outside his microhouse moniker Jetone, Hecker has released three records to date under his own name, beginning with the exceptional Fennesz worship of "Haunt Me, Haunt Me Do It Again" and the shellshocked obliteration of Van Halen (quite literally!) on "My Love Is Rotten To The Core", however, "Radio Amor," Hecker's third album, may be even his best yet. Through an immensely rich set of reverb and granular synthesis patches, Tim Hecker has rendered the digital blip into a blissed out field of electric drones and warm, white noise. Throughout "Radio Amor," Hecker has ripped apart clustered notes from a piano and suspended them in the ether of an electricity, and occasionally the warm buzzings of analogue distortion emerge from the rippling, digitized vibrations. Half melodies, algorithmic ping-pong tones, and hard disc skips are all bathed with a radiant luster of electrified golds and coppers. Totally gorgeous.
MPEG Download: "(They Call Me) Jimmy" [/audio/timheckertheycall.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "(They Call Me) Jimmy" [/audio/timheckertheycall.m3u]
MPEG Download: "I'm Transmitting Tonight" [/audio/timheckerimtrans.mp3]
That rad Sacto duo Hella is back, guitar and drums just goin' for it in a punk-prog stylee. You can still use Lightning Bolt and the Ruins as comparisons, but with the added instrumentation -- noisy, new wavey synths -- they're getting further away from the Bolt template. All instrumental save for some funny voices bookending the tracks, this album is just as kinetic and hyperchaotic as their previous output, veering into a bit o' Carl Stalling style cartoon music as befits the title. 7 songs in just under 20 minutes, plus for those with computers, a live video clip for "Brown Metal" from their first album. Definitely a treat for those into drums, math, and spinning around until you're dizzy. FUN!
Hot Hot Heat's contributions to this split cd feature their earlier temper-tantrum vocals (courtesy of former HHH vocalist Matty Marnik) and darkly catchy Juno 60 keyboard lines (courtesy of current vocalist Steve Bays) -- very angstful and angular late 90s San Diego / post punk influenced (a la Gold Standard Laboratories label). Recorded back in 2000, these songs are a great deal more abrasive, flailing and uneven than those on their recent finely tuned, punchy pop album Make Up The Breakdown, but this older material fits well with the other band with whom they share this cd. The Red Light Sting are HHH's friends and fellow Vancouverites. Their sound is quite similar to HHH as mentioned above, but it's got much more aggressive hardcore tendencies like Convocation Of, The VSS or The Locust, but add female vocals to the already blistering fray. Check 'em out! Oh, by the way, we also wanted to let you know that this is an enhanced cd that includes live footage. Pop it into your computer and go!
Lotsa folks we know seemed real excited about the prospect of this reissue. Apparently this 1981 album, a collaboration between Hudson and fellow Jamaican turned Yank Lloyd Barnes (Wackies), was reknowned as an especially far-out dub treatment, way gone on the studio fuckery as these things go. Having now heard it, we agree that the production IS a big part of this record's appeal. But it's not THAT experimental, really. We think it's just as great that it's such a sunny n' soulful slice of Jamaican vocal/groove reggae. Sure it's super dubbed out at a times, with sped up/slowed down tapes, massive echo fx, filters, distortion, all that good stuff, but these songs are also really soulful and smooth, funky even. Actually, we're really reminded of the loose, swampy sound of Funkadelic's early efforts. Productionwise, this is druggy, sure -- not as wasted as the LSD-fried production of Funkadelic's "Free Your Mind And Your Ass Will Follow", but close at times. Anyway we're talking about dub reggae here, laid back and head noddin'. Dub fans take note, this is a good 'un. It's over a half-hour long but seems kinda short just 'cause it's so good and groovy that you just want it to keep on keeping on...but that's what the repeat button is for. So, excellent call on the part of Basic Channel's new Jamaican reissue imprint Basic Replay for making this album available again!
On the evidence of his unwieldy catalog of atonal folk damage and lithium soaked vocalizations, it's not an uncommon assumption that Jandek has absolutely no clue about music, but rather has stuck with the same untrained ethos of raw expressionistic power since his debut album "Ready For This House." However, albums like "The Place" hold a few obscure, revelatory keys into the mysteries of Jandek, offering the possibility that the entire catalogue of Jandek records is far from untrained, but quite deliberate and maybe even musical.
As it's hard to say just exactly how old Jandek is, given his hermetic reluctance to speak to the media, the best guess places him in his late 40s with the assumption that he began recording in 1978 in his early '20s. Age is clearly a factor for "The Place," not so much as a lyrical theme in Jandek's songs; but rather, it's a simple fact that he's getting older and his voice is growing deeper. Just as Leonard Cohen and Michael Gira have shifted the key of the mature songs to accompany their lowered voices, Jandek has downtuned his guitar to match his voice. The sounds of him scrabbling across the strings with an indifferent half-strummed / half-picked acoustic guitar style are not that different from anything that he's produced in the past 10 years or so. Yet these detacted, angular reconstitutions of folk and blues chords have the distinct musical direction of matching his changing voice. It's a very subtle difference, but one that fans of Jandek should certainly take note of.
One of the few "post rock" bands to play somber organic, electronica-imbued music and have it NOT be background filler, but full of emotion, narrative, texture, and meaning, Germany's Kammerflimmer Kollektief have delivered their prettiest album with Cicadidae. The squiggly processed electronics frolic, sounding like seagulls, over warm violin, harmonium drone, and chattery, shimmering drums. There's saxophone, vibraphone, double bass, all so evocative and melodic. Exploratory experimental jazz bits contrast nicely with the epic lush resolutions, reminding us sometimes of Amon Tobin's quieter moments, also Kreidler, To Rococo Rot, the Tied + Tickled Trio. Windy's new favorite record and one of the most satisfyingly lovely albums since Fridge's Eph. Just listen to that first sound clip and my guess is you'll be hooked.
Hot damn! Wherever you are, The Kills are gonna find you, take you down and sex you up! Keep On Your Mean Side contains a dozen super smokin' gritty blues rock numbers! Yeah, you're no doubt thinking "more goddamn blues rock male/female duos?!" And yes, with White Stripes, Boss Hog et al packing the garage, it's nearing its saturation point. I know! I know! But do yourself a favor throw out that old toboggan and give those buckets of leftover paint the heave-ho 'cause you've gotta make some room for The Kills! We'll admit, we were sleeping on the job back in April when this album came out, but their most recent ep "Fried My Little Brains" sure snapped up to attention. A major part of the success of The Kills sound is the vocal chemistry between the myteriously named VV and Hotel (aka Alison Mosshart formerly of Discount and Jamie Hince). She sings, speaks and moans in her great, slightly broken voice - so throaty and soulful and not unlike P.J. Harvey, it just might leave you reeling - and his mildly British oft-muttered delivery is the perfect foil. A fantastic smoldering, down'n'dirty debut.
Like we mentioned last list, we have been going Sixteen Horsepower CRAZY, with a recent archival 16HP release, two Woven Hand records (the apocalyptic, biblical side project of 16HP singer David Eugene Edwards) as well as last list's Lilium record, the side project of 16HP bassist Pascal Humbert, a dark and harrowing, instrumental, swamp folk epic, that if you haven't picked up yet, you should, 'cause it's as good as the Woven Hand records, and is mighty tough to get, so we can't be sure how long we'll have them or if we run out, how long it will take to get more. This time around, we are lucky to have tracked down record number two from Lilium, which is brand spanking new and is a slight departure from the growling, rumbling, creepy sinister-folk of their previous record. Fear not, there's still plenty of atmosphere, rickety campfire strum, and moody darkness, it's just much smoother and it's a bit more traditionally pretty. Humbert has recruited his 16HP bandmate Jean-Yves Tola for this record making this essentially 2/3 Sixteen Horsepower, so to a certain degree you have a rough idea of what this sounds like. The big change is the vocals. Or should I say the vocalists. That's right vocalists. Unlike their instrumental debut, which was sort of more 'sound' than 'song', they really flex their songwriting muscles on Short Stories and craft some gorgeously dark and melancholy pop songs, sung beautifully, and swathed in that dark hazy atmosphere we know and love so well. Maybe the nicest surprise is vocalist Kal Calhoone, a dead ringer for Cat Power's Chan Marshall, but with a little PJ Harvey swagger thrown in. And PJ Harvey is kind of an apt comparison for some of these tunes, smoldering and moody, emotional and urgent, with Calhoone's husky whisper weaving tales of sorrow and despair. 16HP's David Eugene Edwards sings on one song and since that basically makes it Sixteen Horsepower, it might just be the strongest cut on the record, as good as anything they've ever recorded as a proper band. The rest of the record follows the same brambly path, with lush, and dreamy, slightly doomy tableaus, fingerpicked guitars, shuffling percussion, wheezing accordions, rumbling cellos, organs, slippery slide guitar, raspy, drawled vocals, and heavily reverbed pianos, totally mesmerising and sweetly melodic. Very reminsicent of Black Heart Procession, Calexico, Low and American Music Club. Highly recommended as was the last Lililium. Features guests from Morphine, Deus, and the Czars.
A previous Mutek release found the minimalist techno outfit Goem collaborating with a number of artists who simply stopped by Goem's hotel room during the 2001 Mutek festival. While Goem's record had all of the good natured intentions of warm comradery, it fell flat as a poor recapitulation of Goem's micro-techno. Fortunately, the second effort between artists collaborating in a hotel room during the 2002 Mutek festival is a much better offering. With none of the blunted hip-hop rhythms of Timeblind, none of Radboud Mens' fragile minimalist techno, and few slivers of Janek Schaefer's bleak sonic abstractions, the dominant aesthetic is that of Stephan Mathieu, which is totally fine by us! As a result, "Quality Hotel" is a delicate affair of fizzing digital ambience, with samples that flicker, twist, and bloom into sleepy drones cracked with miniscule glitches and glassine vibrations. It's a very subdued record, but is is just as good as any of Mathieu's previous outings.
Everyone here at Aquarius was SO happy and relieved when the Musee Mechanique -- that wonderful place full of antique penny-aracade machines that's one of our favorite San Francisco cultural/fun spots -- found a new home at Fisherman's Wharf. Previously it had been a highlight to a trip out to the historic Cliff House next door to the ruined Sutro Baths up above Ocean Beach, but the Park Service decided the Cliff House needed a renovation and gave the Musee an eviction notice. Thankfully, rather than close up, they managed to make a move down to the Wharf, which while not as picturesque a location, still seems to have worked out well for 'em. You'll now find the Musee at pier 45, shed A, right alongside the Jeremiah O'Brien and that WWII submarine. Not only did the Musee find a new home, but now they've released a third volume of recordings documenting the player-piano-roll operated mechanical musical contraptions you'll find there. Vols. 1 and 2 were hits here at AQ and with good reason. Vol. 3 picks up where they left off, featuring more of the music made by their collection of lovingly preserved orchestras-in-a-box from decades and decades ago. For the first time ever, the machine pictured on the cover, the huge and impressive "Englehardth", finally appears in all its sonic glory on disc, as they finally got it fully restored into working order.
As with the other volumes, these are excellent recordings and each track starts with the coin drop, a nice touch. Musically, you can expect lotsa charming old timey tunes with titles like "Maurice's Irresistable Tango", "Grandpa's Spells", "There's A Shanti In Old Shantitown" and "My Song Of The Nile". Some you'll recognize, some won't be so familiar. All are quite quaint to modern ears, yet lively and spirited. There's 27 musical tracks here, from jaunty foot tappers to romantic melodies -- and then as always, the Musee's mascot, Laughing Sal, wraps things up with her disturbingly forced, truly hysterical laughter. Next best thing to actually visiting the Musee Mechanique, which we highly recommend.
As we recently listed My Bloody Valentine's hard to find collection "Ecstacy and Wine" as well as their masterpiece "Loveless," it's about time that we got "Isn't Anything" into the Aquarius Records archives.
I seem to remember an odd anecdote about the recording process of this album, that it was recorded somewhere in the outskirts of their native Dublin near a sheep farm and the band ended up crashing at the studio throughout the entire recording session. Yet, their sleep patterns were constantly interrupted by the incessant bleating of those sheep, and the collective insomnia contributed to the lethargy and torpor found within "Isn't Anything." Of course, I've been unable to verify this story with anything factual, but this album sure does sound sleepy, mostly sliding towards the realm of deep slumber, but occasionally hopped-up on punchy sleep-deprived nerves.
In the name of revisionist history, "Isn't Anything" stands as the transition album between the gilded jangle of "Ecstacy and Wine" and the radioluminescence of "Loveless." My Bloody Valentine had begun to bury much of their emulation of '60s psychedelic pop in Sonic Youth mack-truck riffage and intertwining guitar haze that upstages the Velvet Underground strum-as-drone. Tracks like "Feed Me With Your Kiss" and "Sueisfine" thickly blur the sad lullaby vocals from Kevin Shields and Bilinda Butcher through overblown bass distortion and strangely uptempo rhythms. Yet, My Bloody Valentine will instantly glide out of these into the shoegazing drone-pop of something like "Lose My Breath" with its tone bending extended chords and lack of pronounced rhythms. Only a couple of the songs on "Isn't Anything" are as memorable as those found on "Loveless," but there are plenty of swirling dreamy-pop songs that make this album a treat for shoegazing fans!
More stoned, spaced out, rhythmic free-rock bliss out from AQ faves the No Neck Blues Band. This is a live set from a year or two back released only on lp. Mr. A Fan unfurls like a thick, warm blanket of fuzz, with subtle thumps and rattles, mumbled, incoherent vocalising, druggy guitars and underneath it all, a doggedly steady rhythm turning what would otherwise be a hippy-ish mess, into some primo modern krautrock. Think Reynols covering German Oak or Jandek jamming with the 'Dead or Yahowah playing the Amon Duul songbook or Hawkwind unplugged. Weird and wild and wooly and beautifully fucked up. And as always, so totally great! Sorry, we only have 3 copies still hanging around, so act fast!
Early '70s jazz rock fusion from this British band, pioneers in the field, who later contributed members to Soft Machine. With an instrumental line-up that included trumpet, piano, oboe, sax, flute, bass, guitar, and drums, this never before released live 1971 radio concert recording demonstrates the funky rhythmic drive of the band, and features some of the wild acid guitar skronk of the legendary Ray Russell in his only recorded (and previously unknown) appearance with Nucleus! With him on board, this is not quite so loose and out-limits pushing as Miles' 70s rock/jazz ensembles, but gettin' there.
We only have two of these in stock and we got them directly from Ms O'Neil. We're not sure if we'll be able to get more, so act fast. And if you're not one of the first two lucky customers, be prepared to wait a while (if we can indeed get more). This is a gorgeous collection of Tara Jane O'Neil's drawings, paintings and prose all beautifully printed and published in a really nice oversized soft cover book, imported from Japan. Psst, there's also a lil' 3" cd tucked away in the back cover too, with three brand new exclusive tunes!!
Oooh this is good. Haunting, gentle, abstract-seeming but musically very pretty stuff, in the vein of the best folk/drone from Tower Recordings and Kemialliset Ystavat, Popul Vuh and Brian Eno. Perhaps you've heard the Atrium Musicae "Musique de la Grece Antique" disc? This too sounds like imaginary ancient music, maybe made by wood-spirits before the dawn of man. An elemental, atmospheric sonic ritual. Of is the new solo project of AQ-pal Loren Chasse. You might know him from Thuja, Id Battery, Blithe Sons, Child Readers, Coelacanth, numerous other "Jewelled Antler" projects... There was an Of track on Jewelled Antler's Heat & Birds compilation, and this cd-r is the debut full-length release from Of, dedicated to Loren's grandmother who passed away recently. Now maybe you're wondering, doesn't Loren already record solo as under his own name, putting out stuff like that great Hedge of Nerves cd on Anomalous, so what's with this Of moniker? Well, with Of, Loren takes the field recording / experimental sound collage ideas that he brought to Id Battery and his previous solo projects and brings it into a live-recorded, improvised *musical* context, where --this is important-- in addition to minidisc and contact mic, he's also playing more traditional sorts of musical instruments. Kinda like a one-man Thuja, or Blithe Sons or Child Readers. There's guitar, oud, bells, harp, pipes, whistles, bowed wires, harmonium, drumkit, and a 150 year old mellodion (pump organ) employed here, plus the usual assortment of rocks, sticks, and other natural debris that Loren "plays". Also to be heard is record crackle from an old Victrola, and recordings of wind and water made by his mother on her sailboat. All lovingly lo-fi home (and outdoors -- in California, Maryland, and Pennsylvania) recorded and mixed with handheld tape recorder, mindisc, and computer. Sleepy, dark, and meditative, "The Infant Paths" is a perfect example of the Jewelled Antler aesthetic, a musical methodology where lapping water sounds complement harmonium drones and carefully plucked guitar strings; tinkling bells and crackling branches accompany simple, fragile melodies found on broken organ keyboards; where nature and the environment are musical collaborators with poetic souls like Mr. Chasse.
Unlike Blithe Sons or Child Readers, this is all instrumental -- nope, you won't hear any vocals from Loren here, the only singing is done by birds. Someone else (Richard Youngs, Greg Weeks, the Blithe Sons themselves) might have been tempted to sing over these tracks, but they're plenty magical without any wispy vocals or lyrical content. Dense and detailed, suitable for your own dreams and reveries. Wow. We knew he had it in him, but still we're impressed. One of our favorite releases by Mr. Chasse yet!
Although the opening track "HiLO" seems to start things out in a similar fashion, as a whole SunnyPsyOp is definitely not as Numanesque and pop-oriented as Ohgr's previous album Welt. So if you were craving more of the same, unfortunately you'll just have to keep spinning the former 'cause this takes a somewhat different path. However, it's not completely off the map of Ohgr. If you're seeking more of a bridge between Skinny Puppy (the project that Ohgr is best know for, where he recorded as Nivek Ogre) and the abovementioned album - something somewhat more somber and abstract, more skin-crawling and mind-bending - this might be for you. Whereas Welt might've made you want to get up and move about, SunnyPsyOp might make you want to settle down into brood mode with a sturdy set of headphones. Shades of Nivek Ogre's Skinny Puppy roots surface here - perhaps as a result of the recent reunion of said group (that's right, we can expect a new album from Cevin Key, Ogre and co. very shortly! - listen... are those celebratory cheers coming up from the catacombs?). Of course it sounds great. Much like his SP bandmate, sonic craftsman / mad genius Key, Ogre's gained another well-suited, producer / multi-instrumentalist in Mark Walk (Pigface, Ruby). He skillfully fills your ears with rich synthesizer textures, sharply puncturing beats and intricate details and captures Ogre's deeply emotive and affected voice in fine form. With cover art by Camille Rose Garcia. Includes a video for the track "Majik".
This release on Polish label Perunrun comes to us via AQ pal Smolken who is Dead Raven Choir. One Each Of Shadow are DRC labelmates in Poland and share a similar aesthetic although OEOS are essentially a pop band, but sort of a slowcore pop band, all murky and dreary and reverby. Creeping lugubrious basslines, whispery, heavily affected vocals, dreamy, swampy ambient backgrounds, simple shuffling beats, fuzzy far-away horns, smeary indistinct melodies, and repetetive, pulsing, rhythmic arrangements make this a gorgeously hypnotic late night listen. Fans of Low and Codeine, and even Tindersticks or the Blackheart Procession might really dig this.
In a career that has spanned almost a decade, People Like Us (aka Vicki Bennett) has specialized in reconfiguring the audio detritus of BBC talk radio, instructional recordings, Italian exotica, and country/western kitsch. Her rhythmically tinged audio collages rip apart the conventional perceptions of these sounds and expose them as sexually explicit or scatalogical punchlines to absurdist jokes. It's not uncommon for People Like Us to recontextualize a talk show guest gleefully rambling about gardening into a frenzied yet bumbling vocalization of sexual ecstacy. "Stifled Love" is a limited edition, vinyl only release that is her 'love record'. Yet, this is as much of an album about love as Wobbly's "Wild Why" is about hip hop. In other words, People Like Us deconstructs the archetypes of the love song in such a way as to extract a vibrant sense of slapstick humor without devolving into an self-reflexive ironic posture of smart-ass appropriation (i.e. the "Bootleg" phenomenon that was the craze in England during the summer of 2002). At first, Bennett mines the same territory heard in the "Wide Open Spaces" collaboration with Matmos and Wobbly, where clipped samples from various country-western tunes evolved into simple riffs of cowpoke swagger. Yet, jazz crooners and Hawaiian romantica also find their way into Bennett's variety show of plundered material. The highlight of the album is definitely another country reference, as Bennett chops up vocal samples of Dolly Parton and amasses them into a dramatic crescendo of Dolly's unmistakable drawl. Nicely done.
A new brief blast of bizarre brilliance from AQ pal Ergo Phizmiz. The centerpiece of this EP is an Ergo-ized version of a song by another AQ favorite, People Like Us. The already silly, and chopped up musical metaverse of People Like Us gets even more sliced and diced, stuttering and hiccupping, like an outer space, junglized, countrified and funkified dose of acid fried exotica. The other two tracks continue in the demented exotica vein, with carnivalesque loops, kazoo melodies, burping faux horns, cricket like rhythms, and clankety clattery almost industrial chimes and percussion that mutate into slippery slide guitar and woozy melodiousness. Good stuff.
