Turkish psych fans! Here's another one for ya. We've already given the thumbs up to the wonderful Hurel Arsivi album from the Hur-el brothers. Now we've got a cd reissue of their first album, a self-titled longplayer from 196-. It's just as 'exotic' as Hurel Arsivi, but less overtly rock n' roll, being even more ethnic in flavor -- though it's very far from a purely traditional Turkish music recording! There's definitely Western '60s rock influences, but don't expect much in the way of heavy guitar fuzz-fests. Rather, you'll groove to a infectious rhythmic feast with melodious singing that's rooted in 'old school' Middle Eastern music but has a cool sixties pop-era vibe as well.
The sonorous vocals (all in Turkish) are highlighted, backed by every hipster's 'oriental' beat fantasy. 3 Hur-el are equally effective when playing uptempo dances, or much slower, moodier numbers, so the whole disc's a treat.
The new, 2nd album from this Portland (OR) trio sure has gotten under Allan's skin (in a good way). Is that because of the incessant, complex bass lines? The strident yet often lovely vocals? The classically-influenced details? The band's infectious prog-pop chutzpah? All that and more. Yes indeedy, 31 Knots play indie-pop with healthy helpings of prog. That's right, prog -- as in Yes for instance. The press we've seen on this plays up the Yes comparisons, and we'd have to agree, though there's much else going on as well as "Fragile" and "Close To The Edge" worship. Inspiration is drawn from the '80s as well as the '70s, as this possesses a New Wavish pop/punk energy that makes some of this sound like, say, Hot Hot Heat meets Yes. Other names to drop in a review of 31Knots might include: Circus Lupus, Convocation of, King Crimson (their "funkier" side), The Police, Modest Mouse, Party of Helicopters, and Gang Of Four. Maybe. What we're sure of is that 31 Knots are mathy yet catchy, way more compelling and poppy than most post and/or math rock outfits you can imagine. Their sinewy, elegant songwriting is backed up by impressive, precise playing, but, like the best proggers in the '70s, they don't let their obvious instrumental prowess get in the way of writing really good songs, ones with melodic content and emotional depth. There are *lots* of good songs on here -- it was hard to pick the two to make sound samples from! As mentioned above, this is their second album (introducing a new drummer, the guy from Dilute & Natural Dreamers). Somehow we missed their first album but we'll rectify that error asap!
It's been a constant and strangely evolving battle, in one corner, Cannibal Ox, El-P, Mr. Lif and the whole Def Jux crew, while in the other, Dose One, Why, Jel and the ever expanding Anticon stable, all doing their best to bastardise, distort, destroy, and/or reinvent hip hop. And it's been a tough race to call, both camps have lots to offer, bizarre samples, damaged drum loops, and weird and warped flows, from the nasal high pitched whine of Dose One to the langorous drawl of Aesop Rock. And while maybe Anticon would win for straight up weirdness, Def Jux are definitely more likely to sway the hip hop masses over to the darkside, with their mutated take on classic hip hop.
The latest salvo comes in the form of Aesop Rock's Bazooka Tooth, a dense barrage of creepy crawly, lugubrious lo-fi hip hop weirdness, with stuttery, shuffling beats, dreamy eastern melodies and rhythmically machine-like scratching, the whole thing is swathed in a shimmery pot smoke haze like looking at the world through bongwater, everything distorted and dreamy, head nodding and hip swaying, with occasional spatters of crunchy drum and bass and skeletal junkyard funk, all anchored by Aesop's wordy worldly flow. Destroys most of the currently over-hyped avant/underground hip hop whatever (Atmosphere, Buck 65).
Plus how often do you hear a rapper use the word "alacrity"?! Not often enough!!
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Arab Strap's application of their unmistakable hungover dourness to a couple of '80s hard rock megahits -- the ever-brooding Scots cover AC/DC's trademark "You Shook Me All Night Long" and Van Hagar's chart-topper "Why Can't This Be Love?" -- proves to be a somewhat trying experience for the listener. However set those two songs aside, and you're left with three others which fare considerably better. Plus, of course no EP these days can be without an obligatory remix, and The Shy Retirer is no exception... voila, Dirty Hospital contributed a remix of the title track.
We eagerly anticipated this second full-length from SoCal's Avenged Sevenfold, and now that it's here, it proves to be equally as impressive as their AQ-fave debut. If you haven't heard 'em before, these kids are sick experts at blenderizing LA metal/emo/hardcore/pop-punk into something that shouldn't really work but does. It's like Jimmy Eat World meets Iron Maiden meets Pantera meets Get Up Kids. Their blender is friggin' clogged with chunky, chugging guitar riffs, emo vocal choruses, Euro-bright leads, punishing drumming, lush piano interludes, Zakk Wylde pick squeals, Phil Anselmo growls, and MTV-ready pop hooks. It's a total you-got-your-peanut butter-in-my-chocolate kind of thing, and it totally works, crushing you with metallic brutality one moment, lifting you up and wringing your heart with vocal melody the next, bridging the gap between the two with soaring '80s metal guitar harmonies... Avenged Sevenfold might not appeal to people stuck at either extreme end of that spectrum, but the rest of us are lovin' it. There's other hardcore bands attempting to mix these genres, but we think Avenged Sevenfold are the most traditionally metal AND one of the most poppy. Oh, is it at all ironic? Let's just say you can enjoy it on many levels. Maybe they were being fun and ironic before, but now they've realized the commerical potential of their approach. Recommended.
Another review courtesy of our black metal brother Wrest from the mighty Leviathan:
From the wastelands of the cold and frosty midwest, comes Azrael's "Into Shadows Act 1". This is the first of a two part assault, from Lord Samaiza (vocals, guitar) and Algol (vocals, basses, programming). Continuing on from "Obdurate", their first record on the now defunct Desastrious records, this duo's talents have been honed to a razors edge. Discordant melodies, dark and blackened folk, and some truly creepy acoustic shards, all buried under ritualistic�hate howls. Azrael are monoliths, rising far above most U.S. black metal, with their cold vision of grim expression.
Omigod is it THAT time again? When Bananafish rears its ugly head and starts barking nonsense, fascinating nonsense about musicians you quite possibly never heard of before? Yes it is. #17 is upon us, a glorious production: 130 pages plus compact disc. In the magazine, you'll find "information" about, among others, Jazzkammer, Lara Allen, Astro, Towne Dandies, Jason McLean, and Fake Party! (see what we mean?) and lots of stuff "reviewed". On the cd, there's "music" from the All-Star Schnauzer Band, Jazzkammer, Astro, Ragtime Germs, Paul Dutton with Jaap Blonk, Koichi Makigami, Phil Minton and David Moss, and more, including two video clips! Whoo-hoo! Either you're a Bananafish addict and have to have this, or you're gonna buy it 'cause the voices in your head want something to read and listen to. Go for it.
Time to get high. Philly psych-jam outfit Bardo Pond seems to be best appreciated with some THC intake. Or maybe not, we wouldn't know, that's just what we've been told. But certainly, for those of us who don't smoke that stuff, they're one of those bands that could be used as an aural substitute for such illicit substances. Either way, this is definitely stoner rock, of the heavy-lidded, droney, downer variety. Compared to their recent Matador label albums (Set And Setting, Dilate), this new one for ATP seems somewhat heavier and sludgier -- it's one that could be appreciated by those into the likes of Dead Meadow, Sleep or even Electric Wizard. Yet it's still downy soft, too, with folky, acoustic songs living among (or within) the massive electric-psych-guitar wash ones. Delicate female vocals from flautist Isobel drift o'er the mellowed out, doped up distortion. It's as airy as it is hairy. Loping, slumbrous, gentle, melancholic, blissful, hazy... What Sleep was to Black Sabbath's "Lord Of This World", much of this is to Sabbath's "Solitude". Bardo fans of course will like, and even if you haven't been that into Bardo Pond before, we'd say this is defintely one to check out. Maybe their best in a while. Real nice. Play loud.
Tigerbeat 6 brings you a new ep from hardcore to freaky ambient turncoats Black Dice. Featuring sounds processed and tweaked with oudated electronics, ungrounded electrical buzz, and showcasing a big ol' tribal drum circle (uh oh). After an extended intro of floating tones, the second track brings us some of the fucked up noise rock that was conspicuously absent from a recent show here in SF. What will become of Black Dice? Will the youthful fashionistas learn to love the new Black Dice, or will they turn their backs? This 3" is one teeny piece of the continuing saga.
Besides having one of the best record covers in recent memory, a fanged mouth with dark viscous blood, dripping down the chin, spelling out THE BRONX, the Bronx also happen to be one of the heaviest, catchiest sort-of-punk-rock bands of the last year. Think a metalcore Strokes, or a poppier Coalesce, or some bastard offspring of Rocket From The Crypt, Quicksand, and the Hives. Garage-y AND poppy AND punky but so crunchy and heavy and completely kick ass. Recommended.
Everyone's fave one-man band Owen Ashworth returns with his third full length. In the two years since he departed SF and shortly thereafter released his sophomore effort Pocket Symphonies For the Lonesome Subway, he's become one very well-travelled fellow (actually as we speak, he's over in Japan touring with Xiu Xiu!), and it definitely shows in his new music. Twinkle Echo reveals a much more mature, self-assured, finely tuned Casiotone For The Painfully Alone, and proves to be a smooth progression onward from his past two albums. No big detours though, it's all simply more of his deeply heartfelt, lo-fi Casio-driven odes, but they've been captured on record much better this time. Wonderfully warm and intimate. The only thing that you might notice a difference in is Owen's vocals. His formerly hesitant near-whisper delivery has taken a slightly deeper, hoarser and more insistent tone, but never fear, it still fits very well amid the sweet-tart, woozy toy keyboard melodies and tick-tocking preprogrammed rhythms we know and love so well. Sure to please the growing circle of CFTPA devotees.
With this 1998 album, Cavity's Sabbath-fried sludge from the swamps of Florida really earned them their rightful place in the pantheon of heaviosity peopled by the likes of the Melvins, Eyehategod, Boris, and Electric Wizard. We liked 'em already, but this record stood above and beyond. Sheer HEAVY pummel, riff repetition chug fulla feedback and nasty vocals. There's quiet respites now and then, making the monster riffage even more monstrous. Definitely the kind of thing that just takes you over, relentless, submersive, and hypnotic. So, we can't believe we never listed this before! It was a HUGE fave among a bunch of us here when it came out on Man's Ruin a few years ago. It's been sadly out of print ever since that label folded, but now Hydrahead has stepped up and reissued a remixed version, complete with new artwork/design and what appear to be 2 new tracks (but, one's missing -- what happened to "Almost Blue"?). So apparently even if you have the Man's Ruin version, you've gotta buy Supercollider again. But this is one of those records you *would* buy again, it's that good! And if you don't have this already, and you like heaviness, GET IT. Cavity's best album (though their last one, On The Lam, was pretty great too). Thanks Hydra Head for giving us the chance to recommend this, again.
#1 cool thing about this band: This debut cd ep of theirs is shaped kinda like a Chinese throwing star! The music is equally jagged and dangerous, totally angular and (intentionally) aggravating, art punk spazz in that currently happenin' Erase Errata neo-retro '80s new wave/no wave 'danceable' punk style. Whiny vocals, nervous energy, fucked up groove. More cool things: they have cowbell. They're made up of ex-members of Arab On Radar and Six Finger Satellite. And Load Records deemed them too annoying to sign, so they went with Skin Graft where they definitely belong. Seriously, this IS pretty cool. 5 songs, 14 minutes, great packaging.
Along with having Parliment's Osmium back in stock, we also just got this related disc by back-in-the-day Parliament collaborator Ruth Copeland. Actually, this is the second time we've listed this, but it's a different edition than what we had before. And boy, we never realized until now how hot Ms. Copeland was! (Or that she was British, and white!) The photos on this new package clued us in.
Anyway, wow! Two great rare early 70's funk-soul-folk-gospel records on one disc. Ms. Copeland wrote 3 or four songs from and sang on the first Parliament album, Osmium, and George Clinton, Eddie Hazel and the gang backed her up for these two solo albums [Self Portrait & I Am What I Am], resulting in some revelatory acid-funk-rock jams new to these ears. Her voice is often soft and folky, so don't expect anything nearing Clinton's yowlin' growl. Eclectic stuff, there's a few sappy ballads, but even those are kinda fun and balanced by the hard rockin' Funkadelic-style gems. Even the Rolling Stones covers are pretty killer.
So, what does raw cult black metal and electro-techno dance music have in common? Vocalist Attila Cshihar for one. Yes, the coiled, blackened tongue of Hungary's Attila Cshihar has spat from the depths of many a cultish metal recording, and even weirder places as well. Fans know him best as the voice of Mayhem (post-Dead, pre-Maniac) on their classic De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas album. He was drafted into that Norwegian act on the basis of his experience in his band Tormentor. More recently, he's guested with the likes of Anaal Nathrakh and SUNNO))), whilst playing in his own, Rome-based band Aborym. This 'Beast Of' samples from Attila's work with all those bands and more, collecting alternate versions of previously released or as yet unreleased tracks from his archives, covering his career from 1988-2002. Some other bands you might know whose work with Attila are represented here include Emperor (a Mayhem cover) and Limbonic Art (a pretty cool "jam"). The bands we haven't heard before are some of the most interesting, like Korog and Professor Fate. Meanwhile Attila's own Plasma Pool will be a little too techno for some, but there's plenty more metal stuff on here to make up for that. The lesson you'll get from this is that Attila has a lot of charisma for a singer with such a limited "range", and is drawn to extremes -- or perhaps extremes are drawn to him. And we're talking extremes within a genre that already calls itself "extreme metal". He's got a cool voice, yes, but also is a personality, a brand if you will. The Attila Csihar stamp of approval (i.e. his presence on a record) means it's gonna be even more fucked than you already thought it was, whether it be cult old-school darkness or modern electronica-inflected stuff. Thus, this is a damn cool comp! And computer users will be happy to find a bonus 24-minute SUNNO))) mp3 on the here as well.
Fresh from their split cd and tour with Japanese pop-psych shamblers Maher Shalal Hash Baz, The Curtains release their first full-length cd. On it, this Bay Area trio of synthesizers, guitars and drums make a precarious heap of quirksome dissonance... and it's really no wonder since its members are Chris Cohen, Andrew Maxwell, and Greg Saunier. These gents also make sounds with such groups as Deerhoof, Natural Dreamers and Open City. On Flybys, melodies are introduced and seemingly take root, only to have the notes scatter like a disturbed anthill. A tangles of plucked guitar strings. Woozy synthesized heaves. A tumbling snare drum. The three are joined on a number of tracks by their former Curtains comrades Jaime Peterson (electronics) and Trevor Shimizu (synthesizer and guitar). As the album progresses the tracks seem to teasingly approach a slightly more traditional song structure, but you'll find with The Curtains you're seldom on completely stable ground. 22 tracks in all with the longest one clocking in at 3 minutes and the shortest at sixteen seconds (most are around one to two minutes)!
We'd been warned about this next-big-British band from our friends overseas. But mere warnings weren't enough to prepare us for what has quickly become our favorite new record / not-so-guilty pleasure. Everytime we play this in the store, people freak out and either ask "What the fuck??" or buy one on the spot. It's that good. And weird. More on that in a minute. This is easily the best RAWK record in forever. Huge catchy, crunchy riffs, big eighties drums, hooks galore, equal parts AC/DC, Motley Crue, Def Leppard, Pat Benatar, Billy Squier, Rick Springfield, Journey, REO Speedwagon, John Parr (remember him? 'Naughty Naughty'?) but nothing could've prepared us for the vocals. And once those vocals kick in it's all over. Think Bon Scott meets Tiny Tim, Freddie Mercury meets Vince Neil, the singer from Comus meets the singer from Nitro, or an opera singer thrust on stage and forced to front Def Leppard. It's that amazing. The vocals slip effortlessly into a falsetto that then leaps wildly from note to note, octave to octave, stretching single words into multi-syllabic whoops and wooooahhhs. So amazing. Yet somehow they fit the music perfectly. From big balls-out riffy cock rock, to melancholy FM radio ballads, to good ol rock and roll, all just slightly tweaked by the unorthodox vocals. Plus the amazing song titles and lyrics fit perfectly with the whole vibe and seemingly could be delivered in no other way than a howling ridiculous falsetto. "Black Shuck, that dog don't give a fuck", "Love on the rocks with no ice" and "Keep your hands off of my woman, moootheeeerfuuuuuuuuckeeeeeer" with motherfucker spanning 8 or 9 syllables and 2 or 3 octaves. So fucking brilliant! The vocals move this from the catagory of good retro rawk act that would be a guilty pleasure to the we-can't-believe-this-is-popular, it's totally fucked and practically avant-garde yet insanely catchy and commerical. Wow.
A couple lists back, we reviewed the most excellent "Dielectric Vol. 1" comp cd from our friend Drew(cifer)'s most excellent Dielectric label. Not one to rest on his laurels, Drew now presents a double cd dose of drone, from a pick-up band dubbed the Dielectric Drone All-Stars. It's all part of Drew's desire to mix and match interesting musicians, facilitating creative collaborative collisions in the studio where he works. This project was based on improvised performances (with the instruction to 'drone') by musicians who had perhaps never even met one another before, later processed and mixed by Drew. The results are pretty stellar for this sort of thing, good enough that Drew decided that not just one but two discs were in order. The All-Stars are comprised of Karen Stackpole (forty inch symphonic gong), Bill Norertker (double bass), Garth Klippert (accordion), Tony Cross (violin), Ben Hayes (didgeridoos), and Drew himself in the guise of Die Elektrischen (electric train). Yes, you read that right, electric train! Kinda makes up for any qualms you might have about the digeridoos... If you've already heard the comp tracks or 12" records on Dielectric by either Ms. Stackpole or Mr. Elektrischen, you'll have an idea of the sort of detailed, dark, dense drone they can conjure. Ok, without using the word 'drone' again, let's try to describe this. The lengthy (of course) tracks can be spacey and wide open, or claustrophobic and ominous. The shimmer of the gong and the sawing of the strings and the breathing of the digeridoo are all almost felt more than heard, I mean, you can pick out things from the mix but the various textures are merged into a slow moving mass, a glacial agglomeration that sometimes sounds more like weather phenomena than 'music'. Then again, there's passages on here very 'classical' in tone. There's a lot of depth and dynamics to these tracks, which succeed at being haunting and even beautiful. Recommended to anyone into the d-word. The dronologists here find this compares favorably with the likes of Organum!
Paula Frazer first made a splash in SF in the early '90s in Frightwig and with her group Tarnation. Frazer's voice has always been her strong point, pleasantly fuzzy around the edges but also with a clear bell-like ring within, a lot like Loretta Lynn's twang. Folksy, country. These are four track recordings made at home accompanied by just acoustic guitar. Old songs and new, all very sweet and heartbreaking. Comes with three videos of Frazer simply playing in her house.
You would think a move to emo label Vagrant would temper the metal in FATA's metalcore, and it actually has, quite a bit. But fear not, the serpentine dual guitar harmonies, the downtuned half time chugging, the blazing double kick drums and the ultra-complex stop/start dynamics are still present and accounted for, but the production is WAY less metal, and the emo/clean singing parts are even MORE emo and happen WAY MORE often, which, if you know anything about the emo tolerance around here, is not necessarily a bad thing. And let's face it, FATA were pretty wussy/emo to begin with, which is part of the reson we dug them so much. The ultimate hybrid of brutal death metal and sweet whine-y boy pop. Well, they still embody that hybrid, but the scales are definitely leaning dramatically in the UNheavy direction. In fact this is less a metalcore record with melodic bits, and more an actual pop record but with metal bits. Like the Get Up Kids mixed with Coalesce or Sunny Day Real Estate with Slayer choruses. There's even one track that features drum machine, acoustic guitar and full on female vocals. Wow. But all that said, this is a pretty cool, pretty weird emo-pop record, where the 'loud' parts are actually full on METAL. And if you're anything like me that sounds pretty damn good.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Cottage-industry label boss Glenn Donaldson has been splitting his time between the avant-folk productions of Jewelled Antler and the distinctly noiser productions for his other label Pink Skulls, which he describes as being more "punk" than Jewelled Antler. Alongside the militant iconography of Teenage Panzerkorps, the belligerent hallucinations of Leafyard, and the boombox black metal of Dead Raven Choir, Donaldson's definition of punk is not the commonly accepted one. New Zealand's rock primitivists The Futurians add another facet to Donaldson's atypical vision for Pink Skulls. Hailing from the equally obscure, noise rock band Armpit, The Futurians are not a band that resolves any of their art rock songs, prefering to leave a jagged guitar line or a simple drum kit plod or a monomaniacal vocal chant as the only semblance of structure to scrabble through the post-Chome synth squiggles, bleary clattering sound, and general lo-fi ugliness. Think Gate's "Metric" with megaphone vocals delivered by a Lydia Lunch / Mark E. Smith hybrid, toss in The Troggs and Destroy All Monsters for even greater anti-rock references, and you'll come pretty close to The Futurians. For all of the 'fucked up' art rock bands that sound too calculated and too ironic for their own good, The Futurians with their semi-conscious narcolepsy through noise propulsion are a rare gem uncovered from a pile of shit. More please.
Collection of Joe Gibbs productions from the late seventies and early eighties tracing the evolution of dancehall and Gibbs' role within it. Working with Sly & Robbie and their group (under Gibbs they were known as the Professionals) Gibbs produced a number of successful tracks and, more importantly, helped establish a modus operandi which would become de rigeur among producers through the eighties on to the present. Most importantly, inspired by Bunny Lee, was the concept of the recycled rhythm -- done to save money (no need to come up with and rehearse a new rhythm, hoping it would become a hit) -- the bulk of which initially came from classic Studio One tracks. Another was the requisite dub side for every single released. While Bunny used King Tubby, Gibbs went to Errol Thompson. Soul Jazz has culled together 19 tracks, both classic and rare, typifing the Gibbs production sound from his most successful period. Included are classics like Culture's "Two Sevens Clash", Junior Murvin's "Cool Out Son", oddballs like the Joe Gibbs & The Professionals sound effects laden dub "Massive Fire" and the troll like vocal track "Dreader Mafia" by Snuffy And Wally. Includes a 14 page booklet of liner notes and historic photos.
On record, Olympia, WA based The Gossip are an irrepressible, loosely slung, hell-raisin' blues rawk trio. Live, they crank it up a notch or three delivering the sweatiest swampy licks with an abundance of feist and fire. Live on record, it's all ultra raw, murky and dishevelled. The distorted, lo-fi recordings make you feel like you're right in the middle of the most rad basement party! They shimmy, stomp and shout their way through just over 27 minutes ending with a cover of Iggy Pop's "I Wanna Be Your Dog". Yay!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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In terms of 'keywords' this review should go something like this: Hala Strana, Jewelled Antler, Thuja, Steven R. Smith, Mirza, limited edition cd-rs, Eastern European folk music. Eh? Ok, now some of you are already clicking ADD TO CART or headin' down to our store. But if all that was more-or-less gobbledygook to you, let's elaborate. Hala Strana, which you may already have encountered as an entry in the Jewelled Antler Library series of 3" cdrs, is a project of LA-based multi-instrumentalist (and multi-instrument builder) Steven R. Smith, who is a member of Jewelled Antler flagship improv psych group Thuja and a solo artist in his own right. Hala Strana is his vehicle for instrumental droned-out Eastern European folk music appreciation/interpretation, and really represents some of his finest work to date. Multitracking turns Steven R. Smith into a one-man village orchestra, playing everything from violin to optigan, bul bul tarang to gourd guitar, harpsichord to clay flowerpots! Bouzouki, cello, harmonium, percussion, etc. These songs also incorporate snippets of field recording tapes and sampled recordings of traditional music. Plus some of his Thuja cohorts also show up to help out.
Many of the tracks are based on traditional folk tunes from Hungary, Albania, Macedonia, Croatia, and other Balkan backwaters. If you've heard any of the wonderful Muszikas records, you'll understand Steven R. Smith's inspirations. His arrangements and instrumention turn 'em into total folk-psych gems, reminding us of certain krautrock bands, International Harvester, the Dirty Three, Kemialliset Ystavat, Black Forest/Black Sea, all sorts of good things. Utter old world beauty meets underground drone aesthetics = some kind of Transylvanian trance music. Really nice. And we're looking forward to *another* new Hala Strana disc, a cd being released on Emperor Jones next week. That one's gonna be good too. But Fielding is hard to top. After all, there's TWO discs worth of music, and a handsome, handmade lil' booklet of art and text included. Unfortunately, there's only about 25 of these still available, so act fast!
Yay! This is Kid Koala doing what Kid Koala does best, taking recognizable genre musics and just tweaking them enough to add a woozy modern effect, a li'l bit of scartching here, some pretty glitching there. This is a song taken from his forthcoming album, and is a New Orleans style jazz number made even more poignant and sweet with his signature touches AND it comes with a fantastic video you can play on your computer. The video, made by Monkmus, features an animated funeral procession that turns into an unlikely street celebration with a surprise ending. The other track, which presumably won't be on the album, is called "Vacation Island" and features the Kid doing that magic again, this time to an old Martin-Denny-ish tropical exotica, but with beats. So cute and nice. Not many left either...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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"The Unperverted Pantomime?" is a hodge-podge of some of the earliest Killing Joke recordings from the late '70s and early '80s. At that time, the band walked a similar post-punk path as Gang of Four and Public Image Limited, with discordant guitars crashing against a mutant dub rhythm section. Those who heard their early masterpiece "Turn To Red" on the "Wild Dub: Dread Meets Punk Rocker" compilation should know what to expect from these cuts, which include a bunch of early singles, a few radio session pieces, and some live recordings. None of these tracks have appeared on CD before. Unfortunately, neither the sound quality nor the performances of the live cuts are terribly good. Oh well. "The Unperverted Pantomine?" paints early Killing Joke as a fantastic studio band, and a less than ideal stage act. Overall, their new self-titled full length is a much more prime example of the incredibly blistering, volatile music of which this band is capable.
What with the sad recent history of the former Yugoslovia -- conflicting ethnicities and religions, horrible atrocities, wars upon wars -- Laibach's perspectives on politics and culture appear as ghastly premonitions, which unfortunately have come true. Since the early '80s Laibach has located their Slovenia at the crossroads of the many forces (e.g. Nazi fascism, Communism, Western consumerism, fundamentalist religions, etc.) which all attempt to exact their wills upon the people of their nation, who in turn have had to adapt culturally, politically, or otherwise to such forces. In turn, Laibach and their larger organization NSK has embraced this behavior for adaptation and appropriation as a means of both celebrating the Slovenian spirit and criticizing the invasive forces. At times, the Laibach ethos spoke through grim industrial mantras (e.g. "Rekapitulacija" and "Nova Akropola"); yet others, Laibach's message came through the pastiche of their bizarrely comical cover album of the Beatles "Let It Be."
So strong are their convictions about their own concepts, politics, and aesthetics that Laibach runs dangerously close to self-parody. Of course, Laibach has plenty of rhetoric to defend their conceptual agenda; but it's hard for them to hide behind tautologies in defense of "Wat," a strange album that jack hammers 909 rhythms, Wagnerian samples, Chain Reactive synth pads, and growling vocals into a slick production not unlike a guitarless Rammstein, who in turn are the most egregious of Laibach copyists. That said, Laibach unwaveringly believes that "Wat" is a relevant pop album disguising their interrogative practices. The bombast of these ideals is what makes Laibach so effective, but at the same time Laibach can stumble over their own tongues.
If Drew Daniel got to indulge his big-booty-beach-party perversions on the Soft Pink Truth album, then Martin Schmidt, who is the other half of Matmos duo, should have the opportunity to elaborate his own musical virtues and vices. That said, it would be too easy to qualify "The Civil War" as the Martin record; but there are many more than a few similarities between this album and the previous outing "The West," Matmos' historically coded album which Matmos has publicly announced as being masterminded by Martin. Again, Matmos and their comrades in arms (J Lesser, Blevin Blechtum, Keith Fullerton Whitman, David Grubbs, Mark Lightcap, and others) wield some atypical instruments -- an emergency alarm system, blood, a rabbit pelt, conductive jelly, and an ultrasonic doppler flow detector (huh?); but what is most surprising about "The Civil War" is its dramatic break from the directions of contemporary electronica. Structurally, this album is a pastiche of jaunty Renaissance jigs, fife and drum marches, medieval madrigals for hurdy gurdy, and rustic folk. Yet, smeared across the surfaces of these archaic musics are digital pixels, microtonal glissandos, misplaced electronic beats, and intrusive glitches. This is an overtly clever take on appropriation, never allowing an exact mimesis of the older forms, rather Matmos position the old and the new in a context of dislocation. At their best, perhaps on "The Struggle Against Unreality Begins," Matmos reconstitutes the alchemy of Coil during their "Horse Rotovator" period, where the anarchronistic references collapse into a monstrous dirge with sly glances toward the carnivalesque.
Those Bjork fans who love her swansongs and wish to indulge in the genius of her technicians must be warned that "The Civil War" is a willfully difficult listen. But those adventurous listeners will certainly be delighted by the collision of state of the art electronics and the music of yesteryear.
Soul Jazz returns with a second collection of cuts from keyboard wizz Jackie Mittoo. Like the release on their Universal imprint "The Keyboard King At Studio One" this one is bound to be just as popular. Where as "The Keyboard King" focused on Jackie's rocksteady and sundry other cool instrumentals from the early seventies, "Last Train" is a collection of ska era works with his band The Soul Brothers. Formed immediately after the demise of The Skatalites, the Soul Brothers included several members of that legendary band. Along with Mittoo, saxophonist Roland Alphonso, bassist Lloyd Brevett, and trumpet man Johnny Moore all stuck together. The tracks here, like Mittoo's other albums, are primarily instrumentals. Recorded between 1965 and 1967, you can count on a good deal of uptempo numbers still imbued with the ska sound, though the arrangements are a great deal more keyboard-centric (understandably so!) than any ska album you've ever heard.
Beautiful! Truly, Neil Halstead and co. are shining models of quality and consistency. Album number four starts off on the right foot with the languid nine minute long "Bluebird Of Happiness", and carrying on from there delivers more of the same gorgeously hushed, delicate pop for which Mojave 3 are not nearly well enough known and loved (at least in Cup's opinion!). Each of the songs on Spoon And Rafter is a luminous, glistening treasure. If you're prone to song-triggered weeping sessions, be forewarned that this band has the crushingly bittersweet goods to gently pull those heartstrings 'til they break. That said, Mojave 3 can also pep things up to a perfect driving-along-the-beach tempo ("Billoddity"), slow things down to the most spartan, wistful balladry ("Hard To Miss You"), and then take a stroll beneath the willows ("Tinkers Blues"). Very recommended!
In Nanang Tatang, main members of Ida, Daniel Littleton and Elizabeth Mitchell take their dreamy, soothing sound into the electronic realm. Although Muki starts off with a drifting ambience of the most delicate twinkling chimes and whirring digital vapors, as things progress the acoustic and electronic elements entwine effortlessly with Ida's familiar hushed female and male vocals taking center stage. Twelve songs crafted from a palette of feathery guitar strums, soft repetitive piano lines, warming organ, viola and harmonium drones, and occasional subtle programmed beats make for an altogether intimate, wistful affair. Check out "Oldest News" with its Elvis-Costello-on-a-super-drowsy-downer vocals as well as the dreamily meandering "The Fullness Of Time". Simply lovely. Certainly for fans of Ida, but also those of Julie Doiron, Mum and Low.
Hard to know what to say about this new Outkast record. We all pretty much love Outkast, and their total disdain for what's hip or cool in hip hop circles. Weirdly dressed, wildly inventive musically, with videos that are tough to beat, they pretty much stood out like a big beautiful funky sore thumb. So while we weren't necessarily surprised by ther decision to release a double cd, basically 2 solo records, we were a bit surprised by the records themselves. 'The Love Below' is Andre 3000's joint and is basically a smooth R+B slow jam ala Prince or Billy Ocean or Luther Vandross, but with a healthy does of Ween. Yep, that's right, Ween. Ridiculously silly lyrics and goofy goofy love songs. Byram posited that this is what Ween SHOULD sound be doing. Ultra slick, incredibly smooth, well produced jamz....with lyrics like "I know you like to think your shit don't stank, but lean a little closer and see that roses really smell like boo-boo-boo, boo-boo-boo." So your call. Fun. Definitely funny. Soulful and funky, but really really dorky and goofy. Now Big Boi's disc sounds way more like the Outkast we know and love, in fact, it really does seem like an Outkast record. Big beats, weirdly inventive arrangements, crazy raps, and wickedly catchy choruses. Just consider 'The Love Below' a bonus disc of slow jams to do with what you will. Boo-boo-boo. Boo-boo-boo.
Maybe we shouldn't be so hard on the Acid Mothers collective for being so prolific. You and I go do our jobs everyday, and no one complains as long as we do a good job, and are productive and successful, right? So until AMT start peddling utter crap, maybe we should give them a break. It just so happens that their job is to explore the cosmos with spaced out synths and swirling rattlesnake guitars, and to spread wild, freaked out psychedlic love. And they continue to do it better than most of their contemporaries. It just gets frustrating from a fans point of view to try and keep up. So here we have the third or fourth AMT release this month (seriously), this time it's record number two from the Pardons, the guitar/synth duo of AMT frontline Cotton Casino and Higashi Hiroshi. And it's quite a gorgeous affair. Any traces of pychedelia dissipate into an expansive and spacious dreamscape of tinkling shimmering chimes, spacy dreamy ambience, gently finger picked guitars, reverbed crystalline tinkle, theremin like vocal trills, and soaring distant operatic vocals, like wisps of smoke floating lazily through the air. Beautifully serene and gorgeously otherworldly.
Got some of these in, thought we ought to get it up on our website. After all, in my (Windy's) opinion the best Parliament album is this, their first, released in 1970. Removing the "s" from their name heralded George Clinton's change from the Parliaments' doo-wop sound to a truly original mix of gospel / country / funk / rock / even classical. That they hooked up with a white woman from England, Ruth Copeland, who wrote several of their most devotional tracks is even more weird, but then you've got hear this album to believe just how weird, yet totally accessible and great, it is. Especially if you're only familiar with Parliament / Funkadelic's more shiny dancefloor-oriented later material, then this will be a full-on revelation to you, so be *sure* to give the soundclips a try. While some folks choose to take sides over liking either Funkadelic *or* Parliament, Clinton's bands existed simultaneously and there is so much crossover in personnel and style that they may as well be considered the same band. So I tend to divide their sounds into early and later, myself much preferring the early work of both Parliament and Funkadelic -- 1971's Maggot Brain is my fave Funkadelic masterpiece. Osmium comes with seven bonus tracks to round out the album's original 10. Essential essential essential!
P.S. This has been reissued several times, including as a Brit import some years back called Rhenium, so note that if you've got that one you already have all the stuff here except the bonus tracks.
An endless tangle of arpeggiated wheezing organ spurts. Bristling guitar chords grapple with the keyboard mayhem. A primal thump on a skeletal drumkit. Testy male vocals (and some female ones too on the third song "Wrenches And Spoons") sneer, slur and spit out the lyrics. Much creeping, brooding and scowling ensue as the Phantom Limbs' second full length Displacement launches its festering ghoulish assault. Not quite as hyperly confrontational and spastic as their Applied Ignorance debut album, but definitely still draws a great deal of lifeblood from the seminal synth-punk band the Screamers. At one moment you're trapped inside a haunted funhouse long after closing time, the next you're lost deep in the dankest catacombs, and the next you're scrambling to keep step in their three-legged funereal march. Whether intentional or not, this is just in time for Halloween.
The previous outing for Polmo Polpo (aka the Toronto based musician Sandro Perri) was a collection of very hard to find 12" singles, encapsulating a sound that merged hazy organic melodies from slide guitar and cello with the minimalist techno archetypal of Chain Reaction. It was, quite simply, a gorgeous sound. Here on "Like Hearts Swelling," the rich orchestration remains while the pronounced techno rhythms settle quietly into the background or are completely avoided on most tracks. That said, the undergirdings of techno are still Perri's basis for sound organization. Compact blocks of sound denoted by synthetic bass lines and tightly looped samples repeat themselves in hypnotic phrases, following the same patterns established by Gas on the majestic "Konigsforst" album and its more playful cousin "Pop." The strength of "Like Hearts Swelling" is found in the counterpoints between these subdued structures and the expressive melodies of cello, slide guitar, glockenspeil, accordion, and ambient passages culled from these instruments. The jubilant melodies from the album's second track "Requiem For A Fox" slide up and down the guitar frets, returning to a simple descending melodic fragment that is remarkably similar to the chorus from Blondie's "Dreaming." While this is probably an unintentional appropriation, the timbres and moods of this album reflect many of the sounds proferred by likeminded canucks Godspeed! You Black Emperor and their side projects. In other words, it's beautiful.
After the subtle excursion into heroin house on his "Anti" album for Hefty, T. Raumschmiere returns to his bread and butter with "Radio Blackout" an album of shuffletime techno. Alongside Electronicat and the "Schaffelfieber" compilations on Kompakt, Raumschmiere encapsulates the single minded stupidity of testosterone with a comical b-movie approach to techno that revists the flamboyance of Gary Glitter, The Sweet, and T. Rex. Throughout "Radio Blackout," there are a handful of megawatt stompers that crank out the corroded synth lines emulating fist-pumpin' anthemic guitar licks and shuffling post-glam-rock rhythms. As triumphant and huge as the cuts 'The Game Is Not Over' (which features Miss Kitten barking out the vocals to the 200 mile per hour rhythms) and 'Monstertruckdriver' are, it's easy to overlook how good the rest of the album is. Not content to issue a collection of singles or single worthy material, T. Raumschmiere really did attempt to locate his crunching numbers against low-slung grooves and crackled breakbeats to craft an album. These slower numbers don't appear as the ambient filler, but as the necessary breathing room required before rocketing through more of those tremendous carcrash rhythms. A great album!
I totally loved the first Raveonettes record. An ep of slightly sinister garage rock bittersweetness, buried under a thick blanket of Jesus And Mary Chain grit and fuzz and swathed in heaps of Galaxie 500 reverby shimmer. But part of what I liked was that it was creepy and mean and pretty surprising for a major label/MTV record to evoke such a misanthropic vibe. On first listen, Chain Gang Of Love, the Raveonettes first full length, sounded downright cheerful. Gone is the gloom and doom of their debut. To the point where I decided right then and there that I didn't like it. But on repeated listens, it really started to grow on me, as long as I approached it as a completely different beast. Once I could get over the lack of ominous minor key creepiness, it revealed itself as just a really great pop record. Like a weird mix of fifties rock and roll, Beach Boys surf rock, and lo fi grungy garage, but with stretched out Velvets song structures and that fuzzy haze that infuses everything with a grainy, washed out glow. Not sure I like it as much as the ep, but I sure have been listening to it a lot lately, which I suppose says it all.
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Fans of psychedelic sixties rock n' roll might be a little concerned about what they're getting when a peek at the album cover shows that two of the band members are men wearing clerical collars. Priests who rock? And these are no long-haired Jesus Freaks, either. The four men and one woman in this band look pretty straight. But, have no fear, their music is plenty far-out. This self-released 1968 album is the sole recorded legacy of The Search Party, a Christian folk-psych combo masterminded by the Reverend Nicholas Freund of Mount Saint Paul College in Waukesha, Wisconsin, but recorded at the San Francisco Theological Seminary's Montgomery Chapel (hence the title). They were definitely hip to the sixties West Coast vibe, with female vocals that remind us a bit of both Grace Slick and Linda Perhacs. Much of this is quite ethereal and haunting, full of organ drone-tones and dreamy, downer atmosphere. The album's centerpiece, the nine-minute "So Many Things Have Got Me Down" could be a lost acid-krautrock jam. The New Creation, the other lost 60s Christian rock reissue we reviewed here recently, have nothing on this! While The Search Party are at their best on the slower, moodier numbers, the more uptempo songs, though, go to some amazing extremes with over-the-top vocals and searing fuzz guitar (as in "You And I" which stands in stark contrast to the gentle, sombre sounds of much of the rest of the album). This Korean-import cd reissue comes packaged in one of those minature gatefold LP style sleeves, with lyrics and liner notes, which include the statement that "this album...is a demonstration of these five people's concern for you." Now how often do bands today say things like that? Bless' em.
For just being a lil' 3-song ep, So Say I offers quite a wide overview of what The Shins have been up to since their 2001 debut Oh Inverted World. The rollicking, retro, very Zumpano-esque title track is the first single off of their forthcoming album. Hopping in the back seat for this short ride along the beach are the considerably mellower, earthier "Mild Child" and an alternate live-in-the-basement version of the album's ninth song "Gone For Good".
Thirty or so years after first blasting off, the band known as Simply Saucer soars into view once again. Truly a twisted gem of the '70s pre-punk art-rock underground, the *Canadian* '70s pre-punk art-rock underground no less, this Hamilton, Ontario band was freaking people out back in 1974 with the material you'll find on this spiffy new cd reissue. The lucky and enlightened among you might already have the long out of print early-'90s cd version of this album, or even the original LP posthumously released in 1989, but this new edition of their half-studio, half-live "Cyborgs Revisited" adds 8 bonus tracks, including lo-fi demos, additional live stuff, and both sides of the Saucer's lone 1978 single. With or without these bonus tracks, it's a great fuckin' record, boldly owing allegiance to (early) Pink Floyd and the Velvet Underground and The Stooges. They've also got much in common with the likes of the Pink Fairies, Faust, NYC no-wave a la Von Lmo, and the contemporaneous crazy Ohio underground scene of the '70s (Rocket From The Tombs, Electric Eels). Yep, all these inspirations are immediately evident, not too far into side one of "Cyborgs Revisited": witness the the lengthy amazing repetitive Floydian effects instrumental "Mole Machine" as it segues into the acoustic intro of "Bullet Proof Nothing", Simply Saucer's idea of a love song, with lyrics like "Treat me like dirt/drive me insane" delivered in a sloppy Lou Reed drawl.
S.S. (unfortunate initials, hopefully nothing to do with their song "Nazi Apocalypse"!) were formed in '72 by a bunch of Canuck weirdos, notable among them lead guitarist/vocalist/songwriter Edgar Breau, and Sun Ra/Eno inspired electronics dude John LaPlante, aka "Ping Romany" -- Ping being a good stage name for the guy playing the primitive oscillators, tone generators, and theremin! They fought the good fight for a few years, cranking out freakish, space-fx laden proto-punk rock n' roll with sci-fi titles like "Dance The Mutation", eventually dabbling in Toronto's nascent "new wave" scene.
It's certainly no surprise that the Saucer never "made it" -- though that '78 single seems like a stab at poppier (or at least goofier) sound -- and, with no successful commercial career in the offing, they eventually disbanded. Dunno if they could ever be cited as an influence by anyone 'cause they were so obscure, but hypothetically anyway S.S. could be the warped template for today's garage artisans -- Comets On Fire, especially -- totally punk *and* psych, with skronked out guitar, snotty vox, oscillating noise waves and tumbling drums. Glad to have this back in print, and it's certainly a timely reissue considering how well this fits in with some of today's art-punk retro-electro trends!
MPEG Download: "Nazi Apocalypse" [/audio/simplynazi.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Nazi Apocalypse" [/audio/simplynazi.m3u]
The Slow Poisoners do what they do very very well! And that is, mainman Andrew Goldfarb and his merry band of minstrels craft a plethora of gleeful, slightly trippy retro 60s/70s-ish tunes, and they certainly seem to have a splendid time doing so. Their second full length is a characteristically playful affair filled with multi-layered vocal harmonies, gently tweaked lyrics and quirky harpsichord and organ embellishments. Make no bones about it (where did that saying come from anyway!), these Bay Area super-polished popsters have been deeply moved by the works of the Beatles and David Bowie. Song by song, the deep reverence is more than evident. As well, on a number of songs, there's an ample dose of Donovan-esque folky eccentricities too. Toothsome, intelligent and fun.
Slumber Party's third full length is indeed titled 3! The breezy follow-up to this Detroit, MI quartet's 2001 Psychedelicate album features more of their unadorned jangling electric guitars and casually sung vocals. Although most of their songs are straightforward barebones, lo-fi pop reminiscent of Velvet Underground (particularly on songs like the very "Waiting For My Man"-ish "No Sleep Tonight"), Lois and Marine Girls, they do weave into a porchswing-y, down-by-the-creek laidback earthiness on the harmonica'n'tambourine-laced seventh song "Black Heart Road". Nice.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Latest blast of analog synth madness from Takushi Yamazaki, othewise known as Masonna, the one man Japanoise wrecking crew, with a belt full of effects and a wall of white noise unparalleled. But don't expect any of that noise here. Space Machine is the vehicle that Yamazaki uses to indulge his fetish for rare seventies analog synths and all the spacy madness that they can conjure up. This is all swoosh and whir, bleep and swoop, like Acid Mothers Temple at their most unstructured, or better yet, like the music at the planetarium when you're soaring through galaxies, into the farthest reaches of the universe. Gorgeous double lp on orange vinyl in a nice gatefold sleeve. Two sides of solo studio recordings, two sides of live mayhem, four sides of far out, freaked out buzzing blooping bliss.
This is the debut recording from this Chicago trio of damaged hippie primitivists who unleash a miasmic flow of creepy, primal free-folk ragas woven from guitars, cellos, autoharp, melodica, harmonium, spike fiddle(!), mbira, piano, violin, voice and percussion. Childlike and playful, innocent and haunting, disturbing and dreamy, eliciting acid fried flashbacks to such pagan classics as Comus, Current 93, the Wicker Man and of course NNCK and the Sunburned Hand!
Why Kelley Stoltz isn't world famous yet is a total mystery, as this guy is clearly one of SF's most talented, creative musicians -- and here on his second solo effort he really shines. It's kind of amazing what home recordings can sound like in the hands of great musicmakers, but instead of the stark loneliness you might expect (a la Iron & Wine, maybe), this recording is full of layers and layers of grit and melody and mood and attitude. There's the pop vivacity of Ted Leo, the eccentricity of Syd Barrett, the offbeat blues-based weirdness of Beefheart, the rough 'n earnest buzz of Neutral Milk Hotel, the occasional '60s garage psyche vibe, barely-there electronic squiggles (not at all overpowering the overall organic rock feel), and the propulsive chugging guitar of the Velvets... Believe me, this is just great, a remarkably mature and well executed effort. The instrumentals and weirder bits are paced well between the proper songs, making the album a good listen straight thru. Bravo, Kelley.
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Out of the blue, this slab of heaviness is now available on vinyl! A real swank package with new artwork courtesy of the UK's Dirter. Here's our review of the original cd release from 2001:
The world's first, best, only, (and last?) EARTH tribute band oozes forth with their second album. Some might question if there was more to be accomplished in their emulation of the glacial "power ambient drone" metal practiced by Earth, but this album should quell any skeptics -- it's slower and lower and sets yet another standard for heaviness. Thus, probably an essential addition to the collections of AQ's extreme doom fanatic patrons! And this time the boys in Sunn go beyond their obvious Earth worship to acknowledge another influence: one of the four lengthy tracks found here is a cover (or, an interpretation, anyway) of a Melvins tune! Recommended.
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This is a super limited tour only release commemmorating the first Sunroof!/Vibracathedral Orchestra US jaunt. Not sure how many we can get so act fast. Sunroof starts things off, without their usual cloak of dreamy shimmer, instead wielding armour of crunching, super distorted stutter, before almost slipping into more familiarly dreamy Sunroof! territory, but just as quickly splintering into brittle shards and pulsing fragments, taking us back into serious Skullflower territory. Chopped and damaged grooves occasionally surface only to be dragged back down into the mire. Eventually the crunch gets smoothed down and spread out into a gossamer blanket of warble and whir, sun dappled but still slightly sinister. Vibracathedral Orchestra bear the shimmery mantle on this split, trawling the territory we're used to Sunroof! traipsing through, bells and chimes are smeared into a pleasant skree, lazy percussion is scattered haphazardly across sunbaked krautrock, and tribal rhythms and reverbed guitars are woven into warm expanses of barely tethered space rock, primal and pagan, pulsing and perfect.
Following up their fine retrospective Bastards & Rarities from a few months ago, please welcome Swell's brand new full length! This time around, mainman David Freel, the recently rejoined drummer/co-founder Sean Kirkpatrick and company seem to have shifted their rock stylings (usually quite akin to their indie rock brethren Pavement and Grandaddy) ever so slightly into an even more shuffling, expansive sound, not unlike Badly Drawn Boy. Mildly mopey, weathered vocals weave through the often soaring, catchy compositions that feature some of their most fully fleshed out instrumentations. Hard crunching electric guitars punctuate the proceedings while the vigorously strummed acoustic guitars drive the songs and add an overall breezy warmth. The sound of the guitar pick on the strings adds a nice percussive counter element to the drums. The album is laced with plenty of subtle textural details such as this - the sound of a train rushing by, glimpses of dialogue, puffs of static hiss. A complex and richly hued yet still very earthy album. As always, very recommended.
