Much like his American counterpart Kid 606, Montreal, Quebec's 1-Speed Bike makes IDM that's not afraid to nuzzle right up beside your tender ear, only to deliver a hefty dose of ripe and robust digital flatulence. Aidan Girt (also of the very differently minded Godspeed You Black Emperor and Exhaust) tailors his jagged tracks from heavy grit electronic sandpaper providing the maximum degree of aural abrasions. As his moniker implies this music pretty much travels at a singular pace... full throttle. Heaps of distorted digital spasms and splatters elbow their way through the thumpin' programmed thuds and crashes that only occasionally allow the rubble to settle into some sort of traceable rhythms. A side note: Girt's song titles are as smart-ass and in-your-face as his music (often more so). A sample: "If You Were A McDonalds, Your Lips Would Be An Orange Soda, But Your Dick Would Be A Shriveled-Up Fry". Aaaah, ma pomme frite malheureuse!
Quickly following up their fine The Curse Of The Longest Day ep with this excellent new full-length, Portland, Oregon's 31 Knots are satisfying all our abundant cravings for pop-smart, sonically rich indie rock gone prog. Prog as in Yes, to whom these guys have often been compared. And that's a good thing (if you aren't sure that's the case, you really should check out Fragile or Close To The Edge, to mention just two of the great Yes albums of the early '70s). As with such ye olde prog, the 31 Knots guys are top knotch instrumentalists... and no slouches at singing and writing songs either. Their Yessisms are more like hints of Yes (both their complexity and melodicism) informing and subverting songs that a less ambitious band might have crafted into more typical examples of the current "new wave" of white belted indie dance rock. And along with the pull of prog, this material is also shaped by the push of (arty) punk rock aggression as well. Fugazi, Yes, and I dunno, Elvis Costello might make strange bedfellows but 31 Knots make it seem like such a pajama party would be a good idea. Talk Like Blood's ten tracks bombastically blend heartfelt vocals, rubbery basslines, precise drumming, classical piano, electronic glitchscapes and lots more besides, always making moody and powerful and undeniably poppy music.
4G. The Four Gentleman Of The Guitar. Or maybe just Four Gentlemen. Or perhaps simply Four guitars. Or better yet, howabout just Four Guys. But however whatever you decide to make the 4 and the G stand for, just who are these four G's? All names that should be quite familiar to faithful readers of the AQ list: Keith Rowe (from AMM), Oren Ambarchi, Christian Fennesz and Toshimaru Nakamura. Hmmm, one of these fellas doesn't seem to fit. Maybe the one who performs with a no-input mixing board perhaps? Well, the 4G actually refers to these four performers who all started out as traditional guitarists before either taking their instrument in new directions or perhaps abandoning it completely, but applying many of the techniques and theories of the guitar to their new direction / instrument. So what we have here is a very unguitar guitar record. Made with guitars of course, but also plenty of electronics and laptops. A guitar-based record sans strums or licks or riffs or any recognizable guitar sounds at all. Instead Cloud is exactly what you would imagine a mix of these four artists would sound like. Fennesz's warm fuzzy clouds of disembodied guitar chords, reduced to drifing particles glinting in a late afternoon sun, Ambarchi's delicate melodicism smeared into gauzy drones, Nakamura supplys the high ends skree and the barely audible dog whistle drones, and Rowe gives us occasional scrapes and feedback squeals. All four of these distinct sounds manage blend perfectly into lengthy delicate dronescapes, with occasional sonic flares, but for the most part, just gorgeous, haunting drifting expanses of dark rumbles, warm static, and lots of floating abstract steel string effluvia. 4G performed four shows together, three of which are contained here, all quite long (20 minutes, 30 minutes, 60 minutes) and all incredibly dense and deep, requiring close and repeated listening.
"The Gold Torques Of Ulaid", "Immortal Sorcery", "The Great Battle Moving From Ideal To Actual"? Are these chapters from a sanity-blasting tome of arcane magicks? Or lectures on mythic history or philosophy? Well, perhaps. But they're also song titles from this decade-spanning double cd collection of Absu tracks. Absu being one of our all time favorite black metal bands... if that's even an accurate description for them, 'cause there's a depth to what they do that seems like so much more than playing corpse-painted dress-up like so many black metal bands get away with. Absu, on the other hand, have definitely done their research. This Texan trio combines the evil old school speed/thrash attack of Slayer with Norwegian-style black metal mystery, adding a immense dose of magickal and mythical erudition and then taking things to a whole 'nother, never-breaking-character, Manowar-esque, Olde English speaking, are they serious or not?? level... They're a whole mindboggling package, a display of "total attention to detail" showmanship (or is it belief?) that utterly wows us, along with their raging musickal assault.
It should be noted that this new double cd is not a "best of". If it was, we'd say that even if you've never heard Absu before, you should check it out, 'cause they're one of the best "extreme" metal bands out there (and we mean "out there") and a "best of" would, therefore, be exceedingly good. Actually we'll say that anyway. But this is really a release for folks who are already fans of the band, 'cause it's a collection of rare tracks taken from various compilations and 7" eps. It also includes some live and otherwise previously unreleased material. So even if you have every Absu album, you don't have some of this. And you need it.
Disc one contains all the tracks from three hard-to-find (we don't have 'em!) 7" vinyl records -- Temples Of Offal, And Shineth Unto The Cold Cometh, and Hallstattian Swords -- plus their song from the the Gummo movie soundtrack, and more. It's all great stuff, from the solo soundtracky synth-scapes of the Hallstattian Swords tracks to the killer Mercyful Fateness of the alternate take of "Stone Of Destiny" from their most recent album, Tara.
Disc two is devoted to covers, live, and unreleased material. You get to hear Absuized versions of tracks by Mayhem (and krautrock's Conrad Schnitzler, since Absu's cover of "Deathcrush" includes the Schnitzler intro that Mayhem sampled on the original!), Possessed, Iron Maiden, and Destruction, most of which originally appeared on tribute comps to those respective artists. There's also four live cuts (worth it for the song intros alone!) and a couple unreleased rehearsal tracks. Again, all stuff any Absu fan can't live without. Just try, you'll die (someday, anyway). And you won't die as happy as you would if you'd had this.
Super limited (500 copies worldwide, we got about 20) double live album recorded in London in 2004 from the Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso U.F.O. packaged in a plain white sleeve with a photocopied insert like the classic old Stones and Zeppelin bootleg lps and pressed on gorgeous opaque white / red / black / brown swirled vinyl. This is supposedly the final release for the Melting Paraiso U.F.O. incarnation of AMT, and what a way to go, four sides of deliriously spacey and fully freaked out psychedelic Ur-rock, from kaleidoscopic bursts of druggy space rock, to long stretches of almost meditative otherworldy drone, haunting chants, bizarre soaring operatic trills, pulsing relentless dirges, and wild free epic OUT THERE musical explorations, all drenched in swirling distorted guitars and clouds of hazy psych rock splatter. Very lo-fi recording, it all sounds like maybe it was recorded with one mic, set right in the middle of the room, but it just makes the whole thing sound that much more immediate and chaotic and furious and alive. Again, VERY LIMITED, when these are gone they are gone for good.
Lest they forever be genre-saddled with the electro-clash albatross, Adult. have wisely broadened their scope. And the path they've chosen is much more outwardly aggressive and punky. Truckloads of abrasive attitude. This is most evident in the vocal department which has claimed even more prominence in the band's sound. Formerly ice-cold monotone vocalist Nicola Kuperus further expands her range, swooping from a high pitched shriek to a mid-pinched sneer and way down to a deep throaty snarl. Brings to mind early-'80s Berliners Malaria! or more recently SF/Berliners The Vanishing. Likewise, Adam Miller's dirtied up his former ultra-sterile, scalpel-sharp, old school Detroit electro palette. Nevertheless, his steely mechanized beats are what link the tracks on Gimmie Trouble to those of the Adult. of old -- cutting through the newly added chunks o' industrial guitar which come courtesy of new member Samuel Consiglio. Their new(ish) direction and expansion aim them right for the spot recently vacated by the abovementioned, recently disbanded, art-punk/goth-dustrial duo-turned-trio The Vanishing.
In 2003, Locust released the mighty fine Wooden Guitar compilation, featuring a tracks by some of the most interesting of the current crop of Fahey-inspired practicioners of folk-improv acoustic guitar: Jack Rose, Steffen Basho-Junghans, Tetuzi Akiyama, and Richard Bishop. They've since followed up that release with solo discs by Bishop and, now, Akiyama.
Akiyama, who hails from Tokyo, was responsible for the longest and perhaps most avant-garde track on the original compilation, as his guitar playing incorporates the silence and abstraction of the "onkyo" electronic improv scene happening in his hometown. Yet the dusty, folky old timeyness key to the "Wooden Guitar" concept is much in evidence as well. So, listen to Pre-Existence and let Akiyama slowly wrap his sprongy steel guitar strings 'round your head, as he plucks and strums what almost sounds like a blues for the guitar itself. There's a lot of knock knock percussive playing and lonesome sustained tones. It's maybe what John Fahey would sound like if totally slow-mo stoned on cough syrup. Of course that sounds good to us. Can't wait for more in this series!
Hey, have the ever-evolving Animal Collective gone all rock'n'roll or what?! The first song on their new album damn near jumps into "Ballroom Blitz" territory. Okay, maybe not quite, but get a load of that feisty drumbeat! Hmmm, art-folk goes glam? Actually the first few songs also brought to mind the rollicking off-kilter pop sounds of Canadian combos Arcade Fire or Hidden Cameras and perhaps a bit of the psych-trippiness of Flaming Lips too. This indeed seems like their most accessible, rousingly pop excursion to date. Later in the album, things settle down briefly into more familiar ephemeral swirls on the song "Bees", but the band soon returns to downright rousing choruses a la Polyphonic Spree taking the good feelings straight through to the closing number "Turn Into Something". If you're already an Animal Collective fan, you won't wanna miss this! If you dig any/all of the bands mentioned above, you just might dig Feels too. We sure do!
As Mercenarias were one of the highlights of the Soul Jazz compilation The Sexual Life Of The Savages, which alongside the superior Nao Wave compilation introduced us to the Brazilian post-punk scene of the '80s. Like plenty of their contemporaries around the globe, this all-women quartet wore their influences on their sleeves, especially early Gang of Four, Nina Hagen, The Dead Kennedies, and Liliput. Not surprisingly, As Mercenarias dabble throughout the broad spectrum of what punk could mean, one track exploding as a taut pogo punk anthem then the next might be a sinewy art-rock tune sounding like a less dubby Slits track with a hell of a lot more fury behind the spidery guitar work and serpentine basslines. Where Soul Jazz sort of dropped the ball on The Sexual Life Of The Savages comp was choosing to include some of late '80s tracks drenched in studio production slickness, but they the mark in uncovering the spittle and contempt of As Mercenarias. Far from being novelty album, O Comeco Do Fim Do Mundo is actually a pretty amazing document from one of the nearly forgotten chapters of punk.
Ok, it's that time again. We've got two new ones here from AQ fave Koji Asano, the eclectic and very prolific Japanese experimental composer. These are numbers 38 and 39 in his steadily growing cd catalog!!
The thirty eighth, Final Insurance, isn't actually a brand new recording, it is (as the full title suggests) a collection of previously unreleased tracks from the period directly prior the release of Asano's first actual album, Solstice, in 1995. Wow, that was a while ago now, but I remember when we first got that disc -- who would have guessed that ten years later we'd have reviewed dozens more cds by him? There's twelve tracks here, varied in approach from squeaky, sci-fi electronic noise (a la Ryoji Ikeda) to gentle field recordings (kinda like something Toshiya Tsunoda might do). There's improvs on guitar and piano as well... everything here is interesting, some of it harsh, some of it beautiful. He carefully selected these tracks from a vast amount of material recorded in this youthful period of sonic activity and discovery, and it's all good stuff that deserves to be heard!
Ok, it's that time again. We've got two new ones here from AQ fave Koji Asano, the eclectic and very prolific Japanese experimental composer. These are numbers 38 and 39 in his steadily growing cd catalog!!
Number 39 is his very latest recording, Spring Estuary. The vague information we have seems to indicate that Asano used water as a sound source for this disc. But it sure doesn't sound like him splashing about in the bath! It's really shimmery and sort of churchy -- we would have guessed that he was manipulating recordings of pipe organ and/or bells, though the third track sounds like more like wheezing horns, all distorted and billowy. There's a total of four tracks here, the final one taking up the majority of the disc at almost 34 minutes in length. Imagine that the children's carousel in the park is somehow also one of Philip Jeck's turntables -- a giant Jeck turntable/carousel, turning and turning, its pretty music blurred and warped and utterly overwhelming and enveloping all around it. Very nice!
Here's the third solo Derek Bailey album released by big Bailey fan John Zorn's Tzadik label, and as the title sadly suggests, this disc is in part a document of the legendary (and now rather elderly) British free improv guitarist's bout with the painful condition that's the bane of office workers everywhere. Bailey didn't get it from too much mousing and keyboarding of course, it's the fretboard that did it to him. And that's no laughing matter, a guitarist suffering from carpal tunnel syndrome -- yet somehow you can imagine that if any guitarist could persevere through a crippling hand/wrist ailment, Bailey could. In fact, due to his usually rather abstract and atonal sound, some might (unfairly) say that we'd never notice... Certainly, despite the carpal tunnel, these tracks are full of all the stark, scrabbling, skeletal beauty that Bailey fans appreciate in his work. Ringing, scraping sounds with occasional alarming jumps in volume that threaten to feed back. Should we imagine gentle cries of pain?
The first track, "Explanation & Thanks", features Bailey's voice as well as his precariously plucked guitar. He's not singing, but rather speaking, in a very personal tone as if to some friends (who may have been present?). It's kinda nice, really, the feeling of his warm and halting talking perhaps influencing how you'll hear his guitar playing on this and subsequent tracks, full of human personality rather than being the alienating skronk for which some might mistake it.
Ultra limited, LP only, space-psych match up between Philadelphia's masters of druggy space rock and Detroit's psych sludge outfit Buck Paco. Bardo Pond are on fire here, heavy and huge and super intense, a blurry, dense, buzzy, drugged out, psych-space freakout. Super distorted and dizzyingly shambolic and so utterly divine. Spiky tendrils of squirming feedback, droning buzz guitar, simple motorik drumming, all slithering and convulsing, before about halfway through everything slows down to lurching acid drenched krautrockiness, pounding and pulsing, beneath tangled squalls of freak-psych guitars. Definitely one of the 'Pond's wildest and heaviest recordings.
We had never heard of Buck Paco before, but they manage to kick up quite a shitstorm. A murky and drone-y and relentless dirge, with an ultra distorted, repetitive rhythm beaneath churning rumbles and a creepy minor key guitar figure looped and repeated endlessly. The second half of Buck Paco's side (just noticed both bands start with BP, and they sound a bit similar, could Buck Paco actually BE Bardo Pond? Hmmm....) does away with the drums completely, or at the very least buries them way way back in the mix, adds a bit of sitar, and turns their drone-y sludge into some sort of free-guitar-psych / Appalachian folk hybrid, with strange distorted melodies over simple strums and mournful riffing, all smothered in layers of amp buzz, tape hiss and instrument hum. Pressed on 140 gram virgin vinyl, packaged in beautiful hand screened covers and limited to 600 copies!
Latest issue of what is quickly becoming one of our favorite magazines (for all things political, musical and all the other stuff we like to read about). This time around: the eerie similarities between the '20's horror masterpiece Nosferatu and the Bush administration, Mamet examines three unlikely geneologies of bastard idioms, some popular 'meat writing', the story of John T. Smith's legendary biography and his quest for vengeance, interviews with Bob Mould, David Sedaris, Peter Fitzpatrick, Lorrie Moore, Nick Hornby reads Voltaire, how to build a golem and so much more!
Ah, throughout Beta Band's short career we've gone through phases of such love (The Three EPs) and sorta hate (their last album Heroes To Zeroes), but all in all we do still have a soft spot for these Scots and were bummed to hear of their split. The first disc is the actual 'best of' while the second disc features a recording of one of the band's final shows at Shepherds Bush Empire last year. Of course fans will have their own ideas of what were the band's best songs, so let's not get into any quibbling here, okay? Where this compilation succeeds very succinctly is in showing the band's broad and deft spectrum of genre-hopping -- from their early Beck-ish patchworked shufflin' shambles ("Dry The Rain") to their Beatles-meets-Pink Floyd period (their great "It's Not Too Beautiful" which also kicks off the live disc) to their slightly ethno-accessoried and funkified leanings to their later, slicker psych-tinged pop/rock that aligned them more with bands such as Super Furry Animals. So if you're not familiar with the Beta Band this is a pretty good overview for you to decide which, if not all, of their many faces please your ears. Actually although when taken individually each of BB's albums seems to have a very different personality and sound from one another, these songs taken from each of their cds and presented in chronological order come across as surprisingly cohesive. The comp begins with four from the above mentioned AQ fave The Three EPs, followed by two from their puzzlingly self-scorned, self-titled sophomore album, next is "To You Alone" a song that was included on 2001's Rarewerks (Astralwerks seventh anniversary compilation), then four from Hot Shots II and a closing five from their last album Heroes To Zeroes. As for the second disc, the live recordings sound terrific -- capturing the energy rush from the band and their audience. The band was in fine form this eve. A suitably vibrant farewell.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY. While we're waiting to get restocked on the cd version of this killer split (in the next week or two!), which flew out of here after our last list, we managed to get 30 copies of the picture disc vinyl version. Unfortunately that's all we're ever gonna get, so as always, act fast!
Hard to know what to say about Leviathan that we haven't said already. Quite possibly the most innovative outfit in black metal today. The man behind Leviathan, Wrest, has taken traditional black metal and turned it into something new and strange and completely out there, while somehow remaining totally grim and true to the black metal tradition. Here, he is teamed up with Russian black metal group Blackdeath, who specialize in extremely primitive buzzy and blurry black metal a la Burzum, Darkthrone and the like. The most remarkable thing about Blackdeath besides their simple droning fuzzed out riffs, and frosty atmosphere, is the vocals, a weird raspy warble, that slips from black metal shriek to weirdly anguished falsetto, reminding us a lot of SF BM legends Weakling. And the guitars are so thick and buzzy and blown out that you almost can't hear the drums, which lends the whole thing a super hypnotic drone quality that we LOVE. As if playing off of Blackdeath's primitive grimness, Leviathan hits right back with four tracks of his own full on grim buzz, but as with everything he does, no matter how true and grim the sound is, no matter how blasting the drums or buzzing the guitars are, there is always lots of stuff going on beneath the surface, or in the arrangements, not always easy to explain, just this intangible something that makes Leviathan's sound so unique and so much creepier and intense. Minor key melodies, weird stretches of industrial ambience, strangely affected vocals, haunting drones and bizarre soundscapes, all woven into the already twisted framework of Leviathan's uniquely hellish black metal.
WE WERE ONLY ABLE TO GET 25 COPIES. ONCE THEY ARE GONE, THEY ARE GONE FOR GOOD!!!
Outside of being Japanese, and VERY VERY loud, one wouldn't necessarily think Boris and Merzbow had a whole lot to offer each other sonically. But as we know, that is most certainly not the case. Their first outing together was the legendary Megatone record, a stretched out doom drenched drone of mammoth proportions, sure there were guitars and basses and plenty of laptop fuckery and analog squiggle, but it was all smeared into a totally mesmerizing , incredibly dense drone record. Match up number two, the recent LP only 04092001, threw some people for a loop, especially folks all ready for the drone. Instead they were given what was essentially a Merzbow produced Boris ROCK AND ROLL set. Like their Heavy Rocks record, an energetic blast of overdriven, Stooges-esque sludge stomp RAWK, but for 04092001 mixed on a Fisher-Price mixing board, broadcast through a transistor radio stuck between stations. Cool for sure, but much more noisy and messy. So here we are with the awesomely titled Sun Baked Snow Cave, which finds Merzbow and Boris together again, and returning to a sound much like Megatone, but with a definite nod to Flood as well (our favorite Boris record btw). In fact we might go out on a limb and claim that this is the best (non-rock) Boris record since Flood!
Gorgeous ghostly guitars, simply strummed or delicately picked, each note and chord set adrift in a vast expanse of barely there sound, spare, drifting and languid. After about ten or twelve minutes the guitars are suddenly darkened by a slow building cloud of distant rumble and reverberant thunder, with lightning flashes of electronic grit, hiss and flicker. Then, about twenty minutes in, the bottom drops out (or IN) and the sky falls when a MASSIVE slab of super distorted downtuned guitar is laid out, a constant buzzing roar, over which Merzbow drapes all manner of glitch and stutter and crunch and crackle. A dizzyingly dense swirl of free noise drone, thick and slowly shifting, noisy, but in a muted controlled way. Eventually the storm passes, and the last twenty minutes of the record is one extended stretch of dreamy drift, surrounded by Merzbow at his most subtle, little smears of sonic haze, sort of like the audio equivalent of the afterimages you see when you stare at the sun. A haunting coda that gradually dissipates and fades to grey, and then black. Packaged in an exquisite Japanese style mini gatefold, with lovely black, white and blue metallic artwork by Stephen O'Malley.
Now that Byram, our resident reggae / dub expert has moved on (he's in Poland now, teaching English) we are left to fend for ourselves and review all the reggae and dub he used to handle so deftly. We all love this stuff, but unlike Byram, we don't have nearly the encyclopedic knowledge of studios and Jamaican history, so we go pretty much on the sound and the songs, and what little background information we can dig up. So here we have yet another amazing archival release from relatively new label Hot Pot. These recordings are all from the early seventies, and while Brown often worked with lesser knowns, often helping them get the exposure they so richly deserved, Rhythm Master Volume Two features plenty of reggae legends like Tommy McCook, Prince Jazzbo and Big Youth. Brown ran multiple labels in Kingston before moving to NY in the eighties. All of his releases were clouded in mystery, due in no small part to random addresses, confusing acronyms, and liner notes that often bore no relation to that actual release. Another element that added to Brown's mystique. The music here is thick and lush, with warm warbly hammond organ, dreamy wheezy melodica melodies, throbbing bobbing loping rhythms, cool, distorted blues guitar, all wrapped in that gorgeous Glen Brown production, and occasionally topped off by amazing vocals, from traditional reggae almost-toasting to haunting soul style crooning. So nice.
Are Calla bringin' the ol' slouchy '90s college cardigan back into fashion? From the sounds of their latest full length Collisions, it sure seems so! Here come those familiar moody-mopey indie rock driven by slack'n'slouchy heavily effected guitars and emotive male vocals. Will you welcome them? Some songs follow such a predictable path that we were singing the guitar lines before we'd even heard 'em. A lot like early Radiohead, but also falling somewhere between the current sounds of Coldplay and Interpol in terms of music laden with achingly heartfelt sentiments and lush rock grandeur -- particularly on songs such as the album's third track "This Better Go As Planned". Which means that after a few years of indie rock kids hitting the dancefloor, we might be seeing a bunch of them reassuming that ol' stationary head-nodding stance when Calla come through town.
Why are we making a soundtrack for a movie from 1983 starring Kurt Russell (who hams it up in a piratical eye-patch) our Record Of The Week, this week? Well, we've got a few reasons... first off, the music is awesome and we love it (good reason right there). Secondly, this cd has been out of print and hard to find for several years now, going for silly sums on eBay, sought after by soundtrack collectors and electronic music fans. When we heard that Silva Screen was finally going to reissue it, we started thinking Record Of The Week thoughts immediately... and now, after some further delay, here it is at last!
While director John Carpenter is known for making quite a few classic films in the B-grade horror and sci-fi thriller genres (Halloween, The Thing, Assault On Precinct 13, The Fog, They Live etc.), it's perhaps not as well known that he personally composed the soundtrack music to many of his movies, starting with his first flick Dark Star back in 1974. Working out of a home studio with what was technically advanced equipment at the time (machines which would now be considered awesomely vintage), he composed electronic music soundtracks that some might say are even better than the movies themselves. Certainly they're worthy to stand on their own, anyway (just like Goblin's soundtracks for Argento's films). Carpenter's compositions have influenced other musicians, and not just soundtrack writers. Anyone who loved the Zombi album we recommended last year needs to have some John Carpenter in their collection for sure!
And we recommend Escape From New York as being one of his best. Somehow it combines a lot of stuff that we figure a lot of you like: suspenseful Goblinesque darkness, droning old school synths, kitchy Disco Not Disco style NYC '80s groove... Loaded with claustrophobic nervous tension, these tracks make use of taut, minimalistic, hypnotically repetitive rhythms that make us imagine an Electro version of AQ faves Circle. The atmosphere is further enhanced by the inclusion of sound fx from the film and snippets of dialogue -- the tough guy banter of Kurt Russell's wiseass anti-hero "Snake" Plissken is priceless, especially due to Russell's constipated Clint Eastwood delivery.
Set in a dystopian, wartorn then-future of 1997, Escape From New York sends "Snake" into the maximum security prison that the island of Manhattan has become to rescue (at pain of death) the President of the United States, who is being held captive there by the city's "inmates" after Air Force One made a particularily poor choice of a place to crash-land! The film also stars the likes of Lee Van Cleef, Ernest Borgnine, Harry Dean Stanton, Adrienne Barbeau, Donald Pleasence, and Isaac Hayes, all of 'em capable of chewing the scenery right along with Russell. You definitely don't need to have seen Escape From New York to get a kick out of this soundtrack, but the movie is an enjoyable '80s action thriller worthy of its cult status and listening to this will probably get you to go rent it.
Carpenter composed and performed the score in association with sound designer Alan Howarth, whose home studio (stocked with an ARP Quadra, an ARP Avatar with 16 step sequencer, a Prophet 5 programmable analog synthesizer, and a Linn LM-1 drum machine) was used for the recording. Howarth was further responsible for remixing and remastering the album for the release of this "expanded edition" which first appeared in 2000. It includes several cues originally meant for scenes deleted from the theatrical release of the film, and runs to over 57 minutes in length. 'Bout time it was back in circulation!
Go ahead slip this new Clientele album right in next to your Big Star and Go-Betweens albums. Strange Geometry fits like a glove, don't it? These Londoners continue merrily along on their gentle retro pop path, and that's a very good thing for them to do. Check out the mistily wistful "My Own Face Inside The Trees". Geez, band leader Alasdair Maclean has such a charming voice and great taste in art to boot... the cover features one of surrealist Paul Delvaux's train paintings from 1963! Darkly beautiful just like the music.
There's been quite a few Shirley Collins reissues lately, and they're all pretty great if you've got a soft spot for this British singer's sweet voice and the trad folk she celebrates. We should get 'em all reviewed one of these days, but we thought that we absolutely had to provide a little write-up for this one, originally released on LP in 1964. Amidst the many wonderful Collins discs, this one is just a little bit different and special because it finds her collaborating with pioneering jazz/folk guitarist Davy Graham. It was some record company's notion of getting folk vet Collins and up-and-coming guitarist Graham (a fellow turned on to both Thelonious Monk and Indian raga) to make a "folk-swinging" record, but one that worked out well, even if they were somewhat of an odd couple -- Collins a responsible young mother with two children, the younger Graham a decidely bohemian character with vices that extended beyond merely smoking pot. But despite their differing lifestyles, Collins and Graham's Folk Roots, New Routes is quite a wonderful one-off work, blending old fashioned folk and modern jazz and strains of non-Western music into arrangements both innovative and lovely.
When we saw the new solo album come in from Calexico's co-captain John Convertino, we were hopin' that it would either showcase his awesome drumming and/or some of his evocative minimal piano compositions such as "The Book And The Canal" that surfaced briefly on his band's last album Feast Of Wire. Well, guess what? This album is filled with the latter. Convertino performed and recorded the twelve somber and contemplative instrumentals at his home in Tucson, AZ. On Ragland, he's stepped out from behind his drumkit and made himself right at home at the piano (and occasionally on the vibes and back on the drums too) crafting numbers that are at times delicate and at others insistent. Nonetheless, this is far from spotlight grabbing. While in Calexico the focus is usually drawn to the band's other co-captain lead singer and guitarist Joey Burns, Convertino is too often considered simply 'the drummer', but that's a terrible understatement. Convertino is both a multi-faceted artist and a master of restraint. If this cd is any indication we can expect that he's got a few more surprises up his sleeve.
MF Doom has to be one of the most important rappers around. As cliched as it sounds, he is one of the only hip hop artists taking shit to a whole 'nother level. Everyone's all gaga for Kanye West, and sure, he's doing his part to subvert MTV and commercial radio, but ultimately he's making mainstream pop music, no matter how creative it is. But Doom is the true subversive, his confusing raspy slur, spitting brilliantly garbled non sequiturs, his pacing and cadence so damaged and off kilter, but at the same time so funky and perfectly catchy. And his choice of musical partners is impeccable. Madvilllainy was absolutely brilliant with Doom teaming up with Madlib, for a drowsy, laid back jazzadelic joint, equal parts smooth jazz, funky R+B, spy movie soundtracks and far out alien funk. Every track a dense assemblage of killer loops, horns and flutes, porno wah guitar, and Doom's killer laconic flow. So we were all a bit excited when we found out Doom would be teaming up with the DJ of the moment, Dangermouse, who most folks have only heard on the DM and Jemini record from a few years back, but who is way more (in)famous for his unofficial and so far unreleased Grey Album, a wicked mash up of the Beatles White Album and Jay-Z's Black Album. The perfect choice to go up against Doom.
But even more perfect is that this disc also teams Doom up with various characters from The Cartoon Network's late night adult oriented Adult Swim cartoons, considering Doom is sort of a cartoon character himself. Present and accounted for: Master Shake and Meatwad from the Aqua Teen Hunger Force, also their surly New Jersey neighbor Karl, Space Ghost, Thundercleese, Brak and Zorak, Harvey Birdman Attorney At Law, the cast of Sealab 2021 and our favorites, Ignignokt and Err, the Mooninites. For those unfamiliar with all those characters, it may just sound like a bunch of crazy characters adding flavor to Doom's bizarre universe, but for fans, it's pretty exciting to hear Meatwad rap in his weird high pitched gurgly voice, or hear Brak do a little rhyming, or Master Shake's continual indignant phone calls to Doom trying top get on this record. This could have all gone seriously south and ended up as nothing but a commercial for the Cartoon Network, but it of course transcends its parts and becomes one of the coolest craziest rap records of the last couple years. The music is dense and catchy as fuck, weird loops, and stuttering rhythms are woven into perfect backing tracks for Doom and his cartoon counterparts, bouncy and fun, fun and funky without being totally goofy. Just a teensy bit malevolent too, with random characters (Shake and Space Ghost) pitted as Doom's foes, while others, like Meatwad and Karl just sort of go along for the ride. And a wild ride it is, samples are brilliantly sliced and diced and re-assembled (check the chorus of "Mince Meat"), repeated listens reveal all sorts of little sonic details, and then Doom just seals the deal, with some of the most amazing rhymes ever (check "Vats Of Urine") and a cartoon personality that might make you wonder when he'll be getting his own show. Sure the year's almost over, but wouldn't really make any difference... HIP HOP RECORD OF THE YEAR!
Not sure how many of you know the Japanese punk band Crow, a kick ass crusty Amebix style crew. Who would have thought that underneath all that leather and denim and spikes lurked a bona fide spaced out, drugged out, hippified psychedelic space rock band. Certainly not us. But here we are, with record number two from Death Comes Along. Not sure how we managed to miss the first one, cuz this one is a killer. Another one of those records that we were basically sold on before we even heard it. The front cover features a photo of a greying-haired Japanese hippy / rocker with a big old medallion and a sparkly flowered shirt. The back side features purple, scythe wielding ghostly grim reapers, on a pink background. Then there's the inset photos of the rest of the band, all appropriately long haired and surly, and song titles like "Death Death Death", "Children Of The Death", and of course "Psychedelic Inferno I", "Psychedelic Inferno II" and "Psychedelic Inferno III". And their last record listed Amebix, Antisect, Crude SS, Flower Travellin' Band, Diamanda Galas, Ash Ra Tempel, Bodkin, Amon Duul and German Oak as influences. How could you NOT be sold?
And this record is no disappointment. In fact, it's way weirder than we could have possibly expected. Simple repetitive, crunchy riffing, with sort of spoken disembodied vocals, loose tribal drumming, the whole thing smothered in layer after layer of acid fried space rock synths and sound effects, swoops and swirls and bleeps and bloops and trills, like all the random abstract parts from every Acid Mothers Temple song piled atop these hazy repetitive space jams. The guitar playing is very metal, but stretched out and repeated so it becomes a droney circular psych workout. The final track on side one is vocals only and is really scary and weird, all heavily affected creepy distorted whispers. The entirety of side two is taken up by "Psychedelic Inferno II" and "Psychedelic Inferno III" a massive psychedelic suite that has more in common with Sunroof! or Vibracathedral Orchestra than it does with Hawkwind. Faux throat singing over an extended wash of floating synthesizers, stretched out guitar feedback, plenty of spaced out swoosh, and distant barely there percussion, very abstract and quite hypnotic. We only managed to get about 20 copies of this record (when Crow were in town recently, they left a box behind with a friend) and it's super limited and hand numbered. Only 444 pressed, and the copies we have are in the 400's, so you know what that means....
This record is so much fun! It makes us feel as though we were eating mochi ice cream and then swinging from the monky bars with long lost friends. The Runners Four starts off a bit slooower than some earlier Deerhoof material, but that's not to say it's lacking at all...just less, how you say, hyperactive and chaotic. The Runners Four still has the child-like candy-bright sheen that you come to expect from Deerhoof, and it comes across as refreshing and lively. There is beauty in their animated quirkiness and their unique method of coloring/scribbling -- with passionate and precocious disorganization and wonderful semi-sensical flourishes -- a little outside the lines with every crayon in the box. Not as bold in its musical hopscotching as their previous Reveille album, but definitely recommended.
We are very afraid of what lurks inside the mind of Nate Denver's head. Let alone his neck. Because if the music that comes out of Nate Denver's mouth, and Nate Denver's band is any indication, then that head is stuffed to overflowing with a dizzying swirl of brain melting, ear bleeding, gut busting, genre smashing, musically dense, dreamily bouncy goofball ultraviolence. And we love it! As always, Denver and his Neck veer wildly from howled distorted vocals over shimmering black drones, to fey, jaunty warbly folk, to faux bluegrass, to geeky indie jangle, to full on death metal and back again. Even at its prettiest and most melodic, there's always a chance that everything will erupt into a squall of screeched vocals or howling feedback. And even when things do stay pretty and gentle, the mood is secretly anything but, with sweet lyrics about death and hell and destruction and mayhem and torture and chaos and brutality. Woah.
But holy fuck, the packaging! A one sided LP, silkscreened on the other to match the printed inner sleeve, making the label of the lp the mouth of a nude howling cartoon man. All wrapped in a thick cardboard sleeve, almost like a record mailer, with the liner notes and songtitles printed on the inside in big black scrawls with pink pictographs illustrating the songs, the outside, a garish image of a creepy white eyed naked hairy man, whose teeth and tongue fold into a flap (positioned not coincidentally right over his privates!) to keep the whole thing securely shut. So intense and super cool looking. Everyone who sees it utters something along the lines of "What the hell is that!!??" These were super limited so we were only able to get a dozen, and are not sure we can get more.
Destruction!!! The '80s German thrash masters are still at it, and they've still "got it" too. We slipped up and didn't review their last album, 2003's Metal Discharge, so let's make up for that by mentioning this one, another old school flashback for sure. If you just want to bang your head and fantasize about bloody cleaver-wielding maniacs, you can't go too far wrong with Destruction's latest (or the one before this one, or the one before that, or all way back to their pre-reunion '80s classics). This is metal music that looks good in a bullet belt, nothing more, nothing less. Simple and aggressive and to the (sharpened) point.
Metal fans should also note that the track "The Alliance Of Hellhounds" features a gang of guest vocalists -- the singers from Dimmu Borgir, Candlemass, Soilwork, Doro, Rage, Death Angel, Hypocrisy (Peter Tagtagren, who produced this album as well), and Iron Maiden (Paul, not Bruce or Blaze) alongside Destruction's own Schmier!
While we're sure the Detroit Cobras remain as volatile and fiery as ever in the live setting, but for their newest album Baby, it sounds like they've toned down the flammables just a bit. At a few points in the very first song, it wouldn't seem at all unlikely for the band to segue right into "Dancing In The Streets" (the original Martha & The Vandellas version, not the Bowie/Jagger one, mind you!), we bet they'd do a pretty rad rendition (that is, if they haven't already, which wouldn't be at all surprising since covers make up the bulk of their repertoire). Perhaps, this might disappoint a few of their old fans who are more accustomed and addicted to the sweat'n'whisky soaked retro blues rawk recklessness, but it just might win them a bunch more on their surprising new label home, the Americana haven Bloodshot Records. When taken in the context of their new usually alt-country-centric label digs, the guitars take on more of a desert twang, the bass a more gunslinger stance, and the drums a galloping pace. But of course it's Rachel Nagy's soulful vocals that define the Cobras' ultra rad sound, and as always her performance keeps you riveted right up front and center. Psst, this is an 'enhanced cd' which means it includes a video for their tune "Cha Cha Twist"!
You'd think that with all of the band members' numerous other projects (solo efforts, Tren Brothers, playing with New Buffalo and Smog) they'd barely have time and energy left for their main band, but nay, 'tis quite the opposite, dear friends. If anything all the additional creative juices have ignited these Cinder(s). Sorry, couldn't resist the pun, but really, there are a number of new elements and ideas which have been seamlessly incorporated into the band's unmistakable sound on this, their seventh album. For one thing they've expanded their palette of instruments considerably including mandolin and... yes, bagpipes! While the trio's trademark string-laden shadows still haunt and envelop the listener as they always have, this time a few moments of light break through the darkness -- and this is where the most radical addition has been made -- in the form of two familiar female voices. Now, perhaps some dyed-in-the-wool fans may balk at this inclusion/intrusion in their beloved band's instrumental tapestry, but the unexpected vocal entrances of Ms Chan Marshall (Cat Power) on "Great Waves" and Ms Sally Timms on "Feral" are pleasant surprises. Both voices are well-suited to the band's languid melancholia, and as they only appear on two numbers, they make for nice interludes amid the seventeen other songs. A stand-out album from Dirty Three!
Dungen's "Stadsvandringar" is Allan's new favorite cd (favorite new cd?). After a couple listens, he was well and truly hooked. Dungen is a Swedish band and what they play is Swedish retro psych-pop. Really really good Swedish retro psych-pop! This disc is, apparently, Dungen's second album after a vinyl-only effort that started a buzz. It looks and sounds perfectly '60s (or early '70s) with a front cover photo-collage in which wunderkind bandleader/singer/guitarist/songwriter Gustav Ejstes could be a dead ringer for a long-haired Owen Wilson. Musically, it sure casts a spell that that's definitely not-of-our-era... with sugary vocal refrains, wild fuzz guitars, Hammond B-3 organ riffing, lush arrangements, and some quite lovely flute bits (gettin' a bit proggy there, nothing wrong with that). Hints of trad Swedish folk music show up as well, not unlike that Arbete Och Fritid reissue we reviewed not long ago, one of Dungen's Svenska psych-prog-folk forefathers. The vocals are all in Swedish, and are sorta nasal, but good. Overall, this disc is just magical, convincingly retro yet standing on its own songwriting-wise. Melodically it's just as irresistable as the latest from Dungen's pal Bjorn Olsson, also reviewed here recently, but of course Dungen is more of a psychedelic rock thing. Imagine, maybe, if you can, something somewhere between the Kinks and Caravan, circa '69, with Swedish singing... Or just take Allan's word for it, this is great! We can only wonder why Dungen's retro-inclined Swedish labelmates like the Caesars and the Soundtrack Of Our Lives have gotten domestic US release and lots of attention, while this even better band is still only an import. Ah well, at least it's worth the higher import price!
NB. we should warn you that there's that annoying copy control technology on this cd (which means that 2 of the 11 songs aren't on Allan's iPod, boo hoo).
This new 37 minute release from psychedelic Philly folksters Espers isn't exactly their eagerly-awaited second album proper (which remains tantalizingly on the horizon). Instead, with The Weed Tree they offer up a sort of "teaser" disc that consists almost entirely of cover songs, with the only Espers original being the the grand and morose "Dead King" that closes the album. The covers include a couple of traditional tunes ("Rosemary Tree" and "Black Is The Color") alongside an eclectic but in the end utterly appropriate mix of material from the likes of the Durutti Column, Nico, Michael Hurley, and even Blue Oyster Cult. Although that might seem like a diverse bunch, in the hands of Espers these songs all do seem to belong together in one natural organism, the roots and branches and leaves of this Weed Tree. Echoing '70s artists like the Incredible String Band, Linda Perhacs and Vashti Bunyan, Espers' music (or here, their take on other people's music) is delicate and dreamy, sad but lovely acoustic folk with a lurking psych presence coming from the humming organ drones and acid guitar flashes... and these songs all lean heavily upon the band's sweet female vocals and harmonies.
Their folky, vaguely madrigal-like take on BOC's "Flaming Telepaths" builds into a freaked-out (but far from hard rock) climax, sounding the most of anything here like something from Espers member Greg Weeks' Awake Like Sleep album (beloved here at AQ). As are Espers themselves! Really nice. If you haven't heard Espers before, but like the other current acid-folk stuff happening such as Josephine Foster and Six Organs and Vetiver and P.G. Six and so forth, this would be a fine place to start! And of course fans will be pleased, as this helps tide us over until the true full-length follow up to their debut appears.
You might already be a big fan of Explosions In The Sky, or you might already unknowingly be familiar with the swelling post-rock sounds of this Austin, TX band via the telly... Either way you'll surely welcome How Strange Innocence. Now a few albums under their belt, E.I.T.S.'s debut full length gets a warm (remastered, repackaged and reissued) 'welcome back' by those fine folks at Temporary Residence Ltd. We've said it before with regards to the band's later releases and we'll say it again about this one, if you dig epic, atmospheric instrumentals a la those of sprawlingly expansive Scots Mogwai, E.I.T.S. very adeptly fills the bill as their American counterpart. An impressive feat to accomplish on a debut.
We're not gonna get into how the "Southern Nihilism" message of misery preached by NOLA's EYEHATEGOD has perhaps been made all too real for all too many by the disaster of Hurricane Katrina and its messed up aftermath that nature and man (and perhaps the entity incorporated into the band's name?) visited upon their hometown and surrounding Gulf Coast region. Geez. "End-Time" message indeed.
Fortunately, you can't keep a good doom band down, however far into the filth they've fallen, as the long-running, long-suffering EHG has proven time and time again, always breaking up, going to jail, playing their last ever gig or releasing their last ever disc but then eventually getting back on (or should we say off?) the horse again and coming back with some more Sabbathy sludgecore for us to enjoy... Last year we listed what was supposed to be their swansong single and now here they are raising their collective ugly head again with this cd. True, it's not a full studio album, though it seems one's in the works (or was, before Katrina). Hope it still is when they get back to what passes for normal for them down in Louisiana. Meanwhile, we have the disc at hand. It's in fact the third one they've released that falls into the category of being a collection of rarities as opposed to an "actual" album. But EHG fans take what they can get. What you get here is some fairly crucial EHG stuff -- an old comp track, their song from the Gummo soundtrack (hey just like Absu!), a couple of live-in-Japan cuts, tracks taken from various split singles that EHG shared with the Cripple Bastards, Soilent Green, and A.C. (the latter track a "Sabbath Jam" from the Sabs tribute 7" series Hydra Head was doing). Plus three new songs in demo form, slated for their aforementioned upcoming full-length when/if that ever happens. These cuts are definitely worthy EHG material, especially fuzzed out and psychedelic and of course sludgy and Sabbathy.
This is pretty much something you'd want if you're a fan -- and you should be, if you like the heavy stuff that we sell the heck out of here at AQ. For one thing, there'd be no Khanate if it wasn't for EHG! After Hellhammer in the early '80s, it was pretty much these guys and Corrupted who pioneered the doomy "sludge-core" sound, y'know.
Finally, the new Fall album! Here reviewed by David Katznelson, AQ pal, Birdman head honcho, and full-on Fall fan.
There is a definite Chicken and Egg thing going on here with this new digital slab of brilliance: who came first, The Fall or The Country Teasers? The Fall did, obviously (for those who got that wrong, go to the back of the class), while the Teasers have based an entire career on their shoulders. But the first track on Fall Heads Roll has a slow slow fucked up country bent engaging past Fall nuggets like Repetition with an added cough syrup quality that is very Teasers-esque. The rest of the album twists into a pure guitar-driven riff-tiffic sonic assault. Included in the set is a great high-anxiety cover of The Move's "I Can Hear The Grass Grow". And then there's the question of where the hell does Mark E still get the energy to kick out these jams? Surely, the drugs cannot have the same affect they did 30 years agoÓWHERE IS HIS DORIAN GRAY PAINTING HANGING, waiting to be stabbed to shreds?
Regardless of the answers, Heads Will Roll is one of the strongest Fall records to date, adding to a killer legacy that includes Dragnet, In A Hole, Live At The Witch Trials and of course the recently released The Complete Peel Sessions [reviewed by Dave elsewhere on this list]!
Besides the Sun City Girls, Guided by Voices (in the nineties) and Elton John (in the early seventies) few artists have been as prolific as The Fall. Legendary radio man/music enthusiast/art supporter John Peel once mused that the only thing he feared about death, was that he would miss the newest Fall release. Point blank: HE LOVED THE FALL. And since his BBC weekly radio show always featured a live recording by a band of his choice, he showed his love by featuring The Fall more than any other band EVER. For over 25 years he had The Fall on his show more than the Undertones, more than T-Rex (and everything Marc Bolan), more than any other band. And what's so interesting about The Fall, is that there are so many different versions of the band within that quarter century, shifts in lineup, sound, outlook, but always remaining obviously and distinctly The Fall: the early years, the Brix years, the post Brix "disco" years, the return to form yearsÓ and yet, with every era, Peel was able to capture a rawness and immediacy that, in a way, defined the band better than any of their recordings. Thus, this relatively inexpensive six CD set with 47 page booklet is a true treasure. Not all the hits are re-recorded here, but each and every version of the band is represented and the sessions scream off of each cd with a freshness that will certainly and permanently convert any non-Fall enthusiast and cause any and all Fall enthusiasts to stay indoors listening for the next month or two. Beware...some of the versions of your favorite Fall songs are blissfully extended and completely twisted and there just may be some songs you have not heard elsewhere. This box set is a must-have item (right up there with the Stooges' Funhouse Box).
First things first, let's just say that nothing we say is gonna dissuade the legions who've been tingling with anticipation about the new Franz Ferdinand album. Second things second, you should know that we don't just dis stuff 'cuz it's the flavor of the day... geez, we quite often like the flavor of the day! That outta the way, we can also say that while FF have by no means offered up an album that'll have ya shouting, "Holy shit, you've gotta check this out!", they haven't even offered up a single song deserving of that sort of exclamation. This ain't their swaggering hooks'n'hits-a-plenty self-titled debut, that's for sure. Really, you could count on each of these hip bands of the last couple years having at least one kickass single per album, and FF actually had a few of 'em including "Take Me On". So we were somewhat surprised and disappointed to find that YCHISMB doesn't have even one! WTF? It's sorta lame to discover that the songs that do catch your ear are the ones on which the band's already resorting to regurgitating the riff from the abovementioned 'hit'. Even the cover art is lacking -- they've simply taken an image straight from a vintage Russian film poster and done little else to make it distinctly their own. Not at all surprising really when you recall their debut's even more ho-hum artwork. It is surprising though when you consider the band's ultra stylin' videos. This is genuinely disappointing. Hmmm, the trouble with album titles such as this one's is that often it can turn around and bite you on the ass... a la "Yes, you could have it so much better!" And we have had it so much better -- namely their previous album. Let's give her another spin, shall we?
Here's the third fine full length from Ms Paula Frazer (also of Tarnation). We've mentioned before that her soaring vocal delivery brings to mind a female counterpart to Chris Isaak, and it still does. Seemingly effortless. She also continues to draw inspiration from various eras of Americana -- from the fluttering ruffles on the ladies' elegant gowns at the Grand Ol' Opry to '70s soft rock horns of bands such as Chicago -- bringing it all together under her own captivating umbrella and distinguishing it with the lush sounds Rhodes keyboards, pedal steel and some tasteful tambourine. She's assembled quite a luminous cast of players too including American Music Club's Marc Capelle, Court & Spark's James Kim and Scott Hirsch, the Moore Brothers, Oranger's John Hofer, and former Kronos Quartet cellist Joan Jeanrenaud.
Friends of Dean Martinez want you to just chill out... and gaze at this Lost Horizon. Instead of heading in the direction of a bar this eve, how about doin' a bit of lounging outside as the sun creeps down and as the band unwinds a steady strand of slow slinking bluesiness. FODM are well-skilled at creating sumptuous atmospheres, and this one's really gorgeous and mellow (with the exception of the seventh track "Hidden Out Of Sight" which is the album's most active and gritty). Some of it is very much along the lines of John Fahey's contemplative guitar abstractions on his Red Cross album, while other numbers bring to mind the glinting, droning warmth of Sweden's Bjorn Olsson. Actually this makes us feel like we're in a futuristic (like with Swedish neo-retro design) senior citizens' home. Not like in that it makes me feel old, just in that it makes me feel CHILL like in a "Visit Beautiful Florida" commercial for a Florida that is wayyyyy cooler than the real Florida is. We like it...though we like the live album a bit better....if we ever have an underwater or outerspace nightclub we're most definitely booking these guys.
There's no real clear answer to why this album was recorded or even released. It's not that it's bad; actually these recently recorded versions of a bunch of Gang of Four classics are pretty darn good. "Damaged Goods," "Anthrax," "To Hell With Poverty," and "At Home He's A Tourist" are just as aggressive, punchy, and groovy as the originals. Especially since Gang of Four just reissued their masterpiece Entertainment, there's not much justification for the album. But if you need to hear Entertainment and a whole bunch of the later singles redone with the benefit of a pristine digital recording, look no further!
Imagine that this split release is a see-saw, with Graves At Sea on one side and Asunder on the other. They're both so heavy that the teeter-totter wouldn't totter, but simply snap in the middle, leaving both bands sitting there, glaring at one another, having no fun at all. But no fun sounds good, if you like doom like we do. And both of these bands do the doom quite well, ultra low and slow -- so slow that just to make it through a song they need at least ten minutes (the two Graves At Sea tracks clock in at 10:45 and 11:16 while Asunder's contribution lasts 18:59) and you'll need a dose of anti-depressants. I mean, is this a split release or a suicide pact?
Graves At Sea (who had a cd-r release a while ago, but as yet no full-length cd) are from LA and basically are along the lines of Khanate, Burning Witch, or Corrupted -- nasty, feedbacking, hateful sludgecore, with a dreadlocked vocalist (known as the "bloody guy" around here) who spits out a screech like Edgy from BW or Khanate's Alan Dubin. And they're not to be confused with Buried At Sea, by the way, although both bands play music dug from the same charnel pit!
Graves At Sea make a perfect pairing with Asunder, who are the Bay Area's contribution to the "funereal doom" subgenre, aligning with the likes of Skepticism, Evoken, and Disembowelment. Majestic and morose metal played at a glacial pace, with both the use of cellos and the presence of ex-Weakling guitarist/vocalist John Gossard giving 'em extra dismal atmosphere. Their track here is definitely in the vein of their epick A Clarion Call album from last year.
Her Space Holiday's Marc Bianchi slathers his pop poetry with just enough peanut butter and honey that you can't taste...or um, hear...what a vulnerable sandwich he actually is. You can't see that he's making a sly bid for your heart and soul until you finish bopping your head along to the bedroom beats and the occassional spaceship-blippy quirk. Can't see the weight of the dangerous world on his aching shoulders until you open up the liner notes and read lines such as "push all your friends away with the cruel things that you said/if you need company you've got the voices in your head." He's like a depressed sunbather who can describe all the beauty of a physical situation without actually enjoying it himself. The music swells along, but Bianchi is always pulling his presence along in the undertow, sanding down his vocals so they share space democratically with the other instruments on the album.
It all comes off kind of like The Postal Service but without the huggable whine, or the spacier bits of the Field Mice without the wide-eyed clarity. "The Past Presents the Future" is not as musically offbeat as earlier H.S.H. efforts, "The Young Machines" or "Manic Expressive"; it is smoother, slightly more mature, and a bit more lyrically global, though it still mostly sticks with the sounds and methods that are tried and true for Bianchi. So...there are less chunks in the peanut butter, but still plenty of bees in the honey.
Dark, droney, dirgey metal...our favorite! Yep, this new band called Hyattari is an immediate AQ sludge/art metal fave, from West Virgina but sounding like they hail from the deeps of space, giving your ears a cold void embrace in the style of such bands as Skullflower, Halo, and Earth. Hyattari's music consists of uber-heavy sheets of low-end echoing riff-drone on bass and guitar that sound SO GOOD, joined (not even right away, but a little while into the record) by plodding, rigid, militaristic programmed percussion. It's sorta like Growing meets Godflesh! The seven tracks here (with doomy titles like "14,000,000,000 Years Ago", "Collapse", and "Harvesting Sod") pretty much slowly flow unbroken from one to the next, although within a few of the songs you'll find some sudden, short interludes of gentle melody. Haunting and lonely lulls in the sheer HEAVINESS that fills so much of this disc like glacial ice advancing over the globe during the last Ice Age. And it's mostly instrumental, with a small smattering of Neurosisy shouted/screamed vocals, augmented by sampled voices, buried in the massive mix like lost shortwave transmissions or ghostly EVP intercepts.
Besides the abovementioned, a few other artists that this reminds us of include: SUNNO))), Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Isis, Pelican, Cult Of Luna -- and the natural VLF radio recordings of Stephen P. McGreevy, 'cause this disc ends (though it doesn't seem like it ever should end, instead continuing on eternal and infinite like space itself) with a lengthy, mysterious field recording (maybe?) that might just be sferics or other electro-magnetic phenomena from the Earth's atmosphere. Very nice.
Originally self-released, and now wisely picked up by Earache's new avant/extreme Codebreaker imprint (run by the guy who used to do the now defunct Rage of Achilles label), The Light Carriers gets a big AQ recommendation to anyone into this sort of slow n' low majesty.
A new Khanate! 'Nuff said perhaps, as all you AQ doom customers surely know what that means! Ultra-depressive dirge metal from some of the best in the biz. Capture & Release, a two-song, 43 minute "ep" (maxi-ep? mini-lp? heck, it's a full-length, really!) is the third cd release from this NYC-based band, featuring Stephen O'Malley from SUNNO))) on guitar and graphics, bassist James Plotkin of OLD, singer Alan Dubin (also from OLD), and drummer Tim Wyskida. By now, Khanate have really established a distinct style of extreme, slow, scary, art-metal. To the point that we're always citing them as a comparison when describing other bands. They're the standard by which anyone indulging in feedback-filled heaviness, anguished/evil vocalizations, creepy atmosphere, double digit song-lengths, and rumbling sub-sonics is judged -- like when we say Bunkur or Graves At Sea (reviewed on this list) are bands in the style of Khanate. So if would be easy to review Capture & Release if it were by *another* band -- we'd say it was a lot like Khanate and that'd be enough to recommend it to many of you! Of course, Khanate themselves can be compared to predecessors Corrupted and especially Eyehategod, godfathers of feedback sludge brutality. But Khanate's compositions are way more extended, dramatically ambitious, and clinically produced than EHG, and utilize "experimental" sonic textures and loud/soft dynamics in the manner of a post-rock band as well. This new disc really exemplified this approach, with the second, 25-minute track "Release" featuring lots of really quiet parts that make us think a hypothetical Khanate / Bohren Und Der Club Of Gore tour would be PERFECT. (We can dream, can't we?) Vocalist Alan Dubin makes the most of these "vulnerabilities" in the band's otherwise crushing sound barrage, with dark, cryptic, and psychologically suggestive rather than explicit lyrics wherein he seems to be inhabiting the role of the deviant antagonist from a Thomas Harris novel...but poetically enough that perhaps we can all relate, and indeed find release in their music.
Another weird and wonderful installment in the fascinating and varied history of this lost musical visionary. Many of you avant garde types will no doubt recognize Kirchin's name from the infamous Nurse With Wound list of favorite and influential experimental recordings. But over the last few years, UK label Trunk has been releasing more and more lost bits of Kirchin's wild musical past and so far it's all been totally fascinating and compelling listening. Abstractions opens with eleven tracks, the Abstractions of the Industrial North recording proper. Dreamy and pastoral, cinematic and light and airy. Quite lovely and not even remotely avant garde or freaked out. Things get weirder with the nine bonus tracks, all cues from rare musical library ten inch records. Freaked out, acid tinged prog, mixed with groovy Euro soundtrack music, horns and organs, chimes and vibes, bombastic percussion and psych rock guitars all woven into what could be the clost soundtrack to the coolest spy thriller you've never seen. Smooth and groovy, with just enough weird stuff going on to keep it interesting. Pay close attention to track 18, "Pageing Sullivan", a burbling, psychedelic soundtrack jaunt through India via Paris, or something, but on the guitar you'll find a pre-Led Zeppelin Jimmy Page! And as always, super informative and interesting liner notes!
As with previous Koenjihyakkei (aka Hundred Sights Of Koenji) and Ruins releases, this boasts a bunch of tough to say, impossible to understand titles/lyrics... apparently they're all written in a made up language that's part of band leader Tatsuya Yoshida's characteristic Magma worship ('cause the French proggers he and we love so much did the same thing). So we don't know if "Angherr Shisspa" really means anything or not. But one guess would be "Utterly Crazed". Or how 'bout "Complex Mania"? Or "Mind Boggling"? Something like that would be descriptive of this, the fourth album from the Ruins drummer's amazing Koenjihyakkei ensemble.
There's been some line-up changes this time around. Yoshida remains on drums naturally, and longtime bassist Sakamoto Kengo still holds down the bottom end. But there's a new person on keyboards and an additional new singer as well. And the guitar is totally gone now, replaced with a reed player, who adds a bit of chaotic free jazziness to the mix, though of course Koenjihyakkei's playing and arrangements remain totally tight and technical.
With all five band members credited with vocals, it almost sounds like this could some sort of operatic stage performance, everyone taking the part of a character in some (again, impossible to understand) story. Very dramatic and action-packed though! If you're in the mood for some excessive prog indulgence, just ask for "Angherr Shisspa".
Many changes greeted us when we put this new Ladytron album on for its inaugural spin. For one thing, they're much less electronic dance-oriented, for another they've beefed up their line-up and sound most noticeably by adding a human drummer. There's far less of their shameless Kraftwerk worship this time around, and some more edgier power pop sensibilities (think Elastica or more recently Canada's Metric). On this their third full length, Ladytron also venture more into the territory of space age euro-pop. Many songs on Witching Hour conjure images of lovely stylish 60's jetsetters whisking their way through Heathrow Airport on their way to the next exotic destination. Light, effervescent and pretty. If you liked their song "Playgirl" from their first album 604, there's a lot here that will tickle your fancy. This certainly continues on in that delightful vein with soft female vocals charming the pants off the listener from start to finish. Oooooh la la!
The weird and wonderful Trunk records who in the past has brought us unreleased soundtrack music from Dawn Of The Dead, the Psychomania soundtrack, the Flexi-Sex compilation of X-rated flexi discs as well as a handful of archival recordings from the amazing Basil Kirchin, returns with another amazing, and totally bizarre collection, this time it's all sorts of creeped out ambience, demented sound effects, chopped and spliced mood music, haunting drones and all manner of spooky swirly spacey soundtrack music. Originally issued as super limited acetates just for friends, later licensed and re-released on 78rpm library discs, these recordings remained mostly unheard, outside a few science fiction and mystery programs, including Dr. Who!
The story of Leslie's life was about as weird and fascinating as his music: grew up in an Irish castle, became a fighter pilot, wrote one of the earliest new age / UFO books, recorded this here music, quit music, opened a nightclub in a castle, punched out a reviewer who gave a scathing review to his wife's one woman show, wrote some spoof science fiction, finally developed a huge interest in meditation and spirtualism, pursuing both until his death in 2001.
These tracks recorded between 1955 and 1959 are so demented and ahead of their time, they could very well be some dada-ist sound collage from Nurse With Wound or some modern experimental music concrete. Being as this is taken from one of the original acetates, the whole thing sounds warm and fuzzy and slightly distorted, adding to its alien otherworldliness. Lots of primitive tape manipulation, strange found sounds, sped up and slowed down, bathed in reverb and echo, the sounds of flies and wind and whatever else he could get his hands on, all jumbled together into slow moving slabs of ominous creep and freaked out buzz and scuttle, droning and haunting and dark and demented. It's a bit hard to believe music this dense and weird and wonderful could remain lost for so long, or that it could be the product of a man dabbling in music, rather than a musician who had dedicated his whole life and being to sound. Includes Leslie's music for Music Of The Voids Of Outer Space, The Day The Sky Fell In, Death Of Satan and Sacrifice B.C. 5,000, as well as Leslie's original notes on each, and a brief overview of his life and history.
Everyone wants a glimpse into the blackened Leviathan vaults, containing the legendary 20 or so cd-r's and cassettes recorded and released during the years 2000-2002, early demos that played more like full-on proper albums, hell they WERE full-on albums, highlights of which were released as the two disc Verrater (soon to be repressed!) on tUMULt a few years back. But Wrest from Leviathan has made it clear that those were then, and averaging a new release every few months, including full lengths and splits, is now. Well, that is, except for this. Probably your only chance, outside Verrater, to hear where it all began. Howl Mockery At The Cross is an essential shard of the mysterious obscured blackened history of Leviathan, and while sonically a bit rougher than the more recent records, it's still a dark and twisting, buzzing and howling serpentine trip through the black, bleak and brutal sonic world of Wrest and Leviathan. Some of these tracks were actually first choices to be included on Verrater, but at the time Wrest had planned on re-recording them. But with each new record, and after a few aborted attempts, the idea of going back to old songs seemed less and less appealing. So this is now the only place to hear those amazing tracks. Lots of that blackened buzz we love so much, but as with all Leviathan records, there are plenty of distinctly un-BM parts all over the place: dense mathrockisms, blissed out droning breakdowns, sludgy doom, bizarre times signatures, impossibly complex drumming, mournful minor key melodies, that immediately recognizable heavily affected demonic howl, all twisted into a gorgeously dark and demented, moody and murky blackened squall. Even includes a Death In June cover, properly drenched in buzz and blackness, so much so that it sounds like it could have been penned by Wrest himself. Striking metallic silver cover with the Leviathan upside down cross and dripping moon logo.
Hypermagic Mountain leaves the popular Rhode Island spazz-core duo Lightning Bolt's other records huffing glue and passed out in the dust, believe it or not. On the bass, Brian Gibson covers some of the same wandering scale build-up stuff he's always done, but with so much more intensity and concentration... and needless to say SO MUCH FASTER!! Hard to believe a bass can produce riffs and licks as insane as these. In fact, when the drums drop out and the bass is left to go nuts, it almost sounds like Van Halen's "Eruption". Woah. And drummer Brian Chippendale is as impenetrable as he's been in the past but again, SO MUCH FASTER. WTF?! Did they take some sort of vegan super-power pills? There's also a healthy smathering (a slathering? a lathering? more than a smattering) of hard-rock riffage all over the place that in conjunction with endless super-speed drum insanity (note drumnerds: only one kick drum), create an amazing and noise-manic rockin' sound.
And was ist dat? Woah again! Some choicest moments indeed start to reference a sense of "song", moreso than we've ever heard from them before. We're damn impressed! In so many different ways, this album is incredibly surprising. As mind-numbingly stand-alone awesome as they were before, they are so much more now somehow. LB records have always been a strange beast in terms of production, c'mon, how would YOU record a wall of ear melting bass and non stop spastic drum splatter? But it was never really about sound quality, the production was an afterthought really, who cares when you're soaked in sweat and pinballing around a dayglo pit. The recording quality here is a bit muddier than their previous, already sort of a little muddy sounding albums Wonderful Rainbow and Ride The Skies, but it suits this ultra riffy LB of new for sure. Longtime 'Bolt fans have probably been hankering for greater levels of grit and distortion anyway, like in the old days, so it makes perfect sense that their new sound only adds to their spiffy new riffier hard-rocking maelstrom!
