We were getting worried. After showing up on practically three AQ New Arrivals Lists in a row (221, 223, 224), not to mention a brace of releases a few weeks earlier found on lists 217 and 218, we went three whole lists without ANYTHING new by Acid Mothers Temple to review! Well, there was that excellent Kawabata Makoto collaboration with Up-Tight that we listed on 226, but we're talking about full AMT band albums. So it's a relief to have this show up -- and it's just in time. Y'know, just in case there's a Japanese psych freak on your Christmas shopping list, and you were wondering what to get for 'em, maybe they haven't got this yet!
Despite the "European Tour 2005" designation, this isn't recorded live in Europe, but at home in Japan at the Acid Mothers Temple itself, and was meant for sale as merch on that particular tour. We'd guess these copies are the leftovers, luckily enough for those of us who missed the AMT mothership's descent on Europe! There's but two songs on here (as has been AMT's wont of late), the 38 minute "Cosmic Funeral Route 666" and the 5:42 "Phantom Fire Ball". Lots of spaced-out soundz as you might expect, with "Cosmic Funeral" being an electric procession that chugs along densely before things get hushed and more spacious at about the half-way point... until the 24 minute mark when the cosmic funeral train starts a'rollin' again, and some deep, dark, cavernous guitar is unleashed unto the proceedings. The overall vibe (and that's definitely the term to use) isn't actually all that "funereal", really. This ain't AMT's take on Skepticism. It's just another krautrocky cosmic jam from these modern masters. Following that, the briefer "Phantom Fire Ball" is a bit more energetic and distorted, reminding us of Comets On Fire, with urgent vocals that also make us think (as we already were thinking anyway), "man these guys like Hawkwind don't they!"
Packaged in a slim cardboard sleeve like the other discs on the AMT label, and doubtless limited... though of course if you miss this we're sure they're be another new AMT coming up soon!
On their past two fine albums A Story In White and Sleep And Release, these Scots' waves of crashing dynamics have drawn comparisons to Mogwai, but on Seclusion they've taken their sound to such a heavy and dark place where perhaps even those Mogwai lads dare not tread. Although the album starts out sounding like it's gonna be a college radio ready emo-rock record with the song "Inkwell", a sense of emotional unravelling gradually seeps in over the course of the other five songs that rises to the distraught degrees of bands such as Xiu Xiu and Frog Eyes. Ahh, what d'ya know, we just noticed the third song's title... "The Unravelling". Some might find the stormier, near-metal moments on this album to be downright fierce, but the fever is broken by some truly lovely melodic, heartrending phrases as well as some brief bursts of mathiness. Another great one from Aereogramme, available as an import only for some reason we don't know. Recommended!
Oh Fiona...you make everything so difficult, but we love you for it. The album that we thought might not ever come out. You maybe heard about the early Jon Brion version that apparently the record label said no to. But then Fiona said actually she didn't like it and it was her choice to re-record it. She enlisted sometime hip-hop producer Mike Elizondo and the result is maybe her best record yet! But beyond all the confusion and delay and mixed messages the important part is that Fiona is for sure one of the smartest pop stars around. Her songs so rich and her voice always so evocative and dead on. In a perfect world she would be number one on the pop charts without a doubt. The dual disc includes live performances at Club Largo (where Jon Brion did his residency) as well as a really funny video for "Not About Love" starring chubby bearded comedian Zach Galinakis. Speaking of "Not About Love", has their ever been a heavier torch song? We don't think so, you can almost imagine Codeine or some doom metal band covering it, with it's weird stop start chorus and pounding minor key dirges. So amazing. Apple may be one of the only real divas who will stand the test of time.
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!
So good! Axelrod founded the "black music" division of Capitol records in the '60s. During his reign at Capitol he produced amazing records by Cannonball Adderley, Lou Rawls and David McCallum. He also pretty much created the two weirdest Electric Prunes albums. What has been hardest to track down are three of his own records during that era: Songs of Experience, Songs Of Innocence, and Earth Rot. On these, Axelrod put together an orchestra of sound complete with strings, hammond organ and a super rich backbeat that's been sampled and worshiped by the likes of DJ Shadow, Madlib and Dr Dre. This collection compiles tracks from those three albums as well as a few choice cuts he produced for other artists at Captiol circa '66-'70. His sound is one that laid the foundation for the explosion in fusion which would happen in the '70s. Miles Davis always gave props to Axelrod and one could argue that he was very responsible for helping lay the foundation for a work like Bitches Brew to be born. Taking the richness of soul, the freedom of jazz, elements of classical composition and hints of rock and psych-pop Axelrod is one of the few guys who can get away with wearing sunglasses inside 'cause he was just that cool!
We managed to get just a handful of these super limited (and seemingly already out of print, arghh!) cd-r's documenting this particular abstract free noise summit, that took place earlier this year live on the air at KDVS in Sacramento. Featuring names you should all be familiar with by now, Axolotl, Mouthus and the Skaters. Not as noisy as one might expect, instead this is some strange ambient industrial workout, murky and muddy, lots of processed vocals, clanging percussion, and weird swells of sound, cloaked in a dense swirl of lo-fi hiss. Sounds like it could be some lost live Throbbing Gristle outtake. Thick squirming guitars, creep and crawl through a craggy soundscape of thick gritty drones and jagged streaks of feedback, while haunting vocals moan and howl above the crepuscular din.
Another lil' shortie from Mr. Banhart! Please note the vinyl and cd versions' track listings are not the same! The cd features the title song (taken from Devendra's most recent full length Cripple Crow) as well as two exclusive tracks not on the 7" ("Lickety Split" and "Chicken"). The 7" record features the title song plus one exclusive track not on the cdep ("La Pastorcita Perdida").
We sure are suckers for unconventional music making. Be it accidental (ice melting, applause, junkyards, metal rusting, fire burning) or environmental (elephants, sled dogs, cats purring, FROGS!, bats) and most especially the mysterious or unexplained (the sounds of the dead, breaking through the radio waves, haunting shortwave spy transmissions). Then there is a whole other realm of unconventional music making: the mad scientist. Why form a band, when you can construct robots and machines to play all the instruments? Why actually play the piano, or the guitar, or the drums, when you can construct an elaborate set of pulleys and levers and gears and axles that will play them for you? Why be happy with a turntable that plays records with only one stylus when you can make music with a turntable equipped with multiple needles? We can only assume Pierre Bastien asked these same questions, and the answer he came up with is Pop. Forty five minutes of simple, repetitive, hypnotic and mesmerizing machine driven minimal krautrock. That's right, krautrock is what this sounds like.
In lesser hands a room full of self playing instruments would most likely result in a sterile series of sound events, but Bastien has a deft hand and a keen ear, and breathes life into his automatons, delicate contraptions that each contribute a unique element to a song, not just spitting out sounds -- strange gadgets that play simple chords on a keyboard, an apparatus to beat out simple insistent rhythms, all manner of haunting minor key plinkety plonk, crisp windup toy clickety clacks and disgruntled grinding large machinery groans and whines, some strange warped turntablizations, wearily wheezing woodwinds, all woven into spare stretches of minimally propulsive ambience. Sounds a bit like an army of tiny wind up toys assembled in an automated sonic ballet, an inhuman menagerie making music more human that it seems possible. The vibe is very fuzzy and washed out, droney and dolorous, smeary and sepia-toned, definite shades of Philip Jeck and Tim Hecker, with plenty of creak and crackle surrounding the minimal melodies and subtle rhythmic pulses within each song. It's easy to become obsessed with the method behind the music, and the amount of obviously painstaking preparation that went into creating these machines. And why not?! It's absolutely mind boggling to be sure, but even beyond the mere construction of these music making mechanisms, imagine figuring out how to get these 'things' to make these sounds, and THEN somehow to compose music this lovely and captivating. Seems impossible. Surely, Pop is too perfect to be accidental, too beautiful to be pure luck, too musical to be anything other than the work of a brilliant mad sonic scientist. Or better yet, and possibly more likely, imagine Bastien is nothing if not lucky, a man who somehow stumbled upon a secret world of machines, in some mysterious forgotten warehouse, in some dark overlooked part of town, an insulated little world populated by these devices, not a living breathing creature in sight, just shelves full of strange little contraptions, all running endlessly and self controlled, creating this beautiful music as if that's what they were designed to do, and he was just the first to stumble upon this place, these things, and was able to capture these mysterious sounds before one night, that building and those things were nowhere to be found. Sounds farfetched, maybe a little silly, but it's the sort of romantic story that befits music this warm and beautiful and mysterious, whether it was ultimately the work of a man, or the just the serendipitous sounds of a room full of machines.
When it rains, it pours. Especially when we're talking about, um... shit? Bathtub shitter that is. Now that the world has discovered the joys of Bathtub Shitter and the 'Shitter are no longer just an underground grindcore secret, the band have systematically been re-releasing their long out of print (and unbelievably kick ass) early seven inch singles. Bathtub Shitter were pretty dang prolific with more than a dozen singles and even more compilation tracks under their belts before they finally released a proper full length. So here we have the Angels Save Us 7" from 2002 and the Mark A Muck 7" from 2001, as well as a bonus track from a long out of print grindcore compilation. So if you're new to Bathtub Shitter, here is as good a place to start as anywhere. Imagine a grindcore band that incorporates bits of Zeppelin, and surf rock, and metal into their grind, occasionally veer off on questionable tangents and explore truly bizarre musical flights of fancy the way Japanese bands are often wont to do. But as with most bands, it's the vocals that -make- the band, but most bands probably don't have a skinny Japanese vocalist who bellows like an overwight demon with indigestion one minute, and screeches and squeals like an hysterical teenage girl the next. Sounds weird? It is. Really weird. But so funny and cool. A completey unpredicatable and super fun blast of chaotic grinding metallic rock and roll weirdness.
Limited to 1000 copies and hand numbered!
Arcade Fire alert! Sonically the Canadian ensemble, who go by the name Bell Orchestre, distill together all of the disparate sounds of the highly lauded music collective lead by Godspeed You Black Emperor and Broken Social Scene, but it actually features members of, yes, Arcade Fire! At times richly and expansively atmospheric, at others things adhere to more traditional pop structures. Incorporating traditional and less traditional instrumentation (yes, lots of bells, brass, strings, metallic percussion, recordings of animals, a typewriter and other noisemakers), Recording A Tape The Colour Of The Sky is quite a wonderful encapsulation of the many fine sounds coming out of Canada these days (Montreal, in particular), sans vocals. Fevered violin bowing here, a roaming gypsy-ish interlude there, a driving beat here, a lonely french horn over there. And to endear it even more to our ears, the album all begins in a similarly wistful, foghorns in the distance fashion as recent AQ fave Yha Hamaraa by the Finnish band Paavoharju. Packaged in a cool die-cut cardboard sleeve.
Double (cd-r) disc from SF's favorite wild and wooly, rambunctious, foot stomping, bar fighting, beer drinking bluegrass outift, the Big Meat Combo, featuring Chewy Marzolo of Hammers Of Misfortune on drums. These two discs collect some live shows and some random studio recordings, that perfectly capture the playful drunken abandon of these guys. Songs about drinking, and fucking, and fighting, Tourette's Syndrome, Guns, and so much more. Steel strings, thumping tubs, harmonica, and harmony vocals, all snarled up in a chair smashing guns in the sky, musical bar brawl. Includes some unlikely covers: theme from Dukes Of Hazzard, "Working In A Coal Mine", "Fat Bottomed Girls", the Jungle Book theme and more. Fans of Bloodshot country, Pine Valley Cosmonauts, Jon Wayne, Waco Brothers, Split Lip Rayfield and the like will definitely dig!
Blood Cult are as far as we know, the only purveyors of Redneck Black Metal around, or maybe more accurately the only ones who admit to it. And Blood Cult are damn proud of being BM rednecks, as their apparent theme song "Redneck Black Metal" proves (oh, and it's printed in huge letters along the spine of the cd!). This is the first proper release from this Illinois horde after a slew of cd-r, cassettes and demos. Definitely their best -sounding- record by a long shot, equal parts splatter rock, crossover, early black metal, NWOBHM, and thrash. Think Venom, D.R.I., the Accused -- primitive and thrashy, noisy and chaotic, with some killer riffs n' some splattery chaotic drumming. They're definitely a little tongue in cheek for sure with some of the lyrics and song titles ("The Moweaqua Coal Mine Disaster", "Cheap Guitars", "Illinoisan Thunder", etc.). This boasts some killer catoony artwork too, from the same label that brought us Enbilulugugal!!
We all know that Kate Bush's fans are some of the most devoted and patient ones around. We're sure all of you out there who count yourselves in those ranks have been tingling with anticipation for this, her first studio album in eons (her last one being 1993's The Red Shoes). It's a double album, even! And we're pleased to report that it doesn't disappoint the diehards nor the newcomers. Although the overall production has an adult contemporary sheen to it, she sounds positively refreshed and bursting with creative inspiration. While Aerial is certainly filled with her trademark unconventional elegance and enigmatic grace, our interest in this album was extra piqued when AQ pal Wobbly mentioned a few notable and peculiar elements that Bush has encorporated into a few of the numbers such as bird song and laughter (the album's title track and closer "Aerial"), her son's voice and a recital of Pi (on the second song)!
C.O.B. (Clive's Original Band) was the creation of Incredible String Band founding member and one of the grandfathers of today's fringe folk scene, Clive Palmer. We don't know if you got the chance to see Mr. Palmer alongside fellow ISB founder Mike Heron at last year's reunion show, but it definitely seemed like his banjo-picking was a little rusty and he looked kind of dazed (no wonder, what with 35 years out of the spotlight). When this record (C.O.B.'s second and best, or at least most exotic and weird) was made in 1972, though, he was in top form, and the result is such beautiful melancholy! Some of the instumentation here is similar to that of ISB (acoustic guitar, banjo, clarinet) but with lots of harmonium and the addition of a dulcimer with a widened bridge (invented by C.O.B. bandmember John Bidwell), an odd droning sound that darkens the mood a bit more than most stuff you'll hear from ISB. If you're a fan of British folk in the traditional and/or acid vein such as Shirley Collins, Trees, Forest Fairport Convention, or current underground folkies such as Espers, Vashti Bunyan, or Current 93, this cd promises to be a true wistful pleasure.
There is no doubt in our minds that Pavement has some crazy die-hard fans. This one is for them. Ever dream of hearing Pavement songs done as jazz standards? Well James Carter did and in fact he put together a quartet of mighty fine players to do just that. These aren't just like indie rock hacks picking up the sax, fender and upright bass. These are very competent yet pretty straightforward jazz musicians. It would have been a little more exciting to see what more outside jazz hands did with Malkmus' back catalog. But if you're a diehard Pavement fan you still might want this to feed your obsession.
We just got these brand new Casiotone For The Painfully Alone 7" records straight from the man himself! It's a split 7" with his pal Sara Han aka Fox Pause. His side has three of his wonderfully doleful heartache tunes with his trademark deep boyish near-spoken delivery and his comparatively spritely percolating Casiotone rhythms and melodies.
Her side has four much more peppy twee songs. She sings in the opposite end of the octave range from him. High, sugary sweetness.
Been waiting with baited breath for the new Cat Power album? Yup, so have we! Psst, it's due out in late January. Her label, Matador Records have kindly presented us with a glimpse of what's to come... for less than a dollar... and if these two songs are any indication, it's gonna be an absolutely wonderful doozy. She's picked right up from where her achingly gorgeous last album You Are Free left off. Wow!
The Bay Area's Brothers Pitt and company quickly follow-up their Chinatown Bakeries debut cd-r Rise Wide Open with this lil' guy. This disc might only be 3" in size, but it's filled to the gills with twenty one minutes of music. Simply put, Sleeps is more homespun, folksy goodness. Perhaps a bit more trippy -- in a Jandek or Wooden Wand And The Vanishing Voice sort of way -- than their last offering. Nonetheless, fine stuff once again!
Dead Raven Choir, a one man band, now living in Poland, formerly of Texas, purveyor of damaged free folk, abstract strum and of course utterly grim black metal. We tried desparately to keep up with his non stop cd-r release schedule and his constant flitting from folk to metal and back again, sometimes pausing beautifully right in between, a gnarled hybrid of campfire twang and lo-fi buzz, then there's Wolfmangler too, his country doom outfit! But, as is often the case, most of those cd-r's disappeared in no time flat. So it's Weird Forest to the rescue, compiling 4 LONG out of print cd-r's (Sheath & Knife, Grand Ravishing Extravaganza, Sevenfold Songs Of Death, and Sturmfuckingleider) onto three lps and packaging them in this "dark forest-clad" box. This one is definitely for the true, the grim, the cult, this is utterly dismal, freaked out and fuzzed out lo-fi black metal. But while sonically it may fit somewhere between the foresty buzz of early Ulver, the midtempo droning hypno plod of Burzum, and the thrashy blur of Darkthrone, this is Dead Raven Choir after all, so beneath and amidst all the buzzing and riffing, there are plenty of banjos, mandolins, and lots of percussion, a creepy clattery folk undercurrent, albeit all bathed in hiss and drone and distortion, black metal folk may be more accurate, closer in feel to Abruptum, a black pagan ritual, shrill and noisy and harsh and HEAVY, but in that home-recorded, perfectly underproduced way. Awesome!
This comes packaged in a printed black box, the three lps are housed in thick black sleeves, there are seven inserts, beautifully printed on thick vellum, with liner notes in perhaps the most illegible black metal font EVER!
LIMITED TO 999 COPIES WORLDWIDE!
Here's a another brief blast of cassette goodness released by AQ pal Mike Donovan (Big Techno Werewolves, Nam, Sounds Of The Barbary Coast, The Ropers, Dial Records) of local jazz noise outfit Death Sentence: Panda. As with most releases by the very DIY San Francisco fella Mr. Donovan, there is only going to be a very small homespun run of these made, so needless to say, don't snoooooze!
Pssst... we also have a small number of some other Folding cassette releases, all with hand made covers -- a short one from Donovan's own current band Sic Alps, plus a compilation he compiled with artist Chris Johanson called SSSSSOSS2 and ones by Dark Yellow Swans (aka Yellow Swans) and NVH with Six Organs Of Admittance's Ben Chasny. Dust off yer cassette deck!
If you haven't seen the Scorsese documentary yet go rent or buy it asap! Whether you thought yourself a Dylan diehard or not you will be converted. This double cd companion is maybe the perfect Dylan collection for both life long devotees as well as those who have never totally bought into the myth. Disc one is all acoustic and features demo and home recordings of a young Dylan at his most raw. Disc two is what makes it though. The electric Dylan! Complete with the blistering live plugged in "Maggie's Farm" from the Newport Folk Festival which had all the traditional folkies angered including Pete Seger who actually tried to get wire cutters to kill the sound of what he thought a mess and betrayal of true folk. But truth is, when Dylan plugged in and showed he belonged to no one, he helped lay down a foundation of independent spirited rock/folk that has been carried on during the last quarter century and currently the flame can be seen in the hands of the likes of The Mountain Goats, Entrance, Bright Eyes, etc.
Fovea Hex is the brainchild of Clodagh Simonds, the Irish singer whose work in the early '70s with Mellow Candle earned her a solid reputation amongst avid fans of British folk music. Her recent work as Fovea Hex has found her collaborating with some serious heavyhitters in the electronic composition world including Brian Eno, Roger Eno, and Andrew M. McKenzie (aka The Hafler Trio) as well as film composer Carter Burwell. Simonds' voice is at the center of this shortened program, with many of her contributing cast singing spectral chorales around her emotionally charged siren songs which emerge as Irish folk hybrids of Marble Index period Nico. These are haunted, ancient sounding songs, with almost all of their arrangements stripped away, leaving behind spare fragments of desaturated piano, bass, and harmonium. It's no surprise that in very small type in the liner notes, there's a text that reads "all material lit from within by A.M. McKenzie," as the music itself has McKenzie's fingerprints all over it. Even the fact that this is this first part of trilogy and is an expensive short form ep of about 17 minutes is evidence of McKenzie's meddling. Nevertheless, Simonds remains steadfast in her control over the project, not allowing McKenzie to interfere with the beauty of her own voice.
Over the past couple of years, Tara Burke (aka Fursaxa) has entrenched herself as a mystical queen for the free-folk crowd, channelling the disaffected sorrow of Nico as well as the transcendent visions of 12th Century abbess Hildegard von Bingen. On her previous recordings, Burke sewed together her albums from short vignettes of narcoleptic folk songs, typically in the form of monotone lullabies in which her resonant voice radiated through stoned-and-droned acoustic guitar strum and / or farfisa arrangements. So it's very rare to finds a Fursaxa song that clocks in at anything longer than 3 minutes, which curiously is ample time for her to hypnotise her audience with her utterly compelling songs. Amulet, thus, is a bit of a detour from the collections of shortened songs as she offers four extended pieces of sprawling drones built out of delay-pedal loops. On the first couple of tracks, it's Burke's voice that takes center stage, spiralling into a hypnotic set of oscillating patterns, mossy psychedelic chants harkening back to the dark ages. She accentuates these tracks with occasional interludes for flutes and hand bells. On one of the final tracks on Amulet, Burke sets forth on a slow-motion acoustic guitar renditition of a Glenn Branca symphony, aiming for nothing more than transcendent hypnotic monotone. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!
From Indiana, USA, here's a doom metal band for those who like their doom old school, Saint Vitus style. That is, like Black Sabbath but dragged down deeper into the mire. This ostensibly five-track ep (it's longer than that, due to several hidden bonus tracks) has got all the depressive atmosphere, widdly solos, guitar effects, anguished Wino-like vocals, and sledgehammer heaviness you desire. These guys are obviously dedicated doom fans first and foremost, and like their Finnish brethren Reverend Bizarre they do their influences proud, and they make it pretty obvious who those influences are. There's a cover of "Ask No More" by Pentagram, and one of the hidden tracks is a version of St. Vitus' "War Is Our Destiny"... And if this disc turns you into a fan of The Gates Of Slumber, they've helpfully provided a bonus embroidered TGOS patch for your denim vest! We'll be wearing ours proudly.
It's been a while since Grandaddy's last full length, the excellent Sumday from 2003. Since then we've only heard a brief peep from the fellas in the form of a split 7" with The Polyphonic Spree. Well, the wait for more of their warm, lush pop experimentations is over. Although Excerpts From the Diary Of Todd Zilla is considered an EP, it's a hefty one with a total of eight songs. It's a bit of a mixed bag o' Grandaddy tunes. Among them are some of the band's best work to date ("Cinderland" -- imagine a more folksy pop incarnation of Flaming Lips or Mercury Rev) as well as a downright jarring number (the raucous "Florida"). That said, the highs by far outweigh the lows. With the exception of that sixth song, Jason Lytle and co. have offered up a pleasing follow-up to Sumday. Vinyl only for now, we're still waiting on a cd version...
Another crushing blast of grim blackness from this Polish black metal institution. Darken and his Graveland weave epic tales of Viking glory, wolves and swords, victory and bloodshed, fire and vengeance. As with many BM outifts, all of this Nordic (umm... Polish?) pride is really only one step removed from super problematic racial politics, seemingly always a part of black metal discussions, but as with Burzum and other groups of that ilk, you just have to decide if you can ignore the subtext and disregard the politics and enjoy the mesmerizingly buzzy blast of hypnotic black-drone-metal. It's hard not to, when presented with a disc as fucking amazing as this, all of stuff we loved about Graveland in the past, all honed to utter perfection, that thick layered droning black metal, is now somehow even more dense and majestic, huge slabs of guitars piled atop one another, all over thrashing relentless drumming, haunting minor key melodies buried deep beneath thick fuzzy swirls of droning riffery, but this time, there's a much bigger focus on vocals, lush swells of chant-like moans, Arvo Part like choral interludes, all add a certain gravitas, a creepy epic heaviness, that truly turns this into more than just another black metal record. It's like a black metal Godspeed You Black Emperor composing the soundtrack to Kurasawa's Ran, so epic and haunting and fucking MASSIVE, it's hard to listen to this without imagining all of the images the music is meant to project: huge black clouds of smoke drifting above burning funeral pyres, rivers running black with blood, the air dense with arrows, bloodied blades and mud caked armor, the stench of death and decay, the mysterious final trip to stand beside all of the fallen warriors from eons past. A massively epic, ultra intense, hauntingly majestic, crushing, droning black metal masterpiece.
While they last we have the super deluxe oversized hardcover book version (limited to 1000 copies), once we run out of those you'll get the regular jewel case version (which also happens to be cheaper!).
Talented Oakland guitarist/vocalist Greg Ashley's Gris Gris gang is back, with a fab sophomore album mostly recorded at a cabin in Texas belonging to Greg's parents. So it's not garage rock, it's cabin rock. Probably good that they were presumably far from any neighbors since this quite often one dang noisily feedback-filled and fuzzed-out freakfest that might have gotten the cops called -- and who knows what manner of illict substances fueled the recording sessions, with which Gris Gris wouldn't want to be busted? Maybe The Man would mellow out knowing that the noisy rave-ups co-exist on this record with plenty of catchy melody and jangly folk and relaxed droniness and other good stuff. Although "Ecks Em Eye" starts the album off with a free jazz warm-up with Funhouse saxophone, the Gris Gris' psychedelic trip soon passes through the overgrown, shadowy backyards of bands such as Pink Floyd and the early Stones ('specially on the fake raga of the title track). Ashley & Co's retro-sensibilities venture even further into total oldies territory on "Medication #4". More current artists that this sometimes reminds us of (or whose fans we think might also like this) include Mudhoney, Greg Weeks/Espers, Comets On Fire, and Devendra Banhart, a little. Definitely recommended to anyone into the psych scene today, and cabin rock of course. With songs with titles like "Big Engine Nazi Kid Daydream" and "Down With Jesus" these guys aren't ever gonna have hits, but in our little world they should!
Imagine Arvo Part if he was a punk rock woman from Oakland. Or imagine an ultra lo-fi Morton Feldman jamming with Matthew Bower of Skullflower, backed up by a ghostly choir. This is one of those records that is so perfectly aQuarius it sounds like it was composed and recorded just for us. And you. A perfect blend of warm textured ambience and thick corrosive drones, delicate melodies wrapped in a gorgeously crunchy gritty hissy production. The whole record is a ghostly shimmer, warm washes of otherworldly vibrations swirling in a thick morass of processed vocals, murky keyboards and guitars rendered so unguitarlike they more resemble warm wiggles of sound, like slinky's stretched as far as they will go, slightly vibrating, barely disturbing the air around them, small waves of sound like ripples in a pond building and building and piled atop one another until it's a massive, thick blanket of sound. Imagine the saddest slowest band you've ever heard playing at absolutely deafening volume, then imagine stuffing your ears full of cotton, and listening from behind a closed door, through a wall of mud and straw, warm wispy tendrils of sound creeping and crawling through the cracks, wrapping themselves in thick coils around your arms and legs, the whole room slowly filling with sound, until soon you're totally ensconced, submerged, surrounded by thick billows of slow shifting sound. Melodies become indistinct whispers stretched across minutes instead of seconds, guitars and keyboards become blissed out blurs, like floating weightless in a warm dark mysterious place made entirely of soft sound. Wow. Totally haunting and captivating.
When Mute reissued the Golden Hammer series by The Hafler Trio in the mid '90s as part of their Grey Area reissue campaign of industrial and post-industrial masterpieces, Mute dropped nearly 25 minutes of music from The Hafler Trio's perennially obtuse A Thirsty Fish. Nearly a decade later as Korm Plastics has been lovingly reissuing The Hafler Trio's early recordings, A Thirsty Fish now gets a proper re-release as a double disc set, with all of the material from the original 2LP presented in a remastered form. In an interview with Option magazine back in the late '80s, The Hafler Trio's Andrew McKenzie explained that the intent of A Thirsty Fish was "to confuse people until they couldn't think anymore, so they'd have to feel. It was conjuring. The idea was � and still is to a certain extent � watch this hand while the other hand goes into the pockets. The stuff that everybody sees is not actually the whole point. People can't see the whole point because it's like this covert action. But I'm still talking around it, I'm not going to put it in one easy bite-size piece because that would destroy the whole point of what I'm doing. I have a very definite intent, but if I talk about it, it will evaporate. If I put it into words, you'll just have an idea again � and then it's gone. All the stuff you see on the packaging, and the sounds in fact themselves, all that stuff Is just the fluff. The real stuff is actually going on somewhere else." Given the oblique collage techniques of electrified voices, erratically pitch-shifted tape modulations, puncturing noises, pure sine-wave generation, and decontextualized media samples, The Hafler Trio again succeeds in utter confusion.
Sorry, no MP3 samples are available for any Hafler Trio works.
What might one find on the Island Of Jocks And Jazz? You might be surprised to discover it's mostly amp buzz, and cord crackle, snare drums that sounds like someone throwing stones at a trash can lid from across a yard, vocals that sound like they were recorded from the bottom of a sheet metal pit, all that cacophany broadcast through a bank of 200 broken car speakers, recorded on a handheld cassette recorder, and then mastered to aluminum foil. WTF?!? The Hospitals make Guitar Wolf sound like the Osmonds. There are some killer riffs, some warbly organ, some almost dubby rhythms, even some hooks, but they're all barely discernible, wrapped in sonic barbed wire, lit afire and set careening down an obstacle course of empty metal trash cans, aluminum shed siding and all matter of rusty scrap metal. Ultra chaotic and wild and scuzzy screechy blown out garage rock blur. Just the thing for all of you mourning the end of SF's Coachwhips, and will probably also tickle the ruined eardrums of folks who love stuff like the Country Teasers, The Fall, Black-Eyed Snakes, Liquor Ball, Guitar Wolf and any of that acid fried, amp melting speaker blowing garage trash-n-roll!
Most genre labels end up being so annoying and wrong. IDM for example - when did Oval really make you dance. Hot Chip would never be labeled IDM but taken for its literal meaning they are totally intelligent dance music. With elements similar to last years great record from The Junior Boys, Hot Chip have made a record that will shake your ass and somehow soothe you at the sem time. Songs that reference Stevie Wonder, Ween and Yo La Tengo, but with a vocal aesthetic that brings to mind more recent Damon Albarn outings. There are those occasional moments when they walk the cheese line (saxophone) but those moments luckily don't last too long. Utilizing elements of hip-hop production and a smart-ass pop sensibility Hot Chip are both dorky and sincere. Electronic and pop. Smart and catchy.
Not one to rest on his rump, Mr. Neil Michael Hagerty (yeah, y'know him... ex of Pussy Galore and Royal Trux) delivers a second Howling Hex album in 2005! You Can't Beat Tomorrow picks up right where All-Night Fox left off back in February in its all-out freewheelin' strangeness. Aha, a pattern? One was released a month from the beginning of the year and the other one released a month from the year's end with a dvd. Are we scrutinizing trivialities? Makin' a mountain outta a molehill? 'Kay, we'll just move along to the music then, shall we? First things first, if you dug All-Night Fox, this ain't anything like that. Perhaps, it's the influence of his You Can't Beat Tomorrow backing band o' Texans, the very rootsy Theater Fire? Perhaps, it's just a result of Hagerty tryin' another 'something new' as he is wont to do. Unfortunately, he ditched the female vocals that made All-Night Fox so right-on, but if you're a Hagerty fan you'll find plenty to love in his newest rough-hewn eccentricity-laden path. Still bluesy, still rockin', but with more of a moonshine-drenched swampy hillbilly feel. Hmmm, it almost veers into quirksome Quintron or Ween (circa Pure Guava) cheezy territory with its weeny electric guitar lines, rudimentary drumming, funky basslines, woozied-up horns and murky vocals.
The dvd features The Howling Variety Show by noneother than Neil Michael Hagerty. It's a just-over-half-an-hour, haphazard and decidedly lo-fi program of music, animation and sketches (!), and is apparently a pilot episode... so there very well might be more where that came from.
Far be for us to tell you what to do, but we'd strongly suggest lightin' up a big fatty prior to hitting 'play'. With or without 'refreshments', it's an all-around entertaining hoot!
We recently listed the double cd reissue of Interpol's Antics, with an extra disc of remixes. For those of you who really wanted the remixes but didn't want to have to buy the whole dang thing over again, here you go. Four tracks, just the remixes: "Song Seven", "Narc (Paul Banks Remix)", "Not Even Jail (Daniel Kessler Remix)", "Fog Vs. Mould For The Length Of Love", "Public Pervert (Carlos D Remix)".
This is the second release from the enigmatically titled duo Isolde, made up of AQ faves Andrew Chalk and Robin Barnes. Fans of Chalk and his work in Ora and Mirror will find much to love here. Two brief transmissions of chiming reverb drenched guitar, shimmering steel string buzz smoothed out into streaks of silver and grey, strange woodblock percussion scattered throughout like stones tossed into a tranquil pond. Hovering, haunting, reverberating, melodic fragments, tinkling plinks amidst an abstract swirl of ominous glimmers and muted glints of metallic resonance. So nice. Comes in miniature 3" jewel case, with gorgeous hand made inserts, and signed by both Barnes and Chalk. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES and we only got a handful!
- MPEG stream: One
- MPEG stream: Two
The world of 'dreamy electronica' has been polluted by those better aimed at selling you a Volvo then actually taking you to a different state of being, but thankfully there are still talented and lucid minds like Jan Jelinek who actually does create music that makes your mind wander and washes away your moment in time. The sound is much warmer and organic sounding then the super click n' cut sounding Loop-finding-jazz-records he released a few years back. This time Jelinek seems to be going beyond creating an amazing surface sound (referred to as wallpaper in an earlier AQ review) and has created an album that actually seeps through walls and time and space and slowly melts into your ears. Highly Recommended!
When you think Chewy, do you think about taffy, or gum, or calamari? Or do those nerd genes kick in and send you in a completely different direction envisioning a seven foot tall hairy beast called Chewbacca? Well, if you live in SF, when you think Chewy, you more than likely think metal, and maybe country, oh and punk rock, and glam rock, or at the very least you think of the kick ass drumming of Mr. Chewy Marzolo. Most of you would know Chewy as the drummer for the mighty Hammers Of Misfortune, SF's killer black / true / opera metal kings! But Chewy has been tearing up a storm here in SF for well over a decade (most of the time with Hammers Of Misfortune head honcho John Cobbett right there by his side). Recently, Chewy celebrated his birthday by playing a show, where almost ALL of his bands played, in a row! Phew. To commemorate the occasion, there was this little two disc 'best of Chewy' set, covering all of his musical exploits over the last 15 years. From the majestic metal opera that is Hammers Of Misfortune, to the thrashy metal of Bay Area legends Osgood Slaughter, to the bizarre, epic sci-fi metal of Thunderchimp, to the sleazy glam rock of Pantz Noyzee, to the wild bluegrass of The Big Meat Combo, to the desert-y twang of King City. Tons of never before released stuff, most of it really amazing. Whether you know Chewy or not, these two discs are jam packed with some amazing music, from metal to country, silly to serious, and everywhere in between.
No doubt one of the best mc's hip-hop has to offer. His first two albums stand right up their as two of the finest hip-hop records of this decade. While his last release seemed to be a bit of a slip and reached for more commercial success Right About Now finds Kweli back to basics and what he does best. While filler and unfunny skits seem to haunt so many hip hop albums, Kweli keeps keen focus throughout the entire record. With the help of friends like Mos Def and MF Doom he's put together a super solid mix of songs that will remind you of why you fell in love with him in the first place.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
BACK IN STOCK (but not back in print, yet... No Quarter got a return from overseas and we snatched 'em all up)
We have been championing this band since the very first time we heard their mighty 'Strange Warmings' debut years ago but continually faced the problem of all three of their releases being practically impossible to get. And my (Andee's) only possible complaint about this comprehensive career retrospective collection is that I WANTED TO PUT IT OUT ON tUMULt!!!! Arrrrgghhh. But kudos to AQ pal Mike who runs the mighty No Quarter label, for his amazing taste (Earth, Pharoah Overlord and now LB!) and ability to unearth/rerelease these out of print gems.
Laddio Bolocko were absolutely one of the most amazing bands we have ever heard, taking the bloated corpse of 'post rock' and filling it with squirming, ultra complex, super dynamic kraut rock and out rock and...uhhhh trout (mask replica) rock? Or whatever. Imagine a modern day This Heat, but with bigger amps, more lo-fi production, free-jazz scud missle saxophone, unlikely melodies, relentless rhythms, ear-ringing dynamics and a sound unlike anything you've ever heard. Sounds good huh? Well, it is. In fact. as far as I'm concerned LB were probably one of the most important and most original rock bands of the last 20 years. High praise indeed, but once you hear this stuff you'll be hard pressed to argue.
The Life & Times Of collects all three Laddio Bollocko releases, their devastating debut 'Strange Warmings Of' and the two follow up eps, 'In Real Time' and 'As If By Remote'. Also included is a video playable on your computer (which, along with the nice digipak packaging, may even tempt those lucky enough to already have Laddio's hard to find releases).
Disc one is 'Strange Warmings Of', a pummelling and heavy drone rock masterpiece, in which an ex-Dazzling Killmen (Blake Fleming) takes his penchant for angular discordance a step further, forgoing the ferocious heaviosity of his former outfit, and instead, explores lengthy semi-improvisational psychedelic freakouts and repetetive hypno-krautrock instrumentals ala AQ faves Circle. Post rock jamscapes littered with shrieking and droning Albert Ayler-ish sax, jabs of no wave guitar, an overwhelming over-saturated super-distorted production and absolutely crushing drumming. Anyone into Circle or This Heat or Acid Mothers Temple or Faust or any or any of that, will be completely blown away.
Disc two contains the two later eps find Laddio Bolocko in a new space with a new sound. Showing an amazing amount of growth, LB have all but completely abandoned the bludgeoning, pounding shrieking bombast, and instead stretch out, and explore rhythms and textures, creating lengthy krautrock jams, and hypnotic drones. And their noisey, in your face, live recording has been replaced by what sounds like a serious exploration of the studio as instrument, with at least half the record full of innovative production and gorgeous textures. Also, the sax, which on 'Strange Warmings', was more textural and not immediately identifiable as a saxophone, is more of a presence here, giving it more of a sort-of-jazz feel on several tracks. This later, less ROOOOOOOAAAAARRRR sort of sound puts them even more comfortably in the sonic realm occupied by Faust, This Heat and Circle.
What we innitially took to be a fantastic drone record, is indeed that, but actually becomes something entirely different about halfway through. Lamp Of The Universe is the work of New Zealander Craig Williamson, and is indeed a truly gorgeous drone bliss outift. Extended wide open expanses of buzzing sitars, swooning sythns, simple layered drones, minimal tabla rhythms, very soothing and raga like, slowly swirling soundscapes, dreamily druggy and sleepily spaced out. So lovely. And trust us, that would definitely be enough to get us to set the cd player on repeat and just drift off, but the last 25 minutes, while still being blissful and serene, introduce drums, which changes the whole vibe. Those last three tracks are dark and meandering, a lazily propulsive post rock / krautrock hybrid, druggy and spacey and jammy, with affected guitar noodling over simple shuffling drumming and groovy minimal basslines. Pink Floyd, Band Of Gypsies, Hawkwind, a very very very mellow Acid Mothers Temple, eventually winding down and returning for a brief buzzy free drone coda.
Packaged in beautiful hand glued digipaks. VERY LIMITED. Once we run out, we're not sure we'll be able to get more.
As Brocade begins you are immediately greeted with a repetitious krautrock line reminiscent of both Neu! and Can. From the immediacy of that sweeping hook, they take themselves into sounds that begin to start moving through the sky. Like an instrumental early 4AD record you always imagined in your head.ÔTheir ability to slow down and change time creates a space where you can wander with intensity. They let you look at that one thing for so long and with so much devotion you begin to start seeing the bigger picture just by the magnification of one sound, one idea, one deep focus.ÔLanding want to see how close they can get to the sky -- they feel wind shake them -- sun blast them -- air refresh them. Highly recommended!
Before the Libretto is like some sort of neo-futuristic pseudo-Pagan ritual in which these four women from four countries (Elaine Radigue (France), Kaffe Matthews (UK), Ryoko Kuwajima (Japan), and AGF (Germany) hold hands (or connect laptops) and invoke the forces of nature....but instead of the earth and wind and sea answering the call, a bunch of little aliens show up and start dancing a jig. No one knows what the hell is going on, but it's pretty awesome all the same. Part operatic play, part experimental poetry, glistening, organic, feminine, and weird. Ryoko Kuwajima sounds a bit like Tujiko Noriko....wafting in and out with spoken bits and scraps of private song. Whenever it strikes her fancy, while the others weave a playful prickly and peculiar musical bed for all of the strange vocalisations. Very hard to describe what's going on, totally alien sounding but at the same time, so inviting you just want to touch and fold and feel and try to figure out what the heck is going on. The sounds are gentle, but not soft, crunchy, but not hard, like diving into a swiming pool full of autumn leaves, then running through the forest naked. The separate parts sound a little like puzzle pieces forced into the wrong places, a curious hodgepodge of ill fitting pieces, but together thay have some strange poetry, it's what makes this all sound so charming. The parts and pieces and sonic fragments don't mesh, but somehow....that's what makes it work. The cover is quite striking as well, a creepy fleshy tongue flower that inspires lot of "hmms" and "eeews" from customers when it's in the 'Now Playing' slot on our counter. Highly recommended, a curious and curiously appealing record.
Wow! To be able to make music that is both charming and soulful is a feat few can meet. This collective from Bogota, Columbia have done just that. Crafting really colorful minimalist pop that totally hits its mark. Eighteen short 4-track recorded songs that all feel like tiny treasures you want to keep in your pocket for good luck. Their ability to keep intact the most satisfying elements of primitive song writing while allowing themselves to explore all kinds of different sounds and styles. Think tropicalia meets The Residents meets Young Marble Giants meets a Smithsonian Folkways record of the future. Excellent!
This Bay Area band follows up their 6-song debut with another fine cdep. Considerably less boyish pop and less space-psych than last time, and more manly rock. On this Odyssey they've opted for a bigger slicker arena rock trajectory that brings to mind shades of U2. Onwards and upwards, lads!
Brian McBride is one half of AQ faves Stars Of The Lid, a group who specialized in somnambulent moonlit guitarscapes, dark and gorgeously lugubrious, and who more recently have begun to explore more lush and epic musical vistas. Some of our favorite late night dreamy drones have come from those Stars, so it's no surprise that McBride's first proper solo outing is just as mysterious and compelling. A lush series of swoonsome smears, warm chordal swells stretched into slow burning minor key sagas, minor key but still strangely hopeful sounding, sun dappled with the first rays of morning light after an endless night of darkness and despair. Each piece on When The Detail Lost Its Freedom is delicately assembled from minimal violins, gentle piano, moaning trumpets, haunting western guitar, drifting disembodied vocals, and warm reverb, all swirled into indistinct shapes, like opening your eyes first thing in the morning, a hazy blurry dreamlike world, so serene and peaceful. At times, it almost sounds like the most minimal of post rock, but slowed down to a drumless crawl, the occasional vocals definitely remind us of Low, a darkly romantic slowcore, but wherever McBride takes these songs, we're never far from slipping back into a doleful drift of melancholy moods and slow shifting shimmers. It's sort of like staring into a thick cloudy swirl of sound, dense and drifting, with the occasional melody or voice slowly emerging and taking shape before flickering and fading out, dissolving into the swells of surrounding sound. So lovely.
Mi was a model from Finland working in France when he met L'au. The two fell in love and started making music together. L'au has the kind of sweet delicate voice that hits you immediately when you hear it. Together they make delicate and gentle sounds perfect for those cold nights when all you want to do is lay inside and cuddle with someone you care about. Kind of like the more gentle side of Nico. Devendra Banhart wrote his song "Gentle Soul" for Mi, and after listening to this record you can tell this is the work of two very gentle and in love souls.
Glory be! We've got not one but TWO new albums from Miminokoto, who you may already know as one of the new wave of Japanese psych trios (along with LSD-march and Up-Tight also) making the rounds of late. Miminokoto currently consist of singer/guitarist Masami Kawaguchi (LSD-march, Broomdusters, Aihiyo), drummer Koji Shimura (White Heaven, High Rise) and bassist Hiroaki Takeuchi. How does this particular unit stand apart from their peers? Well, although quite capable of building up into big, burning, fuzzed-out guitar clangor (and when they do, they get just as gnarly as the rest), they have a mellow side to 'em, one that's very melancholic and emotional, that they explore in perhaps greater depth and duration than those other bands tend to do. With weary vocals of which maybe even Jandek would be proud, Miminikoto can create a sense of sadness which makes Kawaguchi's howling guitar, when it kicks in, all that much more cathartic. They also aren't afraid of some poppy jangle too, so you're never sure what's around the corner. From track to track, one cut might be a punked out stormer, the next a gentle web of fragile notes.
Of these two new releases, one's an import studio recording, and the other's a domestically released live album (though this sort of stuff always seems live). There's five magnificently meandering and oft harrowing new tunes on the Alchemy disc Green Mansions, while the live disc on LVD, Orange Garage (named for the venue where these void-vibes were conjured), features new n' heavier versions of three previously recorded Miminokoto tracks plus three other totally new compositions, culminating in the 16+ minute "Kumononaka". Can't really pick between 'em, either or both should be of interest to any Japanese psych-scene follower...
Glory be! We've got not one but TWO new albums from Miminokoto, who you may already know as one of the new wave of Japanese psych trios (along with LSD-march and Up-Tight also) making the rounds of late. Miminokoto currently consist of singer/guitarist Masami Kawaguchi (LSD-march, Broomdusters, Aihiyo), drummer Koji Shimura (White Heaven, High Rise) and bassist Hiroaki Takeuchi. How does this particular unit stand apart from their peers? Well, although quite capable of building up into big, burning, fuzzed-out guitar clangor (and when they do, they get just as gnarly as the rest), they have a mellow side to 'em, one that's very melancholic and emotional, that they explore in perhaps greater depth and duration than those other bands tend to do. With weary vocals of which maybe even Jandek would be proud, Miminikoto can create a sense of sadness which makes Kawaguchi's howling guitar, when it kicks in, all that much more cathartic. They also aren't afraid of some poppy jangle too, so you're never sure what's around the corner. From track to track, one cut might be a punked out stormer, the next a gentle web of fragile notes.
Of these two new releases, one's an import studio recording, and the other's a domestically released live album (though this sort of stuff always seems live). There's five magnificently meandering and oft harrowing new tunes on the Alchemy disc Green Mansions, while the live disc on LVD, Orange Garage (named for the venue where these void-vibes were conjured), features new n' heavier versions of three previously recorded Miminokoto tracks plus three other totally new compositions, culminating in the 16+ minute "Kumononaka". Can't really pick between 'em, either or both should be of interest to any Japanese psych-scene follower...
Except in unabashedly biased reviews from this store, Christoph Heeman continues to get the bulk of the credit for the successes of Mirror; but again, we must reiterate that Mirror is a collaboration with Andrew Chalk. His sustained bowing drones have previously been heard in his work with Jonathan Coleclough on Sumac, some of the more tranquil compositions by Organum, and a few hard-to-find solo albums; and his aesthetic of a whispered minimalism that has the ability to stop time is front and center on Still Valley, even though occasional Mirror-man Jim O'Rourke contributes to this LP only release. There's actually very little to talk about, as backwards masked drones (from what may be long-stringed instruments, bowed cymbals, or even just guitars) linger along the horizon like a mirage, flickering with a formless consistency. Absolutely gorgeous.
Mouse on Mars would definitely not be at the top of my list for a group that needed a live album, not because they aren't great live [they are!], but because it just seems like a band where most of the magic happens behind laptop screens wouldn't translate especially well from computer to live venue to cd. And indeed, many of the intricacies are lost here. However, Live 04, has more energy than a lot of their studio releases, thanks to their live percussionist, Dodo Nkishi, and partially because of the intermittent cheers of the crowd. Tracks are from several live shows throughout MoM's 2004 tours.
The last time we heard from Mrtyu, was a cd on Campbell Kneale's experimental metal label Battlecruiser. It was quite the heavy and noisy affair, a head on collision between Skullflower / Total style free skree and throbbing sludgy dirgey doom. And obviously we loved it. Only later did we discover that Mrtyu was none other than Mr. Antony Milton, infamous NZ noisenik and head honcho of the PseudoArcana cd-r label. This is the first full length from Milton and his Mrtyu, and if anything, the sound of Mrtyu has gotten more metal, or at the very least more HEAVY, but without sacrificing the drone element. The first track still channels a bit of Sunroof!, a bit of Angus Maclise, a lush shimmering drone, with peals of feedback and throbbing smears of downtuned guitar, all tangled into a gorgeously static thrum. The second track though finds Mrtyu cloaked in black and playing a much blacker music than before, crumbling, ultra distorted guitars, so down tuned and blown out it sounds like some sort of tectonic event, the guitars form the framework for a truly oppressive atmosphere, a swirl of black clouds and Butthole Surfers-esque feedback, while atop it all, a demonic voice intones and howls and squeals like a rusted hinge. Think Khanate meets Abruptum, but filtered through than NZ noize aesthetic. The rest of the disc is follows a similar path, a howling hellish musical journey through the fires of hell, trudging across pits of black pitch, being dragged bloody and screaming through dark demon infested forests. So harsh and beautifully bilious, drones become dirges, dirges become drones, everything cloaked in black and swathed in buzz.
