More chaotic murky Markers mayhem. A live blast of free psych splatter, a stumbling druggy mess of random drum plod, shrieking squealing guitars, sung/spoken female vocals all whipped up into a skull splitting art punk free rock noise crunch.
Packaged in gorgeous hand screened, hand colored sleeves, comes with a druggy trippy Magick Markers coloring book, weird and wacked for sure.
Pressed on pretty purple swirled vinyl, limited to 500 copies and each hand numbered.
FINNISH INSTRUMENTAL CINEMATIC EPIC PROGROCK ALERT!!!
Okay, now that we've got your attention. When Andee was in Finland a few years back, Jussi from Circle took him to a tiny club to see a friend's band play, and the band totally destroyed, they were so epic, so massive, it was like seeing Godspeed! You Black Emperor play in a broom closet. Huge glowing swells of sound, totally memorable melodies, gorgeous arrangements, all swirled into majestic sweeping soaring emotional epics. Even back then, before the band even had a record out. Not soon after, they did in fact release a record, and we were immediately in love. The band was Magyar Posse, and that first record totally captured the majestic might of the band, while at the same time adding all sorts of sonic subtleties and even more dense layers of sound. A second record followed and somehow the band managed to sound even bigger and better. We had been hearing about a brand new record for a while, and were thrilled when a big box showed up a few days ago from Finland and inside was Random Avenger, the newest release from Magyar Posse. We were almost ready to be disappointed considering how much we dug those other records, or at least preparing ourselves to just be happy for more of the same, but if anything, the band have expanded their sound even further, coming up with epic soundscapes even more intense and epic and emotional than before.
This record, even more than the others, sounds like it just has to be a real soundtrack. Pop music is not meant to be so dense and rife with emotion, painting pictures with wordless music as vibrant as if there were in fact lyrics telling a story. The sound is very prog, intensely cinematic and while it is dark and dreamy it can also be strangely playful. Some moments, we're transported to some lost Bond film, others we find ourselves in some dusty Leone Western, while still others we're lost on some moonlit street running for our lives in a mysterious Italian giallo. The first track, "Whirlpool Of Terror And Tension" is a lush and dense, multilayered world of sound, with a strange sort of Bolero staccato rhythm, with strange scrabbly guitars, abstract sixties style female vocals, minor key guitar twangs, chimes and bells, keening guitars feedback, and simple propulsive drumming. The main riff is very Morricone, but is backed up by a thick wash of soaring strings and gorgeous glockenspiel, it's almost impossible not to close your eyes and see a cool sixties Mondrian style credit sequence for some Danger Diabolik style caper movie. That vibe definitely permeates the whole record, but each track definitely has it's own feel and distinct emotion. A handful of the tracks take Magyar's progressive post-rock into definite Goblin / Zombi territory with minor key strings, relentless rhythms, pulsing drums and new wave synths locked into angular krautrock grooves, while spacey sound effects swoop and swirl, strings soar and sing, and again we're just transported to whole new worlds, but worlds with totally kick ass soundtracks!
This is definitely still post-rock, and thus will appeal to fans of Tortoise and Godspeed and Cerberus Shoal and Cyann & Ben and Explosions In The Sky and the like but Magyar Posse have something totally their own going on. A unique sonic vision, an alternate musical universe, where a pair of headphones and a walkman transform you into a super spy or a wily seductress or a hired killer, and turns your boring neighborhood into 1960's Paris, or a dusty ghost town or a secret base in the Arctic. This is music as dense and as rich and as much of an escape as any book or any film could ever be, and music that can have such an incredible effect on the listener, is way too rare. And so very precious.
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!!
Although they didn't start out that way, for this album, the musical entity that goes by the name Mar has become a mini super group of glistening glacial proportions. Its central figure is one Mr. Kyle Reidy originally from Arkansas, but its guest membership here includes Jimmy Lavalle of The Album Leaf and Mum's Samuli Kosminen. Recorded at Syrland Studios in Iceland (that would be Sigur Ros' studio!), The Silence is a drowsy drifting affair with whispery male vocals that not unsurprisingly nestles in perfectly with the Lavalle and Kosminen's main projects. Reidy mines the aching emotional depths with such a delicate touch countered with a grand regality that has become the trademark of Icelandic bands -- articulating both the monumental and the minute, the mighty and the frail in single sweeping elegant gestures. Guess it goes without saying that we'd highly recommend this to fans of Mum and The Album Leaf (and probably Sigur Ros too)... and/or folks who like their music to seek out the heartstrings in a most shimmery fashion. Lovely!
The name Lubomyr Melnyk is most likely not familiar to you. It definitely wasn't to us. Until a customer suggested we check out this unique piano player. He told us he thought it sounded like playing three Terry Riley records at the same time, which sounded pretty darn good. And we were not disappointed. It was everything we hoped it would be and more. We got a disc called Wave-Lox in, and we have been unable to keep it in stock, a swirling flurry of impossibly fast notes, a billowy cloud of piano ambience. How about a quick recap on the illustrious Mr. Melnyk:
In the early 70's Melnyk developed a unique approach to the piano called Continuous Music, a physical and mental technique that allowed Melnyk to play an incredible amount of notes at an incredible speed. In fact he holds two world records, one as the fastest pianist in the world, sustaining speeds of over 19.5 notes per second in each hand, simultaneously! And two, for the most number of notes played in one hour! In 60 minutes, Melnyk sustained an average speed of over 13 notes per second in each hand, yielding a total of 93,650 INDIVIDUAL notes.
That's right. World's fastest pianist. But Melnyk uses his powers for good. This is not wanky showboating, or Yngwie style pointless shredding, no this speed is necessary to realize his music, dense swirls of hundreds and hundreds of notes, whirling and swirling, overtones shifting and tonal color slowly changing. It's like looking at a pointilist painting close up, or sitting two inches from the television, colored dots, streaks of light, weaving in and around and all about each other, creating almost dronelike ambience, that seems almost static from a distance, but up close, it's made up of millions of tiny flitting parts and pieces. See the review for Wave-Lox elsewhere on the site for more about Melnyk and Continuous Music, because while The Song Of Galadrial employs similar technique, the results are a bit different.
It's hard to know what to say about this piece. On first listen it is much more traditionally classical sounding than Melnyk's other works, but according to the liner notes it is "one of the composer's most deeply personal and melodic works so far", and one can almost hear that in the music. Much darker, with much more attention paid to the lower registers, giving the piece a dark and ominous feel. The low end rumbles and sustains creating a warm dark drone above which little squalls of tinkling melodies swirl and soar. The main melody is quite subtle, being that it is created by hundreds of notes together, a lot like looking at a picture too close, so all you see are dots and lines, but as you step back, a picture begins to take shape. This is indeed lovely, and mournful and rich with emotion, while Melnyk's other pieces are more abstract and serve more as abstract and meditative, Galadrial definitely seems to have a narrative, and listening from start to finish, one definitely feels like a story was told, life and love and loss and hope and death and forgiveness all somehow represented in tiny little piano pixels. So totally fantastic.
It has been ages since we have been so blown away by a new discovery, and not just a new performer but a new way of performing. And for those of you who are especially moved by this music, you can write to Melnyk and purchase a course that will train you to be able to play Continuous Music. But be warned, Continuous Music requires serious discipline, in fact Melnyk, when he first started out, was unable to perform the pieces he composed, and only after years of strict discipline, including extra training, both physical and mental, in the form of martial techniques like Tai Chi, was he finally able to play the music the way he intended it to be played. SO AWESOME!!
These are professionally printed cd-r's with full color covers and extensive liner notes, they are bit more expensive than most cd-r's we carry because instead of mass producing one or two titles, Melnyk wanted to make available all of the pieces he has been working on for the last 20 years. Thus each disc is pressed in a super limited run, but what that also means is that there are 50 or more different pieces to choose from, all of them utterly amazing.
The name Lubomyr Melnyk is most likely not familiar to you. It definitely wasn't to us. Until a customer suggested we check out this unique piano player. He told us he thought it sounded like playing three Terry Riley records at the same time, which sounded pretty darn good. And we were not disappointed. It was everything we hoped it would be and more. We got a disc called Wave-Lox in, and we have been unable to keep it in stock, a swirling flurry of impossibly fast notes, a billowy cloud of piano ambience. How about a quick recap on the illustrious Mr. Melnyk:
In the early 70's Melnyk developed a unique approach to the piano called Continuous Music, a physical and mental technique that allowed Melnyk to play an incredible amount of notes at an incredible speed. In fact he holds two world records, one as the fastest pianist in the world, sustaining speeds of over 19.5 notes per second in each hand, simultaneously! And two, for the most number of notes played in one hour! In 60 minutes, Melnyk sustained an average speed of over 13 notes per second in each hand, yielding a total of 93,650 INDIVIDUAL notes.
That's right. World's fastest pianist. But Melnyk uses his powers for good. This is not wanky showboating, or Yngwie style pointless shredding, no this speed is necessary to realize his music, dense swirls of hundreds and hundreds of notes, whirling and swirling, overtones shifting and tonal color slowly changing. It's like looking at a pointilist painting close up, or sitting two inches from the television, colored dots, streaks of light, weaving in and around and all about each other, creating almost dronelike ambience, that seems almost static from a distance, but up close, it's made up of millions of tiny flitting parts and pieces. See the review for Wave-Lox elsewhere on the site, because while The Voice Of Trees employs similar technique, the results are quite different.
The Voice Of Trees is a piece for 3 tubas and 2 pianos, composed and performed to accompany a dance performance by the Kilina Cremona Dance Company. In the liner notes it states that since NO other piano player has the skill to play Melnyk's compositions, he had to pretape on of the piano parts and play the other live. And this is a live recording, so if you listen very closely you can sometimes hear the feet of the dancers. This piece also holds the distinction of being composed partially in "Geometric Form" a type of musical composition invented by Melnyk (after the works of Russian philosopher Ouspensky) where musical events are dictated by mathematics, geometry and the Fourth Dimension (!?). Woah! But fear not, you don't need a physics degree to sit back, close your eyes and let this loveliness carry you right off.
The focus is still Melnyk's Continuous Music, a flurry of notes like leaves carried on the wind, but it's the tuba that adds an unlikely slant to the proceedings. By themselves, the two pianos are a hypnotic drone, dense and slowly moving and constantly shifting, totally lovely. But the tuba adds structure, and its low mournful melodies add a certain morose quality to the piece, and make it sound classical and more like some abstract epic post-rock, played on piano and tuba. Sound weird, and it is, but it's also so gorgeous, and so intense. The piano is dizzying, the listener sort of drifts back and forth from letting the notes blend together into a swoonsome whole, and seeing every note, trying to make sense of the thousands of notes, trying to understand the patterns and the composition. And that's where the tubas come in, allowing the pianos to act as a lush backdrop, while the tubas moan and croon their lonesome melodies. Amazing.
It has been ages since we have been so blown away by a new discovery, and not just a new performer but a new way of performing. And for those of you who are especially moved by this music, you can write to Melnyk and purchase a course that will train you to be able to play Continuous Music. But be warned, Continuous Music requires serious discipline, in fact Melnyk, when he first started out, was unable to perform the pieces he composed, and only after years of strict discipline, including extra training, both physical and mental, in the form of martial techniques like Tai Chi, was he finally able to play the music the way he intended it to be played. SO AWESOME!!
These are professionally printed cd-r's with full color covers and extensive liner notes, they are bit more expensive than most cd-r's we carry because instead of mass producing one or two titles, Melnyk wanted to make available all of the pieces he has been working on for the last 20 years. Thus each disc is pressed in a super limited run, but what that also means is that there are 50 or more different pieces to choose from, all of them utterly amazing.
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Metallic Falcons is the collaborative project of Cocorosie's Bianca Cassidy and Voodoo-Eros label boss Matteh Baim. Their debut is a bewildering yet utterly beguiling amalgam of neo-folk's earthen weavings, rock's electricity, cathedral-reverbed choral vocals and some as yet unpinpointables. At times Desert Doughnuts is quite reminiscent of reverential to Jarboe-era Swans in its broken beauty and spiralling dark dreams. However there's much more that rings familiar here than that aspect. Could it be the additional contributing efforts from the likes of Antony, Jana Hunter and Devendra Banhart? Why yes, it definitely could! Together they've crafted a most hauntingly beautiful patchwork tapestry that -- dare we say? -- on a few passages surpasses the individuals' solo missions.
Hooky -and- haphazard, and nicely lo-fi, yes it's another batch of early '80s UK DIY goodness, rescued from oblivion by Hyped To Death's Messthetics series! Leicester's Midnight Circus, who considered The Instant Automatons (reviewed last list) their mentors in the whole DIY cassette culture art punk thing, appeared on one collectable vinyl comp (Angst In My Pants) as well as on many many self-released cassette-albums with titles like Pre-Natal Counseling, The Bland Craze, Galvanizing The Dead, and Do Modern Atoms Wear Fashionable Clothes.
As per general Messthetics standards, they weren't terribly musically accomplished, but they -were- creative and fueled by much post-adolescent angst... Perhaps the Arctic Monkeys would have wound up like The Midnight Circus if they grew up 30 years earlier. Expect their Gang-Of-Four-ish guitars to be accompanied by beer can percussion (or crudely amplified metronome, or at best a cheap drum machine), that sort of thing, which of course we totally dig.
This is a "best of" of sorts, compiling tracks from that comp, their cassettes, and previously unreleased recordings as well circa 1980-83 and it includes scads of liner notes and cool black-and-white graphics in the 10-page cd booklet, as you should expect from these very thorough, labor-of-love Hyped To Death productions.
What the world needs now is... more BATHTUB SHITTER!!! And what the world needs, our shit obsessed grindmetal pals from the East are here to provide. Two brand new blasts of grinding freaked out, spazzy and shrieking grind metal, occupying some impossible musical space between Brutal Truth, the Boredoms, Cannibal Corpse, skate thrash and eighties hardcore. So weird and so fucking awesome!!! We kind of want to figure out a way to fly the guys in Bathtub Shitter to the US so they could be the AQ house band, blasting and bleating dissonant serenades to our customers 24 hours a day. Okay, maybe not, but we still love 'em!
The 'Shitter are teamed up here with Maryland's own grindmetal destruction crew Misery Index, who unleash one track of downtuned grinding nirvana as well as a blown out blast that is a Napalm Death cover.
Comes packaged in a super swank gatefold 7" sleeve, with BS's side a haunting airbrushed watercolor batwinged, horn headed child demon flipping us the ubiquitous peace sign hand gesture (although his hands sport huge demonic talons!). Cool!
Ultra intense, precision electric guitar / drums / electronics improv from this noisy Norwegian duo, appropriately recorded at some place called "Athletic Sound". The exclamation point that's part of their name is also quite apt!
This is crazed stuff, on the jazz side perhaps owing something to pioneer skronk guitarists like Sharrock and Takayanagi, but sounding not so much like jazz, or even guitar (it sounds more like a malfunctioning raygun). All this abstract glitchy distortion, processed percussion, and scrabbling, shredding skree really reminds us a lot of the likes of Phantomsmasher or (especially) Mick Barr's Orthrelm. Or maybe their countrymen Supersilent having a violent seizure? To some, this is will be utter earhole punishment, but we also know a lot of you will love it!
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Mojave 3 goes bubblegum? Well not exactly, but kind of. This is for sure the brightest, most upbeat, fun in the sun record Neil Halstead and co. have ever made. Initially we were a bit boggled by this turn of events -- it's such a disarming contrast to his past Mojave 3 and Slowdive recordings -- but we've found Puzzles' perky charms pretty hard to resist. Whereas 2003's dreamily hushed Spoon And Rafter was an absolutely perfect album for staying inside, sitting by the window on a drizzly day with a hot cup of cocoa, Puzzles Like You beckons you to frolick in the flowerbed.
"It's A Satanic Drug Thing ...You Wouldn't Understand". Monster Magnet's motto, emblazoned on the back of the cd booklet, is something that they really did live up to, sonically and otherwise, back in the day. Maybe not the healthiest lifestyle choice (frontman Dave Wyndorf actually almost died recently from, yes, a drug overdose), but it sums up Monster Magnet, musically speaking. If you want to hear some "stoner rock" that's both spacier and scarier and Stoogier than most, early Monster Magnet (before they got big) is the way to go.
We reviewed their droniest bad trip masterpiece, the reissued 25...Tab ep a couple lists back, and now follow-up with a review of another favorite, their debut full-length entitled Spine Of God, originally released by Caroline in 1992 and now reissued by SPV with snazzier graphics and bonus track (a demo version of "Ozium").
This came out at the height of the grunge era, but sounds just as Stonehenge (a la Hawkwind) as it does Seattle (a la Mudhoney). It includes their Grand Funk cover, "Sin's A Good Man's Brother", alongside such downer, druggy hits from some parallel just-say-yes universe as "Pill Shovel", "Nod Scene", and "Zodiac Lung". A wasted, burn-out classic, laid-back and leaden, dazed and phased.
An unlikely freerock avantnoise match up that works a whole lot better than it should. It's hard to tell if each band got a side, or if they are collaborating on together the whole way through, hardly matters really, as both sides are pretty dang great. Recorded live in 2004, this collaboration definitely brings out the softer side in Mouthus, the whole thing is dreamy and droney, the two exploring some dark drifting ambient exploration. One side is a slow builder, gradually growing in intensity as the soft swirl grows into a near static raga, a wall of warm buzz, while the other side is much more guitar heavy, a huge soundscape of rumbling riffage and soaring high end shimmer.
Packaged in a super striking yellow and white collages sleeve, with a full color insert.
LIMITED TO 550 COPIES!!!!!
A brief little blast of incendiary grunge godhead from AQ faves Mudhoney. We raved about their recent full length, Under A Billion Suns, and this here is a single from that disc. The totally killer "It Is Us" is the A side, but the B side is worth $4 all by its lonesome. Hard to believe they chose to leave "Dig Those Trenches" off the album. Quite possibly the best Mudhoney track in forever. Murky swampy bluesy scuzzrock stomp, an absolutely monster riff and the best Mark Arm vocals in years, his whiskey soaked yelp/growl is on fire here. It almost sounds like vintage Green River which is a VERY good thing. There's even a cool creepy sixties spy thriller horn section that gets snuck in here and there. Awesome!
We have a friend who has become so obsessed with the work of Nadja and its mainman Aidan Baker, that he spends way more time than is healthy trolling the internet looking of long lost 7"s and rare out of print cd-r's. It's easy to see why though. Baker's sonic explorations are as mesmerizing as they are ominous. A truly unique musical voice in a suddenly way too crowded microniche. Call it doom. Or drone. Or dirge. Or better yet deathdoomdronedirge. It's a sound we can't get enough of, the logical extension of our obsession with the drone. And while we still love to drift off to the soft shimmer of a distant rumble, when you imbue a drone with more power, and more volume, and more wattage it becomes something new, a fearsome sonic beast, whether it's a subtly snarling growl of grit and grime, or a massive undulating wave of black hole fury, a drone possessed of power becomes a glorious thing to behold. And no one has as deft a hand with the drone than Baker, And Nadja is the ultimate drone via rock band. Beyond the ultra minimalism of Sunn 0))), way prettier than the filthy dirges of Moss or Monarch, Nadja are almost like some indie slowcore band but lit from within by some otherworldy source. Every track is suffused with a warm rich glow that is almost blinding, but at the same time warm and inviting. It's heavy, sure, but it's more just plain beautiful. Like staring into the sun until your eyes start playing tricks on you. Imagine listening to a sound so loud, so bright, that the synapses in your brain misfire, and your ear scrambles to make sense of this sound, and in doing so, forges all kinds of unlikely connections, subtle melodic threads, paints a lush sonic portrait. Now imagine a music that was played to already sound like that, before it even got to you. Just imagine what your mind and your ears would do with a sound like that. Some sort of unreachable aural nirvana suddenly within reach. That's the music of Nadja. It's like watching a sunset slowed down so each subtle shimmer stretches out forever, each ray of sunlight is tangled up with another, writhing in sparkling glistening knots, slowly unraveling, stretching, into endless streaks of gorgeous muted color. Imagine Jesu, but dosed to the gills on Prozac, a shiny happy Godfleshian dirge, or a My Bloody Valentine riff looped and repeated forever, underpinned by some Can drum loop at 16 rpm, or a Teenage Filmstars 45 played at 33. This is epic ultradoom metal, but with the metal replaced by soft billowy clouds of fuzzy distortion, the howling fury twisted into dreamlike tranquility, the blasting beats pulled apart and sprinkled here and there like percussive raindrops. This is as soft and pretty as a dirge-y drone can get while still retaining its inherent doomic mass. Utter and absolute loveliness drenched in a thick patina of crushing heaviness. Impossible but perfect.
This is the third John Jacob Niles reissue in as many months, and for a man who has an extensive back catalog, we are left wondering if we will be drowning in Niles reissues by the end of the year. Now that surely would be a death worthy of a Niles ballad! This is the second Tradition Label release of John Jacob Niles from 1959 (The first being the amazing, I Wonder as I Wander reviewed a few lists ago). The songs range in theme from songs of devotion and animal fables, to the fate of false-hearted lovers and gamblers. While in the past we have made comparisons of Niles high "mountain tenor" voice to neo-folkies Devendra and Anthony, that comparison really shines true here on songs like "The Cuckoo" and "The Seven Joys of Mary". Wonderful!
This brand new indie magazine from Brooklyn is off to quite a running start! It's packed with lots of cool art and music to read about, look at and listen to. This debut issue includes an article on Henry Flynt, interviews with Animal Collective, People's Mary Halvorson and 7 Year Rabbit Cycle, drawings by Devendra Banhart, a photo diary by Deerhoof and a cd by Jorge Boehringer (Core of The Coal Man).
We're not going to go into too much detail with this as it is limited to 51 copies of which we managed to snag a whopping 15! So act fast. This is indeed pricey but it sure is cool (and remember only 51 copies IN THE WORLD!). Ohsees is the new spelling for OCS which is the one and only John Dwyer (Coachwhips, Pink And Brown, Dig That Body Up It's Alive, etc) and features a 6" lathe cut, with two tracks recorded in NY, and a teensy little 3" cd-r featuring 6 tracks recorded at home. Ohsees are a strange bunch, and this set is no different, from soft abstract folk, to dreamy drones, to squalls of noisy weirdness, all weird and wonderful and so good. Packaged in an oversized pink and black sleeve, 3" cd affixed to the inside, amidst the liner notes, 6" lathe cut in its own sleeve, each one hand numbered. These will be gone before you can blink. Sorry.
Dreamy rare psych-folk from Norway 1970. Gentle, lilting female and male vocals singing through gauzy Eastern-inflected arrangements of sitars and flutes. There is a nice transported quality to the songs as they seemingly take you through imagined mythic geographies. The perfect soundtrack to float down the Nile in a boat made of reeds, or to prepare virgins for tribal sacrifices to erupting volcanoes.
Just a few weeks ago, we were happy to at long last re-list the first three incredible albums by long-time AQ fave, the amazing Mutantes from Brazil. We mentioned then that we also had been able to stock some other Mutantes titles as well, ones we hadn't ever reviewed before -- but also really like! Sure, we agree that their first three, and especially first two, albums are their absolute, all-time classics, not to be surpassed. If you haven't heard those, go check 'em out before returning to this review. But if, like us, you've worn those albums out and want to hear more Mutantes, you'll also be mighty pleased with records #4 and #5 as well, wethinks. Not to mention that if these *weren't* Mutantes albums, but psych-prog rarities from some other, more obscure late '60s Brazilian band, they'd be heralded as brilliant lost treasures with no question...
So, this week we bring you #4, Jardim Eletrico. Still featuring the crucial creative nexus of original members Rita Lee, Arnaldo Baptista and Sergio Dias, this record was released in 1971 (yes, that magical year Allan's so obsessed with, again!) and takes Os Mutantes' unique tropicalia mix of '60s acid-psych and carefree pop and Latin rhythms into perhaps a little bit more '70s prog-rock territory, without getting all serious about it or anything. They stick with the same playful 'n' eclectic (if not quite so experimental) songwriting approach as on albums #1-#3, but throw in some heavier fuzz freakiness at times, which is fine by us. The catchiness quotient is still way up too, many of the tracks being super-upbeat, surefire faves for any Mutantes fan. Take the sunniest songs by Sly Stone (this album's opener "Top Top" for sure hints at Sly) or the Kinks ("Virginia"), filter 'em through Brazilian bossa nova and Spanish flamenco folk ("El Justiciero"), step on the occasional fuzz pedal, and you'll have some idea what this sounds like. Most of the songs are in Portuguese, but you do get the all-English track "Technicolor" and also an English-language version of their Caetano Veloso-penned hit "Baby", gently sung by Rita Lee (unlike the Portuguese version on their debut, that had Baptista at the mic).
We're pretty sure that if you like A Divina Comedia Ou Ando Desligado (#3), there's no reason to stop there, you'll like #4 Jardim Eletrico too. Indeed, there's quite a few songs here that could easily compete for inclusion in our personal Mutantes top ten. So don't miss out, Mutantes fans.
NB. If you're wondering why we number all the Mutantes albums like we do, it's just a habit that started with trying to keep the first two, both self-titled albums straight...
Several years in the making and the ever so prolific Mike Patton has finally finished his Peeping Tom project. A record inspired by the 60's cult thriller of the same name, complete with really cool packaging. Patton sent tracks to a bunch of big name collaborators like Kool Keith, Bebel Gilberto, Amon Tobin, and Massive Attack. As well as enlisting folks like Dan The Automater, Dale Crover from Melvins, Kid Koala, Rahzel, Odd Nosdam, Jel, and even Norah Jones. The result is some of Patton's most accessible sounding songs in quite a while. We haven't heard his acrobatic voice sound like this since back in the 90's (you know back in his Faith No More days) and much of this record carry's that early 90's funk-electronic-hip-hop-rock hybrid. Cool.
Your Pentagram collection ain't complete if you don't have this! Here's the recent digipack reissue of the legendary DC-area doomsters' third album, originally released on Peaceville in 1994.
It's kind of the "forgotten" Pentagram disc, coming a few years after their two '80s classics, but also quite a while before what might be termed the 21st century Pentagram renaissance, that's seen several new albums on Black Widow, a couple amazing archival releases on Relapse (First Daze Here and First Daze Here Too!!) and even a Pentagram cover band popping up here in San Francisco (the cleverly-named Parallelogram, featuring John Cobbett of Hammers of Misfortune).
Yet, Be Forwarned is actually one of our favorite Pentagram albums, still featuring as it does the classic '80s line-up: Bobby Liebling (vocals), Victor Griffin (guitar) and Joe Hasselvander (drums), and Marty Swaney (bass). More importantly, it's got some great songs! Of course, there's a few Liebling compositions from way back in the '70s that those possessed of the First Daze Here comps might recognize (including the title track, a great version here of a track that Pentagram first put out on a single back in 1972), but also a bunch of tracks penned for this recording by Griffin and Hasselvander that surely are Pentagram classics by now too. Also, Bobby's at his Ozziest here, so if Sabbathy doom is your thing you can't miss this.
And now that Peaceville's gone and done nice reissues of these Pentagram albums, we're wondering when the heck Metal Blade's gonna do the same with the Trouble catalog?!
Here's the thing about Phoenix...every record they make has a least 2 or 3 songs that are great! totally charming, unique and irresistible. The kind of songs you can't leave off of mix tapes, the kind of songs you are always excited to find in jukeboxes, or hear in a good movie (Sophia Coppola knew that as she helped give the band a new lease on life by including their great song "Too Young" in her film Lost In Translation). For every great song Phoenix writes, unfortunately they have a couple duds to go with it, which has made all their albums pretty uneven listens. This newest outing sounds like their most consistent yet. With obvious hits like "Consolation Prizes" and "One Time Too Many" this French band is the kind of fun and smart listen we wouldn't mind hearing on the radio or MTV. The kind of band that's perfect to blast while you're on a carefree drive with the windows down and your best friends by your side.
Raucous, wild n' wooly noisy jazz jamming in collision with an equally noisy indie rock aesthetic... a heavy and freaky blowout with squealing horns, hard frenetic drumming, all manner of electric guitar and analog synth keyboard textures, droning violin, and sometimes some hoarse, throwaway vocals. It's all massively chaotic but, perhaps, carefully composed and even catchy at times. What the heck is this? It's Sam Coomes of Quasi getting his "jazz" on, sorta, in cahoots with a bunch of accomplished Bay Area improvisors -- Kyle Bruckmann, Gino Robair, Scott Rosenberg, and John Shiruba -- who, conversely, all take this as a chance to seriously rock out. The demented, diverse results sound something like Italy's Zu meeting up with Captain Beefheart in Tom Waits' junkyard. With both John Zorn and Melvins on the sidelines, getting drunk and cheering them on. It sounds like they're having that sort of fun. Kinda crazy and pretty darn cool.
Note: not to be confused with the similarly-named Pink MountainTOPS... that's a totally different band. We hear though that the two groups have been in correspondence and are even planning a split single maybe.
Note also: Pink Mountain will in fact be playing a show with Zu (and Citay) in SF pretty soon, Monday June 19th at the Bottom Of The Hill.
Diehard Portastatic fans might experience a few glimmers of recognition when they hear this score that the band did for For Who Loves The Sun, an indie film by Matt Bissonnette (this is the second time they've worked with Bissonnette, previously they did the soundtrack for his 2002 film Looking For Leonard). For the most part though if no one told you the name of the artist you probably couldn't tell. There aren't any big tell-tale signs such as vocals to give it away. What you would know though is that this is one fine piece of soundtrack work. The twenty two lush instrumentals (ranging from 32 seconds to just under three minutes long) feature an elegant blend of fluttery oboe, trillsome flute, warm piano and strings. Breezily pleasant and unobtrusive incidental music. Sure sounds like Mac MacCaughan has been studying his collection of Henry Mancini and George Gershwin film scores!
Fucking brilliant. Yeah, you should expect that these two high calibre sound sculptors would manage something great; and they do not disappoint. As for the obligatory introductions, Colin Potter may be best known from his ongoing contributions to Nurse With Wound over the past two decades, but has been privy to some of the finest in British dronescaping thanks to his work in Ora and Monos. The Hafler Trio is the creation of Andrew McKenzie, a sound research project which has been investigating the impact of sound upon the body, mind, and spirit through the lens of a byzantine gnosticism. A couple years back, Potter had the good fortune of witnessing the Hafler Trio's "How To Slice A Loaf Of Bread" performance in Preston, England; after the show, Potter and McKenzie struck up a conversation, whence McKenzie suggested that the two collaborate. Shortly thereafter, McKenzie sent Potter a collection of the source material from that very performance as the foundation for their collaboration. Potter stated his intentions clearly, that he wanted to preserve the shape of the material while pushing it into another space. It's an understatement to say that Potter merely achieved his intention; as A Pressed On Sandwich ranks as one of the best things that he's worked on, on par with his work with Steven Stapleton on the existential void of Nurse With Wound's Salt Marie Celeste. Yeah, it's that good! Of course, McKenzie ultimately stretched out his own material of monumental dronings over a whopping six discs on the twin set of triple cds also entitled "How To Slice A Loaf Of Bread;" so Potter's redux is a bit easier to digest, but certainly no less an album! You'll encounter the drone supreme here on A Pressed On Sandwich with electrified tonal vibrations, undulating phase patterns, and oceanic gasps of sublime expanses. The album starts off with a very cold, shivering feel but eventually transitions into a dynamic interplay of tones that simultaneously capturing the solemness of church organ droning (with all of the overtones of holy symbolism) and the unnerving purity of feedback (with all of the allusions of technology on the brink of collapse). We mentioned it before, and we'll mentioned it again: fucking brilliant.
As with all Hafler Trio releases, sorry no sound samples...
We threw this on initially thinking it would be another chunk of that new fangled screamo-prog we like so much, Coheed, Chiodos and the like, and it sort of was, but it was so much MORE METAL! Seriously. When the record kicked in, first track, first 30 seconds, we thought maybe we had thrown on the wrong record, ultra tight, blazing Swedish style deathmetal, with tons of stop / start intricacies, crushing downtuned chug and every nook and cranny stuffed with blazing, shredding, squiggly leads, licks and little woodleewoos. Almost like an emo Necrophagist!
Imagine some of the tightest catchiest screamo / emo / metalcore drenched in crushing blazing fast deathmetal and gussied up with plenty of Yes-y progisms, strummy acoustic breakdowns, and soaring almost eighties metal style vocals. And it's mostly the vocalist that pushes the band over the edge. If Protest The Hero had a screamer or a growler, they would be just another killer tech-prog deathmetal band, but with the crazy vocals and lush harmonies they turn into something completely different. The singer alternately sounds like Joey Belladonna from Anthrax, Bruce Dickinson from Iron Maiden and aQ mailorder Jason thinks the singer sounds like a screamo-metal Lou Gramm from Foreigner, which we can definitely hear. But imagine just that sort of soaring epic eighties vibe but tangled up in huge sticky webs of dense ultracomplex new wave of Swedish death metal (In Flames, At The Gates, etc.), and with crazy staccato Meshuggah / Poison The Well breakdowns all over the place. So fucking great. We listen to this NONSTOP. But it's definitely all about the guitars, heavy and epic and slippery and complex and squiggly and wanky but totally mind blowing. And the songs are catchy as hell too. It's like our eighties-self musical fantasy dream come true, a totally eighties hook filled pop record, turned inside out and massively progged up, the whole thing transformed into a crushing metal beast. If we had heard this when we were in our early teens, our fragile musical minds would have been so thoroughly blown we'd have been musically ruined for life. But hearing it now, we can definitely handle it, but just barely.
We're getting to the point now where EM Records could sell us pretty much anything. We've come to trust them that much. Whether it's singing saws, some lost psych oddity, sixties symphonies made entirely from bird calls, space age bachelor pad music, or lost jazz funk artifacts, they have such a knack for unearthing true gems, and then lovingly compiling liner notes and photos and extra track so that the final product is almost as impressive an -object- as it is a piece of music.
The newset mysterious missive from EM is this long lost mysterious jazz record, originally released in 1976. We haven't been able to glean too much about The Pyramids, there are no liner notes (if that tells you how obscure this recording was/is) and a Google search turned up almost exclusively Japanese language sites. But don't let the lack of background keep you from enjoying this record, cuz it's definitely one of the most amazing rediscovered free jazz gems we've heard in ages. And it's not just free jazz, all wild swirl and skronk. Instead it's an exotic blend of Don Cherry's Orient, Funkadelic's Maggot Brian, some Art Ensemble Of Chicago, with wild Eastern sounding tribal rhythms, shuffling jazzy post bop, fluttering flutes and skronking horns, chanted vocals, droning buzzing ragas, seventies psychedelic free folk, propulsive krautfunk jams, some totally chaotic free jazz here and there, octopoidal drumming and wild shrieking sax, haunting percussive soundscapes, replete with strange creaks and whistles, and then before you know it transforming before your ears into what sounds like traditional African music with warm muted thumb piano melodies, chanted harmonies, bird calls, and sweetly melodic flute, rollicking bass heavy grooves under wild hand drums and carnivalesquee noisemaking. The final track, the 16 minute long "Black Man And Woman Of The Nile", is a mellow slow burning groove, with a throbbing bass riff, warm rich sax runs, shuffling percussion, the whole thing a laidback, sun drenched, barefoot funkjazz jam, warm and dreamy and hypnotic, with a short break in the middle for a brief skronky freakout, and then straight back into it, eventually drifting off into abstract ambience, softly moaning horns, dreamy melodies and barely there percussive chatter. Awesome!
First time on cd outside of Japan for this early '70s album from Coltrane contemporary and torch-bearer Sanders, a free jazz saxphone legend in his own right. As you might expect, it's a disc both meditative and groovy, with a strong spiritual vibe and definite African/Nigerian influences, as on the uplifting "Ore-Se-Rere" which features lots of rhythmic percussion and vocal chant, or the 14 minute "The Gathering". The title track is also quite a lengthy number, 18 minutes long, of which quite a few are occupied by spurts of hard-blowing outside improv skronk, which you'll also find in "The Gathering" expressively wailing to a downright scary extreme. This was one of Sanders' last albums for the Impulse label, issued in 1974, and has much to recommend it to fans of his other Impulse sides. Herewith the recording details, like we're the DJ on a jazz radio station...
Personnel: Pharoah Sanders (vocals, soprano, tenor saxophone, shaker, percussion, bells); Joe Bonner (vocals, wooden flute, cow horn, piano, harmonium, percussion); Calvin Hill (vocals, bass guitar, tambora); Lawrence Killian (vocals, congas, percussion, bells); John Blue (vocals, percussion); Sedatrius Brown (vocals); Michael White (violin); Michael Carvin (drums, percussion); Kenneth Nash, Jimmy Hopps (percussion). Recording information: The Ash Grove, Los Angeles, California (09/1973); Wally Heider Studio, San Francisco, California (09/13/1973).
Sanja is an underground Japanese improv supergroup of sorts: Kan Mikami on vocals and guitar, Toshi Ishizuka on drums and percussion, and Masayoshi Urabe on alto saxophone, harmonica, bass blockfloten (?), accordion, piccolo and chains. Yes, chains, you can hear 'em. And we've gotta say: woah, not the most relaxing sounds we've ever heard! For non-Japanese speakers, even more difficult, because you won't be able to decipher the vocals of Kan Mikami, whose dramatic delivery comes across as a bit Muppet-like here to us Westerners. And Urabe's saxophone shrieks don't help matters. Nope, not always an easy listen. But that's not what they're going for, or what you're here for either, right? You're looking for some stark, intense improv a bit out of the ordinary. Well here you go. Free jazz for the wide-open spaces, avant-garde Japanese hobos camped around a fire trading hard knock life stories via vocals, drums, and sax. Even when relatively quiet, it's roiling.
Everybody's been flipping out about the Black Angels and their take on druggy drone-y space rock. But if you ask us, Norwegian blissrockers Serena-Maneesh is the band people should be freaking out about. If the Black Angels areÔchanneling Spacemen 3 via the Velvet Underground, Serena-Maneesh take their Spacemen 3 obsession and drag it kicking and screaming through the detuned murk of classic Sonic Youth, the psychedelic freakout of Hawkwind and the slow build cinematic roar of Mogwai and Godspeed. This is spaced out psychedelic drug rock of the highest order for sure, but Serena-Maneesh add their own special slant to the proceedings, twisting these tracks intoÔall sorts of dronier and dreamier shapes, cool boy / girl harmonies, hushed whispery sadboy vocals backed up by delicate dreamy female coo's and ooh's, both woven together into still more layers of sweet warm gauze, BIG guitars, not wispy or delicate, okay maybe once in a while, but mostly thick, crunchy and HEAVY riffs that just churn and grind, and then there's the hypnotic drone aspect, when Serena-Maneesh eventually build to a frenzied climax, they keep it going, endlessly, the riffs loop and loop, mesmerizing and completely spellbinding, effects swirl, guitar FX explode and careen wildly, wah wah's everywhere, warm washes of distorted swoooosh, the ambient sounds grow more and more dense, but the riffs plow forward, like there's no end in sight, our heads crack open spilling blinding light into the sky, as we drift and shimmer and are lifted into some blissed out drone rock nirvana like we haven't experienced since the heyday of bands like the Telescopes, Sundial, Loop, and of course Hawkwind and Spacement 3. So awesome.Ô
Another lost gem from the fine folks at EM records in Japan. How do they do it? We're having trouble even discerning a pattern other than the fact that pretty much everything they release totally rules! This disc is called Ten Dubs That Shook The World and we weren't actually sure it was even a dub record until we threw it on, but it is, and no surprise here, it absolutely rules! Just the fact that one of the tracks is called "Grossly Overweight Dub" pretty much guaranteed that this would be a winner. The interesting thing about Sherriff Lindo & The Hammer is that it is actually the work of Anthony Maher who just so happens to be a member of sound experimentalists the Loop Orchestra. Which makes a bit of sense, when you realize that the Loop Orchestra utilized only analog tape machines and spliced tape to produce their Jeck like dronescapes. Exactly the sort of musical mind and old school approach that would lead someone to be into folks like Lee Perry, King Tubby, Prince Jammy and the like. So when Maher wasn't meticulously plotting out collaged soundscapes with his loop buddies he was holed up in his home studio concocting a vast array of tripped out psychedelic dubs. We're huge proponents of effects, especially in dub, take that snare, hit the delay and let it repeat forever and ever and ever, better still, change the speed and pitch while it's going and create a stuttering wall of dizzying sound. The Bush Chemists are still the champions when it comes to pushing the limits of FX common sense in the quest for the ultimate dub, but Sheriff Lindo comes close. But this isn't gimmicky or anything, this is true dub, but just with an extra helping of delay, so snares stutter and hiccup, huge swaths of melody get buried in sonic murk before drifting higher and higher in the mix, dreamlike dubs floating in a psych swirl of careening rhythms and subtle simple melodies, so awesome. Definitely one of our new favorite dub records (well, new OLD records, as this came out on lp years ago, only 250 copies pressed, but youknow what we mean). Definitely worthy of a place alongside the Perry's and Jammy's and Tubby's in your collection for sure.
As with all EM releases, super deluxe liner notes, original album cover art, lots of photos, and this time liner notes in English too!!!
The beginning of Sickoakes' Seawards album may make you mildly seasick. The notes ringing out from the guitars list back and forth, bending and reverberating in a woozy fashion. This Swedish post-rock sextet augment the basic rock instrumentation of guitar, bass and drums with saxophones, trumpet and trombones. Their first album's seven tracks are big on haunting, soaring atmospheres with no vocals save for a smattering of dialogue samples. The standout is definitely "Oceans On Hold" with its brisk tempo (sorry no pun intended) driven forth by the slinky swift guitar picking and propulsive drumming. The number gradually slows to a thawing glacial glisten. Yes, fans of Godspeed and Mogwai, there's a new kid in town. A beautiful debut.
Before Skullflower became a blissed out free drone, psychedelic raga outfit which would eventually morph into the ultra dreamy Sunroof!, they were trolling much darker, much harsher waters. When IIIrd Gatekeeper first came out way back in 1992, it fell right in alongside its sonic brethren, Swans, Godflesh, Pitchshifter, Terminal Cheesecake, Ramleh and all of those industrial dirge rockers. Originally released on Justin Broadrick's hEADdIRT label, IIIrd Gatekeeper is definitely one of Skullflower's finest moments (and quite possibly both Andee and Allan's favorite SF record EVER), a slow murky trudge through a blinding squall of psychedelic guitar freakout, dense swirls of which lurk behind a lurching slow motion bass dirge and pounding near industrial drumming. Each track picks a riff and pounds it into the ground, repeating and repeating until you can't help but be drawn in, while white hot streaks of guitar skree and low end rumble spin around the relentless plodding. SO much heavier and scarier than almost any other record. A bit like a heavy metal Whitehouse, or a more psychedelic Swans. A muddy, filthy, drug drenched metal club to the side of the head. So fucking awesome.
THIS WAS A WAREHOUSE FIND. THIS RECORD IS SOOOO OUT OF PRINT, BUT ONE OF OUR DISTRIBUTORS FOUND A BOX SO WE TOOK AS MANY AS THEY HAD. ONCE THESE ARE GONE IT'S BACK TO eBAY WITH YOU...
There's something really nice sometimes about listening to something without knowing the back story and just appreciating it for what it is. I (Irwin) came in early today to catch up on some review writing. This new release on Barsuk (home to Nada Surf, Death Cab For Cutie, etc.) was on my list. I popped it in and started listening and what I heard was so refreshing. Totally earnest catchy pop with mainly keyboards, piano, drums and sugary sweet female vocals. I started thinking of the charm of Mates of State, the way the Aislers Set could make you want to sing along, the catchy melodies of Call & Response, the heyday of K records twee charm. It wasn't until later in the day that it hit me why the band's name sounded familiar. I had read about them in Vice a while ago. Two sisters who started playing music at the age of 8 years old. They learned drums from Chris Walla of DCFC and now at 14 this is their second album. We all though the first one was pretty decent, but we all agree that this is by far a better more assured outing. Really refreshing and delightful sounding.
We had heard about this group for ages, 'the metal Mogwai' people would tell us. And obviously we were intrigued. We finally got copies of their latest full length, "Being And Becoming" and listed it a few months back, and it was indeed a lot like a metal Mogwai. We dug it a lot. As did you judging from how difficult it's been to keep it in stock. So we figured we oughta track down their previous record, the equally pretty, and most definitely heavier "The Human Tragedy" and it's a killer.
The same dizzying mix of dreamy post rock, super dynamic epic cinematic soundscapes, and grinding pounding sludge.
The record begins with a thick whirring drone, mumbled melodies are strewn amidst thick swaths of low end, and simple fingerpicked guitar. That serenity doesn't last, as the second track kicks in, a weirdly grungy bass riff, simple tribal drumming, and a creepy snake charmer like melody that suddenly twists itself into a mathy metallic juggernaut, chugging riffs, venomous vocals, lurching and loping, with bursts of staccato metal fury. A bit like Today Is The Day crossed with Melvins. The next track is similar, a pounding angular crush, howled vocals and low end chug, peppered with stretches of swirling ambience. The rest of the record falls mainly somewhere between the heaviness of Neurosis, Eyehategod and Khanate and the meandering moodiness of Tortoise, Mogwai and the Timeout Drawer, but even with liberal and lengthy doses of moody math rock, drifting epic slowburn slowcore, and soft shimmery dreampop, Snowblood, always seem to return to the crush, every soft shimmer or melancholy melody is only a breath away from being laid flat by a wall of grinding guitars and pummelling drums. So great.
Some new gentle sounds from the bright SF indie label Tell-All Records! This is the latest album from Mr. Scott Solter, a gent who is perhaps most known for being the man at the helm of the recording board for numerous aural luminaries such as Mountain Goats, Spoon, Court & Spark, Tarentel, Crooked Jades, Okkervil River and 31 Knots. On occasion though he steps to the other side of the console to craft his own music. One River is a soothing, vaporous listen. Ambient drones drift in and out, evoking the tranquility of a calm lake rather than the flowing movement of a river. Very very nice!
We love frogs!!! Although the AQ website only offers two records of frogs (not counting the awesome and problematic musical group the Frogs), both HIGHLY RECOMMENDED, our personal collections seem to be bursting at the seams with field recordings of frogs. Never has there been a creature capable of producing so many impossibly unanimal like sounds. This gorgeously packaged and super deluxe collection comes from the wonderful Sitelle (it's not on their label, but they do distribute it) who in the past have brought us the sounds of rutting red deer, hillsides of pastoral cowbells and recordings of bats! So we knew this was going to be good. We were just a little unprepared for how good! It comes in a massive oversized jewel case with a 50 page booklet with extremely extensive liner notes, both in English and in Spanish, the amazing thing is there are almost 200 tracks, each one a different frog, and each track has specific liner notes as well as a full color photo of the frog! WOW!
But it's the sounds that have us all smitten with the world of frogs, and they don't get much more wild and weird and incrdibly varied than this collection right here.
There are of course a few of instantly recognizable 'croaking frogs', sort of nature tape style, but the majority here are completely bizarre and otherworldly (but without being aggravating). The frog calls typically sound nothing like frogs, here's a random sampling of what some of these frog call sound like to us: metal ping pong balls clinking together, a rapid fire mechanical woodblock like on one of those crazy pizza joint one man band player piano thingies, high pitched metallic scrapes and squeals, clinks and clanks like a broken music box, a barking seal, chirping birds, the sound of a stick hitting a tin can, a rusted hinge, a creaking door, a quacking duck, a strange looped industrial rhythm, a crying child, a bicycle horn orchestra, Tuvan throat singing, shortwave interference and it just goes on and on. It's almost like listening to some avant music concrete sound artist. But just to prove this is indeed the sound of nature, you also get the surrounding ambient sounds, rushing water, children playing, wind blowing, birds chirping, crickets, rustling leaves, it's quite a gorgeous and perplexing musical journey through nature. And quite possibly our favorite frog record yet!!!!
A new solo outing by Jason Pierce of Spiritualized and Spacemen 3 fame! The embossed golden birdy on the front cover gives nary a hint of the music contained within the otherwise unassuming orange cardboard sleeve, but the title does offer some general parameters. This thirty five minute long one-take improv roams through lengthy lullingly hypnotic passages punctuated by occasional jarring outbursts of noisy distortion, skronkiness and gritty static. Spark up and sink in.
There's a certain strain of black metal, that concerns itself more with black than metal, more with texture than heaviness, more with mood than any sort of musical rules. Those are precisely the sorts of black metal bands that send us spinning. Bands that transcend their genre, or are seemingly oblivious to the fact that they might belong to any genre at all. Such is the case with mysterious black metal outift Spektr. We discovered their debut a couple years back and proudly proclaimed it THE WEIRDEST BLACK METAL RECORD EVER. Since then it's been practically raining bizarre black metal, Furze, Rehtaf Ruo, Dead Reptile Shrine, Hidden, Urfaust, Circle Of Ouroborus, all most definitely black, but each with their own take on what black metal means. And sounds like.
This new Spektr record, however, takes up right where the last one left off, and effortlessly outweirds them all. But their mission is not to be weird. This is not calculated, purposeful, ironic, or in any way untrue to their vision. And it's not that sort of damaged inept weirdness. The music is too dense, and complex and varied and lush and just too impossibly and truly weird to be anything but the musical expression of someone's twisted vision. It's like how truly insane people are the ones who don't realize they're insane. And Spektr are most definitely insane.
The cool thing about Spektr, is that they seem to be some sort of experimental ambient project, with occasional bursts of black metal, as opposed to the other way around. More than half the record seems to be made up of drones, and static and white noise and intercepted transmissions, short wave radio, found sounds, soft subtle rumbles and strange rhythmic interference. When the metal does kick in, it tends towards a seasick lurching midtempo buzz, a lumbering blackened beast, that sort of stumbles and careens wildly out of control, occasionally slipping into a galloping blast, but quickly settling back into a slow sort of lope. Their metal is just off kilter enough to balance their experimental tendencies, and Spektr don't shy away from busting out with a black blast for only a few second before getting back to the drone at hand. And oh the drones! The gloriously twisted ambience. So dense and multilayered. Creaking and crackling, swelling and slithering, often punctuated by industrial pounding, strange rhythms, glitchy hiccups and stutters, but just as often a smoldering warble, a low end dirge of glacial hum and creepy crawly gurgle and whir, voices drift up from the murk, as do strange song fragments and bits of malfunctioning electronics, it's like walking through some black skied wasteland, the ground strewn with all manner of debris, the air thick with smoke and ash, The view fuzzy and indistinct, distant tolling bells, cymbal sizzle that sounds like sprinklers in a moonlit field, all these bits of sound, these ambient fragments, woven together into a truly ominous world of dark sound, the background to a truly bleak and buzzy black metal framework. The more we listen to this, the less -weird- it seems, scary maybe, haunting, harrowing, dark, dreary, creepy, ominous, ghostly, unnerving, and mysterious most certainly, oh okay, and quite a little bit weird too.
A definite contender for our favorite new black metal record!
The disc also includes a video, playable on your computer, for a track not on the cd. And it's a strange one as you might expect. The music is all dark drones, with weirdly jazzy drums way up in the mix, shuffling over a fuzzed out Burzumic riff that sort of ebbs and flows, a fuzzy distorted wave. It never fully kicks in, but it never completely blisses out. It sort of teeters back and forth between dark jazz and glacial black fuzz. It's a little like a black metal post-bop Bohren, sort of. The track shifts partway through and becomes a strange sonic kaleidoscope of creepy orchestra music, garbled ambience and a haunting martial rhythm played on tympani's. The accompanying video is gorgeously grainy, all darkness and shadows, like some rare damaged print of a lost silent horror film, the film stock so degraded that various chunks of light and dark take on ominous shapes, the end result, the visual equivalent of an old crackly record. Totally mesmerizing.
Limited to 300 copies and originally released WAY back in 1998, a handful of these copies somehow survived the last decade, stowed away in some storage space, amazing for the fact that the sleeves are made out of sheets of Nori (sushi seaweed wrap) and thus most of the pressing was eaten by mice. But we snagged the last copies ever of this document of late nineties angular deconstructed art pop, featuring members of such art rock luminaries as Deerhoof, Comets on Fire, The Curtains, The Lowdown and Open City. Angular guitar scrape and jangle, stumbling drums, weird warbly vocals, all sort of off kilter and homespun. Fans of Deerhoof will especially dig this.
We only have 10 copies and then this is gone for good!
The solo album from Stuart Staples -- aka the singer for Tindersticks -- sounds very much like an album from... the Tindersticks. Granted his voice is pretty much the trademark of the band's sound and he is their central songwriter, but even still we might've anticipated that Staples would veer a little farther from their well-worn yet still utterly captivating path of somber melancholic chamber pop. Are we complainin'? Hell no. Sure to please his band's legions of devoted fans and dour romantics everywhere.
Local ambient drone rockers Tarentel have kept a pretty low profile as of late. Jefre Cantu has focused on his solo recordings as well as running the amazing Root Strata label, while the other members have had their fingers in all sorts of Bay Area exploits. But it seems like maybe Tarentel is starting to gain momentum again, a recent tour with Pelican, a flurry of upcoming releases as well as this here live cd (a cd, NOT a cd-r, although still limited to 500 copies). Recorded last year, this 40 minute set displays some new facets of Tarentel's sound. The opening track is a dense collage of aggressively strummed acoustic guitar amidst swirls of feedback, guitar grit and what sounds like chantlike vocals. A thick cloud of tribal skree that sounds like it could be some lost NNCK track or a Sunburned Hand jam. The next track, the disc's 15 minute long centerpiece, is a murky drift of abstract percussion, haunting horns, muted melodies all in a cloud of room sound and natural reverb. Pretty and space-y and dreamily delicate. The last two tracks, each about nine minutes, find Tarentel dabbling again in New Weird America, albeit offering their own slant. Random percussion, shakers and bells, moaning horns and bits of clatter and clank, cloudy ambience, a muted scrape and scrabble, adding a drone like background texture, peals of feedback drift through a whirring sheet of amp hum and staticky FX, whistles send squiggly little melodies fluttering into the ether, the whole thing a deliriously laidback jam, free and unmoored, a deliriously druggy drift. So nice.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!! Packaged in beautiful brown and metallic silver hand screened cardstock sleeves, with a photocopied insert.
One day we got an email from one of our mailorder customers who mentioned he was currently listening to a band called Tenhornedbeast. Just the name had us frothing at the mouth. Then when we asked him what it sounded like, his response "epic sprawling primitive doom/drone" had us on the internet in seconds flat trying to track down copies for the store. Well, the good news is that we did manage to get some for the store. The bad news, as is often the case, is that it was incredibly limited, is already out of print, and we got the very last 20. So be prepared to be disappointed if you're not super quick on the buy button trigger.
Okay, now that we got that out of the way, let's get to the heart of this beast. Tenhornedbeast, a band that does indeed traffic in an epic sprawling primitive doom / drone. The do have a drummer too, but he mostly offers up little cymbal flourishes here and there, a big snare splat every long once in a while, the meat of the beast though is obviously the churning squirm of downtuned guitars, riff upon riff, all dirty and scuzzy and lo-fi and gorgeously doomy and drone-y and dirge-y. That sound we can't seem to get enough of. And again, VERY LIMITED. WE HAVE 20 COPIES. ONCE THEY ARE GONE THEY ARE REALLY GONE FOR GOOD.
Trying to explain why this band is so good is sort of like trying to explain why ice cream is so delicious. Or why Bush is such a terrible president.
Or maybe it's kind of like writing an introduction for the new Pynchon novel. Or telling a few jokes before Richard Pryor comes on stage. Or throwing a couple quick passes before Joe Montana comes on the field. It's that daunting, that overwhelming, that impossible.
The trio of Charles Hayward, Charles Bullen and Gareth Williams known collectively as This Heat were one of the few bands that literally changed people's lives. Changed the way folks thought about music. I (Andee) couldn't believe music like this actually existed. It was everything I wanted to listen to before I knew that THIS was exactly what I wanted to listen to. Hit It Or Quit It publisher / rock critic / indie scenestress Jessica Hopper once wrote that she literally pee'd her pants the first time she heard This Heat. And it's not hard to see why. Without This Heat, modern, alternative, avant-garde music as we know it would be a whole different beast. Post-rock, math-rock, avant rock are hugely indebted to the genre shattering experimentalism of This Heat. Tortoise, You Fantastic, Yona Kit, Brise Glace, Psychic Paramount, Laddio Bollocko, Radian, Village Of Savoonga, Larsen, Starfuckers, Circle, Salvatore, I Am Spoonbender -- none of those bands would even exist if it weren't for This Heat, or if they still did you can bet they would sound a whole lot different. And that's just off the top of our heads, AND that's -just- bands whose sound directly reflects the influence of This Heat. Imagine how many performers and artists were influenced by This Heat but who let that influence manifest itself in not so obvious ways.
We once described This Heat as "Krautrock-ish hyper rhythmic tape-looped prog." Which comes close to succinctly describing the magical musical alchemy of This Heat, but still only scratches the surface. The sound of This Heat is rhythm and texture and dynamics. The recording studio as instrument. Every sound and every song is based on rhythm and texture. There are hooks, and melodies, but they exist to serve the rhythm and are often born from the deft manipulation of sound and tempo. Even the most static and repetitive parts manage to sound -musical-. There are vocals, but they are minimal and otherworldly, weary and sing songy and completely mesmerizing. A droning musical accompaniment to the haunting whirs and clanging percussion in the background.
Their entire catalog has gone in and out of print over the years, mostly out, with all of these records pretty much completely unavailable for the last 7 or 8 years. Rumors of a complete box set began to circulate a few years back and it has finally surfaced and it's everything we could have hoped for and more. Every single release, remastered, repackaged in swank digipaks, including a bonus live disc, a huge booklet, amazing archival photos, extensive liner notes, all packed in a gorgeous box. It's a testament to the power this band holds over their fans that pretty much everyone who owns all of these records already will buy the box without a second thought. We're almost jealous of folks who have never even heard This Heat. The thought of entering into this box set completely blind, is almost frightening, as the world of This Heat is so singular, so powerful, it will be difficult to ever listen to music the same way again.
This Heat's self titled debut, originally released in 1978 (which is almost impossible to believe, that people were making music this progressive, this intense, this fucked up and forward thinking) is such a totally immersive and strangely lovely musical environment. From the machinelike krautrock of "Horizontal Hold" to the dreamy contemplative "Twilight Furniture" with its simple chiming guitars, muted tribal percussion and keening vocals, to the bizarre affected drum workout of "24 Track Loop", it's like wandering through some alien musical world. A sky full of greys and blues, smeary drones floating gently by, haunting quavering vocals drifting below, like tendrils of smoke, the barren landscape littered with all manner of rhythmic outcroppings, harsh jagged crashes and booms, as well as low rolling thumps and stutters, off in the distance simple spare melodies float and hover, each note a glowing spot on the horizon. Absolutely and utterly overwhelmingly brilliant.
The Health And Efficiency ep followed in early 1981 and took their sound in a strangely pop (for them at least) direction, sounding like some tweaked and twisted version of Wire, the title track all angular new wave guitars, monotone vocals, driving drums, strange convoluted arrangements and creepy background sound effects before the whole thing splinters into super abstract rhythmic experimentalism, looped grooves, played over and over, while sounds float and careen in the background, so incredibly hypnotic and repetitive. The second track on Health And Efficiency (which runs a brief twenty minutes) is "Graphic/Varispeed (45rpm)", a lengthy drone, a warm synth whir that surfaces within other This Heat tracks, recontextualized and often chopped up and reassembled, but here, it's a slow shifting slow motion single tone soundscape, with the tone occasionally being pitched up or down, very simple but quite haunting, and a cool glimpse at how This Heat managed to mix and match, use and reuse, without ever treading water.
Later that same year came Deceit, with the band continuing to expand and explore. Deceit consisted of shorter songs, but that didn't mean their process, or disdain for convention was altered. If anything, they managed to subvert pop music in a way never thought possible. Imagine Brian Eno circa Taking Tiger Mountain, but filter that through some avant industrialism, angular new wave and hyper rhythmic krautrock and you'll begin to get the picture. The songs on Deceit are impossibly catchy, especially when examined closely. Abstract, obtuse, angular, convoluted, tangled up but without ever losing that thread, that melodic sensibility that grounded the songs, kept them from falling apart completely, instead, the perilous arrangements only added tension and emotion. An incredibly explosive sound that somehow hybridized all of the countercultural fury of punk and situationism, within a sonic context informed by the technological advances of musique concrete and electro-acoustic experimentation. The sound was definitely punk in its own way, but certainly wasn't expressed through three chord song structures or snarling postures, instead This Heat injected their own complex pop agendas with a jittery nervous tension always building to a dramatic and cathartic release. Deceit was sadly the band's final release disbanding soon after.
In 1993, a disc of unearthed This Heat recordings was released and consisted of three lengthy tracks of tape loop experiments and random rhythmic explorations. Repeat has come to be This Heat's defining work even though it is essentially a record of outtakes and pieces meant to be incorporated into other songs. But it's hard to argue with the 20 minute title track, and endless, almost funky groove, punctuated by weird electronic swells, sprinkles of woodblock percussion and occasional handclaps but held together by one of the most amazing drum parts ever. A relentless pound and shuffle, drenched in effects, sound very dubby, but also very krautrock, a tripped out blissed out drone drenched rhythmic space jam never matched to this day. Every time this is played for a friend, musician or not, the listener is inevitably confused, perplexed and then quickly obsessed with hearing more. The second track, appropriately titled "Metal" is an abstract soundscape of, well, metal, clanging, clinking, like some ancient junkyard gamelan, almost like the previous piece transcribed for sheet metal, garbage can, metal pipe and dumpster. The metallic symphony shifts and sways, melodies surface, rhythms twist and turn, all very hypnotic and quite lovely. The final track revisits a song on Health and Efficiency, but slows it down a bit to become "Graphic/Varispeed (45rpm)", the same sort of slow, murky drone, just made even slower, so more tonal colors surface, and the subtle shit is much more noticeable, a gloriously dreamlike warm warbly whir.
In 1996, This Heat's 1977 Peel Sessions were finally released and demonstrated once again that This Heat were untouchable, effortlessly unfurling a sound equal parts avant pop, krautrock, progrock, musique concrete and a handful of parts that defied easy classification. Every track here a jaw dropping, mind blowing performance. Especially the new version of "Horizontal Hold", one of This Heat's finest moments already, played here with much more verve and vigor and with a sound quality so much clearer, a recording so incredibly hot, that the song is reborn and completely confounds and amazes. The whole session is rhythmically dense, rife with bastardized pop, incredibly complex arrangements all rendered again in such a way that they are emotional and moving, instead of just intellectual musical exercises. And the sound is so crystal clear, that you can hear a band at the top of their game, taking over the BBC studio and using it like they would a second guitar or another drummer. The Peel Sessions also include a handful of songs that never made it onto records proper. All as good as anything on their official releases.
The bonus disc included in the box is a compilation of live tracks recorded between 1980 and 1981 all over Europe and sequenced to resemble the set list the band used on tour in the eighties. Recorded using a single stereo mic, the sound is less that crystal clear, but captures the band in their element at the top of their game. The songs are amazing, it's awesome to hear the band recreate pieces that on record relied so heavily on the studio, more evidence as to the genius of This Heat.
Our only complaint about this box was that there is definitely more This Heat material out there, and anyone picking up this box, would have gladly paid a few bucks more for one or two more discs of lost rare material. But then we spied this in the liner notes of the live cd: "Further CD's from other stages in This Heat's music to follow, including collaborations, improvisations and site-specific work as well as other live cds."
We can hardly wait!
There are plenty of places on the web and in magazines to read more about the history of the band, the band members, various versions, releases and re-releases and past reissues, but none of that ultimately matters as much as the sound. And oh the glorious sound. Just take a listen to the sound samples and no words will be necessary.
Another blast of frosty grim blackness from the always reliable Paradigms label. In the past, they've brought us the drone dirge of Hjarnidaudi (an AQ Record Of The Week), the chamber gloom of Amber Asylum, the cult black metal of Throne Of Katarsis, the druggy prog of Blueprint Human Being, and now two new releases, a slow motion dirge metal epic from The Angelic Process (reviewed elsewhere on this list) and this, the debut (as far as we can tell) from Canadian black metal warriors Utlagr. This is epic, classic, Scandanavian style black metal, very much in the spirit of Immortal, Satyricon and Mayhem, and while Utlagr may not be Scandanavian, their roots most certainly are, as evidenced by this blackened tribute to their Pagan heritage, in honor of Rolfr Utlagr, founder of Normandy, their ancestral homeland. They may in fact be from Canada in the year 2006, but eyes closed they could be from Norway circa 1995! Whirling winter winds blow an ill wind from the North, while melancholy acoustic guitars, offer up lilting melancholia, before being obliterated by a burst of blasting Pagan brutality. Six tracks of buzzing majesty, blasting beats, gloriously epic melodies, all wrapped up in a thunderous swirl of dense and grim, furiously foresty classic cult black metal might!
Limited to 750 copies, packaged in a mini lp style sleeve wrapped in a hand stamped brown paper outer sleeve.
Our love affair with The Numero Group is still running hot and heavy. Can they do no wrong? Looks like it with the most recent outing in their "Eccentric Soul" series where they dig deep to find forgotten and obscure regional soul labels and share the found treasures with all of our ears. And we thank them tenfold cause every time they do it we are exposed to such rich songs that begin making their way on every mix we make. This time out it's the other side of running a soul label in a town like Detroit. With Motown pretty much holding a monopoly on the sound and market labels like Big Mack had a really hard time breaking through. If Motown was for millionaires the Big Mack label was truly a label for the people. In fact they even advertised in the Detroit Free Press offering anyone off the streets a chance to record a one-off track for under fifteen bucks. And then you could go down the street and get your songs pressed on its own 45. This is soul deep in the garage bursting with sincerity and flare. We keep hoping that with all these great soul reissues by Numero Group and Soul Jazz and Luv n Haight someone will get the good insight to start making soul records with this same kind of raw stripped down production. Highly recommended!
Most AQ regulars are well aware of the abundance of wonderful releases matched with thoughtful and pleasing packaging that have come out on Table Of The Elements over the last 13 years. This double cd compilation is not merely a label sampler, as many of the tracks included were previously unreleased. Not such a big deal for most comps but when you are talking about unreleased tracks by Rhys Chatham, Tony Conrad, Arnold Dreyblatt and Zeena Parkins, there is most definitely a reason to rejoice. You can always really judge how well a label understands the music it puts out when they release compilations. Because anyone can just throw a bunch of tracks together and say "hey look at all these cool people we've released record by" and pat themselves on the back. But when you listen to this comp the pacing and sequence on the first disc is perfectly thought out, while the second disc shows how the label has always given home to long adventurous pieces as it's dedicated to a disc long excerpt of Leif Inge's "9 Beet Stretch" Beethoven's 9th Symphony stretched to 24 hours with no pitch distortions. A field guide worth exploring for sure!
Damon Albarn and his Honest John's Records went to Nigeria and all we got were two awesome compilations of classic Juju, Highlife and Afrobeat hits culled from rare vinyl that most of will never be lucky enough to score. With the influence of Fela Kuti sewn boldly on heart, some of these songs are actually from bands who really did time as part of Fela's live outfit. Both this and the companion compilation Lagos Chop Up are super solid collections of some of the best sounds coming out of Nigeria from the mid 60's up unti the early 80's. Very good stuff!
Damon Albarn and his Honest John's Records went to Nigeria and all we got were two awesome compilations of classic Juju, Highlife and Afrobeat hits culled from rare vinyl that most of will never be lucky enough to score. With the influence of Fela Kuti sewn boldly on heart, some of these songs are actually from bands who really did time as part of Fela's live outfit. Both this and the companion compilation Lagos All Routes are super solid collections of some of the best sounds coming out of Nigeria from the mid 60's up unti the early 80's. Very good stuff!
Now, we admittedly don't carry a whole lotta house and soul tracks here at AQ. It's simply not our area of expertise. When it does cross our paths though we defer to the expert dancefloor packers such as Bay Area veteran DJ Tom Thump -- definitely a name you can trust in that department. He delivers the uninhibited goods once again on this the third installment of the Midnight Soul compilation series. He's filled the two discs with the likes of Choklate, Rich Medina, The Rebirth, Break Reform, Kid Sublime, Liquid Spirits, Black Gold Massive, Maya Azucena, 3D, Kim Hill, Deborah Bond, and Platinum Pied Pipers. Sure to have you gettin' down and gettin' busy way into the wee hours.
