If we didn't know better we might think this was some lost psychrock gem recently discovered, dug up and put on cd for the first time. With an infectious tribal groove running throughout and a seriously drugged out vibe these five jams definitely sound like they could be from some Amon Duul rehearsal recorded on a boombox in a dirty old German garage filled with dirt, mildew, mushrooms and lots of good weed. But truth be told these are actually new sounds from a local supergroup of sorts made up of members from Horn of Dagoth, Black Fiction, Tussle and Citay. The no frills cd-r packaging and raw recording are the perfect visual analog to 3 Leafs' primitive take on deep in the woods psychedelic rock.
What do you get when you cross SUNNO))), Swiss metallic post rockers Shora and UK proglords Guapo? At the very least we got your attention now don't we? Well, Aethenor is a collaboration between Stephen O'Malley (SUNNO))), Khanate, etc.) Daniel O'Sullivan from Guapo and Vincent De Roguin from Shora and sounds nothing like you might expect.
SUNNO))) might be the closest, but don't be expecting any crushing down tuned drones or slow moving sludge, instead Deep In Ocean Sunk The Lamp Of Light is a series of ambient explorations, slow moving sonic floes, very tidal sounding, thick washes of warm whir in a wide open soundscape of murky industrial percussion, and soft sonic wells, All three guys are credited, along with their usual instruments, with 'room', so as you might expect, these tracks are enormous sounding, spacious and grand, epic drifts through a dark landscape of creaking timbers and whirring wind. It's almost like a doomier version of Nurse With Wound's Salt Marie Celeste. An old rickety ship, creaking and groaning as it traverses some haunted pass, replete with moaning demons and all manner of creepy sonic incursions. And that's just the first song! The second song, another lengthy moody crawl, is super minimal, very reminiscent of seventies kraut prog like Tangerine Dream or Popol Vuh, thick keyboards that churn and slowly shift, over a backdrop of percussive clatter and keening high end melody.
The last two tracks are both around 5 minutes but somehow embody the same sort of epic spaciousness. As a pair they are a bit like the musical version of one of those paintings that from one angle shows the portrait of a person, but from a slightly different angle shows the same person as they appear in death!
The first angle is all crumbling distorted organ and tinkling music box melody over an intricate web of tape hiss, record crackle and analog synth splutter, dreamy and dark, like some sort of late night lullaby. The other deathly angle sounds like the track before it but with all the life sucked out, the warm glow dimmed, leaving a gaunt shell, the fuzzy slowly decaying, desiccated skeletal remains of a pretty song. The final few minutes offer up a super creepy haunted house melodic coda, a weird minor key music box melody over a strangely mechanical hissing rumbling rhythm. So spooky! And so nice!!!
While it may have been a bit of a misstep to release a metal record based on Moby Dick and with a big ol' whale on the cover in the long black shadow cast by Mastodon's Leviathan record, it would be even more of a mistake to pass up this Ahab record based solely on that. Obviously a lot of though went into the sound and the artwork and the execution, and if anything, we actually like this record more than the Mastodon.
So if you can get past the whole Mastodon thing, you're in for some massive and fantastically epic slow motion doom. This German outfit is CLASSIC doom, well not quite like Sabbath and Candlemass, but not the filthy slow motion grungy grimey dirgey sludge sort of doom either, this is epic and majestic, slow and sorrowful, occasionally loping with bursts of wild kick drums, more often trudging along glacially, a funereally death march through the pouring rain, knee deep in black sonic murk, but with a surprising amount of dynamics, stops and starts, some super hooky riffs, mournful guitar melodies, massive downtuned chugs that sometime morph into mathy metal workouts. Vocals that rumble and groan, a huge guttural gurgle, the whole thing impossible heavy and aggressive, but strangely pretty. Definitely reminds us of old Cathedral, Paradise Lost, My Dying Bride, that sort of thing. Like classic heavy doom metal slowed waaaaay down and made somehow even heavier. As much as we love extreme doom, the slower and the sludgier the better, it's actually nice to hear some extremely dark depressive doom with some actual melodies, and some memorable riffs, heck even some songs. We'd forgotten how good stuff like this sounds. One of our favorite new TRUE DOOM records for sure.
Whew! 14 tracks of frenetic, uber-mathy instrumental prog rock here, the Ahleuchatistas representin' the younger indie/post-rock wing of the venerable progressive rock and jazz fusion label Cuneiform's roster. We heard them recently on that Power Up! compilation of Nintendo video game theme music covers (reviewed last list), which put 'em in the company of such acts as Upsilon Acrux and The Fucking Champs. They're a prog power trio with some punk cred (in part from their edgy energy, in part from their evident political leanings, as evidenced by song titles like "Remember Rumsfeld At Abu Ghraib" and "Ho Chi Minh Is Gonna Win!"). So here's their most recent (third) full-length and, well, it's a doozy if you're dizzy for this sort of herky-jerky, highly concentrated (and concentrating) display o' chops. It's not all Primus-on-45 busyness, there's definitely post-rock moody bits to mellow things out a bit (think Rumah Sakit, Turing Machine, Chevreuil...), but clearly their calling card is the roiling, sped-up complexathons that certainly suggest these guys get their money's worth out of their practice space rent. For fans of the aforementioned Upsilon, Hella, Don Cab, Mick Barr's various outfits, Bozart, and like minded mathy dudes.
Includes three QuickTime videos of these guys playing live, so you can see they're for real!
We're total suckers for frog records. And you all are too, judging from how many we sell. And why the hell shouldn't we be? Frogs are probably the greatest and most varied noisemakers in nature. In fact most of our favorite frog records, this one included, effortlessly surpass most of the thousands of meticulously crafted electronic records released every year. A gorgeous head spinning cacophony of squeals and shrieks and trills and hums and clicks and about a million other sounds that sound like they couldn't possibly be made by a tiny little frog. But here they are, in all their audial glory. A veritable symphony of strange sounds, separated by type of amphibian for your listening convenience. But these frogs aren't solo, they're nestled amidst a glorious world of crickets and wind and burbling brooks and various other insects and creatures. However, they are the featured performers on their tracks and you don't have to worry about not knowing which is the particular creature in question. Beautifully recorded, and meticulously documented, this is a treasure trove of amazing sounds, for the nature obsessed, the field recording connoisseur as well as lovers of strange sounds.
Hard to describe exactly what these beasts sound like, other than to say most of them don't sound like frogs. Some sound mechanical, some like other animals, there are frogs that sound like video games, like quacking duck, like Geiger counters, like the ping of undersea sonar, like woofing dogs, like ringing cellphones, like creaking bed springs, like someone rubbing on a washboard, like tiny little sirens, like a mewling baby, like an old fashioned alarm clock and yes, some of these frogs actually do sound like frogs...
So totally fascinating and amazing.
Comes with a huge booklet, with text both in English and French, about the recordings, each species of amphibian, and tons of gorgeous full color photos!!
We love the out-there improvs of legendary jazz trumpeter Don Cherry, and the idea of him teamed up with an equally out-there electronics maverick (Jon Appleton, natch) was enough to get us excited about this cd reissue of the duo's 1970 recording Human Music. Cherry, then a fixture on the NYC free jazz scene, was invited to be an artist-in-residence by young Dartmouth music professor Appleton -- who just happened to have a Moog-laden electronic music studio at his disposal. The resulting collaboration is an early exercise in "live" electronic-meets-acoustic music -- as the studio techniques of musique concrete, like splicing and editing tapes with razor blades, couldn't be applied to a real-time improv duet, so Appleton had to find ways for Cherry's playing (on both horns and sundry percussion) to immediately "trigger" responses from the studio's arsenal of synths. The results are VERY bleepy-blurpy-whooshy, like something from a freaky sci-fi soundtrack, and Cherry's trumpet is often obscured by the electronic effects. We can't say that Human Music is an absolutely essential Don Cherry album but it's definitely an interesting novelty in his discography and it's cool to get to hear it now!
- MPEG stream: BOA
- MPEG stream: OBA
Okay, heads up Finnish music obsessives, especially you Aavikko freaks! Let us introduce you to this massive freaked out weirdo jazz ensemble Astro Can Caravan, which just so happens to feature members of Cosmo Jones Beat Machine and aQ faves Aavikko. And it sounds like it to!
Featuring more than a dozen players (sometimes as many as 18) this ensemble whips up a dizzying and eclectic world of funky jazzy, psychedelic weirdness. Wild guitars, fuzzed out organs, plenty of horns. Spacey future funk wrapped in outer space FX, Ethiopiques style jazz funk, big band jazz gone haywire, long stretches of free jazz freak out, groovy African jazz. You can definitely hear bits of Coltrane, Miles Davis, Fela Kuti and Sun Ra and of course some Aavikko style space jazz funk freakiness.
Wild and fun, weird and far out. But plenty groovy and jazzy and funky. Perfect dance party music for sure. If you love the Ethiopiques but always wished it was just a little bit more psychedelic and freaked out, well then friends, Astro Can Caravan may be just what you've been hankering for...
Oakland's doooooooooooooooooooomiest, Asunder, return with their second full-length album. Just back from a tour of Japan with none other than cultish doom-crust behemoth Corrupted, Asunder further cement their doom bonafides with Works Will Come Undone, which features just two tracks, one of 'em ("Rite Of Finality") almost a full-length itself at 50 minutes duration! The other track ("A Famine") isn't quite so long -- a mere 20 minutes. That's more than enough time for these guys and gal to squeeze in a few lugubrious riffs, even at the glacial pace with with they play their morose metallic funeral marches.
Asunder are all about atmosphere, allowing some really pretty and mellow parts into their crushingly heavy and depressed, slow-moving sound-world. The use of cello (played by Jackie Perez-Gratz, also of Amber Asylum) is one of Asunder's trademarks, and for giving an extra-mournful, classically elegant dimension to their doom it's hard to beat. The guitarists successfully venture to enter that sublime realm as well. Meanwhile the vocalist recalls the phlegmy throat of Forest Of Equilibrium era Cathedral frontman Lee Dorrian, mixing the rough with the smooth as it were...
For those unaware, we should also note the presence of former Weakling guitarist/vocalist John Gossard. What Weakling was to trance-inducingly epic Norwegian style black metal, Asunder is to trance-inducingly epic Finnish style doom metal!! Or maybe we should just say Oakland style, since this genre of doom has its roots all over, from Finland's Thergothon to Australia's Disembowelment and Long Island's Winter...
ATTENTION BIRCHVILLE CAT MOTEL OBSESSIVES!!!
The newest release on the Grey Daturas' Diagnosis...Don't label is a sweet lil' slab of feedback folly from NZ noisenik Birchville Cat Motel recorded live on a fire escape in Wellington New Zealand.
This here brand new 14 minute long 3" cd-r ep is BCM at his most fiery and white hot. Thick guitar drone mushed through a battery powered walkman speaker giving it that special grinding crunch sound you just sort of want to strip naked and luxuriate in. But as it's Mr. Kneale, he's able to work some of that magical alchemical musical voodoo of his, and make this shrill shrieking grinding coruscating beast sound downright pretty and soothing. Feedback becomes glistening melodies rendered in glorious dreamy high end. Not sure if it's organ or guitar, but it's all upper register skree, and it's all goddamn beautiful.
Packaged in thick textured paper grey mini 3" sleeves, with a printed (band name, label info, liner notes) Japanese style obi. Nice.
And as always, this is SUPER LIMITED, and odds are we won't be able to get more. We did get a whole bunch, but don't let that keep you from ordering it now or you'll be kicking yourself when these are gone...
THESE ARE SOME WEIRD BIRDS!
France's Sittelle label (home to Bats, Rutting Red Deer, Cicadas And Crickets, and loads and loads of Frogs, among other wonderful nature recordings) blows us away yet again with this double cd, that they (in English) call Bizarre Birds. They got that right. Well we don't know if these birds are funny-lookin' or not, but these sure aren't your average birdcalls. No sir. Spread over two whole discs, you get an amazing plethora of examples of our feathered friends opening their beaks and making some freakin' strange sounds. Each one stranger than the previous, it seems, over the 68 tracks on on disc one, and 55 on disc two. It's an international selection, these birds of six continents... from the Canada's Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker to the Venezuelan Horned Screamer; from the Laughing Kookaburra of Australia to Finland's Common Snipe. Together at last! In all, there's 84 bird species represented, over two hours of audio, with 39 of the tracks being "slowed-down" replays allowing the listener to discern additional "hidden music" in the birdcalls.
We've said this before about some other out-there nature field recordings we've heard (the droning SE Asian insects of Broken Hearted Dragonflies, the underwater penguins of Douglas Quin's sadly out of print Antarctica, the alluded-to-above The Inaudible World - A Sound Guide Of The French Bats): it sounds like cutting-edge experimental electronic music. And it's true. Some of the birds here DO sound like birds, for sure. But some of the others... is it a dog? A monkey? A demonic baby? A piece of industrial machinery? A spaceship??
We don't think that a team of sound FX specialists armed with a roomful of synths could replicate some of these wacky noises. Yet as weird as these are, there are also many examples that possess the beauty commonly attributed to birdsong. Just in their own special way. Anybody remember the Waldamsel / Forest Blackbird album we sold so many of years ago? Well this is like that but just... a lot more bizarre!
As with most Sittelle products, this comes with a thick cd booklet. Usually they're packed with a lot of explanatory text. This one's a bit different, instead we're provided with basic info on each bird/track (scientific and common name, geographic region, slow motion ratio if slowed down) plus also quite a few amusingly goofy cartoon-styled illustrations of some of the birds, in color!
Been just a little confused by this Lo Recordings release... and we're not the only ones. Ok, get this: a 1978 French disco single by the hitherto unknown Black Devil's Disco Club (perhaps, or was it titled Disco Club by an artist named Black Devil?) was reissued on 12" vinyl a couple years ago by the Rephlex label. 'Twas some pretty cool dance music for retro-minded folks, full of spacey electronics and bongo rhythms, the sort of thing that jaded DJs are always happy to dig up from the vinyl past. Now we get this album by the same artist... or is it? And is this new stuff, or old? Or a bit of both? (Most likely). Verrrrry mysterious. (Though we're sure that in certain circles all is obvious about this, not to us though.) Anyway, what really matters is, have we still got some pretty cool dance music for retro-minded folks? And the answer is yes. Super groooovy, what sound to us like sampled '70s Italo-disco synth beat stylings, full of analog sizzle. Goofily effected vox intrude amusingly as well, at times. It's a bit Giorgio Moroder, but more organic somehow. 6 tracks, 32 minutes, (maybe) 28 years in the making, and right on time, really.
The mystery of it all is heightened by the packaging -- an all black jewel case, with the credits ("written and produced by Bernard Fevre") and track titles printed only on the cardstock slipcover. Inside the jewelcase, in lieu of a cd booklet, you get a folded, 10" x 10" one-sided, black-and-white photo of Mssr. Fevre (presumably), taken back in '78? Dunno.
Yeah, it's a legendary MC5 track, and sure, it's also a cool music 'zine, but now it's also a mysterious drone outfit from Germany. We were kind of intrigued when we read a description that described Black To Comm as sounding a bit like Fennesz, Pimmon, and Earth jamming with Merzbow. That's a lot to live up to, and while maybe that's not how we'd describe it, this disc is still pretty dang amazing. Dense collages of manipulated sound, processed samples and digital electronic improvisations, all woven into gorgeous dreamy drones and subtlely melodic sonic drifts.
The first thing that came to mind was Oval, but where Oval created lush underwater symphonies out of skipping cds, Black To Comm are starting out with source sounds that are more organic, so the resulting sounds and songs are that much richer and more sonically detailed. Dense soundscapes of looped samples are stretched and smeared, twisted and tangled until the constituent parts became something totally new, and are reborn into new sonic shapes, some warm and sun dappled, others cool and moonlit, all of them dreamlike and otherworldly.
And that's exactly why this record is so magical. The process may be fascinating, but it is quickly forgotten, once you're submerged in some murky mysterious new world of sound. There's nothing to do but look, and listen, to let the sounds and sights slowly sink in, like wandering through some alien world, where everything is fresh and new, every sound is a mystery. Each track is massive in microscopic scope. Look close and you can see forever in each of these songs, climb into your stereo and carefully work your way down, layer by layer, each layer a magical new world, until you arrive at the heart of the song, a warm, soft, dreamlike place, where you can lay down and curl up, and let the layers and sonic worlds wrap tight around you, drinking you in until you become part of the music.
While we struggle desperately to get the guys in Bone Awl to bring us more of their cassettes, and while we wait impatiently for the boxes of Bone Awl lps to finally show up after being lost in the postal system for going on three months now, at least we have these here 14 inches of brand new analog Bone Awl to tide us over.
Keeping true to their old school ethos (as in NO CDS!!) the band give us a brand new double 7", released on Hospital Productions (run by the man behind Prurient) and it's just what you might expect. And just what we can never seem to get enough of. Super raw, stripped down two piece black metal buzz. Harsh and hateful, buzzing and brutal, thrashing and totally trancelike. The duo of He Who Gnashes Teeth and He Who Crushes Teeth whip up a frenzy of lo-fi blackened ultra violence, relentless and so sick. We described Bone Awl as sounding a bit like a black metal Brainbombs and that still holds true. Each track, a single riff, guitar and drums, pounded into your skull, over and over and over and over. Fucking awesome!
Probably limited but we got a bunch...
Listening to this reissue of that old aQ fond favorite Built To Spill's debut album from back in '93 just gives us the warm fuzzies. Aaaah, Martsch's unmistakable awesome vocals and guitar playing... it's nothing but the goodest of indie rock times while this record spins! How'd they keep everything so loose and casual, but nail us with such irresistible hooks?! This band raised the bar for all indie rockers who followed. This rocked then, and still rocks now! Where as Nothing Wrong With Love was jam packed with super concise, practically perfect pop songs, UAW sort of sprawls, the songs are looooooong, with extended instrumental passages and some seriously freaked out jams. Definitely reminiscent of Martsch's former band the Treepeople, with its warbly intertwined Neil Young meets J Mascis guitars. But even with all the jamming and freaking out, the perfect pop center of each song is never lost, obscured maybe, but they always swing back to the hook, and it's Built To Spill so you know those hooks can kill! Maybe our second (or third) favorite BTS record, but probably the weirdest and most rocking. WAY recommended.
Thomas Carnacki is the pseudonym of Berkeley's Gregory Scharpen who can be found lurking around the theater departments of various troupes as a sound designer and creative foil. On occasion, he's also been a member of the live ensemble for irr. app. (ext.) and has even taken the stage during a couple of Nurse With Wound gigs. Far Voyage From A Placid Island collects four of the compositions that Scharpen has created for stage in collaboration with a handful of eccentric Bay Area musicians. The first piece finds Scharpen working with Jesse Quattro for massing of breathy aerations, deep bellowings, and subterranean creakings above a sustained dark timbral hum. At first this piece has all of the acoustic richness of the brilliant Andrew Chalk / Jonathan Coleclough record Sumac bundled with horror film grimness and hymnal vocals from Quattro swathed in reverb. Scharpen's collaboration with Jesse Burson (who is the dapper gentleman from Big City Orchestra) is a much more cacophonous affair collaged from slurps and creaks that sounds like a sucking chest would above chiming bells and shards of glass. Jon Brumit (who you may remember from his exceptional album of recordings from things found at the SF landfill) and Scharpen bring crackling vinyl from 78s (you know how much we LOVE that!!!) to wintery ambience and eerie blurts from distant horns. The final track is a solo work, again featuring that unnerving horn sounds in the distance with cyclical metallic drones that bring Nurse With Wound's Homotopy To Marie to mind; a more accurate comparison would be Metgumbnerbone, but who the hell has heard of them? Very well done indeed!
Another Canadian delight! Imagine a meeting between Broken Social Scene, Built To Spill and Coldplay, and you just might discover The Castle Project. Their fine debut album Diaries Of A Broken Heart more than holds its own alongside the recent works of those mighty musical forces. Main man Ryan Ostiguy's richly emotive vocals slouch and soar in all the right places. He's struck a well executed balance of lush chamber pop stylings, gentle acoustic strummery and big rock guitars. Really gorgeous. Really good. Really recommended!
One of aQ's all-time steady-sellers is definitely the debut cd on Alchemy from Japanese super-psychedelic-space-synth instrumental groove outfit Christine 23 Onna, entitled Shiny Crystal Planet. It's been a big fave around here ever since we reviewed it on list #103 back in 2000. A duo featuring Maso Yamazaki (Masonna, Space Machine, Acid Eater) and Fusao Toda (Angel 'In Heavy Syrup), the wild analog electronics of Christine 23 Onna are a retro-delic delight. In 2002, as part of a special Maso Yamazaki "15th Anniversary Freakout Triplex" series (which also included a disc each from Masonna and Space Machine), Christine 23 Onna released their second album, Acid Eater (not to be confused with Maso's freakbeat garage band of the same name). It had ten new, energetic tracks with titles like "Acid Now!" and "Space Mondo Topless". We totally wanted to get some for the store, but had no luck at all finding import copies at any sort of reasonable wholesale price...
Well at long last we've finally got some -- and yeah, it's still pretty expensive. But that's Japanese imports for you. We trust that any fan of Shiny Crystal Planet cd would want this though, it's another monstrous onslaught of swirling '60s styled go-go disco and krautrocky kitsch, awash in FX, drenched in distortion, to the point that some of this is spaced-out enough to sound like Hawkwind and Klaus Schulze together playing funk at a LSD-party hosted by the Vampyros Lesbos and Austin Powers!! Or imagine taking tracks from one of the best old "library music" comps and running 'em all through a mad-scientist's laboratory full of synths! From fun and freaky dancefloor numbers to totally out there sci-fi soundtrackiness, we're lovin' this. Play it LOUD.
NB. We've also got the other two cds in the Freakout Triplex, and will be reviewing those soon too!
Hailing from Sao Paulo, Brazil, CSS made party waves earlier this year with their debut album on Sub Pop which brought their upbeat party jams to a whole mess of fans in the states. Touring with the likes of Ladytron and ESG has helped them show off their sassy grooves. This new 7" features the irresistible album track "Alala" as well as a b-side number which isn't on the album and is a little more raw and rocking, bringing to mind early Le Tigre or Stereo Total, which of course sounds pretty kick ass blasting through our speakers. Could be the perfect holiday treat for that special sassy someone in your life.
The return of our favorite Medieval, Middle Ages, and plague obsessed ambient atmospheric dronescapers Dark Ages, who just so happens to be a member of Ukrainian black metal Hordes Drudkh and Hate Forest. No buzzing blackness here, instead Dark Ages is a sonic trip through, well, through the Dark Ages. Another Bosch / Breughel style painting on the cover, this time skeletons on horses, pulling a wagon full of skulls, driving through a town square littered with corpses and robed skeletons. The song titles are also appropriately grim: "Ships Full Of Blackened Corpses", "Rats", "Dead Desolate Villages", "The Doors With Scarlet Crosses" and of course "Black Death".
The sound this time around is even darker and scarier. This is ambient music, sure, but it's also a sonic travelogue, a weary wander through the plague ravaged villages of Middle Europe. The sky is choked with black smoke and the stench of burning flesh. Corpses lay stacked like firewood. Dead children litter the ground like leaves fallen from trees. The few survivors, walk zombie like, an endless death march with no destination other than the grave.
The music is sounds JUST LIKE THAT. It's totally evocative and ultra creepy. Thick washes of keyboard drones, chiming minor key melodies repeated mantra like, a deep churning dark ambience underpinning the melancholy ambience, stabs of atonal harpsichord add jagged shards of horror here and there. Long stretches of super dramatic cinematic shimmer definitely recall Goblin and Zombi, some tracks are super murky minimal rumbles, with the melodies muted and buried under a thick crumbling wash of mumbled whirs and swirling low end, others are majestic and grand, fanfares for the dead and dying. They're all quite grim, a bit black, super intense, and surprisingly emotional.
Sonically, Dark Ages almost sounds like a super dismal, way blacker Dead Can Dance, or like Tangerine Dream or Popol Vuh covering Skepticism. Or even like some long lost Jacula album.
So gorgeously dark and creepy. Recommended!
Another blast of cassette encased demented blackness this time from a mysterious Brazilian black metal horde called Draugurz, who in the past have shared a split with AQ faves Marblebog.
Draugurz are of the ultra anguished midtempo doom drenched black metal persuasion, with a super buzzy and brittle guitar sound, stumbling drums way up in the mix, fuzzed out murky minor key keyboards and EXTREMELY tortured vocals, the kind that howl and scream and caterwaul...
A Yell From The Past (awesome title!) is a collection, a sort of greatest hits, drawn from two demos and the split with Marblebog, and the whole thing is a gorgeously lo-fi, dark and torturous journey through a black musical wasteland. Slow trudging doom gives way to lurching midtempo buzz gives way to a furious blast that is so blown out it threatens to transform into a smear of Merzbowian white noise. Heavy and weird and mysterious, haunting and heavy and so very dementedly black.
Killer cover too, some sort of cartoonish ghost drifting above the forest.
Warning: the tape has some drop outs and some serious sonic inconsistencies, but just consider that another element of Draugurz's weird world and they sound almost like they belong... ----* ----* Selected New Arrivals : ----*
The long awaited folk record from Ukrainian black metal gods Drudkh. And it's amazing! But before we get into it, we have always wondered, what it is exactly with black metal and folk? Why does a record, that to the untrained ear, sounds like Renaissance Faire music, get lauded as still being 'grim'? And why do black metallers, one of the seemingly most close minded group of music fans in the world, deem certain sorts of folk music worthy of their adoration, when they have utter disdain for all other musicks that are not grim or true? And what makes a certain folk music grim or true?
Who really know, and who really cares. What we do know is that Songs Of Grief And Solitude is gorgeous and mournful, melodic and mysterious, and you would never know this was the work of one of our favorite buzzing black hordes!
Based on Ukrainian legends, traditional songs and fairy tales, Songs Of Grief And Solitude is a gorgeous folk record. Acoustic guitars and flutes, woven deftly into super moving emotional arrangements. VERY reminiscent of Comus, the Incredible String Band, and similar minded seventies folkies, haunting and minor key, dark and dreamy, unlikely melodies and unusual arrangements help avoid the usual Renn Faire vibe, although when the flutes join in, it's a bit difficult to deny. But the majority of the record is quite dark, very cinematic, moody and haunting, sounding like it could very well be the work of any number of modern day freak folk outfits, but with the added weight of the band's black background giving the music more musical heft. Each song begins with the sound of a crackling campfire or chirping crickets or tolling bells or the whir of night time nature, as if each of these songs was a tale being related around a campfire, or told to friends in the field. Normally we would suggest that maybe Drudkh fans would not necessarily dig this, but pursuant to the above black metal/folk discussion, and the fact that all the Drudkh fans we know LOVE this record, we'd have to say it's pretty damn essential. But it should also be essential listening for all the modern free folk freaks as well. Might be their black metal gateway record (even though there is NO black metal here). Songs Of Grief And Solitude would fit perfectly between your Comus record and your Vetiver record, next to your Brightblack Morning Light and Feathers records. Check it out. All hail Drudkh!
Classy!!! That's the first word that comes to mind whenever we think of Alton Ellis and his sister Hortense. Without a doubt, two of the smoothest and most elegant voices to ever be captured on tape. Alton Ellis is not only one of the greatest singers in the history of Jamaican music, he just might be one of the best singers ever! One of THE original artists in the early years of Clement S. Dodd's Studio One, Ellis helped usher in an era of rocksteady and ska that would influence generations to come. But truth be told, Ellis was a classic soul singer. Making words melt in ears, taking sentiments of longing, love, and heartbreak and making them sound so sweet, smooth and irresistible. We've yet to hear a bad track from Ellis which pretty much says it all.
With such warm and dreamy Studio One rhythms surrounding the vocals, it just doesn't get any more soulful and seductive then this. Every single one of these 18 tracks is pure gold. And 8 of them are graced by Hortense's equally delightful vocal stylings. The perfect record to mend a broken heart. Music that will make you melt!
Recorded circa 1979, this debut record from Noel Ellis (son of reggae legend Alton Ellis), has finally been reissued by the Light In The Attic label as part of their "Jamaica To Toronto" series, launched with the excellent comp of the same name. Vocalist Noel Ellis's hard to find album (originally released in '83) is really fantastic, six tracks of dubby, soulful, spacey reggae grooves, recorded at Summer studios outside of Toronto, a little bit of the West Indies in the Great White North, a place frequented by such local and visiting reggae luminaries as Johnnie Osbourne and Jackie Mittoo (both featured here). One of this album's tracks, originally released as a single in '79, is a killer version of "Rocking Universally", a song later to be covered by the Clash as "Armageddon Time". All in all, another treasure trove of rare reggae essential dug up and dusted off by Light In The Attic. Righteous.
In a digipack, with 16-page cd booklet full of in-depth liner notes and vintage color photos.
Crucial Blast has supplied us with plenty of head melting, ear shredding pummel over the last few years, Skullflower, Genghis Tron, The Mass, the Goslings, but they have a soft side as well, not really 'soft' exactly, but a little bit more, well, blissful. Thus we have Crucial Bliss, a sublabel dedicated to more blissed out drones and dense dark ambience.
We had never heard Encomiast before, but this release most definitely has us kicking ourselves.
Beginning with some drifting flute passages, these forest flutters are soon consumed by a thick churning wall of white noise, before everything suddenly blissed out into a dense drone, rife with deep reverberations, and grinding industrial ambience. Where as most drone records fine a sound, and just let it drift on and on and on, the tracks on Havens never stop shifting, sounds morph into other sounds, murkiness becomes crystal clear, before slipping into lo-fi hiss again, metallic sounds soften, dreamy fluffy smears harden and become spikey and dangerous. It's always dreamy and droney and moody and gorgeous, but each track is so dense with subtle shadings and is an exhaustive journey through an endlessly shifting soundworld. Equal parts Andrew Chalk, Troum, My Bloody Valentine, Jonathan Coleclough and Wolf Eyes, the duo of Ross Hagen and Megan Garland weave programmed rhythms, field recordings, guitars, flute and vocals into completely immersive and endlessly fascinating soundscapes. Delicate and beautiful, but at the same time harsh and threatening.
Definitely one of our new favorite 'drone' records. Absolutely recommended.
SUPER LIMITED. Since we only just discovered this disc, it's close to being sold out at the label, we did get a whole bunch but we'd bet they won't be around for long.
Packaged in oversized, hand sewn full color sleeves with a cool fold over sort-of-obi. Nice!
Another blast of glorious noisy weirdness from the Grey Daturas' Diagnosis...Don't! label, this time from the strangely name EOH (named for Rob from the Daturas' son Max's imaginary friend! cool), a trio of drinking buddies (featuring Rob from the Daturas) who channel their drunken unruliness into recording session after recording session. This 20 minute chunk of dark drones and abstract free noise was culled from hours and hours of wild drunken recording, and the results are surprisingly cohesive and listenable. Still dense and noisy and intense, but with a soft touch. More whisper than roar, more drone than screech. A Wolf Eyesian industrial murk march. Dense swirling layers of thick pulsing guitar distortion, wavering and warbling in thick sheets laid over everything, peppered with occasional cymbal crashes and what sounds like some sort of throat singing. This is some seriously massive ur-drone shit. Huge industrial wastescapes, abstract spare stretches of low end rumble swirling like black fog over ruined landscapes of damaged amplifiers and detuned guitars. Haunting, and desolate but strangely lovely. Essential listening for the drone obsessed among you.
Packaged in thick textured paper grey mini 3" sleeves, with a printed (band name, label info, liner notes) Japanese style obi. Nice.
And as always, this is SUPER LIMITED, and odds are we won't be able to get more. We did get a whole bunch, but don't let that keep you from ordering it now or you'll be kicking yourself when these are gone...
And here's the second, more-or-less simultaneously released disc from Absu's Equitant, that we mentioned recently when we reviewed its companion, Zeit. In case you missed that review, here's the deal: Absu is the amazing Texan black metal band. Equitant is their guitar/bass player. But Equitant's solo albums (these two anyway) are NOT black metal. So much better than that -- they're ELECTRO music. As in, '80s Euro-disco-industrial Kraftwerk worship. Dark and moody dance floor fodder, as well as atmospheric soundscapes ("Winds Of Phobos"). It's all very dramatic, yet we suspect a bit tongue in cheek...but who can tell with the Absu crew? In any event, we're enjoying this, probably as much as Equitant enjoyed doing the photo shoot for the picture inside the digipack -- check him out in his shades, white shirt and pants and silver bracelet...sexy! So if you're up for a trip from "Germany To Detroit" (one of the song titles here) in the '80s, via the unexpected imaginings of an otherwise black metal guy in Texas right now, both Equitant albums are quite recommended!
We figure that since AQ pal Loren Chasse is so obsessed with Martyn Bates and Eyeless In Gaza, we figured we oughta just let him review this new one:
In the endless stream of comps, there's got to be something pretty special to get this listener to take notice.� For most listeners, when an anthology by a favorite band comes out there's the feverish question, "Are there any unreleased tracks� rarities�demos?!"�and� "What about the packaging -- any unseen art from some original pressing?" The new Eyeless in Gaza compilation Plague of Years: Songs and Instrumentals 1980-2006 released by Sub Rosa offers only token fulfillment of the first obsession by including a track from a yet unreleased Eyeless record, Summer Salt and Subway Sun (supposedly due out in 2006...guess not?).�The rest of the songs and instrumentals are all from full length records in the Eyeless catalog, but for three semi-rare songs from an old Sub Rosa Myths compilation from the early Eighties. So what's left for someone who's already 'in the know' about this legendary Cherry Red Records band? Not much but for a sensitively-mixed document of the musical prowess of Martyn Bates and Peter Becker, including some of their best songs -- "Fever Pitch" and "Bite" (is that a typo on this release, labeling it "Ever Pitch"...?), and "One by One" -- mixed among examples of their more mysterious and beautiful instrumental pieces. For a potential initiate to Eyeless In Gaza -- that is, someone who's perhaps all over the New Weird Now folk freakout and who might also have a soft spot for the drone and clang of such artists as Organum, Andrew Chalk or :zoviet*france: -- this comp would indeed be the perfect introduction. And if that potential initiate harbors a taste for beautifully fruity vocals (used only in adoration and reverence, Martyn!), then this could be a heavenly match, especially on those nights alone, rain pounding the window, black candles throwing moody shadows. If things worked out, of course, this comp might very well end up getting checked into the used bin on one's way to�consuming the entire Eyeless in Gaza catalog.�So� while offering little to the fan other than reassurance that Eyeless in Gaza is still awesome 26 years after its first record, Plague of Years succeeds as a flare for alerting new ears!
The latest Darren Aronofsky film The Fountain has been eagerly anticipated by many folks around here (we dug his previous works Pi and Requiem For A Dream). Haven't had a chance to go to the theater yet, but we have had a chance to hear the movie's soundtrack which sparkles with its own magical light. It is a particularly nice surprise because it features new recordings by Mogwai and Kronos Quartet. They're performing compositions penned by Clint Mansell. Now, they couldn't help but be anything but a perfect musical fit for Aronofsky's visual splendor, could they? That said, this album is somberly wonderful all on its own. Close your eyes and sink in. Sweepingly epic and intricate and absolutely moving. A must for fans of both groups.
Another amazing batch of dreamy psych-folk unearthed from the dregs of obscurity by the Sunbeam label, this lone album by Mark Fry from 1972, recorded while still a teenager, has it all. Songs about witches, a girl named Alice, lutes and flutes and mandolins, sitars, a song that unravels each verse between other songs, and even a song played entirely backwards. With a soft voice similar to Roger Rodier, whose lone album was also reissued on Sunbeam (which we also raved about!), we had only heard of Mark Fry previously through his contribution (a sadly truncated three minute version of the eight minute long "Mandolin Man") to the British edition of the Love Peace and Poetry psych compilation. Recorded in Rome and only limitedly released in Italy, it soon faded into the ether, and Fry turned to his other love, painting, in which he has had a more successful career. This reissue features two additional bonus tracks from 1975, and boasts liner notes from Fry himself telling the fascinating story of the making of this album, and beyond. Thanks Sunbeam for making this amazing album available to us again! Absolutely Recommended!!
Another frosty blast of mighty white metal. Or unblack metal. Whatever you want to call it, this stuff is blacker in sound, if not in spirit, than much of the so called black metal that comes our way. And as if to prove just how un-evil they are, Glaciial have reclaimed the extra 'i' (like in Celestiial, Mutiilation, etc.) as if to spit in the face of the dark lord. No longer is buzzing black metal strictly the purview of Satan, a new movement of positive, Christian black metal has slowly been making waves, creating a totally mindblowing catalog of bizarre and super original black metal. Buzzing and brutal enough to appeal to the true grim warriors, but weird enough to have -us- all in a lather, and with a positive message that goes down a lot smoother delivered via a face full of corpse painted spike encrusted unblack buzz!
Glaciial is a trio made up of three of the most active members in the Midwestern unblack metal scene, one part Light Shall Prevail (reviewed here a few lists back), one part Flaskavsae and one part Wrathful Plague and the result is again, fucking NUTS!!! The sticker on the cd describes this as fast and atmospheric black metal, but boy does that not nearly do this record justice. It is definitely atmospheric in that the buzz is so pervasive and blown out and thick that it smears into a massive slow shifting whirl of swirling buzz, even though the music it's wrapped around is blazing fast. And there are melodies, these songs have hooks like crazy, but they are buried under a million pounds of black buzz. But it's the vocals. What is it with all these unblack metal bands?! It's like they are all capable of singing in tongues. The Agathothodion we reviewed had some of the weirdest vocals we had ever heard, a moaning drifting croon, like a smeared falsetto. But the vocals here take the cake. We might go so far as to say most fucked and most amazing vocals EVER. A hissing rasp that alternately sounds like a Tuvan throat singer with a tracheotomy or a Sleestak. A swirling reverbed distorted raspy whisper that whips over the icy backdrop like some frozen arctic wind. HHHHHHHZZZZZZHHHZZZZZZZ. Awesome. And when the band slows down and dooms out it's seriously fucking frightening.
Get down on your knees and bask in the divine unblack glory that is Glaciial!!
Australia's Grey Daturas are like our very own noise rock Santa Claus. They come about once a year, and every time they show up, they have a huge bag of sonic goodies. And while Santa probably doesn't come to punish our ear drums and pummel us to within an inch of our lives, crammed into some smokey sweaty little club, we'd probably have to take the Daturas over Santa any day!!! Unless this year is the year we finally get that pony...
This time, the band brought with them a brand new record, technically an EP, but at nearly 40 minutes it's plenty long enough to be a record proper. And as always it's a corker. Somehow, it seems to be their most structured and least chaotic, which in no way is a bad thing, nor does it mean that it still isn't packed freaked out noise rock or vast expanses of abstract psych guitar because it is. And then some.
The opener is definitely the Daturas at their most rock. Simple driving drums beneath an impossible dense swirl of HEAVY guitars, drenched in FX and churning wildly. It's like the blown out psych rock endless jam outro of every Hawkwind song jacked up and compressed into seven minutes. The rest of the record is a bit less rock, returning to their abstract noise rock ambience, like a heaver, more psychedelic Dead C, from abstract guitar jangle drift wrapped around random bits of drum flutter to an explosive noisrockmindfuck halfway through the disc, thick peals of distorted guitar that crash and crush but are almost immediately turned inside out and become a strange backwards guitar squall, all warped and warbly My Bloody Valentine / Teenage Filmstars blowout, with strange rhythms created from the ssssshhhhhht sound of the guitars being sucked through time in reverse. After that it gets a bit more minimal for a stretch, with some dark rumbling dronescapes, more snippets of backward guitar, distant swirling FX, some angular Sonic Youth style guitar rock until the final track, a massive and ultra dense guitarscape, rife with acidic riffs and distorted melodies, thick clouds of clang and rrrooooaaar, each guitar piled atop one another, layer after layer of rumbling, reverberating, shrieking, shimmering, coruscating steel string skree, a bit like Skullflower at their riffiest mashed up with Acid Mothers Temple at their least. Amazing.
This it-had-to-happen collaboration between heavy duty Japanese psych/noise/guitar maestros Keiji Haino (Fushitsusha) and KK Null (Zeni Geva) is a swirling dark maelstrom of electric extremity. The first couple tracks, featuring Keiji Hanio's voice, and electronics from both gentlemen, kinda sounds like Keiji Haino trapped in a.. uh... cyclotron? Yeah, the electro-static charge making his bangs stand on end, and hence he's screaming in anguish amid the swoops and zips and zwooshes flashing around him, sorta like a mix of sped up tape sounds and wild sci-fi FX. Then, sudden silence... has his heart stopped? No, he's still alive. Thank God.
The third track adds some of Haino's stark percussion (a la Origin's Hesitation) plus even more murderous vocals, while on track four and five Haino switches to guitar while KK plays the drums, resulting in some skronky improv mayhem. The final two tracks are both extra-long (22 and 16 minutes, respectively) and go back to the disturbing, droning sci-fi cyclotronic soundscapes of the first few tracks, with added drums and drum machine action. It's as if these two wanted to prove that such a "clash of the titans" couldn't not result in massive (if indulgent) devastation!
2006 was most definitely the year of Harvey Milk. A year most of us had been waiting for forever! A live DVD, a double disc reissue of Courtesy And Good Will Toward Men, a brand new fucking album!! Some tours, a bunch of live shows. We've basically been in downtuned sludge rock Nirvana. And as if that weren't enough, now we've got a brand new 7" from the boys, a split with Hayride, a band they shared another split with way back in 1992.
The Harvey Milk track is an oldie, recorded at home way back sometime in the early nineties, a riffy mathy dirgey masterpiece. Very lo-fi, with the vocals buried WAY down in the mix, but it's a killer, roiling and churning, a slow motion groove, like the Melvins covering ZZ Top at 16 rpm. Essential if you're a HM nerd, and if you're not, what the hell is wrong with you?!?
Hayride, we assume are also from Athens, and unlike Harvey Milk, they sound like it. Sort of jangly and mathy, what you might imagine R.E.M. would sound like if they had recorded for Touch And Go. Some June Of '44, even some Interpol with the deep dramatic vocals. But with plenty of jangle and math rock riffage.
But no matter how cool Hayride are, the 'Milk is the reason to pick this up.
Super limited, already out of print it seems. We were one of the only stores to get copies, and while we did get a bunch, they won't last...
If all Japan's Alchemy Records label ever did was keep Hijokaidan stuff in print, noise-lovers around the world would be happy. Alchemy does a lot more than that, as you probably know, but their cd reissue program of rare '80s and '90s output by their flagship noise outfit is definitely a good thing. So here's volume 5 in Alchemy's "Hijokaidan Rarity Series", another crucial entry in that band's murky, dissonant discography: Viva Angel, originally released on LP back in 1984.
The track "Seeds Rock'n'Roll" starts things off with maniacal, repetitive babble over a constant drum beat, amidst ambient noise... then with "Hellthy Girl", Hijokaidan (and Alchemy) kingpin Jojo Hiroshige's skronky shrill swirling guitar feedback takes center stage, for an onslaught of garbled, damaged drone... drone that continues on "Secret Desire", sounding like a defective, lo-fi tape playback of a barely-heard free jazz session. Next, "Twilight Guitar" sounds like just that. So far so good, a varied palette of noisy treats. But when the title track hits, with throbbing psych-rock heaviness and wordless singing (not screaming, amazingly), even non-noiseniks might be intrigued. This could be some really extreme krautrock jam, or Hawkwind fronted by Yoko Ono. Very cool. Elsewhere, there's more than enough harshness to impress any Merzbow or Wolf Eyes fanatic...especially on the 24+ minute album-closer "Bad Character, But Great Sounds". Yet still there's something always underneath, on Viva Angel, that's either really rockin' or (more strangely) blissful. And again it's pretty clear that Faust was a big influence on these folks.
Lovely lovely lovely. Originally released way back in the magical musical year of 1971, on the French label Flamophone, the sole album by the youthful hippie duo of Bernard Ilous and Patrice Decuyper is just that, lovely. And pretty darn obscure. Amazing how reissue labels like Lion can dig up such things, as good as this elegant piece of psych-tinged, pastoral pop, replete with lush vocal harmonies, careful arrangements, and gorgeous melodies! So who were Ilous & Decuyper? Beatles-fan Ilous was already an accomplished professional composer, with a desire to at last sing his own songs rather than just write for the French pop stars of the day. He teamed up with likeminded folk guitarist Patrice Decuyper, and via a "confrontational" collaborative song-writing process that highlighted the emotional content of their music, this album was created. Doubtless the symphonic, sophisticated sound of Ilous & Decuyper's record wouldn't have been possible, except that luckily they had off-hours access to a big league, 16-track recording studio -- and spent, like, a year making this album, playing almost everything themselves and finding creative ways to do so.
We can't conclude this review without mentioning their amazing cover of "Eleonor [sic] Rigby", a wonderful, almost-hard-to-recognize-but-not-really reinterpretation of that famous Lennon/McCartney tune. Beatles fans Ilous & Decuyper were indeed, though for every part of this album that sounds Beatlesy, there's also parts that sound as much like CSN&Y, or Led Zeppelin, or Ennio Morricone, or the Bee Gees, or some sort of psychedelicized, Francophone variety of "yacht rock"!
As we've come to expect from reissues associated with Lion Productions, not only is this a pretty great, totally obscure treasure, but they've made sure to include copious liner notes and complete lyrics in the thick cd booklet. And there's also two bonus tracks from a post-album single. Quite nice indeed.
First new record in six years from Toshiaki Ishizuka, a veritable underground drum legend in Japan. Having founded Japan's first radical political punk combo Zuno Keisatsu, as well as having played and recorded with Kan Mikami, Keiji Haino, Masayoshi Urabe and many others, you might be expecting some sort of super intense deconstructed psychrock drum damage rhythmic workout, but Ishizuka's solo percussion recordings are of an entirely different stripe. No blown out psychedelia, no punk rock pound, no splattery free jazz freakouts, instead, Drum Drama, Ishizuka's third record of solo percussion, is just that, dramatic, a dark and dreamy series of slow shimmering soundscapes, as much, if not more, about texture and mood than rhythm. The drum kit here is only a part of Ishizuka's palette, spread out in a very un-drum kit like manner between wide open expanses of huge gong swells, chiming bells, bowed metal, wood blocks and tinkling chimes. Incredibly deep and physical sounding, a slow burning series of drones and shimmers. Drum Drama contains three brand new tracks, as well as two redone pieces from his long out of print debut, but they flow perfectly. An organic drift of midnight ambience, punctuated by strange bits of percussive filigree, but spending most of its almost 40 minutes drifting through deep dark cavernous expanses of sound.
Huge low end reverberations underpin delicate drifting bells, all the sounds given ample time to spread out and flutter into the ether. All woven into moaning minimal melodies constructed from dense overtones and subtle shimmer. Here and there twinkling high end sparkles surface, super percussive skitter wraps around super melodic tom fills, occasionally sounding kind of like a super slow abstract free jazz "Wipeout", but played by the Starfuckers... just drums, spread way out across the soundfield, with some serious stereo panning, the fills swerving from one speaker to the other, a dizzying dreamy soundscape of percussive melody and strange rhythmic texture.
Elsewhere, the drones morph subtlely into super affected free jazz splatter, over a dense cacophony of clanging metal and industrial clatter, very kitchen sink with bits of cutlery, tea kettle scraping and all manner of shuffling and clinking and rumbling amidst smooth resonant muted drum fills.
The second half of the record is an even more subtle wash of undersea shimmer, thick rumblings build to propulsive percussive overload, just about as psychedelic as a room full of drums and pieces of metal can get. The record fades into a barely there drone, the hiss of the tape and the analog recording almost as loud as the simple subtle rhythmic shadings....
Hard to believe a record like this is the work of a drummer. And that there is even a drum kit involved at all. Shimmery percussive dronescapes, bowed metals, reverberating gongs, rolling metallic balls, little squalls of splattery free jazz shuffle, bits of martial drumming all woven into a lovely and zen like exploration of a dark and mysterious world of rhythm and sound. So good.
- MPEG stream: Ca
- MPEG stream: Mu
On your marks, get set, order!!!
That's pretty much the way it's gonna have to be with this one. Those of you slow on the draw might as well mosey on over to eBay and take out another mortgage on your house, cuz that's definitely where you'll have to go in a couple days when these are gone gone gone. The latest ULTRA LIMITED release from the kings of moody majestic instrumental math metal ISIS, 12.17.04 (aka Live 3) is a massive double lp (pressed on thick clear vinyl) housed in a thick blue gatefold sleeve and contains a 4 sides of gorgeous live ISIS, dreamy, heavy, moody, mathy, epic, heavy, majestic... we could go on. Needless to say, if you're a fan you're definitely gonna want one of these.
LIMITED TO 700 COPIES! Half on white vinyl, half on clear. Pretty sure we got all clear, but if you somehow get a white copy consider yourself lucky. And DO NOT ask for a particular color. Or for multiple copies, both of those requests will be ignored, sorry...
What can we say about Isis that we haven't already said at this point. They are the masters. The Lords of epic, brooding, slow burn, metallic post rock majesty. And rightfully so. Every record has managed to push forward, exploring new territory, without losing what it is that makes us like them so much. Which is tough to do. But Isis make it seem effortless.
Sure, you can blame them for the recent glut of mediocre moody epic math rock. But it's really not their fault. Everytime a band happens upon a 'new' sound, a sound that is dramatic, and exciting, a sound that captures the ears of jaded music fans, well, undoubtedly in the wake of that band will follow an army of wannabees.
But Isis remain unfazed. They sit within their castle, atop a mountain of mighty riffs, and sharp craggy melodies, gazing down from the heavens. Free to do whatever they want with their sound, even if it pisses off the masses, especially if it pisses off the masses.
So with In The Absence Of Truth, Isis have again redefined and reassessed, resulting in a new record that is distinctly less metal, and much more moody and expansive. Lots of tribal drumming, crooning vocals, the metallic chugs aren't huge back-breaking riffs, instead they are part of the sonic landscape, contributing to the texture almost more than the overall heaviness. Where Isis were once worshippers at the altar of Neurosis, they have now pretty much entirely shed their Neurotic trappings and emerged butterfly like to display their new shape and blindingly resplendent colors. Rare is the heavy band that is as adept at crafting epic soundscapes, creating tension and weaving elaborate sonic tapestries as they are at crushing and pounding and pummeling, but Isis are definitely that rare band.
However, don't be misled by all this talk of mood and ambience, a lot of In The Absence Of Truth is very heavy, and is quite metal, vocals howl and downtuned riffs crush, drums pound and the bass throbs, the band transforming into a swaying lurching metallic behemoth. BUT, these huge bursts of metallic might are placed with care, used sparingly, the way a writer judiciously doles out his exclamation points, each blast nestled between lengthy sonic explorations and slow meandering moody mathiness, resulting in a super dynamic and entirely captivating slab of subtle heaviness.
Named after the protagonist from Kafka's The Trial, Josef K were a short lived post-punk / art-rock band hailing from Scotland beginning in 1979 and debanding less than a year and half later when vocalist Paul Haig declared that the band need not accomplish anything more. During that time, Josef K managed a handful of singles and one full length album; but alongside fellow Scottish ensembles Orange Juice and The Fire Engines, presented a unique sound that ventured beyond the post-punk offerings from London and Manchester. All of these bands held a bright jangliness to them that was clearly the template for a handful of more recent bands especially Franz Ferdinand; yet as this 22 track retrospective of Josef K's work demonstrates, they were clearly the darkest and most morose of the three bands. They often drew comparisons to Joy Division due to their occasional bouts of dark intensity and melancholy lyricism (and what self-respecting band from 1980 with a disaffected demeanor didn't warrant a Joy Division comparison?). Despite the dour attitudes in their tunes, Josef K more often than not displayed a mastery of art-pop jangliness complete with jittery funk reminiscent of Gang Of Four's agitated grooves and even a smattering of jagged guitar melody genius that must have gotten under the skin of Johnny Marr when he and Morrissey started The Smiths.
Wow, hard to believe that King Cat Comics is sixty seven issues old! The gent behind the endearingly Spartan King Cat line drawings and introspective stories is Mr. John Porcellino. Up until very recently he was based here in SF, but a couple of months ago he moved inland to the higher lands of Denver, CO. This here issue features a lot of Bay Area specific content including John P's top forty list for winter/summer 2006. It'll be interesting to see if the change in altitude will have any influence on his comics. S'pose we'll just have to wait 'til the next issue! Until then let's dig into #67!
The Coachmen are probably mostly known as the band that featured a pre-Sonic Youth Thurston Moore. We always just assumed that JD King was in fact a made up entity and was in fact Moore. But apparently the two met way back in 1976, bonding over their love of all things Velvet Underground, Flamin' Groovies and the like. So the two joined forces, started a band, and jammed around NY until they broke up in 1979. At which point Moore went on to Sonic Youth while King went on to become a illustrator / cartoonist. A few of those records came out in the mid eighties on Ecstatic Peace, which is probably why we all assumed that The Coachmen was just Moore in disguise. But King and the Coachmen resurfaced in the mid nineties with a new record before sort of fading away again, and then wham! 2006 and they're back again!
So what the heck do these Coachmen sound like? Well, it's been ages since we've heard the old records, but we do remember it maybe being some sort of disconnected convoluted garage rock buzz blues stomp although it's been so long it's all a bit fuzzy. But fuzzy actually does begin to describe JD King And The Coachmen circa 2006. Imagine abstract streaks of fuzzed out guitar and dreamy tendrils of minor key melodies, hovering over thick swells of distorted buzz and a dense web of noodily bass lines, peppered with muted percussive thuds, or deep cavernous tangles of dense guitar over angular riffs and thick swaths of fuzznoise and simple tambourine, or tripped out space rock drift all tangled up in thickly reverbed guitar, freaked out psychguitar drift and moody mumbling backdrops of shimmering acoustic guitar and muddy bass rumble, or a tripped out disembodied Stoogesy stomp wrapped in swirling layers of distorted psychedelia and warm whirls of frothy fuzz.
This is some sort of alien garage rock, some disembodied blues, broadcast from some other time (past? future? both?) from some other plane, a mysterious alternate universe that has more in common musically with bands like the No Neck Blues Band, Avarus, Excepter, Sunburned Hand and the rest of those druggy free rock troubadours than it does with the Velvets or the Groovies. But that's the magic, it's like King and his cohorts are a tribe of modern mediums, who mixed up a magical brew of guitar, bass and percussion, managing to conjure up a brood of garage rock ghosts of the past, letting them get all tangled up with the free noise spectres of the present.
Before everybody has a big ol' black metal meltdown, this is NOT a brand new Leviathan record (although there is a new one coming soon). This is in fact the Leviathan half of the recent split with Sapthuran released on Battle Kommand Records a little while back. However, it is the first (and only) time these songs will be available all by themselves, and on vinyl! And what a gorgeous slab of vinyl it is. A brand new painting by Wrest, the man behind Leviathan, adorns the cover, and it is truly gorgeous and horrifying, some sort of shadowy horned thing, a nice thick sleeve with the text printed in reflective gloss over the image. Very striking. The vinyl is either half red / half green, or half green / half black, and no you can't specify which color you want. It's random. Which means DO NOT ASK for a specific color, you will get whichever one gets grabbed at random, and of course, it's super limited, so only one per customer. So now that that's all out of the way we can explain just why you absolutely NEED this record:
The mighty Wrest and his black metal behemoth Leviathan resurfaces once again, and once again Wrest does not disappoint. In fact if anything (and if it's even possible at this point) the Leviathan material on The Blind Wound is even more fucked up and out there than ever. That Leviathan sound is present and in full effect, a blurry swirling buzz of crazy riffs, impossible drumming, those insane vocals, and completely bizarre song structures, almost proggy at points, never hesitating to stop and start, stutter through some improbably complex series of time signatures or bliss out into some strange ambient soundscape. And as if Wrest's compositional style and playing weren't unique enough, every track is rife with all manner of weird parts, bizarre sounds and fucked up sonic detritus. From strange tripped out drone-ambience, angular almost Greg Ginnish guitar freakouts, impossibly tortured and affected vocals that go from guttural rumble to hellish howl, to creepy otherworldly keyboard like backgrounds, to sludgy almost doomlike breakdowns to full on krautrock / mathrock workouts, albeit slathered in plenty of buzz and fuzz. The final track finishes things off in a completely unexpected way, with a warm and fuzzy slow motion smear of gauzy muted My Bloody Valentine / M83 guitars and simple blown out drumming. As always, amazing!
A man of so many moods and modes, Thurston Moore continues to create all sorts of music and sounds, as wide in scope as the insane record collection we know he has. Earlier this year Sonic Youth gave us a fantastic, and very much pop minded album with Rather Ripped, so we had a feeling that Thurston might be itching to unleash his more experimental side. Flipped Out Bride features two long droning guitar pieces that show Thurston practicing restraint briefly before unleashing some intense guitar brutality. Once again proving himself to be a direct descendent of NY guitar legends like Glen Branca, Rhys Chatham and LaMonte Young. There is a focus, subtly and sharp vision to this recording that sometimes seems to be lacking in Moore's other experimental outings. We really like him in this drone-like setting a lot more than when he try's to get his free-jazz skronk on. Nice!
Oh, how we have been waiting for this! Finally, after years of being unavailable, both records by the mighty Necrofrost are available again. If you've been paying attention to the AQ list, you will probably recognize the name Necrofrost from citations in various reviews of damaged, demented, freaked out fucked up black metal. Striborg, Dead Reptile Shrine, Detsorgsekalf, Hidden, The One. It's pretty much impossible to talk about bizarre black metal without mentioning Necrofrost. And here's why:
Okay, we know that black metal is a serious and GRIM business. There is no place for humor or frivolity. No smiling or laughing and definitely no smirking. Just bitter bleak misanthropy. Suicidal despondency. Utter frosty misery. But absurdity is a whole 'nother story. We've championed some truly absurd/damaged/demented metal in the past, Benighted Leams, Abruptum, Vondur, and of course last week's record of the week Meads Of Asphodel. But I think Necrofrost just might take the cake. This is one of the most fucked black metal records we have ever heard. Start with the titles. The record is called Bloodstorms Voktes Over Hytrunghas Dunkle Necrotroner! Some of the song titles: "Carcass Carried By The Crawls Of Titanbats", "Me The Tundra", "Slaughtered In A Misanthropic Intent", "Nostalgia Freeze The Norse Reaper", and on and on and on. The record starts off with grunting and growling and mewling, like a legion of just birthed demons, struggling to awaken and crawling up through the murk and the mire, inexplicably accompanied by some jaunty renaissance faire minstrels! Weird. The band then launches into some buzzing stumbling, chaotic, ultra grim lo-fi black metal. Struggling blastbeats, caterwauling guitars, midtempo dirges and some truly necro grunts. But suddenly the song breaks into a bizarre acoustic/country tinged breakdown, complete with warbly wicked witch vocals shrieking and squealing above the din and later, creepy keyboards evoke some long lost Z grade horror movie, while out of tune guitars emulate some sort of scary circus music. Weird! While the core of Necrofrost's sound is definitely ultra frosty, uber grim, lo-fi black Black BLACK metal, even their metal is damaged and demented. Super spastic drumming, retarded guitar, ridiculous mixing, tape drop outs (a la Faxed Head?), vocals that threaten to overwhelm the mix and occasionally do, becoming a Merzbowian blur at full shriek, baritone chants weaving in and out of ear shredding high end blur, muffled blast beats underpin, pretty arpeggiated guitar melodies while the vocalist speak/sings a litany of evil, in his best grumpy grandma moan. There's just too much weirdness to really do this record justice in a review. You just gotta hear it. A frosty, hellish mud covered, grim chunk of brilliantly skewed outsider avant black metal!
Two sides of home brewed minimalism. Of, aka Loren Chasse (Thuja, Coelacanth, etc) takes a slight detour into a dark mysterious world of disembodied free folk. Some sort of country music, deconstructed, just whisps and afterimages left to drift wraithlike. It's like the skeleton of a banjo, was left to wander aimlessly along some lonely seashore, the sound of the surf a shimmery hiss, the banjo's footsteps a spacious barely there twang. All under a murky grey sky, soft melodies like warm breezes.
Greg Davis counters with a swirl of zinging strings, a complex web melodies, the harps' shimmering strings intertwined and overlapping, all over the distant soft splashing of water. Almost like an orchestra made up entirely of harps, performing playfully in a giant bathtub. With the harps tangled sonics being subtly glitched up and processed, making the end result all the more dense and dreamy.
Amen is the second in a trilogy of works from Organum, the ongoing project of arcane drones from British artist David Jackman. While Jackman's previous work with Organum has focused upon extended glissandos from bowed cymbals swarming into huge choruses of acoustic cacophony to amazing affect, this trilogy has more in common with the minimalist agendas of Philip Glass and Brian Eno. The structure of the piece is a simple drone from a Hammond organ gaping towards infinity, furthered by repeating a sample of a monastic chant whose cathedral reverb renders any actual words indecipherable. Solitary strikes upon a tower bell and sparse chords from a piano also make their mark upon the plastic ambience. As with the first installment to this trilogy, Jackman offers two almost identical variations of the same score to flush out the 40 minutes of sound on this album. While clocking in at a considerably greater length than most Organum recordings, this trilogy pales in comparison to the strongest Organum work, best experienced in Volume One and Volume Two, both released on Robot.
Quite limited, we warn you -- we were only able to get a dozen...
The final release in a seriously amazing first year for the UK's Paradigms label. Some labels manage to be just so perfectly all over the map and so goddamn eclectic without losing their focus, swinging wildly from genre to genre, but with each disparate release and artist possessing some ineffable something that links them all together. Paradigms is the perfect example. Black metal (Throne Of Katarsis, Utlagr), math rock (Woburn House), dream dirge sludge (Hjarnidaudi, The Angelic Process), psychedelic spacerock (Titan), drone (the Walking With Ghosts compilation), prog (Blueprint Human Being), chamber (Amber Asylum), modern classical doom (Hallvardur Asgeirsson), whatever it is that Jarboe does, and now folk. Well, sort of folk. Just like the above mentioned bands, Portland, Oregon's Plants transcend any genre tag you'd care to attach to them. While they may be a self described "psych folk duo", their sound only begins at folk, taking various folk like elements and spinning them into grand expanses of starry skied drone and fuzzed out otherworldly psychedelia.
The opener "The Sky Above You Seeks The Below", is a nearly 14 minute epic, lush, thick organ drones, twist and shimmer and shift, peppered with piano plinks, and a gorgeous velvety torch song croon. Deep male vocals intertwine with angelic female voices, drifting ghostlike above the thick gritty drones beneath. Like a super lo-fi Charlemagne Palestine, a handful of keys held down, the overtones drifting into dense melodic clusters, while the voices weave dreamy minor key melodies over the top. Thick and fuzzy and ethereal. Like using your finger to manually spin an M83 single as slow as possible. Absolutely gorgeous late night drift...
The second track emerges from the first, thick fuzzed out drones intact, slithering and shimmering, before the band breaks into a dark and minimal percussive krautjam, simple rhythms, a looping repetitive riff, plodding along relentlessly through a swirling cloud of guitar buzz, sixties psychrock jangle, warm warbly organ, an utterly mesmerizing kaleidoscopic psychedelic jam that practically goes on forever.
The final track is all acoustic, steel string tangle, slippery slide, shimmering buzz, deep dramatic vocals, sort of Fahey via Comus via Incredible String Band, but with a murky moodiness, a slow moving, otherworldly Appalachia, menacing and beautifully creepy.
Double Infinity definitely puts most of the other free folk and psych folk we've heard lately to shame. Absolutely epic and amazing!
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. And unlike most of the Paradigms releases, which come in cardboard sleeves wrapped in hand stamped, brown paper, this disc is in a white DVD case, with black and white printed insert (much like the recently reviewed Hallvardur Asgeirsson...)
When I (Jim) last ran into Colin Potter it was at the Brainwaves Festival in the fall of 2006. Colin drearily apologized that his next album would be a collection of his earliest work released by the German label Vinyl On Demand. While the handful of cassettes I had of his mid-'80s work had been made up mostly of gritty postindustrial ambience and raw experiments with analogue synths, I would have never expected that Colin Potter -- nowadays the engineer extraordinaire for Nurse With Wound and collaborator with the best of British drone artists -- had a new wave bone in his body; but here it is. Not surprisingly for someone as talented as Mr. Potter, he managed to successfully work within the grim and angular synth-based structures that also resonated with Fad Gadget and Normal. A Skeleton / Cupboard Situation has been culled from a bunch of self-released cassettes made at IC Studios (yup, the same masthead he uses today!) that date from 1979 to 1983 and lovingly remastered by the fine people at Vinyl On Demand. Potter's synth-punk ethos centers upon tinny drum machine marches, plenty of grim synth repetitions, and short-fused guitars. While Potter occasionally gets a little spry and cheeky in his exuberance with the possibilities of electricity, the bulk of the album is coldly robotic and surprisingly catchy at times. In the liner notes, Potter again apologizes "unreservedly for 'singing' and promise it will never happen again, unless someone gives me a very good reason and / or a very large sum of money." Well, that's a bit self-deprecating, as his vocal style certainly fits the music with a staccato delivery and emotional detachment to match the cold synthetic tunes. I won't say that I'll be the guy who'll throw down a ton of money to hear Colin Potter sing again, but I sure as hell will be wearing out the grooves on this vinyl.
In addition to the various Silence label restocks we've listed in the past month or so (Algarnas Tradgard, International Harvester, Harvester, and Trad Gras Och Stenar) we've got another, first-time reissue of "Scandinavian krautrock" for y'all. Radiomobel ("radio furniture") were an enthusiastic, if amateur, band of teenagers coming along a few years after the aforementioned acts, circa 1975, operating in a similar psych-prog space... Basement-recorded with minimal equipment (much of it home-built), the languorous songs found on Radiomobel's rare (100 copies pressed) private-label debut LP feature lots of rhythmic chug, meandering acid rock guitar leads, and chant-like vocals. Tramsebox is often gentle, but also capable of bearing down and getting heavy, always with a similar stoned vibe to the Trad Gras Och Stenar stuff... of course, this is something for those who already have explored all those great bands mentioned above and want more of that sound, just like these guys did (or should we say, still do, as it seems they were more-or-less active thru 'til the '90s and maybe even today!).
Yes!! One of Creation Records best and most mystifying bands finally gets the anthology treatment (Thanks Rev-ola!). Releasing only two records (Off To Heaven from 1987 and Mother Watch Me Burn, from 1989), and two singles (all compiled here), no other band on the Creation roster has been subject to such wild conspiracy theories, extreme denial, rumor and hearsay that have, uh, revolved around this group. And those seeking answers will definitely not find them here.
I (Scott) remember back in my high school days hanging out in the only British Import record store in Orange County (Hyde Park Records in North Irvine) and my friend picking up Off to Heaven with its cryptic liner notes about a late night telephone call and cab-ride to the studio, finding smashed instruments, pink swastikas on the wall and the smell of a bonfire full of clothing, guitars, recording tape and a note "We are invisible...we cannot see you". According to legend, the tapes of the band arrived out of the blue at Creation, with rumors of members (never identified) being seen in various parts of the world in inebriated states of mental recklessness, acid burnout, and inappropriate undress. Needless to say, My friend and I were intrigued. We took the record home and our young minds were blown. Fuzzy, and darkly druggy sixties-sounding psych pop with Phil Spectorish arrangements, jangly guitars, alternating male and female vocals, burning farfisas, backwards tape collages, noisy feedback, and of course tambourines! Yet the songs were performed in a manner that was beyond pastiche or merely a re-tread of the early eighties paisley underground sound. Ever hear of the story of the La's obsessively recording using machines with "sixties dust", to get that distinct vintage sound? Well, RVP sound like they injected that dust deep into their veins, ripped off the drum break from Tomorrow Never Knows, turned their amps all the way up then lit them on fire, walked into the sea, never to emerge. This is the band Brian Jonestown Massacre wish they were.
Of course I wore through my dubbed cassette, and not many I have talked to since had ever heard of them. Rumors have since circulated that Revolving Paint Dream was actually a secret side project of Andrew Innes from Primal Scream, and maybe members of the Pastels as well as Creation Label head, Alan McGee. But even Nicole Garcia who wrote the liner notes for this anthology was unable to get a straight answer on exactly who Revolving Paint Dream were. After affable interviews from all the major players of Creation Records for a French Radio Programme, she received nothing but closed doors and cease and desist letters from mysterious lawyers when she tried to follow up on questions about this enigmatic group. Were McGee and Innes still sticking to their elaborate hoax? Or was Garcia just playing along? Was it a hoax at all? Perhaps some mysteries are better unsolved. At least we have the music. Absolutely Recommended!!!
