Japanese heavy psych guitar exploders LSD-march performing live in a book store?? What happened to shhhhh, quiet please, people are reading? Well actually this DVD document of LSD-march live at Philadelphia's Big Jar books is actually a triptych of solo sets from each of LSD-march's three members, so they are relatively quiet (as compared to the usual full-band blow-out volume dealing). Filmed whilst on a brief US tour last fall, the softer side of each individual in the band is revealed. Drummer Ikuro Takahashi gets the most avant-garde, with an odd apparatus of oscillators giving off experimental drones... while both guitarists Shinsuke Michishita and Masami Kawaguchi do sets of gentle vocal/guitar folkiness, a la the calm in the storm often heard in LSD-march sets. Totally personal, and perfect for this intimate setting. Some use of video effects adds to the psychedelic atmosphere. And of course aRCHIVE has packaged this 550-copy limited edition (natch) dvd handsomely in a hand silkscreened folder with some very cool artwork commissioned for this release.
It's tough to begin a review of a new super limited Machinefabriek cd-r, without discussing the fact, that this guys is dangerously prolific. This is in fact, the 12th Machinefabriek release in the last year. That's a release a month! AND that's just the ones we know about. But what can we do, they're all great! And while some of these self released little gems do get gathered up on compilations (like the recent Weleer), lots of stuff falls through the cracks and continues to exist only in these handmade micro-editions. So if you're anything like us, and we're pretty sure by now you most definitely are, then you don't want to miss out on a single shred of Machinefabriek's gorgeous and mysterious world of sound...
So�here we have another 3" business card size/style cd-r (the first was the amazing�Stofstuk, which for those of you who missed out, is also available on the remix 2cd�Kruimeldief), a brief 5+ minute piece, created entirely using a found sample of a piano tone, hence the title, Piano.wav.�
And as you might expect, this is sheer loveliness, a simple tone, pitch shifted into a virtual piano, haunting melodies drifting over landscapes of muted crackle and hiss, gorgeous ringing harmonics, lush harmonies, lots of reverb and abstract shimmer. Very forlorn and cinematic, huge smears of soft low end throb beneath a delicate landscape of spare melodic fragments and abstract arrangements, dreamy and dark and so so nice. Like most of the other short form Machinefabriek releases, this is going to be very very taxing on your cd player's repeat button. WAY recommended.�
And�again, as always, EXTREMELY LIMITED!
As everyone must know by now, we're huge suckers for Bollywood music. Just when we think we've had enough, another Sitar Funk or Bombay Beat comp comes in and we're madly in love all over again. Even if some of those comps revisit the same songs that were on other comps, we don't seem to mind too much, because there is always some new groove that we haven't been turned on to yet, or in the case of this record, hasn't been re-edited yet.
Madlib's Beat Konducta series has fast become our favorite side-project from this uber-prolific producer. Vols. 1 and 2 were like short unrealized film scores culled from the unlikeliest of musical places such as Van Dyke Parks. On Vols. 3 and 4, Madlib concentrates solely on Indian film music, painstakingly editing and reworking 34 newly unique and beat-heavy nuggets out of what is by now a classic and well-trafficked genre. But our guess is you won't be able to recognize much of the original sources, making it extra fresh listening for fans of Bollywood funk and instrumental hip hop alike.
Recommended!
Sometimes music is more than just pure sound, or the exposing of deep personal secrets and emotions, or even an homage to one's inspirations. Sometimes it's meant to tell a story... a vessel for a message. Then again sometimes music can combine all of those facets, AND MORE! Such is the case with Mammatus' sophomore effort, The Coast Explodes. On a purely sonic level, this record is absolutely amazing (we'll get there), but it's amazing on a conceptual level as well.
This record is the second installment of Mammatus' gradually unfolding tale of the battle between Light and Darkness. Goodly Light vs. the Evil of Man. Communion with Nature and the casting out of the corrosive agents of Man's doooom. The inhalation of divinity's smoke/breath... exhaling peace from every pore of the translucent flesh. Harnessing the power of Nature in your throat and fingers... swinging the sword to the heart of darkness. Bludgeon the dragon's foul heart! Mammatus is here to bare the Blade of Truth against nature's corrupters, and to ROCK against the cowardly haters of peace! Ahem, their "blade" is of course music, so lets talk about that for a sec.
This epic journey continues right where their self-titled debut left off. The first track "Dragon of the Deep part 3 (Excellent Swordfight)" is a continuation of the Dragon saga (the first album ending with "Dragon of the Deep" parts 1 and 2), and right off the bat you can hear the development. Holy shit! PROG!!!!! Where the last record was more of a trippy blend of hypno-kraut Can-ishness with the slaying heavitude of stoner lordz Sleep, this record somehow maintains that comparison and adds an incredible dose of YES! and YES!!! it rules! So the album starts with a creeping guitar drone, almost as if directly continued from part 2, before bursting in with a driving and hypnotic groove, a la Circle or the above mentioned Can, with little time change shreds at the end of each phrase (kinda proggy) and then suddenly the tempo breaks and we hear a killer stoptime, full-band SHRED! bringing us into another mesmeric groove with beautiful guitar leads soaring perfectly over the everchanging trance. The track builds and builds, ever climbing. Just when you think it can't get more ripping, another amazing riff is unearthed, the band playing so tightly we suspect they might share one cosmically unified mind. In tune with the alignment of the planets and such. All of this is building to something, you can feel it, when suddenly the song crescendos into a freeform cacophonous skronk! Cowbells, drums, and about 500 simultaneous guitar solos! FREAKOUT!
What emerges from this undulating swell is just about all a worshipper of heavy could hope for, an earth shaking riff with the first vocals of the record. Singer Nicky Emmert enters with his first cry to battle, calling us to raise the sword! The vocals are as trippy as ever, beautiful, as if sung from the back of a deep cave. This brutally sick aural climax ends almost as soon as it begins only to plunge axe first into the second track, "Pierce the Darkness", Starting with a gong crash and woodflute solo (!) then charging directly into another trance like groove. The vocals this time start right away, floating and glistening over the motorik pulse, again seemingly a call to arms. The track eventually develops into a blasting free time psychedelic guitar jam which then decompresses into some serious blissy drone.
And what happens next is one of the highlights of the record. The sound of synthesizers enter the drone and build up to a spine tingling harmonized guitar/Moog solo! You know the euphoric feeling you get when listening to shimmery synth part in Yes's "Close to the Edge", and the triumph in the pit of your stomach when Wakeman's church organ finally enters ("I get up, I get down")? A similar energy is in operation here. After this shining moment the song takes another turn towards the HEAVY and some kick ass riffage again fills the speakers. After a bit of strange synth tweakage, the mood of the album changes. Track 3, "The Changing Wind" is an all out drum circle folk jam! Acoustic guitars, propulsive hand drum rhythms, and another lilting melody from Nicky, praising mother nature and her unknowable ways. Hypnotic and blissful for sure. Suddenly the sounds of waves crashing and sea lions barking brings us seamlessly into the final movement, and title track, "The Coast Explodes". Starting with one of the catchiest "stoner" riffs we've heard for a long time. In fact this riff gets stuck in our heads for days at a time. So groovey and catchy, it makes the trees dance. Ahem. This song is a slow builder, rising subtly, and then dipping once more till it finally becomes an almost whisper. The vocals again invoking mother earth, sung in a beautiful falsetto. After this quiet respite the amps again get cranked to 11 and we are blessed with another monolithic slab of heaviness! So satisfying and perfect, it almost makes ya weep. At the end of this journey the chanting of some mythic and mysterious wizard is heard, as if belted out from the peak of a snow covered mountain, beckoning to the children of nature to rise up and join the crusade! The song then gently winds down and the whooshing sounds of the ocean again take over the mix, leaving the listener in a state of utter peace. SHIT! This album really takes you on some sort of transcendental adventure... We got lost there for a minute.
At the most basic level, Mammatus make some of the most inventive and inspired heavy music of our day. Combining diverse inspirations and molding them into something that comes across as totally genuine and pure, and of course TOTALLY RULING! Crushing and mesmerizing and beautiful all at the same time. The story behind the music makes the album all the more powerful. The listening experience of this record is akin to reading a super epic novel, one where the payoffs happen in all the right places. So duh, HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!!!! For fans of Sleep, Yes, UFOmammut, Can, Circle, King Crimson, and all things heavy and trippy and shredding and rocking and ruling! And by the by, if you have not yet, catch them live for one of the best live shows ever! On tour now with Acid Mothers Temple in the USA!
Now on LP... Oh how we love Mirah and her dreamy acoustic indie pop! Her recordings are always such a joy -- imbued with a comforting warmth, the feeling of a close knit yet welcoming indie pop community. On Share This Place, Mirah's unmistakable ageless voice has never sounded sweeter as she harmonizes angelically with herself. She clearly works well on her own as well as in collaboration with others. You might recall the recordings that she's done with other likeminded indie folksies such as Ginger and The Black Cat Orchestra. This time she is joined by Spectratone International who are actually a new incarnation of The Black Cat Orchestra. These lovely insect-themed recordings were originally intended to be accompaniment for a collection of filmmaker Britta Johnson's animated works. We can't comment on the films 'cause we haven't had a chance to see them yet, but we can definitely recommend the music! Hushed and gently winding.
It's so inspiring and sadly all too rare to find someone who was making challenging music that sounded ahead of their time decades ago, and who is STILL pushing themselves to creating music with the same adventure and scope. All too often, those who were at the forefront of creative musical invention end up settling down and creating safe and boring music as the years pass. Even many AQ psych/prog/kraut favorites end up going that route. For proof just take a listen to what folks like Franco Battiato or Tangerine Dream made decades into their careers. Luckily there are some exceptions to that downward spiral, and Dieter Moebius is a perfect example of how one can continue to make weird and wonderful music years and years after they first hit the scene. From his pioneering krautrock/kosmische work with Cluster and Harmonia as well as collaborations with Brian Eno, it would be very easy and well deserved for Moebius to just rest on his laurels. But even after those trailblazing years of the '70s he continued to make great albums into the 80's and still does today. Nurton, released in 2006, is his first solo outing in over seven years and it finds him as unpredictable and pleasing as ever. The sounds he creates take twists and turns that hold your attention fast, and he's always able to take you to a special spaced-out place full of wonder, bliss and intrigue. Crazy instrumental electronica to put the youngsters in the field to shame.
Definite contender for best cover art ever. Super striking orange on brown paper space demon, wielding a huge broad sword amidst jagged mountain peaks, but abstract enough so that it takes a minute to figure out what it is. The band name is pretty awesome too, Moknok, scrawled in a sort of drippy angular metal font on the back, and the record is called Slugstorm. Open it up, and the band members are wearing sweaters and gas masks, and there's a scrawled drawing of a cat skull. So we were definitely expecting some sort of demonic sludge or black drone, but this is nothing of the sort. These guys are from Copenhagen, and weave�violin, drums, organ and guitar into loping mathy jangle and moody mournful slowcore. Everything off kilter, damaged and demented, warped and weird, like an even more tweaked Deerhoof...
Most of the record is a sort of cracked pop, stumbling and confusional, but weirdly hooky and catchy, but here and there the band explore other sonic territory, buzzy droning stretches of minor key strum, like a more drugged and art damaged Dirty Three, haunting hippy folk that wanders and meanders, Stooges-y garage stomp, but all of it is slightly and gorgeously, a little bit off.�
It all sounds as if it was some transmission from another dimension, but in the crossing over, Moknok's pop music got all bent up and twisted, and we love it.�
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES. Pretty sure we won't be able to get more when we run out...
We didn't realize it when we first listed the Residual Echoes ep a short while back, but Elevation Records, the label that released that, and this here new Nadja ep, is co-run by professional hockey player�Boyd Devereaux, who plays for the�Toronto Maple Leafs. Wow. Story goes something like this: Hockey player into weird underground sounds, meets an ex-member of the Dirtbombs at a Dead Meadow gig. The Dirtbombs guy (let's call him Joe Greenwald) just so happened to also work for Warner Brothers. The two became fast friends and decided to start a label and voila! Elevation Records. Pretty cool. Well, we already told you all about the Residual Echoes ep (and if you missed that we still have a few in stock), so now let's talk about the new Nadja record...
A brand new 28 minute ep, from one of the originators of this new bred of blissful brutality, Canadian duo, Nadja, featuring AQ favorite, the crazy prolific Aidan Baker. While this ep starts off tranquil and drifty, it doesn't take long for things to get down to business, with a sudden onslaught of super corrosive downtuned sludge guitar and simple doomic plod. Now Nadja have always been heavy, but it's always been sort of shimmery and blown out, heavy in a drifting soft focus sort of way, but the opening track here sounds almost black metal, still with a sort of slow core pop heart, but wrapped in blackened buzz and super damaged crumbling distortion, seriously intense and ominous. Pretty amazing actually. The song fades out into a glimmering pool of distant buzz laced with dreamlike melodies, only to be clobbered by the second track, the most straight up riffy song Nadja has ever recorded wethinks, some wierd sort of slow motion stoner doom metal, but being Nadja, still wrapped in fuzzy sparkles and warm whir. All four tracks, minus brief interludes of whispery tranquility, are massive lumbering distorted dreamdoom beasts, that could definitely hold their own in a room full of hellboun heavies and devastating doomlords. While somehow managing to also sound pretty the whole damn time...
East Coast weirdo rock label Corleone gets a West Coast blood transfusion, but the results sound just as Providence damaged as anything actually raised and bred in Rhode Island. Best known around these parts as the label that brought us the rubber encased, supremely damaged metallic onslaught that was Throne Of Blood (and rest assured we have been hassling the label constantly for a repress), Corleone offer up this latest blast of off kilter propulsive noise rock drone jam groove that fits pretty cozily amidst their like minded but opposite coasted noisemaking brethren.
Night Wounds have all the right ingredients, angular scrape and skree guitar, chaotic but strangely funky drums, blown out bass, strangled almost new wave vocals, even a saxophone that manages to skronk and kick ass and not sound at all cheesy (which is quite a feat, apologies to Gerry Rafferty). The cool thing about Night Wounds is they almost sound like they could be some forward thinking no wave/new wave band from back in the day. A killer blend of Crispy Ambulance, James White And The Contortions (due mostly to the sax and the damaged jazz vibe), Pylon, and a handful of others whose names escape us right now. All tangled up with bursts of nineties style mathy complexity, stretched out hypnotic grooves, and squalls of noisy chaos.
Imagine if Factory Records had continued on, it's not difficult to imagine that Night Wounds might have embodied "The Factory Sound" circa 2007. A weirdly catchy, super groovy, damaged and demented, gloom infused tribal workout, alternatingly woozy and weird, freaky and funky, as likely to send the dancefloor into a herky jerky frenzy as it is to make the pit explode in a sloppy sweaty tangle of limbs.
And now the second volume of live ONJO avant-jazz action is here: "parallel circuit", two more cds to follow the double disc of volume one "series circuit" that we highlighted earlier this summer. It's again a wild hybrid of all the music that bandleader, turntablist and guitarist Otomo Yoshihide loves: the intense out-jazz "mass projections" of his former teacher the late Masayuki Takayanagi, groovy cult '60s Japanese film and TV soundtracks, traditional jazz standards, the genius of Eric Dolphy, and the minimal improv of electronics and silences known as onkyo music... among other things! And again Doubtmusic has put these discs in a thick gatefold miniature LP style jacket, which includes sincere liner notes from Otomo himself. The Orchestra (up to THIRTY-SEVEN musicians strong in one of the several lineups documented here!) was recorded live at venues in Japan and Germany in 2005 and 2006, performing compositions by Otomo as well as Eric Dolphy, Jim O'Rourke, Yamashita Takeo, and Charlie Haden. Any fan of ONJO's prior output will want this, it's got your daily recommended (by us) dose, and then some, of such divergent and delicious audio elements as lush big band melodicism, abstract electric drones, lovely female vocals (courtesy Kahimi Karie and others) and frantic noisy freakouts, as only the ONJO could deliver in one swank package!
A big sticker on the shrinkwrap announces that this cd was produced by Kelley Stoltz! But keep in mind though that doesn't mean The Passionistas' music is gonna sound like Kelley's. Nope, their debut album God's Boat falls into the quirky indie rock barrel of monkeys that recalls late '80s early 90s college rock. Y'know, the kind that wore dress ties with t-shirts. We might even guess that the vocals were being sung by Brak (y'know, of Space Ghost Coast To Coast)! Is that a good or bad thing? You decide! The Passionistas' loopy, light-hearted playfulness also finds its way into the album artwork which features American flag killer whales and a kimono wearing band member (the other two members opted for the more traditional indie rock hoodie and torn jeans ensemble). Loose, laidback and chock full of nuts. 15 songs in all.
In the overcrowded world of metallic post rock, or post metal, or whatever the heck you want to call it, there seem to be two forces constantly battling it out, Pelican and Isis. But it's hardly a battle, as both bands are friends, share a label, and share a sound too. And the interesting thing is they both seem to be developing in a similar fashion. Each band, in their own way, and at their own pace, seems to be phasing metal out of their sound. Not completely. But where Isis once sounded a LOT like Neurosis, they now sound much more like a post rock band with metal bits here and there. Expansive and epic and only heavy to balance their ultra melodic side. And while Pelican seemed to be on a serious metal bender there for a while, this new record, while indeed rife with metallic moments, finds them at their post rockiest, and we have to say it suits them.
From the opening track, with its loping minor key math rock intro, to it's downtuned metal chug middle, to a killer harmony guitar / double kick bridge, the band never go all out metal, even if it might sound like it on the surface. Sure, we're loving the occasional flurry of maniacal kick drum, and the occasional Fucking Champs like Carcass riffery, but it never completely transforms the sound into pure metal. Metal plated maybe, but regardless, it sounds amazing!
Pelican nowadays sound like the very heaviest band you loved in the nineties, come back to life, supercharged and metallized. We hear lots of Slint, Bastro, Polvo, Shellac, Don Caballero, June Of 44 and bands like that, in the riffs, the arrangements, the melodies, which is fine with us. In fact, a lot of City Of Echoes sounds like a heavier Explosions In The Sky, who obviously owe a great debt to the loud-quiet-loud math rockers of days gone by. Sure it's metal enough to hit the spot for that sensitive metalhead in need of a melodic instru-metal fix, and yeah it may be heavy, and it may be metallic, but c'mon, this is indie rock, a kick ass, heavy as fuck indie rock maybe, but still...
While they last, we have the limited Japanese import Daymare double disc version of City Of Echoes, much like the fancy version of Jesu's Conqueror we carry instead of the domestic Hydra Head version. Ultra deluxe packaging, gorgeous design, thick 6 panel digipak, spot varnish gloss on matte finish, Japanese obi, Japanese liner notes, but most importantly, a bonus dvd of the band performing live at the Knitting Factory in L.A., playing mostly new songs but a few Pelican classics like "March To The Sea". The dvd looks great, sounds great, and unlike some past performances we've seen, the band are on fire -- they've always sounded great, but they didn't always move that much, but here the band are super active on stage, jumping around, swaying, head banging, which makes it way more intense and fun to watch. And it's cool to see the new songs played live too...
In this day of constant change and the pursuit of the new and the (unnecessarily) 'improved', it's nice to have an element of comforting constancy... like the music of Pinback. Now closing in on a decade of music making together, Rob Crow, Zach Smith and co. have built a body of music that remains true to itself and its fans, amazingly consistent without being redundant. Why mess with a good thing? Pinback haven't, instead they continue to write totally compelling songs that have the ability to simultaneously give you goosebumps and make your body move. We are always in awe of how Pinback are able to craft a sound that is so driving and punchy while also being so heartfelt and emotional. We love just about everything Rob Crow makes in his never ending side-project excursions (Goblin Cock, Other Men, Optiganally Yours, The Ladies, etc.) but when he and Zach come together to make Pinback records something so special happens, the music those two make is most definitely greater then the sum of its parts. One of the best bands around today now have another great album under their collective belt. Highly recommended!
p.s. the first batch of these come with a bonus disc with 3 extra songs not on the album.
Hot on the heels of the recent double disc box set from Santa Cruz based black metal alchemist, comes this ultra limited cd-r of, as the liner notes describe it: "Music for summoning ghosts in the dead of night." And in case you're still not sure of what you're getting into, these tracks were recorded "after the clock struck twelve" and the liner notes also offer this sage warning "In the shadows you are followed by ghosts."
It all sounds strange and mysterious and creepy, but it all makes sense once you're familiar with the haunting and hushed sonic world of Procer Veneficus. His discs are evenly split between, blissed out shoegaze-y black metal buzz, and gorgeous smoldering, super minimal black ambience, sometimes both on the same disc, but just as often a whole disc dedicated to one or the other. The aforementioned box set, featured a disc of each, accompanied by some incense and dried leaves (he is from Santa Cruz after all).�
We won't go into too much detail on this one, as it was strictly limited to 100 copies, and we only got a handful, which will be gone in no time... Fans already know they need this, and probably haven't even bothered to read this far, instead clicking on the add to cart button and moving on, that's the sort of fanaticism this band elicits, the music is so emotional and personal, so spiritually charged, that once you're inducted into PV's sonic tribe, it's for life, and you find your self hunting for more of this soothing sonic balm, as well as the more abrasive blackened buzz, which is also in its own way quite soothing. The Cold Gloaming sounds like exactly that, the distant shimmer of cold wintery winds at dusk, the dark whisper of nightfall, a world teeming with life, lurking just out of sight, just out of earshot, a gorgeous expanse of warm whir and muted grinding guitars, echoing the the sound of the surf, the pull of the moon, the cycle of life and death, light and darkness. A dark midnight ritual, the nature of sound, a lost world of drone and drift, slowly fading away as the sky brightens and the darkness retreats. So totally gorgeous.�
And as we mentioned, LIMITED TO 100 COPIES. Each disc hand numbered. Packaged in a gorgeous full color sleeve...
More blissed out full moon music from these multi syllabic musical mammals (say that ten times fast!). Four tracks spread out over 2 sides... And if the last Mythos Folkways lp is any indicator, blink and you'll miss this...
The first half begins all fluttery and folky, dreamy melodies drifting amidst swirls of percussive thrum, all tangled up into some sort of fracture folk, peppered with random free jazz skitter, garbled vocals and dense clouds of FX. It sounds like a band -about- to stumble into action, -about- to fully rock out, tense and dense and abstract and mysterious, for most of the side, but then they DO rock out and it's awesome. A blown out mathy psych jam, drums and cymbals everywhere, guitars grinding and growling and swooping and soaring, all wrapped in thick swaths of reverb and delay and distortion, eventually petering out and finishing off with some soft blissy drift.�
The flip side follows a similar sonic pattern, beginning with more abstract skree and clatter, a haphazard improvised ramble, which gradually builds into a tripped out alien krautrock jam, still abstract, but with little propulsive lurches, draped with bizarre falsetto vocals, haunting harmonies, all unwinding into a slithery garage-y groove.�
Cool hand screened covers, photocopied insert, and of course way limited...
What a strange and wonderful mixed bag of an album! While listening to The London Book Of The Dead you can easily forget it's the work of one band, let alone one man -- British solo artist Stephen Coates. It's almost like flipping the radio dial at random, but one that can receive transmissions from the olden days of cabaret, ragtime, chamber ensembles, and vaudeville. Part of the charm of The Real Tuesday Weld is that much like Portishead, his recordings have been prematurely aged to sound like authentically crackly hissy vintage recordings. Somewhere about two thirds of the way through the album though, we noticed the vibe shifting to more even-keeled modern day feel conjuring comparisons to The Doves or Badly Drawn Boy's Damien Gough's laidback shambolic folktronic sounds. Additionally Coates does share Gough's penchant for the bittersweet and downright embittered in the lyric department. Darkly playful and captivating.
Holy Wonder Bread, Batman! Rilo Kiley's new album is so unbelievably adult contemporary. Its title is somewhat misleading, if not downright incongruous. Don't know about you, but the thought of black lights makes us think of trippin' out at Doodle Arts in the wee hours or gettin' lost in the sweaty masses on the dancefloor. Well, Rilo Kiley's Black Light is more apropos for pondering the glowing bits of lint in your belly button or gazing adoringly at a dish of vanilla custard. On this their fourth (and first on a major label) album they seem to be aspiring for the heights of the classic rock heroes of the '70s such as Fleetwood Mac and The Eagles, but Lewis in particular has ended up more in line with Olivia Newton John circa "Have You Never Been Mellow" than Stevie Nicks. If you like your pop smooth, polished and pretty, Rilo Kiley's follow-up to 2004's More Adventurous will coat, soothe and relieve. A band you can take home to mom.
Holy grail second album from one of the best American metal bands EVER (who never get their due). While we'd say 1981's Fire Down Under (their third) is THE one to get, if you were to get only one, once you've heard that you're gonna want to hear more. And so mucho kudos to Rock Candy for at long last providing the world with a cd reish of Narita, originally released on LP by Capitol in 1979. New York's Riot were what the NWOBHM would have sounded like if it would have happened in the USA instead of the UK. A supercharged, metallized step up from the American '70s hard rock of the mid-seventies (bands like Starz, KISS, Ted Nugent, ZZ Top), definitely melodic, but much more rippin'. And also way more ass-kicking and streetwise than most of the Sunset Strip style hair metal that the US offered up a few years later, though Riot surely were an influence on the best of that bunch. They still exist today, by the way, releasing records (big in Japan!) but lots different from back when, in part due to the fact that their original lead singer, the amazing Guy Speranza, RIP, is long gone from the lineup. That guy shoulda been a famous rock star, just listen to him here.
Before we get into the story behind this disc, let us just start by saying, that not only is this one of our new favorite records, a gorgeous slithery, smokey cross between Bohren And Der Club Of Gore and Portishead, but that it took a whole lot of work to get it into the store and available for sale...
So this has actually happened to us a few times, which either speaks to our naivete, or as we prefer to think a dogged belief in the record album as object, to be held, listened to and loved, and an inability to understand any thoughts to the contrary. Australia's Hidden Shoal Records got in touch with us and was hoping we would check out some of their bands, we did, and got all excited about carrying them at AQ. Until, after we emailed and tried to order some, we were regretfully informed that Hidden Shoal was in fact a digital only label, no lps, no cds, no cassettes, just MP3's. Too bad we thought, as far as we were concerned, though of course we know there are those perfectly happy to download some MP3's. But over the course of many months, and lots of emails back and forth, the label admitted to being interested in actually pressing up cds. We of course encouraged them, because we wanted all our customers to be able to buy and hear this music, but also, because, there's something about the object, the cd or the lp or the 7", the liner notes, looking through the booklet while listening to the music, the feel, even the smell. And sure, it IS all about the music, but that other stuff is part of it too, no matter how much iTunes wants us to think otherwise. Obviously most of you don't need to be told that, otherwise you'd probably not be reading this.
Well, the upshot is, two of our favorite recordings on Hidden Shoal are now finally available on cd, well, cd-r actually. But they are professionally pressed, with full color artwork, printed artwork on the disc, and heck, we'll take cd-r's over MP3s any day. And lots of you seem to prefer cd-r's anyway...
This disc is the latest from German combo Sankt Otten, often considered to be the Portishead of Germany, and sonically, that's not all that far off the mark. Although when we first heard it, we heard a lot of Bohren as well, late period Talk Talk, and maybe a little Tricky and Massive Attack. It all adds up exactly how you might imagine. Slow burning instrumentals, humid and sultry, Morricone-ish guitars drifting in a sea of rumble and shimmer, the bass a slithery serpent of sound, smooth and sexy sometimes, distorted and fuzz drenched at others.
But as with music like this, it's all about two things, the drums, and the atmosphere. And the drums here are perfect. And heck, so is the ambience. The rhythms almost always begin a jazzy skitter, the cymbals sizzling, the snare brushed, occasionally lurching into a more propulsive funk flecked rhythm. A dark lugubrious pulse, dangerous and dimly lit. The drums demarcate a darkened path through back alleys and smoky clubs, everything cloaked in a thick, ominous ambience. Dense sonic swells wrapped around sparse arrangements and moody minor key melodies. More of a jazz vibe than any of the above mentioned bands... but the jazziness oozes into all sorts of gorgeous variations, with the various chunks of dreamy doomy shuffle separated by stretches of Circle like hypnorock or looped Necks style static jazz, or the haunting Sigur Ros like vocals on "Fallen Und Fangen (Johannes Der Laeufer)" draped over soaring super dramatic strings, or even the album closer, "Maerchenwald", which almost sounds like it could be on Kompakt, a grey hued shoegazey drift, with sweeping synths rainy day piano, and a strange techno pulse buried in the mix. Some tracks sound so much like Portishead, they could be lost B-sides or instrumental outtakes, but Sankt Otten manage to imbue even those tracks too with their own stamp, be it an unlikely melody, some Western twang, some strange distorted bass line, spidery atonal synth or an unexpected abstract breakdown. Or as is the case on "Zum Schweigen Verdammt" its flurries of cinematic strings, and super distorted percussive crashes.
It's all just so intensely moody and melancholy, jazzy and dramatic, and so so gorgeous.
First release from this brand new duo, made up of one part Tom Carter (Charalambides) and one part Pete Swanson (Yellow Swans), gorgeously presented as a one sided clear vinyl lp, the other side featuring silkscreened artwork from Grouper's Liz Harris, housed in a thick clear vinyl sleeve.�
Both these guys bring out the best in the other, dense tangles of chiming metallic shimmer, drifting harmonics, whirring amp buzz, keening feedback, bits of scrape and shuffle, dotted with tiny squalls of burnt psych guitars, swooshing ambience and lots of drifting space.�
The sound is murky, but vibrant, notes and chords spread into a thick slow shifting fog of fragmented melodies and wavery bits of guitar grind. On the surface, this is raw and wild, untamed and even mildly abrasive, but these guys manage to deftly smooth it all out into something downright pretty, without losing any of the raw fire or visceral immediacy.�
As with most things like this, it's also super limited...
Yet another jam packed issue of outsider rock, modern music, free jazz and everything in between. If you already read the Wire, you should definitely make room for Signal To Noise, they both cover similar sonic territory, but each with their own bent, meaning they compliment each other pretty perfectly.
This month Animal Collective is on the cover. And inside: Akron/Family, Andrew Hill R.I.P., Astral Social Club, The Terminals, Rod Poole R.I.P., People, Future Rapper, Khate, a piece on the Chicago drone movement, and a seriously massive collection of reviews, cds, lps, books, performances, installations and more.
The Skull Defekts are another one of those bands that seem to have gone from some unknown entity with just a cd-r and a tape, to a serious band, with an avalanche of releases, in the blink of an eye. So much so that it's been tough for us to keep up. This is the first of maybe three cds that have come out in the last little while, but the first we're actually getting around to reviewing.
In the review of the only other SD release we've listed and reviewed, a now out of print lp on Conspiracy Records, we said that "if there was any justice in the world, these guys would be battling Wolf Eyes for the hipster noise rock crown for sure," and this record, along with all the others we have yet to review, but will soon, only reaffirms that sentiment.
But whereas Wolf Eyes are lo-fi and murky, using piles of junk and damaged electronics and instruments that look (and sound) like they were sitting in a garage rusting for 20 years, The Skull Defekts seem to approach their noise with a bit more technical savvy, to the point of sounding mostly electronic, which they may very well be, but it's a testament to these guys and their sound that it's pretty difficult to tell what exactly is going on and what manner of soundmaking devices could produce this glorious racket. But who cares really, when it sounds this amazing, and mysterious, fucked up and so beautifully damaged.
The opening track here sounds like a Oval, but after being stored on decaying tape in William Basinski's attic for 20 years. A hypnotic looped soundscape of glitched electronics, haunting electronic melodies, crumbling distorted textures, alien beeps and bloops, all strung together into haunting melodies, and lurching barely perceptible rhythms, the song constantly crapping out, being swallowed up by distortion, as if it was being played back on a broken tape player, a skipping cd player and blown speakers simultaneously. A gorgeous chunk of decayed beauty. Of modern electronic corrosion. The second track is a slow growing drone, a warm electronic warble, a resonant thrum, drifting beneath shimmering metallic melodies, like Niblock covered by Wolf Eyes, a barely shifting series of sounds and layers, the various components becoming more and more distressed as the piece progresses, more distorted, less cohesive, but weirdly enough, more and more lovely.
The last half of the record is split into two parts, the first is a cloud of chaotic high end, a little bit Sunroof!, a little bit Vibracathedral Orchestra, but anchored by looped electronics and a relentless klaxon pulsing in the background, giving the track a strange sort of momentum, not at all unlike Avarus or Anaksimandros on Kompakt. The second part, and final track on the record, is a long dirge-y drone, of thick corrosive electronics and warm whirring low end, always on the verge of erupting into full on sludge, but instead, grinding glacially through a landscape of dark rumble and thick rib cage rattling throb...
Finally! After years of being a huge fan of Australian guitarist Chris Smith, and only being able to track down split eps and comps, or collaborations, we've finally got our hands on the latest, and seems only in-print cd releases from this amazing musician. Some of you might remember Smith from the split Fatcat 12" he shared with Jewelled Antler outfit The Ivytree a while back, or more recently, the killer collaboration with fellow Australian�Justin Fuller, reviewed�at the beginning of this year (and still in stock!).
All of Smith's proper releases, even a stateside collection of 'greatest hits' are all out of print and unavailable, which is s massive shame as this man is a guitar genius. But where other records feature Smith mostly solo, using his guitar to weave magical landscapes of abstract sound, on Bad Orchestra, he seems to have put together an actual band (a Bad Orchestra?) and written some songs, for a record that is as rock as we've heard him for sure. Thankfully, Smith's rock is as good as his non-rock, dark and emotional, epic and intense, at times sounding like Dinosaur Jr. channeling Crazy Horse, right down to the vocals, a whiney plaintive croon, at others sounding a bit like a more moody meandering Dirty Three, and still at others unwinding into sparse deserty twang. The guitars thick and reverb drenched, the drums slightly distorted and heavy, acoustic guitars below sheets of psyche rock fuzz, that alone would have made Bad Orchestra a winner, but the rock tracks here are scattered amidst more abstract (and more familiar to us) pieces, guitarscapes and expansive ambience, the opener, a brief spell of Scott Tuma style Appalachian murk, to the forlorn sounding piano-in-a-warehouse of "Glue Factory" or the glistening high end raga of "Slight Problems (Intermission)", the Dead C like fractured noise pop of "Jimmy's Theme" to the blurred Tim Hecker like washed out soundscape of "Your Tunnel".�
A pretty perfect mix of gorgeous ambient experimentalism, blown out RAWK, and haunting dark desert pop. Obviously WAY recommended.��
Now available on vinyl!
Wow! This is probably the best thing we've heard on Kill Rock Stars in AGES. With totally spazzed out guitar playing and impassioned vocals, Marnie Stern has grabbed us by the throats and refuses to let us go. It makes perfect sense that Zach Hill drums on this record as Stern's herky jerky rhythms and relentless spirit share a similar aesthetic and approach to Hill's band Hella and folks like Lightning Bolt and Orthrelm. In fact Marnie Stern has hit the scene almost like a female counterpart to Mick Barr, with the same kind of manic and infectious guitar playing delivered with her unique vision and fist in the air vocals. Kind of like if Erase Errata or the latest Paradise Island e.p. we loved so much were even louder, faster and way more chaotic, or if Mary Timony were kidnapped by Load records. This album does what all the great Kill Rock Stars records of the past did so well, it makes you feel so alive and so young in spirit as your get to watch and hear someone so passionately realize their vision. Highly recommended!
Yowza, another cool Sun Ra reissue! The space-jazz legend left this earth long ago now, but continues to astound. It's the first time on cd for The Night Of The Purple Moon, a 1970 session (originally released on LP in '72) by Ra and "His Intergalactic Infinity Arkestra", which here means a rare small-group outing, featuring Sun Ra getting down on twin Mini-Moogs and, for the majority of the record, something called a "Roksichord" (back then, a new-fangled solid state electronic keyboard, simulating a harpsichord and meant mainly for rock bands). He's accompanied by Akestra stalwart John Gilmore on the drums (instead of his usual saxophone, though he does bust out his tenor on one cut, "Impromptu Festival"), Danny Davis on alto and clarinet and flute and bongos (and drums when Gilmore takes over on sax), and the electric bass of Safford James. It's an intimate, groovy, spaced-out lounge-jazz thing they've got going, somehow (though unsurprisingly, since it's Sun Ra) simultaneously tweaked and eerie, jaunty and haunted... The nasal, rinky-dink distorted electronic sounds of Ra's Roksichord are predominant, augmented by the occasional outburst of sax. This is given even more weird atmosphere by the spare production and the slightly scratchy presence of surface noise, as the master tapes were destroyed and this cd reissue was prepared from an unplayed copy of the original vinyl release. Nothing we'd complain about of course. And this slipcased cd reish, with liner notes by John Corbett, also includes four bonus tracks -- one alternate take, and three *previously unreleased* tracks of Sun Ra Wurlitzer electric piano and Celeste solos home-recorded in 1964, even weirder and more otherworldly (muffled and lo-fi and abstract and thus ethereal) than anything he could conjure from those Moogs and the Roksichord later on. Recommended (duh, it's a Sun Ra reissue!).
Norwegian songstress Susanna Wallumrod takes a siesta from her group Susanna And The Magical Orchestra. Sonata Mix Dwarf Cosmos is her solo debut and is a warm evening affair with the spotlight centered fully on her lovely voice accompanied by some tasteful minimal piano and acoustic guitar. Her songs are smooth, slow and mellow to the point of drowsiness, and have an almost dinner club lounge feel. Fans of Cat Power might find this particularly enchanting (especially as her voice definitely sounds a but like Chan Marshall). Produced by Deathprod.
Three new sonic missives from the ether, from whatever mysterious alternate sonic universe the NOTHingness label exists in. A world of bleak emptiness, massive expanses of barren rumbling tundras, of glassy black surface sonic pools... Every disc dark and lovely, creepy and ominous, haunting and super intense. And of course outrageously limited...
This shadowy shimmer is the work of Taphephobia, a side project of the more well known dark ambient outfit Nothaunt, and actually treads somewhat similar sonic ground, but maybe even more abstract. The true audial essence of nothingness for sure, not so much dark ambience, as a mysterious series of soundscapes, of imagined field recordings, the sounds of strange goings on beneath the surface of the earth, massive slow moving machinery, a series of nearly abandoned mines populated by strange shuffling creatures and the occasional ghostly spirit. The clang and shudder of huge pieces of metal being moved across rock strewn plains, the hiss of steam and the grinding of gears, steeped in the shimmering reverb of bottomless pits and mile high caverns overhead, clank and clatter, spread out over strangely rhythmic backdrops, reverberating shimmers, huge pulsing thumps, a gorgeous hellish underworld industrial symphony of minimal lowercase crawl.�
LIMITED TO ONLY 111 COPIES!! Packaged in a slimline dvd style case with full color cover.
Three new sonic missives from the ether, from whatever mysterious alternate sonic universe the NOTHingness label exists in. A world of bleak emptiness, massive expanses of barren rumbling tundras, of glassy black surface sonic pools... Every disc dark and lovely, creepy and ominous, haunting and super intense. And of course outrageously limited...
Through Fire is the first collaboration between these two relatively unknown (at least to us) US industrial ambient drone outfits, Temperature Within and Lovepowerexperiment, and together, they weave a suitably rumbling whirring shimmery series of slow burning dronescapes, that subtly shift and swell and morph over the course of eight Roman numeral-ed tracks. The opener is a prime slab of mysterious melodic dark ambience, imagine Lustmord if the sound was as pretty as it was scary, buried melodies tangled up in gritty crumbling swells of thick low end thrum. But by the end of the track, it has transformed into some sort of epic cinematic swirl, sweeping melodies, simple propulsive rhythms, a lost soundtrack to some dark drama. The rest of the disc unfolds in a similar fashion, tracks wander abstractly through shadowy stretches of haunting tension, barely there soft melodic shimmers, caustic corrosive walls of crumbling drone, and muted neoclassical flares tucked amidst deep blackened swells and slow swirling expanses of slow motion sprawl.�
LIMITED TO ONLY 111 COPIES!! Packaged in a slimline dvd style case with full color cover.
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Latest slab of guitar based whir and drift from these masters of the drone (they do in fact run the DRONE record label after all). Formerly Maeror Tri, Troum�embody the drone, they live, breathe, eat and sleep drones. And it shows. Their records are gorgeous and epic, but seem so effortless, as if the sounds they create are simply channeled through their corporeal forms, but have been created in some fiery forge at the center of an alien planet.�
The first half of this single still sounds like Troum, but is unlike anything we've heard from them, strange looped high end guitar, what sounds like backwards chords, almost choral vocals, dramatic and haunting and cinematic, very much like some super stylized horror movie music almost, warbled and wavery, over a distant grinding low end tone drifting way off in the background, washed over by epic sweeping swells..
The other side is a bit more raw and intense, a seriously corrosive guitarscape, distorted and crumbling chordal buzz, looped and layered into a strange glacial riff, strewn over deep dark swirls of slow shifting sound and haunting minor key melodies. It manages to be intense and fierce but also gloriously washed out and blissful.�
Super�swank, full color covers, full color inserts, and pressed on nice thick vinyl. And of course limited, just not sure -how- limited...
There's definitely a knack to crafting, moody, sweeping post rock epics, sure any one can string together a few minor key chords, add a little rhythmic shuffle and whip it all up into slow building crescendos, but much like drone music, or black metal, or anything really, it's not the being able to do it, it's the being able to do it in some super special way. To make it sound at once warm and familiar, but alien and challenging. That part is tough.
Richmond, Virginia's Tulsa Drone pull it off big time, with a sound that is epic and majestic, a gloomy, metal-tinged post rock Appalachia, mesmerizing, droney, slightly twangy, incredibly spacious, with a definite deserty vibe, due in no small part to the instrumentation. Sure the arrangements are ace, evoking all sorts of wide open vistas and barren landscapes, but the fact that these guys augment their bass / drums / guitars lineup with harmonica, slide guitar, theremin and most importantly (and uniquely) hammered dulcimer is what really seals the deal. We can't really even think of another rock band with a dulcimer player, but after spending some time with this disc, there sure as hell should be more. Lots more. The sound of that instrument is so organic, and meshes so well with the more traditional rock instruments, but is also weirdly buzzy and percussive, and has much to do with TD's unique sound.
Each song here is spacious, expansive, brooding, dreamy and lovely, with looping moody melodies, motorik rhythms, haunting harmonicas, wheezing out dusty distant textures, the drums simple but expressive, the guitar unfurling languid smokey melodies, lots of twang and shimmer, bit of Morricone for sure, the slower sultrier tracks sounding a bit like some Dirty Three post rock threnody, darkly dramatic, but with harmonica instead of violin. A few songs even feature vocals, but instead of mucking up a perfect instrumental record, they add another unique and gorgeously haunting element, the vocals, delivered in a deep Nick Cave like croon, wrapped in billowy reverb, only add to the mystery and moodiness of Tulsa Drone's windswept desert crawl. So good.
Finally, now you can not only proclaim your love for Andee's record label and all the killer bands who have released records on tUMULt: Weakling, Leviathan, Iran, Hammers Of Misfortune, Harvey Milk, Bathtub Shitter, Souled American, but also your disdain for all other bands! Or maybe just ALL bands...
This two button set features one button with the ubiquitous tUMULt upside down cross logo, a logo so heavy it seems to have slid down the button, to settle near the bottom, the other featuring the ever popular "I hate your band" legend printed all by its lonesome. Perfect as a non verbal response to the age old query "So, what did you think of my band" or even "How did you like the cd I gave you". Just point, and problem solved! So c'mon, represent!!
Both buttons are extra big too, not tiny band button sized, but also not huge weird soccer mom button size either, just a little bit bigger than your typical 1" button (they're 1.5" just so you know), so they're small enough to decorate your favorite denim vest or trucker hat or tube top, but big enough to make the rest of your buttons cower in terror! ----* ----* Selected New Arrivals : ----*
By now you probably realize, that it's easy to win us over with the right band name, at least initially. Fuck I'm Dead, Bathtub Shitter, Throne Of Blood... Tempting and tantalizingly teasing us with whatever weirdness may lurk inside. Often, it stops at the band name, as if in a single burst of creativity, the band came up with THE NAME, and then were forced to soldier on with the whole job of writing songs and recording a record, made even more difficult by the completely drained reservoir of creative juices.
So as always, we were immediately tickled by Uke Of Spaces Corners County, but then entered with a certain amount off trepidation, having been burned before. Thankfully, So Far On The Way was anything but a disappointment, in fact, if anything, not only did it manage to not disappoint, it also didn't sound anything like we expected.
It's on Corleone to begin with, home of Landed, The Body, Throne Of Blood, Mindflayer and plenty of soundfuckers, so we were sort of expecting something, noisy maybe, and there's the band name, but instead, UOSCC are some sort of folk music, damaged and what-the-fuck enough to seem right at home on Corleone, but undoubtedly folk music, of the freaked out, stumbling and strange weirdo outsider stripe that we dig so much.
The opener, "Dead Pens", is downright gorgeous, minor key distorted main riff, the vocals plaintive and emotional, lyrics appropriately bizarre and random, the track a convoluted crawl, peppered with sound FX and finishing off with a haphazard choir of back up vocalists. But for all its weirdness and musical damage, it's totally beautiful, like Bright Eyes on some brain melting cocktail of Thorazine and peyote...
Things continue on in the same druggy musical haze, on the verge of falling apart, but without losing any emotion or becoming any less catchy. From the distorted beat driven folky strum jam of "Today The Mirror", with it's strange staccato break down, and awesome juxtaposition of damaged drum machine sounding beat and steel string riff. To the hiss drenched Appalachia of "This Old World", an old timey classic transported direct from some a Southern homestead in the thirties, to some broken 4-track in a musty old warehouse in New Orleans today. And like all the tracks, it's the vocals again, tying it all together, soaring and crooning, sometime slipping into a haunting and wavering falsetto, cracking here and there, but always weaving a mysterious and powerful spell.
In some ways it reminds us of a less Brit obsessed Strapping Fieldhands, a lo-fi bedroom folk, strangely lush for all it's lo-fi-ness, and filtered through classic back porch twang, spacy reverb drenched drone guitar, sweet major key melodies, and of course random streaks and squalls of psychedelic noise, angular guitar scrape, splatters of percussion and random other bits of sonic detritus.
Something even freakier than all that freak folk, original, heartfelt, ramshackle, and so goddamn good.
Now available on vinyl for a limited time, this strange little moody ep From Norwegian horde Ulver, no black metal here though, this is later, the ambient electronic mysterious side of the band that created the grim blackbuzz classic Nattens Madrigal.
Red vinyl, printed inner sleeve. And of course super limited...
The title doesn't lie. This 2003 transmission from those Norwegian eccentrics Ulver consists of but four songs, a sampling of gothic glitch rock, the sad-synth-symphonic soundtrack to a ghost story left to you to imagine. The melodies and electronic beats give little clue to Ulver's origins as a vulpine black metal band, although the final track is in fact a rearrangement of a piece from their 1996 Kveldssanger opus, and makes an ominous, distortion-filled ending to the ep without altering the mood already set by the chamber strings and doleful male singing of the previous three tracks. With this ep, Ulver continue their ectoplasmic existence as a restless spirit that filters through many musical bodies, fully possessing none but leaving weird nightmares behind...
Hammers Of Misfortune fans strap yourselves in and get ready to bask Under Satan's Sun!
A while back, drummer and leader of the No Neck Blues Band, Dave Nuss, emailed us wanting to send us a copy of his new band's first record. He thought it was definitely something we would dig. We got it, threw it on, and were blown away. Big time! Classic, epic, blackened TRUE METAL, that definitely sounded a bit like local operatic metal heroes Hammers Of Misfortune. Well, we would later discover that not only did the band indeed LOVE and draw some of their inspiration from Hammers (one band member even sports a HoM shirt in the band photo), but they were in fact fronted by singing sisters from right here in San Francisco. Weird. But it sort of makes sense. SF's fertile metal scene has not only spawned Hammers, but helped nurture East Coast transplants Slough Feg, as well as spawning a whole bunch of bad ass metal bands like Weakling, Ludicra, Leviathan, Horn Of Dagoth, Asunder, we could go on and on. Needless to say, there is no wanting for metal around these parts. SO it makes perfect sense that two sisters from SF might go digging for likeminded metalheads in NYC. Who would have thought that some of those kindred spirits would be Nuss of No Neck and legendary underground painter Arik Mooonhawk Roper among others...?
Regardless of who or why or how, this is simply some seriously epic blackened true metal. Plenty of Sabbathisms abound, the riffs go from buzzing and blasting, to classic eighties crunch, with leads soaring, and some awesomely tangled Maidenesque harmonies, the drumming is powerful but simple. The songs are subtly catchy, epic and majestic, mysterious and classic. But as with most metal bands, it comes down to two things, the riffs, which here pretty much rule, and the vocals, which Under Satan's Sun have down cold, how could they not? Two female metalheads, one able to emit a hellish demonic screech, both able to croon in perfect harmony, occasionally weaving haunting Comus-y parts that totally captivate.�
The best tracks are the ones that sort of push the boundaries, taking the obvious Maiden / Sabbath / Hammers influences, and adding weird proggy workouts and haunting seventies folkiness, "Stand Up And Fight" and "Confessing A Murder" being the best examples, both total classics, the perfect blend of classic eighties metal, seventies style British electric folk, and modern blackened buzz.�
This should definitely hold you over until the next Hammers disc. Or at least until the next Under Satan's Sun record...
Somehow we missed out on the first volume of Peruvian stompers offered up by the always trustworthy Vampisoul label, but we're more then happy to just dive right in with volume two in their series collecting great Bugalu sounds out of Peru from the late '60s. Such a ripe moment in time for the sound of Bugalu to explode in South America and these 28 tracks offer a nonstop foot stomping snapshot of this golden-era of Bugalu fun. Nice vintage packaging with informative liner notes in both English and Spanish makes this a must have for anyone wanting to learn more about the late '60s music scene in Peru. So fun and colorful!
Oh man is this making us drool! Take two of the things we love most in the world: old school soul and little kids making their own music and bring them together and you have one of our new favorite compilations! The latest from the always righteous Numero Group is a collection of obscure kid groups from the early '70s who were whipping up some amazing soul and proving that there were way more new kids on the block belting out infectious songs then just the Jackson 5.
The Numero Group has done their homework with this one, digging through a forgotten history so rich and plentiful and just waiting for it's moment in the spotlight. Besides Jr & His Soulettes, the great Oklahoma brother and sister outfit we gushed about a few lists back, most of these kids of the '70s were completely unknown to us. Names like Patrizia & Jimmy, Otis The 3rd, or Cindy & The Playmates were never household names beyond their parents' house but damn did the kids on this compilation have some talent and crazy charm. The packaging and captivating liner notes accompany priceless photos of many of these kids in super soul action. Of course there is something novel, endearing and super cute about little kids making their own music but what makes this comp so great is that it all sounds so good! Vintage soul in lots of shapes and sizes from rambunctious stompers to silky serenades, these kids were dialed into the spirit of soul in a way that still sounds so pleasing to our ears.
Amazing compilation of lost folk and blues from this relatively new Northwestern label (even though they're called Mississippi), who apparently have tons more killer comps on deck and coming soon. We can hardly wait! But for now, we're perfectly pleased to just dig into this one (and the other new Mississippi release, the�Lipa Kodi Ya City Council comp of African music, reviewed elsewhere on this list), a gorgeous chunk of dusty, sepia toned old timey blues, recorded between the years�1927-1948, all of it fantastic. Like a modern day Folkways, Mississippi has gathered up a gorgeous and varied collection of lost music, from campfire fiddles, to tap dance rhythms, to smokey night club joints, to brassy big band, to amazing yodeling, to Latin flavored rhythm and blues, to back porch stomps, to soft and shimmery crooned blues, it's all fantastic, the recordings raw and emotional, immediate, fuzzy and lo-fi, straight from the original 78's. Absolutely essential. The perfect vinyl addendum to your Smithsonian Folkways'�Anthology of American Folk Music box set.�
Yet another amazing compilation from this Northwestern reissue label. Mississippi, in addition to the bad ass blues and folk comp�I Don't Feel At Home In This World Anymore 1927-1948 reviewed elsewhere on this list, also compiled this amazing collection of rare R+B, pop, high life, juju and choral music from Africa. Mali, Somalia, Kenya, Zambia, even Sierra Leone...
The comp opens with the most wicked slice of down and dirty afro funk you will ever hear. Super funky, hot and sweaty afro soul supreme. Dense propulsive funky drumming, killer old soul jangle riffs, and growled and crooned, sexed up vocals, complete with JB style "HEY!"s... So intense and emotional and irresistible. Nothing else on the comp is as wild or as funky, but it's all amazing. Crooned ballads with simple shuffling rhythms, fluttery flutes and a deep warm velvety voice, festive joyous celebratory jams, with wildly strummed guitars, lush vocal harmonies, wild percussion, dark languorous afroblues, every track here is a gem, some funky and upbeat, others moody and mellow, so fantastic. Fans of the Ethiopiques comps, the recently reviewed Yaala Yaala releases, that killer�Ghana Soundz collection, and the�Afro Funk Explosion comp, heck, if you love this stuff the way we do, then you NEED this.�
All handmade packaging, recycled record sleeves with pasted on front and back covers. Nice.�
Yo droids! You wanna know what's been boomin' on Pluto lately? It's gotta be skweee. Y'know here at Aquarius we're always on the lookout for something new, the next big thing perhaps (though we're talking big 'round here, not necessarily elsewhere). Well we think we've found it! SKWEEE. Skweee? That's the self-proclaimed name for a new scene of electronic music in Scandinavia. It's basically Nordic b-boys doing DIY electro, and it's true, if they hadn't called it skweee but something less silly like, uh, "Scandi-funk" or "Vikinglectro", we might have not been as initially intrigued, though we did already have an interest in electro from Finland 'cause of that Sound Of Suomi comp we listed a while back. Something about "skweee" though just grabs us. You don't have to like bad puns to like skweee but it helps. Hey what are you doing this skweeekend? There's a skweee show Saturday skweeevening. Some of our favorite skweeejays will be spinning. Skweee you there!
We kind of randomly found out about it on the internet, listened in to some online samples on the "Nation of Skweee" webpage, and were hooked. Imagine a warped crossover between old school video game music and '90s hiphop instrumental tracks, that laidback Dr. Dre style funk as if hacked on a Commodore 64, programmed by Finnish and Norwegian kids trying to stave off the boredom and depression of long sunlight-deprived winters (as opposed to embracing it like their countryfolk into black metal would do). There's an obscure but active scene up in that part of the world skweeepin' it real with the support of a couple local labels, Harmonia and Flogsta Danshall, releasing the skweee on 7" and 12" singles. We did discover this one compact disc compilation that Flogsta Danshall put out, and figured we had to get it, it features a lot of the "stars" of skweee and obviously would be a good starting point for us, and any AQ customers who wanted to get turned on to skweee. And funnily enough, the guy from Flogsta Danshall had previously been to Aquarius on a trip to the USA, so he was himself excited that we wanted to stock some skweee in our shop!
Here's the artists: Mesak, Pavan, Rigas Den Andre, Beem, The Munchies, Randy Barracuda, Wizards of DOS, PJVM, Mangrove, Uday, Vakttornet, Daniel Savio, Maja Hedin, and Claws Costeau (great name!). Although each one's different, there's a definite "skweee ID" shared between 'em: elements like distorted squelching synthetic bass, computery bloops and bleeps, fractured funk beats, crazed dance logic, and what's either a playful sense of humor or just plain weirdness. Or both. Some tracks (say, Pavan) are a bit more uptight techno-rigid kraftwerkouts than others, which skweee like along with the looser, more fucked up cuts (like Randy Barracuda's which sounds like Inspector Gadget done Doug E. Fresh style or somethin').
The Museum Of Future Sound exhibits 14 trax, 54+ minutes of the finest in skweee, packaged in a thin, square, black plastic cd case, with simple, stark black & white cover graphics and a tracklisting on stickers affixed to the front and back. No further info is given about any of the contributors, unfortunately, so they stay mysterious... but they probably all have MySpace pages and would love to get visitors!
Next big thing? Could skweee. We'll skweee.
Marking their 10 year anniversary as THE purveyor of quaint, vintage, obscure and unflinchingly British ear candy, Trunk Records has released a splendid compilation of the cream from *most* of their best releases from the past decade. Most is the key word here as three of their best releases, the awesome soundtracks to "The Wicker Man", "Psychomania", and the unreleased film music of "Dawn of The Dead" are not represented. But Trunk has always been a mixed bag label, and odd horror scores were only one facet of their obsession, the others being pastoral jazz, long forgotten children's songs, off-kilter ad jingles, library music, documentary film scores, and cosmically avant-garde electronic compositions. If you were curious about any of their past releases such as the Fuzzy Felt Folk compilation of obscure children's folk, or the Sven Libaek anthology of underwater documentary soundtracks, or the Michael Garrick Trio's lost cosmic jazz, or any of Basil Kirchan's sublimely eccentric compositions (all of the above are awesome BTW!) but wary to commit to a full album then this compilation might be a smoother introduction to Trunk's unusual tastes. What's even better is that 7 of the 22 tracks are previously unreleased with inclusions from Delia Derbyshire, Herbie Hancock, Douglas Wood and Paul Lewis. Please note that the sound samples are from the unreleased selections because many of the Trunk releases we had already thoroughly reviewed, so if you are curious about what Michael Garrick, Sven Libaek or the Fuzzy Felt Folk comp sounds like, check out the reviews and samples elsewhere on our site. They are all worth your time. Congrats Trunk!
"Tribute" compilations generally get a well-deserved bad rap, they're maybe a rung or two removed from string quartet versions and bluegrass covers on the ladder of uselessness, generally cheap cash-ins by a bunch of nobodies on some else's success. Or, for cult artists, not a cash-in, but a collection of fanboy loveletters also by a bunch of nobodies. But then there ARE always a few exceptions, we have a few faves in the category, some guilty pleasures perhaps but nonetheless faves: Darkthrone, Holy Darkthrone. Blue Explosion. Painted Black. The Great Koonaklaster Speaks. Powerslaves. Hmm, actually there's quite a lot of tribute comps we like. And you can add this to the pile, Silver Monk Time: A Tribute To The Monks. How can that not be cool? Especially when you eyeball the tracklist and see that the eclectic lineup ain't a bunch of nobodies, no sir. Try Mouse On Mars, Alec Empire (with original Monk Gary Burger), The Gossip, the Silver Apples w/ Alan Vega of Suicide, The Fall, Faust (also with Gary Burger), Barbara Manning, Psychic TV, Jason Forrest, The Raincoats, and and 19 others, filling up 2 cds. Sure there's some names on here we haven't heard of before (Doc Schoko, Fehlifarben, Floating Di Morel, and Singapore Sling, ferinstance) but then again, not everybody's heard of The Monks, either. We'll assume you have, and won't spend time explaining what an amazing, ahead of their time band they were: American GIs in '60s Germany, dressed up in monks robes with tonsures, playing the wildest punk rock ever recorded up 'til that point in history, and some years beyond...with banjo! The varied covers here have one thing in common, besides a reverence for the Monks. They all demonstrate that the songs of the Monks, as well as their style and delivery, were unique and insane, unhinged pop subversion still exciting and weird today. If this IS your introduction to the Monks, that's interesting for us to imagine... and please check out Black Monk Time if you haven't heard it!
Apparently this was put together in connection with an upcoming Monks documentary film, can't wait to see it!!
There are not many things in this world you can count on, so it's so damn comforting to know that every time Soul Jazz puts together a compilation from the vaults of Studio One the results are going to be golden! Volume 3 in the Studio One Roots series has been blazing us with its warmth. Wow, did they know how to capture raw and soul melting melodies inside Clement Dodd's studio. What's also so telling about this and all of the Studio One compilations is how strong quality control was inside Dodd's studio. There just doesn't seem to be any duds or lackluster performances. Anyone with an affinity for roots reggae will find much to love on this collection but we also really think people who have never thought of themselves as big reggae-heads should check this out as it really is the cream of the crop, and what often gets overlooked in this heyday of Studio One recordings is how great the songwriting is. The duel influence of American doo-wop and soul with the African tradition of Burru rhythms made for a sound oozing with conviction and sensuality. Another stellar collection from the goldmine of Studio One.
Here we have the eighth installment of the Kompakt compilation series. And it completely kicks ass. As we've mentioned before, and received a bunch of flak for it, a bunch of us don't really dig straight up techno that much. Leaning toward the murky pulse of Chain Reaction, or the shoe gaze-y bliss of Kompakt's Pop Ambient side. But damn, if there was ever a label, or a collection of artists, or just a SOUND, that might change our minds, it would be Kompakt. Even the most technophobic among us, find ourselves loving pretty much everything these guys have released. The Total series, now on number 8, is consistently killer, offering up tracks that cover Kompakt's expansive sonic universe, from pounding club bangers, classic dancefloor destroyers, murky minimal pulses, strangely straight ahead techno pop, and everything in between, all sharing a special something, a vibe that runs through everything Kompakt. More warm and emotional that it is clinical and robotic, but still so mysteriously groovy and futuristic. Every time this plays in the store, folks are constantly coming out from the back to see what's playing.
Total 8 might just be the best yet, certainly the most varied, with not a stinker in the bunch, which is saying a lot for a double cd compilation. From the cool space age skitter of Superpitcher's "Rainy Nights In Georgia" to the Nightcats' Justice via Fischerspooner, bass heavy, fuzz drenched throb, to the dreamy Euro pop of Rex The Dog, to the alien Kraftwerk worship of Steadycam and that's just to name a few. Anyone who loved the recent record by The Field as much as we did, will go nuts for this stuff, two discs packed with so many new (and not so new) bands to check out and records to track down.
This is the kind of music that makes us want to do a ton of drugs, rent a motorcycle in Berlin, jam down the Autobahn at 200 miles per hour, blasting this shit at 10, all the way to the airport where we will board a private plane, filled with foam and Gui Boratto on the decks, more drugs, and slow strobes everywhere, headed to Ibiza, where we will continue to jam this shit, and not sleep for 5 days. Or maybe forever. WAY recomended.
Last year was a rich one for some amazing Tropicalia reissues and rediscoveries of long lost classics. Whether it was the first five Os Mutantes records or classics by Gilberto Gil and Caetano Veloso or more obscure gems from Luiz Eca, Som Imaginario, Rubinho E Mauro and maybe our favorite of the bunch the collaboration between Alceu Valenca and Geraldo Azevedo. Valenca's beautiful and mystifying vocal delivery and songwriting had us so hooked as that record became one of our most listened to treasures of last year. So of course we've been doing everything in our power to get our hands on more primo Valenca recordings and this one, recorded in 1974 is definitely another solid gold gem. A little more rocking and charged then the record with Azevedo, Mollhado De Suor shows a more extroverted side to Valenca, but still exploring a nice wide range of sounds, which is one of the things we love so much about Valenca. One song he is rocking and all you want to do is jump around in the grass and follow him wherever he decides to go, while the next song might be dreamier and more pastoral, painting him as an artist as comfortable with introspection as he is with bold and upfront fire. That might sound sort of like a modern day songwriter we love lots as well, Devendra Banhart. In fact last time Devendra was in the store he bought a copy of the Valenca & Azevedo cd and we have a feeling that he's been listening to lots of Alceu's recordings lately as a sneak peak listen to his forthcoming record made abundantly clear.
On Mollhado De Suor, Valenca is backed by some of the greats in the Brazilian scene of that time, Geraldo Azevedo actually appears on this record too, playing craviola and Brazilian acoustic guitar and AQ fave Lula Cortes is also in the mix playing dulcimer on most of the record. Another 70's gem from Brazil that demands your ears' attention!
Issue #33 of this mag for, about and by gals is the DIY Special. It has features on M.I.A., Rilo Kiley, Deborah Harry, Office, Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings, as well as smaller bits on Gogol Bordello, Juliette Lewis, arts'n'crafts, fashion, and a heap of music reviews including one for Jenny Hoyston's new album Isle Of written by Jenny Hoyston herself.
Finally! A full length proper cd release from this UK troubadour. After going on a bit in our review of VOTSW's most recent cassette release (the only release we'd ever been able to get in sufficient number to list) we were pretty thrilled to have this cd show up last week, and we've been playing it non-stop ever since. There were a couple surprises in store for us though...
The first being that it was released on Finders Keepers / B-Music, a label more well known for its strange reissues of lost classics, and who in the past have brought us records from Selda, Mustafa Ozkent, Susan Christie as well as all time AQ faves like Valerie And Her Week Of Wonders, the Welsh Rare Beat comp and of course Jean Claude Vannnier's L'Enfant Assassin Des Mouches... It all makes a bit more sense when you realize VOTSW, aka Rick Tomlinson, had in the past recorded for Twisted Nerve in the UK, which happens to be part of the same family of labels. The other big surprise, is that where as past VOTSW releases have been mostly guitar, dark Appalachia, drawn out drone-y ragas, steel string guitar plucked and strummed, buzzing gorgeously over distant drones, falling sonically between Jack Rose and James Blackshaw, this disc is all over the map, expansive and epic. VOTSW is now expanded to a three piece, incorporating electric bass, violin, piano, drums, along with the usual guitar, sitar, oud, and it sounds like it. This is lush and produced, a gorgeous rich tapestry of sound.
The root is still that buzzing guitar, but here it's surrounded by all sorts of different sonic filigree. The first track begins much like past Voice Of The Seven Woods recordings, a steel string guitar, strummed and picked, a buzzing tangle of notes, a dreamy disembodied twang, but a few minutes in, the band joins in, propulsive percussion, a throbbing pulsing second guitar/bass, the whole thing sounding like some strange krautrock folk, perfectly seguing into the next number, an intense buzzing wild gypsy folk jam, brief but so exhilarating. Then there's the funky effected Bollywood psychrock buzz of "The Fire In My Head", totally freaked out and acid drenched, lots of buzz and strange affected melodies, and a definite sixties funk groove. A few songs later, the super blown out, backwards guitar drenched, acid rock psych jam of "Second Transition", then a song or two after that, a super muddy murky hippy jam, all loping distorted drums, distant strum and wailing crumbling blown speaker leads sprawling all over the place, and near the end of the record, the propulsive acoustic kraut rock soundtracky jam of "Return From Byzantium", gorgeously epic, the drums wild and relentless, the guitars buzzing and droning and locked together as if they could go on forever, all of these sonic excursions separated and peppered with long luxurious stretches of gorgeous languid Appalachian buzz and minor key finger picking, delicate folk flutter, and that oh so warm and familiar buzz and twang.
Not at all what we were expecting, but all the better for it! Definitely stuff that if it was on some vintage vinyl, would have the B-music DJs drooling. Essential listening for adventurous lovers of classic folk, sixties psych and obviously for all you far out freak folks...
A brand new, super limited head to head meeting between these two sonically similar underground noisemakers, trafficking in the dronier dreamier side of modern abstract 'noise'...
Warmth are up first, and deliver a murky chunk of melodic drone, like some classic pop song, that had been transferred from tape to tape about a thousand times, before being dubbed onto a 20 year old cassette left in the glove compartment of your car for the last decade, then played back at the wrong speed, a gloriously lugubrious glacial crawl, the muted melody pulsing beneath a constantly shifting sonic sea of low end thrum, distant field recordings and washed out hiss and buzz.
Robe counter with a sonically similar chunk of sound, haunting and playful at the same time, muddy melodies, and what sounds like horns, it actually sounds like some Carl Stalling cartoon music played at 16rpm, warbly and off kilter, murky and blurry, a drawled moonlit soundscape of twisted smeared ambience, muffled percussion, and mysteriously fragmented melodies.
Packaged in a super elaborate multi paneled sleeve, printed with metallic silver ink on black, sealed with a black wax seal and including a purple and black on black insert.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!!
Another dreamy slab of sonic loveliness from Australian label Hidden Shoal (along with the Sankt Otten reviewed elsewhere on this list). We're so psyched to finally have copies of this to list, but it wasn't as simple as just ordering 'em, it took a lot of doing to get these into AQ (or to get them to physically exist at all), what are we talking about? Just read on...
So this has actually happened to us a few times, which either speaks to our naivete, or as we prefer to think a dogged belief in the record album as object, to be held, listened to and loved, and an inability to understand any thoughts to the contrary. Australia's Hidden Shoal Records got in touch with us and was hoping we would check out some of their bands, we did, and got all excited about carrying them at AQ. Until, after we emailed and tried to order some, we were regretfully informed that Hidden Shoal was in fact a digital only label, no lps, no cds, no cassettes, just MP3's. Too bad we thought, as far as we were concerned, though of course we know there are those perfectly happy to download some MP3's. But over the course of many months, and lots of emails back and forth, the label admitted to being interested in actually pressing up cds. We of course encouraged them, because we wanted all our customers to be able to buy and hear this music, but also, because, there's something about the object, the cd or the lp or the 7", the liner notes, looking through the booklet while listening to the music, the feel, even the smell. And sure, it IS all about the music, but that other stuff is part of it too, no matter how much iTunes wants us to think otherwise. Obviously most of you don't need to be told that, otherwise you'd probably not be reading this.
Well, the upshot is, two of our favorite recordings on Hidden Shoal, are now finally available on cd, well, cd-r actually. But they are professionally pressed, with full color artwork, printed artwork on the disc, and heck, we'll take cd-r's over MP3s any day. And lots of you seem to prefer cd-r's anyway...
It's strange that we went through all that, and convinced a label in a far away land, to press cds, so we could finally get copies of a cd by a performer who lives RIGHT DOWN THE STREET from aQuarius, but that's precisely what happened. This disc, and the other Hidden Shoal release by German outfit Sankt Otten, reviewed elsewhere on the list, were hand delivered, by our neighbor, Mr. Willenbring himself. But so what if it wasn't the most direct route, all that work was well worth it.
Willenbring employs a piano and a guitar, but for the most part you'd never know it, as most of the tracks here are huge slow moving sheets of pure sound, blurred and abstract. Even the ones that do start with bits of piano, or offer up bits of strum and twang, gradually become more and more washed out, gorgeous wet windshield smears, sparkling with muted colors, glistening and glimmering, it's the music of light reflecting off wet pavement, the sound of trees heavy with snow and ice, of home movies of long car trips, of out of focus landscapes from the past. Melodies that creep and drift, gradually growing heavier and heavier, the clouds gathering, until it's a slow drive through thick fog, shapes and sounds barely visible. But it's those glimpses of piano, or fragments of guitar that ground the music on Somewhere Someone Else, keep it from being "dronemusic", imbue it with warmth, emotion, hidden melody, dark secrets, the songs may end up adrift on a glimmering black sea, but they began on the shore, within site of home and family, gradually moving farther and farther away, the familiar fading away, slipping slowly into the unknown.
Absolutely gorgeous. Dreamy dark meandering melancholia for fans of Stars Of The Lid, Eluvium, Dead Texan, Tim Hecker, Godspeed and other purveyors of darkly dramatic, abstract moody minimalism...
Basically, if you read our list, you should also probably read The Wire. This UK magazine of "adventures in modern music" is a monthly must read for all of us here at AQ (and not just 'cause our Jim Haynes writes a column of "Outer Limits" reviews now and then, as in this ish).
On the cover of #283: the redoubtable PJ Harvey. Also inside: Oren Ambarchi, Sir Richard Bishop (doing the Invisible Jukebox), Daft Punk, and the Starving Weirdos, among others -- definitely an AQ crowd, eh? Plus all the usual reviews, columns, charts, etc.
From right here in our sunny San Francisco neighborhood, comes an eagerly anticipated new release that clinches its Record Of The Week status not only by comprising a fantastic debut full-length album of hypnotically searing garagey psych jams, but also by including a BONUS disc (limited edition, first 2000 copies only) in a cardboard sleeve shrinkwrapped to the jewel case, featuring all the tracks from the now-out-of-print 10" and 7" vinyl records released last year that first made us -- and so many others, foremost among 'em Tom Lax of Siltbreeze/Siltblog fame, and Byron Coley at The Wire -- into drooling Wooden Shjips fanatics.
And yes, if you haven't run into them before, it's Wooden ShJips with a J, that's not a typo, just a way we guess of making their moniker more psychedelic (and easier to Google, too). They've garnered a lot of deserved attention from folks into minimalistic psych throb, that's for sure, and further whetted everyone's appetites for this album with the "Summer Of Love" 7" single that came out a couple weeks ago and has already sold out (2nd pressing in the works, be patient).
So, this new self-titled album follows on from that single with five more fuzzy, super groovy, guitar/organ/bass/drums slowburners, somewhere between Comets On Fire and Circle, with a definite Doors-y vibe as well, in part due to the keys which give this an almost loungey relaxed feel at times, and in part due to the occasional laidback Morrison-ish vocals of guitarist Erik Johnson. Erik also makes us think of Neil Young as well, as his more "out" guitar solos -- some if 'em SCORCHING -- could be off of Young's feedback-filled Arc. Or a Les Rallizes Denudes record! Track four, "Blue Sky Bends", having the best Rallizes-ish drone-factor of the disc. Overall, we'd say that these tracks, as a development from their earlier material, exhibits more and more of a throwback to the ballroom Frisco style of the sixties... now they just need to get a light show happening! But something tells us they'd be all about stark bright white strobes and dark black shadows only, maybe some b&w op art spirals, if their monochrome packaging aesthetic and the general heavy lidded mood of the music is anything to go by...
And then there's the limited bonus disc. Don't dawdle, you don't want to miss it (particularly if you didn't score the original vinyl releases). It's got the three tracks from their debut Shrinking Moon For You 10" (the one that they didn't even tell us about even though we see these guys on the street every day, we had to find out about it from Mr. Lax's blog!) and both cuts from their Dance, California / Clouds Over Earthquake 7". We'll try to summarize what we said about these songs before. The music from the 10" starts off with the title cut, a fuzzy garagey stomp, a groove that locks in and plows forward relentlessly. We began to feel like we were listening to some sort of garage rock Steve Reich. Guitars just sort of buzzing along, blooping new wave bass right underneath, simple solid drumming. But then in swoops some super feedback guitar that sounds like a demented horn section, and before you can examine it more closely it disappears, and we're back to the groove. That happens a few more times before the vocals kick in, sort of sing songy, but SO drenched in delay that the words get all jumbled up and are sort of jettisoned into outer space. There is also a subtle wash of fuzzy keyboards giving the whole thing a sort of Loop vibe. the second track is quite similar except the vocals are a bit more distinct, sort of laidback and mumbly. After a few listens, it became clear that there is some sort of minimal thing going on, but it's more like some lost Velvet Underground track arranged for Reich and Riley. Droney and drifty and druggy and totally mesmerizing. The third track bucks the trend and instead veers off into some tripped out ambience, with drifting motes of guitar fuckery, random sounds and noises, and some cool creepy backwards vocals. Sort of like an indie hipster freenoise "Revolution #9." Cool.
The two tracks from the 7" are also quite sonically similar to the 10" cuts. First up, surprise surprise a buzzy lo-fi garage groove, beneath bizarre super distorted insectoid guitar leads, buzzing WAY up in the mix and sounding almost like some primitive malfunctioning synth. But the whole time, beneath the alien buzz, the groove just hums along, like some extra baked Velvet Underground outtake. "Clouds Over Earthquake" is way more laid back, some blown out sun baked riffage, a super lazy groove, like Loop played at 16rpm, decorated with warm hornlike melodies that eventually stretch out into some serious outerspace psych rock explorations. The vocals we loved so much on the 10" resurface here too, laconic, drawled sung/spoken and super affected, very Lou Reed sounding albeit buried way down in the mix and absolutely drenched in thick reverb and fuzzy delay. Awesome!
So those tracks are all here (not in that order though) along with a radio edit of "Dance, California" for completists. These are the songs that had us jonesing for a full length, which you've just read about up above, and now all this music is together in one crucial package, while they last.
FYI, a vinyl version of the full-length is to follow in a month or two we're told... and maybe Holy Mountain can come up with some better cover art for it too? We were a bit underwhelmed by the blurry black & white photo of the band sitting around on the steps to someone's house, but then again their vinyl releases were in clear sleeves with no art to speak of, so I guess elaborate packaging ain't their thing. But motorik minimalist krautrocky pulsations, mellow Doorsy '60s groove, and out and out geetar psych-splosions are, so we can't complain!!
