All right, gonna wrap up the Kiss reviewing, for a little while anyway. Talkin' this week about not one, but THREE Kiss classics: Hotter Than Hell (1974), Dressed To Kill (1975), and Rock And Roll Over (1976). With these three reviewed, that means we will have covered all the Kiss studio albums up through 1981's Music From The Elder, except the universally loathed Unmasked... which might be for the best. (Crucial albums Alive I and II also remain to be reviewed.)
I don't mean to give any of these three short shrift by doing 'em briefly all together, it's just that lengthy reviews might not really be necessary. So, to begin: Hotter Than Hell, Kiss's second album, followed up their self-titled debut with another strong collection of songs, perhaps chief among them the heavy headbanging groove of Ace's "Parasite" (later covered by Anthrax) and the majestic lecherous lament of Gene's "Goin' Blind" (later covered by the Melvins). Meanwhile, tracks like "Let Me Go, Rock And Roll", "All The Way", and the title track are ones to crank come party-time. Actually the whole record is pretty much a rockin', rollin' barn-burner, aside from the aforementioned dirgey "Goin' Blind", and also album-ender "Strange Ways", whose lyrics and metallic plod have a sinister vibe that could weird out some partygoers. Cool though! Really, nothin' in they way of weak ones here, though maybe Paul's opener "Got To Choose" will be a bit too Bad Company sounding for some. Hotter Than Hell is an accurate album title I've gotta say, though it's too bad it didn't get the production job it deserved.
Next up, Kiss platter number 3, Dressed To Kill. There's a bunch of fairly poppy, finger snapping, boot-stomping hard rockers on here, Kiss again (almost) reminding us of the MC5 circa Back In The USA on opener "Room Service"... The immortal hits from this album include the Stonesy "C'mon And Love Me", mission statement "Rock And Roll All Night" (which you've probably heard a few million times too many), and "She", which lumbers a heckuva lot like BoC's "Godzilla". They go all flowery and acoustic for the first half of one song, but snap out of it in time to kick some ass ("Rock Bottom"). Incipient self-parody may be noticeable here, with groupie-themed lyrics and rock n' roll anthems making soon-to-be predictable appearances, but that's ok, some of my favorite Kiss albums later on are ALL self-parody and none the worse for it.
And then we skip ahead ('cause I've already reviewed the intervening Destroyer) to Rock And Roll Over, which fits in between the big D and Love Gun as their 5th studio album. This one starts off with one of my very favorite Kiss songs EVER, "I Want You", with its deceptively pretty n' sweet melodic intro immediately bursting into godlike amps-on-11, chest-thumping heavy metal riff rock that's about as catchy as it gets. Lyrically, it's the lustful essence of Kiss. But is Paul singing romantically about a longtime love, or rather more sleazily about the blonde in the third row, center, who just caught his eye? Probably the latter. Gene's "Calling Dr. Love" was another hit here, and definitely meant for that blonde... in fact, not just her, but all the willing ladies in the audience, no doubt!
What else? Peter sings an acoustic ballady number that's not too bad, "Hard Luck Woman", likely intended as this album's "Beth" (the sensitive, surprise hit he had on Destroyer, though this time, Paul wrote the song). Otherwise, not too much to say. "Take Me", "Love 'Em And Leave 'Em", "Makin' Love", "Mr. Speed", etc., it's all decent enuff Kiss stuff but nothing really stands out for me. Well, dumbest one "Ladies Room" maybe stands out, but not in a good way. But, dumb or not, Kiss knows what they're doing, and you'll be singing along to lots of Rock And Roll Over before it's over. And besides, it's got "I Want You"!
Ok, with these three albums, maybe that's all the Kiss we'll be reviewing for a while. Whew! But I'll start another series of reviews of another overlooked (by AQ) band, next time...
"Organic free metal from Malaysia" is what we had heard about Klangmutationen. Wow, really? Utech doesn't provide much information at all about this band, other than to describe them as a "mystery" (how helpful), and compare their music to the work of outside '70s free improv artists from Europe (the FMP label) and Japan (Masayuki Takayangi, Kaoru Abe). We're also told that this mysterious group hails from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Do we believe it? Maybe. We'd like to.
Certainly their music has a dark, strange vibe - literally, vibrations - cycles of low-end droning, sounding like giant metal springs being vibrated... or more likely, electric guitars, detuned. Strings/springs flapping loosely, arcing with electricity. Weird and atmospheric. Like Harry Bertoia meets Caspar Brotzmann!?
That's the first track (2:19) and part of the second into which it flows (25:05). But before long, the lengthy track two develops a serious case of screaming, saxophone/flute/clarinet skree, definitely giving some skronked-out substance to those free jazz comparisons. It's pretty intense and extreme, right on for those into Rudolph Grey's Blue Humans, John Zorn's Painkiller, Peter Brotzmann, Charles Gayle, Arthur Doyle, Albert Ayler, cats like that... yet it's definitely not, y'know, jazz. More like "jazz" for fans of SUNNO))) and Aufgehoben... or drone music for fans of Borbetomagus. Dense and distorted, this is the sound of plunging into the abyss, with a witches' chorus of reed-squealing cacophony as company.
The third track, clocking in at 19:42, is almost as much of a juggernaut. More whale-call feedback guitar grind, murk and moodiness. And then this disc comes to a close with the brief (1:58), relatively quiet caresses of fourth, final track. An eerie, wispy coda that could be the soundtrack music heard as a landing party from TV's Star Trek beams down to some strange, oddly lit world... and they should be glad they don't have to face whatever alien threats the album's earlier tracks would provide cues for!
Curious stuff, this Klangmutationen. Heavy too. We're enjoying repeat spins of this disc, and also should mention we have another release of theirs, yet to be reviewed - an LP on the Holy Mountain label (which affiliation in itself is a recommendation).
Pretty much every metalhead in SF went to see Carcass at the Grand Ballroom the other night (in fact, we were joking that a well placed incendiary device could have wiped out the entire scene in one fell swoop). And yeah, of course Carcass destroyed, but the very same night, all the way across town, a band called Kowloon Walled City were faced with the daunting task of laying waste to a room not exactly full of the few metalheads who for whatever reason were not at the Carcass show.
And listening to this, the debut release from this SF foursome, we'd be hard pressed to say that the folks at Carcass, ourselves included, didn't miss out on something serious. Thankfully, unlike Carcass, KWC are a going concern, so we'll get another chance, but until then, get a load of this five song ep, of fierce, furious, crushing heaviness. Think Unsane, old Helmet, the Melvins, Buzzov-en, Neurosis of course, this is some seriously heavy shit. The guitars massive and downtuned, a relentless sea of roiling chug and churn, the drums dense and pounding, the vocals a throat shredding howl. The AmRep vibe is all over these songs, the sound incredibly thick and corrosive, the rhythms alternatingly pounding and lurching, most often settling into a lumbering almost-groove, the melodies buried amidst the crunch and rumble, sometimes surfacing as the band slips into something more dynamic, letting the guitars moan and keen, the drums getting all spacious, sheets of Eyehategod style feedback, a weirdly doomy sort of abstract sludge, before slipping back into a furious grinding metallic crush. Pretty fucking excellent, and definitely has us looking forward to finally seeing what we missed that fateful night.
The vinyl is limited to 300 copies, and is pressed on cool swirled red and black vinyl. The cd-r is limited to 100 copies, packaged in super nice, silkscreened cardstock style sleeves with a printed insert, each one hand numbered.
With this release, S-S Records brings us a reissue of two 12"s by German band Krysmopompas. The plastic sleeve has a sticker referencing "neue Deutsche welle and krautrock with Wire-like minimalism." Well said, although we're not going to make it quite so reductive. Bands like Der KFC, Abwarts, and Freiwillige Selbstkontrolle definitely deserve mention, and maybe even a little Art Brut minus the slappy irony. Although, these guys' sense of melody is much more restrained than the latter, with simplistic structures rooted in repetition and sparse application. That's pretty much where the German new wave thing comes in. Anyway, the early '80s can be a little confusing given that there were so many newly emerging and intermingling genres, (even though Krysmopompas are actually contemporary) but if we had to try and explain a little more then we'd say that this is somewhere between post-punk and punk influenced new (or cold) wave. But closer to the punk side of things. And there's not really much synth. We read somewhere that they were "post-post," and while we're not entirely sure what that means, it kinda makes sense. Things could always be a little weirder and we wouldn't complain, but this fits very nicely next to compilations like IVG, BIPP, B9 Belgian Cold Wave, or even Des Jeunes Gens Modernes. If, like us, you can get into that, then this is for you! Maybe it helps shed light on things pointing out that S-S Records was also responsible for putting out music by A-Frames and Monoshock, two more excellent, crazy post-punk-what-the-fuck bands.
It would be difficult to say that Lindstrom has finally come into his own, but it's really not his fault. Given the retro-modern angle of his entire project, it's not really even a good or bad thing. The sounds, the composition, the melodic structures, they're all questionably '80s. Not '80s like Giorgio Moroder or Daniele Baldelli - as most commonly referenced, but more like a blend of Jan Hammer, Rick Astley, and, like, Paul Lekakis? Sure, a little John Carpenter even. If you can overlook all the kitsch, the bizarre nostalgia for music that may or may not have really been necessary, then Lindstrom is your guy. This particular release shows him both more minimal and more maximal, restrained and indulgent. Each of the three tracks unfold slowly, releasing one arpeggiation after another, deftly resting upon various analog drum sounds and sampled percussive devices. The production is great as usual, and no doubt the guy must have an impressive collection of vintage synths, etc. So far as songwriting, it's suspiciously absent. As with the majority of his releases, the focus is on process, development, and a definite amount of abandon as a listener. Just sitting back and seeing where he wants to take you, which is more often than not just some '80s soundtrack. Sure, "I Feel Space" was a great track, and undoubtedly helped to spark the fairly recent explosion of space disco and gave people a strange justification to somehow openly talk about Todd Rundgren as a musical hero, or something. However, the promise of that single has largely fallen flat. Truth be told, this release is a better than his usual fare, but not really essential for anyone other than completists or huge fans.
Merch is the perfect name for this young DIY pop-punk outfit of local transplants from Fresno, California who have been rocking the all-ages scene with their infectiously hook-y lo-fi power anthems. Made even more off-kilter due to their unique use of cello and banjo as well as electric guitar as lead instruments, this reminds us at times of early Pavement, Camper Van Beethoven and Guided By Voices, but done in a way that feels like more of their own making rather than deliberately mining similar sonic influences. A fine debut that makes great use of its rough-around-the-edges production with fun catchy songs that stay with us long after they're over. Cool!
While our Japanese section at AQ is known for its loud & noisy disposition, we know that there's another side to the wonderful sounds coming out of Japan and this record by Miko is some of the best shoegaze dream pop we've heard from -anywhere- in ages!
Like an amazing combination of everything we loved about The Softies and the first couple records by Mum, Miko uses electronics with such a tender and warm touch while crafting songs that Tujiko Noriko might make if she was on Too Pure or Creation. Swirling melodies that can be both hypnotic and playful, daydream vocals that transport us into wide open blue skies with the most lovely and fluffy soft clouds to roll around in.
What makes Parade such a special record is that unlike so much other dreampop that tends to become a bit monotonous over a whole album, there is enough variety, and really well paced, well crafted songwriting here that the record manages to always be enthralling and intriguing yet never too busy, never distracting from the ultimate beauty of these songs. The album makes us wish we could astrally transport ourselves to the Japanese countryside, floating over rolling hills of lush green grass where Miko plays her breathtaking songs, as we lay on our backs staring into the sky, as the wind takes us wherever it wants. So beautiful!
Boy, this is a strange one. Not your standard old tyme fare, Polk Miller was a rare figure in the world of early American musical theater. Born in Virginia, and a Civil War veteran who fought for the South, he dropped a lucrative pharmaceutical and veterinarian medicine career (he created the first pet-care products for what would become Sargent) to follow his musical dream, leading a traveling all-black singing group, playing banjo and spinning song-stories about his plantation upbringing and singing songs that adopted the vernacular and celebrated the rural and musical traditions of pre-war black life. But a mixed-race group removed from the element of farce and without the use of black-face was a bold concept in the 1890's, garnering praise and derision from both Northern and Southern audiences. His highest praise came from Mark Twain, who suffered similarly divided criticisms for Huckleberry Finn. But the show and the group were very popular nonetheless lasting off and on for over 30 years, even after Miller died in 1913.
Culled from seven cylinder recordings made in 1909 and seven rare 78 rpm recordings made almost 20 years later in 1928, this disc this has some of the earliest recordings of whites and blacks playing together and some of the best examples of pre-war American gospel music. But the most interesting songs are the strange musical theater numbers such as "Laughing Song", that sounds like characters from a maniacal Disneyland ride and "Pussycat Rag" consisting of the quartette singing like, well, cats. Songs like, ah, "Watermelon Party" may cause some cringing, but let's face it, music rarely gets as unashamedly real as this!
While folks like Teegan & Sara and Feist have used a similar yet much more slick aesthetic to achieve big success and relative fame, our hearts will always be with Mirah when it comes to interesting, introspective and bittersweet indie pop/folk. The Old Days Of Feeling compiles lots of hard to find tracks from cassettes, 7"s and other releases as well as a handful of unreleased tracks. Kimya Dawson might have been the lucky one to get the call from Juno filmmakers and become the latest former underground lo-fi rocker to hit the bigtime, but it could have just as easily been Mirah getting that call as her songs are just as honest, endearing, and heart wrenching. With lots of these songs recorded on 4-track with bare bones production it's a great reminder of how strong the core of Mirah's songwriting really is and how her charisma shines whether with an orchestra by her side or alone in her bedroom.
IIt must be pretty frustrating being in Mogwai, 'cause no matter what you do, no matter how far you push and stretch your sound, people just want to hear Young Team. Not that we can blame them - see the Young Team review elsewhere on the aQ site, and observe us gushing appropriately over the record that probably is single handedly responsible for about half of the indie rock made today. But you know, that probably happens to every successful band. Can you imagine if you had gone to see My Bloody Valentine on their recent reunion tour and they didn't play -anything- off of Loveless, just new songs? We went to see Dio once a while back, and all we wanted to hear was old stuff (of course) but instead he played his newly released concept record all the way through. More power to him but geeze. Still, we do understand, no matter how awesome a song is, no one wants to be playing it forever. Think about the Stones playing "Satisfaction". How long have they been playing that song? 40 years? Sheesh!
Anyway, in most fans' eyes, Mogwai can do no wrong, and even if they continue to NOT make Young Team part 2, they do continue to make awesome records. Their grasp of dynamics, and their ability to make an extended instrumental not only interesting but rocking and catchy as well, far surpasses most of the bands who want to be them, and very little has changed on The Hawk Is Howling. While the record starts off with the stately and serene (and awesomely titled "I'm Jim Morrison, I'm Dead"), the follow up "Batcat" finds the band unleashing some serious riffage, and some cool and strange guitar filigree. It's a one part song (maybe two) but boy is it a good part, and it gets looped and twisted, the band building and building, much like the more metal Godspeed they always seemed to be. Epic and crunchy and heavy and so good we probably wouldn't mind if the song was twice (or three times, or four times...) as along.
The next few tracks find the band mellowing back out a bit, letting their songs sprawl and spread out organically, a dreamy, laid back post rock, with no particular place to go, and with Mogwai it's all about the journey, not the destination anyway.
"The Sun Smells Too Loud" is a definite twist on the Mogwai formula, lots of synths and keyboards, and a slow build, slow burn, that gets bigger and louder, without necessarily getting heavier. The main hook, the guitar figure repeated again and again will stick in your head like crazy, the perfect substitute for vocals, if you were even missing them. "I Love You, I'm Going To Blow Up Your School" is classic Mogwai, again harkening back toy Young Team, all loping strum and shuffling rhythms, glistening melodies, lots of texture and ambience, until about the last minute when the band erupts into a super intense psychedelic freakout, still grounded by the melancholy melody that runs through the whole song. There's plenty more drifting and meandering dreamily before closer "The Precipice", which begins soft and breathless, before morphing into something a bit more ominous, the guitars a tad more crunchy, and finally a killer two minute outro, that features gorgeous spidery guitar lines, pounding drums, and gorgeous tangled minor key melodies.
You want Young Team? Probably best to just get over it. Go listen to Young Team. Heck we might just go listen to Young Team again. But really, at this point we're way more interested in seeing where the sounds of Mogwai take us.
There are two versions of the cd, one is the regular edition, the other, WHILE THEY LAST, is slightly more expensive and comes with a dvd, which features the creepy and haunting video for "Batcat", a cool animated fan made video for the same song, and a short, very arty, and quite beautiful documentary about the band.
It must be pretty frustrating being in Mogwai, 'cause no matter what you do, no matter how far you push and stretch your sound, people just want to hear Young Team. Not that we can blame them - see the Young Team review elsewhere on the aQ site, and observe us gushing appropriately over the record that probably is single handedly responsible for about half of the indie rock made today. But you know, that probably happens to every successful band. Can you imagine if you had gone to see My Bloody Valentine on their recent reunion tour and they didn't play -anything- off of Loveless, just new songs? We went to see Dio once a while back, and all we wanted to hear was old stuff (of course) but instead he played his newly released concept record all the way through. More power to him but geeze. Still, we do understand, no matter how awesome a song is, no one wants to be playing it forever. Think about the Stones playing "Satisfaction". How long have they been playing that song? 40 years? Sheesh!
Anyway, in most fans' eyes, Mogwai can do no wrong, and even if they continue to NOT make Young Team part 2, they do continue to make awesome records. Their grasp of dynamics, and their ability to make an extended instrumental not only interesting but rocking and catchy as well, far surpasses most of the bands who want to be them, and very little has changed on The Hawk Is Howling. While the record starts off with the stately and serene (and awesomely titled "I'm Jim Morrison, I'm Dead"), the follow up "Batcat" finds the band unleashing some serious riffage, and some cool and strange guitar filigree. It's a one part song (maybe two) but boy is it a good part, and it gets looped and twisted, the band building and building, much like the more metal Godspeed they always seemed to be. Epic and crunchy and heavy and so good we probably wouldn't mind if the song was twice (or three times, or four times...) as along.
The next few tracks find the band mellowing back out a bit, letting their songs sprawl and spread out organically, a dreamy, laid back post rock, with no particular place to go, and with Mogwai it's all about the journey, not the destination anyway.
"The Sun Smells Too Loud" is a definite twist on the Mogwai formula, lots of synths and keyboards, and a slow build, slow burn, that gets bigger and louder, without necessarily getting heavier. The main hook, the guitar figure repeated again and again will stick in your head like crazy, the perfect substitute for vocals, if you were even missing them. "I Love You, I'm Going To Blow Up Your School" is classic Mogwai, again harkening back toy Young Team, all loping strum and shuffling rhythms, glistening melodies, lots of texture and ambience, until about the last minute when the band erupts into a super intense psychedelic freakout, still grounded by the melancholy melody that runs through the whole song. There's plenty more drifting and meandering dreamily before closer "The Precipice", which begins soft and breathless, before morphing into something a bit more ominous, the guitars a tad more crunchy, and finally a killer two minute outro, that features gorgeous spidery guitar lines, pounding drums, and gorgeous tangled minor key melodies.
You want Young Team? Probably best to just get over it. Go listen to Young Team. Heck we might just go listen to Young Team again. But really, at this point we're way more interested in seeing where the sounds of Mogwai take us.
There are two versions of the cd, one is the regular edition, the other, WHILE THEY LAST, is slightly more expensive and comes with a dvd, which features the creepy and haunting video for "Batcat", a cool animated fan made video for the same song, and a short, very arty, and quite beautiful documentary about the band.
Mou, Lips! is the work of Andrea Gabriele formerly of the Italian project Tu m'; and here, Gabriele ventures into the digital headspace of pixel-point abstraction with smartly placed hints of a pop sweet tooth. His tone-bent digital errata and languid samples of intimately plucked classical guitar, blurting trumpets, maudlin French horns, and scratchy violins from old '78s return to some of the finer moments of post-pop electronica that Sonig and Mille Plateaux were championing many years ago. Untree is a quirky and playful album which lends itself to sounding like Terry Riley being redone by Lithops and / or Vladislav Delay.
Chicago's psychedelic black metallers Nachtmystium have a full-length coming out on Century Media full-length (called, wait for it, Assassins: Black Meddle Part I... no really, get it? 'Cause they love that early Pink Floyd) and this ep is a teaser of sorts, maybe...
Originally meant to be a split with Leviathan, we don't actually know how much this ep is indicative of what's to come on that full-length. There's just two new songs here, one very very psych, slow and spacey ("Worldfall") and another much more traditionally black metally ("Depravity"). There's also a re-recording of an older tune of theirs ("Solitary Voyage"), and two covers: Death In June's "Rose Clouds Of Holocaust" and Goatsnakes's "IV", interesting 'cause industrial-folk and Sabbathy stoner-doom are not exactly Nachtmystium's core sound.
So, how does it stack up? We gotta say whoa, the blasting tracks two and three remind us a lot of With Fear I Kiss the Burning Darkness era At the Gates. Fucking rad! Also, the Death In June cover is shockingly faithful to the original, and the Goatsnake cover is pretty good too, even those of us who don't like Goatsnake that much agreed. Again it's pretty faithful, but has been black metallized with raspy vocals improving upon the original... so, something for everyone here, or maybe just for Nachtmystium fans.
A quick look at the Aidan Baker / Nadja website reveals 100 or more recordings, most super limited cd-r's and almost all of them out of print. With that much recorded output, and of what we've heard all amazing, you'd think Baker and Nadja would be household names, at least among the drone-doom-death-dirge set. That day might fast be approaching with so many new, much more readily available releases. This list alone features THREE new Baker releases (two of course incredibly limited, DOH!): two separate Nadja's as well as a solo record.
This Nadja, released on the Utech cd-r label, is limited to 200 copies and comes in a cool stamped and numbered cardstock sleeve and is, guess what? Totally beautiful. The reason we love Nadja so much is that your every day run of the mill doomy sludge is somehow rendered, lovely, pretty, gorgeous even. The sound is thick and heavy and low, but it's suffused with some ineffable warmth, something that makes the sludge sound impossibly sun dappled. Could be the lilting melodies, the drifting disembodied vocals, the fuzzy blissed out production. Regardless, the sound of Nadja almost has more in common with My Bloody Valentine and M83 than SUNNO))) or Boris. It is definitely dirgey, but it's also subtly poppy and just so pretty. Nadja are so good at crafting that perfect otherworldly, drifting away, sinking to the bottom of a fuzz filled sea sort of sound, that we can never ever ever get enough of.
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We've always been big fans of the warm and shimmery sounds of this great Japanese psych-pop outfit but somehow their new album is making us fall in love with them all over again and it's proving to be quite possibly their best outing yet! We love how the band are able to evoke those hard to describe lingering moments on lazy Sunday afternoons, or the feeling of walking along the pier as the sun slightly reflects against the slow moving waves and all your other thoughts just fade away. Tapping into the great tradition of Japanese psych-folk/pop that folks like Melting Glass Box and Happy End first explored in the '70s, and even reminding us at times of that great Milton Nascimento record Clube Da Esquina that we gushed about last list. As always we hear the influence of the dreamy passages of Neil Young records, especially On The Beach, which we've been listening to immediately after this record pretty much every single Sunday since Yosuga came out. Highly recommended!
Brand new record from unconventional Romanian black metallers Negura Bunget, who began life as a buzzing Norwegian style shrieking black metal beast, sonically quite reminiscent of legendary SF horde Weakling, but who quickly developed into a super unique, folk flecked avant metal combo, mixing their buzzing blackness, with traditional folk melodies, plenty of ambient drone, and with Romanian lyrical themes well outside the prescribed satanic and evil norms of their black brethren.
On this, their latest record, they spread their wings even further, letting songs and parts of songs, develop slowly, build even more gradually, or bliss out into long stretches of droning buzz.
Following a similar path as Enslaved, the band continue to incorporate more and more distinctly un-black metal elements, in the process becoming more and more proggy, with extended song structures, lengthy convoluted instrumental passages, LOTS of keyboards, multiple vocals and unlikely harmonies, dense rhythmic workouts and thick fuzzy almost-postrock. Quite weird, so much so that it sometimes doesn't feel like a black metal record at all. More of a super heavy, atmospheric rock record, with little bits of thrash and prog and blackness mixed in.
Om is most definitely the most moody and atmospheric of NB's releases. Plenty of time is definitely spent buzzing and blasting blackly, but it feels like more of the record is split between loping midtempo jams, long stretches of ethereal space rock ambience and gorgeous bits of dreamy dronefolk drift.
A few folks we spoke to found the new NB a little too out there, too melodic, and not nearly black enough, but as far as we're concerned, Om is plenty black, it's just surrounded by various shades of grey (even some light blues and browns), which, if you're like us, and you like your black metal unpredictable and confusional, then that's exactly what you want. And need!
Includes a DVD, that has amazing stop motion animation menus, with an old frayed rope, that squirms and slithers depending on your selection. Two videos, the first is a series of gorgeous landscapes, forests and slow moving clouds, intercut with some impssobily mind bending shots of forests and waterfalls, super processed and affected so it almost looks like animation, a sort of dizzying water colored 3-D effect. Or something. So beautiful, but so confusing to your brain it's almost impossible to not look away. The other is quite similar, but a bit more lo-fi, with various shots of the band members in a moonlit forest, back lit trees and thick storm clouds as well as some arty shots of faces superimposed on flowing magma, hands in water, lots of washed out abstract images, all on different film stocks, from super high definition to super grainy 16mm. Three live clips, each super arty, one all smeary and indistinct, washed out colors and artful blurs, the other two are all super distressed black and white, with the film shimmying and shifting along with the music, like some old nickeloddian. Pretty cool.
Extras include an interview with the band, a short promo video with more breathtaking images of the Romanian countryside, a slideshow set to music, as well as another live clip and some appropriately arty credits.
Packaged in a super deluxe 8 panel digipak, with super cool, pagan Wickerman / Jan Svankmyer style artwork.
We made the recent reissue of Teenage Filmstars' Star a Record of the Week, and plan on doing the same for the other TF records as soon as they're reissued. Furthermore, one person who works here even proclaimed TF better than My Bloody Valentine, and sticks by that inflammatory claim! But much like MBV, TF weren't always masters of tripped out backwards space psych, in fact long before TF became a swirling spaced out bliss rocking psychedelic juggernaut, they were a kick ass, old school jangly UK punk rock band. Teenage Filmstars mainman Ed Ball, and his partners Daniel Treacy and Joseph Foster also did time in the Television Personalities, and would later go on to start the Rev-ola, Artpop! and Creation labels. That's some serious pop star power for sure.
But back then, things were much simpler, especially the sound, many of these tracks are indeed credited to Teenage Filmstars instead of O Level, but TF were a whole different beast, channeling the sound of the Kinks, the Who, the Jam, the Undertones, the Rezillos (who even get name checked on one song), all angular post punk and groovy garage-y stomp, catchy and hooky and simple and rollicking and more pop than punk, whereas the O Level tracks seem a bit more abstract, a bit more out there, than the TF tracks, which are more catchy and energetic, but to be fair, if the tracks were uncredited to one band or the other it might be difficult to tell them apart. They are basically the same band after all.
There are some amazing tracks here, the all time classic "I Helped Patrick McGoohan Escape", the melancholy summery strum of "I Love To Clean My Polaris Missile", the Beatlesesque "Everybody's On Revolver Tonight", some tracks even a have a bit of ska guitar here and there, lots of bloopy dubby bass, the guitars are angular and jangly, the vocals are all over, a Cockney growl one minute, a sweet croon the next, and the songs are fun, catchy, noisy, poppy, the lyrics are super clever and snarky too, sometimes sharp and funny, other times subtly dark, all in all a killer comp of seminal UK punk / pop and a brilliant glimpse at the roots of a sound and scene that would eventually blossom into a serious obsession!
Amazing packaging, all the original tracks, tons of bonus tracks, lots of photos, super entertaining and confusional liner notes, almost as fun to read as the record is to listen to.
High Llamas fans, you probably don't want to miss this! Indeed, you're probably already well aware that band leader Sean O'Hagan composes plenty of lovely music outside of his main band, right? But you probably weren't able to attend the various aural art installations he and Belgian pop-artist Jean Pierre Muller have collaborated on for the past half decade, were you? This new book+cd set, though nowhere near the actual experience of being in those environments, will have to do!
The 5.5"x6" 96-page hardcover book is filled with full color photo documentation of the first two installations' preparation, Muller's touch-sensitive art pieces as well as the attendees interacting with them.
The cd features O'Hagan's unmistakable soft-focus space age cocktail hour soundtracks which formed the interactive sonic loops in the installation. Their burbling dreaminess make for quite a languid contrast to the immediacy of the eye-poppingly vibrant paint and collage visuals!
Latest in Touch's 7" series, this one folks have been clamoring for, comes from Mr. Jim O'Rourke, a name that should no doubt be familiar to most folks by now! Brise Glace, Gastr Del Sol, SONIC YOUTH, as well as about a million more, not to mention a vast body of solo work. Well before O'Rourke was an in demand producer, a guest guitarist, dabbling in noise rock and Appalachia, he was a master of the drone, and this 2 part single track 7" harkens back to those days, with an amazing and beautiful arrangement of buzz and whir, of excited strings and resonating metal.
It's almost a shame the track had to be split up on a 7" as the two parts flow so perfectly into each other. Beginning with a deep resonant buzz, sounds like a guitar, but could be a harmonium, wheezing and whirring, warm and thick and lustrous, bits of feedback lace the blurred drift, over the top delicate high end melodies, float and shimmer, becoming more and more active until they seem to be driving the piece, the whole thing strangely looped and weirdly melancholy, beneath the track, deep rumbling swells pulse and throb. By the second side, the sound has gotten more abrasive, much more scraping and metal buzz, electronic streaks, the sound tangled and constantly shifting, managing to sprawl into an expanse of beautifully noisy dronemusic.
As always beautiful cover by Touch head honcho Jon Wozencroft, and like the rest in the series, probably limited.
Super cool embroidered patch from one of our favorite black metal bands. Black and white and silver, the band's logo frosted with snow. Your denim vest wants one of these soooooo bad. We only have a tiny handful of these so don't be too bummed out if they're gone before you get one...
When Brooklyn's White Hills was here last week (they played a rad instore, hope you made it), they brought us some copies of this new compilation on which they appear, alongside the likes of Mammatus, The Heads, Kawabata Makoto, Residual Echoes, Plastic Crimewave Sound, Fuzzhead, and a couple others (many of whom are depicted in the cover drawing montage, done by Plastic Crimewave, whose art you may know from his Galactic Zoo Dossier 'zine). Heavy duty, fuzzed out, psychedelic stoner rock nirvana here, folks! But it's NOT exactly a comp, actually. It's the follow-up to an out of print disc called Jamnation that we reviewed (thumbs up) a few years back. And that's the catch, kinda. Both Jamnation and now Phosphene River aren't just various artists collections, they're spoken word projects from the fevered mind of one Dan McGuire, who lays down his gritty beatnik poetry overtop the instrumental spacey effects laden bliss and/or throbbing distorted guitar riffage being pumped out by these bands. We've said it before, we'll say it again, we're not so big on the spoken word thing. You'll never catch us at a poetry slam. BUT, we gotta say, first off McGuire's rambling Lizard King orations, we can deal with, usually. His subject matter is surreal and sinister enough to somewhat make up for the sheer self parodic silliness of the whole spoken word thing. And, his words don't really get in the way of the music, which is really why we're listening. He slips right in there like he belongs, instead of being a total distraction. He's got a cool, gritty voice (we compared him to turned on, dropped out John Wayne / Henry Rollins hybrid before) and sorta sounds like the hardboiled detective doing the voiceover in some '50s noir movie, except with the drug fueled, fear & loathing laden, imagination of a Hunter S. Thompson. Even when he's getting Biblical, as he does on the PCS track "Are You A Dragon". His streams of consciousness can be sort of hypnotic - we'll admit to listening less to what he's saying and more to the heavy sound of the whole thing. And as we said when we reviewed Jamnation, McGuire has a knack for knowing when to back off and leave space for the music. He'll let a track play halfway through sometimes before opening his mouth - and the tracks he's selected for this disc are of course good 'uns, as you might have already guessed from the quality lineup who contributed. It's pretty well done for what it is!
So, if you like stoner psych -and- spoken word, this is for you for sure. If just stoner psych, well we'd say that this comp is rad enough to withstand the inclusion of all that jawing. And think about it, McGuire's purple flow of deviant verbiage is really not that different from what these band's guitarists are doing with their axes, wailing away, off on their own freaky trips...
Freakin' awesome steel stringed explorations through space and time with Dewey Mahood, guitarist of Portland's Eternal Tapestry! He's released a handful of tapes in the past, but Crystal Wizard is the first cd-r release from this psychedelic mystery man, and it's a doozy. Layers of bells, hazy vocal drones and colorful whips of delayed guitar adorn the steel-stringed compositions. Roots music meets psychedelia in a wild hoopla of acoustic trippiness. Super limited and complete with cosmic artwork by Mr. Mahood himself. Yes!
What might you expect from a match up between Mr. Joe Preston, he of Harvey Milk, Thrones, High On Fire and a million more, and Mr. Daniel Menche serious noise maker in his own right? Well definitely not this, although safe to say we're surprised but most assuredly not disappointed.
Cerberic Doxology is a single 25 minute piece, for just vocals, a glorious primal, ritual of chants and longform vocal tones, which at first, and only for the briefest of seconds, sounds a bit odd, maybe because we were expecting to be blasted out of our seats, but within moments, the voices grow much less distinct, the sound around them gets hazier and blurrier, the floor drops out and the listener is suddenly suspended in some whirling otherworld, the low voices become fuzzier and buzzier and soon become thick undulating drones, the higher vocals, soar and shimmer, and offer up soft smears of melody. It's like Ligeti or Part filtered through SUNNO))) or Earth, a totally immersive and nearly suffocating soundscape of layered thrum and throb. With headphones, at about the halfway mark we forgot what we were listening to, but it had totally transported us, and we found ourselves gloriously lost in a seemingly endless vocal drone.
Flip the dualdisc over, and play it in your dvd player, and not only will you be treated to enhanced sound, a super hi fidelity rendering of the music from the flipside, but you'll also get to see the accompanying images, slow shots of deserts and mountains, of wide open skies, smoldering volcanoes, strange stone monoliths, dark clouds, crashing surf, all shot in blacks and greys, and with some subtle yet strange effects, where the image will blur briefly, or the same few seconds will lock into a barely discernible loop, but always returning to it's slow haunting drift.
We had been complaining a lot lately about the dearth of amazing pop music, then out of nowhere, comes not one, but two contenders for pop record of the year. Elsewhere you can read about the lush Beach Boys / Zombies retro pop of the Rollo Treadway, a record that has been in a constant battle with this one right here for top spot. And it's one of those cases that whichever one we're listening to is at that moment, THE ONE. Until, that is, we throw on the other. What's a pop fanatic to do? Thankfully, there's more than enough space for multiple best pop records ever, in our brains, in our ears, in our collections, on our year end lists and in our hearts!
Pretty & Nice are an East Coast trio, who take the classic pop sounds of groups like XTC, Devo, Gang Of Four and folks like Joe Jackson and Elvis Costello, supercharge it, then mash it all up with more modern pop masters like the Cardiacs, the New Pornographers, Maximo Park. Angular propulsive, kinetic, rambunctious, wild, energetic, SO SO SO SO catchy, with killer falsetto vocals, jagged guitars, wild frenetic drumming, and hooks galore, and the whole thing shot through with nods to classic pop of the past.
"Tora Tora Tora" has been on constant repeat play, with its weird synthy breakdown, new wave synths, wrapped around a killer power pop hook, with an amazing stuttery start stop bridge, where the vocals slip into a falsetto, before the song shifts gear into some almost metallic crunch. Hot on the heels of that one is "Pixies", that instead of aping the soft/loud/soft dynamic of the song's namesake, is a strange mathy angular new wave groove, and a chorus the Cardiacs would kill for, with soft strummed guitars, dreamy sweet vocal harmonies. And then there's "Peekaboo", that sounds so much like a lost New Pornographers jam it's uncanny, but P&N manage to take what in a Pornographers song might just be a single part, and stretch it out into something dreamlike and ethereal, moving and slightly melancholy, another possible pop song of the year! We're also pretty partial to "Nuts & Bolts", which sounds like it could be the latest dancefloor destroying post new wave jam from some UK band. But Maximo Park, the Killers, Arctic Monkeys, etc. ain't got nothing on these guys, especially here, with a weird electronic skitter woven into the crunch and bounce, the guitars heavy, the vocals swooping wildly from croon to hushed falsetto and back, and again, a hook most bands could base their whole career on.
Needless to say, the rest of the tracks stack up just as well, we literally have been blasting this over and over every day, with no end in site. There's just something so amazing about pop music like this, the sounds and the songs, the hooks and the vibe, the energy, it's pretty rare for all of those things to just fall perfectly into place, but when they do, it's total fucking magic.
Pop record of the year. One of 'em at least!
Joseph Raglani has released a handful of micro-editions on cd-r, cassette, and lp during the past four or five years, operating in a Klaus Schulze / Cluster vein of synthetic orchestration before catching the attention of Kranky Records. With all of the swoop and sweep of Raglani's electronics that parallel the drone-rock of Growing and Stars Of The Lid, Kranky is a good fit for Raglani. He casts a wide net of aesthetics on Of Sirens Born with some lovely pastoral moments coaxed from sampled harp and strings not that far removed from Colleen's lilting sound; and later on, he ignites a powderkeg of Merzbowian noise which disintegrates into atonal bowings of metal. But his deftly rendered ambience is rife with plenty of squiggle and slow-burning crescendos from his patch bay synthesizer, forming the crux of this enjoyable album.
Sunny local French ex-pat singer / songwriter Helene Renault has been playing around San Francisco for a few years now, touring with the likes of Ruthann Friedman, Bart Davenport and Sean Smith. We've always been fans, and before her new record comes out next year (recorded by Jason Quever of Papercuts), we've managed to get a handful of her self-released debut from a couple of years back. Inspired by British folk and French pop, she weaves her delicate guitar playing through wistful and melancholic original songs with a couple of covers, one a beautiful rendition of John Martyn's "Run Sally Run". Perfect for these last few warm weeks of fall! Fans of Sibyelle Baier, Ruthann Friedman, and Francoise Hardy take note!
Most 74 year olds aren't still making vital music, let alone going on tours with their kraut/kosmische pioneering outfits Cluster and Harmonia, but then again Hans-Joachim Roedelius really does seem like one of a kind. Hot on the heels of his stunning performances here in the Bay Area with Cluster (including a never to be forgotten AQ instore!) Roedelius has quietly released a new collaborative album with Tim Story. And while the pairing of Roedelius with a Windham Hill alumni may make some AQ faithful squirm, we have to say that while this does fall on the very soft and pretty side of things it still remains very tasteful, and shimmers with a subtle beauty and a hazy gaze. Like some of the more calming and subdued outings by folks we love like Harold Budd, Max Richter and Brian Eno, Roedelius proves that even when he's in a soothing kind of mood he's able to transcend the mediocre new-age/massage parlor sound of other artists of a similar ilk, who forego subtly and lay the schmaltz on thick. We've been giving Klimek and the Pop Ambient series a break from being our go-to-sleep nighttime listening, and in their place, Inlandish has been the perfect soundtrack to guide us to a blissful dreamstate.
Pop music definitely seems more and more like a lost art every day. For every hundred bands that can whip up a chaotic noise rock racket, or every thousand bands who tune down and unfurl walls of crumbling low end sludge, there are maybe only one or two bands, who are creating true, timeless, amazing pop music. Rife with amazing production, incredible songwriting, lush harmonies, clever lyrics, mind blowing hooks, maybe even horns and strings, and out of those bands, maybe only a fraction are doing something truly original. Aping the Beach Boys or the Zombies or the Beatles can only take you so far. And to be totally honest, way too many bands claim the Beach Boys or the Zombies as an inspiration, most taking just the surface stuff, which was only part of the musical magic involved.
So thus we have the strangely named Rollo Treadway, from Brooklyn, although on first listen we would have sworn they were from sixties London, or perhaps sixties Los Angeles. This disc showed up out of the blue in the mail one day, and on first listen we were already proclaiming this pop record of the year. How could we not, this is everything we love. Retro pop so good, that if you didn't know better, you might assume this was the real thing. And heck, it IS the real thing, just 40 years later. The strangest thing about this band is the fact that the drummer is Blake Fleming, formerly of the Mars Volta, and before that, the godlike Laddio Bolocko! But don't be expecting any of that sort of stuff, this is pure pop. Lush, string laden, harmony drenched pop. Mellotrons, warm organs, jangly guitars, and some of the most gorgeous breathy vocals harmonies we've heard in ages. The other amazing thing about this disc, is that it's a concept record of sorts, the first song, "Kidnapped" is sung by the male half of a couple of siblings who have been kidnapped, it's strangely moving, and super creepy. Later in the record, a track begins with the sound of a typewriter, and the song reveals itself as a letter from the kidnapper to the kids' family. The high concept never derails the songs though, and the songs are damn near perfect.
The opener, is quite possible THE pop song of the year. Quite reminiscent of Belle And Sebastian's "Step Into My Office, Baby" from their Dear Catastrophe Waitress (a record even the B&S hating Andee LOVES), beginning with twangy Western guitar, some cool percussion, maracas, shakers, a woozy guitar melody, all beneath a super effected stuttering main riff, then a circusy bridge, with gorgeous falsetto vocals, soaring strings, even some horns, a very Zombies like string break, there's even a flute solo. It manages to be dreamy and ethereal, but also surprisingly rocking. We've probably listened to this song a hundred times since we first got this in. Thankfully, the rest of the record is just as gorgeous, borrowing heavily from the above mentioned influences, but wrapping those influences in their own distinct song writing, some incredible intricate guitars, super varied drumming and percussion, horns and strings everywhere, whirring organs, but the focal point is definitely the vocals, lush and whispery and soft, the harmonies rich and layered and seemingly effortless.
"Dear Mr. Doe" continues the kidnapping plotline, the typewriter leading into a jaunty organ riff, and a simple propulsive rhythm, wandering bassline, and the vocals, multi tracked, each one complimenting the other, vibes, more organs, a shimmery sixties groove, almost dreamlike, while the lyrics instruct the parents not to call the police and where to leave the money if they ever hope to see the kids alive again.
It's really hard to explain what exactly is so magical about this record, other than the sound is amazing, and the songs are fantastic. Just listen to the sound samples, if "Kidnapped" doesn't immediately send you into paroxysms of pop bliss, then you need to march right down to your local Pop Music headquarters and turn in your membership. Pop kids of any stripe will dig this like crazy. If you love the Zombies, Beach Boys, Badfinger, Beatles, Kinks, or more modern pop revivalists like Jellyfish, the Three O'Clock, the Wondermints, Silver Sun, Redd Kross, Belle And Sebastian you will definitely love getting lost in the Rollo Treadway's lush baroque pop wonderland.
Subtitled, Another Suplex Prune Hittite Fantasy! But I think this needs a little more explanation. Argh. Ok, some of you will remember Steven Shultz for his remarkable "History of Vats" cd, or his more recent rap album, the "I Forgot To Get A Rap Name!"
The four cds come packaged in a cardboard box, complete with a thick booklet providing you with the entire libretto, and more. Basically, this is the Conet Project of "comedy"! (that is, if you can consider this comedy...)
This also features a special guest star, a certain local metal singer who wisely desires to remain anonymous (hint: he's on one of Andee's recent tUMULt releases), who, as a favor for Steve, played the role of Hulk Hogan! ...I also think I heard Bob Dylan on here...
So, if you think pro wrestling characters from the '80s are amusing and that the slang term 'hella' is funny and you like Frank Zappa, or if you are simply a connoisseur of the idiotically ridiculous, this is for you!! Don't say we didn't warn you. Basically, if you can stand to listen to the entire thing, you've got problems. (See www.harmful.org/stalinclaus for more information, including a helpful flowchart explaining the, uh, plot. Or so we're told, we were too scared to go there.)
Following their acclaimed 2007 concept album Palo Santo, Texas band Shearwater deliver another haunting, dramatic work. Whether its title refers to the bird or chess piece of the same name we aren't certain (it's probably the second because main man Jonathan Meiburg studies ornithology), but both are quite apropos. The ten songs are imbued with the airborne grace of the former and the formidable icy stone gravity of the latter. If you've yet to hear this band's music, imagining a more ominous Coldplay (whom the band has opened for in concert) is a good place to start. Their sound at once harkens back to '70s UK folk rock as well as perhaps early '90s Talk Talk and the late '90s epic loud-quiet postrock of Godspeed or Mogwai. The swooping high vocals of Meiburg conjuring comparisons to Nick Drake, Mark Kozelek or Ron Sexsmith. Fans of any/all of the above, definitely check this somber beauty out!
Folks in SF probably remember Brian Girgus from stints behind the kit for AmRep noise rockers Lowercase and of course beloved SF popsters Track Star, but since then, Girgus has been doing something a little different. Well a LOT different than Lowercase, a little different from Trackstar.
The sound is still pop, but unlike Trackstar's jagged loud/soft noisepop, Si, Claro is more straight ahead, more simple and heartfelt. For a while now Girgus has been playing around town with nothing but an acoustic guitar, but for his first foray into a recording studio, he recruited a whole band, and even recorded one track in Sweden with Wyatt from Trackstar. The sound is quite reminiscent of nineties college rock, pure jangle indie rock. Though where Trackstar channeled Pavement, Girgus is less concerned with the noise and dynamics and snark of that side of indie rock, and instead focuses on simple solid songcraft. The two track are both straight ahead, verse chorus verse, acoustic they sounded a bit folky, but fleshed out with an actual band, they sound surprisingly lush, multiple guitars, strummed acoustic and sharper electric, some piano here and there, the drumming solid and swinging, and Girgus' vocals sweet and earnest, the lyrics are simple, sincere, the delivery plaintive, perfectly suited to the strum and jangle and shuffle that backs it up.
A sweetly solid chunk of modern indie jangle pop.
Faithful indie rockers knew that prior to 2006 there wasn't a hope in hell that they'd be seeing one of their favorite bands live in concert. Silver Jews' team captain David Berman chose to keep it that way, much to his fans despair. So, why the change of heart after fifteen long years? We've no idea, and we choose not to pry, but the band hit the road, and how! They toured right across the country and around the globe. This dvd doesn't document the entire trip, but heck, we've all seen tons of footage of bands on the road, right? The grueling, the touching, the hilarious, the ho hum, etc., etc. Instead filmmaker Michael Tully chose to focus on one particular stop in the band's travels, the distant land of Tel Aviv, Israel. The film does include a few clips of the band performing live, but more so, it resonates with the profound intimate impact the visit had on Berman. A must-see for any Silver Jews fan!
We still can't figure out how the hell we missed this band when they were still a going concern. Ex-members of the mighty Man Is The Bastard, a sound that is so aQ at times it sounds like they made this record just for us. Super rhythmic, hypnotic, krautrocky, heavy, noisy, squalls of analog noise, walls of feedback, buried distorted vocals, heavy and mesmerizing, like a power violence This Heat for sure. Sound familiar? It should. We described former aQ record of the Week honorees Geronimo similarly, which makes sense since basically, Sleestak eventually morphed into Geronimo shedding some of the grit and noise, but not all of it, tightening up their sound into something almost machinelike. Sleestak also sonically predated/predicted another aQ Record of the Week outfit, French post kraut noise rockers Aluk Todolo. So anyone who went nuts for either of those discs, or loved the Sleestak disc we listed a few lists back, you're probably gonna need this one too. Another mind blowing collection of mangled avant krauty noise rock, that is both brutal and abrasive, as well as weirdly repetitive and seriously heavy.
The drums are the core, and the heart of the sound, locked into seemingly simple grooves, the belie surprisingly complex arrangements, the drums are dense, hard hitting, the recording lo-fi but still thick and crunchy, swinging from doomy plod, to tripped out and space rocky, to totally abstract and spacious. While the drums pound away, the rest of the band wrap the rhythms in thick clouds of buzzing analog crunch, all manner of glitch and grit, squealing synths, rumbling downtuned bass, streaks of malfunctioning electronics, strange sound bites and snippets, and vocals, that range from howling guttural roar, to hysterical shrike, to hushed whisper. The band lets the drums drop out, sometimes for long stretches, the electronics and synths spread out swirling and churning, changing shape and sound, building all sorts of tension so when the drums do crash back in, it's super intense.
The Power Of Gemini(a was the first Sleestak record, originally released in 1997, and as such, it's definitely much more raw, more noisy, more lo-fi, the connection to MITB and various other post Bastard projects much more pronounced, but even back then, the band were already forging a super fucked up and gloriously idiosyncratic path, creating a sound, that managed to fuse the crushing heaviness and DIY roots of the members' previous bands, with a near maniacal future vision of some twisted, off kilter, and rhythmically obtuse post-everything sound.
Gorgeously packaged in a silkscreened letter pressed fold up origami style cardstock sleeve.
A new Sloan record is big news around these parts, especially since the two resident Pop freeks at aQ count Canada's Sloan among their all time pop favorites! But the interesting thing about Sloan, is that every record, bar one or two, are definitely growers. We talked about this in the review of Action Pact, about how somehow all of the past Sloan records are on such constant rotation, even years later, and the songs so firmly lodged in our heads and hearts, that a new record can't help but disappoint. At least at first. Like every Sloan record so far, all it took was a handful of listens, and suddenly Parallel Play slipped effortlessly into Sloan's pantheon of perfect pop. They have a sound that is so distinct, the voices, the harmonies, the sounds of the guitars. A good example was when we were driving the other day, flipped on the radio, and heard two seconds of crunchy guitar, and immediately, we thought "Why is Sloan on NPR?" And whadda you know? It was indeed them. And weirdly enough, hearing Parallel Play in that context, helped win us over as well. Even though these guys are so talented, and write such amazingly catchy songs, you still don't hear them on the radio. So hearing that sound, THAT sound, all we could think was what a revelation Sloan must be for someone who had never heard them.
And so it remains. The sound incredibly varied, since the four members share songwriting duties, and thus vocal duties, and each of them can handle whatever instrument is left vacant, bass, guitars, piano, drums, after a while, Sloan fanatics definitely pick their favorites, but fuck it, they're all great, and Parallel Play is no different, right out of the gate, the band kick it off with the crunchy power pop anthem "Believe", a should-have-been hit single if we've ever heard one, and from there on out it's pure Sloan, a sound that could really be no one else, slipping from super bouncy pop, to stripped down rockers, to brooding ballads, and all the various stops in between.
As good a place to start as any for Sloan newbies, but we'll always be partial to Twice Removed and One Chord To Another. Another fantastic record from one of our all time favorite pop groups EVER!!
Finally, time to clear away the dirt, drag that huge concrete slab to the side, reach way down into the ancient gloom and haul that old wooden crate up from the depths, pry open that rusted padlock, unwind the heavy chains, and pull out the nails, one by one, until we can remove the lid, and unleash the many many 'o's stashed there long ago. Confused? Well, it's been a while since we needed a bunch of extra o's for a doom review, but now that we finally have enough copies of Sol's Let There Be A Massacre to review, all of these o's are most definitely going to come in handy.
And yes, this is most definitely doooooooooooooom, but not of the slow motion near static sludge variety, no the doom of Sol is much more classic, and epic, melodic and majestic, almost like a Paradise Lost or My Dying Bride record slowed down, fucked up, and turned into something at once, totally familiar, but also strangely twisted and bizarre. The work of one man, a Danish dude called Emil Sol Brahe, and while he definitely has his fundamentals in place. Lumbering tempos, mournful melodies, thick buzzing guitars, howled demonic vox, the sound of Sol is anything but typical doom. It's another one of those instances where if you stripped away the distortion, it would almost be some gorgeously lilting slowcore post rock. The main guitar soars and sings, over a swirling wash of droning buzz, pounding drum plod. And the rumbling guttural vocals. The first track almost sounds like some strange mix of Skepticism and Godspeed, You Black Emperor. Very cinematic, and emotional, not evil or brutal as much as melancholy and haunting.
Check out the third track "Boginki", with its strange martial drum intro, the sound of the drums weirdly effected, the cymbals a distorted sizzle, the guitar comes in, a warped downtuned looped churning almost static riff, and then the vocals, super distorted and anguished, all wrapped up by a strange almost jig like synthesizer melody. In some weird way it almost sounds like Laibach. Which is definitely not a bad thing. There are occasional stretches of folky acoustic guitar, murky drones, and roiling buzz, but for the most part, Brahe and his Sol unfurl thick heaving slabs of that gorgeous epic doom majesty they just don't seem to make that much anymore. The final track is a weary woozy lament, all muted rhythmic thump and wheezing minor key accordion, finishing off with creepy minimal backporch banjo, folky and somber, mysterious and quite lovely, but in some strange way just as crushingly sad and funereally heavy as the rest of the disc.
Definitely essential for doomlords and doomaidens, and for anyone who has been lamenting the recent lack of multiple o'd reviews, but also, just melodic and pretty enough to possibly appeal to fans of apocalyptic doomfolk like Kiss The Anus, Ignatz, Woven Hand, Svarte Greiner, as long as they can handle their doom folk, HEAVY on the DOOOOOOOM...
Recorded live, in an ancient cathedral in Bergen, Norway, Domkirke is pretty impressive slab of avant heaviness, and continues to display SUNNO))), the duo of Stephen O'Malley and Greg Anderson (and usually any number of auxiliary members), moving further and further away from their Earth worshipping roots. Having become a bona fide ART band, you're now more likely to catch SUNNO))) in a gallery, or a cathedral, than on a metal bill, which is fine, as their sound is the rare beast that does manage to bridge that gap, and most appealingly, manages to alienate and piss off folks on both sides of the divide.
So for this performance, the band chose to create a piece that reflected the history of the cathedral, creating something much more ritualistic sonically, vocal based, incorporating chants, Gregorian hymns of the Middle Ages, evoking the despair of a time of plague and death, a truly medieval sound, woven into SUNNO))'s more modern minimal glacial dronemusic. The two most noticeable additions to the SUNNO))) sound for this performance are Attila's powerful operatic vocals, and the gorgeous buzz of the cathedral's massive pipe organ. And the opening track is just that, ditching the guitars entirely, letting the organ unfurl massive minor key whirs and shimmering rich harmonies, while Attila moans and croons, sometimes adding another layer of low rumbles, other times, wailing dramatically. The organ so rich and lustrous and majestic and powerful. Reminds you that no matter how many amps you have and how much distortion you use, some things are inherently heavier than guitars. But that doesn't keep the Sunn boys from trying, as the second track returns to more familiar territory, offering up a glacial slow motion flow of crumbling super distorted guitars, more melodic than usual, churning over a back drop of shimmering organ drones, and again Attila's vocals slipping from hissed whisper, to rich mellifluous chant. Add to that a bit of electronic filigree from noisemaker Lasse Marhaug, and you've got a pretty ominous and intense slab of medieval murk. The guitars do unwind into surprisingly melodic figures now and again, but always return find their way back to that main, heaving tarpit riff.
The third side (movement), begins as more of the same, although this time the track sprawls into some almost free noise, the vocals demonic and intense, the guitars spilling out of the amps in noxious black clouds, squalls of electronics, sheets of feedback, sounds almost like SUNNO))) free jazz, unhinged and frenzied, but still bleak and black and heavy. The final movement might be the heaviest of the bunch, those oh so familiar slow motion riffs, wash over that swirling sea of whirring organ, a massive organic, almost fluid sound, alive with energy, black, yet glowing from within, building to a suffocatingly intense climax, the guitars crumbling and blown out, the organ at fever pitch, the vocals another layer of buzz and howl, the whole thing threatening to bring down the ancient stone walls, before dropping out completely, leaving Attila's rumbling low end growl, and then finally leaving just the organ, to play out mournfully and mysteriously.
Pretty fantastic. It almost makes us wish SUNNO))) would just get a pipe organ in the band, permanently. Might make touring a bit tough, but heck, it might just be worth it!
Incredible packaging, one of the thickest gatefold sleeves we've ever seen, adorned with gorgeous abstract oil paintings on the outside, and photos of the performance on the inside, full color printed sleeves, with more performance photos, pressed on black vinyl, limited to 5000 copies, never to be released as a cd or a digital download.
We said we'd now be getting this essential UK magazine of metallic (and other) extremity on a regular basis, and so we are. Here's #174, right on schedule!
Paradise Lost, Anathema and My Dying Bride share the cover, celebrating 20 years of the British doom-death scene they helped create. Also, stuck to the cover: a -double- cd sampler, with tracks from PL, MDB, Anathema, Oakenshield, Canvas Solaris, Dragonforce, Darkspace, Dwellers Of Twilight, Coffins, and loads more.
Inside the magazine, there's stuff on Esoteric, Motorhead, Krisiun, Gnaw Their Tongues, Krallice, The Wounded Kings, Kalmah, Wold, Harkonin, Coffins... Genghis Tron/Nachtmystium on tour, Destruction (the band) in the studio, a label profile on 20 Buck Spin, an Italian death metal scene report, tons and tons of reviews, and a look back at Possessed's classic Seven Churches. Oh, and Anaal Nathrakh do the "Hard Of Hearing" feature, guessing as to the identity of a bunch of tracks being played for them, getting stumped by everything except for Iron Monkey...
Tindersticks creep their way back into our hearts with their latest (and seventh) album - their first studio full length since 2003's Waiting For The Moon. As always, their music lures you into its clutches with its balance of soulful threadbare emotions, gently caressing instrumentations and slowly (downward) spiralling arrangements. No one captures the essence of devastatingly beautiful despair like Stuart Staples and co. However, there are a couple of unexpected numbers on Hungry Saw in which the band, dare we say, almost has a skip in their step - case in point, the title track! Nevertheless, this is classic Tindersticks, a fine bruise-red vintage to drown your sorrows in. Sure to not only please their legions of devoted fans, but also captivate many new ones!
It's fun to look back at reviews we've written and see how we feel about them after some time has passed and we've spent more time with the record in question, records that we sometimes had to write about way too soon after first hearing. While we gave the latest outing by Australia's Cut Copy a favorable review we didn't gush and really rave about it as much as we might now. It's a record that became and still is one of our big pop addictions of the year. We've lost count of how many times we've listened to that record and it's looking like label mates The Tough Alliance are on their way to achieving that same state of pure dance pop bliss. Hailing from Sweden, where they've always known a thing or two about producing pleasing pop perfection, this is a record that channels eighties sounds from the Happy Mondays to OMD to The Human League. Breezy and infectious equal parts Manchester scene, indie pop, nu-rave, electro-pop and hi-energy, it's a whole album that sounds a little like some of our favorite songs stretched out into a whole record, like the Vaselines cover of Divine's "You Think You're A Man" or Death Cab For Cutie's most infectious song ever "Soul Meets Body". A New Chance doesn't reinvent the wheel but it sure makes us jump and spin and swirl in pure bliss and you can't ask for much more than that in a pop album. So fun and and so good!
Whoops, how'd this one slip under our radar? Encyclopedia Asthmatica Vol. 1 presents 32 playful, whimsical visuals from the ultra blissed out indie label's roster of gentle folk and electronic pop - Sufjan Stevens, The Curtains, Castanets, Shapes And Sizes, Half-Handed Cloud, Rafter, Bunky, Liz Janes, My Brightest Diamond! A hi-fi and lo-fi mix of animation, live clips, found footage and more, the dvd's probably worth nabbing for the Stevens clips alone, but the rest are super dreamy delights too!
This international, experimental comp from the Japan-based Even Stilte label features a couple big AQ faves, Birchville Cat Motel and Reynols, among others. The comp's called No Noise, but that title is ironic or something. Somebody call the Better Business Bureau with a truth in advertising complaint. Yes Noise is more like it. And if you don't think the first track (by Japanese skreemongers Dustbreeders aided and abetted by vocalist Junko from Hijokaidan) is noisy enough, first of all you're either deaf or crazy, and second of all, ok see what you think of track two, from Japan's even noisier Guilty Connector. We literally had to leap to the stereo to turn it down. It's noise all right, of the universe collapsing all around you in a howling tumble of feedback and fuzzed out, fucked up distortion variety. Damn. Halfway through, though, this track takes a turn into much less loud realm of insectoid buzz and freeform clatter, which actually is more the sort of "noise" that this comp itself is mostly about. Instead of the full-on, speaker-shredding, ear-shrivelling noise, of the first track and a half, this delves into some smaller noises as well. And also even some shambolic, avant-rock ritual strangeness from Argentina's wonderful Reynols. But mostly abstract, soundscapey drone stuff for the most part. Such as, the aforementioned BCM turns in a track that seemingly tunes in the zings of long thin wires. Electric zapping and humming and hissing.
We were also interested to hear from the artists that we weren't so familiar with, like Sky Burial, whose track is a moody drift, rising and falling in rumbling, soothing swells. Someone or something named Phrog provides even more minimal, "microscopic" sounds, vaguely field-recording-ish, as is Dave Phillips' lengthily-titled yet barely-there "From Wars Over Control and Oil to Environmental and Mental Destruction and Renewable Sources and Minds (at a Loss for Words)". Kyoshi Mizutani's "Yamaokmai Tunnel" is another one probably constructed from environmental sources. And Acid Mothers Temple member Tabata, if he used field recordings, they must have been loops of someone shooting down aliens in an anonymous videogame, processed into something much calmer. Somewhat more active is the track by Rudolf Eb.er (of Runzelstirn & Gurglestock infamy), a chopped-up soundscape, that settles into an uneasy, clomping rhythm. (Eb.er also provided the "Body World" styled cover painting for this cd.) So, while far from "No Noise" this comp is a good way to get to -know- some noise, in all its extremes, from around the world.
All the tracks here are apparently exclusive, except possibly the GC one. So we were told by the Even Stilte label boss, from whom we picked up just handful of these comps, when he stopped by the store whilst passing through SF recently.
No doubt about it, there is so much great music and art coming out of Portland lately. Not to sound bitter, but we here in San Francisco have lost some of our most talented folks in recent years to the cheaper rent and more laid back lifestyle up in Portland and some of them (Yellow Swans, SubArachnoid Space) pop up on this great two disc collection, which features a wide variety of PDX music including talented folks like Yacht, Valet, Au, New Bloods, Pink Martini, Panther and a bunch more. Forty songs in all and for sure something for everyone on here. Compiled by the folks at PDX Pop Now, a really cool nonprofit in Portland that helps provide resources, venues and facilitate a true sense of community amongst the musicians and audience members in the independent arts scene in Portland. So cool.
Yay! We've been pretty excited to hear this one for a while. After digging a couple of their 7"s we knew this was going to be one of our new favorite stripped-down, in-the-garage, but-with-a-sweet-side-too bands. It's so cool how they somehow manage to bring the worlds of cuddle core and garage rock together seamlessly as if they were always meant to be. We hear so many of our favorite sounds and bands in their songs, from Young Marble Giants to Quixotic to Thee Oh Sees... Tiger Trap, Electrelane, Holy Golightly... and even our own Cup's old band Cub. If you were to think of drawing a diagram and finding that magical place where the worlds of K Records and In The Red intersect, it would be in the sounds of the Vivian Girls. And while the latter label are the lucky ones to be releasing this record, there is still so much K-style melody, sassiness and dreamy punch to the Vivian Girls' garage styled pop. We can't think of a better band we'd want to have play a raucous drunken house party, and then sleepover and have pillow fights with, and then spin the Shaggs, B-52's and Holy Golightly with when we woke up in the morning, if you can follow that fantasy scenario. These girls are on fire!
We have to thank Japan's EM Records - actually, we've been doing that a lot lately - but this time we have to thank 'em for turning us on to the celestial soundworlds of dronologist Yoshi Wada. If you've read our reviews of EM's two previous Wada reissues, you know he's a Japanese sculptor/composer who made his way to New York City in the late '60s, delving into the Fluxus conceptual art movement and hanging out with folks like pioneering minimalist LaMonte Young. In 1982, Wada issued an LP entitled Lament For The Rise And Fall Of Elephantine Crocodile, featuring his voice and homebuilt instruments. When it was reissued on EM last year, we were bowled over by its unique deep drone soundings. EM's second Wada reissue, The Appointed Cloud, from 1987, was equally amazing.
Happily, there's more Wada releases in the vaults than we'd thought. Now EM has brought out a cd version this one, Off The Wall, which was originally released on vinyl in 1985 by the German free improv label FMP. Dubbed a "majestic minimalist monsterpiece" by EM, it consists of two long tracks (over twenty minutes each), a part one and part two of the same performance, which features the bagpipe blowing of Yoshi Wada and colleague Wayne Hankin, along with the "adapted organ" (pipe organ put together by Wada) played by Marilyn Bogerd, and the percussion of Andreas Schmidt-Neri.
EM have also added a bonus cut - this third (and even longer than either of the others, at 27:14) track, "Die Konsonanten Pfeifen", was recorded in Berlin in 1983 and originally issued as a cassette. Again, Wada and Hankin play the bagpipes, this time accompanied by percussion (tympani, tam tam, and cymbal) from one Kevin Newhoff, which kicks in, with a hiccup, near about the halfway point, providing steady, ominous pulsations that bring to mind some of the portentous mood of Strauss's "Also Sprach Zarathustra".
Bagpipes, that's right, this is bagpipe music. But it doesn't sound much like Scotland's The Black Watch. Maybe if the Royal Highland Regiment were marching to 20th century avant-classical. Keening endlessly, the twin bagpipes of Wada and Hankin weave exotic-sounding tones and overtones together in slowly shifting, shimmering patterns, that seem to keep one step head of your sensory apparatus, so that you realize there's something new going on in the piece only after you've been hearing it already for a few moments. The effect of these modulations is quite mesmeric, almost meditative, New Age with an edge, like Phill Niblock meets Terry Riley, taken to a Far Eastern extreme. The multiple instrumental voices blend into one total drone, yet upon examination each has its own wending and winding part to play. The usual repetition of "minimalist" music isn't so mechanically evident here, Wada's drones floating high into the expanses of space, combining with the rumbling earth-bound drums to achieve a sort of ceremonial aspect and dramatic impact.
Yes, thank you EM! This is packaged in the usual excellent EM fashion, in a tri-fold sleeve with original liner notes in both English and Japanese translation, also b&w photographs, and a full-color reproduction of the original graphic score for "Off The Wall".
Recorded right after his stellar quartet of numbered records 1-4, 'Til the Band Comes In, was in our opinion, unfairly panned upon its original release in 1970. Now the Water label gives us all a chance to re-evaluate. While not his outright best record ever (that would be Scott 2!), and definitely not the weirdest (The Drift), it's noteworthy for being the beginning of his more experimental later period, while at the same time adopting the old school variety-show schtick of his television show in full force. The record starts out with a couple of moments of anticipatory sounds, a low rumble, a bit of noisy shuffling that wouldn't sound out of place at the start of any metal record today before the sonic onslaught is unleashed, but instead here we get an orchestra swooping into the full wall-of-sound pop production of the first song "Little Things (That Keep Us Together)", that harkens back to the sublime pop of The Walker Brothers. Other songs like "Time Operator" use the recordings of the telephone time lady as a backdrop for a ballad of utter loneliness. Largely the songs are of the big war-time ballad variety that we love from his previous records, with some moments of baroque country and ecstatic pop, only occasionally drooping into some vaudevillian schmaltz that is fun but not quite as endearing. The last few songs go into some well-worn covers territory like Classics IV's "Stormy" and "What Are You Doing The Rest of Your Life", which are performed well but seem to be reaching out to a different audience altogether. An admitted oddity in an already odd discography, this is still classic Scott Walker where hits and misses are pretty much relative to each listener.
Without a doubt, one of the most passionate and well written music magazines around. Now on their 30th issue, Wax Poetics has been a shining light for all of us who love and need plenty of soul, funk, psych and free minded jazz in our lives. This issue is "The Rock Issue" and there are some great articles on AQ favorites like Rodriguez, Black Merda and cover stars Bad Brains. Also a Turkish psych primer, memorial pieces on Bo Didley, Jimmy McGriff, Ike Turner and Buddy Miles, and more. There are really insightful features on the last great Elvis Presley record In Memphis, a great feature on Dave Bartholomew, interviews with The Rascals, Don Letts and Ernie Isley... Wax Poetics is really one of the only music magazines we devour and read cover to cover every issue. Informative and so well written, with such obvious love for the music they cover. Filled with tons of amazing photos as well, each issue always so cohesive and such an obvious labor of love.
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band is one of those groups whose status in the collectorskum underground means that I once spent $75 on one of their LPs. Ouch. Thankfully most of their recorded output has finally been put out on cd by the excellent
The voluminous liner notes (different in each of the three discs) are super interesting. I had no idea that what looks like the main guy in the band (he's in the middle in all the pictures) was this eccentric trust fund millionaire who kind of took over the band by buying them a big ole psychedelic light show system (their live shows were famous for this) and who was so annoying and odd that the other guys in the band tried to not let him do anything else on stage but play tambourine. The other band members, interviewed in the notes, say they hated him and feel like they would've been a better more popular band without him etc. Sour grapes! But perhaps that's what made the band so amazing, the push and pull of varying aesthetics resulting in a beautiful music.
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band is one of those groups whose status in the collectorskum underground means that I once spent $75 on one of their LPs. Ouch. Thankfully most of their recorded output has finally been put out on cd by the excellent
The voluminous liner notes (different in each of the three discs) are super interesting. I had no idea that what looks like the main guy in the band (he's in the middle in all the pictures) was this eccentric trust fund millionaire who kind of took over the band by buying them a big ole psychedelic light show system (their live shows were famous for this) and who was so annoying and odd that the other guys in the band tried to not let him do anything else on stage but play tambourine. The other band members, interviewed in the notes, say they hated him and feel like they would've been a better more popular band without him etc. Sour grapes! But perhaps that's what made the band so amazing, the push and pull of varying aesthetics resulting in a beautiful music.
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band is one of those groups whose status in the collectorskum underground means that plenty of folks found themselves forking over HUGE sums for copies of the original releases. Thankfully most of their recorded output was reissued on cd by the excellent reissue label Sundazed. And now released on vinyl by Reprise / Rhino. This band never quite made it big, never had a hit record, but god were they good. They were stalwarts on the LA pop scene in the late '60s and released six albums (we think). The music is arty and psychedelic but also totally appealing and approachable, like a weird mix of Capt Beefheart and the Association or the Byrds. Very fun and very "of its time" - with several anti-Vietnam War songs, the requisite sitars, Fifth Dimension-style vocals, lyrics invoking fairies and dwarves, etc. Their sound was alternately sweet and silly, epic and serious... and you must hear it!
We recently discovered that what looks like the main guy in the band (he's in the middle in all the pictures) was this eccentric trust fund millionaire who kind of took over the band by buying them a big ole psychedelic light show system (their live performances were famous for this) and who was so annoying and odd that the other guys in the band tried to not let him do anything else on stage but play tambourine. The other band members, say they hated him and feel like they would've been a better more popular band without him etc. Sour grapes! But perhaps that's what made the band so amazing, the push and pull of varying aesthetics resulting in a beautiful music. Needless to say, all three of these albums are essential listening, and these reissues are super swank, done up right, and not all that expensive. Definitely Recommended. ----* ----* Compilations : ----*
If you happen to be reading this review online and you get some unkempt bit of jibberish for the artist's name, this is Mika Vaino using his moniker of just an O with Slash through it. While the ascii may come out all screwy, we've been told that the correct pronunciation is "ohm." Anyway, Mika Vainio is the Finnish electronic genius who began recording in 1993 under this moniker with a handful of absolutely essential singles matching the equally essential Metri cd from 1994. Along with Ilpo Vaisanen, Vainio is also responsible for the equally Arctic but considerably more muscular techno project Pan Sonic (nee Panasonic). The records he's best known for embarked on a hyper minimal techno of 4/4 pulses smashing through phase-shifting patterns from his self-built synthesizers and so called "complex sound generators." Recently, the rigidity of Vainio's techno architecture has given way to slinkier grooves of variable breakbeats and plenty of excursions into electro-acoustic abstraction. As cool as his devices are, he's never been one to muster anything truly exceptional without being grounded upon rhythmic principles; and for the most part, Vainio delivers the beat. And he delivers a mighty fine album of frozen electronica. The tracks are dominated by very groovy breakbeats with pristine electronic melodies, frigid ambient gestures and descending icy tones with slinky basslines. It's certainly more captivating than Alva Noto or Ryoji Ikeda, but coming from a similar place. Vainio also offers a mighty fine cover of Pink Floyd's "Set The Controls To The Heart Of The Sun" with the vocals cast as an downer electroid riff laced with acid squiggle. Recommended!
