The Steel Mammoth is back! Clanking across the frozen Finnish tundra, bellowing mightily... well no, not quite. This 'New Wave Of Finnish Heavy Metal' project from members of AQ faves Circle is not exactly what you might expect (unless you've heard them before). Despite the Satanic/Barbaric cover graphics, with cartoon death's heads grimacing in horned helmets in front of a glowing pentagram, and the various other oh-so-metal signifiers like the lyrics, song titles, stage names, etc., Steel Mammoth's unique brand of "metal" doesn't sound all that metal, though it sure is strange. These guys call it NWOFHM. In our review of their first full-length, we coined the term NWOFWTF? to describe 'em. Maybe it is a parody, but if so they take their joke pretty seriously (this is their 2nd full-length after all).
Ok, if you haven't heard 'em, but have heard Circle, imagine that band in leather and spikes (which they are known to wear anyway), having been exposed to strange drugs and radiation, as well as repeated spins of records by The Cult, Manilla Road, Voivod, uh, Dire Straits, the new Darkthrone, and Judas Priest's earliest, more psychedelic stuff (Rocka Rolla!). Then imagine something totally different as well. Right from the start they are deliberately NOT particularly heavy, playing boogie-metal riffs, yes, but in such a laid back, mellowed out fashion it's ridiculous, and ridiculously catchy. They do rock out a bit more on track two, "Black Gold Tyrant", picking up the pace further on the likes of "Steel Factor" and "Nuclear Gyration" (the latter really kicking up some heavily-effected dust), but those tracks are pretty poppy too.
Meanwhile, Steel Mammoth's "radiation rock" is adorned with drawled vocals, delivering amazing absurd lyrics that must be tongue in cheek - informing us that "flesh is weak, metal is forever" and singing lines like "crystal daybreak in the valley of blood/bone and steel crash forever non-stop/heads keep on rollin', battlecries die/corpses keep rottin', vultures take the sky". Yet even when you think the lyrics aren't serious, Steel Mammoth's music will take a turn into emotive, introspective moodiness that can't be funny, and you realize the singer is in fact crooning quite earnestly. Maybe. But there's definitely a method to their madness, one that involves a complex mythology of their own making, about atomic eggs and other cryptic mysteries. The moments of true beauty (like the lovely, sleepy "Waiting For The Goat") don't seem intentionally bathetic at all, even though grins and giggles are never far away. Let's face it, we're happily confused by Steel Mammoth, moreso even than by other NWOFHM efforts from Krypt Axeripper, Motorspandex, and related acts.
While we wish we could take it all completely seriously (or think that it was supposed to be taken completely seriously), knowing the Circle guys we also appreciate their strange humor... Heck it even says ON THE CD TRAY that this is their "disappointing second album". But we must disagree. No disappointment at all. We're lovin' it, from the moment we saw the cover art, through each of many, many spins.
The return of our favorite one man Tasmanian rain forest black metal horde, the mighty Striborg, whose damaged outsider lo-fi black buzz has held us in its thrall since the very first time we heard it years ago. Even though this is only the second Striborg release we've managed to get enough of to review and list, there have actually probably been more like a dozen full lengths from Striborg so far...
And lord knows we've tried to track down enough copies of those old releases to list, but as they are all self released on Striborg mainman Sin Nanna's own label, they've been mighty tough to get a hold of. Thankfully, he's taken to tacking on old out of print records at the tail end of new records. So here we've got the brand new full length Nefaria, coupled with his '95 demo A Tragic Journey Towards The Light. And the amazing thing is that even after all that time, and all those releases, the sound is just as lo-fi, fucked up and damaged as ever. The atmosphere is creepy and gloomy, the vocals a strangled croak swathed in reverb, the drums a stumbling thrashing mess, a dank black buzz that writhes and squirms, filthy and mysterious and so fucking awesome. There are some haunting ambient tracks too, whirring warbly synths drifting wraith like, sometimes with a lurching subtle beat buried way down in the mix, but for the most part, it's all damaged buzzing blackness, wrapped around bizarre arrangements and loads of lo-fi hiss and whir. Amidst the weirdness there are some breathtaking moments, moody and emotional and strangely haunting, like the first half of closer "Black Apparitional Void" a slowcore midtemo Burzumy buzz replete with distant keyboard melody and gorgeous minor key melodies, as lovely and sorrowful as it is buzzy and black, with bizarre muddy swells that briefly swallow up the entire song before quickly receding back into the murk, before the song lurches into a dizzying squall of buzzing guitars, processed vocals, and bizarrely recorded drums, the rest of the track going from lo-fi to even more lo-fi and back again.
But then we're only scratching the surface as far as lo-fi is concerned, cuz up next is Striborg's very first recording, A Tragic Journey Towards The Light, which is so lo-fi and so liberally sprinkled with effects, that at times it stops being black metal and becomes some weird swirling morass of black sound. The drum machine is doused in reverb, doubling and blurring, almost like some hyperspeed dub, during the super dynamic start and stop parts, the vocals and the drums are so caked in FX, that they sound like some sort of children's TV show special effects sounds, and the vocals, a garbled tongue twisting whatthefuck stream of growls and guttural yelps, the guitar a squiggly distorted streak over the churning blur beneath, so completely over the top and confusing to listen to, but so completely and impossibly catchy. This is the Striborg that ensorcelled us back in the day, and it sounds just as amazingly fucked as ever!
If black metal has a "Jandek" then Striborg might be it. Certainly, an argument can be made that black metal itself is already "outsider art" and then if that's the case, where to put Striborg? Outside the outside. So much of Striborg's eccentrically intimate, idiosyncratic output (this disc holding many fine examples, for instance at one point when it sounds like he's playing the violin in the shower) is so exquisitely wrong it's right, so inadvertently avant-garde and very much trance-inducing that of course Striborg is a big AQ fave. Until recently, though, it was easier for us to get Jandek cds than those of Striborg. But at long last the gates to Striborg's lair have swung open, and the many previously hard-to-find recordings by this Tasmanian black metal savant (as you may know, Striborg is a "band" staffed solely by the mysterious Sin-Nanna) are now readily available to us... and to you, the discriminating consumer of fucked-up black metal. Among the many Striborg discs that we for so long wanted but were unable to stock, is this one. Another essential in Striborg's damaged discography for sure. This cd combines two demos from 2002 and 2003, so it's material from pretty early on in Sin-Nanna's career of evil, though his demo-days go back as far as 1997, and these are in fact the final two (4th and 5th) demos released before he started making "proper albums" instead, although production-wise we can detect no great differences! This cd compilation of those two demos was originally released in 2003 by Striborg's own Finsternis Productions in a limited edition of 500 copies, and has now been resurrected by Displeased (along with, as we said, several other desirable Striborg artifacts).
Nocturnal Emissions consists of the title track, followed by "Despondent Cries", "Son Of The Moon", and "The Freezing Northland". The latter is interesting 'cause you'd think in Striborg's case it would be "The Freezing Southland", being so nearby to Antarctica, but it turns out that this track is a tribute to another one-man black metal cult, Norway's Ildjarn. We should also note that "The Son Of The Moon" is dedicated to Sin Nanna's baby boy, Zachariah aka Sin-Nanna junior (the name Sin-Nanna that of the god of the crescent moon in ancient Sumer, btw). This might be the first and only black metal song written by a proud father to his newborn son! In welcoming his child to "this world of tragedy, magic and sorrow", he tells him, "the stars of Aquarius is [sic] on your side".
Otherwise, Striborg's lyrical themes are entirely depressive and misanthropic, all mope-tropes matched of course by his music, the ever-present droning black buzz, a fuzzed-out spray of monochrome guitar distortion, through thick fields of which wander Striborg's special, utterly non-metroymic drum-stumble and over which he rasps his despondent cries.
The four tracks of Nyctophobia are next, "Under Black Rain", "Through The Dark Fog", "Across Thornfields", and "Into Night Moor". We'll single out "Under Black Rain" for mention, as it's composed entirely of what sounds like woozy violin improv, his jittering string-scrape punctuated by a resonating gong-blows, mixed with field recordings of drizzling rain and ominous thunderclaps... we'd be happy with just a whole disc of just that! But each track here has its unique charms, "Through Dark Fog" in particular notable for Sin-Nanna's excessively distorted vocal turn. And "Into Night Moor" is a beautiful outro of isolationist electronic ambience. It seems everything he touches turns, not to gold, but to blackened weirdness. Weird enough we assure you that you'll be giving your stereo strange looks and often rewinding to hear some choice bit of bizarreness again and again, if you share our taste in outsider black metal oddity! None more sublime than Striborg.
We'll have reviews of a couple more Striborg reissues soon (Trepidation and Spiritual Catharsis) and also look forward to a new release, the Journey Of A Misanthrope DVD...
Once again, we head back into the grim black rainforests of Tasmania, to unearth more of one-man-black-metal-misanthrope Striborg's amazing back catalog, a constantly evolving and devolving soundworld of washed out buzz, chaotic black blur, and haunting dreamlike ambience. If you're already a fan, and have made it this far in Displeased's reissue campaign, odds are you're probably gonna want this one too, and if you've yet to experience the gloriously grim what-the-fuck brilliance of Striborg, then this is as good a place to start as any, in fact it might be one of the best ones to begin with as it's the most varied, and thus the most freaked out and bizarre.
Beginning with a surprisingly melodic almost poppy guitar part, 2004's Spiritual Catharsis quickly unravels into the buzzing stumbling confusional blackness that's so near and dear to our withered hearts. The core of Striborg's sound, is the ever present sheet of white noise guitars, that still sounds like a microphone placed on the floor of a shower, a constant and nearly overwhelming shhhhhooooosshhh. While behind this wash of hissy sibilance, lurk creaking shrieked vocals, and simple stumbling drums, and of course thick epic washes of grandiose keyboard. The drums flipping between punk rock pound and doomic plod, while that wall of blown out buzz remains fairly static. Totally hypnotic. At it's most straight ahead, it sounds like a way more blissy Burzum, loping and midtempo, with those haunting keyboards offering up creepy minor key melodies, but where Burzum buries those keys in the mix, Striborg shoves them right to the front, where they warble and whir and threaten to swallow up the rest of the sounds around it.
But as we mentioned before, Spiritual Catharsis is all over the map. "Glorification Of Mother Nature" is a gorgeously minimal expanse of ambient creep, sci fi synths swirling and shimmering, soft focus layers of sound shifting subtly like fog in an old crumbling graveyard, but then there's the title track, thirteen minutes long, probably the harshest and most chaotic of the bunch, the guitars whipped into a nearly Merzbowian frenzy, the effects so dense it's almost like black metal dub, the vocals careening and rippling out in all directions, the drums like a landslide of snares, the whole thing enveloped in a rippling cloak of black ambience, until part way through when the track shifts into some cinematic doom, the hiss and buzz pushed back a bit, allowing low end rumbles and whirs to play out a super intense melody, while the drums lurch and stutter, other keyboards joining the fray, drifting like soft glowing orbs against the jagged buzzy backdrop, before finally building back up into the fierce fury of the track's opening. The rest of the record constantly shifts between buzz and bliss, blast and crawl, from the minimal rumbling drone of "The Haunted Gum Trees", to the relentlessly blasting black chaos of "Misanthropic Necroforest", to the echo drenched plodding doom of "Dicksonia Antarctica" (replete with more of those dubbed out FX), to the tripped out funereal dreaminess of "Eternal Blackness Surrounds The Bushland", to the full on pounding in-the-red crush of "Black Metal Is The Forest Calling...", Spiritual Catharsis, is indeed just that, a spiritually cathartic, beautifully bizarre, darkly droning musical journey through a black forest of sound, and into the even blacker musical mind of Striborg
Re-mastered, with all new artwork, including a swank metallic silver front cover, and drawings and lyrics inside.
Another fantastic document of Svarte Greiner's abstract ambient acoustic doom. Not doom in the traditional sense, but more a sort of darkly mysterious, slow motion sprawl that shares a mood and sprit with doom music, although sonically it falls more in line with the free noise limited cd-r crowd.
This super limited lp captures three long tracks, that all seem to flow together into one epic (or they would if it didn't require flipping the record over), groaning strings, splattery percussion lay out a sort of free jazz / abstract folk drift, fluttery woodwinds, bits of rumble and shimmer, all billow out into a skeletal dronemusic, spare and spacious, that builds in intensity, becoming a brooding slow burning almost post rock, culminating in a thick wash of blurred buzz and textured low end whir, heavy and hypnotic, a little psychedelic and spacey.
The flipside begins with a field recording, or what sounds like one, beneath which lurks barely audible tones, shimmery strings strange vocalizations, bleating horns, all super minimal and way off in the distance, eventually all coalescing into a placed stretch of minimal ambience, deep ominous rumbles crumble beneath glassy expanses of glassy glimmer, until finally, another thick guitar heavy drone surfaces, turning he track into a near static downtuned dirge, not metallic, more dense and layered and lush, shot through with streaks of feedback and chunks of looped buzz, crumbling and roiling and slowly fading out.
So beautiful. Definitely for fans of Aidan Baker, Xela, Acre, Tunnels, Fear Falls Burning, RST, The North Sea, and other masters of dark droning ambience. Incredible packaging too, two tone printing on heavy chipboard sleeves, LIMITED TO ONLY 300 COPIES.
They don't make music like this any more. At least not much. But it seems that in some little corner of Virginia (let's call it Richmond), there's a healthy scene of emo/screamo/punk rock/post punk whatever the fuck you want to call it happening, and all we know is it's noisy and heavy and chaotic and angular and mathy and we love it. There are probably tons of little scenes like this all over, and if you're in one, then by all means send us some music. But for now we'll keep digging deeper into this particular scene. We listed the debut cd from Richmond's The Catalyst recently, and holy shit did that record kick our asses, and now we have Sweat Lodge, who take a lot of the same influences, old Amrep, Drive Like Jehu, San Diego Gravity style screamo, all sorts of post punk, and pack it into 6 songs in ten minutes, angular, frenzied, frenetic, heavy, lots of parts, throat shredding vocals, freaked out drumming, guitars that chug and crunch and squeal, and even some actual hooks snuck in there.
By now you know if this is your cup of tea or not, it's most definitely ours.
LIMITED TO ONLY 100 COPIES!!! The packaging is super complex, intricate line drawings, water colored, printed on beige cardstock and hand cut into an elaborate fold out sleeve, really really cool!
Many of the records we love best are the ones that are the most difficult to figure out where we would file them in the store. Such is the case with the engaging and genre transcending aural delights of Polish sound artist Dawid Szczesny. His sounds are filled with suspense and restraint. You can tell he is someone whose love of music and sound spans a wide distance yet he has the skill and foresight to keep his creations fluid and filled with a brimming mood that never resorts to melodrama and never goes over the top, crafting soundscapes that remind us of everything from Moondog to Pierre Bastien to Philip Jeck to J.P. Shilo to a more elegant and restrained take on what many in the Chicago jazz/post-rock scene aimed to create (Tortoise, Chicago Underground Duo, Isotope 217 etc.).
We've been loving so much of what Porter has been putting out but this release is really getting tons of play and might be our favorite of their non-reissue releases yet!
Not sure why this never got listed, but if it had, we definitely wouldn't have any left. A killer match up, one man drone against blown out psych rock trio.
A deluxe vinyl version of a long out of print cd-r. Heavy winged kick up some serious shit with their sidelong jam, freaked out andheavy as fuck, a serious sonic pumelling for sure. Taiga Remains offers up a gorgeous thick fuzzed out dronescape, and tacks on a bonus track not on the original cd-r.
Packaged in over the top hand screened vinyl sleeves with cut out triangular stickers artfully arranged on top, Pressed on foggy clear vinyl. LIMITED TO 300 COPIES! We're guessing this is probably WAY out of print, we do have 5 or 6 in stock, and odds are that's all we'll ever get...
A wayward psychedelia and an English eccentricity sets Darren Tate apart from many of his psychedelic dronework counterparts. He's unashamed to declare his infatuation with cats and gnomes throughout his many productions. His early recordings with Andrew Chalk (amongst others) as Ora had self-released through their imprint Gnome Records with a few of Tate's kooky watercolors of cats gracing the covers of those albums. Old Pointed Hat was ostensibly to be Tate's "Christmas" album, but he decided to go with the gnome theme once again... at least for the cover art. It's hard to see how gnomes fit into this primitive recording for electronics and guitar, which sounds more like something that should have come out on Snatch Tapes back in 1982, and was only now rediscovered by the bloggers. It's clear by now that Tate has become less interested in the pure drone, pushing more towards an expressive urge through gesture and abstraction. Tate sets up his Roland 101 synthesizer to randomly shuffle through a stoccatic sci-fi bleepity-bloop that slowly evolves into a malcontent post-TG turgid pseudo groove. Throughout this evolution, Tate interjects with a metallic splatter of splintered guitar noise coupled with radio interference and warbles of odd distortion. Growled sawtooth low-end noise and horror / sci-fi half melodies elsewhere on the album give an early Maurizio Bianchi / Hospital Productions vibe. Limited to a 50 copies.
Pummeling, cavernous and, needless to say, HEAVY. Portland's Tecumseh offer up another cathartic dose of slow motion, glacial rust. Dream-doom realizations of soul sucking necromancy. Sprawling, low-end riffs shrouded in warm distortion, drifting feedback and subtle electronics. And like we've said before, with this type of ambient sludge, its all about THE RIFF, and Tecumseh has definitely got it down. So while some of this plays like an homage to Earth 2, Avalanche and Inundation manages to take things a step forward. The gorgeous chord progressions move with a tectonic hugeness that is more marvelous and immersive than most drone-sludge outfits. Towering and fully engulfing, Tecumseh's brand of heavy hypnosis will weigh you down into infinity and leave you there to rot. Usually a three piece consisting of two basses and one guitar, Tecumseh appears as a five piece here with two other dudes on electronics and cymbals (at least that's what we heard, since the liner notes don't mention instrumentation). This cold ripping disc of hollow desolation is highly recommended for your next descent into hell.
When we reviewed Halo's seminal Guattari (From the West Flows Grey Ash and Pestilence) album, we described them as "one of the heaviest, creepiest, most intense bands we have heard", we went on to compare them to Godflesh and Neurosis and Earth and Whitehouse and Cop Shoot Cop and Gore and Noisegate, holy shit, just writing that has us wanting to hear Halo again...
Anyway, it's been at least 5 years since we've heard a peep out of Halo, but even back in the day, one of the Halo guys had a side project called Terminal Sound System, which at the time ditched the crushing industrial metallic pummel of Halo in favor of creepy dark ambience and skittery electronica. Well since then, it seems that Terminal Sound System has developed into a full time concern, and in the process TSS's sound has soaked up all kinds of electronic music along the way, from jungle to dubstep, while remaining creepy and heavy and super intense, and we are digging it big time.
The record begins with some creepy pulsing ambience, the drums an almost jazzy skitter, until 'the drop', where the background sounds grow jagged and harsh, the drums exploding in a squall of rhythmic freakout, before it immediately simmers right back down. It almost sounds like a junglized Necks, long stretches of smokey dark shimmer, peppered with blown out blasts of grinding metallic dubstep rhythms and thick buzzing drones. But then the song shifts gears, and the drums pull way back, returning to their muted skitter, while over the top, Young Gods like guitar loops add a sort of carnivalesque prog element to the proceedings, growing ever more dramatic and tense, exploding in an incredible climax of massive rumbling bass, like some sort of doom dubstep. Fuck, I know we say this all the time, but that track alone is worth the price of admission.
But moving forward, the title track, is a brooding chunk of old school tech-step jungle, with plenty of blackened droney ambience hovering beneath the still sort of jazzy programmed drum and bass stutter. "Year Of The Pig" is another fractured take on dubstep, the drums, chopped and hiccuppy, heavy with FX, careening from space-y shuffle to dense staccato pound, while all around the beat swirls minor key piano stabs, swooshing spaced out effects, shards of metallic buzz, the whole track freezing occasionally and locking into a super jagged stop start stutter. Again, somehow the sound is a bit jazzy, but so heavy and dark and aggressive...
The rest of the record is all over the place, from subtly industrial post rock, complete with chiming guitars hook filled melodies, and strange effected vocals, sounding almost like a Jesu / Nadja sort of thing, to dark shimmery black ambience laced with super low bass buzz, and haunting minor key swells, to Eastern Muslimgauze style electronic drifts, to what can only be described as a sort of fractured dubstepped cabaret jazz, to fuzzy gauzy, reverb drenched Portishead-ish downtempo shimmer, to epic, ethereal blissed out post rock electronic drone, like Jesu meets Godspeed meets Asbestoscape, which is how the record finishes up.
Seriously fucking awesome. Has us wanting to hear more Terminal Sound System, and has us hankering to go back and revisit Halo as well...
The "Folk Metal Special" begun last issue continues in this ish of the premier British 'extreme music' magazine, with a focus on pagan black metal such as Vintersorg, Negura Bunget, Skyforger, and others. American "Freak folk" gets a look in too, with features on Agalloch and Jex Thoth. Elsewhere this issue, you get Enslaved (on the cover), Arckanum, Destruction, Toxic Holocaust, Burst, Swallow The Sun, The Haunted, Gojira, Slayer, Amon Amarth, and tons more. Including tons of reviews. And of course there's a free bonus cd sampler glued to the front.
Thee new issue of this metal readin' essential has Norwegian black metal icons Satyricon on the cover, just in time for Christmas, we mean, their new album. Also: Bloodbath, Cradle Of Filth, Cynic, Paradise Lost, Napalm Death, Aura Noir, Misery Index, Down, and many many more - in fact, there's a brand new section "Choice Cuts" devoted to brief bits on a whole bunch of more underground acts, like Oakenshield, Book Of Black Earth, Phazm, SerpentCult, Guillotine, Outlaw Order, and plenty more we'd actually never heard of before.
Plus lots of other features, including a 20th anniversary label report on Lee Dorrian's stoner/doom institution, Rise Above. And of course tons of reviews, one of the main reasons to pick this up every month for sure. Also, there's the usual free sampler cd stuck to the cover.
Best pull quote of the issue: "I spelt 'U' as 'V' so it looked cooler". That's from the "Choice Cuts" piece about Swedish one-man band Doom:Vs.
Another band of slow heavies from New Orleans, following in the deep muddy footprints of the original NOLA sludgelords Eyehategod, and while Thou do in fact share much sonically with their legendary forefathers, they inject way more melody into the proceedings, some stretches are downright pretty, still caked in filth and crust, but weirdly melodic and pretty.
In fact in some ways, Thou seem to be drawing on true UK doom for inspiration as much as their fellow NOLA noisemakers, Paradise Lost, old Cathedral, My Dying Bride, sure the vocals are harsh and throat shredding, the drums a lugubrious pound, the rhythm a lurching almost groove, but the melodies and the arrangements almost soar at times, the sound epic and massive, the melodies expanding what might otherwise be more of the same old sludge, in fact there are long stretches of undulating heaviness where the riff becomes a sprawl of near static buzz, and harmonies glisten and drift over the top, but it's never long before the band slip back into their grinding downtuned lumber and pummel.
Fans of the usual dooooooomy crawl will not be disappointed, if you love Moss, Monarch, Corrupted, Trees, Bunkur, you'll pretty much definitely dig this, but Thou mix it enough to maybe convince some of the more skeptical freaks out there, that there's more to sludge than just pummel and pound. Definitely recommended.
Tobacco would definitely be a strange name for a group. But it's an even stranger name for a -person-, except when you realize, that person is in fact the twisted mastermind behind the cracked electro pop of aQ faves Black Moth Super Rainbow. In our review of the most recent BMSR record, we compared their sound to Air covering Daft Punk, but with a bunch of junky old equipment, busted up amps and rickety swap meet synths. What's not to love?!?!
For Mr. Tobacco's first solo foray, he actually sticks pretty close to the Black Moth template he created, but does manage to give that sound a little twist. The instantly recognizable fuzzed out gritty synths, the stuttery crunchy crumbling beats, the chopped up vocodered vocals, the blissy eighties sheen, all in full effect, but up the hip hop vibe a bit, mix in some ethereal female vocals, some borderline cheesy (but still kick ass) cop show theme song groove, handclaps, fluttering flutes, soaring cinematic faux strings, even some rapping at one point (courtesy of Aesop Rock, who took BMSR on tour earlier this year), and we're slipping into Fucked Up Friends territory. A few of the tracks are instant classics, sounding sometimes like a more sunshine-y hip-hop flecked Goblin, other times like a more lo-fi synth heavy Boards Of Canada, and once in a while like an LSD dosed Daft Punk doing the soundtrack for a nature special on Yo MTV Raps all about jellyfish or mountain goats or those weird fish that glow in the dark. WTF?! But par for the course with Tobacco and his Black Moth Super Rainbow. And while there does seem to be a bit more hip hop happening here, it's essentially another gloriously fractured and fucked up BMSR record, which is just fine with us!
Tombi may be no more, or at the very least, he's keeping a crazy low profile. We carried a Tombi tape years ago that we absolutely loved, and Black HumidMist is more of the same, thick glacial drones constructed from electronics and old synths, a heady mix of soft shimmery and corrosive crunch. The first track here is a brief four minutes of glistening sympathetic tones, beneath a strange oscillating low end whir, quite tranquil and spaced out, before slipping into the 29 minute second track, which begins with a super hushed distant tone, soft focus and warmly woozy, before the low end surfaces, and the track is dramatically transformed into a thick wall of corrosive crumbling synth damage... The cool thing though is that beneath the blackened smoldering surface, major key melodies spiral out, long tones overlapping and intertwining into warm rich chordal shimmer, turning white noise into a thick wash of prismatic noise drenched mystery. Partway through, the noise component falls away, leaving a warm, rich rumble, but gradually, the edges begin to fray, and the sound explodes once again, going through various stages eventually arriving at a state of total grinding black bliss. Definitely noisy, but really quite pretty, worht getting lost in Tombi's corrosive din, to discover the blackened gem lurking inside.
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES, loooong out of print, we have barely ten of these, so once these are gone, they are gone forever...
Another mysterious black metal horde from the great white North, hailing from Quebec, Canada, Triskele, like many of their French Canadian black metal countrymen, have much in common with their actually French brethren, owing much to the Black Legions and the various groups and scenes that brief movement inspired.
Les Murmures is not new, it was actually released way back in 2003, and there are two more recent records, but as those two were SUPER limited and both seem to be out of print now, we figured that probably some of you, like us, managed to miss out on this, which is a shame, as this is some seriously blown out, buzz drenched, miserablist black metal.
Supposedly Les Murmures was recorded in a forest (Like Ulver's epochal Nattens Madrigal) and it definitely sounds like it could have been, after a brief ambient keyboard / chanted intro, the band spews forth a churning torrent of crumbling black distortion and blasting drums, almost totally obscured by the sheet of hiss and buzz that envelops the proceedings. Almost more than a forest, this sounds like it was recorded in a cave, or at the bottom of a well, or in some massive concrete bunker. The vocals are a harsh glass gargling howl, inexorably tangled up with the buzzing reverb drenched guitars, and those drums that sound more like a wall of cymbal sizzle punctuated by barely audible rhythmic pulses, but don't get us wrong, it sounds AMAZING, super lo-fi and totally raw, slipping from chaotic stumbling blast, to lurching doomic creep and back again. Some tracks are explosions of furious white noise buzz and relentless drum splatter, but when the band locks into a groove, and slows it down a bit, the depressive genius shines through, the vocals transforming into an hysterical shriek, all manner of melancholy and mournful melodies rising to the surface, before being obliterated by another frosty white blast of black fury.
Then there's the title track, a nearly 12 minute stretch of buzz and drum ambience, the drums pounding out some tribal rhythm, while all around it streaks of whir and buzz swirl and swoop, the drummer also managing to incorporate some unlikely percussion, there's even some primal wailing at one point, it's actually nearly impossible to imagine this track NOT being performed in the forest, lit by firelight, the mysterious haunting sounds holding the woods' wild beasts at bay.
WAY recommended. Essential for fans of outsider depressive blackness and grim blown out black forest buzz.
You know how you can go on at length about this and that, but when you prepare to talk about that one thing you totally love, you find yourself completely tongue tied. I, Andee, kind of feel like that about this record. The minute we put this on, I knew this
Scott Tuma is probably not a household name to most of you, except those of you, who like me, were obsessed with Souled American, since that's where he spent most of the eighties, helping create those molasses slow, rickety bluegrass song-skeletons that we here at AQ love so much. And his time spent in Souled American shows here, on his first 'solo' record. But unlike the stoned and unsteady lurch of SA, 'Hard Again' is all crystalline shimmer, with Tuma's guitar, guiding us unsteadily through soundscapes of tape hiss and skittering snares, moaning chords and weeping melodies.
Take a little John Fahey, Jim O'Rourke's Bad Timing, Souled American, maybe some spacy Brian Eno, play it back on a ancient tape machine, and listen to these understated and completely gorgeous guitarscapes, warbling notes, shimmering harmonics and tape hiss and ambient noise all over. Some of the tracks take the Souled American sound and stretch it to its breaking point. Notes versus space, and the space always wins. But the space is never complete, each note rings out, reverberating into the next, creating a delicate latticework of notes and overtones. On one of the tracks a drummer chimes in, but takes a completely new direction with his kit, sounding as if pebbles and sand were being scattered on the snare, with rattles and sizzles scattered between the notes of the lush guitar. Probably the closest 'Hard Again' gets to an actual song is song 5. Wintery and glistening, with carnival melodies played unsteadily and gently, evoking late afternoon strolls through abandoned carnival midways, light blanket of snow on the ground, while the entire scene is hazy seen through the veil of snowflakes filling the sky. This record is just one long lush walk through a cloudy landscape of foggy daydreams and wistful memories. Similar to the way Philip Jeck takes turntables and crafts old fashioned film strip flashbacks of days gone by, Tuma, takes the guitar, and paints vivid images, faded by the passing of time, the snow on the ground, the water in the basement and the rays of the sun, and evidence by clicks and whirrs and hum, which only add another layer to this already rich document. SO so beautiful.
This is record number two from AQ fave Scott Tuma and it's just as beautiful as last year's Hard Again album that we couldn't stop raving about. For those who don't know, Tuma spent the majority of his career as the guitar player for stoned country deconstructionists Souled American. And Tuma has continued to deconstruct that sound even further. Taking the glacial slow motion country of Souled American as a jumping off point, Tuma manages to remove most of the distinctly 'song' elements and focus more on sound, and the impression of that sound. Slow and dreamy, full of space and even more purposeless in terms of song structure than ever, but consequently more effective at creating moods, evocative and stunning, epic and totally timeless. The instrumentation is simple, acoustic guitars, banjos, harmonica, organ, with plenty of ambient clatter, instrument buzz, foot steps, chairs creaking, breathing and shuffling all add to the spare beauty. Wheezing chords underpin purposeful notes gently plucked and left to hang momentarily in the warm air, before drifting gently out of earshot. Melodies slowly reveal themselves from a smattering of notes introduced slowly and sporadically somehow knowing that they will all eventually fall snugly into place. Lush, slowly shifting drones with barely-there melodies suspended within like insects in amber. Warm blankets of sound, woven simply, but perfect in their simplicity. Completely mesmerising and so soothing. Like Phill Niblock composing for Palace, or Godspeed backing up John Fahey, or Philip Jeck and a handful of country 78's. Simply amazing.
MPEG Download: "The River 1" [/audio/tumariver1.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "The River 1" [/audio/tumariver1.m3u]
It may be odd to single out one component of a series for Record Of The Week, especially when it's the second of a proposed three record trilogy. It's not that we didn't love the first installment, we did very much! And it's not like the Academy Awards where we're belatedly acknowledging the first installment by rewarding the second. It might be just that we didn't realize at the time the magnificent depth and far reaching direction in which Steven R. Smith would take his latest project. And as we have heaped tons of praise on his past work, we wanted to single out this project and particularly this installment as something utterly amazing and wholly breathtaking.
Despite the tons of killer music that goes in and out of the aQ doors, it's not everyday we get an album that really lifts us out of our seats and straight into an alternate dimension. The latest release under the Ulaan Khol moniker is a celestial trip into desolate plains where the water rises and the skies are ripped open.
A prominent member of the Jeweled Antler family, Steven R. Smith has been seriously influential in defining the California psych/drone sound for over a decade. We've mentioned it in plenty of reviews, so folks gotta be by now pretty aware of Smith's extensive discography, ranging from countless solo records to his releases as the Eastern European-tinged Hala Strana or with the famed JA flagship act Thuja.
The first Ulaan Khol record, though made up of nine untitled tracks, felt like one spacious drifting piece of big fuzzy distortion and fragile drone bliss. Something like the gorgeous feedback-laden free music of Les Rallizes Denudes or others from the Japanese Underground scene. We loved it a lot, but didn't go into extensive detail about it, probably because we had also just reviewed his Owl record (released under his own name) around the same time.
On II, we hear a lot more range. There are still the big swaths of massively distorted psych heaviness, but the eight untitled tracks feel more distinct and structured. Some tracks have faster Spacemen 3-like tempos and fuller driving progressions with pummeling drums mired way deep in the mix, while others feature more calm, drifty drones made up of intimate guitar, electric violin and organ passages that conjure up gorgeous swells of luminous sound. The pieces are more varied and layered, dense yet melodic and at times more rock-ish. The majestic guitar radiance Smith manages to create is not unlike the solo work of Kawabata Makoto or Tom Carter, but here we also hear shades of Roy Montgomery, Flying Saucer Attack and even Asa Osbourne from Zomes and Lungfish (Zomes being a recent Record Of The Week too).
As with the first disc, there are no liner notes, just an abstract painted cover, this time in bleak blue-grey winter tones. And inside the sleeve is an awesome painting of a lamp-holding monk (perhaps the same skull contemplating monk from the first disc) at the mouth of a giant cave! Yes!
Samy Ben Redjeb, the man behind the Analog Africa label, allegedly went through some 3000 records before picking the 14 tracks that make up this amazing compilation of mid-'70s sounds from Benin and Togo - the two smaller countries that happen to be sandwiched between Nigeria and Ghana, two of the dominant cultural forces in African music at that time. As much as the music included on African Scream Contest shows the influence of those neighboring heavyweights, there are plenty of other elements coming into the mix. You can hear Afro-Cuban horn blasts and clave rhythms alongside samba grooves and James Brown funk. That you can hear blues and soul being filtered through highlife, Afrobeat, and even traditional choral music is one of the things that makes this period of African music so exciting: no one influence holds any more sway than any other, and the result is something totally unique that manages to be strangely familiar while sounding like nothing you've ever heard in your life.
Like the title says, this stuff is definitely raw - you can hear musicians who not only taught themselves how to play, but in doing so created their own culture, national identity and music. For every influence pulled from elsewhere in the world (be it US funk or Brazilian rhythms), there's something distinctly regional through which it gets filtered; for example, Benin is the birthplace of voodoo, and that must surely have been an influence on the sense of wild abandon and frenzy that this music manages to capture so perfectly. Simply put, this is heavy stuff!
The standard for these kinds of compilations has been set incredibly high by labels like Strut, Sound Way, Soul Jazz and the like, but if anything Analog Africa have raised the bar even higher. It took three years of research, crate digging, interviews and detective work to put this compilation together and it shows: this presentation of the music, liner notes and archival materials is meticulous, loving and borders on obsessive. This is an amazing collection of songs that once again shows the incredible depth of cultural output happening in Africa in the '60s and '70s. It's a great time to be a fan of these musics, and this stunning compilation shows us exactly why. Recommended!
One of things we were most thankful for musically this year was the reemergence of Strut, the label we fell in love with for their great and deep digging tastes in booty moving obscure dance music from across the globe. Their Disco Not Disco comps are legendary for finding such outsider post-punk and left-field disco jams and they have released such amazing collections of Afrobeat, library music, old school hip-hop, etc. But the label seemed to disappear for the last few years so we were crazy stoked to see them back and on fire once again, with another volume of Disco Not Disco, as well as the awesome Funky Nassau: The Compass Point Story collection, Nigeria 70, Disco Italia, and more! Which brings us to their latest immaculately packaged, well researched and most importantly totally jamming collection of Caribbean soul and funk from 1969-1979. The twenty tracks on here range from very Western influenced classic soul & funk to steel pan fueled jams, reggae tinged burners and loud & proud political anthems. A whole bunch of artists we'd never heard before that we are loving as well as a few AQ favorites sprinkled throughout (Amral's Trinidad Cavaliers Steel Orchestra, Cedric Im Brooks). We're so happy that this great label is strutting their stuff once again!
Avid readers of the list know we love dancehall, from classic dancehall reggae, right up to the more aggro super heavy junglized ragga dancehall. And those same readers are probably well familiar with the Soul Jazz label, and their amazing, elaborate, painstakingly assembled, meticulously researched reissue compilations. Every one packed with classics and rarities in equal measure, always with a massive booklet packed with liner notes, info about all the tracks, anecdotes, photos and whatever else they can squeeze in there. You probably can tell where this is heading. Soul jazz releases now number in the hundreds, but they have yet to release a bum disc. This double cd keeps the streak alive BIG TIME.
An awesome and comprehensive primer on dancehall reggae, done in the inimitable Soul Jazz style. Have a look at the artists: Yellowman, Tenor Saw, Chaka Demus And Pliers, Barrington Levy, Sister Nancy, Cutty Ranks, Super Cat, Cornell Campbell, Gregory Isaacs, Eek A Mouse, Clint Eastwood, and that's just the ones we know, there's also Half Pint, Reggie Stepper, Horace Ferguson, Toyan, Early B, Trinity, Lone Ranger, Michigan & Smiley, Triston Palmer, Lady Ann, Brigadier Jerry, Conroy Smith and more and more and more.
And the tracks! A bunch of essential jams, some have found there way onto other comps, but many have NOT. If you're like us, that dancehall rhythm is just irresistible, such a killer groove, whether it's wrapped around mellow guitar and smooth crooning, or jagged melodies and rough and raw toasting, we just can't get enough. Pretty sure you're feel the same after filling your ears with all these jams.
Includes tons of amazing photos as well extensive notes on each track, and each artist.
Based entirely on how much a record gets played in the store, this double cd dubstep comp is probably just about the most popular record we have in stock these days. No matter who's working, it seems to get played practically nonstop, and every time it's on, we find ourselves going up to see what's playing. EVERY time. Makes perfect sense, this comp is jam packed with THEE JAMS, every single "hit" from the birth of modern dubstep, until NOW. Dubstep obsessives will still probably find tons of stuff here they're missing, especially considering that most of these tracks have never been on cd before now, and newbies, holy shit, you cannot do better than this as an intro to dubstep. Over two hours of stripped down dubbed out beats, every possible permutation of that dubstep warbly bassline, raga like toasting, murky mumbling vocals, fuzzed out synths, some tracks playful and fun, others dark and sinister, so much glorious glorious bass, buzzing and rumbling, throbbing, pulsing, pounding, all beneath skittery beats, and laid back grooves, abstract funk and dark moody ambience. Just have a look at the lineup: Skream, Caspa, Loefah, Benga, Distance, Headhunter, Pinch, Shackleton, Digital Mystikz, The Bug, Kromestar, 2562, Kode 9, Burial and loads more. We've raved about pretty much every dubstep record we've managed to get in, but of all of them, this one is definitely THE one to get. Even if you already have all the other ones, ESPECIALLY if. And if you're a big fan of classic dub, but have yet to check out this modern permutation, you owe it to yourself to give it a try, definitely pushes lots of the same buttons, but ups the lowend bigtime, making it darker, and heavier, much more physical, and WAY bassier, which is never a bad thing.
Another winner for the Nonesuch Explorer Series. Originally released in 1976, this entry focuses on the restrained yet dulcet tones of the shakuhachi, a five holed bamboo flute that has been used as an accompaniment for study and meditation in Japanese culture for well over a millennium. These five live performances by master flautist Kohachiro Miyata of the Ensemble Nipponia display a graceful yet glacial spareness that focus on subtle but revelatory moments of drama and tension rather than lyrical or melodic songforms. Akin to a philosophical reading of time moving through nature, like the sound of wind through reeds, or a ripple across a surface of water, this is music to slow our lives down and be ever blissfully aware of the eternal present moment in front of us.
Soon after heaping tons of praise on the mighty Enter The Dragon Soundtrack, we're thrilled to also see this killer compilation of unreleased De Wolfe library tracks drawn from the legendary Shaw Brothers martial arts films circa 1976-1984. If you've seen a Hong Kong Ku Fu flick of that vintage, chances are good you've seen a Shaw Bros. movie. Influencing everyone from The Wu-Tang Clan to Quentin Tarantino, these low-budget "bashers" with insanely impossible story lines have fed the fertile imaginations of midnight movie geeks for years. These 43 movie cues hand-picked by Gareth "Cherrystones" Goddard, Joel Martin and Jon Jigoku, display quite a sweeping emotional range of sounds: moody spy themes, old west-style standoffs, funky Moog passages, ritual drums, suspicious flutes and percussion, tense orchestrations, haunting siren song. The best part is the names the De Wolfe library gave the cues: "Electro Beat 5", "Nerve Stretch 2", "Tension Trip", "Moonbird", "Bitter Lemons", "Dogarnit". For the library music fan or martial arts geek in your life!
A comp featuring exclusive tracks by AQ faves like Circle, Jesu, and Stinking Lizaveta, among others?! Heck we'd want one even if it was a tribute album to, say, Kid Rock or Limp Bizkit. (Actually those sound like they'd almost be interesting in a sick sort of way.) This IS a tribute album, it's on the tribute-o-centric Dwell label after all, but the subject is much more acceptable: '60s psych legend Syd Barrett. And though we love early Pink Floyd and solo Syd too, none of us here are quite obsessed enough to expertly critique this comp's covers of Syd Barrett tunes from that side of things... but doubtless if that's the sort of detail you want, you can find some Internet chat page all aflame with commentary on the ins and outs and ups and downs of these bands' take on the music of Syd Barrett, who was most 'correct', and all. What we can tell you is, to our ears, this is a damn cool comp!
While tributes are often quick-buck cash-ins full of no-name acts, this one's good for several reasons, excellent songs to start with, with an equally excellent selection of bands doing the tributizing, several big-time AQ faves among 'em as we said: Circle! Jesu! Stinking Lizaveta! Unearthly Trance! freakin' Pentagram!! The compilers seem to have asked bands that lurk at the swirling vortex of heaviness/psychedelia/metal/prog and persuaded some of the best to put on the paisley and do their best Syd impressions.
Here's the full lineup: Kosmos (featuring Away from Voivod), Kylesa, Intronaut, Stinking Lizaveta, Jarboe (from the Swans), Pentagram, Giant Squid, Yakuza, Jesu, Unearthly Trance, Dredg, Circle, and Zodiak. Some do their Syd HEAVY, whereas others lighten up their usual sound. Intronaut definitely display some pop talent, and Stinking Lizaveta, normally all-instrumental, surprise with an excellent vocal rendition of "Matilda Mother" - but at about 1:48 into the song their true Stinking Liz identity comes to the fore, as they turn on the searing, psychedelic guitar soloing and bass-heavy groove. Lumbering cuts from Kylesa ("Interstellar Overdrive") and Zodiak ("See Emily Play") are true to form. Amidst this lineup, Jarboe's track, a version of "Late Night" (also recently covered by Belong on their Colorloss LP) is a bit of left turn, as it's all about her whispery vocals (nice, NOT annoying as sometimes we find her) and not so much about guitar like so many of the others here.
Some other random observations regarding a few of these tracks: Ancient doom metallers Pentagram, the oddest entry only 'cause it's so hard to believe they really exist in this time and place, stick close to the original of "Flaming", Bobby Liebling singing in his weird old man voice, but with an affected British accent (or maybe it's just how he often sounds a bit like Ozzy anyway). Giant Squid do a Syd song called "Octopus", natch, and make us want to check 'em out as we sorta slept on their album. Yakuza's intense version of "Lucifer Sam" really makes us think of Voivod - except Voivod, known for their Floyd covers, never did this particular one. Speaking of Voivoid, who here gets "Astronomy Domine"? Dredg, with a sparkling rendition. Jesu brings loads of shoegazing slo-mo fuzz and echoing vocals to their take on "Chapter 24", just as you might expect. And Circle's version of "Rats" is -very- Circle sounding, in their sorta folky-mode (a la their Forest album) with Mika Ratto's acid-gobbling vocals not at all out of place.
So, listen for yourself, this is one of those rare tributes you could probably enjoy either as a fan of the bands on it (as many of you are) and/or as a fan of the subject of the tribute. We imagine a Floyd freak could wind up getting into some cool new music as a result of this comp, and likewise it'll probably turn on some Jesu fans, or whatever, to the wonders Syd Barrett's melodic, acid visions.
And it's a "legitimate" tribute, in the sense that Syd Barrett and his Pink Floyd colleagues really were one of the crucial '60s artists to pioneer and make possible the wide range of weird, spaced out music we all love today, of which the bands on this comp are all good examples.
These Messthetics comps are so great. Truly a labor of love. So meticulously researched, pretty much ever single collection chock full of bands we've never heard of, with liner notes that read like a book about whatever scene or band is the focus of the comp. So here we go again, number 106 collects a bunch of rarities from The Manchester Musicians Collective. Heard of it? Neither had we. The Fall and Joy Division were the focal points, but this comp proves there were amazing things happening outside of the limelight. According to the liner notes, the four reasons that the MMC scene was different from the various other scenes were as follows:
1. The Buzzcocks, who inspired the scene to make it happen, to get involved, pick up instruments and start bands, set up shows and release records.
2. Live performances. The various meetings of the group helped fledgling bands get their shit together live and on stage, performing in front of their pals and peers, getting tight and honing their sound.
3. The MMC was not just for rocker dudes, there were plenty of gay teenagers and women making just as much noise as the guys in a scene predominantly male. And finally:
4. Incorporating more than just guitars into the sound, keyboards, synths, electronics, effects, all giving the bands a unique sound.
There's plenty more about the history and the development of the MMC, but as with anything it's all about the sound, and the songs, and the groups, and starting with the MMC's stars: Joy Division, The Fall and the Buzzcocks, you can get a pretty good idea of where they were coming from. But then there's groups like the Mud Hutters, who combined angular post punk guitars, with yowled throaty vocals and lurching tribal rhythms, with sheets of insectoid buzz. Or Grow-Up, who adding horns to their new wave, and wrapped it all around jangly guitar and funky rhythms, or Liggers, a punk rock band made up of three Catholic school girls who obsessed over Patty Smith but sounded more like Toto Coelo, or Passage, who tangled up simple rhythms with buzzing low end synths and spoken / sung vocals, or Bee Vamp, whose sound was very Devo, jagged jangle guitar, skronky synths, tribal drumming, and killer glammy vocals... and on and on it goes. So many amazing bands, one hit wonders (minus the hit), and groups who barely existed outside of the MMC scene, and who essentially don't exist at all outside of this comp. Hyped To Death should get some sort of grant, preserving musical history, like a punk rock Smithsonian. As will all of the Messthetics collections and pretty much everything on Hyped to Death, totally recommended.
We've given tribute albums a bit of stick in the past. After all, the things seem to be a dime a dozen, sometimes the result of genuine fannish enthusiasm but often just a commercially-motivated exploitative exercise. Yet, it's still hard not to be tempted by the concept, as long as the former rather than the latter motivation is in force. (In fact, our own Andee has plans for a tribute album of sorts on his tUMULt label: I'm Sorry And I Miss You, a black metal reimagining of Slint's Spiderland! So we can't bag on 'em all.) Hard to argue with a bunch of your favorite bands doing songs by another favorite, really. And those are obvious rules of what makes a good tribute: a worthy honoree (who has SONGS, not just a "sound"), and a roster of participants from whom you also want to hear. One good example, on this very list we highlight a highly enjoyable tribute to Syd Barrett that certainly obeyed all those rules.
The black metal realm has spawned a few tributes, the most worthwhile we can think of being the brilliant (and out of print) Darkthrone Holy Darkthrone. It certainly met those two basic tests of what would make a good tribute, featuring bands equally as famous and influential as Darkthrone themselves (which also made it that much more significant of a tribute, to see the likes of Emperor and Immortal bowing down to Darkthrone).
Likewise, in this case, Ulver is certainly a worthy subject. Early on, they were a true Norwegian black metal force to be reckoned with, whether in their acoustic folk mode or when doing their own tribute of sorts to Darkthrone, the brilliant Nattens Madrigal. Later, they morphed in many surprising ways, pretty much leaving the confines of black metal entirely but still somehow staying Ulver. In fact, if you put together an anthology of Ulver's "greatest hits" it would sound a bit like a various artists album itself, since their career has been so stylistically diverse, from grim black metal to experimental electronica... In some ways, it's cool to have this tribute just to provide a perspective on the wide range of Ulver's output. 'Cause one byproduct of a good tribute is to get you to go back and listen to the originals, maybe even giving some attention to songs you had previously overlooked. That said, we're also pleased to see that a chunk of the bands appearing on My Own Wolf chose to cover stuff from Nattens Madrigal...
The next question is, are the bands appearing here worthy? Well, we'll admit we haven't heard of rather many of them. It is a double cd, though, with a ton of tracks. And the ones we know, like Aidan Baker (Nadja) are all pretty interesting, kinda avant-garde metal bands that probably all really do look up to Ulver. Some play industrial-metal, others acoustic folk, everything in between and beyond, from trip-hop to psychedelia to dooooooooom, each finding at least one if not several aspects of Ulver's multifaceted career to worship, really. There's songs here from probably every Ulver release ever, including their demos! And these bands are from all over the place, a lot from Russia and France in particular, but also from Finland, Ukraine, Australia, Israel, Germany, Latvia, USA, Canada, Italy, Norway, Portugal, and Brazil!
Here's the lineup: Unfurl, Avathar, Mura Hachigu feat. Nokturnes, Smohalla, Asmodee, Selvmord, Sael, Otzephenevshiye, Wardaemonic, FB[Force], Karna, Fluoryne, Year Zero, Sinestesia, Pryapisme, Joey Hopkins Midget Factory, Aidan Baker, Panacea Enterpainment, project:a, Catapulus, Jaaportit, Wheel Of Knowledge, Zweizz, Bosque, Noises of Russia, and Ashtar.
While there's already one "official" tribute to Ulver of sorts (the remixes disc 1st Decade In The Machines) this one is perhaps more honest in its tributor-to-tributee relationships, i.e., no hipster cred required. It's certainly more "metal" but plenty of other things besides. Obviously, compared to some tributes, the lineup on My Own Wolf is drawn from far deeper underground. No A-list black metal acts here like on that Darkthrone tribute. But you have to imagine that any band interested in doing an Ulver cover is at the very least not an "ordinary" band. And, indeed, some of 'em here are pretty interesting, and we wouldn't have heard about 'em otherwise. You gotta hand it to Ulver: who else could inspire tribute from such a diverse selection of bands/genres?
ATTENTION JESU OBSESSIVES!!! If you're -really- and -truly- obsessed with Jesu, and maybe money is no object, then you just might want to pick this up. A pretty cool version of "The Funeral Party" all done up Jesu style, a little bit blissed out and eighties sounding, definitely a good match, Jesu and the Cure. And as far as we know, this is the only place to find that track. 7 minutes = $21.00, you do the math. "But what about the rest of the tracks" you ask? Well, it's all Cure covers which could be cool, and the money made goes to charity, but quite frankly, the rest of the compilation is pretty bad. Some of it, just so-so to middling, but some of it GODAWFUL. Totally cringeworthy.
Only a few bands we'd heard of: Dandy Warhols, The Muslims, Kaki King, Bat For Lashes, Indian Jewelry, Ex-Reveries. And sure there are a couple ok tracks tucked away in there, but for the most part, minus the Jesu song, you'd be much better off not wasting any of your valuable listening time here.
But back to you Jesu freaks, if you'd pay $20 for some rare 7" on eBay, this might just be the same difference...
Oh wow. It's here, though not for long. You may have seen it announced on our blog or elsewhere, and really should have preordered one... we've already sold most of the copies we got (which was a lot, as many as we could afford, really). But at the moment we still have, like, a dozen. And possibly will be able to restock a few again next week, though we don't know that for sure. The label only pressed 1000 copies, and we know they're going fast. So perhaps listing it here is just for posterity's sake.
So, what's all the excitement about you ask? If you're a fan of San Francisco's acclaimed Jewelled Antler collective of psychedelic/drone/improv/nature folks you should know, some years back (2003), they decided to release a series of 3" cd-r eps, once a month or so, with entries from JA regulars like Thuja, likeminded folks such as Dead Raven Choir and Antony Milton, and also odd, one-off quirky projects like Loren Chasse's frog-sounds disc dubbed Green Laughter. The idea was to release stuff that stood alone in twenty-minute doses and didn't need to be padded out to full-cd length. These cute lil' 3"s proved quite popular here at AQ, and of course are now long, long out of print like all Jewelled Antler cd-rs. Apparently a set will put you back about $100-120 on eBay nowadays, or until recently anyway... Well there'd been talk for some years now of these wonderful eps getting reissued on cd, in a box set or something, and lo it has finally come to pass thanks to the enthusiasm (and deep pockets) of Porter Records.
The Jewelled Antler Library box contains 4 discs in cardboard sleeves, Books One to Four, comprising all 12 original entries in the approximately-monthly 3" cd-r ep series plus some extra bonus material! 59 tracks, four hours and forty minutes in all. It breaks down like this... Book One: Loren Chasse/Tomes/The Ivytree/Hala Strana, Book Two: Dead Raven Choir/The Famous Boating Party/Uton, Book Three: Claypipe/The Muons/Thuja, Book Four: Fursaxa/Kemialliset Ystavat/The Ways Of God To Man. And interspersed between each of the thirteen volumes are twelve "Footpath" tracks of brand new field recordings by Loren Chasse, up-close-and-personal documents of rain and wind and other evocative textural cracklings and rustlings from the natural environment. The box also contains individual, full-color cards with the cover art and credits from each ep.
We reviewed all of them when they originally came out (or almost all of 'em, not sure what happened to the last few). Waste not, want not, so what follows is a conglomeration of our reviews of each library installment, slightly edited for clarity and to eliminate redundancies. Note how several of the entries in the series may have been the very first time we'd heard from a particular artist, such as Finland's Uton for instance, now well known to us and AQ customers...
Volume 1: Frogs!!! Can AQ-customers resist frog recordings? We think not. Certainly we can't. Green Laughter is primarily frog field recordings made and edited by Loren Chasse (Thuja, Id Battery, Of, Blithe Sons, etc.). It's twenty minutes of the call of the wild (featuring frogs, cicadas, and perhaps birds), starting off as a fairly straight documentary and then blending into a computer-processed drone-wash constructed by Chasse from his original recordings. It's like wandering in a dense creature-inhabited forest back East somewhere in the summertime, your ears overwhelmed by the natural sounds, you getting dizzy and almost passing out, the ribbitting and chirping and buzzing and tweeting taking over your mind. But it eventually dissolves back into a blissful background ambience. Real nice. And many of the sounds on here that sound insect-like or electronic Loren assures us are in fact frogs. It's nature's electronic music, the sound of a laptop computer overwhelmed by heat and long grasses and the green laughter. Just the thing for when I (Allan) get homesick for Pennsylvania.
Volume 2 is the debut recording from a group called Tomes, who are, as it turns out, basically Jewelled Antler flagship group Thuja (Rob Reger, Loren Chasse, Glenn Donaldson, absent Steven R. Smith), letting themselves get a little bit louder and noisier than they usually do in Thuja, harking back a bit to precursor band Mirza in fact. Probably the main reason this wasn't put out as a Thuja release is because Tomes' title and artwork are in fact the Jewelled Antler collective's knowing nod to a black metal aesthetic (which has fascinated Glenn particularly of late). But while intended as a tribute of sorts to black metal, the psychedelic drone music found here only holds subtle echoes of dark Nordic woodlands and burning churches. The twenty minutes of abstract heavy improv of The Dreadful Gift is darn good stuff regardless of the tangential conceptual framework. With noisy phantoms clanking chains, groaning drones, tell-tale heartbeats and and distorted freeform guitar feedback, this does achieve a dark n' dirgey but beautiful atmosphere. Too beautiful perhaps to leave the black metal hordes quaking in their corpsepaint, it still could be a Jewelled Antler Halloween soundtrack of sorts - I wonder why didn't they wait 'til the October Library installment for this? Definitely recommended.
Volume 3 comes from The Ivytree, a solo project of one of the Jewelled Antler's chief protagonists, Glenn Donaldson (who can also be found in Thuja, The Blithe Sons, Knit Separates, The Birdtree, etc). Donaldson has publicly announced an affinity for creating different monikers to accompany the innumerable variations of his musical productions, so The Ivytree may be just one in a number of upcoming 'tree' projects from Donaldson. Certainly this 18 minute ep has a lot in common with his previous 'tree disc, The Birdtree album, which garnered high praise from us. Centered around a plaintive, elliptical finger-picking guitar technique which renders every note full of melancholia, The Sun Is The Lamp weaves in and out of harmonium drones, field recordings of birds, and Donaldson's evocative vocals. As strong as the best Richard Youngs projects that might be the closest comparison we can make, this is another fantastic recording from Jewelled Antler!
Volume 4 is by Thuja's Steven R. Smith, who has taken up the Hala Strana moniker for his Eastern European-folk music inspired meditations. Karst continues down the path of his previous Jewelled Antler production Kohl, with a more ramshackle production for his dense acoustic arrangements for guitar and scratchy violin, which often hints at Eastern European timbres but as played by Nikki Sudden. In fact two of Smith's tracks are versions of traditional Polish and Romanian folk songs. Often beginning with a clutter of loose sounds, Smith coaxes his orchestrations into melancholic melodies and has smothered everything with an unusual patina of crunchy vinyl static, giving these 18 minutes a distinctly antiquated feel. A great entry in a great series...
Volume 5 is by Dead Raven Choir, the Texas-by-way-of-Poland based folk/improv one man project that the Jewelled Antler powers-that-be seem to be totally in love with of late - this was their 3rd DRC release of 2003! As with his previous Jewelled Antler cd-rs, DRC here conjures up some eccentric vocal theatrics and sparse, haunted acoustic guitar playing, like some sort of Eastern European Jandek. And his black metal obsession with wolves continues in the title here as well. Scarily beautiful, with atmospheric piano and unknown other sounds providing a hissing soundscape for his vocal, all three tracks here featuring macabre poetry by Paul Verlaine.
Volume 6 is something a bit different, yet familiar too to Jewelled Antler aficionados. It features the Blithe Sons (Glenn Donaldson and Loren Chasse, both also of Thuja and much else besides) joined by Eleanor Harwood on vocals. This trio's music is totally inspired by '70s art rock ensemble Slapp Happy, it's actually an intentional tribute of sorts. Eleanor is the heart of this, and we must say that for an untrained vocalist in an improvised setting, she's very impressive! Singing lyrics taken from a book of Kenneth Patchen poetry that was near to hand, "The Famous Boating Party", she totally inhabits the Dagmar Krause role, her vocals all wonderfully warbly and birdlike and lovely. She reminds us of Bjork at times too, no bad thing! Backing her up/leading her on, Glenn strums melodically on his 6 & 12 string guitars and adds comforting keyboard coloration, while Loren's "percussion & noises" both provide a steady beat and contribute the usual detailed, natural Jewelled Antler ambiance. It's very hazy and folky and fairytale like, a summer's afternoon encapsulated in a magical music box. Maybe not to everyone's taste (Slapp Happy certainly isn't either) but for some this will be a highlight in the Library series.
Volume 7 is also from outside the immediate ranks of Thuja and company. Although they've had a couple of cd-r releases popping up from tiny labels around the globe, this was our introduction to Uton. This anonymous, acoustic-noise-drone band hails from Finland, although they seem far more at home within the New Zealand community of Birchville Cat Motel, Anthony Milton, and Handful of Dust. Zwuiji is a bit more grating than most entries in the Jewelled Antler Library series, which typically opiate themselves with hazy improvised psychedelia and obtuse folk renderings. Rather Uton revels in mistreating their electric gear in order to fill up the audio spectrum with buzzing drones that swarm out of their amplifiers like angry wasps. Scratchy violins and atonally shifting wind instruments hover behind these gritty walls of vibrating feedback which comes across more as a misaligned engine block rattling all of those tones inside your head than as a typical trick with a couple of effects boxes. Certainly the fans of cd-r labels Celebrate Psi Phenomenon or PseudoArcana will like this.
Volume 8 hails from New Zealand's Claypipe. It seems Jewelled Antler have found some kindred souls Down Under, no not Gandalf and Frodo but in this case Antony Milton (who runs a cd-r label himself, Pseudoarcana) and Clayton Noone (C.J.A., Armpit) who together are known as Claypipe. Repetition and drone and field recording grit coexist with lovely acoustic guitar - it's real nice. With wistful, earnest vocals, some distorted and layered, this is neither indie-pop nor environmental ambient, but a hybrid that totally fits with Jewelled Antler 'groups' like the Blithe Sons and Child Readers, while possessing that special New Zealand magic we all adore. Seven tracks, 20 minutes, and you're left wishing it were longer.
Volume 9 is a disc from SF's Muons, not a Jewelled Antler band per se, but in those guys' orbit. There's five songs here, just under twenty minutes of fragile, psychedelic folk recorded live, where they really shine. Inspired by traditional British folk music, but made soooo minimal and spacey that they've been called the "Bernhard Gunter of space-folk", the Muons make forlorn lullabys for adults. For this performance, the Muons were just the duo of Greg Bianchini and Rickey Reneau. Greg, who has played with Jewelled Antler acts Franciscan Hobbies, Thuja and Blithe Sons, is an gifted instrument maker, and on this recording plays a home-built 14-string electric lute as well as sings. Rickey plays an electric dulcimer, probably also built by Greg. Greg's languid strumming and melancholic vocals seem to drift out of the smoke and mist of another era, and could be from a lost UK psych-folk comp, although this is so slow and sad and desolate that no hippy could have made it - they'd be too bummed out. We're also reminded of some Galaxie 500, or old NZ stuff like the Chills. Certainly this is a bit different than much else in the Library series - it's got to be the most 'composed' set of songs found on any of these 3" discs. But we think JA fans will like it, a lot. It has a 'flowers in the rain' vibe that's just lovely. And the loveliness extends to the paintings Greg did for the 3" cover. Very nice.
Volume 10 is from Thuja. With the series getting close to the end, it's about time for these guys to finally make an appearance (unless you count the almost-Thuja entry by black metal inspired alter ego Tomes). 20 or so minutes, 2 tracks. Again, the Thujans (Loren Chasse, Rob Reger, Steven R. Smith, and Glenn Donaldson) make some of the most beautiful and mysterious abstract instrumental improv we've heard. All we're told is that Fable was "recorded at night in the Garden of Kains, August 30, 2003". There could have been weird old hippies sitting in, or magical woodland beasts (of the past), or academic dronologists gone a bit strange on natural pharmacueticals...but probably it was just Thuja, and their music is conjuring these imaginary visitors not the other way around.
All those above reviews from our archives get us up to book/disc four, volumes 11, 12, and the previously unheard by us quasi-volume 13 in the Library series. We'll briefly describe 'em here (as if you needed us to...):
Volume 11 is from Fursaxa, and consists of one haunting track, "Harbinger of Spring". Nearly 18 minutes of wordless vocal drone, tumbling tribal drums, and other mysterious atmospheres. Good music for the next time you're trapped inside a Wicker Man.
Volume 12 comes from Finnish freaky forest folks Kemialliset Ystavat, who always seemed like Jewelled Antler soulmates. Five tracks here of their moody, magical improvs. Primitive, krauty jams we love.
And then the "bonus" Volume 13 is by Jewelled Antler act Ways Of God To Man (Christine Boepple, Kerry McLaughlin, Loren Chasse and Glenn Donaldson). It was originally released in a very limited edition on a NZ cd-r label in 2004. Despite featuring 2 former AQ employees, we never even got any... Three tracks ("Nothing", "Everything", and "Anything") of dark psychedelic throb and abstract, distorted melodic murk, over 28 minutes total. It sounds to us like Jewelled Antler's tribute to Ya Ho Wa 13! Even if you already have the other 12 volumes of the library on the original 3"s cd-rs, and getting them again on the more durable medium of actual compact disc isn't a compelling enough reason to buy this box, we'd imagine that getting to hear the Ways Of God To Man could sweeten the deal considerably.
All right, considering we KNOW we're gonna run out of these right away, this review is quite long enough! Just one more paragraph to go...
Need we say, pretty darn recommended. But do we have any complaints? Well, musically, not really, of course some volumes will appeal more that others but that's the deal, and you can't get 'em individually anymore anyway. Also, just in terms of physical production, any ambitious, unique project like this is bound to have a few flaws. Will the metallic foil debossing of the Jewelled Antler logo on the box top IS quite handsome, the box itself is a bit of a disappointment. It just a bit flimsier than we were expecting ("heavy chip board stock" it's not), apparently due to the difficulty of debossing on heavier cardboard. Also it's bigger than it needs to be, leaving empty space inside for the cds and cards to rattle around. Had each one been stuffed (in true Jewelled Antler style) with twigs and moss and suchlike, that would have solved the problem, unfortunately that probably proved to be impractical, but you could do it yourself once you get this! There's also just a couple of proofing errors we noticed, nothing serious (Hala Strana got left off the back of the box, alas) but it's still too bad. However, the overall presentation is still pretty nice and of course it's the music that matters. So, that said, we can only reiterate: pretty darn recommended!
Oh man, how this takes us back. Canadian label D-Trash is definitely the new DHR, spawning a whole new scene of breakcore bruisers and digital hardcore crushers. Admittedly they owe a huge debt to Alec Empire, Atari Teenage Riot and that breakcore/metal hybrid sound those folks practically created. So here it is, years after the demise of ATR, Empire has moved on, DHR seems to have disappered, so what better time to remind folks how amazing that shit sounded then, and brutal and heavy and badass it still sounds today.
So here's the whole D-Trash roster, each tackling a classic Atari Teenage Riot track, all our favorites for sure, "Start The Riot", "Into The Death", "Delete Yourself", "The Future Of War"� Most of the bands here do it pretty straight, if anything just making the guitars crunchier and heavier, the beats more distorted and blown out, but still the tracks are classic, and sound enough like the originals that from note one, we're already banging our heads wildly.
A few folks mix it up, Untitus (whose reissued full length is listed elsewhere on this list) slows things down, unfurling a thick buzzing backdrop, letting the drums lurch in a grinding anti-funk, the vocals all sultry and slurred. Schizoid (who also has a full length reissue on this list) turns his ATR track into some howling ultradistorted blast of blackened breakcore, the drums a chaotic blur, the vocals a hateful howl, so intense and furious, so much so that it almost makes the original sound tame. Other highlights include the robotic electro of Evestus, the old school (digital) hardcore punk rock of DHC Meinhof, the skittery metallized jungle of CTRLer, the playful video game gabber of 64Revolt� It's all pretty amazing, we of course lean toward the heavier more brutal blasts of digital hardcore, but goddamn, this all still sounds so great. We've been going pretty nuts, immersing ourselves in all this amazing D-Trash stuff, it's like a nonstop breakcore dance party around here and we STILL can't get enough.
Start the riot! Delete Yourself!
Numero group return with yet another amazing reissue, gorgeously packaged, meticulously researched, It's All Pop is the second collection of power pop from the label, the first being the genius Yellow Pills, a collection of essential groups, lost gems, and classic tracks. This one is a bit more specific, and insanely obscure, as seems to be Numero's way, focusing this time on the short lived and almost completely unknown power pop label Titan, headquartered in Kansas City, existing only briefly from 1978-1981, and having only released a handful of records. But you know what they say about quality versus quantity.
Anyway, the groups on Titan's roster are who's who of unknowns, a few maybe recognizable to only the most obsessive power pop fanatics: Boys, Secrets* (yep, the asterisk is part of their name), Gems, Scott McCarl, Bobby Sky, Millionaire At Midnight, Gary Charlson, Arlis!, JP McLain, and this is normally where we'd say "and loads more", but there really isn't any more. That's it, the whole roster, a handful of tracks from each, and if you love that Yellow Pills comp, then needless to say, this will probably hit the spot too. Obvious references are the Shoes, the Rasberries, Badfinger, E.L.O., Big Star, Elvis Costello, Joe Jackson, the Nazz, you know what we're talking about. Simple and stripped down, jangly guitars, vocal harmonies, and hooks galore. The sound varies a bit, some of the tracks are a bit glammy, some are total straight Beatles-esque pop, a few have a more classic vibe, others are a bit more hard rocking, but however the sound is twisted or tweaked, the heart and core of these songs is super catchy, super rocking ultra catchy total old school power pop bliss.
Killer packaging of course, deluxe slip cover, two digipaks, a massive book, with extensive liner notes, loads of rare flyers and photos, and a note from label co-founder Mark Prellberg.
Okay, it's time to come clean. After fighting it for years. And beginning every techno review with a disclaimer like "we don't really like techno all that much", it's time to just admit it, we love techno. We do. well, we must, this is the SECOND comp called I Love Techno that we've raved about on the list. And we've been listening to it nonstop since it first came in. Sure we love Pop Ambient, and heroin house, and all the more minimal weirdo shades of techno, but the stuff on this comp falls closer to the French stuff we also love, Daft Punk, Justice, with wild buzzing synths, pounding big beats, crazy melodies, and this comp is overflowing with total dancefloor destroyers. The first I Love Techno comp, was a bit more on the minimal side of things, playing into a sound we already loved, but this 2008 collection is not minimal at all. It's maximal. Big time. Snarling, swirling, buzzing, pounding, wild, sweaty, strobe lit, electro flecked, synth heavy techno, and if we actually were inclined to dance, this comp would keep us moving FOREVER.
Opening with a brief burst of old school electro, the sound quickly shifts to a killer mashup, pounding beats and buzzy spacey synths, and cold clinical spoken female vocals, IN GERMAN. Cold wave via Daft Punk. Or something. And after that's it's on, and it don't stop. Synthesizers buzz and howl, squeal and shriek, beats shuffle, skitter, pulse, throb and pound, this shit is wild and weird and freaked out and actually sort of heavy in its own way.
Two tracks right in the middle, one by Bingo Players, the other by Les Petits Pilous, are completely nuts, jagged chunks of synth buzz, shooting out staccato style, locked in with pounding beats, like the frenzied climax of the ultimate techno jam, stretched out into whole songs. The record closes with the ultimate techno one-two punch. Boys Noize, who assembled this comp, offer up "My Head", which begins a hiccupping chopped up stutter, laced with squiggly synths, and it just gets more sharp and caustic and jagged and blown out and groovy and funky and far out as fuck. Which segues perfectly into Errorsmith's "In A Sweat", which starts out all fuzzy and hiss drenched, muted beats all strangled and stunted, before the beat drops, a super distorted fuzzy groove, that just gets weirder and weirder, the various synths slip from super low end buzz, to super sharp high end skree, constantly shifting tone and timbre, while the beat manages to stutter and skip all over the place, the whole thing culminating in a high end hiss storm.
So yeah, I suppose we do love techno. That is, as long as techno always sounds this funky and freaked out and fucked up and kick ass. Way recommended. Even for technophobes, as this has definitely won over a few of those around here.
Dronevolk is a new documentary focused on the burgeoning underground dronefolk scene in Belgium, made up of a handful of bands, aQ customers will no doubt be well familiar with: Kiss The Anus Of A Black Cat, Bear Bones Lay Low, Silvester Anfang and Ignatz. By now, most faithful readers of the aQ list own at least one record by some or all of those groups, but this disc takes advantage of the format, not only offering up more of the music we love so much, but glimpses into the creative process, allowing the viewer to see how and where the music was recorded, to see the groups perform live, on big stages, in little clubs, in bedrooms and practice spaces, and allows the groups themselves to discuss their music and influences.
Kiss The Anus start things off, recording track by track, tambourine, guitar, vocals, harmonium, watching the song slowly take form. From a bedroom and a computer, the disembodied parts coalesce becoming something more magical and mysterious, eventually taking form as a song, being performed by a full band on stage. Plenty of interview footage, live performance, home movies, backstage, on tour, and like us, you probably wondered where the heck he came up with that name, well now's your chance to find out.
Up next is Bear Bones Lay Low, a super young guy, moved from Venezuela to Belgium, he now also plays in Silvester Anfang, but for Bear Bones it's serious floorcore, hunched over a bank of effects and keyboard, swaying back and forth, hair in face, black pants and a green Izod (!), the sound a thick coruscating drone, haunting vocals drifting in and out, cool to see those sounds coming from such an unassuming figure, the transformative power of music. Other footage of him kneeling with a guitar, unfurling wavery fractured folk, shots of practice space sessions, recording and rehearsing, some super intense live performance, or at as intense as one mop topped dude kneeling on the floor can be, but the music is dark and drone-y and intense!
Then along comes Silvester Anfang revealed to be much more of a proper rock band, and a bunch of goofy dudes judging from their interview, especially considering their provocative cover art and mysteriously heavy sounds. Much of the interview concerns metal, specifically how there is NO metal in Silvester Anfang, and how just because they LIKE metal, does not mean that they play metal. Also discussion of the artwork, and how it gives people the wrong impression, and how FUN is a big part of what they do, no matter how dark and intense the music is. Lots of pre-show ritual, setting up, tuning up, eventually giving way to full on dronejam, with nearly the whole band hunched over on the floor, strange, but sort of ritualistic and cool looking. Also some improv street corner jams, with kids and homeless folks, all super percussive and chaotic and exuberant
Last up is Ignatz, another pretty unassuming dude, his segment opening with a gorgeous live performance, on a stage in the woods, afternoon sunlight filtering through the trees, the vocals a ghostly mumble, the guitar ragged and abstract. Exactly how you might imagine it would be. Some very low key interview footage, and a glimpse of the home, the studio, where this mysterious music takes shape, which then helps you realize that these places are not so different than where we live, and play, and that much of the mystery comes from the person, and their connection to whatever spirit compels them to make these sounds.
Beautifully packaged in a slimline dvd case, full color covers, the opening and closing credits feature some amazing black and white animation, and for those of you who still aren't sure you need one of these, it also includes bonus unreleased MP3's from all four groups!
All region. NTSC.
The first thing you notice about this ESP reissue is the amazing cover photo, featuring the artist, with a sort of Hitler moustache, sunglasses and sideburns, in a hospital bed after hitting a tree in his car. The poor soul in the bed is Karel Velebny, one of the most prominent composers in Czech, who when invited to record for ESP was asked by label head Bernard Stollmann to "Take it as far out as you can". So far so good.
And while the record itself isn't really THAT far out, it is a pretty fantastic chunk of flute flecked free jazz, light on the skronk, heavy on bop and mood and texture. The opener, "The Uhu Sleeps Only During The Day" starts out all hushed and atmospheric, mostly vibes and fluttery flute, rubbery bass, lots of space, the instruments drifting in space, a wild flute freakout ushers in the band, and away we go, the drums shuffle and skitter, the flute ships wildly over the top, the bass and piano all tangled up, the vibes anchoring the whole track. The second track "Joachim Is Our Friend" is another cool groove, lots of vibes, Velebny handles both vibes and sax (as well as occasional clarinet), a whole lot more sax this time around, some cool stretches of just drums and vibes, with a sort of far out exotica feel, and a super tripped out bass solo.
"Beetles On The Head" begins with some cool saxophone harmonies, before slipping once again into some serious post Bird bop, the sound is wildly melodic, dense and complex, with a serious groove. In "Waldi On The Castle Steps", Velebny and his crew channel the spirit of Ornette Coleman, banging out a super dynamic, and ultra rhythmic workout, culminating in a bad ass drum solo. And finally, the record closer, "Andulko Safarova" finishes off with a somber elegiac drift, all long tones and notes, lots of moaning low end, strange harmonics, until the instruments drop out, leaving a cacophony of creaks and croaks, which gives way to what sounds like detuned guitar, until the flute begins a flight of fancy over deep low droning tones, creating woozy harmonies beneath a brief haunting spoken outro. Very strange for sure, and pretty far out after all.
A teaser EP of 5 more obscure covers to hold us over before their Sub Pop debut arrives sometime next year. The same seventies country folk-rock vibe prevails here as it did on the full length covers records, Thing of The Past. The one exception being the opening track "See You Tonight", by The Wizzards, which reminds us of Guided By Voices channeling seventies power popsters The Only Ones. Songs by Gordon Bok, Nils Lofgren's Grin, Titus Turner and Vernon Claude and Jerry Organ round up the collection. Sweet!
The return of The Wandering Midget!! Sounds like the title of some lost Tolkien novel, as it well should. The Wandering Midget are not in fact a 'he', but rather a 'they', and THEY are a group of true doomlords from Finland, who rule the riff and have an amazing vocalist who deftly straddles the line between classic doom wail, and over the top insanity.
We reviewed the Midget's I Am The Gate ep a while back (we still have a few copies left), and ever since had been jonesing for more more more. And now we have it. The Serpent Coven. Nearly an hour of modern doom, troo doom, total Sabbath / Pentagram worship in the best possible way. Massive riffage, pounding drums, incredible grooves, some serious hooks. A bit like Electric Wizard, but not as sludge-y, much more classic sounding. And the vocals, holy shit, a bit of an Ozzy wail, but WAY more campy and over the top, definitely a make or break for most folks, but if you're anything like us, and you love Messiah from Candlemass, Scott Reagers of Saint Vitus, and other high end howlers, then Samual Wormlus (good name!) will fit pretty comfortably in your doom vocal pantheon.
The thing about doom, is it's pretty easy to make, like drone music, simple minor key riffs, tuned way down, lugubrious tempos, and blammo! Wrap that in enough buzz and satanic imagery, and you're doom! But to make doom magical and mysterious is a whole 'nother thing. That requires some sort of alchemy, that is indeed rare, and that sort of power is possessed by a very few, but listening to The Serpent Coven, there is no doubt in our minds that The Wandering Midget is made up of such otherworldly alchemists.
The Midget slip from churning Sabbathy groove, to super slowed down ultra doom, to spaced out doomic drift, all within the space of a single looooooong track, even mixing in some seriously unlikely elements (the strange prog / folk clean guitar into tangled psychedelic space rock middle section of "Bring Forth The Accused" being the perfect example), to create their own unique and seriously idiosyncratic take on a WAY overplayed genre.
ALL HAIL THE WANDERING MIDGET, BOW BEFORE THESE MIGHTY DOOMLORDS FROM THE NORTH, AND DIG THEIR EPIC DOOOOOOOM!
Wow! Progressive Rock from Bolivia? Who knew?
Wara's first album from 1972 (the liner notes say they have recorded 16 albums as of 2004, but this is the first we have heard of them) is a strange hybrid of South American psych with classical symphonic elements, Andean native musical structures, soaring harmonies and boogie rhythms.
Incorporating a classical string section with flute and oboe alongside the shredding fuzz guitar, simmering organ and drum breaks, this is unlike any South American psych we've heard in awhile. While Wara is more of a psych band than a prog outfit, they lean towards '70s proto metal vocal theatrics and Beethoven rather than the Beatles, using long songs with varied passages of loud and soft dynamics. Killer!
Not sure how many folks remember lowercase, but they were definitely one of our favorite SF bands back in the nineties, a brooding dark rhythmic post rock with a total AmRep noise rock edge (they put out a couple records on AmRep appropriately enough). Lke most bands do, the duo (sometimes trio) called it a day, and the two lowercasers went their own way. Drummer Brian Gurgis went on to play in local noisepop combo Track Star, indie reggae outfit Still Flyin' and recording solo as Si, Claro, while Wasif's career trajectory took a much stranger tack, first a stint with Lou Barlow in the Folk Implosion, a brief stop in a group called Alaska! with Russ Pollard from Sebadoh / Folk Implosion, and even a pretty sizable part in the film Laurel Canyon (where he sported a fake British accent!). After touring as a second guitarist for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Wasif recorded a solo record released on Kill Rock Stars, finally forming the group Two Part Beast (with Bobb Bruno from the Polar Goldie Cats) which brings us to Strange Hexes, which is quickly becoming one of our most listened to records recently. Not noisy, or all that aggressive, instead, the sound of Strange Hexes is dark and brooding, falling somewhere between Woven Hand, Wasif's old band lowercase (or any nineties slowcore post rock outfit, Codeine, Seam...) and Jeff Buckley. Sounds strange, but it's really not, it's quite lovely, a dark twangy indie rock, Wasif's vocals rich and emotive, soaring and slithering over clever arrangements and lush instrumentation.
Album opener "Wanderlusting" is fantastic, epic and majestic, with a killer hook, an awesome main riff, a sound heavier than almost anything else on the disc, even offering up some serious Sabbath worship part way through, and Wasif's vocals suit the sound perfectly, rough and raw, but still somehow soft and smooth. The follow up "Unveiling" is another dark slow rocker, with a killer hook that sounds like it was transplanted straight out of some classic rock jam, but spread out into something much folkier and driftier, always with a barely restrained bombast, sounding like under different circumstances, that these songs could explode into full on Muse-like stadium rock, but the fact that they never do, adds all sorts of tension and drama to the sound. The rest of the record is just as great, each song an expansive mini epic, with folky flourishes, subtle twang, brooding moodiness, dark heavy riffing, lots of hooks and heartfelt emotional vocals.
It's tough to explain what it is exactly about this record that has us so entranced, other than the usual stuff that makes a rock record rule, the songs are awesome, the arrangements are great, the playing is top notch, and Wasif's vocals seal the deal, so distinctive, his voice having definitely developed into something really really special.
We saw Watain in the last issue of Oaken Throne 'zine complaining about how this, their first cd, was put out in such a limited edition that no-one could get it anymore except on eBay, and how sucky that was so they were gonna make sure that their new album (Casus Luciferi, reviewed on AQ list #203) wouldn't be at all limited. Well guess what? We actually DO have Rabid Death's Curse in stock, but haven't been able to get more Casus Luciferis for some time now. Huh, can't make sense of it. But we'd recommend you get this now, if you want one, 'cause they'll probably be gone again soon too! And you should want one if you're a true black metal fiend, Watain being one of the best bands (along with, for instance, Funeral Mist and Leviathan) truly dedicated to keeping the flickering flame of black metal burning black. Utterly cult and underground yet undeniably skilled and intelligent. And religiously Satanic.
So how does Rabid Death's Curse compare to the masterful Casus Luciferi? Watain's debut album is pretty great, and definitely an indication of even greater greatness to come. It's feral, fast, frenzied and ferocious. FFFF! Not the sound of a band you'd want to mess with. Look at 'em wrong and you can bet they'd pound the love of God out of you, literally.
We've got ourselves a new obsession! We knew very little about Wavves before we put this disc in but oh my god once we did we became so instantly addicted. This is some TOTALLY BLOWN OUT beach party crusty pop that's as bombastic as it is so totally catchy. We think they're from San Diego and that makes perfect sense, cause these songs just make you want to skate and hang out by the ocean getting baked by the sun and throwing caution to the wind. Imagine No Age and Thee Oh Sees collaborating together or what it might sound like to play the Beach Boys and JFA at the same time. This is some seriously gritty grimey pop that makes you glad you still have that shitty car stereo, as this was meant to be blasted in the most lo-fi blown out way possible, while driving around getting lost in these sun soaked washed out anthems. Filled with such contagious youthful exuberance it's making us feel like we're 19 again, in the best possible way.
There is such a bold urgency to this record, it grabs your attention and never lets go and we never want it to. As soon as it's over we pretty much only want to listen to it over and over again. We're reminded a bit of Holy Shit, Abe Vigoda, and the great and often overlooked 90's noise-pop outfit Further. But what makes Wavves so addictive is that they aren't a one trick pony, the few atmospheric electronic interludes and slower spacey tracks are just as potent as their wide eyed and full throttle jams. We've got a feeling there is a great future ahead for Wavves and what a totally awesome way for it to start. So rad!!!
Sly Stone makes the cover (did he really have to wait 'til issue 32?), and inside there's the usual profusely and colorfully photo-illustrated, deep-digging stuff about the likes of Jean Grae, Egyptian Lover and Arabian Prince, Jimmy Cliff, Large Professor, Houston rappers HSID, and even South Korean B-boys! Among other things. In case you didn't know already, or figure it out from that run-down, Wax Poetics is THE magazine of cool hiphop/soul/funk/reggae/jazz hipness old and new, for vinyl fetishists and general groove-hounds, and as usual this issue is a must-read if you're at all into that stuff, and why the heck wouldn't you be?!
The first thing we thought when we threw this one, was that these guys remind us quite a bit of the Rock-A-Teens, which is never a bad thing. They have the same sort of Southern gothic swagger, thick reverbed guitars, yowled throaty vocals, a little Southern rock, a little rockabilly, but jammed into more of a noise rock sound. The record opens with a serious blast of jagged distorted garage stomp, with plenty of stops and start, some noodly leads, but all wrapped around a hook that won't quit, and some killer guitar harmonies. But right after that the band slows it down to near-ballad territory, all lilting strums and chiming bells, until the track fractures into a weird rollicking buzz drenched sort-of-jig, that explodes into a rollicking rocker, with deep crooned vocals and sharp crunchy guitar chug and a total pogo rhythm and more leads squiggling all over the place.
The vocalist has some Nick Cave going on for sure, which perfectly suits the bands sharp noisy downer rock, like a super charged Dirty Three, or even a less Irish Pogues, or maybe a less fucked up Lubricated Goat, and of course the aforementioned Rock-A-Teens. We also hear some Paw, but odds are that one's too obscure and unlikely for most folks, which is probably for the best. But stir in some serious Southern rock tendencies, a little punk rock, polish it up a bit and you have the Weeks. Supposedly the average age of the Weeks is 18, which is pretty nuts considering that these guys sound like way more like old bearded dudes from the South sporting big old skull rings, and wearing pointy toed boots and rumpled old seersucker suits...
Some records are totally unanimous AQ favorites and then there are those times that we are split pretty divisively on something. The latest from Kanye West has both some haters and some big time lovers here at the store. Those who love it (Irwin, especially!) can't get enough of its raw emotion (these are songs recorded after the death of his mother and the breakup of his engagement) and totally stripped down 808 beats that almost sound like they could be at home on a Kraftwerk or Suicide record if it was produced by Timbaland. This time out Kanye isn't rapping as much as he is singing, but knowing he doesn't posses the world's best singing voice he uses a whole lot of auto-tuning on his vocals. That's where those not as in love with the record tend to get turned off as he does use them on almost every track, a la T-Pain, but those who love the record feel that those vocals fit so perfectly in the flashing heart on sleeve feel of the record. Anyone who has recently experienced heartbreak will probably have a much easier time fully surrendering to these songs. It's almost like some kind of electro-emo-hip-hop carried out with such fiery passion and it almost sounds like it was all recorded in his bedroom on an 808 infused with the emotions and dire after-effects of a broken heart. So thumping, electric and pulsating. The record does sound like a heart pulsating with such rapid motion throughout. Give this record a chance, even if you have a hard time with Kanye's huge ego, because under all the bluster and bravado he really is pretty talented!
We had never heard of this NY band before but HOLY SHIT. A serious new contender for sure in the ever expanding world of crushing slow motion ultra doom-dirge-dronemusick. Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, SUNNO))), Skullflower, Khanate, Wolf Eyes, Bunkur, etc. Any of those names get your blood boiling, then WKW just might be your favorite new band.
Flydust is WKW's latest offering, two tracks, both taking up a whole side, each a harrowing black expanse of crumbling, buzzing, churning heaviness. A sprawling, bottomless sea of throbbing, pulsing downtuned lowend buzz, roiling distorted drones, all murky and muddy and smeared into constantly shifting layers and textures, abrasive and chaotic, but washed out into a single heaving organic black expanse. Over the top, a weirdly motorik drumbeat, locked into a neverending rhythm, looped and hypnotic, and over that, super creepy vocals, equal parts death metal gurgle, and tortured anguished howl. The sound is mostly monochromatic, but the sounds shift and the textures transform, moments of melody surface here and there amidst the long stretches of near static blur and buzz, the vocals almost like another instrument, another black layer, all tangled up into an abject, blackened and brutal otherworldly kraut-doom. Harrowing, mesmerizing, buzzing, grinding and blown out, fucked up and abrasive, but simultaneously hypnotic and in its own brutal and punishing way, strangely beautiful.
VINYL ONLY. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Each one has a hand drawn inner sleeve, customized (i.e. scribbled on) by the band, every one unique.
We had never heard of this NY band before but HOLY SHIT. A serious new contender for sure in the ever expanding world of crushing slow motion ultra doom-dirge-dronemusick. Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, SUNNO))), Skullflower, Khanate, Wolf Eyes, Bunkur, etc. Any of those names get your blood boiling, then WKW just might be your favorite new band.
This WKW's self titled debut, and is in some ways even heavier and more blown out than Flydust (reviewed elsewhere on this list). The root sound is similar, a heaving morass of crumbling superdistorted guitars, but where as Flydust is murky and muddy and washed out, the sound here is prickly and cacophonous, abrasive and sort of sharp. The sound is also more propulsive, more distinct riffs, dripping with in-the-red distortion and twisted FX. The opening track is one single ascending riff, looped over and over and over and over, pounding its way through a dense cloud of impossibly thick buzz, the drums a buried plod, the vocals, barely audible through the churning mass of unfurling riffs and a constantly expanding wall of sound. The strange thing is, there is a definite groove lurking underneath, loping and lurching, but groovy nonetheless. Think Godflesh or Pitchshifter mixed with Ramleh and Wolf Eyes, but super charged and revved up, and dipped in a psychedelic concoction of tripped out prismatic psychrock filigree and blown out amp destroying drone drenched doom.
But the second track is a whole different beast altogether, a stretched out slowed down distorted riff, unfurled in slow motion, very reminiscent of Earth 2, but peppered with simple spare drumming, only barely, until about halfway through when the sound is swallowed up but a wall of distorted sound much more like the opening track, and suddenly the sound is transformed into a blown out acid-doused blast of crumbling blacknoise.
The last two tracks offer up more of the same, varying degrees of forward momentum, of spaced out ur-drone, of in-the-red effects, pounding abstract percussion, all draped over near static whitenoise buzz, weird krauty grooves, woozy metallic crawls, pulsing metallic ambience, and heavy heavy hypnotic dirgedoomdronemusick.
The lp is limited to 490 copies, pressed on purple vinyl, the cd is limited to 1000 copies.
Sometimes we just have to pinch ourselves to make sure we're not dreaming, and that Japan's EM Records and all the crazy stuff they somehow find and reissue is actually real! Seriously, it's hard to believe, EM dig up such obscure things that are just so AQ-perfect, so darn weird. We have whole sub-genres of stuff in stock here at the store all because of EM - steel pan funk, psychedelic surf soundtracks, singing saw music! And quite a few one-off items that pretty much represent new genres in and off themselves. Like this one, which EM almost too tamely describes as "Obscure evil psycho machine-funk from '80s Washington D.C. Psychedelic madness!".
From the moment Wicked Witch showed up in the mail, we were ensorcelled. Heck, this pretty much had us with the cover, featuring a Vice magazine Dos and/or Don'ts worthy photo of a mysterious, ridiculously bad ass lookin' African American fellow wearing shiny black leather and spikes, sporting a knife in a scabbard attached to one of his boots. He's got his hands on his hips, his eyeballs are colored in red, and we sure wouldn't want to mess with his rad dudeness. But even that strange, sinister image couldn't have prepared us for what this actually sounds like... Which is, to us, ARIEL PINK PLAYING FUNK!! It's that damaged, that lysergic, a one-man outsider take on the druggiest moments from early '70s Miles Davis and especially Funkadelic, like "Wars Of Armageddon" off of Maggot Brain ferinstance.
The first track of this anthology, "Fancy Dancer", a 7" single from 1985, drops the listener right in at the deep end, a dense miasmic phantasmagoria of percolating off-kilter grooves, funky vampings, and creepy, low-end synth buzzings and growlings, further made freakier towards the end of its 5 1/2 minutes with a dose of wild psychedelic electric guitar soloing. Damn. Don't even know if funk is the right word for this. How about "glunk"? 'Cause it's got such a melty, gooey viscosity to it. The credits tell us this appeared on a 7" single from 1985, with all instruments and vocals by Richard Simms (he's the cover star, he's Wicked Witch, and he's apparently quite a character!). Next, track two, "Erratic Behaviour", is maybe even more murky and chaotic, a mixture of echoing, babbling voices and tick-tocking drum machine, set loose amidst swirling electronics. It comes from another 7" single, circa '83, as does the similar track three, "X Rated", which adds some "sensual" guest female sex-freak vocal exhibitionism over the lashing beats, bass throbs, and general dementia. But it's at least as spooky as it is sexy...
Then, track four, "Vera's Back", suddenly shifts things into another realm, delving into Wicked Witch pre-history. Written and produced by Simms, this track was originally released in on a 12" in 1978 by a band he was in (on bass and vocals) called Paradiagm [sic]. It's twelve minute workout of shredding jazzfunk fusion, with over the top chops, a la Return To Forever, with violin and echoing vocals and proggy changes galore. It's a lot "cleaner", less distorted and drugged out than Wicked Witch's later bizarre cauldron bubblings, but still pretty crazy, some of it like Goblin on speed!
The next three tracks bring us back to the more unusual funk (or glunk?) stylings of Rick Simms solo in the '80s, with two takes (one instrumental, one vocal, though both have vocals, the latter just more n' nuttier of 'em) of a track called "Electric War", from a 1984 Wicked Witch 12", and then, for a finale, the disc comes full circle with a previously unreleased, extreme remix of "Fancy Dancer" done in '86. Again, weird, dense, DIY outsider grooviness. Yep, CHAOS: 1978-86 is aptly titled. And we're still astonished, dunno how EM does it. Who digs deeper? You couldn't make this stuff up, we know, but we're still pinching ourselves. Maybe Wax Poetics will do a feature on Wicked Witch one of these days... we can only imagine what became of Simms, perhaps institutionalized in some asylum for the Funkily Insane. In the meantime, you can pour over the photos included herein.
FYI, the above review describes the programming of the cd version, EM's lp of this has a slightly different running order and in fact some different tracks! The vinyl edition omits the "Fancy Dancer" remix and the "Electric War" vocal version. But, its "Erratic Behaviour" and "X Rated" are both remixes different from what's on the cd. And, there's a whole 'nother previously unreleased cut on the lp, "Under Your Spell", eight and half minutes long, from 1986! So we can't tell you which format to choose. Either one, or both, are highly recommended!
At first glance, it's easy to assume this is part of Touch's recent series of seven inches, and on first listen, there's nothing to dissuade us, but in fact, this is the latest release from Autofact, who does indeed have a deal with Touch to do their vinyl, but this is not a Touch record, although as we mentioned it might as well be, and will no doubt appeal to the same folks.
Processed field recordings, recorded using hydrophones (underwater mics). The A side is a swirl of textured gurgles, almost a straight field recording of a pastoral creekside (birds, splashes, wind) but as the track progresses the sounds become more textural, almost rhythmic at times, sounding much more like Tim Hecker or Oval.
The flipside features a collage of underwater recordings from rivers in Norway, Iceland, England and Germany, deep rumbles, soft creaks, occasional insects, the sound of a stream, water lapping on the shore, the sound shifting to more of a warm whirring very dreamy and abstract, slipping back and forth, above water, below water, crystalline and spacious, murky and muddy and indistinct, woozy and swoony and quite pleasing.
Beautiful Jon Wozencroft style full color photo cover, and limited to only 500 copies.
Couldn't be a more perfect name for this bay area duo who craft such breezy cosmic delights. Samuel Grawe who also plays in Hatchback and Daniel Judd whose record as Sorcerer last year was one of our favorite electronic releases of '07 have created the perfect sounds for a beachside disco party at sunset. Released on a new label run by Prins Thomas, they inject such a refreshing and easy approach to creating cosmic flowing sounds that really do bring images of waves, sand and shimmering coastlines to mind.
There are a couple tracks with vocals that kind of make us think of the Sea & Cake collaborating with Lindstrom, but they are at their best when they let their warm orbiting sounds find that perfect wave to ride into infinity. While most of the current crop of neo-disco cosmic peddlers tend to project a more cold and late-night vibe we think much more about how rad it would be to get to hear Windsurf play in the afternoon as we sprawl out on the warm sand and let their mellow grooves carry us off in daydreams with such delight.
