Maleficia is the work of Bay Area noise artist Andy Way (French Radio, NF Orchest) and avant-vocalist Ilysea Simpson. Their debut cd-r begins with an evocative wordless vocalization from Simpson conjuring the likes of Christina Carter and Jarboe in decontextualizing Southern hymns away from their spiritual intent and toward the raw emotional expression of just voice. After about five or six minutes of a capella delivery, Simpson's duet with Way begins as he gradually unleashes a torrent of tactile noise, all bathed in reverb, which somewhat mutes the sharpness of the distortion, static, and turbulant noise. As her voice becomes more processed and takes on more shrill characterists alongside Way's caustic noise, Maleficia begin to resemble the volatile noise and voice couplings of Fe-Mail to remarkable results. Stitched paper artwork completes this limited edition production of which we only have a handful.
Here's another lost gem from Minimal Wave, the label that has been digging deep, very deep into the realms of post-punk and new wave to uncover many a release that might have been lost. For those who have procured plenty of terminal obscurities from such blogspots as Mutant Sounds, No Longer Forgotten Music, or Systems of Romance, some of the reissues on Minimal Wave may be familiar. But these are no grey area reissues. Minimal Wave has assured us that they have taken great care to procure the rights for each of these recordings!
Martin Dupont was a French new wave band with a brief run in the mid '80s, and according to Minimal Wave, the band had acquired something of a cult status in their homeland for their peculiar take on synth-pop. Amidst the catchy melodies and mechanoid drum machines, Martin Dupont alternated between the wailing, barking vocals of Alain Seghir and the ethereal voices of Catherine Loy and Brigitte Balain. Kraftwerk and Joy Division are the references that the band claimed as their own; but their sound resembles the crypto-weirdness of Fad Gadget complete with splatters of trumpet, disjointed left-field rhythms, and purposefully over the top theatrics care of Seghir.
Amigos De La Guitarra. Friends of the guitar. Funny. Both of these guys are most definitely friends of the guitar, although neither really plays the guitar the way nature intended. Well, maybe once in a while they do. Two Mikes. One called Mare, one called Gallagher. One also known to us as Destructo Swarmbots. The other, known around these parts as MGR, or sometimes, the guy from Isis. Both MGR and Destructo Swarmbots are long time faves around these parts, both creating epic expansive sprawling guitarscapes, occasionally heavy and intense, other times shimmery and ethereal, and while we never expected to find the two playing together, now that we're listening to it, it sort of seems like a pretty fantastic idea.
One 42 minute track, that begins all moody and melodic, finger picked guitars, melodies, harmonies, lilting and almost folky, a little post rocky, moody and minor key, gradually growing more and more intense, some of the guitars billowing out into clouds of rumble and blur, while the rest keep the main melodies going. Before it gets to noisy, the drones recede, once again leaving the guitars to drift delicately, weaving subtle sonic shapes, until once again, some of the guitars begin to growl and buzz, the chords and melodies growing more jagged and abrasive, the sound a roiling soft swirl, which is when things get really interesting and suddenly some of the guitars are chopped up and sent stuttering, creating a droned out rhythmic skitter, while the other guitar soars and wails in the background. All around, sheets of feedback fold in on themselves, shot though with jagged shards of corrosive high end crunch, before finally the chaos begins to dissipate, leaving just a tangle of guitar melodies, slowly unfurling, winding down through gauzy fields of crackle and muted buzz, until just shadowy echoes of the guitars remain, and then nothing at all.
In short: A gorgeous disc of trancey blissed out ambient heaviness, from two friends of the guitar...
Finally, the first proper full length from Ukrainian one man black metal horde Moloch. As we mentioned in our review of the split tape from a while back (the only thing we'd been able to get in sufficient numbers to list), we have been totally obsessed with Moloch, doing whatever we could to get a hold of everything and anything he's recorded. Which is quite a feat as he's released about 40 records, many of them box sets, and making it even more of a feat is the fact that most were limited to between 10 and 40 copies. Argghhh. Andee has even been emailing with Moloch about possibly releasing something on tUMULt, all in the interest of making these gorgeously grim sounds available to more than a handful of connected diehards.
So in steps the fine folks at BlackMetal.Com, who have released Depression Of Surtr, a best of compilation, gathering up various tracks from a handful or releases, as well as a bunch of unreleased tracks (although since barely anyone has heard most of this stuff, they're essentially ALL unreleased). So what has got us all in a tizzy about this Moloch character? Hard to explain, but with most black metal, it's as much about vibe as it is sound, and these tracks, besides sounding amazing, are so weirdly haunting and mysterious, the guitars so saturated and blown out, the drums buried in the mix, more of a pulse than a beat, and the vocals, somewhere between Weakling and Silencer, howled and wailed and utterly anguished. So tortured and over the top, again simultaneously adding to the vibe and mood as well as the sound. But besides the vibe, which is about as harrowing and haunting and GRIM as can be, the sound is fucking epic, Burzum by way of Abruptum, mostly midtempo, even the blasts are only slightly faster, the guitars are super distorted and droney, the sort of trance-y buzz that has us immediately entranced.
There are also some long stretches of black ambience, of shimmery drift and rumbling dronemusic, which makes sense, as Moloch has also released 10 or 15 entire discs full of ambient music, but here they nicely balance the blown out grimnity of the more buzzy blown out tracks. There's even a couple covers at the end, one a Burzum cover, all pianos and synths, lilting and minor key, the other a Darkthrone cover, which is totally bizarre, swooning synths over an awesomely cheesy drum machine (which sounds remarkably similar to the one built into the boom box in the back room). Not sure what to even make of it, so strange, and a little bit silly, but once you get immersed in it, it does seem to sound a bit more haunting. But only a bit. But then that's what we were talking about, the vibe, and the mood, and Moloch creates such a strange unpredictable vibe, with his skewed perspective on black metal, which is what makes his sound, and his records so amazing. And which is exactly why we're so obsessed...
Brendon Anderegg and Koen Holtkamp are the men behind these Mountains. The two met in Chicago in 1999 and now live in Brooklyn; yet despite their urban living, Mountains long for the great outdoors. The big sky of Montana. The thunderclouds of the Arizona high desert. The forests of upstate New York. In their effortless blur of elliptically strummed acoustic guitars and elegantly sculpted ambience, Mountains celebrate the natural world, as leaves, rain, dirt, and snow all seem to speak through their beautifully monochromatic compositions.
Choral happens to be Mountains third full album and their first for Thrill Jockey. It also stands as their best album to date and even surpasses the almost universally beloved Field Rituals solo album by Holtkamp on Type. The brightly rendered guitar which gilded Holtkamp's solo record features prominently in the mix for Choral, but it has been tempered with gaseous effects and post-shoegazing processes that swaddle the guitar chords with equally rich drones and electrified mist. Melodica, analog synth, piano, hand bells, something that sounds like a hurdy gurdy, even more guitar, and found object scrabbing a la Jewelled Antler make their way through the soft focus blur of the digital treatments, which give evidence for comparisons in equal measure to Fennesz and Cluster. As the shimmering tones of finger-picked guitars trickle out of the slow pulsing drone of the title track, Mountains conjure images of the bright orange sunlight saturating wind-blown leaves at sunset. Halos of light burst around each glistening layer of sound, but there is a bittersweet aura to many of the melodies that slip beyond their transcendent ambience, as if the summer sun they portray in their songs is soon to be lost to the blustery winds of Autumn and the cold nights of Winter. The maudlin atmospheres continue on the insistent acoustic guitar chords of "Telescope," a near perfect bliss-out instrumental, on through the broken-hearted bells and deep tonal flutter of "Melodica."
If there's any justice, this will be universally hailed as one of the best records of 2009. And for vinyl freeks: the lp version of Choral enjoys two additional tracks not found on the cd!
For those of you patiently awaiting the newest opus from Russian black metallers Old Wainds, expected any day now, this might just hold you over. Two demos of ultra raw black buzz from Old Wainds offshoot Nav, fronted by OW drummer Izbor, available on cd for the first time. Nav's last record, the surprisingly polished and weirdly melodic The Wolf Sun, definitely rubbed a few people the wrong way, with a sound way more NWOBHM than black metal, not so much blasting and buzzing as riffing and rocking. Sure it was unexpected, but we dug it anyway. Maybe precisely because it was so awesomely confounding.
But this is something else entirely. Something more like the Nav (and the Old Wainds) we know and love. Imagine the first Nav, Halls Of Death, via Old Wainds' Wither Of The Wainds, and you'll get something very much like From Nav To Jav, the sound on these demos, originally released in 1996 / 1997 is raw raw raw, super lo-fi, chaotic and frenzied, the guitars are murky and muddy, the riffing surprisingly complex, but plenty blurry and washed out, the drums wild and splattery, the vocals a harsh demonic croak, with long swaths of fuzzy warbly keyboards, the recording in the red and ultra distorted, causing the songs to seemingly warp and crumble as they come careening out of the speakers. Sort of like the EEE un-black releases, the recording here is as much a part of the sound as the songs. A sound so saturated and fucked up, it almost sounds like Faxed Head, but still with that unmistakable Russian sound, so distinctive and evocative, hateful and harsh, shot through with a drone drenched buzz, killer riffing, everything completely fried and fractured and gloriously blown out.
Essential obviously for fans of all things Nav, Wainds, Russian and black, but maybe just as crucial for anyone into raw metallic chaos, and droney distorted buzz (lots of overlap there wethink), or heck, even if you just wished Faxed Head were deadly serious and way more heavy, then this is most definitely for you.
A few months ago, a mysterious disc showed up in the mail. Or more accurately, discs. Four cd-r albums of fucked up fractured outsider pop. No information anywhere on the discs, or the packaging, other than the words Crystal Shards. Which seemed pretty perfect. That's exactly what that stuff sounded like. Jagged and fragmented and crystalline and shimmery and totally bizarre and beautiful. So of course, as is our way, we become a little obsessed, and decided we had to track more down, so we could share these sounds with the aQ faithful�
But searches for Crystal Shards revealed almost nothing, and the label was sold out, and there were at that time no plans to make more Crystal Shards. SO we hd all but given up, until the label got in touch, and mentioned plans to release a proper cd, collecting various tracks from the Crystal Shards cd-r's, and we were thrilled, anxiously waiting its arrival, knowing that it would have to be a Record Of The Week.
And so here it is, but strangely enough, the band is no longer called Crystal Shards. In fact, there is no mention anywhere of Crystal Shards, instead, the band (actually, the man) is now called Night Control, and this disc, Death Control, collects some of our favorite Shards from those previous discs, and weaves them into a perfectly imperfect album of minimal murkiness, moody shimmer and lo-fi pop, generously dappled with effects and feedback and distortion, hooks and jangle buried in buzz and hiss. Woozy, dizzy, druggy, tripped out, and catchy as fuck. Think Ariel Pink, Gary War, John Maus, Ty Segall, Wavves, Blank Dogs, Kurt Vile, Night Control definitely fits pretty comfortably amongst those lo-fi fractured pop denizens, but definitely brings his own vibe to the party, offering up something folkier and prettier, more classically poppy, even Beatles-esque at times, but still plenty murky and freaked out and fucked up, and deliriously off kilter. We also hear some Grifters in there as well, which is never a bad thing.
Where as a lot of those other bands seem willfully obscure, the weirdness in Night Control's music seems more like a natural byproduct. As if the creation of these hauntingly perfect little pop fragments, invariably resulted in the sonic cast offs that litter the record, be they sheets of gauzy buzz, or jagged slivers of feedback, the songs at their very core, are pure pop, but that core is protected by layer after layer of noise and hiss and shimmer. Yet unlike many artists who make their pop 'weird' by adding random crap on top, or record on the shittiest equipment possible, the two sides of Night Control's sound, the jangly pop, and the lo-fi buzz, seem to meld into something totally new, a sound that couldn't exist with both those elements. The guitars jangle and strum, but often explode into blow out leads, or super crunchy textures, the bas burbles below the surface, but it too can sometimes crumble into a cloud of swirling buzz, the drums are simple and spare, but hold the whole thing together, along with the lilting vocals, always wreathed in reverb and delay. Every song here is a gem. And every song manages to reference classic pop, while filtering it through the new fractured noisepop style. Sebadoh covering Tom Petty, Cheap Trick as envisioned by Strapping Fieldhands, or imagine the Beatles or Kinks, if they were growing up today, and released handmade cd-r's. There may be noise and distortion and grit and buzz and hiss, but this stuff is way too poppy to really appeal to the noiseniks, instead this takes the sort of lo-fi pop of early Pavement records and Shrimper cassettes, and re-imagines it as some sort of alternate reality top 40, not like the bizarre alien FM radio of Ariel Pink, but something much more earnest and heartfelt. Total sad boy, late night mix tape nirvana for sure.
Hard to pick favorites, as this is a sort of greatest hits, culled from a catalog that as far as we're concerned is ALL hits, but two of our favorites are "Two Hard", with its lilting jangle, rubbery underwater bass, and some incendiary lead guitars, weaving lush sun dappled textures over a sort of repetitive post rocky drift, and "No Making", a woozy, drifty torch song, the bass driving the song, the whole thing warped and warbly, the tape speed subtly shifting throughout, causing the whole song to subtly shift and twist and making it feel like your speakers are melting, and as if that weren't enough, then there's an awesome soaring bridge / chorus, with some incredible lush guitar harmonies that could go on forever (and you'll wish they would).
Hopefully some of the other Crystal Shards stuff will surface in one form or another, but for now, there's plenty here to get lost in, a fantastic and phantasmagorical document of blissed out hallucinatory outsider noise pop. ESSENTIAL!
So this is one of those records where the cover totally gives away what's hiding inside. These Philadelphia drift-heads sent us this disc a few weeks ago, and we were totally blown away. The music so nicely reflects the cover photograph: beautiful, expansive oceanic horizons, almost glowing with a looming grayness. With keyboards, violin, three electric guitars and a bass, this five piece really hone in on a super liquidity, an organic, fluid type of drone composition. Their third album out of four, The Distance Brings Us Closer resonates with long, lush tones and delicate melodies that seem to blend and form chords in mid air. Always moving and turning like fog creeping along the forest floor, Northern Valentine has a distinct sound that kinda reminds us of a more darkened and coastal Windy and Carl playing with Rameses III in some giant cathedral. Very dark and mysterious, the record travels through blissed out walls of trance inducing drones and into more textural noisy Fennesz-like atmospheres. Though they call themselves a post-rock band, the guitars and instruments used are so dripping with reverb and delay that it might be more accurate to describe Northern Valentine as a dark and drifting ambient group. At least that's how they sound on this particular record, as word on the street is their other albums have drums and are more propulsive and less drifty. Either way we dig what they're doing A LOT, and couldn't wait to share it with all of you! If you like anything Type records related or that recently reviewed Elegi, you'll love this too! Completely and utterly recommended!!
The good news, is that this disc will be absolute heaven (or hell if you prefer) for the doom obsessed, for those who NEED utter and extreme heaviness, who thrive on massive walls of sludge, of creeping crumbling downtuned riffage, of skull splitting rib cage rattling drum pound. And the fact that this disc contains exclusive tracks from four of THEE heaviest and THEE doomiest bands around. The bad news though, is that somehow, this disc is already sold out at the label, so this could very well be the last we see of Four Burials. We did get a bunch of these, but since so many of the aQ faithful are of the doomier persuasion, odds are these will disappear in no time.
So most doomlords will see the above names and that's all it'll take, four exclusive tracks, LONG ones, from Loss, Orthodox, Mournful Congregation and Otesanek. For avid readers of the aQ list, you too are probably familiar with 2 or 3 of those. But just in case, we'll give a quick rundown of the bands / tracks that make up the Four Burials here...
Otesanek is up first. Last heard from splitting a disc with Japan's Coffins. They are definitely doomy, obviously, but might also be the heaviest of the bunch, a sort of Eyehategod meets Moss thing going on, and one of the few bands this slooooooow, to also fuck things up big time. Super strange arrangements, ultra dynamic, lots of weird starts and stops, angular riffs, crazy vocals (both male and female, both super intense and harsh). Definitely for fans of Khanate and Bunkur and all that sort of ultradoomdirge, but weirder and more fucked up. Definitely dying to hear more from these guys.
Next up is Loss, whose approach to doom is much more classic and melodic, beginning with some unnerving samples, woven into a spare doomy plod, the band slip into some seriously melodic post rock, all clean guitar and sparse drumming, eventually morphing into a sound majestic and massive, a bit like old My Dying Bride, impossibly loooow vocals, super mournful melodies, very dramatic and miserable. The song weaves back and forth between that classic doom-ic crush and the melancholy loping post rock, eventually somehow fusing the two.
Then comes longtime faves Orthodox, from Spain, whose sound, especially here, is way more spacious and spare, very minimal. with long stretches that are practically inaudible over the daily din of the store (this is headphone doom for sure!). Chanting, monk-like and somber, clean guitars drifting and shimmering, simple stripped down drumming, some wailing dramatic vocals, the sound an abstract mysterious slowcore that seems to get more and more strangely psychedelic, without ever getting overtly heavy. Really strange, but fans of Orthodox will already be well used to their, umm... un-Orthodox approach to all things doom.
Last up, legendary purveyors of true doom, Australia's Mournful Congregation, whose sound is sad and sorrowful, melancholy and miserable, a gorgeously epic lugubrious crawl, super melodic, but totally washed out and painted in sweeping shades of black and grey. Think Skepticism, Thergothon, Esoteric, Asunder, the sort of dark, slow motion, soul stirring creep we could listen to forever.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Holy shit, 30 seconds into this mysteriously packaged cd-r from SF's own M. Erickson and we're totally sucked into his hypnotic world of saxophone, synths and other various droning devices. Long tones enveloping and luring us through the darkened doors of a stone temple, beams of light pouring from an ominous orb that hangs above its dreary entrance. Mystical, entrancing and all-the-while darkly sinister. Dreary loops that move in a rhythmic march while trembling vocals ring out from the bowels of an empty cave. If Terry Riley ever spent a year alone in the deep dark woods of Norway, the final product might sound similar to this. Forested alchemic nightmare-ish minimalism, perfect for fans of Bonecloud, Ghosting or even Expo 70. But be forewarned, you WILL be left wanting more, as this limited cd-r from Bezoar barely even lasts thirty minutes. Short, sweet and to the point, highly recommended and a must have for all those who bow at the gates of the mystic minimalism temple.
We've been meaning to carry some Jean Ritchie for a long while. Our Appalachian folk cupboards seeming to be bone-dry bare without her exquisite interpretations of British traditional ballads of love, death and the supernatural filtered through the high lonesome rural-ness of the Kentucky mountains. Like fellow Kentuckian, John Jacob Niles, she was early on a noted student of musicology and folklore (as well as an amazing lap dulcimer player,) and keenly interested in the British roots of the songs she learned as a young girl. This anthology covers her interpretations of many of The Child Ballads, one of the first and most extensive catalogs of British traditional songs and their American variants put together in the late nineteenth century by Francis James Child, which includes songs with roots as far back as the thirteenth century, and deal with plenty of dark, gruesome and ghostly themes. Standouts on this anthology are Ritchie's version of one of our favorite morbid ballads, "Sweet William and Lady Margaret", also known just as "Lady Margaret" which was also featured on Karen Dalton's Green Rocky Road. So Beautiful!!!
All hail! Here's the 2009 release from the band who, along with Emperor, Immortal, Darkthrone, Mayhem and very few others, basically established the template/threw down the gauntlet for a vast majority of all the black metal we've raved about over the years. This Norwegian duo - frontman Satyr and drumgod Faust - have earned their rep as black metal legends. Yet they still keep pushing to get bigger and better... bigger at any rate. Their last couple of albums (Volcano and Now, Diabolical) saw them developing in a more commercial, or at least more mainstream metal, ROCK direction. While they didn't pull a Metallica, they definitely moved out of the underground. More power to 'em, even though they don't boast the best corpsepainted band photos in the biz anymore...
Now, with The Age Of Nero, we hear a Satyricon comfortable with their new, MTV-ready "black n' roll" status, but who also stand ready to remind their old fans just how grim and blasting and blackened they can be. With extra help from their old pal Snorre Ruch of the very cult Thorns, they've crafted a bombastic attack that's truly grim yet grooving, mostly midtempo and exceedingly tight. And quite catchy, a quality certainly not limited only to this disc's designated "hit single" / video clip "Black Crow On A Tombstone". (By the way, we dig that song, but sorry, the video is too funny, the slicked-back Satyr especially ridiculous, check it out on YouTube sometime...!) But if you only -hear- the song, it'll knock you on your ass. A massive, pounding "hit" indeed.
While some bemoan the overall "slowdown" of their sound, some of our favorite moments here are those more atmospheric ones, like the moody breaks in the midst of "The Wolfpack" for instance. And they can still grind you to dust beneath the lashing brutality of their distorted guitars, seasick riffage, and (when it kicks in) blazing battery. One of the album's other highlights is the epic closer, "Den Siste", which sees the return of the horn section that appeared on Now, Diabolical but also is sung/rasped entirely in Satyr's native Norwegian, old school style. Horns in black metal have always been all right with us, actually, from Potentiam to Sear Bliss to Den Saakaldte.
While we wonder if this band will every really surprise us again, that's ok. They can bring this brand of heaviness on album after album and we'll be happy!
The Shadow Ring were a deliberately odd British trio, beginning in 1993, releasing a handful of improbably compelling records for Corpus Hermeticum, Siltbreeze, Swill Radio and their own Dry Leaf Discs, and then terminating the project a decade later for reasons unknown. So much of what The Shadow Ring offer just should not work: comedically sloppy lullabies played on toy instruments, atonal squeals from cheap electronics, and rhythms banged on tin cans and xylophones. Yet, their persistence at methodically fucking up the simplest of melodies not only became an instant signature sound, it also became a metaphor for a dour, anti-social discomfort which also featured heavily in the lyrics from alternating vocalists Graham Lambkin and Darren Harris. Lambkin's voice is somewhat musical in nature, wrapping around the tinny stringed melodies as a counterpoint; but Harris, on the other hand, employs a commanding bellow which he wields with the urgent rhetorical flourish of a BBC announcer reading off obituaries, but with a snide delivery as if he loathed each person who had died. While Lambkin may have been more of the musical anti-genius of the two, Harris has the voice that reaches out to grab you by the ears. Lyrically, the Shadow Ring coupled the abject and the mundane, with rats, bottom-feeding shrimp, lice, and wasps all playing heavily into the convoluted poetics of their very English dourness. Life Review is a retrospective culled from their eight albums, handful of singles, and archive of unreleased material, including one mighty odd re-interpretation of Pink Floyd's "Interstellar Overdrive." Revisting The Shadow Ring has been a very worthwhile experience for all of us here at Aquarius, conjuring thoughts of Jandek and The Shaggs working together through the Current 93 back catalogue. Brilliantly fucked up.
Another little chunk of fractured noise pop from local popkid Sic Alps aka Mike Donovan. This is not super new, but odds are most folks never got their hands on it, as the label (Donovan, actually) sort of stopped making them for a while. So after a bit of nudging and cajoling, Fool's Mag is finally available again... for the first time, sort of. An ep length collection of that fuzzy washed out pop we've grown to love, and that only Sic Alps seems to kick out. Folks who dig stuff like Iran and Oh Sees, who haven't heard Sic Alps should really give it a chance, as they traffic in the same sort of hook filled noise drenched poppiness.
Short and sharp, warm muted distorted guitars, simple Pavement-y drumming, whiney sad boy vox, that occasionally slip into a strained falsetto, awesome buzzy sort-of-leads, lush harmonies, all buried in hiss and murk, the sound WAY lo-fi, but somehow the pop still shines through, hooks galore, melodies that will stick in your head like crazy, some of the best Sic Alps songs so far.
Not sure how long we'll have these, we did get a bunch, but you never know...
Japan's best black metal band (along with Sabbat) are back with their first US domestic release, having just been signed by big metal label Century Media. We've always been fans of their fucked-up genre-mangling horror movie soundtrack metal, and this might
Imagine Penguin Cafe Orchestra at a krautrock bluegrass hoedown, and that's close to approximating the sonic mind trip of this one man band (but it sounds like ten!) from Austin, Texas. Built on uplifting repetitive grooves, there's a little bit of everything here thrown on top: acoustic guitar, accordion, ramshackle percussion, bits of studio banter and electronic noises. But the signature instrumentation is violin and viola played in an intense minimalist bluegrass style (yet not trying to be like Henry Flynt) that keeps the proceedings electric and nervously frenetic. It almost sounds like too much to take, but the underlying songforms are highly engaging and the hodgepodge collection of sounds work in such an alchemical way that it all just inexplicably comes together perfectly. Even the recording style seems like Anthem Of The Sun era Grateful Dead, where they took multiple takes of the same piece recorded in a range of fidelities (many of them low) and magically filtered them together. This is a collaborative release from Time-Lag and the band's own label Indian Queen, and we must say it's one of the most refreshing and unique records we've heard in awhile!
Hurray, available again! Back in 2004, this Icelandic duo's self titled album made its way across the pond and into our welcome ears. Mind you, we had to turn every noisy machine in the store and hope for a respite from the jackhammering road work outside... yes, their music is really that hushed and hanging-by-a-thread intimate. Maybe best listened to late at night in a darkened room or deep in the woods? Daylight would surely overwhelm it.
Here's what we said about it the first time around:
Slowblow whisper out the gentlest of folk-pop, and they're assisted in their quiet mission by some baby-girl cooing vocals courtesy of Kristin Anna Valtysdottir from fellow Icelanders Mum. Some of their songs are so frail that a full drumkit would surely overwhelm them, thus instead a soft beat is tapped out on a woodblock. The livelier numbers do feature a more fleshed out rhythm section complete with handclaps. Although most of the album is of the hushed and earthy nature, every so often Slowblow take an unexpected musical detour or two. For instance, while the fourth song "Second Hand Smoke" sounds like a secret menagerie of wooden and tin toys, the very next track is a raw, almost garagey and Fall-ish tune with distorted vocals and clatterous percussion. Then, it's back into a somber, countrified number with plucked banjo and beleaguered Arab Strap-y male vocals. Depending on your sugar tolerance, you might find the songs with Kristin's vocals a bit cloying, but overall this album is ultra wistful and pretty.
All right all of you Mississippi Records fans who have dug those amazing old school gospel compilations, do we have a book for you! One of the best tracks from The Life Is A Problem... compilation was from Elder Utah Smith, The Church Of God In Christ Pastor who played his electric guitar and wore two giant angel wings to preach the gospel and whip his revival audiences into an evangelical frenzy. For forty years from 1925 to 1965, Reverend Smith travelled across the country conducting his Holy Ghost revivals for his church, and this book collects amazing oral anecdotes, witness testimony and vintage photographs of this legendary gospel figure. Plus it comes with a cd of 18 tracks culled from extremely rare 78's, five tracks of which have never been issued before. So Awesome!!!
THIS GREAT ALBUM FINALLY RE-PRESSED AND BACK IN STOCK!!
The ever-reliable Sublime Frequencies label opens our ears to new frontiers of amazing sounds, AGAIN. "World music" isn't just what Putumayo puts out, y'know. Any adventurous music-fan should by now know to pick up each and every Sublime Frequencies release as they appear, you won't be disappointed. This latest cd presents some "Folk And Pop Sounds Of Syria" in the form of a "best-of" collection of tunes by one Omar Souleyman, selected (and explicated in the liner notes) by AQ pal Mark Gergis (of Porest, Neung Phak, Mono Pause). Mark was the compiler of previous Sublime Freq faves like Choubi Choubi, Molam: Thai Country Groove, and Cambodian Cassette Archives. Already we hope you're eager to hear this disc, which features a variety of traditional folk forms from Souleyman's homeland and nearby countries supercharged with synth, the rapid fire results sounding something like a Middle Eastern version of Aavikko, almost. It'll make you sweat just listening to it. This stuff simply shreds. And when it's more mellowed-out, Souleyman's music is gorgeous too.
Now, we don't usually like to quote label press-releases whole-hog, but Sublime Frequencies has provided a lot of factual info on Souleyman and his music that any potential purchaser will find of interest, and so rather than paraphrase, here's what they said about this, it should certainly pique your curiosity all the more (though we'll tell you right now without further ado, GET THIS):
"Omar Souleyman is a Syrian musical legend. Since 1994, he and his musicians have emerged as a staple of folk-pop throughout Syria, but until now they have remained little known outside of the country. To date, they have issued more than five-hundred studio and live-recorded cassette albums which are easily spotted in the shops of any Syrian city. Born in rural northeastern Syria, he began his musical career in 1994 with a small group of local collaborators that remain with him today. The myriad musical traditions of the region are evident in their music. Here, classical Arabic mawal-style vocalization gives way to high-octane Syrian dabke (the regional folkloric dance and party music), Iraqi choubi and a host of Arabic, Kurdish and Turkish styles, among others. This amalgamation is truly the sound of Syria. The music often has an overdriven sound consisting of phase-shifted Arabic keyboard solos and frantic rhythms. At breakneck speeds, these shrill Syrian electronics play out like forbidden Morse-code, but the moods swing from coarse and urgent to dirgy and contemplative in the rugged anthems that comprise Souleyman's repertoire. Oud, reeds, baglama saz, accompanying vocals and percussion fill out the sound from track to track. Mahmoud Harbi is a long-time collaborator and the man responsible for much of the poetry sung by Souleyman. Together, they commonly perform the "Ataba," a traditional form of folk poetry used in Dabke. On stage, Harbi chain smokes cigarettes while standing shoulder to shoulder with Souleyman, periodically leaning over to whisper the material into his ear. Acting as a conduit, Souleyman struts into the audience with urgency, vocalizing the prose in song before returning for the next verse. Souleyman's first hit in Syria was "Jani" (1996) which gained cassette-kiosk infamy and brought him recognition throughout the country. Sublime Frequencies is honored to present the Western debut of Omar Souleyman with this retrospective disc of studio and live recordings spanning 12 years of his career, culled from cassettes recorded between 1994 and 2006. This collection offers a rare glimpse into Syrian street-level folk-pop and Dabke - a phenomena seldom heard in the West, not previously deemed serious enough for export by the Syrians and rarely, if ever, included on the import agenda of worldwide academic musical committees."
Got it? Get it. Recommended!
We were a little put off by the band name, quite a mouthful, but we were super psyched when we got an earful of these guys' super aggressive, epic, post metal crunch. Tough to stand out these days in the super saturated genre pool that is metallic post rock but these guys manage to pull it off big time, borrowing equally from nineties post rock, crusty sludge, epic instrumental chamber rock, and then adding in their own 2 cents. Obviously fans of Pelican and Mogwai and Isis and Snowblood and all that stuff will want this. But there's a whole lot more going on. Some Morricone-ish spaghetti western twang, complete with harmonica, some Krautrock-y groove, some bits of twangy slide guitar, thick swaths of fuzzy drifting guitar ambience, dizzying angular riffing, dense tribal drumming, buzzing almost new wave sounding synths, some long stretches of moody indie jangle. But it's the bands' deft hand with melody and songwriting and arrangement that makes this record so moving. The focus is way more on mood and texture than heaviness or brutality (although it is occasionally both heavy and brutal), with the epic slow builds often taking up the majority of a song, or a crushing dirge suddenly collapsing into the prettiest dang melody you've ever heard. And c'mon, let's mention the slide guitar again. We're such suckers for the slippery dreaminess of slide guitar. We sort of wish it was everywhere, on every song, but as it is, when it does kick in, we get goosebumps.
So yeah, there's always room for one more on the post rock epic metal sludge bandwagon, as long as they're doing something new and different with the sound, and thus working hard to knock someone else off.
It's been almost 3 years since we've heard from turntable mad scientist and alchemist Strotter Inst., whose haunting mechanical record player mini-symphonies evokes mysterious worlds, populated with shadow creatures and amorphous figures operating strange turntable like machinery, everything shaded grey, with a patina of rust, or perhaps dust, the machines wheezing as turntables spin lugubriously, multiple tone arms like a child's mechanical toy octopus, everything held together by rubber bands and bits of strings, a Rube Goldberg style contraption, designed to create a new world of sound, the above mentioned shadowy kingdom, where we can wander and get lost.
Strotter Inst. is Swiss musician / tinkerer Christoph Hess, who customizes old turntables, using whatever is at hand, to create loop making machines, collages of skipping sounds, but unlike the playful melodiousness of Pierre Bastien, or the gauzy ambient drift of Philip Jeck, Strotter's sound is much more raw, and almost heavy, feral even, tons of low end, drones everywhere, hiss and buzz and rumble, in fact much of the time, the turntable sounds like it has been transformed into some sort of instrument of destruction, conjuring up some seriously abject Wolf Eyesian dirgescapes, heaving and roiling expanses of looped blackness, as if some evil genius unleashed his army of automatons, a landscape dotted with Steampunk style contraptions, all gears and ratchets, spewing steam and lurching forward in unison, in fact much of the time, if one didn't know better, one might not even realize that the music of Strotter Inst. was created with turntables. Until the sound shifts, and suddenly a staticky crackly record begins to skip, and becomes the rhythmic source for whatever might come next. Sometimes the sound will hew close to that stuttering skeletal framework, other times, the skipping record is immediately engulfed by thick slabs of sonic blackness, churning machinelike whirs, and percussive low end thrum, this is industrial music for sure, especially if the industry in question was antique turntables. Seriously though, the sounds here are occasionally pretty intense, and heavy and abrasive, which sort of shames the various noisemakers who need a table top full of pedals and a bunch of amps, and a million patch cords and cd players and mixers to make their music, especially when one old man with a handful of record players, a pocket full of rubber bands, a soldering iron and a pile of turntable parts, can kick up a rhythmic din just as hard and heavy as any of 'em. But it's definitely not all hard and heavy, those blasts are balanced by long loping stretches of motorik rhythms, looped and hypnotic, locked into totally mesmerizing grooves, a symphony of percussive thumps and twanging rubber bands woven into strange alien krautrocky dirges.
So fantastic! We often forget to include him in the aQ turntable pantheon, but he absolutely belongs: Jeck, Tetreault, Otomo, Bastien, Fun Years, and Strotter Inst.!!
Packaged in a beautiful cardstock sleeve, with a super striking fold out poster.
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THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
What does Japanese underground psych-folk, limited to 300 copies, we only got a dozen mean to you? That we don't have to write a lengthy review of this? Thanks, we thought so.
It's criminal that they made this so limited, 'cause some fans of this band are going to be disappointed (the ones that don't get a copy, of course, not those that do). This disc is another bleak trip into the "mystic atmosphere" of Suishou No Fune's lo-fi soundworld, the six long tracks here wandering a metaphorical, musical labyrinth golden with the glow of a setting sun. Some tracks generate a droning din, others more languidly flow with fragile vibrations, the band almost nodding off, but *nervously* never quite achieving that sad bliss. It's a hazy and gauzy interplay of (mostly) subdued electric guitar, clattering drums, and morose, wailing vocals that sound like the singer is singing *to himself*, trying to stave off existential loneliness and despair in the depths of the labyrinth. The guitar will sometimes build up, threatening full-on psych storms, but only really reaches max volume on the disc's final track, "Exit From The Labyrinth".
We'd recommended this to fans of LSD-march, Fushitsusha, etc. but it's not necessary. Firstly those folks probably already know about Suishou No Fune and secondly, we only have enough of these for Suishou No Fune fans first and foremost.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
This mysterious musical missive showed up here way back in 2007, and quietly slipped through the cracks, and sat huddled on a shelf in the closet, until just a matter of days ago when we re-discovered it, and thus, we present to you, the last 10 copies of this long out of print cd-r, released in a limited edition of 100.
It was so long ago, we're ashamed to admit, we don't remember much about the band or what they're all about, so we'll go purely on sound (which is probably what we should do anyway).
Two looooong tracks, the first begins quite strangely, a thick undulating dronescape made from voices, howls and hums and croons woven into a strangely soothing wall of textured sound, we kept expecting it to shift but it never does, 19 minutes of pure voice raga, it's super intense, and so raw and intimate and organic, when it ends, like all dense drones, it feels like all the air gets sucked out of the room.
After the fervent intensity of the first track, the tranquil beginning of track two is almost jarring in it's softness, drifting clouds of bells and chimes, spread out over lots of space. Once again, we kept expecting the song to kick in, but instead, it's another exercise in space and tension, ultra minimal and percussive, the chimes and bells ring out and are allowed to decay to almost near silence, before the next flurry of tinkling and chiming. Really gorgeous and strangely zen.
This sort of stuff requires dedicated close listening, headphones help, but that sort of listening is indeed rewarded.
Packaged in a beautiful cardstock sleeve, with paste on liner notes and abstract cover, a metallic gold sticker, and a cd spray painted gold. Once again, there were only 100 copies and that was a year ago, so these are definitely the last copies we'll see...
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The third in a new series of 7" singles from some very familiar names. Elsewhere on this list you'll find the first two volumes, one from local boys Tussle and the other from A sunny Day In Glasgow, and now this one, number three, comes from another bunch of local boys, Tarentel, who have been a bit quiet as of late, the various members pursuing their various solo projects, leaving us to enjoy little bits of Tarentel here and there, archival recordings mostly, as we wait patiently for a new full length.
We recently reviewed Tarentel's Live Edits disc on Digitalis, a collection of, well, live edits from various performances, and one of the things we noticed was how rhythmic and almost heavy some of the performances were. The A side, here, or the North side, in keeping with the series theme, sounds like it could have come from the same performance, very drum heavy, a loping groove that sounds almost looped, as the drums are subtly effected and all around them swirl bits of feedback and blurred noise, very krautrocky, with that noisy backdrop surprisingly caustic at points, but just as often smoothed out into buzzing snarling dronescapes, still littered with jagged shards of feedback, and still hovering over that relentless rhythm.
Turning South (to the B side) we find the band ditching the drums completely, for a brooding soundtracky drift, spidery abstract guitars, warm whirring buzz, lush smears of hazy ambience, subtle effects and mysterious rumblings, all woven into the theme music for some late night rainy day wander through some crumbling city, culminating in a haunting bit of cacophony, a corrosive blackened drone, that plays out to the very end of the side before suddenly blinking out.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES! Super simple, striking covers, mint green vinyl!
THE magazine of "extreme" metal (all metal, really, except for really wimpy glam/pop/hair metal stuff that doesn't really exist much in this day and age), England's Terrorizer, presents their first issue of 2009, which includes their '2009 Preview' of exciting upcoming releases (from Absu to Voivod), the results of the 2008 Reader's Poll, their writer's picks for the top 40 albums of '08 (number one: Enslaved, and hey, Jex Thoth clocks in at 30), and all sorts of other stuff. There's the usual massive review section, and news flashes, and ads for insane European metal festivals you'll never get to go to. Then of course interviews, with the likes of cover stars Children of Bodom, Ephel Duath, Saxon, Architects, and others, including a ton of brief bits on less-known bands, among whom we noted The Wizar'd and The Devil's Blood. What else? A scene report on Swedish metal new and old, a look back at the making of ...And Justice For All, and more - including the usual bonus cover-mounted cd sampler w/ tracks by Behemoth, Kreator, Bullet, and others. Lots to delve into here, headbangers!
Very few record labels attain the sort of iconic status usually reserved for artists, and those that do, often spend YEARS cultivating a roster, and developing a fanbase, made up of the sort of fans that will buy ANYTHING and everything on the label. In the past, Sub Pop, Touch And Go, Homestead, tUMULt (sez Andee!), but lately a couple labels have managed to make that leap in a matter of months rather than years. Mississippi of course. Reissuing all manner or blues, gospel and punk rock rarities on vinyl, and now Plus Tapes, who are doing the same, albeit with international sounds instead, and focusing on the cassette tape as the format of choice. Always limited, and always guaranteed to sell out in a heartbeat.
And this latest reissue from Plus Tapes will most likely be no different, aside from those folks who will buy ANYTHING, regardless of what it is, before they hear it or even know anything about it, this collection from Travellers, will be of great interest to fans of all the Sublime Frequencies releases for sure. From Singapore, Travellers, traffic in a sort of groovy jazzy surf pop, rife with Morricone-isms, plenty of twang, groovy Mariachi horns, fluttering flutes, simple shuffling drums, spidery guitar melodies, cheesy synthesizers and lots of reverby surf rock , occasional wild rock saxophone, all with a distinctly Eastern vibe.
Lots of this sounds like the soundtrack from some long lost Western or kung fu epic, surfy, jazzy, funky, folky, playful, slipping from minor key moodiness to fun sunshine-y poppiness, always dramatic and evocative and most definitely always groovy.
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!!! Already sold out at the label, we have the last copies, more than a third of the pressing came to aQ, but these still probably won't last long. Full color covers, hand numbered, green tapes, correspondingly numbered!
The second in a series of limited 7"s (the other two are from Tarentel and A Sunny Day In Glasgow) features local SF rhythm jammers, Tussle. The A-side track, "Animal Cop" begins as a lackadaisical dance rhythm with some fuzzy bass before breaking down into percussive clatter and switching gears into what sounds like a seventies cop theme, albeit one buried in fuzzy reverb. While the B-side, "Room 191", is a heavy slow dub with distorted synth crashes put through a wobbly syrupy filter that almost sounds like a Screw backing track.
Our only complaint is that it's too short! We could have easily listened to 5 minutes of that!
Never listed this on vinyl before, here it is... 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.
Never listed this on vinyl before, here it is... 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.
Another year, another collection of gauzy, washed out atmospheric shimmer from Kompakt. The latest in their ongoing series chronicling the more ambient (and poppy?) side of techno, but unlike past installments, there has been a serious shift this time around. Not only are there a bunch of new artists, but the sound itself has definitely been transformed. Before, Pop Ambient seemed to be more about processed electronics and bleary eared synthscapes, like techno with the beats stripped away, but this time around, while those electronic and synth elements haven't been abandoned completely, the sound seems much more organic, more Kranky than Kompakt, more like a sound unto itself. We use Pop Ambient to describe much of our favorite drone music, hazy, shimmery, gauzy, dreamy, be it Tim Hecker, Aidan Baker, Jesu and the like, Pop Ambient, for us at least, has become a sort of analog to shoegaze, a drifting sound blurred and smeared and indistinct, while somehow remaining melodic and mesmerizing. Its relation to techno tenuous, if entirely nonexistent at this point, having taken off a life, and a sound of its very own.
Every Pop Ambient comp has been a huge hit around here, so much so that we just naturally assumed that we had probably made all of them Records Of The Week in the past, but upon checking, we realized only one had made ROTW. Well, now TWO.
2009's Pop Ambient focuses much more on real instruments, horns, guitars, pianos, all woven into the already familiar landscape of soft synths and barely there rhythmic pulses, a swirling slow moving ambience, that flits from haunting chamber music, to looped post rock, to deep drone.
The first thing you might notice, is some very aQ artists amidst the usual suspects, sure there's Klimek, Andrew Thomas, Burger / Voigt, but then also Tim Hecker and The Fun Years, as if they had asked for our 2 cents in putting together this year's comp. And sonically, we couldn't have done better ourselves. Much darker, and more mysterious than past installments, surprisingly varied, but it works beautifully as an album, not just a collection.
Warped orchestral fanfares are slowed down and blurred beautifully, with a subtle rhythmic undercurrent, warm woozy horns blurred into sun dappled streaks, shimmery dramatic strings wind around plaintive piano, gorgeous and soundtracky, moody free jazz records get spun at 16 rpm, the piano plucking out a funereal dirge, flutes woven into wavering sheets of sound, record crackle everywhere, bits of electronic shimmer get stretched out into gauzy looped soundscapes, simple repetitive guitar figures lope dreamily over long stretches of harmonized horns, epic sweeping swells of dramatic buzz ebb and flow over buried melodies, distorted guitars unwind amidst swirling clouds of gritty textured ambience, skittering Oval-like loopscapes stutter and glitch soft focus tendrils of electronic whir, spidery guitars tangle with looped samples, locking into impossibly dreamy drifts of hypnotic repetition.
It's a breathtaking collection of sonic wonder, of sounds we truly consider to be Pop Ambience, haunting and otherworldly, subtly dark, sometimes ominous, always gorgeous, and of course totally recommended. And while this is a no brainer for the Pop Ambient obsessed, the minimal techno folks, and the Kompakt fanatics, this record might prove to be a new favorite for anyone into Stars Of The Lid, Pan American, Labradford, Eluvium, Windy And Carl and other purveyors of deep drone and nocturnal drift.
Skull Disco is dead. Hence this sonic gravestone, collecting a handful of the label's last few 12"s on one disc, and some remixes on the other. Definitely one of the most kick ass and ground breaking electronic labels of the last few years (certainly one of our favorites) Skull Disco took dubstep, minimal techno, and various other electronic offshoots and created their own incredibly distinct sound, murky and skittery, mysterious and otherworldly, with deep rumbling bass, skeletal rhythms, and the occasional vocal, usually some strange deep voice intoning rather than singing, making the sound even more ominous and harrowing. And while that sound is most definitely dubstep, as we mentioned in our review of the first collection, the sound is equally indebted to Muslimgauze, On-U-Sound and Spectre. Heck a few years ago, and Shackleton would probably have been putting out records on WordSound!
Shuffling abstract beats, rumbling bass, subtle shadings and effects, these are low slung late night grooves. More chillout than dancefloor, more dub really than dubstep. Some tracks get a little Kompakt, but even then, it's dialed WAY back, tinted windows, tinted shades, dark corner of the club, cruising moonlit streets, hanging out under bridges, gathered around flickering fires, this is brooding moody midnight shit. So good. Not sure what else to say, if you bought the other one (and if you didn't, why the heck not?!) you're need this one too, if you've been into all the dubstep we've been listing, you'll probably want this too, or if you're just looking for some killer dark anti-dance music, or some chill out bliss out drift off lullabies, then this will do the trick.
But wait! What about the second disc? All the remixes, some previously released, but others available for the first time. The Pole mix is a killer, and as unlikely as it may seem, it's LESS minimal than the original, the Rupture mix is cool too, but way too short at 2 minutes. Other remixers include T++. Geiomix, Brendan Moller, Bass Clef, Badawi and others, nothing too dramatic, just subtle variations on the original, the Badawi maybe being our favorite, looooong at 12+ minutes, and super spare, super dark, mostly drums, the sounds processed and effected, the whole thing even more dubbed out than the original!
Packaged in a super striking oversized mini gatefold lp style cd sleeve, with that immediately recognizable Skull Disco artwork.
Vanessa Van Basten are from Italy and are a they, not a she. We were never able to get copies of VVB's last record, so we wanted to make sure we didn't miss out this time around. Two long tracks, total post rock nirvana, equal parts, Mogwai, Pelican, with plenty of nineties style mathrock mixed in, a bit of Polvo, a little Pitchblende, the result is a super rocking, epic and majestic sound that may borrow much in terms of sound and influence, but is totally all their own.
Anyone who's been digging any of the various post rock, math rock and shoegaze stuff on the list lately will no doubt be digging VVB's particular strain of instrumental rock, with the occasional sample filling in for vocals, these guys definitely rock, there are moments where the sound drifts and shimmers, but when the band are on, they are ON, super heavy, aggressive riffing, kick ass drumming (replacing the drum machine that drove the last release), and some awesome songwriting, super dynamic with plenty of push and pull, back and forth, not the usual start slow, get loud, although the title track does lean in that direction, beginning as a brooding drift, before the drums kick in and the song slowly transforms from minor key shuffle to super crunchy almost metallic heaviness, before getting all glimmery and shimmery and finally slipping back into a softly tangled mathy fade out.
It's definitely short, 2 tracks, 23 minutes, but these guys pack a lot into those two tracks, and again, any one digging on Pelican or Isis or Anapparatus or Conifer or any of that stuff, this will definitely hit the spot.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!! Packaged with a thick cd booklet in an oversized black and red sleeve.
Vetiver makes the major leap to Sub Pop and it's a good fit indeed! Vetiver's unique blend of airy Americana and sun-dappled country folk seems right at home with groups like Iron and Wine and Fleet Foxes. Using his last record of early seventies covers of obscure folk and country rock as a jumping off point, Andy Cabic makes a sublime record that could easily be mistaken for a lost seventies artifact. But don't expect this to be just a mere genre exercise. Warm soft breezy lullabies, perfect for early morning or late night listening, filled with gentle atmospherics and subtle flourishes of horns and cellos. A bit more introspective than the earlier records, Cabic imbibes the proceedings with plenty of well hewn songwriting heft and master musicianship, especially in the side closers, "Down From Above" and "At Forest Edge" where he performs mostly all the instrumentation himself. Here the lilting keyboard textures and treatments transport us to a different kind of cosmic place altogether. Wonderful!
We got this disc a while back, but like many things around here, it got overlooked in the day to day hustle and bustle, and we only just rediscovered them a couple days ago, and figured we should get it reviewed and up on the list. Cuz it's from a year or two ago, and cuz you know we gotta represent, this horde of black metal warriors is from right here in the Bay Area, Oakland to be exact, and have been playing around town like crazy.
This demo is super raw, practice space style, lo-fi for sure, with loud drums, loud vocals, and the guitars murky and muddy and a little lost in the mix, but the various parts tend to bleed into one another, making for a fuzzy blown out bit of blasting blackness. Chaotic and primal, noisy and almost punky at times, and weirdly enough, there seems to be some super melodic poppy elements creeping in here and there. Which gives the sound (especially the opening track) a really strange vibe.
Busy guy, that M. Ward! Every precious second that he saves not writing out his full first name is surely put to good music-making use! All kidding aside, although his She & Him collaboration last year with actress Zooey Deschanel didn't really charm the pants off of many of us here, his solo offerings sure have. This time it sounds like he decided to try a little (or a lot) of something different. On songs such as his cover of "Rave On", it sure does sounds like he dusted off his Zeppelin and T-Rex albums for a bit more inspiration. And perhaps coming full circle, you can hear some similarities between M. Ward's music on Hold Time and that of one of his earliest boosters/benefactors Howe Gelb. Much more so than ever before. This unexpected eclecticism and eccentricities might toss a few of his devotees from the fan wagon, particularly those hankering for more of his familiar warm rustic Americana - as is found on his last two awesome, immediately captivating albums Post-War and Transistor Radio. Don't be too hasty though. We suspect this might be a 'grow on you' kind of album. Guests include the abovementioned Deschanel as well as Lucinda Williams, Grandaddy's Jason Lytle, and Devotchka's Tom Hagerman.
We've had this record by British band Winters (not to be confused with seminal doom-dirge act Winter) for some time now, but as with so many deserving things, didn't find time to review it until now, and it's a shame 'cause it's a great album we probably should have highlighted back when. Well, great if you love Nirvana and things that sound like Nirvana. The worst criticism (unoriginality) that could be leveled against Winters is also their biggest draw - how much they sound like good ol' Nirvana!! That's right. Though this came out (in '07) via England's hairy, heavy Rise Above label (home to the doomy, stoner likes of Electric Wizard and Witchcraft, among others), Winters are a bit poppier than you might expect. With loads of fuzzy, crunchy guitar riffs, yeah - but definitely poppy in an old school GRUNGE way, complete with slightly whiney, sometimes sing-songy vocals very reminiscent of Kurt Cobain's. The Melvins and Black Sabbath and '60s garage psych are all obvious influences (the band also cites The Creation, The Kinks, Elliott Smith, and Witchfinder General, among other inspirations). Their song "Aftershown" is what "Iron Man" would have sounded like if it had been ripped off by Kurt for inclusion on Bleach! And there's plenty more of those sorts of Sabbath meets Shocking Blue riffs and hooks on here, both languid and lurching. Aside from Nirvana, we'd also figure that fans of old Soundgarden and Fudge Tunnel might dig this, among others... or for more recent reference, how 'bout imagining a hybrid of the first albums from Burning Brides and Witch?
A couple years ago we reviewed an obscure, DIY cd-r release, In The Stars, by this band Wormsblood. As you might guess from their name, they're an underground black metal free noise new weird America psych folk cd-r band... oh wait you might not guess that. But you'd get the idea this is something dark and strange and evil, right? Not some normal indie rock band that's for sure. And you know this, if you remember our review of that previous release. So, band leader Wyrdskull (an alter ego of Clay Ruby from freak folksters Davenport and psych doomsters Jex Thoth, we have reason to believe) and cohorts are back with a new release, an actual cd this time, though the music is still way DIY and lo-fi (like we like it!), consisting of three "demo" sessions recorded between 2004 and 2008. Though without that info you wouldn't know this wasn't conceived as all one album. Ten tracks total, about 38 minutes of very, very fucked up "metal". Like, if Ariel Pink did even -more- drugs and then tried to produce a black metal album. Or, imagine a black metal Faxed Head (as we said about 'em before). It's that weird, that WRONG. And thus damn right in our ears. 'Cause if we know anything, we know our fucked up black metal. Dead Reptile Shrine, Varghkogargasmal, Vorak, Dead Raven Choir's Cask Strength stuff, old Necrofrost, Wold, etc., this fits right in, not that it really fits in anywhere.
The disc starts off with the amazing/retarded "Fragments Of The Witch" which will either convince you this is the best thing you've heard since you played the Weakling album backwards through a malfunctioning Kaoss pad while screaming at the top of your lungs, or convince you to turn it off. Obviously, we're part of the former camp. A murky, palpitating admixture of primitive, clanking rhythms, truly over-the-top gargled and anguished kokills, dim distorted guitar riffs and woozy synths dealing out Skeptical doom plod. All of it mired in an echoey, almost dubby "production". The next track, "Hollow Cost Nothing", ups the ante with even more majestic, messed up melodies. It dawns on us that whomever is on guitar can really play. Somehow this makes Wormsblood sound even more insane. It also suggests that maybe one way to look at this isn't as an attempt at making tr00 cvlt black metal primitivism, but rather as simply a very, very, VERY damaged version of traditional '80s heavy metal (and we recall they did do a Manilla Road cover on the In The Stars cd-r)...
Then, there's a track that also appeared on that cd-r,"The First Dim Shinings (Of Those About To Awaken)", which takes a turn into ritualistic ancient folk musick, with a military snare and Muppet-on-meth vocals. It's like Ghost meets Abruptum. Or ESP-Disk's Cromagnon gone metal. That's followed by "Sig Bind", which begins with abstract, Jewelled Antler-y atmospheres before erupting with high-end guitar neck strangle, kind of like a Kemialliset Ystavat meets Krallice mashup. By the end of this track, it's a madhouse of maniacal voices, harshing the mellow with which it began. And on it goes, this disc of demos delving backwards in time, the recordings getting boombox-ier and buzzier, the songs even less songlike and more soundscapey if possible. "Goodnight" opens a can of that Striborg-style aersol spray, a grim sonic mist of vibrating electric strings and hissing exhalations. "Obsessed By The Bloodstone" (is that shout-out to cult pulp fantasist Karl Edward Wagner?) is an ambient piece for keyboard - and barking dog! And then sometimes, they get it together for an extended spasm of, uh, song, full of high pitched singing/shrieking and chaotic drums/guitars.
Now, you might be thinking, there's other black metal releases on this week's AQ list. Yet this is the only one we chose as a Record Of The Week. Does that mean it's BETTER than those other black metal albums? Better than Ayat, or Moloch, or Nav, or the new Satyricon, for example? Well, no, not exactly. But we're not judging this purely as a black metal release. We figured this was something that AQ customers into any sort of bizarre, fucked up music (many of whom love black metal, to be sure) would find intriguing. 'Cause as metal as this is (and it IS, really metal, if you listen close) it's equally something else entirely. There's whole passages of "music" here that sound more like that fake field recordings disc Jurassic Soundscapes, but with lonely werewolves wandering around in the prehistoric swamps. And drugged up pterodactyls swooping about overhead. Wormsblood's sound is as much recognizable metallic instrumentation (guitars, drums, vocals) as it is wyrd sound FX and destroyed noise, rustlings and clankings and howlings.
As befits this music, this comes packaged in black and white and grey, bearing disturbing, fantastical, hellish yet cartoonish line drawings that look a bit like Mike Diana's notorious art... get the LP if you want to study the drawings in detail.
We've been stocking this popular magazine regularly for a little while now and thought we ought to put it on our website so mailorderers looking for more readin' material could get in on the XLR8R action. Focusing primarily on electronica type stuff, XLR8R also dabbles with the rock... This issue features Mr. Oizo on the cover, plus Zomby, the Vivian Girls, Telepathe, Senor Coconut... and much more, including ex-AQ'er Antaeus' band Lazer Sword. It's pretty packed, with reviews, columns, all sorts of stuff. And if that wasn't enough, the plastic bag it's wrapped in also contains an even bigger, BONUS magazine, the very first issue of XLR8R's Vis-Ed publication, devoted to visual arts! Featuring hip artists Rinzen, Kustaa Saksi, Catalina Estrada, Brent Rollins, Brian Roettinger, Laurent Fetis, Seripop, JK5, Freegums, Superdeux...
