Calling all skweee-jays! Or would-be skweee-jays. We've got four new 7" singles of fresh skweee straight from the source, imported from Flogsta Danshall in Finland. They're in plain white sleeves, the only art to be found here on the labels. If you've followed our other skweee recommendations (both Museum Of Future Sound comps, the more recent Skweee Tooth collection) then you know all about this Scandinavian DIY electro b-boy instrumental 8-bit phenomenon, and you'll also already be familiar with the strange names of the artists on these four singles.
Flogsta boss Limonious' slinky "Swedish Pommak" already wormed its way into our ears via the Museum Of Future Sound Vol. 2, though the jittery yet spacey b-side "Hurri Up!" we hadn't heard before. And all the tracks by Mangrove, Mrs. Queda, and Joxaren (all three artists hailing from Sweden) are new to us as well. Suffice to say, if you like skweee, you'll like these cuts, presented here in skweee's ideal format.
Joxaren's "Ritam Bluz" is a chiming, exotic, slightly sinister groove. Mrs Queda's laidback "Post-Pubertal" bleeps and bloops nicely along aided by robotic handclaps and digital hisses (oddly, her MySpace page lists Neutral Milk Hotel's Jeff Mangum as her only influence). Maybe our fave of the batch, Mangrove's "Angry Animals", is a bit of a fractured funky banger, bringing down some rigid buzzin' beats. The flip is pretty solidly crunchy / catchy too. The various other A- and B- sides on these 7"s are all pretty darn skweelicious as well! Seriously, if you're a DJ, just throw one of these on in your set for instant skweee cred. Listening at home is fun too.
Go here: http://skweee.com/ for a lot more interesting skweee info, including interviews with some of the folks we just mentioned.
Nite Jewel's album Good Evening is shaping up to be one of our favorites of the year, so we were super excited for these new bedroom jams on her second 12", released on the always great Italians Do It Better label. Taking her hazy lo-fi spaced out slow jam sound to even greater heights of smoky delight. "Want You Back" might just surpass "What Did He Say" as her most infectious song yet! Still somehow infusing a shoegazey and dazed vibe into her coming down from the dance floor grooves. The B-side "All Out Of Order" finds her using a vocoder for maximum slow burn effect, and it's pretty rad that she also included a version of the song in Spanish. As much as we've been playing this we also can't take our eyes off the 12"s cover with its saturated colors and faded image that reminds us of the classic look of 12"s by groups like the Cocteau Twins and My Bloody Valentine. All the way around, an awesome release!
We should probably stop being surprised when we discover records we dig and groups we love are in fact made by or made up of long time aQuarius customers. It makes sense after all. People who are obsessed with cool weird music are often the same ones who make it. We should also probably stop marvelling about what a small world it is, similar to the above sentiment, it makes sense that people into the same sort of weird shit would gravitate toward each other.
So thus, it makes perfect sense, that The Observatory, who hail from Singapore, count at least one long time aQ mailorder customer as a member, and thus it should also make perfect sense, that The Observatory's eye popping, ultra deluxe hardcover silver inked book packaging was designed by none other than Justin Bartlett, another aQ customer, and the man responsible for the first bad ass installment in our Artist Edition t-shirt series. So now that we're no longer surprised, and all finished marvelling, we can get to the music.
The Observatory are difficult to describe. Their sound is lush, and dark, and mysterious, woozy and softly psychedelic. The core traditional band instruments are augmented by what sounds like a whole mess of other random instruments. The songs sprawl, the seem to ooze and creep and drift. Mark Ribot like angular guitars are draped over a Bohren like dirge, sunshiney almost Beach Boys harmonies are woven into a slowly swirling synthscape, drums are minimal and spare, the songs shift into soft mysterious dreampop, with Theremins, steel string guitars, and hushed crooned vocals, more of those glorious harmonies, before drifting back into something more croonsome, until some crunchy guitars come in, and the song splinter into a dizzying grinding circus gone haywire sort of psychedelic freakout, finally slipping back into something much more tranquil and soft and poppy.
At their core, these guys (and gals) are definitely a pop band, but their tendencies definitely lean toward something much more avant and out. Jangly, shimmery, poppy, and folky for sure, in fact, this is most definitely 'dark folke', but it's informed by much more than just folk music. Dramatic strings sing and soar, ethereal female vocals drift over spidery strum and buzz, strange bits of shortwave interference, reverbed piano plinks, all draped over the band's lush dark folky almost chamber pop, so dreamy and divine.
Did we mention the packaging? WOW. A 7" x 7" black clothbound hardcover book. The front and back printed in metallic silver ink, inside 14 pages of lyrics and Justin Bartlett's gorgeously creepy pen and ink drawings, like some nightmarish children's book, so over the top and deluxe, not sure how they manage to sell it for so cheap, needless to say, grab one quick before they realize they can't and the price goes way up, or more likely, they sell out!!
Second live record from this post-Sleep duo, this one a live recreation of their 2006 Conference Of The Birds album, recorded live in New York last year, giving most people their first earful of new drummer Emil Amos, courtesy of epic post rockers the Grails, replacing long time Om drummer Chris Hakius, who was also in Sleep with Om bassist and vocalist Al Cisneros.
The drum switch is pretty dramatic, where Hakius was a bruiser, who pounded his kit, Amos is much more refined and restrained, jazzier for sure, his parts busier and skittery than the Hakius' Conference originals.
"At Giza" is a low slow rumble, mantra like and haunting, doomy for sure, but more abstract than crushing, the bass rubbery and almost clean, unfurling slow motion grooves, the drums a stripped down shuffle, the vocals reverbed and clean and way up in the mix, everything hushed and hypnotic. It's not until nearly 3/4 of the way through that the distortion kicks in and the band let loose, and that Sleep pedigree becomes apparent. And while in some ways, Amos's drumming makes the sound less obviously 'heavy', it also pushed it in new, almost proggy directions, adding more complexity and counterpoint, and things get seriously frenzied and frenetic, with a distinctly Ruins-worthy coda.
The flip side, "Flight Of The Eagle", is not that far removed from the original, minus the slightly different drumming style, the sound is still plenty sludgy, droney, groovy, druggy, hypnotic and HEAVY.
Thick diecut jackets, the printed inside sleeve visible through the diecut, pressed on ultra heavy vinyl. And yeah, most definitely limited.
Adam Pacione's blissed ambience has quietly enthralled us over many years now; and he continues his relationship with the exceptional Elevator Bath label, who has issued this wondrous album through an ongoing series of picture discs that previously included work by Rick Reed, our own Jim Haynes, and Dale Lloyd (reviewed elsewhere on this list). Pacione claims a bunch of sources for Dobranoc, including guitar, field recordings, analogue synth, Moog filters, and shortwave radio. He seems intent on extracting particular, harmonious colors from each of those materials and working them into a monochromatic blur of softened dronescaping and hushed ambience. The faintest of half-melodies work through Pacione's stately compositions; and it's easy to become lost in these extended moments on Dobranoc. Throughout, Pacione streams a series of delicate textures that could be snow coming through the radio, or it could be a light shower of rain that settles behind much of Pacione's sustained tonal flutterings. No matter the source, the slight abrasions of these sounds act as a ghostly counterpoint to the purity that Pacione gets out of his drones. The resulting wanderings through his radiant soundfields have much of the sense of mystery that Zoviet France managed on Shadow Thief Of The Sun or that emerged from the more minimal explorations of Stars Of The Lid. The picture disc features two blurred macro-lens images sporting oversaturated colors abstracted through the lens; and these are suitable visuals to accompany Pacione's ethereal work. Limited to 268 copies.
Much like the Young Accuser 7" reviewed a couple lists back, It Feels So Good When I Stop is another Joe Pernice release related to his forthcoming novel. The Young Accuser 7" was a not-imaginary record, by the imaginary band in Pernice's novel, channeling a more rocking vibe than we're used to from him, but on It Feels So Good When I Stop, Pernice takes on a bunch of covers, forming what is essentially a soundtrack to his novel. Some of the tracks seem to be actually mentioned in the story (based on the handful of readings interspersed between the songs here), while others seem to just be songs that informed its writing or heck, that Pernice just digs.
Del Shannon, Sebadoh, Tom T. Hall, Allan Sherman, Todd Rundgren, Plush, Dream Syndicate, Sammy Johns and of course The Young Accuser. Pernice manages to make all the covers here sound like his own, his voice wispy and delicate, the instrumentation minimal, the song choice ideal for his style, Del Shannon's "Found A Little Baby" is one of the highlights, joined by the rest of the Pernice Brothers, if it wasn't a cover, we'd be proclaiming it one of the best Pernice / Pernice brothers tracks ever. The Sebadoh cover manages to make the original sound even slower and sadder. The instrumental version of one of the Young Accuser jams from the Sub Pop 7" is also pretty great (with the Pernice Brothers again), and Todd Rundgren's "Hello, It's Me" seems like it was written for Pernice, stripped down and gorgeously vulnerable.
Not sure if this has us wanting to read the novel necessarily, but it sure has us hankering for another Pernice Brothers record. Or how about a Scud Mountain Boys reunion! Regardless, a beautiful collection of songs for sure.
Upon first glancing at The Undead Shall Rise, we just assumed it was, ya know, another metal record. That all changed within the first two seconds or so, and before long we realized we were being confronted by one of the most bizarre metal records we've heard in some time, and nothing could really prepare us for the utter weirdness pouring out of this record's filthy grooves, so weird in fact, that we weren't even sure what speed the record was supposed to be played at (it's 33, we decided). Closer inspection revealed that this is, in fact, a concept record about... ZOMBIES!!! YES!!! Conveniently separated into two movements, Before (Side A) and After (Side B, duh), the album plays out like a nightmarish piece of cinematic horror. Filthy, molten guitars, subsonic doom bass, and the kind of vocals that make small children cower in absolute terror weave a story of the post-Zombie apocalypse, while, not surprisingly given the theme, Italian-inspired synths swirl about like an inescapable disease ready to take you straight to hell. The intense demon croaks (or zombie croaks, more appropriately) are just about as uncomfortable and vile as you could ever hope for, and the heaps of creepy ambience and the overall spaciousness of the recording help to add a truly disconcerting vibe. While much of the record plays out as an abject, lumbering doomscape, there are other moments that almost bring to mind Neil Young's soundtrack to Dead Man. Obviously for a record about zombies to succeed, it needs to recall a certain loneliness and sense of despair - check. The record makes you feel like you have lost all sense of control as the zombies fuck shit up and make existence generally unpleasant. So, if that's your idea of a good time, you may have just found your favorite new record.
Limited to an insane 250 units, each copy of The Undead Shall Rise also comes with a hand scrawled note covered in movie blood, conveying the narrator's last moments before everything goes to shit.
In a relatively short period of time, Ty Segall has developed a totally recognizable style of super blown out garage punk that we just can't seem to get enough of. And a lot of you must feel the same, cuz the records keep pouring out and selling like crazy.
So it was quite fitting that when we first played this in the store a customer immediately asked "So what Ty Segall project is this?" and he was right on, because even though the Perverts are even more in-the-red and fucked up and punk sounding than Segall's other records, it still has his immediately noticeable rad guitar playing and wild vocals all over it. We dig how Segall is following in the tradition of old school punk and the early days of vintage garage rock where folks would put out singles almost every month, and have a billion different side-projects. Lucky for us everything he's been doing is sounding so great so we say, go ahead and keep on being the hardest working man in blown out garage rock!
King Of Jeans? Not sure what that title is about exactly. Now, King Of PISSED would make a lot more sense! What with all the scuzz and scowl found on this loud, noisy record. Though the Pissed Jeans aren't always pissed, sometimes just more, like, bummed. As on the album's final cut, "Goodbye (Hair)", a song about going bald.
By the way, just thought of this, is there some sort of pun going on the band's name, could it be read Pissed Genes as well? Dunno.
Anyway, this album, the PA punk troupe's third (2nd for Sub Pop, where they definitely belong, in the tradition of shitkickers like Green River), is another good 'un. On it, they bring back more of the catchiness that caught our ears on their debut Shallow, while not sacrificing any of the ugliness and avant-rock anguish heard on Hope For Men. Nope, this new slab of heavy punk pounding is chock full of all the feedback guitar skree and vokill rants that Pissed Jeans always bring to the party, sounding partway between Tad and the Jesus Lizard. Of course Black Flag is also another obvious comparison! And like we said, a lot of this is catchy as fuck, that is if you can call choruses consisting of barely-human "bleeeargh!" catchy. Or all the spastic lurching n' doomed lumbering. We also like the spacey FX that pervade "She Is Science Fiction". Most songs are in the 2-3 minute range, though there's exceptions, like the seven and a half minute "Spent", a Melvins-y, My War style dirge.
For fans of the Flag and other '80s punk past, contemporary scuzzers Vee Dee, some of the more extreme of the current "shitgaze" crowd, and of course Pissed Jeans' previous output. Duh.
Man, it's about time this guy put something new out! Ha-Ha. We couldn't resist, but as anyone who has been paying any attention knows, Pollard has been putting out records almost every other day it feels like after he pulled the plug on the late great Guided By Voices. The post GBV records aren't all great, but they aren't all bad either. Most fall somewhere right in between, crammed with so many songs there's always bound to be a few classic Pollard winners, most often set amidst a whole bunch of less rememberable moments. More and more his songs have a very '70s era vibe (reminding us of The Who) and some of us thought this even ventures into Dire Straits or Peter Gabriel territory. Which makes sense when you think about it, because on classic rock radio of the future there better be lots of Robert Pollard in rotation. Bigtime Pollard fans/completists will want this, but not totally essential for everyone / anyone else.
AQ's summer of dub continues! You may have noticed that lately we've been dipping into the vaults, coming up with some pretty amazing classic reggae and dub records that we never had the chance to list before, and while they may not be new, we think they totally deserve attention and anyone who missed out on these before most definitely deserves another chance to lay their ears on these divine sounds.
Earlier this summer we gushed about some classic releases by Black Uhuru and Horace Andy, and this 1981 outing by the legendary Prince Far I ranks right up there when it comes to deep grooved free flowing dub. Cry Tuff Dub Encounter Chapter 3 leads off with Prince Far I's commanding outerspace vocals that make us imagine what it might have sounded like if Afrika Bambata cut a dub record inside Thunderdome. The rest of the album is mostly instrumental top notch dub with some female vocals sprinkled sparingly throughout, with the main focus remaining on all the weird textures, electronics, tape speed fuckery and just flat out delicious dubby delights! Cry Tuff Dub Encounter Chapter 3 sort of serves as this perfect bridge using the early roots of '70s dub as its foundation but pushing forward a new vision of the possibilities of dub. So damn good!
Who loves Coldwave? We Do! And we just got a handful of these 7" from Russian synth duo Private Entertainment. If you liked the female sung side of Cold Cave, Nini Raviolette, or Gina X Performance, then you should check out the icy shimmer of this Soviet male/female duo. On one track, they even remind us of "Me and My Rhythm Box" from the Liquid Sky soundtrack! So good!
For whatever reason, we've never reviewed a record by Jay Reatard, which considering the hype surrounding him these days is somewhat surprising, and even though we dug his old band the Lost Sounds quite a bit, we were never all that interested in his solo stuff.
We're kind of kicking ourselves now, cuz if this new one is anything to go on, this shit is SO up our alley. Frantic, jangly, propulsive, power pop. And, yeah, garage rarely enters into it, this is total old school power pop, big guitars, killer hooks, and Reatard's high whiney vocals that have always been perfect for this sort of pop.
If we had to draw a comparison, it would be the Buzzcocks and the Cardiacs. The classic punk pop smithery of the Buzzcocks, and the frenetic high vocal-ed, almost proggy spazzpop of the Cardiacs. And at its most frenzied and caffeinated Reatard reminds us of the Toy Dolls too. Which should give you a good idea of what this stuff sounds like.
The first three tracks are a pretty perfect 1-2-3 pop punch. The first single opens up the record, "It Ain't Gonna Save Me", a total jangle pogo punk pop jam, with a stripped down verse and a soaring anthemic chorus, and a cool angelic vocal bridge that is total Cardiacs. "Before I Was Caught" sounds like it came straight off some Rhino post punk compilation, total classic old school eighties new wave pop, with a hook to die for, and awesome chiming guitars. And finally "Man Of Steel", another very Cardiacs sounding jam, but with a cool woozy guitar part, and a robotic new wave verse, skittery drums, and yet another super catchy, ever ascending chorus. Thankfully, the rest of the record is just as great. Not a stinker in the bunch. And the more we listen, the more the later tracks begin to shine, one of those discs where every track is a possible favorite. Watch Me Fall is definitely one of our biggest surprises, we listen to it DAILY, and it has us backpedalling like crazy, tracking down and checking out all those other Reatard discs we passed by the first time around...
It's been a while. The last we heard from this veteran New Zealand indie rock downer pop band (formed around the nucleus of husband and wife duo Brian and Maryrose Crook) wasn't even a Renderers' album, it was 2008's excellent Renderizors disc Submarine, a droney collaboration with fellow, more experimental kiwis the Sandoz Lab Technicians. Before that, you have to go back a few years to the nineties for their albums on Flying Nun, Ajax, and Siltbreeze. Although, some of us here heard 'em in person not long ago, 'cause they played the AQ/WFMU SXSW showcase in Austin this spring, and also made it out to San Francisco not long after, on the way back to NZ.
Live, they were surprisingly heavy, offering amped-up psych-storms something like Bardo Pond. On record, they explore their quieter side too, but this does have plenty of electric psych action, rocking out on tracks like "Fu Man Chu" and "Feels Like Fun", numbers laced with feedback and distortion that would definitely find favor with fans of Neil Young (most of whom have never heard of The Renderers, unfortunately for them). And by the end of the nearly nine minute "Harvesting The Sea", total mayhem erupts, Hawkwind-y electronics doing battle with billowing guitar noise, a la Comets On Fire. Their psych proclivities are also heard on the more hushed tracks like "Sargasso Sea", which finds The Renderers meandering into the blackness and bleakness inhabited by Japanese acts like Suishou No Fune.
Monsters And Miasmas is an album that mixes weary country/folk balladeering with reverby underground rock and roll, providing not just a dark vibe but also honest to gosh memorable melodic songs. Brian Crook's vocals are slightly nasal and remind us of Bob Dylan or Tom Petty just a bit, while Maryrose Crook's singing is sweeter but no less depressive in tone. When she does sound somewhat hopeful, it's still in regard to topics like how she'd prefer living at the bottom of the sea. Meanwhile, the first thing out of Brian Cook's mouth on this album are lyrics about falling into a very deep hole. This is definitely The Renderers we know and love.
Durch Die Wuste was the first solo outing by Hans-Joachim Roedelius of Cluster/Harmonia fame, and originally came out in 1978 on the always impeccable Sky label. Melding his tastes for classical composition, spaced out ambience, and electronic rock possibilities, this album found Roedelius simmering in warm rolling waves that just invite you to get lost and daydream in their subtly hypnotic pull. What's most amazing and compelling about this album is how organic it all sounds. Years before folks were really getting a grasp of how to intertwine traditional instrumentation with electronics, Roedelius was doing it masterfully. We're also so taken by the divine percussive quality that rises to the surfaces on lots of the album, especially the record's last two songs where Roedelius manages to play the drums himself and creates an amazing orbital groove that we could listen to forever. Durch Die Wuste manages to combine both his more dark and outsider tendencies with his ability to create the ultimate in shimmering cosmic bliss. We can't believe that some of us had never heard this record before, we are so beyond happy that it's been reissued as this stands up against any of Cluster's breathtaking moments. Highly recommended! Oh and for those of you who need/prefer to have this on cd it will be reissued in that format in August!
Awesome odds and ends collection from mighty lo-fi garage rocker, Ty Segall. Horn The Unicorn includes his first cassette which forecasted the fucked up brilliance to come, as well as the recent and way out of print Skin 7" which we never managed to get. Also within the grooves of Horn The Unicorn, you'll find Segall's songs from a split cassette with Superstitions, as well as a few tracks that have never appeared anywhere else before.
By this point you probably already know that when it comes to impassioned, stripped to its core and way in the red garage rock it just doesn't get a whole lot better or more exciting then Ty Segall. It's pretty awesome to see how hard Segall is working, playing shows in town almost every week solo or in one of his bands, and busting out new songs at the same ferocious speed without sacrificing quality. You might recognize a few of these tracks even if you didn't get to hear them in their original incarnations the first time around, as some of them have been re-recorded and reworked on both of Segall's proper albums. We have to say though, that we kind of love how those songs sound here in their original even more raw form. While this collection gives folks a chance to grab so many songs that have gone out of print, there's no saying how long this vinyl collection will stay in print itself so better act fast to avoid losing out again.
***Ariel Pink alert!!!!*** ***Total mind-fuck alert!!!***
Shits And Giggles is a brand new band that features Ariel Pink alongside the mutant sonic terrorists the Vas Deferens Organization. While everyone in the world seems to be biting on Ariel Pink's brand of outsider pop, recently, it's kind of awesome to see him take a total left turn and create a completely different, but equally warped sonic beast.
Shits And Giggles wander in a musical landscape that feels like it's being beamed over from a different galaxy. Collapsing fucked up jazzy rhythms melt into plunderphonic like excursions while taking turns into psychedelic funk and other worldly whatthefuckness. All totally insane yet somehow still so damn compelling and weirdly trance inducing. You can hear how records by Negativland, Nurse With Wound, John Oswald, Throbbing Gristle, Muslimgauze, Wicked Witch, Sublime Frequencies, etc. have seeped their way into Shits And Giggles' subconscious, and no doubt about it this is a uniquely distorted musical adventure. Vas Deferens Organization are some of the folks who run the totally awesome blog Mutant Sounds, so it's no surprise that they have found their own way to create some completely tripped out magic of their own. Even though it's nothing like an Ariel Pink album there are still moments, the production, specific sounds, certain melodies and phrases, that are still so recognizably Ariel Pink. A total must have for Ariel Pink fans and everyone else into the demented done right!
We've long been extolling the kick ass retro distorto pop virtues of SF's own Sic Alps. A series of awesome lps, 7"s, cassettes, all way too limited and gone in a flash.
Well the dudes at Animal Disguise have got your back, compiling almost all of those out of print goodies, here's a list: the Description Of The Harbor 12", the Strawberry Guillotine 7", the Semi-Streets 7", the Teenage Alps cassette, the Soft Tour In Rough Form 12", a track from the Hip Hop Shop Sweepers comp and one unreleased song. Whew! That's 26 tracks, in less than an hour, a joyous chunk of noisy, distortion drenched noisepop, lilting, falsetto vocals, detuned guitars, plink plonk piano, everything soaked in reverb and delay, gloriously ramshackle and DIY.
The disc opens with a Strapping Fieldhands cover (definitely one of Sic Alps' sonic forefathers) that begins all pretty and minor key and evolves into a super abstract field of high end ambience, random percussive clatter and feedback. From that point on, the disc offers up short and sharp track after track, acoustic guitars, woodblocks, maracas, shakers, simple drums, more piano, sing songy Lou Reed-ish vocals, super tinny electric guitar, blown out distortion, awesome druggy fuzz, woozy grooves, buzzy distorted old school garage rock, acid fried psych pop, and lots and lots of NOISE. It's no coincidence that Sic Alps shared members with other noisepop locals like Iran and the Coachwhips. Fans of those bands will definitely dig this stuff too.
Messy, chaotic, wild and wooly, rocking and weird, stripped down and distorted, fuzzy and noisy, what more could you want?
Sic Alps just keep getting better and better. This new jam "L. Mansion" is definitely one of our favorites so far. Cool and stripped down, acoustic guitar and shuffling drums, a killer vocal line, lots of 'woooooo's, a rad reverbed piano 'solo', sounds like an acoustic version of some classic post punk / new wave jam from the eighties. The flipside is a cover, of Donovan's "Superlungs My Supergirl". We were pretty much convinced that Terry Reid's version was UNTOUCHABLE, and while Sic Alps' take on this classic doesn't quite measure up, it's still plenty bad ass, and they definitely give it their own flavor, super distorted lo-fi guitars, big booming drums, pounded piano, softly crooned vocals, some wild psych leads, plenty of feedback, and all wrapped in an awesomely buzzy wall of sound production.
An abundance of Six Organs this week! Ben Chasny not only has this great new album out, but there's also a vinyl-only split 12" with Azul (aka his old pal L) on the Japanese psych label PSF we're reviewing too. The full-length record at hand, Luminous Night, is indeed a stunner, and more or less what we've come to expect from the reliable Mr. Chasny.
It opens with the orchestrated, slightly precious folk-prog of "Actaeon's Fall (Against The Hounds)", an all-instrumental intro to this delicate and dusty album, a track that's sad yet hopeful, with a Morricone-esque arrangement. The next song "Anesthesia" brings in Ben's hushed but strong singing, and that's how it goes here, folkish balladry (like ferinstance on "The Ballad Of Charley Harper", though there's plenty of drone n' distortion layered o'er that one, and elsewhere) interwoven with moody instrumentals, all of it with a Western Gothic meets Eastern Psych vibe. Next up, "Bar-Nasha" leans towards the Eastern side of the equation, a tapestry of fingerpicking, flute, and hand percussion, but Ben's vocals have all the melancholic solemnity of apocalyptic alt-country act Woven Hand, in fact, his deeper voiced singing here, as on this track, reminds us weirdly enough of someone from another Xtian band, vocalist Eric Wagner from classic doom metallers Trouble. (Who can be psychedelic sometimes, but not like this!).
Regarding the instrumentals, the longest track here, "The River Of Heaven", is a ritualistic ceremony like Japan's Ghost getting mopey, and "Cover Your Wounds With The Sky" is a lovely dense drone piece, sounding a lot like something from Steven R. Smith's latest record, Cities (yet to be reviewed by us, but really good, by the way).
We've mentioned almost all the tracks here, and rest assured that the others are quite nice too, making for a haunting Six Organs Of Admittance album that should satisfy his fans old and new. We figure most of you fall into the former camp, but anyone yet to experience this artist should give Luminous Night a listen and likely you'll become one of the latter.
One of two new records this list from long time aQ fave Ben Chasny, aka Six Organs Of Admittance. This one is super limited, maybe the first vinyl release we've gotten on godhead Japanese label PSF, and features one super dense abstract sidelong jam from Six Organs on one side, and a whole batch of groovy shimmery soft psych folk grooves on the B-side from a Japanese group called Azul. For those of you, who like us, had never hear of Azul, it's the new project of Hiroyuki Usui, who long time aQ list readers might remember as one half of the August Born, an earlier collaboration with Chasny, as well as being the man behind legendary folk psych outfit L, whose Holy Letters album was a past aQ Record Of The Week!
So here they are, Chasny and Usui, together again, each doing their own thing on their own side of this lp. Chasny's jam is a weird one. A sprawling slow burning drone, all crunchy and warm and gristly, over which muted guitar scrabble scrapes and skitters, melodies surface here and there, but they're minimal and murky, the whole sound is distant and abstract, a droney almost-raga, shot through with little tangles of fragmented Appalachia, eventually growing into something much more epic and cinematic, with what sounds like strings, Eastern sounding melodies, before a heavy psych coda, chunky super distorted riffs, weary, haunting double tracked vocals, all over a sea of swirls and squiggles, finally giving way to a weird warped riffy outro. Really cool.
The Azul side is WAY more laid back. Groovy, woozy, super sixties sounding, psychedelic, but soft and hazy and a little stoned sounding, hits of that classic Summer Of Love sound, a little Santana, lots of hand drums, warm tinkling vibes, soulful vocals, lazy late afternoon vocals, breezy and a little blissy, a few of the tracks inject a little jazziness, some skronky horns, fluttery flutes, shimmering gongs, but for the most part, it's all steel string guitars, draped over sun dappled arrangements and wreathed in fuzzy clouds of soft focus psych.
Gorgeous packaging. Blue and yellow psychedelic drawings on the sleeve, bizarre characters and warped shapes, lots of texture and detail, wrapped in a printed vellum Japanese style obi. And as you might have guessed. EXTREMELY LIMITED.
Matthew Bower's growing obsession with black metal has gradually infiltrated the blown out guitar skree of his earlier recordings and continues to push the sound of modern Skullflower into realms blacker and more grim and gristly than ever. Much like the recently reviewed (but sadly now out of print) Vile Veil lp, word on the street was that Malediction was to be the "Skullflower black metal" record, which it could very well be, but you have to realize that no matter how much Darkthrone or Pyha or Old Wainds or Arckanum Bower listens too, those sounds get filtered through that mysterious mind, eventually coming out via his guitar as a sound not terribly removed from something recognizably Skullflower, but with enough blackness, enough buzzing riffage, enough cello (here transformed into howling moans and caustic shards of scrape and skree) and enough chaotic drum splatter, courtesy of original Skullflower drummer Stuart Dennison, to make this more than just another Skullflower record, and more than just another guitarnoise record, it transforms this wild cacophony into some transcendent blacknoise hybrid, equal parts ur-drone and black buzz, psychedelic freakout and free-noise experiment, a pulsing, throbbing swirl of abstract heaviness and in-the-red speaker damaging crunch, a sound that slips fluidly from total abstract atom scatter to lurching almost riffy mesmer, remaining always wreathed in a thick, corrosive field of upper register sonic static, only the drums, ever really leaping from the fray, to hurl some thunderous beats before being quickly sucked back under.
Not sure if it was that brief foray into almost seventies sounding riffiness, back circa the records Exquisite Fucking Boredom and Orange Canyon Mind, but ever since then, Bower and company have been making noise with a vengeance, the sound of Skullflower and fierce and fucked up and heavy and noisy as it's ever been, Bower's black metal interests only adding to the bands hellish sonic trajectory. That's not all to say black metallers would dig this, cuz odds are, only the most extreme music obsessives among the black legions would find this particular brand of psych-skree to their liking, but heck, those of you who do fit that profile, go for it, immerse yourself, and discover just what it is about Skullflower, just what sort of black ritualistic magic lurks within the caustic black sonic sun that is Malediction.
Noiseniks will no doubt flip their lids, appropriately so, but there's so much more to this 'noise', what seems like a wall of sound, crumbles into pieces revealing so much texture within, every heaving wave of punishing crunch, gradually parts revealing a delicate network of strange melodies, the sounds while on the surface seem easily defined, are in fact more complex then they might appear, guitars and drums and voices and cellos all careening chaotically into a roiling churning black sea, a bottomless sonic expanse that takes metal and sludge and doom and noise and punk rock and minimal drone music and melts it down, shaping it into something new and mysterious, a baffling, deafening sound that defies any sort of classification, as the title of an old SF record so boldly proclaimed. This is Skullflower. And THIS, is Skullflower NOW.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES. Packaged in a six panel full color digipak with cool tripped out watercolor artwork by Bower himself.
Attention British Horror fans! We have here, released by a new a label run by one of the guys from sampling groop Quiet Village, two previously unreleased soundtracks on one lp from New Wave of British Horror director Norman J. Warren: Terror (1979) and Prey (1978). Warren, best known for three horror movies he made in the late seventies (the first one was Satan's Slave), had a film style similar to Dario Argento, highly explicit and gory supernatural thrillers filmed on a low budget with modern day settings and using younger actors, a sharp contrast to the classic period-set hammer films earlier in the decade. Composed by Ivor Slaney, an in-house composer for the DeWolfe Library, the music is deliciously creepy.
Terror sounds like a lost soundtrack by Goblin, beginning with proggy synths and organ dirges augmented by female vocal moans that are equally wistful and uh, well, terrifying! There are a couple of groovy interludes, one of them a short blues-rock number, the others more pensive, but the final tracks are full bore high-pitched synth drones that had the hairs on the back of our neck standing up on end! Also, an interesting piece of side trivia is that Terror stars Tricia Walsh, better known as Tricia Walsh-Smith, the you-tube sensation famous for videos berating her ex-husband to the general public!
Prey feels more like classic British horror scores, offering up at first soft and pastoral themes using harpsichord, organ and piano. From what we can gather from the sounds and the tagline (A Carnal Lust That Defies Earthly Expectation!) is that this is a rather twisted love story involving birds, as bird sounds emerge here and there. The lilting music soon turns to what sounds like a terrifying merry-go-round and then we get bits of sounds from the film itself of screams and flesh being ripped apart by massive bird-like creatures. There are a couple of party numbers, one a jazzy theme sung by someone who sounds like Caroline Peyton, the other by a lounge band, before the final twisted Moog dirge comes into play with snippets of doomy dialogue. Great creepy stuff!
NOTE: A cd version is coming out in a couple of weeks or so, for the vinyl-impaired! Meanwhile this lp is limited to 1000 copies.
Soror Dolorosa is a band that will confound many of those trolling the internet for any number of '80s deathrock / darkwave obscurities. You could easily slip Soror Dolorosa - with its Goth name, its monochromatic artwork, the theatrical vocals, the rhythmic savagery - next to the likes of Christian Death, Specimen, The March Violets, and The Virgin Prunes, and none would be the wiser. Of all the '80s references to make, Clair Obscure (while very well, obscure) is probably the closest, if that French band had been much better in grafting songs to match the ritualistic deathrock throb.
The biggest surprise here might not in fact be that this is new and not some archival eighties lost gem, but that it is in fact the project of Nuit Noire drummer Andy Julia, who has also played in Peste Noire, Mutiilation and other grim black combos. None of which would at all prepare you for the glorious cold wave miserablism found here, Julia has such a distinctive croon, and the band conjure up such an amazing batcave new wave gloom, it sounds like it has to be from the eighties.
The guitars shimmer and chime, the bass is thick and throbbing, the drums are simple and propulsive, the sounds is spacious, lots of reverb and delay, but it's all about the vocals, a mournful dramatic croon, somewhere between Ian Curtis and Andrew Eldritch. In fact, this totally channels the spirit of the Sisters Of Mercy, as well as the Virgin Prunes, the Fields Of The Nephilim, the Cure all that awesomely epic gothic darkness we grew up on.
But as we know, it's easy to just emulate a sound, any band can sound like their favorite band of old, that phenomenon is responsible for at least several scenes and sounds. But that music, that classic sound, is as much about songs as it is about sounds. We often lament, that songwriting seems to have been supplanted by the mere act of being in a band, of making the right noises.
And it's in that way that Soror Dolorosa stand out from all the other cold wave wannabes, they write amazing songs, filled with incredible melodies, hooks galore, the basslines as memorable as the vocal lines, dramatic, intense, personal, emotional, the vocals oozing with pathos, the songs themselves rife with parts and pieces that are incredibly catchy, when the vocals drop out, you're still hearing them in your head, you find yourself humming along to the bass, or slipping away from the vocals and getting lost in the shimmering reverbed riffage.
The whole record is fantastic, but opener "Beau Suicide" is maybe one of our favorite cold wave jams ever, past or present, so dark and driving, with a main riff to die for (the sort of riff Interpol has spent their whole career trying to come up with), a cool jagged angular guitar freakout midway through, an incredible and impossibly melodic bassline, and one of the coolest, most intense, and unforgettable vocal lines, so good. Just this track gets played so much in the store it's beginning to feel like the aQ theme song. Then there's the nearly 12 minute closing track "American Chronicle", a lilting, super dramatic gloom pop epic, with long stretches of dour drift, the guitar unfurling gorgeous echoey melodies, the vocals more emotional and anguished than anywhere on the record, which is strange, since the music is perhaps the prettiest and most melodic.
Needless to say, absolutely required listening for folks who like their pop gloomy, their eighties revivalists depressive and dark, and who count any of the above mentioned bands in their personal pantheon. And while we love the current revival of lo-fi new wave goth garage pop, Cold Cave, Blank Dogs, Gary War, Zola Jesus, etc... Soror Dolorosa has supplanted them all and now seems to be the record we can NOT stop listening to.
What more to say? A new Spoon record! Sure it may only be 4 songs (not 3 like it says on the sleeve), but heck, how long has it been since we've had some new Spoon? Far too long. And "Got Nuffin" is just what we've all been hankering for, nothing super new, no sonic reinvention, but then who wants that, it's just another killer brooding, chugging chunk of moody indie rock, a sound that few other modern rock bands can even come close to. Lots of fuzzy bass, minimal piano plink, some cool effected guitar, and Britt Daniel's unmistakable croon. Catchy and kick ass, sounds like it could have come right off any of their last few full lengths.
The other three tracks are all over the map. "Tweakers" is some cool abstract piano and drum experiment. Just a looping drum jam, super muddy and muted, with the occasional bit of electronic crunch, or atonal piano pound, even a little bit of drone-y high end, but it's mostly just the drums, and it's kinda cool. Leads right into "Stroke Their Brains", a shuffling slow burner, all fuzzy jangle and skittery rhythm, minor key melodies, strange effected vocals, an awesome Daniel vocal part, and lots of woozy twang.
Then after a few minutes of silence is the "Tweakers" remix, which sounds almost exactly the same, slightly altered, the beat subtly effected, the song a bit chopped up and stuttery, really cool, but then for a brief moment, there's some rapping, yep, rapping, really goofy dorky distorted rapping. It's only for 30 seconds or so, and it somehow works, sort of, but we imagine there's a reason it's tucked away after the silence and is unlisted on the sleeve. Maybe that track's for Spoon freeks only, but the rest of this way too brief ep definitely has us chomping at the bit for a new full length!
Some of you may laugh at the mention of an "Australian sound" in music, but when you take a look at the continent's musical output since the '60s, it's pretty clear that after taking cues from the rest of the world and putting their own spin on things, Australians have no doubt arrived at a pretty unique and insular sound, especially in the metal department. You have dISEMBOWELMENT, Portal, Grey Daturas, Halo, Vorak, Paramecium, and then the bands represented on this asskicking split full length, a reissue of a cd from way back in 1999: StarGazer and Invocation (featuring members who went on to play in the aforementioned Portal). Both bands whip up a frenzy of blackened death metal that is mindbogglingly technical and totally fucked, but never too weird for its own good, and it's hard to imagine any self-respecting metalhead not losing it over this split.
StarGazer start things off with their strangely esoteric blend of black and death metal. The music and "lyrix" to their side of the split date back to the early '90s, giving the band some years to flesh out their evil ideas into songs that sound, at times, IMPOSSIBLE. The guitars are thick and burly as fuck, the bass is dirty and distorted, and man do the drums sound great - no triggers here, just a dude who obviously knows his way around a drumkit. Super distorted punkish guitars, insane blasts and phlegmy growls all merge into a thick stew of relentlessly concentrated EVIL that also rocks pretty damn hard. The intense riffs and song structures here are pretty much incomprehensible, and if you needed any proof that there's more going on here than your average metal band, just listen to the "Outroduction" that concludes StarGazer's side, a melancholy, spacey ambient piece played in reverse. Killer stuff here.
Next up is Invocation's contribution, accompanied by the information that "Invocation has no political/racial views, WE HATE ALL LIFE!!!" Nice. The band, three dudes with crazy looks in their eyes and the intent to kill, definitely deliver the goods. Not quite as bizarre as Portal, Invocation nonetheless create insane blasts of avant garde death metal with tons of weird changes and totally skewed instrumentation that you might expect to find on a prog record. Not that you will be mistaking Invocation for Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, as the thrashing intensity and ridiculously tight playing will throttle you violently and put you in the shithouse with your neighbors for sure. Best of all is how "real" it all sounds, with guys who certainly know what it takes to ascend to the next level of metallic awesomeness without the need to succumb to any overproduced bullshit. Oh, and for the curious, H.A.S.T.U.R stands for "Horrific Ancient Sumerian Traditional Usurpurs [sic] Remembered". Something we can definitely get behind.
We can thank the folks at the awesomely named Bird Of Ill Omen Recordings for rescuing this one from the darkened vaults of time and unleashing it upon an unsuspecting world ten years after the fact. HAIL!
Oh how we love Sylvester! Nobody really represented the true San Francisco spirit better. After moving to SF from Los Angeles in the late '60s he found true liberation in the gender bending thriving queer arts community here in the city, becoming a member of the legendary Cockettes, singing backup for an early and awesome incarnation of the Pointer Sisters as well as putting out two records with his Hot Band several years before he would become the disco diva most of us remember.
Blue Thumb Collection compiles Sylvester's earliest two releases. His self titled album with his Hot Band (also known as Scratch & Sniff, as the original lp had a scratch and sniff sticker on it) and then Bazaar, both of which came out on Blue Thumb, a '70s imprint that put out records by Captain Beefheart, T Rex, Robbie Basho, Jimmy Smith, Dave Mason, etc.
Sylvester's Hot Band were complete opposites to Sylvester, all straight white rocker dudes with long hair, which must have made the spectacle of Sylvester fronting that band even more amazing and confusing. During this era they were often put on really bizarre bills including an opening slot for Lynyrd Skynrd whose fans had no idea what to make of Sylvester (we would have paid to see their confused faces!).
The music Sylvester & The Hot Band made was very much based in rock and roll and classic rhythm and blues. The albums were packed with covers of songs by everyone from Billie Holiday, Ray Charles, James Taylor, Otis Redding, Grahm Parsons, Neil Young, etc. It's the cover of Neil Young's "Southern Man" that truly steals the show, sounding as poignant and impassioned as ever, yet taking on even greater meaning with a queer black man making the song his own. The two bonus tracks include one of our favorite Sylvester songs ever, a track he wrote called "Why Was I Born" which had been quite impossible to track down unless you were able to find a copy of the obscure compilation called Lights Out San Francisco that Blue Thumb put out in the early '70s. It's a song that really showcases the depth and range of emotion that Sylvester could reach in his music, and it's hard not to think of it as the blueprint for Antony & The Johnsons. These records were very much of their time, and it's not all great and with Sylvester consistency was never his strong suit, but it was all about those moments when he shined so bright that made the not so hot moments totally ok and worth it. Essential for Sylvester fans, we're really happy these records have been reissued, now it's time for someone to reissue our favorite Sylvester album, Stars!
France's Norma Evangelium Diaboli has always been one of the labels to turn to for some of the best black metal the world has to offer. Since pretty much forever, we have championed the pure evil promoted by Deathspell Omega, Katharsis, Watain, and Funeral Mist, but somehow Teitanblood managed to slip under the radar, and it wasn't until the dudes in YOB strolled in and told us to check this stuff out that we realized it was time to get on track. Based in Spain, but featuring the talents of a couple of Swedes, one of whom spent some time in Ofermod, Teitanblood plays a super punked out style of blackened death metal that few other bands could pull off with such perfection. Just looking at Seven Chalices' artwork, which brings to mind a crusty Xeroxed punk approach crossed with medieval woodcuts, will give you a pretty good indication of what's in store. From the band's logo to the face of the cd itself - complete with that "compact disc" icon - Teitanblood deliver the goods with a decidedly late '80s/early '90s bent, but thankfully without any trace of retro fetishism. The guitars are thick and downtuned, recalling the tone captured on Entombed's Left Hand Path - you know, some of the greatest sounding death metal guitars EVER - the drums pound out ferocious, heavy as fuck D-Beats, and the vocals growl out hateful bile as they fly all over the mix. There are moments that bring to mind the early Earache roster with insane Greg Ginn inspired solos made up of equal parts pure chaos and total noise, and somehow the band manages to hit a psychedelic stride with its cosmic heaviness. Like other NED bands, they expertly utilize creepy samples of angelic choir voices that make the metal moments even more disconcerting and intense. There are plenty of sludged out dirges that make you think of thick black tar, but the band also understands the importance of a good thrashy groove. The only moments of rest seem to come with the interludes spaced throughout the album, but even these will make your skin crawl with their throbbing tension.
Basically, Teitanblood takes what you love about heavy music and makes good - real good - on it. With all the metal coming out these days, it's easy for this stuff to start sounding tired, but it makes all the difference in the world in the capable hands of some masters who know what's up. What you get is a dizzying blur of hate filled fury that is so heavy it sounds like it may collapse on itself. In other words, HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!!!
We highlighted the Lion Productions reissue of Nature, the (until now) sole album from way-cool, keyboard-heavy, progged-out krautrock obscurities Tetragon, just a few weeks ago, and now here's ANOTHER, entirely unreleased album from the same band unearthed by krautrock specialists Garden Of Delights! If anything, this one's even more badass. Recorded live in the studio towards the end of 1971 (just a few months after Nature came out), these five tracks here meant for release on LP at the time, but that never happened, the efforts of Tetragon's four very talented musicians never getting the exposure they deserved back in they day (heck even the album that they did manage to get released was done in a VERY small pressing). Well it was 1971, so record buyers were presumably a bit overwhelmed. Still, Nature and now Stretch are worthy of being part of the class of '71, a year we consider one of the best ever in the history of recorded music - particularly of the psych/prog/kraut variety.
Stretch is all-instrumental, the band members just goin' off, doin' their thing, which was virtuoso, jazz-fusion inflected prog influenced by Miles Davis, The Nice and ELP, various Canterbury bands... and especially here, British jazz-rock organist Brian Auger. There's lots of solo action, as well as much precision ensemble playing. With wild widdly Hammond organ jamming, acid rock fuzz guitar, a heavy backbeat, and tons of technical chops, this simply cooks.
Of the 5 tracks on Stretch, which, um, stretch over 43 minutes, Tetragon do two covers: "Listen Here" by Eddie Harris and "Dragon Song" by John McLaughlin. Though perhaps as far as Tetragon were concerned, they were Brian Auger covers, 'cause their hero had previously done both of these songs on albums of his own, and Tetragon were inspired by his arrangements. The Eddie Harris one in particular is super funky but fuzzed, a heavy groove with drum solo breakdown, well actually everybody gets a solo. Of the three originals, "Snowstorm" is actually smokin' hot, "The Light" a laidback wah'd out groove, and "Hovering Stones" the most proggy and changeable, ranging from frantic keyboard runs in lockstep with martial drumming to more blissed-out solo sections. If you liked that Supersister reissue we recently highlighted, we'd imagine you'd be into this too. Likewise of course if you dug the other, original Tetragon disc!
Garden Of Delights reissue cds are even more exhaustive than Lion's, this includes uber-detailed liner notes in both English and German, plus vintage photos, and even the cover art from every single recording that the members of Tetragon were ever later associated with, including jazz-rockers Passport and folksters Falkenstein.
We're always wary of electronic compilations, for some reason, not sure if it's just an oversight or if they are meant to be super academic, but there seems to be no attention to flow. No consideration of what it might be like as a listening experience. You'll have 3 or 4 super quiet drone tracks, then a screaming grinding wall of noise, then a whispery hushed drift. In some ways it makes it practically unlistenable. Not that those records aren't worth owning, but they require special listening, a track at a time, thus, the listener is not lulled into a droney hypnotic state before being blasted out of his or her headphones.
So we were even more wary of this massive FOUR disc collection of experimental music from China (as well as Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore and Malaysia), we knew it would be amazing, and most definitely an incredible sampling of sounds, but the difference between that, and a well sequenced collection of songs is the difference between pulling a record out every once in a while, and listening to hours and hours of sounds and getting immersed and lost in the sounds. We're happy to report, that this collection, surprisingly, falls into the later category. The first disc alone is nearly perfect, an incredible collection of deep dronemusic, thick and textured and varied and mysterious, rich and layered and lush, dark and haunting, from thick rumbling buzz, to barely audible sine waves, muted thumps and abstract rhythms, post industrial soundscapes of tangled tones and warm washed out whirs, to glitchy skittery Raster-Noton style minimalism, to warm blissed out almost new age-y drift, to squiggly seas of shimmery tones and buried glitches, to super abstract, ultra spare electronic hum, to clouds of insectoid like buzz, to warm wall of sound thrum, there are moments where the sounds grow jagged and sharp, caustic and corrosive, but the whole disc flows like a composed, tripped out minimal glitch space drone record, and there are three more discs!
The other discs are similarly grouped so that the flow is as much a part of the sound as the individual songs, although the focus shifts, where the first disc was more droney, the second disc seems to be more songy. There's still plenty of glitch and hum, but there's lots of real instruments, some proper bands, lots of electronic skitter, some serious noise, and lost of sonic weirdness. And so it goes.
There's LOTS to get into here. We've listened to the first disc a whole bunch of times, the second one a handful, the 3rd and 4th once or twice, and we're still discovering and exploring, but we do find ourselves not just skipping song to song, but throwing this on, laying back, and listening to whole discs, which again is so rare for this sort of compilation. Really amazing stuff. Really recommended.
Packaged in a fancy full color fold out digipak, with a booklet and minimal liner notes.
It's been a while, but finally, the return of Frequency Thirteen, and TRUE SHEFFIELD BLACK PSYCHEDELIA!! Yep, in the past we've championed killer discs from Black Vomit, Ice Bound Majesty, Trolskull, Dukkha and Rape Rack, all offering up a truly twisted take on blackened heaviness, and ever since we've been dying to hear more, so this pretty much hits the spot, a massive sprawling double disc compilation, featuring tracks from most of the Frequency Thirteen roster, and as far as we know, all the tracks here are EXCLUSIVE. So if you're already a fan, and snap up F13 cd-r's whenever you see them, then you obviously need this, exclusive new music from Skultroll, Dukkha and Ice Bound Majesty, as well as a whole mess of others.
But for those new to Frequency Thirteen, it's tough to imagine a better introduction to True Sheffield Black Psychedelia. Which is a bit of a misnomer, as much of this is not from Sheffield, much of this is not necessarily black, although it's ALL psychedelic, and it's all TROOOOOOO.
Beadle, who we had never heard of before, open up the first disc with a crushing chunk of looped riffage that reminds us of a more blackened Gore, a lurching, lumbering, hypnotic crush. Which perfectly gives way to a new Dukkha jam, that sounds like classic nineties style noise rock, heavy and crunchy and weirdly melodic, with some awesomely twisted melodies and arrangements, and some wild freaked out guitaring. Brobdingnagian who you might remember from their ep on Rusty Axe spews out some noise drenched black filth, like some sort of Ildjarn Merzbow mash up. And so it goes, the whole disc a twisted, convoluted, buzzy, blasting, psychedelic sonic travelogue, with some surprises along the way. Trolskull, slow things down with their murky heroin house minimalism, buried voices, a muted pulse, swirling swaths of synth. Ice Bound Majesty offer up their fiercest filthiest blow out yet, furious and frantic, doused in effects, with programmed drums so fast it almost sounds like a chest rattling drone. Charles Dexter Ward crafts a weird sort of Dan Higgs sounding bit of ritualistic sea shanty style guitar drone, albeit crunchy and distorted, and War Ethic does some weird super murky grindy thrash, but with some skittery almost jazzy sound blastbeats, and there's more more more more. And that's just the first disc!
The second disc starts out with some super minimal sinewave shimmer courtesy of a band called Syn, before Dukkha kick shit into gear with the most awesome hypnotic looped psych jam, that would make Circle or Cave proud. In fact, it sort of sounds like a mix of the two, but with a bit more metal drumming, and some convoluted tangled arrangements, but always slipping back into super mesmerizing hypno-rock. KPTMichigan unfurl some gorgeous hazy woozy Tim Hecker like gauzy dronemusic, while Scum Also Rises (awesome name) so some strange post industrial mathy groove rock, that sounds WAY better than that description makes it sound, fat fuzzy bass, weird skittery electronics, all fuzzy and blown out. Sluglord stir up some sort of unholy blackened orchestral doom, all dense tones and deep shimmers, and the Disobedients do a sort of super minimal bedroom doom pop, and Trolskull return with some murky abstract rhythmic weirdness, that sounds a bit like a less loose Avarus, a bit more sinister and haunting and a bit krautrock too. And of course again here, there's more more more!
Easily one of our favorite labels, with a roster that should make most other labels bow their heads in shame. And this is definitely one of the few comps where you literally want to hear more from every single band. Fancy packaging too, a fold out die cut full color sleeve, jam packed with about a million inserts, liner notes, an obi... hell, just buy it, you won't be sorry. And odds are, like us, soon you too will find yourself obsessed with TRUE SHEFFIELD BLACK PSYCHEDELIA!!
For all the stereotypes about how serious and rigid German culture is, we love how so many compilations in recent years have revealed just the opposite, revealing how damn fun and playful so much of the music bursting out of Germany during the '60s and '70s really was. We're talking full on go-go kaleidoscopic cocktail party galore! Much in the spirit of like minded compilations like The In-Kraut series and Disco Deutchland, Funky Frauleins puts its fun focus on the colorful groovy, funky, and disco sounds of the beat queens of Germany from 1968-1978. Just as fun, sassy and spirited as their French go-go counterparts but very much in the '70s with instrumentation that would sound right at home on a game show, in a porno, or even especially at a full on dance party. We only knew a few of these ladies: Su Kramer, Hildegard Knef and Caterina Valente, so we were introduced to a bunch of other super fun vixens. The booklet offers up great photos and bios of all the artists. This is one of those turn off your brain and step into a sweet and delicious cocktail haze kind of records. And we love it.
With the amazing resurgence and appreciation of the Disco era in the last several years this collection really serves as a kind of holy grail of the true sounds and soul of disco's heydey, as curated and mixed by one of the best disco minded DJ Collectives around, Horse Meat Disco out of the UK. They host legendary parties that channel that original free spirit of old school queer disco parties while manning the decks with some of the best and often most obscure disco gems from the golden era. Luckily Horse Meat Disco has made its way into the states and even to San Francisco, playing at parties with local kindred spirits Honey Sound System.
This two disc set is pretty much essential disco listening, having true disco diggers do the hard work for you and then you just get to sit back (or better yet shake your thang!) to the great jams they have unearthed. The first disc is a continuous mix which gives you a pretty good idea of what going to a Horse Meat Disco party would feel like, then the second disc gives you the songs in their original incarnation. There are some folks we know and love on here as well as many that are totally new to us. And even of the folks we DID know , most of the tracks aren't the total obvious ones we had heard before. Karen Young, Larry Levan, Tamiko Jones, Gino Soccio, Fern Kinney, etc. The impassioned liner notes (including a great piece written by Daniel Wang), give further proof to the lasting legacy and inspiration in these soulful disco sounds.
Lock grooves are so cool. There are records that unwind into that perfect final moment, and then that moment is so seamlessly looped and locked, that you end up listening to it for ages before you realize that it would in fact go on for EVER. Then there's the lock grooves in the middle of songs, placed there by sonic terrorists looking to subvert the listening experience, turning their songs into sonic minefields, or obstacle courses (Billy Bao, being the most recent culprit). But there is an art to the lock groove, that brief couple seconds as the ultimate micro-composition. The musical version of Flash Fiction. Just enough time to whip up a tiny fragment, not enough to be called a song, just a SOUND, and then crafting it just so, so it plays over and over, seamlessly, sometimes blasting endlessly, sometimes locking into a stuttering rhythm. But there's the problem of what kind of person pulls out a record of lock grooves and sits back, and listens to the same 2 seconds over and over and over. Records like that either require some sort of zen bliss out, or they require active listening, constantly lifting the needle and placing it in the different grooves, sampling all the various micro-tracks. As you might imagine, we're pretty into records like this, and while it's true, they're not easy listening by any stretch of the imagination, they do offer up a strange window into sound, and music making, and in the case of this the second RRR lock groove disc, into the various permutations of NOISE.
Whereas RRR-500, now out of print, had 500 artists each offering up on groove each, RRR-1000, takes 20 artists, and let's each one deliver FIFTY grooves each. THAT'S ONE THOUSAND LOCK GROOVES ON ONE LP!! The one benefit here, is that the grooves are gathered in little bunches, which makes it easier to hear the specific artist you're looking for, although good luck finding the same track in less than 10 or 20 tries. Needless to say, this is a killer record, for folks into weird sound, and fucked up musical objects. It almost doesn't matter who's on here, but a quick glance at the artists will give you a rough idea of what you're in for: Otomo Yoshihide, Keith Fullerton Whitman, C. Spence Yeh, Prurient, Kevin Drumm, Incapacitants, Francisco Lopez, Runzelstirn & Gurgelstock, Sudden Infant, Damion Romero, RLW, Jerome Noetinger, The New Blockaders, Lasse Marhaug, Jason Lescalleet, GZ Jupitter-Larsen, Carlos Giffoni, AMK, Thomas Dimuzio and Aaron Dilloway.
And sonically, while it does tend toward the noisy, there are some amazing bits of minimal drone, lurching rhythmic stutter, garbled vocal weirdness, grinding noxious buzz, warm whirring crunch and about every variation in between. And in our hop scotching across these 1000 tracks, we found ourselves lingering happily on a whole bunch of em.
Cool hand made covers, photocopies, found images, bits from magazines, and lots of duct tape!
All you Mississippi Records fanatics should just stop reading now and click on the ADD TO CART button, because there's just no question that you are going to want, nay NEED this! Baltimore-based record store owner and record collector Ian Nagoski (who also compiled the excellent Black Mirror compilation for Dust-To-Digital) has put together another stunning collection of vintage 78 recordings from around the globe spanning between 1918-1952: Tanbur improvisations from Turkey, Vietnamese classical chamber music, Greek cabaret, Jamaican rural folk, Serbian dance, Spanish prayer song, Romanian Jewish mourning song, Italian opera, Highland Music of West Java; Arab classical music, Zuni Indian harvest chants, Ukrainian Hutzel music, Hindustani classical singing and Armenian folk music. Whew! It's a whirlwind tour of the world in beautiful, lonely and sometimes devastating bursts, colliding folk and popular styles, upper and lower classes, the famous and the obscure in a captivating melange of audio wonder. And apparently, there's more to come as this release also marks the debut of Nagoski's Canary Records imprint dedicated to International musical obscurities and the stories that hide within. Extensive liner notes with pictures included. Amazing!!
Another killer collection of Kompakt techno, and while we may tend to lean toward the Pop Ambient side of the Kompakt roster, no label has done more to wear down our resistance to techno than the mighty Kompakt, so much so, that we now find ourselves looking forward to these Total comps nearly as much as the Pop Ambient comps.
And once again, Kompakt comes through with, a killer collection of artists, and tracks, expertly sequenced into over two hours of minimal techno bliss.
Just have a look at the names and you'll know what you're in for: Dj Koze, Justus Kohncke, Gui Boratto, Matias Aguayo, The Field, Burger/Voigt, Reinhard Voigt, Jurgen Paape and loads more, and along with the usual tight clipped, late night dancefloor grooves there are plenty of surprises. How about DJ Koze's "40 Love", with a rhythm track built around the sounds of a tennis match, including the crowds disappointed "Awwwww"s when someone misses a shot, birds chirping, squeaking shoes, grunts, all woven into a woozy bit of warm throb and skitter. Then there's Coma's awesomely murky midnight pulse and shimmer, and Jonas Bering's super fuzzed out synth jam that definitely reminds us of Justice or Daft Punk, and Matias Aguayo's sunshiney techno pop jam, that almost sounds like Phoenix or something, the warped and tweaked tropical wooziness of the Pachanga Boys and the circusy soundtrack weirdness of Jurgen Paape's oompah jam "Ofterschwang", and in between, plenty of that classic Kompakt sound that we can never seem to get enough of.
If you've got 1-9, you obviously need 10, and if you've yet to dip your toes into the Kompakt pool, this is as good a place to start as any...
First cd release from this new-ish label specializing in that sort of woozy lo-fi pop sound that seems to be sweeping the nation, aQ included. Anyone into Blank Dogs, John Maus, Ariel Pink, Ducktails, Zola Jesus, Gary War, as well as other garage-y pop rockers like Oh Sees, the Intelligence, Ganglians, etc., will find that this awesome, bargain priced comp will probably hit the spot big time.
A few names we know, Ducktails, Julian Lynch, but a WHOLE bunch we don't (ahem, Frat Dad), but everything here taps into that same sort of DIY, broken 4-track, warped and twisted pop aesthetic that drives the above mentioned fave.
Frat Dad for instance, besides having the WORST band name, and the WORST song title ("Brosef") comes up with some cool reverby garage pop that would sound right at home between your Ty Segall record and your Oh Sees record. Pill Wonder are cool too, their songs sounding like Guided By Voices covering Beach Boys, all squiggly feed back and blown out bass wrapped around skittery drums and jangly guitars, and buried sort of lush harmonies. Real Estate are more songy, employing som reverb and delay, but for the most part relying less on texture and production, offering up two really nice twangy jams, one sort of rocking, one laid back and sort of Morricone-esque. Julian Lynch, a sometime collaborator with many aQ pop faves, has recently surfaced as an artist in his own right, and his tracks here are cool too, the Ducktails-ish calypso tropical pop of "Banana Jam Pt. 1" and the fuzzy loping indie dirge of "Droplet On A Hot Stone", with its distorted vocals and stumbling drums, wheezing synths, and murky ambience. It's all pretty good. Especially for all you who have been digging this particular sound lately, which we know is a LOT of you. Also included here are jams by Broken Trees, Liam The Younger, Andrew Cedermark, Family Portrait, Dana Jewell and Sad City.
A steal at $5!
It takes a lot to be "controversial" these days, even if you are a black metal band, and it's unlikely at this point that we would have to be the ones to tell you about all the craziness that has shrouded Velvet Cacoon since God knows when, so we're just not going to bother. What we can tell you is this: Atropine actually does exist, we got it, and while it may not be exactly what anyone was prepared for, it is no doubt an intense piece of work, one that cannot be listened to as mere background noise and instead requires lots of focus and patience for the full, um, "experience". The biggest surprise here is the absolute, 100 percent absence of any actual metal, with Velvet Cacoon's droning ambient side taking over for a colossal two hour suite of dissociative, druggy as fuck BLISS. Atropine's subtleties are also its greatest qualities (though to be fair, they are its only qualities), because this is only going to make even the slightest amount of sense if you stick around for the whole trip, and there's no way that will happen if you're blasting it in your car on the way to work. You're probably gonna want to turn off the lights, break out some sort of mind altering substance, close your eyes, let the tones take over, and contemplate your complete nothingness in the universe. It's difficult to imagine what exactly is influencing Velvet Cacoon (other than a whole lot of drugs), because this stuff is clearly coming from somewhere else, and whatever bullshit may or may not be true, at the end of the day it only really makes sense to judge them by their music, which is powerful and evocative in ways so many other bands will never achieve. Then you realize that the mysteries surrounding the duo are pretty much legitimized by the strangeness of their music alone.
"To find out how, insert." With these words printed on disc 1, we did just that, and we were off. Opener "Candlesmoke" kicks off the long journey, beginning with a low rumbling and semi-rhythmic white noise followed by a slowly creeping spectral ambience. Things are calm, but dark, and possibly a bit sinister. Your mind conjures thoughts perfectly captured in Velvet Cacoon's artwork: hazy images of lonely trees in unfathomable wildernesses, bits of nature peering out of grey expanses. It's hard to discern what instruments are actually making the noise, but none of that really matters, because before long it's like your floating in a mountain lake looking up at the stars. The piece is murky and majestic, and just as you begin to detect a pattern resembling an actual "song", things simply fade away into eternity. With "Funeral Noir," we were expecting Velvet Cacoon to rip our faces off like in the good old days, but nope. The song begins to bloom out of the cavernous ambience with static-y background crackles and super slow fuzzed out heaviness way off in the distance. The emphasis, however, is on the blankets of atmosphere, and though the song is pretty much formless, it manages to sound incredibly sad and evoke feelings of loneliness and separation from the world. "Graveside Sonnet," writhes with movement, but definitely not within the traditional methods of songcraft. Rather than trying to control the music and color it with any traces of human personality, the band instead appears to accept the will of its subconscious and let the song simply go where it will. The first disc closes with "Dreaming In A Hemlock Patch," which begins the first moments of its 37 minute (damn!) existence with almost total silence. Then, true to its title, you fall into a trance and journey deep into thought, as stuttering sounds, uh, stutter about, moving you forward and sending you way off into the atmosphere. A barely noticeable pulsing rhythm comes in around the six minute mark, but you are now totally lost and removed from time and location. And guess what? No one else exists. Crackling sounds continue, and a foggy drone takes over everything in its path. The song is a bit reminiscent of the minimalism of Wolfgang Voigt's Gas, but even more minimal. Even so, it's scope is massive and sleep inducing, and if for some reason you wanted to stop a 37 minute track, say, 20 minutes in, you can't, you can only accept it. The noises change shape and shift to other directions, and an undefinable but very psychedelic sound takes over, moving like a heartbeat before slipping away. Pretty cosmic stuff. And, holy fuck, that's only disc 1!
The second disc begins with "Nightvines," which perfectly exhibits Velvet Cacoon's ability to establish a sound that would best be described as "nautical." With a vaguely bell like drone and a sound that seems to emerge out of a thick mist, you get the feeling of drifting evenly along in unknown waters. A definite coldness prevails, and the sound has a quality that is almost like breathing. "Nocturnal Carriage" is the sound of being lost, its catatonic drones sounding like a ghostly choir buried deep under layers of fog. It brings to mind Popul Vuh's "Aguirre," only stripped of all its melodic definition with just the ambience intact. It's like that last moment of consciousness before sleep sets in, with that last moment being prolonged for 27 minutes, like walking around in total blackness, and it fades out like a dream that will continue forever. The shortest track, "Earth And Dark Petals," makes you think of forces from within the earth trying to make their way out of the ground and into the world, struggling to define themselves within the overwhelming hugeness of nature, only briefly before the final track, "Autumn Burial Victoria," which seeks to sustain the drones all the way to infinity. At around the 10:30 mark, there is a muted percussive crash, just once, but that's really the only other thing that manages to seep out. The album concludes very softly with sounds that are almost not there. When it ends, maybe you'll wake up, or maybe you won't.
Whew. Listening to Atropine, as in "really" listening to it, takes some dedication, but the results are rewarding enough for anyone up to the task. There will most likely be a serious bitchfest in the works from those expecting the blown out shoegazing fury Velvet Cacoon built their name on. But crying over something like that overlooks just how essential the more subdued sounds of Velvet Cacoon have been since the beginning, and in the event that it's not a total hoax, the band should be delivering an actual "metal" album in the near future. Until then, zone out and give yourself up to the unexplored regions of your mind with Atropine.
Archival recordings from the late great Vulpecula, an American black metal band (featuring members of Order From Chaos) who strove to combine 'space music' a la Steve Roach and Vangelis with black metal. The result might not live up to what one might hope for when faced with the possibility of some sort of ambient space black metal, but it's still pretty awesome. The "spaciness" comes mostly in the form of the track intros and outros, long swirling swaths of spaced out FX and whirring synths, as well as the occasional interlude of ambient shimmer, sometimes laced with wandering minor key guitar lines or weird samples and sound snippets. The core of their sound though was a more classic nineties blackened death metal, buzzing guitars, killer riffing, demonic vocals, but unlike a lot of those bands, Vulpecula had a definite prog vibe, strange extended song structures, lots of meandering melodies, extended melodic instrumental passages, strange sonic tangles and dense bursts of busy drumming, definitely shades of Opeth and Samael as well as some other distinctly less metal influences.
Probably the weirdest part of In Dusk Apparition is the cover of Peter Schilling's "Major Tom", beginning with that immediately memorable buzzing synth melody, before it's swallowed by thick growling chugging guitars, the vocals a whispery demonic ghostly rasp, draped over the strangely melancholy dirge. Lots of reverb, and a lot less melody, make Vulpecula's version sound more like a black shadow of the original, but within the rest of the disc it sounds perfect, more like an original referencing some classic melody, than an actual cover.
For folks who miss the sprawling death flecked blackness of the late nineties, a kick ass spaced out swirl of ambient black metal prog...
We ordered these from Australia over a year ago, and for whatever reason, we didn't end up getting them until just recently. The label is on indefinite hiatus now, and this disc is WAY out of print, thankfully we got nearly 50 of 'em, but those are the last copies EVER, and knowing how White Hills stuff sells around here, if you want one, best grab one quick.
One sprawling 16+ minute track, just White Hills main man Dave W. solo, echo guitar and synthesizers, unfurling a woozy, buzzy, softly undulating chunk of star speckled spacedrone, think Expo '70, Tangerine Dream, Zombi, Klaus Schulze, total blissed out planetarium lazer light show druggy kraut rock drift. Melodies unwind slowly through gently warped streaks of ominous whirring new age-y shimmer, and the whole track just seems to expand, to open up, like a time lapse vision of the death of a star or the birth of a universe, colors and streaks of white light swirl endlessly, creating delicate melodies, draped over a deep subsonic thrum, and delicate spidery whirring tendrils of crystalline sound, driven by a barely audible buried pulse like rhythm, blurred into a gauzy soft focus bit of divine cinematic space kraut drift.
Packaged in thick cardstock mini 3" sleeves, with a printed (band name, label info, liner notes) Japanese style obi.
And as mentioned above, SUPER LIMITED numbers of these in stock, and once they're gone, they are GONE.
Maybe it's the encroaching autumn, but lately we can't get enough of solo piano music. Especially when it's all minimal clusters of wistful passages, lilting progressions and sustained overtones. While this isn't a solo piano record per se, the liquid piano playing of Italian classical composer, Ludovico Einaudi, collaborating with electronic artists Robert and Ronald Lippok (To Rococo Rot, Tarwater), is at the heart of every track here. The group works fluidly together as a single unit (they recorded this live, together in one room) with the electronic nuances and occasional, but never overpowering, rhythms interlocking with Einaudi's playfully lyrical compositions. It's a lovely album that reminds us of the Rune Grammofon label's prettiest releases, and is fast becoming one of our favorite late night / early morning records. Highly Recommended!
On the cover, onetime popstar David Sylvian, who in an interview discusses his trajectory into ever-more avant garde creative territory. Also, this issue has pieces on Japanese field recordist Aki Onda, singer Julie Tippetts, dubstepper Joker, and SF's own Caroliner weirdos, among others. AQ fave William Basinski is tested in the Invisible Jukebox feature. And there's all the usual reviews, columns, charts, news, ads, and whatnot.
Sometimes it gets pretty overwhelming with all the black metal we get coming through these doors, not that we don't love it, but it can become easy to lose track of everything. Which of course makes it really awesome when something just blows you away and reminds you why you got into black metal in the first place. Britain's Wodensthrone happen to be one of those bands. Not that there's anything mindblowingly original about these guys, it's just that Loss is delivered with a sincerity, not to mention an expert musical prowess, that really makes this one stand out among the sea of bands currently making the rounds. Featuring members of Atavist and Winterfylleth and recalling the majestic approach of bands like Emperor, Enslaved, Weakling, and Wolves in the Throne Room, Wodensthrone would be a pretty good example to explain what black metal sounds like to the uninformed. "Epic" would definitely be the word to use here, and this actually caught us a bit off guard considering how many bands have been taking a more raw approach as of late.
Wodensthrone are one of those bands who will remind you that synthesizers can be used for more than creating Cradle of Filth styled ridiculousness, as the keyboards here are both cinematic and sprawling, adding essential atmospherics to make you aware of black metal's obsession with the natural world. While these elements could very easily suck in the wrong hands, here they fit perfectly in conjuring Britain's pagan past. The production on Loss is enormous, and it makes total sense that the band ventured to Romania to record with members of Negura Bunget at their studio. Like Negura Bunget, Wodensthrone expertly merge folk-inspired elements from the respective country with a gigantic metal sound. It's worth noting the pagan influence here, as the melodies and overall mood of the album appear to be a little more, shall we say "positive", when compared to the all out evil of satanic black metal. There seems to be a serious awareness of classic British folk with melancholy acoustic guitars, mandolins, and flutes all commanding a pretty significant presence here, even in moments of all out metallic fury, and it's really refreshing to hear this stuff done so well. Definitely a nice surprise here, and enough to ensure that Loss will be on seriously HEAVY rotation for quite some time.
For their latest collection of homebrewed electronic analogue filth, the boys in Wolf Eyes have decided to join the Hospital Productions roster, home of Prurient, Cold Cave, Ash Pool, Grey Wolves, Prurient, Kevin Drumm, Malkuth, and in some ways it's a perfect match. While all of that typically crusty and blown out Wolf Eyesian buzz and glitch and ruble and whir is all intact, Always Wrong actually displays a fairly significant shift, not just in sound, but in song writing. Unlike past efforts which tended toward the epic side long abstract noise jams, AW is practically a collection of songs, with vocals playing a much more significant part, sure they still offer up serious shards of skree and dense chunks of jagged buzz, but the manage as always to make their noise MORE than just noise, texture, timbre, mood, melody, and for the first time, SONGS.
The record opens with some electronic buzz and some muffled percussion, and right up front some snarled vox, spitting all kinds of venomous vitriol, over a strangely haunting glitchscape, before finally erupting into a clattery clangy Wolf Eyed Whitehouse jam. Tons of feedback, swooping electronic tones, clipped and stuttery chunks of buzz and squeal, all somehow woven into a lurching, stumbling malfunctioning industrial lumber. But it's the next track where things get really interesting, beginning with another high end squall, the streaks of skree get smoothed into haunting melodies, backing up a drawled gloomy almost Lou Reed sounding vocal, underneath it all a darkly gothic bassline, all murky and buzzy, some crunchy riffage popping up here and there, the whole thing a darkly swirling, but still crunchy and caustic, bit of coldwave, that should definitely please fans of the dark and morose, the brooding and black.
"Broke Order" sounds almost punk rock, crushing crumbling detuned crush, over grinding mechanical rhythms, dense clouds of blurred buzz, and yowled vokills, a lumbering lurching ultra heavy distortion drenched monstrosity, that again, manages to still be weirdly, if just barely, melodic.
The rest of the record drifts druggily between those different sounds, "Pretending Alive" is a slow crawl, of reverbed metallic percussion, jazzy horns, lots of layered amp buzz and tape hiss, spidery disembodied guitars, "We All Hate You", is another strangely post punk post industrial almost new wave sounding jam, more moody vox, heavily effected electronic beats, thick gritty textures, and woozy minor key melodies, finishing off with "Droll / Cut The Dog", starting our downright pretty, long form drones, deep resonant rumbles, tense minor key melodies, very creepy and cinematic, the buzz and glitch kept to a minimum, eventually shifting gears into another sort of industrial coldwave outro, all pounding minimal rhythm, sung spoken vocals, warm washes of washed out hiss, dense tangles of undulating drones, and as always, lots and lots of glorious blown out buzz.
