It's been a while since we've heard from Boris, mostly because they've seemingly been touring non stop for the last few years, but it looks like finally some new music is happening, including a forthcoming split with low end sludge popppers Torche, and this, another split with a Japanese band we've never heard of called 9DW, who as far as we can tell is sonically about as far removed from Boris as any band could be. A sort of eighties cosmic disco, like a way less edgier Justice maybe. More on those tracks in a second, since odds are most aQ customers will be all over this for the two brand new Boris tracks.
But be warned, not sure if it's a general shift in sound, or they were just trying to mix it up for this split, but this is Boris like you've never heard them. The first Boris track, "Tokyo Wonder Land", in a blind listening test, everyone here, when asked who they though it was, invariably said Ariel Pink, or John Maus, yep, a warbly warped blurry lo fi alien FM radio pop, with primitive drum machine, mumbled vocals, shimmery eighties production, whirring synths, jangly reverbed guitar, buzzy rubbery cop show basslines, super woozy and trippy and WAY druggy, there are even some falsetto 'oooh's. It only really gets Boris-y briefly in the middle with a wild tangle of super distorted psychedelic leads. Woah, What the fuck? Not sure what's going on, or what happened, but we are digging it BIG time, in fact, we might go so far as to say, this is one of our favorite Boris jams in ages, as is the second track here, "Akirame Flower", which finds Boris in full on washed out bleary eared nineties shoegaze mode, My Bloody Valentine, Bailter Space, fuzz guitar, weary vox, tons of delay and reverb and effects, all smeared and blurred into a gorgeous hazy 16 Candles / Dinosaur Jr / M83 soft focus, dream jam. Fuck. Awesome.
So what the heck are Boris doing with a band like 9DW? Can't say, and can't really say, how often we'll find ourselves listening to their two tracks, groovy, slightly jazzy, a little house-y, definitely eighties, not one guy, an actual band, sounds a bit like M83 if he were to do a techno record, stir in a little Justice stomp, some post rocky skittery, looped synths, and some total eighties MTV new romantic guitar jangle, a little Shadowfax and some worrisome funkiness...
But fuck it, Boris is why you're here, and if you're an adventurous Boris fan, who won't be disappointed by the lack of fuzzed out buzzy psych rock, then two Boris jams will kick your ass something good. Dying to hear if they continue on in this direction, and give the rest of the warbly new wave noise pop outsiders a run for their warped druggy money.
Debut release from this Bay Area horde, fucking killer, grinding, pummeling old school downtuned metallic crust, equal parts Celtic Frost, Anti Cimex, Cro-Mags and any other of the classic crushers.
Thick, super distorted ultra heavy guitars, pounding drums, and some of the sickest, gnarled bellowed vocals we've ever heard. The riffs destroy, there are even GUITAR SOLOS, which shred, the songs are mostly midtempo, weirdly groove here and there, even some awesome Iron Maiden style harmonized guitars, and always crazy catchy and heavy as fuck. We find ourselves listening to this over and over and over. Can't wait for the full length.
Super swank packaging, silver metallic foil printed on thick black and white sleeves, pressed on nice thick vinyl, and includes a printed insert.
Despite all the Acid- suffix and -Witch prefix bands out there (and vice versa for that matter), it appears that this is the very first band ever to use the name Acid Witch! And it really would have sucked if the name had already been taken, 'cause these guys are the PERFECT Acid Witch. Nobody could possibly do better justice to a moniker like that than this, um, coven.
Are they psychedelic? Yes. Are they metal? Yes. Are they creepy? Yes. Are they deathly? Yes. Are they doomy? Yes, yes, yes! Psychedelic drug doom death horror metal that cackles, wears a pointy hat, and flies on a broomstick. And, they have a sense of humor about it (hence song titles like "Witches Tits"), the same sense of humor -and- horror that gets us all into those cult '70s and '80s Italian fright flicks. Speaking of which, this album is amply laced with sinister, proggy Goblin-esque keyboards, draped over fuzzy chugging heaviness worthy of early Cathedral. Heavy, heavy doom riffs indeed abound, along with guttural grunting deeper-than-thou vokills, both of which manage to be fairly catchy as well, this album casting a spell of instant headbanging most definitely. Acid Witch's songs are furthermore infested with droning psych guitar soloing, weird electronics, witchy laughter, and spooky-ooky sound FX (is that a bubbling, boiling cauldron in there?) which makes this sound something like a "haunted Hawkwind" version of death/doom metal! Or let's say, take Acid Mothers Temple and Witchfinder General and mix them together (including the band names), then get 'em to play old school death a la Hellhammer. It's a bewitching, if totally gonzo, sound.
Further coolness: did we mention the main guy in the band is from Finland? And did you see the freaky EC Horror comics meets Cracked Magazine cover art? Which was done by Acid Witch member Shagrat (doubtless an Amon Duul II fan), who also provides a b&w portrait of the band done in the style of one of Witchfinder General's singles covers. Also, Witchtanic Hellucinations? Heck that's our review right there. These guys are brilliant (at least as much so as Electric Wizard and their "Satanic Rites Of Drugula" on Witchcult Today - hey maybe those two bands should go on tour and make black magic together!). Other bands that if you might like, probably means you should listen to this, include: Solar Anus, Coffins, Sigh (circa Imaginary Sonicscape), Moss, and Pan-Thy-Monium.
As soon as we heard 'em, we knew this was a definite AQ highlight. It took us a while to get more, our suppliers never had enough, but finally we contacted the label directly and got some, so here they are! Get 'em before they turn us all into (lysergic) toads.
Part two of Alva Noto's Xerrox series takes up right where the last one left off, continuing on in a much more buzzy, blissy, droney vein, way more textural and melodic than many of the AN records that have come before. In the review of volume one we mentioned Pop Ambient, and if anything volume 2 is even more washed out and shimmery, right out of the gate, AN offers up a warm wash of muted buzz, and thick gristly whir, softly pulsating, layered and warm, seemingly gone are the harsh tones and glitchy clicks and pops found on most Raster-Noton releases. Could be that Xerrox is just a concept record, but we have to say, as much as we loved the clipped minimalism of other Alva Noto records, the sounds here are quite divine. But this is an Alva Noto record, so even these warm whirls of drifting ambience, are laced with bits of static and hiss, super high end sine waves, but they're woven deftly into the sound, and serve to simply add more texture. There's a brief bit of super minimal beep and rumble, but then it's right back into that gorgeous drifty haze, that could just as soon be a Tim Hecker record.
"Xerrox Meta Phaser" follows suit, at least in the beginning, a soft whirring soundscape, that quickly escalates into an almost Sunn like dirge before exploding into a squall of blown out white noise. And then we're back to the dreamy dronemusic, this time, stretched out strings, smeared into soft summery swells, laced with a patina of gritty hiss, and so it goes, the whole record is a dark swirling expanse of muted minimal melodies, warm textures, mysterious drones, and delicate hazy drifts, the usual glitch and buzz, relegated to accents and filigree, rarely interfering in the rest of the record's blissy sprawl. Any one of these tracks would be right at home on the newest, more Kranky-fied Pop Ambient comp, and thus, this might be the first Raster-Noton record that might just appeal to all the drone and dirge folks as much as the glitch and pop people.
Like all R-N stuff, gorgeously designed and packaged, an oversized diecut, 8 panel sleeve, the cd nestled within the diecuts, the art spare and minimal and striking.
For the life of us, we can't figure out why The Apples In Stereo never reached the same great heights popularity wise as groups like The Shins or Arcade Fire, cuz when it comes to immaculately crafted indie pop gems it just doesn't get much more perfect then Apples In Stereo.
#1 Hits Explosion, as you might have been able to tell from the title, is a collection of Apples 'greatest hits', songs that in a more perfect world really would have been #1 hits on the radio, at least if we were in charge. These songs are so bright and full of sunshine and color, taking a love of The Beatles and amping it all up with so much energy and enthusiasm that it's nearly impossible not to become a a little bit smitten by their ultra smart and super fun power pop. Every song has more hooks and more melody than most bands can manage on an entire album.
If you've somehow managed to miss these guys so far, this is such a perfect way to get introduced to this awesome Colorado outfit who remain one of the lasting lights of the amazing Elephant Six collective, that also included the likes of Neutral Milk Hotel and Olivia Tremor Control.
When you want the feeling of eternal spring, or that perfect summer that lasts forever, Apples In Stereo is pretty much the perfect soundtrack. Blast it loud, with the top down, and soak in the sounds of sunshine!
Not entirely sure why we never reviewed the Arctic Monkeys' Favorite Worst Nightmare, considering how much we flipped for their debut Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, that second one was good too, but here we are at record number three, Humbug, and their sound has definitely taken a strange turn. It still sounds like THEM, but it's much darker, more brooding and crunchy, less kinetic and snotty and wild. Could be lots of things, musical maturity, regular maturity (after all they were all in their teens when they recorded that first record), lots of people are blaming Queens Of The Stone Age's Josh Homme, who handled most of the production, but maybe 'blaming' is the wrong word, cuz as far as we're concerned, there's no blame to be assigned, if anything Humbug is just a grower. On first listen, nothing stood out single wise, like the first record. But then "Crying Lightning" caught our ear big time, with its big drums and fuzzy bass, and spidery guitar lines, it only took a few listens and BANG, heavy rotation. And so it went with the rest of the record, track by track, blossoming into a new favorite, the sound definitely beefier, heavier, more crunchy, that we can give Homme some credit for, but as for everything else, blame the band, at least for making another killer record of super catchy crunchy new wavey post punk pop. Dig it!
Sounding something like a hybrid of Lustmord and Dopplereffekt, Trans Plutonian Transmissions is a long lost album from Brian Lustmord's one-album side project Arecibo, released back in 1994 through the Dark Vinyl imprint Atmosphere. This offshoot of its more seminal dark ambient / post-industrial main label was something of a conceit to the blossoming ambient techno scene of the early '90s, spiralling out of labels like Emit, Fax, and Reflective. Lustmord is best known for his quintessential dark ambient work of subterranean drones and deep space isolationism on the timeless and existentially bleak albums Heresy and The Place Where The Black Stars Hang. In fact, Trans Plutonian Transmissions was recorded about the same time as Black Stars, and draws from the same conceptual pool by sourcing the universe itself albeit to different ends. The dark matter and occluded hues of that album resound in Trans Plutonian Transmissions but with the major addition of stalking downtempo rhythms and acidic 303 basslines. Plenty of NASA communications with astronauts and reclaimed data from NASA research into pulsars, quasars, and black holes embue this album with paranoid aesthetic paralleling the X-Files; and those pointilistic squiggles and squelches dropped into minor key chords and judiciously bathed in blackening reverberation further those metaphors. The one Arecibo record had a few contemporaries, including the Patashnik album from Biosphere, the Pete Namlook / Richie Hawtin collaborations as From Within, as well as the early Pan Sonic and Mono Junk recordings of icey post-techno out of Finland, all from the mid '90s. The album is a product of its time, but is certainly no worse for the wear because of it. Lustmord's production touch is impeccable as always, lending that steely gaping quality to every sound, as if it were slowly getting injested by a galaxy crushing black hole. Recommended.
The funny thing about Banjo Or Freakout, is you'll find neither on their records. Okay, well maybe a -little- freakout. But mostly, BoFO traffic in some seriously buzzy, warm and warbly fuzz drenched indie folk noise pop, acoustic guitars, vocal harmonies, some almost programmed sounding drums, total power pop hooks, think Neutral Milk Hotel, the Comas, Apples In Stereo, but filtered through the new breed of pop deconstructionists like Ducktails, Thee Oh Sees and the like.
The A side is all jangle and buzz and croon and will totally hit the spot and fill that Neutral Milk Hotel shaped hole in your heart, the B side though is totally blown out, absolute woozy shoegazy bliss, everything looped and hypnotic and buried under a haze of guitars and buzzy effects. And then there's the trippy rhythmic closer, equal parts Avarus style tribal clatter and drum circle kraut jam and Animal Collective outsider pop bliss. This record rules. Need to hear more bad!!
San Francisco's dronelords Barn Owl (featuring our very own Jon!) return with Transfiguration, an awe inspiring slab of expansive psychedelia that is both heavy and beautiful. Recorded live on tour in Vancouver in summer 2008, Transfiguration clocks in at a massive 21 minutes, giving the duo plenty of time to put together a sprawling slow burning expanse that manages to retain a high degree of focus while also flowing freely.
Beginning with high pitched, bell like drones and a slowly creeping guitar note, it is hard to tell whether the vibes are good or evil, and before long the piece begins to move forward cinematically. It's like things are ascending way up to the heavens, and as the bells create a hypnotic flow, massive guitar drones take over everything. The sound is truly mountainous, with bits of molten feedback punctuating the atmosphere, and just when you think everything is going to be taken over by total noise, you realize that even though the music appears to be alive and of its own will, things are kept very much in control by the band. Amazingly, there seems to be a sense of implied rhythm, not in the sense of a traditional pop song, but the rhythm of the drone, taking things into a more realized form of existence. The white hot squalls of heavily distorted bliss swirl about but never decay, instead its like they are alive and breathing... and then, the piece is separated into its second half, by a lone voice. The low chant creates its own sort of spacious cavern, and the surrounding silence creates its own tension as more chants enter the atmosphere while higher voices float ethereally at the top. Giant cyclones of droned voices rise and recede, creating their own unique style of movement. The way the voices merge creates a cool disorienting effect where you lose all sense of direction in a state of suspended consciousness. Awesome.
Limited to a scant 200 copies, Transfiguration comes beautifully packaged in a thick cardstock sleeve with a professionally printed cd-r and serves as a nice teaser to the duo's upcoming full length on Root Strata!
Birchville Cat Motel may be dead, only to be replaced by the quite similar sounding, but much more massive and electronic flecked Our Love Will Destroy The World. But thankfully, Black Boned Angel, the other long running musical project of Campbell Kneale, lives on, with not one, but TWO new releases this list. The other, a second collaboration with like-minded musical heavies Nadja, and this, the latest full length after last year's devastating The Endless Coming Into Life.
Verdun, named for the legendary battle presumably, is almost like an Endless Coming part two, dialing back the sheer heaviness and exploring space and dynamics, but in the process, somehow sounding so much heavier. Three long songs, all tracked as a single 52 minute epic, takes ages to get going, which is just fine, in doom as in life, it's not about the destination it's about the journey, and BBA's journey is a death march through burning fields and soot filled skies, but that's a few minutes away. A slow slow slow build, all barely there ambience, before some massive drums kick in, and then it's JUST drums, pounding away, in a spaced out vacuum, spare but punishing, and then THE RIFF, a massive one, the sort of riff, that once written, becomes a part of the writer, and soon after the listener. Sleep has a few, Sabbath has lots, now BBA has one, a slow, slithery crawl, a handful of notes spread way out into a dark descending minor key melody, the drums, just there to drive it home, as this is the sort of riff that needs nothing else, the sort of riff any metalhead could listen to looped over and over and over forever. About 12 minutes in, the tone changes, some high end shimmer sneaks in, sheets of feedback, the riff is pulled apart, various notes left to ring out, the drums a little more active, before everything drops out completely, leaving just a distant keening riff, left to moan and groan, to ring out, mournful and so so doomy, at about the half hour mark, the main riff returns, but this time it's been transformed into something strangely melodic, almost like power metal played at 16rpm, epic, but still so slooooooow, building ever building, eventually crumbling into a swirling bit of noise and crumbled buzz, and a gorgeous classical chorus, a choir of voices just below the churning distorted surface, totally epic and weirdly haunting, the sounds of warfare, guns and planes and explosions, surfacing from below the sprawling low end rumble, eventually taking over completely, the last few minutes a harrowing collage of death and destruction, of bombs and the cries of the dying.
Definitely a different beast than many of the older BBA records, which blended the kitchen sink drones of Birchville Cat Motel with a sort of abstract black doom element, Verdun is more of a proper metal record, although to be sure 'proper metal record' is really relative, since as metal as this is, it's also just as much an experimental doomdronedirge record, regardless, it is maybe the most fully realized Black Boned Angel record yet, not sure if it's THAT RIFF, or because Kneale just keeps getting better and better, or because it's a concept record, so it's essentially a suite of interconnected songs. It's actually probably a little of all three, although as you might have guessed, we're definitely leaning toward THAT RIFF.
One of two new records this list from the always kick ass Utech label, the other is from Vagusnerve, a tripped out bit of guitar and laptop sonic alchemy, and this dark gem right here, the first release from the mysterious Blood Fountains, which counts as a member artist Stephen Kasner, responsible for much of the amazing Utech artwork (and has an amazing book of his art, we have one or two in stock if you want one, and you should!), and counts as a guest, dooooom chanteuse Yoshiko Ohara, from avant doom merchants Bloody Panda.
And the sound? Well if you're familiar with Kasner's artwork, it's hard to imagine that this isn't exactly what his paintings would sound like. Creeping fluttery ambience, flecked with ethereal vocals, spidery tendrils of Eastern buzz, draped over soft shards of muted crumbling thrum, deep swells of Godspeed like rumble, all beneath soaring string like shimmers, while a dense Lustmordian buzz sprawls into a sea of whirring blackness, and deep resonant hum. A slow motion, ultra delicate soft focus dreamdoom, rendered in flickers of wistful flute, processed guitar feedback, and glistening slabs of synth, wrapped in ephemeral flurries of reflective tones and overlapping layered vocal harmonies. A grim blackened new age drift, dark and mysterious and quite lovely.
Like all Utech releases, gorgeous packaging, a lush full color fold out sleeve, featuring original artwork by Kasner himself (of course)...
We're running out of ways to describe these guys. Out thesaurus has been bled dry. Bleak, hateful, grim, blackened, harsh, hellish... By now you should have at least an idea of where this diabolical duo are coming from. Epic slow motion expanses of blacknoize, and rumbling blown out low end, howled blackened dronemusic, ritualistic abstract guitar torture, these four tracks here, three are live, and previously released (but on tapes and cd-r's so limited, that unless you were THERE, you probably never saw one), one is previously UNreleased, well worth it for the black hearted and evil ear-ed.
The live tracks are brutal, might be the heaviest we've heard these guys, processed black soundscapes woven from grinding industrial crunch and howled hellish vox, heaving slabs of caustic low end dissipate in clouds of whirring downtuned thrum, way more effects than usual, tripped out and almost psychedelic sounding, streaked with super distorted white noise hiss. The B side begins with some gurgling black ambience, all rumble and creep, peppered with corrosive shards of amp buzz, eventually growing more and more heavy culminating in a strange assemblage of cool moaning melting riffage. That riffage then gets locked into a strangely hypnotic loop before devolving into yet more freaked out abstract heaviness.
Intense, punishing, pummeling, black as fuck and heavy as all get out, which to those of you into that sort of thing, means this is definitely recommended.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES! Comes in an incredible sleeve, spot varnished animal head on a rich black background, with an 11" x 11" printed insert.
Not sure what happened recently, but for a while there, there was a serious dearth of heavy bands in the Bay Area. And we mean HEAVY. Not just regular old metal bands, but bands doing something new with that heaviness. Prizehog, with their post Harvey Milk sludge, guitar synth and drums whipped up into a heaving black wave of crush. Wildildlife, who did call the Bay Area home for a while, their fractured psych pop metal weirdness, equal parts Butthole Surfers, Gaye Bykers On Acid, Black Sabbath and Adam Ant. Then there's Pigs, reviewed elsewhere on this list, who do their own sort of Melvins meets Motorhead thing. And now Borneo. Who are not nearly as heavy as any of those groups, but who infuse their considerable heft with some serious poppiness. The guitars are thick and crunchy and distorted and just slightly blown out, the drums pounding and propulsive, but where other bands might go for something more metallic, or totally chaotic, these guys tap into their indie rock roots, and the result is a super hooky hybrid, Jesu betwixt godheadSilo, with vocals, that less distorted and buried in the murk, could have been plucked right from a Pavement or Polvo song. It's a killer combo too, the music thick, and muscly and intense, with plenty of chug and grind, but all wrapped around some total classic indie rock. It's almost like Harvey Milk or Jesu covering Lync or Seam or even Codeine. The heart of these jams is melancholy and melodic, wistful and emotional, but that sound is given a serious facelift, and the result is, well, THIS. A kind of shoegaze-y metallic indie post rock that we are digging big time. Not sure what to call it, but usually, the harder it is to describe something, the cooler it is. And Charismatic Megafauna is indeed super cool...
The first two and best Breeder's records finally get their well-deserved vinyl reissue treatment!!
A portentous title if there ever was one, 1993's Last Splash was the bands biggest release, but one that crippled their lasting impact. With Kim Deal in full control and the Pixies broken up, she was able to broker this blockbuster release on the strength of a few singles, especially the mega-crossover hit, "Cannonball". That song played everywhere!!! Its hooky riff was even used as a sample in another worldwide smash hit, "Firestarter" by The Prodigy, securing Deal plenty of royalties. With Deal's twin sister, Kelly replacing Tanya Donnelly, the band gained creative intensity with stronger songwriting. But they also gained some heavy baggage, as their sudden superstar status took the band down some dark roads in order to deal with the relentless pressures of fame and touring. It took nearly ten years for the band to release their next record, but they were forever changed. One of the best alternative rock records of the nineties, at least time has been kind to Last Splash, still holding up after all these years. But not without leaving a near-fatal mark that the band is just now finally recovering from.
The first two and best Breeder's records finally get their well-deserved vinyl reissue treatment!
Pod was first released in 1990 as a side-project for Kim Deal of the Pixies and Tanya Donnelly from Throwing Muses to finally express some of the creative freedom they were lacking in their main bands. Joined by Josephine Wiggs of Perfect Disaster and produced by Steve Albini, The Breeders turned out an album with far more potential and fun than either of the two records the Pixies (Bossanova) and the Muses (Hunkpapa) put out at the time. Though the line-up was short-lived (Donnelly left shortly after to form her own band, Belly), Pod has become over the years a widely beloved record with more creative urgency and risk-taking than its more commercially successful follow-up. It pretty much jump-started what music would become in the nineties and still hasn't lost any of its timeless power. So awesome!
One of Wire magazine's records of 2008, the Caretaker's Persistent Repetition Of Phrases was in fact, when we finally got to hear it, incredible. Gorgeous, hazy, mysterious, destined to be one of OUR favorites as well. Unfortunately, when we tried to order it, intending to feature it prominently on the list, we discovered that it was in fact so limited that it was already out of print, not to be repressed. Argghhh.
Thankfully, the vinyl version showed up recently, so we grabbed as many as we could, so we could shower it with the praise it most definitely deserves. CD only folks are shit out of luck, but for now (and we mean NOW, these are crazy limited too) we have the vinyl, so grab one before they disappear.
The Caretaker has two modes, slow shimmery gauzy ambience, and slowed down warped and blurred big band and jazz. Often combing the two into some sort of otherworldly slow motion spectral dream jazz. We've been joking that the Caretaker is sort of like the DJ Screw of the avant underground, seeing as he takes scratchy old jazz records and reworks them Philip Jeck style into, woozy buried drifts of jazz shadows and haunting otherworldly vocals. Most of the jazzier tracks, sound like the soundtrack to some super creepy dream sequence, a la the Shining, like when Nicholson finds himself in that bar filled with ghosts, you can almost imagine, a dusty old saloon, broken mirrors, cigarette burned tables, sawdust floors, a lone figure sitting alone, hunched over in a dark corner, while all around him, nearly transparent figures move about as if still alive, a ballet of phantom familiarity, spirits unaware that they've moved on, going on with the machinations of daily life, their essence flickery and indistinct, like an old filmstrip. And a filmstrip soundtrack is exactly what the music of the Caretaker evokes, warm, effusive, burnished, old timey, antiquated, the sounds are dark and woozy and and bleed together, blurring into fuzzy stretches of lost memory, of suspended time. The music here is the sound of faded old photographs, of old super 8 movies projected on a wall in a dark and dusty old room, of abandoned skating rinks, of boarded up windows, of black clouds filling a slate grey sky, of life slowing to a crawl, before ven more slowly fading away. Absolutely and utterly breathtaking.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES.
L.A.'s kings of grindcore first full length (after a shitload of comps and 7"s). Heavy and noisy and totally hilarious. From the airbrushed cocaine/Conan the Barbarian 70's-van art cover, to the ridiculous between song banter (lifted from Venom and others) to the sort-of-appropriation of metal classics and 70's am radio hits that occasionally surface between bursts of all out grind, this record fucking rules. Think Crossed Out but not as slower and sloppier, or think Man Is The Bastard with a sense of humor.
Awesome.
It's been a while since we've heard from Reita Piecuch, aka Dialing In. Everything we've heard, we have loved, as in LOVED, as in became totally obsessed with, so when we heard about this lp months ago, we couldn't wait, and had been chomping at the bit, but now it's finally here, and is as good, if not better than anything we've heard from her before.
Piecuch's travels through the Middle East resulted in some absolutely incredible field recordings, local musicians, prayers, street sounds, ambient sounds, voices, traffic, which she then transforms into even more incredible soundscapes. Warped and collaged and murky and smeared and blurry, a whole new sonic experience, which somehow never obfuscates the original sounds completely. Street sounds in Piecuch's hands becomes skittery turntablist drift, all crackly and fuzzy and looped sounding, a call to prayer is slathered in distortion and becomes a woozy blown out buzz, while in the background, a sea of murky grooves and effected street sounds sway and swirl and bleed into each other creating a strangely organic sonic backdrop.
The sound is raw and rough and in-the-red, it's a symphony of sound assembled from incredible and mysterious source material, voices, music, and all the various sonic artifacts and detritus that comes with recording on a handheld device. These manipulated and recontextualized sounds become almost pop songs, twisted into new melodies, given new life as some abstract pop flecked collage, somehow lush, for all it's low fidelity, incredibly emotional, due in part to the original sounds, but also, Piecuch's delicate and deft handling of those sounds.
The second track is the perfect example, a woman singing, praying, passionately, and emotionally, her singing draped over what sounds like super distorted guitars, the whole thing transformed into a strange glacial dirge, equal part fuzzy fractured slow motion pop and Middle Eastern folk song, white white hot, but moody and minor key and so beautiful you never want it to end.
Imagine Philip Jeck, armed with nothing but his turntables, his effects, and dubplates of all the Sublime Frequencies releases, the results broadcast through a busted old high school PA, and recorded onto a microcassette recorder, before being dubbed onto an old tape from the floor of your car, and then finally, in all it's UN-pristine glory, pressed on to thick green wax. Fucking awesome!
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
No idea who Endless Time is or where they hail from, but his/her/their Coasting cassette on Monorail Trespassing is a great introduction, and stands well with some of the disturbed drone passages that have come from the recent output of Emaciator and Infinite Body. The first side ripples with an ominous drone from a single synth line transmitting beneath a series of haunted piano notes, which split the difference between the Caretaker and Cranioclast (if anybody remembers that once prolific German post-industrial outfit of peculiar darkness). Stretches of iron-clad static burst through these sci-fi atmospheres, giving way to a melodic interlude between two harmonized notes. The second side seems to be a soft dub of the first with alienating bleeps set in motion across an undulating and unsettling electrical field of an analog synth sawtooth drone, placated by pastoral flutes which emerge toward the end of the piece. Here, Endless Time has more of the '80s ambient feel of Vangelis, particularly from some of the Blade Runner soundtrack. Limited to 125 copies, of which we only have a few.
It's been a long road for Guy Blakeslee, since his early days as bassist for Baltimore post-punks the Convocation Of..., to the acoustic psych blues of Entrance. The last few years have seen that solo endeavor electrified into the Entrance Band with the addition of bassist Paz Lenchantin (whose recent Songs For Luci lp we reviewed a few lists back) and drummer Derek W. James, and here the trio dish up a solidly rocking collection of songs that very capably venture into more polished territory without losing any of their primal rock energy.
The end result emphasizes the band's impressive instrumentation - make no mistake, Blakeslee can shred, and the rhythm section ain't no slouches either - within a more modern indie approach while still managing to bring to mind some good ol' classic rock. It took a few listens for this to click with us, but once it did, we were sold. Those of us at AQ who have been bigtime Entrance fans from the beginning definitely noticed a much different production, aesthetic and straight ahead rock vibe to this new Entrance outing. In fact, when thinking of "modern rock", you may find yourself questioning why it isn't THIS you're hearing on the radio. The Entrance Band are a modern day power trio, bluesy and psychedelic as hell, with all kinds of snaky guitar licks, thunderous bass, and awesomely grooving drums, with Blakeslee's clear but powerful vocals cutting right through. One certainly gets the impression that they must tear shit UP live. A nice surprise, this one.
Another slab of spaced out kosmiche kraut riffage from these psychedelic warlords, their sound all Loop-ed guitars, propulsive in the pocket drumming, buried weary vox, all manner of lysergic effects, hazy distorted all over the place, locked into mesmerizingly repetitive grooves, sounds good huh? Anyone into Wooden Shjips, White Hills, Spacemen 3, if you haven't discovered these guys, you need to turn in your garage rock space drone trip out card RIGHT NOW.
But it's not too late, grab one one of these, dim the lights, fire up the hookah, rev up the magic carpet, and let this shit send you straight into the heart of the sun.
Unlike those other bands we mentioned, Eternal Tapestry is a bit more loose, on the verge of chaos, a drugged-out, raw as heck, punk kraut space rock, like locking Black Flag and Parson Sound in a basement full of wah and fuzz pedals and waiting for the destruction to begin. Their shit just keeps getting better and better. Invisible Landscapes picks up where their first Not Not Fun LP, Mystic Induction, left off, only this time the boys seem to have polished their sound. Don't get us wrong, E Tap still brings that raw, blown out tube amp destruction, but the trio seem more solid, more graceful about balancing their rawness with in the pocket rhythms and more clear cut song structures. The sound is a bit more unhinged and abstract, the songs slipping into some mathiness here and there, some free psych freakouts now and again, but always finding their way back to THE GROOVE.
It's Hawkwind worship of the highest order for sure, but filtered through a more modern drone-psych vibe. The A-side is absolute acid fried space jam bliss, any one into any of the above bands who lays their ears on this, will immediately have a new obsession. The flipside is much more soulful and laid back, the drumming super minimal, the guitars chiming and glistening, tons of wah wah (of course), killer hooks too, all over the place... Invisible Landscapes also touches on some new territory for the group, at times veering into a fast paced, hypnotic, machine-like plod, kind of like the Stooges covering a Suicide song, pretty damn sweet.�Nick Bindeman and Dewey Mahood send hazy vocals and blissed out guitar solos into the grey sky while Jed Bindeman pounds away on his kit like a lawless locomotive with his sights on the horizon. Heavy hitting, blistering psych-punk that will keep you head banging 'til the early morn, and then there's the closer, a total classic space pop ur-jam, dipped in fuzzy crunch and shoegaze shimmer. NICE!
Ba-booom! This a Nardwuar The Human Serviette alert! A short dose is contained on this here record - a split 7" between Nardwuar's band The Evaporators and a certain Andrew W.K.
Yeah, we were sort of braced when this showed up. Can you say "Gung ho!"? Two irrepressible individuals and their respective cohorts go toe to toe, wreaking some good ol' garage rock havoc. Mr. W.K. covers two awesome songs by two awesome Canadian bands, punk rock legends Vancouver's Subhumans and the mighty Toronto duo The Leather Uppers. It's a relatively stripped down W.K. compared to his stadium rock persona of yore, but it's no less bombastic. Nardwuar and co. tackle a tune by obscure Montrealers Les Hou-Lops as well as deliver one of their own, the sillily juvenilely titled "The Bombs In My Pants". If you're seeking a ridiculous fun listen and some extremely obscure pop trivia, this is for you! Bonus "treats": a brief clip of Nardwuar interviewing W.K. as well as a printed insert that verges on old school obsessive zine-ish-ness documenting among other things the coming together of the two. Actually, attempting to read the tiny solidly packed text will probably take longer than listening to these five songs!
More warped otherworldly sound collage murky warble from one half of the late great Skaters. And like everything else we've heard from Ferraro post-Skaters, the sounds on Citrac, a two lp collection of mostly previously released material (but most so limited you probably never heard 'em anyway), are a blurred jumble of fantastically twisted time machine lo-fi anti-pop. Ferraro along with his ex-bandmate have been credited with spearheading the so called 'hypnogogic pop' movement, but pop seems to have very little to do with this. Pop CULTURE maybe. Visually, the jacket and inner sleeve are adorned with all manner of eighties cheesiness, which thankfully isn't necessarily reflected in the music. Instead, Ferraro takes his arsenal of music making devices, busted effects and falling apart 4-track, as well as a handful of samples from cop shows and after school specials and late night made for TV movies, and goes about, snipping and pasting and looping and smearing those various sounds into some totally tripped out krautdrone, psych-synth, buzz-loop weirdness.
All of the sounds here are murky and muddy and sound like they were recorded on an old VHS tape and then duped over and over and over and over. The percussion is clattery but buried in the mix, tons of reverb and delay, much of the first disc sounds like a John Carpenter soundtrack spinning lazily on a fucked up turntable while someone holds their thumb down on the vinyl, causing the record to slip and slow down, the whole thing peppered with strange howled vocals (or what sound like vocals). The end of side two features a sonic event that seems to pop up all over these two records, an awesome lurching synth-psych loop, that could have gone on FOREVER, but ends way too soon. Also, as far as we can tell, the first record is meant to play at 45, it definitely sounds like Ferraro at 45, but it sounds really cool at 33 too, even more industrial and woozy and washed out.
The second disc though, sounds like 33 is the correct speed, 45 makes it a bit manic, but still pretty intense and psychedelic, but at 33, it's way more aggressive than the first record, more industrial too, like a doom metal Wolf Eyes or something, albeit way more fucked up and fractured, loads of low end, metallic percussion, and some sick inhuman barks wreathed in effects, at 33 it's creepy, at 45 it becomes some sped up soundtrack video game alien techno. Weirdly twisted and almost proggy. Rad stuff for sure.
LIMITED TO 400 COPIES!!
Apparently, this UK duo, Ben Moon and Richard Sides, aka Forest Creature, have dabbled in all manner of noisemaking in their brief existence, creating huge crushing walls of speaker shredding brutality, or super glitched out psychedelic beat heavy crunch, or howling, live, drum driven psychnoise freakouts, and while traces of those sounds are still present, we have to say, we're pretty partial to the twisted noise captured here, a seeming distillation of those disparate sounds, into something much more refined and focused, perhaps equally varied sonically, but somehow still strangely cohesive, and epic 'song' suite, due in no small part to the editing and sequencing as the actual music making itself.
The label drops names like Black Dice, Fuck Buttons, Animal Collective, Autechre, and those all do pretty much apply, but to our ears, there seems to be much more to Forest Creature than just aping their influences, we hear the ominous cinematic synthiness of Goblin, the intense late night noir buzz of recent aQ faves D.A., the murky swirl and shimmery out-of-time new age-y drift of the recent crop of pop hypnogogists, but here, those influences, as well as a handful of purloined sounds, are all reimagined, reinterpreted and all tangled up into constantly squirming and unraveling soundscapes, that skitter from almost kraut-like mesmer, to nineties style IDM, to looped woozy minimal synth wave, to gorgeous haunting murky heroin house, but no matter what the sound, or where the songs seem to be headed, Forest Creature mold all those elements into something truly original, lush, and deep, and dark, sometime super chaotic and hyper rhythmic, other times hushed and ominous. "Edit 4" begins as a foreboding minimal slow burning drone, but eventually builds to a warped synth loop, that gets more and more crunchy and buzz, the low end billowing out like a black cloud, the effects eating away at the original loop, super intense and totally mesmerizing. "Edit 5" is all rumbling low end whir, a distant beat, buried way down in the murk, looped and skittery, hovers below a black ambience that seems to swirl and shimmer in slow motion. "Edit 3" might be the prettiest of the bunch, beginning with a skeletal high end looped rhythm, which is soon joined by some warm warbly synths way off in the distance, the rhythm remains steady, but that low end grows thicker, and buzzier, creating thick warm slabs of chordal hum, playing out a gorgeous melancholy slowcore melody, a haunting depressive slow pop crawl, run through with that skeletal skitter, until both the buzz and the beat, begin to crumble, and intensify, until the song is transformed into a noise drenched psychedelic swirl.
So awesome. And a little bit surprising coming from Blackest Rainbow, whose past releases have tended more toward groups like Jazzfinger, Barn Owl, Bong, Starving Weirdos and the like. Frustrated Analogue is some fantastically twisted, blissed out, synth heavy electronic psychedelia, repetitive, hypnotic, spaced out, warped and glitchy, drone-y and rhythmic, moody and mysterious, a dizzying melding of This Heat, Goblin, John Carpenter, old Warp Records 12"s, early Chain Reaction, modern synthdrone, early analogue synth music, and the groups we mentioned up top (Fuck Buttons, Black Dice, Animal Collective, etc.). Way way recommended. Easily one of our new favorites...
The attack of the killer outsider jams continues! One thing the recent crop of left of center damaged pop deconstructionists have in common is their rapid fire release schedule. Seems like everytime we come up for air there's a new slab of wax from Blank Dogs, Ariel Pink, Kurt Vile and now Gary War. But we ain't complaining one bit cause we've loving it. And so far, everything we've heard from Gary War has KILLED, and these six brand new tracks are no exception. While Ariel Pink has made clear his love of and inspiration from R. Stevie Moore, it seems that for Gary War his true influence is Joe Meek, as evidenced by GW's tripped out production and bubbling/collapsing electronics.
Those elements are fused with some seriously strange skewed pop and has us imagining what it might have sounded like if Meek lived long enough to have produced fucked up new wave albums. Of all the current warped pop peddlers Gary War really does feel in sound and spirit closest to John Maus, as they both use really primitive electronics to help achieve their otherworldly approach to pop gone wrong, so damn right!
FYI the copies we got (and all the ones at our distributor too) are all just a tiny little bit dinged on the corners, sorry, them's the breaks.
Yes, the "(Nippon)" in their name means that these genocidal gents are from Japan. Also, they're from the '80s, and very VERY metal. Makes for a cool combo! We'd never heard of 'em until this deluxe reissue recently appeared, but don't doubt it's a cult classic, as we were immediately were struck by the awesome metal craziness of this band. They've got wild dual guitars, evil riffage, and most significantly, truly over the top vocals. INSANE vocals. Dynamic, dramatic high pitched wailings and demonic lower register declamations... Mercyful Fate fans will definitely enjoy this, the guy sounds like an unhinged student of King Diamond, also somewhat like Messiah from Candlemass, but possessed by sinister Japanese spirits, laughing and screaming.
Black Sanctuary was first released in 1988. Musically, the band play classically influenced trad metal (not quite thrash or speed, but sometimes fairly doomy), manic yet melodic, and pretty much hellishly heavy for that sort of thing, though there is one wimpy, almost new agey tune, an instrumental with acoustic guitars and weepy keyboards. What happened? Dunno but as soon as that's over they start killing again, so it's just a weird interlude (on a weird album)! If you picked up the Slauter Xstroyes reissues we listed recently, and are ready for some even more outrageous underground '80s metal with ridiculously expressive vocals, look no further.
It's a nicely done reissue, the cd booklet contains a band history (1979 through the present day!) as well as the lyrics, the English portions of which are exceedingly strange and cryptic, perhaps because of the translation, perhaps not. At the band's request, Shadow Kingdom has provided brand new cover art, but the original cover is also included on the back of the cd booklet, which we always appreciate (so you have the option of which to use, flipping it over if you want). And, there's a whole bonus disc included of demo tracks, different recordings from the album versions.
The return of possibly our favorite depressive black metal band going these days, the awesomely (and ironically, obviously) monickered Happy Days, who seem to keep getting better and better, and weirder and weirder with every release, and with Happiness Stops Here... we can add poppier and poppier.
Their MO remains the same, but then why fix what ain't broke? Clean minor key guitars, simple drumming, those two elements wound into a loping post rock meander, before the buzzy blackness erupts and takes over, as well as the WAY up in the mix, harsh howled vokills. It's that weird dichotomy that makes Happy Days so compelling, the music is so pretty, so darkly melodic and weirdly poppy, and those vocals, a harsh sinister croak, constantly pulling and pushing against each other. On this record more than either of the others, the melodic component is front and center, remove the vocals, and we'd be talking some seriously dreamy buzz pop, or tweak it just a bit and we'd be in Lifelover territory, as it is, it's more like a revved up Hypothermia, or a slowed down, much more raw and ragged Katatonia, when the second clean guitar comes in, and offers a super emotional melodic counterpoint, it's some seriously intense stuff.
"My Brutus" features those dueling guitars, over some cool busy drumming, and some almost melodic vocals (still harsh and raspy), the guitars chiming, the vibe almost new wavey, the main riff looped endlessly, the whole track totally hypnotic. "Letting Go" might be our favorite though. The drums and guitar locked into a woozy downtuned lumbering groove, the vocals echo-y and reverbed, deep and near spoken, until again, a second guitar swoops in and offers up an arpeggiated minor key melody that wraps itself around that original riff, before the harsh vocals explode in a frenzy of tortured misery, until the drums bust out double time, and the guitars lock into a dizzying rapid fire harmony, which is easily the high point of the record, both emotionally and musically. Super intense and so goddamn catchy.
The thing with Happy Days, was that in the beginning, their ineptness and half assedness was a huge part of their appeal, total on the verge of falling apart chaos, strange and obvious samples, lots of drum struggle, all of which -would- occasionally coalesce into some seriously dark depressive buzz, but would inevitably splinter into chaos once again. The band now are so much tighter, which generally would turn us off, we like our fucked up black metal as inept and as damaged as possible, but it suits these guys, they're still plenty loose and rough and raw, but locked into these darkly depressive pop grooves, these guys are in their element, and seemingly have no equal. Depressive black metal record of the year? Most definitely? Buzzing blackened gloom pop record of the year, maybe that too...
No one has done more in recent years to renew faith in the power of dance music than Andy Butler. With his amazing debut album as Hercules & Love Affair he took his passion for decades of dance floor culture, from disco to house, to create one of the most vibrant and memorable debuts of the decade. Sidetracked finds Andy putting together a mix of music that truly moves him. So in case you are confused this is NOT A NEW HERCULES & LOVE AFFAIR ALBUM, but instead an awesome document of many of the sonic ingredients that helped inform Andy's taste, and were a huge part of the amazing sounds he creates with Hercules.
HOWEVER, there is one brand new Hercules track in his mix and oh my god does it kill! "I Can't Wait" has this manic house vibe of ecstatic empowerment that's made us play that track more times then we can count! The first disc is the actual DJ mix so you can also get a feel of what it's like to be on the dance floor for one of his DJ sets. He culls his tracks from tons of classic house records (many of total obscurities) as well as some left-field disco gold. Dubwise, Studio X, Dr. Buzzards Original Savanah Band, Gino Soccio, Rainbow Team, In Flagranti, Daniel Wang and lots others. The second disc pulls out eleven of those tracks and keeps them unmixed in their original form but remastered so even those of you lucky enough to have a worn out 12" of some of these burners now can hear them all clean and shiny for a change. Of course we're anxiously anticipating the actual new Hercules & Love Affair album, but until then we're loving being Sidetracked!
This is not the first time we've heard from these Portuguese heavy metallers, but might be the best time! Either this band has gotten better over the years, or our ears have gotten more and more leathery (possibly both). This is their first release since the NWOBHM covers split 7" they did with Slough Feg back in 2005, and it's been worth the wait, that is if you're into epick swords and sorcery metal '80s style. Overlords Of Chaos is escapist metal manna to sate the bloodthirsty appetites of true metal warriors, the lyrics based on works of Robert E. Howard (just like their doomier brothers-in-arms The Gates Of Slumber). Underground, only-for-the-true stuff, very much in the vein of Ironsword's big heroes Manilla Road. So much so, that they actually got Manilla Road's Mark "The Shark" Shelton to sing backup on a few of the tracks here. Boy, the Ironsword dudes must have been excited about that! We're almost surprised that Shelton wasn't too busy signing each band member's entire Manilla Road collection to actually have time to get behind the microphone.
Ironsword's regular vocalist also sounds a lot like Shelton, delivering these barbaric battle hymns in a manner both gruff and triumphant. That well matches the music, seriously pounding and powerful. We say seriously, and if you can't take these Conan-inspired tracks ("Wrath Of Crom", "Cimmeria", "Dark Shadows Of Stygia", etc.) in that spirit, well... either this isn't for you, or at least you'll get some laughs out of it! If the latter is the case, fine, but you'll be missing the gist of something that really means a lot to these guys... they're not doing this for laughs at all. R.E. Howard and Manilla Road speak to their hearts, and maybe Ironsword can speak to yours if you let them.
All thirteen tracks here, from the uber-majestic opening sweep of "Death Of The Gods" to the glorious "Hyperborean Hordes" to the ripping "Fear The Night" to the semi-acoustic requiem of "The Pyre Of Kings" are Howardian headbangers par excellence. But it's the rockin' "Road Warriors" with its monomaniacal, repetitive riff break that starts at about the 3 minute mark that is the highlight for us, though. Suddenly they're Pharaoh Overlord, for about 45 seconds at least! Otherwise, it's all about good stuff like Cirith Ungol, Omen, Manowar, Sacred Steel, Doomsword, The Gates Of Slumber, and of course Manilla Road.
There's another retro-'80s "true metal" album reviewed this list, the self-titled one by Portrait. Comparing the two, well, they're both gonna be cult items. But Ironsword seems to be the geekier gang, yet their music is heavier and rawer as well. If you had to choose between Portrait and Ironsword (we like 'em both), it's a basically a choice between Mercyful Fate and Manilla Road... and if you aren't into either of *those* bands, then we imagine that both Portrait and Ironsword would want no part of you anyway.
What would happen if you somehow mixed the chaotic two piece post punk frenzy of No Age with the earnest, fuzzed out classic kinetic yowled indie rock of Superchunk? Odds are it would end up sounding a lot like Japandroids. A guitar and drums duo, who kick up a killer racket, with crunchy fuzzed out riffage, super distorted wild drumming, some seriously anthemic jams, and minimal lyrics, most repeated over and over and over, ripe for wild sweaty basement show sing alongs, the vocals are high and keening and emo(tional), the band are wild and woolly, not all that tight, just rough and raw and loose enough to make this whole record feel like they're playing right there in the room with you, like any minute you could find yourself careening into the drum kit, or you could suddenly be sprawled on the floor with the guitar player and a bunch of kids writhing right next to you covered in beer and wrapped in feedback. Sweaty and intense, energetic, super rocking and WAY fun, these guys must KILL live, and although lots of bands do, most have trouble capturing that live energy on record, but Japandroids don't seem to have any problems there at all.
Super limited release from this long time aQ fave, continuing on in his recent Tape Chants direction, where, tired of working digitally, decided to work with tapes and old tape players, the results of which were displayed on the Tape Chants disc on Kranky reviewed back in May. These particular Tape Chants were recorded live, and were pressed up as a cd-r (in super swank screenprinted sleeves BTW) for his current US tour.
Like the cd proper, Kowalsky works magic with his tapes, on the first lengthy track, creating a symphony of bells and chimes and gongs, letting the overtones drift and overlap and bleed into one another until they begin to crumble and buzz, and on the second track, where similar sounding bells are set amidst a field of deep grinding rumbles and softly buzzing low end, the bell like tones bobbing as if on some soft black sea. Softly percussive, almost nautical sounding, whirring and hypnotic, meditative and ethereal.
Gorgeous stuff. Obviously grab one of these while you can, before we run out, and if you get the chance, don't hesitate to see him live conjure these sonic mysteries in the flesh!
What's weird is we don't remember liking Lake Of Dracula very much back in the day, but listening to this now, it's sort of kicking our ass in a huge way. Pounding sludgy new wavish punk rock, with a serious gothy dark vibe. Sort of like Chrome playing Interpol or something. Big crunchy guitars playing doomy angular riffs, a simple garagerock thud, thick swaths of feedback, occasional squalls of psychedelic freakout, and vocals that rant and rave in a super dramatic croon. Most of this disc is take from a live radio broadcast recorded May 28th, 1997, but there are a handful of extra tracks taken from singles and compilations. This short lived combo ('95-'97) featured Flying Luttenbachers drummer extrordinaire Weasel Walter on the GUITAR, Marlon Magas from Couch and Magas on vocals, Jessica from the Jacks on bass and Heather M. from the Scissor Girls on the drumkit as well as some guest rock action from Al of U.S. Maple fame.
Shit, the more we listen to this, the more we're digging it. An ultra chaotic mix of old school industrial thud, gloomy depressive punk rock, psychedelic garage rock stomp, a hellish sort-of-rockabilly with reverbed guitars and galloping drums, gloomy doom and in-your-face no-wave freakout. Seems like it would be a big ol' mess and it sort of is, but it sounds so impossibly good. Like the Strokes with frontal lobotomies recording for Bulb, or some caveman doom band covering Franz Ferdinand after taking huge handfuls of horse tranquilizers. Getting a jump on the current crop of new wave revivalists by a decade. But their new wave was a whole lot darker, damaged and demented!
All you really need to know about these Oakland sludge/doom merchants is what is being played, and what bands the various members hail from. So, howabout Graves At Sea, Brainoil and Pig Heart Transplant for a heavy low ended pedigree? And what exactly is employed to create this gloriously grim racket? "Overdriven string corrosion, ambient texture and documentation", "battering ram and subsonic transmissions", "low end frequency discharge, vocal disruption and auditory experimentation" and of course "battery acid, bellows and blasphemy". So yeah, you know where these crushers are coming from. Crushing, punishing doom infused sludge, laced with thick black drones and buzzing abject industrial ambience, all blurred into a massive heaving blackened brutal sonic beast.
Beginning with some sort of alien soundscape, until huge sheets of white noise take over, you're not sure if you hear the sounds of a guitar or maybe just overwhelming electronic wind-like sounds, all strange and buzzing and creepy.
Finally, weird little bits of abstract keyboard buzz and drift before the band kicks in. And WHAM, super heavy and sludgey, like black tar heroin, but also Eyehategod groovy; Khanate vokills that almost exude a black metal vibe. Lots of negative space to make things tense and uncomfortable. A second singer bellows in his best Neurosis voice, the perfect foil for the other more high pitched yowl, all tangled up with a cool. but weirdly sour guitar lick, giving the track a much more twisted vibe.
The record slips from crushing doom, to dense blackened rumble and back again, inserting angelic choral vocals, strange blurred electronics, super intense subsonic feedback, the bass thick and gritty and dirty, the sound here, when the band is rocking, is not at all that far removed from Burning Witch or Zoroaster, but the band pepper their sludgy crush with gorgeous black drone interludes, which makes this more of an EP, only one of epic doom-ic proportions, which renders it an EP that just so happens to stretch out to 50 minutes. Bad ass.
Any band that stirs up tons of shit on the net, inspiring vitriolic tirades, definitely gets us interested, whether they can back it up sonically is another thing entirely.
Velvet Cacoon might be the best example, beginning life as a supposed Eco-Fascist black metal band, who created their dense drone-y buzz with a 'diesel harp', only later revealing that they were taking the piss. But it hardly mattered, cuz the music they made was totally transcendent, their sick sense of humor and antagonism toward the rest of the black metal scene only added to their appeal. So it should come as no surprise that Lonesummer, who share a label with Velvet Cacoon, are inspiring similarly heated reactions. In their case, it's not because of any bullshit mythmaking, it's because their sound is seriously fucked up, like nothing you've ever heard. Taking inspiration from the new wave of buzzy poppy shoegazey black metal, but twisting it all up into a noise drenched, chopped and looped. barrage of beats and riffs and damaged effects and bizarre vocals, and delicate melodies and strange samples, a dizzying jumble, that for some might be total torture, but for us, and we would guess most adventurous listeners out there, What We Were might just become a fast favorite.
Obviously if you dig bands like Alcest and Lifelover and Amesoeurs, you should for sure check this out, and while Lonesummer do share some of the same sonic elements, this is SO MUCH WEIRDER.
Best to probably just go song by song, it's too varied and all over the map to really boil it down to a single descriptor.
"The Ones Who Grab My Hand, The Lost Souls" is a crushing barrage of noise, there seems to be some metal underneath the noise, but it's so obfuscated it's more like a pulse, or another layer of static, like a more rhythmic Merzbow, but laced with some hysterical shrieking vokills, before the song fragments and begins to crumble, and gets all mathy and chaotic and industrial, while underneath, some super distorted vocal jazz surfaces, scatting female vox, skittery drums, piano and bass, but all tangled up with Lonesummer's frantic crumbling buzz, so fucked up and so weird, but super cool.
The second track is more traditionally buzzy and black, but it's all relative, 3 minutes of the same muted muddy riff, programmed drum skitter, occasional demonic growl, but all smeared with hazy soft focus melodies, the whole thing blurred into a woozy mesmer, a bit like a Pop Ambient Wold. Then there's "Long Winter Way" that fills the first half of the track with delicate chiming minor key guitar, softly swaddled in reverb and delay, only to get all bleary eyed and gauzy and soft poppy and shoegazey toward the end, sounding more like Ariel Pink or John Maus than any metal we've ever heard. Backwards drums sizzle beneath loopy flurries of notes, all swirling in a cloud of soft hushed shimmer. The rest of the record is equally disparate, from lurching crushing low, blackened and super distorted, to blasting brittle black metal, all repetitive and wrapped in still more layers of fuzz and buzz and whir, to the blown out in-the-red distorto noise bliss of the title track, to the psychedelic smoldering crumble of "We All Looked So Perfect", like a music box plugged into a million distortion pedals, to the closer, a loping, super melodic slow core depressive dirge, with lovely clean guitars, howled vokills, and a shimmery vacuum cleaner buzz wrapped around everything, simultaneously ultra melodic, warmly washed out and blissfully otherworldly.
Guaranteed to piss off purists, but so is about 90 percent of the stuff we dig, but for anyone into fucked up and freaky, baffling and bizarre blackness, this might be your new favorite band.
LIMITED TO ONLY 100 COPIES!!!! Gorgeously packaged in a full color oversized 7" style sleeve.
It's nearly impossible not to be ensorcelled by Samara Lubelski's mystical voice. She possesses that rare human instrument that is both otherworldly, and warm and familiar, easily seducing the listener after only a few seconds. Had she been born decades earlier, she most likely would have been musical comrades with sixties chanteuses like Francoise Hardy, Joyce, Brigitte Fontaine, Jane Birkin, etc.
Future Slip finds her in top form with lush instrumentation creating the most perfect daydream backdrop for her beautiful vocal delivery. With Thurston Moore in the producer's chair (returning the favor for all the great playing Samara did on his solo outing Trees Outside The Academy). And it's really important to note that Samara isn't just a lady with a gorgeous voice, she's also such an accomplished musician with a wonderful knack for smart and sizzling song construction. A lot of Future Slip brings us to those more mellow Stereolab moments or when Latetitia Sadier records as Monade. Lubelski also finds kindred spirits in folks like Juana Molina and we have a feeling that Charlotte Gainsbourg's new album in the works with Beck writing and arranging could become the perfect companion piece for this record. Future Slip sways and swirls with such ease and lingers with such a nice soft psychedelic shimmer.
First full length (as far as we know) from this sometimes Ducktails collaborator, who seems to be making his move lately for some solo recognition, and he's bound to get it, occupying as he does a sonic station similar to Ariel Pink, Gary Way, John Maus, Ducktails (obviously) and that whole new breed of warped lo-fi sunshiney downer pop.
Thankfully, Lynch brings his own take on THAT sound, creating something much more washed out and abstract and haunting, with sorrowful vocals, throbbing Joy Division-y basslines, gnarled super effected wah wah psych guitar, and of course, LOADS of murky haze.
The vocals tend toward a delicate falsetto, often hovering over whirring synths, warbly organs, skittery drums and almost always some crazy weirdly wild and almost unhinged sounding guitar squalls. A seriously strange mix of hushed jangle balladry and wild psych freakout. There's also some strange electronics, a little drum machine, some distinctly new wave stretches, even some tropical sounding calypso moments that betray his Ducktails past, and of course plenty of abstract tweakery, but at its very core this is pop music, a bit fractured and fucked up for sure, but still plenty dreamy and drifty and divine.
BACK IN PRINT! This exceedingly weird '80s fantasy metal band has another of their many obscure albums reissued on cd! We first listed this way back in 2000, and it's a reissue of a 1983 album in the first place. But these days, Manilla Road is probably much better known than they ever were, whether nine or 26 years ago, now being cited as an influence by everyone from The Gates Of Slumber to Wormsblood, so it's about the time this cd was available again, particularly 'cause it's also pretty much our favorite of their whole weird ouvre (though they're still going strong even today).
When you talk about a cult metal band, they don't get much more "cult" than this one... Hailing from the state of Kansas, but more at home in some sub-Robert E. Howardian prehistoric epoch of swords and sorcery, this band is beloved by the same folks who worship Cirith Ungol and The Lord Weird Slough Feg, and should appeal to bizarre-minded fans of Iron Maiden, Rush, Blue Oyster Cult, Manowar... "Crystal Logic" is a perfect illustration of what's great (and ridiculous) about Manilla Road: eccentric (to say the least) vocals, a totally wrong (tinny, thin, poverty-stricken) guitar sound that paradoxically sounds fantastic & punk, doomy bass, mythological/intellectual lyrics, and lets not forget the so-bad-it's-good cover art... But most importantly, Manilla Road had the talent and imagination to write some great songs, and truly rule their own unique sub-genre of progressive, remarkably catchy garage-metal. This reissue includes the crazed guitar instrumental "Flaming Metal System" as a bonus track. On the album proper, you'll find true Manilla classics like the oft-covered "Necropolis", the doomy "The Veils Of Negative Existence", and the especially epic "Dreams Of Eschaton".
This latest release from modern prog heroes Mars Volta finds them at their orchestrated and organized best. Omar Rodriguez Lopez lays on the guitar effects while Cedric Bixler Zavala's vocals soar above and beyond into the stratosphere. There's a lot of extended build ups (as one has grown to expect) and some really crazy drum work on this record (especially on "Cotopaxi"). Though most of the eight tracks rock almost beyond belief, there are a couple sloooow, dreamy jams that almost require closed eyes and a doobie to fully appreciate.
A while back, Alive Records released Why Don't You Give It To Me?, a pretty darn badass slab of psychedelic R&B garage funk fronted by Detroit soul singing sixties legend Nathaniel Mayer. It was the man's "comeback album" of sorts, and definitely helped introduce him to a new generation of fans. The combination of his charismatic, age-burnished voice with the super stoned and sometimes Stoogesy jamming of his much younger band (featuring members of such acts as the Black Keys and the Dirtbombs) was pretty darn killer. Sadly, Mayer suffered a stroke last year and eventually passed away at the not so ripe old age of 64. But it's good to know that up until then, he was pretty darn active, doin' his music, touring and recording and finding an eager audience. We're also now glad to learn that a lot more was recorded at the sessions that produced Why Don't You Give It To Me? than could fit on that one record, and now here's a posthumous second volume of modern day shack shaking Nathaniel Mayer soul singing rockin' and rollin' action! If you liked WDYGITM? then you'll also dig WWYLMBB? It consists of eight tracks, six electric numbers from those sessions plus two "unplugged" radio performances full of bluesy strum. The disc starts off surprisingly mellow, with the slow jam "Dreams Come True", Mayer's ragged voice to the fore. A voice that couldn't come from a younger man, that's for sure, but is also still quite supple and expressive. Pretty soon thereafter the fuzz kicks in, this disc featuring its share of thwomping electric muzz, that sort of thing reaching its zenith perhaps on the penultimate track "The Puddle", wherein Mayer sings about just how high he is. Again, we're sad that Mr. Mayer is no longer with us, but happy that these recordings (and maybe more to come) exist to allow us to enjoy his raw soul talent eternally (or, at least for our lifetimes).
San Franciscan Sean McCann has produced a ton of material running the gamut between splattery feral pop, crusty noise, and dreamy droneworks; and despite our neighborly geographies, we've only managed to get a hold of a few of his recordings, most of which tend toward the micro-edition side of things. The fine folks at Foxy Digitalis have been showering this guy with praise; and now we can see why on this great cassette from the increasingly essential cassette label Monorail Trespassing. Wind In Their Way begins with a sweeping atmosphere of elongated drone, smoke, and shadow with an elegant violin emoting sad, sad melodies all bathed in reverb, looped back into those background sounds, and muddled nicely into the mix. Here, McCann seems to be paralleling what fellow Bay Area stringed conjurer Darwinsbitch had mustered on her impressive Ore album released earlier in 2009. This same direction continues on the second side of the album, with more shimmering tones that probably have their origins from a guitar, producing majestic swells of ambience not nearly as dark as those by Troum but just as ethereal, with those gauzy, flickering ghosts of sound woven in and out. Peter Wright and Machinefabriek even come to mind on this lovely, lovely, lovely piece. Limited to 125 copies!
We're happy to report that the internet has not (entirely) killed the 'zine. Blogs and websites are great, but can't really replace a good old fashioned b&w stapled xeroxed 'zine! They do seem old fashioned, though. And that vintage quality is fully embraced by this metal 'zine out of Canada, Morbid Tales, since the subject matter covered is pretty old school too. Some of the bands here are new, but they carry the torch of '80s underground metal (thrash, doom, death and NWOBHM) high. '90s cult black metal and '70s psych and prog is also not outside Morbid Tales' purview. While all 'zines are labors of love, editor Annick "Satannick" Grioux REALLY is a maniac for this music. Her enthusiasm really captures the spirit of 'zines back in the old pre-internet tape-trading days.
Interviewees, among others, include Darkthrone, Portrait, Master's Hammer, Voivod, Pagan Altar, Cauldron, The Lamp Of Thoth, Elixir, Soothsayer, and, get this, Flower Travellin' Band (who get asked about the naked chopper riding cover photo of their debut LP)!! Plus there's reviews of obscure releases and demos, metal tourist shopping guides to London, Paris, Montreal, and Prague, show reports, and other interesting tidbits, including a brief guide to "Purple Metal" aka Italian Horror Metal like Black Hole and Paul Chain.
This is Morbid Tales' biggest issue yet, 117 full size pages, plus flip it over and then there's another 13 page bonus zine all about heavy metal cooking tips entitled Hell Bent For Cooking (soon to be expanded into a book to be published by Bazillion Points we're told)! Recipes contributed by members of Anvil, Exciter, Cauldron, Trouble, The Gates Of Slumber, Countess, Ogre, Piledriver, and others. Such delicious dishes as: The Stew Of True Doom. Tomato-Garlic Hellfire Chicken. Black Pudding And Squid In It's Own Ink, With A Hashish Garnish. And then by the last few pages, the recipes have turned into drink mixes, these being metalheads after all...
Morbid Tales #6 (+ Hell Bent For Cooking) is an impressively thick tome of metal obsessiveness all in all. We only got a handful of copies (8) and won't be able to get any more, as it's SOLD OUT, so act fast if you want one.
Managed to get a handful more of these from the Mountain Goats, good chance these will be the last copies we see, so act fast!!!
Another super limited vinyl only Mountain Goats record, this one a collaboration concept record with SF power popper John Vanderslice. The Mountain Goats (aka John Darnielle) and Vanderslice toured together earlier this year, and took the opportunity to make a record together, but not just any record, a CONCEPT record. And not just any concept record, no, this one tells the story of organ harvesting colonies on the moon, and the employees of said colonies, who spend their non work time living in luxurious seclusion throughout America. Wow.
The record itself isn't like a typical rock opera, it's loosely related to the concept, so it plays just fine simply as a gorgeous pop record, and a gorgeous pop record it is. Lush and well produced, with lots of instruments, guitars and organs and cellos and harmonicas and even handclaps (we know, not actually an instrument)! Darnielle and Vanderslice trade off songs, each writes and sings his own, but both contribute to all of them. Plus the record was produced by Chris Stamey, of pop legends the dB's, he also plays on a bunch of the songs.
Darnielle's instantly recognizable, slightly nasal croon plays nicely with Vanderslice's more traditional power pop vocals, lots of lovely harmonies, woven into the gorgeous instrumentation, plenty of hooks, catchy melodies, moody and melancholy mostly, but with moments of joyous exuberance, fans of both the Mountain Goats and Vanderslice should dig this a lot. We definitely do.
This is super limited, and not a lot of places are selling it. We got a bunch direct from the band, and these are most likely all we'll be able to get. Pressed on good old heavy black wax, and housed in thick full color sleeves. While they last, VERY recommended.
Another awesome, and limited self released lp from Mountain Goats HQ, another collaboration in fact. We listed Moon Colony Bloodbath a while back (and again elsewhere on this list, got a few more copies in!), which found the MGs' John Darnielle teaming up with pop songsmith John Vanderslice, Black Pear Tree pairs Darnielle with folk rocker Kaki King, who we have to admit we had heard very little from before this, but based on her contributions here, we definitely need to hear more.
An ep, but each song here is surprisingly lush and expansive, long long gone are the days of lo-fi boombox recordings, the opening track alone is one of the most beautifully produced songs we've heard from Darnielle, who plays piano, while King vocalizes in a childlike croon, the sound so hushed and the production so intimate you can hear the pedals of the piano being depressed, while all around strange electronics and effects swirl and skitter, but in a way that doesn't at all take away from the song, but instead merely adds texture and mystery.
The rest of the record is a bit More Mountain Goats sounding, Darnielle handling the lion's share of the vocals, but here and there the two harmonize, and King's voice is a nice match for Darnielle's, and then there's some of the guitar playing, King's we presume (since she IS credited with 'greater guitars', where as Darnielle is credited with 'lesser guitars'), dense tangles of minor key rapid fire fingerpicking that smoothly slips into languid drift, or more MG-like heavy strum. And Darnielle demonstrates over and over his always evolving and improving vocals, even slipping into a gorgeous falsetto on one track. And of course the songs are gorgeous, dark, and moody, and subtly catchy, the lyrics simple and intimate, a really lovely record.
We got a whole bunch of these direct from Darnielle, he's heading out on tour, so when we run out of these, it may take a while for us to get more (if we even CAN get more), so as always, best to grab one while you can. Pressed on thick vinyl, and housed in a simple, pretty, printed sleeve.
Three of the best, and our favorite, Tropicalia releases EVER, now available on vinyl again, in this super deluxe box set.
Their 1968 debut (self titled Os Mutantes, not to be confused, though it's easy, with their also self titled 2nd album Mutantes) is one of the most important and influential records of the last quarter century. Seriously. Here was a band from Sao Paulo, Brazil creating sounds with so many layers and styles intertwined, dense and dizzying, lush and lilting, elaborately arranged but so simple and catchy, who have gone on to help inspire some of the best and most beloved musical outfits in recent times. Their blending of breezy psychedelia, fuzzy delicious pop, and drops of musique concrete was the perfect infusion of experimental elements into challenging and rewarding pop that STILL sounds so amazingly enchanting, weird and irresistible. We could go on listing forever some of the bands and artists who have been inspired by so much of the Muntantes' spirit, sound and aesthetic: Stereolab, Broadcast, the whole Elephant Six scene, Beck, The Flaming Lips, Tower Recordings, Tater Totz, the list is endless. Today we even just noticed how Sonic Youth totally took the guitar melody of "O Relogio" for their classic "Little Trouble Girl". The scope and breadth of Os Mutantes influence is immeasurable. At one point, Kurt Kobain was desperately trying to convince Os Mutantes to tour with Nirvana! And while best-of collections and a few songs on comps here and there are nice, this is the kind of band whose records need to be heard in their entirety. We can't say it loud enough but just imagine us singing to you in glorious sun dappled Technicolor as we tell you that THIS IS ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL! And not just 'cause it's the one that features perhaps their best-known hits, "Baby" and "Bat Macumba". Heck we could even do without those songs at this point, the rest of this is so great. An absolute all time Aquarius favorite and quite possibly one of the best pop records EVER! You might as well just give in, you absolutely need ALL of their first three albums. Never has there been a more perfectly unique and effortless blend of bossa nova and fuzzed out psych rock as on this trio of perfect discs! In addition to this their absolutely perfect debut, there's also Mutantes (album #2, 1969) with its amazing green alien band photo on the back cover. And of course A Divina Comedia (album #3, 1970) with its slightly proggier sound and striking graveyard scene on the cover. Their "Sgt. Pepper meets Astrud Gilberto mix" holds up brilliantly across all three original Mutantes records. It's the sort of thing where we're kinda envious of anyone who hasn't heard 'em already and now has the chance to buy these for the first time!
A match made in dreamdrone heaven, one that has now spawned a second collaboration, between two of the most prolific in their field. Swapping files back and forth to create a devastatingly potent sonic brew, Nadja and Black Boned Angel have delivered two crushing epics, heavy and blackened, a sonic representation of their combined might.
Unlike the surprisingly poppiness of their first match up, this is a much grimmer beast. Starting with an almost Xasthur-esque opening, rife with slightly sour funereal guitars, a creeping wave of distortion slowly moves in like a persistent rainstorm. After about 6 minutes, the drums kick in like the beginning of a forced march towards a very bleak end. Soon a cloak of industrial strength feedback takes over everything else with occasional pounds of a drum popping up here and there. The results are somewhat like Skullflower's recent work with pulverizing feedback and a harsh grinding feel. Eventually, the blankets of distortion subside and the song ends with a low rumbling sound and a sustained burst of high pitched skree. The second number here opens with a low hum that constantly turns on itself before a sloooooooooooow dirgey beat comes in, taking the on its strange circular path. Some heavy subsonic riffs enter the picture at the 13 minute mark, merging with the rest of the fuzzed out drones, and the song becomes so heavy that it seems like at any moment it might collapse on itself due to the sheer density of it all. Still, a discernible melody cuts through to bring the piece to its SUNNO)))-styled conclusion, 26 minutes later. Whew.
Perfect listening for anyone looking to get lost in the epic sonic sludge of these two masters.
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Record number two from this grim one man nekronoise black metal horde from Australia. We raved about the first one, Into The No-Man's Sphere Of The Ancient Days, a few lists back, but we're led to believe that a handful of you may have not made it past the first paragraph, the intro, the hook. If that was you, well, you should be regretting it now, and when you finish reading this review, listening to the sound samples, and most likely buying one of these, go back to the No-Man's review, skip the beginning and jump right in and read the whole thing. And everything will be right.
The point of that intro, and that review, and to a certain extent this one too, was that adding noise is not always as simple as just, well, adding noise. Mixing to genres, even if they're related, just as often leads to something messy and pointless, as it does to some genius fusion. And there is definitely plenty of noisy black metal, but much of it is either thick noise over shitty metal, or just metal, with the noise an afterthought. One must have a serious handle on both THE NOISE and THE RIFF to make it work. And if you hadn't figured it out by now, Nekrosov is most definitely a master of both the noise and the riff, and manages to fuse the two into something blackly transcendent.
That said however, the opening one two punch here are a bit misleading, in that the noise and the riff are kept well separate, the first, an ominous glitched out landscape of bleak minimal buzz and drone, hiss and crackle, almost like a black metal Philip Jeck, and the second track, the furious buzzing blasting "Mountain Ash" sounds amazing, only noisy in as much as black metal is inherently noisy, super well produced, the riffs HUGE and heavy, the drums lightning fast, erupting in squalls of impossible blasts, the vocals grim and harsh, the melodies soaring, even some hooks buried beneath the buzz.
The next track however finds Nekrosov returning to more familiar blacknoise ground. Deep swirling waves of static buzz, the vocals stretched into sheets of abstract whir, churning and roiling, beneath melodies lurk and struggle to surface, held under by the buzzing blackness. It's almost like some black metal song was frozen, a single moment played over and over stretched into some sort of infinite loop, but it's not a loop as it slowly grows and sprawls and spreads out into something expansive. It's almost ambient, and strangely soothing in its droniness, without losing any of its grim buzz or black mystery.
The next few tracks veer back and forth between, blown out soundscapes of samples and percussion, blurred into a windswept buzz, what sounds like ghostlike vocals underneath processed sounds of whipping winds and the click clack of a railroad, to noise drenched old school raw black metal crush, to slow burning deep ambience, to full on classic eighties style riffing, the old masters rendered in new shades of black and buzz, finally culminating in the twenty minute closer, which begins as some bleak, post industrial Wolf Eyes-an dronescape, all haunting whirs, and strange clanks and clunks, distant moans, bits of percussion and mysterious samples, building to a wall of white hot blackened buzz, sheathed in streaks of feedback and pulled apart riffs, this is the sort of shit that would put most cd-r dronescapers to shame, but it's not over yet, the wall of noise slowly takes shape, riffs emerge from the murk, drums explode from beneath the veil of hiss, the track barreling along churning wildly, riffing and blasting, but gradually sinking ever deeper into a morass of gorgeous textured noise, crackle and buzz and hiss, blown out and super distorted, eventually swallowing the blackness whole, leaving just a brief glimpse of the black buzz, before blinking out.
Fucking AWESOME! Absolutely essential. As is the first disc, if you haven't gone back and re-checked that one out already.
Killer handmade packaging too. The cd housed in a printed fold over black and white cardstock sleeve, that sleeve, housed in an oversized sealed envelope, hand painted black and red and silver, very abstract, and super striking. And as you might have guessed. ULTRA LIMITED!!! But the special print handmade versions are limited to 100 copies and we have the very last copies. Once these are gone, you'll get the normal version. Same music, mostly the same packaging, just minus the painted outer sleeve...
Non Toxique Lost began in the early '80s as a German industrial band that had stuck true to the avant-garde / difficult listening propositions to also come through Throbbing Gristle and Dome. While plenty of other industrialists such as Psychic TV and Einsturzende Neubauten honed their craft for occluded electronics with sinister motives into downright catchy tunes, Non Toxique Lost chose a murky collage strategy for metal bashing, undulating electronic arppegiations, and megaphone vocal barking. Wanton was the first album for Non Toxique Lost, recorded between 1982 and 1984 and released a year later on vinyl. There's an aggressive deconstruction of sound within the primitive synth-punk arrangements which get splattered into amassed distortion from guitar freakouts blowing out of way too small amplifiers on top of lumbering electronic loops, all of which get cut up and mangled on tape. One of the early members of Non Toxique Lost was Achim Wollscheid, who had also begun his solo project of DIY musique concrete called S.B.O.T.H.I. before developing his highly conceptual sound art projects throughout the late '90s. It seems that Non Toxique Lost is still around, although Wollscheid left many years ago. Either way, Wanton is a fascinating document of art-damaged noise from this little known German industrial project.
Limited to 300 copies.
Former guitarist for Parts & Labor, Sarah Lipstate, has been fully entrenched in her far more minimalist ventures under the moniker Noveller. There seems to be a constant round of performances in New York and Brooklyn, occasionally finding Lipstate in one of Rhys Chatham's guitar symphonies; and she has found a comfortable home amongst the boys at No Fun. Red Rainbows is her second album released by No Fun, following the limited Paint On The Shadows LP. For the most part, Red Rainbows is a darker maelstrom than the first, although Lipstate does include the very lovely track "St. Powers" from Paint On The Shadows, accentuating chiming notes from her double necked guitar which blossom against a set of looping drones. The two opening tracks are far more ominous constructs with rasping noises streaming against the pure tonal flutterings from her bowed / ebowed guitar. "Tunnels" is the suitably nocturnal piece for ebbing low frequencies, glowing harmonic drones, and ghostly clatterings bathed in subterranean reverberations. Deathprod or Svarte Greiner certainly come to mind on a track as evocative as this. The finale features No Fun label boss Carlos Giffoni, although this is hardly the overblown excess you would expect from the man; rather, he offers some growling sawtooth electronics which sit in the background against the sustained vibrato from Lipstate's guitar. Very nice indeed!
Featuring folks from some other Portland aQ faves like Fontanelle, Strategy, and Valet, Nudge seem to have really hit their stride and found their voice on this, their fourth outing. With the wonderfully melty and psychedelic vocal delivery of Honey Owens (Valet, Jackie O Motherfucker) swirling in the midst of subtle electronics and smoky instrumentation, As Good As Gone kind of sounds like some amazing amalgamation of Mazzy Star, Grouper, Windy & Carl and Nite Jewel, if they all joined forces for a blissed out 4AD inspired late night musical love affair. Dazed and hazy in all the right ways, with such a nice touch on the electronics that gives the record its unique slant on cloud surfing shoegaze glory. So good!
You probably can't find a musician with a wider breadth of sound, or more sonically varied releases, than Mr. Jim O'Rourke. During his vast career he's made everything from harsh noise to delightful pop, was part of one of the more influential groups of the last few decades, Gastr Del Sol, collaborated with Nurse With Wound, became a member of Sonic Youth, was at the forefront of the '90s experimental electronic renaissance, made some crunchy rock albums with his Wilco pal Jeff Tweedy, and the list just goes on and on.
These days O'Rourke has slowed down his output considerably so a new release is both much more anticipated as well as a total unknown as to which side of Jim O'Rourke will be on display. With The Visitor, O'Rourke emerges with his first new full length in many years and wow the wait was worth it! The Visitor is one long track clocking in at around 37 minutes but it almost serves as some kind of early morning daydream song cycle with a spectrum of nuanced sounds that make us think of Van Dyke Parks arranging a John Fahey album or what a more restrained James Blackshaw record might sound like.
The record starts with very hushed noodling guitar and as the piece goes on the sounds expand in richness as extra flourishes of bells, piano and other lushness flesh out O'Rourke's delicate guitar playing. Hard to avoid this clich�, but The Visitor really is a total journey, at first you don't really know where it's going and you're not sure if you necessarily want to follow but as the piece evolves it completely grabs a hold of your attention until you are lost in its slowly unfurling sonic voyage. Highly recommended!
