Danish doom metal, from a band who apparently don't think that calling your album "something of something" when your band's name also follows the "something of something" formula is any sort of faux pas, like for example wearing denim with denim. Something of something overkill is not of concern to them, not when they're also willing to subtitle their album "Opus 1 In D Minor". Furthermore, while we're not sure what exactly an altar of oblivion is, we might guess that sinews of anguish is the result of not stretching properly before exercise?
Ok, we're poking fun, but just to lighten the mood, 'cause these guys are really indeed quite DOOOMY. In the epic, traditional, sorrowful style of Candlemass and Solitude Aeturnus, as applied to a concept album that's about WWII - as experienced by a German soldier on the Eastern Front. Don't worry, this doesn't glorify the Nazis, Altar Of Oblivion are not that sort of band, instead this is about the horrors of war, and furthermore the horrific realization comes to this album's protagonist about just who and what he's fighting for, as, demoralized by the harsh reality of war, he shakes off his Nazi indoctrination and it dawns on him that Hitler is an evil madman, leading the Germans to defeat, not victory! Imagine being likely to die at Stalingrad, fighting the Russians for a cause in which you no longer believe, hopelessly struggling for survival because you have no choice. Now that's doom.
AoO's heavy chugging riffage does its job, creating a massive mood of depressive fatalism, and evoking the crushing juggernaut of war, o'er which this inglorious tale is spun, delivered by a singer whose stylings range from deep voiced majesty to a more biting, gritty whine. Probably his "operatic invocations & ars melancholica" are what will either make or break this for you, quite compelling to some, but mere morose monotony for others. Of course, morose monotony is what doom is all about, really, and melded with metallic guitars what's not to like if you're into doom? There is plenty of guitar here, in fact, 3 of the 5 band members are credited with "lead guitar" - even including the drummer! But, as you might a expect from a concept album, an additional '70s prog edge is added as well by the use of Mellotron (also handled by the drummer) and flute (by a guest "flute mistress"). We could imagine them playing with another something of something band, Hammers Of Misfortune.
Brand new tape from one of our favorite purveyors of 'ambient slowcore doom'. Influenced heavily by bands like SUNNO))), as well as bands on the blacker and more metal end of the sonic spectrum, Amort, have their own unique angle, at once mysterious and cinematic, heavy and atmospheric. Like most of their songs, the proceedings start out with plodding abstract piano, throbbing low end notes, ringing out and reverberating, drifting in vast expanses of near silent hiss. With hushed whispered vocals, and the occasional distant wail of anguish and oddly, NO DRUMS (although it took us a while to even realize there were no drums, the sound is so thick and dense). Eventually, the guitars roll in like some thick black fog, and the band becomes some sort of black glacial beast, slithering and lurching in slow motion. The piano picks out mournful melodies beneath a thick wash of rumbling crumbling distortion. It's definitely closer to Thergothon or Skepticism that SUNNO))), not so much a static drift as a plodding trudge, the guitars beating against each other, pulsing and throbbing, the piano pounding away, buried way down in the mix. Sort of what you might imagine SUNNO))) covering Low might sound like, or even some Mazzy Star / Khanate mash up!�Essential listening for the ultra-doom obsessed, and slow core fans looking for something a little darker or heavier should definitely check this out....
We're gonna start this review like the last one from these guys: Not to be confused with the -other- Ancestors, the noise drenched, blackened lo-fi, blown out raw as fuck punk metal outfit, no, this is something all together more stoned and groovy, spaced out and ROCK.
Ok, with that out of the way, let's talk. This Ancestors, hailing from Los Angeles (um, wait, might that be where the -other- Ancestors are also from? Maybe?), takes the whole prog-metal approach that so many bands attempt and does it, frankly, WAY better than most. Like, you can tell Ancestors actually listen to prog rock, not just Neurosis-informed metal bands showing off proggy chops merely because it is the latest thing. In fact, there are certain moments of majestic grandeur on Of Sound Mind that many metalheads would have been embarrassed by just a few years ago. We sure are glad things have changed, because this stuff is really hitting the spot, and one of the band's greatest strengths is their prowess with amazing sounding keyboards. There are tons of swirling, distorted Hammond-style organs and fuckloads of buzzy synthesized goodness. Of course, the rest of the band really have it together as well, what, with all the epic guitar solos and the awesome rhythm section. Along with bands like UFOmammut and Titan, Ancestors are one of the more impressive bands to offer up music that perfectly merges progged out, atmospheric heaviosity with CRUSHING, grooving metal in the vein of the Melvins (the dude sounds quite like King Buzzo, in fact), Neurosis, and the like. Thankfully, things never get too proggy for their own good, and more than anything, you will be digging this collection of lumbering, epic songs that effortlessly chug into double digit time limits, sometimes separated by cool keyboard-centric interludes. The songs are long enough to take you all kinds of places, and the structures are sufficiently out there and complex, perfectly utilizing the cd/double lp format over the course of 71 minutes, making Of Sound Mind one of those perfect albums for late night, lonely listening.
A while ago we found a cd-r by this mysterious heavy space rock band (they hail from San Diego as it turns out) and thought it was pretty cool. Probably should have tracked 'em down for the store, but never did, sorry. Thankfully however, Astra have popped up again, this time with a proper cd release on the English metal/doom/psych label Rise Above!�(Issued domestically now by Metal Blade.)
Astra is for anyone into the sounds of prog rock yesteryear (i.e. a lot of AQ customers, and us!) especially of the more Floydian, spaced out variety loaded with Mellotron, Moog, Arp, and other tasty synthesizer wooshery. Some flute also makes an appearance which we always like. The eight epic tracks here very obviously hark back to bands like King Crimson and Yes (note the Roger Dean alike cover).
Astra's melodic vocals also sound quite authentically seventies, mellow and moody and sad, which feeds into the doomy feel you might expect from a Rise Above release, this is at least slightly doomy, in a very old school way, with the keyboards getting Uriah Heepish at times. And like we said, they're obviously fans of the band who arguably wrote the first ever metal and/or doom track, King Crimson, whose "21st Century Schizoid Man" predates even Black Sabbath. Speaking of metal, and keyboards, we might recommend this to those into the most recent, most proggy output of local avant metal fave Hammers Of Misfortune. And also to fans of other "young prog" acts we've listed, like England's Diagonal and Sweden's Gosta Berlings Saga. Everything old is new again, maybe it's not that "progressive" anymore in the truest sense of the word, but it's still a sound we like to hear, and bands like Astra and the others mentioned manage to keep the '70s prog spirit alive without seeming too cheesy or pretentiously ponytailed about it. It helps of course that it's on the heavy side, though not to the extent of our favorite San Diego heavy space prog act, Tarantula Hawk (whatever happened to them????).
On a sticker affixed to the cd's shrinkwrap, Lou B. proclaims this to be "A cross between Folk Implosion and Sebadoh. To my ears, anyway."
And yeah, we guess that is pretty much what this is... although we sorta though it sounded like a someone *trying* to sound like a cross between Folk Implosion and Sebadoh. Not the man himself. A bit strange, yes? And it gets stranger, the third song "Too Much Freedom" sounds like it's constantly on the verge of becoming REM's "Man On The Moon". WTF? We've always had a special place in our hearts for the slouchy heartstring pluckin' goodness of Mr. Barlow, but this album sadly left us cold and wondering if he's been hanging around with fellow indie rock vet, the hot/cold Mr. Pollard. Y'know, when he's 'on', he's in a league all his own, but when he's not, you've just gotta steer clear! For diehards only!
Now available on cd!
Captured Tracks is turning into the go to label for rad and limited vinyl pressings (and cd's!) of some of the most interesting and offbeat damaged garage pop bands around. Recent releases from the label include records by Blank Dogs, Brilliant Colors, Dum Dum Girls, etc. The Beets fit perfectly with the label's aesthetic, these are some way lo-fi reverbed out rudimentary garage pop gems with a charming kind of innocence about them. We hear a kinship with Thee Oh Sees, especially circa Sucks Blood, as these tracks have that same kind of stoned and lacka-daze-ical quality. Imagine what it might sound like if Dwyer and company did a bunch of Shaggs covers and you'd pretty much have the Beets. There is something so refreshingly effortless and free flowing about this record. Maybe it's their name but we have dreams of seeing them play live in a friend's kitchen as we nibble on snacks and they use everything in the kitchen sink to create totally endearing lo-fi punk rock brilliance.
Belgium's Sub Rosa is one of those labels that's always worth checking out. Often, we have never before heard of the artists they put out, and may never hear of them again, but the discs they release quite often become favorites 'round here: Saule, Israel Quellet, Time Control, The Wild Classical Music Ensemble, Mace... Of course Sub Rosa issues stuff by plenty of better known names as well, like Philip Jeck, but the point is, when its someone we don't know on Sub Rosa, we have learned we'd still better pay attention, it might be amazing!
Which is all by way of saying that we had no idea who Pierre Berthet was or what to expect from him, except it was on Sub Rosa, and maybe the disc's title held a clue: Extended Loudspeakers. That sounds potentially cool, right? And it is, if you're into subtle, active droneworks! This is a recording of a sound installation from a Belgian art gallery, and while it would probably be really neat to witness Berthet's whole sonic apparatus in person, it's quite good as a compact disc recording too! We might as well quote the handwritten note printed inside the digipack, as Berthlet can probably do a better job of explaining his elaborate "extended loudspeakers" set up than we can: "An 'extended loudspeaker' is a loudspeaker with as less membrane as possible connected with long steel wires to a net of metal cans resonators. Inputs are sine waves, feedbacks and radio. At the end of the piece, steel wires are also vibrated with a small low tension electric motor equipped with a flexible fan." He also explains that "the piece starts with drops falling on small tin cans." And, additionally, there's helpful, and rather cute, simple stickfigure illustrations diagramming the thing visually. So now you know how these sounds were sourced, sort of, but listening to it, your imagination will doubtless delve further into the fantastical, because the overall effect of Berthet's creation is one of mysteriousness. There's passages of bell-like ringing, layered rainfall rhythms that beat with and against each other, accompanied by wavering, high-end drones, quite trance inducing. Elsewhere in the piece (which lasts for about an hour, arbitrarily indexed into seven tracks on the cd for listening convenience) the chiming, dripping sounds fade into something more spacious and abstract and arrhythmic, whilst the drone-tones of feedback grow more present and prominent, but still pleasant... it's beautiful stuff, calm, soothing, mesmeric. (But maybe only for drone-heads, I was playing this at low volume in the car, driving someplace with my dad, and he thought either something was wrong with the stereo or his hearing aid, but then again he'd say that about almost any music we like here.)
At times Berthet's cans, wires, membranes, fans, and drip devices conjure up the prayerful practice of meditative monks, or the massed rhythms of a Far Eastern percussion ensemble, or the delicate hum of Japanese onkyo experimentalists. Meanwhile his methods recall the resonating wires of composer Arnold Dreyblatt, and the unique "mechano" of another Pierre, Bastien (with both of whom Berthet has worked, it turns out).
So, glad we paid attention this time, 'cause actually this ain't Berthet's first disc for Sub Rosa we now realize, and he has another on Sonoris too, so we'll have to check those out as well, since this one really is one of the loveliest and most intriguing, ever-changing sound installation / drone recordings we've heard in a while.
If you've never heard Big Star before, and you've got $80 to burn, buy this NOW. You could probably buy the three records proper on their own for way less, but odds are, once you dig in to Big Star, you're gonna become obsessed, and want everything you can get. They're that kind of band, and these songs are just so goddamn good. Even if you're not familiar with Big Star, you are almost for sure familiar with about a million bands who owe everything they are to this legendary Southern power pop band. And we're not talking bubblegum pop, Big Star wrote dark and serious songs, emotional and super personal, able to rock with the best of them, but also able to weave gorgeous minimal intimate tales of love and loss and death. You've no doubt heard some of these songs before, even if you didn't realize it was them.
Keep An Eye On The Sky includes some of their best tracks from all three of their records, but also tacks on FIFTY TWO unreleased tracks, demos, alternate takes, live tracks, as well as the only existing film footage of the band. The packaging is deluxe and gorgeous and expansive, a huge fold out book jammed with liner notes and photos, this is a great introduction to the band for sure, and is of course absolutely ESSENTIAL if you're already a super fan. And how could you not be?! These are such seminal, lifechanging sounds, and this is such timeless music. Big Star are most definitely, one of THE all time great rock bands. Up there with the Stones, the Beatles, the Velvet Underground, Led Zeppelin. Really.
And really essential.
Sir Richard Bishop's latest offering of altruistic guitar ragas is thankfully not limited this time around and is mesmerizingly pastoral despite the violence eluded to in the pun-y title. Three long tracks begin with flamenco-tinged Neo-Appalachia before turning down darker, drony and dirgy paths and finally emerging into the third and longest track that combines Indian mysticism with old-world European romantic beauty. What else do we need to say? this is simply outstanding!
Do you like riffs? Do you like heavy as fuck sludged out goodness that at times reaches cosmic proportions? Do you like the band Karp? If you answered yes to any of these, then the chances are good you will do real well with the latest sonic missive from the two headed metal machine known as Black Cobra, their first for Southern Lord. Chronomega is so chock full of subharmonic super low tuned guitars, pummeling war drums, and mean ass vocals that you probably won't even notice (or care) that there is no bass. This band is INSANELY heavy, and they truly understand the possibilities that a two man lineup can shoot for and achieve if they've got the right pedigree. Considering that these dudes have served time in Cavity and 16, you can bet your sweet ass they have that pedigree. The band manages to be both loose and precise, swinging and propulsive, and one could easily imagine Black Cobra at home somewhere in the center of the earth, or maybe in a giant cave. Their sound is brutal but also quite melodic at times, and it's pretty clear that these two know what the fuck they're doing. The results are strangely hypnotic, it's as if there is an ever present hum from the vibrations of the guitar strings as the drums carry things forward into the center of a volcano.
Obviously for fans of the aforementioned Karp (as well as Big Business), the Melvins, and maybe even the more thuggish elements of bands like Mastodon and Baroness. Get this now!
Lo previously brought us the most excellent, very much of the retro moment Black Devil Disco Club disc entitled 28 After, which was (supposedly) an archival document of the late '70s Parisian answer to Italo-Disco and Giorgio Moroder. We say supposedly 'cause the whole BDDC thing is intentionally shrouded in mystery, and it's been postulated that the contents of that disc are probably partly old and partly new. It's conclusively the case, though, that the man behind BDDC, one Bernard Fevre, WAS indeed active making music in the '70s. And now under the BDDC name, Lo has re-released Fevre's 1975 "library music" album, The Strange World Of Bernard Fevre. Sort of, that is. Being BDDC, things aren't that straightforward. First off, note that this cd is titled The Strange NEW World of Bernard Fevre, and features obviously all-new cover art. Furthermore, some research reveals that 7 of the 14 tracks on here appeared on the authentic, original LP, but 7 didn't... likewise, an equal number of tracks from the 1975 record don't show up on this disc (we're disappointed not to get to hear the likes of "Hell Ride" ferinstance). But not THAT disappointed, since what we have here, whenever and wherever it's from, is pretty neat!!
Super groovy and super moody, these rhythmic instrumentals are laced with sinister synth, driven by tick-tock drum machines and thick bass lines. Eerie Goblin-y atmospheres meet the icy electro robotics of Kraftwerk. Or imagine John Carpenter gone disco. With plenty of entrancing, elegant melody to make this a good at home in the evening listen.
Regardless of whether all these tracks were composed/recorded at the same time (the ones not from the original Strange World Of Bernard Fevre could be outtakes from that LP, or other unreleased material from the era, OR they could have been produced on vintage analog equipment just yesterday, we don't know, and for that matter we're not really sure if everything has been remixed or rerecorded recently), they certainly all SOUND like they all belong together. Anyone into minimal wave, or Italo-disco, or that "So Young But So Cold" comp of French synthwerks circa '77-'82, that sort of thing, should find themselves getting all tingly over this. Furthermore, if the slinky tempos were sped up just a bit, and you did some choppy edits and/or dropped in some glitchery, you'd practically have skweee!
We often lament the state of musical affairs that would render records that are as good as anything and everything we've heard by James Blackshaw to be so limited as to only be heard by a mere handful of people. But until now that has indeed been the case. Cd-r after gorgeous cd-r, limited to 200 copies, 100 copies, even less in some instances. But music this beautiful, this lush, this lovely definitely deserves a wider audience, even if its cd-r / underground / outsider / avant folk / new weird America cache suffers accordingly. Who cares? Who -can- care when faced with the sounds on O True Believers. Over the last few years, Blackshaw has found a home amongst free noise fellows and their fans (Celebrate Psi Phenomenon, Birchville Cat Motel, Rameses III, Vibracathedral Orchestra, Sunroof!, Avarus, etc.) even though his sound hewed much closer to Fahey and the like, a stark but sweet steel string Appalachia. Here, that sound is even more stark, more spare and oh so even sweeter. The opening two tracks will have you swooning, or drifting off, or swaying in some glorious mesmerized state or whatever it is you do when you find yourself submerged in some lush swirl of tonal dreaminess, 30 full minutes of guitar, mostly just guitar, spacious and grand, lilting and delicate, no whir or fuzz or rumble or any of the other sonic detritus that usually decorates most of the music like this we love -- no this is crystal clear and crystalline, shimmering and glistening, as if Blackshaw was some strange musical alchemist who discovered how to use a guitar to describe leaves covered in dew, green grass sparkling with morning frost, the sun reflecting on a placid pond, silvery streaks of sunlight filtered through the interwoven branches overhead. It's like wandering into a lost glade, laying in a thick soft patch of grass, and slowly sinking into the ground, until you BECOME the forest around you, sinking into a warm, wash of tranquil otherworldliness. Towards the end of track two, the guitars are joined by cymbalon, tamboura, and bells, and what was only moments earlier some sort of mysterious Appalachian folk, becomes a slow burning blissed out raga, steel strings buzz, each note smeared into warm drones, then sprinkled with delicate chimes and reverberating bells. Track three is equally as blissful, but is constructed quite differently, the guitar lines speed up and become intense and intricate tangles of notes, so snug that the melodies blur and stretch out melodic whirs, while lush major key swells, ebb and flow in the background, a swaying swooning sweetness. The final track is almost jubilant by comparison and 'rocks' as much as any foresty free folk Appalachia can be thought to rock, dense steel string strums, a simple percussive framework of cymbals and chimes, the whole thing wrapped in the wonderfully warm wheeze of a harmonium, adding a thick warm fuzzy patina to the sparkling steel shimmer beneath.
Aaahhhhhhhh!!! It's the sound of Japan's Boredoms at their heavily percussive, psychedelically tranced-out best. Making the case for the Boredoms being one of the most original and inspirational bands of the past 25 years in might be easier in a review of one of their "proper" albums, rather than in a review of one from their often (extra-) confounding Super Roots series. On the other hand, this particular installment in the Super Roots saga is one that some folks totally new to the Boredoms may want to pick up, as features a pretty crucial remix from Swedish disco DJ of the moment, Lindstrom! So we thought we'd just mention that if this is in fact your first experience with the Boredoms, and you like what you hear here, you have a lot of catching up to do in the their discography (with lots of surprises in store for you therein as well, we recommend working backwards so as not to endure the immediate shock of jumping in with their early, Butthole Surfers style cacophony).
Super Roots 10 is basically one song, "Ant 10", prefaced by a brief seemingly silent track called "Super Rooy" (?). Glimmering and sparkling, "Ant 10" is a cosmic, rhythmic, ecstatic Bore-jam rocketing to the heavens, fueled by voice, drums, synth and effects, pretty much just what we expect (and want) from the Boredoms these days. The original track is 9 and a half minutes long. But what really makes it interesting is the continuation of it, over the remainder of this cd, via various variant mixes. "Ant 10" just keeps going and going and going, morphing into ever more freaky and groovy iterations, provided by Lindstrom, DJ Finger Hat (who is probably Eye from the Boredoms, since we can't find any reference to Finger Hat online that's NOT about this disc), and DJ Altz, whom you might recall from his Roland Young remix disc we listed recently on the EM label. The Altz and Finger Hat mixes bring in some additional techno house-y four on the floor thump, though Altz's first mix (he got to do two), "Ant 10/Estereo 10" is notable for the repeated figure of severe synth jabs, sizzling and droning and somewhat jarring, that he introduces into the track at the beginning. Meanwhile DJ Finger Hat's mix goes for more of a shimmery sheen. The Lindstrom mix is the one that made Irwin here remark that this sounds like "the Boredoms go to a disco", and also that it's rad, and it's WAY funkier than the other tracks, though equally as chaotic and complex. Cool, though we'd have to guess that the percentage of actual Boredoms source material in this percolating cut is less than the rest. Then, the throbbing, hypnotic appeal of the Boredoms in general and "Ant 10" in particular is accentuated by the final remix, Altz's "Ant 10/Mineral Dub Break", which also indulges in some cool cut-ups of the more or less wordless vocal. But, heck, discussing these tracks individually is almost silly since they all flow together, Super Roots 10 being a Technicolor trip from start to finish.
FYI this came out originally earlier this year on cd and vinyl both in Japan, the cd now out of print, and for some reason this domestic US version via Thrill Jockey is vinyl-only, maybe 'cause then there's more room for Eye's colorful art. And, naturally, somewhat limited too.
Does the Carter Family really need any introduction? Family Patriarch, A.P., his wife Sara, and their sister-in-law Maybelle are probably the most influential country music band of all time, and with good reason. Well-versed in hundreds of British and Appalachian folk songs that A.P. collected in their native Virginia, they managed to save these timeless songs for generations to come. Bluegrass music pretty much wouldn't have existed without the Carter Family. First playing as a husband and wife duo in 1915, they didn't get label notice until the addition of A.P.'s brother's wife, Maybelle (June Carter Cash's mother!) on guitar in 1926 right before they first signed to Victor. They stayed active until 1956 even during bouts of financial stress from the Great Depression and A.P. and Sara's divorce in 1939. This beautiful record compiles the best of the early Victor recordings, including their hits, "Single Girl, Married Girl", "Wabash Cannonball" and "Keep on The Sunny Side of Life". What we find most amazing about the Carter Family is their consistent use of Nature as spiritual metaphor. Though their songs are rooted in the Gospel tradition, the positive force of God is always represented lyrically by the Sun, Trees, and The Sea. This no doubt added to their populist appeal, especially in the folk revival of the fifties and sixties. Essential!! Go Monk label, go!
Easily, one of the most important reissues of 2006, East Of The Sun available again though Andrew Chalk's own Faraway Press, complete with breathtakingly resplendent packaging: a silkscreened and embossed printing. These recordings originally came out in 1994 as a cassette, released through Ora's in-house label, Ora being an early collective that revolved around Chalk, Colin Potter, and Darren Tate with occasional assistance from Jonathan Coleclough, mnortham, Lol Coxhill, and a handful of like-minded British drone enthusiasts. A few years later, the Italian label Hic Sunt Leones convinced Chalk to reissue the cassette in digital form. That CD version of East Of The Sun compressed the two sides of the cassette into a single 50 minute piece and was flushed out with some complementary dronescaping. Chalk was never happy with the Hic Sunt Leones version; and thus his reissue of the album returns to the original version found on the cassette, now gloriously remastered in its entirety. For those persnickety types, the 17 minutes or so which concluded the Hic Sunt Leones version is not here; but that is a minor loss compared to the pinnacle of drone-based minimalism found here.
Sure, Eno's ambient records On Land and Thursday Afternoon were milestones in the realm of ambient music, setting an impressionist context through which any number of the images, thoughts, and ideals could be imagined; but that strategy was perfected by Andrew Chalk on a couple of records. There was his ephemeral album Sumac in collaboration with Jonathan Coleclough, there was the first Mirror album Eye Of The Storm, and there's East Of The Sun. Very dark without becoming unbearably cold, East Of The Sun is a constant bloom of nocturnal frequencies, whose origins may be thoroughly blurred bass guitar or possibly some resonant artifact from Chalk's acoustic work in Organum. Regardless, the resultant drones drift with no beginning and no end, merely rippling, reflecting, and turning upon themselves in a perpetual, very slow motion turbulence. Leaves tumbling in autumnal twilight. Fog spilling over coastal hills. Moonlight tickling the agitated surface of a pond. Any of these organic references for meditation on simplicity to reach the sublime and the profound could easily apply to Chalk's East Of The Sun. Not just recommended, this is required listening.
Goldfall is Andrew Chalk's highly anticipated new vinyl-only album, released on his own Faraway Press imprint. After pretty much of all the Mirror records had been released as super limited vinyl-only editions (with a couple of those getting reissued later on cd), Chalk's recent solo endeavors have been extended droneworks that weren't suited to the LP format. He's clearly outdone himself with the packaging on this return to vinyl, as he's situated the thick slab of vinyl within a dense cardstock sleeve with a die cut opening exposing silkscreened print beneath; and he's sealed the sleeve in a delicate piece of tissue paper that also features an elegant print reminiscent of Shoji screen prints. In contrast to the floral artwork, Chalk's sound production within is a far darker and heavier experience. Sourced from the meandering piano interludes of Vikki Jackman, Goldfall is a dark, shadowy record of protracted reverberation and timbral rumblings. In comparison to Chalk's previous piano album Blue Eyes Of The March or to other exceptional piano abstractions (i.e. Jonathan Coleclough's Period or Brian Eno's Thursday Afternoon), Goldfall is downright ominous. And you all should know that Andrew Chalk + ominous = highly recommended. But you should also know that Goldfall is limited to 300 copies.
Yup, it appears that Andrew Chalk has retained the impressive workload he and Christoph Heemann had managed for their now defunct project Mirror. The River That Flows Into The Sand is the second album in as many months to emerge from Andrew Chalk's own Faraway Press. Like it's predecessor Shadows From The Album Skies, this album is a reissue of a cd-r originally released in a very small edition. However, Chalk has decided to truly develop Faraway Press into a viable cottage industry, encasing all of his work in elaborately hand-packaged constructions, that rival the original Zoviet France assemblages in terms of innovative design. How he managed to print these is a bit of a mystery, although Cup and Jim think it to be a form of decalcomania, in which an image is delicately transferred from one surface to another. Regardless, it doesn't hurt that Chalk again has produced an immaculate drone album housed within the beautiful packaging.
For many years now, the guitar has been the instrument of choice for Chalk's minimalist explorations; and here on The River, he's tightroping between the ghostly impressionism of Keiji Haino's Nijumu project from many moons ago, the narcoleptic atmospheres of Maeror Tri / Troum, the oceanic ambience of Boris' Flood, and the time-reversal qualities of Eliane Radigue. Undulations of extended sounds cascade from his guitar, occasionally rippling with beautiful half melodies. This is a a drop dead gorgeous album, and may even be better than the aforementioned Shadows From The Album Skies. We can't recommend this album enough!
The sequel to the River That Flows Into The Sand had originally been released through Andrew Chalk's Faraway Press imprint as a super-limited edition cassette in early 2006. We never managed to get a hold of those cassettes; and it goes without saying that they disappeared before we could even blink. Thankfully, Chalk has re-released all of that material on cd, remastered by the inimitable Colin Potter. As on the first part of The River, Chalk picks up the guitar for his minimalist explorations tightroping between the ghostly impressionism of Keiji Haino's Nijiumu project from many moons ago, the narcoleptic atmospheres of Maeror Tri / Troum, the oceanic ambience of Boris' Flood, and the time-reversal qualities of Eliane Radigue, all the while putting to shame every upstart drone artist with a cd burner and an Echoplex.
Just as the first River cd meanders through five variations of the cascade sound, Chalk produces another five tracks of rippling drones on this disc. Similarly, he has packaged the disc in the dotted decalcomania which graced the first cd. The major differences can be found in the gritty, growling distortion which exists just beneath the surface of these glassine drones. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!
Holy shit! Some things are just worth the wait, even when the wait is almost an entire decade! It was over eight years ago that Will Cullen Hart put out a record as Circulatory System after the dissolution of his legendary Elephant Six flagship outfit Olivia Tremor Control. And ever since we've been waiting for more...
Signal Morning is a dazzling, fucked up pop record that ranks near the top of anything to come out of the great Elephant Six movement. With a bunch of E6 folks playing on the record including the ever elusive Jeff Mangum of Neutral Milk Hotel fame drumming on some tracks. It's fuzzy, layered, crackling, and then bursting with such dynamic melodies and a triumphant spirit that's as warped as it is colorful and chaotic. It's easy to forget that Hart and the Elephant Six folks were doing fractured multilayered glorious pop way before Animal Collective were even a band.
Signal Morning is just such a charged and monumental sounding record, you can tell that Hart poured every ounce of himself into every single moment of the record. Kind of cool that this is coming out right around the same time all The Beatles reissues have been released as Hart was one of the folks to best realize how to take The Beatles sound into entirely new sonic realms, adding enough layers and undercurrents of weirdness to make something all his own out of that holy grail of pop. There is some serious fuzz and distortion going on amidst all the glorious pop music, in fact a customer who was in the store the first time we played this thought we were playing some great lost pop tinged This Heat record. Maybe (maybe) even better than Olivia Tremor Control's finest moment Dusk At Cubist Castle, and that's saying a hell of a lot! This one's gonna be a contender for record of the year, so damn great!
Why are we highlighting this fairly obscure, UK prog/pop/jazz band's one-off album from 1969? For an AQ prog-pick this Circus reissue is not all that weird, it's not really heavy (though there's some moments of killer fuzz), not from some exotic locale, not "cosmic", not a lot of other things that we normally get off on regarding this genre of music, no, BUT it's one that we found very appealing regardless, when we first randomly encountered this record some years ago. It's simply a classy, enjoyable album from a bygone era, combining pleasant psych pop rock with the freeform exuberance of jazz improv. Generally laidback and melodic, it also grooves hard when it wants. We were probably initially won over by the way the album opens, with an awesomely fuzzed out (and also swingingly jazzy too, somehow) version of the Beatles' "Norwegian Wood". Especially towards the end of this lengthy jamming track, the guitarist really wails in full fuzz-garage fashion, while elsewhere non-sucky sax soloing is actually incorporated quite effectively. As Beatles covers go, it's a keeper, and almost alone worth the price of admission! That track is followed by the much mellower "Pleasures Of A Lifetime", and indeed as we said a lot of the rest of this album is rather laid back, with gentle vocals and a melancholic vibe, though some tracks boast funky flute and groovy percussion as well, not so melancholic those, more sunny really, even with a tropical island feel.
Another highlight is their version of "II B.S." by Charles Mingus. Again, a groovy launch pad for improv, which apparently was a big part of the live Circus show, whose performances of "II B.S." and "Norwegian Wood" each could stretch out for 20-30 minutes on stage we're told. (They clock in at 7:20 and 6:34 here, respectively.)
So it's neat that this has just been nicely reissued again, as it's a minor classic in a genre that doesn't really exist anymore (though there were a spate of SST bands in the '90s exploring some of the same jazz crossover elements, we're thinking of Hotel X in particular, who also covered "II B.S." on their debut A Random History Of The Avant-Groove in '93, but we digress). Anyway we'd recommend this to those that liked previous prog-picks of ours such as Bachdenkel and East Of Eden, NSU and Luv Machine. For fans of Caravan and King Crimson too - in fact, Circus features future King Crimson member Mel Collins on flute and tenor saxophone. You can definitely hear here why/how Collins would wind up in KC, playing on several of their early/mid period albums that had a sort of pastoral vibe to 'em. Collins' career actually started before Circus, and continued far beyond KC, his quite impressive c.v. including appearances over the years on a myriad of records from such diverse artists as Camel, Caravan, the Alan Parsons Project, the Rolling Stones, Eric Burdon, Baron Rojo, Dire Straits, Tears For Fears, David Sylvian, the Stray Cats, the Small Faces, Uriah Heep, Phil Lynott, the list goes on and on... In Circus, though, he's not just a sideman but definitely one of the stars, though the guitarist gets his share of the spotlight too!
No better time then the onset of autumn to get all warm and fuzzy with a new Clientele record. They have proven to be masters of creating the kind of rich, textured pop that just soothes so right and feels like the musical version of that perfect sweater you just never want to take off.
Bonfires On The Heath finds the UK band in top form with a set of songs that flow so perfectly, as they create the kind of soft glowing sonics that are just nearly impossible to resist. Much of the strength of the Clientele is how incredibly warm their records sound, this is a band that could run a workshop on the craft of how use the studio to imbue music with an impossibly deep and burnished warmth. Able to capture both the sound of classic FM radio as well as the lush and dreamy quality of bands like Felt, Galaxie 500, Mojave 3 and the like. Makes perfect sense that they hit the road with Beach House on their last tour, what a dreamy pairing that was! Such a perfect sound to share with that special someone you dig a lot as you spend lazy afternoons together and wander through warm autumnal afternoons with no specific destination. Perfect for whiling way the days, walking hand in hand, or cuddling beneath blankets, by the fire, as the air grows cold outside. So dreamy and divine.
Alice Cohen is one of the cofounders of the Portland-based Olde English Spelling Bee label and here on her second release offers up an intense sketchbook of sonic seances. Recorded from home, these recordings were originally made as a musical diary, not intended for release. But their home-spun nature revealed, through a process akin to automatic writing, a kind of ghostly songcraft that would otherwise not have been created through a normal studio recording. Swathes of burning guitar, rockish organ and disembodied layers of vocals culminate in shadowy perfumed murk. Bits of fuzzy song-structures peek through the miasma reminding us of times of a more carnivalesque Grouper or a more freeform Azalia Snail. Drifting and shimmery but at times woozily unsteady or blithely romantic in it conjuration. building up to rapturous peaks and then sinking into sullen valleys. Truly exploratory music!
Cremations is a collection of previously released tracks from the darling noisenik / minimal wave project Cold Cave, the bulk of which had been so painfully limited that they might as well have not been at all. The first three cuts should be familiar to most Aquarius readers, being from Cold Cave's awesome 7" single Painted Nails. The other tracks came from a cassette and an LP, both of which Cold Cave's Wes Eisold released through his Heartworm Press as editions of 100 in 2009 and 2007 respectively. The description we gave to the Painted Nails single is still apt: a morose and melodic blast of blown out noise-wave, a corrosive chunk of Cure-meets-Whitehouse or New Order-meets-Wolf Eyes. The tracks that follow the Painted Nails single on this collection certainly live up to the hype of that single, standing as lo-fi, scribbled new wave tunes for simple bass-synth lines, eerie-as-hell melodies, tinny drum machines, and alienated vocals with plenty of megaphone noise and 4-track scratchiness embedded into the mix. Cold Cave also tosses in some incidental music tracks which sort of sound like the interludes from Christian Death's Elektra Descending redone for Brian Eno's Music for Airports. It should be noted that none of the tracks here have been fleshed out like the incredible The Trees Grew Emotions And Died 12" which came and went a couple months back, and we don't mean that as a negative. Seriously, how many times have we championed the shittiest recordings on the crappiest media: flexi-disc, microcassette, wire recordings, shortwave, etc. And much of Cold Cave's grit and grime on Cremations appeals to that very aesthetic of ours. In fact a lot of these tracks remind us of some of our favorite electronic punk acts of the new dark age: The Screamers, Primitive Calculators, early Severed Heads, Dark Day, etc. You won't just be hearing it from us: this is incredible!
(This IS coming out on vinyl too, eventually, but we have no date for that yet...)
No doubt about it, Eric Copeland is a bona fide weirdo! In the best of ways, as his manic and often hyper musical stylings have reached near brilliance with his band Black Dice and on his great mind-melting solo outing from a couple years back. In fact we think we kind of prefer what Copeland does on his own these days more than the recent Black Dice outings, there's just something a bit more inventive, immediate and deliciously confusing and mind bending about his solo stuff. Alien In A Garbage Dump is a pretty appropriate title considering the warped way Copeland's musical mind seems to work. Utilizing busted, broken and discarded equipment, the sort of stuff most people would throw out, Copeland sees the opportunity to explore other dimensions, reachable only by using damaged electronics, old tapes, and warped loops that feel like they've been melted, messed with and burned beyond recognition.
Using repetition often to the point of exhaustion, some songs definitely a test of endurance, yet the rewards that come from sticking it out are totally worth it! We can hear the influence of monumental 20th Century experimental compositions like Terry Riley's "You're No Good" and Steve Reich's "Come Out" and "It's Going To Rain". Yet you can also tell that underneath the extreme left field sonic fuckery in which Copeland roams he also loves dizzying rhythms and pulsating waves of sound. It's kind of like Daft Punk records playing underneath an Astral Social Club freakout. There is also a really cool Seefeel influence that he of course takes and tweaks to create a totally different atmosphere. One of those records that you can't really just hear a bit or piece of to appreciate but instead it does really work best when you can blast it loudly and let it unfold with all its twists and turns from beginning to end. With plenty of turbulence, chaos, and moments of pure ecstatic joy, this is one fucked up musical journey worth jumping on board for!
Firstly, whomever made the decision to stick to the original design and packaging for the Smithsonian Folkways vinyl reissues, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! The benign simplicity of the original Folkways records have always had the charmed feel of a true folk document, one that never needed to oversell the musical wonders inside. And this is indeed a wonder of wonders, the third installment of recordings by legendary guitar player and singer Elizabeth Cotten, compiled from sessions made in the sixties and seventies by Mike Seeger. Originally released in 1979, these are mostly instrumentals with a few songs written by Cotten's granddaughter, often referring to death, salvation and the afterlife. She even does a later rendition of her hit song, "Freight Train", slowing the tempo down, imbibing it with the wisdom and experience of her old age. Her masterful picking and chording style, developed at an early age by playing with the guitar and banjo placed in her lap, displays an earthy virtuosity that easily trumps anything from the Fahey school. As it should, coming from a poor but educated black woman who pretty much was never without her guitar, using it as a diviner of storytelling and song or just making it weep in unbridled joy. Highest Recommendation!
There's really no doubt about it, Betty Davis was the true queen of funk! While she was only Mrs. Miles Davis for a very brief time, the influence she had on him was considerable, introducing him to rock and funk culture which undoubtedly led to his amazing funk filled '70s era that resulted in records like On The Corner and Agharta. Then there's her own amazing albums. Her first two records in the early '70s, a self-titled one and They Say I'm Different (both finally back in print on cd, by the way) really are the blueprints for raw, nasty, super charged soul filled funk and they still hold up so well even after all these years, and anytime we play them for someone who has never heard them before, they invariably are instantly blown away and want to learn all they can about the force of funky nature that is Betty Davis.
Little is known about much of her musical output outside of those legendary two albums, well there was a record called Nasty Gal released later in the '70s that has its moments but just didn't quite get to that magical place those first two records did. So when we found out there was a lost album from 1976 finally being released we were both way excited and a bit nervous as we love Betty Davis so much that we didn't want her legacy to be dampened at all with another sub par album. Luckily we didn't have anything to worry about, Is It Love Or Desire is one damn smoking set of fully on fire funk! There is such strength and conviction that in Betty's voice, every word she sings oozing with sez and power and intensity. If you've never heard any of her albums before we INSIST you get those first two records immediately - they are truly holy grails of funk, so it is pretty impossible to match that level of greatness, but this one really comes damn close.
There is such a raw and hedonistic salaciousness to these songs. You can picture some hedonistic no holds barred seventies coke party with this blasting in the background as the perfect soundtrack. These jams are almost abstract in their sheer funkiness, the band vamping, Davis and an equally badass male vocalist trading off exclamations and exultations of the FUNK. So crazy to think how early in the game Davis was getting to such a raw, deep and nasty side of things, WAY before folks like Rick James, Grace Jones, Chaka Kahn, Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, Missy Elliott, Trina, Lil' Kim, and Beth Ditto would all become mega stars channeling the same sort of energy. Funk lessons don't come with more fire and sexual swagger then when Betty Davis is on the mic, take out your pen and paper because school is in session!
PS Make sure to check out the amazing photo spread in the cd booklet for some seriously scandalous photos!
Sasu Ripatti (the man behind Vladislav Delay mask for a decade now) has long touted his jazz roots when talking about the complex pixel-fizz and digi-blur he crafted above his seminal Chain Reaction records of abstracted techno from the turn of the century. It seemed a bit of a stretch; but yeah, you could hear some tinklings of jazz expressionism lurking within his liminal electronic rhythms. Jump to 2009 with his first album as Vladislav Delay in two years (there was a Luomo record from 2008, mind you!), and Ripatti has made a fine piece of noir-laced electronics that balance his formative years as a jazz drummer and his contemporary explorations with digital synthesis. Boozy atmospheres, scatter-shot percussion occasionally tightening into repeating sequences, looping organic rhythms, and dub-inflected electronics abound.
Brand new disc of narcotic psychedelic somnambulant guitar drift from Elm, aka Jon Porras, one half of similarly sonically inclined duo Barn Owl, and also one of your faithful aQuarians. Whereas past missives from Elm were brooding and minimal, they crept and crawled and oozed and sprawled, Nemcatacoa immediately sounds more epic, more song based instead of sound based, channeling both the slow burn guitar drone of groups like SUNNO))) and Vulture Club and Fear Falls Burning, as well as the epic post rock build of groups like Godspeed. The sound is much closer to live Barn Owl, humid and hazy and HEAVY, distortion wreathing all of the melodies, there's even some drums, buried way down in the mix, offering up a skeletal framework for Porras' blackened guitarscapes.
It's not all heavy and dense though, some of the tracks are breathlessly lovely, spacious and spare, the notes drifting weightlessly, strung together by hazy contrails of reverb and soft focus feedback, hushed and reverent and meditative. But often those quiet moments splinter into heaving swells of crumbling distortion, or arcing streaks of burnished black melody. The sound is humid and heady, a constantly shifting dronescape, that goes from barely there folk flutter to blurred buzz drenched haze and back again. So awesome. Definitely has us excited for the forthcoming Barn Owl lp as well...
As always, SUPER LIMITED, packaged in a cool arigato style screen printed cardstock sleeve, with wolves and trees and an animal skull, all printed in metallic silver ink. Nice!
Really? Carter Tutti and Foetus remixing Excepter? Yup, that's what you'll get on this 12" from the newly birthed Frkwys imprint (read Freakways as a play on Folkways). Carter Tutti (the re-named duo for Chris Carter and Cosey Fanni Tutti, then and now of Throbbing Gristle fame) have tightened up the jammy industrial wanderings of Excepter's "Shors Ring" (from the Debt Dept. album) within their own rhythmicist precision that recalls some of the best work they've ever produced over the past 30 years (e.g. Heartbeat, Synaesthesia, The Space Between, etc.). Mr. Foetus twists Excepter's "Stretch" (also from Debt Dept.) into one of his manic marches of bombastic drum corps rhythms and huge melodic crescendos certainly not dissimilar from his twisted anthems of old. It's hard to hear much of the Excepter sounds within either track, but the productions from both remixing agents are so strong that it really doesn't matter.
This compilation seemed to have come out of nowhere, but it's noteworthy because it collects the best of Fahey's Varrick years. Varrick, for those who may not know, was (still is?) a subsidiary of Rounder Records and in the eighties and early nineties they released a string of Fahey releases from 1984's Let Go to 1992's Old Girlfriends and Other Horrible Memories. Yes, these were Fahey's lost-in-the-wilderness years, and these releases with their bad eighties new age-y artwork and hodgepodge song selections (lots of cover versions from Rodgers and Hammerstein, Stravinsky, Bola Sete and Eric Clapton, with only a few originals) have never been the sought-after records in his huge body of work. But this compilation takes most of the Fahey originals from those releases and puts them together on one disc for the first time, spotlighting an otherwise overlooked period of his career to great measure. His originals from this period, though few, were among the best pieces these releases had to offer, from the Delta excursionary "Black Mommy" to the sad Hawaiian guitar of "Love On Waikiki". (Thankfully, the compilers left off his version of "Layla"!) This is one of those occasions where a 'best of' comp is the way to go, so Rounder has done quite a service here for Fahey fans!
The subtitle here, or perhaps it's their slogan, is "Join Our Mental Phase Sound". It's a good slogan, whatever it means, and if you wonder what "Mental Phase Sound" is, all you have to do is listen. Total Pink Floydian, Tangerine Dreamy synthesizer laden space travel from Japanese hippies with krautrock connections! The Far East Family Band, as their name definitely implies, was a '70s hippie Japanese psych/prog outfit, forerunners of the likes of Acid Mothers Temple. Once known as Far Out (they were!), they got even trippier in their Far East Family Band formation, which included future New Age artist Kitaro as a member. This album was their 2nd, originally released in 1975, and is a classic for sure (#14 in Julian Cope's Japrocksampler Top 50). It was produced by krautrock legend Klaus Schulze by the way, for extra kosmische cred!!
Nipponjin is an electronic/organic/rock ritual, a symphonic ceremonial music, effortlessly fusing the spacey synths of the German krautrock scene with authentic Eastern mysticism in a way that probably made the European hippies jealous. Some tracks are propulsive, full of electronically effected drum beats, others more mellow and meditative, with the whooshing of synths... there's ethnic instrumental twang, heavy bluesy electric guitar noodling, stately rhythms, majestic vocal choirs, and it's all quite melodic too, making for memorable music that's a prog classic album for the ages, from Japan or anywhere else in the universe. Heck the side-long title track that opens the album qualifies all by itself.
This is the first time we've seen a non-Japanese-import (and thus non-ultra-expensive) cd reissue of this, so get it while you can. It's limited to 1000 numbered copies, packaged in a cardboard "wallet" sleeve like Phoenix did for Flower Travellin Band's Satori and other reissues.
Another blast of fuzzed out garage pop from these SF noise poppers, this one short and sweet, two super hooky catchy jams, the first all old school garage rock (via the new breed of retro new wave pop garage weirdos), throbbing bass, tons of Farfisa organs way up in the mix, heavily reverbed vocals, a catchy chorus (and a pretty catchy verse as well), and a super twisted laughing vocal part.
The flipside is an Oh Sees style rocker, heavy on the fifties fuzz and the falsetto back up vox, all wound around a frantic beat, but with some cool unexpected angular atonal melodies. Probably pretty dang limited so don't dawdle, no idea how long these will last, which makes sense, a 7" is pretty much the perfect way to experience a band like the F&O's, little frenetic bursts of rocking pop perfection.
Comes with a download card too, so you can cram these jams onto your computer.
The Wexner Center For The Arts knew just what they were doing when they commissioned Bill Frisell to create a score to compliment the stark photography of Mike Disfarmer, who took riveting and honest portraits of people living in the rural South during the late '30s and early '40s. Frisell plays both electric and acoustic guitars, uses loops and music boxes to create sepia toned, twangy and haunting short instrumentals that really evoke such mystery, evoking rural landscapes and life drifting by, sometimes seeming to pass in an instant, other times interminable and endless. While Frisell isn't someone you might think of right away when it comes to aQ, his varied and large back catalog is rife with gems and aQ faves, and we're really happy to see that in recent years he's begun to lean again more towards a less shiny and more intriguing side of his musical palette. In fact, let's not forget he added some seriously warm and lush richness to the latest full length by Earth!
Backed by a badass trio, the arrangements of steel guitar, mandolin, violin and bass are exquisite, not only showing off the talent of all the players but acting as a testament to Frisell's ability to compose pieces that so perfectly speak to Disfarmer's striking photos. Imagine a less drone filled Steven R. Smith, or a more tight and focused Dirty Three, or even maybe a new Earth album, stripped of its residual doomic leanings.
The cd is a long one, pushing to pretty much the maximum length that can fit on one disc, which makes it perfect to put on for a long road trip through winding roads and desolate landscapes or for whenever you just want to get lost in a rustic glow.
Once again, Captured Tracks demonstrates why they are quickly turning into one of the only labels that matters, a practically perfect record of kick ass punk and pop and new wave, and every possible permutation in between. Just over the last few months they've given us records by Grass Widow, The Beets, Blank Dogs, Gary War, Roman Soldiers, Teenage Panzercorps, Woods and now this, latest chunk of summery surfy gloom pop from the Ganglians.
Taking up right where their most recent full length left off, these two tracks offer up more of that slightly new wave-y, very Beach Boys influenced, reverby fuzz pop, the A side lays down some wild wipeout drumming, those Wilson brothers style vocal harmonies, plenty of fuzz and buzz, a irresistible sing along chorus, and just a tinge of gothic brood, which adds just a tinge of darkness, somehow without taking away from the song's summer afternoon haze.
The B side is just more of the same, some serious garage goth surf pop, with even more of a Beach Boys vibe, lots of falsetto vox, and like the first track, the whole thing all warm and washed out and dreamy and summery.
Oh, we love love love Lisa Germano! At times so whimsically enigmatic, at others downright hallucinatorily strange. Yet even in such elliptical and cryptic manner she seldom fails to make a direct hit on your heart. It doesn't take long on Magic Neighbor to show that Ms Germano's aim is as fine as ever. A brief chamber ensemble instrumental opens the album onto her drowsy effected voice singing witheringly "It's a beautiful day..." over and over again as if to perhaps convince herself and anyone listening. Few do melancholia as she does - bleak, despairing, an endless search for solace and escape that winds its way in and out of dream states - mostly inhabiting the shadows, but with glints of sun and starlight when she fleetingly comes up for a gasp of air. The lush backing of primarily strings and piano with some unconventional percussive sound makers (that offer texture more than rhythm) is a perfect accompaniment for her singular presence. Sometimes it enshrouds her in a protective velvety cloak as on "Cocoon", sometimes as on "A Million Times" it ominously clitter-clatterily spirals up with a life of its own. The ninth track "Snow" is the album's standout though, beginning with Germano's trademark always slightly off-kilter piano playing and her singing "I love how you see things" suggesting that she's at long last found a kindred spirit (or a like-minded haven, and perhaps she has with Michael Gira's Young God label). It's a beauty that slowly take flight at a point marked by four pensive single strikes on the piano. Wonderful. Recommended.
When we gushed about how much we love the Girls debut full length last list, we talked about how much of a San Francisco record it was. Paying homage and being influenced by this great city we are lucky enough to live in. So it's more then fitting that this new single that features the great lead off track "Lust For Life" from the full length, offers a non-album track on the B side called "Life In San Francisco". The song really does perfectly demonstrate how much this city has shaped and informed the wonderful and romantic vision Girls create with their music. One of those songs that sounds as good whether it's crisp and sunny out or for those wet gray days we know are on the horizon. Never sure how long singles stay in print these days so best to grab one of these before you say oh how I wish I had......
We might have missed out on this reissue from earlier this year had it not been for Mick from Rubber O Cement commenting in the store that recent Slumberland darlings Liechtenstein sounded a lot like Girls At Our Best. Given how much we were smitten by the Liechtenstein and their seductive twee punk melodies, we gave the Girls a shot; and damn if Mick didn't totally nail it. Girls At Our Best are a little more jagged at times (sort of like a brighter version of Scream period Siouxsie & The Banshees in terms of the arrangements) and enjoy some nifty production tricks of vocal multi-tracking to give Jo Evans all sorts of call and response choruses of her lightly melodic then intensely present vocals.
Girls At Our Best was shortlived from the get-go, as the band had already broken up once using the moniker The Butterflies, but took up an offer for half-price sessions at a studio in their hometown of Leeds to record. They recorded four singles, a couple of which ended up on Rough Trade before the tiny indie Happy Birthday offered them a deal to release their first LP Pleasure in 1981. Like any self-respecting punk band of the day, they managed a BBC session though Richard Skinner and not John Peel. All of these aforementioned singles, that LP, and the BBC session fit snugly on this cd compendium of their work. By the time, Girls At Our Best had jumped from the economical single to the full album, they were tinkering around with some whimsical vaudevillian tropes, sarcastic sugar-punk excess, and anthemic vocal acrobatics. And as ramshackledly silly some of these track sound, they were much better on the punchy, dance-punk numbers like "Warm Girls" and "Go For Gold."
Not to be confused with their s/t 12" on Captured Tracks, this is also self titled, but actually a full length record from this awesome Bay Area trio, who most definitely know how to whip up some seriously awesome art punk garage rock. A bit more raw and rocking than the 12" but still very much in the tradition of bands like the Shop Assistants, Young Marble Giants, Vaselines, Kleenex, The Fall, as well as fitting really nicely alongside current comrades like Thee Oh Sees, Brilliant Colors, Vivian Girls, etc. There's such a sense of urgency and immediate energy that comes pouring out in these songs as well as a timeless quality to their approach that will no doubt give their sound a lasting power. They even incorporate trumpet really nicely into a couple of the tracks, including a slow burner called "Time Could Bend" which demonstrates the kind of dynamics Grass Widow are really capable of. There is a haunting/beautiful quality to their vocal delivery as well which reminds us a bit of one of our favorite and most underrated bands from a decade ago, Quixotic. We're definitely gonna keep our eyes and ears glued to what these ladies do because every record so far has been amazing, and they definitely seem like they'll only keep getting better and better...
Around these parts, a new record from sludgelords Harvey Milk barely requires a review. They are the rulers of the slow and low, every record equally heavy and catchy, crushing and complex, glacial and epic. And this live set is no different. Their very first European performance EVER, recorded last year, jam packed with tons of our favorite HM jams, very little stage banter, or even crowd sounds, the band just plow through song after song, barely pausing to catch their breath, and as you might imagine, it's breathtaking, and the sound is as good as any of their records proper, the drums dense and chaotic, the guitars impossibly massive and downtuned, the bass a wall of rib cage rattling rumble, and the vocals, Creston Spiers and Joe Preston offer up some incredible harmonies, incredible mostly cuz the two of them have voices like molasses being poured out of a cement mixer, growly and raspy moaning bellows, but together, they sound practically angelic (if you're imagining filth encrusted fallen angels drowning in a tarpit, that is). The sound is ace, the band is tight as fuck, what more do you need to know? Well, probably that it's wicked limited, pressed on clear yellow vinyl, comes with a printed insert with photos and liner notes from both the label and the band, and if that all's not enough, they totally nail a crushing grinding blown out cover of Fear's "We Destroy The Family"! WAY RECOMMENDED, grab one while you can...
Mayer Hawthorne is the pseudonym for Ann Arbor native and multi-instrumentalist/DJ /producer, Andrew Cohen, who began recording as the retro-soul heavy Mayer Hawthorne as a sort of joke.
When Stones Throw label head Peanut Butter Wolf first heard it, he thought he was listening to reedits of some obscure late sixties soul singles, not realizing Cohen had laid down all the tracks himself. Cohen is definitely channeling the same retro soul vibe that the Daptone label is putting out, and listening to this, he's got all the right soul references down from The Dells, The Delfonics, The Stylistics and The Moments, with the benefit of great song writing hooks. His first single, "Just Ain't Gonna Work Out", released on a red heart shaped 45 is probably the most groovy breakup song we've ever heard (It ironically get played a lot at weddings!). But our favorite track is the second single, "Maybe So, Maybe No", that shows that his hip blue-eyed soul persona is no mere shtick, but a viable modern soul force to be reckoned with.
As much as we dig the new breed of psychedelic space rockers, none of them can touch the Heads, whose sound is some impossible union of Hawkwind, the Stooges and Monster Magnet, able to whip off a 3 minute pounding garage psych jam one minute, and a 30+ minute free form metallic space drone the next, usually choosing to meld the two into super rocking, ur-psych blowouts, sprawling and heavy and blown out and EPIC.
This 2 lp live set, recorded while the band were on tour with SF's own Wooden Shjips, finds the Heads in fine form, effortlessly kicking out the jams live, BIG TIME, and in the process offering up a primer for all those young psych rock whipper snappers.
Brooding slow burn space-out to full on supernova lysergic psych meltdown, effects everywhere, swirling clouds of hazy blurred distortion, drums, heavy and pounding and rock solid, but occasionally getting all skittery and abstract, the songs slip from dirgey and doomy to hypnotic and heavy to super rocking and chaotic, the vox (when they do surface) are distorted and howled and buried in the mix, and the riffs, oh the riffs, for all the atmosphere and the vibe and the effects, the riffs slay, the melodies are insanely catchy, the leads stick in your head as if they were the chorus from a pop song, hooks buried everywhere beneath the roiling incendiary space rocking and free form psychedelia.
So goddamn good, the band's already heavy and unhinged sound gets even more far out live, the songs and sounds let loose, the unfurling into super spacious drone drenched spaced out psychedelic heaviness. Fuck yeah.
SUPER LIMITED. Gorgeous Day Of The Dead sixties style psychedelic cover art, thick stock, nice heavy vinyl, killer sound, essential...
Just when we thought an album couldn't quite scare the shit out of us like Funeral Mist's Maranatha, along comes Horde Of Hel with their debut Blodskam. And while this Swedish group may not be *quite* as terrifying as Funeral Mist, they're not far behind, which is pretty much our highest seal of approval. If anything, the over the top pornographic imagery littering the liner notes is definitely on par with the ultrablasphemous art that is inseparable to Funeral Mist, and sonically there are some similarities as well. Horde Of Hel is pretty strange at times, with totally bizarre song structures and some awesome, unique riffs. There seems to be a pretty heavy industrial influence on display, with crazy electronics going all over the place, as well as some moments of experimental ambience, but they never get too weird or arty for their own good, and no one will mistake this for anything but the most vile, hate filled, and blasphemous black metal. Plus, you know you can't go wrong with a band whose MySpace page lists their members as "KILLERS, ANTI SOCIAL BEINGS, PREDATORS, DICTATORS, PSYCHO, MANIACS, ULTRA RADICAL TERRORISTS, SADISTIC ANTI HUMANS, PEOPLE OF SURT, PEOPLE OF THE BLOOD!!!!!!!!!" Yes, please!
The band perfectly understands their craft while avoiding the cliches that many black metal bands stumble on. Perhaps most significantly, instead of focusing on speed, they choose skull-crushing heaviness. The pounding drums keep things moving at a slow dirgey pace, combined with super thick, evil sounding riffs and heavily distorted vocals that alternate between guttural croaks and demonic shrieks. At times, some of the riffs recall the heavy as fuck atonality of My War era Black Flag, which is always a good thing, and which should give you an indication of the band's nihilistic m.o. There's something about black metal groups who understand the importance of lumbering, doomed out atmospheres that just can't be beaten. Each drum hit is like being hit with a sledgehammer while the rest of the band stands over your broken body, mocking you with their Satanic riffs and crazed vocals.
These guys seemed to appear from out of nowhere, which makes Blodskam even more of a welcome surprise. We're certainly looking forward to whatever this band may unleash upon the unsuspecting world next, because when you produce something this evil, there's really only one place you can go afterwards: straight to hell.
As hard as we tried, we were never able to get in all the 7" singles that Hunx & His Punx released on labels like Bachelor, Shattered House, True Panther and Bubbledum, since Hunx began recording with his Punx while his other band Gravy Train! was on an indefinite hiatus. So we were so psyched to find that True Panther was compiling all those 7"s on a single lp, and since they're are all pretty much already out of print, so this might be your only chance to get all those tracks. Appropriately titled Gay Singles, the cover features an eye popping close up of a zebra stripe jockey clad crotch.
Hot on the heels of a long tour he's just embarked on supporting Jay Reatard, we're so excited that Hunx & His Punx gets to spread his amazingly flamboyant and sexy spirit and pure garage pop and punk perfection to a wider audience. A total student/lover of all things popular culture, Seth Bogart (aka Hunx) has become such a master of infusing his songs with playful and seductive themes, crafting killer pop jams, displaying plenty of tongue in cheek lyrics and a whole lot of skin, yet this is not just some kind of joke rock, as there is a really great understanding of true pop music, girl group sound and power pop and Ramones style punk rock. So damn catchy and loaded with innuendo and sex appeal that's sure to create a party anywhere and anytime these punx perform (or even just get blasted on your boombox!). So damn fun!
RETURN OF THE BLIZZARD BEASTS!
Black Metal legends Immortal emerge after a few years of inactivity, and we are happy to report that the only noticeable difference is that things have gotten bigger and better and FASTER. And while the sound remains relatively unchanged, the strength of Immortal's songwriting and their unbelievable musicianship are enough to ensure All Shall Fall's status as a classic that will sit nicely alongside Pure Holocaust and Blizzard Beasts.
No matter how many black metal albums make their way to aQuarius, certain groups stand out, and Immortal will always be one of those bands we never tire of. Why? Because they're pretty much better than anything and everything else, that's why. While other groups have come and gone, or changed their style drastically with the trends of the day, Immortal continue to remain true to themselves, and with the two years it took to write and record All Shall Fall, you can safely bet that the band has delivered an album that is, in it's own way, absolutely perfect. All the elements of classic Immortal are here: supercharged riffing with a nod to classic metal (and hell, classic ROCK too), rumbling and relentless bass playing, and yes, INSANE, incomprehensibly fast drumming. Of course, none of that would mean shit if the songs weren't great, which they most certainly are. They are 100 percent black metal, but also surprisingly catchy, super melodic but brutal, and fucking EPIC. And like all Immortal records, the songs revolve around the band's self created fantasy realm of Blashyrkh, with lyrics handled by out-of-commission guitarist Demonaz. Go ahead and laugh; while every other black metal band sings their stupid bullshit about Satan, Immortal instead created an appropriate metaphor for the REAL darkness and evil that so many other bands could never truly conceive of.
We could go on about individual songs, but this is the kind of album you will want to listen to front to back. Everything ties together perfectly as you would expect, the production is spot on, and the band sounds amazing as always. Definitely one of the best metal albums of 2009, you could spend some time checking out the sound samples, but do you really need to? It's fucking Immortal.
There's a whole series of these, split cd releases from the cult-minded metal label Stormspell, giving some of the new breed of thrash metal bands from all around the world a snazzy showcase, two bands per disc. Head to head headbanging, as it were. They're all been pretty cool, and we probably should be listing each one, but can't write reviews 24/7... however, we really wanted to at least do a write up regarding this volume in particular. It pits California's Infantry against Finland's Pyrotoxic... and if you know AQ, you won't be surprised to learn that it's Pyrotoxic that really got us all excited. FRENZIED FINNISH THRASH METAL MADNESS!!! Don't get us wrong, Infantry are good, but Pyrotoxic simply kill. Part of what gets us about these maniacs is their uber energetic off-the-rails speediness (they make Infantry sound slothful) but it's also the awesomely wretched and rabid vokill delivery of the singer. Furthermore, while their more chaotic approach is quite frazzled, and feedbacking, and frothing mad, amidst all of it they've got hooks happenin' too, really rockin' and rollin' on such tracks as "Nuclear War (Has No Rules)" and "The Secret Of Steel". This is the true NWOFHM!
Though Pyrotoxic are our faves here, Infantry bring it too, they're just in comparison much more restrained, polished and precise, but certainly slay it up with such tunes as "Desecrate The Church" and the instrumental "Inhumane". Heck, their half comes first and listening to 'em rage you wouldn't think they'd get upstaged by the Finns, no sir. Which makes Pyrotoxic all the more impressive.
Well, not much more to say, there's 6 songs here from Infantry and 5 from Pyrotoxic. songs, and we'll be definitely on the lookout for more from either band, but especially those crazy Finns!
PS to give you a further notion of what these bands are all about, we'll mention the influences they each cite in the cd booklet. Infantry give props to "Slayer, Demolition Hammer, Deicide, Cannibal Corpse, Destruction, Kreator, etc." We get the idea they like black metal too, since one song is called, "Black Metal", and we already mentioned the one about church desecration! Meanwhile, Pyrotoxic hail "Dark Angel, Bulldozer, Tankard, (early) Slayer, Destruction, Armagedom, Sadus".
Jacopo Di Nicola is an Italian singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist whose band is locally based here in San Francisco. Inspired by European cafe rock, Tropicalia and global rhythms, Jacopo manages on his debut cd to show a wide variety of styles and directions but keep it encapsulated as a satisfying whole. Treading a path between the baroque pop of Lucio Battisti and the frenetic rhythms of Manu Chao, Jacopo manages to charm with infectious songs sung in both Italian and English and unique instrumentation including mandolins, hand percussion, and some rather masterful kazoo playing! Nice!
Finally available again, one of our favorite weirdo psych folk records EVER, reissued, with a whole 'nother record tacked on. The previously reviewed disc, Mice And Rats In The Loft, it definitely the reason to pick this up, the other record, the band's debut Sorcerers, is just a bonus. More on that one further down, first let's talk about the genius of Mice And Rats In The Loft:
After Comus' genius First Utterance record was re-released, this left Jan Dukes De Grey as THE missing seventies psych / prog / folk holy grail. And rightfully so. Originally released in 1971 (the year Allan has determined that almost every great seventies record was released, even though he was only two years old then), this record manages to be totally brilliant and absolutely absurd at the same time. It has much in common with the Comus record, super dramatic trilling vocals, frenzied acoustic guitars and manic bongos. But there the similarities end. Where Comus took those elements and created a harrowing pagan ritual, Jan Dukes De Grey take those same elements and embark on a freaked out prog journey into utter madness. Sweetly melodic flutes, acoustic guitars, and weirdly bombastic drumming are woven into a weird and wonderful lilting British folk, peppered with an ultra-memorable little arpeggiated guitar lick that you won't be able to get out of your head, pausing once for a fierce heavily strummed riff that sounds almost Sabbathy before resuming it's sweet folky journey. Then suddenly the whole thing is thrown into chaos by a brief splattery drum break, which the band emerges from in entirely different garb. An epic journey through angular, almost eighties sounding nowave skronk, damaged seventies prog, ultra twee psychfolk and avant jazz krautrock. Weaving wildly from sound to sound, muted duck like saxophone, super distorted acoustic guitar, warbling trumpets, manic bongos, soaring strings, fluttering flamenco sputter, employing a massive arsenal of instruments: violin, cello, zeldaphone (!), clarinet, recorder, chanter, harmonica, hunting horn, glockenspiel, as well as a 'clothes horse' contraption with a hanging flat drum, tabla, cymbal, chimes and Indian bells. And that's all in the first song! Twenty plus minutes of freaked out psych-prog-folk brilliance.
The second track sounds much more traditionally seventies British folk, but only compared to the first track. Jaunty and folky, occasionally dark and menacing, with bursts of maniacal strumming, and sweet vocal harmonies, before the band switches gears and belts out a wild klezmer folk-prog shuffle that sounds quite a bit like Uz Jsme Doma. The final track is a dense and relentless, heavy psychedelic swirl, with jagged wah guitars, throaty theatrical vocals and wild octopoidal Krupa-ish drumming, thumping tribal tom toms and sizzling cymbals. Phew.
Take a dash of Comus, a pinch of the Incredible String Band, a hint of Jethro Tull, a splash of Captain Beefheart, a drop of Uz Jsme Doma and a whole lot of LSD and shake vigorously!
As if that weren't enough, this double disc reissue tacks on the group's 1970 debut, Sorcerers, which while still quite cool, is not nearly as weird or rocking or proggy as the follow up, instead it's a heady slice of lysergic seventies acid folk, lots of acoustic guitars, fluttery flutes and of course, those acidy trilled Comus like vocals. Seems unfair to Sorcerers to pair it up with a record as mind blowing as Mice And Rats, but they do work well together, it's easy to hear the seeds in Sorcerers that would soon blossom into something much more twisted and gnarled and freaky. Definitely essential for folks into classic British sixties and seventies psych folk, and a great record, but odds are you'll probably find yourself gravitating toward Mice And Rats In The Loft anyway.
Either way, this set is way way way recommended! Includes all new liner notes, as well as the original album notes, newspaper clippings, and tons of super cool photos.
John Porcellino's King-Cat comic book series reaches its seventieth issue, and not only that, it also marks King-Cat's twentieth anniversary! Wow! We're always delighted to see what curious observations and funny encounters have flown out of John Porcellino's skinny tipped drawing pens since the previous issue. He seldom disappoints. His very minimal sketches of himself, his friends, neighbors and strangers suggest a child-like vision, but the stories and anecdotes offer a far more world-weary outlook.
For a couple of years now, Leyland James Kirby has been releasing a highly acclaimed catalogue of maudlin ambient recordings culled from melodic phrases looped and blurred from old 78s. The bulk of these recordings (typically released under the Caretaker moniker) didn't seem to leave England or at least they didn't arrive in California. Now that the distribution has improved, we've finally been able to hear what the fuss has been all about. This album belongs to a trilogy called Sadly, The Future Is No Longer What It Was that Kirby has made now that he finds himself living under the grey skies of Berlin having relocated from grey skied Manchester; lo and behold, he's still making cold, rainy grey music for cold, rainy days. And yeah, he's pretty damn good at it.
As a piece of vinyl, When We Parted My Heart Wanted To Die eschews titles and doesn't even give us any information what so ever on the artwork, a paint-smeared canvas. It works as an endless loop of flipping the two records, forgetting which track you've drifted in and out of, and wondering where to start next. These pieces of blurred ambience, obfuscated field recordings, and sad piano melodies hint at the furniture music of Erik Satie, the mood engineering of Angelo Badalamenti, and the emotional resonance of William Basinski. Limited to 450 copies, these will not last. However, we have been told that a 3cd set will be emerging at sometime in the future containing the whole vinyl trilogy.
More and more every day we miss that brief period in the nineties when rock music was heavy, and noisy, and LOUD. Not necessarily metal, although to some ears it probably sounded like metal. It was more about BIG riffs, lumbering tempos, huge pounding drums, throat shredding vox. Think: Unsane, Halo Of Flies, Today Is The Day, Tad, Killdozer, Tar, Helmet, Lubricated Goat, Karp, Unwound, we could go on and on, but you understand what we're talking about.
There are very few modern bands who can channel the same sort of sonic energy without being retro, and typically, the heavier they are, the more they get lumped in with some metal subsect. But goddamn if there doesn't seem to be a bit of a modern noise rock scene brewing, bands popping up here and there, pushing all those noise rock buttons, and totally hitting the spot.
Which brings us to local boys Kowloon Walled City, whose recent Turk Street ep knocked us on our asses with it's noise rock / doom sludge hybrid. Weirdly enough, with this here debut full length, Gambling On The Richter Scale, the band somehow sound WAY heavier, but at the same time way less metal. Tapping into the rich noise rock history, and creating a disc that's both intense and punishing, melodic and heavy, and yeah, still a bit metallic here and there..
Opener "Annandale" is a churning hook filled noise rock jam, with big guitars, some killer melodies, harsh vox, wild dense drumming, some awesomely soaring high guitar parts, as well as the occasional burst of super melodic almost indie rock, before lurching back into the chug and crush. The sound definitely veers closer to a band like Torche or Floor than Neurosis or Eyehategod.
The second track though totally reminds us of the Unsane, with its roiling distorted bass, looped churning riffage, and weirdly mathy arrangement, some cool dynamics and some stop / starts that definitely had us in math rock heaven. But even here, the band inject some clean guitars, and some downright pretty melody before getting all aggro again.
It's a pretty relentless record, but thankfully KWC mix it up, changing up tempos, letting the drums breath here and there, giving riffs space to ring out and decay once in a while, stretching out into spaced out slowmo ambient drifts, pulling tracks apart into almost groovy sounding doomy dirges, slipping in plenty of subtle pop, heavy hooks galore. The title track is a monster, beginning with some clean guitar strum, minor key and tense, before lurching into a fierce chugging plod, with some Maideny guitar harmonies, plenty of palm muted guitar throb, an impossibly heavy downtuned chorus, and subtle melody mixed in throughout.
The record finishes off with the 6+ minute "More Like The Shit Factory", a sprawling slowjam, the guitars droning out in long streaks, peppered with bursts of downtuned crunch, the drums never really kicking in, the guitars all intertwined and layered, beating against each other, a cloud of swirling overtones, while the vocals howl, the drums sporadically pound, eventually everything dropping out entirely, leaving just a blown out psychedelic dual guitar drone, which crumbles and gradually fades out over the last minute, although. we'd have been perfectly happy had they let those guitars drone endlessly and fill up the rest of the record. Next time maybe.
So yeah, if you're in the market for some heavy, catchy as fuck, NOISE ROCK, okay, maybe call it metal, then Gambling On The Richter Scale is IT, and by the sounds of this record, they probably destroy live. On that same label that that brought us Catalyst, another bad ass noise rock band well worth checking out.
Packaged in full color gloss varnished jackets, pressed on colored vinyl (either clear, or black/silver haze), comes with a cd version of the record (it's an actual cd not a cd-r) housed in a separate hand screened sleeve. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!
