A seriously corrosive chunk of ultra blown out frenzied power violence from down under. Or as the sleeve proclaims over and over around the border "raw-grind-violence". And that's just what this is, violent, raw, and grind. Recorded live on the radio, 7 tracks, 12 minutes, of buzzing blown out riffage, churning chugging guitars, screeched shrieks, bellowed howls, furious octopoidal drumming, relentless blastbeats, pounding doomy plod, all wound up into a face melting explosion of power violence fury.
Fans of any of the recent crop of power violence warriors will definitely dig: Iron Lung, Endless Blockade, and it's always good to know the spirit of Crossed Out, MITB, Drop Dead, No Comment still burns bright worldwide.
Super limited cd-r, pretty sure it's out of print already, we only have a handful of copies...
The return of 'the loudest band in New York' as A Place to Bury Strangers are constantly touted, and it's hard to say, just based on recordings if that's true or not, since generally, the louder a band is, the harder it is to record them and not lose the power that comes with volume. But APTBS's first record was indeed loud, and heavy, and fuzzed out and shoegazey and we totally loved it. Rumor was that this new record ditched much of the volume for more concise songwriting and a focus on melody, which had us a bit worried, but apparently for naught, since the first track "It Is Nothing" is a total amp melting Bailter Space style dream fuzz blowout, looped mantra like vocals, massive washes of blurred guitar, hypnotic drumming, in fact, somehow we ended up listening to that song about 5 times in a row before we bothered going any deeper into the record.
But the rest of the record is just as dense and noisy and heavy and blown out. The same sonic touchstones still apply, Jesus And Mary Chain, Loop, My Bloody Valentine, Spacemen 3 and especially Bailter Space. The vocals washed out and weary, the drums a solid propulsive pound the bass wiggly and melodic, but a band like this, it's all about the guitars, and they are a monster, seemingly always on the verge of careening out of control, throbbing and buzzing, soaring and screeching, grinding out thick chunks of caustic crunch, or unfurling a gauzy sheet of glimmery haze.
If anything, the new record seems more focused, the first one dipped its toes into all sorts of different sounds and moods, but this one is way more cohesive, the songs all sound like they belong together, albums like the way albums used to be, each song flowing into the next, the sequence sticking in your head as much as the songs themselves, and that too this time around, these songs are pure pop, they may be spikey and jagged on the surface, but the hooks are undeniable, and even the first time through we found ourselves humming bits throughout the day.
Not sure what else to say, other than: this record rules, maybe even more than the first one, anyone into all of the above mentioned noisemakers needs this big time, and who among the aQ faithful can resist a gorgeous chunk of blissed out drone rock shoegaze heaviness? Exactly.
If you're like us, and have been fans of The Accused for years and years and years, then this new record on Southern Lord, their first ages, probably poses some serious problems for you. For instance, no one but the original guitarist is still in the band. All new members, including a brand new singer! Which means no Blaine, whose sick vox pretty much defined The Accused for lots of folks. So yeah, how is this possibly still The Accused? Well, to be honest, it still totally sounds like The Accused, and the new singer, is a dead ringer for Blaine, and they sound fucking great, furious, grinding, thrashing super catchy punk metal crunch, the guitars buzzy and abrasive, the drums wild and all over the place, the songs dense and complicated, and the vocals, sick and throat shredding and pretty fucking awesome. Maybe Accused superfans might not be fooled but plenty of other folks would probably not know the difference. And as far as we're concerned, we're just psyched to have another Accused record to blast, and we have indeed been blasting it pretty much nonstop. And the funny thing is, the one person here who was super skeptical about the new Accused, invariably asks what's playing every time this is on, which pretty much says it all. Seriously sick and punked out thrash metal filth from the splatter rock masters!
We weren't sure what to expect from this one at all. An oversized sleeve, with Japanese characters adoring the front, as well as the sticker sealing it shut. Inside, a handful of random newspaper clippings, some oversized full color inserts. The work of a Scotsman, who once lived in SF and now lives in Japan, with a previous record released on Colin Newman's (of Wire) label Swim, and this record engineered by one of the guys from legendary Japanese psych rockers Les Rallizes Denudes... No clues at all to what it might actually sound like, but we needn't have worried, as Akatombo traffic in some seriously dark electronic throb, all deep rumbling bass, and minimal drum skitter. A strange hybrid of more modern dubstep, and old school post industrial soundscapery, the mood is ominous and haunting, the melodies minor key and sinister, the beats aren't big, although they are dense and powerful, but the bass most certainly is, we find ourselves cranking the bass on our system, and every track sets the whole house a rumbling. A super thick throbbing low end shock wave of sound, that pulses beneath the muted rhythmic pound, and the strange processed voices, the chopped and looped samples, a swirling, roiling blackened sea of low end, that sprawls and oozes. Fans of stuff like Spectre, Scorn and Muslimgauze will definitely dig, in fact, Akatombo does in some ways sound like a composite of those three. Some Eastern influence here and there, some deep bass dub dynamics, some serious industrial leanings, all woven together into a minimal/maximal songsuite of seriously deep listening blackened chillout music, a smoldering smear of some slow motion dancefloor density. We even hear some Portishead in there too, a little jazziness as well, some Bohren maybe? This is definitely some seriously aQ style electronica, a heavy, murky, lowslung late night blackend drone groove, that is more mood music than dance music, which is generally the way we like it.
Packaged in an oversized printed envelope, each one hand numbered, with multiple inserts, newspaper clippings, as well as a dvd-r featuring three video clips. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
So nice to hear a master of their craft! Even nicer when it's new material from someone who has been releasing records since the '70s and it still ranks close to the top of anything he's put out. While he will always get mentioned in the same breath as Fela Kuti (he was part of Fela's band back in the day) Tony Allen should certainly be looked upon as one of the leaders of the Afro-beat movement, not just a kick ass sideman (although he was that too!) What's so impressive is that even after all these years he still sounds passionate and filled with fire and the music totally reflects that. When we put this on for the first time we thought for sure it had to be a reissue as the sounds were as captivating and groovy as all the great '70s Afro-beat records he and Fela recorded together. But closer examination revealed it to be a brand new release and he again demonstrates that just because so many others burn out, fade, that doesn't mean he's gonna... 'cause this album is still a totally funky kick ass outing... and be sure to hang in for the closer 'cause it's the album's sole instrumental and it's totally on fire!
Shadow Kingdom Records are apparently on a quest to rule the cult heavy metal underground, snapping up a lot of cool bands lately in the true metal/trad doom genres. This list we have the debut full-lengths of two of 'em, Argus and Sinister Realm. Both happen to hail from Pennsylvania, which isn't that odd since the Pittsburgh-based Shadow Kingdom would of course wish to conquer nearby territories.
Franklin, PA's Argus are named after that classic Wishbone Ash album, and although they don't sound anything like Wishbone Ash, they do run with the dual guitar thing that band pioneered back in the early '70s, and the guitar harmonies and solos are definitely the main draw here for us. Their tasty twin guitar work is lashed to ponderous riffage and weighty grooves, over which the commanding vocals of "Butch" Balich (ex-Penance) cry out in anguish and anger. With those vocals, and the chugging metalness of it all, we're reminded of the more recent output of Sweden's Grand Magus. Furthermore, fans of the twin axes wielded by Hammers Of Misfortune, for instance, who'd like to hear that sort of thing in an epic doom context, should check this out.
PS this band also features members of stoner rockers Abdullah and the awesomely named thrashers Oh Shit They're Going To Kill Us.
Barn Owl, the local duo of Jon Porras (aka Elm) and Evan Caminiti (aka Higuma), have always tread a similar path to later era Earth, a sort of blackened twang, Morricone by way of the Melvins, slow motion soundscapes as evocative and slow burning as they are epic and heavy, dark and delicate. With the addition of a drummer, Barn Owl move even closer to their sonic brethren creating a gorgeous songsuite of Western tinged, slow motion psychedelia, dark, dolorous, warm and haunting, heavily reverbed, a sort of dark skeletal doom, rife with warm chordal clusters, gauzy clouds of muted feedback, and epic expanses of effected guitars that sound almost choral.
The mood is both warm and inviting, haunting and tense, emotional and intense. The various bits of steel string guitar are draped over dense swells of roiling downtuned drone, everything wreathed in streaks of high end shimmer, all blurred into a burnished black guitar blur, washed out and hazy, yet surprisingly lush and heavy. The second half of the record gets a bit more Appalachian, with delicate finger picked guitars drifting over deep layered drones, stately melodies unfurling like the black tendrils of smoke from a recently extinguished candle, or the fuzzy fog of late afternoon, painted deep blues and reds by the fading daylight. The record builds to a soaring finale, that revisits that choral sound, and infuses it with an hypnotic ur-drone vibe, like some glorious hybrid of Sunroof! and Arvo Part. Hypnotic and transcendent.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. We got the super limited fancy maroon vinyl mailorder version too. And as you might imagine, these won't be around for long...
Ever wonder, why are so many blues guitarists blind? Talk about an occupational hazard. This is the fourth blind blues guitarist the Monk label has featured after Blind Willie McTell, Blind Willie Johnson, and Blind Lemon Jefferson. Perhaps it's the visionary contradiction of their particular affliction, that gives them such an incredible insight into the human condition. Like biblical prophets and ancient oracles, the only ones who 'see' things as they truly are happen to be blind. Blind Blake (not to be confused with the calypso Blind Blake of the fifties) may be the most obscure of the four (at least to us), but he was immensely successful for the Paramount label in the twenties and early thirties. Hailing from Florida, Blake was known for being the "King of Ragtime Guitar", for his unique guitar style that sounded like he was playing ragtime piano using the six strings of the guitar. His technique was so formidable that it has been little copied. Recording at least 79 songs in his incredibly short life span (he died at the age of 40 under mysterious and rumored to be scandalous circumstances), this collection covers 17 of his earliest and most popular recordings and is not to be missed for any fan of vintage blues.
Years ago the Strut label wowed us with a collection of tracks from this band from Lagos, Nigeria. The disc was called Phases 1972-1982, touching upon Blo's output from their early psychedelic rock tracks to their later more disco dance stuff. As we put it in our review, first you'll pick up your bong, then put it down and put on your roller skates. Well, that's out of print, but now RPM has released this disc, compiling the band's first two albums, Chapter One from 1973 and Phase II from 1975. It's on the "bong-ier" side of Blo's discography, definitely, their earlier material being quite laidback, stoned, and super fuzzed out, especially the stuff from their first record. The trio of musicians in this group were previously part of the band Salt, formed by drummer Ginger Baker from Cream during his residency in Lagos in the early '70s. Striking out on their own as Blo, they effortlessly melded Afro-beat funk with trippy Western garage psych choogle. Afro-American influences, the likes of both Jimi and the JB's, are certainly heard here also. Wah wah fuzz guitars, sunny melodies, spaced out vocals, and rhythms from hand percussion, clanking chains and bells, all coexist here in blissful grooviness.
If you dig those Sound Way comps like Nigeria Rock Special (on which Blo appear, in fact) or other recent Afro-rock reissues like Ofege and Chrissy Zebby Tembo, you'll probably be into Blo! And, if you already have that out of print Strut collection of Blo stuff we mentioned, it only includes 7 of the 15 tracks here, so if you liked the earlier half of that comp you then need/want this too.
Built To Spill manage to pack more memorable guitar licks and irresistible melodies into a single song than most bands manage in their whole career. There Is No Enemy, the latest from these long time aQ faves, is overflowing with that amazing and instantly recognizable Built To Spill sound: twangy, swirly, expansive and super rocking. Doug Marstch's voice is the perfect foil for his amazing indie rock guitar heroics, as it drifts, soars, howls and emotes. BTS are really a band who have not made a single bad record, they are in it for the long haul and they bring a presence to each of their records that manages to make each new outing unique and special. It's kind of awesome that they have never let their music be used in films (as far as we know), as it seems like it would be kind of like cheating for a filmmaker since Built To Spill's songs have such a filmic quality all on their their own. They tap into the human experience in such an honest and nuanced way, always blurring the lines of emotions and perspectives. their songs are never just happy, or sad, or angry, but instead, are a combination of all those things, sounds and songs rife with memories, disappointments, dreams, regrets and hope. It's crazy to think how so many of us have really grown up with Doug Marstch, discovering him in pre-BTS juggernaut Treepeople, and enjoying the genesis of Built To Spill together, when some of us were just teenagers, and later continuing to listen and get so much from the music of BTS all these years later. Martsch really is like the Neil Young of our generation, there is always a phrase, an epic guitar moment, a moving sentiment, a moment of true emotional intensity that sinks deep into your subconscious, in pretty much every Built To Spill song.
There Is No Enemy only gets better, more complex and impactful as the album goes on. Some of the best songs are towards the end of the album, unlike so many other bands who cram their one or two great songs right in the front, and pack the rest with filler, Built To Spill continue to make a career out of crafting one great song after another. We've found ourselves listening to this from beginning to end on headphones as we go through our daily lives, moving from one destination to another, because as always Built To Spill really is the perfect soundtrack to our lives. And once again they've made a totally great record!
The first proper cd full length release from Evan Caminiti, who is 1/2 of drone duo Barn Owl, along with Jon Porras, who records solo as Elm. It seems like Elm has been cranking them out, but Caminiti has too, we just haven't been able to get his more limited cd-r releases, but we're so happy to finally get this. A dark and brooding psychedelic drone epic. Four tracks, nearly fifty minutes of heavy smoldering droneguitar bliss.
Long blurred chords, arcing streaks of feedback, slowly unfurling minor key melodies, thick blurry buzz smeared into drifting clouds of gauzy shimmer, layered and textured and expansive, the heavier moments remind us a bit of Skullflower or To Blacken The Pages or Fear Falls Burning, albeit with a folkier vibe, more melody infused into the coruscating buzz, while the prettier more delicate moments recall Steven R. Smith, Six Organs Of Admittance and other folkdrone guitarists.
The record drifts into shimmery contemplative twang here and there, evoking the open road, endless moonlit nights, loneliness and heartbreak, the blur of life moving past, the glimmer of reflections set in the endless black of night, but even those moments soon expand into full blown walls of guitardrone, of sheets of feedback melting into smears of high end glimmer. Elsewhere, deep abstract ambience is laced with minimal guitar twang, moaning distant melodies, sitar like buzz, only again to build into an avalanche of crumbling distortion and heart of the sunn soft focus skree, before slipping into a coda of warm, soft meditative buzz, and dreamlike drones. So gorgeous. So recommended for fans of Earth, Six Organs, Steve R. Smith and like minded dronescapers, and of course, if you love Barn Owl and Elm, then this is pretty much essential as well.
Sometime back in 2005, Andrew Chalk manufactured a tiny edition of what had been rumored to be the soundtrack to a self-produced film entitled Vega. When several journalists published their findings about the magnificent drones housed within that instantly out-of-print cd-r on Brainwashed.com and in The Wire, many of Chalk's die-hard fans were left disappointed at the existence of what might have been one of their favorite Andrew Chalk recordings had they ever had the opportunity to actually hear it.
While Mr. Chalk maintains a very quiet demeanor and hardly ventures into the public eye these days, he's been hard at work ensuring that his recently formed Faraway Press actually keeps up with the orders for the records that he's been recording. Vega is one such record that he so dearly wanted to re-release sooner, had it not been for the inevitability of delays. It's clear to see why delays would have been incurred on the packaging for Vega, as the original cd-r was housed in a filigree of black lace surrounding a paper sleeve, which amounted to a delicate and frustratingly time-consuming process in terms of putting together each cd-r. Hence, with the second edition of Vega, this time a proper CD, Chalk has expedited the hand-assembly process with an elaborately printed piece of heavy cardstock, sporting a similarly elegant lace pattern.
As for the music within, Vega is simply stunning. Far more vaporous and free-floating than the previous solo outing The River That Flows Into The Sand and certainly more so than any of the Mirror recordings, Vega acts as an aural narcotic, sedating the listener through a constantly shifting, slow motion churn of chiming guitar drones, almost resembling the kosmische-tinged melancholia heard in the Aeolian String Ensemble's dronescaping. As bleary and amorphous as Chalk's drone-clusters are, he's always had the knack for keeping them just dissonant enough so that they do not fall into the ambient trap of background music. Sublime as ever. Recommended just like all of his other work.
The music of Vic Chesnutt has always been dark, and dour, and depressive, but there was a time where it was also sort of country, a bit twangy, when he used to have a fiddle player, and be backed up by members of Lambchop. Post twang, he explored a more pop sound, taking that folky bluesy foundation and expanding, and we definitely dug it. Lush and experimental and really pretty. But nothing prepared us for his shift to Constellation, which seemed to tap into his darker side, or darkEST side, his music immediately shifted and became even more harrowing, and emotionally exposed, and the music followed, enlisting members of various Constellation bands to help him flesh out this new sound, and it was most definitely good. Powerful and epic and moving.
At The Cut is Chesnutt's second record for Constellation, and continues to move in the same direction for the most part, beginning with the abject anthem "Coward" with its big distorted guitars, pounding percussion, and soaring strings, not to mention the lyrics. Heavy stuff for sure.
But At The Cut is not all fire and brimstone and damnation, there are some really pretty stripped down acoustic numbers, that remind us of the old days, a poppy jangly jam here and there, but for the most part, this is a distinctly dark and introspective record, with moments of bombast for sure, but just as many of inward reflection, and hushed sonic contemplation. Yet another beautiful missive from a truly tortured musical soul....
Sad old songs sung in the beautiful, pure voice of the incomparable Shirley Collins, the UK's "first lady of folk". This cd is a reissue of her very first album from 1959, recorded by her then-boyfriend Alan Lomax (with whom she travelled the American South
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!
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
Another strange cool release from the mighty MISSISSIPPI RECORDS!! Who besides being obsessed with old time country, blues and gospel, also seem to have a thing for European punk rock, a la The Ex, who have had a couple records reissued on Mississippi, and now the label has released on vinyl (of course) the very first record from De Kift, a Dutch ensemble with links to The Ex, and with whom they share some sonic similarities, although De Kift are definitely their own strange and mysterious beast.
The sound of Yverzucht (originally released in 1989) is a blast of classic Dutch crusty punk with a dash of cabaret, jagged and angular and tightly wound, fuzzed out bass, clattery percussion, dark and driving, but also frenzied and wild and over the top. Maybe imagine the Pogues, if they were crusty punks from Holland, jamming out in some crazy squat in the late eighties, and that's basically De Kift. Very cool, and pretty much unlike anything you've heard (except maybe the Ex, a little bit).
Killer packaging too, it is Mississippi after all. Thick vinyl, old looking black and white sleeves, and a printed lyric insert.
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
A companion release to accompany the MISSISSIPPI RECORDS reissue of De Kift's debut full length Yverzucht, this 7" was recorded the year before, and could very well be the first actual De Kift release, as we mentioned in the review of the lp, De kift's sound was classic Dutch crusty punk with a dash of cabaret, jagged and angular and tightly wound, fuzzed out bass, clattery percussion, dark and driving, but also frenzied and wild and over the top. Maybe imagine the Pogues, if they were crusty punks from Holland, jamming out in some crazy squat in the late eighties, and that's basically De Kift. Very cool, and pretty much unlike anything you've heard (except maybe The Ex, a little bit).
The packaging on this is fantastic, a printed 6 panel matte finish sleeve, with drawings and lyrics, the record pressed on nice thick vinyl as well.
This "extremely extreme" magazine of METAL returns with an issue featuring Baroness on the cover (their impending new record proclaimed by Decibel as 'what may be' the album of the year). Other bands featured this ish: Megadeth, Vader, Dying Fetus, Ancestors, Destroyer 666, Ahab, Doomriders, Shadows Fall, Despised Icon, and more. We are pleased to see Accept's Restless And Wild be inducted into Decibel's metal album Hall of Fame, and the accompanying story about the making of that classic album is interesting reading for sure. And we are even more pleased to see a "Call & Response" blindtest feature with William Murderface and Toki Wartooth of Dethklok! Hilarious. Plus there's all the reviews and columns and stuff, including as usual John Darnielle's South Pole Dispatch.
If you can imagine a black metal DUB record, released on Chain Reaction, then this debut from Demdike Stare might be just what you're looking for. A collaboration between one half of the group Pendle Coven, and one of the guys who helps run the amazing Finders Keepers label, the duo craft suffocatingly dark drones, and stark skeletal minimal house music, fusing the two into some sort of mysterious rhythmic black beast. The sound dense and dark, grim and frosty, but infused with all sorts of world music elements, Middle Eastern folk, Indian soundtracks, Turkish psych, the result is really hard to pin down, super stark and dubby a la Pole one minute, then lush and Middle Eastern sounding a la Muslimgauze the next, but just as often, something much more spare and harrowing, buzzy and drone-y, and very very very dark.
The record opens with "Suspicious Drone", which is just that, a dense, deep, throbbing chunk of low end rumble, but shot through with undulating synth pulses, and laced with muted effects, before, a super skittery rhythm is introduced, all wreathed in a haze of Goblin-y synth. The second track, "Haxan Dub", is as you might have surmised super dubbed out, spacious and spare, the beats clipped and minimal, until about halfway through when a second beat joins in, creating a strange stuttery offbeat, very darkly groovy. And then there's "Regressor", a super abstract sprawl of rhythmic clicks, echo reverbed ambience, and very little else, bar the occasional synth squiggle or disembodied sample, the result is truly haunting and weirdly gorgeous. And so it goes, the second half of the record is a bit heavier on the world music, with much of the music being made up of chopped and looped samples, or recontextualized motifs, like on "Trapped Dervish, where a fragment of fiddle and a reverb drenched snippet of female vocals, are blurred into a gorgeous expanse of murky rhythmic ambience, but "Haxan" gets all Chain Reaction heroin house-y, while "Conjoined" is all tangled rhythms, and layered drums, until "Ghostly Hardware" finishes things off in appropriately ominous fashion, a long buzzing low end dronescape, all whirring synths, crackling textures, and pulsing bass, never truly locking into a rhythm, instead drifting and floating ghostlike. So good. One of our favorite new electronic records for sure.
Hell yeah! We've been experiencing a pretty rad renaissance in fucked up (in a great way) music coming out of the Bay Area recently. Didimao are for sure way fucked up and that fucked up sound just hits the spot so right on. Dark and spastic, psychedelic and eccentric, creepy and crawling - this is one of those awesome bands that you really can't sum up with one quick line or a single easy reference. But of course it is our job to try, so what we will say, is that they remind us a bit of the really exploratory stuff that came out of the post-punk scene back in the day, you know, like Saccharine Trust or Butthole Surfers as well as nice hints of Nurse With Wound, Mr. Bungle/Secret Chiefs, Silver Daggers, early Boredoms, Faust, Caroliner, Sun City Girls, 7 Year Rabbit Cycle etc. Anyone can be weird and out there, but Didimao have a true psychedelic spirit that really makes this record an awesome tripped out adventure to listen to, moving through so many sonic spaces and exploring each of them in such interesting and organic ways. Their cover of The Urinals "Surfing With The Shah" is taking us to some pretty fucking epic place where punks get hijacked by psychedelic droners which is, for lack of a better word sooooo rad! Makes perfect sense that Didimao used to jam in the same space Wildildlife, the two share a similar disregard for genre and are constantly blurring and melding different styles and sounds. Totally refreshing, confusing and rewarding. This is one fried and fucked up musical missive that we highly recommend!
Even though this band is from San Jose, we had to go all the way to Sweden to discover them, not literally of course, but Swedish label Pillowscars were kind enough to turn us on to these guys (this guy actually), and their warm blissy home brewed 4-track dreampop.
Guitars are strummed, harmonics chime, cymbals sizzle, the sound is surprisingly lush, but then again, this record had been in the works on and off for years, amazing what you can do with a 4-track given enough time, the vocals are weary and laid back, plaintive and emotional, gently wrapped up in the swaying jangle and loping tempo, the bass buzzes and growls, the melodies are lilting, pretty, dreamy, total bliss pop for sure, think Animal Collective, Neutral Milk Hotel, Sparklehorse, you know what we're talking about.
The weirdest part is that the man behind Eiafuawn, was a member of legendary hardcore/screamo titans Mohinder! Who knew?
Incredible packaging, thick 180 gram vinyl, and some super striking, gorgeous weird cover art!
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
After a record on Siltbreeze, one on Sacred Bones, one on Kill Shaman, and a whole mess of singles, none of which we managed to list somehow, comes this latest full length from Seattle's Factums, a soundtrack (or faux soundtrack perhaps), that takes their gloomy gothic post punk new wave sound and gets it all tangled up with much more soundtracky elements, and it's a pretty killer combo.
So yeah, that sort of post Joy Division, depressive modern retro new wave thing these guys do so well is fully intact, but on A Primitive Future, that sound is surrounded on all sides by experimental interludes, ambient mood music, drones and driftscapes, all appropriately haunting and mysterious and cinematic.
When the band rocks, it's fierce and feral, barked distorted vocals, creepy keyboards, buzzing angular guitars, chaotic drumming, krauty motorik rhythms, darkly new wave-y and dreamily doomy and depressive, but here the band spend much more time sprawling sonically, creating sounds to accompany sights (or so we're meant to believe): shimmering expanses of soft focus hiss over field recordings, haunting stretches of gauzy druggy drift, lo-fi rumbles beneath layers of shifting grit and grime, swirls of malfunctioning music box chimes, deep muted ambient whir, murky sci-fi psychedelic swirl, clouds of abstract deconstructed reverb and detuned guitar and on and on.
Not just another dose of cold wave post punk gloom (although there are moments, instead, a spaced out abstract creepy chunk of brooding, sci-fi, new wave, cinematic ambient doom drift.
We managed to get, like, 5 copies of this mysterious cd reissue someplace. So act fast if you want one, as we won't be getting any more. Wish we could though, 'cause this is thee best doomy DIY black metal album recorded in 1987 in the basement of a YMCA building in Iceland we've EVER heard!!
So lo-fi and raw and fucked up it's amazing, with tons of cult '80s atmosphere (a la Hellhammer) and truly bizarre vocal stylings, as on the chugging, erupting "Evil". What strange wretched howlings and absurd rasping shrieks! Like, Tim Baker of Cirith Ungol with more than one frog in his throat. Musically this both shreds and sludges, in both cases clogged with lo-fi production (not helped by this reissue's dodgy mastering from what sounds like a crackly vinyl original) and off kilter outsider aesthetics. But that's all part of the charm. It has to be heard to be believed.
If you liked, say, some of the other eccentric '80s metal artifacts like Black Hole or Dark Quarterer that we've reviewed, and want to hear the "Venom" version of a band like that, this is for you.
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 return of our favorite (and perhaps the only?) baritone guitar / turntable duo The Fun Years, and another record of warm warbly mystery. Wonderfully warped turntablescapes, looped and crackly and fuzzy, the baritone guitar unfurling spidery melodies while the turntables weave lush gauzy backdrops of sepia sound.
Like past Fun Years records, this one is dreamy and otherworldly, ghostly and sweetly melancholic, the guitar manages to sometimes sound just as crackly and fuzzy as the vinyl on the turntables, the two elements so perfectly intertwined. The Fun Years side builds to a lush crescendo, a warm layered, soaring ur-drone, before slipping back into a slow shimmery outro.
.Cut Featuring Giblet are new to us, a guitar and laptop duo, who are a perfect match for the Fun Years, their sound a haunting elegy, the laptop is super subtle, adding texture and color more than glitch or bleep, gorgeous, creepy, warm and lovely, a slow building gauzy swirl over ghostly drifting guitar figures, eventually reaching a sort of soft cacophony, but even then still floating dreamily from the speakers.
Super limited, only 489 copies, each one hand numbered, and unfortunately super price-y as well, not sure why, but both bands offer up sounds pretty enough that for some folks, it'll definitely be worth it.
Much as their biggest literary inspiration, Robert E. Howard's Conan the Cimmerian, rose from mere vagabond thief and freebooter to command armies and then become King, Midwestern underground doom sensations Gates Of Slumber seem to be set unerringly upon the path of glory, treading the jeweled thrones of Earth under their sandaled feet. Bigger labels, more press, they do seem way more popular than when we first encountered their obscure, import-only debut some years back. This new cd release even boasts a slipcase. And while their rise in popularity is well deserved and awesome (couldn't happen to a doomier bunch of guys), it's also a bit of a surprise... who knew that there was such a healthy demand for their brand of true doom? Well there is, and The Gates Of Slumber deliver, overtly influenced as always by old school heavy metal, and metal-related things like weird pulp fiction and Frank Frazetta fantasy artwork (the song "Death Dealer" here is actually ABOUT a Frank Frazetta painting as a matter of fact).
Perhaps the sheer sincerity of these guys won people over. Plus for a heavy band into barbarian muscle-metal, they're remarkably emotional and sensitive seeming, their music often quite melodic and full of gloomy atmosphere. Also, they rock. The one-two punch of opening tracks "Chaos Calling", followed by "Death Dealer", is a bit of a shocker. Were Gates Of Slumber ever this speedy before? They almost sound like High On Fire, or Early Man. A killer NWOBHM/thrash mash. But, then, "Beneath The Eyes Of Mars" slows things down and gets way doomier, more like we were expecting, throwing in some subtle Dr. Who synths to boot, and that's when anyone new to TGOS can begin to appreciate the moody side to this band.
Their long standing allegiance to Saint Vitus is most evident on the Lovecraftian epic "Descent Into Madness" (the longest track here), while elsewhere they get into prog and folk just a bit, no really, there's even some female vocals on the penultimate track "The Mist In The Mourning", shades of Hammers Of Misfortune.
Don't worry, though this album has its acoustic interludes, and all-instrumental tangents, and sad singing and sweet soloing, they sound plenty tough too, ferinstance "The Bringer Of War" is a brute. And you gotta love "Iron Hammer", reprised from an early out of print ep, it's of those songs paying tribute to their influences with lyrics entirely composed of the titles to their favorite classic metal songs and albums.
Further pumped up with solid, Sanford Parker production, this is HEAVY metal that cannot be denied. Maybe we will see 'em on a (metal) magazine cover yet - Decibel did just make this album of the month in their new issue, with a 9/10 rating! And we can certainly see fans of High On Fire and The Sword enjoying this just as much as those into the more underground likes of Reverend Bizarre and Electric Wizard.
We know that usually people want to keep their favorite bands a bit of a secret, always fearing what would happen if they exploded and became huge and mainstream. But when it comes to the Gossip we really do hope and wish they become HUGE like on the radio/MTV/blasted in malls/bedrooms of teenagers across the globe huge... because they are a band whose message, energy and spirit is so needed in this world. They are the sound of triumph, the relentless spirit of the underdog and outcasts. A reminder that gender roles and traditional views of beauty need to constantly be challenged and their songs have given so many the courage and inspiration to keep on going at the darkest of times. For their major label, Rick Rubin produced debut they have seriously gone for it, and we love the results! Picking up where their great last album Standing In The Way Of Control left off, but for sure adding more electronics, pop and dance elements to their already fiery and rocking sonic disposition.
There really isn't a more charismatic, powerful and soulful frontman or woman around who can top the Gossip's Beth Ditto for dynamic presence and a voice that speaks right to the soul. She is like some amazing amalgamation of Joan Jett, Dolly Parton, Peaches, Kathleen Hannah, Mama Cass, Madonna, Aretha Franklin Missy Elliott, Corin Tucker, and Big Mama Thorton. And while the Gossip are not quite yet the biggest band in the world they are a lot bigger then anyone would have expected back when their first record on Kill Rock Stars was released, after the band members escaped the extreme religious right and homophobic surrounding of their hometown in Arkansas and took the inspiration of the Riot Grrl scene and fled to Olympia, WA in hopes of a better life. It's impossible to quantify the number of people who have been moved and impacted by their music (including several current and past AQ employees). The charged, clean and immediate production on Music For Men suits them very well, as they have always been a band that is about songs that pack a punch and keep you coming back for more and more. How cool it is that instead of airbrushed typical icons (Brittany, Christina, Jessica, etc) kids can hear sounds and read interviews with a large and in charge, queer and proud woman who like all of us, has had her ups and down yet continues to always believe in herself and give hope to all those who hear her songs. An inspiring and potentially crossover record for a band whose presence in the world continues to fill us with powerful positive energy and an undying spirit!
We're always up for some twisted black metal. The more twisted the better. The more fucked up and damaged the better. So on first listen this disc from Hamsoken pretty much hit the spot, beginning with some crumbling sci-fi synths, some growled demonic vox, weird throbbing Goblin like bass, all sprawling bleak industrial blackened synthscape, before lurching into some full on filthy raw blackened pound, all buzzy guitars, and buried vokills, twisted melodic leads, atonal and angular, but then a track later, the fidelity is cranked up a notch, and the band erupt in a frenzy of blasting tremolo guitared black buzz, gnarled and furious and blurry and washed out and so goddamn good.
We were so lost in Hamsoken's buzzy blasting blur that it took us a while before we even realized Hamsoken was in fact Nick Forte, who some of you might remember from hardcore legends Rorschach!! (Who reunited for a few East Coast tours recently, and if all goes well, just might make it out West!).
Even on repeated listens, we don't necessarily hear any Rorschach in the sound of Hamsoken, but like much of our favorite black metal, the fact that Forte is approaching BM from a whole different background, brings so much new to the table, the synths all over the place, the tracks that seem to crumble into slow crawls, the lurching almost SST vibe of some of the guitar parts, the vocals, going from murky garble to super distorted hissy howl, even at its blackest, the sound is weirdly melodic and hypnotic, doomy dirges give way to blazing blasts which in turn dissipate into slow blackened drifts. Unlike most black metal, the bass is huge, and melodic, way up in the mix, sometimes carrying the whole song, and those synths, makes everything sound all creepy and soundtracky and Goblin-y, the best moments are when the metal component is ditched completely in favor of some synth heavy crawl, all processed drum machine, moody moaning guitar melody, and those incredibly harsh vox, moody and melancholy and industrial and heavy, even when it's not heavy in the traditional sense. Those synth heavy tracks play out like some blackened coldwave band, a sound we had sort of been fantasizing about actually, a sort of black metal Cold Cave maybe, in fact, very little of the record is anywhere close to traditionally blasting black metal, those moments do exist, but tend to separate drastically different sonic environments, be they fuzzy and droney and spacey or murky and blown out and abstract, or punky and thrashing and pounding (like a couple tracks, the only real nods to Forte's punk past).
Definitely for folks into the strains of black metal that tend toward the avant, the drone-y, the gloomy, the fucked up, and especially the weird and melodic and new wave-y... wait, is there a strain like that? New wave-y and melodic and fucked up and industrial? Yeah, there is now.
In a world full of tiny labels, it takes a lot to stand out, whether it's some amazing and mysterious sounds or super unique and hand made packaging. And if anything RuralFaune as shined in both respects, a crazy collection of some of the weirdest noisemakers in the world, and some seriously amazing, and in many cases, fragrant, packaging. Hand printed, painted, folded, pasted, held together with string or wire, often filled with branches or flowers, scraps of paper, seeds or bits of plant matter, many of them very strong smelling, all of them amazing.
Well, Bruno, the man behind RuralFaune, was really getting into heavy music, and decided that maybe RuralFaune was not the place for such musics, so he started FaunSabbatha, a new label dedicated to heavy, creepy, dark music, metal, metallic, or just plain evil. Four new releases, each one outrageously limited, gorgeously hand packaged, and gone before you know it.
Heads Of Pagan are a duo, just voice, guitars and effects, but their 21 minute track sounds more like a tangle of crumbling downtuned basses. Low rumbling, thunderous riffs, slowed way down and allowed to pulse and throb, reverberate and whir, slightly percussive, the sound of pick hitting string is quickly swallowed up by black billows of rib cage rattling sound, very abstract and murky, muddy and mysterious, which over the course of the track grow in intensity, becoming thicker, more grinding, more distorted, the notes and melodies becoming less indistinct, transforming into a roiling black bass drone, only occasionally offering up fragments of melody, sharp bolts of feedback entering the fray, eventually building into a full on Merzbow style noise track, but with the basses becoming fuzzy and alien, sounding instead like synths, oh but they're guitars so it's even stranger, buzzing warbly confusional chaos smeared into a dense blackened low end blur. Heavy but not metal, brutal but still sort of ambient. Definitely for fans of the sloooooow and looooooow.
LIMITED TO 66 COPIES. In a mini 3" sleeve with a mini 3" printed insert.
We've been so excited for this one, because when it comes to smart, infectious records that you listen to over and over and memorize every lyric and melody, it doesn't get much better or more rewarding then the Hidden Cameras. Origin: Orphans finds the band with a new level of confidence and definitely displays shows the range they've developed from their trademark peppy and catchy anthem like zingers to more subdued and brooding mopers that unfold with a richness that gives the record a weight and gravitas that we've really been appreciating, borne of song writing and arrangements that are the most fully realized of their career. We're always reminded of John Cale's brilliant album Paris 1919 when we listen to the Hidden Cameras as they tap into the same kind of swirling and infectious melody, which manage to be both sophisticated and so damn pleasing. We also hear nice hints of Arthur Russell, Paul Simon (in a good way!), Magnetic Fields, and Robert Wyatt when he was a young buck back in the day. With all the success Grizzly Bear has received this year, we hope Hidden Cameras get some of that same recognition because they've crafted another of the best pop albums of the year!
And if course, this IS on cd too, but unfortunately our supplier was out of 'em this week, argh. Hopefully we'll have more back on Tuesday, and will list the cd next time around...
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
The last Michael Hurley lp, Armchair Boogie, reissued on Mississippi was gone in a flash, so don't hesitate too long on this one. Originally released in 1995 on the Veracity label, Parsnip Snips features homemade archival recordings made between 1965-1972. Sunny and warm, like a long lazy summer weekday in the country with nothing to do but sit on a porch and strum a guitar, Hurley can conjure folk magic through the simplest of means with a down-home at-his-leisure delivery. This is how we like him best, when he's his most laid back spinning humorously surreal tales of love, loss and space-weevils!
One of two new releases from mysterious UK tape label The Tapeworm. Elsewhere on this list you'll find the blown out psych garage fuzz of the Van Patterson Quartet, and on past lists, The Tapeworm has unleashed limited releases from turntablist Philip Jeck, guitarist Stephen O'Malley, Simon Fisher Turner as well as a truly fascinating reading of works by Jean Baudrillard. This limited edition cassette seems to lean more toward the mood/vibe of the Baudrillard, as it is another all spoken word release, this one a series of 3 recorded interviews with film maker Derek Jarman, recorded in London between 1979 and 1980, originally research for a dissertation, these recordings have remained unheard and unreleased since then.
The conversations are truly fascinating, and Jarman is friendly, affable, funny, discussing, film, sex, the US versus the UK, the underground verus commercial filmmaking, fashion, Malcolm McLaren, the Queen and her fake crown and more. The sound is warm and fuzzy, plenty of surrounding sounds, crackle and random bits of sonic detritus, as well as drop outs and other elements of old tape recordings, but it's all about Jarman and the interviewer, and their funny, relaxed conversations.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES. The cover art features an original drawing by Jarman, given to the interviewer (Richard Torry) as a gift.
We love the Jesus Lizard. Hell, who doesn't? But with the band's entire Touch And Go discography now reissued, we're faced with the awkward task of reviewing records that are so ingrained in our minds that we're almost at a loss for words. What exactly do you say about albums that are pretty much beyond any sort of criticism? Well, first of all, we can tell you that these Albini/Weston remasters sound better than EVER, and if for some freakish reason you missed out the first time around, or maybe you were just too young, GET THESE NOW!!! And to those with worn out copies of these essential albums, likewise, GET THESE NOW!!! The best thing about re-examining these discs, however, is the fact that the Jesus Lizard sound as powerful, menacing, and balls out INSANE as they always did and always will. There's no further need to approach the Jesus Lizard discography with some bullshit pseudo-intellectual attempt to place this band within a certain point in history (which is not to downplay their significance within time or place by any means, duh). Instead, you can simply bask in the furious glow of one of the best rock bands of the last 25 years (at the very least)!!! Still, as record purveyors, we feel it necessary to dish out a brief description before talking about the albums individually.
Shit. Where do you begin when describing this band? David Wm. Sims and Mac McNeilly, on bass and drums respectively, are one of the tightest and most intimidating rhythm sections in the history of indie rock (which, honestly, is probably not the best genre to lump a band like the Jesus Lizard in, but it sure is better than calling them a "pigfuck" band). On pretty much every song, Sims and McNeilly sound like they're walking you through the soundtrack to your potential murder, a quality that is only enhanced by David Yow's completely unhinged vocals. And what do you say about a guy like David Yow? He is without precedent and totally peerless, his crazed delivery and bizarre lyrics were the perfect ingredient to make the Jesus Lizard one of the best and most unique bands to ever walk the earth. Oh, but then we certainly can't forget the band's brilliant guitarist, the legendary Duane Denison, whose unique, super trebly guitar playing slashed alongside the band's muscular rhythm section like a rusty, disease-ridden knife. The Jesus Lizard are indeed one of those bands where every member was equally essential in bringing forth their amazing trademark sound.
1994's Down was the band's final record for Touch And Go before jumping ship to Capitol a year later. Despite its status as most peoples' least favorite of their Touch And Go albums (which certain aQ staffers will disagree with on every level), the band stills tears shit up relentlessly and mercilessly. Opener "Fly On The Wall" retains a lumbering, pounding groove with Denison's appropriately insect-like guitar buzzing all over the place as Yow tells the tale of his spiraling insanity caused by the titular character. Throw in a chorus that is the noise rock equivalent of a massive heart attack, and you know the Jesus Lizard mean business. The manic rocker "Queen For A Day" storms out like an evil, bluesy tornado, with Dennison shredding out some amazing noisy guitar solos over the ominous throb of Sims and McNeilly. All the while, a manic Yow screams out his hilariously frightening, creepy as fuck lyrics that manage to reference Dante's Inferno. Woah. The melodically charged "Destroy Before Reading" makes use of awesome sustained, droney chords and a steady rhythmic flow, and is sort of like journeying through a surreal dream in the darkest corners of Yow's crazed brain, as he spits out choice lyrics like "Mingus and Parker fuck for breakfast / cause jazz is a slut again." Right. Fucking. On. Melancholy instrumental "Low Rider" (enhanced by some maniacal Yow screams at all the appropriate moments) creaks and sways with bits of chorus inflected guitar and bass, serving as a perfect interlude to separate the album's two halves. "Horse" pummels at a steady rhythm with a cool underwater organ moving hazily under the band's nihilistic dirges, while the spacious, slow moving "Elegy" is surprisingly melodic and - gasp! - kinda "beautiful", even as Yow verbally defiles your rotting corpse with the barely composed delivery of a serial killer.
So yeah, wherever Down may rate in the canon of the Jesus Lizard to some folks, we're all for it on every conceivable level. This reissue also also includes the amazing single versions (all made available on Inch, but whatever) of the songs "White Hole", "Glamorous", and "Deaf As A Bat", as well as "Panic In Cicero" from the Clerks soundtrack. Hopefully others will give this album the listen it deserves, because there really is everything that's great about this band on full display, if you ask us. GET THIS NOW!!!
We love the Jesus Lizard. Hell, who doesn't? But with the band's entire Touch And Go discography now reissued, we're faced with the awkward task of reviewing records that are so ingrained in our minds that we're almost at a loss for words. What exactly do you say about albums that are pretty much beyond any sort of criticism? Well, first of all, we can tell you that these Albini/Weston remasters sound better than EVER, and if for some freakish reason you missed out the first time around, or maybe you were just too young, GET THESE NOW!!! And to those with worn out copies of these essential albums, likewise, GET THESE NOW!!! The best thing about re-examining these discs, however, is the fact that the Jesus Lizard sound as powerful, menacing, and balls out INSANE as they always did and always will. There's no further need to approach the Jesus Lizard discography with some bullshit pseudo-intellectual attempt to place this band within a certain point in history (which is not to downplay their significance within time or place by any means, duh). Instead, you can simply bask in the furious glow of one of the best rock bands of the last 25 years (at the very least)!!! Still, as record purveyors, we feel it necessary to dish out a brief description before talking about the albums individually.
Shit. Where do you begin when describing this band? David Wm. Sims and Mac McNeilly, on bass and drums respectively, are one of the tightest and most intimidating rhythm sections in the history of indie rock (which, honestly, is probably not the best genre to lump a band like the Jesus Lizard in, but it sure is better than calling them a "pigfuck" band). On pretty much every song, Sims and McNeilly sound like they're walking you through the soundtrack to your potential murder, a quality that is only enhanced by David Yow's completely unhinged vocals. And what do you say about a guy like David Yow? He is without precedent and totally peerless, his crazed delivery and bizarre lyrics were the perfect ingredient to make the Jesus Lizard one of the best and most unique bands to ever walk the earth. Oh, but then we certainly can't forget the band's brilliant guitarist, the legendary Duane Denison, whose unique, super trebly guitar playing slashed alongside the band's muscular rhythm section like a rusty, disease-ridden knife. The Jesus Lizard are indeed one of those bands where every member was equally essential in bringing forth their amazing trademark sound.
It's pretty much impossible to pick a favorite Jesus Lizard record, they all rule, ALL of them, even the major label releases, this was a band who were pretty much untouchable. But if we really did have to choose, it would probably have to be Goat. Head is an amazing disc, as is the debut lp Pure, but Goat is where the band finally locked into the sound that would become their trademark, a sound so instantly recognizable, that all you needed to hear was one instrument, and you knew, the crack of the drum, and angular slash of guitar, a weird distorted yowl, it didn't matter, and hell, if you heard em together, well, that was it.
Goat finds the band coming together and almost impossibly transforming into a seriously streamlined rock band, who were as tight as fuck, but simultaneously fucked up and loose and dangerous and chaotic. Due in no small part, as mentioned above, to their very dangerous frontman David Yow. But on Goat is where the power of JL's rhythm section finally became undeniable. The rhythms lurching and lumbering, the drumming insanely of kilter, but managing to still swing, the guitars distorted and crunchy, jagged and sharp, and the songs, how can music this mean and distorted and freaky be so goddamn catchy?
It's really about "Mouthbreather", the big Jesus Lizard hit if there ever was one. From the opening riff, it's the sort of song that would send a crowd into a frenzy, the drum part is beguilingly complicated, and the main hook, the stops and starts, it's relentless and overwhelming but so catchy and of course there's Yow's refrain of "Don't get me wrong, I like him just fine, but he's a mouthbreather". "Then Comes Dudley" is some unholy union of Big Black and Slint, with its low slung bass, big simple motorik drumming, and reedy main guitar melody, not to mention the awesome lurching start/stop bridge. And c'mon, "Seasick"? Has a song ever sounded so much like its title? A woozy, mathy, seasick stumble. And on and on, every track here is a "hit" in some alternate universe where people worship bands like the Jesus Lizard and not shit like the Jonas Brothers. And even to this day, Goat sounds as heavy and harrowing and genius as it did almost 20 years ago. And still better and more musically relevant than about 90 percent of the stuff coming out today. Not to sound like cranky old men on the porch with a shotgun yelling for kids to get off our lawn and for bands to try and write a decent song, but they really just don't make 'em like this anymore.
There are some bonus tracks, singles, live tracks, all new liner notes and let's not forget the amazing projector naked lady cover art!
We love the Jesus Lizard. Hell, who doesn't? But with the band's entire Touch And Go discography now reissued, we're faced with the awkward task of reviewing records that are so ingrained in our minds that we're almost at a loss for words. What exactly do you say about albums that are pretty much beyond any sort of criticism? Well, first of all, we can tell you that these Albini/Weston remasters sound better than EVER, and if for some freakish reason you missed out the first time around, or maybe you were just too young, GET THESE NOW!!! And to those with worn out copies of these essential albums, likewise, GET THESE NOW!!! The best thing about re-examining these discs, however, is the fact that the Jesus Lizard sound as powerful, menacing, and balls out INSANE as they always did and always will. There's no further need to approach the Jesus Lizard discography with some bullshit pseudo-intellectual attempt to place this band within a certain point in history (which is not to downplay their significance within time or place by any means, duh). Instead, you can simply bask in the furious glow of one of the best rock bands of the last 25 years (at the very least)!!! Still, as record purveyors, we feel it necessary to dish out a brief description before talking about the albums individually.
Shit. Where do you begin when describing this band? David Wm. Sims and Mac McNeilly, on bass and drums respectively, are one of the tightest and most intimidating rhythm sections in the history of indie rock (which, honestly, is probably not the best genre to lump a band like the Jesus Lizard in, but it sure is better than calling them a "pigfuck" band). On pretty much every song, Sims and McNeilly sound like they're walking you through the soundtrack to your potential murder, a quality that is only enhanced by David Yow's completely unhinged vocals. And what do you say about a guy like David Yow? He is without precedent and totally peerless, his crazed delivery and bizarre lyrics were the perfect ingredient to make the Jesus Lizard one of the best and most unique bands to ever walk the earth. Oh, but then we certainly can't forget the band's brilliant guitarist, the legendary Duane Denison, whose unique, super trebly guitar playing slashed alongside the band's muscular rhythm section like a rusty, disease-ridden knife. The Jesus Lizard are indeed one of those bands where every member was equally essential in bringing forth their amazing trademark sound.
Head was Jesus Lizard's debut full length, and while perhaps out heart will always belong to Goat, Head is nipping at its heels as THEE definitive Jesus Lizard record, The band had only recently switched from drum machine to love drummer, but the effect was immediate, what was once a throbbing mechanical post industrial noise rock juggernaut, was now something else entirely. Goat seemed to be where everything clicked, but Head was basically almost there, heavy and dense and mathy and now listening to this again, it's easy to see why we all freaked out about this band. The songs are gnarled and grotesque, but at the same time melodic and impossibly catchy, dark and ominous and seriously creepy, but also totally rocking and HEAVY. These guys moved the noise rock bar so high, few that followed could even come close. There's plenty of Slint going on too, hard to say who influenced who, but Albini managed the boards for both. Listen to the sound samples, heck, just buy all four of these reissues, you won't be sorry. And if somehow you've made it this far without ever hearing these guys, you are in for just about the biggest musical epiphany of your life.
As if Head weren't enough, this reissue (and the original cd version) tacks on the Jesus Lizard's first ep, when they were still drummerless, the drum machine, giving the sound a definite Big Black vibe, total Midwestern pigfuck noise rock, Touch And Go, Homestead, AmRep, the hundreds of bands that called those labels home, somehow they all seemed inferior to the Jesus Lizard, maybe they were. The Jesus Lizard defined and refined noise rock and OWNED it. And check out "Bloody Mary", Pure is sonically sometimes so similar to Slint's Tweez it's scary, but it makes sense, that sort of cross pollination is how all these bands were born, some fully formed, some slowly morphing from derivative to original, and very few, like the Jesus Lizard, while borrowing bits and pieces, and definitely influenced by much of what was going on at the time, managed to sound like no one else. And that unique sound definitely existed in one form or another from day one, and just got more and more refined as time went on, without losing any of their ferocity or integrity.
The reissue tacks on some bonus tracks, a killer Chrome cover, and two live tracks, as well as all new liner notes.
We love the Jesus Lizard. Hell, who doesn't? But with the band's entire Touch And Go discography now reissued, we're faced with the awkward task of reviewing records that are so ingrained in our minds that we're almost at a loss for words. What exactly do you say about albums that are pretty much beyond any sort of criticism? Well, first of all, we can tell you that these Albini/Weston remasters sound better than EVER, and if for some freakish reason you missed out the first time around, or maybe you were just too young, GET THESE NOW!!! And to those with worn out copies of these essential albums, likewise, GET THESE NOW!!! The best thing about re-examining these discs, however, is the fact that the Jesus Lizard sound as powerful, menacing, and balls out INSANE as they always did and always will. There's no further need to approach the Jesus Lizard discography with some bullshit pseudo-intellectual attempt to place this band within a certain point in history (which is not to downplay their significance within time or place by any means, duh). Instead, you can simply bask in the furious glow of one of the best rock bands of the last 25 years (at the very least)!!! Still, as record purveyors, we feel it necessary to dish out a brief description before talking about the albums individually.
Shit. Where do you begin when describing this band? David Wm. Sims and Mac McNeilly, on bass and drums respectively, are one of the tightest and most intimidating rhythm sections in the history of indie rock (which, honestly, is probably not the best genre to lump a band like the Jesus Lizard in, but it sure is better than calling them a "pigfuck" band). On pretty much every song, Sims and McNeilly sound like they're walking you through the soundtrack to your potential murder, a quality that is only enhanced by David Yow's completely unhinged vocals. And what do you say about a guy like David Yow? He is without precedent and totally peerless, his crazed delivery and bizarre lyrics were the perfect ingredient to make the Jesus Lizard one of the best and most unique bands to ever walk the earth. Oh, but then we certainly can't forget the band's brilliant guitarist, the legendary Duane Denison, whose unique, super trebly guitar playing slashed alongside the band's muscular rhythm section like a rusty, disease-ridden knife. The Jesus Lizard are indeed one of those bands where every member was equally essential in bringing forth their amazing trademark sound.
Liar is the band's third record, originally released in 1992. The album begins in classic Jesus Lizard form with the sonic beatdown of "Boilermaker". Exactly as we love them, the band sounds out for blood and just plain mean, despite Yow claiming "I'm calm now", as "calm" is probably the last descriptor that would enter your mind when hearing this song. Up next is "Gladiator", with the monolithic pounding of the rhythm section and bursts of slashing, percussively charged guitar work. It feels like everything in the song is the result of counterintuitive upstroked chords combined with Yow's truly insane screaming and an ending that puts most metal bands to shame in terms of sheer brutality. "Puss" rides wildly with tight as fuck, atonal guitar chords and underlying distorted backing vocals as the bass winds frantically over McNeilly's merciless pounding. In the middle is an awesome, simple Dennison guitar solo before everyone locks back into the evil groove. "Rope" sounds a bit like a manic, Jesus Lizard styled hoedown with its super fast, tight as hell playing, and instrumentation that is both mean sounding and kind of... wacky? Maybe. It's a good 'un no matter how you try to describe it. A demented country influence is also on display with "Zachariah," a slow moving piece that brings to mind all kinds of demented evil that must be looming in David Yow's mind. Closing number "Dancing Naked Ladies" brings Liar to its fever inducing conclusion, with Yow grunting and screeching over the serpentine melodies and rumbling low end.
Like all the Jesus Lizard reissues, Liar comes packed with some tasty bonus cuts (all previously available on Inch, but whatever), including their cover of the Dicks' "Wheelchair Epidemic", a single version of "Dancing Naked Ladies", and demos for "Gladiator" and "Boilermaker". GET THIS NOW!!!
Volume two of this sprawling 6lp (two lps in each volume) drone haze ambient masterpiece from the man behind the Caretaker, and V/VM!
For a couple of years now, Leyland James Kirby has been releasing a highly acclaimed catalog 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 double lp is the second in a trilogy called Sadly, The Future Is No Longer What It Was, and finds Kirby now 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.
Like the first volume, When We Parted My Heart Wanted To Die, Memories Live Longer Than Dreams also 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.
We've been trying to get our hands on enough of these to list for ages, a killer 3 way split of obscure strangely melodic blackness, released on Hungarian label Turanian Honour, featuring long time aQ faves Marblebog, Bay Area depressive black metal duo Lascowiec and Verzivatar, another Hungarian horde we had never heard until now.
Lascowiec, whose killer demo compilation we raved about a while back (which we still have a small handful left), returns with four more tracks of washed out black beauty, darkly depressive and beautifully buzzy, the music of Lascowiec is a blurred and smeared minor key mystery, remove the distorted vokill croak, and you'd be left with a deep swirling shoegazey bit of soft focus buzz. The riffs are muted and muddy, lo-fi but still lush, locked into trancelike loops, woozy and warbly and hypnotic, about as pretty as black metal can sound without ceasing to be black or metal. Spidery tangled little melodies, wreathed in otherworldly effects, distorted but not harsh or jagged, more smoothed out and blissy, the vocals the grimmest element, but for the most part, it's the music that carries Lascowiec, gorgeously mournful, and hauntingly lovely buzzy blackness.
Marblebog offer up two songs, epic and majestic, melodic too, but with some super twisted way UP in the mix vocals, that transform an otherwise loping mysterious minor key dirge into something creeped out and harrowing. The main melody is gorgeous, almost power metal sounding, albeit slowed down and draped over a monotonous doomy drum plod, but those vocals, the perfect blend of harsh and hellish, brooding and pretty. Their second track is another strange blend, this time the guitars and drums are buried beneath thick swirling keyboards, and some fucked up demonic gurgled croaking vocals. Again, the effect is the same, a sort of woozy softly buzzing prettiness transformed into a fractured, Burzumic, off kilter depressive black dirge.
Finally Verzivatar deliver two tracks of fierce and frantic blasting blackness, but like the other two bands on the split, their sound is marked by an unlikely melodiousness, the riffs, frenetic and buzzy are also soaring and majestic, the vocals here too are weird, but less black metal, or really metal at all, more like a raspy punkish howl, or a strangled mewl. Gives Verzivatar a sort of crusty punkish vibe, reminding us a bit of French faerical black metal punks Nuit Noire. Definitely need to hear more from these guys.
All three bands offer up some seriously gorgeous melodic grimness, some surprisingly blissed out black metal buzz, unfortunately this is LIMITED TO 666 COPIES, and has been out for a while, so not sure we can get more. Each one is hand numbered, with a big full color booklet, liner notes, lyrics and the works.
It all started with Poison Drinker, Josh Lay's last full length, a noise record that managed to be both noisy and melodic, harsh and pummeling, but also weirdly listenable, and kinda pretty. We're pretty particular when it comes to noise records, so for that record to kick our asses so hard, something special was definitely going on, which was confirmed with the super limited Worm Terrain cassette. Now we've got Lay's first proper cd full length, and while definitely still noisy, it's even more removed from traditional 'noise music'. Sure there are several serious bursts of harsh grinding NOISE, but here, those parts almost sound more black metal, with distorted hellish vox, over swirling sheets of sound. But those moments are actually few and far between. The first half of the title track is all synthy and sci-fi, droney and abstract, a looped electronic soundscape that eventually does splinter into some blackened noise, but the second track pulls the sound back from the edge, weird angular riffs buried beneath a sea of glitches and trills, that riff is the anchor of the song, chugging away relentlessly beneath a endlessly churning and ever shifting field of glitched out hiss, and some more of those sinister vokills.
But as the record progresses, it gets less and less noisy, and more and more abstract and a tiny bit prettier. Track three is a high end sprawl of looped glistening skree and throbbing rhythmic bass pulses, minimal vokillizing, a swirling sea of streaked trebly blur, and then the final track, which is perhaps still technically noisy, but that noise is blunted, muted, dulled, like some churning blackened sonic sea, a throbbing industrial dronescape, a little Wolf Eyes, but way less abject, and weirdly a little bit warmer sounding, still ominous and buzzy, but again, strangely soothing and almost serene.
It really is kind of remarkable the amount of direct influence Animal Collective has had on music makers in the last several years. We heard their influence on the Le Loup debut from a few years ago and this follow up finds this East Coast band still very much indebted to the sound that Animal Collective have created with their multilayered dense pop doused in reverb and bursting at the seems with harmony and melody. This time around it seems they've tapped more into the Panda Bear side of the Animal Collective equation as Family really does have a similar sound and feel to PB's masterpiece Person Pitch. Some of the instrumentation Le Loup uses does help set them a bit apart from the flock of Animal Collective followers, laying down some pretty awesome sounds with the banjo. A friend of ours recently commented that so many of today's Animal Collective soundalikes will be remembered as the modern equivalent to the Dave Clark Five in the time of The Beatles, but hell, when it comes to knock offs, Le Loup have it down pretty damn well.
Ah, the mighty Melvins, we've been into 'em for longer than we care to admit (put it this way, some of you reading this weren't yet born when we were first freaking out over the absurd heaviness of Ozma). They can do no wrong, or when they do "wrong" it's 'cause they meant to (i.e. Prick). Fans know that the Melvins don't need any help from anybody when it comes to making fucked up sounds. Pretty much every album of theirs has got at least totally WTF? track on it. They even have a few ENTIRE albums that confusionally consist of nothing but, such as the aforementioned Prick. So, imagine if the Melvins DID get some help, or rather, don't imagine, listen to this new all-remix album and hear for yourself! That's right, what could be cooler than the Melvins? How 'bout the Melvins screwed and chopped (if only! they should have gotten Swishahouse involved) by a bunch of other extreme/avant music mavens? Check it out: Eye Yamatsuka, Christoph Heemann, V/VM, John Duncan, Matmos, Lee Ranaldo, Merzbow, David Scott Stone, Panacea, Sunroof!, Kawabata Makoto, farmersmanual, Void Manes, RLW, and $peedranch! Dunno who Void Manes is (sounds black metal) but the rest of 'em are well known experimental/electronic/noise artists you're probably all familiar with. Not sure if the Melvins themselves picked 'em, or Ipecac did, but it's an impressive roster, just the folks to remix the Melvins catalog in gonzo, Plunderphonics fashion. No, these aren't "normal" remixes. Rather than having just a single song to play with, the participants were apparently asked to take a whole Melvins album and turn it into their "own" track.
Maybe you're wondering, is this noisy? Yes. Starts off that way certainly with Eye from the Boredoms' "Washmachine Sk8tronics". Endlessly chugging guitar riffage, gobs of distortion and shrill garbled electronics. Good grief, by the time you get to the end, which brings in the sounds of skateboards, it's hard to imagine who among the other remixers could top this, or how. Cleverly, the next track takes a totally different tack, Christoph Heemann's quietly droning "Emperor Twaddle Remix" being an abstract and (mostly) lovely respite from the noisy shenanigans that start up again on the very next cut, V/VM's "She Chokes Her Dying Breath & Does It In My Face", which proves that anything current noiseniks like Wolf Eyes and Shit & Shine ever did, the Melvins did it first, provided you listen to 'em with the assistance of V/VM. This sounds more like Merzbow than the latter track remixed by Merzbow himself, whose contribution to this disc is equally distortodelic but perhaps more rhythmic.
That brings us to track 4, the aforementioned John Duncan mix, which for the first time on this disc sounds like could actually be something from an actual Melvins album. With a heavy percussive onslaught and droning guitar, it's like an extended intro to a real Melvins song, but then when you think the rock is gonna kick in, instead you get low-end heartbeat pulsations and high-end electronic sizzle. Again, whomever programmed this disc did a fine job, 'cause that segues quite nicely into the clicks and cuts techno makeover that the Matmos boys do for the Melvins on "Linkshander". Heck we all might like techno better if it ALWAYS had the ominous doom-drone thing going on in the background, and spacey sci-fi effects, that this track does.
Lee Ranaldo's "Eggnog Trilogy" starts off with the first easily recognizable Melvins material on here so far, including even snippets of Buzz's vocals. This takes over from Duncan's cut as the track that sounds the most like it could be the Melvins themselves, but at the same time clearly isn't entirely. And, gosh, there's plenty more highlights, we'll not describe them all, except to say that Panacea's "electroclash" remix indeed sounds like that (rad!), and Sunroof! succeed in transmuting the Melvins into something that sounds more like their own hazy shining dronemusick, lovely.
Most of the remixers delve into the realm of digital glitch and out-and-out noise, with a small minority opting instead for calm and quiet. Tape speed manipulation, pitch shifting, extreme distortion, sudden edits, that's mostly the modus operandi here and the Melvins can take it, somehow keeping their unique musical persona intact. Though it will be challenging, trainspotting Melvins fanatics can have good fun trying to figure out what songs and/or albums each track is plundering.
Lastly, we can't review this without mentioning that a good friend of ours first heard the John Duncan remix while riding in a Lamborghini speeding through the Italian Alps -with- John Duncan. How cool and/or strange is that? While you might not be listening to this in a luxury sports car, more likely in your own home, we're sure you'll get a big kick out of it too, along with all the other remixes...
Another 7" slab of New Wave Of Finnish Heavy Metal weirdness from our pals in Circle. We're pretty sure it's them, it must be, that's Jussi on the cover with his hair in his face, posing in front of a dilapidated barn, and it sounds just like all the other NWOFHM acts they've invented that we so enjoy, like Steel Mammoth and Krypt Axeripper and Tractor Pulling and Motorspandex! And also quite a bit like Circle's own Katapult album come to think of it.
Bright burbling yet somehow metallic guitar riffage churns forth, amidst a warm swarm of distortion and synthy sounding FX. It's a lofi, catchy quasi-metal pop music, head bobbing if not banging, perfect for the rasping vocals crooning cryptic stoner hippie/hessian poetry: "One way road / down from the hills / straight to the cave of skulls / computer of yesterday" Huh? Or: "Stay with the rainbow / eat the dreams / burn the talent / fight the spirit / listen to soul". Brilliant.
And although this isn't black metal by a long shot, despite its Scandinavian origins, they did come up with one of the truly grimmest song titles ever: "We're Getting Old"! There's four songs here, 2 per side, the other titles being "Let's Eat Fire", "Agitation Evil", and "Kingdom Together".
Wonder if this band will someday do a full-length or if, as with most of their NWOFHM comrades, one 7" is all we get. Based on this, we'd be happy to hear more. Or, just more from the next new "band" these guys come up with!
One of the more short-lived but highly prolific country string groups, the Mississippi Sheiks formed in 1930 and disbanded six years later after recording over 60 songs including their huge crossover hit, "Sitting On Top Of The World" (covered by Sinatra, Dylan, and Cream amongst many others!). Naming themselves after Rudolph Valentino's movie, The Sheik, the trio were known for the risque double entendre in their songs ("Driving That Thing" "Cracking Them Things", "Grinding Old Fool"), making them a highly successful touring and party band. The wonderful vinyl-only Monk label does it again, compiling the best of the Sheiks' early Okeh recordings from 1930, including their other well-known song,"Stop and Listen Blues"!
The Beatles on the cover, this issue featuring an exclusive interview with Sir Paul discussing the remasters, and Rock Band... There's also a free cd stuck to the cover (in a jewel case like they do!) featuring cover versions of songs from Abbey Road done by the likes of Cornershop, Robyn Hitchcock, Jeffrey Lewis, Gomez, and some less familiar names as well. But it's not all Beatles this ish, we're pleased to see a piece on Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells! Also: Bunny Wailer, Prefab Sprout, The Who, The Cribs (now w/ Johnny Marr), and more... the usual pages and pages of well informed reviews, plus news, photos, etc. etc. to keep your music obsessed brain busy for a while.
We'll just spare the long-winded build up and get straight to the point: Moon Duo is the new side project from Ripley, guitarist for San Francisco's psychedelic heroes Wooden Shjips, and it kicks plenty of ass. This lengthy two song ep rocks in a similar, albeit slightly more stripped down way, and like the Shjips, Moon Duo is all about super hypnotic, highly rhythmic repetition with plenty of awesome fuzz guitars and simple but powerful drumming. And like all vinyl only offerings from Ripley's main gig, this is also coming to you in highly limited numbers, so act now or suffer later.
The first track, "Love On The Sea," previously appeared in edited form on a recent Yeti magazine compilation. But really, why would anyone want something coming from a Wooden Shjips dude to be slimmed down to fit on a cd with other groups? Thankfully, the version here uses an entire side to help you get even further lost in its endless melodic grooves. The song comes off as the perfect mix of krauty propulsion with fuzzed out, druggy American garage rock from the '60s, and the lo-fi recording works really well to get you nice and disoriented. Murky vocals, swirling organs and bright guitar accents give you the impression of what it would be like to relax in a room full of strobe lights going full blast, and after a while you can't tell whether the drums are a thumping backbeat or a straightforward groove. Whatever the case, it's sounding damn good to our ears.
On side 2 we have "E-Z Street Ext," which actually sounds a bit like an instrumental minor key version of the song "Down By The Sea" from the Shjips' recent Dos record. There's a nice dose of wild fuzz guitar action, but here the organ takes center stage with its awesome underwater sound. The drums are a steady pound, and as the guitar begins to decay into crumpling waves of distortion, things seem to speed up and build in intensity before arriving at a prolonged cymbal loop which itself appropriately ends in a locked groove.
Again, this is super limited, and if you couldn't already tell, it is absolutely required listening for those who can't get enough Wooden Shjips.
When Mum first hit the scene, they were part of that amazing Morr Music scene, when that label was releasing dreamy and delicate electronic tinged pop that soared and melted with such ease and lasting impact.
Mum were really one of the best of the bunch, an Icelandic group who excelled in making sounds that sounded more like a magical music box than a regular old rock band. Several years later and much has changed, Morr Music is no longer the quite so dependable label they once were and Mum have found themselves on several labels since those early days, as well as going through some major lineup changes, all of which resulted in a pretty serious shift in sound on their last record, Go Go Smear The Poison Ivy.
Their evolution of sound continues as they move more towards a much more full sound rife with rich and lush instrumentation as well as a delicate use of electronics, which they use much less frequently than on their earlier recordings, but when they do, they really find simple and engaging ways to make it sound magical. Much of the full and lush sound can be attributed to cellist Hildur Gudnadottir who has helped flesh out the groups sound since joining the group as a full member. While so many records tend to be front loaded we actually find that Sing Along To Songs You Don't Know gets better and better as the record goes on with many of its best moments found on the second half of the album. SO perfect for the crisp and cold days to come...
We most definitely have a thing for Russian black metal, Old Wainds, Stielhas Storhett, Forest, Branikald, Raven Dark, Nav, Ithdabquth Qliphoth, we could go on and on. So we're always psyched to discover some new band we had never heard, or heard of before, such was the case with Native In Black, whose 2008 disc At The Gates Of Eternal Winter we just managed to get in, and it's a killer, but the cool thing is it's a whole different take on black metal than we're used to, especially from Russian bands.
Their sound is cold and grim and frosty and buzzy, but it's not really furious or fast, it's also not stripped down or raw, instead it's almost like some weird variant of classic eighties metal, mixed with a little blackness, and a lot of thrash. It's hard to describe, but much like the Ruins cd reviewed elsewhere on this list, the more we listen to this the better it sounds. Most black metal is droney or blurry, barely headbangable, but this shit is epic, and totally rocking, midtempo most of the time, and when it is fast, it's not blast beats, but more furious and sort of punk rock. Lurching and lumbering, pounding fists in the air. The vocals are awesome too, definitely a black metal shriek, but also frenzied and super dramatic, a bit like Mr. Doctor or something, giving the black metal a distinctly over the top Devil Doll vibe. In fact the more we dig into this record, the less distinctly black metal it sounds, and the more it sounds like some fucked up noise rock band, who just so happen to have some metal roots, a tangled mathy buzz, wrapped around those crazy vox, and shot through with a bit of stumbly punk rock, and streaks of blackened grimnity. Live these guys could easily either be corpsepainted and bespiked, or a bunch of bearded dudes in jeans and tshirts, leaping all over the stage, flailing wildly and stage diving, hardly matters, either way this shit rules!
There are a handful of cd-r labels out there who are meticulous, not only with the music they choose to release, but with the packaging, the presentation, the ideas and inspiration behind the label, the theme that runs through all of the music, with everything related to their label and the music on it, which is always so inspiring, especially when everyone you know has a limited cd-r label. One of our favorites is Belgian label Mystery Sea, who specialize in what they call "night-ocean drones", and each disc is gorgeously packaged with full color artwork, that matches the artwork on the disc, and it all reflects the music contained within. We get as many copies as we can, but with almost every Mystery Sea releases we get, they tend to disappear quite quickly.
The latest comes from Ninth Desert, whose sound is anything but arid and dry, desolate and warm. Instead, the sounds on Zone are cold, cool, chilly, wintery, lots of glistening high end, the sounds you might imagine would emanate from vast ice fields, or deep snowy caves, not so much rumble and buzz as sparkle and glimmer and glisten. Even at it's most low-end dronelike, the whirs are wrapped in streaks of keening high end, everything is bright and blown out. It's like the sonic version of laying in a huge snow bank, staring at the sun, everything is white and bright, too much for your eyes to handle so everything sort of glazes into strange indistinct shapes, glowing and shifting, like clouds in the sky, or huge slow moving chunks of ice in the sea. These sounds are arctic, almost alien, like wandering on the surface of some strange planet, everything icy and barren, cold winds whir and whine, the sound of the slow moving glaciers a muted creaking, all smeared into dreamy swaths of high end shimmer. So lovely. And so refreshing to experience a soothing, slow moving drone record, that doesn't rely entirely on low end rumble, but at the same time manages to make upper register sounds as soothing and soft focus as their lower ended brethren.
Like all Mystery Sea releases, strictly LIMITED TO 100 COPIES, each disc numbered on the tray card, and gorgeously packaged with striking full color artwork.
Okay, c'mon, the band is called No Balls, it's one of the guys from the mother fucking Brainbombs, and he's doing some sort of damaged lo-fi super distorted, doomy, looped, hypnotic, lo-fi metallic krautpunk. What more do you need to know?!
All of the basic BB elements are present, except maybe the trumpet, or the vocals. Which means two blasts of all instrumental hypnofuzz dirgery. The A side is all downtuned and fuzzed out and Sabbathy and way doomy, with a killer main riff, the whole thing simple and stripped down and plodding, but with some awesome (and awesomely freaked out) strangled stumbling angular guitar counterpoint, some serious Black Flagged, Greg Ginn-ed six string super distorto gnarl. Noisy and chaotic and fragmented, while that main riff just goes gloriously on and on and on and on...
The B side offers up another locked and looped riff, this time lumbering along beneath a super distorted wall of crumbling sound, the rhythm motorik and sort of abstract, while over the top ANOTHER guitar, dense and downtuned unfurls a buzz drenched slow motion minor key melody, while very much like the A side, that original riff pounds away unwaveringly.
So awesome. Bummer that it's so limited, only 187 copies, we got almost a quarter of those, but they're already flying. Simple orange and blue hand numbered silkscreened covers, on thick orange vinyl with hand stamped labels.
On, not to be confused with the mysterious New Zealand mindfuck punk band of the same name previously released on Campbell Kneale's Celebrate Psi Phenomenon label, is a collaboration between French composer Sylvain Chaveau and percussionist Steven Hess of Pan American and Haptic. But then built into the concept of their collaboration, the recordings they make together are then handed off to a third party, this time around to the one and only Helge Sten, aka Deathprod, to be "remixed", for the lack of a better description, and thus we have Your Naked Ghost Come Back at Night. Like much of the dark and trembling chill of many Type releases from Svarte Greiner and Xela, listening to the blurred spectral ambience of On's sound, it is nearly impossible to distinguish the original source material from Sten's treatments. We can only know the ghosts. Originally recorded in 2003 with a limited release in 2004 on the Les Disques Du Soleil Et De L'Acier label, Type has fittingly reissued this unique release which in all but name is pretty much the final Deathprod release as Sten has vowed never to record under that name again! Like all of Type's releases, the vinyl is limited so act fast!
