We'll go out on a limb here, and say that of the hundreds, maybe thousands of songs Guided By Voices recorded over the course of sixteen full lengths, and about a million eps and singles, most if not all, were pretty damn great. Sure there were some throwaways, but for a body of songs that epic, the ratio of good to bad was impossibly high. And most folks credited songwriter / GBV head honcho Robert Pollard, and rightfully so, but then a funny thing happened after the dissolution of GBV, Pollard started releasing solo records, and records with other ad hoc outfits, and that ratio turned around, WAY around, and suddenly, a new Pollard record didn't elicit the same sort of excitement that a new GBV record did. Even here, we didn't bother with a bunch of the Pollard releases, partially cuz it's just impossible to keep up, but also because it seemed like the magic was gone, where GBV records were inspired, Pollard records seemed more like a job, just what he did. To be fair, there were a bunch of records that we loved, and even the ones we didn't had at least a handful of killer jams. But We All Got Out Of The Army sees Pollard and friends returning to form big time. Opener "Silk Rotor" sounds like classic late era GBV, a little glammy, super hooky, with a lurching angular verse, and a soaring totally memorable chorus, one for the GBV / Pollard pantheon for sure. And the hits just keep coming, from slow burning brooding lopes, jangly pop dirges, to weird almost new wave sounding angular jams, to totally classic British Invasion worship via four-track and beer, to warbly acoustic lo-fi bedroom indie folk, to the record's other GBV style classic, the title track, with its stop/start verse and super heavy hooky chorus. Killer stuff for sure, and an essential addition to your already shelf busting GBV / Pollard collection!
Colin Potter - the sound conjurer par excellance for Nurse With Wound, Monos, Ora, etc. - teams up once again with the academically inclined multi-disciplinarian Phil Mouldycliff. They had worked together on the APM project with Chris Atkins and produced a couple of a collaborative projects on Potter's ICR imprint. Mouldycliff has long been partial to field recordings, and he brings plenty to Potter's studio to get worked over. The album begins with an urban soundscape of banal conversations in an outdoor marketplace broken up with the chime of church bells, whose chorus gets trapped in a series of loops that Potter and Mouldycliff slowly pull apart into sinewy, vibrating digital fields of time stretched artifacts and serpentine drones. As this digital ambience collapses into a softened grey mass, tactile abrasions that sound almost like pieces of styrofoam being scraped against each other pop to the foreground, gradually overrun by the unsettling noise of dental drills squealing the distance. Even some 40 years after the fact, Marathon Man is still the dominant reference for such sounds. The subterranean dank which Potter and Mouldycliff surround these high-powered motors also serves that reference well. The drones and shadows continue throughout the album, only to find Mouldycliff and Potter returning to the same set of field recordings from the marketplace which opened the album.
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Two-way split from these two weirdo soundscapers, the debut vinyl release for Leyna Noel, aka Psychic Reality, after a whole mess of super limited cd-r's and tapes. She lets it all hang out (on the naked sparkly cover too), spreading a clutch of interwoven songs over a whole side, letting them all blend into one organic whole. A dizzying mesh of primitive home brewed new wave avant pop, skittery looped rhythms and weirdly chantlike vocals, playful little almost-African sounding melodies, eventually adding a thick layer of buzzing feeding back guitar, a heaving, churning swirl, that sounds almost metallic, but at the same time weirdly poppy, that mechanical rhythm and Noel's soaring vox the link between the various movements. Blown out fractured cold wave noise pop gives way to hushed abstract ambient drift, which gives way to squalls of Eastern style skronk, and intense swells of howling caterwaul, a haunting intense Diamanda Galas / Lydia Lunch soul purging, only to slip back into a dark swirling abyss, tranquil and shimmery.
LA Vampires are a whole different can of warped distorted musical worms, sounding more like a floorcore, underground noise version of Madlib, taking snippets of old tapes, dusty, scratched up records, adding lots of effects, random bits of noise, extra vox, all under a haze of tripped out lysergic crackle and hiss, a patina of bongsmoke and druggy warble, flutes flutter, voices flit, beats, lurch and shuffle, everything twisted and washed out, and seemingly melting very very slowly right before your ears, cool cool stuff for sure.
LIMITED TO 450!! With awesomely sexy, sparkly, painted, hippy, nude cover art.
Rimfrost is either a totally grim and kvlt name for a black metal band, or a sort of goofy, possibly questionable one. These guys are from Sweden though, so odds are the rims there are indeed frosty. And the sound? Frosty as well. Super dense and heavy and punishing, a sort of Viking black metal but without all the folk, this is thrashing blackness of the highest order. Fans of classic Enslaved, old Immortal, you know, that classic Scandinavian sound, which is obviously what these guys are shooting for, and they pretty much nail it. No synths, no acoustic guitars (okay, well, maybe a few), no pretty fluttery interludes (only one, or two), instead, these guys pepper their blasting panzer attack with some super dynamic stop start arrangements, plenty of weirdly mathy bits, some incredibly drumming, the sound MASSIVE and so epic. Riffs gnarled and explosive, the rhythms galloping and relentless, blazing double kicks, the guitars chugging and crunchy, the vocals a demonic croak, the songs themselves, epic and majestic, the tempo often pounding and midtempo, but Rimfrost mix it up, exploding into a full on black frenzy here and there, or sometimes slowing down to a doomic lumber. There are melodies and hooks too, usually subtle, but sometimes brought to the fore for a moment of almost NWOBHM sounding radness, before blasting black into the (g)rim frost. Excellent.
Every new Jack Rose record is a cause for celebration around here, a master of post Fahey modern Appalachia, and an incredible player, fingerpicking, slide, the last time he played here it was magical to watch this big, un assuming guy, effortlessly create this massive and intricate sound. This latest Rose record though is bittersweet, it's of course fantastic, lush, and melodic, intricate and lovely, but it will forever be saddled with the added emotional weight of being Rose's last ever recording, as he sadly passed away in December of last year. Luck In The Valley, then is not just a record, but a gorgeous tribute to his life, his music, an elegy is sound, beautiful and timeless.
And it is beautiful and timeless, opener "Blues For Percy Danforth" is incredible, an intricately fingerpicked melancholy lament, accompanied by jaw harp and harmonica, the playing by Rose is some of the most fluid we've heard, a swirl of sweet melodies, warm resonant buzz, perfectly arranged into a sound classic and old timey, but still modern and original. This record is more of a group / full band effort, unlike many of Rose's other mostly solo discs, featuring lots of guests on tampura, banjo, tack piano, fiddle, harmonica and more. The tracks range in sound from bluegrass hoedown to brooding minor key folk to classic Appalachia, many of the songs have a raga like vibe (no doubt due to his time spent playing with drone rockers Pelt), others are rife with woozy weary slide guitar, which gives the proceedings an ominous haunting vibe, and those are our favorite tracks, the darker, more melancholy and introspective numbers, that make up about half the record, a good balance for the jauntier jams, which include a few covers / reinterpretations of classics from Blind Blake and W.C. Handy.
Fans of Rose will absolutely want this, it's as good if not better than his other records, fans of guitar music and Appalachia and classic bluegrass would also do well do give Rose a try, but really, this is just a gorgeous disc of amazing guitar music, beautiful songs, and one more chance to get lost in the magical sounds of a man who has hopefully moved on to someplace much more magical.
The cd comes in a cool 4 panel mini-LP style jacket.
The lp version comes in an old-style tip-on jacket with a hand-pasted letterpressed cover, with a free mp3 download coupon and is limited to only 1500 copies...
Doom. Vinyl. Die Healing. Need we go on?? Doom metal fans, probably all you need to know is that this album by LA godfathers of doom Saint Vitus, never before on vinyl, and long out of print on cd, is now here. However, we will go on...
Nobody could have guessed it back in 1995, when this album was first released, but 2010 is shaping up to be a pretty good year for ol' Saint Vitus. Not just one reunion show, but an extensive, well-attended tour! Vinyl reissues of their SST era records (we've got some in stock, getting more soon)! And this, a lovingly crafted vinyl version (first time on wax!!) for what was their 7th and final full-length studio album before calling it quits! We also hear rumors of a NEW album being made. However, as much as we'll be excited to hear it, there's no way they can top THIS.
While it might have been their final record, a last hurrah, hardly noticed by an uncaring world, it was also one of their best ever. For one thing, it marked the brief return of their original and best vocalist, the amazing Scott Reagers. Apologies to Wino, who's fronting the band for their current reunion... Some will differ, Wino certainly has his fans, we like him a lot too, Born Too Late and Mournful Cries are great albums, but let's just say there's no other singer quite like Scotty Reagers. Vitus was lucky to have had him in the first place, and lucky to have had him back for this. His dramatic and dynamic delivery, gloomy and ghoulish, yet classic castle-metal through and through, keeps us spellbound. Guitarist Dave Chandler steps up with some great sludgy slo-mo Sabbathy riffs (of course) and wah wah'd out, psychedelic punk soloing (of course). The atmosphere is sooooo despairing. Opener "Dark World", later covered by Reverend Bizarre, is a classic, what a riff! But that's just the beginning... "One Mind", "Let The End Begin", "The Sloth", "Return Of The Zombie", heck all the tracks are awesome, any Vitus fan should agree. The entire album harks back to the feeling of their first few records in the mid '80s, really as if Reagers had never left the band. And again his singing is crucial here, over the top wailing with a wretched, grotesque edge to it. Emotive and eccentric. Perfect for the plodding, fuzz-filled creepy-crawls that fill this pestilent platter. He might be singing about sloths and zombies (he IS singing about sloths and zombies) but damn does it sound sincere and MEANINGFUL - ignore him at your peril. Drop the needle on this and learn what it is to be doomed!!
While we should also list the abovementioned SST reissues, many of them must-haves too, this seemed even more exciting 'cause so few folks ever got the chance to get it, the cds were imports and it was one of the last releases on the label (Hellhound) before it folded. And like we said, there never ever was vinyl. Now there is, and fairly deluxe vinyl at that, complete with embossing on the cover for the Vitus logo. And yeah, of course it's limited... even if it wasn't, though, you gotta get it, we'd just be telling you to buy two of 'em!!
Lately some of our favorite Bay Area music makers have added record label head honcho to their resumes. John Dwyer (Thee Oh Sees) started his label Castle Face a few years ago, and Kelley Stoltz started Chuffed last year and now Marc Dantona of Conspiracy Of Beards and the now sadly defunct Pillars Of Silence has just launched his own label, Turn Up. The Sandwitches are the perfect band to launch the label, as their smart approach to wide spanning pop shows just what happens when folk minded musicians take it to the garage. The three ladies in the band have done time in great San Francisco bands like Brilliant Colors, The Fresh & Onlys, Pillars Of Silence and it's kind of cool how the Sandwitches really do sound like a blend of all three of those bands. So many groups of late seem to be so dialed into such a narrow sound so it's really refreshing to hear a band who are far from being a one trick pony, instead covering lots of musical ground, but doing so with a cohesiveness that is often really tricky to pull off. In lots of ways the record makes us think of a band on Woodsist covering Fleetwood Mac's amazing record Tusk!!
There is also something so honest and sincere about their delivery that you get the feeling they would play these songs with as much conviction and emotion in their living room populated with a few friends as they would on stage at a packed venue. Can't wait to hear what Turn Up unleash in the future and if this debut release is any indication this is going to be a label to keep your eyes on!
Holy heck. This is some serious over the top "blackjazz" indeed. No, not "black" jazz like, in the African American sense (which would be rather redundant anyway), but more like, "blackened" in the metal sense. 'Cause this band is from Norway, y'know. And none other than that modern day Viking, Grutle from Enslaved, makes a cameo vocal appearance on one track. One could argue that this "blackjazz" is not really jazz at all. Unless your idea of jazz comes entirely from the works of John Zorn! And he'd be the first to tell you it shouldn't. But if you like John Zorn and Mike Patton and others of that ilk, you'll probably dig this. Likewise if you're already a fan of Shining, of course. We've certainly enjoyed their previous albums as well - notice now that they're not on jazz/experimental label Rune Grammofon, but on a metal label, albeit a fairly adventurous one, whose last release highlighted here was by Japanese weirdos Sigh, fans of whom just might be able to wrap their heads around this too.
If you haven't yet heard Shining, this album will pull no punches in the matter of acquainting you with their unique sound. Jazz IS a part of it (including saxophone... though there's sax in Sigh too and they're not jazz) but there's more, lots more.
The first track is a hyper spazzed, fuzzed out almost industrial metal onslaught (interestingly, they do it again later in the record in a more abstract, atmospheric fashion). And they just descend from there further into skronky, complex, heavy prog madness, laced with ADD electronic weirdness and improvisatory jamming, played with both metal and jazz chops. Speaking of which, the squealing saxes come to the fore on "Healter Skelter" (which is not a misspelled Beatles cover), a track that actually gives Japan's Koenjihyakkei ensemble a run for their money!!!
Then there's "Blackjazz Deathtrance", perhaps the album's centerpiece, the longest track anyway, nearly 11 minutes of utter, uh, blackjazz deathtrance indeed: spasming percussive assault, sampled screaming crowd noise, frenzied sax blat, shuddering fuzz riffs, spiraling into energetic disassembly, diving into droned-out depths, throbbing with electronic menace. It's kinda like 16-17 meets Fantomas. And that holds for much of the rest of the record too. You could also compare this to the likes of Guapo and Naked City, with some Jazkamer thrown in for good measure.
The disc ends with a cover of the oft-covered "21st Century Schizoid Man" but they do it really well (that's the one w/ Grutle on vox). And that particular King Crimson classic is perfect for Shining, being prog pioneers King Crimson's most metal composition (really one of the earliest metal songs ever) as well as one that's a natural launchpad for hyperchaotic free jazz freakouts too. In a word, when it (and this album) is over: whew!
It's a fucking shame we have so few copies of this cassette. Small Cruel Party is a project from the mysterious Key Ransome, who once lived in Seattle and may now live in France; and unfortunately, we've grown to appreciate his work well after the bulk of his material has disappeared from distribution. Field recordings, found object manipulation, and minimalist blasts of noise-drone are the common tools of Small Cruel Party, paralleling those used by Joe Colley, Coelacanth, Giancarlo Toniutti, and many others championed here at Aquarius; but the Small Cruel Party application of his restricted elements (often no more than three or four layers of distinct sounds) comes across as the audio equivalent to a Bruce Naumann video piece. At first, it seems that not a lot happens in a Small Cruel Party piece, but as the elements slowly emerge into view, the sounds become wholly engaging yet mysteriously distant. This tape collects a bunch of material originally issued on cassette back in the late '80s, including some collaborative work with Abo from Yeast Culture. With any luck we'll be able to stock more of these and make a much bigger stink about these amazing sounds. Small Cruel Party deserves it.
Not sure why, but it's been SO impossible to get enough of these to list, which is a huge bummer, cuz it's definitely turned into one of our favorite records of the year (and yeah, we know it didn't come out this year, but so what!). Our distros never have it, emails to the label never get returned, so fuck it, we decided to just list it with the 10 or so copies we have. So at least a few of you can check this out.
The weird thing is we were expecting something much more generic and garagey and run of the mill, but from the first song (a definite contender for jam of the year) we knew this was something WAY more. Fuzzy, and buzzy, and stoney and groovy and spaced out, crunchy guitars busy burbling basslines, some bad ass drumming, and some super wicked scowly vox, somewhere between the Lyres, Monster Magnet and the White Stripes.
"Flight Of The Navigator", the aforementioned jam, encapsulates pretty much everything we love about these guys and gal. A sharp jagged jangly main riff, with a killer stop start descending verse, a woozy soaring chorus, and then a total Monster Magnet bridge with weird processed vocals, and the guitars all space-y and stretched out. Some wild leads here and there, and HOOKS THAT KILL. We literally listened to this first track so many times, that it was weeks before we got any further into the record, but when we did, we discovered that the rest of the record was pretty much just as bad ass. The Lyres vibe can't be underestimated, but Monster Magnet is all over these tracks, as is Hawkwind, plenty of fuzzy poppiness too, classic garage infuses everything here, but it's way more poppy, and space-y and heavy and hooky. We could go on and on and on and on, but since the availability of this record is a bit up in the air, we'll just sum it up by saying this kicks ass big time, and if favorite records were indeed judged entirely and soley on how many times and how often it gets listened to, then we're pretty sure there's no other record this year that would even come close (if you ask Andee).
For a while, there was a band called the Muslims, who were seriously hyped, before squeamishness about their obviously problematic moniker found the band changing their name to Soft Pack, only to have the kids cry 'sell out', but hell, one can only imagine trying to get on a plane with a bunch of flight cases filled with strange battery powered devices, all stenciled with the words 'The Muslims'. But hell, whatever they're called, it's easy to see what all the hubbub was about. These guys kick up a seriously excellent racket, somewhere between the lo-fi jangle of groups like Thee Oh Sees and the Fresh & Onlys, classic hooky Britpop and the more seriously post punk rock of the Hot Snakes, which is precisely how this 12" plays out. Opener "C'Mon" is equal parts frantic jangle and Strokes-y indie sunglasses jangle pop, while "Eat Gold" is a pounding and manic with on-the-verge-of-cracking vocals and a definite screamo vibe, and then there's "Answer To Yourself" which also has a Strokes vibe, a little like a way more rocking Hoodoo Gurus, surf guitars, and world weary vocals, garagey, with pounding muted verses and a soaring chorus, while the final track follows a similar sonic path, but adding a bit more grit and distortion. Really good stuff, it's easy to see why these guys were, and still are the talk of the town, it's not hard to imagine them on Matador, or opening for Interpol or on MTV. Which is not a bad thing at all. Especially considering we've been listening to this pretty much nonstop since we got it.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES, each one hand numbered, with a download code so you can cram these jams onto your computer.
So, for those poor folks who missed out on the first cassette we listed from our absolute favorite Vancouver psych/drone duo Solars, here's your chance to pick up their latest slab of gloriously executed, beautifully layered drone-gazeeee!
Eyes begins as a faint wave creeping up from beneath the tides, only to slowly shift into a blossoming crescendo of layered electric guitar, vocal decay and an avalanche of ecstatic, chakra-melting bliss. Imagine Eliane Radigue somehow jamming with Slowdive, then picture those recordings mixed by William Basinski, and you pretty much have this tape. Swarming overtones arching from the wavering drones, rich synth-like low end hovering under the placid wash of shimmering, heavy nu-new age. Similar to the heavy-gazing alchemy of their first cassette Shadow/Cave, this single-sided, long form track is patiently sculpted with close attention to sonic detail, each new listen revealing a hidden world of buried beauty. If you can't tell already, this is criminally limited to an edition of 50. Yep, only 50 of these out there, not sure if we can get more than the 10 we already have, so act fast if you want one! Don't want folks missing out TWICE....
More way fun & catchy garage pop from right here in San Francisco. Spencey Dude & The Doodles share a similar scrappy & carefree demeanor as folks like Nodzz, Hunx & His Punx, Younger Lovers, Nobunny, etc. Fun fun fun...
Skweeeeeeeeeee! We've got some more of that freaky funky Scandinavian (not always!) glitch hop electro 8-bit fun for y'all...
A few months back, after we listed "the first American skweee release" by Portland's Lazercrotch, we received an email from Boston-based producer Stickem politely letting us know that he was the first American skweee artist to put something out, actually. However, Stickem's debut ep was a digital download only so we couldn't have stocked it anyway. Now, however, he's got physical product that we've been able to bring in, a brand new 7" single.
A-side "This Thing Is On" is on indeed, slamming yet slinky low-slung groove, snapping and popping with electronic blip blap. An intermittent simple synth keyboard melody tickles the ear throughout. The B-side confirms Stickem's skweee cred, being a remix by Stockholm's Beem, who smoothes things out just a bit, like the original track's kicked back and taken a few tokes. Nice.
Stickem is definitely hooked up with his Scandinavian brethren, also being responsible for an entire skweee mix, featuring Beem, Claws Cousteau, Mrs. Qeada, Mesak, Randy Barracuda, and other skweee notables, that you can download free from http://skweee.com/let-skweeedom-ring.
Boy has this been tough to keep in stock. For weeks now, we've been trying to order enough to list, but EVERYONE was out of it (the vinyl is still AWOL, being repressed we think). Makes sense as they were another one of those super hyped, next big thing bands, but these guys happen to be one of those rare bands who might even deserve it. Check out record opener "Floating Vibes", it's like a warped garage pop surf rock hybrid of the Beach Boys and XTC, with plenty of Pavement style nineties indie rock goodness mixed in. A little Weezer too. And these guys take all those influences, and shape them into something special, definitely retro and WAY beholden to much of what came before, but really what isn't, and these guys are good enough to transform those borrowed sounds into something both warm and familiar but also weirdly original, the songs are sprawling, lots of parts, tons of harmonies, even strings and flutes. Back to the opening track, crunchy riffage gives way to warm washed out woozy loping pop, with a soaring bridge / chorus, all tangled guitar leads, and slippery chords, which in turn gives way to a cool hand clap, twangy guitar, ooooohs and aahhhhs bit of ethereal drift, before exploding into soaring psychedelic pound, and then back again.
But hell that's just one song. Check out "Swim", which pushes the same buttons that recent Smith Westerns record did, all reverbed hazy harmony vocals, warm crunchy guitars, chiming bells, a killer hook, plenty of fuzz and haze and jangle, some pretty perfect pop for sure, total Weezer / Beach Boys worship, but with some surprising little melodic tangles and some almost African sounding almost-grooves, that might even appeal to the Vampire Weekenders.
But Astro Coast is way more than its influences, or some chunk of hipster flavor-of the-moment, Pitchfork approved indie rock, much more, the record throughout remains hazy and a little psychedelic, a LOT jangly, but drifts all over the place, from hushed harmonic shimmer, to shuffling dream pop, to total surf garage crunch, to old school nineties style smart pop, all tangled guitars and clever lyrics, soaring vocals, slipping easily into gorgeous falsettos, acoustic guitars draped over big booming drums, effects swirling and swooping, all manner of subtly employed studio-as-instrument filigree, all of that and incredibly and impossibly catchy songs too, which, after listening to this non stop for the last month or so, has us convinced that these guys really should be the next big thing. Definitely a new favorite around here...
Vinyl only release of an ultra dreamy collaboration between Swedish daydream instrumentalists Tape and the seemingly always collaborating Bill Wells, who has worked with a long list of bands we love including, The Pastels, Isobel Campbell, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, and loads more. The meeting of worlds between Tape and Wells is so perfect. Tape have long mastered the ability to create such lush and varied sounds yet maintain a lovely level of understatement. Wells does such a nice job of keeping his piano, Fender Rhodes and melodica as restrained as possible, perfectly blending with the gorgeous dreamlike accompaniment. The four songs on Fugue unravel with such sparse yet evocative and moving energy. Tapping into such longing feelings of melancholy and memory. Like some of our favorite classic Eno/Budd collaborations this is beyond perfect for those chilly mornings or rainy nights when all you want to do is stay inside and drift away into some sonic warmth. So nice!
Darren Tate has quietly amassed a substantial catalogue of treated field recordings and electrical eccentricities over the past twenty years, most notably through his collaborations with Andrew Chalk in Ora and more recently through his drone-centric project Monos, which typically features Colin Potter as Tate's trusted foil. While billed as a solo record, Nature In The City was to be the follow-up to the well received (and now out of print) Monos 2cd Generators released on Die Stadt in 2005. That album with its science fiction bleakness through analog electronics was the jumping off point for many of the recent Darren Tate experiments, and was clearly something that Nature In The City comes out of. However, Die Stadt decided to drop Nature In The City from their release schedule, leaving Tate to put this recording out through his own Fungal imprint. Here, Tate concentrates upon atonal flares of sawtooth synth tones and phaser-shot guitar noises that jump out from beds of undulating drones, bellowing loops, and eerie LFO-driven frequencies. Oblique half-melodies nervously flicker out of these constructions, occasionally joined by dreamy flickerings of pixel dust, all awash in nocturnal reverberations. Limited to a mere 100 copies.
Record number two from Megan Remy, the woman behind ramshackle psychedelic lo-fi noise-pop grey-wave outfit U.S. Girls. Right off the bat, anyone into the current crop of warped warbly floorcore noise makers and fractured gloom popppers will dig this big time. If your record shelves are sagging under the weight of discs from the Dum Dum Girls, Night Control, Washed Out, Neon Indian, Gary War, Blank Dogs, Zola Jesus, Girls At Dawn and the like, then you're most definitely gonna have to make some space for this girl(s).
A dizzying noise drenched chunk of 4-track spaced out home brewed protopunk, drums murky and chaotic and stumbling, super distorted, angular spidery guitars, shimmery and echoey, twangy and almost surfy at times, the vocals not doing that sixties girl group thing that so many NOW bands seem smitten with, instead channeling classic British sounds from the late eighties early nineties, alternatingly yelped and howled, cooed and crooned, but WAY down in the mix, the vocals a shadowy presence wrapped around the sinewy basslines, that sound like corroded fragments of lost Joy Division songs, elsewhere soft swells of warm muted guitars wash over strangely affected alien vox, and distant melancholy melodies. The record veers from hushed, soporific Grouper style dreamdrift, and pounding, ultra distorted experimental pop, to pounding distortion drenched gloom punk, always lo-fi, but not brittle as much as murky and indistinct, almost like listening to some lost eighties jam on a station that's just barely coming in. The poppier moments have a definite Joe Meek vibe, that sort of kitchen sink DIY whatthefuck weirdo production, with many of the tracks, splintering into strange rhythmic workouts or abstract swirls of shimmering effects and random muted noise. But throughout, even at its most far out and experimental, Remy infuses those sounds with a strange sort of familiar warmth, a smoldering blackened beauty, that's hard to disguise, no matter how hard she tries.
Definitely on the more experimental / abstract side of the current crop of noisy lo-fi gloom pop experimentalism, but that's precisely what makes Go Grey sound so good...
The late great Uncle Tupelo's fourth album is my (Windy, and Andee's too!) favorite. It's SO AMAZING, the perfect marriage between country and rock. Dare I say that even Gram Parsons would agree!
Despite the fact that Anodyne, originally released in 1993, was Tupelo's major label debut and everyone was nervous that it would suck, somehow everything came together and they recorded their most mature and perfect album (and that's sayin' a lot since their first three records are also stellar). Artistic differences eventually broke up the band, with Jeff Tweedy going on to form WILCO and Jay Farrar forming SON VOLT. But listen, if you're a fan of either of those two groups but *haven't* heard Uncle Tupelo yet, do yourself a favor. Ditto if you're a fan of "no depression" style Americana -- most of today's bands will point to Uncle Tupelo as main inspirations.
This record is absolutely classic in flavor, staying power, talent and songwriting. Farrar's downtrodden and minor key heartstring-tuggers alternate with Tweedy's lighter ditties; upbeat fiddle-led numbers are nestled amongst slower tunes. And everywhere is the undeniable tug of the bittersweet to give it incredible depth. I have been listening to this album probably every week for the last ten years and have never gotten tired of it.
Lyrics! Five extra tracks: a Farrar tune, a Tweedy song from 2003(?), and a Waylon Jennings cover; plus live renditions of "Truck Drivin' Man" and "Suzy Q."
MPEG Download: "Slate" [/audio/tupeloslate.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Slate" [/audio/tupeloslate.m3u]
No doubt about it, the legacy and inspiration of Fela Kuti's music ranks right up their with The Beatles and James Brown in terms of how much of an impact and lasting impression it has left on music of future generations. Without Fela there wouldn't have been Afro-beat as we know it. And luckily so many of the musicians he has influenced produce sounds with the same kind of fire, intensity and rhythm that he laid the blueprints for. This awesome compilation brings together the best of Fela's disciples from many areas on the globe including Nigeria, Columbia, Ghana, Trinidad, New York, and more.
This is exactly how we like our Afro-beat, raw, super charged and full of uncompromising power. It's impossible not to move to these rich groove filled burners. What's extra awesome and exciting is that most of these artists are new to our ears, besides Daktaris, the Whitefield Brothers,and Bola Johnson we really hadn't heard of many of these folks and damn they are all blowing us away! Lever Brothers, Gay Flamingoes, Lisandro Meza, Segun Bucknoh, Phirpo Y Sus Caribes....now we want to get our hands on all of their stuff! Most of the tracks on here are previously unreleased and while the cd is packaged lovingly in a small hardcover book with photos and liner notes, the vinyl is packaged in a totally amazing over the top box set with the music divvied up over four 10" records with a 24 page book packed with the same amazing photos and liner notes. So on fire and so highly recommended!
Bob Blank is one of the most unsung heroes in the history of the vibrant New York music scene of the '70s and '80s. He had such a wide ranging, amazing and colorful sound, and a massive (if under appreciated) influence like so many of the best musical minds of that era (Larry Levan, Arthur Russell, August Darnell). While his roots were for sure deep in the disco scene he had the kind of left of center disposition that allowed him to work on so many different kind of projects and with so many different, and often unexpected artists. Strut has put together a really loving collection of many of the great songs Blank helped bring to life by everyone from Lydia Lunch to Sun Ra, Lola (Arthur Russell) to Gladys Knight and more. While there is an undeniable level of funk and freespirit running through all these songs, they do all demonstrate the breadth of sound Blank was able to bring to records recorded in his legendary Blank Tapes studio located in the heart of Chelsea. Surely essential for folks who loved the recent Ze: 30 collection or the Mutant Disco and Disco Not Disco comps from the past few years. We're beyond stoked that Strut has put this collection together, not only to bring light to the amazing work that Blank created but simply as compilation, this record is just jam packed with so many super pleasing songs.
Geez! Just when you thought you've heard all the Brazilian Psych and Tropicalia of the sixties and seventies worth listening to, comes this monster compilation of complete unknown jams from the era that very nearly blows away anything you considered to be the best. Distributed by the same folks who brought us the killer Psych Funk 101 compilation (a unanimous store favorite), if you dug that compilation you should definitely check this one out. Culled specifically from the rarest of 7" singles (the era's cheapest and most produced format), many of 'em promo only, there are none of the usual suspects, no Caetano, Os Mutantes or any of Rogerio Duprat's star artists. Instead this is the sound of the deeper radical underground, of groups most of which couldn't ever get record deals. The music is way heavier, the vibe more unhinged and funky with big fuzz and often wild, ecstatic arrangements. Here is the checklist of groups on here: Celio Balona, Loyce E Os Gnomes, The Youngsters, Serguel, Fabio, Tony E Som Colorido, 14 Bis, Banda De 7 Leguas, Ton & Sergio, Ely, Com OS Falcoes Reais, Marisa Rossi, The Pops, Piry, and Max Rybell. The cd comes with a HUGE full color booklet with info on all the singles and pictures and the enhanced cd itself features a documentary, called "What Are Fuzz Bananas?" (good question). Meanwhile, the vinyl version comes with a large full color booklet with info on all the singles and pictures. We got the last copies of the first vinyl pressing that include 3-D glasses, though we're not sure why they were included as none of the record sleeve was printed in 3-D as far as we can tell, though they do make the wildly colorful psychedelic drawing in the gatefold sure look neat!
Way Recommended!
We can sum up this new Matador release in about three words: pretty cool comp! And as you should guess from the subtitle (or maybe from the anagrammatic title itself), it's geographically centered on Austin, Texas, where it comes as no surprise they have a kick ass local music scene, and we're not talking country or blues or whatever, either. Expertly compiled by none other than former Matador head honcho Gerard Cosloy (who now lives in Austin), with liner notes by him too, these are simply some of his faves currently playing the divier bars and back yards of that town, the kids keeping their local indie rock / punk / pop scene(s) fresh and happenin'. There might be some next big things on here, certainly lots of folks proudly flying the flag for sounds heard first in the '60s, '70s, '80s, and '90s, but forever young...
19 tracks, 19 bands, most of whom, what with us not being Austinites (Austiners? Austinians?), we hadn't heard of before (which is sort of the point of a comp like this, of course). Probably Woven Bones is the only one we knew of already, but now we've got a whole bunch of other bands to look out for. Here's the whole lineup for your perusal: Follow That Bird!, The Young, Woven Bones, Flesh Lights, Dikes Of Holland, Tre Orsi, The Distant Seconds, Kingdom Of Suicide Lovers, Elvis, Love Collector, Bad Sports, Wild America, Harlem, The Stuffies, The Golden Boys, The No No No Hopes, The Teeners, The Persimmons, and the Lost Controls. Not perhaps the best collection of band names ever (Follow That Bird!, really?), but it's the music that matters and Cosloy has certainly selected some quality tracks regardless of the dodginess of some of the names...
You'll have noticed that two Austin area bands who we recently hosted a dual instore appearance by, Silver Pines and Pure Ecstasy, don't happen to be on here, but it sure seems like they should be, definitely their shoegazey pop psych sensibilities are shared by several of the artists who did get included, though there's quite a variety of sounds here, some tracks grungier and grittier, others more poppy and polished, all of 'em pretty darn catchy in their own way. You'll find doses of distorted jangle with a hint of Spacemen 3 influence (several bands, including Woven Bones), plenty of punky garage rock and garagey punk rock (such as Flesh Lights' instantly classic sounding "Crush On You" and the even more punkish likes of The Teeners and their barely one minute long ragged blast "Nazis On Film"), some new wavey rhythmically synthed-out moments (from the Lost Controls, ferinstance)... all sorts of stuff really... and kudos to Cosloy (and the bands), no real duds! Quite the opposite, lots of picks that click. Check it out.
Volume 2 in Soul Jazz's awesome series of Dancehall comps, a rough history of dancehall from the eighties and beyond, which for folks at aQ is of specific interest cuz you know we love us some dancehall, from the early days of reggae dancehall, to the super hard heavy modern raga dancehall, it all hits the spot, that groove, that rhythm, the sound, we can't get enough.
This volume picks up right where the first one left off, with another collection of classic jams from tons of legendary dancehall artists: Lone Ranger, Nicodemus, Yellowman, Shabba Ranks, Early B, Papa San, Buju Banton, Barry Brown, Johnny Osborne, Tiger, Ini Kamoe, Half Pint, Professor Nuts (!) and tons more.
The sound on this volume tends toward the more reggae side of dancehall's sound, groovy and mellow, lots of horns, shuffling rhythms (THAT rhythm), piano, that distinctive muted guitar strum, it's reggae but you can hear the dancehall sound taking form. The hardest tracks come from the folks you'd probably expect, Shabba Ranks, Buju Banton, and a lot of that has to do with their bad-ass growly rough ragged voices and their super intense delivery, but all the tracks here are awesome. Anyone into the various Trojan comps, the Soul Jazz Dynamite comps, all the Studio One collections, will definitely one this (and the first volume as well!).
As with all the Soul Jazz releases, the cd version (not the lps, sadly) includes a massive booklet, with super extensive and meticulously researched liner notes and tons of amazing photos.
Volume 2 in Soul Jazz's awesome series of Dancehall comps, a rough history of dancehall from the eighties and beyond, which for folks at aQ is of specific interest cuz you know we love us some dancehall, from the early days of reggae dancehall, to the super hard heavy modern raga dancehall, it all hits the spot, that groove, that rhythm, the sound, we can't get enough.
This volume picks up right where the first one left off, with another collection of classic jams from tons of legendary dancehall artists: Lone Ranger, Nicodemus, Yellowman, Shabba Ranks, Early B, Papa San, Buju Banton, Barry Brown, Johnny Osborne, Tiger, Ini Kamoe, Half Pint, Professor Nuts (!) and tons more.
The sound on this volume tends toward the more reggae side of dancehall's sound, groovy and mellow, lots of horns, shuffling rhythms (THAT rhythm), piano, that distinctive muted guitar strum, it's reggae but you can hear the dancehall sound taking form. The hardest tracks come from the folks you'd probably expect, Shabba Ranks, Buju Banton, and a lot of that has to do with their bad-ass growly rough ragged voices and their super intense delivery, but all the tracks here are awesome. Anyone into the various Trojan comps, the Soul Jazz Dynamite comps, all the Studio One collections, will definitely one this (and the first volume as well!).
As with all the Soul Jazz releases, the cd version (not the lps, sadly) includes a massive booklet, with super extensive and meticulously researched liner notes and tons of amazing photos.
Volume 2 in Soul Jazz's awesome series of Dancehall comps, a rough history of dancehall from the eighties and beyond, which for folks at aQ is of specific interest cuz you know we love us some dancehall, from the early days of reggae dancehall, to the super hard heavy modern raga dancehall, it all hits the spot, that groove, that rhythm, the sound, we can't get enough.
This volume picks up right where the first one left off, with another collection of classic jams from tons of legendary dancehall artists: Lone Ranger, Nicodemus, Yellowman, Shabba Ranks, Early B, Papa San, Buju Banton, Barry Brown, Johnny Osborne, Tiger, Ini Kamoe, Half Pint, Professor Nuts (!) and tons more.
The sound on this volume tends toward the more reggae side of dancehall's sound, groovy and mellow, lots of horns, shuffling rhythms (THAT rhythm), piano, that distinctive muted guitar strum, it's reggae but you can hear the dancehall sound taking form. The hardest tracks come from the folks you'd probably expect, Shabba Ranks, Buju Banton, and a lot of that has to do with their bad-ass growly rough ragged voices and their super intense delivery, but all the tracks here are awesome. Anyone into the various Trojan comps, the Soul Jazz Dynamite comps, all the Studio One collections, will definitely one this (and the first volume as well!).
As with all the Soul Jazz releases, the cd version (not the lps, sadly) includes a massive booklet, with super extensive and meticulously researched liner notes and tons of amazing photos.
Killer new collection jam packed with aQ faves, a vinyl only primer on the San Francisco underground. Most folks won't need to know much more than this:
EXCLUSIVE TRACKS FROM THEE OH SEES, TY SEGALL, THE FRESH & ONLYS, SONNY 7 THE SUNSETS, KELLY STOLTZ, TIM COHEN, THE SANDWITCHES...
But there's way more, there's also Hannah And Raven of Grass Widow, the Trainwreck Riders, the Exray's, Paula Frazier (of Tarnation), Dylan Shearer, Jacques Butters, and Donovan Quinn + The 13th Month (he of the Skygreen Leopards), a pretty stellar collection, and it sounds as good as you might imagine. Sonny & The Sunsets' offer up some warm summery jangle, the Fresh & Only's get all new wave with a song that sounds at first like Devo's version of "Working In A Coalmine", before getting all twangy and reverby, Thee Oh Sees track is a twisted garbled-vocal sixties shuffle, a twisted murky Monster Mash groove, Tim Cohen offers up a bit of classic Beatles-esque pop, haunting and stripped down, the Ty Segall track is a snotty noisy garage rock dirge that RULES, and we could go on.
Needless to say, fans of any or all of the above outfits are gonna want this, and it just might introduce you to some other local combos that could very well become new favorites...
Last Summer, legendary New Zealand rocker Chris Knox, of the mighty Tall Dwarfs, suffered a life altering stroke, rendering him bed ridden, mostly unable to speak, and facing a long slow recovery. Stroke is a benefit record to help pay for Knox's recovery, and is a celebration of his life and music, featuring tons of rock luminaries, paying tribute, in the form of covers of songs from throughout Knox's long career. And judging from the folks participating, it's easy to see weren't the only ones who loved Knox and his music.
The most hyped track here is not surprisingly, the first actual new recording from Neutral Milk Hotel's Jeff Mangum, since, well, since the last NMH record, and it's of course awesome. That voice, the stridently strummed acoustic guitar, and the fact that it's one of Knox's best tracks, "Sign On The Dotted Line", so perfect. And for those new to Knox, you'd be forgiven for thinking it was a Mangum original, clever lyrics, unforgettable melody, so good. Worth the price of admission alone for NMH superfans, as is the chance to help out someone who's given us so much amazing music. But it's not just Mangum, there's Bill Callahan of Smog, AC Newman from New Pornographers, Lambchop, The Verlaines, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, The Mountain Goats, Alec Bathgate (the OTHER Tall Dwarf), Hamish Kilgour, Pumice, Shayne Carter, Skygreen Leopards, Stephin Merritt, Portastatic, David Kilgour, The Chills, Jay Reatard (RIP) and more!
And it's a testament to the songs of Chris Knox, that all of these versions sound incredible. Whether it's Callahan's darkly moody twang flecked slow burn take on "Lapse", or AC Newman's woozy sunshiney version of the perfect pop gem "Dunno Much About Life But I Know How To Breathe", or Oldham's gorgeous super stripped down, voice about to crack creep of "My Only Friend", or Lambchop's lush old timey lilting "What Goes Up", or Jay Reatard's reverbed, hand clapped "Pull Down The Shades", or Stephin Merritt's super tripped out glitchy, noisy, psychedelic "Beauty", or the dreamy washed out West Coast psych folk take on the Tall Dwarf's "Burning Blue"... We could go on and on, but by now you should have more than enough reasons to pick this up, helping out Knox, snagging a killer collection of amazing songs, by some of your favorite musicians (not to mention all the bands we've never heard of, all of whom impress). Plus hopefully, in addition to supporting Knox in his recovery, folks who have yet to discover the music of Chris Knox and the Tall Dwarfs, will now wonder how they lived without, and can rush out and buy everything they can get their hands on. Cool diecut yellow and black slipcover-ed sleeve too!
Yay! It's been awhile since we've had a new Finder's Keepers release, and this one is amazing!
By now we're all too familiar with the Eastern cinematic pop splendor and sitar funk of Bollywood. But what about Lollywood? Yes, just to the north in Pakistan, the city of Lahore had their own cottage film industry. Perhaps not as well known outside Pakistan, Lollywood was highly profitable in the seventies and eighties, housing a unique music division with its own equivalent of Bollywood's R.D. Burman and Asha Bhole in M. Ashraf and his female collaborator, Nahid Akhtar. With the help of EMI, Pakistani musicians were able to create ambitious music in a world class studio, using far-out instrumentation like Moogs and other synthesizers, accordions, surf-guitars, and tons of traditional hand percussion instruments instead of a proper drum set. It's definitely a far more electric and electronic pop sound , than what we're used to hearing in classic Bollywood music. Having an almost retro-futurist bent in its explosive collision of Eastern and Western musical touchstones: Freak-Beat and Surf Rock meets Space-Age Moog Pop and Urdu Groove! Originally released on 7" mini-lps (a curious marketing scheme was to release one soundtrack on 3 separate 7"s!), this is the first time these wild and delightful cinematic obscurities have been collected. Let's hope more get discovered. This IS the Sound of Wonder!
Slow. Low. Downtuned. Crushing. Heavy. Sludge. Dirge. Doom. Buzz. Rumble. Pound.
By now, the appropriate parties should be paying attention, cuz this is for anyone who uses any or all of those descriptors to talk about the music that moves them. Two sprawling discs of ultra heaviness, all weirdly based on strangling scenes from horror movies, all tending toward the slow and low, a handful of aQ faves, a bunch of groups new to us, but all purveyors of metallic crush of one form or another.
The first disc is frontloaded for aQ, beginning with an exclusive track from UK doomlords Atavist, who start things off with some pretty delicate guitar, which is just a slow build toward a heaving wall of lumbering sludge, glacial and epic, pummeling and monstrous, growled vocals, and massive drum crush, but that delicate opening guitar continues on beneath the heaviness above, adding a strange vibe to the proceedings. UK bruisers offer up 3 slabs of feedback drenched Eyehategod worship, not all that slow, but buzzy and stonery and low slung with some awesome superfuzz and wildly howled vox. French one man sludge outfit The Austrasian Goat slows it waaaaaay doooooown, to a gut wrenching crawl, channeling, classic ultra funereal doom, into some gloriously abject sludge.
Up next is The Whorehouse Massacre, a Canadian one man band who spews some sick, super distorted ultra sludge doom, awesome stuff, we definitely need to hear more from this guy.
All the bands on the second disc are new to us, beginning with Stasis, who do their own take on twisted downtuned heaviness, offering up weird acoustic interludes between the blown out bursts of howled and shrieked dirgery. Feast Of Sins are classic funeral doom, even offering up one track of grim black ambience, bookended by some glacial gloomy creeps. Ghost Empire are another rad sludge doom combo, but with a bit of groove, after some super skeletal spaced out ambience, these guys piledrive with churning riffs, big drums, and throat shredding vox. And finally, Welter In Thy Blood, who hail from LA, offer up a seriously harrowing chunk of blackened doom drenched ambience, sick inhuman vocals, super spare drums, riffs that ooze like black tar, the whole track like a Khanate jam played at 16rpm.
Lots of killer stuff, all slow and low and heavy, doom, drone, sludge, if that's your thing, then THIS is most definitely for you.
We've been enjoying PSF's series of "Tokyo Flashback" comps for almost two decades now, going all the way back to the first one in 1991! Every couple of years the Tokyo-based label puts out a fascinating new Flashback collection, documenting the most underground and otherworldly of psych units to mysteriously materialize in our plane of existence (er, specifically Tokyo, Japan) via seemingly occult means, perhaps called forth by the eternal vibrations of ancestral acts like High Rise, Fushitsusha, Ghost and White Heaven (all of whom appeared on early Tokyo Flashback volumes).
So here now is auspicious installment number seven, and it's conceived around the concept of live psychedelic improvisation, as put into practice (and recorded for posterity) one evening at the Koenji Show Boat club in Tokyo on May 31st, 2009. There's six lengthy tracks from six obscure acts, most of 'em totally new to us (all except for drone duo Hasegawa-Shizuo, whose new Utech album we reviewed last list). These improvs range from quiet droning blissouts to sheer ear-scraping skronk. Oh, and yes indeed, there's also one solid dose of amplifier-frying psychrock jamming, 'cause no Tokyo Flashback comp would be complete without some of THAT.
To get down to cases, on this Flashback you'll find squealing free jazz freakout from the energetic Derakushi; delicate and haunting organic drone by Le Son De L'Os, who unfurl the longest track here at close to 20 minutes, utilizing acoustic guitar, voice, and flute among other things; some onkyo styled skitter and silence, "whispered" by guitar/contrabass/percussion trio Bon No Kubo; avant garde exploration of traditional Japanese shakuhachi sounds, by the Sabu Orimo Unit; the unique spacious sonic ceremony of the aforementioned Hasegawa-Shizuo duo; and raging distortodelic garage rock in the grand tradition courtesy of power trio Touyounomajyo, chanelling the likes of Les Rallies.
The cd booklet includes info (in English as well as Japanese) on each artist, all of whom we'll be looking out for more music by, some of it no doubt to appear in future on PSF...
Time Examined is a monograph that documents Mika Vainio's scores for installation, film, theater, and performance, sounding very much like the work that Vainio has been releasing through Touch in recent years. As most folks probably already know, Vainio is half of the minimalist techno project Pan Sonic, but his solo work has become increasingly devoid of rhythm, with suspended tones, industrially-minded field recordings, prolonged electrical gasps, explorations into signal decay, and metallic echoes cast upon a black canvas of expansive nothingness. These installations within employ numerous visual cues - vintage clocks, old lightbulbs, transistor radios, vacuum tubes, Soviet-era electrical components, industrial films from the 1940s, and other ephemeral equipment from science laboratories from a past era. There had always been something elegantly retrograde about Vainio's electronic tinkerings with sound, and his installation work certainly reinforces this reading into his work. The accompanying 92 page book features tons of images from these installations, films, performances, and dance pieces with accompanying texts from CM von Hausswolff and Daniela Cascella. The first of the two cds features scores from over the past 15 years; and the second disc features the tone-plus-bleep split 1997 release Mikro Makro that Vainio produced alongside Carsten Nicolai (then recording just as Noto). A very nicely designed document!
Latest full-length from these Hawkwind worshipping drug-drone psychedelic space rockers from New York, after their killer long players Heads On Fire and Glitter Glamor Atrocity, as well as 7 or 8 other kick ass cd-r's AND a couple 12"s, all leading us here, quite possibly their heaviest and most full realized record yet.
Beginning with "Dead", a track we're already pretty obsessed with, as it was the teaser track from the last 12", and even after spinning the 12" to, um, death, it's still a doozy: fuzzy, druggy, looped and hypnotic, with dreamy soft singing, beneath billowing clouds of distorted guitars, all hazy and super space rocky, definitely channeling the spirits of Loop and Spacemen 3, totally hypnotic, like a blown out krautrock jam drenched in tons of effects, you can almost hear the flashing strobes, and clouds of glowing smoke, the track just oozes druggy bliss.
And druggy bliss pretty much describes the whole record. "Countin Sevens" is a slow burning meander through some otherworldly landscape if prismatic clouds and barren moonlit expanses, the drums tribal and motorik, the guitar strummy and jangly, the bass throbbing and dense, all wound up into yet another seemingly endless sprawl of psychedelic excess, hazy, bleary and so utterly enthralling.
"Three Quarters" is the first track to get TRULY riffy, a sort of Stooges / Loop hybrid, the band locked into a churning loping rhythm, the vocals weirdly processed, exploding occasionally into even heavier double time downtuned grooves, before slipping back into that opening lope, before breaking down into 4 minutes of droned out space psych drift, wild tangled leads, long sheets of rumbling buzz, streaks of feedback, the bass and drums locked into a super heavy groove, another track that could (and probably should) go on forever.
"Let The Right One In" is one of two tracks that crack the 12 minute mark, beginning with field recordings of street sounds and tolling bells, dogs barking and whirling wind, all set a top a washed out bed of murmured guitars, a simple spidery bassline, shuffling drums, a soft focus shimmer, a brooding ballad, that gradually grows more and more post/math rocky, but never truly letting loose, until the last few minutes, but this time the psych freakout is reeled in, and instead the band just get a little epic and majestic, with thick looped riffage, soaring chords, repeating mantra like as the song finally unwinds. "We Will Rise" is a super minimal stretch of gurgling effects laden murk, with some spare drumming, soft squalls of guitar glimmer and a warm liquid bassline running through it, leading directly into "Glacial" which is in fact glacial, a thick whirring drone, muted buzz, and grinding downtuned whirs wound tight into a softly pulsing minimal drift, with some seriously SUNNO)))-like doomic swells off in the background, haunting and hushed and seriously ominous.
Which leads perfectly into the epic closer, "Polvere Di Stelle", fuzz bass, big drums, weary ethereal vocals, and guitars galore, a hazy washed out drug rock space out, more tangled leads, swells of super distorted wah wah riffage, the drums wild and forceful, the whole song a massive lurching beast, building to a super chaotic psychedelic blowout, a speaker melting crescendo, drums colliding like atoms, the guitars whirling and howling, the vocals another hazy layer, everything locked into a churning hypnorock sprawl spreading out into the cosmos...
The cd comes in a cool mini lp style full color gatefold sleeve, the lp is housed in an eye popping super elaborate psychedelic silver foil metallic sleeve and is EXTREMELY limited....
Another month, another Wire, another few hours to spend readling about all sorts of interesting music & musicians. This issue features Alasdair Roberts and "the wyrd sound of Glasgow" on the cover, along with stuff about Maria Rosenfeld, The Moodies, Chocolate Monk's Dylan Nyoukis (doing the Invisible Jukebox), Yabby You (RIP), Geiom, and more... including the usual reviews, news, charts, columns, and so forth. Our fave thing this: the pictures of French sound artist Celeste Boursier-Mougenot's installation in London, a roomful of finches and plugged-in electric guitars on which they can perch. We'd love to hear it!
On the cover: Kompakt's Matias Aguayo. Inside: Klimek, Lindstrom & Christabelle, Beach House, Neon Indian, Glasser, and lots more. Interviews, reviews, news, all the usual stuff about hip electronic/indie musics.
Yeast Culture was a project that blossomed (or would 'festered' be more suitable here?) in Seattle during the mid-'80s, producing eerie soundfields of murky tape-collage, synth-noise, and junkyard ritualism, all of which firmly planted Yeast Culture within the cassette culture that brought forth G.R.O.S.S. tapes, Sound Of Pig, and of course the countless recordings of recycled music from RRR. Yeast Culture operated as something of a squatter collective, occupying abandoned buildings, setting up shows within those spaces, and eventually taking up residence in a warehouse space in (then) ungentrified part of downtown Seattle, with all sorts of installations, screenprinting, photography, and residue smeared paintings oozing out of Yeast Culture's creative output.
This recording marked the first release for the collective, originally released on cassette in 1987 (or thereabouts) and has been reissued in the same format as the original with collaged wallpaper mounted to board and xeroxed drawings sandwiched around the hand-painted tape and held together in a plastic bag. A bit cumbersome as an object, but certainly true to the tape culture mentality of the time. Drawn out sessions of clanks, bangs, and scrapes within those dank industrial spaces dominate the Yeast Culture ethos, but the group slices into murk with zoner synth sequencing (much more industrial minded than the Emeralds, Oneohtrix Point Never, Caboladies set), masticated vocalizing further mangled through electronics, tactile object manipulation, field recordings, and tape compressed noise. All together, it was not all that far from the contemporary work of Cranioclast, Premature Ejaculations, P16.D4 (at their most primitive), and even some of the looser Nurse With Wound collages. A great document for sure, and in all likelihood, pretty damn limited!
It's hard to believe these guys broke up close to two years ago, they keep a higher profile than most active bands, and they definitely release more records than lots of proper not-defunct outfits, but we're not complaining, amongst the many floorcore bands out there, these guys definitely shone brightly, whereas most were content to just plug in a rack of effects and make an ear splitting racket, these guys always did more with their noise(s), sometimes subtly, sometimes not so, even at their noisiest and most abrasive, they infused their crunch and skree with melody and texture, and were definitely capable of crafting some moments of sublime beauty, which is where this newest, and supposedly final Yellow Swans release positions itself. Gorgeously ambient, but Yellow Swans ambient, which means rife with strange layers, and sublimated rhythms, noise, but soft noise, the first track explodes in a cloud of grey noise, but it never gets too harsh, instead the duo soften the edges, add a lurching buried pulse, wrapping everything in a gauze of smeared melody, and woozy shimmer, it almost sounds like krautrock broadcast via shortwave and played back on a wax cylinder, but at extremely high volume, gritty, and hissy, but washed out and dreamlike, all wrapped around a skeletal rhythm, looped and mesmeric, it's only 4 minutes, but we definitely could have dug this track stretched out to fill up the whole record. The 13+ minute "Opt Out" begins all spaced out and dreamy, lots of shifting textures, undulating layers, hazy chordal streaks way off in the distance, eventually building to a white hot squall of psych noise, that is definitely harsh and heavy, but within the chaos of colliding sound particles, rhythms skitter subtly, melodies loop and intertwine, it's almost like pretty Merzbow, if that were even possible, which it seems it is...
The rest of the record dials back the noise, instead opting to drift and shimmer and creep, letting the sounds ooze and sprawl, sending notes into the ether, like sonic flower petals drifting on a swirling churning black stream, bits of guitar chime and ring out, the recording glitches out, sound cut out, throb, and pulse, swells of almost SUNNO)))-like buzz surface and then dissipate, streaks of near pop ambience hover over bells and chimes, and looped melodies, fractured chunks of warm whirring sound, crackle and hiss and rumble crafted into crystalline expanses of prismatic glow, long ominous drones unfurl into hushed black ambience, shot through with warm, languid psych guitar skree, with the tracks occasionally building to a howling lysergic speaker shredding climax, but just as often splintering into warped shards of melted muted melody, and allowed to drift lazily and slowly settle into the darkness below, or rise to the heavens above. So gorgeous. These guys are definitely missed.
The vinyl version (and ONLY the vinyl version) includes a bonus disc, featuring 70 minutes of extra music, including what sound like reworked and extended versions of some of the songs on the record proper...
