About time! After eight years, finally the debut record from this fearsome local black metal fivesome sees the light of day ON VINYL. The cd is currently out of print too, making this all the more essential. Like the cd version did, the lp comes in a rather deluxe package. Mastered at 45 rpm for extra fidelity, it's two slabs of clear vinyl packaged in a gatefold, handbound booklet with art and handlettered lyrics, inside a thick silkscreened cover, limited to 500 copies! As impressive as the original cd's "storybook" packaging, definitely the way this deserves to be vinyl-ized, in style.
Here's what we said back when about the cd release, though by now you probably know all about this band, considering all the accolades they've garnered here and elsewhere, with their latest opus The Tenant, on Profound Lore, being highlighted here not long ago...
Ludicra is yet another project from the fertile metal mind of John Cobbett (Hammers Of Misfortune, The Lord Weird Slough Feg, Iron Cemetary, etc.), this time with the help of local rockers/scene fixtures Aesop (Hickey, Dr. Dre Del, etc.), Christy Cather (Missile Command), Ross Sewage (Impaled), and Laurie Sue Shanaman (who works at the veterinarian where Andee's girlfriend and Erik his housemate take their cats!).
Ludicra's debut reveals them to be a highly advanced black metal creation. They're complex, moody, darkly psychedelic, and 'post-rocky' like AQ-faves Enslaved - a very good thing. The droning savage trance rock of another AQ black metal fave (and fellow San Franciscans) Weakling is also evident. Maybe it's Aesop's punk-derived drumming, or the song-writing dynamics, but while this is very metal indeed it also betrays an awareness of other strands of underground rock. And of course it's heavy, textured, and exceedingly well-crafted, as you would expect from the pen/plectrum of Sir Lord John Cobbett.
Ludicra has two singers: Christy (who also plays guitar) and Laurie Sue, and while both vocalists are women, you won't hear any of the sweet singing that Hammers of Misfortune's female vocalist does. No, it's all very extreme - except for some wordless background choruses and an interlude or two of gentle chanting, they mostly deliver scary throat-shredding screams that upend gender stereotypes. But, like Hammers, having more than one vocalist allows for interesting variety and dynamics. Lots of acoustic interludes and dark and rhythmic breakdowns that hint at the band members' diverse indie rock/post punk/punk rock backgrounds. That, and Ludicra's ability to yet generate at the same time such a convincing black metal atmosphere, makes for a very satisfying and compelling listen.
Vacant lots. Empty storefronts. Warehouses pocked with shattered windows, rusted walls, and pigeon shit. These are haunts for Christopher McFall when he collects field recordings in and around his hometown of Kansas City. The area where McFall has a studio is one of the rundown areas of town, that once was a thriving nexus of commerce and culture, but for the most part has crumbled under neglect; and The City Of Almost is a well constructed album that wholly embody the grit, decay, murk, and dust of those crumbling spaces. His processed recordings amplify the melancholy of the space through his ominous looping techniques and the atmospheres of malaise which hang upon elongated drones raked with wind-swept textures and numerous passages of scraped objects distressed by the elements over the years. These moments of The City Of Almost do recall some of the earlier dystopic works from John Grzinich, Michael Northam, and the non Jewelled Antler sounds of Loren Chasse; but McFall furthers the theatrical and allegorical sense of neglect through a fortunate discovery of an stash of musty old records and a barely functioning turntable during his wanderings. Thus, the scratchiness of dust upon the needle and ghostly hints of a forgotten melody also work their way into McFall's work, with references to Philip Jeck being noted even as McFall slows everything down way further than Jeck ever did to match the turgid pacing of the album. We've heard a few pieces from McFall over the years, and this one is the strongest to date.
RETURN OF THE URNS!! Quite possibly our favorite one man black doom outfit is back, with installment FIVE, in his ever expanding canon of droning downtuned blackness, and as always, it's gorgeously and lovingly hand packaged, a black folded cardstock sleeve, printed in thick red ink on the front and back, a strange black on black skeleton mandala on the inside.
The big change this time around is that Monument Of Urns has outgrown the 3"cd, this latest track, clocks in at a whopping 29 minutes, which seemingly forced a shift to a proper 5" cd-r. But beyond that, all is well, and grim, and bleak, and harrowingly dooooomy in the world of Urns. When we first put this in the computer, the song info came up "When The Wind Stopped Blowing - A Read To Your Child audiobook!" And while "When The Wind Stopped Blowing" does make a perfectly doomy title for a record, for this record even, evoking some sort of blackened wasteland, a burnt expanse of deadness and pestilence, these sounds are definitely a bit too intense for all but the grimmest of child folk.
A churning, roiling mass of near static black riffage, crumbling and distorted, oozing and filthy, a SUNNO))) baked crawl, that seems to grow more and more dense and caustic and black, as the track progresses. It's not until over 10 minutes in that the drums finally kick in, a BPM of say maybe 3 or 4, a seriously lugubrious tarpit creep, way beyond funereal, this is doom that is dead and buried and dug up again, caked with blood and mud and human flesh, a lumbering sick sonic behemoth, ultra doom, many many o'd dooooom, crushing and punishing and pummeling, total black hole, hollow earth, end of humanity doom, eventually ditching the drums and forward momentum, as the shuddering black grime oozes back into whatever black void birthed it. So goddamn good. Why Urns isn't up there with Moss and Corrupted and SUNNO))) and Monarch and the rest of the grim slowpoke royalty we'll never understand, needless to say, if you dig the very very slow, and ultra ultra low, and can't get enough oooooozing blackness and soul crushing dooooooom, then prostrate yourself before the Monument Of Urns, and let the buzz and rumble wash over you in thick filthy black torrents...
Blues rock sometimes gets a bad rap around aQ, one aQuarius employee in particular is fond of hurling the descriptor 'blues rock' as an epithet, used to describe lots of cheesy bar rock, and hokey dad rock, and all manner of stuff that sounds more suited for pubs or parking lots than the hallowed halls of aQ. But even that aQ-er will happily admit, that there's plenty of blues rock that does indeed kick heaps of ass, Blue Cheer, ZZ Top, Budgie, Captain Beyond, Moses, Juan De La Cruz, Leaf Hound, Jerusalem...
Gotta mention Jerusalem in the case of this new blues rockin' Siltbreeze band from Columbus Ohio, considering that the vocals here are a dead ringer for the Jerusalem dude, and there's of course Zeppelin-isms galore, it's that perfect mix of super distorted bluesy fuzz, and hooky pop, not to mention some killer psychedelic leads, and some awesome lazy vox that perfectly suit the band's serpentine sonic slither. Another band these guys totally remind us of are retro heavy rock revivalists The Want, whose only full length sounded like it could have in fact been a reissue of some lost seventies hard rock gem. Which is definitely the case here, the song writing, the guitar tone, the songs, definitely not of this time, cemented by the 11 minute final track, a live in the studio jam, all skittery rhythms, wild tangled fuzz guitar leads, throbbing bass, that totally sounds like it was lifted from some chunk of seventies vinyl. Further proving they're really the real blues rock deal, they even do a Ten Years After cover. Not sure how (or why) these guys ended up on Siltbreeze, but these jams definitely have us embracing the blues rock, BIG time.
We've been digging these guys for a while now, one of those bands who take the downtuned metallic crunch of bands like Neurosis, and add all sorts of post and math rock to the mix, a combination that when done right, we pretty much can't get enough of. And the thing is, these guys do it about as good as anyone. This latest disc, a short-ish 4 song ep, just drives that point home. The opening title track has got it all, sick downtuned riffs, bellowed vocals, spidery basslines, incredible super buys drumming, a lurching lumbering weirdly melodic behemoth, with some awesome soaring breakdowns, with what sounds like organ buzzing away beneath it all. One immediately noticeable thing is the shift toward something much poppier. The mix of crushing heaviness and killer hooks and melodies, definitely reminds us of Torche, but unlike the overt poppiness of that band, these guys bury that pop under an avalanche of metal prog and math metal, that turns the pop into something else completely.
These tracks are all over the place, the second track starts out all folky, clean steel string guitar, crooned clean vocals, which gives away to some devastatingly heavy chug and howl, and the track constantly shifts, from soaring epic majesty, to tangled ultra prog stop start stutter, with chiming guitars, and more super complex drumming. "Restore" is about as doomy as they get, somehow channeling both Godspeed and Candlemass into a sort of post metal epic, still rife with pop and progisms, but super moody and mournful and HEAVY.
The whole record culminates in the final track, a cover, and an odd one at that, Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes", which could have been a disaster, a tongue in cheek cock up spoiling a pretty perfect record. But instead, they OWN in, slowing it waaaay down, turning it into a super melodic doomy dirge, that almost sounds more like the Deftones, or Lifelover, or one of those bands unafraid to meld heartfelt pop with heaving heaviness, and it's good, so good that it has us digging a song we definitely could have gone forever without hearing again. It helps that the chorus is transformed into a churning blown out crush, and that the whole song is streaked with screaming howling high end guitar. Awesome.
One of two new releases from Mr. Aidan Baker. One under his own name, a gorgeously druggy twangy slab of slowcore, and this the latest from his slow motion sludge metal doom duo Nadja.
And it's a killer. One single 62 minute long track, bass, guitar and drum machine, all woven into a slowly undulating soundscape of blissy drone and monstrous pummel.
The disc begins with 5 minutes of glistening shimmer, a slowly shifting swirl of bleary eyed sound. before the hammer falls and the beast lurches forth. A lush, massive, lumbering dirge, but rife with dense layers of sound, nearly orchestral in it's depth, a cyclical main riff, downtuned and dripping with distortion, beneath that, a strange glimmering melodic sparkle, as if millions of tiny diamonds were sprinkled into the blackened tarpit sludge, beneath it, a simple machinelike rhythm pulses relentlessly, like some sort of robotic heartbeat. It's like some Frankensteinian collage of Godflesh, Jesu, SUNNO))) and old Swans. It's heavy and bleak and doomy, but like Jesu, the sound is imbued with a strange warmth, and emotional mystery, that makes this much more than an exercise in guitardrone.
And the sound is not static, it wavers and shifts, the melody subtly changing shape, all without the rhythm ever wavering.
About 20 minutes in, the wall of guitar drops away, leaving simple distorted strums to float weightless above a single drum hit, repeated over and over, strangely meditative and serene. Before building back up again, but instead of sounding metallic, it sounds lush and expansive, the guitars billowing and glowing, a mighty Ur-drone, alive and vibrant.
Almost halfway through, a totally amazing riff is introduced, a moaning minor key melody that soars over the swirling blackness below, and adds all sorts of tension, a lurching slow motion stoner rock almost, that gives away once again to a blissed out soundscape of soft fluttering tones and warm muted colors, before erupting into one final salvo, a blinding burst of white light from the mouth of infinity, a soul shearing wave of incandescent guitars and psychedelic overload. Like Merzbow filtered through M83 and played by Philip Jeck, a glorious blast of spectral majesty, radiant and absolutely breathtaking.
Heaps Of Nothing marks the return of mysterious (to us, anyway) Aussie noise rockers Naked On The Vague. The band mines similar territory as groups like Blank Dogs and Times New Viking, making Siltbreeze an ideal home for them. The songs are dark and grimy, sounding like something recorded in an underground bunker, or maybe a meat locker, but below this maelstrom sit some pretty catchy pop songs. The band knows how to overload their speakers for maximum saturation, with the guitars cutting through like razorblades and the warm organ buzzing out nice little melodies. Above it all are some cool monotone female vocals and an ever present caveman drum thump. The band doesn't really stray from this formula, nor would we want them too, as the album seems to thrive on all the negative energy here, a bit like Joy Division and Catherine Wheel meeting in a fist fight while strung out on black tar heroin. Noisy, a tad gothy, and with a nice garagey sheen. Cool stuff.
Hurrah! Album #5 for longtime aQ darlings The New Pornographers finds them picking right up from where Challengers left off, and tweaking a few things in the best possible ways. Together's dozen pop songs are polished up to an absolute gleam, primed and ready to embrace your ears. The album's tempo is easy-going, and the production is expansive, yet comfily even keeled. Very welcoming and lovely. The powerful and nuanced voices of Neko Case and Kathryn Calder have been brought even more to the fore (such as on the robust "Your Hands (Together)" and the jaunty lilting "Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk"), and serve as a wonderful counterbalance to the yearning yelps of Carl Newman and Dan Bejar, evoking varying depths of wistfulness and melancholy. Never fear, the occasional, fantastical obtusity from Mr. Bejar does inevitably surface (check out "Silver Jenny Dollar"). He wrote a quarter of the album's songs, and headmaster Newman penned the rest. Their contrasting approaches have always been an unusual, but strangely effective pairing. And with each record they've seemed to draw closer and closer in step while not losing their individual quirks. This has only made the band's overall sound stronger and more solidified. Actually that is what makes this album so darn good. The band members have struck a resounding balance and unity. Although the band has long been classified as a supergroup, often to the point of distraction, and despite the fact that the career of one member in particular has skyrocketed in recent times, the band is more... uhh, together than ever before (sorry, how could we resist?!), and each song is a glorious fully realized ensemble piece. While we sure do yearn for the explosive candy-coated romp of their early effervescent tunes, we also find the honed and well composed spot that this mighty Canadian pop troupe have settled into quite easy on our ears too. So, need we say? Heartily recommended! Sure to please their legions of fans and win them legions more!
And fyi, if you're lucky, while supplies last, you get a free limited edition bonus 7" with your purchase of this album, featuring the New Pornos covering 3 songs by Outrageous Cherry! (Note, though, if you're a mailorderer getting Together on the cd format, you should tell us if you want the 7" or not, 'cause it might affect your shipping options...)
Some of us around here have become a little obsessed with Ke$ha, and that song "Tik Tok". The song is crazy addictive, and the fact that she's kind of a babe and has that whole haughty trampy rockstar thing going on, what can we say? But if we were gonna be totally honest, THIS is what we really wish Ke$sha sounded like, it's still sexy and slutty and a little bit filthy, but musically, it's way more dark and fractured and fucked up. A sort of Missy Elliot meets Glass Candy electro thing, but with plenty of T. Raumschmiere or Motor mixed in. Big stuttery beats, squelchy synths, woozy loops, twisted and tweaked effects, thick buzzy bass, and some sultry vocals that here and there are definitely a dead ringer for Ke$ha, but again, it's so much darker and more sinister, less singing, than sort of mewled and whispered and spoken, a sex kitten sort of croon, but the vocals often doused in effects or weirdly sped up, and screwed with in some way, which perfectly mashes with the constantly shifting sonic mashup in the background, all woozy and washed out and Portishead-y one second, deconstructed sliced and diced Art Of Noise the next, synthy Daft Punk euro groove the next, but always groovy, funky, and sexy, and yeah, this is the sort of shit they should be playing on the radio, even though it's probably way more suited to some dark and dingy danceclub in Berlin, way on the wrong side of the tracks.
More of an installation artist, who delights in the play between the psychedelic and the clinical, Christine Odlund proves to be quite talented when it comes to her own darkened electro-acoustic composition, holding her own next to the likes of Thomas Koner, Matt Shoemaker, and BJ Nilsen. Throughout her catalogue of installations, video, and sound, Odlund has been interested in simulating synaesthesia, the neurological phenomena of the transposition of one sensorial experience with another - in other words, the ability to 'see' sound or 'hear' touch. Odlund's installations feature overblown projections of microscopic organisms displayed in dazzling hyperdelic colors and hung against jet black environments; and her sound work is a like-minded chimera, although it's much heavier, darker, and blacker. Low-end modulating tones pool around a flattened hiss to start the record, setting a suitably grim, dark-ambient vibe. Squeaking metals echo in the distance, as the morass of blackened sound builds to a shadowy crescendo of dark noise. Slow loops and theremin-like swells of tone offer an oceanic interlude that leads into a crackling collage of VLF recordings, electro-static bristlings, insect choruses, and various crunchings that sound like a massive amplification of an army of beetles. Two shortened tracks of percolating computer music sequences and electronic algorithms break up Odlund's abstracted drone, crunch, and hiss which return in fine effect by the end of the album. Very nicely done.
More awesome fuzzy distorted sixties style garage rock from Mr. John Dwyer and his Oh Sees, the first full length, full band effort after Dog Poison, the record on which Dwyer played all the instruments himself. It's easy to forget just how great Thee Oh Sees are, and what a great songwriter Dwyer really is, after all the sweaty chaotic live shows, non stop touring, record after record, but holy shit are these tracks killer. Especially the 13+ minute title track that opens up the record, beginning with two minutes of classic super catchy Oh Sees, super distorted guitars, a cool stuttery rhythm, reverb all over the place, howled echoed vox, and lots and lots of 'ooooooh's, surely plenty for a song, but "Warm Slime" has way more to offer with its next 10 or so minutes, a cool extended breakdown with a loping drum beat, some sixties girl group sounding vocals, jagged bursts of vocal / guitar crunch, super trancey and hypnotic, in the style of classic sixties funk and soul breakdowns, where live, probably the band is introduced, or there's some interaction with the crowd, but on the record, it's just a chance for the band to spread out and lock into a super minimal groove, and see just what they can do with it.
The other six tracks are mostly just what we've come to expect (and want) from Dwyer and company. Fuzzy echo drenched sweat soaked garage pop, loads of buzz and howl and crunch, kick ass drumming, lots of hooks, more oooh's and aaah's, but there are a couple surprises, most notably the fuzzed out, super distorted drone rock dirge of "Flash Bats", a hazy sprawling motorik druggy groove that finds the Oh Sees getting all Shjips style, which most definitely suits them, big time. As always awesome. And if like us, you're STILL hankering for more, it's always good to know that it probably won't be all that long before the next record drops. We'll be ready.
And fyi, for the next two weeks, we'll have the cd format of this on a special $2 off sale, so it's $11.98 instead of the regular $13.98, until 5/21/10!
We first heard Operative (a.ka. Scott Goodwin of Bonus) at the Root Strata curated music festival, On Land, last September here at San Francisco's Cafe Du Nord. Expecting to hear some piercing long-form drone meditation, we were pleasantly surprised that Goodwin was joined by two live drummers for a set of exuberant and organic minimal house workouts that were a welcome change of tone from much of the beautiful but exhausting roster of introspective drone experimentation that had been happening throughout the day.
Likewise, we're keen on this 12". "Ramp" begins with a slow-rising siren tone that continually elevates in pitch. As it's countered by other rising tones in a sort of Charlemagne Palestine-ish way, the drums and steady bass tones kick in taking the track to an urgent futuristic thriller as scored by Giorgio Moroder kind of territory. "Pulse" is more organic, taking warm rhythmic synth loops and looping them on top of each other to a pulsating and hypnotic 4/4 rhythm. So good!
This 12" marking Operative's debut comes courtesy of Honey Owens' (Valet, Jackie-O Motherfucker) new label for left-field techno, Ecstacy. Look out for her Miracles Club 12" on a future list!
While the music of Pita, aka Peter Rehberg, can tend toward the harsh and caustic, this archival release, a reissue of Rehberg's first ever solo composition, is anything but, a gorgeously hypnotic, dreamlike rhythmic dronescape that sounds more like Philip Jeck or Tim Hecker than Pita.
The latest in The Tapeworm label's ever expanding catalog of super limited cassette tape oddities and artifacts, Mesmer was originally released in 1995 as part of a compilation, for which the various contributors (including Ryoji Ikeda, CM Von Hausswolff, Robert Hampson, among others) were given a copy of an early vinyl recording, called Mesmer, released on Ash International, and tasked with composing a piece dedicated to Friedrich Mesmer, an "animal magnetist and hypnotist" from the 19th century.
Rehberg's piece is definitely hypnotic, a slow, softly churning, gradually evolving sprawl of muted hiss, smeared pulses, mechanical and industrial, but also warm and organic, a woozy, shimmery landscape of blurred textures and barely there propulsion, and as mentioned above, not at all what you might expect from Pita, plenty of static and buzz, a glowing sepia toned sonic patina wreathing the whole thing, if forced to guess the creator, we definitely would have been thinking Philip Jeck.
The flipside is the same piece, but in a drastically different form, an original dubplate of "Mesmer" that Rehberg used to DJ, presented here with nearly 15 years of accumulated clicks and pops, clouds of hiss and whir, the original even more blurred and washed out and hazy. So so lovely.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES. With cool Savage Pencil cover art.
The Pump was the first project of Nigel Ayers, Daniel Ayers, and Caroline K, which morphed into the Nocturnal Emissions around 1981. Nigel Ayers hand-dubbed all of the tiny editions of The Pump's cassettes on the shittiest tapes he could find in a local market; and when he learned that Rough Trade in London quickly sold through a run of 30 copies, he made a point to find even worse grade tapes for The Pump's recordings. Crap tape, cheap electronics, stop/start editing techniques, and overdriven distortion run throughout The Pump's recordings, which have more of an art-damaged aesthetic in keeping with the likes of the Storm Bugs or the Homosexuals, but don't you worry, there's plenty of Throbbing Gristle to be heard within The Pump's anti-songs. Ayers claims that he released four or five cassettes as The Pump, before shifting into Nocturnal Emissions; and this disc collects various tracks from various cassettes, although nothing is annotated as to where anything originated. It probably doesn't matter, as those cassettes had probably all disintegrated from their structural shittiness. Anyway, The Pump loosely splattered electronic noise and distortion upon cheap drum machine programs, slapped on asynchronous basslines which lurch through the treble crashing production, and even displayed a surprisingly sophisticated use of dub collage techniques to provide some ghostly flourishes of voice, media samples, and scratchy guitar noise amidst the dishevelled sound. This is Industrial Music in the way the Industrial Records released Industrial Music, by way of Throbbing Gristle, Clock DVA, and Cabaret Voltaire all circa 1979; but they also seemed to run parallel to the fucked-up, heroin-splattered noise of Destroy All Monsters as well. It should be noted that there's way more material from The Pump on this disc than found on the Nocturnal Emissions 4lp boxset Lest We Forget from Vinyl On Demand. A gritty free for all from way down deep in the British underground.
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
Yet another pre-Dead Moon band featuring Fred and Toody Cole, thanks to the kind folks at Mississippi. While the Range Rats shares some of its name with another Fred and Toody combo, The Rats, the sound is WAY different. Recorded in 1985, The Range Rats is the Cole's country band, or more accurately cowpunk. Very reminiscent of eighties LA groups like X or Tex And The Horseheads, The Range Rats had that punky twang, dueling boy girl vocals, galloping rhythms, rambunctious and punk rock, but plenty country and catchy.
Some tracks get all reverby and ballad-y like some lost sixties girl group, others are full on punk bluegrass raveups, and still others get all slithery and bluesy, but throughout it all, the twang is ever present, and the vocal interplay and harmonies are awesome, with some cool crunchy distorted guitars thrown into the mix, as well as some surprisingly sensitive, almost power pop sounding classic popsmithery. Never before released at all until now, and Mississippi did it up right, nice thick vinyl, super heavy deluxe jackets, the front adorned with all sorts of dimestore Western novels. Cool!
Of all of the Factory Records gloom merchants, Section 25 has never really garnered much critical success, yet they won over enough allies (notably Joy Division's Ian Curtis and Bernard Sumner) that they were able to last as a self-sustaining project well into the late-80s when they called it quits. Formed in Blackpool by brothers Larry and Vincent Cassidy in 1979, Section 25 was marked by skeletal instrumentation with various emotive patinas that began as post-punk grimness and steadily lightened to a glowing prototype of acid-house (complete with 303 percolations!). "Always Now" -- the group's debut recording released on Factory in 1981 -- falls under the latter camp of lead-colored, death-disco grooves propelled by a spry, if monochromatic rhythm section and jagged swatches of guitar drone. While many of the Factory bands (Crispy Ambulance, Names, Tunnelvision, The Wake, etc.) had been slagged as Joy Division clones, Section 25 admitted their allegiance to Public Image Limited's zenith, "Metal Box" (aka "Second Edition"), even though much of the material from their first EPs were recorded months before Lydon and crew went into the studio. The differences between PiL and SXXV (a nifty shorthand mentioned in their biography by James Nice) are of course noticeable; with Lydon still striving for Situationist revolt through great art and the Cassidy brothers attempting to emote the bleakness of Northern England by hollowing sound as a illusory shadow of music. In essence, Section 25's "Always Now" was an isolationist model for living. It was effective in its bleakness and brilliant in its poetry.
While the Soul Jazz compilation "In The Beginning, There Was Rhythm" offered a solid introduction into the groove-oriented punk of the late '70s / early '80s, its flaws were in its omissions. Fortunately, LTM has kept "Always Now" in print on CD (with tons of extra singles including the Ian Curtis-produced 'Girls Don't Count'), so history may in fact be kind to a band that deserved much better.
Druggy droney space rock doesn't get any cooler than this. Yeah, there's Wooden Shjips and Moon Duo and Black Angels, Heads, White Hills, Eternal Tapestry and Sleepy Sun, but there's just something special about Serena Maneesh. Drawing from the same murky well of effects-drenched Hawkwind heart-of-the-sun space rock psychedelia, motorik tranced out krautrock, and woozy abstract stoner rock, SM infuse their particular brand of dronerock with plenty of My Bloody Valentine shoegaze shimmer, Sonic Youth noise rock and a serious heaping of POP. It's a weird combo, and it could be precisely what keeps SM from blowing up, but it's also what makes their records so awesomely twisted, weirdly catchy, and gloriously druggy and hypnotic.
The opening track here "Ayisha Abyss" might be the murky droned out space rock jam of the year, all hazy streaks of low end, skittery skeletal rhythms, whirling clouds of blurred effects and streaked chordal hum, little splatters of drum machine, mumbled weary vox, and a super far out ending, a little burst of new wave squelch, some manipulated tapemusic, some piano, then a final burst of super fuzzed out cold wave. WEIRD. And awesome. But then it's straight into "I Just Want To See Your Face" which sounds like a perfect Sonic Youth / Swirlies mashup, a hooky noise pop jam, wrapped in wah guitars and strange processed effects, hooky and jangly and noisy but way way poppy. The following track takes the same elements but twists them all up and dubs them out, all super blown out incendiary guitars and swirling backwards effects, pounding processed drums, and a thick cloud of psychguitar freakout.
"Melody For Jaana" is total washed out drone doom balladry, like a female fronted Nadja, slow and lugubrious and syrupy, like My Bloody Valentine at 16 rpm. The awesomely titled "Blow Yr Brains In The Mourning Rain" is a wild squall of jagged guitars, buried vox, chaotic drumming, a gorgeous chunk of super in-the-red noisepop, more nods to Sonic Youth for sure, but much more soft focus.
The final three tracks ditch the sort of spacey heaviness in exchange for some ethereal jangle pop, "D.I.W.S.W.T.T.D" is total lysergic psychpop, that grows more and more tripped out as it progresses, and finally, the record closes with the tropical tinged Beatles-esque jangle pop of "Magdalena (Symphony #8)" complete with flutes and hazy summertime melodies.
Okay so it's not strictly a 'space rock' record, or a 'drone rock' record, it's more like a strange space-y drone-y POP record, but it's got enough sonic weirdness, blown out heaviness, and hypnotic riffery, to balance the pop hooks and sunshiney jangle, and make this one of our new favorites for sure.
Another issue of this rad retro mag from England, featuring Paul Revere and the Raiders on the cover, along with cult power poppers Shoes, psychsters Sun Dial, proggers Caravan, and plenty more... The Stooges, Alex Chilton, The Lemon Drops, The Yardbirds, Granny's Intentions, all that and more this ish.
2009 has been quite a year for noise rock legends Six Finger Satellite. First, long lost recordings from 2001 surfaced as the album Half Control. Now, a few months later, the recently reformed band has returned with its first new studio record, and goddamn it's good to have them back. Sad to say though, but the general response (EXCLUDING this one, of course) seems to be overwhelmingly lukewarm, and even all out negative in some cases. Even around here, the first thing people mention is how this doesn't sound like the Six Finger Satellite of old. Perhaps there is some truth to that claim (though why should it necessarily matter?), but repeated listens really dispel it. It's just that current 6FS is a little less focused on experimental noisiness and more into full on rocking, something they've always done well. It's funny how A Good Year For Hardness is pretty damn bluesy. Maybe some folks just don't dig it, but the big 6FS fans around these parts are definitely pleased. After all, it's not like this shit sounds like typical white boy blues rock that you hear at the county fair. Far from it. This is coked out mutant blues being beamed in from outer space. Mean, depraved blues made by guys who are old enough to step into this territory without embarrassment or any desire to be seen as cool in the eyes of today's indie rockers, who they probably don't even acknowledge. This band has always been ridiculously tight, and the new lineup is no exception. The songs exude a grooving, almost classic rock vibe with warm bass, cool backbeats, and muscular riffage. But then there is singer J. Ryan's trademark vocals, all pissed off and pretty scary, every once in a while punctuated by crazy distorted James Brown-styled screams. And yes, the synths are there, they are just used a bit more sparingly, but to awesome effect. Rarely is the band "quirky" here, but every once in a while, the synths just make everything really weird and almost funny if they weren't within such disturbing songs. A lot of the songs venture into dark, brooding psychedelic territory, almost like some jagged post-punk Doors (some may disagree with this, but whatever). This is probably best demonstrated on closing number "Rise," driven by a warm bass throb and a steady beat with occasional bursts of heavily vibratoed guitar chords. Throughout it, the creepy synths pop up here and there as the barely controlled intensity of non-sceaming J. Ryan scares you just a little more. Awesome.
So far this sonuvabitch is available as an lp only, but the turntable deprived can rejoice over the inclusion of a free download card.
Pretty much every review of Skull Defekts begins with some comment about how confounding these guys are, or what a big surprise the record is, so at this point, having these guys surprise us is exactly what we expect! Yet we're still surprised and confounded every time.
This lp finds Skull Defekts both live and in the studio, with their lineup augmented by some surprising (yep!) additions. The A-side is live, and finds CM Von Hausswolff becoming an honorary Defekt, along with someone called Jean-Louis Huhta, augmenting the core duo of Joachim Nordwall and Henrik Rylander, and we were expecting something, well, noisy, but instead, this is a gorgeous, ultra minimal side long dronescape, hushed layered drift, muted high end sine wave shimmer, the sound growing gradually more dense, thickening, sprawling, the high end more incendiary, the low end more crunchy and distorted, finally building to a bit of a noisy climax, before slipping right back into more minimal dronedriftskree. Quite cool.
The B-side finds the Defekts welcoming Leif Elggren to the group, along with Kent Tankred, this quartet created their sidelong 'jam' live in the studio, and again, it begins as a hushed, barely there field recording, static and hiss, a bit of clatter and scrape, weird distorted buzz, streaks of feedback, tiny buried melodies, sonic fragments drifting in the ether, sonic motes settling on some greyed expanse of blurred mystery, the B-side is definitely headphone listening, the sounds of daily life will for sure overpower the sounds coming out of the speakers, but with headphones, one can enjoy the deep sonic mysteries of this epic chunk of minimal ambient dronemusic.
We'll admit, we're a sucker for Sublime Frequencies, they've yet to release a record that didn't totally blow our minds. Which says as much about SF's curating as it does about the unheard music worldwide. Treasures everywhere, amazing and passionate and personal and far out sounds, being made in homes and yards, on street corners, in bars, at picnics and parties, not conceived for public consumption, meant for a small audience, and often for a specific purpose, getting a glimpse into these magical musical moments is what Sublime Frequencies is all about, and we feel lucky to get to experience these sounds.
This is the third record from Omar Souleyman on Sublime Frequencies, and just might be the best one yet, which is saying A LOT. A collection of live recordings culled from nearly 15 years worth of cassettes, these tracks are incredible, energetic, passionate, so full of life, effusive and emotional, funky and celebratory, and to Western ears, seriously far out. There's almost a wild Bollywood vibe (even though this is from the Middle East, not India), in the vocals, and the rhythms, and with the crazy tangled synthesizer melodies, the propulsive drumming, and Souleyman's distorted, wailed vocal delivery, it all sounds just so perfect, even listening to this music on record, it sounds sweaty and exhausting and cathartic, it's easy to imagine a big crowd of people dancing and bouncing along, freed from all cares and concerns letting the music just carry them away.
Like all Sublime Frequencies releases, the liner notes offer up so much information, on Souleyman, his life, the history of Syria, on Syrian folk music, etc, but even without all that info, if it's just about the music, these are some of the most amazing sounds you'll ever hear. Frantic Eastern melodies, frenetic percussion, analog synths wound around Souleyman's vocals, this is party music, dance music, but not like party or dance music the way we normally think about it. The music of Souleyman is transcendent, spiritual, psychedelic, transformative, a folk pop known as Dabke, rarely heard in the West, perhaps not at all if it wasn't for Sublime Frequencies, and we'd imagine these sounds might be overwhelming for casual world music listeners, it is after all wild and frantic and relentless, the melodies complex and twisted and tangled, there are some moments that verge on folky for sure, the final track is a gorgeous haunting lament, just vocals and buzzing synthesizers, but barring that track, even on the folkier jams, those strange synths, the unique melodies, the repetitive tranced out rhythms, those all transform Souleyman's folk into something much more, and in most cases, it's not long before the band explodes into yet another super intense sweat soaked psychedelic Syrian folk pop workout. So great!
Hmm. There's no point in really "reviewing" Spacemen 3 records at this point. They're surely one of the top 10 greatest bands to ever exist and even with their influence touching so many bands everywhere, no one - NO ONE - sounds like Spacemen 3. They just got it in ways other bands couldn't. Simple as that. It sure is great to have the band's Glass Records output, their first three full lengths, available on vinyl (some nice 180 gram vinyl to boot) for the first time in God knows how long. They look amazing in their heavy duty sleeves, and after years of absorbing every molecule of the shitty looking Taang Records cd versions, seeing these records as they were initially presented puts things into perspective even more. They just look so classic, so timeless, and so many years later, it makes perfect sense why we felt like we uncovered some secret portal when we discovered this band. Any song they ever did is the perfect soundtrack to any moment of any or every day.
Performance was released to fulfill contractual obligations with Glass, sort of an easy solution before moving on to bigger things. Still, it comes completely recommended, as it captures Spacemen 3 in a live setting on the Perfect Prescription tour, and there's no reason to complain about that. Apparently they weren't exactly pleased with this particular set, and the drums are surprisingly low in the mix, but they tear things up just as you would expect, with the molten guitars taking over everything everywhere. Recorded in 1988 in a setting one could imagine the band being quite comfortable in - Amsterdam - Performance is a fiery run through some early classics, and it will no doubt give you further insight into Spacemen 3's revolutionary approach. Goddamn, there sure aren't any bands like this these days.
Nice, now we have these essential albums available on cd too!
Sound Of Confusion was the band's first statement after building up a repertoire for a few years. It's their most aggressive record and even though the future was full of surprises, it is the album that set the template for how most people will describe Spacemen 3: loud droning guitars, a minimal but intensely psychedelic approach that is almost violent in its focus, and of course, an inseparable cloak of drugginess. Lyrically, you just can't fuck with songs like "Losing Touch With My Mind" and their mindblowing cover of Juicy Lucy's "Just One Time", retitled as "Mary Anne". The album contains three originals, and three amazing covers that manage to become originals, and a sort of original/cover hybrid. Everything Spacemen 3 did is worth your time, they're definitely an appropriate band to get obsessed with, so why not start at the beginning?
Hmm. There's no point in really "reviewing" Spacemen 3 records at this point. They're surely one of the top 10 greatest bands to ever exist and even with their influence touching so many bands everywhere, no one - NO ONE - sounds like Spacemen 3. They just got it in ways other bands couldn't. Simple as that. It sure is great to have the band's Glass Records output, their first three full lengths, available on vinyl (some nice 180 gram vinyl to boot) for the first time in God knows how long. They look amazing in their heavy duty sleeves, and after years of absorbing every molecule of the shitty looking Taang Records cd versions, seeing these records as they were initially presented puts things into perspective even more. They just look so classic, so timeless, and so many years later, it makes perfect sense why we felt like we uncovered some secret portal when we discovered this band. Any song they ever did is the perfect soundtrack to any moment of any or every day.
For some people, it's Playing With Fire. For others, probably most, it's The Perfect Prescription, Spacemen 3's ultimate statement and the record where everything was working together in absolute harmony. The record cover itself seems to completely capture the essence of Spacemen 3, with Sonic Boom and Jason Pierce holding their guitars, eyes closed, no doubt concentrating deeply on the contents of their minds. It seems fair to call this their pinnacle, as things would become increasingly more split between the group's mainmen from this point on. The Perfect Prescription is one of those rare albums that is completely beyond criticism. Don't even try. Beginning in classic Spacemen 3 style with "Take Me To The Other Side", the album subsequently incorporates a wide array of influences and styles, from soul to gospel to country, making it clear that, even though they did it better than anyone else, there was far more to this band than just walls of fuzzed out drones. Even with this diversity, everything on the album belongs to Spacemen 3 - especially their cover of the Red Crayola's "Transparent Radiation" - and they were able to harness all their powers into something which is, yeah, pretty fuckin' definitive. We could go on forever, but we won't.
25th anniversary issue, featuring "the 100 moments that rocked our world", kinda cool actually, from "#18: Surfer Rosa invents the '90s sound" to "#54: Paw and the year Scrunge broke" to "#83: the White Stripe's sister act is exposed"... brings you back, doesn't it? And all along the top of each page, in tiny type, are catch-phrases and subgenres of music, like C86 and twee and black metal, with suggested listening... A nice crash course in alt.culture over the last quarter century (!), informative for the young 'uns and nostalgic memory-stirrers for the older folk...
Of all the amazing records we've reviewed on the Dielectric label, our favorite might just have to be the Karen Stackpole 12", an incredible collection of bowed gongs, huge billowing clouds of deep sonorous metallic shimmer, a specialty of this East Bay based percussionist. So we were super excited about this full length, nearly 45 minutes of the heaviest metal imaginable, as in hundreds and hundreds of pounds, a whole room full, all recorded and gently and subtly reworked by Die Elektrischen, aka Drew Webster, Dielectric Records mainman.
The core sounds here are incredible, the sound of a huge sheet of metal being struck or bowed, the unbelievable overtones, most drone obsessives could listen to struck gongs all day and night, and Webster seems to know this, doing the bare minimum to enhance and augment.
In most cases, it's hard to tell anything has been done to the original recordings at all, usually the additions are super subtle, layering two tracks on top of one another, changing the stereo panning, while in other instances, the sounds are most definitely altered, with reverb, or delay, distortion, but done deftly, a delicate balance for sure.
Bell like chimes drift into deep rumbling metallic drones, strange melodies surface within the overtones, crystalline shimmer laid over lush dense low end buzz, some of the tracks, the layered metal buzz gets so dense and intense it almost sounds like Troum or Nadja or something, the final track introduces a gorgeous minimal rhythm, very tabla like, accompanied by gongs and cymbals, a super intense abstract groove, but for the most part, the sounds on Machine Shop are dark and minimal, mysterious and haunting, tranquil and hypnotic, woven into softly undulating dronescapes, or just left to shimmer on their own.
Latest cloud of smoked out dub psych damage from this one man band, a massive sprawling double lp, every song bleeding into the next, one epic druggy abstract sonic trip. The Sun Araw sound keeps drifting further and further out, and in the process, approaching something that sounds a bit like reggae, but filtered through a cracked Not Not Fun filter, and a bank of busted amps and malfunctioning effects pedals. Oh and pot smoke. Lots and lots of pot smoke.
Woozy, warbly, prismatic, sun baked (and just plain baked), stripped down, dubbed out, inner space drift. Wah Wah guitars hover over skeletal rhythms, reverb and delay coats everything in earshot, disembodied chantlike vox are draped over SA's twisted mutant lo-fi dub. The record drifts into some warped murk, still peppered with plenty of upstroke reggae guitar jangle, but wrapped in wheezing keyboards and some super distorted fuzz bass.
The second record begins all ethereal and new age, some hushed glimmering ambient drift, near static, before launching into some dubby krautrock, muted and muddy and minimal, flurries of keyboard tangle spray notes at the relentless motorik pulse, still more abstract vox and lots of gorgeously spidery guitars, all tangled up into minor key melodies that seem to fade into the background, the whole record sort of hazy and ghostly, while somehow remaining krauty and dubby. The sidelong final side strips everything away, or piles it all on, blurring and smearing and winding everything into a dense layered drift, looped and hypnotic and psychedelic, that wouldn't sound out of place on a Monopoly Child Star Searchers record. Rad stuff. Thick vinyl, full color gatefold sleeve, and yeah, probably limited.
The Belgian duo Trancelike Void have somehow managed to slip through the cracks here, though at least two of us are big fans, but somehow, we've never listed on of their records until now. Which is a shame, especially considering the current obsession with post black metal shoegazers like Alcest, Les Discrets, Lifelover and the like. TV are definitely black metal, but their sound is warm and lush and blissed out, more Sigur Ros or Godspeed than Darkthrone or Immortal.
Which brings us to Where The Trees Can Make It Rain, the latest from TV, which only furthers that sort of non black metal vibe, in that it's wholly acoustic, just acoustic guitars and drums, two long tracks, each, doleful and meditative, dreamy and tranquil, softly reverbed notes ring out and hang in the air, the overtones spinning off into the ether, the drums, simple and spare and skeletal, darkly moody and melancholic, subtly dynamic, building to softy emotional crescendos, only to slip back into a somnambulant drift. Clouds of strummed steel strings hover and slowly dissipate, leaving, stray notes to flutter and fade out.
The two songs here are quite minimal, almost like shadowy sketches of songs that could have been, which is precisely what makes them so appealing, they're hushed and abstract and shadowy, they drift and shimmer, flicker and fade, the sound is lush and organic, but also fleeting, a soft sound, that manages to evoke all sorts of emotional responses, a fleeting glimpse of some otherworld, where these hushed sounds are the soundtrack.
Back in stock! Got a very limited number of these from the label, at a way cheaper price. Bunnybrains 88 are now called Ultrabunny, but the sound is still as Bunnybrained as ever. Read on...
You know how much we love the Bunnybrains around here. Their chaotic retarded garage rock chaos gets us everytime. We were blown away by the recent Box The Bunny release, that collected all their old recordings and included a dvd of insane and ridiculous footage. So you can imagine how psyched we were to learn that there was a brand new Bunnybrains record! So why the 88 you ask? Well, apparently there were two separate bands that joined forces in 1988 and became the Bunny brains we know and love. After 17 years or so, rock and roll took its toll and the Bunnybrains split back into two separate units. Both bands are 100% Bunnybrains (or at least 98%) and both bands kick ass! This new 10" from Bunnybrains 88, now ULTRABUNNY is ULTRA limited, to only 333 copies, the first 88 of which came in super fancy boxes and were $50 or more and are now out of print. But do not fear, the other 245 copies are nearly as cool, gorgeously packaged in custom letterpressed Bruce Licher sleeves, an elaborate cardstock interlocking foldover, with lovely maroon and white text and filigree. The vinyl is breathtaking as well, half clear, half opaque red, and the sleeve has a nifty sparkly pink stick affixed to the front. One track on one side, and two simultaneous tracks on the other! Includes a bunch of inserts including a sticker and FAQ that goes into greater depth about the whole multiple Bunnybrains thing. Each copy is also hand numbered! WOW!
It's been ages since we reviewed a record by Norwegian black metal horde Urgehal, but since we've been flipping out over Urgehal side project Angst Skvadron, we figured it was definitely time to check back in with the grim black mothership.
For those of you who missed out on our raving about Angst Skvadron, the twisted black industrial avant prog black metal side project of Urgehal member Trondr Nefas, take a second, read the review, check out the side project, probably buy one, then come back here, so we can rave about this record too.
Urgehal is not nearly as abstract or out there as Angst Skvadron, but someone capable of that sort of weirdness, well, you gotta think those twisted thoughts and messed up musical ideas must seep into their day job, and they do for sure, albeit subtly.
The sound is total third wave classic Norwegian black metal, epic, majestic, buzzing blasting, with hints of classic thrash, some old school eighties metal, but make no mistake, this is grim, frosty, kvlt shit. Opener "Stesolid Self-Destruction To Damnation" is everything we want in black metal, frantic insectoid rigging, blasting drums, convoluted and complex, but, the vocals are seriously twisted, not shrieked, more a sort of demonic croak, and there are wild guitar leads all over the place, adds a little weirdness, without detracting from the grim core. The second track is a woozy, almost waltzy blackened dirge, with more sick vox, and some killer riffing, not to mention all sorts of haunting ominous atmosphere, until the song explodes again into a monstrous burst of crushing blasting heaviness, with some throbbing rumbling bass, which is definitely a rarity in black metal.
And so it goes, a fucking beast of a black metal record, just twisted enough to make it special, but not overtly weird or fucked up.
The final track is the gem here, super melodic, with all sorts of lush layered guitars, arpeggiated melodies, a seasick tempo, and a cool final movement wherein buzzing soaring riffage is draped over haunting reverbed piano, super creepy, but really beautiful too, until the riffs drop out, leaving just the piano, to play the record out.
First off, anyone who bought the Minimal Wave Tapes compilation, another recent aQ Record Of The Week, is most definitely gonna want this too, another killer collection of, like the title says, Cold Waves and Minimal Electronics, a perfect part two, or companion, and fear not, the only overlap is one single band, who do appear on both comps, but with different tracks, so this is essentially an all new (old) collection of vintage coldwave dark synth sonics, which, if you're anything like us, and we're beginning to think you are, you can't get enough of.
It's pretty strange how cold / dark / new / synth wave have made such a huge comeback, bands like the Cure, Depeche Mode, Human League, Front 242, Soft Cell, are now cited as huge influences on a new breed of dark synth driven combos. Also funny considering something similar happened 8 or 9 years ago, when a rash of bands were exploring similar territory: Adult., The Faint, Fischerspooner, Erase Errata, etc. But music is definitely cyclical, and as a new generation discovers the treasures of the past, they start bands mining that past, and revist that past via reissues. The most recent issue of the San Francisco Bay Guardian offers a mini primer on the difference between the various waves: darkwave was early industrial and goth rock, cold wave the French version of darkwave (as we first discovered on the amazing So Young But So Cold comp), Synth wave was like cold wave but more sparse and moody, and new wave, well everyone should know what that is by now.
Lately, it seems most folks make little distinction between the various waves, instead lumping them all together as cold wave, or minimal wave or whatever, since regardless of the variations, they definitely all share a similar sound and vibe, and speaking for ourselves at least, it's a sound we dig big time. But then most of us never really stopped digging that stuff to begin with. Lots of former goths here for sure. And every time we discovered a band exploring the sounds we dug so much back in the day, we went way out of our way to gush about them big time, like one of our 2009 Records Of The Week, from Soror Dolorosa, a black metal side project that sounded like some lost Joy Division jam, or rare cold wave antiquity, and more recently records by groups like Blank Dogs, who may not have grown up listening to this music, but if they didn't then must have had a super hip older brother.
But as was demonstrated on the Minimal Wave collection, there were tons of bands outside of the obvious above mentioned references, who were just as cool, if not cooler, the underground of a scene that for a while was very mainstream, on the Minimal Waves comp, it was Crash Course In Science, Tara Cross, Das Kabinette, Ohama, Das Ding, Martin Dupont, Deux, Bene Gessert, Turquoise Days, and others, a few of the more wave-informed folks here knew many of those bands, but to the rest of us, it was a revelation. So much amazing music, so many new groups. On this Cold Waves collection, it's Absolute Body Control, Ruth, The Neon Judgement, Stereo, The Vyllies, Days Of Sorrow, Land Of Giants, End Of Data, Eleven Pond, Ausgang Verboten, Nine Circles and more more more. And like before, a few groups we're familiar with, but a whole bunch of mysterious new names, all of which contribute killer tracks, and most definitely have us hankering for more from all of them.
The obvious ones, Ruth of course, a long time aQ favorite, whose track here also appeared on the out of print So Young But So Cold, sort of Kraftwerk meets Gary Numan, Linear Movement, who also had a track on the Minimal Wave comp, whose track here is awesome, catchy and swirly, with super hypnotic synth melodies and awesome vocals, groovy bass and that clipped new wave drum machine rhythm, Absolute Body Control, who recently received the deluxe Vinyl On Demand boxset treatment, with some awesomely gothy gloom pop, in fact, this collection sounds WAY poppier than the Minimal Wave collection, so much so, that almost all of these bands sound like they should have been right up there with Depeche Mode and the Human League.
Needless to say, this is another fantastic comp, with some incredible songs, and already has us hankering for volume 2!
Nice thick gatefold sleeve, tons of liner notes, and pix, also comes with a download card. CD coming soon too... ----* ----* Highlights : ----*
Leave it to the fine folks at the Soul Jazz Label to bring us a stellar Krautrock compilation that is as heavy on obscurities as it is on classics. Don't let the fact that the Neu!, Faust and Amon Duul tracks will probably be familiar to the most casual krautrock listener, or that pretty much all the classic bands in the canon (save for Kraftwerk and Klaus Schulze) are represented, deter you from this well-researched and beautifully sequenced compilation. Why? Well, because this compilation does a great job of showcasing the many diverse facets of the music that defined krautrock: Kosmishe electronica, hippie commune folk, motorik rhythms, proggy jazz-funk and lysergic cinematographic soundscapes. There are plenty of rarities from bands we've barely heard of such as Between, E.M.A.K., Michael Bundt, and Ibliss, as well as bands and artists we love like Kollectiv (aka Kollektiv), Conrad Schnitzler, Deuter and Gila that perhaps casual fans may not know much about. Plus many of the more well known groups are represented by less well known tracks or later periods. The Can tracks, for example. "Aspectacle" and "I Want More" are from later records, while the great Tangerine Dream track "No Man's Land" is from an early eighties record, a less seminal period for most classic Krautrock, but one filled with plenty of amazing discoveries for those brave enough to wade through some crud. Thankfully Soul Jazz did that work for us! Here is the full listing of bands: Can (2 tracks), Between, Harmonia (2 tracks) Gila, Kollectiv, Michael Bundt, E.M.A.K., Popol Vuh (2 tracks), Conrad Schnitzler, La Dusseldorf, Faust, Neu!, Cluster, Ibliss, Moebius, Roedelius, Amon Duul II (2 tracks) Ash Ra Tempel, Tangerine Dream, and Deuter.
Comes with a full color booklet showcasing the history of the bands and music. Perfect for both newbies and longtime fans! Awesome!
Leave it to the fine folks at the Soul Jazz Label to bring us a stellar Krautrock compilation that is as heavy on obscurities as it is on classics. Don't let the fact that the Neu!, Faust and Amon Duul tracks will probably be familiar to the most casual krautrock listener, or that pretty much all the classic bands in the canon (save for Kraftwerk and Klaus Schulze) are represented, deter you from this well-researched and beautifully sequenced compilation. Why? Well, because this compilation does a great job of showcasing the many diverse facets of the music that defined krautrock: Kosmishe electronica, hippie commune folk, moterik rhythms, proggy jazz-funk and lysergic cinemagraphic soundscapes. There are plenty of rareties from bands we've barely heard of such as Between, E.M.A.K., Michael Bundt, and Ibliss, as well as bands and artists we love like Kollectiv (aka Kollektiv), Conrad Schnitzler, Deuter and Gila that perhaps casual fans may not know much about. Plus many of the more well known groups are represented by less well known tracks or later periods. The Can tracks, for example. "Aspectacle" and "I Want More" are from later records, while the great Tangerine Dream track "No Man's Land" is from an early eighties record, a less seminal period for most classic Krautrock, but one filled with plenty of amazing discoveries for those brave enough to wade through some crud. Thankfully SouL Jazz did that work for us! Here is the full listing of bands for this volume: Can, Between, Harmonia (2 tracks) Gila, Kollectiv, Michael Bundt, E.M.A.K., Popol Vuh, Conrad Schnitzler, La Dusseldorf, Faust, and Neu!.
Comes with a full color booklet showcasing the history of the bands and music. Perfect for both newbies and longtime fans! Awesome!
Leave it to the fine folks at the Soul Jazz Label to bring us a stellar Krautrock compilation that is as heavy on obscurities as it is on classics. Don't let the fact that the Neu!, Faust and Amon Duul tracks will probably be familiar to the most casual krautrock listener, or that pretty much all the classic bands in the canon (save for Kraftwerk and Klaus Schulze) are represented, deter you from this well-researched and beautifully sequenced compilation. Why? Well, because this compilation does a great job of showcasing the many diverse facets of the music that defined krautrock: Kosmishe electronica, hippie commune folk, moterik rhythms, proggy jazz-funk and lysergic cinemagraphic soundscapes. There are plenty of rareties from bands we've barely heard of such as Between, E.M.A.K., Michael Bundt, and Ibliss, as well as bands and artists we love like Kollectiv (aka Kollektiv), Conrad Schnitzler, Deuter and Gila that perhaps casual fans may not know much about. Plus many of the more well known groups are represented by less well known tracks or later periods. The Can tracks, for example. "Aspectacle" and "I Want More" are from later records, while the great Tangerine Dream track "No Man's Land" is from an early eighties record, a less seminal period for most classic Krautrock, but one filled with plenty of amazing discoveries for those brave enough to wade through some crud. Thankfully SouL Jazz did that work for us! Here is the full listing of bands for this volume: Can, Popol Vuh, Cluster, Ibliss, Moebius, Roedelius, Amon Duul II (2 tracks) Ash Ra Tempel, Tangerine Dream, and Deuter.
Comes with a full color booklet showcasing the history of the bands and music. Perfect for both newbies and longtime fans! Awesome!
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
A few months ago, there was a triple lp release, briefly available via Mississippi, called Fihavanana, it was so limited, pretty much nobody got any, but thankfully, the label decided to pick out a handful of tracks, and create this, Fanajana, a collection of recordings culled from those 3lps, chronicling in music and photography a trip to Madigasikara, undertaken by Canadian musician and ethnographer Charles Brooks. Recorded in the late nineties, Brooks returned and pressed up a couple hundred copies of the aforementioned 3lp set, storing them in his house for nearly a decade, before finally letting Mississippi have them, where they literally sold out in a matter of days.
So unless you're one of the lucky souls who snagged one of those triples, you're definitely gonna want to grab one of these, some of the most intense, incredible and uplifting sounds, lush and celebratory, the stringed instrument playing is intricate and complex, a mix of traditional and modern instruments, the vocals very reminiscent of African high life, the tracks quite varied, but all fantastic, a wild drum and flute freakout, an awesome accordion ballad, a song that's just voices and handclaps, some super emotional and intimate solo vocals, all recorded live, in people's homes, or yards, the sound of life infusing all of these track, children playing, people talking, chickens, birds in the trees, running water, footsteps, all just adding to the energy and emotion of this music.
The record comes with a large 8.5" x 11" booklet, packed with Brooks' liner notes, the history of the country, of the music, descriptions of the various instruments (along with drawings), small stories about all the musicians, including how Brooks met them and what precipitated these recordings, a little about payment, an often overlooked element in these sorts of reissues, a bit about Brooks himself, and plenty of notes on his approach, his techniques, and so much more, poems, lyrics, diagrams, and tons of photos. Super super recommended.
For all the stereotypes about how serious and rigid German culture is, we love how so many compilations in recent years have revealed just the opposite, revealing how damn fun and playful so much of the music bursting out of Germany during the '60s and '70s really was. We're talking full on go-go kaleidoscopic cocktail party galore! Much in the spirit of like minded compilations like The In-Kraut series and Disco Deutchland, Funky Frauleins puts its fun focus on the colorful groovy, funky, and disco sounds of the beat queens of Germany from 1968-1978. Just as fun, sassy and spirited as their French go-go counterparts but very much in the '70s with instrumentation that would sound right at home on a game show, in a porno, or even especially at a full on dance party. We only knew a few of these ladies: Su Kramer, Hildegard Knef and Caterina Valente, so we were introduced to a bunch of other super fun vixens. The booklet offers up great photos and bios of all the artists. This is one of those turn off your brain and step into a sweet and delicious cocktail haze kind of records. And we love it.
Similar in spirit to the AACM (the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians) collective out of Chicago, The Tribe was a collective of free-spirited musicians in Detroit, some of them former Motown session players, who produced and distributed independent recordings by local musicians to foster their own community and have their own creative control of marketing and artistic freedom. Founded by Phil Ranelin and Wendell Harrison, the collective also included Marcus Belgrave, Harold McKinney and Doug Hammond. Musically, The Tribe leaned more to the soul and funk side of jazz, often sounding similar in vibe to Roy Ayers and Donald Byrd rather than the freer sounds of the AACM which included the Art Ensemble of Chicago and Philip Cohran. The Tribe were similarly community minded, but displayed a more activist bent politically, trying to arouse a sense of communal pride and self-reliance in a city beseiged by economic woes, first in the relocation of Motown from Detroit to Los Angeles, and then in the long decline of the auto industry. They did this not only by making and releasing music, but also through the monthly publishing of the Tribe magazine, "Detroit's first black awareness magazine" which featured articles on history, politics, business and culture. While the collective only lasted five years, their output has continued to inspire. In fact, Carl Craig recently brought Tribe members back together to record for the first time in thirty years. Universal Sound has done an amazing job of anthologizing their collective output and this release features a 60 page booklet of history, photos and articles form the Tribe magazine, complete with vintage advertisements from local businesses. Fans of the Sounds of Liberation release or that Spiritual Jazz compilation on Now Again should definitely check this out. So freaking cool!
Those folks at Finders Keepers / B-Music never stop wowing us with the killer stuff they dig up. This list, we've made their reissue of the Aussie psychedelic biker flick soundtrack Stone one of our Records Of The Week, and we're constantly having to order more copies of recent discs like The BYG Deal (documenting rarities released by the radical French underground label BYG) and The Sound Of Wonder (an indeed wondrous collection of music from Pakistan's "Lollywood" cinema).
Now, here's Pomegranates, an amazing compilation of "Persian pop, funk, and psych of the 60s and 70s" compiled by a pair of Iranian-American music lovers delving into the pop culture past of their parents' generation, prior to the fall of the Shah, an era of rapid Westernization, economic stratification, and eventual sociopolitical upheaval. Looking back with bittersweet nostalgia, enthusiasm, and curiosity, they've put together a dazzling array of music that's usually quite groovy, also often melancholic, and sometimes subversive. Several tracks are considered classics, some are total obscurities (same to us!), all are irresistible. It's a colorful hybrid of East and West, of Persian musical traditions (already a melting pot of international influences) and electric youth energy. You'll hear strains of Western psych-pop, James Brown funk, Indian raga, Gypsy flamenco, Turkish folk, another other 'exotic' Middle Eastern motifs...
So many great tracks on here, the compilers almost making it impossible to select faves 'cause it's all so good, but if we had to pick just one highlight maybe it would be popular singer Googoosh's "Talagh", which sets her sweet voice soaring over one of the most insidiously slinky grooves EVER, pulsating with sinister fuzz-funk energy under flourishes of cinematic strings. She's got a couple more tracks on here, as befits her status as one of Iran's top pop stars of the day, a true sensation. If you like Turkey's Selda, you'll like what you'll hear here from Googoosh and this disc's other female vocalists. We also should note the zinging sitar funk of Abbass Mehrpouya's "Soul Raga", definitely another standout (it also appears on the full-length Mehrpouya reissue we raved about recently). But we haven't scratched the surface, the tracks by the other artists here, including Parva, Zia, Soli, Sima Bina, Ramesh, Noosh Afarin, Kourosh Yaghmaie, and others, are all awesome too, varying from groovy dancefloor workouts to aching love songs, sometimes both in one. Lots to enjoy, dive in!!
Oh, and of course like all Finders Keepers releases, this is nicely appointed, in a slipcover, with a thick, illustrated cd booklet featuring extensive, informative liner notes from co-compiler Mahssa Taghinia.
FYI we'll be getting a few copies of the import vinyl edition soon, they're not here yet though...
Yet another band in the ever expanding axis of aQ beloved weird and wonderful German metal groups, most of which share members. Avid aQ list readers no doubt remember math metal combo Woburn House, avant black metal horde Klabautamann, mathy folk metal outfit Island and black doom slowcore crawlers Gruenewald, well, you can now black prog doomlords Valborg to that list!
Do these guys ever sleep, rest, eat? Well we sure as shit hope not, not if it meant giving up any or all of the projects these guys work on instead, of well, anything else we presume.
Needless to say, if you dig any of those other bands, you're probably gonna dig these guys too, playing a sort of gnarled, off kilter, blackened death metal, which is not all that far removed from Woburn House or Klabautamann, or Island, especially Island considering it's the exact same lineup. But in Valborg, the trio unleash thick swaths of woozy downtuned chug, laced with all sorts of tripped out melodies, grunted hellish vox, plenty of clean guitar folkiness, but always a step away from exploding into a burst of blasting heaviness. But no matter what these guys do, whether black metal, death metal, prog metal, they can't seem to keep those various sounds separate, which is precisely why all these bands are so good.
From blast beat frenzies, to sea sick arpeggiated waltzes, to tangled Deathspell style blackness, to reverbed space prog, to super catchy almost groovy Khold style metal, often all of the above in a single song,these guys kick out some seriously sick, impossibly varied jams, and we're digging it big time. Guessing some weirdo metalheads out there might too...
(By the way, we like how their logo just goes ahead and uses the same triangular shape for the G at the end of their name as it does for the V at the beginning.)
Not sure how many folks remember Jud Jud, but we were obsessed, a parody straight edge band that was all a cappella, as in every guitar chug, every bit of wailing feedback, was sung, not played, in fact the band name comes from the sound of a chugging muffled power chord, JUD JUD, JUD JUD, JUD JUD. So genius, so when we first discovered this band, we couldn't help but be reminded of Jud Jud.
Van Canto are an all a cappella power metal band, and yeah, it's as ridiculous as it sounds, and awesome. Imagine a whole band, all vocalists, each one handling a different instrument, sort of. They do have a real drummer, which makes the sound more metal and less jokey, but only barely. A choir like arrangement of soaring epic power metal, with plenty of "dumm dum dum dumdumdum dum"s and "diddly diddly diddly thum thum"s, but masterfully arranged, with guitar solos handled by the female vocalist, who simply sings the melodies, and the lush acoustic passages arranged for quite impressive three and four part harmonies, and when the band are really 'rocking' the vocalists are growling their "dum dum dum"s and "diddly diddly"s.
If you ever wondered what Blind Guardian or Hammerfall would sound like arranged for a choral group, or if you ever dreamed of a barbershop quartet covering Iron Maiden or Lost Horizon, well then, these guys and gal will definitely hit the spot. The highlight here is probably their cover of Metallica's "Master Of Puppets", which as goofy as it is, does sound pretty amazing, the various melodies are arranged into lush harmonies, the slow solo sung operatically, the second fast solo sung through what sounds like a distorted kazoo, and even the heavy parts are arranged for really elaborate harmonies, and when it gets mean, the sung chugging is pretty impressive.
It didn't take long for us to become totally obsessed with Van Canto, we've been listening to it not stop, unsure whether we love it cuz it's so ridiculous, or cuz it's actually good, or a little of both, but if you've made it this far and are still reading, you might be destined for a similar path. "DUM DUM DUM DUUUUUUH, DIDDLY DIDDLY, DUM DUM DUM DUDUDUUUUUH...
This sounds like electronic music made by someone who spent way too much of their life working in a video rental shop. And in fact, that just might be the case. Released on the UK label Skam in one of those solid black jewel cases they like to use, this 19 minute disc is a fairly entertaining ADD episode of sample-based electronica, a collage of music and sounds apparently almost exclusively sourced from VHS tapes of cheesy '80s movies, we're guessing many of them the straight-to-video variety. It's a jagged, jaunty cavalcade of chopped-up sounds, chaotic and glitchy, funky too, almost like a more lo-fi Justice, VHS Head splicing together synth themes, electro-beats, and all too serious sounding voiceovers (the first words you hear are "Matthew Modine"). The five tracks here aren't exactly fully realized "songs" (this ain't DJ Shadow digging through the old tapes at your local video emporium), it's more kinetically random sounding than that, but definitely fun stuff, and even comes with a "video club" membership card. Remember, be kind, rewind.
It's been about three years since Rufus Wainwright released a proper album, but the wait seems to have been worth it, with possibly his most emotionally engaging and honest record yet.
Way stripped down, the entire album is just Rufus and piano. There is a stark and poetic nature to these songs that find him being a bit less snarky and clever than in the past instead opting for something more bare, mournful and sincere. We have always loved Wainwright's records, and are always in awe of his grandiose arrangements, but it's so cool how even with just his voice and piano he is still able to create such elaborate and interesting songs. We're also struck with what an amazing pianist he is, his playing both sparse and dizzying, lush and intricate, subtle and melodic. At times it's almost like this amazing version of piano virtuoso Lubomyr Melnyk joined by Scott Walker or Leonard Cohen. It's always a good sign when you can't think of many contemporary peers an artist has, showing how unique and singular their vision is. Besides maybe Antony & The Johnsons and Fiona Apple (by the way where are you Fiona, we miss you!!!) we can't think of many modern folks who have the same kind of talent and ability to create such dynamic and emotional songs.
And while on past efforts, there was usually always a song or two that try to get all rock and always seem a bit forced and out of place, on this album with only him and piano, there is no room for rock n' roll posturing, as he really zones in to what is at the core of his songwriting. Emotional, dramatic and richly crafted songs that have the power to leave you frozen in your tracks as you sit stunned and moved by these songs' bold and devastating honesty.
You may or may not have noticed that everytime we review anything by Peter Walker, it's always sort of in the tone of yeah, we like the new stuff, but come on, really, please reissue the old stuff!!! And while his two amazing records on Vanguard in the sixties remain bafflingly un-reissued, we can finally give you a taste of what we've been jonesing for. These recently unearthed recordings from 1970 were Walker's last recorded effort before facing "years of obscurity". Gathering a group of session players in Woodstock, NY at the home of Levon Helm (while Helm was away), Walker recorded these loose raga jams with tablas, flute, clarinet, bells, bass, and trap drums. These long-form meditative grooves are probably the best recorded insight into the sounds of Timothy Leary's Celebration gatherings at Harvard of which Walker was the musical director. Spiraling and trance-inducing, built on Eastern modal progressions, with flute and clarinet weaving throughout. Really beautiful! We're very thankful that the label head of Tompkins Square, Josh Rosenthal, managed to convince Walker to dig through his storage vaults and unearth this lost session. We want more!
The hazy and washed out cover art caught our eye but the sounds that came pouring out of the speakers is what won us over right away. Shoegaze blissed out electronics that seem to float in the clouds but also have a keen sense of melody. Walls definitely remind us a lot of that cool Morr music compilation of Slowdive covers that came out years ago, as it really does sound like our dreamy electronic based favorites tapping into the mesmerizing world of shoegaze greats like Slowdive, or the more celestial moments of Flying Saucer Attack's masterpiece Further.
Blissy blurry guitars and smeared murky vox buried in the mix on a few tracks, it all makes for such a perfect sun soaked sound. These songs swirl and flow with such ease yet it never turns into wallpaper as there is an understanding of creating actual songs and nice moments of subtle tension that give the record a rounded and utterly satisfying feel. Like an even more blissed out Infinite Body or our favorite outings by Ulrich Schnauss, or even what could happen if Panda Bear let go of his Beach Boys leanings and set his sights to a more soaring shimmery sound. This is turning into a major candidate for dreamiest record of the year!
Latest issue of this British modern music mag, chock full of goodies as always, on the cover, NY electronic weirdos Excepter, while inside: an Invisible Jukebox with Kid Creole aka August Darnell, John Weise writes about fellow noisemakers the Haters, Aaron Dilloway writes about Drunks With Guns, William S. Burroughs, Chicago house music duo Virgo, nu-glo-fi outfit Toro Y Moi, rapper Lil B, German label Jahtari, Global Ear on Vancouver, filmmaker Craig Baldwin, saxophonist Daniel Carter, experimental music in Seoul Korea, and pages and pages of reviews of records, cds, 7"s, lps, tapes, films, performances, concerts, installations and more more more. Finishing off with a final page Epiphany about robotic music and psychedelics...
Ah, Woods. It seems like maybe some of us here haven't given these guys as much attention as they deserve. Of course, some of that has to do with the difficulty in getting very many of their singles, and maybe we were just blasted with so many releases on the Woodsist label (which, you guessed it, Woods own and operate) that we overlooked them... not too sure, maybe we're just quibbling. But we will quibble no more, because At Echo Lake has our undivided attention.
This album exhibits an effortless but impeccable attention to songcraft, and even though it clocks in at under 30 minutes, its all encompassing greatness causes you to lose track of time and space, just like a good album should. While Woodsist has earned a reputation for blown out garage pop, Woods themselves are more on the folk side of the spectrum. Words like "lo-fi" will undoubtedly be thrown around, and not without good reason. This IS lo-fi, but instead of hiding behind tape hiss and distortion, the songs make perfect use of the recording quality for an album that is lush, dreamy, and above all, BEAUTIFUL. Singer Jeremy Earl's falsetto croon has earned many comparisons to Neil Young, but we're still trying to figure out who else he reminds us of. Some sort of Jad Fair/Elliott Smith hybrid on helium? Chris Gunst from Beachwood Sparks? Eh, why bother, because we imagine before long it will be Earl other people are being compared to when everyone is ripping his band off. This stuff is just so great that we can't imagine Woods NOT ascending to the next level in the indie world.
Lightly psychedelic opener "Blood Dries Darker" gives off a hazed summery feeling, its warm acoustic (we think) bass recalling the sounds of groups like Dead Milkmen or even Violent Femmes, but also sounding very appropriate for 2010. "Suffering Season" finds Earl and Woods' other half Jarvis Taveniere sounding a bit more like a ramshackle Beachwood Sparks with a ridiculously catchy chorus asking "Who knows what tomorrow might bring?"
The instrumentation on this one should appeal to anyone who dug other recent aQ favorites the Smith Westerns, as both bands seem to inhabit a world where the whole lo-fi thing is not just an excuse for not going to a real studio. Many numbers, like "Time Fading Lines" aren't necessarily "sad", but definitely a bit melancholy. A lot of these songs give off a sense of longing, not in a super defined way or anything... ultimately, though, the vibe here is pretty triumphant, some real feel good kind of stuff. Woods also know how to shake things up a bit, like on the instrumental "From The Horn", hands down the most rocking song here. Skittery guitars and some more aggressive than usual drumming have the band letting loose, and the addition of the cool backwards tape sounds actually reminded us a bit of Faust, as strange as that may sound.
Woods have created their own magical world, perfectly captured in Earl's awesome artwork, which adorns all Woodsist releases but not surprisingly make most sense on his own record sleeves. It's strange, but also very intriguing, a perfect visual accompaniment. The best thing about Woods is how they manage to be mysterious but inclusive, making tunes that will surely please all types of music lovers. It's always great when an album unexpectedly knocks you on your ass. At Echo Lake is one of those albums.
And fyi, for the next two weeks, we'll have the cd format of this on a special $2 off sale, so it's $11.98 instead of the regular $13.98, until 5/21/10!
Here's an album that we had heard about a while back, but had never been able to track down until now. Anna Zaradny is a Polish sound artist, specializing in harmonically challenging drones that slide out of electrical pulses and glass-shattering digital errata. She seems to have had something of a similar background as Gunter Muller or Jason Kahn (well, without Kahn's hardcore exploits in the US during the '80s), as she began her career in the realm of improv and has worked into a powerful and complex aesthetic for pierced minimalism, bristling with psychoacoustic intensity. Mauve Cycles features two lengthy pieces, the first being a zonked crucible of lazer-shot tones and frequencies which slowly melds into a mosaic of skittering rhythmic pulsations, pure tone dissonance, and seasickening sequences. We're not alone in finding parallels between this track and some of the more abstracted rhythmic constructs from Mika Vainio. As Zaradny smooths those rhythms into sustained vibration, this track begins to allude more to the classic electronic minimalists, with that strategy being furthered on the alluring second piece of pure dronescaping. Zaradny spatializes fizzes and crunched pixelations into complex constructions for oscillator tones slipping to toxic phase shifts from time to time. The overall feel of her work falls somewhere between recent John Duncan, feedback-era Eliane Radigue, the narcoleptic sounds of Mika Vainio, and a polite Florian Hecker. Intense!
