In the handful of exceptional records from concrete/drone composer Matt Shoemaker, the field recording has been central to his work. Take the aggregate tumblings of minerals from Groundless or the woozy humidity from Spots In The Sun, Shoemaker's use of the field recording in his pieces is miles apart from the pastoral use of bird songs or a gentle rainstorm to offer something 'natural' for an electronic ambient record. No, Shoemaker amplifies the more threatening aspects of nature with insects emitting nightmarish chorales, beetles aggressively scurrying towards hapless prey, and the air of a landscape so heavy and pungent with decay as to be impossible to breathe. For Shoemaker, the world may be nasty, brutish, and short; but he's discovering a weird beauty way out there amidst the grotesqueries of the world.
On the last two records from Shoemaker, a greater emphasis on synthesized psychedelia shot through his tense drone constructs; so with Tropical Amnesia One, Shoemaker has built an album that's just field recordings, without much of the atypical filtering, gizmos, and effects that turn Shoemaker's studio into a scientific laboratory. All of these recordings came from a two week residency Shoemaker spent deep in the Amazon forest, where silence was never afforded amidst the constant buzz of insects, torrential cloudbursts, and burbling streams all teaming with life. Watery sounds introduce the first 20 minutes to this album with all sorts of sodden creaks, slurping movements, and mud-sucking events amassed together. It's as if the vantage point to Shoemaker's sounds were just below the surface of a stagnant body of water next to a muddy embankment, crawling with leeches, skin-breaching worms, and any other parasitic creature that could come to mind. Shoemaker then shifts his attention for the remaining 44 minutes upward to the tops of the trees, where the insects have conspired to broadcast an ominous nocturnal hiss worthy of horror film sound design. A few insects and birds puncture the swarming noise, making the environment seem a lot less threatening that Shoemaker has contextualized it to be. A powerful, sublime recording, and what looks like to the be first in a series of recordings from the Amazon.
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.
What else do you need to know besides this: SUPER LIMITED SKULLFLOWER 7". Not much we'd imagine, but heck, just in case, it might be good to know that this chunk of Skullflower guitarnoise, veers dramatically away from the spate of recent releases, that focused on a more harsh, speaker shredding, ear wrecking intensity, and slips back to something a bit more warm and washed out, definite Sunroof! territory for sure, albeit less upper register skree and more wall of thrum low end crush. Blissed out and melodic, think Jesu, Nadja, SUNNO))), but totally and distinctly Skullflower, heavy, and harsh, dense and intense, but shot through with pretty melodies and constantly shifting layers and textures, a dizzying drift of soft focus muted Merzbowian buzz. So good. Had this been stretched out into a full length record we'd be talking serious Record Of The Week contender for sure.
The flipside comes from UK one man black metal horde White Medal, who counters with his own murky slab of downtuned distortion drenched doomic black buzz, a heaving sea of muddy low end and swirling muted chaos, the drums blasting away, but buried in the mix, the vocals a howling demonic inhuman wail, the sound so blurred and blackened, that it sounds almost static, even though beneath the surface, the drums are blasting, the riffs grinding, a glorious smear of woozy melancholic buzzing blackness, dense and ferocious, but washed out and weirdly melodic. Both sides rank up there with some of the best stuff we've heard from either outfit. But act fast, only 400 COPIES!
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.
The Strangulated Beatoffs are a weird weird band. But then what did you expect from a band called the Strangulated Beatoffs? Or from a band that features members of infamous noise punks Drunks With Guns?
This demented duo sometimes use samplers and loops to make fucked up hypnotic grooves and seriously demented electronic weirdness, but as is evidenced by Greatest Hits, they're also puerile purveyors of sick sludgey noise rock and filthy drunkrock dirges. Greatest Hits is mostly a collection of seven inches, the earliest recordings of the Beatoffs circa 1988-1992 or so and thus are maybe the closest sonically to the late great Drunks With Guns. Some tracks like "Porky The Pig And Bess" and "Heeby Jeeby/Practicing To Be A Doctor" are heavy dirgey space rock drug jams that sound like they could have been yanked from a Butthole Surfers set, while others, like "Lick My Butthole" musically sound like Dutch post metallers Gore, but with the addition of some goofy fucked up lyrics, and some damaged shards of buzz and crunch.
"It's A Vile, Vile, Vile, Vile World" is a super lengthy collage of looped eighties Carpenter-ish soundtracks, that sounds like it could be James Ferraro, but it's from at least a decade before Ferraro delved into lysergic pop music, so the Beatoffs are unsung musical pioneers! Fuck yeah! There's a Troggs cover too, but you'd never know it, a murky field recording that sounds like it was captured in the bar around the corner from the show, there's a dorky acoustic ditty, some strange carnivalesque child molesting weirdness, some Mentors like punk rock, but the finest moments are when the band do their best Butthole Surfers, crafting longform drone dirge drug rock, all swirling spacey effects, gnarled looped guitars, and mesmerizingly motorik beats...
If you're not sold by now, maybe this will sway you: Strangulated Beatoffs are one of Andee's all time favorite bands. EVER. So much so that he contacted them about reissuing all of their records, maybe even a box set, but all they wanted to release on tUMULt was their record of Genesis covers! (And then he never heard from them again.) How rad is that???
Been hearing lots about Portland's Stunned records, and we're happy to finally have one of their beautifully packaged tapes for your listening/viewing pleasure. This one comes from San Francisco's own sax and guitar duo Sudden Oak. Matt Erickson, who also rips it up solo under the name Radiant Husk, sends soaring sax tones up through the atmosphere while John Ward's guitar feedback freak-outs lay bubbling below. Together the duo travel through strange noise-jazz lands, up and over urban creep zones that move and flow into fluid rhythms and fucked up loops. Picture an old Pharaoh Sanders tape echoing through a blown out amp in a water tank, so weird and so rad. Limited to an edition of 111, each with pro-printed j-cards plus insert, these are already sold out at the source, so act fast if you want one of these beauties.
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.
First proper cd release from Students Of Decay cd-r label head honcho Alex Cobb's solo guitar project Taiga Remains. Collecting two tracks from a long out of print cd-r as well as including two brand new looooong tracks,�Crushed Radiant Deities is sort of the more active side of Taiga Remains' sound. On the Ribbons Of Dust series of 3" cd-r's Cobb wove spidery, smokey ambient shimmer from slowly unfurling guitars, creating a sound more like a whisper or a ghost, where as the last few releases have been more dense, more noisy, and more from the Birchville / Vibracathedral school of drawn out raga drones. The interesting thing is, Cobb's weapon of choice is an ACOUSTIC guitar! Hard to believe some of these sounds were coaxed from just an acoustic guitar, electronics and voice.�
The two new tracks are longform epics, slow shifting, layered and textural blurs of sound, gritty and fuzzy, layer upon layer, over the course of each track, building in intensity, becoming a near industrial blast of M83 fuzz and My Bloody Valentine swoon and Birchville skree all wound up into one thick pulsing shimmering wall of dense sound.�
The two older tracks aren't so sharp or shimmery, instead, they are a bit more lo-fi, one track is muddy and murky with mumbled melodies, all the hiss and skree, smoothed into warm warbly smears, very dreamy and underwater sounding, a static drift, the various layers of sound shifting almost imperceptibly, the other is thick and fierce, another static wash of buzzing and whirring, like a symphony of lawnmowers and weed wackers and air conditioners, subtle melodies and barely there shifts in tone and timbre buried within a serious squall of swarming insectoid buzz. Awesome stuff.�
Packaged in a super nice black white and red fold together cardstock sleeve, with a cool abstract splatter design on the outside, and liner notes and abstract little spirograph designs on the inside. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
Shhh. It's a very quiet recording for Darren Tate. The esoteric sounds of the former Andrew Chalk collaborator have calmed to a nocturnal hush on this, yet another micro-edition release. He's been partial to his analogue synth as of late, with a lot of sci-fi weirdness on display; but here, the sustained tones strike out on a rather lonely orbit, marching through the black of deep space guided by the sparest of oscillations. Tate collapses these tones into a hiss-filled passage of empty spaces, but with the window in that room opened to let in the sounds of soft English rain or maybe the distant hum of a freeway, he quietly situates a series of delicate synth plinks that seem to parallel a few of those reductive sketches Andrew Chalk produced on Ghost Of Nakhodka. Clanks and rattles from small metal objects nestle against sustained drones from Tate's synth only to dissolve into a series of skeletal plunks from his electric guitar echoing its notes in a rich delay pattern, sort of in the manner of the rainy-day psychedelia of Roy Montgomery, but with much more space between all of the notes. Limited to about 100 copies, and certainly not around for long.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
We only have about a dozen of these, a lucky warehouse find at one of our distributors, the awesome 1991 debut from Techno Animal, aka Kevin Martin (the Bug) and Justin Broadrick (Godflesh, Jesu, etc.), a grinding feral chunk of early industrial pound and crunch, all mixed up with long stretches of swirling dark dronemusic, tripped out dubbiness, haunting ethereal shimmer, Einsturzende Neubauten style junkyard clatter and clang and caustic sheets of Merzbowian hiss. Programmed beats, howled vox, churning low fidelity loops, buzzing blown out bass, buried samples...
The first half of the record is pretty much what you might expect from an early nineties Godflesh sideproject, the heft and heaviness of Swans, but wrapped around strange machinelike beats, murky washed out ambience, old school samples and loops, but then around track five, "The Dream Forger" the record shifts gears, a sprawling drift of fluttery flute, a sort of new age-y soundscape all reverbed and blurred into gorgeous hazy streaks, only to explode back into churning lumbering industrial metallic crunch in the next track, a super blown out Skinny Puppy meets Cop Shoot Cop / Swans hybrid dirge, laced with wild skronky sax, only to lead directly into the misleadingly titled "God Vs Flesh", a 23+ minute expanse of deep tones, slow motion piano, distant tinkling chimes, a harrowing Lustmordian dronescape, that grows gradually more abrasive, but never erupts, instead remaining dark and drifty and menacing, before the punishing final track, "Spineless" a cloud of processed vocals, drenched in effects, layered and dense and weirdly and impossibly hypnotic.
Definitely grab one of these while you can, one per customer obviously. Definitely for fans of Godflesh, the Bug, God, Ice, 16-17, Curse Of The Golden Vampire, and that whole nineties avant industrial / Pathological Records sound, and if you need even more incentive to get one of these before they're gone, good grief there's one of these cds selling on Amazon right now for $700!! Not sure it's worth that much, but it's most definitely a steal for eight bucks...
The return of Irish one man guitar dronedoomdirge noisemaker, Paul McAree aka To Blacken The Pages, with his first vinyl release, and to commemorate, McAree mixes it up a bit, offering up at least one side dramatically different from what we're used to hearing on TBTP records up until now.
Originally recorded for a sound exhibition in Dublin, "Crow's Nest" strips away most of the thick rumbling distorted guitars we might have been expecting, leaving a strange haunting bit of effects drenched shadowy sound in their place, the result though is quite pleasing, much more mysterious and otherworldly, lots of delay and reverb, bits of clang and crunch sent spinning into the ether, here and there long notes ring out, the overall sound is super spare and abstract, soft tangled melodies, the guitars smolder instead of roar, plenty of scrabble and scrape but smeared and blurred into solar flares of Sunroof!-ed sound, but unlike the raga-like ur-drone of Sunroof!, the sound and sounds here are way more spaced out, both figuratively AND literally. Warm washes of feedback bathe the whole track in a rich glow, and strange little flutters surface here and there, like some alien birdsong.
The track on the B-side is more similar to past TBTP outings, but McAree manages to meld the old sounds, with the new sounds found on the flip, the same strange assemblage of high end crunch and scrape and squiggle, but set in a landscape much more black and buzzy, thickly layered, undulating sea of sound, blown out an streaked with feedback, the weird effected shards of melody, drifting on that thick, rumbling undercurrent. Dense and drone-y looped and hypnotic sounding here and there, but for the most part a massive organic sprawl of minimal psychedelic guitar drone dreaminess.
Housed in a simple black 12" style sleeve with the middle holes cut out, a printed obi with all the artwork and liner notes, and comes with a black cd-r, packaged in its own sleeve with a proper insert, containing, both the tracks, but a WAY extended and remixed version of the B-side!
What were the guys in Pelican doing before they started crafting epic metallic post-rock soundscapes, touring with Opeth and posing topless in metal mags? Well most of them were kicking up a furious din in the awesomely named Tusk.
It's a bit strange to hear Pelican, with their brooding, dark post rock grooves, their droney and pummeling, arty and intellectual "smart man's metal", and then hear Tusk, the gnarled roots of Pelican's mighty metal oak (as Tusk was home to 3 future members of Pelican). Tusk is much more 'punk', a way more immediate metallic grind gut punch, like being pelted with burning hot shrapnel or being deafened by having hot wax and roofing nails stuffed into your ears. Sounds painful, but it's the good sort of painful. You can definitely hear glimmers of Pelican, but this is much more for the kids! A super explosive blast of metallic grindcore, a little chaotic, a lot grindy, dense and complex and fast and furious. The riffs might be metal, but they're sped up and splattered wildly while the vocalist howls and screeches over the musical melee. This reissue also includes a cd-rom portion watchable on your computer, featuring a whole live on the radio set, and an interview. The live set sounds awesome, but is filmed really strangely. Makes it almost surreal, with nothing but EXTREME closeups of the Tusk guys' faces, heads, eyes, sideburns, stubble, pores even, sort of NYPD Blue style, with a bit of blurriness and then a quick zoom and then a little wobble. Sort of suits the chaotic nature of the music. The star of the live set has to be the Quasi poster in the background, featuring Sam and Janet covered in sharpie corpsepaint, front and center in almost every shot! Then there's the interview portion, which starts off with a serious dose of full on male nudity, but quickly turns into a semi-serious discussion of metal and prog (these guys are experts), E.L.P, the godlike Carl Palmer (who Tusk claim was playing blast beats WAY back in the E.L.P. days), Atomic Rooster, and all sort of other cool, funny, esoteric stuff. Super fun and funny, loud and heavy, and awesomely spastic! And we're not just talking about the music!
Amazing design and illustration from Hydra Head mainman Aaron Turner, who also did the super cool cd-rom DVD-style menu.
Finally, the third volume in Ulaan Khol's epic free-psych-drone trilogy. For those who don't already know, Ulaan Khol is in fact Steven R. Smith, a beloved core member of the Jeweled Antler family, who has recorded on his own as Hala Strana, and with the first JA outfit Thuja, among many, many others. Much of Smith's music is hushed and darkly romantic, folky and introspective, he does know how to rock though, and Ulaan Khol is where he really lets loose. The first two installments in the series were both loud and heavy and psychedelic in their own ways, but number three definitely pushes the sound about as far as it can go. The opening track is a dense shapeless cloud of furious effulgent psychedelic guitar, warm and thick and gnarled and epic, the kind of guitarnoise that could fill up a whole record, but there's more to Ulaan Khol's third outing, as is evidenced by the second track, an incredible, super rocking, crazy catchy burst of blown out psychedelic stomp, the drums pounding, beneath a sea of swirling guitar buzz, while way over the top, Smith unfurls wild soaring leads, pealing feedback, dense tangles of notes, long drawn out wailing tones, it's like the perfect frenzied end to some classic space psych jam except it's the whole song.
But fear not, III is not all blown out psych rock for headz, some of the tracks are humid, smoldering raga like dronescapes, buzzing guitar swells, spidery melodies, delicate and crystalline, others take that same ambience and wrap it around urgently strummed acoustic guitars, creating a sort of dark psychfolk, but it's not too long before the record explodes into another incendiary blast of full on speaker shredding freakout.
The second half of the record is heavy on the dark blissy drift, the slow burning drifts, the blurred desert-y shimmer, all of which culminate in the super melodic 10+ minute closer, which sounds poised to explode, but instead channels that energy into something much more sublime, a long drawn out spacedrone/krautrock drift, the guitars thick and distorted, churning and roiling, but laced with gorgeous streaks of melody, dreamy, but still heavy, and pretty much the perfect way to close out Ulaan Khol's epic psychedelic songsuite. Even though this is the third in a trilogy, we're hoping S.R.S. will do an Ulaan Khol IV anyway, or maybe start making prequels, or something, 'cause we want more!
There's been a deluge of reissues and compilations of groovy '70s music from West Africa coming out lately, on this list in fact you'll also find Soundway's Nigeria Special Vol. 2 reviewed, with another one, their Nigeria Afrobeat Special comp, waiting in the wings. Well we just say, bring it on! If it's as good as THIS, we want to hear it!! Lagos Disco Inferno (the title says it all) is brought to us via the Academy label, who were responsible for that amazing Ofege reissue, among other great releases. Compiled by vintage vinyl fiend Frank Gossner (who does a blog called Voodoofunk), this is packed with a dozen tracks of burning, sweat-soaked funk/disco grooves, total dancefloor fuel, recordings circa 1976-'82 from Nigerian artists including Blo, Pogo Ltd., Doris Ebong, Grotto, Nana Love, Tirogo, MFB, Paradise Stars, Christy Essien, Geraldo Pino, Asiko Rock Group, and Emma Dorgu.
Track one, Doris Ebong's "Boogie Trip", with her persuasive vocals and some psychedelic electronic FX, is an insanely funky, and freaky, number that gets the party started right, in fact, it features the sounds of a wild dance party going on in the background (as there should be!). And track after track, the Lagos Disco Inferno party doesn't stop... right though to Nana Love's almost 15 minute tour-de-force "Hang On", which ends the album leaving you wanting more, more, more. Damn.
This is simply amazing from start to finish, a f*cking awesome comp, if you don't dig it then we doubt you've even got a funky bone in your body. The acts here could certainly compete with American contemporaries like the JB's, Kool & The Gang, and the BT Express, these exuberant tracks bursting with chicken scratch guitar, fat bass, ecstatic vocal squeals, and tight horn sections being put through their paces (ferinstance, on the aforementioned "Hang On"). James Brown is clearly a big influence, and Christy Essien on "Take Life Easy" sounds like she could have been one of his funky divas. To mention a few others, though we can't begin to pick favorites, we like how Geraldo Pino's "African Hustle" mixes in "Blow Your Head" style JB synth wiggle and vocal exclamations worthy of Jimmy Castor. "Everybody Get Down" by Asiko Rock Group is over 8 minutes of sheer get down grunt indeed. Pogo Ltd.'s insistent "Don't Put Me Down" also delivers the JB's vibe we enjoy (sounding a bit Ethiopiques too), while MFB's "Boredom Pain" has got more of a laidback groove, with soulful vocals and an eruption of fuzzed out acid rock guitar soloing that kicks in part way through - this could easily be something from those recently reviewed records by Amanaz or Witch from down in Zambia... Hey, but rather than talk about all twelve tracks, let's just say two words: get this! And again, two more: get down!!
Includes knowledgeable liner notes, the cd in a digipack, the vinyl in a nice gatefold sleeve.
We'd been hearing about this lp for a while, a very unlikely gathering of four black metal or tangentially black metal outfits, including two of our favorites, alchemical post rockers Aluk Todolo, and spaced out psychedelic black metal outronauts Nightbringer, along with Nihil Nocturne and Saturnalia Temple. And while all four bands explore dramatically different sonic territories, the disparate sounds and philosophies seem to merge into one mysterious and abstract whole.
Saturnalia Temple start things off in a decidedly UN black metal fashion, thick lugubrious riffs, spacey and druggy and woozy and sprawling, laced with soft psychedelic leads, Very early Earth sounding, until the riffs begin to gather momentum and take shape, and then suddenly it sounds like Kyuss at 16 rpm, some sort of sun baked desert rock, slooowed waaaaaay doooooown, lysergic and hazy, a sort of blackened and metalized slow blues, that just crawls and creeps until the drums finally kick in, and then it's some stoner doom, but with the groove dialed way down, a trancelike churn, peppered with bits of minor key melody and deep chanted monklike vocals.
Nightbringer step up, and explode in frenzy of whirling spaced out blackness, soaring frantic riffs, blasting black beats, the sound more astral and celestial than grim and frosty, the track constantly shifting, from lightning speed blast to warped midtempo moodiness, wild leads tangled up everywhere, haunting chanted vox, totally majestic and epic, even at its doomiest, the sound transcends, the guitars stratospheric, the arrangements lush and sprawling, a total heart of the black sun blast of galactic black bliss.
Nihil Nocturne offer up yet another black facet, theirs a midtempo blackness, digey and Burzumy, with just a little groove, giving their track a very Khold like vibe, a sort of modern Moonfog band feel, but with a surprising twist, the track shifting abruptly, into something much more abstract and un-metal, with glimmering clean guitars, electronic rhythms, the stereo super panned, the sounds swooping from ear to ear, speaker to speaker, major key melodies, until a super creepy processed voice begins to intone ominously, and the track begins again, a black metal Godspeed slow build epic, finally finishing off with a frenzied chaotic climax.
And finally the mighty Aluk Todolo, who do their own thing, and manage to evoke as much mood and mystery as any of the other bands, even working with a WAY more stripped down and minimal sound, that sort of post noise dark rock kraut drone they seem to have conjured in some strange ritual, and the sounds is indeed ritualistic, but also utterly hypnotic, and mesmerizing, all motorik rhythms, simple serpentine basslines, clouds of keening feedback, and abstract guitar crunch, swirls of effects, drifting fragmented melodies, but the drums driving everything, holding it all together, loose and tight at the same time, locked in, but drifting occasionally. Can, Faust, This Heat, German Oak, not black metal, not even remotely, maybe it's the vibe, or the mood, or the band pedigree, but it hardly matters, this is blackened and heavy totally enthralling dark and mysterious minimal hypno rock and it RULES.
Gorgeous packaging, super striking artwork and a massive 12 page 12" x 12" booklet, and yeah, SUPER LIMITED.
Latest from this singer / songwriter psych folk troubadour, a seven song ep, originally released as a free download, now available as a super limited 12", and perfectly showcases Vile's sonic breadth, beginning with some stripped down folkiness, rife with Beach Boys melodies, but delivered in a lazy drawl, the whole thing underpinned by some muted synth squiggles and electronic drones. Super catchy, but also raw and rough and intimate. Which sort of describes Vile no matter what sound he's conjuring up. And on it goes from there.
Like on past records, Square Shells blends subtle psychedelia with bedroom folk and jangly indie pop, adding some druggy ambience, swirling spaced out effects, simple minimal drum machines, the result is a little shoegazey, a little twangy, with plenty of buzz and shimmer, and long stretches of instrumental ambient dronescapery, songs like "Losing Momentum (For Jim Jarmusch)" unfurl gorgeous swells of blissed out slowcore, reminding us of Roy Montgomery, or an even more minimal Spacemen 3, or maybe a soporific non propulsive Wooden Shjips, the sounds blurred and smeared into gauzy dreamscapes, all beneath a glimmering crystalline latticework of spidery guitar. "The Finder" is similarly spaced out and prismatic, a muted buzzscape, darkly psychedelic, and sweetly contemplative, hypnotic and mesmerizing, steel string buzz nestled amidst warm organ wheeze. While in between these chunks of gorgeous abstract minimalism Vile offers up some more traditional songcraft, mostly just acoustic guitar and voice, sometimes crooning over reverb drenched Appalachia, other times delivering almost traditional folk songs, finishing off with "Hey, Now I'm Movin", a Dylan-y jam, with stream of consciousness lyrics, simple strumming, even harmonica, and lots of 'yeah yeah yeah's, but Vile sends that 'classic' folk drifting through a hazy cloud of soft focus ambience, giving the whole track a druggy otherworldly feel, the perfect finish to this intimate, dreamlike ep...
We were initially intrigued by this Canadian black metal horde after discovering that they recorded their first few records in Bangladesh, of all places, before band leader Vetis Monarch returned to Canada, and the band went on to create this blackened monster, Drakonian Paradigm, which is interesting for several reasons. Besides the strange Bangladeshi angle, the fact that this was released on Ajna might have you imagining something much more buzzing and black, and while some buzz and black is definitely present, Weapon's sound is way more classic metal, a little thrash, a little death, a little NWOBHM, killer riffs, loads of melody, harmonized leads, the vocals are guttural and growly, and the band do offer up brief bursts of blast beats here and there, but just as often, the band will lock into some super melodic, but still super heavy chug fest, the drums locked in with the guitars, while over the top, leads soar and squeal, in fact guitar solos are everywhere, and they're awesome, adding all sorts of wild frenetic melody to the proceedings, and the vocals are just not grunts, there are weird chanted bits, strange almost falsetto parts, the vocals are often stereo panned super hard too, so they seem to swoop from speaker to speaker.
But when the band do decide to get all black metal, they offer up some seriously intense blasting and buzzing, the riffs gnarled and frenzied, the drums chaotic and on the verge of collapse, which only adds to the classic metal feel, no triggers or sampled drum bullshit, these guys sound like a rock band rocking out, and rocking out hard, and even at its fiercest, the band will infuse some particularly grim segment with some serious minor key melody, or they'll slow things down and get all woozy and psychedelic, adding synths, underpinning the slow building crunch, sometimes they even ditch the metal all together and weave together some almost noise rock sounding heaviness, again held together by awesomely melodic guitar leads, and some unlikely harmonies, or they might slip into some fluttery, folky psychedelia, all dreamy and acoustic, but before too long, the sound transforms into something mower power metal or Iron Maiden than Darkthrone or Beherit. At first we were a bit thrown off by Drakonian Paradigms, maybe we were expecting something more Nightbringer-y, something more overtly black, perhaps based on the Ajna connection, but after a couple listens, we forgot all about that, and just dug this more and more, for what it is, not black, not thrash, not death, just METAL, and this is in fact, fast becoming one of our new favorite metal records.
This sprawling double lp of blissed out space rock psychedelia is being touted as the first 'official' teaming up of these two outfits, but it's definitely at least the second, maybe the now out of print Aquarian Downer cd-r is not being counted as properly official, but having freaked out over that a while back, we already knew these two were a good match. And on this latest collaboration, the two mesh seamlessly, White Hills seeming to let Gnod dial down the intensity and all out rocking, and crank up the shimmery washed out dreaminess, we mentioned Tangerine Dream in our review of the cd-r, and that sound is all over here, but so is Neu!, Wooden Shjips, all sorts of things, but WH and Gnod are clearly space rock masters, and these 4 sidelong tracks only further cement their placement in our personal space rock kraut drone pantheon (what, you don't have one?)!
So for this record, White Hills are a four piece, again featuring Oneida's Kid Millions on drums, and Gnod are a SEVEN piece, so you would think 11 rockers jamming out would be a crazy mess, but nope, these guys are so obviously sonic soulmates, from the first side, a slab of slow groovy krautrock, motorik (multiple drummer-ed?) drumming, smoldering minimal riffage, mantra like vocals, the Neu! / Stereolab vibe here is huge, woozy synths, tangled psychedelic leads, all glistening and sunshiney, never exploding into full bore heaviness, instead, just unwinding lazily and dreamily.
The second side starts off similarly, a super spare spaced out drift, before launching into a muscular Hawkwind sounding jam, all downtuned crunch, caveman pound, swirly psychedelic effects, churning and chugging relentlessly, the rhythm and groove LOCKED in, while the guitars and synths and effects swirl and whirl all around, finally unwinding with a cool muted bit of cinematic drift, haunting ghostlike melodies that almost sound like strings, all in a softly fuzzy dreamlike haze.
Lp 2 begins all rhythmic and almost new agey, cool repetitive melodies, simple and stripped down drumming, all laid over a deep rumbling synth drone, everything washed out and otherworldly. Eventually that gives way to a throbbing fuzzy bassline, matched up with a rock solid rhythm, more effects are applied, as are some wild fragmented super distorted leads, some warped Manzarek style organ, that main groove never faltering, total low slung incendiary psychedelia.
And so like us, you were probably expecting the final side to be the full on blow out we had all been waiting for, a free for all freak out of epic proportions, but instead, the band dial it WAY down, and offer up some super sprawling, ethereal atmospheric space folk driftscape bliss out, all spidery crystalline guitars, barely there hand drums, thick languid basslines, gauzy restrained effects, soft focus finger picked neo-Appalachia, totally dreamlike and mesmerizing, it almost sounds like the Alps covering Hawkwind, converting heart of the sun heaviness into something hushed and pastoral, subtly lysergic and utterly divine. So good.
Incredible packaging too, beautiful and intricate black and white psychedelic artwork, with a whole 'nother layer of tripped out swirls and shapes printed over the other black and white art in clear reflective ink. And VERY VERY LIMITED. We got a bunch, but odds are when these sell out, we won't be able to get more...
We had never heard of this NY band before but HOLY SHIT. A serious new contender for sure in the ever expanding world of crushing slow motion ultra doom-dirge-dronemusick. Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, SUNNO))), Skullflower, Khanate, Wolf Eyes, Bunkur, etc. Any of those names get your blood boiling, then WKW just might be your favorite new band.
This WKW's self titled debut, and is in some ways even heavier and more blown out than Flydust (reviewed elsewhere on this list). The root sound is similar, a heaving morass of crumbling superdistorted guitars, but where as Flydust is murky and muddy and washed out, the sound here is prickly and cacophonous, abrasive and sort of sharp. The sound is also more propulsive, more distinct riffs, dripping with in-the-red distortion and twisted FX. The opening track is one single ascending riff, looped over and over and over and over, pounding its way through a dense cloud of impossibly thick buzz, the drums a buried plod, the vocals, barely audible through the churning mass of unfurling riffs and a constantly expanding wall of sound. The strange thing is, there is a definite groove lurking underneath, loping and lurching, but groovy nonetheless. Think Godflesh or Pitchshifter mixed with Ramleh and Wolf Eyes, but super charged and revved up, and dipped in a psychedelic concoction of tripped out prismatic psychrock filigree and blown out amp destroying drone drenched doom.
But the second track is a whole different beast altogether, a stretched out slowed down distorted riff, unfurled in slow motion, very reminiscent of Earth 2, but peppered with simple spare drumming, only barely, until about halfway through when the sound is swallowed up but a wall of distorted sound much more like the opening track, and suddenly the sound is transformed into a blown out acid-doused blast of crumbling blacknoise.
The last two tracks offer up more of the same, varying degrees of forward momentum, of spaced out ur-drone, of in-the-red effects, pounding abstract percussion, all draped over near static whitenoise buzz, weird krauty grooves, woozy metallic crawls, pulsing metallic ambience, and heavy heavy hypnotic dirgedoomdronemusick.
The lp is limited to 490 copies, pressed on purple vinyl, the cd is limited to 1000 copies.
Few bands around these parts are received with such a fanatical devotion as local heroes Wooden Shjips. Everything they touch turns to gold, and when the band puts out a single, you'd better hop on that shit PRONTO, or else you miss out... until the band graciously collects everything in one essential package. Vol. 2 puts together their most recent, already out of print singles, and like everything on Vol. 1, these songs are just as good, sometimes even BETTER than what you get on their proper full lengths. More than likely most of you probably haven't been able to obtain these songs, so what you get here is as follows: the Sub Pop 7", side 1 of the "Vampire Blues" European tour 7", a live track from yet another Euro tour 7" with the Heads, the Contact 12" on Mexican Summer, and a live track from a Yeti magazine sampler. Everyone of these songs is absolutely amazing and will no doubt bring on tears of joy.
The Sub Pop 7" kicks off with the awesome "Loose Lips", a song that would shoot off way beyond the clouds if the rhythm section didn't keep things perfectly grounded like it does. The song swirls about in classic Shjips fashion with a nice melodic organ lead driving things forward and awesome submerged vocals. Next up is "Start To Dreaming", proving once again that a Wooden Shjips B-side is nothing to be taken lightly. It's by far one of the band's most beautiful songs, starting life with a slow but steady bassline and a mournful guitar lead before the pace picks up and pretty much knocks you out with its unbelievable beauty. Goddamn.
The band's cover of Neil Young's "Vampire Blues" is next, an upbeat rocker reconfigured perfectly for the Shjips' psychedelic approach. "Death's Not Your Friend" is from the split 7" with the Heads, and the band proves they can deliver in a live setting. The song is super rhythmic and dense as hell, a total joy to listen to for both long car rides through god knows where OR solitary walks in the woods, take your pick.
"Contact" is a Shjips' styled cover of a Serge Gainsbourg song, and it moves along at a steady midtempo groove. The song is anchored by a hypnotic bassline, allowing the submerged wah guitar and French sung vocals to do their thing. Side 2 features "I Hear The Vibrations" in its superior form, the "E-Z Version". The song first appeared in a truncated version on the Vampire Blues single, which was wisely left off in favor of this take. Maybe you recall that we put it all out on the table in our original review and pretty much declared this to be the band's best song to date, a claim we still stand by. It's the kind of song that would go on forever if we had our way.
The album closes with another live tune, "Outta My Head", from the Yeti sampler. The burly bass/guitar attack is impossible to ignore while the simple drumming incorporates a jangly tambourine into its nonstop pound. The organ spits out awesome hazy melodies as the guitar blissfully distorts all over the place, and it's a great way to end the album, making you want to see these guys level some small club.
So yeah, this is not at all a hard sell, we probably didn't even have to bother with a review, but we love this band so much that we just felt like throwing in our two cents. For everyone who missed out the first time along, this is a no brainer. And if you've been living under a rock, Vol. 2 also serves as a highly worthy introduction to one of our fine city's flagshjip bands.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
WAREHOUSE FIND! Just discovered a little stash of these, 6 or 7, not sure how they slipped through the cracks, but this came out a few years back, is as far as we can tell now out of print, but this way at least a handful of folks out there can nab one of these, an incredible double disc of dark shimmery dronemusic and mysterious processed field recordings. We've raved on and on about New Zealand soundscaper Wright on past lists, so long time aQ folks are probably already quite familiar, but for those who aren't, this is a great introduction. Two whole discs, lengthy sprawling minimal epics, warm washed out whirs drifting into clouds of bird song, seagulls float above burnished streaks of coppery sun dappled blurs, delicate bell like tones are smeared into gauzy impressionistic soundscapes of muted melody and hushed slow motion hum, heaving crumbling distorted crunch blown out into blistering shards of ur-drone, traffic noise fades into hazy fields of delicately reverbed guitar, which fades into the sounds of a forest stream, dreamy druggy shoegazey guitardrones rumble and build before dissipating into clouds of indistinct otherworldly barely there grey gauzey ambience. So so so good. Last copies ever, essential listening for drone obsessives, and anyone into Jasper TX, Machinefabriek, Svarte Greiner, Aidan Baker, the Fun Years, Xela, and other crafters of dark dronelike mystery...
