Brand new record from these blackened Belgian weirdoes, whose sound has changed dramatically from our first exposure to these guys, the grim noisy Luizig cassette, releases on Silvester Anfang's Funeral Folk label, which seemed apt at the time, a raw grim lo-fi sort of abstract black metal, along the lines of the blown out primitive fury of groups like Bone Awl and Akitsa, everything in-the-red, blown out and utterly chaotic and noise drenched. Not sure if you can just chalk it up to the natural progress of a band, but the now out of print 3" cd-r on Universal Tongue found the band shifting their sound considerably, tighter, not so distorted or damaged, yet they managed to make this shift and remain as head cavingly baffling as ever. Which thankfully remains the case here, three new loooong tracks of stripped down trancelike minimal black metal, that sounds almost more like some sort of noiserock or noisy krautrock. The band lock in a riff, and a blasting beat, and just pound away on it, over and over and over, the sound gloriously murky and muddy and blown out, the only things that really change are the vocals, which howl and mewl and shriek, occasionally becoming engulfed in reverb or delay (dub style) and spinning into a swirling cloud or processed voices, and the drums which shift from minimal pound, to super sizzly cymbal driven cacophony, the opening track finds the band spending most of their time pounding away relentlessly, only to shift gears about halfway through, get a little doomy, and then shift gears again and get all abstract and spaced out, sounding more like some weird sort of underground post punk band that any sort of black metal band. They do of course return to the murky muddy pound that started things off, only to stumble and collapse into heap of feedback and black buzz.
The second track is a super stripped down, minimal chunk of slowcore, abstract, doomy, but not heavy, just simple drumming, and skeletal guitars, it does eventually lurch into something more heavy, filthy and crusty, with sick vomited vokills and super distorted downtuned crunch, but it quickly slips right back into that doomy dirge complete with Sabbath style basslines, eventually exploding into a weirdly proggy almost Voivod sounding black metal workout, with long stretches of woozy bass driven doomy drift, and some super dense blowouts of churning riffage that is more dronelike than metal-like.
The final track is a 29 minute juggernaut, which begins with a cloud of grinding low end blackness, the drums eventually coming in, creating some sort of motorik hypnorock blackmetal dronedirge, which splinters into something way more frenzied and chaotic, and from there, the track is constantly shifting, long stretches of cinematic strings and mysterious samples, Khanate like ultradoom, more meandering downtuned metallic post rock, super spaced out minimal sludge, laced with ethereal vocals, and weirdly melancholy melodies, bursts of bass heavy prog, some Burzumic black metal, and finally a blast of frantic almost D-beat sounding blackened fury that finishes things off.
Another fantastic and fucked up batch of damaged doom and abstract avant black metal weirdness, needless to say this is the kind of shit that we live for. WAY recommended.
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What a long strange trip it's been for Ariel Pink. Going from total outsider weirdo pop secret to the man pretty much single handedly responsible for inspiring a legion of like minded left-field pop peddlers like Kurt Vile, John Maus, Gary War, Blank Dogs, Wavves, Ducktails, Brian Glaze, Night Control, Neon Indian, and on and on.
Now finally, after all these years, AP's finally enjoying the respect and attention he deserves, and he's been rewarded with his first big time and widely distributed release, on 4AD, of all labels!! Anyone who has seen him and The Haunted Graffiti play lately know that while there is still a total weird and warbly vibe to their sound, they are a much more song based outfit, and way more straightforward than their way more fractured and fucked up earlier sound. Not to fear though, Before Today is not some glossy makeover of the Ariel Pink we all know and love, but it is for sure the most coherent, produced and focused album he's created. From glam-like '70s rockers, to yacht rock on acid, to super colorful fuzzy pop bliss, this is a record that explores so many different sonic territories.
It's also, by far, the 'breeziest' record he's made, the sounds often has us feeling like we're swirling in pink tinged clouds while a '70s soft-rock radio soundtrack bleeds into something a bit more subversive, and all the while, candy coated cereal comes raining down from the skies. AP's been at it for about a decade now, way beyond the lifespan of most 'bands', carving out his completely singular idiosyncratic voice, and it really makes sense, that more and more people are embracing his twisted sound, and showering him with the love and praise he's been getting from folks like us for years...
(By the way, there is vinyl of this too, we ran out and when we tried to restock, the label was temporarily out... might have something to do with the fact that one of the lps we did get, turned out to have a Christina Aguilera record inside it, not the AP one! Almost seems like something AP would do on purpose... we'll keep you posted.)
The first we heard from French black metal crew Aurvandil was on a recent split with the Weakling worshipping Dead As Dreams, we described them as sounding very Norwegian, very Burzumic, drum machined buzzy midtempo blackness, and we were definitely primed to hear more, which brings us to this, the latest from Aurvandil, released on the same label as the Murmuure raved about elsewhere on this list, Aurvandil is not nearly as twisted or bizarre, but still totally slays. After a lengthy folky almost Viking sounding intro, all lilting acoustic guitar and programmed drum machine, the band burst into a buzzing electrified version of the same song, an odd way to kick off your record, especially considering that the next track EXPLODES in a frenzy of impossibly blasting frantic blackness, the programmed drums so fast they almost become a drone, the guitars frenetically riffing along, totally trancelike, a series of swells, beyond the furious buzz and black blast, it's mesmerizing and hypnotic and relentless, even when the track shifts gears, it's to another strangely frenzied blast, but it's not that simple, the guitars are still buzzing madly, but beneath the guitar a melancholic synth drifts and shimmers, and then the drums and vokills come back in, and it's a weird, hard to describe black metal that is impossibly intense, but also washed out and dreamy, a totally strange combo, that could not work, but instead, transforms this into some sort of ambient blackness, that still buzzes and blasts, but without shattering the strange spellbinding energy the songs invoke. There are strings, and cellos, and mysterious voices, the arrangements seem simple, but they are definitely simple in unexpected ways. The record finishes off with another weirdly folky chunk of blasting blackness, but the three songs in between those folky bookends, nearly 30 minutes, are an incredible suite of psychedelic avant trancelike black metal dronemusic, that would probably be ranking first in our new black metal obsessions, if it weren't for that Murmuure, but hell, it's a seriously close second!
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES, these are the last of these we'll ever see...
Originally released (albeit only digitally) in 2005, Songs Of Flowers & Skin reveals a side of Aidan Baker we love, but only rarely get to see, and it's his slowcore side, channeling the spirit of groups like Codeine and Bedhead and Seam, creating dark, drifting slow motion pop songs, that creep and crawl and unfurl gorgeously and gradually. Like we said, those moments do surface in his discography, especially solo, where he seems more inclined to introspection and less to doomgaze, but this record offers up a whole disc of proper songs, slow, languorous, dark, haunting, melancholy songs, with singing and lyrics and proper rock band instrumentation, augmented by trumpet and violin, it's really quite lovely.
The record opens with "Skin Like Sand", a serpentine guitar figure wraps around simple minimal skeletal drumming, vocals are crooned softly, actually sung, but this IS Aidan Baker, so it's not nearly that simple, the track is laced with bits of glitch, streaks of crackle, and the vocals are strangely processed, so in the background, little vocal snippets echo the main voice, making it sound ghostly and dreamlike. The next few tracks get almost jazzy sounding, upping the tempo a bit, but keeping the mood dour and depressive, "Dance Dance Dance" is a smoky trumpet flecked ballad, all reverbed guitar and sizzling cymbals, "Second Selves" sounds almost Spanish, a little bit of a Morricone vibe, a regal almost march, the horns and strings, sweeping and dramatic, very cinematic, "Take Me Out Of My" is another skittery slow groove, that sounds almost like it could be American Music Club, if it weren't for the strange static and whirling organ drones.
Almost the entire second half of the disc is taken up by the nearly half hour long "Flowerskin" (although some of that is silence hiding a secret track, more on that in a second), begins as a slowly building driftscape of long tones, mysterious electronic glitches and truncated rhythms, before the song proper kicks in, another brooding meander, the glitch and crackle and hiss even more pronounced here, sometimes almost blotting out the song completely, there is an almost Nadja worthy climax, but it's more soft focus and subdued, a swirling cloud of warm washed out drones and tangled streaks of buzz, before sputtering out and leaving nothing but silence. Which is eventually supplanted by a gorgeously dark and melancholy dirge folk ballad, just acoustic guitar and vocals, hushed and haunting and quite beautiful.
Maybe not for the Nadja doombliss dronemetal obsessives, but fans of past AB solo outings, as well as anyone into dark, intimate, minimal slowcore and dark brooding doom pop, will definitely want to check this out.
We love Matthew Melton, we love his Band Snake Flower 2, and we love these guys, Bare Wires. Melton is a master of pop songs, no matter how they're presented, whether as the druggy heavy Hawkwind / Monster Magnet space rock of Snake Flower 2, or the classic sixties garage jangle of Bare Wires, every song is perfectly crafted, melodic, catchy as fuck, super rocking. Even totally stripped down the songs get lodged in your head like crazy.
So here's the latest from Bare Wires, and Melton and Co.'s influences are even more obviously on display this time around, the Kinks, the Who, the Flamin' Groovies, classic seventies power pop, the Shoes, the Nerves, the Diodes, all bands we've referenced before with Melton, but considering how many modern retro garage rock outfits there are, it's a little fascinating that so many rely more on sound and production and attitude and vibe, than on songcraft, so when someone is approaching garage rock with impeccable songcraft, well, it doesn't take much to leave the rest of those bands in the dust, which these guys most certainly do.
On Seeking love, not only are the songs great, but the sound and the production seem totally vintage, if you played this for some garage rock collector and told them this was some lost 7" from some unknown group in the seventies, they would absolutely buy it. And the thing is, the sound suits the song. Sure, someone could have recorded these songs on a boombox, and run the whole thing through a million distortion boxes, and buried the vocals in reverb, and mastered it so all the levels were WAY in the red, and the legions of modern warped garage pop obsessive would be flipping their lids, but at the risk of sounding like your mother, why go to such lengths to disguise a fantastic song, and fuck all that noise, any on can spit out some generic by the numbers rock and roll, and fuck it up enough that it sounds twisted and far out and innovative, and probably people won't notice the lack of songs, but with a batch of songs this catchy, and groovy and jangly and goddamn great, well nothing to do but strap on the headphones and rock the fuck out!
Just dug up a small handful of these, the only release from this killer California black metal horde who weirdly enough craft a very wintery and frosty sort of ambient technical black metal, very reminiscent of the Norwegian elite, Emperor, Immortal, Satyricon, but stripped way down, like a more raw and primitive take on that sound, trancelike and hypnotic, the tracks super repetitive and hypnotic, pounding relentless drumming, soaring epic riffage, howled hellish vokills, blurred bursts of furious buzz and blast. The sound is awesomely murky and muddy, all the various instruments smeared together into heaving black swells, the band do get super moody and depressive, and those stretches are especially compelling, dark and intense, the minor key guitars creeping through clouds of swirling black ambience, the vocals growing more and more tortured, sorrowful and miserable, the perfect downer balance to the rest of the record's frantic sonic frenzy.
If you asked us at the beginning of the year what records we were anticipating the most, we wouldn't have mentioned anything from Finnish black metal pioneers Beherit, simply because their rebirth was really the last thing we expected. Following the band's super blasphemous and chaotic odes to Satan in the early '90s, leader Nuclear Holocausto took over the reigns to become Beherit's sole member, steering the project into dark ambient waters with nary a trace of metal remaining, eventually pulling the plug altogether in 1995. But here we are with Engram in 2009, and the big question is, duh, what does it sound like? After a brief glitchy noise, you are confronted by an accented voice that proclaims, "Because. I just fucking hate this world," and then we're off into the hate filled world of Beherit that we know and love best. These guys could certainly show the younger generations a thing or two, as it becomes immediately clear that Beherit has returned as a furious and totally unrelenting black metal force that retains plenty of what made the original band so great, but with enough surprises to show that there is plenty left to say.
Joined by his longtime partner in crime Sodomatic Slaughter on the skins, as well as two new members, Nuclear Holocausto has created an album that serves Beherit's legacy quite well indeed. In terms of the actual fidelity, it would appear that Beherit has embraced modern recording technology, as they sound significantly beefier than on their earlier efforts, which essential as they are, generally sound a few steps below "piss poor". This album sounds burly as hell, with thick, super heavy riffs and classic black metal blasts, all topped off with Holocausto's croaking vocals and plenty of atmospheric synths adding an exciting and unexpected element to the songs. Like the classic Drawing Down The Moon album, Engram is full of weird, spaced out keyboards that, even today, put Beherit in a realm of their own. The way the keyboards go against the main riffs really bring things into psychedelic territories, and while there are plenty of super fast numbers here, some of our favorite moments are when the band take things down a notch, like on the monolithic 15 minute closer "Demon Advance", a doomy two chord juggernaut with strange oscillating noises and some of the most vile vocals we've heard in a while.
Engram seems to have metalheads across the globe divided, but Beherit were never really an easy band to pin down. Of course, the use of synthesizers will always be an area of controversy when it comes to metal, but Beherit have always taken a unique approach with their electronics, venturing into spacey realms that most black metal bands don't even know exist. If you're willing to spit in the face of orthodoxy, and if you like hellish riffs, awesome puking vocals, and powerful drumming, Engram should be an obvious choice. It's good to have them back.
Another new release from Mexican Summer, this one from The Bitters, which just so happens to feature one of the dudes from post hardcore punk rockers Fucked Up, but don't be expecting Fucked Up style pummel here, although it is a lot noisier and more rocking than lots of Mexican Summer stuff, but more on that in a second.
First thing eagle eyed aQ customers might notice is the cover art, the same cover as the debut full length from Norwegian black metal horde Orcustus, that strange medical drawing of a woman's pelvis, legs and torso removed, and gestating baby inside, with the front of the pelvis removed so the baby as well as all the various muscles and organs are visible. Seemed a little more suited for a grim black metal group, which is probably why the garish cover is now hidden by a giant sticker featuring what we can only assume are the two band members looking shocked and horrified by what lies underneath. But enough about the cover, the music is not nearly so intense or gory or shocking, the template is definitely similar to what is essentially THE NOW SOUND, fuzzy, garage rock, with female vocals, lots of reverb, a sort of Phil Spector via In The Red, definitely a sound we dig, but it's kinda crazy how many bands are doing it now. But give the Bitters some credit, that may be the root of their sound, but they infuse their jangly reverby garage pop with a Way more jagged ramshackle post punk vibe, evoking the aesthetic of groups like the Swell Maps, and the vocals are super distinctive, a yowlly yelpy new wave caterwaul, that perfectly suits the bands surprisingly heavy sound (heavy at least for this kind of thing). If we had to pick a 'hit', it would most likely be "Travelin' Girl", super frenetic and propulsive, with a killer hook, some dueling boy/girl vocals, crunchy and fuzzy, with some twisty dizzying p[arts slipped in between the more poppy moments, and then there's the sort of psychedelic middle portion, not to mention the heavy shoegazey blow out at the end.
But the rest of the record is no slouch either, from dirgey in-the-red garage jangle, sounding like a slowed down, female fronted Oh Sees, too fuzzy and wild seat-of-the-pants angular post punk, to fuzzy sunshiney Best Coast-y garage jangle. And all these elements are made all the more interesting because of the production, super hot and live and distorted, so everything sounds really loud and crunchy and fuzzy, and gives even the lightest moments some serious oomph.
Needless to say, by now you know if this sort of thing is your bag, maybe you have enough, maybe you can never get enough, but The Bitters definitely have their own thing going, so even if you think you've heard all of THE NOW SOUND you'll ever need to, these two might just change your mind.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES, each one hand numbered, comes with a download card as well.
Hailing from right here in the Bay Area, this mysterious black metal horde recorded this, their debut, way back in 2007, and, except maybe for a few demo cassettes back then, it's only finally seeing the light of day now, which is a shame, cuz this utterly rules, some of the weirdest, coolest, most idiosyncratic black metal ever, a killer mix of Slint like post rock, grim true blackness, and blown out shoegazey drift, it's hard to imagine that most aQ metalheads wouldn't totally lose their shit over these guys, we sure did. And we know nothing about this band, who they are, where they're from exactly, why this record took 3+ years to come out, and how the fuck a band this cool and weird could remain so far and so long under the radar. Well, we're just glad this record is finally getting the attention it deserves. And that we an finally gush about this incredible, fucked up and far out slab of outsider blackness.
The record begins with the very Slintish "Marie", Spiderland guitars, simple spare drumming, lots of space, the only hint of blackness is the tortured vocals, draped over the song's skeletal framework, loping, hypnotic, mysterious, haunting, it's not until 2 minutes in that the blackness drops, frantic double kick, frenzied riffage, and the vocals, seriously tortured and anguished, but even then the minor key post rock vibe manages to still run through the rest of the track, and hell, the rest of the record. The track finishes off with a cool stretch of processed feedback, before launching into the second part of the 'Marie' suite, "Marie Pissed Upon The Count", a seriously frenzied black metal blowout, the vocals just incredible, emotional, not shrieked, more a guttural howl, the whole song manages to be almost a single extended blast, except for a brief respite part way through, where the band slips back into that Slinty lope, but just for a moment. And then there's the untitled third track, that is ridiculously melodic, hazy and shoegazey and washed out, still buzzy, but the melody is so weirdly sunshiney, and the song does eventually transform into something way more fierce and black, but that dreamy vibe infuses the whole track, a weird grim / glowing hybrid. And so it goes, the whole record is a constant sonic exploration, draping those sinister demonic vokills over pretty spidery guitar jangle, sending insectoid riffing into soaring swells of surprisingly major key melodies, injecting weird mathy almost progginess into long stretches of contemplative drift, while much of this sounds like classic Norwegian style blackness, lots of it sounds like some nineties math rock band, imagine a Don Cab / Darkthrone hybrid, or A Minor Forest crossed with Mutiilation, or some sort of Slint / Alcest / Burzum blend, the record lurches and swings from harsh heaviness to melodic lope and back again, finishing off with a long stretch of looped guitar and minimal drumming, that manages to be way more powerful and intense than a blown out black blast closer, which is precisely why this record is so special, and so fucking incredible. And even though technically this is from 2007, there's no way this isn't another black metal of the year contender...
Enjoying this so much right now, it's hard to actually write about it, I just want to sit and listen... but here's what I've managed to come up with so far:
Oh yeah! We've been looking forward to this second album from Sweden's Burning Saviours for months, it was supposed to come out earlier this year but got delayed until now. Basically, we can make this simple if a) you've heard the first Burning Saviours and liked it and/or b) you're a fan of that -other- Swedish band that channels Pentagram, Black Sabbath and all that good obscure early '70s proto-metal heavy prog psych stuff, namely Witchcraft. If those conditions apply, then get Hundus, 'cause this new Burning Saviours disc is just as good as their amazing debut, sounding (due to shared influences, and perhaps something in the water over there in Sweden) EXACTLY like Witchcraft's equally fine retro-proto-metal. But again, we don't see them as being blatantly unoriginal vis-a-vis Witchcraft or anything, it's just that both bands are so good at capturing the authentic vibe of their heroes, making music well worthy of the upper echelon of Vertigo swirl label heavies.
Those not already tuned in and turned on to Witchcraft / Burning Saviours / the current retro-heavy-psych scene, well, you're gonna think this sounds like Black Sabbath. And maybe a bit Led Zep too, especially some of the vocal phrasing on the epic "Lilly Marion". And some of the riffing and soloing reminds us of very early Judas Priest, in their pre-leather, psychedelic Rocka Rolla phase. So, obviously, lots of appeal here to classic rock lovers! One thing that really makes Burning Saviours sound so great is the "openness" of their sound, spacious and clean, every part hitting our ears just right... the more quiet n' pretty moments making us think of -another- current band of retro-obsessed Swedes who are favorites 'round here, Elope. Even the heavier riffing is still sorta laid back, loping.
Witchcraft definitely already have a cult following (and are gonna be touring the States soon, hitting SF in October with Danava, yeah!), and these guys deserve the same... but their name just isn't as good as "Witchcraft" is it? Burning Saviours are named after a Pentagram song, but maybe we'd have chosen a different one... coulda been called, uh, The 20 Buck Spins? No, that's no good either. Well anyway, another essential hippy-doom album that really seems like it must have been recorded in 1971 and recently unearthed!
With this 1998 album, Cavity's Sabbath-fried sludge from the swamps of Florida really earned them their rightful place in the pantheon of heaviosity peopled by the likes of the Melvins, Eyehategod, Boris, and Electric Wizard. We liked 'em already, but this record stood above and beyond. Sheer HEAVY pummel, riff repetition chug fulla feedback and nasty vocals. There's quiet respites now and then, making the monster riffage even more monstrous. Definitely the kind of thing that just takes you over, relentless, submersive, and hypnotic. So, we can't believe we never listed this before! It was a HUGE fave among a bunch of us here when it came out on Man's Ruin a few years ago. It's been sadly out of print ever since that label folded, but now Hydrahead has stepped up and reissued a remixed version, complete with new artwork/design and what appear to be 2 new tracks (but, one's missing -- what happened to "Almost Blue"?). So apparently even if you have the Man's Ruin version, you've gotta buy Supercollider again. But this is one of those records you *would* buy again, it's that good! And if you don't have this already, and you like heaviness, GET IT. Cavity's best album (though their last one, On The Lam, was pretty great too). Thanks Hydra Head for giving us the chance to recommend this, again.
This mysterious gem was sent to us in the mail, and all it took was a quick listen to be totally smitten, and to know that probably lots of aQ folks would dig this as much as we did. So we got as many as we could, which was the last dozen or so copies of the super limited pressing of 150 copies, and here it is, the first we've heard from Coldstream, aka Daniel Mumford, four extended tracks of thick layered drone music, hazy shimmery drift, and mysterious minimal krautdrone ambience. The opening track is an almost static stretch of thick gnarled buzz, blurred into a slowly shifting expanse of dense drones, deep and mesmerizing, the sort of sound that we could listen to forever. The second track is much more melodic, spacious and abstract, with a cool skittery rhythm that surfaces about halfway through, epic and cinematic, super dramatic and ethereal, laced with muted buzz and soft sonic swells. The next track is also quite cinematic, like the soundtrack to some British nature documentary, hushed and dreamlike, fluttery flute like tones draped over undulating low end pulses, you can almost imagine time lapse images of clouds flitting across the sky, or plants blossoming and the closing up again, a musical dusk, all warm and wispy and dreamlike. Finally, the closing track smolders darkly, laced with minor key piano melodies, a brooding minimal drone ballad, again, haunting, and mysterious, and very very lovely.
LIMITED TO 150 COPIES, these are the LAST ones, housed in a cool origami like cardstock sleeve, with a full color insert, each one hand numbered.
To commemorate the recent 25th anniversary Current 93 performances in London, a super limited number of these commemorative 7"s were pressed up (only 300 copies!), featuring exclusive tracks from three of the bands that performed with C93, psych drone combo Rameses III, psychedelic folk legend Simon Finn, and most excitingly, legendary seventies acid folk outfit, the mighty Comus!!
The Comus track might be what gets folks most excited, and rightfully so, a recording of the group performing "Diana" on the Melloboat, in Sweden, in 2008, their first show together after nearly 40 years!!! We tried to watch clips on YouTube, but the crowd was so amped, and howling and clapping and singing along, you could barely hear the band. Thankfully this recording is pristine, and the band sound incredible, even more woozy and carnivalesque and maniacal than they did back in the day, the player practically perfect, the vocals incredible for the many decades that have passed, definitely makes us wish we had flown over.
Rameses III contributes a gorgeous thick swath of densely layered dronemusic, very minimal, softly pulsing, rife with swirling overtones, hypnotic and raga like, really super nice.
And finally, Simon Finn unfurls some dark brooding psychedelic folk, lovely and haunting male / female vocal harmonies, over warm soft melodic swells, the sound stripped down, the arrangement minimal, the structure skeletal, but the overall feel still darkly lush and lovely.
A pretty fantastic 3 way split, we can only imagine how great the shows must have been. A gorgeous sonic artifact too, sturdy full color cover, pressed on thick colored vinyl, and again limited to only 300 copies!
Reissued courtesy of the Dug Out label run by Mark Ernestus of Basic Channel and Mark Ainsley of Honest Jon's comes this beautiful 1974 work of reggae roots spiritual music unlike any we've ever heard. Deep and heady, slowly unfolding over four long tracks (most of them exceeding the 10 minute mark, and all melding into one another), it carries an earthy psychedelic vibe that unfurls like incense smoke over an expansive desert. With rolling bass, nyabinghi (ceremonial hand percussion), piano and spaced out guitar washes that weave around the central rhythm and vocalist Ras Michaels spiritual incantation like singing. We can see folks who are into bands like Om, Bright Black Morning Light, Sun Araw, or the hippie head trips of early Dr. John or Bruce Palmer getting way into this. Probably one of the most mystically stoned Jamaican head burners we've heard in a long time. Amazing!
We can probably count the major female figures of Krautrock on one hand. Most of them like Rosi Mueller of Ash Ra Tempel, Renate Knaup from Amon Duul II, Djong Yun from Popol Vuh, or Sabine Merbach from Gila were either singers or muses for their male-led bands. And don't even mention Clara Mondshine, which was a pseudonym for Walter Bachauer, a very real actual man. But even among those women, you don't find too many female krautrock composers. Actually, we really couldn't think of any, offhand. Can you? If so, please enlighten!
Thankfully, the brand new reissue label, Medical Records, who has bolted out the gate running with not only one but two amazing (and amazingly limited!) vinyl-only reissues, sets the record straight! The other reissue, Alexander Robotnick, reviewed elsewhere on this list, is a weirdo Italo-disco / French electro classic we've known about for awhile and we're super psyched to see finally reissued. But this one, Deutsche Wertarbeit , the solo project of Dorothea Raukes, is altogether completely new to us and what a fantastic discovery it is!
Released on Sky Records in 1981, Deutsche Wertarbeit was Raukes' first solo effort after years of being the singer for a German Progressive band we're not familiar with called Streetmark, who started in 1968, and released 4 lps between 1976 and 1981. Two of those were also released on Sky Records and one of them was even recorded in collaboration with Wolfgang Riechmann, the same year he was murdered. What? Really? Why didn't we know of this already? Just goes to show, there are still many treasures to be unearthed.
And if you dug Wolfgang Riechmann's Wunderbar reissue, that we raved about awhile back, or Klaus Schultze, Tangerine Dream, Cluster, Peter Baumann, or even some of the later Manuel Gottsching recordings such as New Age of Earth, then add Deutsche Wertarbeit to the essential kosmiche synthscape canon. But while she definitely fits in with those artists, she carves out her own defining sound of warm minimal hypnotic rhythms and vocoder voicings that display a joyous exhuberance you don't see as much in artists like Schultze or Baumann. In fact this would fit in well with the stuff on that Dirty Space Disco comp, as it sounds like a mystical combination of Vangelis and Popol Vuh, expansive and cosmic, upliftingly propulsive while keeping it all beautifully reigned in.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES, each 180 gram colored vinyl and hand-numbered. We're not sure how long we'll have these, so don't wait too long. Highest Recommendation!!!!!!
We were never able to get enough of these to list, the 2005 full length from French avant industrial black metal weirdoes Diapsiquir, which is a bummer, cuz this is some of the most twisted, fucked up heaviness you'll ever hear. We did go on at great length about the Hospital double disc comp, which collected the band's first few demos, but this, holy shit, a head spinning, gut wrenching, skull cracking chunk of whacked and wrecked whatthefuck black metal damage. Be warned, we only have 3 or 4 of these, and we're not sure we can get more, but this way, at least a few loyal aQ-ers, who dig this sort of sonic sickness, can get their grubby mitts on one of these.
After a brief intro, of almost cheesy synth and skittery drum machine, which gradually grows more and more manic and frantic, the band explode into lurching, blasting, gnarled almost circusy blackness, the sound constantly changing direction, female vocals howling, pounding beats and frenzied dizzying riffage, with what sounds like kazoo solos, or someone singing through a kazoo, some seriously doomic chug, howled tortured vox, loads of effects, the song swinging wildly from sound to sound, mood to mood, a wickedly schizophrenic grinding black freakout. And that's just the first song. The record continues to get weirder and weirder, introducing bits of opera, wheezing organs, RAPPING(?), found sounds and sound effects, folk music, and whatever other weirdness these guys can think up, tangling all that stuff into their already WAY fucked up alien nightmare sound. A drug addled soundtrack for the listener as he gradually descends into madness.
WAY recommended. Had we been able to get more, we'd probably have highlighted this, or heck, some of us might have even pushed for Record Of The Week status, but as it is, weirdo music freaks have 3 or 4 chances to nab one of these, be quick, or be listening to something WAY less bizarre...
For some strange reason, this has been sitting on the shelf, generally unacknowledged, for ages. Which makes no sense at all, the Dicks from Austin, TX are one of the most legendary and outrageous American punk bands from the early '80s. Their songs have been covered by the likes of Mudhoney and fellow Texas nutjobs Scratch Acid. Crossdressing lead singer Gary Floyd, along with Randy "Biscuit" Turner of the Big Boys and Dave Dictor of MDC, represented one of the most unusual and politically radical punk scenes in the country - hell, WORLD. All three singers were hulking madmen, all completely gay and proud, and completely capable of beating the living shit out of anyone who might cross their paths.
Hungry Butt contains two Dicks shows, one from 2005 and the main attraction, a show from 1980. The reunited Dicks, however, still sound unbelievable and as good as they did in their initial run. In both settings the energy level is beyond comprehension as Floyd spits out hateful but hilarious musings in front of the enamored audience. The band appears to be straddling that fine line between keeping it together and plunging into pure chaos, and GODDAMN does it sound good, not to mention surprisingly musical. The album also contains two outtakes from the band's mythical Hate The Police single, "Pigs Run Wild" and "Hate The Police" (one of the best songs EVER). You don't even need to know anything about the Dicks to appreciate the timeless punk rock on display here, and considering the difficulty in finding any of their stuff, we can't recommend this highly enough. We don't have too many copies and are kinda unsure whether we can get more (this was released five years ago...) but we figured it would be criminal not to let people in on this opportunity.
Another Captured Tracks band, whose recent 7" had us all in a tizzy, with its reverby jangle and slouchy sad boy indie rock shuffle. We compared that Dignan Porch release to Sebadoh and Guided By Voices, which totally hit the spot.
The full length offers up more of the same, but with some subtle changes, a swirling folky, jangly swirl of weirdo distorted vocals, heavily effected guitars, short short songs, most hovering around the two minute mark, the vibe melancholy and minor key, the sound raw and rough and lo-fi, the hooks subtle, but definitely there, the indie jangle of the 7" infused with more of a dour doom folk vibe here too, with lots of acoustic guitar, hazy reverb, washed out ambience, the songs lilting and darkly personal, with vocals that shift from cockney croon, to distorted howl, to high keening falsetto, the tracks laced with buzz, a patina of grit, layered and murky and mysterious, and definitely poppy, but almost as if the poppiness was an accident, a byproduct of this soul baring, home brewed folk pop, a darkly dreamlike, bedroom-recorded, old crummy cassette, late night, druggy, summery mixtape, of strummy, starry mystery. Whew!
This came out a while ago, and for some reason we never reviewed it, but we were listening to it recently, and realized how fucking kick ass these guys were, and figured there were probably some other folks out there who would dig this as well.
SF heavies kicking out some serious skull crushing jams, falling somewhere between the punkish metal bombast of Northwestern groups like Karp and the Melvins, godheadSilo, and any of the heavier hitters from the classic Amphetamine Reptile stable, so you know what that means, relentlessly rocking churning chugging noise rock / punk metal blowouts, huge downtuned riffage, bad ass drumming, howled vox, the band locking into full on burly grooves, about as fierce and furious as it gets, not sure why these guys didn't blow up, never saw them live, but it sounds like they must have slayed, this stuff is dense and dark, loud and intense, frenzied but also right as fuck, with plenty of melodies, and lots of hooks hidden amidst the pound and pummel, fans of any of the above mentioned bands should grab these while they last, got a handful left, and as the band is dead and gone, we might not be able to get more.
Another batch of new releases from perpetually hyped vinyl label Mexican Summer, this one, the debut (?) from a band called Dunes, definitely travels a sonic path similar to many of their labelmates, but they do manage to twist the sound up into something a bit more their own. That said, if you dug all or most of the Mexican Summer releases so far: Kurt Vile, Pearl Harbor, Valet, Campfires, Woodsman, Washed Out, Weekend, Wooden Shjips, then this will most definitely be right up your alley.
It only takes a few seconds before your swept away by Dunes' murky retro pop, the first track super lo-fi, washed out and hazy, gloomy and haunting, liquid guitars shimmering in blacks and greys, heavily reverbed and distorted vocals, even at 45, this still sounds almost like it's at the wrong speed, ghostly and warped and warbly. The rest of the record though is not so dark and mysterious, in fact much of it sounds a bit like a more post punk Cocteau Twins, simple drumming, Joy Division-y basslines, guitars wreathed in effects, the vibe ethereal and atmospheric, the vocals slipping from abstract croon, to yelped and distorted. There's definitely a heavy sixties girl group feel, as is all the rave these days, but Dunes makes it more skeletal and spectral, occasionally transforming into something more dense and noisy and ramshackle, although it always seems to slip back into the glorious gloom.
The vocals are also quite reminiscent of Siouxsie, which then makes the Dunes sounds bit like a more jangly lo-fi garage rock post punk Zola Jesus, which is not a bad thing at all. The record finishes off much how it started, with another sprawl of muddy, blurred, ghostly low fidelity drift, a soft sonic crawl laced with scraped guitars and abstract percussion, distant barely there vocals, clouds of crystalline shimmer, and a gorgeous slow motion drone out ending.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Each one hand numbered. Comes with a download card too...
There are those certain records for all of us that just change things when they enter your world. For a few of us here, this 1981 album by Durutti Column is one of those records. An album that showed that music could be sparse and majestic at the same time. D.I.Y., yet and grandiose in how it evokes emotion, memory, longing and desire. The work of Vini Reilly, Durutti Column emerged out of Factory Records yet their sound was something completely of its own world. Merging impeccable guitar playing with subtle drum machines, soft vocals and a golden warmth that makes this one of those albums that makes you melt everytime you put it on.
Pastoral and blissful, LC is filled with both perfect restraint and full on flowing beauty. You can hear how traces of the more blissed out side of Krautrock influenced him, merging that with the stripped down emotional quality of British folk and placing it into a very modern moment. While not an obscure band by any measure, we are still blown away though by how many people who would love Durutti Column have never heard them. And with the reissue of their first two lp's we hope that so many of those folks finally do. We could go on and on listing folks whose music we love and who have undoubtedly been influenced by Durutti Column, and this record in particular: Felt, Fuqugi, Danny Paul Grody, Colleen, James Blackshaw, Ducktails, Fennesz, Manuel, A.R. Kane, My Bloody Valentine, and on and on. One of our favorite records of all time, so if you didn't have this before, now's the time!
We've got two great vinyl reissues of the first two lps from Manchester's Durutti Column this week. Despite the title, The Return of The Durutti Column was their debut release from 1980, originally on Factory Records. While the title is tongue in cheek (as was the original album cover, covered in sandpaper so that it would scrape and scuff any record filed next to it), it was truly a return, as by the time they were set to record, the original five piece group enlisted by Factory label boss Tony Wilson had dissolved into sole member, guitarist Vini Reilly. In less capable hands, this might of been devastating, but Vini Reilly, a true alchemist of the electric guitar, could more than hold his own. Working with Martin Hannet, who provided the atmospheric production and synth washes, and a couple of session players, The Return of... is a tour-de-force of warm pastoral instrumentals, soft textures and intricate jazz-like compositional dynamics.
Durutti Column didn't have the typical Factory Records sound associated with bands like A Certain Ratio or Joy Division. In fact, Reilly's interweaving filigree guitar lines and bright chiming tones sounded more like a group that would be on Crepuscule or even 4AD. "Sketch for Summer" is one of the most beautiful openers ever and completely sets the tone for the rest of the album. Sweeping and expansive, yet also introspective and labyrinthian, Reilly conjures beautifully spiraling melodies that glide and wander, sometimes letting themselves get lost in the exploration but never get aimless or muddled. Highly Recommended!
Latest disc of languid minimal abstract dub house bliss from the dynamic duo of Rod Modell and Steve Hitchell, who we've raved about in the past, the two have sort of taken that Chain Reaction heroin house sound, and Pole's skeletal dub, as well as a little Kompakt style Pop Ambience, and woven all that into their own hazy atmospheric drift, which often sounds more like some Philip Jeck turntable performance more than some techno producer, which is probably why we're so into it.
Case in point, opener, "In Echospace", a sea of staticky swells, softly churning, pulsing dreamily, all hazy and murky and washed out and otherworldly, very Jeck or Tim Hecker sounding, a slightly rhythmic blurred dronescape that could have been a Gas track, and that we find ourselves playing over and over. But when we don't press repeat, it glides right into "Summer Haze", which sounds anything but summery, the cloudy murk of the opening track remains, but a woozy reverby beat slowly surfaces, the sounds wreathed in crackle and hiss, a heartbeat like pulse, flecked with dub, and soft focus streaks of melody. The rest of the record follows suit, just check out the titles, "Firefly", "Float", "Warm", there's definitely a theme, although it's only loosely referenced, if at all, "Sub-Marine" ditches much of the gauzy hiss and blur, leaving just a loping rubbery beat, wrapped in subtle squelches, drifting on a layer of shimmery synth thrum, "Burnt Sage" is total heroin house, the beat sounding like it's coming from another building or a passing car or from underwater, the surrounding sounds soft and vaguely industrial, but all smoother out and smeared into soft focus streaks, the next few track find the beats getting bigger, thumps and crunches, still woozy and warbly, but about as close to block rockin' as this stuff will ever get, but as the record progresses from that point on, it seems to follow an arc, slowing down, and blissing out, gradually returning to the primordial sonic murk that started things off, ending with the aptly titled "Warm", which is indeed warm, and languid, soporific, a whirling blurscape of soft tones and muted melody, mixed in with the sounds of the city, voices, buses, cars, life, a gorgeously dreamlike soundtrack to late night life in some lost city...
And all those field recordings are not random, the duo have been obsesed with location recordings, and have actively been gathering sounds from all over, and the second disc here actually contains 80 minutes worth of those original raw field recordings...
Brand new record from this Finnish aQ fave, every new album a slowly blossoming mystery in sound, whether it's manipulated chunks of old vinyl, rickety campfire psychedelia, or expansive soundscapes of delicate crystalline shimmer. Es is the musical monicker of Sami Sanpakkila, who also plays in some other aQ Finnish favorites, most notably Kemialliset Ystavat and Kiila, and who is often joined by various members of the ever shifting and constantly collaborating Finnish underground community.
Kesamaan Lapset seems to be a record composed and performed entirely on keyboards and synthesizers, the opening track is a gloriously sun dappled chunk of skittery sunshiney new age synths, lush swoonsome swells of fuzzy whir, tinkling little melodies, and soft tangles of squiggly glitches, looped and chopped, like a more kinetic caffeinated Oval. The follow up begins with some circusy lo-fi keyboard melodies, that get more and more dense and intricate before the vocals swoop in, super effected and lush, wrapped in delay and reverb, ghostly and otherworldly, drifting lazily and dreamily over the softly chaotic jumble of tones and melodic fragments, managing to be pretty and soft, but fractured and off kilter at the same time.
The first of the two long tracks is a slow building dronescape, thick swells of warm lush organ whir, beneath delicate spidery piano melodies, the whole thing growing ever brighter and more insistent, various keyboards beginning to stutter and skitter creating all manner of incidental rhythms before finishing off in a dense swirl of hissy soft focus drift.
The 21 minute title track is all woozy dream pop, female vocals, over a constantly undulating bed of looped pianos and swirling synths, male vocals offer up some unlikely harmonies, horns slowly surface as do gauzy clouds of effects, before transforming into a deep, dark, almost brooding bit of keyboard driven drift, replete with all manner of Oval like digital glitch, warbly and underwater sounding, super hypnotic and intense, eventually giving way to a strange bit of majestic fanfare before fading out in a brief blur of warm abstract melody.
The final brief track is a buzzed out coda, all electronic glitchery, fuzzy drones, plonked electric piano, howled vocals buried in the mix, tons of grit and texture, buzz and whir, like a way more abstract Animal Collective.
Certainly a bit different than any of the other Es releases, but in its own warm and warped, tripped out and twisted way, a logical extension of Es's ever expanding soundworld. And we dig it.
As always, the packaging is super cool full color 4 panel gatefold, with some amazing childhood photos, printed insert with more cool art and liner notes, and a gold and white printed obi.
If you ever wondered what the Vaselines might have sounded like, if they were a bit darker, and heavier and a little more shoegazey, well, look no further. Eugenius, the post Vaselines project of Eugene Kelly, briefly called Captain America before they were sued, and featuring members of Teenage Fanclub and BMX Bandits, is that band, taking the classic Glasgow pop sound and roughing it up a bit, adding a little Loop and Spacemen 3 and Swervedriver to the mix. Or according to Kelly it was actually Big Star, The Byrds and Neil Young And Crazy Horse, but same difference. Don't believe us? Go listen to "Flame On", then maybe "Oomalama", we'll wait...
What'd we tell you? Big fuzzed out heavy guitars, crashing drums, soaring choruses, wild psychedelic leads, all wrapped around classic Vaselines style pop, it might sound like a weird mix, but once you get into it, you kind of wish more bands sounded like that. And while some did attempt a similar melding of pop and power, in a distinctly NOT power pop fashion, these guys were just super special, due in a big way to Kelly's incredible songwriting. In fact it's pretty easy to imagine any of your favorite Vaselines tunes, redone Eugenius style, which is essentially what Eugenius was, a super charged grungier shoegazier Vaselines, and if that doesn't sound awesome, then go ahead and listen to those sound samples again, and if it still doesn't sound amazing, then we just give up.
Pretty much all the songs here are killer. "Flame On" might be our favorite, but "Breakfast" is jangly perfect pop, "One's Too Many" almost sounds like old punker Lemonheads, "Hot Dog" is a gorgeous string laden mix tape breakup jam if there ever was one, "Buttermilk" is fuzzy and distorted and catchy as hell and totally sounds like it could have / should have been a Vaselines tune, a bunch of the songs sound like Teenage Fanclub, which makes sense, but again, Kelly's songs are just magical. The music is incredible, but the lyrics too, funny, clever, sincere, goofy, this record still ranks up there as one of our all time pop faves. If you've never heard it you're in for a HUGE treat.
This reissue tacks on two old Captain America tracks, including a fantastic cover of Beat Happening's "Indian Summer", which sounds like it could be a Eugenius original, and there's also a bonus disc of acoustic radio sessions, which features stripped down versions of three Eugenius songs, two Vaselines songs, and "Indian Summer" again...
So so so so so great!!!
Our '70s Japanese psychedelia section just keeps getting bigger and better, in part thanks to the UK reissue label Phoenix, who brought us Brast Burn last list, also recently Karuna Khyal, Far Out, and another Far East Family Band album, Nipponjin. That one was their second, from 1975, and if you liked it you'll like this, Parallel World being its 1976 follow up, boasting one of the most perfect cover paintings ever, showing the band sitting in a wooden boat, in space, flying through the colorful cosmos. (The guy with the headphones and shades is so cool!)
Once again produced by kosmiche electronics master Klaus Schulze (with Gunter Schickert as recording assistant), this proved to be the band's final album, but it's a fantastic one, that deserves honorary krautrock classic status even though the band are Japanese. It's certainly a space rock classic at any rate, beginning with "Metempsychosis", a trippy intro full of spooky synth squiggle and snip-snip-snip drumming that accelerates into a blissed out shimmer, a combo that they take to extended extremes on the next track, the 16 minutes of "Entering/Times", full of buzz and gurgle, propulsive rhythmic scatter-clatter, and grandiose prog moves... it sounds somewhere betwixt Acid Mothers Temple and Zombi, really!
Vocals make an appearance on "Kokoro", a mostly gentle, lovely sort of dreamy ballad, but one that also features some searing, soaring electric guitar action to bow down and worship. And THEN there's the title track, a suite, 30 minutes long! It's a doozy, encompassing funky wah guitars, thick synth fuzz, electronic tinkering tingling tinkling, even some dubbiness... At times it's urgently rhythmic, but that can give way to calm, spaced out drone, it's got parts that remind us of Can, parts that could be Funkadelic circa their most lysergic effort Free Your Mind... And Your Ass Will Follow, and parts that sound like Augustus Pablo. If every druggy hippy jam sounded like this, we'd be living in a Parallel World indeed!
Obligatory Japrocksampler chart position citation: Julian Cope put this at number FOUR in his top 50. We don't always agree with his rankings, but it's definitely worthy of being up there. And it's in Phoenix's usual "wallet" (whatever) packaging, limited to 1000 numbered copies.
Another fantastic Miasmah release, this one from FNS, aka Fredrik Ness Sandoval, who besides playing in a whole bunch of Norwegian bands we've never heard of, has collaborated with members of Acid Mothers Temple, 1/3 Octave Band, the Cranes, Zeni Geva, and Marble Sheep, but here on his solo debut, Sandoval crafts a gorgeous expanse of minimal psychedelic folk, that reminds us both of local dronefolk duo Barn Owl, but also space kraut astral travelers Expo 70.
Imagine folk music transformed into druggy drifty dreamy space ragas, and you'll be getting close, acoustic guitars unfurl gorgeous trancelike stretches of almost Appalachia like strum, while all around, effects swirl, other guitars are layered and woven into the original guitar, creating fantastical stretches of psychedelic drift, of abstract dronekraut minimalism, all infused with a subtle pathos, even the sunshiniest of the tracks here, brood with a somber undercurrent. The record opener sets the stage perfectly, an acoustic guitars strums a melancholy chord progression, while another guitar churns and chugs, a rhythmic counterpoint to the woozy drift of the acoustic, this undulating space raga is laced with tinkling chimes, swooping backwards effects, all wreathed in a sort of otherworldly shimmer, and allowed to loop and repeat and mesmerize, growing subtly more intense and loud, but never fully letting loose, instead, eventually shedding all the extra guitars and strange production, leaving just the warm strummed acoustic, and little streaks of backwards swoop. We say it a lot, but Sandoval could have stretched that out to 40 or 50 minutes and we'd STILL be raving about it. And that applies to all the tracks here.
"Sappelur" is a smoldering blackened dirge, roiling clouds of processed buzz, muted feedback, lots of layered tones and lush chordal blur, a lovely blown out psychedelic haze that just throbs and pulses and drifts, right into "Wooden Leg", which returns to the folk of the album opener, but unlike that track, the progression here is much more subtle, it's nearly 2 or 3 minutes before a strange drone begins to surface, along with gorgeous angelic female vocals, soon male vocals join in as well, not singing so much as sort of crooning along, the result is a darker, more menacing take on classic seventies British acid folk.
"I Think She's Asleep" is more abstract, a gorgeous shimmery dreamscape, all layered tones, and pulled apart melodies, haunting and otherwordly, hushed and lovely, very reminiscent of folks like Machinefabriek and Jasper TX. "Dream" is surprisingly less dreamy, sounding instead like some strange sonic ritual, spidery guitars wrapped around twisted damaged electronics, while the vocals transform the sound into something almost liturgical, lots of reverb and echo, as if it were being performed in some massive black cathedral, the effects swirling and swooping, and pushing the sound into the realms of spacekrautdrone for sure.
Finally, the record closes with the epic 12 minute "Flaggermusvingers Vift I Dimmet", which again begins as a slowly unfurling lush sprawl of melancholy Appalachia, all minor key and mournful, while just below the surface, some thick blackened buzzing is birthed, and as the track progresses, it grows more and more caustic, roiling and churning, eventually nearly swallowing the Appalachia whole, transforming the sound into some washed out doomgaze, all woozy and swirly, the low end swells laced with tangled psychedelic melodies, before dropping out completely, leaving just a soft focus cloud of distant reverbed shimmer, a distant cosmic vibration, that seems to gradually fade, like the stars disappearing behind the clouds.
Dark and dreamy and druggy and so so gorgeous... For fans of Expo 70, Svarte Greiner, Barn Owl, Jacaszek, Nadja, Jasper TX, Machinefabriek, Fear Falls Burning and other purveyors of doomfolk, krautdrone, spacefolk and all sorts of abstract minimal guitarscapery...
The continued series of Suicide related 10"s from Blast First Petite offers three tracks here with Gavin Friday & Dave Ball, Thomas Brinkmann, and Alan Vega himself. The A-side is a thorough '80s throwback with former Virgin Prune frontman Gavin Friday paired with Soft Cell technician Dave Ball covering the classic Suicide tune "Ghostrider". A deft and faithful interpretation found here. Brinkmann's cover / remix of Suicide's "Diamonds, Furcoats, Champagne" had originally appeared on a 12" from 2006, engineered out of a one-note bassline topping a mid-tempo techno groove and sparkling washes of synths scattered from above. The arrangements share the Suicide spirit of cocaine-driven glitz set against an undercurrent of teeth-clinching paranoia, all of which are driven home with Vega's vocals. The Alan Vega track was also previously released from his 1999 album entitled 2007.
We're pretty sure we have this Ghast thing all sorted out, there's a Ghast that's Welsh, and whose May The Curse Bind just got reissued on vinyl, who traffic in a sort of doom laced black metal, then there's this Canadian horde, whose sound is way more filthy and fucked up, a sort of glacial blackened crawl, all downtuned sludge, crumbling distortion, and harsh gurgled demonic vokills, not to mention the strange swirl of grit and grime and buzz and hiss that seems to surround everything they do like a glorious black sonic cloud of hiss and crackle. And that's precisely what you get on these two tracks, two extended filthfests, crushing, lumbering dirges, each a lurching sonic behemoth, howling and hateful and despondent and depressive and heavy and brutal as fuck. These ultradoom crawls creep malevolently along, the vocals sometimes doused in reverb, sometimes just grunting and gurgling demonically, melodies played out over minutes, buried in the murk and mire, super dynamic, and a little bit bizarre, especially the second track, the vocals sounding almost like a Muppet, the sonic death march being bombarded by strange electronics and streaks of skittery static. Pretty goddamn great. These guys should really get the same love bands like Moss and Bunkur and Corrupted do...
We'd never heard of Abandoner before, but apparently, they're a sort of blackened post industrial drone outfit made up of members of US doom sludge juggernaut Unearthly Trance. Weirdly enough, UT would have been a perfect sonic match for Ghast, maybe too perfect, so instead, we're treated to, or punished by, Abandoner's caustic soundscapes, all wild bolts of feedback, strange processed noises, loads of buzz, and rumble, guitars not so much played and allowed to spew gouts of crunch and howl and skree, everything wrapped in a hazy field of murky thrum, laced with damaged electronics, noisy, but not NOISE, more like a sort of even more twisted, less melodic Wolf Eyes? But definitely cool stuff, and an interesting foil to Ghast's monstrous downtuned black doom trudge.
Finally, the full length has landed, a killer collection of industrial, electronic flecked, dubbed out metallic pummel from Grey Machine, three parts Jesu, one part Isis, the long anticipated team up of Justin Broadrick and Aaron Turner. We were treated to a teaser in the form of a super limited 12". We still have a few copies left, actually, with an exclusive super rad dubby remix B-side. The A-side, "Vultures Descend" is found on Disconnected as well, we described it thusly:
"A wild cacophonous chaotic noise jam, that features crunchy post industrial rhythms wrapped around a thick blown out blast of dubstep style bass, the vocals fuzzy and lo-fi buried way down in the mix, some woozy dark descending riffage, the timbre prickly and abrasive, but beneath all the churning and roiling heaviness (and it IS heavy) are some awesomely melodic guitar lines and some tripped out spacerock FX draped over the almost jungle bass and drums (or should we say drum + bass)."
Sounds good huh? Cuz it IS good. Really good. Although the whole record isn't quite as chaotic and abrasive, every song is pretty dense and sprawling, much of it sounding quite a bit like Broadrick's former outfit Godflesh, but with way more weirdness mixed in, be it extra programmed beats, layered guitars, explosions of thick oozing psych buzz, whatever. The opening track is the perfect example, with its low slung bass and industrial drumming, weaving trancelike through clouds of electronic hiss, mysterious creaks and groans, the vocals processed and chopped up, the song a lurching, unstoppable beast, but all around it, strange sounds are surfacing, transforming, becoming tangled up in that lumbering crush, as the guitars get thicker and more distorted, but seem to be twisting and warping... Eventually the drums drop out leaving just a sky full of high end streaks and a feedback skree drone drift.
So yeah, the sound here is Godfleshy, definitely not as blissy as Jesu, although some of those elements still remain, wrapped around a dense rigid industrial framework, with some surprising bits of modern electronic music (dubstep!) deftly woven into GM's sound without sticking out or sounding forced.
"When Attention Just Isn't Enough" begins life as another gloriously plodding dirge, but chiming guitars and fat fuzzy dubby bass transform it into something much more moody and groovy. "Wasted" begins with that sort of super heavy synth bass that defines most dubstep jams, but here it's laced over skittery metallic percussion and squiggly psychedelic leads, and lots and lots of noise. But it does rear up and buzz wildly every few measures, making it almost feel like some sort of industrial metal dubstep. But the wah guitars and squalls of freaked out FX also give it a distinctly Loop / Hawkwind sort of drug jam vibe as well. A killer combination for sure.
"Sweatshop" is the only really electronic sounding track, still thick ropy basslines, but with a killer loping programmed beat, super distorted and sort-of-funky, the whole thing super skeletal and dubby, with tons of texture and ambience, before giving way to the final track, probably the most blissed out of the bunch, still industrial and murky and washed out sounding, but everything is wreathed in a warm haze, the guitars muted, the drums minimal, the bass rumbling and fuzzy, lots of tape hiss and amp buzz, almost dreamy, but still appropriately ominous and intense.
Killer packaging too, blacks and greys and metallic silvers, printed on transparent vellum, with the other pages of the booklet visible through the cover, inside all sorts of high contrast video stills, a look both modern and reminiscent of the old Earache / Godflesh days. Cool.
Like a blast from the krautrock past, Bureau B brings us the debut album from Gurumaniax. But, unlike a lot of the German label's releases, this ISN'T a reissue - it's a brand new album featuring the two surviving members of krautrock legends Guru Guru, drummer Mani Neumeier and guitarist Ax Genrich. Hence the name, GuruManiAx, get it? Sadly, original bass player Uli Trepte passed away last year, so the trio is rounded out by new bassist Guy Segers from veteran art proggers Univers Zero (with guest Mario Engelter performing bass duties on two of the tracks as well). The final track here is entitled "For Uli T." but it's as if the whole thing is dedicated to his memory, doubtless he'd approve 'cause Gurumaniax is about the closest thing to ye olde Guru Guru as could be imagined, really it sounds like they went way back to the earliest albums by the original trio for inspiration (UFO, Hinten, and Kanguru, circa 1970-72). Dunno if they dropped some acid too, to get into the mood, we wouldn't be surprised...
It's card-carrying krautrock all right, freaky and psychedelic, meandering and mesmeric, mostly instrumental. Psy Valley Hill is full of lengthy, pulsating jams and drifting, echoing FX, with just enough (but not too much) of Guru Guru's trademark goofiness / weirdness (ferinstance, "Telefonladies", with the voices of telephone operators mixed into the music). Much of it is super spacey, with swirling electronics in all the nooks and crannies. Their MO seemingly involves lots and lots of improvisational freedom, yet each song finds structure and identity. Results range from the jauntily spaced-out free-rock-abilly of "Voodoo Touch" to, on the very next track, the chain-rattling abstract soundscape of "Electrosaurus", that could be something by Absolut Null Punkt.
Gurumaniax are good natured and generally mellowed out, but still venturesome, traipsing to the edge of the void and sometimes beyond. The splatter of Mani's percussion and the echoed unfurling of Ax's axe is often slow and steady, even somnolent or sedate, but elsewhere utterly urgent and agitated... Quite obviously, these guys know what they're doing, heck it was about 40 years ago they first started making these sort of sounds, now the bread and butter of bands like LSD-march, Circle, and of course Acid Mothers Temple, with whom the ever-energetic Neumeier has collaborated. And, speaking of Circle, we're really reminded of that Scandinavian band by track four, "Ghost Of Odin", a lazy almost dubbed-out jam, blissfully hypnotic, with occasional quirky vocal mutter, eventually building to a loud, distorted climax... nice!!
Mani is always making records, but it's especially exciting to hear again from Ax, whose last solo album back in 1995, Wave Cut, was quite fine. It's commendable that, without T., they decided not to officially bill this as a Guru Guru reunion. But, listening to it, they certainly could have. Gurumaniax is the real deal. Recommended! And not only to krautrock heads, but also to post rock types who like Tortoise and stuff like that, check this out and see if it's not too hippy for you!
While Health were once a crazy amalgamation of fractured rhythms, crashing guitars, glitched out electronics, freaky noise and retro futuristic new wave, the band always had a thing for dance music, and their weirdo noise always definitely leaned in that direction, hell this is their SECOND record called Disco, and like the first it's a collection of remixes, mostly by groups we've never heard of, but who all do amazing things to Health's already pretty amazing music. So this is NOT a new record, although there is one new song, "USA Boys", which is a slow burning synth driven groove, big beats, hazy washed out vocal harmonies, a melancholy main melody, not dance music so much as some sort of dark electronic pop, reminding us a bit of M83, all hazy and shoegazey, definitely has us hankering for more new Health. The rest of the record, though, is all remixes, only two by bands we're familiar with, Tobacco, and Crystal Castles, whom Health seem to have a connection with, as this is at least the second Crystal Castles / Health remix, and they even shared a split.
The Crystal Castles mix is a murky dreamlike drift, a soft focus sonic fog, that gradually grows more manic and abstract, wild drumming, twisted bits of electronics, voices reverbed and washed out, it manages to be propulsive and new wave, but also weary and otherwordly at the same time, has us kind of wishing the two bands would just permanently join forces! The Tobacco remix is all motorik beats and synthesizer squelch, groovy and very Ed Banger sounding, the synths thick and fuzz and blown out, wrapped around serpentine basslines and some eighties style melodies, the vocals here too are doused in reverb and rendered ghostlike, the result, like the CC mix, is simultaneously groovy and dreamlike. The rest of the mixes are pretty much just as cool, transforming the originals into all shades of twisted electronic disco pop, lots of synths, all manner of beats, from soft skitter, to pounding crunch, there's some total Kompakt style house-y pulse, some new wave shoegaze throb and shimmer, some almost OMD / Erasure style dance pop, even one track where the beats are ditched completely for something much more atmospheric and mesmerizing, long synth tones, deep swells, soft focus vox, a sort of new wave dream ballad, so good.
And if that weren't enough, there's a whole extra collection of mp3 mixes, basically an extra entire album's worth, as good as the album proper (not sure why they didn't just make it a double cd), with mixes from Nite Jewel, Clipd Beaks, and another whole gaggle of unknown (to us) remixers who work their magic.
We'd been meaning to review this for a while. After HB's unanimous fave and aQ Record Of The Week, O.ut O.f P.hase, and a kick ass, and way too short set at our South By Southwest showcase this year, we know we needed more more more. This comp collects all the early out of print material from these short sharp snotty noise poppers, their first two 7"s, a split cassette, a super limited 12", not to mention a couple unreleased track, and while this stuff is WAY more raw and lo-fi, it's easy to hear the ramshackle perfect pop juggernaut these guys would be come. And considering how noisy and unhinged and loose and on the verge of collapse these guys were on their newest record, you can imagine what a looser more fucked up version of THAT might sound like.
All the stuff we love about Home Blitz is already firmly in place, sharp angular riffage, jangly guitars, wild drumming, killer hooks and classic melodies, and that voice, an about to crack warbly yelp, that occasionally slips into a falsetto, the recording definitely low fidelity, but super bright and weirdly lush at the same time. And the songs, like total classic power pop / punk pop, but more homebrewed, most 1-2 minutes, rollicking and wild and super rocking, slipping from total chaotic freeforall, to crunchy jangle, to lo-fi bedroom pop, to faux arena rock out, to blasting garage punk, to woozy druggy Velvetsy drone rock, and back to full on blistering trash pop again, sounding like a band that would sound right at home on Siltbreeze, but with many of the songs sounding like they could have been plucked right off one of those lost pop comps like Yellow Pills.
There are a few tracks where the band gets more far out, "Bored" is a reverb drenched dirge, clouds of cymbal sizzle float over muted trashcan percussion, big clanging guitar chords, howled vox, or the 9+ minute "Yard", which almost sounds like some sort of Dead C ballad, all splattery percussion, detuned guitar, swaths of crumbling distortion and static, a stumbling chunk of free rock that gives way to a weird piano driven vamp, that sounds almost like Elton John via Sentridoh or something, eventually crumbling into some sort of abstract field recording driven noise rock workout. But then it's back to more loose unhinged noisy power pop bliss, including a killer glammy Slade cover! We love these guys!
What's not to love about these guys (and gal)? Crushing, riff heavy grooves, sludgey, and Southern sounding (even though they're from Rhode Island), downtuned, low slung, brutal, but weirdly catchy too, with a bit of a post rock vibe here and there, totally headbangable and epic. If you had to situate Howl sonically, they would probably fall somewhere between Baroness, High On Fire, Soilent Green, and Sleep, you get the drift, a sort of stonery Sabbathy sludge, that doesn't wallow in tarpit tempos, but instead bulldozes through dense clouds of grinding buzz, slipping from midtempo crush to woozy metallic swing, to blasting thrashing pummel, the drums like battering rams, the guitars murky and muddy, with occasional bursts of psychedelic leads, that help balance the band's predominant low low low end, the vocals a monstrous bellow, all that wound into churning, almost proggy arrangements, some of the moments recall the heaving might of Neurosis, while others, channel classic metal into something way more dark and dirgey, the whole record is a headspinning, neck snapping riff fest, but the final track, "The Day Of Rest" might be our favorite, the slowest and most sprawling of the bunch, slipping from serpentine Sabbathy slither to cool start stop ultra dynamic lurch and lumber, to almost Maideny melodicism, churning chug underpinned by pounding double kick drumming, while guitars harmonize over the top, before getting almost shoegazey near the end, finally winding down with some droned out layered guitar feedback. Fuck Yeah.
A brand new record from Illinois one man black metal I Shalt Become is always cause for much excitement around here. The aQ metalheads can't get enough of ISB's haunting Burzumic creep, dirgey and doomy and depressive, but as we've mentioned before, ISB takes Burzum's black template and transforms it into something much more lush and washed out and dreamlike, incorporating strings, and swaths of shoegaze-y ambience, we often compare ISB's black metal to very UN black metal soundmakers like Philip Jeck and Tim Hecker, it's got that sort of warm gauzy quality, all blurred and bleary and otherworldly. Which is what we were expecting on Poison, and while that is still present, the sound seems to have shifted dramatically, with the blackness and the buzz taking a backseat, to the orchestration, cellos and violas, symphonies, synthesizers, pizzicato violin melodies, swirling clouds of frenzied cinematic strings, it's kind of shocking, not because classical music and black metal are strange bedfellows, but more because of how the two are mixed here, the result at first is jarring, and as much as we were imaging more of that lush textured murk, this is something way more far out, and fucked up and awesome. It's almost like a black metal score for some Hollywood blockbuster, dramatic and emotional and intense, but those soundtracky elements underpinned by howling metal shrieks, and droning buzzing riffage, that stuff in the background, as opposed to the other way around, it's weird, but seriously cool.
The opening track is all classical fanfare, until the drums come in, and some growled groaned vokills, but they're almost more textural, as horns moan, and the strings soar, it's depressive, but in a wholly different way than we're used to, the drums are matched up with booming tympanis, choral arrangements are rendered in shades of grey and black, there are moments of buzz, but those usually dissipate into something much more atmospheric, letting strings, or orchestral swells drive the tracks, the murky buzzing blackness off in the background, in some ways it's almost more like industrial music, that sort of martial neo classical, MZ412 or Toroidh or Von Thronstahl, Teutonic, epic, majestic, just a bit more metal, but only a bit.
Lots of metalheads will probably be screaming foul, as it was, ISB's sound was already bordering on the avant garde, more minimal and dreamlike, than grim and black, but this has definitely pushed the sound even further afield, but it sounds incredible to us, and just leaves us one question, when is some visionary Hollywood director gonna hit this guy up to score a film??
We're beginning to think if it wasn't for Planet Mu, we wouldn't be hearing any dubstep at all... Can't really figure out why more labels aren't getting more of that stuff over here, hundreds, maybe thousands of killer 12"s, DJ mix tapes, proper albums, and only a trickle actually makes it over here, bit the folks at Planet Mu obviously have great taste (or at least taste a lot like ours) cuz the stuff they do put out is the cream of the crop: Starkey, Vex'd, Distance, Milanese, Legion Of Two, Boxcutter, Pinch, Virus Syndicate, MRK1 and now Ital Tek. Not sure how we missed the last Ital Tek record, cuz this one is a doozy, not super dark or sinister, instead this definitely falls somewhere closer to stuff like Clubroot, Ikonika, Zomby, Burial, Shackleton, warm and fuzzy, the beats low slung and laid back, the usual dubstep bass warble toned way down, still thick and fuzzy, just less warbly, disembodied female vocals adding a subtle soul element, some of the tracks are super lo-fi and 8-bit sounding, others are more new wavey and sound a bit John Carpenter-ish, while others are dark and skittery, and still others are haunting and nearly ambient, but Ital Tek's unique vibe is the thread that runs through all the tracks, a little washed out, a little eighties, dreamy and dubby, shimmery and skittery, the lighter side of dubstep, with just enough darkness to keep things interesting...
Awesome sun soaked lo-fi garage pop from Miami, that's overflowing with awesome hooks and colorful personality. Somehow these tracks are infused with a baked lackadaisical stoner vibe yet the songs are so damn fast, immediate and out of control catchy. Yes, lo-fi garage pop is a very crowded field these days, but damn, as long as folks keep cranking out shit that's this good, our ears still have plenty of room. And this really is that good. All three songs on this 7" totally rule, and we still love this format, the best for an introduction to a band. Show us you can make a few perfect songs, worthy of us getting up to lay the needle down over and over and then you have won us over for when your full length comes out. Fans of Wavves, Thee Oh Sees, Dum Dum Girls, Ty Segall, Best Coast, etc. will be all over this. Like all things Mexican Summer this is limited so grab one now so you don't have to go hunting on eBay later.
Comes with a coupon for a digital download of the songs as well.
First release from these Brooklyn psychedelic looped pop alchemists, featuring former aQ-er Frank, who is featured in all his badassness, along with the rest of the Keepaway crew, on the back cover, a goofy shot featuring much posturing, some gold medallions, and what appears to be some silver shiny panties on one of the pantsless band members, but don't be distracted by the visual silliness, cuz there's some seriously heady, sonic trippiness inside.
You might do an audio doubletake on first listen, within the first few seconds of "Yellow Wings" you'll immediately notice these guys bear an uncanny resemblance to fellow Brooklyn avant poppers Animal Collective, which is undeniable so we might as well just throw that out right here, these guys sound a lot like Animal Collective, but we love Animal Collective so we're already digging 'the sound', before we even begin to get into what it is that makes Keepaway their own (sort of) unique beast. The aforementioned "Yellow Wings" is probably the most Animal Collective-y track here, with its chiming guitars, chopped and looped samples, programmed percussion mixed with live drumming, the woozy vocals, which also remind us of Modest Mouse, but Keepaway add their own little twist with some gloomy almost new wavey eighties style riffs, just below the surface, it's a great pop jam for sure, and AC fans will eat this up, as will fans of other groups in the new wave of new wave, like The Drums, Surfer Blood and the like.
The rest of the record gets a little more spaced out, and only a little less Animal Collective-y, "Family Of The Son" begins all minimal and skittery, but once the warm guitars and wavery vocals come in, joined by some martial snares, and a hazy swath of warm shimmer, we're back in that sort of washed out hypno tribal psych groove otherworld Animal Collective, if not invented, at least REinvented. "I think About You All The Time" wraps woozy synths around skeletal rhythms, and some super sweet melodic vocals and handclaps, a retro electro love song that gets more trippy and druggy as it goes.
The last two tracks are just as fuzzy and sunshine-y and psychedelic and shimmery, stirring in some lush Beach Boys style harmonies, some spidery post rock guitars, a little old school indie jangle, some electronic glitch, thick fuzzy synths and of course loads of reverb and delay and other effects. Cool cool cool.
Earnest raw and rocking sounds from two Brooklyn kids. But fear not, this isn't just posturing hipster flavor of the day lo-fi garage bandwagoning. While there is a very lo-fi feel to these garage pop burners, we hear more of that classic fuzzy indie pop sound we'll always be in love with a la early Guided By Voices, Rocketship, Unrest, Sentridoh, Grifters, etc. Songs that sound so stripped down and primitive yet are filled with such a great sense of melody and jammed with total hooks that would hit you hard over the head had they been mega produced but instead seep into your veins just right as they are buried in the overall fuzzed out mix. We're also reminded of some of our favorite early K Records bands as there is a sincerity oozing from these bedroom recordings that has us totally smitten. A very impressive debut!
By now most folks probably don't need to know much more than the fact that this is a DJ mix from aQ beloved dubstep producer Kode9, and not only features some of his own jams, but tracks by folks like The Bug, Zomby, Ikonika, Digital Mystikz, Terror Danjah, Ramadanman and loads more. And the fact that it rules. But fair warning, this is not at all a straight dubstep mix, there are some serious dubbed out jams, some thick bass warble, and all that jazz, but there's mostly plenty of seriously non dubstep stuff, that's just as cool. The first half of the mix is definitely more danceable and less dubby, the first two tracks are dreamy and housey and melodic, even Kode9's "Blood Orange" ditches dubstep for something more fuzzy and skittery, his "You Don't Wash (Dub)" is also more groovy and late night disco-y than dubby. It's not until the Ikonika track that things get dubby, but even there, it's almost more electro and 8-bit crunchy, Sticky's "Look Pon Me" is a driving, almost grime style groove, with some awesome female toasting, dramatic strings, an irresistible house-pulse, and some cool twisted production, in fact so far, this sounds more like something you'd here on Kompakt, albeit with more bass, and more synth buzz, and less of that 4 by 4 throb.
The second half starts off with a similarly weirdo vibe, Zomby's jam is an awesomely retro slab of video game skitter, swirling electronics, skeletal basslines, tripped out effects, which leads right into a short blast of Kode9 spaced out weirdness, which leads into some serious dubsteppery, Digital Mystikz unleash some super stripped down dubbed out crunch, Terror Danjah, chops up some vocals and adds some fragmented metal guitar, Zomby sprinkles the proceedings with some sparkly electronic fairy dust, before things slip right back into some pulsing grooves, and the mix continues on its curious electronic journey, again only dipping toes into dubstep instead opting for a more free form assemblage of modern electronic music, from house to electro to 2 step to garage, finishing off with a killer dubbed out dancehall jam from The Bug, all low slung bass, streaks of record crackle, spare minimal rhythms, woozy effected ambience and some fierce toasting from Flo Dan. Awesome stuff for sure, although dubsteppers and Kode9 fans should approach with caution, even though you'll probably dig this anyway... and anyone into recent joints from Zomby, Ikonika, Martyn, Ital Tek and other leftfield dubbed out electronic alchemists, grab this NOW!
All right, time to crank the stereo! There's no way to listen to these, but loud. Two rather crucial entries in the distorto-delic discography of seminal '70s Japanese underground rock band Les Rallizes Denudes are now reissued, on proper compact disc for what we think is the very first time, these having being previously only "available", if you can call it that, as cd-rs. Blind Baby Has It's Mothers Eyes, and Heavier Than A Death In The Family, woah, you know with titles like that they've gotta be good. And before you go running to your Japrocksamplers to look 'em up, we'll save you the trouble: Julian Cope rated these two albums at #11 and #3, respectively, on his top 50 of Japanese psych artifacts. Deservedly so.
Heavily mythologized and mysterious, this lo-fi, in-the-red, sunglasses-wearing, Motown-loving, airplane-hijacking (??!), studio-recording-avoiding, raw outsider rock and roll unit provided the inspiration for every latter day underground Japanese psych band who have ever slipped on shades, cranked up their amps, and had a Tokyo Flashback. (Like Fushitsusha!) And these two discs, both equally recommended, are essential documents as to how and why.
Heavier Than A Death In The Family features six songs, all but one of 'em in the double digits, with some great titles, no less than three of 'em referencing the night in some form or other: "Strung Out Deeper Than The Night", "The Night Collectors", "Night Of The Assassins", "Enter The Mirror", "People Can Choose", and "Ice Fire". All were apparently recorded live in '77 (except one from '73). Blistering is the word. Super echoey, reverbed out, almost like Ariel Pink producing Wooden Shjips or Comets On Fire gone dub... Sounds also like some Siltbreeze shitgazers, or current psychsters like Heavy Winged, plodding and throbbing. And "Ice Fire" is 16 minutes of proto-Merzbow meets Hawkwind howl. Wow.
Frayed and fried, ULTRA fuzzed and feedback-y, of course, and yet for a Rallizes release, the sound isn't all that "bad", compared to some of their stuff we've heard wherein the tape hiss competes with the guitar for domination. Not that that's a bad thing, either, but this will take less getting used to.
Meanwhile, Blind Baby Has It's [sic] Mothers [sic] Eyes consists of three tracks, but clocks in at 54 minutes total: the title track, "An Awful Eternity" (aka "An Aweful Eternitie"), and "The Last One". Presumably also recorded live, we don't know when, sometime in the '70s, the sound here is similar sickness. More of their charismatically clangorous chaos, getting quite hypnotically repetitious across the lengths of these three wandering, wah-wah wailing epics. We'd recommend this as a good gift for your friend who likes the Velvet Underground's "Sister Ray", Circle, and primitive black metal such as Striborg... if they haven't heard Les Rallizes yet they'll be thanking you!
Although due to the confusing nature of the Rallizes catalog, we imagine that some of these tracks might appear on other Rallizes discs that you may or may not have, but in any case these two albums are essentials in their entirety. Get 'em while they last.
Typical Phoenix no-frills cardboard "wallet" packaging, each cd numbered and limited to 1000 copies.
All right, time to crank the stereo! There's no way to listen to these, but loud. Two rather crucial entries in the distorto-delic discography of seminal '70s Japanese underground rock band Les Rallizes Denudes are now reissued, on proper compact disc for what we think is the very first time, these having being previously only "available", if you can call it that, as cd-rs. Blind Baby Has It's Mothers Eyes, and Heavier Than A Death In The Family, woah, you know with titles like that they've gotta be good. And before you go running to your Japrocksamplers to look 'em up, we'll save you the trouble: Julian Cope rated these two albums at #11 and #3, respectively, on his top 50 of Japanese psych artifacts. Deservedly so.
Heavily mythologized and mysterious, this lo-fi, in-the-red, sunglasses-wearing, Motown-loving, airplane-hijacking (??!), studio-recording-avoiding, raw outsider rock and roll unit provided the inspiration for every latter day underground Japanese psych band who have ever slipped on shades, cranked up their amps, and had a Tokyo Flashback. (Like Fushitsusha!) And these two discs, both equally recommended, are essential documents as to how and why.
Heavier Than A Death In The Family features six songs, all but one of 'em in the double digits, with some great titles, no less than three of 'em referencing the night in some form or other: "Strung Out Deeper Than The Night", "The Night Collectors", "Night Of The Assassins", "Enter The Mirror", "People Can Choose", and "Ice Fire". All were apparently recorded live in '77 (except one from '73). Blistering is the word. Super echoey, reverbed out, almost like Ariel Pink producing Wooden Shjips or Comets On Fire gone dub... Sounds also like some Siltbreeze shitgazers, or current psychsters like Heavy Winged, plodding and throbbing. And "Ice Fire" is 16 minutes of proto-Merzbow meets Hawkwind howl. Wow.
Frayed and fried, ULTRA fuzzed and feedback-y, of course, and yet for a Rallizes release, the sound isn't all that "bad", compared to some of their stuff we've heard wherein the tape hiss competes with the guitar for domination. Not that that's a bad thing, either, but this will take less getting used to.
Meanwhile, Blind Baby Has It's [sic] Mothers [sic] Eyes consists of three tracks, but clocks in at 54 minutes total: the title track, "An Awful Eternity" (aka "An Aweful Eternitie"), and "The Last One". Presumably also recorded live, we don't know when, sometime in the '70s, the sound here is similar sickness. More of their charismatically clangorous chaos, getting quite hypnotically repetitious across the lengths of these three wandering, wah-wah wailing epics. We'd recommend this as a good gift for your friend who likes the Velvet Underground's "Sister Ray", Circle, and primitive black metal such as Striborg... if they haven't heard Les Rallizes yet they'll be thanking you!
Although due to the confusing nature of the Rallizes catalog, we imagine that some of these tracks might appear on other Rallizes discs that you may or may not have, but in any case these two albums are essentials in their entirety. Get 'em while they last.
Typical Phoenix no-frills cardboard "wallet" packaging, each cd numbered and limited to 1000 copies.
We're up to number 6 in Madlib's 12 part Medicine Show series, all of them great, but THIS is the one we've been waiting for, a dizzying megamix of "global psychedelic, progressive and hard rock & funk circa 1968-1976", hell yeah, we were already way into Madlib, but the thought of him spinning a crazy selection of mysterious and amazing heavy funky jams, well shit, we were pretty much sold before we heard it. And it's pretty much just how you'd imagine, crazy fuzzy psych rock covers, buzzy guitars, fluttering flutes, exotic ballads, skittery rhythms, wild progged out organs, frenzied drumming, woozy grooves, lysergic jams, all chopped up and looped and woven together, laced with really funny spoken word bits, girls talking about all the drugs they've taken, Pee Wee Herman, comedy records, commercials, plenty of thrift store weirdness and tripped out effects peppering the otherwise heavy rocking proceedings. Separated into smaller mini mixes, each track is jammed with buzz and fuzz, howl and shimmy, tracks skipping and slowing down, voices sped up, garage rock colliding with surf rock, hard rock giving way to dreamy soul giving way to wah wah drenched acid rock, flutes and organs and jawharps and animal calls, wild crowd sounds, drum solos, totally drugged out musical meltdowns, this is definitely not a straight mix, or a selection of classic jams, instead it's a classic hip hop style mix, just sourced from prog and psych and hard rock records, and it's fucking awesome.
While Pains Of Being Pure At Heart perfectly tap into the breezy and carefree side of '80s glory in the vein of The Smiths, the Magic Bullets reside in a similar territory but there is more of an emotional urgency imbedded in their songs. We loved their debut 12" from last year, and when we heard they lost one of their members to the band Girls, we were worried that that meant the end of Magic Bullets. But luckily that is not the case as they have this brand new album and a new 7" (reviewed next time!) and the songs are sounding even more confident, catchy and punchy. While The Smiths are the band we're sure they'll get compared to the most, we actually hear much more of a Housemartians influence in their sound, which we think is awesome as we've always been surprised that the Housemartians never experienced the huge revival of praise and attention that they totally deserve. Magic Bullets have this great ability to tap into the best of romantic Manchester pop, yet never sound like a tribute or nostalgic act, as their songs are crafted so well with hooks and melodies that have been making us sway and swoon with total delight.
This is some major left of center space funk. Mandre had a brief moment on Motown but most of his music was released on his own private press label, which made finding any of his records nearly impossible. Wearing space helmets and adopting a mysterious alter-ego long before folks like Daft Punk, Mandre really was a pioneer of electronic funk. Originally released in 1980, 4 starts off with a couple of the most majestic and shimmering waves of space disco we've ever heard. The second half of the record veers way more into full on funk territory, still keeping a warped vibe but sometimes the vocals make it a bit hokey sounding. We wanted to be totally in love with this, and we do totally dig the first few tracks for sure, but not all of the tracks are as awesome as those two jams. No doubt folks like Dam-Funk have been hip to Mandre for years. Still a total must have for rare groove and electro-funk fiends.
Another cd-r release from Heart and Crossbone, the label that brought us records from Israeli blackened spazz rock duo Barbara and one man thrash-grind band Cadaver Eyes (reviewed elsewhere on this list). This Mildew cd-r is a bit high concept. The idea is that you download a script and the piece will play at random pre-determined starting points, making the songs a bit different every time. Or something like that. Cool, huh? Musically this is a lot different that anything we've yet heard from Heart and Crossbone. All electronic, spastic programmed drums, squelching synths, occasional sampled metal guitars, jagged pounding industrial rhythms, moaning minor key melodies, brief spurts of drill and bass, some full on metal riffing sliced and diced, martial percussion, some blissed out dubbiness. Really cool. Definitely for fans of Aphex Twin, stuff on Planet Mu, or any of the more out there electronic stuff on the Jester label.
Special 200th issue of this always enlightening and interesting (and 154 pages thick) UK music mag. Guest-edited by cover star Tom Waits! Inside, they bring out the big guns: Johnny Cash, White Stripes, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, U2, Radiohead, Bob Dylan, Harry Belafonte, Nirvana, Arctic Monkeys, and more!! Lots more. Including the usual free cd stuck to the cover, compiled and sequenced by Mr. Waits.
Doesn't get much heavier than this. Louisiana sludgelords Thou matched up with UK ultradoom heavies Moloch (not to be confused with the Ukrainian black metallers Moloch).
By now, like us, you're probably pretty obsessed with Thou, of the multitudes of practitioners of the incredibly slow and low, Thou probably come closest to capturing the spirit of the bands who got us into that sort of heaviness in the first place, Eyehategod, Bongzilla, Weedeater, Noothgrush, disEMBOWELMENT, Winter, Sleep, 16, Buzzoven, the Melvins, but they do it so well and they do it in a way that few others can, and that's by infusing some serious pop into their sound. Fear not, it's not obvious, not at all, and most folks might not hear it, but it's there, and it transforms their sludge entirely.
The first track is the perfect example, sludgy and sour, everything wrapped in a warm distortion blanket. Great vokillz as always. The drums pounding away mercilessly, the guitars sounding like they're in slow motion, churning and chugging, the tone insanely corrosive and blown out, but then there are these intense chiming melodies, that change the vibe completely, some weird hybrid of the Melvins, Nirvana and Eyehategod, slipping from NOLA style Southern sludgey groove, to full on ultradoom plod, to what sounds almost like death metal slowed down to a crawl, to what sounds like their cover of Nirvana's "Sifting", which finally answers our prayers, whenever a killer band does a cover of another band, and it's amazing, and we can't help but wish there was just a band that sounded LIKE THAT, not just when they were covering songs by other bands, well, here you go!! The second track offers up more heavy bliss, opening with a riff like Sleep's "Jerusalem" before the rest of the band kicks in and things get all tense and dark before breaking out into some melodic serpentine riffery. So grim and doomy and sludgy but you can still hear all the definition of the song, before it eventually builds into an ultra depressive lament. Fuck yeah.
Moloch counter with some of their own filthy crusty sludge. Opening with a glacial squall of barely moving but steady black buzz riffage. Hardcore vocals and Neanderthal drum pound and knuckle dragging amp buzz that rides out with seemingly infinite sustain, evolving into an abject midtempo sonic beatdown. The second track introduces some groove, but Moloch's idea of groove is way less groovy and way more menacing, the lurching lumbering crush laced with hateful throat shredding howls, and some super harmonic riffage.
Super nice woodcut style packaging with a heavy printed inner sleeve and nice thick jacket, pressed on cloudy clear vinyl, LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES.
Believe it or not, it's been a while since we've been this excited about a black metal band, but this French horde sound like they could have been cooked up in a lab just for aQ. Heavy and fuzzed out, psychedelic and weird as fuck, melodic and sorrowful, abstract and all over the map, within the first minute you'll know exactly what we mean, starting out with this strange little snippet of exotica, that sounds a bit like that cursed idol theme from the Brady Bunch Hawaii movie, the intro becomes this warped soundtrack, all fluttery flutes and strange glitches, we would have been perfectly happy to have a whole record of that, but instead, Murmuure launch into some sort of twisted abstract avant black metal, that is pretty difficult to describe. The sound is echoey and blown out, the riffs aren't traditionally buzzy and black, they're more gnarled and warped and woozy, layered into heaving swells of blackened sound, and shot through with streaks of twisted melody, the drums totally chaotic, slipping from totally free, to stumbling dirge, the vocals are buried and barely there, there also seems to be all sorts of synth stuff happening, wheezing swatch of washed out chordal whir, as well as crunchy buzzing low end thrum. After a brief melodic interlude, the tape seems to crumble into a woozy circusy dronescape, all stuttering looped sounds, melancholy melodies, lots of hiss and crackle, and then those drums come in again, super loud, and weirdly produced, adding some structure to the whirling black cloud of twisted sound. Like some demented synth driven lo-fi black metal take on Godspeed but run through a whole bank of malfunctioning effects, not to mention the twisted mind(s) that conjured up these alien sounds.
Some of the tracks get downright shoegazey, all washed out and shimmery, the delicate melodies drifting through clouds of muted crunch, laced with an M83 style retro electronic haze, the drums driving this weird black pop into even further reaches of the know black metal universe, one moment it sounds like blackened Cocteau Twins, the next like some post rock band covering Abruptum as covered by Alcest, there are field recordings, long stretches of spaced out collaged soundscapes, but everything is woven together into a single multi movement gloriously blissed out, post black metal psychedelic drone drenched drift, and is just about the weirdest and coolest black metal record we've heard in FOREVER.
Here's one possible reason that this record sounds nothing like most black metal, according to the band:
"All the Murmuure material is based on a one hour guitar improvisation from November 2006. The selected parts were then further edited to fit a rhythmic structure, and merged with additional layers of sound. The percussions are a mixture of the original programmed drums, and some (extremely re-edited) additional live drumming. Vocals were recorded during a cathartic trance at a sacred place in the forest, with a mini-disc recorder. Being almost inaudible in the music, they're strictly conceived as a vocal sigil technique, a vehicle for intent."
Awesome. The sound is dizzying and confusional and so original, hell, if this were not a cassette, and not already out of print, this would be some serious Record Of The Week material for sure. But it is just a tape, and these are the LAST COPIES, saved just for us, and you, but fear not, we got a whole bunch, but considering how awesome, and awesomely fucked up this is, you still oughtta grab one of these quick, cuz without a doubt, this is our black metal record of the year!
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES. ALREADY OUT OF PRINT. WE HAVE THE VERY LAST OF THESE TAPES!!!
Within the last few years we have witnessed Chicago's Nachtmystium evolve from a grim exercise in nihilistic, kvlt as fuck black metal to a group that seems to be completely ignoring the accepted rules of the genre and pretty much surpassing all the competition. It would be flat out stupid to deny the blackness on display here, and yet it is so much more than just a black metal album. We've always loved Blake Judd and his cohorts (featuring here, in addition to long time guitarist Jeff Wilson and synth lord Sanford Parker, Will Lindsay of Wolves In The Throne Room and the incomparable Wrest of Leviathan on drums) but with the release of Addicts: Black Meddle Pt.2, it is now abundantly clear that they are one of the best metal bands in operation. The songs venture all over the place, never failing to surprise with their unique structures and brutal instrumentation, and the greatest success here is the fact that these are, get ready: some of the catchiest, blackest, and most psychedelic POP SONGS we have heard in forever. This album is just as amazing as the recent Twilight record, and not surprisingly, three of the players had a hand in that as well. And while Twilight caused some jaws to drop with things like emo breakdowns and beautiful choral vocals, the sick minds in Nachtmystium have found even more ways to astonish. Oh, and it's a bit of a concept album about, you guessed it, the fun and timeless subject of drug addiction.
Beginning with intro "Cry For Help", in which creepy, guttural voices spell out a negative statement (we won't ruin it for you) that sets the tone for the album over echoed drumbeats, the band then kicks into "High On Hate", a thick whirlwind of classic black metal riffs flying around some darkened vortex. It's melodic and catchy, but also terrifying and uncompromising, and Judd's vocals are as killer and harsh as always. It's surprising how many interesting ideas Nachtmystium is capable of injecting (ha!) into their songs, which take you on a crazy black metal journey in generally 5 minutes or less. Nothing here is formulaic, especially the next number, "Nightfall". Your first reaction will be along the lines of, "Holy fuck! Is that a tambourine?" It is, and by the end of the song Nachtmystium has also thrown in an awesome woah-woah gang vocals (wonder if they're Naked Raygun fans, being from Chicago and all) and a giant classic rock guitar solo. You may wonder where they can take things next, but then they hit you with the biggest mindfuck on the album, "No Funeral", which will be described as "new wave black metal" until a better term comes to light. The song is carried by Parker's spacey synth melody and a heavy industrial dance beat that is so damn poppy we kinda can't believe it. There's some mind altering progginess on display, like on "Blood Trance Fusion," but thankfully things never get too academic or concerned with shit like time signatures. Instead, synths squiggle like parasites worming through your veins and blast beats jolt you out of your trance as the band holds things down like it's what they were born to do. "Ruined Life Continuum" resurrects the, um, new wave black metal we heard earlier, another too catchy to ignore number, before ending on a suitably bleak note with "Every Last Drop", where acoustic guitars and throat singing are consumed by a lumbering dirge and some soaring clean vocals courtesy of Yakuza's Bruce Lamont. When the sounds of an oscillating synth note bring Addicts to a close, you will probably be just as blown away as we were.
So yeah, once again, these guys have furthered the cause and raised the bar higher for anyone who thinks they are up for the task of making black metal in 2010 and beyond. If there's a Part 3 in the works, we're down for it, if not, we can't wait to see what Nachtmystium cooks up next.
