Woah. Just when you thought all the "long lost" bands have already been unearthed, something like this comes along and knocks you flat on your ass. Most of us first read about Angel Face in a great article in Ugly Things a few issues back. Other than that and a piece on the band on Julian Cope's Head Heritage site, the only other meager info that we could find about these guys was in French. Which makes sense, as Angel Face were indeed French. The band's confusing history began in 1974 with the core lineup of the Regoli brothers, Pascal (bass) and Julian (guitar), as well as one Riton Angel Face on guitar. Their biggest inspiration is undoubtedly the Stooges, but unlike every other band to rip off Ann Arbor's finest, Angel Face were in fact swimming in the same primordial waters as their heroes. It makes sense to assume that these guys probably dug "L.A. Blues" and "We Will Fall" as much as any of the Stooges' tunes, because Angel Face clearly understood that "heavy" isn't just about volume and power chords (not that those aren't here in spades), but also about pure noise and total chaos. In addition to this, one can detect a considerable Hawkwind influence, as well as heavy doses of krautrock. While other bands at this time were more likely to incorporate the latest sounds of punk's first wave, Angel Face kept things sounding firmly pre-1977. The end results are pretty mindblowing, tense and aggressive pieces that lock into a groove and pound the hell out of it for the entirety of the song with guitars that sound like sonic flamethrowers. Trying to piece together a timeline here is quite difficult (the liner notes are in French), and the band never even released anything in their lifetime, so what you have here on the first disc are demos and live tracks from sometime between 1975 and 1978 (originally released in 1984 on lp as A Wild Odyssey), strung together to form one surprisingly cohesive whole. We're pretty sure the first tracks feature the singer named Eric Tendz, who was described by the other band members as nothing more than a disreputable Iggy clone. And yes, there will be no mistaking Iggy's influence, but Tendz delivers things so perfectly and frantically that we can't complain one bit. His vocals are often punctuated by shrill little shrieks which seem humanly impossible, and his drunk sounding delivery makes it impossible to tell what language he's singing in (though we think it's English). Other tracks on the first disc are comprised of live recordings which predate the Tendz songs, pieced together in a very Faust-ian way with the band's preferred vocalist Henri Flesh (again, we think). These songs are more loose and unhinged, no doubt due to the guitar prowess of Julian Regoli, whose early presence in the band kept things psychedelic to the highest order. There are also a few tracks that feature just Riton Angel Face and Pascal, on guitar/vocals and synth, respectively. While stripped to their bare essence, these songs come off as strangely powerful and complete sounding. One can only wonder what possibilities might have existed for this amazing band. Unfortunately, there was little working in their favor, and it is easy to imagine scores of idiot punk rockers not knowing what to make of a band of long haired guys with aviator sunglasses.
The story didn't end there, however, and in the '80s Angel Face reformed under the leadership of Riton and Pascal. The biggest change was the decision to add a female vocalist, Kim Nguyen. Truthfully, these songs are a bit of a letdown after the pure rock n' roll fury of the first disc, but mainly in comparison. The songs are pretty good, but just a little more straightforward, and the '80s production certainly doesn't help anything. Likewise, disc 3 is made up of some shoddily recorded live tracks and radio stuff from different eras. Some of this stuff appears to be from the first era and is quite good, but the songs don't benefit from the unfortunate sound quality.
So, you have no doubt noticed the hefty price tag on this beast, and we realize the above paragraph may hold some people back.... BUT we seriously can't recommend the stuff on disc 1 enough, for folks into the likes of Soggy (anther long lost French band of Stooges worshippers) and of course The Stooges themselves. Check out the first four sound clips to see what we mean, and just keep in mind only 1,000 of these were pressed up - and of the dozen we ordered, we've already sold 10 on account of "tweeting" about it, so right now we've got 2, yes TWO - and we may not be seeing them again any time soon...
We've heard tell that legions of Arcade Fire fans new and old have already been gobbling up this release whole, and it's easy to hear why. It's a fantastic follow-up to 2007's Neon Bible, and such an eagerly anticipated album that it probably doesn't even need any announcement!
Get behind the wheel of this ride through The Arcade Fire's Suburbs, and you'll find it starts out in relatively sedate fashion, gently warming up the musical engines with the lush baroque pop we all know and love, but it doesn't take the band long to rev things up 'til they're cruising at full speed with the top down! As always, these Canadians are a bit difficult to define, still drawing plenty of influence from familiar (and often oddly mainstream) pop elements of the '80s and '90s, and integrating them into their own presentation. It's a strangely cohesive coming together of varied sounds, personalities and inspirations that glints with shades of such eclectic, clever and dramatic forefathers as David Bowie, Pulp, Meatloaf, My Bloody Valentine, and Robyn Hitchcock. At times they're a bit brainy, at others more than a bit bombastic. Add some shoegazin', cabaret melodrama and art school chin scratching, and you might think you have a recipe for disaster. However, they seldom falter, always delivering epically arranged and gloriously produced songs to our ears. A few of them in particular stood out on our first few listens... "Suburban War" has gently swooping melodies that totally push the wistful sentimental buttons; "Modern Man" takes a few jaunty twists and subdued yearning tones that bring to mind their contemporaries Spoon (actually fans of that band might find themselves diggin' a lot more than just this one tune!); while the surprisingly almost punky edgy oomph of "Month Of May" will surely get you on your feet doing the same dance that Molly Ringwald does in Breakfast Club to Karla DeVito's "We Are Not Alone". Alrighty, are you with us?! (Not sure why the vinyl version has to be so pricey, it seems like a trend these days...)
We've never carried anything from Winds Measure Recordings before now; but that will certainly be changing, as this is a label with an excellent ear for the finer points of dronesmear sound-art and an equally excellent eye for letterpressed packaging. And we'll start with the stellar manipulated field recording work from the Swiss-born / Berlin-based sound artist Gilles Aubry, who seems to have run a space in Berlin dedicated to experimental music called Stralau 68. The space had unfortunately closed in 2007, but it seemed to have been a nexus of activity for noise, aktionism, avant-rock, live-wire electronics, and whatnot. Perhaps as a final act within the emptied space, Aubry recorded the resonance of the room, capturing all sorts of resonant drones, tones, hums, and buzzes intrinsic to the space outside of its former use as a performance venue. The first of three pieces on this album centers on the rasping frequencies from the industrial air vents matching wind-blown recordings from within what sounds like a huge concrete structure. Here Aubry's work attains the acousmatic aesthetic that the finest Francisco Lopez pieces of minimalism seek. The second piece is far more dynamic, with thrumming rumble grounding an interwoven drone of pierced frequencies and jarring movements from creaking metal doors, bellowing hisses of infernal air, and scrabbling textures. It's unsettled and ominous, something of a hybrid between the end-times collages of Tarab and the late period bleakness of Lustmord. The final piece continues with the scraped abrasions and elongated drones of toxic environmental frequencies. Absolutely brilliant stuff!
As we mentioned, Winds Measure's packaging is a thing of beauty, here with an elegant folio of letterpressed text on thick white paper with a set of abstracted smears printed precisely in a pale pale grey. Some of the finer letterpressed work we've seen! Put it all together in a small edition of just about 300 copies. Highly recommended!
It's tough to ignore talk of a 'Portishead side project', and it's even tougher to imagine what that project might sound like. Thankfully no need to wonder, it's called Beak> (and yeah, that little beak shape is part of the name), and it's a trio fronted by Portishead mastermind Geoff Barrow, but don't be expecting Portishead 2, there are some similarities, but it's mostly tone and vibe, the music is something else entirely, more krautrock, minimal, space-y, hints of Stereolab (which is basically krautrock when you think about it). Recorded live, with no overdubs, the arrangements were created using edits, so one can imagine these guys jamming out on single parts, and then later chopping them up and assembling them into songs. Which helps explain why the sound of Beak> is so hypnotic and looped and cyclical sounding. Stereolab obviously, but also Circle, Cave, a definite hypnorock / krautrock thing going on. The drumming super simple and motorik, the bass driving the whole thing, and the synths offering up the melody, usually locking into whirling swirling loops over the top. The band get into long stretches of hushed almost nothing, whispery drifts of softly pulsing drone, but invariably the shift gears and launch into another loping hypnotic dubby rhythm, and with all this talk of rhythm, you can bet there are lots of moments that reminds us of This Heat, which is NEVER a bad thing. There are vocals too, but they're minimal, and are often in the background, wordless croons, adding just another layer of texture to the proceedings. Fourtet, Tortoise, Add N To (X), Fridge, Necks, even some of the modern spacerock stuff like Wooden Shjips, that sort of endlessly looping dronerock, Beak> would definitely hit the spot if you dig any or all of that.
This record is super addictive, we threw it on when it first came in, and we ended up listening to it 3 times in a row, and ever since, we find ourselves throwing it on all the time, which says a lot. Definitely a new fave!
With a name like Bitchin Bajas you would expect some bratty lo-fi garage pop or ironic washed out rock, but sometimes the name and the sound can exist in two entirely different worlds, and with Bitchin Bajas that's probably for the best. The solo project of Cooper Crane from Cave, we first got a glimpse of Bitchin Bajas on their split 7" with Moon Duo, but it's on this full length that he really pushes his sound to such spaced out cosmic outer limits. While Cave have become masterful at their ability to create rhythmic and propulsive kraut like jams, with Bitchin Bajas, Cooper is taking his aim at the more spaced out side of kosmische bliss. Evoking the kraut-drone / kraut-age of Klaus Schulze, Tangerine Dream, Deutsche Wertarbeit, Cluster as well as Terry Riley's A Rainbow In Curved Air, this is such a perfect early morning sunrise salute of a record. Tones / Zones also reaches the level to which modern day cosmic travelers like Arp, White Rainbow, Emeralds and Oneohtrix Point Never have ascended. The sounds here get locked in the most celestial grooves and you find yourself floating into the sky losing any sense of gravity or the mundane reality of everyday life. This is perfect music for dreaming, drifting and softly coming down. Majestic and so satisfying.
We first heard Lo Borges as singer and songwriter on the mighty Clube Da Esquina, Milton Nascimento's 1972 epic double record, we listed awhile back. That record has been a consistently steady seller since we listed it, and with good reason, it's incredible! But while Nascimento and Borges actually collaborated together on much of it, it's mostly regarded as a Nascimento record. So it's great to see Lo Borge's self titled debut solo album from the same year finally reissued by the Water label, to shine a much deserved spotlight on this underrated artist. And we have to say, it's equally as incredible and essential as Clube De Esquina, Eduardo Mateo's Mateo Solo Bien Se Lame, Caetano Veloso's Transa, or Gilberto Gil's Cerebro Electronico! With a nod to the cover art, those are big shoes indeed!
Recorded when he was just entering his twenties, the scope of artistry on display seems to be by someone so much more experienced. Not only is Borges at the top of his game as a singer and songwriter, but the arrangements and musicianship are just as dazzling. Most of the songs barely squeak over the two minute mark, but he packs so many ideas into a song without losing its central focus and at the same time giving everything lots of space. Here and there a string section drops in and out, a flurry of baroque piano, soaring flutes, a jazzy organ swell, searing electric guitar, hints of electronic psychedelic washes. At times romantic and mysterious, other times more urgent with rhythms picking up and slowing down in tempo to evoke a wide range of emotive qualities. This is a record we'll probably be playing all summer long. We can't recommend it enough!
Paradigms continues to expand their sonic scope, while continuing to champion awesome and obscure heaviness. A look at past Paradigms releases reads like a list of aQ faves: The Angelic Process, Decrepit Spectre, Fog In The Shell, Gnaw Their Tongues, Hjarnidaudi, Wraiths, Woburn House, Ondo, Titan, Throne Of Katarsis, Utlagr and more, and the oddly monickered Bosnia fit right in. Hailing from Denver Colorado, this trio specialize in filthy, downtuned blackened doom crust, equal parts, Neurosis, His Hero Is Gone and other purveyors of gritty doomic filth, but these guys also inject some serious blackness into their crush and pummel. Woozy clean guitar parts wrap around tribal drumming, before launching into a lurching sprawl of blown out doom-ed black buzz, the vocals a monstrous guttural howl, the arrangements complex and a bit mathy, with stretches of lumbering chug bookending chunks of funereal slow motion crawl, leading straight into awesomely tangled obtuse melodic breakdowns, before exploding into raw feral bursts of punkish blackened pound.
Bosnia might be a bit too punk for the more troo grim metal hordes, but folks who dig shit like Kylesa, Baroness, Minsk, Damad and even sludgier shit like Eyehategod and the like, will probably dig this BIG time.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
We were hugely obsessed with Silkworm back in the day. Their sound was dark and mysterious, a twisted and bitter take on indie rock, that somehow managed to evoke an impossible hopefulness at the same time. Super melodic, 3 of the 4 members sang, each with a distinctive style and sound, which only helped make their music more interesting. Joel Phelps, perhaps our favorite voice of the bunch, left, and the band sadly seemed to flounder. Then tragically, their drummer was killed in an automobile accident, and Silkworm was over.
Tim Midgett and Andy Cohen, the core of the original Silkworm lineup, reunited and returned with Bottomless Pit, which to our ears sounded like a return to the classic Silkworm sound, still dark, and depressive, brooding and melancholy, but the songs were so good, tense and dramatic and crazy catchy, with the spirit and feel of classic nineties indie rock, but dragged into the now. That first record was on seriously heavy rotation around here, spacey and spare, warm and lush, totally fantastic and a surprising return to form.
And now we have Blood Under The Bridge, which offers more of the same, dark and haunting stripped down indie rock. Someone here thought it sounded like Belle And Sebastian, but to our ears it sounds like a heavier My Dad Is Dead, the same sort of world weary, minor key, broken hearted indie rock. The first few tracks slither and creep, hushed and minimal and way moody, but then comes "Summerwind" that is surprisingly rocking, and sounds like it could have been yanked off one of the classic old Silkworm records, and the vibe and the energy stays relatively charged after that. "Late is another slow burning rocker, with some gorgeous vocal melodies, and some awesome psych guitar, "Dixon" alternately pounds and broods, with an almost surfy sounding main riff, but then "Kiss Them All" brings it back down again, a gorgeous low slung pretty indie pop drifter, that sounds as good as anything these guys have done.
The last three tracks bounce back and forth between energetic crunch, spacey contemplative drift, and driving grooves, finishing off with the epic emotional catharsis of "38 Souls" that feels just like the old days.
Along with the Versus record reviewed elsewhere on this week's list, a sweet dose of classic indie rock, the kind they don't really make anymore (except when it's made by the guys and gals who were making it the first time around anyway!)...
Hadn't heard this jitterbuggin' Norwegian bunch before, though they have a previous album on Rune Grammofon and one before that as well. Definitely gonna have to track down those too, 'cause this one is pretty great, if you're into avant rock/jazz instrumental rippage. At peak power, they're QUITE energetic and frenzied, but unfailingly musical too, and the disc has much in the way of moodier, mellower moments as well.
Bushman's Revenge are a trio of electric guitar, bass, and drums, with a cameo appearance on two tracks here by organist Stale Storlokken of Supersilent. The guitarist is also a member of the proggy and metallic "blackjazz" group Shining. Which maybe explains why this is often so much heavier and rockier than most quote unquote fusion, and also why they do a Motorhead cover ("Damage Case" from Overkill done as an instrumental, or what they call a "Happy Go Lucky Karaoke Version", which stomps along exuberantly with a full-on freakout in the mid-section). Elsewhere, they veer from tangled and distorted guitar onslaughts to stately melodic reveries... and even play some deviant blues ("While My Guitar Gently Breaks"). Bushman's Revenge are for fans of other Rune G "fusion" like Scorch Trio for sure, and also we'd recommend 'em folks partial to Nels Cline.
We first discovered Colorado drone bliss pop-gaze duo Candy Claws via their last record, In The Dream Of Sea Life, a gorgeous collection of sounds and songs composed and recorded to sound as if they were in fact at the bottom of the ocean, warped and woozy, dark and aquatic, but for this new record, Hidden Lands brings the sounds of CC to the surface, lets them breathe, sprawl and blossom. Apparently based on a book called The Secret Life Of The Forest, these songs are meant to evoke all manner of 'secret lands', the worlds inside living creatures, the Earth millions of years before humans, all of the things that have gone on and still go on that we don't yet understand or can't yet observe. Pretty heavy, but fear not, the music is light in comparison, a washed out psychedelic dream pop, a little orchestral, a lot Elephant 6, chiming guitars, buried angelic voices, simple percussion, lush synths and singing strings, a sort of power pop blurred into something much more ambient and ethereal, there are hints of Neutral Milk Hotel, Beach Boys, Jellyfish, but in keeping with the science angle, it's like CC took scrapings from those bands and grew Hidden Lands in a petri dish, only to then plant the resulting lifeforms in the garden outside, in the shade of big oak trees, at the foot of some snow capped mountains, and then recorded the various growths, a hazy, slowly expanding sun dappled shimmer drenched fragmented pop. In some ways, the underwater element of the last record still feels present, it's like listening to jangly indie pop, broadcast through a hydrophone, the vibrations traveling through the water, and arriving at our ears, bent and twisted and beautifully warped. A little carnivalesque, a little psychedelic, a little shoegazey, this is some sort of otherworldly impressionistic pop, there may be hooks, and verses and choruses, but they're blurred and smeared and muted and mixed, the song structures seems to have come unglued at a fundamental level, allowing this dreampop to become even dreamier. So fantastic. And totally recommended for anyone into woozy, hazy, droney, dreamy blisspop.
Only got a little handful of these. 150 copies total, already out of print and we have less than 10. Latest bit of ultra minimal bliss out dronemusic from Cantu, he of Tarentel, the Alps and the mighty Root Strata label. On Bloodstream Sermon, Cantu creates softly billowing stretches of lush shimmer, using only a Roland Juno 60 synth, a pure wave oscillator and a handful of electronics, each of the two tracks gorgeous and hazy and warm, soft swells of dreamlike sound, constantly shifting tones and overtones, utterly tranquil and hypnotic, the first side much more dense and layered, a thick undulating sprawl of deeeeeep tones. While the second side/track is more abstract, a bit more whir and glitch, ambient and almost industrial sounding. A blurred symphony of muted machine-like buzz and rumble, peppered with little glimmers of glitch, all wrapped in a gauzy patina of washed out thrum. So lovely.
When we first discovered mysterious Northwestern black metal outfit Velvet Cacoon, it wasn't just their blown out buzz that had us enraptured, it was all the rumors and weird stories about the band itself, that they were some sort of eco-fascists, who had built a huge gasoline-driven HARP which was responsible for their massive buzz. We later discovered that the whole eco-fascist / droneharp thing was a ruse, a put on, the band intentionally fucking with what they considered to be a contemptible black metal scene. It was then revealed that Velvet Cacoon were in fact a couple of drug obsessed dandies, who when they weren't crafting some of the most stunning black metal weirdness, were waxing about the various drugs they took, and their decadent lifestyle. But all that stuff only made them more interesting, and gave the sound a certain twisted cachet, coming as it did from these unlikely creators.
As it happened, the band got fed up with the drama and the internet message board bullshit, and decided to scrap Velvet Cacoon entirely and start fresh. A new band, a new name and a new sound. Thus we have Clair Cassis, whose sound really is not all that far removed from the washed out black buzz of VC, but does distinguish itself in some important ways. The first being the song length. The band described CC in an interview as being a more pop Velvet Cacoon, and so it is, the shortest song is under 3 minutes, the longest just less than 7, the band forcing themselves to be more succinct, to move through their musical ideas in a more structured and less unhindered way, instead of letting songs and parts drone on and on. Not that we minded before, in fact, we like it when our black metal drones and buzzes endlessly, but there's something to be said for the opposite approach, which tends to force the write to craft SONGS more than SOUNDS. The other big difference is the bass. And with that the above mentioned pop element. The lack of bass in black metal is practically a running joke, the brittle buzz and furious blasting of most black metal generally relegating bass to a barely there buzz, so when a black metal band takes the bass, and makes it as much a part of the sound as the guitar, it changes the whole shape of the sound, in the case of Clair Cassis, gives it a sort of woozy, gothic, cold wave vibe, black metal is dour and depressive by its very nature, but here it's gloomy and haunting, an emotional sort of darkness and depression.
This new sound/direction is immediately noticeable on opener "Ambercandle" which begins all warped and woozy, the riffs twisted and seemingly melting over the pounding doomy drums, when the track finally kicks into gear, the bass drives the songs, thick and dense, the notes slippery, haunting gloomy low end swells that add some pathos to the already loping minor key dirge, besides that it makes the sound so much heavier. Even on the next track, "The Feathered Fog" which begins with a somewhat standard burst of blackness, droney and relentless, still the bass is there adding heft, and a melodic counterpoint to the frenzied riffage, and then when the song switches gear, lurches into halftime, the bass swoops right to the front and the song transforms into a woozy seasick dirge.
And as you listen, the record definitely reveals itself as more than buzzing black metal, and knowing what we do about the folks behind it, it's not hard to imagine them creating this otherworldly pop music, and simply choosing to cloak it in black metal finery, which definitely explains the catchiness, the heavy bass and buried grooves, but it's probably best to not analyze it too much. A casual glancing listen will definitely provide plenty of black metal pleasure, the guitars are thick and gnarled, the drumming (real this time it sounds like) heavy and blasting, the arrangements trancelike and hypnotic, with long stretches of deep shimmering drone music, as well as plenty of pounding doomic dirgery, Velvet Cacoon fans won't be disappointed, but digging deeper reveals all the other subtle sonic alterations that make Clair Cassis simultaneously much more accessible, but also even weirder than VC. The songs may be shorter, but they're no less complex and convoluted, in fact in some ways, they're even more, considering parts don't drone on, the band flits from part to part, from blast to plod to drift to blast again.
"Pearls & Pinesmoke" is another standout, a soaring blasting droner, thick with bass rumble and throb, grim enough, the drums a little loose and chaotic, the vocals a creepy croak, and then the breakdown comes, and it's total melodic black nirvana, half tempo, the guitar still buzzy, but the bass unfurling an insanely melodic and ridiculously catchy part, that totally transforms the song, and then the sound shifts again back to blasting buzz, somehow the bass remains, adding unlikely melody to even the blackest bits, and fear not, a part that good comes back again, fans of Alcest and Amesoeurs will be in heaven. And after a strange interlude, the track shifts again, into another woozy, differently melodic dirge, laced with more melodic bass, but this time wrapped around spidery acoustic guitars, all still wreathed in crumbling buzz.
Finally the record finishes with the awesomely titled "Hazelhearted In The Seaparlour", which explodes immediately into a dense churning blast, heavy and harsh and layered, with a strange midtempo bridge/chorus, that features a strangely bouncy, and again surprisingly melodic bassline, way up in the mix, changing the focus of the song, before dropping out again and letting the guitars take over, before the track finally fades out, leaving nothing but the wheezing strains of what almost sounds like elevator music, or the music they play in the middle of the night at outside malls, the sound here replete with random bits of found sound, footsteps and other curious ambience.
And just leave it to the fickle folks who disbanded Velvet Cacoon at the height of their popularity to nip their new band in the bud as well, which apparently is exactly what happened. Clair Cassis is no more. But what a way to go. There is a second record floating around, who knows if it will ever get properly released, but for now, this one is not surprisingly shaping up to be a serious contender for black metal record of the year!
Lassitude is the very first release from the just launched UK label Lone Vigil, and is the debut of black industrial post metal doomlords Cloaca. Both the label and the band are fronted by Chris Naughton, he of doomsludge masters Atavist and neo pagan black metallers Winterfylleth, but Cloaca is a whole different beast than either of those two outfits, and while most descriptions peg Cloaca as 'experimental industrial doom', that might be a bit misleading. It might have you picturing a churning avant Godflesh or some sort of machinelike downtuned Swans, when in fact, the sound of Cloaca is much more organic, and much closer to the slow build post metal of groups like Pelican, Neurosis, Cult Of Luna, Snowblood, and Isis, the guitars lush and warm, the songs sprawling epics, with spiralling melodies, and dense tribal drumming, brooding and majestic, like a blackened Godspeed, building to explosive howled churning ultra metal blow outs, that transform into roiling chugging grooves, heavy and motorik and mesmerizing.
The songs spend much of their time drifting dreamily, spidery guitar melodies draped over loping post rock rhythms, and when they do get heavy, it's not always explosive crescendos, the band can lock into a riff and ride it out like some sort of black doom post metal Hawkwind, extended psychedelic cosmic metal jams that destroy, heaving hypnotically, thick sonic swells that churn and roil and eventually do explode into some serious heaviness, but it's not just big chords there either, the band get super dense and complex, start stop rhythms, mathy arrangements, thick and convoluted and so so heavy.
Throughout the record, Cloaca deftly flit from moody drift to soaring majesty, to metallic crush, wrapping impossibly hooky melodies and strange disembodied sampled voices around thick slabs of metallic hypnorock, a sound that's definitely hard to make your own, but these guys have definitely staked their claim on this chunk of epic brooding heaviness, that we would imagine few would be able to challenge.
Definitely essential listening for fans of Rosetta, Baroness, the Body, Grails, The Ocean, Angel Eyes, Tides, Souvenir's Young America, Mouth Of The Architect, Irepress, Indian, Conifer and other post metal alchemists...
With only a single cassette release to her name, Mira Cook has already become one of our favorite delicate, hypnotic and entrancing music makers of the last few years. We've been lucky to get to see her play around town so much, each time watching as she adds a new self taught instrument to the mix, as she creates songs that are really like these miniature fairy tales of the everyday. Her cassette only release, was one of our best selling tapes of 2009, and for good reason. It introduced us to her unique, inviting and warm sensual world of sound. Signs contains some reworked versions of songs that appeared on the cassette along with a bunch of brand new tracks. Using loops as a way to create endless entrancing melody, and taking so sweetly to everything from dulcimer, to drum machines, to piano, to organ, etc., it's Mira's assured and captivating voice that transports us so utterly and completely. It's hard not to think about people like Joanna Newsom, Juana Molina and Bjork, as there is that same kind of unique vision, charm and golden presence in Cook's songs. We're also reminded a lot of that a capella record that Petra Haden made covering The Who's Sell Out. Like the musical equivalent of a Joseph Cornell box, every song on Signs is filled with such unique treasures!
The second we lay the needle on the clear vinyl of this 45, it's like the most sensual, seductive steam just comes pouring out of the speakers and takes us to a dark lit, after hours nightclub made for coming down softly, a sonic soundtrack for chilling out in the most striking and sexy way imaginable. We fell so hard for the first Cosmetics 7" and it's been impossible to get it back in stock so we're happy to have two brand new songs to get hooked on all over again. As hot and seductive as the Chromatics are, somehow Cosmetics roam in a very similar territory but turn up the heat, with a dark dripping potency that washes through our bodies with a sound so pleasing and yet still slightly sinister. Taking cues from synth wave seducers like Ruth, Dark Day, and Liaisons Dangereuses. Not sure how fast we will be able to get more of these so best act fast on this one!
It's the middle of summer (although it doesn't feel like it here) and it seems like everyone is still trying to come up with THEE Summer Jam of the year. Wavves, with their recent King Of The Beach record, had been battling it out with Best Coast, and their hazy girl group fuzz drenched Crazy For You, for the top spot, but now here come Crocodiles, with two songs that could definitely give both a run for their money.
Unlike the rest of the current crop of garage poppers, Crocodiles haven't been churning out a 7" a month, instead, laying pretty low since their awesome Summer Of Hate record a while back (minus a recent 4 way split), but "Sleep Forever" immediately reminds us why we dug them so much in the first place, with a big fuzzy slab of sunshiney pop, that owes as much to their current fuzz pop brethren as it does to classic Britpop, a perfect fusion of earnest buzzing jangle, and soaring psychedelic classic pop. "Sleep Forever" could easily be some long lost gem from the golden era of Britpop, maybe some rare unsung B-side, if it weren't for the fact that had this been from back in the day, it would have been anything but a B-side. And as if one blast of perfect psychpop bliss wasn't enough, the flipside finds the band tackling a VERY unlikely cover, Dee-lite's "Groove Is In The Heart", starting with that immediately recognizable bassline, but before you know it, the song is transformed into a total drugged out Spacemen 3 style blowout, complete with squalls of wild tangled psych guitar crunch and fuzzgarage organs, and then before you know it, the song transforms into the Beach Boys' "California Girls", THAT classic melody wrapped around that buzzing Dee-lite bassline, and the swirling blown out organ. AWESOME.
Disintegration is one of those albums, that pretty much all of us can distinctly remember when it first entered our lives and how much it impacted us then. Some of us were in college, some in high school, some in junior high, and it was one of those records that became such an integral part of our existence. It was yearning, and heartbreak, and sadness, and the most romantic kind of doom and gloom. It still stands as one of our favorite Cure albums, so we were super excited for it to get a deluxe expanded reissue, complete with two extra discs of music.
We probably don't need to talk much about the proper album itself as it's a classic, but the bonus stuff totally makes this worth buying again! The second disc is a collection of instrumental demos and rehearsal takes and the third disc is the 1989 live record Entreat Plus. But it's that second disc that really does it for us, the raw demos are just so damn good and beyond relevant to the current avalanche of lo-fi '80s-obsessed warped music makers. You could just imagine folks like John Maus, Blank Dogs, Gary War, etc. drooling with envy at the sound of those way stripped down untouched bedroom demos. And ultimately that's what they are, many of them recordings of just Robert Smith alone in his bedroom putting to tape the earliest incarnations of these classic songs.
Feels so nice to get to have a new moment with Disintegration, as it will always be one of those records that takes each of us to a special moment in our lives, when it was our soundtrack, one of many records that would play a huge part in determining out musical tastes, even to this day, and the demos are just further proof of what a lasting legacy and impact The Cure at their prime has had on us and so much of the music we love.
This issue's cover belongs to The Refused, whose hardcore masterpiece The Shape Of Punk To Come is inducted into Decibel's album hall of fame. Kinda cool to see a glossy magazine put something on the cover that isn't a new release a label is trying to hype or whatever - The Refused broke up years ago, that record is from 1998. Also inside, this ish: The Sword, Decrepit Birth, Zoroaster, Kylesa, Sigh's Dr. Mikannnibal (talking about her day job as an experimental physicist!), Xasthur, Aaron Turner discussing the end of Isis, and more. Including the usual funny columns and lots of reviews. And one other feature that ought to have been really cool, but now is super sad, the "Streetwise San Francisco" article wherein Cosmo Lee from the Invisible Oranges blog is shown around SF by some local metal folks, members of Ludicra and Hammers Of Misfortune among others, they visit such landmarks as Vesuvio bar in North Beach, El Farolito taqueria here in the Mission, The Hemlock Tavern, and yes Aquarius Records! Which is neat, except for the sad part - one of the tour guides, pictured looking through the bins here at AQ in the article, was Makh Daniels from the band Early Graves, whom you may have heard was tragically was killed in a van accident on tour, not long after these photos were taken. R.I.P.
Pakt is a harrowing, abject experiment in doom-ed blackness, the debut from this Norwegian duo, who weave a suffocating expanse of dense layered blackness, a dizzying hybrid of blacknoize, dark hypnotic dronemusic, and funereal doom. But even as a strange hybridized bit of sonic experimentalism, Pakt still stands out as one of the coolest, weirdest records we've heard.
The opening track lays it all out, the dark chaotic crunch, the pulsing throbbing blackness, the strange, seemingly out of place melodicism, from the first few minutes, a strange sound like an approaching train, distant reverbed vocals, a slow build to a sort of post industrial black drift, the chug of the 'train', overtaken by another layer of buzz, that sounds more like a helicopter than any sort of instrument, then in comes some achingly mournful minimal minor key melodies, while that helicopter sound, becomes an almost riff-like pulse, and coalesces into thick syrupy SUNN-y sludge, before slipping right back into that pulsing chug, this time accompanied by crooned clean, high vocals, almost like a pop song set amidst all the roiling blackness, a strange mix for sure, but it works, creating a sort of dour black industrial pop.
The rest of the record is equally as striking, spreading out swaths of coruscating feedback, over deep tectonic rumbles, letting the sounds build into undulating sheets of doomgaze, before becoming a proper slabs of glacial doom, tamping down thick buzzing riffage into hushed, blurred downtuned shimmer, laced with field recordings, disembodied processed voices, buried melodies, creaking machinelike percussion, simple strummed acoustic guitars, butted up against massive squalls of blackpsych guitarnoise, 16 rpm riffage gradually slowing down and easing into brooding Godspeed style slow build post rock, or exploding into brief flares of Nadja like doomdronedirge, but seemingly always settling back into something darker and hauntingly tranquil. Awesome stuff. Most definitely for fans of Nadja, SUNNO))), Troum, Skullflower, To Blacken The Pages, Robedoor, Bong, Have A Nice Life, Fear Falls Burning, Marzuraan, Snowblood and other purveyors of avant blackness, brooding post metal, and all things slow, low, heavy and blackened.
Features super striking red and black Justin Bartlett artwork...
Here's some seriously warm, wobbly, surfy, tropical sounding lo-fi gems that have totally captured our attention! Dripping with such melty, melodic yet slightly tripped out perfection. Ducktails had a lot going for it before we even heard the music, the name obviously (!), the great cover art by Jan Anderzen (Kemialliset Ystavat) and the fact that it was mastered by Graham Lambkin of The Shadow Ring already lead us to believe there might be some kind of magic being brewed under the colorful, inviting cover, so we threw this on the stereo right away and it's been beyond the perfect soundtrack for the bright and sizzling sunshine days we've been baking in for the last couple weeks. Ducktails is the work of one person, Matt Mondanile who has found such a unique sound, melding elements of the lo-fi pop movement that came out of New Zealand in the '80s with a tropical undertone and wandering spirit that sounds like bits and pieces from some gem of a find on a Sublime Frequencies compilation, the kind of rare multidimensional sound that Pumice is able to achieve, or the more pastoral side of prog that folks like Bo Hannson explored, or a sun-soaked instrumental passage from an Ariel Pink record (actually this actually reminds us a lot of the great Holy Shit record Ariel Pink made with Matt Fishbeck a while back), or maybe White Rainbow shining their hypnotic rays through the bodies of a band on Woodsist. The album's closer "Surf's Up" is almost like a new generation's version of Terry Riley's A Rainbow In Curved Air!
This record is like a soft edged maze that leads in a million different directions and takes you around on a sonic adventure that isn't as concerned with destination as it is in creating a totally and wholly encapsulating journey. While many in the new wave of one-man-band lo-fi noise pop combos have been focusing their sonic scope more on the fuzz, and burn, and rocked out side of things, Ducktails have a much more languid, dreamy and enchanting approach to finding lo-fi bliss through conjuring up so much warm sun soaked color in their hypnotizing sounds. Highly Recommended!
Hey all right!! We hadn't heard much from these local, long haired, lost-in-time rockers for far too long, 'cause their singing drummer moved away for a while, but is back in town, and now they have a new album out, however only released on limited edition vinyl, a European import (which by the way comes with a cd-r burn of the album as well). We just got some of the last few copies there are direct from the band. If we weren't already familiar with 'em, and didn't deal with these guys in person, though, we'd coulda been fooled into thinking it was a reissue of something from the early '70s proto-metal era, or ever earlier, as they so convincingly channel the likes of Sir Lord Baltimore, Blue Cheer, Highway Robbery, Speed Glue & Shinki, James Gang, Dust, and other inspirations of that ilk in their badass heavy psych groove, totally authentic circa 1969-'72 sounding (well, except that we think we hear 'em head 'em make an anachronistic reference to Beyonce in the lyrics to "Nasty Girl"). And amidst the lumbering riff-rock, they also get into what's simply fuzzed-up '60s garage, Nuggets style, so bands like The Seeds are probably big influences too. Plus, most of the lyrics pertain to girl trouble, a traditional, very garagey subject.
So if you're into heavy fuzz rockin', this is quite recommended. Furthermore, we were delighted to discover that side one contains a Rodriguez cover!! They do "Only Good For Conversation", the fuzziest one from the Detroit Dylan's cult classic 1970 debut Cold Fact, a track we described in our review of the Cold Fact reissue as a "stone(d) cold classic when it comes to heavy duty fuzz guitar crunch" so it's a natural for the Dzjenghis Khan boys. Very cool. Also very cool is that side two starts off with a recording of Dzjenghis Khan's best song ever, or at least our favorite, called "God Damn", we remember it from probably the first time we ever saw 'em play, always a show stopper, encapsulating everything rad about this band.
By the way, we still have a couple (literally, two) copies of their self-titled cd debut from a few years back, on the the now defunct Japanese stoner metal label Leaf Hound, otherwise totally out of print.
Everything But The Gargoyle is a new project spearheaded by San Francisco's Ferrara Brain Pan and fellow Californian Kyra Pixy. Working under the guise of Forms Of Things Unknown, Ferrara has previously mustered occult atmospheres with plenty of nods to Nurse With Wound, Coil, and even some Ryoji Ikeda through an ever intriguing mixture of bass clarinet, electronics, bowed psaltry, and then some. His uneasy and evocative sound design pairs with the breathy cooing of Kyra Pixy, who's reciting the poetry of one G. James Wyrick. The nature of the lyrics is somewhat obscured by the breathy nature of Pixy's delivery, although a pretty good guess would land this somewhere in the supernatural horror and the oblique gothic. The arrangements are well suited to these themes, with martial overtures of slow motion drums lumbering behind eerie reeds that hold the apocalyptic mysticism that Coil achieved on Horse Rotovator many years ago. On other tracks, a slinky noir approach is taken, with the clarinets matching a smokey Barry Adamson / Angelo Badalamenti vibe, making for a brief 4 track ep that's well done and certainly a teaser for a future full-length recording.
Much has been made about the Dual 7"+ cd set that Fabulous Diamonds released a few years back through Nervous Jerk, a small Australian imprint which had the good fortune of also releasing an Animal Collective single. Dual did make an appearance here at Aquarius, although it arrived rather mysteriously (perhaps from the band, perhaps not) and vanished after just a single play of the disc on a busy Saturday afternoon. Yes, that's always a good sign when we don't have to ballyhoo the merits of a record, and the strength of the tunes speak for themselves. Woozy hypnosis from organ, sax, drums, monotone female vocals, and lots of delay patterning is what we can remember from back in 2007. The arrival of Fabulous Diamonds' II (whoops, somehow we missed their self-titled Siltbreeze LP in '08) jogged that memory to the forefront of our collective mind, and we're happy that at least we got hear those early tracks at least once. BUT, damn if Fabulous Diamonds haven't made a stellar album here with II.
This Melbourne duo - Nisa Venerosa (drums, voice) and Jarrod Zlatic (organ, effects) - channels a quasi-mystical hybrid of post-Terry Riley time-lag accumulation and the proto-electronica riffs of the Silver Apples through deliriously simple means. Venerosa lays down a slinky percussive groove without much in the way of variation what so ever, much like finest of motorik krautrock drummers (e.g. Jaki Liebezeit, Zappi Diermaier, etc.), and pairs it with Zlatic's spellbinding layers of interwoven phases, loops and moire patterns snatched from his arpeggiating mantras on organ and synthesizer. Venerosa's stoned lullabies are well suited in their simplicity and echoplex ooze to the Diamonds' hypnotic arrangements. On this album, three short tracks about three and half minutes each are bracketed by two lengthy hypno-zoner jams. Those untitled shorts are great on their own, with curiously catchy phrases of repetitive pop minimalism, but Fabulous Diamonds are clearly at their best when sprawling their rhythms and sounds over longer durations, when Zlatic's organs, electronics, and loops have plenty of time for a lunar trajectory around the dark side and back. Anyone with a passing fancy for the likes of Stereolab, Can, Pocahaunted, Aavikko, Shogun Kunitoki, and of course The Silver Apples would be well served with these Fabulous Diamonds. Excellent!
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The return of long time fave Alastair Galbraith, and when we say long time, we mean like 20 YEARS long time! Back in the nineties, when aQuarius was in its old, tiny, under the stairs previous Noe Valley location, we were one of the few places in the US to get weird music from New Zealand. Labels like Flying Nun, Xpressway, groups like the Dead C, the 3Ds, Tall Dwarfs, This Kind Of Punishment, Bailter Space, Wreck Small Speakers On Expensive Stereos, The Chills, Pin Group, etc... and of course Galbraith, solo, and in his 'band' Handful Of Dust with Bruce Russell of the Dead C and Peter Stapleton. When we helped set up the Terrastock West festival back in 1998, Galbraith performed an incredible set, but is probably more remembered for buying an inflatable dinghy, and going rowing in the San Francisco Bay!
It's only been a few years since Galbraith's last solo album, the gorgeous Orb, which was his first in years, but we're pleased he seems to be on a more consistent release schedule, cuz as much as we love his various collaborations over the last few years (especially his Long Wires In Dark Museums series with Matt De Gennaro), it's his solo records that really hit the spot for us. Dark and mysterious, intimate and abstract, playful and bizarre, moody and melodic, flitting from perfect pop to what the fuck experimentation and back again. And on Mass it's no different. Another ultra varied collection of fracture home brewed pop experimentation, that for all it's mysterious digressions and clashing styles, somehow flows perfectly as a sprawling and gloriously confusional and cohesive album.
Backwards guitars swoop and flutter, beneath wheezing organs, mumbled vocals drift on smoldering streaks of muted feedback, abstract percussion, plucked folky melodies, field recordings and fractured effects all intersect in some weird sort of lo-fi Morricone soundtrack styled minimalism, Galbraith's beautiful croon slips dreamily around reversed steel string guitars, multitracked into lovely harmonies, thick swaths of buzz pulse and throb almost like a 4-tracked SUNNO))), pump organs groan beneath sweet sing songy vocals, before the vocals flip backwards and are draped over skeletal acoustic guitars, the layered voices creating impossibly pretty backwards harmonies, simple percussion, detuned bass buzz, tinkling lullaby like melodies, stumbling Dead C like noise rock, bleating horns, soundtracky drifts, thick undulating guitardrones, symphonies of high pitched chimes, tolling bells, constantly shifting production, most of the songs barely cracking a minute, only 7 breaking 2 minutes, little perfectly imperfect abstract pop fragments, that assembled manage to sound not at all fragmented. We're of course reminded of Finnish groups like Kemialliset, and Avarus, and Anaksimandros, a similarly ramshackle DIY vibe, but Galbraith takes that vibe, infuses it with a distinctly pop element, creating these gorgeous little sonic gems, that manage to be both pretty and poppy, mysterious and minimal at the same time. Totally beguiling and utterly irresistible.
Includes a download card as well!
The first new Gate music in over a decade! Michael Morely aka Gate, may be more well known for his work in legendary New Zealand noiserockers the Dead C, but he's been making Gate records just as long, and they've all been pretty much stone cold classics, The Dew Line is one of THE most unsung, underappreciated weirdo outsider pop records EVER, Golden is ostensibly a noise record, but manages to harness noise into something much more beautiful and listenable and lovely. And now we have A Republic Of Sadness, that like all Gate records, is tough to describe, but impossible to resist. A strange swirling assemblage of lush guitar textures, of Jeckian turntable loops, of crooned lo-fi bedroom pop, of skittery IDM style beats, all woven into dark, woozy, abstract electronic drone pop, or minimal dreamfolk electronica.
The opener "Forever" is totally gorgeous, built atop a scratchy turntable loop, that Basinski like backdrop repeats endlessly, drifting in its cloud of crackle and pop, while all around it other loops sway and swell, a simple stripped down beat, shuffles and skitters, and Morely unfurls a distorted dreamy croon, it's like Gas meets Jeck meets Basinski meets The Caretaker meets Sentridoh. When the vocals drop out, and the loop just repeats endlessly, it's utterly trancelike and mesmerizing. "All" starts out with soft swaths of synth, before a weird clattery lo-fi distorted beat lurches into action, thick rumbling bass underpins the sound, and in come Morely's creepy distorted mumbled vocals, a bit like a Strotter Inst / Gas remix fronted by Jandek, mysterious, mournful, intimate, part way through, a strange lumbering low end wheeze adds a strange counterpoint, and like the track before, the non essentials are jettisoned, and the layered loopscape plays out hypnotically.
The rest of the record constructs similarly twisted bits of lo-fi electronica, woven into skittery dreamscapes, and muted minimal grooves, slipping from the almost funky wah wah guitars and low slung depressive basslines of "Desert", sounding like some home brewed DIY Interpol, to the almost M83 bliss out of "Wilderness" with its fuzzy shoegaze guitardrone, and creaking almost industrial sounding rhythms, all beneath some sun dappled buzzy synths and twisted mush mouthed crooning, to the deconstructed trip hop of "Freak", a stuttery effects drenched rhythm shuffles beneath some super distorted looped guitar crunch, and finally to the nearly 10 minute closer "Trees", with its blown out metalgaze guitar smolder, its booming skeletal big beat rhythm, more moaning vox, a throbbing synth bassline, a sort of lo-fi bedroom brewed cold wave, until about halfway through, when the drums drop out, and all that's left is a gorgeous pulsing synthscape, that will have fans of Oneohtrix and Emeralds and other outer spacesynth krautdrone explorers frothing for sure.
Includes a download card.
Finally one of our favorite soundtracks, from one of our favorite movies, available again, this time without the crazy steep import price. For those in the know, Roy Budd's soundtrack to Get Carter has always been a sonic holy grail of sorts, kind of like the Wicker Man. British dance artists (Stereolab among others) have been borrowing heavily from and flat out covering the theme from Get Carter for years, and the original has always been tough to track down or crazy expensive, or both, until now.
Just like the import, this version is pretty sweet too, with loads of photos, tons of liner notes, interviews, ruminations on the music, the composer, the director, as well as notes on the making of the film.
But it's the music that counts, and the music is incredible, from sixties spy jazz to loungey Bond-ish exotica to hippyish folk rock to groovy seventies funk, the main Get Carter theme is immediately recognizable, that repeating motif, haunting and sexy and mysterious. The rest of the record manages to be super catchy, yet weirdly confounding, super eclectic and peculiar, flitting from jangly pop song to soundtracky string laden shimmer to woozy druggy groove to over the top showtune style croon to crunchy almost hard rock to classical piano to gorgeous cinematic ambience. If that wasn't enough, all the tracks are separated by short snippets of dialogue, super intense, Michael Caine is a monster, if you've seen the move you know, he's so intense, freaking out, violent and scary, brooding and BAD ASS.
Needless to say, SO recommended. By the soundtrack, and if you haven't already, see the movie!
It's weird to think that amongst the legions of fans out there who LOVE Jesu, there are probably loads of folks who don't realize that Jesu was born out of the mighty behemoth that was Godflesh. Justin Broadrick, who started off in grind pioneers Napalm Death, made a quick pitstop in Head Of David, and eventually struck out on his own in Godflesh. These days, drum machines and metal are not strange bedfellows, but back in the day, this was some seriously what-the-fuck action. Metalheads and punk rockers alike were confused, but got over it pretty quick once they realized that Godflesh might just be the heaviest fiercest thing they had ever heard. And Godflesh at their heaviest was to be found right here, on Streetcleaner, adorned with the now iconic image of crucified men on crossed in front of a cascade of burning lava (a frame from the genius movie Altered States), this record, originally released in 1989, still sounds as fearsome as ever. And now that we have a handful of Jesu records to reference, it's easy to hear that some of the seeds that would eventually blossom into the dreamy shoegazy metallic bliss of Jesu, were present even back then, albeit buried beneath a black hole crush of churning downtuned riffage and blistering skull rattling programmed beats. Our old three sentence, 14 word review of this still says it best:
"One of the heaviest, scariest "metal" albums EVER. Drum machine doom death. Godflesh's best."
NOW ON VINYL!!! And holy crap if that cover doesn't look even more amazing all blown back up to its proper lp size!!
After a whole bunch of super limited cd-r's and tapes, dronelord Grasslung, aka Jonas Asher, finally releases his first proper cd full length, on Root Strata, which is seemingly right where it belongs, as sonically, it definitely falls right in line along side Barn Owl, Pulse Emitter, William Fowler Collins, Grouper, Keith Whitman, Duane Pitre, Le Revelateur, and the like, and much like many of the Root Strata crew, Grasslung's approach to the drone is similarly abstract, something much more ethereal and ephemeral, almost new agey, hushed and minimal and slightly ominous, haunting even, long tones, layers and textures, fragmented melodies left to drift in soft expanses of hushed hum and burnished shimmer, the sound both lush and spare, some tracks dense and dark, others seemingly lit from within, glowing softly, from gorgeous contemplative piano driven minimalism, the notes allowed to ring out and gradually fade, the overtones subtle and the low end rumbling way below, to something more glimmery and reflective, soft billowy synthscapes, the melodies stretched way out, allowed to sweetly swell, and to drift dreamily through fields of blurred organ chords and washed out streaks of windswept muted thrum, to a Caretaker like victrola-ed haze, all looped warble and sepiatoned thrum, to smoldering distorted dronedreamdrift, thick swaths of softly churning out of focus buzz, blissed out dronedoom loops, layered and left to gradually melt into one another, creating gauzy swirls of softly colored sound. So totally lovely.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES.
Ahhh Graveland, Viking black metal from Poland! One of the most infamous groups in the BM scene, reviled by many, hated by many more, dismissed as a poseur by still more, politically abhorrent, but musically, it's tough to argue with the last nearly twenty years of iconic and legendary black metal classics: Carpathian Wolves, Thousand Swords, Immortal Pride, Creed Of Iron, Memory And Destiny, The Fire Of Awakening, Dawn Of Iron Blades, Will Stronger Than Death, Spears Of Heaven, we've raved about most of these on the aQ site, from the twisted almost industrial blackness of the first few releases, to the epic folk flecked pagan blackness that defined most of the rest, we love this stuff, and yet two of our favorites we never got to list, as they were reissued and went out of print before the aQ list, so now, thanks to Forever Plagued, these two slabs of grim black hate are available again. For more on Graveland, the music, the politics and all that stuff, check out any of the many other reviews on the aQ site, otherwise, prepare to enter the hellish buzzing black soundworld of the legendary Graveland...
In The Glare Of Burning Churches, is Graveland's legendary 1993 demo, and begins as you would hope, with what sounds like the recording of a burning church, the smoldering crackle of fire consuming wood, all set to hysterical female shrieks and some sort of folk music, a truly strange into, but then Graveland was always a fairly strange proposition, it doesn't take long before the song proper explodes in a harsh blast of hellish hateful blackness, the guitars buzzy and buried underneath the wild shrieking croaked vokills, and the stumbling blasts, the soaring synths, this is total old school epic blackness, which barring some darksynth interludes, and some stretches of droned out ambience, is how the rest of the record plays out, and this version, is apparently an alternate version of the original, which features way harsher vocals, and more intense and harrowing sonics. Lo-fi and raw, but seriously fierce and feral and fucked up and about as scary and intense as black metal gets. This reissue also includes the bonus ep that was tacked on to the now out of print No Colours version, featuring way more keyboards and a weirdly lush sound, as well as a handful of bonus tracks. For the black of heart, and the black of soul...
Ahhh Graveland, Viking black metal from Poland! One of the most infamous groups in the BM scene, reviled by many, hated by many more, dismissed as a poseur by still more, politically abhorrent, but musically, it's tough to argue with the last nearly twenty years of iconic and legendary black metal classics: Carpathian Wolves, Thousand Swords, Immortal Pride, Creed Of Iron, Memory And Destiny, The Fire Of Awakening, Dawn Of Iron Blades, Will Stronger Than Death, Spears Of Heaven, we've raved about most of these on the aQ site, from the twisted almost industrial blackness of the first few releases, to the epic folk flecked pagan blackness that defined most of the rest, we love this stuff, and yet two of our favorites we never got to list, as they were reissued and went out of print before the aQ list, so now, thanks to Forever Plagued, these two slabs of grim black hate are available again. For more on Graveland, the music, the politics and all that stuff, check out any of the many other reviews on the aQ site, otherwise, prepare to enter the hellish buzzing black soundworld of the legendary Graveland...
The Celtic Winter was originally released in 1994, and is another blast of Early Graveland, when they were still raw and primitive, like In The Glare Of Burning Churches, this one also starts out with an intro to set the mood, thick swaths of ominous synthesizer, buzz and rumble beneath the sounds of a village in the midst of some sort of battle, horses and footsteps, the clank of armor and chainmail, shouts and shrieks, all underpinned by haunting minor key melodies, very dramatic and intense, which leads directly into "Call Of The Black Forest" which immediately reveals a subtly changed sound since In The Glare..., the shrieks are dialed way back, the guitars are less jagged and harsh, the whole sound is more 'metal'. less frenzied raw blackness, more churning chugging classic old school metal, still rife with epic soaring synth swells, majestic melodies, the sound surprisingly thick and full, and unlike the records that came before (In The Glare Of Burning Churches, Drunemeton, Necromanteion), this is the first one to hint at the Graveland sound to come, more epic, more Viking, the sound here still raw and buzzy, but definitely reaching toward something much more sweeping and lush. Not to say this isn't grim, or hateful, it most certainly is, but it also just so happens to wrap that hateful grimnity in lots of keyboard, and way more melody, which is not a bad thing at all...
First, there was The Bastard. The ultimate over the top power metal/black metal rock opera, as far as we're concerned. Ok, so Andee here at AQ put it out on his tUMULt label... but that simply proves that he/we really like it (not that that's WHY we like it). Still Hammers' best, wethink. But their follow up The August Engine was pretty killer too. And the same with their third album Locust Years, which we hailed as the first ever fantasy metal album that was also a contemporary political allegory (about Bush and the Iraq War). With that record, Hammers settled with regal grace into a new phase, with the significant addition of '70s styled Hammond organ, taking their prog leanings to ever proggier heights, the raspy black metal aspects of their sound discarded long ago. And this new release from the acclaimed San Francisco metallers is definitely a continuation of that, despite some major lineup changes in the Hammers camp since Locust Years came out in 2006.
Of course, mainman guitarist John Cobbett (Ludicra, ex-Slough Feg) is still the with the band. Also drummer Chewy Marzolo, and keyboardist Sigrid Sheie. But now there's a new set of singers. Hammers, as you may know, have always flaunted operatic/theatrical, male and female vocals, intertwining in their compositions. There's been a few different female singers (who also played bass) over the years, but the clean male vocals until now had been handled solely by Mike Scalzi of Slough Feg, who has a distinctive voice to say the least. Taking over the female role is Jesse Quattro, a trained singer who definitely holds her own in the tradition of Hammers' female vocalists. You won't notice much difference there, though she may well be the best they've had. She doesn't play bass, however, so they've got Ron Nichols in to handle that task. More difficult, perhaps, for Hammers, was replacing Scalzi, who left to concentrate entirely on Slough Feg. Patrick Goodwin (of Dirty Power and Pansy Division) stepped up into Scalzi's shoes and while his voice is definitely different, not having the weird presence or booming depth Scalzi's, he's a capable melodic singer, yearning and emotive, and maybe his less idiosyncratic style fits better with Hammers' current direction. Long time fans will definitely notice a difference, though, and some will roll with it, some won't. Certainly the Hammers of The Bastard aren't the Hammers here.
So, now Hammers Of Misfortune obviously have a lot to prove on this new album - or, actually, albums. That's right, as if to really rise to the occasion and make a statement, they've released a double album, or what they'd have us believe is two separate albums, Fields and Church Of Broken Glass, packaged together. Each one gets its own cover art, you flip the gatefold digipack over to see each one, in the style of an old Ace Double paperback (the cover shown here is that of Fields). Though we were a bit bemused to discover that since the seven cuts on Fields clock in at just over 37 minutes, and the five songs on CoBG total about 35, it actually would have been possible to fit 'em both on a single disc! At least Profound Lore isn't making you pay any extra for this two-cd concept. And, since HoM's music can be so exhaustively epic, full of complex arrangements and keyboard busy-ness and cryptic lyrics, it's actually easier on the listener to have two shorter cds to digest than one exceedingly lengthy one, really!
As well, each disc has its own theme, a rural/urban dichotomy between Fields and Church Of Broken Glass. The best example of the latter being the moody 10 minute epic "Butchertown", painting this very city's streets in sinister fairytale shades. (Urban decay, blight and fright being territory previously explored by Cobbett's black metal outfit Ludicra, as well.) If we know Cobbett, there's probably a clever narrative or allegory at play here, encompassing both discs, leading from song to song and one disc to the next, but Hammers lyrics are poetically vague enough that we haven't puzzled it all out yet exactly. You could look at their recent interview on the Pitchfork website for more insight if you wish. We again get a political vibe from some of this, and do have the idea that Fields starts off about the plight of peasant farmers in Afghanistan, beginning with the three-part, 16-minute suite of "Agriculture", "Fields", and "Motorcade". See what you make of these lines, from the latter: "Escorting friendlies, a walk in the park/Unlock the cages as soon as it's dark/Motorcade motorcade easy to mark/Send in the snipers to swim with the sharks/Breadline is burning, the headcount's a joke/Soon they'll be feasting on mirrors and smoke/Motorcade motorcade horses to show/Fish in a barrel and ducks in a row". Hmm. And Hammers manages to turn that into singalong catchiness!
Fortunately, even with the ambitious scale of this latest project, and all the new members in the band, fans will find that Hammers hasn't changed too much, still full of blazing guitar solos and stop on a dime dynamics, memorable riffs and melodies and exquisite harmonies, musical theater moments and multilayered vocals - all the over the top-ness we love about 'em. Perhaps though the progginess has gotten even proggier, more flowery... We're reminded of Kansas, actually! Well, Kansas mixed with Megadeth, maybe. With a healthy helping of that rollicking, Deep Purplish Hammond organ first introduced on previous opus the Locust Years, as we said. And if you're into 'em for the female vocals, you won't be disappointed at all.
So, what should be Hammers' sales slogan for this album - New and Improved? Well, no, we can't quite go there, what with our feelings about the The Bastard. Well, how about Two For The Price Of One! Sure. And how about Thinking Man's (and Woman's) Metal? Definitely. But we get the idea that slogans and soundbites and all those mass media manipulative aspects of modern commercial culture are exactly what Hammers Of Misfortune stands against, so we'll just leave it with, well worth checking out.
Oh, and Hammers fans of the vinyl-buying persuasion, please note that this is also going to be coming out on lp (several of them of course), via the 20 Buck Spin label...
Ready for some harmonies and heaviness? Pure, prog-tastic METAL for the long, dark winter? We know you are, 'cause it's been a long while. But now, it's here. The Hammers come down for the second time with this long-awaited new album, the follow-up to their acclaimed (and already out-of-print, for now) debut The Bastard released on our own Andee's tUMUlt label back in 2001. Whereas The Bastard was a full-on rock opera, The August Engine only *sounds* like a rock opera, it isn't actually one. There's no narrative, unifying concept to the songs this time, which puts HoM's eclectic metal mixture in danger of losing focus, being too unpredictably psychedelic and epic for their own good. Wait, what are we saying? That's no problem! As diverse as their songwriting and sonic palette can be, everything here sounds like Hammers and nothing else (well, except Slough Feg), which can only be the mark of a brilliant band.
Bursting out of the gates with an adrenalized instrumental opener that thrashes like Megadeth while remaining as gloriously 'classical' and over the top as anything on The Bastard, we can't say The August Engine never lets up. It does, but only in the sense that some decidedly unusual, and sometimes mellow avenues are explored. But for every non-metallic moment of sweet singing and pleasant acoustic guitars, you get plenty of shredding electric ones, with pounding drums, dramatic male and female vocals on a grand scale, and headbanging riffage. Advanced metal mastery here folks. Pretentious? Indulgent? Arrogant? No, simply mighty. The 10-out-of-10 review this album has already garnered from veteran metal scribe Martin Popoff likened them to a psychedelic version of the best of Iron Maiden, who are we to argue?
Hammers still consist of John and Mike from The Lord Weird Slough Feg, plus drummer Chewy. On this recording, Janis Tanaka plays bass and sings like an angel, though when you go see Hammers live now, they have a new lineup including not only a foxy new bassist/singer but another female vocalist who plays Hammond organ as well!
The vinyl (on tUMULt) has different cover artwork than, but the same tracks as, the compact disc version, released in a black-and-silver digipak edition by upstart Italian metal label Cruz Del Sur. Both sport cool Voivod-ish liner art by mastermind John Cobbett himself. Of course, recommended.
Our own Andee proves himself, and his tUMULt label, to be truly dedicated to the Heaviest of Metal with this new release! Following on from prior tUMULt metal-oriented releases (the grim and trancelike black metal genius of Weakling, the blackened
Formerly known as Unholy Cadaver, Hammers of Misfortune is the demented brainchild of local metal master John Cobbett, who also plays guitar in the cult SF "celtic epic metal" outfit The Lord Weird Slough Feg. Mike from Slough Feg is also in Hammers, playing guitar and providing the "clean" male vox. And we must mention the contribution of Janis Tanaka (ex-Stone Fox) on bass and the exellent female vocals. "The Bastard" comes across like a mixture of Cradle of Filth and Blind Guardian, or Slough Feg and Opeth, or Satyricon and Mercyful Fate: it's that eclectic, that classic, that amazing.
People have been waiting a long time for this, the third opus from SF's own Hammers Of Misfortune, one of the most ambitious, audacious, bodacious, bombastic, maybe even slightly ludicrous bands in the metal realm...and metal this is, through and through, even as it pushes the envelope right over the edge into, I don't know, musical theater... 2003's The August Engine was pretty amazing, as was (our favorite) their year 2000 debut, The Bastard (released by Andee's tUMULt label we should note). The Locust Years has a lot to live up to.
And live it up they do here. Just check out the band photos for evidence of that (funnier if you know these folks). There's a shocking formal portrait on the back cover, everybody dressed up in tuxedos and evening gowns, hair pulled back. And then inside the cd booklet, you see 'em letting their hair down in a glammy, rock n' roll fantasy shot. It's nice to see that they don't take themselves too seriously, that should keep people guessing about this band. Not so pretentious as some might think, joking but no joke.
Quick intro first for those just tuning in/turning on to this band: Hammers is a rock-operatic heavy metal juggernaut with harmonizing lead guitars, pounding Hammond organ (new!), and majestic male and female vocal lines. The band features members of The Lord Weird Slough Feg past and present, and mainman John Cobbett is busy too with his other band black metallers Ludicra (new ep elsewhere on this list) plus he's been playing with the likes of Amber Asylum and even Jarboe of late... As you might imagine from all of this, Hammers is an especially eclectic mix of '70s prog, '80s metal, black metal (without the black metal vocals), classical music, avant-chamber-rock, Mary Poppinsy musical showtuneage, Opethian loud/soft, fast/slow dynamics...
Basically, everything (and more) that already earned mucho plaudits for the Hammers' first two albums is present here: the sweeping melodic grandeur, metallic excitement, complex arrangements, virtuoso playing, intelligent lyrics, many moods, and attention to idiosyncratic detail -- which is evident from the packaging, with its Thomas Woodruff cover painting and aforementioned photography, to the music, for instance the track "War Anthem" that features a whole hired drum line arranged by Hammers drummer Chewy. Or it's actually Chewy multitracking his own one man drum line. Either way, it's pretty darn Tusk!!
And lyrically, while it's not a storytelling narrative like The Bastard, it's somewhat more of a cohesive "concept album" than was August Engine... the concept being, near as we can tell, a very allegorical, cryptic protest against the awful person and policies of our president, George W. Bush!! Or at least that's what we get from lyrics like "Death - death to the infidels / sons of our servants shall serve and serve us well / and gifted with endless war / flags and fanatics forevermore" (from "War Anthem") or, "If people wonder at the suffering you cause / and your massive avarice has left them at a loss / if by chance they notice your bloody, snapping jaws / the blood upon your claws / your shifty eyes and laws / the nauseating flaws in all you've said / trot out the dead" (from "Trot Out The Dead") -- no that's not Satan they're singing about, not exactly. We're pretty sure that makes The Locust Years the world's first POLITICAL epic fantasy prog power metal album!!
Recommended of course.
We have been craving some Holy Shit so bad for so long! The last time we got a record from these guys it was the mind blowing 2006 album Standing At Two Harbours, a brilliant washed out pop record that predated the onslaught of lo-fi pop that's exploded in the last few years. The band is Matt Fishbeck and Ariel Pink, and together they are able to create music that rings with a stronger emotional quality then many of Ariel's other great projects. Fishbeck really has such a great understanding of songcraft, and Ariel brings his innovative and recognizable sun baked aura to these two warm and woozy songs. The B-side "Priest Fucks Nin In The No-No" might even steal the show, a long and hypnotizing instrumental that we could hear go on for infinity. But the A-side "Rough And Tumble" ain't no slouch either, total understated gem of a warbly pop nugget. A pretty damn perfect 7", now maybe just maybe, could there be a new full length on the horizon!?
It's not just us that thought Horseback's latest album was so awesome. A blurb taken from the following review of ours does appear on this Relapse-reissued and repackaged top obi, alongside similarly enthusiastic quotes from both The Wire magazine and Invisible Oranges blog.
Originally released by the amazing Utech label, this album garnered the attention of the corporate metal overlords (just kidding) at Relapse, who obviously thought it could, and should, find a wider audience. Good for Horseback! Definitely pick this one up if you missed the Utech edition. Here's what we said about it before:
Something very strange must have transpired since the last Horseback disc. Something traumatic maybe? Some spiritual crisis of sonic faith? Where that record was a glistening, glimmering, dreamy, drifty drone record, this one is, well, much heavier, and more rocking, and WAY more intense and EVIL sounding. So much so that it almost sounds like a different band. That said, we dig it. A LOT.
Super intense, and super heavy psychedelic twang flecked metallic post rock. The guitars buzz, and drone, and occasionally twang, the drums are powerful, tight, the instruments locked into slow burning build ups, some strange hybrid of newer Earth, Godspeed, Circle, the Necks and maybe a little Scenic. There's a sort of krautrock vibe going on too. Sun baked, a little lysergic, space-y hypnotic, repetitive, the tracks looooooong, with mostly a single part, that gradually builds and builds. The cool thing is it never explodes into a metal coda, a la Isis or Neurosis or a million other bands, it's all about the journey not the destination, and the journey is riveting enough without tacking on an explosive blow out.
But then there's the vocals, a harsh demonic rasp totally at odds with the music beneath, which in some ways makes the combination sound that much more intense and evil. Especially when the rasps are locked in a sort of call and response with the guitars, really strange but definitely compelling.
The first three tracks are variations on a theme, each an incredible slab of brooding, mesmerizing hypno-rock, lush and layered, with tons of cool little extra guitar flourishes, the drums busy enough to be interesting, but still locked tight into the groove, those vocals, adding menace for sure, but also a strange element that as mentioned above changes the whole feel. A track will be moody and woozy and will suddenly sound a bit evil, or at least a little ominous, before slipping back into the loping, pounding crush of the main riffs.
The strangest thing about this record is that the track with the most overtly evil title, the closer "Hatecloud Dissolving Into Nothing", is the least heavy or evil of the bunch, and the only track that sounds like the first Horseback record. A 16+ minute drift of soft focus new age-y ambience, of dreamy drift, sun dappled guitars draped over long stretches of gauzy whir, the sound delicate and crystalline, definitely dreamy and blissed out, the only remnant of the tracks that came before, are some barely audible harsh vokills, way way way down in the mix, that almost sound like a slow shifting layer of hiss or buzz, beneath the kaleidoscopic shimmer of blurred guitar hum and melancholic melody, another strange combination, but similar to the vocals on the first three tracks, they lend a very subtle hint of menace to the otherwise tranquil proceedings.
The new jewelcase packaging is still quite nice, though not as gorgeous as the original Utech sleeve.
Once known as the Hate Rock Trio, this Australian-born / London-based ensemble shortened their name down to HTRK (which the band still insists on pronouncing Hate Rock). Unfortunately, in the spring of 2010, the bassist Sean Stewart committed suicide. The remaining members - Jonnine Standish and Nigel Lee-Yang - look to continue making music, although that may seem a difficult proposition given that Stewart's low-slung basslines really drove HTRK's doom and dirge songwriting approach. The Birthday Party, Sisters Of Mercy, and PJ Harvey came together within HTRK's very impressive 2009 album Marry Me Tonight, produced by Roland S. Howard who really emphasized the skeletal, haunted aspect of HTRK's sound. That's quite different from what you'll hear on their 2007 debut Nostalgia, which still had a very strong Birthday Party sound especially with Stewart's recapitulation of Tracy Pew basslines, but the band has buried Standish's exhausted / exasperated vocals, Lee-Yang's swampy guitars, and the minimalist electronic programming in a huge bath of reverb. The spectral morass of all of the reverb really casts as a abjectly narcotic to the feel of these songs. Where on Marry Me Tonight which pushed Standish's vocals to the foreground to dramatic effect, she's lurking around the corners of these songs, howling and yelping deep into the night. It should be noted that a couple of songs from Nostalgia do reappear on Marry Me Tonight, although the difference in production really does change the the outcome. "Look What's Been Done" has become "Ha". "Look At That Girl" reappeared as "Rent Boy" and "I'm All Broke Up" turned into "Disco." Really fantastic.
The consummate "folksinger's folksinger" Michael Hurley has had a long strange life on the influential fringe of American folk music. And as most marginal artists from the fifties and sixties folk revival, just like their early progenitors, Hurley has had much more influence and success in the latter half of his life than in the beginnings. Why, we know much more about Hurley's influence on and involvement with the freak-folk movement of the past decade, than his early beginnings as an East Village folkie in New York or his symbolic connection to Woody Guthrie (Hurley too was once a patient at the same Bellvue convalescent ward where Guthrie spent his last days). In fact, this first record from 1964 on Smithsonian Folkways when Hurley was just 23 years old was released just after he left Bellvue, and one can hear the strains of Guthrie's roaming influence on these ramshackle backporch ballads that sound much older than they are. Hurley's music wasn't politically motivated, but championed a rugged individualism well in tune with bouts of desperation, wry wit and visionary mythical brilliance. This insight has only made him grow as an artist who just keeps getting better and better. Highly Recommended!
Another incredible unsung jazz gem rescued from obscurity by the awesome Jazzman label, this one comes from Bobby Jackson, a name even the most seasoned jazz obsessives might not recognize. He was a Minneapolis bassist and big time jazz booster, having put on shows for Roland Kirk, Elvin Jones, Freddie Hubbard and more, at his Cafe Extra-Ordinaire, a small coffee bar jazz bistro he started as a place for live jazz. A place he worked at serving coffee, booking bands, and somehow still finding time to play. His story is incredible, trials and tribulations, drugs, cops, crazy jazzheads, and a record, this record, that was recorded in 1970 but took 8 years to be released, and even then, outside of their tiny circle, no one heard it, until now.
Which is a shame, cuz like most of the other holy grail reissues on Jazzman, if things went a little differently, if the right people in the right places found out about these jams, all of these folks could have, SHOULD have been huge. Which is precisely the case with Jackson, this is an incredible collection of deep spiritual modal jazz, opener "Paul's Ark" is an instant classic, the horn melodies recalling Roland Kirk, Jackson's bass busy and melodic, the drumming skittery and smooth, so so good. And from there on out, it remains total spiritual cosmic jazz bliss, the piano playing is incredible, flurries of notes swirling over insanely busy drumming, Jackson't bass holding it all together, the songs slipping from sweet jazzy coffee house grooves to frantic frenetic hard bop workouts, the sort of wild frenzied playing that would have most jazz crowds on the edge of their seats on on their feet!
Huge booklet packed with liner notes, interviews, photos, the story of the record, of Jackson, of the club, including some funny stuff about Sun Ra, Prince (it is Minneapolis after all) and more...
Ah, the glory that was NWOBHM! (Do we need to spell it out? The New Wave Of British Heavy Metal, a wondrous musical phenomenon of the late '70s/early '80s, yeah, you know.) A couple lists back, in our review of the killer Wolfbane disc released by Shadow Kingdom, we mentioned there were several other cool recent NWOBHM reissues we'd be listing soon, here's one of 'em, also on Shadow Kingdom, an archival collection of material by this fairly obscure Birmingham band (named for a historical incident from the Boer War) who never made proper full-length record but nonetheless did put out some cult classic tracks, including a contribution to the Metal for Muthas II compilation. For some reason, that one's not here, but you do get 14 tracks taken from various eps and demos, etc., among them the three songs from Jameson Raid's 1979 debut single, starting off with the triumphant "Seven Days Of Splendour" (a positive story about a UFO encounter, which, for those of you who were paying attention to our Roxxcalibur review a while back, was one of the songs covered by that NWOBHM tribute band on their highly enjoyable album). The other two are the punky "It's A Crime" (which reminds us of Crushed Butler!), and "Catcher In The Rye" (that's right, inspired by the J.D. Salinger novel). While this band boogied hard for sure, they also apparently liked to have their songs be -about- something, it's thinking man's NWOBHM in a way, quite melodic too, and a bit garagey, really more '70s hard rock proto-metal than anything '80s metallic, harking back to early UFO and Thin Lizzy. Good stuff, and all the tracks here share these charms, some of the songs with sad and weary vibe derived perhaps from Lizzy, others rockin' out like greasy AC/DC...
Packaged with a thick cd booklet stuffed with lyrics, liner notes (including reminiscences from original band members), vintage photos, etc.
Picked this album up at a garage sale as a kid, just 'cause of the crazy cover art, and have been a big fan ever since. Here it is reissued on vinyl, a definite '70s funk classic (from '72 to be precise), Jimmy's freakiest by far, stuff that could have made Funkadelic proud, both fuzzy and funky and a little Latin too. Or as we've said before about a Castor comp, "for fans of early Kool & the Gang, Parliament, B.T. Express, that sort of thing, but the best stuff here's got a dosed and primordial edge unlike anything else excavated from the early '70s era." And that "best stuff" is mostly all here on It's Just Begun. The title track is a heavy acid funk freakout, then there's the cave man classic "Troglodyte", and the trippy vibes of "L.T.D. (Life, Truth, Death)", and more... And it's all wrapped in that awesome, astrologically symbolic cover painting (featuring a slum building, in a wasteland, with not one but two giant Jimmy Castors looming over it, alongside a floating armored egg, tubes and troglodytes). There's an explanation of all the images' significance to be found on the back cover, dig it.
This is the best Seu Jorge record we've heard since we were first turned on to his stripped down bossa interpretations of David Bowie songs for The Life Aquatic Soundtrack. And it's not just because all the songs featured here are covers. Backing him up this time around is a trio of Brazilian rock musicians (Almaz) who originally joined the singer to record one song for a soundtrack and the chemistry was so right that they ended up doing a full record and are currently touring together. We were never too keen on Jorge's previous records of original songs, because they carried too much of a global fusion vibe that held little of the magic of his pared-down reinterpretations. But Almaz hit the musical tone just right, keeping the grooves sleek and prominent with a tight focus on rich atmosphere with psych and dub flourishes and economic arrangements. The covers are mostly of classic and obscure Brazilian songs by Tim Maia, Jorge Ben, Noriel Vilela and Nelson Cavaquinho but Jorge also throws in English-sung covers by Michael Jackson ("Rock With You"), Kraftwerk ("The Model") and Roy Ayers ("Everybody Loves The Sunshine"). The Ayers track works best, adding a layer of sultry coolness with Jorge's rich deep voice, but keeping the rare groove of the original completely in tact. All in all, a direction we're happy to see the Brazilian singer headed towards and hope future releases are just as promising.
Ok, so AQ customers are likely well aware of the "New Wave Of Finnish Heavy Metal" movement popularized by Circle and cohorts, an alleged genre that's usually more krautrock than metal anyway, but is certainly Finnish. Well, drop the heavy metal part and you've got Finnish New Wave, eh? And that's what new Smalltown Supersound act K-X-P are up to. Synth-laden '80s inspired "New Wave" from Finland, played on drums, bass, and keys (no guitar), with plenty of that motorik krautrock groove Circle and Co. are known for as well. One of their two, rotating drummers (they switch off on this recording) is in fact Tomi from Circle and Aavikko so that certainly makes sense.
Consisting largely of instrumental grooves, these eight tracks are heavy on the electronics, and driving hypnotic rhythms, with some vocals here and there, that at times remind us of Adam & The Ants, or what we think we remember Adam Ant sounding like, though the vocals in "Pockets" are weirdly effected in a way that makes 'em sound almost like Mika Ratto from Circle, singing over Gary Numan-like throbbing synth pop. K-X-P doesn't lack variety, "Mehu Moments" actually reminds us of a krauty version of that Charanjit Singh Ten Ragas To A Disco Beat reissue, it's got that "exotic" vibe with synth squiggle freaking out over steady pulsations, and "18 Hours (Of Love)" has a bit of a glammy Gary Glitter shuffle-time Fred Bigot feel to it, with the singer chanting anthemically over rhythmically spaced electronic distortion-detonations. Elsewhere, K-X-P offer up moodier, dubbier excursions. And yeah, with our love of Finland, and Circle, and krautrock, and coldwave, and noise, and disco, and dub, this pushes plenty of buttons. So this disc has been getting a lot of instore play here at AQ, as word passes from one staffer to another...
We'd happily recommend this to you if you enjoy some/most/any/all of the following: Jonas Reinhardt, Aavikko, Neu!, Suicide, Circle, Cold Cave, Salvatore, Bronze, even Rah Bras.
Another awesome unearthed post punk gem, this one from a young Belgian combo of crusty anarcho DIY youths, heavily influenced by Crass, but sounding way more like the Slits or the Raincoats. Early eighties art punk / post punk / new wave, this gorgeous reissue collects their entire recorded output, including some seriously rare stuff, including their original demo tape, which was released in 1981 in a run of 30 copies.
The record begins with some crunchy jagged guitars, a simple drum plod, spoken female vocals and a woozy tangled bassline, before exploding into an awesomely lowslung post punk groove, all Joy Divisiony bass, clanging echo drenched guitars, swirls of effects, the vocals leaping from melodic croon, to feral yelp to strident sloganeering to sing songy and anthemic, the lyrics simple and heartfelt, punk and political, the songs laced with lullaby like keyboard melodies, the drums frenetic and propulsive, the sound gloomy, but simultaneously wild and celebratory, bits of strange electronic percussion here and there, mysterious synth blurts, raw and a little bit primitive and totally DIY, anyone who's been digging the recent spate of cold/new wave reissues, will for sure dig this too.
Killer packaging, a massive fold out poster sleeve, with photos and a vintage interview on one side, a huge blurry band photo on the other, with a little hand stamped envelope affixed to the inside containing a folded up lyric sheet.
The last week or two of our so-called "summer" here in San Francisco, has been pretty darn gray. Cold, overcast, gray, a bummer. But, getting the long-awaited new album from Finland's Kemialliset Ystavat (aka Jan Anderzen and friends) has made a big difference! You know how we love love love all things Finland, and Fonal. That magic hasn't abated. Lively, lovely, colorful; woozy and wonderful, this Kemialliset is just what the doctor ordered. Have you heard 'em before? Kemialliset, and their fellow Fonal artists, have been referred to by us (and others) as "Finnish Forest Folk". Fairly accurate... as long as you're ok with folk music made using computers. From a forest that's full of brightly colored trees and plants whose pharmacological uses are probably entirely recreational and specifically hallucinatory. Populated by strange creatures like gibbering gnomes and tittering trolls. And of course, they ARE from Finland. Of course of course.
Carefully constructed by Jan in his forest laboratory, a collage of contributions from folks like Roope Eronen (Avarus, Maniacs Dream, Pylon), Kevin Regan (Fricara Pacchu, Anaksimandros, Avarus), Jussi Lehtisalo (Circle, Pharaoh Overlord), C. Spencer Yeh (Burning Star Core), Neil Campbell (Astral Social Club), Markus Maki (Anaksimandros, Avarus, Kiila), Pekko Kappi (Kiila), Hitoshi Kojo (Juppala Kaapio), Joshua Stevenson (Jackie-O Motherfucker) and others, this is, as you might expect, a delirious and dense tapestry of seamlessly flowing, ever-changing, psychedelic soundz. 14 tracks total to delight the ear with such teeter-tottering elements as lilting layered female vox, bleepy glitchy background electronix (track six sounds like they've wandered into an '80s video arcade to record), wheezing harmonium drones, rattling ritual percussion, cartoon SFX, snippets of synth melody seemingly snatched from a '70s Bo Hansson record, and much much more, from krauty rhythmics to lullaby babble, and hybrids thereof. It's part Incredible String Band, part Raymond Scott or Bruce Haack. Or imagine a completely dosed and demented Black Moth Super Rainbow making a cd-r for Jewelled Antler, maybe.
Truly a phantasmagorical tour-de-force, utterly what we needed to brighten these grey days and/or make 'em cosier. The compact disc version is packaged in a tri-fold digi with a thick booklet packed with beautiful full-color photographs and some very interesting text in both Finnish and English, and the vinyl is nice too.
It's been a while since we've heard from Swiss heavies Knut, who we've always loved, their sound a head caving hybrid of mathy crush and epic post metal majesty, they were exploring Neurosis / Isis slow burn big blowout metallic post rock territory long before it became the flavor du jour. But the real appeal was that they could craft these expansive dirgescapes and then explode into noise rock freakouts, or super complex mathy grooves, and if anything, on Wonder, it sounds like Knut have moved way further into mathy noise rock territory, which we're actually pretty psyched about, heck, the world has enough long songs that build slowly into epic metallic heaviness, and yeah, okay, maybe the world has enough gnarled grinding math metal juggernauts, but we think not.
And Knut are indeed masters, putting most other heavies to shame, really in the space of a single song. "Leet" explodes in a frenzy of churning riffage and pounding chaotic drumming, bellowed vox, a deft chugging stuttering lurching start stop convoluted mathy workout, but infused with little bits of melody, some super cool, weirdly obtuse breakdowns, a relentless math metal freeforall that practically out-Don-Caballero-s Don Cab themselves.
There are a few tracks, where the bands reel in their insane time signatures and frenzied riffing, letting their sound ooze and sprawl, droning and buzzing, where they unfurl epic brooding heaviness, much like the above mentioned post metal, but even those moments are peppered with little mathy bursts, little gnarled and convoluted twists, there are a few interludes too, more sort of droned out guitar ambience, before they finish off with the 8+ minute "Wonder/Daily Grind", the first half of which is a gorgeously lysergic dronescape of layered slow motion chords and thick psychedelic guitar smolder, it does eventually lurch into some lumbering chug and pound, but just as quickly it slips back into some minimal ambient buzz and drone.
Some seriously awesome heaviness.
With the three key albums of Thomas Koner's work having recently been reissued individually on vinyl, Type has now collected those records - Nunatak, Teimo, and Permafrost - in a handsome oversized folio for presenting those albums on compact disc. Here's a recap of our reviews of these stunning pieces of glacial minimalism:
Thomas Koner's debut album Nunatak Gongamur (now truncated as Nunatak) was a record that quietly emerged on the Dutch label Barooni in 1990. Almost all of Koner's recordings (at least his solo recordings), speak to the tundra of the Northern environs, with a lot of allusions to the expanses of Greenland in particular. Nuuk was the name of one Koner record, which happens to the capital and largest city of that frigid island; and Nunatak is an Inuit word describing any rocky outcropping not covered in snow. And of course, Koner excels in the producing of cold cold music. There is a considerable difference between this album and the rest of his catalogue, as Nunatak is an electro-acoustic album entirely sourced from huge gongs. His other records definitely obliterated the source material (some of which was cited as being the sound channel on blank 16mm film stock) into deep space shadow and blackened noise. Here on Nunatak, Koner leaves the resonance of his metal gongs alone, occasionally catching them in languid loops but always focusing on vast deep rumbling overtones and the vast subharmonic frequencies. Given the rasping textures from the gongs, this one is less the all-consuming isolationism and more of an adventurous dronescrape as if extracted from the hull of a cargo ship.
Teimo is an album that was originally released as a cd on Barooni in 1992. Like its predecessor Nunatak Gongamur, Koner had sourced much of Teimo from recordings of gongs, using contact microphones and hydrophones to capture an unusual assortment of resonance, timbre, and decaying frequencies from his gongs. In these recordings, Koner was investigating what he qualified as an 'aesthetic of decline' shaped by the processes of decay, thermal cooling, and any gradual event that will achieve stasis. Water seeking its own level. Glaciers amassing in frozen landscapes. The metal fatigue of submarines, cracking under the pressure of an entire ocean. The long sustained metallic resonances of the gong is an apt tool for his conceptual framework, with Koner further manipulating his sources into elegant passages of subharmonic rumblings that utter subtle melodic phrases whilst shaking the bottom of the seafloor. Amidst the low-end drones and allusions to barren landscapes, Koner takes great care to keep the sounds immersive without imbuing them with terror. Yes, this is 'dark' ambient music, but his aesthetic of decline is far more clinical than say the theatrical drama that Lustmord can muster through his deadly recordings. Koner's quest is for the sublime, filled with awe and beauty simultaneously; and he has effortlessly achieved that quest throughout his career, certainly including this masterful record.
In Permafrost, we have the third and final chapter of this series of reissues from Type, documenting the long out-of-print isolationist composition from Thomas Koner. As with the previous recordings - Nunatak and Teimo - the German sound artist has masterfully captured the frigid atmospheres of the most northern ecosystems, and the title Permafrost leaves little to the imagination as to where this one will be travelling. Cold. Barren. Black. Sublime. The sounds are thoroughly abstracted into shifting blocks of grey noises slipping above seismic rumblings of infinitely bellowing low-end frequencies. By doing so, Koner eschews the use of the gong scrapes and metallic glistenings which graced those early records, adopting the bleak ethos which he continued to master on such albums as Kaamos and Daikan (the latter of which is probably the pinnacle of his career).
All of Koner's work is required listening for anyone who has been interested in drone-based recordings from any time period (e.g. Eno, Lustmord, Chalk, Hafler Trio, Roland Kayn, Alan Splet, Bernhard Gunter, BJ Nilsen, Kevin Drumm, etc.). His subtle use of movement and half-melodic phrasing in his arctic-driven ambience has warranted him quite a reputation, and fortunately none of his reissues fail to sound timeless, breathtaking, and bone-chillingly beautiful. Highly recommended.
First full length from this East Coast one man black metal band, who trafficks in some awesomely epic spaced out buzz drenched cosmic atmospheric symphonic blackness, a sound that falls somewhere between Velvet Cacoon, Wolves In The Throne Room, and Paysage D'Hiver. Six looooong buzzscapes, that drift from midtempo lope, to blurred black blast, the programmed drums skeletal and buried in the mix, a murky throb in a swirling sea of dizzying layered woozy riffage, washed out and psychedelic, the guitar parts spidery and minor key, the sound super atmospheric and depressive, haunting and otherworldly.
Much of Evoking The Multiverse is spent drifting through the sonic aether, the black metal barely black at all, instead, the sound seems to manifest itself as a streaked field of kosmische shimmer, lush layers of warm whirring buzz and smeared soft focus dreambuzz, "The Planetary Dream Of Infinity" most notably, seems to eschew the traditional tropes of black metal entirely (minus the vocals) offering up slow smoldering streaks of prismatic doomic drift, unfurling long burnished tones, sprawling chordal streaks, the entire track, bathed in some sort of soft celestial light, so melodic, and drifty and soft focus, if it weren't for the vocals, it could almost be some sort of blissed out blackened psychedelia, and much of the record exists in this black metal limbo, slipping just as easily into the heaven of warm otherworldly melodicism, as the hell of grim blasting black buzz, but more often then not, situating itself somewhere right in between, the heavy fast black metal parts rife with strange psychedelic filigree and subtle melodic shadings, and the pretty parts occasionally swallowed up by harrowing bursts of pounding frantic heaviness.
Latest demo from Philly one man black metal band Lonesummer, and it's a doozy. Like on the last record, What We Were, Lonesummer's sound continues to confound and baffle, only black metal on the surface, there's way more going on that just blast and buzz. On what We Were it was sampled jazz records, female vocals, all kinds of backwards effects, a serious heaping helping of noise, not to mention some shoegazey poppiness, all wound up into a swirling tripped out chunk of psychedelic blackness. On this latest, if anything, both the poppiness AND the noisiness have been cranked way up, for yet another amazing blackened slab of heavy/pretty whatthefuck.
The record opens with a crumbling wall of feedback and buzz, before the song erupts in a total blast of in-the-red metalgaze, all pretty pop drift buried beneath an avalanche of distortion and Merzbowian buzz, which leads right into a track that is WAY at the other end of the spectrum, softly buzzing guitars, simple skeletal drum machine, a bit like a lo-fi bedroom brewed Cure, but with harsh demonic vox, and a weird almost new age sounding synth solo. Sounds weird, and it is, but if you didn't want weird, you would most definitely have bailed out of this review about ten sentences back.
From there on out, it's a series of schizophrenic sonic freakouts, from ultra lo-fi grim garage style raw primitive black buzz, to washed out woozy blackened melancholy drift, brittle guitars, trash can drums, shrieked vokills, but all drifting on a dreamy pure pop melody, to super blown out chaotic noise rock, but even then, shot through with some sort of unlikely melody, the entire sound threatening to collapse beneath the weight of so much distorted buzz and amp shredding crunch.
"Hyalophagia" is a blast of almost pure white noise, with some sort of thrashing blackness going on underneath, finishing off with a bizarre collage of foreign language samples and elevator music melodies. "9-25" is all dour spidery slowcore guitars, unfurling crystalline melodies in a wide open expanse of reverbed shimmer, peppered with sizzling cymbals, and chiming swaths of almost lush sounding harmonies. "Watch The Walls Instead" sounds like Casio black metal, a skittery programmed beat shuffles beneath sheets of warm muted buzz, as if there was a depressive black metal shoe gaze demo preset on those little keyboards. The final three tracks are variations on extreme black noisiness, flitting from raw primitive blast, to in the red pounding crunch, and finally back to loping minor key lo-fi blissed out blackened pop.
LIMITED TO 125 COPIES. Nicely packaged in printed envelopes with cardstock gatefold inserts...
On first listen it's practically impossible to even consider that this isn't some awesome live DJ set of rare jazz grooves, spiritual, modal, post bop, funky, soulful, don't really recognize most of the names, but then they're just crazy obscure right? Well, in fact, this is not so much a Madlib DJ set, spinning mad jazz, as it is a collection of groups featuring Madlib PLAYING real jazz. Every band here is a different permutation/alias of Madlib and his extended jazz crew, and as if it wasn't enough that he was an amazing producer and DJ, he is also apparently some sort of jazz master, as he and his bandmates conjure up every variation of classic jazz under the sun, whether it be psychedelic soul jazz, funky far out jazz fusion, classic bop, Latin jazz, sitar tinged Eastern jazz, the playing and composition is impeccable, but also far out and psychedelic, woozy organs, wah guitars, soulful female vox, shuffling drum skitter, amazing horns, lush piano, tinkling chimes, tribal percussion, all woven into an ever shifting array of sounds, funky blaxploitation style wah wah jazz funk, smooth laid back coffee house smoulder, wild psychedelic free jazz freakout, brooding dark ballads, soaring spiritual jazz shimmer, old school big band jazz, and it's not just the music, not only is the record named for a legendary seventies jazz fusion jam, the booklet features spot on fake Blue Note style album covers for the records from each of these groups that these tracks were supposedly taken from. So genius!
