We've never been much for musicals. Sure Jesus Christ Superstar had its moments. So did Godspell. And Hair. Hell, some of us even saw Annie and Evita when we were kids. But musicals definitely just seem to rub us the wrong way. Overly dramatic and hammy, the songs cloying and annoyingly earwormy. But then there's this. A live action motion picture musical, conceived of, and written by, none other than Dr. Seuss! A twisted Technicolor fantasy, the story of a young boy who hated practicing the piano, and the evil piano teacher who kidnaps him, and 499 other children, to play his insidious tune on a custom built 5000 key piano, and who also kidnaps and brainwashes the boy's mother, only to be rescued (spoiler alert) by a friendly sympathetic plumber! The movie was a only a middling success when it was first released in 1953, as it turned out to be a bit too scary for children (it's practically psychedelic as well), and thus ended up a cult classic, with viewings playing out like Rocky Horror screenings, the crowd singing along and reciting the dialogue along with the characters. The interesting thing is, that much of the music composed for the film was cut from the final edit, and when we originally carried the single disc version of this soundtrack way back when, it was woefully incomplete. But this right here is as about as complete as it gets, delivering not only the soundtrack as it's heard in the film, but also alternate versions, composer sketches, preproduction material, instrumental orchestral tracks, and most excitingly of all, the soundtrack as it was originally conceived and composed, with all the original cues, songs, ballets, and more. It's fantastical and over the top: sumptuous '50s orchestral arrangements meet soaring swoonsome strings meet marching band numbers and of course there are the various numbers sung in loopy Dr. Seussian rhymes, it's pretty far out, a twisted Seussian musical, that even removed from the incredible visuals, still sounds so fantastic.
Originally, the movie was planned to be a vehicle for Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby (as the evil Dr. T and the plumber, respectively... how crazy would that have been?!), but they ended up casting relative unknowns, and the story itself was both an anti-Hitler allegory and an all encompassing anti authoritarian manifesto (focused specifically on the looming threat of the atomic bomb), but all of that stuff was very subtle, hidden underneath clever wordplay, a fantastical plot, and incredible costumes and sets. If you haven't seen it, you should, it's fun and funny and freaky, often compared to The Wizard Of Oz too, for its whole "It was all just a dream... Or was it???" premise, but all told, it's definitely the music that seals the deal, composed by Frederick Hollander, it's creative and inventive and playful and occasionally over the top, occasionally sweeping and dramatic, but always totally mesmerizing and catchy, whether goofy and fun and frolicky, or ominous and sinister.
First check out "Ten Happy Fingers", that's the song Dr. T plans on having his kidnapped children play on the giant piano, it's super catchy, and that melody resurfaces throughout, but quickly, the soundtrack shifts, and the orchestra begins to weave gorgeous soundscapes of shimmery strings, and moaning horns, classic soundtrack stuff for sure, epic and majestic and darkly moody, sweeping and soaring, lovely and dreamy and mysterious, there are ballads, "Many Questions" is all torch songy, "Hypnotic Chant" sounds like a classic movie musical duet, but just a little bit twisted, it is the part where Dr. T is hypnotizing the mother after all! Then there's Dr. T's "Do Re Mi" where he sings about his favorite note, which is of course ME. Probably the most famous song is "Dungeon Shlim Shlam" also known as "The Dungeon Ballet", which is one of the best parts of the movie, where all the NON piano players are sent to a dungeon to play, well "What other instruments are there??", so they end up playing all sorts of fantastical made up instruments. "The Dressing Song" is one of the wackier tracks, and the one with the most obviously Seussian lyrics, "Get Together Weather" is another track with Seuss heavy wordplay, and so it goes.
We could go track by track by track, but it's all just so good. Old timey for sure, but a lot of this stuff definitely sounds timeless. And the extras, WOW. The alternate versions are definitely worthwhile, and the liner notes go into extraordinary detail about just how they differ, and why there are multiple versions. And then there are the orchestral tracks, which are gorgeous, so lush and lovely and beautifully orchestrated, but it's the composer sketches and pre production material that we find ourselves listening to more than we expected, low fidelity recordings, very scratchy, but so lovely, just solo piano versions of the various tracks, which speaks to their timelessness, even sans orchestra and vocalists, these songs are incredible, and those skeletal versions definitely offer a unique glimpse into the process. And then of course, for folks who just want to listen to the songs EXACTLY the way they are in the movie, there is a soundtrack cut, with all the extras and cut songs and alternate versions removed, so it plays just like the film.
So incredible, and incredibly curated. A true labor of love. The liner notes are extensive and super interesting, the story of the composer, of the film, and most impressively, track by track notes about each song's placement, and inspiration, and what scene it accompanies in the film. Tons of photos and anecdotes and pretty much anything and everything you could ever want to know about what is quite possibly one of the most enchantingly dreamy AND disturbingly nightmarish kids' films ever. And most definitely one of our all time faves!
Brand new record from these Italian post/avant black metallers, and their first record to get reviewed on the aQ list, which is kind of crazy, considering most of the aQ metalheads have been big fans ever since their debut in 1999. And since that debut, the band has continued to stretch the boundaries of their particular brand of black metal, culminating in this, the single song, ten movement electro black metal concept record that is Psychogrotesque.
Beginning with a bit of creaking industrial ambiance, the record soon launches into a twisted tangled bit of gnarled blackness, blasting beats, chugging riffs, and a swirl of squiggly lead guitars, not to mention little flurries of electronic crunch and glitch, all backed up by choral like voices, and some almost ravey synths, that weirdness is balanced by the croaking lead vocals, and the sinister, minor key melodies, the track swings from churning buzzing blackness, to melodic soaring majesty, to off kilter mathiness and back again. The second movement explodes with some frenzied black metal buzz, but it's swaddled in more synths, the electronic element making it sound alien and futuristic, before shrugging off the synths and delving into some frosty true grim blackness.
And the record just gets weirder and weirder from there on out. The synths competing with the riffs, the arrangements almost orchestral, but instead of woodwinds and brass and strings, it's whirling buzzing keyboards and programmed beats, the vokills are constantly transformed, occasionally becoming a deep dramatic croon, most noticeably in the sixth movement, when those vocals are paired with some Gerry Rafferty style way-out-of-place saxophone, and sure, there's plenty of straight ahead blackness, but there are also jams that sound like black metal Daft Punk, or some bizarre hybrid of the two, and then there's the epic final track that is impossibly epic and twisted, the black metal component furious and frenzied, the over the top electronic bits cranked all the way up, so tense and intense and heavy and twisted and totally bizarre, and be sure to stick around for the hidden final track/coda, strange sampled vocals, over hazy electronic shimmer, the sound gristly and gauzy and darkly mysterious, making us wish they would have kept it going well past its far too brief two minutes.
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We're always happy to get a new release by Agent Ribbons, and it's extra nice to hear the gals stretching their creative limbs on their latest full length. On Chateau Crone, they dish up an impressive patchwork quilt of new tunes with both passion and aplomb. A bit less sugar and playful than their previous outings, and a bit more shadowy, lush, edgy and eclectic - bringing together elements of cabaret, garage rock, '60s Brill Building girl groups, a bit baroque pop, a bit Balkan gypsy too. Once again, they nestle in comfortably alongside the likes of Cocorosie and Ditty Bops, but also to our delight, the Aislers Set! In fact, the vocals at times are a striking deadringer for AS's Amy Linton. You need look no further than the opening track "I'm Alright". Indeed, that's some infectious, smoky, swaggering retro garage poppiness they're slingin' there! For sure, they are as daydreamy and breezy as ever, but occasionally those dreams take a spookier Theremin-laced turn. Very recommended!
Most people probably know Sasha Grey for what she is most (in)famous for, and that would be for being a porn star. Even folks who don't know porn stars might still know Grey as an actress, who recently starred in Steven Soderbergh's film Girlfriend, and has been on HBO's Entourage, but few probably know her as a musician (although aQ customers might remember she sang on a Current 93 record!). And we're not talking cheesy club diva, a la Tracy Lords, crooning terribly over bad house music, no we're talking as a proper musician, one who apparently has been making music since she was a teenager (influenced by KMFDM and Throbbing Gristle), and whose current group aTelecine is some sort of blackened industrial avant drone sound collage thing, that would put most of the current crop of experimental musicians to shame. The label hypes Grey's music as being heavily indebted to groups like Nurse With Wound and Coil, and while we're tempted to think this is just the label trying to make the band seem 'cooler' and more authentic, it only takes a few minutes listening to aTelecine's new full length to realize, it's not all that unlikely. This stuff is dark, and corrosive, haunting and fierce, otherworldly and intense, a little bit industrial, a little ambient, a little witch house-y, a little black metal, doomy and new wavey and seriously dark, a dizzying churning cauldron of field recordings, samples, loops, electronics, distorted guitars, programmed beats, FX drenched vocals, throbbing basslines, plenty of glitch and clang and rumble and buzz.
If you're anything like us it'll just take a single song, the first one we heard (even though this is aTelecine's 3rd or 4th record), the super creepy, super intense "I Came, I Sat, I Departed", a lumbering blackened industrial creep, all downtuned chug, low slung slither, laced with some seriously fucked up and freaky hissed whispery vokills, the sound crunchy and glitchy, but super hypnotic. The song gets more and more chaotic, with anguished howls, more distortion, the song seeming to crumble before our ears into a hellish reverb drenched miasma. Terrifying and incredible.
The rest of the record stacks up pretty well too. "A Cassette Played" is all woozy low end and rumbling bass over snippets of crowd sound, a sort of collaged dark wavey drift, with some super minimal skittery Autechre style fractured beats, a sprawling expansive dronescape, laced with skitter, and ominous synth swells, strangely cinematic keyboards, the sound becoming almost John Carpenter-esque near the end, before slipping directly into "Chroeg Xen", which sounds like Steve Reich or Terry Riley as interpreted by the current crop of retro futurist sci fi new wavers. "Elijah's New Sun" is a fluttering field of hiss and static, of shortwave interference, buried synth pulses, strange processed vocals, and minimal synth melodies way off in the distance.
"It's All Write" is an avalanche of song fragments, woven into a woozy, series of melodic swells, streaks of buzz, bits of sampled voices, a minimal barely there beat, slowly unwinding like some out of focus sonic charnel house. "Kitchen Light" is a surprisingly lovely bloopy bleepy bit of spacey synthiness, while "Never Was A Dreamer (vox)" is a swirling synthy crawl, all whispered tangled voices, and layered shimmery drones. "She Is Beautiful" is another bit of sci fi synthery, which leads into the short closer "Some What Daft", a gorgeous creepy glitchscape, of muted melodies, fractured drones and alien squelches, all over a sort of krauty pulse, the sort of track that we would have loved to see go on way longer. Which is pretty much how we feel about almost every track here.
Sure, the fact that aTelecine is Sasha Grey's band is the hook, but it hardly matters really, besides bucking the convention of actresses turned terrible musician, or certainly porn star gone pointlessly mainstream, this stuff is incredible, dark and dense and extremely well crafted, occasionally playful and mysterious, but more often fucking chilling and intense, and definitely makes it plain for all to see, that if Grey ever did decide to give up her day job, as sad as that would be, at least we'd have more of this amazing music to look forward to.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!
Sad sad news, UK underground heavy/spacey/metallic/psychedelic magazine/compilation Bad Acid is no more. Longtime readers of the aQ list have no doubt enjoyed an issue or two (or three or four) of this sprawling publication, a combination printed zine, and computerized PDF zine, complete with an audio component that usually clocks in at at least 12 hours, sometimes twice that. It's been 10 years, and Bad Acid editor Dave Gedge has a family, and kids, has been losing money (magazines, even ones as amazing as Bad Acid are most definitely a labor of love) and furthermore is a Buddhist, so in addition to simplifying his life, Gedge has simply been burnt out, which is why this final salvo is called The Burnout Issue. And this final issue is the only bit of silver lining, but WHAT a silver lining it is. This final issue is in fact, THREE issues, #10, #11 and #12, and while the printed part might be the most minimal yet, it's more than made up for by the contents of the 3 dvd-r's. This time, the magazine itself is more of an index, as it takes EIGHT pages, in tiny text, to list all the bands and songs and videos and interviews and articles.
As usual, it's split into sections, the first is the PDF magazine, accompanied by music from each band as well as a review of the band's most recent record. Some of the bands in the magazine this time around: Carlton Melton, Aluk Todolo, Bong, Plastic Crimewave Sound, Sylvester Anfang, Residual Echoes, White Hills, Der Blutharsch, GNOD, Jazzfinger, Grey Daturas, Hooded Menace, Necro Deathmort, The Gates Of Slumber, Flood, The Wounded Kings, Full Blown Expansion, Hey Colossus, Ancestral, Isis, Pelican, Scott Kelly of Neurosis, Sutcliffe Jugend, The Accused, Inade, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Atomic Bitchwax, Snail, The Twilight Sad, Ramesses, Ufomammut, Witchsorrow, Assemble Head In Sunburst Sound, Slomatics, Root, Nordvargr, Antonius Rex, Russian Circles, Centurions Ghost, Nebula, Freedom Hawk, Steve Von Till of Neurosis, Leeches Of Lore, Dianogah, Sardonis, Torche, Turzi, Ancestors, L'Acephale, and loads more, including TONS of bands we had never heard of.
The second section is the interviews, and features Meads Of Asphodel, Nadja, Expo 70, Centurions Ghost, Vincent Black Shadow, Gnaw, Unearthly Trance, At War With False Noise, Old Corpse Road, Alice Donut, and more! The next section features label profiles of Denovali, Rocket and Future Noise, featuring loads of recordings from lots of bands on each label.
Then there's a section of bonus audio, with still more tracks, including jams from Sundial, B*Tong, Disappears, Fire Witch, Realmbuilder, Jex Thoth, White Buzz, Rich Hoak, Loscil, Jonas Reinhardt, Fauna, Big City Orchestra, and once again, a whole mess of bands we've never heard.
There's also a bunch of videos, by Total Fucking Destruction, White Hills, Psychofagist and a bunch more, some short films as well, and finally, a section of bonus MP4's, featuring promo videos from Expo 70 and others, and more short films and live footage.
Phew! It's epic and sprawling, and is equal parts rad bands you know and new discoveries. Way recommended for anyone who likes music AT ALL. But definitely Bad Acid leans toward the heavy and the psychedelic and the left of center. So yeah, obviously WAY recommend, and while Bad Acid will continue on in a different, bloggier, form, it just won't be the same, so you best buy this final issue of Bad Acid and add it to that shelf of magazines you keep and treasure and reread...
Another 'witch house' luminary gets their first proper (non cd-r or download) release in the form of this gorgeous 5 song ep. For those who have somehow missed out on the whole witch house thing, it's sort of hard to describe, a new self proclaimed genre that seems to mix electronic music with dark creepy samples, everything slowed down and murky and witchy, ethereal vocals, distorted production, there's already a serious backlash because of the ridiculous witch house hype, which is pretty funny, considering probably all but the very hippest folks have barely even heard any witch house.
We reviewed the debut 12" from oOoOO a few lists back (all the witch house bands tend to have names that borrow heavily from the zapf dingbats font and the special keys on your keyboard), a fantastically dreamy chunk of electronic ghostly minimal dream pop, we also made Salem's King Night our Record of the Week, with its bombastic shoegaze bliss meets chopped and screwed Southern style crunk, but Balam Acab definitely tends toward the former, the two part title track a fuzzy, almost dubsteppy bit of gently glitchy gauziness, angelic vocals, wreathed in reverb, drifting over swirling industrial loops and shimmering synths, the second part totally blissed out and otherworldly, the beats spare and skeletal, the vocals floating on clouds of whirling effects and blurred melody, while in between, basslines buzz ominously, beats careen in slow motion, voices loop and hover, melodies fragment and drift apart, the sound like some eighties MTV pop slowed way down and dipped in drugs and left in the afternoon sun to warm, fuzzy streaks of sound wrapped around stuttery glacial beats, "Big Boy" offering up a hook on par with "See Birds", while "Dream Out" sounds like a warped Kate Bush record playing at 16rpm, while kids play video games in the next room.
Awesome stuff. And we could care less really if the hipster intelligentsia has decided witch house is dead, cuz we're definitely dying to hear more...
Now on vinyl!!
There is something about knowing your sound and keeping your focus which is kind of crucial when you are a band playing very primitive ramshackle DIY folk/punk. The Beets know this so well, in fact right on the cover it says this is a collection of thirteen new songs about staying home. And many of the tracks are in fact about why the world can often make staying in your own room the only viable alternative. They keep all the subject matter very simple yet painfully honest. It's about relationships, regret, fear, longing...all delivered in a way stripped down lo-fi left-field garage pop sound. Following in the tradition of folks like Daniel Johnston, The Shaggs, Half Japanese, Beat Happening and Jonathan Richman, The Beets remind us that when done right, less can be so much more!
Another in Volcom's subscriber's singles club, this one a split (like the Flood / Wildildlife, which we still have a final few copies of) featuring big time aQ faves, sunshiney beach poppers Best Coast, who offer up another blast of hazy, girl group, fuzz pop bliss... rocking and rollicking, windows down, breeze blowing, ice cream melting, the usual boatload of reverb and warm summery harmonies, and of course hooks galore, Bethany's voice in fine form, and the band kicking up a fun fuzzed out dream pop underneath, another practically perfect chunk of washed out dreamy sunshine pop that sounds like it could have been plucked right off their full length.
The big surprise here is Jeff The Brotherhood, who we sort of expected to suck, based on the goofy name, but wow were we wrong, reminding us a lot of classic Weezer or old school noise poppers Further, also SF pop geniuses Ovens, super distorted guitars, weary stoned boy vocals, sweet harmonies, killer hooks, crazy catchy, with some tripped out spacey squiggly FX, pop fanatics will be in heaven, and like us, will probably be scrambling for more from these guys.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES. Each one hand numbered. Pressed on swirly clear pink vinyl. Comes with a download code for JUST the JTB track...
The first thing that is immediately striking about Big Eagle's debut record is the outstanding musicianship. The twangy pedal-steel guitar floats like a dream and might bring salty tears to an eyeball or two; the subtle bass lines never overstep or outshine the lead melodies; the drums hold the songs' foundations with elegantly simple beats. And the vocals! Robyn Miller (formerly of The Peels) does what all the greatest country singers have done: write and sing beautiful songs about death, lust and hopelessness with a grace and dignity unavailable to most human beings. She not only channels Lucinda Williams, though: consciously or not, there's definitely some Chan Marshall and maybe a bit of Joanna Newsom thrown in.
Like Cat Power's album The Greatest, Willow Creek walks the fine line between indie rock and traditional roots music. Even in the titles of the songs, there's a strong dose of Americana: "Colorado," "Mississippi," "For Sale." "Broken Heart" mines the classic theme of heartbreak and has some excellent slow banjo work. "Colorado" is a short requiem, the pedal steel guiding you through the fragments of the best dream you ever had. "For Sale" has a bit more humor, with some clever lyrical wordplay and a playful guitar solo that lasts almost the entire song. The last track, "Bill Robinson's Run," might be the best on the record. The guitar and the banjo spar back and forth, the Hammond organ screams, the breaks are catchy and clever. A truly outstanding record from start to finish. Highly recommended!
We've said it before, we love when our friends make amazing music. The sort of music that transcends the bonds of friendship, that requires none of the obligation that usually accompanies 'friend rock', the sort of music that had you just discovered it, unaware of its provenance, you wouldn't think twice about proclaiming its virtues, blasting it on your iPod nonstop, or if you're us, raving about it on the New Arrivals list.
Burial Tree is the realization of several years of intense work, and is the project of aQ pal Monte and his wife Lauren, along with a few other contributors, and is a mysterious, drone rock epic, a blissed out and darkly brooding record of haunting heaviness and abstract moodiness. A collection of subtly crafted cinematic soundscapes, equal parts Barn Owl psychedelic drift, Neurosis riff heavy crush, Three Mile Pilot post rock lope, and various stops in between.
The record begins with a haunting solo cello rendition of Hank Williams' "Ramblin' Man', transformed into an achingly mournful lament, the perfect lead in to "Secret Arts", a sprawling stretch of minimal black ambience, a lush, layered expanse of layered low end, and softly pulsing synth swells, laced with bits of melody, and warn swirls of sonic sunlight, a slow shifting scene setter for the sounds to come. "The Mysterious Stranger" is a dark twang flecked bit of Earth-y post rock, the guitars spidery and minor key, the drums busy and intricate, the strings soaring and swirling, all over a bed of subtle synth shimmer, eventually big riffs swoop in, and things get a bit metallic, with some killer stop/start dynamics, rife with synth squiggles and spaced out FX. A driving, hypnotic, subtly proggy, spaced out dirge rock, that shifts from dense distorted crunch to minimal lope and back again. And it's during those loping minimal bits that the sound reminds us of vintage Three Mile Pilot, the thick bass suspended over deep swirling space, paranoid and hauntingly ominous.
"The Bringer Of Light" mirrors the melodies from the song before it, making it feel like a sort of second movement, it's reverby contemplative drift sounding like some nineties slowcore combo via desert rockers Scenic, very evocative, barren landscapes, wide open skies, shadows moving slowly across the ground, here too, the strings do the heavy melodic lifting, while the drums and guitar weave a skeletal framework, sounding like something that wouldn't have been out of place on Thrill Jockey back in the day. The track builds to a swirling psychedelic climax, all pounding drums and swirling synths, before fading into another bit of smoldering dronemusic, a spacey effects heavy stretch of whirring Moogs and looped FX, blurred into gauzy bits of fragmented melody, and thick, softly undulating layers of washed out blackness.
"Conjuring Demons" is another post rocker that takes the spare bass heavy, spidery melodies of 3MP and weds them to some more arid spacious desert rock, another haunting excursion into abstract instrumental meander, the stings here adding color and texture, the main guitar riff memorable enough to stay lodged in your head, the drums eventually dropping off, leaving just the strings over a barely there bit of deep rumbling shimmer. The record finally winds down with the gorgeous title track, the cello played so lyrically, the melodies melancholy and mournful, wrapped around muted chiming melodies, and a strange distant insectoid buzz, a dark, emotional threnody, the sound of the sun disappearing beneath the horizon, the moon vanishing behind the clouds, the fire dying to embers in the hearth, the stars fading into the blackness of space. So nice.
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES. Each one hand numbered. And each one with a printed cover, and a screen printed insert, printed by a real live WIZARD!
On the same label that released the recent Monster Magnet tour only 10" (a label run by the band themselves), comes this, the debut release from Capricorn, which is the brainchild of current Monster Magnet axeman Phil Caivano, and pretty much sounds just how you might expect, some mix of MM, Kiss, Motorhead and Raging Slab, fat distorted bass, big heavy riffage, a little bit glammy, a little bit arena rock, but a bit more heavy and crusty and low slung, with gruff growled vox, big choruses, killer super melodic eighties metal style leads, all wound into two classic sounding jams, that should most definitely appeal to fans of ANY of the above mentioned outfits.
Be quick though, LIMITED TO JUST 100 COPIES, we got a tiny handful, not sure if we can get more...
We barely knew anything about Andrew Cedermark, other than that his record is on Underwater Peoples, whose releases we tend to dig, and that he was in Titus Andronicus, a band we never really liked all that much. In this case, it seems UP trumps TA, cuz this is a gorgeous slab of home brewed noisy shoegazey twang flecked dream pop. The production is super hot, a little blown out, the guitars buzz and jangle, the drums are distorted, but super minimal, and the songs, while somewhat understated and minimal, are peppered with bursts of distorted guitar, or lush squalls of swirling psychedelia, or blasts of sun dappled noisiness.
Simple steel string guitars, and plaintive vocals drift beneath clouds of explosive prismatic guitar, the drums locked into an almost techno like pulse. The sounds crashing and chaotic, but still warm and lush and melodic. Rocking yet introspective, these songs build slowly and then gloriously crumble before our ears, alternatingly personal and intimate, ramshackle and rambunctious, often impossibly swerving between the two, swoonsome garage rock collides with precious dreamfolk, before blossoming into a fantastical effects drenched noise pop. Synths add strange sireny color to some of the tracks, wood block percussion and tinkling chimes do as well, and it's precisely the balance between Cedermark's earnest and heartfelt pop songs, and his fractured kitchen sink soundscaping, that make Moon Deluxe so goddamn good. Hard to think of bands to compare this too, which is definitely a good thing, just listen to the sound samples, we're betting you'll be as smitten as we are...
Along with the insanely limited tape-and-bones-in-a-wooden-coffin from blackdoom horde OS (which is most likely already sold out), we also have this, the lp debut from Charnel House, a similarly blackened and doomy offshoot of the OS mothership, but with an added witchy element in the form of some demonic priestess vocals...
The sound though is not hugely removed from that of OS, the riffs are murky and muddy and doomy, the tempo, at least at first is a slithery, lumbering creep, the percussion on the opening track doesn't even sound like drums, instead it sounds like a field recording of a passing freight train, which only makes it that much weirder and cooler, the result is some sort of abstract slowcore minimal doom, but those female vocals, definitely add another element, transforming it into something much more haunting and melodic instead of just sludgey and crusty.
But CH are much more likely to erupt into full on blasting black metal, albeit a BM filtered through their own particularly cracked and filthy take on the sound, which renders the blast and buzz more washed out and chaotic, blurred and smeared, the beats, when you can hear them, either sound NOT like beats at all, like the freight train rhythm of the first track, or they're mostly buried under the roiling blackness above.
And so it goes, the band shifting from that murky black crush, to more crusty minimal black doom plod, the drumming getting super strange and abstract when you can hear it, otherwise just adding to the general chaos, the slower bits are rife with soaring melodies and deep sonic swells, sometimes, leaving just ghostly ambience and those witchy vocals, just as often transforming into a murky cinematic warped and woozy drone-doom, or exploding back into another stretch of blasting chaotic blackness.
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES, each one hand numbered, housed in cool folded textured paper silkscreened covers.
The return of weirdo Finnish black metal outsiders Circle Of Ouroborus, whose sound continues to mutate, and move well beyond the bounds of black metal. In fact, the opening track here sounds like some lost eighties minimal synth wave jam, with it's weezing keyboards, reverbed Teutonic percussion, and dual vocals, one crooned, the other spoken, all the folks who have been snapping up the vinyl reissues on Dark Entries might be surprised and converted to the way of CoO. The sound is super saturated and ultra distorted, in a way that makes it sound warm and whirling and washed out.
The follow up track is ostensibly more black metal, but it mostly just ups the tempo and wraps the guitars in a little blackened buzz, but the vocals are still cold and crooned, the sound fantastically murky, the crashing climaxes causing the sound to buckle and crumble, a propulsive bit of cold wave punkishness. The rest of CoO's half of this split follows suit, from brooding minimal crush, to loping meandery murk, the vocals atonal and bordering on Anton Maiden-ish at times, but just as often lush and gorgeously crooned, accompanied by a sound that while constantly distressed and distorted, veers from washed out brittle shimmer, to thick molasses-y mush, but always minor key and melancholy and moody, and just like all the other Circle of Ouroborus releases, twisted, and bafflingly brilliant.
Some of you probably remember the group Frail, who we described as sounding exactly like the Cure, just with harsh black metal vokills. Well Frail has transformed into Crooked Necks, and guess what? They still sound just like the Cure, new wave-y and jangly, a little dark wavey and goth poppy, the guitars chiming, the bass all Joy Divisiony, the drums propulsive and motorik, and of course the vocals, still harsh occasionally, but also, clean crooning here and there. The new sound is slightly more polished, still quite melodic, the perfect match for Circle Of Ouroborus's new more gothy cold wave-y sound. There are some heavier more black metal moments, but it's more like Lifelover style black metal pop than traditionally blasting and buzzing grimness, and the rest of Crooked Necks' sound could have been lifted straight off some goth rock / eighties new wave mix tape, The Cure, Echo And The Bunnymen, Icicle Works, if it wasn't for the vocals, these guys could be on Captured Tracks or Sacred Bones, and could be opening for Cold Cave or Blessure Grave, hell, maybe they still could be...
We've been consistently impressed with past Immune releases including Expo 70's latest Where Does Your Mind Go? and Steven R. Smith's Cities. So it's no surprise this debut release from Chicago duo Cleared is another noteworthy addition to the Immune catalog. Cold, bleak and utterly gorgeous long tone music from Steven Hess, a member of On, Haptic and Ural Umbo, and Michael Vallera, a solo artist who has released numerous recordings on Complacency Records and Catholic Tapes, to name a few. Champions of the blurred, electronic soundscape, the duo patiently craft five carefully composed pieces that recall the melodic density of Wolfgang Voigt's GAS in cahoots with the percussive, noise-dub antics of the late Yellow Swans. Sweeping washes of white noise, field recordings slowed down and filtered through an opaque haze, veils of distant synth tones reflecting white light and cold tones into the night air. Chiming bells and glistening echoes offer a gentle lull into an utterly grey world. Cleared certainly deliver the dense, gleaming walls of droney, melodic wash that we can't get enough of, but there is a fragile quality to this self-titled debut, an attention to melodic detail. This focus on detail, in combination with a keen rhythmic sensibility filtered through an industrial lens, results in what we'll call spectral dub. A disoriented pairing of urban decay against fog-shrouded landscapes, visions of grey, snow covered roads and ghost inhabited warehouses, abandoned suburbia under a moonless sky.
While most of the album's percussive elements remain masked in distortion, reverb and filth, "False Mornings" reveals the only shinning glimpse of an apparent drum kit. Rolling toms, splashing cymbals, hypnotic repetition and creepy synth-craft guide the slow-paced procession into the bleak caves of the 'Occult-kraut' underworld. Limited to an edition of 500 lps on top quality white vinyl, don't miss out on this ghostly gem. �
The rabid response to Drag City's monumental release of Death's For The Whole World To See - a lost classic if there ever was one - had people everywhere foaming at the mouth for MORE MORE MORE Death. It was really hard to believe that such a primal and emotive slab of heavy punkish rock n' roll could have gone UNRELEASED since its 1975 recording, nor that there could be even MORE in the vaults. Yet astonishingly, Drag City have once again come through with this awesome collection of demo tracks from these Detroit rockers - the brothers Hackney - recorded by the band in their practice space between 1974-1976, some of which served as preproduction for the album proper. The sound here is raw, upfront, and bullshit-free, and like FTWWTS, quite a revelation when one considers the state of rock music before punk exploded. While comparing these guys to Bad Brains may seem a bit cynical at first - ya know, both being all-black rock bands seeming to exist in a world of their own - it really is an apt comparison, especially if anyone is familiar (as they should be) with the Bad Brains' demo album Black Dots. Like those songs, the sound here is swinging and kinda loose without too much fuzz or distortion muddying things up. There are definite nods to the heavier sounds of the late '60s/early '70s (think Alice Cooper, Sabbath, etc.) AND the Beatles ("The Masks" shifting from mean power chords into a brilliant, scuzzed out appropriation of "Got To Get You Into My Life"), and throughout there is a surprising melodicism (check out the tuneful guitar workout of "The Change") and vocals that often rise into the manic screams we all loved from the album proper. The brothers seem to know exactly where to take things, which isn't surprising considering they had been jamming together since the '60s. The lyrics are also awesome, focusing on the state of the world and where things might be heading. There's also some in-the-practice space experimenting thrown in at the end, hinting at possible directions the band unfortunately never headed in before dissolving.
While this might not be For The Whole To See Pt. II, it is nonetheless an essential slab of proto-punk greatness by a band who is finally getting their due, and we couldn't be happier to have this in our dirty little hands. YEAH!
How do you make a record that is your most unique, ambitious and weird, but also your most accessible at the same time? How, after ten albums are you still able to create an album that sounds so damn refreshing, creative and full of new ideas? There aren't really answers to these questions, except for the fact that you are Deerhoof. How after all these years they've maintained their artistic creativity, yet been able to explore new avenues, techniques and approaches along the way, still boggles themind. With their first non Kill Rock Stars full length in almost a decade, Deerhoof make Polyvinyl proud with one of the most far reaching, exciting and enjoyable albums we've heard in ages.
Further pushing their love of sounds and music from across the globe, Vs. Evil finds Deerhoof taking those sounds and with them exploring an awesome psychedelic spy soundtrack vibe, as well as a twisted take on sparkling teenage pop music, all of which displays a band at their most sensual, surprising and innovative.
Deerhoof most deserve all the love and adoration they seem to be receiving, and we are hoping this is the record that will push them to that next level, alongside folks like The Flaming Lips, Radiohead, etc., as we can't think of a more creative or exciting band that has paid their dues and stayed true to their mission of all out creativity and sonic excellence!
Finally, Demdike Stare's dark and dizzying, murky and mysterious hauntological black dub triptych, previously available via three separate slabs of vinyl, is now available on cd, gathered up into a single, nicely packaged triple disc set. And loaded with bonus tracks (nearly 40 minutes extra all told), which makes this pretty much a shoe-in for Record Of The Week...
Demdike Stare are one of the few bands who seem to be a unanimous aQ favorite, everyone here LOVES these guys, and judging on how many of the various lps we've sold, everyone out there does too. Which makes sense, when you consider, DS basically create a kind of black metal dubstep, or as we (and others) like to describe it, a blackened dub record on Chain Reaction. Either one should give you an idea of the sort of dark sonic energy these guys conjure up. Thick claustrophobic atmospheres, skeletal rhythms, thick throbbing bass, skittering dubbed out beats, disembodied voices, stuttering minimal sort-of-dubstep, looped and processed African folk music (??), swirling glitched out electronics, deeeep pulsing dronemusic, reverb drenched post-rock-via-techno skitter, all woven into a swirling organic mass of dub flecked blacktronica, dark and sinister and dubby, and weirdly house-y, sprawling and epic and creepy and so totally sweeping and cinematic.
The first disc, Forest Of Evil, was originally two sidelong tracks, the first starts out all deep shimmer, with a softly melodic buzz, spidery acoustic guitars, long stretches of billowy black ambience, bits of shuffly jazzy drift, peppered with thick shards of buzzy fractured dub bass and Kompakt style skitter, giving way to glistening late night techno, whirling pop ambient, and blissed out ethereal dronemusic, while the second is darkly dramatic, epic and majestic, like some lost Italian soundtrack, big drums, orchestral and ominous, looped samples, blurred melodic smears over deep pulsing bass, whirling clouds of cymbal shimmer, insectoid FX buzz, jumbled atonal melodies (hints of Bernard Herrmann), the vibe tense and haunting, with some dubstep bass buzz, that slowly dissolves into a Caretaker like outro, all layered strings wreathed in hiss and crackle, hazy and druggy and divine. The bonus track "Quiet Sky" conjures up just what the title implies, a quiet sky, but a dark, bruised midnight sky, flecked with stars, soft swirls of metallic shimmer like gauzy clouds, the song gradually developing a strange minimal hiccuppy rhythm, underpinning the deep melancholic swells, a strange almost industrial tinged bit of pop ambience.
The second disc, Liberation Through Hearing, is thematically related to the Book Of The Dead, and focuses on the space between death and rebirth. Rendered in greys and blacks, in buzz and rumble, beginning with some woozy late night Portishead style downtempo trip hop, low slung looped skitter and swell, lush swirls of cinematic strings, ghostly choirs, a softly lurching rhythmic stutter, a deep cavernous throb, sounding like a ghostly stripped down dubstep. Which gives way to heaving expanses of black tidal thrum, muted scrapings, all wound into hypnotic pulses of dark energy, laced with distant chiming melodies, a haunting, gauzey faded memory in sound, drawn from radios with dying batteries and gradually slowing turntables, a soft focus symphony of creaks and rumbles and blurred low end shimmer. The first half finishes with a swoonsome smear of looped ambience, like a field recording of an after hours nightclub captured in a temporal loop, warm and druggy and fuzzy, strangely hypnotic and rhythmic, totally trancelike, a creeped out wasteland soundscape, mysterious and chilling, which is eventually augmented by thick slabs of corrosive low end, and heavily reverbed industrial clatter, which eventually emerges into a strange sea of crackle and hum, of warbly rhythms, chiming bells and distorted crunch, sounding a bit like Jeck spinning Pole record, abstract and spaced out and hauntingly lovely.
The second half opens with thick streaks of ghostly mesmer, all washed out and slowly decaying, underpinned by thick swaths of dubstep style bass wobble, but muted and smoothed into soft smears of undulating blackness. Subtle skitter surfaces, as do distant voices, the sound getting more and more dubby, a bit like a Caretaker record on Chain Reaction, that sort of hazy abstract drift, but anchored to barely there beats, the buzz building to an intense coda, all the while wrapped in throbbing woofer punishing low end.
Some super stripped down rhythms are laid over a swirling ghostly backdrop of fragmented melodies and a buried house music thump, tangled and blurred strings wrap the proceedings in a veil of softened reverb and subtle echo, the almost Eastern sounding pulse and swell reminding us a bit of the late great Muslimgauze.
Finally, the record collapses into some sort of melancholic sonic reverie, a hushed ambient outro, a tranquil sea of soft swirling swells, clouds of echo and reverb, a dreamy darkness, a blackened bit of blurpop minimalism, laced with muted streaks of fuzz and hiss, but all gradually sinking into Demdike Stare's endless trancelike billowing blackness.
The bonus tracks on this one (3 of them, clocking in at nearly 20 minutes) continue the record's surreal sonic journey, spidery rhythms, and chiming melodies are looped and layered over a simple pulsing propulsive groove, the whole thing slightly warped and warbled, as if recorded onto an old piece of tape, and played back on some dusty old ramshackle tape player, ghostly, but surprisingly playful at first, before slipping into some seriously creepy, deeeeeep droning rumbles, wreathed in shimmering solar winds, softly billowing sheets of hiss and static, eventually shedding all of that, leaving just a thick morass of softly undulating low end, shot through with a slo-mo house music pulse, only to have the hiss and whir return, this time relegated to the background, until the track finishes surprisingly with what sounds like a bit of African style funkiness, before disappearing in a brief cloud of swirling hushed buzz.
Finally, the third disc, Voices Of Dust, unveils the Tryptych's final movement, opening with "Black Sun", a short stretch of some super minimal electronic dronemusic, all layered overtones and strange sonic shadings, which gives way to the chopped and looped and stuttery vocal driven "Hashshashin Chant" which takes tribal drums and traditional folk music vocals, and twists them all up, and tangles those elements with strange percussion, industrial buzz, the whole thing a dizzying chunk of hypno-electronic collaged psychedelic mashup weirdness, before slipping into the much murkier and minimal "Repository Of Light", which unfurls like some sort of Hawkwind-meets-Pole spaced out digi-dub drift. And so it goes, the sound flitting between impossibly realized miniature sound worlds, cinematic electronic ambience, ominously pulsing low end rumble, hazy glitchy dubbed out Jeckian smears, super blown out electronic big beat bombast, almost industrial sounding avant big band abstraction, roiling corrosive soft noise, bellowing foghorn-like melodies, warped and woozy scratchy old lp warblescapes and beyond.
The bonus tracks are the perfect, hazy, ghostly coda, the first, a warm, whispery bit of keening abstract melody and thick pulsing thrum, all very washed out and space-y and dreamlike, a constantly vibrating living thing, a throbbing organic expanse of minimal space drone psychedelic ambience, until finally, the whole disc is laid to rest with 9 minutes of heaving, glacial, metallic creep and creak, wreathed in record crackle, the final sounds unfurl like some old dusty Tim Hecker 45 spinning at 16rpm, mournful moaning melodies, buried rhythmic thumps, shimmery sitar like buzz, all hazy and smeared and lysergic and mysteriously murky, the perfect slipping-into-darkness, leaving-this-world-behind finale...
Gorgeously evocative, creepy and cinematic, abstract and otherworldly, druggy and dreamy, fantastically haunting and utterly spine tinglingly stunning. And thus, absolutely recommended.
Packaged in a super swank, oversized, hardcover book style digipak.
Despite his usual laidback West Coast-y '70s mellowness, Destroyer's Dan Bejar is keepin' the '80s vibe alive in more ways than one on this album. He keeps a steady groovin' pace with mid-tempo electronic drum beats, and swoons along with synth sequences and saxophone lines. Sounds like he even scooped the hook from OMD's "Enola Gay" on "Savage Night At The Opera", doncha think? Fans will be happy to find his unmistakable, cryptic lyrical chops still intact though. His tales always leave us gently scratching our heads in slightly bewildered but gleeful wonder!
A short time ago we heard that he had decided not to release any more music. We were pretty damn sad to hear that, but at the same time had a full respect and appreciation for his decision to do so. Then he put out a collaboration with Tim Hecker and Loscil (Archer on the Beach / Grief Point 12"), and now this full length. So, we're not quite sure where he stands on the subject at this point. Mind you, it is called Kaputt, so??? Maybe he's gonna be like KISS, and keep comin' back for more... his band name is Destroyer after all. Heh heh!
Record #2 from Chicago's murky psychlords Disappears. The sound here isn't so much a drastic departure from the band's previous Lux album as it is a logical extension (dig the similarly minimal artwork). While being tuneful and catchy, Disappears also come off as a bit tougher than many of their contemporaries, thanks in part to Brian Case's shouty monotone (in a good way) vocals and an overall... uh, "beefiness" that many bands of this ilk are seriously lacking. Guider wraps listeners in a warm blanket of analog fuzz with the pounding krauty rhythms and hella reverb that we can't get enough of. The band locks into a groove and takes you on a pleasantly rocking journey that you can also shake your ass and swagger to. Check it out!
Hard to believe, but this is the very first release from Dolphins Into The Future that we've managed to get enough of to review and list. That's after about a bajillion cd-r's and tapes and limited lps, in fact this is actually a repress of an lp we missed out on the first time around, but heck, if we missed out on it, odds are some of you did too.
Dolphins Into The Future operate in the same orbit as James Ferraro and Monopoly Child Star Searchers, Explorers and High Wolf, and all the other similarly sonic minded floorcore combos, crafting druggy lysergic soundscapes made up of primitive synths, and analog loops, tape manipulation and malfunctioning samplers, and while each of those bands definitely has their own method, and methodology, Dolphins mainman (and only man) Lieven Martens seems to take his moniker seriously, not only incorporating the sounds of dolphins and the surf and seagulls, but also creating a sound that evokes undersea life, as much as we can imagine it. On the surface, it's a synthy new agey drift, all warm whirling soft focus melodies, steel drum like tones, washed out synth swirl, tranquil melodies and dreamlike drift, like an updated slightly more avant version of those old meditation tapes you might find in a new age bookstore, which, we would imagine is precisely what Martens and his sonic compatriots are going for. That said, for every bit of super simple new age shimmer, there's a bit of crumbing, weirdly looped crunch, or warped woozy almost Oval like swoon, all the sounds, on this record at least, held together by the sound of life on the shore, or on the deck of a boat, these slowly unfurling new age-scapes, are lush and laid back, minimal and mysteriously lovely, and the perfect soundtrack to bright sun, blue water and not a care in the world...
Yeah, they're named after an Electric Wizard record, and while they definitely share some Wizardisms with their namesake, groovy Sabbathy riffage, and low slung stoner doom swing, their brand of drug fueled slo-mo sludge seems to owe more to bands like Eyehategod or Bongzilla, although the tempos get cranked well beyond either of those groups' preferred BPM's. The riffs are total stoner rock nirvana, big and thick and groovy and catchy, occasionally getting crunchy and chuggy, the drums muscley and pounding, the most interesting thing are the super processed almost black metal sounding vox, which definitely transform the sound into something else entirely. Which is one of the things that makes these guys tough to pin down. Opener "Demonsmoke" is total downtuned Sabbathy sludge, while "Abraxis" sounds almost like classic rock, and then "Wizard's Sleeve" gets all woozy and wah wah guitared, a wasted druggy lope, and "Power Violence Forever" is just super rocking and hooky, and "Legalize Murder" has some bad ass wailing leads, and gorgeous harmonized guitars, and minus those harsh vox sounds like Nebula or something.
Dopethrone lace their songs with plenty of samples, most about drugs of course, and those vocals definitely tie everything together, and help make these guys sound different than the rest of their stoner/sludge brethren, and make this one of our new favorite chunks of slow and low heaviness.
If you dig Electric Wizard, Eyehategod, Bongzilla, Grief, Sleep, Green Machine, Buzzov*en, Kyuss, Acrimony, Sourvein and all that downtuned druggy Sabbathy stuff, odds are you're gonna love this...
El Michels Affair and Budos Band should have some crazy battle of the amazing modern soul/funk bands sometime, because both groops are such heavy hot groovers in their own takes on instrumental soul/funk. Last time we heard from El Michels Affair they were interpreting the work of Wu Tang Clan in a way that was strong and soulful and not at all some sort of gimmick. They have returned, doing the same to the amazing music of Isaac Hayes, paying tribute to him by interpreting his songs (both his hits and more obscure tracks) in such a rich and free flowing way. They don't try to mimmick the originals, instead they really do inject a new vibe and energy into them, and they help remind us all that Isaac Hayes was much more than just Shaft, or a cartoon character on South Park, but in fact one of the most brilliant musical minds of our time. This sizzles and burns with such delight! Some parts remind us of the slinky grooves on that Xero soundtrack by Rockford Kabine.
What is it about this new Electric Wizard record? Don't get us wrong, we are longtime worshippers at the altar of the 'Wiz, but for some reason, this new one, has everyone around here freaking out, even the more non-metal folks, ESPECIALLY the non-metal folks. People who normally don't spend much time listening to witchy druggy demon conjuring sonic rituals, like those practiced by EW, suddenly can't get enough and play it EVERY day. We've tried to get to the bottom of it, cuz Black Masses doesn't seem that far removed from any of the other EW's, but it must be. Cuz it's cast some serious bongsmoke spell (smell?) over pretty much everyone here, which if anything is a good argument for the power of this slab of post Sabbathy psychedelic spaced out drugdoom heaviness.
Everything we love about Electric Wizard is in full effect here: the epic slabs of downtuned doomy crunch, the swirled clouds of lysergic effects, the crushing riffage, the thick pulsing bass, and of course EW high priest Just Oborn's wailing vox, all wound into druggy doomy trancelike jams, the vocals repeated mantralike, the guitars churning and roiling, totally hypnotic and mesmerizing, spaced out and impossibly catchy.
One difference this time around is the production. It's way less obviously heavy, less downtuned and sludgey, the low end is dialed way back, the sound much more raw and trebly and high end, which maybe makes it sound less metal and more psychedelic and garagey, although it definitely sounds like plenty of both to us. But perhaps that's the mysterious component that suddenly has everyone in its thrall.
The record is rife with the (un)usual sonic filigree, swirling winds, loads of effects, long drawn out dirgey drones, bizarre samples, voices, laughter, loops, film clips, all laced within long drawn out psychedelic space jams, the sort of freakouts that would sound just as at home on a Monster Magnet or Hawkwind record, but they always eventually find their way back to whatever satanic drug doom groove they had been exploring before they drifted off.
Heavy and doomy and druggy and psychedelic and seriously tripped out and apparently not just for metalheads anymore. A unanimous aQ fave for sure...
Housed in a fancy embossed slipcover! (Vinyl version sadly has not yet materialized here, we're hoping someday but dunno what's up...)
Probably best known for their legendary mash up fusing the a cappella vocals from a Public Enemy song to a jam by Herb Alpert And The Tijuana Brass, this lawsuit baiting plunderphonic duo return with a new record of twisted samples, mutated mashups, and a sure fire way to fend off lawsuits (which will come in handy, since on this album they fuck up a Beatles track, quite brilliantly, more on that in a moment), but how exactly does the ECC expect to insulate themselves from the teams of entertainment lawyers who will no doubt be knocking down their doors? Simple. By legally and contractually forbidding you, the listener, to listen to their record. What? Yep, it's right there, TWICE in fact, an audio contract stating that by listening to the record, you have broken a binding legal contract, and thus the ECC are absolved of any wrongdoing. Pretty genius, especially considering by listening to the contract, you're already breaking said contract. Who knows it if would actually hold up in court, but pretty dang funny nonetheless, and since we already broke the contract by listening to the record, well, heck, we might as well tell you what it sounds like.
Our favorite might have to be "What Would You Think If I Sang Autotune", which uses the oft abused Autotune program for what it was originally deigned for, to subtly tweak vocals to change their pitch and 'autotune', them, but here, instead of shifting the vocals so they're IN tune, they take a Beatles song, and do nothing but nudge the vocals slightly out of tune, turning a classic into a cringeworthy exercise in terrible karaoke. Then there's "Stairway To Britney" which finds Ms. Spears groaning and crooning over Zeppelin's "Stairway To Heaven", and it's a surprisingly good fit.
Or maybe "California Dreamings" which seems to take about a million different cover versions of "California Dreaming" cuts em up into little parts and weaves them together into a schizophrenic ADD cover version. Or "Fock It" which melds Herbie Hancock's 'Rockit" and the surprisingly similar sounding "Axel F Theme" from Beverly Hills Cop. And so it goes, a dizzying head spinning mix of samples, and chopped up beats, voices, and sound snippets, each song a plunderphonic mash up of epic proportions, groovy, funky, twisted, stuttery, confusional, baffling and brilliant.
The cd version includes a second computer data disc, with high quality MP3 files of the record as well as album length commentary tracks, outtakes, remixable song versions and more!
Debut release from local lo-fi minimal bedroom synth poppers Exray's, and it comes in the form of one of the most lavishly packaged cassette tapes we've seen in AGES.
Born of now defunct SF twang-flecked classic rock / folk combo Ray's Vast Basement, the Exray's duo, craft short sharp slabs of synth soaked minimal pop, the keyboards wheezing and shimmering, the programmed rhythms sparse and skeletal, the vocals weary and laid back, the Sparklehorse vibe of RVB still in full effect, but here cast more in the form of the woozy, languid vocalizing, which perfectly balances the warm mechanical pop, which itself is rife with little bits of twang, and classic FM radio melodies, while the sound itself shifts from crisp and cool, to warm and wonderfully muted and murky, an ever shifting blend of classic pop/rock songsmithery and home brewed electronics, the sound dusty and worn, dreamy and sun dappled, an old timey vision of the future, modern music crafted through unmodern means, really really cool
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Each one hand numbered. The J-card full color, spray painted metallic silver on the outside, and elaborately lazer cut, leaving all sorts of geometric cut outs, revealing different colors and panels, includes a tiny triangle insert with the link to an mp3 download.
Warehouse find! Dug up just three copies of this sprawling psychedelic epic, formerly a tour only cd-r from these tripped our psych rocking Danes, it was expanded with 30 minutes of extra material, and pressed on two slabs of vinyl, a 4 sided psychedelic free for all, murky, swirly, lysergic. blurred and druggy and wildly amorphous, heaving slabs of smoldering sound oozing into clouds of tinkling percussion, the sound ritualistic and primitive, loose and free, chanted wordless vocals, deep low end thrum, smears of feedback, squalls of soft cacophony, occasional dreamy bits of ethereal drift, the whole thing woozy and washed out and gloriously abstract and spaced out, hits of Avarus and Sylvester Anfang abound, but these guys take those sounds and melt them down into something much more gooey and viscous and potent. Rad stuff for sure. Packaged in a super deluxe full color gatefold sleeve. LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
Released in 1973, Make Up was the final album (not counting their recent, and unfortunately disappointing, reunion disc) from these '70s Japanese heavy psych rock gods, a gatefold double LP packaged extravagantly in a stitched, brown faux-leather case! (This compact disc reissue replicates the look of the original, the cds in a gatefold sleeve inside a slipcover, complete with lyric sheet insert). Despite the fancy packaging, this artifact doesn't make Julian Cope's Japrocksampler Top 50, in fact he rather pans it, calling it "useless" and a "disastrous hotchpotch" (it was assembled from recordings from an ill-fated live concert as well as studio demos). However, it must be said that we don't always agree with Mr. Cope. While it may be that Make Up isn't FTB's most essential album, we think any fan will dig it. If it's perhaps a document of the Flower Travellin' Band succumbing to typical '70s dinosaur rock band excess, a la Led Zeppelin (double album, extended soloing, and a '50s rock n' roll cover), that's not necessarily a bad thing! While you need Satori first, your FTB collection will be lacking without this.
Disc one contains six songs, some studio, some live, including the rockin' title track, all of which provide singer Joe Yamanaka (FTB's not-so-secret weapon) with plenty of opportunity to wow us with his distinctive wail. FTB's more mellow, pop side is definitely on display here, with the gentle epic "Look At My Window", the bluesy, balladic "Shadows Of Lost Days", and the sad "Broken Strings" all probably prompting lighter-raising among concert goers. Heavier fare there is too, the aforementioned "Make Up", plus the ornate chug of "Slowly But Surely", and ominous opener "All The Days". We name checked Led Zep, but it's Deep Purple that FTB more likely resemble on this disc, what with the keyboards of guest Nobuhiko Shinohara.
Disc two is where this set gets really indulgent, starting off as it does with a 25 minute live version of "Hiroshima" (only 5:13 in its original version on their previous album, Made In Japan, padded out here with a lengthy drum solo, of which we heartily approve). Heck, "Hiroshima" could go on for hours and hours as far as we're concerned, since it's chock full of the type of slightly sinister, blown-out riffage that today's stoner rockers try their hardest to recreate. In fact, thinking about it, this sounds a hell of a lot like AQ faves Los Natas! That's followed by another live track, a somewhat incongruous cover of "Blue Suede Shoes", with FTB producer (and former Group Sounds star) Yuya Uchida on vocals. This seems to the sort of thing that turned Cope off from this album, but we've seen footage of early Black Sabbath covering this tune too, so we'll let it slide. And in any event, that roots maneuver is followed by a rendition of FTB's own classic "Satori Pt. 2", ten tribally-rhythmic minutes of sinuous psych with Joe at his piercing best, a hard rock rock n' roll showman as shaman if there ever was one. And the drifting, semi-acoustic, spaced out "After The Concert" that winds things up wordlessly and beautifully can't be the cause of any of Cope's complaints.
In any case, all you proto-metalheads and acid psych loving Japanophiles can decide for yourself, thanks to this new reissue (a limited, numbered edition, by the way).
This is a collection of non-LP singles released between 1965-1968. Featuring many of the tracks which make up the Comic Strip collection released here in the states. Classics include: "Bonnie and Clyde" & "Comic Strip" (both with Brigitte Bardot), "Ford Mustang", "Qui est In� Qui est Out�", "Bloody Jack" and "Docteur Jekyll et Monsieur Hyde", among others. Not necessary for those
We can't think of a better match for the Latitudes series than Gang Gang Dance. As the New York genre blurring group has been one of the most consistently creative and risk taking bands to emerge in the last decade. We've been so excited with their evolution over the years and this new 15 minute track finds them expanding on ideas of multi culture/multi genre jamming in a way that feels like an awesome updated version of what Brian Eno & David Byrne were doing on My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts, or what some rad amalgamation of Arto Lindsey, Cabaret Voltaire, Black Dice and Malcolm Mclaren might sound like.
The track starts out with a hypnotizing mix of psychedelic electronics swirling, pulsating and keeping us in a sparkling trance. It then breaks into a grime influenced breakdown as urgent and powerful as it is colorful and danceable. Damn they pack a lot into these 15 minutes, what a fucking epic song!
Our foreign language skills have always sucked; and as such, the bulk of this book from the exemplary (if bafflingly under documented) sound artist Michael Gendreau is completely lost on us. Gendreau is an acoustician by day and architectural rumbler by night; but this San Francisco denizen has long been an avid practitioner of the obscure literary form known as parataxis. Defined as the juxtaposition of various (often short and possibly disparate) clauses without any conjunctions or subordinating forms, the more obtuse forms of this type of literature became well developed first through Ezra Pound and expounded upon by Samuel Beckett. For many years now, Gendreau has been penning his thoughts in parataxis; and now the Swiss publishing house Rip On/Off has released a collection of his writings... but they've translated all his texts into French, meaning that we have no idea what this book is all about. Rip On/Off has also published writings from GX Jupitter-Larsen and Zbigniew Karkowski (also translated into French!), to give you an idea of what brilliantly daft ideas are abound in Switzerland.
BUT!!! There is a CD that accompanies the book, documenting a handful of unreleased recordings, some of which were culled from live presentations and others manipulated field recordings. Throughout these recordings, Gendreau is drawing heavily upon the tools of his trade as an acoustician, as he uses incredibly sensitive microphones and accelerometers to pick up the smallest of vibrations and textures. Unlike contact microphones which abstract and compress the sounds in a totally amazing way, Gendreau's gear is eerily clean... so that the rumble of truck against a huge metal door that he's recording would pick up all of the vibrations of the springs, the subtle creaking, and the deep deep deep resonant thrum of the metal itself.
Compositionally, Gendreau is one to lull the listener into sense of stasis (not really calm, as many of his rumbling drones are really heavy on the subharmonics) before rupturing that with elements of tactile noise and dissonant blasts. One can think more to the subaquatic ruminations of G*Park, the psychoactive landscapes of Luc Ferrari, and the classic collage techniques of The Hafler Trio. Many composers use raw field recordings, but few have the tools to really capture something as powerful as Gendreau... and even fewer have the savvy to make everything this brilliant. It's a very physical, architectural sound that Gendreau produces, even as those sounds speak to the molecular vibrations that could cause huge buildings to crack and crumble through forces unbeknownst to the original designer and to inhabitants within. Even if we can't grasp the weight of Gendreau's paratactic writings now translated into French, the sounds that Gendreau produces are certainly worth the price of admission alone!
A few years ago electro wizard/producer Gonzales surprised us all with the release of an immaculate and beautiful solo piano recording. For some weird reason the record seemed to come and go in the blink of an eye, but thankfully the Sunnyside label has saved the day and made this gorgeous record available once again. Best known for his production work with the likes of Peaches, Feist and various artists on the Kitty-Yo label as well as his own forays into electro-pop and hip-hop, Gonzales shows that you just never know what somebody has up their sleeves. Playing piano since he was a young child, Solo Piano is the work of an obviously gifted musician but also someone with a keen sense of rich melody and elegant execution. Conjuring up the spirit of Erik Satie and George Gershwin, Solo Piano is that perfect mix of skill and simplicity. Short tracks, breezy and tranquil and beautiful. Oh so nice!
Not too long ago, Gowns were at the forefront of SF's avant/noise-rock community, their live shows strung out between violent, explosive outbursts of earth shattering noise and intimate moments of quiet song craft. We loved the band's ability to seamlessly weave these two extremes into a beautifully violent sound that was difficult to classify but easy to get lost in. Catastrophically noisy, carefully composed, and effortlessly brutal, Broken Bones conveys the intimacy of a folk song with the delivery of a freight train.
Recorded after two full tours of the US and Italy, the band laid down these 5 tracks in the Southern Studios (in the dead of winter) to document the live set they had perfected on the road. The liner notes state these recordings reflect "a time when we were barely holding on by our fingernails", and certainly Broken Bones hovers on the cusp of uncertainty, each moment teetering between blissful resonance and utter destruction.
Heaven is by far our favorite track on the 19 minute ep, a song that became the highlight of every Gowns live set, and the recorded version captures everything we love about these guys. Quiet female vocals that fall somewhere between Kim Gordon and Nico, the silky voice recalling a drug laden evening before posing the question, "Is it white like heaven or dark like space?". Sporadic drumming, deep bass and spindly guitar gradually seep into the dreamy haze as the track slowly unfolds into a mind-melting, noise freak out.
Like all the Latitudes releases, limited, and distinctively packaged.
Another release on the awesome Starlight Temple Society (which while now sadly defunct, seems to have mutated into Khrysanthoney, home to recent aQ faves Clair Cassis and Necktarium), this one from a mysterious European duo, whose sound is inspired by, according to the band themselves, Low, Labradford, Earth, Burzum, Skepticism, Nortt and Trollmann Av Ildtoppberg. But imagine those influences channeled into something more medieval sounding, and WAY more post rocky, a sort of droning medieval slowcore laid beneath softly buzzing metallic rumble and shimmer, and you'll get an idea of Hamnskifte's sound.
The opening track is the perfect example, the core sound, a simple minor key guitar jangle, the drums sparse and spare, the rhythm slow and stately, all beneath a gauzy layer of slo-mo glacial riffage, that sort of Earth/SUNNO))) black buzz, smeared and blurred into something much more washed out and ethereal, while beneath, the band introduce other bits of buzz and drone, what sound like accordions or harmoniums, a gorgeously smoldering blackened slowcore, meditative and hypnotic.
The next track is even more blissed out. The metal/buzz element relegated to a more minimal bit of pulsing droniness, beneath the gorgeously skeletal arrangement, the guitars crystalline and shimmery, it's not hard to imagine this being on a label like Temporary Residence, reminding us a bit of a more minimal instrumental Pinback, or even Temporary Residence unsungs Lumen.
The rest of the record unfolds similarly, the sounds laid back and languorous, a darkened slowcore/postrock hybrid, that seems to be only slightly blackened, and instead, shuffles and meanders, the sound hypnotic and mesmerizing, the arrangements simple and cyclical, droney and dreamy and surprisingly poppy.
Odds are this might get overlooked by the folks who would dig it most, considering the label, and the other way blacker and heavier bands on the label, but anyone into dark, droney minimal, brooding and beautiful slow motion post rock, this will definitely hit the spot.
LIMITED TO 125 COPIES. Packaged in an oversized silver metallic envelope, with an 8 page booklet, a pull out poster, and recorded onto gold cd-r.
What else can we say about a recording that guitar great Glenn Branca describes as "A gigantic piece, a killer, a work which exists outside of style or genre. It is unbelievable. It creates blacks of sound that move in and out of each other to create the effects. It is a pure, perfect piece of music that resonates and resounds and creates a universe that it is impossible by other means. In our primitive and unenlightened culture, it becomes a work of transcendent power." Very little. Or more accurately, more of the same. A legendary yet relatively obscure document of modern minimalism, recorded in 1976, Hennix, who studied with Pandit Pran Nath and LaMonte Young, and recorded with Henry Flynt, crafted The Electric Harpsichord using just-intonated keyboards and time lag accumulators, a la Terry Riley, creating a lush layered expanse of raga like dronemusic, buzzing strangely melodic, rife with overtones and rhythmic fluctuations, dark and psychedelic, mesmerizing and hypnotic, a sound active and alive, organic, yet electronic, this is the sort of sound that a million floorcore wannabes strive for, but will never achieve, absolute blissed out, mind expanding, ur-drone, sonic transcendence for sure. Brief, at only 25 minutes, but the power and energy and depth of sound, makes it feel way longer. And of course, if you're like us, you'll just set your stereo to repeat, and drift off...
Second pressing, packaged in a nice mini white cardstock box, with a foil stamped cover, and an extensive booklet inside, featuring two poems by La Monte Young, a piece on the Electric Harpsichord written by Henry Flynt, and some very confusing liner notes from Hennix herself, an excerpt from "notes on the composite sine-wave drone over which The Electric Harpsichord is performed."
NOW ON VINYL!! Limied to 500 copies, each one hand numbered...
Fantastic split release from this husband and wife duo, Aaron Turner, he of Isis, Hydra Head, and of course his solo project House Of Low Culture, and Faith Collocia, and her Mamiffer project (which also occasionally features Turner).
Mamiffer is up first, and their offering is a single 12+ minute track, constructed from piano, synthesizer, organ, tapes, field recordings, percussion, bass and effects, and it's a beauty. Stately piano drifts atop a bed of smoldering shimmer and minimal low end thrum, haunting and hazy and a little ominous, soundtracky and cinematic, the piano eventually fading out, leaving a gauzy bit of layered drift, laced with muffled explosive booms, the organ gradually swelling up from the murk and mire, building into a squall of soft psychedelic noise, before fading out once again, leaving that strange reverbed boom, to ring out into empty black space.
House Of Low Culture is mostly Turner, but here he's joined by his wife on guitar, and legendary percussionist Z'EV on, well, percussion. A hushed black ambient creep, drifting beneath dramatic multitracked vocals, everything wreathed in thick undulating black buzz, the sound switching from ambient soft noise to the vocal parts, that sound downright new wave/post punky, but those two elements bleed into each other, creating something more than its constituent parts, the track smoothes out, and becomes more and more ethereal, leaving just piano, to float in a field of hushed near silence, stately and mysterious and quite lovely, it's not until the last couple minutes that the tranquility fractures, and the fissure unleashes a cloud of noxious, crumbling distortion, and heaving blacknoise, which too fractures and peels back leaving a brief bit of clean guitar riffing and then nothing at all.
We got a taste of Iron And Wine's new sound on the Walking Far From Home cd ep released a while back, the title track of which opens up the new full length as well, so we figured we oughta just revisit what we said about that track when we first heard it:
Still present are Sam Beam's gorgeous vocals, and the lush instrumentation, piano, guitar, but what is missing, is the low key almost lo-fi sound, and in its place, is a seriously lush production, not to mention a fleshed out band, complete with piano, keyboard, background vocals (which swoop and soar E.L.O. style!) and all sorts of buzzy basslines, and random dubbed out percussion. It's jarring at first, but it only takes a few seconds where you begin to wonder why Beam didn't try his hand at lush dubbed out orchestral pop before, cuz "Walking Far From Home" is totally fantastic. The sort of song that will finally get folks to listen to Iron And Wine, who might have found the old stuff too folky. We're definitely hearing some Animal Collective, and other forward thinking pop groops too, seems unlikely, but damn, we've listened to this song about 20 times. So great.
And since then, we've probably listened to that song another fifty times at least. And it still sounds just as good, and just as exciting as it did the first time. And once you hear Beam and Co. playing this lush, Technicolor pop music, it makes the old stuff sound more like sketches of what was to come. Nothing will ever replace those records, they're gorgeous and practically perfect just the way they are, but it was definitely time for Beam to try something new. And this new direction is pretty fantastic, although it's bound to alienate plenty of long time I+W fans. The sound is way more slick, and thus more commercial, some of these tracks, it's not hard to imagine hearing them on a commercial, or in Starbucks, but maybe that speaks more to the times than to the particular sound, cuz really, the sound is not THAT far removed, it is the same voice, and the same songwriter after all, and the last few I+W records were moving in this direction anyway, it's the same songs, just cleaned up, and dressed in organs and chimes, and swirling harmonies, and keyboards and synthesizers, but it's still Beam's voice that defines the sound, whether it's the almost Beach Boys sounding harmonies of "Tree By The River", or the whispery croon on the weirdly funky "Monkeys Uptown", or the old school I+W vox laced over the dubbed out wah guitar driven psychedelia of "Rabbit Will Run", it still sounds distinctly like Iron And Wine and nobody else. And these experiments are still rooted in the timeless sound of Iron And Wine's old records, "Half Moon" stripped down, could have been off his debut, but here, with extra harmonies, the song sounds almost like Iron And Wine covering Fleetwood Mac, and "Godless Brother In Love" at its core sounds like classic Iron And Wine, but here it's piano instead of guitar that drives the song, not to mention strings and lush vocal harmonies, and thus musically it sounds more like Joanna Newsom or Antony or Rufus Wainwright, but it suits him, this all does (well most of it, there is one clunker, a WAY too funky groover with too much sax. No amount of tripped out synth or lovely vocalizing can tip those scales back). All in all, a wonderfully eclectic and exciting new chapter in the ever evolving sound of Iron And Wine, and one that we're digging quite a bit.
A while back we reviewed a killer collection / career retrospective from one of our favorite bands ever. The Jayhawks. A band we would rank right up there with Uncle Tupelo in that whole No Depression / alt country movement. But a band who was much more than alt country, they were classic pop songsmiths, like the Byrds, with two singers whose harmonies could rival any songwriting partnership of the last 50 years. But like all great bands, a collection only scratches the surface, bands like the Jayhawks didn't just write songs, they wrote records, so while a greatest hits package is definitely fine, it's the records proper where they really shine. So we were super psyched to discover that two of our favorite Jayhawks records got reissued, both on cd AND lp, the cd versions with tons of extra material. First, a little Jayhawks history lesson, from our review of the anthology:
The whole No Depression movement spawned so many great bands, Uncle Tupelo of course, and post UT, Wilco and Son Volt, Blue Mountain, Whiskeytown, Freakwater, Old 97's, Scud Mountain Boys, Robbie Fulks, Tarnation, Split Lip Rayfield, and on and on. Very few of those bands, no matter how good or how much we dig 'em, come close to the sheer song writing genius and kick ass rocking of genre namesakes Uncle Tupelo, except for one. The Jayhawks, a consistently amazing band. Every record jam packed with incredible timeless songsmithery, the two vocalists, Gary Louris and Mark Olson had voices like angels, crafting perfect soaring harmonies, and both were incredible songwriters, one of those partnerships that comes along once in a blue moon. And the band, a crack collection of amazing players, they had EVERYTHING going for them. Yet for their whole career, success eluded them. While other, lesser bands went on to become critical darlings, or to make shit tons of money, the Jayhawks toiled in relative obscurity. So legendary was their bad luck that they were the subject of an extensive article in a national magazine (Newsweek, Business Day?) all about how to survive as a band, or not, as was the case with the Jayhawks. And their bad luck extended beyond the music business, as Mark Olson left at the height of the band's popularity to care for his wife, Victoria Williams who was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. And listening to these songs again, it is criminal, and tragic, and simply hard to believe that a band this good, and songs this amazing, managed to remain so under the radar for so long. But there's something to be said for a cult following, and the Jayhawks have that in spades, fans are generally obsessed, and fans FOR LIFE. With Wilco or Ryan Adams, ask fans of those bands, and you'll probably get a "yeah, they're cool", or "sure I totally dig them, the new record is killer", but talk to ANY Jayhawks fan (Andee for instance) and you'll get an explosion of superlatives, a rant about how much better the Jayhawks are than ANY of their contemporaries, and how fucked it is that they were never huge, and since it's Andee who is writing this, well, needless to say, the Jayhawks ARE better than all of their contemporaries, and yeah, we're including Wilco and whoever else you want to stack up against these guys. It's a little country, a little rock, a little folk, a lot of pop, but they've created a sound and a style so immediately recognizable, and those voices, you'll never mistake these guys for anyone else. Easily some of the best music of the last 20 years, country, No Depression or otherwise. Totally perfect, twang flecked, utterly timeless pop music of the highest order, or maybe it IS country music, but whatever you want to call it, to these ears it sounds heavenly, and like the Jayhawks and no one else.
Hollywood Town Hall was the band's third album, but for most folks, ourselves included, it was our first exposure to these guys, and all it took was one song, album opener "Waiting For The Sun", with it's minor key riff, and those soaring crystal clear vocals, the dark introspective verses and the contrastingly vibrant sunshiney chorus, not to mention, all the little sonic subtleties, the warm whirring organ, the minimal piano, it's pretty much a perfect pop song, in the guise of alt country. And the record just doesn't let up every song here is gorgeous, melancholy and twangy one minute, rollicking and rocking the next, but always, those hooks, those harmonies, the arrangements, it's hard to know what to say. Just listen to those sound samples, and if you can somehow resist, well, we give up.
The cd version tacks on 5 bonus tracks, two previously unreleased, three single B-sides, and all of them just as good as anything on the record proper. Also includes extensive new liner notes, and lots of photos.
A while back we reviewed a killer collection / career retrospective from one of our favorite bands ever. The Jayhawks. A band we would rank right up there with Uncle Tupelo in that whole No Depression / alt country movement. But a band who was much more than alt country, they were classic pop songsmiths, like the Byrds, with two singers whose harmonies could rival any songwriting partnership of the last 50 years. But like all great bands, a collection only scratches the surface, bands like the Jayhawks didn't just write songs, they wrote records, so while a greatest hits package is definitely fine, it's the records proper where they really shine. So we were super psyched to discover that two of our favorite Jayhawks records got reissued, both with tons of extra material. First, a little Jayhawks history lesson, from our review of the anthology:
The whole No Depression movement spawned so many great bands, Uncle Tupelo of course, and post UT, Wilco and Son Volt, Blue Mountain, Whiskeytown, Freakwater, Old 97's, Scud Mountain Boys, Robbie Fulks, Tarnation, Split Lip Rayfield, and on and on. Very few of those bands, no matter how good or how much we dig 'em, come close to the sheer song writing genius and kick ass rocking of genre namesakes Uncle Tupelo, except for one. The Jayhawks, a consistently amazing band. Every record jam packed with incredible timeless songsmithery, the two vocalists, Gary Louris and Mark Olson had voices like angels, crafting perfect soaring harmonies, and both were incredible songwriters, one of those partnerships that comes along once in a blue moon. And the band, a crack collection of amazing players, they had EVERYTHING going for them. Yet for their whole career, success eluded them. While other, lesser bands went on to become critical darlings, or to make shit tons of money, the Jayhawks toiled in relative obscurity. So legendary was their bad luck that they were the subject of an extensive article in a national magazine (Newsweek, Business Day?) all about how to survive as a band, or not, as was the case with the Jayhawks. And their bad luck extended beyond the music business, as Mark Olson left at the height of the band's popularity to care for his wife, Victoria Williams who was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. And listening to these songs again, it is criminal, and tragic, and simply hard to believe that a band this good, and songs this amazing, managed to remain so under the radar for so long. But there's something to be said for a cult following, and the Jayhawks have that in spades, fans are generally obsessed, and fans FOR LIFE. With Wilco or Ryan Adams, ask fans of those bands, and you'll probably get a "yeah, they're cool", or "sure I totally dig them, the new record is killer", but talk to ANY Jayhawks fan (Andee for instance) and you'll get an explosion of superlatives, a rant about how much better the Jayhawks are than ANY of their contemporaries, and how fucked it is that they were never huge, and since it's Andee who is writing this, well, needless to say, the Jayhawks ARE better than all of their contemporaries, and yeah, we're including Wilco and whoever else you want to stack up against these guys. It's a little country, a little rock, a little folk, a lot of pop, but they've created a sound and a style so immediately recognizable, and those voices, you'll never mistake these guys for anyone else. Easily some of the best music of the last 20 years, country, No Depression or otherwise. Totally perfect, twang flecked, utterly timeless pop music of the highest order, or maybe it IS country music, but whatever you want to call it, to these ears it sounds heavenly, and like the Jayhawks and no one else.
Tomorrow The Green Grass was record number four, but the group's second release on American, and was maybe their most fully realized record up to that point, with easily some of their best songs. In fact, check out the sample for "Blue", which just might be our favorite Jayhawks song EVER, that effortless blend of melancholy country and big pop, strings and fiddles and piano, guitars and drums, and those perfect harmony vocals, and a killer chorus, not to mention a bridge that somehow manages to be even catchier. And like Hollywood Town Hall before it, Tomorrow The Green Grass just keeps the hits coming, "I'd Run Away" is another practically perfect jam, with it's loping melancholy piano flecked verse, and it's soaring string laden chorus, and so it goes, not a single bit of fluff or filler, seriously one of our favorite, most listened to records EVER.
The first disc tacks on 5 bonus tracks, three unreleased, two B-sides, and damn if "Tomorrow The Green Grass", which somehow got left off the album of the same name, doesn't sound just like Canadian power poppers Sloan, and listening to it now, the pop element in the rest of the record seems to blossom before our very ears. But "TTGG" is definitely a killer, as are the rest of the extras.
And as if that weren't enough, there's a whole bonus disc, the elusive "Mystery Demos", an incredible collection of stripped down early versions of tracks that would end up on later records, as well as a bunch of songs that never made it past the demo stage, just acoustic guitar, fiddle and vocals, and even stripped down, these guys manage to sound amazing, the harmonies still effortless even in this rough state. Not necessarily crucial listening for dabblers, but fans will be in heaven. And just further evidence that these guys should have been superstars.
Includes a big booklet with lots of liner notes, and tons of photos.
A while back we reviewed a killer collection / career retrospective from one of our favorite bands ever. The Jayhawks. A band we would rank right up there with Uncle Tupelo in that whole No Depression / alt country movement. But a band who was much more than alt country, they were classic pop songsmiths, like the Byrds, with two singers whose harmonies could rival any songwriting partnership of the last 50 years. But like all great bands, a collection only scratches the surface, bands like the Jayhawks didn't just write songs, they wrote records, so while a greatest hits package is definitely fine, it's the records proper where they really shine. So we were super psyched to discover that two of our favorite Jayhawks records got reissued, both on cd AND lp, the cd versions with tons of extra material. First, a little Jayhawks history lesson, from our review of the anthology:
The whole No Depression movement spawned so many great bands, Uncle Tupelo of course, and post UT, Wilco and Son Volt, Blue Mountain, Whiskeytown, Freakwater, Old 97's, Scud Mountain Boys, Robbie Fulks, Tarnation, Split Lip Rayfield, and on and on. Very few of those bands, no matter how good or how much we dig 'em, come close to the sheer song writing genius and kick ass rocking of genre namesakes Uncle Tupelo, except for one. The Jayhawks, a consistently amazing band. Every record jam packed with incredible timeless songsmithery, the two vocalists, Gary Louris and Mark Olson had voices like angels, crafting perfect soaring harmonies, and both were incredible songwriters, one of those partnerships that comes along once in a blue moon. And the band, a crack collection of amazing players, they had EVERYTHING going for them. Yet for their whole career, success eluded them. While other, lesser bands went on to become critical darlings, or to make shit tons of money, the Jayhawks toiled in relative obscurity. So legendary was their bad luck that they were the subject of an extensive article in a national magazine (Newsweek, Business Day?) all about how to survive as a band, or not, as was the case with the Jayhawks. And their bad luck extended beyond the music business, as Mark Olson left at the height of the band's popularity to care for his wife, Victoria Williams who was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. And listening to these songs again, it is criminal, and tragic, and simply hard to believe that a band this good, and songs this amazing, managed to remain so under the radar for so long. But there's something to be said for a cult following, and the Jayhawks have that in spades, fans are generally obsessed, and fans FOR LIFE. With Wilco or Ryan Adams, ask fans of those bands, and you'll probably get a "yeah, they're cool", or "sure I totally dig them, the new record is killer", but talk to ANY Jayhawks fan (Andee for instance) and you'll get an explosion of superlatives, a rant about how much better the Jayhawks are than ANY of their contemporaries, and how fucked it is that they were never huge, and since it's Andee who is writing this, well, needless to say, the Jayhawks ARE better than all of their contemporaries, and yeah, we're including Wilco and whoever else you want to stack up against these guys. It's a little country, a little rock, a little folk, a lot of pop, but they've created a sound and a style so immediately recognizable, and those voices, you'll never mistake these guys for anyone else. Easily some of the best music of the last 20 years, country, No Depression or otherwise. Totally perfect, twang flecked, utterly timeless pop music of the highest order, or maybe it IS country music, but whatever you want to call it, to these ears it sounds heavenly, and like the Jayhawks and no one else.
Tomorrow The Green Grass was record number four, but the group's second release on American, and was maybe their most fully realized record up to that point, with easily some of their best songs. In fact, check out the sample for "Blue", which just might be our favorite Jayhawks song EVER, that effortless blend of melancholy country and big pop, strings and fiddles and piano, guitars and drums, and those perfect harmony vocals, and a killer chorus, not to mention a bridge that somehow manages to be even catchier. And like Hollywood Town Hall before it, Tomorrow The Green Grass just keeps the hits coming, "I'd Run Away" is another practically perfect jam, with it's loping melancholy piano flecked verse, and it's soaring string laden chorus, and so it goes, not a single bit of fluff or filler, seriously one of our favorite, most listened to records EVER.
The first disc tacks on 5 bonus tracks, three unreleased, two B-sides, and damn if "Tomorrow The Green Grass", which somehow got left off the album of the same name, doesn't sound just like Canadian power poppers Sloan, and listening to it now, the pop element in the rest of the record seems to blossom before our very ears. But "TTGG" is definitely a killer, as are the rest of the extras.
And as if that weren't enough, there's a whole bonus disc, the elusive "Mystery Demos", an incredible collection of stripped down early versions of tracks that would end up on later records, as well as a bunch of songs that never made it past the demo stage, just acoustic guitar, fiddle and vocals, and even stripped down, these guys manage to sound amazing, the harmonies still effortless even in this rough state. Not necessarily crucial listening for dabblers, but fans will be in heaven. And just further evidence that these guys should have been superstars.
Includes a big booklet with lots of liner notes, and tons of photos.
The first appearance on the aQ list by these Texas based guitarnoise terrorists, was a recent collaboration with Irish doomdronedirge outfit To Blacken The Pages, but this is the first proper record of theirs we've managed to get enough of to list. And it's a doozy.
Previously a one man band, and previously more of an oozing blacknoise Skullflower psychguitar buzz drone dirge freakout-fit, the band has expanded to a duo (unless the new member is just the drum machine), either way, the sound has definitely shifted gears, less abstract, less noisy, and more industrial, with proper songs; a lurching, lumbering, downtuned chunk of miserable abject slo-mo heaviness. The programmed beats minimal and robotic, the guitars murky and crusty, the vocals a super reverbed and heavily effected demonic croak, the songs, creeping and crawling, haunting and harrowing, shades of the Swans, Godflesh of course, the label compare their sound to Loop crossed with Abruptum, and we can definitely here that in places.
The sound is way less caustic than in the past, and more psychedelic and hypnotic, "Ouroboros: First Lesson", for all its croaked vocals and grim guitar buzz, locks into a looped mesmer and gets downright psychedelic, like Spacemen 3 covered by some basement black metal band, it's pretty bad ass. And a bunch of the tracks follow a similar path, building to a lurching groove and then getting all spaced out hypnorock. Then there's tracks like "The City Of Lost Girls", that are downright pretty, the guitars smoldering, laced with piano, mournful and melancholy, drifty and droney and dreamlike. And even in the harsher jams, hidden amidst all that crunch and pound and howl are strange melodies, unlikely hooks, gorgeous textures, all woven into a dense industrial tinged, blackened psychedelia, that will most likely have lots of you scrambling for all those Korperschwache releases you missed.
Includes a link for a download to a companion record, featuring early/alternate versions and a handful of unreleased tracks.
Remember back when Metallica didn't suck? In fact, they sort of ruled. Kill Em All, Ride The Lightning, Master Of Puppets, And Justice For All. All untouchable. STILL. And remember how they would pull out these obscure covers (at least to some of us), songs by Diamond Head and Blitzkrieg, that somehow sounded LIKE Metallica, but even better. Well Portland heavies Lebanon sound a lot like that. The whole Metallica-covering-classic-NWOBHM sound. Thrashing and heavy, but totally catchy and melodic, think Angel Witch, Diamond Head, Witchfinder General, Motorhead, Venom, but supercharged and modernized, hence the Metallica-covers thing. Born of crusty d-beaters From Ashes Rise (sonic compatriots of PDX outfits Tragedy, Warcry, etc.), Lebanon are all big riffs, and killer leads, throat shredding (but still melodic) vox, lots of pick slides and classic metal sounding licks, a little bit punkish, but more traditional eighties metal, and surprisingly good. So much so that these songs could very well be mistaken for actual jams from back in the day. Tall praise, but holy shit, we just can't stop listening to this. We need a full length SOON.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES.
We only got about 10 of these, and sadly that's all we'll ever be able to get, a new blast of twisted what-the-fuck black medal weirdness from aQ faves Lonesummer, teamed up with new-to-us Planning For Burial.
Lonesummer are in fine form, introducing their tracks with a weird sampled TV jingles before unfurling sheets of white hot, ultra brittle blasting black metal buzz, super lo-fi, and chaotic, but shot through with strange melodies, and mysterious textures, shifting from frantic frenzied blowouts, to mournful depressive doomic crawls, the vocals a buried inhuman shriek, the guitars so caustic, the sound totally high end, as if they were being played through speakers consisting of nothing but tweeters, finishing off, with a gorgeous bit of melancholy clean jangle guitar pop, the vocals sweetly sorrowful, like a more twisted lo-fi Richard Youngs, that poppiness, no doubt present in the other songs as well, just buried under avalanches of crumbling corrosive crunch. Awesome.
Planning For Burial are not nearly so abrasive, in fact, they're barely black metal at all, instead, they craft a sort of buzz drenched dreamlike slowcore, the opening track is all creepy crawly, measured emotive vox, wheezing organs, all beneath a churning layer of crumbling distortion, the result is actually quite lovely. Then the drums come in, programmed and electronic, and it gets more dramatic and majestic, and sounds almost like some twisted, 4 track, buzz doused take on Antony And The Johnsons, which is absolutely a good thing. The second track takes a woozy, depressive Cure like drift, all tinkling minor key melodies, and shuffling rhythms, and wraps it in thick buzzing bass, and swirling ethereal synths, the beats big and electronic here too, sounding not at all unlike some of the more minimal and moody Witch House jams we've heard. Finally, PFB finish off with a gorgeous softly psychedelic guitar dronescape, all washed out, blurred and bleary, the vocals buried, the guitars lustrous and thick, total hazy shoegazey dream pop drift. So killer.
LIMITED TO ONLY 100 COPIES and already out of print. We have the last 10 copies, so act fast...
If not utterly impossible, it would certainly still be silly to write a review of this debut by Russian dope n' doom trio Lord Of Doubts without mentioning that they sound a heck of a lot like UK stoner doom titans Electric Wizard. In fact, those two words would easily do for a brief review of this: ELECTRIC WIZARD! You could almost leave it at that, really. Citing a few of their song titles would work well too: "Temple Of The Riff", "Satan's Magic Smoke", "Heavier Than Universe". You get the idea, eh?
Of course, this list, we're highlighting the domestic release of EW's latest slab of psychedelic sonic Satanism, Black Masses. But if you're still jonesin' for more of an Electric Wizard fix, here you go. Lord Of Doobies, whoops, we mean Lord Of Doubts, deliver the same brand of bong-smoke-shrouded, slow n' low riffage that Electric Wizard fans are hooked upon. Drugula obviously put the bite on these Russians too. Their riffs are as massive and mesmeric. The rhythm section likewise a pounding, lurching throb. And, clinching it, the vocals are similarly a ragged, wretched, wasted drawl. It's total EW worship, no doubt about it. We can't imagine they'd deny the Electric Wizard influence, but original or not (and EW themselves of course owe something to predecessors Black Sabbath), Lord Of Doubts do what they do quite well. It's not just the *sound* that they emulate, but they also prove themselves capable of writing worthy riffs, so rather than a rip-offs, we regard them as talented acolytes, and possible heirs to the Dopethrone when and if EW ever pack it in. Seriously, we were a bit skeptical about this before we first put it on, but soon found ourselves utterly hypnotized by the heaviness, and how can you argue with that?
Mako is truly one of the most masterful musical minds behind some of the best psychedelic sounds that came out of Japan in the '70s, a relatively unsung hero of that scene. While his project Magical Power Mako certainly produced other records that are noisier, weirder, more abstract and fucked up, there is no doubt that the 1975 album Super Record is his absolute tour de force! An album that left many of us stunned upon our first encounter with it. It's one of those records that exemplifies what you really want in a psychedelic record, filled with a wide range of textures and mystical sounds from across the globe that take you on a journey and make you forget where you are.
Super Record melts into an unforgettable washed out pastoral setting as it glides and floats through different terrain of dripping colors and hallucinatory smoke. Like the best psychedelic albums of this era, Super Record is an absolute start to finish experience, with different interludes laced with lute, harmonica, melodica, charged fuzzed out guitar all in a ceremonial tone which creates a mood and vibe that would be at home in a film by Jodorowsky or Antonioni.
Think of some mind melting combination of Ash Ra Temple, Bo Hansson, early '70s Pink Floyd, Jean-Claude Vannier, and a dash of The Incredible String Band and you start to get a picture of the kind of musical magic that is happening on Super Record. We also get the feeling that some of our favorite modern day psych music makers like The Alps, Blues Control, and Dungen have all been influenced by the brilliance of this album as well. Super and magical!
While most aQ customers probably know the name Phil Manley by now, the ones who don't still have probably heard one of the bands he's played in: Trans Am, The Fucking Champs, Jonas Reinhardt, Oneida, or maybe one of the bands he's recorded: The Alps, Moon Duo, Wooden Shjips, Mi Ami, Arp, Saviours. And while like us, you might have been thinking a solo record from Manley would sound like either the Champs or Trans Am, or something right in between, Manley instead looked back to a certain German music of the seventies, music that most definitely informed Trans Am, and continues to influence Manley and his music, stuff like Kraftwerk, Neu!, Cluster, Popol Vuh, Harmonia, and while around aQ, modern folks trying their hand at krautrock is nothing revolutionary, Manley proves his krautrock mettle with a suite of songs that manage to fuse the classic sounds of old with something slightly more modern. The opener is all pulsing synths and spidery Rother like guitar melodies, and a warm swelling melodic refrain, the Kraftwerk vibe is huge, while the follow up "Commercial Potential" takes what sounds like the main melody from Metallica's "Enter Sandman" and stretches it out into something much more haunting and meditative, lacing it with piano, softly swirling new agey synths. Dark and brooding and quite lovely.
"Lawrence KS" is post rock gone krautrock, with a guitar part that sounds a bit Slinty, draped over a stuttering minimal rhythmic pulse, which leads into "Forest Opening Theme", a lush bit of hazy, softly psychedelic krautdrone drift, like some lost Popol Vuh soundtrack.
"Work It Out" is all buzzing synths and lush layered spaciness, while "Make Good Choices" is some super spare steel string Appalachia, subtly droney building to a softly chaotic finish. "Gay Bathers" is a brief bit of (seemingly) tongue in cheek new age-y shimmer, all swoonsome synths, and "doot doot doo" falsetto vox, sounding more like a lost backing track for the High Llamas.
But it's "Night Visions" that feels like the album's centerpiece" a 9+ minute Tangerine Dreamy sprawl of arpeggiated melodies, soft synth swells, swirling moody minimal melodies, all drifty and hypnotic and minimal and abstract and so utterly mesmerizing, one of those tracks that definitely could have kept right on going.
And finally, the title track, which returns to the pulsing synth and motorik rhythms of the record opener.
So good. And don't let the silly album cover and goofy song and album titles fool you, Manley and friends just have a dorky sense of humor (see: The Fucking Champs, Trans Am, etc.), and Life Coach is a serious, and seriously kick ass slab of modern minimal krautrock. Dig it!
A handful of new installments in the ongoing Latitudes series, where bands are given a session in the Southern Studios to whip up some improvised on the spot sounds, and release them into the world. Elsewhere on this week's list you'll find new Latitudes releases from Gowns, Gang Gang Dance and Nadja, then there's this one, from aQ faves the Master Musicians Of Bukkake, featuring the usual lineup, made up of various members of other bands you might have heard of: Earth, Sun City Girls, Burning Witch and more...
MMOB aren't so much a band, making music, as they are a collection of sonic sorcerers, conjuring up gorgeous and mysterious songscapes, drawing on all manner of world musics, Morricone-esque soundtracks, free jazz, drone, doom, Appalachia, and whatever else they've picked up on their travels, somehow all of that is woven into lush organic expanses of fantastically enthralling, super cinematic sound, that drifts from meditative Eastern tinged raga to buzz drenched Hawkwind style space rock.
Two tracks, 31 minutes, the first, is a fantastically abstract bit of raga-drift, the steel strings buzz and shimmer, sitar like melodies draped over warm whirring chordal thrum, slide guitars offer up slippery melodies, all softly tangled into gorgeous sun dapped dreamlike free-raga-drone music, the drums relentless, non stop rhythms adding less rhythmic heft, and more percussive texture, flurries of notes, clouds of cymbal shimmer, until about halfway through, when the various elements seems to coalesce into a bit of Eastern tinged slo-mo Appalachia, now with chanted monklike vocals, the drums more rhythmic, gradually locking into a hazy, deserty sprawl of twang flecked raga doom folk drift.
Which couldn't be more different than the second track, which immediately launches into some super motorik, cyclical krautrock, synthy swells swooping from speaker to speaker, the vocals down in the mix, but oh so Hawkwindy, repetitive and sing songy, and the song follows a distinctly space rock trajectory, locking into some druggy memser, and then slowly building and building, getting louder and louder, the main groove remaining virtually unchanged, but all around it, wild squalls of FX, streaks of glitched out synths, the guitars a bit crunchier and distorted, to cut through the swirling clouds of blur and buzz and skree and squelch, just the sort of thing for anyone into White Hills, The Heads, Eternal Tapestry, Heavy Winged, Monster Magnet, Colour Haze, the Telescopes and of course Spacemen 3, Loop and Hawkwind!
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES, the covers the immediately recognizable brown and white origami style Latitudes sleeves, this one with super swank copper foil printing, and a full color insert inside.
Monk Records returns with collection #2 from legendary Piedmont blues singer and 12 string guitar master Blind Willie McTell. These songs, released on the Victor, Okeh, and Vocalion labels, were recorded in between 1931-1933, picking up where the material from Monk's previous McTell collection, Scary Day Blues ended, with a few sessions taking place in McTell's homebase of Atlanta while the majority were captured in New York City. Most of the songs feature accompaniment from fellow Georgia guitarist Curley Weaver, while others find McTell backing up singers Ruth Willis and Ruby Glaze in an ensemble setting. For those unfamiliar with McTell, his style is generally a bit more refined and his voice is sweeter than many of his counterparts from the Delta or Texas. Much of the lyrics on this collection are of a spiritual nature, but then you got tracks like "Love Makin' Ma and "Death Cell Blues", which should indicate the wide range of topics on display here. Throughout, McTell's masterful guitar playing astounds and inspires. Truly amazing stuff here.
Similar to how The Soft Moon delivered on the amazing promise of their first two 7"s with their recent aQ Record Of The Week debut full length, Minks have managed the same feat, their brand new full length offering us everything their 7"s got us hoping for.
Dreamy blissed out pop that sparkles with such a suave touch and an impressive dynamic range. In fact as much as we loved the 7"s it did seem like maybe the Minks were just gonna be another band tapping into that of '80s and '90s shoegaze sound, but with By The Hedge, Minks demonstrate they have surprisingly wide sonic horizons and have added some serious depth and scope to their sound. It's an album that really has it all, from totally catchy warped pop nuggets, to subdued and stoney daydream moments. While pulling of course, from My Bloody Valentine, The Cure, The Smiths, Sonic Youth, Echo & The Bunnymen, The Field Mice, Slowdive, Ride, and even Ariel Pink, Minks have found a way to take those influences and make something very much their own. It's an album that we dig more and more with repeated listens. We really do think there is something to be said for what folks like Minks and Soft Moon have done in releasing a few 7"s before jumping into a full length, as both parties were able to take their time with the origins of their creation to make an album without any filler or throwaways. So damn good!
Yet another new Nadja, this one part of Southern's Latitudes series, where bands are given some time in Southern Studios to write, rehearse and record a new and exclusive, often improvised set of songs. The duo of Aidan Baker and Leah Buckareff, aka Nadja, whipped up two sprawling epics, both near 20 minutes long, and by now fans of Nadja pretty much know what they're getting into, it's gorgeously ambient, droney, blissed out and heavy, these two are after all probably the preeminent purveyors of dreamdronedoomdrift or metalgaze or whatever you want to call it, and the tracks here are as good as anything else they've done. And anyway, Nadja fans also tend to be a bit obsessive, and will probably not even read this far, but be warned, these are quite limited, and we got WAY fewer copies than we ordered, especially of the cds, so if you want one of these, you're gonna have to act fast.
For those new to the world of Nadja, or just want to know how these two jams stack up. The first, "Jaguar", is a slow smoldering ambient soundscape, all crackle and rumble and creak and groan, laced with static, and tolling bells, mysterious voices, soft chordal swells, and of course a thick swirl of crumbling distorted guitar, that takes more than half of the song to full surface, and when it does, it doesn't launch into crushing doom, instead it roils and churns, a thick undulating expanse of effects drenched guitar dronebliss, abstract and ambient, but still dark and heavy and blissfully buzz.
The title track begins with keening streaks of high end over a swirl of rumble and whir, some spare programmed drumming, all beneath thick clouds distorted guitar chords, left to ring out and fade away slowly, streaked with feedback, this track too forgoes the usual bombastic onslaught, and instead, offers a gradual build, and a less obvious climax, a swirling tangle of melodies and effects, the guitar and bass droned out and thick, an epic squall of murky and muddied psychedelia, all still anchored to that machine like rhythm, fantastically space-y and spaced out.
Like we've said in the past, you can fault Nadja for having an un-keep-up-with-able release schedule, but you sure as heck can't accuse them of releasing anything but gold, and these two tracks definitely rank up there with the rest of the highlights in their highlight heavy catalog.
As with all Latitudes, LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES, cd and lp, the covers are the immediately recognizable brown and white origami style Latitudes sleeves (the lp sleeves are black and white, and not so origami), the Nadja one with a hand rubber stamped cover (on the cd), and a full color insert inside. And we didn't get as many as we ordered of this one, so act fast...
