With the recent reactivation of legendary NZ label Flying Nun, and the spate of recent reissues, it makes a weird sort of sense that legendary NZ indie pop outfit the Mad Scene would return with their first new record in nearly twenty years. It makes a bit less sense (at least at first), that the band has been expanded to a sort of indie rock supergroup, which now features, among others, Georgia from Yo La Tengo, and aQ pal and WFMU music director Brian Turner. But to our ears, that was a great move, cuz the the Mad Scene sound as great as ever, and really relatively unchanged from the MS records of old. If someone had told us that this was in fact a lost record simply being reissued, we would have bought it in a second. Still fronted by the inimitable Hamish Kilgour (he of the legendary Kiwi crew The Clean), Blip is warm and woozy, dreamily minor key, washed out and a little bit druggy, makes perfect sense that the group got Sonic Boom of Spacemen 3 to produce and mix, his fingerprints are definitely all over it, giving the record even more of a gorgeously murky haze. Beyond the sound though, the songs too are pretty magical, subtly catchy, a little bit dream poppy, a little bit twee pop, the hooks all tangled up in blurred guitar crunch, and simple propulsive drumming, the vocals buried way down in the mix, and all the songs rife with layered guitars, strap on some headphones, and hear buzzing rumbles beneath shimmery jangles, sinewy melodies atop chiming thrum, the backdrop to each track a constantly shifting guitarscape, with various elements deftly moving to the fore and then slipping right back into the mix, without ever sacrificing the group's pure poppiness. The Mad Scene somehow sound so timeless, at once right at home with the current crop of lo-fi, reverbed garage poppers, but also so reminiscent of classic twee pop, and ramshackle psychedelia, sounding in places like some lost Scottish or British pop group as much as a classic NZ Flying Nun band. So great!
Includes a download coupon as well.
Latest record from this local indie rock combo (number three by our count), fronted by aQ pal Jason Lakis, who back in the day was also the frontman for a couple other aQ fave outfits, the Red Thread and Half Film, and while those bands tended toward the more brooding melancholy slowcore side of the spectrum, Mist And Mast traffic in more of a classic indie rock, a sound that to our ears is totally timeless, although perhaps it's more that the sounds are of a different time, specifically the nineties, an era that old folks like us look back upon wistfully, lamenting the passing of the days when bands like Mist And Mast got the sort of attention they deserved. Cuz holy cow, this record is great, and this band just keep getting better with every release, the songs here more fully realized than ever, deftly crafted and meticulously recorded, the sound lush and layered, rife with subtle impossibly memorable hooks, crazy catchy melodies, all wed to a gorgeous dark and dreamlike jangle, not to mention some awesome guitar harmonies, and Lakis's vocals sound better than ever, this is the sort of classic pop that fans of groups like Built To Spill, the Comas, the Shins, Modest Mouse and all the rest, should be flipping out over. If there's any justice, this will be the record that finally perks up the ears of all the folks who should already be listening to these guys. WAY recommended for anyone into classic pop, indie rock and warm wistful jangle. Stick around for record closer, "Red, Right, Returning", which finds Lakis taking Mist And Mast into some haunting, darkly brooding Earth / Barn Owl / Morricone territory, and it definitely suits them!
Beautifully packaged in handmade digipaks, each one adorned with a different map, and each one hand stamped and silkscreened. Also includes liner notes / lyrics also printed on an old map. Nice!
Over the past few years, Darren Tate has been wandering into some wildly weird electronics, broadening the scope of his aesthetic beyond the seminal recordings he made with Andrew Chalk (amongst others) as Ora, and more recently through Monos. For the most part, Monos has been a collaborative project between Tate and Nurse With Wound engineer extrordinaire Colin Potter, but at other times, we're pretty sure that Tate is the only one behind the wheel. For Above The Sky, the Monos line-up includes Tate, Potter, and fellow British dronescraper Paul Bradley; and this record is a top notch, vintage sounding Monos disc for sure.
The extended pieces found on this album were culled from the one and only live Monos gig in 2006, the handful of recordings from that gig were processed, recreated, forgotten about, rediscovered, and processed again throughout various starts and stops over the next four years. The resulting album is surprisingly coherent, presenting itself as a sinewy mass of undulating drones dappled with various textures, shadowy events, field recordings, subtle instrumentation, and then some. The ghostly ambience that introduces this album is sublimely beautiful, like the druggy drones of Nurse With Wound (e.g. Soliloquy For Lilith) or the permafrost laden expanses of Thomas Koner or even a darker version of Leyland Kirby's much-lauded hauntological ambience. Distant sound elements of scraped metal echo to the foreground, as the latent sounds from some occluded ritual in some forgotten place. Shimmering acoustic clouds of resonance peel away into field recordings of numerous birds flitting about. Later on, semi-melodic phrases hover near the event horizon dominated by ominous electrical vibrations and dilated drone fields. Seriously, this is fantastic stuff!
The first 135 copies of Above The Sky feature a full extra disc worth of material that easily complements that found on the album proper. Needless to say, these won't last long!
Rachel Evans brings her humid, oozing synth explorations to Spectrum Spools, which has become quite the launching pad for a wide array of outsider electronics as curated through the judicious ear of Emeralds' John Elliott. The name of Evans' project is lifted from William S. Burroughs' novel The Soft Machine; and with her decentering, liminal drift of half-formed / half-dissolved constructions, she finds herself peering between the kudzu-encrusted fields of her native Lagrange, Georgia and the imagined soundscapes of a primordial Gondwanaland (time-travel for her seems to go backwards in time, not forwards). After close to a couple dozen releases (mostly in the micro-edition format), she's either gotten the doseage right on the Dramamine, or she's acclimated to the queasy side effects of jumping between time and space, as this eponymous record isn't nearly as woozy and narcotized as her previous work. "The Dream" starts out quite dark, with backward-masked slashes that parallel the thickets of razored noise from Current 93's early collage work; but she quickly escapes from these bad vibes into a lengthy daydream of shimmering ambience laced with bright, effervescent sequences and some rather Vangelis-like triumphant synth stabs. "The Center" spins around a latticework of crystalline sequences that blur into massive, oceanic pools of rippling sound, with her voice looped and smeared into an ethereal bliss. "Summer Of The Cat's Eye" is a mellow impressionist piece of synth jamminess akin to Tangerine Dream's wanderings across the keyboard. "One Perfect Moment" is very reverential of John Elliott's work in Emeralds and all of his solo projects, with a sequenced glissando streaming beneath the slow unfurling of bittersweet tonal chords and Evans' pleading vocal delivery. Easily, the most arresting track she's recorded to date, rounding out another fantastic album from Evans' Motion Sickness Of Time Travel.
Before we relay the weird way in which we fell in love with this record, let us just say right up front, this is our new favorite garage pop record, hands down!
So as you probably know, the increasing habit of listening to music on our computers has changed the way we listen to music so much. Lots of folks listen to everything on shuffle, others just play their favorite tracks, the idea of full, programmed albums is almost a thing of the past for some folks. And while in some ways those changes enhance the listening experience, in others, it definitely feels like something has been lost. But for whatever reason, at least in this one case, the quirkiness of said computer listening was the key to our obsession with Mrs. Magician.
We had been listening to this new record from the weirdly named Mrs. Magician, a garage rock combo who we had only really heard of cuz they were on tour with the Hot Snakes. And we definitely liked what we heard but were not yet totally blown away. Then for some weird reason, we accidentally sorted our music library by 'date added' and ended up listening to Strange Heaven IN REVERSE ORDER, from back to front, and holy shit, suddenly it all clicked, our socks were knocked totally off, and ever since, we can't stop listening to this (and yeah, we dig it in the proper order now too!).
Not sure if the record is just weirdly back loaded, or we just needed this little twist to unlock the magic of Mrs. Magician, but we're just grateful it happened. To help simulate our listening experience, the first two sound samples we've provided are of course the double shot (in reverse order) that sealed the deal, the sort of one-two punch you find yourself listening to over and over and over (just ask the other aQ-ers how many times Andee has played these two tracks over and over the last few weeks), and then once you can convince yourself to move on, the third and fourth sound samples, are the album's proper opening two tracks.
But c'mon, "Dead 80's" has to be the jam of the year, crunchy, jangly, fuzzy, with a chorus that KILLS, all dreamy oooooh's, some falsetto crooning, warbly organs, ramshackle riffing, and the sort of gleefully profane chorus you'll find yourself singing along too even after just one time through ("Oooooooh, Fuck the world, Oooooooh, Fuck the law, Ooooooooh, Fuck the kids!"). And if "Dead 80's" wasn't already THEE jam here, then "Hours Of The Night" sure as shit would be, a dead ringer for late great post grunge Nova Scotian pop group the Hardship Post, all post Nirvana strum, but with hooks galore, a shuffling rhythm, and snarky heart broken lyrics, not to mention plenty of reverby dreaminess, and so it goes, those two songs are the key, that unlock a whole record of crazy catchy garage pop bliss, that to be honest, is really all we want to listen to. Can't remember being as excited about a pop record since Jaill's That's How We Burn, which trust us, is huge praise indeed. Definite contender for record of the year, pop or otherwise.
FYI vinyl version forthcoming next month...
One of two new releases from Mr. Aidan Baker. One under his own name, a gorgeously druggy twangy slab of slowcore, and this the latest from his slow motion sludge metal doom duo Nadja.
And it's a killer. One single 62 minute long track, bass, guitar and drum machine, all woven into a slowly undulating soundscape of blissy drone and monstrous pummel.
The disc begins with 5 minutes of glistening shimmer, a slowly shifting swirl of bleary eyed sound. before the hammer falls and the beast lurches forth. A lush, massive, lumbering dirge, but rife with dense layers of sound, nearly orchestral in it's depth, a cyclical main riff, downtuned and dripping with distortion, beneath that, a strange glimmering melodic sparkle, as if millions of tiny diamonds were sprinkled into the blackened tarpit sludge, beneath it, a simple machinelike rhythm pulses relentlessly, like some sort of robotic heartbeat. It's like some Frankensteinian collage of Godflesh, Jesu, SUNNO))) and old Swans. It's heavy and bleak and doomy, but like Jesu, the sound is imbued with a strange warmth, and emotional mystery, that makes this much more than an exercise in guitardrone.
And the sound is not static, it wavers and shifts, the melody subtly changing shape, all without the rhythm ever wavering.
About 20 minutes in, the wall of guitar drops away, leaving simple distorted strums to float weightless above a single drum hit, repeated over and over, strangely meditative and serene. Before building back up again, but instead of sounding metallic, it sounds lush and expansive, the guitars billowing and glowing, a mighty Ur-drone, alive and vibrant.
Almost halfway through, a totally amazing riff is introduced, a moaning minor key melody that soars over the swirling blackness below, and adds all sorts of tension, a lurching slow motion stoner rock almost, that gives away once again to a blissed out soundscape of soft fluttering tones and warm muted colors, before erupting into one final salvo, a blinding burst of white light from the mouth of infinity, a soul shearing wave of incandescent guitars and psychedelic overload. Like Merzbow filtered through M83 and played by Philip Jeck, a glorious blast of spectral majesty, radiant and absolutely breathtaking.
When we first discovered Necro Deathmort, they were recommended to us as sounding like Squarepusher style electronica fused to SUNNO)))-like sludge, and that was actually not far off the mark, with most of the record sounding precisely like that, thick crumbling distorted guitar buzz laced with all manner of stuttery skittery beats, and then the second record, found the band seeming to focus that sound, relying less on the electronica-meets-metal thing, and instead creating songs that just happened to be both electronic AND heavy, and while it wasn't as quirky or fucked up as the debut, it was definitely a better records, with proper songs, and one that does get plenty of repeat play even still (although so does the first one, which we still love), but we were super excited to discover there was yet another NdM record, a brand new one called The Colonial Script, and we knew from the second we put it on, we were gonna dig it as much as the first two.
For folks new to NdM, just check out the first two sound samples below to get a feel for what these guys are all about, which on the Colonial Script, definitely hews closer to the second record but does feature some seriously metallic moments.
Opener "Imperial" starts of all skeletal and spaced out, and when the drums drop, it's like the heaviest, darkest dubstep you've ever heard, the beats pounding away over thick buzzing rumbles and whirring low end, all wreathed in swaths of hum and thrum, and super dynamic, with the track stopping to creep along like some industrial doom, before gradually building back up again, the second half of the track super melodic and melancholy, all minor key and midtempo, a sort of true doom electronica if that makes any sense, building and building to a final few minutes blow out of metallic industrial pummel, which leads directly into "Led To The Water", which is all blown out metallic dirgery, the guitars thick and corrosive, the beats all Godfleshy and mechanical, the vocals a howled feral wail, the vibe is somewhere between black metal, Neurosis and Godflesh or Neurosis, the churning heaviness underpinned by all sorts of subtle melodic shimmer, the metal sort of peeling away, leaving a stripped down skeletal lumber, that fades out, the sounds growing more and more brittle before disappearing in a dubbed out haze. Hard to resist, another one of those bands that we sort of always wished existed and now does. This is some dancefloor destroying heaviness, the sort of stuff that no proper DJ in their right mind would drop, but if they did, people would lose their shit.
Much of this record plays out more like some blackened industrial metalscape, not electronica so much as programmed beats driving big riffs and grim atmospheres, but that can change when you least expect it, like on "Endless Vertex", when another sprawl of downtuned lumber gradually shifts into a gorgeous glimmery bit of beat heavy skitter, or the sort of DJ Shadow-ish blackened hip hop of "Shadows of Reflections of Ghosts Past", or even the sort of droned out krautrock shuffle of "Starbeast", that track adding swirls of synth, and thick undulating low end, resulting in a fantastically broody slab of low end beat driven minimal mesmer.
But again in between those instances of overt electronica, NdM are a seriously heavy outfit, trafficking in the sort of effects drenched programmed drum driven doom, that will have Nadja obsessives losing their minds.
As always, WAY recommended! For folks into electronic music, heavy music, or obviously both, and like the other two records, a shoe in for end of year top ten lists, even though it's only May. Packaged in a cool super black 6 panel digipak.
We loved NN's Urmerica record, reviewed here a long while back, a strange concoction of thick layered drone music, noise flecked field recordings and blissed out ur-drone shimmer, a sound we likened to Jazzfinger, Birchville and other sonically likeminded longform noisescapers, and this latest offers up more of the same, which makes sense when you realize that this is not in fact a new recording, but instead is an archival release, that had sat on the shelf for years, originally intended for release way back in 2007-2008. Not sure if this band is still active, but the fact that these guys were making noise like this and somehow managed to remain mostly under the radar boggles the mind. This shit is massive, dense, heavy, brutal, blown out, the group deftly weaving guitarnoise and harmonium drones into heaving swells of crumbling crush, blowing speakers with a fearsome intensity, before shifting ever so subtly, and those same sounds are transformed into something much more blissed out and hypnotic. There's a definitely soundtrack element, but it's the sort of music you wish some director actually had the balls to use in a film, emotional and hauntingly bleak, dense and fearsomely atmospheric, evoking all manner of images, most sinister and otherworldly, but sometimes it's easy to let your mind drift, eyes closed, headphones strapped on, and get lost in some grim, grey city, devoid of life, or some lost highway, that seems to trail off into the horizon, disappearing into the blackness.
Way recommended for folks into grim black ambience, psychedelic noise, and post industrial soundscapery, which as we often say, is most likely a whole lot of you.
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!!
The exasperating catalogue of Nurse With Wound is filled with limited edition titles that might have been sold at an art show or a concert or for no other reason than because Steven Stapleton wanted to do it. So, there's ample opportunity to anthologize the NWW back catalogue of rarities, following the cd reissues originally on World Serpent which would tack on a compilation track or three to flesh out the material from an older lp. Creakiness originally came out in 1991 on a split lp through United Dairies; it appeared shortly thereafter on the Sugar Fish Drink anthology with a bunch of other NWW oddities; and now Creakiness gets headline status with the 'other misdemeanours' dating from 2004-2005 including some limited editions from the Echo Poeme sessions and a track from the "Having Fun With The Prince Of Darkness" single sold at a Current 93 gig in 2004. Got it?
Creakiness is an aptly named piece, as Stapleton builds his own machined music from door creaks and metal klanks, sliding these in and out of a forest folk interlude crafted by Joolie Wood and Tony Wakeford. Perhaps something akin to Vashti Bunyan trying to find common ground with Luigi Russolo and Pierre Henry. The Echo Poeme sessions take their inspiration from the stylized, cerebral dreaminess of the film Last Year At Marienbad. In all of the Echo Poeme sessions, Stapleton works with female French narrators whose whispered dictation expands into a narcoleptic glossolalia of delicately overlapping vocal fragments and abstractions. The Echo Poeme recordings found on this disc tend to be darker and more unnerving than on the more wildly available Echo Poeme Sequence 2. The horror sound design of "A Perfectly Natural Expectation" from that aforementioned single is a classic Stapleton piece of radioactive squiggles and bending atonal chorals. Brilliant as always.
Now, on vinyl, for Record Store Day we were told, though they only just showed up...
Graham Bowers is a name that you may have heard floating around in the mid '90s, perhaps by way of some choice reviews in The Wire. While the nature of those recordings escapes us, he claims an eclectic heritage of avant-garde practices that might gravitate towards the Chris Cutler side of progressive composition. In the smattering of interviews we've read, he comes off like a perpetual outsider with no interest in participating in any particular 'scene' of experimental music. Steven Stapleton (Nurse With Wound) met Bowers while both participated in a 2011 sound-art festival in Wales; the two then embarked on an ambitious collaborative project resulting in this unnerving, post-classical album attempting to articulate the inner workings of a human brain that had suffered a stroke and that has only a little over hour before death.
The dominant 'voice' within Rupture is a cacophonous collage built upon orchestral samples, fixated mostly on bombastic horns and kettledrum crashes. While the origins of the sampling is unclear, Bowers and Stapleton make little attempt to obfuscate the sampled technology, with the symphonic samples played through the keyboard, discordant and portentous. Amidst these orchestral blurts, quintessential slashes and enigmatic drones indicate Stapleton's signature sound design, with warbling ballroom vocals from Victrola recordings, amplified heartbeats, and unanswered telephones ringing. The album's entire mood is one of panic that steadily fades to black, and hardly qualifies as easy listening.
We knew nothing about these guys when we first heard them, we were definitely intrigued by the band name, and the song title, "Tell Her I'm Dead", and then when the music started, thick, buzzing, almost synth sounding guitars (or maybe actual synths, hard to tell), with big booming drums, sound like some sort of metal / cold wave fusion, and when the song proper started, that only furthered that idea, the churning distorted bass line, soft focus synth swirl, churning propulsive rhythm, and super dramatic crooned vox, when all of a sudden, the song exploded into a burst of furious blasting, a sort of black metal cold wave, accompanied by some strange sci-fi squiggles, and as soon as it started, it was right back into that gorgeously miserablist mope rock. The second time that burst/blast surfaces, it's accompanied by hellish shrieks, and then explodes right into a crazy drum/synth jam, with the drums pounding wildly in a field of swirling new wave synths, a twisted hybrid that somehow is something we always wanted to hear, but never knew it. The song continues to confound, with creepy falsetto vocals, over a synth heavy doom creep, before finishing off in a squall of FX swirl and psych wave weirdness.
Holy shit, one song is all it took, and the rest of the tracks here are just as good. A little digging revealed that Pinkish Black is in fact a group with roots in an old aQ favorite, the late great Texas prog-psych outfit Yeti, and suddenly the sound of PB made a lot more sense. After Yeti, came The Great Tyrant, and it seems like every band these guys were in, endured all sorts of personal tragedy and loss of life, the sort of thing that would most definitely inspire the sort of gloom and doom Pinkish Black traffic in, and while based on Yeti, it's hard to see just what may have influenced the actual sound here, the last record from The Great Tyrant found them delving into similar territory, super gothy and dramatic, but not so fully realized, PB sounds like where The Great Tyrant might have eventually ended up, the whole record held together with that impossibly distorted buzz, be it synth or bass or guitar, it's a constant presence, whether churning malevolently, or droning blissfully, it's what gives the sound of PB its heft, it's grim black energy, and it's the drums that drive everything else, the playing dense and intricate, powerful and mathy, by turns metallic and brutal, deft and almost krautrocky, those two combined are the framework, over which all manner of soundtracky synth melodies drift and squiggle, and the vocals, a dark soporific croon one second, a washed out almost shoegazey reverbed bellow the next, the songs slipping from dense driving gloom rock to tripped out psych-goth space jams, often some dizzying mix of the two.
After Vaura's recent aQ Record Of The Week, we might not have been surprised to find this being released on Wierd Records, cuz for all its metallisms, and its punk/metal pedigree, this is essentially a super dark, super heavy new wave record, the synth melodies especially had us imagining what a Gary Numan record might have sounded like had he been making his first records 30 years later, and we definitely think they might have sounded something like this. Instead it's on the limited edition Handmade Birds label, run by the guy from Pyramids, who always bring us interesting stuff.
Haunting and heavy, brooding and brutal, imagine some sort of black metal / new wave hybrid, or perhaps a sort of noise rock / goth rock fusion, fans of all that Goblin / John Carpenter worship who might be into something much darker and heavier should check this out, but really, everyone who digs gloomy heaviness will dig this big time, and and if like us, the thought of a sort of metallic new wave gets you all riled up, then this just might be your new favorite record. It is ours!
We discovered Colin Potter many years ago, through his heady production and sound design in Nurse With Wound, Ora, and Monos; yet like so many pioneering electronic musicians in the '80s, he released a slew of cassettes overflowing with various sonic experiments and audio excursions. Ancient History collects four of Potter's tapes charting his output from 1979 to 1989, including A Gain, Two Nights, and Recent History Volumes 1 & 2. Back in this time period, Potter was working in a post-kosmische aesthetic with a small arsenal of synths, step sequencers, drum machines, guitars, and effects. He had yet to incorporate the heavy-lidded drone and field recording component which he's been associated with as of late; but those tapes positioned his sound not too far from the Moebius / Schnitzler / Schulze axis of progressive electronics with a healthy dose of Chris Carter's DIY aesthetic tossed in for good measure.
A Gain was released in 1982 through his ICR imprint and is a culmination of work dating back to 1979. The opening number to this album is a bright hypnotic piece for glockenspiel and synthesizer, which builds upon elliptical phrases on those instruments with greater and greater density and kaleidoscopic fervor, snugly situated between Terry Riley's A Rainbow In Curved Air and Cluster's percolating motorik electron-pop. Elsewhere on A Gain, Potter pulls out the guitar to augment the synth blorp and drive with some fine Manuel Gottsching-esque explorations. Two Nights from 1981 is probably the cream of the crop here, not to belittle anything else on the set; but this is a great piece of futuristic electronics that is a must have for anyone keen on John Carpenter and Goblin soundtracks! The two original side long pieces both extend from the cosmic swoosh into dynamic kraut-disco jams with incremental sequences accelerating through drum machine, neon-lit synth cascades, and more heavily phased guitar solos. Potter adds a third lengthy bonus track of similar material to round out this fantastic disc.
The Recent History discs compile various Potter projects from 1986-1989, and find him in more of a darker, somber mood with ritualized ambience drifting about his more earthen sounding sequences and sodden acoustic guitar melodies. While there's much of the same instrumentation, Potter's production also becomes far more complex with more of the shadowy, occluded techniques that he would later master during his tenure in Nurse With Wound. As such, these tracks tend to parallel some of the work of Coil and O Yuki Conjugate, and even predates some of the melodic aspects of the ambient side of IDM that would emerge five or six years later.
This is quite different from the song-based minimal wave album of early Colin Potter material released on Vinyl On Demand; but certainly showcases just how great all of those early tapes of his were and how well they hold up today!
For the longest time, when people into heavy music asked us who the best band in SF was, we would generally say Burmese (of course), maybe Slough Feg, sometimes the Fucking Champs, if they said EVER, then it would be Weakling hands down (or, well, we could argue for hours). But over the last few years, more and more amazing heavy bands have been giving those other bands a run for best-heavy-band-in-the-city money, none moreso than boy-girl-boy doom-crush psych-sludge trio Prizehog, who over the course of the last couple years have become the sort of band that should be HUGE. Every Melvins Nerd and Harvey Milk obsessive out there, should WORSHIP these guys (and gal). It's definitely only a matter of time, their records kill, but live they DESTROY, their set at our South By Southwest showcase was a stunner, and they sort of stole the show, and it's not hard to see why, especially here, on Prizehog record number two (number three if you count their long out of print debut cd-r), which finds the band further honing their sound, still present are of course massive skull caving drum pound, churning downtuned guitar chug, percolating sci-fi synths, the Melvins / Harvey Milk still huge, but Prizehog seem to want to be both a psychedelic space sludge band, and some sort of sludge pop band, and it's that split personality, that makes this shit rule, every song a push and pull between all out freakout, and hook heavy crunch, and somehow, instead of opting for one or the other, they simply figure out a way to do both at once, weaving impossibly catchy melodies, hooks galore into blackened doom sludge dirges, and then stretching that shit out into droned out psychedelic heaviness. The vocals a deep dramatic croon, the keyboard unleashing all manner of textures and psychedelic sounds, everything tangled up with the group's progged out downtuned crush.
All three songs here are great, but the 11 minute closer might be THEE jam here, a brooding slow build, all super textured and psychedelic, with some haunting harmony vocals, and twisted FX over a churning chug, and some doomic pound, the group allowing for lots of space, letting notes ring out, and gradually decay before the next hit, stretching it way out, before exploding into some serious mathed out noise rock pummel, only to then blossom into some weirdly progged out epic majestic bombast, before devolving into a closing coda of dirgey drum creep and blown out guitar moan, before a final blast of mathy crunch.
Released on the legendary Gravity Records label, which makes Prizehog labelmates with groups like Mohinder, Heroin, Clikatat Ikatowi, Angel Hair, The Locust, Man Is The Bastard, Universal Order Of Armageddon, Unwound and more! Fuck Yeah!
Woah! Francais Metal de Proto!!! Dunno if y'all remember a cd-r mix that was floating around a few years ago, featuring such obscure & amazing early '70s French proto-metal, heavy psych acts as Docdail, Les Variations, Chico Magnetic Band, Quo Vadis, Zoo, and this band, Rotomagus. It caused a bit of sensation 'round these parts. Seriously, there was some incredible, ahead-of-its-time heaviness on there. So whenever we track something down by any of those bands we get pretty dang excited. And this is the best reissue related to that to come along yet, an anthology of the complete recorded works of this group, responsible for the raucous, more proto-punk than proto-metal really track "Fighting Cock" on that comp, which also featured Rotomagus' equally radical singles tracks "Eros" and "Madame Wanda". Those are all here, of course, as well as five more tracks from 45s, and entirety of the band's even more maniacal final unreleased 1971 demo session, which includes rawer versions of "Fighting Cock" and a few of the other singles cuts too... 17 tracks in all. Quite a treasure trove!
Now, as we've previously discussed, a LOT of awesome music came out in 1971. But very little if any of it was quite as freaked out and fucking punk as "Fighting Cock"! Elsewhere, among the tracks here, there ARE some poppier, melodic moments, which only make the aggro acid rock explosions of most of the rest of the disc seem even more insane. Certainly the two flowery tracks from the band's debut 1969 single, lush and la-la-la filled, don't provide any warning of how crazed Rotomagus would sound just a year or two later. Too bad the band never got to record a proper album, but presumably the record company heard the full-length demo found here and, shocked, pulled the plug on Rotomagus's career, robbing the world of an early entree into a realm of Raw Power that it would take Iggy & the Stooges another couple years to achieve... Seriously, this stuff is proof that Rotomagus belong in the annals of the "early heavy", high energy division, alongside the likes of the Stooges, MC5, Sir Lord Baltimore, Jerusalem, Night Sun, Crushed Butler, Colored Balls, Cerebrum, May Blitz, and Detroit's Death.
So, if you want a disc full of distorted stomp, wailing wah-wah'd out geetar, and wild vocals, look no further! There's fuzz and FX a-plenty, plus schizoid proggery and other weirdness (like the chipmunk vocals of the single version of "Laureline"). The Hendrix-y title cut is almost tame by comparison to some of the rest of this stuff, which comes off like the Pink Fairies at their most punk... It's funny, France turned out some bands in the late '70s who sounded like the Stooges (Angel Face, Soggy) but who knew they had one this early too?
As with all Lion reissues, nicely appointed, with a 32 page booklet full of liner notes, in both English and French, including the (practically frothing with amazement and disbelief) review of the "Fighting Cock" single that the Seth Man originally scribed for Julian Cope's Head Heritage website a few years ago...
FYI there is also a double lp vinyl version of this planned for release sometime this fall.
There's always a long wait between issues, but as longtime readers of the aQ list know, it's always worth the wait. And we know lots of longtime aQ-ers, are also longtime fans of Salt, which is the way it should be. A very occasionally published zine, produced by our pal Kevin, a contributor to Rock-A-Rolla magazine, but with Salt, he gets to focus on his true passions, whether that means some obscure band, or some obscure wrestler, all part of the charm. And as we mention in pretty much every review, we keep hoping Salt will either become a proper mag, or in some way become a more regular thing, cuz every issue is a huge treat, and before we know it, we've burned through it and are already hankering for a new one.
This time around, things start off with a feature on another obscure zine, this one called German Bite, a fanzine focused on German art, film and theater, and a mag that we've never read, but from reading ABOUT it here, definitely has us curious to track down some copies. There's also an introduction to aQ faves Maher Shalal Hash Baz, originally intended for Salt #3 (and written in 2001!), as well as a lengthy piece enumerating the various ways that the author loves the late great Royal Trux. Then there's a great piece on the long lost late great seventies post punk / new wave combo Neu Electrikk (which featured one member who would go on to record/perform as Hwyl Nofio, a name familiar to most longtime readers of the aQ list), and an interview with the guy behind LTM Recordings, and finally an interview with Elephant Six psych poppers The Minders.
There are some comics, some editorial content, a tribute to the late great British abstract painter John Hoyland and more, and all for $5. Salt always comes highly recommended, especially in an age of blogs and webzines, we should treasure the folks out there who still make proper zines, especially when they're as good as Salt!
NOW ON VINYL!!
Only a few of us had even heard of this Scottish '80s indie sensation when this amazing reissue first hit our shelves but as soon as we listened we all instantly became huge fans and couldn't believe how they had managed to slip under our radar.
Coming out of the same scene that spawned The Pastels, this is really the precursor to the amazing twee and indie rock that would so dominate the underground music scene in the decade to come. Kind of like an impossibly amazing mix of Heavenly, The Vaselines and the driving spirit of early R.E.M. The songs of the Shop Assistants practically sound like the blueprints for K records. We have to believe folks like Beat Happening and The Softies had copies of this record when the whole International Pop Underground movement started up. We hear so much of our favorite indie pop sounds in this record: Magnetic Fields, Yo La Tengo, Belle & Sebastian, Electrelane, Vivian Girls, The Aislers Set, we could go on and on. It also makes perfect sense that Stephen Street engineered the record as it also fits so nicely sonically next to the records he worked on with The Smiths. The Shop Assistants can sound so dreamy and also so peppy and rocking, fully charming and irresistible without every being cutsey. This is a must have for anyone with a love for any of the bands mentioned above, indie rock, twee, dream pop, etc. Totally endearing and so damn good! If we have anything to do with it, Shop Assistants will no longer be the best kept secret in indie pop history. This is amazing!
Japan's Sigh are back again with more of their batshit bonkers symphonic black metal as only they can do it. If you liked their previous dizzying disc Scenes From Hell, or most of the ones before that, then In Somniphobia is a no brainer. More of their over the top orchestrated million mile an hour eccentricity, that can stop on a dime to veer from prog-power metal bombast to classical soundtrack atmospherics to frenzied oompah action to, uh, "Baker Street" style sax soloing. With buzzing synths and sound FX, widdly guitars and filthy vokills, jagged industrial beats and loungey jazz interludes, there's a LOT crammed into each of these eleven tracks. Unusual (for metal) instruments used include sitar, jaw harp, shortwave, sarangi, accordion, glockenspiel, etc. etc. And one thing they don't neglect (along with the kitchen sink) is a large dose of MELODY. Some of it's kinda cheesy, to be sure, but in chaotic juxtaposition with everything else, that melodiousness comes off as crazed and creepy as well. And makes their avant-garde metal surprisingly listenable. Sigh fans already know more or less what to expect... for everyone else, it's kinda like Cradle Of Filth as if conducted by John Zorn, or Mike Patton!
Guests include Metatron from likeminded loons Meads Of Asphodel and Kam Lee of Death/Massacre fame. And the cover art is again by Eliran Kantor, who has come up with an amazing painting here.
By the way, we just figured out that Sigh's studio albums have a special naming convention to 'em, kinda like how Morbid Angel's are arranged alphabetically (Altars of Madness, Blessed Are The Sick, Covenant, Domination, etc.). The first letter of the title of each Sigh album is either an S, I, G, or H, and chronologically in order, they've spelled out S-I-G-H-S-I-G-H-S-I so far...
The now-defunct San Francisco stoner/doom band Sleep has sure gotten a lot of mileage out of this record! Dopesmoker is the original Billy Anderson-recorded (and latterly, re-mastered) demo version of their final statement, the infamous one-song-long Jerusalem. Originally slated for release by major label London, they were dropped and the album was shelved, released only as a promo with no art. Then it got bootlegged (by the band themselves?), before at last seeing a legit release via The Music Cartel. The boot and the TMC versions had different artwork, naturally, so some Sleep aficionados had to have both... Now Tee Pee brings us the same record again, under its originally intended title, Dopesmoker. And it's a different, demo recording, with rougher, more Melvinsy vocals, the whole thing sounding actually dronier and dirtier and dirgier than the Jerusalem you're already used to -- and longer too! 64 minutes vs. just 52. The twelve extra minutes aren't due to additional "parts" though, as near as we can tell, it's just 'cause the everything's played slightly slower and/or more relentlessly repeated. Not sure why they cut it down for Jerusalem -- you'd think if you're gonna do a one-song, super long album of maximum riff-repetition you might as well make it as long as possible. Did London insist that they prune it down for radio play? Ha. Anyway, Sleep fans who find High On Fire just a little too fast for them may want to indulge in the tarpit Sabbath-sludge of Dopesmoker/Jerusalem once again with this release. For further fan-temptation we should note that there's actually another (bonus) track on the cd, a live recording the singer identfies as "Sonic Titan", nine more minutes of what sounds like Dopesmoker part 2. Comes in a digipack (or gatefold LP sleeve for the vinyl) with art by Arik Moonhawk Roper.
Record number three from this SF psych rock combo, and it's another heady blast of swaggery fuzz drenched psych stomp laced with fluttery freakfolk and big pop hooks. Like Fever before it these guys take the classic sounds of sixties San Francisco, and fuse them to the new wave or retro-psych that's all the rave, but all along Sleepy Sun has way more of a pop side, and a tendency toward shoegaze-y drift, and that really hasn't changed much on Spine Hits. The biggest change in fact, is in fact, the exit of vocalist Rachel Fannan, who's ethereal angelic voice definitely had a lot to do with the groups shoegazey sound. On Spine Hits the band seem to position themselves as much more commercial proposition, opener "Stivey Pound" the sort of jam that should have fans of the Black Keys and the White Stripes flipping their lids. We still hear plenty of Dead Meadow for sure, and lesser known aQ faves like Earl Greyhound and Malachai, but the sound is definitely arena ready, and would sound as amazing pumping from one of those massive sound systems as it does pouring through the open windows of your car as you cruise down the coast. Vocalist Bret Constantino has a killer raspy croon that has some Black Crowes too it too, but his voice totally reminds us of weirdo studio retro rock alchemists Malachai, although the sounds here are not nearly so tripped out. The record drifting from hushed almost Dead like slow jams, to blown out fuzz drenched dirges, and from hazy dream pop drifts, to groovy bouncy shuffles, but throughout, the songs kill, the guitars buzz, the rhythms shuffle, the songs swagger, and Sleepy Sun offer up a whole mess of hook heavy psychedelic fuzz pop, that while maybe a wee bit too polished for true psych-heads, is still pretty goddamn good.
When people talk about the 'happening' San Francisco music scene, they're not usually talking about The Lord Weird Slough Feg -- unless it's a denim-clad German metalhead who's doing the talking! Then, perhaps you'll hear them rave about these guys. Utterly trend-free true heavy metal rock n' roll, equal parts Thin Lizzy, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, Queen, Judas Priest, Manowar, Manilla Road...and some Black Flag too, but you'd have to really pay attention to hear that. Slough Feg's music is epic, rockin', riff-laden stuff with heroic vocals and tons of lead guitar. Their lyrics deal with fantasy, insanity, and Celtic myth. They released their first cd, a self-titled half-hour-long mini-album, on their own Beef Rock label back in 1996, and it has long since gone out of print. Since then, they've managed to develop a bit of a cult following in Europe (with two albums so far out on Italian metal label Dragonheart) as well as among a select group of enlightened American metal fans, including quite a few Aquarius customers. They also spawned the popular metal opera project Hammers of Misfortune (on Andee's tUMULt label). Now Miskatonic, the label run by Rich Walker of the godly British doom metal band Solstice, has done us the favor of reissuing Slough Feg's debut effort, with new packaging and, better yet, seven bonus tracks taken from Slough Feg's pitifully-circulated early '90s demo tapes. All remastered of course -- the demo tracks definitely sound better than before. It's nice to have this be available again, as the original cd featured several of Slough Feg's best songs: the Sabbathy "Shadows of the Unborn", the Irish jig "The Red Branch" (always a live favorite), parts III and IV of their prog-rock epic "High Season", the ripping yet melodic "20th Century Wretch", and others. The bonus tracks are equally great, including such otherwise unavailable Slough Feg classics as "The Mask" and the fuzzy, doomy "Headhunter", along with demo versions of "The Red Branch", parts I and II of "High Season", and "The Room" (a different version of which appeared on an obscure comp called "Metal Injection" a couple years ago).
They're definitely one of those love 'em or hate 'em bands, and lots of folks just aren't gonna "get" 'em. They're often seen to be too weird for a lot of metal fans, but also way too metal for everyone else. And the "extreme" metal crowd might find them too melodic as well. But for some -- not just me -- they're one of the best bands around. People who like The Fucking Champs for not-entirely-ironic reasons (or, actually, for those too, why not?) should check Slough Feg out. Slough Feg are *not* ironic, and *are* somewhat ridiculous, but they know it and have the nerve to do what they do anyway 'cause they love it. Besides, all that serious, dark, black, death metal can be pretty darn ridiculous too when you think about it or read the lyrics.
Amazingly (note: sarcasm), Miskatonic has managed to totally capture the amateur, self-released design aesthetic of the original in repackaging this. From the black and white cover drawing of the Drune Lord Slough Feg in his cave (by Martin Hanford, who is better known for his Bal-Sagoth album covers) to the crappy caligraphic font used throughout to the poorly reproduced band photos, bad layout, and typos in the lyrics, this might actually look *worse* than the 1996 version the band put out themselves...oh well...at least the "underground" vibe is intact! And it's in print, with bonus tracks, so we really can't complain. Note, though, that Miskatonic also managed to run the songs "Why Not" and "Highway Corsair" together as a single track (#5), instead of being tracks 5 and 6 the way they are listed on the back of the cd. Whoops. Perhaps the vinyl version, slated to appear at the end of the year on German label Metal Supremacy, will correct these superficial problems. But if you're not a vinyl diehard, this cd is certainly recommended now.
A few weeks ago we listed the debut, limited edition 7" single from Finnish/American hardcore hypno-punk supergroup Split Cranium. That was the teaser for this here Hydra Head full length, which includes that single's A side (the B side was a Daniel Menche remix) "Scepters To Rust", along with seven other (mostly) short sharp shocks of this band's noisy, gnarly, D-beat driven loud/fast attack. Featuring our pals Aaron Turner (Mamiffer, Isis, House Of Low Culture, etc.) and Jussi Lehtisalo (Circle, Pharoah Overlord, Steel Mammoth, etc. etc.) along with another of the guys who plays with Jussi in Steel Mammoth. Here's what we said about that track on the single: "Cranium splitting heaviness for sure. Pounding drums, kick ass riffs, massive HEAVY production, some seriously crusty punk blowouts woven into more metallic chug and crunch, peppered with wild squiggly metal shred freakouts, and bizarre echo drenched vocals, that make this sound very Circle-like indeed." Well, a Circle-like version of aggro crusty HC punk anyway (if you've got Circle's Panic cd from a while back, you've had a taste of this). And that pretty much goes for this whole album, starting from the 1:47 blast of "Little Brother", Split Cranium cranking out the raw distorted punkrock in race-to-the-finish, fist-in-your-face fashion. None of the first three tracks break the 2 minute mark, in fact, they get shorter and shorter. But then, with "Blossoms From Boils", the band starts to groove a little more, that's where the Turbonegro-doing-NWOFHM comparison we made in our 7" review comes in. They stretch that one out to almost 5 minutes, and as cranium-splitting headaches go, it's a darn catchy one. A couple tracks further along, we come to "Black Blinding Plague", a track that's about 50 percent just feedback, before the crush and churn and sore throat vokills come in and the party really starts. No wonder they got noisician/droneologist Daniel Menche to do that remix! (Though we wonder, was Merzbow not available?). And then a song called "Yellow Mountain" gets to gallopin', upping the "New Wave Of Finnish Heavy Metal" quotient while also bringing in some soaring, clean, chant-like vocals (mixed under/above the gruff shouty ones). Beginning to hear some early Circle here, circa Meronia, but more punked out for sure. That awesome headbanger is followed by the album's grand finale, the 8+ minute "Retrace The Circle". It takes the sound of "Yellow Mountain" and gets more epic and Isis-y with it, building into grand spaced out drone heaviness and ending with a totally distorted noise flourish. Wow. We're sold.
For a project such as this, with key members living many time zones apart, who probably spend more time emailing each other than they ever get to spend jamming together in the same practice space, it's damn convincing. But then, we'd expect nothing less from Jussi and Aaron, et. al. And while Circle and Isis fans should of course be interested in this, we feel Split Cranium is good enough to garner fans on their own merits. If we'd never heard of Circle or Isis or Steel Mammoth, we'd still be digging Split Cranium's freaked out HC.
Cd version comes in a nice oversized digipack sleeve, & there's also vinyl but we weren't able to get enough to list this week, hopefully more will show up soon...
Superbugger is a new duo made up of Antony Milton (Mrtyu, the Stumps, Nether Dawn, Sunken, ) and James Kirk (Sandoz Lab Technicians, Gate), both of whom have a long history in the NZ underground, and who in Superbugger, pay homage to the NZ bands that came before, most specifically the Dead C, Superbugger's sound a similarly blown out, in-the-red, crumbling pop flecked noise rock, as well as some sonic worship for the Japanese bands that pretty much invented psych-noise heaviness, Les Rallizes Denudes, Mainliner, White Heaven and the like. Sans headphones, listening to Superbugger, might be akin to the vacuum or the dishwasher, a constant barrage of grey noise, of staticky buzz and blurred thrum, but strap on some headphones, or crank those speakers, and let this corrosive psych-noise blowout wash over you. Wild squalls of psychedelic shred, caustic sheets of feedback, listen heard and you'll hear drumming, and vocals, melodies, there are definitely pop songs at the heart of some of these jams, while others take that pop element and tear it apart, spreading it out beneath a sky full of black noise and amp melting buzz. We hear plenty of Skullflower too, this definitely sounds like it could be some lost Broken Flag cassette reissued, which is high praise indeed, and while both of these guys have dabbled in psychedelic heaviness, Superbugger seems to be the culmination of these guys' quest for pure psych-noise nirvana, which is almost achievable just by listening.
Fans of any of the above mentioned bands, or anyone who loves cramming their ears full of blown out psych and noise rock crush, preferably both, will definitely find much to love about Supperbugger..
Close Timid Night is another hand-fabricated, super-limited production from the British eccentric sound artist Darren Tate. His field recording and drone-based work was part of the seminal collective Ora, which found Darren working closely with Andrew Chalk, Colin Potter, Michael Northam, and Jonathan Coleclough. Since then, he's loosened his grip on the drone and has encouraged atypical interactions between long passages of field recordings and an outsider approach to guitar and / or synth. He populates this piece with nocturnal domestic events of creaks from the attic, the ticking of a wind-up clock, the murmur of passing cars, the meowing of cats, and the occasional rattling water pipe all tied together with recordings of distant bursts of fireworks with none of the celebratory cheer and reveling that always echo the flashes of light and thunderous cracks. There's plenty of space for these starkly described environmental sounds, and Tate overlays a monotone hum and his meandering clusters of notes on his synthesized harpsichord. It gives the feel that Tate is allowing his mind to wander whilst peering through the window at the fireworks streaming over a nearby village. Not too sure how limited this one is, but probably somewhere around 50 copies would be our guess.
One of two new 7"s on the Trensmat label this week, the other, the most recent from NYC bliss poppers Cheval Sombre, is reviewed elsewhere on the list, and then there's this, a record from psychedelic space rock legends The Telescopes. And as we no doubt have mentioned before, folks into the current crop of psych/space rock, who dig folks like White Hills, Carlton Melton, Wooden Shjips, etc., who somehow haven't heard the Telescopes, well, shit, it's never too late, and odds are you're have another new favorite band, and loads of records to track down. And this 7" is as good a place to start as any, although it definitely offers up a less rocking side of the band, the A side, a brooding cover of the Nick Drake track "Black Eyed Dog", here rendered in shades of black and grey, thick blurred swells of smoldering guitar, laced with delicate skeletal spidery melodies, and soft shimmery clouds of barely there FX, the vocals a hushed croon, the original was dark, but this is seriously haunting and ominous, a gorgeous bit of moody minimal mesmer. The B side starts with a strange sort of intro, a minimal bit of banjo laid over a churning swirl of buzzing FX, with spoken word by John Sinclair (founder of the White Panther Party, and one time manager of the MC5), while the second song on the B side, continues on in a similarly abstract direction, a strange soundscape of lazer effects and buzzing guitar drone, of blurred feedback, and jagged shard of truncated melody, bits of percussion and recordings of random conversations drift along this tripped out stream of smeared psychedelic minimalism.
The record includes a download code, which not only gets you the 7"s tracks proper, but also includes a killer live track, that finds the band sounding more like Birchville Cat Motel or Sunroof!, with another sprawl of abstract guitardrone and ambient experimentalism, as well as an instrumental version of "Black Eyed Dog", featuring Bridget Hayden, and which cranks up the 7" version, adding more noise, more guitars, and turns it into something much more blown out and heady!
Super limited, with Trensmat releases we generally only get one shot, and once the batch we get runs out, that's it, which means, of course, you should grab one of these before they're all gone for good.
Read all about such extreme metal mavens as Meshuggah (on the cover), Cannibal Corpse, Aura Noir, Saint Vitus (ooh, new album in another couple weeks!), Bolt Thrower, Split Cranium, Alcest, Angel Witch, Grand Magus, Paradise Lost, Black Breath, Soulfly, Mastodon, Orange Goblin, Shining, and many more. Comes with the usual free cd sampler disc, and there's also an Electric Wizard 'poster' inside.
By now, probably everyone knows who Torche is, and has an inkling of what they sound like, but if not, you're in for a pretty kick ass surprise. Cuz these guys are like the pop band you always wished existed, in that they fuse big hooks and crazy melodies to massive downtuned guitar crush and pounding drum damage, and with every record, they seem to move further and further away from their sludgey beginnings and toward a sound that manages to be more and more accessible, without getting any less heavy. Seems impossible but it's true. Torche are like what we wished Queens Of The Stoneage sounded like, catchy as shit, and crazy heavy, just check out a track like "Kicking", with it's almost bubblegum chorus, and it's furious churning metallic main riff, the combination is pretty much a dream come true for folks like us who like our pop crazy catchy, and our heavy HEAVY. There were hints on past records of what these guys were capable of, but holy shit, Harmonicraft pretty much realizes all of that potential, it's so catchy and fun, and hooky and heavy, that it's almost like sonic candy, total heavy pop bliss, we've listened to this record probably 50 times in the last two weeks, and we're not even close to getting tired of it. For more in depth raving about Torche and their particular peculiar brand of sludge pop songcraft, you can check out the other Torche reviews on the aQ site, but for now, just know that this is probably THEE best heavy pop / sludge pop record this year, and heck, really any year, and based on how many plays this gets, it might just be a contender for RECORD of the year, pop, sludge or otherwise!!
Latest from local label comes this reissue from the before now unknown to us Trepaneringsritualen, who hail from Sweden, and who most definitely sound Swedish, unfurling a sort of bleak black ambience, a drifting Cold Meat Industry style grim malevolence, underpinned by woozy snake charmer melodies, muted skeletal rhythmic pulses, croaked, FX heavy vokills, all over a washed out shimmery haze, this is the sort of ritualistic soundscapery that relies more on texture that sheer power, but in that respect, it manages to conjure up something more more harrowing, a haunting, hypnotic chunk of blackened tribal psychedelia, sounding a bit like No Neck or Sunburned Hand if they were on Cold Meat, but for every bit of tripped out, pulsing, abstract krautrock flecked black mesmer, there's a churning sprawl of low end thrum, or a dense layered stretch of blurred soft focus ambience. Those sounds more often than not mixed and matched, fused in strange, and fantastically disturbing combinations.
LIMITED TO 150 COPIES!! Packaged in beautifully silkscreened gold inked three panel J-cards.
The last time we heard from U.S. Girls, it was on a split single from the as-of-then-unknown project Dirty Beaches, a one-man band which pretty much exploded onto the scene with a drug'n'drone approach to rockabilly minimalism later perfected on his universally acclaimed album Badlands. On that single, Dirty Beaches was a perfect match for the equally deconstructed, if far more fucked-up anti-pop from U.S. Girls - the one-woman project of Meghan Remy. There and on her two lps for Siltbreeze, she purposefully imploded crooning electro-pop ditties, smearing the fragments with crusty noise and hallucinatory echo. It turns out that Remy's aggressively lo-fi aesthetic was built out of necessity; and she claimed in an interview once that she'd love to make an overly produced, glossy pop album. Those claims should be taken with a pretty hefty grain of salt, as her album U.S. Girls On Kraak is thoroughly damaged, even as it enjoys a much cleaner production. The cover of the disposable RnB hit "The Boy Is Mine" from Monica & Brandi takes a nasty, stalker-like turn towards the gritty minimal-wave of early Cold Cave even as Remy croons the lyrics with considerable aplomb. Elsewhere, her synths are decidedly sharp and jagged, and her voice is cat-scratched and wild-eyed, set above similarly imploded songs from her earlier albums with a few more flares like a Patsy Cline ballad soaked in equal parts cheap liquor and reverb or a Nina Hagen-esque demonic cabaret number. Yeah, it's pretty fucked-up; and that's the way we like it!
Calling all psychedelic warlords, your spaceship is about to blast off! Space is the place, the place for dooooom! Yes, those mystical wizards of doom-riffed space rock, Italian power trio UFOmammut, have returned from the stars to crush all Earthlings with a new album, this time released domestically by the Neurot label, run by the Neurosis folks. Which makes a LOT of sense. Their mutual love of Hawkwind being but one thing that would make these two bands likely BFFs.
Track one, "Empireum", is a typical UFOmammut slow-build of sci-fi synth drone that only kicks into maximum density at about the 10 minute mark, with crashing drums, howling guitar, and spaced out screams. Actually, everything is spaced out, druggy, and heavily effected, of course, with heaviness and FX being two of UFOmammut's hallmarks after all. And it's no wonder that almost everyone involved is credited with both "synths" and "screams".
Next up, the equally epic, fuzz pounding "Aureum" could simply be a continuation of "Empireum", and really, the entirely of Oro: Opus Primum, while divided into 5 individual "songs", could almost be regarded as one lengthy, continuous piece, each track synth-ily segueing into the next... In fact that's the plan, UFOmammut envisioning Oro as a ten-part, alchemical composition; the second half of which, Opus Alter, being due for release in September. So we have that to look forward to, after allowing several months for the five part Opus Primum to blast away at our brains by itself.
We could go on, and on, describing the heavy FX-laden chuggery - and occasional interlude of cosmic calm - of this first of the two Oro opi. But heck we've made a couple previous UFOmammut slabs Records Of The Week, so you know we love 'em, and you probably do too, and this one is no disappointment, following on perfectly from the trippy "dooooom in SPAAAAAAACE" sound of their prior album Eve, and others. Doubtful we could outdo those earlier reviews of ours in describing UFOmammut's sound(z), so please refer to those write-ups if you are new to the band. Otherwise, as we said, all aboard, blasting off!
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
One of two amazing new compilations from Mississippi, along with the Sticks Over My Shoulder blues com found elsewhere on this week's list, there's Bed Of Pain, an amazing collection of Rembetika and Greek folk music, all culled from 78's (and never reissued on lp before) and representing a broad swath of Greek music, including tunes from before and after the 'golden age' of music making in Greece, as well as a handful of tracks from the Greek diaspora in the U.S., all linked by common themes, of hardship, escape and the quest for a better life.
It's hard to know how exactly to describe this stuff, other than to say we love it. Gorgeous male and female vocals, acoustic guitars and buzzing bouzouki melodies, bluesy ballads and wild gypsy folk jams, dances and marches, some mournful and moving, others dramatic and moody, and still others wild and celebratory. Even for folks not that well versed in Greek music, this is a treat, and will no doubt have you hunting for more.
Housed in a thick old school style tip on sleeve, with a printed set of liner notes inside, written by Ian Nagoski, who has curated some of our favorite comps: Black Mirror, Brass Pins & Match Heads, String Of Pearls, among others.
This double 7" is not brand new, but it came with a batch of new stuff we finally got from Kraak, one of our favorite labels. Not sure what this double 7" is exactly, a label sampler maybe, we have a vague recollection of it commemorating a tour with all these bands, regardless, it's a pretty jam packed comp, with lots of aQ faves, the A side is outsider psych folk one man band Amen Dunes, with a track from his recently released Ethio Songs single, which finds him covering obscure Ethiopian pop songs, and it's the perfect combination, the original melodies and lyrics (sounds like he's actually singing the lyrics) still in tact, but the overall sound a bit more ramshackle and reverby, another one of those instances, where we sort of wish it wasn't a cover, and there was just a band that sounded like this all the time. Still, super awesome. The flipside starts out with Warm Climate, who we had never heard before, and whose sound is a sort of feedback drenched post punk, all low slung basslines, tribal drumming, and childlike vox, very rhythmic and propulsive, definitely into hearing more. The second track comes from long time aQ fave Ignatz, a glorious slab of lo-fi bedrooom folk, all detuned guitars and Dylan like vocal drawl, and spidery melodies over muted strum.
The second single starts out with another aQ fave Marisa Anderson, who played an instore here not too long back, and whose track here is a stunner, a fantastic slab of distorted electric guitar blues, lots of slippery slide and Appalachian fingerpicking, so good. Up next is Nathan Bowles, who offers up a short blast of old timey bluegrass stomp, and finally, the whole D side is given over to Bridget Hayden, who weaves a gorgeously minimal sprawl of gauzy Grouper-ish drift, hazy effected vocals over brittle lo-fi guitar strum, all druggy and washed out, softly psychedelic and dreamy.
Fairly limited we'd presume, housed in a swank heavy full color gatefold sleeve!
What a great comp! Rare but amazing examples of "Black music" (that's the European term) from the '70s, done with a heavy helping of at-the-time cutting edge electronics. Spaced out soul, in other words. Well, obviously it wasn't just cosmic krautrockers and spacey prog bands in the '70s messing around with the latest in synthesizers and other electronic music-making devices. Why wouldn't soul, funk, gospel, and RnB artists also make use of all that newfangled machinery? Of course they would, with folks like Herbie Hancock and Sun Ra leading the way. And they did. Especially those making music at home, without access to big studio budgets. That's the "Personal" part of the title, the songs here pretty much all being solo DIY home-brewed recordings, enabled by the technology... Which, along with the futuristic/sci-fi vibes that go along with the tech, give a lot of this a bit of an additional eccentric "outsider" feel, just check out the artist known as Starship Commander Woo Woo, for instance!
So, the compilers of this collection have dug deep, to find all these fantastic selections of what you could call "electronic soul", that in the mainstream we'd really only previously heard from Shuggie Otis... so if you can imagine Shuggie Otis really way out in spaaaace, you've got an idea of what's happening here.
Fat, buzzing synths. The mechanical tick-tock of primitive drum machines. Spacey FX galore. Mega multitracked masterpieces. Yeah, it'd all be novelty, if these songs weren't good. But, they ARE good. Obscure but definitely grade-A stuff in our book. The sci-fi sounds (which make a lot of this seem simultaneously '70s retro but also very up-to-date electronica-ish) are put to use by artists who come across like mutant Stevie Wonders and Sly Stones. There's 17 tracks here, from names we doubt you've ever heard of before: Jeff Phelps, Guitar Red, Johnnie Walker, U.S. Aries, The Makers, Cotillion, Spontaneous Overthrow, Jerry Green, Johnson, Key & Cleary, The New Year, T. Dyson & Company, Steve Elliot, Deborah Washington, and the aforementioned Starship Commander Woo Woo. Kinda hard to pick faves, some are simply groovy, some super bizarre, many both at once...
The only omission we can think of, is that even though this gets into the '80s, there's nothing from Wicked Witch on here (see our review of EM's reissue of that if you aren't familiar). But what's here is plenty weird & wonderful, from the twangy zipzap of bluesman Guitar Red's "Disco From A Space Show" to the heavily echo-effected "My Bleeding Wound" by The New Year...
Nicely presented, the cd in deluxe hardbound booklike slipcased packaging, complete with liner notes including thumbnail images of each original release. And the vinyl version is a 180 gram double lp, also nicely packaged.
Folks who've visited aQuarius in person no doubt have noticed the little mini arcade going on, we have Tron, Joust, Ghosts & Goblins and Rastan, and if we had more room, you can bet there'd be more. And along with out love of classic arcade games, comes with a nostalgia and extreme appreciation for the video game music that soundtracked so much our our childhood. Glorious symphonies in 8-bit sound, from goofy and playful bloops and bleeps to haunting and ominous buzzing soundscapes (we'd posit that Rastan has some of the best music EVER, and not just video game music), even removed from the context of the game, those songs and sounds displayed an amazing creativity, doing so much with so little, this impossibly limited sonic palette birthing an impossibly kaleidoscopic array of sounds. We've reviewed a handful of 8-bit recordings in the past, there being a bit of a resurgence in chip-tunes, folks making new music out of modded chips from vintage video games, heck we've even gone so far as ONE-bit sounds, becoming a bit obsessed with the compositions of one bit composer Tristan Perich. But this new collection holds a special place in our hearts, as some of us here at aQ, long before everyone had a personal computer in their house (and in their phone!), were the proud owners of what was once cutting edge personal computing technology, the Commodore 64! Complete with CASSETTE TAPE DRIVE!! It seems laughable now, but the C64 definitely inspired a cult of nerds, one that remains strangely obsessed to this day. Which brings us to SID Chip Sounds, which is in fact, a collection of music from classic Commodore 64 games, and for the 8-bit and C64 obsessed out there, this is totally essential, a handful of classics, and a bunch of weird games we'd never heard of, but all the sounds so fun and cool, the sounds driving and hypnotic, goofy and even psychedelic, and so weirdly prescient of the current fascination with lo-fi sounds and experimental electronics. In fact much of this could totally pass for some modern cd-r releasing bedroom electronics tinkerer. But that said, so much of this stuff is just so masterfully composed and created, again, conjuring up lush landscapes and intricately melodic passages, from an incredibly limited palette. Dig deep into this comp, and you'll hear tracks that sound like video game krautrock, spaced out 8-bit cosmic disco, and some swirly new agey ambience, even one that sorta sounds like Deep Purple, but all delivered via a fantastically antiquated lo-bit delivery system, and with a sound that manages to be nostalgic, but in its own weird way sort of timeless! Composers include Rob Hubbard, Martin Galway, Ben Daglish, and more, doing themes for such games as Last Ninja, Gauntlet 3, Glider Rider, Commando, and Arkanoid, among others.
**MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT** **MISSISSIPPI RECORDS ALERT**
Nobody does comps like Mississippi, whether it's blues, gospel, Rembeteka, whatever, every Mississippi comp is like some amazing mixtape made for you by that one guy with the most amazing record collection ever. An older brother, an uncle, somebody's cool mom or dad. Every single one offers up a whole new world of music to explore, and this one is no different. A collection of Georgia bluesman, recordings gathered up in the late seventies by George Mitchell, who was doing field research for the Georgia Grassroots Music Festival, in an attempt to track down actively performing bluesmen, which apparently was no easy feat, but the six artists here all pretty amazing finds.
There's John Lee Ziegler who strings his guitar with bass strings, has a gorgeous high clear voice, and who on one track is accompanied by a guy playing the spoons! There's also William Robertson, who has a cool, weird whiny nasal voice, but one that's perfectly suited to his slithery guitar style. Jim Bunkley has a super percussive strumming guitar style which is perfectly matched to his gruff belted vocals. There's also Jimmy Lee Williams who has a rich warm guitar sound, and another distinctive vocal style. And finally, there's James Davis, who plays fierce instrumental electric blues, always accompanied by a drummer, playing just a bass drum and a kettle drum, and folks around those parts still call Davis's music 'drum music'!
So cool. Housed in nice thick old school style tip on jackets, the extensive liner notes printed on the back.
Few could argue with the influence of Bathory on all the black metal that would follow, and this double disc compilation bears testament to that, a pretty serious lineup of groups, many of them aQ faves, some more obscure, some of them only barely black metal, but all paying tribute. Just check out the list: Sigh, Meads Of Asphodel, Nokturnal Mortum, Gods Tower, Gnaw Their Tongues, Old Corpse Road, Wolves Of Avalon, Folkvang, Koldbrann, Darkest Era, Ravens Creed, Skyforger, and the list goes on. And while the songs are all Bathory, the sounds differ dramatically, from murky raspy, black buzz, to pounding punkish thrash, and from blown out black dirgery to epic, folk flecked power metal. Gnaw Their Tongues, who might be of the most interest to non black metallers, delivers his most black metal jam yet, which you'd be hard pressed to peg as a GTT track, a churning, buzzing black frenzy, that manages to sound as troo and grim as any of the other bands here. And of course Sigh choose to confound as usual, offering up their version of "Under The Runes", that sounds like some twisted electro-new wave groove, laced with Japanese melodies, cheesy slow jam sax, weird FX, and garbled vox. The rest of the comp is much more true to the originals, and at once speaks to the power and the timelessness of Bathory's songs, but also to how their influence inspired so many disparate variations of a sound that in some ways is one of the cornerstones of modern BM.
Also included is a 30 minute interview with Bathory's Quorthon (RIP), originally recorded in 1996 for the Godreah zine, which shares its name with the label that released this, both of which were the work of one of the Meads Of Asphodel!
Scott from local heavies Kowloon Walled City turned us on to these guys, knowing full well of our love for classic math rock, and holy shit, how did we not know about these guys? Their sound is essentially a modern version of that classic nineties sound, think Rodan, Shellac, June Of 44, A Minor Forest, Rumah Sakit, the same sort of dense, intricate arrangements, melodic and carefully crafted, with a distinct emo vibe, and blasts of explosive heaviness, interspersed with spidery, skeletal passages of delicate melody and woozy loping rhythms, the best parts when those various elements come together. Probably the most distinctive element is the addition of violin, which gives the sound a darkly dramatic vibe, at times conjuring up a slow build tension a la Godspeed, and at others channeling something more like the Dirty Three or Rachel's, but when the drums are pounding and the guitars are crunchy, and the violin is singing, it's pretty goddamn great. The recording too is crisp and clean, letting all the instruments shine, even at its most dense and busy, and the vocals are pretty ace too, usually a weak spot in bands like this.
And while these guys tend toward the more melodic side of math rock (unlike some of the above mentioned bands who leaned toward the heavy), Ventid are certainly capable of some serious rocking, but the fact that the playing is so nimble is what makes this stuff so good, these guys can flit from spidery psychedelic tangle to mathed out churn, to near metallic pound and back again without breaking a sweat. Plenty of stop/starts, and some serious stretches of progged out majesty, and all the while, these guys are writing some seriously catchy songs, you'll find yourselves lulled and entranced by some mathy movement, when all of a sudden a guitar or vocal melody will pop out, and lodge itself in your head. Really great stuff, and kicking ourselves big time for only finding out about these guys now.
Packaged in super cool hand screened jackets, and probably pretty limited.
Many of you probably remember a strange release from a group called Throne Of Blood, that we reviewed years ago. Beyond the music, the packaging was ridiculous and amazing, a rubberized dvd style case, with evil looking faces and vines and flowers and a unicorn, complete with a glass eye, all molded into the cover, Evil Dead Necronomicon style. At the time we thought no bad could live up to that crazy packaging, but somehow Throne Of Blood did. A furious grinding noise metal juggernaut with wild splattery drumming and shrieked vocals, short sharp bursts of fuzzy, fucked up lo-fi Melt-Banana like noiserock math metal which KILLED. And then to seal the the deal, the second half of the record was just the first half in reverse, which transformed the sound into a tripped out metallic psychedelia. We had often wondered what happened to ToB. And now we now what happened to at least one of them, they ended up in this warped, twisted outfit, a duo called Vvltvre, whose sound we had seen described as sludge/doom, and while much of this is, some of it is way more fucked up and far out, in fact, most of it is. Just check out the opening title track, which spends its first few minutes unfurling some sort of creepy ritual, all tinkling chimes, distant drum pound, weird breathing, seriously demonic vocalizing, the sound growing increasingly more agitated, louder and more caustic, the drums becoming more tribal, the vox weirdly processed, resulting in something that sounds like a way more damaged and demented and blackened version of No Neck / Sunburned Hand / Avarus, until about 7 minutes in, the song explodes into a churning blackbuzz dirge, the black buzz provided by what sounds like an insanely distorted bass, while the tribal drums pound away underneath, think The Body crossed with Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, a sort of blacknoise doom, or a noise rock sludge, when the band lock into these dense looped rhythms, it almost sounds like a Lightning Bolt 45 spinning at 16 rpm. The opening track gradually begins to revert to the opening, like some sort of doom sludge palindrome, the sound getting more abstract, the rhythms more spare, a death march pound, over rumbling crumbling low end, laced with some cool tripped out backwards effects.
The B side follows a similar pattern, beginning with some ritualistic ambience, chanted vox, soft focus chordal shimmer, barely there percussion, then the drums come in, and it remains hauntingly tribal, like some ancient sonic ritual, and then eventually, the track again splinters into some seriously harsh heaviness, reminding us a bit of Monarch for sure, but with a definite Whitehouse vibe, the sort of droned out buzz beneath near hysterically shrieked vox, which again eventually erupt into some pounding noise rock dirgedoom mathiness. The third side mixes things up by foregoing the heaviness completely, and instead offering up a sprawling rhythmscape, all abstract drum pound, gurgling low end, subtly employed effects, lots of dark drones and washed out thrum, a gorgeous bit of meditative abstract ambient doom minimalism, which gives way to the closer, the 15 minute D side, which is all bass drone for the first 6 minutes, super minimal and hushed, before the drums creep in, beneath clouds of cymbal shimmer, the bass growing more distorted, the final few minutes, a strange lurching, stuttering feedback drenched, super dynamic slo-mo math doom that ends WAY too soon.
WAY recommended for fans of Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, Khanate, Moss, Bunkur, Gnaw Their Tongues, Monarch, Wicked King Wicker, Wolf Eyes, Otesanek, Habsyll, Human Quena Orchestra and other purveyors of slow, low sonic sickness.
Fantastically packaged in a deluxe gatefold sleeve, with some super striking artwork, while inside lurks a gorgeous handmade 32 page booklet, hand painted and glitter-ed, LIMITED TO 500 COPIES.
Latest release from Tim Presley, aka one man lo-fi garage rock / noise pop band White Fence, a sprawling two volume collection of jams, culled from supposedly over 80 tracks, and this collection is a doozy, like past WF records, a collection of super varied pop weirdness, from super catchy indie jangle, to super fuzzy Kinks worship, from damaged zoner psych, to in the red garage punk swagger, and pretty much every stop in between. We're tempted to compare this to the Sopors, whose 7" we reviewed last list, another rad blast of weird pop from a twisted loner genius, and while the Sopors record is seriously damaged and on the verge of collapse, the sounds here are significantly more polished, but only some of the time.
The first volume is the poppier of the two, just check out the opening one-two punch, "Swagger Vets And Double Moon", with its programmed drums, psychedelic leads, reverbed vocals, fuzzed out guitar, shuffly rhythm, and then "Long White Curtain", which is total British Invasion worship, with a seriously strange lo-fi mix, the leads practically bursting from the speaker, while the rest of the sounds are dialed way back. And so it goes, wherever Presley's twisted sensibilities take him, there's the lilting dreamy fuzzy twee pop of "Do You Know Ida Know", which sounds almost like Ween, with its weird processed vox, or the fuzzy organ driven shuffle pop of "It Will Never Be", that locks into a hazy krautpsych loop and warbled and warps, while spidery guitars coil themselves around that main groove, or "Hey! Roman Nose", which is total lo-fi bedroom pop, with a little bit of that Purling Hiss style seventies power pop mixed in, and the first volume finishes off with "Daily Pique" a fuzzy psychedelic groove with weird vocals, and an even weirder production.
The second volume seems decidedly weirder, although it starts off with a dreamy bit of synth driven balladry, that sounds weirdly like the Frogs, which is most definitely not a bad thing, "She Relief" wraps some garage pop in squiggly leads and all sorts of piano pound and psychedelic freakout, before "I'd Sing" brings things back down, unfurling as a little stretch of psych guitar laced bedroom pop murk.
Things do definitely become more and more unhinged, lots of weird synths, and strange experimental song structures, noise guitar freakouts, even the poppiest jams are all twisted up, doused in effects, tangled up into weird arrangements, but somehow it suits them, and we find ourselves digging the second volume as much as the first, if not more.
Ty Segall and Mikal Cronin and John Dwyer might be getting most of the love (rightfully so), but folks who like their garage rock and indie pop a bit more fucked up and fractured, twisted and confusional, White Fence might just be your cup of spiked tea.
FYI, along with this cd twofer version, each volume is available individually on vinyl, though we only have Vol.2 in stock at the moment.
Longtime lo-fi troubadour R. Stevie Moore is on the cover, maybe just 'cause the photo the had of him - all white beard/hair and glasses (with flipped up clip-on shades) - is so good! Also in this issue of this monthly must-read: Annea Lockwood, Bass Clef, Traxman, Nik Colk Void, Mira Calix, Jan Jelinek (doing the Invisible Jukebox), and more, including a "Global Ear" scene feature on Kingston, Jamaica. And reviews, reviews, reviews...
The latest sonic assault from UK black ambient drone/noisescapers Wraiths, the perfect continuation of their Dust In Out Mouths record, which we reviewed here recently, starting off with some haunting monk like chants, before immediately launching into a smeared soundscape of abject feedback, and groaning industrial crunch, the sound murky and muddy, as if recorded beneath the surface of the earth, the sounds a slow moving avalanche of rumble and whir, or screech and howl, all sort of blurred into black and grey swirls, the sound surprisingly dynamic, shifting from black noise crunch, to a more woozy washed out low end rumble and back again. Not nearly as washed out and Caretaker-ish as Dust, this is definitely a noisier companion, exploring much of the same territory, but delving way deeper, the earth rent asunder, as Wraiths descend into the hellish depths, the high end tones almost sounding like the wails of lost souls, the rumbling roiling grinding buzz, a sonic representation of the earth crumbling beneath our feet, the sound of everything disappearing into a black abyss, and yet amidst all this grim black malevolence, and harrowing musical misery, lurk buried melodies, accidental rhythms, the surface here and there, but for the most part, churn beneath the surface, adding more layers and extra texture to the already dense tectonic blackness of Wraiths' sinister soundworld. Fans of Wolf Eyes, MZ412 and other practitioners of the sonic dark arts will definitely dig.
LIMITED TO 100 COPIES!!
Latest from these SF shoegazers, and like the last one, Friends For Now, In Between finds the band's sound falling somewhere between Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine and Blonde Redhead, this time maybe even some Mazzy Star. Right out of the gate, the band take the sound of the last records, and blur it even more, unleashing a lazy, sprawl of smeared chords, breathy female vox, simple skeletal rhythms, all wreathed in a cloud of gauzy shimmer, total mid-nineties style dreampop, and YP do it better than most, taking simple pop songs, and dousing them in effects, the production lush and layered, allowing for a heavy part to somehow get even heavier, usually with a sudden eruption of low end, or a strange thickening of the guitar sound, however they do it, it makes for some heady psych pop bliss out for sure.
The rest of the record follows suit, with dreamy boy/girl vox, chiming guitar jangle, swirling effects, hooks galore, soaring choruses, with much of In Between sounding like it could have come from the Slumberland back catalog, which is not a bad thing at all. The band equally adept at fuzzy girl group style reverb shimmer pop and crunchy fuzzy shoegaze, the record rife with MBV-isms, but the band employ them in a way that makes MBV seem like an influence, rather than In Between sounding like an inadvertent homage.
There are so many great bands in SF these days, but as far as blissed out jangle and shoegaze dream pop, nobody can touch Young Prisms. So good.
