As we mentioned in our review of a recent tape on The Tapeworm Label from the mysterious one man outfit Pye Corner Audio, we've had trouble getting/keeping ANYthing in stock, everything disappearing and going out of print before we could get enough to review or list. This 12" looks to be just as scarce, already on its second or third pressing, and we imagine not long for this world. The work of someone called the Head Technician, Pye Corner Audio typically exists in a space shared by such like minded outfits as Demdike Stare and the Caretaker, twisted electronics, psychedelic soundscapes, blissed out sci-fi synthiness, all of which is present here, but to a much smaller degree as Superstitious Century finds the Head Technician taking a stab at a vintage sound that's much more dancey and clubby, and somehow he pulls it off, managing to channel those sounds from dancefloors past and imbue them with the more twisted vibe of other Pye Corner jams, from pulsing slomo house music, to AFX style skitter, to gorgeous crumblingly distorted synth swells, to lilting minor key melodies, to laid back slow grooves, to softly psychedelic drifts...
Pressed on bright yellow vinyl, each one numbered, and limited enough that we're not sure we'll be able to get more of these once they're gone!
Finally managed to get more copies of this perennial AQ favorite, but unfortunately, the only distributor we've ever been able to get them from recently went out of business so we may not be able to get them again. So don't miss out! Here's our review from way back:
If you liked "Sounds of North American Frogs" or "Insect Noise In Stored Foodstuffs", or Chris Watson's exotic animal recordings, here's another discovery we recently made in the AQ-beloved field-recordings genre.
In a blind test, it would be impossible to tell these Antarctic animal sounds from the most cutting edge experimental electronica that we sell at Aquarius! And according to the liner notes, the recordings found on this disk received no processing aside from being recorded using a "multi-headed array of hydrophones [underwater microphones]" and then mixed down (for great stereo sound). But some of the recordings, most notably the underwater recordings of Weddell seals, really seem like they could be the first installment of some new modern minimal electronic series, as they would fit in nicely next to the likes of Noto and Pan sonic. The underwater seals track features sweeping squeals like a whale song being sped up and slowed down and mixed with Stephen McGreevy's recordings of electro-magnetic atmospheric phenomena. It's as if the seals are secret knob-twiddlers in an electronic music studio. In other words, you could have a field day getting your "clicks & cuts" lovin' friends to guess who this "new avant-electronica artist" is! Also included on this cd are several recordings from the surface of the Antarctic continent as well: seal mothers and pups, Emperor & Adele penguins, a six minute track of a shattering & creaking glacier, and the brief but beautiful "Wind Harps From The Taylor Valley". This disc became a "AQ-fave recommendation" practically the minute we first heard it!! Maybe we're jaded, and have to listen to penguins frolicking to get our musical kicks, but it just seems so amazing. Wait until you hear it! Incredible and so essential.
We've been lucky, with the resurgence of vinyl, there's been lots of "essentials" reissued on lp lately, and this is one of 'em!! As we've noted before (we're cribbing a bit from our own review of their 'best of' cd on Sub Pop), Radio Birdman were the mid-'70s Australian re-incarnation of the MC5 and The Stooges, lead by Detroit-transplant Deniz Tek (guitarist, songwriter, and later a fighter pilot and doctor!), and damn were they good. Being half a world away and several years removed from Detroit ground zero, Birdman's homage to their proto-punk Grande Ballroom heroes was no rip-off, their penchant for surf-guitar licks being but one point of departure. Other influences include VU, BOC, and Alice Cooper. Legends in Australia, they're more like an obscure rock footnote over here, but once you're into 'em, you'll be really into 'em!
This 1977 album was their first full-length, and a total classic (whichever edition you get, there were actually two with slightly different tracklists, this is the '78 overseas one). It includes their cover version of The 13th Floor Elevators' "You're Gonna Miss Me" along with Birdman classics like "Aloha Steve & Danno", "Murder City Nights", "Do The Pop", "New Race", and "Man With The Golden Helmet". Apparently the 4 Men With Beards who put this out like a little rock action now and then, not just beard-stroking jazz, folk and kraut...
We have loved this band since we were in high school, when we first picked up a copy of the Red Temple Spirits' first record. That album - Dancing To Restore An Eclipsed Moon - became something we've returned to over and over again. Then, it was a more adventurous, post-apocalyptic, and lysergically tainted take on the British post-punk / goth-pop albums of my youth. You know, Love & Rockets, Siouxsie, The Smiths, The Cure. But later, upon discovering the Syd Barrett fronted Pink Floyd records, Twink's Think Pink, and the Outsiders' CQ, Red Temple Spirits seemed less to fit in with their contemporaries and more of a feral updated expression of psychedelic awakening of those bands from the '70s. The basslines from Red Temple Spirits may have been lifted wholesale from Steven Severin of Siouxsie & The Banshees, and the guitars could hit the jagged, sparkplug bursts of Gang Of Four or even Crime (but for the most part, they paralleled the dark-eyed jangle of the Abecedarians); but the arrangements were far more convoluted - at times shambolic and rambling, and at others ritualistically intense.
The band emerged out of the LA goth-punk scene in 1987, when bassist Dino Paredes departed Psi-Com, which was fronted by none other than Perry Farrell (who would go on to form Jane's Addiction) only to find another amazing frontman in the form of William Faircloth. This British ex-pat was equal parts doomsayer and acid casualty, eagerly waxing poetic about the latter through the lens of the former. Many of these visionary tales mapped out a basic philosophy of universalist gnosticism - "The Light Of Christ" addresses a common gnostic precept that an inner wisdom is trapped within the human condition and can be tapped through meditation, invocation, rigorous study, whatnot, but not before passing through allusions to Buddhism and animism. Vocally, Faircloth sounds a hell of a lot like Black Francis / Frank Black trying to do a Syd Barrett impersonation - a demonic, tonal yelp with a faint trace of a British lisp.
The band produced two albums, the aforementioned Dancing To Restore An Eclipsed Moon (1988) and the nearly impossible to find If Tomorrow I Were Leaving For Lhasa, I Wouldn't Stay A Minute More (1989). The bulk of copies of the latter all seemed to end up in Greece for whatever reason, and given the prices for the album online, must have been single handedly supporting the Greek economy. The debut is an astonishing album that sprawls from languid dirges to frenetic punk-pop songs all lead in dramatic fashion by Faircloth. The second album attempts to tighten up some of the more unhinged aspects, with a few more conventional psych-rock songs but when they hit the cover of Pink Floyd's "Set The Controls To The Heart Of The Sun," it really is a twisted acid trip launched beyond Earth's orbit, through pounding tribal rhythms, Keith Levene-esque guitar scratchiness, and Faircloth's belted vocals. Both of those albums are present in their entirety here, along with some choice bonus tracks (including a really tripped out version of 13th Floor Elevators' "Rollercoaster") as well as a third disc of demos.
This 3cd set also marks the reinvention/reactivation/resurfacing of Bruce Licher's Independent Project Records, complete with the amazing letterpress folios he was creating back in the '90s. Faircloth was actually one of Licher's press technicians after Red Temple Spirits broke up, and Red Temple Spirits and Licher's Savage Republic were certainly coming from the same headspace. The major difference being that Red Temple Spirits was actually a way better band, if criminally under-appreciated. Very highly recommended!
We at aQ are big fans of Brooklyn-based psych-splorers Rhyton (made their Thrill Jockey debut a Record Of The Week in fact) and Rhyton it seems are fans of us too it seems, since they were nice enough to dub us an exclusive limited supply of a new cassette of theirs, originally something they made only for merch sales on a recent European tour. aQ is the only store carrying this release, and we only have 20 copies, that's it forever!
Unity Bailout is 30 minutes, four tracks, of live and rehearsal recordings, the sort of spacey, druggy, drifting jams we expect from these guys (members of No Neck Blues Band and Psychic Ills, by the way). The tape starts off with the 12 minute "Mold Channel", a sprightly, trippy-hippie improv session of head-nodding abstract humid burble all right. Then the darker, dronier "At Endless Buggy Pt. Alpha" begins, featuring more militant marching drum beats and skree-ier guitarwork. Flip the tape and that piece continues into "Pt. Beta", adding some more mumbled, distorted vox, the guitar (and electric saz?) lines getting more sinuous and scrambled, noise and volume building, that buggy of theirs heading down a bumpy road indeed, losing a wheel or two along the way! Such a style of caveman krauty damaged jam is in full effect on the tape's final track too, the almost ten-minute long "In Silent One", even louder and heavier and kinda Haino-esque, with fuzzy feedback guitar carving whale-calls through the murk, propelled by steady drum splatter. It gets pretty freaky, satisfyingly so, 'specially if you like the idea of Burnt Hills or Doktor Kettu jamming on some almost unrecognizable Dick Dale surf licks or something like that. The pulsating moldy walls of Rhyton's presumably subterranean practice space sure absorbed a lot of intense stoner vibes during the recording of this tape. Thanks, Rhyton, for letting us in.
The tape's covers are hand stamped metallic ink on black paper.
We finally saw that Rodriguez documentary, Searching for Sugarman, which was pretty great, but we couldn't help notice that the filmmakers completely ignored the best song on the Cold Fact record which in our opinion wasn't "Sugarman", but the song after it called, "Only Good for Conversation". We really wanted to know the story behind that one. Who was "the coldest bitch" he knew? That song has been a deep cut in heavy psych-fuzz circles for a long time and really hits home, at least for us, the deep bitterness of Detroit, so hard-hitting and close to the bone.
Fast forward ten years later to 1981 and out of Detroit comes another beaten down hard-laborer who has big rock music dreams, ambition and a visionary album concept. But for Rich Ristagno and his sole release, What Would It Like to Be Rich?, there was no alternate universe on the other side of the globe where he was bigger than Elvis. In fact, this record may not have seen the light of day had it not been for an early single he recorded a few years earlier that went nowhere which finally caught the attention of the same Michigan rock enthusiasts who freaked out over Rodriguez. Eventually, stacks of the unreleased full length were discovered unsleeved and undistributed in Ristagno's basement. Turns out, the artwork was never made for the record, and he didn't know how to go about doing it and so his initial pressing sat there gathering dust.
This private press recording was made with the help of a local Detroit studio and their in-house band Soular Flight who give Ristagno's dark autobiographical lyrics an outsider funk-rock edge. Ristagno's voice has a Lou Reed meets Shuggie Otis quality, a kind of dry soulfulness that anchors the heavy stoned funkiness of his backing band and the acid guitar shred that cascades around his straight ahead reverbed delivery. Fans of Wicked Witch and Stark Reality, take note! If Rodriguez had made a whole album that sounded like "Only Good For Conversation", this is probably close to what it would sound like. Thanks Drag City for rescuing another ill-fated obscurity.
The first we heard from weirdo Italian blackened industrial noiseniks Rotorvator was via a collaboration with one man black metal band Rhuith, the two groups a perfect match up, each with their own peculiar take on black metal, with Rotorvator seemingly the weirder of the two, adding some tortured, twisted WTF-ness to Rhuith's sound, and if there was ever any doubt, this new full length most definitely goes a long way to demonstrating that Rotorvator are indeed masters of seriously damaged outsider avant industrial black metal weirdness. Or something. For a thumbnail descriptor, "damaged outsider avant industrial black metal weirdness" definitely works, the sound here all over the map, and not just the black metal map either, noise, industrial, psychedelia, electronica, it's all tangled up into a wild, warped, ever shifting, sonic sprawl, machine like rhythms, underpin dreamy almost shoegazey guitar buzz, howled demonic vokills, gnarled and dissonant, the sound slipping into a churning buzz drenched blackness, before exploding into a weird galloping blast, that sounds like some demented robotic black metal, the song slipping from blackened lope, to dense noise drenched howl, to furious blasting crush, to tranced out guitardrone. And that's just the first song.
After that the sound shifts into a weirdly ominous, sort of cinematic drift, all weird hand clappy rhythms, minor key guitar, skeletal drumming, weird high end guitar skree, more howled vokills, the vibe sort of droney and dirgey and psychedelic, a little bit electronic too, laced with pulses and pulsations, at one point interrupted by a blast of white noise static, and weird moaning voices, before slipping right back into it. The follow up is some spaced out minimal electronic skitter, some carnivalesque looped mesmer, that gives way to some super lo-fi black buzz, again, programmed beats drive the furious riffing, which is muted and muffled, the vocals WAY up in the mix, the song stuttering and lurching, the sounds panned super hard so they swoop from speaker to speaker, druggy and dizzying.
The sound shifts dramatically at that point into some seriously pretty heaviness, some blown out shoegazey dirginess, that could have gone one of two ways, and of course, it's Rotorvator, so instead of staying melodic and darkly lovely, it splinters into some noisy, churning, screeching blackness, but that stuff is draped over the pretty melodic guitar buzz, and it's a killer combo. The next track is more of the same, all swoonsome soaring synths and shoegazey black buzz, sounding a bit like a black metal M83, before crumbling into a gnarled lumbering creep, but again, even then, it's weirdly pretty, haunting and harrowing, but still pretty, with some seriously metallic riffing, some robotic drum pound, swirls of dense effects, and some gorgeous melodies, culminating in a weird final stretch of processed vox, ticking clock drum machine rhythm, and gristly swirls if staticky buzz. And finally, the record finishes with a dark, twang flecked dirge, drifting through clouds of melting FX, echo drenched guitar clang, pounding rhythms, swirling strings, haunting and like much of the record weirdly pretty.
LIMITED TO 400 COPIES!!! Housed in a DVD style case, with full color artwork/insert, and inside a set of heavy cardstock, two sided, printed cards, bound by a silkscreened black on black obi.
Another collection of maddening footwork genius, this one from one of the big names in the jukin' scene RP Boo. We've reviewed two collections of footwork jams, a twisted offshoot of hip hop, very specific to a certain style of dance, called jukin', and the sound is crazy catchy, but also insanely repetitive, so much so, that in every review, we make it clear, that while some folks (us for instance) can't get enough of this stuff, plenty of other people can't handle more than a track or two. Which is kinda understandable. Every track is essentially a single skittery programed rhythm, generally a single melodic loop, and ONE sample, chopped up, looped and layered and repeated ad infinitum. For us it's sort of trancelike, super mesmerizing and hypnotic, almost like a single measure, looped and looped and looped and looped... you get the picture.
Some of our favorite tracks on the above mentioned comps came courtesy of RP Boo, so we were super psyched for this full length, and it's everything we hoped for, groovy, funky, dark, with a definite sense of humor and a serious flair for creative loopscaping. Give a listen to "Battle In The Jungle", which is probably our favorite jam here, where the main melody is a sliced and diced and manipulate sample of Tarzan's distinctive yell, here transformed into a woozy, stuttery melody, SO GREAT! Or check out the final track "Area 72", which is super cinematic and soundtracky, a dense layered loopscape of soaring synths, intoned vocals samples, and wild skittery beats. In between, there's all sorts of twisted variations, the crazy cartoon music of "Robotbutizm", the slow burn soul of "The Opponent, or the sinister string laden opener "Steamidity". Check out the samples, it'll only take a minute or two for you to figure out which side you're on, odds are, if you're regular aQ list reader, this stuff is probably weird and wild enough that its maddening insane repetition and endless loopage will only make it that much more appealing. We've been playing this like incessantly and driving people CRAZY! Love it!
As we mentioned in our review of Rudimentary Peni's recent Death Church, RP are maybe one of our favorite death rock outfits ever, and we were psyched to discover that their whole catalog is getting reissued, on vinyl, and apparently again on cd. We raved about Death Church a little while back, the group's 1983 debut, but now we leap all the way to the end, at least the end of the first era to the oddly named Pope Adrian 37th Psychristiatric, the group's final full length from 1995, a concept record conceived of while singer/guitarist Nick Blinko was in a mental hospital, the title, and the concept based on Blinko's delusions of being the titular pope. And while all the RP records are pretty twisted, this one definitely feels like the most warped, not just the music, which is often weirdly carnivalesque (check out opener "Pogo Pope", with its woozy riff, and mush mouthed nonsense vocalizing), but there's also a loop of Blinko muttering something in Latin (we think) which starts off the record, and plays continuously throughout, so you can hear it between songs, during all the quiet parts, and even during lots of the more rocking sections. It adds a pretty weird almost psychedelic vibe to the already twisted proceedings. And while that first that track sets the bar pretty high, it doesn't get any less weird. The core sound remains similar to past records, low slung bass, jagged slashing guitars, wild chaotic drumming, and of course Blinko's distinctive vocals, even more unhinged here than usual, the songs too, some definitely look back to past records, but a lot are bouncier, and more repetitive sounding, and the vocals follow suit, often repeating the same phrase over and over, or holding notes for ages, droning out in some weird ritualistic incantation.
That said, for all its weirdness, maybe BECAUSE of it, Pope Adrian still rules, and remains an all time favorite, as does everything in RP's catalog, all of which will eventually be getting reissued again. Fuck yeah!
Yay! It's been a while since we've heard from this wonderful Hammond organ and drums duo from Sweden, but now they're back with a vinyl-only release on longtime label Hapna. Has it really been almost ten years since their last album? It has, and we've missed 'em, being big fans of their jazzy and dreamy and folky instrumental sound.
Looks like Eric Malberg has found a new drummer to play with, Fredrik Borling of Dungen replacing Ulf Moeller on the kit. Malmberg also lays down some swirling synth textures as well as playing his trademark Bo Hansson-influenced organ, the delightful results range from bright and jaunty uptempo pieces to more moody melodic reveries...
Moments make us think of Hansson, of course, and another great Swedish '70s organist, Merit Hemmingson (she of the "Swedish Hammond Folk Groove") but with the playful synths also of Joe Meek Telstar type stuff at times too. Altogether lovely, so glad to have 'em back!!
Limited to 500 copies, comes with digital download code.
Sigur Ros resurrect a few of their old beloved songs on their new double cd Hvarf / Heim. It could easily have been titled Sigur Ros Plugged and Unplugged, but then again that's trademarked isn't it? Anyhoo, they've electrified some early acoustic numbers and acousticified (uhh, is that a real word? "Unplugged" is so much more catchy!) some previously electric ones. Proof of that old adage that the sign of a good song is if it survives translation in various instrumentations and genres. At once possessed with an ephemeral lightness and a heart-aching gravity, Sigur Ros make it seem so effortless. Hearing these songs again reminds us of the first time Sigur Ros touched our ears. 'Twas (and still is) absolutely enchanting. Now before we get all tear'd up and descend into more maddeningly cliched 'relive the magic!' ad taglines, need we say? As always, glisteningly beautiful.
Even if we didn't make this Record of the Week, we'd probably still be selling quite a few of 'em, as we're sure we've got a lot of knowledgeable record-collector-type customers for whom adding this to cart will be but the work of a second, the second after their eyes bug out upon seeing the artist and title listed above. But since this reissue is not only of an incredible rarity but also of an incredible record, we wanted to make sure everybody heard about it, besides those for whom it's already a "holy grail". Yep, Joakim Skogberg's original 1972 Jola Rota LP definitely falls into the highly obscure "holy grail" category, a lost treasure for lovers of weird, wonderful acid-folk and underground psychedelia. The sort of thing that develops a legend that it can't possibly live up to... but then DOES, blowing minds when it's finally reissued. The sort of thing that's whispered about among connoisseurs of psych, written of in a few select fanzines and blogs, heard only by a lucky few who got an Nth generation cassette dub or cd-r burn from a friend, who got it from a friend, and so on. The sort of thing, that even a few years after a brief exposure to its wonders, will make you stop and think every once in a while, dang when is someone finally gonna reissue that amazing obscure album??? Some other recently excavated examples would include Moolah's Woe Ye Demons Possessed, Bobb Trimble's Harvest Of Dreams, and Gary Higgins's Red Hash... and before that, once upon a time Comus's First Utterance too would have fallen into that category. Bruce Haack's Electric Lucifer as well, though originals of that were and are much MUCH easier to come by. Whereas *this* album was originally pressed in an edition of around just one thousand copies -- of which only a few hundred were ever sold back in the day, with the remainder of the pressing being, gasp, melted down to be recycled into other LPs!
So, here it is, artist Joakim Skogsberg's lone album Jola Rota finally, officially reissued for the very first time! Our hearts went pitter pat when we found out. We first heard this when our friend Loren Chasse (of Of/Thuja/Jewelled Antler/etc. fame) floated us a cd-r burn he had gotten from a pal overseas a couple years ago, as per the scenario outlined above. He figured we'd like it, and of course he was right. What's not to like? Swedish-forest-folk hippie ritual mixed with droned-out psych guitar. Truly strange, and captivating, vocal mumble. And, get this, it was actually mostly recorded out in a forest, on portable reel-to-reel gear!! Once out of the woods, the raw recordings were overdubbed (Skogsberg being responsible for all sounds on this album) in studio, but remain quite raw, the mystery and majesty of northern landscapes, dark shadowy places, placid lakes, tall trees and moss-covered rocks utterly alive in the music of the nature-loving Skogsberg.
Side One starts off with "Jola Fran Ingbo", which introduces Joakim's unusual "Jola" singing style derived from Swedish trad folk, also heavily influenced by Buddhist chant, accompanied by staccato bowings of ominous violin. Immediately this is waaaay darker than most other Swedish folk/psych we've heard! Seriously droney and austere. That's followed by the more freaked out, rockier "Offer Rota", which finds Skogsberg singing whilst pounding away on percussion and unfurling a thick layer of distorted guitar murk, with what sounds like a Jew's Harp warbling in the background. The next piece, "Fridens Lijor", on the other hand, is an unaccompanied vocal piece, close-miced and intimate, all about Skogsberg's fragile Jola babble...
Beginning side two, "Besvarjelse Rota" builds up a dubby, bassy electronic rhythmic whomp-whomp throb beneath its damaged psych guitar wail, that (in our warped imagination) foreshadows modern minimal techno a la Chain Reaction, "heroin house" beats.... could almost be Pole jamming with Algarnas Tradgard or something! Later, the lengthy "Jola Fran Stensate" harkens back to the solemnity of the album's first track, and then "Jola Fran Leksand" winds up this unique, amazing trip with something of a pagan campfire dance piece, for folky fiddle and rattling hand percussion.
Overall, though, Jola Rota's mood is solitary and ceremonial. Skogsberg not a guru leading his followers, but rather one man, inspired, singing devotional songs to nature, in personal communion with the ancient deities of Sweden and the universe... it IS universal, probably why it sounds simultaneously like krautrock and Tibetan worship and Native American prayer-songs. The universality of the drone, and the human voice in spiritual reverence regardless of language. At its droniest, many moments here recall Parson Sound or the aforementioned Moolah. Totally, magically mesmeric. Wow... EVERYONE who's heard this since we got it in has been entranced.
And we're extra happy that not only has this been reissued, but that the reissue was done by our pal Johan's Tokyo-based Tiliqua Records (along with EM Records, one of our absolute favorite reissue labels from that part of the world, or anywhere else). Which means, it's done up deluxe, packaged in a swank miniature gatefold LP-style sleeve, and it's been remastered from the original tapes with the help of Skogsberg himself. There's also new liner notes and previously unpublished photos of the long haired and bearded (of course) Skogsberg included. Nice! Sadly, this too is limited to a one-time pressing of only 1,000 copies... and unlike the original vinyl edition, we doubt the label will be left with any unsold copies to recycle!
FYI there will also be a super, super limited (and expensive) vinyl version of this coming on on Tiliqua in May, not sure if we'll be able to get any of those at all or if they'll be a label-direct preorder thing only...
What a find! We had no idea who Verdelle Smith was, but it only took one listen to this latest Omni Recording Corporation release, a compilation of her complete recordings to be, well, completely hooked. She only recorded music for two short years before disappearing from the music world altogether. But in a just universe, Verdelle Smith would have been as huge as Dionne Warwick and her producers and songwriters, Paul Vance and Lee Pockriss, more famous than Burt Bacharach and Hal David (though to their credit, they were already pretty big due to a novelty hit "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini" and Perry Como's "Catch A Falling Star", but we digress...). Verdelle Smith's songs were no mere novelty. Originally from Asbury Park, New Jersey, Smith grew up singing gospel, but had big musical ambitions, so she moved to Manhattan where she auditioned for Vance and Pockriss who were looking for a specific type of singer for a Shangri-la's style song called "Juanito", a song about overcoming the social stigma of an inter-racial relationship. With high production values, lush orchestration, hook-laden arrangements and Smith's big voice, she fit the part perfectly and the duo recorded one lp and several singles, one of which "Tar & Cement" made it to No. 1 in Australia (which is probably why Omni is reissuing this.). That song and its B side, "Piece of The Sky" are both big pop laments to urban sprawl, and the dehumanizing effects of industrialization. It's rare to see such social issues being addressed in soul-pop fashion, and probably why they received little notice in the states. But Smith's drop-dead voice and the fabulous production give these songs such a deep, knife-sharp edge. "If You Can't Say Anything Nice" could easily have been a lost Bacharach / David hit. But it was the song, "(Alone) In My Room", that was quickly covered by both Nancy Sinatra (on the Boots record, no less) and The Walker Brothers, that seemed to secure her the most fame, fleeting as it was. Smith's delivery throughout her brief career shares the same dramatic largesse as Scott Walker on his first four solo records. So if you're as much of a fan of them, Nancy Sinatra, Lee Hazlewood, early Dionne Warwick or Burt Bacharach as we are, then Verdelle Smith will be right up your alley.
So what happened to her? Well, she wanted to make gospel records but her producers weren't into it, so she gave up the music business to become more involved with her church and social activism, which according to the liner notes she still actively pursues to this day under her real name. So there you go. Thank you Omni for digging this up. Fantastic!
We'd been wanting to review this for ages, but the first pressing disappeared in a heartbeat. Which makes sense considering that this is the SECOND kick ass offshoot of Philly psych rock outfit Birds Of Maya - the first being the awesome Purling Hiss, whose Public Service Announcement record we made Record Of The Week back in 2010.
The weird thing is, for whatever reason, we were never that nuts for Birds Of Maya, but Purling Hiss totally blew us away, and Spacin' is doing the same, which has us thinking maybe it's time to revisit Birds. But for now, we can just revel in Spacin's debut, the awesomely titled Deep Thuds, and if you're already a fan of Purling Hiss, we have to say, you might as well stop reading right now and add this baby to your cart, cuz it's most definitely cut from the same sonic cloth, equal parts power pop, classic rock, Stooges-y swagger, hooky and fuzzy, hand claps, all tripped out and psychedelic.
The opener "Empty Mind" is a total classic old school garage punk jam. The Stooges vibe is HUGE, the drawled vox, and the T-Rex guitars, the woozy hooky chorus, the spidery psychedelic leads, the sound lo-fi but still rocking and fantastically fuzzed out. But then the second song "Some Future (Burger)", ditches songcraft entirely, instead weaving a lush landscape of murky mesmer, all heavily effected guitar drones, and looped melodies, total low fidelity kosmische trip out, which once again reminds us of Purling Hiss, and the way PH flits from pop to psych out and back again.
"Wrong Street" is total Yellow Pills style psychedelic power pop, the sound super distorted, but hooks galore, and more wild psych shreddery. "Chest Of Steel" is another lo-fi pop gem, which leads directly into the warped experimental "Oh Man", that is a weird melding of fuzzy psych groove, minimal krautrock, and hippie rock trip out, but it's awesome, totally hypnotic and spaced out and trance-y, the production giving it a sort of Ariel Pink / John Maus vibe.
There's one more short sharp pop jam before the final number "Ego-Go", which might be our favorite, a sprawling psychedelic groover, plenty poppy, but still droney and murky and minimal, sort of a power pop Velvets maybe, driven by some fierce guitaring, some rad psychedelic leads, and laced with plenty of thrum and jangle, with another warped production, that gives it the vibe of some lost live jam captured surreptitiously in some shitty dive bar, and dug out of some old dusty box 30 years later.
Probably our new favorite lo-fi psychedelic spaced out power pop / garage punk record, fuzzy, jangly, hooky as hell and one of those records we can't seem to stop listening to! And absolutely WAY recommended for everybody who bought any/all of the Purling Hiss records!!
Finally available again on vinyl, the fifth full length from these aQ beloved dronelords, who can do more over a weekend with a couple guitars and a 4 track than most bands can manage with a million dollar studio and all the time in the world. And while SOTL did eventually graduate to more polished soundscaping, and continually strived to create beyond their means, Avec Laudenum, originally released in 1999, finds them still crafting lush expansive soundworlds that belly their relatively humble creation. By record number five, we were already smitten, the sound a gorgeously washed out and wistful world of soft swells, of gentle swirling chords, all blurred and smeared into a hushed, haunting, dreamlike ambience, five epic tracks of slow burn drift, some peppered with the sounds of distant trains, or other mysterious found sounds, at times, the music here sounds almost symphonic, while at others, it's a barely there, ultra minimal whisper. The first 22 minutes are a single three part epic, the opening first part is a gorgeous bit of super abstract shimmer, which blossoms into a huge sweeping part two. Orchestral and majestic, but still somehow reserved and restrained, the sound initially sun dappled and prismatic, but quickly growing dark and ominous, eventually shedding the hum and thrum and fuzz, and leaving just a woozy drift of softly pulsing shimmer, smoothed out into a bleary bit of cinematic drift. Finally, part three loops in some backwards melodies, and some buried melodies begin to surface, those melodies sounding almost choral, and making the sound feel like some long lost 4 track Arvo Part outtake!
The two lengthy tracks that finish things off are both dark and dolorous, the first a long sprawl of rumble an thrum, laced with a bit of soaring melody, the closer, a warm bit of smoldering shimmer, the soundtrack to the golden dawn, the darkness fading, the shadows retreating, the sky, and the landscape slowing adding color, a hazy, dreamlike coda, full of light and warmth and hope. So gorgeous.
In our reviews of the last couple records from transcendental black metallers Liturgy, we found ourselves focusing a lot on the non-black elements of their sound. Sure they had the whole tranced out insectoid riffing, the blasting beats, the shrieked vox, all the usual black metal tropes, albeit definitely done quite well, and with their own unique spin on the sound, but part of that spin was some serious noise rock / math rock elements woven into the group's black buzz, and while we may have never come right out and explicitly said it, we always kind of fantasized what a non black metal liturgy might sound like. As in a whole record made from just those noise rock and black metal parts/songs/elements. And then all of a sudden, along comes Survival, the new project from Liturgy mastermind Hunter Hunt-Hendrix, which is pretty much just that. Some seriously kick ass super mathed out post rock heaviness, definitely beholden to all the math/post/noise rock greats that came before, but in this case, some of the tranced out mesmer of Liturgy seems to have found its way into Survival. The tracks are dense and lushly layered, intricate and almost proggy, but they also sound almost looped, with the band locking into riffs, and melodic motifs, and just hammering away, and getting super tranced out, the vocals too, almost a sort of monkish chant, a mysterious crooned chorale way down in the mix (which to these ears sounds a little like Alice In Chains, which is NOT at all a bad thing, in fact check out the acoustic brooder "Since Sun Revised", awesome!). And there does seem to be some grungy grooviness to the proceedings, the band unfurling slithery, swaggery tangles of mathy churn, or loping rhythmic crunch, the best moments here though are still when they do lock into a loop, and keep it going forever, total math rock bliss out for sure.
Fans of that classic nineties math/post rock sound will definitely dig, Don Cab, Rodan, AMF, etc, but Liturgy-isms abound, as if a bunch of these tracks could in fact be stripped down Liturgy tracks, but ultimately, Survival ply a twisted strain of heady, tangled, trancey, psychedelic mathiness that we're almost digging more than Liturgy!
Fresh off his collaboration with Aidan Baker and Andrea Belfi as B/B/S, Norway's Erik Skodvin aka Svarte Greiner outdoes himself on this one, one of the most "miasmatic" of the releases on his own Miasmah label yet. Doomiest anyway. And while some doom or dooom or dooooOOOOOoooom relies on heavy, highly amplified guitar riffs and anguished (or Ozzyish) vokills, Svarte G has none of that, pure instrumental atmosphere instead, drones and tones and ominous percussive sounds only, stately and suspenseful, "acoustic doom" he calls it and it IS. Seriously, imagine your most bummed out session of existential "why am I here, what is life about" angst, this is the soundtrack, but one that somehow finds the radiant beauty in that mood. Mood being doom spelled backwards as we all know, and Svarte Greiner has it both ways. Two long tracks, "Black Tie" and "White Noise" (hmm, is he a Bowie fan?), each 20+ minutes, both slowly unfolding, strangely soothing, yet total void-embracing, never-to-awake-or-return sonic nihil. How does he conjure such blissful darkness, with sudden soft-edged reverberating crashing chords interspersed amidst sparse, quietly textural soundfields? Sure probably with a piano or cello, guitar, synth and effects and other mundane everyday musical gear; but the results sound like they're sourced not from within an instrument or a computer but within the inner spaces of your own mind and (damned?) soul, for good or ill, the way you might, in a isolation tank, listen to your own heartbeat or bleakest unspoken thoughts and feelings, gaining solace from the blurred continuum of self and non-self. Whatever that means, but that's the sort of thing that the music of Svarte Greiner makes us ponder, and THAT at least should mean something.
If you're already a fan, and so many are for good reason, then that this gets the eyes closed, zoned out, thumbs up from us should be enough, get it, it's another transcendent slab of Svarte Greiner's cinematic downer drone loveliness. Also recommended to anyone into other Misamah soundscapes, Deaf Center and the like, stuff on Type too. Those still on the outside looking in, take a chance on crossing over and sink into this, it will sink into you.
Always nice to see a new DIY 'zine pop up, this one no great shakes graphic-wise, with a pretty plain layout, but lots of cool, enthused, well-informed CONTENT for those into '60s and '70s and '80s power pop, garage and new wave punk. And it's up to date too, with a piece on King Tuff and an open letter to Lana Del Rey.
Some of the interviewees: Todd Rundgren, Jason Falkner (Jellyfish), Bun E. Carlos (Cheap Trick), Kim Fowley, Sylvain Sylvain (NY Dolls), Dave Faulkner (Hoodoo Gurus), Andrew Loog Oldham, and Cherry Vanilla. Wow, and this is just issue number one!
There's other good 'ziney stuff as well, like reviews, and a short piece all about the best instances of coughs found in recorded rock music. Yes "Sweet Leaf" makes the list.
This came out last year, but somehow it managed to slip right by us, which is a shame cuz holy smokes is this right up our alley, and yours we're guessing. The first proper release (we think) from this UK instrumental space psych combo, who craft sprawling, smoldering epics, total kosmische psychedelic bliss out, not heavy and heady like the Heads or White Hills (at least most of the time), instead, TOTS let their songs brew and steep, like on the opening track here, the band unfurling a long stretch of warm washed out guitar buzz, haunting mariachi like trumpet, deep bass thrum, swirling sci fi FX, all woven into a super cinematic stretch of ritualistic psychedelic ambience. The second track offers up more of the same, but pushing the sound in a more Godspeedy, slow build direction, a minimal muted shimmerscape, wound around spidery guitars and a thick gloomy basslines, tribal drumming drives things forward, brooding and hauntingly intense, it's not until the final minute that the song explodes in a glorious burst of psych noise chaos.
The rest of the record offers up a series of miniature epics, haunting soundtracky ambience, mariachi flecked spaghetti western style psychedelia, occultic space rock infused krautrock, and just full on psychedelic space rock, all in varying measures, from the creepy soundtracky sci fi electronics of "Coraniaid", to the deserty drone rock of "Swear Blind The Alsatian's Melting", that transforms into a sort of mathy space rock part way through, rife with haunting twang, and metallic buzz, eventually blasting off, for the heart of the sun, all pounding dynamic chug and churn, and soaring psychguitar freakout. "Dreadnaught" is another one that's all cinematic and sweeping, that trumpet adding a little mariachi vibe to every track it touches, this one a hazy slow burn, the horn adding layer of buzz and thrum, before a brief bit of shimmery glitched out jangle, before the final jam, "Sentimental Journey", which is all wheezing electronics, and minimal tribal drumming, harmonica, gauzy washed out melodies, a droning dirgey drift, that builds to a pulsing hypnorock dronekraut groove, all murky and motorik, and the sort of thing you wish would go on for ages longer, but instead here finishes off in decaying swirl of hazy harmonica flecked shimmer.
The perfect mix of spaced out psych and slow burning post rock epic, which means you can probably figure out if this is for you (it probably is!)...
This is the second lp from UK psychedelic instrumental space rockers Teeth Of The Sea, their third record over all, and another twisted batch of heavy twisted psych, it makes sense that it would be on Rocket, home to other aQ fave space rock heavies like The Heads and Gnod, and these guys traffic in a similar sound, but one that is most definitely all their own, just check out opener "The Ambassador", one of THEE heaviest, trippiest slabs of space psych we've ever heard, thick low slung bassline, weird burbling electronics, tripped out processed vox, all hazy and buzzy and gristly, it sounds like a spaced out dirge rock Butthole Surfers almost, the guitars thick and distorted, the song a lugubrious crawl, until a second guitar swoops in, playing a slithery stoner riff, and the horns, the HORNS, bleating out a dark funereal drone, those freaky voices making everything way more druggy and demented, the drums come pounding in, it's not until about halfway through, that the guitars unwind wild peals of psychedelic leads, the drums grow more tribal, and yet, it never full explodes into conventional space rock, this is something else entirely, the song blisses out part way through, weird sci-fi squelches and more horns drifting in an expanse of distant guitar shimmer, and muted rhythms, everything gradually fading out leaving just tabla like drumming, subtle organs and swirls of electronic bloops and bleeps, and hell if that's not the way to start a record...
And the rest of the record, defies convention still by never quite settling down into anything even resembling proper space rock or psych rock, even compared to their last record we reviewed, this is as about far out as it gets. The next track is all drum machine, weird industrial electronics, processed voices, swirling synths, almost like some heavier take on Goblin / Carpenter soundtrack stuff. The title is all horn flecked slow burn drift, a gradual build to a more post rock crunch, building to a sort of Godspeed climax, but one that's all super high end guitar tangles draped over the otherwise seemingly sedate sonic background, dramatic and tense and surprisingly cinematic. The rest of the record continues to take the concept of psychedelic space rock and twist it all up, from pulsing kosmische synths, to almost cheesy, eighties sounding soundtrack music, like a more metal Beverly Hills Cop or Miami Vice (!), to murky hazy washed out ambience, all muted processed guitars and blurred gauzy melodies, to a weird final track that's a hazy shoegazey soundscape of minimal drumming, chiming guitars, and lots and lots of horns, again very haunting and cinematic, and really quite gorgeous.
Weird these guys seems to still lurk so beneath the radar, might be cuz they're just to far out and freaky for the psych/space rock crowd, which is a shame really, cuz this is some of the coolest stuff we've heard in ages.
So we like metal and we like to read, most people we know do, so that's why we stock Terrorizer. This issue's got stuff about Dillinger Escape Plan, Ghost B.C., Autopsy, Blood Ceremony, Ides Of Gemini, Satan, Kvelertak, Gama Bomb, Electric Wizard, Altar Of Plagues, Horna, and plenty more!!!
Sealed in a plastic bag with not one but two free cd samplers.
Record number two from this Canadian garage rock / noise pop combo, whose sound might surprise you, considering it's the project of none other than Mikey Heppner, frontman for Canadian metalheads Priestess, and his lady Kathryn McCaughhey, who together whip up some seriously hooky, crazy catchy, sorta psychedelic bubblegum garage, that KILLS.
Opener "Follow The Waves To The Coastline" is practically perfect, equal parts Redd Kross and Best Coast, fuzzy, jangly, sunshiney, with a main hook to die for, super complex, almost a little proggy, but at it's core classic power pop in garage rock clothing. It's not even two minutes, but it's one of those songs you'll find yourself listening to over and over and over. Took a while before we could make it any further into the record than that track. But there's plenty more garage pop goodness to be found. The second track is weirdly almost funky, super groovy, cowbell and handclap driven fuzz pop, which starts off all skeletal and herky jerky, before blossoming into full on heavy pop crunch, before switching it up again and splintering into some FX drenched proggy trip out, and then it's right back to the cowbells and handclaps. "Bumby's Song" brings the sound right back to pure pop. Sure it's fuzzy and stompy and a little bit noisy, but it's so catchy, the vocals soaring into a falsetto for another killer chorus. Classic girl group sounds find their way into UBT's sound, so does glam rock, lots of this has a sort of Ty Segall / Mikal Cronin vibe, but really, for all the garage rock-isms, this IS essentially an awesome noise pop record, leaning HEAVILY on the pop.
Check out the samples, especially the first one, and odds are you'll be hooked. Easily our favorite new pop/garage record, and ANYone whose been digging the current crop of local garageniks (Thee Oh Sees, Segall, Cronin, Warm Soda, etc.) should snap this up pronto!
We LOVED the previous Umberto album, From The Grave, and are stoked that he/they/it have finally returned with another full length packed with oodles of Goblin-y goodness, just in time for Halloween!!
But the sound of the Expo 70-associated Umberto is not strictly that scary, at least not all the time, in fact, like Goblin and other '80s Italian fright-film soundtrackers, most of the scary stuff here is really just an *underlying* un-ease, a sinister suspenseful undercurrent over which more "groovy" stuff gets down. And way more groovy this one most definitely is, some serious haunted dancefloor action, or horror movie disco, or whatever you want to call it, but Umberto has for sure upped the funk/groove quotient, lacing the usual cocktail of thick, tense, pulsing synth throb, minimal motorik rhythms and heavy ominous drones with plenty of funky basslines, crunchy modulated keyboard buzz, soaring synths, chanted voices and propulsive grooves... Here and there, the sound gets all stripped down leaving just gurgly, crumbly distorted low end peppered with spaced out booming rhythms, or creepy ambient atmospheres, but the songs tend to slip quickly back into haunted shuffly rhythms, woozy horror movie atmospherics, ominous strings laced funky grooves and dark descending bass blarp.
The second side begins with one of those tracks that sounds like the music that always introduces us to the main character in all those seventies thrillers, the little girl playing with her dollies, the old woman in the garden, the sound is tranquil but subtly sinister, here it's a music box like melody, plinking dreamily beneath haunting strings, and soft swirls of creepy voice like synth, total horror movie soundtrack shivers for sure.
After that it's back to wah guitars, chiming bells, groovy Italo funk haunted dancefloor grooviness, but this time with some cool washed out M83 style female vocal textures, a shoegazey gauze over that propulsive Goblin-y groove.
If we had to pick a single song that was THE ONE here, it would probably be "Someone Chasing Someone Through A House" which sounds exactly LIKE THAT, pulsing throbbing synths, electronic squelches, deep ominous drones, dark swells, foreboding and creepy and tense and SCARY!
The album ends with an upbeat track entitled "Everything Is Going To Be Ok", all sun-coming-up, yay we survived the zombie onslaught good cheer & cheesiness. The sort of music that plays over the closing credits, or even better, over the final shot which lulls you into a sense of false security, before a decaying hand bursts through the ground, or a beast explodes from the water and drag our heroine out of the boar, some sort of shock to let you know that evil won't stay buried... which of course usually leads to a sequel, and we are definitely looking forward to the next installment of groovy Gobliny sonic scares from Umberto!
It took a while, but last year's Umberto release for Mogwai's Rock Action label finally got some decent US distribution, and we're pretty glad since we've been bugging the label and import distros about it for months now. 'Cause as you know we're huge Umberto fans, we absolutely love his Goblin-worshipping, giallo-inspired sinister cinematic synthscapes and this one's another spinetingler. And it's the (alternate) soundtrack to an actual movie, too! Most Umberto releases have been of the -imaginary- soundtrack variety, but The Night Has A Thousand Screams was composed and performed as live accompaniment for a 1982 slasher flick called Pieces, by cult Spanish director Juan Piquer Simon, as screened at the 2012 Glasgow Music And Film Festival.
As you'd expect, The Night Has A Thousand Screams is rife with the subtle menace of spooky, spacey synths, and lullaby-like melodies plinked out amidst haunting, harrowing drone/groan. There's also often the thump-thump-thump of a bass drum as the beating tell-tale heart of it all. That booming percussion can be pretty prominent in the mix, but we like the "live" sounding urgency of it when it occurs. Many passages leave aside the rhythms for long stretches of pure synth textures, however. Others get really rhythmic, like "The Investigation" with snappy drum machine beats that brings in shades of Umberto's other big influence, John Carpenter, natch.
Not having heard the film's original soundtrack we can't compare it, but we're betting Umberto did at least as good of a job scoring such scenes as "The Dance Studio" and "The Waterbed", and it's one that works just fine for home listening minus the visuals as well. Another wonderfully groovy and atmospheric Umberto creep-out!
This past record store day, we were super excited about this amazing book by Johan Kugelberg, "Enjoy the Experience: Homemade Records 1958-1992", a hefty, 508-page tome that thoroughly chronicles the history and obsessions of one of the largely misunderstood and under-appreciated niches of recorded music, the "vanity record" - also known as "private press recordings" - also known as outsider weirdness! With that book came a download coupon for an amazing compilation of some of the artists included in the book, and now that compilation has been released by Now & Again on double cd and vinyl and it's both super amazing and completely bonkers in all the best ways. It includes some old faves like Arcesia, whose operatically crooned "White Panther" some might recall from the American edition of the Love Peace & Poetry psych series; the love damaged soul-punk balladeer Gary Wilson (who can forget that line at the end of his song "6.4 = Makeout"? "She's a real groovy girl and she's got red LIPS! She's Real! She's Real!! SHE'S REAL!!!!"? Well, not us anyway), and Florida lounge maestro, Michael Farneti, whose Good Morning Kisses lp we featured on one of our Outsiders & Eccentrics In-between lists. But there are plenty of new-to-us goodies, including one of our new faves, Medico Doktor Vibes, whose Caribbean-inflected witch doctor bedroom funk recorded in LA in 1979 will soon be reissued by local label Companion Records sometime in the near future. As per the Now & Again sound, there are plenty of outsider funk, soul and disco rarities, some naive lounge, burnt out yacht rock, creepy exotica and country pop and just plain weird sounds - like 33 1/3 whose jungle themed "Monkey Bridge" would make any Kid Creole & The Coconuts fan smile. Here's the rest of the line-up: Vinny Roma, Steven David Heitkotter, Joe E., Ray Harlowe & Gyp Fox, Russ Saul, Jade, Boa, Circuit Rider, Dennis The Fox, Bob Harrison, Gary Schneider, The Muzzy Band, The Invaders, Carol-Leigh & Hank Mindlin.
Fun freaky shit!
French prog from the seventies can move us in just the right ways, especially if it hits that sweet spot between Kosmiche new age and sublime Euro-jazz, yet still has that individually eccentric feel that you only get from the French. Patrick Vian's sole 1976 lp Bruits et Temps Analogues, famously included on the Nurse With Wound list, is just such a record. An amalgam of Michael Rother sky gliding electronic music and a mellower take on the "Superficial Music" of Bernard Szajner, Vian packs a lot of punch into his compositions, propelled forward by the hypnotic counterpoint of sunny guitar lines, analog Moog washes, flutes and all kinds of dazzling rhythmic instrumentation, such as kinetic jazz drumming, and deep vibraphones, the latter thanks to the help of Mino Cinelu (who had played with the likes of Gong, Weather Report and Miles Davis). There's also an exotica quality at play here especially on the track, "Orenock" which feels like we're on safari on some strange desolate planet, as well as some avant-garde tendencies, such as using tape manipulations of recordings of American sporting events on the musique concrete piece, "Tricentennial Drag". Vian began his musical career in the legendary French prog /free jazz band Red Noise, but the vibe on Bruits et Temps Analogues is way more serene and groovy. It lives up to its awesome cover painting. Originally released on the Egg / Barclay label, it's about time this stellar album got reissued. Thanks Staubgold! Highest Recommendation!!
Another groovy, colorful issue of this funk, soul, hiphop, etc. obsessed magazine! On the cover: Daft Punk. Inside, De La Soul, Nile Rodgers, Teddy Riley, Jack Bruce, and Nina Simone via Me'Shel Ndegeocello, among others.
So far we've only heard a couple of singles from these twisted psychedelic soundscapers, both on Trensmat, one a split with Tlaotlon, and what little we've heard from these guys, pretty much knocked our socks off. A sort of layered psychedelia, droned out hypnorock space-kraut, like a lot of the other bands on Trensmat, but WAY weirder and more tripped out, and that doesn't seem about to change on their first full length, which opens with a wild squall of gristled noise before settling into a serious sprawl of droned out space rock mesmer, all churning organ (processed guitar?), tribal drumming, swirling FX, the rhythms buried in the mix, so it almost sounds like a super distorted drone-prog, that almost gets metal for a second before collapsing into full on crumbling noise, transformed into a long stretch of distorted zoner drift. That track alone, most psychedelic space combos would kill for, but we're only getting started.
The 10+ minute "Alternate Devil (Dvaita)" sounds like Gnod with a heavy dub makeover, all lurching big beats, and swirling clouds of caustic buzz, heavy and heady and super tranced out, it almost sounds a bit like the Boredoms or Shit And Shine, super churning and rhythmic, a wild tribal rhythm pelted by sheets of roiling noise, the drums eventually dropping out, leaving just the noise, but that too recedes, leaving a hazy droned out noise-psych drift, all tangled synths and swirling FX, buried voices and stretched out guitar buzz. So good.
Nothing on the rest of the record is quite that sprawling and epic, but WHOK do manage to kick up a seriously collection of kick ass sonic skree, processed guitardrones, and swirling blown out psychedelia, gives way to noisy kraut-drone lumber, rife with weird almost choral vocals, whorls of white noise, and of course some seriously dense drumming. There's also plenty of minimal druggy drift, like an even more heavily sedated Spacemen 3, as well as some super blown out guitardrone buzz, washed out and woozy, and finally, the WHOK version of techno, a grinding noisescape of noise blasted beats wreathed in droned out guitarbuzz and crumbling in-the-red distortion, pulsing and throbbing malevolently, before splintering into a total trip out free form soft noise psychedelic coda. Cool!!!
Includes a link to a digital download of the whole record, and like all Trensmat releases, EXTREMELY LIMITED!!
After a whole mess of crazy limited cd-r releases, this is only the 2nd proper, actual cd release from these East Coast blown out garage psych space rockers. Avid readers of the list will no doubt by now, be hip to these guys, their wall of guitar, Hawkwind meets the Stooges meets Monster Magnet meets the Heads is tough to beat, every song drenched in wild outer space FX, the drums pounding beneath an avalanche of psychedelic guitar, the vocals, shadows flitting across the molten surface of these tracks, barely audible just another layer of dense fuzz.
So how does this record stack up to the rest? We mentioned that the last release, the tour only Abstractions And Mutations, was the band's fiercest yet, but Heads On Fire might have us reassessing. Cuz this has to be exactly what it would sound like if your head was indeed on fire.
The opener is a heavy as fuck space rock romp, right out of the gate, a wall of buzzing wah wah guitar is loosed, and all you can do is hang on for the ride, it's like Spacemen 3 on speed, that same sort of billowy tripped out warm guitar buzz, but souped WAY up, supercharged, a blinding supernova of freaked out garage rock psychedelia. But the track right after that is way riffier, a serious Stooges-y stomp, plenty of guitar crunch and psychedelic squalls, but the vocals are more present, a sort of Wyndorf style lord mother fucker drawl, wrapped in reverb and draped over the jagged riffing and pounding drums.
Then there's "Don't Be Afraid", which begins with whipping wind and distant foghorns, ominous and mysterious, a phone being dialed, ringing and ringing, the band gradually coming in, a slow lope, simple tribal drums, a laid back guitar line, soft fuzzy swells of sound in the background, a lugubrious slow build, the vocals howled and spacey, reverbed and dripping with delay, the guitar getting gradually more and more jagged and distorted, until everything drops out, just wind, and muted electronics, muffled FX, the bass line creeping along steadily, bits of melody drifting by, the vocals come back in and BAM the band takes off, the guitar spitting flames, the drums falling down a mineshaft, a huge tangle of psychedelic space rock chaos, and then nothing, a weird, barely there, 5 minute outro, bits of guitar, creaking and buzzing, more wind, and finally silence.
And in case that last 30 minutes, and those last 5 in particular, had you forgetting just where you were, the band shuts things down with 4+ minutes of furious fuzz and pummeling pound, thick and corrosive, and so distorted the riffs seem to melt into each other, the vocals sung from the bottom of a well, a bit of start stop dynamics, replete with creepy giggling children, and then the perfect send off, a sky full of psychedelic fireworks, multicolored streaks of white hot guitar, a blinding ear full of sonic pyrotechnics like staring straight into the sun.
"Babble On! In 20 page special, Wire contributors assess and rethink the relationship between underground music and words, text and language." That's the cover feature this month, and manages to touch upon everything from Fluxus to Footwork, Cage to Corrupted (Corrupted, really?).
Elsewhere in this issue, our fave rubber-faced Dutch sound poet does the Invisible Jukebox challenge!
A few weeks back we listed an amazing French synth-pop rarity on the Dark Entries label called The Dream Machine by duo X Ray Pop, a compilation of early singles and demos that was equal parts Les Rita Mitsouko, Mo-dettes and Stereo Total. Now Finders Keepers follows that up with a reissue of the band's first full length, Pirate!, from 1985. Pirate! was originally released on cassette in a small edition of 100 copies, so it went down the rabbithole of obscurities pretty quickly. So it's awesome that it's getting reissued! We did notice that 5 of the tracks on both releases were the same, but then a glance at the subtitle on this release, The Dark Side Of The X, clued us into the fact that while the songs are the same, they are VERY different versions. The Dream Machine demos were more stripped down and gave a lighter touch to the French pop created by vocalist Zouka Dzaza and instrumentalist Doc Pilot. On Pirate! however, the songs have more overdriven synthesizers creating a much darker Suicide-ish feel heightened by the rapid-fire drum machines. Still catchy and cool, but closer to the cold wave of Deux and Gina X on this go round than the way they were to Pizzacato 5 and Stereolab was on the last one.
A few weeks back we listed an amazing French synth-pop rarity on the Dark Entries label called The Dream Machine by duo X Ray Pop, a compilation of early singles and demos that was equal parts Les Rita Mitsouko, Mo-dettes and Stereo Total. Now Finders Keepers follows that up with a reissue of the band's first full length, Pirate!, from 1985. Pirate! was originally released on cassette in a small edition of 100 copies, so it went down the rabbithole of obscurities pretty quickly. So it's awesome that it's getting reissued! We did notice that 5 of the tracks on both releases were the same, but then a glance at the subtitle on this release, The Dark Side Of The X, clued us into the fact that while the songs are the same, they are VERY different versions. The Dream Machine demos were more stripped down and gave a lighter touch to the French pop created by vocalist Zouka Dzaza and instrumentalist Doc Pilot. On Pirate! however, the songs have more overdriven synthesizers creating a much darker Suicide-ish feel heightened by the rapid-fire drum machines. Still catchy and cool, but closer to the cold wave of Deux and Gina X on this go round than the way they were to Pizzacato 5 and Stereolab was on the last one.
