Yay! Two brand new songs from this no-longer-a-one-man-band, Swiftumz, the brainchild of local who-woulda-thunk-it indie pop genius Chris McVickers, whose debut full length on Holy Mountain, Don't Trip, we swooned over in 2011. We know he's got a 'real' band now, they're listed in the credits to this single (Brian Hamilton of aQ fave metalpunks Pigs plays guitar!) and also there was a record release show just last week at the Makeout Room around the corner from our shop. Earlier this year there was a 7" on Roadcone, entitled Love Ya 4 Eva, also a fantastic blissful blast of Swiftumz pop smarts, and now this.
The two songs on here, both the noisepoppy anthem "Willy" as well as the rollicking twanged-out romp on the flipside that asks the musical question "Can We Get Together?", are squarely in the Swiftumz tradition of super infectious, play-it-again-Swiftums, heart-tugging good times, fulla breathy sincere vox, distorted guitar, and hella catchy hooks.
Comes in a nice looking full color sleeve w/ spot varnish for the text.
Here are the last copies of this album we thought was long out of print. Of course, Darren Tate is the British alchemist who has dozens upon dozens of albums filled with zonked ambient murkiness and psychically unstable drones; and his idiosyncratic soundscapery we've championed here at aQ over the years. Paul Bradley is another British drone-dude, who comes more from the mold of Colin Potter's latter-day working methods. These two have paired up off and on over the years in Tate's on-again / off-again project Monos, which in turn was a continuation of the suspended sound design that Tate produced as Ora with Andrew Chalk and the aforementioned Colin Potter. Acoustically resonant drones from bowed metals and long string instruments seem to be the sources for Sometime Today, with plenty of incidental actions, gestures, and Tate's infatuation with countryside bird song. Out of these materials, the composition organically coalesces into a sublime two note melody that follows the Morton Feldman playbook very nicely through an austere spaciousness, only to dissolve back into the amorphous cauldron of blurry harmonics and ghosts of radiophonic glissando. This album looks forward to much of the transcendent, psychedelic ambience that came through the likes of Quiet Evenings or Mind Over Mirrors, but produced in a manner of eccentric Englishness. Recommended!
A couple of years ago, San Francisco's Magic Bullets reinvented themselves as Terry Malts. The former owed their existence to The Housemartins and The Smiths, in an admirable rehash of sashaying / hipswaying UK mod-pop; but the latter embraced those all American punk icons, the Ramones (with Andee here at aQ positing Terry Malts as deadringers for the Smoking Popes). Snotty petulance, suburban boredom, slacker idiocy, oversexed / underfucked moodiness, and lyrics that seem to always start with "I don't wanna..." before issuing a cornflakes-n-beer statement of punk philosophizing. Vocalist Phillip Benson was the Morrissey impersonator in the Magic Bullets, and strains of that maudlin theatricality lilt throughout the three-chord, 1-2-3-ROCK, power-pop punk riffs that Terry Malts trade in. The bashed punk tunes are deliberately simple stomps that make no bones about referencing the iconic punk songbook (a bumbled bassline right out of The Damned here, a gloriously fuzzed out punk riff from any given Lookout! 7" circa 1993 there); and yeah, it's totally dumb. Shit, they even admit it in the feedback dusted ballad "Comfortably Dumb." You know exactly what you get with Terry Malts, and it's a hell of a lot of fun. Yup, the vinyl comes with a download code too!
Every once in a while something comes along that we KNOW we're gonna love, just from reading about it ahead of time. Here's a very good example, and now that we have heard it, we certainly DO love it. Heck, it pretty much had us with its subtitle - and also 'cause of the label it's on. From Jonny Trunk's ever reliable, nostalgic UK imprint specializing in all kinds of unusual vintage finds, comes this compilation of children's music - no, not music FOR children, but music BY children, made in British primary and secondary schools, as part of, well, classroom projects, between 1959 and 1981. All sourced from rare, mostly privately pressed vinyl (released by the schools themselves, for educational purposes or to commemorate an event), collected over the years by Trunk. The selections presented here encompass many, many sorts of the strange and the wonderful, brimming with youthful innocence and enthusiasm. There's lovely renditions of traditional folk songs, there's quaint classical pieces and instrumental improvisations, there's experimental stuff influenced by 20th century avant-garde composers like Stockhausen (via an enlightened teacher), there's an oddly amusing choral song about drunk driving, there's a cover of Art Garfunkel's "Bright Eyes" from the Watership Down soundtrack�
Of the 25 tracks (19 on the vinyl), some of the standouts for sure are the creative efforts of a group/project called Sounds Of Silence, who contribute the track "Musique Concrete" among others, including the creepy "The Lyke-Wake Dirge". Also many of the folk/vocal numbers are quite gentle and quiet and lovely. Lots of charming tracks to treasure here, in other words. We imagine that Trunk had to sift through a lot of lesser material to find these gems.
For sure for fans of the classic Langley Schools Music Project, as well those who liked a couple previous Trunk releases, namely Carl Orff & Gunild Keetman's Music For Children, and the album by Cults Percussion Ensemble.
Naturally, the cd booklet and lp sleeve includes Trunk's informative liner notes and cover graphics from the original lps.
We recently went a little crazy for a compilation on Finders Keepers called Thai Dai, which was was more specifically, a collection of tracks from "The Heavier Side Of The Luk Thung Underground", Luk Thung being the 'country music' of Thailand, a form of pop song that is the voice of the rural community, of the disenfranchised, and thus is a powerful and important part of Thai culture, past and present. Unlike the Thai Dai collection, which explored the sound of Luk Thung tethered to heavier fuzzier rock, and a more Western sound, even going so far as to reinterpret songs by Chicago and Black Sabbath, the songs here are gathered up from obscure 78s, all from the sixties, none of them EVER available outside of Thailand before, offering a fantastic overview of the sound and the songs of the time. Sublime Frequencies and Mississippi records obsessives, anyone who loved the Molam: Thai Country Groove From Isan compilation (sadly now out of print), folks who dug the Excavated Shellac comp (also on Parlortone) odds are this is gonna hit the spot too, the sounds are lush and lovely, the vocals so emotional and distinctive, warm wheezing accordions, traditional hand drums, Latin style horns, the melodies so intoxicating, so distinctly Thai, Gamelan like rhythms, the sound percussive, and propulsive, groovy and funky, the arrangements intricate and complex complex, but still immediate, and intimate and heartfelt and joyous, even when singing about loss and struggle, the sounds seem infused with hope, joyful and exuberant.
Packaged in a gorgeous eye popping full color cover, with an extensive full color six page insert, with photos, reproductions of 78 labels, a history of Thailand, and the music and musicians featured on the compilation.
For those that haven't heard the legendary Hungarian group VHK (aka Vagtazo Halottkemek, or the Galloping Coroners) before, how the heck to describe 'em? Well, this primal psychedelic punk ensemble has been around for years (their first album came out in 1988, but they had formed as far back as the mid '70s!) and they're for sure a band equally at home in a radical '80s punk squat, or on an ancient Indo-European battlefield, or out in space among the stars. As well as at home now on Ektro / Full Contact, the eccentric label associated with our fave Finnish space rock weirdos, Circle. They have put out previous albums on Jello Biafra's Alternative Tentacles label, and can certainly be considered one of the most significant, and definitely unique, Eastern European "punk" bands ever. Their sound is part pagan improv, part raucous gypsy-punk hoedown, part Hawkwind style blast-off. Their naturally "tribal" sound even reminded one person here, who hadn't heard 'em before, of Echo And The Bunnymen - but way more raw and wild and loose and heavy.
They've been on some sort of hiatus for quite a few years now (their last release came out in 1999), so it was a pleasant and exciting surprise to find 'em back again with this record, and at full force! The powerful, expressive voice of VHK's frontman, "Grandpierre Atilla", leads the charge, singing and screaming with passion in his native language. Yet, this album begins in a deceptively mellow mood, VHK conjuring a shamanistic campfire ritual on opening track "Handshake", at least at first, being acoustic, melodic, and in a way almost comforting. Those aspects persist, but as the album progresses, it builds and builds in intensity, always offering much compelling rhythmic drive and dark atmospheric vibes, culminating in a track, "Hun Testveriseg" ("The Hun Brotherhood"), recorded live at a festival last year called Black Noise, where we really can imagine these guys coming across as reincarnations of their ancestors, channeling their warrior spirit with electricity and amplification.
You want some "music review math"? Well, there's moments on this album that sound like the Sun City Girls jamming with Neurosis, and we'd further suggest that VHK are perfect for anyone who enjoys both Acid Mothers Temple and Rudimentary Peni.
Of course, if you already know VHK, you'll be happy they're galloping again! Old fans like us will love this. And for those who have yet to be trampled underfoot, this is a fantastic introduction to the mythology of this strange band. We realize that we we've never previously reviewed anything by VHK (we've only referenced them twice before on our site, in fact, in reviews of records by countryish space rockers U.S. Christmas and avant-folky black metallers Hollenthon). Glad we're able to rectify that now with this write-up.
Limited vinyl version available now, get 'em while you can. We also should hopefully be stocking a cd of this at some point in the future.
We're so so psyched to finally be getting everything that comes out on UK heavy space/psych label Cardinal Fuzz, and this week's list brings two more goodies, elsewhere is the latest from Dead Sea Apes, whose collab with Black Tempest from a few lists back was a heady dose of psychedelic drift, and these guys, who we had never heard of before, but who sound right at home on Cardinal Fuzz, their sound a bit more tranced out and angular, just check out "Heavy Saddles", that almost sounds like a heavy psych Television, a woozy angular main riff repeated over and over, draped over a super motorik unwavering rhythm, the band locked tight into a total head nodding trance-out groove, while in the background, synths whir and thrum and effects swoop and swirl, it may be about 5 minutes, but it feels epically endless. And that's pretty much what these guys do, the guitar locks into a weird little melodic tangle or a woozy riff, sometimes jangly, like on "Natural Faze", sometimes murky and detuned like on "Drag", both sides of the band given plenty of space, "Natural Faze" sounds like some Velvets outtake, stretched even further out, with echo drenched vocals, the melodies spidery and the notes sort of melty and bendy, trance inducing and super hypnotic. That melty bendiness is all over "Drag" too, making it sound like Polvo gone space rock, which as you might imagine is a VERY good thing. More vocals surface here, the song slipping easily from blown out synth buzz, to murky motorik psych-groove and back again.
"In My Father's House There Are Mansions" jacks up the tempo a bit, and cranks the buzzing synth, to conjure up some snake charmer melody infused garage dirgery that should have Moon Duo and Liminanas fans freaking out in equal measure. And finally, "Black Ocean Glow", slows things back down, and unfurls some sprawling mid-tempo hypno-rock moodiness/broodiness, which churns and roils mesmerizingly until some surprise horns swoop in for the last couple minutes, giving the proceedings a seriously downer-jazz vibe, especially when all the other instruments drop out, and the horns lock into a dreamy, reverbed slo-mo outro, that could have stretched out forever.
Fans of all things Cardinal Fuzz (Dead Sea Apes, Hills, Janitors, Cosmic Dead, Heads, etc.) as well as other psych space combos (Carlton Melton, Moon Duo, etc.) will dig BIG time.
It seems like only yesterday that Virginia's Windhand first emerged on the scene seemingly from out of nowhere, announcing their arrival with an enormous earth-splitting debut that left doomheads the world over cavorting in slow motion ecstasy. But in the year and a half that's followed their acclaim has only grown (thanks in no small part to an immense split with Cough) and now their second full length has arrived with some serious expectations in tow. But never fear! Because it's another overwhelming stoned monument of blown-out moss-specked DOOM. The first thing you'll notice about Windhand is just how damn HEAVY they are, and in the graveyard realm of doom metal that's no small feat. But just the very tone and weight of Windhand's music seriously puts most other supposedly "heavy" bands to shame. The guitars are lumbering funereal paced black magic incantations - all overdriven and decayed, but unfathomably huge, with the occasional dreamy affects drenched lead swimming out from under the murkiness. The sound is so bottom heavy that it's hard to tell where the guitars end and the bass begins. Instead they simply congeal into one slithering black leviathan mass, while the drums plod underneath like slaveship percussion. The vocals seem to be crying out from the other side of a black hole, ghostly and buried in the mix, sounding perfectly forlorn and out of reach. They immediately bring to mind Electric Wizard's landmark Dopethrone, and really we'd be remiss in not mentioning that Electric Wizard is a pretty obvious touchstone for this band in general. But there does seem to be a more serious undercurrent running through Windhand's music. While Electric Wizard's music is often imbued with a kind of acid biker B-movie kitsch, Windhand instead trade that in for a sense of urban decay and personal dread that brings to mind Pallbearer or Strength To Dream-era Warning. There is very little reprieve from the claustrophobic heaviness. The only real exceptions are the sparse Americana twang of "Evergreen"'s acoustic folk noir (a song that really allows Dorthia Cottrell's haunting vocals to shine) and the lonely acoustic minimalism interspersed into the enormous slow-burn "Boleskine", which closes out the album with 30+ minutes of intense heaviness before fading out into the bleak sounds of howling prairie winds.
As a sidenote, we should also mention that the dudes (& dudette) from the band swung by aQuarius when they were in town last week - and we just happened to be playing the new record in the shop at the time, of course! Needless to say they were super nice and friendly, even going so far as to put us on the guest list for their show that night! And we're very pleased to report that when we arrived at the tiny Hemlock Tavern for the performance, we were subjected to literally one of the loudest, heaviest (and sweatiest!) live shows we've ever seen, and it really gave us a new appreciation for the band. Not that we needed another reason to recommend this record! It goes without saying, but if all things slow and heavy are what get your motor rumbling, then there's no way you can pass on this stumbling crumbling testament to relentless heaviness!
A black noise project of unknown origin, Witchgrass could very well be some obstinant, apocalyptic cult of survivalist malcontents, shading toward animistic ecoterrorism and politically anarchic nihilism. In all likelihood, Witchgrass is the work of one dude with a crusty collection of pedals and maybe a monosynth; but it's way better just to let the imagination run with the who / what / where / when. So, we're going with Witchgrass as a cult. The aesthetics of the mysterious cabal is one that bridges the more corrosive aspects of the Cold Meat Industries agenda and a handful of bootleg copies of Broken Flag tapes (esp. those with Matthew Bower flying his fucking freak flag in the megaphone vocal department); but given this is 2013, Locrian's pall of post-black metal noise clings to the eviscerated distortion, sporadic rhythmic dirge ploddings, apparitions of raw guitar buzzsaw drone, and harrowing vocal caterwauling. Ritualized blood letting music, sure why not? We've told enough lies today; but it ain't no fabrication that Witchgrass have made one hell of a great tape in Sigil Infection for the equally mysterious Vaald Tapes imprint. Unspecified pressing, but probably out of print at the source already.
