We've been super obsessed with this killer slab of grim, blackened, nocturnal, techno minimalism, a dread fueled sprawl of bleak electronica and droned out sci-fi industrialism that's even more remarkable as it's the first Black Rain release in 18 years!!
Black Rain mastermind Stuart Argabright is hardly a household name, yet the man has an impressive catalog of high-caliber recordings along an axis of futurist / cyberpunk / darkly post-punk electronica dating back to the late '70s. His first fruits were in the form of the Factory sponsored Ike Yard, whose gloomy electro-dirges followed in the wake of the No New York contingent, followed by some far more club-oriented projects including the one-hit wonder Dominatrix and the eccentric Death Comet Crew (working with the pioneer of Afro-futurism, Rammellzee). Black Rain was the band that Argabright began with fellow DCC-member Shinichi Shimokawa in 1992 or thereabouts, and was originally commissioned to draft the score for a film version of Johnny Mnemonic. Despite his long-standing friendship with Phillip K. Dick, the Black Rain tracks were scrapped in favor of a high-budget Hollywood score after Keanu Reeves was pegged for the lead. After Blackest Ever Black pressed up a short-program lp 2010 of that soundtrack work from the early '90s (all of which had appeared on the Fifth Colvmn cd entitled 1.0), Argabright returned to the Black Rain moniker, possibly with Shimokawa at his right hand again.
Dark Pool continues the thread of tense cyborg-electronica crafted through those nixed Johnny Mnemonic soundtracks. The introductory track features a spoken word preface from Sean Young (best known as the android Rachel from Blade Runner) amongst a flurry of electrically screeching birds, extending the P.K. Dick allusions. Dystopian electronic shadows and hauntological drones brace much of Dark Pool, with Black Rain snapping into rhythmic passages of taut pneumatic samples and polished-machine drum programming. "Xibalba Road Metamorph" is a track that Dominick Fernow could only dream of producing as Prurient or Vatican Shadow, hammering its electro-static pulses with iron-fisted brutality and cold-blooded precision. The aptly named "Data River" spills out clinical beeps and drill-hammer rhythms on par with the sterility of Mika Vainio's Metri or any of the Raster Noton folk, with toxic drones of any villainous techno track lurking in the distance. Black Rain does pull the rug out from under us on the final track which rockets forward with a modern-day Moroder-esque tension, all dynamic arpeggiation and teeth-gritting electronic suspense only to abruptly cut the power, marking the end of the album. If we were to apply the cinematic, gothic / sci-fi allusion that this albums begs for, then this coda marks the unexpected termination of the android protagonist. Achtung! Bang! Click. End.
Here's the third album from our Finnish friend Sami Sanpakkila, who is also a member of Kiila and Kemialliset Ystavat, and runs the excellent Fonal label. Excellent 'cause of releasing wonderful records like this, his new effort under the name Es. The previous two Es albums, Flick and A Love Cycle, were all about mesmerizing, looping soundscapes. Now Kaikkeuden Kauneus Ja Kasittamattomyys -- in English, The Beauty and Inconceivableness of Everything -- continues Sami's explorations in meditative modern psychedelia, somewhat sad but beautiful, with guitar, some very lovely piano, and various field recordings mixed in. On some tracks, this sounds like Sami has dragged a few of A Love Cycle's turntables out into his garden, where he sits with the birds and plants and makes music while a female friend sings so nicely. It's like Philip Jeck meets Jewelled Antler. Definitely for fans of JA, as well as Kemialliset and the recent Kiila record. As always, we say, yay Finland!
We first heard of the Fossil Aerosol Mining Project on :zoviet*france:'s fantastic podcast A Duck In Tree, and we were certainly baffled to discover that this enigmatic project from the outskirts of Chicago has been in existence since the early '80s. A cassette here or there might have materialized throughout the years, but it seems that the bulk of the output was just secreted away until some of this stuff started showing up on their website, revealing a dreamy, narcotic ethos of post-industrial tape-loopery. Think Phillip Jeck. Think Terry Riley. And most of all, think :zoviet*france:! The etymology behind the name Fossil Aerosol Mining Project harkens to the act of rummaging through abandoned warehouses, whose crumbled surfaces were dappled with graffiti. The remnant waste from all that graffiti was the never-ending supply of crushed and spent spraypaint aerosol cans. So, the punk-scavenger miscreants who would find themselves sifting through the rubbish of those abandoned warehouses in search of a motherlode of 16mm film or reel-to-reel tape machines would undoubtably come across countless, discarded cans. Quite a poetic allusion for this tape-heavy Mining Project.
The quotations of bird song and the pleasant ambient wash of the initial 30 seconds snap into something quite foreign with a series of radio communication bursts and snippets of slow-motion monologues from Ronald Reagan, whose soothing, patronizing declarations would raise the hackles of many critical thinkers and agit-prop artists during his presidency. Nowadays, it's something of a distant, sonorous ghost, something that we're supposed to dread but can't quite figure out why. The Fossil Aerosol Mining Project cycles through a myriad of sympathetic loops, each of which harbors its own patter of delay, lending to a complex web of crumbling sound furthered along by backward tapes of textural scrabblings and iridescent drones. This network of eerie, diaphanous sounds and hypnotizingly soft-focus rhythms which may have their origins in a thoroughly forgotten fragment of a song, whose content was wholly lost to the magnetic erasures, dubbing-upon-dubbing-upon-dubbing, and / or the bacterial decay which flecked away the ferric oxide leaving behind an entirely different set of chemical stains. What's left is just a shadow of whatever emotion might have been imprinted onto the tape. It's a beautiful coagulation of sound, the musical equivalent of a Joseph Cornell box... either that or the recapitulation of the classic :zoviet*france: albums (e.g. Look Into Me, Assault & Mirrage, Just An Illusion, etc.). One of the best albums of 2014.
You probably know artist Andy Goldsworthy -- the British 'sculptor' (I guess you'd call him a sculptor?) who works with materials found in the natural environment, creating amazing pieces constructed from leaves or sticks or rocks or ice, on site? If not, check out his books -- for his works often exist only long enough to be photographed -- they're certainly some of the best, widely available volumes to hit the coffee tables of the world in recent years. Last year, a beautiful, beautiful documentary film called Rivers And Tides took viewers into Goldsworthy's world. Hopefully you saw it. When that film was basically taking over San Francisco (it was at the Roxie for a loooong time), we got many requests for the soundtrack, which didn't yet exist. We knew though that if it ever did come out, we'd sell a ton. Composed by the amazing Mr. Fred Frith, it was a big part of the film's appeal, no mean feat considering that the visuals were so great already. And now at last, we're happy to announce, here it is, the highly anticipated soundtrack to Rivers And Tides. And yes, it is as good as you remember it -- not some uninspired background music this! The album draws you in immediately, the main melodic theme slipping out effortlessly within the first 30 seconds of the album and repeated throughout. Running water gives way to highpitched soprano sax only to be subsumed under the surface of Frith's calm, stilling guitar, plucked Brazilian berimbao, and other, droning ethnic instrumentation. Tension and calm ebb and flow like, er, the tide. The reed instruments interweave, sprightly and evocative. Even if you haven't seen the film, this soundtrack rates as major highlight of one of our favorite experimental composer's ouevre. Highly, highly recommended!
The packaging is also gorgeous as per Winter & Winter's norm, with heavy duty digipak, letterpressed cover, and full color multipanelled foldouts of Goldworthy's works.
OMG! Automatic Record Of The Week. Hands down. Such a nice surprise, that Ipecac has just reissued this all-time aQ fave on vinyl, originally released back in 1992. Great Phone Calls lives up to its title, it's one of the funniest prank call albums ever made, up there with Kathy McGinty and the best of Longmont Potion Castle. Heck, it's one of the funniest records we've EVER heard, period. Then again, maybe something is wrong with us. In any case, stuff from this album has entered our personal lexicon, catch phrases, you know, like they way people pick up on stuff from SNL.
When Great Phone Calls came out so many years ago (1992) it quietly marked the first appearance on record of the now-infamous Neil Hamburger, sad sack comic who has since gone on to great heights of "humor" (or perhaps the term is anti-humor) recording for the Drag City label.
The collection of calls here ranges from the aggro bass player who answers a musicians-wanted ad (and insists, "I'm in your band!"), to a fat guy who went to college at "Yaoo" (not Yale) trying to order a low-fat pizza, to a computer giving away tickets to a Bette Midler movie called Hijinx (and its sequel, Hijinx II: Sodom). Some of the calls are borderline offensive, and some jump right over that line, so be forewarned, but it's so worth it anyway. The Hamburger-as-Hamburger tracks are among his best stuff, 'cause unlike later recordings of his live paying-gig performances, here on Great Phone Calls he's trying so desperately just to get a gig, calling comedy clubs and harassing the bookers with his "jokes". The unique brand of comedy on display here really takes things to a demented, ridiculous level, Hamburger essentially delivering extemporaneous monologues to the poor saps on the phone more akin to performance art than anything else. The shaggy dog story of a joke Hamburger tells on the track "A Nationally-Known Comedian" goes on for, like, six minutes. Why his victims don't hang up sooner, we'll never know. He's brilliant, if you've ever doubted it, this is the proof.
Originally out on Amarillo, this was reissued on cd - and now on lp - by Mike Patton's Ipecac label, and he makes an uncredited sneak appearance on the record too.
It's been a while since we've heard from Ignatz, aka alien-Appalachian troubadour Bram Devens of Belgium, who over the course of a handful of records between 2005 and 2008, created what was essentially an alternate universe of sound, one where blues and bluegrass and Appalachia somehow got all garbled, the notes warped and woozy, murky drones wreathing everything in creepy sonic patina, but something strange happened near the end of that stretch, the sound of Ignatz gradually got less and less alien, less noisy and murky, fewer effects, everything stripped away until the sound of Ignatz was essentially the sound of a man and his guitar, which is precisely what Ignatz is all these years later. Which is not to say that the sound of Ignatz isn't still strange, and idiosyncratic, and outsidery, it most definitely is, it's just that now, and even a little bit then, the strangeness comes not from adding noise and weird effects, it comes from these truly unique sounds, Devens crafting weird and wonderful sounds with just his voice, a guitar, and whatever piece of equipment he chooses to record on, which is definitely a part of Ignatz's sound, as the varying levels of production, the hiss, the echo, the muted melodies or the brittle high end, the sound is as much a part of the sound as the songs, if that makes sense.
We proclaimed in our review of III, from 2008, that it was in fact Ignatz's blues record, thinking at the time maybe it was an anomaly, but in fact, it marked what we can only imagine was a sonic shift. We missed a handful of releases between now and then, cd-r's and limited lps, but it seems to these ears, that Can I Go Home Now? is not that far removed from III, Devens vocalizing in a Dylany drawl, unfurling gorgeous bits of finger picked Appalachian, softly strummed psychedelic folk, moody and minimal, lo-fi for sure, but in a way that makes the music more intimate, campfire style, as if this was all recorded with a mic and a boombox, beneath the stars, in the middle of nowhere. All of that said, there is plenty of weirdness still going in, whether it's a sublte backdrop of swirling looped melody, or what sounds like a sped up tape recorder, looped and layered beneath some skeletal blues, or hazy, reverby music box melodies, sounding like a toy piano, or some woozy murky warble, that makes it sound like the tape is melting. All of these subtle little effects just add to the spare haunting songcraft, making these sound again, a little bit alien, just not so overtly abstract.
Equal parts Daniel Johnston, Jandek, Bob Dylan, Nick Drake, John Fahey via some mysterious Sublime Frequencies compilation, songs gathered from the front porches of old rickety houses in the sticks, in some alternate universe, dark, droney, dreamy, bluesy folkiness that's hauntingly hypnotic and subtly psychedelic. We didn't realize just how much we missed Ignatz...
It's no secret we have a deep love of so many of the sounds that come from the Finnish underground, and Islaja is one of the most golden treasures to come from that magical region. It's been over three years since we've heard new material from her, but with artists of this quality, whose songs are so meticulously constructed, we totally understand and appreciate that it takes a good deal of time to create a new album. And man oh man was the wait worth it, as Keraaminen is her most bold, up front, crisp and riveting work to date. Her earlier songs were very much buried in layers of rustic dirt, muddied and mysterious, but with her mystical sounding voice cutting through the fog. But now she has reached a place where she is confident and assured enough to strip away the excess layers while maintaining such gorgeous and evocative atmospheres, and her voice sounds as powerful, and alluring as ever. While previous outings have found her being compared to Bjork, that comparison maybe seems more apt here, as on this record she is able to use her voice as such a strong instrument conveying such striking and mesmerizing emotions. And for people who haven't heard Islaja before but love folks as haunting and varied as Zola Jesus, Fever Ray, Beth Gibbons, Jane Birkin, Brigitte Fontaine, Laurie Anderson, Kate Bush, PJ Harvey, and Jarboe, we imagine you'll probably fall very much in love with the sounds on this record. We definitely have!
Recorded in locations all across the globe, in Helsinki, Berlin, Grand Popo, and Hong Kong, this is an album that transcends both geographical and musical borders. We've loved all her albums and this one has grabbed us from our initial listen and we've been listening to it multiple times a day since it arrived, and this will probably be a record that pops up on several of our year end favorite lists too!
It seems like ages since we've featured a new Fonal release, one of our favorite Finnish labels, and this one is quite beautiful. Jarse is the solo project of Jari Suominen, who is a member of those aQ faves, Shogun Kunitoki, as well as Kiila, both bands we have extensively reviewed in the past. The psychedelic sound of Jarse falls somewhere between Zomes and the mellower psych side of Dungen. Suominen builds his own instruments and uses a brand new, self-built synthesizer based on the schematics of the 'Sahkokvartetti', a machine which was used by the first electronic band in Finland, led by M.A. Numminen, back in 1968. It was this original synth that was used on Shogun Kunitoki's last album, Vinonaamakasio.
Det Gar Runt Igen consists of four long tracks, but within each track Suominen packs a myriad of ideas - and space as well. Repeating and building synth loops coalesce into spacious structures of texture and rhythm, introducing soaring guitar maelstroms that funnel in on themselves before relaxing tension and bringing in soft-sung vocals and classical string and bell textures, all within a psychedelic shimmering skin. Lovely, hypnotic and majestic!
Of all the Finnish bands we love, and all the bands on Finnish label Fonal, Kiila might just be the most traditionally indie rock. But then that's really relative, since we're talking about Finland, and the fact that Kiila is made up of members of other, much more far out bands like Es, Kemialliset Ystavat, Avarus, Anaksimadros. So you can figure that even though Kiila traffic in indie rock, it's unlike most indie rock you know.
Right off the bat the first track reminds us of a much more blissed out folkier Animal Collective, chiming guitars, delicate fingerpicking, softly tangled harmonies, reverbed abstract vocals, sunshine-y and dreamy, really quite lovely. The rest of the record is not so blissed out though, the second track is a fiddle laced bit of indie rocking, jangly guitars, propulsive drumming, lots of swirling drone-y organs, and much more traditional sounding vocals, in fact it almost reminds us a little of Wilco, albeit filtered through the cracked Finnish pop sensibility. The rest of the record continues in a simialr direction, channeling much of what we love about indie rock, but infusing it with plenty of twang, Finnish forest folkiness, and plenty of off kilter weirdness, whether it's thick sheets of undulating buzz, fluries of birdsong, streaks of tripped out effects or thick swells of rumbling low end crunch, those various elements are deftly woven into more traditional pop smithery.
A few tracks revisit the dreamy folkiness of the record opener, stripped down to just acoustic guitar, fiddle and voice, while others are almost entirely vocal harmony drive, and at least one is a gorgeous droned out synthscape, and another is a ramshackle horn flecked, chaotically percussive tripped out free jam.
The sounds are lush and beautiful, jangly and poppy, and just a little bit twisted and fractured, they may be the most 'traditional' sounding of all our Finnish faves, but that still means this is weirder and more awesomely abstract thatn 90 percent of music out there.
Gorgeous Fonal packaging as always, the cd in a full color 6 panel cardboard gatefold jacket, with a printed inner sleeve which includes liner notes and lyrics and cool printed Japanese style obi, the vinyl in a normal but quite colorful sleeve.
So our beloved Finnish singer, Lau Nau (also of Kiila, Paivansade, the Anaksimandros, Avarus, Maailma, and the trio Hertta Lussu Assa - basically most of Finland's underground foresty free folk scene), has moved far away from the drone prevalent on her previous releases, and drifted off into a more spare psych-folk scape. These songs really breathe. Lau's cool and airy vocals fall gently on the mostly piano, jouhikko (a traditional Finnish lyre), and drum arrangements like snow - all the while singing about darkness and death like she's Emily Dickinson. Of particular note is "Run, My Horsey, Run", which has a Gypsy folk influence. Lau's known for her eccentric and vast instrumentation, and this release is no disappointment in that regard. "Conqueror's Song" includes Lau's own beat-boxing (yeah, you read that right), and "Paperthin" credits someone on "seagulls". We're not sure how you play a seagull, but we enjoyed their appearance on this wistful, gloomy, and very pretty release!
Oh how we adore the Finnish label Fonal Records -- home to the likes of Kemialliset Ystavat, Islaja, Kiila and Es. And now, won't you please kindly welcome the newest addition to the Fonal roster, Paavoharju! We can say that that welcoming 'em is not such a difficult thing to do 'cause they sure do make some wonderful music! In fact, Cup (and Jim for that matter) has listened to it almost every day since its arrival. It's true!
Note: We don't want to deny anyone the pristine 'first listen' magic that we experienced. We can attest that it was a sheer delight packed with many surprises, and our fondness has only grown with each listen. So if you want your introductory spin to be 'pure', please be forewarned that this review contains what some might call spoilers... that means stop reading now!
In many ways Paavoharju can be likened to fellow enchanting Finnish artists Lau Nau and Fonal labelmates Islaja, but their finely detailed yet loosely strung music is considerably more melted and collaged and electronic. Listening to Yha Hamaraa is almost like eavesdropping on a dream... or having someone else's heartbreaking memories come back to hazily haunt you. Sounds, voices and melodies drift in and out of focus, occasionally overlapping and seeping into one another. Sometimes it seems like you're listening to a rickety old radio with the dial set between stations so that the sounds somehow magically fit together. Odd faintly familiar elements make their presence felt such as in the ninth song where the male vocal melody brought to mind a twisted folk (and of course very Finnish) version of "Stairway To Heaven". The swooping, trebly female vocals find their own special place between Indian film music singers and the Southeast Asian voices that surface on the similarly (un)structured Sublime Frequencies travelogue field recording compilations. And reference must be made to Bjork as well! Now after having read this far in our review, you might find the very first track with its swell of distorted static-y noise to be somewhat unexpected, disorienting even, but we encourage you to go with it (and with us). Allow the wash of sounds to transport you into Paavoharju's intoxicating world. Completely and utterly breathtaking.
FINNISH MUSIC FREEKS HEADS UP!!! A brand new release from a name you may not recognize, but you definitely know some of the bands he spent time in: Avarus, Anaksimandros, Maniac's Dream�
Fricara Pacchu may have a pretty illustrious Finnish underground musical resume, but weirdly enough, he began his musical career as a rapper, though you'd be hard pressed to tell from this, his debut solo 7".
And while you can definitely hear some of the above mentioned bands in these three songs, the sound is something else entirely, much more jangly and poppy, three little chunks of druggy, dreamy psychedelic confection. The opening track has a bit of a Krautrocky groove, some Eastern sounding sitar-like buzz, and swirling clouds of trippy FX, but they're wrapped around some sunshine-y jangle, it's like Avarus playing Olivia Tremor Control. The second track is more lo-fi and druggy, a gorgeously plodding tripped out drift of woozy piano, still MORE effects, spidery guitars, all coated in morning dew and dappled with sunlight.
The flipside is a bit less poppy, a sort of noisy soft industrial, lots of smeared grind and clank, but piled atop lovely melodies and hazy ambience, and distant moaning guitars, and with a strange staticky rhythm holding it all together. It definitely reminds us of our favorite Finnish free folk, but also like the Storm Bugs or some lost recording you might hear on one of those deluxe Vinyl On Demand reissues. A gorgeous slab of damaged experimental psychpop jangle, we can hardly wait for a full length.
The packaging is extra special. Included with the full color sleeve is a thick eye popping book of Pacchu's artwork, 7" x 4", stapled but on thick matte paper, drawings, collages, photos, squiggles, snakes, motorcycles, garish colors, intricate patterns, negative images and more. Folks who dug the Glomp books of Finnish art will definitely dig this too, and the images in the booklet seem like what you might see if you closed your eyes and played the record. The perfect visual analogue for Pacchu's druggy trippy soundworld.
Funnily enough, both Allan and Andee independently reviewed this, each unaware that the other was also writing a review. Whoops. The above is Andee's, below is Allan's for comparison (turns out their duplication of effort was remarkably similar, which is as it should be we suppose!):
First off, that cover art makes this pretty hard to resist. A simple painting of a weird-looking furry cat sitting next to a daisy... with the artist's incongruously black-metal suggestive logo floating overhead. That this 3 track, 11 minute 7" is from Finland, and on the ever-reliable Fonal label, is also a good thing. Fricara Pacchu being a member of such illustrious underground Finnish outfits as Anaksimandros, Avarus, and Maniacs Dream is further reason to be interested. But the proof's really in the pudding, or in our business, the music, so let's take a listen....
First track "Bianca's Beachparty" is an uptempo, uplifting utterly psychedelic instrumental home-recorded techno-disco number that immediately makes us think BOREDOMS. Crunchy, burbling synths zig and zag over a steady, insistent rhythm. Magic. We're sold. The other two tracks, "Upsidedown Wind" and "Text-Message From Beyond", are equally cool, woozy instrumental space-outs, not quite so "techno" tho. And what's also pretty cool is the 42-page, full-color booklet of Pacchu's cartoon/comic/collage art that comes with this 7"! Lots of insane eyeball-joy to be had here. If you liked those Glomp books we've listed, you'll dig this. This 7" package is presumably limited, we have just a few and may or may not be able to get more...
Finland's much lauded (by us and others) Fonal label has been best known for the Finnish forest folk, experimental indie likes of Kemialliset Ystavat, Islaja, Kiila, and Paavoharju, among others... but recently they've branched out beyond their country's borders to release (reviewed last list) the new agey electronic improv drift of Dolphins Into The Future, and also this, by another band not from Finland, the 1st full-length (or 2nd if you count a super limited cd-r) by a blown out blooze rock duo from Deutschland who call themselves Pretty Lightning, though it's more likely thunder you'll think of when you hear 'em, not lightning.
As you might have guessed from the phrase "blown out blooze rock" this isn't your typical Fonal release. Well, it's plenty psychedelic and druggy, though, so that fits right in with a lot of the weird rituals recorded by Fonal's roster. But Pretty Lightning's rolling and tumblin', shambolic stoner stomp sounds a lot more traditionally '60s & '70s rock-based than the usual brand of Fonal freakery. Loud n' distorted fuzz guitars, drawling vox, lots of reverb, swampy slide, lumbering rhythms, splashing cymbals... we're thinking this will go over really well with fans of Dead Meadow!! Reminded of them right away. Also in some regards Wooden Shijips, Moon Duo, Comets On Fire, even Witch... You could also maybe imagine an uber lo-fi, Teutonic Black Keys? Or a basement-dwelling, krautrock-damaged Mount Carmel? Pretty Lightning bring in some ceremonial-sounding communal kraut vibes all right, with rattling percussion and chanted vocals on tracks like "Brother Gold Miner". There's spaced out pretty parts too, sunbaked backporch bliss, but it's all raw and droney for sure, and rife with big catchy riffs and melodic hooks, hot damn we're digging this. Funny it takes a Finnish label to bring us this modern day garagey krautrock that sounds like it's somehow also coming straight outta the Mississippi Delta.
Emaciated. Fractious. Toxic. Violent. Raspberry Bulbs is the blackened punk outfit that Marco del Rio conceived after dissolving the cult black metal duo Bone Awl in 2010 or thereabouts. The raw-nerve energy of Raspberry Bulbs is a continuation of Bone Awl's brand of D-beat primitivism, but with some downright catchy riffs and pop-hook chops replacing the black metal. Over three albums, Raspberry Bulbs has perfected that formula - one that could be cranked out on a single worn-torn guitar and knuckle-busting drum kit. Even as Raspberry Bulbs has swollen from a sole venture for del Rio to a formidable five-piece, the riffs have a crust-punk urgency that's completely in the moment and full of wild-eyed rage.
Raspberry Bulb's 2013 album Deformed Worship caught many people off guard, coming out on the boutique publishing house of paranoiac electronica, Blackest Ever Black. Despite the aesthetic differences, the malaise and the claustrophobia and the tension of Black Rain, Cut Hands, and Raime find easy parallels in the jackbooted punk stomp of Raspberry Bulbs. It also makes a hell of a lot of sense that Dominic Fernow / Prurient released the first (and dare we say, slightly undercooked) first album from Raspberry Bulbs. So there's the connection for you. Privacy picks up right where Deformed Worship left off as an antisocial, bad-seed punk brother to Christian Death's Only Theatre Of Pain, starving the skeletal riffs into a acid batteries of ravenous angst and eschewing the goth miserablism in favor of a throat-ripped snarl. The guitars sound like they've been strung with razor wire and hot-wired into Crime's pawn shop amps. With the multiplicity of guitarists, Raspberry Bulbs just sounds louder, snottier, and meaner. Fucking awesome, we gotta say.
Wow!!! Most loyal AQ customers are pretty aware of our total love and adoration of almost all things Finnish, especially pretty much everything released on Finnish label Fonal. They just have not done us wrong yet. Islaja, Kemialliset Ystavat, Paavoharju, Es, the list goes on and on. And while for the most part their releases focus on the more murky free folk side of Finnish underground rock they have proven to be a label that isn't just about one 'sound' but instead are simply about beautiful music. Period. Whether it's random ethereal forest folk, dreamy drifty swooning ambience, or crunchy chaotic tribalistic clatter. Their latest release, from the Helsinki quartet Shogun Kunitoki, is further proof to that effect, and dare we say this might even be the greatest thing Fonal has released. Some of you may be shouting IMPOSSIBLE! And under different circumstances we'd be right there with you. But just listenening to Tasankokaiku has us thinking not only is it possible, it's damn near for certain. Color! So much vibrant color just bursting out of Shogun Kunitoki's instrumental onslaught. It starts out on fire and every song and sound just feeds the flame. It's almost as if Steve Reich and Terry Riley raised a child weaned on the BBC Radiophonic experiments, a young Rick Wakeman who grew up listening to the fuzzy guitarscapes of M83's Dead Cities, Red Seas... and the dreamy and propulsive instrumental jams of Stereolab, and thus cultivated a totally informed yet unique outlook and approach to music and music making. The sounds on Tasankokaiku are triumphant and assured, flickering then bursting, warm and so totally alive! Knowing how to perfectly use repetition to build momentum and then suddenly blast off to sparkling spaces that make you feel like you're being spirited away to a place that you've never been to but have always dreamed about. A sparkling glistening land of thick warm keyboards, hypnotic prog laced krautrockiness, Neu-infused soundscapes, basically a world populated by all the sounds that drive us wild. This is another one of those rare records that is an across the board unanimous AQ favorite. Everyone who works here loves it. We all hear different things too, besides the above mentioned bands, Andee hears bits of Goblin and Zombi and Heldon, Allan hears hints of Aavikko and Cluster and Circle, Irwin noticed a little Broadcast and even some Raymond Scott, but no matter what you hear, or what shades of sound reveal themsleves to you, the sum is SO much greater than its parts. A gloriously dense and warm world of fuzzy sound that we just can't stop listening to. No matter what music you've been obsessed with lately, this is one of those special records that somehow trumps whatever it is, straight to the top of your listening pile, elbowing it's way past all the other discs in your collection right into your cd player where it will effortlessly fend off any other records wanting to get in there. It's that good.
Tomutonttu is Jan Anderzen, member of Kemialliset Ystavat, Avarus, Anaksimandros, and who knows how many other Finnish free folk outfits. He's one of the kings of that scene. His hand (and gnarled guitar, and wheezing keyboard...) have been in tons of our favorite records and projects. This however is the first chance we've had to hear Anderzen on his own as Tomutonttu, seeing as the first Tomutonttu was so limited it disappeared before we were able to get even a single copy.
Needless to say, fans of all things folky and Finnish will love this, it fits perfectly amidst the Avarus and Kemialliset releases, but it stands on it's own too, strange in its own right, personal, and lovely, but also spacey and kind of freaked out. But then why would we expect anything else?
The record begins with the calls of whippoorwills, soon joined by the calls of yet more birds, all whipping wildly above a thrumming drone made up of buzzing kazoo vocals, moaning muted strings, and some mysterious pulsing minimal throb. Sounding almost like a super lo-fi "Symphony Of The Birds" all tangled up with some chunk of freaky forest folk. Ends up those aren't real birds, as their calls slow down and get all twisted up, it becomes evident it's a record of birds being slowly manipulated, becoming more and more abstract, the bird calls transforming into weird rumbles and flurries of high pitched squiggles, all over the growing buzz of a shimmery space guitar and more of that strange buzzy kazoo like moaning, peppered with deep rich sonic swells, very dreamy and alien, like some sort of otherworldly nature recording.
The next track hews closer to the Finnish folk sound, sort of medieval sounding with drifting high end keyboard melodies draped over muted rhythmic clang and sweet swoonsome swirls of soft sound. The last track on side A sounds like some strange Bollywood Western, minor key and very Eastern sounding, processed guitar and blown out keyboards all tangled up into a gorgeously lilting melody, dreamy and sparkly and super playful.
Side B begins with more playfulness, this time the percussion, all drenched in reverb and echo, like some sort of wind chime garden, muted into strange melodies, droning keyboards beneath, very haunting and otherworldly, it almost sounds African, like likembes, sometimes there are hints of gamelan too, at least in the timbre and the melodies, but all warm and distorted and dreamily blown out. The next track is a brief snatch of what sounds like some unearthed old time recording, all fuzzy warble and a softly keening melancholy melody. And finally, the lengthy final track is a reprise of the opener, all tinkling chimes, distant moaned vocals, and soft clouds of constantly shifting and swirling bird calls, dizzying but also strangely soothing. Definitely one of the nicest records we've heard from the Avarus/Anaksimandros/Kemialliset Finnish freakfolk axis...
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!!! Pressed on 220 gram vinyl, packaged in amazing jackets with eye popping artwork and printed full color inner sleeves. These are gonna go fast and once these are gone they are GONE.
This new band on Fonal with all the double-u's in their name is of course Finnish, and in fact is something of a super-duo: Fonal boss Sami Sanpakkila (Es) and recent Wire magazine cover star Jan Anderzen (Tomutonttu, Kemialliset Ystavat) are the two collaborators here (at last!). The name they've chosen is apparently a play on the humorous Finnish phrase "tuusan nuuskana", which means something like "total shambles" in English. Ok, well, but while the abstract, intermittent, fractured soundz & rhythms heard here could lend themselves to that description, Sami & Jan are actually exercising a fair amount of control, and the tracks here, while not your usual sort of "songs" are most definitely music, not noise. Instrumental, full of sweet sweet drones and distortion, shining shimmer... we think most fans of both Es and Tomutonttu and other Finnish/Fonal acts on the more abstract edges of soundmaking will appreciate this quite a bit!!
The five long tracks find this project getting out of the usual "Finnish forest folk" thing we associate with Kemialliset and instead seem much more sci-fi and electronic, synth zips and zaps transmitted from a mad scientist's laboratory. Some of the sounds remind us of sferics, that spooky VLF radio noise phenomenon of the Earth's magnetosphere we used to sell whole cds of (Stephen P. McGreevy's Electric Engima and Auroral Chorus II, wish they were still in print). Somehow those sorts of sounds - however produced - are woven into a detailed, textured sound world that's at once both pleasant (really) and intriguing. Finnish forest science lab fans won't be surprised.
And, the usual obi-strip with which Fonal packages their cds is cleverly been utilized here to enhance the cover art with a simple form of animation. Designed by Shogun Kunitoki's Jari Suominen, it's a clear acetate strip printed with narrow stripes, that interacts with the cover art to create a pretty cool optical illusion of motion (a flickering, spinning pinwheel) when you slide the obi across the cover. Neat! (We haven't opened the lp, but assume it must also contain a similar insert.)
Why it has taken so long for this to be reissued is baffling, but we're just so glad it's finally here. We have raved about Leslie Winer's musical work on two previous archival releases from Tapeworm and its offshoot label Wormhole, but those really only hinted at the genius of Witch, her only previously released record, from 1993 (though much of it was recorded in the late eighties). Records don't get more cult than this. Released on a white label, using the copyright symbol as her moniker, here designed as a circle of Ourobouros that was originally hand stamped onto blank white sleeves. Even the album and song titles with their alphanumerical wordplay ("N1ear", "1nce Upon A Time") would fit right at home with the obscurant syntax of witch house, even though this was recorded nearly 20 years before. Witch has been labeled as "proto-trip-hop", which it sort of is, as this record predates what Massive Attack, Portishead and Tricky were doing just a year or two later, and even Winer herself has been called by NME "The Grandmother of Trip Hop", a label she has rejected and rightly so. "Grandmother" doesn't have the same aura of respect as what the music press names male musical innovators such as "Godfather" or "King", and Winer, a poet and formal model with a chic androgynous style who was close friends with both William S. Burroughs and Jean-Michel Basquiat is hardly a little old lady.
Witch is both a product of its time and far ahead of it. On the surface, it's not that far removed from Sinead O'Connor, especially her song "I Am Stretched On Your Grave" with its James Brown drum sample and spoken intonations, but Witch is much darker, cooler and more subdued. It has a very London feel to it, a feeling of frustrated action against cultural stagnation and trying to create something new out of nearly nothing. Winer doesn't necessarily sing as much as observe and respond with cool detachment, a sort of soundtrack of her experiences relayed poetically to an unknown listener as beats, dub rhythms (from Jah Wobble no less), and musical samples and snippets of dialogue coalesce around her. It's a heady mixture, definitely dreamy and druggy, but she refreshingly doesn't try to endear the listener to her own personal entanglements and positions on gender, beauty and social norms. It's more like she's having a searching complicated conversation with herself.
Musically, what Witch really predates is the contemporary woozy and warped electronica of Peaking Lights and Maria Minerva, especially in the layering of breezy dub rhythms in hazy reverb and abstract murk. It's a beautifully extraordinary work that continually rewards the more we listen. Big thanks to Superior Viaduct for making this more widely available. Incredible and soooo recommended!
