We didn't review Another Green World with the other Eno reissues featured a couple weeks back 'cuz they turned out to have some weird defect, but that's been fixed now and so here you go: Unlike most of the recent reissues of classic albums, Brian Eno's aren't graced / padded with extra bells'n'whistles (outtakes, demo versions and the like) nor are there swollen booklets of liner notes, photos, glowing praise, etc. No, you get the albums as they were originally released -- albeit remastered and packaged in simple digipaks with plain clear plastic slipcovers -- and frankly, with albums as timeless and remarkable as these, that's enough! Each is an inspired and inspiring work, remaining vital and compelling even thirty years later. Needless to say, each is fully deserving of an honored place in any record collection.
What remains to be said about one of the all-time classic art-rock records? Here we find Brian Peter George St. John Le Baptiste De La Salle Eno (yes, that's his full name!) leaving behind the song structures of the preceding albums, and jumping straight into inventing the mood-driven, almost-snippits-but-too-composed-to-be-just-parts style of atmospheric 'songs'. A melding of his ambient sides with occasional vocals. "Sombre Reptiles", "I'll Come Running", "St. Elmo's Fire"... MAN, JUST TOO GOOD. If you've never heard this record, buy it and live with it for a few years. It'll getcha eventually... Really, just a flat-out model and inspiration for everything synthetic / experimental / art / punk / pop from Bowie's Low album to Talking Heads to I Am Spoonbender (Cup admits that IAS often uses a set of Eno's 'Oblique Strategies' cards during sessions, just like those mentioned in the liner notes to this essential release. FYI: they were a small black box containing a deck of cards imprinted with an assortment of open-to-interpretation statements... an oracle of sorts that you could refer to in times of creative blocks).
The opportunity of a lifetime film score for Brian Eno: providing a soundtrack to the most, quite literally, other-worldy film footage ever shot. Eno was approached by ex-astronaut Al Reinert in the early eighties to put his ambient touch on a project that Reinert was working on documenting the apollo missions. Reinhert had sorted through 6,000,000 feet of NASA film footage shot by astronauts on those missions, picking out what he considered to be the best clips. To this he intended to add only the voices of the astronauts themselves -- both from interviews after the missions and from their transmissions to Houston during them -- and Eno's music. Though Eno's score was released in 1983, Reinert's film -- For All Mankind -- wasn't completed until 1989. Recorded just a year after his Ambient 4: On Land, the material here is quite similar. The compositions are far less conceptual than his earlier ambient works, yet the pieces here have an intuitive, textural and emotional feel without relying on -- for the most part -- melody. All but four tracks on this album use that same Eno M.O. of blurring the idea of "foreground and background", much like his previous release On Land. The guitar and bass, when the appear, are subverted from their original roles -- melodic lead, rhythm and harmony -- and instead are used for texture and atmosphere as much as the synths and electronics. The ambient tracks on Apollo have a foreboding and sublime quality -- appropriate enough for the vast eternity of space and the dessicated & bleak terrain of the moon. The four non-ambient tracks on this disc, all nestled together towards its end, are a bit of a departure from the rest of the album. "Always Returning" is probably the weakest link on the album, with its sentimental guitar part played by Daniel Lanois. Lanois however redeems himself with his pedal steel guitar playing on "Deep Blue Day", like a Sons Of The Pioneers tune, shot full of heroin and launched into the vacuum of space.
The second wave of Brian Eno reissues is of his genre creating and defining ambient music albums from 1975 through 1982. The first in the series is Discreet Music and it's in the liner notes here that Eno describes the genesis for his ambient music. The story goes that while he was recouperating in a hospital after having been struck by a car he found himself inspired through another sort of accident. Eno had been brought a record of 18th century harp music to listen to but, after having struggled to put the record on in his weakened state, found the amplifier levels way too low and one channel of the recording completely missing. Thus he was forced to strain to hear nothing but the loudest of notes above the ambient din in the room. Add to this Eno's admission that he considers himself a much better conceiver of plans than executor of them and you have the foundations for Discreet Music. Eno's goal was to set up a system which would generate music with as little input from him as possible. To this end Eno created a feedback loop into which he could insert pairs of notes and let the ensuing echo box and delay line do the rest. The flipside of this coin, included on this album, is a suite in three parts entitled "Three Variations On the Canon In D Major By Johann Pachelbel". For this piece Eno took sections of the Canon and, on each of the sections, gives the players different instructions for the treatment of those parts. In each case the directives result in different but beautiful deconstructions of the all too familiar Canon.
Unlike most of the recent reissues of classic albums, Brian Eno's aren't graced / padded with extra bells'n'whistles (outtakes, demo versions and the like) nor are there swollen booklets of liner notes, photos, glowing praise, etc. No, you get the albums as they were originally released -- albeit remastered and packaged in simple digipaks with plain clear plastic slipcovers -- and frankly, with albums as timeless and remarkable as these, that's enough! Each is an inspired and inspiring work, remaining vital and compelling even thirty years later. Needless to say, each is fully deserving of an honored place in any record collection.
"My baby's on fiyaaaaaaa!"... so good. Eno's first solo album after leaving Roxy Music finds him in 'proto-everything' territory, pre-dating art-pop, punk and indie rock with his Dada-esque lyrics and a fresh 'non-musician' approach (those are his words, although a bit misleading -- it's not like he was a gardener before he walked into the studio!) to avant garde songs. Glammy, brooding, and exploratory. This, along with his mood-masterpiece Another Green World, comprise the essential bits of pre-ambient Eno.
Unlike most of the recent reissues of classic albums, Brian Eno's aren't graced / padded with extra bells'n'whistles (outtakes, demo versions and the like) nor are there swollen booklets of liner notes, photos, glowing praise, etc. No, you get the albums as they were originally released -- albeit remastered and packaged in simple digipaks with plain clear plastic slipcovers -- and frankly, with albums as timeless and remarkable as these, that's enough! Each is an inspired and inspiring work, remaining vital and compelling even thirty years later. Needless to say, each is fully deserving of an honored place in any record collection.
One of Eno's best songs kicks off TTM(BS), the ubiquitous and lovely "Burning Airlines Gives You So Much More", with a gorgeous post-Beatles melody and snaky harmonized guitar (an Eno trademark, often played by Robert Fripp on these releases). From there on out, TTM(BS) expands upon -- but doesn't often better -- the ideas that began with Here Come The Warm Jets. Slightly more introspective. It's also less sneering. Of course, Bauhaus resonated with Eno's idea of absurdist / glam / experimental pop, later covering this album's sixth song "Third Uncle". Really, this often sounds like Chairs Missing era Wire in spots, and we all know that's a good thing!
In a lecture given by Brian Eno for the Long Now Foundation last year he explained the genesis of his ideas on ambient music, which was in itself inspired by the music of Terry Riley, Fela Kuti and the Velvet Underground -- music that he felt "flattened" the "hierarchical structure" of its components. He went on to say that "In my own work this manifested in an emphasis on making what would have been called the background more interesting, and what would have been called the foreground, less and less central, thus sinking foreground elements into the background." The results of these musings culminated in, amongst others, the now highly regarded Discreet Music and Music For Airports. Discreet Music was composed of individual elements, each of differing lengths, such that the sonic soundscape would sound similar from moment to moment, but never exactly the same either. Thursday Afternoon takes a similar road map to Discreet Music, but is executed on a much larger scale. Originally recorded for a VHS tape released by Sony Japan of 7 "video-paintings" of Christine Alicino. The advent of the compact disc allowed Eno to greatly increase the length of time under which his compositions could unfold, which is exactly what Eno was able to accomplish with the audio only release of Thursday Afternoon. Thursday Afternoon is like a macro focused version of Discreet Music with every element further stretched, every minutia of hierarchy further flattened and every element of the medium -- compact disc -- exploited. Not only is the scale of the work greater, but utilizing the dynamic range of the CD Eno is able to make greater use of quieter passages with sound that previously would have been lost below the area of surface noise -- towards the end of the pieces as the individual elements drift away, you can hear the faint sounds of birds outside of Eno's studio. The increased time available on a CD, as opposed to the LP, makes for a better execution of his idea of ambient music. No more flipping the vinyl every twenty minutes, just program your CD player to repeat. Like Music For Airports, Thursday Afternoon's most distinctive element is that of a Rhodes -- or similar electric piano -- keyboard playing languid broken arpeggios, underneath which is a glistening mirage of ever shifting drones. The combination of these ever fluxuating elements creates the auditory illusion of movement and stasis.
Yay! A new volume in the always-popular, ever-wonderful "Ethiopiques" series of Ethiopian popular music, which most AQ-patrons will be aware of. Focusing mainly on the funky early seventies (when a dictator-free six years resulted in an unprecedented cultural flowering), the "Ethiopiques" discs are unanimous AQ staff faves and steady sellers. So what's volume nine all about? It focuses on Alemayehu Eshete who, along with fellow singers Mahmoud Ahmed and Tlahoun Gessesse, is one of the biggest stars from the golden age of Ethiopian music. He has often been compared both to Elvis Presley and James Brown in stature and style. Though a popular figure in a musical movement derided as anti-traditionalist and rebellious by many, Eshete's lyrics often preached of being a dutiful child and obeying one's parents. As a singer, Eshete is amazingly talented, crooning with a sillky voice in one song, then growling and yelping in the next. Like most volumes in the series, highly highly recommended!!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
2 Public Enemy vocal tracks courtesy Chuck D from some of their 12"s, which often feature vocals without any accompaniment, laid right on top of 2 Herb Alpert instrumentals. Truly hilarious results; we wonder what Chuck thinks...
We've been wanting to correct a glaring omission from our site for some time now. Well, its not so much an omission as it's an overdue update on a very old review; one that was made when our reviews served only as shelf-talkers in the store instead of entryways into the vast online catalog of our website. And now with an affordable reissue with a bonus disc of rare BBC radio sessions and alternate versions, the time is right to reappraise this mighty, weird, and awesome jewel of classic krautrock greatness that is Faust IV.
Essential as any krautrock album we can name, including Can's Tago Mago or Future Days, Amon Duul II's Yeti, or Neu! 1, Cluster, Kraftwerk etc. It's also the record that coined the term "krautrock" which is the title of the nearly 12 minute opening track, a thick pulsating rumble of motorik groove that out-Neu's Neu!. But things definitely get stranger after that with bizarre forays into reggae, pretty ballads, prog, pop and free jazz. Yet for all the weirdness, this is the record to get if you've never heard Faust before as it's their most accessible and structured. Not nearly as kaleidoscopic and avant as, So Far or Faust Tapes, and even with the genre-hopping, the songs all seem to belong together. "The Sad Skinhead" has got to be the most left-field excursion into reggae we've heard, complete with marimba passages and echoing vocals, while "Jennifer" has to be about the prettiest song ever made. Each song linked together by odd passages of detuned piano, far away screams and noisy stews of synth warbles and feedback stabs. "Giggly Smile" obviously influenced Battles recent debut Mirrors, as strange effected vocals accompany groovy prog excursions that abruptly shift tempos into one of our favorite rocking moments ever put to tape before suddenly ending, launching into the sublime folk groove of "Lauft... Heisst Das Es Lauft Oder Es Kommt Bald... Lauft". And it just keeps getting better and better.
The bonus disc features many alternate versions of the songs including a much longer version of "Just A Second (Starts Like That!)", plus rare BBC radio sessions of two songs "The Lurcher" and "Do So" and one previously unreleased piece, called appropriately "Piano Piece".
This is definitely one of those records, where we wish we could just invoke some physical force to reach out and grab you through the computer by the shoulders and just scream "Buy this already!!!!!!"
Faust's third album (or fourth if you count the Tony Conrad & Faust "Outside the Dream Syndicate" album), originally released in 1973, is now available for the first time on cd with the original artwork (excepting the box set) instead of the horrible cover
A 5cd box set devoted to krautrock legends Faust? We were salivating from the moment we heard about it! The output of the band from 1970-73 is truly remarkable, and their work can hardly be compared to any of their contemporaries. They transcend both psych and prog, they influenced countless acts and anticipated many musical trends, from This Heat to Nurse With Wound, New Wave and No Wave, Industrial and "Post-Rock", the Boredoms old stuff to the Boredoms new stuff. Seminal musical genius that everyone should hear. And this is both a good place to start for newcomers (I envy anyone hearing Faust for the first time!) and a necessary collection for fans.
The nitty gritty details, for those who wanna know it all: Wumme refers to the schoolhouse-turned-studio that Faust producer Uwe Nettelbeck rented out at Polydor's expense (he also managed to get Polydor to buy the band all the recording gear they needed and pay for a 24-hour a day, live-in engineer.) It was under these ideal conditions that Faust recorded almost all of the material on this box set, which includes (get ready!): Faust's self-titled debut, their second album "So Far" (both of those terribly hard to find on cd, with the Japanese edition of "So Far" having been out of print for years now), the ever-popular "The Faust Tapes" (now with a track listing and indexing!) and "71 Minutes of Faust" (collecting both the "The Last LP" and "Munic and Elsewhere" LPs). And, also included in this set is an amazing disc of unreleased material, some recorded live at the BBC in 1973, plus some recently discovered & never before listened to tapes as well as the track "We Are the Hallo Men" which was originally on "Munic & Elsewhere" (though curiously credited here as having been on "The Last LP"), but previously left off of ReR's previous version of "71 Minutes of Faust". For this disc alone the set is worth the money to Faust aficionados! Then add in the 40 page booklet, illustrated with rare color photos (of them playing darts outdoors in the nude! THE NUDE!) and Super 8 stills, that features essays/memories from Faust friends/fans Chris Cutler and Peter Blegvad, and interviews with several band members as well as with their producer (the reclusive Nettelbeck) and, for the first time ever, with sound engineer Kurt Graupner!
Of course, the individual discs may be issued separately at some time (or not? all we've heard is that the BBC sessions will come out individually) but then again with those first two Faust cds being so hard to come by, and so essential, there's got to be lots of you out there you not only will want this whole box, but NEED this box. Nicely presented, clearly a labor of love, with the cds in not-fancy-but-serviceable individual digipacks (and don't worry, the paintings from "So Far" are included in a color booklet with that disc).
Collection of recordings of Feldman's music from his "middle period" (what self-respecting composer doesn't have their oevre divided into three periods I ask you) as performed by the Ensemble Recherche. Feldman broke with the absolute serialists of his day -- Stockhausen, Babbitt, Cage & Boulez -- to compose music in an unfashionable, "intuitive" way (there's an anecdote in here of how, when Feldman was in residence at Darmstadt, Stockhausen followed him around demanding "What is your system?") and filled his pieces with slow moving, simple melodies. More importantly, he relenquished much of the authority over note durations up to the performer(s). The results are often bleak, never sterile and always texturally rich. Includes detailed notes in English by acclaimed musicologist Kyle Gann. And if you know German or French, it appears that the liner notes written in those languages are written by two different people and are completely different from one another, not merely translations.
One of Feldman's later, and longer, works, "For Philip Guston" clocks in at just under five hours. Performed by Petr Kotik (flute, alto flute, piccolo), Joseph Kubera (piano, celeste), and Chris Nappi (vibraphone, marimbaphone, glockenspiel, chimes) of the S.E.M. Ensemble, Guston is one of the zeniths of Feldman's acheivements. A piece stretched out to such an extreme length is, as Feldman admitted himself, quite a difficult task. The ability to have a piece which retains a natural, organic quality without losing control over it and controlling the development of the piece without being forced into repetitive banality was a compositional conundrum that Feldman struggled with more and more as his pieces grew in length. How Feldman manages to get this piece off the ground, I don't know, but he does and keeps it flying the whole 4-plus hours -- with the help of some excellent musicians. The entire piece (I hope I'm not scaring anyone out there with this) was recorded in a studio, but still has the quality of a hall performance, perhaps touched up with some nice reverb. The studio method of recording the piece has the side effect of causing such everyday performance anomalies such as page turning to become amplified much greater than what one would experience in a hall setting and the flautist Kotik suggests that this be used as a measuring device to set the volume properly at home: if you can hear the page turns clearly, turn down the volume. The booklet included with this issue has a conversation between Petr Kotik and Walter Zimmerman... but maybe "conversation" is the wrong word. I think maybe "argument" might applied here to better describe their dialog, and a hilarious argument it is. A hoot for anyone who gets a kick out of listening to musicologists scrapple.
As far as I know this is the only the second time this piece by Feldman has been recorded -- the first by the Kronos Quartet with Aki Takahashi on Elektra -- but I could be wrong. Composed in 1985, Piano & String Quartet comes late in Feldman's career. Like other pieces of this period, this piece is quite lengthy, clocking in at over 70 minutes (the good people at Hat Hut have even put
If Adult. scored "Hedwig And The Angry Inch" or... if I Am Spoonbender went Broadway. If the cast from Fame played electro. Glammy and slick with many cool parts and sounds but unfortunately weak arrangements undermine Fischerspooner's drive for #1. And well, I really could do without the diva singer too. The second track on the album is a cover of Wire's "The 15th", and quite a great
Following a wholly unique progression, from drug-addled psych rock jam band to off kilter pop geniuses, the Flaming Lips keep on stretching the boundaries of 'pop' music, never losing sight of the song. They seem to have a unique understanding of the absurdity of the music they produce. We're not talking about the garden variety, pedestrian pastiche efforts of so many of today's indie pop bands (i.e. avant garde = birdsounds or 'out there' segues). The Lips' weirdness isn't manufactured or forced, it seems rather to be the result of some sort of dropped-on-their-head childhood mishap or an unprecedented series of synaptic misfires. It comes as less of a surprise then that this band was dragged kicking and screaming into mainstream success by a catchy little pop song about masturbation.
The Flaming Lips seem to be taking great advantage of their lofty position on a major label, doing their best to piss off the business minded folk of Warner, while at the same time managing to make truely amazing and creative records, like their last release 'Zaireeka', a 4 cd set composed to be listened to simultaneously on four separate cd players. While certainly not as labor-intensive for the listener as Zaireeka, The Soft Bulletin is another set of perfectly imperfect popsongs, albeit now accessible to the traditional one cd player household.
It's hard to describe The Flaming Lips without providing a visual reference, take their live show at Slims a few years back. It began with a pathetic solitary spotlight illuminating the band huddled around their instruments and plucking fragile solitary notes. With the initial crack of the drums, a dizzying kaleidoscope of tens of thousands of Christmas lights burst to life and engulfed Slims, offereing a hallucinatory visual equal to the Lips' psychedelic pop dadaism.
The Lips' disparate and patently un-pop elements; huge and fuzzy John Bonham-esque percussive bombast, ultra low frequency Moog oscillations, Wayne Coyne's still-getting-out-of-puberty voice crack, bizarre song struture, and an insane mastery of recording studio-as-instrument, come together more seamlessly than ever on The Soft Bulletin, making it our record of the week, and for some of us, record of the year.
I'm kind of shocked that it's taken people so long to catch on, as the last 3 Flaming Lips albums are as essential as the new one, and currently in stock: Clouds Taste Metallic (1995), Transmissions From the Satellite Heart (1993), Hit to Death in the Future Head (1992).
The Flaming Lips return with yet another gem and it's beginning to look as if they are only getting better with age. We used to think that about Tom Waits, Stereolab, and (some here think) Radiohead, but all those folks have released mediocre (perhaps bad?) records, whereas Flaming Lips' career-long consistency through 12 albums is pretty amazing. Certainly many of their indie rock, pre-Warner fans have long since abandoned their current efforts just as many who discovered them via their hit "She Don't Use Jelly" (or possibly more recently with "Waitin' For A Superman") probably don't find much to enjoy in their early drug addled, psychedleic bombast. But with such a continually evolving yet uncompromising sound, they're bound to alienate some. There's a striking resemblance on Yoshimi to the recent works of Radiohead, but then again there's definitely much that parallels the Lips' career with that of our faves from across the Atlantic. Like Radiohead, The Flaming Lips have chosen ever more increasing studio experimentation, combining electronic music elements with lush arrangements and cohesive album-oriented productions. But more significant perhaps is that Yoshimi, a semi-concept album, shares a similar paranoid and alienated angst that Radiohead has been honing these last several albums. But where as Radiohead takes a decidedly maudlin Orwellian-like approach in their song writing, the Flaming Lips work in an absurdist, comedic fashion more akin to Philip K. Dick. "One More Robot / Sympathy 3000-21" could have been cut straight out of a P.K.D. story: "Unit three thousand twenty one is warming / makes a humming sound -- when its circuits duplicate emotions -- and a sense of coldness detaches as it tries to comfort your sadness..." All this arranged about as close to a Sade song as Coyne and the Lips can conceivably get (which I also see as a friendly jab at the sterile audiophile machinations of modern "soul".) The humanization of machines vs. humanity stripped of love and hate is the theme that's mulled over throughout. Most of the songs on the album are in direct reference to a painful breakup (either real or concocted) and the fictional battle between Yoshimi and the Pink Robots is more of a parable for struggling in the aftermath of having one's heart dashed to pieces. The two themes are intertwined on the album, but loosely enough so that you aren't forced into a Pink Floyd Wall of a concept album. While not as completely rife with hits as The Soft Bulletin, there's a lot to be warmed up to with Yoshimi. At first listen it seemed as though the Lips and Mercury Rev-ifier Dave Fridman had produced nothing but 45 minutes of studio wizardry and ear candy, but continual listens finds these songs opening up like a veritable flower blossom. "In the Morning of the Magicians" with its recurring, heart rending instrumental bridge will even bring a tear to the most desiccated of eyes. And "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots" (Part 1, *not* part 2) will have you singing along in your best cracked falsetto soon enough. I imagine the bean counters at AOL/Time Warner had a hard time listening to this more than once, if at all, as they neglected to print up enough copies in the first run and now we -- and stores everywhere I suppose -- are struggling to find a distributor with remaining copies on hand. And we're not sure of the significance or if the title and her appearance on this record are mere coincidences or -gasp- something more, but AQ fave/crushworthy drummer/vocalist Yoshimi of the mighty Boredoms is a musical guest!!
Before we launch into what's gonna be relatively long-winded review, let's just state up front that this has the best album cover EVER: the band themselves cruising down a rural highway on choppers wearing nothing but their birthday suits!! And this version sees the orginal gatefold recreated for the cd-era, mini-LP sleeve style. But if that's not enough to get you to buy this, read on...
Not long ago we gave a big thumbs up to the album "Satori", the masterpiece from Japanese '70s psych rockers the Flower Travellin' Band (note: we're still waiting to get more of those in stock, they're backordered at our distributor!). Now, however, we've got a brand new reissue of the Flower Travellin' Band's debut album, "Anywhere". It certainly doesn't scale the heights of "Satori" but it'll help you to understand how they got there. Along with a great take on "House Of The Rising Sun" (a nod to Frijid Pink?), this album also explicitly demonstrates, via covers, these Japanese freaks' radical recognition of the genius of two of their Western contemporaries, Black Sabbath and King Crimson. Like many other great artists, with humble beginnings Japan's Flower Travellin' Band cut their teeth on the material of their mentors. Though "Anywhere" -- released in 1970 -- is primarily a covers album, it's also quite a testament to both the band's veracity in their reproductions and their creativity in realigning the building blocks of rock & roll. Their cover of Black Sabbath's self-titled track was actually recorded in the same year as the original and their version of King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man" only a year after its release. And they aren't merely content to play only the "Schizoid Man" opening riff, like so many other bands that have attempted to cover it, but take on the entire piece in all its schizophrenic freaked out glory, getting waaay into the improv element of the mid-section. The same is true for "Black Sabbath" and you have to appreciate singer Joe's take on the unique Ozzy voice. The most interesting track on the record though has to be their attempt at straight-up blues rock -- while their "Louisiana Blues" starts and finishes almost pedestrianly enough on the "Minglewood Blues" riff by Gus Cannon (of Cannon's Jug Stompers) that was popularized in the rock scene by the likes of The Grateful Dead and Captain Beefheart, the interior of the song is a complete departure of sorts. Not only devoid of the original progression, it's not even "bluesy" at all. Here in the extended jam that makes up the meat of this musical sandwich, the Flower Travellin' Band's Eastern roots surface a bit. It's a precursor to the sound of their later albums "Satori" and "Made In Japan" (another great one which we'll be reviewing in the future if we can ever get any stock of it in quantity).
Flower Travellin' Band mania has gripped Byram and Allan and others of us here at AQ. After the success of our review of the reissues of their masterpiece Satori and their debut Anywhere, we feel we ought to keep going through the catalog of this stellar '70s Japanese heavy psych rock outfit. Those who couldn't get enough of FTB's Satori will be pleased to know that their follow-up, third release Made In Japan is nearly every bit as good. Singer Joe's voice still rings in the creepy falsetto style like Alan Bishop of the Sun City Girls singing balls out heavy metal vocals. As with their previous album, "Made In Japan" continued to fuse the heavy rock of early (contemporary, to them) Sabbath with Eastern melodies. I guess they decided after their perfect rendition of "Black Sabbath" on their first record, that such was their calling. Then again, "Heaven And Hell", the penultimate track here, is as pure a channeling of Jimi Hendrix as anything. The mellow closing track "That's All", with its koto glissandi, parallels "Part V" on Satori and like that track, it's perhaps the most overtly Eastern in tone. But it's Joe's vocal line that really kicks ass. At the end of the chorus he adds a little cadenza to his howl, extending the vocal line just beyond where one's intuitively expecting a cadence. It works so fucking well, makes me stop whatever I'm doing to listen, that I wonder why more song writers don't pull that shit more often.
This is one of those albums that's neither new, nor even a recent reissue, but that we here at Aquarius decided, heck, let's list, it deserves it! (While this disc already appears on our website, it was never actually *listed* in any of our newsletters.) So while many might already know this album backwards and forwards, it has most certainly slipped through the cracks for too many others out there. Being a Japan-only import can't help. Allan wisely reordered some copies recently (when a customer special ordered it for themselves on-line) and Byram, unwittingly playing it in the store, found himself getting progressively more obsessed with the album (and the band)! It wasn't long before Jim and Marcy were also finding themselves hooked. Now almost any day you come into the store, you'll hear the Flower Travellin' Band blaring.
This is an album (and a band) that are not celebrated nearly enough -- possibly out of misguided notions of their being another bad psych knock-off among the many crowding the record racks in the early seventies. But Japan's Flower Travellin' Band were no mere cheesy imitators of occidental rock 'n roll, they were in actual fact a full-fledged, pioneering tour de force of psychedelic progressive hard rock, equalling the krautrock heavies of the era. FTB can be compared favorably to Amon Duul's better efforts with their experimental meandering (think Yeti), and the best trancey spaceouts from Can. Yet there's never a sense that FTB lose track of their compositions no matter how far out they take a track. Perhaps because even more than these experimental Krautrockers, FTB's heavy (fucking ominously heavy) sound points to a major Sabbath, Purple, and Crimson influence. Released in 1971, Satori is the band's second and arguably best album (all but the first album Anywhere have now been reissued by Warner Japan). From the first screech/howl at the beginning of track one -- "Satori Part I" (the tracks on the album are all "Satori", parts I-V) -- from vocalist Joe, who inhabits a zone somewhere between Can's Damo Suzuki and Deep Purple's Ian Gillan, the album gets straight down to business. Joe's scream is followed by a foreboding bass, guitar and drum dirge that's straight up collision between Cream and Black Sabbath in which no one survives. It's got so much more teeth than either, it's not even funny, predating punk by a good many years. "Satori Part II" however is quintessential FTB Over a pounding tribal drumbeat, alternating between a buzzing sitar-esque guitar drone and a melody line that curls ripples and lilts like a plume of burning incense smoke, guitarist Hideki Ishima lays out one of the creepiest, coolest guitar leads ever. If that ain't enough, vocalist Joe's singing is like that of Axl Rose being channelled by the Sun City Girls! Even if the rest of the album were total shit -- which it ain't -- the cost of this cd would still be well worth it for this song alone! "Part III" -- an instrumental -- picks up where II leaves off but slows the tempo down to a deathly pace, which makes it even heavier. This is the Sabbath influence on FTB writ large. Replete with an improv freakout before returning to the original riff and building into a frenzied crescendo. Needless to say, if you weren't bobbing your head at the beginning of the song, you will be by its end. "Part IV" could be considered FTB's "blues" number, with Joe picking up the harmonica instead of singing. But instead of churning out the expected twelve bar formula, FTB truncate the form and construct a minimalist jam around a short riff instead. "Part V" shows yet another facet of FTB's seemingly infinite potential with Hideki (?) playing some kick ass, spooky koto-like guitar overdubbed on top of some heavy psych. Damn! They could have done ten fucking albums around this schtick alone and probably never lost our interest... sigh... but this (and the other two that are also available, look for reviews in future) will have to suffice for now. Absolutely, fucking recommended!!!!
MPEG Download: "Satori Part II" [/audio/flowersatori2.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Satori Part II" [/audio/flowersatori2.m3u]
Even packaged to look strikingly similar to an old Folkways LP release, this pair of Flynt releases on Locust sure do fit the "Hillbilly Blues" label more than any other release we've heard yet from him. And what's more, they're fucking great! No, you won't find any pseudo-ragas on either of these discs. This is wild and relentless, drone-y and hypnotic, sonically overwhelming neverending foot stomping, finger picked blues work outs. But as one might expect the workouts are static, shifting minutely and almost imperceptably if at all. Like a redneck hillbilly Terry Riley or La Monte Young.
The tracks on volume one go a little like this:
Track 1: Three and a half minutes of solo electric blues guitar, thankfully stripped of that awful standard blues chord progression.
Track 2: a short two and a half minute blast of nasal auctioneer style vocals, over a primitive country electric guitar riff.
Track 3: A massive twelve minutes of retarded toe tapping, to a hillbilly pizzicato on the fiddle that develops into increasingly manic sawing on just three notes.
Track 4: A gorgeous chunk of primitve, droney minimal blues, with humming vocals clocking in at a whopping 16 minutes.
Even packaged to look strikingly similar to an old Folkways LP release, this pair of Flynt releases on Locust sure do fit the "Hillbilly Blues" label more than any other release we've heard yet from him. And what's more, they're fucking great! No, you won't find any pseudo-ragas on either of these discs. This is wild and relentless, drone-y and hypnotic, sonically overwhelming neverending foot stomping, finger picked blues work outs. But as one might expect the workouts are static, shifting minutely and almost imperceptably if at all. Like a redneck hillbilly Terry Riley or La Monte Young.
The tracks on volume two go a little like this:
Track 1: Five minutes of minimal amplified fiddle with lots of echo/delay, like music for some sort of space rodeo.
Track 2: 13 minutes of what sounds like a similar version of the first track, although this time without the echo/delay and a little more sawing on the higher notes of the fiddle.
Track 3: very traditional sounding blues progression on the fiddle, but stretched out a little. Definitely the easiest listening on either disc.
Track 4: Ten minutes long. Revisits the melodies of track two, but the sawing is more feverish and the sound is more thick and much less minimal. Eventually mutates into a super saturated, head nodding, blissed out transcendental hoedown!
In light of recent events, we figured that this reissue of "Hard Rock From the Middle East" would make a great choice for record of the week...no, we don't mean 'cause of the current war, we mean because of the popularity of the "Turkish Delights" and "Hava
The cover art shows the band hangin' in the desert in front of the pyramids of Egypt -- but don't be fooled, they were actually mostly Arab-Americans, based in New York City. Still, their rock n' roll was as authentically "Middle Eastern" as their Turkish contemporaries. They could have held their own with the likes of Erkin Koray and Mogollar.
Ok, now we'd better explain about this particular cd (pay attention, it gets kinda confusing): Sony's Collectables has reissued two long-out-of-print 1967 albums by two totally different bands on *one* disc. The bands are tenuously connected through the friendship of The Freak Scene's Rusty Evans and Felix Pappalardi of The Devil's Anvil, as the two had played together four years previous. Okay, so maybe it's a bit of a stretch putting these two albums together on one disc. Whatever. The real treasure here is The Devil's Anvil album.
The Devil's Anvil got together in the happenin' mid sixties Greenwich Village scene, playing their Middle Eastern influenced music at folk cafes and rock clubs. Eventually they hooked up with classical musician-turned-rocker Felix Pappalardi (producer of Cream's "Disraeli Gears", later to play alongside Leslie West in Mountain). He began playing bass with the band and eventually scored the group a record deal. The resulting album was truly one-of-a-kind and would certainly made greater impact had it not been released on the very eve of the Arab-Israeli war in 1967. Thus, no New York radio stations would play it and unfortunately the album has remained an expensive collector's find until now.
The rock contained herein is absolutely kick ass, with bluesy and impassioned Arabic vocals, electric (or at least amplified) oud, bouzouki, tamboura, durbeki as well as the usual rock suspects of (fuzz!) guitar, bass and drums. The majority of the tracks here are either rock arrangements of traditional Middle Eastern and Greek numbers or original compositions, but a couple are actually straight traditional numbers with no western instruments at all. Plus there's an excellent Middle Eastern-esque rock arangement of "Misirlou" that's perhaps the best version ever recorded, IMHO. And the record ends with a Devil's Anvil original that kinda reminds us of one of the Beatles' more Eastern-influenced tunes. This is about as good as it gets. Even if the Freak Scene album doesn't interest you at all, this cd is still worth buying for The Devil's Anvil alone. Very, very highly recommended! Nay, ESSENTIAL.
(As for The Freak Scene -- you might guess from that band's name and album title, The Freak Scene were a bit of a psychedelic-era novelty, a studio project put together by producer/songwriter Evans for CBS Records. The record exploits all of the trippy tropes of the times, from Eastern-raga modes to LSD-inspired lyrics. It's no classic, but does include at least one truly great psych-pop track, the Nuggets-worthy "A Million Grains of Sand". The Freak Scene also indulges in dated but amusing free-form sound-collage experiments like "...When In The Course of Human Events (Draft Beer, Not Students)" which tries to make a statement about the whole sixties counterculture vibe. It's a mix of Pete Seeger, Laugh-In, an LSD party -- Vietnam-era pop culture hippie kitsch -- consider it a free bonus that comes with The Devil's Anvil album.)
Thankfully reissued once more, unthankfully with horrible new artwork and irritating top obi. Originally released in 1980 on Ralph Records, Gravity is Fred Frith's masterpiece of progressive-rock-infused pop, and in Windy and Byram's opinion this should be a staple of everyone's record collection. Yep, it's that great. And no matter how 'avant' our description makes it sound, this is one of the most listenable, most accessible avant prog pop things I've ever heard.
Gravity is a celebration of dance and dance musics from around the world. The range of influence spans the gamut, but Eastern European and Middle Eastern music seems to pervade Frith's inspiration primarily. Backed on one half of the album by Sweden's uber-prog folk heroes Zamla (formarly Samla) Mammas Manna and the other by the American improv-jazz-rock band The Muffins. Though all of the compositions are Frith's, each half of the album wears the corresponding musicians' influence like a badge. The Samla's playful, quirky and category-defying progressive, folk-influenced pop stylings are perhaps a slightly better match on the whole than The Muffins skronk (which shows up mostly as the segue material between tracks on the second half of the album.) Backed by Lars Hollmer and crew, "Spring Any Day Now" sounds like the theme song to an early eighties sit-com a la 'Three's Company' gone awry. Much of the album is seamlessly bridged together with nary a second of break betwixt songs, which suits an album inspired by dance that serves to inspire one to dance just fine.
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In spite of the numerous alter-egos such as Mike Ink, Studio 1, and others we can't recall right now, Wolfgang Voigt's best work to date is from his moniker Gas. His third album continues where Zauberberg and Oktember left off in using sedate techno pulses as a monochromatic structure for echoing cavernous drones and drawn out melodies. A subtle dub technique (delayed fragments of what once were hi-hats, snares, and other percussive stabs) completes a bleak poetic monument to spectral decay.
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Recording under the Gas moniker, 'Pop' is yet another exceptional album in the continuous stream of Wolfgang Voigt's techno structuralism. While he has recorded under a number of pseudonyms (Mike Ink, All, Studio 1, M:I:5, etc) to varying degrees of success, the Gas recordings have clearly been his strongest work. This is especially true when Voigt applies one of the odd (and few) metaphors to his work, as the intrusion of the forest onto the dance floor, with all of its mysteries, mythologies, and wonders being ordered by the insistancy of his monophunk beats. Where the trilogy of "Zauberberg," "Oktember", and "Konigforst" were dark haunts where deep fluid ambience tops the nonstop
pulsating rhythm, "Pop" is a shimmering sunfilled excursion that is mostly beatless, forming its structures out of repetitive sequences of trilling ambience swelling in and out of each other within Voigt's penchant for hypnodub washes. For those longing for the beat of Voigt, simply wait for the last track which is beautiful repetition of the previous ambient modulation, with his insistent techno. It's a trick he used on the 20' to 2000 series, and it's trick I hope he uses again. Breathtaking.
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Adrift in a sea of electronic music, in a fog so deep, the pulsating beats that would guide you back to shore are murky at best, muffled by distance and the unending push of the droning wind. Cross Porter Ricks with Labradford. Subdued and melancholic.
Throughout the '80s and '90s, Michael Gendreau worked extensively in the East Bay avant-noise project Crawling With Tarts, often constructing surreal experiments with idiosyncratic pop-babble and tape collages of art-damaged noise. For Gendreau, the turntable became an ideal instrument for his explorations; and soon, he began working with the archaic technology of lathe cut, handcrafted vinyl. Often the results were bizarre, if sporadically successful recontextualizations of homemade instrumentation, radio noise, and anti-pop. Recently, it seems as though Gendreau has put Crawling With Tarts on an extended hiatus, due to his increasing attention into the field of vibrations diagnostics and consultation. This incredibly technical arena has lead him to researching the problems of acoustic noise vibrations upon highly sensitive pieces of optical equipment, which could present faulty analysis due to the tiny, but measurable effects of environmental noise (air condititioning ducts and heating vents in particular).
"55 Pas De La Ligne Au No. 3" finds Gendreau bridging his current activities of acoustic diagnostics with his once prolific avant-turntable collages. It appears that Gendreau has hooked up a number of accelerometers - technical devices used to detect, measure, and catalogue any number of vibrational frequencies - to a series of battered record players spinning his handmade vinyl. Gendreau's accelerometers are so sensitive, that they pick up, not only the interaction between the needle and the record in question, but also the muffled whir of the thick rubber band stretching between the motor and the turntable plate. The results found on "55 Pas De La Ligne Au No. 3" are astounding, with eerie mechanical drones, minute needle crackle, and the occasional, but always unnerving upsurge of quiet voices floating though the din like the EVP sounds from "The Ghost Orchid" of purported recordings from beyond the grave. This will probably become one of my (Jim's) favorite records of the year.
FINALLY, this long out of print, all time unanimous AQ favorite gets re-pressed and is available once again!
The Conet Project from beyond the grave!?! Perhaps that's a good way of describing this baffling, terrifying, occasionally laughable, but always compelling album. It's been out of print for a very long time, and we're pleased to see The Ghost Orchid haunting our shelves once again!
To recap, The Ghost Orchid documents instances of something called "Electronic Voice Phenomenon," the paranormal appearance of strange voices (which at times sing and speak in multiple languages) on magnetic tape when there shouldn't be any voices there at all... Respected parapsychologists have postulated that these voices are those of dead people (i.e. ghosts) or possibly of extraterrestrial origin! Unlike The Conet Project, which cross referenced the audio tracks with written information, The Ghost Orchid presents these recordings with the audio commentary of one of several researchers (Nadia Fowler, Raymond Cass, and Lief Elggren -- the Swedish performance/audio artist and a part time collaborator with the Hafler Trio), explaining the findings. These recordings are the findings of a number of parapsychologists including Dr. Konstantine Raudive, Friedrich Jurgenson, and Raymond Cass.
While there is something wholly terrifying about these recordings, there is an absurd question about these ghostly voices that we have to ask: Why are the majority of these recordings in Latvian? At any rate, The Ghost Orchid manages to be both spooky and silly, and is definitely a fascinating listen from a pure sound perspective regardless of how disturbing and/or amusing you might find the alleged sound source itself. For non sequitur pop culture reference, the sample "You are sleeping, you do not want to believe" which concludes The Smith's "The Rubber Ring" hails from an old recording made by Raudive and can be found in its entirety here. Brilliant!
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Here is a fine collection of recordings featuring the ever capable vocalist Cascarita. Recorded between 1944 and 1946 with the backing of Cuba's most famous of Orchestras, Orquesta Casino De La Playa (plus three tracks recorded with Orquesta Siboney de Pepito Torres in Puerto Rico) Cascarita has one of the most amazing voices in Cuban music, completely reckless, half laughing and yelling, but always in control. Though the liner notes don't give indications as to the performers on this recording, but 10 to 1 the pianist is either Perez Prado (who Cascarita helped to land a job with Orquesta Casino De La Playa) or Anselmo Sacasas. Either way, the piano playing alone should be enough reason to buy this recording - top notch played with that combination ham fistedness and delicate finesse.
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Jussi Lehtisalo of Circle reissued this classic and obscure Finnish prog effort from the seventies. Thus, you can expect it to be quite strange and amazing. Haikara were an odd ensemble, hard to pin down to any specific style. The first half of the album leans towards an accomplished conservatory-esque approach -- long, solo ridden numbers, lead by fuzzy bass, clarinets, trumpets, flutes, the occasional operatic vocal and (of course) guitar; full of shifting meters and obtuse melody lines, but also entertaining bits of smokey garage simplicity. Then, in the middle of the album, all of a sudden it's like you're listening to the title track to some 70's romance drama, albeit with a prog edge. It's actually quite lovely. The nearest thing I can relate it to is the first side of Fred Frith's "Gravity" -- on which Fred is backed up by members of eccentrics Zamla Mammaz Manna -- and it continues in this vein before ending on a decidedly Scandinavian prog-funk note! A weird one, alright, something that takes a few listens to come to terms with. But I have to say, I really like this album...!
The late '60s Swedish power duo of Bosse Hansson (Hammond organ) & Janne Karlsson (drums), though having slipped into relative obscurity, were once a legend -- and rightfully so. Not only did Jimi Hendrix seek them out when on tour in Europe, jamming with them and watching them play, but even covered one of their songs -- "Tax Free". Legend has it that Bosse Hansson, trained as a
There's so many reasons to love this record. Here's two: (1) it's about the Lord of the Rings! and (2) it's a beautiful, timeless album of psychedelic instrumental music worth listening to even if you don't know Gandalf from Frodo. So lovely. It's a big fave of most of us here at AQ. (Oh, a third reason would be that it was the first release on Sweden's Silence label, and sold quite well, helping them bring the world such essential psych as International Harvester and Algarnas Tradgard later on!)
Previously we've stocked the One Way label version of this, but now, no doubt thanks to the success of the LOTR movie, there's a newly remastered edition on Virgin that's got not only nicer packaging but also a previously unreleased bonus track! No information is given about that over eight minute long bonus track, but it's called "Early Sketches From Middle Earth" and sounds like a demo of themes later used on the album proper. This is what we wrote about the disc before:
Many of you already know and love Bjorn Olsson's atmospheric "Instrumentalmusik" cd which Omplatten released a couple years ago. What you may not know -- we didn't -- is that Olsson's album was essentially an homage to the work of fellow Swede, '70s prog/jazz/psych keyboardist Bo Hansson, and specifically his fantastic 1970 album "Sagan Om Ringen" or "The Lord of the Rings" (itself an homage to Tolkien's trilogy). Bo Hansson, together with a group of three other musicians -- percussion, saxophone & flute -- make the music. Bo plays organ along with guitar, bass and moog. The tracks, all instrumental, are lovely atmospheric numbers, reminiscent of early Pink Floyd, or similar kosmiche krautrock of the era. The album doesn't necessarily make you think of hobbits and orcs, there's no overt "fantasy/medieval" themes or anything (it's not like German pomp metal band Blind Guardian's version of the Silmarillion!). But it does capture the otherworldly, pastoral feel of Tolkien's work. Indeed, it would be appropriate to call this album magical...whether you're a Tolkien fan or not you should check it out! Recommended.
It's just too bad that Peter Jackson didn't use any of this music in his otherwise amazing LOTR film adaption! Now if only they'd reissue Hansson's "Watership Down" album as well...
Recently, we reviewed Brazil's Modulo 1000... Before that, Thai Beat A Go Go volume 2. And the Lemmy-goes-to-India sounds of Sam Gopal. And the Juan dela Cruz Band from the Phillipines. And Turkish music galore. And all those incredible Cambodian Rocks comps. Et cetera, et cetera. Yup, we've had a lot of vintage heavy rock and psych reissues from all over the world now, but this is maybe the first time we've gotten our hands on something from Korea (and hopefully not the last -- we'd love to get Sanullim discs too, someday).
Recorded in, yay, 1971, pressed in a ridiculously limited (promotion only) quantity of 300 copies each, and subsequently all but forgotten, these two records by Korean psychedelic groovesters the HE 6 are some gems indeed! With the exception of the closing side-long seventeen minute cover of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" (which faithfully does indeed include the obligatory drum solo as per the original version, along with what sounds like a police siren and also an added *flute* solo!) all the tracks on the two albums Go Go Sound '71 vol. 1 and Go Go Sound '71 vol. 2 included here are instrumental jams -- numbered themes with titles like "Theme 2. 4/4 for Guitar" and "Theme 3. Running Human". And even "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" is mostly instrumental of course.
Listening to the other tracks on this disc it makes sense that they would choose Iron Butterfly's opus as the sole tune to cover. Like that tune, all of their originals are extended jams led by fuzzed-out electric guitar and Hammond organ. In addition, the aforementioned flute gets a workout too. (Yet another victory for the flute, so often mistakenly perceived as diminutive instrument! But the flute can certainly hold its own in this heavy, groovy, acid-rock band.) And it's crucial to mention that HE 6's rhythm section is darn tight! Indeed, this stuff's funky enough that we're sure they were probably just as much influenced by James Brown's band The JB's as they were by the likes of the Vanilla Fudge and Iron Butterfly. If not so obscure, we're sure this would have been plundered by DJs looking for the swank breaks... who knows, maybe hip hop producers in Korea have done so? So, very much recommended to all you folks into these sorta swinging '60s/'70s sounds -- especially if you dig the Cambodian Rocks and Thai Beat comps!
'Tis an expensive import, but the packaging helps justify the price: a gorgeous heavy-duty mini-LP styled gatefold sleeve, complete with a booklet featuring extensive liner notes (in English!) and photos, plus you even get two colorful HE 6 stickers! Nice.
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Their new effort is gorgeous as usual, with those precious female vocals. You oughtn't be surprised there's a song called "Beech Boys" on here... As anticipated, Stars is 4AD-flavored sweet pop, yet more disonant at times and thus interesting than the last HNIA album. Warren Defever slices on some of the noisy layered stuff (his other band) Princess Dragon Mom likes to cook up.
The second disc in Ice Cube's loftily titled "War & Peace" two volume opus, this could also be known as the 'party' disc of the two. I know that sounds like a bad thing, but man does this record kick ass. Cube's production has come a long way since the NWA days, sounding a lot more like Dr. Dre today (in fact, track one, 'Hello' is a Dre/Cube collaboration that sounds as good as anything on the recent Dre record). Still mean as shit, but with wickedly catchy hooks, the "Peace" disc is chock full of amazing stuff besides the ubiquitous radio staple 'You Can Do It' (everybody sing along: 'I can do it, put your ass in to it'), in fact, it's probably some of the best Cube since "Amerikkka's Most Wanted": 'You Ain't Gotta Lie (Ta Kick It), with some funny (for once) guest vocals from Chris Rock, 'The Gutter Shit', absolutely slammin; in fact with the exception of the Bone Thugs ballad collaboration, this whole record is all huge sick beats, Cube's intense in your face delivery, and way funny lyrics (I mean, when did you ever think you'd hear Ice Cube rap about Pokemon?) If you haven't seen Cube's hilarious Friday films, rent 'em. If you have, expect this disc to be the the aural equivalent (what Friday and Next Friday were to Boyz In The Hood, "Peace" is to NWA and "Amerikkka's Most Wanted").
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Following Vaisanen, Ryoji Ikeda's contribution to the series is a wicked example of bruitist electronica whereby a sine wave blasting a headrattling throb evolves slowly into Pan Sonic style 'grooves'. Its end result is quite simply painful.
The Strokes, Andrew W.K., The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Liars, and now Interpol are part of a recent rash of New York punkish bands birthed from the music hype machine as the great salvation of rock 'n' roll. Strange that these bands would garner such praise, since none of them operate outside of the arena of the homage -- either as ironic hyperbole in Andrew W.K. or as The Strokes' downward mobility to blue collar rockisms. Of all the aforementioned bands, Interpol seem the most interesting as they've managed to successfully resurrect Ian Curtis, a task that hasn't really met with much success in other bands. I mention just Curtis, as his persona seems to resonate much more strongly with Interpol than Joy Division as a whole. Sure there are ghosts of Factory's post-punk jaggedness and mororsely bleak temperament; but Interpol's forceful minor keys offer other roadstops past The Strokes' take on brightly-colored, guitar jangle and the sublime washes of fuzzy feedback heard in the early '90s shoegazer bands (MBV, Ride, Slowdive, etc.). Musically, Interpol's debut "Turn On The Bright Lights" is an excellent marriage of those aforementioned styles; but like Joy Division, Interpol is driven by a charismatic singer with a flair for dramatic bombast and a predilection for angst. Paul Banks, Interpol's singer, is a rare breed in the contemporary world of depressed vocalists who have typically followed the emo-centric whimper and scream approach of Sunny Day Real Estate to infuse any lyrical content with immediacy and passion. Instead, Banks can actually really sing, his nervous vibrato echoing the musical accompaniment played between depressed weariness and urgent conviction.
Much of Interpol's aesthetic choices and lyrical content (love / hate relationships, urban isolationism, and sexual dependency) have already been done to death, but few have been able to do them as well. "Turn On The Bright Lights" is a fantastic record and actually lives up to all of the hype that has surrounded it.
So here we go again! Iron And Wine's The Creek Drank The Cradle was an AQ record of the week last year, was a unanimous staff favorite, and made most of our top ten lists for the year. Rightfully so we might add. A more beautiful and perfect record we hadn't heard in forever. And a lot of times we try not to make another record by the same band a record of the week, since usually it's hard for a band to deliver another record as good as THAT record, the one that blew us away and convinced us it had to be record of the week. But of course sometimes we do, and sometimes a band does, and this new Iron And Wine just happens to be that record. Sam Beam, who pretty much IS Iron And Wine has upped the ante, somehow navigating the precarious course of trying to progress and grow and explore, without ruining what was already basically perfect. And somehow he's done it. All of the things we loved so much about the first record are still present: gently fingerpicked guitar, sweetly breathy vocals, gorgeous harmonies, melancholy melodies, twangy banjo, slippery slide guitar, wistful and cryptic lyrics amd songs. The songs! So perfectly sweet and instantly classic. Songs that you find yourself humming to yourself even after only one listen. So what is it about this new record that makes it worthy of record of the week status? Hard to say. In fact we weren't sure if this record was actually better, or if we were just so excited to have more Iron And Wine! Because on first listen, Our Endless Numbered Days sounds like the perfect part two of The Creek Drank The Cradle. Which is a good thing. A very good thing in fact. We were all wishing The Creek was twice as long or even ten times as long. One of those records you want to never end. But the more we listened to Our Endless Numbered Days, the more it revealed itself as an entirely new record. But subtly so. It's a little more aggressive, and propulsive, the drums play a bigger part, and there are some distinctly intense bits, where the guitars are rough and the drums kind of rock. But only kind of. The core of the record is still Beam's perfect pop songs, twangy and folky, but sweet and lush, with melodies that while totally memorable and unforgettable, are so unique and fresh to your ears that you just have to sit and listen and let the sounds and songs envelop you. Some obvious reference points are Elliott Smith, America, Bread, Palace, Songs:Ohia, but the more you listen, and the more we hear from Iron And Wine, the more we realise that Beam occupies a singular place in popular music, referencing all sort of other musics, but existing totally and completely in his own sonic space. It's a rare performer who can pull that off, especially nowdays drawing from a century of recorded music.
So here we go again! Iron And Wine's The Creek Drank The Cradle was an AQ record of the week last year, was a unanimous staff favorite, and made most of our top ten lists for the year. Rightfully so we might add. A more beautiful and perfect record we hadn't heard in forever. And a lot of times we try not to make another record by the same band a record of the week, since usually it's hard for a band to deliver another record as good as THAT record, the one that blew us away and convinced us it had to be record of the week. But of course sometimes we do, and sometimes a band does, and this new Iron And Wine just happens to be that record. Sam Beam, who pretty much IS Iron And Wine has upped the ante, somehow navigating the precarious course of trying to progress and grow and explore, without ruining what was already basically perfect. And somehow he's done it. All of the things we loved so much about the first record are still present: gently fingerpicked guitar, sweetly breathy vocals, gorgeous harmonies, melancholy melodies, twangy banjo, slippery slide guitar, wistful and cryptic lyrics amd songs. The songs! So perfectly sweet and instantly classic. Songs that you find yourself humming to yourself even after only one listen. So what is it about this new record that makes it worthy of record of the week status? Hard to say. In fact we weren't sure if this record was actually better, or if we were just so excited to have more Iron And Wine! Because on first listen, Our Endless Numbered Days sounds like the perfect part two of The Creek Drank The Cradle. Which is a good thing. A very good thing in fact. We were all wishing The Creek was twice as long or even ten times as long. One of those records you want to never end. But the more we listened to Our Endless Numbered Days, the more it revealed itself as an entirely new record. But subtly so. It's a little more aggressive, and propulsive, the drums play a bigger part, and there are some distinctly intense bits, where the guitars are rough and the drums kind of rock. But only kind of. The core of the record is still Beam's perfect pop songs, twangy and folky, but sweet and lush, with melodies that while totally memorable and unforgettable, are so unique and fresh to your ears that you just have to sit and listen and let the sounds and songs envelop you. Some obvious reference points are Elliott Smith, America, Bread, Palace, Songs:Ohia, but the more you listen, and the more we hear from Iron And Wine, the more we realise that Beam occupies a singular place in popular music, referencing all sort of other musics, but existing totally and completely in his own sonic space. It's a rare performer who can pull that off, especially nowdays drawing from a century of recorded music.
If anyone has the ability to carry the post-Surrealist torch of Nurse With Wound, it would have to be Matt Waldron through his irr. app. (ext.) project. Like Nurse With Wound's eccentric genius Stapleton, Waldron would never qualify himself as a Surrealist, but it's a good jumping off point to describe their respective works. With Ozeanische Gefuhle, Waldron establishes irr. app. (ext.) establishes himself as one of the most gifted sound-sculptors whose work have passed through the doors of Aquarius. If you've ever picked up any drone / minimalist / ambient records or even just anything that Andee has poetically described as 'completely fucked', then you owe it yourself to pick up Ozeanische Gefuhle. This review could ramble on and on, but let's cut to the chase and state the obvious, this album is brilliant.
Strangely enough, Ozeanische Gefuhle -- as great as it is -- almost disappeared into the ether, as it was slated for release a few years back on another label who just sat on it for years, much to the chagrin of Mr. Waldron. Fortunately, the good people at the Helen Scarsdale Agency rectified the situation and made sure this album got its due recognition.
The title itself is an allusion to Wilhelm Reich, who used the term to describe the natural state of every healthy organism as connected to and engaged with the world around it. Such ideas in lesser hands would result in limp idylltronica with New Age sentimentality; but this is not the case for irr. app. (ext.), who solidly grounds this record upon a fundamental drone, which slinks its way through numerous field recordings and performative gestures. Waldron's masterpiece emerges as a tidal current of electronic sound, rumbling through blackened spaces and soaring with divine expressivity. As good if not better than anything by Nurse With Wound, Organum, :zoviet france:, Phill Niblock, and the Hafler Trio. Yeah, it's that good!
Since we made Jesu's debut full length on Hydrahead one of our records of the week a couple lists ago, it was pretty much a no brainer that Jesu's Heart Ache ep would have to be a record of the week as well. Especially since some of us might actually even like it a little better than the full length, and unlike the Hydrahead release, this one has been impossibly difficult to track down, until now.
Heart Ache, released on Dry Run, a tiny UK independent label, was to be our first glimpse of Justin Broadrick's much anticipated post Godflesh project (but for most of us, it's actually a second glimpse since it's taken until now for us to get copies to list) and sonically it sounds exactly like you might imagine a record between the last Godflesh record and the totally amazing Jesu full length would sound.
We had all pretty much given up on Godflesh. Gone was the glorious industrial pummel of Streetcleaner and gone too was the dubbed out machine metal of Slavestate, and in their place, tired rehashed riffs, shouted atonal vocals, and uninspired songwriting. So while our age-old love of early Godflesh had us super excited to hear this Jesu everyone was talking about, we were pretty much ready to be disappointed. Which was precisely why we were so blown away when we finally heard it. Everything we loved about Godflesh was there, plus a new found love of melody, swoonsome clean vocals, expanded insturmentation (piano!) and extended slow building tracks of brooding intensity and smoldering instrumental ferocity, all smeared into dreamy industrial bliss drone epics!
Unlike the full length, on which Jesu is a full band with a live drummer, on Heart Ache, Jesu is just Broadrick, a guitar, a piano, and of course a drum machine. Ahhh, the drum machine. How it warms our Streetcleaner worshipping hearts. Clangy and clattery, brittle guitars soar over crumbling distorted rumbles, all machinelike and clinical but imbued with a weirdly organic lushness. Drifting clouds of ghostly feedback, sonic vapor trails of haunting minor key swells, all slip and shift into vast stretches of shimmering cinematic ambience, with slowly pealing guitar tones and synthesized chant-like vocals, gorgeously melancholy almost Goblin-esque in its creepy beauty. Everything held together by smooth, clean, barely affected vocals, all dreary and weary, repeating simple mantra-like lyrics, distant and otherworldly. The whole thing sheds its industrial armor as it moves forward, showing more skin, becoming more vulnerable, becoming less and less rigid, and more and more soft and indistinct. Pretty, dreamy, blissed out and sweetly sorrowful, with Broadrick's endlessly repeated, haunting refrain drifitng and fading, like a mirage that may have never been there at all. And that's just the first track.
The second track is just as surprising as the first, starting off with spare solo piano, joined eventually by simple, finger-picked guitar, eventually drifting into a simple low end piano chord, repeated over and over and over, floating in the inky blackness, until the song lurches into a sludgy crawl, with huge murky downtuned riffs (think Fudge Tunnel's "Hate Song" at 16rpm), but then Broderick confounds again with heavily delayed, clean vocals, singing in a strangely hypnotic counterpoint to the main riff. Dizzying and quite lovely. It's a constant tug of war between the black hole tar pit dirge and the almost hopeful sounding vocals. Like the first song, track two devolves into a whole 'nother beast, as it slows down and blisses out, with lilting melodies creeping into the sludge and making what was only moments before a metallic behemoth crushing all in its wake, into a creepy rickety, buzzy back porch crawl, spare and skeletal, with distorted piano, buzzing fret noise and lots of ambient reverb that's gradually smoothed out into a fuzzy smear of static, beneath a simple low end piano figure, chiming and ringing out into nothingness. One of those rare records that manages to be heavy yet pretty, beautiful but scary, sweet and sorrowful, darkly doomy and gloriously luminous!
This debut ep from Justin Broadrick's (of Godflesh) new outift Jesu has been a bit tough to keep in stock, and since when we originally had it we loved it so much we made it Record Of The Week, and since we finally managed to get more, we figured we'd relist it so those of you who missed out the first time can get another crack. Here's what we had to say about it last time:
Since we made Jesu's debut full length on Hydrahead one of our records of the week recently, it was pretty much a no brainer that Jesu's Heart Ache ep would have to be a record of the week as well. Especially since some of us might actually even like it a little better than the full length, and unlike the Hydrahead release, this one has been impossibly difficult to track down, until now.
Heart Ache, released on Dry Run, a tiny UK independent label, was to be our first glimpse of Justin Broadrick's much anticipated post Godflesh project (but for most of us, it's actually a second glimpse since it's taken until now for us to get copies to list) and sonically it sounds exactly like you might imagine a record between the last Godflesh record and the totally amazing Jesu full length would sound.
We had all pretty much given up on Godflesh. Gone was the glorious industrial pummel of Streetcleaner and gone too was the dubbed out machine metal of Slavestate, and in their place, tired rehashed riffs, shouted atonal vocals, and uninspired songwriting. So while our age-old love of early Godflesh had us super excited to hear this Jesu everyone was talking about, we were pretty much ready to be disappointed. Which was precisely why we were so blown away when we finally heard it. Everything we loved about Godflesh was there, plus a new found love of melody, swoonsome clean vocals, expanded insturmentation (piano!) and extended slow building tracks of brooding intensity and smoldering instrumental ferocity, all smeared into dreamy industrial bliss drone epics!
Unlike the full length, on which Jesu is a full band with a live drummer, on Heart Ache, Jesu is just Broadrick, a guitar, a piano, and of course a drum machine. Ahhh, the drum machine. How it warms our Streetcleaner worshipping hearts. Clangy and clattery, brittle guitars soar over crumbling distorted rumbles, all machinelike and clinical but imbued with a weirdly organic lushness. Drifting clouds of ghostly feedback, sonic vapor trails of haunting minor key swells, all slip and shift into vast stretches of shimmering cinematic ambience, with slowly pealing guitar tones and synthesized chant-like vocals, gorgeously melancholy almost Goblin-esque in its creepy beauty. Everything held together by smooth, clean, barely affected vocals, all dreary and weary, repeating simple mantra-like lyrics, distant and otherworldly. The whole thing sheds its industrial armor as it moves forward, showing more skin, becoming more vulnerable, becoming less and less rigid, and more and more soft and indistinct. Pretty, dreamy, blissed out and sweetly sorrowful, with Broadrick's endlessly repeated, haunting refrain drifitng and fading, like a mirage that may have never been there at all. And that's just the first track.
The second track is just as surprising as the first, starting off with spare solo piano, joined eventually by simple, finger-picked guitar, eventually drifting into a simple low end piano chord, repeated over and over and over, floating in the inky blackness, until the song lurches into a sludgy crawl, with huge murky downtuned riffs (think Fudge Tunnel's "Hate Song" at 16rpm), but then Broderick confounds again with heavily delayed, clean vocals, singing in a strangely hypnotic counterpoint to the main riff. Dizzying and quite lovely. It's a constant tug of war between the black hole tar pit dirge and the almost hopeful sounding vocals. Like the first song, track two devolves into a whole 'nother beast, as it slows down and blisses out, with lilting melodies creeping into the sludge and making what was only moments before a metallic behemoth crushing all in its wake, into a creepy rickety, buzzy back porch crawl, spare and skeletal, with distorted piano, buzzing fret noise and lots of ambient reverb that's gradually smoothed out into a fuzzy smear of static, beneath a simple low end piano figure, chiming and ringing out into nothingness. One of those rare records that manages to be heavy yet pretty, beautiful but scary, sweet and sorrowful, darkly doomy and gloriously luminous!
In his entire musical career Blind Willie Johnson recorded almost exclusively spiritual songs, and did so in one the most unforgettable, hair-raisingly beautiful, gravel filled voice -- a voice that could make Tom Waits and Howlin' Wolf blush. If that's not enough, Blind Willie Johnson also played a truly inspired slide guitar.
Okay, no bullshit. This is one of the stupidest things we've ever heard. But with the catchiest electro-pop groove accompanying a male German disco diva reciting I'm The Disco Dancing! [sic] complete with vocalized whip snaps, the b-side to this single has become THE club hit for the AQ staff this month (you wouldn't believe how many times we've played this in the store!). A-side 'You're The One' is certainly less of a brain rot boogie with croonsome vocals a la Jarvis Cocker and a squelchy big beat pop song that destroys Fat Boy Slim and the Chemical Bros. Oddly enough, Aphex protege Cylob is responsible for the two great mixes filling out this four-track single. Better than 'I'm Too Sexy', up there with 'Der Commissar', somehow kinda like both. No ifs, ands, or buts...you'll either think this is silly and hate it, or think it's silly and love it. We love it!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Friedrich Jurgensen's efforts in what he deemed Audioscopic Research is compiled here as the exquisite follow-up to AQ's Halloween fave "The Ghost Orchid." Both are collections of (alleged) recordings of examples of Electronic Voice Phenomenon (EVP), which is a broad catagory of unusual interruptions by unknown voices onto magnetic tape or the radiowaves. Parapsychologists like Jurgensen, Raymond Cass, and Konstatine Raudive (the latter two were featured on the aforementioned "Ghost Orchid") claim that these voices may be from beyond the grave or may even have an extraterrestrial origin! While other researchers have devised intricate methods to focus these voices, Jurgensen claimed that his own telepathic tendencies could harness these voices, causing them to appear on radio or tape. All of Jurgensen's recordings feature voices speaking in German, Italian, Swedish, and (if that wasn't enough) polyglot--the intermingling of languages.
One of the criticisms of EVP investigation is that the listener/researcher may be forcing the syllabic utterances into the recognizable patterns of his/her own native tongue or within the confines of a narrative context. While no one is questioning the actual presence of these vocal sounds, the interpretations (of origin and/or translation) that accompany the recordings are far from solid. As I have no real working knowledge of any of the languages featured, an utterance from one of the tracks which was supposed to be in Italian or German came out as clear as day to me in English as "we have to leave." Does this debunk the possibility that these recordings are of alien/ghostly origins? No. Could it be an interesting anomaly within the context of analytical thought on the subject? Maybe. Could I be wrong? Quite possibly. Anyway, listened to purely as sound artifacts, Jurgensen's recordings are downright creepy, and highly recommended!
Newly reissued, now as a 2-on-1 with another, later album, we've previously listed a cd of Kirikyogen, organist/pianist Kuni Kawachi's 1970 recording with hard rockin' Japanese psych geniuses Flower Travellin' Band (which barely preceded those AQ faves debut on their own, Anywhere, also 1970). Kawachi came from sixties Group Sounds band The Happenings Four, and made a great decision in teaming up with the nascent FTB (who had started off as Yuya Uchida and the Flowers, another GS act) for Kirikyogen, especially since Flowers/FTB had recently recruited Joe Yamanaka, the inimitable vocalist whose trademark wail did much to make Flower Travellin' Band band stand out from the pack later on. With Joe on the mic, and guitarist Hideki Ishima coming into his own, Kirikyogen is very much Flower Travellin' Band, the prequel! Meanwhile, Kawachi's Hammond organ grumblings add a nice touch to the tracks here, which he also wrote, for the most part. In addition to Kawachi's organ, singer Joe plays his harmonica more than he did on later recordings, giving these recordings a bluesier sound. While we're not going to tell you this is anything near as great as FTB's Satori or even Made In Japan, it's got some great heavy psychedelic jams (like the title track, and "Works Composed Mainly By Human") that are certainly as good as anything they did for their first album. If anything, they are a lot closer to what ended up on Satori, albeit a great deal more primordial and lacking the taughtness of their later works. It should also be noted that Kirikyogen is about 1/2 heavy Hendrix-y grooves, 1/2 more acoustic-y (but lovely), not as heavy melodic material.
Also to be noted, as alluded to above, this cd reissue also includes Kawachi's 1972 follow-up Love Suki Daikirai, which is appears as the first 14 tracks here for some reason rather than being presented in chronological fashion. Love Suki Daikirai doesn't feature any FTB folks (and is thus automatically less rockin'), but does have Kimio Mizutani on guitars, whose solo album A Path Through Haze was also recently reissued by Bamboo and reviewed by us (and which happened to feature, yes, Kuni Kawachi on keyboards!). Much more gentle and meandering than its predecessor, this later album certainly has its beautiful and/or freaky moments, but Kirikyogen, #25 in Julian Copes "Japrocksampler" Top 50, is still the primary reason to pick this up.
So this collection of King Tubby dubs called "Lost Treasures" was released some time ago. It's one of the few on this label that we haven't listed yet. It's not because it's a bad disc that it hasn't been listed, but because apparently the dubs on the album are suspect, ie: bogus dubs. After King Tubby was murdered in 1989, friends coming by the studio to pay their respects made off with armloads of master tapes (including a good deal of Lee Perry produced material that was in King Tubby's possession.) Apparently, according to those in the know, those tracks on that Tubby mix were not mixed on his board, and do not include the trademark effects gear that Tubby used. It's actually a nice record, with some great rhythm tracks and excellent playing all over the place, plus the fidelity is superb -- coming from the master tapes -- they just weren't mixed by King Tubby, but were more likely done posthumously. So I'm trying to sort out this mess with the Tubby dubs, because I still want to list it, and then I find out that the Lee Perry disc on Jamaican Recordings -- "Skanking With The Upsetter" -- is also chock full of bogus dubs. Boy do I feel like a sucker.
So now I'm wondering if any of the albums that Jamaican Recordings have released are legit. One of the biggest suspects in the 'theft' of Tubby's tapes is none other than Striker, a.k.a. Bunny, a.k.a. E. Lee (whose name is all over Jamaican Recordings' releases as producer and copywrite holder.) Bunny was one of King Tubby's biggest clients and through the seventies Tubby was essentially Bunny's engineer, so a lot of the sessions that make up the source material for much of Jamaican Recordings' catalog are in fact produced by him. In that case it is arguable that these tapes are legally his anyhow (except maybe the Perry tapes which make up 'Skanking With the Upsetter'). So technically these aren't even bootlegs, like the nefarious Abraham's LPs. But why bother faking it by calling them rare dub plates and yadda, yadda, yadda? If Mr Bunny Lee is the legit owner of the original master tapes, why not just release them as contemporary dub mixes of classic Aggrovators material? I think people would have more respect for that in the long run, as it is suspicion and allegations of illegitimacy that will eventually catch up with this label and hurt sales. Or maybe not; I've been surprised before. Legit-Tubby or ersatz-Tubby; this album is still fucking great. The slap-back delay on percussion never fails to float my boat and the source material is all first rate, taken primarily from mid-seventies Aggrovators productions by Bunny Lee and layed down at the best studios (Dynamic, Randy's & Channel 1.) Like all releases on Jamaican Recordings, the CD versions all have extra tracks not included on the vinyl and in the case of 'Lost Treasures' there are a few really nice ones that are only available on the aluminum disc.
Here's the second of three vinyl reissues of the early, seminal work from Thomas Koner, who alongside Andrew Chalk may stand as the greatest drone artist from the past few decades. Teimo is an album that was originally released as a cd on Barooni in 1992. Like its predecessor Nunatak Gongamur, Koner had sourced much of Teimo from recordings of gongs, using contact microphones and hydrophones to capture an unusual assortment of resonance, timbre, and decaying frequencies from his gongs. In these recordings, Koner was investigating what he qualified as an 'aesthetic of decline' shaped by the processes of decay, thermal cooling, and any gradual event that will achieve stasis. Water seeking its own level. Glaciers amassing in frozen landscapes. The metal fatigue of submarines, cracking under the pressure of an entire ocean. The long sustained metallic resonances of the gong is an apt tool for his conceptual framework, with Koner further manipulating his sources into elegant passages of subharmonic rumblings that utter subtle melodic phrases whilst shaking the bottom of the seafloor. Amidst the low-end drones and allusions to barren landscapes, Koner takes great care to keep the sounds immersive without imbuing them with terror. Yes, this is 'dark' ambient music, but his aesthetic of decline is far more clinical than say the theatrical drama that Lustmord can muster through his deadly recordings. Koner's quest is for the sublime, filled with awe and beauty simultaneously; and he has effortlessly achieved that quest throughout his career, certainly including this masterful record. Limited to 500 copies.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Mille Plateaux has seen fit to reissue two of the three early isolationist recordings from Thomas Koner. At the time (being the early '90s), those three records (sadly there's no sight of a reissue of the best of the three: "Nunatak Gongamur") stood as a bleak dark ambient monuments that were too alien for the global hippy ambience of contemporaries like The Orb or Future Sound of London. However, Koner's membership in Porter Ricks - which defined the trajectory of the Chain Reaction washed out techno minimalism - has inspired more than a few techno boffins to look back at Koner's post-industrial roots. Very nice deep listening drones.
