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IMPORTANT (Please read to avoid confusion): Some items below may be tagged with a bold, red, all-caps OUT OF PRINT/UNAVAILABLE notice. This does NOT mean that all other items not so tagged are, in fact, in stock — or for that matter, in print and available, though there's a good chance they are. Some folks get confused on this point, and we can see why, so please read this for further clarification and other important before-you-order information. Unlike some mailorder websites, we don't have an electronic inventory system linked to our site, so you can't be sure of what we actually have or don't have in stock at any given moment without asking us — please email our mailorder department for availability status — or better yet, just go ahead and place your order using our shopping cart function and we'll get back to you with the status of each item. If you have general non-mailorder questions, email the store.

Showing results 51 through 100 of 235.

Beautifully hypnotic, guitar-driven electronica from the Virginian duo of Stephen Gardner and Ben Bailes. Their third full length and first for Los Angeles-based Plug Research, "Overnight" is quite a departure from Chessie's underachieving,

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The Chicks on Speed return with more of their stupid art school crap. "Chix 52" finds these talentless morons covering the B-52s ("leave the B52s alone, dammit!"), and ending up sounding even worse than the Kathleen Hanna electronica project Julie Ruin. Yeah, it's that bad. Heck, even if you liked Julie Ruin (as some here did), this is bad. Do not buy this, unless you want to be stuck with the worst album of the year. I'm fucking serious.

Stupid art-school crap. That's all this is. Don't say we didn't warn you. Dunno why The Wire devoted a page to 'em, except that they have some connection to the Mego / Mille Plateaux scene. There's a bunch of special guests on this record but we'll refrain from embarrassing any of these Austrian electronic-nerds further by naming them. A horrific cover of "Warm Leatherette" seals their fate.

Berlin-based art school pop darlings Chicks On Speed team up with Dusseldorf post-Kraftwerk electro craftsmen Kreidler for four arty synthpop anthems. As expected, the collaboration quickly becomes a throwaway novelty as the Chicks' ridiculous post-ironic,

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THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. A double seven inch from the DHR electronica realms of low IQ punk fury thrown onto 808s and powerbooks. Chicks on Speed follows Cobra Killer's alienated and blatant sampling in a new wave context... DMX Krew (the same who did those cheese-ball electro cuts for Rephlex???) cranks out the punk rock songs, literally.

Debut long player from the Cologne duo of Matias Aguayo (formerly of Zimt, alongside glitter-tech-house rocker Michael Mayer) and Dirk Levers. Certainly one of the most pop oriented Kompakt outfits, Closer Musik synthesizes glamourous electro and erotic lyricism with that mesmerizing minimal thump of Cologne. Includes the killer singles "Closer Dancer" and "You Don't Know Me" plus the beautiful "Departures" that was featured way back on the Kompakt Total 3 compilation.

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Hip hop's great white hope is not Eminem, no matter what MTV tells you, it's cLOUDDEAD and the East Bay's Anticon collective which he proudly represents, and that has already produced avant-hip-hop masterpieces from Boom Bip and Dose One and Them. This cd collects the 6 super limited cLOUDDEAD 10"s, (some of which we still have in stock) and much like the Them record, this is

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New converts to the garage-y goodness of Thee Oh Sees might not remember Oh Sees mainman John Dwyer's former outfit the Coachwhips, who set the template for what would in fact eventually become our beloved Oh Sees. But the Coachwhips were a much more feral proposition, seething sweaty blown out minimal/maximal garage punk stomp. Way back in 2001, here's how we described this fearsome threesome: John Dwyer. Rhode Island via SF scene fixture, daily aQ-visitor, roundly acknowledged wise ass, some people just know him as "Pink" (of Pink & Brown). As crazy hyper leader of garage-trash trio Coachwhips, he'll twist you around, sass you to your face, make you duck for cover, he'll jump on the tables in a frenzy of just wanting to wake up this town, this scene, our sorry mellow asses. He'll screech into a voicebox and wreak havoc with the guitar while the other John (Harlow) pounds the floor tom and MaryAnn wields the tambourine so hard she might break it. Like Pussy Galore and the Gories ran over the White Stripes in the middle of the road! Grimy three chord rockin' with energy to burn. And even a decade plus later, this reissued (first time on vinyl!) stuff still sounds so goddamn good. Fierce and fun, wild and loose, sweat soaked and bloody knuckled, a gloriously hyper kinetic, ear drum destroying blast of garage-y goodness that will surely hit the spot for fans of the current crop of SF garage rock combos, and a sweet blast from the past for those of us who were there the first time around! Now includes six "unheard" bonus tracks, and the vinyl comes with a download.

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We here at Aquarius haven't agreed with the critical acclaim that's greeted the recent output of Coil; however, we do agree that their second proper album "Horse Rotovator" should still be viewed as one of the great electronic albums of the 1980s. Immersed in Industrial Culture's transgressive ideologies, and thus intended as perversions of contemporary media and politics, Coil produced With bands like Peaches and Trans Am trawling the '80s solely for the purpose of irony, Coil's work from that decade may appear today as excessively bombastic, too homoerotic, or downright dated. However, "Horse Rotovator" and the criminally unavailable "Love's Secret Domain" undeniably stand at the apex of Coil's extensive career.

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The re-issue of "Love's Secret Domain" from 1991 is not unlike unearthing a long lost exquisite treasure. Obsessively coveted and revered over the last decade, it re-emerges still sounding fresh and current. Sadly and strangely, this album was often During the construction of this album, Coil's core duo -- Peter Christopherson and John Balance -- had immersed themselves in the acid house culture of the UK that flourished around The KLF (I don't care what you think of "What Time is Love," The KLF were geniuses in the art of pop subversion), 808 State, and even the early bleep techno from Warp Records. To Coil, the UK rave culture reflected many of their own ideas of transgression through almost pagan rituals of communities uniting around liberating music, sexual exploration, chemical enlightenment, and the release of hidden dark energies from the body and spirit. "Love's Secret Domain" embodied a near-perfect harmony between the dark, occultish overtones from their previous albums "Scatology" and "Horse Rotovator" and the technological futurism at the heart of rave culture. Within this synthesis, Coil has not just created a handful of singles (although "The Snow" and "Windowpane" off of this album still make great dancefloor fodder), but has articulated the entire album as a sonic narrative. Swelling through the sampledelic abstraction on "Disco Hospital" (recently covered by admitted Coil fans Matmos) and the surreal tension of "Things Happen" (with Annie Anxiety Bandez' obtuse guest vocal appearance), Coil offers "The Snow" as a magnificient techno track, with creepy cut-ups of choral elements, constantly shifting and reforming melody patterns, and an 808 techno pulse. "Windowpane" in turn is far more seductive in its low slung bassline and downtempo pace. The rest of the album continues through a darkened path of hallucinatory electronics, intricate instrumentations, and occasional bursts of subverted pop sentiment. Unlike a lot of electronica records, nothing on "Love's Secret Domain" ever feels like filler. This is a marvelous record that even after a decade has very few rivals.

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During the past decade, Coil has undergone a drastic metamorphosis that began with the extravagantly dark electronica of "Love's Secret Domain" and continued up to the kosmische ambience of "Musick To Listen To In Dark Vol 2." With all of the albums since Coil intended to thematically correspond these songs' droning poetry to the solstices and equinoxes corresponding to when they were made. Mostly they center around a miasmic abstraction of spartan, dirge arrangements for a few instruments (cellos, church organs, spanish guitar), maintaining their solemn pursuit into sonic alchemy. For the most part, Coil's John Balance hushes his voice into mere whispers of his pagan recitations, which barely stand out of the lulling instrumentation, although "The White Rainbow" track from the Winter single stands out as a eulogaic song dominated by Balance's rich singing. The album works much better than as a collection of singles whose original release format seemed far too abrupt for the extended atmospheres that are common throughout the whole series. And to piss off everybody who bought the original series, Coil included a bonus live track.

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Psychedelic speed garage punk from Santa Cruz! Comets On Fire fuse the amphetamine energy of High Rise with hyper-distorted vocals and electronic tweakery. The SF/Bay Area has been sprouting lots of intense garage-punk acts lately, most of which (try to) rehash the sound of the MC5 and cop the style of the Stooges (it's hard not to), but what really sets these boys ahead of all the others

Not a new release, but we managed to get a few in stock for the moment, so we thought we'd list this. We got turned on to the Confusional Quartet (great name!) a while back because of a review our friend Tim Ellison wrote in his great 'zine Modern Rock

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A beautifully rendered document of the early stages of this San Francisco trio. A posthumous release of sorts, considering the radical personnel changes since the recording of "Fast Talks". But alas, we can now enjoy the magic of what once was. Comparisons to Beefheart's Magic Band, The Shaggs or the reserved expansiveness of guitarists like Derek Bailey, Taku Sugimoto or Fred Frith certainly come to mind, though those likenesses are only fragments of the larger landscape. The duelling guitars of Chris Cohen and Trevor Shimizu weave into one another, not colliding or stepping on each others toes, but crafting a web in which the stumbling percussive rolls of drummer Jamie Peterson (ex-Saint Andre) are able to grasp onto. Peterson's unique style recalls the Magic Band's John "Drumbo" French, though with more reservation and a playful discretion. In fact most of the songs on "Fast Talks" are refreshing in their sheer simplicity and sense of discovery. You might be inclined to say "naive" upon first listen, as remnants of "outsider" artists such as The Shaggs can be traced through their arrangements, though these pieces are extremely well conceived, complex and strongly informed by restraint and the spaces in between. Several moments throughout the record even contain qualities which recall another SF avant-rock outfit -- Deerhoof -- whose guitarist John Dieterich, coincidentally, takes production controls here. Vinyl only, and gorgeously packaged as per the Thin Wrist standard of excellence.

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Cylob's new three-track single has caused a bit of a stir here at AQ. Not 'cause of the title track, a catchy electronic pop-dance ditty a little safer than similar efforts from Aphex and Squarepusher ("My Red Hot Car" comes to mind, but this is less edgy, more

"Showroom Dummies" is the latest performance piece developed by the Grenoble, France dance company Groupe DACM. The acclaimed organization is known for its maverick and unorthodox approach in their use of new media and radical experimentation. Don't know too much about the full story behind "Showroom Dummies", the images accompanying the Mego packaging bring to mind a macabre Vanessa Beecroft performance. In conceptual essence, it places characters -- based on icons of fiction Wanda Von Sacher-Masoch and Yvonne, Princess Of Burgundy -- in situations of submission and resistance, studying the fine line between desire and disgust. In their attempt to complement the confrontational nature within these themes of repulsion and erotism, Groupe DACM had employed the notoriously abrasive (and confrontational in his own right!) Peter Rehberg aka Pita. Unlike the full on scathing aural tornado prevalent in his solo recordings and with Ramon Bauer, Rehberg splices snippets of his aural shrapnel into rhythmic repetitive patterns of subtlety. Perhaps the involvement of Japanese musician Noriko Tujiko in early constructions of the pieces could explain the reserved intensity. However, this release does not credit her for any part of the production, though she is given an acknowledgement of gratitude. Having said that, Rehberg is still extremely effective in his own attempt to exploit the dichotomy of harshness within a docile and inviting arrangement, the pieces here subversively insert a sense of intemperance in a "safe" habitat. Somewhat suspicious of his intent in creating linear cosmopolitan "dance music" under the guise of performance art, some of these pieces could very well be mistaken for fluid dancefloor rhythm tracks, aesthetically resembling a chance meeting between Pan Sonic and Merzbow (like that hasn't happened before). At least one track is an obviously deconstructed trance techno track, pummeled out of its own melody into another dimension. Ultimately, Rehberg regurgitates these consummations into his own beast child. Frigid and austere, yet wholly engaging and seemingly harmless on its surface, "Showroom Dummies" lures you into its web only to chew you up and spit you back out. Lovely.

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Formed in the discreet industrial town of Lille, France, DAT Politics -- a former side project of Sub Rosa post rock outfit Tone Rec -- has evolved into a full-time labor of love. For four years, the trio (formerly a quartet) have been transforming

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Menlo Park, after nearly four years, finally got it together and put out a way outdated second lp from SF art pop faves Deerhoof. Recorded before their sophomore "Holdypaws", prior to the inclusion of Kelly on keys, "Halfbird" continues on the abrasive path

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Repressed and back in stock!! Our original review: It is incredible that this prog damaged pop group from San Francisco, which thrives on simplicity, can continually create complexly playful and riddling compositions while maintaining a bashful earnestness that totally offsets any and all chances that their musical prowess and ingenuity will falter into the category of 'wank'. Through Deerhoof's ten year existence, there have been numerous changes in personnel and instrumentation, but even through these variables there is a solidarity and consistency in the songwriting that is uniquely Deerhoof. While not as wildly cacophonous and volatile as 1997's The Man The King The Girl, there has been a return of sorts here (as on last year's Apple O') to a certain looseness that had been held back on the lushly crafted Reveille. Milk Man, their sixth long player, maintains the taut rock sound perfected on Apple O' whilst introducing more sonically diverse elements to the everyday Deerhoof palette (most notably: crackling electronics, horns and/or woodwinds - is that a flute or a pocket trumpet on 'Milking'? - synthesizers and organs, and what sounds like to these ears, a Happy Apple*?) John Deiterich and Chris Cohen's awkwardly perfect harmonizations weave into Greg Saunier's John-French-by-way-of-Keith-Moon drum blasts, emblazoned with Satomi Matsuzaki's mesmerizing vocal ornaments on rockers like the opening title track, 'That Big Orange Sun Run Over Speed Light' and 'Milking'. The lovely 'Desaparecere' is an electronically backed number that evokes the Brazilian work of Joao and Astrud Gilberto (though the lyrics are in Spanish rather than Portuguese...). The previously released single 'C', is reprised here in all its hand-clapping and falsetto glory. As beautiful and bewildering as past releases, what I think shines through most on Milk Man is its cohesive solidarity as a single album. *for those who are curious (like Allan, who had to ask), a Happy Apple was a children's toy made by Fisher Price in the seventies. It's basically a six inch tall plastic apple with a happy face that, when shaken, makes a pretty polyphonic "chiming bells" sound. Kinda like windchimes, but muted since the elements which makes the sounds are encased in plastic. If you crack one open, you'll see that it's a simple circular design of four or five metal rods of varying length, with a pendulum-like ball in the center that hammers at them when agitated. I have a few of 'em at home, I always pick them up at flea markets. No two sound exactly alike! Anyway, there are occasional chiming sounds on this new Deerhoof record that I suspect are in fact from a Happy Apple, but I could be wrong...

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Three new songs of fractured pop dreaminess from the SF trio, including a cover of The Shaggs' "My Pal Foot Foot". Also features Jeff's favorite Deerhoof track, "Sunny Forty Fours", a stripped down prog-pop lullaby with heavy analog synth stylings! Released on XBXRX's Nothing Fancy Just Music label out of Mobile, Alabama.

Gosh. What can I say? This is absolutely the finest moment of Deerhoof's recorded output. At 34 minutes, there is absolutely no filler on Reveille: it is an astonishingly precise and accomplished half hour of some of the most challenging, interesting avant-rock we've heard in a long long time. Jeff loves this album so much he almost started a record label just to put it out! The local trio of Satomi Matsuzaki, John Dieterich and Greg Saunier are old school; you can hear in their music the lessons they learned from vintage Bay Area weirdos like Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 and Caroliner, and from the famously avant garde Mills College music program -- all of which have resulted in a great, eccentric band whose aesthetic is fully formed, mature and confident. Satomi's light, singsong vocal delivery (similar to Boredoms' Yoshimi, Blonde Redhead, Yoko Ono) careens from stereo left to stereo right, a dose of melody and almost j-pop sweetness that plays perfectly against the macabre repeating guitar lines and the great, unpredictable, muscular drumming. Sudden stops and starts punctuate eight minute songs against one minute collages of noisy audio squiggles. Much like the Thinking Fellers did, Deerhoof juxtaposes melodic passages against weighty, distorted guitar a la Sonic Youth; they rarely descend to all-too-easy verse/chorus/verse trad songwriting, yet amazingly enough the album is quite accessible. Experimental music that everyone can enjoy. Wonderful. This record is perfection.

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First single from the beloved SF trio, back when they were a quartet, and before their new guitarist, who now plays bass... Heavy art sludge that retains elements of their Nitre Pit roots. The left and right channels are separate songs that can be listened to separately or combined. Plus, there's amazing etched art that covers the entire record -- you can even see it across the grooves,

The incredible DJ Scud (aka Toby Reynolds, Bloodclaat Gangsta Youth, head honcho of Ambush Records) steps into the ring to take on the Rich Kid (aka Kate Mosh, M2, Bad Street Boy, best known as German dancefloor militiamensch PANACEA). Murder Sound sees these

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PHTHALO 12. Oh wow. I have no idea what/who this is, nor do I care. Neither do I care that this was pressed as a cd-r. Dntel has made one of the catchiest IDM-based electronica records in the last long while, bringing pop hooks full of tinkling little melodies to the digital swoop and skitter of deconstructed Amen breaks, spasmodic algorithms, and powerbooking electrocrunch. Fans of Lesser, Reload (remember them?), and Aphex Twin shouldn't pass this up. I'm serious.

Los Angeles-based Jimmy Tamborello, veteran of the SoCal emo/indie rock scene (remember Strictly Ballroom? Further? The Tyde?) and current member of electro pop outfit Figurine returns after a lengthy absence with another solo record as Dntel. After two

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Dntel's "Something Always Goes Wrong" had a noble beginning back in 1994 when it was slated to be released on some Japanese boutique techno label as a concept record about "our hero and his arduous journey." (?) The presence of swords, damsels, and an evil king keep this concept album outside of the realm of Sci-Fi -- the genre of choice for techno boffins doing concept albums. This is a blantantly romantic piece of electronic abstraction which nuzzles itself right in between early '90s legends of electronica in Reload, Biosphere, and chill-out king, The Orb. The outsider electronica label Phthalo resurrected this album and added two remixes (from Seq and Languis respectively) and two new tracks. Fans of Boards of Canada who haven't heard much of Reload or Biosphere should certainly check Dntel out. Easily the most accessible record to emerge from the damaged minds of Phthalo!

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A miasma is defined as a heavy, vaporous emanation or atmosphere, also used to describe a corrupting influence (thank you, dictionary dot com!). So obviously, Chicagoan Kevin Drumm has been hanging around miscreants Peter Rehberg and Masami Akita and has decided to drop a nasty, pungent aural fart on all of us. Normally, guitarist Drumm crafts near inaudible soundscapes which leave much to be imagined. But "Sheer Hellish Miasma", his first recording for the stalwart experimental electronic jetset label Mego, is just FUCKING LOUD!!!! As to be expected from Mego, there's an abundance of clicks and whirrs, digital chirps and skitters, but I repeat, it is FUCKING LOUD!!!! (!) This'll probably be up for Prix Ars Electronica against Whitehouse. Or not. Who knows what those Ars Electronica people are thinking? The closing "Cloudy", in contrast, builds a simplistic, yet wonderful shimmering drone that ends the disc quite gorgeously. Well done. A necessity for all you pure noise freaks out there. Epic and apocalyptic, much like the work of Zbigniew Karkowski, Boyd Rice as NON, the overdriven sonic capacities of Whitehouse or the more hellish punishments of Merzbow (it's a bit like "Hard Lovin' Man" in its trance-inducing aspects).

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New York is home to Jeremy Novak and his mad sampledelic science fair project Dymaxion, whose stripped down collages resemble something like Peter Thomas redux by The Hanatarash by way of sampled and looped sound effects lp's on an old Califone. Or maybe a lo-fi Tipsy bearing a more sinister edge with emphasis on groove and fucked-up sounds. This disc (previously released -- and

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You can read more of our gushing about Earth elsewhere in the list, but needless to say, we LOVE Earth. And if you have no Earth records, we recommend you start with the godlike Earth 2, an epic three track monster of tarpit riffs and slow moving rumbles. But

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The second solo recording from the former Autopoeses member, in which Ehlers samples fragments of Albert Ayler. However, it is debatable as to how much Ayler is actually present on this recording, musically. Consisting entirely of digitally altered cello recordings, these two sidelong pieces gently swell, teeter and expand, forming beautiful, haunting drones that lie beneath digital

Yet another volume in the slew of vinyl only releases by German electronic artist Ekkehard Ehlers (Autopoieses, Auch) in tribute to various artists musical and otherwise. "Plays Cornelius Cardew" is two brief sides of lovely layered soundscapes as only Ehlers can conjure. Sampled sounds are seamlessly woven into dense, textural tone poems highly reminiscent of Wolfgang Voigt, most

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. Four new scorching tracks by the Wolfgang Voigt of France, Fred Bigot aka Electronicat. More of the addictive filthy analogue nastiness -- the soundtrack to your after hours drunken stupor -- from the latest remix darling of Depeche Mode. Nasty and pungent -- like good cheese, er, like French music should be.

On his fourth long player, Frenchman Fred Bigot has refined his unique style of psychedelic electropunk to excess. Gnarly analog synths rigged with loads of distortion are coupled with hard-as-fuck 808 shuffle rhythms and ripples of wah wah guitar. Imagine

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SORRY. Second disc from France's analogue dancefloor thump maniac Fred Bigot. T-Rex is resurrected in a haze of rumbling analogue synths and smooth shuffle rhythms. Featuring the Kompakt approved "Shuffle Time".

THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.

SORRY. First record from sexy electro Frenchman Fred Bigot aka Electronicat. Like someone raided Panasonic's studios and crafted a big batch of fucked up booty tracks.

From a little village called Ciocarlia, located in Eastern Romania, near the Moldavian border, comes this eleven-man brass and woodwind band of gypsies. Combining elements of traditional Romanian, Turkish and Gypsy music as well as Klezmer, this former

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Bay Area supergroup comprised of Mike Patton (Mr Bungle, Faith No More), Dave Lombardo (Slayer), Buzz Osbourne (Melvins), and Trevor Dunn (Mr Bungle, various avant jazz outfits). On this, their second album, they pay tribute to the film scores they've long While the band manages to leave some of the flavor of each original piece intact, their objective seems to have been to sort of Bungle-ize each track (you know, lots of Patton screaming, overwhelming drama and sinister atmospheres), although a nod should definitely go to Lombardo, who uses lots of flavorful percussison -- woodblocks, chimes, bells, clicks, clocks and clacks -- that enhances the "period" tone of several of the pieces. It's a fine record (heck, it's the only worthy Morricone cover I've ever heard), just be aware that in order to get *into* this record, it's more important that you're into the signature Patton/Bungle manic sound than being familiar with the films or the soundtracks themselves.

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The furious fivesome from Coalinga are finally back, dispelling rumors of suicide pacts or abductions, with nine tracks of venomous (not to mention completely retarded) death metal. For those familiar or unfamiliar with their past work, Chiropractic

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Experimental electronica (particularly the glitch techno and collage work on the Mille Plateaux label) is getting dangerously close to self parody, with the definitions of very specific electronic music forming ever increasing legions of devoted followers Fennesz' third album -- the aptly titled "Endless Summer" -- picks up where his ep of Rolling Stones / Beach Boys covers left off with a digital dispersion of "fun in the sun" rock mythologies. While there are no obviously discernable pop culture references, Fennesz builds a sound that really is quite summery from odd duets between disintegrating acoustic guitar strums and the coalescence of digital errata. Thus, this album has the feeling of the classic Beach Boys sound, but very little of that structure. These are NOT Beach Boys covers; but if he said they were, we'd have no basis to call him a liar. Regardless, Fennesz's "Endless Summer" is just fucking great.

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Originally released in 1997, now finally available again, the debut full length from Viennese experimentalist guitarist Christian Fennesz. Long before the fuzzed out blurry sounds of folks like Tim Hecker and other DIY dronesters were everywhere, and the technology for processing sound was super readily available, Fennesz was a laptop alchemist, a guitar deconstructionist, transforming his axe into a strange sound making device, capable or producing the most gorgeous and alien of sounds. Hotel Parallel is a lot different than later Fennesz releases. Where those were soft focus and sun baked, glistening and shimmering, Hotel Parallel is much darker, more abrasive, harder edged, the sounds much more intense and brutal, but without losing any of their beautiful mystery.� Listening to this again now, it's kind of mind blowing to believe the sounds here are all guitar. From dense swirls of speaker clogging hiss, to glimmering Niblockian stretches of static high end blur, to tangled swirls of glitch and swoop, backwards fffffft and gnarled melody, to grinding low end chunks of sound, angular and abrasive, to barely there billows of whispery low end, streaked with muted melody, to epic My Bloody Valentine like cacophonies of distorted pop ambient almost house music to super minimal Chain Reaction throb and pulse. Some of these tracks sound like the recent Field record, or some of the more abstract Kompakt stuff, but this was 10 YEARS AGO! AND IS ALL GUITAR! How the fuck do all of these sounds come out of a guitar? Who the hell cares? An absolutely gorgeous breathtaking epochal work of guitar experimentation, that few have rivaled in the decade since... This reissue is super swank, six panel digipak, printed in green on white with subtle spot varnish, it includes some extra stuff too, a bonus track from a long out of print 7" (limited to 100 copies) from 1996, a super beautiful droney blurry murkscape, and an absolutely breathtaking video, perfectly reflecting the sound of Fennesz visually, all glitchy and grainy and so gorgeous...

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This is the second full length release by this amazing trio which features a member of Dntel. Some of the sweetest electronic dance melodies are found right here on 'The Heartfelt'. Imagine the Pastels, Aphex Twin, New Order and Future Bible Heroes (the

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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

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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).

MPEG stream: Race For The Prize
MPEG stream: Waitin' For Superman

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]

MPEG stream: Satori Part II
MPEG stream: Satori Part III

The umpteenth (tenth, actually) long player from Weasel Walter's constantly mutating free jazz / black metal / no wave / prog monster. "Infection And Decline" is the first recording to document the latest incarnation of the now-stripped down trio featuring

RealAudio clip: De Futura
RealAudio clip: The Elimination Of Incompetence

Two new studio albums from black-clad guitar maestro Keiji Haino and band. Both are excellent, edge-of-the-void psych-noise documents in keeping with the Fushitsha legend, recorded in England.

At last, the long out-of-print-on-vinyl debut double live set by Keiji Haino's Fushitsusha is now available on cd! If you've already got the essential Live II, you'll no doubt be drooling for this, & you'll know what to expect: beautiful black-on-black paper packaging; wild, dark music that takes improv psych guitar to the outer limits...

This, the first compact disc documentation of Japanese dark psych guitarist Keiji Haino's incredible out-rock combo Fushitsusha, is nothing short of essential. Highest recommendation.