- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Ultra-modern computer music duo Second Woman offer a preview of their forthcoming Spectrum Spools opus, S/W, with an exclusive EP taking cues from the furthest fringes of digital dub and experimental software composition. “I E/P” and “II E/P” utilize percussive stutter, micro-processed echo, and negative space to explore the limits of rhythmic abstraction, blurring the boundary between human artistry and artificial intelligence. A pair of remixes by Grecian dub-techno progenitor Fluxion and Midwest avant-footwork producer Jlin round out the collection, innovatively mining the source material for vivid rhythmic contours.
More information can be found here.
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
I am not fond of tossing the term "weird" out to describe music. Not only is it a vague and somewhat stigmatizing label, I do not consider a lot of what I hear to fit that term. I mean, I have albums of car crashes (GX Jupitter-Larsen), noise made by a ballerina’s performance (The Rita), and on stage improvised masturbation (The Gerogerigegege). However, Carp’s Head is hard to describe in any other way. With painfully guttural vocals by Ghédalia Tazartès, percussion by Andrzej Załęsku, and everything else by Paweł Romańczuk, it is like an Eastern European folk album vomited on an electro-acoustic work and the two were just mashed together with purely malicious intent.
The beginning of "Danse Inverse" is somehow one of the more cohesive works.A pulsing bit of electronics at first; it suddenly becomes a mutant synth take on folk music, with the guttural vocals channeling darkness not unlike a black metal album.Later, on "Dobra Nasza," an expansive opening of improvised, shimmering electronics and inhuman vocalizations eventually give way to a jazz-heavy rhythm section and almost conventional rock music vocals (structurally at least, the voice itself is still quite inhuman).
Even with its rhythmic opening and occasional plucked string, "The Far Horizon" is overall dissonant and unpleasant, with a lot of menace in its occasionally open spaces.The drums on "Wild East Blues" may be an almost conventional reference point, but the slow shuffle tempo and terrifying vocals are anything but normal, and even the accordion thrown into the mix takes on a dark hue.Later, on the somewhat peaceful "The End of Western World," the nearly operatic vocal style casts a menacing shadow onto the piece’s bowed strings and chiming percussion, which, on their own would have an almost classical sound.
Perhaps the most unsettling moments are courtesy of the two part "Wolves and Birds" (the second piece is not on the vinyl album but on the companion CD version of the album).The title is rather descriptive, with the first part being field recordings of birds chirping in the distance.However, the hollow drone and far off vocalizations (the wolves part, I assume) give the ambience of an oppressive jungle at night.Things can be heard, not really identifiable and not at all human sounding, but just far enough away to build tension rather than having the trio opt for horror movie scares.The second part is more field recording collage based, with only a bit of cymbal sounding musical, and has the same sense of the oppressive unknown throughout.
The adorable kitten that features on the cover of Carp's Head could not be less of an accurate representation of what is included.This is one of those records where the weirdness comes across not as a contrived attempt to be bizarre or unique, but gives the record a genuinely unsettling quality.Even without Tazartès’ intentionally unpleasant vocals, the sound would be uncomfortable, but the voice just pushes it even further.But I am always an advocate that art does not have to be pleasant to be enjoyable, and this is definitely one of those cases.It is not the type of music I would put on often, but when I am in the mood to be challenged and a bit unsettled, this is one I will reach for.
samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Grand Line, Nakama’s last release and the project’s second overall, was a sometimes-chaotic mass of free jazz improvisations held together by a structured sense of composition that seemed to be at odds with the music itself. Most Intimate has a similarly focused conceptual foundation, but rather than the grand gestures of the last album, here they are much more personal, with the quartet members each writing parts for one another to play. The concept is admittedly complex and convoluted, but in execution it works in more ways than just being a novelty.
Most Intimate is made up of a series of "Dedications," "Gratitudes," and "Unifications."The dedication pieces involved one member of the quartet writing a piece in honor of another member, with the caveat that the performer receiving the dedication did not perform.The subsequent gratitude piece is that recipient playing a solo performance in response.Finally, the unification is a performance by the full quartet, but with the person giving the dedication and the person receiving swapping instruments.This is bookended by two full band pieces, and an improvisation in the middle where the members play the instrument they did not in one of the previous arrangements.
Yes, it is complex enough that a diagram or a flow chart could have been provided to specify all of these varying arrangements, but it really is unnecessary to appreciate the album.Unsurprisingly the opening and closing pieces ("Intimate" and "Most Intimate", respectively) are the most traditionally composed and rich sounding, with not only all performers involved, but also playing their preferred instruments (as duos).For "Intimate" a slow, intentionally repetitive passage of Christian Meaas Svendsen's bass and Adrian L√∏seth Waade's violin as first establishing a rhythm, with Ayumi Tanaka's piano adding a delicate counterpart.Percussionist Andreas Wildhagen's contribution is a sparse, but effective passage of cymbal playing.Concluding "Most Intimate" is less of an insistent rhythm and more of an expansive piece of music.Driven by piano and violin, with the bass and percussion being more of an accent, there is a gentle peacefulness to the piece that is subtle and light without being insubstantial.
The first "Dedication" piece, omitting percussion, is also an extremely graceful sounding work, one that at times drifts precariously close to an easy listening jazz sound, but never crosses that line.The following "Gratitude" piece is therefore a performance for solo drums and has Wildhagen doing a lot with just a standard kit.With the toms played lightly enough to have a resonating melodic quality to them, there is significant depth to the solo, and the exceptionally high quality recording really helps magnify these subtleties.The short "Unification" that follows has a higher tempo and a looser, more urgent improvised sound that at times drifts nicely into more abrasive territory.
The rest of the album follows this model, with the violin-less "Dedication II" taking on percussive throb that makes it stand out, both from rattling snare drums and more aggressive piano with a more aggressive sound.It is followed by the violin solo "Gratitude II" featuring L√∏seth Waade's instrument played in mostly unconventional ways, such as sharp string bowing or muted plucks."Gratitude III" omits the piano and in turn becomes a less melodic, slowly building rhythmic piece, and Meaas Svendsen's subtle vibrations of "Gratitude IV" compliments the spacious and delicate preceding "Dedication IV" very well.
Nakama is all about conceptual complexity, and Most Intimate is no different.However, it is not necessary to fully appreciate the album.My first listen was actually without any knowledge of the underlying theory and structure used, and I found it enjoyable just on that superficial level.The varying arrangements make for a diverse sound, mostly following a pattern of a more open sounding piece, then a solo, then a full band improvisation that has a distinct rawness to it likely magnified by the fact that half of the band are not on their primary instruments.With that alone it is a wonderful album of pieces of varying complexity, and the knowledge of how it was conceived is just an extra dimension to appreciate.
samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
I can think of few bands that are as cheerfully single-minded in their aesthetic vision as Esplendor Geométrico.  In fact, I suspect I could have written a remarkably accurate (if vague) review of Fluida Mekaniko without ever having heard it: lots of visceral and hypnotic percussion loops, no melodic hooks at all, plenty of low-level radio wave and static chaos, and some occasional tuneless and rambling vocals from Saverio Evangelista.  Done.  Predictably, Fluida Mekaniko DOES provide all of that, but I keep buying Esplendor Geométrico albums because they also tend to feature at least one or two absolutely mesmerizing pieces where everything comes together perfectly and Arturo Lanz seems like a goddamn genius. Fluida Mekaniko continues that tradition beautifully and even finds room to let in a bit more light and nuance than usual.  As a result, it is probably one of EG's strongest and most listenable albums yet.
The opening "Sindroma" is textbook prime Esplendor Geométrico, instantly launching into an obsessive and infectious rhythm that lies somewhere pummeling industrial repetition and shuffling Latin sensuousness.  As with just about all EG pieces, the groove is absolutely everything.  There is certainly plenty of activity in the periphery (washes of white noise and burbling electronics), but it is mostly there to add density and enough textural variation to keep the propulsive and relentless rhythm dynamically compelling.  It is a well-used and very simple formula, but it works extremely well here.
"Sindroma" is also one of the rare pieces on Fluida Mekaniko to prominently feature vocals.  Describing Evangelista’s vocals as "spoken" or "shouted" does not quite hit the mark, as they have a distracted-sounding and somewhat arbitrary element that makes me feel like I am overhearing half of a cell phone argument in Spanish.  Curiously, that does not detract from the piece at all, as–again–the groove is absolutely everything.  The vocals are just one more thing that happens to be occurring.  As much as I like "Sindroma," however, it is "Kooperativo Centrifugilo" that is the absolute zenith of the album, resembling an unstoppable juggernaut of a mechanized Latin dance party bulldozing through a protest rally: no frills, just pure hypnotic and all-consuming rhythm.  Elsewhere, "Todavia Mas" is an arguable dark horse contender for the album's centerpiece: though it boasts a fairly standard-issue EG groove, the surrounding music is surprisingly harrowing and ambitious, resembling a pitch-shifted fascist rally being dive-bombed by menacing swoops of swirling and flanging electronics.  The deep, lurching, relentlessly forward-moving shuffle of "Objektiva" is also quite absorbing, even going so far as to break with tradition by attempting a sort of stuttering left-field hook.
Within the extremely narrow confines of the EG sound, however, Evangelista and Arturo Sanz do sometimes find room to experiment a bit.  For example, "Tempa Akso" keeps the percussion at a bubbling background simmer for a bizarre soundscape of gurgling and gargling vocals that sounds like an infernal choir of cicadas or crickets.  It is probably not one of the album's best pieces, but it is an interesting and unexpected detour nonetheless.  A bit closer to my expectations is "Tenante La Ritmon," which intriguingly deconstructs EG's penchant for crushing rhythms into little more than a rolling bass rumble that sounds like a contact mic at the base of a mountain as a distant avalanche approaches.  My favorite (and the most endearing) of the anomalies, however, is definitely "Eterno Della Vita," which (unintentionally?) boasts a repeating loop that makes me think that Lanz and Evangelista are about to grab their surfboards and hit the beach.  Second prize probably goes to "Mosselprom," which sounds like the bizarre middle ground where Middle Eastern rave, mass demonstrations, and "hip" action movie soundtracks all improbably come together (picture Jason Statham suavely administering choreographed beatings to everyone who stands in his way at a crowded and churning rooftop party in Abu Dhabi).
Naturally, the issues with Fluida Mekaniko are the same ones that have followed Esplendor Geométrico for most of their career:  there is an obvious formula, these pieces are all just rhythmic vamps rather than evolving songs, and melodies or strong hooks are in short supply.  To their credit, however, Lanz and Evangelista do not make any attempt to conceal those issues or change at all.  Rather, they make a perverse virtue of them.  I am especially fond of the way Evangelista continually subverts the normal expectations for a vocalist, seemingly viewing himself as someone who merely provides the ambient sounds of a typical day at the giant crushing beat factory. Viewing Esplendor Geométrico as a factory makes perfect sense, actually: they single-mindedly produce one thing and one thing only (viscerally heavy and obsessively repeating rhythms) better than anyone else around, so there is no urgent need to expand their available services anytime soon.  That said, EG definitely tweaked operations in a significant way this time around, most likely as a result of their recent touring.  For example, this album is lot less brooding and 'industrial' than its predecessor (Ultraphoon). Also, Lanz and Evangelista seem to have unexpectedly cultivated a lighter touch with their samples–there is still plenty of noise and entropy, but some more poignant snatches of melody and dialogue now manage to sometimes bubble their way up to the surface or peak through the mechanized display of force.  Rhythm and power are still king though.  Characteristically, it is the more vibrant "global" dance rhythms that work the best and there are only a handful of such pieces, but Fluida Mekaniko's other fare is unexpectedly strong and varied enough to keep the momentum going for the entire album.
Samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
It occurred to me the other day that there was an incredible wave of great, experimentally minded solo guitarists several years back (Area C, Black Eagle Child, Talvihorros) that has either gone completely silent or moved into very different territory and that no one has quite risen up to replace them.  Thankfully, however, the wildly prolific Justin Wright has not gone anywhere and continues to be a tireless torchbearer, both through his Sonic Meditations label and his own Expo Seventy project.  Given the sheer volume of Expo Seventy releases, I tend to only check in on the major ones and this one fits the bill: recorded as part of a three-week art event in Kansas City (America: Here and Now), Wright was able to assemble a like-minded quartet featuring two drummers to back his slow-burning psych-rock pyrotechnics.  At its best, the results are surprisingly accessible and anthemic, like a time-stretched and deconstructed Black Sabbath jam experienced through a heady fog of drugs.
These sessions were originally intended as part of a larger and more ambitious project, as Kansas City musician Ashley Miller hoped to record multiple bands for a planned compilation.  Unfortunately, the necessary funding for that endeavor did not materialize, but Expo Seventy managed to record before it dissolved.  Aside from Wright and Expo Seventy bassist Aaron Osborne, the line-up for this album is expanded with a couple of recurring Sonic Meditations artists from Sounding the Deep and Shroud of Winter (David Williams and Mike Vera).  Interestingly, I would have expected Wright to immediately exploit the vibrant polyrhythmic possibilities of a two-drummer band, but the first half of the album goes in a considerably more restrained (but no less effective) direction.  There is admittedly a bit more cymbal and tom activity than a lone drummer could deliver, but the rhythm section primarily just focuses on providing a slow, heavy, and viscerally deep groove to ground Wright’s smoldering, drone-damaged shredding.  Eventually, the drums in "First Movement" snowball into something a bit more rolling and propulsive, but Williams and Vera generally just hang back in the pocket to make room for Wright’s blurred and lysergic strain of rock guitar heroics.  The drums do get a bit wilder in the more drone-based "Second Movement" though, gradually building into a roiling eruption of tribal toms and splashes of cymbals.  At one point, the percussion even reaches an apocalyptic and punky crescendo, but it quickly simmers back down into a throbbing avant-blues pulse.
While I am definitely drawn to well-done guitar drone like the proverbial doomed moth, it is the more conventionally "rock" piece ("First Movement") that strikes me as most essential here.  There are obviously plenty of great psych-rock and stoner-metal bands out there, but I have not heard any that sound quite like prime Expo Seventy.  Whereas other bands are sludgy, indulgent, wildly explosive, or prone to improv-heavy freak-outs, "First Movement" embodies trance-like repetition, simplicity, and simmering restraint.  All of that is appealing enough on its own, but Wright also has a real talent for anthemic riffage, casually tossing off bitchin' hooks, moaning string-bends, and dual-guitar harmonies in a haze of delay and just letting them dissipate as he coolly moves onto his next idea.  Of course, Wright gets a hell of lot of help from the rest of the band, as his layered haze of druggy riffs would not be nearly as compelling without the density and momentum of the underlying groove.  While it is probably just as good, "Second Movement" is considerably less distinctive as an artistic vision, as Wright initially focuses his attention on a simple, gently throbbing synth drone.  It is damn hard to sound unique as a minimalist armed with a synthesizer.  If the piece continued exclusively in that vein, it would be little more than a competent retro/kosmiche pastiche, but it ultimately becomes a showcase for some wild dual-drummer pyrotechnics.  Thankfully, Wright does not completely fade into the background, as he colors the percussion explosion with some chirping synth flutters and some nicely roiling and groaning guitar noise. While it does not quite transcend feeling like a purely improvised jam session, the drumming is at least explosive enough to make it a compelling one.  Also, it may all just be an amusingly extended introduction to the throbbing and bluesy coda.  It is very hard to guess what was planned and what was not.
As I listened to America Here & Now Sessions for the first time, several successive thoughts flashed rapidly into my head.  The most immediate revelation was that "First Movement" was remarkably great, reminding me that I have been lax in my attention to Expo Seventy lately and have probably missed out on some similarly fine work.  Then I marveled at how cool and improbable it was that Wright was hard at work churning out experimental drone cassettes in Missouri instead of fronting a band like High on Fire.  It is all too easy to take an artist for granted when they have been around for a long time and seemingly have a new release every month.  Lastly, I reflected upon how wonderful it would be if Wright could actually keep a two-drummer band together long enough to write, rehearse, and record an absolutely killer studio album.  Sadly, I suspect Wright does not quite have a King Crimson-level budget, so there will probably not be any apocalyptic Mainliner-caliber opuses in his future.  I am certainly delighted that he got to record this though, as I like this direction quite a lot.
Samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Having been invited to perform at the Large Hadron Collider at CERN in Switzerland by one of the scientists, HNIA spent a year studying particle physics and then created Patterns of Light. The scientist, Dr. James Beacham, was asked to "fact-check for bad data, misquotes, dragons, pseudoscience and to make sure the witchcraft to physics ratio wouldn't be too embarrassing," he agreed and soon sent pages of notes, screenshots, event displays and also recommended books and videos.
Patterns of Light is the result of this exchange of information. The research focuses on dark matter, dark energy, the search for extra dimensions, mini-black holes and the machinery that collides particles at high speeds using thirteen teraelectronvolts but also studies the fundamental forces of nature as seen through the classic creation myths, the visionary theology of Hildegard Von Bingen, medieval manuscripts and cosmic maps, all in an effort to turn the physics back into poetry.
More information can be found here.
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1000942931/where-does-a-body-end-a-documentary-on-the-band-sw
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Silver/ Lead (pf24) - 31st March 2017
Playing Harp For The Fishes 3:44
Short Elevated Period 2:54
Diamonds In Cups 4:09
Forever & A Day 4:07
An Alibi 3:10
Sonic Lens 4:31
This Time 4:17
Brio 3:37
Sleep On The Wing 3:00
Silver/ Lead 2:40
Today pinkflag is launching Silver / Lead with lead track 'Short Elevated Period'. Streaming on NPR and of course our soundcloud. The album is also available for pre-order from today. This time we are releasing it in 3 physical formats, CD, Vinyl and Special Edition - a hard backed 80 page case bound book, with text by Graham Duff, extended credits, lyrics, brand new interviews and exclusive colour photographs as well as the CD itself. This format will be only produced in limited quantities but unlike The Change Becomes Us Special Edition with which it shares a format, it will be also available in selected independent record shops.
Here's the album press release.
Silver/Lead is the 15th studio album from musical pioneers Wire. It arrives on the 40th anniversary of their debut performance. Yet it’s about as far from nostalgia as you could get. This is the sound of a uniquely addictive 21st century psychedelic post-punk.
Colin Newman and Matt Simms’ guitar work is alternately jagged and luminous, while bassist Graham Lewis’s ear-catching lyrics are vivid yet oblique. Meanwhile, drummer Robert Grey provides a virtual masterclass in percussive minimalism. But it’s how the various instruments mesh together that really counts. And Newman’s production creates a sonic space in which even the smallest gesture is accorded some recognition.
Highlights include the optimistic dazzle of ‘Diamonds In Cups’, with its almost T. Rex-style buzz and chug, and the moody swing of ‘This Time’. Elsewhere on the musical spectrum, there’s the menacing widescreen grandeur of ‘Playing Harp for the Fishes’ and breakneck-paced guitar pop of ‘Short Elevated Period’.
Wire are one of the world’s most ground-breaking bands, their influence acknowledged by bands as diverse as Blur, Sonic Youth, R.E.M. and Savages. But they have never been interested in exploiting past glories. For Wire, there is only ever one possible direction: forwards. So it’s perhaps not surprising that over recent years, they’ve played strings of sold-out shows, achieved career-best record sales, and been cited as a strong influence by yet another generation of bands.
Wire’s last three albums garnered nothing but rave reviews. From 2013’s strangely beautiful Change Becomes Us (“It’s fantastic.” – Pitchfork) to the crackling motorik of 2015’s Wire (“It’s all really well turned, potent and crisp.” – The Guardian), and last year’s punchy mini-album Nocturnal Koreans (“It's a cracker and sounds defiantly modern.” – The Quietus). Consequently, although it may be being released on the band’s 40th anniversary, Silver/Lead is an album which has nothing to do with the past and everything to do with the future.
2017
Although it hasn't been the best kept secret, it may surprise some that Wire will release their 3rd album in as many years in 2017. In fact the last year Wire released a 3rd album in a 3rd successive year was 1979. Clearly something is going on! Now we can start to reveal that story. The release date of 31st March 2017 is neither arbitrary nor accidental. It is in fact the closest available release day to an important anniversary for Wire. It is not the anniversary of the first time a band called Wire existed or the anniversary of the release of Pink Flag, but it’s the anniversary of the 1st gig by Wire as a 4 piece – originally having been a 5 piece who mainly played material by it’s then leader George Gill. April Fool’s day 1977 was the first time a band that anyone familiar with Wire, even today, would recognise took to the stage. The event was even documented - HERE
So what does it mean to Wire to be 40 years old? To be honest, something & nothing at the same time. We could have even chosen to ignore it but in a way it’s more honest to embrace it, even if it’s already being tagged as “40 years of not looking back”. We will of course celebrate it by a new album and several DRILL : FESTIVALS (more news about those in a couple weeks) and there will also be touring. You will be well advised to keep an eye on your inbox, pinkflag.com and Wire’s Facebook & twitter.
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
I never know what to expect when putting on a new Ralf Wehowsky album. He has never let me down, but what form of strange electronics and unconventional compositional techniques he employs is always a mystery. Flurry of Delusion is then, fittingly, another extremely abstract and unpredictable work from the legendary member of P16.D4 that is as much random improvisation as it is rigidly structured composition. Maybe. Or maybe not. The confusion is intentional, by the way.
Black Rose/Dirter
The initial foundation of Flurry of Delusion is a fully improvised recording session Wehowsky had with fellow composer Giuseppe Ielasi in early 2010.However, in traditionally perverse RLW fashion, these recordings were then mangled and mutilated over the span of six years, with the liner notes proclaiming, "all parts relate to each other and nothing is what it seems to be."
Only sparse information is given as to what instruments were even used during the initial sessions, but occasionally they can be discerned.Near the beginning of "He Found Himself Facing His Painful Reality" (each of the eight song titles can be sequenced to create a different poem), it sounds like some passages of acoustic guitar slip out largely untreated, although still played in a rather unconventional manner.Clattering percussive moments and shimmering electronics swell up in a collage of improvised, although seemingly not truly random, sound.
Electronics (or natural sounds treated to sound like electronics) are the predominant feature on "Without Subterfuge or Cosmetic Disguise", a blend of loose, buzzing like glitches into bigger sweeping tones that trail off uncomfortably and then come back aggressively.That and the jerky stops lead to an almost unsettling unpredictability to the sound."Before" is similarly structurally and instrumentation wise, again a whirling mass of buzzing chaos and abrupt starting and stopping, although here Wehowsky adds in a nice metallic resonating drone.
At other points on Flurry of Delusion, the sounds that are almost detectable are less musical ones.Amidst the weird panning and machinery clatter of "Within An Unreliable Narration" there is the sound of what is likely an audio cable not plugged into any instrument, judging from the telltale buzzing hum.With a layer of clicking and popping, somehow these disparate passages come together in a way that makes sense, and also an excellent sense of space from a sound design standpoint.An opening solo that is likely a vibrating cell phone leads off "Let Him End Up" is treated just enough to have additional depth, and also becomes the most identifiable element in a mass of bizarre sounds.
The credits for Wehowsky and Ielasi's improvisations included guitar, harmophone, turntables, and percussion, but other than the guitar, RLW did an exemplary job at hiding the sources.Which, as someone who has been following his career for a while (including his P16.D4 days), comes as absolutely no surprise.Little on Flurry of Delusion makes sense, at least superficially, and instead it is an unrelenting rush of bent noises and vaguely familiar sounds, which is exactly what he does so well.As far as the ambiguity goes for the album’s concept, it did seem like the less I tried to make sense of things, the more it all came together as a cohesive work, as bizarre as it may be.
samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
After a lengthy dormancy, Andrea Chiaravalli reinstated his long standing harsh electronics project Iugula-Thor in 2012 and has been active ever since, releasing some of the strongest work of his career. This is the first full fledged release since then, with the prior ones being largely splits and singles, and also features Chiaravalli partnering with Paolo Bandera (Sshe Retina Stimulants, Sigillum S) to create a bleak, but multifaceted record of diverse electronics.
Iugula-Thor never fit in quite as specifically as many other Italian artists associated with the power electronics scene.Their work largely took on a grey aura simultaneously colored by Marizio Bianchi's depression and the violence of giallo films.It is a distinct and great style, but it is always great to hear an artist breaking away from what is expected. Iugula-Thor’s influence has drawn more heavily from the thrash and speed metal scenes, and while that may not be immediately apparent these days, I think that influence adds a lot to the duo’s unique sound.
Rhythms play a notable role in the sound of Choosing Your Own Brand of Evil."Unknown Third Party" is driven by a crashing loop and an insistent, throbbing bit of bass, as the two work a multitude of weird synth sounds in, at times twinkling and almost light, and other times dark and sinister.The overall effect is wonderfully schizophrenic.The terse "One Mind No Views" is a bit less subtle in rhythm:a big, rib cage pummeling kick drum that never subsides for the pieces' brief two minute duration, with other bits of trash percussion and simply oscillating noise synths stay prominent.
Even a more noise oriented composition, such as "n.a." has some semblance of rhythm with the crunchy static-laden loop that underscores it, but the tasteful applications of filtered noise and other bursts of static place it somewhere on the spectrum between avant garde experimentalism and outright noise brutality.There is a similarly tenuous balance to be found on "First Time My Wrists Opened", though the grinding electronics and sinister slowed voice passages nudge it a bit more in the death industrial direction.
The moments where the duo take a "throw everything together and see what happens" are the ones that stand out the most for me, however.For example:"I'm Not" is at first all noise loops, but with an almost toy-like synthesizer line.Voices appear here and there, and the whole song alternates from lighter bits of electronics into vaguely industrial stomping.The voices and what almost could be horn samples make for a confusing, scatter-shot quality in instrumentation but it all manages to work together.The album closer "Hammer" is also a bizarre mix of marching band like rhythms, largely clean synth sounds, and what could almost be a violin here and there.Compared to what preceded it, it is lighter and less oppressive, but still just the right amount of abrasive and weird.
For their first full album release in nearly two decades, Chiaravalli and Bandera have put together an excellent, fully realized album with Choosing Your Own Brand of Evil.The mood and style may not be a surprise, but the actual work from the two artists is a unique, idiosyncratic mass of collaged electronics and abrasive electronics that comes across as composed, rather than just improvised.The music itself is where the unpredictability lies, and that sense of the unknown is where it excels the most.
samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Few current artists are as consistent and reliably absorbing as William Basinski, as he has carved a wonderful career out of conjuring work of hypnotic beauty from simple, well-chosen snippets from his backlog of decaying tapes.  It is not nearly as simple a formula as it sounds, but Basinski always manages to make it look effortless anyway.  Recently, however, he seems to have become a bit restless with that aesthetic, as he transformed the more traditionally Basinski-esque The Cascade into The Deluge with the aid of some feedback loops of varying lengths.  A Shadow in Time is an even more radical leap forward, as the title piece feels like a pile-up of blurred tape loops woven into a vibrantly shifting composition.  The other piece, Basinski's gorgeous tribute to David Bowie, is admittedly a bit less adventurous in structure, but is not devoid of unexpected twists either.
The opening "A Shadow in Time" does not waste any time at all in establishing that Basinski has some new ideas to share, as the murkily pulsing synth drones are quickly embellished with a series of very composed-sounding swells of ghostly sounding feedback or harmonics.  Also, the underlying drones gradually accumulate additional layers, additional density, and some subtly dissonant and grinding metallic textures, so it is almost instantly impossible to tell how many loops are involved, how long they are, and how much of the piece is not culled from loops at all.  If Basinski played anything in real-time (and it seems he did), he certainly did an admirable job in making it sound every bit as gauzy and distressed as his old tapes.  Also of note: the piece feels quite a bit more amorphous than a lot of Basinski’s work, as there is no immediately graspable melody or satisfying chord progression amidst the swirling ocean of drones and tape hiss.  Normally, a conspicuous lack of structure or hooks would be a bad thing, but "Shadow" actually represents a bold step forward compositionally, as the harsher, grinding textures give the piece an ominous sense of menace to hold my attention while a dark and shifting undercurrent sneakily takes form.  As such, it is definitely not one of Basinski's more immediately gratifying pieces, but it gradually revealed itself to be quite subtle, heavy, and ingenious once I listened to it enough for everything to fully sink in.  While the comparatively placid fade-out perhaps overstays its welcome a bit, the best parts of "Shadow" feel like a sinister black cloud billowing up through a deceptively calm sea.
"For David Robert Jones" on the other hand, initially feels like business as usual, as a warm and dreamlike loop endlessly repeats with minimal embellishment.  In fact, it is not unlike the gorgeous melancholy of Basinski's classic 92982 album, resembling a blurred and gently hallucinatory choral mass.  That is probably the side of Basinski's artistry that I love the best, but "For David Robert Jones" unexpectedly develops into something a bit more than a heavenly, "locked groove" elegy, as something that sounds like a tape-distressed saxophone hook erupts from the bliss-fog about a third of the way through the piece.  The delayed introduction of a bold new motif is not a common Basinski trope at all, so it makes for a comparatively vibrant splash of color and nicely deepens the emotional richness of the piece.  While that turns out to be the final significant surprise that Basinski has up his sleeve for the album, he makes the interesting choice of juxtaposing the beginning of that hook with a repeating wrong-sounding note.  Weirdly, that one sour note is what elevates the piece into something truly special for me, as a slightly curdled version of lush melancholia is considerably more intriguing and mysterious than pure sonic heaven with no sharp edges to watch out for.
As an album, A Shadow in Time has a lot going for it and certainly claims a place among Basinski's stronger releases.  First and foremost, "For David Robert Jones" is easily one of the most beautiful pieces that he has ever recorded. The title piece is not quite on the same level, but it is no less significant.  While my deep appreciation for William Basinski's work is well-documented, it is not an unconditional love–he can only explore variations of familiar themes so many times before they start to yield diminishing returns for me (and presumably for him as well), so it is encouraging to see a promising step in a different direction.  I have no idea if "A Shadow in Time" represents the way forward for Basinski, but I am definitely eager to see where it leads.  In the meantime, it is refreshing to hear something outside the norm and an unexpected treat to see Basinski in more overt "composer" mode.  Given that his treasure trove of damaged tapes turned out to be such career-defining, once-in-a-lifetime lightning bolt of inspiration, it is far too easy to forget that Basinski is more than someone with limitless patience and a golden ear: he was a gifted musician and composer long before The Disintegration Loops changed everything for him and that person has not gone anywhere.
Samples:
 
 
Read More