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From what I can tell, Calla used to be a well respected band. Previous releases on Young God and Sub Rosa should be making me raise an eyebrow or two but Collisions has made me wary. What I can only presume is this album is the product of a band getting lazy and resting on its old credibility while watering down its music to appeal to the kind of people who think Coldplay are the most experimental band on earth.
Collisions is well executed but irredeemably unoriginal, I don’t know about the rest of the world but here in Dublin every “sensitive” rock band sounds like this. Granted most of them aren’t even half as talented as Calla but a lack of inspiration is a lack of inspiration no matter how good a musician you are. “So Far, So What” is typical of being well played but completely unmemorable. In fact listening to the record for what seems like the tenth time over the last few days I don’t actually remember hearing most of these songs before. The band seems to wake up towards the end of the album, after eight tracks of boredom there is all of a sudden a couple of tracks with backbone. “Testify” is about as good as it gets and for most of the song it is very good. The guitars are spiky, the drums are pounding and there’s some nice electric organ in the chorus. The vocals let it down, Valle sounds like he’s on a heavy dose of sedatives. “Swagger” continues the strong musical element, creating a powerful rhythm with guitars chugging and dancing all over the place. Valle still sounds doped to the eyes.
I can honestly say that apart from the couple of good tracks mentioned above, this CD will not be likely to be spun again under my roof.
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Die Stadt
The disc comes in an olive green die-cut sleeve with a kitty-shaped cutaway and the inner sleeve has photos of aged small town buildings set in a forested valley. Thus, the music seems to be an encomium of a particular "still valley," but certainly transferable to the many others that still pepper the world. There are three tracks, the original two from the LP being over nineteen minutes in length and the one in-between being about nine and a half minutes. All are of the same aesthetic as oscillating drones turn over ever so slowly and smoothly while indeterminable bits of sonic minutiae accentuate the movement.
While many Mirror albums fill a room with an aura just shy of nothingness, this one is a little more forward but still brimming with the same sort of space and analog warmth. Pure ambient field recordings might have been more evocative of a valley but these pieces are wholly beautiful in their own. There is a timelessness to this music that equals the stillness of the valley. Chalk and Heemann have all but mastered their art.
No word just yet as to what's next from Mirror, but Chalk has since released The River That Flows Into The Sands and Heemann has begun a new project with Timo Van Luijk called In Camera.
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With the electro revival in full swing at this time, thelabel seemed to ignore, eclipse, or simply swallow all else. With trends fully-waned last year, anever-stronger Bpitch honored its 100th release with a second pair ofdefining compilations, emphasizing both the range of artists “under theirtent,” and the continuing relevance of their effortless and unnamable groupaesthetic, from darkened, seductive portrait of Berlin to crystalline global popdone over with the sexy insurgence of punk or industrial ideologies.
BPC 101, the first Campingis a retrospective of classic Bpitch tracks from the beginning. Obviously, at 20 tracks, essentials get leftout (one of the most noteable being TokTok and Soffy O’s out-of-printmasterstroke, “Missy Queen’s Gonna Die”), but many of the best Bpitch artistsare well-represented by some of their best tracks, starting with Kiki’s “LovSikk,” a track representative in its beautiful complication of mood. To a thin, tin-canned bell pattern rhythm, aglossy, Night Rider throb rides thecartooned, chiming swells of a decadent house anthem. The plasticity of these melodic surface parts,in juxtaposition with the coolly dark momentum and stiff pan-ethnic attempts ofthe rhythm track, create tickling complexities that remain subtle andinviting. Nearly every track here begs asimilar analysis, connecting them with a pantheon of popular styles and anunbiased willingness to experiment with texture and association, all in a kindof understated support of collectivity and inspiration through contrast.
The only thing slightly aggravating about Camping is the exclusion of many fine orhard to find label tracks for a few newer or more mediocre ones. Several tracks (Tomas Andersson, Kiki, PaulKalkbrenner) get weighted down in a bottom-heavy, numb techno obsession,feeling particularly unrepresentative of the artists and shrinking the etherealqualities of some of the label’s more seminal tracks also included. The only complete dud, Housemeister’s “Do YouWanna Funk” inexcusably repeats a clip of Kid Rock’s Joe C engaged in banaltoasting that is so annoying I can hardly imagine its appeal even to Europeansless incensed by the Kid Rock phenomenon.
Camping 2 existsnot as an attempt to correct the small missteps or exclusions of itspredecessor; instead its an equally indispensable collection of newer,vinyl-only tracks from some of the most recent Bpitch platters, curated byEllen Allien. The label-founder hasalways included plenty of label tracks into her mixes, and it is an especiallynice follow-up to the first Camping’s‘greatest hits’ presentation to create a vision of the label’s diverse future.
The compilation touches extremes with several subdued b-sideremixes or left-field tracks from the likes of Mochipet, Modeselektor, andFeadz rich with elements of dubby glitch or IDM that have entered labelconsciousness more recently. Elsewhere,newer artists like Tomas Andersson and stalwarts like Paul Kalkbrenner throwdown some of the hardest, four-to-the-floor techno the label has seen,foreshadowing the sound of the more recent batch of 12” singles, dominated byAndersson’s daunting tracks which seem just as robotic and self-generating as theyare perfectly ecstatic, button-mashing rave-ups. Where this direction ended murky orbottom-heavy on the first Camping,here all is refined and sequenced nicely under Allien’s touch. It's especially nice to have rarer remixes,like Miss Kitten’s of Allien's “Alles Sehen” or Kiki's of “Your Body is MyBody,” on compact disc, as well as Allien's own highlights from so many greatBpitch records, hard to find or too numerous to collect.
Samples:
- Tomas Andersson - Happy Happy
- Mochipet - Beautiful Belonious Bits
- Kiki - Love Sikk
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Thrill Jockey
Gimmie Trouble starts off promisingly enough, the title trackstomps along to its retro sounding drum machine as the guitar andsampler jerk about around the simple beat. Kuperus’ vocals are asmelodramatic as ever. The album continues in the same style and as thealbum goes on I found that Kuperus’ voice started to wear thin. Hereccentric pronunciations and diction were quirky at first but aftermultiple listens of the album it lost its charm. What I can't fault heron is sounding distinctive and full of conviction, something which alot of vocalists lack.
New member Samuel Consiglio provides the guitar on Gimmie Trouble.He borrows heavily from players like Rowland S. Howard and Keith Levenewithout adding anything distinctive to his licks. In fact, the meolodyin the final track “Seal Me In” sounds like it was lifted directly from“Wild World” by The Birthday Party. The post-punk chic of the guitardoes however fit in with ADULT.'s aesthetic considering all the drummachines sound like they belong to the age where you were lucky to haveany more than 8 samples in a box the size of a laptop.
ADULT. for me work best in small doses. I would gladly play a track or two off Gimmie Troubleat a DJ gig, any of the songs on this disc would get a dance floormoving. However as an album the songs are too similar to each other andthis makes listening to the album in one sitting a tedious job. Aslight bit of variation would have made this a far better album.Perhaps I’m being too critical as there are some great songs on it like“Disappoint the Youth” and “Helen Bach,” which are both first ratetracks. Gimmie Trouble is no masterpiece but the few standout tracks are worth a listen and the entire album can be boogied to very easily.
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Up until this release I've never liked Aaron Dilloway's solo material. It's always seemed a little too keen in 'going for the all out 100% sick assault' as opposed to any gradients between that and anything less than pitch black. This release sees a ditching of density in favour of a little cheap subtlety putting it up there with the best of his work with Wolf Eyes, if not amongst the best of 2005's total Noise output.
Hanson Records
His relocation to Kirtipur, Nepal (where this was recorded) during his split / break from Wolf Eyes obviously has something to do with the sample sources but it'd be impossible to say what effect this had had on his actual sound. Dilloway himself claims the release is 'cruder than usual' and it may well be made with less sophistication in terms of instrumentation and sonic building blocks but the result is outstanding. Only closer "Rotting Nepal 8" comes within the range of straightforward hurricane in your ears as the rest of the tracks delve into shortwave radio manipulations and jolting incontinent electronics. Dilloway gets hands-on with the revving up the digital dirt bike of "Rotting Nepal 4" from a steadily pulsing collection of buzzes, squeaks and clicks that loosens into a screeching chugging whine.
There seems to be a lot more control on Rotting Nepal than I've noticed previously, with some 'almost' delicate balancing of shortwave signals that are kept on the very edge of freefall distortion. The trapped rodent scream and alien growl of "Rotting Nepal 6" come together like an ugly melody and settles into what could happily pass as a Daelek beat before its overcome by distortion. "Rotting Nepal 1" is the highlight here, mixing up chopped and reverberated Nepalese speech samples and splinters of native instrumentation between subtle sandblasts of static. The piece has a rough dubby production style of handmade echoes, clicks and distorts spiked with clicks of scrambled signal. Throughout the album there are rhythmic shreds of cloudy noise throughout the album that eventually explode from their controlling valves ending in messy static. Amidst the endless conveyor built of releases this is one solo Wolf Eyes release that's really worth scrabbling about for.
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Beta-Lactam Ring
Perekluchenie is also the most peculiar album I've heard from Waldron. Granted there are quite a few unreleased and limited edition albums floating around, but the unsettling artwork, the short play that constitutes the liner notes, the odd reference to water bears and their even stranger abilities, all coalesce into an experience that isn't unlike learning to listen for the first time. It is strange not because Waldron has upped the dada-like ante to unheard of proportions, but because the whole thing is approachable. Embedded in the deepest part of these subterranean moans and monstrous pulsations is the warm heart of a human being attempting to make some sense of history, choices, and the immortality of subjective existence. Sounds broad, maybe, and it may sound a little exaggerated, but there is no exaggeration in the depth of Waldron's considerations. Perekluchenie, if it is to be judged as music and as a statement, is clear and illuminating, full of thoughts to be chewed upon.
Part of my excitement is due, at least in part, to my background in philosophy. The liner notes, a strange play consisting of a mutated peasant and donkey-headed "dandy," detail ethical and moral considerations while outlining historical concerns and the differences between rational and compassionate choices. Between the dialogue exists a series of unbelievable events that the two actors seem intimately involved in. Their strangeness increases with each exchange until finally Waldron ends the entire scene in a bit of irony. All of this spirals into and congeals with his music. It's a dense work of vocal samples, unintelligible drones, manic guitars, and a multi-sectioned ode to a hypothetical creature that is quite real. The title track, perhaps the most removed from the rest of the album, but bearing its title, is nearly silent except for the inclusion of voices provided by Diana Rogerson, Django Stapleton, Windy Chien, and others. Its concentration on a surgically altered narrative acts as an introduction, despite its position as the second track on the album. The rest of the album seems to revolve around this piece's meditation on decay of all kinds.
As usual, Waldron's compositional style lends itself to organic comparisons and the album itself admits of many biological influences. The artwork depicts seed and pod-like creatures emerging from disfigured human and avian bodies. There is room for vaginal and phallic discussion, as well. The constantly twisting metamorphoses that constitute both "Wretched Density" and "Hypothetical Tardigrade Resurrection, Parts 4, 5, & 6" acknowledge and increase those influences to the point that it becomes necessary to regard Perekluchenie as a biological event in and of itself. That event, however, escapes classical definition and consideration, such that anyone unwilling to open themselves to the experience will simply exclaim that there's "nothing to it."
More than anything I am impressed by how focused of an album Waldron has released this time around. His music and strange approach to sound mutation has always attracted me and, in many ways, that is no different here. There are new approaches present that I had not heard before from Waldron, but it is the melding of artwork, the written word, and music that makes this release so enjoyable and engrossing. The presentation is exquisite and the execution is concise, despite being full of symbolic and literal discourse that is worth some time to think about. If, however, this all seems too much, too conceptual in its extension, then take some comfort in knowing that this record is as enjoyable as anything Irr. App. (Ext.) has released and that it can be enjoyed by itself, without the deep reflection that was put into making it.
samples:
- Perekluchenie: The Stairway to the Blue Light Subsides
- Wretched Density
- Hypothetical Tardigrade Resurrection, Parts 4, 5, & 6
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Rough Trade
Give Blood can certainly be misconstrued as just another entry into thecurrent crop of British bands mining the sights and sounds of 1980spost-punk and new wave, but there’s a certain genteelness that runsthroughout, a stumbling grace that saves it. “Heard About Your Band”and “I Can’t Stand to Stand Beside You” boil with sneers and barbedhooks. But while these and several other songs dutifully serve theirpurpose as the rockers on the albums, other songs are couched in theslouchy country that groups like Silver Jews have built their careerson. More remarkable is that Brakes are capable of being comfortable ineither guise. Witness their cover of Johnny Cash’s “Jackson,” which inthe hands of pent up vocalist Eamon Hamilton and guest star Liela Moss(of the Duke Spirit) becomes a nervy hoedown.
Meanwhile, “NY Pie” is awide-eyed country jaunt that manages to be charming without beingsickening. While the band does share a member with renowned Englishgroup British Sea Power, Brakes avoids that bands tendency forself-indulgence. Some of the songs here work better then others. Songslike “Cheney” and “Pick Up the Phone” seem like piss-takes if you askme, while genre exercise “All Night Disco Party” finds a lukewarmgroove before the band collectively realize it’s a joke.
For the mostpart though, this album finds a unique niche of hyper-activity and laidback. The album feels less like a record and more like a fun weekendproject. That being said, Brakes aren’t rewriting any rules here, buttheir tasteful and sprite rock will surely find some fans somewhere.
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Last Visible Dog
Taking sounds, samples and sections of instrumentation from differentinformal sessions and sources, choosing the most appropriate or each,and putting them together as a coherent whole is not as easy thing tomanage and often all that’s left is an obvious mishmash of elementsbetter left as individual tracks. With this piece, Rinaldi has createdan extended mood of recollections that flows between the precise(acoustic guitar, piano and violin) and the vague (drones, clicks andpeace) with an overall feeling of looseness and warmth. This abstractbed allows sections of sound to come and go in the mix like oncetangible thoughts.
It’s difficult to pinpoint Rinaldi’s exact technique because at timesit’s obvious that the music has moved somewhere else entirely and othertimes the transition is utterly seamless and it still sounds perfect;it never feels random or contrived though its obviously one of the twoat certain points. There are times when the parts flow into each otherbut more often than not there is silence and the sound of open airbetween them. It takes quite a bit of skill, nerve and sincerity tobegin an LP with the sound of birdsong, sunshine and laconic alfrescoplaying and even more to carry it off for over forty minutes.
There are peaks of beautiful loose strumming running over halfsung broken vocal lines and many unidentifiable sounds (the creaks,twitters and jangles) and even a distant, but very real, brieflyringing telephone. A plectrum scratches the notches on a guitars metalstrings as wooden floors creak under the weight of someone walking byand Birds fall silent as piano notes ring out and are given time tofade back into silence before ringing out again. Hoarse Frenzyis music and melody composed on an abstract canvas of breathing spaceand empty mornings and succeeds in making a collection of ephemeralsounds into a lasting work of real beauty.
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Divine Frequency
"Grief” sees Balance lending his voice to a stark, moody rendition of the William Hope Hodgson poem of the same name. The track originally appeared on Tactile’s album Borderlands.Hodgson’s poem sounds like something that Balance himself would write.It is heavy in symbolism and in ambience. John Everall’s musiccomplements both Balance’s voice and the text exceptionally well. Theshifting drones give the feeling of being in some strange borderland,whether it is between dimensions or between life and death I do notknow, it is both unsettling and comforting.
The other side of the single is Rosa Mundi’s interpretation of theChristmas song “The Snowman” which was originally released on The Final Solsticecompilation. Balance sings it in a much lower key compared to the morefamiliar version. Rose McDowall adds an ethereal echo to the words, hervoice is fragile and delicate next to Balance’s warm and sure tones.The song retains some of its seasonal spirit but much like “Grief” theimagery and music give a much more surreal interpretation. I imagineshimmering landscapes and Lovecraftian dream worlds more than men madeout of packed ice with carrots for noses.
It is nice to see such great and unfortunately hard to find musicgetting a reissue, especially when it’s been done so strikingly andwith obvious reverence for the material.
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Archenemy
After a few listens, though, The Texas Governor (aka Dave Goolkasian)emerges as a quirky and intriguing listen. Standout tracks for me arethe opener "Shortwave Radio," which features distorted vocals and ahell of a beat, and "Leave Your Life Behind You," which floats along ona stream of heavy bassline punctuated by minimal percussion. Fromdistortion and feedback to soft synths and slide guitar, there are alot of very different (but all loopy) things going on here, so much sothat it's almost hard to believe the peacefully tripping "The AmazingSleeping Alarm Clock," the nursery rhyme-evoking "Think About...," andthe frantic punk song "1234," are all on the same album, much less bythe same artist. But somehow all the quirkiness works without leavingthe album feeling uneven or jarring. It's also surprising to note thatGoolkasian has managed to fit 11 tracks into just over 30 minutes. Ican think of a lot worse ways to spend half an hour than listeningto this offbeat and entertaining release.
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