Astral Social Club, "Volume 6"

Neil Campbell’s sixth volume of his solo efforts away from Vibracathedral Orchestra’s more democratic accommodating approach is an outstanding collection of different musical pieces. Volume 6 is probably the best yet, running the musical gamut between experimental, melody, drone and fun. The only way I can think to recommend this series anymore would be for me to go around selling it door to door.

self-released

I expected some drones, I expected a bit of feedback and I even thought there might be a barrage of noise. I didn’t expect "Untitled 3" to offer up heaven spilling otherworldly outpost noise and an elongated ‘lone piper on hilltop’ melody rising from a cloud of urban fumes. The rest of this CD-R is equally arresting and combines handheld percussion with sleepy lasers ("Untitled 5"), freeze frame songs of praise ("Untitled 5"), and squirreling wah-wah piece with eight or so different elements competing for my attention ("Untitled 4").

He starts proceedings with a rough and scuffed frantic rhythm with an underlying bleepage 33rpm record played three times as fast. But beneath this cranked murmur is a softer undercarriage of sound that ripples relaxingly. Membership of the Astral Social Club has also made me accept some artist’s propensity to cut their work short in mid zone-out. The sudden edits peppered throughout this release seem to make sense here. These cuts seem more like parts of the song rather than editing or space decisions. "Untitled 8" goes the other way and fades up in a back to front fashion seemingly full of organic crackles and steaming whooshes sounding very much like a passing party craft of some sort.

Closing the release in an unexpected—but very enjoyable—way is a live blow-out feedback drone-punk version of The Temptations "Get Ready". The guitar line that’s blasted here on an endless repeat is trapped within a chunk of flinted amber while a good time wallow in noise swirls around it. This meeting creates a kind of motionless funk as parts of the mix are lifted, through accident or design, in and out of the aural light making this ‘almost’ cover ripe for a nasty DJ set.

 

 

• Untitled 3
• Untitled 8
• Untitled 10