Without doubt, this is the best rendition of Erik Satie’s marathon piano piece to surface. Performed last year in Brussels by Stephane Ginsburgh on Satie’s own piano, this is beautifully recorded extract from the mammoth work is breathtaking. Listening to this in the still of the night is anything but vexating. The calm, contemplative music brings about feelings of bliss and by the end of the recording it is difficult to be annoyed about anything.

Last year, the earliest known recording of the human voice was discovered to have been made in France in the mid-19th century. This limited edition is beautifully packaged but seems superfluous; the brief recording is not exactly catchy and is available easily across the net as it is. I can only assume that there are more recordings made in the same way and it would make more sense to package them up together. Yet evidently only this one recording is interesting enough to be singled out for release.

Om's first studio album with Grails' Emil Amos on the drum throne contains some of the most confident, ambitious, unexpected, and brilliant work in the bands' history. Exasperatingly, however, there is not very much of it.

Christopher Riggs can't keep still, but it is to our benefit that the seemingly ADD-riddled guitarist produces output that makes even the most ambitious musicians and labels blush. Riggs returns with Gold Danny, another venture into perverted guitar noise from the current Michigan resident and former Oberlin Conservatory student.

A big deal has been made in the underground music press about China’s new music. Comparisons with other geographically unified music scenes like New York’s No Wave movement echo throughout the web but as Sub Rosa’s recent overview of Chinese music has shown, the idea of a single scene (or even a geographical localisation of protagonists) is a false notion. This duo from Beijing sound nothing like any of their contemporaries and they sound little like their admitted influences. White impressed me greatly last year when I saw them live in London and now that their debut album is finally available, they have floored me yet again.

While Conference Live does not come near to representing the true live sound of Om (mainly due to the amplification limitations of any home stereo), it is a huge step up from the miserable-sounding Live at Jerusalem LP that emerged last year on Southern Lord. That recording’s muddy sound quality turned Al Cisneros’ and Chris Hakius’ thunderous roar into a tinny yawn. This time, the music is clearly defined and has buckets of body to it. Sound is not the only change, Emil Amos from Grails is now beating the skins instead of Hakius. It is a big change but Amos fills Hakius’ drum stool most capably.

Taking a moment out from Jackie O Motherfucker, Nick Bindeman’s schizophrenic assault on psychedelic pop has resulted in a filthy and ecstatic collection of songs that makes his usual band sound meek and girly by comparison. Throughout this limited edition cassette, Bindeman tries to merge as many different streams of rock and pop music together into one glorious, drugged mess.

Following his brilliant stoner rock by way of minimalist compositions album The Invisible Mountain, Horseback’s Jenks Miller has delivered another release of carefully calculated minimalism in the old school vein, but here with a bit more of a noise and shoegaze sense.

Both artists on this brief 7" are going in directions that are perhaps unexpected with their sound, and that’s for the best.  The Stillbirth track mixes elements of traditional noise and bits of music, while Prurient’s work is an electro-acoustic collage with some overt synth work that’s not far from something that’d be heard from his work in Cold Cave.

A new album from Lisa Germano is always a noteworthy event, as each of her periodic hiatuses has threatened to be a permanent one.  Magic Neighbor, Lisa's first new album in three years, shows that an evolution has been occurring during her recent silence: an unexpected amount of light is now filtering into her creaky, melancholy, and decayed little sonic snow globes.  This shift in direction, however, is still in a bit of an awkward stage.

The Tupac Shakur of dissonant Islamic dub, death hasn’t slowed down Bryn Jones, who has still been prolific for over a decade after he passed away.  The 11 tracks on this LP and 12" set are all from his most prolific period in 1997.  Unsurprisingly, this is Muslimgauze by the numbers that does nothing drastically different or innovative than the slew of other releases from the era, and thus is really only recommendable for hardcore zealots and the dabbler who hasn't picked up an album from Jones in awhile.

An appropriate coda for the URSK series on Utech, the slew of drone oriented releases from both established (Skullflower, Final) and the up and coming (Aluk Todolo, RST) ends with a new project featuring visual artist Steven Kasner (the SK of URSK) and collaborators including Yoshiko Ohara (Bloody Panda) clashes ethereal and oppressive dynamics to maximum effectiveness.

Kristin's principled self-emancipation from record labels seems to have had a noticeably invigorating effect on her work, as Speedbath features some of her strongest songs in recent memory. Notably, Hersh's newfound career optimism has not infected her songwriting one bit: these 12 songs brood and bristle with characteristic dark intensity (even more so than usual, actually).

In 2007, To Kill A Petty Bourgeoisie began their first album on Kranky with a shriek of piercing noise. The album that followed was layered with dirty rhythms and walls of sound that were as dense and deformed as they were pretty. On Marlone, Mark McGee and Jehna Wilhelm have opened up their sound and, as a result, crafted a spacious and sprawling album far more dynamic and layered than their debut.

Miss Autopsy shares a lot of common ground with early Mountain Goats, such as uncomfortably raw vocals and a tendency towards rather wordy narrative lyrics.  However, Steve Beyerink has something that John Darnielle does not: a singular propensity for squirm-inducingly soul-baring misanthropy and pessimism that precludes absolutely any possibility of widespread acceptance.  While certainly somewhat flawed, this album is not an easy one to forget.

While many artists use the sonic medium as a canvas to paint imaginary journeys conceptually through sound and instrumentation, this Australian duo takes the concept to a more literal point by utilizing recordings of actual events and elements referenced in the track titles in addition to traditional instrumentation. The result is a wonderfully dark, post-rock tinged trip that shows the 12k label is at the cusp of more than just laptop programming and art installation sounds.

With these two being recorded in 2008, it is not surprising that these two LPs from this solo project have a similar sound and vibe to them, though both do go in somewhat different directions, with Psychosis focusing on the droning slow space rock material, while Night Flights opens the sonic pallet up to include more than just guitar and bass, but primitive analog electronics as well.  They both definitely take minimalist droning guitar into a more astral plane than usual, however.

For its maiden release, the new Staalplaat sublabel Le Petit Mignon has issued this clear little 7" in gaudy, bright packaging with each of the artists tackling a side.  Between Chessex (Monno) abusing his saxophone and Riviere (Textile Orchestra) destroying an electrophone, the results is a precious few minutes of pure sonic destruction.

Given that this is a collaboration between a noise duo, a toy collector, and guy known for sometimes playing an electrified rake, it is not entirely surprising that this recording session is a bizarre Dadaist mess.  Nevertheless, I remain deeply confounded by it all and cannot begin to guess what exactly the participants were attempting to achieve or to what degree they may have succeeded.

In this, the third installment of the Songs trilogy, Matt Elliott continues to celebrate the values and world-views of working class peoples. If Drinking Songs was dedicated to the worlds favorite pastime, and Failing Songs was about the impossibility of hope when faced with the magnitude of the worlds ills, then Howling Songs is the cathartic venting of bottled up pain. Here Matt Elliott is found screaming into an unrelenting wind, and sounding better than ever before.