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With this split vinyl EP marking the final release of the late Hydra Head label, it almost seems fitting that it is the work of two artists who have embraced their own independence throughout their prolific careers. It also stands as a monument to change and evolution, with Justin Broadrick's re-embracing of his harsher past put alongside Dominick Fernow's recent surprising turn towards melody and ambience.
Admittedly, Broadrick's first release earlier this year as JK Flesh, Posthuman, did not sit too well with me.With its intentionally gritty bass lines and moderate rhythmic pacing, it felt too much like embracing the clichés of that artistic blight that is dubstep without any sort of concession for innovation. In this case it was especially problematic given how much of the genre's foundation can be traced back to Broadrick and Kevin Martin's late period collaboration as Techno Animal.
Thankfully, his three tracks here have strayed somewhat away from that template and into something a bit more unique.The clattering marching band drums underscoring the electronics of "Fear of Fear"exemplify this, and Broadrick's guttural vocals and jagged guitar are pushed high enough in the mix to offset the overdriven bass and lurching percussion.A hint of stuttering drum and bass loops towards the end trigger up some nostalgia for Godflesh’s underrated Us and Them album as well.
"Deceiver" features galloping drums and noisy loops that might make it a bit more distinguishable, but also a bit sparse and repetitive, though it nicely picks up in complexity in the closing minutes."Obedient Automaton," however, leans back to the Posthuman sound a bit too much, and while it demonstrates a lot of structural build and development, it does not come across as an overly original sound.
Fernow's turn toward melodicism and song like structures on last year's Bermuda Drain made for a controversial shift amongst noise fans, but I personally found it an unexpected and welcome development.His half of this album brings some of that melody back with less overt EBM leanings, but keeping his history of dissonance and aggression nearby.
"Chosen Books" keeps the downtempo, pseudo-goth synth lines from his recent works, but applies them more as atmospheres rather than any definable melody.Amidst this and cut-up voice samples, a thin layer of textural noise can be heard, eventually engulfing the entire track into a more noise-centric piece without ever becoming as abrasive as his earlier works.
While the previous piece was more focused on atmospheres, "Entering the Water" moulds distorted synth pulses into some sort of mangled beat; never comfortably settling in to any conventional structure, but combining rhythmic, cyclic loops together that slowly build in depth and complexity."I Understand You" closes as a combination of the two:a simple, echoed synth sequence conveys rhythm, while other electronics make for a dour, depressive atmosphere and an abrasive segment of dentist drill noise grinds away, making for an overall uglier, but not necessarily harsher conclusion.
I can recognize both of these artists as ones whose overall bodies of work compliment each other, but to me this is a somewhat odd pairing of their multitude of side-projects, given the more aggressive, beat oriented sound of JK Flesh and the currently atmospheric, almost cinematic Prurient works.JK Flesh/Vatican Shadow, Final/Prurient, or hell, even White Static Demon/Exploring Jezebel would have all been more thematically relevant pairings, but perhaps that was the idea all along.Worship is the Cleansing of the Imagination is a strong, though not exceptional set of tracks that may not rank amongst the top tier of either Broadrick or Fernow's sprawling discographies, but certainly does not serve to taint either one either.
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Twinsistermoon is the solo project of Natural Snow Buildings co-founder Mehdi Ameziane, and is subsequently the benefactor of the massive cult following that NSB has accrued since forming in 1997. With a string of limited releases on a variety of credible labels such as Blackest Rainbow and Digitalis, both Medhi and his counterpart Solange Gularte (who plays as Isengrind and did the full color original art for this Twinsistermoon release), have created an underground phenomenon that continues to craft some of the most forward thinking music in decades. Though impossible to categorize, Bogyrealm Vessels alternates between drone vignettes and Nico-esque psychedelic folk, whilst being threaded together by sci-fi motifs. The result is a landmark work from Twinsistermoon that is sure to be a contender for year-end lists.
More information here.
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Little Annie also known as Annie Anxiety, singer, writer, composer and against all odds, survivor, takes us on a crazy journey to Mexico to find something she lost in New York City - faith.
This is no trip to relax and find the missing 'peace', but a journey that would leave the healthiest person sinking into the golden beaches without a trace.
Paperback
110 pages text and b/w illustrations
Published by Exitstencil Press
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If he is known at all, Dave Soldier is known for a pair of reasonably high-profile conceptual conceits which got some press attention. The first was the Thai Elephant Orchestra, in which a group of actual elephants were trained and conducted to play gamelan-style percussion. It was a cute concept, and while the music itself was uninspiring, to the extent that it raised money or awareness for elephant conservation, I suppose it was a worthwhile idea. The second notable project was The People's Choice Music, which used the information from a survey of music likes and dislikes to arrive at two compositions: "The Most Wanted Song" and "The Most Unwanted Song." The most desirable song was a brief, catchy midtempo love song featuring piano and guitar, and the least desirable was a 25-minute opera-country-rap song with accordion and bagpipe. Again, a funny concept. I'm mentioning Soldier's past conceptual outings here in order to give some perspective on Soldier's oevre, because Da HipHop Raskalz is insipid, annoying and exploitative in a way that his previous projects only hinted at.
Part of the problem with the Outsider Music trend that has swept the indie scene over the past few years—promulgated by folks like Irwin Chusid and others—is that it often masks a sort of contempt for the naïve, deluded or mentally-challenged artists it claims to celebrate. For every Outsider musician who has passed into actual respectability, such as Jandek or Daniel Johnston, there are countless others whose sincere musical endeavors exist only to be enjoyed by jaded music snobs who claim that they appreciate the primitive qualities of the music, when in fact the real attraction is merely its novelty, or worse, the fact that it is a socially acceptable way to laugh at retards. Increasingly, the Outsider Music finding release seems to be exploitative in nature, constructed specifically in order to serve as fodder for the kind of people who appreciate Bum Fights videos. In the case of the hugely popular Langley Schools Music Project, at least the two LPs were sincerely undertaken efforts by a well-meaning music teacher, who did his best to get a group of untrained grade schoolers to perform serious versions of pop favorites.
The same can not be said for Da HipHop Raskalz, a cynical attempt to cash in on the Langley Schools' popularity, adding elements of race and poverty into the mix. Everyone loves those human interest stories on the news where a bunch of inner-city black kids, the kind who everyone assumes spend their time playing with dirty needles and discarded babies they find in the dumpster, get to go to the zoo or paint a big mural or something. Nobody ever asks what happens to these kids once they get thrown back into their presumably miserable lives, having served their purpose by contributing some ratings to the local news broadcast. This is the audio equivalent of one of those news stories, with the added pretension of Outsider Music. If there is anything that is funnier than a 350 lb. schizophrenic retard pushing the presets on a Casio keyboard and yelling about McDonald's, surely it's a bunch of inner-city kids whose minds can't understand the unintentional humor of lyrics such as: "T-rex is in the house/He's the king of the world/He's so bad, he eats his wife/He don't even care if his wife his cute."
Though the press material claims that the music collected on this CD "is often better made and nearly always fresher than that on the radio," the music here is about what is expected from a group of untrained 5-10 year olds. Most songs contain simple lyrics, silly sentiments, poor rhymes and a general lack of cohesive structure. If any of these kids were smart or talented enough to actually kick out some fresh rhymes or come up with interesting beats, Dave Soldier made sure to keep them off this record. Because there's nothing less funny than a kid who actually has musical talent, right? I mean, where's the fun in that? Soldier makes the outrageous claim that the instrumental and melodic lines here "seem inspired by everything from...Middle Eastern melodies to Sub-Saharan African tribal beats" (comparisons that seem vaguely exoticizing and racist in and of themselves), the music is in fact largely excruciating, canned-sounding beats and dull keyboard fills. There doesn't seem to be a toddler Timbaland among these kids, unfortunately.
At least Langley Schools was a project made 30 years ago, by people blissfully unaware that one day their music would be a highly salable commodity. When the nine-year-old Sheila Behman sang her haunting rendition of "Desperado," music fans took note because the girl actually had considerable vocal talent, not because of the "awww" factor, the novelty or because it was funny or embarassing. Da HipHop Raskalz doesn't work on this genuine level; it is a calculated and cynical attempt to create a ready-made collection of in-jokes for the WFMU crowd. Mike Lupica of WFMU has already declared "I Want Candy" by The Muffletoes to be "the greatest song of all time" (you can listen to the sample below and decide for yourself how hyperbolic this statement is). After listening to this in its entirety, I could only feel sorry for the kids involved. I hope they had fun recording these songs, and I really hope they never realize that they were tricked into turning themselves into a laughing stock for a bunch of jaded white record collectors.
samples:
- Chelsea & The Mighty Lions - T-Rex
- The Muffletoes - I Want Candy
- Franchize Children - Listen to the Children on the Radio
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"Goodbye To Old Friends" starts off like a Dear John letter meant for a lover, rapidly veering towards introspective self-degradation and depressive misery, Staples lowering himself to counting the beer bottles from the purposeless night before. As it progresses, however, the focus changes yet again, hinting at issues within the band that brought him to indie fame, and it becomes painfully clear that this is his universal kiss-off, an ode to everyone who matters and anyone who'll listen. Like a godless Nick Cave, Staples treads, guitar securely strapped to his back, through the murky swampwater of his emotions, attempting to press on with his life ("There Is A Path") or coming to terms with his teenaged mistakes ("Dance With An Old Man").
Unfortunately for him, Staples isn't the self-help book type, so this journey leads him not to redemption, but, rather, in hopeless circles. The most gut-wrenching point of this harrowing odyssey emerges on "One More Time", a ballad about that all too familiar scenario of getting back together, even just for one night. The chorus, appropriately delivered with female accompaniment, strips away the bullshit and touches on the common thread that holds together this fragile collection: loneliness. The concocted fantasy of abandoning a dissatisfying life, revealed on the album's powerful lead single "That Leaving Feeling", doesn't take into account just how helplessly dependent we all are on even the most unhealthy relationships we partake in. In the song's closing verse, Staples can't help but find an excuse to stay, citing loose ends and, absurdly, the weather, as if a sunnier day would somehow be more suitable for departure.
Though I'm hardly at the same point in my life that Staples is in his, I nonetheless find myself relating to his forlorn reminiscing and half-believed lamentations, a rarity in a genre where everyone wants to have something meaningful to sing about. Scores of songwriters pour their hearts out on record, lay it all on the table, and, honestly, I couldn't fucking care less. However, Leaving Songs combines genuine delivery and unpretentious lyrics that sting like bruises from a vaguely remembered barfight, making it one of the best albums I've heard all year.
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