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This recording is something of a rarity: the sound artist Yoshi Wada, ex of New York but now living and working out of San Francisco, very rarely commits his works onto any kind of commercial platform. The Appointed Cloud is a recording of a live performance from way back in 1987, of an installation created in the Great Hall of the New York Hall of Science. It displays all the hallmarks of Wada's abiding interest in accidental tonalities through the use of drones, a home-made 80-pipe organ, bagpipes, a siren, and percussion of various species.
There are two prime elements here to consider; the human and the electronic. The former is provided by Wada himself on bagpipes, with help from Bob Drombowski & Wayne Hankin (both also on bagpipes), and percussive contributions from Michael Pugliese. Set against that is the electronic in the shape of a computer program, created by David Rayna (and remember this was a time when the ubiquity of electronics in music was still in the future), whose aim is to automate the entire installation, effectively creating a background on which Wada and cohorts could paint their tonal colors and textures. For me, what is at the heart of this recording is that tension created by the coming together of chaos and order in unplanned harmony or otherwise; and what results are complex harmonic interplays between frequencies and sounds, and also between those two primary controlling elements.
Comprising of a single 60 minute track, which is at times quietly meditative, as I often find the nature of drone work to be, and at others searingly dissonant. This is by turns a reflection on the nature of harmony and at others a deconstruction of the same. Intervals of drone and sub-sonic tones work their way stealthily into the brain, giving rise to the illusion that they are a separate part altogether and have their origin elsewhere; these passages seem introspective and inward-looking, like gentle waves lapping the shoreline of some lonely beach somewhere. Once in a while however, a thunderous percussive tsunami breaks shatteringly upon those same sands, breaking apart the grains of sound and reforming them into new structures, and creating new textures. The chaotic ululation of the three bagpipes adds a repetitive fractal quality, enabling one to dive into the music to explore the microtonal sonic landscape and find it reiterating itself constantly, itself echoing the cyclical and chiaroscopic nature of the work on the macroscopic level.
Chiaroscuro plays a major part in this work: not just in terms of its light and heavy elements but also in the contrasting emotional and psychic impact. There are passages of low hums and sub-sonic tones that are decidedly restful and balanced, punctuated by those monolithic and brooding stabs of percussion, collaborating in crescendo to create a sense of disequilibrium; so to do the multiple layers of shrill swirling bagpipe howls, together combining to produce a multitude of drone textures, ranging from soothing and eastern eastern-flavored skirls, and through to grating atonality, the whole bolstered by the occasional background intercession from the massed pipes of the home-made organ. At times there is an almost Philip Glass-like feel to it, compositionally and structurally, strongly reminiscent of his Koyaanisqaatsi era work. Above all, this surely is a highly dramatic presentation, containing both clear blue sky and lightning-charged thunderclouds, albeit a presentation of a species slightly lessened by the fact that the visual facet of the performance is absent, thus depriving it, in my view, of an essential element; this is, however, a minor quibble, as even without the benefit of the visual it still stands out as tumultuous and glowering as any emotionally-charged opera.
I am wary of live recordings at the best of times; this is an exception. It is well recorded, possesses a great deal of ambience, and even projects something of the ‘spirit’ of the Great Hall in which it was recorded, the quality of the Hall’s wonderful acoustics coming through more than amply. Moreover, and more importantly I feel, is that thankfully this is a timeless work, a piece which could have been composed, performed, and committed to tape this year quite as easily as it was on in 1987. Apart from its rarity as a recorded example of Wada’s work, The Appointed Cloud has another rarity value attached to it: it genuinely made me wish I had borne witness to its performance. For me, this is the ultimate seal of approval of any document pertaining to a live performance and in that sense then its credentials are absolutely unquestionable.
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Drew Daniel and M.C. Schmidt have abandoned their usual working methods for their new album. Gone are closely mic'd, digitally processed samples of non-musical objects, and along with them the heavily conceptual processes that have often made the liner notes of past Matmos albums as much fun as the music itself. In their place: synthesizers, synthesizers and more synthesizers.
When Matmos first announced that they would be making an "all synthesizer" album, it seemed like a drastic sea change for a group known for taking full advantage of digital technology to sample, process and sequence bits of audio. Instead of contact mics and laptops, Matmos would be set adrift in the world of analog synths, working without a net, trying to produce music by turns conceptual and whimsical with primitive technologies: voltage controlled oscillators, envelope generators, low frequency oscillators and ring modulators linked together by a maze of patchcords, sequenced and synced using outmoded CV technology, recorded directly to tape with absolutely no subsequent digital processing. Well, it turns out that this was all an elaborate fantasy on my part, a misconception born of my own annoying purist tendencies. In fact, Matmos have not gone "all analog" at all, and Supreme Balloon utilizes a wide array of digital synthesizers, software synths, MAX/MSP patches, MIDI synchronization and computer-based sequencing. The only real overriding concept on the album is "direct music," sound synthesis captured through the wire, rather than through the air. This means no microphones, but everything else in their arsenal is fair game.
I must admit to being disappointed by discovering that the concept wasn't quite as puritan as I had imagined. This certainly isn't Matmos' fault, but their "all synthesizer" album does have the disadvantage of being released at a time when the American and British underground music scene has become obsessed with analog synthesis, DIY home-built modular electronics, circuit bending and primitive recording methods. Many small indie labels have recently popped up with rosters consisting largely of classicist electronic music produced by vintage synthesizers. The music being made by these artists ranges from techno to noise to coldwave/industrial to 1960s Moog novelty throwbacks, but all of it shares in common a distaste for laptops and prefab, mass-marketed Korg synths and Roland grooveboxes, with their too-familiar presets and limited ranges of sound. There can be no doubt that there is something of a conservative streak in this movement; a backlash against the wide availability of pirated software that promises to instantly transform any suburban hipster into the second coming of J. Dilla or Autechre. Conservative though it may be, much of the music is fascinating, and the ascetic stance of its artists lends it a quality that stands out in the digital age. Matmos don't seem to care about any of this, and indeed Supreme Balloon is pretty much a Matmos album with one extra ground rule. As such, the concept feels a bit slight, and if the album itself contains many isolated moments of brilliance, it nevertheless does not share the delightful conceptual complexity that make albums like The Rose Has Teeth in the Mouth of the Beast and A Chance to Cut is a Chance to Cure so memorable, and amenable to analysis.
I am aware that all of the above is simply baggage I am bringing to the album. How does the music sound on its own terms? The answer is manifold. Supreme Balloon pays homage, at times, to the early gurus of electronic music, both in its popular and academic forms. This necessarily involves various reference points such as Wendy Carlos, Delia Derbyshire, Perry and Kingsley, Pierre Schaeffer and the INA-GRM group, Terry Riley, White Noise, Tomita, Klaus Schulze and Cluster. In this sense, the album is just as populated with "personalities" as The Rose Has Teeth. Without recourse to objects or texts, the references are more subtle, but still present. This results in an album that feels at times like a constellation of reference points, especially tracks such as "Les Folies Francaises" and the title track, the former a performance of a French baroque piece using a Switched-On Bach-style patch on a Korg MS2000, and the latter a side-long tribute very much in the kosmische vein, Tangerine Dream by way of Thighpaulsandra. But this is not the whole story: this album is not just a tribute to electronic musicians past. The album also shares with Matmos' previous work a penchant for whimsy and humor, and a predilection for infectious, simple melodies in the midst of crowded compositions that rarely forsake the "groove" for very long. A song like "Exciter Lamp" is a case in point; a weird collection of alien synth patches, jarring tones and oddball sequences that do not fail to coalesce into the crunchy, melodic, bottom-heavy techno for which Matmos have become known.
There are also some great guest players on Supreme Balloon, including the Arkestra's Marshal Allen on "Mister Mouth," playing the EVI, sort of an electronic version of a claviola. Matmos take full advantage of digital technology to chop up Allen's solo and process it into funky, resonant techno. The track is accomplished, but I can't help but feel like something is lost in translation amidst all this processing. And what is lost is any trace of the stochastic. One of the things that makes hand-played (or mouth-played) analog synths interesting is their potential for randomness, unreliability, unpredictable jumps in pitch and odd bits of noise and interference. By smoothing off the rough edges and treating the sounds like just another object to sample and process, I feel as if Matmos missed a chance.
Again, though, these complaints find me going "outside the text" a bit, looking for something that might have been, rather than what is there, which is frequently brilliant. My favorite track on the album proper is the title track, a beautiful, longform synth excursion that unfolds in a leisurely way, gathering together hyperelliptic surfaces and resonant emanations to create areas of tension and resolution, turbulence and placidity. The use of some offbeat musical gadgets—an electronic tabla machine and the Flame MIDI Talking Synth among them—satisfies the gearhead in me, while adding outre textures that Matmos can truly call their own. It's an awesome journey that pays homage to Cluster and Tangerine Dream, without ever being overly reverent. The Latin-inflected "Rainbow Flag" opens the album on a kitschy note, in which easy listening potential is complicated by clusters of high-pitched bleeps. It's not quite the flamboyant gay pride parade suggested by the track's title, but it's close enough, a joyous assemblage of campy musical references, from theremin-heavy sci-fi soundtracks to the unmistakable sounds of the Stylophone, probably the cheapest instrument used by Matmos in the making of the album. "Cloudhopper" ends the album on an ambient note, a spacey circulation of events that sounds perhaps closest to what my original, purist fantasies had imagined for the album.
Supreme Balloon is unique in having five bonus tracks amid its various formats; four on the iTunes and double-LP versions, and one on the Japanese CD version. The quality of these tracks is average to amazing. "Staircase," which appeared first on the Peace (for mom) compilation, sounds like an electronic version of Lubomyr Melnyk's minimalistic piano arpeggiations, interesting but slight. The best of the bonus tracks is definitely "Hashish Master," featuring the incomparable Terry Riley on ARP 2600. The dark, druggy tones of the track bring it close in mood to the Coil of Astral Disaster, intense repetitions and decadent, Dionysian undercurrents. In my view, this track should have been included on the album proper, even if it might have broken up the lighter, kitschier vibe of the rest of the album. "Orban" is an admirable tribute to acid techno, containing plenty of eyeball-vibrating MDMA smacks, playing with the stereo channels in an engaging way, even in the absence of any sort of central hook to hold onto. The album artwork deserves a special mention, with its postmodern combination of 1889 World's Fair French Pavilion aesthetics, with a colorful, fractalized landscape seemingly generated by topological algorithms.
Taken together with its bonus tracks, Supreme Balloon is an admirable tangent for Matmos, full of stunning synthscapes and groovy complexity. Though it often seems to be working at cross purposes with itself, staging a sometimes uncomfortable conversation between the asceticism of classic electronic musics and the Matmosian maximalist sample-and-process strategies, there are enough winning moments to more than recommend it. I predict that this album will inspire some accusations of dilletantism to be directed towards the duo, as their dip into the often rarefied realm of direct music delights in its own impiousness, but I suspect that Drew Daniel and M.C. Schmidt won't spend much time worrying about such things.
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This merch table gem is a one sided 7" limited to 1000 copies. 500 on blue, 200 on red, 200 yellow and 100 on green.
Contained on this thick piece of love is a rockola version of Throbbing Gristle's track United. This will be gone fast and won't be repressed.
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Limited edition of 300 copies in a heavy stock screen printed jacket. Numbered.
A Zamuro is a dark South American vulture of great size. Zamuro is also a solo composition piece for portable synth and analog filter. Side A on this LP is a live realization of this piece recorded at the Compound in San Francisco in 2006 (Mastered by Lasse Marhaug). Carlos composed and performed this piece live on several tours in the US/Europe/Japan all trough out 2006 and 2007, if you saw him live in those two years this is the piece he performed.
This was the most complete version of it that made it to tape. Side B is a studio piece recorded live on a much larger modular synth, based around the same theme, but with structural and tonal variations not in the original composition. This is pure psychedelic electronic music. Cover illustration by Megan Ellis. Screen printed at Monoroid
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- Duncan Edwards
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Amongst many other things, Elgaland-Vargaland has a constitution, a hymn, a coat of arms, a national dish, secret police, embassies, and worldwide Ministers for a wide variety of subjects including Astral Projection, Reinstatement of Obsolete Technology, Change, Nostalgia, Frequencies, Shopping, Bloody Marys, Words (all words ever uttered, written or stated in any form in the past, now or in the future) and Magic, Agriculture, Digital Food, Nothing, Lamination, Shagging, and the rather splendid Ministry for Missing Persons (with no name listed since "The Minister has gone missing, having closed the Ministry - permanently..." ).
The single is in a numbered limited edition of 500 in a lovely and radiant sleeve. The music within is balanced betwixt spirit and dignity in a way that perhaps only a mariachi band could have achieved. KREV seeks world unification one individual at a time. On 27th of May 1992 at 12 noon GMT, the state of Elgaland-Vargaland was proclaimed by its founders (of Elgaland) Leif Elggren and (of Vargaland) CM von Hausswolff. This after Konungarikena Elgaland-Vargaland decided that from the 14th of March 1992, to annex and occupy the following territories:
"i – All border frontier areas between all countries on earth, and all areas (up to a width of 10 nautical miles) existing outside all countries’ territorial waters. We designate these territories our physical territory.
ii – Mental and perceptive territories such as: the Hypnagogue State (civil), the Escapistic Territory (civil), and the Virtual Room (digital)."
You can't argue with that.
May is traditionally a big month for this state. Accordingly there has been a burst of regal activity with the opening of The Institute of Pataphysics in Santander and the announcement that Elgaland-Vargaland will, on May 27th 2008, inaugurate the new embassy in Zurich, Switzerland, on the site of Cabaret Voltaire, Spiegelgasse 1, CH-8001 Zürich. Then, a day later, Elgaland-Vargaland will annex the Bodensee (Lake Constance) between Switzerland, Austria and Germany "in order to give the nation's mental territories, such as the hypnagoguic state, a necessary physicality." Disappointingly no KREV passports have been issued since 2005 but hopefully mine will now be forthcoming.
http://www.elgaland-vargaland.org/
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As intimidating as it is impressive, this third and final collaboration between Norway's BJ Nilsen and the Icelandic duo (of Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson and Helgi Thorsson) is exceptional. Combining the sort of dynamic and dramatic soundscapes of The Hafler Trio with a darker and less directional approach, the trio have made the sort of uneasy listening that is difficult to bring oneself to listen to but is inescapable once it starts.
I attempted to listen to this on headphones in the office; normally the quiet background doesn't interfere with whatever I am listening to. Passing Out, however, requires full concentration and preferably proper amplification through speakers. The machine-like hum that begins the single, long piece (which goes by the title "Scandinavian Tourist") never reaches a volume that is satisfying with headphones. This is not music that is meant to be blasted very loud but it is only when a bit of power drives the sound does the full richness of the composition become apparent. The atmosphere is complete when it is listened to in the dead of night when the light is right and there is little noise from outside. Enjoyable as it is under these conditions, it does mean the Passing Out is not going to be in heavy rotation around here as it is not often I have over an hour to kill instead of sleeping.
This is a shame because, listening environments aside, it is a fantastic piece of sound. It is very difficult to describe what is going on but both Nilsen and the duo of Stilluppsteypa have made a constantly shifting and infinitely fascinating recording. Nilsen's own hallmarks of haunting field recordings (both left raw and tinkered with) are fleshed out with synthesised sounds, weird processed instruments and, at one point late in the piece, what sounds like a Kraftwerkian synth melody dying on its feet. The different segments of "Scandinavian Tourist" bear little direct relation to each other but the album hangs together very well as a whole.
I have missed out on the previous entries in this trilogy but will be hastily making moves to locate the other two releases. If they are half as good as this, I expect to have more than the usual number of sleepless nights.
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There is the old adage that "brevity is the soul of wit" which, in some cases, may be true. However, in the case of 16 minute EPs such as this, brevity is more of a frustrating tease than a positive quality. This four track EP, recorded while Bailiff was touring Europe is such a purely compelling piece of work that it makes me wish it was a little bit longer.
There is a fascinating intimacy to the music on this EP that is accentuated in the simple arrangements used. Most songs feature only Bailiff's guitar, Monseré’s cello, and the vocals, which are the . Both artists contribute vocals, notably in harmonies on "Let Time Breathe" and "Shadow." By far, the vocals on this disc are among the most beautiful and delicate I've ever heard: words alone cannot express how wonderful they are.
The tracks are consistent with Bailiff's solo work in that they have a minimal, bare-bones quality to the instrumentation and composition, yet still manage to be engrossing and have a simple, pure beauty that few other artists can attain. Her work always has this intimate quality, but this collaborative recording feels almost like recordings that were made for the duo's own private listening, so it's almost like peering into someone's private journal.
The packaging adds to the extremely personal nature of the music, resembling an old LP sleeve that could have been past from friend to friend, the inner sleeve even featuring hand-written liner notes by Monseré. Although this record is too short in duration, the limited pressing of 310 copies is perhaps a greater concern. I sincerely hope that perhaps a more expansive collaboration could be in the works, but I do feel quite satisfied to have this material as it stands.
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The inevitable fallibility of magnetic media can, while being frustrating as all hell to an artist, provide the impetus for an even better creation. Oxide represents such a creative disaster: old cassettes and reels of tape had been accidentally subjected to moisture damage. Instead of tossing them, Scott Konzelmann strung them up and pulled what he could off of the decaying tape and built this new work out of the remnants in his first full length release in quite awhile.
The structure of the single 49 minute track alone is a metaphor for the fickle nature of magnetic tape: it has a very cut & paste quality, but without the per-sample perfection of digital audio editing tools. Instead, it feels raw and unpolished, like art based on rotting audiotape should. The rough structure is only amplified by the actual sounds that lie within it. Sonically it is a rather noisy work, sounds resembling machinery rattles, amplified sandpaper, abrasive textures, etc.
It is jarring at times, listening to what may simply be amplified and processed tape hiss requires careful attention to hear subtleties before the listener is slapped in the face by a raw blast of pure audio sludge. From the sound of things, it doesn't sound like a great deal of processing was used to the original raw material, since it sill retains such an unaffected, analog quality. The original sounds were based around Konzelmann’s traditional approach to music: utilizing various junkyard sonic installations to create a veritable Sanford and Son noise orchestra. However, the decay of tape makes this less relevant but doesn't hamper the artistic quality of the work.
The actual sound of decay that is presented here is by far its strongest asset: the listener can practically hear the creases in the tape, pieces of magnetic oxide that may have flaked off due to environmental damage, mold blocking the tape heads, etc. Often, the minimal nature of the damage is fascinating: the sub-bass hum and crackle at around the 17 minute mark are among the most compelling audio textures I've heard in material like this. The parts that are more dissonant rank up there with the best of the analog noise kings, before folks like Merzbow traded in their junk gear for Powerbooks.
The overarching analog sound of this work is what makes it stand on its own amongst its peers. No matter how complex one can make a Max/MSP patch, or how many modules one can load into Reaktor, getting textures and sounds like are found here simply isn't the same. Perhaps the most adept artists could model sounds like this, but I'm skeptical that it would retain the same warmth and fascinating microcosmic worlds that are here. An abstract, occasionally violent, but undeniably amazing collection of accidental textures and sounds.
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Believe it or not, the title only gives a taste of the irony put to tape here. Over the course of 19 songs, Lazy Magnet rummages though almost every form of popular music, sometimes covering several genres in space of a few seconds. Band leader Jeremy Harris and company have the musical chops to pull off such a scatterbrained project, but the silly lyrics and non-stop pastiche get to be wearing.
Straight comparisons are usually a cop out, but I couldn't listen to Is Music Even Good? without thinking of Ween. Like Dean and Gene, Harris uses disparate genres as vehicle for goofing off rather than letting the music set its own agenda, but thankfully he has his own brand of humor. Lazy Magnet trades Ween's frat boy fixation on sex, drugs and scat for a focus on pure lyrical nerddom. "Masters of Science Fiction" is a Roger Miller style country ballad that is spilt between twangy acoustic strumming and piercing mic feedback. "Look into the Eyes of the Your Lord and Say No" is a bouncy new-wave jam, but the lyrics are pure Neal Pert style sword and sorcery affirmations.
Levity is a tricky thing in music. While Is Music Even Good? never degenerates into outright parody, I kept wishing Harris would focus his talent. The album is at its best when he stops using his songs as musical punch lines. "Your Hidden Adversary is Rising pt3 A Flower Fighting a Dragon" is a Tangerine Dream style kosmische synth workout that slowly decays into roaring noise. Lacking goofy lyrics, the song has its own context outside the usual Mountain Dew and Nintendo imagery. It is a dork-out without the sardonic wink.
All this scolding about getting serious is probably for naught, though. Harris has been making music for over a decade, enough time to know exactly what he is doing. The arrangements and musicianship on this album are amazing, and the audio quality is great for a home recording. He is making music on his own terms and obviously enjoying himself. That said, if Lazy Magnet tried for something a little more serious than a round of Donkey Kong, they could make some mind blowing music.
samples:
- Your Hidden Adversary is Rising pt3 A Flower Fighting a Dragon
- Masters of Science Fiction
- Look Into the Eyes of Your Lord and Say No
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Body and voice, the two oldest iinstruments known to humankind, are the only ones featured on this album. The group, which is all female by the way, uses rhythmic call and response chants to give archaic stylings to contemporary performance art. The concept in of itself is great, but the Boys' rejection of songwriting makes for a repetitious listening.
Having never been to any of their "legendary" live shows, I decided to look up photos and video to give me an idea of what the group was all about. From what's available on the internet, it seems like watching them in person would be a ball. Their act incorporates dance, costumes, set design, and audience interaction. Far more interesting than watching some dude peer into his laptop for a half hour, I'm sure. Unfortunately, none of this excitement transfers over to Sacred Vacation.
For an a capella album, this one has little in the way of actual words to wrap your head around. Each song is constructed around a repeated chant, which is often just moaning, grunting or cooing. Clapping and stomping sits in for percussion. Occasionally, the women will harmonize or shout out lines like "You are my sweet potato!" or "You gotta boyfriend, you gotta husband!", but even those pieces seem thinly arranged. The group claims everything from diva-dom to Baltimore doo-wop as inspiration, but they ignore the strong lyrical tradition in those genres. Far from limiting the group, I think focusing on songwriting and oratory would open them up to new themes and influences. Only so much can be expressed by babbling.
I don't want come down too hard on the Lexie Mountain Boys. Their theatre and vocals approach to music-making could offer a good antidote to the dude-centric, technology obsessed status quo in experimental music, at least in principle. But to live up their promise, they'll have to release a CD that can stand by itself outside of a live context. They easiest way I can think of is for them to actually sing about something. As beautiful as the unadorned human voice is, the appeal is lost if it says nothing.
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