Podcast Episodes 721 & 722 are live!
Mid-November midweek special
Two new episodes are now available.
Episode 721 features Throwing Muses, Eros, claire rousay, Moin, Zachary Paul, Voice Actor and Squu, Leya, Venediktos Tempelboom, Cybotron, Robin Rimbaud and Michael Wells, Man or Astro-Man?, and Aisha Vaughan.
Episode 722 has James Blackshaw, FACS, Laibach, La Securite, Good Sad Happy Bad, Eramus Hall, Nonconnah, The Rollies, Jabu, Freckle, Evan Chapman, diane barbe, Tuxedomoon, and Mark McGuire.
Wine in Paris photo by Mathieu.
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He spells his namePhiiliip so that Google searches return more accurate results, and getsinvited to open for Momus on his 2001 American Patchwork tour. I was atthe show, and though I found Phiiliip's fried electropop to beexcruciating at best, I found the man himself to be strikinglyattractive, in that post-Danceteria-Berliniamsburg-by-way-of-West-Hollywood kind of way(which probably says more about my bizarre predilection for thatemaciated hustler hipster look than it does about Phiiliip'sbeauty), and I was seduced into buying his debut album Pet Cancer.When I finally got up the courage to actually listen to the CD, I wasquite bemused by the artist's combination of Beck vocals, Gary Numanposturing and Larry Tee electrotrash bedroom electronics. I was alsobemused by the constant drug references ("U Did 2 Much K") and thepersistently nihilistic lyrics. Though I still wasn't convinced thatPhiiliip had any real value musically, his album was at least funny andendearingly odd. Not that I spun the thing very often, the cheaplylopsided beat programming and annoying vocal processing making it apretty trying listen. 
Thankfully, Kirk's creative juices and frustration with the state of the world birthed this diverse yet cohesive collection of forward-thinking music from the former Cabaret Voltaire member. Though the title is an overt nod to King Tubby, Kirk doesn't let that restrict him from showcasing work encompassing various genre influences, regularly within the same song. The opener, titled "The Truck Bombers Of Suburbia", exhibits this eclecticism at its most extreme, with awkwardly looped and heavily effected samples of classic rock, funk, and dub abruptly clashing with one another. Previously released as a 12" single, the grinding quasi-dancehall track "Who's Afraid (Of The Red White And Blue)" sets the tone for this largely nasty, aggressive album and introduces listeners to vocalist Pat Riot, who I can only assume is yet another entry in Kirk's lengthy list of pseudonyms. (Rather than confuse readers further, Kirk and Riot will be treated as separate entities for the duration of the review.) Riot's distorted voice can also be heard growling midway through the handclap-heavy dark techno number "Smoke Em Out," a reference to George W. Bush's blunt yet unsuccessful approach to dealing with Al Qaeda in Afghanistan. "Goat Dub Reaction" mixes Middle Eastern melodies and keyboard strings and pulses over looped hand percussion rhythms, with the occasional vocal from Riot. On "Desert Rhumba," Kirk updates the classic Sheffield bleep sound he helped define, with a gritty synth riff driving a litany of furious protest chants. "Heart And Mind Of Dub" closes things out with a relatively traditional dub groove, its instrumentation augmented with liberal use of echo chamber delay and even a noisy remnant from earlier on the album. Despite the diverse influences represented here, this is a remarkably complete release, with the vocals effectively holding several tracks together that may have seemed too different otherwise. As an eager follower of Kirk's recent output, I can say that this is his most accessible album in some time, and the best so far of his post-9/11 work. I cannot help but wonder what would happen if only other electronic artists, particularly those of the younger generation, would follow his lead and use their music to speak against injustice, hypocrisy, or whatever specific issue concerns them. Call me what you will, but if this is the type of music that war and right-wing global politics can spawn, then we need a lot more of it. Get cracking, people. 
Mostnotably, however, My Long Accumulating Discontentfeatures intelligible vocal parts and nearly unedited instrumentalpassages. His music is ever-expanding and finding new modes ofexistence. There is no sense here in talking about drones or noise.Though the music can be a collage of random samples and instruments attimes, this record also features a queer and convincing logic thatstems from its almost antique sound. Tracks like "Dissolved (Te WhareAo Aitu)" and "The Sour Accompaniment" make a direct appeal toantiquity and play on the notion that these songs are all part of somemorbid dream set far in the past; almost like Tim Burton's vision ofAmerica at the turn of the century. On the other hand, there are softand fluid pieces such as "The Children's Infirmary or Precious andSugar Foot" and "A Cold Spring in Summerland" that play off lessfamiliar sounds and structures. While sounding distinct and perhapsmore inviting than their musical neighbors, they ooze an aroma wovenout of dust, old age, and memories better forgotten. I have an inklingof an idea that there is some form of a band environment behind theseseventeen tracks—saxophones, nervous cymbals, melodic vocal parts, andnarrative elements all play a part in various places—and there is,periodically, a very direct and uplifting song structure that standsout among the other pieces without being a show-stealer. I doubt Lilesis forming a familiar band whatsoever, but the music that's usheredforth from his mind and those of the musicians used on this album isundoubtedly more structured and mesmerizing than anything else I'veheard from him. Despite this, he's also managed to maintain thehaunting, demonic, and perverse demeanor that makes his music so uniqueand alluring. It's the addition of new sounds and structures to hismusic plus his ability to manipulate those structures that make thisrecord stand out so sharply in my collection. Songs like "An UnkemptGarden or the Cod Cape" and "The Captain's Apprentice" are the mostemotionally stunning songs I've heard come from Liles and it is intheir shape and movements that they become so remarkable. It's a shamethat I missed this record in 2004, it deserves a great deal ofattention as it is one of the most exciting records I've heard from therealm of all music subconscious and spectral. 
Although the CD only release is split into two halves as if it were avinyl LP ("Side Cosmic Trigger" and "Side 2AM Visit"), it is very mucha unified work on which the even the track titles seem incidental. Oneof the highlights is the nearly 16 minute live workout "Brighter Than10,000 Cacophonous Suns." During this number, Kohei sounds as if he isrummaging through a pile of scrap metal while an overloaded microphoneproduces ear-splitting feedback trying to capture the action. Thecredit given to clearly audible "screaming and drunk noise fans"alludes to audience and performer having a grand old time wreakingsonic havoc together. "Rock Me," a track originally included on an ABBAtribute album, proves that Throbbing Gristle's Chris Carter is not theonly experimentalist with a fondness for the Swedish disco outfit.Filthy Dabo's admiration goes far enough to require him to end hisblistering feedback massacre 30 seconds before the end of the track, sothat he can whistle along to ABBA on the radio for its duration.Throughout the album he covers both ends of the sonic spectrum, asexemplified by the high pitched feedback and intense low end rumblethat are both prominent during "Rock Me." Moments of respite are fewthroughout the 43 minute set, but there are some sections of relativecalm. "Stabbed Straw Puppet" fades in slowly before the gradualaccumulation of harsh feedback loops commences. The final two minutesof album closer "2AM Visit" consists of the sound of water drippinginto a bucket. "Roulette" features samples of voices, a rewinding tapemachine, and other found elements juxtaposed with blasts of sharpnoise. This track stands out among the all-out noise tracks as havingan almost musique concrete feel. This use of different approachespoints to possible directions in which he could steer the project inthe future. This is not an album for all occasions, but is a perfectchoice for when one is the mood to be dominated by sound. 
Tucker Martine is a producer and sound recordist, responsible for the critically lauded Broken Hearted Dragonflies: Insect Electronica from Southeast Asia and a number of other projects too various to mention. Orchestra Dim Bridgesis their first collaborative album, even though they've worked togetheron past projects. The album is not quite what I might have initiallyexpected from the two. I was thinking of something along the lines ofimprovisation on the violin from Kang with production flourishes andfield recordings from Martine. What they've done instead is altogethermore calculated, a unique sort of instrumental post-rock album thatthrows everything including the kitchen faucet into the mix, throwingeverything at the wall and seeing what sticks. There is a definite lackof any immutable formula here; one track might be a simple guitarmelody with shuffling beats; another a chamber quartet obscured bydigitally textured surface noise; and another a dizzying assemblage oflaptop spliced snippets of audio drawn from instrumental performances,field recordings and ethnic plunderphonia. Tucker Martine has a clearpredilection for busy, overworked arrangements full of minute audiodetails, evidenced by tracks such as "Baseer Ornamental," in which arather lovely Oriental violin melody is constantly upstaged byMartine's galaxy of spliced-in effects. This eclecticism, whileinteresting at first, eventually becomes tiring, and by the end of thisbrief album I was left feeling somewhat shortchanged. Although he isundeniably talented, Martine reminds me of the dissatisfied painter whokeeps returning to a finished canvas, adding little background toucheshere and there, until the painting is completely overwhelmed withsuperfluous decoration and has to be scrapped. It's the producer's jobto know when to step back and let the music stand, and save for acouple of tracks, Orchestra Dim Bridges sounds like ahyperactive child set loose in a sound library with a pair of electricshears and a tub of epoxy, which unsurprisingly does not yield veryinteresting results. 
Bands like Giants Chair, Cap'n Jazz, AmericanFootball, Compound Red, Boys Life, and Braid are reference points forthe sound with which the Miners flirt. In fact, vocalist Dan Burton'sbaritone sounds similar to Braid's Bob Nanna. Both have a stony andprimitive sound, unmolested by the effects of any formal training. It'shard to tell if Burton's voice (or Nanna's, for that matter) ispleasant or not, but it does give shape and substance to what wouldotherwise be music pretty enough to be heard, but not forceful enoughto be compelling. The more perspicacious listener will realize that theband is actually from the Midwest (Bloomington, Indiana: home of theHoosiers and the town which kindly lent itself to the simple beautiesof "Breaking Away") and that Burton was once in Ativin, a cohort in thelegion which made the initial assault for the prenominate mid-90s,Midwestern sound. So the appropriation of the sound is less fromappreciation than actual practice. "Errance" has an archetypalMidwestern sound trope: at the inception of the chorus, the tempo slowsand the instrumentation falls away and evaporates, leaving only thelightly brushed snare drum, the softly enunciated vocals, and thesparingly plucked guitar. The guitar is almost an afterthought. Thesong's title is curious since the Miners are anything but errant. Theguitars hover and swirl in orbits which revolve around each other,attracted by some musical centripetal force and never shooting off inan unforeseen exit velocity. They might meander, but they never getlost. Speaking of guitars, they are what the band does best. The Minerswrite intricate, delicate, and lovely guitar parts which fit togetherseamlessly. The band is expert at crafting catchy six-stringedmelodies, almost overshadowing or overpowering the rhythm section. Itcertainly doesn't help that the rhythm section is never seriouslychallenged by any of the songs. Actually, "Comfort/Guilt" approachessomething close to rhythmic complexity. Playful drumming mixes withcascading guitars which teeter off the edges of notes, threatening tofall into a cavernous abyss. "Precious Blood" also percolatespromisingly for a few short-lived instrumental minutes but soon enoughrecedes into the next track, "We Know In Part," a more typical slowdrawl from the Miners' canon. Transitions such as this show that theMiners are content to pick-axe their way along quite deliberately,remaining in shafts where it is dark, where everything moves a littleslower, and where the threat of black lung is everywhere. When theMiners do poke their heads above ground, the sunlight is blinding andthey quickly duck down again, comfortable in their Midwestern andmidterranean realm. 
Though his work is understandably lumped in withhis industrial cohorts SPK and Scorn, it actually has a lot more incommon with the spacescapes of Tangerine Dream or the pioneeringambient work of Popol Vuh. Brian Williams is a consummate engineer andproducer as well, and throughout his career has taken advantage of thelatest technology to increase the presence and richness of his uniquelytextural audio environments. 1990's Heresywas a definite high point in a career of high points for Lustmord, andSoleilmoon has just reissued the album in a nice digipack with a newre-master overseen by Williams himself. Heresy is an hour-longmind trip into massive, cavernous expanses of subterranean rock, intodark recesses filled with a sense of slow, abiding dread. Broken intosix pieces each more consuming than the next, Heresy has anarrative arc from beginning to end, as Williams penetrates deeper anddeeper chambers of bedrock, coming closer to the bubbling magma andfrozen expanses of wasteland at the center of a dying star. Buriedbeneath the yawning industrial maw of these turgid reverberations andtime-stretched, strangled screams are disquieting audio details: aconvocation of monstrous Lovecraftian entities devouring the flesh of acorpse and releasing ancient, foul belches into the cold, stagnant air;the deep, bellowing laugh of a murderous tyrant standing victoriousover the bones of his enemies; a muffled cry of terror from the centerof an immense electrical storm. Williams wields his electronics with anear towards audio environments that envelop the listener, slowly butsurely canceling all thought and focusing the attention on thisimmersive dronescape. Lustmord albums appeal to the same part of mybrain that finds inexhaustible enjoyment in the darkest of heavy metal,from Black Sabbath and Judas Priest to Slayer, Mayhem, Burzum and SunnO))). Like any of the aforementioned artists, Lustmord's penchant forthe shadow side of reality always runs the danger of digressing intounconscious self-parody, but if listened to in the right frame of mind,Heresy is powerful stuff.
A majority of the tracks are live performancesfeaturing outlandish clarinet solos, haphazard and drunken blurts ofbrass-noise, and a good deal of shouting. After listening to the albumbeginning to end, and without repeating certain tracks of particularbeauty, this document of an obscure and somehow mesmerizing band hascompletely won my heart. It is true that some information about theband makes some of the tracks more amusing (for instance, The DeadlyDoris hired a three strangers on a couple of occasions to fill in forthem live; during the concert cards were handed out that informed theaudience that The Deadly Doris were "being seen on stage in a foreignbody"), but many of these songs stand up on their own. "M..Rökk:Rhythmus im Blut" and "Der Tod ist ein Skandal" are incredibly viciousand nearly catchy pieces of metal destruction set around the openingscenes of 2001: A Space Odyssey while other tracks, like"Naturkatastrophenkonzert," seem to be on the disc merely forhistorical reasons. Of interest to some might be the appearance ofBlixa Bargeld on one track and a concert recording from a double billwith SPK. Whether or not SPK actually performs on the track is anyone'sguess. So much of this could easily be dismissed as pure noise wankery,but there's an atypical beauty in a lot of these pieces; somethingabout the raw and unfinished feel of the whole album makes it a hundredtimes more enjoyable than a lot of the studio work I've heard comingfrom contemporary noise-mongers. "Der Letzte Walzer," primarily a noisecollage, features a trio of easy-listening musicians playing in thebackground. The meshing of these two styles of music, oddly enough,sticks out in my mind. It's just that sort of surrealist approach tothe music that makes this record so enjoyable. 
"The Drink" begins with samples of folks slurpingdown beverages undoubtedly served with little umbrellas included. Onthis track Dixon ingeniously incorporates the rhythmic sounds of icecubes clinking around in drinking glasses into the bouncy beat.Throughout the EP he captures the feeling of being far from everydayworries, as if during the course of the program one is traveling aroundthis popular vacation destination. The sound of birds weaving in andout of the rhythms on "The Beach" similates the experience of suchcreatures circling overhead while one is at a beach. The rapid cut-upsnippets heard during opener "The Culture," such as vocal fragments("mahalo"), steel drum patterns, and Hawaiian style guitar playing,attempt to provide an overview of Hawaiian culture while acting as awarped aural welcoming mat. Musically the tracks consist of many tinybits of found sound, tied together by intricately programmed 4/4 beats.The rhythms are multi-layered and sometimes fall into brief repetitivesections that allow for melodies to sneak in. These melodic sectionsare highly effective since they are used so sparingly, especially theinfectious staccato keyboard melody that is introduced halfway into"The Drink." The Hawaiian theme has rarely been used outside theexotica music genre that it's refreshing to hear it updated socleverly. 
This is the third edition of the album, initially released as alimited 12" (containing only the first nine tracks), subsequentlyreleased as a limited double CD in a silk bag, and now released as adouble CD in a regular jewel case. Typical of a Muslimgauze release,the album is adorned with photos from the Middle East that Bryn Jonesnever actually visited, even though the region's history, culture andpolitics obsessed him for his entire career. Even though Jones changedmusical directions several times throughout his career, from abstractnoise and ambient compositions through to densely layered worldbeat anddance music, there is no absolutely mistaking the Muslimgauze sound:those crisp, powdery beats and ragged, sudden edits; the layers ofburied samples from Arabic music; the extreme, trance-inducingrepetition. Syrinjia is distinguishable from other 'Gauzereleases of this period only because of its unwavering fixation on dubreggae. Jones was, of course, one of the first to draw a straight linebetween Kingston dub production and Middle Eastern breaks, long beforeDJ/Rupture started releasing albums. Muslimgauze's dub is a tenser,more violent beast than the average Augustus Pablo or King Tubby side,coming closer to the type of dancehall dub typified by Rootsman or TheBug's Pressure. Fiercely synthetic machine beats built fromJones' usual sound palette are joined by occasional dancehallshoutdowns, weaving Arabic female vocals and random plunges into theecho chamber. There are several standout tracks here, notable for theirrelative absence of dissonance and aggression, including the thrilling"Detrimental" and "Holy Man." The extra tracks also contain someworthwhile tracks, including the minimal dubwise techno of "Taliban"and "Zindag." Those insane enough to be Muslimgauze completists havedoubtless already tracked this album down, but for the casual Gauzelistener, Syrinjia would still be a worthy purchase. 
This album is the full realization of theconcept and it shows—as track after track is stronger than the last,building to a climax that settles in like a lamb more than a lion,drawing absolutely no complaints. Abaddon being the abyss or place ofthe dead, it's not expected that songs on the record will approach anyform of positivity, but they do on occasion, and either way it's adelight coming through the speakers even when they're at their mostmellow. The only thing that gets in the way is the sometimes obtusenature of the lyrics that reach for highfalutin concepts without anyreal merit. "I missed your monotube" and "Acute angles divide my paththat I had lost" may sound cool, but ultimately they are a little muchon the simple structures that surround them, and therefore they soundlike reaching. The repitition is also a bit trying, but forgiven if thesong actually hits the right marks eventually. "Syracuse," forinstance, repeats the same two lines until they're almost meaningless,but the driving energy of the song and the many layers that itrepresents make this null and void. This is almost math rock, as thereseems to be some greater formula at play that mere humans can'tcomprehend. The duo that make up Pinback on record shift styles andtempos with sly skill, all in the name of making pleasant sounds andhummable melodies, even if it sounds more complicated than it is.Whether there is more artifice than art is inconsequential.
