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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Tom Zacharias was something of a renaissance man: Sweden's first malepin-up, a successful film and television producer, singer andsongwriter of a string of well-received LPs, and the mastermind behind Belinda and Belinda's Daughter,to my knowledge the only albums ever to have been conceived and createdspecifically to be sold from ads in the back of porn magazines. This isthe sort of thing that could only have happened in the Sweden of theearly 70s, with the sexual revolution in full swing and people waitingin lines around the block for mainstream erotic films like I Am Curious Yellow.In 1973, Zacharias was approached by businessman, inventor andastrologer Stefan Brydolf, who proposed that he write, perform andproduce two concept albums of erotic rock, along with an accompanyingerotic novel. The novel was written, and the LPs were recorded with thehelp of Sweden's finest session musicians, and everything sold fairlywell. The next logical market was North America, so Zacharias recruitedNew Yorker Suzy Heine to translate and re-dub the lyrics in English,and ads were placed in US men's magazines like Screw and Hustler.Unfortunately, they never received even one order, and the album wasshelved. Now Sweden's Subliminal Sounds have released this collection,which gathers together the never-before-heard English language tracks,together with both of the Swedish LPs. I have rarely heard anything asfunny or as shocking as the first six tracks on this disc; funky 70sacid rock with completely over-the-top pornographic lyrics. Startingoff with a sleazy fuzz-guitar solo, "Dirty" quickly erupts intoalarmingly direct pornographic provocation: "You want to suck a cockand lick a hairy pussy/And wear sexy underwear and paint your face/Youwant a cock up your ass and rubber ducks in your bath/You'd like toscrew every sailor in the place...You want a 10-year old virgin to useand abuse/You'd like your friends to gangbang your mother-in-law/Whileyou watch it all and jerk off on her shoes." Singer Suzy Heine eruptsinto perverse Karen Finley-style shrieking, detailing every sexualperversion imaginable: S&M, incest, rape fantasies, foot fetishismand homosexuality are all celebrated with equal zeal. What's mostamazing is the infectiously funky jamming by the session musicians,which is really quite good, a terrific specimen of mid-70s acid-funk.It's tempting to compare it to porn soundtrack music, but I don'trecall any porn soundtracks with music this accomplished. A closerparallel might be Blaxploitation music, an apt comparison, becauseZacharias often reminds me of a Swedish Rudy Ray "Dolemite" Moore. Fornon Swedish-speakers, this disc loses a little bit of momentum aftertrack six, because the remainder of the tracks are from theSwedish-language LPs, but the music is still fun. Belinda isabsolutely essential; I don't where else you'd get to hear suchlanguid, trippy rock music accompanying lyrical refrains like: "There'sa he-man on the sofa with a hard-on, giving me the go-ahead sign/Aboutfour cocks at a time is all I can handle, with someone sucking mine."
This compilation is an excellent selection of highlights from the group's entire career to date. The previously unreleased instrumental, "Primrose Hill," is a perfect lead-off track, as it provides an introduction and sets the mood. Travel Edition shows that Saint Etienne has evolved from their dance music roots, as heard on their 1990 cover of Neil Young's "Only Love Can Break Your Heart," into a group capable of featuring tracks with a live band feel, such as "Lose That Girl," alongside dance-floor friendly tracks, such as "Sylvie," on the same album (1998's Good Humor). A main strength is their ability to write catchy pop songs while retaining credibility in the techno world. Saint Etienne is one of the few groups besides New Order and The Pet Shop Boys that have successfully combined pop music and techno. US mainstream radio would benefit greatly by supporting them. While it is easy to dismiss pop music as trite, Travel Edition serves to remind us that music can be catchy and still have integrity.
Listening to these four musicians play together is much like watching asixth grader beat the shit out of some kid just for the hell of it. Themusic is so heavy and unhinged that it makes all those fast-loud bandslook like a bunch of sissies masturbating to episodes of the Red Shoe Diaries. Sure, it's one thing to be fast and loud, but to be heavy like Converge is on You Fail Meis entirely different. Their guitars are thick as tar, their rhythmsmaniacal to the point of dizzying, and their arrangementsunpredictable. The lyrical content, on one hand, has a romantic edge toit: obviously the demons of Jane Doe never fully went away andthe title of the album is suggestive of a topic too many metal-headsare too cool to bring up. Relationships between people, emotionaldisappointment, needs, love, lust, and sex all make an appearance onthe record and Jacob Bannon has some stunning moments lyrically thatconvey all the disgust and confusion that arises out of all thosetopics. "First Light" and "Last Light" open up You Fail Me on alevel that might turn most away. The opening guitar riffs on "FirstLight" are gorgeous and heart-wrenchingly emotive — but it's the waythat "Last Light" plays on this beginning that really enhances theireffect. The percussive chaos and nearly blurred wall of sound thatfollows is only matched in intensity by Bannon's words: "I need you tobe the strength of widows and soul survivors" stretches through thespeakers as the record begins with a cry to "Keep breathing / Keepliving / Keep searching / Keep pushing on," holding the song up throughits rumbling and screaming middle. As "Last Light" ends, Bannon yells"This is for the hearts still beating" and the purity of the noise andvehement desire echoed in the song makes the dedication believable.Tracks like "Drop Out" make it obvious that this isn't just some bandmarking out the destructive path of emotions with loud and heavy metal.The time signature shifts, frequent changes in intensity, and theabsolute control that the band exhibits over their instruments makes itobvious that Converge is a band thinking about what they are doing ateach and every moment. They still manage to sound completely out ofcontrol, though, and when "In Her Shadow" begins, it comes as the onlymoment of relief the whole record provides. Driven by a strangelyfuzzed out acoustic guitar and a hatred for taking the easy way out,it's an oddly beautiful song in the eye of a hurricane full ofbludgeoning energy. When "Eagles Become Vultures" kicks back in rightafter this, the music sounds a billion times more intense than it didbefore and You Fail Me begins to spiral out of control. Thelast four songs on the album are almost deadly in their delivery and asit convulses into silence it becomes quite clear that this is perhapsthe most honest vitriol I've heard recently.
Over twenty-one tracks, eighteen artists, and one hundred andforty-eight minutes of music, Kranky of Chicago, IL demonstrates why itis one of the most excellent record labels in existence. Stars of theLid, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Greg Davis, Loscil, Clear Horizon,Jessica Bailiff, Out Hud, Fontanelle, Pan·American, and many othersshow off their varied talents on this two-disc compilation, someproviding exclusive tracks, a couple previewing upcoming material, andeveryone making it clear just how beautiful their music is. Pricedincredibly cheap, Kompilationmakes it possible to get a taste of many of the new artists on thelabel without shelling out big bucks and it provides a chance to hearmaterial from the next Stars of the Lid and Keith Fullerton Whitmanalbum. Listening to both discs makes Kranky's diversity obvious.Christina Carter and her acoustic guitar work immediately follows thebuzzing and busy work of Autistic Daughters only to be followed by GregDavis' exclusive mix of "Campestral," which sounds nothinglike whatcomes before it. So much music is exhibited on this release that it'shard to know where to start; each track has its own essence, eachreflects a different direction in modern music, and each is fun tolisten to. More than one or two tracks reminded me of how much I loveda band and a few have forced me to put yet another record on my "tobuy" list. Each track being so different from the last might causeconcern for continuity; it is, of course, always nice when a recordflows smoothly. The Kompilation keeps everything moving quitenicely and despite the various changes in mood, structure, andpresentation, the very last song sounds as though it is part ofsomething bigger (even though no artist has two songs right next toeachother). Even though I have quite a few of the record that areshowcased on this compilation, I'm still very glad I have it and for acouple of reasons. Beyond the exclusive tracks and the previews of newmaterial, the Kompilation is just plain fun to listen to. Afterlistening to the second disc, I broke out my Out Hud and JessicaBailiff records to satiate the hunger the compilation had put in me.Listening to "Schnee" sandwiched between Pan·American's "InsideElevation" and Clear Horizon's "For Days" was a treat and made me thinkthat maybe Kranky should be a little more incestuous. Whitman, Bailiff,David Pearce, and Mark Nelson all on one record would be so good thatit might give reason to suspect that the apocalypse is coming. In anycase, the Kompilation is a good chance to hear new music and bereminded of how excellent the more familar music is. In fact, there'sabsolutely no reason not to own this double-disc collection of songs:it is cheap, it is full of some of the best music being made in theworld right now, and it's evidence of the fact that record labels andmusicians everywhere have a lot to live up to. Kranky and the musicianson the label are setting standards that many will have difficultyreaching, much less surpassing.
By the end of the last Lazarus album, Trevor Montgomery had intoned a forecast so bleak and blighted that a second album seemed an almost implausible effort. The combination of lazy vocals and a deeply depressedmusic seemed to be too much to reiterate, let alone resurrect. Yet, Lazarus is back with an album whose atmosphere is not nearly as desolate as the landscape his initial "unborn son." It's not that the Montgomery'ssignature voice has changed. He still employs the elongated vocals, making each word sound so labored and intense that it conjures an image ofutter lethargy. He still stretches syllables out to their elastic extremes. But now, the landscape around the vocals has changed. The music on "Like Trees We Grow Up To Be Satellites" seems to indicate that the sun shines a little more in the world of Lazarus and there might evenbe some vegetation lurking around the corner, as alluded to in the album'stitle. The spare guitar is again reprised but with a warmer texture. Sometimes even the word "Caribbean" is on the tip of my tongue, aroused especially by the steel drum sounds on "This American Dream" and "Yes. Roam." Even so, don't expect to find neon rainbows or happy little elvesin this new brighter Lazarus. There is still a dark cumulonimbus cloud which hovers over everything and bathes most of the songs in that harsh, yellow pre-diluvian light. On "The Poet of Emptiness" (the title alone isenough to send the bravest agoraphobe back into his bedroom), Montgomery sings: "I'm not afraid of your cursings/ it's the way friends can be when/ they are empty and jaded." Listening to a Lazarus album is a trulyprivate affair if only because you get the impression that these songs arehonestly crafted by a solitary man in the vacuum of his bedroom in the depths of 3 A.M. The fact is, a lot of artists create songs in this way.The difference here is that you can actually sense the bedroom. You can see the ruffled sheets on the bed; you can hear the silence in the apartment; you can smell the stale air of a room whose door and windows are closed; and most importantly you can hear the introspection as it plays itself out on the guitar in Montgomery's hands. "Singing to the Thieves" is the album's highpoint. Both the pace and duration of the songis rather quick and the entire effect is positively life-affirming. A fuzzy guitar is greeted by a strong drumbeat (it could be described as fast considered against the rest of the album) and I can't get the image of Neutral Milk Hotel out of my head when I listen to the song. Aside from this song, I don't know that there has been a lot of growth from Lazarus's first haunted and haunting offering, but I am also not sure whatyou can expect from such a cruelly resuscitated soul.
Wrapping up Mute's series of flawless reissues of the Virgin Prunes' neglected back catalog is this two-disc collection of odds and ends. Over the Rainbow compiles long-lost singles and compilation tracks from various vinyl and cassette releases on Rough Trade and the Prunes own Baby imprint. When this was originally released on LP back in 1986, the album only contained the material on the first disc. Mute and Gavin Friday have generously reached back into the past and dug up enough material to fill a second disc.
A duo of Wilhelm Herich and Brigant Moloch (both of Anenzephalia and also half of Genocide Organ), this new project is unsurprisingly bleak and gray synth heavy industrial. It does, however, separate itself pretty well from the duo’s other projects by focusing less on oppressive atmospheres and noise outbursts and more on a depressive rhythmic pulse and a focus on their industrial heritage.
At four pieces spread across three separate CDs, the term "sprawling" immediately came to my mind with this set. Even though it is a lengthy recording, the pieces are so distinct and different from one another that it is a challenging, but rewarding listen.
The latest album to feature Chris Watson shows a different side to his art, harking back to his roots in Cabaret Voltaire and The Hafler Trio while staying true to his current role as a field recorder. The two pieces (one a collaboration with Marcus Davidson and the other a solo work) are both designed as performance pieces utilising Watson’s recordings of nature as the source. However, trickery and aesthetics play a role here that has been absent from his body of work for a long, long time. It sounds like you are there but "there" is not as it seems.
Out of retirement, off of hiatus, back for another round—whatever you call it, Lamb's newest full length is as good as it is unexpected. After exploding into the world with a classic debut album, it has taken the band four more shots to come up with a worthy follow up, but they have finally done it.
Recorded and rebuilt over half a decade ago, this odd little collaboration between Wastell, a cellist who for this album plays only a tam-tam gong, and everyone's favorite Norwegian noise master on processing and composition, finally sees the light of day on this single track album. Over the course of 40 minutes, the single instrument source is bent and reshaped so much that it bears little to no resemblance to its untreated counterpart, and that’s why this work succeeds.
