We have finally cleared out the backlog of great music and present some new episodes.
Episode 711 features music from The Jesus and Mary Chain, Zola Jesus, Duster, Sangre Nueva, Dialect, The Bug, Cleared, Mount Eerie, Mulatu Astatke & Hoodna Orchestra, Hayden Pedigo, Bistro Boy, and Ibukun Sunday.
Episode 712 has tunes by Mazza Vision, Waveskania, Black Pus, Sam Gendel, Benny Bock, and Hans Kjorstad, Katharina Grosse, Carina Khorkhordina, Tintin Patrone, Billy Roisz, and Stefan Schneider, His Name Is Alive, artificial memory trace, mclusky, Justin Walter, mastroKristo, Başak Günak, and William Basinski.
Episode 713 brings you sounds from Mouse On Mars, Leavs, Lawrence English, Mo Dotti, Wendy Eisenberg, Envy, Ben Lukas Boysen, Cindytalk, Mercury Rev, White Poppy, Anadol & Marie Klock, and Galaxie 500.
Skolavordustigur Street in Reykjavík photo by Jon (your Podcast DJ).
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artist: Conrad Schnitzler title: Klavierhelm catalog #: IMPREC113 format: cd upc: 793447511429 release date: October 24, 2006
Conrad Schnitzler is a genuine legend in the krautrock and electronic music worlds. Schnitzler studied under Joseph Beuys before joining an early Tangerine Dream. Their first album Electronic Meditation shows a band highly influenced by Schnitzler's unique, singular approach. Schnitzler left Tangerine Dream to form Kluster with friends Dieter Moebius and Hans Joachim Roedelius. When Schnitzler left Kluster they changed their name to Cluster eventually merging with Michael Rother (of Neu!) to form Harmonia, a group who Brian Eno once called the most important rock group on the planet. Schnitzler also founded Eruption in 1970 along with Klaus Schultz, Manuel Gottsching (Ash Ra Tempel), and Klaus Freudigmann.
Looking back at Conrad Schnitzler's career it becomes obvious that he was an architecht who helped draw the blueprints for some very significant musical movements. Perhaps overlooked, or at least desperately underappreciated, it hasn't slowed Schnitzler down. Since leaving Kluster Conrad Schnitzler has composed dillegently for electronics and piano. Now located in Dallgow Germany he continues to accumulate equiptment and recordings of what he says is “cold, hard electonic sound.” The piano is certainly an instrument with which Conrad Schnitzler is not often associated. However, his compositions on Klavierhelm exhibit his highly expressive and free approach to the piano. Calling to mind Erik Satie and Cage, Cecil Taylor and even Carl Stalling. Limited edition of 1000. Cover design by Conrad Schnitzler.
This mostly exhaustive triple-disc set spans four decades of Loren MazzaCane Connors' work, collecting 7" and 12" singles, compilation tracks, private CD-Rs, collaborations and unreleased pieces. For an artist with such a large and intimidating back catalog as Connors', Night Through serves as a perfect introduction, cutting straight through the uniqe avant-primitive guitarist's baffling discography, showcasing a variety of approaches, and by its very nature focusing on shorter, more approachable pieces.
Perhaps because of his extreme prolificacy, his idiosyncratic and often intuitive approach to blues guitar, or his early reticence to reveal much about his musical project, Loren Connors is most often compared to Jandek by those trying to situate the artist in a generic context. Although the last few years have seen a couple of surprise collaborations between Connors and the mystery man from Corwood, the comparison of the two artists is a red herring, in my opinion. Jandek's music is bleak and tuneless, and whether by coincidence or design, is virtually unlistenable to all but the most courageous. Connors, though he has produced much work that could only be described as experimental or avant-garde, never seems to become completely untethered from a bedrock of melody, tunefulness and emotive, expressive phrasing. Even after all these years, Jandek and his guitar seem uncomfortably alienated from each other; where Connors and his guitar seem on the closest terms possible. Even when Connors painstakingly puils the most strained, atonal vibrato bottleneck drones out of his instrument, man and guitar seem as one, and the playing never reaches my ears sounding purposely befuddling, as does much of the modern improv scene.
Loren Connors' early work consists of successive mutations of a particular idiom of blues, specifically the bottleneck style of Robert Johnson and other Mississippi Delta blues musicians. Out this haunted, primitive twang, Connors gradually developed an idiosyncratic style that is totally unique without sounding the least bit affected. Though the style inevitably carries with it suggestions of the American primitive style as defined by Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk Music, and also of the sound that has come to signify the haunted plains of the mythical American frontier, there is never a sense that this style is not organic to Connors himself. It is unselfconscious and hypnotic, a reservoir of fragile sound that carries with it a cultural memory that only strengthens its meditative power. Connors is capable at times of sounding like two or three guitarists playing at once, high trebly curling overtones matched by acoustic strumming underneath, sunburnt electric squalls kicking out sprays of swamp mud with each lick, and undercurrents of drone created by feedback and low-fidelity recording equipment. Night Through does a fantastic job of charting Connors' trajectory, from the early bottlenecking of singles like "Come On In My Kitchen" and "Ribbon O'Blues," to the manic-depressive high-lonesome wail of "Saoirse (Freedom)," to the more abstractly progressive suites such as the nine-part "Stations of the Cross" that takes up a good bit of the first disc. It is with much interest that I note the fact that Connors' recordings, presumably by design, become more low-fidelity as the decades pass, with layers of tape fuzz and blunted amplifier distortion contributing the grainy atmosphere suggested by Connors' dusty, resonating electric guitar figures. As inspiration, Connors tackles blues standards or traditional registers; or alternately, creates improvised pieces inspired by historical events with personal resonance, such as the Irish famine or Biblical scenarios; bits from verse from Keats or art exhibitions by friends and associates serve as fodder for other tracks.
Appearing on disc two of this set is a 15-minute live performance by Haunted House (originally released in a CD-R limited to 30 copies), a group comprising Connors, Suzanne Langille, Andrew Burnes and Neel Murgai. Its amazing to witness how easily Connors made the transition from lone-wolf solo blues guitar to playing within the group context, and Haunted House consistently create the sort of hypnotic avant-rock that would win the admiration of Thurston Moore, Alan Licht, Keiji Haino and Jim O'Rourke, all of whom eventually collaborated with Connors. The performance included here is particularly electric, Connors leading the fray with some absolutely, frighteningly possessed lead guitars, whining, clawing and hammering his way across the cerebral cortex in a series of solos that are so senseless, they make all the sense in the world.
Ending with a strange and luminous two-part wah-wah pedal tribute to Miles Davis that sends out gaseous arcs of rippling, textural soundwaves, this triple-disc set attests to the genius of Connors' particular soundworld. It is well-known by now that Connors was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in the early 90s, but paradoxically this diagnosis seems to have resulted in a flurry of activity, and the past few years have seen a record number of solo and collaborative works issued on labels like Table of the Elements. But if anyone asked me where to start with Connors, I'd have to point them towards this set. It's a remarkably sequenced and packaged set that showcases the career of one of the avant-garde's most approachable outsiders.
Another solid release from Mono, this time a collaboration with another Tokyo artist by the name of World's End Girlfriend. The music is as good as I expect from Mono, as there’s no departure from the sound they’ve cultivated on previous releases. I would like to see some exploration of their sound but the familiarity is comforting.
Palmless Prayer/Mass Murder Refrain is essentially one large piece split across five long tracks (well it feels like one piece, the two titles would suggest otherwise but it’s hard to tell where one piece would end and the other begins). It is a slow and melancholic piece of music that changes subtly throughout the album. It is the kind of album that I find is best appreciated by giving it full attention on headphones late at night. Like the rest of MONO’s output, it is that slick “soundtrack to a movie where all of civilisation has crumbled and only a few are left to struggle against the elements” sound. One striking thing about this release is that for a collaboration, it sounds remarkably like just MONO on their own. I’ve no idea what world’s end girlfriend add to the album apart from a suitably apocalyptic name.
The first two parts of Palmless Prayer/Mass Murder Refrain are slow, meditative string pieces that explore variations of the same melody. It is a peaceful and relaxing 25 minutes of music, I could quite happily listen to a whole CD of it. However on the third part MONO up the ante and change the direction of the piece, introducing guitar and building the music up slowly into a throbbing… They eventually pull back and return to the style of the first two parts but add piano and voices to the strings. All of the music is intensely sad and it is this tugging of the heart strings that brings MONO up from being a cliché to being a formidable group in their own right.
The fifth and final part of Palmless Prayer/Mass Murder Refrain is the longest, clocking in at nearly twenty minutes. Starting with a similar piano and strings pattern to “Part Four” it builds up with bass, guitar and drums into the closest thing to a happy feeling that MONO have ever produced. Although it is also the weakest part of the album which makes me think that being miserable is far more entertaining than being happy. It does round off the album satisfactorily but it is a little anticlimactic compared to the rest of the album.
While it’s not Mono's finest, it certainly deserves to be on the shelf next to their other albums. Although I must say I still can’t fathom what world’s end girlfriend bring to the table.
Tortoise is the latest '90s independent supergroup to issue a generous collection of three CDs (of hard to find music) and one DVD (a complete assembly of music videos with other things). Where Stereolab has issued collections before, it was understood there were things to be saved for the next compilation; Low left nothing out, but Tortoise forgot some critically important pieces of their history, hence this imaginary compilation to fill the gaps.
unreleased (this is an imaginary record)
It's important to first establish that A Lazarus Taxon is an essential piece in any fan's collection. Whether they be mild to hardcore the assembly of music isn't only the painfully difficult to get, or, in some cases, previously unreleased, but the compilation tracks and singles like "Gamera," "Goriri," and "Why We Fight" are some of the finer moments of '90s independent rock music. Not only is the long deleted tour-only Rhtyhms, Resolutions, and Clusters remix album available again BUT it is finally indexed so we aren't forced into a 30-minute multi-song single-track CD. Packaged at a price lower than most two CD sets, I can't make any strong arguments against A Lazarus Taxon (despite the order being sloppily arranged with no regard to chronology—sorry, but "Cliff Dweller Society" only sounds proper following "Gamera" while "Adverse Camber" and "To Day Retrieval" need to sit next to each other). But there's more to the Tortoise story.
A Lazarus Companion begins at the genesis of the group. "Mosquito," "Onions Wrapped In Rubber," and "Gooseneck" compose the first 7" single. Forced into the time constraints, the group gives it their all, establishing themselves with multi-bass guitar action, polyrhythmic drums, dub echoes, and just a little bit extra weirdness (backwards effects and non-instrument noises) to set it apart. With the second single, Tortoise pretty much began something they couldn't quite accept until 12 years later: "Lonesome Sound" is a Freakwater cover tune with vocals and all and wouldn't sound out of place on The Brave and the Bold. One of the tunes on the flipside, "Sheets," on the other hand pursued that weird side again with more unconventional music but the vocals were so close to Brian McMahon's in Slint, it seemed like an appropriate move to get that guitarist from Slint to join the group!
From 1993, we jump to 1997, and a string of remixes. D's remix of "Why We Fight" originally appeared on a Lo Recordings compilation titled United Mutations. "Bionic Beatbox" comes from a 1998 album Techno Animal vs. Reality and is the first time here that we see the Tortoise tacked onto somebody else's song. 1998 was the year we saw Tortoise playing more with electronics all around, evidenced on the TNT album and "Madison Ave," the A-Side to a tour-only 7" single that went around with the band that year. "In Sarah, Mencken, Christ and Beethoven There Were Women and Men" got reworked by a different D (techno legend Derrick Carter) who supplies both sides of the 12" on A Lazarus Companion: "D's Winter Crazy Dub" is nearly 10 minutes of extended goodness. It's an exploitation of a great riff with additional instruments which never drive us away from the original tune. Its other side, "D's Winter Crazy Outtake" features a classy piano solo and seems far richer for a song only approximately half the other side's length. "Jetty 99" comes from a compilation titled Chicago 2018...It's Gonna Change and is the second Tortoise version of this "Jetty" song which ended up on an alarming number of different albums by different side projects in different interpretations. This version is probably the one to least resemble the original, however.
"In a Thimble" is one of those songs that makes me scratch my head as to its lack of inclusion, as it's a fantastic full-band song that came off the Reach the Rock soundtrack in 1999. "Defect 2: Curiosidade" is a Tom Zé tune remixed by Tortoise, sounding like how a Tortoise song with Tom Zé on the vocals should sound. Those of us fortunate enough to catch two tours of Tortoise with Tom Zé are still anxiously awaiting an album or something between the two but are only left with this one track, from Zé's Postmodern Platos EP.
A Lazarus Companion closes with the MGM tiger roar opening the song "Beautiful Love," as featured on the Moog soundtrack compilation. It highlights a different side of Tortoise to what they released to the world that year in 2004: the album It's All Around You. "Beautiful Love" is very beat-punchy with a dubby electro bass line and a prominent synth riff similar to "Seneca," the stellar opening to 2001's Standards album.
Don't look for this CD in a store near you nor on the "Internets" but maybe with enough persuasion the group will eventually just give these tracks away if they don't plan on compiling them on the next collection, which I doubt will happen any time soon.
Whether or not Hella’s freakouts would transfer from their overamplified electric environment to an acoustic one has never been a question that’s plagued me. However Hella have chosen to answer the question anyway. This EP shows that a good Hella song doesn’t need a large amount of electricity powering it to make it work. I’d go so far to say that the pared down approach is the best approach for them.
Acoustics is brief but perfectly formed, right down to the fantastically perverse sleeve showing a stage by stage melting of a chocolate bunny. The six pieces are taken from Hella’s The Devil Isn’t Red and Hold Your Horse Is albums. These pieces don’t need any life pumped into them as the original versions are great to start with but these new recordings do make them sound more exciting purely by the novelty of them being acoustic.
When the novelty wears off they still sound good. In fact, in a couple of the cases the new versions are better than the originals. “Women of the 90’s” and “Biblical Violence” both work much better on Acoustics than they did before. Same can be said of “1-800-Ghost Dance” on which Hella up the tempo slightly which gives the piece a much needed kick in the backside. I must admit that some of the pieces do lack the punch of the originals like “The Devil Isn’t Red” which lacks the aggression that runs through the electric version but the gentler vibe suits the piece so no reason to complain.
What appealed to me most about Acoustics was how much more alive the music sounds when it is stripped back to the bare essentials. The production is cleaner on these recordings, the finer parts of Spencer Seim’s technique is usually masked by distortion but here it is possible to actually hear him playing the guitar. Zach Hill’s drumming sounds more chaotic and energetic but it is not always mixed as well as it could be. There are times where it sounds flat but this is the exception more than the rule.
Acoustics is one of the best things Hella have done. I’ve a feeling this will grow on me even more, listening to the older recordings while reviewing this has made them dull now. This EP will definitely be getting a lot of spins around my place.
While Japan may have birthed some of the most elegant and elegiac experimental rock of this decade so far, it has also seen a rise in acts that tear massive holes in speakers and fry amp cables. Taking this disc as evidence, this trio of Yamamoto Seiichi (Boredoms), Tatsuya Yoshida (Ruins), and Tsuyama Atsushi (Acid Mothers Temple) appear in the latter category. Few bands can safely combine the excitement of rock while negotiating the worlds of traditional music and out-there wig outs.
Where there last album, Close to the RH Kiki, saw them progged up to the hilt with covers, this is a set of six wired for nosebleed originals. The first two tracks race along in a bonged up jam session style, all gangly limbs and pruned Afros, into lurching progressive funk territory. There are several bumpy side routes roads taken through ecstatic soloing and enthusiastic wailin’ and a hollerin’. It doesn’t take long before the trio gel, spitting out tight high harmonies and spacey reverb amongst the choppy guitar playing.
Things get a little odder with "Elsewhere" with the introduction of piano, cracked betamax electrics and flute. This falling downstairs vibe strips itself back to washboard percussion and a wordless operatic section ending, finally throttling itself in a punk funk thing. "Nowhere" follows this route, split between Japanese folk and balls outside of trousers rocking. Bizarrely, there are moments here that slip into textbook Red Hot Chili Peppers sound before finding synth horns and a drunken marching band sound. The further you get into the LP, the more there is to find, there’s even a tip of the hat to Hendrix’s "Star-Spangled Banner." Ruinzhatova are constantly moving.
Singer/songwriter Alex Lukashevsky has a decent gravelly voice and his tongue-in-cheek lyrics are frequently entertaining, which makes it all the more disappointing that these hints of potential go unfulfilled on this album.
Many of the tracks betray stilted songwriting, with changes that feel arbitrary. In addition, much of his guitar playing seems hesitant, and the vocal melodies frequently don’t go well with the music. He has a husky voice that’s often easy on the ears, but he sings in the same way so often on these tracks that even that asset becomes an irritation. Sometimes Lukashevsky adds other instruments to the mix, like a xylophone or a keyboard, yet these usually don’t contribute very much.
One of the better tracks is the odd cover of Verdi’s "La Donna È Mobile" with a fuller arrangement compared to Lukashevsky’s own material, but this song is out of place on a somewhat folky, guitar-based album. The other songs are slow in comparison, if not stagnant. About half-way through the disc, I started getting annoyed with his voice and couldn’t help but feel that a lot of these tracks are incomplete or rushed. "Terror of Compassion" is a decent acoustic white boy blues until Lukashevsky rhymes "compassion" with "passion," leaving the song little credibility. One of the more palatable tracks is "Butterknife Night" with its delicate windchimes adding a nice texture, but the effect is too undifferentiated and at almost nine minutes long loses its appeal. On "I Gotta Right," Lukashevsky sings, "I got a right/To sing the blues," but that doesn’t mean anyone needs to hear him do so.
He does have talent, but here it’s too unfocused to have much value.
The new album from Norway's Kaada is the perfect soundtrack for break-ups, homesickness, or rainy day navel-gazing. Since there isn't that much going on that commands attention, it's an album that's not distracting during moments of introspection.
Even though the group has a variety of orchestral instruments at their disposal, their statements are more atmospheric than melodic. Voices are used infrequently, but when they do show up, they usually accent the song with wordless pitches rather than lyrics. One of the few exceptions is "Mainstreaming," light fare which adapts words from the Ninth Century Moslem poet Sidna Ali. I can't argue that the music isn't played well, yet nothing about the album strikes me as distinctive or alluring. There's a sameness found on most of the tracks that makes them individually forgettable even as they contribute to the album's singular mood of general sadness. Beyond that, the specifics are difficult to determine, as if the group tries to encompass a few additional emotions within each song but fails to encapsulate the song's true intention.
I'm also a little confused about the "moviebiker" in the title because there's certainly nothing in the music remotely rebellious along the lines of The Wild One or Easy Rider. In fact, the album's so tame that I could safely play any of the tracks for my grandmother. Who knows, she might even enjoy songs like "The Mosquito and the Abandoned Old Woman" or "Retirement Community" more than I did. In a way, this album is like musical cotton candy. Despite some passages of delicate sweetness, these moments are too ephemeral to register and leave me with an earful of fluff.
This live recording from 1999 features Oren Ambarchi on guitar and Robbie Avenaim on percussion. Originally released in a small quantity as a 3” disc that same year, this single track is an 18-minute improvisation that isn’t too far from a clock that winds up and then springs apart, exposing the underbelly of gears and sprockets that keep it functioning.
The song begins and ends with a gong, imposing symmetry on the structure not found elsewhere within the piece. The first half of the song belongs mostly to Ambarchi with its pulsating drones and overtones. Avenaim’s percussion, apart from the gong, consists of metallic pitches ringing from a variety of objects. The beginning is a little static, but the song gets stronger as it progresses, picking up the pace about halfway through with more rattling from Avenaim. Here the duo strikes a perfect balance, not necessarily reacting to each other’s playing so much as contributing to the same clattering, mechanical impulse. As the percussion gets tuneful, the song grows more intriguing, culminating in a climax determined to disrupt time itself. The latter half in particular makes me wish I could have seen this performance, and wondering what other blissful moments I may have missed.
I would be telling a big fat lie if I said that I predicted this would be Mouse On Mars' next move, despite the live show they put on during their most recent, but extremely brief North American tour giving every indication.
Mouse On Mars was back to the core duo of Jan and Andi, performing a set reminiscent of the first time I saw them live probably about ten years ago. Singer/drummer Dodo was on hiatus ("on assignment" as the newscasts always claim) and what remained was two guys bopping around on some killer modular gear, making fun beats and mangling noises into a polyrhythmic soup that even the experimental/noise geeks were digging. (Keith Whitman claims to have seen me dancing but I'll deny it under oath.)
For years the duo have been charting the more pop side of electronica, using vocals and live drumming to make song collections which had easily extractable tunes for commercial ambitions (see "Blood Comes" from Radical Connector or "Actionist Respoke" from Idiology). Varcharz, on the other hand is a lot more raw, free-flowing, and strings all nine songs together in a way that's difficult to pull apart. Stylistically, the album switches back and forth between the more abstract and the more accessible, with the opener electronic mayhem of "Chartnok" and the thrashing chunky "Düül" surrounded by the sexy groove of "Igoegowhygowego" and candy factory rhythms of "Inocular." "Skik" is built on what could easily be Atari video game music, exploited and repurposed before the alien disco known as "Hi Fienlin" muscles its way in. "Bertney" is the tuneful masterpiece however that I think will please any fan of classics like "Frosch" but the two songs that follow, "Ratphase" and "One Day, Not Today" are pretty wacked out, both on the weirder side of their spectrum.
While I love this record, in all honesty it's probably not one I'd play for one of my more mainstream co-workers to try and get them to one of their shows. For fans it's a great representation of their live sound and a good document for when they play and somebody comes up and says "hey, do you have any records that sounds like what I heard tonight?" Rather than go into lengthy explanations, they can easily hand them Varcharz now.
We are pleased to re-release one of the most popular albums in the Nurse With Wound discography. Originally released in 1999, 'An Awkward Pause' adds David Tibet, Christoph Heemann, Colin Potter and Petr Vastl (Aranos) to the mix, resulting in an extremely unique sounding and dare we say, rocking release.
This 2 CD set is released in a deluxe 6 panel digifile and adds a second disc of all previously unreleased tracks. Most interesting for Nurse fans is the fact that one of the tracks allows the listener to take all the elements and mix their own version of 'Two Shaves and a Shine'! Absolutely essential!
Tracklisting:
An Awkward Pause: Intravenous * Two Shaves and a Shine (concerto for bouzouki and 3 piece rock group in 93 six second segments) * The Penis Fruit Loop * Lunar Cement Sidewalk * Mummer's Little Weeper
bonus disc: Mummer's Little Weeper (Kinky whim demo) * Intravenous (Unrefined component no. 1) * Disposition One * Intravenous (Unrefined component no. 2) * Disposition Two * Penis Fruit Loop (Bald and beardless version) * Intravenous (Plump aerospheric mix) * Disposition Three * Intravenous (Unrefined component no. 3) * Two Shaves and a Shine (Original archaic demo) * Two Shaves and a Shine (Ingredients) Create your own track! * Two Shaves and a Shine (Bastard disco version) * Mummer's Little Weeper (Mud ooze sloth mix)
We are now taking pre-orders in our shop. Price: US $ 19.99