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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The second album since the adoption of the more formal sounding name of Carter Tutti is a strange beast. The title of the album made me expect a more violent and frenetic style but the duo show that being feral is not all about bared teeth and naked aggression. Feral can be more beautiful and tender than any tamed creature or thought. The music is wild in that it is free from much outside influence. Immediately it is obvious that no matter what the name on the CD case is, this is the same animal at heart.
There is a delicate and serene mood to Feral Vapours of the Silver Ether; the quiet piano melody of "Torn Window" is one of the loveliest things Carter and Tutti have done under any name. The imagery Cosey employs throughout the album is equally gorgeous; metaphysical and poetic at the same time, the ghost of William Blake haunting her lyrics. Almost a whisper and full of hope, her vocals are very much the silver ether of the album's title. Her voice is perfectly matched by her mournful cornet blasts, as primal as always but with a more controlled force. Chris Carter's electronic treatments and rhythms are barely there but add definition to the airy atmospheres, like thin embellishments with oils on a watercolour painting.
Compared to Chris and Cosey's other big album of the year (Throbbing Gristle's Part Two: The Endless Not), this is a far more satisfying release. Where I found the new TG to be good but far from a return to form (especially after the excellent TG Now from a couple of years ago), Feral Vapours… is as solid as any of Chris and Cosey's previous releases. There are some similar sonic territories being explored here as on Part Two (as expected really), the quieter and jazzier side of Part Two evidently owed a lot to this half of the group. "Breathless Endings" is of a similar vibe to TG's "Rabbit Snare"; a kind of dark blue.
With Feral Vapours…, Carter Tutti continue to progress. The pastoral approach they have adopted in recent years is as engaging as the more robust and danceable beats of Chris and Cosy. In all honesty I prefer this new approach, much like when Coil embraced their moon music fully and entered the most interesting part of their career. Whether this is going to be a long-term engagement with the gentler side of their music is anyone's guess but for now Carter Tutti are definitely piquing my interest more than Chris & Cosey did.
I cannot say I am a hip hop guru (hip hop is for the most part is one of those "must investigate at a later date" areas of music for me) but I know what I like and I like Northern State. Although their new album is not consistently great, the bits that shine are bright enough to obscure the weaker moments. The album is fairly formulaic but these ladies have a charm which lets them carry the songs off.
Despite the feelings of musical inertia I sometimes get from Can I Keep This Pen? in terms of pushing the creative envelope, it is still an entertaining album. The rhymes are not bad; in some places they are geeky and funny, in others they are sharp and serious but they never really have as much of a bite as they could. Songs like "Better Already" and "Away Away" are cracking pieces of pop, the chorus on the latter is particularly good. Some of the brasher tracks such as "Cold War" do not sit quite well with me but I would not go so as to say that I dislike them; they just don't have the same magnetism as the better parts of the album.
Taking pot shots at conservative America, "Sucka MoFo" makes references to pro-life Republican voters driving gas-guzzling vehicles. Not to belittle these topics but lines poor political choices come across as easy targets. Then again, mainstream hip hop is all about buying the big eco-unfriendly cars and wasting money on bad jewellery (speaking of which, there is a great line early on: "You got a sweat suit and you're dripping with diamonds/Tell me are you a rapper or a mom from Long Island?") so Northern State come across as positively radical.
While Can I Keep This Pen? is not a breath of fresh air in terms of an imaginative approach to rap, it is at least a gust of fresh air in terms of pop music that I can relate to. Musically Northern State have a lot more in common with normal indie rock bands with the majority of songs being driven by guitar riffs that Bernard Sumner would be proud of. This is probably the hook that has caught me as I find a lot of hip hop backing tracks tough to listen to. Whether pandering to nerdy white boys is a good or a bad thing is a moot point, all that really matters is that this is a fun and enjoyable album.
Coming so soon after their exquisite Vintage Burden and their Electricity Ghost outtakes collection, this is an album that Charalambides could have done without dropping. The solo work of both Tom and Christina Carter is evolving at a furious pace, releases coming monthly that both investigate and fulfil their countless ideas. If rumor is to be believed, these songs were recorded live in one take and then overdubbed with numerous effect and layers. It is in this extra work that the fault lies, leaving Likeness in the void between song and improv.
This halfway house between posts sounds like a great idea on paper, the fleshing out of both instinct and chemistry with time and detail. The lack of fragility in much of Tom Carter's playing means the album is weighed down, the overdubs becoming a pair of concrete boots. The over-gesticulating guitar is amongst some of the most out-of-place playing in Charalambides career, the work on "Figs and Oranges" and the finale of "Cloudy Day" is almost Knopfler-esque in its obviousness. The song's almost ethereal double tracing gets close to freer Charalambides, but doesn't quite make it.
Almost every song here has a single element that traps the song in its infancy. In the case of "Do You See?," Christina's more or less stentorian delivery might soften as it multiplies but it is already too late. Much like MV & EE on their recent Gettin' Gone album, Charalambides have seemingly sought out the '60s-'70s spectrum as opposed to any of primitive and experimental forms. Struggling between form and freedom the album sounds like neither. It is possible that some of the original stripped versions of these tracks might have made a better Likeness, but that is just idle speculation; this album simply doesn't made the grade that the band set themselves over the years.
A solo work from Hototogisu/Double Leopards member Marcia Bassett sounds exactly like the photo on the cover: dark, gray, and sinisterly mysterious. And it excels at living up to these adjectives.
Across the four untitled tracks, Bassett sticks to building mini-dramas out of dark, heavily effected guitar work. The exception is the first track, which is instead reminiscent of an ancient music box playing after being under years of grime and decay. A gentle melody is obviously there, but it is covered in thick, viscousy textures of noise that are almost tangible. The track is more about the effects and distortion instead of the melody, or at least it was the element that drew the attention of these ears. The other tracks tend to lean more on the guitar end of things, such as the second track's guitar feedback drone that stretches from the track, off into the horizon and into infinity that, as the time clicks away, becomes darker and more frightening with each minute.
The third track is a bit harsher, swelling distorted guitar riffs that loom like the monolith riffing of drone poster boys Sunn O))), but from a distance far, far away. The riffs slowly crawl across the cold night air, slowly becoming more and more psychedelic into dissolving into pure madness. The progression from the gentle opening into increasing darkness and violence reaches its logical conclusion in the unfortunately too short final track of pure unabashed guitar noise. Rather than just being an exercise in pure feedback squeal, it instead has a distant, alien quality to it that makes it much more unique and compelling.
Zaimph's latest entry in Utech's Arc series continues both the series' focus on experimental artists who are not necessarily the most well known but are at the top of their game, as well as attention to detail in gorgeous, minimalist packaging that gives the series its uniform look. As the series is drawing to its end, it shows no sign of letting up in its brilliance, and Bassett's installment is testament to that.
Travel as a theme in art is practically as old as whatever art form in question itself. The idea of moving from a known place to a foreign one can be seen as fascinating, alienating, exciting, and completely frightening. Those adjectives are also surprisingly well fitting to describe this compilation as well. Though it is focused on traveling by plane, the same feelings are there and, just like a flight, it is fascinating, interesting, and yes, occasionally boring and mundane.
The artists were all asked to integrate field recordings created by Room40 label head Lawrence English of the Brisbane International Airport. While these recordings need not be the sole content of the recordings, they were supposed to be a notable element of the final tracks. The participant list reads like a veritable who's who of current electronic composers: David Grubbs, Francisco Lopez, David Grubbs, Christian Fennesz, etc. They all use the various flight recordings to very different effects, all of which are consistent with their own styles.
As I indicated before, the music reflects the multiple emotions one can feel as an air traveler. Richard Chartier's contribution, "Retrieval_Path," taps in to the fascination that is flight: subtle treatments of engine noise reduced to high pitch digital tones, layered into rhythmic rings that are gentle, yet complex. Taylor Deupree's "Fear of Flying" takes the travel concept to a more literal end, the opening of crowd noises and people talking are just like the pre-flight conversations expected from a plane, distant flight information over a loud speaker as chiming digital tones enter the mix, and eventually dominate the mix, mimicking the mechanical roars and hums of a plane as it takes off into the sky.
Christian Fennesz also takes a more musical approach, shaping layered tracks of processed engine noise into vaguely musical structures, and adding in snippets of dialog to add to the proceedings. Marc Beherens is more cinematic with "3 Winged Zones," the sounds of engines powering up and wind pushed into overdrive to create thick walls of dense noise over phased tones, then stripped down to a more moderate level, with tones like distant warning beacons (or even crickets) in the distance.
As aforementioned, at times flight can be frightening, and Christopher Willits contribution "Plane" is the best example of that. Opening with very little more than the narration of flight attendants giving the preflight instructions over an intercom, the mundane elements of the preflight ritual before launching head first into a wall of noise and distortion that is shocking as an actual plane crash would be. Similarly, Toshiya Tsunoda's "Peak to Peak" is also a jarring experience. On the surface the name could represent travel from one mountain to another, but I assume it is more specifically leveled at the landscape of a digital representation for the track: Long gaps of near silence are met with harsh outbursts of noise, acting as the visual representation of said peaks.
Flights can be boring as well, and a few of the tracks do not feel as if they go too far beyond the source material to be as captivating as the more outstanding ones. The track by Burkhard Beins, "Tarmac Berlin Edit," treats the passing of planes overhead with so little that it does not feel as if there was anything really changed from the initial recordings. Jason Kahn's "Transit" has a similar feel, with only basic filtering/eq'ing of engine noise over simple, sustained digital tones. Nothing about the less fascinating tracks is bad; it is more a factor of being lined up with the more interesting ones being a detriment. And, hey, in travel there are some places that one is extremely excited to go, and others are just a destination.
Airport Symphony makes for an interesting work on both a conceptual, and an entertaining level. While by its very nature it is somewhat esoteric and difficult, the thematic link of concepts makes it one that more people can relate to from previous experience, and should use that background to check it out and give it a try, because it is a very well done and remarkable compilation.
This japanoise supergroup was formed in 2003, pooling the talents of Hiroshi Hasegawa (Astro & C.C.C.C.) on voice and synth, Maso Yamazaki of Masonna on guitar and voice, and Nobuko Emi on drums. This is their debut album and features four live recordings taped in various venues in Osaka and Tokyo between 2003 and 2006.
I am not a fan of live albums as a rule, as they are invariably crude documents completely divorced from all the elements that make gigs and events successful and rarely do they do the artists any justice; moreover they always leave me a tad disappointed. Noise albums, however, present something of a dichotomy, as by definition they are collisions of unstructured chaos and the element of the accidental plays an enormous part. So one could quite legitimately posit the idea that the vagaries and limitations of the recording process in a live situation become part of the performance as well, adding a further layer to the end result.
SSD assail from the get go. The usual tropes of the genre are there: unrelenting guitar distortion and feedback; electronic screechings, blips, growls and drones; along with shouts and screams batter the listener in an ear-bleeding aural assault. It is a one-sided sonic battle intended no doubt to crush the senses into submission, drilling into the skull and vacuum-cleaning the brains out through the resultant aperture, machine-like in its inhuman intensity and industrial brutality; no amount of pleading and begging will stay their course. The machines will go on until every last one of us is extinct and quite likely they will then turn on themselves and each other because there will be nothing else left for them. It is complete mayhem just for the joy of indulging in wanton mayhem and it seems that just like the ethos of fellow noise artists C.C.C.C. there is no attempt here at intellectualism, just an aggressive form of play, slaughtering with a smile on the face. Even so, there is a distinctly different approach to the aforementioned outfit, instead of a slow unfolding evolution (as displayed on C.C.C.C.'s latest, Chaos is the Cosmos) there is a fast-breeder reactor style of progression: everything being a chain-reaction from one moment to the next; one idea suggesting something else which turn suggests yet another idea in a mushroom cloud of unbridled creativity.
My only complaint is that while I can sense a small glimpse of the sheer exuberance and rawness of an SSD live performance from these recordings, the essential element of being there and experiencing it first-hand is missing, thereby slightly emasculating the power. There's no denying though that it didn't detract a great deal from any appreciation of what was on offer here and that the 'live' recording aspect DID add another crunchy dimension to it. As an introduction to the work of this band it more than suffices and it is obvious from these performances that each musician works well with and plays off each other brilliantly to produce a homogenized and whole aesthetic. However, I would still like to hear a 'studio'-based album to get a fuller flavor of the wall of noise assault that SSD promises on this debut album.This is not saying that this is a bad record, far from it, every second of it is enjoyable and only whets my appetite to go and see them should they ever make it to the shores of of the UK.
I hope that another album is in the works or at least being thought about, but there is no doubt that we will be hearing a lot more from them in the future and for my part that would be very welcome.
Listening to Amidst the Noise and Twigs is like wandering lost in the middle of a forest after discovering that the breadcrumbs leading home are actually beetles that then scamper away and vanish. Luring the listener deeper into the wood are mesmeric melodies and hypnotic chants that both welcome and warn. The siren call is addictive and disorienting, and it's a delirious place in which to be lost.
There are plenty of diversions along the way, including an encounter with a voice that might come from some crazed waterfowl during an ill-advised experiment with a dusty fly agaric specimen on "Splendid Goose." Similarly bizarre is the troll from "She Vang Moon," which sounds none too pleased to have been awakened before getting quasi-mystical with the addition of drones, chants, and pleading drums. "Larslovesnick Farm" is an odd destination where metallic mallets arc overhead until dissolving with a pop, only to be replaced by a squeaky plastic smooch that in turn gives way to snippets of piano melody and a few mooing cows.
The group keeps me mesmerized with hymns of blissful repetition, like "The Sting of Haste." "Before We Came to This Religion" slows the pace but continues the mood by adding lyrics to nervous rattling and tribal whimsy. A certain schoolboy naïveté creeps up on a couple of tracks, particularly in "Burnt Seer," a warped take on rustic folk in which the group sings, "I'm not singing any better/But I'll sing better/And I'll sing better" as if apologizing to a teacher or a parent for falling short of expectations. This feeling of childlike lamentation comes up again on "The Three Twins" as the group brings the album to a majestic climax as if in contrition for some misdeed.
Different styles of music, the juxtaposition of disparate sounds, and the narrative quality of many tracks keep the mood and ideas constantly shifting. Although their intentions are sometimes esoteric, Volcano the Bear convincingly evoke both the exotic and the eerily familiar with the sounds coming from their strange part of the woods.
Ephemera Blues reflects a metaphysical journey through issues of mortality. These superb songs frequently emphasize death's cyclical aspects more often than its dire ones, lending vigor to the search for personal enlightenment. The album is mellow but never dull, earnest and cathartic in its yearning for transcendental validation.
Golden Death Music is the project of Michael Ramey, who is responsible for this album in its entirety. There is actually a lot of variation in the songwriting considering that they were written and performed by only one person. Most of the songs are composed on different guitars and supplemented by washes of electronics, hand drums, and sweeping backing vocals, among other elements. There's definitely a hazy touch of Floyd on Ramey's weary voice, but it is not a distraction. A little echo and reverb go a long way.
The order of the songs reflects this theme of recurring patterns, beginning with "Endless Dream" and "Waking Nightmare," only to end with "The Unmaking" and "Into the Ocean." Each song in between is another step along the path from self-awareness to disintegration. There undoubtedly is a melancholic air pervading many of the tracks, but it is a tired sadness rather than a desperate one. Not even the sun brings hope on "Morning Sun, Mourning Song." Likewise, little comfort comes from relationships with other people, as on "Together," when Ramey sings, "Together/We can finally be apart." The title track is surprisingly uplifting all things considered, as Ramey realizes the closeness of death and thus life's fragility and power. "In Silence" reaches for inner peace, while "True Beauty Is Emptiness" hints at a Buddhist acceptance of the cycle of life. On the surface, these may sound like weighty issues, but the music is never tedious, and the lyrics are personal rather than proscriptive. That Ramey makes such a compelling and eloquent recording out of these topics is an ambitious accomplishment.
I'm also impressed that Ramey recorded the whole thing on inexpensive equipment using only a couple of basic microphones, because his songs have more depth and creative arrangement than do a lot of bigger productions. Special attention to the panning and balances throughout elevates this album to a whole different level. It is one of the most inventive and refreshing things I have heard in quite some time.
Edited down from hours of recordings, this collaboration between America's Sunburned Hand of the Man and Finland's Circle is a thrilling collection of improvisations and jams. Not only is it a great first time partnership but I like it better than a lot of either band's previous recordings. With any luck this is the start of a long-lasting and prolific relationship.
This combination of these two bands works spectacularly well. Both bands retain their own distinctive style but bend their respective methods to fit in with the others' methods. Granted, neither of them had to sacrifice much of their own take on playing as both come from a very similar school of thought where anything goes. The music shifts like scenes in a dream, a solid rhythm one minute falling into a formless squall of delay soaked guitar. The vocals are buried in the mix and are more like cries in the distance than any sort of traditional rock centrepiece.
There is a serious sense of urgency that runs through the first three pieces. This comes to a boil with the frantic jamming on "Heinävelho" where the drums sound like they are being played too fast and too often and everyone is desperately trying to stay together. It sounds incredible, the insistent force of the piece shoving the listener forward whether they want to go or not. This could happily go on for the entire disc but the fadeout at the end of "Vuoren Valloitus" unfortunately brings this chapter of album to a close.
The remainder of The Blaze Game features a looser selection of cuts from the sessions. "Yksi Hirvi, Miljoona Metsästäjää" is undoubtedly the best part of the album (a tall order considering the quality of the other tracks). Here Circle's Krautrocking—which makes their live show so compelling—comes to the fore. The bass leads the rhythm section on and on and on, the other instruments and vocals dance around it before some seriously freaked out saxophone takes things to another level.
I was a bit apprehensive about Sunburned Circle as separately I find both bands to be hit or miss with their studio output. However, these two groups go together like bread and butter. The spark between them seems to come naturally and freely. Each piece becomes its own microcosm where every element of the music works perfectly with the other elements. And one thing that all the tracks have in common is that I could gladly listen to a lot more of any of them. Bearing in mind that these are all culled from longer jams perhaps some day a large box set of unedited recordings might be made available. In the meantime I am more than happy to make do with this fantastic album.
Ben Chasny returns with his tenth album under the Six Organs banner. There is a slightly softer approach compared to The Sun Awakens from last year but thankfully the electric guitar (which has improved the already formidable Six Organs sound no end) has been retained. There are few bands who use such a limited palette of instruments (i.e. just a guitar) for so many albums without sounding repetitive but Chasny can always be counted on to breath new life into those six old strings.
When Six Organs are good, it is awe inspiring and with Shelter from the Ash my awe has well and truly been inspired. The album begins on a mesmerising note with "Alone with the Alone," named and inspired by the Henry Corbin book. Chasny's fingerpicking is sublime; his pull-offs and hammer-ons add a layer of intricacy to the already elaborate fabric of the piece. Gorgeous acoustic guitar makes up the main body of the song and the howling, primal roar of the electric guitar (at first Chasny alone and later with producer Tim Green picking up the axe) adds an element of desperation to the mood. Hushed chants of the song/book's title make the mood seem even bleaker but still enthralling.
"Coming to Get You" is the fiery epicentre of the album. Blistering guitar solos are like smears of paint over the canvas of chugging palm-muted guitar and drum rhythms. The song finishes as a crude but intense portrait of a hellish scene, like Goya if he was in a psychedelic guitar band. Immediately afterwards is the tender and elegiac "Goddess Atonement." The song is dedicated to the late Charles Gocher of the Sun City Girls and would not sound out of place on Torch of the Mystics. The East-meets-West rhythms and melodies do not sound like exploitative exotica (which the Sun City Girls have been often, wrongly, accused of) but a hybrid language like Creole; imbued with its own life.
Six Organs of Admittance may sometimes confound and surprise but disappointment is not a word I associate with Chasny. Thankfully after several runs through Shelter from the Ash my prediction has been proven to be true. This is a captivating album, full of passion and power. Here's to another ten albums.
This EP, snuck on the unexpecting listening populace after a great deal of speculation that there may never be any additional output from the band, seems to herald yet another reinvention. If the sound on this EP is any indication, the forthcoming studio album may very well be the modern Chairs Missing to Send's Neo-Pink Flag.
Although not a drastic shift from 2001's album (as well as Read and Burn 01 and 02), this newer installment is somewhat more subdued and melodic than the post-digital thrash hardcore that "Comet" and "Spent" managed so well. Indeed, the electronic sheen has crumbled away and there is an overarching sense of melody that was obscured by the crunch and feedback before. This is immediately apparent during the opening ambient textures of "23 Years Too Late" that mesh with Graham Lewis' inflected baritone reading from his travel diary over minimal high hat and bass strums. Even the chorus passages, with Colin Newman's snarl set on "calm" and Robert (Gotobed) Grey's fast pace metronomic drumming still feels more subdued than pretty much anything from Send.
The lumbering "Our Time" channels "Lowdown" in its lurch, "the time is short or maybe long" even references that classic track's opening line. However, the synth like lead guitar and Newman's sneering, matter of fact delivery are a bit more "Being Watched" than classic Wire. "No Warning Given" has a bit more sing-songy vocals that are not drastically removed from the more pop oriented Wire Mark II of the mid-1980s. Even the absurdist lyrics are seemingly a descendent of that time ("I'm telling you fella/I wouldn't be in your shoes" could very well be an antecedent of "German Shepherds"). The punchy rhythm and chiming guitar lines help make it one of those perfect Wire songs: difficult and opaque on one level, but catchy and charming on an entirely different one.
The all-to-short disc ends with the plaintive guitar notes and abstract "Desert Diving" with detached readings from Newman that are obviously influenced by his Githead project. While the beginning references the icy subtlety of "Heartbeat," the remainder is more straight ahead pop oriented. The chorus' steady beat and distorted, yet muted guitar lines give it that earworm quality that ensures multiple listening. I should also note that, even though he's often an overlooked member of Wire due to his lack of solo work, Robert's drumming on here is phenomenal: the rhythms stiff, the sound piercing, and captures that perfect essence of sound that made "Fragile" such a perfect track some 30 years ago.
Though the rudimentary credits listing for the disc don't address the issue, this material feels less like studio constructions and more like full on collaborations. While Send was brilliant, it had a very inorganic digital reflection to it, while the sonics here are softer, more natural feeling. Perhaps it was still recorded in four different studios and assembled by Colin Newman in Swim Studios, but the sound and feel seems to indicate otherwise. Regardless, this latest installment of the Read & Burn series is another piece of fascinating music from one of the most consistently brilliant bands in the universe. The fact it is heralding a new studio work (with no tracks from this disc included) surely leads me to think one of the best albums of 2008 will be here soon, and when the band announces the title we will all know what to put on that short list for next year.