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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Originally released on 20 November 1980, the deluxe cassette compilation From Brussels With Love featured 22 exclusive tracks from the front rank of the international avant garde and new wave, as well as several artists from the feted Factory Records stable in Manchester. Although the first proper release on boutique Belgian label Les Disques du Crepuscule, the catalogue number assigned to the project (TWI 007) betrays the fact that the early history of the label (and thus its debut) is a little more involved.
The label had been formed at the beginning of 1980, by Brussels scenesters Michel Duval (an economist by training, and journalist for several arts magazines including En Attendant and Plein Soleil) and Annik Honore (then working in London, but a booker for the seminal Plan K venue, and also writing for En Attendant). A strong cultural link was forged between Brussels and the Factory/Manchester cadre after the Joy Division concerts at Plan K on 16 October 1979 and 17 January 1980, and cemented when A Certain Ratio, Durutti Column and Section 25 performed at Plan K on 26 April. In addition, Brussels band The Names had joined the Factory roster.
Since the Factory bands were so prolific, it was agreed that 'spare' recordings could be released on the Continent via a new label, Factory Benelux. The first three releases were 7" singles by A Certain Ratio (Shack Up), Durutti Column (Lips That Would Kiss) and Section 25 (Haunted), which appeared in August, September and October respectively. All carried dual catalogue numbers (FACBN 1-004, 2-005 and 3-006), which in September 1980 resulted in Factory directors Rob Gretton and Tony Wilson insisting that a clear division should be established between Factory Benelux and Les Disques du Crepuscule, the new label planned by Michel and Annik. At an early stage the duo were joined by gifted designer Benoit Hennebert. Crepuscule, of course, translates as 'twilight', an evocative name suggested by Annik. The two labels shared a de facto office at 32 Avenue des Phalenes, 1050 Brussels.
The first true Crepuscule release was a deluxe cassette/booklet package, From Brussels With Love. Compiled between July and October, this stylish 80 minute compilation arrived housed in a plastic wallet and reflected current musical events in Manchester, London and Brussels during the middle months of 1980. In May Joy Division singer Ian Curtis took his own life, leaving the remaining three members to re-group as New Order, who entered the studio for the first time in June as backing musicians for Factory troubadour Kevin Hewick. Bill Nelson and Richard Jobson came into contact with Crepuscule for the first time on 27 June, after playing at a Cocteau-themed event at Plan K, at which Vini Reilly of The Durutti Column also performed. London band Repetition joined Crepuscule via Annik and (surprisingly) found themselves produced by Rob Gretton, while A Certain Ratio contributed a live track taped at Hurrah's in September, during the first Factory trip to New York, another cultural watershed for all involved.
Besides Factory, another crucial influence on From Brussels With Love was radio producer and new music composer Wim Mertens, whose book American Minimal Music had just been published by Kahn & Averill. The featured interview with Brian Eno had been recorded by Wim in New York in June 1979, as was the recording by Phill Niblock. It's therefore hardly surprising that Michael Nyman and Gavin Bryars also agreed to contribute tracks. Mertens would make his own debut on Crepuscule (initially as Soft Verdict) the following year. Eno's Obscure label was another key influence on early Crepuscule.
The compilation was purposefully international in scope, with France (Radio Romance), Belgium (The Names), Germany (Der Plan) and even Scotland (Richard Jobson) all represented, as well as the more familiar British and American contingents. The design, too, was seductively Continental, with text printed in a variety of languages, and copious line/cartoon illustrations by Jean-Francois Octave which reflected the Belgian and French obsession with bande dessinee. The James Bond references in the title and catalogue number may be credited to cinephile Michel Duval alone.
Almost as interesting are the tracks that failed to make the final cut: at various stages the wishlist included music by Mark Beer, The Associates, Throbbing Gristle, Karel Goeyvaerts, plus mooted live tracks by Joy Division, and literary interviews with Marguerite Duras, Michel Tournier and Alain Robbe Grillet. Released on 20 November in an initial edition of 1000 copies, TWI 007 was an immediate success, retailing at the price of a 12" single and drawing praise from the British music press in December:
"The arrival of this thin tape from Belgium provides a reminder - without really trying, without being obvious - that pop is the modern poetry, is the sharpest, shiniest collection of experiences, is always something new… It's as indispensable as the Bow Wow Wow and A Certain Ratio cassettes: all in their own way point to the ways pop is moving… Of course it's posey: what isn't? It's pop/art. Insufferably over-fashionable, lavishly over the top, dreadfully dilettantish, finely eclectic. Pop can be so many things" (Paul Morley, New Musical Express)
"This is wild! This is fantastic! The perfect Christmas gift! FBWL is over 80 minutes of sheer scrapbookalia. It is a lovely put together way of deflating modern music, and at the same time of exalting its basic merits. A searing, sprawling, exotically chaotic way of achieving the almost impossible and restoring rock music to something that will nearly surprise you… It is endless and endlessly, genuinely entertaining listening. As pretentious as hell, of course, but there is only one thing worse than that - and that's not being pretentious. This tape, a long mysterious piece of collective modern overdrive, points to a future somewhere. And it looks more crimson that rosy, it's that good" (Dave McCullough, Sounds)
While Crepuscule was by no means the first modern independent record label in Belgium (credit is also due to Crammed, Sandwich, Double Dose and others), it quickly became the most prolific, cosmopolitan and culturally significant. The next 18 months saw a raft of releases by a veritable internationale of artists including Antena, Gavin Bryars, Cabaret Voltaire, Paul Haig, Ike Yard, Josef K, Malaria!, Marine, Wim Mertens and Tuxedomoon, and further landmark compilations such as Ghosts of Christmas Past and The Fruit of the Original Sin. Indeed the label would even outlast Factory, the label to which it owed a large measure of its early success.
This remastered CD (2006) version of TWI 007 features all tracks included on the 1980 cassette version, with the exception of Felch (live) by A Certain Ratio, left off for reasons of space and in any event included in LTMCD 2443. A second edition of the cassette (also TWI 007) appeared in a standard cassette box in 1981, and a double vinyl edition (TWI 008) in Japan in 1983, with several different tracks. A final (and much adulterated) version of From Brussels With Love appeared on double vinyl and CD in 1986, but with only around half the original tracks from the original cassette. The 1980 edition, however, remains the definitive artefact.
James Nice November 2006
CD tracklist: JOHN FOXX A JINGLE *1 THOMAS DOLBY AIRWAVES REPETITION STRANGER HAROLD BUDD CHILDREN ON THE HILL DURUTTI COLUMN SLEEP WILL COME MARTIN HANNETT THE MUSIC ROOM THE NAMES CAT MICHAEL NYMAN A WALK THROUGH H BRIAN ENO INTERVIEW PHILL NIBLOCK A THIRD TROMBONE JEANNE MOREAU INTERVIEW RICHARD JOBSON ARMOURY SHOW BILL NELSON THE SHADOW GARDEN DURUTTI COLUMN PIECE FOR AN IDEAL KEVIN HEWICK & NEW ORDER HAYSTACK RADIO ROMANCE ETRANGE AFFINITE GAVIN BRYARS WHITE'S SS DER PLAN MEINE FREUNDE B.C. GILBERT & GRAHAM LEWIS TWIST UP JOHN FOXX A JINGLE *2 Read More
With yet another Satie collection, LTM is doing great justice to the composer who is oft overlooked but is as important to modern music as any of the trendy experimental composers that get all the limelight. By today's standards much of Satie's work is far from revolutionary, in fact, much of it has fallen into the realm of cheesy but like any art, the original still packs a punch. This collection is the first to cover his Dada-related works.
Some of these pieces are new to me, some aren’t new but they are far from familiar. At first, Trois Morceaux en Forme de Poire sounds like it is going to be a dull cabaret piece but Satie quickly throws in some curve balls. Almost like the collage technique associated with Dada, Satie seamlessly changes the form of the piece whenever he feels the need. There are slight snippets that are almost recognisable from other pieces, cut out and pasted in like pieces of newspaper in a traditional collage. Despite being broken up into movements, there is that much chopping and changing that it may as well be all one piece. The most interesting thing to note about this piece is that it predates the Dada movement by about 16 years! However, it was performed at a Tristan Tzara soirée in 1923 as Satie felt that these pieces were in Dada’s spirit.
Relâche is divided in two by an entr’acte (between act interval) entitled Cinema (the one piece I have heard before). Relâche was the score for a ballet by Francis Picabia and Cinéma was the soundtrack for a film shown in between the two acts of the ballet. Although only the arrangement for piano is utilized on this recording, the score was originally intended for an orchestra. It would be nice if LTM would consider releasing an orchestral version of these pieces. Not to say that the piano here is anything but great. Pianist Bojan Gorisek is no stranger to Satie and it is possible to hear his enthusiasm for Satie with each note. He plays with a light heartedness and gusto that suits the pieces down to the ground. His performance on the “Chasseur; et début de l’enterrement” episode of Cinéma captures the poignancy of the piece; a death march augmented by Satie in what would prove to be his last composition.
While these were all utilised in Dada activities, it is hard to pigeonhole Satie in as another Dadaist. He was a surreal Dadaist and a Dadaesque Surrealist and he was neither at the same time. This collection captures his spirit more than the Dada spirit (and Gorisek channels Satie's spirit well). It is one of the better entries in LTM's ongoing Satie review, as well as being musically rich, the sleeve notes are also worthy of mention. They include a lot of useful information and pictures although, inexplicably, Man Ray's “Gift” is thrown in amongst the pictures of Satie, posters for his events and photos of the stage layouts for Relâche (though I suppose that it is a Dada statement on the designer's part). Dada Works & Entr’actes is a great piece of Satie and as a fine commentary on Dada from the Satie perspective.
There's no denying that Ghost was the highlight of 2006's Terrastock festival. While the Japanese ensemble might never make a dent in the minds of the young and hip, amongst the most trustworthy music crowds, they are living legends. This is a group who wants it all—to make fantastic psychedelic pop songs, powerful cinematic anthems, and patient yet intoxicating jazz-rock masterpieces—and there's no reason to deny them.
Ghost introduces a 28 minute epic from the start of In Stormy Nights (track 2 on the CD edition but side A of the 2xLP edition). While Ghost tackle different styles in different songs, their ability to compose great arrangements remains constant: although "Hemicyclic Anthelion" is packed full with multi-talented multi-instrumentalists, never does it feel like they're stomping on each other's feet. The patient evolution and virtuoso instrumentation (double-bass, percussion, loops and effects) echoes other Japanese improvisational jazz-rock legends Taj Mahal Travelers while the use of piano, vibes, and chimes is something fans of Psychic TV's Themes I will gravitate towards. It would be difficult to talk about Ghost without mention of the guitar work of Michio Kurihara, and songs like "Hemicyclic Anthelion" showcase his ability both to rip out some bleeding riffs and to exercise restraint during others moments.
The vocals of acoustic guitarist Masaki Batoh can be heard prominently on songs that unsurprisingly have a strong acoustic guitar presence: the album's opener, "Motherly Bluster," is a captivating double-guitar piece from a fantasy world with flute, malleted drums, and lush strings; while "Water Door Yellow Gate" becomes forceful with the march-like percussion and matching piano and acoustic guitar strums, the evil whine of a blistering guitar, and retro electronic choral synth sample sounds (see old OMD).
Ghost waste no time launching into the faster, more powerful drive of "Gareki No Toshi," where percussionists not only lay down the driving backbone with ballsy tympani-esque drums and piano, but take center stage with another layer of angry drumming. This isn't a passive song to be listened to quietly: it screams to be released at full volume through the speakers. Squelchy vocals, squealing guitar, and buzzing effects color the rest of the tune, which reaches an apex with massive gongs: they break the motion but not the intensity. "Caledonia," an MP3 released early from Drag City, is easily the album's biggest "hit single," or whatever the hit single equivalent is in the world of 2007 independent music where labels give out an MP3 online instead of press 45s to issue to radio and retail. For those who don't believe that the power of this massive undertaking is something to believe in, just get the entire MP3 from Drag City for proof. "Caledonia" is the song where everything comes together: flutes and other wind instruments play pied piper with a band that is perfectly in sync with itself, charging forward with the force of a fleet of medieval battleships making their way through a rough sea without any sign of weakness.
Things calm back down for the beautiful string, acoustic, and vocal ending of "Grisaille," and LP customers get a bonus treat of another version (the Sing Together mix) of "Caledonia." Three years ago I was championing Hypnotic Underworld as the year's first masterpiece and I can safely stand by that claim for In Stormy Nights. As the group gets better I feel in terms of ability and arrangements, I'm sad to face the possibility that their live days might actually be numbered. While I look forward to a day where I can witness Ghost live again, from the way their performance at Terrastock was billed, it isn't like that such an event will happen. At least there's no visible end in sight for the great music they continue to issue.
Listening to this latest Joe+N release it seems like he's nonchalantly clawing himself one step closer to creating a definitive slice of starveling musicality. The production sound and improvised song structures on this CDR have all the hallmarks of effortless one-takes that couldn't be faked without a bank of bespectacled major label engineers.
This a.k.a. for Carbon Records head Joe Tunis sees him building an open-minded nonchalance of meat stripped bones music over these five tracks. Opening with a fumbling static buzz and a vocal refrain that sounds like it is blown through a card tube or broken horn, there’s a sense of dub production styled lost and found in the disappearing sounds. Hopefully there’s an elongated take somewhere in the First Person vaults, as this feels a little too much like a clipped short intro when placed up against the other tracks relative structures.
The following song, a lo-fidelity zero-rent piece of malnourished one man and his guitar work, manages to spread its wings despite the self-hammered clubbed feet. The mostly steady playing supports a fumbling vocal, but as it devolves further it only gets better. The third untitled piece sees more of what could possibly be quite unhygienic vocal machinations coated in spoken word mucus and jerky chimes. Further songs see things come a little more into focus with a distant kismet ruined guitar slugging it out with a sine-melted vocal line. The dissimilar elements of the bass and treble ends continue to bleed steadily all over the song's middle, pushing it further than the average jam. Even with this CDR's fumbles and very real air of confused improvised emptiness there is a musical core to all the pieces.
The ridiculously prolific singjay's fourth (by my count) full-length CD in the last twelve months doesn't match his higher profile releases for VP and Tads nor does it contain any of his charting singles.
You'd be hard pressed to actually call yourself a reggae fan these days without having at least heard something from Turbulence. A handful of tracks from X-Girlfriend, released just this past October, are burning up the Jamaican charts thanks to his special blend of roots and lover's rock. His fame spread far beyond the island in 2006 when the gritty "Notorious," nearly as anthemic as Damian Marley's scorching "Welcome To Jamrock," grew so massive that even geeky hipster zines and bandwagon-jumping labels had little choice but to take notice. Although easily mixed up with such trend jockeying, Germany's Minor 7 Flat 5, however, hardly counts as a latecomer, having released Different Thing in 2003, years before the folks at XL Recordings had so much as a whiff of the then-rising star.
Despite all that promise, the unspectacular Do Good simply doesn't hold up against the mounting successes. As with Turbulence's first release for this label, producer Andreas "Brotherman" Christophersen bears the primary responsibility here, and, to be fair, Turbulence at least deserves credit for trying to overcome this bad situation. Although recorded at least in part at Tuff Gong in Jamaica with some recognizable session players, the album plays blandly like so many from countless contemporary Rastas, never giving up a single standout hook. Tracks like "Pursue" and "Bright Eyes" might sound at least decent live at some European reggae festival, but in studio they backfire into a comfortable safeness absent from his aforementioned hits. Unsurprisingly, the inclusion of Luciano on "Freedom Train" only marginally improves on this tiresome and formulaic approach.
The biggest blunders come when Brotherman, arguably with lofty intentions, veers away from the rootsy vibes and tries to fit Turbulence into boxy, lifeless interpretations of other musical subgenres. Unlike when, say, René Löwe or Rhythm & Sound enlist Paul St. Hilaire or Tony Tuff for their minimal digi-dub excursions, Brotherman's attempts at recreating styles he seems to know little about just don't work. The most egregious example, "Good Time" pitifully fumbles over its dated 2-step garage beat with the most generic piano stabs I've heard on record in years. Turbulence tries his best here but there's just no stomping out this burning bag of dogshit. Even more dancehall oriented cuts here like "Move On" either lack any "ruff" edge or the instrumentation sounds too canned to be considered authentic.
I am unable to completely exonerate Turbulence for taking part in this bland project, as I cannot shake the feeling that his prolificity is profit-motivated. His demonstrable willingness to sacrifice artistic integrity for a paycheck puts him squarely in line with so many reggae voices of the last decade or two, the oft-compared Sizzla among them, slating Do Good as yet another album to avoid in the singjay's growing discography. With any luck, its release wont even register as a blip on the collective screens of his core fanbase.
Despite my love for demented junglist Panacea, I didn't start out as a Squaremeter fan. In fact, I downright detested Mathis Mootz's first album with that moniker. Perhaps the worst release in Ant-Zen's peerless catalog, 14id1610s was inexcusably self-indulgent: a poorly executed collection of irreverent accidents reeking of puerile amateurism.
For years I refused to get burned again by anything Mootz released outside of the safe confines of the Position Chrome imprint. During that time, Brainwashed matriarch Jon Whitney urged me to reconsider my steadfast position, and in early 2006, admittedly attracted primarily by its Muslimgauze-esque artwork, I purchased the extraordinary Aswad during a Synapscape / Asche tour stop. Clearly Mootz had grown beyond my expectations, maturing into an artist who not only understood the rules of the game, but also how to challenge those stagnating conventions effectively.
Nyx is an alarmingly ascetic record, relying heavily on a limited soundbank of bleak drones, soaring synth pads, and bombastic percussion. Although uniformity can often prove detrimental in these types of albums, Mootz has managed to build something mesmeric with an appropriate level of momentum. Every sound seems purposeful instead of incidental, buzzing and rumbling with mystical grandeur and an everpresent stench of death. Bearing track titles named for Greek gods and goddesses, these epic pieces adeptly synchronize with the conceptual thematic intent, recalling an ancient age when deities were revered and feared.
Mootz's incontrovertible veneration for the legendary Lustmord was apparent on 2005's The Frozen Spark, but Nyx definately has its own distinct identity. Of note, however, is the apparent influence of martial industrial acts like Der Blutharsch, though in this case the elements are used much more sparingly and presumably without controversial intent. "Moros" opens the album with monotonous soundscapes peppered with unusual and often abrupt sonic intrusions. A near silence uncomfortably initiates "Thanatos," its low hum slowing rising among a repetitious machine echo. A bass pulse hits like a thunder crack, giving way to a blossoming melody that foreshadows impending doom that one would expect for a track dedicated to death personified. Later, the opening crash of "Nemesis" shatters any remaining false comfort provided by the preceding lulling grey ambience. Here, explosive blasts, tribal rhythms and backwards cymbals churn ritualistically, perhaps in preparation for the retribution that particular goddess was known to deliver. While less accessible, "Lachesis" continues in this vein, building up caustic delays from its warlike percussions and triggered samples, giving way to the more subdued though no less frightening closer "Atropos."
One of the finest dark ambient releases I've had the pleasure to hear in years, Nyx furthers both Ant-Zen's enduring legacy and that of Mootz himself. Not content to remain solely a rave icon, Mootz has proven himself worthy of the attention of serious dark ambient music lovers.
Another Stephen O'Malley musical project is released on yet another limited edition: this time a one-sided and etched LP. Although Crashed Like Wretched Moth does not grab me like the previous Ginnungagap releases, it does not have the same immediate power. It seems to be slowly growing on me but I doubt I will be able to embrace it as heartily as his other side project releases.
After such a nice sleeve (very much indebted to many releases on Touch) I was expecting more from the etching, a crude demon type creature and a lot of bat-like beings in silver ink. The piece takes up a full side, so it is around 20 minutes long. Unlike most O'Malley work, there are absolutely no guitars nor any instruments remotely related to the guitar. Instead, Crashed Like Wretched Moth is O’Malley in front of a piano and clattering out a constant din.
Like other Ginnungagap releases, the sound of the music is atypical of what would normally be expected from a man who is renowned for massive stacks of amps and bending reality itself with volume. Here the bulk of the music is a thunderous piano motif, constantly vibrating for the length of the piece. For a while, this is all there is to Crashed Like Wretched Moth and I was starting to think I had wasted my money but soon new sounds and notes appeared. Plucked piano strings and pounded keys stab out of the recording like a blind knife fighter. Sometimes O'Malley hits home sharply, sometimes the effect is dulled.
Crashed Like Wretched Moth is a bit of a disappointment after the frankly perfect Remeindre. However, it is obvious that Ginnungagap is a way for O’Malley to explore new musical vistas and to simply rehash what he has done before would be futile. Also, it would be unfair to dismiss this as a failed experiment, the piece is in no way awful but it does not sit right with me at this point in time. With each spin of the record I enjoy it a little more but I don't know if in the long run I will come back to Crashed Like Wretched Moth as often as other works in O’Malley’s cannon.
This is only available on LP so no mp3 samples, apologies!
Three-piece bands like this aren't supposed to exist anymore. Typically a keyboardist, an extra guitar player, and someone able to manipulate a laptop or some drum machines would be necessary to do what this band does with one guitar, one bass, and one drum set. Their intensity is propelled in equal portions by brutally distorted guitar work, driving bass lines, pounding drums, and simple, effective song writing.
These EPs are, at their essence, the image of rock 'n' roll turned inside out: all the ugly viscera spilling out in an excess of anger, ghostly melodies, and crushing noise.
The opening song on the "Red" EP proclaims, "I'll never fall in love again." What follows is a wall of noise and music that alleviates as much as it destroys. The guitars sound like explosions, the bass lines like consecutive gut punches, the percussion ragged and dirty with cuts and bruises. A Place to Bury Strangers are fucking heavy, their sound packed to the brim with every kind of sound imaginable. Oliver Ackermann's guitar sounds like an apocalyptic trumpet at times, honking out wholly alien tones along with a shimmering buzz or a cacophonous crunch worthy of nightmares. When he isn't busy ripping the strings and insides out of his guitar, Ackermann is capable of keeping his instrument within the realms of the intelligible: at least sometimes it sounds like a string instrument. Running along the side of this affinity for electric carnage is a talent for song writing. Every one of these songs has a memorable hook packed inside them with unconventional and surprising moments that make the songs absorbing from beginning to end. "The Falling Sun" functions on soaring melodies that play themselves out over each other, the bass, the noise, and the guitar melodies all competing for space in the mix, all of them continually building the tension in the song until the whole beautiful mess galvanizes itself and turns to dust. On the other hand, "Don't Think Lover" comes out swinging with a tornado of effects and unrelenting drums before caving into a more conventional pop tune. The peace isn't too last, though, as a brief silence in the song is followed by an overpowering and wordless chorus of sorts that hits even harder than the opening punch of sound.
The "Green" EP begins with the anthemic "Never Going Down," a song that is part tribal drumming and part "I'm going to rip your legs off your body" guitar assault. The songs on this EP sound slightly more open, less washed out in effects and more immediate. If the "Red" EP is a bit dreamy despite all its immediacy, the majority of the "Green" EP is akin to having a piano dropped on your head when you least expect it. It starts off strong and doesn't even think about relenting until the final song, "Ocean," which is powerful in its own right, though not as heavy as tracks like "My Weakness" or "To Fix the Gash in Your Head." Both of these tunes sound like they were made for a car crash, "My Weakness" has an especially virulent drum line that holds up an accelerated guitar part and a heavy, throbbing bass guitar that holds the song together with its melody and throbbing rhythm. Not to back down for even a second, "To Fix in the Gash in Your Head" is perhaps the bands catchiest tune despite its manic pace and nasty lyrics. "I'll just wait for you to turn around and kick your head in" is delivered in a near deadpan voice, betraying the idea that this might be a sarcastic tune: with the flying, completely sizzling melody that dominates the tune and the machine gun percussion, it's hard to believe that this song is anything but dead serious. The "Green" EP ends with "Ocean," a song whose title completely relates its contents. Filled with washes of noise and a floating, dense melody, it is the perfect end to an EP that feels complete unto itself, as if each of the songs had been written for each other.
On their third and most recent EP the band almost completely shifts gears. The music is far more subdued than either of the previous EPs and the emphasis on pure aural assault is toned down for a bit. In a way the track "Half Awake" dominates 18 and a half minute running time, tumbling along in waves of loose strings and wavering effects. It also stands out as being completely instrumental, many of the effects on the guitars sounding like keyboards and drifting easily through the steady pulse of drums. A "portastudio demo" of "Missing You" is included, fitting in well because it is far more stripped down, the trilled bass and delayed effects calming down the energy that the "Red" EP version has. Closing things out is a cover of The Jesus and Mary Chain's "Just Out of Reach" from the Barbed Wire Kisses compilation. It's a good cover, but more than that, it really sets this band apart from any of their influences, demonstrating in no uncertain terms that A Place to Bury Strangers are working on their own agenda, no matter who's influenced them.
This meeting between New York's Phantom Limb and Tokyo's Tetuzi Akiyama is electric. At just over half an hour it is all too short but the music on this disc is impeccable. The playing is inventive, abstract and full of energy. While far from perfect, I enjoyed it immensely. Phantom Limb and Akiyama do not employ flashy, over-the-top techniques but build on solid grooves and noise to make compelling music.
The piece begins with some uncomfortably pitched drones accompanied by ominous thuds and bursts of distorted guitar. It seems like the sound is spinning around my head and occasionally dive-bombing through my skull. Before it feels like my ears have taken all they can, Hot Ginger morphs into a soothing barrage of gentle noise. This is noise in the musical sense as opposed to the Merzbow sense. It reminds me of that fuzzy, warm glow that comes out of the speakers when I listen to My Bloody Valentine's Loveless. This is a lot more harsh despite the openness of the piece when it gets into full swing. A menacing undercurrent runs through the performance and the tension builds and builds but never breaks. It makes the piece more gripping as I am on edge waiting for the inevitable crash which incidentally never comes.
Eventually the piece peters out into a glistening drone which is soothing after the force of the preceding 20 minutes. The menace soon returns, bringing with it harsh feedback and some fucked up sounding organ sounds. This is not the strongest part of the piece, I would prefer if the wall of sound from before had kept going for longer. Still, Hot Ginger regains its momentum after a few minutes meandering and finishes satisfactorily with the guitars buzzing and throbbing through the mix. One player keeps using the cut-off switch on his guitar to great effect; he gets a great tone off it. The other guitarist builds up a strong rhythm with the two organs. All the players eventually slow down, allowing the piece to ebb to a stop beautifully.
There is not much information in the sleeve but I assume this is an improvisation given the performers involved, it certainly sounds like it was plucked from the ether. The sleeve is gorgeous—as usual with this label—a terracotta-colored card silkscreened with marvellous imagery. It gives no indication what the music on the disc will sound like but when listening to Hot Ginger it all makes some sort of sense (what sort of sense I have not decided yet).
Hot Ginger is sometimes great, sometimes not. Luckily the greatness far outweighs any of the less enjoyable parts. The simplicity of the playing allows the elegance of the music to shine through. They could have put a little more oomph into some of the performance but on the whole Hot Ginger is excellent. Really, my main gripe is not that there are too many bad points but it could do with even more great points.
My fiancée does not like the noise music scene.After almost two years of dating the only admission I’ve gotten out of her is that it’s amazing that they can reproduce their compositions on stage.Not just some approximation of the original song but the actual original song, proving that the genre is not simply noise, but in fact precisely crafted compositions that many people take very seriously.This is the sort of thing going through my head as I listen to this very limited live White Mice release, containing a brief (just under 25 minute) show at Angle of View in Nashville last July.
Project Perfect, long lost duo consisting of Andy Brown (Jessamine/Fontanelle/Southerning) and guitarist Charlie Smyth (Fontanelle) sees their entire oeuvre re-released on Community Library this month.
Originally issued locally by a conceptual arts group, the CD never quite made it out of Portland to deserved acclaim. 5 years later, the music has become even more relevant in its combination of minimal analogue grit, dark jazz haze, and marriage of free improvisation to electronic production. Much more than a Fontanelle side project, Project Perfect's recordings capture the early 00's spirit of Portland's musical experimentalism- uncompromising, musical, and uncategorisable.