Scott Ferguson has a unique voice. Of course, like fingerprints, every voice is unique to a degree. But Scott has found his voice, and conformed it to his introspectral lyrics. Whether it is hiding submerged beneath the shadows of etheric guitar work, or rising triumphant into the light above the steady tambourine pulse and murmur of electronics, the experience is haunting. Listening to this succinct EP is like brushing up with a ghost in the haunted Midwest landscape. While the machines of industry may be dead or dying, something invisible still moves among their rusted skeletons, in the empty homes. And now I can hear them.
Hotter than July. This week's episode has plenty of fresh new music by Marie Davidson, Kim Gordon, Mabe Fratti, Guided By Voices, Holy Tongue meets Shackleton, Softcult, Terence Fixmer, Alan Licht, pigbaby, and Eiko Ishibashi, plus some vault goodies from Bombay S Jayashri and Pete Namlook & Richie Hawtin. Solstice moon in West Midlands, UK photo by James. Get involved: subscribe, review, rate, share with your friends, send images!
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Since parting from Kranky after 2002's Trust, Low have been at a crossroads. Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker, the band's guiding lights, have experimented with Low's blueprint, slipping into costume as a proper rock band on The Great Destroyer, then deconstructing that sound on Drums and Guns. Both are littered with great songs, but sound restless and unfocused in contrast with Low's previous work—the distinctive, low-key beauty that had drawn me into their world was often missing, at odds with their forays into dissonance and distortion. For their third Sub Pop album, Low have discovered a wonderful middle ground, merging the simplicity of their early recordings with the scaled-up production of their last two albums.
In one way, this 7" is a departure from C Spencer Yeh’s lovely, wild, textured, drone experiments as Burning Star Core and from his work with everyone from Comets on Fire and Tony Conrad to John Sinclair. Yet, these two engaging songs, with their satisfyingly oblique lyrics, also confirm his interest in the human voice and in the studio as a compositional tool.
The primitive sounding blues being played on White Man at the Door is similar to Tom Waits or Nick Cave’s early excursions with The Bad Seeds. The Lost Domain never match those artists for power and originality but like those artists they do give modern blues playing a swift kick. It is the dark mythological blues that only came into existence when white people came onto the scene (something that is alluded to in the title of the album), something that has been done to death but can still provide the odd surprise. By no means is this a masterpiece but this album at least had some life as the band puts their own spin on the blues.
With the name Hulk and a sleeve color of an angry Bruce Banner I was expecting this album to be muscular and dominating but instead it is subdued and peaceful. The title of the album is apt, as there is a serene, supernatural feeling permeating the recordings. It is sad yet deeply comforting music.
Like all great seven inch releases, this Volcano the Bear disc crams a few of this band’s multiple facets into one value for money package. These three utterly independent cuts highlight a band that never seems to settle into a style, even within the constraints of a single piece of music.
The mysterious Burial had the jump on everyone in dubstep this year, delivering the burgeoning underground scene's most anticipated artist album months in advance of anyone else. However, based on the virulent virility of Skream's unpretentious, nearly eponymous debut, I suspect I, and many others, will be more inclined to listen to this album far more regularly.
Gregory Isaacs is most known for his vocal works as a reggae singer, with recordings stretching back to the 1960s and worldwide acclaim through releases on Trojan, RAS, Front Line, and other noteworthy labels. However, back in 1978, with a little assistance from reggae royalty King Tubby and Prince Jammy, Isaacs produced this masterpiece, perhaps my own personal Holy Grail of classic dub.
Given that each of the 51 pieces on this compilation are all roughly a minute in duration, there is a lot of hopping around here, with disparate pieces put aside one another to create some varying transitions, sometimes brilliant, sometimes confusing. Unsurprisingly, the individual contributions follow a similar pattern, with some moments that I wish were longer, and others I could do without.
