Matricaria is a genus of plant well known for its powers of bio-remediation, the first to colonize lands that have been disturbed by human evil. And like the plants after which this album was named, veteran psych-folksters Tara Burke and Helena Espvall have littered this musical venture with seeds of great potential. I hope that in the future their efforts will be more cultivated and carefully pruned. Luckily, the places that needed weeding in this musical patch are passed over easily. What remains is wild in its beauty.
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There seem to be two wildly different sides to this band: one that plays skittering discordant freak-outs, and one that strives for some sort of ambient/post-rock/Tangerine Dream hybrid. I vastly prefer the freak-out side. No one ever says "I saw the most amazing jazz duo last night, they had this virtuousic and incendiary drummer, but he concealed that extremely well and played with tasteful restraint and subtlety instead. It was awesome!". This album lives and dies by how much drummer Thomas Stronen opens up.
While nearly all musicians use technology in their craft, few do it so literally as Skeletons Out members Howard Stelzer and Jay Sullivan; Stelzer plays tapes while Sullivan opts for vinyl. Despite a means of production that would appear to require a reconfiguring of previously recorded material though, Skeletons Out instead concoct a barren piece of industrial architecture from the sounds of the tools themselves.
This Swiss project has a new take on sludgy drone music: most tracks here are full of harsh noise and feedback, while others are driven by a fuzzed out bass, all paired with the infinite tones of a harmonium. The increased sense of musicality based on a wider sonic palette makes for a better experience across the diverse tracks presented here.
This is K-The-I???'s second album of "densed-out boom bap" and first collaboration with producer Thavius Beck. Beck, who recently worked with Trent Reznor on Saul Williams' Niggy Tardust, complements K’s literate, dystopian verse beautifully with what Mush has aptly dubbed "Blade Runner beats."
Marion Maerz was possibly Germany's coolest pop star for a while in 1965, a reputation earned largely from her rather downcast hit "Er ist Weider Da" (released at a time when German pop songs were uniformly cheery). Unfortunately, she was never able to repeat her initial success and gradually faded from being a chart presence. In 1971, she attempted to reinvent herself with an album of German-language interpretations of Burt Bacharach hits. No one noticed and Marion’s second (and final) slide into obscurity began. In the ensuing four decades, this album has become a sought-after collector's item and is regarded as something of a masterpiece (according to the label, anyway).
2008 was a big year for Emeralds. Solar Bridge (released on Hanson) garnered the most widespread acclaim for the trio yet and all three members—guitarist Mark McGuire and synth players John Elliott and Steve Hauschildt—continued their solo explorations with numerous releases that garnered further praise. What Happened sees Emeralds further honing their sound as they hearken in what is sure to be another fruitful year for the unit.
The music crafted by Strings of Consciousness could appropriately characterized as stream of consciousness: improvisation being the musical equivalent of the literary technique. Based around the core of a string quartet, the international collective, instigated by Philippe Petit, join themselves with a revolving cast of fellow musical travelers. This time they team up with Angel, who began in 1999 as duo between Ilpo Vaisanen (Pan Sonic) and Dirk Dresselhaus (Schneider TM). In 2004 Icelandic multi-instrumentalist of Múm fame, Hildur Gudnadottir, was recruited. The result has become a vehicle on which my own consciousness can travel, moving from the ominous and hyperdriven sounds of deep space to wander amidst the ancient ruins of a moonswept world.
The duo of Howard Marsden and Holy McGrail is a unit whose long excursions explore the more ominous realms of synthesizer slush. This, their second album following 2005's The Creep eschews the dark fragility of their previous effort in favor of 65 minutes of near unmoving gloom whose finale, a poem written and recited by Julian Cope, merely serves to seal the casket.
Jóhannsson's second installment of a series inspired by iconic American names is as dazzling and solemn as we have come to expect. Hopefully the final component won't refer to The Golden Arches.
