Fans and detractors alike would probably agree that a defining characteristic of Mogwai's last few records has been the symbolic spinning of wheels. It is disappointing, then, that the band would deem the best course of action is to frame the spinning wheels as a deliberate move to concretize a style and not the lack of inspiration everyone knows it to be. Rave Tapes was promoted as having an abundance of electronic instrumentation, but that is a disingenuous move, both because it is neither a new element nor is it nearly as prominent as it is suggested. Rather, it is the only distinguishing feature of a release interred in its own indifference.
When Keiji Haino reignited the fires at the center of Fushitsusha that had lain dormant for about a decade, it was inevitable that a change of focus would occur in the group’s music. Two albums recorded for Heartfast in 2012 saw the gaping chasms of noisy rock dropped for something more angular and rhythmically challenging. A third album was promised but, Haino being Haino, this has expanded the series further to become a tetralogy with these two releases.
Even though Turman began his music career in the early 1970s and co-founded NON with Boyd Rice, he has not been as prolific, nor has he garnered the same accolades as many of his contemporaries have. Recent collaborations with the likes of Jandek and Aaron Dilloway have lead to a resurgence of interest, and Beyond Painting is one of the products of this rediscovery. Presented here as a luxurious double LP reissue of a self-released CDR, Turman's work is given the recognition it deserves.
As one of the preeminent psychedelic rock/electro acoustic super groups in the Upstate New York/Massachusetts area, Twilight of the Century have not been overly prolific amongst their many related projects, with this tape representing their first actual release since their founding in 2008. The rock half, Eric Hardiman and Ray Hare, make up Century Plants and have a slew of solo guises, while the more avant garde experimentalism is the work of Mike Bullock and Linda Aubry Bullock, who largely work under their own names and as Rise, Set, Twilight. Hibernation captures the quartet carefully balancing those more aggressive, guitar focused tendencies with the subtle use of electronics wonderfully.
Originally released as an extremely limited LP on Savoury Days and recently reissued by Luke Younger's Alter imprint, this Southeast England band's second album was one of 2013's most criminally overlooked releases.  Combining post-punk deconstructionism, heavy industrial textures, and a strong bent for collage/improvisation, this enigmatic ensemble is a welcome addition to the beloved pantheon of hard-to-define, fringe-dwelling British weirdos like Zoviet France, Throbbing Gristle, and This Heat.
Listening to this EP is like being run over by a goddamn tank. Ren Schofield was one of the first harsh noise artists to take his cacophony to the dance floor and–along with Pete Swanson–he remains one of the best.  In fact, this, his first release for Mute's experimental music imprint, might be one of the finest Container releases to date.  While no dramatic evolution has taken place, aside from slightly more simple and accessible grooves, Adhesive is a perfectly distilled dose of relentless, pummeling noise-damaged techno from start to finish.
For some reason, there was a brief period in my life a while back in which every single person who learned of my early Red House Painters obsession immediately responded with some variation of "You know who else you would love? Tara Jane O'Neil."  At the time, I did not think the two artists had much in common at all, aside from the superficial traits of being both slow and melancholy, but I have always enjoyed hearing O'Neil whenever she resurfaces.  This time, after a five year solo album hiatus, she has resurfaced on Kranky–the perfect home for someone who sounds like Grouper's more sophisticated older sister.
There has been an avalanche of fine dispatches from Eliane Radigue's voluminous vault in recent years, which both pleases and overwhelms me, as I want to hear them all and cannot hope to keep up.  Adnos is one of the latest of those great albums and offers the added appeal of being a major, decade-spanning, formative work as well.  Originally composed between 1973 and 1980, these three lengthy pieces are stylistic precursors to Radigue's minimal drone epicTrilogie de la Morte (widely regarded to be her masterpiece). While Adnos is not quite on the same level as its similarly ambitious successor, it certainly comes damn close.
I know I am not the only person who has caught himself in a public situation hearing some sort of malfunctioning machinery and thought it would have sounded great on record. Obviously not, because it is that concept specifically that defines Blake Edwards' newest album, a gorgeous picture disc with accompanying CD-R of related material. It is his careful mixing and understated processing that make this shine, however.
A strange spectacle murmurs unceremoniously just beneath the familiar hum of daily life. It's filled with little dramas and peculiar collisions that sneak by unnoticed—in the empty spaces of the room, out of the corner of your eye—small bits of information slip through the senses' fingers and fall into the subconscious where they become fodder for dreams. These unremembered fragments are a part of every environment and every observation, but would we recognize them if given a second chance? On Air Supply, Graham Lambkin and Jason Lescalleet resurrect such mental refuse and put just such a question to the test. They may have pointed their microphones at computer vents or the back yard, but what they pulled from those sources is utterly bizarre, to the point of being completely alien.
