Poeta Negra
After a series of EPs and singles, northern England's 2 By Bukowski have released their second full, experimenting with spare, atmospheric soundscapes and wild, jarring collisions of noise. On Drink From My Bastard Grail,they straddle the line of introspective ambient and volatilepsyche-rock, offering energizing slivers of each throughout the disc."Chopperfuck" begins with a filthy, snarling guitar riff over slow,crawling drumbeats and heavy, distorted chords that swirl like anintense storm. Suddenly a distant female voice pokes through and theclouds lift as a calm, meditative melody wisps along with it. Therespite is short-lived, and the track once again climbs upward in afrenzy of distorted squeals and groans. "Wild Manner" is a vicious,screaming assault of amplifier feedback, lurching along full of biliousthrust. It's a frenetic sound, yet one that is underpinned by a solid,restrained rhythm that keeps everything from flying out in everyconceivable direction a la Comets on Fire. Bukowski are a far moreprecise outfit than that. The energy can be felt bubbling beneaththere, but the control makes the track all the more tense and cohesive.A simple arrangement of piano triads leads "I Am Ready For Death inThis Dominion," coupled with synthesized strings to give the air of amournful funeral procession. Bukowski plays with standard, thoughtfulpieces as well, eschewing the noise for expansive compositions thatoperate through mood and texture rather than gut reactions. "The LastAerie" and "Gate 3" both take the slow road, the latter using trebledchirps and gurgling effects to evoke a teeming brook and gusts out intoa pleasing pastoral wash. The movement between the louder and softertracks doesn't result in dissonance, but in fact highlights thestrengths of each in contrast. Just when 2 By Bukowski sounds as ifthey are going to pull apart and shatter, they slip in with a welcomeand rejuvenating break from the schizophrenia. An excess of either endof the spectrum would have made for a stale listen, but the group showsthat they can sound powerful and dynamic whether mired in sludgy rockor icy ambiance. 'Drink From My Bastard Grail' is soothing, enervating,pleasing, and provocative. With these tensions rubbing against oneanother, the friction they generate makes for an engaging listen.
After a series of EPs and singles, northern England's 2 By Bukowski have released their second full, experimenting with spare, atmospheric soundscapes and wild, jarring collisions of noise. On Drink From My Bastard Grail,they straddle the line of introspective ambient and volatilepsyche-rock, offering energizing slivers of each throughout the disc."Chopperfuck" begins with a filthy, snarling guitar riff over slow,crawling drumbeats and heavy, distorted chords that swirl like anintense storm. Suddenly a distant female voice pokes through and theclouds lift as a calm, meditative melody wisps along with it. Therespite is short-lived, and the track once again climbs upward in afrenzy of distorted squeals and groans. "Wild Manner" is a vicious,screaming assault of amplifier feedback, lurching along full of biliousthrust. It's a frenetic sound, yet one that is underpinned by a solid,restrained rhythm that keeps everything from flying out in everyconceivable direction a la Comets on Fire. Bukowski are a far moreprecise outfit than that. The energy can be felt bubbling beneaththere, but the control makes the track all the more tense and cohesive.A simple arrangement of piano triads leads "I Am Ready For Death inThis Dominion," coupled with synthesized strings to give the air of amournful funeral procession. Bukowski plays with standard, thoughtfulpieces as well, eschewing the noise for expansive compositions thatoperate through mood and texture rather than gut reactions. "The LastAerie" and "Gate 3" both take the slow road, the latter using trebledchirps and gurgling effects to evoke a teeming brook and gusts out intoa pleasing pastoral wash. The movement between the louder and softertracks doesn't result in dissonance, but in fact highlights thestrengths of each in contrast. Just when 2 By Bukowski sounds as ifthey are going to pull apart and shatter, they slip in with a welcomeand rejuvenating break from the schizophrenia. An excess of either endof the spectrum would have made for a stale listen, but the group showsthat they can sound powerful and dynamic whether mired in sludgy rockor icy ambiance. 'Drink From My Bastard Grail' is soothing, enervating,pleasing, and provocative. With these tensions rubbing against oneanother, the friction they generate makes for an engaging listen. 
The third single Dave Pajo's series of audio tour diaries showcases hisinterpretation of a couple of covers and one original track; recordedin Bloomington and Chicago while on tour with his current day job,Zwan. Pajo's vocals and country-influenced guitar pickin' on thetraditional "Wild Mountain Thyme" convey the tune's original spirit.Background vocals and strings from collaborators Molly Kien and MaggiePolk make this track all the more authentic. My current favoritehurtin' tune would be Pajo's cover of Little Feat's "Truckstop Girl"with its jangly capo'ed acoustic guitar that, while beautifully played,brings a sadness along with vocals that sing of the end of a loveaffair that results in tragedy. Although the overdubbed electricguitars that take the tune out are fairly simple, their tone and timingare very powerful in context. The original "Who Knows" has Pajohandling the duties of drummer and bass player along with hismulti-tracked vocals and guitars on a relaxed tune whose interestingcountry-tinged chord changes and lyrics feel very comfortable. As thesesingles are being released, I've been wondering if any of the materialmight surface on the next full-length Papa M release. As I'd mentionedin a prior review, there's a certain charm to hearing these tunesstripped down as they are. If this is what Mr. Pajo has been up towhile he's busy on the road, the results from being in a more relaxedstudio environment should be all the more exciting.
For the first release under his own name, guitarist Jeff Parker(Tortoise/Isotope 217) presents a disc of fairly straight-ahead jazzcompositions in a trio setting featuring longtime associates and fellowChicago Undergrounders Chris Lopes on upright bass and Chad Taylor ondrums. Although Parker's playing is the main focal point with thisformat, the group's well-crafted compositions and support convey anhonesty of a collective recording that just happens to feature theguitar, moreso than a soloist with a backing group. A few free-jazzfreakouts are also included for good measure. Taylor's heartfeltcomposition, "Miriam," opens the disc as a brushed waltz of warm chordchanges that briefly sneak into double time throughout subtle guitarsoloing. The disc's uptempo title track, penned by Lopes, features somecool vamping sections at the chorus' turnaround that solidify thestructure and give a strong reference point during each player's solo.Named for his daughter, Parker's "Days Fly By (with Ruby)" moves froman oom-pah styled unison guitar and bass intro over Taylor's busy brushsoloing to finger snapping swing for some tasteful playing on anoverall great composition. The only hint of structure on thefree-spirited "Omega Sci Fi" are the blasts of walking bass lines thatplay against bombastic drums, splintered cymbals and scraping guitarfor four minutes of busy instrumental dialogue that chases down thenext line to be stated. Fans of Parker's work that have come to expecta certain style of playing and tone with his above mentioned maingroups, along with other projects such as Toe 2000 and Tricolor shouldbe pleasantly surprised with this album. A more traditional style ofwriting and playing that hadn't been as evident before shinesthroughout the recording and shows the vast talent of a great player.
Back before the Internet and World Wide Web allowed music junkies to connect with others and trade secrets, fans of bands in areas of the world far outside the band's nucleus had to rely on sources like magazines and books for the best information they could get on a group. Despite being a project from former Wire members, the experimental music contained didn't make it a title which warranted an in-print status and copies worldwide were rather scarce. As a young Wire fan, it had been on my personal wish list for years. When I finally discovered it in 1998 as a used record for $30 my heart jumped. I finally found it!
It's not surprising that the first full-length Gold Chains release isreceiving mixed reviews. Everybody's only used to hearing a GC productin shorter increments—and the reason why that works so perfectly isthat it's complimentary to the unique GC style. Topher LaFata, whobasically -is- Gold Chains is one mad talented motherfucker. His rap isdensely packed, rarely ever pausing to let the music to exist on itsown, while the music is so intricate and involved, changing stylesoften from bar to bar. By the second track he's gone from four on thefloor techno to swinging post-industrial, and nerdy glitch pop all in amatter of minutes. The swapping of styles continues for the rest of therelease, from parodies of big buck rap to jazzy interludes. Couple thiswith rare occurances of lyrical repetition or a "chorus," and tuning into the music demands complete and undivided attention. Only untilrepeated listens are instruments like live drums, piano, and guitarseven audible, since the subject matter of the rap is such an involvedfantasy world that it's hard to pay attention to everything else that'sgoing on. Thankfully lyrics were included this time around. Reading thelyrics without the music is also a fun exercise as they make greatjournal entries or stream of consciousness writing on their own. Topherloves to play with language, with a number of themes which seem toresurface. Themes about San Francisco, society, sex, drugs, money, and"warpping that Cali cooch in Prada" are amusing but crashing 11 songsof that in a row makes this album work best as a record to be paused inthe middle while the listener's got to get up off their ass and go flipit. In a bizarre way, it all makes sense that Topher is an oldindustrial fan, a former punk bass player, and allegedly an intensecomputer programmer. Gold Chains is almost like the prog-rock of modernelectronic laptop rap, as the music is so dense, academicallyflamboyant, technically nerdy, but superbly addictive after its hookshave sunk in. Some people claim that with an expensive video and theright promotion, this guy could be huge, but I think at this point hismusic is far more involved than the general public can handle. I lookforward to the "techno" album LaFata claims to be working on as even anold GC tune like "Burn Babylon" has the fabulous powers of sexy killerhooks. The question remains: if world domination is in the dreams ofGC, is he willing to dumb his music down for the masses? I sure as hellhope not.
MEGALITHOMANIA!
When it was announced that Coil would play their first live show inNorth America on August 18, 2001, I was shocked by what seemed like anincredible series of synchronicities. I had long considered Coil to beone of my favorite bands, but I thought there would be little or nochance of ever seeing them play live. Though they had recently begunplaying select concerts at some classy venues and festivals in Europe,they just seemed far too shadowy, eccentric and English to ever graceAmerican shores. Strangely, the day announced for the concert was notonly my birthday, butmy 23rd birthday, a number commonly involved with synchronicity, and anumber often mythologized by Coil themselves. Also, before hearing theannouncement, I had already planned a trip to New York City tocelebrate my birthday. It seemed as if mysterious forces had aligned into make certain that I would not miss this Coil performance. However, Idid not have very high expectations for the concert itself. Sure, Coilwere mind-bending and transcendent on record, but how could theircomplex, studio-hermetic sound possibly translate into a meaningfullive show? Coil's liveperformance is a revelation; a powerful, dramatic explosion of dynamicenergy, every bit as impressive as their recorded output, but somehoweven more potent and overwhelming. The absolutely massive soundachieved by Sleazy's digital programming, Thighpaulsandra's soaringsynthesizers and Jhon Balance's possessed outbursts clearly neededproper documenting on record. Recently, Coil inaugurated abackwards-unfolding series of four live CDs, each documenting adifferent "age" of their constantly evolving live show. To thosewilling to shell out nearly $200, Threshold House also offered alimited box set of all four discs, together with two extra CD-Rs and"art objects" allegedly "loaded with magickal intent".
LIVE FOUR
LIVE THREE
LIVE TWO
LIVE ONE
If "prog-esque overblown, overlong self-indulgent wankery" sounds like a bad thing or if comparison with Tales From Topographic Oceans carries un-cool implications then this CD may not be for you. I doubt that there remain many Brainwashed readers who still subscribe to the NME's Exclusion Principle, i.e. that to like The Fall you have to revile Yes, and it is to those thus enlightened readers that I'd recommend Just Drums.
Forget every "rule" of noise, do away with any preconceptions concernedwith the genre, and prepare for something just a bit different. Thereare silences, sonic abberations, variations in pitch, timbre, andduration, and a wide palette of moans, groans, and explosions used allat once. Variety and intrigue is the name of the game on Moonlight In Vermontand Emil Beaulieau is chess master (if you will). Sure, there'spunishing, unrelenting, cascading, headache-inducing assaults to befound on this disc, but there's also dynamic elements. Most noise I'veheard ends up sounding like one mass of destruction hell-bent onchewing concrete. Beaulieau's noise is different because he is capableof using sonically opposite sounds together. It could still eatconcrete for breakfast, though. The first half is a nuclear melt-downaccompanied by random samples (like a flute), electric stabs of rhythm,and the sound of unholy wails. If this is what a moonlit Vermont soundslike, I'm staying the hell out unless I have a shotgun and a smallarmy. It's a truly scary summit that is reached before the fifth track(all of them are unnamed) acts as an oxygen tank and restores somesense of direction and balance. What sounds like a backwards guitarhums in the background whilst changing tones, punchy gasps of static,and roaring winds pour through the speakers. It makes getting submergedbeneath the final two tracks a bit easier. Beaulieau's recorded soundhas as much character as his live performances have but it's twistedand shaped in different ways. Sounds just don't start and stop; they'realive and full of nuance. The last I checked, Moonlight was only available on the tour but with some luck perhaps it'll show up at RRRecords, soon. 
