Bunker
I grew up a military brat and spent seven of my most formative years inGermany. At the time, I was a total b-boy, listening to classic hip hopthat was on the charts, like Run DMC, Beastie Boys, and Kool Moe Dee. Ihated rock music and wanted nothing to do with it. At the same time, Iwas being introduced to new music through a number of friends andacquaintances. During this time I heard my first taste of Kraftwerk,and the industrial electronics of any West German metropolis. It waskeyboard tones, glitch beats, and the low rumbles of electronic voicesand bass tones. Back then, we didn't really care what there was todance to, as long as we could dance to it. We'd bug out and breakdanceand robot to anything with a beat, which always seemed to amuse theteachers and parents. Secretly, we wanted to know where this music wasmade, as it always felt like it was being made by machines with AI soadvanced they knew just what could make us boogie; and we chastisedAmerican artists who did anything that used similar sounds, from HaroldFaltermeyer to Herbie Hancock, labelling them "posers" like they werestreet punks who didn't know any better. How wrong we were when we werejust reaching adolescence, but how easy it is for a record to bring allthat rushing back. Luke Eargoggle, one of the new gods of robotelectro, displays a clever range of styles all with the same palette onAudio Warriors,and it's a cheeky listen that got me right back to 1983. Each songbounces with energy of a classic sound with updated technology. Fromthe start, you want to move to it, dancing around the room like youjust don't care. "I want to be free to do what I want," says Luke, andit's like an anthem for body-moving. Different rhythms, but all withthat hip-hop style and electronic production, frame each track, asswirls and bumps highlight the computerized vocals that sometimescontain real lyrics and sometimes just exclaim ("Yeah, yeah!"). There'sreally not much more than that to this, but the music begs for thatkind of minimalism. It truly feels like Eargoggle's overjoyed layingthis to tape or hard drive. That energy is catching, and it's been along time since I had this much fun.
I grew up a military brat and spent seven of my most formative years inGermany. At the time, I was a total b-boy, listening to classic hip hopthat was on the charts, like Run DMC, Beastie Boys, and Kool Moe Dee. Ihated rock music and wanted nothing to do with it. At the same time, Iwas being introduced to new music through a number of friends andacquaintances. During this time I heard my first taste of Kraftwerk,and the industrial electronics of any West German metropolis. It waskeyboard tones, glitch beats, and the low rumbles of electronic voicesand bass tones. Back then, we didn't really care what there was todance to, as long as we could dance to it. We'd bug out and breakdanceand robot to anything with a beat, which always seemed to amuse theteachers and parents. Secretly, we wanted to know where this music wasmade, as it always felt like it was being made by machines with AI soadvanced they knew just what could make us boogie; and we chastisedAmerican artists who did anything that used similar sounds, from HaroldFaltermeyer to Herbie Hancock, labelling them "posers" like they werestreet punks who didn't know any better. How wrong we were when we werejust reaching adolescence, but how easy it is for a record to bring allthat rushing back. Luke Eargoggle, one of the new gods of robotelectro, displays a clever range of styles all with the same palette onAudio Warriors,and it's a cheeky listen that got me right back to 1983. Each songbounces with energy of a classic sound with updated technology. Fromthe start, you want to move to it, dancing around the room like youjust don't care. "I want to be free to do what I want," says Luke, andit's like an anthem for body-moving. Different rhythms, but all withthat hip-hop style and electronic production, frame each track, asswirls and bumps highlight the computerized vocals that sometimescontain real lyrics and sometimes just exclaim ("Yeah, yeah!"). There'sreally not much more than that to this, but the music begs for thatkind of minimalism. It truly feels like Eargoggle's overjoyed layingthis to tape or hard drive. That energy is catching, and it's been along time since I had this much fun. 
At the very least, the sound of Lazarus's lazy drawl and deliveryindicates someone who just woke up in the morning, if not actuallyrising from the dead. Guitars are plucked deliberately, syllables areenunciated slowly, and the music proceeds ploddingly. Sometimes it is arace between Montgomery's drawl and his guitar to see which can proceedmore slowly. Often they are neck and neck, two tortoises fumblingtowards a far-off finish line. The scratchiness of the vocals screamsfor a glass of water to dispel those early morning frogs in the throat.And on the fringes of the music are little electronic twiddlings which,at first, are more decorative than substantive but which eventuallycome to define the album. Lazarus is Trevor Montgomery, who has playedwith Tarentel and The Drift; this is his first solo album where heexplores some quiet acoustic compositions. The most unsettling (andfascinating) part of Lazarus's music is the ghostly background vocalswhich pop up in many songs. The background voice is a few octaveshigher than Montgomery's main voice, so it is hard to discern if it isthe same person singing them. But the background voice is alsochillingly more scratchy, unsteady, and frail. My impression was thatthere was a background banshee, rather than a human, singing. The firsthalf of the album maintains a monotony which is only broken by "Ocean(Burn the Highways)," a song which picks of the lagging pace and fillsin the space with some fine guitar plucking and a lively organ duringthe chorus. It also has the most unsettling instance of the backgroundbanshee vocals, where her voice threatens either to decomposealtogether or send us shivering to bed, curled up and frightened (thinkof the difference between Winona Ryder's characters in "EdwardScissorhands:" her young character in the film sounds normal, whereasher character as aged narrator has a geriatric, frail voice which stillmakes my hair bristle when I hear it). But the monotony persists in theother seven or so songs at the beginning of the album as they flowseamlessly into one another, not really making a name for themselves.Ironically, by the time the lovely short instrumental "(untitled)"comes about, Lazarus adds some interesting electronics to the limpingacoustics to spruce up the sound. The highlight of this is heard at theend of "Obviust" when vocals are overtaken by the more compellingelectronic frequency noodling. The last four songs are the mostcaptivating of the album, forecasting a darkness and a vision so bleakthat another resurrection might be in order. 
After a few years in which only a handful of Merzbow albums seemed toemerge, the typically prolific Masami Akita has returned to histraditional, aggressive release schedule. Having overcome theexhaustion associated with the fifty CD Merzbox, the past six months have offered a plethora of new material, including Frog, Merzbeat, Merzzow, the collaboration with Pan Sonic, and the Russell Haswell collaboration Satanstornade.Finally, Ant-Zen has stepped into the ring with this cleverly packaged4x3" CD set. Each disc offers a bite-sized portion of the diverselynoisy flavors of Merzbow's modern noise compositions. The ferocious"Warhorse" opens this collection with a wailing guitar loop that soonsubmits to the cacophony of abstract percussion and sizzlingsoundscapes. Far removed from his earlier work a la Music For Bondage Performance,the piece hits like an air raid and offers little relief through its 21minute duration. In contrast, the second CD opens with the minimal yetbassy rumblings of "Space Trackin," whose somewhat rhythmic structureexperiences constant interruption from static-laden frequencies. Itstays relatively consistent until roughly the last minute, evolvinginto a squeaky filtered bleep-beat experiment. The accompanying"Ramatam" combines a white hot sheet of electronics with hard rockdrums before yielding to the sounds of burning hard drives. Disc threecomes from the same mindset, if not the same recording sessions, of theMerzbeat project. Of the two tracks here, "Stone The Crow"appeals to me more with its steady, sludgy rock backbeat churning underan array of dominant, menacing squeals and hisses. The final CD soundsmost like an Ant-Zen release. From the onset of "CD Hunter," a reworkof the previously-available "AB Hunter," a muffled rhythm lays thefoundation for stream upon stream of digital noise. After giving allfour discs a good listen, it has become clear to me that Merzbow isreleasing some of the most creative and interesting work of his entirecareer.
Neon Hunk walks the line between quirky and totally annoying. They playtwisted jerky rock music that was probably inspired partly by Boredomsbut is nowhere near as fun. Certainly their garish artwork seemsgreatly in debt to Yamantaka Eye, but like the music it seems a littlediluted. I bet they like the Residents a bit too. Brutalism withkittens might mess up kitchen table if the totally distortedsynthesisers don't mess up the lettuce first and the clattering drumscould probably crush your tomato at fifty paces. I can't really say Ilike this album or don't like it, it just kind of craps about like aflappy kid who tries too hard and knocks everything over while I trynot to get annoyed that I'm not listening to Boredoms instead, and endup mixing metaphors instead of chopping up Robert Sandell from 'MixingIt' on Radio 3 to feed to my pack of hounds who all sound a bit likeXTC but not really and the rest of the CD is quite different and notvery good in actual fact. Not in this HC fact though, its all of thesame quality with a super-dumb drummer who clatters off a bit behindthroughout but that's his minimal charm. Mothmaster seems to be after afingernails-on-chalkboard sound on the synth but falls just short ofutter shrillness. Sometimes they even fuck about playing the tapesbackwards. Its like they wanted the lunatics to take over the asylumbut only got the toytown version with Larry the Lamb and Noddy jinglingbells all night until their mums shouted at them to shut the fuck up.The quasi-songs threaten to fall apart any minute but are usually overjust before that happens. The album is also really short, which mightbe a blessing in disguise but could be one good reason not to shell outfull price for it, if I haven't already put you off. Like Pink andBrown,they give their tracks humourous titles that aren't really very funny,but who cares what the songs are called anyway? They might be quiteamusing to catch live if they pull off silly moves to match the twistsand turns of the gargled unintelligible babbling screeching vocals.Neon Hunk seems like a one trick pony one leg short, but you might keepit around out of some kind of misguided pity. Someone should flog thislot to the Hoxton trendies fast, while they wait for an exciting newband called Radio 2 to pretend they wrote an old Gang of 2 song, whilstnot mentioning that wave, punk and core are now acceptable to theafternoon teatime set. At least Jonathan Ross will never play Neon Hunkon the radio, and that's the immoral of this sordid abortion. Don'teven think about getting this until you have the ultra heavy killerNoxagt album on Load. Fuck Neon Hunk, they couldn't even be bothered toget a classically trained viola player in the band, and what good isthat? 
The mix of smooth-jazz and four-on-the-floor beats on this new full-length is rather bland on this release from Shitkatapult, who is more commonly known for excellent releases that are usually somewhere between airy and desolate beat-driven songs and flat out boogie down, break out the boom box party pleasers. The grooves on Revolv_er do not always connect, however and I'm left feeling disappointed by its combo of live and electronic sounds.
Whether one enjoys these label-sampler compilations depends mostly onhow one's taste agrees with that of the person who runs the label.There are no record labels whose taste I agree with 100%, but I like alot of what LTM does, enough to keep me interested in what label-bossJames Nice decides to issue next. This CD compiles tracks from therecent batch of LTM releases with a few otherwise unreleased songs tosucker in the completists. Hell, it works for me, why not. LTM and itssub-label Boutique seem to have several related missions: to reissuemusic originally released by Factory (other than the bigshots, JoyDivision, Durutti Column, and New Order) to music by bands who might atsome point have had a record (even just a 7") on Factory, and torelease new music by bands who were on Factory long ago and are eitherstill going or who have been ressurected due to Nice's enthusiasm. Oneof those bands, Crispy Ambulance, has donated a live album from thierreunion tour as a bonus CD that comes free with the first run of "BlackMusic" CDs.
Listening to the overtly Eastern influenced percussion Angus Maclise plays on parts of this double CD, I can't help thinking that replacing him with Mo Tucker might've been the best thing that ever happened to the Velvet Underground. They're such different drummers, almost opposites, that you suspect Lou Reed had totally had enough of the hippy dippy guy who'd turn up to play gigs half an hour late and then carried on playing half an hour after the rest of the band finished. Tucker's monotonous tub thump became such a signature of that band that it's hard to imagine them any other way.
Further into the Angelika Koehlermann riddle, here is a release thatsurprised me by actually not being that bad. It's not really that good,either. However, I'm surprised that a release like this made it onto alabel that seems proud of its unbroken record of pure, unadulteratedsilly crap. B.O.S. is an Austrian trio whose sound is informed both byKrautrock and by current German lap-pop like The Notwist and Lali Puna.B.O.S.' songs use the classic Can formula: a dark, insistent bassrhythm that repeats ad infinitum, to which is added instrumental andpercussion overdubs, trance-inducing vocals, and galaxy of spaceyeffects. B.O.S. alternately use simple guitar chords, trumpet,clarinet, harp, toy percussion and burbling electronics to round outtheir kosmische music. None of these instruments are played with muchskill or virtuosity, but that's really not the point, is it? They havequite a knack for writing a pop hook, as well, even if you can't reallydecipher what the vocalist is singing. As a first release, O-Land showsa lot of promise. There's nothing terribly inventive about a song like"Bring Back," but it does have a passable atmosphere and a rathercatchy melody that make for an engaging listen. Unlike Ted Minsky andBoulder dDash, this album does not have me sprinting for the ejectbutton. Will the Angelika Koehlermann riddle ever be solved? I thinkAngelika herself sums it up best when she says "[My friend Gerhard]stopping swimming after an accident. He's finally like sinking to thebottom of his lonely life. I also try to get home in a way. I had ahouse some times ago, but one day, I went there, and the house haddisappeared." There is absolutely nothing I can add to that statement. 
Ted Minsky is actually Anne Grabow. Why has Anne Grabow chosen such a masculine moniker? Who is Anne Grabow? Who, for that matter, is Angelika Koehlermann? That's like asking who Betty Crocker is. Someone. Anyone. No one. And in the end, does it matter? What evidence can we glean from the press release? Nothing important, it seems, except that Ted Minsky is described alternately as a "young costume designer" and as a "super-architect" leading us "to the borders of pop music." This is pure hyperbole, I'm afraid.
The further I investigate, the more Angelika Koehlermann seems to be a fictional character. According to the press release, she is a girl from Paris who, on a whim, took a train to Koln and met a guy who suggested that they "make an electronic music label." She decided to try her hand at playing "guitar tracks for Japanese young people."
