Don't let the unpronouncable band name or low-tech cover put you off,this here's one of the best space-rock drone-pop records of the year.The five member group of D&D players includes Adam from Yume Bitsuand three members of Landing. It's patient, emotional, climactic andintense. Don't expect quietness however, as the barrage of guitarsenvelopes you like a cloud of the most potent marijuana smokeimaginable. You can get a contact high from this smoke however withoutdirect contact with the bong. Get comfortable on the livingroom couchin your rattiest flannel with a comfortable old blanket, turn the musicup really loud, stare up at the ceiling and daze for a few minutes.Minutes turn to hours, nightfall comes early and the lights go down allthroughout the house. Staring through glazed eyes the LED on your clockshows a time you can't figure which is AM or PM. Suddenly visions ofwalking through 4-foot drifts of neopolitan shaving cream enter yourhead. A plaid talking yak leads the way under the orange sky of anIndonesian sunset. Bubbles form and fail to burst, you stumble on LauraDern action figures and fall through a stitch in an oriental rug. Youwake with your mouth open, completely clothed, drool on the pillow andtwo fuzzy cats on your belly. The phone rang. Goddamnit.
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There's something undeniably irresistible about Maximilian Hecker's sugary sweet breathy falsetto and captivating pop melodies. The love for his music is a vice, like cigarette smoking or alcoholism: your first exposure feels rather disgusting but at some point, it becomes quite addictive. Soon, you're not allowed to be around your friends who don't indulge while you feel the need to indulge. It's embarrassing.
The title of the seventh cut, "Hassle Free Harmony", serves as anexcellent summation of the album in its entirety. Marc Bianchi returnsunder his HSH moniker with 'Manic Expressive', a release that iselegant, yet mellow and uncomplicated. From the three-minute stringarrangement of the opening track to the sweet and wispy vocals on "TheRinging in My Ears", the album blends an extensive assortment ofmusical sources, both organic and electronic. Melodically, the songsare aural decoupage: it's as if Bianchi gives the listener a sonicslide show, displaying bits and pieces of his favorite tunes by otherartists ("Dear Prudence" immediately springs to mind). The result,however, does not give the impression that these outside sources havebeen plundered, but rather form a charming homage. The juxtaposition ofan orchestral ebb and flow with subtle mechanical beats, hypnoticambient atmospherics and glistening guitar is handled with dexterity.Even when the otherwise humble songs surge with drama, Bianchi neverallows them to run amok. The orchestra pit warm-up that opens the firsttrack signals what is to come: the artistic and stylistic developmentof HSH since the previous effort, 'Home Is Where You Hang Yourself'.Break out the electric blankets; 'Manic Expressive' is perfectlistening for curling up in a warm bed on a snowy morning.
With only a single and a few collaborations out this year, Chicago's Locrian have been rather quiet, with this being their first (and so far only) full-length release of the year. The Clearing both recalls their earliest, noise-addled drone work while still looking forward to their current unique take on metal/prog/kraut rock.
Recorded inside a 100-year-old Washington state church, this duo of Japanese residents Corey Fuller and Tomoyoshi Date, utilizes the natural reverberations and ambience of the space in which it was recorded to craft a melancholy, emotional work that uses electronic and acoustic instruments together seamlessly.
Carsten Nicolai's latest album returns to the themes and concepts that he explored on 2008’s Unitxt (which has been reissued in a limited, artist edition to mark the release of the new album). Combining the ideas of a universal language, repetition and the relationship between data and sound, Nicolai has come up with a stunning collection of electronic music that bridges another one of the gaps between audio and visual art.
Industrial Records’ reissue series begins with the album that set the tone for a short but potent career. The group’s first album (mischievously titled in order to make people go looking for a non-existent First Annual Report) is a master class in subversive anti-music that still packs a punch. Remastered and released as an LP and also in an expanded CD edition; all the gory details have been put into sharp focus, reanimating the still warm corpse of Throbbing Gristle’s glory days.
Paul Gough's latest album borrows its title from a line in Russell Hoban's Riddley Walker, a dystopian novel where humanity regresses to a primitive, semi-literate state in the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust.  That reference seemed perfectly apt to Gough, as The Oansome Orbit drew much inspiration from meditations on loss, isolation, and disconnection.  Fertile themes for great art, certainly, but it was already pretty much a foregone conclusion that a new Pimmon album would be a noteworthy event: Gough has been making wonderfully complex and distinctive abstract soundscapes for more than a decade now and he only seems to get better with age.
Twenty years into Tom and Christina Carter's rich partnership, it has become next to impossible to identify outside reference points in their work. Charalambides exists in its own universe—insular, curtains drawn. Exile, their first release in four years, begins with "Autumn Leaves," a wordless prelude of Tom's austere guitar playing, setting the tone for the band's most laser-focused album since 2004's Joy Shapes.
