Since his 2006 debut full-length and 2007's Untrue, which stand as two of dubstep's crowning achievements, Burial has been relatively quiet, releasing a pair of collaborations with Four Tet and Radiohead's Thom Yorke in nondescript packaging. His new 12" on Hyperdub is a formal breaking of silence, then—his first solo work since Untrue.
Two new shows just for you. We have squeezed out two extended release episodes for this weekend to get you through this week. They contain mostly new songs but there's also new issues from the vaults. The first show features music from Rider/Horse, Mint Field, Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, Anastasia Coope, ISAN, Stone Music, La Securite, Bark Psychosis, Jon Rose, Master Wilburn Burchette, Umberto, Wand, Tim Koh, Sun An, and Memory Drawings. The second episode has music by Laibach, Melt-Banana, Chuck Johnson, X, K. Yoshimatsu, Dorothy Carter, Pavel Milyakov, Violence Gratuite, Mark Templeton, Dummy, Endon, body / negative, Midwife, Alberto Boccardi, Divine. Cow in Maui from Veronika in Vienna. Get involved: subscribe, review, rate, share with your friends, send images!
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On one of Nigel Ayers’ most recent musical efforts, his dissent against the nominal powers of church, state, and corporate enterprise are channeled into a chilled out, sinsemilla infused, studio session. These are protest songs without many words. This is a soundtrack for a revolution against reality itself. While Jah is not praised anywhere on the album, the spirit of liberation which is so much a part of ska, reggae, dub, and their children is apparent everywhere. It is obvious Nigel has studied the form. The tunes have been built from a solid blueprint of sub-bass beats and propulsive riddim. The reverberations, echoes, and background sound washes are subtle and complex. By washing off the grime he occupies a niche not emitted by diurnal producers.
I try to avoid using the word "challenging" in regards to music—it is typically either a dumb exaggeration, or simply untrue. In this case, however, "challenging" is not only entirely appropriate, but perhaps an understatement. Ehnahre play dissonant, cerebral music that is rooted in death metal, but also throws the rulebook out the window; their latest album is all the more appealing for its inaccessibility.
Over the last few years, Sheeran has been developing her craft as a solo performer. Occasional CD-R and download releases, along with regular live performance have shown her skills as a songwriter and a performer to be constantly increasing. Therefore it comes as no surprise to me that her debut album is absolute perfection. Every time I think that it has reached a peak, I am greeted with an equally good, if not better, song immediately afterwards.
Six years ago, Drag City tracked down outsider folk artist Gary Higgins and reissued his solitary lost album, 1973's Red Hash, a slow-burning work of art that was difficult to find on vinyl 30 years after its release. After that album and a new release by Higgins, 2009's overlooked Seconds, Drag City is now presenting Higgins' recordings made prior to Red Hash, a previously unreleased collection of six hushed, lovely songs that Higgins wrote and recorded in a Connecticut log cabin (eat your heart out, Bon Iver...) in 1970-71.
This second mix of eclectic roots underpinning the late-'70s musical revolution may irk the purists who feel Blue Cheer, Edgar Broughton, Faust, Parliament, Suicide, The Misunderstood, The Godz, Woody Guthrie and others weren't "punk." Actually, many of Kris Needs' choices make sense, although the lack of Dada tone-poetry is baffling.
Belong's second album (and first for Kranky) arrives half a decade after their debut full-length on Carpark and a couple of abbreviated, vinyl-only releases. Luckily, Common Era is worth the wait. This is my favorite recording that Belong have made—a collection of nine ambient, washed-out pop songs folded into a labyrinth of hazy, disorienting production, like a beautiful snapshot purposely taken out of focus, its colors smeared and bleeding into one another, blurry and dreamlike.
My ears rarely perk up at the prospect of any artist releasing a modular synth album, but Alessandro Cortini's recent career has been a wonderful exception thus far: some of the pieces on his Buchla-centric debut (2013's Forse) absolutely floored me. Moreover, he has yet to disappoint me since, as the handful of albums that followed in Forse's wake have largely adhered to that same impressively high level of quality: Cortini almost never releases a solo full-length that does not boast at least two legitimately amazing pieces. As such, he has definitively earned a place in my personal pantheon of great contemporary synth composers. Great artists tend to be great, however, because they restlessly expand and reshape their vision with new tools, new influences, and new ideas. In keeping with that tendency, Volume Massimo (Cortini's first album for Mute) marks a fairly significant stylistic departure from previous releases. For one, there are guitars. And on a structural level, many of these songs adhere to a very "pop" framework, which I suppose makes Mute the perfect home for this phase of Cortini's career: some songs on Volume Massimo song like they could have been deep cuts or instrumental B-sides from classic '80s synth pop albums. Other songs, however, still sound characteristically slow-burning and majestic. Those pieces tend to be the better ones (but not always).
Releases from this Swedish free-folk ensemble have historically not been particularly easy to obtain, as only their reissued debut (2015's Inom Dig, Inom Mig) has thus far seen wide distribution (and most are not digitally available either). Happily, their fifth album is now getting a well-deserved reissue too, as 2017's Det Finns Ett Hjärta Som För Dig ("There is a heart for you") will see a US physical release in December. I actually snapped up the original version when it came out on Omlott, as I love this band, but I have yet to hear the first three releases that followed Inom Dig. I am certainly curious to hear what directions they take, as the gulf between Enhet För Frei Musik's debut and this album is quite a large and unexpected one: Inom Dig had a disjointed, haunted, and almost Jandek-ian feel, whereas this latest opus blends simple, tender and melodic songs with wonderfully strange and hallucinatory collages. While both albums are excellent and unique in their own right, Det Finns Ett Hjärta Som För Dig sounds far more like the work of a project with a fully defined and realized identity.
