I'm not sure what possessed me to order this cd considering my recent overindulgent purchase of a "Merzbox" 18 disc box set, but I'm sure glad that I did.
We made it to 700 episodes. While it's not a special episode per se—commemorating this milestone—you can pretty much assume that every episode is special. This one features Mark Spybey & Graham Lewis, Brian Gibson, Sote, Scanner and Neil Leonard, Susumu Yokota, Eleven Pond, Frédéric D. Oberland / Grégory Dargent / Tony Elieh / Wassim Halal, Yellow Swans, Dental waste in Saigon photo by Krisztian. Get involved: subscribe, review, rate, share with your friends, send images!
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Wire's sudden reactivation in the early part of the 2000s was quite a welcome one. While the sporadic live shows they played during that time were refreshing, the new material that appeared with the release of the first Read and Burn EP demonstrated a true "revival" of the band, which culminated with this album. Now, seven years later, it is reissued with a second disc of harder to find and unreleased material, and sounds just as vital as it did in 2003. It also marks the end of Bruce Gilbert’s tenure with Wire, and perhaps the period with his most significant contributions to the band.
This album is a study in restraint. Opening with a libidinous blast, the duration is spent in an attempt to reign in on the passions released during the initial cacophony. These improvisations have been placed within a context of specific boundaries, allowing the musicians to explore particular modes of operation without being overwhelmed by the unlimited possibilities that sometimes stifle free form music.
After being unavailable for nearly a decade, this sprawling celebration of Andreas Martin and Christoph Heemann rarities and collaborations has finally been given its long-deserved reissue. Drawing from early solo material, H.N.A.S. releases, various compilation appearances, and unreleased pieces recorded between 1987 and 2000, this compilation offers a very eclectic and oft-fascinating window into the creative evolution of these eccentric and mysterious brothers.
The world didn't exactly end for Nigeria in the late 1960s, but it sure must’ve felt like it for most people, as a failed military coup led to a series of massacres and pogroms that ultimately snowballed into a full-scale civil war. One of the many casualties left in the wake of that chaos was Highlife music, which was far too breezy and urbane to remain relevant in the face of widespread death and turmoil—the youth of Nigeria craved something rawer and harder and they found it in American funk and British rock. Within a few short years, however, those outside inspirations were ingeniously assimilated into something all their own.
To glimpse the enduring possibilities which some people uncovered in the 1960s you could do worse than listen to the first three or four Incredible String Band records. The group merged folk traditions, personal memories, future hopes, and East/West philosophy with an amazing innocence, sincerity, and flow. The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter makes clear some key recording principles: have something worth saying, use your own voice, and get an engineer or producer who can properly document your expression.
In 1989, Christoph Heemann and Edward Ka-Spel decided to embark upon a tape-exchange project in hopes of creating "atmospheric/textural music." The duo soon enlisted several other talented folks from H.N.A.S. and the Legendary Pink Dots milieu and recorded an album's worth of raw material, which Heemann himself then combined, edited, and mixed into what became the band's debut. Ka-Spel has since stated that Mimir was a bit of a disappointment (though he liked the remixed version), as Heemann did not carve up the source material aggressively enough to realize their initial vision. Nevertheless, it seems they made an inventive and engrossing album despite themselves. This might be their best release.
Every music city in America has a group like the Second Family Band. Musicians will go to each other’s shows, hang-out, tour together, and maybe share rent on a house or practice space. Eventually they all end up in the same room together, jamming. Someone sets up a microphone, turns on the tape recorder and soon thereafter another album of "shadowy" group improv is set loose on the world. The Second Family Band matches the pattern, but with an important distinction: Their music is worth listening to.
