16 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

I have historically had a very complicated relationship with William Basinski's work, as he has released some absolutely brilliant albums over the years, but he has also proven himself just as capable of producing fairly forgettable ambient music and/or flogging a single simple motif to death for a seeming eternity.  This latest effort lies somewhere in the middle of those two poles, as the blurred, uneasy title piece favorably calls to mind a more hallucinatory Morton Feldman, while the closing "The Trail of Tears" gradually devolves into an especially cold, dull, and dreary strain of dark ambiance that is best avoided.

2062

I will never understand the bizarre alchemy that takes place, but it seems like almost all of Basinski's best work seems to result when he revisits and reworks recordings that he originally made 20 or 30 years ago.  "Nocturnes" is the latest such work in that vein, as it is built from a hyper-minimal tape and prepared piano composition from William's "San Francisco period" of 1979 to 1980 (I will ignore the fact that it is funny to attribute roughly 8 notes to a year-long period in one's life).

The piece's sole motif is quite a simple and bleak one, consisting entirely of a sad, skeletal descending piano melody and a couple of repeating chords, but Basinski somehow transforms it into something much weirder and deeper with his tapes: the notes all sound hazy, warped, and decayed and a queasy after-image trails behind each one.  Other than that, seemingly not much happens until the halfway mark (roughly 20 minutes in), at which point an insistent low whine joins the fray, making it sound like even the tape player is falling apart.  That turns out to be the piece's crescendo (of sorts) and it unfolds for quite some time, before gradually fading away to leave only the original motif.  If it were any shorter, it probably would not work nearly as well, but at just over 40 minutes, I had plenty of time to become fully mesmerized by its languorous spell.

Curiously, the more recent "The Trail of Tears" (2009) is much shorter and contains more themes, but feels comparatively uninspired and interminable.  It begins with some promise, however, as a somber, almost moaning melody repeats amidst a bleary haze.  Unfortunately, the haze gradually consumes the melody completely, leaving only a long stretch of forlorn-sounding murk with only some buried vestiges of the previous melody remaining. Later, a different motif appears that sounds like a glacially slowed-down and pitch-shifted cello ensemble playing at the bottom of a deep cavern.

Aesthetically, it seems to inhabit a stylistic gray area somewhere between early Caretaker (at best) and some of Cold Meat Industries' most unapologetically gloomy ambient releases (at worst).  I suppose that appeals to some people (like Robert Wilson, who borrowed an excerpt from this piece for his opera The Life and Death of Marina Abramovic), but I found it quite dull and dour coming from a composer of Basinski's stature.  In William's defense, I grant that the piece's floating emptiness was an aesthetic choice rather than a failure, but other people have covered that territory quite thoroughly already.  I will not necessarily say they covered it better, but that is solely because music in that vein all sounds the same to me.

Within the context of Basinski's discography, I would describe Nocturnes as a solid "second tier" release: not nearly as canonical as some of his other albums (92982, El Camino Real, The Disintegration Loops, etc.), but still quite a fine album in its own right if I pretend that "The Trail of Tears" is merely a bonus track (which is exactly what I intend to do).  It is very easy to be hard on William given his stature and my corresponding expectations, as the cynical part of me cannot help but note that Nocturnes sounds like it could have been realistically bashed out on a laptop in a single afternoon.  However, there is a definite artistry in surrendering the ego and letting go when something so simple sounds so perfect : anyone can loop a few piano notes for forty minutes, but it takes real vision to actually do it and have it come out sounding like some sort of spectral, rippling nightmare.

• Nocturnes (excerpt one)
• Nocturnes (excerpt two)
• The Trail of Tears

 

16 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

This was my first exposure to the work of video artist/composer JR Robinson and it more or less left me absolutely flattened.  You've Always Meant So Much To Me is ostensibly just a single drone piece Robinson wrote to soundtrack one of his films, but a far better description is probably "a veritable Murderers' Row of Chicago's finest black metal and noise musicians converged at Steve Albini's studio to perform a truly crushing, slow-burning, and blackened epic."  More remarkable still: the album is even better than that sounds.

Thrill Jockey

Given the brutal lineage of many of the performers involved (Leviathan, Nachtmystium, Bloodyminded, etc.), it came as a great surprise to me that You've Always Meant So Much To Me starts off sounding a lot like something off of Windy & Carl's We Will Always Be and stays that way for a deliciously long time.  That comparison is a very high compliment coming from me, but it is definitely warranted by the subtly swaying drones, simmering guitar noise, soft female vocals, exhale-like hissing, and warm beauty that unfolds.  In fact, there is no hint of menace to be found at all until around the 12-minute mark, when a high-pitched, quavering whine swells in and harmonizes dissonantly with the underlying drones.  Some crackling inhuman howls appear as well, alleviating any doubts I may have had about whether or not the piece was about to take a very ugly turn.

As jarring as that intrusion sounds, the piece still somehow stays relatively melodic, as the nerve-rattling thrum is perversely soon joined by a looping acoustic guitar arpeggio.  The tension never lets up though, which is why You've Always Meant So Much to Me actually transcends the incredible promise of its opening.  From that point onward, it grows steadily more dense and complicated in two separate directions at once: the melodic bed is lushly augmented with viola, cello, and harmonium while the undercurrent of dread expands in both texture and heft to create a roiling, overwhelming juggernaut of equal parts beauty and nightmare.  Then it all erupts around the 22-minute mark and all of the very patient black metal guys finally get to unleash their howling catharsis.

As explosive and well-earned as the crescendo is, it marks the point where the composition downgrades from "pure genius" to merely "great."  Admittedly, black metal is not my favorite thing, but my critique is somewhat objective in that the howling vocals and distorted power chord riffing are very contemporary and fix the piece at a very specific place in time.  That does not make it any less heavy though and the band deftly avoids all of the cartoonishness and excess that I normally associate with the genre.  Also, to Robinson's credit, I have absolutely no idea what else he could have done instead, as he maintained a smoldering intensity and tension for an improbably long time and a metal eruption is unquestionably a very effective way to release all that accumulated power.  Also, I like the idea of music this brutal and black-hearted being performed in museums (this piece was debuted at Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art, for example).

After the fury subsides, the composition winds down with a melancholy denouement/fade-out centered around harp, viola, and harmonium with a bit of Tuvan throat singing tossed in for good measure.  It does not come close to recapturing the magic of the piece's first half, but it is still a very effective come-down.  Also, that magic was probably impossible to recapture anyway, as the first 20-minutes of You've Always Meant So Much To Me are basically as good as music can possibly get.  Which is even more remarkable when I remember that this album is actually just a soundtrack to accompany one of Robinson's films, making it just one facet of a multimedia work.  Also, I had never even heard of Robinson until this album came out.  That makes some sense, since he seems to have primary traveled in high art circles as a field recordist/installation artist, but I now have a gnawing sense that I have been missing out on something important.  In any case, I definitely need to track down that film now.  This guy is a monster.

• Excerpt One
• Excerpt Two
• Excerpt Three

 

16 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

This double disc set is an expanded reissue of the first two 17 Pygmies albums and their debut EP Hatikva. It is a fine document of the group formed by Savage Republic member Philip Drucker (aka Jackson Del Rey) in an attempt to make music that was more melodic than SR.

LTM

In 1982 Los Angeles, Jackson Del Rey and Robert Loveless of Savage Republic got together with fellow UCLA students Debbie Spinelli and Michael Kory as the first incarnation of 17 Pygmies. Del Rey wanted to explore new melodic horizons, but the first track on the new group's debut EP—a weird, satisfying, surf and eastern cover of the theme from David Lean's epic "Lawrence of Arabia"—is not a huge departure from SR, in terms of rhythmic intensity and tone. "Child Bride" is odder, with some bizarre organ breaks that conjure frightening images of surreal television quiz shows. I half expect Del Rey to say "now let's see this week's prizes..."

Overall, though, these two discs are bright and accessible, and full of examples of relaxed experimentation, appealing spontaneity, and intriguing variety. Simple piano figures, brief outbursts of benign tribal percussion, an accidental zen aesthetic, folky restraint, and most of all simplicity.

The taut instrumental "To No Avail" has vague shades of a post-Joy Division sensibility—but as if that group had been forced to play in terrible desert heat or underwater. Spinelli had to be persuaded to sing on "Vows" but she manages to carry it off and become the group's main vocal contributor. She certainly sounds more confident by "Words Never Said," the opening track to the band's first album Jedda By The Sea. Loveless had contributed artwork for the EP and by this time had joined the group, while Kory had left. The loose collective approach meant that Del Rey and Loveless brought six songs originally intended for the second Savage Republic record to Jedda, while fellow member Bruce Licher kept the SR name.

Jedda is a charming and compact recording. "Waiting to Arrive" is punchy and crisp, while the short, odd, instrumental "Still Waters" is both melancholy and jaunty. 17 Pygmies songs typically have an airy quality with simple tunes communicating clear feelings. Singing on "The Living," Spinelli very nearly calls up the long-lost pastoral spirit of Virginia Astley. Equally, the opening beats of "Tropical Grasslands" almost imitate those of China Crisis's "African and White."

Depending on your point of view, Captured in Ice either tails off badly or is a splendid frankensteinian mutation. The first half of the release is an obvious continuation of the 17 Pygmies ethos, with simple yet affecting tunes such as "Suit of Nails," "Voices," "Monday," "Shade," and the heavier "Icarus," to the fore. But the second half appears to go off on an unrelated tangent. That is because, for reasons I am not exactly clear on, Jackson Del Ray completed these tracks to a last-minute deadline in a rush job of spontaneity and bodging together. I like the contrast, but can see how others might feel the opposite.

Of these pieces, the stark beauty of "Home Again" stands out, and wouldn't be out of place on a later Bill Fay release, as one of his more sentimental moments.

Eventually 17 Pygmies disbanded, but after a seventeen year absence, they returned in 2007 with a double disc 13 Blackbirds / 13 Lotus and a select few performances. Since then Del Ray & The Sun Kings have released various scores for classic film, including Nosferatu and Battleship Potemkin. 17 Pygmies also released Celestina, a space rock adventure that comes with a short story and screenplay all of which puts me in mind, once again, of the highly creative English group Sudden Sway. I am keen to catch up on that release, having developed some genuine affection for 17 Pygmies; they have charm, exhibit cross-cultural influences without much pomposity, and display a refreshingly modest approach to creativity.

16 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

Pan•American's first record in four years comes timidly, marked by magnificently produced songs on eggshells and generally downplaying every one of its own notes. Now a performing band with the addition of Steven Hess and former Labradford bandmate Bobby Donne, the project of Mark Nelson adds a few elements of traditional rock music to his palate but only in the scarcest concentrations possible. What was once scattered becomes rhythmic, melodic, and occasionally more sporadic but still as sparse.

Kranky

Touting this as a "live band" record as Kranky has done gives me a different sense of interpreting each song on the album. The opener, "The Cloud Room," is as much crystalline production as it is musicianship, where each note sounds like a long night's labor in the making. Nelson's bowed guitar wafts along in dim decaying tones and Bobby Donne's bass hums patiently, while Steven Hess' excellent drumming, especially in his persistent use of riveted cymbals, glimmers with glassy beauty. "Fifth Avenue 1960" stirs the placid waters with an irritating high pitched sine amidst deep thunderous rumbling, and "Relays" uses a 4/4 kick pattern like a heartbeat, crossing effortlessly back and forth between ambient music and some distant cousin of dub techno's watery pulse.

The new dynamic makes for an easy entry into different song styles. With even the slightest addition from Donne's bass, Pan American turns "Project For An Apartment Building" into mock techno where it was at first a meandering clatter of hi hats and distant drones. Hess' contributions feel the most substantial, improving a multitude of songs heavy in middle frequencies by adding crisp, distinctive drum patterns. Only on the final track, "Virginia Waveform," does it feel like they are cutting loose, and even then it's a patient, cyclical, scholarly looseness, exactly as free and jammy as Mark Nelson had dictated they were allowed to be. For the most part, though, the band's chops lie in their jazzy simplicity, adding only the most necessary notes to complete the picture. So I don't fault Nelson for this more subtractive approach to performing.

In fact, the band often reaches such an immediate consummate atmosphere, just lingering on its perfect notes, that it seems an afterthought to fill it with direction. If I had to hold one major complaint against the album, it would be that once the band's pastoral ambiance is established, Pan•American often has no idea what to do from there besides listlessly wandering, appreciating their own schemes and textures like they were staring at monuments. Still, it's a gorgeous piece of audio tourism, so I'm content to just listen and drift along to it too.

samples:

• The Cloud Room
• Glass Room At the Airport
• Project for an Apartment Building

16 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

Consisting of the pair of artists that curate the Menstrual Recordings label, who have been heavy on the MB reissues, it is not at all surprising that Dedali and Disruptor’s grey, depressive electronics owe a notable debt to Bianchi’s legacy. However, their music stands entirely on its own, both in its emphasis on audio visual presentation and their approach to sound design. The lineage of this lavish CD/DVD set is clear, but the two manage to carve out their own niche as well.

Menstrual Recordings

The music contained on the CD portion of this package is a different mix than what scores the accompanying short films, so while the two share some similar moments, each disc is it is own distinct entity.The stand alone audio disc, Neurological Possession, is a great example of a modernized take on that bleak electronic sound pioneered by the likes of Bianchi, and also Murder Corporation and Atrax Morgue, but having a more inviting, almost classically musical timbre to it.The first of the three-part title suite is all reverberated drifts and cavernous noises, with a few snippets of mantra like voices appearing throughout, emphasizing the theme of religious fervor that is the predominant theme of the work.

The second and third parts are quite different from one another, with the former consisting mostly of shifting and almost melodic passages of sound, with a DX7 synthetic bell tolling in the mist.As a whole, it is the most spacious and inviting performance here, if still somewhat sad and morose.The third part is much more of a grimy analog synth throb that channels Bianchi more directly, as it does some of Atrax Morgue’s less aggressive material.This especially makes sense, given it was constructed using the late Pierpaolo Zoppo’s (Mauthausen Orchestra) equipment.

The long closer "Internal Bleeding" takes up almost half of the disc, and uses that extended time to stretch out and float into many different directions.Made up partially of demos, sketches, and pieces of material that were recorded for a collaboration with Maurizio Bianchi, it encapsulates the sound of the album perfectly, balancing reverb heavy tones and percussive bits with some of its harsher moments.

The video accompaniment is notably more traditional in its approach, relying on lots of grainy black and white footage of nudity, graveyards, and religious iconography that are reminiscent of avant garde cinema filtered through a more cliché giallo toolkit. Other videos are expanded to images of social unrest, pornography, and medical footage, which is an obvious antecedent of works by SPK and Cabaret Voltaire some 30 years prior.It is nothing new or groundbreaking on its own, but it does fit the early 1980s industrial sensibility of the project very well, albeit not feeling quite as evolved as the music does.

Both a fitting tribute and a splendid, modernized update to the Italian industrial scene from the past, this audio visual collaboration is as much of a tribute as it is a new phase in a familiar sound.Admittedly, the audio portion is a bit more singular than the video is, but both have a distinct familiarity and nostalgia about them that makes even the occasional cliché endearing and enjoyable.Like a film that can recapture the essence of an era without always pushing it into new territories, it is engaging and tinged with just enough nostalgia to feel right.

samples:

• Neurological Possession 1
• Neurological Possession 3
• Internal Bleeding

 

16 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

The first collaboration between Kazuyuki Kishino and Cristiano Lucani is a mass of mangled samples, processed field recordings, electronics, and piano that at times resembles an understated take on harsh noise, and at other times a sloppy, yet engaging mess of sounds. While an intense devotion to structure and composition might not be here, there are more than enough pleasurable noises and small, but fascinating outbursts to more than make up for that

CX Records

Across these five untitled pieces, the dynamic jumps and skips around hyperactively, never settling into one style or approach for too long.For instance, the first piece leads off with chirping noises and squelchy, spastic electronics propelled by an unconventional, yet distinctly rhythmic undercurrent that guides it along.It feels like the legion of noises someone like Merzbow might create, but with less abrasive components.The second half thins things out to clicks, piano improvisations, and odd alien atmospheres to close the piece in a much different way than it began.

The second segment immediately eschews subtlety and instead goes right into a dense insect swarm of harsh noise that eventually disintegrates into undulating electronics and a ring modulated rattling that is at times painful.This is all before settling into a glitch-ridden passage of disturbing ambience that conjures dark, obscured images of creatures lurking in the darkness.The third comes across even more of a collage feel with rhythmic throbs and a later emphasis on water and field recordings, complete with frogs and aquatic life that seemingly bounds from one setting to another.

The fifth piece especially has the most hyperactive qualities to it.Cut up and scattershot samples are thrown recklessly atop a bed of slowly pulsing electronics that makes for the only constant throughout the otherwise chaotic composition.The fourth segment demonstrates a bit more of a order to the entropy, however.Even amidst the stop/start stabbing electronics, a sense of organization can be heard, first directing everything towards an old school wall of harsh noise, but then stripping it away, leaving only the most sparse and delicate bits of the album to be heard.

Album does not necessarily feel like the most appropriate descriptor for Proto Planet.There does not seem to be any clear overarching sense of structure or composition notable throughout.Instead it comes across more as a series of sonic miniatures:captivating collages of processed field recordings and mutilated electronics that take multiple listens to pull apart.It is a case where cohesion is unnecessary, and instead it works best as a compilation of sounds that jerkily jump from one passage to the next, making it easy to dive in at any point and enjoy what is there.

samples:

• 01
• 04
• 05

 

03 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

Originally issued on the Flingco Sound System label in 2010, this Virginian trio's full-length album is on CD for the first time, complete with two previously unreleased bonus songs. Homegoing is a powerful, yet light suite of electronic pieces that proves that intensity does not have to be oppressive or forceful.

Hand-Held Recordings

Most of the songs consist of indistinct electronics that do not resemble any specific sort of instrumentation, but insteadblend together perfectly."Streaming Wisdom" is a light, drifting work of reverberated tones that float around like a cloud in the clearest blue sky. It is only on "Yoke" that the moderately processed tones of a cello can be heard, fragmented and cascading outwards.

The title song initially begins the same, with light-infused tones and textures that glisten about until a slow transition to a dourer, somber feel that is no less beautiful."Mirror" balances the dark and light as well, but throughout the song, mixing an almost overdriven, bassy undercurrent that lurks beneath the more buoyant layers.

This contrast is perhaps the most stark and dramatic on the nearly 11 minute "Dead Bird," which leads off with a single reverberating and echoing tone.Slowly that tone is stretched, paired with what sounds like a voice fragment and additional electronic elements.It builds to a rich, colorful pastiche of sounds and an almost rhythmic wind chime throb that slowly transitions to darker, bleaker realm in its conclusion.

The two additional pieces that are added to this digital issue are rather different in comparison, demonstrating a rougher, more dissonant version of the band."12:12" brings up harsh noise like squeals of sound, reverberated and put aside cheap synth pulses to create a weird hybrid of droning electronics and ugly electronic noise.A Pan•American remix of "Prieure" concludes the album, again taking a harsher route.Static heavy sputters shoot out over a power-line like hum, with feedback and static fading into focus here and there.It is not as dissonant as "12:12," but it definitely is more spiny and nasty than the main album.

There is a clear sense of power and strength throughout Homegoing, but it is muted, laconic to some extent.It is this self-imposed restraint that makes those moments where it shifts or changes shine through greatly, such as the harsher elements on the bonus tracks, or the move toward more somber territories on the title piece.Beautiful is a term that is dropped far too often when discussing music, but it is entirely appropriate here, with its soaring electronics and clear, forceful moments of tonal drift.

samples:

• Yoke
• Dead Bird
• Prieure (Pan American remix)

 

02 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

Colleen Kinsella and Caleb Mulkerin have been responsible for some of my favorite music for years, but Big Blood is a significantly weirder, more unpredictable, and prickly entity than the duo's previous outlet, Fire on Fire.  While they are almost always compelling and distinctive, Big Blood's voluminous output, occasional shrillness, general inscrutability, and stylistic variability can make them a hard band to fully embrace.  Fortunately, this gorgeous double LP captures captures Colleen and Caleb at their absolute best, occupying the bizarre, lonely nexus where Appalachian folk, ritual, sound art, vintage Egyptian pop, and deep psychedelia intersect.

Feeding Tube/dontrusttheruin

This seems to be loose concept album of sorts, as the title and many of the songs make allusions to Yevgeny Zamyatin's dystopian classic We, a novel that I have embarrassingly not yet read.  Fortunately, my egregious literary ignorance does not inhibit my enjoyment of this effort at all, aside from perhaps making an already cryptic, arcane album slightly more so.  Possible deeper meaning aside, Radio Valkyrie certainly sounds a lot like an otherworldly, late-night radio transmission, which is both thematically appropriate and eerily evocative.  In some cases, that resemblance is quite overt, as swooping shortwave radio-like feedback appears in several songs (most prominently in "Into the Wild, Part I") and there are a few ominous, tinny interludes on the first record that sound like a distant, distorted signal pregnant with menace.  In other cases, the effect is achieved more subtly, as these songs all share a deeply hallucinatory, nocturnal feel.

Stylistically, however, Radio Valkyrie is all over the map, as the sole constant thread seems to be Colleen Kinsella's ragged, unusual vocals (usually heard though a thin haze of static or distortion).  As much as I enjoy Caleb's own unique vocals (sort of a strangled hillbilly yelp), it is fitting that only Colleen sings here, as her Siren-esque, force-of-nature vocals are ideally suited for such a hazily unearthly suite of songs.  Or, more accurately, "songs."  Despite being a double album, there are very few conventionally structured songs here, particularly on the second album: Radio Valkyrie leans very heavily on abstract collages and droning soundscapes.  Fortunately, the few songs that do appear are almost invariably excellent and the surrounding instrumental interludes are so effectively moody and surreal that they could easily carry an album on their own.

The best pieces, of course, are the ones that sound like absolutely no one else.  The most striking of those is probably "Sanati," which seems to be a Layla Murad (or Leila Mourad) cover of sorts, though translations vary and I cannot read Arabic well enough to confirm that (or at all, actually).  Regardless, I am sure it sounds nothing like the original, as this version is built upon little more than hollow, funeral procession percussion, a haze of uneasy feedback, and Kinsella's possessed-sounding wails and chants.  "Sirens Knell, Part II," for its part, is even more brilliantly warped, sounding like an unholy collision of torch song; eerily dissonant Natural Snow Buildings-style flutes; backwards, wrong-sounding guitars; and a malfunctioning gramophone.

Of course, Radio Valkyrie is not without its flaws, but this is probably as close to a perfect album as anyone could expect from Big Blood and the "flaws" in question are mostly relative.  For example, the opening "40 Days and 40 Nights" would probably be a highlight on any other album, but sounds too conventionally "Big Blood" to fit on such an otherwise ambitiously mind-bending effort as this one.  I had a similar issue with the somewhat shrill sludge rock of "Everything is Improving."  It is not necessarily weak, but this is just not the ideal place for a stomping "rock" song with snarling wah-wah guitar.  Conversely, however, there is absolutely no filler to be found anywhere and the two records are otherwise thoroughly unique, wonderful, coherent, immersive, complex, haunted-sounding, and totally brain-melting, which renders any minor wobbles fairly irrelevant.  This is the album I have been waiting for from Caleb and Colleen: Radio Valkyrie is Big Blood's masterpiece.

Samples:

• Cast Iron Hand
• Sirens Knell, Pt. II
• Sanati

 

02 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

Lovesliescrushing's 1992 debut bloweyelashwish inarguably stands as one of the greatest shoegaze albums of all-time, but its dreamy, warped guitars had the unfortunate effect of dooming the hapless Scott Cortez to a lifetime of Kevin Shields comparisons, a situation that is probably not helped at all by the Shields-ian infrequency of LLC's major releases.  Case in point: Ghost Colored Halo is the first album that Cortez and bandmate Melissa Arpin-Duimstra have actively recorded together in over a decade.  That reunion seems to have been a fruitful one creatively, but not without some caveats.  I would not necessarily call this effort a return to form (its a bit more understated and drone-minded than Cortez's best work), but its better moments are are just as sublimely beautiful as ever.

Projekt

It is very difficult for an outsider to fully grasp lovesliescrushing's creative trajectory, as their discography is filled with diversions, experiments, remixes, side projects, and unearthed/reworked early recordings.  However, in many ways, it seems quite reasonable to view Ghost Colored Halo as the long-awaited follow-up to 1996's Xuvetyn, as Scott and Melissa are back to recording woozy, dreamlike soundscapes together on analog tape rather than exploring the potential of the unaccompanied human voice or digitally assembling albums from their seemingly vast backlog of unused recordings.  In fact, the duo have even surpassed the aesthetic purity of their early days by recording this album "live" at Melissa's house with no overdubs.

Musically, these pieces do not sound at all like they were recorded in single takes, as Cortez is something of a loop wizard.  On the more drone-like pieces, like "Blemished Sunspot" and "The Wounds That Won't Heal," Scott piles on layer after layer until he achieves a churning sea of guitar noise, but the more compelling and distinctive moments tend to be the more fragile, delicate ones.  For example, the album's clear highlight is "The Tiger Hunts Alone," which is built upon little more than a bittersweet, languorously repeating arpeggio and Melissa's ghostly, heavily reverbed cooing.  That apparent simplicity is deceptive, however, as Cortez beautifully manipulates the coloration and dynamic of the central motif with subtle rumbles, swells, shimmers, and after-images.  The epic closer, "Blacklight Thundering Halo," is quite stunning as well, evoking fleeting flickers of light emerging from masses of giant, slow-moving dark clouds.

Unfortunately, there is a definite downside to recording in such a back-to-basics way: the sound quality tends to suffer. I am generally not passionate about sound quality at all, but the murkiness of this particular effort is a bit of a problem for me, as it makes this a significantly less dynamic and distinctive album than it should be.  A somewhat muddy recording of Scott Cortez painstakingly creating drone music with complexly interweaving layers of guitars sounds an awful lot like drone music by any number of other artists, which is very frustrating.

Of course, some aspects of the album actually benefit from the corroded sound quality (Arpin-Duimstra's vocals, the cleaner, more fragile guitar motifs, etc.), but the overall effect is not ideal.  I understand that the process was creatively invigorating and I am certainly glad to have Scott and Melissa working together again, yet I cannot help but feel that this could have been a much better album without the self-imposed limitations.  While Cortez has definitely proven that he is an absolute master at wielding loops and effects pedals in real-time, that feat does not matter all that much on the listening end.  That said, this effort still boasts some great songs (and no bad ones), so long-time fans will find a lot to enjoy.  My disappointment is probably rooted much more in my very high expectations than in Ghost Colored Halo's shortcomings–I wanted Cortez to reclaim his throne as a dream-pop visionary, but I only got an enjoyable drone album with a few flashes of brilliance.  I suppose things could be a lot worse.

• The Tiger Hunts Alone
• Whitening Glos
• Blacklight Thundering Halo

 

02 June 2013

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Albums and Singles

Miles Whittaker can’t be stopped. As one-half of Demdike Stare, as Suum Cuique, and now as Miles, he has released a string of records that have vanished almost as soon as they have appeared. Unsecured follows his first full-length under the Miles moniker, rounding out its low-key tones and subdued colors with four coarse and heavy techno productions. Like his other records, it’s also likely to disappear soon—and for good reason.

Modern Love

Faint Hearted, Whittaker’s first full-length for Modern Love as Miles, was sold out and unavailable almost before it was released. On it, atmosphere and dusty effects take precedence over melody; and stiff, sputtering rhythms—that remind me of Plastikman’s "Spastik" —constitute the music’s driving force. There aren’t many hooks and there isn’t much to dance to, but the album’s quiet magic won me over with repeat plays. It was the first techno record to win me over this year.

Unsecured is the second, and it blows Faint Hearted out of the water. It leaps out of the gate with "Blatant Statement," an explosive production propelled by sizzling percussion and a slippery 303 pattern catchier than anything on the full length. Miles beefs it up with the kind of cold synthesizer chords I’m absolute sucker for and keeps the tension running high for the next six minutes. The song doesn’t stop so much as it falls over. The melody sputters and trips, and falls head over heels.

The momentum carries into "Technocracy" —a cooler, but still forward moving dub track with an off-kilter rhythm and a hip-commanding low end— and on to the second side, where "Infinite Jest" erupts with a massive four-on-the-floor rhythm and a synth lead almost dirty enough for Pan Sonic. There is nothing subtle about it. It just pounds away for seven and a half minutes in full-on caveman glory.

"Plutocracy" winds the EP down with a darker atmosphere and some more of those cold synthesizer chords. This time they actually cool things off, as the record ends to the sound of their ominous moaning. But I’d honestly rather hear more like the first three songs. Faint Hearted is a good record for chilling out. Unsecured is great because it rocks so damn hard.

samples:

• You can listen to Unsecured in its entirety for free on the Modern Love website.