24 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

With Eleh having cemented themself as perhaps the modern minimalist, their split LPs have become a fascinating journey into the genre’s old guard such as Pauline Oliveros and Ellen Fullman as well as platforms for newer artists like Sun Circle, and in this case, Duane Pitre. As usual, Eleh’s hardcore analogue drones are well matched by Pitre’s feather-light just intonation harmonics. Both sides reflect different aspects of minimalism’s past without being pale shadows of those earlier pioneers. In fact, Eleh and Pitre demonstrate that despite a bloated market filled with crappy drone acts there is still plenty of life and room for invention in minimal music.

Important Records

"Empty Summer Endless" at first seems like a return to the smooth, almost subsonic bass drones that Eleh had been exploring on their first few releases. However, occasional flutters of higher timbres and midrange tones reveal the continued experimentation with acoustics that have become more and more central to Eleh’s music. Time stands still as subtle and delicate waves gently disturb the air and Eleh’s music pacifies with its alien aesthetic. Eleh takes the same foundations as Eliane Radigue’s Trilogie de la Mort and constructs a miniature excursion into the void. There is little in the way of colour here, this is pitch black drift through the night sky.

Pitre’s side of the LP is the sound installation version of his work Feel Free (previously reviewed by our own Anthony D'Amico in April). In contrast to Eleh’s side, this is a kaleidoscopic excursion into harmonics as Pitre uses a scale in just intonation to form an almost living piece of music. Where Eleh moves in straight lines and gradients, Pitre moves in ever-changing vectors and discrete changes in spectra. A touchstone for this (aside from Pitre’s own albums) would be Catherine Christer Hennix’s Electric Harpsichord with its prismatic clusters of evolving patterns.

Compared to the album version of Feel Free (played by an ensemble), this software-driven variant should sound skeletal but, even reduced to just a computer generating patterns from sound files, Pitre’s work remains vibrant and really does feel free. Granted, the full sound from the main album is missing but here the precision and the clarity of the piece’s backbone are captured in sharp focus. It is dazzling and sounds both tremendously complex and deceptively simple at the same time, almost like a molecule of DNA. It is too bad this is not on CD as I would love to hit the repeat button and listen to it forever.

 

24 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

This unusual release is the fruit of a three-year project in which Valles sampled, manipulated, and collaged material from Nonesuch's '60s and '70s avant-garde heyday.  Drawing upon the work of luminaries such as Charles Ives and Elliot Carter (using the original vinyl, naturally), Damian has woven together a crackling and vibrantly textured drone opus that doubles as an inventive (if unrecognizable) homage.

Experimedia

The first movement begins promisingly with a loooong, slow fade-in that gradually becomes a grinding, enveloping roar.  In fact, it is possibly the best part of the entire album–not because there is drop in quality afterward, but simply because it is so dense, complexly layered, and absolutely crushing.  It is impossible to determine what the original material could sounded like, as it basically sounds like a hundred string instruments slowed way down and pitch-shifted into unrecognizability.  The brilliance lies in the details though, as there are all kinds of stutters, scratches, and swells amidst the maelstrom that transform that single, massive chord into a sumptuous feast for the ears.  Ultimately, it all fades away again without evolving into anything more, but that works just fine: mesmerizing me for over ten minutes without any overt melodic or rhythmic movement at all is an impressive enough feat by itself.

The rest of the album adheres to the same template, as each piece seems like Valles froze a massive orchestra (or perhaps several) mid-note, then stretched, looped, and layered that instant into a roiling ocean of sound.  It is a pretty bizarre aesthetic, as the movements are all pretty simple and static on a large scale, but beautifully alive and insanely complicated on a smaller scale.  Equally important is the fact that this is not one of those albums where intense, focused listening is required to unearth its true beauty: Nonparallel is a massive, rumbling, and grinding steamroller of a drone album.  There are occasional moments where Damian softens to allow some shimmering, atmospheric touches, as he does in the third movement, but they are easily balanced out by crescendos that sound like an abattoir full of bandsaws or haunting swoops that sound like giant metallic birds.

The only possible downside to this album is that Valles was perhaps a bit too successful in transforming his source material, as anyone who is lured by its premise and hoping for recognizably detourned snatches of 20th century classical music will be thoroughly thwarted.  I do not fall into that category though, so I see Nonparallel as an unqualified drone masterpiece.  Damian deftly avoided all of the pitfalls that could threaten a project like this (a bloodless, academic feel; jumbled, incoherent collage; winding up with something that sounds like every other goddamn drone album; etc.) and then exceeded my expectations even more.  I have rarely heard anything drone-like that demands extreme volume like this album.  Valles did not spend those three years in vain: this is a gutsy, gritty, and bad-ass effort in all respects.

Samples:

• First Movement
• Second Movement
• Third movement

 

24 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

This year seems like a wildly and uncharacteristically prolific one for Mark Spybey and Robin Storey, as they have already released this double-album, a soundtrack, and now have yet another double-album coming out next month.  That avalanche of new material is a bit deceptive though, as these recordings are actually taken from two days of improvisations back in 2009.  The duo were certainly inspired on those particular days, but many of these pieces too easily betray their made-up-on-the-spot origin.  As a result, this massive album simultaneously recalls both the best and the worst aspects of Zoviet France's legacy.

Soleilmoon

Aside from both originating around the same time, the two halves of this album seem to have little in common.  The World Awake!, which borrows its title from a passage in Henry Miller's "With Edgar Varese in the Gobi Desert," mostly captures the duo engaging in some prime Zoviet France-style haunted, faux-tribal ambiance.  In fact, the album starts off brilliantly, as something that sounds like creepy, distressed backwards tape loops segues into inhuman howls, trance-inducing Eastern percussion, and buzzing, eerily processed wind instruments.  Unfortunately, the catch is that by the time I checked to see which song I was hearing, I was already midway through the album's third piece.  That is the curse of The World Awake!: some of Spybey and Storey's best ideas are dispensed with in a minute or two without any evolution, while less distinctive and compelling pieces are allowed to unfold for much longer than necessary (like the 15-minute dark ambient foray "The First Word").  There are certainly some great ideas here though–I just wish more of them had been allowed to expand into great songs.

For the 11 Stueck half, the core duo are joined by a handful of guest musicians.  Stylistically, these identically named pieces are all over the map: harsh, evil-sounding drone; Godspeed-esque cinematic narratives; deranged synth blow-outs; bizarre off-beat post-rock; and weird avant-garde spoken word are all represented at least once.  The sole recurring theme seems to be that they are a lot more dense and loose-sounding than anything on the first half: these pieces definitely sound like a group of musicians jamming in a room together (albeit a rather outré group, of course).  To a certain degree, 11 Stueck suffers from the same "either prematurely abandoned or not edited aggressively enough" issues of the first half, but the success rate is a bit higher and the pieces tend to have a lot more individual character.  I especially liked the sixth "Stueck," which would have fit nicely onto 2009's massive and more "rock" I Am The Source of Light, I Am Not A Mirror, but there are quite a few other striking moments to be found elsewhere.

On one hand, I am a bit baffled as to why Reformed Faction does not seem to elicit even a fraction of the reverence and enthusiasm that Zoviet France once did, as Mark and Robin frequently equal or better their previous band's offerings.  I understand that the times are different and that a lot of ZF's appeal lay in their mystery and perverse packaging, but Spybey and Storey's recent work is as unique and adventurous as ever.  On the other hand though, Reformed Faction definitely have some self-sabotaging tendencies-for example, it is very hard to find one self-contained piece on this entire album to hold up as an example of why this band matters.  As a whole, The World Awake!/11 Stueck is still a satisfyingly unsettling and hallucinatory ride that achieves something of a flow in its own weird, uneven way, but it loses a lot of its power when broken down into its individual parts.

(amusing sidenote: this album unintentionally boasts its own perverse packaging, as the Soleilmoon website now warns that the perfumed insert can cause allergic reactions.  I seem to have escaped unscathed though...for now.).

Samples:

• The Epoch and the Bachelor, Stripped
• The First Word
• Stueck (six)

 

24 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Veterans of the sprawling Chicago music scene, Zelienople have carved out a unique sound over their enviable slew of releases. The World is a House on Fire is the latest chapter in the band's story, and frames their music more succinctly than ever before. Mike Weis (percussion), Matt Christensen (vocals, guitar) and Brian Harding (bass, saxophone) managed to perfect brooding, melancholy doom pop on their last full length Give It Up, and this latest LP finds the band in a lighter mood.

The trio have utilized dream pop tropes before, but in the first bars of opener "The Southern" there is no doubt that the haunted Americana of the bands previous has been swathed in a haze of drifting synthesizer tones and echoing organ drones (played by occasional member Donn Ha). The simplistic beauty of Slowdive and early Verve is distilled to a vapour as it drifts into Christensen's characteristic vocals and Weis's soft, subtle percussion. This isn't pop music, but the skeletons of pop are just about audible, enshrined in something far more beautiful and much more delicate.

The World is a House on Fire is a blissful and utterly enveloping addition to the Zelienople canon, and while it might be more subtle than their previous records, it stays with you more than you might expect. Haunting doesn't even begin to describe it…

More information here.

24 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

The follow-up to 2008's Khora, Fragments of the Marble Plan adds an electronic carapace to Aufgehoben's cataclysmic noise-rock foundation. The prevailing sound evokes the Mego label before it added "Editions" to its name and became enamored of American guitar mavericks—back when it purveyed cyclotronic, abstract electronic music that had the centrifugal force of an irrefutable Ph.D. thesis.

Such is the overwhelming power of Aufgehoben on the British group's sixth album that even exposure to the MP3s makes one relieved to have health insurance. Music this apocalyptic has few peers, but some approximate touchstones are the most radically "out" and knotty moments of Norwegian post-jazz ensemble Supersilent, This Heat after realizing that Brise-Glace didn't pay them a penny in royalties, or Farmers Manual after extensive immersion in Mainliner's back catalog. Fragments of the Marble Plan is a terrifying force of nature, a Rube Goldberg machine run amok, the sound of civilization atomizing into controlled chaos. It's so cold, it's hellish. Although Aufgehoben feels your need for catharsis, they convince you that being ready to jump out of your skin is the new normal.

If Aufgehoben prompted clichés, one would say that they "take no prisoners" on Fragments of the Marble Plan. This music is war—with all of the fascinating horrors and grisly casualties inherent in that endeavor. Get a helmet.

More information here.

21 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Apostate started as a rough set of ideas batted back and forth digitally between Bobby Donne, Gregory Darden and Jimmy Anthony. Three sections emerged, each made up of smaller segments. The completed work is one of austere beauty undercut by overwhelming drones and sounds of undetermined origin.

The artwork and song titles give hints to the meaning behind the sound. A dark gateway with carvings from some long lost, or imaginary language is vaguely off kilter and dark.

References to religion like "Sutta" and "Muezzin" are matched by the sound of bells and a call to prayer. But then the album title itself and titles like "Betrayals" direct thoughts toward darker emotional realms.

All from a band that has practiced it's craft in obscurity, using the tools of digital soundscaping to transform and conceal. Apostate invites you to walk through that gateway to see what you can hear.

Apostate will be available from the FSS Bandcamp page on a pay-what-you-want basis.

How subtle is too subtle? Because Cristal, a trio containing Bobby Donne of post-rock legends LaBradford, is so subtle. There's samples so deep in the mix that you're never quite sure if you've heard them or not,
and when you try to listen out for them you just miss them.. an exercise in soundtracking what could be about to happen rather than what's actually happening... Climaxes are for chumps
FACT

Together since 2001, the group has refined its approach over the years, and the evidence can be clearly heard...
Fans of Deaf Center, Elegi, and Svarte Greiner clearly would do themselves a disservice in not familiarizing themselves with Cristal's work too.
Textura

Track Listing

I. 1.Without Water 2. April (reprise) 3.Sutta 4.Dormition 5. Muezzin 6. Manse, the Nighthawked
II. 1.Oscines 2.Last in the Heights 3.Dormition (reprise) 4.Bels
III. 1. Burn Witch, Ye Sin 2. Betrayals 3. April

20 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

A lot can happen in 26 years, including the return of industrial/noise pioneers Cabaret Voltaire. While now pared down to solely Richard H. Kirk, Shadow of Fear is still a very much a worthy release in the band's canon of dystopian paranoia, hearkening back to the inventiveness of Red Mecca with the rhythms of 2x45, and further improved by rich, expert production. Kirk drags all of the band's musical past into the future, encouraging the listener to dance with boundless abandon as a panacea from the "shadow of fear." The result? Kirk succeeds in injecting a new freshness into Cabaret Voltaire, sounding more energized than like-minded artists a fraction of Kirk's age.

Mute

Unlike the often lackluster vision that plagues reboots of classic bands, intrinsic energy fills Shadow of Fear, burgeoned by a year that should not have been. Armed with an arsenal of sound sampling and electronics, Kirk launches musical assaults that span state-sanctioned cruelty, iron-fisted fascist rule, white supremacy, scarcity, and industry loss. Mimicking Plasticity or International Language may have put the raison d'etre for the return of Cabaret Voltaire into question as so many have regurgitated this formula. Kirk instead emerges as a dystopian envoy from a Thatcherian era, mapping that fear onto a present that, in recent times, has felt too similar.

"Be Free" initiates that fear from the onset, disembodied sampled voices reminding the listener to be free even though "the city is falling apart," the message's urgency backed by discordant energy, harsh noise, and persistent rhythm. Rhythm is significant throughout, packing the album with dark dancefloor rippers like "Night of the Jackal," "Papa Nine Zero Delta United," "Universal Energy," and "Vasto." The album ripples with Cabaret Voltaire's most commanding declaration of movement to date, harsh aesthetics working in perfect synchrony with clangorous rhythms. "Universal Energy" is a superb example of this, an almost 11-minute belter that deserves played at top volume. This track is immediately followed by techno groover "Vasto" which masterfully interpolates the classic riff from Bronski Beat's "Smalltown Boy" with throbbing percussion.

Shadow of Fear evokes considerably more than a desire to return to the dancefloor, though there is no mistaking the mad dancing to be had. The music of Cabaret Voltaire has long moved both body and brain. Kirk remains respectful of these roots, upholding Cabaret Voltaire's core mission as a prescient musical voice, dance music masquerading in an almost oppressive intensity. Solo Kirk has successfully crafted a sound that's unmistakably Cabaret Voltaire, as opposed to a solo Kirk album, by leveraging pieces of the sounds he initially helped create. Kirk generally stuck to older synths and drum machines for the album to better sonically recreate the group's early work's dense and twitchy sounds, rather than use the modern electronics he has used for his solo and remix work. These primitive sounds are more timely than ever, a soundtrack for dancing while doomscrolling, moving while quarantined, or simply settling into the new reality with a good pair of headphones.

Sound samples available here.

 

18 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Unlike his usual penchant for releasing single, album long pieces, this two disc compilation collects nine distinct, different pieces with the only specific commonality being the year that they were recorded. For that alone it makes it a wonderful introduction to López' complex, often difficult to absorb artistry.

Alone At Last

Across the two discs, López utilizes most of his varying techniques of composition, resulting in tracks that sound significantly different from one another.Even those with a similar source can vary drastically:while "Untitled #241" and "Untitled #264" both use source material from other artists, they go in entirely different directions.The former remains rather static through its 11-minute duration, sticking mostly to a layer of clicky textures and digital skips, resulting in a sub-rhythmic collage of sound.The latter clocks in at a bit under three minutes and sounds like the infinitely drifting rattles of a metal cymbal that fell to the floor, without a sense of rhythm at all.

López' use and dissection of field recordings is also employed in a few pieces.Both "Untitled #265" and "Untitled #268" use this technique, the former using environmental sounds from Spain, the latter from southern Holland. "Untitled #265" trades in ultrasonic frequencies that build to a dramatic, droning crescendo before falling away to reveal vast sparseness and an intermittent, heavily treated thud."Untitled #268" keeps things more identifiable, with obvious animal noises and ambience with the addition of some percussive rattling later on.

"Untitled #269" uses even less processing on its field recordings, collected at various Buddhist monasteries across Myanmar.Initially it is a heavily layered collage of voices chanting and singing, creating a chillingly disorienting cacophony of unintelligible voices before peeling them apart, leaving more individual voices singing and chanting with only a smattering of reverb.Separated they seem harmless, but layered together produces a disturbing effect.

Oddly enough the pieces on disc 1 are not given the same sort of description in the liner notes as they are on disc 2. "Untitled #242" twists and folds the recordings into high pitched, shimmering affairs that are initially understated, but eventually evolve into microscopic recordings of glass shattering loudly before dropping to near silence."Untitled #246" goes in an entirely different direction, using some textural noises with less treated field recordings, clearly recognizable from the sound of flowing water and occasional environmental clatters.While the former piece was heavily digital and distorted, this one is more natural and organic.

Like his Untitled (2009) collection from last year, this is representative of López' often oblique and challenging, but ultimately rewarding catalog.The Nowhere box set is another example of this collection approach, but 10 discs is a bit daunting.The presentation, however, is a bit odd on this release.Packaged in a sumptuous, die cut and multi-folding package of geometric patterns and colors (which seems to be a label trademark), the look of the release is such a far cry from López' usual stark, sometimes completely absent artwork.The design and aesthetic is wonderful, it just seems a bit out of the norm for a usually austere artist.

samples:

• Untitled #247
• Untitled #246
• Untitled #269

 

18 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Across two side-long tracks, this "spontaneous composition" using only the Grafton Alto Saxophone, Bengt is an in-depth study of a singular instrument, as well as of the artist himself. The unique tonality of the instrument, and Gustafsson’s unique approach to playing it makes for a fitting tribute to Bengt Nordström, who whom this work is dedicated.

Utech

Nordström is the father of the Swedish jazz scene, being one of the earliest practitioners in the country, as well as having produced Albert Ayler’s first album, Something Different, in 1963.Gustafsson was heavily influenced by his unique improvisational style, and though his own playing and work is different, here he adopts the style and sound of his friend and collaborator in a fitting tribute.

The A-side of the vinyl sticks to lightly played, higher register notes at first, quiet and carefully controlled.The erratic notes become just as important as the spaces between them, sometimes silent, sometimes the mechanical clattering of keys.The short, bleating, clipped notes become louder and louder, occasionally drifting into recognizable free jazz territory, but staying even more disjointed.By the end, the sound shifts into extremely short notes that sound more like percussion than tone, and by the end just the subtle breathing of Gustafsson.

On the flip, the percussive, rattling noises from sax notes appear again, more restrained but no less effective.The first four or so minutes of the track sound nothing at all like a woodwind instrument, more about breathing and mouth sounds.When the more traditional sound of the instrument comes in, they’re almost delicate, pretty outstretched notes, compared to the tightly clipped and scattershot ones from before.By the half-way mark it goes all out into dissonant skronk, sounding like the instrument shrieking in pain, but closes on the most quietest of notes possible.

The thought of a 40 minute album of just saxophone improvisations was a bit intimidating to me at first, because I was simply unsure how it would hold my interest, but Gustafsson’s unique playing and approach to the instrument gave it a depth and complexity that made all the difference.Even if he was intentionally channeling Nordström, he still put his own unique stamp on it.Plus, I have to appreciate the label going above and beyond the traditional download-code digital option and instead including the album on CD as well as pristine white vinyl.

samples:

• Bengt 1
• Bengt 2 (Excerpt 1)
• Bengt 2 (Excerpt 2)

 

17 June 2012

Administrator

Albums and Singles

I am sure that working under the shadow of a massively influential father (Graham, in this case) is not an enviable position, but Klara's brief and enticing debut is unusual and eerie enough to avoid any annoying comparisons or unmet expectations.  Culled from field recordings made in Europe, Russia, and Turkey, Lewis' pieces sculpt a host of unmusical sounds into spectral and unsettling minimalist dance music that is deliciously alienating and undanceable.

Self-Released

Amusingly, "sound collages made from exotic travels" might be my single least favorite micro-genre amidst the cassette and CDR underground, as they are often pretty inept and also make me angry that other people have more interesting lives than me.  Consequently, Lewis' success and ingenuity with similar material is both refreshing and unexpected.  Of course, these are not collages so much as a forlorn 10-minute long musique concrète dance party and even within that very bizarre aesthetic realm, Klara is anything but straightforward.  For example, while she manages to create an infectiously scratchy rhythm in "c a t t," it is an ephemeral one and periodically gets displaced by ghostly swells and echoey clangs.  Also, a tea kettle makes a prominent appearance, adding a pleasant dash of absurdity to Lewis' haunted and hollow pulsings.

Klara only allows conventional musicality to infiltrate her work on the closing piece, "49th hour," which incorporates an undead-sounding Russian opera singer and something resembling a simple bass line near the end.  It fits seamlessly though, probably making it the EP's most accessible "song" without sacrificing any of the darkness and dislocation of the previous pieces.  Obviously, music this unapologetically bleak and fragmented is not for everybody, but it is complex, unpredictable, and uncompromising enough to be quite striking to jaded ears like mine.  In a distant way, in fact, this EP shares quite a bit of common ground with bleaker UK dance luminaries like Raime and Demdike Stare, but takes things to a much more abstract and difficult extreme.  That said, it seems like Klara will have her work cut out for her if she ever attempts to sustain such a pure anti-music aesthetic for longer than ten minutes.  For now, however, this is a very promising and distinctive debut.

Samples:

• c a t t
• Muezzin
• 49th hour