Plenty of new music to be had this week from Laetitia Sadier and Storefront Church, Six Organs of Admittance, Able Noise, Yui Onodera, SML, Clinic Stars, Austyn Wohlers, Build Buildings, Zelienople, and Lea Thomas, plus some older tunes by Farah, Guy Blakeslee, Jessica Bailiff, and Richard H. Kirk.
Lake in Girdwood, Alaska by Johnny.
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Prurient has taken a backseat in the past few years in favor of Dom Fernow's more recent high profile projects. The last major Prurient releases too were somewhat baffling: the EBM noise of Bermuda Drain and minimalist techno of Through the Window screamed out as an identity crisis compared to the harsh historical releases. This 7" is a tentative step back into the world of more abrasive, but is not quite the Prurient of the early days.
There is nary a kick drum or synth bell to be heard on these two songs, but they do retain that digital clarity of those recent works, and sits in nicely with his half of the JK Flesh collaboration from last year."Doors Closed in Secrecy" is the harshest of the pair, although does not seem that way at first.What sounds like a programmed bass synth sequence is perhaps the most musical element here, with shrill electronics bathed in reverb and indecipherable bits of voice popping in and out.
For the most part, all of the pieces of early Prurient are here, but cleaner and executed with more restraint.Later on, noise shrouded rhythmic patterns appear, and the feedback becomes aggressive enough to dissolve everything into a wall of noise that is not as far removed from his old work as I had expected.
"Washed Against The Rocks" is more ambient in comparison, initially hinging upon a simple repetitive synth pattern that could have been lifted from a Vatican Shadow song.Noise lurks beneath, occasionally flaring up in the form of distorted blasts or clattering rhythmic textures but not to the extent as on the other side.Overall it calls to mind the softer, more structured material from Pleasure Ground.
Given that Vatican Shadow and Christian Cosmos have become Fernow's projects of choice, I have wondered what the future of Prurient would be, because it seems like such a regression to just go back to his Macronympha worshipping ways.Washed Against the Rocks seems like the best direction to continue in, retaining the aggression and chaos of noise but with a more orderly and song oriented touch.
When I learned of this album, it seemed like a dream come true, as I love both Nina Simone and past Xiu Xiu covers (especially "Ceremony").  Consequently, it seemed like an entire album of Jamie Stewart interpreting Nina's songs could be amazing...if I did not think too much about it.  As it turns out, it is not amazing.  It is an interesting experiment with occasionally impressive results though: Nina sounds like Jamie Stewart making an art-damaged, wildly melodramatic cabaret album with some free-jazz elements thrown in.  That is not necessarily a bad thing, but it does not bear much resemblance to either Nina Simone or classic Xiu Xiu.
While it has been several years since I have considered myself a serious Xiu Xiu fan, a project like this highlights what made me one in the first place: Jamie Stewart has always been an unpredictable and gutsy artist with great taste in influences.  Unfortunately, tackling a full album of Nina Simone songs is a fundamentally doomed endeavor, particularly when married with Stewart's current aesthetic vision.  For one, Simone's songs were great largely because she was the one singing them–not many other singers can approach her sexiness, soulfulness, intensity, or style.  The "intensity" part is not a problem for Jamie, obviously, but his hushed, quavering voice turns Nina's songs into something somewhat grotesque and Lynchian.  Equally importantly, Xiu Xiu's best work was spectacular because Stewart combined great hooks with unconventional twists and a constant sense that things were on the verge of barreling completely out of control.  On Nina, he seems intent on burying the hooks and melodies and compensating by making the surrounding music just sound a little "wrong" or "off."
Still another hurdle is that Nina is essentially a showcase for Jamie Stewart's trembling, anguished vocals and I always liked Xiu Xiuin spite of his singing rather than because of it.  While Jamie surrounded himself with an eclectic and game batch of collaborators for this project (most notably guitarist Mary Halvorson), most of these songs are very much in the "torch song" vein, so the accompaniment is generally very minimal and jazzy.  Which is a shame, because Stewart's ensemble kicks up quite a wonderful cacophony when they finally get a chance on "You'd Be So Nice" (the album's "single").  For most of the other songs, Stewart tends to be accompanied by little more than languid saxophone and some strummed jazz chords.  There are some occasional bits of guitar or sax dissonance, which are nice, but otherwise the bulk of Nina could be considered surprisingly straightforward were it not for Stewart's quivering, on-the-verge-of-a-nervous-breakdown vocals.
One final problem that I have is that most of Nina's songs were not written by Nina Simone: they were merely popularized by her.  Consequently, Stewart is basically doing radical re-interpretations of Nina's own wildly different interpretations of songs by Cole Porter, Kurt Weill, Billie Holiday, Peggy Lee, and others.  That situation is perversely exacerbated by the two Simone originals that Stewart did choose to cover: "Four Women" and "Flo Me La," as both are bizarre, highly questionably forays into cultural appropropriation.  "Flo Me La," for example, is based upon a traditional African warrior marching chant.  "Four Women," on the other hand, features Stewart singing lines such as "my skin is black" and "whose little girl am I?," which I found quite cringe-worthy coming from a white male.  Fortunately, Stewart did have the tact to avoid the line "my parents were slaves" and the clattering, lurching free-jazz accompaniment is one of the album's best moments.
All of that adds up to quite a flawed, perplexing album, but not one that I would consider a complete failure by any means.  After all, "You'd Be So Nice" is spectacular.  A whole album of this stuff is definitely numbing though.  While I have seen Nina pilloried as one of the worst albums of the year elsewhere, I found it to be just an exasperating, overlong execution of a potentially great idea (and I would much rather see Jamie gamble and fall flat than re-tread familiar territory).  If Steward had chosen some more fun songs ("Do I Move You?," for example), thought up some livelier and more adventurous arrangements, and stripped away all the more middling material, this could have been a stellar EP.  In its current state, Nina kind of resembles the work of a bumbling alchemist who transmutes gold into copper: it's definitely an interesting feat and the end result still has value, but it probably would have been better if he had just left the material alone instead.
Following the recent lavish 7.10.12 box, the enigmatic :zoviet*france: have complied another release, albeit in a more conventional package, that continues the style of that set. Lush synthesizers, infrequent and erratic rhythms, and mysterious ambiences that shift from the delicate to the demonic make for another brilliant work in their long career.
This material is part of a score for the dance production Designer Body, in which seven dancers slowly remove their costumes as they stand on rotating platforms.This slow deconstruction from the most unnatural and decorated costuming to literal nudity is reflected in the music here, with the pieces building up and coming apart, all presented in a rotating and circular structure.
Also shifting quite a bit is the mood and atmosphere throughout, from terror to beauty.The massive subterranean rumble of "Moss Balls on Moss" has the band building to a frightening overdriven roar as robotic sounds and noisy loops darken the mood even more.The other extreme is "Amber Rose Hand," which features a similar bass drone, but melodic keyboard passages and what resembles a melody from an ancient music box ending on a placid, beautiful coda.
This parity continues throughout, and often defies first impressions from the instrumentation.For example, the brooding harpsichord sound that appears in "Green Air" would at first seem to lead to something much darker, but with the fragmented reversed bell tones and overall lighter sound, it makes for a rather sunny composition.Such levity is not apparent in "Sweeping Arbor Low," which instead has static laden layers of electronics and swelling bass, which is comparatively amusical.
Other pieces are not as polarized but instead transition between moods and atmospheres, akin to the performance they were composed for.The beginning parts of "Flam," with skittering synth patterns and deep bass mixed with sputtering bits of music are not too far removed from late 1990s minimal techno.However, the song builds and changes via processed and mangled sounds to become a mutated acoustic strings composition at the end.
The Tables Are Turning is one of those uncommon albums that wildly diverge in sound and mood from song to song, and sometimes within a single piece, yet still comes together as a consistent whole.Electronics that are comforting and then menacing; gentle chiming tones that become shrill and sharp as a scalpel, and always sounding like a perfect pairing.Even this far into their career, :zoviet*france: continues to be untouchable and unclassifiable in a field mired with poor knock-offs and weak pretenders.
Artist: Coil / Nine Inch Nails Title: Recoiled Catalogue No: CSR193CD / Barcode: 5060174956799 Catalogue No: CSR193LP / Barcode: 5060174956805 Format: CD in digipak / Ltd LP on coloured vinyl Genre:Industrial / Experimental Shipping: 23rd January
“Recoiled” is a rambunctious alchemy, of magikal Coil sensibilities and hi-tech home circa 90’s mixing technique, all fused in the cave-like early studios of Danny Hyde / Peter Christopherson. These were the unrestrained PRE- BIG studio- mix downs, of four songs which long time Coil admirer / collaborator Trent Reznor requested Coil to remix. Reznor sent over the original multi-tracks and DATs to Hyde / Christopherson, who independently mixed versions and then met to synch both creations, molding them into these master versions. ”Recoiled” includes a fuller, more opulent version of the track ‘Closer’, which eventually made it onto the opening credits to the movie “SE7EN“. These 5 lengthy compositions are pre-Ableton / laptop generation type priest song creations, with the use of baby alarms and numerous wires to create bespoke effects. These legendary tracks were always rumoured to exist and, only the due diligence of a dedicated NIN forum who hunted them down, are released/unleashed for your listening pleasure. 4 of the tracks were released on the download-only “Uncoiled”. A bonus, previously unheard track from the same sessions closes the album. Jhonn Balance is also manifest on this gilded constellation. Beautifully remastered for CD / vinyl. CD in digipak.
Artist: Psychic TV Title: Live At Thee Marquee Catalogue No: CSR189CD Barcode: 5060174956768 Format: CD in jewelcase Genre:Industrial / Esoteric Shipping: Now
PSYCHIC TV’s complete, unheard show, recorded at the prestigious Marquee Club, London, 20th May 1986. For this event Psychic TV were: Genesis P-Orridge, Alex Fergusson, Mouse, Matthew Best. Ltd x 1000 copies, featuring an 8-page booklet of unseen photos.
Tracks: 1. Intro / 2. Ov Power / 3. She Touched Me / 4. Just Like Arcadia / 5. Supermale / 6. I Like You / 7. Riot In Thee Eye / 8. Interstellar Overdrive / 9. Unclean / 10. Godstar / 11. We Kiss / 12. Roman P. / 13. IT
Artist: Psychic TV Title: Thee Fabulous Feast Ov Flowering Light Catalogue No: CSR188CD Barcode: 5060174956751 Format: CD in jewelcase Genre:Industrial / Esoteric Shipping: Now
PSYCHIC TV in a unique line-up – a unique show, recorded 19th May 1985 at Hammersmith Palais, London. For this event Psychic TV were: Genesis P-Orridge, Alex Fergusson, Max Prior, Mouse, Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson, Dave Ball (Soft Cell), Rose McDowall (Strawberry Switchblade, Sorrow, Coil, Current 93). This is a completely unheard show, with unseen photos! Ltd x 1000 copies.
Tracks: 1. Intro, 2. I Like You, 3. Just Like Arcadia, 4. Godstar, 5. Roman P., 6. Unclean, 7. Baby's Gone Away, 8. Southern Comfort, 9. We Kiss, 10. Thee Starlit Mire, 11. Ov Power.
PSYCHIC TV, 5th November 1984, Manchester. This was PSYCHIC TV’s first show at NEW ORDER / FACTORY’s legendary HACIENDA club! For this event Psychic TV were: Genesis P-Orridge, John Gosling (Zos Kia, Coil), Paul Reeson, and Alex Fergusson. This is the complete show with unseen photos! Ltd x 1000 copies.
Tracks: 1. Intro / 2. Enochian Calls / 3. I Like You / 4. Unclean Monks / 5. Unclean / 6. Roman P. / 7. Southern Comfort / 8. Godstar / 9. Thee Starlit Mire / 10. Thee Shining
Artist: Tunnels Of Ah Title: Lost Corridors Catalogue No: CSR184CD Barcode: 5060174955433 Format: CD in jewelcase Genre:Industrial / Esoteric Shipping: Now
Tunnels Of Ah is the new project of former Head of David vocalist Stephen Ah Burroughs. “Lost Corridors” is the first Tunnels Of Ah release and features Burroughs’ “industrial esoterica”, evoking the spirit of the pioneering underground experimental scene in the new dark age. This is psychick war.
A mandatory release for those who worship at the altars of Coil, Psychic TV, Arktau Eos, Z’EV…
Tracks: 1. From A Cracked Hive (Black Insect Laughter) / 2. The Nightjar Sang A Kalpa Blaze / 3. A Net Of Woven Starlight 4. Nightfall At The Mount Of Husks / 5. Harvest Flame The Christ Force / 6. Shattering The Black Crone / 7. Crush The Heads Of Scorpions
Artist: Z'EV Title: A Handful Of Elements Catalogue No: CSR182CD Barcode: 5060174955457 Format: CD in jewelcase Genre:Industrial / Ritual / Ambient Shipping: Now
With “A Handful Of Elements” Z’EV returns to the “dense, carefully laid and deep drone works” [adnoiseam.net] of “Sum Things” (CSR101CD). However, for this release he has drawn deep from his 40 year old sonic archive (from live performances both instrumental and vocal to a range of soundscapes from around the world), producing soundtracks to accompany you to the other side of ambient, through the door between your eyes.
Tracks:1. Terra / 2. Aqua / 3. Aer / 4. Ignis / 5. Spiritus
Ben Chatwin is not one to shy away from ambitious concepts, having previously devoted albums to both the subconscious and the creation of the world.  Now, in collaboration with Fluid Radio's Dan Crossley, he tackles the more intimate subject of their shared alienation and misery in London.  Curiously, however, the music and packaging of Eaten Alive are much more elaborate than anything Chatwin has ever done before.  I had some difficulty reconciling myself with that, as something is definitely lost in Chatwin's transition from experimental guitarist to full-blown composer/urban historian/multimedia artist, but he certainly made a valiant and impassioned effort to do something truly unique and special this time around.
Chatwin's music has always tended towards the cinematic, addressing compelling themes evocatively and with a thoughtful narrative and dynamic arc.  Eaten Alive certainly continues that tradition, but does so in a different way, resembling a soundtrack to a non-existent film rather a complete, fully-formed world of its own.  In a way, however, "the non-existent film" that Ben is soundtracking is actually the very real life of Crossley–specifically Dan's tales of addiction, crime, and homelessness in '80s London.  Crossley's contribution extended beyond just providing inspiration though, as the now sold-out limited edition further (and more concretely) illuminates his past with a booklet of his haunting, grainy photography from the period.  As a complete piece of art, that edition succeeds beautifully in many ways, but that success becomes quite a bit blurrier when the music is decontextualized and presented alone.
Another problem is that while Chatwin had no trouble brilliantly tackling the more abstract ideas of subconsciousness and dreaming with 2011's Descent into Delta, the seemingly more modest and tangible challenge of evoking a period from someone's life is one that does not suit his aesthetic nearly as well.  For an album that openly sets out to reflect the worst of human nature, Eaten Alive often feels like a very polished, muted, detached, and monochromatically melancholy affair.  Occasionally, Ben hits upon something inspired and apropos, like the roiling, buzzing, and snarling intro to "Little Pieces of Discarded Life," which sounds wonderfully like a broken televison in a ruined flat reluctantly coming into focus.  Many other times, however, Chatwin's music sounds positively baroque (such as in the crescendo of "The Secrets of the Sky").  There is nothing objectively wrong with that (it sounds like Talvihorros collaborating with John Carpenter on the credit music for a zombie film), but it feels like a bizarre choice given Eaten Alive's aim (but totally appropriate for its title, obviously).
Yet another problem is probably me and my preconceived idea of what I want a new Talvihorros album to sound like, as there are objectively a lot of very cool passages strewn thorough these 8 pieces, such as the heavy, buzzing outro of "Becoming Mechanical."  Also, there are a number of strong melodies and the whole thing forms a meticulously executed and coherent arc.  If I could just experience this album in a completely different context and forget that it was a Talvihorros album, I could probably enjoy it a lot more than I do, but I cannot.  I desperately want this album to be intimate and occasionally raw and violent (like life), but the complexly layered arrangments, deliberate pace, and homogenizing synth parts make me feel like I am listening to Mogwai covering a classic In The Nursery album or something.  I would have no (serious) problem with such a union occurring, but hearing Chatwin sound like that makes me wince a little.
Of course, all of my griping is rooted in the fact that I historically love Talvihorros, which has the unfortunate effect of saddling me with all kinds of critical baggage and expectation.  While I definitely prefer Ben's last two releases to this one, I am (grumblingly) still quite pleased that Eaten Alive exists: Chatwin and Crossley certainly cannot be faulted for lack of vision or effort and they break some interesting new ground in the realm of...what?  Experimental documentary (so experimental that there is not even a film)?  Abstract sonic biography?  I have no idea.  In any case, this was an excellent idea for a project that probably thoroughly delighted the 200 people who got the complete experience.  As pure music alone, it does not necessarily work for me, but I hope Ben is not dissuaded from taking similarly bold chances in the future.
Robert Millis is not exactly a household name, but anyone with a healthy curiosity for the musical fringes has probably unknowingly encountered at least one thing that he has been involved in over his lengthy career.  Recently, he has been most prolific as a filmmaker for Sublime Frequencies, but he has also curated or worked on some of the most interesting compilations to emerge over the last several years (Dust-to Digital's Victrola Favorites, for example).  He is also one of the founding members of Climax Golden Twins as well as an occasional solo artist, as he is here.  Appropriately, Relief seamlessly blends together many of Millis' esoteric pursuits, but it does so in a more understated, raga-drone way than I expected.
Curiously, this album is described by the label as "more Nurse With Wound than The Caretaker," invoking two artists that have little overt resemblance to what it is that Millis does.  There are certainly fleeting elements of both (brief snatches of surrealist whimsy and brooding orchestral passages, respectively), but Relief does not particularly warrant comparisons to any auteurs, resembling a fairly straightforward drone album assembled from very unstraightforward materials.  It is certainly a very good drone album, but its distinctive traits are generally quite subtle, abstract, or ephemeral in nature.
The most uniquely Millis-ian touch to be found is that many of the droning, repeating motifs sound like they could be blurred, stretched, and pitch-shifted samples from some long-lost Molam or Luk Thung obscurities or one of Robert's recently anthologized 78s from Korea or Burma.  Almost all of these five pieces betray those origins or inspirations in one way or another, but they all offer their own twists to the formula as well.  The most successful of the lot is probably the opening "Secret Sentence," which buffers its hazy burbling loop with a kitschy old dialogue snippet and an unexpected plunge into dark orchestral tumult.  The closing title piece is similarly successful, yet radically different in structure, spending most of its 16 minutes engaging in gently quavering, one-chord drone before slowly giving way to what sounds like an especially insistent dripping.
The other aspect to Relief that stands-out is a particularly weird, muted strain of unpredictability.  The aforementioned "Relief," for example, continues beyond its logical conclusion point into a throbbing, hallucinatory coda mingled with pastoral piano noodling.  Also, the aberrant "Second Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction" is wrong-footing in almost every respect, sounding like snatches of a classical album being heard through some kind of disquieting and dissonant supernatural fog before being violently interrupted by vinyl crackle and returning as a new piece.  The overall feeling is like having a nightmare about an indecisive ghost who cannot make it through an entire song without restlessly flipping the record.  Which, of course, is fairly novel and enjoyable (for me, anyway).
Ultimately, Relief feels like a somewhat slight album, but endearingly and willfully so.  Part of me definitely wishes Millis had not devoted so much of its running time to simple droning loops and repetition (and amateurish one-finger piano interludes), yet Millis' patience, confidence, and odd sensibility give the album a woozy, sublime, and unhurried charm.  In that deeper and somewhat nebulous sense, this effort is actually quite unique: Millis is the rare artist who egolessly lets sounds flow (rather than conspicuously exerting his will) and hints at depth and exoticism (rather than making things explicit).  While Relief sounds contemporary, it feels like it comes from a very different aesthetic place than the here and now.  Which, I suppose, makes it something of a minor triumph.