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.
Get involved: subscribe, review, rate, share with your friends, send images!
The inevitable fallibility of magnetic media can, while being frustrating as all hell to an artist, provide the impetus for an even better creation. Oxide represents such a creative disaster: old cassettes and reels of tape had been accidentally subjected to moisture damage. Instead of tossing them, Scott Konzelmann strung them up and pulled what he could off of the decaying tape and built this new work out of the remnants in his first full length release in quite awhile.
The structure of the single 49 minute track alone is a metaphor for the fickle nature of magnetic tape: it has a very cut & paste quality, but without the per-sample perfection of digital audio editing tools. Instead, it feels raw and unpolished, like art based on rotting audiotape should. The rough structure is only amplified by the actual sounds that lie within it. Sonically it is a rather noisy work, sounds resembling machinery rattles, amplified sandpaper, abrasive textures, etc.
It is jarring at times, listening to what may simply be amplified and processed tape hiss requires careful attention to hear subtleties before the listener is slapped in the face by a raw blast of pure audio sludge. From the sound of things, it doesn't sound like a great deal of processing was used to the original raw material, since it sill retains such an unaffected, analog quality. The original sounds were based around Konzelmann’s traditional approach to music: utilizing various junkyard sonic installations to create a veritable Sanford and Son noise orchestra. However, the decay of tape makes this less relevant but doesn't hamper the artistic quality of the work.
The actual sound of decay that is presented here is by far its strongest asset: the listener can practically hear the creases in the tape, pieces of magnetic oxide that may have flaked off due to environmental damage, mold blocking the tape heads, etc. Often, the minimal nature of the damage is fascinating: the sub-bass hum and crackle at around the 17 minute mark are among the most compelling audio textures I've heard in material like this. The parts that are more dissonant rank up there with the best of the analog noise kings, before folks like Merzbow traded in their junk gear for Powerbooks.
The overarching analog sound of this work is what makes it stand on its own amongst its peers. No matter how complex one can make a Max/MSP patch, or how many modules one can load into Reaktor, getting textures and sounds like are found here simply isn't the same. Perhaps the most adept artists could model sounds like this, but I'm skeptical that it would retain the same warmth and fascinating microcosmic worlds that are here. An abstract, occasionally violent, but undeniably amazing collection of accidental textures and sounds.
Believe it or not, the title only gives a taste of the irony put to tape here. Over the course of 19 songs, Lazy Magnet rummages though almost every form of popular music, sometimes covering several genres in space of a few seconds. Band leader Jeremy Harris and company have the musical chops to pull off such a scatterbrained project, but the silly lyrics and non-stop pastiche get to be wearing.
Straight comparisons are usually a cop out, but I couldn't listen to Is Music Even Good? without thinking of Ween. Like Dean and Gene, Harris uses disparate genres as vehicle for goofing off rather than letting the music set its own agenda, but thankfully he has his own brand of humor. Lazy Magnet trades Ween's frat boy fixation on sex, drugs and scat for a focus on pure lyrical nerddom. "Masters of Science Fiction" is a Roger Miller style country ballad that is spilt between twangy acoustic strumming and piercing mic feedback. "Look into the Eyes of the Your Lord and Say No" is a bouncy new-wave jam, but the lyrics are pure Neal Pert style sword and sorcery affirmations.
Levity is a tricky thing in music. While Is Music Even Good? never degenerates into outright parody, I kept wishing Harris would focus his talent. The album is at its best when he stops using his songs as musical punch lines. "Your Hidden Adversary is Rising pt3 A Flower Fighting a Dragon" is a Tangerine Dream style kosmische synth workout that slowly decays into roaring noise. Lacking goofy lyrics, the song has its own context outside the usual Mountain Dew and Nintendo imagery. It is a dork-out without the sardonic wink.
All this scolding about getting serious is probably for naught, though. Harris has been making music for over a decade, enough time to know exactly what he is doing. The arrangements and musicianship on this album are amazing, and the audio quality is great for a home recording. He is making music on his own terms and obviously enjoying himself. That said, if Lazy Magnet tried for something a little more serious than a round of Donkey Kong, they could make some mind blowing music.
Body and voice, the two oldest iinstruments known to humankind, are the only ones featured on this album. The group, which is all female by the way, uses rhythmic call and response chants to give archaic stylings to contemporary performance art. The concept in of itself is great, but the Boys' rejection of songwriting makes for a repetitious listening.
Having never been to any of their "legendary" live shows, I decided to look up photos and video to give me an idea of what the group was all about. From what's available on the internet, it seems like watching them in person would be a ball. Their act incorporates dance, costumes, set design, and audience interaction. Far more interesting than watching some dude peer into his laptop for a half hour, I'm sure. Unfortunately, none of this excitement transfers over to Sacred Vacation.
For an a capella album, this one has little in the way of actual words to wrap your head around. Each song is constructed around a repeated chant, which is often just moaning, grunting or cooing. Clapping and stomping sits in for percussion. Occasionally, the women will harmonize or shout out lines like "You are my sweet potato!" or "You gotta boyfriend, you gotta husband!", but even those pieces seem thinly arranged. The group claims everything from diva-dom to Baltimore doo-wop as inspiration, but they ignore the strong lyrical tradition in those genres. Far from limiting the group, I think focusing on songwriting and oratory would open them up to new themes and influences. Only so much can be expressed by babbling.
I don't want come down too hard on the Lexie Mountain Boys. Their theatre and vocals approach to music-making could offer a good antidote to the dude-centric, technology obsessed status quo in experimental music, at least in principle. But to live up their promise, they'll have to release a CD that can stand by itself outside of a live context. They easiest way I can think of is for them to actually sing about something. As beautiful as the unadorned human voice is, the appeal is lost if it says nothing.
Believe it or not, the title only gives you a taste of the irony put to tape here.Over the course of 19 songs, Lazy Magnet rummages though almost every form of popular music, sometimes covering several genres in space of a few seconds. Band leader Jeremy Harris and company have the musical chops to pull off such a scatterbrained project, but the silly lyrics and non-stop pastiche get to be wearing.
Wrnlrd Oneiromantical War FSS001 180 gram Ltd. Ed. LP / MP3 album UPC: 890436001517 Release Date: May 27, 2008
It is an honor to inaugurate the FSS label with the sixth album by the supremely cryptic, singular black metal entity Wrnlrd. Beginning with the self-released Mask of Hate under its Order of the Cloven Eye banner in 2005, Wrnlrd has bent black metal to its will. Working with guitar, bass, fiddle, banjo, synths and samples; Wrnlrd throws metal, industrial, noise, dark ambient and folk musics into a blackened and bubbling cauldron. A potent stew indeed. Wrnlrd records spontaneous, wordless vocalizations and details the lyrics later, improvises massed guitar tones, buries samples deep into the mix and brings the disruptive and unpredictable elements of improvisation and chance into recording. Wrnlrd albums have referenced the science fiction novels of Cordwainer Smith, surrealism, automatic writing and the arcana of Washington DC. Oneiromantical War is a trudge through tangled thickets of sound. The album was mastered by Bob Weston and will be available in a limited edition of 500 LPs on 180 gram vinyl with a gatefold sleeve. Wrnlrd can be pronounced any way you like. I prefer “wern-lerd”. Oneiromancy is a system of dream interpretation that uses dreams to predict the future.
Discography Mask of Hate CD [Order of the Cloven Eye] 2005 Mdlthr CD [Order of the Cloven Eye] 200600 In From the Night Herd CD [Order of the Cloven Eye] 2007 Cperadt CD [Small Sacrifice] 2007 Pentagon CD [Order of the Cloven Eye] 2008 “Oneiromatical War” on Varous Artists Drone Season III CD [Brise-Cul] 2007 Wrnlrd-Bauer Avulsion 3 inch CDR [Brise-Cul] 2007
..this project is truly reaching the point where its material is more aligned with black metal through texture and atmosphere than anything else …aside from the instances of raw, straightforward speeds, you'll be hard pressed to pick out many riffs or influences at work within this album that could be classified as based around the traditional roots or riffing styles of the genre, and that's a great characteristic to achieve, really. Curious work, indeed. Blodarstid April 9, 2007 Wrnlrd has managed to create a claustrophobic and all-consuming album the likes of which will be hard to better… Dave Wait Vampire Magazine June 23, 2007
Its production is absolutely filthy, but in a good way, retaining low end even while its midrange sprouts hairy palms.... But the album is enjoyable not in spite of, but because of its dirt. Cosmo Lee Invisible Oranges August 28, 2007
The sound is so thick and gnarled, the riffs so distorted they seem to exist in a churning sonic morass, the guitars and vocals constantly on the verge of crumbling to pieces, the sound so blown out, the drums are barely audible…but that drumless feel only adds to the organic sound … this epic heaving cloud of black swirling sonic mayhem, slowly and systematically engulfing everything in its path. …it's all about the gorgeous wall of sound this guy can produce, managing to sound utterly frosty and grim, but also epic and majestic, woozy, drone-y, druggy and utterly and terrifyingly black. Aquarius Records Feb. 22, 2008
Wire is proud to announce that it has completed work on its 11th studio album, continuing the momentum that began with the band's 2006 reactivation and Read & Burn 03. Dubbed 'Object 47' - 47 representing its position as the 47th release in the Wire discography - the album finds Wire utilising the core writing partnership responsible for Pink Flag, Colin Newman and Graham Lewis. The latest release is described by the band as having "tunes with zoom", and this is best illustrated by the melodic and textural development already suggested by elements of last year's Read & Burn 03.
The full track-listing for the album is: One Of Us; Circumspect; Mekon Headman; Perspex Icon; Four Long Years; Hard Currency; Patient Flees; Are You Ready?; All Fours.
Object 47 will be on sale later this year, direct from PostEverything and via record stores worldwide. A final release date will be announced shortly, and so sign up to the mailing list to be the first to find out when the album will surface.
Released the same year as Nature Unveiled, Current 93's second full-length record is more uneven than its predecessor and less coherent. Time has been kind to Current 93's debut, but Dogs Blood Rising feels a little like Tibet's leftover thoughts and ideas forced onto record. It nonetheless boasts of several outstanding moments and marks Tibet's first obvious movement away from the trappings of the so-called industrial culture.
Everything Nature Unveiled expressed with brevity and eloquence is unnecessarily confused and extended on Dogs Blood Rising. All the familiar symbols and references to Christianity, Satan, redemption, fear, human impotency, apocalyptic trauma, and positive biblical fables are present, but without the strength of a unifying esthetic. "Christus Christus (The Shells Have Cracked)" begins well enough with looped chants, abstract and breathy tones, and a sense of direction. It is an invocation of Christianity's dark side, a dimension characterized by death, burning, God's terrifying judgment (who will be saved?), and humanity's capacity for evil. "Falling Back in Fields of Rape" continues that promise of a new direction by solidifying it with a distinct meter, evenly recurring and reversed percussion loops, and a seductive chant deep in the background. Nature Unveiled was not without its structure, but at the beginning Dogs Blood Rising seems more thoughtful and coherent by virtue of its more conventional form.
Steven Ignorant's opening lines a few minutes into the song arrive unexpectedly, breaking the song's established vocabulary, and with his words Stapleton simultaneously increases the audio frenzy. The sequence of audio events presented in a short time is impressive. A metallic and vertiginous crash realizes the act of falling suggested in the song's title, then there is a moment of near silence before the now familiar words "In a foreign town / In a foreign land" are delivered. Ignorant's tone is initially narrative-like and it maintains the structure suggested by the song's opening moments. However, his delivery is quickly made ferocious, his voice reaches a feverish pitch, and in no time at all the music becomes equally crazed. The song is then transformed and a child's voice becomes the focal point, and then again another change occurs as a deranged and slightly forced growl makes its way into the mix, and then yet another change. This time a woman recites various cruelties to which humans are subjected while an organ slowly drones away beneath her voice. Over and over again the song mutates without warning, almost as though it were punishing the listener for expecting any kind of order. An unnecessary drum machine briefly makes an appearance before Tibet's dry and unnerving voice enters the fray, calling to mind his performance on I Have a Special Plan for this World. Unfortunately the song attacks the listener almost too literally, inspiring frustration more than fright, sympathy, remorse, or any other emotion. What could've been a new direction for Tibet and Stapleton instead devolves into a less powerful version of everything presented on Nature Unveiled.
Neither "From Broken Cross, Locusts" nor "Raio No Terrasu (Jesus Wept)" improves the album much. The former is a consistent song in both tone and structure, but it quickly becomes dull. For much of the song Tibet simply repeats "Antichrist" over and over again; his voice is amplified, distorted, and extended in various ways with little more than a martial and repetitive drum-beat to accompany him. The latter is, for some reason or another, dedicated to Japanese author, playwright, poet, philosopher, essayist, nationalist, and imperialist Yukio Mishima. Perhaps Mishima's literary and personal emphasis on the body inspired Tibet, but making any definite connection between him and the album is nearly impossible and suggests that Tibet was, at the time, juggling too many influences to make anything definite and powerful of them. Most interesting is the concluding piece, "St. Peter's Keys All Bloody." In a conversational tone Tibet greets darkness by way of Simon and Garfunkel's "The Sounds of Silence." It's an especially interesting musical reference considering the song's generally accepted message, which touches on the absence of love in public life and lack of communication between individuals, public or private. In any case, the song also signifies Tibet's interest in more structured music, especially folk music. As the lyrics to "Scarborough Fair" while away beneath Tibet's scathing delivery I'm reminded of Tibet's synthetic sensibilities on Nature Unveiled. It's clear to me now that while Tibet worked initially within an industrial (or at least experimental) mode, he was from the start trying to break away from it. Simon and Garfunkel were almost the complete antithesis of what was happening in London's more underground venues in 1984, yet their influence appears on this record.
Also included in the first 1,000 copies of this reissue is a complete album remix by Andrew Liles titled Dogs Blood Ascending. It is in every way an improvement upon the original. The sudden and unappealing shifts of "Falling Back in Fields of Rape" are transformed into a unified and explosive expression of anger at the loss of innocence. The song, in its remixed form, begins with the child-like voices that populated the middle portion of the original and then proceeds to Ignorant's spite-filled diatribe. It's as though, by a simple rearrangement and some improved atmospherics, the entire album is given a perspective and force that it originally didn't have. War is clearly declared on the evils of the world, the pounding of drums that were previously wimpy synthetic thuds assume a meaningful dimension that they couldn't have had in the original, and all the musical changes that bogged down the original are given new life because of Liles' determination to maintain some semblance of unity within the song. The percussion on "From Broken Cross, Locusts" also benefits from Liles' careful hand. Instead of being monotonous and ineffective, they achieve a truly martial status that reminds me more precisely and fully of a fascist dread marked by the terror of marching and perfectly polished boots. Tibet's Antichrist-chant is invigorated by various effects and benefits from being truncated slightly. The song is thus made into the whirlwind of hatred I suspect it was intended to be. "Raio No Terrasu (Jesus Wept)" is given the most radical transformation. On Dogs Blood Ascending it is a quiet, subdued piece, emphasizing the somber quality of Christ's sacrifice. It's a real tribute to Liles' talent that he managed to latch onto the record's major themes and improve upon their presentation without rendering the album completely unidentifiable. It also shows that all the necessary pieces to the puzzle were available to Tibet in the crafting of this album; they were ready to be assembled in a powerful way, but simply weren't realized as well as they could've been. The remix ends with "St. Peter's Keys All Bloody," but this time a musical accompaniment that approximates "The Sounds of Silence's" melody is the main feature. Tibet's vocals appear, too, but the contrast between the toy-box melody and his pronounced groans adds a depth to the song not present in the original.
This Alabama-raised Atlanta-based trio impressed Killer Pimp late last year and we put out plenty of people and feelers in the area. We got them on the same bill as APTBS in Atlanta and Athens and reports were all positive. They've definitely got the loud thing going on but they know both how to arrange songs and how to arrange an album. Fire On Corridor X was produced with Ben H. Allen (Gnarls Barkley, Animal Collective, P-Diddy, Christina Aguilera) and sounds fantastic. But don't take our word for it: two MP3s are being given away from the album at killerpimp.com and the group is about to embark on a small East Coast US tour to coincide with the release (read on for dates and locations).
5/28/08 DC9 Washington DC 5/29/08 Pianos New York NY 5/30/08 the Saint Asbury Park NJ 5/31/08 The Khyber Philadelphia PA 6/1/08 TT the Bears Cambridge MA 6/3/08 TBA Baltimore, MD 6/4/08 Local 506 Chapel Hill NC 6/5/08 The Rocket Asheville NC 6/6/08 Barley's Knoxville TN 6/7/08 The Earl Atlanta GA
All the Saints are: Matt Lambert - Guitar/Vocals; Jim Crook - Drums; Titus Brown - Bass/Vocals Produced by Ben H. Allen (Gnarls Barkley, Animal Collective, P-Diddy, Christina Aguilera) and All The Saints.
Don't be fooled by the piss-stained mattress on the cover, the debut from this Alabama-raised Atlanta-based power trio is moderately clean for one of Atlanta's most thunderous groups. All The Saints not only commanded their control of volume and intensity, but with their debut album have proven their abilities in composition and arrangement. These ten songs often flow together, creating a fully-realized conceptual album, without being a "concept album." The stellar production of Ben H. Allen (Gnarls Barkley, Animal Collective, P-Diddy, Christina Aguilera) compliments their abilities as players and singers. Reference points include Loop, Gun Club, Verbena, In Camera, Federation X, and Swans. The band has earned fans in groups like Deerhunter, Battles, and A Place To Bury Strangers, and will embark on a small East-Coast tour upon the release of Fire On Corridor X. See their Myspace page at http://www.myspace.com/allthesaints for streaming songs, videos, and live dates.
"Sounding like a mash-up of The Stone Roses, Dinosaur Jr. and 400 Blows (the band, not the Truffaut movie), Georgia's All the Saints come marching in with amps set to "stun." A "power trio" par excellence, the boys ain't afraid to dip into some psych-doom-blues a la a bands like Cactus or Pentagram or Blue Cheer, either. Sherman may have burned Hotlanta down first, but don't get the flammables too near these fellers."-CL, Charlotte (Davis)
"Sinewy acid-psych thrum that ebbs and flows." - Independent Weekly, Chapel Hill
"Atlanta's heavy psych traffickers... local killers." - Creative Loafing
"For a three-piece, All the Saints sure make a hell of a lot of noise." - Atlanta Music Guide
"Simply put, they're loud and they rocked the joint." - CableAndTweed.com
"Driving, psychedelic-influenced rock relying less on hype and more on substance." - DeadJournalist.com
"All the Saints have a brand new, six-song, self-titled CD that'll melt your face off. The psychedelic hard-rockers come off like Blue Cheer and Mudhoney playing tonsil hockey. Earplugs and blotter may be prevalent tonight." - Stomp and Stammer
"I tracked their MySpace page down. Before I could even rush to the speakers to turn the volume down I was completely blown away by what I was hearing. I wanted to know everything about this band. I wanted everyone I know to listen to this band and be amazed. There isn't a track on their album that doesn't warrant listening to." - KISSatlanta.
"Feeeeeeeeeeeeeeedback, and then… All the Saints play faithful Sabbath meets Nirvana, in sebagos, with a giant metal fleur de lis. They are loud, sludgy, and intense." - GoldenFiddle.com
Jan St. Werner should be no stranger, he's 1/2 of the core of Mouse On Mars and a full time member of Von Südenfed and Microstoria. Mound Magnet pt. 2: Elevations Above Sea Level will be released by Killer Pimp on May 27th. The limited vinyl edition (300 copies) is available through Sonig.com and the MP3s are available from fina-music.com. The CD version by KILLER PIMP contains one bonus track however.
CD contains 1 bonus track not on LP or MP3 download MP3 download available from Fina Music LP available from Sonig
"Elevations above Sea Level" is the second Mound Magnet part from Lithops aka Jan St Werner, 1/2 of the prolific duo Mouse on Mars, 1/3 of last year's surprise collaboration "Von Südenfed" with the Fall's Mark E Smith and 1/2 of the dsp group Microstoria. Though he is a prolific producer he seems to have a fascination with rollover dates (he cancelled mostly every Lithops gig in the last 5 years) does that spill into a fascination with cycles of nature? No! Actually he's more interested in the cycling by man-made machines, as expressed in the Mound Magent sequel. "Elevations above Sea Level" gives us aural diagrams of a large, hypermodern cities with futuristic vehicles moving around. The electrical ticking of fluorescent advertising panels, a thwappy airiness of the ventilation system, the rattles of trains and chopped up hums of distant roads, the mechanical groans that maintenance machinery starts up with, rain drumming on the stretched glass roofs of urban malls, the howling groans of motorcycles on city highways. It's not an ambient record by any means, nor is it purely musique concrete. It's rather an acid fulled hallucination of how to detect an idea of the future in the noises that surround us. Though he uses some of the sound editing methods like his contemporaries (and his own other groups), this doesn't mass into huge pools to make a statement; the basslines, hums, jolts and whooshes divide and multiply into sections like buildings and streets are divided, from sub-basements to rooftops, alleys and boulevards, by stories. Lithops' narcoleptic programming has a precision which holds the listener completely captive -- difficult, haunting and highly enjoyable. The limited vinyl version is available on Sonig.
Over a decade since his weeded out, hip-hop tinged hit “Herb Fi Bun” and the corresponding dancehall-geared solo debut Stand Out, the man known to his mom as Everold Dwyer fully extols a sincere love of Jah with this above-average collection.
Topically par for the course with the bulk of modern roots, The Most High finds Daddy Rings constantly and affably singing praises for Empersor Haile Selassie and the virtuous tenets of Rastafarianism. Those unfamiliar with this music might be put off by these spiritual and heavy-handedly judgmental verses, conveniently located in an uncharacteristically fat booklet. Still, any dedicated reggae fan will recognize the talents of this practiced performer on songs such as "African Glory" and the cautionary "Cut Off."
Not committed to any particular style, Daddy Rings revels in the joys of variety, as with the saccharine pop ditty "Hard Road," replete with lilting backing harmonies, and the rugged Mavado-like dancehall militancy of "Rise With Jah." As someone more than appreciative of ganja anthems, "The Weed Song" just about exceeds my expectations and, in my estimation, surpasses the socio-politically apt though musically dated "Herb Fi Bun."
With contributions from heavyweights Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare, along with several other producers and session players, The Most High doesn't surpass leading lights like Luciano or Sizzla, though it certainly reminds that modern roots music doesn't begin and end with the more prolific ones. Daddy Rings' return to the full-length album format was well worth waiting for.
Not just another British dance rock import, this Oxford-based ensemble imbue and invigorate the sagging subgenre with virulent, playful hooks that feel so natural they ought to shame the DFA Records stable in immediate, unconditional retirement.
The youthful group's impressive chart success in their native country might not translate to similar appreciation stateside, though listening to these sensational, emotive, and often electrifying tunes, that hardly seems relevant.
Foals make a joyful though secular noise throughout Antidotes, from the percolating opener "The French Open" all the way through the duo of exclusive bonus tracks which Sub Pop has astutely chosen to include. With some of the best usage of horns in rock music this side of The Stooges, the band constantly raise the bar for other post-millennial indie upstarts with the splendid singles "Cassius" and "Balloons," the latter having practically burnt a hole in my now-deceased iPod from excessive repeat play. The multitracked vocals of Yannis Philippakis mount the sturdy rhythms and quirky melodies of quality tracks like "Olympic Airways" and the spacious, arena ready anthem, "Big Big Love."
Somewhat famous already for rejecting the initial production work done by Dave Sitek of TV On The Radio, Foals have little need for name-checkable collaborators, as these intelligent, angular party tunes more than compensate for their neophytic status. Ignore at your peril.