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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Quatermass Hang a fat chick in a sequin jumpsuit from the ceiling and break outthe cocaine. The beats are fat, the melodies are slick, and theinstrumentation is a biological mass of boogiemania. Vacuous Ninnies'self-titled party-on-a-CD is an accumulation of strange sounds that arecut, pasted, manipulated, and arranged into either dancey fireballs orultra cool chillouts. What's interesting is that none of that fluffyand yuppy-like smooth production is employed nor are any minimalistictendencies revealed. The samples are robust and lively and mixed intobeautiful melodies and chugging beats. Although "Cripples Fall Down"opens the album, it's the fun-machine known as "(Can't) Get Up" thatreally kicks things off. It's full of dissected vocal samples, glidingsynthesizers that cut the air like a jet of pure 80's soul and arumptastic, rubbery beat. The slower songs have a more wondering feelabout them: there isn't always a fixed melody and the beat isn't alwaysexplosive but the effect is gentle and ravishing. There's a sense ofhumor throughout this full-length, too. Some of the samples used areabsolutely whacky and at times a bit psychadelic. None of the music hasa serious or "arty" attitude. The sounds don't always glide togetherflawlessly and as a result the melodies can sound just slightlyout-of-control or off-center. Why bother "perfecting" something likethis when it sounds so exceptional in a wild and untamed state? I getthe distinct impression that whoever the Vacuous Ninnies are, they hada whole lot of fun making this.
Hymen The much anticipated synthesized sexual symphony of Hecate's RachaelKozak and Venetian Snares' Aaron Funk is quite clinical in its finalstate. Created entirely from sounds of the two's sexcapades in variousplaces on their tour, the music is more appealing in the creationconcept. What's left at the end are the thumps of bed posts as bassdrum kicks, loads of high-pitched rhythmic sounds and only a tinysplash of bedroom banter. The second cut (or first non-filler song ifyou discount the Intro) "Blood on the Rope" gives a lot of hope withsome heavy breathing and some skin slapping sounds towards thebeginning, but it shortly gives way to moderately unchallengingmechanic dark drum 'n bass. The two deserve credit for assembling 35minutes of music which rarely resemble the original sources, butthere's something to be said for a stronger incorporation of untouchedrecordings back in to the mix once things have become unrecognizable.After being in love with the previous two brilliant EPs from VenetianSnares on Hymen, the Nymphomatriarch is musically a let-down as itdoesn't even seem as provocative or daring as either nor as the hypewould make it seem. Fans of clean drum 'n bass sounds might feelslightly different, however, and with about 12 minutes of underwaterambience smack-dab in the middle, those who can only read about sexmight find a charge. The closest this extended single comes to orgasmicis in the second to last track (or last non-filler track) "Pervs,"where more skin slapping could be taking place, but it's so far removedfrom recognition that it could easily be just another clever computerplugin. Perhaps I'm too much of a sick pervert, myself, but I think Iwas truly jonesing for a more voyeuristic and unlubricated experience,one where the sound could conjure the smells of the breath and fluidsof everybody involved.
Benbecula Christ's first full-length album is a dubby and thick pudding of scarydreams and rainbow-filled landscapes. Christ has been compared toBoards of Canada before, but I think it would be a mistake to leave adescription of Metamorphic Reproduction Miracleat that. The songs walk a fine line between static repetition andirregular activity. Keyboards will chime and gurgle while a solidrhythm runs around in circles in the background; they are inseperablefrom eachother and the effect of one relies on the effect of the other.As a result the music often feels like a blob slowly oozing its way upmy body. There are plenty of detuned tones and happy melodies, butthere is an added element (mostly in the early tracks) of horror, too."Lazy Daisy Meadow" features a sizzling electronic voice sufferingunder an overcast of humming clouds and "Dianoes Nouveau" is abrilliant dub-influenced piece armed to the teeth with anxiety,apprehension, and a stunning arrangement that coheres into a mass ofbeautiful melody. The manner in which Christ arranges his instrumentsis confusing at first. The music has movement and there's an element ofhip-hop in some songs, but often there's a feeling as if the music isonly producing the illusion of movement. The quality of the entirealbum is very organic and gooey. Metamorphic is neitherentirely dark nor wholly joyous; instead it strikes a nice balancebetween the two extremes that makes it listenable at about any time.I'd like to hear more from Christ, especially something focused on thesound exposed in "Dianoes Nouveau." Eventually the goo dries up and bythe time "School Is Not Compulsory" fades away I'm left feeling alittle teased. The same thing that makes the early part of this albumgreat ends up making the last part feel a bit drawn out: a little morevariation and breath outside the blob would certainly be nice.
Load Then there's that scene in the Wizard of Oz where the hurricane comesknocking on the door and there's no stopping it. Sightings latest albumopens with the sound of the scenes that would have been cut from thefilm for being too graphically violent. There's a mess of nature at thedoor and it's ready to explode itself on everybody inside, blasting allwith a violent barrage of dirt, water, debris and a tractor orsomething. It's impossible to shut the door, it's impossible to escape,and nothing is safe in its path. There's only a few points where theattack becomes less violent, like by the third track, "Anna Mae Wang,"which, at its calmest, sounds like a busy construction site. But, theparty starts back up again with the closest Sightings will ever come toa funky post-punk dancefloor smash, "Bishops," and continues with theequally dancey "Canadian Money." The second half is certainly a morebody friendly as songs like "Right Side of the Hall" could be an homageto the violent techno of earlier Panacea days while the closer,"Reduction" could pass for Liquid Liquid or A Certain Ratio put througha distorted Sightings-designed noise filter. Make no mistake about it:there's nothing accidental about their sound, as the trio full aware ofthe potential of gear and the ability to make everything moreblistering and sweaty without making it sound like a crackpot crew ofamateurs. It makes me proud to live in such a wonderful time whenrockers and noisemongers can live in ear bleeding disharmony.
Ba Da Bing! Often, what is said only complicates matters, and what can be seen orshown carries more weight, especially when it is expressed in athoughtful way. Minor Shadowsplays like the accompaniment to a film or documentary, but instead ofthe music enhancing images and ideas that it is purposefully coupledwith, here they conjure those images themselves. Their long pieces arecomposed and arranged as if with a cinematographer's eye; each note orpluck positioned to lend the scene the proper depth, the most vividillumination or the right shading to reveal the finest details thatgives the image, whether visual or aural, the greatest sensual impact.The patient, lingering guitar strokes of "In 1983 He Loved to Fly"seize upon implications of the title's past tense verb. It creates afeeling of watching someone living out a memory, staring at a gray skyas the warmth of the guitar plucks hovers while the accompaniment fadesaway leaving it alone and precariously aloft, unsupported. The chordstroke fades, only to return just as intensely before repeating itsreminder again and again. 1 Mile North finds that subtlety andrestraint can be virtues and employs them throughout Minor Shadows,never lapsing into indulgent tedium, but finding a comfortable nook inwhich to base their songs before they move outward. Their progressionis not explosive, nor is it fiery. The tension and presence is feltlike heat from a radiator, filling the room in waves. "The Sick" beginswith a simple strum, different from the preceding songs in that it issomewhat more ragged, more percussive in its strike. Sampled drums hitscrop up intermittently as keyboards rise and fall around giving aneerie mood to the piece. Finally, the strum unfurls into a melody thatreleases the anxiety it initially presented, not by speeding up orsnarling out but simply elaborating on the plot. In this sense, asingle hushed word is worth a thousand shouted ones. This dichotomyappears almost literally on the next track, "Black Lines," whichfeatures a film sound clip of a father viciously berating and verballyabusing his son. In response, 1 Mile North plays along with theirpatient track as if assuming the point of view of the victim of theclip. Their music finds both the fear of the situation but in itssteady keyboard melody it also implies an almost triumphant resolve.The clip adds a wonderful tension to the track, and provides anexcellent foil for 1 Mile North to converse with. This dialog serves asan argument, the fury of the actor mingling with the music, and yet forall the histrionics he flings, he is unable to unsettle it. It is amoment of insight where Minor Shadows proves that quite a bit can be said or shown when care and consideration is taken to crafting an intricate scene.
When you listen to Thighpaulsandra's music, your cup most certainly runneth over. In fact, Thighpaulsandra may be one of the most indulgent musicians working today. Tim Lewis' gooey concoctions of all of the most exaggerated elements of prog, krautrock, glam rock and homoeroticism is not some postmodern juxtaposition of styles meant to demonstrate his cleverness. Rather, it is the work of a man who fetishizes the music he loves to the point of overdose. This is not a bad thing. Indeed, it is a pleasure to hear music as un-selfconscious as Thighpaulsandra's, that is referential without resorting to parody or irony. His Some Head and Michel Publicity Window EPs both ingeniously exhibited Thighpaulsandra's talent for making his musical fetishes coherent and enticing to listeners. Thighpaulsandra's singular mastery of analog synthesizers has made him the ideal choice for collaborations with Julian Cope, Spiritualized and Coil. 2001's I, Thighpaulsandra, was an exhasting 2-CD set that displayed his skills at catalizing beautiful and unique long-form compositions, but also evidenced his prog-esque penchant for overblown, overlong self-indulgent wankery. I, Thighpaulsandra was thankfully saved from being relegated to the same pile as Yes' Tales From Topographic Oceans by its energetic spirit and the jarring eclecticism of each track. The new album definitely benefits from its relatively efficient length. Double Vulgar is a tighter, slimmer and sexier beast, much like the young naked men that adorn the album's artwork in various states of aesthetic slavery, death and decay. Thighpaulsandra is assisted by an assortment of terrific collaborators, including familiar names from the Coil family such as The Boy Anal, Martin Schellard, Cliff Stapleton, Ossian Brown and Jhon Balance. "The Bush Administration Project" combines the operatic voice of Thighpaulsandra's mum Dorothy Lewis backed by some very minimal piano, before majestic synthesizers explode into prominence, with all the magic and pomp of Phaedra-era Tangerine Dream. The second track "Slammer" takes a sharp left turn into a deeply rhythmic rock n' roll groove, with sexy vocals courtesy of Sion Orgon. Synthesizers are wielded for maximum psychedelic effect, sounding like a recontextualized version of bad-but-interesting 70's prog-rock like The Sensational Alex Harvey Band or Curved Air. "On the Horns of Magda Reuth" is an improvised jam that utilizes the strange and rare Russian ANS synthesizer, along with guitars and hurdy gurdy. It's a lengthy, psychedelic jam session, but it's much more Nurse With Wound than Grateful Dead, with its eerie atmosphere and sudden launches into pounding industrial oscillations. "The Circumcision of Christ" meanders around a bit in sampled shortwave radio transmissions, before turning into a wickedly brutal electro-rock song with soaring, mutated vocals. The title track is also the most brilliant—an unfolding drama that melds medievalism with Eno-ambience before transforming into a massive glam-metal-Kraut groove, with joyously barked vocals by the Welshman himself. The brief, twisted noise explosion of "He Tastes of the Sea" is followed quickly by the eroticized drones of "His Royal Highness The Prince of Wales Breaches Reality." This ritualized sex fantasy utilizes the beatiful vibratory Farfisa organ along with samples of some rather shockingly lewd pillow talk between Ossian Sex-Shop and another unidentified pervert. Double Vulgar is unmistakably the work of an artist who has the uncanny ability both to shamelessly wallow in his own predilections, and persuade the listener to go along for the ride.
Sonore The various field recordings, found sounds, and narratives that composethis album somehow add up to a satisfying listen despite theirseemingly random order. The liner notes suggest listening to the CD inrandom order and also relate the fact that much of the material wasoriginally recorded on a cassette tape. There are some points wherethis is clear but for the most part the fact that this was originallyrecorded to cassette tape is unimportant. The sounds are a mishmash ofstrange tones, almost danceable beats, non-English narrations, andshort blurs of speech and machine sounds. Yuko Nexus6 captures many ofthe every day sounds that I find fascinating and runs them along not socommon sounds that might be discovered while manipulating stretches oftape or a turntable. Many of the tracks are under one minute in lengthand are simply short sound portraits. Other tracks are just over twominutes and a rare few run over five minutes long. The longer tracksare sound collages that run the gamut from exciting to boring and drawnout. However, they have moments spread out within themselves thatsomehow revive my interest in them despite the rather blandinterruptions. I often get the impression that I'm listening to a radiothat is being tuned to several different frequencies at irregularintervals and enjoy the disparity. There are elements of earlyelectronic composition on Journal De Tokyo. There's not an air of academia, but instead an air of adventure and curiousity that keeps me listening.
Ghostly International In a time when folks often tend to expect small independent labels tospecialize in a particular sound, style or sub-sub-genre, GhostlyInternational is definitely an anomaly. When they debuted in 2000 withTadd Mullinix's Winking Makes A Facealbum, they were viewed as a new addition to the cluster of Americanlabels such as Schematic and Isophlux that were concentrating primarilyon Aphex- and Autechre-influenced IDM. However, with each subsequentGhostly record (not to mention their dancefloor-orientated sublabel,Spectral Sounds), the imprint has continued to blur the lines betweengenres, releasing everything from downtempo instrumental hip-hop tominimal techno to neo-synthpop and electro. This latter category hasbecome what many people know them for, thanks to the success of lastyear's great Disco Nouveau compilation that came out just intime to catch the tail end of all of that "electroclash" foolishness.Unlike that carefully planned and strictly curated collection, Idol Tryoutshas no theme or concept aside from being a traditional label sampler,featuring tracks from previous and upcoming releases alongside a fewexclusive bits. As you might expect, the result is a bit of a stylisticmish-mash, but since most of the tracks are pretty damn good, it feelsmore like a slightly schizophrenic but still cool mix-tape rather thanthe lazy promotional tool that these sort of projects often turn out tobe. Things get started a little slowly with "Making it Pay" by Dabrye (oneof several pseudonyms used by Tadd Mullinix), a head-nodding hip-hoppiece that is pleasant but doesn't leave much of an impression. Alittle more meat can be found right afterwards in the stormingelectro-disco of Charles Manier's "At The Bottle". Midwest Product thencome in with a pair of chilled and cinematic downtempo tracks—one ofthem a spacey remix by Telefon Tel Aviv—that will put you back on thecouch with a smile and spliff (should you be so inclined). And so itgoes from there, whiplashing back and forth from the cold industro-funkof Kill Memory Crash, to the crisp minimal tech-house of Matthew Dearand Osborne, to the lush and melodic IDM of Outputmessage, to thecompletely unexpected but very cool psych-pop cover of Wire's "Map Ref.41° N 93° W" by Dykehouse. By the time the album comes full circle withthe set-closing Prefuse 73 "megamix" of Dabrye, the listener has notonly been taken on a tour though the world of Ghostly/Spectral, butthey've also been given a more general taste of the current state ofthings in the American indie electronic music scene. If the generalquality of the material on this disc is any indication, things ain'tlooking half bad.
At the outset, this seems like a very strange matching of artists for an EP. Monster Movie craft more electropop for the shoegazer set while Dreamend concoct droned instrumental music with a very improvisational feel if not creation process. Together on the same EP, they sound worlds apart, with their only common element being drone; but considering the fact that this is the first Graveface Records wide release, it becomes apparent that this is more for them than either of the artists.
Graveface show impeccable detail with Preface, much as they have with any of the limited releases they've put out in the past. Cardboard packaging with detailed cover art and a collage or piece of artwork by one of the two bands as the CD sleeve are just two of the characteristics of this EP that show you what care Graveface takes with their product. As for the music inside, it's a mixed bag, and not just because of the two artists making two different types of music. Monster Movie is becoming one of those "it's almost perfect, but" bands. Their first track, "Beautiful Arctic Star," is a glorious keyboard-based piece. The melody is infectious, the lyrics and vocals complement it well, and it builds just right then fades away. Then the second song goes and mucks it all up for them. "Nobody Sees" is also keys-based, but the vocals are processed through a horrible echo effect, plus they're just off-pitch in enough areas to drive me up the wall. They need to make a leap forward, and soon, because this sound and its cracks are starting to wear. Dreamend's tracks, or "...Ellipsis..." which is split into three tracks, is gorgeous. Drone guitar and bass, solid drumming, and pretty guitar lines over the top push the composition to a very space rock conclusion. Fans of Mogwai would not be disappointed. This is a real triumph for Graveface, but now all I want to hear is more from Dreamend.
Kimchee I'mtired of all the bands that are obviously influenced by Spaceman 3and/or Joy Division. Sure, they get a lot of the sound right: long,sprawling instrumental passages; psychedelic bass and guitar lines;pained vocals that sound reminiscent of Ian Curtis. After all is saidand done, though, they add nothing new to the musical landscape, andtheir output is a pale parody of itself. Suntan are the latest new bandto be acclaimed as though they are a vital addition to the psychedelicrock sound, when in fact their music is incredibly derivative. It's thesame old thing: slow build with low volume synths or lightly-playedguitar; add more guitars and drums; throw in echoed or processed vocalsdelivered lazily; once you're out of things to say, turn up the volumeand rock out. On the first track, "L #249747," the meandering andrepititious nature of the melody is only slightly less annoying thanthe need to extend the track out to nearly eleven minutes. Everythinginteresting on this song happens between 1:00 and 4:30, so there's noneed for it to have a long introduction and an angry denouement. "Bagit Up" is slightly better, though the dueling vocal parts with separateand different effects, meant to sound like a split personality, Ithink, got annoying real quick. Then when it should end, and it seemslike it does, the music comes right back again, building from cricketsor whistles to a noise fest that churns for another two and a halfminutes. It's completely unnecessary, and adds nothing to the song. Thefinal song, "Soak Up the Rays," may not sound original, but it showsreal promise for this band. A solid melody, anguished but not gratingvocals, and it's the first that justifies its length. For once the bandseems in the pocket, playing together on something approaching beauty.Ihope their debut album explores the strengths of the last song ratherthan the missteps of the first two.
Morr Music Under the guise of Populous, 22 year-old Italian Andrea Mangiamanipulates sampled drum loops, keyboards sounds and spoken wordclippings to create a very relaxed setting that tends to motion towardsthe laptop genre. To avoid a sometimes sterile environment within theblue glow set, Mangia uses slower Hip Hop beats and subtle synth basslines to create laid back grooves on most of the disc's nine tracks,while still keeping the skitter and crackle elements prominent in themix. At times, the passive approach to synth and various moduleprogressions comes across as near-soundscapes within the compositions,set to head-nodding rhythms. The sprawling time and one note upshot on"Ent-The Dexo" lays the foundation for underplayed keyboard motifswhich weave about to form the bare necessities of melodic movement."Clijster (Blepharo Edit)" clicks along with eerie synth swells thatease in to familiar Reggae keyboard accents, drawing in the long tonesof a sampled horn and squelchy beats. The throwback to the 70'ssoundtrack groove of bright bass, Rhodes piano and loose drums on"Stretch Abuse + Snare" is so settled that several repetitions arewelcomed for the drawn out keyboard padding to give the impression ofsome momentum. Quipotends to be a disc where the beats and grooves are given a minimalmelodic interpretation so as not to take away from the comfortableatmosphere created by the gentle waves of keyboards and assortedelectronic elements.