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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Transcendental tape loops and bedroom ambient dream states from the teenage mind of Warren Defever aka His Name Is Alive. All The Mirrors In The House is the first of three projected releases of very early works by the Detroit-based savant, prior to signing to 4AD in the late-1980s.
With help transferring aging cassettes and annotating the results from Shelley Salant of Tyvek, the unearthed results are revelatory - a gorgeous sequence of gently decaying tone float made with an incredibly primitive DIY set-up.
As Defever recounts in the liner notes: "By age ten, I had a tape recorder and was using it to capture the sounds of nearby lakes, thunderstorms, and my older brother's LP collection played at the wrong speeds. As a teenager, I got deep into all kinds of music - punk, new age, blues - and played bass in the high school jazz band, as well as studying Bach chorale harmonization and counterpoint. My first album consists of rhythm tracks made of loops of the next door neighbor raking leaves and shoveling the driveway with echoey guitars and vocals with lyrics about ghosts."
Inner sleeve essay and interview by Mike McGonigal, the founder of Chemical Balance magazine and YETI publishing, and the author of acclaimed books on My Bloody Valentine and Galaxie 500.
The first release from The Bug’s PRESSURE label in 2019 is an absolute sound system crusher from JK Flesh (aka Justin Broadrick Godflesh/Jesu/Zonal etc…). Three tracks of the slowest, heaviest, dread techno you are ever likely to hear. Plus a remix from The Bug himself, in full doom riff mode.
Kevin Martin (aka The Bug) is quoted as saying "I'm as proud of dropping this epic 12" as i was of being the person to release Godflesh's Love is a Dog from Hell, many moons ago on my old label Pathological Records. This time around, Justin again redefines absolute heaviness, but in a club format, as he gets sociopathic with his homicidal riffs and deep space explorations. Absolute malevolence, a complete body slaughter. I virtually begged Justin to let me release In Your Pit! Haha. And I'm very happy he agreed and additionally passed me two more tracks of utter dirt."
Shawnee, Ohio, the first album by sonic ethnographer Brian Harnetty on Karl, is an intriguing blend of archive recordings of interviews with residents of that small town and melancholic chamber-folk.
Brian Harnetty (b. 1973) is an interdisciplinary artist working between music composition, sound, and socially engaged art. Rooted in sound archives and the communities connected to them, his body of work contends that the simple act of listening –– to people, places, and their pasts –– can transform our futures.
Both a 2018 A Blade of Grass Fellow for Contemplative Practice and a recipient of the 2016 Creative Capital Performing Arts Award, Harnetty is deeply involved with local issues of Appalachia and the Midwest. He connects sound archives with performance, ecology, and place - an approach for which he was labelled a "sonic ethnographer." Many of his pieces transform archival material –– including field recordings, transcriptions, and historic recordings –– into newly re-contextualized sound collages. For more than a decade, this has led to projects with archives such as the Berea College Appalachian Sound Archives in Kentucky, the Sun Ra / El Saturn Archives in Chicago, and the Anne Grimes Collection in the Library of Congress. Harnetty has released four internationally acclaimed albums: American Winter (2007), Silent City (2009), The Star-Faced One (2013, MOJO Magazine's Underground Album of the Year!), and Rawhead & Bloodybones (2015).
In the words of Brian Harnetty himself:
Shawnee, Ohio is a sonic portrait––past and present, real and imagined––of a small Appalachian town in the United States.
Shawnee emerged as a coal mining town in the 1870s. A century of decline forced businesses and people to leave, and today local residents fight to hold their buildings and community up amid a new “fracking” boom. Despite an uncertain future, these residents continue to work for environmental, economic, and cultural enrichment. Since 2010, I have been visiting and working in Shawnee. I have also been retracing the footsteps of my family, who immigrated there as Welsh coal miners in the nineteenth century.
Shawnee, Ohio focuses on eleven portraits of local residents recounting their lives, work, friendships, and deeds. They talk and sing of mining, disasters, underground fires, social life, protest, and hope. They include women and men, are black and white, and are across generations and centuries. Working directly with community members, I use archival samples of their voices and weave them together with my own ensemble. Past and present are tangled together in a haunting world of music, stories, and images."
Danielle de Picciotto was born a nomad on the US Army base at Ft. Lewis in Tacoma, Washington. Thus her journey started, moving from one base to another for years.
In 1987 she moved from NYC to Berlin to initiate the Berlin Love Parade together with her then boyfriend Dr. Motte, to create the Ocean Club with Gudrun Gut, one of her longest standing collaborators, to be engaged to the late Roland Wolf of the Bad Seeds, to become the renowned singer of the Berlin band Space Cowboys, to exhibit her art and films internationally in multiple museums, and from 2001 to start collaborating with Alexander Hacke, founding member of Einstürzende Neubauten.
They married in 2006 and with him her travels continue! The artist couple gave up their home in Berlin 2010, and have been touring the world since.
Danielle de Picciotto’s new album Deliverance speaks of these travels and the state of our world from an eagle’s perspective. Despair and hope lie side by side, mirroring the dark shadows and beauty she has experienced on her journey. Her music is a mixture of spoken word, electronic soundscapes, melancholic violin harmonies, and surreal choirs, moving back and forth from experimental sounds to beautiful melodies managing thus to blend hope and despair into a cosmos of constant flux.
Imagine Laurie Anderson dancing with This Mortal Coil in a strange wasteland of dreams and sounds, that is Danielle's universe. It is one that faces reality and its challenges with mystical, dreamlike wisdom, discovering solutions in unexpected alcoves, offering hope and wonder as an alternative.
The album, a limited edition of just 150 pressed on black vinyl presented case bound with 24 pages of the art she has created during her years of traveling including a hand-numbered and signed screen print.
Her black and white ink sketches that also overlay colourful backgrounds, reveal her personal state of mind and emotions in a college of images and textures that expand her musical visions into a fascinating three dimensional experience.
The new Meat Beat Manifesto album Opaque Couché will be released on May 10th 2019 on CD, vinyl and digital formats. The double vinyl will come in two flavors – regular black vinyl and a limited-edition opaque couché (brown) picture disc (300 copies worldwide) in association with the UK's Electronic Sound magazine.
Jack says of the album: “Opaque Couché”* continues the search for the most imperfect pop song, with sixteen opaque tracks it can be seen as a companion to Impossible Star.”
* Opaque Couché is known as the world’s ugliest color," used on cigarette packets to discourage smoking.
Mariska Baars and Rutger Zuydervelt go way back. And although they regularly work together in the quartet Piiptsjilling, their last effort as a duo stems from 2008, the album Drawn (on Foxy Digitalis/Morc).
But now Eau is here. Eau (pronounced "oh") means "water" in French, and that's how it sounds; like gently rocking waves of sound, or like a babbling sonic stream of fractured audio debris. It also sounds a bit like the equivalent of sunlight dancing on the ripples of a lake's surface.
Eau is not really a song, or a composition. Well, technically it is, but it functions more like an atmosphere that fills the space. Just let it play (on repeat…) and let the sounds hang in the room - let them co-exist with any other sound that's there. Open a window if you wish! Or, experience the trip on headphones, let these soft tones, gentle voices, buzzes and crackles tickle the inside of your skull.
Eau was mastered by the one and only Stephan Mathieu, who made this carefully crafted audio patchwork shine even more.
Argentinian trio Reynols are perhaps one of the most baffling and unabashedly unique artists to arise from the tape/noise underground scene of the past 20 years. Their recorded output has run the gamut of psychedelic rock, pure noise, heavily conceptual works (such as a processed field recording of chickens), and so much more. With the bulk of their work confined to ultra limited cassettes and CDRs, this beautiful collection of six CDs and a DVD, along with extensive liner notes makes for a perfect starting point of collaborations, two unreleased albums, and a slew of unreleased and rare songs.
For better or worse, one of the elements of Reynols that has garnered the most attention is drummer/vocalist/"spiritual leader" Miguel Tomasín, who has Down syndrome.On the surface, this could come across as a gimmick at best, and exploitation at worst.However, it is clear that the other two members, Anla Courtis and Roberto Conlazo are guided by Tomasín’s unconventional artistic outlook and conceptual ideas for music and sound art, making him truly the leader of the band.Reynols could also be pigeonholed into the realm of "outsider art" for their unconventional approach, but that also does them a significant injustice as they are true artists in their own right.
The first disc captures Reynols at their earliest, between 1993 and 1994 and makes it abundantly clear that even from the onset they were a band like no other.From their first tape, "3/7" (from when they were still the Burt Reynols Ensemble) is a ramshackle collage of feedback and distortion, while both "Paleolithic Tango" and "Yuczapoll Suite" are sprawling space rock freak-outs of the highest caliber.On the other side of the spectrum are the experimental treated horns of "Port√°til" and the understated electronic tones of "Pre-Pankow".
Disc four, Conceptual Mogal, compiles a selection of previously unreleased conceptual works from throughout their career.This includes the third part to "10,000 Chickens' Symphony," which comes across more as a mass of chirpy almost-synth sounds constructing a harsh noise wall.The churning, bassy noise that makes up "Reynols Plays the Eiffel Tower" is constructed by Courtis and Conlazo literally using the sounds of the tower to make up a classically noise textured piece."Live at NASA" is a lengthy live performance from Houston, Texas in 2000 that covers all the bases:hissing tapes, buzzing synths, monolithic reverbs, and so forth.
Two unreleased albums from the first half of the 2000s are also included, and both feature Reynols in more traditionally musical territories."Adeos Pebro" from Roniles Dasa Selebro makes for an excellent mid-paced post rock number, with Tomasín’s drumming and vocals at the forefront, while the other two flesh out the mix with infrequent noise outbursts and effects.There is an industrial punk edge to "Loh Vijitanos Cuvana", but by the end of the song there’s a ton of distortion and jazz horn outbursts.Of course there are a few curveballs to be had, such as the twangy folk ballads "123051 Caduelo Ridos" and "Un Dama Niticas."
The other unreleased album, Vedeosmas Tecretre, features a similar combination of off-kilter musical styles.On "Pawe Recy Catu (Gradero)" and "Un Mastro Cademia," Tomasín leads the band with his vocals, culminating in some rather light, pleasantly bent pop songs, while the latter does drift into harsh guitar squall later on.There is an almost pop-punk sound to "Los Cara Utica" that is undeniably catchy, even through its intensely low fidelity production.For "Ruavas Ruman Macia" the band goes full on into Latin disco mode for an even more out there song.Reynols’ traditional noise tendencies shine through on here as well, especially on the distorted loops of "Catuneru Rinti Domati" and the distorted synth throb of "Novi Ormigas Tomica."
Reynols have also taken part in a multitude of diverse collaborations that are captured on Disc six.There are two collaborations with Dr. Socolinksy, a famous Argentinean television personality, both of which feature the band embracing an almost jazzy lounge sound that does not appear much on the other recordings.There is also a collaboration with legendary composer Pauline Oliveros, "El Pajaro Mixto Returns" that is clearly in line with her body of work, consisting largely of spacious, meditative tones and rumbles.At the other end there is their collaboration with Acid Mothers Temple, "Burning the Sun, Gently," which is a slowly unfolding psychedelic mass of sound that peaks in a gloriously overdriven climax.
Perhaps the most striking—and I would argue important—facet of Reynols is that there is an undeniable sense of true joy and fun to their work.The concepts that the trio work with potentially could come across as beard stroking pretense, framed by self-felliating artist statements and unnecessary verbiage, but there is none of that here.Instead, Reynols are motivated by the simple pleasure of creating sounds from a wide array of methodologies, for their own enjoyment as well as anyone who decides to listen.As always with Pica Disk, Lasse Marhaug’s work on curating and the presentation of this material deserves recognition as well.Lavishly presented with individual photo sleeves for the discs and two substantial booklets, one of essays and another of photos, it is another labor of love that truly makes for a complete package.With so much material and so many different styles to be had, Minecxio Emanations 1993​-​2018 is an infinitely engaging collection of heady, yet entirely enjoyable art.
I am embarrassed to say that I naively thought last year's stellar split with Wayne Robert Thomas might be the dawning of a new era, as Dunn's "The Searchers" was a brilliantly distilled masterpiece of focused, sublime beauty. While there is at least one piece on this latest release that attains a similar degree of dazzling, dreamlike perfection, Dunn's flair for grand gestures has returned with a vengeance for From Here To Eternity (an album that is every bit as characteristically infinite as it is characteristically sad). On one level, I dearly wish Dunn would stop burying his brightest moments in overwhelming double- or triple-album avalanches of ambient drone. On another, however, the sprawling scope of this album offers its own pleasures, as immersing myself into a three-hour reverie of billowing, soft-focus suspended animation is quite a quietly lovely and meditative way to spend an afternoon. To Dunn's great credit, however, there are also some menacing spectres of unexpected violence and dissonance lurking within his fog of drones, revealing that the seeming tranquility is a fragile veneer that conceals simmering tensions and enigmatic depths.
Much like Celer's Will Long, Kyle Bobby Dunn is a prolific and beloved figure in the contemporary ambient drone scene with a strong predilection for floating, soft-focus melancholy.While the two diverge in significant ways (Dunn is bitterly droll and fond of epic, monolithic releases), they share a very similar problem: it is extremely hard to make each new batch of elegantly blurred, slow-motion dreamscapes seem different and distinct from previous batches, especially when working with a very constrained, minimal palette.On From Here to Eternity, "Years Later Theme" is probably the most archetypal example of that particular palette, as gently shimmering swells of processed guitar languorously twist together to weave a blissful reverie. I expected to find a lot of such fare scattered through this opus given its extreme length, but Dunn proves to admirably inventive at finding fresh variations upon that familiar template (and he sometimes departs from it almost entirely).For the most part, those twists tend to involve a boiling or grinding undercurrent of harsh guitar noise, though there are also some occasional moments of almost beatific radiance, such as "Boul. Gouin" and "The Flattening."The endlessly shifting contrast and tension between the album's lighter and darker moments is an intriguing framework, as the album feels like a series of heartfelt attempts to recapture the elusive lingering impressions and half-remembered scenes from a lifetime of emotional peaks and valleys.During the most lovely pieces, it is very easy to imagine a flickering, soft-focus film loop that blurs the boundaries between childhood home movies and the sweeping romanticism of Hollywood's golden age.
Though I have no doubt at all that Dunn could have easily assembled an album this massive entirely on his own, he opted to try something a bit different with this release and invited a talented cast of collaborators to flesh out some of these pieces with their own arrangements.Notably, that list includes a murderers' row of artists from Kranky's golden age, as like-minded representatives from loscil, Pan American, Labradford, and Benoit Pioulard all make appearances.Curiously, however, all of their contributions blend quite seamlessly into Dunn's own vision, so it is quite easy to forget that they were even involved.In a few cases, however, Dunn's guests manage to assert themselves in more striking ways.The most impressive example is "Triple Axel on Cremazie," as Michael Vincent Waller's delicately twinkling and achingly beautiful piano motifs transform the warm, gently churning drones into the album's haunting centerpiece.Elsewhere, Josh Barsky adds some lovely organ to the hiss-soaked thrum of "Zendel Holiday Hangover Toccata," while Maryam Sirvan likely had a big hand in the howling and grinding crescendo of the album's closer "Eternity, the Stars & You."With the exception of "Triple Axel," however, Dunn still burns brightest on his own–particularly on "La Stationnement de Finders," which sounds like "The Searchers" being played back on a slightly murky and slowly disintegrating tape.Elsewhere, I was quite fond of "From Over to Wendover," which makes very poignant use of a movie sample for an understated crescendo (a woman's voice breaks through the bleary haze to plead "wait for me!").
I feel comfortable stating that From Here To Eternity is probably Dunn's strongest full-length to date, but he is still basically doing the same thing that he has always done and he has been quite good at it for a long time.The only real difference is that has become a bit more focused over the years.In fact, Kyle Bobby Dunn albums remind me of Haruki Murakami novels: no matter what the ostensible premise might be, Murakami is always irrevocably and obsessively drawn back to the same themes again and again.It feels like he is endlessly chasing an elusive vision and will not stop returning to it until he finally gets it exactly right (or, more likely, dies trying).If I had to guess, I would say that Dunn's own quixotic obsession is a desire to replace the cold harshness of the outside world with an appealingly warm, blurred, and poetic cinema of bittersweet memories.He is admittedly quite adept at conjuring that beautiful and sustained illusion on a grand scale, but it is a precarious edifice and this album in particular reveals an omnipresent darkness gnawing at the edges of that idyll.While the strongest pieces tend to be the ones where the light and dark attain a sort of fragile and temporary internal balance, the true depth and artistry of From Here to Eternity lies in the cumulative power of the whole rather than in its individual moments.
One of the many, many things that I feel vaguely and irrationally guilty about on a daily basis is my failure to take a deep plunge into the Editions Mego-curated Recollection GRM series, as there was a period in my life where I was extremely interested in classic musique concrète and was maddeningly unable to find much of it. Consequently, this series would have been an absolute revelation for me back then. Unfortunately, my passion for early electronic music is considerably diminished these days, as my historical curiosity has long since been sated and a lot of very important pieces have not aged particularly well. That said, there are some pieces that have aged quite well indeed and there are always some long-forgotten gems that have eluded me. This, the third Luc Ferrari release in the series, is one of those very pleasant surprises, resurrecting two lengthy tape pieces that range from playfully anarchic to enigmatically seductive.
The two pieces combined for this release make a curious and unexpectedly complementary pair, as they were never intended to share an album and explore very different sides of Ferrari's iconoclastic vision.Of the two, "Music Promenade" enjoys a far greater stature in Ferrari's oeuvre, standing as one of his most revolutionary and landmark works.It was first premiered in 1970 and was the culmination of five long years of recording and editing.Primarily intended as an installation, the piece was "played" by four separate tape machines and was intended to evoke "a (walking) man…struck by the violence of his surroundings.Nature has disappeared in a whirlwind of warfare and industry in the midst of which he encounters a dying folklore and a lost young girl."I cannot necessarily say that all (or any) of that quite comes across to me, but the piece is unquestionably a cacophonous and surreal mindfuck, as it sounds like an avant-garde theater performance colliding with multiple marching bands.
There are also some alternately space-y and cartoonish touches thrown in to further ensure that I am wrong-footed at all times.To top it all off, each of the four tapes is a slightly different length, so the bizarre juxtapositions between the disparate elements were intended to change their relation to one another with each repetition (the loops are each roughly twenty minutes).Sadly, putting the piece on an actual album necessarily fixes one of the near-infinite variations as the definitive version of the piece, but at least that version is one hell of a wonderfully deranged and vivid sensory assault.Also, it feels refreshingly different from today's insular experimental music scene in that it attempts (to some degree) to capture the life and sounds of the streets and the spirit of an era.Whether or not the average person had any interest in hearing it is certainly up for debate, but if one had happened to blunder into the installation, I suspect it would have made an impact on them.
Of course, there are some caveats.Obviously, it would be unforgivably arrogant describe groundbreaking and visionary art from a half century ago as "flawed," but any honest discussion of this release should at least note that "Music Promenade" did not emerge completely unscathed from its technological limitations and the prevailing trends of the era.Like many other serious composers from the mid-20th century, Ferrari gleefully rejected conventional notions of harmony or melody, but the chromatic blurts and jarring jump cuts that he replaced them with have not aged particularly well.Nor have the more electronic sounds that he sporadically uses.The actual field recordings, however, sound as vibrant and physical as ever.With the benefit of hindsight, I can say that "natural" sounds have a timelessness to them and pointedly unnatural sounds tend to have a very short window before they are eclipsed by whatever the next new thing is.That said, while the more modest "Unheimlich Schön" miraculously managed to nimbly avoid all the perils of embracing an ephemeral future, I am still more struck by the maniacal chaos of "Music Promenade."Ferrari was definitely swinging for the fences with that piece and I always appreciate messy, crazy gambles more than safer work executed masterfully.Much the like other two Ferrari reissues in this series, this one vividly shows exactly why Ferrari and the Groupe de Recherches Musicales have had such a large and lasting impact on the experimental music world.Nevertheless, I was delighted to find that Music Promenade/Unheimlich Schön also transcends its deserved status as A Very Important Historical Document and remains quite a unique and absorbing listening experience to this day.
Passageways is John Daniel's most personal work to date. An ode to his childhood home - a secluded apartment complex in Cleveland that his parents managed - Passageways refer to the various connecting hallways running between rooms as much as it refers to the way the passing of time overtakes our perception of spaces that seemed to be endless corridors into discovery and imagination. Passageways is full of submerged melodies, gentle pulls of surging tonal shifts that arc, shimmer and fade into the dark purple hue of the album's shifting overtones. The album rides the line of decaying drones that recall the best of Basinksi or Belong's October Language.
From John:
Passageways is a record about my childhood home.
The "passageways", in this case, are partially referring to hallways.
I grew up in a unique environment - a quiet and secluded 3-story apartment building in the west suburbs of Cleveland. My parents managed the building so our family had two apartments, eventually right next to each other. As a young kid I would adventure around the apartment building and its surrounding property, thick woods and greenery were behind the building and felt like an endless backyard. I attribute much of my early imagination and creativity to this place. My folks will be moving away in the next few years as my Dad plans to retire, so I'm planning on leaving a copy of the record with the building, hidden somewhere. I had lived in that building since I was 4 years old - the idea of your home no longer being there is strange, but change is necessary. This home was simply a "passageway" into the life that I live now- I believe it was instrumental in becoming an artist.
This is my folk record in a way. It is not musically obvious, but more in terms of how I approached the writing: A sense of sentimentality about home, about a place and time.
My first instrument (outside of the drums) was an acoustic guitar, and that's how I started out making solo music. I eventually learned that I wasn't a guitarist and sought more minimal, simple ways of making sounds. But that's really where things started, so I've always felt a connection to that type of music, even in these days of electronic music. I also think there's an idea about electronic music being a bit evasive or emotionally inaccessible at times, or lacking personal transparency. I wanted to challenge expectations of an ambient record by framing it how I would have 10 years ago. This is a development in a side of Forest Management that I've only recently begun to feel, and am doing my best to roll with it.
With the demise of the group Wire in 1980, founder members Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis joined forces to create Dome. With the assistance of engineer Eric Radcliffe and his Blackwing Studio, Dome took the ethic of "using the studio as a compositional tool" and recorded and released three Dome albums on their own label in the space of 12 months: DOME (July 1980), DOME 2 (October 1980) and DOME 3 (October 1981). A final fourth album, WILL YOU SPEAK THIS WORD: DOME IV was released on the Norwegian Uniton label in May 1983.
These albums represent some of the most beautifully stark and above all timeless exercises in studio experimentation from early 1980s alternative music scene.
Previously issued in the out of print DOME 1-4+5 box set in 2011. Now available as standalone LP with download card.