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It was a shock to me to find out that this was recorded live. Thearchitecture of the whole album is so well constructed that I was sureit was a studio album when I first listened to it. After payingattention to the liner notes, I realized that this was all done as aperformance without the help of editing. The music itself is a seriesof background drones recalling the feeling of winds blowing across avast desert, ominous hums that, for some reason, remind me ofstormtroopers and weaponry approaching over the horizon, and variousfound sounds tossed about as if in a blender. Here and there a guitarplucks some melodic but repetitive notes and builds a tension alreadypresent to a nice crescendo. The various sounds that cut into thewavering background range from the aquatic and metallic to the sci-fiand terrestrial. What's interesting is that after repeated listens theybegin to sound like melodies of noise. Either this is the result oflucky improvisation or it was a well-planned effect. In either case,there's something fairly impressive about the way these sounds aremanipulated and used. Backwards flutes and brief bursts of femalevoices either singing or talking cut into metallic chunks being groundtogether. The tension between these two samples resolves itself intothe sound of car horns pitched and extended creating a harmony betweenthe crunchy sounds of natural resources and the resonance of musicalelements. The two tracks here are quite long and can have someuneventful stretches but these are usually brief and do little todistract from the captivating moments. Did I mention that much of whatis featured here is done on turntables? I'm not quite sure how thesounds on this record were achieved by turntables and I doubt that theyweren't filtered and disturbed live by Pure and Martin Siewert butthere's really no indication that anything on this record was made withthe help of vinyl. The mystery, the music, the noise, and the overallatmosphere on Just In Case... are excellent and worth coming back to again and again because each listen brings out something new. samples:
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EPs are a tough sell. Ounce for ounce, this is probably Jonas Munk'sbest release. It combines all of his best skills in four songs whichnaturally play out with a complete indifference to a 4-6 minuteunwritten guideline for album collections of 8-10 songs. At 24 minutes,it's the perfect amount of time to experiment without wearing out yourwelcome. In addition, it's a good breather from the wealth of outputthat's not been the easiest to keep up with. However, priced as high asit is (and as most EPs are), it'll probably be his least heard. On the(not-so-ironically titled) opener "A Familiar Place," Munk hasn'tstepped far from the sounds and styles of his other output: simple butlush, heavily emotional, slightly pitch-bent synth melodies loop intime with a steady pulse and musical electronic percussion. Both hereand on "Wake," angelic female vocals have been added, but the additionis never oppressive nor distracting from the music. On "StealingThrough," and "Horizon," however, Munk takes a step in removingelements, yanking beats out completely and leaving the former as asimple guitar piece with faint echoes and the latter as a stunning 8½minute gem of bright swelling synths that are as blinding and gorgeousas a setting sun. With this, I look forward to hearing the directionManual moves on to but at the same time, I'm patiently satisfied fornow.samples:
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There's something unspeakable wandering the halls of a deserted hotel somewhere in the past and its sound has been captured so that all can know it. Salvaged from dusty records in plain white and brown sleeves, these recordings take a decidedly darker stroll into the halls of forgotten happiness and celebration. The Caretaker has managed to take the deserted and neglected and give them new life by expanding their sound: horns blasting for the satisfaction of dancing men and women are slowed down to funeral marches and the static and hiss of old records become the wind and rain as it toils outside the windows of a shining and elegant ballroom. There's an element of surgery in The Caretaker's approach: that which must've seemed so vibrant and brimming with life is torn open so reveal something betraying that image inside. Everyone had their demons at this party and each of them were quite desperate to hide that little part of themselves; fear had its axe in everyone's back. But there's more going on here than just psychological investigation: The Caretaker strips back a little bit of reality to reveal the void underneath everything.
This explains the reason for all the sounds being so spacious: voices extended into the unintelligible, drums turned into drones and smoke, and strings diminished to hollow wails. The good news is that the fear never becomes too great and the void never feels all-consuming. The sounds and sights to be found on this release can be explored with confidence: whatever it is that is lurking through these distorted and destroyed melodies certainly cannot cause any permanent damage, right? Even this seems uncertain, really. "And The Bands Played On" is a reminder that nothing is for certain and that whatever certainty is assumed is truly dangerous. From start to finish, We'll All Go Riding on a Rainbow is filled with absolutely haunting and unmitigated sound. There are points when it is impossible to tell whether the sounds being heard are really from a lost record or from some lurking and abnormal creature not subject to a name or description.
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Dreams never end. Savage freedom time has begun in avenues all linedwith trees. Times have been strange. Do you hear her enlightenedlaughter? Another reason to cut off an ear? Maybe not. Blixa Bargeldmused upon beauty in the night sky over Berlin, but decided that noarms would ever be able to stretch wide enough to form an adequategesture to capture beauty. Beauty, he decided, remained in theimpossibilities of the body. Rachel's music is a music of such heavenlybeauty they must be tapped into something primal, way deeper than merechord charts and floating tailed black dots on lines. Their logoincludes a crescent moon emblem, recalling a darkness before dawn or asweet scented flower just beginning to bloom. Jason Noble used to playguitar and holler for those monster bird rockers Rodan, who weresacrificed on the alt-rock altar a little too early. Maybe he cut outthe noble heart of the beast and transported it into a rotating chamberensemble in perfect harmony. He was definitely running on the same lineas me at Shellac's All Tomorrow's Parties. Rachel's enchanted and transfixed that weekend, but Systems / Layers is even more gorgeous than that singular performance suggested. Their last album Significant Otherswas a rare bird - the only time I ever saw it was that weekend. They'vetaken some of the minimal play from that and put it into a moreluscious frame, guilded by a theatrical group called SITI. Rachel'spulled an improvising system known as "The Viewpoint" into their orbitand they seem to have caught a glimpse of the music of the spheres.Rachel's discovered a lot, learning new ways of creating andcommunicating. Singer Shannon Wright helped significantly, singing sucha quietly lost yet deeply hopeful song as ever there was. Peel thelayers of an onion and tears run down, but there are no tears as theleaves of a lettuce fall and cover routine systems of dreary urbanlife, and as they rot let roses and chrysanthemums bloom throughcracked concrete. Rachel's transports me to emerald woodland glades ina primitive dream where words are no longer necessary. There is so muchwarmth and compassion in Rachel's music it could burn away all theimpurity in the blackest heart. To describe this music in the way of aregular review would debase it and spoil it's magic. Then the songbecame alive - so glorious! samples:
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What a mess! Pig entrails and mash-ups? Demented children and piracy?Who's going to clean up this sticky filth? Certainly not me! To attemptto review a compilation of forty six tracks from various artists (whoaren't all V/Vm alter-egos) related to and enjoyed by V/Vm over twocompact discs is an exercise in futility. According to the V/Vmwebsite, contributions have come from all over the world, andconsidering the eclecticism displayed by these selections, I'm notsurprised in the slightest. Setting the tone for this absurd andsometimes entertaining collection is the goofy title track, performedby The Krankies, who are purportedly a "sick Scottish comedy duo".Unfortunately, this awkward children's song is a highlight on thisuneven compilation. Somewhat dull rock music bastardizations and blandnoisescapes are served here in heaping portions by several no-name actsprobably better off being unknown. The only tracks here that get myattention and praise are the pop and rap bootleg mixes. Toecutter's"DMX On Tick" takes the gruff rapper's standard shouts and turns theminto a glitchy freakout. Skkatter thrashes the BT-produced 'NSYNC track"Dirty Pop" with potent DSP fuckery. I would be remiss in my duties asa contributor to this fine publication if I did not mention KevinBlechdom's tribute to our fair-skinned editor-in-chief Jon Whitney."Jon Whitney Houston" is a touching, sentimental tribute to the man wecall Mom, a wonderful cover of "I Will Always Love You" sung word forword. All gushing aside, this really is an iffy release from the V/Vmcamp. After their tributes to love, Aphex Twin, and The Shining, Iexpect more from this shapeless collective of mad hatters and supergoons.samples:
- The Krankies - It's Fan-Dabi Dozi
- Skkatter - Dirty Pop
- Toecutter - DMX On Tick
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Dreams never end. Savage freedom time has begun in avenues all linedwith trees. Times have been strange. Do you hear her enlightenedlaughter? Another reason to cut off an ear? Maybe not. Blixa Bargeldmused upon beauty in the night sky over Berlin, but decided that noarms would ever be able to stretch wide enough to form an adequategesture to capture beauty. Beauty, he decided, remained in theimpossibilities of the body. Rachel's music is a music of such heavenlybeauty they must be tapped into something primal, way deeper than merechord charts and floating tailed black dots on lines. Their logoincludes a crescent moon emblem, recalling a darkness before dawn or asweet scented flower just beginning to bloom. Jason Noble used to playguitar and holler for those monster bird rockers Rodan, who weresacrificed on the alt-rock altar a little too early. Maybe he cut outthe noble heart of the beast and transported it into a rotating chamberensemble in perfect harmony. He was definitely running on the same lineas me at Shellac's All Tomorrow's Parties. Rachel's enchanted and transfixed that weekend, but Systems / Layers is even more gorgeous than that singular performance suggested. Their last album Significant Otherswas a rare bird - the only time I ever saw it was that weekend. They'vetaken some of the minimal play from that and put it into a moreluscious frame, guilded by a theatrical group called SITI. Rachel'spulled an improvising system known as "The Viewpoint" into their orbitand they seem to have caught a glimpse of the music of the spheres.Rachel's discovered a lot, learning new ways of creating andcommunicating. Singer Shannon Wright helped significantly, singing sucha quietly lost yet deeply hopeful song as ever there was. Peel thelayers of an onion and tears run down, but there are no tears as theleaves of a lettuce fall and cover routine systems of dreary urbanlife, and as they rot let roses and chrysanthemums bloom throughcracked concrete. Rachel's transports me to emerald woodland glades ina primitive dream where words are no longer necessary. There is so muchwarmth and compassion in Rachel's music it could burn away all theimpurity in the blackest heart. To describe this music in the way of aregular review would debase it and spoil it's magic. Then the songbecame alive - so glorious! samples:
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While over the course of several years many bands long outstay their welcome, delivering formulaic and uninspired recreations of their past successes, there are a few groups whose passing we generally would not look forward to. Considering their restrained release schedule over the past few years, as well as Cosey Fanni Tutti's physical health concerns, hearing that Chris & Cosey will cease to record further albums under that name should come as no surprise.
With C&C Luchtbal, purportedly the band's final album of unreleased material under their most well-known moniker, the artists formerly known as Chris & Cosey leave us with a recording of a 68 minute concert that took place in November of 2002 in Antwerp, Belgium. Though they have chosen to take up the name Carter Tutti to express their musical vision from here on in (making the decision to end Chris & Cosey seem possibly pointless and pompous), this generally mellow release serves as a pleasant soundtrack to their closing chapter. Things begin in a decidedly ambient fashion similar to the solo remix albums the two have released separately in recent years. The first true signs of life come in the mixture of head-nodding beats, swirling synths, and Cosey's soothingly savage voice on "Celph." "Infect Us" recalls everything I've loved out of Chris & Cosey, its sexual tension steaming up my speakers as I daydream of pornographic scenes of strip clubs and orgies. Their music has always catered to my perverse side, and this performance does not disappoint. My excitement truly peaked when the ritualistic flair and 4/4 beats of "Apocalipzo" spilled from my stereo, building me up for the hot white orgasm delivered on "Exotikah." Remarkably true to the original, the classic track retains the duo's passion for the electro and techno sounds they spawned and is a satisfying treat for listeners. While so many electroclash bands try to mimic the sounds of the 80's, loudmouths like Peaches and the girls of W.I.T. could learn a lot from the subtlety offered by these originators and forefathers on this live album. I've certainly learned a lot from them, and I look forward to gaining insight into what their future output has to offer.
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If you haven't heard any of Richard Devine's recorded output up to now, this album is a great place to jump on. Devine has always pushed the envelope of what his tools can do, and with Asect:Dsect we are treated to a version of Devine as mad tinkerer that remains interesting on successive listens the way that some other DSP records do not. Devine's previous outings Lipswitch and Aleamapper visited the extremes of his take on music. The former was a million-mile an hour beat and squiggle fest that was notably absent of a center reference point; a soundtrack for ADD if ever there was one. By contrast, the latter was an exercise in micro-detail exploding out into vast expanses of reverb that demonstrated that there was more to the reigning king of DSP than wonky beats and 128th note programming. With Asect:Dsect, Devine has managed to bring the best elements of those previous records together in a way that is both more accessible and more carefully exploratory at the same time. It's easy to imagine the harsh and often mechanical rhythms that Devine eeks out as simply the music made by machines with Devine at the helm, trying to keep up. But in reality, though his soundscapes and polyrhythms are impossibly inhuman, machines would never make music this confounding. Machines don't take chances, but Devine does and Asect:Dsect is full of imaginative bursts that betray their digital genesis. This is futurism in one of the only ways that it can still be realized in a post-modern world. It's data-rich, full of leaping off points and connecting nodes that take one idea leap over two or three more, and return the listener to the start with a new sense of the territory waiting to be explored. Anyone who has ever clicked through link after link on the web and wound up on a site so arcane that it seems as though it must exist outside the network will understand the kind of journey that Devine is on here. Not every path is a complete success, and in places the experimentation bogs down the beats and synths with a feeling of sensory overload that works against the grain. But most of the time, the songs serve as little soundtracks for synapses firing that even those uninitiated to the world of powerbook rock will understand. There are even moments here that are beautiful, sparse, or understated--three adjecties not usually associated with Devine's brand of electronica. By the album's closer, the tempo has dropped, the melodies have bubbled up to the fore, and the percussion that previously ricocheted as though it were recorded inside a hypercube has settled down to a slow and steady head-nodding groove. Devine's greatest accomplishment with Asect:Dsect is not the volume of plug-ins used or the much-touted 24 bit 96khz production value, but the greater sense of musicality he has brought to game. We are used to classical music that strives to capture a place or time in history through the orchestration of sound, and Devine is working squarely in that tradition. The trick is that he's realized the perfect soundtrack to a time we haven't yet experienced, a futurist fresco of sorts, and diving into that can be confusing to say the least. Everyone should have at least one Richard Devine album to experience the far reaches of sound design at the juncture of human creativity and enabling technology. If you are going to get just one Devine record, make it this one (for now).Read More
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While it collects commissioned pieces from 2003 and 2006 through 2008 (hence the title), all of the various tracks here were created for other works and performances, but are still unified as being crafted by the hand of Carsen Nicolai. While there are a few different approaches used from track to track, never do they feel out of place along-side each other, and both the Alva Noto penchant for abstract composition and almost danceable rhythmic electronics appear here.
 
Opening track "Garment" and "T3 (for Dieter Rams)" both encapsulate the aesthetic of Nicolai’s home label Raster-Noton, beginning with seemingly random electronic fragments that are molded into a tight rhythm as the track plays on.Both feature disparate noise surges and deep, heavy bass pulses with the occasional glitchy click or resonating bell-tone.Both begin with more of a collage sense, the sounds having seemingly little to do with each other.However, the sounds pull together and lock into place, the result is a pseudo-techno work that just demonstrates Nicolai’s ability to clinically sequence the smallest sounds into memorable, almost catchy pieces.
In other pieces, the source isn’t so much a software patch as a piece of organic sound that forms the basis of the work.The two takes of "Argonaut (for Heiner Müller)" are constructed on samples of heavy, bassy strings.In its initial format, it is a slow, additive sequence that slowly brings in mournful digital melodies and soft, white puffs of noise and maintains a sad, bleak quality throughout.The closing "version" take on the piece works from the same recipe, but by including warmer bells and a more complex layering of sound, the piece has a more rejoiceful quality to it, celebrating rather than mourning."Early Winter (for Phill Niblock)" also starts from a sampled string basis (of a Niblock composition), but includes just enough digital elements to give an inhuman quality, and as it continues on it channels a bit of Vangelis’ Blade Runner soundtrack, but composed by the replicants themselves.
The other pieces more inhabit the world of abstract sound collage without a specific organic grounding or traditional rhythmic structure."Stalker (for Andrei Tarkovsky)" brings in the dark tension of the 1979 sci-fi film, meshing heavy bass tones and higher register pieces, all with minor chord stabs to give a bleak feel appropriate for the inspirational material.The short "ANS (for Evgeny Murzin)" is a brief, but live piece based upon the infamous Russian ANS synthesizer that juxtaposes rapidly fluctuating tones with longer, drawn out analog textures.
While the tracks in For 2 may be dedicated and inspired by artists in a variety of disciplines, Nicolai’s devotion to carefully structuring the smallest of sounds into rhythmic passages, as well as the lush exploration of digital and digitally treated sounds unites these pieces into a cohesive whole.Although they have a consistent, unifying feel to them, the tracks are all strong on their own merits, with no sense of filler or padding inserted.Alone or together, Carsten Nicolai’s compositions here shine as exemplary examples of contemporary electronic music.
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Rhythm can lead, but sometimes it’s anything but enlivening. On his new limited-edition edition EP, Jason Urick creates an atmosphere as driving as it is claustrophobic. The four pieces collected are somewhat repetitive, but nonetheless they have a subtle insistency that sticks in the mind long after the record is finished.
Beat making is a relatively new preoccupation in Urick’s run as a solo-artist. Unlike is last album, the excellent Husbands, he keeps his compositions sparse. Despite this, they have an unsettling air, especially the title track, which is downright sinister. It’s built from a short, patios inflected vocal sample intoning the words "fussing and fighting" over and over again. Urick bends and stretches the sample to the accompaniment of sparse reverb drenched drum programming. Bits of disembodied noise wash in and out of the mix in a narcoleptic haze, apt accompaniment to a late night drive through a blighted cityscape.
The rest of the EP still has the same disembodied quality, but without the explicit menace. It’s as if Urick’s sounds were trapped in their own limited scope, trying to escape the tiny range of motion that he gives them. It’s not until the end of the third track, "Sleeping Bag/Lets make it Critical," that Urick displays the kind of technical grandiosity that he is capable of. Drifts of static pile up and through the noise an airy half melody emerges, providing a sparkling coda to an otherwise unremarkable soundscape. It is the only moment on the record where Urick approaches the density that marks his best work, and while this may be a step backwards for him stylistically, it satisfies in a way that the other tracks do not. The rest seem pale and confused. Despite freshening his approach, Urick’s work on Fussing and Fighting lacks the vitality of his previous work.
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After a few releases that have left me cold, I was beginning to lose heart with the many variants of Acid Mothers Temple as they failed to replicate their capabilities as a live band in the studio. This sequel to 2001’s awesome In C album piqued my interest when it was first announced and I am very pleased to report that it represents a return to form for the collective. Despite the titular connection with In C, this album is a completely different kettle of fish; four pieces each blasting off in totally different directions like rockets trying to cover as much of the universe as possible.
 
 
There is a quote attributed to Terry Riley from when he witnessed Acid Mothers Temple performing "In C" at a concert put on in tribute to him and roughly paraphrasing (for I have lost track of the source): "I don’t know what that is they’re playing but it’s not "In C"!" The tone of the quote was not angry or annoyed; Riley seemed genuinely bemused by the interpretation of the piece. With In 0 to ∞, the Acid Mothers Temple completely drop any pretences of performing Riley’s seminal piece and instead surge forward on their own cosmic journey, taking Riley’s influence rather than his instructions on board.
While their previous album which explored Riley’s masterpiece stands as one of Acid Mothers Temple’s defining moments on record, this album does not attempt to capture the same breathtaking approach to hewing blocks of sound as they did on In C. Ironically, despite the range implied by the album’s title, In 0 to ∞ sees Kawabata Makoto and his gang focus their music into a series of laser beams that will travel further in one direction than they have previously journeyed. "In 0" opens the album in typical Acid Mothers Temple style: spacey Hawkwind-esque synthesisers and a slow build up to a pummelling guitar-centric rhythm. It is nothing new as far as Acid Mothers Temple songs go but it is one of the better examples of their music to make it to an album in recent years.
It is with "In A" where things kick off; a thick drone creating a platform for the group to springboard from. The vocals are what make this piece, both Makoto and Tsuyama Atsushi providing amazing chants, throat singing and harmonies. Yet, what makes this special for long-term Acid Mothers Temple fans is the return of Cotton Casino who sounds like her singing is being picked up on intergalactic radio signals from an unknown part of the galaxy. Her haunting voice combined with the static drone is simple but powerful in its execution. Unfortunately it ends too suddenly after a measly 18 minutes, I could happily feast my ears on it for hours.
"In Z" sees the group abandoning anything that sounds remotely musical; what sounds more like an old dial-up modem (but mellower) hiccups and babbles before an odd and slightly annoying guitar loop appears. Over a while, the concrète nature of the piece brings a musicality reminiscent of Luc Ferrari’s Les Arhythmiques; an unlikely rhythmical chaos coming together to make a strangely hypnotic whole. In the final piece, "In ∞," the group return to the free rock jamming they are renowned for. After the two previous pieces, they sound rejuvenated in their assault. A frenetic and explosive saxophone performance care of Atsushi adds an entire new edge to the band’s playing. The piece softens as it goes on before sounding like something The Flaming Lips would do if they could get away with it.
As someone who has been a little disappointed with a sizable portion of Acid Mothers Temple’s studio output over the last couple of years, In 0 to ∞ is a refreshing return to form (or more accurately, has more successfully captured the band’s electric live sound). A more cynical mind might suggest that this is due to Casino’s presence on the album but as she only appears on one track, that argument is dead in the water. Hopefully, this is only the beginning of a new golden age of Acid Mothers Temple albums as it is ample proof that there is plenty of fire left in them.
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