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Up next for Mush Records is a curve ball for the label and the artist providing the release that begs the question in my mind: "did Mush know ahead of time that the new Neotropic record would be a radical stylistic departure?" Neotropic's Riz Maslen is responsible for some of the best and most overlooked electronica releases of the last decade on labels like NTone and Bip-Hop, and she's ever flirted with the intersection of the acoustic and synthetic in a way that gives her records depth and repeated playability. Still, I've been an off-and-on fan, loving 15 Levels of Magnification, being a little less enthused about Mr. Brubaker's Strawberry Alarm Clock but then being reeled back in for the beautiful ambience and found sound of La Prochaine Fois. I naturally expected that a Neotropic release on Mush, the current US equivalent to the once-dominant Ninja Tune would be an exquisite slice of mellow beats and organic electronica. How wrong I was! I experienced the new record first in a live setting, which was entirely unsettling as Maslen was joined onstage by a full band playing a kind of psychadelic jam-bandy sort of trip-rock. It was groovy and fun, but not at all what I or anyone really expected in the midst of the Mush show, and from an artist best known for her subtle digital work. As it turns out, the record is a much richer and more layered document of the kind of pastoral psych-folk that Neotropic was playing out live. The album is full of highly produced instrumentation, drums filtered and massaged through the machines that Maslen commands, and is every bit the live and organic experience that the concert provided, but with the added depth of careful studio work to give everything more character. There are subtle bubbling synths, location recordings and acoustic guitar all serving to back the playful, free-floating singing and humming that characterizes parts of the record. I never expected to hear harmonica solos on a Neotropic record, and yet it works with a kind of funky ease that is vaguely spiritual, certainly trippy, and just far enough left of center to keep it interesting. The album ends with a quiet track of noodling, then a large space of silence followed by a hidden track of space rock that would almost make fans of desert music proud. The guitars are fuzzed out and sitting high in the mix, with a groovy backbeat and swarms of acid-washed noise and digital artifacts as accompaniment. It's not the way I would have imagined the new Neotropic winding down, but it's a momentary diversion and release and it works despite the context. Read More
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The fact that there are disproportionately few female artists making hard electronic (or any electronic) music is both a blessing and a curse for Rachel Kozak, aka Hecate. She gets to stand alone in a room full of boys on most occassions as the only woman ready to rip up the decks and bring the noise, but I have a feeling that too often her work is judged on a different scale or with different rules because she is such an anomaly. To be fair, Hecate plays directly into the interest in her feminity by referencing cruel and powerful women in her work, and by sampling what sound like evil witches who fly out from the speakers at 180 degrees from dark music's normal horror samples of women screaming at their own impending doom. In fact, the "I WILL kiss your mouth" sample in "Nest of Vipers" is downright chilling, and a bit like listening to a role-reversed rapist threatening her victim. It's this kind of play on gender roles and worship of the power of women in the occult that gives Seven Veils of Silence its unnerving power. As the album rolls on, it begins to feel like a horrific and sadistic feminist manifesto played out with exotic middle eastern and Indian loops and spastic distorted beat programming. Hecate dials down the danceability for Seven Veils in favor of atmospherics and the frantic, nervous rhythms of ritual. The beats sound more like the pounding drums of blood rites than the breakbeats of her previous work, and while there's still a firm root in the world of manipulated and cut-up breakbeat music, the goal here is surely miles away from the dancefloor. Ambient interlude tracks combine monsterous growling and the squall of back-masked demons set to throbbing bass synths, but serve only as moody segues to the tunes where Hecate does her real damage. This kind of focus on bleak soundscapes, anguished samples, and tortured drum beats isn't going to be for everyone, and repeated listenings have burnt the images of scorpion nests and poisons and black angels in my mind enough that I won't be seeking out similar material for a while. However, this is an accomplished and well-rounded disc that makes a perfect Halloween soundtrack to scare the kiddies, and a good album for those times when you feel like exploring your evil, seductive, corrupted, and ultimately powerful feminine sideRead More
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From out of nowhere, the Polish label Vivo has released the newest Scorn record, a live set recorded for the radio and presented here as one long track. Those looking for an introductory Scorn record or something with some new Scorn tunes that you can be added to an mp3 player playlist will probably not find it here. I was initially taken aback by the format, as discs that are comprised of a single, enormous track are usually hard to listen to repeatedly. They take a certain amount of dedication. However, having just seen a Scorn live set in Berlin, I can honestly say that List of Takers is an indespensible document of how the project works live. The live version of Scorn doesn't include strictly definied songs, starts and stops. It flows from the drones and spooky detuned pianos into the head nodding beats and immense bass that are Mick Harris' signature. For stiff, electronic beat music, it's actually quite organic live as Harris performs a live dub mix with effects and knob-twiddling that gives the sounds life and depth and movement not always found on the static albums. Since the sound set is fairly basic—distorted bass warps, atonal electro-acoustic drones, heavy electro drumbeats and the occassional piano riff—it's easy to think of List of Takers as an extended jam on a theme that manages to stay rough, compelling, and unflinching for 70 minutes. That's where this album in fact wins me over: it's a completely uncompromising document from an artist who has a body of work that's so influential at this point that he needs answer to no one. There are identifiable songs here, but none are listed or named individually, and none stand out but serve to make up the extended whole. The tempo slowly creeps up across the disc to ramp up the tension so that by the end the groove is less of a friendly bump and more of a diabolical grinding, but the record never loses the ability to make heads bob and hips sway. List of Takers is at times a challenge to the listener to keep up, but the rewards for zoning out and getting lost in the throb are worth it. Read More
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I find it odd that this collection is named Anthology,even though it consists of previously unreleased tracks. The onlytracks on this disc that were previously released surfaced onlong-deleted cassettes issued on obscure European labels. To me, theterm "anthology" denotes a representative collection documenting anartist's career, drawn from works previously available. I am perplexedat the claim that this collection of outtakes, live tracks and othermarginalia might constitute a proper documentation of the artist'scareer. Not nearly as perplexed, though, as when I attempt to ponderwho could possibly be interested enough in Vidna Obmana's music to havekept this artist afloat for the past two decades. Mr. Obmana ascribesto that common viewpoint that the term "ambient" must be synonymouswith "boring," creating album after unremarkable album filled to thebrim with dull New Age keyboards, drones and loops, with the occasionalforay into insulting ethnic plagiarism. This collection was recentlyreleased on the eternally lame Projekt, whose only standards fordeciding what their label will release appears to be directly dependanton how utterly, excruciatingly dull the music is. The tracks on thisanthology run the gamut from a mildly uninteresting retread ofThrobbing Gristle ("Ecstasy") to a violently uninteresting rip-off ofCoil ("Soul Dislocation"). In between is lots of fodder for NPR's Hearts of Space,Vidna Obmana thoughtfully providing crossfaded transitions from eachtrack to the next, so that the whole 72 minutes feels like one long,homogenized puddle of rancid fairy spooge. This music might work quitewell as a soundtrack for your local coven's next drawing down of themoon ceremony, or it might be perfect muzak for the waiting room ofyour local aura-reading and colonics center, but it fails in everyother sense. It blunts and smooths the edges off any sound that mightjar the listener out of sleepy complacence, leaving only anundifferentiated, quivering mass of odorless, flavorless gelatin in itswake. Suspended inside the unappetizing Jell-O mold are inedible chunksof musical ideas that might have been interesting had they not beentrapped inside this mess.Read More
It's important to pace a record properly so that it doesn't becomestiff and monotonous. Peter Maybury begins his twenty-three minuteopener with a steady, meandering, and almost viscous series of soundsall seperated from eachother and mostly melodic. The charm of the pianoplaying and the babbling computer-speak all hint that this is going tobe a slow ride through electronic composition; everything will dependon how well the sounds are arranged in relation to eachother. Not muchhappens though and the sounds don't interact with eachother in anyinteresting manner. There are moments of unattenuated beauty, but thealbum simply never changes. To make matters worse, I tend to think thatopen-ended albums like this need some kind of unique palette, somethingakin to a unique signature. Many of the songs on these five songs soundfar too familiar, as though they've become parts of an electronic bankavailable to everyone who has a computer and a desire to move varioussamples around eachother. After about ten minutes of listening to"Rain" a second time, I was feeling quite anxious to move on. Thefour-part "A Leaf Spiral" doesn't provide anything in the way ofrelief, though. They're very much a "more of the same" series of songsand don't manage to make anything sound or feel any more exciting. Ilove lush soundscapes and I enjoy relaxing to very minimal-type music,but this just doesn't cut it. The sounds that were picked forutilization are lame at times and there's no emotional or visualcontent. In some ways the rather dull album art says everythig thatneeds to be said about this album.
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It's important to pace a record properly so that it doesn't becomestiff and monotonous. Peter Maybury begins his twenty-three minuteopener with a steady, meandering, and almost viscous series of soundsall seperated from eachother and mostly melodic. The charm of the pianoplaying and the babbling computer-speak all hint that this is going tobe a slow ride through electronic composition; everything will dependon how well the sounds are arranged in relation to eachother. Not muchhappens though and the sounds don't interact with eachother in anyinteresting manner. There are moments of unattenuated beauty, but thealbum simply never changes. To make matters worse, I tend to think thatopen-ended albums like this need some kind of unique palette, somethingakin to a unique signature. Many of the songs on these five songs soundfar too familiar, as though they've become parts of an electronic bankavailable to everyone who has a computer and a desire to move varioussamples around eachother. After about ten minutes of listening to"Rain" a second time, I was feeling quite anxious to move on. Thefour-part "A Leaf Spiral" doesn't provide anything in the way ofrelief, though. They're very much a "more of the same" series of songsand don't manage to make anything sound or feel any more exciting. Ilove lush soundscapes and I enjoy relaxing to very minimal-type music,but this just doesn't cut it. The sounds that were picked forutilization are lame at times and there's no emotional or visualcontent. In some ways the rather dull album art says everythig thatneeds to be said about this album. Read More
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You Hold the World Like a Gun is Texan Greg Reynaud's selfdescribed "actualization of maximum potential." Loosely translated,that means it's the results of his first solo foray into the studioafter doing beats as a part of electropop outfit Lovetron and spaceyboombap minstrels The Town Drunks. So, now that his potential isactualized—and Reynaud has already proven he does indeed hold promisingpotential as a producer—he presents a dense, mysterious five track,nineteen-minute EP that thumps and pounds its way from track to track,occasionally pausing to reflect but nevertheless holding a boot to yourthroat and not letting go until it's done. Among the slick break beatsand crashing hi hats Reynaud flawlessly slips in the obligatoryotherwise-out-of-place sample, whether it be a few guitar chords, apiano key, a jazz break or even a Darth Vader inhale/exhale.Ostensibly, the EP is a concept album concerning the current Americanpolitical situation, a fact that isn't necessarily clear with a listenand not much clearer when perusing the liner notes. Still, what is aknown known (thank you, Department of Defense) is that Reynaud knowswhat he's doing, and perhaps there is some truth to that whole"actualization of potential" line. Released from the bounds that comewith working with other musicians, Reynaud is able to let hismultitalented production skills roam free, with compelling results.Most impressive, however, is his ability to tread the thin line betweenimprovisation and complete anarchy. His music wanders, but neveraimlessly. He is able to make out of what might be an unrecognizablemishmash with another producer into a thrilling blend of surprisinglyorchestrated adrenaline-laced sound.Read More
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After several years as a member of the Chicago UndergroundDuo/Trio/Quartet/Orchestra, along with several recordings as acompetent and inventive sideman, drummer Chad Taylor has penned andrecorded a disc's worth of tunes under the name Active Ingredients. Attimes a sextet featuring Underground partner Rob Mazurek on cornet andSteve Swell (William Parker/Baron Down) on trombone, it's easy to viewTitrationas a free jazz recording due to the lack of any chordal instrumentsoutlining progressions and form. As a leader, Taylor's unique,polyrhythmic drive and fluid performance are central, although this isnot your stereotypical drummer record. His approach and outputon the kit is dynamic and very musical, which is not surprising as he'dbeen a classical guitarist in his youth; the same musical sensibilitycomes through in his compositions. "Song For Dyani" opens withblistering latin rhythms and busy, staccato upright bass laying thefoundation for unison horns to state the sweet and slurring melodybefore breaking off for both individual and simultaneous soloing. Thelightning fast cross stick and tom fills kicking off "Slate" areaugmented by percussionist Avreeayl Ra's fills to convey a true Africanensemble feel for saxophone shrills and trills play off. Bassist TomAbbs' melodic lines set things in motion off the top of "ModernMythology" which in turn supports a brief big band ensemble motifbefore stripping down for sax soloing an unison crazy-go-nutsexplorations. Taylor's use of bare hands, mallets and sticks on hissolo performance "Dependent Origination" convey several different tonesand textures. Having spent a great deal of time listening to him onseveral recordings and seeing him in performance on several occasions,it's safe to say that although spontaneity figures heavily in such asituation, his ability to convey melodic ideas and structure isuncanny. The group assembled on Titration are all competentmusicians and soloists that give strong direction to Taylor's sometimesminimal motifs. The excitement generated in performance for thisrecording has them coloring outside the lines with a free jazzapproach, but without going completely off the page into cacophony.Read More
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If I was making a compilation to introduce a friend to the work of Killing Joke, it's track listing would overlap with that of For Beginners by only three tracks, "Fun & Games", "The Wait" and "Night Time". Never before have I encountered such a willfully obscure selection masquerading as a perfect entry point to a band's back catalog.Caroline
Although compilers were possibly trying to avoid including tracks that appeared on the 1992 compilation Laugh? I Nearly Bought One!, which collected the band's UK singles, they could have used a title that better reflected the material included. The classic debut album, 1980's Killing Joke is represented by "Primitive" and "The Wait". I have a suspicion that the latter opens this collection due to the fact that it was covered by Metallica. While it is certainly a track worthy of inclusion, and one of the best on the 16 track compilation, Killing Joke does not need to use the Metallica reference as a way to gain new fans. By including stronger material, such as "Requiem", "Wardance", or "Complication" this early period would have been better represented. Had they included the excellent "Change", a UK single from 1980 (which was also included on the US version of Killing Joke), they could have drawn parallels with the "dance/punk" revival that is a current trend. What's THIS For...!, the band's 1981 second LP, is represented by a live version of "The Fall of Because" and "Butcher", a second-rate album track as compared with "Unspeakable" and "Follow the Leaders", also from that LP. It is baffling why no tracks from 1982's amazing live 10" "Ha" Killing Joke Live were chosen. That set was my introduction to the band in the late 1980's, and from the opening blast of "Pssyche" through to the end of the driving "Wardance" those six tracks of Killing Joke at their most energetic are still some of my favorites. The middle period of 1983-1985 is given better treatment here, with the inclusion of "Fun and Games", one of the best tracks on 1983's Fire Dances and the title track from 1985's Night Time. The reason why the same album's "Eighties", "Love Like Blood" and "Kings and Queens" are nowhere to be found is a mystery. The latter two tracks were each originally issued in the UK on two different 12" singles. It is hard to understand why tracks on which so much importance was placed do not qualify as recommended listening "for beginners". The compilation ends with two tracks each from 1986's Brighter than a Thousand Suns and 1988's Outside the Gate. The former was a mediocre version of past glories, and the latter, intended as a Jaz Coleman solo album, was only released under the Killing Joke name to fulfill contractual obligations. Skipping the inclusion of tracks from these two albums would have made room for some of the singles to be included. While For Beginners does introduce listeners to the band's sound, it does not include many examples of their best songwriting. I can only imagine what they might include on a compilation for "advanced listeners" (excerpts from The Courtauld Talks anyone?)
samples:
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This was originally released in 1982 on the L'Invitation au Suicide label as two 10" singles packaged together in a box which also contained several booklets illustrating the perverse marriage of aesthetics, insanity and filth which characterized the Virgin Prunes at this artistic phase. Mute's reissue does a flawless job of presenting the music, which is digitally restored and remastered, both parts presented together on a single disc. However, they have chosen not to reprint the art booklets originally included with the set, which is unfortunate for a band as visually oriented as the Prunes.
With or without the visual context, Heresie is probably the least essential disc in Mute's reissue series, but is not without its share of interesting moments. Part one consists of seven studio tracks, most brief sketches, only three which could be described as songs. The emphasis is very much on the aesthetics of insanity, the band utilizing strategies of French playwright/madman Antonin Artaud. It was Artaud who created the concept of the Theater of Cruelty, in which actors hurl words at the audience, deliberately altering and twisting their voices to ratchet up the visceral intensity of the confrontational dialogue. Throughout this too-brief recording, Gavin and Guggi regress into infancy, uttering childlike phrases like idiot man-children, suddenly lapsing into inarticulate mumbling, or raising their voices to bone-chilling shrieks and stomach-churning growls. The record is framed by a pair of spoken-work sketches about someone named "Deirdre," whom the lunatic Prunes very much want to play with, it seems. "Rhetoric" is the centerpiece of part one, a seven-minute noise-rock maelstrom that bears an unmistakable resemblance to Looney Runes-era Current 93. Lupine howls and eardrum-piercing shrieks are pulled through an echo chamber as metronomic industrial rhythms and crunching noise guitar chug relentlessly forward. Just to enforce the pure insanity of it all, "Down the Memory Lane" follows closely on its heels, a wickedly brutal satire of Irish pub sing-a-longs, with the whole band adopting nasally voices for an inebriated paean to the "good ole days." Seeing as this is the only time the Prunes explicitly acknowledged their Irish heritage, it seems pretty clear they had nothing but contempt for everything that lay outside their Lypton Village bubble. Part two of Heresie is a live recording from a 1982 performance in Paris, a set of Prunes songs drawn from A New Form of Beauty and ...If I Die, I Die. Classic tracks like "Pagan Lovesong" and "Walls of Jericho" are given appropriately maniacal live renditions, the band falling all over one another in gales of perverse glee. It's less essential than the others, perhaps, but no less entertaining.
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On their debut album, John Tejada and Takeshi Nishimoto displayed aclever grasp of electronic-tinged instrumental music, virtuoso-style,with tasty guitar and bass flourishes layered over real drums andwhatever the laptop pushed out as the master controlled it. They'vecontinued their regular regimen of playing and recording together onWednesdays, no matter what their schedules had in store, and the fruitsof that labor, their second record, receives its title from the veryprocess that produced it. With these songs, it seems thelaptop-produced elements have become more of a basis for the songs,rather than skeletal remains that were thrown in for flavor. Theopening track, "Walk Through Walls," starts with a manipulated andglitched sample that provides a basic beat, then "real" instrumentstake it over, guitar/bass/drums in full lock-on mode with gorgeoussolo-like flourishes. Every once in a while that sample or anotherreturns, just as a reminder that it was the catalyst, but it's mostlybusiness as usual. The two pile on the processed guitars, variousguitar tracks, and the slapped bass, add some delay and echo effects,and stride comfortably towards the finish line, knowing full wellthey're ahead. "Every Moment is Ours" begins much in the same regard,with computer magic and deep bass followed by gentle guitar, thenhypnotizing bass chords and that familiar guitar tone join the fun.Halfway through, live drums kick in briefly, only to relent to theirmore processed brethren. Ultimately, the process is slightly differenton this record, but the music is very much the same, which is to sayclearly produced and recorded and excellently played. The songwritingis a bit limited to the aforementioned format, however, and though thechill-out lounge style form bursts into jazz-like improvisations, thebasic structure is very much consistent with most songs, as is the toneand presentation. That's the only complaint, however, and it's not muchof one, as the songs are still pleasant enough to listen to. It wouldjust help to hear a bit more variety in this art, and not have to waituntil the next day in the week to get it.Read More
