13 April 2003

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Albums and Singles

Armed with insomnia, a handful of members from the Godspeed family, and some egregiously long song titles, Set Fire To Flames oscillate only between dark minimalist music to moderately fleshed out instrumentals. Though Set Fire To Flames does not stimulate the same fiercely glorified feeling as Godspeed, they are able to elicit a more subtle response in some of their songs which has the potential to be no less rewarding. Most of the time, though, this sensation is a little more evasive, and the rewards a little more oblique.

 

Alien8

The ensemble is quiet, and soft-spoken, and forever tinkering with their own sound, like a child who is playing doctor for the first time. "Deja, Comme Des Trous De Vent, Comma Reproduit," the first song is a meandering melody line which repeats over and over with instruments coming in and departing. The line is engaging enough that the repetition is not abrasive. "Holy Throat Hiss Tracts to the Sedative-Hypnotic" features a field recording (not the only one of the album) of a truly mundane story recounted by an older gentlemen; something about a horse and a trampling. Or was it a trampoline? An intense creaking frames the story, sounding either like the creaking of a ocean vessel's guts or some ungodly-built metal structure held together by linchpins of corroded plastic. It's almost as if the old man realizes the banality of his story, for he swings wildly in the other direction and recounts a entirely incredulous tale of fire emanating from some man's eyes. "When Sorrow Shoots Her Darts" is a moody orchestral piece which regains some of the composure from the first songs, but ends too soon. The final song on disc one, "Tehran in Seizure/Telegraphs in Negative," is a marked change in sound, more of an organic noise piece than the others. The other departure in sound is "Buzz of Barn Flies Like Faulty Electronics," which approaches free jazz. The souls of both songs are muted and understated, demonstrating the how you have to listen rather intently to these songs in order to find their elegance, a lesson which instructs the listening for the whole album. In the end, the album does not sound dissimilar from what is actually is: a talented ensemble isolated in the confines of a dark house, making improvisational music while staring at boarded-up windows, blank walls, and a dearth of stimuli straight in the face.

samples:

• Deja
• Your Guts are Like Mine
• This Thing Between Us

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13 April 2003

Administrator

Albums and Singles

For over 20 years, William Bennett's infamous Whitehouse have remained on top of the power electronics game. While countless acts worldwide (particularly in Sweden and the U.S.) cannot seem to make the musical step past "Thank Your Lucky Stars," Whitehouse has evolved into a far more sinister entity with superior production quality.

 

Susan Lawly

 

Trimmed down to founder Bennett and longtime member Philip Best (also known to noise fiends as the brain behind Consumer Electronics), the duo have unleashed a venom-spewing foray into the digital/analog hybrid noise sound initiated on their essential Mummy And Daddy and further explored on the somewhat disappointing Cruise. The album opens with a vengeance on "Why You Never Became A Dancer," a blistering track stuffed with harsh lyrics. Truth be told, the real fun of any Whitehouse album comes from trying to decipher the rage behind their menacing and profane lyrics. As usual, there are some lines that exude their dark humor, as on "Cut Hands Has The Solution," (a song apparently about self-mutilation/cutting) where Best bellows "Are you so much of a slug that you can't live without a fucking sundae?" Here, both Bennett and Best doubleteam the victim, with a barrage of questions and insinuations that almost come across like a perverse Scientology auditing session. Supposedly based on the murder mystery linked to gay British actor Michael Barrymore, "Wriggle Like A Fucking Eel," released months before the album as a 12" single, slings verbal abuse at Stuart Lubbock, a used boytoy who ultimately drowned in the actor's swimming pool—a "chlorine gargoyle." The only contribution from now former member Peter Sotos comes in the form of a tape collage of television news programs on child abduction and prostitution, similar to those on the last two albums. Overall, his exit from the group seems only to have intensified the project's overall mission and sound. Bird Seed is destined for my Top 10 list for 2003. 

samples:

• Why You Never Became A Dancer
• Wriggle Like a Fucking Eel
• Philosophy

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05 April 2003

Administrator

Albums and Singles

It is so frustrating to hear this release when I know that Sam Shalabi can make excellent music. Osama is lacking almost everything that typically makes Shalabi's music so good. It's not that the musicians here aren't talented and it's not that the music isn't well played, the problem is the lack of depth and complete disparity between the songs.

 

Alien8 Recordings

 None of the multiple sudden changes in musical style help to add to the album's enjoyability, they subtract from it because the changes seem so arbitrary. For instance, the opening song "The Wherewithall" begins with an excellent rhythm section and shimmering guitar melody that faultlessly and easily travels across a broad sonic spectrum. Indeed, it begins colorfully and promisingly enough but then suddenly explodes into a heavy metal brawl of screams and grinding guitars that completely ruins the mood that was only just established. Within the next four minutes the song goes from a quiet, meditative movement to a spoken-word dronescape and then back to still more heavy metal. Normally shifts like these are the sort of things that can make an album exciting, but on Osama this just isn't the case. This game of musical chairs pretty much continues for the rest of the album and it only becomes more annoying. Just when Shalabi seems to finally be settling down, he radically changes styles and ruins everything. Just one more note about this album: the title might suggest that an interesting political statement is being made; one that, given current events, would be worth investigating. This really couldn't be further from the truth. Sadly, I'd even venture to say that Shalabi doesn't have a message at all. A song with the name "Mid-East Tour Diary (2002)" might seem promising, but it starts off with the words "Why don't you just suck my big fat semetic cock?." The song only continued to alienate me as it plodded along with its redundant music and similarly aimless lyrics. The album ends as suddenly as it began and I'm left wondering why this was released; I know Shalabi can do better. 

samples:

• The Wherewithall
• Mid-East Tour Diary (2002)
• Shitmobile, U.S.A. (Adam Frank and Sam Shalabi)

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05 April 2003

Michael Patrick Brady

Albums and Singles

Thrill Jockey
Giant Sand frontman Howe Gelb credits this solo project to Howe Home, a somewhat ironic reference to the fact that The Listenerwas largely recorded on a trip to Denmark, an ocean and a continentaway from the southwestern sounds that have defined his work. Despitethe change in cultural climate, and the use of Danish supportingmusicians, Gelb sticks to his formula with middling results. Theinitial attitude of The Listener comes across not so much asrelaxed, but lazy. Like a Thorazine stuffed Leonard Cohen, Gelb spillshis vocals over the music in a lackadaisical, arrhythmic manner. Hefloats above the songs, coming down occasionally to momentarily latchonto the beat before releasing it again. "Jason's List" ventures intoclassic AM Radio territory with a modest horn section that sounds rightout of a Burt Bacharach arrangement. On the first several tracks,smooth jazz bass lines and blue-eyed boss nova rhythms threaten toconjure images of hotel lounge singers and elevator accompaniment. Gelbis strongest when his southwestern roots and inspirations form the meatof his songs. "Torque (Tango de la Tongue)" is a sinuous duet withsinger Henriette Sennenvaldt that evolves around a fantastic Latinrhythm. The vocal interplay between the two is wonderful; their hushed,suggestive tones twist around each other as they dance cheek to cheek.Sennenvaldt's Danish accented English adds a disorienting andunexpectedly exotic touch the track. Her presence is welcome, and seemsto focus Gelb's sleepy delivery. The Latin shuffle continues on theinstrumental "Plango," and while it is nearly as entertaining as theprevious track, it really does not add anything to the formula. "LyingThere" is a cute song that shows a pinch of vitality after the album'shalf awake opening. "You can bungle up your own birthday party / byshowing up one year late / you can foul up playing in traffic / just bytrying to concentrate." It's a sunny track that wins you over with abright acoustic melody. "B 4 U (Do Do Do)" invigorates the album with acountry-fried, searing electric guitar while copping the vocal melodyto "Lean on Me." Everything works on this track, with Gelb soundingbuoyant and the accompaniment as bouncy as hell, like a bar band ontheir third round of drinks. "Blood Orange" sees Gelb once againtrading vocals with a woman, this time Marie Frank. Together they tella sweet, endearing love story that's pleasant enough. The second halfof 'The Listener' vastly outshines the first, landing on the oppositeside of the fine line between easygoing and meandering. In a solidfinale, Gelb closes with "Now I Lay Me Down" and "Lemmy N Emmy," twosongs that sound completely formed and confident. Tasteful strings adda stately poignancy to Gelb's worn guitar lines and dusty voice. 

samples:

• Torque
• B4U
• Now

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05 April 2003

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Albums and Singles

Fueled By Ramen
It's so sad that some emo music has gotten the bad rep that it has, asthe style's beginnings had a lot of promise in bands like Sunny DayReal Estate and Mineral. It was energetic, loud guitar music with"emotive" vocal performance and songs that dealt with humanrelationships mostly. Emo has had its off-spring, from the emo-pop ofJimmy Eat World to the emo-sap (or, for me, emo-suck) of DashboardConfessional, and their sound is now more recognized and prevalent thanthe original. They are also the source of the bad reaction to emo.Every once in a while, though, a band or two come along that are loyalto the original sound without sounding trite, and the Impossibles weresuch a band. Showing off all the components of the original sound, butlacking a bit of focus, they released two full-lengths and 2 EPs beforecalling it quits. Now, two members of that band return as Slow Reader,a great name for a band if I've ever heard one. The sound isdrastically different from their former band, as now they record lushpop laments with electronic flourishes. The core feeling is there,though, and the vocal performance is still emotive while maintaining aninteresting detachment and laziness. "I Like You Most" may sound like ahorrible Chris Carraba song title, but it instead takes more from BenFolds and the Beach Boys with overmixed drums and clear harmony vocals."Stupid Bet" features the best lyrics on the whole release, with softlydelivered vocals and remorse over self-created loss and suffering."Anesthetic for the Amputee" is probably the most raw song on thealbum, with just acoustic guitar and a multitude of voices filling thethe speaker. It's a good start, with its weaknesses intact, but itshows promise. For a traditionally punk or ska label to be releasing itis really a good sign of where both artist and label are heading. 

samples:

• Politics Music and Drugs
• Anesthetic For the Amputee
• So This Is It

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05 April 2003

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Albums and Singles

Fancy
The upright bass gives a resounding and metronomic thump thump thump onthe new Molasses album. This low-octave punctuation generates a gloomyyet suspended feeling: you might grow anxious in the gray fog thatsurrounds these songs, but you simply cannot escape it or shed thegloom. It lumbers methodically after you while your feet are rooted inplace and you have nowhere to go. But the more you are compelled tolisten in place, the more you notice the glistening sounds of the musicwhich come breaking through the gloom. Scott Chernoff's voice isfamiliar and inviting; it has this habit of laying a heavy croon oraccent on the end of verses and lines, while laying off almostdisinterestedly at the beginning of them. It's not unlike rocking upand down on the waves in a unstable rowing boat which could capsizewith the next swell. Again, the feeling is one of inescapableisolation, but this time some Dramamine might help.
Surrounding Chernoff is the requisite (and, at this point, almostcliched) Montreal cooperative of musicians whose memberships in otherbands would be too laborious to enumerate (a sampling of theConstellation and Alien8 labels will give you a representativecross-section). Let it just be known that there is a lush assortment ofpiano, guitars, strings, horns, and organs. "Death March (Erskine'stheme)" lets loose at one point with what rightfully could be called anaural assault of horns, percussion, guitars and banjos. For about twominutes, it sounds as if thirteen New Orleans brass bands weresimultaneously competing on separate street corners of Bourbon Street.My biggest disappointment with Molasses is how similar all the songsare. I enjoy the sound of the first few songs, like "Valley Song" and"Insomnia," and the music along with the lyrics along with thepackaging (we will talk about this shortly) create this lovely gothicenvironment (not gothic in the way you are thinking. I am merelytalking about 18th century spooky houses in rural New England, lit bymoonlight and with wind rustling dead leaves on trees). But soon therepetition of chords, tempos, and vocals give the sensation of beingstuck in a time loop. Listen to one of the song samples and you have afairly good idea how the entire album sounds. The instrumental songscome almost as a relief, for they are the most distinct andexperimental pieces in the two disc set and they remind us we stillgoing forward in time rather than repeating it. Despite the homogenoussound, it is not too much of a chore to listen through two discs sinceMolasses executes a pleasant sound. The packaging of 'A Slow Messe' isbeautifully done without being cumbersome and unwieldy. The dualbooklets feature lyrics as well as Chernoff's photographs, distressedto make them look ancient or unearthed. By the end of listening to thealbum and perusing the inserts, I understood how aptly named the bandis. Chernoff's vocals stretch out with the viscosity of drops ofmolasses, keeping level and understated during the formation of thedrop and rising at the point at which the droplet of molasses gets tooheavy for itself and finally falls away into the dark space below.

samples:

• Valley Song
• Insomnia
• Silkworm

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05 April 2003

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Mute
Whilst the leading cut promoting the very disappointing Plastic Fangisn't much to get excited over unless you're big into the V/Vm Shakin'Green Door massive, the bulldozing Techno Animal remix of "Over andOver" shows just how a slice of mediocrity can be elevated togreatness. I only picked this single up for that remix, which is ashardass siren spurting as the best of their audio assaults and mightjust be the best thing Spencer has done, or had done to him, sincePussy Galore! Barry Adamson's remix of the same track is alsoeffective, if comparatively slinky and sleazy. It doesn't set theemergency flashlights off at quite the same frequency but it gets thefeet moving frantically with its fucked over drum'n'bass distortionmoves, as does the Tremelo Beer Gut mix of "She Said." Who is TremeloBeergut anyway? Only the sugary sheen of the Sub Species "MoneyRock'N'Roll" remix fails to get my blood pumpin'. This is a bland lotof ol' toss that sounds like some kind of misguided bid for Ibitha.Otherwise, this is a creditable salvage operation that pulls surprisingfiery modern machine shapes from an album that seemed like an exercisein terminally bland self parody. If you've ever enjoyed anything fromTechno Animal, Barry Adamson or Jon Spencer then this single shouldn'tbe ignored. So far I just can't be bothered to watch the four videos ofthe Explosion in action tagged on the end, but I guess they probablyoffer value for rock'n'roll money if you have a computer that can dealwith that much shakin' excitement, Steven.
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05 April 2003

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Albums and Singles

Cooking Vinyl
I used to be a big Meat Puppets fan and when I finally got the chanceto see them play live and interview them it was a blast. Curt Kirkwoodwas as hilarious, hallucinatory and obtuse an interviewee as his lyricsmight have suggested he could be and they effortlessly blew thecomparatively lame Soul Asylum right out the door. Nirvana should needeven less introduction. So here are Kirkwood and former Nirvana bassistin a new trio with a drummer from some band called Sublime who I'venever heard of and probably never will bother to. As you might expect,Eyes Adrift are much more like Meat Puppets than Nirvana, after all,Kirkwood was that band's main songwriter. He still splashes togetherdashes of punk rock, country and weird psychedelic acidfire guitarsolos in a way that shouldn't disappoint any old Meat Puppets fans. Infact, the new band seems to have revitalised him and set him lookingfor slightly new angles to throw his illusive songlight on. The albumstarts unobtrusively and builds inexorably. What would be the firstside seems to coast by nicely, but it seems they saved the best songsfor the second half. "Solid" is classic Kirkwood, a huge psyched outlament by a protagonist whose blood has frozen in his veins, perhaps aperverse metaphorical reflection on Meat Puppets and his bassistbrother's drug problems? "Telescope" should have lovers of cute melodictwists and hard chuggin' metal riffage alike grinning from ear to ear,as Kirkwood shows anyone who'll listen how he'll aim his potato gun atthe sun. By the time they run themselves a "Slow Race," where theobject is to lose, there are no fish left in the streams, they've alltaken to the air. Despite some subtle textures imparted by computerediting and recording, there aren't really any huge leaps from MeatPuppets music, but some small progression has been made out of thecreative cul de sac that band seemed to end up in latterly. My biggestsurprise was finding a copy of this CD for the price of half a pint ofbooze in a bargain bin, but the last track is also quite a curveball."Pasted" is an epic meandering voyage that stretches out well overfifteen minutes and glues a vaguely folk rock lyric about old St Paul,which might be sung by Novoselic, onto some of Kirkwood's most ecstaticsundrenched guitar noise ever. You can hear the entire album at the Eyes Adrift site where they also have two new songs up for grabs. The obvious is dead.
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05 April 2003

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Albums and Singles

Morr Music
Belgian Arne Van Petegem is also making an attempt to graduate from theclass of instrumental group of European laptop nerds with his latestEP, a prelude to his forthcoming second full-length album. In the threeyears since his last LP, Arne has been recruited by a number ofmusicians and labels to do remixes, singles and compilation tracks.It's probably through this that he reached two conclusions: #1) it'snot so bad to start including organic sounds like guitar back into themix and #2) my voice isn't so bad that I can't start singing the songsI write! Arne even harmonizes with himself on the title track of thisEP, a blissfull introduction to the more evolved Styrofoam sound. Thepretty melodies and robotic percussion have not been forfeited and thevocals and guitars just add a much nicer dimension on this, a moreradio-frendly version of a track of the forthcoming album. "Fade OutYour Eyes" is a live recording of what sounds pretty much likeStyrofoam remixing himself: letting his vocals and instruments twitterand waiver in a beat-less tapestry of digitally echoing samples whichcould easily go on forever. The disc is rounded out by two charmingtechnologically-enhanced cover tunes: "Hard to Find," originally byCodeine and "Snow Crush Killing Song," originally by Mountain Goats.The full-length I'm What's There to Show That Something's Missingis due out this week, but those lucky enough to catch the Notwist ontour right now can catch both a set by Styrofoam and his place in theNotwist, filling in for Martin Gretschmann, who's off doing stuff withConsole right now. While I still might have reservations when it comesto laptop performers, Styrofoam deserves credit for having a rock clubaudience attentive and interested, something most laptoppers can stillonly fanticize about.

samples:

• A Heart Without a Mind
• Hard to Find
• Snow Crush Killing Song

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05 April 2003

Administrator

Albums and Singles

What's immediately striking about the third album by Michael Gira's Angels of Light is the visual presentation. The six photos—an empty chair, a cluttered desk, a room full of plants, a bookcase loaded with CDs and books, a rosary draped over a thermostat, and, perhaps most tellingly, an empty bedseem to paint a picture of a sufficient but lonely life.

Young God

Coupled with the title, one can't help but construe that Gira is sending out a clarion call to former partner Jarboe. Does he want her back or has he found peace on his own? Further lyrical clues are open to interpretation as Gira's songs often blur the lines between autobiography and fantasy. The opener, "Palisades," inquisitively details a suicide in which "reasons won't come, and no one will regret that you're gone." Gira whoops and hollers most on the climactic "All Souls' Rising," and "Nations," 2001 tour favorites. Conversely, he softly sings "with the rhythm of your breathing, with the rhythm of my thinking," over the tumbling, tender electric guitar notes and strums of "Kosinski." "The Rose of Los Angeles," another paean to Gira's mother, has drastically changed into a stomping romp with a decidedly Irish flavor. The crack of percussion and bluesy guitar disrupt the bleak reminiscences of "What You Were." "Sunset Park" repeats the single enigmatic line "she'll bring some, she brings some, she brings one, she'll bring one" ad nauseam in a swirling wall of sound march. Gira concludes the album with the half droned, half near-whispered, semi-optimistic prayer, "God save us, from what will come." Musically and thematically Everything feels more haphazard than the previous albums, and with none of the tracks exceeding seven minutes, it lacks the epics that made How I Loved You so stellar. Comparisons to the past aside, it's still a fine album. An impressive orchestra of cohorts was once again assembled to add varying degrees of layers to his voice and acoustic guitar, including everything from standard rock band instrumentation to mandolin, accordion, harmonium, flute, trombone, harmonica, banjo, fiddle and even a children's choir. A new version of the band sans drums—Gira (vocals, amplified acoustic guitar), Devendra Banhart (electric guitar), Christoph Hahn (lap steel and electric guitars) and Patrick Fondiller (bass guitar, mandolin, mandola)—is currently on tour in North America through late April with Banhart opening with a solo set.

samples available here

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