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This already mightily praised release by Tex La Homa finally reaches these shores through the Superglider label. Tex La Homa is Matt Shaw with with help on a few tracks by Dave Purse, and the music is guitar driven with electronic and breakbeat flourishes.Superglider
It's essentially electronic pop, with verse-chorus-verse arrangements and pop song subject matter. Pulsing basslines, laidback grooves, and tripping beats are augmented by electronic whirls, buzzes and beeps. Shaw's voice is low and sensual, desperately wanting all the way through the record. The trouble is that it's too static, too laidback, and too, well, formulaic. I can't place my finger on it any other way except to say it doesn't engage you. Tex La Homa strikes me as another band that looks good on paper, sounds okay on record, but can utterly convert you live. Every song has almost the same flavor, every vocal has almost the same treatment, every beat sounds fairly canned, and the subject matter is mostly loss or emptiness or the futility of love only to be let down again. Sadness overpowers it all, and that's part of what makes it so boring. It is well-produced with fine production values, but is just not all that interesting a listen. 'Dazzle Me' sounds like the desperate love letter to a lover who has not only left, but doesn't want anything to do with your life anymore, yet you still try ('and you know how I feel bout you/still you choose to do the things you do/should you have a change of heart/please don't keep me in the dark' is a perfect example). It's admirable, and by Goethe's "Three Questions," it is definitely worth doing. But does that mean I want to listen to it more than once? Nope.
 
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G.M. Wallis is the main force behind the legendary Konstruktivists, a nearly forgotten and often overseen band of the diverse early 80's UK experimental scene. He released several sought-after LPs starting off in 1982, has been a part time member of Whitehouse (around the 'Great White Death' era), collaborated with CTI for the 'Hammer House' EP in 1984 (reissued on 'Collectiv One') and the 1985 album 'Glennascaul' was even produced by Chris Carter.
Konstruktivists reappeared in the beginning of the 90s with a new line-up and techno approach which seemed a bit unfitting on World Serpent at the time. Following releases were spread amongst various small and independent labels all over the world. EE Tapes (once a tape, now a CDR label) from Belgium did a wonderful job on this one. Tasteful artwork accompanies this limited and hand-numbered collection of 14 unpublished and 'lost' tracks recorded between 1982-1999. With only one exception, the bass on "Neukon," G.M. Wallis is the sole artist creating pure electronic soundscapes with his synthesizers.
Half of the tracks are from 1983, a time when Konstruktivists released their probably best known album 'Psykho Genetica' on the long gone Third Mind label, and vary between some of his openly admitted influences: mid-period Kraftwerk, early Tangerine Dream, Neu! and Tuxedomoon ("Joeboy", "Desire" Pts. One & Two). He guides the listener through minimal and sometimes unexpectedly light-hearted synthetic pearls (like "Cologne") with the sovereignty of a man who not only knows his equipment well, but how to use it. Surprisingly only two newer tracks "Pinas R" (1994) and "Gas Mark" (1997) resemble what is commonly referred to as 'Old School Industrial' with distortions, feedback and a more aggressive attitude. The final and most current track, "Russia" is a beautiful outro: melancholy and nostalgia captured with just a few piano and string sounds. The sound quality sometimes lacks a bit of the high gloss finish of the current sounds, but this album works well as a reminder where electronic music took off and shows a substance which is timeless.
 
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With the recent and often tongue-in-cheek assimilation of hip hop into the word of laptop electonica, it's about time someone with a Powerbook actually stepped up and rocked it. The trick with Dälek is that it's not the Powerbook that's on display, and Dälek isn't coming to hip-hop by way of smash-ups and mallrat b-boyism. Hip hop began as a uniquely urban expression, and as its reach has expanded into suburban territory in many ways, it has lost its connection to the grit, bustle, and sheer commotion of the city. 'From Filthy Tongue of Gods and Griots' brings the sound of the city back, and pays homage to hip hop's heritage by being embarrasingly honest. If DMX is is from the streets, then Dälek is unashamedly from the gutters. Beats and atmospheres sound dredged in dirt, and Dälek's straightforward delivery of lyrics about broken glass and third rails evokes startlingly real images of urban decay. Dälek fuses equal parts Public Enemy, My Bloody Valentine, and godspeed you black emperor! into a chaotic stew of squalor, anger, and sometimes hope that brings back the urgency of rap's early days. At the center of the album is a 12 minute epic of drones, feedback and noise that could be the end of a Mogwai meets Godflesh guitar noise session, but stays rooted to hip hop as Dälek flows over empty space to the rhythms ingrained in his head. Where The Veldt were shoegazers adding hip hop as an element to set them apart from their associates in the Cocteaus and the Jesus and Mary Chains of the world, Dälek are a hip hop trio who appropriate the expressive power of guitars, found sounds, and sheer noise to paint their urban murals. Make no mistake, this is not an IDM release, or an experimental noise album using hip hop flavor as a thematic mode—this is a hip hop record, and the one we've all been waiting for.
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Forced to change their name from Atomsmasher, the vibrant trio of JamesPlotkin, Speedranch and David White barrel through nine multi-dementialsongs on their second full-length album together like a super-chargedlightning-intense hail storm, ready and willing to make dentseverywhere in its path. Fiesty and fiery, with guitars surprisinglybare of effects, the glitch-thrash sound is still considerably loud andabrasive as on the debut. This time around, however, there are a numberof more conjunct ideas and compositional themes. Plotkin's guitarmelodies, for example, carry through numerous sullen moments hammockedbetween inhuman sonic assaults. The electronically sliced-and-diceddrum solos and squelched vocals once again are never dull andpredictable nor artfully heady. Unfortunately, rock purists willundoubtedly find their sound too digital while laptop lovers will findit too rock, but if you can step away from the process and listen tothe product for a moment, it's damned enjoyable.
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Both the Greek inventor Daedalus and this Southern Californian share similar fates: they came up with something great that went tragically awry. This debut Plug Research full-lengther opens with a strong prelude: a simple, yet elegant combination of samples and original melodies, swirled together in a serene lullaby.Plug Research
The choices Daedelus makes to integrate into his mix strays from the typical pack of obscure jazz and folk records, stumbling into big-band-era film theme music, with swinging drums on top of easy listening orchestral samples. Even toy xylophone gets filtered in on tunes like the stunning "Adventress." By the time of the narrated story of "Astroboy," the album's development becomes seemingly clear as a sample-strong children's record for the 21st century. But then it takes a confusing turn for the worse and becomes overtaken by hyperactive electronic beats and painfully dull melodies. Mediocre sax, flute and clarinet playing takes over and the serenity is almost completely lost. Despite the (de-)evolution, the music still sounds decent; however, I feel like a kid lost at the amusement park wanting simply to go home. He could have easily stopped at the elements of delicacy before jumping into musically unchallenging post-drum 'n' bass of songs like "Soulful of Child" or the intellectually insulting and sonically out-of-place rap on the disc's two closing tracks. Daedelus isn't the inventor yet, he's still a child, and a bright one indeed with loads of talent, but I'm sure once he decides what he wants to do when he grows up, the output will be marvellous.
 
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The debut release from Matt Hayden as Mindless Drug Hoover is a strangerelease from the more electronically-minded Deviant Records. Makingcomedy albums is a dangerous business, but Hayden's years of buskingmust have given him time to perfect these comic masterpieces. 'TopBanana' is a one-man-and-his-guitar affair, but the music is just thedelivery mechanism for his tales of smoking grass, being poor and evena love song (addressed to dried fruit on the glorious "Prune": "prune,oh prune/ you're a beautiful fruit, not just a laxative.."). Despite the fact he recorded it all over one weekend (probably in the bathroom of some English pub), he's actually pretty crafty when it comes to making a catchy hum-along tune. You know what to expect with song titles like "Pancreas," "Fag stealer," and the subtle "Fuck off." With over 20 tracks in 40 minutes, the novelties never overstay their welcome. The tracks are cheap and shambolic— and genuinely hilarious. Also included is a jazzified remix of the "The Reefer Song," by The Orb.
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Who else but Barry Adamson to bring blaxploitation soundtracks into the 21st Century? As with the previous album, 1998's 'As above, So below', these songs are predominantly vocal based, albeit steeped in familiar film noir trappings. For in Mr. Adamson's Murky World, Cinema is King. His fictional frames are backed with a deftly orchestrated mixture of genres, including samples of badass brethren like Ike Turner, Cypress Hill and John Coltrane. Concerning the fiery, fun funk of opener "Cinematic Soul," Adamson proudly declares, "this is the stone groove I've been dying to rock with all my life." Indeed! Even his enthusiastic young son can't resist joining in 'cause, after all, "what is a song if you can't sing along?" "Whispering Streets" follows suit with more dramatic funkiness as Adamson unconvincingly pleads, "I don't even know how the gun got in my hand." In the dreamy, strings soaked '70s soul styling of "Black Amour," he becomes the slicker than Shaft character "Satisfaction Jackson." SJ confesses, "I want you, I need you, I love you," nicely enough, but then adamantly insists, "hold my freaky hand." "Twisted Smile" is low and slow, hazy and lazy as the, "everyone is everyone," line loops in epilogue. Of the three (essentially) instrumentals, "Le Matin Des Noire," (Archie Shepp) is my fave. For over ten minutes an organ-flecked vibes groove vamps into the background as the hustle and bustle of Parisian streets becomes the foreground. "That Fool Was Me" sees Adamson diversifying his discography even further as horns and harmonica add Dixieland dynamics. Sweetly singing, "something about you baby and they all agree," Adamson then admits "only a fool would leave you and that fool was me". For the climax of the duet finale, "Cold Comfort," an inquisitive refrain of, "sugar babe?" is overpowered by mighty drum rolls and orchestral curtain call. Damn. Damn! Just another highly cinematic masterpiece, no sweat. Barry Adamson, the coolest motherfucker on the planet? Probably. 'The King of Nothing Hill' my album of the year? Probably. Check barryadamson.com for forthcoming European tour dates and other goodies.
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It was inevitable that the children who grew up with Barney the Purple Dinosaur and Power Rangers would eventually start listening to music. This is the only explainable reason why flocks of kids love this group while a number of critics poo-poo them. I'm not saying these kids don't have taste, but maybe they just don't know that music like this has been done far better for years and years. Take the vocals of Frank Tovey and Richard Butler, add a dash of Ride, mix well with the Smiths pretending to be any generic Factory label B-list band and hire any old 1980s producer who's not done much in a while (but will get the critics scatching their chins) and voila, a debut album is ready for a press campaign! While Gareth Jones's take on the group's recordings clearly sound miles ahead of their first EPs and mediocre live performances, even the most talented producer is completely unable to accommodate for atrocious vocals and downright painful lyrics. There are moments of reflection, like on the heavily reverb-effected "NYC" or the up-close and intimate "The New" but most of it is brainless jangly guitar-based minor key dance music like songs like "Obstacle 1" or Joy Division riff-ripoffs like "Roland." To their credit, the group does play well together, despite having numerous moments of one-note playing, but even they will eventually get bored of that.
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Some of Palestine's gorgeous drones are now transferred to CD and remastered by Lee Ranaldo and Thomas Koner for the Netherlands-based Barooni label. The two have done a great job too: the sound is crystal clear. This opens with 20 minutes of near static drones and tones in "Two-Fifths".
 
It's so stripped bare that for a while it seems like he's just made a steady electronic pulse, but after a few minutes of saturation, waves and other half-heard fragments start appearing. He uses the piano to create a similar saturation effect on the next two, "One+Two+Three Fifths" and "Sliding Fifths," which relentlessly pound out a mass of sound. His insane ability to play about four rhythms at once keeps the music from ever drifting into the background. After the 40+ minutes of superb piano punishing, the closing electronic drone of "Three Fifths" is a little too empty and sparse to hold my attention. Most of the music here is so stripped down that it's hardly there at all, but there's a lot of strange things going on under the surface.
 
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Finally Eric Bachmann releases an album under his own name. The former singer of Archers of Loaf and current mastermind behind Crooked Fingers composed "Short Careers," as the score for a finished, yet to be released, independent feature called "Ball of Wax." The film has a frightening, chilling story, and it seems Bachmann has set the mood just right. The music fits right in between Bachmann's arty leanings with his Barry Black recordings and the more somber balladry of Crooked Fingers. Violin, cello, upright bass, piano, and guitar intermingle playfully throughout, despite the ominous tones of the revealing track titles ("Aspirin vs Arsenic," "Nosebleed," "The Mysterious Death of Robert Tower"). Bachmann's music never really seemed all that cinematic, though his lyrics have always told stories that are longer than life, so it deems him a rather odd choice for film scoring, particularly since that means there will be little in the vocal department. Add to that the fact that the movie is about major league baseball, and it sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Luckily, the film was completed when Bachmann composed and recorded the score, so he had great freedom and inspiration—more than some composers get. The music is quirky enough while still serving a purpose, though not as much when heard on its own. It will probably have more meaning after the listener views the film, but on its own only a few tracks are truly stand-alone works ("Vision and Execution," "Ty Cobb," "Good Morning Sleepyhead"). This album is proof positive, however, that the former leader of a popular indie college rock band can score movies, and I'm sure he'll get more work for it in the future.
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Take this album's title as a hint of what to expect. While watching a meteor shower and listening to music, the most exciting thing will, of course, be the meteor shower itself. Tara Jane and Dan are probably two of my favorite current singer/songwriters in the North American rock scene. I've seen both live on a number of occasions with their bands, Ida and Retsin, and once, just recently, in which each did fantastic solo performances. (Dan played on a number of instruments including a couple on harmonium and Tara Jane even did a Bruce Springsteen cover!) Needless to say, when I learned of the impending collaborative release, I was very excited. However, the two people whose voices and lyrics I cherish have ironically recorded an album of almost entirely instrumental songs— songs which disappointingly enough sound like they were explicitly built for vocals. With the exception of "Ooh la la..." (with French [?] vocals), there's a general void of any strong lead instrument. It almost makes me want to organize a letter-writing campaign for the duo to go back and record some lyrics on this record. This soundtrack for getting a midnight snack could easily bore the most sexually inactive vegan cafe patrons. Don't get me wrong, there's no love lost for these two, as they're each still incredible musicians and songwriters. However, if it's their signature sound that you've fallen in love with that you're anticipating, you'd be better off saving your money on this one.
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