This week's series of episodes features images from Asheville, NC, which was devastated by Hurricane Helene this past week.
Please consider donating to the various organizations in and around the area.
Episode 714 features music by Pan•American, Maria Somerville, Patrick Cowley, The Gaslamp Killer and Jason Wool, Der Stil, Astrid Sonne, Reymour, Carlos Haayen Y Su Piano Candeloso, Harry Beckett, Tarwater, Mermaid Chunky, and Three Quarter Skies.
Episode 715 has Liquid Liquid, Kim Deal, Severed Heads, Los Agentes Secretos, mHz, Troller, Mark Templeton, Onkonomiyaki Labs, Deadly Headley, Windy and Carl, Sunroof, and claire rousay.
Episode 716 includes Actors, MJ Guider, The Advisory Circle, The Bug, Alessandro Cortini, The Legendary Pink Dots, Chihei Hatakeyama and Shun Ishiwaka, Arborra, Ceremony, Ueno Takashi, Organi, and Saagara.
In what has become a yearly tradition, Wolf Eyes member and meme master John Olson again hooks up with Upstate NY's Eric Hardiman and Jeff Case to deliver two more discs of psy jazz/free improv/whatever sessions from Case's basement studios. The progression throughout these latest two installments of the March of the Mutilated series is indicative of a clear trajectory, with the trio keeping some things constant, but also a significant amount of change, evolution, and hints at what may be to come during the holiday season of 2018.
Volume 2, recorded at the same time as the first in 2016, consists of two lengthy workouts that fit most clearly in line with the first edition I previously reviewed.The jazz vibe is once again strong here, with Hardiman and Olson locking horns right at first, though in a calm, laid back sort of way.Some tremolo heavy sounds pop up in the background to flesh out the mix a bit, helping to blend the hushed moments with some heavier outbursts.All the while Case keeps the flow going with admirable restraint, adding just enough to make his presence known but letting the sax and reeds do all the work.Things build in intensity and the two trade off between taking the lead and providing the atmosphere, as the drumming eventually comes a bit more into focus.
The second half picks up where the first left off, with the percussion right off the bat.Olson and Hardiman subject their instruments to untoward abuse, making for a multitude of wheezing and pained noises, slowly drifting through.As the 20-plus minute piece goes on, things shift towards the darkness, with some droning synth added.There is a heaviness throughout that remains strangely melodic and eventually relents, closing on a more relaxed note.
Volume 3, recorded on the eve of Christmas Eve, 2017, features the trio bringing a lot of new toys to the session in comparison, and the four lengthy parts really reflect this change in direction.There is less of a jazz heavy feel right from the start:a mass of plucked and scraped strings from Hardiman's guitar conjures up some free improv moods.What sounds like crickets far in the distance may be electronics, or may be actual field recordings, and Case brings in a distant electronic rattle.There is still a good deal of restraint, but the complexity builds, and some percussive aspects and noisy scrapes are blended with Olson's reeds coming in quietly.By the end, they link into a simple but effective melodic progression that solidifies as a brilliant bit of horror film score tension.
The reeds and woodwinds continue into the second part, but here they are less tense overall and instead, with the full arrangement, comes across like a deconstructed, abstract take on a spaghetti western soundtrack.The electronics take on a metallic edge, percussive bits build, and the pained sax and horns squeal through violently, resulting in something not far removed from some of Wolf Eyes' best moments, albeit reduced to the barest essentials.By the third segment the expansive twinkling electronics and rattling guitar take the focus, and when Olson’s horn starts in concert with Hardiman's guitar, it is a brilliant bit of chaotic free improvisation.The final segment nicely ties things together and brings the feel back to the previous installments of the series.Wheezing wind instruments and far off electronics pair together, with improvised percussion subtly punctuating the entirety of the piece.There may be a few outbursts towards the end, but the trio tie things up on an excellent note, nodding to not only the previous sessions on the disc, but their entire body of work.
With the addition of guitar and more electronics on Volume 3, it is clear that Jeff Case, Eric Hardiman, and John Olson still have much more in reserve for these holiday jam sessions.I personally appreciated the way that the second volume continued nicely from the first, but by the third the trio were going on a very different trip, with varied instrumentation and playing styles.It makes for a series of recordings that seriously just keep getting better and better, and I have my fingers crossed that, in a cold Albany basement between Thanksgiving and Christmas of this year, these guys will be throwing down at least a fourth volume.
It seemed like last year's Tack För Kaffet / So Long was the bittersweet swansong for a shape-shifting creative force that brought the world so much timeless psychedelia, but a handful of the participants from that album have now surfaced anew. Of Träden's four members, only founding guitarist Jakob Sjöholm remains from Träd, Gräs Och Stenar's original line-up, yet this latest incarnation feels like the natural next chapter for an entity that has always been fairly loosely defined. While there is nothing particularly ambitious or revelatory on this album, this new foursome prove to be especially adept at crafting warm, fluid, and unpretentious music that perfectly evokes the quiet pleasures of a handful of talented friends comfortably jamming and bouncing ideas off of one another in a countryside studio. Some of those jams ultimately turned into very good songs, of course, but the real magic of Träden is that the band feels free, sincere, casually experimental, and joyful in a way that is rarely heard these days.
Given that everyone in Träden except drummer Hannah Östergren was involved in Tack För Kaffet, it is no surprise that the opening "När Lingon Mognar" picks up right where that album left off, unfolding as a languorously droning groove embellished with chant-like vocals and a lazily winding and smoldering guitar solo that casually comes and goes.It is one of the better songs on the album, but it is not particularly representative of what follows.That elusive aesthetic highlights one of Träden's most endearing qualities, as they are singularly laidback and non-dogmatic in their approach to sun-dappled psychedelia.That organic, unhurried, and loose-limbed vision is admittedly something of a double-edged sword, occasionally resulting in indulgently meandering vamps like the 11-minute "Tamburan," but it seems like a necessary foundation to the band’s successes as well, most of which occupy the album’s more fleshed-out second half.The understated bass-driven groove of "Kung Karlsson" is yet another lengthy vamp on a single, unchanging motif, but the following "Å Nej (Oh No)" sounds like a charmingly woozy and ramshackle reimagining of Ringo Starr's "No No Song." That is one of the absolute last things I would expect from a legendary psych band, but it fits comfortably into the "anything goes" eccentricity that this milieu has always embraced. Also, it is extremely endearing that Träden do not take themselves particularly seriously and can seamlessly shift from tormented, blown-out guitars to infectiously kooky pop weirdness and back again.
While it is not exactly the most heavyweight material, "Å Nej" is the first in a three-song stretch of Träden's strongest work.For example, "OTO" is the best of the album's instrumental vamps, as its trance-like, slow-motion reverie provides the perfect backdrop for a dreamily lysergic feast of tenderly shimmering, sliding, and moaning guitars.The mournful "Hoppas Du Förstår (Hope You Understand)" that follows is similarly tender, feeling like a bittersweet elegy for a lost friend or love.Unlike most of the album, it is tightly structured and melodic.Also, it replaces the omnipresent electric guitars with some gorgeously soulful esraj playing from Reine Fiske.The album then winds to a close with a pair of fine guitar showcases.The first, "Hymn," is another one of the band's slow-motion vamps, but Sjöholm and Fiske weave an especially beautiful and simmering web of intertwining arpeggios and fragments of melody.It is actually one of the more overtly experimental pieces on the album as well, as there are some buried field recordings and shuddering, effects-ravaged chords that sneak into the mix as it slowly builds.The final piece is even more of a surprise, as "Det Finns Blått (There Is Blue)" rolls along with a relentlessly purposeful momentum as gnarled and strangled guitars twist and snake around the moaning vocals. It sounds weirdly menacing and uncharacteristically fiery when compared to the rest of the album and is the second of the two pieces Sjöholm wrote for the album.The other was album highlight "Hoppas Du Förstår," which I suppose means that he is the intense, beating heart of the ensemble.I wish he took the reins more often, as he certainly writes the most striking songs, but I otherwise appreciate the album's balance of darkness and light.
There are a couple of other aspects to Träden that leave room for improvement as well, as this album is far too good to be just a comforting revival of a familiar and beloved project, yet a bit too relaxed and meandering to quite feel like a vital new entity."OTO" aside, all of the best pieces seem to be those in which someone is actually credited as a songwriter, rather than those that arose entirely from a full-band jam.In fact, two of the best songs appear to be covers: "När Lingon Mognar" was originally recorded by Harvester, while "Å Nej" was written by Blå Tåget‘s Mats G. Bengtsson.While Träden have a wonderful improvisatory chemistry, it definitely seems like their jams take a more focused and compelling route when they start from an established theme.Also, they have a bit of a tendency to amiably ride midpaced grooves without doing anything to transcend that feeling of a band comfortably jamming without a higher purpose.Unsurprisingly, the band's best work tends to happen when they have a strong melody to work around or find a way to inject some needed bite or sharper edges into their soloing.That said, I still like quite a lot of this album.It may feel like a potentially great band just starting to find their direction, but they are damn good when they hit the mark.More importantly, Träden feel like a much needed corrective to a world sadly lacking the communal spirit of Europe's hippy golden age of bands like Amon Düül II, Pärson Sounds, and Träd, Gräs Och Stenar themselves.
It is quite rare for me to be interested in anyone's archival rehearsal tapes, but Catherine Christer Hennix's oft-fascinating career has been woefully under-documented until only recently. In fact, this is arguably her formal vinyl debut, a milestone that improbably took more than four decades to reach. These recordings date back from 1976, when her ensemble The Deontic Miracle was performing at the Dream Music Festival in Sweden, but the album mostly features Hennix by herself playing a keyboard tuned to just-intonation. Given that these three pieces were never intended for release, it is no surprise that there is occasionally a meandering, improvisatory feel, but a few of them blossom into a wonderfully hallucinatory swirl of uneasily harmonizing overtones. Selected Early Keyboard Works is a bit more than a fine collection of unreleased material though, as it highlights a more unpolished and intimate side of Hennix's vision than her other releases. More importantly, it features one of the greatest pieces ever recorded by the La Monte Young/Pandit Pran Nath milieu.
The following "The Well-Tuned Marimba" is even better still, as the eerie drones of Hans Isgren's sheng weave darkly dissonant harmonies with Hennix's gently churning and glimmering web of strange arpeggios.It is easily one of the finest pieces that Hennix has ever recorded, filling the room like a murky and vaguely menacing supernatural cloud.While it only lasts for about 18 minutes, it feels like a veil has been pulled away to offer a brief glimpse of some kind of infinite, extradimensional void of cosmic horror lurking just behind the precarious façade of our reality.It is quite a glorious illusion, feeling far more like a living and hallucinatory nightmare world than a mere composition.Sometimes I forget that Hennix's work is absolutely the most visceral and disturbing of all the Pandit Pran Nath-inspired minimalists."The Well-Tuned Marimba" is a good reminder that her drone work is just one facet of a vision that can also descend into some rather dark and deliciously uncomfortable territory.The album's final piece "Equal Temperament Fender Mix" is also quite unique, if a bit less audacious.As the title indicates, Hennix changed her tuning to 12-tone equal temperament, but the subtle harmonic difference between one unusual tuning and another is more or less lost on me.To my ears, it is far more significant that she added tape-delay to her arsenal, a tool that she wields brilliantly.It sounds a lot like reverb-swathed lo-fi recording of a broken music box struggling to play a classical piano sonata, but quickly losing the thread as overlapping delays transform the piece into a bleary pile-up of stuttering and plinking melodic fragments.
Apparently, this double album is merely the first installment of a planned series of archival Hennix releases.If this is what Blank Forms was able to unearth from just early rehearsal tapes, it bodes quite well for the rest of the series.As whole, Selected Early Keyboard Works is a strong collection that illuminates an early and formative phase in Hennix’s development into a formidable and truly unique composer.As a somewhat devout fan, it was a delight for me to hear an album so radically different from her other releases, as well as was quite a pleasant surprise to discover that it was still legitimately excellent (if a bit raw).The bigger surprise, however, was that this is not an album strictly for the fans, as "The Well-Tuned Marimba" is an absolute stunner.In fact, I hereby declare it to be one of the true masterpieces of 20th century minimalism.That alone makes Selected Early Keyboard Works a significant and revelatory work.The rest of the album is just icing on the cake.
I suspect I am far from alone in being unfamiliar with the music of Dutch composer Dick Raaijmakers, as there is not a hell of a lot of electronic music from the '18 and early '60s that has aged well. In his time, however, he was an important and pioneering figure in that milieu, performing significant electro-acoustic research and co-founding STEIM. He was also a thoughtful and inventive theorist and his ideas have proven to be a bit more timeless than his recordings. For this piece, originally commissioned by Sonic Acts, Thomas Ankersmit worked with similar tools to those that were available to Raaijmakers, but the album's true raison d'être is the exploration of holophonic sound fields. Wielding frequencies with scalpel-like precision, Ankersmit is able to trick the inner ear into conjuring new sounds that do not actually exist on the recording, transforming and evolving as the listener's spatial relationship to the speakers changes. It is a very neat trick, obviously, at times feeling like the album has physically burrowed directly into my head and started aggressively rearranging things. Ankersmit definitely would have been burned as a witch if this album had been made in earlier times.
One recurring thing that I have noticed with albums designed to trigger aural hallucinations is that the hallucinations are never, ever pretty ones like trails of shimmering colors.Rather, they tend to be far more on the infernal side of the equation, evoking something somewhere between an uneasy sense of vertigo and a nerve-jangling psychotic break from reality.Naturally, Ankersmit does not shy away from continuing that proud tradition, so it must be said that Homage to Dick Raaijmakers can be an incredibly dissonant and challenging bit of sound art during its synapse-frying crescendos.In the right hands, a modular synthesizer and some sine wave generators can be every bit as brutal as the most howling white noise assault.Unlike a harsh noise album, however, Homage has an extremely nuanced and enigmatic trajectory, seamlessly drifting from crackling, humming, and buzzing stasis into vividly textured vistas of eerie beauty or eruptions of harrowing dissonance.As such, this album feels like floating through a lysergic electromagnetic cloud that unexpectedly blossoms into one otherworldly set piece after another.The first and most beautiful such moment occurs rather early on, as a motif that sounds like an undulating chorus of malfunctioning short-wave radios dissipates into erratic sputtering, then unexpectedly re-coheres into haunting and tormented-sounding sonar pings in a gathering storm of static.It is quite a ghostly and weirdly lovely passage, but it is an elusively short-lived one destined never to repeat.
Instead, the piece morphs into a surreal miasma of electronic beeps and smeared synth tones that seems to achieve the piece's first significant holophonic moment, feeling like the air around me has become kind of a living and claustrophobia-inducing fog.After that, the album seems to plunge into the ocean's depths for a while, settling into a deep, submerged-sounding throb ravaged by bursts of electrical interference and violently shifting tectonic plates.At its peak, the cacophony is not unlike Merzbow, as Ankersmit gamely unleashes a howling onslaught of searing and splattering destruction.Unlike Merzbow, however, that caustic blizzard is actually a comparatively more listenable passage that eventually gives way to something far more bizarre and uncomfortable.It is fascinating how the blunt force of the piece has almost an inverse relationship to its heaviness, as the oscillating swirl of deep drones that follows feels like it is bending and warping reality in a sickly and unnerving way.After that, the album only grows stranger, dissolving into a brief void of sustained whines and the illusion of skipping, mangled tapes of field recordings (and possibly some kind of large, psychedelic owl).That, of course, is the calm before the storm, leading into an unhinged and buzzing crescendo of sanity-eroding whines.Its power is weirdly sneaky and cumulative, as it feels like I am surrounded by high-tension power lines that all seem to be emitting similar frequencies…but not quite the same frequency, resulting in a relentless and inescapable cloud of oscillating, dissonant harmonies that lasts for an uncomfortably long time.In some ways, it definitely feels like an endurance test, but it also feels like the air itself is shivering and alive and the sensations subtly shift as I move and tilt my head.In fact, it almost becomes meditative once I start to become numb enough to the dissonance to appreciate the spectral layering.
Obviously, such passages can be quite a rough ride and Homage is not particularly conducive to passive, casual, or frequent listening, but I genuinely appreciate how Ankersmit seems to revel in the more uncomfortable passages.Genuinely experimental sound art should hurt a bit if it is done right and Ankersmit does it exactly right.I am actually surprised at how rare albums in this vein seem to be, as previous generations took care of all the research needed to weaponize frequency manipulation, yet virtually no one seems to make use of their findings.And those that do seem like goddamn sorcerers.I grasp that psychoacoustics is a cerebral and complex field, but understanding it essentially adds an entirely new dimension to sound and it is an extremely cool one (not at all like the difference between 2D and 3D film).On a related note, it would be very easy for an album in this vein to turn out quite bloodless and academic-sounding in the wrong hands, so I am also impressed with how skillfully that peril is avoided here.There are certainly some aesthetic nods to early electronic music, as Ankersmit adapted Raaijmakers approach of treating music as more of a "weather system" than a structure of melodies and harmonies, but the palpable aural phantasms that he conjures up are very compelling, very visceral, and very contemporary.
For over half a decade, William Basinski and Lawrence English have been in regular contact with one another. During that time their paths have crossed repeatedly in various cities; Zagreb, Los Angeles, Hobart and more, in a variety situations. It was from these chance encounters – and the strange familiar of lives lived in transit – that their first collaboration, Selva Oscura, was seeded.
The phrase Selva Oscura draws its root from Dante’s Inferno. Literally translated as "twilight forest," it metaphorically speaks to both those who find themselves on the unfamiliar path and more explicitly the nature of losing one's way in place and time.
Each of the extended pieces on this record maps an acoustic topography that draws on the concept of drifting into the strange familiar. The works each dwell in an ever shifting, yet fundamentally constant state of unfolding. As one sound fades away, another is revealed in its place, creating a sense of an eternal reveal.
Selva Oscura was recorded in Brisbane and Los Angeles simultaneously. The compositions were each created through a process of iteration and rearrangement that inverted the micro and macro characteristics of the raw sonic materials. Dynamics and density were chiseled with restraint and at other times intensely reductionist approaches to create a limitlessly deep, but open sound field – as rich as the suggested place from which its title is drawn.
Selva Oscura is dedicated to Paul Clipson, a close friend of both William and Lawrence, and whose work celebrated the wonder that is becoming lost in experiences that lie in excess of our everyday understandings.
Here's the warts n' all lo-fi CD-R demo era that in 2001 (!) laid the blueprint for Skygreen's ongoing non-career. Recorded fast & often improvised, these are sincere attempts by crude musicians in love with the TVP's, ESP-Disk, tambourines & Kenneth Patchen drawings.
Hope you can find something to enjoy in it.
The Skygreen Leopards Love You etc etc
tracks 1-20 are on the LP, 21-24 are digital bonus tracks
credits
most everything by Donovan Quinn & Glenn Donaldson
Jennifer Modenessi sang on some songs too.
recorded 2001 in San Francisco on Tascam 388 on Radio Shack brand 1/4" reels.
Re-Verbed (No-Input Mixing Board 9) is the latest edition from Tokyo based artist Toshimaru Nakamura.
The No-Input Mixing Board is a unique instrument pioneered by Nakamura. As its name suggests, it is a mixing console within which external no input exists. The instrument is fueled only by its own feedback. Initially used by Nakamura as a more tonal instrument, creating incredibly high frequency outputs, over time the mixing board has become decided more rhythmic and harmonic. It is this sonic territory that is the focus of this edition.
Re-Verbed (No-Input Mixing Board 9) is by far one of Nakamura's most musical recordings. The board’s tonality is front and center; low pulses and cavernous pulses fizzle and murmur with a subtle but frenetic energy. Drifting into decidedly dub oriented directions, Nakamura allows the instrument to breathe; specifically he finds new dimensions to the ways interference can be brought into harmony within the pieces. While the instrument might suggest a sense of indeterminacy, Nakamura’s intimate relationship with it means he can maintain an unerring sense of control over it.
Re-Verbed (No-Input Mixing Board 9) is evidence of his intense capacity to create profound work with this most unusual of devices. A conjuring of something truly unique from literally nothing.
This Mortal Coil was the given name of a strictly-studio project conceived and produced by 4AD founder Ivo Watts-Russell that spawned three albums - It'll End In Tears (1984), Filigree & Shadow (1986), Blood (1991).
Over the span of eight years he, along with Blackwing Studios house engineer/ co-producer, John Fryer, and a rotating cast of musicians, created original works, musical links and reinterpretations of impeccably curated songs; introducing a new audience to the talents of a previous generation including Big Star, Tim Buckley, Roy Harper, Spirit, Gene Clark, Dino Valenti, Rain Parade, Emmylou Harris, Syd Barrett and Colin Newman, amongst others.
The new deluxe vinyl versions differ from the original releases with each album having had its artwork reimagined by Ivo Watts-Russell and Vaughan Oliver (4AD’s long-time visual partner). All three are now presented in beautiful, hand finished and high-gloss gatefold sleeves, using remastered audio made from the original analogue studio tapes by the late, great John Dent.
The deluxe CD editions are being manufactured by the Ichikudo company in Japan, coming packaged in striking gatefold paper sleeves which are printed to the highest standard. Originally made available as part of a highly limited boxset back in 2011, these new versions differ by being UHQCDs (Ultimate High Quality Compact Disc) rather than HDCDs (High Definition Compatible Digital).
Format : 7 inch single (clear vinyl) + digital copy
Cat No: TWI 1242
Released: 23 November 2018
Barcode:708 527 180 648
PDP:£3.99
Les Disques du Crepuscule presents All Through the Night, the first of two of newly recorded 7-inch coloured vinyl singles by The Passengers, the late 1970s new wave group from Brussels who subsequently became cult Factory/Crepuscule band The Names.
In 1978, with the Brussels scene still in the grip of raw punk, The Passengers offered a fresh, pop-oriented sensibility, mingled with the darker accents of later post-punk. This was young music in every sense, with none of The Passengers older than 22, shaped more by American than British influences, notably the Velvet Underground, whose radical style was in turn echoed by late Seventies bands like Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Talking Heads and Television. The presence of Isabelle Hanrez on vocals also made comparisons with Blondie inescapable.
With their first gigs in the five-piece quickly became a local sensation, and in March 1978 won a battle of the bands known as the ‘First Belgian Punk Contest’ - only to reject the prize (a one-off single deal) as a cynical commercial ploy. Instead, the band chose to tape All Through the Night for Brussels punk imprint Romantik Records, only for the label to fold before this came to pass.
The Passengers parted company soon after, with Michel Sordinia, Marc Deprez and Christophe Den Tandt becoming The Names on Factory Records, while Hanrez formed own pop-punk outfit, Isabelle et les Nic-Nacs. Four decades on, the original Passengers quintet decided to record and issue the singles denied a release at the time, recorded and played as if it were still 1978!
Cover portrait by Eric de Merkline. Design by Atomluft. Available on 7-inch clear vinyl single (includes free digital copy on MP3). Limited to 500 copies.
PDP:£10.99 (see attached separate sheet for vinyl info)
Factory Benelux presents a deluxe 4xCD edition of Without Mercy, the fourth studio album by cult Manchester group The Durutti Column, originally issued in 1984 and widely regarded as Vini Reilly’s most ambitious album.
In 1983 Durutti Column mentor/manager Tony Wilson asked Vini Reilly to abandon fleeting guitar miniatures in favour of a long-form modern classical piece. The result was an ambitious 20 minute instrumental suite, Without Mercy, performed by core Durutti duo Vini Reilly and Bruce Mitchell along with Blaine L. Reininger and John Metcalfe (violas), Caroline Lavelle (cello), Tim Kellett (trumpet) and Maunagh Fleming (cor anglais).
Explains Vini: “Tony had just come in for a conversation one day and said, ‘Look, you keep making these albums that you want to make, and I’m quite happy with you doing that, but just give me this one album and do it my way.’ He wanted it to have a narrative determined by a Keats poem, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, which he said was the poet’s version of a pop song: boy meets girl, falls in love with girl, loses girl, blah blah blah. It was a very, very Tony way of looking at it. He had aspirations that I should be taken seriously.”
Produced by Reilly and Wilson at Strawberry Studio and Britannia Row, Without Mercy was originally split into 19 separate stanzas, some of which have now been restored using digital cue points on the CD. Bonus tracks include the original recordings of Duet, Estoril a Noite and Favourite Descending Intervals (all re-worked for inclusion on Without Mercy), as well as companion EP Say What You Mean, Mean What You Say, collaborations with John Metcalfe, Steven Brown and Benjamin Lew, and two previously unreleased live sets across Discs 3 and 4, recorded at London School of Economics in December 1984 and Oslo in December 1986.
The remastered 4xCD set is housed in a clamshell card box, with inner wallets and liner notes by Reilly, Wilson, Mitchell, Reininger and Metcalfe. The cover painting is L’Etang de Trivaux by Henri Matisse (1916/17)
CD box tracklist:
Disc 1:
1. Without Mercy (Stanzas I-III)
2. Without Mercy (Stanzas IV-VII)
3. Without Mercy (Stanza VIII)
4. Without Mercy (Stanzas IX-XII)
5. Without Mercy 2
6. All That Love and Maths Can Do
7. Snowflakes
8. Profondeurs des Eaux des Laques
9. The Sea Wall
10. Duet
11. Estoril a Noite
12. Favourite Descending Intervals
Disc 2
1. Goodbye
2. The Room
3. A Little Mercy
4. Silence
5. E.E.
6. Hello
7. Paresseuse Aussi
8. Mercy Theme (live Tokyo 1985)
9. A Little Mercy (live Tokyo 1985)
10. Estoril A Noite (live Rotterdam 1983)
11. Favourite Descending Intervals (live Manchester 2011)
PDP:£7.18. (see attached separate sheet for vinyl info)
M24J (Anthology) is a collection of valuable passages recorded by The Durutti Column between 1979 and 2011 for various iterations of Factory Records, including poignant tributes to manager/mentor Anthony H. Wilson.
Available as a double CD set (and also a double vinyl), M24J (Anthology) includes selections from The Return of the Durutti Column, LC, Another Setting, Short Stories for Pauline, Without Mercy, Circuses and Bread, The Guitar and Other Machines, Vini Reilly, Obey the Time, Treatise on the Steppenwolf and A Paean to Wilson.
“The Durutti Column was Tony’s baby,” says Durutti mainman Vini Reilly. “We were the first act signed up to his Factory club night, and the first band signed to Factory Records. Tony became my mentor, somebody to look up to. He was a very tough character, yet he was very gentle. He had many sides. The biggest arguments with Tony were that he wanted to stop me singing with my schoolboy lyrics and my dreadful voice.”
Reilly’s music remains resolutely unclassifiable, and sounds better and better with each passing year. “Don’t listen to the form,” he insists, “listen to the content. Don't listen to the style, the tradition, the technique, just the content of the music. Then judge. People say The Durutti Column is this or that. I don’t care so long as we make good music. There's so much good music around. Don't bother with form. Just enjoy.”
Bonus tracks on the CD version include three tracks recorded live in Leeds on 7 October 1980, these being the earliest preserved professional in concert recordings by Vini Reilly. The cover portrait of Vini Reilly is by Mark Warner.
CD tracklist:
Disc 1
1. Sketch for Summer
2. Conduct
3. Lips That Would Kiss
4. For Belgian Friends
5. Danny
6. Messidor
7. The Beggar (live in Paris)
8. Prayer
9. Mercy Theme (Duet)
10. Estoril a Noite
11. College
12. All That Love and Maths Can Do
13. Pauline
14. Arpeggiator
15. Catos con Guantes
16. Otis
17. Love No More
18. My Country
Disc 2
1. Home
2. Art and Freight
3. My Only Love
4. A Beautiful Thought Pt 1
5. The Title On the Cover
6. Bruce
7. The Missing Boy
8. Anthony (Favourite Descending Intervals)
9. A Paean to Wilson I: Or Are You Just a Technician?