We have finally cleared out the backlog of great music and present some new episodes.
Episode 711 features music from The Jesus and Mary Chain, Zola Jesus, Duster, Sangre Nueva, Dialect, The Bug, Cleared, Mount Eerie, Mulatu Astatke & Hoodna Orchestra, Hayden Pedigo, Bistro Boy, and Ibukun Sunday.
Episode 712 has tunes by Mazza Vision, Waveskania, Black Pus, Sam Gendel, Benny Bock, and Hans Kjorstad, Katharina Grosse, Carina Khorkhordina, Tintin Patrone, Billy Roisz, and Stefan Schneider, His Name Is Alive, artificial memory trace, mclusky, Justin Walter, mastroKristo, Başak Günak, and William Basinski.
Episode 713 brings you sounds from Mouse On Mars, Leavs, Lawrence English, Mo Dotti, Wendy Eisenberg, Envy, Ben Lukas Boysen, Cindytalk, Mercury Rev, White Poppy, Anadol & Marie Klock, and Galaxie 500.
Skolavordustigur Street in Reykjavík photo by Jon (your Podcast DJ).
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My biggest criticism of this duo's first CD for the considerably waning NovaMute sublabel was its lack of cohesion as an album, an all-too common pitfall that techno artists fall into when signed based on their dancefloor prowess. Upon receiving this in my mailbox, I had hoped that Mr. No and Bryan Black would use their second shot on plastic to accomplish something better, to learn from their influences instead of just impersonating them. I should have known better.
On its face, there is nothing wrong with a CD packed with clubby updates of Nitzer Ebb and Front 242. Still, as the electroclash and technowave once touted by DJ Hell's Gigolo label has been completely co-opted by hygiene-deficient hipsters and simultaneously diminished by the boisterous ascent of the far more exciting French wave, electronic body music rehashes like "Drug Punk," the acid washed "20 Volts of Steel," and the previously released "Bleep #1" just don't carry much weight.DJs who still hold tight to the dark machine beats will dig the ghoulish horror house grooves of "Re-Format" and the Daft Punk-foraging title track.Still, there is nothing new here musically when compared to Klunk, their debut released just last year.Perhaps some time away from the studio will give these guys a chance to reevaluate their position, though I think I have learned my lesson enough to pass on whatever might come next from them.To paraphrase our bumbling president, I wont get fooled again.
What makes Unhuman such a bitter pill to swallow is not even Motor's complacency for mere adequacy and emulation, but that Novamute, once among the vanguard of electronic music’s imprints, would continue to nurture such retrograde entertainment.This is the same label that brought Richie Hawtin to international superstardom with several Plastikman albums and three DE9 mixes that raised standards, rewrote rules, and seduced generations.Admittedly, Novamute has put out its share of throwaways, but it is easy to forgive a few missteps when weighing those decisions against classics from Luke Slater, Soul Center, and Speedy J, to name just a few.The latter of these especially had a profound impact on my appreciation for electronic music with A Shocking Hobby, a challenging monolith of a record that shook the foundations with its post-industrial drill n bass and eviscerated techno.Unhuman, another middling collection of Motor's possible singles in lieu of a proper album sullies the legacy of this formerly great sublabel, now more likely to be absorbed into the EMI failure factory and hopefully euthanized out of its misery.
Creating new compositions by sampling from popular music has been going on longer than I have been alive. Yet, this debut, perhaps one of the most important albums ever to appear on Kompakt, showcases the work of an exceptional musician operating in and redefining this proud yet still controversial tradition.
One could claim that Axel Willner, the producer behind The Field moniker, has taken the most blatant of shortcuts, even worse than those undertaken by liberally plunderphonic mash-up artists.After all, even the reviled-or-revered Girl Talk deserves credit for interweaving so many recognizable hits into each of his seamless, genre-defying tracks.Approaching From Here We Go Sublime on its superficial surface, Willner, however, appears to have simply sliced just a few fatty seconds out of some of his favorite tunes, lazily pasted them into sparsely populated loops, and called it a day.Such shortsighted and close-minded presumption closes people off to these wondrously minimal neo-trance sounds that breezing through their speakers.Many electronic music fans have cringed at this new terminology, still recoiling from the rapid explosion and subsequent crude gluttony that turned euphoric crescendos into prepackaged commodities.Yet like his similarly impressive though methodologically opposite labelmate Kaito, Willner resurrects that inexplicable bliss in which so many of us exulted at permissive nightclubs and sweaty warehouses worldwide.
By restricting his sonic palate in the manner that Willner has as The Field, the journey to discover that inexplicable essence of what fills the soul with jubilance and joy becomes more refined than ever.“The Little Heart Beats So Fast” practically lifts me off my feet every time I hear it, wasting little time to introduce its handy little stolen melody, soon letting acidic bass and indecipherable blossoms of uplifting sound raise the blood pressure and dilate the pupils.The smooth retro snares and gurgling breathy stabs that ignite “Everday” make it extraordinary, but the vocal, appearing roughly three minutes in, brings this already gorgeous track and the album itself to a whole new level of grandeur.Yet not every cut here begins with such instant aural gratification.Upon first hearing the monotonous accordion slump and grind of “Silent”, I never imagined the poppy euphony that would soon come and, to my delight, ultimately dwarf all other elements.
Part of the fun of From Here We Go Sublime comes from trainspotting the source material.In a few of the cases, this is downright elementary, while others are much more subtle and even elusive.The closing title track practically bludgeons listeners with its obvious theft and merciless manipulation of The Flamingos’ ghostly 1959 doo-wop cover of “I Only Have Eyes For You.” In contrast, the dreamily Balearic “A Paw Over My Face” delivers its secret as more of a punchline, waiting for the very end of the track to give away those distinct fragments of Lionel Richie’s chart-topping “Hello”.Though I’m only remotely familiar with her catalog to identify the actual track, I strongly suspect that the ten minute epic “The Deal” has taken its ethereal vocals from none other than new age songstress Enya.
Though constantly criticized by message board trolls and curmudgeons, Kompakt has entered into a renaissance in 2008, with From Here We Go Sublime as its first of many testaments to that.Stitching together familiar strains of pop, techno, and ambient music with such fine threads is a task unto itself, but creating a tapestry greater than the sum of its parts is something different altogether.The Field’s plucky debut marks a crucial moment in the history of electronic music, and, though surely divisive among the faithful, will easily rank among one of the best albums of the year.
This gorgeous package from the the Leaf Label contains eight songs showcasing a new collaboration between Jeremy and Heather of AHAAH, playing with a group of seasoned Hungarian musicians. Rounding out the cast are a few members of Beirut. What results is a brief but exhilarating extra-geographical jaunt through Hungarian, Serbian, Romanian and klezmer forms, as only AHAAH can produce.
At the inception of this project four years ago, one might have been justified to accuse Jeremy Barnes of a cynical kind of musical exoticization, borrowing heavily from Eastern European folk forms as a readymade repository of the surreal and evocative. For a musician who was previously best known for playing on willfully eccentric Neutral Milk Hotel and Bablicon albums, the criticism might have seemed to have some basis in reality. However, four years and several albums down the line, it is becoming much more difficult to level the accusation of audio tourism against A Hawk and a Hacksaw. Barnes, Trost, and co. have so doggedly pursued their particular soundworld that it is now impossible to see their elaboration and exploration of Slavic, Jewish, and Magyar musics as anything other than completely genuine. As the music becomes less about unorthodox cultural hybrids and more focused on faithful, spirited performances of these various cultural strands, it also loses any associations it might have once had with indie dilettantism.
I am noting all of this up front because this EP on the Leaf Label contains some of AHAAH's best recordings yet, and even though it is relatively short, it contains such a wide breadth of musical styles and moods that it might be accused of wanton eclecticism. This is very far from the case, however. Instead, this newly-extended musical collective uses their extensive knowledge of various folk musics to produce a breathlessly exciting and beautiful mini-album that is perfectly sequenced, weaving together original compositions with vigorous performances of traditional melodies. Opening with Heather Trost's composition "Kiraly Siratas," dominated by swoops of violin and the haunting tones of the cymbalom (a Hungarian dulcimer-like instrument), the atmosphere is established: joyfully dramatic, undeniably cinematic, unashamedly romantic.
"Zozobra" is the most energetic track on the EP, a fast-tempo slapstick combination of expertly played cymbalom, accordion and percussion. I've never been a dancer, but I found it difficult to resist the urge to jump out of my chair and manfiest bodily the joyful uptempo polyrhythms. "Serbian Cocek" is an ensemble piece, combining the full compositional abilities of all the musicians. Parallels will no doubt be drawn to the music of Beirut, because of the Mariachi-by-way-of-Budapest trumpets. Even with the big-band setup, the track is emotionally expressive and even impressionistic at times, an effect of the imperfect, slightly off-kilter playing. All of the performances captured here sound like just that: performances. Real human beings playing instruments, rather than clinical, surgically-edited and overdubbed studio creations. "Romanian Hora and Bulgar" is actually a live recording, but the only way that it differs from the rest of the EP is the smattering of audience noise, which merely serves to intensify the energy and drama of the performance. "Ihabibi" elaborates upon a peculiarly Balkan understanding of Arabic music, and is one of the most dynamic and beautifully textured songs on the disc. The EP ends with a trio of traditional songs, an ensemble piece ("Oriental Hora") featuring the trumpet of Zach Condon, sandwiched between two sparser pieces: one a solo on cymbalom ("Vajdaszentivany"), and the other a showcase for the Hungarian bagpipes, expertly played by Bela Agoston.
This generous set also includes a DVD featuring a 20-minute documentary about AHAAH, splicing together clips of the group in the studio and during live performances in Albequerque, in Hungary and all across the European continent. It's a very skillfully assembled set of clips that left me wanting more, but definitely clued me in to the intensity and intimacy of the AHAAH live experience, which previously I had only witnessed via the group's appearance on The Eye nearly two years ago. I have the feeling that the next full-length album from Barnes, Trost and co. is going to be a true masterpiece, if this stunning EP is any indication of the exponential growth-rate of this unique group.
Espen Sommer Eide and Dag-Are Haugan return as Alog for yet another fantastic album. They further refine their symbiosis of natural and electronic sounds, always sounding at once earthy and cosmic. Never utilizing weird sounds just for the sake of it, the dozen tracks on this CD are all pieces of music that sound more than beautiful. As expected from Alog, this is a remarkable album that reveals more and more with each listen.
What I enjoy most about Amateur (and this applies to pretty much all the other albums put out by Rune Grammofon) is the attention to detail in terms of sounds and sound treatments. Eide and Haugan are not afraid to leave a sound as it is if it has the right character or to tweak it if it needs a little help fitting in with the rest of the sounds. Although I must admit, sometimes it is hard to tell what has been treated in the studio and what is a "real life" sound as there are so many unusual instruments used on and built for the album. Not only that but Alog approach voices from an interesting perspective, the vocal layering of "Write Your Thoughts in Water" sound like a living church organ (and from what I can tell, there no little digital trickery going on here).
Amateur has a dreamy, meandering feel to it. Many of the pieces (especially the aptly named "The Learning Curve") begin with random sounding noises, like the recording has started while the two musicians are trying to figure out what instruments they are playing. However, as if by magic, it all comes together to form a delicate and captivating whole. A good example of this is "The Future of Norwegian Wood," which for the first half of the piece is a cut up of the sound of nails been hammered into wood which makes for interesting listening on its own. When the treated piano comes in over this unusual percussion, the effect is startling and gorgeous.
Most of the album is fairly laid back but Eide and Haugan can bring the music to the boil when they want to, the powerful staccato of "The Beginner" and the middle part of the lengthy "Bedlam Emblem." While Amateur is far from a boring album, it would have been nice to have one or two more livelier pieces on it but that might be entering the realms of greed. As it stands it is a cracker of an album, a logical and fitting continuation of Alog's journey through sound.
Having been lucky enough to have heard this track live, my appetite for a recorded version was finally sated when "Ornithology" arrived on the arse-end of a compilation's otherwise appalling attempt to show of the best of the North East's new talent. Armed only with an acoustic guitar, light fingered percussion and a sweetly coarse growl, Richard Dawson shines through the lumpen singer-songwriter tag.
The gregarious melancholy and eye moistening turn of phrase are still present, even if his voice is now a little ocean weathered and saddened since the spark-eyed melancholy of 2005's Sings Songs and Plays Guitar. Where other artists mine their lives for songs only to maul them into genericisms, Richard Dawson achingly strings this song with clearly personal details of his life. Despite this, his writing doesn't feel the least bit didactic or dogmatic, it feels more human than most. The forced verbosity of some lines just gives the song an even bigger personality. "Ornithology" is a stream of incidents laced together by birds, beginning with a tale of finding a dying seagull and touching on his grandfather's POW-installed dislike of rice. Lyrics this explicitly personal often fall foul of their own quirks, but Dawson's simplicity, idiosyncratic cadence and homespun beauty make this a touching, cracked thing of delight.
The title claims that Bower and company have created a new form of beauty. Instead they explore the rather conventional aim (for them) of bludgeoning the listener to submission.
This is collaboration between Bower and Basque noise artist Mattin. Its emphasis on harsh noise is similar to Sunroof!'s newest album, Spitting Gold Zebras, only more tedious. The title is homage of sorts to the Virgin Prunes, whose first release is this CD's namesake. I find it misleading because aside from the title there is little musical commonality between the two groups and none of the eclecticism and humor that the Prunes were known for. The lone track is built by a solid yet unvaried riffing buried under brittle, rumbling electronics. These components don't play off each other but continually battle for dominance, never disengaging form spot they are rutted down in. The big chords and riffs are not allowed to decay or ring out in the manner that they demand to, and any sort of modulation or timbral variation in the electronics is masked from hearing.Mattin has stated that the new goal of noise is achieving freedom, but this release sounds for like repression than anything.
He and Bower fall into the familiar conceptual trap of many harsh noise artists; that a piece must at all time maintain a maximum level of abrasiveness in order to intense or compelling. In that approach though, there is no relief that attends freedom, only sounds tensed into shapelessness.
Instead of Bower's usual fluorescent drone work and mechanistic sound pieces usually recorded under Sunroof!, sheets of high frequency noise and metallic scree dominate this album. These play with an intensity that is unremitting and eventually exhausting. Each component is constantly pushed up the front of the mix and stays there like an obnoxious cousin breathing down your neck. This directness adds a density to the sound, but the impact is blunted by the static arrangement of most the tracks. Bower has a tendency to let his sounds play for minutes without adding or subtracting anything. This approach has worked previously in Sunroof!, but the elements here are too volatile to be left alone.
The grating static and metallic blasts certainly demand attention, but each track rewards 30 seconds of it as much as six minutes. It is only until track three that this kind of searing pressure is removed. Both C. Spencer Yeh of Burning Star Core and Mick Flower of Vibracathedral Orchestra are guest players here. It's hard to discern exactly what they are doing, but there is clearly more going on. Metallic loops and scrapes flutter out of clouds of reverb like screams of some sentient junkyard. It is menacing like the rest of the album, but also controlled and approachable. The lo-fi production bunts the harsher frequencies, opening up wider listening perspective, like watching a volcano erupt on a distant island. After that, the rest of the album is a bit of a come down, and music devolves back into undifferentiated harshness.
SUNBURNED HAND OF THE MAN'S FIRE ESCAPE, PRODUCED BY FOUR TET, OUT THIS OCTOBER ON SMALLTOWN SUPERSOUND
Sunburned Hand Of The Man's new album, Fire Escape, will be released by Smalltown Supersound on October 2, 2007. Produced by Kieran Hebden (Four Tet), Fire Escape consists of an all star line up, all of whom are members of the movement which is Sunburned Hand Of The Man. Led these days by John Moloney, Sunburned Hand Of The Man is not a band in the traditional sense, Sunburned is a collection of like minded artists and musicians gathered together for the purposes of group exploration and an undying search for the 'ecstatic truth'.
Kieran Hebden's relationship with Sunburned Hand of the Man began after Hebden read an article in The Wire that touted Sunburned Hand Of The Man as leaders of the "New Weird America". The story sent Hebden on a search of Sunburned records and he's been a fan of them ever since. Sunburned supported Four Tet for a two-week tour in the spring of 2004. A couple of years later in March 2006, Hebden asked the band if they would like him to record them in a London studio (the Exchange) with the idea that he would take the recordings and construct his vision of a Sunburned record. Fire Escape is that vision.
Both Sunburned Hand of the Man and Smalltown Supersound are fans of Boredoms and they asked the band's leader, Yamatsuka Eye, to create the artwork for Fire Escape. The artwork Eye created perfectly captures the band, the album and the sound.
Sunburned Hand Of The Man on Fire Escape are: Kieran Hebden (Fourtet) - piano, drum machine, production, mix Robert Thomas - bass, samples John Moloney - drums, beats, vocals Ron Schneiderman - guitar, percussion, winds Marc Orleans - guitar, casio, winds, percussion Michael Flower (Vibracathedral Orchestra) - trumpet, guitar, winds, percussion Bridget Hayden (Vibracathedral Orchestra) - guitar, viola, winds, piano Keith Wood - guitar, percussion, winds Gozzy - wheels, map
Tracklist: 1. words to live by 2. nice butterfly mask 3. what color is the sky in the world you live in? 4. the parakeet beat 5. captain knowhere 6. fire escape 7. the wind has ears 8. triple, double, everything 9. raw backwards
Guillermo Guevara and Gabriel Acevedo's second album of scaled-back electronic beats shows a healthy disregard for conventional structure. Some of the songs might be a little too erratic to be able to dance to straight through, but they have plenty of sections that engage the head just as equally as the body.
The album starts particularly strongly with a string of great tracks, "Defoncontec," "Rebel," and "Activision." Although a single song can end up going in a variety of directions, the results are rarely fractured, which is an indication of the duo's skill in making these changes feel effortless, if not inevitable.
Although I like much of this album quite a bit, it does start to drag a bit especially toward the end, with the notable exceptions of "Space Terror Dub" and its remix. Part of the problem is that there's a certain sameness prevalent throughout these tracks. Apart from a couple of exceptions like "Clacowtnic" and “Ondalux," the timbral quality of the beats are mostly similar and could have used more texture or a bit of melody to complement the rhythm. By the time the album ends, it seems that a lot of the beats are mere skeletons of songs rather than complete songs in themselves. Yet while I am more likely to go back and listen to a few select tracks rather than the whole album, I found much more to like here than not.
Hubcap City (FB) is a five-piece ensemble that features among others Bill Taft of Smoke and Will Fratesi, who has played in both Tenement Halls and Cat Power. Recorded in tunnels, under bridges, and in cemeteries around Atlanta, this shambling album unfortunately doesn't live up to its intriguing promise.
To be honest, I didn't care for a lot of the vocals on this album. Lackadaisical and sometimes purposefully off-key, many of these would have benefited from another take or two. The lyrics are quirky but too often fall on the sillier side of absurdity, and because of this it can be hard not to dismiss them entirely. Even so, there are a couple of the more conventional songs that I like, such as "Bottle of Rum," "Rehab," and the haunting "Arabella Sabotage."
While the acoustic guitar playing on the album is more or less standard fare, a lot of the other music is quite enjoyable when the group indulges their experimental tendencies, like when they drone, groan, and moan with horns, chains, and electronics on the instrumental "He Brings the Hatchet in the Evening." I like them best when they engage with their environment directly, as is the case on "Boxcar Gamelan" when they and 'various drunk strangers' bang out layers of snaking rhythms. Even the minor contributions from "Guy on Street" explaining that everyone has certain guaranteed rights or discussing the jungle rot from Vietnam on his feet give a good sense of place through the people that inhabit it. Yet this album isn't quite the tour of subterranean Atlanta that I had hoped for, and I can't help but feel that it misses an opportunity to share the city's weirdly unique culture with a wider audience.
New Zealand has long been home to a remarkably diverse population of experimental musicians, and this excellent compilation collects tracks from some notable examples. While many of these names are doubtlessly familiar, this recording represents a significant break with New Zealand's past musical giants and instead looks boldly to the future.
Although this compilation consists of only ten tracks and even repeats a couple of artists, for what it lacks in numbers, it easily compensates in quality. Considering that it contains such a disparate selection of musicians, it maintains an admirable consistency. As different as they are, the selection and sequencing of tracks play to each other's strengths so well that it's not implausible that the songs all could have sprung from the same group. Patiently eclectic, the collection doesn’t try to forcibly shift the focus in any way but instead lets it unfold organically with each track.
Campbell Kneale's Birchville Cat Motel kicks things off with what is arguably the compilation's noisiest and most forceful track, "Skies Crimson Tears." The charged guitars, pulsing rhythm, and electric drones are more or less what I have come to expect, and this one doesn't disappoint. "Unknown Rembetika," Greg Malcolm's first of a pair of tracks, incorporates Eastern scales and multiple guitars with mystical results. While mostly instrumental, there are a couple of songs with vocals, the first being "Bold/Old" by Pumice. Another is GFrenzy's "Mouth of Bloody Vengeance," which uses distorted elements to great effect and is over much too soon. Antony Milton, who released a fantastically heavy double-disc album as Myrtu! last year, contributes a subterranean vibe with his riveting song, "Drawn Out Fighting." In contrast, Leighton Craig's "Hymn for Agnes Martin" is pleasantly soothing. Peter Wright closes the disc with "Another Gate," deftly combining his 12-string guitar with field recordings to end things on a contemplative yet inspired note. There is quite a bit of cross-pollination going on here, like when Stefan Neville of Pumice and Leighton Craig work together as Blowfly Saint, Pumice's recording of the GFrenzy-penned "Stars," or even the fact that Milton has previously released music by most of these artists on his label Pseudo Arcana. Still, there is no immediate commonality among them, and that this small group of musicians can come up with such distinctly different music is impressive.
Rarely do compilations hold up so well as this one does, and part of the reason may be because the inclusions here reflect a highly selective curatorial process at work, one that doesn't try to overwhelm or impress with sheer quantity. Since this is only a small sampling of the variety of unconventional music to be found in New Zealand, here's hoping that subsequent volumes aren't too far behind.