14 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Edition of 250 copies in tipped-on sleeves with Japanese obi, insert and postcard. Entirely handmade sleeve edition of Painted Screens – designed & assembled at Impression Lointaine.

In this album (originally released in 2014), newly remastered for this vinyl edition, Andrew Chalk plays musical arrangements along with Federico Durand, Daisuke & Naoko Suzuki, Francis Plagne & Timo Van Luijk.

Music box : intimate music with a large palette of instruments ; Voices and sounds, mixed feelings and mysteries…A window opened on travelling memories, half-awakened thoughts and shared moments – dreamed and nocturnal wandering atmospheres, with undulating rays sporadically lighting a subconscious painting.

More information can be found here.

14 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

L'etat intermediaire (the intermediate state) began amidst the ending points of A Paper Doll's Whisper of Spring (FP 022 : recorded 2012) and was further inspired by some live performances in Leuven and London using mostly acoustical instrumentation.  L'etat intermediare collects 10 pieces recorded over four years and into a narrative of personal journeys using some collected sounds, clarinets, string and keyboard instruments.

“Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the sky,
I heard a voice within the tavern cry,
Awake, my little ones, and fill the cup
Before Life's Liquor in its cup be dry”

More information can be found here.

10 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Released to commemorate one year since legendary artist Mika Vainio’s passing, long time fan and collaborator Richard Chartier has created a fitting tribute to the artist, his legacy, and also his undeniable influence on Chartier’s own work. The final product is less of an overt tribute, at least in sound, and functions more as a knowing homage that synergizes the core elements of Vainio's lengthy body of art via Chartier's undeniably nuanced and complex aesthetic.

Line

Chartier has stated that it was Vainio's work: solo, with Pan Sonic, and in the Ø and Philus guises, that reignited his career in experimental electronic music after a three year break some 20 years ago.The parallels in their art are distinctly different, but very much complementary.Vainio’s focus was often more rhythmic in nature, and sometimes challenging and harsh, but his use of clean, pure tones and electronic spaces can clearly be heard in Chartier's solo work, as well as via his Pinkcourtesyphone project.

The 40+ minute "Central" is subtle in its opening minutes:buzzing electronics, crackling static, and wide open spaces.White noise and wet distortion eventually are introduced, cutting through the digital fragments and otherwise fill the mix.Like Vainio's work, Chartier trades extensively in ultra high tinnitus-like frequencies that come and go, at times lying in the furthest reaches of human hearing.Unsurprisingly, this can be a bit unpleasant at times, but fitting since the result is not unlike some of Pan Sonic’s best work.

Eventually Chartier brings the mid-range up in more sustained passages, with a subtle bit of pulsation that could almost pass for a rhythm.He adjusts the diverging layers:tones, static, pulses, all things that appeared in Vainio’s work.Here, however, they are presented almost clinically, dissected out to study their most basic elements.Crackles of interference are melded into pseudo-rhythms as tightly compacted, sustained drones underscore the proceedings.After a lengthy section of shimmering, metallic electronics, the sound becomes hollower, almost mournful, as the piece comes to its quiet, sparse conclusion.

In comparison, the shorter "Unquiet" has a strong flow to it, but not the same extent of drastic shifts and evolution that can be heard in "Central".Chartier immediately creates a force to be reckoned with:cascading, stuttering electronics and stuttering noise surge out with more force than I am used to from his work.Here he clearly captures the more chaotic side of Vainio’s sound in the form of heavy fuzz and some low-end heavy rumbling layers.The essential components to "Unquiet" stay in place for most of the piece, so the sense of change is less prominent than it was on "Central", but within the confines of a seven minute composition this is no detriment at all.To mix things up, Chartier closes with a bit of interference and a lovely mournful bit of ambience that fits the intent of the album perfectly.

One of the reasons Richard Chartier excels with Central (for M. Vainio) is that he pays a fitting, reverential tribute to Mika Vainio and his enduring influence, but by emphasizing said influence more than an emulation or an unnecessary attempt direct interpretation.Themes from all of Vainio's body of work are here, but translated and interpreted through Chartier's understated, careful touch as a brilliant composer.There are some other moments that are not quite so subtle, especially throughout the aptly titled "Unquiet", but these act as a perfect synergy between Vainio’s more abrasive tendencies filtered through Chartier’s thoughtful deliberateness.The result is a loving tribute that illuminates the linkage between the two legendary sound artists as best as anything could.

samples:

• Central (Excerpt One)
• Central (Excerpt Two)
• Unquiet

 

10 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Although has a lengthy career, Brooklyn's Bob Bellerue has sat comfortably in the fringes of a fragmented noise and experimental scene. His newest release, All In, is a nicely limited tape edition that captures two distinctly different performances, one from 2011 and the other from 2014, which features him emphasizing some notably different styles from his body of work, although the final product makes for an entirely cohesive release that feels as much as a conceptual album as it would a set of two live performances three years apart.

Anarchymoon

The first half of this tape, "Redglaer @ Port D’Or 02/19/11" is the more overtly noise oriented of the two performances.Right from the opening moments he makes this clear:an abstract mechanical clatter is soon shaped into a violent, distorted buzz that at least superficially sounds like the work of an entire tabletop of guitar pedals.Throughout this, Bellerue maintains the noise standard of overdriven crunchy bass frequencies and shrill, barely regulated feedback even as he changes things up.

While it is unrelenting, he clearly has some control over this seemingly chaotic mass of sound, shifting frequencies and densities the whole time keeping things fresh and dynamic throughout.Heavy white noise washes precede sputtering, dying airplane engines and, as the piece goes on, he seems to struggle as to if he cannot decide if he prefers to emphasize the pummeling low end scrape or the shrill, brittle static.By the end the latter seems to win out, with him concluding the piece (and performance) via piercing feedback and painful, grinding power saws.

On the other half of the tape, "Blessed Thistle @ Babycastles 07/05/14" is a different Bellerue, at least at first.The heavy noise is more of a seasoning than a main course, as the first few minutes are dedicated to an idiosyncratic vibraphone like rhythmic passage that extends for a while, demonstrating more calm and restraint than the other half.There is a greater sense of peace at this point, but it is obvious that the harsher stuff is looming just beneath the surface.

Of course, this soon explodes outward, and the full on ripping, pulsating distortion and noise explodes to the surface.Again, his performance is exceptionally dynamic, blending the sustained noise outbursts together and cutting them up into aggressive, harsh stammering patterns.As it goes on, he adds more and more elements, like what sounds like digitally mangled voices, immense warning sirens, and explosive blasts to a mix that becomes denser and heavier until collapsing under its own weight and ending the piece with a jarring abruptness.

All In captures two different sides of Bob Bellerue:the side that has a strong focus on complex sound art structures, and the side that relishes the result of cranking a gain knob up as high as it goes and appreciating the ugliness that results.I think that, given this is a pair of live performances, the latter half of his style ends up being the dominant one, but that is not to say it is not a well rounded release.Instead these two different disciplines meld together nicely and, with his ability to keep things dynamic and moving, pushes it beyond being just another noise cassette.

samples:

• Redglaer
• Blessed Thistle (Excerpt One)
• Blessed Thistle (Excerpt Two)

 

10 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Recently given an much-needed reissue by Ecstatic, Circular Forms (2015) is Abul Mogard’s lone proper full-length album amidst a slow trickle of cassettes, splits, and compilation appearances. When I first heard it, I was admittedly a bit disappointed as it felt considerably less unique and revelatory than the earlier, more industrial-influenced pieces collected on Works. I have since warmed to it quite a bit, however, as "The Half-Light of Dawn" is an achingly beautiful masterpiece of simmering and haunted-sounding post-apocalyptic drone. Mogard also does a stellar job at channeling the cosmic dread of prime Tangerine Dream at one point. The rest of the album is quite enjoyable as well, but it sometimes has a bit of an uneven and transitional feel that reveals Mogard's influences and occupies more well-established aesthetic terrain than some of his iconoclastic earlier releases.

Ecstatic

The album opens in somber and understated fashion with "Slate-Colored Storm," which is essentially just a murky and submerged-sounding melodic loop that languorously unfolds beneath a series of slow-motion washes of bleak synth chords.Naturally, that elegant simplicity suits the piece quite well, establishing a glacial momentum and darkly soulful foundation for Mogard's peripheral activities.In that regard, he proves to be an absolute sorcerer at controlling tension and ingeniously transforming textures, effectively erasing all trace of himself to create a vivid, powerful, and organically unfolding scene."Slate-Colored Storm" feels like time has slowed to an absolute crawl and a mournful and decayed tape loop is obsessively playing and re-playing the same broken melody as geysers of scorching lava erupt from the earth around it.There is nothing that feels like a man playing a synthesizer in that tableau at all, as everything feels ruined, corroded, decayed, and unreal in a profound way, as if the scene is playing out as a vision of the future that occurs long after Mogard has been reduced to dust.The following "Bound Universe," on the other hand, feels like a sincere homage to Tangerine Dream at their heaviest and most inhumanly futuristic, unfolding as a churning and dense synth juggernaut that surges relentlessly forward amidst a gnarled storm of rumbling drones and sizzling noise.Both pieces are legitimately wonderful.

The following "Half Light at Dawn" is the album's achingly gorgeous heart though, resembling a lush elegy for humanity composed by a heartbroken robot. I am truly awe-struck by the intensity of emotion that Mogard is able to wring out of circuits and wires, as "Dawn" is a moaning, whimpering, and undulating feast of bleary melodies and deep, sizzling washes of chords amidst an otherworldly haze of ghostly afterimages and flickering spectres.It is absolutely pitch-perfect in every way, slowly and wearily accumulating immense power through slow-burning repetition before quietly disappearing once more into silence.I would be hard-pressed to imagine anything that could satisfyingly follow such a sublime and crushingly beautiful piece, but Mogard gamely tries by closing the album with the epic "House on the River" (at nearly 17-minutes, it is roughly as long as everything that came before it combined).Lamentably, it is my least favorite piece on the album, yet Mogard is still operating on quite a high plane–even his less-inspired work offers some understated and singular delights.For the most part though, "House on the River" is merely a decent bit of slow-moving synth drone, as a succession of billowing chords steadily flows forward with minimal variation or evolution.Buried in the depths, however, lies a single nagging note that keeps endlessly (if faintly) pulsing beneath it all, imbuing an otherwise straightforward piece with the sense that it is merely a veil concealing something more elemental and mysterious.Sadly, that veil never lifts, but it is significant that even Mogard's rare forays into well-traveled territory hint at being something far more than that.

It would certainly be reasonable to describe Circular Forms as Mogard's ambient album, but it represents more of a shift and expansion in focus than a radical transformation.This vein has always run through Mogard's work, so the most significant advance was merely that he decided to release an entire album devoted to his more slow-moving and meditative side.At this stage in his career, however, Mogard's meditative side was still quite an eerily bleak and haunting place to be, evoking the Zen-like calm of the last human gazing sadly at a scorched and ravaged landscape (he has brightened his tone considerably since).There is a lonely beauty mingled with deep sadness here, yet the best moments of Circular Forms burrow deep enough to achieve something of a transcendent rapture.That latter part is crucial, as Mogard's work is not oppressively sad at all–the path to heaven just happens to be unexpectedly dark one.

10 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

For some reason, this long-running project from English guitarist Andy Cartwright has stayed largely under my radar until now, despite my occasional brushes with his work through various blogs and his splits with Dean McPhee and Loscil. This latest release, Seabuckthorn's ninth, is deeply influenced by Cartwright's rustic and mountainous new surroundings in the Southern Alps, yet his work has always had an earthy, widescreen grandeur. As I am only casually familiar with the rest of the Seabuckthorn oeuvre, I cannot confidently state that Cartwright's new environment or recent focus on textural experimentation have radically transformed his work, but A House With Too Much Fire definitely feels like an especially strong showing. Much like the aforementioned McPhee, Cartwright has carved out a sublime and alternately haunting and gorgeous niche all his own, far transcending my expectations of what a lone guitarist can achieve (though Cartwright certainly embraces a much more expansive palette than his peers).

Bookmaker/La Cordillère

I am not quite sure what I expected from this album, but I am absolutely certain that whatever vague expectations I had were either transcended or outright wrong.This is quite a curious and fascinating album to try to wrap my head around, as Cartwright seems to be equal parts visionary and chameleon.It is easy to see how Seabuckthorn acquired such a devoted cult following over the years though, as Cartwright's inspiration burns quite brightly during the album's best moments, occasionally calling to mind the timeless, elemental power of prime Richard Skelton.More often, however, Cartwright feels like a kindred spirit to iconoclastic American composer and Lost Tribe label mate William Ryan Fritch, as the two artists channel very similar strains of melancholy and cinematic Americana (though Fritch is considerably more eclectic these days).Along with Aaron Martin and Western Skies Motel, the two seem like the incipient vanguard of an unnamed movement that I will tentatively dub The Haunted West which inventively blurs the lines between folk, modern composition, and atmospheric post-rock a la Mogwai and Explosions In The Sky.The finest example of that vein on A House With Too Much Fire is probably "It Was Aglow," which unfolds as a mournful cascade of banjo arpeggios that casts off a spark-like spray of spectral, delay-heavy ripples."What The Shepherds Call Ghosts" is similarly dazzling, as Cartwright unleashes a roiling web of rapidly picked arpeggios as a gently plucked melody winds its way through a rattling and moaning gauntlet of tormented strings.If the whole album had expanded that aesthetic into a focused vision, A House With Too Much Fire would likely be a stone-cold masterpiece.The rest of the album occasionally does delve further into that theme beautifully (the title piece, "Sent in by the Cold," etc.), yet Cartwright's mercurial muse led him in some other interesting directions as well, resulting in a bit more of a complicated and shifting affair.

In some cases, Cartwright's divergence from the expected path pays off beautifully, as the slowly churning string elegy of "Somewhat Like Vision" burrows even deeper into the past to evoke a deep, primeval sadness that predates anything resembling America.Elsewhere, "Disentangled" is a foray into languorous and lyrical Eastern-tinged desert blues."Figure Afar" is yet another departure of sorts, as Cartwright sets aside his guitar and banjo for a churning reverie of mournful bowed strings.Unfortunately, there is also one perplexing misstep that continues to mystify me: "Inner."It is not necessarily a bad piece, though it admittedly errs on the side of meandering and improvisatory-sounding.The more significant issue is the strange decision to include a gently burbling and plodding synth backdrop, which transforms an otherwise unmemorable interlude into something that breaks the album's timeless and hallucinatory spell and unceremoniously drops me back in the present.Thankfully, Cartwright's rare dubious decisions are completely eclipsed by everything that he does exactly right, as my appreciation for House deepens with each fresh listen.In particular, I am struck the sheer craftsmanship and intuitive genius for texture and dynamics displayed on pieces like "Somewhat Like Vision," as Cartwright has the nuance and lightness of touch to weave a dreamlike state, yet also grasps exactly when to allow a crucial note to viscerally carve through the mist.He also brings a deep soul and quiet intensity to his vision, as these pieces do not just evoke desolate prairies and forgotten towns like a soundtrack composer might–Cartwright instead conjures imagined places that feel pregnant with enough mystery and hidden meaning to linger in my mind long after the album has ended.

A House With Too Much Fire is quietly beguiling in deeper, more abstract ways as well.For example, Cartwright has reached a Zen-like plane of casual virtuosity in which the desire to compose something beautiful supplants any ego-driven need to showcase his playing (a feat that is all too rare among technically proficient musicians).When a piece calls for it, Cartwright is certainly game to unleash a dazzling and intricate flurry of notes, but he is just as content to craft a slow-moving and impressionistic scene from ghostly smears of harmonics, feedback, and string drones ("Blackout").On a larger scale, I am also quite impressed with Cartwright's vision in general, as he deftly avoids crossing the blurry line that would make House feel like at all like a soundtrack (though "Submerged Past" errs on that side).For the most part, however, A House With Too Much Fire never feels like an imagined accompaniment to a film in Cartwright's mind.Rather, it feels like it is that film.The difference is subtle, I suppose, but it has massive implications when it comes to how much I love an album and I mostly love this one.It is not quite a perfect whole, yet the highlights are legitimately amazing: pieces like "It was Aglow" and "Somewhat Like Vision" masterfully weave vividly realized worlds that swirl with beauty, mystery, and ineffable sadness.

 

09 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Deluxe edition of Ian William Craig's landmark debut album A Turn of Breath in its final form. Includes an additional LP of unpublished material.

• Final Edition of 1000 pressed on black wax
• Gatefold jacket with new artwork by Ian William Craig
• Additional LP that holds the Short of Breath EP (a limited CDr included with first copies of ATOB in 2014), and the unreleased Fresh Breath collection.

"As if some lovelorn romantic troubadour had been summoned forth from the recording of séances on old shellac 78s" – MOJO

"A classically trained opera singer who buries his voice in desiccated, decaying loops" – ROLLING STONE

"a powerfully blurry canvas of hymn, chant and drone, through multi-tracking, echo, looping,
abrasions and erasures." – NEW YORK TIMES

"This is a truly brilliant album – inhale it now." – THE GUARDIAN

"Ian William Craig pulled breath from night and made a voice." – TINY MIX TAPES

More information can be found here.

09 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Norman Westberg is perhaps best recognised for his truly individual approach to guitar with the band SWANS. His playing with SWANS has influenced a generation of musicians across genres. His particular approaches to that instrument, in creating both harmony and brute force, have challenged and ultimately informed a great many players.

His new solo record, After Vacation, is his first full length to come in the wake of the final SWANS outing in its current configuration. More importantly it is also the first record to see Westberg move beyond a more performative mode of single take composition.

After Vacation sees Westberg significantly expand his sonic palette. He opens up the tonal and harmonic possibilities of his instrument in unexpected and profoundly beautiful ways. His guitar, as singular source, becomes transformed through a web of outboard processes. He transforms vibrating strings completely, taking singular gesture and reshapes it through webs of delay, reverb and other treatments.

Moreover he finds a new sense of space and dimension with these recordings. After Vacation has a decidedly more topographic sense. It charts out the dark contours of places unseen but imagined. It traverses a divergent range of places in search of a ever opening compositional approach.

The results are in excess of anything Westberg has created previously. His melodic capacities come to the fore; matching his distinctly personal approach to the textural qualities of his instrument.

More information can be found here.

03 June 2018

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Not long after bemoaning the lack of full-length releases from Matt Weston (following a string of excellent 7"s) he quickly announced This Is Your Rosemont Horizon, a full length LP of two side-long compositions. Following the patterns set forth in his singles, both are ever changing pieces rich with electronics, guitar, and of course unconventional percussion that shift and change with every minute that goes by, never stagnating or even sitting still, resulting in a fascinating suite of complex electro-acoustic composition and exploration.

7272music

Even in the more limited single format, Weston’s pieces always shifted and evolved often drastically, even within the limited duration of the format.On here, with more time to work with this variability is even more pronounced.Matt's jerky glitch electronics that open "Special Apparatus for Coercion" lead the proceedings with a stammer; an off-kilter opening that sets a woozy mood for what follows.He punctuates the electronics with some heavy cavernous pulsations before allowing the remaining layers fully come into focus.Shrill scrapes are cast out above a layer of dramatic, tympani-like drumming, creating a sense of high drama and tension.

Of course Weston is quick to switch things up, and soon he devolves the piece into a swarm of pitch-bent tones and roughly strummed guitar.This eventually transitions into a strange paring of tense, bowed strings and deep bass, two very different sounds that work perfectly together.Before finally concluding the piece he throws in some cheap, brittle electronics run through odd processing, cut-up voices, clattering bells, and eventually some big guitar riffs before dropping everything with an abrupt conclusion.

For the other side of the record, Weston introduces "A Simple Machine Without a Machine" with shrill scraping sounds which leap out front. He eventually melds with uncomfortable guttural noises and sustained tonal drones, wonderfully juxtaposing layers of jerky, cut-up passages with elongated and sustained drones to excellent effect.Unspecific processed sounds are cast in an out and, despite its seemingly chaotic nature, the overall feel is that Weston allows a bit more breathing room here compared to the other side, although the tension is still palpable.

Eventually he develops a junky sense of rhythm here, not unlike some of Merzbow's earliest works as the piece drifts off further and further into chaos.Eventually it becomes a pastiche of all sorts of sounds, vacillating between bent fragments of melody and free jazz freak-outs that mesh together wonderfully.Towards the end, the piece trails off to its inevitable conclusion, closing on an outburst of malfunctioning electronics and complex metallic drone.

Compared to his recent single Searchlight Swings, This is Your Rosemont Horizon is a bit darker, a bit heavier, but no less amazing.It is distinctly the work of Matt Weston, but perhaps it is the time or setting, but there is a greater sense of desolation it would seem.However, he plays off this tension extremely well, weaving together idiosyncratic electronics and unconventional percussion like no other composer or performer does.It may not be as quirky as some of his other material, but the gravitas adds an additional asset to an already exceptional record.

samples:

• Special Apparatus for Coercion (Excerpt 1)
• Special Apparatus for Coercion (Excerpt 2)
• A Simple Machine Without a Machine

 

03 June 2018

Creaig Dunton

Albums and Singles

This week Brainwashed and SIGE Records are proud to premiere "Reconciliation," (MP3 download here), a song from the upcoming 2xLP by Black Spirituals entitled Black Access/Black Axes.

The pairing of Zachary James Watkins (guitar and electronics) and Marshall Trammell (percussion) have created another masterpiece, and their final collaboration in this arrangement. Reclaiming the core fundamentals of jazz and rock and roll, but completely recontextualizing them in a distinctly modern framework, Black Spirituals are an entirely unique entity in the world of experimental music. While Black Access/Black Axes is a multifaceted and varied album, "Reconciliation" is an excellent summation: Watkins generates a constantly building squall of noise and distortion, but never lets his guitar be lost in the mix, as Trammell deliberately enters the frame, transitioning from subtle cymbal accents to sharp, cracking snares that pierce powerfully through the psychedelic haze. To call the dynamic intense would be a serious understatement, culminating in a brilliantly heavy, ecstatic crescendo that is nothing short of amazing. Black Access/Black Axes is presented in a deluxe 2xLP gatefold record, limited to 300 copies, and will be released July 6, 2018 via SIGE.