After two weekends away, the backlog has become immense, so we present a whopping FOUR new episodes for the spooky season!
Episode 717 features Medicine, Fennesz, Papa M, Earthen Sea, Nero, memotone, Karate, ØKSE, Otis Gayle, more eaze, Jon Mueller, and Lauren Auder + Wendy & Lisa.
Episode 718 has The Legendary Pink Dots, Throbbing Gristle, Von Spar / Eiko Ishibashi / Joe Talia / Tatsuhisa Yamamoto, Ladytron, Cate Brooks, Bill Callahan, Jill Fraser, Angelo Harmsworth, Laibach, and Mike Cooper.
Episode 719 music by Angel Bat Dawid, Philip Jeck, A.M. Blue, KMRU, Songs: Ohia, Craven Faults, tashi dorji, Black Rain, The Ghostwriters, Windy & Carl.
Episode 720 brings you tunes from Lewis Spybey, Jules Reidy, Mogwai, Surya Botofasina, Patrick Cowley, Anthony Moore, Innocence Mission, Matt Elliott, Rodan, and Sorrow.
Photo of a Halloween scene in Ogunquit by DJ Jon.
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In recent years, my expectations of what a new Lawrence English album might sound like have gotten increasingly blurry, as he has an admirable tendency to explore new concepts and collaborations that lure him far away from the classic drone fare that initially put him on the map.  Cruel Optimism is arguably a return to English's more straightforward drone work in some ways, but it feels like quite a corroded and scorched return, which certainly fits nicely with English's somewhat dark conceptual inspiration.  Needless to say, it is a characteristically fine album and quite a distinctive one as well, evoking a kind of bleak orchestral grandeur flourishing amidst crumbling ruin and decay.
Cruel Optimism takes its title and some of its inspiration from Lauren Berlant's book of the same name.  I am sure Berlant’s book would be quite hard to succinctly summarize even if I had read it, but English was most fascinated by how she addressed trauma, observing "it was a jumping off point from which a plague of unsettling impressions of suffering, intolerance, and ignorance could be unpacked and utilized as fuel over and above pointless frustration." Wresting beauty from a plague of unsettling impressions is not an easy task, but English had plenty of help from a slew of talented collaborators including Mats Gustafsson, members of Swans, Chris Abrahams from The Necks, and a full choir (Australian Voices).  On paper, a drone artist teaming up with (almost) a couple dozen vocalists, trombonists, pianists, and saxophonists sounds like a perfect recipe for a wildly misguided and overblown mess, but most of the contributors are only present in simmering and understated form.  In fact, it almost sounds like English made two albums: the first was a sweepingly dramatic quasi-symphonic epic, then the second (and final) one was an obliteration of that material.  Aside from the uncharacteristic brass and choral textures, Cruel Optimism sounds a lot like an unusually dense album that English could have made on his own (given enough time...and maybe a trombone).
That said, however, density is definitely one of Cruel Optimism's defining characteristics, as is its stark and foreboding mood.  There are occasionally lulls and crescendos, but Cruel Optimism mostly feels like a sky choked with slow-moving black clouds with only the merest flickers of sunlight breaking through.  Or perhaps like a creeping flow of unpredictably bubbling magma.  The latter image is most strongly evoked by the album’s glorious centerpiece, "Object of Projection," where an elegiac procession of lush synth chords is enhanced by surging washes of hiss.  Another stand-out is the brief "Exquisite Human Microphone," as Gustafsson's subdued and throbbing sax drones unexpectedly erupt into erratic brass swells amidst a drifting haze of strangled howls and processed piano textures. I was also quite fond of "Somnambulist," which builds to a wonderful crescendo of roiling hiss and buried guitar shimmer.  For the most part, however, Cruel Optimism feels like ten variations upon a single dark theme rather than a suite of individual songs. Unsurprisingly, that aesthetic choice has both advantages and disadvantages.  On the one hand, the whole album blurs together into a somewhat monochromatic and glacially unfolding reverie without much in the way of dynamic variation or melody.  On the other, Cruel Optimism feels achieves a kind of bleakly monolithic majesty.  Now that I say that, it belatedly occurs to me that this album is kind of Lawrence English's own Monoliths and Dimensions.
As striking as it is, trying to assess how Cruel Optimism fits into English’s oeuvre is a somewhat tricky endeavor, as I do not think it is quite on the same level as his best work if judged by strictly by "entertainment" considerations such as beauty, listenability, or immersiveness. Viewed as an artistic statement, however, Cruel Optimism is quite a bold and focused move forward.  For one, it is both distinctive and devoid of any obvious outside (musical) influences: it does not sound like a traditional Lawrence English album and it certainly does not resemble anyone else either.  English could easily keep revisiting familiar territory and probably churn out a wonderful, yet straightforward and unchallenging, drone album every year.  Instead, each of his recent albums has felt like an artist restlessly stretching and pushing the boundaries of his aesthetic and some of those experiments work better than others.  To its credit, Cruel Optimism leaves the comfort zone much farther behind than most.  Lawrence English is clearly not a man who is content to repeat himself at this stage in his career.  He is also not a chameleon:  all of the expected Lawrence English tropes are still in place here, but they are presented in almost unrecognizably scorched and blackened form.  That might not be the easiest and most satisfying way to experience English's vision, but this is not the easiest and most satisfying time to be alive and Cruel Optimism is a compelling honest and artistic refraction of that reality.
Disorder marks a few milestones for the band Growing; it is their ninth full length release, in the fifteenth year of their band as well as their first record in almost six years. Though this is their first record in quite some time, this by no means a reunion record. When asked, Joe DeNardo stated "We never 'stopped' doing Growing, it's just that it was tough living on two different coasts. We work kinda slow so I think it just took us a while to adjust to how to make it work with the distances. As Kevin kind of built up his home studio in Olympia over the years, it got to a place where we couldn't NOT use it for Growing - it's such a great isolated spot to hunker down and chisel out some tunes. "
With an entire country between them, Kevin Doria has been focusing his energy on his Total Life project, releasing a handful of releases and touring with Fuck Buttons, GodSpeed You Black Emperor and a host of others. DeNardo has spent the last few years making various music-themed films and performing under the Ornament moniker.
At first listen one may be tempted to refer to this as "return to form" for the band: sonically heavy side-long pastoral excursions being a hallmark of their earlier recordings. But Disorder stands more as a refinement of Growing's evolving sonic palette, employing dissonance as liberally as harmony, delivering the listener's ear to a rather unsettling 'comfort zone'. The effect could be stated as one of submersion. "Kevin's TOTAL LIFE records and live set really inspired me to take a look at a much simpler setup." DeNardo went on to suggest: "I don't think I succeeded necessarily, but the way he maximizes his sound sources really blew me away. And I think it affected what I was recording for Ornament, and so when we got to jamming for the record, it sort of evolved from that. We recorded to 4 track reel-to-reel, it was a pretty minimal setup. It seems like a heavy record to me, these slow, subtle shifts that feel like a bad trip sometimes."
Disorder is neither revival nor bookend for Growing. Over their fifteen year career they've issued records on Kranky, Troubleman Unlimited, The Social Registry and Vice Records; they've touring with the likes of Sunn O)))), Hot Chip, Fuck Buttons, Animal Collective & Gang Gang Dance and have played on five of the seven continents. Disorder is another mile marker on the long open road, both figuratively and literally, Growing have been traversing for years.
Texas duo Steel Hook Prostheses are a decade and a half into their career of blackened electronics and malicious noise, and with each new release they continue to find new spins on their intentionally desolate and unpleasant sound. Calm Morbidity is a consistent, yet diverse record that does different things and goes in varying directions, but never loses focus, and also never lightens the mood.
One asset that SHP has specifically is John Stillings.Besides the work he does under this moniker with bandmate Larry Kerr, he is also an audio engineer and mastering technician, and that technical proficiency shines through the murk on this album.His production gives a depth to these ten pieces that contributes significantly to its distinctive sound and feel.This, and the wildly varying production used on the largely unidentifiable vocals keep each piece sounding unique from one to the next .
On a song such as "Cyclopia," Stillings and Kerr mix a bit of everything:chugging machinery, gargantuan crashes and an uncomfortable electronic buzz form the bulk of the sound.With the duo throwing in a grinding, laser gun like burst of synthesizer, the structure changes from minute to minute."Deep in the Marrow" is another wide array of sounds, from echoing brittle electronics to bizarre noisy outbursts.The vocals, heavily processed to a guttural, ugly mimicry of human voice has a spoken word delivery, but not at all decipherable.
"Cancer Maiden" is another diverse mix of rumbling synthesizers and abrasive electronics, with bizarrely organic sounds appearing throughout, covering a lot of different territories, all blackened.For "Stranguary," the duo employ surging synths and blasting noises to make for a structurally solid power electronics work, with bent vocals and a strange, unsettlingly quiet ending.At times the sound almost dabbles into the more conventionally musical:"Hand of Glory" (surely a nod to the Ramleh classic) is built from an almost melodic sequencer progression, with heavily processed vocals taking center stage.As a whole there is a greater sense of structure as for as conventional musicality goes, but one that is aggressive and unrelenting.
The mood may be a bit stiff on Calm Morbidity, but Steel Hook Prostheses manage to do a hell of a lot of diverse things within that rigidly morose framework.The vast sonic array utilized, from violent ranting to depressive plods are wonderfully punctuated with a complex mix of electronics and noise.The production and technical side of this album are what makes it really shine, giving an exceptional depth and variety to the record, resulting in a disc that reveals more and more as the dirt and grime is brushed away.
David Reed's newest album as Envenomist may be a collection of six songs, but the presentation and consistency between them seems more akin to a long from composition broken into distinct pieces. His bleak analog synthesizer works have been notable as a recent member of Bloodyminded, and as part of the trio Nightmares with Mark Solotroff and Jonathan Canady, but here he is in sole control. Perhaps due to it being a fully solo excursion or his compositional intent, the arrangement is sparse but strong, and the final product is a bleak synthesizer creep that hints at film score but is an entity entirely unto itself.
The opening moments of "Mirrors" set the stage well:a tinny synth first appears from the darkness, slowly surging in volume and taking on more and more force.Reed adds additional layers of electronics to build tension, but drifts out of control in order for Reed to maintain the menacing edge."Equinox" is similarly structured, building from a thin metallic synth noise and richer drone.It is comparably more impressive and has a clearly sinister quality to it, but one that is captivating rather than off-putting.
Reed may keep "Shockwave" an overall more skeletal structure, but he expands greatly from its grinding keyboard foundation.There is a sense of lurk throughout, as synth strings give a tension-building edge to the creepy space he creates.His small electronic accents and icy buzzing keep it from being dull dark ambient bleakness.A heavy sense of synthetic strings comes through on "Two Kings" as well, with the production giving an overall more organic sound to the electronics, which makes for an even darker proposition.Here Reed sticks to the middle and higher register sounds, and the complex layering generates tension perfectly.
Both of the side-ending pieces are more focused on low end sounds, however.A bassy lurch drives the overall hushed "Kraken Mare," staying just far enough in the distance to not overwhelm, but also to keep the tension there and not relenting.Shimmering passages and frigid moments pass through like hints of light in an otherwise overwhelming abyss."The Thaw" is a fitting conclusion to the album both in sound and title.Again Reed keeps the low end throbbing, but the mix more open.The buzzing synth becomes the focus at times, but instead he closes the album on a surprisingly quiet note.
For most of Bleeding Out, David Reed keeps to the same primary synthesizers and largely similar patches on them, giving a clear consistency from one piece to the next.As a nod to his ability as a composer and performer, however, never do the songs too easily run together or sound too similar to one another.Instead the similarity mostly serves to unite the pieces, coming across more like a lengthy single work that captures a variety of sinister moods.That singular consistency serves to make Bleeding Out a continually fascinating album of building tension that never relents, and it is all the stronger for that fact.
Why El Paso Sky is the upcoming mixtape on Holodeck by Austin, Texas’ own VVV (Shawhin Izaddoost), serving as a way to whet the appetite for his upcoming full length record later this year. Here we present the premiere of "Talking in the Dark," both in the recent Brainwashed Podcast(Episode 341) and here directly.
"Talking in the Dark" is an excellent teaser for what Izaddoost will be delivering on both the tape and his release later in 2017. From its sweeping opening synths that herald the foundation rattling beats and rapid melodic lead that quickly follow, VVV covers an infinitely complex array of sounds and vibes in the span of a few short minutes. With a lush, ambient breakdown that quickly jumps right back into the rhythms, both Izaddoost's prowess in building memorable rhythms and his nuanced, complex approach to production and mixing are clearly at the forefront. Look for the limited mixtape Why El Paso Sky to be released on March 10, 2017 on the Holodeck label, and more new work to follow later this year.
Why El Paso Sky is the upcoming mixtape on Holodeck by Austin, Texas' own VVV (Shawhin Izaddoost), serving as a way to whet the appetite for his upcoming full length record later this year. Here we present the premiere of "Talking in the Dark," both in the recent Brainwashed Podcast(Episode 341) and here directly.
"Talking in the Dark" is an excellent teaser for what Izaddoost will be delivering on both the tape and his release later in 2017. From its sweeping opening synths that herald the foundation rattling beats and rapid melodic lead that quickly follow, VVV covers an infinitely complex array of sounds and vibes in the span of a few short minutes. With a lush, ambient breakdown that quickly jumps right back into the rhythms, both Izaddoost's prowess in building memorable rhythms and his nuanced, complex approach to production and mixing are clearly at the forefront. Look for the limited mixtape Why El Paso Sky to be released on March 10, 2017 on the Holodeck label, and more new work to follow later this year.
Forest is a composer based in Los Angeles, California. His work focuses on deconstruction of mythologies of sound. He prefers his burgers medium rare, his TV from the year 2000 with a strong female lead, and his reverb tails a little longer than maybe he should. He holds a master’s in Composition and Music Theory from NYU and currently an engineering position at Hans Zimmer's Remote Control Productions.
Together with composer/synthesist John Also Bennett, he forms Seabat, an electronic music outfit with an eight album discography that presented the live score to Green Red in the Archway Under the Manhattan Bridge and has collaborated in performances with Brusselsbased composer Christina Vantzou. He is the progenitor of concept projects Eternal Prom and Tiffany’s Collections, and some of his short film scores can be heard on the 2014 album Shorts.
Recently he has co-mixed with Alan Meyerson Zimmer’s score for the BBC’s Planet Earth II, assisted on the mix of the upcoming Kong: Skull Island score by Henry Jackman, and is currently composing an original score for the upcoming Sri Lankan art-house film House of My Fathers.
The follow up to Light In The Attic's game-changing I Am The Center box set is finally here. The Microcosm: Visionary Music Of Continental Europe, 1970-1986 is the first major overview of key works from cosmically-taped in artists needing little introduction — Vangelis, Ash Ra Tempel, and Popol Vuh — and unknown masterpieces by criminally overlooked heroes like Bernard Xolotl, Robert Julian Horky and Enno Velthuys.
Whereas I Am The Center called for a reconsideration of an entire maligned genre, The Microcosm requests nothing more than an open mind to consider this ambient, new age, neuzeit, prog, krautrock, cosmic, holistic stuff, whatever one calls it — as a pulsating movement unto itself, a mirror refracting the American new age scene in unexpected, electrifying ways, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt the universality of the timeless quest to express “the Ineffable” through music.
Drawing from major label budgets and homemade cassette distributed circumstances alike, The Microcosm demonstrates a depth of peace profound to behold, and clearly expands the boundaries. Lovingly conceived and lavishly presented by producer Douglas Mcgowan (Yoga Records) and liner notes contributor Jason Patrick Woodbury (Pitchfork, Aquarium Drunkard), The Microcosm features stunning cover paintings by Étienne Trouvelot, and labels by Finnish savant Aleksanda Ionowa.
Locusts and Gegenschein follow up the highly acclaimed Music for Church Cleaners release from Irish artist Áine O’Dwyer. Whilst continuing to explore the church organ as the primary instrument, these two releases steer away from Church Cleaners in both sonic content and themes explored.
Recorded & performed in 2015 at St James’s Church, Barrow-in-Furness, England & The First Unitarian Congregational Society Church, Brooklyn Heights, New York, Locusts presents itself as a celebration of the pipe organ’s acoustical abilities of tapping into electronic pulses along with O’Dwyer’s liturgical memories which are at times, pushed into horrorthon states.
Gegenschein was recorded at the Franciscan Friary in Limerick city. Áine gained access to the Friary in 2012 and explored both pipe organ and space in it’s disused state. What becomes of a sacred space after the dispersion of the spirit, after the light has been switched off, after the deconsecration?
Future music duo Second Woman's sophomore full-length for Spectrum Spools further hones their distinctive fusion of shapeshifting software sculpture and tessellated footwork. Shivering digital textures oscillate with and against algorithmically mapped percussion samples; smeared synthetic chords levitate in the distance; stabs of digital noise punctuate the mix in twitchy, time-distorting patterns. Their anamorphosis verges on ascetic: stark, splintered waveforms rendered into unique fiber optic hieroglyphs.
Multi-instrumentalists Josh Eustis and Turk Dietrich share a deep history going back to their days in the New Orleans ambient electronic community, as part of Telefon Tel Aviv and Belong, respectively. Even so, S/W pushes beyond their combined discographies to date, flexing impossibilities, building rhythms from arrhythmia, teasing veiled emotion from bold iterations of cold code.