Being thankful for an earful.
Brand new music by Marie Davidson, Niecy Blues (feat. Joy Guidry), CEL, Marisa Anderson and Luke Schneider, Stina Stjern, Carmen Villain, Murcof, A Lily, and Far Golden Pavilions, with music from the vaults by Tomaga, Ozzobia, Jan Jelinek.
Sushi photo by Lindsay.
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As elements of New Orleans Bounce music has been slowly drifting outside of its largely southern borders, Big Freedia, also known as Freddie Ross, has become the unofficial ambassador for the genre, making various high profile TV appearances and rather memorable live performances.  Just Be Free is his first true full-length album, and has the polish that could gain new fans, but never strays far from his roots and manages to stay undeniably fun.
The bounce music scene is an insular one to say the least.Largely centered in New Orleans, performers stick to the same sampled loops ("Drag Rap" by The Showboys), a repetitive, shouting vocal style based heavily in repetition and delay, and a lyrical focus on ass shaking.In-roads have been made based on appearances in HBO's Treme and, probably most disgracefully, Miley Cyrus' televised twerking performance (twerking as a dance is heavily associated with bounce, but existed before in the late 1980s Miami Bass scene as booty clapping, and surely before that in different forms). Unexpected attempts at crossover have happened as well, with Big Freedia having a brief stint opening for the Postal Service, befuddling the indie crowd who now may react more positively in an attempt to retain their hipster credibility.
Anyone with a passing familiarity with his previous work will easily be able to tell that this is a record aimed at garnering wider recognition, if for no other reason than the polished production and variation in material.It also tends to have lighter disposition than the sexually explicit "Walk Wit a Dip" and "Big Freddie Kay Ready," or the underlying violence of "Gin in my System."The exception may be the oddly fatalistic "Shake, wiggle, work/now kill yourself," part of "Dangerous," which stands out surprisingly dark amongst the upbeat remainder of the song.
As a whole, the production on the first half of the album sticks to the genre tropes of high BPMs and stuttering vocal samples, but with a greater implementation of synths to keep things from being as overly same-y as many of Freedia's contemporaries.This results in some entertaining misdirection:"N.O. Bounce" might start out with some uncomfortably cheesy horns, but soon comes together in a battery of delays and razor-sharp beats that are enjoyably raw, but underscored by a simple, house piano backing."Jump On It" starts a bit obnoxiously pop, but develops into a mix heavily focused on bass and Morse code, peppered with jazz horn samples.
Most of the second half of the album fits in better with the rawer singles from before, heavily focused on that sped up 808 drum loop and old school orchestra hits sampled from the Showboys."Explode" is probably the most dramatic example of this, all stabby beats and Big Freedia's aggressive, boisterous vocals slipping into dancehall toasting, but avoiding what could be problematic repetition.
The album's oddest moment comes at the end, and I would not characterize it as a misstep but rather an odd and unexpected side-step."Mo Azz," a reworking of "Azz Everywhere," drops the rapid bounce pace of the original and dials the BPMs down to the double digits, with some chopped and screwed effects and conventional hip-hop production.It is not necessarily a bad version, but just feels like an odd choice, given the original was one of his most aggressive and energetic performances slowed down so much.
The best moments have far more in common with difficult music than it would seem on the surface.The aggressive vocals, repetitive sampling, and harsh rhythms are not all that dissimilar from some of the noisier industrial music in my collection.What may superficially just seem like a bunch of songs about dancing has its own idiosyncratic sense of dissonance that manages to cross-over into less conventional styles as well as traditional ones.What it boils down to it is just plain fun:the energy is undeniable, and it is quite obvious that it is the intended purpose of the record.Not everything has to be challenging or difficult as far as music goes for me.
The cynic in me of course wonders if this current interest in Big Freedia is one based in novelty:he is an openly gay, gender non-conformist who identifies as male but presents feminine who sings songs about shaking asses.I personally cannot even say my initial listening was immune from that, if for nothing else than the fact that orders to "shake one's butt" are coming from a different place than the traditional objectification/misogynistic one (although it should be noted that butts are not gender specific, and his shows feature male and female dancers simultaneously).Sexual and gender politics aside, Big Freedia is an exceptional performer of the genre, carefully traversing the intentional repetition with just the right amount of variation, while keeping songs just long enough to be satisfying, but not so long as they overstay their welcome (a common problem in a genre more tuned to a live performance than recorded medium).Even though Just Be Free may be poised for mainstream recognition, there is enough here to keep weirdos like me entertained as well.
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After what almost seemed like a begrudging festival reunion to play Streetcleaner, it was exciting to see that the pieces were coming together for a true Godflesh reunion, and even more so when the likelihood of new material appearing got higher and higher. Unexpectedly announced as a precursor to the upcoming full-length album, Decline & Fall sounds as if it could have been recorded around 1993 through 1995, because it has such archetypical Godflesh sound, which is reassuring to say the least.
These four songs (none of which are expected to appear on A World Lit Only by Fire this fall) rigidly stick to that early Godflesh template of Justin Broadrick's screeching, barely controlled guitar harmonics, chugging riffs, Ben Green's blown speaker-cabinet bass and the rigid, unflinching percussion of a drum machine (which sounds like it is still the venerable Alesis SR-16).There are no surprises or unexpected diversions to be heard, likely because Broadrick has compartmentalized all of his favorite genres into their own specific projects.Godflesh is pretty much officially reserved now for just industrial tinged metal sounds.
I have mixed feelings about this, because I find many of my favorite Godflesh songs to be the ones that push out of those boundaries, like the (post)punk-y Tiny Tears EP, the techno-tinged Slavestate and the glorious untitled bonus song hidden at the end of Hymns.At the same time, though, anyone who followed Godflesh knows the identity crisis that started happening at the hip-hop influenced Songs of Love and Hate into the dour electronics of Us and Them (which I feel, while not perfect, is very underrated) and the straight forward, bland metal of Hymns lead to diminishing returns.
Which is why I pegged Decline & Fall as sounding specifically from that aforementioned timeline, because it was then their sound was most consistent."Ringer" is not far removed from the rock tinged from Selfless, but lacking that sterile, clinical sheen that at first turned me away, and then endeared that record to me.It is a bit less depressive than Selfless, but darker than Messiah and its prototypical groove direction, channeling the aggression that Broadrick had been holding back on the Jesu records.
The hip-hop drum machine shuffle blended with the idiosyncratic guitar melodies and barked/growled vocals of "Dogbite" resemble a further refinement to the sound of Pure, but livelier and more energetic in comparison, and more than a passing resemblance to "Mothra.""Playing with Fire," on the other hand, sticks with the bleak, depressive Godflesh sound that arose heavily on Us and Them, but without the electronics, and an overall arrangement more consistent with the Selfless era and a good pairing of Broadrick's singing/screaming vocal dynamic.
The title song is perhaps where the album stands out the most unique: a frenetic jerky rhythm that bounces between slow to fast with Broadrick’s guttural vocals.The voice sounds like a conscious attempt for a Streetcleaner throwback, but the music itself is harder to pin down, with a constantly changing tempo and melodic passages, but sounds definitively like Godflesh.Both the Japanese Daymare pressing and the digital download direct from Avalanche include two bonus dub remixes, one for "Playing with Fire" and the other being "Ringer".Like other mixes from Broadrick, he sticks with the classic definition of a dub mix, stripping back the guitar to emphasize the drums and bass, extra effects on both and minimized vocals.Neither are essential, but they do give a different perspective on the songs.
The most striking aspect of Decline & Fall is how Godflesh-y the whole thing feels.I was expecting a trajectory more like Broadrick's long-time influence Swans' return after a similarly long absence peppered with side projects, where finding their specific identity took a bit of time.This EP does not have any overt moments that sound like Jesu, or Pale Sketcher, or JK Flesh, or [insert project here]: it is purely a distillation of the early days of Godflesh.If this reactivation is for the long term, as it seems to be, I am not sure how this strictly compartmentalized approach will be.For the span of an EP it works wonderfully, and it is reassuring that Broadrick and Green have not simply tried to capitalize on their past glories by resurrecting the name.However, my concerns are how this very specific adherence to their old sound will be over the span of one or many full-length albums.Given who it is, and how much of a fan I am of their entire discography, I have no problem giving them the benefit of the doubt though.
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Drawing influences from '80s pop, '90s techno, and a bit of more experimental sounds, Profilgate's Noah Anthony manages to be one of those rare electronic-heavy records that is extremely difficult to pin-down as far as time period goes. These three songs encompass sounds from four decades of electronic music, with specific moments that fit into a specific style or genre, but the whole is a much different than the individual parts.
"From All Sides" is rather skeletal introduction, with its rudimentary kick/snare beat lead and fuzzy bass line accompanied by a simple synth melody and a few noisy stabs to keep things fresh and diverse.Vocals are present, but low and restrained, giving a darker, mysterious edge to the otherwise relatively pop-friendly mix."Annihilated" comes together with a slightly less catchy feel, focusing more on a straight ahead techno thump emphasizing rhythm over melody and the employment of various weird noises and the bass line, which is memorable if maybe a bit more dissonant in its overall tone.
The flip side is taken up with the 9 minute "The Red Rope Again," which leads off with a dense, rapid beat that nicely contrasts the overall more subdued mix.A slow progression of analog synth strings might channel 1980s electro, but the beat and production is far more contemporary.The rhythm stays constant for the entire piece, but everything around it evolves and shifts over the duration, with the vocals again kept low and tasteful in the mix.
With synth pop melodies, club friendly techno rhythms and modern day experimental electronic production, Profilgate is a simultaneously nostalgic, yet contemporary artist that sounds like no other that I can think of.Despite the solid 4/4 beat that permeates these three songs, there is a far more introspective sound that is what sets Anthony's project apart, and it is this clashing of style and approach that makes The Red Rope EP so compelling.
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Over the span of a far-too-short 20 minutes, Ritual Howls manages to plow through a variety of styles that all rank amongst my favorites, with a lo-fi level of production that would make any "true kvlt" black metal band jealous. Even with all this ugliness, however, the material is more memorable than dissonant and at times leans into true song structures that are more memorable than what similar artists usually do.
Opener "Turkish Leather" is the most conventional of the three on this tape.Via chiming guitar repetition, fragile drum machine and reverb encrusted vocals, it could almost be a lost, independent-era Sisters of Mercy demo that slowly builds to a fully fleshed out, dramatic conclusion.Appropriately histrionic, yet mired in cheap four track production values, it is one of the times that I feel the murkiness hurts, because I would love to hear what a more polished mix of this song would sound like.
The shorter "Scent of Skin" goes less for drama and more for punk, with a significantly higher energy level propelled by barely controlled guitar squalls and a rapid fire machine gun beat.The aforementioned nastiness helps here, giving it an appropriate level of grime and chaos fitting for the song.The lengthy "Laugh at the Moon" excises even more of the musicality into a junky, old school industrial realm.A deep oil drum rhythm pops up early on, but the remaining instrumentation is all trashy rhythms and shitty effects, but in the best possible way.At times resembling a more fleshed out early SPK or a less syntheticEsplendor Geometrico, it all comes together delightfully, aided by a perfectly distorted bass guitar.
There seems to be an identity crisis going on here, as Ritual Howls jumps between styles that are only loosely tied to one another, but each song is done so well, it is not a detriment at all.While I would prefer to hear "Turkish Leather" presented as a more polished, conventionally death rock song, it is still great in this rawer form, and the two remaining pieces benefit from the DIY production values. My biggest gripe is that there simply was not enough here, as the tape was over far too early for my liking.
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ExcitoToxicity: The third studio album release from Nurse With Wound and Graham Bowers
ExcitoToxicity ... an excess of most things, both mentally and physically, although exciting and pleasurable, can easily accelerate and rapidly become toxic ... on a cellular level, deadly.
We have thrown caution to the wind and gone overboard on the quality of the 8 Panel DigiPak artwork design and packaging for this release ... why? ... Graham liked all Steven's proposed paintings for the album ... so
Steven decided we should feature them all ... on a heavy board in full gloss, on a matte background.
The pre-release has been limited to a quantity of 100 and contains a unique and individual printed insert of one of Steven's featured paintings, it takes the form of an unusual post-card, stamped with stamps of the world, franked, signed and numbered by Steven and Graham.
Please visit www.red-wharf.com for audio excerpts and further details.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IPMAXm-Q4P4&authuser=0
Reveries is the first collaborative effort of Noveller & TQA, two critically acclaimed lonesome composers welcoming us to an expanded guitar-based journey. Noveller is the solo project of Brooklyn-based composer Sarah Lipstate while Thisquietarmy is Eric Quach, unstoppable globetrotting musician from Montreal. Both use the guitar as their main instrument, creating some of the most impressive, hypnotic and rich-textured electric guitar works from the past years.
Empty architecture, luminosity, rocks and deserted zones. Somewhere between Antonioni's Zabriskie Point and Tarkovski's Stalker, there is a walk, a wait and an epiphany.
It happened. You were not there. You just read it. Or maybe it's the synopsis of it. It's written on the back cover of a dog-eared paperback that girl with the golden cap lost in the train you were just in. She was in a hurry. You'll never know its end, you just have to stick to the rocks and to the music.
Tomorrow is another day and tonight might be the night.
Recorded in January 2013 at Electric Blue Studios in Brooklyn, this new long player finds Sarah & Eric at their most luminous and aerial state, writing together layers of blissful drones resulting of a highly meditative and emotional four-parts piece.
More information here.
Brand new double LP from the duo of Caleb Mulkerin and Colleen Kinsella, who also play in Cerberus Shoal and Fire On Fire. The duo also performed on Michael Gira's Swans LP, The Seer in 2012. Based out of Portland, Maine, Big Blood has dropped a ton of stunning self-released CDs and cassettes since 2006 as well as some fantastic vinyl releases for Time-Lag, Feeding Tube, Phase and Immune.
Big Blood's sound is rooted in folk and prime '60s / '70s garage psych. This new double LP sees them focus more on the electric side of things than on some previous releases with the addition of drummer, Shon. The record was recorded after Colleen spent a lot of time listening to Sabbath, Zepp and Dead Moon, so it definitely has a heavier vibe than some of their past releases.
The gatefold sleeve features artwork by Colleen, Unlikely Mothers refers to Colleen's mother (pictured on the inside) and Colleen's aunt (pictured on the outside), both were nuns. Her aunt stayed a nun and colleen's mom left (obviously) during Vatican II. The two images for the sleeve are from an ongoing series about women who buck common notions of who are the mothers in our lives.
More information can be found here.
First new material since 2001. Six new songs plus two dub versions.
More information can be found here.
The reissue of ARISPEJAL ASTISARÓ+ on vinyl for the first time!, in expanded version (Double LP) with the four outstanding tracks "Noising in the Rain I - IV," included in the legendary Bruitiste compilation (1987) by RRRrecords. Recorded between 1987 and 1989 and firstly published only in CD (1992) by Línea Alternativa, an especially interesting period where the unique and characteristic rhythmic-industrial Esplendor Geométrico style, developed along the eighties, turns more minimalistic, schematic, cold and rough.
Remastered in 2014 with a vastly improved sound, ARISPEJAL ASTISARÓ+ includes the 10 original tracks of the CD plus the 4 of Bruitiste, that constitutes the perfection of the eighties E.G. sound in all its aspects, included the voice of Arturo Lanz. Aggressive siderurgical hammering ("Jari", "Arispejal astisaro"), mechanized tribalism ("Felacion", "Bi bajin"), and hypnotic spirals ("Catare").
Geometrik presents the reissue, on vinyl for the first time and remastered in 2014 from the original reel to reel tapes!, of SHEIKH ALJAMA, originally published only in CD (1991) by Daft Records (Dirk Ivens label). Recorded between 1987 and 1989, an especially interesting period where the unique and characteristic rhythmic-industrial E.G. style, developed along the eighties, turns more minimalistic, schematic, cold and rough, with sporadic influences of Arabic musics and rhythms. SHEIKH ALJAMA is an Esplendor Geométrico classic and one of the best albums of their whole career, including their hit "Sinaya." Sheikh Aljama stands out for the incorporation of sonorities, voices and percussions of Arabic influence.
More information can be found here.
On paper, this album seems like a lock for one of the most fun and memorable releases of the year, as Drew Daniel is one of the smartest and most innovative artists currently working in electronic music and he and his talented friends are reinterpreting some of the most spectacularly self-parodying music ever recorded (the album's subtitle is "Electronic Profanations of Black Metal Classics").  The reality, however, is more baffling than anything.  While Heathen certainly boasts a couple of inspired moments, its bulk lies somewhere in an unsatisfying no-man's land between one-note joke, head-scratching pastiche, and weirdly reverent homage.
As ridiculous and contrarian as the idea of turning extremely hostile, uncommercial, and politically dubious metal into queer club anthems sounds, it is clear that Daniel went into this endeavor as a sincere fan of the genre who was just as intent on celebrating black metal as he was on calling attention to its more laughable aspects.  Drew clearly knows his metal, drawing as equally from first-wave classics by Venom and Hellhammer as he does from deep obscurities by Sargeist and An.  Also, for the most part, Daniel loosely leaves the original chord progressions and structures intact, which is simultaneously one of the album's greatest weaknesses and one of its most compelling twists.  Staying somewhat true to the original songs definitely inhibits Drew's ability to transform Satanic misanthropy into dance floor-packing pop gems, but the transformation can still be impressively radical, most notably with the soulful House take on Sarcófago's "Ready to Fuck" (featuring guest vocals from Wye Oak's Jenn Wasner).
Given those self-imposed constraints, Drew and his collaborators opt for fairly primitive strains of black metal, as they offer a far less restrictive canvas than more contemporary, baroque strains.  Still, these are not particularly catchy chord progressions for the most part, so Daniel and his cohorts are forced to create their dance anthems primarily through radical rhythmic overhauls.  The execution of that, lamentably, is where Heathen goes very wrong for me, as The Soft Pink Truth seem to combine metal fascination with a crash course in the last 20 years of underground dance music.  The end result often sounds (at best) like raspy metal vocals welded to second-rate Squarepusher or Venetian Snares, making the album both perplexing and instantly dated.  I can understand the conceptual reason for mashing the two scenes together, but it certainly is not easy on my ears.  I did not particularly like rave/house music in the '90s and it is sadly no better when metallized by the guys from Matmos.
That said, some great moments still shine through the clattering, synth-driven chaos, particularly the cover of Hellhammer's "Maniac," as the lazy, cartoonishly menacing verses are absolutely hilarious ("mayhem is my goal!").  Also, Daniel cleverly tosses in an unexpected percussive allusion to the completely unrelated "Maniac" from the Flashdance soundtrack.  That was a nice touch.  Venom's genre-birthing "Black Metal" is also quite fun.  More often, however, things that should be extremely funny just fall kind of flat, elicit a fleeting smirk, or are just are not particularly amusing at all.  The latter category is solely represented by an annoying (but brief) performance of an Anal Cunt side project's "Grim and Frostbitten Gay Bar."  As for the former categories, they are best represented by the C&C Music Factory snatches in "Satanic Black Devotion," M.C. Schmidt's attempt to sound vampiric, and Wasner's deadpan soul diva-wailing of lines like "I will lick you from the feets to the head, making you feel torrential orgasms."
Aside from my fundamental disinterest in taking a tongue-in-cheek trip through the history of rave with some metal vocals tacked on, the most damning flaw with Heathen is that it is just not as good as the music that it is mocking.  As silly as they are at times, most of the original songs are still bracingly, viscerally bad-ass.  These covers, on the other hand, largely feel like a very labor-intensive, elaborate novelty.  Also, several of these bands are better at being self-parodying than The Soft Pink Truth are at parodying them.  For example, Jenn Wasner's performance in "Ready to Fuck" is amusing, I suppose, but not nearly as funny as the singer from Sarcófago referring to his cock as a "penetrator hammer" with complete earnestness.  Consequently, Heathen falls short as both music and humor for me, which is very exasperating given the promise of the premise and the level of talent involved.  It is hard to imagine many people continuing to listen to this album after the initial curiosity subsides.  That said, Heathen does succeed in one regard: as subversive art, as the orgiastic cover art and campy collision of queer/rave culture with corpse-paint and evil posturing goes a long way towards de-fanging some of Black Metal’s more homophobic/fascistic/extreme right-wing tendencies.
 
There has been an unusual amount of excitement about this debut and for good reason: Eric Holm takes a very cool and inspired idea and executes it beautifully.  Culled entirely from contact mic recordings that Holm made from remote telephone poles used by military listening stations in the Arctic Circle, Andøya is an unexpectedly rhythmic and haunting series of meticulously crafted industrial soundscapes that occasionally blur into weird minimalist techno.
It goes without saying that unusual sound sources are hardly groundbreaking in today's experimental music landscape, but seeing them combined with a healthy amount of imagination and compositional talent is a legitimate rarity.  In most other hands, these pops, hums, and crackles would have been turned been into straightforward field recordings, academic-sounding sound art, or recognizability-obliterating noise.  To his credit, Eric has proven that he has the talent and vision needed to join the ranks of folks like Matmos and Klara Lewis in figuring out how to twist very non-musical sounds into structured, compelling music.
Holm is at his best when strongly emphasizes the machine-like rhythms of his recordings, as he does in the stellar opener Måtinden.  I suspect Holm must have encountered a particularly virtuosic and multitalented telephone pole for that piece, as the murky sub-bass thrum, repeating thumps, crackles, hisses, and shudders do not just combine to approximate minimalist techno–they combine to approximate quite complex minimalist techno.  Equally impressive is the fact that Holm manages to keep the piece compelling for almost 10 minutes simply by deftly fading components in and out. While Eric repeats that general template a couple more times over the course of Andøya (he has an extremely constrictive palette), he still manages to vary the pace and atmosphere enough to make pieces like the slow and echo-heavy "Stave" and the propulsively rumbling bassquake of "Kvastinden" seem similarly distinctive and striking.
The remaining three pieces, however, are a bit more abstract.  "Åse," for example, is built upon an insistent stuttering buzz punctuated by echoing scrapes.  "Høyvika," on the other hand, sounds like minimalist techno that has been deconstructed and abstracted into a murky miasma of fits-and-starts and hollowly echoing clatters and shudders.  The final piece, the titular "Andøya," is probably the most abstract of all, cohering into a pulsing sub-bass drone embellished with eerie metallic whines and dissonantly harmonizing hums.  While I personally prefer the more rhythmic pieces on the album, the more atmospheric pieces do not display any significant drop in quality.  I just happen to prefer experimental sound art with hooks to experimental sound art without them.
Aside from the excellent concept and massive amount of skillful editing involved in crafting Andøya, I also loved the sounds themselves: the telephone poles deserve some credit too.  Though knowing the origin of these sounds undeniably affects my perception of the album, I think Andøya's coldly inhuman array of buzzes, throbs, and clicks would have had no problem evoking scenes of paranoia and isolation even without their backstory.  Also, in a more specific sense, I loved that Eric used so many buzzing and throbbing low frequencies near the threshold of hearing.  That enhances the sense of mystery a lot for me, as it frequently feels like deep, elemental forces are cohering into something on their own rather than being shaped by some guy with an expensive laptop.  I am definitely the target demographic for sonic illusions, intentional or otherwise.
Obviously, an album like this is going to have niche appeal at best, but I think Andøya is intermittently great enough and musical enough to potentially lure in some adventurous listeners from beyond the sound art/experimental music communities.  I sincerely hope it does, as it deserves to be heard.  Also, I would very much love to live in a world where the reigning club banger of the summer was unwittingly penned by a telephone pole on a mountainous Arctic island.
 
