Plenty of new music to be had this week from Laetitia Sadier and Storefront Church, Six Organs of Admittance, Able Noise, Yui Onodera, SML, Clinic Stars, Austyn Wohlers, Build Buildings, Zelienople, and Lea Thomas, plus some older tunes by Farah, Guy Blakeslee, Jessica Bailiff, and Richard H. Kirk.
Lake in Girdwood, Alaska by Johnny.
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Mind-shattering double LP of dysphoric space-rock minimalism from two luminaries of the Swedish punk underground.
Second Launch follows Bremen’s self-titled debut of 2013 and comprises 11 controlled improvisations, reinforced with overdubs, that take clear inspiration from the dark side of kraut and progressive rock, early electronic and drone music, whilst also owing something to the fathomlessly bleak interior landscapes conjured by Nico/Cale on The Marble Index and Desertshore.
The complex dialogue between Lanchy Orre’s guitar and Jonas Tiljander’s organ, by turns pensive and combative, bound up with their mastery of reverb and feedback, is the focal point of the record; supplemented with drums and sparingly deployed analogue synthesizer tones to evoke nothing less than the vast emptiness of outer space and the obliteration of all meaning and identity in the face of it.
From the full-throttle motorik and bonehead repetitions of "Sweepers" and "Entering Phase Two" (echoes of Tiljander and Orre's alma mater, Brainbombs) to the deep astral psychedelia of "Static Interferences," via the mournful Northern European ambience of "Walking The Skies," the rolling thunder of "They Were Drifting" and the poignant, stargazing blues of "Hollow Wave," Second Launch charts impossible gradients in its search for answers to the oldest questions of all.
A three-pronged advance through the heart of physical sunshine playing on the floor of the jungle. Epic, insistent collabasitions played out over four sides making a whole.
Since the reformation of Wire in the early 2000s, solo and side projects from Colin Newman and Graham Lewis have been scant to say the least, with only the occasional odd release or compilation song to be heard. Therefore, the announcement of not just one, but two new Lewis albums immediately grabbed my attention, and immediately made me wonder how they might differ being issued as true solo albums (as opposed to as He Said or Hox). Featuring assistance from collaborators including Thomas Öberg (27#11), Andreas Karperyd (He Said Omala, Hox), and Paul Thomsen Kirk (Akatombo), the results were certainly worth the wait, and make for the perfect culmination of his work to date.
Even at a quick spinning, it makes sense for these to be released as two distinct albums as they differ so significantly from each other.All Over is the more accessible of the two, and could easily have been branded a He Said release and sit nicely alongside Hail and Take Care.Like that project's peak era, it is his use of conventional, largely electronic instrumentation in unconventional arrangements that lead to a sense of dissonance, but never straying far from memorable pop hooks.Just like "ABC Dicks Love" and "Could You?" were fascinating bits of off-kilter synth pop with Lewis' eternally smooth vocals leading the way, "Straight into The Corner" has a modernized electronic feel in its stabbing percussion and slightly disjointed melody, given extra momentum by his vocal performance.
The rapid, danceable beat that underscores "The Start of Next Week" keeps things up-tempo amidst more chaotic passages and heavy vocal processing.Catchy but frenzied, he overall sound is reminiscent of the brilliant 27#11 single from a few years back. Some more contemporary IDM sounds and production appears on "Bluebird" but in a slower, moodier progression overall.
"We've Lost Your Mind," released as a teaser a few months ago, also conjures feelings like another throwback to times past.Its loose, poppy structure and tastefully prominent synth sequence sounds like something that would appear if Wire's A Bell is a Cup was recorded this year.Closing song "Passport to International Travel" ends the album on a high, frenetic note.With a punky exuberance and a rapid tempo, it is an undeniably energetic and fun song, with a youthful energy that solidifies the fact that Edvard Graham Lewis is the coolest 61 year old on Earth.
The companion album, All Under, takes a far more abstract direction in comparison, for the first half dropping the beats and vocals for dissonant electronic textures and odd effects in an overall sound that fits well with the more difficult Dome moments with Bruce Gilbert."All Under (Film Score)" drifts from an industrial scrape to a modular synth twinkle into pure DSP crunch in just under six minutes; all the more impressive considering it was recorded live with just a sampler and effects.The "All Under (Installation Loop)" version is significantly longer and more skeletal, at first hollow and drifting, then mixed with sharper feedback and pinging electronics that upset things nicely.
Graham takes the remaining half of the album in even odder directions."The Eel Wheeled" is a spoken word piece:a surrealist tale of espionage backed by Lewis' heavy mangling of a standard sound effects library, with a second half that progressively becomes unhinged in the most brilliant way.The lengthy "No Show Godot" has some hints of the sound that defined All Over, but in a sprawling, 18 plus minute expanse.Initially opening as drifting ambient piece with a slight acerbic edge to it, it becomes more abrasive via stuttering passages of noise that ends up locking into an oddly skewed rhythmic structure.This moves into an overt, electronic drum circle type pounding and mostly untreated vocals.
Given the length of time since the last full-fledged solo release from Graham Lewis, I had high expectations for All Under/All Over.Considering the fact they were recorded over the past decade, it makes sense that these two cover the gamut of his previous styles as a series of ideas and snippets that benefited from the time Lewis took to polish and expand.With one half encompassing dissonant and experimental electronic music that has a uniquely powerful penchant for pop hooks and memorable vocals, and the other hinting back to his earliest experiments with music and noise, the two albums are inseparable sides of the same coin. They both also clearly show that nearly 40 years into his career, Graham Lewis is an artist unlike any other in the quality and uniqueness of his work.
Papir's fourth album shows off the trio's dynamism and subtlety across a broad range of emotional and technically impressive instrumental passages, recalling influences as diverse and possibly accidental as Durutti Column and Hawkwind.
I have slowly developed considerable liking for this four song release. Not that there isn’t plenty of immediate pleasure in listening to IIII but some aspects of these lengthy instrumental pieces are revealed more gradually. The drumming, for example, takes the lead at times, even seeming to hold the melody on "IIII". While IIII is a proper album, in that it is a very coherent and connected composition, it does not have a recurrent theme, although the start of "II" and the whole of "IIII" share a mood of cool reflection after some frenetic interplay between instruments.
Papir has one foot in post-rock and another in an earlier, more muscular or fleshed-out progressive music with echoes of riff-driven psychedelia and surf-guitar. These influences do not tip over into mere pastiche and are kept very subservient to the trio’s own dynamic and semi-improvisational style. Thankfully, even on the extended passages, that style doesn’t really develop into an awkward situation where just the musicians are having all the fun.
Depending on my mood I either start the album with the brisk Tortoise-esque "I" or with the shortest piece, "IIII," which almost resembles a post-rock take on Peter Green’s "Albatross." This is only an option with the CD version as "IIII" is left off the vinyl due to lack of space.
Papir use lashings of twang and wah wah, achieve plenty of tweaks in tone and tension, and effectively use changes in pace and volume to add freshness and variety. My favorite of these changes is during "III," around 11 minutes in, where they drop into a complete silence then add a quiet guitar figure in a slower pace for a while. The effect is rather like the protagonist in a Murakami novel jumping a wall into a peaceful alley and sitting; an escape into another world away from the crowded city and his pressing concerns. Papir also execute a good hypnotic trick: making me listen so intently to the nuances and repetition in their music that I miss the exact point when—to put it in visual terms—the vase becomes two people kissing. This is an immersing release from a young Scandinavian trio.
“The idea for The Death Of Rave was conceived in early 2006 after a visit to the Berghain Club in Berlin. At the time Berghain was about to explode on the international club scene as a temple. The feeling was in the air that something special was happening. I went and saw a pale shadow of the past. Grim and boring beats, endlessly pounding to an audience who felt they were part of an experience but who lacked cohesion and energy. For me personally something had died. Be it a spirit, be it an ideal, be it an adventure in sound. Rave and techno felt dead to me.
The original The Death Of Rave project was vast, over two-hundred flashbacks, using all of the dance floor hits from the time and stripping theme of energy and spirit, turning them into shadows and ghosts. The material pre-dates the recent obsession younger musicians have for re-creating remembered rave textures and memories. This was not nostalgia, It was an inverted paean to a time when the music was about bringing people together for a shared experience. A time when only the music, advancement of sound and getting on one mattered.
Of course The Death Of Rave was vast, too vast to digest. It was available for free download for a number of years via the V/Vm Test label. In the end The Death Of Rave died itself when the V/Vm Test website was deleted in full in 2008. In the intervening years I have at various times re-visited the work. And so eight tracks were lifted from the project and have now been remastered by Matt Colton as a "document from a dead past." A monument to a lost work, an idea finally set in stone via a physical format. Proof of its existence.
Ivan Seal himself a veteran of the original "rave times" provides the glorious cover artwork in keeping with all History Favours The Winners" releases. The track-listing is in reference to the strongest rave-memories I have from those nights. The people, the DJ’s, the cars, the violence and the long lost clubs. Flashbacks only, now consigned to my own dusty experiences.
"'They danced like they never had before. They danced in the darkest hour before daybreak.’ It’s dead now, over. Long may it live...”
"There are 10 people who run the World. They are exclusively male, and presidents, magnates, and high priests all do their bidding. The 10 live in villas in the remotest part of the Himalayas—a place that absolutely NO-ONE would ever stumble upon. Although the 10 live in such close proximity to each other, they choose to have meetings in the back room of a small office in London. That's where the decisions are made. That's where the wars begin, that's where the dice are tossed across the table to establish who wins, who loses, who lives, who dies."
The classic conspiracy theory to end them all and I listened, open-mouthed, hair falling into my eyes . It was maybe 1976 when I heard this first.
You are right to snigger at my naivety. I listened and twisted this story around inside my head, and it did indeed seem completely unbelievable.
Now of course it's 2014, and I'm older and wiser and I have to laugh at myself too. Now I know wasn't a theory. Now I know it's true. EK
Uploaded here is merely a trailer for Volume 1, due out as a glorious slab of vinyl from the Rustblade label on 27 June 2014.
Extremely enigmatic and sporadically active over the past 30 years, Fossil Aerosol Mining Project maintains their secrecy on this new album of decaying material and found recordings. Heavily based on the use of ancient magnetic tape and careful mixing and processing, the result is a strange, sometimes dark but always captivating bit of audio art that emphasizes mystery above all else.
Songs such as "From the Lowlands" most clearly demonstrate this penchant for employing fragmenting, decaying sounds.Backwards tapes and what sounds like moody ambient electronics make up the bulk of the piece, with delays and pitch bending emphasizing this decaying feeling."Lowlands Hybrid" has the same feel to it, but more stripped down to a spacious ambient drone.
Field recordings act as a major element in a few of these pieces, but mostly as an instrument rather than the sole focus."Transparency of Limestone" sounds like a walk through nature, with chirpy birds and buzzing insect recordings receiving just the right amount of processing to make them unique.The familiar sounds are soon deconstructed into an expanse of crunchy textural noises and electronic space.The lengthy "Ice Falls/Taking on Water" uses some natural sounds with a synth like expanse, to put it somewhere between field recordings and conventional music.The ambiguity is only enhanced with the clanking machinery that ends up acting as a rhythmic counterpoint.
"Systems Clock" also demonstrates a little bit of a rhythm, interspersed with what sounds like vinyl record surface noise and recordings of idling engines.Extremely unconventional, but these found sounds are shaped expertly by these mysterious composers into something memorable.Bits of dialog and what sounds like radio communications on "Backbone 1982" give it a different, more dissonant feel overall.Dense, heavy passages of what sounds like a mass of electronics lead it towards a darker, more oppressive sound compared to the remainder of the record.
The found recordings and rotting tapes that make up the core of 17 Years in Ektachrome make for a mysterious, sometimes disorienting recording that leaves just enough that can be recognized audible, while building up a world of ambiguity all around.Coupled with the enigmatic nature of the project, the result is a fascinating record that features layers of mystery that are not easily unraveled.
One of the most recent examples of an established noise artist "selling out" (and I mean that sarcastically) and making actual music was a surprising one. Avellan Cross' Elden M is best known for his work as the enigmatic Allegory Chapel Ltd., but has been dipping his toe into the new lo-fi EBM scene. The thing is, he brings enough of his dissonant past with him to make an album that really cannot be easily labeled, but covers enough of both industrial and noise to make it a strong entry in both genres.
Opening song "MTN" is the biggest throwback to ACL's work on here.Made up of deep synth pulses and bass drum programming, it is sequenced so densely and delayed so much that the result has little tangible rhythm or melody to be grasped upon."Actual Reality" is also pretty dissonant, albeit not quite as significantly in comparison.More overt synth arpeggios clash with erratic drum machines, with Elden’s voice whispered and echoed heavily.The sounds used throughout might be a bit more traditional, but the structuring is anything but.
"Luminol" is more indebted to Detroit electro than any of the splinter genres of industrial, on the other hand.Straightforward synth patterns and 4/4 drum programming give it that proto-techno vibe, and the lo-fi vocal production and synth string pads give it a deliciously vintage sound."A+ Energie" works in similar ways, dropping the vocals in favor of dialog samples and emphasizing a sharp, snappy drum program to excellent effect.
Avellan Cross is influenced by the 1980s industrial scene, but it is only on the live "Man on Fire" where the most specific one shines through.Over a din of monotone kick drums and apocalyptic hand claps, his vocals dip into Alan Vega's pseudo-Elvis croon, complete with the vocal tics and outbursts that appeared on so many Suicide songs.It does not at all come across as a rip-off, but instead a fitting tribute to a band who influence is still felt to this day.
Bits and pieces of Technoise might clearly be traced to genres and artists past, but the way Elden M. pieces them together is what makes this release stand out.The unconventional composition combined with the raw production makes it clear that this project is not going for any sort of crossover success, and nor should it.It is a dirty, ugly, and noisy bit of electro, and that is exactly what I loved about it.
A year on from their Public Information debut, Chicago duo Jeremy Lemos and Brian Case return to the fold with five new pieces of exquisitely produced wave-funk-techno-noise-electronics.
It takes great skill to pull off a three-minute electronic drone-grumble to kickstart your new record. Lemos and Case have it in droves. The tension is jet-black, loaded with friction. Modular energy pulses in and out, in and out. Then suddenly Case takes to the microphone, snarls and spits “Hey Bullfighter, read about you in a book...”
I W I finds Acteurs in a more assured, confident, angry mood than their debut. The signifiers are there – claustrophobic Ike Yard glare, Factory Floor throb, Diagonal abstractions – but we now have a bold swagger, stomping triumphantly into frightening new space. The crushing late-song collapse of "Honey Bear" is a breathtaking wall of clatter and noise that Tim Hecker would blush at. The loopy saw-tooth menace of "River Card" is as strange as anything they've done and the pummeling title track could easily shatter those murky dancefloors of strip-lit basements where people from the future dance in amongst the normals; machine drums puncturing the smoke, ear damaging feedback rattles the walls, torn Moog shapes cutting chatter to zero...end of night.
Editions Mego is proud to present the first recordings by Edvard Graham Lewis released this century. Having made his name in legendary punk/experimental outfits Wire, Dome and He Said, Lewis has developed an exceptional voice with ceaseless exploration of a wide variety of musical forms.
All Over is a song-based album that resides amongst the cracks between narrative and song, sound and music. Cloaked in an atmosphere of beauty and paranoia, All Over conjures the spirit of Wire's experimental pop trajectory whilst simultaneously exploring a multitude of sonic possibilities. Gritty mechanical operations support Lewis' wry human observations in a uniquely disturbing melange of punk, industrial, techno and pop. A dream logic plays throughout All Over courtesy of Lewis' odd lyrical content being set with all manner of disorientating sound and rhythm.
All Under, the companion release to All Over compiles soundtracks to films, installations and a self-penned short story. This is familiar terrain for Lewis who, along with Bruce Gilbert, produced the early interactive audio-visual installation 'MZUI' at London’s Waterloo Gallery in 1981.
Since this period, Lewis as been involved in countless soundtracks to all manner of cultural artefacts. The haunting score to Gunilla Leander's 2003 short film "All Under" was improvised in real-time with a sampler and FX processing and recorded onto mini disc. The results are a viscous ambience of swirls, feedback and distortion. This material was then adapted for an immersive 3 screen installation of the same visual material which features combinations of 6 nude bodies (4 men, 2 women) fighting and wrestling, filmed underwater. The soundtrack here crawls further in the depths as electronic phrases swim amongst a foreboding ambience. Both of these works encapsulate the same disembodied effect of the visual material as hovering, uncanny sound worlds seep into the listeners subconscious.
"The Eel Wheeled" features Lewis' reading one of his own bizarre stories underscored with a suitably disorientating soundtrack sourced from sound effects of the Prime Sounds SFX Library. This version was re-mixed by Thomas Öberg (member of Bob Hund and 27#11).
"No Show Godot" concludes the set. A soundtrack to a "sky movie" (road movies be warned) completed in 2013. Coming out of the initial sub-aquatic environments of the opening works, "No Show Godot" takes us on a spiralling high before folding into a gritty godly industrial mantra which comes along as a perfect means of tying up these two concurrent releases as a symmetrical whole.
Both albums will be out June 16th. More information can be found here.
Both of these two self-released limited discs are based on recordings taken from various rain forests, but the overall sound and character of the two are quite different.Hyper-Rainforest is the more varied of the pair, constituting rainforest recordings over a 20-year period and across five continents, and was originally part of a massive sound installation.
Untreated field recordings, at worst, fall into the trap of being too sparse or simplistic, and are best relegated to the dollar store "relaxing sounds" bin.López, however, records them at their best.Hyper-Rainforest is anything but placid, capturing swarms of insects, frogs, and bird songs amidst roaring water and pouring rain.Recorded at a relatively loud level, the sounds of a waterfall or a rainstorm are as effectively harsh as the work of nearly any noise artist out there.
As loud as passages might be, however, they never overshadow the more delicate moments of these recordings.Subtle insect chirps and bird songs are allowed to be heard in the quieter segments, but the overall dynamics are constantly shifting.That is a huge asset of this recording:it never seems to stop or settle.Jumping from jungle to jungle via sharp, sometimes abrupt edits, it is the antithesis of mundane new age type nature recordings.
Perhaps most startling here is the juxtaposition of extremely different recordings.The first piece is mostly expansive ambience and chirping birds, having an inviting feel to it.The second, however, is underscored by a frightening reverberated noise that is extremely unsettling.The third piece also features a similarly monstrous animal noise that is not at all obscured by the louder birds and noisy insects and leads to both tension and fascination.
For me, these two discs seem to have a connection to the world of harsh noise.Hyper-Rainforest reminded me of something such as the Incapacitants or Hijokaidan in its single, unbroken hour-long duration.There are far more dynamic moments as opposed to those two artists' unrelenting wall of noise approaches, but to me it conveyed a similar intensity, never becoming too sparse or open.On the other hand, Yanayacu, with its intentionally placed long passages of silence was akin to early Whitehouse, when long gaps of silence were intentionally placed between songs to magnify the louder moments.Again, López's recordings of the Amazon are not nearly as harsh or aggressive in nature, but these empty moments did make the captured recordings seem all the more forceful.The fact that these field recordings made that transition from natural sounds to sound art compositions as I listened to them shows just what a master López is at selecting and editing sounds, even when he is not taking the traditional role of composer