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.
Get involved: subscribe, review, rate, share with your friends, send images!
Mixing old with new both in technology and imagery, Montreal's Aun (Martin Dumais and Julie Leblanc) capture the audio aesthetic of time worn 1970s low budget sci fi film soundtracks via a malfunctioning TV, sometimes erring into abrasive territories, and other times coming across like lost four track Tangerine Dream demos rotting in an attic. Modern MIDI equipment clashes with unreliable analog technologies to produce a sound that is as retro sounding as it is innovative.
With titles like "Koenig," "Vulcan," and "Voyager," the imagery is pretty clear on Alpha Heaven, but the sound itself is not as cliché riddled as it could be at first glance.For all the titles, there is nary an overwrought synth bleep or ray gun sound effect to be had.Instead, the album is more subtle and musical in its approach.Some of the songs are definitely more rock oriented, like the overt guitar and clipped bass rhythms of "Koenig" and the dramatic thrust and percolating keyboards of "Alpha."  However, it all is enshrouded in a low fidelity haze that makes it feel like a garage rock band’s demo from the past, which adds a warmth to the experience rather than detracting from it.
Ambient, both traditional and of the darker variety, is spread throughout, and the moments that resonated most with me are the ones where drum programming appears, such as the heavily echoed beats of "Viva."  That, meshed with the sharp, processed guitar was like a throwback to the days of ambient dub, such as Deliverance/Colossus/Evanescence era Scorn.The same applies to "Voyager," with its dubby echoes and fragmented voices recalling a more immediate, engaging Bill Laswell track from the mid 1990s.
The echoing wash of vocals on "War is Near" and the aforementioned "Voyager" give those songs a distinctly different sound, with Leblanc's voice processed enough to sound like another instrument, but still retaining enough of its human quality to stand out.The former, despite its menacing title actually has one of the lighter vibes on the album.
There are a few moments that feel a bit more like filler in comparison, such as the sputtering, flanged tones of "Vulcan" and sparse moments of "Peacecalm" that simply do not stand out as unique amidst the other, more complicated compositions.Even the light, synth heavy "Floodland," which is also rather underdeveloped on its own, is fleshed out with some obvious guitar focused passages that help it come together well.
What Alpha Heaven boils down to is a multitude of great songs with a unifying feel to them, with a few pieces throughout that simply do not manage to engage quite as well.As a whole though, it does an admirable job of conjuring that mood: lazily watching B grade science fiction movies via a television with questionable reception:something I can remember occasionally doing myself as a child.It hits the right balance of low fidelity production, creative structures, and the warmth of times passed.
samples:
 
Robert Haigh is a veteran of UK underground music from the early eighties onwards. In the eighties he worked on seminal Nurse With Wound albums and released a series of darkly ambient albums and EPs under the name Sema. The nineties saw Haigh experimenting with atmospheric textures and sequenced rhythms under the name Omni Trio. From the mid naughties onwards Haigh has returned to his love of minimal piano counterpoint with releases on Seal Pool, Crouton, Siren and now Primary Numbers.
Release date: September 17, 2013
Darkling Streams is the awaited follow-up to the acclaimed trio of piano albums released on Siren Records between 2009 and 2011. Taking up where the Siren trilogy left off, Darkling Streams is a collection of piano miniatures with occasional wisps of shimmering electronic texture. As with the Siren releases, the pieces are intimate, atmospheric, hauntingly melodic and introspective. Shades of Satie, Harold Budd, Arvo Part, Glass and Sakamoto can be detected in these works but never to the extent of overshadowing Haigh’s distinctive expression and harmonic preoccupations. This current set stands apart, however, with the inclusion of a handful of extended pieces. Tracks such as “Fugue State,” “Of Eros And Dust,” and “Rain For Avalon” have an epic and darkly cinematic quality not heard on previous albums.
tracklist:
Memorable melodies, ghostly harmonies, yearning phrases, and tense, frequently circular rhythms are often the only figures populating his songs, and with them he draws up a surprisingly diverse cast of expressions and feelings. – Laughtrack
Whether circular or linear, these tuneful, minimal melodies are truly precious pieces, black-and-white snapshots only just beginning to yellow and curl at the edges. – Igloo
You’d think Haigh’s choice of instrumentation — primarily piano — would act as a limiter rather than a liberator, but the opposite is in fact true. More evidently, Haigh’s channeled a number of his contemporaries (Steve Reich and Susumu Yokota spring instantly to mind) to give these pieces authoritative heft. – The Squid’s Ear
Whether circular or linear, these tuneful, minimal melodies are truly precious pieces, black-and-white snapshots only just beginning to yellow and curl at the edges. – Igloo
discography:
Jack Dangers has been recording, performing, and releasing music for nearly three decades in Meat Beat Manifesto, Tino Corp, and Perennial Divide. Dangers’ resume as a producer and remixer includes David Bowie, Depeche Mode, Nine Inch Nails, Coil, Merzbow, Twilight Circus, Public Enemy, Cranes, David Byrne and many, many more. Apart from the noise, beat, and dub driven Meat Beat Manifesto, Dangers has released numerous solo recordings probing the depths of sound of analogue synths and tape manipulation on labels such as Important Records, Shadow Records, Bella Union, Brainwashed, and his own Tapelab and Flexidisc imprints. Bathyscaphe Trieste is more in line with his critically acclaimed releases such as the Forbidden Planet Explored, Music for Planetarium, and Electronic Music from Tapelab.
In 1960, a two-person bathyscaphe (“deep boat”) named Trieste reached a record maximum depth in the deepest known part of the Earth’s oceans, the Challenger Deep, in the Mariana Trench near Guam. The five hour descent was made possible by the earth’s gravitational pull on nine tons of lead shot, while the three hour ascent was aided by a balloon filled with gasoline. Only James Cameron has returned to the Challenger Deep, and is allegedly in production of a film of the journey. Dangers’ composition honoring this journey is the product of years of work, featuring super slowed down tape manipulations of anlog sythesizers (often 30x as slow), bounced from machine to machine to achieve the appropriate soundtrack for a vessel on an exploratory journey into uncharted depths under massive amounts of physical pressure. Jack’s intention was to create music from a mysterious world which mixed at the bottom of the Mariana trench at the Challenger Deep Bedroom Quilt Studio. The disc comes with CD-ROM content of 35 minutes of video footage edited and set to music by Jack Dangers.
Release Date: September 17, 2013
tracklist:
Watery crescents delight with the soul of an analogue-based futuristic technology, leaving the audience with a wide span of trans-space that competes with the vortex of the unknown. – Igloo
Jack has the world’s only functioning EMS Synthi 100, and, damn it, he’s gonna use it. – XLR8R
discography:
Sachiko has been involved in the Japanese music scene since the late 1980s, but recent releases have shown a growing sense of experimentation that is as beautiful as it is dark, quite often within the same composition, such as on Loka in the Black Ship. Sometimes delicate, sometimes harsh, but never forgettable, it is a high point in a strong run of solo and collaborative records.
While she is a multi instrumentalist, it is her use of voice that stands out the most throughout these seven pieces.It can be heard on almost every song here, in drastically different contexts.On "Der Fliegende Devadatta," uncomfortable undulating electronics set the stage, while her voice is shaped and molded into guttural noises and animalistic grunts, resulting in a rather disturbing, monstrous sound overall.
On "Black Cakam," what sounds like scat singing through a bank of digital effects becomes the foundation for a piece of harsh noise that builds into feedback and shrill squeals that is pleasantly painful and chaotic.The 17-plus minute "Loka" is the centerpiece of the album, and has a feel more akin to a early to mid period Merzbow album, bathed in reverb with occasional bits of voice coming through.It is harsh and a bit reminiscent of Junko's vocals with Hijokaidan, but not quite as extreme.It is abrasive and aggressive, but diverse enough to stay engaging as more than just a noise piece.
Other moments on the album are far less divisive. The open and spacious "Last Day" has Sachiko's voice largely unprocessed and delicate, but with its distant feel it comes across as both gentle and slightly disconcerting."Return" is even more light and airy, with her voice creating a beautiful, yet haunting ending to an album that covers a lot of moods and feelings throughout.
I have followed Sachiko's most recent albums in the past few years, and while they have all been exceptionally well done, I must say that Loka feels the most fully realized, and is the most diverse of them.It covers both the beautiful and ugly sounds in her repertoire, and whether hushed or harsh it is fascinating.
samples:
 
On the second solo release from Shane Broderick (of the delightfully juvenile and inappropriate Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck), there is a sense of developing composition and maturity to be had, mixing his harsh noise and power electronic tendencies with more of a dark ambient sensibility. Paired with the Dutch project on the other side of the 10" going for a death industrial/Cold Meat Industries throwback sound, there is a great old school noise sensibility to be had on here.
Lascivious Aesthetics/Apop Records
The two songs from Broderick expand on the analog heavy sound he started with on the self-titled 3" CD from 2009."Abandonment" is all dour synths and churning bass for its early minutes, but as it goes on harsher, heavy electronics come in to balance the funeral dirge with a power electronics squall."Rapes of Convenience" again emphasizes the low end of the spectrum, but with the synths meeting with controlled feedback passages and shrill, demonic voices that ends rather abruptly.
On the flip side, Maurice De Jong works heavily with slowed down, bass ridden machinery noise on "A Moral Guide to Self-Castration and Necrophilia."That paired with crashing and banging reverberated drones is in league with some of the better Brighter Death Now material.This is made all the more apparent when some harsh noise outbursts start popping out, and demonic, screeching voices cut through violently.
This is a bleak, depressing record, and that is exactly as it should be.From its overall sound and presentation, it reminded me of that mid to late 1990s CMI/Tesco scene that has been severely lacking in recent years.It is not a record that is going to make either artist a crossover media darling, but for the fans of the genre such as myself, it is a wonderfully unpleasant throwback to a time in difficult and extreme music that has seemingly passed the world by.
samples:
 
For the debut recording under the Innode moniker, Stefan Németh works closely with exceptional drummers Steven Hess and Bernhard Breuer on this conceptual album that intentionally juxtaposes human imposed rhythms (both programmed and played) with live and machine generated improvisations. The result is a compelling, synthetic heavy sound, that especially hits its stride on the B side that transitions from conceptual sound to engaging music.
The first half of this LP is front loaded heavily with the two part "Dedispersion I" and "Dedispersion II," and then followed up with a series of short, less impressive experiments.The "Dedispersion" pieces owe a notable debt to the glitch scene of the late '90s but with a fresh, updated sound that sounds much more compelling and unique.Bleeping sounds and white noise skittering beats come together to bear more than a passing resemblance to a skipping CD, which are slowly expanded upon with melodic synth passages and more fleshed out beats.The second segment emphasizes Breuer’s drumming more, sneaking a natural, human sound into an inorganic one that slowly becomes more and more fragmented as it goes on.
On the flip side, both "Gridshifter 05" and "FS Revisited" stand out as exceptionally powerful compositions.The former’s opening reverberated noise and simple mechanic throb is rather rudimentary, but when Hess’ cymbal heavy live percussion begins to weave in and out of the composition, it builds into a grandiose, dramatic outburst that is catchy in more than just a clever sort of way.Slowly throughout the six minutes the patterns shift and change rather strongly."FS Revisited" takes a similar approach; a bass throb leads off and then is cut up by razor sharp live percussion.The layers build and build, with complex rhythms and rich synths coming to a heavy, harsh crescendo that is just perfectly paced and extremely compelling.
The shorter pieces that surround these two, however, come across as less realized and, while not bad in any way, just are not as memorable."Cumbre Vieja" is the only one that approaches a full length song, and the twinkling synths and clicking imperfections that come together as a wall of harsh noise work in an experimental sense, but with the two major pieces that precede it, it just pales in comparison.The short "Rotor" fares rather well, even though its stripped down brittle metallic beats lack the same punch, it does take on a nice Neu! sound by the end.
If there is one thing I am definitely taking away from Gridshifter, it is that Németh is at his best when collaborating with a live percussionist.While his synth heavy programming and static beats work well, they simply do not stand out as much from similar artists working with cold, conceptual electronics.When meshed with the live drumming though, such as his work in Radian, the results are sublime and quite memorable when played at a nice, rib cage rattling level.
samples:
 
Low's newest record represents, as many past releases do for the band, an intentional and successful return to past ideas. As a listener more entrenched in their early material, this record was a welcome and familiar return to a form I recognized. Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker (along with Steve Garrington this time) have decided to craft The Invisible Way with a serious emphasis on empty space and atmosphere by way of Jeff Tweedy, handling production duties, and elevate the subtle country influences of much of their work to the foreground. This is a gorgeous, glacial record that tempts tearful choruses at each slow turn.
"Plastic Cup" is an excellent beginning to the album, but it is probably as fitting an opener as any other song on The Invisible Way. Low's music is all about unpacking emotions and exploring simple moments over simple structures, and their singular focus does not lend itself to a complete contour, as strange as that seems. The few exceptions lay in their transcendent moments: "So Blue" is a masterful, escalating elegy to the loss of youth and innocence, so abundant with energy it seems to escape its restricted instrumental palette, and the only fitting refrain to it is the slow country-tinged comedown of "Holy Ghost." As an album closer, "To Our Knees" does seem specifically designed to taper off with uncertainty and sadness, but so does a majority of the other material.
The musicglides between poignant sentiments indiscriminately. Parker and Sparhawk work best in slow bars, their breath held, taking the stripped down ethos of rock music and applying it to dreamy baroque pop. Tweedy's work on production duties does due credit to their songwriting, elevating that baroque aspect while also giving it an Americana tinge. Low is not cherry picking country tropes, though; Jeff's work goes to show a side of their music which was always present but never predominant until now, the ancient blues aesthetic that colors much of their vocal melodies without becoming too overplayed to feel kitsch.
Each song on The Invisible Way is like an exact idea captured in amber, so I do not really consider the context of where they are sequenced to be that important. I am led along by their intertwined melodies, and captured by the utterly palpable anguish and pain in many of them, each slow verse another chance for their affecting lyricism to shine through. On such simple arrangements, they sell desolation more effectively than ever, in whatever form it fits. It so happens that much of it relies on the piano, the stand out element of the record, which carries much of the album's strongest material. I find myself appreciating the softer chords between choruses, little human moments of empathy before the storm. There are weaker songs, sure—both Sparhawk-led songs "Clarence White" and "Mother" on this record seem a little too faltering and histrionic—but they never damage the larger image or the flow of the record. Mimi's contributions, meanwhile, are probably the best in a while from her, holding most of the vocal duties and dominating the album's most powerful points.
Low plays on familiar sentiments and does it slowly, so that the times they resonate with the listeners, they make that resonance last longer and feel more impactful. For me, this is such contexual music; the time I hear it and the way I feel when I listen to it will forever affect my perception of it. In that way, the simplicity of the music leaves so much space for interpretation. From the cryptic sorrow of the lyrics to the actual instruments used to Tweedy's keen deconstruction of their sound, Low leaves the biggest spaces in their songs as places to store your own reservations and emotions, to impart your own feelings onto their canvas. This happens again and again, beautifully and delicately.
samples:
 
Kinski's first record in a few years sounds like a good band stuck between two polar opposite sides of their own creative influences. This time around, they lean heavy on grungy punk rock and fast tempos, leaving much of the slower bits to stagnate. The guitar work, whose slow burn melodies always seemed like a savvy subversion of their normally intended purpose, are played straight for most of the songs to compliment the lyrics. While this is definitely a new direction for the band, it is hard to say if it will be embraced by fans who preferred these elements more subtly.
"Long Term Exit Strategy" might be the most misleading song to begin the album; almost a sarcastic misdirection, it is a traditionally long form Kinski space rock composition that grinds slowly against its seven minute running time like a begrudged anthem. From there, however, the band falls into a short form, punky hard rock template that it rarely escapes from. Hot headed and hooky, the next few shorter songs—especially "Last Day On Earth" and "Riff Dad"—feel gleaned from the playbook of classic grunge, and even pop punk at times. "Throw It Up" has a chugging bluesy cadence to it that might have fared better at a slower tempo, but survives well enough as a melodic garage rock workout.
Similarly, "A Little Ticker Tape Never Hurt Anybody" serves as an instrumental bridge to the end of the album, combining no wave low-distortion guitar with propulsive drumming, but it can at times feel like a play-by-numbers rehash of alt rock's most famous staples. "Conflict Free Diamonds" is a late highlight for its beckoning verses, its stutter start-and-stop melody tailored to live performances with plenty of dancing, and Kinski's irreverent lyrical sparseness, starting the song in a storyteller's focus and proceeding to fall haphazardly into an explosive solo break. "We Think She's A Nurse" is another later moment that stands out among the rest, another instrumental song that pits the album's most prominent synthesizers against the rivets of cymbals, white noise, and processed guitar, turning it into a display of glittering ambience and obfuscation that belies the rest of the album's straightforward nature.
Kinski has a strange mixture to work with on this album, trying to redeem a homogenous sound by running their own innate style into it. It is a choice a lot of bands make when they are trying to preach the quality of their core songwriting, and they have grown up listening to enough success stories to know how to play it. Still, this album is not a totally convincing effort, often slipping into vagueness when the band runs out of ideas. It survives on its strong tracks alone, which are plenty of fun, even if they never quite sound like Kinski.
samples:
 
Situated right in the middle of West Africa's musical hotbed (Ghana and Nigeria are close neighbors), the country of Burkina Faso has remained relatively unanthologized thus far, a situation that Analog Africa's Samy Ben Redjeb decided to remedy after hearing Amadou Ballaké's "Renouveau."  Unfortunately, Ballaké was not exactly the tip of a great iceberg of undiscovered brilliance–he was very nearly the entire damn iceberg.  That said, there are definitely a few other good songs by other artists on Bambara Mystic Soul, but almost half of the album is consumed by Ballaké and he is very much the star of the show (deservedly).
As is usually the case with Analog Africa compilations, the story of how this album came into being is at least as fascinating as the actual music.  For example, the aforementioned "Renouveau" record was part of a trove Redjeb unearthed in Niger, where it improbably survived for 30 years in an extremely hot and sand-filled environment where the preservation of records is basically the least of people's concerns.  Then came the requisite detective work and tireless scavenging, where he had the good fortune to locate a box containing the entire catalogue of Burkina's most popular '70s label (CVD).  Of course, he also had the very bad fortune of being mugged at gunpoint in Togo, then of being the hapless mediator between a very angry Ballaké and his former record company (who later ended up breaking Redjeb's contract by selling the same "exclusive" songs to another label).
Whether or not all that effort was worth it is hard to say, as I am a fairly casual, non-blog-scavenging fan of Africa music and see Bambara Mystic Soul as one of Analog Africa's lesser compilations, albeit one with a handful of fine songs.  For more serious fans, however, some of this material may be absolutely revelatory: Ballaké is fairly major figure in African music circles and the songs that Redjeb found are both extremely rare and from a period which many consider to be Amadou's prime (his later work is less raw).  In fact, I have even seen a blog that was excited to post a single from this period that was ripped from a damaged record–even somewhat mangled work from this period is considered well-worth hearing.  Also, after tracking down the whole CVD catalog from the scene's prime, finding and interviewing all the major players, and providing an absolutely overwhelming amount of information and background in his liner notes, Redjeb has basically dropped the definitive Burkina Faso collection: there is absolutely nothing he left that still needs to be done.  While I sure there are a number of great songs that are not included, I am equally sure that it is because they either could not be found or that Redjeb simply could not secure the necessary rights.
As aforementioned, Ballaké completely steals the show, though his numerous backing bands deserve a lot of the credit.  Though originally a percussionist, it is Ballaké's soulful voice that made him a legend.  As great as that voice is, however, I was equally impressed by the guitar-work on most of his songs, particularly the clean, hypnotically repeating riff in "Johnny" (courtesy of l'Orchestre Super Volta).  All of Amadou's included songs are invariably quite good though.  In general, Ballaké's more sultry, languorous work was with Les 5 Consuls ("Renouveau" and "Baden Djougou"), while his other incarnations are bit more funky and American soul-indebted, but there are exceptions.  Curiously, it is rare for any distinctly "African" percussion to appear, which is why this collection initially underwhelmed me a bit.  Most of Bambara Mystic Soul sounds like it could have been played by a '70s American soul or funk band, rhythm-section-wise, though it is admittedly more repetitive and raw.  Without the mesmerizing repetition and the awesome guitarists, many of these songs would sound like mere pastiches, albeit good ones.
Of course, there are some noteworthy exceptions, as the non-Ballaké selections are far from dire.  In particular, the two songs from Mamo Legbama stand out, largely because he is a very charismatic (if a bit hammy) frontman.  The hard funk of "Music, Love, and Dance" is probably his finest moment, as I especially enjoyed his amusing use of high-pitched female backing singers.  His "Zambo Zambo" is also great though, boasting a very vibrant, roiling groove and some very likable turns by his guitarist, horn section, and organist.  Mangue Konde's "Kobendo" is also quite catchy, blending breezy Highlife-style guitars with some very propulsive and spirited percussion.  The other songs that caught and held my attention usually did so for the wrong reasons though, as Compaoré Issouf's "Dambakale" sounds a lot like a relentlessly cheery soundtrack to a terrible '70s porno, while Orchestre CVD's "Rog Mik Africa" initially sounds like a live Allman Brothers jam.
The remainder of the songs are generally quite good, but mostly lack the uniqueness that I am looking for when listening to music from a faraway place and time, though a few pieces succeed simply because they appropriate American funk/soul and regurgitate it in harder, more frenzied form (Abdoulaye Cissé and Coulibaly Tidiani, for example).  Ultimately, this is a solid  and exhaustively researched compilation, which I suppose is a success, but I have been so spoiled by the recent spate of great African music compilations that I am left a little disappointed whenever there is not at least one song that sends me obsessively searching for the rest of an artist's oeuvre.  More succinctly, I respect rather than love this compilation: Redjeb certainly poured his heart into his work, but it just just did not connect with me as much as some of his others.  Other people might feel very differently, however (music is quite subjective, you know), and those lucky people will be rewarded with all the information they could possibly want to embark upon an epic scavenger hunt centered around Amadou Ballaké and his unsung contemporaries.
 
The 49 Americans were a collision of proficient, working musicians and enthusiastic amateurs, one of many projects in the often improvised history of the London Musicians Collective. The inspired, thoughtful, jaunty tunefulness of We Know Nonsense is partly inspired by Julie Andrews.
The 49 Americans had so many members that several of them never actually met the others. Such was the project’s commitment to democracy that at early concerts no one was allowed to play the same instrument from one song to the next. This meant songs took considerably less time to perform than instrument switching breaks between songs, with members consulting various charts and checklists.
The group formed at the behest of Andrew Brenner, aka "Giblet," who writes or co-writes most of the pieces on this beautiful reissue. As a teenager moving from the US to London in the late 1970s he discovered the DIY ethos where "three chords made a band, photocopying made a fanzine and putting a cassette tape onto a plastic disc made a record label." The first expression of Giblet’s creativity was to form the band Buddy Hernia and the Rickets, fusing teenage-rock parody with a gleeful celebration of inability. That sounds absolutely dreadful, but The 49 Americans were rather magnificent and would come come to make We Know Nonsense, which is included in Wire magazine’s "100 records that set the world on fire (while no one was listening)."
Giblet drew other members in as he pushed the ethos of collectivity, liberty, participation, and the notion that "Happy music doesn’t have to be dumb." The Rickets were invited to an evening watching tapes of Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music after which they created the track "Julie Andrews" for The 49 Americans’ 14 track debut single (the longest single possible - a triumph of quantity). Two unsuccessful London buskers were recruited and, at a seaside festival in Brighton, Giblet made the acquaintance of Lol Coxhill (soprano & vocals), Steve Beresford (euphonium), Peter Cusack (guitar), Paul Burwell (drums), Terry Day (cello) and Max Eastley and David Toop (african one-string fiddle) aka The Promenaders- all of whom would play in The 49 Americans, along with Viv Goldman and Viv Albertine of The Slits and many others. The names are unimportant, though, as this was to be as ego-free as possible with all involved engaged in "an experiment in the pursuit of happiness."
The discovery of the London Musicians Collective was a further catalyst, since membership meant use of a free performance space, a huge old railway building in Camden. Variant magazine has a history of the LMC told in the words of those who were in it, such people as Burwell, Ed Baxter, one of The Frank Chickens, David Toop, and far too many others to mention. What emerges is the spirit of the place with factions, hopeless membership meetings, exuberant workshops designed to "de-emphasize the soloist," or achieve collective music by "atomising" sound before reforming it into layers: all of this somehow being the grit from which pearls could sometimes be made. There were Aeolian harps tied onto the roof, revolving glass coffee tables played with chunks of polystyrene, the floor flooded to create the Mississippi river, evenings devoted to Inuit culture and so on.
Attending the LMC, as non-or relatively inept musicians meant some conflict with the original free-jazz guys who had first used the place, but also a welcome and patient collaboration between those highly proficient and adventurous musicians who saw value in sharing energy and ideas with newcomers. It also meant having to nip next door to a film collective’s place to use the bathroom - since toilets were not included in the LMC space.
From the outside, if anyone else was aware of its existence, presumably the political Left might have mistakenly thought this communal space would encourage staunch protest and deep sincerity, while the Right could have incorrectly assumed that it was a hotbed of political correctness where alternate versions of nursery rhymes deemed offensive were being incubated, along with the the occasional paeon to the entire rainbow of sexualty. Against this backdrop, and that of the early years of Thatcherism, it is deeply satisfying to imagine The 49 Americans, primed by an evening watching the full-on antics of the Von Trapp Family or Dick van Dyke, launching into their tunes, for no better reason than their own enjoyment and just for the very doing of it.
This CD version of We Know Nonsense comes with 23 bonus tracks from their debut LP and EP across a range of styles: bossa nova, African tin-whistle, doo wop, scratchy punk-funk, and more. The songs mainly concentrate on clear and thoughtful vocals, however, which allows them to almost float above influence and genre. The singing is flat at times but always has a quizzical charm. The title track, along with "Liberty," "It's Time," and the wonderful "I Be Later," are exuberant, crafty, humble and joyous recordings. A greater proportion of the more proficient musicians were used for We Know Nonsense, as the group decided they wanted it to be their best possible effort. This is cheerful yet erudite music, a free and easy mix of philosophy and polite exclamation with an overriding sense of democratic participation and a strong insistence upon its inherent lack of importance.
The history and legacy of the London Musicians Collective is also the topic of Get a Haircut And Disappear, a radio documentary by Nick Hamilton with a broad range of music and interviews with Clive Bell, David Toop, Paul Burwell, Ed Baxter and others. It was originally broadcast on Resonance.FM, a station which to a great extent revels in the adventurous spirit and welcoming ethos of the Colllective.
On this terse (ten minutes exactly) little 7" single, Canada's master of harsh noise walls indulges in his sonic obsessions once again. Sam McKinlay proves that for a style associated with monochromatic approaches, there is much more to be explored, even if edges just so slightly into uncomfortable.
Sourced from the sounds of wood, knives, and nylon and paired with the cover art, Sam McKinlay is definitely going for the giallo horror theme that defines his Vice Wears Black Hose collaboration with Richard Ramirez."Dark Eyebrow Angled Toward the Nylon" is classic Rita: sharp, serrated waves of sound that is overdriven into fatiguing, clipping levels.It stays pretty much the same throughout its five minutes:at low volumes it makes for a nice study in abrasive textures.Cranked up, it is as jarring and punishing as any good harsh noise should be.
The other side of the vinyl, "Dark Eyebrow Angled Toward the Thigh," is actually a bit more spacious, if still overwhelmingly oppressive as it goes on.The noise is pushed even more into the jagged, sawtooth realms to almost sound more like hardware glitches and malfunctions rather than harsh noise.Film dialog is introduced, sometimes intelligible and other times not, but eventually becomes overwhelmed by the noise that, again, is unpleasant in the best possible way until it finally devolves into a traditional harsh noise wave of white noise and reverberated static.
Rather than just sounding like a broken AM radio (like much of this subgenre does), McKinlay layers his sound distinctly, often overdriven to the point of only the smallest fragments of noise become audible. This is a great single that does exactly what it should without any pretense.I would have not been able to handle much more than a 7" single, however, and I mean that as a compliment!
