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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Of all the Piehead releases this year, the ninth in the monthly series from Accelera Deck was the one I was most interested in hearing. Having loved some of his earlier work and then really despised his last EP, I waited for Hereafter wondering which Accelera Deck would turn up. As it turns out, I'm quite taken with most of the tunes here, and there's only one that leaves me scratching my head, wondering what the hell is supposed to be going on. For the first three tracks of the disc, the ambient drone, guitar noise Accelera Deck is in full play, and these pieces work well in creating atmosphere and momentum. Feedback and mic noise and guitar buzzing is easily coxed into a world of loops and textures that create a sometimes playful, sometimes menacing environment. "Fireflies" devoles from a pretty ambient excusrion into sputtering clicks and noise that lead into the disc's only real weakness. And for all its clicks and digital abstractions, I was even with the meandering "Wide Awake" until about the five minute mark when I threw up my hands and yelled "What is the point?" It sounds like the song just goes into algorhithmic auto-pilot and while the programming and synthesis at work might itself be interesting on a conceptual level, it's just not a fun listen. Experimentation and risk-taking like this is commendable, but artists who bank on it need to be able to recognize when it works and when it flops. After the all-out glich assault of "Wide Awake", the melody of "Immacualte" sounds almost overly-sentimental, but it's a beautiful and welcome rest from the noise. The record closes with soft, reverb-drenched chords that echo out into the ether, brining the journey of Hereafter to a purposeful and appropriate end. The disc clocks in at only 37 minutes, but the great majority of those are minutes worth exploring and embracing. 
Buoy, the latest from DJ Olive,is a strong departure from the blunted beats and urban soundscapes for which he is most well known. Following closely on the heels of his participation in another Room40 release, the Melatonin compilation that was centered around themes of sleep, Buoy provides a single 60+ minute track of sleepy alpha wave drones and dream state murmurs. This is womb music: syrupy liquid sounds humming and surrounding everything with a warm, fluid bath. There are faint noises from the outside world that occassionally trickle in, but the vast majority of Buoy is an isolated and insulated swirl that feels as smooth as it does effortless. Unlike the compositions for which Olive coined the term, "illbient," this piece is clearly centered around a comforting ambience that hints at both solace and protection. It's interesting in that respect that the disc is all drone and pulse and electronic tone, but it never sounds dark. A similar set of ingredients in Olive's hands many years ago might have given way to something a little more unsettling or disquiet, but Buoy remains calm and unthreatening. While his instructions on the inside of the CD case suggest playing the disc as quietly as possible, a dark room, a thick blanket, and the headphones turned up to ten would be my recommendation. ICR
Steven Stapleton and Colin Potter's voluntary three-month banishment tothe icy realms of Lofoten, Norway has borne fruit in the form of thisdouble album on ICR. As was reported, these two prime movers ofexperimental sound were sent high above the Arctic Circle May throughJuly of this year, with limited recording equipment and no musicalinstruments, to record a series of audio responses to their harshenvironment, which were then transmitted to the local mariner's radiostation at unannounced intervals. Stapleton and Potter have furtheredited and processed the original broadcasts, ending up with a total oftwo hours of sound, seven lengthy tracks. Shipwreck Radioworks best when Stapleton and Potter seem to be genuinely interactingand responding to their alien, inhospitable environment, rather thanfalling back on familiar NWW strategies. The microcosmic sound world ofice slowly melting and cracking apart merge with the lonely, distantcalls of arctic seabirds on the compelling "June 17," which slowlybackslides into glacial crevasse where a mutually indecipherableconversation between Stapleton and a Norwegian child is repeatedlylooped and mutated. Each track is named for the date that it wasbroadcast, and a handy map of the Lofoten Archipelago is printed on thediscs themselves, showing the geographical location where eachrecording was made. When the artists seem to be most engaged with theirenvironment — forming makeshift percussion out of blocks of ice, partsof vessels and disused metal scrap and transforming recordings ofarctic creatures, water runoff and wind tunnel noises into organicdrones — Shipwreck Radio really clicks as an album and aconcept. On the opposite end of the spectrum are tracks like thealbum's opener "June 15," which renders the source recordingscompletely unrecognizable, digitally processing them into a distorted,post-industrial rhythmic dirge that wears out its welcome well beforethe ten-minute mark has been reached. Colin Potter's droning muse seemsto have exerted a stronger influence on disc two, which exploitsenvironmental noises and subtle looping and processing to createtextural expanses of beautifully chilly ambience. "June 5" sounds likean orchestra slowly succumbing to the pulse-deadening effects ofhypothermia, stretching out each chord to epic lengths, as ever moreminute bits of audio detritus pan around the stereo channels. As thealbum trudges on, things become darker, more menacing and moresluggish, perhaps as a result of the inevitable fatigue experienced insuch a hostile environment where the sun unmercifully shines for nearly24 hours each day. There is an organic, impromptu feel to much of thismusic that lends it an immediacy not usually experienced with NurseWith Wound music, which often seems rather painstakingly processed,mutated and generally tortured to within an inch of its life. Thishelps the album operate as a sort of freeform travelogue or audiodiary. The first edition of 100 copies came with a bonus disc, Lofoten Deadhead(a reference to the excerpted bit of Norwegian radio where a localexplains why the Grateful Dead is "the ultimate band"), which containsmore variations on the same audio sources, as well as a 30-minute trackof untreated recordings of Stapleton and Potter experimenting withdifferent methods of creating compelling noises from theirsurroundings, fussing about with objects and arguing with each other.It's unfortunate that this was not included on the album proper, as itis both entertaining and provides a glimpse into the duo's workingmethods that enriches the material on the other two discs. Takentogether, even with its momentary lapses of originality, Shipwreck Radio is a fascinating entry in both artists' substantial discographies.
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Knowing that there could be voices around us all the time that are simply very difficult to hear is a bit of an unsettling notion. A small essay provided on this release and written by Konstantin Raudive outlines how to record what he calls "voice-phenomenon."Andrew Liles
The essay details proper tape speeds and proper procedure for recording the voices of ghosts and it also goes on to classify three different kinds of voices that seem to be most numerous in his work. The third type of voice, the one that even a trained ear finds difficulty hearing and understanding, is the the kind that populates Andrew Liles' reconstruction of the excellent Bass Communion record, Ghosts on Magnetic Tape. Liles continues to make me wonder at his disposition, I'm always torn between supposing he's a very haunted, talented individual and the image of him as a medium between this world and that of monsters, demons, and phantoms. His music has always been on the creepier side of the extended tone and at times he can be outright disturbing in his presentation. His reconstruction of Bass Communion's album incorporates pseudo voices into a music whose soul was already suffused with essence of the unknown. Each of the five tracks is the owner of a unique voice; the reconstruction of "Ghosts on Magnetic Tape II" begins with the sound of a choir of angels echoing inside the belly of sunken cathedral — bells ringing, organ choking, and water crushing through each second. It doesn't take long before a whisper pinches in through the wall of sound, running its fingers over my ears, and passing like a wind through the smallest opening in a window. It's a shocking moment because it's so convincing: I'm led to believe this must be a genuine recording. Whether or not it's actually the voice of an individual who no longer touches the physical plain is questionable. Perhaps it's the soul of an individual through sound and perhaps it is a trick played on the self through the imagination. I prefer to believe in the former. At times I'm tricked into believing this record is safe; there is no trepidation in me and the almost liquid rolling of hums and sparks seem welcoming. Liles is not to be trusted because he will open up a chasm of fear so quickly that any apparent tranquility that follows will seem immediately imposing and capable of psychological scrambling. This album was limited to 1,000 copies, 200 of which came signed, numbered, and contained a special photograph. The music inside is far more rare than the record itself, however. I'm beginning to have trouble deciding whether this is music or a method for the living to come to know the dead. It feels almost religous at times and elsewhere it is tense and disturbing. It just doesn't feel like it belongs on the earth at times.
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North East Indie
This Rosetta Stone of the Shoal catalog is finally re-released viatheir ever loyal current label for the first time since its vinyl-onlypressing in 1995. Their first 12" LP, originally self-released at 1000copies, shows the band at their earliest stages: a noodling,hard-edged, and often very derivative ensemble. Influences are so clearthey're transparent, with vocal performances almost ripped off frombands that were their contemporaries or their predecessors, anddynamics that bring to mind seminal recordings that helped shape orredefine whole genres of experimental music. Not to say that the bandisn't speaking with its own voice even on these songs, as there aretinges and aesthetics present that are still in play with their oeuvretoday, some ten years later. There is something to be said, though,that they were still searching for the right mix of the elements toinspire themselves and win over the masses. Maybe searching for theright members, as well, since the band is famous for a rotating cast ofcharacters that changed at least from album to album and sometimes inthe midst of recording one. At any rate, there's still a few momentsworthy of awe or discussion, and plenty to keep the mind racing on acold winter night. "Elena" has bright melodies and spoken word buriedin its subconscious, where "Change" leaves nothing below the surface orto the imagination, with explosive guitars, screams, and loud "oohs"that howl on and on as the heat increases. The key track, though, isthe penultimate "Breakaway Cable Terminal," with a gorgeous mix of theold and the new, the odd vocal performance mixed with the rawaggression but quieter jam moments framing both. There's even a hiddentrack, released presumably for the first time, as an added extra forthe loyalists. Cerberus Shoal are vital, original, and extreme, anduntil now some might have believed that it hasn't always been this way.Finally the truth can be told.
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Morr
Collaborations have sometimes strengthened the work of the artistsinvolved, and have expanded their sometimes limited reach, but oftentimes they are also lackluster, producing yet more doubt anduncertainty as well as boredom in the clicks and blips that fly out ofthe speakers and through the air. Duo505 do not have such problems, asthe music contained on their debut is a perfect collaboration wheremaestros and messrs. B. Fleischmann and Herbert Weixelbaum take turnswaxing philosophical to transcend their own individual sound. One ofthe two will produce a track and send it to the other, where a secondtrack is added of the second collaborator's design. Two tracks, each anextension of the other — even though they were made at separate times —that merge in and out of each other's safe space in a truly dynamic andunique waver. Almost imperceptible is each man's part in theproceedings, but it's as though one handles the beat and melody, andthe other the trimmings, then vice versa on the following track. Thesetwo know each other so well that it is an almost effortless creation ofcerebral concoctions. "Nochwas" is ready for the clubs, a trounce andbounce frolic that soars and thumps at the same time; "Facing It" is ametallurgist nightmare of clangs and rolls that still mesmerizes.Through every track there is a connection that can't be underestimated,and live these two must be a treat to behold. On record, they arenothing short of a vision, or, like the Trans Am track title says, asingle ray of light on an otherwise cloudy day.
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~scape
For this jaded, disgruntled music critic, there is little more gratingthan a concept release that defines its intended strategy, executes iteffectively, and ultimately comes out sounding like a complete waste oftime and energy. With the aptly titled Nocturnes, False Dawns & Breakdowns,his second album for ~scape, Berlin-based Andrew Peklar quietly combatsthat all-too-common quandary with an ear-pleasing fusion of postmidnight jazz and electronic atmospheres. Drawing considerableinspiration from legends such as Miles Davis and Sun Ra, Peklarcomposes somber, mysterious noirish landscapes that both complement thethematic darkness and pay homage to his musical predecessors. The briefopening track "Here Comes The Night," a swaggeringly slow dirge, setsthe stage for the bulk of the consistently grim and pensive materialthat follows. From there, "Arches" leads with keyboard melodies anddrumming of increasing intensity, peaking with a near cacophony thatstill somehow maintains a sense of confident control. "Wait" introducessoft yet meaningful horn playing, treated with a delay that meshes wellwith the glitchy pastiche of percussive and airy elements. The quirkyand distinctly loop-based "Stardusting" specifically reminds of JanJelinek's work for the label with its sampler intermittently stutteringone specific section amidst the comparatively subtler cut-ups. "InCircles" toys with twinkling xylophone tones before fading into"Nocturne 3", where ambient noise bleeds through the deep bass anddisplaced voices, held together by a certain trip-hop sensibility."False Dawns" finds itself stuck between the preceeding tracks and adigital dub asthetic more characteristic of the ~scape roster, veeringat times into a soundtrack of the climax of some paranoiac sciencefiction film. Much like with labelmate Jan Jelinek's forward thinking Loop Finding Jazz Records,careful headphone-aided analysis of these tracks reveals approximateloop points and edit markers, though for true appreciation it should belistened to without quasi-scientific consideration of its technicalmake-up. While woefully concise at under 40 minutes, Nocturnes, False Dawns & Breakdownsacts as a brief window into a private world only found in the earlyhours, and only accessible to those willing to stay awake for it.
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Excellent use of dynamics is what allows this album to succeed. Topping 70 minutes, Eye on the Steel ranges from sparse, eerie crackling sounds to massive bursts of pulsating drones. There are 11 untitled tracks, but the set sounds as if it is one piece, with indexes placed at points at which there are major shifts in sound.
Track One builds up to a crescendo of swarming noise over a steady pulse. Menche uses this pulse to build tension without the track sounding rhythmic at all. Although many of the tracks are long, they need to be in order for layers of sound to slowly accumulate. On Track Six minimal rhythmic popping sounds are gradually overtaken by short, sharp, bass-heavy rhythms and loud piercing drones until the track is in a completely different territory from where it started. It is impressive that Menche has created so many different moods out of what seems to be the same sound sources. Buzzing sounds, extremely shrill tones that sound like sirens or alarms and many different crackling sounds are used on all of these tracks in different ways. The same static sounds that create a push and pull tension on Track Two are used much more sparsely on Track Six, creating a whole different, almost calming atmosphere. Track Five's whirling tones blended so effortlessly with the wind rustling outside my windows that I had to check to see if the wind sounds were coming from the CD or from outside. Menche's strength is that he makes the most out of the few sounds he chooses. Elements that are usually used in techno, such as the clicking, shuffling sounds that dance from speaker to speaker in Track Six, are interesting because he has removed them from their usual context. By placing these sounds among whirling, high pitched drones he references both minimal techno and abstract drone based music, while the result sounds like neither. The relatively quiet crackle of tracks seven, eight and nine make the tenth track sound all the more powerful, with its return to the noisy qualities of the first track. Eye on the Steel required more than one listen for me to catch all of the nuances Menche has used to create its shifting atmospheres.
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Mark McGee, formerly of To Kill A Petty Bourgeoisie, has partnered up with a new female vocalist, Nicole Tollefson, to follow the path he pioneered in his previous band, combining harsh, noisy electronics and guitar with pure, delicate female vocals to excellent effect, although it seems that the harsher end of the spectrum has been reigned in somewhat.
Where TKAPB would drift into especially raw electronic territory, McGee keeps that in check here, but never becoming too dull or predictable.The sparse, messy backing and over-driven bass thud of "Ocean" is by no means serene, especially paired with Tollefson's delicate, high pitched vocals.The wordless opening vocals of "We Give and Give and You Take and Take and Take and Take" and distant percussion are especially airy, even if it is mucked up brilliantly with scattershot, industrial tinged rhythms as the piece goes on.
On "Teratoma" and "Don't Be Mad at Me," a bit of McGee's harsher edge comes out, the former initially propelled by junky percussion, but then throws out a good helping of distorted noise outbursts, balancing between chaos and purity before allowing the noise to win at the end.The latter is the longest track here, and uses the extended duration to build jerky rhythms and dramatic vocals from an initially textural undercurrent.Here especially the juxtaposition of ugly and beautiful is the most obvious.
The short "Lungs" is mostly Tollefson's voice, layered and looped into a hazy piece of abstraction that is comparatively more stripped down and simple compared to the other songs on here.The closing "Edmund" goes in a different direction, keeping the up-front voices but bringing in identifiable guitar and almost jazz-laden drums, but still throws in a few outbursts of vacuum cleaner noise.
At six tracks and a little under a half-hour, it's hard to see how Father You See Queen with stand up next to To Kill A Petty Bourgeoisie, especially since there are some notable similarities between the two projects.However, those similarities include McGee's brilliant balancing of dissonant noise and delicate, beautiful vocals, so they’re definitely on the right track.
Following up their acclaimed debut LP The Persistence of Meaning, this Brooklyn duo of Joshua Convey and Luke Krnkr serve up another release of dark, mysterious murk that channels krautrock as much as harsh noise. With an A side that goes for more musical elements, and a harsher, disjointed B side, the combination works wonderfully.
The A side begins with "Go Forth and Die," initially a slow, brittle drum machine pulse and barely controlled sharp, high end feedback that may or may not be a heavily treated guitar.Buried, almost hidden vocals eventually arise, reshaping the piece with subtle, but noticeable changes.The track perfectly segues into "Roses in the Snow", which is a more ambient piece collected from the disintegrated fragments of the previous one.With its looped, mantra-like structure and continued oddly treated guitar, there's definitely more than a passing resemblance to mid-period Main, with a few extra layers of grime added.
On the flip side, the long "NoWhere" shows its dissonant character immediately, with what sounds like a looped computer data tape run through distortion.Slowly, the rhythmic loop becomes more and more complex, with a buzzsaw guitar line and harsher, abstract noise piled atop.It’s a wall of chaotic, glorious noise that stretches out for nearly 15 minutes, while never losing that pulsing lurch below it.
With the first half of this tape demonstrating the duo's more musical exploits, and the other letting the feedback and noise fly, the balance between the two is perfectly struck.The first two tracks especially come across brilliantly with its obscured vocals and melodic throb, but the noisier piece is no slouch either.For a project that's still relatively young, Ithi has already proven themselves quite ably.
In an unexpected move, Front 242's Daniel Bressanutti has rejoined former member Dirk Bergen (who left soon after the Geography album) to start this new project, heavily rooted in classic analog synth technology and an apparent love of the Blade Runner soundtrack. While being spread across two discs comes across as excessive, there's still a good album’s worth of tracks in here.
With "Marcel Proust (VLEGM)" leading off the first disc with sweeping synth strings and a clipped, resonating bass sequence, NBN sets the mood early on, as a cinematic album that manages to be both understated and bombastic at the same time."Silenzio Monofoniche"'s haunting, echoing synth passages are shaped into creaking, shrill layers of sound that are eventually met with a sequenced bassline, though structurally it’s more disjointed than most on here.
"Mooglish" leads off with the rhythmic throb, but with higher register synth bleeps and lush strings.A healthy bit of dissonance kicks in later on, never too much but a clear and powerful use of contrasting sounds."S2cond S7ven" stands out with its introduction of mangled, inhuman voices on gently rolling synth pads, again creating a balance of dissonance and melody that’s pretty vibrant overall.
With its percussive thump and heavily bass-driven structure, "Puzzle Cosmique" is mostly a rhythmic piece, but enshrouded by an almost formless snowdrift of synths, much like the long "Mass", which takes its time locking into its taut, rhythmic structure.It especially is quite cinematic, but far too active and dynamic to work as film score music, because it simply commands too much attention.
The other longer piece on the album, the clumsily named "CK a) 242 Hurtz b) Vorspiel" is probably the one that works the best on here.Opening with deep, dissonant bass layers and shrill, almost feedback like synth outbursts, it’s the bleakest and most abstract of the pieces, and the icy synths are just the icing on the cake.While none of the other songs here would fit into some trite new age mold, this one especially resists that label.
Nothing But Noise manages to embrace a sound that’s deeply rooted in the late 1970s/early 1980s, but without sounding overly dated or cliché.There is a distinct similarity to Vangelis' Blade Runner score, but it is more inspiration than duplication.The constant use of synth pads and sequenced bass lines does cause one track to bleed too much into the other, but having too much of a good thing isn't necessarily a problem.
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