After two weekends away, the backlog has become immense, so we present a whopping FOUR new episodes for the spooky season!
Episode 717 features Medicine, Fennesz, Papa M, Earthen Sea, Nero, memotone, Karate, ØKSE, Otis Gayle, more eaze, Jon Mueller, and Lauren Auder + Wendy & Lisa.
Episode 718 has The Legendary Pink Dots, Throbbing Gristle, Von Spar / Eiko Ishibashi / Joe Talia / Tatsuhisa Yamamoto, Ladytron, Cate Brooks, Bill Callahan, Jill Fraser, Angelo Harmsworth, Laibach, and Mike Cooper.
Episode 719 music by Angel Bat Dawid, Philip Jeck, A.M. Blue, KMRU, Songs: Ohia, Craven Faults, tashi dorji, Black Rain, The Ghostwriters, Windy & Carl.
Episode 720 brings you tunes from Lewis Spybey, Jules Reidy, Mogwai, Surya Botofasina, Patrick Cowley, Anthony Moore, Innocence Mission, Matt Elliott, Rodan, and Sorrow.
Photo of a Halloween scene in Ogunquit by DJ Jon.
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Atlanta-based Deerhunter are set to release Microcastle, the follow-up to 2006’s Cryptograms on October 28, 2008. Microcastle will be released simultaneously on CD and LP via Kranky in North America and 4AD for the rest of the world.
Microcastle was recorded over the course of a week at Rare Book Studios in Brooklyn, New York with Nicolas Verhes. The album was recorded as a four-piece consisting of Bradford Cox, Lockett Pundt, Joshua Fauver, and Moses Archuleta.
"Saved by Old Times" features a vocal collage by Cole Alexander of the Black Lips. The album also features two songs with lead vocals by guitarist Lockett Pundt: "Agoraphobia," and "Neither of Us, Uncertainly."
The first single “Nothing Ever Happened b/w “:Little Kids (demo) will be issued as limited edition 7” vinyl and precede the album.
Deerhunter are also confirmed to support Nine Inch Nails at arenas from coast-to-coast.. Expect more touring in late October and November in support of the new album. Tracklist and tour dates below.
Tracklist SIDE A 1. Cover Me (Slowly) 2. Agoraphobia 3. Never Stops 4. Little Kids 5. Microcastle 6. Calvary Scars 7. Green Jacket 8. Activa
SIDE B 9. Nothing Ever Happened 10. Saved by Old Times 11. Neither of Us, Uncertainly 12. Twilight at Carbon Lake
Tour Dates w/ Nine Inch Nails unless noted The Village Tavern Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina Aug 1 The Boot Norfolk, Virginia Aug 5 Air Canada Centre w/ Nine Inch Nails Toronto, Ontario, Ontario Aug 6 Big Orbit’s Soundlab Buffalo, New York Aug 7 Mohegan Sun Arena w/ Nine Inch Nails Uncasville, Connecticut Aug 8 DCU Center w/ Nine Inch Nails Worcester, Massachusetts Aug 10 Garfield Artworks Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Aug 11 123 Pleasant Street Morgantown, West Virginia Aug 12 Knoxville Civic Coliseum w/ Nine Inch Nails Knoxville, Tennessee Aug 13 Gwinnett Arena w/ Nine Inch Nails Duluth, Georgia Sep 2 Red Rock Pavillion w/ Nine Inch Nails Morrison, Colorado Sep 3 E Center w/ Nine Inch Nails Salt Lake City, Utah Sep 5 Oracle Arena w/ Nine Inch Nails Oakland, California Sep 6 The Forum w/ Nine Inch Nails Read More
G-Force marks a clear transitionary period from the post-industrial sounds of London to the techno sounds of Tricky Disco and GTO. The package includes all the music from both singles "I Don't Need God" and "Utopia" plus the Index EP, various compilation tracks, and music from the Japanese-only VHS tape Video Drug 1, available on CD for the first time ever.
"Dancefloor Surrealists - and that's just the half of it - GTO construct collages of multi-lingual samples and wacked-out noises to cover their technological tracks. G-Force is a cartwheeling combination of Steinski's nimble feet and The Young Gods' operatic gusto, all stitched together by St. Winifred's style choir chanting devil-worship slogans in the middle distance. "Ich Liebe Dich Mein Prinz" energizes ethnic wailing seemingly recorded through a snorkel, and "Black Magic" impales minimalist vocals onto a wiry violin while sevarel Daleks dance themselves dizzy in the studio. Fragments of MC 900 FT Jesus's harsh, dislocated chatter and Front 242's leather-clad New Beat throb abound, with tons of Acidic sparks and dadaist references tossed in for extra momentum. But the weirdest, simplest track here is "Why Do Men Have Nipples?," marrying snatches of American dating-game show dialogue with a toe-tapping tape-loop of numb percussion." - Stephen Dalton, NME
"Greater Than One have clear affinities with the sonic terrorism approach…as well as the grindingly austere "body music" movement flourishing in Europe, but their own work has an edge of with that's definitely their own." – Jonathan Romney, The Guardian
"Greater Than One are yet another group who are popular in Europe. They fit loosely into the new genre of Front Line Assembly, Click Click, and the lesser purveyors of the new beat. But their redeeming quality is that they don't shout over their hybrid of techno sound sculpture. Here they toy with crisp snares, clean beats and the occasional acid bass line. They Sample amusing commentary from American TV shows, and steal one-liners from Peter Sellers. Occasionally, GTO suggest they would be capable of crafting huge soundscapes, alive with delicate textures of noise. On "Learn with Pleasure, Knowledge Is Power," speeding rhythms are mixed with layers of crystalline choral tones. And the simple, schizophrenic collection of beats and breaks connected by vocal outbursts of "I am somebody," on "The Man Who Lived In Books," shows they are not obsessed by overindulgence." - Rob Deacon
London was the introduction of Greater Than One to the blossoming post-industrial culture as spearheaded by Chicago-based WaxTrax! Records. It was released in July of 1989 as a double LP/single CD collection of music recorded from 1987-1988 on Greater Than One's London-based label, K=K Recordings, and includes the entire LP of Dance of the Cowards. The recordings here have been digitally remastered by the legendary Jeff Lipton (Numero Group, Rykodisc, the list goes on forever) of Peerless Mastering and sound stunning. Bonus material includes the music from the Duty + Trust cassette, originally issued in 1991 by ROIR as well as other compilation tracks recorded at the time. Enhanced CD content includes photos, cover images, and an extensive book with articles and press clippings and words from Michael Wells and many others.
A DVD includes the music videos for "I Don't Need God," "Utopia," and "Pure," as well as three lengthy projections from their performances (featuring user-selectable soundtrack) and an "art reel."
"After two years of drivel about the subversive attitude of sonic piracy, the thrill of robbing and stealing, London illustrates a savage talent lurking behind the collision of styles. This is the end, a new age is coming." - Sam King, Sounds
"London marks the point when the sample band begins to become a genre, new and unique unto itself. Sprawled across two records, we are subjected to, the barrage of modern culture turned into folk music. Disco for the sonic guerilla. Acid house/techno terrorism. Call it what you may, this is a must for the alternative club/radio despite the fact that this is the sound of the mainstream that seeks to drown us. Like Adrian Sherwood and Tom Ellard, Greater Than One chronicle both the valiant fighting the tide and the last breaths of those caught in the undertow." - Rockpool
"Technology, art, ideas, and courage can be combined to create really important, relevant music that affects the way we judge our world, and this compilation is such a work." - Robert Shea, Discotext
This was Greater Than One's first "proper" LP, issued originally in 1987 by Graeme Revell (SPK) and Brian (Lustmord) Williams on their Side Effects Records label. Here it is paired with Trust, their first attempt at the album's recording but released in 1990 on We Never Sleep (LP) and in 1991 by ROIR (CS). While the popular world knows more about Lee Newman and Michael Wells as Technohead, GTO, or Tricky Disco, All The Masters Licked Me is their first fully realized concept of weaving samples into a vivid aural tapestry.
From the original press release: "The music is devised from sampling sounds which are programmed via a computer system to form strong and powerful pieces of aural art: mixing noises from the underground system with ethnic chanting, heavy metal & hip hop beats with military drumming and classical orchestration. The album contains 9 tracks on each side, with pieces referring to rioting 'The Sweet Smell of a Supermarket On Fire' to ' The Rape of Sam the Fox,' a track that evokes gallery slaves, masturbation and physical brutality. Each track is carefully constructed to convey the intentions and meaning contained within the titles."
The album was recorded and digitally mastered by Greater Than One. To make the CD the original betamax studio master tape was baked for 72 hours at a special audio house in the UK. The DAT for Trust was generously donated by Lucas Cooper of ROIR. Enhanced CD content includes MP3s of the entire album, unbroken, photos, cover images, an art book, and an extensive book with articles and press clippings and words from Michael Wells and others.
"1987 was a transitional time and in All The Masters Licked Me, I could hear an eclectic sensibility that I shared and have cherished in my own career. Lee and Michael cast a very wide net in collecting sounds and wove them into an exciting mix. Industrial had become purely dance music, hip-hop was heading off into reduced palettes and electronica was unfocused. Already so many of the interesting artists that had begun working in the late '70s and early '80s had imploded, lost interest or, worse still, had shown they were one-trick ponies, trapped in the same habits as prior groups they had hoped to supercede. Lee and Michael were not going to go there and subsequent releases always vindicated my faith in them. I moved away from England so never got to know them intimately. However I enjoyed watching and listening to their chameleon aliases that often had decent popular success. Side Effects did not have the resources to promote the few select groups we helped out other than a distribution deal, but I am glad that it helped in some small way to get the word out. I am also glad that the Greater Than One record will finally appear on CD." – Graeme Revell
Fluorescent Grey's second full-length creates beat-driven collages out of electronics and found sounds. Each of the nine tracks has a distinct theme and methodology. Yet despite the variety of styles found here, I still found this album to be missing something vital.
The sonic interplay that opens "Chrono-Synclastic Infundibulum" lacks the dynamics and grit necessary to make it texturally satisfying, and the beats that eventually infiltrate the song aren't very riveting. Not only do they sound canned, they obfuscate the atmospherics in the background to the song's detriment. Many of the rapid glitch beats found in this song as well as "Molten Ghost" and "Are You Aware of the Pink Light Emanating from Your Navel?" seem to come straight out of the Aphex Twin playbook from ten years ago or longer, and I don't really hear anything new or different on these. However, I did like "Ayhuascaro Empyreal," "Physically Modelled Theme for Children," and "Palette Swap Dub" quite a bit. All have a tighter focus and more fully realized rhythms than the other tracks.
Even so, these three tracks aren't enough to redeem this album's sterility and dependence on its forbears. Gaseous Opal Orbs isn't bad by any means, but there isn't enough here to make it more than ordinary.
Aaron Martin uses a mind-boggling number of instruments and objects both exotic and traditional on his latest album of introspective instrumentals. Because of the vast array of tools at his disposal, no two tracks sound alike. What unites them is the fact that almost every song is made of delicate, airy passages that refuse to be grounded.
While Martin's skills and arrangements are impressive, many of these songs have so many movements within them that their overall intentions can get lost. Rather than evolving with the same instruments they start with, instead new instruments crossfade into the mix to form different sections and take the song somewhere new. Even though these new sections are often equal to or better than the parts they're replacing, this constant shifting of themes and instrumentation never quite allows the listener to gain a comfortable foothold. A good example of this is "Tire Swing," one of my favorites on the album. The first half starts with a piercing pitch and vibrato strings before morphing into an elegant dirge for the second half. The latter part is much more interesting but the parts are divided so equally that it sounds more like two unrelated sections that are fused together rather than a tension-building intro that leads into the main body. Almost every song does something like this at least once if not more, and the result is a somewhat choppy, disconnected listening experience rather than the meditative one it could have been.
Martin is clearly very talented, and the music here is often captivating and gorgeous. Too much reliance on seemingly arbitrary changes keeps River Water just shy of being a transcendent recording.
The Baltimore-based duo of Jane & Josh came together as Abiku like some unstoppable galactic collision. Their brand of short, sharp, raw, and unpolished explosions of punk noisiness, interspersed with a few longer expositions and more experimental drone-style pieces, is in itself a kind of joyful collision: a place where keyboards, guitars, and rhythm machines smash together faster and more powerfully than sub-atomic particles in an accelerator. Their latest series of detonations, the two-part CD set of Right and Left, showered me with all kinds of radiative shrapnel, at times threatening to melt my ears and at other times soothing the heat inflicted by the wounds.
Together this two part set, released as separate CDs which are yet simultaneously inextricably linked just like a set of twins (hence the reason for being reviewed as a single entity), represents something of a beast, providing 42 tracks over a total combined running time of just over two hours or more. Most of the tracks seem reluctant to extend themselves beyond the two minute mark, blasting themselves out in a veritable white-hot frenzy of mashed-up distortion, poppy/dancey sequenced rhythms and synthetic percussion, and topped off with the weirdly tremulous voice of Josh and/or the harpy screaming of Jane. As rough around the edges as the production inevitably is, the songs are nevertheless hopelessly catchy and melodic in some cases, memorably so in actuality, borne out by the undeniable fact that I have found myself humming some of the vocal lines hours after the CD has left the room—whatever else can be said about this Abiku have a habit of writing songs that burrow their way into the memory and then travel all the way down to the foot, causing it to involuntarily tap in sympathy with the beat.
Apart from Josh’s querulous singing style, the other memorable aspect here is the strange mix of styles present—almost as if on any given day Abiku arbitrarily decide to write something in a particular style and hack away at it and see what comes out at the end of it. Thus for instance we get the aforementioned ejaculatory pop-punk-noise explosions which ultimately dominate the digital grooves, but in between them are the occasional hints of a quieter and more reflective aesthetic, such as on the closer to the Right album “Water Trust,” an expansive, cosmic 14 minute Philip Glass-style keyboard drone epic that can either be viewed as a abrupt change of stylistic course or a species of interlude meant as a breather after the manic breathlessness of the preceding twenty-one tracks. Additionally, there are almost dance-music style episodes. Despite the apparent contradiction implied in the juxtapositioning of the various styles it somehow doesn’t carry with it any incongruity at all—in fact I would go so far as to posit that it works in its own strange way. Of the two, Right has something of a rawer, more jagged, and less polished edge to it than Left, the latter veering more towards the electronic, experimental end of the spectrum (and even containing one or two of those abovementioned extremely danceable tunes), although it too has its fair share of noisiness and hair-stripping fieriness.
In that sense it would also be fair to say that by utilising the two styles Abiku manage to avoid any accusation of being restrained by any stylistic and musical straitjackets of their own making, although having mentioned that I can quite easily see that sitting through the two albums in one sitting could turn into something of a marathon session for some. I found it highly entertaining (and initially pleasingly and highly unpredictable) for my part, as I was waiting to hear what would emerge from the speakers, whether it be another blistering less-than-two-minute shouting and screaming match, or a more exploratory electronic keyboard affair—but for me, even that limited form of ‘interaction’, in conjunction with the often infectious exuberance exhibited by the noisier tracks, was enough to convince that these two albums weren’t half bad and they even managed to give me a moment or two of nostalgia as it brought back memories of my punk-infested youth, where often enthusiasm and sheer energy would win out over musicianship—and that is perhaps the biggest thing that I took from this. Now, if only my bones could stand a two hour session of bouncing and pogoing around without any fear of doing myself any long-term damage...
This is only the third album in eleven years from Austin's Experimental Aircraft, after 1999’s self titled debut on Sleepy Bunny (and which was subsequently re-released a year later by Devil in the Woods Records) and Love for the Last Time (Rollerderby) in 2002. Here, once again, the Texas quartet engineer a collection of hazy and melodically high flying, brightly-lit guitar-based indie-rock songs, aided and lifted in the main by Rachel Staggs’ (Eau Claire, Static Silence) warm yet slightly distant voice (but which is yet shot through with a steely strength even so) which floats serenely above a landscape of strong noisy reverb-soaked guitar lines backed by a dependably solid rhythm section.
The principal attribute on show here is—given that each separate element displays a certain simplicity of construction in musical terms, together in the round they combine to create a complex density—a thick patterned sonic carpet full of sculpted depth and shapes. Dark swathes of distorted guitar provide a solid canvas on which sparkling melodies and highlights find themselves picked out, and both the sweetly distracted vocals of Staggs and the more straightforwardly sung delivery of T.J. O’Leary find a springboard from which to launch themselves. More than that though is that that canvas is an expansive one, whose musical and stylistic horizons stretch as far as the eye can see, describing vast limitless soundscapes upon which are drawn the small orbits of the everyday it seems. It’s this aspect of the small painted against the larger backdrop that drives the engine of this album, and for me the brightest sparks come from the friction between the echoey and reverb-sodden guitars, and the borderline ethereality and fragility of Stagg’s vocal lines, which give the impression of a tiny lost point within a much greater space, almost on the verge of being overpowered and being dispersed to the four winds but yet having a hidden steeliness and strength that enables it to both remain whole and be greater than the limits imposed on it.
This is not to say that O’Leary’s voice is lacking in effectiveness, simply that his strengths have a different focus and aims to fill the space it occupies, refusing to let what surrounds it subsume or absorb it in any way. In some ways it’s an act of defiance; in other words, even amongst the vastness, I refuse to be lost and I am a voice that deserves to be heard and listened to. The backing music is equally adept and flexible at creating a supporting framework upon which to hang the two vocal styles, and very often the music is designed to complement whoever’s singing and does so excellently. It is clear, then, that all of the musicians work as a successfully harmonious unit, able to draw out the relative strengths of each, polishing and illuminating them; moreover this particular facet positively shines through, blindingly so I would say.
As a collection of songs melody- and beat-driven songs this has few, if any, faults—however I do have one issue with this CD, and that’s the cover that graces it. Quite simply put it looks like it’s the result of no more than ten minutes work when they discovered that in the euphoria of putting this together they’d actually forgotten to commission an artist to create one. It’s nothing more than a quickly cobbled together Photoshop exercise—in fact I recognised some of the effects used from my time as a designer getting to grips with the new graphics technology in the early '90s, and in these days of sophistication and polish there is absolutely no excuse for producing such a shoddily packaged product.
Just look past that, though, and there is a wealth of texture, emotional range, and musical prowess to please, and certainly from my point of view, it ticks all the boxes: it is melodically sophisticated and mature, with a group of excellent musicians who play to each other’s strengths and abilities, resulting in a coherent package that is confidently delivered and played. That, to all intents and purposes, is what does it for me on this one.
Another month and yet another release from Anthony Mangicapra, this time a perfect little EP of unsettling ambiences. Together, the three sinister sounding pieces on this release are a slight change of course for his Hoor-Paar-Kraat endeavour. There is less emphasis on collage work and more on developing potent drones and this approach has seriously paid off.
The sounds on the main piece, “Secrets from a Silk Purse,” come from a recording made by Mangicapra at a gallery where (with the artist’s permission) he bowed a sculpture and later processed the metallic drones into their present form (although there seems to be minimal post-production work here). He uses a far more limited palette of sounds on this compared to his other releases, the drones only accompanied by the occasional cough or sound of a door closing (presumably in the gallery itself). The result is a powerful and singular approach to sound, even if it is not a million miles away from Nurse With Wound or Organum territory.
This EP sounds fantastic and the 3” CD format suits the trio of pieces, allowing them enough time to unfold and remain thematically coherent but not allowing any room for filler. Plus considering this is a larger pressing than most Hoor-Paar-Kraat releases, hopefully more people will catch on to this consistently remarkable project.
21 year old Olafur Arnalds wrote some of this debut when he was 15. His controlled pieces for piano, strings, and occasional electronics will have fans of Max Richter and Johann Johannsson as happy as dreaming dogs having their bellies tickled.
Arnalds is from Iceland and the stereotypical reaction might be to suggest his work is clean, cool and somehow emotionally detached. In interviews about his creativity, though, he has largely played down the influence of native landscape, preferring instead to speak of the effects of interactions with real people and of life in his hometown. Certainly Eulogy for Evolution seems a structured reflection of a passage of time such as that of a human lifespan and Arnalds’ music engages emotions immediately and does not let them go. He achieves this by sound alone as the titles of tracks are depicted by numbers rather than through the use of phrases or names. These numbers apparently allude to the timing of imaginary snapshots throughout the album. Hence “3326” refers to a possible picture of the scene at 33 minutes 26 seconds. Opener “0040” features crystal piano notes framed and seemingly held in the air by the plainest of string arrangements. “0048/0729” is an exercise in delay and restraint with added atmospherics and (perhaps) accordion, with quite epic results.
Parts of “1440” are almost too lush for my tastes but stop just about shy of full-on sentimentality. I also like the fake ending on this piece and the ending which is a repetition of just a few notes. The important thing is: they are the right notes. Calling your record Eulogy for Evolution shows a certain confidence but Arnalds has the talent to match and critics have murmured like contented lambs suckling on their mother’s milk. While the rules of composition were ripped up decades ago it’s a trifle hard not to feel something approaching negativity when someone so young combines melancholy and optimism with so little fuss: almost as if he should have to do a longer apprenticeship if only to acknowledge that evolution takes time. No matter, Arnalds has studied Arvo Part and has been chosen to tour with Sigur Ros later this summer so his gravitation toward sparse impressionism is probably a natural path.
In any event his debut sounds full of the reverence and awe normally reserved for God, or at least George Best or Sir Vivian Richards at the absolute peak of their powers. As exquisite as the first few tracks are, by “1953” I was thinking that evolution (in alphabetical terms) would only be progressing from about A to H. However, on the gorgeous but more dramatic and nuanced “3055” a dynamic of change is writ in fuzzed electronics, speedy piano and booming percussion. “3326,” the shortest piece on the album, adds to the variety with a quasi-violent rubbing of strings evoking the brief passion of Jacqueline du Pre: chopped down before she was barely a woman.
I once upset the host of a party by changing the music after what was starting to seem like 48 hours of lute music. Unbeknownst to me, she had set up a series of tapes to gradually delight the ears of her guests with a timeline of sound encompassing early music right through to (what was then the happening sound of) Eno and Byrne! Let me offer belated apologies to the host, Melanie. In my defense, party goers were impatient and, as with evolution itself, unable to predict when, or if, swift and radical changes would ever occur. Olafur Arnalds has not released an album encompassing the entire history of Western music, but Eulogy for Evolution will reward the patient listener.
Released in both CD and 12” vinyl formats, with five bonus cuts on the CD, Dream Island Laughing Language has a happy homemade intensity blending sounds gleaned from natural instruments such as bells, bowls, flutes, mini- dulcimer, mbira, hands, rubber bands and...rocks, as well as those derived from cassettes and computers.
Lucky Dragons' symbolic band name (named after a Japanese fishing boat that became a symbol of anti-nuclear feeling after it was snagged in the fallout of a US hydrogen bomb test), their pseudo digital ragas and electro-acoustic mandalas, their slacker looks and preposterous promo blurb lead me to the inescapable conclusion that... here's a band to get behind. This is their eighteenth release since the spring of 2000. The “dream island” part of the album title refers to the landfill in Tokyo harbor where the boat now resides and the “laughing language” bit harks toward the idea that some things cannot be expressed in our own languages.
Starting with the self-explanatory “Clipped Gongs” Dream Island has enough contrast in pacing and texture to hold the shortest of attention spans. Luke Fischbeck is the hinge on which the whole Lucky Dragons project swings. He also sings a little in nicely resonant tones. Indeed, on “Drinking Dirty Water” his singing has the calm appeal of Brian Eno’s pastoral pastel period. “Desert Rose” is an addictive piece of frenetic yet spacious percussion. “Starter Culture” sounds stretched and ethereal and rather like how I imagine weasels with rain sticks might interpret Animal Collective. A live performance by Lucky Dragons might be something to see (and maybe participate in). Things continue in this flashy vein until the opening section of final track “Very 2,” which shows how the group can use a more full sound as a means to progress.
Dream Island Laughing Language is a pretty convincing record, albeit one that with a fairly narrow appeal. There remains the nagging doubt about Fischbeck and Sarah Rara's claim that they play “poppies” although that may be another reason to support them.