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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This latest album by one of the greatest living singers is a celebration of the damned by the damned. It stands out in stark contrast to her more usual themes, a smirk and a wink to co- conspirators instead of the damning finger of accusation or cry for those who never got a chance to cry out. This change of tact makes Guilty Guilty Guilty one of her more instantly listenable albums. Instead of working myself up to listening to an hour or two of dejected misery, this is a far more accessible voyage through some of the not so dark ballads in Galás' songbook.
The ecstatic cheering of the audience is an unexpected introduction to a Diamanda Galás album. The rowdy crowd punctuate the album with occasional whoops and applause. This, along with the choice of songs for the evening's set, gives the impression of a satanic form of gospel music. On the opening song, "8 Men and 4 Women," Galás' distinctive piano style has an added jauntiness that is absent from much of her playing on previous albums.
With Guilty Guilty Guilty I cannot help but be reminded of Nick Cave's Kicking Against the Pricks album (probably helped by both artists covering "Long Black Veil"). Even though Galás is no stranger to doing covers, here there is that same dark humor that runs through Cave's covers. That being said, there are still moments where Galás can break us down into a sobbing mess. "Interlude (Time)" is heartbreaking, the delicately sung vocals and equally fragile piano sounding so haunting after the more rambunctious delivery of the songs previous to it. For a moment it almost sounds like someone else is occupying the microphone and piano stool.
There can be no mistaking the artist on "O Death," a topic that Galás is no stranger to. Whipping herself up into a frenzy, "O Death" is one of those classic Diamanda Galás moments where the tension is palpable and I am not sure if I am more afraid of death or the singer. This gives way to the album's finale, "Heaven Have Mercy," where the song made famous by Edith Piaf is accompanied by the sound of an air raid siren, conjuring up images of an occupied Paris during the Second World War.
Normally at the end of a Galás album I am in the mood for something else. The heaviness of the emotions wear me down and I need something else, anything else, to get over it. However, despite the sombre ending to the album, with Guilty Guilty Guilty I am more than happy to press play again. She will never be easy listening but this is certainly an easier listen than the more definitive Galás album which will always be something that is psychologically and physically taxing to listen to. Having an album like this is welcome as sometimes you need that hit but cannot take the pressure.
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Czech psych group Seven That Spells add Acid Mother Makoto Kawabata into their fold for an album that sounds almost exactly like an Acid Mothers record. Be that as it may, it is still a high-quality recording that holds its own against some of that band's better material.
This music doesn't come across as a form of imitation either. The overarching but never overreaching walls of guitars and spacey electronics are seemingly engless throughout the five sections of this sprawling album. Curiously, Kawabata doesn't play guitar himself on this recording, sticking to electric sitar, tambura, and hurdy-gurdy. Much of the material is familiar territory to Acid Mothers fans, but it is so consistent in tone and mood that it's a particularly blissful experience that lacks any drastic or dramatic mood shifts. Even so, the dynamic impact hits in all the right places.
The whole thing begins with a man chanting as if in a discombobulated evocation of the guitar gods, who explode on arrival on the second track. The rhythm here is strident, and the texture gives it a near-mythical quality that's only reinforced by Kawabata's sitar runs. The third section finds the group stretching out a bit into some outer dimension, and it is a fun and convincing excursion. The latter half of this track leans a little too closely to the Acid Mothers flame before falling into a schizophrenic breakdown on vocals. The fourth section has its own metallic wails that are soon joined by bass pulses and hurdy-gurdy. The tone gets more alarming but never quite delves into paranoia. The final piece is the most meditative with its shimmering walls and warped vocals. An echoing chant works its way into the music, gets briefly monstrous, then is joined by a female counterpart to balance the album by its conclusion.
Seven That Spells put together a strong album that matches their influences without sacrificing quality. Their cues may be obvious, but the music is no less worthwhile as a result.
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Excepter's fourth album seems like an obnoxious mess at first, but repeated listens reveal patterns in the chaos. Using deceptively simplistic beats, electronics, swimming voices, and even a bass clarinet for good measure, they add rich textures to uneasy rhythms for music that is ridiculously addictive.
On most of these songs, the deceptively simple rhythms become the core on which the other elements depend. Voices are thrown into the mix seemingly at random while counter rhythms, found sounds, and melodic bits from other instruments come and go. It is this constant motion that propels the album forward, albeit at such a similar pace for much of it that some of the distinction between tracks is blurred. The rich stimulation overload quickly becomes the norm, making anything simpler boring by comparison.
Many of the lyrics are about economic politics but are more sarcastic than didactic. A good example is the opening line of "Shots Ring": "Did you know the cost of life is $1/That's why there are slaves." In a similar vein is "Kill People," in which a variety of voices shout the title in different styles and are processed in a number of ways. Instead of becoming an annoyance, the lyrics serve the purpose of keeping the songs playful rather than succumbing to overseriousness.
There's a sense of humor at work here, but the album has its share of uneasy moments as well. "Greenhouse/Stretch" has a strange electronic opening vastly different from the songs the precede it and eventually delves into some dark areas in its second half. On its heels, "Walking Through the Night" has sinister distorted sounds on top of heavy beats. One definite head-scratcher is "Sunrise." While it is a decent song, it initially takes its cues so obviously from Sonic Youth that I assumed it was a cover or at least an interpretation of sorts, but no credit to that effect appears anywhere on the booklet. Even more puzzling is the last-minute addition of a line from Stevie Wonder's "Higher Ground." I'm not quite sure what the band's getting at on this track, but it's fun to listen to anyway.
Excepter take the kitchen sink approach to composition with this album, and it succeeds despite the initial vertigo of having to make sense of it all. Yet the group throws out a lifeline with its beats, allowing the rest of the music to unfold one glorious step at a time.
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The new work from Mike Gallagher of Isis finds him using a subtle touch with sparse guitars and hazy drones to create instrumental atmospherics with a dramatic edge. While it works great as background music, there are also plenty of nuances to reward attentive listening.
"Allusions" begins the album with a low-end pulse and sustained notes while a clean, minimal electric guitar plays. Other textural sounds make themselves known as the guitar slowly takes on a central role. Most of the songs here don't stray too far from that formula, but neither do they all sound the same. "It Darkens His Door" uses subdued distorted riffs, while "Equilibrium" takes a more delicate approach. The best tracks are the last two. "The Night Splits, Wide and Open" uses epic builds to achieve a dramatic conclusion, and "And It Falls by the Gallons" uses bouts of churning, sputtering distortion to cathartic effect. The most ordinary song is "Ruminations of Before." It's not a bad track by any means, but it is a little boring compared to the others.
I like this album better than Nova Lux. The compositions are structured a bit more cohesively yet still retain a unique mood, one that never fails to immerse me completely.
Starving Weirdos Brian Pyle and Merrick McKinlay and guests don their wizard robes to invoke unknown realms of existence. Some of the methods may change from song to song, but each has an allure and mystery all its own.
"Summon" is like walking through a vast, majestic hall with its airy pitches, panned rattles, and swooping tones. The only bit of melody comes toward the end, played on an exotic scale. "Orchestra at Twilight" begins more contemplatively with breathy electronic exhalations and roiling mechanical sounds, eventually joined by what could be pterodactyls crying for food. The album's only rhythm comes from hand drums and light percussion on "In Transit," accompanied by a thirsty beehive on the prowl. "Sunset at the College Cove Bluffs" uses subtle washes and forlorn foghorns to give a sense of space, as if opening a tunnel to another plane entirely.
The group is quite effective at making alien worlds seem like normal ones by slowly unfolding various textures throughout the tracks. They've certainly got my attention with this sublime recording.
The four untitled tracks that make up No Canal are stylistically both familiar and new. While two of the songs feature the mechanical churning of previous Mouthus efforts, the other two stray from the group's comfort zone with mixed results.
The first track signals a departure right away with its clean pitches, backing drones, and a contemplative mood that almost feels maternal. Unfortunately, its high level of tape hiss somewhat sullies the effect, but it works well enough at low volumes. The second track returns to the abrasive guitars and drums I have come to expect from Mouthus, and it doesn't disappoint. Its crushing rhythm shambles along nicely with the guitar loops and feedback, falling into an enjoyable ear-splitting groove.
The album's most puzzling anomaly is the third track. While the instruments play light jazz that would sit well in a David Lynch movie, it is ruined by excessive distortion that quickly becomes grating and unnecessary. While much later on in the song the two parts find a somewhat peaceful coexistence, the abrasion has already done its damage. If it had been lower in the mix it may have worked better with the other instruments, but as it stands, the track is memorable only for its annoyance. Conversely, the last track is the album's best with its loping rhythm, distant harmonics, and scattered noises.
Despite a misstep or two, the good outweighs the bad to make this a solid album. If nothing else, the departures here prove that Mouthus still have a lot of uncharted territory to explore.
The Trunk label rescues from extinction Vernon Elliot's composition for two 1960s children's TV shows: the charming Ivor The Engine and the decidedly surreal Pogles Wood.
Vernon Elliot took up the bassoon as a toddler, became a founder of the Philharmonic Orchestra, player at the Royal Opera House, conductor of the RPH, a music teacher, writer, and jazz enthusiast. The exquisitely contemplative music for Ivor The Engine was his first work for television and he went on to compose for almost all of Oliver Postgate's Smallfilms productions. Postgate was an animator, puppeteer and writer who made some marvelous TV series including The Clangers, Ivor The Engine, The Pogles, Pogles Wood, and my particular favorites Noggin the Nog and Bagpuss. He was assisted by illustrator and model maker Peter Firmin. Given that, perhaps we can forgive Firmin for co-creating Basil Brush, mouthy fox hand-puppet and one of the biggest nuisances in British television history!
Trunk has already released music from The Clangers but this new release captures a little slice of music-making history. Jon Brooks at Newyattsounds has sifted through a huge cardboard box of tape reels that were getting close to disintegration. The remastering job is done with the loving care that these recordings deserve, since it mirrors that which went into them in the first place. Along with the musical themes and episodes are studio exchanges and sound-effects and the package includes handwritten labels and notes. All this gives a real glimpse into the working processes of Postgate and Firmin. The Ivor music aches with melancholy charm and sound effects (such as donkey departing, coal being tipped, and the engine chuffing or resisting starting) are sweet and ordinary. The endeavor evokes cardigans and cups of tea.
Ivor is totally off the breakneck digital pace of today, but The Pogles is worlds apart. It could never be made now. The joy is too simple, the element of fear too primal and naturalistic, the whole concept too languid and effortlessly politically incorrect. The original 1965 version was cut from the BBC's Watch With Mother series after complaints from parents that the character of The Witch was too scary for pre-schoolers. With all due respect to her pre-Thatcherite visual weirdness, much of the anxiety stems from Vernon Elliot's slashing music that accompanied her appearance. Pogles Wood (1966-68) is still wonderful and crazy. Some of its magic and innocence is conveyed by Elliot's playful compositions. Adventures consist of Mr Pogle supping bilberry wine and feeding it to his plant (called Plant) The cast walk, run and play games as a ritual strangeness envelopes everyday life. Once seen, the characters of Mrs. Pogle, Pippin, Hedgepig, and Tog (a stuffed toy brought to life to fight The Witch) are unforgettable. As with (the unrelated) The Singing Ringing Tree, from East Germany's DEFA studio, they really don't make them like this anymore.
Trunk has plans to release many of the other recordings from the Smallfilms series in the near future.
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E.E and The Owl Archimedes love dancing to death... literally. Adoringly these two sculptors have put one of the world's most-revered tunes to the chopping block and, by virtue of its eradication, developed a new spectrum of radiant sounds and mutant un-rhythms to enjoy. This is a requiem for the dancing queen, who in death sounds as marvelous as she did in life.
E.E and The Owl Archimedes love dancing to death... literally. Adoringly these two sculptors have put one of the world's most-revered tunes to the chopping block and, by virtue of its eradication, developed a new spectrum of radiant sounds and mutant un-rhythms to enjoy. This is a requiem for the dancing queen, who in death sounds as marvelous as she did in life.
Wise Owl
There is a theory that one thing is simply the parody of another thing. The Greek word from which we get the English "parody" literally means "beside or parallel to a song or ode." Stretch that definition out a bit and some very interesting things can happen with parodies: crime could "stand side by side" with sex or wealth could be made a parallel of poverty. This may not seem particularly original or innovative, but the upshot is that a parody can cast new light on something for better or for worse. Parody can reveal what originally captivated us about our favorite records in surprising ways or it can amplify the repulsive in something and give us pause for reconsidering it. E.E and The Owl Archimedes have clearly spent some time with ABBA's "Dancing Queen" and their love for the song is evident through every second of their double-CD tribute to it. This is by no means a remix project, however; The End of Deconstruction is a loving parody of ABBA's dance-floor machinations. It is composed of four entirely unique ambient-noise pieces, each developing slowly and with a somber tone, suggesting the slow march of a funeral procession. The bright and energetic life of "Dancing Queen" is thus transformed into a dark meditation on what happens when the music decays and the happy veneer of pop-beauty fades.
The irony is that the beauty of the song doesn't really fade during the parodic transformation, but is replaced by an attractiveness of a different kind. The first disc begins with E.E's "Venus." It presents itself delicately at first, slowly growing into a constant and voluminous hum. Bits of stereo debris bubble to surface over the course of the song lending it only the most microscopic variation . "Venus" does away with time or alters it; lasting more than 19 minutes it swallows up more than a quarter of an hour quietly and surprisingly. Its all-encompassing flow sets everything into drift and seduces by its simplicity. When that monumental tone is silenced a sense of loneliness is all that's left in its wake and every other minute sound, from the moaning of a loose board to the uneven drop of a leaky faucet, becomes as loud and intrusive as an unexpected car horn. "Birth," on the other hand, takes the opposite approach. It begins in deceptive silence and then crescendos quickly, the familiar sounds of "Dancing Queen" almost recognizable through the slow distortion and patterned, tessellated noise. It's a clumsy piece to be sure, nakedly revealing portions of the song and unfurling like a cut and scored digital tapestry. Nevertheless, it inspires both laughter and appreciation; it is absolutely ridiculous that the song should be made to contort this way, but it's also amazing that the original lends itself so perfectly to these degenerative processes.
E.E's "Liminal State" begins the second disc and supplements "Birth." Here, all the pretzeled twists and turns of "Birth" are transformed into a backing band and a choir of voices are brought to center stage. What was a noise piece is transformed into an orchestral explosion of grandiose proportions. Though the song is filled with colliding sounds from beginning to end there is a sense of space present in the work; as a result the undulating of various component noises feels more peaceful and relaxed than busy and tense. It's a delicate balance that he strikes between distress and calm and he keeps that balance interesting for over half an hour. It stands out as the best composition on the album. That's not to take away from The Owl Archimedes' concluding contribution, "Lost Memories." This seems to be a supplement to E.E.'s "Venus" as it adds a great deal of depth to that ascetic and severe drone. Like that opening song it is almost unidentifiable as a reworking of "Dancing Queen." Replacing the stereo hiccups are a series of digital horns that scream and stretch throughout the song. As the piece develops various dial tones begin to populate the work almost as though they are vying for attention with those horns. This competition comes to a frenzied head about halfway through and then the intensity subsides and the album ends in a simple and lovely drone.
The End of Deconstruction comes in a hand-made double-CD package with a small but classy insert and is also numbered. Only 40 copies were made originally, some of which may still be available but will likely be gone soon. The record label has also made the music available for free through their website by way of MP3s. This may be a parody, but the artists involved couldn't have taken the project more seriously; it shows in both the music and the presentation.
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This rare second album from the band gets new life, five extra bonus tracks, and a bit wider recognition on its reissue on Tzadik (on the "Fullforce Composer Series," seriously John, is there a series to go along with every album you release?). All kidding aside, that is a pretty good description of the style presented here. Shards of metal, hardcore punk, jazz, and the avant garde all come together here, somehow as a congealed package.
Very much in-line with what is commonly referred to as math rock, Ahlecuhatistas expand past just musical complexity as narcissistic masturbation (no overwrought solos or the like here), but thrive on the dense interplay of the trio. As chaotic as it all sounds, a close listen reveals it is not the result of noodling or improvisation, but instead carefully calculated and planned composition. At the same time, the short (mostly sub-four minute) track lengths limit self-indulgence.
In that regard it is stylistically not all that removed from some of Zorn's own work, notably Naked City, but instead of the rapid shifts in genre, it is more the mood, tempo and structure that are the variables. It lacks that same gonzo "broken radio on seek mode" quality, but feels more coherent because of it. The frequent shifts and stop-start nature of some of the tracks lend a very invigorating, exciting sense to the work which ensures it stays out of the realms of stuffy musicologist beard stroking and a little more something that’s just entertaining as opposed to beard stroking music.
Tracks like "Good Question" emphasize that balance, the mid-point of the track features some extremely dexterous high end guitar picking that would make pretentious jazz cats snap their fingers at how much they're "digging it, maaan" before blasting head-long into hardcore punk grind.
Although there is really no time for "soloing," it's not hard to hear how all three members are extremely proficient at their instruments: Shane Perlowin's guitar work is constantly frantic, yet impeccably timed, Derek Poteat's bass often vacillates from distorted metal lead to carefully measured jazz riffs (see opener "Cracked Teeth") while drummer Sean Dail plays with manic rapid fire energy on "The Day the Earth Stood Still" and does a great speed metal double kick drum track on "RPG 3."
The five additional bonus tracks appended at the end of the disc are an entirely different entity in some regards, as they are functionally just live improvisations of the band as opposed to the highly structured and composed nature of the rest of the album. Without a disclaimer in the liner notes of this, however, I think most would be hard pressed to recognize the difference. That alone is a testament to how well this band works together and plays upon each other's strengths.
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By all accounts this is a metal album. From the dark, lo-fi black-and-white artwork, gore-ified fonts and titles, I expected some form of death or black metal, and I was pretty much right on target. Now, knowing the label that put this out, I assumed it couldn't be just any generic metal album, because Alien8 is known for leaning towards the experimental.
The opener, "Process of Bestialization," cemented that hypothesis of mine rather quickly. Sure, the demonic vocals and drum machine blasts raised fingers up in Ronnie James Dio devil horn fashion, but the accompanying controlled feedback that reached a point of near ambience was a different demon entirely, and was definitely conventional riffing or head banging in nature.
For those who like their metal either black or deathy or a combination of both, tracks like "They Who Enter Caves" will fit the bill. It is hard to tell if the track is being led by a processed guitar or a synth but the pace and mood of overall track, coupled with the vocals and drums, is unabashedly metallic in nature. However, the underlying ambience that is a bit more apparent during the ending shows more debt to dark ambient than the rest of the track leads on. Similarly, the 12-minute "Bonded by Wyrd" adds some prog rock elements into the metal sludge with its rapid guitar arpeggios and restrained vocals and massive drum break down during the second half.
Other tracks show the metal vestiges even less, the sustained "kvlt" produced guitar roar of "Dove Instinct" have more in common with label mates Nadja or some overamped release from the heyday of the Cold Meat Industries label than it does to any traditional metal band. Even though "Sky as a Reversed Abyss" is more blatant in its use of guitar and other forms of traditional instrumentation, the lugubrious pace and barely structured guitar put it more in the family tree of early Swans or other like minded industrial-tinged sludgesters.
It wasn't entirely wrong to immediately assume this is a headbanger's type album (there is definitely a black metal edge to this entire album), the sound is actually much more varied than expected from the genre, and incorporates a significant amount of other stylistic elements that will catch the ears of those who aren't adherent metal heads (such as I). Although this mysterious band (as of this writing there isn't even an entry on discogs.com for them, and they've got everything!) seems to be relatively new on the scene, they are already showing a wide enough array of talents to make them worth keeping an eye on.
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