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!
Although ostensibly a remix album, there is no need to be familiar with the source material to enjoy the remix work here. From what I gather, PureH are a successful electronic rock band out of Slovenia who invited a slew of electronic artists to rework a single track, "Signia." Not being familiar with the original track, I purposely avoided listening to the initial song to fully appreciate the remixes, which all vary greatly and, as a whole, make for strong, diverse tracks.
It is not hard to recall the all too brief existence of the so-called "isolationist" outgrowth of ambient music when looking at the artists charged with remixing PureH's track. Anyone who was listening to music of that ilk in the mid to late '90s (led by prolific artists such as Bill Laswell, Mick Harris, and Justin Broadrick) will recall names like Eraldo Bernocchi, P.C.M., D.J. Surgeon, and K.K. Null, who all appear on here. And along with these "big boys" there's a good mix of lesser known artists who show they have got the chops to hang with the established guys.
The established artists show that, some ten years after they first stepped on the scene (at least from this reviewer's perspective) they have largely refined and honed their work to stay contemporary, yet not alienate those who remember them from back in the day. K. K. Null takes the rather conventional sounding original material and pitch shifts it to a painful high end shriek as well as cutting up the rhythm section into dense, distorted loops that still allow a semblance of the original sound (via voical fragments and somewhat recognizable elements), but twists and turns it into pure sonic sadism in his "Signia Pagan" mix.
Another of the old recognizable names is the duo of P.C.M., who, though mostly limited to remixes and a single 12" on Mick Harris' old Possible label. They start out their "Signia Blue Waters Turn Black" mix with an opaque haze of thick reverb drenched loops that are met with a slow, monotone beat that eventually explodes into a hardcore blast of a drum n bass loop that plows through the mix like a pipe bomb. It has the manic intensity of vintage Squarepusher or Aphex Twin, but without the whimsical trappings and a sense of pure insanity. Unfortunately, Eraldo Bernocchi seems to have not developed his art as much as the others: while the dubby beat and subsonic bassline stay solid, there is simply less variation or development on here, and it's repetitive nature is among the gripes of artists from the time period.
The artists that I'm not quite as familiar with also hold their own among the big names. Chris Wood excerpts the electronic elements and tones from the original track and cuts them up with a high end skittering drum loop that morphs and changes throughout, making for an extremely dynamic track. Wodan takes the track for a more electro spin on "Signia H Light," throwing down an old school stiff monotone beat, swirled bass pastiches and an ordinate amount of distortion. Another unique take comes from Taiwanese artist MoShang, who uses the rock track as clay to sculpt into a light take on downtempo electronica, mixing in a hip-hop beat and additional samples. It's not really my thing, but it is well done. Clocking in at 16 minutes, Psychedelic Desert's "Signia Live Farce" mix comes across with good intentions, stripping the track down to only its most rudimentary sounds and tones, but over such a length it begins to drag and slow down. If it had been around the eight minutes that most of the other mixes were, it would have been a great contribution.
It is great to know that, even with my intentional abstention from checking out the original track, these artists can use that source material to design tracks that, while standing out on their own, still feel thematically linked by the occasional untreated elements of the original work coming through. Those who long for the days when dark textures mixed with hip-hop/jungle loops like peanut butter and chocolate will enjoy this stroll down memory lane. Now, to check out the original "Signia" track….
samples:
Most of the discs that have been on Utech's ARC series have been consistently dark excursions in texture and noise. Never full on harshness akin to Merzbow, but generally bleak, almost punishing works (in the best possible sense). As it is drawing to a close, this seems to allow a bit of light to seep in, but only in the darkest shades of gray. Former Boredoms/Zeni Geva player Mitsuru manages to take a unique spin on the series that has a greater warmth and somewhat less density, but it is by no means inferior.
Book ended by the two-part "Mahhagogo" track, both of the parts open with Mitsuru and friends chanting the title before launching into a noise roar. While noisy, it isn't violently so—it is more of a humming, warm wall of distortion, like a forceful blast of hot air. Eventually the noise takes on the character of heavy blowing winds that have an alien, spacey quality to them, like being in the midst of a storm on Venus.
These beginning and end points of the album also make for the most challenging moments, as the middle are a little more comfortable and familiar. The untreated guitar playing of "Dust to Dust" is a bit jarring after the blast from before, but the gentle strums slowly give way to a building swell of feedback just a bit off from the mix that eventually grows to dominate and own the mix.
Also in the realms of conventional is the string plucking of "Tiovivo" that lend an almost spaghetti western soundtrack slant to the track. Honestly, this could almost be coming out of any coffee house in America if it weren't for the complex, dissonant guitar abuse that hides beneath the surface but slowly rears its ugly head to the point that it becomes the focus by the end. The title track is among the most bizarre of the disc, avoiding the plaintive guitar of the prior tracks and instead goes for the electronic treatment. The high pitched synth tones have a painful, tinnitus like sustain that stay the focal point from beginning to end, with more pulsing tones like radar beacons from deep, dark space.
The ARC series draws to its conclusion on a high note that is consistent with the previous releases. While there is a slightly different overall feel and vibe to Mitsuru's disc, it is by no means uncharacteristic of the series and is another fascinating installment. Why the Utech label isn't getting more recognition is a shame, and I hope the forthcoming fine art series that's planned helps to remedy this oversight.
samples:
Not comfortable leaving well enough alone, living legend Richie Hawtin's preeminent minimal techno label drops one final compilation at the end of a year where the imprint appeared reinvigorated with a ramped-up activity level implying a surge in newfound capital. Contained within the eco-friendly packaging are all new tracks from seven dynamic artists on the roster, including one new high-profile addition.
Here it is! The definitive list of lists. Why? Because it's the tenth year in a row that the readers nominated and voted! This is what you—not self-important hipsters or jaded old critics—picked, unaffected by the corporate ads and silly trends. 2007 was an amazing year for music, our poll had a ton of excellent entries, and once again, the cream has risen to the top.
This poll category numbers were tabulated from total points given to their collective total of releases.
This poll category numbers were also tabulated from total points of their new releases.
As chosen by the Brainwashed staff and contributors.
"They haven't stopped raising the bar from themselves (and usually used the bar on some piece of metal to make a rhythm). In 27 years they have released over 20 studio albums, each one mapping a new musical topography and each one reflecting a different facet of their home city at a given moment in time. They are heavy but tender, loud but restrained, danceable but intelligent, clever but not too pretentious and most importantly consistently brilliant." - John Kealy
"Too amazing to live in the shadow of Nick Cave, Blixa Bargeld somehow figured out how to go from an acned noisemonger into one of the most formidable frontmen alive. Romantically nuanced yet enigmatically charismatic, the former Bad Seed thankfully continues to lead this amazing band of experimentalists softly down a creative road not yet travelled." - Gary Suarez
"Rather than stagnating with their sound, they continue to evolve and develop and still manage to be as frightening, captivating, playful, and overall entertaining as they were back in the Stahlversion days. The subscription model they’ve also employed in the past few years is also revolutionary in the amount of fan interaction that takes place. It’s great to see a band that does realize it was the fans who got them to where they were and continue to support them" - Creaig Dunton
"Their music, their uncompromising approach to making it and their sheer tenacity plus the continuing drive to innovate and forge new paths means that, unlike many in the ‘music’ scene today, their name (however difficult to get your tongue around) will always be associated with fresh new musical explorations and directions." Simon Marshall-Jones
"It's hard to argue against Neubauten: the consumate innovators and experimenters. For a band who could probably coast on the value of their brandmark alone, Neubauten continues to take risks, and that's what the best artists always do." - Matthew Jeanes
"From their raw junk yard racket of Kollaps to the symphonic din of Perpetuum Mobile and now the off kilter pop of Alles Wieder Offen, EN continually destroyed what was in front of them, and left behind better, more beautiful things. For nearly 30 years, "Destroying New Buildings" has not only been an appropriate name, but a credo that they have stood by, and surpassed any expectations of." - Michael Barrett
"One of the most inventive bands ever and the only one capable of serenading me with a chainsaw, sand, and power tools. I would like a song employing a yankee screwdriver, however. You know, for the sake of completion. I still find myself listening to records released throughout their career and that in and of itself says a lot. Many bands have periods of real inspiration and genius, but EN's entire career captivates me. I wonder how you spell integrity in German." - Lucas Schleicher
The Absolutely Worst Album of the YearThese were the most negatively rated full-length albums in this year's poll.
Thanks again to all who participated and we wish you the best for 2008.
Beginning like a collection of sellotaped Lee Perry 'before the band arrived' loops, Chainsaw cultivates a very obvious outsider vibe. With an unfledged guitar technique that he uses to strum out half-lost echoed melodies, the music sounds like a rambling weirded-out blurb.
Phased strings clog with rainwater are wrapped up in magnetic tape, Joey Chainsaw's music is the epitome of hands on: and there is dirt under those nails. This very un-pretentious, but wobbly record, sounds like the result of play/record numerous sessions. Post-production is for the sane.
This is a reissue of a reissue, the original version of consolidated Burning Witch's two releases onto one CD. This new version splits them onto separate discs and includes other tracks recorded at the time that ended up on split releases with Goatsnake and Asva. Considering Burning Witch releases are now nigh on impossible to find, it is a good job Southern Lord have made this (rather lovely looking) package. The music is heavy beyond heavy; by the end of the two discs I am left with a feeling of having pushed a boulder up a hill for eternity and thinking that eternity is not long enough.
The first CD features the Towers… album along with "The Bleeder," which was recorded during the same sessions. Listening to this now is still an experience, extreme metal has not really moved on from the treacle black dirge of this album. Stephen O'Malley may have refined the formula along with the other members of Khanate but the blueprints are all roughly the same. There is a heavy dose of Norwegian black metal in the sound but combined with the brute, slow force of Swans; the mood is crushing, bleak and darker than the charred remains of a burnt witch. There is little evidence of the Sabbath worship that most doom bands go in for, the riffs are colossal but cut from a completely different form of rock than Tony Iommi etches his out of.
Fossils that would later evolve into Sunn O))) riffs can be heard on "Sacred Predictions": the gruelling chug that propels the track sounding like the precursor to the caveman riffs of The Grimmrobe Demos. Steve Albini captures the monstrous power of the music; the drums are immense, like they are bursting through reality, and the vocals rip through the mix like a razor. "Sea Hag" is this disc's best point, nearly a quarter of an hour of sludgy despair. Edgy 59's vocals sound more like the cries of the tormented than a living human and it is impossible not to feel uneasy during this song.
The second CD contains the material from the Rift.Canyon.Dreams sessions where Burning Witch change drummers to continue the bludgeoning. These songs have never quite hit me in the same way as those from Towers…, to say that Burning Witch became formulaic is wrong but that is the closest I can come to expressing my feelings on Rift.Canyon.Dreams. That being said, the group still absolutely slay all pretenders to the throne. The over-long "Stillborn" does take the wind out of this disc's sails, killing the atmosphere that is built up on Towers… but luckily "History of Hell (Crippled Lucifer)" finds the group pummelling their instruments (and vocal chords) to create a fantastic slab of doom.
Burning Witch remain as potent today as they were a decade ago. In fact they sound more potent now as they highlight how weak many metal bands are in comparison. Sunn O))) and Boris may have opened up the doors for a whole new generation of extreme metal fans but Crippled Lucifer will open up the gates to an underworld they did not know existed. This is a remarkable collection of recordings that has deserved the reissue treatment for some time. I knew what to expect but for a newcomer, this will blow their ears off. If it was not an old release this would instantly be my album of the year.
samples:
With Heather Leigh turning her pedal steel loose on audiences across Europe, this live disc is more sonically aggressive than her previous releases. In performance Heather might have usually sat static at her pedal steel tearing at the strings, but the sounds still have the ability to rear up and forward like some venom sluicing cobra. Her evolution towards something between the state of song and primacy continues, but this time with sinews motorized by force.
Murray's music always brings to mind the idea of sinew, of something organic and muscular but twisted and reformed in a funhouse mirror. "It Dreamed To Me" is a howl, a tone screaming tail lash where treble and Murray merge. The phosphorescent glow of this amalgam pulls at time like strings of chewing gum, Murray delivering pre-folk modes of song. This unconscious primal lament turns to irrational rant, a disorientating swoon of psychedelic shimmer. This opener also features a respite of harmonica playing, the sound rooted to both the desert states of America and of the mind.
Americana is also present in the title of "Railroad Flats," a piece of straight up gone and a paean to slo-mo drowning. This blistering purge of creased light is a turned up roar, drowning out the world in a Haino overdrive. This lengthy tract of split blood and tension is probably her heaviest molten metal yet. Beginning with solo vocals, "Alto Purus Mashco Piro" is the odd lulling warmth of an instrument born for war. This choral melody is soon violated by the falling rain streaks of the accompanying pedal notes. While it is certainly loud, it is not fierce as it predecessor, relying more on tolling play than eye boiling.
samples:
Dark, brooding music from Norway usually involves corpse paint and an obscure relationship with Satan or other so-called dark forces; indeed, restraint and delicacy are hard to come by in the world of spiked gauntlets and troll vocalists. On the other hand, bands like Ulver write albums like Shadows of the Sun, demonstrating that fragile arrangements and understatement are often more oppressive than any heavy-handed guitar riff.
Jester
Ulver have been reinventing themselves over the past 14 years, providing substantially varied records that would please everyone from the black metal enthusiast to the Vangelis junky. When the band's reach exceeds its grasp, the results are shaky at best, but when their focus overrides any tendency towards flamboyance, they're just as likely to seem brilliant. Shadows of the Sun represents their brilliance; despite a number of contributors and a string quartet, this record is ascetic and tightly knit. It resonates and hums meditatively, avoiding bombast in favor of careful dynamics and subtle crescendos. The environment of sound they build over 40 minutes is lethargic and murky, beginning with the icy "Eos." The simple melody of a cathedral-like organ burns slowly beneath Kristoffer Rygg's half-whispered, half-sung vocals before Pamelia Kurstin's beautiful theremin playing elevates the song and adds an oddly enchanting quality to it. By the time the string quartet has entered, it is difficult to distinguish the various instruments from each other as they all breathe together and create an immense gravity that gives the song an almost religious quality.
"Eos" makes the plain this album's strongest and weakest points. The arrangements are, from start to finish, elegant and simple without ever being dull. The lyrics, however, always leave a little to be desired. Rygg's voice is a pleasant tenor, but his poetry is sometimes over-simple and sometimes outright silly. As a human instrument he adds a priceless depth to many of the record's best songs (especially "All the Love"), but as a man of words he often fails to invoke much more than romantic idealism or youthful wonder. Nevertheless, songs such as "Vigil" call to mind hopeless scenarios and impossible odds rather than the vibrancy of life. "Vigil" in particular utilizes chanted vocals and edited sounds to evoke desolation and destruction; Christian Fennesz's contributions to the track are well-employed. As the tension of that track breaks, the swirling title track takes over and establishes a stasis that would not be as effective if it weren't for the way the band arranged these songs and drew them together.
Also of note is the band's exemplary cover of Black Sabbath's "Solitude." With melody and rhythm intact, Ulver take the song apart piece by piece and reassemble it with war drums, ravaged vocal chords, and a muted trumpet performance that speaks of more loneliness and pain than any flute ever could. I had not paid any attention to the tracklisting the first time I listened to this and when the cover came on it was both a shock and a welcome surprise. It fits in with the rest of the record and though it is perhaps the most conventionally arranged song on the album, it almost comes as a relief. The familiar bass line breaks up the suffocating elements of the record and give it a liveliness it would not have without the cover. The final songs are filled with extended string notes and bass-heavy piano performances that are as crushing as Sabbath's heaviest riffs; it is an uneasy ending to a record, but a fitting one. As morose as these songs are, I find myself returning to them over and over again. Gloom-ridden as it is, Shadows of the Sun is a spellbinding blend of careful composition and exact production.
samples:
Back in 1993, Inade released Burning Flesh on two cassettes which immediately made an impression on the underground music scene, with its blackest of black dark ambient sketches and soul-crushing gloom, and established the reputation and credentials of the two protagonists René Lehmann and Knut Enderlein. The follow-up, Aldebaran, originally released in 1996 equally caused something of a commotion when news of its imminent reissue–in a new third, unlimited, edition–emerged earlier this year. For those of us who missed it the first time around, myself included, this has been something of a much anticipated release.Aldebaran is eight tracks of gloriously gloomy and hellish doom ambience lasting for over an hour. Mikael Stavöstrand’s Inanna had also explored similar territory around the same time, but Inade had brought the genre to a pitch of perfection with this release; the duo floated to the top of the black pool that is the dark ambient genre and their reputation became totally entrenched, both in terms of their vision and the quality of the releases.
Aldebaran is based around the German Vril Society of the interwar years and their myths concerning the star. It was considered to be the Black Sun of the Secret Knowledge, in other words, unadulterated spiritual power. According to their doctrines the origin of that universal spirituality emanated from this very star—along with the human race—but given the later developments in German interwar politics and with the creation of organisations such as the Vril and Thule Societies the malign aspects of so-called 'spiritual' power became all too apparent.
With this in mind, there is, above all, a vast freezing coldness bestriding the entire album, a reflection of that malignity and the cold stretches of airless space in the gulf between our supposed origins and our home perhaps. It must be supposed that members of this society lamented the separation from their 'brethren' and that they keenly felt that separation. On here it is captured in that very freezing coldness to perfection. In keeping with history's view of later events, a streak of hidden malice runs through this, with walls of solid black tones, pulsating waves of bitterness, crushing explosions of noise, wails and voices dragged from the very depths of hell itself, along with blanketing swathes of night-encrusted hatred, alien skitterings echoing in dank cathedral spaces and, brooding over all, a coldly calculating demonic intelligence that is the inhuman heartbeat of the album. The word uplifting could never be applied to this release, the malicious vein of misanthropy is almost a tangible force that beats you around the head.
Just like any other type of music there are those whose output is merely competent and workmanlike. There's no pretence at originality—simply taking what others have done and regurgitating it—and they offer nothing ground-breaking. Inade however were forging a new style then, pushing the envelope to use the vernacular, and even today, nearly 12 years later and with all the developments within the genre during that time, it still feels fresh and innovative and can hold its own. I can almost guarantee that the same will hold true of Aldebaran in another 12 year's time.
samples:
All the trademark stylings and sensibilities that have helped to propel Masami Akita's name to the top of the list of respected noise artists are here in abundance on this single 41:29 track CD, released on No Fun's own No Fun Productions label and wrapped in a gorgeous cover drawn by Akita himself.
Within those 41 minutes and 29 seconds is everything from explosions of harsh electronic grind, bursts of whispering static, and grating insectoid rasping; to screeching feedback, thick washes of overwhelming wall-of-noise blasts, siren wails, and rhythmic pulsing. The real trick though that makes this a successful release is the artfulness with which Akita constructs the piece. Rather than assaulting the ears with a constant barrage of barely listenable noise he has layered his material in such a way as to keep the listener constantly engaged, sculpting his creation carefully and precisely. I normally have to be 'in the mood' to listen to extreme noise, but a mark of the quality of Akita's music on this live recording is that I never once found myself thinking "When is this going to end?". Instead, I followed the constantly evolving musical landscape unfolding avidly, as well as the twists and turns, the building and breaking down. What's more—and this for me is something of a litmus test of quality—I can listen to this repeatedly and find something new every time.
I admit I'm a fan; I find Merzbow's music a form of sonic alchemy and Akita having been around for nigh on three decades—and having released somewhere in the region of 300 or more albums in that time—he has had the time to finely hone his craft and get to know the essences of his base materials. The finesse with which he marshals, molds, and creatively manipulates the lead of the raw sounds, finally transmuting them into the gold of his art is, for me, astonishing. Most of us go out of our way to avoid noise in our daily lives but artists such as Merzbow encourage us to look at noise in a different way, to embrace it and see it as a thing of beauty. That is what good art SHOULD do.
samples:
This Portland, Maine based group are members of art-punk-prog-chaos collective Cerberus Shoal along with North East Indie labelmate Micah Blue Smaldone reinvented as a kind of mutant 'bluegrass/folky' quintet using traditional instruments (plus a few unusual ones) such as upright bass, banjo, piano, harmonium, and accordion in addition to harmonized vocals. This is anything but traditional bluegrass or folk, however, as there's a distinctly uneasy edge and fractured sense of reality bordering on dark psychedelia that removes it a million miles from the mainstream forms of those genres, while also acknowledging the debt owed to those uniquely American styles of music.
This is a Web site/live gig only release and comes in beautiful handmade packaging: an original piece of artwork by band member Colleen Kinsella and printed on good quality card stock while the lyrics and credits are printed on vellum. According to the Young God Web site Michael Gira—who also shared production credits with FoF's Caleb Mulkerin—has "an adamant belief in the music" and, to be blunt, I couldn't agree with him more.
This is startlingly haunting, atmospheric, shimmering, and scintillating music, channeling directly into the true heart of life and America, in much the same way as Britain's dark folk current does, scratching beneath the surface glitz and glamor to the hidden and unvarnished every day. Mulkerin's tremulous voice, reminding me of Neil Young without the nasally whine, is a perfect foil for the themes of liberty betrayed, life, death, the curse of old age, and amnesia. Running through each of the five songs is a frisson of edgy tension between the deliciously dark and poetic lyrics—often sung in male/female harmonization—that contrast sharply with the musical backdrop of picked banjos, guitar, piano, and simple percussion. I had shivers running up and down my spine, such was the effect of these offbeat tales of modern life.
Love, loss, friendship, pain, and just the plain old job of getting on with living: it's all there in buckets and delivered with an uncomplicated passion and, moreover, a simplicity that's refreshing. This is, quite simply, a breathtakingly beautiful set of songs.
samples:
