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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It would hard to live up to the level of anticipation surrounding this debut from Brazilian producer Gui Boratto after his string of tantalizing singles, so I wasn't surprised when it didn't quite meet my expectations. There are plenty of enjoyable moments, but not nearly as many as there should be.
While it's true that he does paint his canvas with brighter colors than many of his contemporaries, some parts seem cut from the standard Kompakt mold. The beginning especially suffers from a few monotonous stretches, with a limited palette of sounds and few rhythms or beats I haven't heard before. However, the album does get better as it progresses, especially when Boratto strays from formulas and tries new things. "Terminal" starts to pick things up a bit, even if it's not particularly groundbreaking, and a nice change after about four minutes into "Shebang" saves the song from its annoying beginning. There aren't a wide variety of textures on the album, although the title track has some welcomed noisier sounds that add some necessary grit.
Dance music isn't particularly known for its brevity, but for the most part it is Boratto's shorter songs that work the best. "Mal√° Strana" is a quieter, much-appreciated interlude, signaling the prettier direction that follows with "Acrostico." "Xilo"makes good use of a guitar, enriching the album with another compositional element. "Beautiful Life," with vocals by Luciana Villanova, is the closest the album gets to an accessible pop song, but at eight and a half minutes long the point drags a bit. Still, it's another pleasant shift in the right direction. "Hera" has a strange, warped collapse before the main melody returns with a new rhythmic undercurrent. The album could have used more surprises like this.
Boratto gets better as he stretches further out of his comfort zone. It takes him a while to get going, and a trim or two might have tightened the focus. Still, there are some great songs here. It just takes a little work to find them.
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Living with the Living is fantastically well done and had it been made in the '70s, it would be a masterpiece. The second song, "Songs of Cain," sounds like a cross between The Replacements' "Bastards of Young" and the Clash's "Hateful" and as unlikely as it may seem, it's almost as good. The same goes for the Costello-ish "Army Bound" and "The Unwanted Things," which sounds like the Clash in reggae mode. These songs have a certain brilliance, but it's greatly reduced by their unoriginality. Listening to this album is like hitting on a hot and vacant woman when there's already a beautiful and smart one at home.
Had Ted Leo been born 30 years earlier, it’s possible he would be regarded as a genius. But just as likely, he could have looked at the burgeoning punk scene of the late 1970s and started a fantastic doo-wop band.
I'm never opposed to making time for a new record from The Sea and Cake. While they don't explore new territory, I'm never let down. Everybody is a once again welcome record to mark the end of the cold season, optimistically looking forward to more pleasant, brighter days.
Bassist Eric Claridge and drummer John McEntire create a firm, impenetrable rhythm backbone while vocalist/guitarists Sam Prekop and Archer Prewitt pepper it with positive pleasantry. The Sea and Cake have defined their own brand of pop, creating uplifting tunes that don't sound out of place alongside the springier Stereolab and the more rocking Laika.
The effects of cold, grey, and windy North American cities can take their toll on people, and The Sea and Cake music makes for a great remedy. It's probably no accident that their albums arrive early on in the year, just as the blossoms are starting to come out. Everybody is no exception and I have found myself playing it often while keeping the windows open: even if it can still get a little cold outside I'm anxious for the warmth and brightness. "Up On Crutches" sets the album in motion from the beginning and the moderate pace continues almost seamlessly through "Too Strong," but the bold guitar riffage and hand claps on "Crossing Line" makes the first strong statement on the album, making for a great repeatable singalong song.
I'm always impressed at how efficient The Sea and Cake music is arranged. This 10 song collection takes up less than 40 minutes and the songs, while rich in arrangement and full of Prekop's lyrics, get right to the point and leave when they're done, or almost. While my personal fave on the album, "Lightning," stands out as one of the tunes that waits almost no time before jumping into the vocals, the following "Introducing" fades out a little prematurely for my liking. It makes me eager for the band to take only a slight more varied approach to their records. Instead of fading out, it would be something almost shocking if the band went and jammed on it for about three times as long.The album ends with the unusually (for them) slow and undeniably pretty ballad, "Transparent," accented with a sparkling acoustic guitar. Lyrics like "it's starting all over, the spring comes around" aren't prophetic but they do resonate with me at the end of the disc.
The most arresting aspect of Everybody is its lavish package: a digipack with a pocket that holds a meaty book of scribbled personal notes on graph paper along with some black and white photo reprints. The color white has always been a prominent feature with all their releases and while it's good to get away from that, the silvery grey theme, with black and white images inside of snow, geese, and urban landscapes, is a bit of a bleak contrast to the music. Regardless, this is a very mobile album which lends itself to portable devices, headphones for work, or for a good drive, so I doubt people will flip through the package much while it's playing.
I can't help but think it's time for The Sea and Cake to take another sidestep: perhaps another remix EP like the fantastic Two Gentlemen or the respectable Glass, but I'd be quite happy with a collection of all those pesky Japanese-only bonus tracks as well. For now, I'm satisfied with a summer-friendly album like Everybody, and have made plenty of use of it already.
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Artist: SUTCLIFFE JÜGEND / SATORI
Title: Japan Tour 2007
Catalogue No: CSR83CD
Format: CD in PVC sleeve with 2 artcards
Genre: Power Electronics / Death Industrial
Shipping: 3rd May 2007
Split release from these two British acts for their Japanese Tour in April 2007.
After "THIS IS THE TRUTH" Sutcliffe Jügend continue to fuck with your brain. This time with a twenty eight minute diatribe against those who choose the path of least resistance, and suggest not only that they face their demons but embrace them. Are they questioning the listener or holding up a mirror and not liking what they see? Sutcliffe Jügend continue to explore and understand the human condition with more depth and clarity of vision than a hundred singer/songwriters. A collage at turns ambient, experimental and explosive, they leave the listener thinking where next and more importantly - who is next in the line of fire.
Satori arises with its first official release after 12 years of silence. 3 tracks of prime Fortean Electronics and Death Sonics, exploring the Noise side of Satori. Inspired by the Ringu trilogy, these tracks probe the hidden world of dead channel transmissions and unseen realms of the ether. This is the precursor to the Dark Ambient full-length album "KANASHIBARI", to be released on Dogma Chase Records / Molehill, Japan in 2007.
Limited to 500 copies only with all-exclusive studio tracks.
Full details and ordering : Cold Spring Records�
Mojave3 members form new band The Loose Salute. Fans of Fleetwood Mac, The Byrds, The Mamas and the Papas, Wilco and Midlake tune in to debut album Tuned To Love.
The Loose Salute came to life a couple years ago when Mojave3’s Ian McCutcheon (drums & vocals) and Alan Forrester (piano & organ) were in the studio recording the band’s third album Excuses for Travelers. One day at the Fortress Rehearsal Studios’ café, McCutcheon overheard Lisa Billson (vocals) belting out Bob Dylan’s “Sad-eyed Lady of the Lowlands,” while she cooked at the studio café.
Instantly impressed by Billson’s pipes, he asked the songbird if she’d be interested in singing a few tunes he’d written. She loved the songs and got friend Charlotte King (harmonies & percussion) to lend back-ups. Guitarist Pete Greenwood, who played with McCutcheon and Forrester on the last Mojave3 tour, was asked to join the clan shortly thereafter. Together --sometimes with the help of Paul Noble on added bass, surf guitar and mixing skills -- they form The Loose Salute.
The Loose Salute is essentially a pop group, though some have categorized it as folk/pop and even at times alt-country. Songwriting influences range from the likes of The Byrds, The Beach Boys, The Mamas and the Papas, The Eagles and Leonard Cohen. “Basically the albums in my parents’ record collection when I was growing up,” McCutcheon laughs. Some of the more contemporary inspirations include Elliott Smith, Beachwood Sparks, The Tyde, Wilco, The Shins, Midlake and Dr. Dog. ”You could say The Loose Salute sound borrows from all of these bands,” says McCutcheon.” The vibe is different from Mojave3. We’re more of a pop group. It’s a little more fun in places.”
The English group’s debut album Tuned To Love is a record full of summer and nostalgia and songs that make you want to go out, find some friends and dance the night away. The songs are about all the facets of life: falling in and out of love, break-ups, partying, wanderlust, home-cookin’, surfing, travel, fields, beaches, stars and bars…”The general weight of the world,” explains McCutcheon.
“The Mutineer” is an apology song, while “Why’d We Fight?” is a reflective song about breaking up. “‘Through the Stratosphere to the Bars’ is about appreciating the person or people you have in your life,” he says. “We always seem to be looking for something when what we really need is often already right there in front of us.”
After the plug got pulled on the money following the release of its first single, the Suck It Up Buttercup EP, the band decided to just get on with it and make an album themselves. Luckily for them, the EP had managed to gain attention all over the world, catching the ears of Graveface Records in Chicago. A demo and a few meetings later, a conclusion was met and The Loose Salute was signed to Graveface, where they proudly share the roster with indie favorites like Black Moth Super Rainbow, The Octopus Project and The Appleseed Cast. The band has since been hibernating in the studio with hot-shot engineer Gareth Parton (The Beta Band, The Go Team, The Pipettes, Mojave3) and producer and McCutcheon’s school-yard buddy Pritpal Soor.
Tuned To Love hits the streets and the airwaves this June.
Tuned To Love Tracklisting:
Release Date: June 12th, 2007
01. Death Club
02. Photographs and Tickets
03. From Head To Sandy Toes
04. The Mutineer (VIDEO)
05. Turn The Radio Up (VIDEO)
06. Why’d We Fight?
07. Ballad of The Dumb Angel
08. Through The Stratosphere To The Bars
09. Cold Water
10. Tuned To Love
11. Ship On The Ocean
On The Web:
www.myspace.com/therealloosesalute
Schneider TM attempts to broaden the palate with the help of Max Turner and grandmother Edith Kuss. Thankfully he doesn't abandon the machine-like vocal tendencies that can be so endearing. Not everything works on Škoda Mluvit, but there are moments of bliss and fun.
Confident and obtuse vocals delivered by German speakers, or indeed by robots, can be very satisfying and this new record obliges, up to a point. Schneider TM, a.k.a. Dirk Dresselhaus, had his first huge breakthrough with "The Light 3000," which used voice synthesizers to cover The Smiths' "There Is a Light and It Never Goes Out," and in the process created an expression of emotional knowledge and alienation that was a valuable contribution to the, shall we say, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, debate. It was that rare thing, a cover version that didn't merely attempt to bask in reflected glory or end up just being the unromantic sound of familiarity. "3000" now seems to predict recordings from Mr_Hopkinson's Computer, while echoing elements of Langley Schools Music Project, Eedie & Eddie (two DecTalk‚Ñ¢ voice synthesizers), and Nico (because at her best she sounds like a robot), by using a combination of conviction and innocence to transform familiar material. Most people will have heard the cool digipath CAL from 2001, the voice slowly shifting from a portrayal of emotionless, yet genial assurance, to deranged existential panic. If someone had thought to capture the lonely libidinous ache of the drones from the film Silent Running maybe it would better capture the playfulness of Schneider TM.
There are no covers on Škoda Mluvit, and the record moves further into the use of traditional or real instruments than previous ones. The pace of some of these tracks, along with the always potent and sometimes mechanical vocals, lend urgency to pieces which otherwise have a pretty relaxed feel. Opener "More Time" consists of a chugging electronic beat and synth waves complimenting a few repetitious words. By contrast, "Pac Man/Shopping Cart" features sweet guitar phrases, a click and stutter rhythm and lilting singing to suggest some emotion. As with Tarwater, the voice is so effortlessly commanding that the instructions off a bottle of tablets could be the lyric and it wouldn't matter. It's just as well, since that is exactly the idea for "Caplets." This track plinks and strums along to around the three minute mark with said medicinal advice, before coming back with the voice more synthesized and complimented by the cello of Hildur Gudnadottir. The recurring phrase "8 days a week" may bring unavoidable associations for certain listeners.
"Voudou" has a more funky sensibility that neither gels nor is so artificial that it becomes attractive. The title track has vocals from Edith Kuss and hip hop artist Max Turner. I'm not about to say anything bad about anyone's grandmother but I prefer "The Blacksmith" also featuring Turner. It is more swinging and benefits, as would virtually anything, from quoting Curtis Mayfield and mentioning Leadbelly. Sometimes, even the worst lyrics can sound good: "Time flies by, like a fly" from "Cateractact" works, again due to Schneider TM's confident delivery, here allied to a wind-up, catapulting sense of percussion. Strangely the least convincing moments on Škoda Mluvit come when the words 'fucking' and 'motherfucker' are used.
An argument once ensued in our house as to the meaning of Barbie TM. One party felt that this was her initials (Tina Marie) whereas another was sure that it referred to her status as a Tall Model. This was not a particularly challenging nor totally rewarding listen, but rather there are some choice tracks that stand out, almost a trademark of the endearingly flawed Schneider TM sound. Most disappointing of all is "The World's A Cup" which appears to sneer in vague complaint at the 2006 World Cup tournament, held in Germany. The contrast with The Colonel’s fabulous "Cup My Balls" (on V/VM) is stark. The Colonel's leering and romping with overtones of empiric conquest and thuggish pillage was a jaw-dropping masterpiece of innuendo and Bond uber-riffing; as if John Barry were holed-up in the Playboy mansion watching games between, well, you know... Schneider TM's is the opposite and just seems a bit of miserable moan. Thankfully, just before that, "The Slide" harks back to some of the more affecting moments of the Factory Records catalogue. The understated track is seemingly throwaway, appears aimless, and yet comes across as profound. A trick that Schneider TM can probably repeat anytime he feels like it.
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Repackaged, remastered and reissued with a 13 minute bonus track, this mighty release from Kevin Drumm sees the dark of night again. The five pieces are more varied and exciting than I believed noise could be; this is no lazy DIY noise made with a handful of effects pedals plugged into each other. Drumm has molded this immense sound into such an imposing form that I do not think even an army of Merzbows could stand up to.
Sonically seduced by the infinitely reverberating, rapturous depths of this record, I no longer care that Sasu Ripatti essentially mines the same creative space with every Vladislav Delay release. The fact remains that under this moniker he makes perpetually gorgeous, imperfectly fractured ambience, setting the mood for transformation and reflection on a quiet night alone.
Fans have come to expect, and hopefully understand, that this is what a Vladislav Delay album will always sound like. Unlike contemporary Stefan Betke, who pulled a colossal bait-and-switch that many of us sensitive souls still lick our wounds over, Ripatti has kept his bond even as he attempted to bring new ideas to life within the familiar territory of his abstract dubs. The same trick, however, failed to work with his far poppier Luomo project, having reached some kind of ideological limit or perceptual dead-end with last year's tragic and anticlimactic Paper Tigers. By contrast, Whistleblower is an evolving repetition, a gradually yet naturally escalating cycle of real pensive soul-searching music.
Save for the radio-static flecked "Lumi," this album continues the epic tradition that characterizes much of his discography, including 2001's stunning and uninterrupted Anima and 2005's The Four Quarters, many songs nearly reaching and even exceeding the 10 minute mark. As on these cited records, Ripatti takes full advantage of freeing himself of time constraints, exploring his sentient soundscapes in psychedelic fashion on the gloopy title track. Another such example, "Wanted To (Kill)" throbs with an unexpectedly tribal mystique, its percussive pulses alternating between the ritualistic and the funky, rippling through an intricately woven template of damaged sonic goods and soothing textures. "Stop Talking" steps up the chaos level with lo-fi samples aggressively splattered throughout, whipping up an atmospheric uncertainty of shock and awe at its peak that somehow becomes suppressed just long enough to make it to the next track. The disjointed downtempo jam "He Lived Deeply" is replete with discarded drum patterns circa mid-nineties Bristol, adding a slightly more stable rhythmic dimension to an otherwise amorphic work.
An achievement in this landmark 10th year of publicly consumable work from Vladislav Delay, Whistleblower plays out as if salvaged from the recorded remains of some abandoned space station's now-decrepit soundsystem. While that could be applied to any number of his releases, in this case the description fits better than ever, leaving me to wonder what else Ripatti is bound to find deep out there in the cosmos within.
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Describing Redeye feels largely like a grand exercise in futility that doesn’t even offer the simple satisfaction of burned calories. I could sweat over the material here in exhaustive detail for some time, only to find that, at the end of it all, my words make less sense than the record I aimed to explain. Take any given track and a panoply of genres and subgenres are bound to graze the skull, from the electro-symphonic video game orchestras of "Bobfoc" to the folktronica-infused drill n bass of "The Only Way." "Derbyshire Dark" spends much of its first half teasing with dreamy floating electronics before kicking into high gear with a straightforward 4/4 power noise rhythm. Of course, Baker refuses to offer up the satisfaction of a hedonistic dance track, and quickly removes the beat from circulation, ultimately replacing it with a head-nodding groove that he can hardly stand to let breathe for very long. This apparent impatience, coupled with the aforementioned kitchen sink approach, makes it hard to enjoy the best moments of this CD without being suddenly deprived of satisfaction in what eventually starts to seem like some cruel post-Pavlovian game.
Redeye smells of the carefree disregard of a Rephlex record, though in fairness nowhere near as pretentious and preposterous in execution. One gets the impression that Baker is more likely down-to-earth than up his own ass, something than cannot be said for many in Richard D. James' unreliable stable. I suspect that anyone who has listened to an album at any point in their life will enjoy at least two minutes of this CD. Still, despite my cited complaints, those with ridiculously eclectic tastes or an untreated case of A.D.D. may find the album just what their iPod Shuffle demands.
Repackaged, remastered and reissued with a 13 minute bonus track, this mighty release from Kevin Drumm sees the dark of night again. The five pieces are more varied and exciting than I believed noise could be; this is no lazy DIY noise made with a handful of effects pedals plugged into each other. Drumm has molded this immense sound into such an imposing form that I do not think even an army of Merzbows could stand up to.
Mego Editions
Sheer Hellish Miasma begins with the deceptively titled of "Impotent Hummer;" deceptive as there is nothing impotent about this piece nor the rest of the album. Drumm's use of noise is precise and domineering, the sound pushes the listener to where Drumm wants them. He refuses to allow the noise to break down into chaos. Instead he finds a spot in the noise and nurtures it into a gigantic worm-like pulse. "Impotent Hummer" is based on a pounding metallic rhythm which constantly feels like it is going to break apart as other layers are poured into the track like coarse gravel. It is an impressive start and remarkably it gets even better from here.
This album works especially well thanks to Drumm's control of the sounds being produced. While most noise artists throw caution to the wind and just let everything feedback wildly, Drumm instead tries to harness the energy he is unleashing and aim it directly at whoever is brave enough to listen. The tidal drones of "Hitting the Pavement" feel like they could break all around me if it were not for Drumm reining them in. If the power was allowed to swell up and spill out then I imagine the piece would become quite boring in a short space of time. "Hitting the Pavement" instead sounds even more massive than any din left to its own accord.
As captivatingly heavy as this album is, it still exacts a heavy toll on me; I am exhausted by the time it finishes. Thankfully Mr. Drumm is a nice man and lets his audience down gently with the relatively sleepy piece "Cloudy," which soothes the ears after an hour of hard labor. Sheer Hellish Miasma is not hellish by a long shot, it is one of the most finely crafted albums of the last decade. On the surface it is pure noise but delving into its depths reveals far more than the average bedroom knob twiddler. I am delighted that Mego have reissued it as I would probably never have encountered it otherwise.
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