- Jonathan Dean
- Albums and Singles
With the recent RIAA bust of Mondo Kim's in NYC and the news of Apple'smove to Pentium D chips embedded with copyright-protection lockdownsystems, it's pretty clear that the recording industry and Hollywoodaren't planning on slowing down their draconian Gestapo tactics anytimesoon. That's why Negativland's new album No Business could not have arrived at a better time. No Businessis far more than an album: it's a multimedia essay and meditation onthe concepts of public domain, fair use, copyright law and theramifications of digital media filesharing on the music business as ithas existed for the past several decades.Seeland
In addition to advertised"EIGHT TRACKS of AUDIO on a ROUND CD," this generous package fromSeeland also contains a 18-page essay entitled "Two relationships to acultural public domain," a hilarious Quicktime video and a whoopeecushion toy emblazoned with the "circle c" copyright symbol. The essayitself is perhaps the best thing about the album, as it touches on manyissues and possible trajectories for the current war between themainstream music business and the internet-savvy consumer. Negativlandmake several modest proposals about the future of the music business inlight of the digital revolution, some of which involve the very realpossibility that making music may no longer be a viable way to makemountains of cash. This is not necessarily the end of popular music;but it may very mean the end of corporate music. As Negativland pointout in their essay, they themselves have never made any kind ofreasonable living off of their music, but they continue making itanyway, because they have a sincere desire to make music. Having beenat the receiving end of several well-publicized lawsuits because oftheir plunderphonic audio collaging, which frequently took jabs atcorporate-label music such as U2 and Michael Jackson, Negativlandclearly know of whence they speak, and this makes for an engaging read,one of the best and most level-headed essays I have read on the topic.The accompanying CD may be the weakest link of the package, whichthough it does have several very amusing moments, is not nearly asstrong as their last album, the fantastic Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak,an unsung masterpiece of noise. This CD is something of a first forNegativland, as it is entirely constructed from plunders and samples,with no additional voicework over top, as is the usual case for thealbums derived from their Over the Edge radio broadcasts.Instead, it's a series of People Like Us and Evolution ControlCommittee-style gags, resplicing Ethel Merman until she's singinglyrics like: "There's no business like stealing/It's so appealing."Also in the audio blender are The Beatles, the soundtrack to Disney's The Little Mermaid,an RIAA spokesman's speech at the Grammy Awards, a vintage radio dramaand other sources too various to mention. The oversized wallet thathouses the album and essay is filled with so much corporate iconographyand mythological characters, it looks like the dual wet dream of JosephCampbell and Marshall McLuhan. All told it's an absolutely fantasticpackage from Negativland, and I'd suggest getting your hands on itbefore the RIAA shuts down its sale on account of all those peskyunauthorized samples.
samples:
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Bubble Core Records
\With Bem-Vinda Vontade, the latest release onhis own Bubble Core Records label, Pierce has employed a full band onabout half of the disc's nine tracks, including HiM bandleader andfellow drummer, Doug Scharin. Having seen Mice Parade in liveperformance just as this disc was being released, I can totallyunderstand the appeal of inviting the live group to record on some ofthis disc; master-skilled classical and Flamenco guitars (though Piercehim is a great player), multi-faceted keyboards that more than fill inthe gap of a non-existent bass player, and Scharin's sleek andpolyrhythmic drumming. "Nights Wave" beautifully rings withnylon-stringed guitar chords and vibes over slinky beats which set thefoundation for a heartfelt vocal exchange of loss between Pierce andM�m's Kristin Anna Valtysd�ttir, who also lends her accordion chops.This one still has me hitting the repeat button. The novelly titled"The Days Before Fiction" starts from a wall of plucked guitars, keysand vibes driven by turnaround beats only to transform into traditionalTropicallia for a spell and shift back again without disturbing a hairof the groove. Distorted, upper-register guitar chugs away againstValtysd�ttir's vocals and the bombastic, yet laid-back drums on "TheBoat Room" which gradually becomes complimented with intertwiningvibraphone. One of those discs where you hear something new with eachlisten, Bem-Vida Vontade has far too many salient points todescribe in one review. One noteworthy element about this disc isPierce and company incorporating vocals on a good chunk of this disc.With these new zealous compositions, Mice Parade appears to be leaningmore towards an edgier style of the experimental pop music that cameabout in the late 1960s, but without any pressure to defy themainstream.
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- Albums and Singles
Everything on this record screams of biological energy; the music casts a shadow over the room the second it begins and, as it continues, strange flora begins to bloom from it left and right. Lee Norris' work in Metamatics has little to do with this more abstract moniker and it's of little surprise that the Lampse label has decided to make Septs Vents its inaugural release.
Lampse
First and foremost, it's a beautiful album crawling with night life; fire flies, crickets, owls, and the ominous crunch of dead limbs and old leaves populate every corner of each of these 11 tracks and though it is inviting at times, the majority of this nocturnal beast overflows with an ambient horror. When the hissing and ephemeral life becomes to dense, like a plague of locusts or any insect buzzing over a continent mindlessly, Norris loosens his approach up and allows some sunlight to creep through the dark curtains his monumental sounds can cast. Guitars of near-Spanish descent part the canopy and wooden percussion stroll along underneath creating small oases of comfort and liquid relief. Listened to as background music, Sept Vents acquires a strange flow that twists and turns uncomfortably; it's never allowed me to keep my attention elsewhere for very long and often the shifts in tempo and demeanor will draw me away from my books or from my computer. Close listens bring out a strange logic of indiscernible organic samples and immediately recognizable electronic pulses; the album doesn't exactly play itself out as a strictly electronic album, but it doesn't revel in the realm of field recording, either. The sounds are heavily processed, but remain identifiable enough to feel wholesome, frightening, familiar, or alien (sometimes simultaneously). Lampse may be another label to watch closely, if this record is any indication of its musical platform and commitment to good music, then it's likely that there will be plenty more strange worlds coming from this camp.
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microindie (US) / Fortuna Pop! (UK)
Bearsuit have a lot stacked against them,so it's surprising that Cat Spectacularmanages to succeed when it is so tempting to simply call them twee-popopportunists and move on. Part of what makes Bearsuit's debut album soenjoyable is easily summed up in the 2:57 of "Cookie Oh Jesus," whereloud, fuzzy guitars and drums take the stage only to be whisked asideby shaky trumpets, insistent tambourines, and the intertwiningmale-female vocals of Iain Ross and Lisa Horton. It's a sugar rush thatdoesn't induce tummy aches or diabetes. Elsewhere, the band let thetempos and the noise slacken, such as on the awkward shuffle of"Cherryade" and "On Your Special Day," a song about life after themachines have turned on their masters that contains the best vocalperformance from Horton who wonders "Why, why are the machines sosad?/Why must they exact such terrible revenge upon the small?" on topof Ross' yearning voice and a bed of gently plucked guitars andrecorders. Bearsuit are not poised to break any new sonic ground to besure, but that hardly matters. They have enthusiasm and charm, andwhile they have a few checks they need to write for Boyracer, Henry'sDress, and Unrest, Cat Spectacular manages to be exactly what it should be for its 29 minute duration: a fun, noisy pop record.
samples:
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- Lucas Schleicher
- Albums and Singles
Troniks/PACrec
The album consists ofthree long pieces and two shorter, these serving more as setupcompositions for the giants that follow them. "Permeating Tissue" is astrange beginning; a vacuous low-end loop cycles over a series ofatmospheric bubbles and gasps for roughly thirteen minutes- the resultisn't boredom, but a strange trance ensues that covers the rest of thealbum in a blackness only a subject like the plague could evoke. Infact, the rest of the album seems to issue a blackness that chokesevery sound Candey decided to use. "The Watchman, The Visited, and TheUnder-Sexton" might have been a medieval chant culled from an oldmonastery still sitting in the mountains of France, but instead issounds like possession, an incendiary demon ripping apart every holysymbol and fracturing the physical body until the soul begins to bleedfrom the bones. Five minutes may not register as much time for anoise-maker to establish such a vivid mood in a piece, but Candey pullsit off with grace. The sounds on the album all feel old, the static andhissing producing the effect of being in a library at times. This couldvery well have been a recording of the plague years, though thefrequent spacious elements used on the record give it a mystical air,as though a Masonic library would be far more appropriate. "FinallySilent" is the 25 minute closer and, true to its name, squelches theprevious four tracks in its size and stature. Screaming, scraping, andabsolutely dying to be released from the terror the album emanates,"Finally Silent" emasculates and devours everything, leaving a tinyquiet place in its wake that feels less like relief and more likedesperate loneliness, a tiny figure waiting to die.
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- Jonathan Dean
- Albums and Singles
Beta-Lactam Ring
City Calls Revolution is better recorded and the performances far more energetic and memorable than those on last year's He's Crying 'Look',though the band is still mining the same post-progressive rockterritory, all breathless guitar dynamics, virtuosic drumming andhistrionic, shrieking vocals. Opening track "Concrete City Breakdown"unashamedly begins with a sprinkling of spacey Korg synths and T'sheavily phased Fender Jazz bass, before opening out into aHawkwind-meets-Zappa thing, which continues for perhaps longer than itought to, but is never boring. dead k's broken English squawking isgrating until he really starts bellowing and screaming, and then it's aperfect match for the group's tireless stop-start, adrenaline-pumpedmetal meanderings. Luckily, GMFTPO isn't the sort of progressive bandthat pauses for five-minute solos on bass or drums, so things keepmoving at a breakneck clip, which is good. "OMGS" and "Demagog" [sic]are two shorter tracks sandwiched between the album's behemoth sidelongtracks, and serve as excellent showcases for the group's concise,efficient songwriting efforts, which I actually quite prefer to theirmore long-winded tracks. The trio effortlessly changes key and tempo,barreling through endless corridors of seething rock dynamism, T andA's interplay on "Demagog" at times resembling the stunning openingsequence of Yes' "Heart of the Sunrise." (I admit it, I'm a huge fan ofYes. So sue me.) Ending things off on a post-Floydian note of building,churning splendor is the 38 minutes of "A Day in the Planet Orange,"which creates a cyclical architecture of blistering guitar soloing,intense drumming and complex bass acrobatics. My patience did wear abit thin by the time the group geared up for their final ascent intothe stratosphere, but if I had been on just a little bit of kind bud,I'm sure it would all have seemed a lot more exciting. Not that youneed drugs for GMFTPO's hairy psych-prog showstoppers to make animpression, but it doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt at all. - Jonathan Dean
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Bella Union
Art of Fighting may not be breaking newmusical ground but they do know a good melody when they hear one. Theopening track "Along the Run" is a beautiful little song, itsshimmering guitars are very much in tribute to Johnny Marr and OllieBrown's vocals cut through the song clearly and powerfully. Songs like"Break for Me" and "Sing Song" are great examples of a band playing toeach other and adding only what is necessary to the piece. "WhereTrouble Lived" in particular is stunning, Peggy Frew's vocals suitingthe music perfectly to make a song that Low are probably kickingthemselves for not writing it first. If the album could keep this paceI'd be ranting and raving about it but Art of Fighting have an oddhabit of sticking some very weak tracks in between some very nicesongs. The first half of the album is a hodgepodge of good and bad."Your Easy Part" completely destroys the mood that "Along the Run"creates. "Two Rivers" is at first awkward, it fumbles along until allof a sudden it erupts into a thick wall of guitars and Brown's singingsoars. At this point the band seems to have found their feet and therest of the album is solid. Second Storey is a charming album but you have to be prepared for the couple of sore thumbs that mar the first few tracks. - John Kealy
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- Lucas Schleicher
- Albums and Singles
Troniks/PACrec
With such a provocative title,I was hoping for something a tad more thematic to come from these two.Some variation is in order here and its still unclear to me what any ofthese songs have to do with the theme presented in the artwork and songtitles. "The Smell of Hospitals" and "Some Sedatives" could've been agreat opportunity to revel in the drugged up hallucinations of hospitalpatients and the perpetual discomfort of visitors, but instead they aresimply two grinding pieces of static and whirlpool noise jammed up therear end of a sick man and left there for maximum evisceration. One isloud, the other is soft, but both feel as though they are composed ofvarious ingredients recorded through the remixing properties of ahousehold blender. The excellently titled "This is the Body I OnceOccupied," on the other hand, wraps up the album on a positive note.While it still sounds as though it was recorded with the help of awashing machine or maybe an industrial wood cutter, there's a bit morespace within the stereo and a little more variation pops up on thistrack than anywhere else on the album. It makes for a more interesting,though slightly less intense listen. Pleasure, Commerce, and Diseaseisn't the most varied record ever, which doesn't surprise me: it's beenmade to chew on flesh and bone, not scatter the mind with any amount ofmental trickery. Whatever shortcomings it has in the way of creativeexploration, it attempts to make up for that in sheer volume and gusto.If having bad hearing for a few days isn't bothersome, then Ramirez andSkin Crime have crafted quite a killer worthy of its overpoweringambition. - Lucas Schleicher
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- Jonathan Dean
- Albums and Singles
Troubleman Unlimited
Earth's sound was certainly determined inpart by the Seattle grunge scene of which they were peripherally apart, and also by the overcast, gloomy weather, epidemic heroinaddiction and economic disenfranchisement of their Olympia, Washingtonhome. Inspired, it seems, by Ozzy Osbourne and Tony Iommi's musicalresponse to similar conditions, Earth not only adopted the originalname for Black Sabbath, they also copped the heavy, oppressive,resonant blues riffing, bringing it to an entirely new level of purityand abstraction, dispensing with vocals and pushing the distortion,feedback, and subharmonic drone into the red. I had hoped that Earth'sreunion might produce some new vital new music that could blow all ofthe current imitators out of the water, but so far all of theirreleases have been live recordings, reissues or remixes, none asremarkable as classic efforts like Earth 2 or Pentastar: In the Style of Demons.The first track on this disc is a 14-minute solo performance by Carlsonrecorded live on the air at WNYU, playing in his trademarkedslow-motion dirge style, allowing plenty of sludge to spray off eachdownbeat minor chord. Though the performance is certainly competentenough (at least by Earth standards), it lacks any sort of interest ordevelopment that would keep up interest for its entire length. Thisproblem is even more apparent with the hour-long behemoth title track,recorded live in NYC on the same day as the first track. Engagingdrumming by Davis keeps things afloat for longer than they might have,but Carlson's improvisations frequently derail and wander too longthrough repetitive chord progressions, or get too caught up inmasturbatory bouts of aimlessness. As is always there in Earthrecordings, those thick, vibratory, third-eye guitar drones make manywelcome appearances, but are never given enough free reign, and Dylan'stortured acrobatics become a distraction. When Carlson and Davis areon, they are really on, but the off moments are far more frequent thanthey should be. The recording itself also leaves a bit to be desired,sometimes resulting in a confused mix and weird audio dropouts. Sinceit seems that Earth are back now, if not for good than at least for alittle while, I wish they would consider recording a new studio album,as Living in the Gleam just isn't doing it for me. - Jonathan Dean
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- Chris Roberts
- Albums and Singles
Quatermass
To his credit, in the pastSensational has made a name for himself by being lyricallyidiosyncratic (muffled and mumbled vocals delivered at a frenetic pace)and uncompromisingly lo-fi musically (usually making tunes with nothingmore than a four track recorder and a Fat Boys-era drum machine). Theformula has worked before (this is his sixth solo album) and his indiecred is unquestionable, but Speaks for Itself falls flat on itsface from the first rhyme ("I always rock it right/ I always rock itright/Yea, I'm just so cool/ Yea, check my ice/ Blind ya sight"), andfrom there it just keeps on falling. For starters, the production is socriminally terrible that it's a wonder Quatermass bothered to releaseit. The beats are plain weak, uninspired at best but mostly justintolerable. Worse, the levels are all over the place. Sometimesthey're so high as to strain the speakers and drown out the lyrics,which is a blessing: after all this time in the game, Sensationalhasn't learned how to speak into a mic. He's either so close that hiswords are smothered in sibilance and popped Ps or he's about ten feetaway, drowned out in room echo. It might all be worth it if Sensationalwere some unheralded musical mastermind who just happened to be usinghis apartment's lobby as a studio, but he's far from it. Sensational'spoetic range consists of exhausted (and exhausting) self-aggrandizementthat, delivered in his clownish offhand way, come off as absurdly cornyand about as convincing as Warren Beatty's hip-hop turn in Bullworth.Just when it couldn't get worse, it does: Sensational drops the line "Iwas high when I wrote this" about twice per track, unwittingly makinghimself a Nancy Reaganesque poster boy for the war on drugs. Suchbuffoonish lyrical effrontery would be acceptable if it were part of acollection of freestyles. You can be forgiven for being repetitive orbland or even offensive when there's no prior preparation. But,stunningly, Speaks for Itself is indeed a studio recording -meaning that not only was the material "written" (more likelySensational wiped his ass with the lyric sheet), but that someone laidthese trainwrecks down on tape, listened to them, and pronounced itgood. Who's fooling who here? The rapper or the label? Sensationalisn't in a position where he can move 100,000 units of filler shitejust through use of his name, and Quatermass is no Def Jux. Even so,with a decent producer and a mixing board technician who wasn't AWOL, Speaks for Itselfcould have been salvageable. Sensational is a technically competentrapper with a decent flow but apparently he just can't be bothered, andneither should the listening public. - Chris Roberts
samples:
- I Always Rock It Right
- Flossin' On The Ave
- My Style, You Like
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- Jonathan Dean
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Durtro Jnana
There were also T-shirts for sale with this same cryptictext, untranslatable to all but the most diligent esotericists. Afterseeing Current 93 play all three nights, and popping this CDEP in forthe first time, however, it became quite clear that this was a brandnew Current 93 single, taken from the forthcoming studio album Black Ships Ate the Sky.David Late Tibet and friends are long overdue for a new full-length, soit's very nice indeed to see something surface, a new release ratherthan another in a long line of re-released repackagings of remixed,reshuffled remasters. And luckily, the new material sounds utterlybrilliant: a return to form and some of the best music Current 93 hasmade since 2000's Sleep Has His House. It is clear from the first few seconds, however, that Black Ships in the Sky does not repeat the same minimal, ascetic instrumental palette as Sleep or Soft Black Stars,much to my relief. As much as I loved those albums, I was always hopingthat Current 93 would revisit the fuller, richer, more compositionalarrangements of classic albums like All The Pretty Little Horses and Thunder Perfect Mind,and that is exactly what I got on this single. The EP contains only oneseven-minute track, divided into two sections. The first has DavidMichael describing at intense apocalyptic vision glimpsed at sunset inhis sixteenth year, against a lovely backdrop of fingerpicked guitarand disarmingly gorgeous swells of viola and cello. Though there are nopersonnel listed on the sleeve, I am guessing that these are thecontributions of Simon Finn, William Breeze and Joolie Wood, talentedcollaborators all. As the track passes the three-minute mark, thingssuddenly become dark and nightmarish, and the music becomes a series ofnoisy, staccato string stabs, electronic pulses and the searingelectric guitar work of Ben Chasny (of Six Organs of Admittance andComets on Fire). David Michael screams and curses his fate, wishing invain that he had been "unborn," straining and cracking his voice,crying out in the abyss: "Who will deliver me from myself? Who willdeliver me from myself?" It's very intense stuff indeed, and bodes verywell for the upcoming album. - Jonathan Dean
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