We have finally cleared out the backlog of great music and present some new episodes.
Episode 711 features music from The Jesus and Mary Chain, Zola Jesus, Duster, Sangre Nueva, Dialect, The Bug, Cleared, Mount Eerie, Mulatu Astatke & Hoodna Orchestra, Hayden Pedigo, Bistro Boy, and Ibukun Sunday.
Episode 712 has tunes by Mazza Vision, Waveskania, Black Pus, Sam Gendel, Benny Bock, and Hans Kjorstad, Katharina Grosse, Carina Khorkhordina, Tintin Patrone, Billy Roisz, and Stefan Schneider, His Name Is Alive, artificial memory trace, mclusky, Justin Walter, mastroKristo, Başak Günak, and William Basinski.
Episode 713 brings you sounds from Mouse On Mars, Leavs, Lawrence English, Mo Dotti, Wendy Eisenberg, Envy, Ben Lukas Boysen, Cindytalk, Mercury Rev, White Poppy, Anadol & Marie Klock, and Galaxie 500.
Skolavordustigur Street in Reykjavík photo by Jon (your Podcast DJ).
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Of the many countries visited by Alan Bishop and his crew of guerillamusicologists, Cambodia has perhaps the musical heritage with thegreatest history of popular Western listenership.Sublime Frequencies This is ironic inthat the number of Cambodian recordings in American distribution isstill extremely small, and those that exist, at least those thatpre-date the Khmer Rouge takeover, lack what most would consider thebare minimum in historical notation. Part of the appeal of releaseslike the Cambodian Rocks compilations, or Sublime Frequencies' own Cambodian Cassette Archives,comes from the covertness of their sources: dilapidated,poorly-recorded, unpreserved cassette tapes, hocked (as the story goes)by anonymous cabbies in Phnom Penh, or approaching obscurity inforgotten drawers of the Oakland Public Library. As fun as it may be toimagine a country whose pop culture exists as a kind of romantic ruin,an attic assemblage of label-less artifacts, the story of Cambodian popcomes colored with the darker presence of the Khmer Rouge, whose riseto power in the late 70's resulted in the death of many of thecountry's most talented and popular musicians. Today, in an ironiceffort to preserve the youth's interest in Cambodia's musicaltraditions, the older, classic songs are essentially "re-mixed" forbroadcast, fitted with the punchy rhythm tracks and the syntheticmelodies of a new age. In this radio collage from capital Phnom Penh,Bishop does little to untangle the cultural mish-mash of this people'ssound. Instead, he is content to let old and new songs (broadcast on AMan FM respectively) commingle among the country's already diversepalette of pop and rock influences to create an image of Cambodia todayjust as veiled and illusory as any promoted by Cambodian Rocks.It is impossible to deny that in the 60's and 70's Cambodia producedsome truly vital, though largely unheard pop and rock music. Theirscontains all of the manic, hyper-colorful qualities of Burmese andother Southeast Asian popular styles but receives a more generous doseof the Western rock sound, no doubt the result of the country's statusas a French colony during the 18's, and neighbor to the Americanpresence in Vietnam soon after. There could surely be a new Nuggetsbox compiling Cambodian assimilations of the garage rock sound, theirbright vocal, bell, and horn melodies turning the most generic fuzzygrooves to ecstatic, timeless reveries. Straight Beatles covers meetalongside raga jams from the Indian coast in a fusion that might'vemade George Harrison cringe at his own feeble attempts. There areclipped, funky breaks Dr. Dre could've sampled, slinky opium-denballads, nostalgic wedding songs, and raucous love songs wherecall-and-response vocals dip and soar to vicious, theatric extremes.Unlike past Radio releases on his label, here Bishop leaves thesongs themselves as the primary focus, limiting the commercialsnippits, DJ-speak, and noisy dial-spinning that created such exciting,"real-time" atmospheres on previous discs. As a result, Radio Phnom Penhfeels more like a subconscious document of Cambodia's musical history,where the myriad of influences, old and new, foreign and domestic,creates a crowded snapshot of today, offering little more in terms ofhistorical notation than its predecessors, but remaining anirresistible and invaluable witness.
Indian Soundscapes is a double-album collecting various fieldrecordings made during four trips to India from 2001 to 2004. Therecordings were made by Iyou, otherwise known as Charles Powne, ownerand proprietor of Soleilmoon Recordings since its inception in 1987.Soleilmoon This album is released into a market that is currently saturated withethnic field recordings of the kind proffered by Sublime Frequencies,Touch and other labels, and amidst the current vogue for treated andlaptop-edited field recordings that lose all sense of context. Indian Soundscapesdistinguishes itself in being almost entirely dissimilar from all ofthis other material; by simply presenting crisp, clean, unprocessedrecordings that don't aspire to any lofty academic goals. Theserecordings were simply undertaken as a method for a traveler toencapsulate and memorialize the rich audio landscape encountered in anexotic land. As such, it can be experienced as you would experience alengthy trawl through a friend's collection of slides or home videosfrom a recent trip. Depending on your patience and level of engagement,this could either be a recommendation or a warning. Listening to thesediscs, I was treated to two hours of audio snapshots from around India,many taken on street corners and public spaces, where a cacophony ofhuman noises combine with site-specific open-air sounds, randomsnippets of radio music, the tinkling of bicycle bells, the PA systemat a train station, the thick buzz of nighttime insects, birds chirpingand monkeys howling. For the most part, these soundscapes are notedited within an inch of their lives, and many of the tracks areallowed to play until one can fully immerse oneself in this particularlocation. For listeners like me, with extreme synaesthesiacassociations between sound and sight and smell and touch and taste,records like these are a special treat. I was able to fill in thesensory blanks provided by these richly rendered audio documents,smelling the rich smell of spices, engine exhaust, rotting garbage,sulphurous water, musky jungle odors and complex combinations of these.I was reminded of the liberating sense of confusion often experiencedin a foreign place whose language and customs are largely a mystery.There are also some incredibly haunting moments, such as the "EchoingChildren" on the second disc, or the spirited communal singing andmusical performance in the third extract recorded at the TirupatiTemple. The packaging for this collection is lovely: a wooden boximprinted with a colorful primitivist collage houses the double-CD (thealbum is also released on vinyl), and the booklet inside contains manywonderful color photographs of India, also taken by Powne. Thiscollection certainly provoked many moments of self-reflection, where Iquestioned the complicated layers of artifice that Western societyrequires, that seem especially alienating when juxtaposed with thepurely human simplicity of poverty and a daily struggle fortranscendence that characterizes the life of an Indian villager.
It's been close to three years since graphic illustrator and Sea andCake guitarist, Archer Prewitt, released his wonderfully poppy disc, Three.In the meantime he's had a busy few years: performing with his liveband; the death of his father; recording and subsequent touring withSea and Cake. With Wilderness, his fifth recording as a soloartist, he's again picked up with his ongoing love with '70s pop/rocksensibilities, which are apparent in his compositions.Thrill Jockey However, thistime out the classic songwriting hooks and riffs which grabbed myattention on previous recordings aren't as plentiful. Prewitt'ssongwriting and arrangements have become fragmented with a fair bit ofdynamic shifts to create drama ranging from joyous to sullen, sometimeswithin the same song. While good and strong progressions and melodiesabound, on tracks such as "Leaders" and "O, KY," it sounds as thoughPrewitt hadn't been too concerned with smooth transitions betweensections. Instead, he uses a fair bit of stops/starts and forced tempochanges that come across as stream-of-consciousness songwriting.Although an interesting approach for a concept album, Prewitt's takingliberties created a fair bit of distraction and had me checking myplayer's tracking to see if I was still listening to the same song.Drop-tuned acoustic guitar matched with piano, strings and bowed vibesenhance the great sense of loss on "No More" with wavering vocalssinging lines such as "There's no more running from it now / I haveoften wondered what's our move / There's no more wondering about it now/ Now our time is here." Prewitt quickly became one of my favoriteguitarists after I saw him perform years ago as part of fellow Sea andCake member Sam Prekop's band, thanks in part to a combination of hischord voicings, which added a slight jazz complexity, and his overalltone. I spent the better part of a year listening to Prekop's solorecord, not just for its overall musical greatness, but also forPrewitt's augmentation which I could clearly pick out from havingwitnessed it live. That same style of slightly angular performancewelcomingly turns up on the smokey "Think Again" and pushes on with theheavier-handed, strings and horns-dotted "Cheap Rhyme" for an overalluplifting number. The moods of Wilderness gradually become morecheerful with each passing track thanks to lush vocal layers and otherorchestral augmentation. I considered the possibility of this being a"concept" album, only to give it up and take it for what it is: aquirky yet sincere pop record.
With 2002's The Creek Drank the Cradle,singer-songwriter Sam Beam established himself as a substantial talent,with a knack for performing uncomplicated, acoustically arranged songswith incredible, unforgettable hooks that stuck in my mind after asingle listen.Sub Pop The album was a strictly low-fidelity affair, a bedroomrecording which placed no distance between artist and listener, Beam'ssoothing voice unmediated by ostentatious production. His gentle,literate and introspective songs recalled the best work of Nick Drakeand Neil Young, without imitating either. Apparently the low-fi soundof the first record was less of an aesthetic choice than one offinancial necessity, as every Iron & Wine release since that firstalbum has added greater and greater technical sophistication to theproduction. With the release of the Woman King EP, Beam takes aclear and deliberate step into indie mainstream, as it were, producinga six-song suite with a big band sound, lots of composition and layersof vocal harmony. The gentle banjo and guitar are still there, but arenow joined by piano, violin, electric guitar and percussion. First off,without sounding like too much of a humbug, I'll go ahead and profferthe opinion that this bigger production style just doesn't work forBeam's intimate folk songs. Second, two albums and two EPs into hiscareer, Sam Beam's songs are starting to feel a little too familiar forcomfort. Playing this album directly after listening to 2004's Our Endless Numbered Days,there is definitely a formula behind Beam's songs. He's got arepertoire of about four or five tempos and chord progressions that hekeeps recycling, varying the instrumentation and key between eachtrack. A certain feeling of deja vu sets in after listening to Iron& Wine for a while, and while some might call this a "signaturestyle," I am tempted to dismiss it as repetition and self-plagiarism.Lyrically, this EP is all about the female of the species, with songsabout woman kings, "Jezebel" ("She was born to be the woman we couldblame"), "My Lady's House" and Lilith ("We were born to fuck eachother/One way or another"). The thematic conceit is interesting, butcan't distract from the uniform quality of these songs. The moments ofpseudo-Appalachain twanging heard throughout the album are toopredictable for anyone who has listened to Iron & Wine's pastalbums. As a brief spacer in anticipation of a new full-length album,the EP works well enough, but the new emphasis placed on the cluttered,mainstream blues-folk composition is an altogether unconvincing movefor Iron & Wine. I won't be surprised if Beam and company continueto rack up the critical accolades, and perhaps they are deserved, butI'm going to have to tune out from this point forward.
Statler & Waldorf The Statler & Waldorf label wanted to kick things off with a sampler based around the concept of European electronic musicians working with the theme of hip hop. Were this not an already a redundant assignment given the world-wide cribbing of hip hop mannerisms in all forms of electronica, it might seem like an interesting cross-cultural experiment. The trouble is that no one on this compilation is a stranger to hip hop, as hip hop's place as the world's dominant youth culture paradigm makes a concept like this a laughable afterthought unless its executed with brilliance. Unfortunately, it isn't. Most everything here is a rehash of the last couple of years of Bip-Hop, ~scape, and Force Inc. releases and the already myriad spin-offs and imitators. One track has a little bit of dub, another goes for the minimalist click and drone, another cuts up standard hip hop loops with quirky but highly predictable laptop tomfoolery—it's fairly workmanlike. And while not everything on the disc is a waste (in fact, a lot of the tunes are quite well-put-together,) the whole thing feels like an excursion into the very well traveled. It's like going on an exotic vacation to the mall: you can pretend to be curious and interested in the cultural zoo, but it's really just a bunch of people buying crap and it's about as lame as imaginable. If nothing else, Teeth makes a good case for these (mostly Scandinavian) artists to break out and do their own thing. This same group of artists working with an assignment like "make electronic music from the theme of Bluegrass" would probably be at least worth checking out just to see the culture clash. There's a lot to like about Teeth in a superficial "these are nice beats" kind of way, but it has about as deep an understanding of hip hop culture as a DJ scratching in a soda commercial.
Naked Intruder makes game music with a demonic Nintendo Entertainment System.
Mile 329 The newest release from micro-indie label Mile 329 is a fun slab of nostalgic oddity that anyone who's spent time furiously tapping A and B buttons is sure to enjoy. This is the first I've heard from Naked Intruder, and The Last Vestige is his love letter to the musical engine inside the classic 8-Bit Nintendo Entertainment System. Composed from a Frankensteined NES-turned-synthesizer that I won't even try to understand or describe, the EP's central conceit is that the NES is its ONLY sound source: no effects or processing were used to gussie it up. This adherence to an arbitrary albeit admirable formality gives the record its charm while also hamstringing it as a novelty. The limitations of the sound capabilities of the NES' native sound processor mean that while the compositions are more interesting than a lot of standard game music, they nevertheless can't sound like anything BUT game music with overly-loud lead melodies and a sometimes grating dynamic range. Naked Intruder and Mile 329 wouldn't have it any other way though, and for that, the record scores major points for the fun little curio that it is, and not stacked against what it 'could' or 'should' be. The music itself is rich in melody and plays darkly against game music's usual palette of silly, chirpy sing-songiness. It's hard not to smile when each track uses the exact sounds I've heard thousands of times while blasting aliens with a flamethrower, but uses them in a new and purely musical way. There's a surprising amount of bass in the tracks, and the rhythms while stiff are about as funky as one can probably coax out of the Nintendo's sound chip. To cap it all off, the 3" CDR is housed in a classic Nintendo game cartridge that's been gutted and slapped with a Naked Intruder label. Even if it's the kind of thing I only listen to a handful of times, the NES cartridge with Naked Intruder on the spine will be a great conversation piece for my CD collection for years, and for $6, I can't ask for anything more.
DJ/Rupture puts on a master class on how to synthesize influences into something completely new.
Tigerbeat6 Picture this: you're taking an ethnomusicology class as an elective and it turns out that the professor is not only the campus' most highly touted party DJ, but he's also the advisor for the student activist group and the organizer of a weekly poetry slam. All this wrapped into one person would seem too good to be true if I hadn't spent the last couple weeks trying to dissect the different personalities of the man known as DJ/Rupture as laid out in his newest LP, Special Gunpowder. I'm still wondering how he pulls it all together. The truth is that DJ/Rupture's putting on a master class with this record in how to synthesize influences without either ripping them off or pandering to an audience who wants the flavor but not the substance. With a gaggle of guests helping out on everything from drum beats to sung and spoken vocals to programming, Special Gunpowder finds DJ/Rupture trading in his role as DJ for that of bandleader, in a sense. While this record under his own name is far more disparate in its attentions than recent work from Rupture's band-proper, Nettle, it does work as a perfect go-between for a talented DJ/Producer who is used to mashing things up and dropping the science in equal doses. While the production is a bit uneven from track to track (due in part to the many guest musicians and their input, no doubt) the whole thing is held together by a sincere love of rhythms and melodies, no matter their origin. And if those beats and words can be used in service of some sort of socially-conscious message, even better! Some will undoubtedly find the skipping back and forth from genre and culture and language to be a slight distraction, but anyone familiar with Rupture's DJ mixes should be able to keep up and will appreciate the album's raucous dancehall and rap alongside its playful tropicalia and folk songs. As always, DJ/Rupture remains one to watch, and Special Gunpowder is his most accomplished and mature work to date, leaving me only to wonder what he's got left for the next record.
A voice as beautiful, intense and unsettling as Antony's was bound toinspire an equally weird and devoted cult fan base. In the six yearssince the release of his debut album on Durtro, the legions of Antonydevotees have gradually increased, thanks to countless residencies andmonthly performances at NYC art venues such as Joe's Pub and KnittingFactory, expanding to include the patronage of Lou Reed and LaurieAnderson.Secretly Canadian Antony's album was reissued on Secretly Canadian last year,Devendra Banhart included "The Lake" on his epochal, scene-defining Golden Apples of the Suncompilation, and Antony appeared in a couple of high-profile guestappearances on albums by Lou Reed and Rufus Wainwright. It seems thatthe androgynous singer-songwriter is poised on the edge of abreakthrough success, making the long-overdue release of his secondfull-length album a timely event, to say the least. I must admit hereto being a full-fledged member of Antony's cult, having flown to NYCseveral times to witness his live performances (after being tippedabout the debut album on The Brain so many years ago). Because of myunhealthy Antony obsession, my hopes for his sophomore album wereperhaps too high, and it took a few spins of I Am a Bird Now touncover its many treasures. It's a much more pop-oriented album thanthe first, with a decidedly less somber outlook. Gone are the myriadesoteric lyrical allusions to Biblical apocalypse and the transcendentqualities of pain and sorrow. In their place, Antony's centralpreoccupation seems to be physical and spiritual transformation, bothin literal terms (androgyny, transvestism, transsexuality) as well asfiguratively (man into bird, the transmigration of the soul). The albumworks as the conceptual twin sister to Lou Reed's 1972 Transformer,and may indeed eventually prove to be as classic and influential. Onthe whole, the music is very much more upbeat than the funereal jazz ofthe first album, with bright arrangements of piano, horns and strings.Several tracks take advantage of extraordinarily well-executed vocalmultitracking, most notably on the opener "Hope There's Someone," inwhich Antony's falsetto chorus is multiplied and harmonized tospine-tingling effect, leading into the song's lush crescendo,featuring an angelic choir of Antonys in a resounding lamentation thatreaches into the heavens. "Man is the Baby" has been a live favoritefor years now, a haunting, fragile plea for tolerance that is easilyone of the most memorable tracks on the album. Then, of course, thereare the much-vaunted duets and guest appearances. "You Are My Sister,"which features an unexpected vocal by Boy George, sounds like thereuniting of artistic brethren, protege and mentor. Other pairingsdon't fare quite as well: the track featuring Rufus Wainwright is fartoo short, and feels more like an outtake from Rufus' Want Twoalbum than an Antony song; Devendra's warbling on "Spiralling" isprecious, but incongruous with the rest of the song. These are minorquibbles, as the majority of the songs on I Am a Bird Now havethe feel of a classic song suite, and are the perfect entree' forAntony to achieve a wider audience. The album is incredibly short atonly 35 minutes, making me suspect that this is somewhat of atransitional effort. Next time out, I'm hoping that Antony will includesome of the great cover songs that he invariably performs in his liveshows - Nina Simone's "Be My Husband" or Billie Holiday's "StrangeFruit," to name a couple. Antony's singularly evocative interpretationsof those classic vocal jazz songs, as well as his originalcompositions, leave no doubt whatever that he is a uniquely talentedvocalist, and one of the most compelling artists of our time.
Their debut album, Dap-Dippin' with Sharon Jones and the Dap Kingsturned a lot of heads toward to the rebirth of fiery raw soul/funkmovements coming out of New York, and rightfully so. The retro soulfeel permeated everything from the raw production to the artwork; theband was smokin'; and Jones' voice was raw, forceful, andunwavering—but the problem almost anybody faces when they've found abrilliant formula that works is where to go without making the samerecord again. Surprisingly enough, Sharon Jones didn't know much of theband when the first recording sessions took place.Daptone While things soundedgreat, it's tricky to put a lot of skilled musicians who don't quiteknow each other inside and out in the same room and hope for somethingmagical: results often border on performing arts music schoolsterility. Luckily Jones and the Dap Kings didn't head down that route,and after touring like mad for the years following the debut, it'sclear that the synergy between Jones and the Dap Kings has grownunbelievably strong. Naturally cuts a straight line into theheart of soul, with a variety and finesse miles beyond the debut.Jones' presence is much stronger and the bonds between her and the bandare much tighter here. While the record opens up with a verymathematically-driven off-beat funk-band jam "How Do You Let a Good ManDown?," it's by the second song, "Natural Born Lover" where all theelements collide perfectly: this is the stuff vocal soul masterpiecedreams are made of. The hooks on tunes like "Natural Born Lover" and"How Long Do I Have to Wait for You?" are powerful enough to block outeverything else going on while listening and Jones' voice and words areinfectious enough to beg for repeated plays for singalongs. Other takesat different styles include the perfect slow dance prom theme "You'reGonna Get It," the cute interplay with guest vocalist Lee Fields on"Stranded In Your Love," and the down and dirty James Brown's funkypeople-style "Your Thing is a Drag." With Naturally, not onlyis Sharon Jones is becoming a powerful band leader and front woman, butthe movement for more raw, gut-wrenching, uncanned unprocessed soul canonly get stronger.
With last year's limited concert EPs on Jnana Records and this year's How He Loved the Moon,Current 93 makes the first tentative steps outside the World SerpentDistribution umbrella that Durtro has labored under for so many years. Moon is a double LP containing nearly 80 minutes of music, a reissue and expansion of last year's Anomalous release A Little Menstrual Night Music, containing four sidelong remixes of vintage Current 93 album In Menstrual Nightundertaken by Steven Stapleton, originally commissioned as openingmusic for a pair of Current 93 shows in San Francisco.Beta-Lactam Ring Though conceivedand recorded well before the tragic events of last November, inretrospect the album has been dedicated in memory of the dearlydeparted friend and collaborator, subtitled Moonsongs for Jhonn Balance.Beta-Lactam Ring have outdone themselves with this release, a deluxedouble-gatefold package with colorized versions of the original sleeveart from the 1986 Mentrual LP (never noticed that giant purplephallus), as well as a beautiful bonus silkscreened picture 7"containing edited versions of the original two mixes, included withinitial pressings of the album. The glossy, colorful sleeves set a newstandard for Beta-Lactam releases, and the heavy, substantial vinylshould satisfy any serious collector. Here's hoping for more deluxeeditions of hard-to-find Current 93 back catalog material given thistreatment. The music on How He Loved the Moon is a tangentialreturn to an earlier Current 93, when the name stood primarily forlong-form, dark ambient noisescapes; multilayered cacophonies composedof dusty drones and spooky tapes loops of rattling chains anddisembodied whispers. Each sidelong track is named after a chapter andverse of the Bible. "Ecclesiastes XII:2" ("While the sun or the moon orthe stars be not darkened") mixes the source material into a series ofsubterranean, reverberating arterial tunnels in which all of theoriginal elements become nebulous and subliminal. On the flip side,"The Song of Solomon VI:10" ("Who is she, fair as the moon, clear asthe sun, and terrible as an army with banners") transforms the materialinto a slowly percolating dubby rhythmscape, with submerged samplesbubbling to the surface and a persistent megaphone voice intoningtantalizingly inaudible imperatives. "Psalm VIII:3" ("When I considerthe heavens, the moon and the stars which you have put in place") isthe most haunting, with voices obscured behind layers of murky silence,each muffled reverberation reduced to metallic alien syllables divorcedfrom all linguistic sense. For those who have steered clear of Current93 for all these years because of the increasing emphasis on DavidTibet's spoken-word poetic cycles, How He Loved the Moonrepresents a satisfying return to the early, atmospheric C93 thatreally just wanted to scare the hell out of you. For others, this albumwill seem like yet another superfluous stopgap on the path to thebrand-new studio album, due later this year. For myself, I quiteenjoyed this atavistic salute to lunar concerns, and could practicallyimbibe the exudations of magickally charged menstruum, reinvigoratingme with adumbrations of the hidden nightside aeon.
The newest release from micro-indie label Mile 329 is a fun slab ofnostalgic oddity that anyone who's spent time furiously tapping A and Bbuttons is sure to enjoy. This is the first I've heard from NakedIntruder, and The Last Vestigeis his love letter to the musical engine inside the classic 8-BitNintendo Entertainment System.