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!
Standing as a fill-in for the unfortunately absent Edward Ka-Spel asPiehead's 11th release this year, Qwerty more than manages to keep theseries interesting as it draws to a close. Qwerty is a solo Croatianelectronic artist who is working in the well-traveled but stillenjoyable paths cut by Warp Records trailblazers and theircontemporaries nearly a decade ago.This record is actually a collection of Qwerty tracks originallyrecorded between 1996 and 1999 and every minute of it sounds like aproduct of those days long gone now, before fast access internetservice and companies with bandwith to burn hosted hundreds uponthousands of tunes created in bedrooms and basements as a reaction toeager youngsters hearing early Autechre records for the first time. Soif the record sounds a little dated it's mostly due to the incoherentpace at which trends in electronic music change, and the breakneckspeed at which whole new sonic paradigms are adopted as 'the next bigthing.' Frankly, I've always loathed the new-chasing quality of a lotof contemporary electronica, so it's fun to take a dip back in time afew years and add these tracks by Qwerty to my playlist of late 90'sinteresting electro experimentation. The sounds and melodies here areall a tweaked reflection of synth and sample-based techno, but runthrough a cut up filter or distortion plug in or other bit-manglingdevice to give them a slightly worn and abused character. "Aardvark" inparticular uses static bursts and a wobbly thump for its rhythm trackwhile minor key, melancholic chords wash around in the background. "IlCuore" seems based on broken game sounds at first until it sputtersinto jagged, squelchy electro with a smooth tine melody. It's not musicthat's going to set the laptop world on fire, but it's a fun and variedmix from an artist very few people will have ever heard from before.That's the beauty of the Piehead series, and one of the greatestlaments I have about the series project coming to a close with the 2004edition. I've recommended time and again to people that they check outwhat Piehead is doing. It's a great treat to get a disc in the mailonce a month, like a featured wine or desert of the month. I've neverknown what to expect each time, and there have been more than a fewreally great surprises. The monthly series is closing shop, but Pieheadpromises to continue on with less frequent output in the future. I'mhoping they keep digging up stuff like Qwerty that has something tooffer the world, if given the right attention and care. samples:
With Piehead's 10th installment this year, the label offers up apleasant slice of lo-fi electro in the form of the Nippon-o-centricalbum from Robokoneko (or Robot Cat for the gaijin.) The record beginswith a sample from 2010wherein the professor and the machine are wondering if computers dream.From that simple sample, the rest of the agenda for Robokoneko is laidout.The record is comprised of four tracks of melodic, blippy electrothat tends to worship at the altar of artificial intelligence andsci-fi references, and four remixes that take other Robokoneko tracksin different, but not too-different directions. There's a loveble lackof fidelity in the recording, where tape hiss is better disregarded andsample noise isn't smoothly eased into but rather accepted as aby-product of the approach of cut and paste. "Nevermore" is builtaround a simple electric piano melody and reprogrammed breaks while"Karataka" plays with game sounds and could be the soundtrack to a SegaGenesis cut screen in another life. The remixes all keep what must beRobokoneko's sense of melody in tact (to be honest, I haven't heard anyof the original songs and they aren't included here), and they all pickup on the gamey, glitchy mode from "Karataka" and weave that in and outof everything from straight-forward electro to minimalist cut-ups. Ifanything, the remixers seem to take the Robokoneko material moreseriously than the artist herself, and while they sound like they couldco-exist more freely in a world of similar sounding tracks, I preferthe original tunes here for their willingness not to care. This is thekind of record that winds up essentially genreless because it breaksthe stoic rules of DJs and world-renowned producers who like theirelectronic beats clean and well-polished, or at least dirty in amanufactured way. This is dirty, scrappy, fun electronica that workswell in a world of anime-fetish and casio love. It never stoops tobeing a novelty, and for that I admire it. samples:
I have to wonder what the trio of Darren Tate, Colin Potter, and PaulBradley has in mind when they record a set such as this one. Perhapsthey have in mind the construction of psychic hammer dedicated to theeradication of the sensual world or perhaps they simply mean to open upa space where it seems that no such space could possibly fit or exist. Landscapes has the strange quality of being both musical and completely self-indulgent."Entering" is a thirty minute circle of guitar, heavy moaning, andmonumental volume and "Surface Form" is a chugging and throbbing chunkof absolute isolation. If I'd never heard anything by any of thesemusicians, I'd find it very difficult to sit through this entire albumfrom beginning to end. Aside from the guitar on "Entering" there isabsolutely no reference point that might serve as a familiar anchor;the density of every second of sound on Landscapes is imposingand undeniably rewarding, but I'd start somewhere else if I wereinterested in anything by Tate, Potter, or Bradley. Once I got overjust how thick and sludgy the album is, the tiny nuances and nearsubliminal sounds that are littered everywhere on this record revealthemselves and demand that the record be listened to again and again.Whispering collisions and intricate networks of sonic tunnels rumbleunderneath the imposing rumble of organs bellowing sheer intensity. Attimes the tone is so low that the music is manifested on physically asa material vibration: at this point active listening becomes important.While many records of this type might serenade me into believing itsokay to relax my senses and listen passively, Monos demand a carefuland direct attention. There is literally an entirely different albummoving beneath the pure, direct, and constant hum of machine-generatedgroans and waves. Darren Tate's artwork is the perfect visual exampleof what the music sounds like: the bumpy and burned fibers of the coverart suggest a layering of tones, thoughts, and feelings. I wasreluctant to listen to Landscapes at times because, on thesurface, it feels like such a desolate and uniform recording; repeatlistens have revealed it to be so. This is a desert of sound on thesurface, but the record grants the chance to see below the surface andinto the heart of appearances themselves. samples:
Wax Trax! completists may remember A Way Of Lifewith a certain amount of distaste. Unaware, uninformed consumersexpecting the reformed duo to adopt the sound of labelmates Front 242,Meat Beat Manifesto, or Greater Than One were surely aghast at thealbum's overt, unabashed reverence for Elvis Presley and early rock androll. Though it failed to fit comfortably amongst that wave ofindustrial music, the album exudes a similar emotive quality to that oftheir second album, due to Ocasek's return to the boards and the band'sdesire to record more of a "live" album. The music, credited entirelyto Rev, ranges from the hard driving "Rain Of Ruin" to the gorgeous"Surrender." Vega's desperate gasps and poetic yelps on "DominicChrist" and the incredibly ominous "Heat Beat" recall those of his peerGenesis P-Orridge at his best and most energetic. Patience didunfortunately wear thin for this Suicide devotee on the painfully datedelectro-rockabilly "Jukebox Baby 96," a reasonably popular and updatedversion of Vega's 1980 French Top Ten solo hit.
samples:
Compared to the eclectic flavors of A Way Of Life, Why Be Blueabandons a good deal of the noise and moves in a more accessibledirection. However, a poppy version of Suicide is, in and of itself,far more disturbing . The album, again produced by Ocasek, consistsprimarily of upbeat and danceable tracks including "Cheat Cheat" andthe New Order-esque "Play The Dream." The title track opens the CD withVega's near-gibberish lyrics and a typically repetitive Rev production,wasting little time to show this newfound optimism. "Flashy Love" isthe clear standout track, with Rev toning down his effects a bit toallow both his melodies and Vega's catchy verse-chorus-verse vocals toshine through. On "Last Time," one of the few slower songs here, Rev'swarbling synths and phasing drums attempt to drown Vega's voice in thissonic sea. Truth be told, the panning and delay makes this song, aswell as the rest of the album difficult to enjoy in headphones. Leaveit to Suicide to make what could have been a pleasant pop album into achallenging, yet still rewarding listen.
samples:
As with the previous Suicide reissues, each album comes with a bonussecond disc featuring European concerts from the latter half of the1980s. The live discs present the band in two distinct settings: onedifficult and confrontational (London, 13 December 1987), the othermore welcoming (Paris, 17 April 1989). In London, apparently before arather small audience, the duo previewed tracks from thethen-unreleased A Way Of Life, including "Dominic Christ,""Jukebox Baby '96," and "Surrender." The band's frustration is clear,with Vega growling his way through Rev's gritty versions of "Cheree"and "Girl," closing with the classic "Harlem." Roughly a year and ahalf later, they are met with an eager audience in Paris, who aresubsequently rewarded with a set packed with tracks never recorded inthe studio such as the opener "C'Est Lie Vie", the very groovy "MamboMambo," and "Night Time." The classic "Dream Baby Dream" comes intowards the end, sounding even more somber than the original recordednearly ten years earlier. While the recordings of these performancesnaturally reminded me of the powerful experience I had this summer,neither of them matched it. In any case, these four discs are a greataudio document of a band in limbo, stuck in that uncomfortable spacebetween the Seventies smashed bottles and furious punk assholes and thesuperior cult status they enjoy today worldwide. Many would have givenup where Suicide have managed to endure, and for that they have earnedthemselves the bragging rights. Anybody with any respect for modernmusic whatsoever should waste no time in seeking these two double discsets out. -
Perhaps not surprisingly considering Czukay and Schmidt helmed thesereissues, the elements that seem most obviously emboldened by the newdigital mastering are the bass and keyboards. Because the originalalbums were all made from carefully edited and assembled two andfour-track recordings, it would have been impossible for a particularinstrument to be isolated and expanded in the mix. Nevertheless, I amcertain that I detect a bigger presence of bass across all four discs,and Schmidt's architectural swathes of organ have never sounded fulleror more atmospheric. The hiss that was often detectable on previous CDissues has been almost completely eradicated. Often when hiss isremoved from old recordings it can wreak havoc with the treble tonesand bottom end, smoothing every sharp edge away into soft-edged,nebulous blandness. However, an extremely careful job has been done toremove hiss without disadvantaging the original mix. The volume hasalso been increased considerably across all four albums. Louder is notnecessarily always better, but in this case, it means an increasedpresence and a greater sense of acoustic vastness, with no discernabledistortion. The hiss removal and volume increase contribute a terrificlive feeling to this material, dragging it out of a dusty, formaldehydepast into a seething, organic present, loaded with previously inaudiblesonic detail. Jaki Liebezeit also benefits from the remastering, witheach robotic, hypnotic pummeling of his primitive drumming burstingwith an even more earth-shattering urgency than before. Only the lateMichael Karoli seems relatively unchanged by the new digitalprocessing, his uniquely spindly, spidery guitar still shredding andpiercing its way through the mix.
Though I've never heard anyone claim it's their favorite Can album, the pre-Damo Suzuki debut Monster Movieis nonetheless a force to be reckoned with. This is primarily becauseof the sidelong behemoth of "Yoo Doo Right," on which American vocalistMalcolm Mooney obsessively scrapes up the remnants of a brokenrelationship while the band unleashes a stoned, hypnotic groove thatsets a new record for transcendent monotony. The remastering jobbreathes new life into the song, highlighting a sense of presence andcohesion that previous editions have lacked. Though I know it's aterrible cliché, it sounds almost as if the band is in the room withme, and I could practically feel the flecks of spittle flying out ofMooney's mouth with every anguished repetition of his lyrical refrain. Monster Movie and its follow-up Soundtracksseem to be the most improved of the four reissues, perhaps because ofthe comparatively poor quality of the original recordings.
samples:
Soundtrackswas a collection of music Can recorded for fivelong-forgotten films, with the main attraction being the 15-minute"Mother Sky," containing the first example of Damo Suzuki's stunningvocal technique. The track sounds cleaner and crisper than ever before,with each strike of the kettle drum sounding absolutely monolithic, andCzukay's bass tracing its own melodic path through the song.
samples:
The massive double LP Tago Magois my favorite album of all time, hands down, making objective analysisall but impossible. I've become quite accustomed, over the years, tothe sound of the previous Mute/Spoon CD issue, so I did not easilywelcome the changes apparent on the new remaster. After just a fewspins of this version, however, I was completely won over. Whether inthe thick, rich detail of Schmidt's cosmic keyboards on "Paperhouse" orthe warm, dimensional presence of the transcendent "Oh Yeah," this Tago Magohas much to recommend it over all previous incarnations. Quiet,simmering tracks like the dark, ritualized experimentation of "Aumgn"or the album's hazy comedown "Bring Me Coffee or Tea" benefittremendously, as new ghostly details become evident at all audiblelevels, making these pieces seem even more ingeniously conceived thanbefore.
samples:
The differences are least obvious on Ege Bamyasi,although the volume increase and fidelity boost make tracks like theclassic "Spoon" sound razor sharp, living in the perpetual present,instead of some shaggy Krautrock past. I welcome any chance torediscover and experience anew the unparalleled genius of Can, butthese reissues are truly a cause for celebration. They literallybreathe new life into music that has become such a legendary,influential, intellectually scrutinized body of work that one mighthave assumed that it had no more surprises to offer. While I'm notconvinced by the new packaging or the rather doctrinaire liner notes,the improved sound of these discs more than makes up for thoseshortcomings. People who own the original LPs or the previousMute/Spoon reissues would be most enthusiastically encouraged to seekout these remastered editions, and for those who still don't own theseCan albums, you have no excuse not to run out and buy theseimmediately. They would also make a swell, reasonably priced Christmasgift for that very special music junkie in your life who might not haveeven heard them yet!
samples:
Greg Davis has illuminated the link between sound and light. Perhaps,when the universe was first unfolding, the explosions sounded like buzzsaws or pure white noise, but when the heavens came to be and from itsconvulsions the universe produced stars and angels, the sound generatedmust've been close to the music on Somnia.I hesitate to lump this record in with any group of individualscurrently practicing the Zen of protracted sound because Davis' musicflutters and ripples with hints of melody and harmony more so thanfound sounds or textured moments. This must be related to Davis'recording process: take one instrument per track, fool around with it,and then process the sounds produced by that instrument until there islittle or no resemblance between what comes out and what went in. Whileprocessing and editing has become a typical means of producingmeditative and molasses-like sounds, Davis manages to create somethingunique. The vibrations of these songs feel as though they are a slowcondensing, a trace of some event happening beyond our perception,beyond possible memory or direct experience. What is left, tracks like"Clouds as Edges (version 3 edit)" and "Campestral (version 2)," echo asentiment of impossibility: I want to reach through the process andback to the original sound. A sense of wonder and mystery is nearlyalways present when I hear a good drone record and Davis has addedemotional dimensions that work on a few levels. "Furnace" sweeps andrises with an incessant yearning that nearly erupts from between theseams of the accordion-like buzz that dominates the composition."Mirages (version 2)" is the most attention-grabbing track on thealbum, whispering and ringing softly as though it were a recording ofwind-chimes on an island not touched by any human individual. Thecascade of ideas and associations that swim and die within the soundsthemselves is infinite—the album takes on a life of its own and extendsthrough space like a slowly rattling thread, each moment evoking adifferent sense, and different thought, and a different sentiment. Tothe extent that this is a musical record, Davis shapes subtle andnearly fragile pieces teeming with beauty. To the extent that this is ameans of looking past the distinctions between energy, material, time,and light, Davis, perhaps unknowingly, provides medium capable ofshining a light on the existence that is beyond experience and tangiblesensation. - 
It is unfortunate for Matt Waldron (Irr.App.[Ext.]) that his reworking of the Angry Eelectric Finger raw material was alotted Volume Three status, as he has used many of the same sounds as Jim O'Rourke used in his Volume One. Although both albums are excellent listens, perhaps owing to the strength of the source material, both artists have done little alteration and their volumes sound a bit too similar at times.It is unclear whether or not they heard each other's works in progress, although I imagine that they did not. Waldron has started his "Part One" with the same ratchet sound and creepy drones that are a main feature of both the Raw Material LP and O'Rourke's volume. However, this version quickly gives way to a more chaotic and surreal environment, with chugging motor patterns ping-ponging around the stereo field. "Part Two" again treads similar ground to the O'Rourke version, in which both artists have included a large, unaltered section featuring interplay between saxophone, flute, and hand drums. Waldron has placed this section closer to the end of the piece, while O'Rourke introduced it near the beginning of "Part Two." Here Waldron's structure mirrors that of the Raw Material LP almost exactly. The first half of Mute Bell Extinction Process's "Part Two" is taken up by swirling psychedelic electronics, much as side two of Stapleton and Potter's raw material LP is. Perhaps Waldron's well-documented reverence for Nurse With Wound got in the way of his being more adventurous, or perhaps he felt that the source material was so strong that he didn't want to do more than give it a slight twist. This is, after all, the same man who released a CD of a version of Nurse With Wound's debut album, Chance Meeting on a Dissecting Table of a Sewing Machine and an Umbrella which he accidentally "remixed" by simply making a tape-to-tape copy of said album on defective tape machines. samples:
While O'Rourke presented an LP very much in a Nurse With Wound style,Cyclobe have obliterated most traces of Stapleton and Potter's rawmaterial and instead produced a freak out of frayed electronics thatsounds much closer to the work of their former colleagues in Coil.Although their "Part One" begins with sparse drones and eerie ambience,the stereo field soon becomes a battleground on which sharp bursts fromanalog synths whirr back and forth.Passages of extreme noise are balanced by menacing quiet sectionssuch as the last several minutes of "Part One." Some of the soundsappearing early on are so jagged and startling that these calmersections produce the same effect as the scenes in horror films in whichan intruder is waiting quietly behind a corner. It is no coincidencethat Cyclobe's Stephen Thrower was an integral member of Coil duringthe time they produced music for Hellraiser (referred to insome places as "too scary to be used in the film"). This album isinteresting for the insight it may provide into the working methods ofThrower and Ossian Brown as Cyclobe. By not directly referencing thesource material they may give us clues as to how they construct theirown music. Perhaps they always tend towards manipulating sourcematerial beyond recognition. The creaking ratchet sound that seems tobe the project's signature motif is audible here, as are the flute andsaxophone played by Xhol. However, they are merely hinted at underneathdense layers of sonic debris, and are only heard briefly. Cyclobe havetreated the source material as a starting point for producing acompelling new work that pays tribute to Nurse With Wound as much as itcements their reputation as being superb producers in their own right,regardless of their Coil associations. 
O'Rourke's version of Nurse With Wound's source material keeps veryclose to the spirit of a Nurse With Wound album. This is partly due tothe common reference points both artists share, but partly because itseems that he has used much of the raw material provided by Stapletonand Potter without changing it at all. Nurse With Wound and O'Rourkeare two of the few artists who can sustain interest while essentiallypresenting an entire LP side of creaking sounds set against doom ladenambient soundscapes.By gradually shifting the sound and by placing small gestures suchas the sounds of bells among the existing soundscapes O'Rourke hascreated a sense of tension in his "Part One." By the time a noisycrescendo occurs toward the end of this build-up it feels like a truerelease. He clearly shares Stapleton and Potter's sense of letting amood develop slowly, and the piece is stronger because so much is heldback for most of the piece. "Part Two" has a completely different feelwith the introduction of strings and has a more composed feel. It ishere that O'Rourke seems to have done the most work to shape the piece.This section recalls his early work with tape music and also referencesthe musique concrete that both he and Stapleton admire. As on the rawmaterial LP, this section is much more chaotic, with all manner ofsharp electronic sounds bouncing from left to right in the stereofield. O'Rourke introduces the section of saxophone, flute and handdrums played by members of Xhol Caravan earlier than it appers on theRaw Material LP. However, he hasn't done much to alter this materialeither. Since O'Rourke has a background as an accomplished composer,producer and musician, it is baffling why he hasn't made this albumsound more like the product of his own imagination.samples:
