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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With this year's eigth Piehead release the Oregon-based ml have curiously decided to crank out a full-length homage to the music of spooky film director and composer, John Carpenter. Many may not know that Carpenter often likes to write the music for his films, giving campy classics like Big Trouble in Little China and Dark Star their appropriately stiff and synth-heavy backing. ml, on the other hand, are more known for their tricked out beats and goofy sense of humor that place them firmly in the west coast new electronic psuedo-dance family these days, so while it's not what I expected from the former Thine Eyes guys, it's not hard to imagine either. I'm not sure how noble it is to crib someone else's style so deliberately that it becomes a tribute, but somehow Man Is The Warmest Place To Hide manages to be both fun and faithful to the source without ever sounding cheap. Well, it's no cheaper than a John Carpenter score so it seems to be working on that level. The music is all a series of simple themes with a filmic overtone that makes them moody but not overly complicated. While the sounds don't come from a Carpenter film, it's easy to see them working with one. Most of the timbres are lifted straight from vintage synths (or vintage synth emulators as may be the case) and the sound design is intentionally not clever or obtrusive. The few places where the guys resort to more recent sounding filters and patches actually take the songs out of that full-on Carpenter world and help bridge the gap between goofy experiment and music that's actually enjoyable on its own. Ml have never established a firm style to my ears over the years. They tend to blend in with other acts from the Pacific northwest who trade in quirky, laptop-fueled post-industrial beat making and so it's a little ballsy for them to put something like this out that gives most of the stylistic cues up to unseen source material. I'd like to see more people try this sort of thing, if only to see what talented musicians can do with an artificial but well-understood set of limitations. The obvious question is: is the record worth listening to outside of the context of the John Carpenter angle, and I'm not sure about that. I suppose the answer lies in how much you like John Carpenter's music. It definitely feels a little cheesy if you take away the idea that it's an homage, but if you know going in what it's all about, it's quite a fun thing to spin. As it stands though, this is my favorite batch of ml songs to date, and I'm not sure what that means for the rest of their discography. What it means for now is that Piehead scores again with another release we're not likely to have seen without this special series, which is pretty awesome. 
I can't shake the feeling that Shirts and Pistols is Hardman's version of "Shits and Giggles," as this album plays like a collection of oddball in-jokes and quirky jams thrown together for fun. Toying with pop song melodies and structures, Hardman wrangle up convincing electro-pop tunes that owe less to the punk ethos of electroclash than to psychadelia and surrealist non-sequiturs. Songs about superheroes share the disc with tracks that juxtapose the various meanings of "Hardman" using porn and preacher samples with equal gusto. When they want to, as on "100 Years," the duo can craft hypnotic, organic electro-trip pieces that hum with strings and reverb and repeating vocal phrases that drift out of consciousness. On the other hand, tracks like "18's Fabric" touch on a kind of groovy, digitally-enhanced folk that's full of free verse poetry, acoustic guitars and vibes. Whether they are playing with bluesy tones, straight up electronic pop, or something a little more leftfield, the songs are always tight and short, leaving the album with a bit of a compiled, schizophrenic feel. In fact, a few of the tracks just kind of stop dead, as if the experiment that spawned them was suddenly brough to a halt. This is, if ever there was one, a studio album where accomplished producers and musicians have afforded themselves the time and means to jot down whatever ideas might strike them. With that approach, there are inevitably a few tracks that could be trimmed without losing much, but nothing is so long as to overstay its welcome. It sounds a bit self-indulgent at times, and borders on being too intentionally weird, but somehow Shirts and Pistols manages to stay endearing and interesting for 17 tracks. 
I had been wondering when we'd see the first of the post-Sigur Ros releases to emerge. It's been several years since Iceland's finest wowed listeners just about everywhere and I always imagined that the result would be an avalanche of artists trying to recreate the feeling of being swept up in the epic, weepy tones of bowed guitars and reverb-drenched organs. Julian Fane, a 21-year old Canadian solo artist is the fist thing I've heard that immediately and unquestionably calls forth that otherworldy music from the north, but he does a lot more than that. The release is a bit odd for Planet µ, a label that's made its name more on dancey and not-so-dancey but still beat-centric eclectic electronic artists like Venetian Snares, Jega, Bit_Meddler and so on. Still, there is an undercurrent of strong electronics throughout Special Forces that tips Fane's hand as someone familiar enough with the glitch-beat sound of his contemporaries to know how to pique the µ-Ziq fans' interest. The beats certainly don't take center stage though, as they click and thump under waves of rich and fuzzy synth tones, manipulated acoustic instruments, and occassionally Fane's own voice. It's at this point that my opinion of the record is decidedly split. For most of the tracks, the wintery strings and crackling percussion work well and provide moments of real (and not just emulated) beauty. But when Fane steps in to sing in an unintelligible falsetto, the album tends to derail for me into a place where just sounding like other people's records turns in to trying to recreate them. The first two songs with singing are actually pleasant and well-balanced. While the high-pitched whiny vocal style so reminiscent of Thom Yorke and Jónsi Birgisson isn't my favorite, it doesn't detract from the lush soundscapes into which Fane plants his voice. However, successive songs with vocals deteriorate quickly into what sounds likea parody—this is Jimmy Fallon's impression of Hopelandic and it's funny, but it's not supposed to be. Thankfully, the vocal tracks are far-outweighed by the rest of the album's solid instrumentals. I can certainly forgive the young composer's few vocal missteps on an otherwise excellent debut on which he has created another perfect winter soundtrack for the broken-hearted. 
Delivery Room is a bargain-priced sampler of new and upcoming releases from the Leaf Label, and reflects the eclectic, modern aesthetic of label boss Tony Morley. Unfortunately, as is often the case with collections such as these, there is a fair amount of substandard material by bands the label hopes to promote, as well as songs that suffer from the lack of context inherent in a compilation.Leaf
The trio of Bill Wells, Stefan Schneider and Anne Whitehead contribute two tracks from their mini-album Pick Up Sticks. These three musicians (and the uncredited keyboardist Barbara Morgenstern) form an avant-jazz ensemble with trombonist Whitehead improvising over Wells' spacious, textured laptop-glitch backdrops. Mexican IDM artist Murcof is virtually indistinguishable from every other artist of his ilk, and Sutekh's mix adds merely another level of boring pseudo-sophistication. In my view, Icarus is one of the more overrated electronica artists currently being heralded by scads of post-hip laptop enthusiasts, and the two cuts included here from his Leaf album I Tweet the Birdy Electric (Walt Whitman puns are oh so clever) don't do anything to change my mind. I know a lot of people who would slap me for saying this, but I'm also not altogether convinced that Manitoba's Up In Flames was an amazing reinvention of the avant-pop wheel (is there an avant-pop wheel?), and the pointless song fragment "Crayon" included here is nice, but disposable. A Hawk and a Hacksaw is the new project from ex-Bablicon, Neutral Milk Hotel and Guignol member Jeremy Barnes, and the self-titled debut is another collection of songs composed and recorded in the French countryside. The two tracks included here are richly detailed, piano-led folk songs with gloriously uncomplicated melodies and a natural sense of development, with interesting touches of outre' production. Perhaps the best reason to buy this compilation is the inclusion of a previously unreleased (outside of Japan) track from Asa Chang & Junray, whose Leaf album and subsequent EP were two of my favorite experimental releases of the last two years. "Parlor," taken from the Senaka EP, is a typically ingenious mix of hicupping, laptop-treated tabla rhythms, trumpets and recordings of Japanese slot machines. 310's "Exumix" is a jazzy sort of downtempo number that might appeal to fans of the Ninja Tune label, but holds zero interest for me. Colleen's "Ritournelle" tried hard to convince me that it was anything other than a looped kindergarten glockenspiel with extraneous glitches and pops, but failed. Japan's Riow Arai contribute one of those instrumental hip-hop things where they keep interrupting and/or mutating a random beat using ProTools presets, thereby producing something that is sure to be labeled genius by someone balder and more European than me. Clue to Kalo sound even more dreadfully dull on "Ignore the Forest Floor" than they did on their first full-length; more Four Tet beats with emo vocals. Ending the collection is a fascinating unreleased track by A Small Good Thing, a tantalizingly indescribably work of evocative cinematic ambience, sounding not unlike a spaghetti western taking place at night in a German POW camp.
The melodies might be vibrant and the arrangements lush, but nothingcan fix the feeling that there's a lot of counterfeit sentiment beingtossed around this album. I'd like to say I felt something whilelistening to this record, but the vocal delivery and the sappy,over-romantic instrumentation simply sounded too much like a bad radiodrama to be interesting. Fakeopens up with the seven minute creeper, "Born." The vocalist soundslike he is trying hard to say something that is emotionally drainingand utterly important, but he comes across sounding like a 10 year oldboy convinced that he's in love. Speaking of 10 year old boys, thelyrics sound as though they're meant to convey all sorts of meanings(it's the delivery of the singer that makes them sound so important)but I'm not sure I understand what he's singing about on "Born." I'mnot sure I know what's going on in any of these ten songs to tell thetruth. Blow Up Hollywood are obviously reaching for some lofty conceptthat will lift them up above other bands and into the realms of"important" and "socially conscious;" one look at their website and itseems like they've got this grand Zen-influenced statement to make.This teenager-symptom (self-importance?) ruins what talent the bandhas. That self-importance isn't just in the singer's head, though,otherwise I might have been able to enjoy the album for its music. Themusic sounds like a half-assed attempt at mixing the grandeur oforchestral music with the glossy sheen of popular rock n' roll radio.There's absolutely no grit anywhere on the record, that's what makes it sound so damned self-important and phony.There's absolutely no sign of anger, no sign of confusion, or any hintthat maybe pain could take part in these sappy meanderings. That slickand prosthetic production accounts for 90% of what's wrong with themusic. There might be room for this somewhere in a bad movie where theboy finds the girl and they fall in love all over again despite thefact that, while she was away, he was busy with about 10 other girls.Right, suddenly jackass is in love and everything's going to be okayand in the end there's going to be a white picket fence, little cryingbastards everywhere, and a dog attacking the mailman in the front yard.Forgive me for being so angry, but when a mediocre album entitled Fakecrosses my path and then tries to play itself off as ananti-establishment or somehow spiritually fulfilling record thateschews all pretense, I tend towards a complete lack of faith in thehonestly rebellious spirit and begin to think that maybe the last 10years of federally sponsored media mergers has completely killed anyreal chance of music inspiring righteous indignation and civildisobedience ever again.- 
I had been wondering when we'd see the first of the post-Sigur Rosreleases to emerge. It's been several years since Iceland's finestwowed listeners just about everywhere and I always imagined that theresult would be an avalanche of artists trying to recreate the feelingof being swept up in the epic, weepy tones of bowed guitars andreverb-drenched organs. Julian Fane, a 21-year old Canadian solo artistis the fist thing I've heard that immediately and unquestionably callsforth that otherworldy music from the north, but he does a lot morethan that. The release is a bit odd for Planet µ, a label that's madeits name more on dancey and not-so-dancey but still beat-centriceclectic electronic artists like Venetian Snares, Jega, Bit_Meddler andso on. Still, there is an undercurrent of strong electronics throughoutSpecial Forcesthat tips Fane's hand as someone familiar enough with the glitch-beatsound of his contemporaries to know how to pique the µ-Ziq fans'interest. The beats certainly don't take center stage though, as theyclick and thump under waves of rich and fuzzy synth tones, manipulatedacoustic instruments, and occassionally Fane's own voice. It's at thispoint that my opinion of the record is decidedly split. For most of thetracks, the wintery strings and crackling percussion work well andprovide moments of real (and not just emulated) beauty. But when Fanesteps in to sing in an unintelligible falsetto, the album tends toderail for me into a place where just sounding like other people'srecords turns in to trying to recreate them. The first two songs withsinging are actually pleasant and well-balanced. While the high-pitchedwhiny vocal style so reminiscent of Thom Yorke and Jónsi Birgissonisn't my favorite, it doesn't detract from the lush soundscapes intowhich Fane plants his voice. However, successive songs with vocalsdeteriorate quickly into what sounds likea parody—this is JimmyFallon's impression of Hopelandic and it's funny, but it's not supposedto be. Thankfully, the vocal tracks are far-outweighed by the rest ofthe album's solid instrumentals. I can certainly forgive the youngcomposer's few vocal missteps on an otherwise excellent debut on whichhe has created another perfect winter soundtrack for thebroken-hearted.
I had been wondering when we'd see the first of the post-Sigur Rosreleases to emerge. It's been several years since Iceland's finestwowed listeners just about everywhere and I always imagined that theresult would be an avalanche of artists trying to recreate the feelingof being swept up in the epic, weepy tones of bowed guitars andreverb-drenched organs. Julian Fane, a 21-year old Canadian solo artistis the fist thing I've heard that immediately and unquestionably callsforth that otherworldy music from the north, but he does a lot morethan that. The release is a bit odd for Planet µ, a label that's madeits name more on dancey and not-so-dancey but still beat-centriceclectic electronic artists like Venetian Snares, Jega, Bit_Meddler andso on. Still, there is an undercurrent of strong electronics throughoutSpecial Forcesthat tips Fane's hand as someone familiar enough with the glitch-beatsound of his contemporaries to know how to pique the µ-Ziq fans'interest. The beats certainly don't take center stage though, as theyclick and thump under waves of rich and fuzzy synth tones, manipulatedacoustic instruments, and occassionally Fane's own voice. It's at thispoint that my opinion of the record is decidedly split. For most of thetracks, the wintery strings and crackling percussion work well andprovide moments of real (and not just emulated) beauty. But when Fanesteps in to sing in an unintelligible falsetto, the album tends toderail for me into a place where just sounding like other people'srecords turns in to trying to recreate them. The first two songs withsinging are actually pleasant and well-balanced. While the high-pitchedwhiny vocal style so reminiscent of Thom Yorke and Jónsi Birgissonisn't my favorite, it doesn't detract from the lush soundscapes intowhich Fane plants his voice. However, successive songs with vocalsdeteriorate quickly into what sounds likea parody—this is JimmyFallon's impression of Hopelandic and it's funny, but it's not supposedto be. Thankfully, the vocal tracks are far-outweighed by the rest ofthe album's solid instrumentals. I can certainly forgive the youngcomposer's few vocal missteps on an otherwise excellent debut on whichhe has created another perfect winter soundtrack for thebroken-hearted.
Though I've heard the formula before, it's impossible to disregard this album. Despite being another quiet and minimalist approach to electronic soundscaping, there's something special about the way these songs play themselves out and, in some cases, the integration of just a few key sounds adds up to startling beauty. Lido Lato is a double CD release from Greece's Poeta Negra label.Poeta Negra
The CDs differ from each other in slight ways. The first disc is a purely sound-oriented amalgam of synthetic pops, hisses, hiccups, and blurs while the second disc sounds like it could be performed live by a group of individuals (given the right equipment). "Amymoni P." and "Shaker S." begin the first disc with a wavering blend of distorted plastic expanding into infinity and a churning series of pseudo-melodies that barely escape the speakers. They're a perfect statement of intent and while I've heard similar compositions before, Coti has a unique way of arranging the sounds so that they play with eachother in ways that are unavoidably hypnotic. "Beben G.," for instance, rolls along in exactly the same way from beginning to end, but Coti adds a whole spectrum of sounds over this radiating harmony and ends up producing the illusion of movement. The manner in which the crystaline pops and hums fall in and out of existence is somewhat breathtaking and repeated listens only add to its beauty. There are numerous examples of excellent aural trickery to be heard throughout the first disc. It would have, by itself, stood comfortably as a great album with many highlights, but the second disc is the most attractive thing about Lido Lato. "Neige P." is the more rhythmic cousin to disc one's "Amymoni P.;" where one moans and bellows, the other skips along in staccato before loosening up and bleeding away in a whisper of piano and reverberation. The mixing of acoustic and electronic sound sources on disc 2 is absolutely superb. "Partito Per Sempre" coughs and eases along with the sound of escalating whines and old upright pianos hooked up to life support. The instruments never stand away from their buzzing counterparts, but they add an element that would've made the first disc even more exceptional and unique. "Beben P." stands out in my mind as one of the finest and most endearing songs I've heard this year. A simple melody played on what sounds like a toy keyboard gallops along clumsily over the sound of a baby attempting to sing and playing with wooden or plastic toys. I found myself pressing the back button on this song more than a few times before moving on to the final two pieces. "P. Strtch" closes out the album with the purity of strings moving like water over a faded and delicate ringing that escapes into the atmosphere. The way the violins and cellos take over the synthesizers and laptop productions is as elegant as can be and it serves as the perfect ending to an album that showcases the depths electronic music can reach. 
Greg Dulli has always been able to pull off an entertaining cover nowand then when he takes his traveling band on the road. For their latestrelease, he's decided to record a whole album of songs he didn't write,and, based upon comments on his website, some of the choices might bewholly on dares from friends. It's a refreshing collection, as Dullidoesn't stay just in one genre, or interpret the songs all in the samefashion, which makes for some real gems and a few missteps, in trueDulli tradition. The album opens with a rather mellow number in"Feeling of Gaze," a Hope Sandoval tune that could easily have beensultry with her, but Dulli makes it his melancholy own. Then it's "TooTough to Die," which he also manages to pull off despite occasionalcracks of voice, and the record starts to move into "I can't believehe's a man, and he's still killing these songs by women" territory. Thenext one is the real killer, though: "Hyperballad" is not exactly asong that would seem well-suited to his style, but with the Singersit's a proud, soaring, and glorified take on Björk's tune ofself-destruction. "Hyperballad" is also the first complaint, as themixing on the chorus is almost ruined by the distortion coming throughthe speakers. Somehow, the whole package is not ruined and the songrises above anyway. As does "What Makes You Think You're the One," eventhough Dulli's vocal sounds just a twinge off for the whole song,calling back to "Band of Gold" from the Uptown AvondaleEP. That's part of the reason to admire Dulli and his effort, though,as he doesn't seem concerned with sounding like the best rendition ofthe song ever, just sounding passable and putting out a version of thesong he likes, even though it may tweak the ears a bit. It's all worthit on something like "Real Love" — yes, the Mary J. Blige version — or"Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair," which was released on asingle all its own last year, but its inclusion makes the set completeand a little sweeter. By the time Gershwin's "Summertime" comes around,the album takes a real sharp dark turn. That's Dulli's style exactly,and though these songs may jar here and there they do make a mark. 
With this year's eigth Piehead release the Oregon-based ml havecuriously decided to crank out a full-length homage to the music ofspooky film director and composer, John Carpenter. Many may not knowthat Carpenter often likes to write the music for his films, givingcampy classics like Big Trouble in Little China and Dark Startheir appropriately stiff and synth-heavy backing. ml, on the otherhand, are more known for their tricked out beats and goofy sense ofhumor that place them firmly in the west coast new electronicpsuedo-dance family these days, so while it's not what I expected fromthe former Thine Eyes guys, it's not hard to imagine either. I'm notsure how noble it is to crib someone else's style so deliberately thatit becomes a tribute, but somehow Man Is The Warmest Place To Hidemanages to be both fun and faithful to the source without ever soundingcheap. Well, it's no cheaper than a John Carpenter score so it seems tobe working on that level. The music is all a series of simple themeswith a filmic overtone that makes them moody but not overlycomplicated. While the sounds don't come from a Carpenter film, it'seasy to see them working with one. Most of the timbres are liftedstraight from vintage synths (or vintage synth emulators as may be thecase) and the sound design is intentionally not clever or obtrusive.The few places where the guys resort to more recent sounding filtersand patches actually take the songs out of that full-on Carpenter worldand help bridge the gap between goofy experiment and music that'sactually enjoyable on its own. Ml have never established a firm styleto my ears over the years. They tend to blend in with other acts fromthe Pacific northwest who trade in quirky, laptop-fueledpost-industrial beat making and so it's a little ballsy for them to putsomething like this out that gives most of the stylistic cues up tounseen source material. I'd like to see more people try this sort ofthing, if only to see what talented musicians can do with an artificialbut well-understood set of limitations. The obvious question is: is therecord worth listening to outside of the context of the John Carpenterangle, and I'm not sure about that. I suppose the answer lies in howmuch you like John Carpenter's music. It definitely feels a littlecheesy if you take away the idea that it's an homage, but if you knowgoing in what it's all about, it's quite a fun thing to spin. As itstands though, this is my favorite batch of ml songs to date, and I'mnot sure what that means for the rest of their discography. What itmeans for now is that Piehead scores again with another release we'renot likely to have seen without this special series, which is prettyawesome.
With this year's eigth Piehead release the Oregon-based ml havecuriously decided to crank out a full-length homage to the music ofspooky film director and composer, John Carpenter. Many may not knowthat Carpenter often likes to write the music for his films, givingcampy classics like Big Trouble in Little China and Dark Startheir appropriately stiff and synth-heavy backing. ml, on the otherhand, are more known for their tricked out beats and goofy sense ofhumor that place them firmly in the west coast new electronicpsuedo-dance family these days, so while it's not what I expected fromthe former Thine Eyes guys, it's not hard to imagine either. I'm notsure how noble it is to crib someone else's style so deliberately thatit becomes a tribute, but somehow Man Is The Warmest Place To Hidemanages to be both fun and faithful to the source without ever soundingcheap. Well, it's no cheaper than a John Carpenter score so it seems tobe working on that level. The music is all a series of simple themeswith a filmic overtone that makes them moody but not overlycomplicated. While the sounds don't come from a Carpenter film, it'seasy to see them working with one. Most of the timbres are liftedstraight from vintage synths (or vintage synth emulators as may be thecase) and the sound design is intentionally not clever or obtrusive.The few places where the guys resort to more recent sounding filtersand patches actually take the songs out of that full-on Carpenter worldand help bridge the gap between goofy experiment and music that'sactually enjoyable on its own. Ml have never established a firm styleto my ears over the years. They tend to blend in with other acts fromthe Pacific northwest who trade in quirky, laptop-fueledpost-industrial beat making and so it's a little ballsy for them to putsomething like this out that gives most of the stylistic cues up tounseen source material. I'd like to see more people try this sort ofthing, if only to see what talented musicians can do with an artificialbut well-understood set of limitations. The obvious question is: is therecord worth listening to outside of the context of the John Carpenterangle, and I'm not sure about that. I suppose the answer lies in howmuch you like John Carpenter's music. It definitely feels a littlecheesy if you take away the idea that it's an homage, but if you knowgoing in what it's all about, it's quite a fun thing to spin. As itstands though, this is my favorite batch of ml songs to date, and I'mnot sure what that means for the rest of their discography. What itmeans for now is that Piehead scores again with another release we'renot likely to have seen without this special series, which is prettyawesome. 
