Plenty of new music to be had this week from Laetitia Sadier and Storefront Church, Six Organs of Admittance, Able Noise, Yui Onodera, SML, Clinic Stars, Austyn Wohlers, Build Buildings, Zelienople, and Lea Thomas, plus some older tunes by Farah, Guy Blakeslee, Jessica Bailiff, and Richard H. Kirk.
Lake in Girdwood, Alaska by Johnny.
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It has been a few years since this German trio, comprised of brothers Ronald and Robert Lippok and Stefan Schneider, released their Kölner Brett and Pantone EPs, although members have been busy with other notable projects such as Tarwater and Mapstation. For the better part of their latest disc, Hotel Morgen, they appear to have fallen back on their unique compositional style and structures, use of instrumental and electronic-based sounds and space, which has made them one of my favorite groups, but without the type of sit-up-and-take-notice advances I expected after such a hiatus.Domino
That said, it's also probably what still makes this disc interesting — keeping it fresh without rehashing much of what's worked well in the past. Leading off the disc, the rhythmically punchy "Dahlem" shuffles along to bright and airy synth and Wurlitzer progressions that cushion Schneider's signature melodic bass play in the upper register with a touch of tremolo. "Feld" builds into syncopated, reverb knob-twirled machine rhythms, resembling a train going over a bridge complete with Doppler effect, which links up with a simple bass riff that grows menacing with each repetition to provide the foundation for textural synth soundscapes to float over. The aptly titled "Sol" is the most unique track in that it has the brightest feel, thanks in part to the percolating electro-rhythm augmented by live drums and major key progressions from the vibraphone which is woven with more upper register bass. The solid groove of "Miss You" moves along to choppy beats, bubbling keyboards and smooth low end, adding layers of electro-percussion, synth trickles and bass melodies. Comprised of fourteen tracks, four of which I'd consider interludes due to their brevity, this disc didn't exactly grab a hold of my ear at first, due to my noted expectations from not hearing anything from the band for sometime. However, after a few more listens and getting past thinking of it at times resorting to glorified minimalism, Hotel Morgen is chock full of all the stuff I like about To Rococo Rot, presented in such a way that it's kept crisp, which is what makes it good.
Listening to German-based Margareth Kammerer is almost as difficult as attempting to read German without some kind of pocket dictionary. Her style is pale and remote, her attitude near the border of nonexistent, and her references obscure. It's to my benefit that B. Fleischmann, Philip Jeck, and Chris Abrahams are all over this record because, as interesting as her poetic deliveries can be, the semi-charming resonance that marks this recording simply wasn't doing it for me by itself.
There are points in Margareth Kammerer's songs where the music feels a bit recondite; I get the impression she's singing about some esoteric practices or feelings that only she can know. As far as mystery goes, this is a nice tough because Kammerer's voice and acoustic guitar sound rather secluded themselves. On the other hand, I feel distanced from the music at points where I feel like being closer to the warmth of the songs would be a far better thing. "I Carry Your Heart With Me" sounds like a stone wall; whatever is behind the wall is what's important, but there's no way I can get to it. Even the trumpet that's included on that song does little to remove the lifeless aura that surrounds the music. There are, however, times where Kammerer's voice really carries through and makes for an interesting mix with the music. Unfortunately these instances seem to occur only when she is accompanied by another musician. This isn't true of every song — "Facing It" is a nice folkish tune that actually demonstrates Kammerer has a vocal range — but there's no denying that the remix by B. Fleischmann is a better song. Perhaps it's the dichotomy on this record that is really bothering me. To Be an Animal of Real Flesh switches back and forth between lush and full instrumentation and Kammerer's bare voice and repetitive guitar. Had the latter been totally isolated and left seperate from the other, warmer songs, perhaps I'd be more of a fan of Kammerer as a solo artist. But, as it stands, Kammerer is far more interesting when people like Philip Jeck and Fred Frith are around. Ultimately this ends up sounding more like the collaborators' album and not Kammerer's. It's a decent record with some great songs on it, but there's just too much bland space that needs to be filled up before I can come back to it for anything more than those few gems.
(self-released) A critical theory professor (whose classes I do not miss at all) onceripped me a new one for making light of The Self-Positioning Statement,that warning sign of gutless scholarly writing that lets all of yourreaders know what a horrible sexist oppressor you are before theyexpose themselves to your thoughts. 'Cause, you know, those same wordswould have a -totally- different effect on their readers if they werecoming from a Trobriand Islander. This is my indirect way of 'fessingup to the fact that I paid very little attention to the capital-Aalternative rock scene in the mid-to-late-'90s, and that I won't beable to tell you exactly which Jane's Addiction album God Bless the Electric Freaksounds a lot like; indeed, it's even a way of saying that I've neverheard a Jane's Addiction album, and that the comparison only came to mevia press blurbs on the band's web site. Taken together, all of thismight even say that, if you got sick of bands with fuzzy guitars in themid-to-late-'90s, you might be inclined to give this one a miss. You'dbe passing up on an entertainingly mixed bag of ideas, though:"Sunshine Supercreep" weaves effected sitar highlights through guitarlines that would have been entirely at home on whichever local radiostation was called The Edge in 1996, and tosses in some vocal harmoniesand UFO-addled lyrics to weird things up a bit, only to give way towhat could easily be My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult trying to hackit as a Metallica tribute band on "Apocalypse Rock" four minutes later.There are a couple of clunkers along the way ("Astrophobia" is draggeddown by its stupid space-hippie lyrics, and the dull pair ofinstrumental interludes really just have me reaching for thetrack-forward button about 30 seconds into each one), but the generallyhigh standard of production, combined with a feeling that the peopleinvolved actually took the time to write and refine their musicalideas, elevate God Bless the Electric Freak well beyond thespace-rock silliness that it could otherwise have been. It's notacademically rigorous by any means, but it sounds like the output ofthe people who were actually worth knowing when you were at university,which is a better deal for my seven bucks.
This is the sound of a band searching for its sound, tossing out anumber of tricks they picked up in the hopes that some will click andform together to make something coherent. Seachange has the elements tomake a coherent statement, but on Lay of the Landthey are not distilled, mixed in with any number of ideas that don'tquite fit the band like a glove. Seachange's vocalist delivers hislyrics in a trim British accent, neither sloppily spitting them out norlaying them down in sharp bolts, but rather reciting crisply, andskimming along the top of the overdrive pedal-laden riffage thatcomprises a fair amount of Lay of the Land. For despite the attempted utilization of abrasive chords and effects, the music on Lay of the Landis rather polite. "The Nightwatch," like nearly every other song on thealbum, uses an incessant strum on every beat technique that leads oneto believe that if they didn't strum on every beat, they'd lose theirtempo and the song would collapse into an amateurish confusion.Ironically, their use of effects and noise seems to indicate that theband wants to appear as if they are a reckless outfit, hell bent onkicking up dust and just inches from exploding into chaos. "TheNightwatch" features a particularly annoying crescendo of static thatmaterializes in the middle of the track and then hovers over it like amiasma of numbing fog. The static is merely ornamental, tacked onto anunremarkable song in an effort to give it punch, instead rendering theband's case less credible. "Forty Nights" is one of the few moments inwhich the band seems to be accomplishing what they want to, and all thesqualling and shrieking here make for an intriguing few minutes. Thesong seems fully conceived of with a particular idea, unlike the otherhybrids on the album. When they are not trying to gussy up their indiepop songs with noise rock affectations, Seachange manages to make somepretty decent indie pop, such as on the opening track "Anglokana,"which builds a tension greater with less guitar scraping and moregrace. "Carousel" takes that politeness that was such a liability andturns it into a catchy premise. Lay of the Land is at timesexasperating, but shows evidence of possessing more potential than maybe evident upon first listen. It's there, once separated from theflashy chaff that threatens to smother it.
Definitive Jux The instrumental hip-hop crowd is already sloughing off towardsinsignificance, with recent releases showing little to no innovation onthe original themes. Another can be added to that list with this latestfrom RJD2, whose new sounds definitely come from the same old tricksfor this set. Truth be told, his last full-length did nothing for me,but the remixes on the HorrorEP gave me some hope that he'd pulled himself out from under theshadows of others to create something original; maybe he learned alesson in that if he let things cook a bit more there'd be somethingreal. That hope not only disappeared but was mercilessly crushed on theopening track, where the same stale drum samples are accompanied byfast cut fades and piano plunks. Then a slow fade out that sounds likeit could be the end of the track, which would have been fine by me, asit seemed like an intro at best. Suddenly, though, the track comesright back in at full volume — SURPRISE! — and right back into the samelame line with a few distorted additions, before fading out slow again,only to come right back in in the same fashion. (It's not the beststart.) RJD2 has a genuine talent for pulling out good voices to throwin on his records, it's just what he layers them over that lacks hereand there and sometimes everywhere. "Exotic Talk" uses a vocoder over amore rock sound, but its bombast is forced and synthetic in nature, notactual. The songs here use vastly varied samples, but the compositionis so very much the same that it never succeeds in revealing anythingmore than the last record. Why he bothered to explore new areas interms of genres to sample, but stayed with the same old productiontechniques, is beyond me. Awkward missteps, like the vocal on "MakingDays Longer," don't improve the overall package, but instead bring itdown even further. There are moments where everything is not mired inmediocrity, such as "Someone's Second Kiss," with its soul vocals andkeyboard soliloquy. Next time, though, it would be beneficial if RJD2expanded his whole repertoire instead of some semblance of it, as itmight create the genre-busting album this genre desperately needs. Plus, an open note to Definitive Jux: Please stop sending out promotional copies of releases that contain anti-pirating voice stamps. It makes it impossiblefor any writer to get a good idea of the music when a voice remindsthem that it's a promo every thirty seconds. At least send out cleancopies to press sources or street teams. I wouldn't have reviewed therecord if I hadn't bought it myself, as it's that detrimental to thelistening experience. Just a thought. I'd never heard anything like itbefore I received this CD.
Klangbad On paper, the pairing of German krautrock godfathers Faust with NewJersey Hip Hop trio Dälek sounds like a soundclash of epic porportionsthat has as much potential to work as it does to fail spectacularly.Through a brief studio collaboration while Dälek were on tour inEurope, the unlikely became a reality and the result is the eight-trackalbum Derbe Respect, Alder.The mutual respect and admiration from both sides is on full displayhere, as Dälek let Faust jam sloppily over pieces of tracks that wouldbe much tighter on a Dälek record proper. Meanwhile, Faust step backand react, allowing Dälek to infuse the tracks with their signaturetake on abrasive hip hop. Dälek (The MC) flows in an open verse styleover cavernous drones and the sounds of giants battling. Looped beatsmake an appearance and then give way to uncompromising live drummingand bass that takes the funk and mechanizes, becoming less of aninvitation to dance and more of a directive. To their credit, all ofthe performers try to make it work and take what could have been aconfluence of meandering noise and shape it into loose, jammy songs.That none of this is scripted or pre-planed is obvious from the start.In fact, the recording often sounds like a straight mix of a livesession even though parts and takes have been reconstructed somewhatafter the fact. Lo-Fi is the aesthetic of choice rendering the soundquality and mix frustrtating at times. Though these are finished albumtracks, some of the songs are so raw that they more closely resembledemos. This is the sound of two sets of performers learning from eachother and making some noise in the process that is both dense andmacabre, but not entirely unexepected given the creators' respectivebackcatalogs. I find myself appreciating the record more than likingit; I understand the journey and the purpose of it all but it's notalways a trip that I want to take. A straight-up Faust or Dälek recordwould probably find heavier rotation in my player, but being aspectator through Derber Respect, Alder certainly has itsrewards. There's a certain amount of faith required for a project likethis to work, and it calls on listeners to meet the record halfway, toaccept the technical shortcomings and take them with the music as areflection of the experience of creation. The final result is a tenuousbridge between drastically different styles and methodologies thatdemonstrates the power of abandoning preconceptions and going where thecloudy haze of inspiration takes you.
BiP-HOp/Fällt The second in the two labels' collaborative series of collaborative works, Reciprocess 02features duo, solo, and reciprocal remix tracks by Stephen Mathieu'sFull Swing and Douglas Benford's Si-cut.db. The series' goal is easyenough: to explore the "process" of collaboration in a morecomprehensive way by including evidence of the artists alone, together,and at conscious remove from each other. The most interesting thingabout this set-up is the way it questions the assumed ideal of anycollaboration. By anticipating the range of synthesis and clashavailable to any two artists, Reciprocess assures that thedecision of "which combination is better?" becomes both well-informedand harder to make. Sometimes the points of divergence within aparticular union can be the most interesting, as was the case withvolume one, Komet +/vs. Bovine Life. Conversely on 02,Mathieu and Benford transcend even "complimentary" status by focusingtheir contributions into such a sleek, consistent product thatdistinguishing between remix, joint effort, and solo work will no doubtrequire a second look at the liner notes. Those already familiar withFull Swing will find Mathieu's two solo tracks echo much of theclick-less, bass-driven dub Benford has perfected throughout his yearsunder the Si-cut.db name. His simple and immediate melodic approach,something Mathieu's idiosyncratic output has often rejected, becomesthe disc's support, a skeleton filled in by Full Swing's vibrantglitch-ist accompaniment. Mathieu is one artist whose reliance onglitch or microsound method never seems to result in the same tireddeconstructionist route; he can atomize sound with the best of them buthis reformations always reach further than the simple end of exploitingmusic's ephemeral qualities. Being forced to accommodate Benford'ssolid, even danceable structures only further enlivens hiscollaborator's technique, encouraging dense, swooning textures thatwill inevitably recall the work of Christian Fennesz. In fact, Reciprocess 02would not be a bad recommendation for anyone curious about the resultof a collaboration between the Viennese artist and, say, someone fromthe ~scape label. As with anything Mathieu has a hand in, though, it isspecial on its own terms, fusing the distinctly modern elegance anddelicacy of his music with Benford's more extroverted and romanticstyle in ways that reveal each must have had some affection for theother all along.
Strange Attractors For those who are familiar only with the most easily available recordedworks of Kinski (ie: the Sub Pop releases), this album might besomewhat of a mystery: it's not the blistering loud rock sounds feltmiles away, but a collection of the gentle, spacey tunes Kinski liveaudiences have paid witness to for years. The disc opens with the briefechoed guitar work of "Never Compete with Small Girls," then isfollowed by a nearly half hour live performance, "The Misprint in theGutenberg Print Shop," recorded live in Seattle. This tune, along withthe rest of the disc pretty much, is a real trip, with twitteringprimitive effects and chiming sounds, rumbling echoed bass, and aserene flute on top. It's ghostly and intoxicating, moves through anumber of different phases, from swelling sounds to parts so quiet apin could be heard dropping, and it never gets stale or dull. I'm notsurprised the group has toured extensively with Acid Mothers Temple,but unlike AMT, Kinski has never bored me or made me long for a songending. There's not much room left on the disc after the massive trackbut three tracks under five minutes complete the collection. "Crepesthe Cheap" continues with drumless bliss like a spaceship in a cheapsci-fi film taking off, while "Bulky Knit Cheerleader Sweater" is awafting wall of guitars as dense as the title, and the closer, "There'sNothing Sexy About Time" drones off into the distance. While Don't Climbisn't representative of Kinski's entire range of sound, it does providea good companion piece to the more rockin bits and can certainlyprovide a good "coming down" album when leaving a concert from thefoursome that has left ears bleeding in the path.
Digital Lifeforms marks the point where Richard H. Kirk, formerly a dour, paranoid composer, released a happy, intelligent, danceable album. Originally released on Touch in 1993, the disc consists of ten distinct, separate, non-experimental tracks, all upbeat and surprisingly commercial (although without sounding naive, obvious or shit). For those who weren't able to get the original copy twelve years ago, this expanded version is now available.
Digital Lifeforms redux comes with a second CD of tracks from the period, recorded for the Sandoz project. One track has been released on CD before, some on very limited vinyl and there are a couple of alternate (original) versions. On the whole, I'm less impressed with the addition as there's nothing I find particularly spectacular or memorable. It's not unpleasant, but it's clearly something the die hard fans would probably appreciate most. it's just not great as the first disc. 
LTM Embarassingly enough, I didn't discover Biting Tongues until recently:I had been just flipping through some old vinyl at the radio stationand happened upon some old Factory 12" singles by Biting Tongues andwas drawn by the comments on the sleeves. The CompressorEP soon became a frequent spin on the radio show. As an 808 State fan,it was even more embarassing to admit that I hadn't been aware of thisgroup, as it featured Graham Massey through their entire existencebetween 1979 through 1989. LTM has taken the initiative, as they havewith a number of old Factory groups, to reintroduce their music to thepublic. What works on these reissues is the music: it's all enjoyableand the songs are also valuble in understanding some of the good thingsthat laid groundwork for much of the DFA and Output rosters and thestyles that bridged a time in Manchester's musical history after thepunk and Joy Division heyday and before the sound of acid and 808State's heyday. What I don't like (and of course, I'm being nitpicky asalways) is the lack of original artwork included in the booklets andthe terrible font choices inside, but that's only very minor. For fulldiscography along with images and other visuals, bitingtongues.comis a great resource. Coincidentally, the original four-piece BitingTongues are scheduled to perform this coming week at the ICA in Londonalong with their old touring partners/space sharers Crispy Ambulance.(Check the listings because the event's listed as Thursday, May 29thand Thursday is not the 29th.)
After the Click: Retrospective 1980-89 is the first in theseries and serves as a perfect introduction. It features 16 songshand-picked by Graham Massey, himself, and comes with a discography,interview, and liner notes for each track included. What appeals to memost about their sound and a other appealing contemporaries like 23Skidoo, A Certain Ratio, James Chance, and Liquid Liquid is the looseattitude, vibrant energy, tight rhythm section, and a sparsearrangement that doesn't cloud the sound with too much junk. Low,brooding vocals (most frequently provided by Ken Hollings, author of Destroy All Monsters and frequent contributor to The Wire magazine) are common to the early tracks, lifted off the Don't Heal LP, originally released on Situation Two in 1981. "Denture Beach" is the only track from the Live Itcassette, and is fantastically soulful for a primitive recording:completely instrumental, with a hypnotic bassline, 808 drum machinewith real drums and a blistering saxophone. My only complaint is thefadeout: for all I know, these guys could have gone on for an hour (andI wouldn't have minded). For the rest of the earlier 1980s materialincluded, the group switch up arrangements with staccato, unmelodicvocals, no bass or guitar, but numerous claps and extranous tapes on"Dirt for 485," chugging bass with tape f/x and layered screaming saxsolos on "Iyabhoone," and "44," with a spooky spoken story. Tasty noisytape experiments like 1983's "Feverhouse part 1," from the Feverhouse Soundtrackappear, but it's not even remotely common to the other beat heftymildly jazz-influenced songs. Other highlights include the immaculate"Compressor" and a live recording of "Everywhere But Here," neverrecorded in the studio. By the end of the collection, and their career,the group was down to a duo of Graham Massey and saxophonist HowardWalmsley. Massey was playing more with drum machines and programmedmelodies, trying to fill in the gaps left by the departures of othermembers. While it was a formula that translated well to 808 State, inthe Biting Tongues setting, things didn't sound quite right. "DoubleGold St. Paul" was recorded for the album Recharge and itsounds like a somewhat uncomfortable and clumsy demo for the early1990s incarnation of 808 State. It was clearly time for the BitingTongues to end.
For those primarily interested in the Factory Records label output, Compressed conveniently collects only the recordings released by Factory of Biting Tongues. Included are the Trouble Hand and Compressor releases in their entirety along with the complete soundtrack to Feverhouse,a black and white 16mm film by fellow Tongues Ken Hollings and HowardWalmsley. It was the film in its rough form that interested Factory'sTony Wilson to do a parallel release of the soundtrack and the film onthe new video extension of the Factory label, Ikon. The ten track LPwas released in 1985 along with the movie, gaining praise from a numberof press folks and showing in a couple rare locations. All ten tracksappear (at the end of this disc however) and they sound like thesoundtrack to an "atmospheric" art film a group of rhythmic tapeexperimenting rock musicians would make. Muffled horn sounds and tapenoise, instrumental subdued rhythmic numbers, field recordings putthrough effects, and droning tape manipulations are common. Theremastering job is nice as I can only begin to imagine how annoyingcrackly vinyl could easily ruin these more quiet recordings. Trouble Handwas the second Factory release: a five-track 12" EP featuring thespeedy vocal title track and the equally speedy "Panorama," which has anoisy opening (it sounds like somebody drumming inside the hull of asubmarine) and deftly slips right in to a fierce flanging bassline.Things slow down for the jazzy horn-saturated "Meat Mask Separatist,"but pick back up again for "Boss Toyota Trouble." Compressor isprobably the most celebrated peak of Biting Tongues career, with thepopular a-side, produced in 1986 and featuring machine-like live drums,hypnotic bass, looplike vocals, and a killer horn riff. My preferencehowever was the b-side, with "Black Jesus," a much darker melody andits beat-less counterpart "Black & White Jesus," the last trackreleased in terms of chronology, but making for a good transition intothe Feverhouse tracks which follow.
Recharge is the album that even time can't save. After foursongs appeared on a white label promo, the album, (the last recorded asBiting Tongues) recorded in 1989, was shelved. Technology can nevercompletely be substituted for humans, and I fairly certain that's whatI find problematic when muisicians start incorporating synths andmachines for the sake of replacing what was once live. The drum machineand synth sounds available to the now duo of Massey and Walmsley are sopainfully artificial, that it's best that they're not attempting torecreate the living drummer and horn sections. Simultaneously, theblueprints were outlined for 808 State, as the legendary QuadrastateEP was recorded at the same time in the same studio. Hints of 808classics like "Pacific" bleed through the poorly recorded firsttracks—I don't know if it's a remastering problem or if it was thestate of the original tapes, but the bass is completely overblown andmuddy on much of album. The squealy, cheesy guitar on "Take the BackRight Off" could even point to 808 State's mega hit "Cübik." Guestfemale vocals absolutely ruin the Biting Tongues'-ness of this releaseby the third track, "Love Out," while the novelty of the'ooh-we-just-got-a-sampler' in the form of endless female vocal sampleson "Increase" is simply painful. Only one track, "Neckwork," am I trulyenjoying thoroughly, but the slap-bass and white funk feel is morereminiscent of Code-era Cabaret Voltaire than anything BitingTongues did prior to 1989. Even this one track is honestly not worththe price or agony of the rest of the disc. Die hard 808 State fanswill probably find joy in this record, but Factory fans and those whofind an affinity for the earlier Biting Tongues material might want tohold off.
Scott Morgan has accomplished nothing short of an evolution on his third CD, breathing new life into his own music and into the electronic genre in general. For the first time, Loscil is not built on machines and computers alone, but with the aid of live instrumentation overtop of the usual sequencing Morgan incorporates. The result is stunning, capable of inducing real dreamlike states with even a glancing listen. Where the last record was mainly music for and from the depths of the ocean, these songs are a bridge over the waters of the past, a gateway to rebirth and the promise of the future. Morgan provided a computer base for the musicians to improvise over, then took both segments and edited them for the final product, resulting in a half-organic, half-synthetic experience that just might be the best mix of the two I've ever heard. Drone elements still prevail, with Loscil's music being more about a mood or feeling than a structure. Rhodes piano, guitar and cello add new dimensions, grounding the experimental in something familiar that makes it easier to swallow. On tracks like "Lucy Dub," there is also a hope present as well as a feeling of life beginning or continuing on unhindered. Pan and fade effects evoke a Doppler-like reaction, where it feels like the music is actively swirling around and passing in and out of the ears with an ease and playfulness. All at once the elements of each track climax together, and create a gentle swaying effect that is exquisite; and though this might take a while as the tracks are all rather lengthy, there is never a dull or unstatisfying sustain, as each section of the song burgeons with individuality. This is the auditory equivalent of being in the womb for me, and after listening to it I always feel comfortable and warm. First Narrows represents a new Loscil, one that hopefully continue to grow in the same vein.