Far too much music being released these days seems to be utilitarian in nature. Albums are touted as "great driving music" or "after-club chillout music." I've actually heard certain critics suggest that an album is best heard in a particular time and setting: "Listen to this in the early morning hours after your girlfriend dumps you." Ever since Brian Eno developed the concept of ambient music, there seems to be a concerted effort to turn music into the equivalent of a backrub: something purely contextual that functions as an emotional salve if applied properly. Since the early 80's, Nurse With Wound has been pushing the opposite concept. Steven Stapleton's music is not made to make you feel better, or as something upbeat to play while doing crunches. Stapleton's music is designed for active, deep listening. You simply can't just play it in the background as you converse with friends. Even his most ambient pieces are not meditative; they are designed as a complex drama to make you FEEL something.
Steven Stapleton's newest release is a full-length LP on the incomparably interesting Beta-Lactam Rings label. She and Me Fall Together in Free Death is probably the most approachable, largely "musical" album that NWW has released since Rock N' Roll Station. It's also one of his strangest concepts, a marriage of trance-inducing Krautrock grooves with a traditional jazz standard and some jarringly atonal musique concrete. Side A is the 20-minute title track: a slow-motion jam reminiscent of of one of Can's sidelong tracks on Tago Mago or the more avant-garde grooves of Tony Conrad and Faust's Outside the Dream Syndicate. The propulsive Jaki Liebezeit drumbeat is the foundation for a long jam session with what sounds like a dijderidoo and layers of guitar feedback. It's a massive, heavy sound, the kind that Julian Cope would devote a whole chapter to in his "Kratrocksampler." Side B is one long piece with three distinct movements. Beginning with those familiar, World Serpent-trademark windchimes, the listener is quickly ushered into Stapleton's singing debut (!) in a rendition of the oft-covered traditional jazz ballad "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair." This was a favorite of the recently deceased Nina Simone, and also of the avant-jazz screamer Patty Waters. Nurse With Wound's version is backed by cello drones, repetitive guitar strums and tambourine, sounding very much like The Velvet Underground's "Venus in Furs." It's such a treat to hear Steven Stapleton's multitracked vocals cover this classic song, and this eerie version rates as one of my favorites. This song and the title track prove to the naysayers that Nurse With Wound is equally adept at rock n' roll songcraft as he is at demented sound collages. The creepy jazz cover seques into "Chicken Concret (For Missy E)," a truly warped tape-edit job that juxtaposes chicken squawks and sythesized birdcalls with random bleeps, speaker hiccups and gongs. Could this be Steven Stapleton's tribute to Timbaland and Missy Elliott's incomparable use of musique concrete techniques on their major label hip-hop anthems? Hard to say, but I like to think so. Side B ends with the hyper-sexualized "Gusset Typing," in which a mutated woman's voice describes her masturbation and orgasm in intimate, anatomical detail. Her monologue is set against an intense rhythmic throbbing that builds as she reaches her climax. At the end, she blows her load and the record ends. This certainly qualifies as an active listening experience, and it's also a great make-out record!
Named after Vic Darkwood and Gustav Temple's postmodernmanifesto for the modern gentleman, London's The Chap began life asKaramasov guitarist Johannes von Weizsaecker's side project—a startdocumented on their debut, 2002's 10" Fun. Since then, The Chaphave developed into a real band and added songs to the originallyinstrumental repertoire. Their sound is an arch blend of motorikrhythms, sharp riffs, languid solos, pop hooks, fat synth bass, andweird lyrics. Despite sharing with some contemporaries a fetish for newwave, post-punk, and krautrock, they manage to occupy a unique,futuristic position -- they just don't sound like anyone else. They'lloccasionally break from song structures into experimentation, and theymay baffle us with the strangeness of their subject matter, but there'sno chin-stroking austerity about them: The Chap have their tongue intheir cheek at all times.
Having played these songs live forabout a year, it's good to see that on record, rather than just layingdown their live sound, they've indulged in a bit of studiomanipulation, with both striking pan effects and microscopic sampletweaks to listen for, once again setting them at a distance from otherguitar outfits. They've also indulged their more contemplative side, ason "Volumatic Spacer Device", which ponders sagely the relative meritsof sex and asthma. This album doesn't have a bad song on it, but thestand-out track for me is the pseudo-operatic rocker "(Hats off to)Dror Frangi" (a forthcoming single), which combines a simultaneouslycharming and irritating "rah rah rah" chorus with a driving riff, totell the romantic tale of one person's need to find "samples in SMDIformat, for my Peavey SX Expander."
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Because Muslimgauze's Bryn Jones released nearly every second that he recorded in his lifetime, a task which is being continued for him by labels such as Soleilmoon now that he has died, there are many CDs (and double CDs, and triple CDs, and boxsets) which sound very similar to one another and may even have been recorded all in one day, one right after the other. How is this Muslimgauze CD different from all 150+ other Muslimgauze CDs? It isn't, but it is a live recording, which is quite rare in his catalog and is of note simply due to that fact.
Since it isn't a studio work, it can't be held to the same criteria as his studio albums; this really was recorded in one evening, and as such it is just fine. If it were a studio album, I would complain that the material does not sound finished, that the main difference from track to track is a (very) slightly altered drum pattern. But then that's a common problem in all of his music. I can't help but wonder what a Muslimgauze record would sound like if Jones had taken a year, or even half a year, to work on it, rather than simply spit them out and move on to the next one. For a concert document, though, it's a moot point.
The "Arabbox" concert was recorded in 1993, around the same time as... oh, eight other CDs. The music is upbeat and relaxed, with loops of heavy drums (both electronic and sampled from middle eastern percussion) driving every song along in a laconic, easy-going fashion. The songs appear to be loose, consisting of little more than a beat, some spare sound effects, a droning tamboura, and a melodic instrument (usually steel drums or tablas, or some keyboard sample of a percussion instrument) soloing on top. Some neat dub effects bolt in and out of the mix, with backwards loops and cut-up voices rising and falling suddenly at various times. "Arabbox" flows smoothly, at a similar medium tempo throughout, which makes it useful for establishing an atmosphere and not calling too much attention to itself. Though this is a live concert, no evidence of an audience is present and the sound quality is excellent. Is it necessary? Not really, but it has documentary importance, and isn't unenjoyable on its own terms.