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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"They bestride the Earth." John Peel said that once on his old BBC World Service show to introduce a Fall song and as a vague reference to how he would often stretch his own programming rules in their case. I feel the same way about Mika Vainio. Unfair preferential treatment is in order and a new release must be celebrated. Vainio's recorded works have been in the areas of techno (as √ò, Philus), installations (Onko), out electro-rock (Pan Sonic and Endless), and finally soundscapes, which is where In The Land belongs together with Kajo and Ydin. In this context and that of nineties and naughties electronica, In The Land is hardly radical but it is exceptional.
Vanio's work has a quality and coloring that is uniquely seductive and the finesse with which he applies his personal voice to a variety of tasks sets him apart. For example, the very short opener 'Sunder Here, Sailor' is a vicious attack of animal and machine noise that, without diminishing its power, has a watery metallic sheen that makes the meaning ambiguous and defies to be labeled as noise. Throughout the album Vainio combines familiar material with the alien, and friendly production with the downright disconcerting so as to keep both the soundtrack to the imagined movie dynamic and its narrative interesting. The only lulling you'll find here is temporary. But ultimately what overwhelms is the music's sheer melancholic beauty. 'The Colour of Plants', of plain and simple construction, just a handful of throbbing drones and pure tones, sings of the deep yearning for and impossibility of transcending our deadening corporeality. 'Snowblind' returns to a favorite resource of Vainio—amplified hum. At only six minutes long it develops a into monumental resonant chord with depth and emotion worthy of its drone music heritage (see the Charlamaine Palestine review in this edition). One more important difference between Vainio and many of his colleagues in electronic music is his commitment to what's known in the wine industry as low-yield—the notion that one cannot allow a vine to produce copious fruit without diluting the wine and that to make a concentrated wine, the vine's vigor and productivity must be either naturally or artificially curtailed. As numerous artists have demonstrated, electronic music is very easy to make and the whish-washy results of high-yield methods are abundant. In contrast, Vanio's stance seems almost defiant. -
Invariably, the image of an artist has to have a measured effect ontheir music, be it a positive or negative one. Some bands are all imageand can't muster a good song to meet it, while others have full soundsand amazing songs but absolutely no image. Pavement certainly fit inthe latter category, a band that had so little self image they couldn'teven properly announce their own demise. With Pavement gone, StephenMalkmus emerged from the ashes to make music that is all image, littlesubstance, and completely mediocre. What with the pin-up shots formen's magazines and interviews about his sex life, it seems Mr. Malkmushas had little time to formulate anything besides a passable effort onhis second solo LP, which also marks the first time he's shared thebill with his backing band the Jicks. He still has a knack for quirky,understated lyrics, and no one can take that away from him, but themusic on Pig Libis in stylistic shambles. Some fans have tried to explain it away withterms like "indie prog" and lengthy descriptions of the darker imagery,but they can't describe around the fact that it's dull. True, Malkmusgets closer to the Pavement sound on this record only in that it'ssloppier than his last release. The band does sound more in tune witheach other, like these songs are creations of the whole crew, but theytrip along like a wounded animal rather than stroll or strut. From theplayful nature of "Water and a Seat," with its call and answer andcacophonous backing vocals to the too long jam of "1% of One," Malkmusdoes sound more comfortable in his voice and the melodies are prettycatchy. That makes it all the more disappointing when there's no payoff. The songs that have promise are too short, and the ones that havenowhere to go get there and stay there far too long. I started gettinginto the album a little on "(Do Not Feed The) Oyster," but was turnedaway by the drum roll break into jam territory. All over the album areannoying sounds and noises, usually the overly campy keyboards fromMike Clark and Malkmus himself. Anchoring it all together is anoverwhelming feeling that this record exists only as a marketing tool,released just so Malkmus can say he "stretched his legs" on a releaseand "tried something different." Malkmus' image is the only thing thatholds this record together and the reason why rabid fans have alreadybought every copy on the shelves in the local record shop. For mostfans, the man can do no wrong. For me, he certainly tried to do wrongall over this record, and sometimes he succeeded beyond all doubt orreason.
For those who either missed or were unable to get the Horse HospitalCD release last year, the Nurse With Wound contribution, "Salt," hasnow basically been expanded. In its original 60+ minute form, the musicpretty much played as a loop for the entire duration. The sound wavedback and forth between two chords, providing a cold and creepy feelingof ship being lost at sea. The purpose for the original work wasoriginally to provide aural ambience to the art exhibit at the HorseHospital gallery. With this version, efforts have been made to makethis more of a foreground-listening experience, but there's honestlynot much else added. Along with the fluctuating orchestral-like chords,other loops are added bit by bit, including sounds that resemble apassing car, a boat horn, piano, creaking boards, and a creaky door. Ataround the 18-minute mark, all extraneous sounds taken out, leaving thesound of water. Eventually the water fades out, leaving only thedroning two chords. Effects fade off shortly thereafter and the droneeventually dies. NWW fans expecting something dense and maximalisticlike An Awkward Pause will probably not enjoy this album as much as fans of the droning NWW heard on albums like Soliloquoy for Lilith or A Missing Sense. 
This four-piece art-rock outfit is from the misty, seaside town ofBrighton, England. Yet, proximity to the salty brine of the Atlantichas had more of an impact on their wardrobe than their music. Dressedon stage in military regalia cross-bred with Boy Scout fashion, BritishSea Power look more like retired ship captains than a band. Combinethis with their penchant for naturalistic stage sets—consisting ofstrategically placed trees, limbs and large, stuffed birds—and youmight begin to think this band is all image and no substance.Musically, "Childhood Memories" disguises itself as laid back tune, butemerges as a stunning rocker. It opens with a deceivingly subtle, yetterribly catchy hook that occasionally builds up into something larger,only to come down gently to where it began. The tension that thisbuilds finally explodes at the end, as the guitars swarm together tobuild a wall of sound behind lead singer Yan's repeated chant of "Andwe go, and we go, and we go!" The B-side, labeled as "Favours in theBeetroot Fields," is actually the (supposedly) CD exclusive track"Strange Communication." It's a gentle, breezy track dominated by Yan'slonging vocals and lyrics such as "Well I don't even remember thefall/and I don't even remember at all/and you'll probably never see meagain/Such a strange communication," display how, after a couple ofhit-and-miss early singles, this band has finally come into their own.With a full-length on its way, it's perfect timing. Listening to Asa-Chang & Junray for the first time, I was immeditely and pleasantly reminded of the first time I heard Stereolab. This is not to say that the music is at all similar to Stereolab; but rather, their intuitive mix of disparate styles sounded wholly new and wonderful, as if a whole new genre was being created that held infinite possibilities. For a jaded listener, this is always a wonderful experience to have.
Asa-Chang & Junray embody the things that most adventurous music listeners are always looking for: something new, inspirational and eminently listenable. Their full-length album Song Chang, released last year, opens with "Hana," a musical statement of purpose if ever I've heard one. Beginning with a ravishing swell of orchestral strings, two electronically-treated voices are heard. Asa-Chang and Yoshimi P-We (from The Boredoms) recite Japanese phonetics "Ha...na...ha...na...da..." Suddenly, a deeply percussive tabla drum begins, with its round, thick beats beats fractured by clever laptop editing. The voices begin to be chopped and re-assembled, as they stutter and trip over the irregular beat. Shrill, supersonic sounds phase from left to right as the song plays like a brilliant collaboration between The Boredoms, Bill Laswell and Enoch Light. The experimental elements are balanced by the perfection and depth of the ethnic rhythms and the high-fidelity exotica-style production. It's playful ear candy, but with a cold, clean edge.
Asa Chang & Junray's music would be quite catchy if it were not so kaleidoscopically fractured and re-formed, like a brilliant work of Cubist art. In a similar respect to Cubism, it's never quite clear if all of the parts really fit perfectly together. However, the slightly "off" juxtapositions create a drama that illuminates portions of the music that would not normally be heard. The rest of the album continues with the formula set out by "Hana," with a set of sparer pieces each illuminating a different sound source. "Goo-Gung-Gung" is an insane two-minute bit that sounds like a traditional Japanese version of Musilmgauze's violent Middle East breaks. "Jippun" begins with traditional Japanese shakahuchi flute playing, which is quickly digitized and splattered all over the stereo channels, while an adrenalin-pumped tabla rhythm begins. It accelerates and eventually mutates into a something reminiscent of The Boredom's more recent tribal drum-circle sound. The album ends with "Kutsu," a simple short trumpet improvisation played over a randomly shaken taiko beat. Song Chang is a terrific first album by one the best new talents in Japanese experimental music.
Tigerbeat6's website describes Deathas a remix album "by people who love Numbers, for people who loveNumbers," and it's an apt statement. Though you don't have to befamiliar with Numbers Life to enjoy these remixes, itdefinitely helps. Most of the remixes find Numbers' raw energychanneled onto the dancefloor, and why shouldn't they? After all, thehistory of the remix is rooted in the 12" single. Most remixers havefun with their interpretations of the songs, and it makes sense thatthey would—Numbers is a fun band. Gold Chains opens Death witha much-expected cheeky, clubby, self-referencing take on "Prison Life,"complete with a skit and a '77-style punk outro; Dymaxion'ssample-heavy "What is the Product?" is well-constructed and, though itbarely avoids being overly-quirky with its Speak'n'Spell samples, fitswell within the Numbers aesthetic. Kid 606's obligatory remix (of "WeLike Having These Things") is undeniably (and uncharachteristically?)catchy with a melodic pulsing bassline, and the Numan-esque synth soloat the end is really quite pretty. GD Luxxe's "Get Away Mix" of "PrisonLife" comes closest to the perfect remix in the traditional sense ofthe term. He keeps the basic feel of the song intact, reproducing theoriginal bassline and sampling Numbers' vocals, while adding verses ofhis own. The end result is a remix that stays true to the sourcematerial, while at the same time becoming a definitive GD Luxxe track.Caro and Kit Clayton also add their own lyrics to their interpretationsof "Intercom," and "Information," respectively, but it's GD Luxxe'strack that works best in this respect. The most notable divergence fromthe four-on-the-floor is Stars As Eyes, who buck the trend byconverting "I'm Shy" (retitled "I Have a Headache This Big") into adark post-rock anthem, propelled by a one-note guitar line a la theSupremes' "Keep Me Hanging On." Credit should also be given to Stars AsEyes for being one of the only remixers to utilize Indra Duris' drumsounds, instead of replacing them with a quantized drum machine beat.As with any remix album, there are some less-than-stellar tracks, butthey're in the minorit. (If I'm forced to name names: Dwayne Sodahberk,DAT Politics, and Uprock.) Most likely the reason that Deathworks better than most remix albums is because Numbers' source materialis open-ended enough to allow a myriad of remixing possibilities, mostof which are just damned catchy.
Palestine's music is not very well known today, partly because thereare few recordings available, but also because he moved on to othermedia as the massive commercialism of minimalist music developed in thelate seventies and eighties. His seemingly narrow escape from the titleof "minimalist composer" was fortuitous since what that has come toimply in musical terms today does no justice to his work. His music isdistinct from what became mainstream minimalism by its focus on soundrather than process and its deep emotional expressionism as opposed toaesthetics, grandeur and polish. Thus Morton Feldman is a much closerneighbor than is Steve Reich. "Schlingen-Blängen" is a drone organpiece which demonstrates Palestine's genius for pulling unbelievablesounds, colors and effects out of a familiar instrument. It isbasically one chord sustained for seventy minutes with infrequentadditions and removals of tones and changes of registration. Thisapproach to making music, of using stasis to force the listener intoconcentration on the sound itself, is very difficult to do well and Ihave never heard it so successfully performed as on this disk. First,there is the choice of the initial chord and its registration andalready it is clear that the musician has exquisite taste andexpressive powers, not unlike Messiaen in those aspects. Then beginsthe impressionism. The old Dutch organ in the church of the smallFriesland village of Farmsum Delftzijl starts magically to sing its ownmelodies and rhythms without the player needing to move any controls.The illusion of rapid activity is the result of interferences among thecomponents of the chord within the organ and the church. Such effectsare not unfamiliar but their depth and extent here are staggering.Above the dazzling impressionism is the expressionism, these rapidcycles of intensity, melody and colors, as though they were playingsome non-existent process-music score, are as painfully beautiful asthe original chord. Palestine's comment, "I'm the living hybrid in myown work of the physical gesturality of Jackson Pollock and thespiritual color chemistry of Mark Rothko," hits the nail on the head.The quality of the recording conveys enough of the massive physicalityof the experience to be satisfying while still conveying the sadnessthat one couldn't have been there. The acoustic space of the old churchis precisely rendered. Anyone that enjoys drone music and static soundpainting in any genre should own this CD—Charlemagne Palestine's musicis the archetype. 
If Matmos albums can be considered electronic records for the mind,Drew Daniel's first full-length record as Soft Pink Truth isundoubtedly an electronic record for the ass. Do You Party?should probably contain a warning that 'chunky subhuman basslines atloud levels (from the opening track, "Everybody's Soft" and permeatingthroughout the entire disc) may cause uncontrollable rhythmic pelvicmovement.' Here, Daniel has gotten in touch with his sexy inner discodiva, still dancing down at Club Uranus. Do You Party? like acoming-out party, where everything that has been building up for yearsfinally manifests and explodes for the whole world to see, hear, feeland enjoy. Along with catchy melodies and punchy beats, the album is aparty mix littered with samples upon samples, tactfully andrhythmically integrated words and sounds accent beats which make for alisten both entertaining as it is dancable. The overload of samples islike a box full of a collection of keychains or souvenir spoons thatfinally needs to be emptied from the quirky "girl oh girl" samples from"Tender Studies" to grunting and groaning samples elsewhere. BlecchyBlevin Blectum has joined in for a vocal contribution to thehead-spinning Vanity 6 cover tune "Make Up," thumping enough to givemost electroclashers an example to follow. Daniel's partner in crime,Martin has donated a few synth lines here and there, but sounds ofsurgery or other musically-forged field recordings are nowhere to befound. This album isn't built for headphonic solitude or an employer'scomputer speakers, but can be fully appreciated on a bass-flatteringsound system, in the clubs, at home, or in a vehicle pimped-out withcustom rims and tinted windows. What you -can- enjoy on your computer,however, is the bonus of the included video for "Promofunk." Now ifonly I could get my hands on those 12" singles. 
Back in 1998, "Transmissions From Scumsburg," my weekly industrial andexperimental radio show on the Boston University student-run station,gave me a late-night forum to blast the blossoming genre often calleddigital hardcore. Alec Empire's DHR, the label who gave the genre itsnamesake, introduced me to such angsty, noisy acts as Bomb 20, Shizuo,EC8OR and, of course, Atari Teenage Riot. The music was pure andviolent, and its riot sounds inspired me in ways that industrial musicno longer did. Then, at the zenith of the label's popularity, it madenumerous bad decisions, giving too much attention to god-awfulside-projects (Nintendo Teenage Robots and She-Satellites) anduninspiring new acts (Fever and Lolita Storm). The label had lost allof the vital energy that kept it relevant, and it wasn't long beforepeople stopped caring about any music it put out. During this fall fromgrace, Atari Teenage Riot's original frontwoman Hanin Elias started upthe Fatal imprint on the label, showcasing music exclusively made bywomen. While the idea may have resembled the somewhat admirable goalsof the Seattle riot-grrrl scene, the implementation was universallydull, signified by the unoriginal white noise of Nic Endo's debut EPand Elias's own drab full-length. Sadly, on Elias's new album No Games No Fun(inaugurating the first Fatal release outside of the DHR community), itappears that those glory days are just as far away as they ever were.Even more lackluster than her last album, Elias' bad songwritingplagues the album as a whole, via murky rock tracks ("Blue") dated hiphop ("You Suck"), lo-fi electronic cuts ("Rockets Against Stones") andbland acoustic numbers ("Catpeople"). Quite frankly, Elias' voice justdoesn't work with ANY of these styles. Not even notable contributorssuch as Merzbow, J. Mascis, Khan, and even Mr. Empire himself can savethis uneven, sub-mediocre release. Still, one thing about this releaseis consistent: its title. I can assure you that this was "no fun" tolisten to. 
Electronic music has had many casualties over the years, but noneprobably as depressing as the death of drum n' bass. Unlike many genreswho have fallen victim to the same ultimate fate, drum n' bass (whichfor the sake of this review will encompass all subgenres that wouldfall under the larger grouping) found itself divided inside itself aswell as commercially exploited in a ruthless manner. In the end,corporate trend vultures and shady admen reduced the music to 30 secondloops, while those who originally loved the music splintered off into"new" genres such as garage and breakcore. Still, there are artists outthere plugging away and writing music truly evocative of the genre.However, the question lingers: does this effort even matter anymore? IfBad Company is any indication, then the answer is, sadly, no. In orderfor a genre to thrive, the music must remain interesting. Over thecourse of two CDs (one album and one continuous mix), Bad Company's Shot Down On Safarirepresents the stagnancy that helped bring down drum n' bass. From theoverused ragga vocals (particularly on "Mo' Fire") to the same oldtired breakbeats and synth effects, it becomes abundantly clear why somany people jumped ship for more progressive sounds. Admittedly, mytastes in drum n' bass have always leaned in the darkstep / techstepdirection, but this album just doesn't offer anything up worthmentioning. If for some bizarre reason after reading this review youstill feel like you want "Shot Down On Safari," rest assured that themix CD offers quite a few older tracks that reflect the brighter daysof drum n' bass.
One of the better 1990s music trends was when the remix truly evolved into an art form. Artists like Meat Beat Manifesto, The Orb, and Autechre were some of the first who not only transformed a song into something almost completely new, but left their mark with a distinguishable sound that made the new version identifiably their own.
 
While Richard D. James tended to follow more of the music trends than lead them (whether it was techno, ambient, drum and bass, breakcore or whatever terms hipsters, IDM listees, and record stores were coming up with that month) he excelled in the craft of transformation. A large percentage of Aphex Twin's popularity rose because of the remixes he did for then-popular worldwide acts like Nine Inch Nails, Jesus Jones, and Curve. (Another large percentage might arguably be chalked up to advertisement music, be on the lookout for 15 Ad Themes for Cash soon!) People bought 12" singles and CD singles in the early-mid 1990s because anything that had Aphex Twin printed on it was usually a sign of quality, and, no matter how little the original artist was liked, the remix would satisfy. 26 Mixes collects some of the more popular remixes along with some unreleased and scarely printed songs, arranged on two discs, with disc one containing more of the quiet stuff and disc two containing more of the beat-saturated loud stuff. It's an excellent document for those who aren't willing to pay high prices for things like the super-limited noodly Philip Glass/David Bowie track, are too embarassed to own a Jesus Jones record in their collection, or have absolutely no clue who Nav Katze, Mescalinum United, or Die Fantastischen Vier are and where to find them. It's not chronoligically arranged, but through the magic of programmable discs, the evolution can be charted, from the bashful, timid, faceless-era Richard D. James of 1990-92 through the "I have a bloody tank"-era Richard D. James of 2001. Fans will delight in the inclusion of two unreleased remixes: one from Selected Ambient Works 2 and a remix of Windowlicker (although shockingly not the one by V/Vm), but that Beck remix just didn't make cut. Maybe next time, Becky.
