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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This takes me back twelve years or so to the days when I'd rarelyentertain a platter on the turntable that didn't involve tunes with alot of distorted guitar and shouting. That can still be a very goodthing, and if I was some kid weened on the post-rock continuum,whatever the hell that may be, I'd probably have my socks rocked byGiddy Motors. However, I've got so many old AmRep and Touch and Goalbums and suchlike that do this kind of thing with a tad more venomthat I can't help but have a few reservations. If I saw the band play agig I'd almost definitely be more enthusiastic than I am sat at homewith CD spinning, but that's always been the nature of the rockbeast.There's always room for one more rock band who can actually rockwithout resorting to corny old gestures. There seems to be a risingwave of post-grunge riffers storming venues around the UK. Alongsidesuch scene stalwarts as Part Chimp and Macrocosmica and relativenewcomers such as Terashima, Giddy Motors may well be the mostinventive of this boisterous bunch. My main criticism is that thesinger sounds a bit forced and silly at times, particularly on "Sassy"where his ranting cockney wideboy head-inside-out delivery begins toirk, but this is compensated for by a tight rhythm section who justkeep moving and plying all bad manner of unpredictable feints andparries. Any band who gets compared to the Birthday Party has a lot tolive up to though, and if they can muster even half the intensity it'llbe well worth hearing from a stage. "Dog Hands" is more like the JesusLizard replacing David Yow with that weird crooner from US Maple. GiddyMotors show they're capable of subtlety and light and shade subtlety on"Venus Medallist," the albums' deceptively lulling penultimate trackthat pulls off a lovely moodshift with cello, space synth whoosh andprettily plucked acoustic guitar. Steve Albini has recorded this debutalbum from the south London-based trio so you can be assured that ithits hard and precise. Unlike the drastically overrated and slightlyirritating Mclusky, Giddy Motors throw up a few quirks, sparks andspasms that hint that the best is yet to come if they can just keeppushing. When I think about the light years Boredoms have travelledfrom the Anal By AnalEP, I hope that a band like Giddy Motors can go a similar distance asit could be an exciting voyage to experience. The next step in theirjagged journey comes courtesy of the album's opening assault "Magmanic"lifted as a single. This is accompanied by a twisted bad German coversong obscurity from the Swiss group Grauzone, who I'd never heard ofbefore, and a more intense take on the album's "Bottle Opener" retitled"Tight Sauce," which might be their finest few minutes. The singlegives a pretty good idea of what the band are all about, and therefrain "It started changing," could almost be a self referentialmanifesto of sorts, but the album is more filling. They should behitting venues around the UK right about now. 
Even if I didn't know the truth, I would seriously think that thisdebut album is the result of somebody who clearly listens to a LOT ofmusic and is a big fan of numerous styles of unique recordings. Fromthe opening "Intro," the stage is set by a collage of various differentstyles cut and pasted together. With a fierce drum solo, the albumlaunches into full gear with the catchy "He's So Dumb," paying homageto laid back funk with a sexy bass riff, ample percussion and cleverlyrics. After the interlude, "Everything's a Shade of Green," is thealbum's finger-snapping 1950's doo-wop tribute, but after this point,the styles become less clearly distinguishable. Songs like the vocal(but lyric-less) "Visit to Venus," and the endearing "Will There BeYodeling in Heaven" are possibly two of the most optimistic songs I'veheard in a long while, and with what sounds like toy xylophones,Hawaiian guitar, nose holding and a parade of sound effects samples,the music appropriately backs up the lyrical optimism. "The InventedPart of the World" is oddly remeniscent of very, very early LPDcassette-only recordings, "What Do You Take Me For" could easily be anundiscovered gem, as a future outtake of one of thoseadult-contemporary songs from the 1970s piped through the loudspeakersat drug stores, and songs like "Let's Get Rid of Richard," and "TheAnti-Beard Song (Go Go Goatee)" push the humor card a bit too far formy tastes, but I'm sure can easily become mega indie radio hits. "ILike What You Like," however, is so irresistably sweet, moms all overthe world should take a hint. Perhaps if mothers sang their children tosleep at night, there might be less bitterness in the world. There ishope. This album is evidence.
Eric Idle was on the Daily Show last week and he said something thatstuck with me: "Everybody from Leicester is a bit weird." Of course hewas saying this in reference to his dear friend, the late GrahamChapman, but it can probably easily be applied to Volcano the Bear (andmost likely a number of people from Leicester), as their music is,well, a bit weird. In addition, Vocano the Bear's music is also (notunlike Mr. Chapman) both very charming and witty. Fellow bear, DanielPadden's first solo release actually doesn't come without the help ofother Volcano members and additional friends. As weird as theinstrumentation can get—with kazoos, ballophon, and otherunidentifiable sounds—the music on this disc is stunningly pleasant.Padden's solo debut is a very closely knit aural tapestry of dreamlikeproportions, with off-the-cuff sung vocal tracks, string pieces, andpiano tinklings. While it's still heavily-rooted in experimental andimprovisational music, these are all songs with well-craftedstructures, often with a loop (piano, clarinet, percussion) beginningthe song, and an exceptionally played instrument taking the lead.Whether it's the drone from an accordion-ish sounding instrument on"Scratch Apparatus," the pretty vocals on "Fledgling," or a twistedcalliope-like circus sounds of "Spiders on Ice," not one song on heresounds like a failed attempt at composition. With a growing number ofimprovisational musicians and groups popping up, occasionally gainingmore attention than deserved, it's an extra special treat to havesomebody around who can still write a coherent song and piece togethera well thought-out album. More solo and side projects from the Bearsare due later on this year and I'll be anxious to hear them all. 
I first met Amanda Palmer eight years ago. After seeing her firstperform at piano in her parents house with a small crowd gatheredaround, I knew she could be a star. After seeing the Dolls perform justover a week ago, I was completely wrong. Amanda Palmer is beyondpotential star, she is the next rock and roll savior. It didn't comewithout the addition of a fantastic drummer she found in BrianViglione. After years of seeing Palmer play solo, the change iscompletely evident as the crowds are now staggering (a sold outcapacity of Middle East downstairs is 575 people and their show waspretty damned close), many of which are singing along and rolling inthe joy. A full-length record is now in its final stages beforerelease, but until then, this CD is a perfect way to catch up on thebest of the last couple years. It consists of 11 popular crowdfavorites, recorded in concert venues both large and small, rehearsalspaces, and radio station studios. Palmer doesn't simply play thepiano, she makes it her bitch, and Viglione's drum work is tactfullyrefined and carefully reserved, playing off Palmer's tight-stopping andsassy cues which change their mind like the most stereotypical womanwould demand you to allow. The songs are always entertaining, farbeyond expectation in every way, both in their off-kilter rhythmicmotives and peculiar subject matter, owing as much to theatricalcabaret-type tunes as to the Pink Dots. Sure, she sings about love, butI'm sure these songs are all purely fiction from the mind of a dreamerwho sleeps with a notepad by the bed. "Bank of Boston Beauty Queen" isan autobiographical reflection on growing up a goth teen, "ChristopherLydon" is the story of Palmer's obsession with a former local NPRcelebrity, and the deep, direct power of "Will," with strings added issensationally appetite-wetting for the full-length record (especiallywith the lyric, "I don't mind if you read while I'm coming!"). As thisdisc collects recordings from a number of sources, the sound is,expectedly inconsistent, but fear not, this will be a much sought afteritem in the years to come.
This disc is the perfect accompaniment to the cold greyness of latewinter. The music, low frequency drones fading slowly in and out, overa consistent, gentle rumbling, and the packaging, adorned with antiquemaps of the Arctic, suggest exploration of desolate, frozen expansesdescribed by the title (which translates to Unexplored Area). Thelayers of sounds move so unhurriedly that they are reassuringlypeaceful, despite their frigid bleakness and vaguely ominous tonality.What is striking about this recording is that Köner, in addition to hisexcellent usage of sonic color; and texture, displays a very musicalsensibility; the phrasing and pitches of the drifting bass tones hintat melody, albeit a glacial one. Throughout the two parts of thiscomposition, the rumbling is joined at times by what sounds like an icywind, and Köner also employs a heavily filtered noisy source, subtlyshifting to resemble radio crackle, distant aircraft, and a strongrain. Apparently, much of this originated as a recording of a projectorshowing a piece of dusty, blank 16mm film; this fits well with thearchaic isolationism at the core of Köner's work. Though the piece isquite languid and pretty static, the sounds are so deep that this isnot a negative criticism. The third track—a bonus that was added tothis CD reissue of the original picture LP release—is from a videosoundtrack contribution. The music is similar in style to the previousparts but is much simpler and sparser, although it contains someadditional instrumentation in the form of mellow synthesizer-likesounds and reverb-heavy squeaking. The voice of what must be theprotagonist in the film narrates letters to another character in whichshe discusses light, darkness, space, and distance. While it isrelatively unobtrusive and fits the existential mood, outside thecontext of the video, I find the dialogue a little distracting andprefer the first two tracks. The main part of this album far exceededmy expectations; and in spite of, or perhaps because of, its coldemptiness, it really creates an appealing atmosphere.
With a name like Kling Klang you might expect a band to have some sympathies with a very famous seminal German band. This would be a fair assumption, and whilst Kling Klang prefer to look the part of kids from seventies Brit sit coms rather than showroom dummies, they are so deeply rooted in Kraftwerk and Neu! homage that it'd be painful if they weren't so damn good.
What they add to the mix are full on rock dynamics, largely courtesy of their puffing Chris Cutler-clone drummer Ali McDonald. First time I witnessed their triumphant analog synth fanfares they were supporting Trans Am in a sold out hometown Liverpool show which head Klangster Joe McLaughlin promoted. It was a tough act for Trans Am to follow. Since then they've rolled out the synth banks to Manchester a couple of times and been a hoot each time. Whilst at least one detractor was heard to mutter curses about Yes at their show last week at The Brown Barrel, a much better comparison was Kraftwerk meets Metallica, which still sells them short as comparisons so often do. The Superposition is their third EP, following two collectible seven inches and a few compilation appearances. It's also by far their best, and the opening track "Heavydale" is the one where Joe whips out his old guitar and rocks out plenty. "Superposition 1+2" is a droning and rumbling underground radioactive trashtrain ride, but a rhythmic pop sensibility is never abandoned. "Radium" is a pure orange sunburst of uplifting timewarped splendor, strangely Elizabethan keyboard chops suggesting the score that a babbling gaggle of monkeys wrote for a Shakespeare play conspiracy. Wherefore art thou, babyface? What Kling Klang achieve is a melding of musics that thirty years ago might well have seemed to have been in opposition. Perhaps with tongues in cheeks, they call themselves Kraut punks, and gleefully trash any last wall between prog and punk, two genres which never were as mutually exclusive as some fusty purists would like us to believe. This has been far and away my most listened to single from the first two months of 2003. Mogwai have asked Kling Klang to open for them on their upcoming UK tour, so be sure to get to the shows early! 
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Some albums are growers, taking time to work their magic on your mind,however every so often something hits you immediately, hitting all theright switches in you and demanding your rapt attention. With Magnolia Electric Co,Jason Molina's Songs: Ohia had me instantly spellbound. The album openswith "Farewell Transmission," a jaw dropping, eye widening,seven-minute song that is completely epic. The haunting, choral chantof "long dark blues" hints at what we should expect to come. It's thekind of song that's meant to close an album, not begin one, and sets aremarkably high bar for the following tracks. Thankfully, the materialthat follows is every bit as impressive, delving into those dark bluesbut also achieving moments of euphoric bliss. Recorded live to tapewith a ten piece band, the songs on Magnolia Electric Co. echothe folk rock of Neil Young's 'Harvest,' with Molina emerging as agifted, versatile songwriter. His lyrics express desire, longing, andhope with fantastic imagery made even more potent by the warm,soulfularrangements. Molina's vocals are bolstered by the sonorous backupvocals of Jennie Benford, which raise the chorus of "Just Be Simple" toan amazing high. Molina steps back from vocals a few times on thealbum, allowing Lawrence Peters to lend his deep, rugged voice to "TheOld Black Hen," making it sound straight out of Nashville's golden age.Magnolia Electric Co. reaches its emotional peak on 'John HenrySplit My Heart' which completely cuts loose, the band rocking at itshardest and tearing through as Molina reprises his chant of "long darkblues" tying the theme together at the highest moment of intensity. Theclosing coda of "Hold On, Magnolia" takes the album to a gentle andsatisfying conclusion that still makes you want to listen all the waythrough again immediately. A limited run of the album includes ninedemo tracks of the songs that went on to become Magnolia Electric Co.giving a fascinating look into Molina's process, as well as the addedbonus of tracks and verses that were left behind. Songs: Ohia havecrafted a masterpiece that is guaranteed to dazzle, its melodiesinscribing themselves in your mind and urging you to sing along. Don'tresist.
The world's loudest genre-defiant drum and bass duo from Providence,Rhode Island have returned with possibly one of their most danceflooraccessible records ever. In perhaps a tribute, or a response to recentmovements to make rock music more dancable (or a clever ploy to woomore female dyed-black hair fans), Wonderful Rainbowis an assault of pure energy. The duo, however, will never be foundhigh up on a stage while a crowd dances below, as they prefer to playon floors exclusively, entirely surrounded in a sweaty, claustrophobic,smelly pit which feeds the super-charged sludge which is feverishlylovable. The album is broken into essentially two sides, and whilethere are about five songs each side, there's honestly no space bigenough to stop for a breath of fresh air. This album is a completerush. Songs like "On Fire" feature the hot-tempered drum and basssynergy of fast starts and stops while the album's closer, "Duel in theDeep" is very early 1990's post-industrial/big-beat remeniscent in itsapproach. Be warned, however, as by the time the pulsating beats of thefourth song, "2 Towers" take over, all senses of reality are completelydistorted. Drivers might want to not play this album when there's anyremote possibility of being pulled over for speeding. It's hard toconceive that these two down-to-earth guys are being clever, deceptive,or ironic, but there's some inexplicable magical sonic happenings whenthe thunderous repetitious pounding of the bass guitar and bass drumcollide at these intervals, almost like the negative images seen onlyfor a brief millisecond when eyes close. Maybe I just don't know enoughabout psycho acoustics to truly explain it, but it's something thattruly must be experienced first-hand to believe. 
Having both inspired and surfed the murky wave of the electroclashmovement (as well as breaking acts like Zombie Nation, Fischerspooner,and Tiga & Zyntherius along the way) International Deejay Gigoloslabel head DJ Hell claims to be looking towards the future. That beingsaid, Electronicbody-Housemusiccertainly seems to be mired down in the same old retro mold that madeDJ Hell famous in the first place. Disc one of this two CD set offersselections that teeter between electropop and tech-house, opening withquality material from heroes Underground Resistance and Metro Area.From here, however, the boredom sets in. Though there are a few momentswhere you think things might very well pick up again (in particular,Playgroup's cover of the Depeche Mode classic "Behind The Wheel"), thebulk of this disc reeks of the monotone trash that has turned thisretro trend from a nice idea to a gaping void of talentless snobs andposturing fashionistas. For every enjoyable and catchy electroclashtrack, there are at least a hundred pretentious and awful ones. Here,DJ Hell has opted to pick from the latter batch. While the first CDultimately failed to move me, the second disc nearly sent me into ablind fury. Here is a playlist of popular EBM tracks from the 80'srepackaged alongside a bizarre selection of techno and somewhat darkelectroclash cuts. Now how is it that DJ Hell, who resides in a countrywhere industrial music charts on the DAC, could be so completelyignorant of the music from this past decade of the genre? Is it thathe's trying to be nostalgic of his younger years? Even the two NitzerEbb tracks here were remixed recently ("Control I'm Here" by The Hackerand "Join In The Chant" by Thomas Heckmann) and he chooses not to evengive those a try here. Being an industrial DJ myself, it is my strongfeeling that he has absolutely no excuse for throwing together thissloppy "greatest hits" type collection with mediocre mixing (Traktor,anyone?) and expect to receive any respect from those who have beenmoving with the genre and its many splinters over the years. In anycase, retro-loving scenesters and trend vampires will adore hearingsuch tracks as Jay Harker's dismal cover of the gothic classic "BelaLugosi's Dead" while probably skipping through the pioneering "LoveCuts" by the woefully underrated Chris And Cosey. Can't everyone justgo back to listening to crappy rock bands and Austrian interpretationsof soul? 
Sometimes you have to cut some of your own flesh away to make things better. Debridement,the word that serves as the title for Nathan Amundson's new album asRivulets, is defined as "the surgical removal of lacerated,devitalized, or contaminated tissue." Since Amundson is the onlypermanent member of Rivulets, he must be cutting away another piece ofhimself to give us this new record, shedding his skin as it were, asthere's no one else to sacrifice. With more sparse arrangements than onthe debut full-length, Amundson concocts some chilling work thatconstantly had me checking under the bed for monsters. I needn't havelooked any further than my speakers. Each song has its own spirits, itsown ghosts or creatures, that Amundson breathes to life with his shydelivery and somber tones. As before, the album is recorded and mixedby Alan Sparhawk, who also makes appearances on a few songs. Also inthe studio was Jessica Bailiff, whose voice breathes pure ice into thesongs she caresses. Like last year's Alcohol EPs, the album hasa bit of a theme going for it with the release of all things evil anddark, or just leaving it all behind. "An Evil" is just Amundson acapella, but that's all it really needs to penetrate your psyche;"Cutter" leaves nothing to the imagination with its vocal refrain of "Ibrought the blade to my skin;" "Bridges" could be about finding commonground, but it feels like finally building the device that aids in yourescape; and "Conversation With a Half-empty Bottle" has an obviousimplications all its own, as a person comes to terms with their onlyfriend, and the one that they won't let destroy them. There's little tono percussion to be found on the entire record, which is part of whatmakes it so compelling. The snare on "Shakes" is spooky not only forthe way it's played but for its mere appearance. By the time I heard"Get Out Alive," I was glad made it out, and I hoped the singer did,too. Amundson continues to open his own scars for all to see, and itgets better each time. I just hope it doesn't damage him too much todredge it all up.
Neil Wiernik's third full length album is playful with an overall calmatmosphere, despite what the murky title suggests. The mood of theearly morning hours is perfectly captured, as different layers of soundin a steady flow match the various tones of shades. Silhouette-likestructures appear hazy at first glance but slowly come into shape asthe mind focuses on them. Besides the album's brilliant opener,"Brittle Sticks," which features a casual female vocal, all otherpieces are purely electronic instrumentals. Tracks 2-5 run in acontinuous flow, giving the impression of a live in-studio recording.Following that, "Post Shifting Ground" is a remix of the preceding"Shifting Ground Water." The early 80's beat box rim shot sound ispushed even more in the forefront but before it get's really disturbingit suddenly ends. In this abrupt silence, NAW places the straightforward "Two A.M. Overcast," which is undoubtedly another high pointbefore "Foggy Autumn Dawn" closes the album in the tradition of classicBasic Channel 12" B-Sides. The double finale leaves me with a wish formore, and thus repeated plays are irresistable. While I usually preferalbums to be longer, 40 minutes of quality is always more desirablethan an album with lots of filler.
