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 is a soundtrack to a movie that doesn't exist. It's a movie filledwith adventure, romance, and regret as swashbuckling privateers sailthe seven seas, coming to port just long enough to break a few heartsand make a few mistakes. The sailor's life is at once glorified, as in"Jean Lafitte," a rollicking sing-a-long sea shanty wherein the titlecharacter spins yarns about his eventful life as a sailor, and alsolamented. "Go Home," asks "Where do you go when it's closing in onsupper time," already knowing the answer when it responds "Wrap yourthings inside your rag and go." The sea serves as both an escape and aprison, as the sailor of "Streets of Marseilles," running from apainful heartbreak, finds himself shanghaied and regretting the actionsthat led to the sea, and his fate. Puerto Muerto captures the essenceof these tales with spare instrumentation, heavy drums and a staccatostrummed acoustic guitar that add a depth and darkness to the sound.Husband and wife Tim Kelley and Christa Meyer share vocal duties,bringing to their respective songs their own nuances that make themspecial. These are folk ballads, meant to be shared and spread as faras they can go, through every port you pass through. The joyous energyand sorrowful emotion of these songs are absolutely entrancing, seizingon childhood fantasies of adventure while touching on the sad realitiesof a wanderer's life. Your Bloated Corpse... will have you piecing the scenes to that nonexistent movie together in your imagination.
I've always liked Pigface and, often, loved them because of the thingsthat set them apart from the legions of look-a-like and sound-a-likeindustrial-rock clones: a forever fluid membership (including manyfemales), variety, groove and an actual sense of humor.Drummer/producer Martin Atkins is rightfully proud of his 12-year-oldbaby—an unruly child with multiple personality disorder—and this timearound there's over 40 others, old and new, helping him feed, diaperand discipline it. All of the 13 tracks are restrained to the three- tofour-minute range (only one exceeds five minutes) and I can't help butnotice that most of the ones I dislike are the ones in which Atkins hasno writing credit. Even though there aren't really rules as to what isand what isn't "Pigface", about half of this album is run-of-the-millor out of place and just doesn't feel like Pigface to me.
In the years between this collection being first announced until thetime of its release (this past week), almost anybody could haveprobably tracked down the out of print recordings contained herein.With that in mind, I can't deny that I'm somewhat jaded about therelease before even possessing it. Now that it's in my hands, I'mrelieved to finally have it, excited as a longtime fan, but stillsomewhat put off by its posturing as an EP collection, as it neglectssome songs from the original EPs and was arranged in a nonsensicalrandom order. On the surface, Mouse On Mars have always appeared to benonsensical (just pick up any album of theirs and look at the songtitles!). However, the music has always been cold-calculated, withstrong tendencies to avoid the trends that have come and gone sincethey started releasing music back in 1994. For this, the duo of Tomaand St. Werner have perpetually remained ahead of the curve. They couldhave easily jumped on bandwagons of drum 'n bass or glitch, but as thetrends became more minimal, more was added to their sound. They heldtheir ground with music that was always dancable and rich withcaptivating melodies and unique sounds from song to song. Starting in1994 with the FroschEP, the duo are clearly observably unwilling to accept pre-packagedpreset sounds and pre-programmed beats. While appearing on compilationslike Trance Europe ExpressBib EP, with songs like "Selektron," slower than what they were used to doing before, but never dull at any point. By 1997's Cache Coeur NaifEP, the band has kept the beat intact, bottomed it out with arump-shaking intensity, added the vocals of Stereolab's LaetitiaSadier, and found a way to mangle original sounds of guitars and basickeyboards beyond original recognition while still maintaining a sexycatchiness. If this isn't considered intelligent dance music, then Idon't know what to think. With the most recent recording on this discnow six years old, the music has held up amazingly well compared to themusic of many of MoM's contemporaries.
With his band Kinski, guitarist Chris Martin engages in noisy,concussive, and layered rock that dwarves most standard rock with itsmassive weight and intensity. Under his solo moniker, Ampbuzz, Martintakes the spirit of his Kinski work and uses it to create a patient,meditative album that is every bit as intricate and powerful. As soonas the opening track "Bubbles" begins, it is clear that This is My Ampbuzzis thematically centered around ocean imagery, and the shifting droneof the album evokes this concept perfectly. Not a single element seemstagged on; every buzz, layer, and loop seems to reinforce the dark,fluid tone of the album. "Center for Clouds" begins with a deep rushinglike water against your eardrums, then builds around an ebbing two notebass line that's surrounded by static gusts and washes, giving thesensation of bobbing up and down in ocean waves. "Soft Currency"follows with a shimmering drone that is interrupted by a frothing,churning noise that sounds like a struggling scuba diver's regulator ora fish tank filter's last gasp. "Diving Instructions" is a sustained,foreboding track full of reversed cymbal hits and sonic jetsam thatleads into the panic pulse of "Welcome to the Ocean Floor." The descentis complete, and a deep, resonant buzz overtakes the scene. It'sdisorienting and unsettling, as the sound moans and oscillates just outof sight. The final track, "Underwater Bomb," doesn't explode into afury, but instead releases the built up tension of the precedingpieces. This is My Ampbuzz is a fully-rendered, fully-realizedlistening experience that manages to vividly capture an image, from theglistening beauty of the surface to the chilling, claustrophobicdepths. 
Those captivated by the skeezy sound of the Gary Wilson are in for atreat, as enough songs have been uncovered for a second album ofmaterial previously unavailable on compact disc. For those who don'thave last year's awesome reissue of You Think You Really Know Me,Wilson was man who simply wasn't afraid to say exactly what's on hismind, and it's mostly about trying to get into a girl's pants.Unsurprisingly, this context is backed by the sound of when low budgetporn and Christmas decorations crash in a tavern with upturnedbarstools and regulars passed out in their own cigarette ashes. Theresult is actually amazingly catchy, with slick bass riffs, cleverdrumming and the piano and keyboard work of a dedicated talent. Thisdisc collects a variety of scarce singles and B-sides, and aged demos,with loads of pictures and detailed accounts of the years, places andthe age of Wilson when the tunes were recorded. Included are a fewinstrumental soundtracky jazz jams, like the brilliant "AnotherGalaxy," to adventurous, stream-of-consciouness tunes like "You Took MeOn a Walk Into My Mirror." This would never have been a follow-up tohis other album, originally released in 1978, but, as the titlesuggests, a selection of songs for numerous love desires, longforgotten over time. Judging from the liner notes and story aboutWilson returning to his parents home last year, there's still morestuff yet to resurface. I'm completely hooked and will certainly bewaiting. - 
Austrian label Laton together with Vienna-based journalist's collectiveRedaktionsbuero have put out this thirteen track compilation ofelectronic music packaged together with a sort of tabloid publicationcontaining 12 pages of text relating to the music and two poster-sizedx-ray images of electronic equipment. The CD includes contributionsfrom Benzo, Pan Sonic, Pomassl, Fon, Alva Noto, Alexei Borisov,Thilges3, Auxpan, Terre Thaemlitz, Mira Calix, Udo Wid, Tommi Grönlund& Petteri Nisunen, and CM von Hausswolff. The presentation makes itclear that the paper document is to be taken at least as seriously asthe digital one. At first I was pleased with the whole thing: it's anice size, has something to read and some nice pictures bigger eventhan in a gatefold LP. However, with the exception of Alexej Borisov'sinteresting account of the Russian music scene, the essays are verydisappointing—variously banal, vacuous and old ideas dressed up inirritatingly self-aggrandizing language. The CD itself is a mixed bagand as such the high points stand out. Pan Sonic provide a powerful,visceral layering of hum and buzz; Noto's piece is a haunting,throbbing soundscape ornamented with pretty electro-gestures drenchedin reverb; and Thaemlitz's fascinating composition combines trashylooped disco samples with potently inhuman synthetic sounds, machinenoises and calculated sequences that make a dramatic and disturbingcontrast with the pop music backdrop. For me, it functions as a rathereffective indictment of the easy—and vaguely cowardly—abstraction ofsome of the music on this CD and so popular now elsewhere. Too much ofthe rest of the music relies on hackneyed, clicky rhythmicconstructions or on conventional forms executed with insufficient tasteor skill. I suspect that the musicians are less to blame for this thanthe compilers since for some of them we know that in other contextstheir music can be of value. The stand out winner for me is the threeminute "Til," by young Icelandic newcomer Elvar Már Kjartans akaAuxpan. Sounding a bit like "Kytkenta - Connection," from Vainio's KajaCD, it is a beautiful ripping noise, evoking the power of electricityto move, burn and destroy. This is one of those extremely rare andexceptional pieces of music that is so satisfying that it can turn yourday around. 
The title track of this three-song EP makes for an awesome continuation of the crisp, groove-driven compositions of 2002's Every Day,which incorporated a full live band rather than relying as heavily onsampled rhythm sections and re-mixing as previous releases. The upbeatand lyrically positive Horizon features the soulful singing ofNiara Scarlett (who also co-wrote the tune) backed by the group'sdriving, latin-jazz inspired rhythm section. Voiced mainly by a Rhodespiano, the band's grooves shift comfortably and dig deep throughoutdifferent sections of the tune. "Oregon" features the duo of bandleader J. Swinscoe and saxophonist Tom Chant for a composition whichoriginates as a sombre, repetitive chord progression from the keyboardthat builds into multiple layers of soprano sax, bass clarinet andwhirring electronic effects. Closing out the EP, and taking up theentire second side if you get the vinyl, is the six-and-a-half minutePatrick Carpenter (aka PC/Mr. P) re-mix, "Evolution II," which uses theoutstanding Fontella Bass vocal track from "Evolution" as its center.Opening with some spacious string swells and drones, the tune kicksinto a burning, jazzy groove to back the vocals and eventually draw ina slightly distorted sub-bass line to fill it all out. Carpenter'skeyboards and re-mixing have the vocals sounding even better in thiscontext than in the notable original. This EP is well worth hearing,even for this track alone. 
Pele have always produced instrumental music that stuns and impresses, their live shows are never to be missed, and 2000's The Nudeswas a solid record with practiced musicianship and quality melodies.They're also incredibly autonomous, as guitarist Chris Rosenau is atalented recording engineer, so they can record anywhere with littlefuss. Their music is also quite feral in nature, as though it is a wildanimal that needs taming. Pele don't make music, they attack it, andthe story is no different on Enemies. In fact, they've steppedup the violence and are going for broke. These songs have a psychoticenergy, a fervor, that drives them along at a breakneck pace but alsohas the good sense to take a break now and then. The lineup is the sameas The Nudes with one very nice addition in Jon Minor oncomputer. His contributions are what really make this album shine, asthe strange voices and wirey noises give this music a new edge on theold blade. Rosenau's guitar has a fairly similar tone to the one it'shad previously, and the band is as cohesive as ever, even with thestrangeness of Minor's contributions. "Crisis Win" opens the album withJon Mueller's manic drumming and hand claps, and just unleashes on theears for a full eight minutes. Elsewhere, "Hooves" and "HospitalSports" show a new ambient Pele, with Minor's computer talents at theforefront. The energy is what makes their music so compelling, though,as when it returns on "Hummingbirds Eat," you can't help but crank thevolume and get moving. "Cooking Light," a nine-minute shuffle closesthe album, and captures the beautiful improvisation of the band at itsbest. This album is an old friend, a warm blanket, the glove that fitsevery time. With Minor, Pele is a new and brave band with a lot ofground to cover. 
While the latest release on Chemikal Underground is from a small groupof loud Glaswegans with soft tendencies, it bears a very importantdisclaimer that "this album does not feature members of any bands whoare more successful than we are." The group should need no referencepoint aside from themselves by this time, as their first album, 2001's A Story in Whitewas easily one of the best rock albums that year that most people neverheard. If there are any expectations, Aereogramme have nobody to blamebut themselves. Once again, the album opens with a raucous thud,"Indescretion #243," where the band firmly grabs your attention fromwherever it is with distorted guitars, loud drums, and vocals fromsinger/guitarist Craig B as fiery as his Scottish red hair. Notentirely unlike the opener from the last, it's not an entirelymemorable tune but it sure infectioulsly takes hostage of the psycheand stops all trains of thought. "Now that we've got your attention,let's give you something wonderful,..." is their familiar motive. Likeone of my favorite songs from 2001, "Post Tour Pre Judgement," the bandproceeds onwards with the second tune, "Black Path," which could easilybe one of the most fantastic songs currently out. It's through thisthat the band introduces their softer side without being any lessbombastic. Here, bells, strings, and special effects all add to thegrandeur of this humble quartet with stadium rock pipe dreams in a songstill tougher than any hair band ballad. While the experimentation withelectronics, fancy-schmantzy time signature changes, odd answeringmachine messages, and strings continues along with the occasionalscreams and quiet breakdowns throughout the record, I'm sadly leftthinking most of this album is technique over substance. While theirability and skills (both in performance and production) have becomenoticably stronger, I'm aching for some of the catchier songs like"Hatred," that would get stuck in my head days after hearing it. Notfor one minute is this album predictable. From the synthetic rhythms of"A Simple Process of Elimination," to the deceptively thrash opening of"Older," there's always an element of mystery as to what's lurkingaround the corner. This is somewhat refreshing for somebody who getsbored easily, but, adversely, can be hard to really get a full grip on,making the songs more difficult to really sink in. Songs like thealbum's other power ballad, "In Gratitude," really break through likeblinding rays of sunshine after a murky, tumultuous thunderstorm, butin the end, I think I'd choose to be more patient for a bettercollection of deeper songs that don't always sound like a thrash bandtrying to see how many wall hangings they can vibrate. Don't get mewrong, there isn't a low point on this album anywhere, but perhaps Imight have just expected something different. They will be touringagain in the next couple months and after seeing them three times onthe support of the last album, I can't recommend the live show enough.(Additional note: music videos are still available to view at thelabels' web sites.) - 
It's hard to talk about this album without referring back to thephenomenal track from 2001, "(This is the Dream of) Evan and Chan" byDntel, as that was the first collaboration between Death Cab forCutie's singer Ben Gibbard and Jimmy Tamborello, the one-man powerhousebehind Dntel. This was possibly one of my favorite songs from one of myfavorite albums of 2001, where chaos and mayhem was tied together by afrail, unobtrusive voice, quietly singing an almost nonsensical cartoonstory. Naturally, this type of collaboration, which yielded results noless than monumental, opened the opportunity for future works betweenthe two entities with potentially similar results. The end result,however, this disc, has got to be one of the weakest pieces ofelectronic dribble since Anything Box. I swear, I've heard numerousrougher, tougher, more ballsy recordings from other electronic maleduos like the Pet Shop Boys, Soft Cell, and Electronic. Even Erasuresounds like a mannish testosterone-fuelled rockhouse compared to ThePostal Service! Whereas Tamborello's music as Dntel was clearly notwritten for the sole purpose of being the backdrop of vocals, it wasnot dependent on a singer, the music could have clearly stood alone.The disjunct rhythms, distorted sounds and unpredictable melodies whichcommanded attention are all completely gone and forgotten, as the musichere sounds like a half-assed attempt to make lame pop ditties. Themelodies are dull and unchallenging, whipped together with presetkeyboard sounds and only a minimal amount of thought put intoarrangement. Gibbard's vocals certainly don't help much, as by thethird track I'm feeling nauseous. The addition of female vocals seemsboth pointless and generic as girls (ironically each named Jennifer)don't usually take the opportunity to harmonize, but simply sing thesame notes as Gibbard, only an octave higher. The album's titlecouldn't be more appropriate, as the two could have easily madesomething incredible, but in the end, decided to simply give up. 
After concentrating on other projects for most of last year including film soundtracks, remixes and sessions for other artists such as Tori Amos and Afro Celt Sound System, Wobble returns with a new solo album on his own label. Perhaps it's too solo.
Fly begins promising enough as a few of the (unimaginatively numbered) tracks float Harry Beckett's mildly effected muted trumpet over a typically massive bass guitar groove and programmed beats, three being especially jazzy. "Two" is a solid, up-tempo pop number if you don't pay too close attention to Wobble's daft, half sung lyrics and concentrate instead on the driving bass and backdrop wails of trance veteran Cat Von-Trapp. But from here things get surprisingly bland, first with a soundtrack-like mid-section. Sandwiched between the aimless organ and piano progressions of tracks "Four" and "Six" is an inane spoken story, a near eight minute waste of space that won't stand-up to repeated listening. "Seven" brings the bass and beat back but some synth, pipes and flutes do little to spice up the rhythm. "Nine" reclaims the glory with a bouncy bass line, recalling classic Public Image a bit, and supple sax layers by Charlotte Glasson. The finale simply retreads the vibe of track one for a tedious nine and a half minutes. Altogether, Fly lacks purpose, focus and flavor. Wobble fares better in full-fledged collaborations like Shout At The Devil, with Temple of Sound, Passage to Hades, with Evan Parker and Molam Dub, with Molam Lao, not to mention his short-lived stint in The Damage Manual.
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