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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On 'Kicker in Tow,' Hangedup explore territory stylistically similar to their excellent self-titled debut, but the viola and percussion duo is even more finely tuned and powerfully compelling this time, making this a wonderful album. They play repetitive but lively rock music with clear minimalism and folk influences, and the nine songs on this record are a blend of well-executed improvised and composed pieces.Constellation
The opening track "Kinetic Work" is an incredibly catchy song that's mobilized by Eric Craven's rather unique "locomotive" drumming style and Genevieve Heistek's kinetic, stacatto viola playing. Though the instrumentation remains pretty constant throughout the album, it never grows tiresome as the duo push their instruments to the limit. On improvised tracks like "Sink" they work well together; the viola doesn't lose sight of its beautiful melodic progression while interacting with the borderline free drumming. There are a few shorter, more abstract, improvisations that explore ringing mechanical tones; the engine/machine metaphor that appears throughout the titles and packaging is an apt description of the band's sound and style. "No More Bad Future" is an epic standout track; it starts with some quiet viola and metal scraping and then builds as various percussive elements enter, eventually forming into an infectous melody. Then it quiets down, leaving just some ringing percussion, but soon the full instrumentation returns and the song gets even louder and livelier as it barrels on. 'Kicker in Tow' is hypnotic but invigorating, and it looks like it'll be one of my favorite rock albums of the year.
After releasing three singles on SharkAttack! and providing very little information about themselves, Charlene release their eponymous debut full-length. While the singles were simple, sparse, and often brief, these recordings feature a denser sound, with more instruments and a clear evolution in production.
These songs also feature a burbling energy, kept just beneath the surface, that often breaks through and shows itself off. On the first track, "Ripoff," Charlene seem to be on a crusade to change perceptions and preconceptions about their previous output, as they groove their way through a fairly uptempo shuffle with competance.
Here is a Charlene that is neither spacey nor droney. The vocals are still a bit drowned in the mix, but Charlene seem more confident this time around, and the harmonies on several tracks are gorgeous, as always. Electronic instruments flourish throughout the entire album, which add a sincerity and depth that was hinted at before but never quite achieved. Charlene have come a long way from their early recordings to this fine display. There are longer tracks here, as well, that blister and crack as well as introduce a playful side to the band with xylophones and coquettish lyrics that name check Mazzy Star. The untitled fifth track is noise rock beauty, charming throughout until it buzzes away. Ultimately, Charlene prove all over this release that they are making brave, vital, original music that few can touch or even approach. Their grasp of melody is uncanny, their growth to this point apparent, and their success imminent.
Release / Subarachnoid Space Terrastock 5 was an outrageous weekend-long nostalgia fest. By the evening of Sunday I'd really had enough of musty old psychedelic rock. The day had been disappointing. I was mostly hanging out at the bar, happy for any distraction from the music that came my way when suddenly, in the middle of it all, SubArachnoid Space made my day. They punched through all the dross, chatter, space and bodies and captivated my attention. At last, here was the prog rock aesthetic demonstrating its superior durability by sweeping away all the psych cobwebs of the weekend. Despite some technical issues, their sound was excellent—very loud but tight, punchy and clear. The first rate drumming, which reminded me of Police-era Stuart Copeland and of Trans Am's second album, combined with massive wedges of bass (sufficient to cause a perceptible draft) to lay down the groove while ingenious guitar figures and washes filled out the well delineated compositions. This was so good that, in a guilty, devil-may-care frame of mind, I broke the terms of my unemployment and bought a couple of their CDs. The first, "These Things Take Time" on Release was recorded live at KFJC in Silicon Valley in 1999 and the second "Play Nice" is a self-released 2002 tour CDR comprising bootleg-quality recordings from rehearsals and concerts. To be candid, if SubArachnoid had played like they did on these CDs in their T5 set, I wouldn't have bought any CDs. "Play Nice" holds some of live set's powers (check the samples) but overall the material is, unfortunately, much more psych than it is prog. While SubArachnoid's set at T5 was (blessedly) on the fringes, the music on these CDs would have been right in the middle of the T5 spectrum, almost definitive: lugubrious noodling jams with lashings of space echo on the guitar — pleasant enough in their own right, sometimes breaking the barrier into interesting, a long way from being enthralling and almost memorable. The good news is that SubArachnoid Space are working on a new album.
ITN Corporation Most of the time, the original material from twin brothers Klive and Nigel Humberstone (with the occasional help of Dolores C. on vocals) is as close to perfection as possible: dream-like neo-romanticism with classical elements, passionate and sometimes even a bit too ethereal for the 'real world'. It's the kind of music to cherish for special moments which come less frequently as this music deserves. I was curious when I first heard about this remix project. Remix participants were all invited by ITN, themselves. Most of the artists are of a younger generation (Flesh Field, Assemblage 23, Ivan Lusco, Haujobb, Seize, Faith & The Muse, Chandeen, Steve Bennet, Electronicum, and A_Robot) while only two are fellow contemporaries (And Also The Trees and Attrition). These aren't very obvious choices at first glance but all of them treated the original songs in a very careful and respectful manner. The beats are most obviously reworked in almost all cases. Flesh Field's Ian Ross lays a driving beat under "A Rebours (Against Nature)" as does Ivan Lusco on "El Secreto (It)," while Assemblage 23 get a bit housey. Justin Jones from AATT replaces haunting electronic sequences with his own trademark guitar style on "Corruption (Sister And Brother)." A_Robot and Faith & The Muse add their own voices to their contributions but keep conservatively close to the original In The Nursery style. Attrition's pick of the secret hymn, "To The Faithful," is characteristic for their dramatic style and with their version, "To The Faithful (In Remembrance)," they nearly take the greatest side-step from remix to re-interpretation, only outmatched by the final drum and bass dancefloor mix of "Caprice (Levity)" by Seize. Nearly all of the tracks (with only one exception, "And Your Eyes") were selected from recent albums, from 1990's 'L'Esprit' through last years 'Engel,' thus excluding their 1980s work. As bonus, however (and maybe a reference to their own starting point), ITN include their interpretation of "Love Will Tear Us Apart," produced with a similar aesthetic as the rest of the disc's remixes and featuring a live drummer and professional oboe player. The fact that 'Cause + Effect' can stand up to the beautiful standards of nearly all ITN output makes this remix project a great success.
Planet Mu When most music snobs think of the word album, they tend to discount the concept of the compilation (in comparison to the release of a full-length recording of new material). In actuality, all full-length albums are compilations themselves of thoughts and ideas which materialize as audio compositions. While Keith Fullerton Whitman has never recorded and released a full-length album as Hrvatski, listening to his second compilation is much like going through somebody's personal photo album with the brief little captions underneath each picture. "Here I am restructuring a Kid 606 track you've all heard," "this one was taken in the hallway of an apartment building," "here I am doing a Rolling Stones tribute," and thankfully each snapshot is enjoyable. For 'Swarm and Dither,' the whole story isn't even close to being completed—this isn't to be regarded as an anthology or a definitive collection, however it does make for a great collection of the finer moments of Whitman's experience as Hrvatski, picking up where 1998's 'Oiseaux' left off. Included are the choppy hyperactive cuts like "2nd Zero Fidelity Mandible Investigation" which could easily have been recorded the same day as the opening classic "Vatstep DSP," appearing for the first time ever on a Hrvatski record (outnumbered by the two appearances on Kid 606 projects). The 16-second "Untitled Fields" is a good tension-reliever as well as the all-too-short "Gemini," culled from the release 'Autumn Nature.' Some of the more chin-scratching pieces include his abstract cover version of "Paint It, Black," and the sample-montage of "Anestetise Thineself," in which he could easily be paying tribute to Tear Garden's "OOEEOO," but I doubt that was intentional. My personal favorite moments on the compilation are the new tracks "Freie Zeit," an improvised bit which just happened to be captured and the waltzing closer, "Tegenborg," equipped with enough distorted prog-rock cock-rock guitars and hand claps to make any DSP fan cringe. Maybe one of these days Hrvatski will do some sort of a conceptual album, but for now, this listen is rewarding enough.
Right off the bat I want to get something off my chest: had I not been familiar with Whitman's work as Hrvatski nor trusting of the label Kranky, I would have been completely thrown off by the clinicization of music by the words "laptop," "ring modulators," "granular re-synthesis algorithms," "drone," "academic," and (especially) "Terry Riley" in the description on the web site. Seeing something like this is almost remeniscent of the magic of fucking nearly ruined by the overexplaination by a creepy teacher in a high school sex ed class. That said, the music on KFW's debut is alarmingly attention-commanding for a beat-less, lyric-free excursion.
Most strikingly, there is a beautiful sense of room-filling warmth on every one of the disc's five tracks, and thankfully Whitman is careful enough not to oversaturate each composition with sounds. Unlike a number of drone records, this disc is filled with songs which are just long enough to make their point clear and short enough to keep the record interesting as a whole. Even in the pulse-less opener, "Track3a," the music is set in motion much like the conflict of a film—with an enjoyable scenery background to a conflict which needs to be resolved. Thankfully the resolution comes in only a few minutes and the payoff is well worth the wait. "Feedback Zwei," on the other hand is set in motion by a steady pulse of an ear-tickling rhythm. Both that and "ACGTR SVP" build to noisy climaxes and quell, the latter piece much like the buzz of a heat bug in a sweltering late August day. "Modena" serves as a fantastic closer, as it is clearly remeniscent of Whitman's fantastic CD EP released last year, '21:30 for Acoustic Guitar,' almost completing the chapter in Whitman's output on guitar exploitation. Whether it's complete is yet to be seen, but if the Piano Concerto from 'Brain in the Wire' is any indication of what's next to come, I'll undoubtedly be listening.
Sub Pop One of the highlights from this year's Terrastock festival was the blowout performance by Kinski. The EP they're selling on tour (and on the net) is their first release through Sub Pop, a precursor to their Sub Pop debut (their third album) next Spring. At four songs, the disc acts as a wonderful introduction for those who haven't been won over by the band yet. Kinski cleverly disguises their unbridled rock tendencies with lengthy drone openings and noise fillers. While the formula is old hat (two guitars, bass, drums), the songs are straight up fun to listen to. Anybody familiar with Ride's "Leave Them All Behind" could probably predict that the opening guitar effects on "Semaphore" (no relation to Fridge) merely hint towards the bombastic arrival of all the other instruments. About 2/3 of the way through, however, the song takes an unexpected turn and speeds headlong through the finish line. Continuing on with that same motion, the peppy, punchy "Point That Thing Somewhere Else," originally by the Clean, is the only vocal track on the disc. The energy completely drops after that for the improvised noise of "The Bunnies Are Tough," which, honestly could have been either avoided or completely exploited. The closer, "I Wouldn't Hurt a Fly," opens with the serene sounds of wonderfully delayed guitars (you know, the kinds mama used to make) but is soon shattered by the loudness factor again. With two minutes left, the track gets completely fucked up. I can't tell if this is intentional or a complete glitch as it happens on all of my CD players. Look for this Seattle four-piece on tour with Acid Mothers Temple right now and try your damndest to track down any of their older recordings. (Best of f'n luck.)
Hefty It should come as no surprise that the album Hefty gets this year from Marco Haas as T. Raumschmiere is considerably more cerebral and noticably less ass-pounding as the one from Shitkatapult (see Sept. 29th's issue). The puffy thump of the bass kick is present again (deep enough to blow a hole in your speakers if you're not careful). This time around, however, deep listening has replaced sleazy listening, as the chunky, sweaty basslines that littered 'Rock N' Roll Swindle' are noticably absent. Taking the center stage are more hypnotic samples, breathy noises, clicks, ticks, and soft keyboard sounds. Songs take longer to develop for the most part as one by one, sounds are gracefully trickled in. Unlike the omnipresent relentless motion of the unlikely companion, this album takes a few noticable pauses here and there, driven by short beat-free moments. They're quick enough to catch your breath, but are abruptly dropped when the throb of songs like "Dual Kanal" make their presence known. If 'Swindle' is the album that brings you to that extra-special level of throbbing ecstasy, this album is pefrectly suitable for the transition into the coming-down afterwards. It's perfect for the car ride home as you race to beat the sunrise of the next day.
Tiger Style Quick, my cat's purring, grab the microphone! Seriously, I'm continually impressed with Karla Schickele's songwriting and singing abilities, both as an integral piece of Ida, and as the boss here as K. Shickele's lyrics never sound anything less than painfully honest, and never, for once, are they remotely predictable or trite. On this, the second K album, the musical styles vary so greatly that I'm unfortunately having a hard time at certain points being completely won over musically. The broken continuity works amazingly well in the powerful "Crush Mine," as the magical superglue that seems to hold most rock songs together (the drummer) is showing strong desires for an improvisational angle. The country twang of the steel guitar on "I Am Not Willing," and "Everybody Knows Your Name," however, seems almost forced and unnatural. Instrumental diversions like the metronome, guitar and gong sounds on "More Than Wanted" are warmly welcome while the bangy-bangy piano on "Keep Your Eyes on the Road" simply grates on my nerves. Songs like "Ballad" and "Bounty" are destined to become fan favorites, as they're both bleedingly emotional and have the sound of a band who is in perfect synergy with each other. K is on the road right now, and while I might not have given this album the highest marks, K's shows have never let me down.
Lex The year was 2001. I was in Columbubs, Ohio selling merchandise for a touring band when I only briefly shook hands with a friend of the guitarist, a really charming young gentleman named Brian. The following year, I was completely blown away by the sounds Brian (as Boom Bip) was generating in collaboration with the rap of Dose One in a small concert in Boston. I look back on that one concert night with fond memories as the sound was loud and the feeling was wonderful. Later on that year, he released his album, "Seed to the Sun." After Hollywood caught wind of the phenomenal breakthrough, he was soon composing film scores left and right and nobody ever heard from Brian again. His success was rightfully deserved, however. On the first seconds of that album he wowed the crowd by his sharp sense of musical composition, structure, playing abilities and production smarts, with an electronically-based driving beat layered by live bass guitar playing and thoroughly enjoyable musical progressions. From track to track, the feeling varied (ear-tingling beat-less digital drones of "Pules All Over," a campy drunken trumpet calliope on the brief "Newly Weds," a raspy rap by Buck 65 on "The Unthinkable," and the nasal, beat-poetry prose of Dose One on, "Mannequin Hand Trapdoor I Reminder") but the consistency never faltered. Influenced by hip-hop beats, New Order-esque high-fretboard bass guitar playing, synth pop, sampleadelics and space rock, Boom Bip was indeed a well-rounded child, albeit a bit unfocused at times, yet impressively talented.
If I didn't know both the name of this band and their album title, I honestly would have guessed they recorded this with the full intention of creating a overpoweringly bright image of a glass lense amplifying the sun's light to such an unbearable degree, that everything else in sight becomes a mush of yellowy wash. Hold your hand up to your face but you still can't block the intensity.
In a word, this quartet's second album is simply "unavoidable," in that the minute the bombastic hippie rock sounds in, all other ambient sounds are eclipsed. It's due to the combination of fuzzy guitar, over-distorted vocals, a messy wash of cheap effects and quiet breaks much like the rustling of wind chimes and dangling outdoor objects in Kansas as the sky grows from blue to black, moments before the tornado rears its ugly head and destroys every trailer in sight. Picture Animal from The Muppets going berzerk on the drums as a crazed LSD-freak screams and can't stop wiggling the whammy bar. Occasional guitar shredding can probably be partially blamed on producer Tim Green, who makes ironic 80s retro-metal with the Fucking Champs. The most charming aspect is probably in its brutal live feel. At moments like the second song, "Return to Heaven," this album could easily be mistaken for a live MC5 session sans singer Rob Tyner. Grab some cheap beer, phone some friends and bring your earplugs, playing this album on a Tuesday night (with the volume on 11) is a great substitution for a lack of killer rock shows in your dull town.