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.
Get involved: subscribe, review, rate, share with your friends, send images!
For their third release, this Montreal-based quartet continue to boldlytry and walk the seldom-attempted line between improvisational noiseand instrumental jam band antics. There's a good reason why this lineis seldom attempted. Their noise skills aren't quite up to anything ofinteresting note yet while the backing the bassist and drummer providerarely, if ever, stray from the monotonous one-bar melodies repeated adnauseam. It's almost as if I'm listening to a high school band beforethey split in half, with the rhythm section forming a funk outfit andthe guitarists heading off to art school. Maybe I'm being a bit harshhere, and in fact I wouldn't run screaming from the ice cream shoppe ifit was playing on their speakers, but there is a strong need for adominant focal point: a lead instrument. Even a rhythmic vocalist orfeverent trumpet could move this album from the "interesting" categoryto actually being enjoyable. More than that, the melodies really need abit of a forward motion so it doesn't feel like I'm in a running carwhose tires are spinning in place. They're onto something, however. Thedrones, found sounds and tape recordings build decent atmospherics butpost-production audio editing and digital manipulations aren't verycompelling. The energy levels are high but too much repetition resignsthis album to being sonic wallpaper for a mindless aerobicise sessionor fixing dinner in a hurry to. Chop chop, click click glitch, gottarun! -
Denali reportedly formed after the decision of singer Maura Davis notto pursue an education in opera. She had some songs she'd been workingon, it seems, and she came to her brother, bass player Keeley Davis, tohelp her flesh them out. And flesh them out he did; and with drummerJohnathan Fuller and guitar player Cam Dinunzio, the foursome becameDenali, a name derived from the Athapascan word for Mt. McKinley, notthe GMC truck. The band has so enamored audiences and musicians alike,and for their debut they were joined by Alan Weatherhead on theengineering side, and Mark Linkous on producing two tracks (both fromSparklehorse). The results are worthy of praise for a debut record.Opera's loss is rock's gain, as Maura Davis' vocals are empassioned,soaring, like an indie rock Bjork, while she pains away on Rhodes pianoor guitar. The band certainly knows how to use samples well, as theeeriest qualities on the album are created around them ('Relief' and'Function'). It's where the band rocks out that the sound truly comestogether. On 'Gunner,' Maura's voice takes on a near Jeff Buckleyquality, as the band produces soaring, glorious music below her. It isthe apex of the release, and it is her voice that drives these songs,but the band is not to be discounted. The elder Davis adds capablebacking vocals on most tracks, too, and his bass combined with Fuller'sdrums make for a rousing, driving rhythm section. There isn't a badtrack here, and not one below the three-and-a-half minute mark. Davis'lyrics prove just as haunting as her voice: on 'Function' she wails'Something strange is coming'; and on 'Gunner' she's going to 'get youbefore you get me.' It's horrbily affecting music, and with Denali on awest coast tour in June, I look forward to seeing how it translateslive. I'll have to settle for the CD until then, and I suggest you do,too. -
The title translates as 'The Edge of Noise' which is very appropriateas this New Zealand based electroacoustic composer takes the everydaysounds of swings, rainfall and breath through magnified journeys andthorough transformations. The inherent noise in all these sounds ishoned and clarified to its limit and then stretched and pulled into newelastic shapes, but there's always a compositional rigour and exactnessthat keeps this far from chaotic onslaught."Pythagoras's Curtain" starts with what sounds like chalk on ablackboard colliding with door knocks. Lots of creaking, low squeakingand rustling follow, panning from speaker to speaker. The sounds aredeployed with precision and meticulous attention to stereo picturedetail. Sudden drones burst out and rupture against nature. The titlerefers to the way in which Pythagoras would lecture from behind acurtain and draws a parallel to the way in which acousmatic musicrequires deep attentive listening divorced from other senses. Similarbrutal yet focused transformations occur in the other pieces. "Inner"takes sharp intakes of breath and overly dramatic exhalations on anasthmatic nightmare trip which opens up gaping windswept canyons fromthe human lung before collapsing it into wheezing asphyxia andabstracted whirling vortices. There's a very claustophobic feel to muchof this breathscape. "Virtual" takes recordings of wind through asimilar if predictably more violent ride, but the feeling here is ofopen vastness. The squeaking swing that "Time, Motion and Memory"hinges on instantly recalls Pierre Henry's 'Variations Pour Une Porteet Un Soupir' but takes on forms far beyond the capacity of old tapesplicing, as Young reimagines the swing as a giant pendulum cuttingback and forth through other environmental sounds. There's a thick fogof nostalgic childhood memory gathering for the most moving andhaunting track here. It's soon washed away by the rain falling from the"Liquid Sky," in crisp drenched drain swilling eddies. This is perhapsthe most varied and violent track by default as the different surfacesthat rain hits flood wide sonic spectra. Through academic studioalchemy enabled by Empreintes Digitales, John Young makes explicit thedrama and strangeness of everyday sounds, and draws deep shadows in thespaces between them. -
To start off on a blunt foot, this album was probably not worth the $30I paid for it. My expectations were high - Alio Die, whom I regard asan ambient guru, a new sublabel of Amplexus ("Weird" Amplexus ...clever, huh?), "special packaging" (which ended up being a foldoutcover with three inserts), etc. etc. So I was hyped up. I eagerlysnatched it up at an exorbitant limited-double-vinyl-import-price fromSoleilmoon, and though it's certainly a competent album, it's probablynot what I expected-slash-hoped for. This is a very repetitive album -all the songs are based upon more or less the same formula:infinitesimally quiet-but-slowly-loudening drones accompanied byoccasional light percussions or drifting melodies and samples. Thisisn't necessarily a bad thing... but I ached for something somewhatdifferent. Despite the repetition, it's all pulled off quite well - thealbum is very soothing and meditative and some of those drones resonatebeautifully. But the album leaves me wanting more... especially for$30. It ends in precisely the same way it began. If you're a realhardcore fan of this stuff, you might want to grab it, but if you needa little variation in your ambience, be wary. -
The increase in one-man bands in recent years is staggering, and notjust because the advent of technology makes it possible. It's alsostaggering because so many of them are so good. David Bazan tried Pedrothe Lion as a full band, but eventually opted to do it all himself. On"Control," Pedro the Lion's third full-length, Bazan is joined by CaseyFoubert, and the songs are more powerful and raw than anything the bandhas recorded yet. Bazan's lyrics continue to improve, and on "Control"he examines the affect of modern life on human relationships indifferent scenarios. It's been opined in various publications (and onthe Jade Tree Bulletin Board - Pedro the Lion's label) that these songsgreatly reflect Bazan's Christianity, and that such beliefs should notbe present in music of the indie punk genre. They couldn't be morewrong. True, the opening lyrics of the album describe a person whocannot divorce their mate, but that doesn't necessarily have to be theprofession of Christian beliefs. This album is all about the failure ofmodern culture, and how that failure affects our dealings with others.Corporate structure is taken to task on the back-to-back power hit of'Penetration' and 'Indian Summer' - "If you aren't moving units thenyou're not worth the expense' and 'If it isn't penetration, then itisn't worth the kiss' on the former, with talk of kids being taughtearly to love the taste of 'corporate cum' on the latter. The seeminglychemical breakdown of the family unit is examined on more than onetrack, but the most frightening is 'Rehearsal,' where the narratorchooses to make his lover pay for her motel meetings with anotherrather than break it off with her ("You are so unoriginal/You'll seethat I can be so unoriginal just like you"). It's a big step for Pedrothe Lion, one that will hopefully remove the stigma associated withthem and increase their audience. -
I may as well admit this before I go on: Miss America is one of my favorite records of all time. I remember I saw her perform as part of Nick Cave's Meltdown two years ago. I got so excited when she came onstage that I shouted "Mary - I miss you!!". She replied "Well, I don't miss you...I see you every day." That probably tells us a little of the expectation she has felt in the intervening 15 years since Miss America, and why she has chosen to put this out as a soundtrack rather then a 'proper' album.
But all the elements that made Miss America so incredible are all there; Rusty McCarthy's pristine, Derek Bailey-like guitar playing; odd time signatures that shift and pull like Miles Davis; and that voice—swooping upwards, catching in her throat, gibbering and crooning like Billie Holiday crossed with Patti Smith. The most stunning tracks on the album are the most conventional; 'Never Came Back' swings like 'Shiny Beast'-period Beefheart with O'Hara doing her most conventional singing yet. The song then promptly disintegrates into a lose and limbre jazz shuffle, and O'Hara begins a slow crescendo of manic scatting. 'Scary Latin Love Song' is O'Hara in dementia mode; over a hyperventilating Ozomatli-type Latin groove, she gibbers in Hispanic, squawks, shrieks and then calms down. The album is pervaded with a 'Taxi Driver' sense of disquiet, and it's only once -- on the joyous 'Have You Gone', where the Leningrand Cowboys meets Patsy Cline -- that there's sense of resolution. Then it closes with the ludicrous 'Hello Yellow Goose', with O'Hara's voice distorted beyond recognition over what sounds like Shock Headed Peters. Welcome back Mary. -
Word to the wise: do notlisten to this, Spokane's fourth release, if you are already depressed.It will make it worse. Seriously. It's a fine record, with gorgeouslysimple guitar work, minimalist drumming, and sinewy strings featuringtwo members of the string section of Papa M. But it is not acheery record in any means. "Able Bodies" seems to want to convey thestrain of the average man - the worker who slaves all day long for notmuch pay, and goes home at the end of the day to a meager existence ina substandard housing project. It is a haunting work, capable ofraising chills in many areas as well as burying you in its beauty. Thevocal harmonies and staccato strings on 'Quiet Normal Life' lead youdown a deceptive path, making you think the whole track will be airy,cold. Shortly after their appearance, though, the track gets morespirited, more uplifting, and the drums and strings spring forward withan almost wanton pace. It's not a shocking twist, but it is a welcomeone. And there's a similar break in the languid pace on the fifthtrack, 'In Houses,' which moves along at an even pace. But besidesthat, it's a very mellow affair. Not that it's a surprise for Spokanereleases to be this maudlin. The only departure here is the spookynature of the majority of these songs. But the addition of the strongsection does give an added punch to these proceedings, allowing KarlRunge to concentrate on violin, while Ben Swanson relieves RickAlverson and Courtney Bowles, of vibraphone duties. Spokane's mostmoving work, while also their most chilling, "Able Bodies" is a welcomeaddition to their already rich catalog, considering it's also theirfourth release in two years. -
It'd be easy to dismiss up-and-cummer DJ /Rupture as a product of theTigerbeat6/Kid606/Ambush/DJScud/distortion/glitch/people-who-sample-Missy-Elliot hype scene. It'dbe easy to say that he begins his CD with 'Get Ur Freak On,' goesthrough a Kid606 and Venetian Snares track followed by Cannibal Oxfollowed by Rude Ass Tinker's (Mike Paradinas's) reconstruction of 'UCan't Touch This' and say: yeah, he's just another one of the gang. Orsay he's brilliant for subversively using popular hip hop in anunderground-electronica mix CD. But the truth is a lot more complicatedand interesting than that. The first glimpses of that truth can be hadby looking at the complete tracklist on this, /Rupture's debut mixdisc: a gamut of sounds which include the obligatorydouble-aforementioned Missy Elliot track, Nettle (Spanish breakcore on/Rupture's own label), musique concrete and contemporary classical,lots of ragga and rap (which I love in small doses, as it appears onthis mix), the also-obligatory once-aforementioned reconstruction of an80s/90s mainstream hit (Rude Ass Tinker), as well as large doses oftraditional Indian and African samples and musics. And the whole thingends with Muslimgauze-cum-Paul Simon-feat. Ladysmith-Black-Mambazo. Soas much as anyone would like to, it's difficult to pigeonhole DJ/Rupture. That's not to say this mix doesn't have its weak moments -part A doesn't flow as smoothly as part B and the several-seconddropout during Dead Prez's "Cop Shot" (which may or may not beintentional, it sounds rather like a mistake to my ears) is disruptiveand annoying. Alas, these are but minor quibbles which don't tarnish anotherwise excellent and diverse journey through DJ /Rupture's musicaloeuvre. (If you download/buy this mix and like it, be sure to watch outfor his next mix, 'Minesweeper Suite,' on *grin* - wait for it -Tigerbeat6...) -
Manuela Krause is a Berlin-based club DJ and vocalist forCopenenhagen's electro/jazz group Electrazz. Here she teams up withStefan Betke, aka Pole, for this seriously thick 7" from MonikaEnterprise. The A-Side is a cover of Alexandra's 1968 cult hit "MeinFreund Der Baum" (My Friend The Tree), a tune I'm sure Germans areinfinitely more familiar with than I am. It's a pretty pop poempresented here by Krause's husky yet feminine vocal and Pole'selegantly refined production. Betke does a wonderful job of recreatingthe song with bass pulses and hi-hat, tastefully accentuated by dubmelodica and effects. He really should consider a parallel career pathin electro-pop. The "Balalaika" dub on the B-Side delves deeper andadds a bit of piano but isn't nearly as satisfying minus the vocal. Alovely little record well worth the five bucks.
Manuela Krause is a Berlin-based club DJ and vocalist forCopenenhagen's electro/jazz group Electrazz. Here she teams up withStefan Betke, aka Pole, for this seriously thick 7" from MonikaEnterprise. The A-Side is a cover of Alexandra's 1968 cult hit "MeinFreund Der Baum" (My Friend The Tree), a tune I'm sure Germans areinfinitely more familiar with than I am. It's a pretty pop poempresented here by Krause's husky yet feminine vocal and Pole'selegantly refined production. Betke does a wonderful job of recreatingthe song with bass pulses and hi-hat, tastefully accentuated by dubmelodica and effects. He really should consider a parallel career pathin electro-pop. The "Balalaika" dub on the B-Side delves deeper andadds a bit of piano but isn't nearly as satisfying minus the vocal. Alovely little record well worth the five bucks.
Danish musician Jonas Munk is 1/4 of the group Limp, and this, hisdebut full-length release from Morr, would please anybody captivated byLimp's recently released debut EP, 'Orion'. Much like 'Orion', 'Ascend'features a number of lush soundscapes and swirling, spaced-out,sometimes slightly out-of-tune keyboard-driven melodies with theoccasional sprinkling of a sparse acoustic guitar riff. Unlike the Limpstuff, however, all the beats contained herein are electronicallygenerated, often hacked up, but never straying terribly far off-course.The cover art may suggest a more earthly focus but Munk is definitelylying on his back, looking up to the sky, tinkering diligently in hisbasement for hours after the nighttime hurrah, before the crack ofdawn, while the sound of crickets fucking fills the outside air. Headout onto the lawn for a breath of fresh air, lie on the grass and lookup, doze off and you're awoken by the repetitive pitters of theneighbor's sprinkler only moments before the sun rises. Get some sleep,you've got work in a few hours. Time to listen to the fruits of theovernight sessions on the subway ride in. Have a sip of morningcoffee,... very nice.