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The debut full-length release from Montreal's one man group known asMonstre fades in like a slow train coming into the station in themiddle of your nightmare. Punchy vocal samples obscure the views in ascary dreamlike state, fading in and out with distorted percussives.Before long, barking voices take over the role of percussion while basslines or toy pianos move the music forward. Abstract, surreal,hardcore, evil. It's taken a long time to actually verbalize how thisrelease can be both nauseating and captivating at the same time.Thursday night I saw a double feature of classic Italian suspense,1971's "Schizoid" directed by Fulci and 1970's "Bird with the CrystalPlumage" by Argento. Listening to 'Sucre 3' again the day after thesesilly yet haunting films seems to help me understand the music a littlebetter. Monstre could very well be providing the score between songs,the stuff that never makes it onto the soundtracks, the bits and piecesbetween Ennio Morriccone's themes, things which are usually some of myfavorite parts of a film's score. Further along, the instrumentationgets weirder. Explosions are created inside the mouth, the percussionrole becomes taken over by baby toys, ambience is provided by bubblingbath in the background, school children dance and sing unintelligablesongs while creepy melodies ring out like a demented jack-in-the boxwaiting to spring out. Oh my god, there's been a car accident outside,the horn is stuck a solid blare, is my microwave oven's dinger soundingoff over and over again? I want to wake up now! Okay, things are chillagain, the kids are happily playing outside my window and the sun isshining as the credits roll and it was only a dream. I think I'm gonnabuy the Brattle Theatre a copy of this disc so they can play it betweenmovies instead of that awful crap they had that night.
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Young Ryan Kidwell of Baltimore, MD has recorded for Underscore,Tigerbeat6 and 555 Recordings and is pals with Kid606, Lesser, Hrvatskiand Electric Company. On this 22 minute, 8 track EP Cex continues tokeep it real in a variety of sexy styles, namely a hip hop informedIDM. Tracks such as "Cal and Brady Style", "Cex Can Kiss My Soft,Sensuous Lips" (which perpetuates the '*insert artist here* can kiss myass' joke begun by Lesser and Kid606) and "Your Handwriting When YouWere a Child in the Winter" feature playfully impressive Autechre-ish(has this word made Webster's yet?) melody/glitch programming. "Get inYr Squads" adds clean guitar to the mix while "Tattoo of a Barcode"foregoes beats altogether for a couple minutes of drone and crackle.Other than the brief spoken word/beat box intro, there are two morehumorous tracks. "Hi Scores", probably a poke at Boards of Canada,creates the auditory illusion of Cex in the act of sex. The title trackbrings the disc to a close with a rousing, lo-fi sing along by Cex andfriends over generic, pre-programmed riffs from a cheap keyboard. Youcan't help but smile from all the fun these guys are having. Cex iscurrently touring Japan and will hit various North American locationsthroughout the summer.
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How is it that a band can make a record that doesn't do anythingparticularly new, but still sounds incredibly fresh? It's all in thesongwriting. Melody, interplay, musicianship: these should bewatchwords for any band. Too often it sounds derivative, or bandsresort to gimmicks to distinguish themselves. Milwaukee-based trio Pelecraft a sound that explores familiar indie rock territory in that theyare primarily a guitar, bass, and drums rock band. Through fresh tones,melodies and spirited rhythms, Pele separate themselves from the packby not dragging everything to a slow crawl or halt. "The Nudes" isinfectious in its simplicity, but there are tricks up this trio'ssleeve. In moments that must be formed on improvisation, like on "VisitPumpy," Pele, well, rocks out to great effect. Elsewhere, skill withtheir instruments shows through and Pele take on a very rigid rhythmicstructure ("Total Hut") that depends on their playing extremely well asa unit. This being their fourth release, and second in this formation,it's obvious that these musicians have played together a while, andthat they can almost sense each other's next move. I'm amazed, andsomewhat disappointed, that I've never heard of this band before this.They're that good. Dammit. Now I'm going to have to buy their wholecatalog, too. I hate this.
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At first listen, I was a bit disappointed by this Aranos release,mostly because of the repetitious string sounds which commonly openseveral tracks. But it definitely is one of these albums which grows onyou, as a unity of sound and theme, emerging from a well-balancedtracklist. At times it reminds me of his first collaboration with NurseWith Wound, 'Acts of Senseless Beauty', with unexpected sounds jumpingin the middle of bass, cello, viola, violin, guitar, or mandolinlayers. No surprise, you'll probably not dance on every track, but maycertainly nod on various songs, thanks to colorful rhythms which leadback to the cello or piano chords pulsing all along the record. Morethan strings or piano, the side elements are the most efficient — awide variety of gentle percussions, and the haunting voice, which Ifind even too scarce. "Spirit Fragrance" arrives like a big surprise —a faster-paced song in a style reminiscent of Emir Kusturica and the NoSmoking Orchestra. It's tracks like these where it becomes obvious thatAranos isn't lying on the resume about his extensive musicalbackground. A complete contrast to this, the disc's closer is a long,minimal piece of meditative music, consisting of lengthy tones oftenmade out of percussions with subtle crumpling sounds in the background.More surprising than the music itself is its "experimental anarchydistribution" system. It will quickly be shipped to you from Aranoshimself, under conditions that I'll let you discover on his website. Itcomes in a beautiful hand-made paper cover (made in Nepal underfair-trade agreement) with bamboo strip details and a hemp tie. Thiscan sound strange, but really makes it.
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For a while in the early to mid nineties, Chapel Hill, NC, was beingtouted as the new Seattle. In the Raleigh-Chapel Hill areas, fifteenminutes apart at the most, there co-existed some twenty-five bands, allof which wrote their own brand of energetic pop-based music. Some werethe flagships for their particular brand of music (Squirrel Nut Zippersfor hot jazz, Whiskeytown for "alt-country," etc.). Others weretrendsetters with no real brand to speak of (Ben Folds Five, Archers ofLoaf). Still others were just a reaction to what was going on aroundthem at the time. The Comas formed as a joke, hoping to make music thatmade fun of the alt-country scene. When they realized they might havesomething that could work better than the joke they had in mind, theystuck with it. "A Def Needle In Tomorrow," their second album, is apure pop treasure. Don't expect to bounce around at their music,however. This is laid-back thinker's pop. The melodies are gorgeous,the songs lush and expansive (producer Brian Paulson is to be thankedfor this, I'm sure), and the lyrics are more fun than a barrel full ofemo bands (pun intended, but probably not achieved). On "Arena," thealbum opener, guitarist/vocalist Andrew Herod sings of Princess Leiaand fastest ships, and on "Tiger in a Tower" he works "Pissing on aplastic flower" into the rhyme scheme. The vocal harmonies are what ismost interesting about The Comas, and this release in particular, asHerod, bassist Margaret White and second guitarist Nicole Gehweilersound wonderful together. Little flourishes here and there add to thesound, as no band member plays just one instrument and drummer JohnHarrison works in samples and turntable work. Lagniappe ("a littlesomething extra") seems to be the order of the day, as there's even avideo for album track "Sister Brewerton" on the CD. Overall, a fine poprecord that proves The Comas trendsetters in their own right.
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Admittedly, 'Yagga Blues' and 'Soresucker' are not my favorite singlesfrom NWW, but if you're developing your collection of Wound music andhave yet to pick the two up, this disc will fill that gap conveniently.Unfortunately if you're a die-hard and own these two already, theextended versions of both the title track and "Journey Through Cheese"are a mild annoyance. "Funeral Music" is perhaps one of my fave NWWtracks. The music embraces beauty through layers of lengthyharmonically compatible samples, 'centering around a shakuhachi phraseplayed by David Jackman in 1987' (according to the original linernotes). On this collection it lives lavishly in its full form,stretching well over 35 minutes, as opposed to the 9+ minute versionwhich originally appeared six years ago. "Journey Through Cheese" isalso bigger, stretching to about 25 minutes, but the extra 15 minutesto me just drags the song out far longer than it needs to go. "YaggaBlues" of course is a classic tune, incorporating primitive rhythmicloops with sound effects and a haunting echoing vocal track. The beatsand themes were completely exhausted however on the full-lengther 'WhoCan I Turn To Stereo' from 1996, the versions here are nice andcompact, with a slightly abridged break time inbetween tracks (30seconds on the previous release, down now to about five).
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Hard to believe 1984 was seventeen years ago. At the time, Thatcher andReagan were in power, Cabbage Patch kids were in style, Duran Duranwere selling out arenas all over the world, researchers publishedreports on the link between HIV and AIDS, Indira Ghandi wasassassinated and Apple introduced the Macintosh. Coil also releasedtheir debut album, a record at the time which was embraced by thepost-industrial scenesters, yet over time has become regarded by manyas somewhat of a cult classic. The music contrasted the trends: wherePsychic TV and Chris and Cosey were softening up — heading down a moreeasily digestible pop route — Coil were summoning pan, waking Maldoror,digging up sewage and turning shit into gold. The album, produced byJim Thirlwell features guests like Marc Almond, Gavin Friday, AlexFerguson and a new third member, Stephen Thrower. Coil weren't afraidto push the boundaries of the genres, using varying sounds fromelectric and organic instruments and collected samples from all overthe world. Why can't they get the CD release correct however? The firsttime around was an unauthorized issue circa 1990, the original releasewas issued with a running order inconsistent with the sleeve and ahalf-assed mastering job. This time around the running order wascorrected, but there's a brand new typo on the booklet and themastering job is worse. Louder doesn't necessarily equal better, theequalization was tweaked to make certain things sound clearer, but thevolume was beefed up to the point of clipping on the really bombasticsounds all over the disc. Here I was originally thinking this would besomething wonderful but when compared to the original vinyl edition,I'm severely let down. For those curious, the same bonus tracks fromthe first issue of the CD are here: Tainted Love, Restless Day and thelonger version of Spoiler.
Originally titled 'Funeral Music for Princess Diana,' Coil's secondfull-length album surfaced in 1986. While the album was more consistentin its theme (various perceptions of death) it was recorded in variousstudios with various producers at the knobs. While the production mightsound dated in parts, the songs themselves are once again timelessclassics. Like 'Scatology', 'Horse Rotorvator' splits genres with thevarying styles - a beefy opening dance track, punchy post-indusrtialsound collages, creepy sequenced melodies, loud guitar riffs, bigbands, bugs and guest speeches. Fortunate concert-goers over the lastyear have paid witness to Coil's revival of "Blood from the Air" whichsounds as fresh now as it did 15 years ago. Unfortunately, once again Ihave issues with the mastering job. Like the other reissue theequilization has been tweaked, this time beefing up both the low bassand high end, coupled with a volume increase. The main result isn'tclipping this time (except for the track "Ravenous") but acassette-like hiss sound, much like that out of place thread in thecurtain - once you notice it, you can't ignore it. The track listinghas been corrected where once again the first issue of the CD wasinconsistent. The artwork includes the cover picture from the originalLP and previously unissued photos inside the booklet. Fans who alreadyown the original issues and are quite satisfied with their versionsneed not worry about the reissues. Obsessives with moral obligationsand relatively new fans shouldn't waste time however. Coil are gettingpaid for these versions, and at $13-15 USD a pop, they're more thanworth it.
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Note: My review could have read entirely like this: "What the Fuck isthis? It's fucking Fuck that's what the fuck it is, you fuck. Oh, Fuck,this is good. It's fucking so good Fuck is 'Fuck-ing' again." Somepeople think that sort of thing is clever. Luckily, I don't. Okay, nowto the real review. It's interesting listening to any band with a namedesigned to incense. Crunt, for instance. 1,000 Homo DJs, for another.However, what seems to be the most interesting part is that none ofthese bands set out to incense people with their music. It must be alet-down, in fact, when some people set out to play a naive practicaljoke on their friend by buying them the record with the "F-word" on thecover, actually listen to the record and realize two things: 1) Themusic doesn't really match the name of the band; 2) The music isn'thalf bad. And that's exactly what I'd say about this current effort."Cupid's Cactus" finds the band with their most laid-back release todate, and that's saying a lot. Fuck has always been this way: one shortstep away from a country western band with folk tendencies, determinedto rock you, just with subtlety. It's one of those records you put onat a party when everyone is having deep intellectual conversationsanyway. It's perfect for your cocktail party. Songs labor on, buildingsweetly and deliberately, piling on the histrionics until they stop,then start again as before. It's a great sound. Sometimes it's enoughto make you want it to just explode. It never does, thankfully. It'snot the best thing ever. It's not going to change your life.Occasionally it's good to hear this kind of record. Something originalenough to be daring, but not complicated enough to make a fuss about.It's just good, laid-back, and easy to listen to. You'll find yourselftapping your toe repeatedly. Just subtlely.
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Fans of To Rococo Rot's last full-length release beware, click/glitch fans beware, both worlds share the car ride here on a disc which (consistent with other TRR releases) has taken a few listens to be completely appreciated. I must start by admitting a scary realization: I sometimes get the feeling that there's too many clicks in my music collection right now. This whole click/glitch trend is rightfully doomed if it continues to go nowhere. To Rococo Rot have probably realized something similar and decided to actually go somewhere.
"Hungry Ghost" sounds like a sonic painting of a car ride with NYC-based DJ I-Sound, stopping along the way to pick up and drop off passenger Alexander Balanescu (violinist of the Balanescu Quartet). It's a 45-minute score to an overnight trip — the "Trance of Travel" if you will — claiming "How We Never Went to Bed," and went "From Dream to Daylight" "Along the Route." Then of course there's the "Mazda in the Mist" "She Tended to Forget." Beyond that concept, TRR made a prime example of how to couple the tools of today's technology with real musicians to push the musical evolution forward. While I warmly welcome this to the click genre, I accepted it with loads of hesitation to the TRR sound. The catchy tunes and driving melodies which littered their last release are less prominent throughout the 45 minutes here. In their place are more sound effects, whirling, buzzing and yes, clicks. The band has not completely given in, however, and are indeed still actually playing their instruments. I was so in love with 1999's release 'The Amateur View,' that I sincerely hoped they could build on that foundation, yet I'm thrilled somebody is making an effort to drive the clicks off of laptop-exclusive music. This album succeeds in the sense that it would make a perfect disc for driving with a bunch of friends, providing a gentle ambience perfect for talking over with the occasional noticing of quiet high-pitched clicking things.
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It's pretty much a common rule that the first track on the CD is themost important. It's the first paragraph in a manifesto, the first linein a love letter, or the first scene in a really good play. It sets thestage for the whole release. If the first track is not to your liking,chances are you won't like much or all of the CD. Mellow start off"Another Mellow Spring" with "Shinda Shima," a track that changesapproaches twice before actually arriving at the meat of the song. Andwhat fine tasting meat it is. References to Pink Floyd are consistentlyversed in press about Mellow — their bio even says they're "checkingBeck's head through Pink Floyd's stethoscope" — and not withoutjustification. "Shinda Shima" settles into a very Floyd-esque vibe. Andthat's when the vocoder comes in. Suddenly the soundscape has changed.Seems that's the order of the day for Mellow, as the second track,"Paris Sous La Neige," sounds vaguely Brit-pop. And then things shiftagain. This is one of the most viscerally satisfying releases I'veheard this year, for that very fact. Styles shift, weird sounds emerge,and the whole time the trio of Stephane Luginbuhl, Pierre Begon-Loursand Patrick Woodcock sound like they're having the time of their lives.They should be: it's exciting stuff. The only complaint I have is theinclusion of several versions of "Mellow," their debut single,including a Fila Brazilia mix. It almost always signifies a lack ofmaterial to justify a full CD instead of an EP. Mellow show promise,though, and I definitely look forward to hearing where they go fromhere.
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Ovalcommers starts and ends with high marks, with theanti-compositional composer incorporating new sounds into the audiosoup. The pulse is strong and the noise is multi-dimensional, dynamic,mobile and emotive. This eventually fades however, into the proverbialarray of untitled tracks packed with multi-tonal scratchy hums. By themiddle of the disc, the music has become ambience, eyelids sink, andother activites win attention until it nearly ends. But before it quiteends, Popp has sadly chosen to do one of the most irritating trends inthe past ten years: he leaves 25 minutes of silence on track 11 beforea new unexpected (de)composition jumps in. The music that arrives afterthis silence is phenomenal. The first song is an excellent match ofbombastic low end, drifting harmnoics and captivating high pitches, thesecond pursues the more typical Oval sound with scratching rhythmicsounds, yet adds more fluid melodies and song structure. This portionof the disc is so much more exciting and unpredictable than the rest ofOvalcommers that I wonder what's holding him back fom making aphenomenal album. I honestly can say I like his stuff, but does hereally want to keep releasing the same album over and over again? Is heafraid to explore new grounds as Oval? To me, the process is gettingrather tired and the journalists who herald this stuff over and overagain are merely chasing their tales. You've presented the process,perfected the process, now do something with it.
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