New Music: The (International) Noise Conspiracy, 8yone, Boba Fettt

The (International) Noise Conspiracy - Bigger Cages Longer Chains (Alternative Tentacles 2007)

The (International) Noise Conspiracy - Live at Oslo Jazz Festival / Alternative Tentacles

Like Michael, I don't have much of a musical ear and I've always been pretty jealous of those who do. I've played recorder, piano and a little xylophone here and there, even remixed a song or two... But with even less musical talent and an ability to read about as much sheet music as David Blunkett, music is such an intangible for me that I sometimes wonder what kind of nerve I have writing about it so much. From what I've gathered over the years, garage is kind of like the Blunkett of rock: You have to not know how to play an instrument to be in a band.

The past decade has changed that, of course. Popular taste and professionalism, what a fickle thing. I can't remember the last time I listened to The (International) Noise Conspiracy; maybe it was in early 2002 when MTV2 still played videos stateside and the world still felt sorry for us. Boy, those were the days. The White Stripes, The Hives vs. The Vines, The Strokes... Yeah man. Garage. Awesome.

But times, like tastes, change dramatically almost by the hour now. It's tough to imagine anything from 2001 being cool anymore (Amnesiac excepted... maybe). But if there's one genre that has stood the test of time, it's garage. So why bother posting on what otherwise must be a fairly standard T(I)NC album that brings no new cards to the table but continues to allow Dennis Lyxzén his pre-Lost Patrol Band indulgences. Wait, sorry, post-Refused. Who cares either way?

Forget the "Sexiest Man in Sweden" award for a minute, though. Maybe it's time to re-think what we know about The (International) Noise Conspiracy. Live at Oslo Jazz Festival is a totally different album from prior efforts and, unless you already knew what the 80-concert, week-long affair was all about, a bit of a surprise to boot. This showcases just a brief segment of that from 2002, but in ten songs Lyxzén and the other four members of the group - collaborating with saxophonist Jonas Kullhammar (This name begs for too many bad jokes) and Fender Rhodes maestro Sven-Eric Dahlberg - retread aged terrain with a fresh perspective that might actually appeal to jazz, funk and garage connossieurs alike. I mean, dig that sax on "Bigger Cages Longer Chains": It's like a whole other group when you add just a saxophone to their sound. The jazzier feel loosens up what was already a pretty good band at what was arguably the top of their game in the summer of '02. In retrospect, it could be argued this performance marks the end of their Indian summer, but I'm not so sure: Everything up to the stirring renditions of "Born Into a Mess" and "Bodyheat" featured here might've just been the preparation. If there was any doubt that The (International) Noise Conspiracy might've been just merely good at one point, Live at Oslo Jazz Festival counters with a defiant statement that they were better than any mediocre contemporary that got featured on more Spin covers and Make Out Club profiles per capita than these five Swedish idealists with a penchant for playing politically charged garage-punk. 2002? A pretty good year.












8yone - Glacial Sunburn (Boltfish 2007)

8yone - Keymotion / Boltfish

And wasn't burning CD-Rs for yourself and your friends so exciting in those days? Boy, I sure do love rhetorical questions. Someday I'll kick the habit, but not before listening to 8yone's latest 3" CD-R. You read that right: Dude just made a four-track EP on three inches of plastic. Well, 1 1/2 if we're talking diameter here. Wait, is that right? I'm so ashamed. I hate math. Point is, songs are good.

We tend to get wrapped up in the intangibles of music so often here at Audiversity partly because we're not musicians. In a way, we're all just kind of passionate music listeners with an above-average grasp on the English language and our ability to communicate what we feel because that's really all music criticism is. Here's a record, here's what I think (rather than what might be objectively true, which may double as a reason for my opinion), hopefully you'll see my side of the story. Ultimately, very little in the sound of music is inherent fact: You can impress somebody with your demonstration of mixophrygian scales, but most people don't know what those are and couldn't care less if you used them in a song. Does it have a beat? Does it take me to a particular moment in my life that I want to remember? Does it make me feel something? These are the questions that separate the technically great from the truly great.

I don't know a whole lot about Matthias Gorf and his methods for creating the music he does; my guess is that he probably has a laptop somewhere in his dwellings of what's known as "the green heart" of Germany in Thuringia. I point this out because his music, demonstrated best on "Glacial Sunburn," sounds like something meant for the countryside. This is IDM or electro or whatever meant for remote parts of northern Europe. Like Hannu or Múm, you just don't expect to hear this coming out of the Mediterranean or Australia; in a way, it's the perfect post-Ibiza come-down. Pop it on as you hit the sack and contemplate the wild time you had fighting the soap suds or swimming in the champagne or whatever it is Ibiza people do these days. If it's not the afterparty, it's the after-hours of a remote German vineyard visited by UFOs and the only people that know about it are Gorf and the listener. The synth stabs shimmer in this song like flickering lights in a poor-quality video. It's distant, it's alien, it's still beautiful and approachable and warm and wait a minute is that alien putting a probe in me and get me out! And yet the beat remains impenetrable, totally steadfast and resolute in its subdued but ever-steady thumping. Maybe all of those descriptions are wrong, after all. Gorf probably had it right the first time: This is what glacial sunburn sounds like, alright. Feels good to me.














Boba Fettt - Wir Ham Alles (feat. Fuat) (No Peanuts 2007)

Boba Fettt - Meister des Universums / No Peanuts

Feeling good and sounding good don't always have to correlate, of course. Some pretty vulgar examples come to mind, but I'll play with the kids on this one and just go with the classic pizza + ice cream theorem. West Berliner Boba Fettt rapping over some pretty disparate beats in his native tongue doesn't sound particularly appealing either, but one listen to Meister des Universums will have you speak-singing a different tune, in another language. With all of those throaty Slavicisms German has, it doesn't inherently sound as smooth or as affable as the Romantic languages, French, Italian, Portuguese, the "languages of love" as it were. But in the right context, German can be used for good: You get all your rolling R's down in Bavaria or Austria and, when it comes to technology or machinery, nothing says "authority" like yelling out "Ich schreie alleine nachts!" (which loosely translates to "I cry alone at night!" but no one will ever know)

Another fine example of German put to good use is this latest release from the Berlin DJ. Using a variety of beats pulled from contemporary chart-topping rap and underground soul-sampling more common to the collegiate in us all, Boba Fettt (who intentionally has a third 'T' on the end) spends 16 songs treading ground that's not necessarily new to listeners in terms of music; instead, his appearances and featured guests (Fuat here on "Wir Ham Alles," or "We Have Everything") highlight the gruff nature of European hip-hop culture in the urbs. It's a remarkable display of mic competence and, even though I only understand about 1/4 of what he's saying (It's been years since I've taken German properly), my guess is that he's walking all over me with some pretty coy jibes.

In fact, there's one thing that music can't always inherently do that foreign languages almost always can: Make you feel stupid and ashamed for not knowing about it more. I'll say this: Boba Fettt doesn't scare me nearly as much as he would've if I were an average music listener partly because I spent the majority of my high school years learning it. So yeah, like I was saying: 2002? A pretty good year.

New Music: Stars of the Lid, Lusine, Schneider TM

Stars of the Lid - The Evil That Never Arrived (Kranky 2007)

Stars of the Lid – Stars of the Lid and Their Refinement of the Decline / Kranky

Sadly, I do not have a musical ear, though it’s not because I cannot read, play or understand music, quite the contrary in fact. I was always the head of my section while playing the saxophone through my pre-college years (at which point I gave it up), I can read music, have taken numerous theory classes throughout my entire education, studied sound design, was taught audio production by an incredible mathematician, can and have recorded, produced, mixed, remixed and pieced together samples, but I just do not have that natural musical talent. I cannot improvise, cannot resolve a chord without painstakingly mucking my way through the rules of theory, cannot hear a simple ditty and easily recreate it, and could not come up with an original melody to save my life. However, thanks to my education, I can listen to a piece of music and mentally see the wavelengths it creates, and, mostly because of the reasons of can’t I just listed, appreciate music as an emotion and almost as a mystical entity. I actually very well may have the polar opposite of perfect pitch, so when music moves me, I don’t question "how technically" but "how emotionally." Stars of the Lid moves me.

It’s been six years since the duo of Adam Wiltzie and Brian McBride released an album together. Their last one, The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid, garnished many a positive review for their continued evolution of ambient post-classical music, which has developed exponentially from the found-sound compositions of 1995’s Music for Nitrous Oxide to the patient enveloping of tender harmonies found on Stars of the Lid and Their Refinement of the Decline.

As I was rambling about earlier, the specific chord progressions and harmonic resolutions Wiltzie and McBride utilize may and I’m betting does impress your everyday musical theorist, but to me they are as alien as Martian terrain. I do, however, think that we both see a very similar visual representation of the gentle swelling of the pulsing harmonic interaction that encapsulates Their Refinement of the Decline. The theorist sees an elegant spread of strategically layered whole notes all strung together with numerous overarching and overlapping ties creating almost a gentle sea of musical composition while I see rolling foothills of intermingling and gracefully curving wavelengths producing that same sea-like visual representation of the music. We both, as well as any other listener with effectible emotion, can easily grasp and appreciate the elegant sophistication of the deceptively simple compositions of the Lid. Basically, it’s like Reich on benzodiazepines. Utilizing a small ensemble of stings, horns and even a children’s choir, Wiltzie and McBride knead out two hours of gorgeous tones and reflective harmonies creating music that can make you stare hypnotically into space and completely shut down mentally for a few precious minutes to just feel the music. I’m guessing it’s not too far from the aural equivalent of using steady meditation to reach your state of unconscious.

The associations made with Stars of the Lid are usually film composers like Zbignlew Presiner or minimalists like Arvo Pärt, partly because there are very few contemporary musicians making such ambitious and timeless music and partly because Their Refinement of the Decline sounds like more of an aural accompaniment in our vastly visual modern world. This is not necessarily a bad thing, I certainly wouldn’t mind it as a soundtrack to my biopic, but the truth is most kids rarely can sit through an EP and the Lid are over here giving you two hours of gentle music, you do the math. If you do have the patience though, Stars of the Lid and Their Refinement of the Decline is one of the most rewarding and soothing pieces of music you’ll ever hear.

Oh! And it’s Kranky 100! Long live challenging music.






Lusine - Drip (Apparat Remix) (Ghostly International 2007)

Lusine – Podgelism / Ghostly International

Though knocking around the experimental techno scene since the late 90s including putting out material on Isophlux, !K7, Hymen and Delikatessen, Jeff McIlwain's stock didn't really skyrocket until signing on with Detroit's electronica label extraordinaire Ghostly International in 2003. His subsequent album, Serial Hodgepodge, further embellished on the colorful IDM he established with his impressive pre-Ghostly catalog and spread the Lusine moniker to eager headphones around the world. Lying on the SMM side of the Pac Man-copped logo, the Seattle-based producer sits comfortably beside his label-mates with his ability to spin soothing weaves of wintry downtempo, somber micro-house or even, as his collaboration with David Wingo showed on Idol Tryouts Two, experimental acoustica. For many though, Ghostly means one thing: trippy dance music a la Matthew Dear, so McIlwain is getting the royal remix treatment with Podgelism. No longer just for contemplating or reflection, Lusine is now rocking your favorite hip dance club.

Pulling source material mostly from 2004’s Serial Hodgepodge, Ghostly lined-up an impressive set of top-notch remixers including their very own micro-house icon Matthew Dear and select artists from BPitch Control, Plug Research and Kompakt among others to reshape the Lusine sound. If you are a DJ and looking for the more club-oriented tracks, you very well may want to start with the Select Remixes 12” which includes the four most DJ-friendly cuts. Kicking off the wax is the shifty industrial shuffle of “The Stop” care of the Wighnomy Brothers’ Robag Wruhme, which may pack the most jerky rhythms but I’ll bet for namesake alone, most people will be jumping the needle directly to A2 where Apparat gives “Drip” a new spin. Fresh off his world-renown collaboration with Bpitch head Ellen Allien (2006’s Orchestra of Bubbles), Sascha Ring reassembles “Drip” with oddly programmed snare washes and skittering synths which is definitely a highlight of the 12” and album, but would be tough to dance to (at least for me). The B-side features the loose micro-techno of “Make It Easy” from John Tejada as well as Lawrence’s remix of “Everything Under the Sun” which attacks with a similar approach, but more dubbed-out and synthy.

The rest of the eleven remixes can be found on the full-length which features three re-imaginations by Lusine himself as well as choice cuts from Matthew Dear, Cepia, Deru and Dimbiman. Dear does his usual thing and completely spins “Flat” in a direction far from the original. He builds from a revolving sample and crunchy percussion snippets into a thumping, swirling, trippy underground club number further proving his incredible inventiveness. Label-mate Cepia and Dimbiman both take on the very same track; the former embellishing with intricate polyrhythms and scattering glitch and the latter (who teams up with Cabanne) adds an infectious drum-machine pulse and delicate peeks at electric guitar and bass. Podgelism is definitely an album aimed toward the Ghostly crowd, but will as easily inspire spins from club and radio DJs from around the world. It’s quality experimental techno from the very artists paving the way of the genre while getting to utilize inventive source material in it’s own right.







Schneider TM - Caplets (City Slang 2006)

Schneider TM – Skoda Mluvit / City Slang

When ambient or electro- pop (depending on which genre tag you prefer) began to gain momentum in the late 90s, artists like Air, Stereolab and Broadcast were producing albums based on inventive synthetic textures and infectious keyboard melodies. The key word here is albums. This was back when zines or college radio was the only exposure an independent album would get; there was no need for a single when basically your only option was to get judged on the whole. Well obviously times have changed with the ballooning of the blogosphere, and especially aggregators like HypeMachine, forcing independent music to enter back into the world of drawing-in singles for the first time since 7 inches were popular. The power of a few top quality singles can all of a sudden boost you to the top of the indie hierarchy, and with the genre at hand, The Postal Service are the perfect example. A couple of exemplary tracks with a few decent fillers and you will be riding high for at least a few years as the ripples slowly find their way to the outer edges of the pond of popularity. In turn, albums like Schneider TM’s third full-length, Skoda Mluvit, begin to sound like a bunch of stringed together singles rather than a cohesive album.

Germany’s Dirk Dresselhaus was not too far behind the electro-pop curve coming to recognition in 1998 with Moist that garnished descriptions like a “less frenetic Mouse on Mars.” His only other full-length album in the 10-year existence of the Schneider TM moniker was 2002’s Zoomer on Mute, which once again received praise for mixing pop music with glitchy programming. Maybe because it’s now been 15 years since the genre really took off, Dresselhaus’ latest just doesn’t seem as impressive as his earlier works. The biggest change is the wide inclusion of vocals, which I think distracts from his excellent bubbling arrangements. Lying somewhere in the vicinity of The Go Find and Erlend Øye, the vocals aren’t bad, but lack the individualist quality that would really differentiate himself from the ever-expanding crowd. His productions on the other hand do the best to do just that as Dresselhaus utilizes a lot of the typical current electro-pop instrumentation but expounds upon it tenfold. The “tools” listed in the liner notes look to be at least 60-deep ranging from fender mustang and French horn to ilpo’s typewriter and wooden sticks. He easily hopscotches from quirky pop (“Pac Man/Shopping Cart”) to Mouse on Mars-ish industrial-glitch (“S’kcorratiug”) to European pop-hop (“The Blacksmith”) to electro-funk (“A Ride”) to off-center avant-pop (“Caplets”) with confidence and aptitude, but can’t seem to really pave out any sound that hasn’t been explored many times before. And as I mentioned earlier, about half the tracks could find it’s way into the HypeMachine popular list if enjoyed by a strategic number of blogs because they are quality and infectious songs, but does that make a good album? It leaves me on the fence more than anything, because while definitely an enjoyable listen, it sounds too middling electro-pop, too Morr Music. I think the genre needs to be pushed in a new direction to sound fresh again, and while Dresselhaus certainly has the skills to do it, Skoda Mluvit is just not that album because it’s hard to hear as an album. I foressee a lot of this conversation:
guy1 - “hey! This mp3 is really catchy!”
guy2 – “really? Yea, it’s not bad! Are there any more songs posted?”
guy1 – “naw, just this one.”
guy2 – “oh well. Hey! Look at this new band Gorilla vs Bear just posted!”

New Music: Domestic Blend Vol. 1, Cyann & Ben

You know how some days you just feel like taking a step back and rocking out? Like just putting on a totally sweet record of yours and letting it mercilessly assault your ears? Today was that kind of day for me. Here's a thorough list of what I did, not necessarily in order of importance:

1. Surfed the Internet when I should've been doing work
2. Listened to These Arms Are Snakes

But I came home this evening and, somewhere around the ninth time through "Your Pearly Whites," I decided I'd gotten my fill of post-hardcore (...for today). I needed something a little calmer, a little more contemplative, a little less abrasive. Also, I need two full albums worth of material to do this job.













Ill Padre - Thief of Tranquility (Inner Current 2007)

Akello Uchenna - Been So Good (Inner Current 2007)

Various Artists - Domestic Blend Vol. 1 / Inner Current

That's when Inner Current slipped in almost unnoticed (or maybe my hearing is just that bad now). Everyday we the good music-lovers are bombarded with new names dropped by what must be some sort of 24-hour news service streaming from Brooklyn: If it's not the latest signing by somebody affiliated with the great resurgence of "indie-rock," it's 50 Cent and all of his cronies in a beef with one talentless hack or another. As best I can tell, that's pretty unfair. There's a lot happening in Brooklyn right now that is hip-hop and, more importantly, that isn't associated with the DFA that deserves to be highlighted.

I recently read over at the Brooklyn Record that the burrough's hip-hop guiding lights are going by the wayside. The argument in short is that there's nothing new worth looking at. For those only concerned with Top 40 rap tripe, that may be true... But sometimes you have to dig a little deeper into your own neighborhood to find the good stuff. It's like a record store with the best vinyl as the dustiest, upside down, and misplaced in the back. It's there, you just have to have the energy to keeping digging.

You shouldn't have to go digging too far for Inner Current, though. The two guys behind it - Rick Diaz Granados and Inoel Miranda in case you're checking up on your neighbors - only just got this thing off the ground in 2005. And to be even more frank, Domestic Blend Vol. 1 has actually been out and about in one form or another since last August or something, so this isn't even really that new for anybody who's had their ears to the ground. I think it's important to highlight this label though, because in the wake of DJ Shadow's disappointing The Outsider last year, I found a lot of people were looking for some kind of replacement to fill in the gaps while RJD2 prepares himself for a critical backlash with The Third Hand and Madlib (apparently) continues his work on the third part of the Beat Konducta series. Basically: Instrumental hip-hop needs some positives right now, because '06 was ugly and 2007 doesn't look much better.

Look no further: As Ill Padre's "Thief of Tranquility" and Akello Uchenna's "Been So Good" aptly demonstrate, the collection of artists for Inner Current (11 strong at the moment and including the likes of Tundra and Glen Porter) all take a great interest in Mo' Wax and Ninja Tune's finest moments with a pinch of Blue Note for good measure. In other words, a healthy helping of hip-hop, a dash of dub and downtempo, a jiggle or two of jazz: This is right up there with the best spinners at the moment and smooth as silk. At 18 songs and featuring some really solid beats I was starting to feel fresh out of, Domestic Blend Vol. 1 is a perfect introduction for your special lady to your, um, crib. Sounds horribly awkward, but rest assured that these tracks have all been laid out smoother than you could ever hope to lay your lady. Hey, there are some things even Tsunchoo can't fix. You're on your own.













Cyann & Ben - Sunny Morning (Ever 2007)

Cyann & Ben - Sweet Beliefs / Ever

Cyann & Ben was the other musical muse I felt really hit me in the right way for said occasion. Heavily scrutinzed for a variety of reasons (almost all of which stem from their involvement with M83 and the recent collapse of Gooom), the French quartet have already endured most of the publicity that might've been drummed up either for or against Sweet Beliefs because it came out last October in Europe. But look, you know how it is: We're only human. We can't cover every band all the time or else we'd actually either look like professionals or look like we have no real lives, and who wants that in a blog right? So I merrily plug away at the sounds that literally sweep you off your feet on "Words" to open up the nine-song affair. Such a simple title, isn't it? Almost totally understated, "Words" winds up with sounding awfully spiritualized by the end of its near-five minutes. This isn't quite as forthcoming as their two previous albums, but as a direct result... Big statement alert! It could be their best yet. Oh snap, I did go there.

And it looks like I walked into territory hitherto unknown. In my time-killing on the Internet today, I read a ton of stuff on how Sweet Beliefs is "hard to get into, but eventually rewarding." Or something like that. Uh, what? Were these people listening to the same glorious album I was? Maybe they had their "I'm a critic" caps on instead of their "I need a break from These Arms Are Snakes" caps. As ever, take this from one guy with a PC and an opinion... But this felt like a glass slipper the first time I listened to it all the way through and its beauty is both clearly stated and effective all the same. Cyann & Ben are content to play the folk card a little more heavily, but that's nothing to balk at. Sometimes with albums that gradually unfold as this does so brilliantly, it's better to start off slowly with a plucked acoustic six-string and work your way deep into the recesses of otherworldly white noise.

Cleverly constructed songs, all of these swirling sounds suck you in slowly and you soon find yourself in a zen-like state that's normally reserved for shoegazers; the looping melody of the awesome seven-minute "Sunny Morning" or the abbreviated melange of distortion that is "Let it Play" graphically illustrate what I'm thinking of here. Hear those echoing keys and distant guitars. The arrival of morning on "In Union With..." has rarely been soundtracked more appropriately. Space travel, a frequent favorite musical metaphor of mine, once again re-enters via 60s French pop (or Stereolab?) on "Guilty," but it's so subtle you never really notice. There's no kitsch and there's not really any Can to speak of either. It's just barely there so that you know this isn't an album conjured up in the midst of a sunny day in Glasgow.

A lot of talk in recent times surrounding France has been all about the dirty electro of Ed Banger or the wonderful world of suburban hip-hop that took center-stage following riots in late '05 and on into last year. It's justified, of course, but rarely does anyone mention French post-rock... And maybe there's a reason for that. Cyann & Ben aren't it. This is one of the most engaging records of the year for me, and I'm not even on my These Arms Are Snakes adrenaline rush anymore. I've settled down; alongside a couple of clever guys from Brooklyn, Cyann & Ben helped me get there. Like M83, Cyann & Ben are best listened to in full and when you're feeling totally finished. Some music was simply meant to lift the spirits of the common man. While critics go about postulating on the implications of this deal where they'll soundtrack "THX-1180" at some film festival, those of us just trying to get by with our nine-to-fivers might find our own answers between the lines. Inner Current and Cyann & Ben give you at least temporary respite from the chaos of daily life These Arms Are Snakes are out to perpetuate. End your pathos here, friend. You'll be glad you did.

Radio Show Playlist 3/07

6a:
1. The Velvet Underground - Ocean - Live 1969 with Lou Reed (PolyGram 1988)
2. The Besnard Lakes - For Agent 13 - The Besnard Lakes are the Dark Horse (Jagjaguwar 2007)
3. Bonobo - Transmission 94 (Parts 1 & 2) - Days to Come (Ninja Tune 2006)
4. Baja - Nona's Theme - Maps/Systemalheur (Stilll 2006)
5. Gato Barbieri - India - Latino America (Impulse! 1973)
6. Anga - A Love Supreme - Echu Mingua (Nonesuch 2007)
7. Antibalas - Hilo - Security (Anti- 2007)
8. Hallelujah Chicken Run Band - Mwana Wamai Dada Naya - Golden Afrique Vol. 3 (Network 2006)
9. Eddy Senay - Ain't No Sunshine - Hot Thang (Sussex 1972)

7a:
1. The Eternals - This Mix is So Bizarre - Heavy International (Aesthetics 2007)
2. Group Doueh - Cheyla Ya Haiunne - Guitar Music from the Western Sahara (Sublime Frequencies 2007)
3. SJ Esau - All Agog - Wrong Faced Cat Feed Collapse (Anticon 2007)
4. Fruit Bats - A Bit of Wind - Mouthfuls (Sub Pop 2003)
5. On!Air!Library! - Pass the Mic pt. 2 - Split EP with The Album Leaf (Arena Rock 2003)
6. Broadcast - Still Feels Like Tears - Pendulum EP (WARP 2003)
7. Low - Belarus - Drums & Guns (Sub Pop 2007)
8. Papercuts - Summer Long - Can't Go Back (Gnomonsong 2007)
9. Califone - The Orchids - Roots & Crowns (Thrill Jockey 2006)
10. Scott Walker - Boy Child - Scott 4 (Mercury 1969)
11. Archie Whitewater - Cross Country - Archie Whitewater (Cadet Concept 1970)
12. Bob & Gene - Gotta Find a Way - If This World Were Mine... (originally 196?, Daptone 2007)
13. Herbie Mann - Yardbird Suite - Yardbird Suite (Savoy 1957)

New Music: Low, Group Doueh, Pole

Low - Breaker (Sub Pop 2007)

Low – Drums and Guns / Sub Pop

From what I can tell (using my very amateur art interpretation skills), Bridget Riversmith’s full painting, which is cropped on the inside cover of Low’s latest album, Drums and Guns, features a ring of streaming birds entering the ears of a sheep-like creature with a wolf’s face. Painted with chalky grey gouache, it’s austere in its minimalism; it’s deceptively simple thanks to fine craftsmanship and shrouded with curiosity leaving the viewer to decide on his or her own context. You either get wonderfully lost in the hypnotic, grey landscape or moved by its odd content, and it acts as a pretty good visual representation of Low’s music: minimal, tenderly and masterfully constructed, organic yet odd, draped with a mysterious but strongly felt emotion, pleasantly awkward and undeniably hypnotic.

Alan Sparhawk, Mimi Parker and their latest bass player, Matt Livingston, have been creating this type of slow-burning music for nearly 15 years now, so I seriously doubt that my descriptions are anywhere near original, but it’s just something that seems appropriate when talking about this band. Inspired as an antithesis to the crunchy grunge scene that ravaged the early 90s, Low have stayed pretty much completely devoted to their minimalist sound, though their jump to Sub Pop a few years back and working with producer Dave Fridmann (Flaming Lips, Mogwai, Sleater-Kinney) has resulted in slightly more elaborate productions and some following negative criticism. Drums and Guns finds the Duluth, Minnesota trio once again experimenting with new elements like drum machines and looped vocals, but returns somewhat to the sound they established while on Kranky Records. While 2005’s The Great Destroyer featured more of a rackety almost wall-of-soundish approach, Drums and Guns samples that racket and lets it quietly stir beneath the surface. Almost like they wrote the album, then took those pieces and re-assembled them in a new, shuffling fashion.

The comparison that keeps jumping into my head is Califone’s Roots & Crowns; the striking combination of rustic, organic instrumentation and lush melodies with noisy (though subdued) elements like feedback and electronics. “Pretty People” opens the album with that restricted, crunchy feedback before Sparhawk begins crooning about how everyone is going to die eventually over sparse piano chords, loose guitar strums and distant bass drum knocks. “Belarus” follows with a completely different sound, loose and melodic. It sounds more Juana Molina than anything with relaxed pings, ebbing strings, throbbing bass and Sparhawk and Parker’s poignant vocal harmonies. Building the momentum, “Breaker” begins with tranquil organ chords and a simple drum machine and hand-clapping beat before the vocals and murderous lyrics come back full-force over a reversed and feedbacking electric guitar. The rest of the album continues on the same vibe: a mixture of soul-turning melodies and crunching electronics, gorgeous vocal harmonies and violent lyrics, a slow-burning mood with an incredible sense of urgency. Or in other words, Low doing what they do best. I could go on describing the tracks, the CocoRosie shuffle of “Dragonfly,” the opening a cappella and throwback sound of “Yoru Poison,” and the surprising buoyancy of “Hatchet,” but I don’t want to unearth all the subtleties of the album so you’re left with at least a few surprises.

When a band has spent fifteen years in the game, it’s all about re-inventing themselves without losing the idiosyncrasies that has kept them afloat for so long. In my opinion, Low has done a phenomenal job doing just that throughout their career, though expectations rise with each album and harsher criticism (like that for The Great Destroyer) is inevitable. It’s hard to predict how the people let down by their Sub Pop debut will react to Drums and Guns, but I’m thinking it’s going to be more for the positive. It’s an excellent record that finds a nice middle ground between their early and later styles with a continued exploration into more electronic manipulations. Hypnotic, elegant, odd and mysterious, it’s all the reasons we love Low.






Group Doueh - Wazan Samat (Sublime Frequencies 2007)

Group Doueh – Guitar Music from the Western Sahara / Sublime Frequencies

From the opening moments of Guitar Music from the Western Sahara you know you are in for a treat. After a brief introduction, Doueh's electric guitar blasts out of the raw recording with an odd combination of styles that has a sort of bluesy wah-wah deal going on while an exuberant chorus care of two ladies singing at the top of their lungs easily overmodulates within the tiny frequency bandwidth. If crisp production is your thing though, I seriously doubt you would have headed in Sublime Frequencies direction in the first place. This is for us audiophiles that listen to music just to be baffled and awestruck.

On the far west side of the Sahara, somewhere between the fuzzy borders of Mauritania and the Morroco-annexed territory known as Western Sahara, Baamar Salmou aka Doueh, his wife, son and friend jam under the name Goup Droueh. Their style is one in its own led by the unpredictable and intricate fingers of Salmou on his unrelenting electric guitar. While based in the local Mauritanian modal structure, Salmou relies as much on the psychedelic stylings of Hendrix and the energetic funk of James Brown as the hypnotic, trance-like Gnawan music from Morocco and other regional styles. He plays with almost the same fractured manner as, believe it or not, Tim Kinsella in his Make Believe guise, but with a phase shifter and in scales we could only dream of understanding. Elliptical melodies gallop out of the unhinged virtuosity of Salmou while being joined by loose percussion, almost unrecognizable keyboards at points and the jubilant screams of his wife and her friend. It's joyous and you don't know why, and I doubt you'll care after being immersed in the sound for a while.

Personally, I think the album gets better as it progresses. The first couple tracks grab your undivided attention, but not until "Fagu" do you realize that you are listening to something special. Salmou runs up and down foreign scales very quickly in a jerky yet loose method that doesn't sound unlike Spencer Seim or Kinsella, as I mentioned earlier. "Dun Dan" begins a bit more subdued but builds into a chugging tune with oddly placed drum machine toms in one of the many wonderful what-the-fuck-that-was-awesome moments of the disc. "Wazan Samat" follows with an irresistible hand-clap rhythm and roundabout vocals as Salmou snakes in the background, and the final track, "Cheyla Ya Haiuune," is the poppiest of the group that almost effervesces at points when Salmou's tight harmonic bubbles meet Hendrix-like solos. Group Doueh produces music that is innately foreign to our ears but not all-together alien. You can understand where he's coming from, but it's nearly impossible to predict what's next which makes Guitar Music from the Western Sahara so much jaw-dropping fun.






Pole - Pferd (~scape 2007)

Pole – Steingarten / ~scape

Sefan Betke has never made music for the dancefloor though it’s hard to separate him from his fellow post-techno Berlinites. Under the moniker Pole, he pushed the boundaries of minimalist experimentation drawing elements of dub, hip-hop, techno, IDM and musique concrète to create the subtle mechanical throb of sound-architecture. Built from the idiosyncratic crackling-hum of a damaged Waldorf-4-Pole filter, Betke established himself through three numerically-named (1, 2, 3) albums in the late 90s and opened the doors of experimental electronica label ~scape with Barbara Presinger in ’99 which has released records by Jan Jelinek, Safety Scissors, John Tejada and other similar-minded artists. In recent years though, Betke has been incorporating more and more familiar structures in his music and with Steingarten, Pole is closer to the dancefloor than he’s ever been.

Now don’t get me wrong, Betke has not scrapped his filters for synthesizers just yet, but these songs have easily distinguishable bpms and head-nodding if not danceable rhythms. The mechanical hums and clanks still make up the majority of the building materials and subtle melodies are created out of the harmonic vibrations made from two pieces of metal clanging together and filtered through dub-like echo triggers. Think John Tejada with broken equipment. His clever manipulation of static white noise and feedback reappear on many occasions adding texture and depth to the sparse arrangements. “Jungs” for example rides an offbeat bass thump and bright, crackling spritzes of melodic static dipped in dub-like reverberation and builds over seven minutes from a groovy club number to disorienting and fraying noise. I’m a bit partial to the more minimal, exploratory tracks that reach back to early Pole like “Mädchen,” which builds from high-pitched glass hums and sparse, crunchy beats or the much more rhythmic “Düsseldorf” that features a number of different throbbing mechanics slowly coming together into one smoothly running engine. Closer, “Pferd,” has to be the strongest track though thanks to a much more relaxed IDM beat and ghostly melodica echoes; in fact, if the entire album was more in that style, I’d probably be ranting and raving all over the page. Like 2003’s Pole, Steingarten finds Betke utilizing more and more techno-oriented structures with his patented factory-damaged sound. It does not approach his early minimalist experimentations, but the increasing accessibility will bring in a lot of post-IDM fans. As for me, I can’t shake the image of a CGI animated factory chugging along in happy rhythm to Pole’s mechanical bounce.

New Music: Fursaxa, Wolf & Cub, Christa Pfangen

Fursaxa - Alone In The Dark Wood (Eclipse 2007)

Fursaxa - Alone In The Dark Wood / Eclipse

Music, at its very best, should be a vehicle to another place. Like a beam of pure information expanding your senses, informing them of this new surrounding, sight, sound, smell, wholly convincing in its realness. There's a million angles to take when reviewing a record. I tend to always spout off about location, certain sounds evoking Finland, having my morning coffee, floating through space, or whatever; the point is I like music to vividly construct a scene, to set entirely fabricated worlds in motion. So hopefully now you can understand my joy in discovering a new Fursaxa record. Its not easy keeping up with the world of handpainted cd-r's and Geocities homepages but apparently Alone In The Dark Woods is out on LP through Eclipse Records, to be released later this year on CD by All Tomorrow's Parties (or ATP).

If you're not already filled in on Fursaxa (aka Tara Burke), its a long, winding road but lets get you up to speed. It'd be easy to lump Fursaxa in with the New Weird America crowd, but the spirits that Burke channels exist on a different plane, freakier and folkier than where Devendra Banhartt dwells, and more medieval than Joanna Newsom. Its this kind of 12th century world where nature worship is a very big thing, most likely because its a tangible religion. Sitting by the stream at night, you can see the water nymphs sparkling just below the water's placid surface. It really is that intense. The most effective instrument here is Tara Burke's voice, echoing the same sadness as Nico, but instead of Chelsea Girl, its more like Benedictine Girl. Often being looped many times over, her vocals combine in different timbres to resemble Mass being chanted by a large congregation. Churches do exist in Fursaxa's world, as places full of reverance and that weird, chilling sensation you get when inside such monolithic structures.



Its amazing how Fursaxa always creates a wardrobe effect. Open the doors and step inside, follow that voice deeper and deeper into another world. Burke uses her voice brilliantly to propel her songs, deceptively simple instrumentation combines with cavernous, swelling chants to overwhelming effect. Its a feature of Fursaxa that I think Burke is conscious of, the seventeen second "Intro" serves to sweep you along into receptiveness. The first half of the record is especially funereal, culminating in the title track's black forest feel, disembodied voices echoing through the trees as a lone traveler plucks away nervously around the fire. "Nawne Ye" is the sound of a pagan harvest ceremony, invoking earth-bound spirits to insure good crops and prosperity. "In The Hollow Mink Shoal" begins as a sweet lullaby only to be swallow by quickly rising guitar, sounding almost celebratory. This is a familiar pattern of Fursaxa albums; Burke always mires things in darkness before delivering us with cleansing white magic.

Alone In The Dark Woods is a memorable entry into Fursaxa's already deep discography, and its no surprise she is championed by the highly reputable likes of Thurston Moore and Makoto Kawabata. Burke is a true visionairy, decidely single-minded and legitimately ancient, with determination to forge her own sound. This is timeless music offering the purest possible sense of escape to far away places in time and space.




Wolf & Cub - Steal Their Gold (4AD 2007)

Wolf & Cub - Vessels / 4AD

Ok, I've gotta admit this one caught me off-guard. Life is hard and you can't hear everything, not even the truest Audiversitarian. History shows that Wolf bands are good. The cover art is of this hash party full of all sorts of oddities. Firmly convinced, I played this for the first time at this record store where I work and for the duration of the album kept getting backhanded by all the rock-n-roll theatrics, all the smart tricks of the trade, that I was constantly made to pronounce to my coworker incomprehensibly dudetastic statements like, "Man..this is real rock-n-roll right here!!". This Australian group may be their country's best rock export since AC/DC...and blame it on my southern heritage but AC/DC are true r'n'r greats. Thats Wolf & Cub's trick, to be totally amorphous, cleverly picking through all that is good in rock music and sprinkling bits here and there to create a sound as much apart of the past as it is of the future.

Title track,"Vessels", plunges you in deep right away, plowing ahead with decadent swagger, riffing long and hard like the Stooges circa Funhouse. "This Mess" would be a choice single, stomping akin to Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out" but with way more muscle, eventually sporting a burly lead guitar veering into rock god territory, as much devoted to the MC5 as it is to Molly Hatchet. Tracks like "Rozalia Bizarre" and "Conundrum" are awash in heavy feedback and psychedelic intentions; these tracks showing that Wolf & Cub are equally adept at jamming out into krauty oblivion, and based on their dexterity here I'd like for these guys to extend themselves a bit more into the ten minute realm. Singer/lone guitarist, Joel Byrne, is a more than adequate frontman whose vocal style falls somewhere between Iggy Pop and Primal Scream's Bobby Gillespie on the wonderful but semi-forgotten record, XTRMNTR. Theres a definite dance undercurrent to all this rock-n-roll fervor, a track like "March of the Clouds" would be well-suited for remix action from someone like the Presets. Some consider it heresy to combine rock and dance but we must keep forging forward, potential pitfalls and all.

Wolf & Cub's music is a rare beast, as strong as it is smart. The influences are there to see but never easily pinned. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that this music perfectly combines all the right ingredients from the past thirty years of rock history, broken down and reassembled into a coherent sound, existing inside of an ever-shifting but believable framework of reference points. So raise your fist for rock-n-roll, Vessels may be the cream of '07.




Christa Pfangen - Today (Die Schachtel 2007)

Christa Pfangen - Watch Me Getting Back The End / Die Schachtel

Sorry for the shoddy representation of the album cover but there are some things even Google can't do. But I'm not too surprised, especially when general consensus of this group leans heavily on words like "enigmatic", "improvisational", and the dreaded "unclassifiable". However, it is certain that Christa Pfangen is the female Italian duo of Andrea Belfi and Mattia Coletti, and NOT the actual Christa Pfangen (better known to us as Nico). Further investigation reveals a whole new world of Italian experimental music. Aside from knowing Larsen and Ovo, I have to admit complete ignorance of Italy's avant garde scene. Die Schachtel seems to be the place, though, a label with a solid ideological base; "Die Schachtel" apparently being a metaphor for, amongst other things, the conceptual and creative space occupied by both composers and publishers of music.

You can throw alot of terms at Christa Pfangen but none of them truly stick. Watch Me Getting Back The End will be attractive to fans of Animal Collective's type of playful abstraction, the tricky technical wizardry of Battles, or Sigur Ros's post-rock soundscapes. More specifically, this duo creates electro-acoustic alchemy with an improvisational feel. Despite the improv tag, Christa Pfangen manages to be quite fluid, employing treated voice to smooth things over, to add a touch of human warmth, although proceedings rarely veer into the red, avoiding becoming too skronky or wanky. "Today" is a song of soft edges and watercolor sensibilities, two voices interlocking in harmony as guitar and drum turn tricks in the distance. The drumming here is exceptional, sometimes free jazz kit work and at other times, like on "Showing You How A Soft Beat Works As Well", settling into a surprisingly deliberate breakbeat.

For all their experimentation, Christa Pfangen makes surprisingly pleasant music. There's peace made between guitar and drum interplay, hugged by rich electronic washes and gentle voices bereft of words. Watch Me Getting Back The End has alot of potential appeal, especially to the internet-seekers here in the States. And while I'd love to see these Italian musicians get their due, lets try to avoid making Italo electro-acoustic avant garde another passing blogosphere trend.

Used-Bin Bargains: Lee "Scratch" Perry

Sorry about the absence last week. We have been uber-productive lately and I think we deserved the weekend off.



Lee "Scratch" Perry - People Funny Boy (Upsetter 1968)

Watty Burnett - Rainy Night in Portland (Upsetter 1977)

Lee “Scratch” Perry - A Live Injection: Anthology 1968 to 1979 / Trojan

As anyone knows who has even just explored the surface of reggae music, Lee “Scratch” Perry is one of if not the most prolific producer in shaping the sound of reggae, and his colorful background only sweetens the legend. Burned bridges, copyright infringements, stolen masters, mental deterioration, whacked out sound experiments, fire-starting demons, its all there, as well as a mind-boggling number of singles and dubs that has solidified Perry among music’s most interesting careers. As if getting a clear account of what actually happened during his most potent era of music making in the early 70s isn’t hard enough already, attempting to find a good starting point or a conclusive representation of these years in his massive discography is damn near impossible. There have been many, many compilations of Perry’s music put together over the years attempting to pull the best of particular stages of his career, but for my particular tastes as well as being a good assessment of the mammoth role he had in guiding the development of reggae music, 2000’s A Live Injection: Anthology 1968 to 1979 on what should already be your starting point for anything reggae, Trojan Records, takes the cake. A double record anthologizing some of Perry’s most popular productions from the heyday of Upsetter Records is near impossible to beat if you want to really understand his contribution to the genre and scene.

Stories obviously vary among the many artists involved in the late 60s Jamaican music scene of when exactly and by whom ska was mutated into the rollicking reggae genre we know today, but most fingers point directly to 1968’s “People Funny Boy.” The first track of the compilation and one of the most infamous in the entire genre, Perry’s pissed-off rant at former employer Joe Gibbs ushered in a new Jamaican sound that sold amazingly and showcased the ferocity possible within the music. Perry took “Long Shot” by The Pioneers, a collaboration between the two producers, and flipped the gentle rocksteady riddim into a chugging backing track for Perry’s aggravated insults and genius use of a sample of a baby crying. It was Upsetter 001 and introduced the new wave of what was soon to be called reggae. From here the compilation moves chronologically through the end of the 60s and right on until 1979, about the time he burned down his studio, The Black Ark, in a fit of rage and stress (though the story varies). The majority of the tracks feature Perry as producer and arranger rather than as the songwriter and performer, which makes it almost just reggae’s greatest hits from the era. If you are looking for more of a mix of original songs, remixes and dubs, checkout out 1997’s three-disc Arkology on Island Jamaica, but for a great assessment of Perry’s ability to take an artist to the next level, stick with A Live Injection.

Three of the six pre-1970 tracks come care of Perry’s studio band The Upsetters, featuring Alva Lewis on guitar, Glen Adams on organ and perhaps the greatest rhythm section the genre ever saw, brothers Aston “Family Man” Barrett on bass and Carlton Barrett on drums. They were instrumental in the development of the sound, and 1969’s sax-riding “Return of Django” was not only a huge hit in Jamaica but introduced the genre to the UK as a #5 hit single. From here we begin to get into Perry as the producer with the infectious keyboards and uplifting vocals of The Bleecher’s “Come Into My Parlour” from 1969 and two of the most important early reggae singles, Bob Marley & the Wailers’ “Duppy Conqueror” and “Place Called Africa” from Junior Byles. The first of three tracks from the important and sometimes sadly ignored (by the mainstream) Perry/Marley collaborations, “Duppy Conqueror” (as well as “Small Axe” a few tracks later and “Keep on Skanking” on disc two) showcases the potency of what two such prolific artists can create when working together. Like Perry, Marley eventually conflicted with Coxsone Dodd and left Studio One to work with the Upsetters. The alliance only lasted a year and resulted in life-long recording rights disputes, but there were some great results that in my opinion eclipse Catch a Fire and Burnin’ released a few years later. Junior Byles’ beautiful “Place Called Africa” from 1971 instigated the repatriation theme in reggae music and featured one of Perry’s most elegant arrangements, the gentle riddim and twirling melodica melody easily match Byles angelic vocals and bittersweet lyrics. Dennis Alcapone’s version, “Africa Stand,” follows and hints at dancehall and rap as Perry dubs the Byles track for Alcapone’s toasting. Byles and Perry team up for a few more tracks over the course of the compilation including the heralded and rebellious “Beat Down Babylon” and the evocative “Curly Locks” from 1974 that finds Perry at his most elegant.

The rest of disc one features productions through 1973, including a couple of pop covers like Busty Brown’s lively rendition of “My Girl” and Horense Ellis’ soulful “Just One Look,” some elaborations of his own tunes, like Neville Grant’s “Sick and Tired” which builds on “Return of Django,” and previews of the wackiness yet to come like I Roy’s sci-fi sample-heavy “Space Flight” and Perry’s own quirky “Bucky Skank.” At this point as we switch to disc two, Perry has built The Black Ark in his backyard and his arrangements began to take life of their own. The production actually seems to sag in fidelity because of the poor recording equipment in the Ark, but the arrangements more inventive thanks to his ability to work in the studio whenever he liked. The ambidexterity of his backing tracks are easily heard in Delroy Denton’s “Give Thanks” and Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace’s “Herb Vendor,” both from ’74. They each utilized the same easy-going Perry riddim, but counteractively Denton’s version comes off spiritual and moving while Wallace’s seems playful and chill. Also as the tracks and concurrently year of production progress, the little recording quirks begin to multiply, like the playful sound-effects and instruments on Judge Winchester’s “Public Jestering” (which reminds me a lot of his work with Dr. Alimantado) and the vocal overdubs of The Upsetter’s “Enter the Dragon.” He also seems to take an interest in particularly soul music whose likeliness shows up on multiple occasions in the second half of the 70s. Mighty Diamonds’ “Talk About It,” Junior Delgado’s “Sons of Slaves” and especially the wonderful “Rainy Night in Portland” by Watty Burnett all clock in at over six-minutes and feature hypnotic combinations of soul, reggae and dub. It would have been interesting to see what would of became of Perry if he had stuck with the musical pathway, but alas, as heard on “White Belly Rat” (a name he has adopted for his latest band) from 1976, odd, quirky, rambling vocals over inventive productions would be the norm (if you can call it normal) from here on out.

In the early 80s, Perry’s livelihood of long hours cooped up in a small studio, the stress of the Jamaican recording industry (and you thought rap was a tough world to live in) and the combination of psychedelic drugs took their final toll on Perry and he burned down the Black Ark convinced that Satan had taken refuge there. Regardless, Perry has continued to produce an unbelievable amount of music over the years and while there is a lot of shit to sort through with his discography in the 80s, 90s and 00s, there gems sprinkled through out including most recently Panic in Babylon (an Audiversity favorite) originally out on Damp in 2004 and re-released through Narnack in 2006. But if you are aching for some classic Perry production from the 70s, grab A Live Injection: Anthology 1968 to 1979 and you will not be disappointed. If you are more interested in Perry solo albums from the era, check out 1976’s Super Ape on Island and 1978’s Roast Fish Collie Weed & Corn Bread on VP as well as the many compilations covering that time period. I suggest doing your research first though, because Perry is the quintessential hit-or-miss artist and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of his genius/lunacy.

New Music: Klaxons, LCD Soundsystem

In a month of big-deal releases (as is the way of the industry), two in particular will appeal to those more interested in dance music. They are two groups both diametrically opposed and inextricably linked. They are the current faces of rock-meets-dance. Their approaches are radically different, the end-product is no less the same, and yet both are combating a torrent of publicity on both sides of the Atlantic. It now seems appropriate for that post.













Klaxons - It's Not Over Yet (Geffen 2007)

Klaxons - Myths of the Near Future / Geffen

The first half of this post is the story of a group that has taken the mantle of This Year's "It" Brits. The ink spilled both for and against this band has been phenomenal in The Isles, but at last Americans get to see what all this New Rave lark is about in its purest form. Indeed, the Midlands-bred New Cross kids in Klaxons are seen as the torchbearers of a movement that has swept through the UK almost as fast as Arctic Monkeys in the fall of '05 (though Hadouken! deserve a mention here as "That Boy That Girl" is obnoxiously catchy; Shitdisco ain't half-bad either). While the 'Monkeys are busy recording with Dizzee Rascal and working with James Ford for their sophomore let-down, Klaxons are busy on the up-and-up kicking up a neon-inflected storm of press for their debut.

There is plenty of reason to be skeptical. Their garb is ecstasy chic and their Kicks Like a Mule-inspired debut single "Atlantis to Interzone" has all the literal alarms and buoyant exuberance a movement like rave once inspired. What people love to hate about rave is that it seems like such a transitory stage or phase: Rave doesn't think long-term, it thinks tonight and tonight alone. Such are the ways of hedonism. Why would anyone want this back other than the disintergration of a lot of institutions as we know them (the media and, more particularly, the music industry) is causing a lot of people to take an almost apocalyptic-fatalistic view of the future? Is this a myth? Who cares? Where's the next available hangar party?

So Klaxons become the faces of the hear-and-now. Even the Arctic Monkeys, foreigners du jour this time last year, seem irrelevant with their merely classic four-piece guitar-rock. Klaxons are both the past and the future. That's an awfully weighty burden to carry considering their debut is only just now coming out here. The expectation is that, this time next year, we will be remembering Klaxons with a shrug, a laugh or a frown and consternation... because we won't be able to remember anything except those air-raid sirens in "Atlantis to Interzone." Ah, is that who that was? I guess that's why they named themselves after the Greek verb of "to shriek."

The thing about Myths of the Near Future, ironically enough, is that for all its tricky electronics and sizzling samples, it too is but a mere guitar record. This is the great paradox that might make them as enduring as, well, Kicks Like a Mule. Somebody will remember them. Chances are, they're going to be remembered less for the surprisingly good album that this is and more for a movement that may or may not exist.

Which brings in another aspect to this story: NME. Though they get lambasted practically daily by professional and amateur critics alike for making up scenes, christening nobodies as the Next Bit Things, playing the home-favoritism card, and stirring up trouble, there are two things naysayers don't like talking about: They have to make a weekly magazine that will sell (which a lot of people are struggling with), and occasionally they get it right. They might've made up New Rave, they might be quick to christen Klaxons as Christ v.2007, they might be Union Jacking off... But the reality is, they may actually have gotten it right. Klaxons are good, and not just for their music.

My mother once completed "Gravity's Rainbow." I know five people who not only read it but understood it, her included. Precious few people have attempted to even cite Pynchon in song (Laurie Anderson, Pat Benatar... They're out there), but for these guys to do it seems almost offensive and still remains totally logical: They're dropping Burroughs references in a postmodern context. They have deconstructed post-punk, Brit-pop and, yes, rave. They rebuilt it in their own image. You think this is just music for the kids, and it sure sounds like that on "Atlantis to Interzone" or "Magick"... But "Two Receivers" fades in and is comparatively mellow. Clearly they think album and not just song. "It's Not Over Yet" is a pop song, as straightforward as anything on the radio here in the US. And their amusing cover of Justin Timberlake's "My Love" shows they're informed equally by the pop charts as they are about tech-house or math-rock.

Ultimately, Klaxons aren't just presenting kids with music for a good time. They're presenting them with an idea of the potential for a subculture to evolve beyond its own self-imposed parameters. Is it genius? Maybe not. For now though (and maybe only for now), Klaxons are looking like the one New Rave group that may outlast the movement it incidentally started. Myths of the Near Future is their argument.













LCD Soundsystem - Get Innocuous (DFA / Capitol 2007)

LCD Soundsystem - Sound of Silver / DFA/Capitol

On the flipside of the Here-And-Now is the Always-And-Forever. For dance music, the latter has always been something of a struggle: At some point, the hangar has to empty out, the dawn has to show itself, the turntables have to take a hiatus for repairs so we can catch our collective breath. James Murphy was already ahead of us when he set sail with the eponymous Losing My Edge 12". We know now what that did not just for the DFA or dance but for New York City and the very concept of "rock" itself. Genre-bending, genre-bleeding, genre-breaking: LCD Soundsystem was the active musical laboratory that captured hearts and minds throughout 2003 and on into '04. By the time of LCD's self-titled debut, kids were asking how he could top his singles.

As we now know, he didn't. Murphy avoided the question totally by thinking in terms of The Album, long expected to be dead by the end of this decade. Halfway through the Noughties and with over 60,000 copies sold, it's hard to argue The Album is obsolete. There were flaws in LCD Soundsystem, of course. Some of those songs needed to be trimmed. Some needed to be cut totally. Some just weren't "funny." How do you fight that? Sometimes, Siouxsie & the Banshees or Harry Nilsson covers just aren't enough. Sometimes you just have to go out there and fight it with something better. For a lot of people, 45:33 was it. But for the rest of us, Sound of Silver will have to suffice.

The brilliant thing about LCD Soundsystem is that it's become a rolling musical experiment in every possible way, bigger than mere songs: From the viral marketing campaign to go #2 on the charts to Murphy's off-kilter blog over at The Guardian... This is a band a ton of people want to love even though they're on a major and the RIAA comes after pretty much anyone who posts an mp3 of an album that leaked in early December. Funny how that works, isn't it? We grovel at the feet of a guy whose music is relatively airtight. Just check The Hype Machine... Then get innocuous while you can. Chances are it'll be down by the end of the weekend even with an impending release.

I don't mean to jinx myself, but you get the point: LCD Soundsystem is a big deal. They've done a lot for rock, but they've done more for dance music by giving it a sense of timelessness rather than timeliness. Sound of Silver is no different. This is a better album than the debut. "Get Innocuous" is both an incredible opener and a legitimate jab at dance itself: Critiquing the very nature of the extended mix, then running for over seven minutes. It's exactly what you want, even if the processed vocals add an Eno-ish element that had been reserved for the finale on the first album. Can't wait for the 12".

"Time to Get Away" and "North American Scum" are more song than dance, but already you've gotten the idea: Murphy isn't interested in just being clever. He wants you to dance, he wants you to think, he wants you to listen, he wants you to cross your arms and proclaim that you're above it all. Either way, you look like an idiot. If the press gets a kick out of pointing out how the joke's on Murphy as much as the listener, imagine what fun James must have creating this stuff and watching all of us imbeciles adore him for it. The joke is the best in music.

LCD Soundsystem - New York I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down

And it comes out best in "New York I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down." This is the other LCD Soundsystem that gets all the critical acclaim but doesn't rear its head quite as often as the dancefloor anthems of its alter-ego. A touching display with lyrics as high up in the mix as ever before and a piano Billy Joel wished he'd been dumb enough to think of, Murphy laments the passing of his city... Then shrugs it off by saying it's "the one pool I'd happily drown." Coy. Cue fade-out. Murphy once said that he likes making music he feels confident putting on the shelf next to his favorites (Public Image Ltd., Can, Talking Heads, cf. "Losing My Edge"). A lot of people were worried that this whole dancepunk/punk-funk/disco-rock thing would be out by the end of '05. They reckoned that was the albatross... But the great don't settle.

Maybe those days are over. If they are, Sound of Silver both does and doesn't pay any mind. It brings the party and cleans up the mess when it's over. For that I will happily buy two copies on Tuesday to expose the flaws of the industry, why not? Seems like just as good a joke as dressing in tracksuits and snapping glowsticks to "Four Horsemen of 2012." But the construction, the arc of these two albums is both subtle and brilliant. While we busy ourselves with Bpitch Control and Ed Banger, while we imagine the Simian Mobile Disco LP or dream up how Interpol will make the same set of songs three times, Klaxons and LCD Soundsystem are here now. And for two superlative albums, you won't know what to think about modern music. The stuff of legends or the stuff of passing fads? Ask me in two decades when no one will care about our glory days and the party is over. Whatever that means.

New Music: Golden Afrique Vol. 3, Anga

West Nkosi - Dubaduba (Network 2006)

Hallelujah Chicken Run Band - Mwana Wamai Dada Naya (Network 2006)

Various Artists – Golden Afrique Vol. 3 / Network

I have spent the last couple of days trying to figure out how to approach reviewing the third installment of the Golden Afrique series which compiles some of Africa’s most popular music from the 60s, 70s and 80s. Volume 1 concentrated on the “classic era of African music,” 1971 through 1983, and Volume 2 focused on Congolese dance music. This entry is devoted to the somewhat musically separated southern section of the continent, especially South Africa, Zimbabwe and Zambia. The dilemma is not that I don’t enjoy the music, quite the contrary actually, it’s incredibly infectious and I would recommend it to anybody looking to explore the great music of Africa, but more so I’m worried about not being able to a contribute any significant insight to accompany my recommendation. It is incredibly hard to judge music’s essentiality without being pretty familiar with the genre involved and the options available for comparison. African music is not alien to me by any means; my dad spent his teenage years living in Liberia and while he is not much of a music collector himself, I grew up at least being aware of Miriam Makeba, Ladysmith Black Mambazo and the more popular African artists, not to mention I’ve probably heard every rendition of “Mbube” in its 70-year existence. But even so, while the sound may be familiar, most of the names involved are still very foreign. Don’t worry though, I’m very much up to the task of diving in and giving it my best shot, but for peace of mind, I want to at least point you in the direction of the much more worldly mind of Peter Margasak and his review which points out the fact that this is not the most deeply dug out collection of songs from this particular time and place, but still it acts as an excellent introduction to the wonderfully vibrant scene of African music circa the 20th century.

The first disc concentrates on South Africa and the assortment of musical styles which appeared thanks to imported influences like gospel, jazz, soul and funk being intertwined with local styles of music, and of course the number one reason for a potent creative scene to arise, an oppressing government. For nearly fifty years beginning in 1948, South Africans were forced into a system of racial segregation called apartheid to keep European descendents in economic and political control of the region. And if we’ve learned anything from the history of music, from Tropicailia to Dischord, it’s that a protest song brings out the creative best in artists. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Disc 1 kicks off with original version of Solomon Linda’s “Mbube” from 1939, the longest legal battle songwriting has ever seen I believe (you see Linda sang “imbube imbube imbube imbube weeeeeeeeeeeee” and we sing “wimoweh wimoweh wimoweh wimoweh weeeeeeeeeee” [scoff]). The comp jumps nearly fifty years into the future with the second track, Ladysmith Black Mambazo’s “Hello My Baby,” an obvious spiritual descendent of “Mbube” and in the a cappella isicathamiya style that would eventually and rightfully be called mbube. From here on out though, the connections are less stylistic between the songs than geographical and spiritual. For example, the third track from a group/man called Abagqomi, who I can find no information about, has almost this Celtic vibe going on and a far cry from anything mbube. Also included in this disc are a number of recognizable names like the Soul Brothers, Hugh Masekela, Chris McGregor and Mama Afrika herself, Miriam Makeba, who puts forth a subtly funky political shout-out not falling too far from a Sly & the Family Stone song. Makeba’s one-time husband, Masekela joins Letta Mbulu (listed as Letha Mbulu) for an arousing soul song and jazz pianist McGregor contributes an excellent sprawling closer featuring early ska-tinged big band, post-bop, soul and hints of free jazz. But compilations like these are for discovering new artists and unexpected sounds, so let’s tune in to a few of the ones that are at least new to me. “Dubaduba“ from alto sax player West Nkosi is a wonderful song that would be described as funk if not for the absence of drum breaks, instead it rides on an elating mix of bright guitar chops, Nkosi’s wailing sax and hand shakers. The proclaimed “king of the groaners” Mahlathini and the Mahotella Queens offer “Thina Siyakhanyisa,” with an incredibly infectious tinny guitar tone and a rhythm that makes sitting still impossible, while Reggie Msomi’s Hollywood Jazz Band have a wonderful first wave ska jingle that makes “Midnight Ska” sound more New Orleans than anything else.

If you are an African music aficionado and are looking for significantly lesser known acts, head right on to the second disc which focuses more on Zimbabwe and Zambia. There is not one artist I recognize on this disc from my personal experience, but you can bet I’ll be keeping a watchful eye out for their names in the future. I am assuming that the majority of them are playing within a particular local style, which is a name I cannot provide for you but know that bright, bubbling electric-guitar and high-hat rhythms are the norm. The Four Brothers track “Guhwa Ur Mwana Waani,” which probably dates back to the very late 70s, is a great example of this and actually reminds me a lot of benga music minus the strong drummer presence. Smokey Haangala’s “Ba Kuluna” is on along the same lines, but either recorded much earlier or without the help of advanced production (I swear though, Haangala may have gotten a hold of some British pop records prior to laying down this song because there is some different influence). Similarly, Oliver Mtukudzi sounds like he was influenced by classic rock with the rolling organ line and loose groove; in fact, southern rock may be even a closer assessment! My favorite track of the entire compilation has got to be Hallelujah Chicken Run Band’s “Mwana Wamai Dada Naya” though. I guarantee it is one of the catchiest songs you’ll ever hear thanks to Thomas Mapfumo and his traditional Shona music mixed with modern funk and upbeat rock. The rest of the disc follows suit in variety, including Dolly Rathebe’s Billy Holliday-like jazz-blues, Master Chivero’s pre-Congotronic sound and Safirio Madzikatire’s use of a didgeridoo and ufo-like synth waves.

As Margasak said, it’s not the most essential or unique collection of songs ever compiled from the wonderfully creative and eclectic cultures of South Africa, but it’s incredibly contagious. If you are widely schooled in the region, this may not be as eye-opening to you as it is to us just approaching the intimidating (in the sense of expansiveness) scene, and really you should be doing us all a favor and put together your own compilation. But don’t be discouraged, Golden Afrique is a caringly put together series that is meant to reach the younger, rampant collectors like we Audiversitarians and expose us to the many exciting sounds of the world we otherwise may have never been able to experience. And next time (though I’m pretty content to just spin this one over and over), I’ll be a little more apt to write an insightful review.






Angà – Gandinga Mondongo Sandunga (Nonesuch 2006)

Angà – Echu Mingua / Nonesuch

I've probably just not been looking hard enough or at least in the wrong places because quality Latin-jazz is hard to come by these days. After completely immersing myself in the world of Tito Puente, Ray Barretto and Pucho, anything post-1990 comes off over-produced or cheesy in comparison. While I'm sure there have been a good number of exceptions to my bitching, one in particular does stand out which not only received the much coveted Audiversity seal-of-approval but also a little known award called a Grammy. Ry Cooder's exploratory trip to Cuba brought us the wonderfully nostalgic sounds of Ibrahim Ferrar and the Buena Vista Social Club almost a decade ago now, but since then, a good majority of the Club including Ferrar, Compay Segundo and pianist Rubén González (not to mention Puente and Barretto) have all left us for the great dancehall in the sky. We also lost another excellent Latin-jazz last year whose death went sorely unnoticed because he had yet to break into the American mainstream, but Nonesuch is making sure that he is not completely overlooked with the American release of Echu Mingua (which already received critical acclaim in the U.K.). Miguel "Angà" Diaz contributed not only to the Buena Vista Social Club, but also the precursor LP by the Afro-Cuban All Stars and even most of the spin-offs from both acts, but perhaps because of being in the next generation of Cuban jazz stars, he had yet to gain worldwide recognition. Echu Mingua very well could have been that breaking-out album as Angà explores the relationship between the African, Cuban and DJ cultures with a good amount of success.

Angà was mostly known for his five- (and sometimes seven-) conga technique, which was originally pioneered by Irakere drummer Lazaro Alfonso who Angà replaced after Alfonso's untimely death. That acclaimed Cuban jazz group brought Angà a lot of recognition (and a couple Grammy's) in the late 80s and early 90s before he left to explore other genres like avant-garde jazz and hip-hop. These influences are easily heard on Echu Mingua as Angà and his band, including bass player Orlando "Cochalto" López, Malian singer Baba Sissoko Sissoko, Parisian avant-garde flautist Magic Malik and pioneering French hip-hop star DJ Dee Nasty, ride a fine line between each genre. Obviously this is not the first time we've heard Latin music mixed with some turntablism, but very few seem to live up to the musicianship and quality of music heard on this album. Angà jumps styles frequently from the all out Latin party jam of "Conga Carnaval" to the classic Cuban sound of "Pueblo Nuevo" to jazz standards like Coltrane's "Love Supreme" (and a great rendition at that) and Monk's "Round Midnight" to the hip-hopish "Freeform," but he gets the most interesting results when he mixes up the styles. The classic Latin-jazz tune "Gandinga Mondongo Sandunga," for example, is built around Angà's tonal congas, but let's everyone solo in a post-bop-like manner while ghostly turntable scratches tie everything together. Or "Oda Maritima," which unites Argentinean music with Cuban and African percussion and features a fluid string section, an excellent bandoneon solo and subdued spoken word from Yinka Oyelwole. On only a few occasions does the music ever drift into over-the-top or cheesy form leaving about 75% of the album incredibly intriguing. Sadly though, Miguel "Angà" Diaz passed away last August at the way-too-young age of 45 and by the sound of Echu Mingua, we may have lost one of the most promising and pioneering Cuban jazz artists of the last generation.

New Music: Nurse & Soldier, Desert Hearts, My Brightest Diamond

Nurse & Soldier - Back in Yr Corner (Brah 2007)

Nurse & Soldier - Marginalia / Brah

After a long day interviewing at a career fair and looking pretty for the papers, it's back to the dirty business at hand: Writing about albums. Nurse & Soldier appear to be up for this. Marginalia certainly looks elegant enough upon first glance, even if that font recalls Mellon Collie & the Infinite Sadness. You think I'm kidding, but Nurse & Soldier luckily won't be an album where boys fear to tread. Though the provided information insists Bob Pollard is a major influence and you can indeed sometimes hear it, on tracks like "Back in Yr Corner" the Stereolab listening parties make themselves known. But it's not just Stereolab, because this isn't just some ordinary run-of-the-mill deal. This is Robertson fucking Thatcher, thank you very much (and by that I mean Bobby Matador of Oneida). The vocals are all Erica Fletcher, but beyond that all you really need to know is that there's a little more melody and a little less repetition than the main show up there at Brah (which is related to Jagjaguwar in case you haven't kept your labels straight). You can sort of hear the pop, but the real risks are taken in percussion and in the tinny sound of those organs Oneida loves so much ("Satellightning" is a good example of this). Fletcher's vocals sound like Stereolab when coupled with the right music (and I'm thinking of "Wrong" here), but ultimately Marginalia is not really a direct imitation of any one band. It just sounds like several good ones playing together. There have been many, many worse things in the world.

Wait, what? Pitchfork and PopMatters already did this? It's already in Stereogum's archives? Oh. Whoops. Nevermind.











Desert Hearts - Gravitas (Gargleblast 2006)

Desert Hearts - Hotsy Totsy Nagasaki / Gargleblast

Hotsy Totsy Nagasaki - now there's an album title PopMatters and Pitchfork wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. I know, when I first heard it I thought it was bloody ridiculous too. But it's sort of ridiculous in that 764-HERO kind of way because, really, did "hero" need to be capitalized? I just accept the gimmick and move on because this is a fantastic straightforward "purist" indie record. Not sure why I like the bounce of "D Moon Pilot" or "Ocean" and the slight dirge-with-Sonic Youth-noise effects of "Gravitas," but I do know that sometimes returning from whence you came will uncover new dogs for old tricks. This is one such case. The Belfast, Northern Ireland trio have a dozen songs to their credit on their sophomore album, but this one appears to be better than their debut Let's Get Worse, which was out on Rough Trade. They opened for Peaches. They opened for The White Stripes. They even opened for Bloc Party... But what does that mean without a good album? Don't ask the Mystery Jets. They wouldn't know either.











My Brightest Diamond - Golden Star (Alias remix) (Asthmatic Kitty 2007)

My Brightest Diamond - Tear it Down / Asthmatic Kitty

Add Shara Worden to that list. My Brighest Diamond is her alias and she's enjoyed a tremendous amount of success in the last year. Now she gets the honor of being remixed like a big-timer; hey, everyone else is doing it. What better time than now? If you didn't think Worden sounded like Bjork or Radiohead before, Tear it Down makes for a pretty good case in the best possible way. Wait, hang on, is that Goldfrapp? LCD Soundsystem? This just keeps getting better... She's like all the artists you wished would release material for '07 already (even though Goldfrapp did just come out with a remix album of her own...) rolled into one nice, neat little package. All credit to Asthmatic Kitty though, they did nab some pretty excellent (if not high-profile) remixers. Anticon's Alias is foremost among these, and by starting off the album he sets the agenda, manipulating "Golden Star" into a glitchy, Anticon-esque port o' beat. It's not alone. Alfred Brown's take on "Magic Rabbit" is just as stunning. Who would've guessed My Brightest Diamond would be capable? Nobody paying attention at home, I guess. Ah well. You caught me.

So that sounds like a lot of rockish stuff, doesn't it? Seems kind of half-assed? Getting a bit obvious for you? Yeah, I'm kind of sensing that also. Time for some sleep.