Hercules and Love Affair - "Hercules and Love Affair"

Hercules and Love Affair - True False, Fake Real (DFA 2008)

Hercules and Love Affair - Hercules and Love Affair / DFA

Andrew Butler is currently at the apex of a coming wave of dance music that I'm not sure he even knows is coming. Nevermind that part of the reason this record is so important is because it's on that hallowed label of cross-pollination, the DFA. Nevermind that Antony Hegarty of Antony & the Johnstons is on it. Nevermind that one of the biggest debates for this group so far has been over the name: Hercules & Love Affair, or Hercules and Love Affair?

The importance of Hercules and Love Affair (as the album artwork and DFA board now suggest) is this: They have distilled all of the new wave namedropping, all of the hipster posturing, and all of the bastardizations of Moroder in recent years and reached for something much purer. Disco, sans prefix, sans suffix, sans anything but the very music people spent two decades trying to bury the memory of and a little less than a decade trying to revive without seeming too forward. It feels like up until now, nobody has wanted to dip their pen in the ink of disco without first justifying it through tasteful (and often calculated) associations with post-punk or hip-hop or the electronic avant-garde at work in those days.

But the come-hithers of this record are undeniable. Have you heard "Hercules' Theme"?! How can you not get excited about a song that can only be described as a typical Saturday night out in 1978 for disco ducks across the world's major points of hedonistic convention? The answer is that your leather jacket and strong love of the Sex Pistols is stopping you. Linking New York to Rome to Miami to Chicago to Rio and back again, the bloodline of this horn-driven beat is almost as strong as the blow expected to come free with the first 500 pressings of the LP. Kidding. But you're getting the point: Even when Antony isn't on the vocals (and it's about even; he graces lead vocals on four of the album's ten tracks), the haze of the late 70s is strong.

"In truth," writes The Guardian's Peter Robinson, "this Hercules debut is a fairly arty and clever affair not overly preoccupied with provoking perilously wild dancefloor manouevres. But it is still, at its heart, an affectionate trawl through the last few decades of nightclub action." In fact, the opposite is true: Hercules and Love Affair is an arty and clever affair precisely because of its preoccupation with provoking wild dancefloor maneuvers from three decades ago. This album is locked in one specific time and insists that we can join them there, guilt-free, whenever we want. There's no Steve Rubell to stop you at the red rope.

Strain your eyes to see the other influences."You Belong" has shades of trip-hop and that patented DFA cowbell lingers among the percussion of both that and the almost-legendary "Blind," but this has the feeling of Miami in 1982 more than Brooklyn in 2002. I'm not sure what it was about "Iris" that got me, except that it acts as a gorgeous mid-album resetting of the pace in lieu of the high-profile first-half. "Easy" is a nocturnal glide on Antony's quivering accentuation that brings the record to its quietest point. From then on, the glitz and glamor of the first half give way to the after-party comedown closing the second-half. The imprint of the brass on "This is My Love" is indelible, but "True False, Fake Real" is one of the best album closers I've heard in a long time. As its descending chimes and sweeping strings close out the deceptively simple song on an astonishingly poignant note, the sounds of a typewriter clack away spilling the ink of future reviews like this one destined to christen Hercules and Love Affair as the next big bang (or bust; the answer is not clear and only Vince Aletti is probably laughing at this point). It is as close to perfect, as close to closing the circle that disco has left open for so many years, as anyone has ever come.

At the core of disco is dancing (for this is at the core of the existence of a discothèque). My own personal barometer for good disco is my girlfriend, who only listens to music she can rollerskate to. Even through poor speakers on repeat annoyingly ad nauseum, Hercules and Love Affair never wore out on her ears. It may be the only album from 2008 she's actually cared enough to notice, because she sees in this album what Butler sees: an intersection for people to dance to. Kim Ann Foxman has said that the objective is to make music that is impossible for people not to respond to. There is no better example of such drastic reactions to music than disco at its peak.

"Every song is an attempt for me to chase after a moment, every song is the pursuit of some memory," Butler revealed in this year's first Fader. What he left unsaid is that, for the time being, he has captured the very moment of lighting he has sought, bottled it and released it to the world. A friend of mine asked recently, "Who is Hercules and Love Affair? Superstarz, it seems." Not yet, but the hour is fast approaching. Imitators beware: The real thing has returned.

Radio Show Playlist: 3/5/08

6a:
1. Dinosaur Jr. - Yeah We Know - Bug (SST 1988)
2. Danava - One Mind Goes Seperate Ways - UnonoU (Kemado 2008)
3. Dead Meadow - I'm Gone - Old Growth (Matador 2008)
4. The Zincs - Hamstrung & Juvenile - Black Pompadour (Thrill Jockey 2007)
5. Arbouretum - Ghosts of Here and There - Rites of Uncovering (Thrill Jockey 2007)
6. Bob Dylan & Johnny Cash - Girl from the North Country (Columbia 1969)
7. Hank Williams - Men with Broken Hearts - Beyond the Sunset (Mercury 1963)
8. Michael Hurley - Light Green Fellow - Ancestral Swamp (Gnomonsong 2007)
9. Paul Metzger - Orans - Deliverance (Locust 2007)

7a:
1. Toumani Diabate - Elyne Road - The Mande Variations (Nonesuch 2008)
2. Marion Brown Quartet - Capricorn Moon - Marion Brown Quartet (ESP 1966)
3. Colorlist - These Complimentary - Lists (Off 2008)
4. Fennesz - Caecilia - Endless Summer (Mego 2001)
5. Tim Hecker - I'm Transmitting Tonight - Radio Amor (Mille Plateaux 2003)
6. Valet - Fire - Naked Acid (Kranky 2008)
7. Parker & Lily - Suit of Fire - The Low Lows (Warm 2004)
8. Beach House - Gila - Devotion (Carpark 2008)

8a:
1. Destroyer - Blue Flower/Blue Flame - Trouble in Dreams (Merge 2008)
2. Dirty Projectors - Gimmie Gimmie - Rise Above (Dead Oceans 2007)
3. Karl Blau - Lake King's Daughter - AM (Whistler 2008)
4. School of Language - Rockist pt. 4 - Sea from Shore (Thrill Jockey 2008)
5. Pattern is Movement - It's the Wine - Stowaway (NFI 2005)
6. The Ladies - Non-Threatening - They Mean Us (Temporary Residence 2006)
7. Mahjongg - Problems - Kontpab (K 2008)
8. Record Player - Free Your Mind - "Free Your Mind" b/w "Your Fantasy" 12" (Soul Cal, originally 1979)
9. Sound Directions - Fourty Days - The Funky Side of Life (Stones Throw 2005)
10. Bohannon - Me & the Gang - Summertime Groove (Mercury 1978)
11. Phil Ranelin - Sounds from the Village - Vibes from the Tribe (Hefty 2001, originally 1976)
12. Curtis Mayfield - Billy Jack - There's No Place Like America Today (Curtom 1975)

Colorlist - "Lists"

Colorlist - "These Complimentary" (Off 2008)

Colorlist – Lists / Off

Nearly every image Colorlist associates themselves with contains two distinct characteristics: fractured separation and soft-hued fluidity. Their album cover for example is made up of at least nine distinct blocks – like that of a shifting plastic number puzzle – and within each one are digitally bled streaks of autumnal reds, browns and yellows. It is hard to tell exactly, but it almost looks like the blocks were once arranged into a discernible picture, which was subjected to heavy Photoshop manipulation. If we look to the music inside for a confirmation of my hypothesis, I would confidently lean towards that as the origination.

Then there are the photographs strewn across the Colorlist website and MySpace page. Skilled lomographers, percussionist Charles Rumback and reedist Charles Gorzcynski capture hazy ambient scenes with the four-eyed lens of a Supersampler. Each individual picture is made up of four quickly successive shots, each one slightly more telephoto than the next, lined up in progressive order to create a sort of slow motion mini-film reel. Each individual section only differentiates slightly from the previous one, but by lining them up, an otherwise mundane image can take on a more animated and thought-provoking narrative.

Perhaps it is an aesthetic decision by the Chicago-based duo, as the visual associations are analogous to the music they create as Colorlist. The rudimentary melodies made by Gorzcynski’s alto saxophone are consistently patched through a digital delay, looped and embellished upon. Each simple three or four note phrase is captured and slowly manipulated creating a refracted, cascading harmony rather than projecting a single chord. As Gorzcynski builds a patient whirlpool of melody between his soft-toned saxophone, harmonium and electronic toys, Rumback provides a more organic rhythm, though rarely lifting his sticks beyond half-mast and working the more odd-sounding corners of his kit. The final product sounds like Terry Riley jamming with Paul Desmond and John Herndon while Rob Mazurek sits behind the effects board. Each song progresses at a melodic soft boil with its organic instrumentation, but without fail, a frayed wire is introduced to the pot and the track is sent sputtering into fractured, experimental electronica territory.

Now joining Gorzcynski and Rumback at the core of the group are engineers Brian Bullard and Matthew Gagnon, who continue the manipulation from a post-production standpoint. Also contributing to Lists – their first record for Stilll side-label Off Records – are bassists Matt Lux and Jason Ajemian, cellists Ellen O’Hayer and Sarah Biber, bass clarinetist Jason Stein, and guitarist Bill MacKay.

As “Lluvia” displays, the core of Colorlist works well alone. Behind Rumback’s steady hi-hat rhythm, Gorzcynski doubles over his simple downscaling melody while electronic rumbles begin to thunder in the distance. The song progress in a vertical fashion; Gorcynski’s saxophone embellishments and harmonium swells, Rumback’s spry, shifting rhythms, and a barrage of other electronic hums and sputters give increasing texture to the otherwise monochromatic composition. The song eventually becomes a throbbing orb of harmonic tones hovering around light drum patterns and creaking electronics.

Lists really shines when they begin collaborating with outsiders though. “These Complimentary” is six minutes of pure aural ecstasy. Long cello yawns create a steady stream of warm tone, of which MacKay’s guitar tweaks along like an agitated pond skater. Vibraphone-like chimes cover the surface in capillary waves that eventually feed back onto each other causing odd harmonic ripples that refract the images of a bright electronic sun. The players don’t seem to be heading in any particular direction, but the drift alone is an impressive display.

The following track “Carbon Monoxide” features the same ensemble but with a heavier presence from Rumback and his drum kit. It begins in a similar fashion, but eventually tumbles into a realm between Isotope 217, HiM and Boards of Canada. Rumback works his snare and tom into an agitated rhythm while never really evoking a verbal description like pummel or pound. It is a constant reminder that this is more grounded in improvisational jazz than post-rock despite my recent comparisons.

While Colorlist is self-described as a compositional project, they are much more effective while marrying a collection of seemingly separate improvised components – as on “Living Mausoleum” – than on the more structured numbers with a discernible climax – as on “Rewinding Sunday”. Either way they approach it though, it is an interesting sound. The music is soft-toned, organic and patient, composed with accessible melodies in mind, and searching while rarely scathing. But it’s concurrently fractured, fried and strung into compositions nearly unidentifiable from their original sources. Think of it as the aural equivalent of watching a late night jazz trio from outside a softly lit bar in the pouring rain. Streaks of water run down the window, refracting the image into streaks of warm reds, yellows and browns; you can’t quite make out the individual figures, but that flash of yellow was certainly the saxophonist raising his horn in a climactic spout and that blur of brown is the bass being rocked in a meditative fervor. It’s almost more interesting not knowing the exact spatial outlines and just letting this obtuse fluid image become a new aesthetic all its own.

Bisc1 - "When Electric Night Falls"

Bisc1 - Nightfall (Embedded 2008)

Bisc1 - When Electric Night Falls / Embedded

Maybe it's just felt like forever, but Queens rapper Bisc1 had a Hell Hath No Fury-esque wait between his debut EP The Basics in November of 2005 and his debut full-length out March 11th on Embedded. I can very clearly remember seeing the simple-but-effective cover and hearing the title-track for the first time in January of 2006 and getting excited about it because it sounded like the Rhymesayers guys adding the urban grit that New York City inevitably gives to its native artists. There was something about Bisc's delivery and the beats laid down behind him that signaled the approach of a new hip-hop hallmark for the backpackers.

And then... Then!... Then? Then there was almost nothing. He kept a low profile despite a visit to China and briefly re-emerging on MySpace bulletins with the 17-track mixtape The Stay Up Project last year. It's interesting to note that Bisc has not rushed to get this out, but his security is not in question given that his history at Embedded goes back to when he was interning as a graphic designer at Def Jux in 2002 and met label manager DJ Ese. Along with a multitude of other beatsmiths, Bisc1 built a vault of hot jams waiting to happen. Only now have we seen the results of six years in sitting.

Only none of these are hot jams, per se. When Electric Night Falls is emphatically not a club-ready record or one you'd be pressed to spin in the company of the NoWsters that have done so well by building on the theme of positive boom-bap vibes in the past two years. This is a dark record, even when the man behind the mic is trying to spit verbal uppers.

The record begins with "Another Day," which isolates the title through a fuzzy bassline shadow and electric currents running through the beat. Distorted guitars add a layer of white noise that blurs the words, Bisc's style a verbal hodgepodge that follows his freestyle skills. While there aren't necessarily storylines as with other rappers, Bisc1's magic comes in tying thematic elements together. You never get the feeling that Bisc is Lil Wayne-like crazy, just more willing to explore the unconscious in a manner that might be alien to traditionalists. The payoff is rewarding.

He disguises these loose attachments with attractive choruses ("Fire and Ice," featuring Mariella) and darker beats that evoke the mood and atmosphere of both New York's subterranea and the after-hours of any major city. There are also definite signs of looking beyond the 'hood to the other side of the world in East Asia ("Great Escape," "Sidelines") and beyond the world we know ("Intermood" is the product of some nighttime UFO transistor pick-ups). In this regard, his closest contemporaries are probably gNotes and Embedded labelmates Junk Science.

"And is this electricity in the air? / You can almost hear it." The words echo distantly from "Nightfall." Rarer is this electricity clearer than when you're chilling for a second and cruising with Bisc on this particular track. Space synths ride saturn rings around a gritty bassline for what might be the best beat on the record; Bisc keeps his rhymes mixed well above and his delivery, sometimes breathless and frustrated, seems more effortless here. It is the most relaxed song on the album despite its futuristic, near paranoid beat.

Speaking of, "Paranoid" is the most literal example of "buggin'" on this record. In a full-length replete with haunting musics and nervous words, "Paranoid" stands as the pinnacle of this sound. Ironic, then, that the chorus to the following song, "Pandemonium," reads like a foreboding, unconvincing wag of the finger: "Life is a gift to be enjoyed every second / Every minute is temporary, not infinite." The smart juxtaposition of preaching positivity on the mic while the beats bring only the black unease of midnight is one of the most rewarding aspects of this album.

The Connecticut native repping 718 instead of 203 these days once remarked that, "If you feed them everything all at once they won’t be hungry when the real meal comes." Supper's been a long time coming, but When Electric Night Falls is as filling a meal as one could've hoped for at 14 tracks and 55 minutes. More than just mere numbers, this is the sound of Bisc1 demonstrating on a grander scale what he has only hinted at with a mixtape and an EP: His music is not for the sleepers of the world content to watch the sunset and retire on a steady diet of whatever Kanye mash-up just came out. This is for everyone safe enough to own an apartment away from the street violence of Dälek but still anxious enough to not sleep at night. I watched the sunrise over the Chicago skyline this past weekend from a train platform a few stops north whilst waiting to switch from one line to another. Shortly after, I caught my line, went home and retired around 8.30AM as the rest of the world greeted a new day. My secrets were safe with the dawn. If you know what I mean, When Electric Night Falls will come to you naturally.

Singleversity #47

Audiversity’s weekly column, even more modified, on music we stumble across during our sonic adventures. No random numbers, just straight audio goodness.

MA:



A couple months ago I stumbled upon a compilation called Sculpting from Drake, Vol. 1, and my level of interest since has risen from a glancing curiosity to verging on an obsession. Released on the Michigan imprint Elsie and Jack Records back in 2001, it features mostly Midwest American artists individually reinterpreting the graceful tunes of arguably folk-pop’s greatest icon, Nick Drake. Thanks to the diversity of artists involved, the album contains a wide range of reimaginings. Where artists like Archer Prewitt or Flashpapr are able to pay tribute by providing similarly stark and solemn recreations of Drake’s lulling sound, more experimental cats like Ben Vida or Drekka stretch and mold the compositions with their personal artistic fingerprint until they are nearly unidentifiable from the original. The more I spin the record, the more one particular track seems to separate itself from the mix because it combines both approaches. The team of the now defunct UK psych/shoegaze outfit Electroscope and someone by the name of Zurich patiently weave somber electric guitar noodles and wavering feedback for the first half of "Things Behind the Sun" before a welcoming female voice does impressive justice to Drake’s lyrics and deceptively simple vocal melodies. A Drake tune alone is incredibly hypnotizing, but by melting his impeccable songwriting into a gentle whirlpool of psych guitar, organ swells and tape loops, you’ll be lucky to drag yourself out of the sonic vortex. (p.s. Dear Elsie and Jack, please put out a second volume, sincerely Michael)

PM:



















Who's the fetching fellow behind the chessboard of this photo and the mixing board of the b-side to M83's owl-inflected latest single, "Couleurs"? Answer: Flying Finn Jori Hulkkonen, an electronic artist and relentless remixer slipping in treatments for Goldfrapp, Cabaret Voltaire and Chromeo to name but a few. Hulkkonen got no less a dancefloor icon than Tiga to write the bio on his webpage, and his long career as both artist and resident DJ stretches back to early electro experiments in 1988-89. He's come a long way from deep house remixes in the early 90s, and the extended journey continues two decades on with both a radiant Italo-garage hybrid for "Couleurs" and a new single on F Communications with John Foxx called "Never Been Here Before." Check out his MySpace for even more goodness from the man bred on Swedish-pop and Finnish folk in the remote "city of snow and sea," Kemi.

Susie Ibarra - "Drum Sketches"

Susie Ibarra - "Drum Sketch 8" (Innova 2007)

Susie Ibarra - Drum Sketches / Innova

Sometime in 2003 or 2004, I caught Prefuse 73 on tour supporting the release of his near-universally acclaimed album One Word Extinguisher. Joining Guillermo Scott Herren on stage was his typical partner in turntable-sampler-mixer-effects debauchery, DJ Nobody aka Elvin Estrela. I’ve caught the pair live a number of times and thoroughly enjoy the knob twiddling performances, but for this particular show, Herren had a secret weapon. He enlisted jazz drummer Susie Ibarra to accentuate his programmed rhythms, an effect that ran twofold as both a bit more interesting (and better looking) focal point than two hairy guys with their heads buried in a web of color-coded cords and a more resounding organic bump to accompany the electronic beeps.

If keeping up with Herren’s continuously shifting and stuttering rhythms wasn’t impressive enough though, Ibarra reportedly did not practice with the pair prior to the show. She simply played on instinct, and an incredibly quick instinct at that. Herren would drop the beat, and within one or two loops, she’d catch the groove, lock into the rhythm and start accentuating the particular tune with her own improvisations. The set’s playful vibe was contagious because not only was Ibarra’s appreciation of each beat physically apparent (smiles, head-nods, etc), but Herren and Estrela would repeatedly turn around and momentarily stare in awe as she percussively took each tune to new aural heights.

At the time, the Filipino drummer was new to me, but she has in fact been garnishing respect in the contemporary jazz scene since the mid-90s. Ibarra’s first encounters with the drums were via punk and hardcore gigs, but her realization of percussion’s possibility came from a chance encounter with Buster Smith, Sun Ra’s drummer in the 80s and early 90s. With his more formal and extensive training – along with lessons from free jazz great Milford Graves and the much traveled Vernel Fournier – Ibarra honed a multi-dimensional style that infused the many different layers of jazz with more worldly influences, especially the music of Southeast Asia. And that range of ability shows in her résumé: a shortlist of artists she’s performed and composed with in the last fifteen years includes modern jazz players William Parker, David S. Ware, Matthew Shipp, Craig Taborn, Butch Morris, Zeena Parkins, Derek Bailey, as well as experimental performers like John Zorn, Thurston Moore and Yusef Komanyakaa, electronica cats like Herren and Ikue Mori, and even contributed to a few Yo La Tengo tracks.

Ibarra’s first solo album following a number of well received Tzadik ensemble releases continues to explore not only rhythm as a lyrical force but the culture of her heritage as well. The aptly titled Drum Sketches features the percussionist solo – except for a few ambient field recordings – on her drum kit along with instruments native to the album’s inspiration, the Philippines. It has also been commissioned as a live performance piece, of which visual artist Makoto Fujimura, the man behind the album’s intriguing cover art, joins her on stage to paint live in reaction to the music.

The album is bookended by two Kulintang pieces: “Binalig” and “Sinulog”. Ibarra plays the bright sounding gong kettles with a sort of delicate forcefulness. Over a field recording of ambient chirping insects, birds and amphibians, the chiming tones dance like a torch’s flame in the wind; the traditional cadential patterns just have this hypnotizing and unpredictable melodic rhythm. For “Drum Sketch 6”, she switches to a Surunay xylophone, which like the Kulintang gongs, doesn’t sound overtly foreign, but the odd tunings create an exotic, implacable vibe. The solo xylophone track finds Ibarra teasing the resonation of the bars with a number of separate rhythmic patterns rather than locking into one distinct melody or groove.

The drum kit pieces range from the longer formed, lilting solos to more searching pieces where Ibarra utilizes hand percussion and more nontraditional approaches to the kit. I’m not sure if sketches “3” and “8” were actually performed and recorded live or if the crowd noise was spliced in later, but both sound like Ibarra is entertaining a crowd with much success. The former features an almost tribal tom rhythm adjoined with jazzy improvisations on the traps and cymbals; the latter sounds more indigenous with a pulsing polyrhythm egging on the crowd’s hoots and hollers. While during a few of the more experimental pieces you can visualize Ibarra’s means to the sound – the circular brush strokes on a snare during sketch “4” for example – the means to a couple of the sounds completely baffle me. Sketch “5” for instance is made up of this two-minute mysterious croaking resonance that eventually opens up into cascading muffled cymbal crashes.

Solo drum albums are not typically large crowd pleasers as their fan base is almost solely limited to other drummers despite the genre. Ibarra though transcends this pigeonhole by crafting a record that doesn’t as much display her technical prowess as translate her interpretations of Filipino ambiance. The subdued record, joining jazz drumming to free improv, modern composition, and a slew of her native styles, is not overtly challenging – but don’t mistake that for a lack of intrigue. Quite the contrary actually, Ibarra’s interpretation of the Philippines’ aural landscape is brimming with textural nuances and captivating idiosyncrasies, and it makes for an interesting listen no matter your taste.

Joe Gibbs (1943-2008)

While we're at it, we should also pay our respects to legendary reggae and rocksteady producer Joe Gibbs. RIP.

Marcia Aitkin - "I'm Still in Love" (produced by Joe Gibbs, Trojan 197?)

Buddy Miles (1947-2008)

Buddy Miles is arguably my favorite drummer ever, and with apologies to Levon Helm, by far my favorite drummer-singer. He'll be missed.

And yes, that is Buddy Guy on guitar.

Radio Show Playlist: 2/27/08

6a:
1. Ted Leo/Pharmacists - Parallel or Together? - The Tyranny of Distance (Lookout! 2001)
2. Pants Yell! - More Purple - Alison Statton (Soft Abuse 2007)
3. Q and Not U - Soft Pyramids - Different Damage (Dischord 2002)
4. Grand Archives - Miniature Birds - The Grand Archives (Sub Pop 2008)
5. Turner Cody - Lashes that Go Wide - Buds of May (Digitalis Industries 2007, originally 2004)
6. Michael Hurley - The Werewolf Song - First Songs (Folkways 1964)
7. Atlas Sound - Quarantined - Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel (Kranky 2008)
8. Bird Names - New Mexico - Wooden Lake/Sexual Diner (Unsound 2007)
7. Electroscope with Zurich - Things Behind the Sun - Sculpting from Nick Drake, Vol. 1 (Elsie & Jack 2000)
8. Toumani Diabate - Ismael Drame - The Mande Variations (World Circuit 2008)
9. Ali Farka Toure - Petenere - Green (Nonesuch 2005, originally 1988)

7a:
1. Mulatu Astatke - Netsanet - Ethiopiques Vol. 4: Ethio Jazz & Musique Instrumentale, 1969-1974 (Buda Musique 1998, originally 1974)
2. Yusef Lateef - The Plum Blossom - Eastern Sounds (Prestige 1961)
3. Rob Mazurek - The Shaping of Light (section) - Amorphic Winged (Walking Road 2001)
4. The New John Handy Quintet - Naima (In Memory of John Coltrane) - New View! (Columbia 1967)
5. Susie Ibarra - Drum Sketch 9 - Drum Sketches (Innova 2007)
6. Terry Riley - Poppy Nogood & the Phantom Band All Night Flight, Vol. 1 (Elision Fields 1997, recorded 1968)
7. Robert Een - Day of Wrath - Hiroshima Maiden (Innova 2007)
8. Jonny Greenwood - Oil - There Will Be Blood (Nonesuch 2008)
9. Lichens - You Are Excitement, You Can Turn Yourself into God (section) - The Psychic Nature of Being (Holy Mountain 2005)
10. Burial - Shell of Light - Untrue (Hyperdub 2007)

8a:
1. Valet - Streets - Naked Acid (Kranky 2008)
2. Spacemen 3 - Why Couldn't I See - Recurring (Fire 1991)
3. Solarminds - My Salvation (saved) - A Lighthouse for the Sun (Mind Altering 2008)
4. Beach House - Heart of Chambers - Devotion (Carpark 2008)
5. The Low Lows - Dear Flies, Love Spider - Fire on the Bright Sky (Warm 2006)
6. Chromatics - Program - Plaster Hounds (GSL 2004)
7. The Big Sleep - Slow Race - Sleep Forever (Frenchkiss 2008)
8. Blood on the Wall - Liferz - Liferz (Social Registry 2008)
9. Entrance - I'm So Glad - The Kingdom of Heaven Must Be Taken by Storm! (Tiger Style 2003)
10. Angels of Light - The Man We Left Behind - We Are Him (Young God 2007)
11. Make Believe - Pat Tillman, Emmit Till - Of Course (Flameshovel 2006)
12. Karl Blau - Spring Morning - AM (Whistler 2008)

Boris - "Smile"

Boris - You Were Holding an Umbrella (Southern Lord 2008)

Boris - Smile / Southern Lord

Boris is not a sorely underappreciated or sadly overlooked group anymore. Thanks in large part to critics' fondness for Pink in 2005-06, the Japanese rock giants finally gained more than a faithful following in North America for their brutal take on drone and psychedelic rock. We here at Audiversity were not particularly inclined toward Pink, but their collaboration with Ghost man Michio Kurihara on last year's Rainbow was a staunch favorite and without a doubt one of the class rock albums of 2007. There was no denying the power of the music, just the weak US-release cover-art.

When it was announced that they would have yet another full-length out in the first quarter of 2008, curiosity was piqued. This is a band that has been steadily releasing sterling material since their inception in 1992, and it feels like they've covered every aspect of stoner-rock and doom-metal and Jap-psych and on and on and on over 17, 18 albums... But never before has anticipation been as palpable as it is now. Smile is more of the same, but only in the loosest sense; this is a grower with shades of sludge, shades of punk and, perhaps most strangely, shades of pop. It's the closest Boris has come to combining its three artistic directions on one release.

Boris being Boris, though, some Smiles are more equal than others. To wit: The cruelest part of this album (aside from the vastly inferior album art that once again plagues the US release) is that Southern Lord listeners will be deprived of one of the best songs from the Japanese version: "Message" opens up the yellow heart-emblazoned Japanese tracklisting with some next-level Konono No. 1 tribal-influenced acid-punk that cranks it out to Uganda while working off a drum machine, but "Statement" is a surprisingly neutered mix of the same song buried halfway through the American tracklisting. Flipped in its place is Pyg cover "Flower Sun Rain," a tambourine-driven hippie cruiser that seems such a harmless way to christen an album of this nature...

But those significant missteps aside, Smile is raw power no matter the order. "Flower Sun Rain" works better as a mid-album breather, but it also makes sense as the sunny red herring that segues into "Buzz-In," a return to the trio's hardcore punk roots ("Statement" just seems less attention-grabbing in the switch). It's like hearing Boris before they found the slow-mo replay button.

Incidentally, Sunn O))) head Stephen O'Malley does play guitar on a song or two (Michio Kurihara also features), but their doom and psych influences do not feature as prominently as in the past. Maybe this is down to producer Hiroshi Ishihara (more famous for work with White Heaven, The Stars and Yura Yura Teikoku), but I suspect the tectonic shift in aggression was a band decision. Just listen to "Laser Beam" ("Hanate!" on the Japanese version). You can barely hear the melody through all of that feedback before it finally fades out on a distorted kickdrum and cymbal.

That's the nature of Smile: Though their playing eschews epic drones in favor of cock-rock freakouts, nothing passes the treatment filter. Everything is distorted or adjusted or overcompensated for on this record. Takeshi's vocals are up to par on "My Neighbor Satan" ("New Saturn"), but beyond that the guitars and thundering drums never escape being crumpled up into something nastier. There have been some complaints about the tinny sound of the guitars, and maybe this is so, but I don't have any problem with the sharp sounds. Basically, it's Supercar on steroids.

Further proof comes in "Dead Destination," which has been correctly identified as a leaner, meaner version with vocals of "No One Grieves Part 2" from 2006's four-track vinyl, The Thing Which Solomon Overlooked 2. It is the opinion of this author that, though slightly shorter, the vocals add a different kind of intensity lacking in the instrumental (even while they take out a minute of guitar noodling at the beginning).

The highlights for fans of past Boris releases who are still looking for something they can't sing along to are in the last two tracks: "Untitled," the 19-minute closer on the Japanese version and the penultimate track for US listeners, is an epic and likely the most common adjective people will associate with this song. Everything you love about Boris is here, from the backwards guitars to the windtunnel vocals to the sheer weight of the guitars. "You Were Holding an Umbrella" ("You Put Up Your Umbrella") starts with an echoing drum machine and a dreamy, Cocteau Twins guitar line. It shouldn't be unfamiliar to audiences who saw them tour with Michio Kurihara, but this version (like most things involving titanic rock bands and CD time limits) is condensed with a false ending halfway through that untidily segues into a warped jam outro sure to rattle on long after the CD has stopped playing.

Given the two options, I would take Diwphalanx's Japanese release over Southern Lord's US version. "Message" is an unusual tune in the canon, the artwork is better by being more basic, and something seems right about ending on an untitled 19-minute rocker. That said, you get whatever version you want. If you were a fan before, and especially if you weren't, forget what you knew. I could understand if you had their entire back catalog and were bored with it, but even without "Message," Smile is worth your while because it does not appeal to devotees like past releases. It's not Feedbacker or Vein, but it's thankfully not going for that anyway. This is Boris as deliciously schizophrenic and ambitious as they've ever been. No cohesion? No problem. Just don't leave the earplugs behind.

Valet - "Naked Acid"

Valet - "Kehaar" (Kranky 2008)

Valet – Naked Acid / Kranky

About halfway through “Drum Movie” – the second track on Valet’s sophomore release for Kranky Records – delicately crashing waves of static give way to the distant low end of tribal drums and a singular oncoming dither of guitar feedback. But out of this slightly unsettling aural tension, Honey Owens – the mastermind behind the moniker – layers three or four different synthesizer drones into this rippling wall of simultaneously pleasant and harsh frequency harmonics. While it eventually gives way to ghostly feminine mumbles and loose electric guitar noodles, that brief two minutes of pure sonic serenity completely envelops your senses. It’s kind of baffling how the simple layering of slightly wavering electrical oscillators could evoke such an emotional response, but it does and Owens knows just how to tease the frequencies into an aural bliss.

You can’t really listen to Valet without repeatedly referring back to Spacemen 3 (or at least I can’t). Owens just taps into so much of the English trio’s minimalist psychedelia: their reliance on just the right distortion to skew the guitar’s familiar sound, their grasp on how exactly to harness the harmonic overtones rather than the immediate amplified product, and their unpretentious approach to songwriting – i.e. taking a single chord, key or tempo and stretching it to it’s monochromatic limits.

Owens is certainly not a one-trick pony though, and her experience with Portland, Oregon’s kings of improvisation – Jackie-O Motherfucker – is permanently displayed in her solo material as well. Listening to one of the experimental rock group’s live extended jams is a paradoxical experience as it can lull you into a pleasant state of sonic euphoria even though the group often enlists the harsh sounds of free jazz to continuously mutate their sound. Owens doesn’t utilize as many horn squawks or minimalist freak-outs for her Valet output, but she certainly understands how to wrangle feedback and other amplified by-products into pleasant harmonics all their own.

Naked Acid rambles through a number of different approaches to her psychedelic landscapes. Where the aforementioned “Drum Movie” is built around the melting together of glacial soundscapes and brooding slabs of frequency icebergs, “Fire” sounds like the Velvet Underground holed up in a cabin somewhere in the rural regions of the Pacific Northwest. Owens’ linear songwriting is backed by deceptively simple and faintly atonal guitar playing, of which she teases each strand with a slightly wet mix of echo and wah-wah.

Fellow Portlandite Adrian Orange collaborates on the opening track, “We Went There”. With a delicate background of wind chimes and rain sticks, the two contrasting voices – Owens’ eased and hypnotic feminine coo and Orange’s ominous baritone – duet hauntingly among electric guitar scars and foggy feedback. And Mark Evan Burden of Silentist contributes drums to a number of songs as well, including the wonderful narcotic-friendly trip of “Kehaar”. Owens seduces every ounce of your attention like the most cunning of Homer’s sirens, at which point Burden’s steady snare rhythm locks in to guide your wayfaring ship directly into the rocky coast.

If 2007’s Blood is Clean introduced Valet as one of contemporary psychedelia’s most promising new entrants, Naked Acid solidifies the point. Like the previous release, it sidesteps any pretentiousness while still providing a challenging listen. Owens’ great sense for subtlety and texture in her songwriting and improvising as well as the degree of diversity throughout the record keeps the album continuously interesting after multiple listens. Consider Naked Acid yet another must hear in the Kranky catalog.

Devotion #19.75

David Ruffin is the Truth.



I’ve been working on a few things for the past month or so, but will return soon.

Singleversity #46

Audiversity’s weekly column, even more modified, on random music we stumble across during our sonic adventures. No random numbers, just straight audio goodness.

MA:



I am not much of a print art connoisseur, but when I happen across an artist I like, my attention is captured for good. That is just what happened about a year ago while digging for a foothold to get my review of Low’s Drums and Guns rolling. A piece titled “March” by Bridget Riversmith graced the front cover, and as I stared at it for a good hour trying to find just the right description, I found myself more hypnotized by the gouache and graphite sketch than the music – though Low’s gently pulsing vibrations was certainly catalytic to the situation. Well not only does the Duluth, MN artist now have an expanded website, but she has a new film project titled Birds At Night (Might Fall). And if you are looking for equally hypnotizing music to soundtrack your browsing of Riversmith’s many surreal, storybook-inspired concoctions, might I suggest minimalist composer Terry Riley’s "Purple" from his 1968 concert: Poppy Nogood and the Phantom Band All Night Flight. Both artists share a penchant for gently stumbling upon warm-hued, melodious impressions in mistake-friendly chaos: Riley with his erasable layers of loops and Riversmith with her pliable water-based media.

PM:















This week has turned out to be all about Africa for me. It started when I finally reviewed Toumani Diabaté's latest record, The Mande Variations, after sitting on it for several days. This led me to visit Awesome Tapes From Africa for the first time in a few weeks, and I did my catching-up. I also finished Dave Eggers' riveting portrayal of Sudanese refugee Valentino Achak Deng, 2006's What is the What. The climax was when I received "The Last King of Scotland" in the mail from Netflix. My interest in crazed African dictators was renewed with this flawed-yet-entertaining film, but the soundtrack is also worth more investigation. Ofo & The Black Company - a Nigerian group led by Larry Ifedioranma with little other information to offer - has often been cited as the highlight with "Allah Wakbarr" (incorrectly titled "Love is You" on the album), but the b-side of that 1972 Decca 7" wasn't bad either: Here lies "Beautiful Daddy," a jam Idi Amin would doubtlessly have approved of.

Apparently the people up at The Fader saw this coming: on Thursday the "Africa issue" arrived, which is well worth the read even if you're averse to the whole "print media" thing. To bring it full circle, Brian Shimkovitz does his own Vinyl Archaeology toward the back of the rag. You may know him as thursdayborn from his blog, Awesome Tapes From Africa. Word.

Kipul - "Kipul"

Kipul - 3:50 (Rabbit Isln 2008)

Kipul - Kipul / Rabbit Isln

Last year we featured a review for Tampere, Finland's Cahier (Orchestra) and the album Desacreditado. The man behind the project, Marko Neumann, was a veteran of Finnish punk bands in his youth and (like a lot of other punk players tired of the same three chords) had veered off into darker, stranger territories in some ways just as brutal and aggressive as any oi-oi-oi chant to your grandmother. The record was good and painted many of my afternoons last summer, but Neumann went mum after that excepting the late-'07 release Höyryveturi out on Cut Hands.

While a number of things have happened in the interim for me - all of them well documented on these pages and elsewhere - Neumann too has been busy. This shouldn't come as a surprise given his numerous monikers (Body Odour, Kasvain, Candy Cane and Polka Dot Sunflower Bed Orchestra among them), but this time Neumann is behind the scenes rather than in front of them. His latest project is a net-label called Rabbit Isln, and its first release is in keeping with the sludgy back catalog he has been maintaining since he began making music. Welcome to the like-minded release of Uusimaa's Kipul.

Not much is known about the personal background of this one-man ambient droner. From the solitary photo on his MySpace, it seems pretty obvious this is not a coincidence. He has two blog entries and both are terse (One is an excerpt, not even the whole thing, from the press release for this album). His debut is only six songs, 25 minutes long. But it says a lot about where he's coming from and why he's on Rabbit Isln in the first place. Neumann's Höyryveturi was only 25 minutes too.

Though it fades in slowly, "Little Boy Lost" opens on a gothic note with a distorted, groveling British voice over burbling noise transmissions and post-apocalyptic dreariness. The poem recited appears to be "A Little Boy Lost" by Polish writer Tommy Jantarek. I think? My Polish is a little rough in that I've never actually learned Polish, but the very Poe-esque poem sets the tone for a dark, dank, claustrophobic record. Funnily enough, splashing water and chirping birds end the track. It represents two extremes of sound that adhere to Kipul's mantra that "confusion is sound."

Indeed, when the droning anger home to "Opened" thunders in and phases in and out like a hovering UFO, you know you won't be confusing it for the Orinoco flow anytime soon. The distorted strums, the sharp pangs, all of it is an assault on the listener that is meant to confuse them. Fade in drums. "Opened" may be my favorite track on this album, drafty winds and ghoulish sirens passing through the open window where aliens await you. It is brilliant but painfully short; such is the nature of Kipul.

"3:50" is the most accessible track here and comes as a bit of a surprise given how aggressive and distant the rest of the music had felt. This has a consistent beat and an endearing, immediately recognizable grand piano line that makes it easy to remember. In some ways it is also reminiscent of another Scandinavian act, damaged Swede-folk goods Library Tapes. This is far busier with its grating guitars and light percussion, but the same pervading sense of loneliness remains.

The riff that would open up stadium tours were Kipul ever to get that far is left to the concluding track of this album, "Welcome to the Jungle (Mode2)," which takes that infamous intro and then morphs it into a snarling beast of distortion and, literally, snarling vocals. Sampled lions and tigers or merely the work of some ProTools trickery? You do your own interpretation. Kipul has already done his.

In the ever-growing field of net-labels and homespun sonic agitators, Kipul is an exceptional case. The man has his act together from the off and it will be interesting to see how he develops from here or if he has already arrived at the barren, desolate, stormy sonic terra firma he sought to begin with. I cannot judge. I can only say that this is an impressive release and Rabbit Isln's seven-act collective will be a net-label to watch in the coming months. No big plans, no big deals, just small releases now and then? That will do for now, Marko. You keep doing what you do.

Dead Meadow - "Old Growth"

Dead Meadow - "Ain't Got Nothing (To Go Wrong)" (Matador 2008)

Dead Meadow – Old Growth / Matador

As we approach the fortieth anniversary of the ingenious name change four English teenagers thankfully agreed upon in early 1969, the legacy and influence of the band formerly known as Polka Tulk, mammoth rock icons Black Sabbath, still looms heavily over nearly every musician wanting to electrify their anguish into cascades of mind-melting guitar solos and psychedelic atmospheres. Every year or two, an American underground band eclipses their cover-band status and begins to spin the Sabbath sound, typically shaded with tones of Led Zepplin, Jimi Hendrix, Blue Cheer and Pink Floyd as well, into a new contagious vibe of fuzzy bliss, bluesy bombast and stoner sanctity.

D.C.’s Dead Meadow – with the 2003 Matador debut Shivering King and Others, their third proper full-length – fulfilled this near-annual prophecy with a career highlight. 2005’s follow-up, Feathers, found the band wearing a bit less black and a bit more psychedelic swirl. Their apathetic stoner stumble slipped into an eddy of Floyd-ish acid jangle. Not a terrible direction for a band looking to diversify its approach, but a slight disappointment for fans hung up on the guitar solo ear-fry and bluesy confrontation of the previous efforts.

Nearly three years to the day since Feathers dropped comes Old Growth, Dead Meadow’s third release for major-indie Matador Records. The elements of the trio’s sound are still in place: singer-guitarist Jason Simon’s nasal, Neil Young-derived whine, cyclical blues-heavy riffs and wah-wah friendly pedal-board, bassist Steve Kille’s crunchy, lilting undercurrent and the patient 70s hard-rock pummel of drummer Stephen McCarty. Then how come the Black I want to compare it to is no longer followed by Sabbath but Rebel Motorcycle Club?

The obvious culprit is overproduction. A bigger budget certainly opens possibilities for a band to experiment with their sound, but it also more often than not deteriorates urgency. It landed the band at Sunset Sound – an aged West Hollywood studio with a cheesy Jim Morrison legend – for half the recording instead of solely capturing their previously haunting sound in the abandoned rural Indiana guesthouse that was the location for the remaining of the tracking. For example, “Ain’t Got Nothing (To Go Wrong)” features the band in a familiar setting: electrified blues with a steady, punchy backbeat and Simon’s wondering narratives. And the expected guitar solo awes with a slight echo-delay blossoming into cascades of warm, wah-wahing guitar tones and a nearly over-modulating climax ebbing into a familiar blues sobering. But it doesn’t over-modulate when doing so would have accentuated the energy tenfold, not to mention it is the album’s longest instrumental outburst at barely three minutes.

So instead a lo-fi labor of love where every inch of tape is a potential moment of psych bombast, you get a crisp collection of compact ideas that are downright radio friendly. This is not too much of a stab at the band, but who gets stoned in under four-minutes? It takes a period of time for the THC just to work its way into the central nervous system, at which point a smoldering guitar solo can be slow-downed, strung-out and melted into the consciousness of the listener. Old Growth certainly has a good number of moments that will have you nodding in appreciation, but they almost always evaporate before you can really get lost in them. Besides, who is still not reeling from the Sabbathian punch in the mind’s eye of Black Mountain’s In the Future released just a few weeks ago? Talk about poor timing.

Toumani Diabaté - "The Mande Variations"

Toumani Diabaté - Si Naani (Nonesuch 2008)

Toumani Diabaté - The Mande Variations / Nonesuch

Occasionally I am wont to take a break from listening to minimal electronica and rock records and other things that I often find myself posting on here and instead delve into my better half's world of funk, soul and far-flung African music from the darkest continent we have. Toumani Diabaté has been a recent obsession with his new album, The Mande Variations.

Unfortunately for me, this comes at an inconvenient time: Diabaté has wrapped up his most recent American tour in support of this album - he played Chicago on January 29th and I can't for the life of me remember what I was doing that could've been better that night - but hearing this album goes some way toward consolation for missing out on the kora master's tour dates. That is what the 42-year-old Diabaté is all about: Gently plucking the string's of one of West Africa's trademark instruments, a 21-stringed harp carved out of a calabash that is capable of being retuned into one of four different tunings on the heptatonic (seven-note) scale. At times reminiscent of its closest relative the harp and at others a dead-on for the flamenco guitar, the kora is a uniquely challenging instrument with origins in what is now Guinea-Bissau and a history in popular West African music dating back to the 1800s.

With 11 strings in one hand and 10 in the other, it is understandable that even the slowest moments of a solo sound necessarily busy. It also follows that it would take years to figure all of this out, but Malian native Diabaté took cues from his touring father Sidiki (who made history by recording the first kora album in 1970) and learned the instrument himself as a kid while dad was out charming audiences in both Africa and, most notably for Western audiences, in Paris in 1977 at the Festival d'Automne.

In its own way, Toumani being left to his own devices has helped him gain greater acclaim than his father. Diabaté translates as "Nobody can refuse you anything." When it comes to his music, from 1989's Kaira to The Mande Variations here, nobody can refuse the extra influences that Diabaté the Younger has incorporated into his own brand of trad-Malian folk. The eight songs here utilize elements from across Africa and Europe to create a sound that is refreshingly free of Damon Albarn appearances, orchestras and other well-meaning-but-cluttered collaborations. To hear Toumani Diabaté doing his thing, alone, is a nice change of pace.

But Toumani's a clever guy, and it stands to reason that The Mande Variations could not simply be straightforward kora playing. The songs here are dedications to some of Diabaté's influences and often use techniques that the inspiration's source would have. So, say, Audiversity favorite Ali Farka Touré was fond of improvisational playing; here, the song of the same name provides a flurry of notes and one of Diabaté's finer moments. Another instance, Ismael Drame was Toumani's spiritual guide who had a knack for calmer, slower moments; here, "Ismael Drame" is one of the most sedate songs on the record. Though both are strong, neither of these tracks are the highlight of the record.

That space must be reserved for the opening track featured here, "Si Naani." The Independent's Andy Gill reckons that "Si Naani" has an Egyptian tuning "which combines griot melodies from central and northern Mali usually restricted to the ngoni lute." I trust that opinion given that my familiarity with the ngoni lute is limited.

"Djourou Kara Nany" is another highlight that sounds most like a Western-style folk song with a discernible, looping melody that is easy to remember. The raucous playing on "El Nabiyouna" halfway through is probably the album's most aggressive moment. But the most recognizable moment will be at the beginning of the last song, "Cantelowes." With a sly grin on his face, Diabaté literally uses a Western influence as he quietly recalls Morricone's famous whistle from "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" before breaking into the remainder of the song. At once busy and wistful, "Cantelowes" is the perfect summation of everything Diabaté has learned during his time traversing the globe.

This album, too, is a good breather from his escapades bringing West African music to the world. It's a return home. It's an album of retreat, returning to the roots from whence he came. But nobody in Mali can refuse Toumani Diabaté anything: He's returned home with the knowledge that there is so much more beyond traditional kora music. Stringing together the cultures and the sounds that he has encountered so smoothly here is merely further proof of that exceptional talent.

Radio Show Playlist: 2/20/08

6a:
1. Dinosaur Jr. - Yeah We Know - Bug (SST 1988)
2. Danava - A High or a Low - UnonoU (Kemado 2008)
3. Blood on the Wall - Liferz - Liferz (Social Registry 2008)
4. Magnetic Fields - Please Stop Dancing - Distortion (Nonesuch 2008)
5. Frog Eyes - Russian Berries but You're Quiet Tonight - The Folded Palm (Absolutely Kosher 2004)
6. Pattern is Movement - Gunsmith - The Impossibility of Longing (self-released 2004)
7. Mice Parade - Into the Freedom World - Mokoondi (Bubble Core 2001)
8. Character - Progressive Democrat - We Also Create False Promises (Fictitious 2004)
9. Dosh - When Things Were Looking Up - Pure Trash (Anticon 2004)
10. Nemeth - Via L4-Norte - Film (Thrill Jockey 2008)
11. Isotope 217 - User Password: Lebar - Commander Mindfuck (Aesthetics 1999)

7a:
1. Kammerflimmer Kollektief - Sie Tranken Regan (Version) - Cicadidae (Temporary Residence 2003)
2. Ornette Coleman - Una Muy Bonita - Change of the Century (Atlantic 1959)
3. Bobby Hutcherson - Subtle Neptune - Oblique (Blue Note 1967)
4. Eric Dolphy Quintet with Booker Little - Number Eight (Potsa Lotsa) - Memorial Albums (Live at the Five Spot - Vol. 3) (Prestige 1964, recorded 1961)
5. L'ocelle Mare - Untitled #5 - L'ocelle Mare (Sick Room 2008)
6. Sir Richard Bishop - Provenance Unknown - Improvika (Locust 2004)
7. Steffen Basho-Junghans - Ina Secret Garden - Late Summer Morning (Strange Attractors 2006)
8. Michael Hurley - Knockando - Ancestral Swamp (Gnomonsong 2007)
9. The Cave Singers - Seeds of Night - Invitation Songs (Matador 2007)
10. Paul Duncan - Call It Work - To an Ambient Hollywood (Home Tapes 2003)

8a:
1. Vashti Bunyan - Coldest Night of the Year - Some Things Just Stick in Your Mind (Dicristina 2007, originally 1966)
2. Julie Sokolow - Alternations - Something About Violins (Western Vinyl 2006)
3. Meg Baird - Riverhouse in Tinicum - Dear Companion (Drag City 2007)
4. Valet - Fire - Naked Acid (Kranky 2008)
5. Atlas Sound - Cold as Ice - Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel (Kranky 2008)
6. Spacemen 3 - Feel So Good - The Perfect Prescription (Taang 1987)
7. Blonde Redhead - Luv Machine - In an Expression of the Inexpressible (Touch & Go 1998)
8. Kelley Stoltz - The Birmingham Eccentric - Circular Sounds (Sub Pop 2008)
9. Smog - Ex-Con - Red Apple Falls (Drag City 1997)
10. Rance Allen Group - Ring My Bell - A Soulful Experience (Stax 1975)
11. Pure Essence - Third Rock - "Wake Up Pts. 1 & 2" b/w "Third Rock" 7" (Soul Cal 1976)
12. Weldon Irvine - Feelin' Mellow - Time Capsule (Nodlew 1973)

Genghis Tron - "Board Up the House"

Genghis Tron - City on a Hill (Relapse 2008)

Genghis Tron - Board Up the House / Relapse

In many conversations I've had with people since the turn of the year, opinion seems to be unanimous that 2008 has not had much to match the blockbuster first quarter we saw in 2007, when it was difficult to keep up with the number of good records coming out. '08 has woozily stumbled out of the blocks with a few hits, a few misses, but by and large has remained quiet. Until now, that is. Genghis Tron has blown open the gates with the most vibrant, cleverly vicious record in recent memory. And without a doubt since the turn of the year.

Board Up the House feels like a logical progression both from their last full-length, 2006's impossibly brutal Dead Mountain Mouth, and last year's Triple Black Diamond stopgap EP. The dynamic this Philadelphia trio works with shows respect to their own history: As Dead Mountain Mouth built on their debut Cloak of Love EP, so thusly does Board Up the House pick up where Triple Black Diamond left off in its forward thinking, its striving to mine new sonic territory, then fill those mines with mines and watch the whole thing explode. They are heavier, they are lighter, they are as reliable as they've ever been.

They are also singing, which is something that the band avoided for a considerable amount of time. As one of the most extreme bands anywhere, their hard-fought reputation for ear-melting was won largely through Mookie Singerman's flashes of vocal thrashing. In the latest incarnation of the band, "I Won't Come Back Alive" features harmonies that in the past might've been cause for a synth solo or a long ambient passage. Such is not the case here. Godcity Recording Studio guru and Converge guy Kurt Ballou has brought out melodic elements in the band that weren't there before. He has also brought out instrumentals, none of which act as filler but more as buffer zones between the mayhem. In the past, a song like "The Whips" or the deranged bagpipes of "The Feats" would've functioned as dénouements for a song following its loud middle bit. Here there appears to be a willingness to let it function on its own as a sonic experiment, an aural detour, electronic shrapnel covering guitar toxicity.

Maybe it wasn't just him, though. Maybe the band had found it on their own. The only way we know for sure what happened to the 'Tron is through the updated rendering of "Colony Collapse," which appeared in an early working version, home-recorded, on Triple Black Diamond. Tucked away near the back of this album too, "Colony Collapse" seems more muscular and capable in re-recorded form. Everything feels heavier, flatly. The guitar parts grind with a previously unknown force, grate with the sheer power of a larger band (or a more experienced one, such as tourmates The Dillinger Escape Plan). To think these sounds are coming from just three guys and a drum machine is at times impossible to believe.

The title-track and "City on a Hill" are the two most fully realized songs from this record. "City on a Hill" was one of the earliest posted tracks on the band's MySpace page, and with good reason: The synthesizer is immediately recognizable, the melody is difficult to forget, and the hardest guitar parts are all there. The same goes for the title-track. Several other songs match them, but none excel. The beauty and the brutality, the same descriptions, already this review has worn itself out. But listening to an album of this intensity and trying to write about what you're hearing is so draining, utterly draining.

So of 2008 being a quiet year, I will simply say this: As of today, there will no longer be a reason to agree. Genghis Tron are one of metal's best bets for finding new forests to torch, burning new villages, taking new names and kicking new asses. With Board Up the House, the sonic adventure continues in its most complete form yet. Do not miss out on this album.

Karl Blau - "AM"

Karl Blau - "Spring Morning" (Whistler 2008)

Karl Blau – AM / Whistler

I suppose it is appropriate that Karl Blau – an eclectic, DIY-savvy singer/songwriter from northern Washington state – chose A.A. Milne as the muse for a record. Though known almost unanimously at this point for penning the Disney-hijacked Winnie-the-Pooh stories, Milne was a widely varied writer. Primarily a playwright, he as well penned a number of novels (both fiction and non-fiction), newspaper articles, poems and humor pieces, but it all became overshadowed by the looming figure of his son, Christopher Robin, and his animated stuffed animals.

Looming over Blau is his association to D+, a trio formed by Beat Happening’s singer/guitarist Bret Lunsford and featuring drummer Phil Elvrum – who has gone on to make quite the indie-quirk name himself as The Microphones and Mount Eerie. Blau’s eclectic career, now spanning over a decade, somewhat compares with Milne’s own as the multi-instrumentalist tackles a number of different mediums to release his music, which itself is quite stylistically varied though rooted in the Northwest lo-fi indie-pop approach.

This is the second release of AM, an album inspired by the literary works of Milne and that daily reminder of life when night and day briefly cross paths, shake hands with a respectful nod and trade posts: dawn. Re-mixed, re-mastered and re-sequenced from the original release, which was only available through Blau’s own refreshing DIY periodical-label Kelp Lunacy, AM 2.0 is being released by Chicago’s Whistler Records for a wider audience.

The music is what you’ve come to expect from Blau and his K/Marriage/Knw-Yr-Own counterparts: creative and colorful; endearingly lo-fi; encompassing indie-rock, psych, folk, and the skeletal remains of soul and reggae; and most importantly, oddly charming. For an outside comparison, AM stumbles along not unlike Joan of Arc’s most recent Eventually, All at Once. The compositions, though obtusely structured, chug along behind Blau’s guitar with cut-and-paste drum syncopations and blinking melodic embellishments – keyboards, mallet instruments, accordion, ambient chirps and the occasional electronic whiz. The songwriting, again like that of Tim Kinsella or Elvrum and to an extent Syd Barrett, is the sewn together thoughts of a man who spends a lot of time meandering down sidewalks, half-heartedly walking between the cracks partly because it’s fun partly because it’s a challenge (however miniscule), mentally patching together ideas with current inspirations and eventually concluding before a microphone, guitar and tape recorder. It’s honest, rudimentary, thoughtful and charming.

Like most eclectic lo-fi pop affairs, AM shines when Blau finds a sprightly groove out of odd superimpositions of melody and instrumentation. “Spring Morning” features a skeletal snare beat and shaker rhythm lilted by a surprisingly colorful bass, warmly reverberating electric guitar, melodica and Blau’s everyman vocals. It begins in Northwest twee-pop territory and ends somewhere in Southeast Kingston. In stark contrast, “Lake King’s Daughter” pays dues to prog-rock with its amateurish-but-endearing (perhaps consciously so) guitar noodlery and analog keyboard effects. At just less than three-minutes, there is nothing over-the-top about it, but the stylistic difference is outstanding. The rest of the album follows suit in its eclecticism: the The Glow, pt.2-esque “Yellow Sunbonnet”, the near-tribal “Noah Richards Son”, the pastoral folk-guitar ambience of “Of Birds”, or the just plain catchy “In the Morning”.

If you are already a fan of the Northwest indie-rock scene, AM is probably the album you were looking for when Blau traded in his folk guitar for dance beats and echo effects on 2007’s Dance Positive (which is not a stab at the record by any means). It is just in more of the D+ vein of minimalist and obtuse indie-pop. With Milne as the muse and Day and Night as the storybook’s main characters, Blau fashions an endearing fairy tale of wistful psych-folk illustrated with dawn’s beaming rays of optimism and peacefulness. In fact, where most records of this style are better suited for lonesome late nights when you are just looking for an accessible voice to keep you company, AM is – yes – best suited for those first moments after waking up; when you need a voice, simple and sincere, to accompany the fantastic display of the sun rising over the horizon.

Singleversity #45

Audiversity’s weekly column, even more modified, on random music we stumble across during our sonic adventures. No random numbers, just straight audio goodness.

MA:



Though most of the original magic is gone, it’s hard not to be pleased with Stax Records reactivation in late 2006. Continuing with their string of newly compiled reminders of how the Memphis imprint just plain dominated southern soul music in the 60s and 70s comes Stax Does the Beatles. Maybe a bit of a cash-in and easy attention-grabber, but c’mon, it is hard to hate on Isaac Hayes stringing out “Something” – Harrison’s three-minute Abbey Road love ballad – into a twelve-minute orchestra-soul epic or a few previously unreleased instro-funk covers from Booker T. & the MGs. The jewel of the collection though comes from the least known name, one Reggie Milner. The Detroit native only released two singles with the Volt emblem printed proudly, the b-side to his first being "And I Lover Her". With it’s first ever appearance in the digital medium, Milner’s humbled falsetto and treble-heavy lo-fi production provides a fresh listen to a label heavily picked-over in the last twenty years.

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Freed from the shackles of word limits, this week seems like a good time to open up about Detroit garage-rock kings of incompetence, The Keggs. Not much is known about these monsters of the mid-60s, but according to Crypt Records head Tim Warren, the band had to change their name after every show and the guitarist was killed in a motorcycle accident. Also, Orbit Records (Not the ones from Hamburg) only pressed 75 copies of this 7" from 1967. "To Find Out" is on the a-side, an amazing bit of bar-brawl soundtracking, while "Girl" plays the toned-down b-side. Can you imagine what this group must've been like live? In the catalog of cool, The Keggs stand at the top.