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4.09.2008

Radio Show Playlist: 4/9/08



6a:
1. The Microphones - The Moon - The Glow Pt. 2 (K 2001)
2. Richard Swift - Vandervelde Blues II - Onasis II (Secretly Canadian 2008)
3. Thee Oh Sees - Graveyard Drug Part - The Master's Bedrrom is Worth Spending a Night In (Tomlab 2008)
4. Ecstatic Sunshine - B - Way (Cardboard 2008)
5. Earth - Miami Morning Coming Down II (Shining) - The Bee Made Honey in the Lion's Skull (Southern Lord 2008)
6. Terry Riley - You're No Good (edit) - You're No Good (Cortical Foundation 2000, recorded 1968)
7. Weldon Irvine - Deja Vu - Time Capsule (Nodlew 1973)

7a:
1. Colorlist - Lluvia - Lists (Off 2008)
2. Baja - Anatomy & Variation - Maps/Systemalheur (Stilll 2007)
3. Thilges - Hig - La Double Absence (Staubgold 2007)
4. Jason Kopec - Untitled Track 2 - Ground Up 2: Release the Cheerfulness, China (Noise|Order 2008)
5. Frequency - The Tortoise - Frequency (Thrill Jockey 2006)
6. Vandermark 5 - Speedplay (for Max Roach) - Beat Reader (Atavistic 2008)
7. Sun Ra - My Favorite Things - Some Blues but Not the Kind That's Blue (Atavistic 2008, originally Saturn 1977)
8. Singer - Divining - Unhistories (Drag City 2008)

8a:
1. Retribution Gospel Choir - Somebody's Someone - Retribution Gospel Choir (Caldo Verde 2008)
2. The Eternals - Patch of Blue - Heavy International (Aesthetics 2007)
3. Scott Solter Plays Pattern is Movement - In Glasstone - Canonic (Hometapes 2006)
4. Wire - Practice Makes Perfect - The Peel Sessions (Strange Fruit 1989, recorded 1978)
5. Clinic - Corpus Christi - Do It! (Domino 2008)
6. Make Believe - Sam Rollerskating Backwards - Going to the Bone Church (Flameshovel 2008)
7. Flossin - Untitled Track 12 - Lead Singer (Ache 2004)
8. Welcome - All Set - Sirs (FatCat 2007)
9. The Breeders - Walk It Off - Mountain Battles (4AD 2008)
10. Spires that the Sunset Rise - Sleeplike - This is Fire (Secret Eye 2008)
11. Scott Tuma - Eloper - Not for Nobody (Digitalis 2008)
12. Herman Dune - I Wish that I Could See You Soon - I Wish that I Could See You Soon EP (Everloving 2008)
13. Turner Cody - Lashes that Go Wide - Buds of May (Digitalis 2007, originally 2004)
14. Destroyer - Blue Flower/Blue Flame - Trouble in Dreams (Merge 2008)
15. Ted Leo/Pharmacists - Biomusicology - The Tyranny of Distance (Lookout! 2004)

4.08.2008

Various Artists - "Black Stars: Ghana's Hiplife Generation"



Nkasei (feat. Reggie Rockstone) - Adua No Ebu (Out|here 2008)

Various Artists - Black Stars: Ghana's Hiplife Generation / Out|here

My introduction to Ghana was through aircraft livery in the early 90s. Fascinated by air force insignia, I pored over a book in which Mike Spick and Barry Wheeler could offer no more than one paragraph for the nine Aermacchi MB.326F/Ks and two MB.339As that made up the country's collective combat unit. Thankfully, Ghana hasn't (comparatively) been one of the most troubled sub-Saharan African states: a few coups from 1966 to 1981, a suspension of the constitution and political parties, a return to the original vision of Lincoln University alumnus Kwame Nkrumah. Turning the corner of its 51st year, Ghana continues to show signs of both inevitable instability and gainful grassroots optimism which are continuing to make it such a quietly interesting anomaly on the continent.

Naturally, the best we way we see this dichotomy manifesting itself is in the voice of the people's popular culture. For the last 20 years, the musical playing field in particular has been leveled by one word: hiplife. Stylus did an excellent Bluffer's Guide to this in January of last year, but if you missed either that or the recent Fader 52 that also featured a piece on the hybrid of foreign-bred hip-hop and domestically dominated highlife, the short story is that it was borne in the early 90s when young Ghanaians began rapping over both imported beats and beats inspired by imported beats. I'm not going to pretend I know as much Brian Shimkovitz here, so instead I'll turn your attention to the reason you're reading this: Out|here's latest African compilation, Black Stars: Ghana's Hiplife Generation.

The Münich-based label of Africaphiles have turned their attentions to a style that has received more press outside of Africa in the last two years than in the entire history of highlife leading up to that, so their timing could not have been more apt. A much larger audience will be receptive to what Out|here is doing, but a much larger audience also means a greater chance of criticism rather than mere appreciation that the comp exists in the first place. The major one with Black Stars has already been pointed out by the BBC's John Lusk: "It would be nice to hear more of where people come from as opposed to where they're coming from." Meaning, he's hearing a little too much of Jamaica (in Ofori Amponsah's breezy island ragga, "Abelle") or the American South (in the crudely straightforward minimalist bump "Toto Mechanic" by Pidgen Allstars) and not enough of Accra or Osu.

And other than the fact that this album does stretch for 71 solid minutes, that seems reasonable. Who wants to buy a compilation of Ghanaian artists and hear something not intrinsically Ghanaian? The only problem with it is that Lusk has completely missed the point of hiplife in the first place: It's supposed to sound less like trad-Ghanaian tunes and more like post-millennial Ghanaian music for a new, more worldly set. Hiplife is the loophole in African authenticity. Ripping off elements of Afro-Cuban jazz or crunk or dub is what made hiplife, well, hip in the first place.

There are some identifiably "traditional" elements in each of these songs, but some are easier to spot than others. King Ayisoba opens the compilation with the rallying call "Modern Ghanaians," founded on the melody of a kologo (which is nearly impossible to find information on, except via Ayisoba himself), and of course there are the native tongues that litter many of these tracks (though English is the official tongue in schools, some 10 other languages exist). The beautiful low-buzzing synth that hovers outside the hut of Tinny's Ga-spoken "Aletse Ogboo" is an obvious hit, to provide a late album example.

The mid-tempo gallop of Nkasei's "Adua No Ebu" (featuring hiplife godfather Reggie Rockstone) is probably my favorite, a quick Gil Scott-Heron shoutout and poor-quality gunshots M.I.A. would laugh at driving one of the most fiery songs on the record. It's a fascinating split between the incendiary social commentary and the laid-back, playful music that drives the beat for the better part of six minutes. It's also Ghana in a nutshell: The distant clamor of violence as everything in the immediate vicinity holds itself together consistently is as much a metaphor for the nation as it is a literal description of the song.

If "international recognition of Hiplife is long overdue" as Out|here claims, then Black Stars is generous compensation for so many lost years. An array of artists big and small utilizing a multitude of languages on a number of topics is part of the rich history of hiplife that is only just now being unearthed by outsiders. The pleasure of hearing modern Ghana in music provides a beacon of hope that at least one sliver of sub-Saharan Africa can sort out its troubles without a new squad of Aermacchis when John Kufuor steps down in December.

4.07.2008

LPFM Help!

Dear people with ears who are fed up with corporate-run, monochromatic broadcast radio:

The FCC has opened up a comment window on the translator issue that is currently stifling any opportunities for independent community stations around the country. If you have ever turned on the radio just to be disappointed by your tiny spectrum of boring listening options, then please keep reading and take a few minutes to voice your support.

The FCC promised to give out radio licenses all over America in 2000 to low power community radio groups. This made the big broadcasters so mad that they got a law passed against giving out any LPFM licenses in big cities. We are working hard to get that law repealed, and then the FCC will be able to give out those urban channels. Only problem is, in the mean time, the FCC allowed some incumbents to apply for all the channels that were supposed to go to the new low power stations! These incumbents wanted to be able to repeat their signal with a "translator" station to make it go further, on a small transmitter that is identical to the ones that low power stations use. In 2003, the FCC received thousands of applications for translators, most of them far, far away from the stations that applied for them.

But the FCC can still fix this. First, they froze the translator applications, and now they have dismissed a bunch of them that were submitted by obvious speculators. Now, they need to establish a fair balance between the right of your community group to have one single channel for a local community radio station versus the right of existing stations to repeat themselves on 2nd, 3rd, 97th and 821st channels across the country. We think it should run like the school lunch line-- every one gets at least a reasonable opportunity for a first portion, before anyone gets seconds.

Remember, translators are the "repeater" signals taking up almost all of the open space on the dial in big cities like Chicago. The provide no original or local programming -- they just repeat the signal of a distant broadcast. Most of these translators are licensed to a tiny handful of religious broadcasters who have misused them to build nationwide networks. So without a change from the FCC, we get conservative sermonizing from stations in Idaho and northern California, rather than original, local programming.

It IS nice to include the line thanking the FCC for ending speculation in translator licenses. Initially, the commission had allowed companies to apply for an unlimited number of translator licenses (by contrast, LPFM owners can only have ONE license). Later, they moved it down to 50 pending licenses, and this November, they further limited pending applications to ten. This was something of a victory for LPFM, so we do want to thank them for doing that, but we need to let them know it's not enough -- that the FCC should always prioritize local broadcasting over non-local services who provide no community service.

Prometheus Radio Project is making it super easy for everyone to file comments on the translator issue with this convenient link:

http://prometheusradio.org/take_action/fcc_comments/i_wanna_station.html
Deadline is April 7th, so don't hesitate.

Please help and support local media. If you are a Chicagoan and want to join the fight: The Chicago Independent Radio Project

Jason Kopec - "Release the Cheerfulness, China"



Jason Kopec - "Untitled Track 2" (Noise|Order 2008)

Jason Kopec – Release the Cheerfulness, China: Ground Up 2 / Noise|Order

Eth-nog-ra-phy (eth- ‘nä-gruh-fē): the study and systematic recording of human cultures; a descriptive work produced from such research. (Merriam-Webster)

Jason Kopec refers to himself as a musical ethnographer. While this is not a new concept (see Sublime Frequencies as a popular and well executed example), it’s a practice that typically leads to very interesting results, especially for audiophiles. Historically, traditional ethnographers gain an expertise in their field of interest by holistic research methods. In other words, it’s the complete submergence into another culture by an anthropologist to try and form qualitative and quantitative descriptions of different societies and social occurrences. The goal is to achieve as good of an understanding of the situation as possible by first-hand experience and report it in some sort of research paper for others to learn from and become culturally aware and stimulated. As a musical ethnographer, this would enlist a similar approach to research with an enlightening audio statement as the final product. The product of Kopec’s research is presented through the Ground Up series via his own label, Noise|Order Recordings. His field recordings sidestep compete academia though thanks to a lack of accompanying information, which surprisingly plays to the album’s favor in this writer’s opinion.

Kopec dubbed Group Up 2, Release the Cheerfulness, China. As the title implies, it consists of field recordings he captured during a four-month expedition through the vast East Asian civilization. Unlike a lot of ethnomusicological studies, it does not concentrate on a highly specific style, instrument, people or concentrated area. Instead, Kopec apparently just meanders with ears open and microphone ready. The contents of the disc range from captured ambient scenes – like that of Shanghai traffic noise or peaceful nature chirps – to traditional music or channel flipping through local television. The liner notes are sparse to an alarming degree, leaving less to be learned from these audible culture glimpses as to be aesthetically enjoyed.

The sonic scenes are not terribly hard to decipher. There are tracks that solely concentrate on a particular native instrument performance, such as the refined glissando of a guqin during the second track or the familiar awkward yearns of a solo erhu performance on track nine. When the ensembles are larger, for example the sixteen-minute meditative performance of bells, strings, flutes and bass drum during track twelve or the slightly militaristic sounding track eight, pinpointing a particular style of music or geographical area where it may stem from would only be possible for folks experienced in Chinese culture.

The ambient scenes run a similar course of vague identifiability. The highly resonant space recorded in track eleven conjures images of massive temples or maybe even natural caves as hollow soundwaves and sparse gong hits cascade into an eerie, unsettling drone. And the final two tracks capture what sounds like a late evening plaza scene as ambient conversation and a passing vehicle are drowned out by the menacing chirp of some sort of species in the Acrididae family. The common listener can always form a generic mental image of the circumstances under which Kopec turned on his field kit, but the specifics are left to Kopec’s memory alone, letting the sounds transcend any kind of voyeurism into a sort of indefinable music.

This is all thanks to the lack of liner notes on Kopec’s part. It’s simultaneously frustrating from an academic standpoint and alleviating by forcing the recordings into simply a recreational listen. Release the Cheerfulness, China could just as easily be a study on curious sonic characteristics of the East Asian culture, but instead it becomes a transportive piece of ambient music suitable for nearly any circumstance when you just want something exotic on in the background of your apartment. I’m not sure if this makes Kopec the musical ethnographer he proclaims to be, but instead a sonic photographer. The moment is captured not for the particular details to be pieced together into the bigger puzzle of understanding life, but to be enjoyed in aesthetic sense as an interesting scene unable to be recreated and displaying the momentary beauty of the exotic world we live in.

4.05.2008

Singleversity #52



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

MA:



Drunken dialogue is a thing of both sheer embarrassment and protean beauty. It ebbs and flows between grandiose pontification and petty sarcasm, creating a rather malleable cadence between conversationalists that has a certain charm to it. Within a group of witty personalities, the banter can become a poignant, unpredictable free-flow of individual ideas and mental competitiveness. I hear this same kind of fluid idealism in the Joe Chambers piece "Idle While" from the Bobby Hutcherson-led Dialogue (Blue Note 1965). Each player on the session – Chambers, Hutcherson, Freddie Hubbard, Sam Rivers, Andrew Hill, and Richard Davis – takes a turn adding his two cents after the wobbly opening chorus, which behind Hubbard’s muted trumpet and Rivers’ wispy flute, sounds a lot like what was playing in my head during my drunken stumble from the bar last night. Each of the highly regarded post-bop players give calm, contemplative solos that aren’t as much straight technical workouts as freer, more conversational lines. I’d be interested to know under what circumstances this session took place, because the music is just so relaxed, dim-lit, idiomatic and amiable that it’s intoxicating.

PM:

So I did it. I finally went and became one of the white earbuds set and got myself an iPod. This 4-gig bad boy seemed like a good idea when I heard the deal, so I threw down the necessary guineas and florins for it and came up with something to keep me awake at work in the down time between emails to CEOs (or, more usually, their secretaries). I loaded a bunch of stuff onto it earlier this week and would've posted the first song I ever played, but Michael already did that with Alice Coltrane's "Journey in Satchidananda" two years ago, so tough luck for you.

After a few days, I realized I still wasn't confident in public even though it was loaded with [what I think are] great tunes. My only problem with this thing is the color. It's pink. Not even Boris pink or ironic scene-circa-'02 pink or fuschia or magenta; this motherfucker begs for a Bedazzling by a bunch of overenthused 13-year-old girls at a Friday night sleepover. Not that color matters, but pink really isn't one of my favorite colors. Never has been. Just don't like it. Pink and maybe brown. I don't like brown, either. Anyway, I found a typically cheap solution yesterday to the lack of masculinity in my portable music player: I deleted everything that was on it and replaced it with a comprehensive discography of The Jesus Lizard.



The Jesus Lizard are, as best I can tell, the most masculine band in the history of music. But even their seven LPs and numerous addenda aren't enough for a nine-hour workday. For variety's sake, I added Young Widows, who have by now frightened away any Breather Resist hangers-on. They drink beer, they wear flannel, they're from Louisville, their name is fucking Young Widows. Not enough? Maybe "The Charmers" live from 2006's Jade Tree debut Settle Down City will sell you. This particular jingle comes from a hometown performance at Headliners the night Duane Denison laughed to meet his once-a-year quota while dozens of innocent civilians cried in fear. Actually, that's every night. The Jesus Lizard as the Chuck Norris Wolf of music, can I get an amen?

4.03.2008

Fuck Buttons - "Street Horrrsing"



Fuck Buttons - Okay, Let's Talk About Magic (ATP/R 2008)

Fuck Buttons - Street Horrrsing / ATP/R

What's Good About This Album

- Fuck Buttons are emerging as a refreshing new voice in the latest generation of noise-based artists fascinated by the possibilities in doing more with noise than merely make it loudly. The patterns, the subtleties, the intricate builds and steadfast rhythms layered hazily beneath the drones of this relatively short album are at times cleverly crafted for two kids out of Bristol, England.

- Benjamin John Power and Andrew Hung are both relatively young, leaving open the possibility of further evolution and development if the SXSW overexposure hasn't already gotten to them.

- Even with that said, what they've done with tracks like "Sweet Love for Planet Earth" is make a sonic melange that recalls everyone from My Bloody Valentine to Over the Atlantic to Yellow Swans to Wolf Eyes to M83. In short, it mixes some electronic beats with equally artificial synth noise for a spot-on sound that shows promising signs of going further than the fleeting tribal beats or occasional vocal appearance will allow.

- For future press releases: It's what Black Dice would sound like if they grew up listening to synth-pop instead of hardcore, Modern English instead of Minor Threat. Or, in blogosphere terms, Black Dice for the Justice set.

What's Bad About This Album

- Hype, clearly.

- Some parts feel underdeveloped at times. By underdeveloped, I might also mean overly simplistic; is it the screamy gothic vocals left over from their early days? Is it that these tracks feel like they could be something more and just never turn out that way? Is it merely the parody-worthy cover-art? Each person will find a different reason for criticism because, as a lot of people have been quick to point out, "it's not perfect." Well, yeah.

- It sucks broken up into parts because each song bleeds into another; track points are arbitrary. I'm sorry that we run a blog and that we insist on only offering one song at a time (Actually, no I'm not), but you're just going to have to take my word for it on this one when I say that this thing is so, so much better taken as a whole than it is broken up into parts for your fragile little mind to consume. Does that offend you, yeah? Well you can just go Hype Machine the rest. It's not like you found us through the Trapt door anyway.

- It's not called Street Whorrrsing, which is much funnier because you get the sleaze and a two-bit "Oh, here's another horse band!" punchline.

- We're only one album in. Probably not a good idea to get carried away with the hyperbole. Yet.

4.02.2008

Scott Tuma - "Not for Nobody"



Scott Tuma - "Rakes" (Digitalis 2008)

Scott Tuma – Not for Nobody / Digitalis

Book-ending Scott Tuma's third solo album is a pair of elegiac tunes narrated by a teetering high-pitched voice. Like most of Tuma's music, the atmosphere is eerie and somber: wooden panels creek beneath barely audible acoustic guitar melodies, wind chimes ping softly somewhere in the distance, and the low mechanical hum of a rundown pick-up truck rumbles past the microphone once or twice. It's as if a field mouse is crooning the loss of a loved one in the dark and damp corner of an abandoned shed somewhere in the rain-soaked farm fields of Tennessee. "So long, so sorry to you" he aches in his squeaking falsetto, obviously on the verge of tears; the feelings of remorse, anxiety and solitude in his voice clearer than the instrumentation used to create the mood. It would sound rather ridiculous of it wasn't so damn heart wrenching. Tuma has always had a talent for rustic, elegant and bittersweet music, Not for Nobody is just a reminder that he exists in a class of his own when it comes to such categorizations.

Tuma's expansive and experimental take on country, folk and bluegrass obviously originate from his time spent in Souled American, a Chicago-based roots rock band that helped pioneer the indie- and alt-country movements which bloomed in the early-to-mid 90s. Their winding discography, which eventually intertwined numerous genres – from psych to dub to r'n'b – into their rustic sound has been an influence on almost every country-based indie-rock icon since (Uncle Tupelo, Palace, Smog, etc). After their disbandment in the mid-90s, Tuma joined the Michael Krassner-helmed Boxhead Ensemble, which not only featured a number of the artists Tuma helped influence – Will Oldham, Edith Frost, the Tren Brothers – but members of Chicago's burgeoning avant-garde jazz scene like Ken Vandermark, Fred Lonberg-Holm, David Grubbs and Jim O'Rourke among others. Their minimalist and intimate jazz landscapes seep heavily into Tuma's solo work.

Like Tuma’s previous solo albums before it – 2001’s Hard Again and 2003’s The River 1 2 3 4 – Not for Nobody exists as an ethereal spirit in the graveyard of Americana music. Recorded mostly with guitar, banjo, harmonium and hand percussion, Tuma sets himself in an acoustic-friendly room and picks away at somber, meandering melodies reminiscent of lost folk songs and backwoods ballads. The twanged nylon strings fill the room with cascading harmonies, and soft overdubs of harmonium, bells and the occasional moaning horn add all the more emotion to the already affecting sound. From the confident march of “Eloper” to the acoustic guitar and tape-hiss ballad “Moccasoclea,” each track ties your heartstrings deftly to the porch so you are forced to watch the sun set over the auburn fields of grain.

Differentiating himself from most modern folk revivalists, Tuma’s talent is not as much in his ability to speed-pick his way through archaic stringed instruments, but his mastering of resonant harmonies and room sound. A track like “Newjoy” for example falls closer to the Stars of the Lid camp with its tone-rich wall of harmonium swells than much of anything coming out of the School of John Fahey. Then there are songs like “Jason” and “Loversrock1” – featuring Chicago bassist Jason Ajemian – that are more folksy takes on minimalist free jazz with their lack of definable structure. Not to mention the diversity between each track just in terms of recording method. I don’t have the specifications in front of me, but I would be pretty surprised if any of these songs were cut in an actual recording studio as opposed to a series of field recordings.

Of course Tuma does pay his respects to the Americana music that bred his musical taste, if only with “Tiktaalik.” Named after the evolutionary link between ancient fish and amphibians, Tuma faintly plucks the melody to “Camptown Races” in between a tapestry of nylon strings. It’s instantly familiar and nostalgic, but as the song proceeds, Tuma drops the pace and saturates it in a room full of resonating harmonies and out-of-phase multi-tracking. Like the rest of Not for Nobody, the mood it conjures is somber and placid, the atmosphere thick, the music fragile, and the overall vibe rather confusing and more often than not, downtrodden. You are forced to ponder, reminisce and daydream within the cascading timbres. An exacting portrait of thought may never fully form, but the hazy memories and tender emotions Tuma evokes with his voiceless melodic glimmers are plenty enough to force you to sit down and recollect yourself before leaving the room.

Radio Show Playlist: 4/2/08



6a:
1. Can - Pinch - Ege Bamyasi (Spoon 1972)
2. Excepter - Any and Every - Debt Dept (Paw Tracks 2008)
3. Oneida - Ceaser's Column - Secret Wars (Jagjaguwar 2004)
4. Tim Hecker - Celestina - Mirages (Alien8 2004)
5. Static North - Stubborn Tiny Lights - Static North (self-released 2007)
6. Corespondents - Crowning - Hairy Ghost Pipefish (Noise Order 2007)
7. Scott Tuma - Nobody (River of Tin) - Not for Nobody (Digitalis 2008)
8. Rachel's - Water from the Same Source - Systems & Layers (Quarterstick 2003)
9. Town & Country - King of Portugal - Up Above (Thrill Jockey 2006)

7a:
1. Rahsaan Roland Kirk - We Free Kings - We Free Kings (Mercury 1961)
2. Ornette Coleman - Matador - Sound Grammar (Sound Grammar 2006)
3. Nat Adderley - Work Song - Work Song (Riverside 1960)
4. Colorlist - These Complimentary - Lists (Off 2008)
5. Chicago Underground Trio - Protest - Slon (Thrill Jockey 2004)
6. Motorpsycho + Jaga Jazzist Horns - Doffen Ah Um - In the Fishtank #10 (Konkurrent 2002)
7. Earth - The Bee Made Honey in the Lion's Skull - The Bee Made Honey in the Lion's Skull (Southern Lord 2008)
8. Zelienople - Moss Man - His/Hers (Type 2007)

8a:
1. Singer - Oh Dusty - Unhistories (Drag City 2008)
2. Shalabi Effect - Imps - Pink Abyss (Alien8 2004)
3. Wooden Shjips - We Ask You to Ride - Wooden Shjips (Holy Mountain 2007)
4. Mission of Burma - Einstein's Day - Vs. (Ace of Hearts 1982)
5. Jesus Lizard - Nub - Goat (Touch & Go 1991)
6. Ladyhawk - I Don't Always Know What You're Saying - Shots (Jagjaguwar 2008)
7. Make Believe - Wearin' Torn - Going to the Bone Church (Flameshovel 2008)
8. Clinic - The Witch (Made to Measure) - Do It! (Domino 2008)
9. Thee Oh Sees - Graveyard Drug Party - The Master's Bedroom is Worth Spending a Night In (Tomlab 2008)
10. Foals - Olympic Airwaves - Antidotes (Sub Pop 2008)
11. Q and Not U - We Heart Our Hive - No Kill No Beep Beep (Dischord 2000)
12. Spiller Whale - Raptures & Drynesses - Fresh Tables EP (Uncle Grandpa 2007) !!!!!!!!!!Read Chicagoans Read!!!!!!!!!!!

4.01.2008

Trapt - "Only Through the Pain"



Trapt - Contagious (Warner Bros. 2008)

Trapt - Only Through the Pain / Warner Bros.

I can see the look on your face now. Even if you don't already know who Trapt is, that "Warner Bros." tag right there at the top has you suspicious. This is understandable for a blog that often features artists flying well below the sociocultural radar of sonic change. But we pride ourselves as much on being open-minded as on being forward-thinking here at Audiversity, and just like our comprehensive reviews last year of Radiohead and LCD Soundsystem, sometimes seeing the future of music requires looking beyond the college radio circuit. So we finally have an answer for you, Ronnie: Yeah. We've signed with the majors. And it feels fucking amazing.

Trapt have been in the game for over a decade now, but their real mainstream breakthrough came in 2002 with the single "Headstrong" and a chart-topping success in their self-titled major label debut (though they had produced limited runs of two earlier albums, Amalgamation and Glimpse, for fans in their early days). Released in late 2005, follow-up Someone in Control was by and large a disappointment as the band retreated to the same tactics that had won over so many fans the first time around. In fact, by consolidating their position in the alt-rock kingdom, Trapt hindered their own chances of making a definitive career statement. They were - ahem - trapped by the decaying structuralist pillars of post-grunge over which they had no control. That ends here. Trapt have a new statement in post-structuralist theory, a new discourse to shape the reality that is modern rock radio. That statement has arrived, and it is Only Through the Pain.

The basic tenet of post-structuralism, of course, is that we see what we're taught to see in what we learn. And what we learn is shaped by the realities we experience. Theory becomes reality, vice versa.
Chris Brown, Peter Charell and Aaron Montgomery have learned and experienced enough of broken hearts and the music business, and they're fed up with it. This album signals an alteration of the orthodox, the grand narrative of grunge that has been falling with all the art of a V2 in a Pynchon novel (beautiful for sure, but ultimately self-destructive). The band are actively aborting the mission, attempting to break with this well-known and much-abused narrative of determinism. They are their own social process, a new breed breaking with the distorted conventions of three-minute pop songs cloaked in bad lyrics and full of misguided fans screaming "Add me back on MySpace and I'll love you forever!" as they throw up another worthless set of devil horns. They are changing History as we know it. 180 more degrees and Kurt Cobain has turned right-side up once again. This is the watermark.

It's also Trapt's own personal Waterloo. Chris Brown has tried to force every variation of the word "fuck" onto past albums in search of Authenticity, but as songs like "Black Rose" prove here, Only Through the Pain is unequivocally strongest without them. When Brown swears now, he's swearing because there is no choice, because no words are left, because he actually means it. This is not a generated pastiche of every alt-rock hit from the last ten years. This is different because the mentality behind it is different. Trapt has cut the wretched excess, the pretension, the utter absurdity of both its early material and their (former) contemporaries and broken new ground. It is a career epoch, the sound of Columbus finding the West Indies or Marco Polo reaching the end of The Silk Road. It's also the sound of Baudrillard dying of typhoid.

"Who's Going Home With You Tonight," the first single, is arguably a career highlight. Though it sounds suspiciously familiar to long-time fan-favorite "Use Me to Use You" on cursory listens and has already invited criticism because of that, the nearsightedness of being unable to see the forest from the trees is evident to those looking for retreads of previous career stamps - This is a song that breathes new life into eighth-wave grunge just when you thought the next Three Days Grace single was all you'd had left to live for. Though not as willfully spectacular as "Contagious" featured here, "Who's Going Home With You Tonight" is a stirring raison d'etre that will have you hitting repeat until your CD player is broken. Assuming people still use those, that is.

The 14-minute untitled bonus cut that's hidden on the promo tracklisting is the ultimate display of power and passive-aggression. This is a total red herring and that may be why we haven't posted it here; not being representative of the album sonically (though thematically it is another beast altogether), this hidden track displays all of Trapt's strongest points without actually saying anything. They have moved beyond the traditional definition of "text" and embraced Derrida to produce what may be the best song in their dense catalog, a bewildering instrumental pastiche of detuned downstrokes and pedal pyrotechnics that produces as spectacular a climax as anything you've heard in the past year. Actually, maybe it's better we haven't posted it; this song deserves to be heard by more than anyone earthbound. We are not yet ready to appreciate its subtle nuances and arcing dynamic shifts.

Five of the songs are already available through the Fancorps even though this album doesn't come out until July 9th after originally being slated for September 18th. Sort of an In Rainbows syndrome in reverse (or, to use a better recent example, The Odd Couple), Trapt has cleverly opted to heighten fans' expectations for this album by leaking finished material as early as possible. That is only the beginning of a much grander statement, of a much larger adjustment of the status quo. This is a revolutionary album in disguise that will likely suffer through a quick dismissal by the traditional media outlets and music "fans" alike. That is their loss. Only Through the Pain is divorced from five-star ratings and tired comparisons to Chevelle because it sees the world not through stars or dollar figures or even a level playing field. It sees reality in 28 dimensions, a peach in the mind of Stephen Hawking. It is a brief history of the world as we will know it. Trapt are ready. Why aren't you?

3.31.2008

Ulaan Khol - "I"



Ulaan Khol - Untitled [2] (Soft Abuse 2008)

Ulaan Khol - I / Soft Abuse

Since it seemed such a remarkable coincidence, I tried to find a creative way to connect Steven R. Smith's latest outing under the Ulaan Khol moniker in I with a book I've recently finished reading, Stephen Dixon's I.. Listening to this record over and over, nothing of its shimmering strums and well-deep reverb remind you of Dixon's self-reflective, straightforward prose. They could hardly be more different.

Reading an acquaintance's blog recently, the first artist that struck me instead was Belgian Francis Alÿs. A former architect who, according to The Brooklyn Rail, "became an artist out of curiosity, boredom, vanity, and a surplus of indefinitely extended vacations," Alÿs is very much into "the poetic act," an act that functions as a metaphor in place of an actual condition. Through this act, Alÿs creates a "sudden loss of self" where the viewer can reflect on the condition from a new perspective as a "pause in the social apparatus."

The example that Brantley describes is "The Re-enactment" from 2000, wherein Alÿs purchased a handgun and walked around downtown Mexico City "waiting for something to happen." More than any other piece, "The Re-enactment" is a perfect parallel for Ulaan Khol. I is an album that purchases a fully loaded shoegazing Glock and walks into a crowd of unsuspecting fried-out psych-rockers waiting for something to happen.

It starts with the torn guitar distortion of "Untitled [1]," a reverb-filled affair that sets the exact tone of the album. They all sound like this. The strings are left spectacularly unfettered and the playing sounds sloppy, which is especially effective in this context. The muted drums at the end fade into the second track which we've provided here. As far as highlights go, in an otherwise murky and formless record, this would have to be it. Nothing is so exact as the clattered percussion of this song. It is a surge of noise, but you can just barely make out the drums dug down so deep in the mix.

It would be appropriate to drop any one of Smith's other names and projects - Thuja or Hala Strana or Mirza - but ultimately these sounds return to the bigger names you're familiar with: Belong most closely, My Bloody Valentine, Flying Saucer Attack, even a more terse Boris. Like Belong, Ulaan Khol takes time to appreciate and is often more interesting because of its subtle shifts and manipulations and swirling sounds than because of its melodies or its payoffs.

SAB026 is a fearsome album, but not because it's intrinsically fierce. This, then, is how Ulaan Khol and Belong tie in to Alÿs: Other than "Untitled [2]," I is content to simply walk into the market square armed appearing ready to fire. The 'Valentines and Ride and The Psychic Paramount all let their ammunition spill on their respective LPs. That never really happens here. The droning organ on "Untitled [7]" catches a roaring feedback fest and loops it before fading to an anticlimax. Maybe the soaring solo on "Untitled [3]" counts, but there is too much drone working against a satisfying explosion. Nobody gets killed in the crossfire, but everyone is excited, panicking, reacting. The pause in our particular social apparatus is that, wait a minute, crashing drums or soaring Mammatus-like vocals don't appear when we most expect them to? Why not? The album leaves no time for answers. In 36 short minutes, the authorities of the status quo have already arrested Smith and taken Ulaan Khol in for questioning. The first third of "Ceremony" is complete while Gamelan Into the Mink Supernatural continues to run free in the merciless, unjust streets.

We don't yet know what "Ceremony" will bring us (The second installment is due this coming fall). We have no storyline to go on and virtually no visual hints beyond Smith looking away amidst a dark cluster of skulls on the inside fold. The swampy guitar drones give only a cursory indication of what any of it means. But perhaps Smith is more like Stephen Dixon than I might've led myself to believe. Maybe "Ceremony" is merely the afterthought to the bits and pieces, the hazy remembrances of each "Untitled" track, hopelessly lost in the beauty of this nine-song quagmire. You - I., that is - can remember the titanic percussion swells and the wobbling solo breaks, but where were they? The second "Untitled" or the seventh? The nature of memory and of remembered details, truths - maybe this is what "Ceremony" is about. For now, all we have is what Alÿs has taught us about seeing outside ourselves. We're pausing to see if Smith really does have a gun, even if we won't remember later that it was a Beretta.

3.29.2008

Singleversity #51



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

MA:



J Dilla + Minnie Ripperton = soul-hop perfection. Tacked on to the long-delayed release of Slum Village’s debut/demo album Fan-Tas-Tic Vol. 1 (recorded 96-97, released 2005), "Look of Love (Remix)" comprises all of the best elements of the Detroit rap trio: Dilla’s sweet-grooved boom-bap, the off-the-cuff ruminations of Baatin and T3, the humbled basement-studio production quality and of course, the surprisingly terse and biting lyrical content despite a vibe that’s more Tribe than Snoop. Look no further for the seeds of the contemporary Detroit rap sound, not to mention the beginning of Dilla’s heralded career.

PM:














I have the apartment to myself this weekend, but instead of partying it up with Hercules and Love Affair (which apparently tops Audiversity's hypothetical "Loved and Hated" list that Cokemachineglow recently ditched) or self-destructively drinking myself into a corner, I've been quietly relaxing for the most part to Florida-born, Philly-bred, Goddard College acting alum Archie Shepp and his 1977 release On Green Dolphin Street. The tenor sax maestro got his career going with Cecil Taylor in the early 60s and through "New Thing" collaborations with both Taylor and John Coltrane, Shepp made a name for himself that allowed him to explore more possibilities in the 1970s with everyone from Max Roach to his own Attica Blues Big Band. For a long time, the fastest way to Shepp was through the University of Massachusetts-Amherst's courses in "Revolutionary Concepts in African-American Music" and "Black Musician in the Theater," but he's retired since. With one of the lowest album ratings in Shepp's AllMusic guide, On Green Dolphin Street doesn't match his more forward-thinking release from '77 in Goin' Home. Doesn't matter to me. Sometimes it's nice to hear the title-track and understand why Shepp is so great without all the frilly ambition and prefix-addled self-importance of his groundbreaking works.

3.28.2008

Hercules & the Love Affair - "Hercules & the Love Affair" Counterpoint!

it gave me a headache. i don't like it. the end. love michael.

3.26.2008

Make Believe - "Going to the Bone Church"



Make Believe - "Wearin' Torn" (Flameshovel 2008)

Make Believe – Going to the Bone Church / Flameshovel

In 1965, when Mick Jagger declared "I can't get no satisfaction / 'cause I try and I try and I try and I try", it encompassed the voice of a generation. As the years tolled on, and the Stones' tours (and ages) have reached the triple digits, the once inspiring song has evolved into a staple of the dive bar where the satisfaction not being reached is more sexual frustration than anything. But I think Jagger envisioned more with his statement. His snarling delivery resides somewhere between commentary and biting sarcasm; it encompasses the insatiable appetites (for wealth, notoriety, sex, etc) of modern life, and perhaps – as the length of the Stones' discography might imply – his creative endeavors. When Make Believe frontman Tim Kinsella aches "I can't understand satisfaction" in the waning moments of Going to the Bone Church, I hear the same frustration. We're now living a post-modern life though, and Kinsella rightfully re-evaluates even the notion of satisfaction. It's a telling thought from one of Chicago's most idiosyncratic and prolific songwriters, and the reason why this album was not supposed to exist.

On July 1st, 2007, Make Believe opened for Tortoise at the Metro; it was supposed to be their final show. According to Flameshovel, Kinsella was frustrated and unsatisfied with his position in the group as solely the lyricist/singer, though there is no room for any more musical additions to Make Believe’s sound without completely re-establishing themselves in a new guise. This is understandable, because while Kinsella personifies the group to an extent with his abstract commentaries, unmistakable raspy yelp and confrontational stage presence, the real distinction between Make Believe and hundreds of other contemporary underground rock bands is their rhythm section. Drummer/keyboardist Nate Kinsella and bassist Bobby Burg piece together rather catchy grooves, but then proceed to drop every third or fourth bar. So instead of grooving straight ahead, songs awkwardly shift and stutter creating even more intriguing rhythms for Sam Zurick’s already abstract approach to crunchy guitar melodies and Tim’s obtuse phrasing.

After courting a number of suitors for the frontman position, Tim rejoined the group with a less-is-more attitude; perhaps not as much trying to force satisfaction, but taking a step back to attempt to understand just what it means to be satisfied. The refreshed line-up spent six days recording at Chicago’s Electrical Audio studio and is set to release Going to the Bone Church – their third full-length – at the end of April, but only available in vinyl format.

This new record is a continuation of the band’s increasingly mellowed sound. The elements and instrumentation remain the same, but with a calmed clarity in both production and performance. Nate’s drum and Wurlitzer rhythms are not as much a tool of urgency as a grounding force to Zurick’s short elliptical guitar phrases. There are still tracks of disjointed paranoia – like that of opener “Ooo-Yum” with multi-tracked yelps and calls between jerky post-punk outbursts – but mid-tempo jaunts like “Sam Rollerskating Backwards” and the rather melodic “Wearin’ Torn” are much more prevalent and in that manner, affecting.

Make Believe was originally intended as the more aggressive outlet for the Joan of Arc touring members. They achieved this with their excellent self-titled debut EP and their first full-length, Shock of Being. Going to the Bone Church is created with the exact same tools (guitar, bass, drums, wurlitzer, vocals) and approach to songwriting (you could almost call it post-post-punk), but resounds of maturity because of its patience and lack of purely punk-derived chaos. These are finely pieced together songs – however jagged the final product may be – with a number of rather affectionate moments. For example, the band reveals their playfulness for the first time as Tim concludes a spoken-word rant at the end of the title track. Instead of masking it in serious artfulness, they leave the tape rolling as he breaks out into a silly sing-song which causes the entire band to erupt in laughter. Because what’s more satisfying than having fun at what you enjoy to do?

3.24.2008

Records being spun by yours truly Tuesday evening (3/25) from 10p-2a at the Burlington in Chicago. Come out and say hello.

3.22.2008

Singleversity #50



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

MA:



I typically read books on jazz to try and comprehend the revolutionary cats of the 60s avant-garde era, but as with trying to understand anything, you have to know the roots before you can get the stems. Not too long ago, I worked my way through Gary Giddins’ excellent Visions of Jazz: The First Century, and despite being quite taken by the chapters on the Modern Jazz Quartet, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Charles Mingus and Muhal Richard Abrams, I was most fascinated by Artie Shaw; a far cry from the free jazz experimenters. The clarinetist could have achieved the legendary status of Benny Goodman, but walked away from his musical career a total of five times until finally leaving the industry in 1954 for good (he didn’t pass away until 2004). The bridge between swing and bop, Shaw was appalled by the idea that his music was transforming him from, in Giddins’ words, “an introspective, adventurous, irreverent musician into a celebrity on autopilot – little better, in his unforgiving view, than a trained seal.” His goal was to become the best clarinetist he believed possible, and when he achieved that he walked away for good. His last recording, "Yesterdays" (found on Artie Shaw: The Last Recordings, Rare & Unreleased), is a haunting ballad of tonal perfection with delicate melodic passages provided by pianist Hank Jones and guitarist Joe Puma. A sobering late night (and career) come down if there ever was one.

PM:

I know this was Singleversity #50, and it was supposed to be something special, and I was going to have something for you, but I think Snöleoparden did it to me. I've lost it.



(Patrick has gone insane, but he will return next week. Probably. -Ed.)

3.21.2008

Collections of Colonies of Bees - "Birds"



Collections of Colonies of Bees - "Flocks IV" (Radium 2008)

Collections of Colonies of Bees – Birds / Radium

Establishing an identity in the faceless world of post-rock has always been the genre’s Achilles’ heel. Now on the downside of its popularity arc, any ambitious instrumental band purveying the experimental rock sub-style typically gets grouped in behind one of the genre’s poster children (Slint, Tortoise, Talk Talk, Gastr del Sol, Godspeed!, Labradford, etc) and is more or less left for irrelevant. Much like being pegged with the indie rock tag these days, one assumes the basic scope of the sound, writes it off as derivative, and moves on to a new, more exciting buzzword. But in doing so, you can overlook intriguing evolutions, which with a stylistic description as vague as post-rock is very easy to do. There are musicians like Chris Rosenau and Jon Mueller who have been a part of the scene for fifteen-odd years, and simply enjoy experimenting with guitars, drums and electronics. Those pieces keep them under the post-rock guise, but the music shifts continuously keeping the sound of each concurrent album a guessing game. And that’s all I ask as an obsessed listener regardless of genre.

Guitarist Rosenau and percussionist Mueller started Collections of Colonies of Bees in 1998 in a flurry of band forming in the Milwaukee rock scene (Pele, Vermont, Telecognac, and Raccoons all stem from a very close family of players including Rosenau and Mueller). Like the ethos of their label that was started the very same year – Crouton Music – CoCoB is an idea and any resulting sound is “only part of the picture”. The idea: what would traditional folk and bluegrass instrumentation sound like if brought up to date and utilized with modern experimental recording techniques and technology? The result: 1998’s Collections of Colonies of Bees and 2000’s Rance; both dreamy, drunk and heavily textured experimental folk albums that bridged Directions in Music, John Fahey, Gastr del Sol, Pullman, Sandy Bull and Cul de Sac.

The latter half of CoCoB’s existence has seen the band expand with each album and slowly but surely leave the backwoods instrumentation and folksy influences behind. By 2004’s Customer – released by Pele’s label-home Polyvinyl – the band was piecing together arrangements one digitally segmented second at a time. The tinkered stuttering sound makes for excellent headphone music and is a prime example of a well-balanced approach of melodicism and experimentation. This is where we find CoCoB in 2008, releasing Birds on Radium – a subsidiary of the excellent experimental label Table of Elements – and interestingly enough moving back to the core of post-rock: melodic electric guitar wizardry, technically proficient and rather anthemic kit work, and of course, a little studio gimmickry and electronic augmentation.

For their first time in CoCoB’s existence, Birds sounds like a record created with the live show in mind. Mueller’s recorded drums are left wholly in tact – a far cry from the previous few efforts – and while he occasionally works the odder intricacies of his kit, for the most part the rhythmic backbone is rather bombastic and triumphant. Rosenau, joined by baritone guitarist Dan Spack, keeps with the uplifting cadences by not so much riff-based workouts but tight, elliptical patterns that weave in and out of each other. Maybe a rather odd comparison, but it reminds me a lot of Sam Zurick’s approach to the guitar while providing obtuse leads to Make Believe and previously Owls. But those instances are of course well balanced with the subtle, free-form picking of the quieter moments from the record. Also now traveling members of the band, Thomas Wincek and former Pele member Jim Schoenecker augment the hearty rock sound with warm touches of Fender Rhodes, analog synthesizers and the occasional electronic buzzing.

Four tracks in nearly forty minutes, Birds doesn’t as much transcend the boundaries of post-rock as enliven the genre’s best attributes. “Flocks II” and “Flocks III”, though sprinkled with curious minimalist edits and electronic twinkles, adhere to the cymbal-driven climax and comedown approach with militaristic cadences counteracting the warmly chiming guitars. “Flocks I” is a bit more untamed structure-wise, and in fact sounds like an unedited outtake from the Customer sessions. And finally, “Flocks IV” delivers the inviting melodicism the band has been perfecting the last ten years as rhythmic patterns are layered and tenderly interlocked as established by the Reichian School of Arranging.

Birds is not particularly the indefinable album I had hoped from Collections of Colonies of Bees, but it is an excellent reminder of how much I enjoy post-rock when it is performed with a sunny disposition. However easily categorized it is though, Rosenau and Mueller are talented musicians, and Birds is crafted with a crisp idea in mind and impeccable production. They now just exist outside of those stuffy headphones. And besides, it’s about time post-rock fans started getting out of the house more anyways.

3.19.2008

Nalle - "The Siren's Wave"



Nalle - "Alice's Ladder" (Locust 2008)

Nalle – The Siren’s Wave / Locust

Last night, with a head thoroughly blotted with congestion and cold medicine, I drifted mercifully to sleep watching The Sword of Doom in an unfamiliar apartment. I lost consciousness at Ryunosuke's height of confidence as a ronin, emotionlessly carrying out assassinations and ignoring his mistress and their baby son. When I came to sometime later, the samurai was frantically fighting off shadows, his formerly commanding poise slashed by his own evil sword/soul. It was a surreal moment thanks to my clouded consciousness and only exemplified by listening to The Siren's Wave on the trip home. The Glasgowian trio Nalle crafts a sound that is not solely inspired by their Scottish surroundings nor many of their contemporaries. While traditional European folk and the buzzing drone of the Great Highland bagpipe are certainly prominent influences, Eastern modal elements are just as prevalent. The music is both unsettling with its odd tunings and harsh pitches and hypnotic with its fluid drone; much like Okamoto's samurai film with its visceral and almost absurdly violent imagery paired with the mesmeric cinematography and pace. The contrast makes for a much more interesting experience.

Nalle is three multi-instrumentalists: visual artist Hanna Tuulikki, The Family Elan’s Chris Hladowski and Aby Vulliamy. For their second full-length as a band – and their first for Locust Music – the trio entered the studio with John Cavanagh, whose collection of analog electronics and recording devices have helped further develop their avant-folk sound. The added instrumentation provides more of a definable structure for the lyrical voices (flutes, violin, bouzouki, Tuulikki’s captivating vocals) to experiment overtop. The austerity of their prior release is replaced with a large palette of autumnal colors, and the recording is more intriguing for it.

Now I use “definable structure” loosely, as each of the six tracks has little to do with traditional song arrangements. A continuously swelling and patient drone is used as the foundation of each song creating a sensation not unlike being on a small drifting sea vessel. Tuulikki’s pitch-gliding voice rocks back in forth between gentle waves of accordion, cello, harmonium, oud, clarinet, valve oscillators and whatever else they can muster up with a somber tone or a buzzing output. This meditative drone created with mostly acoustic instrumentation is what immediately sends the mind to Eastern Asian associations. And when Tuulikki’s voice is matched with a recorder, flute, violin or other instrumentation of similarly high pitch, the influence of Japanese Gagaku becomes most apparent. It’s a simultaneously odd and elegant sound that will more or less dissuade most Western listeners on first listen, but given time, the harmonic interplay becomes very inviting.

“Young Light” is the best example of this Japanese-tinged experimentation. Hladowski improvises patiently with his bouzouki as Tuulikki jaggedly strums the metallic strings of a kantele. Interjection of cello further deepens the loose string arrangement as the song morphs from a Lichens-like meditation to an almost agitated display of exotic free jazz, but always grounded in Eastern tones. “Secret of the Seven Sirens” though couldn’t sound further away geographically. Between the group vocal sing-alongs, violin and flute interplay, loosely strummed acoustic strings, and eventual handclap enhanced pace, it sounds decisively European. The most accessible of the tracks, “Alice’s Ladder” also exists in this vein, just in more of a compact and focused presentation. Names like Joanna Newsom and Fursaxa come to mind, but neither really captures Nalle’s implacable exoticness.

When I first listened to The Siren’s Wave, I wasn’t particularly impressed. Locust is renown for their keen avant-folk ear, and Nalle’s sound just wasn’t that unexpected. But really, it just took the right circumstances for the nuances and idiosyncrasies of the album to make sense. They are weaving such distant cultures and so many different exotic instruments together that a cursory listen will only leave a confused stare on your face. Consider it a lesson in patience, though our contemporary listening habits will make Nalle’s work an uphill battle. And if you still can’t quite get a grasp on the record, let me suggest cold medicine and samurai movies, it worked for me.

Radio Show Playlist: 3/19/08



6a:
1. Magnetic Fields - I Don't - 69 Love Songs, Part 1 (Merge 1999)
2. Beach House - Gila - Devotion (Carpark 2008)
3. Via Tania - True - True EP (Chocolate Industries 2004)
4. Arthur Russell - Hiding Your Present from You - Springfield (Audika 2006, recorded 1985)
5. Atlas Sound - Quarantined - Let the Blind Lead Those Who See but Cannot Feel (Kranky 2008)
6. Excepter - The Last Dance - Debt Dept. (Paw Tracks 2008)
7. Drekka - There is a Mountain - Extractioning (Blue Sanct 2005, recorded 1998)
8. Nalle - Alice's Ladder - The Siren's Wave (Locust 2008)
9. Scott Tuma - Fishen - Not for Nobody (Digitalis 2008)
10. Collections of Colonies of Bees - Flock I - Birds (Radium 2008)
11. Earth - Engine of Ruin - The Bee Made Honey in the Lion's Skull (Southern Lord 2008)

7a:
1. Ulaan Khol - Untitled #3 - I (Soft Abuse 2008)
2. Zelienople - Parts are Lost - His/Hers (Type 2007)
3. Sun Ra - Search Light Blues - Bad and Beautiful (Saturn 1961)
4. Alice Coltrane - A Love Supreme - World Galaxy (Impulse! 1971)
5. Bobby Hutcherson - Bouquet - Happenings (Blue Note 1966)
6. Colorlist - Lluvia - Lists (Off 2008)
7. Moondog - Symphonique #6 (Good for Goodie) - Moondog (Columbia 1969)

8a:
1. Boards of Canada - 1969 - Geogaddi (WARP 2002)
2. Nobody - Wake Up and Smell the Millennium - And Everything Else... (Plug Research 2005)
3. Deceptikon - The Last Four Things - Lost Subject (Merck 2004)
4. Low - Belarus - Drums and Guns (Sub Pop 2007)
5. Thom Yorke - Atoms for Peace - The Eraser (XL 2006)
6. Broadcast - Subject to the Ladder - Tender Buttons (WARP 2005)
7. Stereolab - Brakhage - Dots & Loops (Elektra 1997)
8. Subtle - F.K.O. (Console Remix) - Wishingbone (Lex 2006)
9. Karl Blau - Spring Morning - AM (Whistler 2008)
10. Destroyer - Dark Leaves from a Thread - Trouble in Dreams (Merge 2008)
11. Akron/Family - Running, Returning - Akron/Family (Young God 2005)
12. Thee Oh Sees - Grease 2 - The Master's Bedroom is Worth Spending a Night In (Tomlab 2008)
13. The Big Sleep - Tigers in Our Hearts - Sleep Forever (Frenchkiss 2008)

3.18.2008

Snöleoparden - "Snöleoparden"



Snöleoparden - Lille Cykel (Rump 2008)

Snöleoparden - Snöleoparden / Rump

For the longest time I was trying to figure out why Mofus and Badun member Jonas Stampe's latest musical excursion under the Snöleoparden alias sounded so familiar. It was not that I had heard Snöleoparden before; quite the contrary, in fact. The Danish resident, complete with a politically charged Pakistani background, had made his way onto my radar via Sonic Frontiers, who have recently been making their way onto my radar for more off-the-radar things recently. It was the sounds, the playful nature of this release, reminded me of something I had heard before. I could not put my finger on it.

So I listened and read and discovered. Rump is inclined to provide glitchy releases from people like Karsten Plfum and Icarus, but Snöleoparden is more of an organic experience that you discover right away when the first sounds of his self-titled debut are that of a xylophone. Gradually, "Nr. 1." turns into a happy accident that would fit right in with Black Dice's brighter moments in its wordless warping of the initial melody. It's hard to escape the xylophones. They are the dominant instrument on this album.

"Hodja Fra Pjort" features children singing along to a strummed guitar and, once again, the xylophones. As a rendition of a kid's pop song, Stampe injects a starry-eyed innocence that puts the listener at ease. This whole record is innocence. I don't know why I'm saying the same things over and over, except to say that I have been reduced to a child merely by listening to the Pakistani folk song "Dreng." I feel like I'm 11 years old listening to Afrobeat or something. It's hard to believe it took a Dane to bring me there. Then she told me.

"This sounds like a Wes Anderson soundtrack."

Of course it does. This perspective - that every sound has the capability to make us wonder and awe and think about what we're hearing - has been the common thread in each of Anderson's movies. It's been a recurring criticism that he has never been able to escape that perspective, and perhaps that's where Rumpe finds himself here. But this is only his first album. This isn't a rut he's dug himself into. This is not yet his voice, because we don't know what his voice is. What we do know is that childhood is less removed from his memory than it may be ours, because Rumpe remembers. He remembers the sights, the sounds, the feelings, the mentality.

To this end, there are the obvious mini-triumphs in the smiling xylophones of the first three tracks. But there is also "Grieg," which appears on the CD version as the finale but not the LP version for some reason. This has been identified by some reviewers as the saving grace of an album that they largely feel they "get" but do not really relate to. "Grieg" represents something close to what they're familiar with: adult anxieties. But I see "Grieg" as an extension of the childhood that Rumpe lives for the first eight songs. Switching from reel-to-reel recorders to live sets to homemade excerpts preserves a youthful inability to want to know everything all the time. It can't focus because we couldn't, either.

Ultimately, Snöleoparden is a meditation (or maybe just a rumination) on what it means to be a kid discovering new noise. At times slow to evolve and at others too quick to keep up with, the album is as artfully skilled in jumping from style to style as the snow leopard is in jumping from cliff to cliff. I don't know what else to say. My kindergarten self has emerged and is taking over my brain. This is the new beat. That's all I can say in big, goofy letters on paper with the trace down the middle so you can loop your lowercase Bs to meet the line, dot your I above it, red ink at the base, blue to stop the stick, what is going on here, there are only six fonts available? Macintosh? One-button mouse. Square screens. A new decade. Welcome.

3.17.2008

The Rational Academy - "A Heart Against Your Own"



The Rational Academy - Jojoplanteen (Someone Good 2008)

The Rational Academy - A Heart Against Your Own / Someone Good

A Heart Against Your Own is an excellent soundtrack to the let-down that the actual St. Patrick's Day holiday presented in the wake of the weekend, which claimed its fair share of victims and killed the spirit of even the most hearty drinkers as Monday rolled around. Instead of a review for the latest from Triclops!, it thus comes as no surprise that The Rational Academy captures this post-inebriated haze perfectly instead.

Such a pleasant and quietly content record should not be as interesting as this one is, but the 'Academy's songwriting duo in Meredith McHugh and Benjamin Thompson laid the groundwork for Room40 mastermind Lawrence English and Icelandic dronesmith Ben Frost (whom we love here at Audiversity but somehow never covered for last year's Theory of Machines) to come in and add that extra twist which now separates this Brisbane quartet from so many other indie-rock bands in pursuit of the dream of recreating 1997. The delicate art of putting the vocals just a pinch higher in the mix than they should be, coupled with tasteful effects and a noteworthy cut in the Jets to Brazil (Or Mineral? Or any genuinely good indie-rock band?) anthem you never thought you'd hear in "Two Books," means that A Heart Against Your Own is the real deal, no fanfare need apply.

It's not all rose-tinted retro revivalism from the starry-eyed 90s, though. After releasing two 7" singles and appearing on a number of compilations, they've clearly learned that what works for them isn't always the most straightforward sound. Thankfully, there is also a futurism suggested in the quiet drum machine loop hiding in the shadows of "Jojoplanteen," and in the misty air surrounding "Squid & Whale" as the ambient textures take precedent and a quiet holding pattern sustains itself longer than you'd expect, before the crunchy guitars reminiscent of Desert Hearts swoop in and then swoop you out with them as an F5 tornado takes you away to a place where acoustic strumming and McHugh's lilting lullabies carry the last minute or so. It's the epic stroke you never knew you were waiting for, but this band is all about eschewing the conventions of being a regular old indie band. In fact, the best way to describe The Rational Academy is by saying that this is a bedroom romantic's My Bloody Valentine. Bedroomantica, that's what The Rational Academy is. They know what they're doing.

That may seem like a beaten horse at this point, but it's what makes The Rational Academy so interesting. It's what drew disparate acts like Deerhoof, Xiu Xiu, Spoon, and Scout Niblet to call them up for an opening slot down under. It's what led Rave Magazine to describe this as "an essential Brisbane release." Hell, it's what drew me to this record just when I thought I didn't want to hear it. Forget Out of Africa for the time being. A Heart Against Your Own, in its own cutely confident way, is exactly the kind of album you thought you'd stopped listening to because you were sure you'd outgrown this stuff. The Rational Academy are a smarter band, and they know what you're thinking. For once, not being jaded about a record that sounds like this will be well worth your while. You will hardly believe you've had it on repeat for three hours, and that you're having to use the excuse of second-person point of view to hide your subjectivity. Get a grip, man. You're not that big of a deal.