- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Having sat on these tapes for far too long, I felt that it was a good time to revisit them in light of Stelzer's newest works (reviewed here) to more fully recognize this legendary artist’s work. Dawn Songs is a pleasantly succinct piece of music that covers a nice gamut of sounds while Normal Bias is a sprawling, magnificent set of six tapes that feels like an "everything plus the kitchen sink" type release where everything just happens to be golden and indispensable.
Dawn Songs is two side-long untitled pieces that are joined by the theme outlined in the title:All source materials were recorded between the hours of 4 and 6AM around Stelzer’s Lowell, Massachusetts home.A variety of tape treatments, field recordings, and ambient replications of sound were used.The first part is at first a thin wall of sustained noise that eventually builds in complexity, but stays consistent in volume, like the sound of silence pushed to the highest possible levels.This sound of pre-morning stillness is presented to the nth degree, eventually resembling jet engines and subsonic rumblings.Throughout Stelzer mixes things up from emphasizing the highest frequency sounds to the lowest, keeping an intense dynamic until ending on an open, spacious note.
On the other side, the mix has more breathing room that allows the lighter sounds to rise to the surface.Untreated field recordings of early morning bird songs shine through the simplified layers of sound and subtle environmental hiss.Eventually Stelzer shapes everything into a captivating series of noise waves that stretch out and then are peeled back, allowing bits and pieces to remain and allowing the focus to drift to the smaller, less demanding sounds.Eventually, like the previous half, the sound drifts away in the morning sunshine.
samples:
 
Normal Bias is less of a conceptually structured work, and that is by no means a detriment.At 18 copies, it is the largest release to date on Blake Edwards' (Vertonen) Ballast imprint, which I highly recommend as a whole for a multitude of handmade, conceptually brilliant releases.At six tapes, it covers that wide range of Stelzer's work, as well as some roads less traveled, and every moment of it is amazing.
Stelzer's early roots in the harsh noise underground are nicely represented throughout, most notably on "Basalt #1" (with Todd Bowser contributing bass guitar).A wall of noise is sustained throughout; some heavy low scrapes as well, which begins more aggressive than it ends.This unrelenting wall of noise never relents though, and the piece ends on what sounds like a poor bootleg of a rock show played too loudly by next door neighbors and a blasting fire alarm.The rough hewn edges of "Schist" hearken back to his oldest works, with a bit of that frigid, frozen sound akin to the golden age of Japanese noise artists (most notably the Incapacitants and Hijokaidan), with a bit of electronic drone deeply submerged in the mix.
Other tapes in this set are more focused on his penchant for complex tape edit collages."Detriment" is a mass of machine gun like sputters, brittle noises, and whirring helicopter blades that manages to sound both heavily composed and completely random, a juxtaposition that works perfectly."Basalt #2" is another chaotic mix of buzzing insects, random recorded voices giving announcements, field recordings and even some car horns in the distance."Night Light" (recorded live in Boston) captures the pre-show ambience of incidental sounds, strings, and conversations before launching right into Stelzer’s performance.Slowed, murky tape mutations, jerky cut and paste edits and uncomfortably lugubrious recordings all come together beautifully.
At other times on Normal Bias, Stelzer is even more adventurous than usual, which is saying a lot.A multitude of noises opens "Someday/It is Useful", and even a bit of what sounds like field recordings of Mr. Stelzer's classroom (his day job is being a fifth grade teacher) blended with guitar strums.Soon the piece transitions into a flowing mass of slowed down percussive rumbles, giving more of a rhythmic sense to the piece, but as a whole it is diverse and dynamic.There is a bleak murk throughout "Falling Action" that, with the added grinding and whooshing white noise layers, takes on a vintage industrial sheen that nicely complements his analog sensibility.
The contrast between the more succinct and conceptually focused Dawn Songs and the sprawling, gargantuan nature of Normal Bias is one that really does show the breadth and depth of Howard Stelzer's ever growing body of work.The former feels more structured and composed, while the latter is all over the place and adventurous, but without any missteps at all.While they may be a bit dated at this point, I highly recommend searching both out, as they are amazing and brilliant documents of the creative potential of one man and his many tape recorders.
samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
In his two most recent works, Howard Stelzer branches out to less aggressive, more subdued sounds, while still heavily staying faithful to his core roots as a noisy manipulator of all things cassette. His work with long-time friend and long-time collaborator Brendan Murray shows a wide variety of approaches and styles, while A Strange Object is largely him at his most focused and meditative. The two tapes may seem vastly different at times, but make for excellent complements to one another.
The Helen Scarsdale Agency/No Rent Records
The feel of Connector is established immediately on "one".Murray’s field recordings construct a vast space in which Stelzer introduces the textures of his mangled cassette tapes, coming together at what feels like familiar field recordings with unexpected abrasive outbursts.The two trade off being on center stage, from recordings of cars passing by into heavily panned and wobbling tape detritus, culminating in a nice, brittle sheen.For "two", the humming rumble of an engine is at first the primary element, with the occasionally abrupt pop or click and far off noise added to give a bit of color.Eventually there is an abrupt halt that then introduces a lengthy synth like pulse for the remainder of the piece, making for a unique conclusion.
On the flip side, "three" is at first an immense, pseudo-orchestral shimmer full of heavy, droning organ-like passages that expand outward.It is a rich and complex mélange of sound, and one that is rather dissonant and eventually shifts into some even harsher, grinding passages of noise that teeter on uncomfortable before concluding on a decaying, decrepit note.For most of the concluding "four" things are calm:a machinery hum, some warm organic processing and effects and some subtle, quiet interruptive sounds throughout the mix.Eventually though the mix becomes more tight and shrill, with the abrasive conclusion tying things together quite nicely.
samples:
 
Stelzer's latest solo work, like Dawn Songs, is a kinder, gentler bit of sound in comparison.He himself has said on record that these are pieces intended to reflect smaller, intimate settings, and that is completely evident.There are a plethora of small, light noises within the rhythmic electronic pulses of "A Strange Object Covered in Fur Which Breaks Your Heart" that is wonderfully varied, but also muted and warm.He also constructs a sparse, minimalistic space for "The Historical Aspects Have Been Adequately Trodden by Others", grounded by some sort of distant hum, but everything kept very soft and quiet.If Stelzer was to ever do an unplugged release, this is probably what it would sound like.
"Dressed in Heavenly Blue" is short, but perhaps a bit more boisterous within the context of this tape.A pleasant pairing of brittle static and shimmering drone, it is not as drastically removed from his noisier works, but presented in a quieter, intimate sort of scenario.The second half of the tape is taken up by "And Joy", a complex tapestry of various hums and buzzes filtered in various ways that give them an excellent sense of depth, but in a more airy, open framework.Distortion and noise of course appear, but kept restrained to make for added color and texture, without ever dominating too much.
For these two releases, both sides of Howard Stelzer’s sonic personality come through greatly:the forceful and heavy noise on Connector (not to at all discount Brendan Murray's contributions, which add significantly to the tape), and his more peaceful, meditative tendencies on A Strange Object.The former is a complex mass of sound that is equally Murray’s hand that, at times is challenging and unpleasant fascinating from start to finish. The latter, however, excels in its intimacy.In some ways I could not help but be reminded of a more analog take on the work of Richard Chartier, an associate of Stelzer’s from the earliest days of his Intransitive label.Taken together, both are essential works in his (thankfully) every growing and varied discography.
samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Following the Idle Chatter's label curated tape set Transparens by Wren Turco, the label has released another, similar project, this time by Drekka's Mkl Anderson. Again consisting of three artists, each contributing their own tape (Drekka, Pillars and Tongues, and Skrei), there are a multitude of different experimental sounds and approaches here, blending traditional with electronic instrumentation on this trinity of albums. Like the label’s previous collection, each artist’s work differs greatly from one another others, but the big picture is a series of works that complement one another splendidly.
Drekka's tape (credited to the nine person Drekka Ensemble, conducted by Anderson) consists of material initally recorded between 2000 and 2002, but reworked last year.The two part piece differs significantly between the two halves.The first part of "Songs of Reunion" is an immediate burst of metallic clatter and bowed strings, heavily shrill and abrasive.The piece quickly builds to a dull roar, sounding like a gamelan ensemble full of unconventional instruments that eventually relents, allowing the bowed strings to take center stage, paired with some delicate chimes.As it goes on, layers are reversed and the whole thing takes on a weird, hallucinatory feeling before concluding with the denseness it opened on.
On the other half of the piece, treated (but still obvious) guitar becomes the focus as a multitude of effected, non-specific noises drift in and out.As the piece goes on, more painful and harsh tones and sounds are brought into the piece.While it begins somewhat pleasant, the mood shifts as time goes on and eventually becomes dense and full of abrasive sounds, piled upon each other until eventually drifting away with a surprising lightness, with a palindrome-like structure as the piece that preceded it.
Pillars and Tongues contribution is comparably a much more restrained affair."You/Attempted" begins with a rather inviting ambient space, intentionally sparse and muted.The level of subtlety makes it stand out more, especially following the Drekka tape.On "Painting Dust" the stripped-down mix is eventually filled with a gentle crackle, some sustained tones, and even a bit of piano.The second half of the tape, "Counted Utterance, Meaning Countenanced", features a nice, understated bed of gliding tones and piano, but eventually the focus shifts to some conventional singing.Towards the end what sounds like railroad bells herald the conclusion, but before then a large number of false stops where the piece fades away only to come back again and again.
The ambiguous Berlin based Skrei rounds out the three tapes with an untitled piece spread across both sides of the cassette. Compared to the other two artists, this work is more synth-heavy in nature.The first half begins with a droning, prickly bass synth and echoing dialog samples.Layers are piled on: pitch bent voices, bleak electronics, and the occasional noisy stab of electronics.Wet electronics mesh with abrasive static scrapes into a wall of heavily reverberated noise.The second half begins with crunching static and almost string-like low frequency swells.Things congeal into the dull roar of a HNW piece before quickly fading away to a hollow vastness.Rushing white noise and a factory-like ambience come back, eventually balanced out by a natural sounding guitar and some more gentle tones.The piece reaches a conclusion via shrill squeals and harsh feedback, however, ending on a high (and harsh) note.
The three tapes that make up Held There, Beside the Signified all differ from one another:Drekka's excursion is more of an organic discord, Skrei's is more synthetic and inhuman, and the Pillars and Tongues work sits right in the middle is a pleasant, more ambient work that bridges the two extremes.Mkl Anderson has done an excellent job at curating this work with friends and associates, resulting in a compilation that is just as strong together as it is taken individually.
samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Ohio legend Mike Shiflet has unquestionably had a lengthy and fascinating career as an experimental guitarist and electronics specialist with a multitude of diverse, exceptional releases since the early part of the century. This year, however, he has embarked on his most ambitious project to date. The Tetracosa series is an eight part, 24-hour-long project being released monthly in three hour segments, with the first four currently available. While it seems at first a daunting project, it is anything but, and so far it is an exceptional piece of work that is engaging on a multitude of levels.
Besides the long-form concept behind Tetracosa, Shiflet applies some specific tactics to the structuring of these pieces.The entire series is constructed from some 350 different "sound objects," recorded entirely independent from one another, that act as the building blocks of the compositions.Shiflet then pieced them together with the assistance of random number generation, resulting in these expansive walls of sound that seem both the product of chance, but also an overarching sense of structure and cohesion that clearly comes through.
Because of the width and breadth of these pieces, Shiflet clearly put in significant effort to generate the sounds that make up these pieces and in doing so draws from every facet of his diverse repertoire.Right from the opening moments of Volume One's "00:00:00.00" (all pieces are just titled as time codes), a shimmering guitar drone clearly bears his mark:a droning, sustained passage that is undeniably the work of Mike Shiflet.This first volume is a bit more guitar-centric, appearing in echoing walls throughout the beginning of "00:24:06.00" and a bit more devoid of processing and effects on "00:46:09.04."The final parts of Volume Two's "05:45:40.18" also feature him wielding the instrument, in this case in the form of a nicely distorted buzz.With his pairing of texture and guitar, I could not help but be reminded of some of Robert Hampson's best work, both solo and in Main.
Various electronics are another recurring theme throughout this first half of the Tetracosa project.Within Volume Three and Four it is especially prominent, such as the deep resonating drone that opens "06:23:23.96," which is more of an exercise in restraint, ending on an almost conventionally sounding synth passage.This transitions brilliantly into "06:44:13.33," although with the added chaos of feedback and guitar.Eventually though the melodic electronics take the forefront, underscoring everything as the surrounding sounds become more and more disjointed, making for an amazingly diverse sounding piece.In a less pleasant manner, the electronics (and maybe field recordings) throughout "09:12:52.21" on Volume Four are more distorted overall, taking the form of sputtering crackle and buzz, and eventually a hollow machinery hum that gives some classically industrial vibes to the sound.
It also would not be a Mike Shiflet work if he did not integrate some more traditional, old school noise elements into his work, and those appear weaved in brilliantly throughout these first four volumes.The peaceful electronics that appear early in "00:24:06.00" eventually give way to a high-pitched cacophony of scrapes and pings that is not far removed from the din of a pachinko hall.Later, the second half of "04:01:29.95" from Volume Two is a dusty mass of brittle, crackling electronics that reside clearly in the shrill end of the sonic spectrum.The digitally crushed sound and clatter of "06:12:04.28," on Volume Three, at first becomes a nice blend of noise and tone, but soon decays into the sharp crackling of an old school overdriven noise wall.
Twelve hours of often abstract, sometimes painful sound may sound imposing superficially, but that ends not up not at all being the case.Mike Shiflet's approach to structuring this work really adds a lot of depth and variation. Sure, it can be heard in the three hour blocks it is being released in, and that approach really showcases his use of recurring themes and sounds that are peppered throughout each volume.But each piece can also be enjoyed individually in their roughly eight to twenty minute durations.Even in such a massive, complexly structured work such as this, each segment stands on its own as an individual composition as well.Nothing feels like filler or an incidental, transitory piece that simply bridges two other pieces of music.I imagine experiencing the full work once all eight parts are released also gives a further defining facet to Tetracosa, though I think that experience will take some specific scheduling and planning to fully appreciate.
samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Liz Harris's Grouper project has taken on quite an unusual and fascinating trajectory over the last several years, transforming into something that feels like a slowly unfolding series of poetic postcards from a ghost. Grid of Points, the most recent window into Harris's soul, continues to further distill the stark and tender fragility of 2014's Ruins, unfolding as a 22-minute suite of gorgeously ephemeral piano sketches that blur together to weave a hypnotic spell. I suppose the word "sketches" conveys a somewhat unfinished aesthetic, which is not far from the mark, as these sessions were unexpectedly curtailed by a bout with high fever. In a deeper sense, however, that fever was providential, as these pieces are perfect in their spectral elusiveness, evoking (as Harris herself puts it) "the space left after matter has departed, a stage after the characters have gone."
Notably, these seven pieces were recorded several years ago during a brief 2014 residency in Ucross, Wyoming.Grid's predecessor, Ruins, was also recorded during a residency (that time in Portugal, back in 2011).That approach of short bursts of intense creativity followed by years of reflection is quite an unusual creative process, as a willingness to slow down and thoughtfully craft something as quietly devastating as Grid of Points is quite rare.I would be curious to know how much material Harris discarded from these sessions, as these pieces feel like they have been tenderly reduced to their absolute essence, leaving only the most soulful and heavenly residue behind.Occasionally, that tendency can admittedly be a bit exasperating, as the lovely and hymn-like opener "The Races" does not even stretch to a full minute.The delicious flipside of that, however, is that Harris occasionally floors me with something like the achingly gorgeous and utterly sublime "Parking Lot."Structurally, "Parking Lot" isvery much representative of Harris's vision for the entire album, as the remaining five pieces are all variations of elegantly simple piano melodies married to languorous and lush vocal harmonies.The only real difference between "Parking Lot" and the rest of the album is that its vaporously beautiful vocal melody is an especially stunning one.The halting and slowly cascading melody of the following "Driving" is yet another highlight, but it is definitely "Parking Lot" that steals the show.I cannot think of many other pieces that are so deeply soulful, emotionally direct, and elegantly simple.Harris has come quite a long way from her murkily reverb-swathed early days (though they were great too).
After that impressive run of opening pieces, Grid''s simple and understated approach starts to blur into something a bit more amorphous and dreamlike.There are still actual songs, but the melodies are not as prominent or memorable.That said, it does not feel like Grid is front-loaded with its best work so much as it feels like the album is slowly dissolving and dissipating into a pleasantly hallucinatory fog of rippling arpeggios and blearily floating vocals.Intriguingly, that steady descent into soft-focus languor sets the stage for the unexpectedly sensual and experimental final piece "Breathing."Initially, "Breathing" recaptures some of the swooning and lyrical melodicism of the album's opening pieces, almost resembling a seductive R&B ballad reduced to just breathy vocals with a skeletal, one-finger piano accompaniment.It is definitely a great song while it lasts, yet it unexpectedly gets swept away by a surprisingly loud field recording of a train after about two minutes.That move is an impressively perfect and inventive way to end such a delicately dreamlike and quiet album, cathartically rumbling through the fragile idyll and leaving only the slow fade of its chugging engine behind.It is both climactic and deliciously ambiguous, simultaneously evoking a wistful longing for faraway places while also feeling like the inevitable intrusion from the outside world that erases all traces of Harris's quiet, fragile, and soul-baring reverie.I especially love that the train's lingering wake is given just as much time and importance as the song itself, blurring the line between art and life and giving the album a very real sense of place (it was recorded on cattle ranch in Wyoming, after all).
If this were a normal album by a normal artist, I would probably be a bit disappointed that Grid of Points is incredibly short for a full-length and only contains a few memorable pieces, yet it feels weirdly perfect for a Grouper album: this is not so much a batch of songs as it is a lovely oasis of simplicity, depth, and sincerity undiluted by any clutter or conspicuous artifice.This is a very direct and vulnerable album quite unlike anything else that is being released these days.While Grid is probably too brief to be a legitimate contender for the best Grouper album, "Parking Lot" is certainly one of the most rapturously beautiful pieces that Harris has ever recorded and the album as a whole is unquestionably another significant leap forward in Harris's evolution as an artist.With her palette reduced to simply her voice and a piano, she has taken her work in a transcendently timeless and pure direction, straining to eliminate anything and everything that dilutes or distracts from an intense and direct emotional connection–all that might ring false or inessential has been burned away, making Grid's extreme brevity a strength.Grid of Points is very much the result of a lengthy and thoughtful distillation process rather than a dearth of new material.Naturally, that internal struggle to make something truly deep and meaningful has slowed Harris's output considerably in recent years, yet the results are certainly worth it: the rare moments when everything falls into place just right are truly special and damn near ecstatic.Grouper is like a once-mighty spring that has gradually slowed to a quiet trickle, yet magically spits out a diamond every now and then.With her last few albums, Harris has gone far beyond being a good songwriter with a distinctive aesthetic, blossoming into something of a visionary, using the most basic and unadorned palette to transform pop-like song structures into deceptively radical and moving art.
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Shane Broderick's (Corephallism, Twodeadsluts Onegoodfuck) latest project in some ways strays away from the ethos of his other projects, but not so far as to be unrecognizable. Namely, Soaplands showcases more of his interest in modular synthesis and electronics. This self-titled EP has a nuanced and dynamic sound, but one in which he cannot help but burst out into some of his more noisy tendencies, resulting in an all-too-short burst of electronics, distortion, and even a fair bit of good old fashion screaming.
Across these four songs Broderick does a bit of everything from his distinctive style of electronic music.The pulsating synthesizer that opens "The Birds Above Methadone Mile" is almost disturbingly pleasant, at times drifting precariously close to new age, but overall stays more on the nice ambient side of the equation.That, of course, does not last and a jarring noise outburst pops up rather quickly, then transitioning the piece to end on field recordings. Things are intentionally stripped back a bit on the sub-two minute "Serotonin Jacuzzi Lust" and instead of lush electronics it is just a short, noisy outburst of aggression grounded by droning electronics.
For "Techniques of Religious Ecstasy," Broderick again navigates between sonic extremes.The opening heartbeat-like pulse and processed samples are pleasant enough, but the droning, menacing tone that he includes rather quickly darkens things up nicely, but the vocal outburst blows it all away.Within that short span things transition from standard electronics to bleak drone and into full on power electronics assault.The concluding "Godmode:Potential Immortality-Pure Pleasure" clocks in at eight minutes making it roughly the duration of the three preceding pieces combined. Broderick maintains more restraint here and instead of going as heavy on the noise hebuilds the electronics up.The opening lush electronics and drone set the groundwork for some very 1980s sounding synth stabs to cut through, with subtle layers of electronics placed together, building in intensity.Eventually stuttering electronics and some thick, heavy washes of noise pile on, but the overall feeling is less harsh in the grand scheme of things.
Besides the diverse array of sound Shane Broderick brings to this debut Soaplands EP, his use of dynamics on the recording itself are also worthy of note.The quiet moments are appropriately hushed, but the harsh outbursts are jarring and abrasive, which is exactly what I want to hear on a tape such as this.The only major issue is the short duration, but this tape heralds more great things to come I would imagine.Also props for the artwork by manga artist Shintaro Kago, whose sexualized, surrealist imagery is a perfect complement to the sound and aesthetic that Broderick is cultivating on this cassette.
samples:
- The Birds Above Methadone Mile
- Techniques of Religious Ecstasy
- Godmode: Potential Immortality-Pure Pleasure
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
I was completely blindsided by this second release from unlikely collaborators Machinefabriek and Dead Neanderthals, as Smelter transcends the sum of its parts in absolutely crushing fashion. Anyone familiar with Dead Neanderthals' explosive blend of extreme metal and free jazz will be unsurprised by the heaviness of this album, yet this is something new and different, taking Rutger Zuyderveldt's nuanced drone aesthetic and blowing it up into a scorched and seismic force of nature. While it admittedly derails into an occasional lull at times, such moments are short-lived and easily forgotten in the face of such a viscerally howling onslaught of blackened sludge. At its best, Smelter feels like being bulldozed by a glacier that was shaken loose by a torrent of smoking and bubbling lava.
The album opens in deceptively subdued fashion, as a lazily spacey one-finger synth melody erratically unfolds over a backdrop of eerily spectral whistling sounds and brooding dark ambient textures.It is not quite exactly what I would expect from a drone artist meeting an extreme metal duo, but it is certainly close (Dead Neanderthal have certainly been known to dabble in some deep space ambience in the past).I felt like I could l see where the things were headed, so I settled in for an entire album in that vein.Consequently, it felt like a goddamn building just dropped on my head when Smelter suddenly erupted into a dense and churning floe of blown-out synth buzz and impressively violent slow-motion drumming from René Aquarius.Obviously, Aquarius has proven himself to be quite adept at hyperkinetic freeform drumming pyrotechnics in the past, but his objective here seems to be trying to shatter his cymbals with the sheer brutality of his slow-motion doom attack.Initially, it feels like DNMF might ride that massive distorted drone into infinity (which would be just fine by me), but it soon opens up into a majestic vista of epic-sounding chord changes curdled by a gnarled morass of ugly harmonies.Later, some unexpectedly beautiful and nuanced shades of glimmering color creep into relentless death march of scorched sludge, but Smelter remains an unpredictable and relentlessly lurching monster of a piece, as the only thing that remains constant is the slow and merciless crunch of Aquarius's punishing drumming.
Of course, the problem with starting off a 40-minute piece in such gloriously massive and brutal fashion is trying to figure out where the piece can possibly go from there.That is where Smelter's brilliance starts to wear away a little: the first 15 minutes sound like a massive, burning oil tanker, so it is unavoidably anticlimactic when that section gives way to a hallucinatory interlude of Otto Kokke's blearily twisting synth burbles over a grinding and rumbling backdrop of murky drones.The piece soon roars back to life, but it now feels more like a composition than an apocalyptic natural event, as sustained synth chords give the piece the bombastic feel of symphonic black metal.To my ears, that seems like a bit of a misstep, yet DNMF compensate somewhat by escalating the gnarled and corroded horror erupting from the underlying drones.That is quite a cool trick, as it feels like Smelter is desperately trying to head in a more lumbering and predictable direction, yet is instead getting ripped apart from the inside.Entropy ultimately wins, thankfully, and the piece collapses into a smoldering wreckage of howling noise.DNMF have one final trick, however, so the scorched-earth wake of Smelter's metal phase slowly evolves into a haunting new soundscape built from scraping pulses of white noise and ghostly, floating dissonance.That too transforms, however, and the album ends with an unexpectedly sublime coda of spectral choral voices arising from a ravaged and broken miasma of throbbing synths and lingering wisps of grinding dissonance.
My sole critique of Smelter is that I am exasperated by how close it came to being one of the best albums of the year, as this trio achieved an absolutely transcendent degree of heaviness with their opening salvo.I definitely did not see this album coming, as I had never imagined that Machinefabriek could be so violent and explosive, nor did I expect Dead Neanderthals to take a break from their more kinetic and virtuosic tendencies to unleash a creeping and engulfing drone avalanche.While Smelter admittedly has some imperfections, it was clearly birthed from a period of white-hot inspiration, as it begins and ends brilliantly.At its best, Smelter is a legitimately apocalyptic piece of work, as well as a sublimely gorgeous one: DNMF are just as adept at straining towards heaven as they are at plunging deep into a hellscape of gnarled and corroded ruin.It is quite remarkable for an album to do both so beautifully and even more so when the transition between those two poles feels so organic and well-earned.Given that, I do not particularly mind the brief leaden lull in Smelter's mid-section, as it is a necessary part of a tour de force transformation from an ugly, shambling juggernaut of pure heaviness to an absolutely gorgeous and dreamlike soundscape.Both Dead Neanderthals and (especially) Rutger Zuyderveldt have quite overwhelmingly voluminous discographies, but I feel quite comfortable in stating that Smelter is one of the most singular and striking works that either have ever produced.This is a legitimately significant and awe-inspiring release.
Samples:
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
It has been roughly four years since Dunn last surfaced with his sprawling Kyle Bobby Dunn and the Infinite Sadness triple LP and he clearly spent some of that long hiatus reassessing and rebuilding his woozily dreamlike vision: "The Searchers" is likely the single most gorgeous and perfectly distilled piece that he has ever recorded. The unenviable task of trying to follow such a bombshell fell to hapless fellow ambient-minded guitarist Wayne Robert Thomas, who understandably gets eclipsed a bit. Thomas's languorous "Voyevoda" has a quiet beauty of its own, however, making this release a fine introduction to his work. In fact, Thomas's piece would have been perfectly suited for a split release with Dunn at any point in history before now. On this release, however, it is relegated to dessert after the main course, as "The Searchers" is an instant classic.
It is always a rough day when I have to begin a review by outing myself as an uncultured simpleton, but I have never actually seen John Ford's The Searchers, generally hailed as one of the most enduring masterpieces of American cinema.Dunn, however, has seen it, as his piece draws its inspiration from the classic western, meditating on how "the imposing expansiveness of the American West worked upon the minds of its inhabitants who fought, lost and did terrible things to each other in their attempt to claim it."Certainly, the collision of John Wayne and sublime contemporary minimalism is an unexpected one, yet I can definitely see how a fairly deep thinker (particularly one of melancholy disposition) would be fascinated by the contrast between the vast, beautiful, and timeless landscapes and the petty, stupid, and cruel events that occurred (and occur) there on the human scale.While the concept is certainly heavy, "The Searchers" is a deceptively simple piece structurally, mingling gently quavering and lush drones with an endlessly repeating pulse of swooning, see-sawing swells.It is an achingly lovely piece from start to finish, as its dreamlike bliss is masterfully deepened and darkened by subtle textural and harmonic hints of anguish and sadness lurking in its depths.I suppose that buried undercurrent of deep existential pain is what makes this such an absolutely transcendent piece: anyone can make music that sounds pretty, but only great art can mingle the sublime with a profound sense of loss to yield something truly and lastingly rapturous.Dunn achieves that rarefied feat with "The Searchers."
Thomas’s "Voyevoda" is quite a radical departure from Dunn’s piece compositionally, as it unfolds as a gently billowing and shifting haze of warm tones rather than a trancelike repetition of structured loops.While there are occasionally some passing shadows of darker harmonies that appear in its depths, it is a far more pastoral and radiant affair than its processor.It does share a bit of its widescreen grandeur though, evoking the feel of lying on my back in a field, enjoying the shifting play of light as dense clouds slowly roll across the sky.As far as guitar-based ambient goes, Thomas is quite adept at his craft, achieving a calm, quite, and unhurried elegance reminiscent of Stars of the Lid.For my taste, however, "Voyevoda" is a bit too amorphous and edgeless to make a particularly deep impact, though it is not like Thomas took aim for my personal aesthetic sensibility and missed the mark.Rather, he skillfully realized his own vision of dreamlike suspension and tranquility with an enviable lightness of touch and impressive attention to small-scale dynamic shifts.By any measure, "Voyevoda" is a strong piece.
If there is any flaw with this split, it is only that there is a significant gulf in the emotional heft of the two pieces, even if they occupy roughly the same stylistic territory: it metaphorically feels like Dunn brought a goddamn tank to a gunfight."The Searchers" is truly an artistic breakthrough and culminating achievement for Dunn.With …and the Infinite Sadness, he presented a huge volume of similar-sounding material designed to weave an extended and immersive spell."The Searchers," on the other hand, is an achievement on an entirely different level, as Dunn has crafted a single motif powerful and absorbing enough to be extended into an infinite loop.If this is what happens when Dunn takes four years to release a new album, I am more than happy to wait.Embarrassingly effusive praise of "The Searchers" aside, it must be said that this split is also quite good as a whole, offering an excellent snapshot of the state of solo guitar composition in 2018 (the ambient drone-based variety, anyway): one piece that expertly captures the state of the genre coupled with another that ambitiously strives to transcend it.
 
 
Read More
It has been roughly four years since Dunn last surfaced with his sprawling Kyle Bobby Dunn and the Infinite Sadness triple LP and he clearly spent some of that long hiatus reassessing and rebuilding his woozily dreamlike vision: "The Searchers" is likely the single most gorgeous and perfectly distilled piece that he has ever recorded. The unenviable task of trying to follow such a bombshell fell to hapless fellow ambient-minded guitarist Wayne Robert Thomas, who understandably gets eclipsed a bit. Thomas's languorous "Voyevoda" has a quiet beauty of its own, however, making this release a fine introduction to his work. In fact, Thomas's piece would have been perfectly suited for a split release with Dunn at any point in history before now. On this release, however, it is relegated to dessert after the main course, as "The Searchers" is an instant classic.
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Originally released in Carpark back in 2006, Belong's debut album has quietly become a something of an enduring underground shoegaze classic. This latest reissue from Spectrum Spools was actually the first time I heard October Language though, which is somewhat remarkable given that I am a fan of Turk Dietrich's current work as Second Woman and I was already casually familiar with Belong from their more song-based follow-up on Kranky. October Language bears no significant resemblance to any of those other albums at all though, nor does it bear much resemblance to any other album in the shoegaze canon, as Dietrich and Mike Jones conjure up a gorgeous ocean of shimmering and roiling guitar noise that feels like it is emanating from a broken and possibly haunted radio. Obviously, the never-ending stream of "lost classics" being reissued on vinyl these days is a numbing minefield of dubious claims and underwhelming experiences, yet October Language is the real deal, fleetingly capturing a unique vision that is equal parts rapturous and enigmatically eerie.
I suspect a large part of the reason that this album feels like such a wonderful and ephemeral confluence of forces lies in its curious assemblage of participants.While Mike Jones' post-Belong activities are a mystery, it is certainly fascinating that Dietrich eventually left swirling, rhythmless seas of dreamy guitar noise far behind to focus on complex and incredibly precise percussion experiments.Equally noteworthy is the participation of Telefon Tel Aviv's Joshua Eustice, who contributed to some of the album's strongest pieces.One intriguing feature of October Language, however, is that is impossible to ever see where anyone's individual playing or personal aesthetic asserts itself, as all traces of melody or songcraft are deconstructed and dissolved into a churning and shimmering dreamscape.It is quite interesting to try to imagine how some of these pieces initially took shape and similarly diverting to guess at the influences that led Jones and Dietrich towards their radical transformations, as October Language is very much a studio creation (most of the heavy lifting definitely took place at the production stage).It is probably safe to say that the shadow of Fennesz looms over this album as a major inspiration though, as October Language hits a similar aesthetic of stuttering, distressed, and sun-dappled melodicism.I suppose that makes this album a necessary autumnal counterpoint to Endless Summer in some ways, but beneath all the warmth, billowing chords, and soft hiss runs a deep undercurrent of achingly beautiful sadness and ruin.Those darker, more enigmatic moments tend to be album's most haunting pieces, like the submerged, slow-motion warbling of "I'm Too Sleepy…Shall We Swim?" and the corroded and quivering rapture of "Who Told You This Room Exists?"It takes a light touch to get that balance just right and Jones and Dietrich seem to nail it whenever they try, which is a bit surprising given that the duo are also quite fond of howling, gnarled roars of guitar noise ("The Door Opens The Other Way").
The album’s centerpiece is unsurprisingly the title one though, as "October Language" beautifully expands the expected swirl of shimmering guitar noise with some lazily melodic slide guitar.Again, Jones and Dietrich employ a very light touch, as the poignant glissandi adds an additional layer of emotional depth without emerging far enough from the roiling, hissing drones to disrupt their fragile, dreamlike spell.While several of the aforementioned pieces also stand out as clear highlights, it bears mentioning that the rest of October Language is uniformly excellent, as the baseline vision of warmly beautiful shoegaze drones dynamically filtered through disruptive laptoppery is wonderful enough without any additional twists or layers (even if it is nice when they happen).The more distinctive pieces simply provide variety and stand as recognizable landmarks along a slow-moving and lysergic river of engulfing and richly textured drone heaven.In fact, Belong's knack for intriguing textures plays a crucial role in making October Language the uniquely compelling album that it is.Jones and Dietrich evoke an immersive and womblike environment of layered guitar bliss as well as anyone, but their work has a precariousness, unpredictability, mystery, and depth to it that takes it to a completely different level.While always quite lush and lovely, October Language is eternally on the verge of escalating to an overwhelming roar, plunging into a submerged echo of itself, or being torn apart by crackling and stuttering tears in its fabric.It walks the finest of lines, achieving a kind of frayed and flickering heaven that never quite teeters into chaos, nor does it ever cohere into an unthreatened idyll.It is beautiful like heartache is beautiful; a complicated swirl of dark and light emotions and memories far more intense and affecting than mere bliss.
Notably, the physical versions of October Language come with a download card for the three bonus tracks that comprised the extremely limited Tour EP, which was recorded in 2005.That is presumably a treat for Belong completists (if they exist), but that EP's primary appeal lies in how it contrasts with October Language (recorded in 2004), as it illustrates how delicately all of the various threads needed to balance to yield such a brilliant album.Aesthetically, the Tour EP replicates almost the same vision as October, yet it lacks all of the necessary bite and vibrancy that might have made it similarly striking.As such, it is pleasant but largely unmemorable.Part of me is inclined to attribute that to the fact that the Tour EP songs were probably rough cuts/sketches exclusively for fans, yet Belong never fully recaptured the singular alchemy of October Language ever again (though they released a few promising vinyl EPs in its wake).Obviously, plenty of people love the follow-up, 2011's Common Language, but that album genuinely sounds like the work of an entirely different band: October Language was a one-time event that no one has ever been able to replicate.In fact, it has been glibly described elsewhere as "Loveless sans the songs," which is certainly an apt description.It is not quite a perfect one though, so I will boldly attempt my own concise summation with "a lovelorn Christian Fennesz on vacation in Twin Peaks."I am not sure that fully conveys the essence of this release either, but the take-home message is clear: this is an exceptionally great album.I am ashamed that it needed to be released three times before I finally realized that.
 
Read More
- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Anne Guthrie's strange and beautiful Codiaeum Variegatum was one of 2014's most delightful surprises, but I was admittedly perplexed by the early samples that I heard from this follow-up. Brass Orchids is quite a radical departure from its predecessor, as the erstwhile French horn player has now plunged deeply into a hallucinatory miasma of collaged and murky field recordings. As such, Orchids is quite a challenging and abstract album, but its dense fog of unusual textures and found sounds occasionally coheres into something quite compelling and unique. Also, Guthrie definitely gets points for so boldly swimming against the tide of the experimental music zeitgeist, reminding me favorably of the golden age of the early '80s when serious Italian composers were making bizarre noise tapes.
Guthrie does not waste any time at all in plunging into the shadowy depths on Orchids, as the opening "Bellona" is quite an uncompromising and surreal swirl of disparate environments woven together to create a disorienting tableau.Initially, it sounds like someone is fiddling with the record button of an uncooperative tape player as they trudge through deep snow, but that scene is soon mingled with a deep, gurgling rumble that suggests that I am perversely also at the bottom of the sea.Some ghostly melodies also surface from time to time, though they prove to be too flickering and elusive to ever cohere into a structure.I would like to be able to say that it evokes the final fragmented dreams of a doomed scuba diver before he unexpectedly washes up in a quietly dripping grotto, but even that is too linear to describe the disorienting trajectory of the piece.That phantasmagoric and drifting web of field recordings is more or less the template for the entire album, but the beauty of Brass Orchids lies in how Guthrie's deep immersion into the impenetrable mists of the subconscious occasionally open up into an unexpected and emotionally affecting window of lucidity.In the regard, the center of the album is where Orchids starts to become something more fascinating and mysterious than mere experimentation.
In "Serious Water," for example, a warbling haze of strangled-sounding feedback drones blossoms out of the murk.It is quite a cool motif to begin with, yet it is further enhanced by some impressive textural sorcery, evoking the sensation of having an otherworldly vision of a submerged world while inside a burning building.And then, an Indian shopkeeper inexplicably interjects to extol the virtues of some random product, though his delightful appearance is similarly fleeting, as he is quickly replaced by a ravaged tape of tinkling jazz piano in a haze of queasily dissonant spectral harmonies."Red Wolf," on the other hand, sounds like an especially unsettling nightmare that takes place in an abandoned subway station, where impersonal recorded voices sporadically appear amidst a warped and rumbling chaos that sounds like reality itself is bending and dissolving around me.The album's centerpiece, however, is "Spider."The opening minutes resemble someone enthusiastically tap-dancing in an empty house as an electromagnetic storm rages around them.I am not sure it is accurate to say that things only get stranger from there, but Guthrie certainly unleashes a visceral, gnarled, and volcanic squall of howling noise, corroded machinery, shuddering electronic squelches, and cryptic snatches of dialogue.The final piece, "Glass," is the album’s only real nod to melodicism, as a melancholy French horn melody languorously snakes its way through a bleary soundscape of dissonantly shimmering glass drones.
I suppose it would be fair to say that Brass Orchids is not as strong or revelatory as Codiaeum Variegatum, but it would be more accurate to view that album as the gateway to Guthrie's unique vision and Orchids as a darker, more psychotropic trip deeper into that rabbit hole.I suspect the perfect Anne Guthrie album would probably lie somewhere between the her two Students of Decay albums, as Orchids could definitely benefit from a stronger melodic or harmonic component.It is a bold step forward in both in both experimentation and intimacy though, weaving complex and sharply realized acoustic environments around a kaleidoscopic trawl through Guthrie’s fractured memories.At its best ("Spider"), Brass Orchids evokes something that is part reality-shredding psychic earthquake and part séance and it is absolutely glorious.While the other four pieces only sporadically reach similar heights, this album is still quite a provocative, iconoclastic, and ambitious bit of sound art.
 
Read More
