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This CD release of Nurse With Wound's compilation track collection LP from 1989 will not come as a surprise to any of the insane fans, who, like me, have already tracked down this material long ago and are very familiar with it. However, it's always nice when these works are given the CD treatment—often it means improved sound and extra tracks. Well, I can't detect any difference in sound from the LP edition. As for extras, the one bonus track, "New Dress," is not really that special, having already been issued (and still readily available) on the United Dairies edition of 'Crumb Duck,' the Stereolab collaboration. It is an awesome track, however, one of Stapleton's better ambient works. The tracks on 'Automating Vol 2' run the gamut of Stapleton's various styles. The first track "The Strange Play of the Mouth" is a good example: It begins with a woman singing, her voice being distorted and phased into psychedelic oblivion. Then the track suddenly shifts into an industrial drill attack along the lines of 'Thunder Perfect Mind', then the voice returns and is placed into a sound patchwork featuring old records and wacky sound manipulations a la 'Sylvie and Babs.' All in the span of eight minutes. "Elderly Man River/Dance of Fools" is a Jacques Berrocal-style free-jazz improvisation, with one of the most absurd takes on the old standard "Old Man River" that you will ever hear. The absurdity quickly segues into an aggressive Whitehouse noise attack, then a chorus of girls saying some deeply weird things about a hobby horse. "Lonely Poisonous Mushroom" (a collaboration with Organum) and "Lea Tantaaria" (renamed as "Wolfi") are eerie, atmospheric sound collages, featuring bell tones, randomly plucked guitars and nonsense piano. "Human, Human, Human" is my favorite on the album, utilizing the mutated sounds of a typewriter behind a truly odd New Age cult indoctrination record. A male and female speaker read a text aloud that is so full of psychobabble, twisted logic, and space cadet reasoning, it puts Heaven's Gate propaganda to shame. Although it's far from a great Nurse With Wound album, the variety of music on this disc might be a pretty good place for NWW novices to get an idea of the breadth and scope of Stapleton's oevre.
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This is Jason Lescalleet's first full length release of studio produced material. I have known Jason's live tape-loopery for about four years and I deeply appreciate its visceral, human-organic quality and a gnarly expressiveness. With this background, 'Mattresslessness' came as a shock. The album opens with a sine tone composition in the Vainio/Ikeda style. I wonder why would this artist, whom I consider to have a truly rare and original talent, stoop to aping established artists? The next track seems to continue the pattern with a repetitive click pattern in the Nicolai style. The source of the third is harder to identify but it is also familiar: a noise collage, perhaps in the Lanz style? And so it goes on. I was, to say the least, bewildered and a somewhat concerned. However, after some head and chin scratching I put together a theory to answer this. With each piece being of a different character, the album covers a lot of space, touching on several well-established areas of endeavor in music, sound and noise. And these areas all have their well established masters. The European and Japanese masters, such as Lopez, Akita, Tietchens, Ikeda, Behrens, Nakajima et cetera, are able to turn out their quality set pieces with the apparent ease that Hayden did his symphonies, Mozart his concertos or Elton John his songs. All these masters were established as such through a combination of talent, PR, funding, and consistency; the aesthetic, political and financial aspects are all necessary; and it is fallacious to think that the former is sufficient. This CD sets out to challenge the essential authoritarianism inherent in this hierarchy. Jason, armed only with the aesthetic, moves into, by my count, nine different domains, turns the handle of the respective digital machine and shows us how the respective set pieces are constructed. He then proceeds to transcend each, exceeding the achievements of the masters, moving beyond the respective area's confines by adding acutely personal expression and original brilliance. The incendiary subtext is that the masters are false gods and the hierarchy itself is a false intellectual product of broken rationale. I'm not suggesting that Jason is challenging the validity or value of anyone's work; I don't think he is. I think he is taking aim at the authoritarian logic, so prevalent in Western culture, that bestows master status on a few and pretender status on the rest. Now then, with that theory of its intent in mind, how does the music sound? Actually it sounds wonderful. The sine tone piece descends into a gorgeous Eraserhead-sounding dreamscape, the metrical click patterns are transformed into scintillating diginoise only to emerge again fattened on a throbbing bed of bass, and the collage noise is run through the degenerative tape-loop process to make it good and sinister. My favorite piece, "Ineinandergreifen 08 Dezember 1912," has a melody that sounds like scraped or bowed metals on a 78 record that is then consumed by the tapes; degraded, subdued and eventually killed by an aging process to wrenching emotional effect. The whole album is immaculately turned out with excellent sound and tasteful packaging. Jason Lescalleet has exceeded himself. 'Mattresslessness' is a major achievement: brilliant music and a valid political message.
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It's been a long time since 'This Last Night In Sodom' and to be honest, who would have thought they will ever come back with a new album. Rumors floated around for years, Marc Almond even mentioned it in his autobiography from 1999, and it's great that the finished product has finally materialized. Of course Soft Cell (like their audience) aren't screaming teenage TOTP stars any more. They've both grown through their solo work, Dave Ball most remarkable with The Grid and as producer and Marc Almond as, well Marc Almond.
"Darker Times" is a great opener and the only song co-written with Ingo Vauk, who co-produced this album with Dave Ball. The Marc Almond themes of love, passion, desire, and desperation are present in songs as "Last Chance" (the 'sequel to "Say Hello Wave Goodbye"' as announced on tour), "Together Alone", "Desperate" and the incredibly catchy "All Out Of Love," where Almond steps outside of his his favorite terrain and ventures into the familiarity of a sleazy secret world.
There are reflections about the modern lifestyle, the media sickness and the emotional and moral bankrupt: cynically sharp on in the albums preceding single (and video) "Monoculture," intense and dramatical on "Caligula Syndrome," cabaret-like on "Le Grand Guignol," and on the poppy dance tune, "Sensation Nation." Another Almond trademark, the self-reflective introspection, takes the shape of a sing-a-long tune, "Whatever It Takes," the story of somebody's mid-life crisis and the album ends on an up-note with an appropriately titled outro, "On an Up."
The weakest point of the album is the cover version of "The Night," another Northern Soul classic like "What" or "Where Did Our Love Go?" Musically, it's actually quite nice but I whish they had gone for something more daring. Soft Cell are able to push pop boundaries much further (as they proved often enough), but have played it safe with this tune (which is most likely to become the next single). The same could be said of this album, but maybe those are the effects of a 'matured' sound and slick production. Since so much time has passed, it's probably impossible for them to have met all the expectations of their fans. What we are left with is a fine album, one of this year's highlights, full of bouncy electronic pop songs, matched with superb lyrics which are more enjoyable with each listen.
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This first full length release from Toronto-based multi-instrumentalist/producer Sandro Perri is a collection of two previously released 12" EPs (of very limited quantities) from his own Audi Sensa label with new interlacing compositions that sum up the title's concept. First off, an accompanying insert card in the Russian nesting doll-type of packaging provides textbook descriptions of four basic types breathing techniques (high, mid, low and complete) with there being a compositional collage to correspond and convey a sense of each one. The "breathing" tracks are generally comprised of subtle pulses, distant keyboard drones and washes of white noise with tremolo effects which could be heard as the equivalent of each individual style being translated by a high-end piece of music software. Previously released tracks such as "Acqua," "Rottura" and my personal fave "Riva" are somewhat more straight ahead in the style of a slightly funky deep house meets IDM, layered over what becomes the familiar elements throughout the course of listening. Perri handles the mixes of synths and samples with an exactness and still manages a nice, loose feel by adding some treated guitar and other stringed nuances to provide a more human quality. Spanning over forty-five minutes, the disc's eight tracks flow very agreeably, blending into each other so as not to leave you holding your breath.
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As part of Aaron Turner's (Isis, Greymachine, and Hydra Head Records) new Sige label, this split vinyl captures both the look and feel of classic noise LPs, right down to the hand-stamped labels and lo-fi inserts. The aesthetic carries over to the sound as well, with both artists contributing tracks that share a creepy, heavy sound that joins the best of metal and harsh noise.
Oakeater’s side, "Iron Road II" begins with a melodic hum that becomes more prominent as it goes on, with added strings and guitar notes.Eventually the guitar accompanies a piano, creating a somber sound that is buried in a hazy reverb.The melancholy sound is interrupted by slow scrapes of harsh noise, cutting through like a rusty knife to leave pure malevolence.The melodic sound dies out, leaving silence alternated with monstrous, guttural voices and scraped metals that sound like they’re coming from a dark sewer, before ending on pained voices and raw noise.
Mammifer's contribution on the flip side is comparably lighter, but only relative to Oakeater's track."Fake Witch" initially mixing wobbly, chiming guitar notes and careful feedback, the song quickly builds to a dense mix.With the increasingly noisy guitar taking on a psychedelic quality, I definitely felt a bit of Skullflower's presence.Lower, bassy roars show up to balance out the higher frequency guitars, and it becomes a battle between the lighter, open ambient tones and the guitar noise gutter.The fluctuation from light to dark and back again builds to cinematic intensity before everything pulls away, leaving an odd, but beautiful coda of piano, static, and guitar feedback.
The old school sensibilities that abound on this release gave me more than a twinge of nostalgia, bringing up high school memories of unpacking noise LPs ordered from Relapse Records, sometime with absolutely no knowledge of what they’d sound like other than recognizing the name or seeing cool cover art.Thankfully the sound on the vinyl emulates those occasional brilliant purchases that I still spin to this day, well over a decade later.
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Functioning quite well as a current statement of what the 12k label is focusing on artistically, this disc features five artists associated with the label performing live from a recent Japanese tour, and the results showcase the variety and nuance of this niche of electronic music.
The two performances that bookend this disc seem to have a sense of conceptual unity, following similar paths but really sounding nothing like each other.Minamo open not with minimalism, but a wide sonic palette, merging untreated acoustic guitar with subtle electronic loops that command attention, but not aggressively so.The piece unfolds slowly, merging expansive electronic tones with guitar strums and rhythmic loops, all of which becomes overshadowed by crashing metallic sounds, noisy static and feedback, ending the piece far more abrasive than it began.
The closing piece by label head Taylor Deupree feels similar in approach to Minamo’s performance, but rather than guitar or loops, there are layers of decaying textures and delicate, soft melodies that propel the piece, constantly putting layers of weathered sound above pure, light melodies, and the occasional, very subtle, rhythmic clicking.
Australian duo Solo Andata take an opposite mood in their performance, focusing on darker, heavy textures that reverberate over massive, looming aquatic swells of sound.It’s not like dark ambient or anything meant to instill fear, but has a murkier quality to the performance, especially compared to the bright and delicate music around them.
The joint performance of Sawako and Hofli exemplifies this fragile beauty:Sawako’s delicate singing and use of field recordings are mixed with acoustic guitar and restrained, shimmering sonic textures.The duo implement a variety of subtle electronics that keep the performance dynamic, ending with Sawako’s signature field recordings.
Moskitoo provide the most diverging offering here, initially mixing glitchy loops and 8 bit noise textures, occasionally throwing in what sounds like a yard sale procured cheap Casio keyboard.This mostly chaotic mix suddenly gains form, coming together in a rhythmic track that, with its voice fragments and unconventional tones, sounds like a pop song from another universe, following traditional conventions but turning them completely around.
The thematic unity of these performances can be heard easily:restrained use of electronics and the juxtaposition of delicate textures and acoustic instrumentation to develop an electronic based sound that eschews genre conventions for something unique, and brilliant.
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I never quite understood the popularity of Pocahaunted and I was pretty underwhelmed by the LA Vampires/Zola Jesus collaboration last year, so I figured it was pretty safe to conclude that Amanda Brown's artistry just wasn't for me.  However, a helpful acquaintance recently sent me a link to this very amusing and heavily stylized video and I now realize that I was far too premature in my dismissal. So Unreal twists pop music into something truly weird, wonderful, and unique during its strongest moments despite being somewhat inconsistent and a bit narrow.
Brown and her ingenious co-conspirator Sam Meringue (Matrix Metals) seem to have an intuitive understanding of some very important truths that many underground/experimental musicians tend to overlook.  For example, bleeps, bloops, burbles, squiggles, tape manipulations, and general mindfuckery are a hell of a lot more appealing when they are couched within a song that also offers a strong hook or a cool groove.  Also, innovative music can still be kitschy, fun, and sexy. So Unreal offers all of those things, which makes it (mostly) an instantly gratifying and memorable effort despite the fact that much of it sounds so aggressively wrong.  Everything sounds warped, submerged, slowed down, deliberately plodding, too muddy, or too trebly:  the overall aesthetic seems to be "sun-warped '80s pop record (probably the 12" remix version) misremembered through a fog of barbiturates." Dub is also a strong reference point though, particularly in the bass lines, faux-horns, and the duo's fondness for panning and other studio enhancements.
However, the alchemy involved in making something likable out of a stew of deliberately warped sounds, lumbering/dated drum machine beats, and cheesy factory synthesizers is quite complicated and puts a lot of pressure on Brown's languid, heavily reverbed vocals to carry the songs.  They're not always up to the task (the opener "Make Me Over" falls pretty flat, for example), but her hit-to-miss ratio is fairly high for someone who probably never expected to be pretending that she is a sultry pop diva.  I was also very impressed at how well her lyrics fit the music, as the repeated "is it the champagne talking?" in "Berlin Baby" perfectly captures the "jaded and dissolute in an imagined '80s LA" feel of the music.  "Freak me and I’ll freak you back" is another particularly endearing couplet.  I'm sure there are more that I have not discovered yet.
The entire album is a bit much to take in one dose, given the limited palette, poor sound quality, and emphasis of style over substance, yet there are some extremely cool individual songs.  I was most fond of the lazily sinuous groove of the title piece, but "How Would U Know?" is also pretty spectacular–the underlying music kind of sounds like Wham's "Everything She Wants" being played at the wrong speed (which is a compliment, of course).  This is definitely a creative breakthrough for Brown–it is a welcome surprise to hear an aesthetic perfectly captured that I hadn't even imagined existing yet (early Bret Easton Ellis meets Hypnagogic Pop?).  I am converted.
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On my first time listening through Radiant Intervals, I was concerned that whatever magic Eleh was channeling previously, the source was fading. What was once rich in detail and emotional warmth had become cold and clinical. Yet, this was a hasty and trying the music again and again, I find the tones enveloping me like a cocoon. Considering this music cold was a mistake but it is clinical in a different sense to the usual critical context of the word. It is clinical in a restorative, healing way.
"Night of Pure Energy" is busier than what I usually expect from Eleh; the overlapping low frequency waves are joined by a rumbling beat and a higher tinnitus-like ringing noise. The whole piece sounds like the impossibly endless decay of bells struck before the recording took place. Just at the point when I become lost in the shimmering haze, what at first appears to be a pressing error on the LP breaks the mood suddenly. This scratchy sound, reminiscent of surface noise, allows the piece to disintegrate and for "Death is Eternal Bliss" to begin.
Like the previous piece, this too is centered around unusual harmonics and the beatings between the different frequencies but it takes a very different direction as it progresses. The beatings take on an inviting character, coming close to very, very minimal techno. The obvious touch point in Eleh’s catalog is their side of the split with Ellen Fullman (reviewed last week) and I wonder if Eleh is moving away from the more conventional classical minimalism of previous recordings.
The second side of Radiant Intervals is given up to two more pieces, neither of which repeat the ideas of the first side. "Bright & Central as the Sun Itself" sounds like the output of a mass spectrometer looks: thin, distinct bands of color (or in this case, sound) unique to the element being tested. Mass spectrometry was used to identify one of the main components of the sun, helium (the first element to be found in space before being later found on earth). Like helium, this music is lighter than air and it almost floats through the atmosphere. Suddenly, the individual frequencies coalesce into a body of sound that begins to spin under its own gravity like the furnace at the center of a solar system.
"Measuring the Immeasurable" seems to be born out the nuclear fusion of the previous piece; an increase in complexity as the gravity at the center of Eleh’s music begins to do its work. An arpeggio comes out of nowhere, as striking as landing on Mars and being greeted by someone you already know. This develops into the warmest, gentlest drone I have ever heard and how I thought this was cold during my initial listening session is beyond me!
As Radiant Intervals comes to a close for yet another time, it strikes me at how such "simple" music can be in eliciting a powerful emotional response. Throughout the album, feelings of calm permeate my mind. It is almost like a cleansing of thoughts; Eleh is a meditation music machine (although that sounds like a new age nonsense, there is certainly more mechanical elements in Eleh’s work compared to artists who evoke similar feelings like Pauline Oliveros or La Monte Young). Indeed, this use of focused drone music to initiate a change in mental state has been central to Eleh since the beginning; even before hearing the music, we only need to read the titles to realize that. Now Eleh has become the master in the approach to using a limited palette of frequencies to create such vivid, moving music.
 
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This solo debut initially had me pretty baffled, as it is stylistically all over the map and bears little resemblance to Manley's previous work with Trans Am and The Fucking Champs.  There is a perfectly logical explanation, however, as Life Coach is intended as a homage to the work of legendary German producer Connie Plank.  Of course, the fact that Phil is essentially attempting to pay tribute to the entire krautrock canon on a single album is probably even more baffling still (as well as inherently doomed), but he has the instrumental and engineering prowess to at least make an intermittently impressive show of it.
The element of Plank's work that most fascinates Manley is his attention to Klangfarben, which translates directly as "tone color," but more specifically means the nuances that give a tone its individuality.  For example, the same chord played on one guitar through one amp will sound different than the same chord played through another configuration.  As such, a lot of Phil's effort went into finding the right gear and recording equipment for getting exactly the clear, vintage sounds he wanted with as little interference from amplification and processing as possible.  In fact, it seems like maybe a bit too much effort may have been spent in search of the perfect timbres and textures, as the actual songs (while pleasant) aren't always substantial enough to make much of an impact.  People who get excited about great production or analog synthesizers will find a lot to be thrilled about, but the opportunities for delight are a bit more limited for those of us who don't care whether he used a Crumar Orchestrator or not.
The album's shortcomings are especially frustrating because Phil gets so much right: Life Coach is lively, melodic, and well arranged and he nails all of the key krautrock tropes without fail.  Unfortunately, not everything from that period has aged particularly well and Manley has a tendency towards brevity and simplicity that prevents many of his songs from effectively taking hold.  Also, there is one song ("Gay Bathers") that is just genuinely dreadful–while mercifully brief, it bears a very unfortunate resemblance to the "uplifting" closing credit music on Intervention.
Nevertheless, there are some notable successes too.  The album's definite highlight (and longest piece) is "Night Visions," a slowly unfolding and looping guitar piece that shares a lot of common ground with the excellent solo work of Emerald's Mark McGuire (no surprise, as they no doubt share many of the same influences).  There are some important differences though, as Manley's take on that sort of thing is much more minimal and meticulous than McGuire's and relies much less on escalating density. Some of the other highlights are the languid synth bliss of "Forest Opening Theme" and the odd "Commercial Potential,"which somehow seems to make '60s-style instrumental rock sound brooding and cinematic.  Many of the other pieces have their appealing traits as well, but suffer from over-brevity, underdevelopment, or simply lack of strong character.  Also, the opening "FT2 Theme" shows that the line separating "anthemic Neu! pastiche" from "music that could be from a mid-'80s aerobics video" is a very blurry and subjective one.
Life Coach has some moments of inspiration and a few good songs, but I would have liked it a lot more if Manley had been less conspicuously chameleonic. Acknowledging influences is certainly laudable and this album arguably works fairly well as a tribute/experiment (and a rather ambitious one at that), yet I am ultimately left with the feeling that I still have no idea what Phil Manley trying to sound like Phil Manley might sound like.
 
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One of the main stumbling blocks that people have with Severed Heads' discography is that Tom Ellard's long, slow evolution from harsh tape loop experimentalism to hooky electronic pop has resulted in a lot of albums that are either too outré for people looking for "pop" or too straightforward and comparatively toothless for fans that loved his early works like Since the Accident.  The precise point at which those two sides of Ellard's vision struck the perfect balance is highly debatable, but I have always believed 1991's Cuisine to be the Sevs' definitive synthesis of edginess, unpredictability, and tight songcraft.
Volition/Nettwerk/Sevcom
As with most Severed Heads releases, Cuisine has cycled through a few different record labels and track lists, but most of the important things have remained relatively constant.  However, the appended Piscatorial EP was regrettably absent from the original cassette version.  That is unfortunate, as its inclusion is essential to the album's overall charm, concluding the skewed, beat-driven songs of the main album with a plunge into a rabbit hole of deep weirdness.
Central to Cuisine's appeal is the simple fact that Ellard wrote a handful of brief, punchy, and sometimes quite excellent "pop" songs, but was still quite happy to derail them with anachronistic or mischievous surprises. It is a combination that works quite well. Naturally, given that this electronic music was made using the technology of 20 years ago, some of the beats and synth parts sound rather dated at times, but several of the songs are solid enough to transcend that: for example, the stripped-down and spectral "Ugly Twenties" still sounds as vital as ever today.  Weirdly, it is probably the most straightforward song on the album, making it an unexpected favorite for me.  Many of the similarly melodic and propulsive songs on the album are far more traditionally "Severed Heads," such as the cut-up, pitch-shifted voices in "Pilot in Hell," or the "out-of-control bagpipe ensemble" and "malfunctioning film projector" sounds in "Goodbye." Such distinctly Ellard-ian touches also serve to elevate the pieces where the songwriting isn't as strong, like the striking fiddle loop interlude in "Golden Height/I'm Your Antidote" or the haunting singing sample in "The Tingler."  Those touches are why I love this album–even its clunkiest and clumsiest moments might be interrupted by something totally unexpected or sublimely beautiful.
Piscatorial is the icing on the cake (for me anyway), though it probably seems like a perverse endurance test for those drawn to Severed Heads' catchier side, as it evinces an incredible zeal for endless repetition with slow and subtle variation.  Fortunately, anyone who can make it through the relentlessly insistent children's song-sampling piece "Kangaroo Skippy Roo" or the obsessively looping phase-shift experiment of "Quest for Oom Pa Pa" is treated to one of the greatest pieces that Ellard ever recorded: "Wonder of all the World."  Oddly, it sticks to the tireless repetition and heavy reliance on loops that characterized its predecessors, but keeps things extremely focused and minimal.  In fact, there are only two conspicuous parts: a melancholy string snippet appropriated from a classical piece and the sung phrase "wonder of all the world."  The magic lies in what Ellard does with those simple materials, as he warps and slows down the vocalist in supremely unsettling and ghostly fashion.
Sadly, I haven't met too many other people that share my excitement about this album, which I can understand, as it is somewhat self-indulgent, inconsistent, and very much rooted in a very specific era that has passed.  Nevertheless, it is still packed full of infectious hooks and great ideas and boasts at least two rather brilliant songs.  Equally importantly, it is entirely devoid of the clichés and posturing that were so rampant in "industrial" music around that time.  I am particularly impressed with how Ellard used loops on this album, as he never did anything obvious like lift a beat, bassline, movie dialog sample, or recognizable hook. Instead, he managed to craft some rather soulful, stuttering hooks of his own through enthusiastic mutilation and reshaping of improbable or unrecognizable source material.  Consequently, no one else sounded quite like this (then or now).  Taken in its entirely, Cuisine certainly has a number of flaws, but it is definitely original and ingenious enough to warrant a re-evaluation.
 
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There has never been an album by Nina Nastasia I didn't like. Sure, I have my favorites, and on those my favorite songs, but I've never been disappointed. I also know what to expect in terms of her songwriting, which is always exceptional. The formula and style haven't varied much from record to record, though different elements are often accentuated. What I do notice is a steady refinement and ever increasing mastery of subtle details. Her introspective lyrics continue to explore the territories of friendship, love, longing, and loss, and her strong and powerfully feminine voice continues to elucidate deep emotional responses from within me.
Part of the consistency from album to album comes from the great working relationship she has with engineer Steve Albini. All of her albums are suffused with the distinctive warmth he is able to magically extract from all the instruments, especially the strings. Drummer Jim White, of Dirty Three fame, has also contributed expert percussive rhythms to a number of her records. White doesn’t make an appearance on Outlaster but the drums are just as deftly employed by Jay Bellerose. The entire set up across these ten songs is unique, as she works with a string quartet, a wind quartet, and a trio. Paul Bryan who plays piano and electric bass in the trio was also responsible for the conducting and arrangements of the songs. Sometimes the addition of orchestral elements can make a record bombastic and overbearing. This is certainly not the case here. All the components are married together perfectly.
The disc opens with the elegiac "Cry, Cry Baby," beginning with soft strumming and gentle voice. Bluegrass infused cello bowing underscore is given a moment to shine by itself, before she sings out "you're my only true love" while the violins soar into the higher registers, the electric guitar whispering quiet lines along the edge of the song. Nina is great at writing short songs, often having several on an album that clock in at under two minutes. For all their brevity, they are often the most poignant and powerful of all. I think of them as extended haikus, rich with imagery that burns in a powerful flash. "Moves Away" is such a song, her energetic voice spinning a commanding melody.
The rhythm and pacing of the words bleeds over into the next song, the string quartet conjuring up motifs from previous songs. The joy for me on "You're a Holy Man," however, is delicate flourishes of the quick French horn which place the song in another orbit. It is hard to pick a favorite piece but when I'm not listening to the album straight through, I return to "You Can Take Your Time," which would be a good choice for a mix tape or to play as part of a radio set. It gives me the shivers, especially verses like, "do you think I judge you / tell me how it looks to love you / I am not a stranger / I know you well."
"The Familiar Way" has an enjoyable flamenco flair, recalling similar elements in the work of Matt Elliott on albums like Failing Songs and Howling Songs. In the lyrics she references her own previous masterpiece The Blackened Air, an album that has held up considerably well over the years. Things reach a midway climax on the following "What's Out There," where the string section collapses at one point into a frittering display of plucking, effectively capturing the sound of broken clocks, and jarring springs. The second to last song, "One Way Out," is another brilliant short tune: the lyrics are minimal but her voice is most gorgeous and tender at this point, demonstrating the great range she is capable of. The title track tops things off with a wondrous evocation of sailing across the sea. It starts with cymbal taps that are almost imperceptibly ring modulated. The wind section is sonorous, as if the exhaled air of the players is tinkling the caressing strings of bells. Things fade out in a peaceful lull.
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