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This collection draws on a number of unreleased tracks from Emmanuel's most fertile period, offering an array of examples of his distinctive stylistic mastery. Ordered more or less sequentially, the disc offers a fine demonstration of the artist's trajectory. Opening with the placid and gentle drones of "Movement into Lightspeed," played on an organ with an Echoplex and reel deck, the work soon grows in complexity until the closing 22-minute track, "Changeling," featuring four synths at work. In between lies a body of work whose importance is far greater than its notoriety.
Emmanuel's main cue and most obvious influences lie in the minimalist composers. Much of his work has the distinct feel of greats like Steve Reich and Philip Glass as arpeggiated tones are gently modified through the consistent warmth of his synth tones. Yet it is likely Terry Riley's shadow which looms largest here, as Emmanuel displays a penchant for conjuring the spiritual strength in repetition. Swaying effortlessly, "Sunrise Over Galveston Bay" has synth lines drifting atop field recordings of waves, a tactic whose overuse is rendered obsolete here due to the piece's humble simplicity.
"7 Note Trance" is, as suspected, a pulsing body of arpeggiated tones (seven of them, I would believe...) that ebb and flow ceaselessly forward while the aptly titled "Grandioso" finds a medium tempo urging along a regal space age procession. Each use a highly different in approach but the feel is of a fully realized and unified musical voice. The stoned pitch modulations of "Through Inner Planes" may well be the least tangible work here, but it still manages to fit comfortably into the bigger picture presented here.
While some of Emmanuel's earliest experiments are present on Solid Dawn, they sound right at home next to more constructed works like "March of the Colossus," a patient and brooding space filled with austere lines that would find themselves fitting snuggly between Reich's "Four Organs" and Paul Bley's electronic keyboard work. "Whirlwind" takes off even further, pulsing outward in continuous lines of sensual colors.
Emmanuel's recent rediscovery has proved to be an important factor in the emergence of a burgeoning New Age aesthetic practiced by units such as Oneohtrix Point Never, Steve Hauschildt and countless others. His influence may yet reach its height and works such as these serve as important reminders of the links between much basement drone and minimalist composition. Emmanuel himself may well come to resurface as one of the most important bridges between them if albums of this quality continue to emerge.
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THEO ANGELL
Tenebrae CD
Amish is pleased to announce the release of Theo Angell's Tenebrae (AMI-030). Tenebrae is Theo's fourth long-player and second with Amish (also see Dearly Beloved, [AMI-025]). Theo grew up in rural Oregon, was home-schooled along with his siblings by his minister father, which provided him little exposure to mainstream pop culture; the tunes on Tenebrae reflect these conditions, documenting both a reverence for and rebellion against isolation and spiritual absolutes. To that end, the title song, which is the Latin word for shadows, references a religious ceremony that involves the extinguishing of candles and a slamming of the book in advance of holy week. The album’s song-cycle reworks various primitive musical forms (tent revival, folk, psych, fill-in-the-blank with wildly counter-cultural outsider artist) to new and celebratory ends, twisting these styles into a unique brand of folk-psychedelia. For this outing, the Tabernacle Hillside Singers include, among others, Matt Valentine, P.G. Six, Tom Greenwood, Samara Lubelski and Tara Jane O'Neil. Tenebrae highlights again Theo’s unique poly-vocal pyrotechnics and will no doubt prove to be one of the most beautiful records of the year.
There are great sci-fi stories in the flesh of underground music, and Theo Angell is a monstrous storyteller—there can be no single universe to slay or streamline his genius. He cannot be contained within the medium, his voice becomes a giant amidst the twin peaks of yr speakers. Boasting an impressive amalgam of the sonic pH factor of the Pacific Northwest, sacred harmony singing/arranging and an extremely erudite upgrade on modern folk forms, Theo Angell's Tenebrae resonates deep in the annals of sonic architecture, the next step, or second tier, of the Cecil Sharp house. This addition is more like a modal bathysphere with a teleport than any kinda arcane "in the ground pool," tho' there is plenty here for one to deep one’s inner ear within the waters of tradition.
I first "heard" Angell's music when he was part of the Hall Of Fame triad, his tonal shards along with "headphones as space helmet wireless mic" never ceased to astound and it was his harmonic juxtapostions that were always a standout force in their live sets. On record that unit boasted great prowess with effortless forays into instrumental urban wormholes and pastoral greenspace and here on Tenebrae the same accents can be found, but far more “21st century” in both the production, depth of field and, most importantly, the songwriting. The vocals are extraordinary, coming across with a warm reediness conjuring up the colloquial plaintiveness of Washington Phillips crossed with a more exploratory Willie Nelson cast in acid folk modes...and this IS the real psych folk, transportive with deep attention to sonic detail and with an equally legit centrifuge of tonal color. It is as if Tenebrae refracted the early music of John Dowland and transported it thru a space age, spaced out choral family. "The family" is a solid approach here, Theo sings of various culture hordes, implements his own cult of musicians (for this aural message, the Tabernacle Hillside Singers include, among others, Matt Valentine, P.G. Six, Tom Greenwood and Samara Lubelski), and sounds himself like a harmony machine from a future wave. Obviously in the latter is where his impeccable vocal style emerges, you simply have to live this sorta colloquial song in order to sing it and Theo is the pure voice of lost America jamming with the embers of tradition. This is no small feat, and yet the familiars are so potent in his tonal magic that you feel free and yet anchored to pure folk song. This is where he darks the sun of the zeitgeist of strum and hum silver spoon folkies and stands alive as the alchemical metal. The towering offspring within Tenebrae are all light and dark, as blinding as long lost harmony from suntones rebirthed as illuminating forms in the folk vernacular. This is heady stuff, but what I found most rewarding is that it also works as an aural massage, something you want to keep playing back, perfect alongside those fave rotations real slow in the glow from the window, everything so slow when this kinda shine flows.
- Matt "MV" Valentine / Maximum Arousal Farm / Winter 2009
CD is packaged in heavy Stoughton mini-LP style jacket and comes with 8-panel lyric sheet
Tenebrae tracklisting:
- Wakeling (3:05)
- A Crime From the Vine (3:14)
- The Shadow Ring (4:53)
- Higher Something (7:26)
- Never Heard That Baby Cry (7:30)
- Like A Wind (8:31)
- Sadie Won't Come (Am I The One For Me?) (11:20)
- Salt (7:07)
- Maast (5:42)
- Tenebrae (5:51)
Artist site: http://www.myspace.com/theoangellthetabernaclehillsidesingers
Label site: http://www.amishrecords.com
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Ectopic Ents
That Thirlwell decided to return to his past at this point in his career makes perfect sense. Each of the 13 pieces on Limb prefigure the ideas he has more recently explored as Manorexia and Steroid Maximus; they represent the beginning of his career as both a rock musician and a composer. His passion for soundtracks, modern classical music, and theory is fully formed and present on songs like "Te Deum" and "Primordial Industry," both of which were previously available only on compilations. As such, they were partially divorced from the Foetus oeuvre and remained hidden to all but the most ravenous and attentive collectors. Still other songs were never released or only saw the light of day as b-sides on obscure 7" records. Limb reabsorbs these lost tracks into the Foetus story and ties together Thirlwell's many disparate interests while maintaining an album- like illusion.
While the term experimental applies very well to what Thirlwell was doing in the early '80s, every song on Limb is immediate and attractive and removed from the aesthetics sometimes associated with experimental music. Thirlwell's imagination and early output is far removed from the sometimes dry world of academic composition and theory-for-theory's-sake performance. The sounds he manipulates and utilizes are ultimately invested in the pleasure of listening and not in the theory itself. The liner notes, which were written by Thirlwell, mention his interest in the mathematical and experimental aspects of 20th century musical theory, but a direct line can be drawn from songs like "Te Deum" and "Sjogren's Syndrome" to the twisted pop of "I'll Meet You in Poland Baby" or the forceful percussion of "The Only Good Christian Is a Dead Christian." The techniques used to create the morose atmosphere of "Ezekiel's Wheel" and the dizziness of "That We Forbid" ultimately helped to form every Foetus record both technologically and aesthetically. Throughout many of the songs Thirlwell's love for hypnotic loops takes center stage, but they are complimented by big musical accompaniments and all manner of percussive mayhem. He fuses popular music and culture with the influence of Terry Riley and Phillip Glass and in the process forms something that is both confronational and alluring. The dark, creeping bass lines and tense, nerve-wracking melodies that populate many of his "jazz" and soundtrack-based works are also present on this record. Most striking, however, is the almost total lack of lyrics on every song. One of the most attractive elements of Thirlwell's music was, for me, his lyrical ability. His scathing deliveries, biting lyrics, and often hilarious play on words highlighted many of his best songs, but Limb doesn't feature even one of his characteristic growls. The focus is completely on his musical sensibilities and the sensations he's capable of creating with little more than samples, everyday objects, and the occaisional synthesizer.
Limb also features a DVD, which is composed of a documentary directed by Clement Tuffreau and a series of brief live performances by each of Thirlwell's major incarnations. The documentary provides excellent insight into Thirlwell's world, his background, and features a host of familiar faces, including Michael Gira and Lydia Lunch. Tuffreau gets Thirlwell and company to talk about everything from his move to New York and his early musical endeavors to the various films he's starred in and scored, as well as the circumstances surrounding the development of Steroid Maximus, Wiseblood, and Manorexia. Foetus may have been developed with a certain mythology in mind, but this documentary essentially collapses the space between Thirlwell and his fans. Despite all the drama of drugs and sex that might've been inserted into the film, Tuffreau keeps his focus almost completely on Thirlwell's music and art. Thankfully, all of the individuals interviewed stay on topic, too, with Lydia, Matt Johnson, and Alexander Hacke providing some of the best commentary. For any Foetus fan this is an absolutely essential release. For the casual listener or the interested bystander, Limb is actually a great place to start listening to J.G. Thirlwell. The pop sensibilities that he is perhaps most known for are absent from the CD but his multi-faceted output is still well represented by this collection.
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Although still in his early 20s, Jon Borges has long been a dominant and influential figure in the American noise underground. Austere is the first new Pedestrian Deposit release in three years (due to a shift in focus towards his more ambient Emaciator project) and the first to feature a second band member (cellist/violinist Shannon Kennedy). As expected, it is well worth the wait.
 
 
Jon Borges began recording as Pedestrian Deposit in 2003 at 16.Since then, he has toured relentlessly, started his own label, and released an astonishing torrent of limited-edition releases though nearly every cool underground label around.From the very beginning, Borges has set himself apart from his peers with his surgical exactitude and purposefulness, but his aesthetic has slowly shifted over the years.Austere continues his evolution away from the unrelenting harshness of his early releases towards a more spacious, melodic, and composed aesthetic that is more uniquely his own.Kennedy (Bitter Milk) proves to be a rather able foil in this endeavor, as her (often electronically treated) droning strings bring a submerged organic melancholy that complements Borges' crackling electronics beautifully.
"Meander" begins the album with subtle static, an insectoid stutter, and a low hum that gradually grows increasinglydense before morphing into a darker, more unsettling and metallic drone.Later, the drone becomes more machine-like in nature and fades out beneath a controlled flurry of crackles and throbs."Impermanence" follows in a somewhat similar vein, but is initially a bit more intense and immediate (despite the decdedly non-threatening inclusion of field-recorded crickets).It soon drifts into a lengthy, disquieting and cavernous-sounding cello and bowed metal interlude (which itself is ultimately engulfed by white noise and clattering metal).The third track, "Requite," opens with a startling blast of static, followed by some more buzzing and droning (albeit with some vaguely angelic vocal snippet buried deep in the wreckage). Gradually, a grinding metallic drone emerges, along with some somber backwards strings of some kind.The brief flirtation with melody is quickly discarded though, and the track escalates into a dense industrial roar before abruptly cutting out.
Those first three tracks show a meticulous attention to sequencing, dynamics, and coherence:each track is more visceral and compelling than the previous one and they all seem to form a single gradually unfolding song suite.This trajectory, of course, means that Borges saved his best material for the second half of the album."Trail" and "Former" take the themes of the first half of the album and forge them into something still more impressive and memorable.They are quickly eclipsed, however, as the 20-minute closing track, "You Didn't Break Me," is an absolute tour de force: field recordings, haunting ambience, somber cellos, eerie drones, and ear-shredding cascades of harsh electronics all unfold in an elegantly composed and seamless flow.Notably, this track contains the only sustained abrasive electronics frenzy on the album, which is quite masterful.Given Borges' past, harshness is to be expected and the incredibly patient and tense build-up to the inevitable catharsis ensures maximum impact.When the previously restrained and elegant electronics of Austere finally turn violent, it hurts.
Austere is an excellent album.There is almost no one else that brings this degree of thought and patience to the experimental noise genre:Borges seems to keep getting better and better.I hope I don't have to wait another three years for him and Shannon to compose a suitable follow-up, but I still have the voluminous Emaciator back catalogue to sift though in the meantime, so I suspect I will somehow manage if I have to.
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Hospital Productions
Cold Cave originated as something of an electronic solo project for prolific underground icon Wes Eisold, but it eventually expanded into a full band. Eisold is best known as the former frontman of hardcore legends American Nightmare and Give Up The Ghost, but has also been a member of XO Skeletons and Some Girls. Recently, he has expanded into publishing too with the launching of Heartworm Press (which boasts forthcoming books by both Boyd Rice and Genesis P. Orridge). While his creative output has varied in superficial ways, it has always been rooted to a firm foundation of restless intensity and intelligence, both of which are on ample display throughout Cremations.
This album, released by Prurient's Dominick Fernow, compiles the Painted Nails EP, the Electronic Dreams cassette, and the self-released Coma Potion LP. Despite that, however, Cremations nonetheless manages to sound like a coherent and deliberately sequenced album. The individual tracks, however, are mostly brief sound experiments rather than fully realized works. On one level, that is a bit disappointing, as I know that Cold Cave has some amazing songs and I wish they were here. On a different level, however, Cremations works as a kind of imaginary soundtrack: this is exactly the sort of stuff that I envision playing in an underground club in some sort of sleazy, squalor-filled sci-fi dystopia like those portrayed in Total Recall or William Gibson’s Neuromancer.
Despite the embryonic nature of this material, Eisold's aesthetic remains quite focused and there are occasional glimpses of the great band that Cold Cave is rapidly evolving into. Two tracks in particular stand out as especially excellent: "Heavenly Metals" is a perversely beautiful and catchy piece built around some Max Morton spoken word about doomed robot love in a horrific post-apocalyptic wasteland, while "E Dreams" is a hauntingly melancholic ambient piece that shimmers around a distorted and echoing female voice. However, there are number of other noteworthy tracks scattered throughout as well, such as "Sex Ads," which is one of a handful of songs that approximate a mangled, thuggish, and noise-damaged reenvisioning of Soft Cell.
Cremations is probably not the best place to start with Cold Cave, but it does feature some strong (albeit often abrasive) material nonetheless. I expect that whatever comes next from them will be amazing, but there are some great tracks already available on various releases (such as "Love Comes Close" and surprisingly poppy "The Trees Grew Emotions and Died") that are worth seeking out in the meantime. Oddly, Eisold also has a similarly excellent solo project (Ye Olde Maids) that is very much in the same vein (albeit less dark), so hopefully that will result in twice as much great electropop in my future. Keep an eye on this guy.
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Originally issued on Davjon Records (a small label with negligible distribution), the rarity of Hymns A Swinging is a major reason for its legendary status. Trunk has previously issued a couple of tracks from this album on the sampler Resurrection: The Amplified Bible of Heavenly Grooves, but hearing the entire album is an unmissable experience.
The image provided of The Mike Sammes Singers is a magnificent depiction of buttoned-up bygone glamor and total repression. The men that make up the band have greased back short-back-and-sides haircuts, neckties peeping from under V-necked sweaters, and ample trousers revealing nothing. The women wear tight-waisted floral frocks and their hair is barely softer than Vera Lynn's stiff wartime hairdo. The voices of the group are precise and playful yet pure. They're very adept with advertising jingles, some of which can be heard on their album Music For Biscuits, also reissued by Trunk. Their "Timex" jingle is a personal favorite.
Hymns A'Swinging opens with The Ted Tayor Organsound laying down a chunky groove that might have been dropped off a British version of a Blacksploitation flick. When the singers enter, though, the mood of the song is abruptly altered; I laughed and almost snorted the bone out of my nose once they began. Indeed, anyone catching a glimpse of me stuck in traffic listening to the remainder of that track, "Harvest Home," and the next couple ("Hills of The North" and "40 Days and 40 Nights") might have been concerned that I had slipped into a waking coma, was researching mouth-breathing techniques, or accidentally revisiting a horrible nightmare. After a few listens I've been able to revisit the record and appreciate it for more than the humor it provides. Now Irelish the bongo fury and jazz flute on "All Things Bright And Beautiful" which also includes tight echoey guitar in the style of "Summer Holiday" and jabbering soprano scat and syrupy tenor voices. It wouldn't surprise me, however, if someone were to mistake parts of the album for a dull children's record gone horribly wrong.
There are sublime moments amidst the ridiculous ones, however. The breaks on "Immortal Invisible God Only Wise" are truly unbelievable and Len Clarke's spritely crisp drumming won me over very quickly. It's worth noting that the Ted Taylor Organsound also features the talents of jazz legend Tubby Hayes on tenor sax and flute. Ike Issacs, Clive Hicks, and Cedric West take turns on the guitar and Mike Nottingham's bass parts also fit the bill. Mercifully, Ted Taylor doesn't ram his organ into every available space, for which we might all be grateful.
I would even claim that the jumble of styles found on this record form a match made in heaven... or a match made in the mixed-up, post-war world of England. The charm of the Church of Engand—despite its origins in Henry VIII's land and power grab—is that it may often be considered the least dogmatic of all organized religions. In my experience most Church of England vicars would sooner discuss jam and gardening than Jesus and God. Many might react with mild surprise to the idea that some people believe in a literal seven day creation story, miracles, and resurrection. Maybe it's a healthy aversion to talking about work or perhaps a modest caution, but those vicars seem less at ease with life after death than with tea and cake. Culturally disinclined to consider, say, abortion or sexuality, their moral reasoning is usually preserved for such topics as Test Match cricket and town planning. When pressed, one such dog-collared fellow once mentioned to me that perhaps we humans are like tadpoles, with the opportunity to one day become...well... frogs. An enduring image, of sorts.
The real merit of Hymns A' Swinging is that the whole project has a charming light touch which transforms these hymns from the Church of England songbook. It's as if they might have been born to submit to the arrangements of a music director like David Moses. An element of shock is also present: when listening to any of the intros to these tracks it's impossible to guess what the song will be. As with all Trunk releases, my advice is to throw caution to the wind, believe in your ears, and let yourself be transported to a different place. An alternate title for this, arguably the most outrageous Trunk release yet, might be Music For Tadpoles, then.
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The most literal interpretations of the theme that can be heard here are the two "Inside" tracks (both sequenced towards the early part of the disc), and the closing "Outside." The former two are brief, but are slow motion studies of reverb, all leaning on the dark and obfuscated elements of that effect. Given it was recording in a massive decommissioned bunker, it is entirely likely that the reverb is more the product of actual environment instead of traditional VST plugins. The converse is the album closer, "Outside," which is exactly that: a lush field recording of rain enveloping the mix, with some far off bird calls to signify the light outside of the massive, cold structure.
The pieces in between these two take different directions, but continue to use similar themes throughout. With the exception of its first part, the six pieces of "Ammunition" focuses mostly on the clear sounds of untreated guitar. The plaintive, looped guitar notes are the focus, with the occasional piece of glitch texture or electronic pulse to show up, but almost always remaining extremely subtle, to leave the focus on the organic guitar. The "Ammunition" suite does, however, open with a passage of humming and buzzing, with melodic beeps, while it closes with static, frigid tones, a small amount of static, and the birds chirping in the distance.
The three-piece "Installation" suite emphasizes the digital sounds more, but still with Webb’s sense of restraint. The first part is fuzzy opaque static—not quite distortion, yet thick and dense—with swells of melody below the grimy noisier elements. The second segment continues this, allowing delicate chiming tones and other soft elements to occasionally rise to the surface above rattling electronics and ground hum distortion. The set closes with swirling guitar and bird calls, though still secondary to the synthetic and processed sounds, but never being too obscured.
The recording location for these tracks could undoubtedly be said to have influenced the sound, because the disc is a perfect sonic metaphor for an empty ammunitions bunker within a delicate ecosystem and nature preserve. With extreme restraint digital instrumentation, traditional guitar, and field recordings are allowed to coexist, and I don’t think it is an accident that the most memorable sounds are the natural ones when all is said and done.
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"Umbra" originates from a 16 track piece from 2006, and is not a drastic departure in sound for any who followed Hampson’s trek as Main: it retains his fondness for vast soundscapes of alien insectoid chattering, here met with a low frequency bass rumble and occasional fragments of pure tones. While it stays consistent with mood and feel, the dynamics of the track change frequently: once a set of textures have been allowed to develop, they’ll be abruptly cut-off and then replaced with a new set to rebuild from scratch. The source of the sounds is anything but clear, but found sound percussion, objects and metal objects vibrating, and the occasional loud crash or sharp crack are recurrent motifs throughout.
Hampson’s work here is both figuratively and literally linked to astronomy, which has been one of his passions since the early days in Main (I know as a teenager listening to those releases, I had to do some searching to figure out what those track titles were all about). Rather than merely conjuring images of the universe by the titles, the tracks on Vectors actually use this as a source of the sound. The middle piece, "Ahead-Only the Stars," is dedicated to the astronauts of the Mercury space program, as well as pilot Chuck Yeager. The opening clearly showcases the flight of jets across the sky, which later becomes the underlying sonic element buried under layers of effects and processing, becoming a looped, almost rhythmic passage of noise. On top of this are bits of static and radio transmission beeps, all with any actual voices removed. The departure of the human element from this technology gives a much different sensation than if it had been left in, and the fragments around the communications make for interesting sounds all their own.
The final piece, "Dans Le Lointain," takes the space concepts in a different direction, and is constructed from cassettes recorded of shortwave radio transmissions from the early 1980s. These tapes were then treated with traditional tape manipulation, as well as digital effects, and the result is a sprawling, 20 minute track of high pitched chimes and static loops. The mix as a whole emphasizes the treble and melds metallic rattles and percussive shaking with found noises and static loops, with the occasional soft melodic pulse, giving some sense of traditional "music" within the space. The closing textural static is some of the best I’ve heard on record, with a crunch that is almost tactile.
This first "true" solo album by Robert Hampson does not really stray far from what anyone would expect who is familiar with the later works of Main, but does show Hampson pushing his sonic vehicle even farther into the dark regions of space. The combination of early tape music, modern digital experimentation, and even a subtle smattering of his "rock" background makes for a sonic excursion that is among the most engaging works of electro-acoustic music I have heard this year.
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Sunn O))) have always incorporated musical styles from outside the doom metal ghetto to varying degrees of success. The White albums fused more experimental forms of sound with Anderson and O’Malley’s guitars and the duo have consulted an ever increasing cast of collaborators on their subsequent albums. In particular, Oracle and their album with Boris, Altar have widened the boundaries within which Sunn O))) operate. However, both these releases had their flaws as well as their successes but with Monoliths & Dimensions they managed to fully integrate their amp excess with influences from the worlds of jazz and contemporary composition.
Half the album follows a traditional path for Sunn O))), possibly due to their renewed interest in their riff and drone beginnings (recently having toured as a duo recreating the spirit of their first release live). The opening piece, “Aghartha,” unfolds over a colossal guitar riff as Atilla Csihar intones a legend about a subterranean kingdom. The track title is also a nod to Miles Davis, one of the several jazz references on Monoliths & Dimensions. The old school Sunn O))) riffage appears again on “Hunting & Gathering (Cydonia),” where Anderson and O’Malley nod once again to Earth with a riff that could easily have come from Dylan Carlson’s own fingers. As far as textbook Sunn O))) tracks go, these two follow all the rules and supplement them with little flourishes, details and surprising additions like piano and horns.
Even with the little additions as a portent of what is to come, the rest of the album is astonishing. With all the descriptions of choirs, orchestras and jazz that preceded Monoliths & Dimensions, I feared that this would be some sort of mess and that Sunn O))) would finally succumb totally to being a real life Spinal Tap and unleash a “Jazz Odyssey” on us. Thankfully, the end result is one of the most fascinating metal albums to grace my stereo in years. “Big Church” starts off with a haunting choir refrain that sounds like one of Giya Kancheli’s more harrowing works. The addition of Dylan Carlson on guitar transposes the piece from Kancheli’s bleak east to Morricone’s blood red west (and surprisingly, the choir part was a transcription based on one of Carlson’s guitar riffs).
The album’s biggest wow moment comes with the indescribably beautiful “Alice,” dedicated to the memory of Alice Coltrane and featuring ex-John Coltrane collaborator Julian Priester on trombone (along with Stuart Dempster and Sunn O))) regular Steve Moore). The music is particularly unusual for Sunn O))) in that it is joyous, spacious and relies mostly on not amplifying the hell out of everything. With each strum of O’Malley’s guitar, the ensemble (they are way too dignified to be called a bunch of session musicians or a band) play swelling chords, the notes ascending into space and beyond. Priester’s mournful, haunting but magnificent trombone plays out the album and there’s nary a dry eye in the house.
That Sunn O))) could pull this out of their hoods should not be a surprise considering they are magpie-like collectors of unusual collaborators but I am still reeling from the shock of Monoliths & Dimensions. To be completely gobsmacked by an artist I think I know well is a terrific feeling and Sunn O))) have gone beyond that. Everything about Monoliths & Dimensions is flawless, from the performance itself down to the visual presentation. Randall Dunn and Mell Dettmer’s production is superb; the balance between conservatory instruments and the guitars has been tweaked to perfection (instead of sounding like the guitars have been turned down, instruments like the piano instead sound like they are being played by giants). Even the sleeve seems so deliberate and in keeping with the musical vision. This is an album for people who love their music, not something that can be dropped into a playlist for easier digestion. Monoliths & Dimensions is tremendous in every way.
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The sampled voice of Terrence Mckenna, unmistakable with its hyperspace insectoid drawl, opens the record with the time stretched utterance “something on the edge of nowhere,” announcing the liminal passages and secretive undercurrents explored on this album. Mckenna’s words encapsulate the fleeting feeling of trying to capture fugitive thoughts and images as they pass, rapid fire, through the cobwebs of the mind—the same subconscious places these songs seem to seep into and probe. Illegible voices from a police or military scanner emanate from swirling pools of reverb laden percussion, full of squelch, each one squabbling for supremacy.
“Old Gods and Freezing Rain” is a piece filled with dark echoing screams that conjure up visions of tribal warfare, sacrifice, and invocation. The rhythmic palpitations and elongated loops of “After the Storm” clear the cold air after that hiss laden aberration. The lazy pitter-patter of soft snares and brushed hi-hats is reminiscent of a slow drizzle. A few notes are played on a synth, forming concentric circles that ripple out of the stereo in a moment of transcendent beauty. Lush synth chords are also present on “The Messiah of Science,” but they are buried underneath relentless distorted rhythms. The aggression heard there is quick to abate though as “Particle Dome” mixes the calm evening chirps of crickets with detuned chanting, and a vaporous sound bringing to mind images of fog and mist rolling into the hills. The drones continue in “This Side of Zero,” the longest track at 13 minutes and sandwiched smack dab in the middle. It percolates gently with voices sounding as if they have been slurred by a tape dragging at the wrong speed. Later the crackling of a stylus emerges processed with flange or phase. “Drawing Lines in the Rocks” is another luminary song. The percussion has been sped up to the point where it does not sound like separate hits or punctuations, transforming into a smooth accelerated tone, with shimmering middle-eastern strings weaving loom like around it, at a lower volume, just beneath the surface.
Dark Rivers is filled with many of Storey’s patented techniques, his idiosyncratic use of percussion and loops, and sounds culled from various unnamed world instruments. Landscapes, whether natural or altered by man (modern or ancient) are motifs he has explored on his other albums and in his visual artwork. As such this album is a further refinement of his aesthetics and working procedures, and a represented his continued deepening immersion in the environment around him.
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Florida's Dark Castle first appeared in 2008 with an elaborately packaged self-released demo (Flight of the Pegasus) that garned a good deal of favorable attention from the metal press and other bands (including Relapse Records' Minsk). It is easy to see why this unsigned band turned so many heads, as there are several obvious elements that separate them from their peers. For one, drummer Rob Shaffer is also the vocalist. Secondly, most of the guitar work is handled by a woman (Stevie Floyd), which is extremely rare in the extreme metal milieu. Finally, there is no bass, which is strikingly ballsy in a genre that is so intimately associated with low-frequency amplifier worship (also, they are not sludgy or dull).
"Awake In Sleep" begins the album with an extremely cool and crushing riff and thunderous, glacial drums and makes it clear that a bass player is entirely unnecessary. Dark Castle have a very pared-down and spacious sound and the songs are generally short, punchy, and skillfully constructed. While Shaffer's vocals strictly adhere to the traditional death metal growl school, the guitar work is usually melodic and hook-y enough to make the songs memorable and easily differentiated.
Floyd's guitar work throughout Spirited Migration is inspired and ambitious. Though she almost never takes a solo, she makes her virtuosity abundantly clear throughout (most obviously on the acoustic instrumental title track). Also, even though much of Spirited Migration is quite heavy, it is rare for her to lapse into traditional powerchord riffing at all. Being unencumbered by other musicians works extremely well here, as it allows Floyd to use tonal colors and create space in ways that would be lost in more cluttered ensembles (such as the echo-ey arpeggios in “Grasping the Awe"). Also, aside from using complex chords and embellishing her riffs with unusual flourishes, she also has a knack for making proggy psychedelia sound unindulgent (particularly in "Weather the Storm").
Rob Shaffer's drumming is similarly impressive, albeit for different reasons. He maintains an astonishing degree of restraint here and focuses on both simplicity and providing the maximum amount of dynamic impact. I have to admit that I am somewhat disappointed by the complete lack of double-bass and complicated fills, but I recognize they are egregiously overused in the genre and that it would run counter to Shaffer's pared-to-the-bone, slow-motion bludgeoning aesthetic. However, he artfully compensates for their absence by building intensity with expert crash cymbal and high-hat work (and I loved the tribal toms in "Growing Slow"). I suspect that is no simple accomplishment when one is also saddled with lead vocal duties.
I have a few minor grievances with this album: the drums are a bit too minimal for my taste, the songs all have a similar pace, and some more variety would be welcome (such as Floyd's spoken-word verses on "Grasping the Awe"). That said, however, this is an undeniably promising debut by a band that is doing almost everything exactly right. Rob and Stevie seem like a very intelligent and focused pair, so I expect they will only continue to get better and better with future albums. Dark Castle have a surprising amount of character for a metal band and they have already earned favorable comparisons to Isis (before their debut has even been officially released), so it is inevitable that they will soon take their rightful place in the bong-wielding pantheon of art metal luminaries.
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