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title: Jonas Reinhardt
catalog#: krank119
formats available: CD
release date: november 10, 2008
content: Drawing from traditions of 20th century instrumental synthesizer music, Jonas Reinhardt represents a love affair between analog electronics, sweeping atmospherics, and driving motorik beats. Combined together, these elements bring the album’s 13 pieces into focus as the soundtrack for an inner-eyelid space epic that never was.
Inspired in equal measure by the natural beauty of his California coastal surroundings, continental European art-rock experimentation, and the freewheeling punk aesthetic of contemporary home studio recording, Jonas Reinhardt’s music transcends it’s influences to bring into being a work that’s wholly new while referencing a celebrated aesthetic of the past.
Armed with a battery of analog synthesizers and vintage drum machines, Jonas writes music that is at times stark and spare and at others lush and all-encompassing; all the while keeping an underlying rhythmic pulse just beneath the surface.
Jonas describes his technique as ‘a spirited conversation between man, machines, and the ecstatic truth of the chaotic unknown.‘ With this album, Jonas carefully constructs melodies and rhythmic foundations then pushes the limits of recording to the sonic fringes and beyond. The effect is a warm, hauntingly familiar sound bounded by unpredictability.
context: Jonas Reinhardt hails from San Francisco, CA. He has been writing, recording and performing music with analog synthesizers for more than a decade both as a solo artist and in groups. He was initially inspired to use synthesizers during a summer sabbatical in Houston’s museum district and, in the late ‘90s, studied music synthesis at the Harvard Electronic Music Center.
track listing: 1. Lyre of David 2. Modern by Nature's Reward 3. Lord Sleep Monmouth
4. How to Adjust People 5. Fast Blot Declining 6. Tentshow 7. Every Terminal Evening
8. Worm Preach the Struggling Fire 9. Tandem Suns 10. Blue Cutaway/Tore Earth Clinker
11. An Upright Fortune 12. Crept Idea For A Mom 13. Lucian Lift
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LTM are doing a bang up job with their Auteur Labels compilation reissues. New Hormones 1977-1982 has everything from the neurotic energy of Buzzcocks, and the mysteriously unworldly clang and wail of Ludus, to the clunky disfunk of Diagram Brothers, and the outer dub jazz of the brilliantly named Eric Random. Factory Benelux 1980 – 1985 depicts a sort of musical channel tunnel shipping “spare” tracks from Factory Records artists to be stamped with the exotica of mainland Europe, in Brussels. Those doubters among you have never tasted Belgian beer, chocolate or sausage. However, of the three releases in the Auteur series thus far, my favorite is Les Disques de Crepusules.
If we disallow mistakenly overlapping packaging (for example A Certain Ratio’s "Shack Up" was issued by Factory Benelux/Les Disques du Crepuscule in 1980) then Crepuscule’s first musical release was the cassette From Brussels With Love. There’s nothing from that tape here, though, and the disc opens instead with their first vinyl issue, Michael Nyman’s “Mozart,” from early 1981. The piece is rather thin sounding but the repetition and dry rhythms echo several other tracks from this compilation. Elsewhere, Thick Pigeon’s “Subway” has a charming nocturnal sensibility and lyrics concerning male public urination and three piece suits provide a perfect contrast to blips and robotic female vocals. The jittery punk-funk of Josef K’s “Sorry for Laughing” needs no introduction, surely?
Antena’s “Camina del Sol” is a beguiling electro-samba with simple synth waves splashing, exotic (coconut shell?) rhythms knocking, and Isabelle Powaga’s voice flickering between celebration and regret. Talk about wish you were here; back in 1982 Antena toured with Cabaret Voltaire and 23 Skidoo. Anna Domino’s “Land of My Dreams” has always been a dreamy favorite of mine and time has done little to diminish its blissful narcotic thud and roll. “Party” by Durutti Column is as good an example of Vini Reilly’s guitar oeuvre as I’ve heard and the squalid romance and heartbreaking ordinariness of the lyrics are still affecting. Tuxedomoon’s contribution, “Ninotchka,” is as we have come to expect, rather unexpected.
The package depicts a bygone era of enduring relevance. Consequently, the allure of the Plan K venue, for example, leaps from the booklet text and my jealous regret at the thought of lucky patrons hearing Bernthøler play their legendary “My Suitor” in the Interferences café (Crepescule’s answer to the Hacienda and an intimate setting for performers and audience alike) is again aroused. The recent Joy Division films will hopefully stir an interest in other music from the period such as Les Disques du Crepuscule. As with all LTM releases, this one comes with a superb booklet rich in historical detail, photographs and artwork: unsurprising, of course, since the Auteur Labels are chosen for their elements of distinct sound and singular design.
samples
- Antena - Camino Del Sol
- Durutti Column - Party
- Richard Jobson - Autumn
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Rural Arab folk singers, Kurdish violinists, professional Jewish musicians, and prostitutes share equal billing. Various ethnicities, faiths, and dialects intermingle in a delicate balance that seems impossible by today's standards. This disc reveals a different side of Iraq from the more festive Choubi Choubi! released by Sublime Frequencies a few years back, one perhaps more somber but also more poignant.
Even without the album's title, the intense, passionate yearning for love or at least some sort of comfort comes through in this music, whether in the pained vocals of Hdhairy Abou Aziz's "Wenini" or the Kemani Noubar's lonesome violin on "Taqsim." Although the historical value of this collection is important, the virtuosity of the musicians is the real highlight. Blazing runs and hypnotic drones form the background of Badria Anwar's "Lega Taresh Habibi" while polyrhythmic hand drums work with pleading vocals to entrance the ear on Said El Kurdi's "Aman Aman Zakko." Sayed Abbood's voice in "Shlon Aslak" encompasses a vast emotional and aural landscape, commanding attention with every breath.
Not understanding the languages in which these songs are sung has its drawbacks at times, slowing some of the album's flow and tiring the ear in places, but that's almost to be expected on a collection of this breadth and length. The bulk of the material is an exciting hybrid of cultures that blends styles and beliefs in expressions of emotional crises and longing.
samples:
- Khedayer Bin Kessab - Taqsim
- Siddiqa El Mullaya - Ma Tehenn Alayya
- Sayed Abbood - Shlon Aslak
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The album’s title is Japanese for “sound of fog” and, listening to the music herein, it is easy to see why English used this phrase. The sounds here are dense and pervasive but at the same time they are ethereal, never coagulating into a solid force. It is up to the listener to orientate themselves in this vapour as English deploys a number of post-production techniques (analogue filtering, divergent mixing and distortion) to smear his original source sounds into this auditory fog. He leaves no landmarks and there is no trail of breadcrumbs to fall back on. However, the result of this is not a terrifying solitude in limbo but a feeling of travelling through a cloud without the aid of machinery; floating in isolation in an almost amniotic environment.
From time to time, sounds make it through English’s fog (an organ here and natural sound there) which pulls me back down to reality (or could be phantom artefacts generated by English’s production technique). The sound of the sea on “White Spray” is as close as it gets to a tangible reality before fading off into the distance. Alien atmospherics on “Allay” give the feeling of being far, far from home. It would be no surprise if those strangely fluid mechanical sounds were the utterings of some benevolent being resting in the periphery of this auditory pea souper.
What makes Kiri No Oto work so spectacularly well (and it is a spectacular album) is that no matter what situation I’ve listened to it in and no matter what sort of sound system I use, it still sounds phenomenal. Not that it sounds hi-fi on all formats but everything from my stereo system at home, my car stereo and right down to an iPod broadcasting into a nearby mono radio channels the music in a unique way. It surpasses the usual idea of ambient music (i.e. that which becomes part of the surroundings and is ignorable) as it subverts the ambience of a room (or car) and redefines the sonic space thereof. Instead of fitting the room, the room is made to fit it which fits in perfectly with English’s approach to designing these pieces, namely filtration and mixing.
As this is supposed to be the first in a number of experiments using these techniques, I am eagerly awaiting the follow ups to this wonderful album. It is a rare thing to hear an album that is so engaging and stimulating; that it is just the beginning of an ongoing work is joyous news indeed. I sincerely hope that all of the subsequent releases live up to the standard set by English with Kiri No Oto but even if they pale in comparison, the fact that this exists is more than enough.
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Music sounding much like a forlorn music box lost in shadows opens the album and remains a recurring theme throughout, giving the impression of someone lost in nostalgic memories. This is further enhanced by the way the group uses various audio fidelity qualities in their music, with vinyl crackling alongside modern beats suggesting the past merging with the present. Perhaps the album's intentions would be clearer if I understood a word of Finnish, yet not knowing the meaning of the lyrics or titles didn't dampen my enjoyment.
The textural variety is a definite highlight, but the album's most important quality is the songs themselves. "Kevätrumpu" is far from the quiet, introspective mood that opens the album. It contains some of the same qualities but uses them to serve a catchy dance song instead. Similarly, both "Uskallan" and "Ursulan Uni" use modern beats as their backbone. There are some tracks that don't rely so much on contemporary technology to get their point across, like the chamber music of "Tuosku Tarttuu Meihin" or the album's sole traditional folk song, "Italialaisella Laivalla." What makes Laulu Laakson Kukista so enjoyable is how the band naturally weaves these disparate elements together.
At a little over a half an hour, the album barely qualifies as full-length. Usually that may not be such a big issue in and of itself, but it's a little problematic here because the album has some padding. While the eerie atmospherics tie the music together and make for a consistent mood, the constant revisiting of this theme, especially on the album's last three out of four tracks, detracts somewhat from the album's overall power. Fewer interludes and more songs would have been nice.
Even so, the album's structured material is captivating enough to override the languid intermissions. The album may be brief, but its haunting beauty is hard to forget.
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Without knowing that background, this feels like a cohesive record: the tracks that were intended for the full length fit in nicely with the material from that debut EP. The only noticeable difference is a slightly rawer edge, perhaps it was a change in overall sound, or perhaps it was something that was not ironed out from the demo stages, but it’s so subtle that it is a non-issue. At the time, and even today, there was just very little ego to the work. Not as an intentional move to seem dark or mysterious, but to let the music be the focus, not the attitude or the image.
The songs are rather simple, uncluttered affairs. The title track and “Nadine” are rather slow, calm tracks with plaintive guitar and slow, sparse drums. There’s a great deal of spaciousness here: unlike bands that feel the need to multitrack or layer as much as possible, here they’re happy to simply let there be some space in the mix. “House Painter” and “Lydia/Spinning” are a bit edgier, more distortion on the former, and the latter hinges on a heavier bass melody. Yes, the second half is a cover of Loop’s “Spinning”, which even with the heavily flanged sound stays much more stripped down than the original, which allows the basics of the song to shine through.
The bonus tracks have, as I said, a slightly rougher sheen to them that, while not dramatic, is noticeable. “It’s Sooo Sad” and “Winter Comes and Goes” have a rawer sound, with a bit more aggression and distortion when compared to the prior tracks, but still stays close to the pop sensibilities that the entire album has. The closing “Her Tiny Little Heart” channels early U2 (during their mulleted days) in a good way with the effected drums and guitar playing.
It is kind of sad to hear this because there was a lot of potential for The Loved. The ten tracks that made it to tape show a trio that already had a good handle on their sound and what they wanted to do, but it just never “happened.” Thankfully the good people at Temporary Residence happened to have heard and loved the original EP enough to give it a wider release that it deserves.
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It’s not surprising this level of skuzzy noise rock would come out on Load, especially considering the band hails from the same Providence streets as the label (seriously, what kind of industrial pollution leads to music like this?). Although probably more notorious for their live shows than the actual music, this odds and ends collection of tracks stands up even without the visual spectacle. The 12 tracks and two bonus on the included 3" CD are culled from the vinyl releases Times I Despise, Dairy 4 Dinner, and Why I Live, plus two compilation appearances and three unreleased tracks.
The band likes to lock into a slower, sludgy pace on a lot of the tracks, “Times I Despise” and “Super Stupid Market” both are happy to channel early No Wave muck via the distortion and noise, the latter showing their twisted sense of humor with screamed lines like “there’s too much shit in my basket!” Not highbrow, nor should it be. Sometimes full on grating noise is the recipe of the day: “Dairy 4 Dinner” and the microcassette recorded “How Little Will It Take” blur that line between scum rock and abrasive noise. Then, there’s always the short little bits like “The Biggest Shit,” which is a very accurate description for its fast, loud, sloppy and messy duration.
The two longer 10” tracks that close the disc are where some distinct variations lie. “Why I Live” has a sharper overall sound with more prominent percussion and a different sound to the guitars, while “Hit The Land” features an organ, harmonica and a saxophone, and instead of going the sleaze punk route instead alternates between free jazz and classic spy movie soundtracks, if they were played by sloppy garage band.
The first part of the 3” included is one of the new tracks, “Pass the Buck”, which is 12 minutes of overdriven sludge that goes on and on with subtle variation. The other, shorter track is a live appearance “FM 91.1” that is pure screaming, fuzz and drum pounding—no subtlety at all here.
One of the nicest things is that, even amongst all this noise, distortion and feedback, the songs have a catchy underpinning that make them quite memorable. Beneath the grime, there are definite hooks; rhythms and melodies that aren’t hard to pick up on, and make what could be a pointless racket an enjoyable listen.
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This particularly applies to the first track, “Sternum,” a stripped down nerve-shredding 12–minute dive into the night-black depths. Simply composed of squealing and humming electronics (but set at a low volume), sparse percussion and vocals that bleed anguish, it nevertheless touches nerves with its unaffected directness. The simple lyrical refrain of ‘I want to die with you’ does an effective job of exposing the horror of a personal hell of frustration and despair. Inwardly spiralling psychoses and mental phantasms assail from all sides, and whatever sliver of sanity or normality was there is finally eroded away. The deterioration and degradation is palpable. This is emotional despair and a mind at the end of its tether at its absolute rawest. Combined with that insistent insectoid squeal it drills itself right into the brain and sets the teeth on edge.
If “Sternum” is pain and anguish, then “Ribcage,” the second track, is about the aftermath, the eventual mental dissolution and destruction: a cacophonic maelstrom of screeching electronics and feedback, interspersed with screams; the swirling chaotic randomness portrays a mind breaking down into incoherent atomisation. This is what it must feel like to descend into the depths of the long night of the soul, or to stand on the threshold between safety on the one side and a bottomless chasm on the other. There comes a point where the track quietens down a degree or two, a place perhaps where that threshold exists, and one almost gets the feeling that all is not quite lost here. Any such illusion is soon shattered, as the track once more breaks out into a storm of noisiness. The only way is down into the illimitable and lightless subterranean depths.
The last track, “Lungs,” is a bit of a departure from the other two pieces, principally because it introduces the notion of rhythm. Rhythm is all the more surprising because of its complete absence anywhere else on here. However, extending what I have said above, I guess it makes a species of sense in its own way. I can imagine, after having plumbed the utmost deeps and having reached a kind of equilibrium, that the mind gets wrapped up in a mental inferno of its own making. Carpeting the primitive tribal rhythm is a thick layer of granular sheeting which is entirely descriptive of the furnace roar. Indeed, a self-created (and self-perpetuated) hellish purgatory.
Noise and power electronics only hold my attention if the artist has an approach that takes him/her off the well-trodden path. Fernow, while using the tools and palette of the genre, manages somehow to at least bend the material to do his bidding, and to attempt to say something new. For the most part I feel he amply succeeds, and listening to this was a welcome change to the Spinal Tap-style ‘turn everything to 11 and record what comes out the other end’ typical of the genre. In the course of writing about Arrowhead I must have heard it about a half-dozen times, and in every instance there was some new subtlety that revealed itself. Prurient is definitely one of the more creative of noise musicians, unwilling to blindly tread the same path as others do. On this example at least Fernow shows what can actually be done with noise, with a little thought and some creativity and talent.
Samples
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Immune Recordings is thrilled to announce that Micah Blue Smaldone has signed to the label. Hailing from Portland, Maine, he has just finished recording his third full-length album entitled The Red River to be released in November.
Micah is currently on the road for a month long tour with SubPop recording artist Death Vessel. In addition to performing his own set each night Micah will also be playing in the Death Vessel band.
Micah Blue Smaldone & Death Vessel 2008 Fall Tour
08.30 - Chicago, IL @ Schubas Tavern
08.31 - Grinnell, IA @ Gardner Lounge
09.03 - Vancouver, BC @ Media Club
09.04 - Seattle, WA @ The Tractor Tavern
09.05 - Portland, OR @ Doug Fir Lounge
09.06 - San Francisco, CA @ Bottom of the Hill
09.07 - Los Angeles, CA @ Spaceland
09.09 - Phoenix, AZ @ Modified Arts
09.11 - Denton, TX @ Rubber Gloves
09.12 - Austin, TX @ Emos Lounge
09.13 - Baton Rouge, LA @ Spanish Moon
09.14 - Atlanta, GA @ The Earl
09.16 - Chapel Hill, NC @ Local 506
09.17 - Washington, DC @ Black Cat Backstage
09.18 - Philadelphia, PA @ Johnny Brendas
09.19 - New York, NY @ Mercury Lounge
09.20 - Brooklyn, NY @ Union Hall
09.21 - New Haven, CT @ BAR Nightclub
09.22 - Vineyard Haven, MA @ Che's Lounge
09.23 - Providence, RI @ The Living Room
09.24 - Portland, ME @ SPACE (*** New Album Release show! ***)
09.25 - Boston, MA @ Harpers Ferry
09.26 - Turners Falls, MA @ The Rendezvous
"Micah Blue Smaldone sounds like a dead man... he taps into a vein of something real and present; a preternatural sensibility deep inside many post-millennial lost souls. This music is haunting, the notes and lyrics tugging the listener's soul as if you'd fallen into a sonic bramble patch." - Left Hip Magazine
Immune Recordings
PO Box 08410
Chicago, IL 60608
www.immunerecordings.net
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I first heard Parking Non-Stop about four years ago when they supported Einstürzende Neubauten in Dublin. Unfortunately on the evening I was running around like a headless chicken and could not get a chance to give them the attention they deserved. Listening now to Species Corridor and piecing together the glimpses of their performance in my mind, I feel a true magic in this band. Their combination of found sounds and field recordings with art pop music works surprisingly well, it sounds like the open ear of Scanner and the melodic ingenuity of Wire (but isn’t Githead!).
The music of Parking Non-Stop is about the ever changing shape and character of Europe. Their name comes from a signpost in Eastern Europe (if my memory serves me correctly), the label they are on is run by Jochen Irmler of Faust and their field recordings cover much of the topography of Europe. All these elements and facts brought altogether, Parking Non-Stop serve as documenters of what Europe was, what it now is and what it may be. Unlike many of the conservative politicians in Europe, there is an openness here to new Europe, its latest member states and the possibilities they bring. Like Kraftwerk depicted it on Trans-Europe Express (alluded to here on the superb “Trans-Siberska Express”), Europe is more than an economic super state; it is a chance for culture to breed and expand beyond physical borders.
Alan Holmes' service in Ectogram serves him well here, his guitar work is versatile and gentle (apart from the awesome and blistering solo on “City in the Intermediate Realm”). The melodies play well against the washes of sound created by Dewi Evans (on various keyboard and synth style instruments). Both provide a vivid space for Zoë Skoulding’s ethereal vocals to exist. Her voice sounds so human amidst these electronic devices and forms a bridge between the field recordings and the music. On the title track this synthesis of exotic recordings, music and voice is particularly powerful (and as the first piece on the album it is an exciting introduction to what is to come).
We all have friends who despair when we move towards the stereo with a new CD, invariably they find our latest purchases painful to listen to. Species Corridor is an album as much for those friends as it is for the average Brainwashed reader. It is a strange and beautiful album that sits comfortably both on the conceptual side of modern music and on the delightfully listenable side of things. It has been a long time coming but it has certainly been worth the wait.
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That demented folk sound that Padden usually employs is of course here in full. Mutated Eastern European scales and primal folk arrangements appear in various guises throughout the album. “Marseille Tape” (among quite a few other songs) utilises the cello playing of Peter Nicholson but Padden has edited the cello recordings down to create John Cale-esque string drones, propelling the other elements of the song like Cale’s viola propelled the Velvets on. Elsewhere Padden chops up the tracks almost arbitrarily in places, creating dreamy juxtapositions between shapeless recordings and songs.
Pause for the Jet has quite a different mood to the recent output by Padden’s One Ensemble, comparable in that they sound like they come from the same place but the music here has an intimate quality to them, the songs sound like wax cylinder recordings made by a crazy old recluse for his own amusement. For example, “Crow Crow Growth” sounds utterly strange and sincere. Overall the album is less flashy and probably will come an undeserved second to the One Ensemble releases as they are more obvious in their excitement. Many of the pieces feel like short sketches rather than finished compositions but that being said, this is certainly not just a collection of demos thrown together for a quick penny; there is a looseness to the recordings that sounds so playful, so warm.
Those familiar with Padden and Volcano the Bear have probably abandoned this review from the start so they can go and order it post-haste. That Padden has a Midas touch when it comes to music is no secret and anyone who is still with us (i.e. casual Volcano the Bear fans or welcome newcomers) who is on the fence about that group’s offshoots could do far worse than pick this up. For Volcano fans who have returned at this point, your money is well spent. This is one of those albums that although does not jump out screaming “Play me!” will provide much enjoyment and calm on the occasions it is noticed.
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