- Matthew Amundsen
- Albums and Singles
To be honest, I didn't care for a lot of the vocals on this album. Lackadaisical and sometimes purposefully off-key, many of these would have benefited from another take or two. The lyrics are quirky but too often fall on the sillier side of absurdity, and because of this it can be hard not to dismiss them entirely. Even so, there are a couple of the more conventional songs that I like, such as "Bottle of Rum," "Rehab," and the haunting "Arabella Sabotage."
While the acoustic guitar playing on the album is more or less standard fare, a lot of the other music is quite enjoyable when the group indulges their experimental tendencies, like when they drone, groan, and moan with horns, chains, and electronics on the instrumental "He Brings the Hatchet in the Evening." I like them best when they engage with their environment directly, as is the case on "Boxcar Gamelan" when they and 'various drunk strangers' bang out layers of snaking rhythms. Even the minor contributions from "Guy on Street" explaining that everyone has certain guaranteed rights or discussing the jungle rot from Vietnam on his feet give a good sense of place through the people that inhabit it. Yet this album isn't quite the tour of subterranean Atlanta that I had hoped for, and I can't help but feel that it misses an opportunity to share the city's weirdly unique culture with a wider audience.
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New Zealand has long been home to a remarkably diverse population of experimental musicians, and this excellent compilation collects tracks from some notable examples. While many of these names are doubtlessly familiar, this recording represents a significant break with New Zealand's past musical giants and instead looks boldly to the future.
Although this compilation consists of only ten tracks and even repeats a couple of artists, for what it lacks in numbers, it easily compensates in quality. Considering that it contains such a disparate selection of musicians, it maintains an admirable consistency. As different as they are, the selection and sequencing of tracks play to each other's strengths so well that it's not implausible that the songs all could have sprung from the same group. Patiently eclectic, the collection doesn’t try to forcibly shift the focus in any way but instead lets it unfold organically with each track.
Campbell Kneale's Birchville Cat Motel kicks things off with what is arguably the compilation's noisiest and most forceful track, "Skies Crimson Tears." The charged guitars, pulsing rhythm, and electric drones are more or less what I have come to expect, and this one doesn't disappoint. "Unknown Rembetika," Greg Malcolm's first of a pair of tracks, incorporates Eastern scales and multiple guitars with mystical results. While mostly instrumental, there are a couple of songs with vocals, the first being "Bold/Old" by Pumice. Another is GFrenzy's "Mouth of Bloody Vengeance," which uses distorted elements to great effect and is over much too soon. Antony Milton, who released a fantastically heavy double-disc album as Myrtu! last year, contributes a subterranean vibe with his riveting song, "Drawn Out Fighting." In contrast, Leighton Craig's "Hymn for Agnes Martin" is pleasantly soothing. Peter Wright closes the disc with "Another Gate," deftly combining his 12-string guitar with field recordings to end things on a contemplative yet inspired note. There is quite a bit of cross-pollination going on here, like when Stefan Neville of Pumice and Leighton Craig work together as Blowfly Saint, Pumice's recording of the GFrenzy-penned "Stars," or even the fact that Milton has previously released music by most of these artists on his label Pseudo Arcana. Still, there is no immediate commonality among them, and that this small group of musicians can come up with such distinctly different music is impressive.
Rarely do compilations hold up so well as this one does, and part of the reason may be because the inclusions here reflect a highly selective curatorial process at work, one that doesn't try to overwhelm or impress with sheer quantity. Since this is only a small sampling of the variety of unconventional music to be found in New Zealand, here's hoping that subsequent volumes aren't too far behind.
samples:
- Birchville Cat Motel - Skies Crimson Tears
- Greg Malcolm - Unknown Rembetika
- Leighton Craig - Hymn for Agnes Martin
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Laurent Baudoux of Belgium's Scratch Pet Land goes solo with this boisterous new project. Taking the kitchen sink approach to cheap electronics, Baudoux throws gameboys and primitive keyboards alongside guitars to create songs that are frequently catchy and fun.
The album is mostly free of self-consciousness and is dominated by a childlike sense of play. Video games are a common point of reference on many of these tracks, but for the most part they're used as a compositional element with enough conviction to keep their sources from being overwhelming or distracting. Additionally, the appearance of Quentin Hanon's distorted guitar on several tracks lends the songs an edgy excitement when necessary.
Among the album's highlights are the guest spots from Japan's MC Illreme, whose energetic contributions are a thrill to follow despite the fact that I don't understand Japanese. The best of these is easily "Rasclica." MC Illreme's rapping over Baudoux's insistent heavy beats makes the song the album's most captivating. While the shifting focus keeps things unpredictable, the album hits an occasional lull. "Waisvisz Beat" contains some squeaks and adds a beat later but nevertheless seems a little directionless, while "OK" sounds too much like an unadulterated video game soundtrack to hold my interest. Things pick up with the return of MC Illreme, whose infectious enthusiasm rescues the album from its brief bout of the doldrums and restores it to its former glory.
Baudoux gets the most out of his instruments, and his innocent attitude toward playing them infuses the songs with enough vitality to keep the album entertaining apart from a digression or two. There is very little attitude or pretension at work here, and that goes a long way toward making this album the enjoyable, spirited romp that it is.
samples:
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Norwegian noisehead Lasse Marhaug clearly has an affinity for the cassette tape and the underground culture that went with it. So I have no doubt he compiled Tapes 1990-1999 with some sense of trepidation, going from that lo-fi handmade scene to the world of professionally manufactured digital recordings. At the same time, however, it is a testament to his art and talent that those hand dubbed tapes are now being presented as a beautifully packaged four disc boxed set, complete with a 24 page booklet of essays and reproductions of tape artwork.PicadiskIn the early days of the noise "scene," cassette tape was the great equalizer. Unlike pressing vinyl or CDs, anyone with a cheap recorder and a few bucks could release an album, usually complete with low resolution photocopied artwork. Nostalgia aside, few people could really claim to miss the hissy low fidelity sound, the unreliability of most tape decks (nothing worse than getting a brand new tape "eaten"), and even on the artist end, surely the speed of modern CDR burners is a godsend when compared to the length of time it took to do real-time dubs.
While the fidelity of noise recordings may seem oxymoronic to some, the tracks across these discs sound very clean and clear. Sequenced in chronological order, the first disc captures his early work as Herb(ert) Mullen (and a few tracks as Egoproblem). This early material shows a novice at work, sometimes sustained fuzz roar ("Untitled") to spastic tape splicing of belching, random speed metal and dialog bits ("Delirium Acutum"). Other experimentation is notable too, such as the junk percussion of "Skinpeel" and the minimal static meditation of "Out."
By the second disc Marhaug was using his own name, and had found his voice in the noise world, delivering brutal, subwoofer scraping noise exemplified on "Monster," which, at 28 minutes, takes up nearly half of the disc. This is not easy listening, but it is noise done right, full of channel-panning brutality and a subtle hint of texture that rewards repeat listening. Disc three shows him stretching his legs again and trying new things, retreating from sheer brutality to more experimentation, such as the mutilated jazz loops of "Untitled #2" and the silly tones of "Wish You A Merry Christmas."
The last disc (and most recent work) also shows this penchant for experimentation. The destroyed cheesy beat box loops of "Side B" are neither consistent with the in your face percussion of Wolf Eyes, nor are they at all reminiscent of anything vaguely labeled "electronic." The bizarre rhythmic loops of "Untitled" are similarly difficult to classify. There is no identifiable percussion sound but a rhythm is discernable nonetheless. The full on eardrum shattering noise is present as well: the full 20 minutes of "Miss Plastic Murgatroid's Red Metal Wet Dream" is well equipped to contribute to hearing loss for those who choose to go down that path.
The idea of five hours of pure noise might seem extremely daunting to all but the most hardened of harsh noise heads, but in truth, Marhaug's diverse approach to sonic destruction makes it more than just a pleasurable listen. Tapes is great opportunity to hear a prolific artist hone his craft, and is a great set as well. It's plenty harsh and painful as well for the biggest noise fans, complete with the power to alienate neighbors and friends.
samples:
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Steven Stapleton hates this record and for the greater part of the last quarter century has wanted to forget it existed. Thanks in part to Matt Waldron, Kevin Spencer, and the folks at Raash, his diabolical plot to condemn this album to the waste pits of history has failed. Insect and Individual Silenced has been given a spectacular re-issue complete with new artwork, a new mastering job, and some very limited, very peculiar extras.
Raash
Everyone that has wanted to has probably heard Insect and Individual Silenced. Bootlegs have been widespread since it was originally released/destroyed and there are plenty of digital copies of varying quality floating around communities all over the Internet, but I can safely say this is the best sounding copy I have ever heard. Kevin Spencer at Robot Records created a digital master of the album from his copy of the vinyl and each of the three tracks sound phenomenal. The opening boom of "Alvin's Funeral (The Milk Was Delivered in Black Bottles)" is bright and resonant as are all the various explosions and crashes of sound that populate the piece. There is virtually zero hiss across the album and the range of sounds populating the record are clear and distinct. Each of the three tracks are very distinct and feature some unconventional approaches to sound-craft, but they play together nicely and emphasize just how effective Stapleton was at producing incommensurable but enjoyable slabs of sound. That begs a question: why did Stapleton hate this so much in the first place?
I won't waste the time speculating, but it should be noted that this stands toe to toe with just about every other early Nurse with Wound record out there. Stapleton's non-logical sequencing and adoration for the unexpected come across loud and clear on every track, especially "Absent Old Queen Underfoot." The playfulness of "Alvin's Funeral" might seem like a classic Nurse with Wound utility, it has all the ingredients fans have come to love. "Absent Old Queen Underfoot," however, sounds bizarre even in this trio's hands. The hurricane flurry of snares and Jim Thrilwell's caustic noise fiascos all come together in a brew of masturbatory jazz, flatulence and inside jokes.
Such an approach to record making would probably damn most groups to hell with their complete disregard for the listener scoffed at, but there's little sign of pretense on the track. It may go on a little long, but in the end it's perhaps the biggest surprise on the record and sounds the least like Nurse with Wound. The album is somewhat transitory, a constantly dismantled sculpture that rests on no base and never forms any wholly distinct features and because of this it can feel somehow torn between total chaos and arranged nonsense. Homotopy to Marie did come next and, on the whole, sounded more coherent, even at its most discombobulated moments. Listening to Nurse with Wound working out some conceptual kinks is massively entertaining and the opportunity to have an official copy with all the notes and new features makes the rerelease worth it.
Matt Waldron has completely reworked the original artwork for this release, though the original is featured on the inside of the beautiful six-panel digipack that houses the disc. The walking corpses have mutated into a trio of cut open insects, various flora and phalluses growing from their withered bodies. The color is phenomenal and the entire package feels substantial; everything has been handled with consideration and care. A four panel insert is included with a note from Stapleton and a photograph of the United Dairies insert is included beneath the CD tray for near total completeness. All that could arguably be missing is the information included with the cassette release. If, however, you manage to obtain the special edition release, a real treat waits inside. As of the time of this writing, Raash records still has some copies of an edition that comes with the revamped artwork and the album as well as a series of high-quality postcards and a "framed insect." Included in this box is a frame playing host to various insects, identified, numbered, and signed. It might be the coolest "insert" included in a boxed set ever: it looks fantastic, adds a somewhat quirky feel to the whole package, and pretty much sends the entire release beyond the stratosphere in terms of quality, design, thoughtfulness, and impact. Both the standard and special editions are worthy entries in the Nurse with Wound catalogue and stand out as being of the finest rereleases ever made.
samples:
- Alvin's Funeral (The Milk Was Delivered in Black Bottles)
- Absent Old Queen Underfoot
- Mutilés de Guerre
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- John Kealy
- Albums and Singles
Green Mine are loud but much like their packaging, the noise is upbeat and not an exercise in endurance. Warm, fuzzy tones flow out of the speakers, interspersed with synth eruptions.
Each of the five short pieces on Ultra Rainbow are pleasant and uncluttered. This EP is a relaxing way to spend 20 minutes and fits nicely into a tea break or a short bus ride. It is unlikely to provide much value in terms of concentrated listening but as a meditative breather it is satisfactory.
Aside from the extra clout of having more volume, Ultra Rainbow reminds me of FM3's Buddha Machine in the way that the music is unobtrusive but subconsciously engaging. I do not notice myself listening to it but the room feels like an emptier, colder place when it ends.
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- Creaig Dunton
- Albums and Singles
In all honestly Michael Yonkers is from Minnesota, but that is beside the point, the label and Little Claw are Michiganders, so that's a fair enough lead-in. Yonkers is elderly by rock standards (one year younger than Bruce Gilbert) but is still churning out dirty, dissonant rock. The A side of this vinyl consists of two of his contributions, both are similar in their metronomic disco drum machine pulse, metaliic grinding (and home-made) guitar riffs. While "I Think" features vocals that are almost in line with ZZ Top, "The Drain" is pure instrumental sludge. It's not hard to see this as an antecedent of Big Black or Wolf Eyes.
The flip-side is Little Claw doing "Ice Age," hypnotic cyclical guitar riffs augmented with female vocals and oh-so-quiet drumming that just bursts forth towards the end. Both sides sound as clean as the waiting room of a back alley abortion clinic, but I don't think it could sound the same any other way.
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- Albums and Singles
"Nurtured in the arson-prone fatalism of Cleveland's DIY scene, 23-year-old Joe Williams, noise-rock dilettante and White Williams' mastermind, made a name for himself twice touring with Gregg Gillis (Girl Talk), Andrew Strasser, Frank Musarra (Hearts of Darknesses) and Luke Venezia (Drop the Lime). Together, through countless venues of ill-repute, they forced their cartooned audio effluvia in the ears of hapless art-students, transients and skin-heads. Inevitably, Joe was saved by pop music.
Smoke is his self-invented messiah. Recorded in various sublets over two years in Cleveland, Cincinnati, New York, and San Francisco, using a laptop, analog synths and a mutable selection of studio equipment, White Williams' first album is unapologetic pop that flirts with the vacuous nostalgia of the American dream; engaging ambiguous and schizophrenic instruments with impressionistic lyrics, driven by a casually heterosexual backbeat. Polished, familiar and addictive like the sound of sex in a futuristic hospital, Smoke portends a time where energy-drinking teenagers undress each other with night-vision goggles. As an amalgam of adolescent telepathy and mature awareness: White Williams is the soundtrack to our dreams of a lustful and indifferent prom night that lasts forever." -- Jeffrey Blocksidge
Tour Dates:
Wed. Sept. 12 Toronto, ON @ Phoenix w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Thu. Sept. 13 Montreal, QC @ La Tulipe w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Sat. Sept. 15 New York, NY @ Webster Hall w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Mon. Sept. 17 Philadelphia, PA @ Starlite w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Thu. Sept. 20 Charlottesville, VA @ Satellite Ballroom w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Fri. Sept. 21 Asheville, NC @ Orange Peel w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Sat. Sept. 22 Atlanta, GA @ MJQ Concourse w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Thu. Sept. 27 San Diego, CA @ Epicentre w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Fri. Sept. 28 Los Angeles, CA @ Echoplex w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Sat. Sept. 29 San Francisco, CA @ The Fillmore Auditorium w/ Dan Deacon, Girl Talk
Smoke Tracklist:
1. Headlines
2. In The Club
3. New Violence
4. Going Down
5. Smoke
6. The Shadow
7. Danger
8. I Want Candy
9. Fleetwood Crack
10. Route to Palm
11. Lice in the Rainbow
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A real treat for the burgeoning ranks of A Hawk And A Hacksaw fans, this strictly limited EP includes the first fruits of the duo’s blossoming relationship with a group of extraordinarily talented Hungarian folk musicians, who have come together under the name The Hun Hangár Ensemble to tour Europe with AHAAH this summer. Consisting of eight newly recorded and songs, both original and traditional, the EP serves as an introduction for both the listener and the artists themselves as they get to know each other, providing a platform from which music and ideas can evolve.
In addition to the CD, a 20-minute bonus DVD (An Introduction To A Hawk And A Hacksaw) documents the last two years of almost continuous touring by the original duo of Jeremy Barnes and Heather Trost, with behind-the-scenes insight into their travels across Europe, as well as some great live footage captured (by director Dave Herman) in Albuquerque and Santa Fe, New Mexico. Anyone not yet au fait with AHAAH’s blistering but delightfully intimate live performances would do well to sample some of the fun…
Jeremy and Heather’s first ensemble work came in 2006: their acclaimed third album, The Way The Wind Blows, was recorded with the help of celebrated Romanian brass band Fanfare Ciocarlia and fellow Albuquerque resident Zach Condon of Beirut.
Late in 2006 Jeremy and Heather, making an exploratory trip to Hungary, discovered Fonó, a music shop, venue and centre for Hungarian folk music based in the capital Budapest. Here they met musicians fluent not only in traditional Hungarian folk, but also in jazz and minimalism, with a real hunger to make original music using the palette of musical styles that they had acquired, and The Hun Hangár Ensemble was born.
Béla Ágoston, an open minded and highly influential character within the Budapest music scene, brings expertise on many an instrument including Hungarian bagpipes, the clarinet and the alto saxophone. Ferenc Kovács, who has played with Archie Shepp amongst others, was recruited for his outstanding ability on trumpet and violin. Zsolt Kürtösi’s talents lay with the upright bass and experience in traditional Hungarian and Transylvanian folk and klezmer, while a young maestro of the cymbalom (a dulcimer-like instrument central to traditional Hungarian music), Balázs Unger, completes the group. [For the European tour, the group will be augmented by British percussionist Alex Nielson]
Jeremy already had in mind the songs he wanted to record – a mixture of traditional Hungarian, Serbian, Romanian and klezmer melodies, as well as new compositions by himself and Heather - and brought rough drafts when he joined the ensemble to record in Budapest in December 2006. The Ensemble had just a week to lay down their parts before the tracks were brought back to AHAAH’s Albuquerque base for Jeremy and Heather to add their sections, once again supplemented by members of Beirut.
The songs were carefully chosen to showcase the individual prowess of each of the six musicians, in ensemble pieces (such as ‘Ihabibi’), duos (‘Kiraly Siritas’, featuring violin and cymbalom) and solo pieces (the virtuoso cymbalom of ‘Vajdaszentivány’). Perhaps most impressive of all is ‘Zozobra’, which features only Balázs (cymbalom) and Jeremy (everything else), and sounds like it ought to be soundtracking Buster Keaton…
There will be just 4,000 individually numbered copies of this release made available worldwide, in special gatefold card packaging, though it will also be available as a digital download worldwide from April 30.
The UK tour starts on May 5 in Oxford, and the ensemble will be playing around Europe throughout the summer. You can find an e-flyer for the UK tour here: http://www.theleaflabel.com/ahaah/flyer.html and a full list of tour dates on the Leaf website.
STOP PRESS: UK show with Fanfare Ciocarlia at the Barbican in London (May 30) just confirmed!
1. Kiraly Siratás (Trost)
2. Zozobra (Barnes)
3. Serbian Cocek (traditional, with additional melodies by Barnes/Trost)
4. Romanian Hora and Bulgar (traditional) live, somewhere in Europe, 2006
5. Ihabibi (traditional, with additional melodies by Barnes/Trost)
6. Vajdaszentivány (traditional Hungarian melodies)
7. Oriental Hora (traditional)
8. Dudanotak (traditional Hungarian bagpipe melodies)
A Hawk And A Hacksaw:
Jeremy Barnes (accordion, drums, glockenspiel)
Heather Trost (violin, viola, cello)
The Hun Hangár Ensemble:
Béla Ágoston (Hungarian bagpipes, clarinet, alto saxophone)
Zsolt Kürtösi (upright bass)
Ferenc Kovács (trumpet, violin)
Balázs Unger (cymbalom)
with special guests:
Mark Weaver (tuba)
Zach Condon (trumpet on 'Oriental Hora', ukelele, mandolin)
Paul Collins (bouzouki)
A Hawk And A Hacksaw – The Way The Wind Blows press:
“first-class folk” The Guardian
“ambitious, ethnically rich… suffused with Eastern flavours, his
kaleidoscopic approach – from mariachi brass to klezmer to European
traditionals – is vivid and startlingly diverse. There’s something
experimental and faintly trippy too. ‘God Bless The Ottoman Empire’ could be
George Harrison’s ‘Within You Without You’ snaking through an ancient
Turkish bazaar” 4/5 Uncut
“a glimpse of a different kind of music, one that’s both unexpected and
unfamiliar, and yet richly rewarding. Magnificent” Dotmusic
“music that starts in Eastern Europe, then stomps through every tradition
nearby… a passionate affair” Stool Pigeon
“a captivating ragbag mixture of styles that blends Barnes’s meandering,
vaudevillian songlines with plangent melodies of violinist Heather Trost”
The Daily Telegraph
“a fascinating experiment that leaves you wishing more rock bands would show such adventure” The Times
“Barnes and Trost obviously have a real feeling for the music and an
instinctive way of shaping it, building something quiet and unique… should
become required listening for attempting all such fusions” fROOTS
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The 21st century has been quite good to the dark prince of reggae, with labels such Basic Replay, Blood And Fire, Pressure Sounds, and Trojan all jostling with one another to bring his visionary work back into print. Based on the vital Rasta Communication album, this reissued dub set shows precisely why the late artist's catalog undeniably warrants such attention.
In the arts, dying before one's time commonly inflates his or her legacy disproportionate to actual contribution. In the case of reggae producer and vocalist Keith Hudson, who by 1984 (only in his late 30s) succumbed to cancer, nothing could be further from the truth. While he enjoyed Jamaican chart success early in his career for Big Youth and Ken Boothe, to name just a few, the music scene there never fully embraced his uniquely deep and gothic sound. Nonetheless, Hudson persevered with so many potent cuts for a number of his own imprints, the 7" singles from which continue to be highly desirable to collectors today. Virgin, which signed Hudson to a multi-album deal in the 70s, wanted to turn him into the next Bob Marley, though his work mined far murkier depths in significant contrast to that legendary singer’s sunnier style. While the thematically constructed Pick A Dub ranks as the pinnacle of his dub releases, Brand is possibly the most worthy contender for that title. Also known as The Joint, this album was peculiarly released in advance of its corresponding vocal set, the aforementioned Rasta Communication, still available from its original label Greensleeves. Therefore, Brand could alternatively be treated as a standalone album of subspace bass and subterranean echo, flecked with delectable bits of Hudson's arresting vocal.
The album kicks off with Hudson mournfully crooning about absent parentage on "Image Dub," whose walking bassline, restrained percussion, and wizened guitar and piano embellishments hold together the strained, weighty atmosphere spiraling above. "National Item" and "National Anthem," both dubs of "Rasta Country," present parallel options for the choosy selector, the latter of these more emaciated than actually versioned. The highlight of an already formidable album, "Felt The Strain Dub" takes an anthemic snippet of vocal and layers it over dripping melodic keys and a few perfectly timed snare hits. Compared to the rest of this set, "Musicology Dub" appears deceptively bright, as does "Highter Hights" which features a killer melodica melody and the welcome toasts of deejay President Shorty.
The decent booklet that accompanies this release offers a neat history lesson as well as quick guide for those familiar with Rasta Communication, indicating which versions come from tracks off that release. In addition, two heretofore unreleased vocal tracks separate this version from Pressure Sounds' previous reissue. Regrettably, several of Hudson's full lengths remain unavailable, including Torch Of Freedom (the hardest of hardcore New Order fans will know "Turn the Heater On") and later albums like Steaming Jungle. Continued healthy competition from reggae reissue labels will hopefully fill in these noticeable gaps. In the meantime, Brand should tide over devotees as well as introduce curious newcomers to the heavy overcast sounds of this dub dissident.
samples:
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The result of a collaboration between two of the UK's finest collage composers is at turns kitschy and whimsical, disorienting and satirical: a suite of kitchen-sink plunderphonic pop tunes that recall the best moments of classic collagists such as Orchid Spangiafora, John Oswald and Die Trip Computer Die.
Vickie Bennett's People Like Us has always tended towards camp: cut-ups of cartoon noises, educational records from the 1950s, advertisements for Lycra Spandex, corny library music and generic soundtrack pieces ironically recalling a bygone era. So far, Ergo Phizmiz's strategy has been much the same, although his soundworld often takes in organic forms and original instrumentation, such as the brass band that enlivens many of his recent performances. Together, Bennett and Phizmiz create a Frankensteinian assemblage of strange cultural and temporal hybrids: mutilated oom-pah, demented intonarumori, Dixieland jazz blurts and slapstick noises. This much would have been expected, but what wasn't expected was that each of these loony patchworks would be massaged into fully-fledged, structured pop songs, complete with vocals by Bennett and Phizmiz.
Vocal plunderphonic pop does have precedents, but PLU and Ergo Phizmiz create something altogether unique on Perpetuum Mobile, occupying a stubborn middle place between avant-garde sound sculpture and populist pastiche. The opener "Ghosts Before Breakfast" is a case in point, a jaunty sing-along combining flatulent horns with Harry Partch-esque junk percussion, cuckoo clocks and digital fuckery. Over this joyous mess, helium-voiced falsettos sing: "I'd like some dinner, cause I missed my breakfast/I'm ever so hungry, and it's such a sunny day." It doesn't make much sense, but it's undeniably infectious, the layers of loops and samples creating a shambolic din that nonetheless coalesces into timeless pop songcraft. "Social Dancing" samples what sounds like recordings of indigenous children singing, matching the vocals up with Loony Tunes fanfares and retro Hawaiian jazz probably recorded for a 1950s tourist LP. The result is hilarious, but also fascinating: far more than the sum of its parts. It begs to be deconstructed and analyzed, even as it becomes clear that this analysis would reveal no logic behind its construction, beyond a painterly sense of composition.
Although PLU have been at this for years, the techniques of plunderphonia have, in recent years, become quite ubiquitous, especially in the world of HipHop and dance music. There are many recent plunderphonic acts operating under the guise of the mashup DJ or turntablist, using recycled loops from pop music and vintage LPs to produce collages that juxtapose the familiar with the surprising. The difference between these newer acts and Perpetuum Mobile, however, is that Bennett and Phizmiz seem genuinely uninterested in reproducing familiar pop cultural tropes, and instead seek to find ways to approach familiar sounds and musical modes laterally, highlighting not just their absurdity, but often their hidden political dimensions as well. "Air Hostess" repurposes goofy lounge music, splicing in Nelson Riddle's theme to Lolita, gradually ratcheting up the frenetic pace of the track with samples of bachelor pad mambo and 1950s MOR string records. The result is the kind of kitschy patchwork one might expect, but with an added undercurrent of dread, an atmosphere that emerges from the outmoded status of useless and vapid pop culture signifiers that have lost all meaning, if indeed they had any to begin with.
There is so much going on across the 18 tracks making up Perpetuum Mobile that it would be impossible to touch on everything, but suffice to say that this collaborative album is one of the best of its breed: full of audacious, kaleidescopic pop assemblages that slyly comment on the ephemeral nature of music as commodity.
samples:
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