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Darla
Continental was a very sad album to listen through start to finish. To me it was like listening to somebody whose heart ached for that special someone to return and fill the void left behind when they departed. There was an emptiness right down the middle where something else belonged. While Robin is not joined by a lead vocal for Everlasting, there's a considerable amount of space filled in, making these four songs a far better listen than the 10 on the LP.
"Bordertown" opens the EP with a lush texture, and although it's rich and serene, the melody is quite repetitive and unjoined by opposing elements before the refrain. "Fountain," the other upbeat song on the disc has the sprinklings of organ and keyboard sounds that are new for me to hear on his works, and not offensive in the least. Guthrie is a fantastic gearhead: he still manages to achieve the best sounds possible and finds the perfect balance between all of the elements. As a composer, however, he is clearly still holding on to the verse-chorus-verse school of songwriting, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but if there's anything we've learned from the 1990s is that there are more challenging approaches to take when left without a singer.
While it's far more enjoyable than Continental, the problem still remains: there's no denying this sounds like a Cocteau Twins record without Simon and Liz. Although the music has more counter-melodic elements, even on the sparse closer "Everlasting" and the Victorialand-era sounding "A Sigh Across the Ocean," the sing-along-ability of a lead instrument is simply not here as well as the chugging bass lines which drove the best Cocteau Twins songs. It kind of makes me wonder if all these songs from the LP and EP weren't started in the hopes for a Cocteau Twins reunion following that ill-fated live festival appearance which never took place.
I do have hope, however, as it sounds like Robin may have accepted the fact that Continental sounded very lonely. He's joined on Everlasting by collaborators on three out of four songs, so with any luck this trend will continue and something magnificent will come out of him. I'm not giving up.
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Hydra Head
Where guitar solos may have once reigned supreme, atmospheric use of heavily distorted guitar riffs and choral keyboards now stand proud. Where the once mighty explosion of double-bass barrages declared the rhythmic brutality of many metal acts, slow and precise drum machines now plod away and leave only heavy, recognizable tracts of groove in their paths. Black metal has always been a distant cousin to death metal, heavy metal, thrash, and all the various permutations that the name "metal" has given a home to; it was intended to be that way. There was always a recognizable link between black metal and its relatives, though, especially in the early days where some bands were mistaken for thrash or death metal when said bands meant to fly that black metal flag proudly. Malefic, however, has a mind to leave all that nonsense behind. His music isn't metal, it may not even be recognizable as black metal, but it is heavy and dark and for that reason most people probably won't care what it's called.
Malefic's attitude towards composition, melody, and rhythm, however, put him at a great distance from other head-pounding numbskulls who swear allegiance to racial pride, religious absolutism, and/or misogyny. His sense of space and openness make Subliminal Genocide a pleasure to hear, much less painful than I suspect he imagines it. "Disharmonic Convergence" opens the album with a lo-fi recording of a piano layered with the sound of human voices and thick reverberation. It's a soupy, thick arrangement that serves only as an introduction to the massive "Prison of Mirrors," the album's proper opening song. It runs nearly 13 minutes and kicks off with a vicious scream that announces the pain Malefic evidently feels just as well as his song titles do (with names like "Beauty Is Only Razor Deep" and "Arcane and Misanthropic Projection" can there be any doubt what these songs are about?). The drums are buried deep in the mix, less important than the slush of guitars and keyboards that clearly move together to form a kind of wall of melody. It's powerful, loud, and demented, yet it's clearly well developed, with peaks and valleys full of quiet interludes and giant swells. If anything this is a chamber piece for guitars, keyboards, and effects, not merely metal.
Malefic's voice sounds excellent and the people who fell in love with his performance on Sunn O)))'s Black One will be doubly pleased by his efforts on Subliminal Genocide. It's rocky, completely from the throat, as though he's been gargling quicksand and concrete for hours at a time before singing. The aforementioned "Arcane and Misanthropic Projection" features one of the nastiest vocal performances I've ever heard, Malefic sounding as though he's being tortured slowly by the noise surrounding him. That song, too, completely flies over the head of black metal and soars off into it's own territory. I just can't bring myself to imagine this as metal performance; the theatrics and enormous range of ideas that the Xasthur project employs don't exactly fit well into any category I can think of. The almost acoustic interludes and classical themes that this album contains has more in common with some of Burzum's more oddly ambient tracks, but are also far more musical and less repetitive. The bleak attitude Malefic takes might, for some, place him in the same league as other long haired, corpse paint sporting, wizard obsessed wankers, but his vocal performances, melodic sensibilities, and his understated, simple, and effective arrangements place him far ahead of almost every black metal band I've ever heard. That's because Xasthur is willing to incorporate more influences into his music than any of his contemporaries are. As such he's a hell of a lot more exciting and lot more interesting to listen to.
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Pummeling and abrasive, the album opens with a piercing scream that incites the band to unleash their fury. The guitar is crisp and angular, the bass nasty and gutteral, and the drums quicken the pulse with stringent emphasis. The band excels at switching gears with tempo changes and noisy asides that invigorate the main riffs when they return.
Because of the tone of the guitars, the fullness of the drums, and the structure of some of the songs, my first impression was that the group takes more than a few cues from The Jesus Lizard, although some of that can be attributed to the way Steve Albini recorded and mixed this material. Yet the band is far from merely imitative and has a strong sense of dramatic delivery to complement the vocals of singer Julie Christmas, and it’s her stylistic variations that give the songs their personality. Not only does her melodic approach change from song to song, but she also never rests on formula or cliché for articulation. In addition to having a number of different screams at her disposal, she’s seemingly possessed by evil spirits on “Mandatory Bedrest,” and whispers child-like on the beginning of “Death in April.” On “Out” she proves she’s not afraid to shred her vocal cords for the sake of the song. One of the tracks is a brief, instrumental lullaby that provides respite before the storm continues on “Mr. Prison Shanks,” with its weirdly beguiling riff. “Gunt” starts slow and brooding before the band erupts for the album’s harrowing finale.
The group isn’t afraid to take chances, from the songwriting to the cringe-inducing cover art, and it’s a risk that pays dividends. As unsettling as their exploration of dark subject matter can be, it’s also perversely pleasurable and cathartic.
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Blossoming Noise
Despite the brutish entry "First Movement" makes, Elementalitiesis undoubtedly a more polished and reserved recording than anything I've heard from this multi-faceted percussionist. The source material for this album is from a performance in October of 1990 at the Wang Concert Hall in Amsterdam. It was originally released by Soleilmoon and is here reconsidered by z'ev. The information provided in the rather beautiful and austere booklet relates a connection between the music and the first thirteen verses of Proverbs Chapter 30, which z'ev refers to as "The Oracle of Blood." References to the number 1440 also suggest some relation between this recording and the sometimes mystical attitude taken towards numbers in religion. Each of the movements is provided a single page full of text and each of these pages makes some reference to a mysterious "Her," perhaps of an animal nature. All of the text fits quite nicely with z'ev's processed drums, echoed rattles, and deep reverberations, but it's difficult to understand just how closely they tie into the original performance. There is a sense that z'ev is trying to say something about the nature of re-approaching music and establishing some new connection with it. That connection, however, is never clearly defined nor explained.
The music itself seems stationary, confined to the same series of movements for the duration of its existence. It sounds as though all of the percussive energy z'ev normally releases has been amassed into the same place and allowed to roll down a very steep hill. Sounds unfold out of each other, all of them primarily metallic, but it's difficult to discern just how much of the source material has been edited and how much has been left alone. What is evident is that the music begins to sound tame at some point, turning inward instead of exhibiting the kind of bombast I've heard from z'ev, especially the material available on the collection One Foot In the Grave. Many of the percussive sounds that would have jumped or stung had they been left untouched now sizzle and rumble, unraveling where they might have attacked.
It isn't completely unsatisfying, however, but it is a bit surprising to hear z'ev work in this mode. By "Ninth Movement" it is unclear whether or not this is meant to keep my attention or provide background sound for some other purpose. It is enjoyable, but not ear catching, and it certainly feels less tangible or immediate. The jump from unprocessed, purely percussive performance to edited and processed sound steals an edge away from z'ev that I didn't even recognize as primary to his work until now.
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Black Tar Prophecies shows a new side to Grails. Previous to this I’ve found them quite boring: a post-rock band in the most clichéd sense. Having lost their violin player (quite literally, he’s gone missing) they have had to reassess their way of playing. The rapid shift in direction has benefited their development, however. They explore a wide variety of styles to create a psychedelic mood with a vaguely eastern hue to most of the music. There’s even a deliciously dirty jazz quality that rears its head from time to time, most noticeably on “Bad Bhang Recipe” which has a touch of Barry Adamson about it.
The album has an extremely clean sound to it (even the fuzzed out guitar). The production and mix have been very sympathetic to the music. “Back to the Monastery” sounds like Grails are playing live in the room while “Black Tar Frequencies” shows more evidence of postproduction which don’t sound like they were just tacked on, the echo added to all the percussion instruments suits the mood of the piece perfectly. The production isn’t too pristine; the warmth of the instruments is still preserved.
Two pieces stand out on Black Tar Prophecies: “Stray Dog” and the title track. Guitars, bouzouki and banjo create a swirling, hypnotic and hallucinogenic rapture. It's fantastic enough to make me wish it was at least five times as long. “Black Tar Prophecy” amalgamates all the different musical threads from the previous tracks. I don’t have as many adjectives for it as I do for “Stray Dog” but it is a powerful piece nonetheless. Grails pick up the pace on this piece compared to most of the other tracks which are more laid back. It’s a nice, uplifting way to end the album.
Black Tar Propechies is a great release and I now regret not getting the original 12” releases when they came out as I would have loved to have had more time with this music. At this point, it is hard to find those vinyls now and I would hate to have to get the same music again for the two songs not on the first two volumes. As it stands, Grails have definitely earned my admiration with this release and if it’s not in my top albums of the year I’ll be very surprised.
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With this being Nate Young’s (Wolf Eyes) label, this record is unsurprisingly populated with his extended musical family. Dead Machines, Burning Star Core, Failing Lights, Graveyards, Aaron Dilloway and Religious Knives all do their thing, sometimes cutting some of their finest work to date here. The sound, on a technical (‘ooh look at my posh separates stereo’) level, is, as expected with this line-up, uniformly atrocious. But whoever truly cares about getting music only via carefully crafted sound are probably not going to be checking out any of these acts anyway. Combined with that lathe edge, the sound has a border of murkiness and static that only adds to its subterranean feel. The worlds of broken machine where man and weed meet in basements across America.
Amongst the consistently incredible tracks is another in the great run of Failing Lights' subtler material, a woozy Graveyards session and the greasy smeared musical imprint of Charlie Draheim. Snuck away inside these tracks is a recording of NASA chatting to the original moon landing crew, although I have no idea why. This piece very quickly becomes a mild irritant to an otherwise perfect recording, apart from this though the album stands a definitive cross section of a multi-faceted genre.
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This is the final instalment in D_Rradio’s 7" trilogy for Distraction records, so it’s only right it be seasoned with melancholy. These two hybrid organisms continue this series' flow by excavating stratums of colorful electronic music through fragmented arrangements.
“Out of Love”s cranked slo-mo start blossoms into life as the loosest track yet in this series, the breaks and warm sliding guitar part held together with sticky tape. The glitchy beginnings of “You Hold my Breath” quickly give way to what appears to be a seemingly slow build. Over the length of the track it becomes apparent that it’s never going to reach its fulminating moment. Held together with wobbly rivets, much like the flipside “Out of Love”, it moves without a real structure. The elements of synth and flickers of sitar may never gain a strong enough foothold in an obvious melody, but the song remains startlingly fresh. Bizarrely, in its dying moments it picks up a New Order styled vibe but cracks up and skitters out.
The brief glimpse may be a hint of a new direction, something a little more pop / song orientated, or it could be just the way the layers fell.
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I find it strange that Arthur Russell has been claimed by the intellectual beard-stroking crowd that characterizes the staff and readership of pubs such as The Wire, because Russell produced at least as much music that was unashamedly pop as that which could be considered "avant-garde" in his lifetime, probably more. Although he was associated with The Manhattan School of Music and "serious" composers such as Philip Glass, he seemed to spend most of him time merging these more academic techniques with the music that he loved—disco, symphonic pop and new wave. Almost all of the music that Russell recorded falls somewhere in the middle of the number line where the strict modern classical avant-garde approach is the rightmost point, and the unabashedly populist spirit is the lefmost extreme.
The 15 excerpts that comprise Instrumentals Vols. 1 & 2, which take up most of disc one, are no exception. Although these pieces were created through semi-composed, semi-improvised sessions including some of NYC's biggest downtown art music heavyweights (Rhys Chatham, Jon Gibson, Peter Zummo, etc.), and were originally intended as site-specific mixed-media compositions to accompany photographic wall projections by artist Yuko Nonomura, the music itself is anything but abstract or difficult. In fact, it sounds like a breath of fresh air. A beautiful spontaneous outpouring of all of the most bright, saccharine symphonic gestures. It sounds not unlike the lush musical backdrops created by Brian Wilson and his session musicians for Pet Sounds and SMiLE, vibrant orchestral compositions that effortlessly combine Gershwin's Americana with the teenage symphonies of Phil Spector. Russell's midwestern background informs this music, much of it alive with the wonder of frontier America, with cascading melodies and flourishes that feel resplendent and celebratory. Russell himself, in the included notes, seems to dismiss the idea that these pieces are meant to be avant-garde: "My desire was to simulate the popular radio sound...I feel it demonstrates a movement and sequence that hints at the popular radio sound of the future."
These 15 tracks are excerpts from much longer improvisations, each especially chosen and sequenced by Russell, though only Instrumentals Vol. 2 was ever released during his lifetime (on Belgium's legendary Les Disques Du Crepuscule label in 1984), and in a very limited LP run that was incorrectly mastered. Because these are excerpts, the music often unceremoniously fades out in the midst of an interesting groove, and though I am sure this was done this for a very good reason, it might be interesting to hear an unexpurgated session. Considering the fact that these are live performances from 1975-77, the tapes have held up remarkably well, and the recordings are beautifully crisp, with each instrument audible in the mix. Appended to disc one is a piece entitled "Reach One," composed for two Fender Rhodes (guitar and piano), recorded in 1975. Comprising nearly 17 minutes of ambient meandering, its the most experimental moment across these two discs, but is nonetheless approachable on its own terms, as an evocative, if minimal, amelodic excursion mapping the face of a distant moon.
Tower of Meaning is not as immediately seductive and listenable as Instrumentals, a seven-movement piece composed by Russell and conducted by Julian Eastman in 1981. It was released in a tiny edition in 1983 and has been out of print ever since. Austere strings and horns create an overwhelming sense of gravity, an elegiac feeling that pulls slowly along like a tugboat down the East River. More than anything else Russell recorded, Tower of Meaning sounds like what is usually suggested by the term "modern classical," a serious composition using a classic instrumental palette. However, there are moments when Russell approaches the pastoral Americana feel of Instrumentals, for instance when the delicate fingerpicked violin melody emerges on track four, or when percussive elements appear in the final, sidelong movement, tying together all of the themes introduced in the first six segments. All in all, its a fascinating piece that rewards repeat listenings, but will no doubt seem alienating to someone checking out Russell because they heard "You and Me Both" on college radio.
Rounding out the second disc is a 10-minute piece called "Sketch for the Face of Helen," a previously unreleased piece by Russell performed entirely on a keyboard and tone generator. Without his beloved cello at his side, Russell is out of his comfort zone, but he still ends up producing an expressive and mesmerizing piece, using the squishy, alien tones of the synthesizer to create a hypnotic progression that suggests the microscopic contours of a human face as viewed through an electron microscope. First Thought, Best Thought is certainly not for the casual Arthur Russell fan, but it is vital proof of the breathtaking scope of the artists' work, and further testament to his Renaissance Man approach both to pop and avant-garde musics.
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Many of the songs could have been themes for old sit-coms with their lackadaisically simple and optimistic melodic statements that evoke a mostly contented nostalgia. Yet a lot of their finer details are blurred by the wheezing horns of Maher Shalal Hash Baz. There are times when the group sounds like a high school marching band practicing for a big performance, which makes for some purposefully awkward moments. Sometimes slow to the beat and out of tune, it’s these imperfections that give the compositions their unique flavor.
Most of the songs are instrumentals, but not all. Kudo’s wife Reiko sings on “On the Beach Boys Bus” and “Time Takes Me So Back,” the melodies of which both came to Wells in dreams. Her voice is frail and light, lending the songs a tender, melancholic quality. Reiko does get a chance to lighten things up on “Cowtail Calypso,” dispelling some of the sadness before revisiting it in “On the Beach Boys Bus (Reprise),” which closes the album.
This disc does suffer a little from a sameness in approach on many of the songs, and the nostalgic elements are consistent reminders of a similar pop era, but the shortness of the tracks keeps them from wearing out their welcome. The collaborators prefer gauze to precision, and brevity to repetition. This combination produces an album that’s both familiar and surreal, and while not terribly long, still manages to make an impression on the psyche.
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LTM
As fascinated as I am by early electronic music and by the use of noise as a musical element in any composition, the theories and conceptual framework developed by Filippo Tommaso Marinetti at the beginning of the 20th century never drew me firmly into the fold of Futurist thinking or electronic music. That it was almost undoubtedly tied to fascist politics also served to distance me from its machinations. The movement has undoubtedly influenced ensuing generations of artists and musicians, though. Just take a look at the cover for this album and the cover of New Order's Movement and the causal chain should become absolutely apparent (not to mention the robotic costumes that have been employed by various surrealist and dadaist innovators alike, all from the forward-looking artists of the Futurist era).
Franco Casavola represents a musically reserved and, dare I say, more classical approach to music: the Futurism in his work, though I am incapable of understanding Italian, must lay somewhere in the poetry and lyrics that make up much of this disc. Daniele Lombardi and Susanna Rigacci were employed to perform what were thought to be lost compositions from this Futurist-turned-anti-Futurist composer. Composed entirely of piano and Riggaci's lovely soprano voice, Futurlieder is a collection of different song cycles, advertising jingles (supposedly for Campari), cabaret pieces, and lyrical songs. Surprisingly, these are all pieces where the "experimental" aspects of the compositions are lost in the gentle wandering of idyllic piano and the powerful flow of high voices throughout. To my ears, anyone who can enjoy the pleasant talent of operatic performers and the simple ease of relaxing, solo piano pieces will enjoy this. I am by no means an expert of classical forms, styles, or theory, but this music is soft, gentle, and enjoyable in every aspect.
Casavola's real genius, then, would stem from his ability to write songs that have survived time just as well as the best classical composers. Unfortunately for supporters of Futurist ideals, that would mean any great composer of any era was Futurist in some sense, writing music resilient enough to survive long periods of times and severe changes in musical consciousness. Everything from his "Tango Viola da 'Cabaret Epilettico'" (a tango for an "Epileptic Cabaret") to his Tankas cycle is resonant with a playfulness that feels current and vibrant, alive despite its age. His poetic approach to topics, such as on his La Sera ("Evening") cycles, is always appropriate and harmonious, the concept matching the music superbly.
The liner notes provided by LTM are excellent, providing a competent, informative, and brief account of the composers life, works, and influences. An account of Casavola's literary work is also provided for anyone interested in the conventions and ideals he subscribed to. LTM's website contains a complete list of the music included on this disc as well as biographical information about this composer.
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Inoxia
There is an 20 twenty minutes of music not found on the original LPs (40 if you’re playing the discs separately). The new piece, “Loose”/”Red,” opens the album. The piece is a slow burner, it takes nearly quarter of an hour for it to get going properly. On Disc Drone “Loose” is a shimmering drone that is mainly high pitched feedback and cymbals. “Red” on Disc Evil fills out the lower end of the sound with the band playing in a style similar to that found on Earth’s Hex album of last year. Combined it makes a powerful piece, separately they both lose their impact.
The next piece, “Giddiness Throne”/”Evil Wave Form,” doesn’t work as well as the first. The rock out disc is more beefed up but it doesn’t sync up with the drone disc as seamlessly as the first piece. “Evil Wave Form” on its own works perfectly well as a standard Boris riffathon. It’s only about halfway through when the overdrive is turned off that the drone fits in with the rocking out. Once the overdrive comes back on the drone goes through patches of sounding great and sounding annoying.
The final piece, “Interference Demon”/”The Evilone Which Sobs,” sees the two discs working great together again. Disc Drone contains a fierce sounding drone (again occupying the high end of the frequency spectrum) that is totally at odds with the subdued opening segment of “The Evilone Which Sobs.” When the piece kicks off it is face meltingly good. It’s well worth the hassle of moving the spare CD player into a position that you can hit play on both systems at the same time.
Dronevil –Final- is a cracking album but pointless if you’re not going to do it properly with two stereos. Even though the discs can be played separately, it’s only together that they shine. I suppose they could be mixed together but then the fun of having four speakers around a room blasting from different directions is lost.
samples:
- Evil Wave Form
- Interference Demon (play simultaneously with the mp3 below)
- The Evilone Which Sobs (play simultaneously with the mp3 above)
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