Followers of Michael Gira's storied career might have anticipated his latest work with The Angels of Light as a natural reduction of his emotional approach to songwriting to its most basic form.
- Jonathan Dean
- Albums and Singles
Low-fidelity versions of these songs—studio recordings that would have comprised Judee's follow-up to 1973's Heart Food—have been floating around for years on bootleg cassettes and file-sharing services. Water went the extra mile, however, recruiting indie superstar and self-professed Judee Sill fanatic Jim O'Rourke to complete the mix on these eight tracks and make them into a proper album. O'Rourke could not have been a better choice for this task, not only because of his obvious love for Sill's music but also because of his production acumen, and that crisp, high-fidelity 1970s rock sheen that characterizes his production work for Sonic Youth, Wilco and others, which perfectly imitates the Laurel Canyon sound of Judee's first two LPs. Comparing these newly mixed versions with the bootlegs, it is clear that O'Rourke has done an excellent job delineating each instrumental track, deftly underscoring Judee's vocals and the soaring church choir backup. Other than bolstering the fidelity of the songs, O'Rourke seems to have pretty much stayed out of sight, showing the proper respect to his idol's work. These eight songs were composed when Sill was convalescing after a series of drastic back operations, and while they are not nearly as strong as the material on her pair of classic LPs, they are still quite impressive. Mystical Christianity is still her main lyrical obsession, and these songs deal with her physical and spiritual pain through uplifting, hopeful lyrics about transcendence, transfiguration and resurrection. A clear emphasis on eschatological themes—songs like "Apocalypse Express" and "The Good Ship Omega"—make this brief, final album very haunting, especially in light of Judee's tragic and untimely death by accidental or intentional heroin overdose. Despite these dark undercurrents, all the indicators on these songs point to hope and spiritual vivacity, especially the opener "That's the Spirit," a rollicking number on piano in which Judee is joined by churchly voices in a resounding hymn to the ascendancy of the soul. "Til Dreams Come True" is another winning song, this time a slower ballad with cryptically beautiful religious symbolism throughout the lyrics: "Assembling a dream/And in each one a manger is seen/Where the dark by the spark is redeemed/While milk through the firmament streams/Over all we do/'Til dreams come true." In addition to demo versions of a few of the songs on the album, this generous package also contains a second disc which collects rare demos, outtakes and home recordings, including a marvelous solo piano performance by Sill ("Oh Boy the Magician"), combining her love for Bach and Mahler with the light jazz and pop idiom that informed the majority of her songwriting. Also included is a 15-minute Quicktime video of Judee performing a live set of her best songs outdoors at a California university in 1973. It's a real treat to have this rare material collected in one place, even despite the understandable technical limitations of much of it. The packaging is also exemplary, containing a massive 68-page booklet filled with insights and interviews with those closest to Judee, as well as extensive biographical information and rare photographs. Dreams Come True is a lovingly rendered tribute to a marginal but extraordinary artist, and it's the one to beat for makers of deluxe reissues and box sets. -
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- Andrew Culler
- Albums and Singles
This is the second collaboration between these two iconoclasts, the first being last year's too-short Tinnitus Vu: the duo's hiss-laden meditation on hearing loss and the dynamics of sound after sound stops.Tocsin works within a similar sound palette, becoming a longer group of compositions that are also more minimal. Tinnitusfeatured conceptually efficient sonic pile-ups: alienating meshes ofcrisp percussive noodling and phantom piano, reorganized digitally byZ'ev to the level of sonic negation, the music itself slipping behind aveneer of white noise emptiness. Tocsin again finds Jackmanbehind the piano and Z'ev operating some resonant steel instrument, butthe playing, even after the individual artist mixes (Z'ev for the firstseven tracks, "-6" through "0," and Jackman for the final "1" and "2"),feels like more of a trade-off: a see-saw between two more distinctvoices. An unhurried atmosphere prevails; the musicians content tomeander through what feels more like an impromptu jam session thananything else: Z'ev winding out steely, gong-like drones as Jackmanlets his chords fall in a determined and mournful slowness. Both thelength of these sessions and their haphazard result strike me as veryatypical of Organum, but it is admittedly pleasing to hear Jackman inan environment where not every second counts. The recording itself alsofeels immediately more intimate than the prior collaboration orJackman's work as a whole. It has been consciously edited with bits ofthe duo chatting amidst a prevailing amount of tape hiss that sounds atfirst like the by-product of poor equipment but which evolves intoprecise and manufactured intervals. Z'ev's tracks especially utilizethe tape sound to flesh out an ironic foreign quality in theinstrumental dialogue, freeing it from a real time perception. Hestretches Jackman's piano into echoed calls and distant moans,entwining along a cascade of scraped, rubbed drones and hollow chorusesof soothing feedback. This is the least abrasive music I've heard fromZ'ev, lacking any percussive punch or even the textural maneuverabilityof Tinnitus. Organum's two private mixes are much less complex,the first almost 15 minutes of barren piano sketches with perfectlydistant gong-like decays matching the piano's desperate march forward.Jackman's second and final track is almost identical, untreated pianoup-front with untreated metal washes this time in slow and gentlecrescendo until both drift into silence. If anything here comes closestto replicating the original performances it is Jackman's section,beautifully recorded and a real pleasure despite its one-dimensionalityand its relative inconsistency with the artist's successes to date.While not a benchmark in the history of either artist, Tocsinallows a view of both moving in slightly different currents than theyare accustomed, and the disc is important despite the lack of a moreconcise collaborative product. It's nice also to see that Die Stadt iscontinuing to press reasonably priced Organum CDs; hopefully this willcontinue.
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- Jim Siegel
- Albums and Singles
This concept mini-CD accurately represents its subject, massiveplane/boat hybrids known as ekranoplanes, in sound. Dmitri Della Faille(Szkieve)'s passion for his material is evident on this 22 minutehomage to, and study of, these anomalies of Russian scientifictechnology. The opening "Le Songe de R.E.A." evokes an ominous mood,conjuring up images of the metal beast preparing for take off. Sharp,shrill electronic tones and analog synthesizer miasma cut through thesounds of slowly chiming bells. "Le S.M. 2P" focuses on whirring andchugging sounds that recall those made by an engine working to keep thelarge entity afloat or aflight. The cycling rhythmic patterns andsteady moaning tones of "Le K.M." mimic the steady flight of thevehicle soaring through the air as a plane. "L'Orlyonok" gathers thevarious strands presented in the shorter tracks into a piece that seemsto be a musical response to the other tracks. This is the only trackthat features beats and a melodic theme running through it. "Le Lun"perfectly captures the feeling of a plane that was once steadily flyingat a fixed altitude suddenly dropping as it prepares for landing. Forthe first three of its four and a half minutes the persistent sound ofthe vessel sailing through the sky is realized by the sound of oneloud, all-encompassing drone. As the sound fades out gradually duringthe last minute it reveals layers of engine hum and the pitter patterof various working parts. In creating such a vivid aural description ofhis subject, Della Faille presents a full experience in a short amountof time. Although this is a 3" CD, the tracks don't feel incomplete.Instead, Ekranoplanesis the musical equivalent of a short film, and is successful on severallevels. As a tribute, it forms enough of a picture to be directlyconnected to the subject, yet it allows the listener enough space toplace the story in any setting the imagination can invent.
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- Jonathan Dean
- Albums and Singles
Wabana
I'm not exactly sure why Wabana decided to forgo reproducing theoriginal sleeve artwork and liner notes, but I suppose it's the musicthat matters most, and all three of these discs reissue highly soughtafter titles, so it's hard to complain. This untitled live album bySunburned is only one out of a veritable storm of limited CDs, LPs,CD-Rs, DVD-Rs and other ephemora released by the ensemble, all ofwhich, if I'm not mistaken, are recorded live. I confess that I'm noteven close to having heard everything, but I can say withoutreservation that this is one of the best out of the handful that I haveheard. It's far better and more focused than meandering, shambolicaffairs like Headdress and Magnetic Drugs, more on a par with the fiery intensity of my favorite SBHOTM album Jaybird.Because all Sunburned music is the product of improvisation andspontaneity—a free jazz ensemble that plays on the collective memory ofwhite jam-band psychedelia rather than black blues—their performancesand albums are hit or miss. It is precisely this air of risk andunpredictability that I suspect has won the band such a devoted cultfollowing, and made them the darlings of The Wire's criticalintelligentsia. Indeed, it can be satisfying to hear a mess thisunstructured, aimless and chaotic gradually coalesce into coherence, asthe ensemble locates a hypnotic groove and chases it to its naturalconclusion. As usual, this recording is not a crystalline example ofcrispness and fidelity, and there is a lot of the reverb, distortionand room sound that have become de rigeur for Sunburned recordings.This seems to be an intentional part of the Sunburned aesthetic,however, and it adds another level of interest to the music itself,which might not have the same subterranean atmosphere of vague menacewithout it. The first of the four untitled tracks on the album takes aqueue from Agartha-era Miles Davis, with an overdrivenKraut-funk bassline forming the backbone for searing horn bleats anddusty clouds of fuzz guitar. The second track is an extended meditationon war, in the general tradition of Sun Ra's "Nuclear War," with thelead vocalist repeatedly shouting the key three-letter word as the restof the ensemble form a complex web of echoplexed tribal drumming,flutes and weaving saxophone. The fourth and final track contains over18 minutes of some of SBHOTM's oddest music yet, a series of twitchy,nervously sexual conversations between voice and brass, drums anddrone. Sunburned seem to hint at the kind of high magickal ritualachieved by Can's "Aumgn," but there is a seething undercurrent ofapocalyptic dread that keeps things from getting too blissed out, justin case you might have been lulled into the mistaken notion thatSunburned Hand of the Man are peaceful hippies, instead of the hardcorethugs they really are.
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- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Followers of Michael Gira's storied career might have anticipated his latest work with The Angels of Light as a natural reduction of his emotional approach to songwriting to its most basic form.
Gone are the instrumental passages and long, orchestrated songs that build and explode and then fade only to build again and pummel the listener. Gone (or at least greatly reduced) are the images of death and blood and fire and the stark, unflinching colors with which Gira has chosen to paint over the years. Instead, this record, which may sound from the title like it should be an album full of cover tunes, is a quiet, acoustic homage to "other people" as disparate as Michael Jackson, Saddam Huessein, and Gira's band mates. The sonic reductionism gives The Angels of Light a chance to strip down to bare banjos and guitars, strings, and a chorus of voices courtesy of the Akron/Family, and lets the words stand at the center of a dark stage under an uncomfortable spotlight. Of course the danger with Gira stripping away the layers of instrumentation and accompaniment is that we are pushed ever closer to the man himself, and towards his dark, creaky voice and all of the terrors it feels compelled to spill. After years of seeing Gira live, listening to his records and reading his books, I'm not sure I want to be this close and that's what makes the record so hard to take. Though this is a very different Angels of Light record, Gira's dark lyrical wit and emotional directness are as in tact as ever. He shifts in and out of different characters, but his voice remains clear and focused with little variation other than extremes of spooky-quiet and spookier-loud. In this new and more intimate setting backed by out-of-tune pianos and folksy vocal chants, Gira's limited vocal range actually becomes a distraction, causing the songs to blend together in a creepy half-sung, half-spoken haze. He channels his best Lou Reed during "The Kid is Already Breaking," and erupts into a rage (well, as raging as the Angels of Light ever get) on "Michael's White Hands," and by the third or fourth time through, the record leaves me feeling claustrophobic and anxious. After a while, it becomes impossible to tell when he's paying homage and when he's vilifying, though perhaps that ambiguity is the result of reading too much into these songs that are as simplified as can be. At this point in his career, Michael Gira is no longer building a fan-base or making friends with his music, and with this album it's clear that he's not simply handing out easy retreads to those who have followed him through the years. Fortunately for him, he's still doing creative work in distilling the essence of his sound and life into a kind of concentrated musical bullion. Unfortunately for me, the result is a little overwhelming making the record one for which I have little taste.
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- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
DFA
Atfull album length, Murphy's Mark E. Smith vocal affectations andpredilection for obvious style parody, whether it's The Normal("Thrills") or Brian Eno ("Great Release"), became somewhat tiresome."Yr City's A Sucker" is a non-album track originally released as aB-side to "Movement," but here it is released in an extended mix withan instrumental mix on the reverse. At nine compelling minutes, theinclusion of a few more tracks like this one might have saved LCDSoundsystem's album. As it stands, this one track is superior toanything that made it to the album, a slowly percolating, loosey-gooseygroove with nonsense lyrics and loads of attitude. Murphy and crew seemto not even care if the various programmed rhythms, handclaps and syntharpeggiations ever gel and form a danceable song, which paradoxicallyis what makes the track succeed. "Your city's a sucker/Your city's acreep," Murphy dispiritedly intones repeatedly, as the various elementsof the track fall in and out of synch, providing many deliciously noisymoments of abstraction, even as the bassline and beat form a consistentbackbone that lends itself to dancing. The instrumental is exactly asadvertised—the same groovy shit with all of the vocals filtered out foryour mixing convenience. This track is destined to be the set openerfor weeks to come at all of those glamorous Williamsburg loft partiesthat you won't get invited to.
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- Administrator
- Albums and Singles
Fame may finally be taking its toll on the man, or perhapsit's his heavy touring schedule, or just good old substance abuse. Orit may all be hearsay, as the rapper himself has yet to directlyaddress the subject. The only explanation the public will receive is onthe resulting intensely personal and uncharacteristicly emotionalrecord. At first glace, little has changed: Manuva's signature styleremains constant, his authoritative patois commanding respect andattention from track to track, whether he's getting the ladies todance, warning would-be steppers to steer clear, or crying out to thehigher powers for salvation. Never a technically dazzling rapper,Manuva's three quarter speed cadence and stacatto delivery areperfectly suited for his sound, simple but infectious and truly unique:obvious reggae, dub and dancehall influences pervade the fourteentracks, but not without a healthy dose of UK electronic. Thecombination serves to make Manuva at home delivering stomping dancehalltunes, violent diss tracks or thoughtful inner monlogues alike—andsometimes all on the same track. At times, the diversity is borderlineschizophrenic, threatening to disrupt Awfully Deep's balance.It may be intentional or a result of Manuva's emotional frustrations:"I can't figger out what they want from Smith," he laments in"Thinking." Either way, despite of or maybe because of his side issues,the South London steppin razor has delivered his best album yet, asonic and emotional rollercoaster.
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- Lucas Schleicher
- Albums and Singles
Infraction
Everything about this recording istransformative: it eliminates time, balances every aspect of theenvironment it is played in, and subtly coerces any negative or violentmood into one of contentment and ease. The dynamics on the record aredeceptive, changing so softly and slowly so that it is difficult tocatch the exact moment that any change actually occurs. Hums modulate,pseudo-melodies pitch and bend, but the aura of each track seems tobleed into the next without fail; Movements is incrediblywell-conceived and constructed seamlessly, as though it were imaginedas one continuous transformation. As far as actual instrumentationgoes, it's difficult to discern whether or not these are over-processedinstruments drawn out into oblivion or simply keyboards layered uponmore keyboards. Whichever happens to be true is unimportant, part ofthe miracle of Derrick's work is that the instrumentation never changesbut stays consistently inviting, beautiful, and captivatingnonetheless. "The Tension Was Beautiful" segues into "Are We Water" inthe same way that one movement of symphony might slip into the next.Instead of a whole range of instruments being used, Derrick minimalizeshis available sources and bleeds every last ounce of soul out of them.Sometimes, as on "A Waterboat Singing Having Sunk," the instrumentssound as if they are singing, harmonizing the way multiple violins orcellos do together, and at other times they are without reference andabstract, but still earthly and familiar. I've never felt quite sowonderful listening to a record—the speakers seem to pour out lightwhen it plays. I have heard only a small handful of records capable ofcausing physical effects in the listener, but this is one of thoserecords that literally speaks to and alters the body. I've found myskin tingling, butterflies in my stomach, and a steady bliss throughoutmy bones every time I've put Movements on, and that has been avery good number of times in just the last few days alone... never mindthe weeks I've been soaking in its bright ghost and losing myselfentirely.
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- Jim Siegel
- Albums and Singles
Mirex/Cock Rock Disco
Duran Duran Duran's "A God Among Men" opts for a moremartial arts inspired succession of kick drums, sharp snare blasts andsynthesizer gurgles delivered from all directions. This relativenewcomer seems to be the only contributor who understands that at twicethe speed of most normal "songs" a minute and a half is sufficient timeto deliver all the blows necessary to completely tire out anyonelistening. By using the same samples over and over amongst splattereddrum breaks, "Dyslexic Funky Droid" by Repeater wears out it's welcomeat about the two minute half-way point. Pure's own contribution, "Fight'Em" stands out and warrants its seven and a half minute length bybeing a potent mixture of his relatively recent foray into abstractanalog synthesizer explorations and his beginnings as one ofbreakcore's originators. He uses extended sections of beatless frayedelectronic circuitry to build up tension in between bursts of Amenbreak trickery. This use of dynamics lends the track a more composedfeel, yet it doesn't lack in sheer power. Curtis Chip's "Chainsawpanda"is the most subdued track of the lot, with a steady 4/4 grooveproviding a solid backdrop for complex drum programming. JasonForrest's "Sadist Hop" is successful in that he paces himself a bit,starting out the track with a mid-tempo hip hop beat complete withfunky piano loop. The former Donna Summer actually waits 25 secondsbefore attention defecit disorder takes over and causes him to throwdrum fills from every imaginable source into the mix. Forrest's skillsat chopping samples into tiny crumb-size pieces allows him to get awaywith using source material such as the guitar riff from The Eagles"Life in the Fast Lane." The juxtaposition of little reminders of theexcesses of music's past, rather than the mashing up of entire sectionsof instantly recognizable songs, with beat manipulation that isunmistakably current is what makes Forrest's work unique andrefreshing. Although some of these tracks may be forgotten years fromnow as genre exercises, in the present they collectively represent thesound of a new wave of skilled producers that don't take themselves tooseriously and aren't afraid to make music that is at once incrediblyintricate and simply a perfect excuse for jumping up and down.
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- Jason Forrest - Sadist Hop
- Pure - Fight 'Em
- Duran Duran Duran - A God Among Men
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- Matthew Jeanes
- Albums and Singles
City Centre Offices
It's notclear where the digital technology employed in these compositionsbegins and where the acoustic instrumentation ends, but that kind ofdeconstruction of method and technique is superfluous when a record isas direct and one-dimensional as this one. While there are six songslisted in the liner notes, the parts play out more like movements orrepetitions of a single theme, where ambiguous clouds of melody floatin and out of the sunlight, marking the passing of meditative time,choosing not to get in the way. Perhaps the zen quality of music thatis this natural and reflective is lost on me in a busy world oftechnological noises and urban landscapes, but I find it hard toconcentrate on Jules' compositions for what they are rather than whatthey could be. With a simple theme such as "Autumn Leaves," my mindraces to imagine the myriad ways the subject could be approachedsonically. What Jules provides here is a pretty and warm but ultimatelydetached look out the window of one of those angular steel and glasshomes that I see in design magazines. The leaves outside are calming.They are soaked with a fresh rain on an overcast Sunday morning, and Herbstlaubis playing in the background as I sip espresso in my slippers and itall seems ideal and sanitized and beautiful and vacant, forcing me tolisten again to see if I've missed something. In the end, this isinconsequential mood music made deftly and softly by a craftsman withan ear for fragile melodies and an eye for nature, but with a voicethat could be saying much more.
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