It is so frustrating to hear this release when I know that Sam Shalabi can make excellent music. Osama is lacking almost everything that typically makes Shalabi's music so good. It's not that the musicians here aren't talented and it's not that the music isn't well played, the problem is the lack of depth and complete disparity between the songs.It is so frustrating to hear this release when I know that Sam Shalabi can make excellent music. Osama is lacking almost everything that typically makes Shalabi's music so good. It's not that the musicians here aren't talented and it's not that the music isn't well played, the problem is the lack of depth and complete disparity between the songs.
3509 Hits
Thrill Jockey
Giant Sand frontman Howe Gelb credits this solo project to Howe Home, a somewhat ironic reference to the fact that The Listenerwas largely recorded on a trip to Denmark, an ocean and a continentaway from the southwestern sounds that have defined his work. Despitethe change in cultural climate, and the use of Danish supportingmusicians, Gelb sticks to his formula with middling results. Theinitial attitude of The Listener comes across not so much asrelaxed, but lazy. Like a Thorazine stuffed Leonard Cohen, Gelb spillshis vocals over the music in a lackadaisical, arrhythmic manner. Hefloats above the songs, coming down occasionally to momentarily latchonto the beat before releasing it again. "Jason's List" ventures intoclassic AM Radio territory with a modest horn section that sounds rightout of a Burt Bacharach arrangement. On the first several tracks,smooth jazz bass lines and blue-eyed boss nova rhythms threaten toconjure images of hotel lounge singers and elevator accompaniment. Gelbis strongest when his southwestern roots and inspirations form the meatof his songs. "Torque (Tango de la Tongue)" is a sinuous duet withsinger Henriette Sennenvaldt that evolves around a fantastic Latinrhythm. The vocal interplay between the two is wonderful; their hushed,suggestive tones twist around each other as they dance cheek to cheek.Sennenvaldt's Danish accented English adds a disorienting andunexpectedly exotic touch the track. Her presence is welcome, and seemsto focus Gelb's sleepy delivery. The Latin shuffle continues on theinstrumental "Plango," and while it is nearly as entertaining as theprevious track, it really does not add anything to the formula. "LyingThere" is a cute song that shows a pinch of vitality after the album'shalf awake opening. "You can bungle up your own birthday party / byshowing up one year late / you can foul up playing in traffic / just bytrying to concentrate." It's a sunny track that wins you over with abright acoustic melody. "B 4 U (Do Do Do)" invigorates the album with acountry-fried, searing electric guitar while copping the vocal melodyto "Lean on Me." Everything works on this track, with Gelb soundingbuoyant and the accompaniment as bouncy as hell, like a bar band ontheir third round of drinks. "Blood Orange" sees Gelb once againtrading vocals with a woman, this time Marie Frank. Together they tella sweet, endearing love story that's pleasant enough. The second halfof 'The Listener' vastly outshines the first, landing on the oppositeside of the fine line between easygoing and meandering. In a solidfinale, Gelb closes with "Now I Lay Me Down" and "Lemmy N Emmy," twosongs that sound completely formed and confident. Tasteful strings adda stately poignancy to Gelb's worn guitar lines and dusty voice.
Giant Sand frontman Howe Gelb credits this solo project to Howe Home, a somewhat ironic reference to the fact that The Listenerwas largely recorded on a trip to Denmark, an ocean and a continentaway from the southwestern sounds that have defined his work. Despitethe change in cultural climate, and the use of Danish supportingmusicians, Gelb sticks to his formula with middling results. Theinitial attitude of The Listener comes across not so much asrelaxed, but lazy. Like a Thorazine stuffed Leonard Cohen, Gelb spillshis vocals over the music in a lackadaisical, arrhythmic manner. Hefloats above the songs, coming down occasionally to momentarily latchonto the beat before releasing it again. "Jason's List" ventures intoclassic AM Radio territory with a modest horn section that sounds rightout of a Burt Bacharach arrangement. On the first several tracks,smooth jazz bass lines and blue-eyed boss nova rhythms threaten toconjure images of hotel lounge singers and elevator accompaniment. Gelbis strongest when his southwestern roots and inspirations form the meatof his songs. "Torque (Tango de la Tongue)" is a sinuous duet withsinger Henriette Sennenvaldt that evolves around a fantastic Latinrhythm. The vocal interplay between the two is wonderful; their hushed,suggestive tones twist around each other as they dance cheek to cheek.Sennenvaldt's Danish accented English adds a disorienting andunexpectedly exotic touch the track. Her presence is welcome, and seemsto focus Gelb's sleepy delivery. The Latin shuffle continues on theinstrumental "Plango," and while it is nearly as entertaining as theprevious track, it really does not add anything to the formula. "LyingThere" is a cute song that shows a pinch of vitality after the album'shalf awake opening. "You can bungle up your own birthday party / byshowing up one year late / you can foul up playing in traffic / just bytrying to concentrate." It's a sunny track that wins you over with abright acoustic melody. "B 4 U (Do Do Do)" invigorates the album with acountry-fried, searing electric guitar while copping the vocal melodyto "Lean on Me." Everything works on this track, with Gelb soundingbuoyant and the accompaniment as bouncy as hell, like a bar band ontheir third round of drinks. "Blood Orange" sees Gelb once againtrading vocals with a woman, this time Marie Frank. Together they tella sweet, endearing love story that's pleasant enough. The second halfof 'The Listener' vastly outshines the first, landing on the oppositeside of the fine line between easygoing and meandering. In a solidfinale, Gelb closes with "Now I Lay Me Down" and "Lemmy N Emmy," twosongs that sound completely formed and confident. Tasteful strings adda stately poignancy to Gelb's worn guitar lines and dusty voice.
3433 Hits
Fueled By Ramen
It's so sad that some emo music has gotten the bad rep that it has, asthe style's beginnings had a lot of promise in bands like Sunny DayReal Estate and Mineral. It was energetic, loud guitar music with"emotive" vocal performance and songs that dealt with humanrelationships mostly. Emo has had its off-spring, from the emo-pop ofJimmy Eat World to the emo-sap (or, for me, emo-suck) of DashboardConfessional, and their sound is now more recognized and prevalent thanthe original. They are also the source of the bad reaction to emo.Every once in a while, though, a band or two come along that are loyalto the original sound without sounding trite, and the Impossibles weresuch a band. Showing off all the components of the original sound, butlacking a bit of focus, they released two full-lengths and 2 EPs beforecalling it quits. Now, two members of that band return as Slow Reader,a great name for a band if I've ever heard one. The sound isdrastically different from their former band, as now they record lushpop laments with electronic flourishes. The core feeling is there,though, and the vocal performance is still emotive while maintaining aninteresting detachment and laziness. "I Like You Most" may sound like ahorrible Chris Carraba song title, but it instead takes more from BenFolds and the Beach Boys with overmixed drums and clear harmony vocals."Stupid Bet" features the best lyrics on the whole release, with softlydelivered vocals and remorse over self-created loss and suffering."Anesthetic for the Amputee" is probably the most raw song on thealbum, with just acoustic guitar and a multitude of voices filling thethe speaker. It's a good start, with its weaknesses intact, but itshows promise. For a traditionally punk or ska label to be releasing itis really a good sign of where both artist and label are heading.
It's so sad that some emo music has gotten the bad rep that it has, asthe style's beginnings had a lot of promise in bands like Sunny DayReal Estate and Mineral. It was energetic, loud guitar music with"emotive" vocal performance and songs that dealt with humanrelationships mostly. Emo has had its off-spring, from the emo-pop ofJimmy Eat World to the emo-sap (or, for me, emo-suck) of DashboardConfessional, and their sound is now more recognized and prevalent thanthe original. They are also the source of the bad reaction to emo.Every once in a while, though, a band or two come along that are loyalto the original sound without sounding trite, and the Impossibles weresuch a band. Showing off all the components of the original sound, butlacking a bit of focus, they released two full-lengths and 2 EPs beforecalling it quits. Now, two members of that band return as Slow Reader,a great name for a band if I've ever heard one. The sound isdrastically different from their former band, as now they record lushpop laments with electronic flourishes. The core feeling is there,though, and the vocal performance is still emotive while maintaining aninteresting detachment and laziness. "I Like You Most" may sound like ahorrible Chris Carraba song title, but it instead takes more from BenFolds and the Beach Boys with overmixed drums and clear harmony vocals."Stupid Bet" features the best lyrics on the whole release, with softlydelivered vocals and remorse over self-created loss and suffering."Anesthetic for the Amputee" is probably the most raw song on thealbum, with just acoustic guitar and a multitude of voices filling thethe speaker. It's a good start, with its weaknesses intact, but itshows promise. For a traditionally punk or ska label to be releasing itis really a good sign of where both artist and label are heading.
3312 Hits
Fancy
The upright bass gives a resounding and metronomic thump thump thump onthe new Molasses album. This low-octave punctuation generates a gloomyyet suspended feeling: you might grow anxious in the gray fog thatsurrounds these songs, but you simply cannot escape it or shed thegloom. It lumbers methodically after you while your feet are rooted inplace and you have nowhere to go. But the more you are compelled tolisten in place, the more you notice the glistening sounds of the musicwhich come breaking through the gloom. Scott Chernoff's voice isfamiliar and inviting; it has this habit of laying a heavy croon oraccent on the end of verses and lines, while laying off almostdisinterestedly at the beginning of them. It's not unlike rocking upand down on the waves in a unstable rowing boat which could capsizewith the next swell. Again, the feeling is one of inescapableisolation, but this time some Dramamine might help.
Surrounding Chernoff is the requisite (and, at this point, almostcliched) Montreal cooperative of musicians whose memberships in otherbands would be too laborious to enumerate (a sampling of theConstellation and Alien8 labels will give you a representativecross-section). Let it just be known that there is a lush assortment ofpiano, guitars, strings, horns, and organs. "Death March (Erskine'stheme)" lets loose at one point with what rightfully could be called anaural assault of horns, percussion, guitars and banjos. For about twominutes, it sounds as if thirteen New Orleans brass bands weresimultaneously competing on separate street corners of Bourbon Street.My biggest disappointment with Molasses is how similar all the songsare. I enjoy the sound of the first few songs, like "Valley Song" and"Insomnia," and the music along with the lyrics along with thepackaging (we will talk about this shortly) create this lovely gothicenvironment (not gothic in the way you are thinking. I am merelytalking about 18th century spooky houses in rural New England, lit bymoonlight and with wind rustling dead leaves on trees). But soon therepetition of chords, tempos, and vocals give the sensation of beingstuck in a time loop. Listen to one of the song samples and you have afairly good idea how the entire album sounds. The instrumental songscome almost as a relief, for they are the most distinct andexperimental pieces in the two disc set and they remind us we stillgoing forward in time rather than repeating it. Despite the homogenoussound, it is not too much of a chore to listen through two discs sinceMolasses executes a pleasant sound. The packaging of 'A Slow Messe' isbeautifully done without being cumbersome and unwieldy. The dualbooklets feature lyrics as well as Chernoff's photographs, distressedto make them look ancient or unearthed. By the end of listening to thealbum and perusing the inserts, I understood how aptly named the bandis. Chernoff's vocals stretch out with the viscosity of drops ofmolasses, keeping level and understated during the formation of thedrop and rising at the point at which the droplet of molasses gets tooheavy for itself and finally falls away into the dark space below.
The upright bass gives a resounding and metronomic thump thump thump onthe new Molasses album. This low-octave punctuation generates a gloomyyet suspended feeling: you might grow anxious in the gray fog thatsurrounds these songs, but you simply cannot escape it or shed thegloom. It lumbers methodically after you while your feet are rooted inplace and you have nowhere to go. But the more you are compelled tolisten in place, the more you notice the glistening sounds of the musicwhich come breaking through the gloom. Scott Chernoff's voice isfamiliar and inviting; it has this habit of laying a heavy croon oraccent on the end of verses and lines, while laying off almostdisinterestedly at the beginning of them. It's not unlike rocking upand down on the waves in a unstable rowing boat which could capsizewith the next swell. Again, the feeling is one of inescapableisolation, but this time some Dramamine might help.Surrounding Chernoff is the requisite (and, at this point, almostcliched) Montreal cooperative of musicians whose memberships in otherbands would be too laborious to enumerate (a sampling of theConstellation and Alien8 labels will give you a representativecross-section). Let it just be known that there is a lush assortment ofpiano, guitars, strings, horns, and organs. "Death March (Erskine'stheme)" lets loose at one point with what rightfully could be called anaural assault of horns, percussion, guitars and banjos. For about twominutes, it sounds as if thirteen New Orleans brass bands weresimultaneously competing on separate street corners of Bourbon Street.My biggest disappointment with Molasses is how similar all the songsare. I enjoy the sound of the first few songs, like "Valley Song" and"Insomnia," and the music along with the lyrics along with thepackaging (we will talk about this shortly) create this lovely gothicenvironment (not gothic in the way you are thinking. I am merelytalking about 18th century spooky houses in rural New England, lit bymoonlight and with wind rustling dead leaves on trees). But soon therepetition of chords, tempos, and vocals give the sensation of beingstuck in a time loop. Listen to one of the song samples and you have afairly good idea how the entire album sounds. The instrumental songscome almost as a relief, for they are the most distinct andexperimental pieces in the two disc set and they remind us we stillgoing forward in time rather than repeating it. Despite the homogenoussound, it is not too much of a chore to listen through two discs sinceMolasses executes a pleasant sound. The packaging of 'A Slow Messe' isbeautifully done without being cumbersome and unwieldy. The dualbooklets feature lyrics as well as Chernoff's photographs, distressedto make them look ancient or unearthed. By the end of listening to thealbum and perusing the inserts, I understood how aptly named the bandis. Chernoff's vocals stretch out with the viscosity of drops ofmolasses, keeping level and understated during the formation of thedrop and rising at the point at which the droplet of molasses gets tooheavy for itself and finally falls away into the dark space below.
3946 Hits
Mute
Whilst the leading cut promoting the very disappointing Plastic Fangisn't much to get excited over unless you're big into the V/Vm Shakin'Green Door massive, the bulldozing Techno Animal remix of "Over andOver" shows just how a slice of mediocrity can be elevated togreatness. I only picked this single up for that remix, which is ashardass siren spurting as the best of their audio assaults and mightjust be the best thing Spencer has done, or had done to him, sincePussy Galore! Barry Adamson's remix of the same track is alsoeffective, if comparatively slinky and sleazy. It doesn't set theemergency flashlights off at quite the same frequency but it gets thefeet moving frantically with its fucked over drum'n'bass distortionmoves, as does the Tremelo Beer Gut mix of "She Said." Who is TremeloBeergut anyway? Only the sugary sheen of the Sub Species "MoneyRock'N'Roll" remix fails to get my blood pumpin'. This is a bland lotof ol' toss that sounds like some kind of misguided bid for Ibitha.Otherwise, this is a creditable salvage operation that pulls surprisingfiery modern machine shapes from an album that seemed like an exercisein terminally bland self parody. If you've ever enjoyed anything fromTechno Animal, Barry Adamson or Jon Spencer then this single shouldn'tbe ignored. So far I just can't be bothered to watch the four videos ofthe Explosion in action tagged on the end, but I guess they probablyoffer value for rock'n'roll money if you have a computer that can dealwith that much shakin' excitement, Steven.
Whilst the leading cut promoting the very disappointing Plastic Fangisn't much to get excited over unless you're big into the V/Vm Shakin'Green Door massive, the bulldozing Techno Animal remix of "Over andOver" shows just how a slice of mediocrity can be elevated togreatness. I only picked this single up for that remix, which is ashardass siren spurting as the best of their audio assaults and mightjust be the best thing Spencer has done, or had done to him, sincePussy Galore! Barry Adamson's remix of the same track is alsoeffective, if comparatively slinky and sleazy. It doesn't set theemergency flashlights off at quite the same frequency but it gets thefeet moving frantically with its fucked over drum'n'bass distortionmoves, as does the Tremelo Beer Gut mix of "She Said." Who is TremeloBeergut anyway? Only the sugary sheen of the Sub Species "MoneyRock'N'Roll" remix fails to get my blood pumpin'. This is a bland lotof ol' toss that sounds like some kind of misguided bid for Ibitha.Otherwise, this is a creditable salvage operation that pulls surprisingfiery modern machine shapes from an album that seemed like an exercisein terminally bland self parody. If you've ever enjoyed anything fromTechno Animal, Barry Adamson or Jon Spencer then this single shouldn'tbe ignored. So far I just can't be bothered to watch the four videos ofthe Explosion in action tagged on the end, but I guess they probablyoffer value for rock'n'roll money if you have a computer that can dealwith that much shakin' excitement, Steven.
3040 Hits
Cooking Vinyl
I used to be a big Meat Puppets fan and when I finally got the chanceto see them play live and interview them it was a blast. Curt Kirkwoodwas as hilarious, hallucinatory and obtuse an interviewee as his lyricsmight have suggested he could be and they effortlessly blew thecomparatively lame Soul Asylum right out the door. Nirvana should needeven less introduction. So here are Kirkwood and former Nirvana bassistin a new trio with a drummer from some band called Sublime who I'venever heard of and probably never will bother to. As you might expect,Eyes Adrift are much more like Meat Puppets than Nirvana, after all,Kirkwood was that band's main songwriter. He still splashes togetherdashes of punk rock, country and weird psychedelic acidfire guitarsolos in a way that shouldn't disappoint any old Meat Puppets fans. Infact, the new band seems to have revitalised him and set him lookingfor slightly new angles to throw his illusive songlight on. The albumstarts unobtrusively and builds inexorably. What would be the firstside seems to coast by nicely, but it seems they saved the best songsfor the second half. "Solid" is classic Kirkwood, a huge psyched outlament by a protagonist whose blood has frozen in his veins, perhaps aperverse metaphorical reflection on Meat Puppets and his bassistbrother's drug problems? "Telescope" should have lovers of cute melodictwists and hard chuggin' metal riffage alike grinning from ear to ear,as Kirkwood shows anyone who'll listen how he'll aim his potato gun atthe sun. By the time they run themselves a "Slow Race," where theobject is to lose, there are no fish left in the streams, they've alltaken to the air. Despite some subtle textures imparted by computerediting and recording, there aren't really any huge leaps from MeatPuppets music, but some small progression has been made out of thecreative cul de sac that band seemed to end up in latterly. My biggestsurprise was finding a copy of this CD for the price of half a pint ofbooze in a bargain bin, but the last track is also quite a curveball."Pasted" is an epic meandering voyage that stretches out well overfifteen minutes and glues a vaguely folk rock lyric about old St Paul,which might be sung by Novoselic, onto some of Kirkwood's most ecstaticsundrenched guitar noise ever. You can hear the entire album at the Eyes Adrift site where they also have two new songs up for grabs. The obvious is dead.
I used to be a big Meat Puppets fan and when I finally got the chanceto see them play live and interview them it was a blast. Curt Kirkwoodwas as hilarious, hallucinatory and obtuse an interviewee as his lyricsmight have suggested he could be and they effortlessly blew thecomparatively lame Soul Asylum right out the door. Nirvana should needeven less introduction. So here are Kirkwood and former Nirvana bassistin a new trio with a drummer from some band called Sublime who I'venever heard of and probably never will bother to. As you might expect,Eyes Adrift are much more like Meat Puppets than Nirvana, after all,Kirkwood was that band's main songwriter. He still splashes togetherdashes of punk rock, country and weird psychedelic acidfire guitarsolos in a way that shouldn't disappoint any old Meat Puppets fans. Infact, the new band seems to have revitalised him and set him lookingfor slightly new angles to throw his illusive songlight on. The albumstarts unobtrusively and builds inexorably. What would be the firstside seems to coast by nicely, but it seems they saved the best songsfor the second half. "Solid" is classic Kirkwood, a huge psyched outlament by a protagonist whose blood has frozen in his veins, perhaps aperverse metaphorical reflection on Meat Puppets and his bassistbrother's drug problems? "Telescope" should have lovers of cute melodictwists and hard chuggin' metal riffage alike grinning from ear to ear,as Kirkwood shows anyone who'll listen how he'll aim his potato gun atthe sun. By the time they run themselves a "Slow Race," where theobject is to lose, there are no fish left in the streams, they've alltaken to the air. Despite some subtle textures imparted by computerediting and recording, there aren't really any huge leaps from MeatPuppets music, but some small progression has been made out of thecreative cul de sac that band seemed to end up in latterly. My biggestsurprise was finding a copy of this CD for the price of half a pint ofbooze in a bargain bin, but the last track is also quite a curveball."Pasted" is an epic meandering voyage that stretches out well overfifteen minutes and glues a vaguely folk rock lyric about old St Paul,which might be sung by Novoselic, onto some of Kirkwood's most ecstaticsundrenched guitar noise ever. You can hear the entire album at the Eyes Adrift site where they also have two new songs up for grabs. The obvious is dead.
3264 Hits
Morr Music
Belgian Arne Van Petegem is also making an attempt to graduate from theclass of instrumental group of European laptop nerds with his latestEP, a prelude to his forthcoming second full-length album. In the threeyears since his last LP, Arne has been recruited by a number ofmusicians and labels to do remixes, singles and compilation tracks.It's probably through this that he reached two conclusions: #1) it'snot so bad to start including organic sounds like guitar back into themix and #2) my voice isn't so bad that I can't start singing the songsI write! Arne even harmonizes with himself on the title track of thisEP, a blissfull introduction to the more evolved Styrofoam sound. Thepretty melodies and robotic percussion have not been forfeited and thevocals and guitars just add a much nicer dimension on this, a moreradio-frendly version of a track of the forthcoming album. "Fade OutYour Eyes" is a live recording of what sounds pretty much likeStyrofoam remixing himself: letting his vocals and instruments twitterand waiver in a beat-less tapestry of digitally echoing samples whichcould easily go on forever. The disc is rounded out by two charmingtechnologically-enhanced cover tunes: "Hard to Find," originally byCodeine and "Snow Crush Killing Song," originally by Mountain Goats.The full-length I'm What's There to Show That Something's Missingis due out this week, but those lucky enough to catch the Notwist ontour right now can catch both a set by Styrofoam and his place in theNotwist, filling in for Martin Gretschmann, who's off doing stuff withConsole right now. While I still might have reservations when it comesto laptop performers, Styrofoam deserves credit for having a rock clubaudience attentive and interested, something most laptoppers can stillonly fanticize about.
Belgian Arne Van Petegem is also making an attempt to graduate from theclass of instrumental group of European laptop nerds with his latestEP, a prelude to his forthcoming second full-length album. In the threeyears since his last LP, Arne has been recruited by a number ofmusicians and labels to do remixes, singles and compilation tracks.It's probably through this that he reached two conclusions: #1) it'snot so bad to start including organic sounds like guitar back into themix and #2) my voice isn't so bad that I can't start singing the songsI write! Arne even harmonizes with himself on the title track of thisEP, a blissfull introduction to the more evolved Styrofoam sound. Thepretty melodies and robotic percussion have not been forfeited and thevocals and guitars just add a much nicer dimension on this, a moreradio-frendly version of a track of the forthcoming album. "Fade OutYour Eyes" is a live recording of what sounds pretty much likeStyrofoam remixing himself: letting his vocals and instruments twitterand waiver in a beat-less tapestry of digitally echoing samples whichcould easily go on forever. The disc is rounded out by two charmingtechnologically-enhanced cover tunes: "Hard to Find," originally byCodeine and "Snow Crush Killing Song," originally by Mountain Goats.The full-length I'm What's There to Show That Something's Missingis due out this week, but those lucky enough to catch the Notwist ontour right now can catch both a set by Styrofoam and his place in theNotwist, filling in for Martin Gretschmann, who's off doing stuff withConsole right now. While I still might have reservations when it comesto laptop performers, Styrofoam deserves credit for having a rock clubaudience attentive and interested, something most laptoppers can stillonly fanticize about.
3350 Hits
What's immediately striking about the third album by Michael Gira's Angels of Light is the visual presentation. The six photos—an empty chair, a cluttered desk, a room full of plants, a bookcase loaded with CDs and books, a rosary draped over a thermostat, and, perhaps most tellingly, an empty bedseem to paint a picture of a sufficient but lonely life.
3350 Hits
Young God
Seemingly out of nowhere comes this 21-year-old oddball whose fourtrack demo tape piqued the interest of Michael Gira and thus thisrelease on Young God and membership in The Angels of Light. Banhart'sbiography reads like a transient David Lynch. He has lived everywherefrom Texas to Caracas to Paris to a NYC squat, attended art school inSan Francisco and played gay weddings and Ethiopian restaurants.Somehow it all makes sense. Selected for this disc are 22 of the 75 orso songs recorded over the past three to four years. Gira wiselydecided not to polish the diamond in the rough, i.e. he has simplyreleased the original demos rather than quarantine Banhart in a studiofor new versions. This is bare Banhart: double tracked voice andacoustic guitar with whistles and hand claps, plus tape hiss andwhatever else happened to be going on in the background for extracharacter. Most of the time the finger picking is plaintive and thevocals are hushed (recalling Nick Drake some), at others it's much morefrantic with wild strumming (recalling Syd Barret some) and thefalsetto morphing into the call of some yet to be discovered rainforest bird. The lyrics are suitably simple and/or surreal withdeceivingly naive plays on words and word associations that reveal asharp mind. Prime examples are in "Roots (If The Sky Were a Stone)":"when the roots of the tree / are as cold as can be / when the wind andthe sea / are the moth and the bee / when the rays of the sun / lickyour skin with its tongue / and the grass with its green / and theshine with its sheen / and the trains with their tracks / and thespines with their backs / and your sway with its slow / and the windwith its blow" and in "Michigan State": "well my snail has my favoriteslow / the shell helps the snail still the skin lays low / and if mysnail has my favorite slow / then my cold has my favorite snow / but ifmy snail is cold and comes to a halt / then my sea has my favorite salt/ the salt keeps the sea from feeling sweet / and my toes have myfavorite feet / and if I sweat salt and the Earth sweats heat". Inaddition, there's "Lend Me Your Teeth" with it's strange single linemantra: "I'm lost in the dark / lend me your teeth / come on!"Everything is fair game as subject matter for Banhart's songs (10 areless than two minutes long and many come to a sudden, unexpected end)including lovers, teachers, friends and family. I never get theimpression that he's being weird for weird's sake—it's eccentric butgenuine, child-like but brilliant, raw but real. These songs areextraordinarily touching, melodic and infectious.
Seemingly out of nowhere comes this 21-year-old oddball whose fourtrack demo tape piqued the interest of Michael Gira and thus thisrelease on Young God and membership in The Angels of Light. Banhart'sbiography reads like a transient David Lynch. He has lived everywherefrom Texas to Caracas to Paris to a NYC squat, attended art school inSan Francisco and played gay weddings and Ethiopian restaurants.Somehow it all makes sense. Selected for this disc are 22 of the 75 orso songs recorded over the past three to four years. Gira wiselydecided not to polish the diamond in the rough, i.e. he has simplyreleased the original demos rather than quarantine Banhart in a studiofor new versions. This is bare Banhart: double tracked voice andacoustic guitar with whistles and hand claps, plus tape hiss andwhatever else happened to be going on in the background for extracharacter. Most of the time the finger picking is plaintive and thevocals are hushed (recalling Nick Drake some), at others it's much morefrantic with wild strumming (recalling Syd Barret some) and thefalsetto morphing into the call of some yet to be discovered rainforest bird. The lyrics are suitably simple and/or surreal withdeceivingly naive plays on words and word associations that reveal asharp mind. Prime examples are in "Roots (If The Sky Were a Stone)":"when the roots of the tree / are as cold as can be / when the wind andthe sea / are the moth and the bee / when the rays of the sun / lickyour skin with its tongue / and the grass with its green / and theshine with its sheen / and the trains with their tracks / and thespines with their backs / and your sway with its slow / and the windwith its blow" and in "Michigan State": "well my snail has my favoriteslow / the shell helps the snail still the skin lays low / and if mysnail has my favorite slow / then my cold has my favorite snow / but ifmy snail is cold and comes to a halt / then my sea has my favorite salt/ the salt keeps the sea from feeling sweet / and my toes have myfavorite feet / and if I sweat salt and the Earth sweats heat". Inaddition, there's "Lend Me Your Teeth" with it's strange single linemantra: "I'm lost in the dark / lend me your teeth / come on!"Everything is fair game as subject matter for Banhart's songs (10 areless than two minutes long and many come to a sudden, unexpected end)including lovers, teachers, friends and family. I never get theimpression that he's being weird for weird's sake—it's eccentric butgenuine, child-like but brilliant, raw but real. These songs areextraordinarily touching, melodic and infectious.
3419 Hits
Coil is easily playing some of their most haunting, spectral, hypnotic, and sublime material ever, combining the new with the old and doing so without the outcome sounding muddled or too disparate.
3638 Hits
Leaf (UK) / Domino (US)
Canadian born London dweller Dan Snaith has reintroduced Manitoba with his second full-length release. Up In Flamesis a fantastic surprise, as it is a complete turn around from themeandering simplicity of the relatively trendy instrumental electronicmusic on earlier releases. With vocals, guitars, bombastic organic andsamples drums, feverishly catchy melodies, and a complete overload ofcollected sounds, instruments and an excess of quirky samples, thiscould easibly be one of the most maximalistic recordings by one personin a long while. With the keen skill of roping everything into ablissful melodic soup, this album is easily poised to be thebreakthrough hit of the spring. From the opener "I've Lived on a DirtRoad All My Life," there is no irony, no pulled punches, as the musicjust barrels in with nearly no introduction. A gorgeous interlude endsthe piece with a moment to let things settle in and stays rather lowkey for the instrumental follower. "Skunks" opens and closes with thesounds of frogs (what identifiable sounds do skunks make after all?)but is propelled along with bass and guitar playing, layers of drums,screechy sax, The energy blasts back in with the one-two punch of thetwo vocal tracks "Hendrix with KO," and the single "Jacknuggeted,"which could easily be two of my fave songs on the disc. Snaith isn'tafraid to stack killer drum samples upon drum samples, hand claps, fillthe rest in with gorgeous harp sweeps and always make it a point to endon a good note. With songs like "Bijoux," this one man army hasachieved what numerous multi-member ensembles have only ever dreamt of.If anything, on the vocal tracks, Snaith probably could try and get alittle more confident with his voice so it's not as buried in the mix.Other than that very, very minor observation, this album is flawless.Manitoba is set to tour North America with Four Tet and Prefuse 73.Promises have been made to turn Manitoba into a fully realized liveband with two drummers, guitars and a whole mess of other people. Let'shope this happens.
Canadian born London dweller Dan Snaith has reintroduced Manitoba with his second full-length release. Up In Flamesis a fantastic surprise, as it is a complete turn around from themeandering simplicity of the relatively trendy instrumental electronicmusic on earlier releases. With vocals, guitars, bombastic organic andsamples drums, feverishly catchy melodies, and a complete overload ofcollected sounds, instruments and an excess of quirky samples, thiscould easibly be one of the most maximalistic recordings by one personin a long while. With the keen skill of roping everything into ablissful melodic soup, this album is easily poised to be thebreakthrough hit of the spring. From the opener "I've Lived on a DirtRoad All My Life," there is no irony, no pulled punches, as the musicjust barrels in with nearly no introduction. A gorgeous interlude endsthe piece with a moment to let things settle in and stays rather lowkey for the instrumental follower. "Skunks" opens and closes with thesounds of frogs (what identifiable sounds do skunks make after all?)but is propelled along with bass and guitar playing, layers of drums,screechy sax, The energy blasts back in with the one-two punch of thetwo vocal tracks "Hendrix with KO," and the single "Jacknuggeted,"which could easily be two of my fave songs on the disc. Snaith isn'tafraid to stack killer drum samples upon drum samples, hand claps, fillthe rest in with gorgeous harp sweeps and always make it a point to endon a good note. With songs like "Bijoux," this one man army hasachieved what numerous multi-member ensembles have only ever dreamt of.If anything, on the vocal tracks, Snaith probably could try and get alittle more confident with his voice so it's not as buried in the mix.Other than that very, very minor observation, this album is flawless.Manitoba is set to tour North America with Four Tet and Prefuse 73.Promises have been made to turn Manitoba into a fully realized liveband with two drummers, guitars and a whole mess of other people. Let'shope this happens.
3596 Hits
DFA
2002 was a good year for James Murphy. Not only did his label, co-ownedwith Pat Mahoney, release some of the year's best records (Black Dice'sBeaches and Canyons and The Rapture's "House of Jealous Lovers"), buthis own self-proclaimed "electro-disco" one-man group, LCD Soundsystem,put out the underground dance hit of the summer. His second release asLCD Soundsystem simultaneously caps off a spectacular 2002 for Murphywhile hinting at an even better 2003. "Give It Up" begins where the"Losing My Edge" 12" left off, but with some minor adjustments. Goneare the Casio beats and the hipster-scene criticism, and much of theelectro influence. Instead, we're given a fuller, more band orientatedsound (although it's Murphy who plays all the instruments), featuring apropulsive, funked-up bass line and an all-around fiercer rhythmsection. The result is an instantly danceable track, engaging from thevery first notes of the opening drum roll. One would expect more of thesame on the flip side of the 7", but "Tired" delivers a pounding, dirtyrocker that is quite befuddling at first. But after a few listens, it'sclear that Murphy (along with Mahoney on this track) can just as easilywrite songs that sound more appropriate in a dank bar than at a chicdance club. Yet, even though Murphy has proved he can do more than justwrite a good dance tune (although it's still what he does best), Iwould hate to see LCD Soundsystem release a full-length anytime soon.After two singles as good as "Losing My Edge" and "Give It Up," I'd bebegging to hear an LP, but I have a nagging feeling that these tunesare best served up in small doses.
2002 was a good year for James Murphy. Not only did his label, co-ownedwith Pat Mahoney, release some of the year's best records (Black Dice'sBeaches and Canyons and The Rapture's "House of Jealous Lovers"), buthis own self-proclaimed "electro-disco" one-man group, LCD Soundsystem,put out the underground dance hit of the summer. His second release asLCD Soundsystem simultaneously caps off a spectacular 2002 for Murphywhile hinting at an even better 2003. "Give It Up" begins where the"Losing My Edge" 12" left off, but with some minor adjustments. Goneare the Casio beats and the hipster-scene criticism, and much of theelectro influence. Instead, we're given a fuller, more band orientatedsound (although it's Murphy who plays all the instruments), featuring apropulsive, funked-up bass line and an all-around fiercer rhythmsection. The result is an instantly danceable track, engaging from thevery first notes of the opening drum roll. One would expect more of thesame on the flip side of the 7", but "Tired" delivers a pounding, dirtyrocker that is quite befuddling at first. But after a few listens, it'sclear that Murphy (along with Mahoney on this track) can just as easilywrite songs that sound more appropriate in a dank bar than at a chicdance club. Yet, even though Murphy has proved he can do more than justwrite a good dance tune (although it's still what he does best), Iwould hate to see LCD Soundsystem release a full-length anytime soon.After two singles as good as "Losing My Edge" and "Give It Up," I'd bebegging to hear an LP, but I have a nagging feeling that these tunesare best served up in small doses.
3085 Hits
While I love sociological criticism woven into art, if it is so deliberate that it is an album's strongest point, I'm bound to be disappointed after the first listen. That being said, Lovebomb is an extremely well-founded concept album about love and the expression of culturally specific social processes, an overarching thesis that I won't attempt to evaluate. Thaemlitz covers many angles and perspectives in his exploration of this ubiquitous emotion, using generally interesting, but sometimes run of the mill, electro-acoustic music.
3504 Hits
Mille Plateaux
After my first listen to this album at a low volume level, I was alittle worried because there didn't seem to be much going on; butluckily, subsequent listens on a decent system revealed a great levelof detail, much of it buried under immense low end. The focal point isthe periodic repetition of a low-pass-filtered percussive sound,stretched out to such an extent that its booming decay lingers longenough to reveal the slow fluctuations of a vibrating membrane. This isaccompanied by a harmonically rich, but somewhat muted, midrange dronethat very slowly fades from complete silence to full volume and thenback again to nothingness, bringing new layers of sound with eachiteration. The tonal elements resemble Köner's more recent Unerforschtes Gebietrecording in their texture and evocation of abandoned places. Here theyare softer. The percussion and gradual variations in amplitude lend amysterious—and somewhat human—element to an otherwise uninhabitedlandscape. Midway through the piece, the drone descends ratherconspicuously through four closely-spaced notes, in what is reminiscentof a threateningly futuristic movie soundtrack. After this big event,some quiet, almost mechanical, filtered noise emerges, along withrepeated bass-rich volume swells that sound like more stretched outpercussion, this time played backwards. The slight hissing and patientrise and fall in volume are like breathing; and the middle part of thisrecording is really quite beautiful, despite the abundance of low-endmaking it almost claustrophobic and morose. Shades of the descendingmelody are audible as the original sounds return, and the drum soundre-enters and grows more and more extended throughout the remainder ofthe piece. It finally ends with a sustained rumble. Even with thelimited range of sound that Köner seems to have confined himself to, Daikan is quite stunning and is a fine addition to the Köner collection.
After my first listen to this album at a low volume level, I was alittle worried because there didn't seem to be much going on; butluckily, subsequent listens on a decent system revealed a great levelof detail, much of it buried under immense low end. The focal point isthe periodic repetition of a low-pass-filtered percussive sound,stretched out to such an extent that its booming decay lingers longenough to reveal the slow fluctuations of a vibrating membrane. This isaccompanied by a harmonically rich, but somewhat muted, midrange dronethat very slowly fades from complete silence to full volume and thenback again to nothingness, bringing new layers of sound with eachiteration. The tonal elements resemble Köner's more recent Unerforschtes Gebietrecording in their texture and evocation of abandoned places. Here theyare softer. The percussion and gradual variations in amplitude lend amysterious—and somewhat human—element to an otherwise uninhabitedlandscape. Midway through the piece, the drone descends ratherconspicuously through four closely-spaced notes, in what is reminiscentof a threateningly futuristic movie soundtrack. After this big event,some quiet, almost mechanical, filtered noise emerges, along withrepeated bass-rich volume swells that sound like more stretched outpercussion, this time played backwards. The slight hissing and patientrise and fall in volume are like breathing; and the middle part of thisrecording is really quite beautiful, despite the abundance of low-endmaking it almost claustrophobic and morose. Shades of the descendingmelody are audible as the original sounds return, and the drum soundre-enters and grows more and more extended throughout the remainder ofthe piece. It finally ends with a sustained rumble. Even with thelimited range of sound that Köner seems to have confined himself to, Daikan is quite stunning and is a fine addition to the Köner collection.
8618 Hits
This two disc set is comprised of installations and live performances and, despite some interesting departures from Köner's recent output, is encumbered by its scope and formlessness.
4551 Hits
Clairecords
This Michigan group can also be added to the list of unexpected treatsduring the Terrastock 5 festival. Their new full-length album is also aburst of instrumental rock energy, introduced through a wall ofoverdriven guitar noise in a short introductory track "Detroit." Fromthe start, the instruments are tactfully given their own breathing roomfrom each other so the ebbs and flows of repeated phrases don't easilyfade into a dreary oblivion. The band picks up speed with the morelavish "Tall Winds," incorporating more movement within the melodies,and by the third and fourth track, the group has shifted gears into alive performance mode, blurring the lines between songs' endings andbeginnings. Songs like "Purple," and "Ghost Ship" open with a melodyprovided by bass guitar, with creative and consise drumming, but eachare predictably overcome by the gritty sounds of loud guitars, theformer ending in an anthemic wash that turns into an almost directionedimprovisation. While I'm fond of the appropriate production decisionson this album and can hear a group which uses a bit of restrain when itcomes to stepping on each others toes, I feel like there's somethingmissing which was clearly "there" at their live shows. Perhaps this ishow I will constantly feel about recorded drone rock albums, but it'sthat intangible further development which could hypothetically be acatalyst to something incredible.
This Michigan group can also be added to the list of unexpected treatsduring the Terrastock 5 festival. Their new full-length album is also aburst of instrumental rock energy, introduced through a wall ofoverdriven guitar noise in a short introductory track "Detroit." Fromthe start, the instruments are tactfully given their own breathing roomfrom each other so the ebbs and flows of repeated phrases don't easilyfade into a dreary oblivion. The band picks up speed with the morelavish "Tall Winds," incorporating more movement within the melodies,and by the third and fourth track, the group has shifted gears into alive performance mode, blurring the lines between songs' endings andbeginnings. Songs like "Purple," and "Ghost Ship" open with a melodyprovided by bass guitar, with creative and consise drumming, but eachare predictably overcome by the gritty sounds of loud guitars, theformer ending in an anthemic wash that turns into an almost directionedimprovisation. While I'm fond of the appropriate production decisionson this album and can hear a group which uses a bit of restrain when itcomes to stepping on each others toes, I feel like there's somethingmissing which was clearly "there" at their live shows. Perhaps this ishow I will constantly feel about recorded drone rock albums, but it'sthat intangible further development which could hypothetically be acatalyst to something incredible.
3731 Hits
Strange Attractors
I have no problems with countlessly referring to the awesome Terrastockfestival last year. With Terrastock, as opposed to pretty much anyover-hyped multi-band fest, it's an opportunity to see some uncommonbands mixed in with the more popular fanfare. Sure, everybody lovestalking about ATP, CMJ and SXSW, but nearly all of those bands tourextensively and play sizable shows all their own. Bands like Kinski,Motorpsycho and this San Franciscan quartet were some of the unexpectedtasty treats the crowds were wowed to in September in Boston, alongsidethe omnipresent Sonic Youth (do they -ever- turn down a fest?), Damonand Naomi, and Acid Mothers Temple. While SubArachnoid Space are hardlya new band, the sound that night was somewhat of a new sound for thegroup. While they dished out the instrumental distortion-heavy guitarwork, the rhythm section was doing something quite exciting andrefreshing. The drummer and bassist had a dub thing going on betweenthem which worked in a peculiar yet delicious way. Talking to the groupand some fans afterwards, I was disappointed to find out that theirolder recordings, some of which were available that night, were notrepresentative of the show. It's now almost April and their currentalbum is finally available. Unfortunately, that dub-like vibe remainsonly a fading memory as it was clearly not captured. "The Harsh Factsof Life" is a strong opening to the album and showcases a tightly-knitgroup with a bass and drums clearly in sync with each other while theguitars drone on. While SubArachnoid Space's sound is clearly takingthe bombastic, quiet/loud approach popularized by numerous angryinstrumental rock bands over the last few years, the group's melodictendencies are more towards long, drawn out parts more remeniscent ofmusic from a couple decades back. Much like an improvisationalensemble, the band begins with a strong idea and lets themselves getcarried away. This is a tactic which works well in a live setting, butappropriately capturing rehearsed improvisation for a studio albumisn't the easiest task. Unfortunately, the down side is that to me thismusic becomes almost too predictable at times, with songs that startoff strong but end up in a rather sparse and directionless wash whilethe band often repeats themselves, meandering through hollow, lengthydrones. With that in mind, I'm anxious to see the band live again,because in that environment it works much better. On top of that I needsome sort of indication that my memory isn't lying to me at this point.
I have no problems with countlessly referring to the awesome Terrastockfestival last year. With Terrastock, as opposed to pretty much anyover-hyped multi-band fest, it's an opportunity to see some uncommonbands mixed in with the more popular fanfare. Sure, everybody lovestalking about ATP, CMJ and SXSW, but nearly all of those bands tourextensively and play sizable shows all their own. Bands like Kinski,Motorpsycho and this San Franciscan quartet were some of the unexpectedtasty treats the crowds were wowed to in September in Boston, alongsidethe omnipresent Sonic Youth (do they -ever- turn down a fest?), Damonand Naomi, and Acid Mothers Temple. While SubArachnoid Space are hardlya new band, the sound that night was somewhat of a new sound for thegroup. While they dished out the instrumental distortion-heavy guitarwork, the rhythm section was doing something quite exciting andrefreshing. The drummer and bassist had a dub thing going on betweenthem which worked in a peculiar yet delicious way. Talking to the groupand some fans afterwards, I was disappointed to find out that theirolder recordings, some of which were available that night, were notrepresentative of the show. It's now almost April and their currentalbum is finally available. Unfortunately, that dub-like vibe remainsonly a fading memory as it was clearly not captured. "The Harsh Factsof Life" is a strong opening to the album and showcases a tightly-knitgroup with a bass and drums clearly in sync with each other while theguitars drone on. While SubArachnoid Space's sound is clearly takingthe bombastic, quiet/loud approach popularized by numerous angryinstrumental rock bands over the last few years, the group's melodictendencies are more towards long, drawn out parts more remeniscent ofmusic from a couple decades back. Much like an improvisationalensemble, the band begins with a strong idea and lets themselves getcarried away. This is a tactic which works well in a live setting, butappropriately capturing rehearsed improvisation for a studio albumisn't the easiest task. Unfortunately, the down side is that to me thismusic becomes almost too predictable at times, with songs that startoff strong but end up in a rather sparse and directionless wash whilethe band often repeats themselves, meandering through hollow, lengthydrones. With that in mind, I'm anxious to see the band live again,because in that environment it works much better. On top of that I needsome sort of indication that my memory isn't lying to me at this point.
3636 Hits
"They bestride the Earth." John Peel said that once on his old BBC World Service show to introduce a Fall song and as a vague reference to how he would often stretch his own programming rules in their case. I feel the same way about Mika Vainio. Unfair preferential treatment is in order and a new release must be celebrated. Vainio's recorded works have been in the areas of techno (as √ò, Philus), installations (Onko), out electro-rock (Pan Sonic and Endless), and finally soundscapes, which is where In The Land belongs together with Kajo and Ydin. In this context and that of nineties and naughties electronica, In The Land is hardly radical but it is exceptional.
3444 Hits
Matador
Invariably, the image of an artist has to have a measured effect ontheir music, be it a positive or negative one. Some bands are all imageand can't muster a good song to meet it, while others have full soundsand amazing songs but absolutely no image. Pavement certainly fit inthe latter category, a band that had so little self image they couldn'teven properly announce their own demise. With Pavement gone, StephenMalkmus emerged from the ashes to make music that is all image, littlesubstance, and completely mediocre. What with the pin-up shots formen's magazines and interviews about his sex life, it seems Mr. Malkmushas had little time to formulate anything besides a passable effort onhis second solo LP, which also marks the first time he's shared thebill with his backing band the Jicks. He still has a knack for quirky,understated lyrics, and no one can take that away from him, but themusic on Pig Libis in stylistic shambles. Some fans have tried to explain it away withterms like "indie prog" and lengthy descriptions of the darker imagery,but they can't describe around the fact that it's dull. True, Malkmusgets closer to the Pavement sound on this record only in that it'ssloppier than his last release. The band does sound more in tune witheach other, like these songs are creations of the whole crew, but theytrip along like a wounded animal rather than stroll or strut. From theplayful nature of "Water and a Seat," with its call and answer andcacophonous backing vocals to the too long jam of "1% of One," Malkmusdoes sound more comfortable in his voice and the melodies are prettycatchy. That makes it all the more disappointing when there's no payoff. The songs that have promise are too short, and the ones that havenowhere to go get there and stay there far too long. I started gettinginto the album a little on "(Do Not Feed The) Oyster," but was turnedaway by the drum roll break into jam territory. All over the album areannoying sounds and noises, usually the overly campy keyboards fromMike Clark and Malkmus himself. Anchoring it all together is anoverwhelming feeling that this record exists only as a marketing tool,released just so Malkmus can say he "stretched his legs" on a releaseand "tried something different." Malkmus' image is the only thing thatholds this record together and the reason why rabid fans have alreadybought every copy on the shelves in the local record shop. For mostfans, the man can do no wrong. For me, he certainly tried to do wrongall over this record, and sometimes he succeeded beyond all doubt orreason.
Invariably, the image of an artist has to have a measured effect ontheir music, be it a positive or negative one. Some bands are all imageand can't muster a good song to meet it, while others have full soundsand amazing songs but absolutely no image. Pavement certainly fit inthe latter category, a band that had so little self image they couldn'teven properly announce their own demise. With Pavement gone, StephenMalkmus emerged from the ashes to make music that is all image, littlesubstance, and completely mediocre. What with the pin-up shots formen's magazines and interviews about his sex life, it seems Mr. Malkmushas had little time to formulate anything besides a passable effort onhis second solo LP, which also marks the first time he's shared thebill with his backing band the Jicks. He still has a knack for quirky,understated lyrics, and no one can take that away from him, but themusic on Pig Libis in stylistic shambles. Some fans have tried to explain it away withterms like "indie prog" and lengthy descriptions of the darker imagery,but they can't describe around the fact that it's dull. True, Malkmusgets closer to the Pavement sound on this record only in that it'ssloppier than his last release. The band does sound more in tune witheach other, like these songs are creations of the whole crew, but theytrip along like a wounded animal rather than stroll or strut. From theplayful nature of "Water and a Seat," with its call and answer andcacophonous backing vocals to the too long jam of "1% of One," Malkmusdoes sound more comfortable in his voice and the melodies are prettycatchy. That makes it all the more disappointing when there's no payoff. The songs that have promise are too short, and the ones that havenowhere to go get there and stay there far too long. I started gettinginto the album a little on "(Do Not Feed The) Oyster," but was turnedaway by the drum roll break into jam territory. All over the album areannoying sounds and noises, usually the overly campy keyboards fromMike Clark and Malkmus himself. Anchoring it all together is anoverwhelming feeling that this record exists only as a marketing tool,released just so Malkmus can say he "stretched his legs" on a releaseand "tried something different." Malkmus' image is the only thing thatholds this record together and the reason why rabid fans have alreadybought every copy on the shelves in the local record shop. For mostfans, the man can do no wrong. For me, he certainly tried to do wrongall over this record, and sometimes he succeeded beyond all doubt orreason.
3614 Hits
United Dairies
For those who either missed or were unable to get the Horse HospitalCD release last year, the Nurse With Wound contribution, "Salt," hasnow basically been expanded. In its original 60+ minute form, the musicpretty much played as a loop for the entire duration. The sound wavedback and forth between two chords, providing a cold and creepy feelingof ship being lost at sea. The purpose for the original work wasoriginally to provide aural ambience to the art exhibit at the HorseHospital gallery. With this version, efforts have been made to makethis more of a foreground-listening experience, but there's honestlynot much else added. Along with the fluctuating orchestral-like chords,other loops are added bit by bit, including sounds that resemble apassing car, a boat horn, piano, creaking boards, and a creaky door. Ataround the 18-minute mark, all extraneous sounds taken out, leaving thesound of water. Eventually the water fades out, leaving only thedroning two chords. Effects fade off shortly thereafter and the droneeventually dies. NWW fans expecting something dense and maximalisticlike An Awkward Pause will probably not enjoy this album as much as fans of the droning NWW heard on albums like Soliloquoy for Lilith or A Missing Sense.
For those who either missed or were unable to get the Horse HospitalCD release last year, the Nurse With Wound contribution, "Salt," hasnow basically been expanded. In its original 60+ minute form, the musicpretty much played as a loop for the entire duration. The sound wavedback and forth between two chords, providing a cold and creepy feelingof ship being lost at sea. The purpose for the original work wasoriginally to provide aural ambience to the art exhibit at the HorseHospital gallery. With this version, efforts have been made to makethis more of a foreground-listening experience, but there's honestlynot much else added. Along with the fluctuating orchestral-like chords,other loops are added bit by bit, including sounds that resemble apassing car, a boat horn, piano, creaking boards, and a creaky door. Ataround the 18-minute mark, all extraneous sounds taken out, leaving thesound of water. Eventually the water fades out, leaving only thedroning two chords. Effects fade off shortly thereafter and the droneeventually dies. NWW fans expecting something dense and maximalisticlike An Awkward Pause will probably not enjoy this album as much as fans of the droning NWW heard on albums like Soliloquoy for Lilith or A Missing Sense.
3498 Hits
