Rough Trade
This four-piece art-rock outfit is from the misty, seaside town ofBrighton, England. Yet, proximity to the salty brine of the Atlantichas had more of an impact on their wardrobe than their music. Dressedon stage in military regalia cross-bred with Boy Scout fashion, BritishSea Power look more like retired ship captains than a band. Combinethis with their penchant for naturalistic stage sets—consisting ofstrategically placed trees, limbs and large, stuffed birds—and youmight begin to think this band is all image and no substance.Musically, "Childhood Memories" disguises itself as laid back tune, butemerges as a stunning rocker. It opens with a deceivingly subtle, yetterribly catchy hook that occasionally builds up into something larger,only to come down gently to where it began. The tension that thisbuilds finally explodes at the end, as the guitars swarm together tobuild a wall of sound behind lead singer Yan's repeated chant of "Andwe go, and we go, and we go!" The B-side, labeled as "Favours in theBeetroot Fields," is actually the (supposedly) CD exclusive track"Strange Communication." It's a gentle, breezy track dominated by Yan'slonging vocals and lyrics such as "Well I don't even remember thefall/and I don't even remember at all/and you'll probably never see meagain/Such a strange communication," display how, after a couple ofhit-and-miss early singles, this band has finally come into their own.With a full-length on its way, it's perfect timing.
This four-piece art-rock outfit is from the misty, seaside town ofBrighton, England. Yet, proximity to the salty brine of the Atlantichas had more of an impact on their wardrobe than their music. Dressedon stage in military regalia cross-bred with Boy Scout fashion, BritishSea Power look more like retired ship captains than a band. Combinethis with their penchant for naturalistic stage sets—consisting ofstrategically placed trees, limbs and large, stuffed birds—and youmight begin to think this band is all image and no substance.Musically, "Childhood Memories" disguises itself as laid back tune, butemerges as a stunning rocker. It opens with a deceivingly subtle, yetterribly catchy hook that occasionally builds up into something larger,only to come down gently to where it began. The tension that thisbuilds finally explodes at the end, as the guitars swarm together tobuild a wall of sound behind lead singer Yan's repeated chant of "Andwe go, and we go, and we go!" The B-side, labeled as "Favours in theBeetroot Fields," is actually the (supposedly) CD exclusive track"Strange Communication." It's a gentle, breezy track dominated by Yan'slonging vocals and lyrics such as "Well I don't even remember thefall/and I don't even remember at all/and you'll probably never see meagain/Such a strange communication," display how, after a couple ofhit-and-miss early singles, this band has finally come into their own.With a full-length on its way, it's perfect timing. 
Tigerbeat6's website describes Deathas a remix album "by people who love Numbers, for people who loveNumbers," and it's an apt statement. Though you don't have to befamiliar with Numbers Life to enjoy these remixes, itdefinitely helps. Most of the remixes find Numbers' raw energychanneled onto the dancefloor, and why shouldn't they? After all, thehistory of the remix is rooted in the 12" single. Most remixers havefun with their interpretations of the songs, and it makes sense thatthey would—Numbers is a fun band. Gold Chains opens Death witha much-expected cheeky, clubby, self-referencing take on "Prison Life,"complete with a skit and a '77-style punk outro; Dymaxion'ssample-heavy "What is the Product?" is well-constructed and, though itbarely avoids being overly-quirky with its Speak'n'Spell samples, fitswell within the Numbers aesthetic. Kid 606's obligatory remix (of "WeLike Having These Things") is undeniably (and uncharachteristically?)catchy with a melodic pulsing bassline, and the Numan-esque synth soloat the end is really quite pretty. GD Luxxe's "Get Away Mix" of "PrisonLife" comes closest to the perfect remix in the traditional sense ofthe term. He keeps the basic feel of the song intact, reproducing theoriginal bassline and sampling Numbers' vocals, while adding verses ofhis own. The end result is a remix that stays true to the sourcematerial, while at the same time becoming a definitive GD Luxxe track.Caro and Kit Clayton also add their own lyrics to their interpretationsof "Intercom," and "Information," respectively, but it's GD Luxxe'strack that works best in this respect. The most notable divergence fromthe four-on-the-floor is Stars As Eyes, who buck the trend byconverting "I'm Shy" (retitled "I Have a Headache This Big") into adark post-rock anthem, propelled by a one-note guitar line a la theSupremes' "Keep Me Hanging On." Credit should also be given to Stars AsEyes for being one of the only remixers to utilize Indra Duris' drumsounds, instead of replacing them with a quantized drum machine beat.As with any remix album, there are some less-than-stellar tracks, butthey're in the minorit. (If I'm forced to name names: Dwayne Sodahberk,DAT Politics, and Uprock.) Most likely the reason that Deathworks better than most remix albums is because Numbers' source materialis open-ended enough to allow a myriad of remixing possibilities, mostof which are just damned catchy.
Palestine's music is not very well known today, partly because thereare few recordings available, but also because he moved on to othermedia as the massive commercialism of minimalist music developed in thelate seventies and eighties. His seemingly narrow escape from the titleof "minimalist composer" was fortuitous since what that has come toimply in musical terms today does no justice to his work. His music isdistinct from what became mainstream minimalism by its focus on soundrather than process and its deep emotional expressionism as opposed toaesthetics, grandeur and polish. Thus Morton Feldman is a much closerneighbor than is Steve Reich. "Schlingen-Blängen" is a drone organpiece which demonstrates Palestine's genius for pulling unbelievablesounds, colors and effects out of a familiar instrument. It isbasically one chord sustained for seventy minutes with infrequentadditions and removals of tones and changes of registration. Thisapproach to making music, of using stasis to force the listener intoconcentration on the sound itself, is very difficult to do well and Ihave never heard it so successfully performed as on this disk. First,there is the choice of the initial chord and its registration andalready it is clear that the musician has exquisite taste andexpressive powers, not unlike Messiaen in those aspects. Then beginsthe impressionism. The old Dutch organ in the church of the smallFriesland village of Farmsum Delftzijl starts magically to sing its ownmelodies and rhythms without the player needing to move any controls.The illusion of rapid activity is the result of interferences among thecomponents of the chord within the organ and the church. Such effectsare not unfamiliar but their depth and extent here are staggering.Above the dazzling impressionism is the expressionism, these rapidcycles of intensity, melody and colors, as though they were playingsome non-existent process-music score, are as painfully beautiful asthe original chord. Palestine's comment, "I'm the living hybrid in myown work of the physical gesturality of Jackson Pollock and thespiritual color chemistry of Mark Rothko," hits the nail on the head.The quality of the recording conveys enough of the massive physicalityof the experience to be satisfying while still conveying the sadnessthat one couldn't have been there. The acoustic space of the old churchis precisely rendered. Anyone that enjoys drone music and static soundpainting in any genre should own this CD—Charlemagne Palestine's musicis the archetype. 
If Matmos albums can be considered electronic records for the mind,Drew Daniel's first full-length record as Soft Pink Truth isundoubtedly an electronic record for the ass. Do You Party?should probably contain a warning that 'chunky subhuman basslines atloud levels (from the opening track, "Everybody's Soft" and permeatingthroughout the entire disc) may cause uncontrollable rhythmic pelvicmovement.' Here, Daniel has gotten in touch with his sexy inner discodiva, still dancing down at Club Uranus. Do You Party? like acoming-out party, where everything that has been building up for yearsfinally manifests and explodes for the whole world to see, hear, feeland enjoy. Along with catchy melodies and punchy beats, the album is aparty mix littered with samples upon samples, tactfully andrhythmically integrated words and sounds accent beats which make for alisten both entertaining as it is dancable. The overload of samples islike a box full of a collection of keychains or souvenir spoons thatfinally needs to be emptied from the quirky "girl oh girl" samples from"Tender Studies" to grunting and groaning samples elsewhere. BlecchyBlevin Blectum has joined in for a vocal contribution to thehead-spinning Vanity 6 cover tune "Make Up," thumping enough to givemost electroclashers an example to follow. Daniel's partner in crime,Martin has donated a few synth lines here and there, but sounds ofsurgery or other musically-forged field recordings are nowhere to befound. This album isn't built for headphonic solitude or an employer'scomputer speakers, but can be fully appreciated on a bass-flatteringsound system, in the clubs, at home, or in a vehicle pimped-out withcustom rims and tinted windows. What you -can- enjoy on your computer,however, is the bonus of the included video for "Promofunk." Now ifonly I could get my hands on those 12" singles. 
Back in 1998, "Transmissions From Scumsburg," my weekly industrial andexperimental radio show on the Boston University student-run station,gave me a late-night forum to blast the blossoming genre often calleddigital hardcore. Alec Empire's DHR, the label who gave the genre itsnamesake, introduced me to such angsty, noisy acts as Bomb 20, Shizuo,EC8OR and, of course, Atari Teenage Riot. The music was pure andviolent, and its riot sounds inspired me in ways that industrial musicno longer did. Then, at the zenith of the label's popularity, it madenumerous bad decisions, giving too much attention to god-awfulside-projects (Nintendo Teenage Robots and She-Satellites) anduninspiring new acts (Fever and Lolita Storm). The label had lost allof the vital energy that kept it relevant, and it wasn't long beforepeople stopped caring about any music it put out. During this fall fromgrace, Atari Teenage Riot's original frontwoman Hanin Elias started upthe Fatal imprint on the label, showcasing music exclusively made bywomen. While the idea may have resembled the somewhat admirable goalsof the Seattle riot-grrrl scene, the implementation was universallydull, signified by the unoriginal white noise of Nic Endo's debut EPand Elias's own drab full-length. Sadly, on Elias's new album No Games No Fun(inaugurating the first Fatal release outside of the DHR community), itappears that those glory days are just as far away as they ever were.Even more lackluster than her last album, Elias' bad songwritingplagues the album as a whole, via murky rock tracks ("Blue") dated hiphop ("You Suck"), lo-fi electronic cuts ("Rockets Against Stones") andbland acoustic numbers ("Catpeople"). Quite frankly, Elias' voice justdoesn't work with ANY of these styles. Not even notable contributorssuch as Merzbow, J. Mascis, Khan, and even Mr. Empire himself can savethis uneven, sub-mediocre release. Still, one thing about this releaseis consistent: its title. I can assure you that this was "no fun" tolisten to. 
Electronic music has had many casualties over the years, but noneprobably as depressing as the death of drum n' bass. Unlike many genreswho have fallen victim to the same ultimate fate, drum n' bass (whichfor the sake of this review will encompass all subgenres that wouldfall under the larger grouping) found itself divided inside itself aswell as commercially exploited in a ruthless manner. In the end,corporate trend vultures and shady admen reduced the music to 30 secondloops, while those who originally loved the music splintered off into"new" genres such as garage and breakcore. Still, there are artists outthere plugging away and writing music truly evocative of the genre.However, the question lingers: does this effort even matter anymore? IfBad Company is any indication, then the answer is, sadly, no. In orderfor a genre to thrive, the music must remain interesting. Over thecourse of two CDs (one album and one continuous mix), Bad Company's Shot Down On Safarirepresents the stagnancy that helped bring down drum n' bass. From theoverused ragga vocals (particularly on "Mo' Fire") to the same oldtired breakbeats and synth effects, it becomes abundantly clear why somany people jumped ship for more progressive sounds. Admittedly, mytastes in drum n' bass have always leaned in the darkstep / techstepdirection, but this album just doesn't offer anything up worthmentioning. If for some bizarre reason after reading this review youstill feel like you want "Shot Down On Safari," rest assured that themix CD offers quite a few older tracks that reflect the brighter daysof drum n' bass.
One of the better 1990s music trends was when the remix truly evolved into an art form. Artists like Meat Beat Manifesto, The Orb, and Autechre were some of the first who not only transformed a song into something almost completely new, but left their mark with a distinguishable sound that made the new version identifiably their own.
Timonium's songs have always been contemplative. Narcotic melodiescombine to create themes which repeat over and over, as if to bash youon the head. It's as if, at one moment, you had no earthly idea thesesounds existed in unison, but then you hear them and you becomedependent on them, uncertain whether you can go on living without them.To have these themes repeated over and over in a song, then, becomes ablessing rather than a curse, blissful rather than tedious. So perhaps"caressing" would be more suitable than "bashing," but keep in mindthat there are these incredibly loud moments in Timonium's songs wherethe caressing does in fact become bashing, though it is a thrashing onegladly accepts. 'Until He Finds Us' compacts these tensile melodiesinto shorter statements, but the songs remain long and contemplative byvirtue of more complex song structure. The exception which threatens toprove me wrong is the compact (3 minutes) first song, "Populations,"which touts a kinetic sound that never really explodes, but whichmanages to get the listener all worked up (accomplished largely by thedrum rhythms). I like to think of this song as a preamble to the wholealbum, and I think it works well like this. In previous albums, theband would use a combination of finely-wrought statements together withsweeping changes in dynamics (think Bedhead). Timonium has now addedtempo changes and time signature changes to their arsenal. "SolemnCorridors," for instance, embarks as a slow and somber song which ispunctuated by short guitar chords on the up beat, but halfway throughit switches time signatures and starts to rock significantly harder,all the while maintaining a melody which links these two disparatesections of the song like Siamese twins (except that these twins lookentirely normal and natural conjoined at the melody, and you wouldnever think of staring in bewilderment or averting your gaze inrevulsion). Timonium is growing up, and their music is likewisebecoming more complex. The whispery male and female vocals remainrefreshingly understated in most of the songs, letting the musicenvelope them rather than dominating the song. They do happen to peakout confidently in the louder parts, but it's only momentarily andalways proper. The messianic overtones of the album title and lyricshave the effect of turning this album into a type of post-rock hymnal,with lots of talk of blood, wounds, and rebirth. Somehow, even rocksand marble are imbued with some religious significance. Then again,there is just as much talk of birds, griffins, and trees. I am unsurewhat to make of it all, but I do challenge you to put the line "Ipissed in your mouth" in a song and have it sound as placid andsoothing as Timonium are able to. If there is a moment of ascension, itcomes early on in the album, in the song "Across the Footlights" (whichhas another attention-grabbing shift in time signature). You'll knowthe moment when it hits you just by the sheer glory of the sound, butwhether you're ready for it is an entirely different discussion. 
The original cassette-only release of this (recorded in 1981/82,released 1983) is possibly my favorite of the Dots' cassette releases.Unlike the Chemical Playschool compilations, Basiliskwas threadded and sequenced like a conventional album with a clearlydistinguishable first and second side. After witnessing the rather sadtreatment a lot of the old cassettes got for CD reissue, I wasskeptical about this. Thankfully I have been wrong this time. For acassette which even comes with a note from Edward Ka-Spel himselfapologizing for not being able to locate the original master, the soundquality is incredible, far superior to Stained Glass Soma Fountains, Under Triple Moons,and even some of the Ka-Spel solo material mastered off vinyl. Mybiggest gripe is actually in the easier tasks of coordinating a releaselike this. I absolutely hate the way the original cassette is indexedby only three track marks for the CD, despite the first containingnumerous songs, (even with clear silences), but that can be dealt with.Much of the music contained was revisited and resurfaced on otherreleases long ago. The looped chorus of angel-like voices singing "singwhile you may" which opens the album popped up first on the LegendaryPink Box along with "Clean Up," while the instrumental piece, "LoveIs..." later became "Love Puppets" for the Curse LP. The melody from "Basilisk One" and "Basilisk Two" was revived as "Flesh Parade," "Wall Purges Night" was re-recorded for Curse,while "Methods" became an Edward Ka-Spel solo tune. What's left is alot of really cool, but eerie noise noodling which takes up most ofside two as "Basilisk Two" and a couple really short songs buried deepin track one as "Basilisk Part One" on this CD. In addition to theoriginal 60-ish minutes are some strange songs from the vaults: "IdealHome," recorded in 1981 featuring Keith Thompson as lead vocalist andan early unreleased version of "The Glory, The Glory," also allegedlyfrom 1981. But they didn't stop there. It's hardly a CDreissue/remaster job without some song tossed in completely out ofcontext. With this release, it's a version of "The Ocean Cried BlueMurder," but this one, as the title (and sounds) suggests was probablyrecorded "on a ferry in a storm on a walkman." All cynicism aside, it'sa great audio document to finally own, despite the appalling fontchoices, but then again, good LPD cover artwork is a rarity (especiallywith reissues). With any luck, Bernard and Raymond Steeg will be ableto "enhance" Atomic Roses and Premonition for thatupcoming release along with other cassette-only things. I leavechanting "Traumstadt 4," "Traumstadt 4," "Traumstadt 4," "Traumstadt4!"
The Dutch duo Beequeen has been digging into their archives lately,discouraging the collector-scum by making their rare releases andconcert recordings available to the public in greater quanity. I'vebeen a fan of both members' work for many years. Freek Kinkelaar'sLegendary Pink Dots-ish solo recordings as Brunnen yeilded three finealbums in the 1990s, and Frans de Waard's many recordings as KapotteMuziek, Quest, Shifts, and Captain Black are things I have beenenthusiastically seeking out since I was in high school (a long timeago, folks). The Beequeen sound is generally a lush, subtly melodicdrone with subdued electronic crackle, a nice inbetween point betweende Waard's abstractions and Kinkelaar's low-key pop sense. This latestdisc compiles music intended for release in 1998, four tracks that wereto be released as an LP and two that were to be an unlikelycollaborative 10" with Japanese noise "band" MSBR. 
The second edition of madness that is the Cerberus Shoal split-CDseries finds the Shoal trading songs with Alvarius B, with the intentof both artists recording each other's songs as well as their own.Alvarius B may be a name unknown to many, having recorded two LPs andlittle else, but it's the alias chosen by Sun City Girls guitarist AlanBishop. His music is acoustic folk, mostly, and his songs are justshort of justification for FBI monitoring. A title like "Blood Baby" isa pretty big clue towards the mood of the piece, and "Viking Christmas"may seem innocuous while it's everything but. The music is simple,merely there to underlie B's voice, which makes the compositions allthe more chilling. The chopping of babies and other flesh seems to bethe common theme for B's songs, and he delivers it all with a calm andmatter-of-factness that disturbs as well as it impresses. Occasionally,he gets into character, adding a realism and bite that sends shivers.Ghostly voices join in, cackling and haunting, and B seems almostresolute as his share of the nightmare concludes. The Shoal then takeAlvarius B's songs and make them more bombastic and grandiose, as wellas a bit more murderous. Horns, shakers, piano, and percussion providethe groundwork for the blood choir that makes "Blood Baby." There'shushed whispers, empassioned and insane vocals, and sounds that appearout of nowhere only to disappear again. This song is not to be listenedto in the dark. "Viking Christmas" is bludgeoned into the "Auld LangSyne" of a beer hall serial killer cult, complete with the clinking ofglasses here and there. Saving the best for last, though, "The RealDing" was their sole original contribution, and their arrangement isthe prettier over B's, with a multitude of voices accompanying atypewriter as the song begins. Bizarre lyrics and unusual instrumentsmake for a rocky ride, but in the end the song is anchored by oddpercussion, banjo, and a seductive rhythm. This CD is the best yet ofthe Shoal's little project, and at this rate, the whole series will bethe year's musical sleeper, gaining strength with each volume.
Curling up with a Kristin Hersh solo album is much like curling upalone in bed with a good book late at night. There's always somethingto discover with the other route Hersh takes with her songs, headingdown the path without bombastic drums and fuzzy guitars. This timearound, Hersh has also taken a step back, completely opposing one of mytop picks of 2001, her Sunny Border Bluealbum. In 2001, Hersh was almost completely alone and filled the trackswith drums, bass and electronics, whereas here, she's assisted by HowieGelb on Piano and Andrew Bird on violin, and the songs are all acousticand drum-free. While I'm very fond of this record, I question thearrival date for a couple reasons. First of all, I always need to spenda lot of intimate time with Hersh and her songs to get as close to themas possible. Being punched twice on the same day with this and theMuses album can be something difficult to recover from. Next, The Grottois possibly one of Hersh's most reflective albums, with anindescribable feeling of coldness that only somebody growing up in NewEngland truly knows. It comes as no surprise that this album wasrecorded over the past year, which was the snowiest winter we here inthe north east USA have seen in years. It's odd to start listening tothis album in March, just as the snow's about to melt and give way to awarm, green spring. The piano and violin add something magical to heracoustic fingerpicking, providing a perfect soundtrack to the firstlight of the sun on a cloudless morning, reflecting off a snow-coveredlawn, while her words, significantly subdued from any Muses recording,are both tender and sharp. I can honestly lose hours in headphone landwith Hersh's solo albums, and while The Grotto is no exception, I might have to pull this one out again in November for the best effect. 
From David Narcizo's first ratta-tatta snare snaps of on the opener,"Mercury," I knew that this was not the Throwing Muses which picked upwhere they left off with Tanya's departure, nor was it the ThrowingMuses of the later 1990s. This was the thunderous sound remeniscent ofthe Muses that I first fell in love with on their other eponymousalbum. It's unsurprising, as this time around there's no major labelexpecting a blockbuster hit single, nor are there high production costssunk into the mix. The music was recorded in gangbuster marathonrecording sessions over a three weekends, and the raw, blisteringenergy is a very, very welcomed sound. Kristin Hersh's vocals punctureholes in an already densely packed mix of raunchy, distorted guitars,pounding basslines and driving drums from what is still a very smallkit by most standards. Be prepared for many unconventional chordstructures and melodic movements and songs which switch gears numeroustimes with swift tempo changes. Combine that with Hersh's lyrics whichneed years of therapy by a team of experts to completely unravel. Eventhen, it's nearly impossibly to tell if she's telling the truth or not,going from caustic to apologetic often within the same song (likewishing the subject of "Civil Disobedience" would choke on an aspirinand then confessing how much she's still in love). The slower songs,like "Pandora's Box," and "Speed and Sleep" are never ballads: theyjust provide a very slight bit of breathing room before the chorusesand blaring guitars stomp in. Just as I'm thinking that much of thisalbum sounds as if the band is deftly dodging high-speed traffic,recording on the pavement of a multi-lane highway, freeway referencesare made on "Status Quo!" There's still the occasionaly frisky, playfulmelodies, like both the jovial guitar riff and lyrics on "Portia,"where Hersh talks about frat boys sleeping together and how "all theworld loves a lover." "Halfblast" is probably the closest the band willget to a hit single on this record, with backup volcals from TanyaDonnelly and a singalong chorus which is nothing but an optimistic gem,counting the blessings of the beauty of people, nature and the skies.Even the album's closer, "Flying," takes an unconventional album-endingapproach, as it's aggressive, upbeat and driving as much of the rest ofthe record, without the cadence of a closing track. This approacheffectively is appetite-wetting for whatever's next from the group, andgives whoever's lucky enough to catch the Muses live something tofeverishly anticipate.
There's something slightly unlikely about the popular Due Processhybrid. The defiantly low-brow stance of the species 'ME Beauliea' withits comedic theatricals and jubilant confrontation contrasts markedlywith the seriousness, finesse, fastidious methods and criticalself-appraisal of the 'ME Lescalitus'. That this thought only occurredto me recently while watching Jason performing with Thomas Ankersmith,a musician perhaps even more intensely serious than Jason, clearlyhints at the success of the hybrid and reminds us that in breeding, asin marriage, comlimentarity can be as important as commonality. RonLessard's solo performance as Emil Beaulieau looses much from the lackof context in a recording (his budget priced videos might be a betterstarting point for the curious newcomer to America's Greatest LivingNoise Artist) and I've found that this is true to an extent also of theDue Process recordings. So it is important that Combines XIX XXgoes under the moniker 'Jason Lescalleet's Due Process' and that thisrefers -not- to the senior member of the team (Due Process has been thename of not Jason's, but Ron's various collaborations) but to Jason'sheavy hand in production; going way beyond mere editing and mastering.He has coaxed what I assume to have been live Due Process material intoa mutation, the clones of which are now available in LP format. It isby far the most accessible of this duo's releases. The music rangesfrom clearly identifiable Beaulieau antics polished up in theGlistening Labs to material that is essentially new Lescalleet musicbased off the recordings. Given that Ron has taken to using Jason'ssolo releases as source material in his own performance, and I thinkthere are examples of that here, the genealogy of Combines XIX XX is elegantly circular; rather like the shape of the LP itself and having much the same diameter.
If the analogies of botanical classification and plant breeding areapplied to the evolution and development of music and musicians thenJason Lescalleet's niche market nursery Glistening Labs, a name thatreflects its experimental agenda, has released two fascinating andpromising new clones within the genus 'Musica Electronica' ('ME'). Thefirst, with the potentially confusing name Electronic Music, is a new crossing of varieties within in the species 'ME Lescalitus' while the other, Combines XIX XXis a mutation of the robust 'Beauliea-Lescalitus' hybrid known as DueProcess. The most striking, almost freakish quality of the crossing Electronic Musicis how its emphasizes the differences between it's three parentvarieties, namely tape-loops, manipulation and synthesis. This aspectis at first quite disconcerting—there's something hallucinatory aboutthe merging of sweet sounds softened by reverb and whathaveyou with theraw, brutal sound of an untreated defective tape-loop. The differencesbetween these are toyed with and made ambiguous by greater or lesserdegrees of manipulation but, whether it's intrinsic to the music or aperceptual trick, the synthetic elements seem also to adopt the natureof the tape-loops—the ametric rhythms of physical tape defects and thepower struggle between different sounds overwriting each other withoutthe use of an erase head. Electronic Music thus fully retainsthe essential character of Lescalleet's sound while adding a new layerof complexity. The track called "Litmus Tape" is enthralling and itmeasures up the best of Jason's past output. Its powerfully tenseatmosphere is like an only half perceived, entirely alien monsterlurching around; always behind you or in the periphery, unidentifiable,sinister, but curiously fascinating and, from what you can see,beautiful. If you need to ask yourself whether or not you are dreamingthen, unless you are hallucinating, you probably are. The feeling ofunreality that begs that question is what "Litmus Tape" brings forthlike noting else I've heard. The rest of the LP is consistent with thatfeeling in different ways. The various references found in the titles,pictures, layout and materials of this desirable LP are left as anexcercise for the reader.
While my first exposure to Takemura's music was through the Child'sView material licensed in the US by Bubblecore, it wasn't until I heardhis album Scopeon Thrill Jockey that his music made a thunderous impact. Influencesfrom both Japanese traditionals and modern electronics collided with adelicate and refined attention to composition, structure and sound.Seeing Takemura live with vocalist Aki Tsuyuko on that tour drove theentire experience home for me. With the following Sign 12" and Hoshi No Koealbum, Takemura expanded on the sound, and let the music developbrilliantly, with songs that comfortably ran a full course without evergetting dull or mundane. However, his latest full-length album is adisappointment. Rather than a solid collection of 10 or so tracks, thealbum is saturated with 16 incomplete sounding compositions, stretchedto 78 minutes, nearly all exploiting the pesky Apple Macintosh voiceimitation program which (despite being a few years out of style) isirritating. The musical direction this time around leans towards moreEuropean trends, staying close to a rigid 4/4 beat and languid sounds,not entirely unlike the music coming from Morr or Bip Hop compilations.Sadly, most of the time the music sounds like it's intentionally takinga backseat to computerized vocals, which are painful by the thirdtrack, "Wandering," and downright unbearable by the seventh track, the9+ minute "Lost Treasure (4th version)." Even when Takemura drops thevoice and breaks free from the confines of 4/4 rhtyhm, the results aremediocre. Songs like "Mumble," which sound like an array of randomtones would be nice if something actually happened in its 5+ minuteother than an addition of percussion, wheras "Polymorphism," whilepleasant, could easily be new wave elevator music. Takemura's atalented composer and producer, but I'll be eagerly awaiting a 12"single remix or something to help me get past this album. 
The first song on the new Anomonoan album is called "Sixteen Ways," butI need only two words to sum it up: Grateful Dead. The promo materialhinted that this album was inspired by the birth of Ned Oldham's sonand daughter, which is a fine and noble reason to record an album, butI would question the wisdom of including a field recording of a baby'scrying (Sam Oldham, who must be one of the newborn Oldham clan)overdubbed and softly accenting the lyrics on "Sixteen Ways," which atthis point declaim the crying of a baby as reassurance that the baby isalive. That said, this is probably my best song on "Asleep Many Yearsin the Wood." The rock songs on this album have an undeniablecountry/classic rock slant and I have a hard time listening to musicthat reminds me of The Eagles or something worse. Looking through theinserts, I noticed on the back a photo of a bottle of whiskey perchedon a window sill, with the label altered to read the band name andalbum title. This is a Photoshop sleight-of-hand which I most recentlysaw featured on the cover of Motley Crue's autobiography "The Dirt,"except there it was appropriately a bottle of Jack Daniels (here, itlooks more like what once was a bottle of Old Smuggler). Despite theshared aesthetic, I could not find any songs on the Anonomoan albumwhich recalled either early or later Motley Crue, although I might beable to make a case for "Time for Change," (circa Dr. Feelgood)sounding like "Y'Know" if I tried hard enough. The most heartwarmingparts of Anomonoan songs occur in the slower songs when Ned's voiceswoops up a few octaves and teeters on the edge of high notes he canbarely hold onto. Oldham manages to cling, however tenuous the grip,and the warble and the persistence are a beautiful thing in his voice.It is different from brother Will's, but Ned's clearly evidences theOldham vocal genome. Appropriately, one of these swoops occurs in"Bluebird of Happiness" when the lyrics croon, "and there's a contrarybreeze a-blowin'." Whether the headwind is the cause or theinterpretation of Oldham's vocal wisps, he is wise to let them take thesongs where they do, for they have the power to punctuate and decoratewhat might otherwise become bland country rock songs.
In addition to being an acoustic guitar virtuoso, SteffenBasho-Junghans also delights in painting, particularly landscapes. Thisaspect of his creative life sheds light on his latest album, a soloacoustic trip though wide-open country scenes inspired by his ruralupbringing. Basho-Junghans (he adopted the surname of guitarist RobbieBasho in his thirties as an homage to his idol) approaches the projectmuch like a painting, and the guitar serves as his brush, craftingswirls and flourishes of sounds that fall back in on themselves andreemerge repeatedly. Each of the six tracks serves as a movement, asimple element in a broader scene. The twenty-minute six-string opener,"The River Suite," begins with a light ascension of plucked notes,lifting the music up and across the rapid cascade of tones that beginto rush beneath it. The music follows the stream, building, releasing,pausing, lingering, and all developing over a repeated body ofplucking. The repetition can be somewhat tiring, especially on thelonger tracks, like "The Takoma Bridge Incident." Though the ideas arecompelling in parts, they are exhausted by the end of the piece. Theshorter excursions on the second half of the album seem to discover andconvey their concepts much more effectively. "Rainbow Dancing" finds aclear melody, and stands as one of the more pleasant songs. On thistrack, Basho-Junghans switches to a twelve-string guitar, giving thetrack a lush, full-bodied sound that feeds the pastoral theme of thealbum. It sounds like how lying in a patch of sun soaked grass feels.Another advantage that "Rainbow Dancing" has is that it doesn't lingeron so long that you grow tired of its ideas. The lonely melody of"Autumn II" is perfectly evocative of the wailing voice of a bluegrassfolk spiritual. The weariness expressed by the piece gives off splashesof rust red and fading green, leading into the dusky "Epilogue." Thoughthe span of the album may be marked with lulls, the higher points of Rivers and Bridgesshine through. Basho-Junghans has produced a musical landscapepainting, complete with the valleys and crests, shadows andilluminations; the subtle nuances that make a work worth seeing.
