This is an unusual duo with an unusual pedigree, as Zeigler is a Philadelphia engineer best known for working with artists like Kurt Vile and The War on Drugs, while Lattimore is a harpist who has worked with all kinds of interesting folks in the past, ranging from Jarvis Cocker to Wrekmeister Harmonies.  Together, they create something that would have been perfectly at home on 2013's fascinating I Am The Center compilation…almost.  While Lattimore's rippling harp weaves a gently hallucinatory and dreamlike spell that veers close to both New Age and chamber music at times, Zeigler's well-placed guitar and synth coloration gives these four pieces a welcome heft and unpredictability.  Admittedly, the balance between pastoral and avant garde is not always quite optimal, but this is nevertheless a strong and distinctive debut.
As Terence Hannum's primary project Locrian continues its transition from a small drone project to a more diverse and recognizable behemoth on a large label, recording in major studios, Via Negativa thematically functions as a "remembering his roots" record. Recorded alone in his basement studio, the DIY ethos of his early days is obviously present, but the music is as professional as it comes.
Respectfully revisiting the early sounds defined the second wave of industrial, the one associated with the likes of Skinny Puppy and KMFDM, this Texas duo’s penchant for vintage sounds and minimalist structures definitely show their influences. The songs merge together into a delightfully gray, meandering bit of rhythmic industrial music that is tastefully understated but never dull.
The title of this (surprisingly first) recorded collaboration between Akita and Duncan certainly conjures images of similarly titled works that are regarded for their brilliance (Prince), or drastic shifts for the worst (Metallica). Other than the fact that it is the first work between these two legendary artists, it does not carry the same monolithic weight sonically. It is, however, still a powerful collaboration that reflects both artists’ strengths quite well.
At first I was not sure how this box set slipped by me when it was released last year, but then I remember this is Merzbow we are talking about. He puts out more boxes in a year than most artists do single albums. This is one, however, that should not have gone overlooked. As indicated by the title, this is Masami Akita not alone, but with Kiyoshi Mizutani, and consists of ten discs of raw improvised sessions recorded between 1987 and 1989. Deeply entrenched in the Akita’s junk noise phase, it a sprawling, yet captivating document of the best years of Merzbow.
Although released concurrently with Tombs by Denovali, Loss is actually London engineer/musician Tim Garratt's second effort as Moon Zero.  While it shares Tombs’ unique approach of being composed and recorded entirely in an empty church, Loss is the fruit of Garratt's attempt to transform his aesthetic into something that he could perform live, resulting in a much more muscular, rhythmic approach without sacrificing much of the ghostly ambience that made his earlier compositions so compelling.  At its best, Loss resembles something like a rawer and more spontaneous Tim Hecker with a few very cool tricks up his sleeve.
Although I absolutely loved 2011's Crossing the Pass, By Torchlight album, I had a hard time keeping up with the flood of divergent releases Brian Pyle has unleashed over the last year or so.  As far as I can tell, however, Melt Into Nothing continues along Fever Logic’s path towards darkwave and '80s goth, which is a very curious move.  As noted by Denovali, that arguably makes this Pyle’s most accessible album, but only because it has some vocals and occupies a niche that some people are interested in right now.  In a broader sense, however, I think Brian's weirder, more abstract material is much more attention-grabbing and rewarding than any of the mostly forgotten bands that he is paying homage to here.  That said, Pyle is not one to go for mere pastiche and he still managed to strikes gold with at least one piece.
What began as a lighter side project to Richard Chartier’s more academic work under his own name has evolved into its own distinct entity. Featuring some high profile vocal collaborations, including William Basinski, Cosey Fanni Tutti, and Kid Congo Powers, Description of Problem has Chartier expanding his kitchy project even further, into a dark, sexy album that adds another glittering jewel into his discography.
Wallace Stevens wrote "July Mountain" in the last year of his life, suffering from stomach cancer. A recognition of mortality and imperfection hides in his poem’s first eight lines. They gently and beautifully remind the reader that life on earth is a fragmented thing, and that there are no conclusions, no full and final stops that shine a light on all the dark corners in the world. Instead we are all "thinkers without final thoughts in an always incipient cosmos," forever watching the world and the stars spin themselves into new configurations. The poem explicitly uses music as an image for that interminable metamorphosis, and Michael Pisaro’s composition of the same name demonstrates just how apt an image it is. July Mountain (Three Versions) illustrates Stevens’s contention, combining field recordings with incredibly stealthy musical contributions provided by Greg Stuart. Bowed snare drums, piano, bird calls, jet engines, and numerous other sounds, from sine tones to insects, unexpectedly coalesce over its 21 minutes, forming a quivering and effervescent peak for anyone willing to make the ascent.
With the reissue of the Cabs' mid-period work last year and Richard H. Kirk's revival of the name for some upcoming performances, this boxed set arrives at just the right time to help brush up on his voluminous solo projects. Compiling three albums released digitally in the past few years, it does an exceptional job at capturing at least part of his multiple personalities, and if nothing else demonstrates just how relevant he continues to be.
Hubrizine sees Theologian's extremely prolific Lee Bartow reworking material provided by the duo of Jasse Tuukki and Toni Myöhänen (Strom.ec) into a noisy mass of sci-fi tinged electronics in tribute to Philip K. Dick. Even with the large number of Theologian releases, he shapes this material into an album that shapes the ugliness of noise into captivating musical structures with an impressive depth that makes for a distinct, unique sounding record.
These two new releases from Deupree's 12k label have him working in very different capacities. On his collaborative release with Vitiello, his sonic perfectionism is the focus, all hushed melody and introspective expanses of sound. On the compilation, however, he opens up a bit and shares some early versions and sketches, warts and all, that leads to a very different experience.
Excitotoxicity is an unwanted process where neurons become over-activated from a surplus of the neurotransmitter glutamate, resulting in cell death and, ultimately, tissue damage and degeneration. Essentially, neurons receive too much stimulation causing the usually well-balanced internal physiology of each cell to become off-kilter and produce excessive levels of harmful molecules that break the neuron down from the inside-out. It is believed to be an underlying part of a number of serious neurological diseases including motor neuron disease, a disease that Graham Bowers has become a victim of. This album is partly a musical diary, an artistic interpretation of neurophysiological processes and a very human response to an unfathomable loss of control.
Recently remastered and reissued on their own Geometrik label with radically different cover art and some bonus tracks, this classic 1992 album captures EG in their noisy, rhythmic industrial prime. Like 1991's Sheikh Aljama before it, Arispejal Astisaró flirts with a superficial Middle Eastern influence, but the real draw is its dense and relentlessly punishing machine rhythms. As with many EG efforts, it is sort of a primitive, hit-or-miss affair that largely lives or dies on the strength of its beats, but its highpoints are among the most visceral, bracing, and distinctive works of industrial dance music's brief golden age (and its occasional divergences are even better).
Protection is a long-gestating synth duo consisting of New Orleans' Sam Houston and NYC's Daniel McKernan, the latter of whom has collaborated with both Coil and Cyclobe in the past. Given that pedigree, it is not surprising that this debut EP boasts a distinct Coil influence, but that nocturnal, hallucinatory thread is wonderfully bolstered by both a knack for strong hooks and a guest appearance by the always charismatic Little Annie.
This material is a series of soundtracks that Rutger Zuydervelt composed to complement Esther Kokmeijer's short films of Antarctica and Greenland, thus fitting in well with this Italian label's frigid, isolationist aesthetic.  Rather than overemphasizing minimalism and emptiness, Zuydervelt instead works in subtle and understated conventional electronic moments in, giving the album a unique feel rather than by-the-book sparseness that could have been.
The Touch label's extensive roster only has a few artists who would be considered classical in the traditional sense, and Hildur Gudnadottir is one of those.  With instrumentation consisting only of her cello and her voice on some of these pieces, and guest musician Skuli Sverrisson on bass for one of them, Saman is a stripped down affair that excels at what it intends to do, but does not step out of that comfort zone either.
The title of this Australian artist’s latest album is extremely fitting.  Passages of roughly edited tape, collages of indecipherable found sounds, and bizarre production is disorienting at best, and downright baffling much of the time.  It is because of this confusing, jarring, and sometimes frightening nature that the disc works so well.
As a split release with each artist submitting three pieces, the pairing is perfect.  The two projects share similar aesthetics and aptitude in their own take on modern industrial music.  Even though their individual work is clearly distinct from each other, the two fit together very well into a cohesive whole.
As one of the major triumvirate of Italian power electronics (alongside Atrax Morgue/Marco Corbelli and Mauthausen Orchestra/Pierpaolo Zoppo), Moreno Daldosso has not released any new material in over a decade, and Der Totenkopf may be his final recording. With his two peers no longer with us, this record serves as an epitaph for this distinct group of artists, and it fits right in amongst the best of those albums.
