Tiger Style
Quick, my cat's purring, grab the microphone! Seriously, I'm continually impressed with Karla Schickele's songwriting and singing abilities, both as an integral piece of Ida, and as the boss here as K. Shickele's lyrics never sound anything less than painfully honest, and never, for once, are they remotely predictable or trite. On this, the second K album, the musical styles vary so greatly that I'm unfortunately having a hard time at certain points being completely won over musically. The broken continuity works amazingly well in the powerful "Crush Mine," as the magical superglue that seems to hold most rock songs together (the drummer) is showing strong desires for an improvisational angle. The country twang of the steel guitar on "I Am Not Willing," and "Everybody Knows Your Name," however, seems almost forced and unnatural. Instrumental diversions like the metronome, guitar and gong sounds on "More Than Wanted" are warmly welcome while the bangy-bangy piano on "Keep Your Eyes on the Road" simply grates on my nerves. Songs like "Ballad" and "Bounty" are destined to become fan favorites, as they're both bleedingly emotional and have the sound of a band who is in perfect synergy with each other. K is on the road right now, and while I might not have given this album the highest marks, K's shows have never let me down.
Quick, my cat's purring, grab the microphone! Seriously, I'm continually impressed with Karla Schickele's songwriting and singing abilities, both as an integral piece of Ida, and as the boss here as K. Shickele's lyrics never sound anything less than painfully honest, and never, for once, are they remotely predictable or trite. On this, the second K album, the musical styles vary so greatly that I'm unfortunately having a hard time at certain points being completely won over musically. The broken continuity works amazingly well in the powerful "Crush Mine," as the magical superglue that seems to hold most rock songs together (the drummer) is showing strong desires for an improvisational angle. The country twang of the steel guitar on "I Am Not Willing," and "Everybody Knows Your Name," however, seems almost forced and unnatural. Instrumental diversions like the metronome, guitar and gong sounds on "More Than Wanted" are warmly welcome while the bangy-bangy piano on "Keep Your Eyes on the Road" simply grates on my nerves. Songs like "Ballad" and "Bounty" are destined to become fan favorites, as they're both bleedingly emotional and have the sound of a band who is in perfect synergy with each other. K is on the road right now, and while I might not have given this album the highest marks, K's shows have never let me down.
samples:
The year was 2001. I was in Columbubs, Ohio selling merchandise for a touring band when I only briefly shook hands with a friend of the guitarist, a really charming young gentleman named Brian. The following year, I was completely blown away by the sounds Brian (as Boom Bip) was generating in collaboration with the rap of Dose One in a small concert in Boston. I look back on that one concert night with fond memories as the sound was loud and the feeling was wonderful. Later on that year, he released his album, "Seed to the Sun." After Hollywood caught wind of the phenomenal breakthrough, he was soon composing film scores left and right and nobody ever heard from Brian again. His success was rightfully deserved, however. On the first seconds of that album he wowed the crowd by his sharp sense of musical composition, structure, playing abilities and production smarts, with an electronically-based driving beat layered by live bass guitar playing and thoroughly enjoyable musical progressions. From track to track, the feeling varied (ear-tingling beat-less digital drones of "Pules All Over," a campy drunken trumpet calliope on the brief "Newly Weds," a raspy rap by Buck 65 on "The Unthinkable," and the nasal, beat-poetry prose of Dose One on, "Mannequin Hand Trapdoor I Reminder") but the consistency never faltered. Influenced by hip-hop beats, New Order-esque high-fretboard bass guitar playing, synth pop, sampleadelics and space rock, Boom Bip was indeed a well-rounded child, albeit a bit unfocused at times, yet impressively talented.
If I didn't know both the name of this band and their album title, I honestly would have guessed they recorded this with the full intention of creating a overpoweringly bright image of a glass lense amplifying the sun's light to such an unbearable degree, that everything else in sight becomes a mush of yellowy wash. Hold your hand up to your face but you still can't block the intensity.
The name of this musical act should give you a clue about it. Unfortunately the guitar recordings are the most redeemable part of this album. Guitar is the musical project of somebody who refuses to be known as anything other than Digital Jockey. He (this is just a guess here) has a real mastery of guitar effects and layering which is wonderful to listen to, but has been done for years since that unavoidable reference point, My Bloody Valentine. In addition, he has enlisted vocalist Donna Regina on a couple songs and Ayako Akashiba on a few others. While this album will most certainly go over very well with anybody obsessed with 'Loveless' and/or thick-accented Asian girls singing in Enlish, the lyrics are so irritating some times that I can barely make it through each song. "Honey bee, me and me, see sea, bee and me" over and over and over and over again (with two appearances even) gives me frightening visions of Asian girls with long fingernails, digging deep into my skin to climb up my body and chew my eyeballs out. Admittedly, I was enthusiastic about this album after hearing the rich guitar and simple drum sounds of "House Full of Time" on 'Blue Skied an' Clear,' but sadly, that has become the only song remotely bearable to my ears any more.
While I have been listening to Colin Potter's output (as part of other projects) for years and own a couple Monos releases already, I feel the latest full-length release is clearly a turning point for Darren Tate and Colin Potter as a duo. For years, the two, in various different combinations along with the usual suspects (Andrew Chalk, Jonathan Coleclough, and the circle which extends to Christoph Heemann) have been creating a seeminly endless stream of limited records of lengthy drones: anti-compositional in nature, exploiting sounds for super-extended periods of time. On this, Potter and Tate display a clear evolution in simply 'putting the pieces together,' and for five tracks incorporate the proverbial field recordings and drones with actual compositions, evolving sounds and musical movements gracefully both with and without various pulses keeping strict tempo from introduction through demise. Recorded in 2001, this disc opens with what has almost become a mainstay for these folks: a gradual fade in. The hum on "Intro" doesn't last long, however, as a number of other tones and pulses begin to make themselves heard. Quivering echoes and very, very (almost inaudibly) low undertones mainly propel the spacey "Moon Environment" while tinny pitch-bending, crackling (either leaf-rustling or a fire), and thumping analog synth bass sounds make for a hypnotic aural feast on "Brittle." Unsurprisingly, the purveying visual images I get from this album is a very, very bright night lit by an amazingly large moon. It's the point where night vision takes over and the shadows come alive. The scene could be a forest or a field, relatively close to civilization, but grand enough to seem untouched by modern man. Thankfully nearly all of these pieces end somewhere relatively close to the ten-minute mark, despite the almost unnatural fade of each. There is more, and while I generally dislike fadeouts, I'm somewhat relieved these things don't go on forever. 'Nightfall Sunshine' ends with a marvelous ten-minute piece, "Sunrise," with bird recordings, a subtle synth melody, what sounds like the shivering wiggle of an Arp and the warm drone of an organ. It is the end of the night, the rise to the next day, as animals wake and we, the humans, need to return to reality.
Just when I was about to abandon all hope of possessing a dub record to play while kids in Jar-Jar Binks outfits come knocking on my door this materializes!
All the noises and frequencies on this record have been produced using self-constructed equipment, resulting in a sound not very far away from early analog synthesizer experiments or a tone generators humming. These home made drones are divided into three parts, add up to a total of 46 minutes, and are nicely packed in a miniature album-like gatefold sleeve. Two of the three parts were mixed, edited and mastered with fellow Australian Oren Ambarchi (and Section Two with Scott Horscroft). Without this name dropping, however, I doubt this disc would have been released. There are no warmly welcomed richly layered textures or multi-level sound structures, instead, the result is, on numerous levels minimal (minimal in conception and minimal in effect). The balance between disturbing and hypnotizing sounds is so well-kept that it lacks a certain excitement besides the hidden gimmick—a subliminal overdrive when the speakers start to crackle as the mastering job pushes the CD output level in the red zone of the LED display. Somehow this release leaves me slightly puzzled with an isolated feel. From the start to the end, Walls musically guides us through the middle of nowhere without any clue or destination. I like my music to be a bit more expressive or excessive but for more settled minds this might be a welcome refreshment in noisy drone ambience.
The chimes, clicks, and percussive beats heard on The Mobius Band's 'Three' EP are an old chestnut. We have heard them before. Perhaps not in this setting, not in this wood. But we know them, just as you know the guy who seems to show up at every show you attend. The Mobius Band surround their slyly standard indie rock songs with a swirl of electronics. The tactic is more successful in some songs than others. Most noticeably, the instrumental songs on "Three" have a hard time distinguishing themselves because the synth effects and the beat processors which The Mobius Band use are nothing new, and nothing novel is done with them. The more successful songs, like "Arrow," have at their core simply a strong rock song, regardless of the electronics dancing around them. And that is what the electronics really amount to: sonic flourishes on top of rock songs, dressing on salad. The electronic instrumentation feels superfluous, though in a live setting it admittedly could add color to improvisational parts. On record, it ends up tasting rather like a stale Tortoise song, which is already likely covered with bacterium. When The Mobius Band fire up a long instrumental track, I tend to forget about them. When the Mobius Band sing, I am more apt to listen.
Ms. John Soda, the moniker under which duo Micha Acher and Stephanie Boehm collaborate, will no doubt draw comparisons to both label mates Lali Puna and the other musical project of Acher, The Notwist. Their debut album, however, has a sound which distinguishes itself from both the Notwist and Lali Puna for its energetic pop-sensibilities over the loose jazz and clinical electronics of each, respectively.
Acid Mothers Temple's "Electric Heavyland" is the kind of record that makes me want to adopt all kinds of unnecessary, Lester Bangs-style rock critic hyperbole. I want to compare Kawabata Mokoto to a shaman, summoning up spirits with his giant stone slabs of high magickal noise and grandiose riffs. I want to compare this album to some obscure circa-70's krautrock chestnut. I want to write in ALL CAPS AND END EVERY SENTENCE WITH THREE EXCLAMATION POINTS!!! Although I kind of detest this style of critique, I'm not sure how else to approach this excellent new disc by Acid Mothers Temple and the Melting Paraiso UFO. So, here goes:
I'm willing to accept the fact that I have a favorable bias towards Queens-based rappers and producers, considering I grew up in Rego Park (right across the street from the infamous Lefrak City co-ops) and Forest Hills. However, I doubt that any true hip-hop heads would argue about the quality that has been coming out of this multicultural residential borough since the very beginning of the genre. Who better to represent QB than someone who's been in the game from Day One^?enter Large Professor.
If you don't know why the Cabs became quite so big, then you probably haven't heard "Nag Nag Nag". Mute have another dodgy "Best Of" compilation coming out soon (which I'd heartily recommend to people who don't already own the Cabs' early output) and this single is meant to promote that. In the traditional method of record companies flogging dead horses, Mute have commissioned three or four new mixes of the track to complement the original (which also appears on the CD and first 12"). Firstly, Tiga and Zyntherius have a 'radio version' (on the CD) and 'full version' (on the second 12"). Mute say that Tiga "punks up" the vocals—I say he sounds like Stephen Tin Tin Duffy, and keep waiting for him to launch into the chorus of "Kiss Me". Mute say that this remix "bears all the hall-marks of an intense 'labour of love'"—I say it sounds like a crap cover version. Akufen contributes a far better mix (CD and second 12"). He appears to have had five good ideas for a mix and does about a minute-ish of each, and I'm not going to spoil it for you, but you'll end up grinning from ear to ear after hearing it. Finally Richard H. Kirk himself offers a true 21st century hardcore remix (CD and first 12") which is very much in the spirit of the original but in a thoroughly modern style. (I wanted to start dancing on the bus when listening to it again this morning.) Despite the crap Tiga and Zyntherius remixes, this has been a worthwhile project and I thoroughly recommend this release to anyone who reads The Brain.
Martin Rev's first solo albums from 1980 and 81, as collected on this new CD, document what he was doing at the beginning of his post-Suicide solo career. As usual I have a hard time empathizing with the punk zeitgeist because I was really too young at the time (twelve in 1977) to comprehend the prevailing culture. I must have picked up some of it because occasionally an artifact from the period will unlock waves of fear and abhorrence in me, 
In recent years, some independent HipHop artists such as Antipop Consortium and the Definitive Jux family have managed to stimulate the genre by fusing it with elements of electronica in their backing tracks, making for more cohesive compositions and introducing them to a newer audience. In keeping with that direction, the ideal collaboration between rappers Mos Def and the windy city's Diverse with Prefuse 73 only certifies that development on "Wylin' Out." This EP is comprised of its title track in full form as well as an instrumental version, along with two separate remixes from K-Kruz and RJD2. Prefuse 73's electro-souled, signature syncopated instrumental makes for the perfect backdrop for the MCs to trade their quick, sharp and insightful rhymes with masterful precision. The K-Kruz remix eschews the existing backing track in favor of sampled Fender Rhodes, scratches and more broken up beats. While musically not as heavy as the original track, the vocals becoming more intelligible in the mix adds a new weight to it. RJD2's bouncy remix provides a repeated motif built from gritty big band-esque shots and subtle scratches driven by sampled drumkit and percussion, giving it a real 60s soundtrack groove. Rounding out the EP is the original instrumental version which showcases Prefuse 73's HipHop sensibility and knack for arranging as we've come to know and love. "Wylin' Out" has got my vote for the coolest collaboration of the year. 
Following closely on Matador's 2001 twentieth anniversary edition of 1971's classic 'Underwater Moonlight,' 'Nextdoorland' is the first Soft Boys studio album in over 20 years. The whole 1980 lineup is here, and 'Nextdoorland' is peppered with the same giddy bouncing rhythms and insinuating Eastern scales that propelled the Boys' early collaborations. (Mastermind Robyn Hitchcock, of course, launched his strong solo career after the first life of the Soft Boys, whereas guitarist Kimberley Rew made a mark with the 80s hit "Walking on Sunshine" with Katrina and the Waves.) Even the cover image—of two candlelit mannequins with bleached mammalian skulls, propped up in bed—recalls the slightly misshapen, seaside dummies sported on 'Underwater Moonlight' (figures all constructed by Hitchcock's wife Lal). Like the latter day cover art, the contemporary Soft Boys shape their new sound with, essentially, the same materials, but there is certainly a shift in terrain. 'Nextdoorland' has less of the early Soft Boys' vitriol. It's definitely them, but more subdued, most notably missing the confusion, spit, and bile that lent their earlier lyrics the guitar lines' razor edge. Overall then, this pulsating album is similarly surrealistic (and on occasion incomprehensible) when it comes to the lyrics, but both lyrically and musically without as much substance as one would like. A few listeners might prefer the lighter touch?the parts are all distinct and crisp, the guitars absolutely sparkle, and the melodies here soar more often than they pitch back and forth. But, who woulda thunk, it's just not the same. Standout tracks here are "I Love Lucy," "Unprotected Love," and "Strings." ("My Mind is Connected?" edges on David Byrne of the 'David Byrne' period, and "Mr. Kennedy" and "Japanese Captain" are a little fogey for me.) Lasting lyrical impressions include: "Give me unprotected love / Like a baby in a football / Like a fish inside a glove" (sketchy!) and "Evil is the new enemy / Evil is the new bad [?] Take your partner by the middle / Like a burger in a griddle." 
Tim Hecker's second outing on the Substractif sublabel of Alien8 with a 25-minute EP of DSP and plunderphonics based on none other than my favourite rockers, Van Halen. Fennesz's treatments of The Beach Boys and the Stones are one thing, but putting the opening riff from "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love" (from which the EP's title is taken) through the lo-fi digital mangler, as Hecker does on "Introducing Carl Cocks", is a more unlikely idea. With Eddie's classic and beautiful riff teased slowly into a perfect granular blur, it's an outstanding track, though what it has to do with techno-lord Carl Cox is anyone's idea. The remainder of the tracks' samples are split between musical sources and bitter interviews, on-stage raps, and radio coverage of the band's disputes, with comprehensible titles such as "Sammy Loves Eddie Hates David" but the baffling "The Return Of Sam Snead", whose only connection with VH I know of is that he's in a load of Dead Pools with poor old Eddie.
Jonathan Coleclough has released several stunning albums of extended drones derived from acoustic sources, and 'Low Ground' is no exception. The sounds on this recording are surprisingly electronic; they're more digitally-veiled and alien than on Coleclough's other records. With five tracks, three of them collaborative and two solo, there's quite a bit of textural variety on this CD.
