Sub Pop
Would somebody please give Mudhoney their due? Otherwise, they're going to eventually make that quintessential rock record that has the potential to destroy us all. It's rare that a band can continue to flourish and put great material to tape, not change the basic formula, and make a decade-plus career of it, and Mudhoney has done just that. There have been casualties, of course. After their last LP, 'Tomorrow Hit Today,' they were dropped from Reprise, without ever securing a hit album. Shortly thereafter, founding member Matt Lukin announced his displeasure for touring, and left the band. The hiatus that followed found the other members pursuing interesting side jobs, with Mark Arm even writing reviews for the now defunct Wall of Sound website. Now, the wait is over, as Mudhoney return to Sub Pop for their sixth LP. Thank goodness not much has changed in the process. The album's opener, "Baby Can You Dig the Light," is over eight minutes of noisy noodling goodness, and a sign that: 1) Mudhoney is back; 2) You can expect more of the same; 3) Their sense of humor is intact as always. Elsewhere, the arrangements are as blistering and loud as always. Mudhoney's influence on the grunge sound has always been clear, only now they seem to have so much more fun with it. Both "The Straight Life," with its laments on how a girl has been changed by the world around her, and "Where the Flavor Is" with, pardon me, its tongue-in-cheek lyrics, are straightforward rockers in the classic sense. The horns on several tracks are a fantastic choice on this record, making the atmosphere more loose and fun. Another accomplished work from one of Seattle's finest, if you're into that sort of thing.
Would somebody please give Mudhoney their due? Otherwise, they're going to eventually make that quintessential rock record that has the potential to destroy us all. It's rare that a band can continue to flourish and put great material to tape, not change the basic formula, and make a decade-plus career of it, and Mudhoney has done just that. There have been casualties, of course. After their last LP, 'Tomorrow Hit Today,' they were dropped from Reprise, without ever securing a hit album. Shortly thereafter, founding member Matt Lukin announced his displeasure for touring, and left the band. The hiatus that followed found the other members pursuing interesting side jobs, with Mark Arm even writing reviews for the now defunct Wall of Sound website. Now, the wait is over, as Mudhoney return to Sub Pop for their sixth LP. Thank goodness not much has changed in the process. The album's opener, "Baby Can You Dig the Light," is over eight minutes of noisy noodling goodness, and a sign that: 1) Mudhoney is back; 2) You can expect more of the same; 3) Their sense of humor is intact as always. Elsewhere, the arrangements are as blistering and loud as always. Mudhoney's influence on the grunge sound has always been clear, only now they seem to have so much more fun with it. Both "The Straight Life," with its laments on how a girl has been changed by the world around her, and "Where the Flavor Is" with, pardon me, its tongue-in-cheek lyrics, are straightforward rockers in the classic sense. The horns on several tracks are a fantastic choice on this record, making the atmosphere more loose and fun. Another accomplished work from one of Seattle's finest, if you're into that sort of thing.
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I can remember the day that 'Polydistortion' was released, and it seemed like a whole new bridge between experimental electronic, post-rock, dance music and indie rock was built, as well as a foundation for a wave of Icelandic electronic music to flourish. I wouldn't have to bring up the group's breakthrough debut if I didn't feel it necessary to assure any reader that this was, at one point, a truly incredible collective. At the time, Gus Gus consisted of nine people: three singers, four musicians and two responsible for visuals. The music varied from pumping dance beats to slower-paced tunes, percussion-free ballads and shining instrumental tracks, all with a subtle twist of dementia to keep the sound from ever being mundane or tired. Their songs equally utilized everything in their ability, without over-saturating the mix. In the five years since, the group has gone through lineup changes, record label changes, and is now primarily a dance band. While the band's lyrics were never something to write home about, in the past they were at least somewhat off-center and interesting to listen to. On 'Attention,' the lyrics are both painful and repeated unnecessarily. Their new female singer lacks a true identity which separates her from a generic singer in a gay discoteque. On certain songs like "David," the music is so forceful, it almost doesn't matter but on songs like the opener "Unnecessary," it's bordering on unbearable. There are some highlights, however, like the guest vocal track from former singer Daniel Ágúst on the Gareth Jones-prodced "Desire," and the slower-paced hopping beats of "Attention" would make it a perfect jam were it not for the vocals. After the first few tracks, the rest of this disc tapers off into even more generic territory and while I can't say it's not pleasant, it's simply not the Gus Gus most people fell in love with.
I really can't say enough good things about Fischerspooner's superlative first album. Depending on which of the eight thousand re-releases you've gotten, the album is either called 'Fischerspooner' or '#1' or possibly 'Best Album Ever.' Whatever it's called, it is definitely ear candy—a great mix of druggy technopop, crystal-clear sonics, and dramatic adrenaline rushes of cheap, sleazy production effects. However, I'm not really sure what to say about their newest release: a "DVD single" of their standout track "Emerge". Fischerspooner is first and foremost a performance art piece, and the album was only a soundtrack to the performance. Their show is a spectacular visual assault and violent enforcement of the primacy of aesthetics. Which is why I was very excited about the prospect of a DVD release; perhaps it would contain bits of their stage performance along with a stunningly remixed Dolby 5.1 surround version of their song? No such luck. In fact, all this DVD contains is a rather useless three-minute interview piece with Warren Fischer and Casey Spooner. The interview reveals nothing at all, as the two just sort of mug for the camera and seem pretty reticent to talk about their creation. The interview is interspersed with enticing clips of their filmed performance, but no shot is held longer than two seconds. It's extremely frustrating, as they could easily have included a number from the show, and it would have been infinitetly more entertaining than the MTV-style cut-ups found here. The other two features of the disc are so useless they don't even bear mention, but I'll mention them anyway. A "video" for "Emerge" is actually just a series of stills of the performance. Each still is held on the screen for too long. Totally unremarkable. The other non-feature is the new song "Megacolon," which is a really clever Human League-style song about flatulence and diarrhea. Great song, but why am I listening to this on a DVD? There are no visuals to go along with this new track. What's the point? This pointless artifact has nothing to justify any retail price over 18 cents. Beware.
The first full-length (non CD-R) CD by Mirror is already in danger of becoming another rarity (like their previous limited vinyl releases) just 4 weeks after its release. [The disc is already sold out from Idea and is in stock at only a few online stores at the time of the publishing of this article.] Christoph Heemann (of H.N.A.S., C93, Mimir, and Nurse with Wound fame) and Andrew Chalk (New Blockaders, Organum, ORA) certainly know how to attract a loyal following. Recorded back in August of 2001, this 41-minute track is a deep space journey without the sci-fi gloss of Star Wars et al. Their drone journeys are more like travelling in some old and lost (maybe Russian) space ship that's unable to change its direction while the life supporting system is running low of energy. The aim of the mission may be forgotten but undefined waves of sound shake through the last remaining passengers. Shades of memories are evoked: isolation, apathy and hopelessness dictates the mood. Any conventional form of communication broke down long ago. 'Solaris' can either be a soundtrack for a late-night listening, an out of mind experience, or a calming, reassuring, post-traumatic remedy (like after your lover left you in anger). As David Sylvian has put it two decades ago, "the doubt inside my mind comes and goes but leads to nowhere". 
While many underground hip hop heads find themselves content with backpacks stuffed with demos of verbose MCs over abstract beats and the latest Def Jux and Rawkus releases, some of the best underground rappers are overlooked for taking their cues from the grimy tales of street hustling and the kings of contemporary radio. Cormega probably couldn't care less what some white kid in an El-P visor thinks of him, because he's been through more bullshit that any of those backpackers can imagine.
Ms John Soda is the duo of Stefanie Böhm (Couch) and Micha Acher (The Notwist, Tied + Tickled Trio) in a most agreeable and expansive pop environment. The diversity of the four songs on this EP (featuring Böhm's vocals on three of them) makes for an interesting yet all too brief listen, especially when there's a full length release just around the corner.
This debut full-length from Rob Tubb, who must surely be Chichester's premier retro-electro crooner, follows his recent "Remote Control" single, also on Lo Recordings. While the electroclash cultural blip has made me wary of contemporary musicians who pay overt homage to the 1980s, I've plenty of time for those working in a more underground, principled, fashion (for example Gerhard Potuznik). Cursor Miner is definitely to be counted amongst the most interesting of such musicians, fabricating something original and fun from the lighter side of 1980s English synth-pop and the geeky, meticulous side of modern electronica.
Yes, Virginia, there is a place for pedestrian electronica, but no one likes to listen to that much. Repetitive beats, the same thumping bass, the cheesiest of house girl singers - the time for the unoriginal concepts of third generation beat stylers isn't gone, it just never was. The best electronic music mixes recorded instruments in, improving on the concepts and hopes of both genres. Originality is improved, the sound is fuller and more genuine, and you can still dance to it. Plusses abound. "Melody For Sleep" is the first full-length Phobos 3 recording, a group that was created out of the consequences of theft. Steve Jones and Richard Pushong had all of their equipment stolen, but still had a strong desire to make new music, so they went back to basics on bass and guitar. Then they brought in beatman Martin Stovey to add some hip hop magic. The results are part My Bloody Valentine, part dance party. Everything takes on an ominous tone due to the low bass and squelched guitar, and there are creepy manipulated vocal tracks present in areas to raise the fear factor. Strangely, though, there's also a great deal of hope present, even in the ramblings of 'Crazy Reenie'. Phobos 3 aren't trying to change the face of music or anything. They just want to make music that leaves a good taste in your mouth after you've brushed your teeth, and that isn't too hard to swallow. They accomplish this for the most part, even though some of the basslines sound reminiscent of Fun Loving Criminals or Talking Heads, and the beats sometimes sound like Happy Mondays. But the instrumentation and arrangements aren't too heady, and the melodies are actually quite lovely in places. Worth sampling, for sure.
The poppy first single from this album "Know My Name" (reviewed in 
Noisy, loud, and sprawling guitar rock is really reaching its apex these days with some accomplished bands putting out fantastic records. Add another possibility to the pile, but closer to the top, please. Stella Luna's first release, "Stargazer" is a four song EP meant as a teaser for their full-length due later this year. Their sound is primarily space rock, with breathy male and female vocals teasing each other over the distortion-drenched guitars, meaty bass, extraterrestrial synths and echoed eerie drumming. This music is horribly affecting, stirring, and compelling. I once read an article that postulated on the idea that the goal of movie trailers was actually to make you not want to see the film in question. Therefore, if a trailer succeeds, you should want to stay away at all costs. If that's the goal of an EP like this one - to make me want to avoid the full-length - it fails miserably. If you resist, Stella Luna attacks you at your brain stem, attaching and living there for a time until you relent. 'Change' opens the EP quietly, building noise until the wall of sound floods the speakers, then haunts with the repeating chorus ("Funny how some things never change/chaaaange/chaaaange"). The melody then feeds right into the EP's title track, featuring swirls and wooshes of sound with Susan Hanson's faded vocals. On 'Antares', the synths are more prevalent, at least until the chorus, with a chiming guitar line that just kills. 'A Bridge to Nowhere', the EP's closer, is not as strong a song, as it strikes with its pure noise, but it adds some diversity to the overall composition. A fine debut from a promising band to expect greater things from.
Oren Ambarchi is one of the busiest new composers around. Sadly, his work on this 7" does not stand up to his reputation. Compared to a number of his more theoretical releases, the songs here sound somewhat shallow and unimpressive. Produced with analog equipment (or trying to mimic such gear) "Der kleine König" consists mainly of a slightly distorted naive melody line. On "Links!," he pushes the frequency range into more uncomfortable regions at first, but lets it fade away in a repetitious wave which ends abruptly in some pitch bending. Both of these tracks could easily be excerpts of a recording session from years ago that just marginally escaped the eraser button. Experimental electronic recordings like this are both average and overdone these days.
The simultaneously-released Keith Fullerton Whitman 7" features two edited parts of a concert from March, 2001. "Part One" sounds surprisingly reminiscent of a soundtrack (like the Sonic Youth score to 'Made In USA'). Guitar and loads of processing provide a moody setting which, to me, could go on much longer without ever getting boring. "Part Two" takes off with electronically-altered layers of sound until the guitar resurfaces in the middle part, only to be buried again in an effects-assault conclusion. This one's indeed a pleasure to listen to. Whitman shows a clear concept in composition which puts this release up with the best that 2002 has had to offer yet. Get it while you can.
Drekka has been releasing music since 1995, though not in the traditional fashion, it seems. Songs were released on cassettes, CD-Rs, or the odd 7", and in such limited numbers of copies that it must have been nearly impossible to hear any of them. So now BlueSanct releases Drekka's debut full-length, which contains some new tracks as well as some previously released in limited engagements. Michael Anderson, for all intents and purposes, is Drekka, with occasional guests. Anderson creates "home-fi" music: atmospheric music on four-track recorder with very little substance and yet a lot of weight. Songs are very minimalist, with just a simple guitar or vocal. Sometimes there are no instruments at all, just low voices or clicks. Anderson seems to be possessed by the demons of low quality production for a reason, though: these songs are much more successful because of the limitations of the recording. Every song has its own precious idiosyncrasies, from the movie playing the background of 'An End of Silence (Night Dancing)' to the misplayed guitar part on 'Untitled Filmshoot'. Fourteen tracks in forty-seven minutes makes it a quick listen to, with real disparity in the track lengths (a four second thirteenth track leads into the eight-and-a-half minute album closer). Spooky music to be sure, with strange sounds to raise the hairs on your neck. Will it stand the test of time, though?
And the winner of the Worst Warp Album Ever prize? Why Vincent Gallo's 'Recordings of Music for Film' of course! Beating out the former champion (Gallo's previous Warp release 'When'), this entirely unnecessary release compiles material that recorded since the late 1970s all the way through the late 1990s for various film projects, including his classic film Buffalo '66. Please don't misunderstand me. I enjoy Vincent Gallo somwhat as an actor, and his role in the sex meets cannibalism indie "Trouble Every Day" will probably stand out in my mind as his finest hour, but musically he's the pits. It troubles me that a label with such a strong history as Warp would even bother to put this album out on the market, as it is comprised of 29 tracks of pointless atmospheric noodling and forgettable vocal takes. "Lonely Boy" is a great example of this, with tonedeaf singing over minimal instrumentation. Nothing stands out here. Nothing moves me. Is this supposed to be artistic? Am I missing something? It can't just be me. Some people may think that I've just been hard on Warp lately, but that's because I know they can do better than this garbage (as their recent singles from Sote and S omething J/DJ Maximus have proven). They cannot rely on the famous names in their roster like Aphex Twin and Squarepusher to redeem them forever. It's time to break ground again, and Vincent Gallo is not going to be that innovator—not by a longshot.
It's only natural that a gallery filled with the visual art of David Tibet and Steven Stapleton be filled with their audio art as well. This limited edition (1000) set served as the soundtrack for their April 8 - May 4, 2002 exhibition at London's Horse Hospital gallery. Initially it was only available there and through Durtro's online store but it has since filtered down to the usual outlets (though the price point of roughly $45 will undoubtedly dissuade casual fans).
Thule Musik has been responsible for the fledgling releases of some of the rising stars of the Icelandic music scene. Múm's popularity has exploded over the past year and Trabant was recently profiled in the New York Times. Both these bands are represented on this double CD compilation (each with their remix of another artist's track, plus an original track remixed by someone else), but '42 More Things to do in Zero Gravity' attempts to showcase a wide variety of electronic artists. Some names might ring a bell to those who follow the musical goings-on of Reykjavik and beyond, and others seem to be surfacing for the first time.
Here are past and present Crouton recordings centered around prolific, poly-pseudonymic, multi-faceted artists Chris Rosenau and Jon Mueller. Piano Bread is a (still available) numbered and cardboard boxed edition of 500 from 1999. It comes with a book with a surreal tale by drummer Mueller that seems to portray an individual's lustful, "piano bread"-addled search for self. Equally mystifying is the disc's 15 untitled tracks which may or may not correspond in some way to the book's 12 chapters. Ranging from one to nearly nine minutes, the pieces are performed by soloists, duets, trios or quartets that include four other players from the Milwaukee area. Musically it's very varied, running the gamut from a lone feminine voice, woodwind or treated harmonica to drums/samples/turntables/double bass band freakouts. To take the easy way out would be to describe much of what's going on here with words such as "avant", "improv" and "freeform" paired with another word that rhymes with "spazz". It's not really my cup of tea, but it would leave out the many other moments of greater interest to me, such as tracks five and 12. Here, Rosenau performs a magic trick with erratic acoustic guitar and banjo plucks and scrapes, sparse keyboard and bass notes, and clarinet chirps, wheezes and drones. On track six, John McCoy's "advanced sound manipulations" make for a murky melting pot of environments and atmospheres while on track seven, Jason Wietlispach drowns Rebecca Gray's ghostly wailing in heavily effected guitar swells. 'Piano Bread' is a bewildering 48 page and 68 minute journey with some intriguing sight seeing along the way.
Fast forward to 2002. Collections of Colonies of Bees is mostly the duo's doing and 'fa.ce (a' is their third album since '99. It is a continuous suite of eight (all but the last untitled) tracks that glide through played, processed and played to be processed sounds - often with elements from each track carrying over into the next.
This already mightily praised release by Tex La Homa finally reaches these shores through the Superglider label. Tex La Homa is Matt Shaw with with help on a few tracks by Dave Purse, and the music is guitar driven with electronic and breakbeat flourishes.
G.M. Wallis is the main force behind the legendary Konstruktivists, a nearly forgotten and often overseen band of the diverse early 80's UK experimental scene. He released several sought-after LPs starting off in 1982, has been a part time member of Whitehouse (around the 'Great White Death' era), collaborated with CTI for the 'Hammer House' EP in 1984 (reissued on 'Collectiv One') and the 1985 album 'Glennascaul' was even produced by Chris Carter.
With the recent and often tongue-in-cheek assimilation of hip hop into the word of laptop electonica, it's about time someone with a Powerbook actually stepped up and rocked it. The trick with Dälek is that it's not the Powerbook that's on display, and Dälek isn't coming to hip-hop by way of smash-ups and mallrat b-boyism. Hip hop began as a uniquely urban expression, and as its reach has expanded into suburban territory in many ways, it has lost its connection to the grit, bustle, and sheer commotion of the city. 'From Filthy Tongue of Gods and Griots' brings the sound of the city back, and pays homage to hip hop's heritage by being embarrasingly honest. If DMX is is from the streets, then Dälek is unashamedly from the gutters. Beats and atmospheres sound dredged in dirt, and Dälek's straightforward delivery of lyrics about broken glass and third rails evokes startlingly real images of urban decay. Dälek fuses equal parts Public Enemy, My Bloody Valentine, and godspeed you black emperor! into a chaotic stew of squalor, anger, and sometimes hope that brings back the urgency of rap's early days. At the center of the album is a 12 minute epic of drones, feedback and noise that could be the end of a Mogwai meets Godflesh guitar noise session, but stays rooted to hip hop as Dälek flows over empty space to the rhythms ingrained in his head. Where The Veldt were shoegazers adding hip hop as an element to set them apart from their associates in the Cocteaus and the Jesus and Mary Chains of the world, Dälek are a hip hop trio who appropriate the expressive power of guitars, found sounds, and sheer noise to paint their urban murals. Make no mistake, this is not an IDM release, or an experimental noise album using hip hop flavor as a thematic mode—this is a hip hop record, and the one we've all been waiting for.
Forced to change their name from Atomsmasher, the vibrant trio of JamesPlotkin, Speedranch and David White barrel through nine multi-dementialsongs on their second full-length album together like a super-chargedlightning-intense hail storm, ready and willing to make dentseverywhere in its path. Fiesty and fiery, with guitars surprisinglybare of effects, the glitch-thrash sound is still considerably loud andabrasive as on the debut. This time around, however, there are a numberof more conjunct ideas and compositional themes. Plotkin's guitarmelodies, for example, carry through numerous sullen moments hammockedbetween inhuman sonic assaults. The electronically sliced-and-diceddrum solos and squelched vocals once again are never dull andpredictable nor artfully heady. Unfortunately, rock purists willundoubtedly find their sound too digital while laptop lovers will findit too rock, but if you can step away from the process and listen tothe product for a moment, it's damned enjoyable.
