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The debut release from Monika Khot (also a member of Zen Mother) as Nordra is one of those sort of records that just gleefully trounces unnecessarily invented borders between genres without a single care or consideration for what an album should sound like. Khot rarely settles into a single style or even structure for these four songs, but there is method to the madness. A full gamut of alternative pop, techno, and drone metal show up, sometimes within the span of a single song.
The opening moments of "Apologize to Me, Humanity" are at first a bit confounding:a big synthetic 4/4 kick drum beat and rhythmic synth blips are not just conventional, but also something I would have never expected coming from Aaron Turner’s SIGE label.Things soon started making more sense, as the aforementioned elements were mangled and processed into some perversion of conventional electronic music, rife of change and variation that is usually unheard of.At about the halfway point, the song shifts into full on drone metal territory, and by the end even a bit of pleasant singer-songwriter vocals and guitar.Besides the darkness, the sheer sense of experimentation makes sense for the label.
The sound (and intentionally erratic song construction) continues into "Regret 1," where Khot keeps the big beats, but opts for more sweeping, nearly symphonic electronics and synthesizers.Less aggressive and more moody, she creates an excellent dramatic feel via the complex layers of instrumentation.Eventually this gives way to a jerky transition between the synth and beat heavy passages with some more harsh-tinged noisier bits, resulting in a sound that is mesmerizing and never at all predictable.
"New Cycles," on the other hand, comes across more as a deconstruction of industrial rock to its barest essentials.Sputtering noises compliment a stiff sounding drum machine that casts out some rudimentary rock rhythms.Eventually the beat is reduced to just cymbals before guitar and more electronics come in with an oppressive, doom-laden sensibility to them. By the end, Khot leaves behind some of the most pleasant, light guitar moments on the entire record.With shifting, dynamic distortion added to the beats and dark, electronic spaces, it is reminiscent of those early radical dub reworks Godflesh would do but taken to even further, more experimental lengths.
For the concluding "This is Dissent," she keeps the piece in more overtly electronic realms.At first a depressive mass of electronic clicks and beats, the mood is bleak, but there is a lighter melodic undercurrent that is undeniable.Eventually the piece transitions to a more upbeat, less bleak sound, but still idiosyncratic and bizarre, before coming to an abrupt end via cheap beats and varying tempos.While there may not be any jarring shifts in instrumentation, that transition from dour to uptempo keeps it fresh throughout.
Nordra's debut is extremely bizarre and unpredictable in its sound, but never does it come across as sloppy or uneven.Juxtaposing dance music, doom metal, and noise (among a multitude of other styles) could easily end up a messy, unabashed attempt at sounding weird or strange, but the cohesion here is undeniable.For all its oddness, this record just works, sounding like nothing else and not at all attempting to.After writing about (and listening to) unconventional music for so long, I sometimes worry that I have heard it all, so I am always happy to hear something like this that defies any and all expectations I may have had before even giving it a listen.It may be confounding at times, but it is an unquestionably brilliant record through and through.
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The latest release from Stephen Petrus's long running dark electronic/death industrial project may not deviate far out of the comfort zone of its discography, but that is really a moot point. Instead, it works as the culmination of styles he has dabbled in, but with the self-assured sheen of an experienced artist. I will admit it personally hits some specific nostalgia buttons for me as well, but even objectively it is an excellent piece of malicious, sinister electronics.
As the Murderous Vision project enters its 20th year, I could not help but be reminded of the scene from which it came, which was a recurring theme throughout much of My Necropolis.The late 1990s were a fertile period for the harsh electronic scene in the US, when many artists such as Petrus began to expand upon the death industrial aesthetic associated with the Cold Meat Industries label and the harsher power electronics of the Tesco crew.It was a time in which these artists were not imitating those who had came before, but truly creating something simultaneous inspired and original.I remember many a late night (on dial-up internet) cruising through various message boards, mp3.com, LiveJournal, and the old alt.noise Usenet group when artists such as Murderous Vision, Death Squad, XTerminal, and Quell were establishing themselves and their art before social media existed as we know it today.
Opener "The Wilted" drives this home:a pastiche of subterranean synth rumble and hints of neoclassical flourish creep along, minimal yet menacing in its sound.The lengthy follow-up "A Leg Broken at the Edge of the Sea" in turn shows the development and evolution of Petrus's approach through the years.It may begin from a similar foundation of pulsating dungeon synth, but it soon becomes much more complex and rich.The use of open spaces, subtle creakiness, and far off hints of rhythm expand upon the originally primitive foundation, giving much more depth than the basic synth patches and cheap digital effects that the genre was built on back in the day.
"Without Presence" (featuring Matthew Hunzeker and Steve Lull) is a thick and heavy mix, but not overly hostile or noisy.The addition of processed spoken word vocals and live drumming (or at least a very realistic approximation thereof) channel some of the earliest industrial vibes, without at all sounding dated or like a simple imitation.Ritualistic percussion also abounds on "Immolation/Separation", within a framework of simmering power electronics noise and complex, dissonant passages.The inclusion of both sweeping synth strings and harsher vocals on the latter half also keep it engaging.
For a style not usually known for conventionality, both "Fire Rabbit" (with Amanda Howland on vocals and additional electronics from Wyatt Howland) and "My Necropolis" have an almost song-like structure to them as far as development is concerned.The former has a funereal, tone-heavy sound to it, propelled by far off militaristic drumming and Howland’s spoken narrative.On the other hand, "My Necropolis" is a mass of pummeling, aggressive drums, chanted voices and murky electronics, coming together in a grandiose, yet uncomfortable bit of sinister music that oozes with malevolent ambience.
Having been familiar with Stephen Petrus's work since nearly the project's inception, Murderous Vision has come a long way with My Necropolis.Excellent production and attention to sonic detail are unquestionable, but also the self-assuredness that comes from being active for so long shines through on this album.There is mostly just doom and gloom throughout this record (I would expect nothing less based upon the title), but that is exactly the intent, and it is done so exceptionally well, and with enough understated diversity, that I was engaged beginning to end.
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This long-awaited deluxe special edition, originally recorded and released on cassette in 1982, sees a timely release after the success of Cosey’s recent autobiography Art Sex Music (pub. by Faber & Faber).
Available now for the first time on vinyl, this deluxe special edition has been remastered and edited from the original audio tapes for this exclusive vinyl release.
It is presented on super clear vinyl, in a gatefold sleeve incorporating a foil block title and is accompanied by a 16 page full colour 12” booklet containing the original cassette transcripts and photos plus many new and updated statements and colour photos.
More information can be found here.
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Tokyo Flashback is one of the most iconic compilations in the history of underground music. Originally released in 1991 by Japan’s P.S.F. Records, Tokyo Flashback defined the breathtakingly unique and previously obscured musical movement that had been developing in Japan since the late 1970’s. The compilation features some of the earliest released recordings by Keiji Haino, High Rise, Masaki Batoh’s Ghost, White Heaven, Fushitsusha, Kousokuya and Marble Sheep. It captures the excitement and energy of a Tokyo awash in Technicolor and deep blacks; the music echoing Kraut Rock, Psychedelic freak-outs, Garage and No Wave. At the same time it reveals astonishing, totally idiosyncratic expansions of rock music. In time, Tokyo Flashback expanded to a synonymous nine volume series that over the next two decades unveiled Japan’s ever evolving soundscapes to the rest of the world.
Tokyo Flashback is a defining statement of late 20th Century Japanese psychedelic music and an essential primer to the world of P.S.F. All tracks are exclusive, this edition features the first time translation of the original liner notes. Black Editions’ deluxe edition is entirely re-mastered and marks the first release of Tokyo Flashback outside of Japan and its first ever vinyl issue.
More information can be found here.
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Natalie Chami is best known for being one-third of Chicago's Good Willsmith, but she has also been a prolific solo artist, releasing a slew of cassettes on labels like Hausu Mountain since 2011.  Love Sick is Chami's debut full-length and it is quite a stunner: based on Chami's past, I was merely expecting a suite of atypically skillful analog synth sketches and experiments.  Instead, Love Sick is a gorgeously sultry and blearily hypnagogic feast of visionary outsider soul.  Happily, most of Chami's experimental and improvisatory impulses survived that transformation intact, which is what makes this such a unique album: Chami does not downplay her more lysergic and unpredictable edges so much as find a way to shape them into languorously seductive hooks.  When that happens, some great songs result, yet the more impressive achievement is how Love Sick coheres into such an intermittently dark and absorbing whole, like an erotic dream that subtly morphs into a nightmare.
Chami has quite an unusual background for someone making a sexy bedroom soul album, as she is both a member of an established improv/experimental music ensemble and a classically trained vocalist.  The latter seems to only manifest itself in Chami's cool assurance as a vocalist, but her experience as an improviser/analog synth artist clearly had a lot of influence over how Love Sick was performed and recorded.  Aesthetically, however, Chami seems to be far more of a kindred spirit to her stated influences Aaliyah and Sade than, say, Alessandro Cortini.  Love Sick's simple template is established quite quickly and effectively with the opening "I Saw The Way": a lovely, slow-moving chord progression; some understated synth hooks; some hallucinatory textures fluttering around the periphery; and a whole lot of cooing, breathy vocals.  One significant item that is missing from that list is any kind of beat or propulsive bass line, which seems like a very deliberate decision for a couple of reasons.  For one, Chami took a very pure, organic, and spontaneous approach to crafting these pieces, performing everything live and improvising her loop-heavy vocals with no overdubbing.  More significantly, her entire aesthetic is a deeply understated and blissed out one.  Love Sick certainly has a lot in common with pop music, but it does not sound so much like sexy R&B as it does like sexy R&B that has been dissolved into an undulating haze.  Chami's aesthetic is essentially a bittersweet dreamscape of simmering passions, yearning, and languorous eroticism.
Occasionally, however, Chami will throw in a sampled beat, as she does on the stumbling and stutteringly gorgeous would-be single "Disgrace."  If the vocals were removed, it would basically just be a killer patch of densely throbbing bloops and chirps over a lurching, broken-sounding beat that would be a highlight on any contemporary analog synth album.  In Chami's hands, however, it becomes a rapturous bit of hallucinatory pop heaven filled with lush harmonies and oddly halting and precarious-sounding vocal phrasings.  As much as I enjoy Chami’s endless supply of cool synth motifs and her talent for crafting appealing hooks, it is probably the almost uncomfortable intimacy of her vocals that elevates Love Sick into such a compelling album.  At her best, Chami is not a synth wizard dabbling in soul/R&B pastiche–she is a bedroom pop Brian Wilson trying to distill a swirl of ineffable emotions into elegantly woozy, blurred, and breathy dreampop (and she just happens to wield a synth quite skillfully too).
Chami is not entirely pop-minded though, so Love Sick is also peppered with some more atmospheric pieces and an occasional bit of indulgent spacey weirdness, such as the lysergic and proggy "You’re Trying To Drive."  I tend to like the "pop" songs the best though, as there are already plenty of artists making fine dreamy ambient or retro-futurist analog synth vamps, but no one but Chami (and perhaps prime LA Vampires) can turn out a soulful and sensuous slow-motion jam quite like "My Side My Sign."  That said, some Love Sick's more abstract pieces are uniquely strange, particularly the closing "Stories," which is a surreal miasma of hallucinatory textures, blurting synth swells, tumbling melodies, and pure heartache.  In fact, it is a perfectly devastating way to end the album, as it feels like all of the album's gorgeous soft-focus pop structures are ultimately pulled apart and obliterated by a final black hole of regret that ends with the line "I don’t want to tell the story anymore cuz you’re gone."  On paper, that might sound like melodrama, but it is not.  Instead, it feels like a final curdled note on an album that seems to try valiantly to condense all the pleasure and pain of a shared life into one short album.
To my ears, Love Sick does not have any real flaws or weak songs, but it can certainly be a challenging and unnervingly intimate listen at times and most of the usual caveats regarding improvised music apply.  That said, Chami often does a remarkable job of deftly sidestepping the limitations of live analog synthesizer performance, masking the unavoidably repetitive structure with well-placed hooks, actual choruses, and hallucinatory gnarled intrusions of mangled notes.  Also, while I certainly prefer the more structured and melodic pieces, Love Sick's more amorphous and atmospheric pieces make the album a far more mysterious and deep affair than it would have been if Chami had simply written a full album of slow jams.  Of course, the hookier pieces are the immediately gratifying ones, so it took me a while to appreciate the rest, but it was worth the time (it is dangerously easy to initially dismiss the album as a handful of great songs padded by moody filler).  Love Sick is a slow-burner, as it has sneakily become one of my left-field favorite albums of the year, hitting a perfect balance between experimentation, craftsmanship, unfiltered emotion, and smoldering intensity.  I am tempted to glibly describe Love Sick as the greatest analog synth break-up album of all-time, but that would be a disservice (even if it is probably true): Chami certainly uses heartache and longing as a starting point, but beautifully transcends expectations to weave a truly immersive and complex fever dream where eroticism and pain swirl deliriously together.
 
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I embarrassingly came very close to sleeping on this brilliantly unhinged and raucous album, as most critically acclaimed rock music these days tends to underwhelm me.  Omaha's Nance is an entirely different story though, as Negative Boogie does a damn fine job recapturing the hostility and recklessness that made bands like Suicide and The Cramps so much cooler than everyone else.  Of course, Negative Boogie does not sound at all like either of those bands, but Nance's incandescent intensity and viscerally slashing guitars have a way of making even a Merle Haggard cover sound feral and frightening.
In general, there are few things that scream "this is not for me" quite like a white guy playing the blues in 2017, yet the opening "More Than Enough (Reprise)" is exactly that and it instantly hooked me.  Of course, "the blues" channeled through David Nance is quite a unique beast, as this particular example opens with a molten eruption of jarring guitar squall.  A standard-issue blues shuffle eventually crawls out from under that gnarled chaos, but it feels wonderfully sick and wrong in Nance's hands, as he seethes with desperation and constantly subverts anything songlike with dissonant flurries of strangled guitar.  It feels like the final performance of a rockabilly legend who just fell off the wagon in a bad way and will likely hang himself or murder a prostitute in his hotel room later that night unless someone intervenes.  The anthemic title piece that follows is a bit too straightforward for my taste, sadly, but Nance strikes gold again with his lovely, bittersweet cover of Haggard’s "Silver Wings."  For the most part, it is quite tuneful and reverent, blending male-female vocal harmonies and some nice pedal steel guitar, but it sounds like a goddamn plane (or UFO) crashes into the song around the halfway point, nearly eclipsing the whole song with a blast of snarling feedback, amp noise, and blooping electronic chaos.  Amazingly, the song somehow rights itself after that deliciously invasive "solo," though Nance manages to get in one nice farewell blast of feedback after the final chord.
Aside from nimbly walking the tightrope between explosive noise and tight songcraft, Nance also has an intriguing penchant for something similar to pastiche, yet quite a bit more inspired than that word implies: it is easy to identify a lot of his influences, but they are almost always filtered through his own ragged and nihilistic sensibility. Admittedly, he misses the mark a bit from time to time: the jangly "Give It Some Time," for example, sounds like it could be an Okkerville River demo (albeit quite a good one).  For the most part, however, it sounds like someone gave their talented insomniac friend a bottle of whiskey and a mixed tape of their favorite Big Star, Rolling Stones, and Gun Club songs and was repaid the next morning with a freshly recorded collection of his own wild, half-remembered, and spontaneous-sounding interpretations of them all.  Some songs are admittedly better than others, yet Nance has that rare and intangible gift that makes nearly everything he touches seem sincere, fiery, and right on the precipice of being out of control. Though there are plenty of aspects to Negative Boogie that I love (broken-sounding junkyard percussion, raw power, messy guitars, great hooks, the yelping and poetic stream-of-consciousness lyrics), it is primarily Nance's seemingly effortless "rock savant" persona that makes this such an unusual and transcendent album: he is equally at home howling about "cheeseburger amphetamines" ("DLATUMF Blues") or unleashing a beautifully smoldering and unstated guitar solo ("River With No Color").  Whether I understand where he is coming from or not, Nance always seems like he is trying to convey something extremely important and that he really fucking means it.  That is a rare thing in rock music these days.  When he is at his best, David Nance rocks like the world is ending.
I hesitate to use words like "raw" or "real" to describe Negative Boogie, as they tend to be overused and cynical shorthand for an artist's attempt to create the illusion of authenticity.  They seem to apply in their purest sense here though, as Negative Boogie feels entirely uncalculated, unpolished, explosive, and devoid of irony.  Nance's music, like that of fellow Nebraskan Simon Joyner, feels born of bleak Midwestern hopelessness, yet he has a striking talent for wresting poetry and black humor from that darkness (the latter best expressed in the ranting, almost conversational "Don’t Look at This Ugly Motherfucker Blues").  Amusingly, Nance and his backing band splurged on an actual studio session for this album rather than his usual home recording set-up, but somehow managed to use that opportunity to make an even more angry, frayed, and snarling album than usual, bashing out the entire thing in a single day.  Negative Boogie is just as no-frills as Nance's other albums, but now his trainwreck majesty is finally as loud and physical as it should have been all along.  This is one of those rare albums where the hit-to-miss ratio is almost irrelevant: song-wise, Negative Boogie is probably only a half-great album, yet the whole thing feels like a series of undiluted dispatches from an artist who feels like underground rock personified.  In a perfect and just world, Nance will be every bit as revered and influential as Robert Pollard once his body of work gets a bit more substantial: if Guided By Voices are the Beatles of indie rock, Nance and his band make a strong case for being the Exile-era Stones.
 
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With both of his primary projects releasing new material at nearly the same time, it becomes tempting to compare and contrast Richard Chartier’s academic-tinged solo work with the slightly campy (at least in presentation) Pinkcourtesyphone, and at the superficial level there is a lot of similarity. Both Removed and Something You Are Or Something You Do are slow, sparse works that at times drift into near silence, but besides the mood and presentation, the actual compositional approach separates them most. The two are rather distinct works that each capture part of Chartier’s style extremely effectively.
Ash International/The Tapeworm
Right from the onset of "Removed 1" (one of two lengthy pieces that comprise the album) the more clinical tendencies of Chartier's work are on display.What sounds like the ambience of an empty room is presented: a bit of still air and only a hint of environmental sounds slip through but are not at all easily decoded.Subtle panning makes it clear that there is actually something to be heard, as empty and spacious though it might be.Eventually more distinct sounds appear:icy and slow, but they carefully drift in and fill out the mix.The piece stays extremely hushed for most of its duration, but it is that subtlety which makes it so captivating.Eventually the entirety of the piece becomes more commanding, a pastiche of rich electronics and sounds that at times rumble the low end, and at others are near tinnitus inducing.Towards the end he gets a bit more forceful with the larger, more enveloping tones that appear, but it is clearly an experience designed for headphones.
For "Removed 2", Chartier once again accomplishes quite a lot drawing from an intentionally limited array of sounds.Opening with a passage of what almost could be wind, the volume is adjusted here and there but on the whole the piece stays rather consistent.It is comparably even more sparse:a gentle hum through frigid air for much of its opening.There are multiple changes and developments throughout the piece's 23+ minute duration, but they are so intentionally minute and understated that significant attention is required to appreciate them.
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Something You Are Or Something You Do, the latest Pinkcourtesyphone release, seems like a proper fit for the cassette format.For a project so tinged with vintage imagery, the medium is perfect.The analog imperfections of the tape work as well, as the gentle hiss adds to the barbiturate haze in its own way, but would have been entirely distracting for Removed.Right at the start "But it Felt/In Other Dreams" is far more commanding:a hazy, almost spacy wall of sound extending out with just the right amount of rumble to it.Despite some shimmering passages that shine through, it is a rather bleak and haunting bit of music, amongst the darkest in the PCP catalog.
The other side of the tape, "She Who Controls" is cut from a similar cloth, but has a greater density and sense of texture to it.The errant crackle gives a nice depth to the frigid roar that surrounds it.Compared to what preceded it, there is less change and more sustained, cavernous like dynamics to the piece.Structurally it is as stripped down as Chartier’s work on Removed, but with more demanding, forceful sounds.The ending is perhaps the most striking part of the composition, however, with a quick transition to lightness and bell-like tones that are far less oppressive than what preceded it.
On the surface, Richard Chartier's solo work and Pinkcourtesyphone may seem quite alike:both are projects of lengthy compositions, often kept at rather quiet volumes, and comprised of sparse, electronic tones and textures.Listening to them back to back, however, the distinction is very clear.Removed comes from more of a sound art background:classically minimalist with staunch attention to detail and structure.It is clinical, but not cold or inhuman in its character.Comparatively, Something You Are feels less rigid, yet there is a malignance in its enchanting ennui.It feels structurally looser, and a greater sense of rawness due to the more dissonant sounds Chartier is working with.But what it comes down to is that the two sides of this one brilliant artist’s work compliment each other perfectly, and both are essential listening, in my opinion.
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Compared to the multimedia project Sirens from last year, Thanasis Kaproulias’s latest work as Novi_sad is more of a return to his older style as far as composition goes. The single piece that makes up this album may be less concept-heavy, with the only information included being that is is based on environmental recordings in the US, Sweden, Brazil, and the Greek countryside. But even stripped back to just music, Wound_Burner excels in both its diversity and its sense of cohesion. Throughout the 45 minutes he mixes in digital interference, noisy found sounds, traditional electronics, and even voice (courtesy of Irini Kyriakidou in a swirling, yet structurally consistent and gripping album.
Leading off with near silence and echo-heavy field recordings, the piece is soon broken up with some heavy low end rumble and interrupting knocking noises that sound almost too lifelike.Far off traffic and sirens are made all the more sinister by the rumbling drone that surrounds them, using familiar sounds to disquieting effect.The sounds slowly drift off into silence before Kaproulias introduces a flat, almost vacuum like drone to the mix.It is intentionally monotonous, but is soon broken up by some jarring, violent explosive-like sounds that pummel through with a shocking intensity.
The mechanical, humming-like drone that follows is uncomfortably sparse and repetitive, because based on what preceded it, I was just waiting for another shocking outburst.Glitch fragments and found, rough sounds are peppered throughout, and kept me on edge for another harsh blast to occur.Even when it does not, the droning hum is amplified and becomes abrasive enough, but is soon paired with the voice of Kyriakidou, giving some semblance of humanity to the otherwise industrial disaster mood that preceded it.
This is a turning point for Wound_Burner, because the remainder of the composition is notably less menacing in comparison.Crackling, processed static like layers are blended with an almost conventional sounding passage of synthesizer.The sparse arrangement makes for a nice counterbalance to the chaos that preceded it, and even once some odd found sounds are added into the mix everything stays rather pleasant.The percussive rattling juxtaposes the hypnotic synth drone very well, making for a lovely, if somewhat odd pairing.
Atop the electronics, Kaproulias adds sloshing water and more vocals by Kyriakidou, filling out the mix nicely and taking the second half in a lighter, more inviting direction, even if the mix is dense and there is a significant amount of strange activity going on.Even some chirping birds are added in, seemingly leading the work into a peaceful, pastoral conclusion.Things do not stay as they seem though, and the sound drifts back into noisy territories more than a few times before ending on a slightly bleak, though not necessarily aggressive note.
There may not be a luxurious art book to accompany Wound_Burner, but the latest release from Thanasis Kaproulias stands perfectly on its own as a purely audio product.From its harsh, often jarring and occasionally terrifying first half to the more musical, placid second portion, I found the evolution and development of the work the album’s strongest asset.Never did I find anything predictable, and the strength of the record is not just its varied nature, but also Kaproulias’s expertise in shaping sounds, familiar and anything but.
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Nazoranai is the supergroup of Keiji Haino, Oren Ambarchi and Stephen O'Malley. For close to four decades, Haino has been a legendary figure in Japan's avant-garde community through his commanding presence in the band Fushitsusha and numerous solo ventures. Ambarchi, a prolific electro-acoustic composer of heavy ambience and hypno-rock, has long stood at the leading edge of Australia's experimental music scene, while O'Malley remains a principle architect for the drone / doom metal project Sunn O))) in harnessing extreme sub-harmonic frequencies.
Collectively, Nazoranai operates as a live recorded collaboration, although Haino is quick to point out the difference between the words "nazoranai" (which in Japanese calligraphy means "not repeating," as in developing a distinct, individual style) and "sokkyō" (referring specifically to improvisation). In this parsing of terms, the group separates themselves from the free-music scene, which can be just as convention-bound as the established genres from which improvisers hope to escape.
On the trio's third album, Beginning To Fall In Line Before Me, So Decorously, The Nature Of All That Must Be Transformed, Nazoranai explore two side-long tracks of superb abstraction. Ambarchi and O'Malley provide the perfect brute-rock rhythm section to Haino's recklessly pure expression through instrument and voice. Blurred noise, dark hurdy-gurdy and thunderous harmonics build an accretive mantra of jagged electricity.
While Haino's extensive discography resists easy interpretation, he constantly challenges himself to further his art by channeling the unknown. Shifting from his native Japanese to English, he asks: "Do you still have a mystery?" This existential plea could apply to the artist's own deep inquisitions or stand to confront his audience about that which eludes their understanding.
W.25TH / Superior Viaduct is proud to present Nazoranai's latest work, recorded at SuperDeluxe in Tokyo, which marks the band's first release on an American label.
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The Centre Cannot Hold was recorded over ten days by Steve Albini in Chicago. The music exists not in space, but in a space; it is a document of an event, of a room, and of the composer within it. It is music that is not fully controlled and appears to be anxiously, often violently competing against its creator.
An exercise in limitation and chromatic saturation, The Centre Cannot Hold is an attempt at transcribing a spectrum of glowing ultramarine into sound.
More information can be found here.
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Emptyset stand at the vanguard of electronic music. With each release, they stretch boundaries and explore new methods of creating sounds with scientific precision. On their EP Skin, Emptyset (the duo of James Ginzburg and Paul Purgas) bring together techniques they developed through their 2017 LP Borders, exploring structural aspects of ritual music and non-Western composition and combine them with recent performance work examining microtonal vocalization and acoustic qualities of materials. This is the first time Emptyset has presented a body of work using entirely acoustic production methods.
The compositions of Skin are all focused around structure, texture, and rhythm captured through recordings of a custom string instrument, drums, and physical granular materials modulated in real-time, alongside tonal vocal elements.
More information can be found here.
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