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This is my first exposure to this Chicago super-duo consisting of Steven Hess (Pan•American/Locrian) and Michael Vallera (COiN), but they have actually existed long enough to record a loosely related trilogy of albums that culminates in this one.  According to Immune, Drown is the "apex of a five-year exploration of image, space, and sound," so I guess it is as good a place to start as any.  I cannot say I have much to note about their image, but I am legitimately impressed with Cleared’s use of both space and sound, as they strongly resemble an improbable convergence of Sunn O))), Cocteau Twins, and Tortoise.  It does not always work entirely seamlessly, but it sure is great when it does.
The most immediately striking aspect of Drown for me is that Vallera and Hess seem more than happy to sound like a two-man band: there is certainly some layering happening, but not much happens that sounds like it could not be replicated live with the help of some looping pedals.  That decision unexpectedly turns out to be one of Cleared's primary strengths, as their stripped-down aesthetic is actually more unique that their actual content.  I do like the content too though, even if Steven and Michael err a bit on the side of being too sketch-like/improvisational-sounding for me at times.
They are at their best when they combine doom-y brooding and distortion-worship with trance-inducing percussion patterns, as they do in the roiling-death-drone-meets-tambourines epic "Remote Ocean Prayer," which is also nicely embellished by some stuttering and static-y electronics.  The duo triumph again with the nightmarish, grinding horror of "Tracing Mirror," enhanced beautifully by an understated techno throb.  If they had just stuck with heavy drones and alternately pummeling or hypnotic rhythms, Drown would have been a crushing monster of an album.  As it stands, however, Cleared opted for variety and innovation rather than making the more predictable album that I would have preferred.  I suppose that is noble, but it still makes the rest of the album a bit uneven.
Most of it is still quite good though.  "Warmth," for example, drops the rhythmic component of Cleared’s successful formula to leave only shuddering, densely heavy drone, though it is enlivened by cavernous ringing swells and something that sounds like a slow-motion, pitch-shifted maraca pattern.  "Mercury" follows a similar template, though it instead features some heavy kit drumming from Hess that is too slow to quite resolve into a satisfying rhythm.  Hess's drum parts are far more compelling in the bludgeoning opener "Flowers for Lead" and the tribal tom dirge of "Nights."
Unfortunately, however, both of those pieces are undermined by watery, chorus-heavy dreampop guitars.  While I am generally the last person on earth to take issue with anything dreampop-related, adding a melodic guitar component to the Cleared aesthetic crosses the invisible barrier separating abstract music from actual songs.  While there is not anything fundamentally wrong with pieces like "Drown" or "Nights," there is just not enough to sustain my attention: when they are going for atmosphere, Cleared are wonderful, but when they bring melodies into the picture, it just sounds like two guys jamming on a promising song-sketch that still needs vocals or something.
Maybe that feeling is totally subjective to me though, as I think my capacity to be bored to death by post-rock far exceeds that of many other music fans.  In any case, there are at least two or three unquestionably heavy and wonderful pieces here and I am a big fan of Hess's glacially slow drumming.  Cleared are definitely doing something right.  Is a couple of excellent songs enough reason to declare an album a success?  I am not sure.  That is certainly more than most albums have.  Regardless, Cleared seem like a promising band with more cool ideas than a fully-formed art-metal juggernaut at this point, but they definitely got my attention.
 
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Initially released in 1997, three years after Derek Jarman's passing, The Garden Was Full of Metal was a fitting tribute to the legendary director. It also, however, helped to demonstrate that Robin Rimbaud was a musician with a more significant artistry than solely relying on the novelty of presenting covertly recorded wireless phone conversations. Reissued for the 20th anniversary of Jarman's death, with four additional songs from the same sessions, it remains an extremely personal tribute to one artist from another.
Intimacy was always a major facet of Rimbaud's work as Scanner, but here he turns that inward, via an emotional tribute to an artist whom he was heavily inspired by.It might not be as an overt as secretly recorded telephone calls were, but there is an extremely personal and poignant gravitas in these recordings.Rimbaud speaks of these compositions as "sound Polaroids," utilizing recordings of places and locations important in Jarman's life as source material, with a restrained use of instrumentation and relatively simple processing and effects.Interspersed with this are excerpts from various Jarman interviews throughout the years.
"Experience" exemplifies the approach of this album, with its layered voice samples and basic keyboard sounds that fold back into themselves.The arrangement may be simple, but the result is beautiful."Drop" sees Rimbaud using both instrument and voice samples, largely reversed and paired with a brittle but memorable drum loop that is one of the few things that dates this album as from the late 1990s.Rhythms are used sparingly throughout the album otherwise, mostly via processed sounds or synth patterns. On "Their Own Space" the beat is generated from either a treated sample or bit of keyboard tone that makes for a nice contrast to the more mournful electronic sounds.
On a piece such as "Fravaer," the rhythm is less overt and more insinuated via light thumping noises that accompany string swells and what sounds to be field recording loops.The same feel bleeds into "Rosa Rugosa," with a simple skittering click sample as percussion with dramatic piano and strings that could easily be a film score piece.
The four newly added songs from the same sessions fit in beautifully with the remainder of the work."Circles of Stone" is another passage of melancholy synthesizers that are filmic without being unnecessarily dramatic."Translucence" is a short but sweet piece of new age-y electronics mixed with interview fragments, and "I Waited a Lifetime" is admittedly more skeletal than the remainder of the album, but its slowly progressing piano fits the album’s mood perfectly.The final piece, "Garden (Redux)" seems to be a mix of the album as a whole, and while it clearly has a sound collage feeling to it, it fits together better than most of this sort.
Even 17 years after its first issue, The Garden is Full of Metal retains all of the reverence and celebration of Jarman's life that it intended.Additionally, Robin Rimbaud's work remains just as distinct and powerful as it did then, and with the additional material added, the result being richer and more fully realized.It is a perfect example of how an artist and composer who is creating something so intimate and personal that it can transcend time and technology, a description that is apt for both Rimbaud and Jarman's art.
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Sutekh Hexen are one of the few artists who successfully transcended that boundary between esoteric black metal and experimental noise without seeming to be also-ran poseurs in an already crowded field.   They also manage to dabble with occult imagery and moods without it coming across as a simple ploy for attention. This most recent release, Monument of Decay reissues an out of print limited LP and cassette from last year with a wider availability and a previously unreleased ten minute bonus piece appended.
Right from the first moments of "Lastness," a dark and oppressive fog enshrouds everything, obscuring sweeping noises and sinister metallic rattling to add mood and tension.Some sort of perceptible melody can be heard via simple synth sequence, but the heavily processed vocals keep it from sounding anything but conventional.The second half peels back a few of the menacing layers, but keeps its expansive, droning nature."Dakhma" is comprised of similar elements, but on the whole stays a bit calmer:more bleak than evil and more ambient than dense.There are some harsher elements that sneak through, offsetting the undulating noise and melancholy electronics, but staying more open ended without becoming too placid.
The two pieces in the middle of the original running order are where the real meat and power of the album lies."…Of Emanation" transitions smoothly from "Lastness," but after a stripped down intro it launches into full on pounding rhythms and heavily processed screaming.A dense digital sheen places everything in a nebulous space between metal (the rapid fire drumming and screaming vocals), and noise (everything else in the mix).
On "Dhumavati's Hunger," the band pushes the metal elements even further below, only overtly represented by a bit of creaking, grinding guitar noise that manages to occasionally slip through.Most of the song, however, is focused on sharp, crackling static and a lurking low-end drone that keeps things dark and terrifying.Compared to what preceded it, there is a bit more restraint to be heard, but it is still nicely raw and hulking.
This new CD issue of Monument of Decay adds lengthy a new piece, "Shadows II," that makes for an exceptional addition to an already strong release.Thin, brittle layers of noise blend with each other to lead off aggressive, but soon opens up to a surprisingly expansive, delicate passage of guitar and ambience, making for the calmest moment on this album by far.These musical inclinations stay present, even though they are soon overtaken by a jet engine-like roar blasting through.The melody stays there, obscured by blasting noise and metallic undercurrents, resulting in a constantly mutating, evolving piece of music.After a lengthy silence, the piece reappears in reverse, bringing out some different elements and sounds than what was previously heard.
The major influences on Sutekh Hexen are not hard to spot, but they clearly take those influences in a their own direction, with an occult feel that is more deep rooted than just outward imagery.There is a fitting sense of malignance that permeates Monument of Decay, and like a good horror story, it is that unspecified sense of evil that makes for its biggest attraction.
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Blackest Ever Black presents to you Dead Unique, an album by Officer! recorded in 1995 but - outrageously, inexplicably - never before released into the public domain. This then is not a reissue or a revival; it's a new record that just happens to have been maturing in the cask for, oh, a little shy of 20 years. It also happens to be a lost classic of English art-rock, and the crowning achievement in the career of its mercurial creator, Mick Hobbs, who was closely associated with This Heat and their Cold Storage studio.
A complex but thrillingly immediate avant-pop song cycle that charms and confounds at every turn, Dead Unique will give immense pleasure not only to Officer!’s existing cult following, but to anyone with an appreciation of piquant, idiosyncratic songcraft – fans of Kevin Ayers, Flaming Tunes, Art Bears, Woo, Dislocation Dance, R. Stevie Moore, Robert Wyatt, Cleaners From Venus, Lol Coxhill or The Monochrome Set should especially pay attention. It touches upon ragged-raw rock ‘n roll, sumptuous chamber music, pastoral folk, blowsy prog-jazz and paranoid dub-space, effortlessly shifting from skronking abstraction to rousing harmonic refrain and back again.
Blurring the roles of storyteller, poet and prankster, Hobbs turns memorable line after memorable line, booby-trapping them with mischievous puns, fleet-footed literary allusions, sudden digressions and shifts of register, nonsense rhymes and other wordplay. But his acute wit and flair for the absurd is moored by a deep romantic sensibility, and though it delights in the minutiae of the human comedy, Dead Unique ultimately addresses its biggest themes: love, loss, commitment, independence, the mutability and inconstancy of all things. "You lose, you learn, you advance…but you always go back."
More information can be found here.
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Wilderness of Mirrors is the new album from Lawrence English. It is two years in the making and the first album created since the release of his 2011 ode to J.A Baker’s novel, The Peregrine. It is English’s most tectonic auditory offering to date, an unrelenting passage of colliding waves of harmony and dynamic live instrumentation.
The phrase, wilderness of mirrors, draws its root from T.S Eliot’s elegant poem "Gerontion." During the cold war, the phrase became associated with campaigns of miscommunication carried out by opposing state intelligence agencies. Within the context of the record, the phrase acted as a metaphor for a process of iteration that sat at the compositional core of the LP. Buried in each final piece, like an unheard whisper, is a singularity that was slowly reflected back upon itself in a flood of compositional feedback. Erasure through auditory burial.
Wilderness Of Mirrors also reflects English’s interests in extreme dynamics and densities, something evidenced in his live performances of the past half decade. The album’s overriding aesthetic of harmonic distortion reveals his ongoing explorations into the potentials of dense sonics.
“During the course of this record,” English explains, “I was fortunate enough to experience live performances by artists I deeply respect for their use of volume as an affecting quality, specifically Earth, Swans and My Bloody Valentine. I had the chance to experience each of these groups at various stages in the making this record and each of them reinforced my interest in emulating that inner ear and bodily sensation that extreme densities of vibration in air brings about.”
The album is moreover a reflection on the current exploitation of the ideals of the wilderness of mirrors, retuned and refocused from the politics of the state, to the politics of the modern multiplex. The amorphous and entangled nature of the modern world is one where thoughtless information prevails in an environment starved of applied wisdom. Wilderness Of Mirrors is a stab at those living spectres (human and otherwise) that haunt our seemingly frail commitments to being humane.
“We face constant and unsettled change,” English notes, “It's not merely an issue of the changes taking place around us, but the speed at which these changes are occurring. We bare witness to the retraction of a great many social conditions and contracts that have previously assisted us in being more humane than the generations that precede us. We are seeing this ideal of betterment eroded here in Australia and abroad too. This record is me yelling into what seems to be an ever-growing black abyss. I wonder if my voice will reflect off something?”
Wilderness Of Mirrors is reflection upon reflection, a pure white out of absolute aurality.
Out July 21, 2014. More information here.
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Melt Into Nothing is ENSEMBLE ECONOMIQUE's most lucid seance to date. The prolific Humboldt County musician has stripped layers off of his trademark haze but retained the beautiful desolation that’s earned him a rabid fanbase. The solo project of former Starving Weirdos member Brian Pyle, Ensemble Economique has crossed a land bridge from apocryphal world music and dusty soundtracks to gauzy 4AD-style atmospherics. Trellises of guitar embolden Pyle’s whispered, threadbare lyrics. On "Hey Baby," the itinerant tone feels like an update on Neil Young's stark and beautiful soundtrack for Jarmusch's "Dead Man." "Melt Into Nothing," like that beautiful film music, evokes the great American expanse.
Field recordings slip in and out of the mix. On "Fade for Miles," Pyle's adroit effects and backwards tape manipulation make the long trail on his vocals fade into waves on a rocky beach. Pyle combines minor-key organ and spacious string synths on "Never Gonna Die," recalling the grey grace of the releases on Factory's gothic cousin, Benelux. Thunder accentuates the dubbed-out machine drum programming as Pyle's dulcet tenor floats in storm clouds. The full-length also features contributions from Toronto artist DenMother and Parisian artist Sophia Hamadi, also of dark-wave Opale. This music is not excessively dark or severe. Rather, the record explores the internal dialogue of solitary walks. "Melt Into Nothing" is for making sense of humanity in nature’s unforgiving face. Ensemble Economique has made his most accessible record yet, but the complex emotion behind these tracks remains resonant and ultimately mysterious.
Out June 27th, 2014. More info can eventually be found here.
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Side A - "The Temple Bell Stops"
Side B - "But The Sound Keeps Coming" and "Out Of The Flowers."
Recorded at SOMA studios on April 21st, 2013 by The Norman Conquest. One take performances recorded without overdubs with the exception of an ARP 2600 Analog Synthesizer track by The Norman Conquest on "But The Sound Keeps Coming."
"Out Of The Flowers" was an improvisation with The Norman Conquest on the ARP.
Source material for "The Temple Bell Stops" and "But The Sound Keeps Coming" recorded by me at home in Chicago and in the field. Chanting on "The Temple Bell Stops" by an unknown monk at Jogyesa Buddhist Temple in Seoul, South Korea.
Additional contributions on "But The Sound Keeps Coming" by anonymous Cardinals, Nuthatches, Tufted Titmice, Woodpeckers and Blue-Jays in Hobart, Indiana; also Tree Frogs and Crickets at Hussy Lake, Michigan and Grasshoppers and Gold Finches at Clark and Pine Dune and Swale preserve in Gary, Indiana.
“There is all the time in the world for studying music, but for living there is scarcely any time at all. For living takes place each instant and that instant is always changing. The wisest thing to do is to open one’s ears immediately and hear a sound suddenly before one’s thinking has a chance to turn it into something logical, abstract, or symbolical. Sounds are sounds and men are men, but now our feet are a little off the ground.” -John Cage, from Juilliard Lectureenople
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Mind-shattering double LP of dysphoric space-rock minimalism from two luminaries of the Swedish punk underground.
Second Launch follows Bremen’s self-titled debut of 2013 and comprises 11 controlled improvisations, reinforced with overdubs, that take clear inspiration from the dark side of kraut and progressive rock, early electronic and drone music, whilst also owing something to the fathomlessly bleak interior landscapes conjured by Nico/Cale on The Marble Index and Desertshore.
The complex dialogue between Lanchy Orre’s guitar and Jonas Tiljander’s organ, by turns pensive and combative, bound up with their mastery of reverb and feedback, is the focal point of the record; supplemented with drums and sparingly deployed analogue synthesizer tones to evoke nothing less than the vast emptiness of outer space and the obliteration of all meaning and identity in the face of it.
From the full-throttle motorik and bonehead repetitions of "Sweepers" and "Entering Phase Two" (echoes of Tiljander and Orre's alma mater, Brainbombs) to the deep astral psychedelia of "Static Interferences," via the mournful Northern European ambience of "Walking The Skies," the rolling thunder of "They Were Drifting" and the poignant, stargazing blues of "Hollow Wave," Second Launch charts impossible gradients in its search for answers to the oldest questions of all.
More information here.
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A three-pronged advance through the heart of physical sunshine playing on the floor of the jungle. Epic, insistent collabasitions played out over four sides making a whole.
(Slightly) more information here.
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Since the reformation of Wire in the early 2000s, solo and side projects from Colin Newman and Graham Lewis have been scant to say the least, with only the occasional odd release or compilation song to be heard. Therefore, the announcement of not just one, but two new Lewis albums immediately grabbed my attention, and immediately made me wonder how they might differ being issued as true solo albums (as opposed to as He Said or Hox). Featuring assistance from collaborators including Thomas Öberg (27#11), Andreas Karperyd (He Said Omala, Hox), and Paul Thomsen Kirk (Akatombo), the results were certainly worth the wait, and make for the perfect culmination of his work to date.
Even at a quick spinning, it makes sense for these to be released as two distinct albums as they differ so significantly from each other.All Over is the more accessible of the two, and could easily have been branded a He Said release and sit nicely alongside Hail and Take Care.Like that project's peak era, it is his use of conventional, largely electronic instrumentation in unconventional arrangements that lead to a sense of dissonance, but never straying far from memorable pop hooks.Just like "ABC Dicks Love" and "Could You?" were fascinating bits of off-kilter synth pop with Lewis' eternally smooth vocals leading the way, "Straight into The Corner" has a modernized electronic feel in its stabbing percussion and slightly disjointed melody, given extra momentum by his vocal performance.
The rapid, danceable beat that underscores "The Start of Next Week" keeps things up-tempo amidst more chaotic passages and heavy vocal processing.Catchy but frenzied, he overall sound is reminiscent of the brilliant 27#11 single from a few years back. Some more contemporary IDM sounds and production appears on "Bluebird" but in a slower, moodier progression overall.
"We've Lost Your Mind," released as a teaser a few months ago, also conjures feelings like another throwback to times past.Its loose, poppy structure and tastefully prominent synth sequence sounds like something that would appear if Wire's A Bell is a Cup was recorded this year.Closing song "Passport to International Travel" ends the album on a high, frenetic note.With a punky exuberance and a rapid tempo, it is an undeniably energetic and fun song, with a youthful energy that solidifies the fact that Edvard Graham Lewis is the coolest 61 year old on Earth.
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The companion album, All Under, takes a far more abstract direction in comparison, for the first half dropping the beats and vocals for dissonant electronic textures and odd effects in an overall sound that fits well with the more difficult Dome moments with Bruce Gilbert."All Under (Film Score)" drifts from an industrial scrape to a modular synth twinkle into pure DSP crunch in just under six minutes; all the more impressive considering it was recorded live with just a sampler and effects.The "All Under (Installation Loop)" version is significantly longer and more skeletal, at first hollow and drifting, then mixed with sharper feedback and pinging electronics that upset things nicely.
Graham takes the remaining half of the album in even odder directions."The Eel Wheeled" is a spoken word piece:a surrealist tale of espionage backed by Lewis' heavy mangling of a standard sound effects library, with a second half that progressively becomes unhinged in the most brilliant way.The lengthy "No Show Godot" has some hints of the sound that defined All Over, but in a sprawling, 18 plus minute expanse.Initially opening as drifting ambient piece with a slight acerbic edge to it, it becomes more abrasive via stuttering passages of noise that ends up locking into an oddly skewed rhythmic structure.This moves into an overt, electronic drum circle type pounding and mostly untreated vocals.
Given the length of time since the last full-fledged solo release from Graham Lewis, I had high expectations for All Under/All Over.Considering the fact they were recorded over the past decade, it makes sense that these two cover the gamut of his previous styles as a series of ideas and snippets that benefited from the time Lewis took to polish and expand.With one half encompassing dissonant and experimental electronic music that has a uniquely powerful penchant for pop hooks and memorable vocals, and the other hinting back to his earliest experiments with music and noise, the two albums are inseparable sides of the same coin. They both also clearly show that nearly 40 years into his career, Graham Lewis is an artist unlike any other in the quality and uniqueness of his work.
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Papir's fourth album shows off the trio's dynamism and subtlety across a broad range of emotional and technically impressive instrumental passages, recalling influences as diverse and possibly accidental as Durutti Column and Hawkwind.
I have slowly developed considerable liking for this four song release. Not that there isn’t plenty of immediate pleasure in listening to IIII but some aspects of these lengthy instrumental pieces are revealed more gradually. The drumming, for example, takes the lead at times, even seeming to hold the melody on "IIII". While IIII is a proper album, in that it is a very coherent and connected composition, it does not have a recurrent theme, although the start of "II" and the whole of "IIII" share a mood of cool reflection after some frenetic interplay between instruments.
Papir has one foot in post-rock and another in an earlier, more muscular or fleshed-out progressive music with echoes of riff-driven psychedelia and surf-guitar. These influences do not tip over into mere pastiche and are kept very subservient to the trio’s own dynamic and semi-improvisational style. Thankfully, even on the extended passages, that style doesn’t really develop into an awkward situation where just the musicians are having all the fun.
Depending on my mood I either start the album with the brisk Tortoise-esque "I" or with the shortest piece, "IIII," which almost resembles a post-rock take on Peter Green’s "Albatross." This is only an option with the CD version as "IIII" is left off the vinyl due to lack of space.
Papir use lashings of twang and wah wah, achieve plenty of tweaks in tone and tension, and effectively use changes in pace and volume to add freshness and variety. My favorite of these changes is during "III," around 11 minutes in, where they drop into a complete silence then add a quiet guitar figure in a slower pace for a while. The effect is rather like the protagonist in a Murakami novel jumping a wall into a peaceful alley and sitting; an escape into another world away from the crowded city and his pressing concerns. Papir also execute a good hypnotic trick: making me listen so intently to the nuances and repetition in their music that I miss the exact point when—to put it in visual terms—the vase becomes two people kissing. This is an immersing release from a young Scandinavian trio.
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