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![cover image](/brain/images/can_buy_me_love_iv.jpg)
The only real consistency on this compilation is the electronic nature of the tracks. Putting the spazcore video game techno of Alien Hand's "The One and Only Time You Touch the Boys of Malin" on the same disc as the restrained ambient pad synths of Subsonika's "Bitch" is an odd proposition, but curator Mixomatosis decided to do just that. As someone whose taste in electronic music as a whole ranges from "it's ok" to "I love it" depending on the subgenre, I had a similar perspective on this disc. But honestly, it works better than I expected in most situations. For example, I would never consider myself to be a big fan of gabber (the late '90s techno variant where 909 drum machines are used like Mac-10s), but Peter Z & Lispent's "Jagtvej 69 (Tribute)" is exactly that, and I caught myself enjoying it.
Although it admittedly runs the gamut of styles, one glance at artists such as Stuntcock and Mr. Cunt makes me inclined to believe that the next Iannis Xenaxis is most likely NOT hiding amongst these tracks, but as a whole, it functions as a great corollary to the more scatological end of the grindcore spectrum. But with a greater variety in style….as a fan of that stuff as well, I know even I would be hard pressed to discern Anal Cunt from Agoraphobic Nosebleed in many contexts, but that's not as much of a difficulty here.
Some of the contributions are purely comical in nature, such as the aforementioned Mr. Cunt's mushmouthed yelling over faux porno groans and cheap Casio presets. Again, definitely not everyone's cup of tea, but as someone who tries to find humor in everything, I welcome such shenanigans. Admittedly, not everything over such a wide span of artists is going to be in everyone's spectrum of taste, and I must say that the intentionally cheesy General MIDI sound of Patrick May's various contributions did not do much for me, nor did Iivix's "Modern Love is So Romantic," which was too simplistic house techno in its sound. I was personally most intrigued with the slower paced moodier works like Datarapist's "Roadcones," and the esoteric ones like the glitch sputter of Hertodyne's "Uncivilized," which I caught myself returning to multiple times.
By its very nature it can be an alienating listen due to the massive variety of mostly unknown artists on here, and the compilation is quick to jump from subgenre to subgenre, so those who consider themselves to be, say, only fans of drum 'n bass will probably hate more than they like on here. More open-minded listeners, however, will appreciate the veritable variety platter that is Can Buy Me Love IV as a way to check out new artists without having to click through tedious Myspace pages or rely on friends with specious taste in music.
samples:
- Subsonika - "Bitch"
- Stuntcock - "The Casual Acquaintance Remix"
- Datarapist - "Roadcones"
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![cover image](/brain/images/skullflower-iiird_gatekeeper.jpg)
Maybe not their first album, IIIrd Gatekeeper is perhaps their most well known. The trio (at this time) of the band's only consistent member, guitarist Matthew Bower, alongside drummer and vocalist (if you count the occasional muffled groans as such) Stewart Dennison (who also did time in Ramleh), and bassist Anthony DiFranco (of Novatron/AX/JFK) crafted this hour long mix of murky, stoned out stabs at rock with a serious bend towards the experimental. Fittingly issued by Justin Broadrick's Head Dirt label back in 1992, the opening strains of guitar feedback, fuzzed out bass, and slow, pounding caveman drums on "Can You Feel It?" both makes for an appropriate question and a raison d'etre for the remaining hour or so. Throughout the track, the careful balance of hypnotic repetition meshed with subtle dynamics that consistently move along at a glacial pace is struck.
Tracks like the faster paced "Larks Tongues" manage to shift in dynamics even more, from the pummeling drums and bass that are met with vast open air spaces of unadulterated feedback and guitar abuse. "Center Puss" even displays a nod to the psychedelic with its lead guitar lines being fed through heavy wah and flange. At the same time, I can almost hear the nods to the US grunge scene that was contemporaneous to this album (at the very early stages when it was still relevant) in the muddy Black Sabbath inspired lurch of "Saturnalia" with overlaid feedback squeals.
Admittedly, there is not a great deal of change or variation from track to track on IIIrd Gatekeeper, nor should there be. It is one of the rare instances in which the simplicity in structure and minimal repetition are an asset, and not a liability, and each track shows enough dynamics throughout to remove the threat or fear of boredom from encroaching. Even the longer tracks, like "Godzilla" ape the prototypical "simplicity in excellis" approach of Velvet Underground, which showed that a simple theme amped up loud enough and pushed with enough vigor could just loom sonically and be compelling.
Although as a reissue it doesn't receive the full deluxe treatment with extra tracks or anything, the core of the album is still there and sounds cleaner than ever (based on my previous experience with tapes/MP3s of the original disc), and it comes packaged in an attractive mini-gatefold LP style jacket. The music is just as relevant now as it was some 15 years ago upon its original release, and perhaps even more so. The thick syrupy drones of Sunn O))) and the neo-shoegaze blur of A Place to Bury Strangers both owe a great deal to Skullflower's early ventures into the sludge, and kudos to Crucial Blast for making this classic available again. Now guys, maybe Xaman or Infinityland next?
samples:
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![](/brain/images/byla_jarboe-viscera.jpg)
Alternating between amplified and acoustic compositions (three of the former and two of the latter), every track (each named after its respective running time) explores the richness of harmonics inherent in this particular stringed instrument. The three heavily amplified and distorted tracks—"15:35," "10:58," and "19:45"—are indeed visceral extended wall-of-sound six-stringed workouts, best heard on headphones so that the total sonic blanket can envelop the listener in a cocoon of noise. In "15:35" for example, sweeping forceful chording and subtle layering—along with a delicate ringing bell-like motif that comes in about half-way through—constantly builds one upon the other, creating tonalities that enhance and complement the main backdrop. "19:45," the standout track for me, starts out with a rapid-fire lead figure before exploding into a barrage of blistering fuzzed-out noise that completely pummels and sears through both ears scorchingly, to meet somewhere in the middle and melting any bits of gray matter that get in the way. Finally the blanket of noise gives way to searing feedback that constitutes the final two or three minutes of the piece. The style of subtly changing layering first manifested in "15:35" is continued here in a slow-rolling evolution, ensuring that the sound never remains static or redundant. The remaining noise track, "10:58," is very much in the same vein with the addition of lower-register growly vocals, infusing a demonic flavor into the meat of the piece.
Contrastingly—and quite startlingly so in some respects, given the rest of the album—"02:28" and "06:41" are entirely acoustic affairs. Of the two the latter is the better, opening with a miminalist plucked harmonic leading into some finger-style treated guitar providing both backdrop and counterpoint for Jarboe's ethereal voice. These two acoustic songs are almost like quiet interludes, intended to let you catch your breath before plunging you headlong once more into the maelstrom.
Admittedly I use the word mesmerizing quite often and I won't apologize for using it again in the context of this album. It is indeed a mesmerizing set of songs that batter and soothe by turns, and that both repels you with unadulterated power and then soothingly beguiles you with delicately soft tones. That aspect surprised me on the first hearing and I wasn't entirely convinced that it was a successful move, but having heard it three or four times since I now believe it to be one of the strengths of the album, emphasizing a) the range of the musical explorations of the musicians and b) their willingness to engage in a bit of risky experimentation. Many albums of a more mainstream nature seem to include a quiet track or two just for the sake of it, as a sop to variety and so-called musical breadth, rather than as a deliberate statement. This collaborative album is both a definite and considered statement, in other words that distorted guitar noise can be just as beautiful as the finest acoustic ballad.
samples:
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![](/brain/images/cccc-chaosiscosmos.jpg)
C.C.C.C. (Cosmic Coincidence Control Centre) is porn star Mayuko Hino and her husband Hiroshi Hasegawa (YBO2, Astro & South Saturn Delta) with contributions from Fumio Kosakai (Hijokaidan & Incapacitants) and Ryuichi Nagakubo (Tangerine Dream Syndicate). It is worth noting that Hino believes that noise should be emotionally driven rather than intellectually, in other words it is a matter of being in the moment and expressing that moment in whatever way feels appropriate; she also believes that much can be gleaned of a performer's personality through the species of noise produced. On a personal note I think this is how the best abstract art operates, that every painting, drawing, or performance is representative of a particular point in time and a particular emotion. Without the straitjacket of intellectual underpinnings the results become less restricted and much freer with a much broader canvas on which to be expressed. Chaos is the Cosmos is painted with broad frenzied brushstrokes and with flailing abandon for the most part, slabs of guitar fuzz feedback and keyboard generated noise providing solid background for the sound of howling instruments being tortured and abused whilst Mayuko's voice and screams and screeching caterwauling guitar pick out the highlights. It never lets up for the entire length with the exception of a brief interlude that lasts about a couple of minutes. It then picks up the relentless tempo once more until the conclusion. It is the roiling boiling heat of chaos and creation—which is indeed the foundation of cosmos—that beneath every manifestation of apparent order there prevails, on some microscopic level, disorder; atoms and molecules colliding with and spinning off each other in eternal turmoil, planets, asteroids and huge star-systems tearing themselves apart and reforming in continuous galactic evolution. It is the black hole that swallows everything within its purview, rending and smashing, dissembling matter into its constituent particles in a violent whirlpool of wanton destruction.
This, however, is not to imply that this is just noise for the sake of it. There is constant evolution and invention, always something new to engage the ear, enervating the mind and listener. This is what marks this out above a great deal of noise: the sheer playfulness and inventiveness, and my attention was held for the full length of almost 45 minutes. This ever-changing and evolving piece reflects the hermetic dictum as above, so below it would appear—just like in the deepest reaches of our cosmos the engines of chaos bring order out of themselves in bursts of intense creation. Moreover, this monumental maelstrom of cacophony gives the distinct impression that it has always existed even before the play button was pressed to ON and that it will go on existing well after the CD has stopped. I would hope that C.C.C.C. will take the time to capture another glimpse of that eternal creation and unending destruction for us to enjoy sometime in the near future; at least I hope we don't have to wait another ten years before the next release.
samples:
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![Time Frost Cover Image](/brain/images/rapoontimefrost.jpg)
Considering the chilly subject matter, the album has a thick, full bodied sound. Storey used an old vinyl copy of Strauss' Blue Danube for much of the source material. Even though the piece is digitally processed beyond recognition, the richness of the orchestra and the snowy crackle of the record still remain. That analogue glow colors the sparse, unaccompanied loops, providing variety to the simple, repetitious song structures. Even in the arid, droning "Horizon Discrete," the fluidity of Strauss' music remains intact, like the wind blowing up drifts from a glacier.
The hypothetical waste-land that Storey envisions is not featureless and uniformly hostile. The time lapse waltz of "Thin Light" elegantly evokes a winter sunrise. Bubbly synthesizers mimic a thick, wet snow-shower in "A Color of Darkness." Without shouting the message, these tracks suggest that the world's beauty will continue, even if it becomes too hostile for us to live on it.
Despite a personal affinity for the natural world, music with environmental themes has always struck me as cheesy. Although the destruction humanity inflicts on the planet is truly dramatic, it is easier to make an episode of Captain Planet than a nuanced work of art. By remaining ambiguous, however, Time Frost has a much better chance of aging well than the bloated pontifications of Live Earth. Even if global warming is not your crusade, you can still sit back and enjoy this album. No moralizing is required.
samples:
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![cover image](/brain/images/cartertuttiferalvapoursofthesilverether.jpg)
There is a delicate and serene mood to Feral Vapours of the Silver Ether; the quiet piano melody of "Torn Window" is one of the loveliest things Carter and Tutti have done under any name. The imagery Cosey employs throughout the album is equally gorgeous; metaphysical and poetic at the same time, the ghost of William Blake haunting her lyrics. Almost a whisper and full of hope, her vocals are very much the silver ether of the album's title. Her voice is perfectly matched by her mournful cornet blasts, as primal as always but with a more controlled force. Chris Carter's electronic treatments and rhythms are barely there but add definition to the airy atmospheres, like thin embellishments with oils on a watercolour painting.
Compared to Chris and Cosey's other big album of the year (Throbbing Gristle's Part Two: The Endless Not), this is a far more satisfying release. Where I found the new TG to be good but far from a return to form (especially after the excellent TG Now from a couple of years ago), Feral Vapours… is as solid as any of Chris and Cosey's previous releases. There are some similar sonic territories being explored here as on Part Two (as expected really), the quieter and jazzier side of Part Two evidently owed a lot to this half of the group. "Breathless Endings" is of a similar vibe to TG's "Rabbit Snare"; a kind of dark blue.
With Feral Vapours…, Carter Tutti continue to progress. The pastoral approach they have adopted in recent years is as engaging as the more robust and danceable beats of Chris and Cosy. In all honesty I prefer this new approach, much like when Coil embraced their moon music fully and entered the most interesting part of their career. Whether this is going to be a long-term engagement with the gentler side of their music is anyone's guess but for now Carter Tutti are definitely piquing my interest more than Chris & Cosey did.
samples:
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![cover image](/brain/images/northernstatecanikeepthispen.jpg)
Despite the feelings of musical inertia I sometimes get from Can I Keep This Pen? in terms of pushing the creative envelope, it is still an entertaining album. The rhymes are not bad; in some places they are geeky and funny, in others they are sharp and serious but they never really have as much of a bite as they could. Songs like "Better Already" and "Away Away" are cracking pieces of pop, the chorus on the latter is particularly good. Some of the brasher tracks such as "Cold War" do not sit quite well with me but I would not go so as to say that I dislike them; they just don't have the same magnetism as the better parts of the album.
Taking pot shots at conservative America, "Sucka MoFo" makes references to pro-life Republican voters driving gas-guzzling vehicles. Not to belittle these topics but lines poor political choices come across as easy targets. Then again, mainstream hip hop is all about buying the big eco-unfriendly cars and wasting money on bad jewellery (speaking of which, there is a great line early on: "You got a sweat suit and you're dripping with diamonds/Tell me are you a rapper or a mom from Long Island?") so Northern State come across as positively radical.
While Can I Keep This Pen? is not a breath of fresh air in terms of an imaginative approach to rap, it is at least a gust of fresh air in terms of pop music that I can relate to. Musically Northern State have a lot more in common with normal indie rock bands with the majority of songs being driven by guitar riffs that Bernard Sumner would be proud of. This is probably the hook that has caught me as I find a lot of hip hop backing tracks tough to listen to. Whether pandering to nerdy white boys is a good or a bad thing is a moot point, all that really matters is that this is a fun and enjoyable album.
samples:
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![](/common/images/covers/krank113.gif)
This halfway house between posts sounds like a great idea on paper, the fleshing out of both instinct and chemistry with time and detail. The lack of fragility in much of Tom Carter's playing means the album is weighed down, the overdubs becoming a pair of concrete boots. The over-gesticulating guitar is amongst some of the most out-of-place playing in Charalambides career, the work on "Figs and Oranges" and the finale of "Cloudy Day" is almost Knopfler-esque in its obviousness. The song's almost ethereal double tracing gets close to freer Charalambides, but doesn't quite make it.
Almost every song here has a single element that traps the song in its infancy. In the case of "Do You See?," Christina's more or less stentorian delivery might soften as it multiplies but it is already too late. Much like MV & EE on their recent Gettin' Gone album, Charalambides have seemingly sought out the '60s-'70s spectrum as opposed to any of primitive and experimental forms. Struggling between form and freedom the album sounds like neither. It is possible that some of the original stripped versions of these tracks might have made a better Likeness, but that is just idle speculation; this album simply doesn't made the grade that the band set themselves over the years.
samples:
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![cover image](/brain/images/zaimph-la_nuit_electrique.jpg)
Across the four untitled tracks, Bassett sticks to building mini-dramas out of dark, heavily effected guitar work. The exception is the first track, which is instead reminiscent of an ancient music box playing after being under years of grime and decay. A gentle melody is obviously there, but it is covered in thick, viscousy textures of noise that are almost tangible. The track is more about the effects and distortion instead of the melody, or at least it was the element that drew the attention of these ears. The other tracks tend to lean more on the guitar end of things, such as the second track's guitar feedback drone that stretches from the track, off into the horizon and into infinity that, as the time clicks away, becomes darker and more frightening with each minute.
The third track is a bit harsher, swelling distorted guitar riffs that loom like the monolith riffing of drone poster boys Sunn O))), but from a distance far, far away. The riffs slowly crawl across the cold night air, slowly becoming more and more psychedelic into dissolving into pure madness. The progression from the gentle opening into increasing darkness and violence reaches its logical conclusion in the unfortunately too short final track of pure unabashed guitar noise. Rather than just being an exercise in pure feedback squeal, it instead has a distant, alien quality to it that makes it much more unique and compelling.
Zaimph's latest entry in Utech's Arc series continues both the series' focus on experimental artists who are not necessarily the most well known but are at the top of their game, as well as attention to detail in gorgeous, minimalist packaging that gives the series its uniform look. As the series is drawing to its end, it shows no sign of letting up in its brilliance, and Bassett's installment is testament to that.
samples:
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![cover image](/brain/images/airport_symphony.jpg)
The artists were all asked to integrate field recordings created by Room40 label head Lawrence English of the Brisbane International Airport. While these recordings need not be the sole content of the recordings, they were supposed to be a notable element of the final tracks. The participant list reads like a veritable who's who of current electronic composers: David Grubbs, Francisco Lopez, David Grubbs, Christian Fennesz, etc. They all use the various flight recordings to very different effects, all of which are consistent with their own styles.
As I indicated before, the music reflects the multiple emotions one can feel as an air traveler. Richard Chartier's contribution, "Retrieval_Path," taps in to the fascination that is flight: subtle treatments of engine noise reduced to high pitch digital tones, layered into rhythmic rings that are gentle, yet complex. Taylor Deupree's "Fear of Flying" takes the travel concept to a more literal end, the opening of crowd noises and people talking are just like the pre-flight conversations expected from a plane, distant flight information over a loud speaker as chiming digital tones enter the mix, and eventually dominate the mix, mimicking the mechanical roars and hums of a plane as it takes off into the sky.
Christian Fennesz also takes a more musical approach, shaping layered tracks of processed engine noise into vaguely musical structures, and adding in snippets of dialog to add to the proceedings. Marc Beherens is more cinematic with "3 Winged Zones," the sounds of engines powering up and wind pushed into overdrive to create thick walls of dense noise over phased tones, then stripped down to a more moderate level, with tones like distant warning beacons (or even crickets) in the distance.
As aforementioned, at times flight can be frightening, and Christopher Willits contribution "Plane" is the best example of that. Opening with very little more than the narration of flight attendants giving the preflight instructions over an intercom, the mundane elements of the preflight ritual before launching head first into a wall of noise and distortion that is shocking as an actual plane crash would be. Similarly, Toshiya Tsunoda's "Peak to Peak" is also a jarring experience. On the surface the name could represent travel from one mountain to another, but I assume it is more specifically leveled at the landscape of a digital representation for the track: Long gaps of near silence are met with harsh outbursts of noise, acting as the visual representation of said peaks.
Flights can be boring as well, and a few of the tracks do not feel as if they go too far beyond the source material to be as captivating as the more outstanding ones. The track by Burkhard Beins, "Tarmac Berlin Edit," treats the passing of planes overhead with so little that it does not feel as if there was anything really changed from the initial recordings. Jason Kahn's "Transit" has a similar feel, with only basic filtering/eq'ing of engine noise over simple, sustained digital tones. Nothing about the less fascinating tracks is bad; it is more a factor of being lined up with the more interesting ones being a detriment. And, hey, in travel there are some places that one is extremely excited to go, and others are just a destination.
Airport Symphony makes for an interesting work on both a conceptual, and an entertaining level. While by its very nature it is somewhat esoteric and difficult, the thematic link of concepts makes it one that more people can relate to from previous experience, and should use that background to check it out and give it a try, because it is a very well done and remarkable compilation.
samples:
- Richard Chartier - Retrieval_Path
- Marc Beherens - 3 Winged Zone
- Fennesz - Verona
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![](/brain/images/southsaturn-experience.jpg)
I am not a fan of live albums as a rule, as they are invariably crude documents completely divorced from all the elements that make gigs and events successful and rarely do they do the artists any justice; moreover they always leave me a tad disappointed. Noise albums, however, present something of a dichotomy, as by definition they are collisions of unstructured chaos and the element of the accidental plays an enormous part. So one could quite legitimately posit the idea that the vagaries and limitations of the recording process in a live situation become part of the performance as well, adding a further layer to the end result.
SSD assail from the get go. The usual tropes of the genre are there: unrelenting guitar distortion and feedback; electronic screechings, blips, growls and drones; along with shouts and screams batter the listener in an ear-bleeding aural assault. It is a one-sided sonic battle intended no doubt to crush the senses into submission, drilling into the skull and vacuum-cleaning the brains out through the resultant aperture, machine-like in its inhuman intensity and industrial brutality; no amount of pleading and begging will stay their course. The machines will go on until every last one of us is extinct and quite likely they will then turn on themselves and each other because there will be nothing else left for them. It is complete mayhem just for the joy of indulging in wanton mayhem and it seems that just like the ethos of fellow noise artists C.C.C.C. there is no attempt here at intellectualism, just an aggressive form of play, slaughtering with a smile on the face. Even so, there is a distinctly different approach to the aforementioned outfit, instead of a slow unfolding evolution (as displayed on C.C.C.C.'s latest, Chaos is the Cosmos) there is a fast-breeder reactor style of progression: everything being a chain-reaction from one moment to the next; one idea suggesting something else which turn suggests yet another idea in a mushroom cloud of unbridled creativity.
My only complaint is that while I can sense a small glimpse of the sheer exuberance and rawness of an SSD live performance from these recordings, the essential element of being there and experiencing it first-hand is missing, thereby slightly emasculating the power. There's no denying though that it didn't detract a great deal from any appreciation of what was on offer here and that the 'live' recording aspect DID add another crunchy dimension to it. As an introduction to the work of this band it more than suffices and it is obvious from these performances that each musician works well with and plays off each other brilliantly to produce a homogenized and whole aesthetic. However, I would still like to hear a 'studio'-based album to get a fuller flavor of the wall of noise assault that SSD promises on this debut album.This is not saying that this is a bad record, far from it, every second of it is enjoyable and only whets my appetite to go and see them should they ever make it to the shores of of the UK.
I hope that another album is in the works or at least being thought about, but there is no doubt that we will be hearing a lot more from them in the future and for my part that would be very welcome.
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