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Rejecting the somewhat malleable rules of techno while simultaneously embracing its aesthetics, Dear makes a successful and, yes, natural shift from producer to songwriter with these 13 quirky compositions. Though arguably the most appropriate term for Asa Breed, synthpop too often implies plasticity: an inherent lack of substance or musical credibility. Countless new wave artists are derided by those who, given the opportunity, would have gleefully adored them during their heyday, much in the same way that traditional musicians are wont to defensively dismiss electronic musicians. While Dear could hardly be charged with emulating The Human League or Heaven 17, many of these songs owe a great deal to their moment in pop music history.
Yet, Dear rises above the teeming glut of accessible electronica noodlers by espousing eclecticism and a respect for what catches the ear. "Midnight Lovers" features impassioned singing over acoustic guitar strums and a plodding bare bones beat, while, conversely, opener "Fleece On Brain" blossoms with interweaving classic and progressive melodies and an unnaturally deep, near spoken vocal familiar to fans of the aforementioned releases. Those who have caught Dear's delightful DJ sets over the years will enjoy peppy danceable cuts like "Neighborhoods" and the Prince-like electrofunk of "Shy". "Death To Feelers" takes a simple plonked Artificial Intelligence period bell loop, lays it over some broken percussion, and creates something equally exotic and familiar.
Previously released on 10" vinyl, "Deserter" exudes coruscating clarity, the applied and amplified fusion of post-punk single and post-IDM anthem. While not quite as brooding as today's indie darlings, Dear's passive yet catchy delivery seems sincere seeping through the dissonant atmospheres, reverberating bleeps, and Stephen Morris-inspired drums. Without question, Asa Breed showcases an exceptional artist at a remarkable point in his career. Whether it is the springboard for greater success or the brink of catastrophe remains unknown.
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Creager's songs are all based on the world's recent troubled history but transposing the events back to 1816, tying them in with a story of a Floridian queen who goes to war in a blimp. It is not the world’s greatest plot but it at least leads to some nice songs. "1816, The Year without a Summer" is a grand introduction to the album and some clunky lyrics aside, heralds a return to form for Rasputina. The album's strength and at times, also its weakness, is Creager's acting via singing. For most of the album it works well. "Child Soldier Rebellion" takes on the stories of Africa's child militia and adds in bizarre imagery of airships. Instead of cheapening the harrowing images of child soldiers, it reinforces the horror of the situation. Unfortunately Creager sometimes has too hard tried to work the concept into a song and it all goes a little Andrew Lloyd Webber such as on (the thankfully short) "Old Yellowcake Breaking News."
Although the cello is still the primary instrument employed by the group, Rasputina are moving further and further away from the Victorian chamber group that they started as. Mixing more styles and influences with each album has led to mixed results. Each of their most recent albums (and Oh Perilous World is no exception) has been patchy: cracks appearing especially where there is a more straightforward rock approach to the sound. One particular peeve I have with the music here is Jonathan TeBeest's metronomic drumming. While he provides a robust rhythmical base, he lacks expression. Luckily cellos are naturally very expressive and they counteract his somewhat clinical drumming.
Overall, Oh Perilous World is not the best album released by Rasputina but it is not terrible by any means. I accept there are only so many spooky goth albums you can do before imploding but I wonder how much steam there is left in Rasputina at this point in their career. Granted, a lot of the songs included here are fairly strong compared to those on their last album, Frustration Plantation, but the cracks that have appeared in the last few years have not been filled. The group flounders too often on these last couple of albums to make me have faith in them for much longer.
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Although they share an occasional stylistic signpost with Dungen, Life On Earth! is its own creature. The group's most Dungen-sounding track is the opener, which surprised me considering it's called "Life on Earth." I was taken aback by the opening flute solo, but as it builds in intensity and the anticipation grows, the rush of instruments that follows in its wake is that much more of a balm. The next song, "Sell Your Soul to Me," convinced me to do just that. Amazing harmonies, a relaxing tempo, and Eastern drones oscillating in the background combined for blissful effect, further aided by the brief but fiery freak-out that erupts in the middle.
Another big difference from Dungen is that Gustavsson sings in English. He has great control over his voice and is able to sing convincingly over a loud band or lead an acoustic song with equal captivation. Additionally, the treatment of vocals on this album respects and utilizes the voice as an instrument in a way that a lot of rock music doesn't anymore. A good example of this is "City on the Sea," with its tender main vocal overtaken by an increasing number of voices weaving through the mix like spirits.
Sometimes the focus can shift within a song quite drastically. "Life Turns Fast" begins as a blistering rocker that's eventually smothered by wordless singing. From here, the song collapses into a percussive maelstrom, which is then further deconstructed by effects. Even the mellow songs aren't lacking for complexity. While the harmonies at the beginning and end of "You Are There" may reveal the band's unabashed admiration for the Beatles' "Sun King," the starkly epic excursion in its middle indicates a celestial body altogether alien. And on the otherwise light and fragile "Barefoot on Tiptoe," quiet microtonal violins add subtle abrasion to lend the track a textural integrity found lacking in some of the dopier examples of optimistic music in recent history.
The instruments and arrangements are constantly evolving all over this album, yet they're blended with such a master touch that the shifts feel natural rather than jarring, even when the group interjects noisy electronic instruments. The production detail makes these gorgeous songs something special. The album is a fun ride the whole way through: a harmless but satisfying way to derange the senses.
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Depending on who you ask, Montreal's Scott Monteith represents either the tail end of ~scape's mind-altering first wave or the hopeful beginning of its much less memorable second. Stefan Betke's label first hit the scene when dub techno rode a feverish high, producing near-classic releases from artists like Kit Clayton and Jan Jelinek, but it later floundered with motley hit-or-miss offerings that departed, at times dramatically, from its archetypal style. Deadbeat, however, maintained a certain consistency, long after most of his labelmates grew weary of such post-Jamaican trappings. Grounded in dub's naturally spacious environs, Journeyman's Annual takes his sound to exciting places both old and new.
Opener "Lost Luggage" commences with swirling atmospheres, echoing snares, and sparse instrumentation that seems just a few inches from dubstep, until a gorgeous lead melody appears that leaves little doubt that Monteith has been listening to artists like Kode9 and Loefah. Similarly, deep and groovy "Melbourne Round Midnight" eases through with a percussive one-drop plonk and evolving currents of intricate sound design. While an entire album in this chilled digi-dub vein would undoubtedly be well received, the rest of the disc shows the artist instead making progressive strides with dancehall. He recruits Jah Cutta from his native Canada for the rowdy and raunchy "Gimme A Little Slack," a single-worthy cut that would sound killer over a proper soundsystem. With the sound clash in mind, Monteith versions the track for "Gimme A Little Dub," fleshing out the original riddim a bit with some signature bleeps and glitchy clicks. Recalling Adrian Sherwood's excellent 2006 solo album, "Where Has My Love Gone" and "Turbulence" build basic yet infectious techno structures around its island rhythm, generating a pleasant hybrid sound.
Hardly a purist, Monteith eagerly and methodically blends styles without hesitation. "Refund Me" has the grimey Bubbz spitting verses a over a crunchy Jamaican loop of overcooked electronics while Moral Undulations contributes his anti-capitalist spoken word poetry to the minimal yet firm "Deep In Country." The album finishes strong with a bonus remix of the ever-eclectic Saul Williams' "Black Stacey," remodeling the opinionated rapper's confessional original into an offbeat yet oddly tenacious composition and verifying the cogency of Deadbeat as a viable and valuable producer.
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Part-Primitv manages to up where the previous material left off, which is no small feat given the long break the band had. S25 aren’t afraid to stick with what worked for them in the past, but do not come across as being stuck in history or unwilling to try new things. The angular, yet catchy, post punk is here ("Gene," "Cry") as are electronic based tracks ("Roma," "Power Base"). Some of the nostalgia isn't quite as welcome, however. “Dream” (one of two tracks featuring vocals from late S25 member Jenny Cassidy) is almost TOO deeply rooted in its techno pulse beat and club synthesizers, could be about any nameless late '80s/early '90s techno pop band. It's a good track, but it does sort of stick out as a time capsule of an age many would like to forget.
Other tracks take the vintage trappings and recontextualize them into a completely different beast, such as the New Edition R&B synths and hip-hop drum machines that are the building blocks to the punk pop of "Better Make Your Mind Up." Some parallels can also be drawn to early contemporaries The Fall, specifically the garage drums and crunchy bass-centric tracks like "Can't Let Go" and "Nick." Sometimes the influences are almost disturbingly blatant, like the bass line lifted explicitly from Joy Division's "Transmission" for "Gene" (though in this case meshed with a rockabilly guitar riff that makes us dance differently than "to the radio"). The more conventional pop tracks, like the analog synths and acid house tinges of "Poppy Fields" show what New Order should have done after Technique—all day-glow neon and Ibiza beach parties—while the electronic strings, acoustic guitar, and '60’s pop vocals of "She's So Pretty" are pure foot tapping saccharine.
Maybe due to the fact that the core members remained the same from the early days of the band, Section 25 were able to rise above the unenviable task of writing, recording and releasing material after 21 years apart. Part-Primitiv is hopefully not just a reunion album, but the first installment of a rejuvenated career.
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The compilation demonstrates the unique styles of the four artists: even though they all utilized the same five minutes of source material ("Ausgangsmaterial," the final track on the disc), each shaped it into their own different and unique work, making sure that none sound like the other. Stefan Funck's four short pieces differ vastly from one to another, from the minimal slow burn power electronics of "Version Paris-Dakar" (like Whitehouse's "Told" without the misogynist vocals) to what could be initially a cover of Throbbing Gristle's "IBM" done with electric guitar feedback ("Version Vier Hauser"). Buttner's massive contribution, the 14 minute "Heiz" is swathed in reverb and the processed sounds of water dripping, which builds in layers over time, but still retains a distant, subtle tenor that could be a field recording of alien life somewhere deep in the cosmos.
Nicolai Stephan's "Ziehung" is not nearly as complex as the others, based around the sound of a stuttering tape and reversed delays. It's interesting but feels somewhat amateurish compared to the other tracks, and even more so considering it follows avant garde legend Asmus Tietchens' brilliant contribution, "Keine Warme," which is three minutes of rhythmic rattling and noise processed into melody before dropping off into a wind chamber, then coming back in a similarly musical, but with an entirely different sonic pallet for seven more minutes. For this type of music's complexity and obliqueness, Tietchens' piece is extremely accessible and listenable.
As aforementioned, the source material is included as an appendix on the disc, and while we can safely assume it is not something that will make it into heavy rotation, it is good to hear what exactly was used as the proverbial seed for this recording. It is exactly what would be expected: the high pitched whistle of a messed up radiator and the deep gurgling and dripping of water being passed through it.
To be perfectly clear, this is chin stroking music, not something to put on while cleaning the house or entertaining guests. With that in mind, however, it does make for an interesting listen if the proper attention can be paid. It makes for a fascinating example of how many variations can be placed on a simple theme, and just how unique artists of a similar ilk can be.
samples:
- Stefan Funck - Version Paris-Dakar
- Gregory Buttner - Heiz
- Asmus Tietchens - Keine Warme
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Having found fame and respect without prostrating himself for the majors, Armstrong's credentialed catalog stretches collectively over two decades with the influential ska punks Operation Ivy, the consistently credible Rancid, and the unexpectedly plausible Transplants. Released on his own Hellcat Records, a vanity imprint of enduring punk indie Epitaph, A Poet's Life takes its cues from ska and rocksteady legends such as Prince Buster and Toots and the Maytals. Featuring labelmates The Aggrolites as his backing band, Armstrong abandons the studio sheen of his Transplants "supergroup" for these ten stripped down tracks. An genuine passion for reggae music can be easily identified on such songs as the uptempo skankworthy single "Into Action" and the dubbed out instrumental "Cold Blooded." Yet, diluted by Armstrong's distinctly grizzled voice and casual streetwise crassness, the album yields an Americanized, Californicated translation of the Caribbean spirit, evident on the cautionary yet reverential "Oh No". Finding joy amid the hardship, a common lyrical device for reggae vocalists, this paean to Los Angeles couldn't have a more authentic voice if penned by anyone else.
Originally slated for gratis digital release (which allegedly is still planned), A Poet's Life was given a chance as a CD/DVD package for those who wanted physical copies. If the 40-year old Armstrong, longtime contributor to indie music, and Hellcat stick to this admirable promise, it will mean a great deal to those of us who value a thriving independent scene that understands, respects, and caters to the listener as opposed to the shareholder.
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On October 9, 2007 Robert Wyatt is to release his new album and first for Domino.
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Australian guitarist Tim Catlin and American percussionist Jon Mueller's approach to their instruments is based on their shared interest in the vibration of material and the changes in sound that result in modifying those vibrations. Over a year in the making, Plates and Wires features a series of different situations involving guitars, gongs, snare drums, and bass drum, and their resonant effect upon one another. Plates and Wires was mastered by James Plotkin (Khanate/Phantomsmasher/Khlyst) and is released in an edition of 300 in a 10x10" package featuring artwork from painter Thomas Kovacich. Kovacich's practice of dragging paint with devices over large disused planks of furniture creates a visual cohesion with the layers of milky and gritty sounds heard within the recording.
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Considering the gorgeous gatefold sleeve that is heavily inspired by the album art of Yes and the ominous King Crimson-esque intro to “Walrus,” it was disappointing that Boris’ take on The Beatles was not a progged out supernova. Even with Merzbow on board to add odd sounds like seagulls and his usual electronic flatulence, this version of “I am the Walrus” kept very close to the original. It ends up sounding like the band were just passing the time at rehearsal rather than reworking a classic. On the opposite side, “Groon” is equally disappointing. Atsuo’s drumming could form the foundations of a traditional Boris epic but Merzbow and the rest of the band do not build on Atsuo’s beats, instead they add a layer of noise that sounds like it was added as an afterthought. At the end of the day, there are so discs released regularly by both Merzbow and Boris that many of them are bound to be filler and Walrus/Groon is one such record.
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