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CSR81TS (16th March 2007) Merzbow Vs Nordvargr | Partikel T-Shirt |
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Over `n out Justin / COLD SPRING |
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Mute
There is little emphasis on Chopper as the full soundtrack is already available so it can be safely glossed over. The three pieces from it included here provide enough of a glimpse into that soundtrack without extending to unnecessary repetition. Instead there is plenty of room to explore Harvey's far more unknown works. The opening piece "Two Guitars," taken from the film Lighting Fires, is a far cry from any of Harvey's work that I have heard before. As the title suggests, the music is made up of two guitars playing with each other, making a glorious, glistening and minimalist start to the album. The refrain is revisited later on "Three Guitars" (taken from the same film), the simple and stark beauty of these two pieces is astonishing. Not to say that the rest of the album is any less good but Harvey definitely had his "I'm writing a fucking great piece of music" hat on when he did Lighting Fires.
The album does dip around the middle with the material from Frank Hurley – The Man Who Made History. I think if I saw the documentary I might be of a different opinion as Hurley's photography is strong enough on its own without the need of a musical accompaniment. It is a daunting task to soundtrack them. It feels like Harvey is holding back as the pictures on the screen should speak thousands of word. However, without the imagery to with the music I find it hard to connect with what I am listening to. The brevity of these pieces also adds to difficulty in enjoying them on their own; they very easily fade into each other and into the background.
The album is well laid out. Most of the time music taken from the same film is all grouped together but in the case of Lighting Fires and Chopper the pieces are scattered throughout the disc. In the case of these last two, this arrangement stops the repetitive nature of film music getting in the way of the quality of the pieces. The other films do not tend to have as obviously repetitive themes or at the very least blend into each other better so it is not such a problem for them to be grouped together.
Overall, Motion Picture Music '94-'05 is a wonderful and varied album that covers some of Harvey's best work as a solo artist. I hope he continues to make such interesting music outside the Bad Seeds as I would love to hear more material like this. It is hard to find soundtrack music that exists just as powerfully without a film to go with it but Harvey's attempts can be appreciated on their own merit very easily.
samples:
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Mute
On the audio side of things, The Abattoir Blues Tour 2004 CDs are good. Performance wise these discs are not a patch on previous Bad Seeds live albums such as Live Seeds. However, many of the newer songs sound much better here than on their respective studio albums. "O Children" and "There She Goes My Beautiful World" are invigorating and powerful, each one is 10 times the song that appears on The Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus. The same cannot be said of "Stagger Lee" or "Deanna," the former now with bonus extra verses that were cute the first time I heard them but with repeated listens "Stagger Lee" proves to have lost most of its menace. I feel Cave could have picked a better setlist; there are many of his older songs that would work better with his gospel backing singers (although I must say, the version of "Lay Me Low" featured here is brilliant).
The two DVDs cover a show from the tour for The Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus and another from the Nocturama tour. The sound and video for both discs is excellent (although I cannot comment on the 5.1 mixes as I have only a lowly stereo set up). Some of the shots are beautiful, especially the ones focusing on Cave's silhouette on the wall; it looks like a giant shadow version of Cave is picking its way through the crowd. The rest of the band get a healthy amount of screen time although with so much happening on stage it feels like I am missing out on something no matter where the camera is pointing.
The first disc containing the newer show is unsurprisingly dominated by songs from Cave's last studio release with a handful of crowd pleasers thrown slapdash at the end. The same problems and highlights from the audio discs make their appearances here. Three songs not included on the CDs are included here, all from The Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus. At this point I must vent my frustration with Cave’s insistence on including “The Ship Song” at every possible opportunity. It is a great song but there are dozens of songs in his back catalogue as good if not better that never get an airing. Plus with this appearing on so many releases I am fatigued by it, what was once a beautiful and moving song is now a lighters in the air sing-a-long special.
The show from the Nocturama tour on the second DVD features a much more balanced set. I felt that Nocturama was a flawed record but that some of the songs were up there with Cave’s best. In particular "Wonderful Life" is a firm favorite of mine and the rendition here is superb. From here on, the band dips into different parts of Cave's back catalog and even includes a Birthday Party song, an electric version of “Wild World” where Warren Ellis replaces Roland S. Howard’s guitar with some sublimely overdriven violin. Unfortunately the set is far too short; I could have happily watched more from this concert.
The videos included on the second DVD fall into two categories. The first is the instantly forgettable videos of The Bad Seeds miming to the song on a soundstage or a regular stage (like "Nature Boy" and "Get Ready for Love"). The second is the funny Nick Cave video category. "Breathless" is like the makers of Bambi made a cartoon especially for Cave; the sight of the cutesy bluebirds flying around the band is hilarious. Equally humorous is the video for "Babe, I’m on Fire" (which was originally included as a bonus with Nocturama) where the band act out the parts of the dozens of characters listed in the song. Also included is a behind the scenes documentary of The Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus which could have been more informative and could have been edited better; the answers given by the interviewees seem to be hacked together.
For the money, this is a pretty nice release considering there is so much material included. Anyone who liked Cave’s recent work should love this and, even as someone disappointed with his recent work, I found this to be a highly enjoyable set that I will probably come back to a lot.
samples:
"Nature Boy" from the Brixton Academy show, 2004:
"Wild World" from the Hammersmith Apollo show, 2003:
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While I've been an unabashed fan of Dälek's work for years, even I found their last outing for Ipecac, Absence, to be something of an acquired taste. It's an impeccably produced onslaught of angry, dense noise that makes its point, but it's not a record that I have returned to a lot because listening to it tends to take a toll on my state of mind.
Dälek had been on a trajectory towards that violent, monolithic sound for some time, and Absence represented the logical conclusion to a path where every track got bigger and louder than the last. Starting with 2006's Ad Noiseam 12", Streets All Amped, Dälek seemed to be easing their way back out of that dense, noisy corner, and now I think they've found a new direction. Abandoned Language winds up saying all of the same things and hitting on all of their favorite themes, but with a subtlety that wasn't possible with everything cranked past 11.
Here, Dälek have gone back to the more straightforward sound of their early work like Negro Necro Nekros, building around old school beats and dead ahead rhymes. The Dälek production style is still evident in layer after layer of discordant drones and samples, but Abandoned Language is full of space, melody, and detail too. Stripping out some of distortion allows Dälek's voice to rise to the surface and turning the volume down from time to time gives the album a dynamic range that Absence lacked.
This might be Dälek's most accessible album to date, but it's no less angry or direct than anything else they've released. On the surface, this might seem like a band that is mellowing but in fact, I'd say just the opposite is true. Abandoned Language works in ways that a bombastic onslaught can't; it's a kin to the difference between fighting with fists and fighting with words and I think that Dälek is proving that the subtle, calculated fight can be more effective than brute force.
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The delicate piano performances transform into ominous war drums with time, the guitar sounds like the sick wheezing of some mutated monster rotting away in a subterranean prison, and whatever other manipulated instruments Nathan Michaels employs are dim, wrecked shadows of their former glory.
"Aphotic" is an adjective meaning "having no light." It can also describe any part of the ocean where light from the sun cannot reach. It's useful to think about the types of creatures that live in that part of the ocean for the purposes of imagining what portions of this record sound like. Though it begins with the seemingly innocent striking of rather unaltered piano melodies, the album quickly dissolves into a murky wash of thickly distorted guitar and other resonant, full sounds. The image of a leviathan swallowing up the ocean floor isn't an inappropriate one as the music seems to rumble by; the music doesn't simply emerge from the speakers and pass into the air, it exerts a physical presence on my ears and presses the warmth right out of the room.
Amid all the darkness, however, are some finer, brighter moments where Michaels' talent for powerful arrangements really stands out. The beginning of the record is fantastic, the music emerging from a hail of static and sizzling electronics. It sounds as if the album will be meditatively dismal for some time, the fuzz sounding like nothing more than a minor detail. A xylophone or some kind of hammered instrument makes a brief appearance, bringing to mind the work of Bohren und der Club of Gore. The careful introduction of added noise and the piano's slow decay flesh the album out perfectly, juxtaposing two extremes tastefully while holding two rather disparate elements of the album together. Michaels' moves quickly: in the first six minutes of the piece he has already developed a natural crescendo and plunged the album into a quiet, brooding place. By the time the guitar erupts, it feels natural, an explosion resulting from a natural increase in pressure.
That sense of a natural progression, which permeates the entire album, emphasizes just how subtle and powerful Michaels' is as a composer. By staying within the parameters of a few effective and complimentary instruments, he manages to craft an entire world of sound with viscerally effective moments. Half Makeshift is a name I'll be looking out for in the future and, with any luck, James Plotkin will be on board again to handle the mastering job: the clarity and immediacy of the sounds on Aphotic Leech stand out in my mind. Despite many of them being heavily processed, they sound full and vibrant on the record, adding an extra punch to an already impressive record.
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Like the first two releases, Tongues was recorded live at The Exchange with no overdubs or edits. The major difference is that between April 2005 and February 2006, Hebden and Reid have had considerable more time to play together, touring the world, finding out more about themselves as well as what works and doesn't for them and their audiences. Four Tet fans who may have found the first Exchange Session volumes hard to get into will find an easier time here but Tongues is by no means a Four Tet record.
With 10 songs, the record covers a lot of ground. While more vigorous workout/freakouts like the "People Be Happy" and "The Squid" are more of the norm with aggressive drumming and whimsical electronics, the album launches with the record's two jams with the most commercial potential. "The Sun Never Sets" and "Brain" each initially exploit an almost techno-pop riff, backed by steady but unoppressive drums until each musician pretty much lets loose. Retro-alien sounds mark the bumpy "Superheroes," while lulls like the echoing chimes on their interpretation of the traditional "Greensleeves," and the proverbial harp on "Our Time" allow for some breathing space. What the two have found together over the time playing together is a way to both go nuts and rope things back in without letting a song get way out of control or go on too long. "Left Handed, Left Minded" finishes off the album, opening with some hypnotic malleted drumming accompanied by vinyl surface noise, joined soon by the whirring of digital mixing, but here, things don't let loose and the album tactfully quells to a close instead of ending with some cut at the height of excitement.
While the Four Tet brand is more or less on an unofficial hiatus, it would be great to hear these jazz records between Hebden and Reid destructed and reconstructed by people like Jason Forrest, Kid 606 or others who recycle recorded music only to pull some completely new pop tunes out the other end. Although Tongues is still pretty damn satisfying on its own as is.
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Live during War Crimes (Release the Bats)The Yellow Swans are one of those bands, like Sunburned Hand of the Man and Wolf Eyes, that ALWAYS leaves the tape recorder on, and, for better or worse, release most of it. A lot of this comes out on short-run CDRs on their Jyrk label. Live During War Crimes 1 and 2 are 'best of' compilations of some of those live recordings from their intense touring. Live During War Crimes 1, recorded during May and June of 2004, shows the more rhythmic, proto-industrial side of the band. Primal and grim, the sound of this disc hides the peace-loving, harmonious spiritual unity (hippy) ethos of the band. From the first track on, there's a fist-in-the-air thud and clamor running down the back bone of this album’s sound. Beats made from skittery, broken electronics, the most guitar riffage I’ve heard on any of their recordings, and a seamless flow from one track into the next gives these 45 minutes a hypnotic density that took a couple listens, but totally won me over.
Live during War Crimes #2 (Release the Bats)
Live During War Crimes #2, recorded in January and February of 2006, delves more into the Yellow Swans’ psychedelic-drone sound. The recordings are pretty lo-fi, too. You can hear in the sound the resonance of the speakers and the over modulation of the microphone recording. Especially on the second track, as the drones and feedback swell, you can feel the electricity of the room they’re playing in. Through this mud arises a very clean, or at least unprocessed, guitar, plucked and strummed incidentally, either dancing with or fighting against the walls of noise building beside it, finally being overtaken and drowned out, as the recording gets skuzzier and grimier. Even at low volumes, this track is deafening. The third and fourth tracks fall a little flat compared to the opening two, but the closer returns to the opening’s momentum, but with a much tighter hold on the tension between the wall of noise and the improvised guitar. It lumbers along, ominous and foreboding, not so much the violent ballet of the earlier tracks, but more a sober denouement to the album, a dark shadow creeping from an alley way.
Psychic secession (Load)
Yellow Swans' debut on Load is the paramount studio album. At first, the opener, "True Union," clocking in just over 20 minutes, seemed a little stale, but after a couple listens unveiled power and a deft knack for building tension that I didn't pick up on until I listened to LDW#2 alongside it. A lot of the depth of the recording didn't even show up until I put on my headphones. Co-produced by Gerritt (Or Misanthropic Agenda fame), his intense digital processing can be heard added to Yellow Swans' own wall of feedback and effect loops. Sparse, raspy, almost black metal screams bleed into the mix as high-end oscillations swirl and howl. This track sets a good tone for the album: dark, very evil, and strong enough to make the hair on the back of the neck stand on end.
As "True Union" fades away, the title track steps in, with an eery vocal intro reminiscent of the late John Balance, soon overtaken by more feedback and squall, but rhythmic this time—not just an intense anti-climatic build. Hard pulses are set off, driving more raspy screams and oscillating feedback. From there on, Psychic Secession stays more rhythmic than the two Live During War Crimes CDs, and seems very intentional, even composed. The album definitely climaxes with I Woke Up, starting off with harsh glitch and more heavily processed screams fighting though barbed-wire-like drum machines, finally giving way to a foot stomp and hand clap rhythm track backed by a throbbing bass line. I Woke Up moves from heavy static to a rousing tribal-industrial dance, all the while Yellow Swans are balancing their sense of tension in their live feedback-drone and the multi-track layering of the studio.
I don't think there could be a better result from this band in the studio. Yellow Swans moved from being another run of the mill drone/feedback/hippy noise group to showing a definite talent for sound work and more than capable of creating important studio works.
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![]() | Betty Davis LITA 026 CD UPC: 826853002622 Originally released 1973 | ![]() | They Say I'm Different LITA 027 CD UPC: 826853002721 Originally released 1974 |
1. If I’m In Luck I Might Get Picked Up 2. Walkin Up The Road 3. Anti Love Song 4. Your Man My Man 5. Ooh Yeah 6. Steppin In Her I. Miller Shoes 7. Game Is My Middle Name 8. In The Meantime PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED BONUS TRACKS (1974) 9. Come Take Me 10. You Won’t See Me In The Morning 11. I Will Take That Ride | 1. Shoo-B-Doop and Cop Him 2. He Was A Big Freak 3 Your Mama Wants Ya Back 4. Don’t Call Her No Tramp 5. Git In There 6. They Say I’m Different 7. 70’s Blues 8. Special People PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED BONUS TRACKS (1973) Record Plant Rough Mixes 9. He Was A Big Freak 10. Don’t Call Her No Tramp 11. Git In There 12. 70’s Blues |
If Betty were singing today she would be something like Madonna, something like Prince only as a woman. --MILES DAVIS | She introduced Miles to Hendrix's music and got him interested in the hardcore rock stuff. --HERBIE HANCOCK | |
Betty was a G for real. --ICE CUBE | When I first saw her album cover, I fell in love. --RICK JAMES | |
Warning: She is pure uncut funk way ahead of her time. --PRINCE PAUL (De La Soul, Handsome Boy Modeling School) | She was the first Madonna, but Madonna is more like Marie Osmond compared to Betty Davis. Betty Davis was a real ferocious Black Panther woman. You couldn't tame Betty Davis. --SANTANA |
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HER STORY: One can hardly imagine the genre-busting, culture-crossing musical magic of Outkast, Prince, Erykah Badu, Rick James, The Roots, or even the early Red Hot Chili Peppers without the influence of R&B pioneer Betty Davis. Her style of raw and revelatory punk-funk defies any notions that women can't be visionaries in the worlds of rock and pop. In recent years, rappers from Ice Cube to Talib Kweli to Ludacris have rhymed over her intensely strong but sensual music. There is one testimonial about Betty Davis that is universal: she was a woman ahead of her time. In our contemporary moment, this may not be as self-evident as it was thirty years ago - we live in an age that's been profoundly changed by flamboyant flaunting of female sexuality: from Parlet to Madonna, Lil Kim to Kelis. Yet, back in 1973 when Betty Davis first showed up in her silver go-go boots, dazzling smile and towering Afro, who could you possibly have compared her to? Marva Whitney had the voice but not the independence. Labelle wouldn't get sexy with their "Lady Marmalade" for another year while Millie Jackson wasn't Feelin' Bitchy until 1977. Even Tina Turner, the most obvious predecessor to Betty's fierce style wasn't completely out of Ike's shadow until later in the decade. Ms. Davis's unique story, still sadly mostly unknown, is unlike any other in popular music. Betty wrote the song "Uptown" for the Chambers Brothers before marrying Miles Davis in the late '60s, influencing him with psychedelic rock, and introducing him to Jimi Hendrix -- personally inspiring the classic album 'Bitches Brew.' | ![]() photo courtesy of Baron Wolman |
But her songwriting ability was way ahead of its time as well. Betty not only wrote every song she ever recorded and produced every album after her first, but the young woman penned the tunes that got The Commodores signed to Motown. The Detroit label soon came calling, pitching a Motown songwriting deal, which Betty turned down. Motown wanted to own everything. Heading to the UK, Marc Bolan of T. Rex urged the creative dynamo to start writing for herself. A common thread throughout Betty's career would be her unbending Do-It-Yourself ethic, which made her quickly turn down anyone who didn't fit with the vision. She would eventually say no to Eric Clapton as her album producer, seeing him as too banal. In 1973, Davis would finally kick off her cosmic career with an amazingly progressive hard funk and sweet soul self-titled debut. Davis showcased her fiercely unique talent and features such gems as "If I'm In Luck I Might Get Picked Up" and "Game Is My Middle Name." The album Betty Davis was recorded with Sly & The Family Stone's rhythm section, sharply produced by Sly Stone drummer Greg Errico, and featured backing vocals from Sylvester and the Pointer Sisters. Her 1974 sophomore album They Say I'm Different features a worthy-of-framing futuristic cover challenging David Bowie's science fiction funk with real rocking soul-fire, kicked off with the savagely sexual "Shoo-B-Doop and Cop Him" (later sampled by Ice Cube). Her follow up is full of classic cuts like "Don't Call Her No Tramp" and the hilarious, hard, deep funk of "He Was A Big Freak." Tragically, these days Betty Davis is dead broke, living in the Pittsburgh ghetto. For the first time, her critically adored first two albums are being lovingly re-mastered from the original master tapes by Light In The Attic Records to sound as ferocious and revolutionary as they did when they first sprung on an unsuspecting world in the early '70s. These reissues mark the first time that Betty will receive proper royalties for her music on CD. In addition to the restoration of the incredible original cover art, the compelling and heartbreaking liner notes written by author and respected soul music scholar Oliver Wang (O-Dub/Soul Sides) include her second interview in many decades, making these essential reissues for any soul, progressive punk, or funk-rock collection. |
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Light In The Attic Records P.O. Box 31970 Seattle, WA 98103 p (206) 706-6715 http://www.lightintheattic.net |
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If doom metal had a slightly awkward sibling who wrote poetry, this would be it. Nadja's release on Archive consists of a single 62 minute track that showcases their talent for creating fuzzed out ambient soundscapes infused with sludge guitar noise. The Canadian duo's work recalls Jesu's death shoegaze mixed with Sunn O)))'s monolithic riffing, but they still manage to retain an identity all their own.
The overall formula is pretty basic: fuzzed out drone guitar, subtle bass, a distant metronomic drum machine, and ambient synth-like sounds. With only guitar and bass credited, we could simply be hearing heavily processed guitar work, but either way, the rhythm's are there. Structurally the disc varies tempos and densities throughout, but all the while retains a lush, floating feel.
On the whole the disc remains more calm and mellow. The playing swells to a Cop/Young God-era Swans level during the first half of the album and then eases into more riff-oriented parts following. Even the guitar noise/feedback section towards the last 15 minutes of the album is buried low in the mix; it expands quietly beneath layers of ambient guitar and bass.
Thaumogenesis is an enjoyable work. My biggest gripe would be that a bit of variation in textures would go a long way in fleshing the album out. The guitar and drum machine sounds stay relatively unchanged throughout the entire track, making it less of an "all the time" listen than it is an "in the mood" one. A wider variety of guitar effects and drum machine sounds over the span of this hour would have made for an even more compelling listen than it already is.
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Comprised of four lengthy tracks, the album explodes with a start: "The Man from Giacobinid Meteor Comet." Kawabata Makoto's guitar quickly becomes a tangle of screams, a frenzied surge that drags the band along with it. The rhythm section is ferocious. Bassist Tsuyama Atsushi frequently ventures out to the stratosphere, but he also knows when to hold back or to provide a vaguely melodic foundation. Likewise, the amount of energy drummer Shimura Koji dedicates to his performance is a lesson in endurance. Divided into three movements, this track eventually cools down and then glides to a drone landing, alighting the listener breathlessly upon calmer ground.
Kitagawa's voice makes its first appearance on "Five Dimensional Nightmare," floating over a bouzouki arrangement that sounds like singing glass. This one is divided into three sections like the previous track, but starts airy and then goes into a drone as Tsuyama briefly takes over the vocals. From here, strings are tortured like fingernails on a blackboard before a guitar and Higashi Hiroshi’s water drop electronics restore balance.
As much as I loved the two previous tracks, the band forges ahead into something different on "Love Electrique." Kitagawa's presence is most felt on this track. Her voice streaks across the mix as blistering guitars and freaky electronics blast all over the place. Over the course of 20 minutes, it hits several different moods and textures on a truly transcendent journey.
Of the four tracks, only the live staple "Pink Lady Lemonade (May I Drink You Once Again?)" may seem a little redundant. Kitagawa, however, breathes new life into this standard by bringing her vocals to the fore over the entire track, as if restoring an element that previously had been missing. It's hard to call it a definitive version because so many other excellent versions already exist, but it is a great one in its own right. For fans who may be weary of this song after all of its appearances over the years, it is easy enough to stop the disc after gorging on the first hour of music, and it is still a welcome dessert if the mood should strike.
Acid Mothers Temple always manages to find a breath of fresh air at the most opportune times, and this is no exception. While remaining a tight unit, bringing Kitagawa into the fold adds another dimension to their chaotic sprawl without having to sacrifice any of their strengths on this incendiary album.
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I cannot make heads or tails of Stefan Betke anymore. Completely removed from the original color-coded trilogy that helped define the digi-dub sound, his latest indistinct album of moody experimental electronica lacks the spark of his past classics, landing the artist among a glut of current producers operating in the same post-IDM doldrums.
I don't consider it unfair to hold Pole's current output to the standard set by his breathtaking beginnings released on a PIAS sub-label nearly a decade ago and then subsequently with Matador. To do otherwise would be senseless, especially since Betke has opted to maintain his most famous moniker despite his outright abandonment of the crackling echo chamber and haunting tones prepared on 1, 2, and 3. This disappointing decision is certainly within his rights, and if an artist's legacy is to be ruined then the most worthy entity to do so should be the artist himself.
While not necessarily a bad album, the easily forgettable Steingarten is hardly going to lift Pole out of the creative mire he landed himself in with his banal second trio of releases for Mute. While I have no confirmation that Pole was explicitly dropped from that label, I have my suspicions, especially considering this new full-length is self-released on ~scape, an imprint diminishing in relevance much like the artist who founded it. If Mute had indeed been given a crack at Betke's latest, I highly doubt that tepid tracks like "Schöner Land" or "Jungs" made the record a particularly desirable acquisition. "Düsseldorf" at least tries to generate some excitement with its clubby 4/4 beat offering a little hope, though its comparatively short length shows an artist out-of-touch with the dancefloor. Truth be told, Pole's strengths never were on in that particular arena, which in turn makes this misguided attempt all the more dismaying. Still, Steingarten strangely fails to capitalize on his previously demonstrated assets in crafting midtempo and downtempo productions, though "Sylvenstein" comes the closest out of the nine. Directionless, Betke evidently lacks a clear vision for this project, giving his listeners little reason to continue following this lost leader on his path to certain obscurity and inconsequence.
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