- Matthew Amundsen
- Albums and Singles
The best part of this disc is the meticulous editing and excellent sound quality. The problem is that there doesn't seem to be much development or progress over the course of these 45 minutes. One could easily start the track at any point and not miss a thing. As varied as some of the film sounds are, after a while they become an endless pastiche of the same juxtaposed sounds separated by Lopez's usual weighted silences. It's a pattern that Lopez has used quite a bit, and its familiarity drains it of its unpredictability by now.
There are some good parts, like the section about 25 minutes into it with large chunks of clunky sounds battling back and forth, or the thunderous roars at the 37-minute mark, but these aren't quite enough to save it from fading into the background. Other than the gorgeous sound quality and the vigorous editing, the disc is not far from a spooky sounds demonstration LP found in the cheap bin at the record store. If anything, this illustrates the symbiotic relationship between sound effects and image, and how deeply they rely on each other for maximum impact.
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On his debut, Jeffrey Bützer plays piano, toy piano, electric piano, accordion, toy accordion, melodica, glockenspiel, reed organ, banjo, harmonica, guitars, bass, autoharp, ocarina, tongue drum, drums & percussion. Regardless of whether or not we need a Jeffrey Bützer action figure to play those toy instruments, the result is most definitely an album, since it bears repeated listening from start to finish, thanks to a vigorous breadth and subtle development. The odd title track has an almost ska-like opening rhythm. The wheezing melancholy of "Wooden Giraffe" might be an out-take from The Draughtsman's Contract; while there is much darker avant-expressionism on "Her Body is a Swamp." The record carries an endemic quasi-gamelan pulse and has a physicality that sporadically twitches like the leg of a dreamer. Bützer knows the value of repetitive phrases but is brave enough to allow a surprising element of decay and breakdown to emerge, which, of course, in hindsight seems entirely natural. Either that, or he ran out of ideas.
Who is she and what did she get in exchange for her leg? Someone's hand upon it? A brief or lasting freedom? Regret? Does the title (as if Hans Christian Andersen's little mermaid in reverse) refer to the trading of some physical mobility to gain the means by which to articulate expression? Was it sacrifice, or gain? A life spared? Season tickets to Old Trafford? Is the leg of flesh or wood? We can enjoy this record and keep the mystery of speculation.
"Tarred and Feathered" sounds less like an experience of violent retribution than a pleasant afternoon spent by the river, having tea and cakes with the vicar's daughters.The pretty sounds on "Carbonated Sewing Machine" don't appear to be derived from a device for stitching. Actually, those which embroider "Valse 1" seem more imitative of such parlor machinery; as if figures in a tapestry wandered over to the next scene for a relaxing interlude. The track "Broken Blunderbuss, One Hundred and Sixty Three Black Bubbles" has the feeling of an epic journey begun, a sense which, apart from a see-sawing lull on "Part 2", is more-or-less maintained throughout the 6 parts that follow. A reference to El Topo is unavoidable.
On the final track, "Her Body is a Swamp," Bützer shows a willingness to dissolve compositional structure and also to incorporate a raw, noisier dynamic. Images of a motorcycle traversing sand dunes came to my mind, trying to avoid getting stuck; along with a vague sense of memory clinging to skin. It would be a stretch to wonder whether or not Jeffrey Bützer will follow a more minimalist path forged by such luminaries as Terry Riley, maybe choose to add words and singing to his work, perhaps veer whole-heartedly into a 21st Century folk dance music, or (more likely) plot another course entirely. Even if it is ignored or forgotten, She Traded Her Leg has enough pure listening pleasure and signposts for future projects that whichever way Bützer goes next, lies intrigue and, most probably, reward.
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The group's discipline and dedication is evident in the way they build their tracks out of the fewest notes and textures for the fullest possible effect. Restraint seems to be a big factor in these compositions as sometimes only a stretched note or two vie for attention. Even when more sounds are introduced, they're often so subdued that they’re not immediately noticeable. Yet the results are rarely boring because their approach varies quite a bit, whether playing a series of chimes, a minor melody, or beats.
As much as I like the songs on their own, they're even better against the backdrop of Jenise Treuting's short films on the DVD that accompanies the album. The films themselves are static documentaries depicting street scenes from Manhattan and Tokyo, often with themes of transportation. The music lends scenes of the Manhattan skyline, a subway ride, a train platform, or the cavity between apartment buildings a quiet calm that cannot be obtained in reality, which in turn reinforces the music’s pensive qualities. Nothing much happens per se, but the music completes the images somehow, giving both an authority they might otherwise lack on their own.
This is a great package, and it's hard for me to imagine the music or the films existing independently of each other. They're perfectly complementary and together they accomplish the delicate task of both soothing and energizing simultaneously. It's a sublimely rewarding experience.
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- Matthew Amundsen
- Albums and Singles
Drawing from a full textural palette, the album is imbued with an introspective calm without any unexpected intrusions. Even the restrained feedback on "An Abandoned Robot" doesn't upset the balance created thus far. One of the more unexpected sections is the serenely beautiful ending of "Bobble Hats in Summer" which makes me ache for that season. Contrasting this nicely is the extreme quiet of "Digital Winter," with its subdued static and chilly stream evoking a harsh climate.
With many mornings of frost clinging to the windows in recent memory, the first half of the album's title is particularly apt and makes winter that much more bearable. Conversely, the album's warmer sections make me anxious to test the title's second half as soon as possible. Although overall I slightly prefer Xela's newer material, this debut is nearly flawless and has all the qualities I enjoy from his recent work.
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- Scott Mckeating
- Albums and Singles
This is spliced and stuck together effort from several Hair Police modes of assault and mayhem, and it's better than 95% of the live noise show documentary output. Could any real gig be as fragmentary, heavy and unruly?
This leaves Redrot, even with their very capable violent industrial breakdown style, sounding pristine in comparison. Their three live songs still sound like they were made in a wind tunnel, beats hammered on rusty steel. There are splurges of sound starving the compositions as everything that comes out of the PA is spotted with dried blood. Barked vocals burst out from the music like some old school Prurient release, black venom dripping on the stage.
The real tape mangled intro (and outro) of the Hair Police side gives hints that this is an aggressive salvage job, and not just another show. Smashed pitches, defiant loner drums and feedback overlap fuse into a clawing at the speakers, like rats against bars being slowly roasted. These shows sound a lot less lonely and reflective/ugly than the majority of their studio work. The Aryan Asshole label claims that there could even be some Graveyards action rammed in there too; the section of reed abuse would certain support this theory. The Hair Police side falls apart in uncoupling tape, leaving a brief tagged on piece of acoustic rock. The only lyrics that make it out before the rough edit are ‘and it was a dark night in the city’. An ominous ending for a piece that sounds like some spilled soundtrack of a garden of burnt hives, the music flitting between styles in a ragged panic.
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- Scott Mckeating
- Sound Bytes
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artist: Lichens
title: Omns
catalog #: krank106
formats available: CD+DVD
CD UPC Code: 7 96441 81062 8
Release Date: May 7, 2007
Content: The second long player from Lichens, like his first, the largely improvised The Psychic Nature of Being, is an ascent to a higher plane. Rob Lowe's sound recordings are of a distinctly personal nature, works turned inward as much as they are projected outward.
This new album was conceived with the idea of it being a continuation of the first, while using slightly different techniques in recording and editing; from multitracking individual passes, and pulling single tracks in and out of the mix ("vevor of agassou" "faeries"), to opening up into a completely different process by overdubbing multiple tracks ("m st r ng w tchcr ft l v ng n sp r t"). All this while remaining firmly within the realm of improvisation, augmented with the use of skeletal frameworks.
The accompanying dvd video contains a single live 28 minute performance from Chicago's Empty Bottle that was recorded in 2006. All Lichens live shows are individual events and are not mere duplications of previous performances. Thus, the performance here is a unique snapshot of the Lichens live experience. The film was directed and produced by Mary Scherer and edited by Todd Mattei.
Context: Rob Lowe is involved in collaborations with Cloudland Canyons and White Light, both of which are expected to produce albums in the coming year. He is also working on a collaboration with Alan Licht, and is currently a touring member of Rhys Chatham's guitar trio.
Track Listing:
1. Vevor of Agassou 2. Faeries 3. Bune 4. M St r ng W tchcr ft L v ng n Sp r t 5. Sighns
Quotes:
"Lichens launches skyward eerie, hymnal moans; atomized guitar chords; and meditative Fahey-esque fingerpicking… and the special knowledge to which only the most spiritual cats are privy." Dave Segal-The Stranger
"The impression is fostered that this is a colossal living organism, branching out into uncultivated lands, foreign concerns" Max Schaefer-Comes With a Smile
"Robert Lowe has crafted a solo universe of purely psychedelic beauty and mystery" Dream Magazine
"It's simply stunning, epic and totally timeless." Broken Face
"Natural, unexplainable, unpremeditated but deeply musical." Splendid
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Strange Attractors Audio House
The album, only his second full-length solo guitar release, contains a lot of songs dear to Glenn, some of them detailing his formative years, close friends, and the places he has lived. It is bookended with two short songs named "Island," a sliding bluesy tribute to the island of Martha's Vineyard: a place that is slightly remote but has a growing amount of support for guitarists like Jones. Aboveground Records and Anthony Esposito have made efforts to get people like him, Harris Newman, Jack Rose, and James Blackshaw (just to name a few) out to the island to perform and record with some great results. Against Which the Sea Continually Beats was recorded out there with Esposito, a man who Jones praises for his ability to appropriately mic a solo guitarist: a duty that can often have some horrible results when done poorly by the average house-sound people.
Although Glenn is generous with sharing his techniques, tunings, and secrets, his playing isn't something with which only guitar nerds can connect. While the first meaty song, "David and the Phoenix," (inspired by the book of the same name) is vibrant and vigorous, when a song like "Cady" comes on, it's almost as if there's a direct connection from his heart to the instrument, passing the song through in a way that Glenn can communicate the best. It's no surprise to find when reading along that it's "affectionately dedicated" to his niece.
If John Fahey doesn't come to mind when listening to the music then just the title of "The Teething Necklace (For John Fahey)" should be indication enough of his influence. What might not be widely known is that Jones knew Fahey personally since the late 1970s and recorded with him in the 1990s with his band, Cul de Sac. Jones has spent most of his time with Cul de Sac over the last 15 years and "The Teething Necklace" was Jones re-introduction to playing acoustic guitar. He was working on it in 2001 when Fahey died, ironically enough. Only now has he felt comfortable completing and releasing a recording of it and at an epic ten and a half minutes, it's probably the album's strongest and most memorable piece. It feels appropriate for a song about Fahey's passing: a somber opening spends time mourning the passing but eventually gives way to fond memories, marked by playing that is as spritely as Fahey's imaginative and pastoral playing.
Another song about a passing of a friend is "Heartbreak Hill," something Boston residents will recognize as that point in the Boston Marathon near the end where going any further can absolutely destroy the runners. It's dedicated to a friend and fellow guitar player who worked with Glenn for over 20 years at the same company. The short story in the booklet about Steve is touching, as Glenn, who's clearly a big hearted guy, describes his friend Steve as one of the biggest-hearted people. Steve's ashes were scattered on Heartbreak Hill and the song is another fitting tribute. Not only is it captivating beyond words, but it has a very notable pulse like a long distance runner's steady pace.
Those who have followed my recommendation for Imaginational Anthem will find a lot to love with a full album of Glenn Jones' material if they don't have any already. Glenn is currently recording more material (in Philly with Jack Rose!!!) and will be on the road this year with another great guitarist and Strange Attractors label-mate, Steffen Basho-Jughans, for those who aren't fortunate enough to live here in Boston and be able to see him live occasionally.
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It is impossible not to think of My Bloody Valentine when the album's title track starts up. The queasy, off-kilter noise of Loveless is an obvious influence on Jesu. This is blissful, psychedelic songwriting of a high standard. Granted there is very little pushing of the proverbial envelope but instead the craft of writing music that envelopes the listener is refined. In any case, Broadrick has pushed enough envelopes in his time to be indulged in writing some good, honest songs. The music is deceptively simple; grooves, riffs, melodies and lyrics that would be all right (or in the case of a couple of the lyrics, a little cringe worthy) on their own become euphorically intense when combined together.
Any of the songs here can be picked out as being an example of why this album is so good. A particularly great example is "Weightless & Horizontal," a slightly mid-paced piece (if anything can be slightly mid-paced!) that is a sublime piece of music. The positive spirit that permeates Conqueror is at its strongest on this song: every time I listen to it I get an urge to run out and do something important. The drums rise up throughout the song, becoming a thumping call to march forward in victory as Broadrick's slightly treated voice repeats the refrain "Try not to lose yourself" over a wall of riffs. I am guessing that Ted Parsons has resumed his position at the drumming stool, if not, it is a bloody good impression of his drumming. The hard hitting beats are elegantly tight and simple, punching out holes in the fog of guitars and vocals.
As expected, the album is impeccably recorded and produced and it is no surprise that the further the volume is turned up, the better it sounds. There is plenty of space between the instruments, allowing the texture of each interlocking riff to be fully appreciated. There are of course the usual swells of physical sound pummelling the listener back and demanding all attention. All of the instruments sound gorgeous. The guitars are perfect; they have just the right amount of crunch balanced with a decent tone. I could listen to them on their own for the length of the album but luckily the bass, drums and miscellaneous noises (probably derived from the guitars in some way) fill out the songs like smoke in a burning house. It always sounds like each of the players is playing catch up with the others; they are not out of time but as one riff ends, another is already halfway through its arc. It feels like they are circling around the songs and the listener. The feeling is particularly strong towards the end of the album, especially on "Brighteyes," which is a strong contender along with "Weightless & Horizontal" for song of the year.
While it's not my favorite Jesu release, Conqueror is certainly more than worthy of the Jesu name. The eight pieces explore the lighter fringes of the Jesu sound and in spite of the huge distorted and downtuned guitars, this is the lightest album of heavy music I have heard. I mean this in the nicest possible way, Conqueror has all the Sturm of heavy metal in all its forms but none of the genre's Drang: this is a totally uplifting experience.
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- Scott Mckeating
- Albums and Singles
The opener is probably the most noxious piece of the three, the air conditioning unit panic of "Black Star Pedigree" builds into black greasy shimmers, coaxing worms from coffins. The clang-under-drone of "Perpeual Discomfort" has elements of uncleanliness, a mottled buzz of breath trough dirty filters like mauled dirt bikes.
As unpleasant a song title as "Nicotine Birth" is, that fact thankfully hasn't come out in this succinct slice of music. This piece's frequency shuffle sounds like it was created with intricate detail crouched over painted flecked black boxes. Slowly coming and going like shortwave transmissions through a single headphone, it sounds like copper wires stretched slowly into nothing while the track plays on. This is nice and minimal, no complaints there, but I want it heavier, deeper and longer next time.
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Secretly Canadian
Hyvönen’s music is jaunty pop with a little bit of a bite. Most of these songs could (and should) get radio play but with lines like "Once I felt your cock against my thigh," I think many stations will shy away from her. Well, radio tends to ignore what needs exposure anyway but I digress. What is important is that Until Death Comes is the kind of pop music I like: simple, catchy and with enough depth to make me want to listen to it again, as evinced by the opening song "I Drive my Friend," which sees Hyvönen playing a simple and percussive melody on piano, driving not only her friend but the song forward. Her vocals are nice, a country lilt giving her plenty of character.
Some of her lyrics are a little cumbersome such as on "Today, Tuesday," which features a couple of lines that stumble more than flow but Hyvönen manages to keep things going. The first few times I listened to the album these off-kilter lines irritated me slightly but now I think they added some much-needed texture to the songs. Without these minor aberrations the album would be audio wallpaper. Sometimes the songs do tend towards the kind of thing that would be played in the background of a restaurant but for the most part Until Death Comes keeps my attention.
Short and sweet, this album is a nice slice of pop. Hyvönen crafts good songs, most them interesting and pretty but with the odd speed bump along the way. I am interested to see where she goes from here, I think more of the same would be a turn off but there are times on Until Death Comes when I feel she has the ability to unleash more power.
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