Between 1989 and 1995, Rudolf Eb.er (Runzelstirn & Gurgelstock) and Joke Lanz (Sudden Infant) had a monthly radio show for Switzerland’s 104.5 FM station. Titled Psychic Rally Transmission, each show was an improvised live performance, mixing found tapes, random household instruments and other items, that helped to define the then-nascent Schimpfluch-Gruppe. Aggressive industrial, punky outbursts, and a healthy dose of absurdity pepper the ten complete shows presented in this box.
This is the debut effort from the duo of Ensemble Economique's tirelessly prolific Brian Pyle and Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier's Félicia Atkinson and it is a great one.  Consisting of two very different long-form pieces, Naked Island offers up a beguiling and hallucinatory mélange of breathy spoken word, dreamy synth drones, clattering percussion workouts, blown-out shoegaze bliss, and spacey abstraction.
This is an unusual duo with an unusual pedigree, as Zeigler is a Philadelphia engineer best known for working with artists like Kurt Vile and The War on Drugs, while Lattimore is a harpist who has worked with all kinds of interesting folks in the past, ranging from Jarvis Cocker to Wrekmeister Harmonies.  Together, they create something that would have been perfectly at home on 2013's fascinating I Am The Center compilation…almost.  While Lattimore's rippling harp weaves a gently hallucinatory and dreamlike spell that veers close to both New Age and chamber music at times, Zeigler's well-placed guitar and synth coloration gives these four pieces a welcome heft and unpredictability.  Admittedly, the balance between pastoral and avant garde is not always quite optimal, but this is nevertheless a strong and distinctive debut.
Respectfully revisiting the early sounds defined the second wave of industrial, the one associated with the likes of Skinny Puppy and KMFDM, this Texas duo’s penchant for vintage sounds and minimalist structures definitely show their influences. The songs merge together into a delightfully gray, meandering bit of rhythmic industrial music that is tastefully understated but never dull.
As Terence Hannum's primary project Locrian continues its transition from a small drone project to a more diverse and recognizable behemoth on a large label, recording in major studios, Via Negativa thematically functions as a "remembering his roots" record. Recorded alone in his basement studio, the DIY ethos of his early days is obviously present, but the music is as professional as it comes.
Ziguri's debut album, produced by Schneider TM, blends smooth and powerful motorik monotony, babbling vocals, and also dares to set Thomas Pynchon lyrics to music.
The title of this (surprisingly first) recorded collaboration between Akita and Duncan certainly conjures images of similarly titled works that are regarded for their brilliance (Prince), or drastic shifts for the worst (Metallica). Other than the fact that it is the first work between these two legendary artists, it does not carry the same monolithic weight sonically. It is, however, still a powerful collaboration that reflects both artists’ strengths quite well.
At first I was not sure how this box set slipped by me when it was released last year, but then I remember this is Merzbow we are talking about. He puts out more boxes in a year than most artists do single albums. This is one, however, that should not have gone overlooked. As indicated by the title, this is Masami Akita not alone, but with Kiyoshi Mizutani, and consists of ten discs of raw improvised sessions recorded between 1987 and 1989. Deeply entrenched in the Akita’s junk noise phase, it a sprawling, yet captivating document of the best years of Merzbow.
What began as a lighter side project to Richard Chartier’s more academic work under his own name has evolved into its own distinct entity. Featuring some high profile vocal collaborations, including William Basinski, Cosey Fanni Tutti, and Kid Congo Powers, Description of Problem has Chartier expanding his kitchy project even further, into a dark, sexy album that adds another glittering jewel into his discography.
Although I absolutely loved 2011's Crossing the Pass, By Torchlight album, I had a hard time keeping up with the flood of divergent releases Brian Pyle has unleashed over the last year or so.  As far as I can tell, however, Melt Into Nothing continues along Fever Logic’s path towards darkwave and '80s goth, which is a very curious move.  As noted by Denovali, that arguably makes this Pyle’s most accessible album, but only because it has some vocals and occupies a niche that some people are interested in right now.  In a broader sense, however, I think Brian's weirder, more abstract material is much more attention-grabbing and rewarding than any of the mostly forgotten bands that he is paying homage to here.  That said, Pyle is not one to go for mere pastiche and he still managed to strikes gold with at least one piece.
