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A perfect pairing, Every Hidden Color is Argentina's Federico Durand and the US' Nicholas Szczepanik, both relatively young purveyors of dreamlike ambient music. There are not really any surprises on this two track LP, which is a good thing: it is a carefully constructed work that mixes beautiful, formless tonal drift with rich melodies of subtle construction.
While Szczepanik has been rather prolific in short, diverse pieces (such as his Ante Algo Azul series of 12 3" cds), Durand has stuck mostly to the album length format, on works for Spekk and Own Records.The two side-long pieces that make up Luz then seems to be a perfect middle ground for the two artists to work within.
The introduction to the A side of this work is really the only time that things are harsh:a combination of fuzzy, almost abrasive noises and field recordings, creating a sense of tense urban chaos, which is soon counteracted by the appearance of delicate melodies.These repeating tonal structures weave in and out, becoming the center of attention and enveloping the field recordings into a rich, powerful piece of music.Slowly, almost imperceptibly throughout, these individual notes begin to blend together into a shimmering, amorphous drone that conveys the same lush beauty, but in a less structured manner.Oddly enough, it is on a colder, isolated, almost creepy note that the side ends.
On the other side, more pastoral field recordings are mixed with looped, abstract textures to fascinating effect.Atop this, slightly treated guitar is placed, mostly just delayed, so it retains the instrument’s natural sound.The combination of conventional sounding guitar and processed, textural ambience works well together, and eventually the whole thing is bolstered by what sounds like layers of droning synthesizers, ending the album on a drifting, billowy passage.
Throughout Luz, a sense of delicate, but powerful beauty emanates from the layers of electronic sound and cautious melodies.An unending stream of tone flows like a slow river, carrying glorious textures with it.While there is an admirable simplicity to the way the album is constructed, it is by no means sparse or skeletal, it has just enough going on to be captivating, while still remaining meditative and calm.Durand and Szczepanik compliment each other perfectly, and the result is a beautiful piece of sonic experimentation.
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Camera is a young trio which has been stamped with the approval of veterans Michael Rother and Dieter Moebius. With Radiate they expand the abandon and spontaneity of their live performance which have been dubbed "Krautrock Guerilla."
 
The Berlin-based group has a reputation which, up until now, has been based upon their gate-crashing gigs in gentlemen's toilets, subway stations, underpasses, and at award shows. Such appearances are made possible by the speedy set up of a couple of amps, guitars and synthesizer, and a minimal drum kit of snare, floor tom, cymbals, and headless tambourines. Appearances with the aforementioned (pioneering members of Neu, Cluster, and Harmonia) Moebius and Rother hasn't done them any harm either.
Some of the fierce, hypnotic flavor of these non-concert hall shows can easily be viewed on the web and it would be terrific to get off a train or go for a pee and happen upon one of them in real life. Yet, as exciting and intriguing as the web-based clips seem, the sound quality is lacking and I find the sonic mix a little too "democratic," or somewhat cluttered by the percussion. As the saying goes: a little tambourine goes a long way.
The eight pieces on Radiate benefit from the studio setting and show a great improvement in both structure and audio quality. Apparently, after some planning, the group approached these sessions very much like a live performance. The hypnotic elements are not lost and neither is the feeling of improvised surfing on a flow of cosmic sound. As expected, the album is blend of spaciness and propulsion as Camera create both languid atmospheres as on "Villon" and bristling passages laden with fuzzed-out guitar and synth, such as "E-go." All this perhaps coalesces best on "Utopia Is," which includes some wordless voices. There is also some speaking on "Rfid." The track "Soldat," which translates as "Soldier," has a more brutal, depressed, mechanical rhythm in contrast with the lighter piece "Morgen."
The original wave of Krautrock represented an outburst of creative expression derived from the desire of young Germans to be free of the sins of the past and in the process shed the received limits of both national history and musical structure. Camera fits right in with that ethos. Their approach also results in music of a similar tone to that of the somewhat neglected UK band Appliance—another good thing.
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It's rather difficult to believe Jimmy LaValle of the popular hardcoreoutfits Swing Kids, The Locust and GoGoGo Airheart is the same Jimmy ofTristeza or the elegant and introspective project, The Album Leaf. Inany case, this follow-up to the successful 'An Orchestrated Rise toFall' further focuses the stylistic intentions of its predecessor. 'OneDay I'll Be On Time' captures the haunting yet simple instrumentalbeauty found in much of the work of Brian Eno on 'Another Green World'or 'Before and After Science' (the songs "Wet the Day" and "The Sailor"being distinctively Eno-esque, particularly as regards LaValle'skeyboard work). From sparse, hypnotic electric piano melodies todelicate (but never flowery), ambient guitar pieces like "Storyboard"(not to mention those songs which combine the best of both theseworlds, such as "The MP"), the album is replete with a sincerity thatis so lacking in many otherwise talented artists' work. However,although it is sparse, this is not to say it lacks depth. LaValle'ssongwriting seems crafted with the utmost care. He plays nearly all thevast array of instruments, as well as doing the bulk of the recordinghimself. It is likely that these elements lend 'One Day' its intimacy.In a match that is hardly surprising, The Album Leaf (which featuredLaValle with assistance from fellow members of Tristeza) has justcompleted a recent tour opening for like-minded moody songsters SigurRÑs.
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If at all possible, try to ignore the astonishingly poor name of thisband. Try also to set aside your (certainly justified) misgivings aboutthe album's inaccurate Grateful Dead reference for a title. Now, if itisn't too much to ask after you've done the aforementioned superhumanfeats (and I must congratulate you if your mind remains at all open,but the true test is yet to come, as you'll soon see), please look pastthe fact that the first song on this CD is titled (are you ready?),"Buckle Up Scully, I Believe Chuck Here is About to Take Us on a Rideto the Abnormal". Still there? Goodness gracious. What on earth couldhave prompted this actually-quite-good Greek quartet to make so manyastoundingly poor naming choices is truly beyond my ken. Their albumdeserves better, because it is worth listening to. Titles, after all,are secondary to the music, but one must wonder about why a band wouldwant to represent themselves so. The entirely instrumental group seems to have synthesized elements ofold 4AD records with that slow n'heavy Godspeed You Black Emperor! rockdirge. Even if the drums are played by an actual person (I don't knowif they are or not), they have that flat quality most peculiar to the1980s Cocteau Twins drum machine. The ghosts of Angelo Badalamentescores lurk in the reverb-soaked guitar and heavy Godspeed!-like dramatakes the form of one- or two-chord songs that meander over ten minutestretches for maximum "epic" effect. In fact, this band wears theirinfluences so opaquely that they go beyond being simply derivative, andcome out as... really quite nice. They add a noisy rock element attimes, riding that one chord until it grows louder and louder and feedsback over a steady, simple 4/4 beat. And even though gloomy gothicbombast hangs over all the tunes, it's never off-putting. "What a Long,Strange Journey" is a fine album... but please please tell me, what'sthe Grateful Dead got to do with it? Look for these at their website or email
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'62-56' was first to surface after that, materializing from Tigerbeat6in July. While it's billed as an Extended Play single, the disc haseleven tracks and totals over 45 minutes. What does separate it frommost album characteristics is the whole array of different styles Lanerchooses to let loose with, rather than limit himself to a coherenttheme. Here, Laner's unafraid to play with beautiful melodies,Kraftwerkian/Mousey punchy beat-friendly tracks, glitchy cutups andeven toy with the power of suggestion with the spoken vocals on thedisc's closer. There's even a rather interesting 15+ minute improvbetween Brad and other noteworthy local laptop owners Blectum fromBlechdom, Lesser and Kid 606 which would easily please anyexperimental-Stockhausen worshipping musique concrete fan.
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(new), on the other hand is Laner's contribution to Fällt's 'InvalidObjects' 3" CD series. If I've learned anything from Raster-Noton, it'sthat I never need to buy all the albums in a series ever again.Especially with 'Invalid Objects' where the series consists of 24releases, all priced over $10 here in the USA. Only 250 of each discwas pressed, however, and the series includes the usual gang of idiotslike Pita, Scanner, Kim Cascone, and Richard Chartier. This timearound, I only bought the three I cared about (this one, V/Vm andPimmon) instead of wasting my money on piles of crapola like the 20' to2000 disappointment. Laner's contribution consists of 14 one-minutelong tracks, ranging from low sub-frequencies, frighteningly loudabrasions, live drums, tone bursts, electronic twitters, playgroundrecordings and orchestral samples. It's entertaining and no lessendearing as his other releases, as with each track running right intoeach other, completing the whole more like one intricate 14-minute longtrack. At the end of the day, however, it's not something I'd pull forfrom the shelves frequently.
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Tigerbeat6 released "Greatest Hits" in October, but the cover andpromos were being passed around before September 11th. Unlike any otheralbum which bears the same name, this one features reconstructions by ahost of friends as opposed to collecting old, previously releasedthings. Perhaps it's quite appropriate the cover features a collapsingbuilding, as the "remixes" on this disc are completely reformed piecesfrom the bricks supplied by the Electric Company, himself. (Of course,the back should probably include the new building erected in itsplace.) In addition to the proverbial TB6 posse, re-erectors includePhthalo's Phthalocyanine, Tom Recchion, µ-Ziq, Geoff White and thenotoriously erect Leafcutter John. The erections [you were waiting forme to use that word] aren't a clever display of genre-straddling likethe conventional remix record, but do showcase the reinterpretivestyles of each artist. Like the broken record sounding Pimmon track,the acoustic guitar loops of Electric Company himself. Okay, so it'sreally just a remix album, but it's very nice to listen to.
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- Timeblind - around Rmx
- Pimmon - Knotenansammlung
- Frank Bretschneider - wednes3 Rmx
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Cock ESP are very silly. The core duo of Emil Hagstrom and Matt Baconhave earned themselves some small reknown by donning fancy dress anddelivering very short random noise sets which usually end in some kindof violent chaos. After thrilling to the sound of Cuban screamer ElysePerez shrieking whilst cracking the bald skulls of drunken beach bumswith a gnarled stick of driftwood, they asked her to join them. Thetheme of this album appears to be the comedy of pain, as most trackssport corrupted cheesy song titles with one word obliterated by theword 'pain'. During the twenty minutes of quick choking noise burststhere is also a little violin, although you'd hardly know it, andFlying Luttenbacher Weasal Walter blows some honking clarinet blastsover six lucky maelstroms. If anyone out there is still mad enough tobe a V/Vm completist then you're going to need this, as the Edgelymasher does a mix up on the longest track, and brings his ownsaxalicious stamp of hacked pompous poptone plunder to the din of thescreaming Cock. Rushing through 18 splurges of ridiculous riot noise,Cock ESP kick up a racket that never sticks around long enough toirritate and after the first few tracks shows the kind of irreverentillogic that only a man in a donkey suit could really deliver. Withoutthe live show shenanigens, the Cock ESP experience is of courseincomplete, but there is a lovely collection of on stage snapshots onthe insert to help your earmagination along. If that's just not enoughthey'll be touring the US and Europe early next year. There are stillmore pictures and on the Cock ESP websitewhere you can also find three full short bursts of noise from thisrelease and a selection from their many other spewings. There they alsodisplay their various accolades with pride having been described asidiot noise, performance-noise wackos and a bunch of sad twats.
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- CockESP.com, Graeme's especially lazy this week
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Robert Henke's Monolake delivers the second full length album within ayear. "Cinemascope" couples 5 previously released vinyl tracks with 5others for a 66 minute continuation of Monolake's modus operandi:majestic, minimized, computerized groove. A glacial serenity isever-present, more so in terms of atmosphere than emotion, as soundsalchemically mix and tracks unfold and evolve. The shorter ones, overhalf the album, are very rhythmic and dance floor ready. "Ping" and"Cut" in particular neatly toss about bass and beats as though in ametallic tumbler. I'm duly impressed. But it's the lengthier andmellower, more environmental epics that are most impressive. "Bicom"binds dry iced hiccups to a mildly hip hop loop. "Ionized" isadequately named, gradually gaining and losing electrons of chargedsound over 11+ minutes. "Alpenrausch", commissioned for Switzerland'scultural symposium Migros Kulturprozent, cuts and pastes sampledvocalizations with glass bells. Monolake albums usually end with agorgeous ambient minded finale and "Indigo" is no exception as deepblue liquid drips and gathers amongst gently percolating bass. Verynice. Another new album is apparently due out early next year.
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Having previously pumped up the sounds of surgically enhancedflatulence for a Hot Air 7", the diagnostic sound recording services ofDoctors Stahlgren and Ferguson were in demand. Their biggest job todate was the big Omag Magnetizing bank scam. They were hired to recordall the whistles, creaks, rattles, wirrings and splutterings made bythe printing, magnetizing, sorting and reading processes that digestcheques travelling through the swollen world banking gut. Their bigmoney diagnosis remains a mystery, but some of the magnetic printingsounds have been hacked, chopped, thoughtfully rearranged and evengiven the odd punchline here and there by their creator Matt Wand. Forthis dose of Hot Air he's been wearing his electroacoustic hat. Shortspells of calm droning are followed by quick collaged crescendos andwhilst it all seems quite condensed, there's nothing to stop a secondlisten. Perhaps the beauty of the 3" CD format is brevity, but I couldhappily listen to more of this, as Matt does electroacoustic laptoppingwell and leaps and hobbles adventurously into more abstractsoundscaping than on the comparatively safe but cheerful Ungu Buntu 3".I'm particularly floored by the big mangled mash up peaks of the 'DeadThixotropic Duct Roller', but can just as happily dust the speakersdown with the eerie hum wobbling of 'Anti-set-off Powder'. Now wheredid I leave that 'Shrinking Disinclination Loop'?
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This little 3" CD from the Hot Air label, with it's quaint pictures ofIndonesian women wearing old hats of the fifties, has been caughtmasquerading as a reissue of a rare tape classic which was supposedlyoriginally only released in South East Asia on the Kesenian label in1982. If the sleeve notes are to be believed, which they're not, thenObeng Ungu and Jalan Buntu not only paid musical tribute to the bravehat wearing women of Sumatra, who risked internment and publicexecution for embracing fashions from outside their culture, but werethemselves the victims of cultural reappropriation. Their 1981recordings of sessions at the Daging Dingin Candi, beating theirgambangs and rubbing their metallophones, were ahead of their time.They were so ahead of their time that their odd combo which soundedlike it had it's pot gongs, cuks, caks and sekelengs mixed down on alaptop, that Salford duo Stock, Hausen & Walkman ripped them offwilly nilly for their "Organ Transplants". Well, old John Peel of RadioOne was fooled. Admittedly, it probably doesn't take much to fool MrPeel, but surely the picture of the 'Public parading of condemned hatwearers' ought to give the game away if the music itself didn't?Strangely Matt Wand, who has been indulging in works of fiction, hashad emails from people with faulty memories congratulating him onreissuing such a mythic recording. I told Matt that the twelve shorttracks with silly long titles made me think of truncated "OrganTransplants" done with ethnic percussion and tropical croaking samples.Matt laughed and told me to fuck off.
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I've mostly lost faith in the whole Ant-Zen/Hands thing. Recently,though, two albums were released that nearly restored my entire faithin the style of music as a whole: Azure Skies (reviewed last week) andTarmvred's "Subfusc."Right from the start, "Subfusc" appealed to my tastes - most of thesongs are quite long (I'm a long-song freak). But what really sets itapart is the fact that it's written really damned well. You will findno contrived distorted dancefloor songs here: the beats are there, andin full force, but they never slip into the four-on-the-floor trap andthey will never make you think you're listening to Noisex.
Which brings me to the point that Tarmvred sounds a lot like an evolvedWinterk¹lte. The structure and approach is kind of the same, but I dareto say that Tarmvred pulls it off better... Nor is Tarmvred afraid tobreak out the Sidstation, and drop in a phat old-skool C64 melody atthe end of track one. The whole album has little cool bits like thesein it, that break away from the cliches and make wonderful use of new,interesting sounds.
The album gets slightly redundant at points (some of the beginningparts of the longer songs are unnecessary)... but this is still awonderful album, especially for anyone who was listening to Ant-Zen afew years ago and then got tired of the club music crap. But hey, theclub kids should like it too: this is something for everyone. Get it.
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The Oakland California trio Replicator ignite their debut album with an instrumental that puts the rock into rocket. Slow burn smouldering dual note guitar atmospherics soon zoom boldly skyward with big brash jettison chords that'd make Trans Am's Red Line go green. For the next six songs they twist and turn through angular song forms with clipped vocals which couple melodic hooks with a complexity which is forceful but never forced. The hard hitting precision production from Shellac bassist Bob Weston gives equal weight to every aspect of Replicator's sound, and might just get them a few more Shellac comparisons than they otherwise would get, but they are definite fans of that band and at times employ similarly dynamic song structures.
However they have a stronger melodic sensibility that on 'Strategery' recalls an angrier Poster Children and on 'Motivationally Challenged' they remind me how good the first Archers of Loaf album was. Replicator play with an engaging energy and exuberance on their songs but it's the three instrumental tracks that really fire me up. The mournful guitar on 'Journey to the End of the Night part II' rises to another crescendo that doesn't quite erupt like the opening '(No More) Salted Beef' did but sounds just fine even so. The long goodbye of their 'Taxi Driving' finale couples a moving piano melody with tub thump drums and a backwards rotor loop betrays a Flaming Lips influence, and perhaps opens the door to more experimentation with their sound next time round?
 
 
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- Check the Replicator site for downloads of three "Winterval" tracks.
 
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