13 June 2010

Administrator

Albums and Singles

As most know, Jazkamer has set out to release an album a month for the duration of 2010, which, as of this writing, has successfully made it to its midpoint. This album, which is actually May’s installment, doesn’t have any specific unifying theme, such as the acoustic approach of Self-Portrait or the metal stylings of We Want Epic Drama. Instead, it is a "regular" Jazkamer record that stands with any in their discography, mixing harsh noise, drone, and rock in the way that only Lasse Marhaug and John Hegre can.

Pica Disk

Assisted by Jazkamer associates Nils Are Dr√∏nen and Jean-Philippe Gross, there isn't any specific concept going on, but that is irrelevant.The album begins and ends with two massive tracks, with a slew of short little sketches in between.Opener "Sentimental Journey" sounds like anything but, with its slow, menacing synth pulse that occasionally surges in volume, pushing it into harsher territory, but never getting there.It's a slow build that never gets too harsh but evolves from dronescapes to metal into noise.

"Lament for Klaus Kinski" leads in with what sounds like a looped grinding bass guitar, which becomes the skeleton that the track builds upon.Throwing together junk metal percussion and various processed and filtered sounds, it definitely has a feel similar to Marhaug's solo noise works, but the slightly sparser mix and rhythmic backbone keep it in pure Jazkamer territory."Life as a Secret Agent is Over" also goes for the harsh stuff, putting painful high end noises and buzzing oscillators atop erratic rhythms, the whole track structurally going for a more cut-and-paste collage style.Between that and the analog textures, it totally feels like the mid '90s noise scene, which is a very good thing.

"Burp Boogie, Burp Boogie" is as absurd as it sounds:less than a minute of looped vocalisms with stringed instrument noodling that makes for a bit of levity at the album's midpoint.Follower "In The Days of the Burning Guitar" throws together percussion blasts and white noise waves in a way that resembles a drumkit being pushed down a steep hillside, with a still-functioning analog synth not far behind.The occasional rhythmic drive of "It is the Nobel Prize I want, It's worth $400,000" isn't far removed from the European school of power electronics, but with the unnecessary provocative imagery and vocals stripped away.

Leading up to the album's close, "We Need a Painting, Not a Frame" utilizes more of the erratic, crashing percussion with squelchy static and feedback to create an exhausting pastiche of pummeling sound.The lengthy closer, "Yellow Mountain Fur Peak," goes a dramatically different direction than the other long piece went when it comes to composition.While the opener was all about tense, cautious restraint, this is pure maximalism at its finest: a hollow ambience enshrouds sharp, clipping static and distant cymbals as painfully high frequency oscillators and heavily effected percussion thuds away.The outbursts of static with the stop and start drum freakouts gives the 13-plus minute duration a prog-rock vibe somehow, with the complexity and inherent drama in the track.

While the "new album a month" concept isn't new (Merzbow and Aube did it, but as prolific as they are in general, it's a different story), Jazkamer is using the method to not only try out new things, but also to continue to refine their own sound that clashes noise and drone sounds with a heavy metal sensibility.Luckily, it's not a gimmick, just a good way to spread their work out more.

samples:

• Sentimental Journey
• In The Days of the Burning Guitar
• Yellow Mountain Fur Peak

 

13 June 2010

John Kealy

Albums and Singles

Dedicated to David Tibet and made in celebration of Current 93’s 25th anniversary, this single captures the spectral heart of one of Current 93’s defining pieces. Here Andrew Liles reconstructs what was originally the opening volley of Tibet’s Inmost Light trilogy. "Where the Long Shadows Fall" was one of the key moments in Current 93's career. The combination of Tibet's lyrics, some achingly gorgeous music and, most significantly, that haunting loop of the last castrato, Alessandro Moreschi, made for one of the finest 20 minutes of music committed to tape. Only a madman would try and outdo the original but Liles proves he is more than capable on this single.

Dirter Promotions

Liles retains the same mood on his version of the piece; what sounds like another loop of Moreschi’s unnatural singing is allowed to build hypnotically into a misty, unsettling reverie. The ghostly vocals of Daniela Cascella and Melon Liles add another dimension to the piece; their whispers and utterances cutting through like telepathic communications from the other side. What sounds like the sounds of trains are accompanied by deep bass drones before that sad, familiar loop of Moreschi’s singing peaks through like a spectre behind a curtain.

This version of "Where the Long Shadows Fall" is frustratingly short at just under 10 minutes but it is perfect in its execution, rivalling the original for its weirdly entrancing beauty. Like Liles' recent remixes of Current 93's older releases, this is a fabulous re-imagining of Tibet's vision.

 

13 June 2010

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Kevin Drumm’s incredible run of handmade CD-Rs continues this year despite the termination of his Recreational Panick blog. At the end of August, Drumm simultaneously announced the availability of his last few homemade discs and the existence of a new Bandcamp page, which he promptly filled with several digital reissues of limited cassette and CD-R editions from 2011 and 2012. Three new albums followed shortly thereafter, of which the tape-based two-disc Earrach—that’s Gaelic for "spring"—is one. Appropriately, Drumm has filled it with fleshy, muddy, physical music. It's sloppy, weird, and suggestive; and an absolutely killer recording that squirms and jumps with warped alien life.

Self-Released

The list of equipment used to record Earrach is short and simple: tapes, a Tascasm 414, a Kenwood 1080 receiver, and two handheld cassette recorders. Drumm includes just two other lines of information on the back of the album’s green paper sleeve. The second reads "cassette tape music." The first, "caisead fusillade," which marries the Gaelic word for "cassette" to a term associated with firearms and bombardments.

It’s not a bad description of the music inside. Earrach absolutely explodes with action. For nearly 90 minutes Kevin splices churning tape ruckus with slithering squeals, awkward gurgling, gooey mouth sounds, and other bizarre noises that have a rather wet, just-born quality about them. Fuzzy bits of melody, the odd vocal snippet, and stroboscopic effects take flight in the mix too. They briefly move the music from its wormy ground floor to higher ground, where it shines, screams, and sputters out. But the crackling, closely recorded passages receive the most time and attention.

Drumm comes at each one of those passages a little differently. A few segments begin simply then become more complex, some hit the pavement loud and chaotic, then slowly disintegrate; others simply pop into existence fully formed, buzz about for awhile, and then disappear. In each case the emphasis always falls squarely on the sound—structure be damned. The tiny fluctuations in the tape’s surface, the variations in rhythm and color that emerge as it’s manipulated, the quiet music that bubbles out of apparently random interactions, all of it feels sculpted and palpable; physically present, like a cassette version of David Tudor’s Rainforest IV, but with the logic behind it, if it exists, totally obscured.

What the concluding conversation about Star Trek and Captain Kirk has to do with any of that is a total mystery. The final 19 minute track sees Drumm pull his microphone out of the muck and the grime and into the open air. It focuses on an organ solo for a long time, then catches a child yelling from across the room before settling on a vacuum-like buzz. Flickering voices light up in the spaces between, but if there’s a narrative hiding somewhere in the mix, it is virtually invisible, and unnecessary anyway. The noise Kevin Drumm makes is fascinating enough on its own.

samples:

• The last copies of Kevin Drumm‚Äôs hand-packaged CD-Rs are available through ErstDist. The Recreational Panick page also mentions Tochnit Aleph, but I was unable to find copies listed on their website. Earrach and other albums can be previewed and downloaded from Drumm‚Äôs Bandcamp page as well.

 

13 June 2010

Administrator

Albums and Singles

In classic Andrew Chalk fashion, this wonderful new collaboration quietly surfaced last month on an extremely small label (Scott's own Skire imprint) and very nearly slipped by me entirely.  These pieces humbly originated as a few gently rippling, understated piano motifs that Scott composed while preparing for a performance at this year's F.O.N. Fest, but later evolved into something much more when the recordings were handed off to Chalk.  The resulting album is a pleasantly dreamlike, blurry, and spectral affair, approximating a very appealing middle ground somewhere between Harold Budd's liquid-y pastoralism and Morton Feldman's queasily dissonant pointillism.

Skire

The first side of Wild Flowers (it is currently a vinyl-only release) is consumed entirely by its longest piece, the 19-minute "Speaking To The Rose."  Another major piece, "Hornbeam," composes the bulk of the B-side, but there is also room for a few short, more divergent pieces.  Both of the major pieces share an extremely similar aesthetic, so there is not much point in differentiating them, aside from stating that "Rose" feels more bittersweet and meditative, while "Hornbeam" has a bit of a disquieting edge to it.  I hate to use the word "ambient" here, as that seems woefully insufficient, but that is truly the closest available signpost: Chalk's subdued strings form a hazy, melancholy fog around Scott's simple, languorously unfolding melodies, achieving a kind of bleary and beautiful drifting stasis.

There is never any sense that either piece is progressing towards anything in particular in a conventional sense, as all the important activity occurs at a more subtle, small-scale level.  The most beautiful single aspect of both "Rose" and "Hornbeam" is the same: the way that each of Scott's notes seems to hang in the air gently quivering after being struck.  I realize that is probably a very simple trick (add reverb), but it is executed beautifully, as there is plenty of space between notes to enjoy the decays, afterimages, and shifting harmonies left in their wake.  Also, Chalk's strings are employed masterfully throughout, alternating between ghostly near-silence and well-timed swells of coloration.  The overall effect is a very mesmerizing and enigmatic reverie that both musicians skillfully avoid disrupting with any missteps or overly dramatic gestures.

Curiously, Scott and his piano seem completely absent from the two shorter string-based pieces ("Mayfly" and "Illumine"), which makes me think that Chalk belatedly composed them himself to give the album a more compelling arc (and to presumably fill the remaining space on the second side of the record).  Regardless of their origins, their presence is quite welcome–particularly the roiling grandeur of "Mayfly," which serves as a very effective bridge between the much more subdued long-form pieces.  The one-minute-long "Illumine" seems to be just a brief reprise of "Mayfly," but its slow, graceful fade in and out makes for wonderfully bittersweet and Romantic coda to yet another gorgeous Andrew Chalk album.  This was definitely an inspired pairing, as Chalk and Scott's complementary styles seem to bring out the best in one another.

• Speaking To The Rose
• Mayfly
• Hornbeam

 

 

13 June 2010

Administrator

Albums and Singles

While it would be unfair to say that Monogamy is not as good as Land of Kush’s previous album, Against the Day, it is fair to say that this present album is not as forgiving as the last one. Sam Shalabi’s combination of Arabic traditional motifs and instruments with jazz, free improvisation and electronics has moved further out to truly stretch any notion of genre to breaking point. Add to that a sense of toilet humor and a deeper conceptual edge and this is an album that makes for an album that will no doubt surprise me every time I listen to it.

Constellation

Thanks to the employment of what can only be described as a nymphomaniac model of Stephen Hawking's voice synthesiser, "Scars" is at first a difficult piece to get to grips with. As the machine recites line after line of obscenities (ranging from the plain dirty to the outright bizarre), the music bobs and slashes as The Egyptian Light Orchestra (credited as 23 musicians on this recording alone) follow Shalabi's directions into uncharted territories. Contrasting the insensitive, mechanical sexual stream of consciousness is a powerful, emotive and human performance by Elizabeth Anka Vajagic; her vocals capturing all the drama, both real and imagined, of a relationship whereas the synthetic voice just encapsulates that automatic depravity that the information age has opened the gates to.

On "Tunnel Visions," Katie Moore's vocals are hung on the beautiful scaffolding of ELO's delicate playing. However, a Zappa-esque turnaround brings the piece into a far jazzier territory as an untamed sax skronks over the solid drum groove. The piece dissolves into the next and unfortunately that sickly synthesised voice returns on "Fisherman." While the music underneath is fantastic, I find it hard to get past that computerised vocalist. When Ariel Engle's vocals take over, the piece leaps out of the stereo with far more vigour. The stabbing rhythm allows her voice, the sax and the electronics to soar.

The centrepiece of Monogamy is the title track which recalls the best parts of Against the Day but improves on them (raising an already high bar). Squelching electronics bluster through the music like a strong Sirocco wind. The vocals (by yet another vocalist, Molly Sweeney) dance over the dry, hot and captivating music; strong rhythms and textures creating vivid mental images of north African towns in the dead of night; lovers coming together and breaking apart in endless cycles.

Land of Kush has rapidly become Shalabi's best project, I have always enjoyed his music but found him to be somewhat inconsistent. With this new group and approach to songwriting, he has developed a stronger creative vision. Yet there are still small discrepancies that mar Monogamy. Without that voice synthesiser, this would be undoubtedly stronger than Against the Day but conceptually it works within the album’s themes of sexuality and relationships. At the moment, it is doing my head in but that is liable to change with time. However, everything else here is sublime: the playing, the singing and the overall presentation of the music is spot on. Along with Against the Day, this is certainly one of the most unique albums of recent years.

samples:

• Scars
• Fisherman
• Monogamy

 

13 June 2010

Albums and Singles

While it would be unfair to say that Monogamy is not as good as Land of Kush's previous album, Against the Day, it is fair to say that this present album is not as forgiving as the last one. Sam Shalabi's combination of Arabic traditional motifs and instruments with jazz, free improvisation and electronics has moved further out to truly stretch any notion of genre to breaking point. Add to that a sense of toilet humor and a deeper conceptual edge and this is an album that makes for an album that will no doubt surprise me every time I listen to it.

Read more …

07 June 2010

Administrator

Albums and Singles

A few months back, I sang the praises of Ural Umbo, a duo that Reto Mader is half of. After hearing this album, and one from his other project, Sum of R, I can definitely say that it is Mader who is largely responsible for all of these bands creating work that is awash in a multitude of grays, and here it only slightly obscures a variety of approaches that are not necessarily as dark or as heavy as his previous output may lead one to suspect.

Utech

 

Now, don’t take that to imply that this is all Tangerine Dream and rays of light and all that hippy crap, not at all.The deep, sinister swell of Hell’s church organs that pervade "Early Morning Fog" certainly aren’t uplifting at all, and even when the bells come in to add a bit of levity, it still stays as a dark, undulating miasma of sound.The heavy sustained harmonium and rhythmic clicks of "The Human Factor" channel some perverse take on film scoring, but still goes off on its own singular dark tangent.

The remaining tracks are somewhat lighter in their approach, but again, not inappropriately so.The open guitar strums and field recording elements of "Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" give an organic spaciousness that is definitely not as dark as it could be.The chiming guitar of "Incremental Shift" is a lot more buoyant than the percussive scrapes and noisy drone that surround it, but it stays the focus of the track, rather than the harsher elements."Temporal Resolutions" also focuses more on a soft, Mellotron type sound that are just slightly obscured by delicate static, with reverberated pulses and clicks above.As it draws to a close, it removes some of the layers and distortion to reveal the soft, textural elements that lay beneath.

Textural elements pervade the album throughout:"Organ-Origami" keeps dramatic elements hidden beneath a thin layer of digitally treated distortion to give it a distinct sound that suggests something more akin to noise, but with a bevy of other things going on underneath.When the noise spikes and then disappears, only the beautiful underlying sounds remain, like a storm coming to its inevitable end."Garden of the Lower Lights" puts shimmering icy tones alongside a tremolo laced bit of guitar to juxtapose the dynamic rhythmic swell with the otherwise leaden sounds.

The distinctly gray raincloud sound that characterizes Meto’s work in Ural Umbo and Sum of R is present as well, but on his own, he is more apt to allow the light to shine through, revealing complexities and melodies otherwise hidden.By no means is there an overwhelming sense of levity:it is still a dark album with sinister undertones.Meto’s careful construction of sound is what makes it unique, and thus its greatest strength.

samples:

• Organ-Origami
• Garden of Lower Lights
• Slowly Up and Digital Down...

 

07 June 2010

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Unlike the previous three box sets from the wonderful Pica Disk label, Necro Acoustic is not as much about surveying a career as it is showcasing the full repertoire of Drumm. Sure, there’s archival material dating back to 1996 that has never seen the light of day, but there are two discs of purely new material, as well as some recent (but extremely limited) tracks as well.

PicaDisk

The first disc in this set, Lights Out, is a mere half-hour, but as painful as it is, I don’t think anyone could stand for it to be any longer.Recorded between 2006 and 2008 using just two pulse generators, a filter, and feedback, Drumm builds a grating composition of punishing noise.The opener "Spraying the Weeds" begins innocent enough, with its deep space pulses and static that sound like a more sparse, brittle version of CCCC until a harsh ringing sound pierces through, swelling up to be more and more uncomfortable.The pain continues into "Blistering Statick," with the tinnitus inducing pitches contrasting against deep bass swells, and eventually an almost melodic layer, sounding almost like the cheap jingle of an ice cream truck.The short "Needleprick" cranks up the high end to ultrasonic territory:I don’t have a dog, but I wish I could see one respond to this little piece of pain.The massive closing "Idle Worship" is almost a pure endurance test:mid-range insect buzz and painful, overdriven high end create a wall of relatively static sound, with minor changes occurring as its 15 minute duration continues on.

The second disc, Malaise, is a reissue of a long out of print double cassette on Hospital Productions, presented here in 11 different tracks for convenience.While still harsh as all hell, there’s a bit more variation to the pieces here:the first has such a filtered sound it could be playing off of a cell phone, but occasionally lets loose into untreated blasts of noise.It’s not an overly abrasive one, but one that is more textural and varied.The third segment has a similar approach, with maximalist ambient passages focusing more on tonal dynamics than harshness.Tracks two and six fill the need for the harsh noise wall thing, the former’s jet engine rush and layered noise feels like a nod to the Incapacitants or other old school practitioners.Track nine, clocking in at 15 minutes, avoids the harsh route entirely to focus on walls of oscillator tones, like a massively sustained organ played as loud as possible, to create a more forceful approach.

Decrepit is the compilation disc of the batch, combining pieces recorded between 1998 and 2009, some of which have been previously released.The two part "Dilemma" was originally released as a one sided LP, but is two variations on the Kevin Drumm sound:the first part is cut up feedback and treated guitar noise, with the occasional puff of analog static, while the latter throws out an almost rhythmic bed of noise with sharp, cutting static on top.The tracks from a split LP with 2673 appear here as well:"Totemic Saturation" sounds like a techno synth patch in its death throes, buried amongst layers of harsh grime that grows to a massive swell, but never loses that bit of familiarity."The Blurry Stupor" is one where the harshness is restrained, allowing the multitude of sounds to be heard individually, creating a hazy sound collage rather than a digital enema.The remainder of the tracks stay more in the world of noise, from the painful noise sheets of "Stomach Acid" to the filtered static and fuzz, but with a digital sheen overall, of "Band Pass."

The other new and exclusive material here is No Edit, an hour long track in two parts using only the most rudimentary of sources:prepared guitar, EQ, two pedals, and a Marshall mini-amp.Because of its sparse instrumentation, there is an overall thinner sound:beginning with the noise immediately, one can almost hear the poor little amp in pain, vomiting out guitar squall resembling a detuned AM radio more than a Marshall stack.The focus is more on the scraping of strings, and the second half is a bit more mellow (or perhaps the amp just gave out at this point).The latter portions are subtler, focusing on sustained rattles and the occasionally overt string pluck.

Finally, the closing disc, Organ, is one of Drumm’s earliest works, which appeared heavily edited on the Comedy disc from 2000.Here, it is presented in its entirety:nearly 55 minutes of two organs blasting through guitar amps and effects.The structure is pretty rudimentary:there’s alternating sustained chords and key bashing throughout the duration, but power develops through the simplicity.The sound becomes this massive, monolith of noise that is subtly treated through pitch changes and effects as it goes on, but as a whole it takes the sound of such a "big" instrument and blows it up to epic, nearly absurd proportions.

Again, I’m sounding like a broken record, but Lasse Marhaug has done beautiful work, presenting the five discs in a clamshell box with a booklet full of pictures of Drumm's dilapidated old home in which most of the early material presented here was recorded, providing appropriate imagery for the sounds of grime and decay that are contained within. That, coupled with the variety of material presented makes this a great set:those less familiar with Drumm’s work can get a good overview of his career while the hardcore fans will find enough new material to enjoy.

samples:

• Idle Worship
• Totemic Saturation
• No Edit 1

 

07 June 2010

Administrator

Albums and Singles

This, the final part of David Tibet’s trilogy of revelations that began with Black Ships Ate the Sky, is his most dizzying and hallucinatory work yet. Stripping back the heavy guitars that have been creeping steadily into Current 93’s music, the songs here instead sound like they have been passed down through generations of Middle Eastern folk musicians. From the image of a young Tibet standing in front of Stonehenge on the back of the album to the lyrical themes of eternities, the weight of time hangs heavy around Baalstorm, Sing Omega. This is a surprising and rewarding change in tone for Current 93 that certainly ranks amongst Tibet's finest work yet.

Coptic Cat

Each of the three albums in this series focus on different facets of Tibet’s visions; the black ships destroying the heavens of the first album, the titanic Adam/Aleph character’s bloodstained features and now the cataclysmic Baalstorm sweeping over the horizon. While Tibet’s lyrics are rarely transparent, the songs on Baalstorm, Sing Omega are particularly dense in their imagery. Obviously Tibet is drawing even more on his vast readings not just in Coptic but also on a wider range of topics. The fallout of the nuclear "bikini blast" from Aleph at Hallucinatory Mountain manifests itself here with the repeated references to ions and aeons; "the infinite leak" having a half-life many times longer than the full lives of humanity.

The other striking aspect of Baalstorm, Sing Omega is how feminine it is; battles being waged by Amazonian warriors and an almost Joycean incorporation of women from Tibet’s life into symbolic beings throughout the album. Magical Molly Blooms and apocalyptic Anna Livia Plurabelles take on the aspects of gods and divine symbols. The idea of motherhood, fertility and a new world gestating in an amniotic sea permeates the album: "Pulling down the moon and sun/From the thighs of the queen... The bump, the bribe, the breasts."

The music itself is also less masculine than on the previous albums; the electric guitars replaced with more graceful and limber strings. In particular, Eliot Bates’ oud brings a sinuous element to the music, exotic and ancient melodies emerging from the bowels of the instrument. On "With Flowers in the Garden of Fires," his gorgeous playing combined with percussion (which appears to be a combination of Alex Neilson on a traditional kit and Eliot Bates on erbane and daf) creates a mesmerising musical arabesque. This is a long way both in time and space to Current 93’s usual western folk influence and, unlike the previous two albums, the music is gentler. Despite the obvious power of the electric guitar, the haunted waves of Baalstorm, Sing Omega will erode Aleph’s hallucinatory mountain.

Most of the album lacks the violence of the Aleph songs but that is not to say that this album remains completely sedate. The thumping piano refrain of "Baalstorm! Baalstorm!" propels an urgent Tibet as a mixture of Andrew Liles’ electronics and guitars create a fuzzy fog around the lyrics. This tempest gives way to the peaceful and utterly beautiful "Passenger Aleph in Name." James Blackshaw’s simple but bewitching glockenspiel motif repeats itself as the rest of the ensemble add texture and detail around it. As the music ripples outwards, John Contreras’ cello swells up like the calm tide after a maelstrom.

Yet this is not some seasonal bout of bad weather, this is a flood of mythological proportions (biblical is too restrictive a term considering the breadth of Tibet’s lyrics). Tibet’s Baalstorm appears to be occurring on a scale that is either too small ("the split of an atom") or too large to be fully comprehended. This epic is so layered and personalised (though Tibet thankfully includes some explanatory information in the sleeve notes) that it is impossible for me, after only a week, to fully come to grips with what is going on this album. However, by the end of the album, the feeling that something large, black, and revelatory is on the horizon is impossible to ignore. The thunderclaps, the sound of waves both oceanic and apocalyptic and Baby Dee’s fabulous electric organ come together on "I Dance Narcoleptic" to finish off the album (and perhaps the world) in style. Tibet’s insisting lyrics might be hard to believe but the conviction is frightening. Interspersed with children singing Omega, the music starts to spin as I am caught in a whirlpool and drown in the deeps of Tibet’s dreams. In the wake (or as I wake), the sound of Bill Fay’s voice drifts through the murk like a messenger from the heavens. Suddenly I am free to take a breath again.

samples:

• With Flowers in the Garden of Fires
• Passenger Aleph in Name
• I Dance Narcoleptic

 

07 June 2010

Administrator

Albums and Singles

Billed by member Lars Horntveth and Ninja Tune as a Fela Kuti/Frank Zappa/progressive rock hybrid, Jaga Jazzist's latest is even more expansive and inclusive than that description suggests. Unpredictable smatterings of funky bass, over-driven guitar solos, synth jams, Steve Reich-ian hypno-patterns, pleasing stylistic jumps, and a much appreciated sense of humor are all present on One-Armed Bandit and without a single instance of forced splicing or embarrassing technical posturing.

Ninja Tune

Jaga Jazzist draw from so many influences that accurately pinning down the sound on their latest album is an almost impossible task. References to Steve Reich make just as much sense as allusions to Janko Nilovic, Fela Kuti, or any one of the fusion-era jazz powerhouses, like Miles Davis or Mahavishnu Orchestra. So, calling it something like a rock-jazz hybrid is about as helpful as saying it has lots of notes, often played in rapid succession. What Jaga Jazzist have done so well on this record is blend all of their influences to the point of complete synthesis: they not only play killer jazz and classical licks, they own them and blend them as if it were the most natural thing in the world. This is easily demonstrable: just listen to the dark and brooding rock of "220 V/Spektral" and witness how effortlessly it segues into the looping organs, towering horns, and skittering drum 'n' bass rhythms of "Toccata." At first blush these tunes don't seem reconcilable, but Jaga draws them together flawlessly, connecting the dots between their own electronic past, library music, jazz, and progressive rock, sometimes on the same song.

But One-Armed Bandit isn't a great record thanks to its showy virtuosity and seamless blending alone. Each of the album's nine songs features a strong melodic or rhythmic center and a whole smörgåsbord of unusual diversions and thematic shifts that entertain directly and viscerally. In other words, One-Armed Bandit isn't a difficult or complex-for-complexity's-sake record. There are as many tight and memorable hooks as there are impressive solos or complex passages. Much of its success in this regards stems from the band's ability to laugh at themselves. The album's artwork, which is centered on casino imagery, finds its analog on the album's first song, which quickly demonstrates that this isn't going to be simply a wank-fest for technique-obsessed musicians. While keeping things tight and forward moving, Jaga Jazzist toss together sax solos and horn sections, thick-as-concrete bass lines with enough funk to liberate most asses, guitar leads that would make almost anyone contort their face in Van Halen-like glory, and a percussion performance with energy enough to make Buddy Rich proud. In other words, the song kicks ass in the first two minutes, generating enough energy to power the Starship Enterprise for the duration of The Next Generation. They then throw in flutes, xylophones, any number of keyboards, and other miscellaneous accompaniment before breaking out a weirdo surprise in the middle: an orchestra of slot machines erupting in unison, like a symphony of gamblers diving into a sea of arpeggios and victoriously flashing lights. It's a dizzying moment, especially since the band manages to bounce the rhythm around like a skipping record, and it illustrates very well the spirit of the rest of the record.

Without even a hint of choppiness or awkwardness, Jaga Jazzist fill One-Armed Bandit up with all manner of surprises and killer tunes, and they completely out-do themselves on each and every song, showing off their songwriting chops and technical ability at once. I have probably listened to this record more than any other this year and I'm finding that it continues to grow on me nearly six months after its release.

samples:

• One-Armed Bandit
• Toccata
• Prognissekongen