On 'Kicker in Tow,' Hangedup explore territory stylistically similar to their excellent self-titled debut, but the viola and percussion duo is even more finely tuned and powerfully compelling this time, making this a wonderful album. They play repetitive but lively rock music with clear minimalism and folk influences, and the nine songs on this record are a blend of well-executed improvised and composed pieces.
Fire Records
The south London sextet Delicate AWOL has other projects besides their recently released 'Heart Drops From the Great Space.' They run a label called Day Release Records and they play in the band Rothko, sometimes referred to as their "alter ego." On 'Heart Drops From The Great Space,' Delicate AWOL craft a baroque arrangement of jazz, post-rock, and classical, perhaps plucking unique pieces from the spheres of their other projects outside the band. The layers throughout the album are largely twofold, though: jazz and rock. Third and fourth minor layers are the chamber-pop strings and the electronic glitches which pop up in some songs. But every now and then, all of these layers evaporate along with their relevant instruments and leave bare the skeletal side of the band, which is often more honest and true and delicate than the rest. On "That Terminal's Down," the bass guitar, drums, and horn-tooting eventually give way to simply shimmery chimes and Caroline Ross's vocals, and it sounds lovely. These sparer parts on the album are unfortunately infrequent, but when they do arrive, they do so stylishly and with panache. Throughout the record, the jazz layer of Delicate AWOL is slightly abrasive, largely because the horns suggest that this album should be labeled as a lounge rock album. But I think there is more going on here than just background music to Scotch and cigarettes. It peaks out from behind the velvet curtain occasionally, when it hears the horns subdued, the strings muted, and the rhythms dissipated. Appreciation of Delicate AWOL is developed through these built-in contrasts, though this renders some of 'Heart Drops From The Great Space' much more listenable than the rest.
The south London sextet Delicate AWOL has other projects besides their recently released 'Heart Drops From the Great Space.' They run a label called Day Release Records and they play in the band Rothko, sometimes referred to as their "alter ego." On 'Heart Drops From The Great Space,' Delicate AWOL craft a baroque arrangement of jazz, post-rock, and classical, perhaps plucking unique pieces from the spheres of their other projects outside the band. The layers throughout the album are largely twofold, though: jazz and rock. Third and fourth minor layers are the chamber-pop strings and the electronic glitches which pop up in some songs. But every now and then, all of these layers evaporate along with their relevant instruments and leave bare the skeletal side of the band, which is often more honest and true and delicate than the rest. On "That Terminal's Down," the bass guitar, drums, and horn-tooting eventually give way to simply shimmery chimes and Caroline Ross's vocals, and it sounds lovely. These sparer parts on the album are unfortunately infrequent, but when they do arrive, they do so stylishly and with panache. Throughout the record, the jazz layer of Delicate AWOL is slightly abrasive, largely because the horns suggest that this album should be labeled as a lounge rock album. But I think there is more going on here than just background music to Scotch and cigarettes. It peaks out from behind the velvet curtain occasionally, when it hears the horns subdued, the strings muted, and the rhythms dissipated. Appreciation of Delicate AWOL is developed through these built-in contrasts, though this renders some of 'Heart Drops From The Great Space' much more listenable than the rest.
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Planet Mu
When most music snobs think of the word album, they tend to discount the concept of the compilation (in comparison to the release of a full-length recording of new material). In actuality, all full-length albums are compilations themselves of thoughts and ideas which materialize as audio compositions. While Keith Fullerton Whitman has never recorded and released a full-length album as Hrvatski, listening to his second compilation is much like going through somebody's personal photo album with the brief little captions underneath each picture. "Here I am restructuring a Kid 606 track you've all heard," "this one was taken in the hallway of an apartment building," "here I am doing a Rolling Stones tribute," and thankfully each snapshot is enjoyable. For 'Swarm and Dither,' the whole story isn't even close to being completed—this isn't to be regarded as an anthology or a definitive collection, however it does make for a great collection of the finer moments of Whitman's experience as Hrvatski, picking up where 1998's 'Oiseaux' left off. Included are the choppy hyperactive cuts like "2nd Zero Fidelity Mandible Investigation" which could easily have been recorded the same day as the opening classic "Vatstep DSP," appearing for the first time ever on a Hrvatski record (outnumbered by the two appearances on Kid 606 projects). The 16-second "Untitled Fields" is a good tension-reliever as well as the all-too-short "Gemini," culled from the release 'Autumn Nature.' Some of the more chin-scratching pieces include his abstract cover version of "Paint It, Black," and the sample-montage of "Anestetise Thineself," in which he could easily be paying tribute to Tear Garden's "OOEEOO," but I doubt that was intentional. My personal favorite moments on the compilation are the new tracks "Freie Zeit," an improvised bit which just happened to be captured and the waltzing closer, "Tegenborg," equipped with enough distorted prog-rock cock-rock guitars and hand claps to make any DSP fan cringe. Maybe one of these days Hrvatski will do some sort of a conceptual album, but for now, this listen is rewarding enough.
When most music snobs think of the word album, they tend to discount the concept of the compilation (in comparison to the release of a full-length recording of new material). In actuality, all full-length albums are compilations themselves of thoughts and ideas which materialize as audio compositions. While Keith Fullerton Whitman has never recorded and released a full-length album as Hrvatski, listening to his second compilation is much like going through somebody's personal photo album with the brief little captions underneath each picture. "Here I am restructuring a Kid 606 track you've all heard," "this one was taken in the hallway of an apartment building," "here I am doing a Rolling Stones tribute," and thankfully each snapshot is enjoyable. For 'Swarm and Dither,' the whole story isn't even close to being completed—this isn't to be regarded as an anthology or a definitive collection, however it does make for a great collection of the finer moments of Whitman's experience as Hrvatski, picking up where 1998's 'Oiseaux' left off. Included are the choppy hyperactive cuts like "2nd Zero Fidelity Mandible Investigation" which could easily have been recorded the same day as the opening classic "Vatstep DSP," appearing for the first time ever on a Hrvatski record (outnumbered by the two appearances on Kid 606 projects). The 16-second "Untitled Fields" is a good tension-reliever as well as the all-too-short "Gemini," culled from the release 'Autumn Nature.' Some of the more chin-scratching pieces include his abstract cover version of "Paint It, Black," and the sample-montage of "Anestetise Thineself," in which he could easily be paying tribute to Tear Garden's "OOEEOO," but I doubt that was intentional. My personal favorite moments on the compilation are the new tracks "Freie Zeit," an improvised bit which just happened to be captured and the waltzing closer, "Tegenborg," equipped with enough distorted prog-rock cock-rock guitars and hand claps to make any DSP fan cringe. Maybe one of these days Hrvatski will do some sort of a conceptual album, but for now, this listen is rewarding enough.
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Right off the bat I want to get something off my chest: had I not been familiar with Whitman's work as Hrvatski nor trusting of the label Kranky, I would have been completely thrown off by the clinicization of music by the words "laptop," "ring modulators," "granular re-synthesis algorithms," "drone," "academic," and (especially) "Terry Riley" in the description on the web site. Seeing something like this is almost remeniscent of the magic of fucking nearly ruined by the overexplaination by a creepy teacher in a high school sex ed class. That said, the music on KFW's debut is alarmingly attention-commanding for a beat-less, lyric-free excursion.
Sub Pop
One of the highlights from this year's Terrastock festival was the blowout performance by Kinski. The EP they're selling on tour (and on the net) is their first release through Sub Pop, a precursor to their Sub Pop debut (their third album) next Spring. At four songs, the disc acts as a wonderful introduction for those who haven't been won over by the band yet. Kinski cleverly disguises their unbridled rock tendencies with lengthy drone openings and noise fillers. While the formula is old hat (two guitars, bass, drums), the songs are straight up fun to listen to. Anybody familiar with Ride's "Leave Them All Behind" could probably predict that the opening guitar effects on "Semaphore" (no relation to Fridge) merely hint towards the bombastic arrival of all the other instruments. About 2/3 of the way through, however, the song takes an unexpected turn and speeds headlong through the finish line. Continuing on with that same motion, the peppy, punchy "Point That Thing Somewhere Else," originally by the Clean, is the only vocal track on the disc. The energy completely drops after that for the improvised noise of "The Bunnies Are Tough," which, honestly could have been either avoided or completely exploited. The closer, "I Wouldn't Hurt a Fly," opens with the serene sounds of wonderfully delayed guitars (you know, the kinds mama used to make) but is soon shattered by the loudness factor again. With two minutes left, the track gets completely fucked up. I can't tell if this is intentional or a complete glitch as it happens on all of my CD players. Look for this Seattle four-piece on tour with Acid Mothers Temple right now and try your damndest to track down any of their older recordings. (Best of f'n luck.)
One of the highlights from this year's Terrastock festival was the blowout performance by Kinski. The EP they're selling on tour (and on the net) is their first release through Sub Pop, a precursor to their Sub Pop debut (their third album) next Spring. At four songs, the disc acts as a wonderful introduction for those who haven't been won over by the band yet. Kinski cleverly disguises their unbridled rock tendencies with lengthy drone openings and noise fillers. While the formula is old hat (two guitars, bass, drums), the songs are straight up fun to listen to. Anybody familiar with Ride's "Leave Them All Behind" could probably predict that the opening guitar effects on "Semaphore" (no relation to Fridge) merely hint towards the bombastic arrival of all the other instruments. About 2/3 of the way through, however, the song takes an unexpected turn and speeds headlong through the finish line. Continuing on with that same motion, the peppy, punchy "Point That Thing Somewhere Else," originally by the Clean, is the only vocal track on the disc. The energy completely drops after that for the improvised noise of "The Bunnies Are Tough," which, honestly could have been either avoided or completely exploited. The closer, "I Wouldn't Hurt a Fly," opens with the serene sounds of wonderfully delayed guitars (you know, the kinds mama used to make) but is soon shattered by the loudness factor again. With two minutes left, the track gets completely fucked up. I can't tell if this is intentional or a complete glitch as it happens on all of my CD players. Look for this Seattle four-piece on tour with Acid Mothers Temple right now and try your damndest to track down any of their older recordings. (Best of f'n luck.)
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Hefty
It should come as no surprise that the album Hefty gets this year from Marco Haas as T. Raumschmiere is considerably more cerebral and noticably less ass-pounding as the one from Shitkatapult (see Sept. 29th's issue). The puffy thump of the bass kick is present again (deep enough to blow a hole in your speakers if you're not careful). This time around, however, deep listening has replaced sleazy listening, as the chunky, sweaty basslines that littered 'Rock N' Roll Swindle' are noticably absent. Taking the center stage are more hypnotic samples, breathy noises, clicks, ticks, and soft keyboard sounds. Songs take longer to develop for the most part as one by one, sounds are gracefully trickled in. Unlike the omnipresent relentless motion of the unlikely companion, this album takes a few noticable pauses here and there, driven by short beat-free moments. They're quick enough to catch your breath, but are abruptly dropped when the throb of songs like "Dual Kanal" make their presence known. If 'Swindle' is the album that brings you to that extra-special level of throbbing ecstasy, this album is pefrectly suitable for the transition into the coming-down afterwards. It's perfect for the car ride home as you race to beat the sunrise of the next day.
It should come as no surprise that the album Hefty gets this year from Marco Haas as T. Raumschmiere is considerably more cerebral and noticably less ass-pounding as the one from Shitkatapult (see Sept. 29th's issue). The puffy thump of the bass kick is present again (deep enough to blow a hole in your speakers if you're not careful). This time around, however, deep listening has replaced sleazy listening, as the chunky, sweaty basslines that littered 'Rock N' Roll Swindle' are noticably absent. Taking the center stage are more hypnotic samples, breathy noises, clicks, ticks, and soft keyboard sounds. Songs take longer to develop for the most part as one by one, sounds are gracefully trickled in. Unlike the omnipresent relentless motion of the unlikely companion, this album takes a few noticable pauses here and there, driven by short beat-free moments. They're quick enough to catch your breath, but are abruptly dropped when the throb of songs like "Dual Kanal" make their presence known. If 'Swindle' is the album that brings you to that extra-special level of throbbing ecstasy, this album is pefrectly suitable for the transition into the coming-down afterwards. It's perfect for the car ride home as you race to beat the sunrise of the next day.
samples:
Tiger Style
Quick, my cat's purring, grab the microphone! Seriously, I'm continually impressed with Karla Schickele's songwriting and singing abilities, both as an integral piece of Ida, and as the boss here as K. Shickele's lyrics never sound anything less than painfully honest, and never, for once, are they remotely predictable or trite. On this, the second K album, the musical styles vary so greatly that I'm unfortunately having a hard time at certain points being completely won over musically. The broken continuity works amazingly well in the powerful "Crush Mine," as the magical superglue that seems to hold most rock songs together (the drummer) is showing strong desires for an improvisational angle. The country twang of the steel guitar on "I Am Not Willing," and "Everybody Knows Your Name," however, seems almost forced and unnatural. Instrumental diversions like the metronome, guitar and gong sounds on "More Than Wanted" are warmly welcome while the bangy-bangy piano on "Keep Your Eyes on the Road" simply grates on my nerves. Songs like "Ballad" and "Bounty" are destined to become fan favorites, as they're both bleedingly emotional and have the sound of a band who is in perfect synergy with each other. K is on the road right now, and while I might not have given this album the highest marks, K's shows have never let me down.
Quick, my cat's purring, grab the microphone! Seriously, I'm continually impressed with Karla Schickele's songwriting and singing abilities, both as an integral piece of Ida, and as the boss here as K. Shickele's lyrics never sound anything less than painfully honest, and never, for once, are they remotely predictable or trite. On this, the second K album, the musical styles vary so greatly that I'm unfortunately having a hard time at certain points being completely won over musically. The broken continuity works amazingly well in the powerful "Crush Mine," as the magical superglue that seems to hold most rock songs together (the drummer) is showing strong desires for an improvisational angle. The country twang of the steel guitar on "I Am Not Willing," and "Everybody Knows Your Name," however, seems almost forced and unnatural. Instrumental diversions like the metronome, guitar and gong sounds on "More Than Wanted" are warmly welcome while the bangy-bangy piano on "Keep Your Eyes on the Road" simply grates on my nerves. Songs like "Ballad" and "Bounty" are destined to become fan favorites, as they're both bleedingly emotional and have the sound of a band who is in perfect synergy with each other. K is on the road right now, and while I might not have given this album the highest marks, K's shows have never let me down.
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Lex
The year was 2001. I was in Columbubs, Ohio selling merchandise for a touring band when I only briefly shook hands with a friend of the guitarist, a really charming young gentleman named Brian. The following year, I was completely blown away by the sounds Brian (as Boom Bip) was generating in collaboration with the rap of Dose One in a small concert in Boston. I look back on that one concert night with fond memories as the sound was loud and the feeling was wonderful. Later on that year, he released his album, "Seed to the Sun." After Hollywood caught wind of the phenomenal breakthrough, he was soon composing film scores left and right and nobody ever heard from Brian again. His success was rightfully deserved, however. On the first seconds of that album he wowed the crowd by his sharp sense of musical composition, structure, playing abilities and production smarts, with an electronically-based driving beat layered by live bass guitar playing and thoroughly enjoyable musical progressions. From track to track, the feeling varied (ear-tingling beat-less digital drones of "Pules All Over," a campy drunken trumpet calliope on the brief "Newly Weds," a raspy rap by Buck 65 on "The Unthinkable," and the nasal, beat-poetry prose of Dose One on, "Mannequin Hand Trapdoor I Reminder") but the consistency never faltered. Influenced by hip-hop beats, New Order-esque high-fretboard bass guitar playing, synth pop, sampleadelics and space rock, Boom Bip was indeed a well-rounded child, albeit a bit unfocused at times, yet impressively talented.
The year was 2001. I was in Columbubs, Ohio selling merchandise for a touring band when I only briefly shook hands with a friend of the guitarist, a really charming young gentleman named Brian. The following year, I was completely blown away by the sounds Brian (as Boom Bip) was generating in collaboration with the rap of Dose One in a small concert in Boston. I look back on that one concert night with fond memories as the sound was loud and the feeling was wonderful. Later on that year, he released his album, "Seed to the Sun." After Hollywood caught wind of the phenomenal breakthrough, he was soon composing film scores left and right and nobody ever heard from Brian again. His success was rightfully deserved, however. On the first seconds of that album he wowed the crowd by his sharp sense of musical composition, structure, playing abilities and production smarts, with an electronically-based driving beat layered by live bass guitar playing and thoroughly enjoyable musical progressions. From track to track, the feeling varied (ear-tingling beat-less digital drones of "Pules All Over," a campy drunken trumpet calliope on the brief "Newly Weds," a raspy rap by Buck 65 on "The Unthinkable," and the nasal, beat-poetry prose of Dose One on, "Mannequin Hand Trapdoor I Reminder") but the consistency never faltered. Influenced by hip-hop beats, New Order-esque high-fretboard bass guitar playing, synth pop, sampleadelics and space rock, Boom Bip was indeed a well-rounded child, albeit a bit unfocused at times, yet impressively talented.
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If I didn't know both the name of this band and their album title, I honestly would have guessed they recorded this with the full intention of creating a overpoweringly bright image of a glass lense amplifying the sun's light to such an unbearable degree, that everything else in sight becomes a mush of yellowy wash. Hold your hand up to your face but you still can't block the intensity.
Morr Music
The name of this musical act should give you a clue about it. Unfortunately the guitar recordings are the most redeemable part of this album. Guitar is the musical project of somebody who refuses to be known as anything other than Digital Jockey. He (this is just a guess here) has a real mastery of guitar effects and layering which is wonderful to listen to, but has been done for years since that unavoidable reference point, My Bloody Valentine. In addition, he has enlisted vocalist Donna Regina on a couple songs and Ayako Akashiba on a few others. While this album will most certainly go over very well with anybody obsessed with 'Loveless' and/or thick-accented Asian girls singing in Enlish, the lyrics are so irritating some times that I can barely make it through each song. "Honey bee, me and me, see sea, bee and me" over and over and over and over again (with two appearances even) gives me frightening visions of Asian girls with long fingernails, digging deep into my skin to climb up my body and chew my eyeballs out. Admittedly, I was enthusiastic about this album after hearing the rich guitar and simple drum sounds of "House Full of Time" on 'Blue Skied an' Clear,' but sadly, that has become the only song remotely bearable to my ears any more.
The name of this musical act should give you a clue about it. Unfortunately the guitar recordings are the most redeemable part of this album. Guitar is the musical project of somebody who refuses to be known as anything other than Digital Jockey. He (this is just a guess here) has a real mastery of guitar effects and layering which is wonderful to listen to, but has been done for years since that unavoidable reference point, My Bloody Valentine. In addition, he has enlisted vocalist Donna Regina on a couple songs and Ayako Akashiba on a few others. While this album will most certainly go over very well with anybody obsessed with 'Loveless' and/or thick-accented Asian girls singing in Enlish, the lyrics are so irritating some times that I can barely make it through each song. "Honey bee, me and me, see sea, bee and me" over and over and over and over again (with two appearances even) gives me frightening visions of Asian girls with long fingernails, digging deep into my skin to climb up my body and chew my eyeballs out. Admittedly, I was enthusiastic about this album after hearing the rich guitar and simple drum sounds of "House Full of Time" on 'Blue Skied an' Clear,' but sadly, that has become the only song remotely bearable to my ears any more.
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