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Secretly CanadianThis brief, three-song EP is being released as a spacer to tide fansover until the new Antony and the Johnsons full-length album I Am A Bird Nowis released February of next year. New material from NYC's premieretorch-song singing androgyne is long overdue, the artist not havingreleased any new material since 2002's I Fell In Love With A Dead BoyEP, and no full-length since his superlative 1999 debut on Durtro. Inthese intervening years, Antony's cult of adoration has grownconsiderably, with established NYC artists Lou Reed and his wife LaurieAnderson promoting the artist, playing a number of shows together.Antony has made guest vocal appearances on two of Lou Reed's recentalbums, and he contributes vocals to campy queer troubadour RufusWainwright's most recent album Want Two. It seems that success has agreed with Antony, as the songs and lyrics on The Lakeevidence a decidedly more positive outlook than the depressing songsuite of his first album. According to Antony, "The Horror Has Gone,""That terror was not fright/but a tremulous delight," and "I feel thatheat/And I know it's love." There are no more rivers of sorrow orHitlers in his heart, I suppose. Even despite my usual preference formelancholy, The Lake EP is a terrific little taster, all threesongs showcasing the singer/songwriter/arranger at the very height ofhis craft. The title track will be recognizable to those who have heardthe Current 93/Antony split Live at St. Olave's Church EP, a moving adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's mysterious lyric poem. I'm not sure if it's a coincidence that Lou Reed's The Raven,a dire concept album about the decadent author, coincided with Antony'sfascination with Poe, but either way it's a beautiful song, though Iprefer slightly the simpler arrangement and vocal style of the earlierlive recording. "Fistful of Love" is the EP's centerpiece: an upbeat,jazzy number about the fear of admitting you're in love in someone. LouReed does a guest vocal spot on the EP, contributing some terse spokenlyrics and electric guitar. It's one of Antony's busiest arrangements,with a full brass section and a distinct rock vibe, but he pulls it offbrilliantly. The final track is the brief, delicate "The Horror HasGone," in which Antony celebrates the passing of a deep depression,playing the piano, accompanied by Julia Kent's beautiful cello. I'vebeen enjoying this EP thoroughly, and it affirms what many peoplealready know: Antony's voice is one of the most amazingly expressiveinstruments around. Those who don't get it, never will; those who loveit, will always come back for more.
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PierosAranos is a master of the stringed instrument, a frequent collaboratorwith fellow Irish countryside dweller Steven Stapleton, and the creatorof a string of idiosyncratic experimental albums that, like most greatworks of art, defy categorization. This solo full-length is thefollow-up to 2001's Magnificent! Magnificent! No One Knows the Final Word,an album unique not only for its unconventional musical content andhomegrown organic packaging, but also for its "experimental anarchydistribution," a sort of honor system where Aranos shipped the album athis expense to anyone who wanted it, asking each listener to decide howmuch the album was worth. Tangomango continues down the same path as Magnificent,but somehow manages to be even more willfully eccentric. Lovelypassages of emotively played strings are overdubbed with shambolicpercussion, occasional forays into electronics of uncertain origin andAranos' gravelly vocals, free-associating long strings of unhingedDadaesque lyrical couplets. Aranos creates a one-man chamber quartet,overdubbing layers of plucked and bowed violin, viola and double bass,his melodies fondly recalling the Eastern European gypsy music idiomsof his heritage. Sometimes the effect is a sort of avant-garde chamberpop, as on "Julio Cruz," which sounds not entirely unlike mid-1970sJohn Cale. Other times, Aranos' techniques are so unorthodox that themusic sounds like nothing else, as with the strange organickaleidescope created on "All The Lost Turbans Will Be On That Speaker,"which utilizes musique concr?e effects to create an unsettling piece ofpsychedelic tape music. On "Worryism," the album's only guest player,Jon Whitney (editor of this rag), contributes a series of distendedbleats on a didgeridoo, forming the foundation for a distinctlyritualistic excursion that ends Tangomango on a somber note.Halfway through the oddly named "69 Walton's Yamamoto Noodles," Aranosstrikes the gong and unleashes a series of mindbending electronicpulses. "Broken Eights" is a fractured military ode constructed frommartial drums and layers of vacillated vocal overdubs. The album'stitle could not be more appropriate, as Aranos is able to reference theimprovisatory feel of Can's masterpiece, while impregnating it with hisown organic sense of rhythm. It's a little bit fun, and a little bitfruity. The album comes packaged in a lovely handmade royal purple silkpurse with a beaded clasp and a lyric booklet adorned with manybeautiful photographs. Tangomango is a rare album that trulyfeels like a pure, unmediated foray into one man's peculiar and joyfulvision of music, and it's a rewarding trip at that.
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A record like this always sounds as though it belongs to a room full of neon lights, smoke, and half-faded memories. There's always something lingering just beneath the surface and it's never quite pretty, but it's always engaging: just like a dirty secret. These are the first images that come to mind when I hear the slinky guitars, winding percussion, and the organic production. Having an organic sound is the best way to describe each track on Jealousy and Diamond: guitars fade into and out of each other, strange and warm hums permeate each instance of every sound, and the percussion more or less blurs the line between melodic and completely percussive instruments.Kranky
The names Martin Brandlmayer, Werner Dafeldecker, and Dean Roberts have been popping up quite a lot, lately. They are names I have come to associate with excellent music and while they haveve been playing together in various forms for some time now, this is the first record where they've come together as true trio. Their time together has obviously benefitted them as a band. The vocals are, for the most part, submerged in the radiation of the music; they are present but almost entirely indistinct. The sound of Roberts' voice only adds to the ghostly signature written all over the album. A track like "In Your Absence from the Street" illustrates the way sounds become more like wisps of smoke with Autistic Daughters than anything else. The drums quietly pop and rustle beneath the rumble of the bass and the ceaseless rolling of strings buzzing and guitars lighting themselves on fire and burning in slow motion. The album is deceptively diverse and doesn't rely on any one formula to carry itself from beginning to end. "The Glasshouse and the Gift-Horse" sounds as though it's going to slide by without a hint of resistance before a wind picks up and sends the whole song tumbling through the air, moaning and turning at the will of shaking guitars and stuttering drums. All the music sounds drunk. It's as though it's rumbling backwards through time in an attempt to find out how the hell everything went so long. It's depressing and forlorn, but not desperate. The contemplative edge it exhibits is almost disturbing in and of itself - the essence of each song is voyeuristic and careful. Perhaps Roberts has some demons he wants to exercise without letting everyone see them. Whatever the case, the trance-like glow surrounding this album (it being a result of the excellent music within) is addicting. The slow pace and easy resignation that sits at its heart sound beautiful, if not just slightly uneasy and sad.
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MushThis collection of reworked versions of Marc Bianchi's 2003 albumincludes remixes that stay close to his original versions as well asadventurous deconstructions. By keeping the same running order as theoriginal LP, the set is much more listenable than many remix projects,as there is only one version of each track. By selecting a group ofremixers that are likeminded, he has ensured that the album won't straytoo far from various combinations of pop music and electronica. Thisworks to the advantage and disadvantage of the set. The Album Leaf doesaway with the chaotic beat programming of "The Young Machines" andinstead offers a pleasant, but ultimately uneventful melodic electronicversion. Arab Strap's take on "Something To Do With My Hands" is thebest example of a new version that keeps the structure of the originalsong intact, while improving upon its arrangement. The beat they haveused in place of the original's is simply much better, placing the songin a more contemporary setting. Interestingly, Arab Strap vocalistAidan Moffat has resisted the temptation to add his own vocals to thisremix, as he has done to others in the past. The Stereolab version of"Girl Problem" is the most deconstructed, recontextualized track of theset. It's hard to tell if they've used any sounds from the originaltrack at all. They have added what sounds like organ, drums, and allmanner of strange analog keyboard sounds, and in the process have madea better track than anything on their own last few albums. Thejuxtaposition of Bianchi's lyrics "I've got a girl problem; I've got adrug problem..." against this absurdist backdrop of bleeps and organbursts goes miles toward downplaying his often overly emotionalleanings. Super Furry Animals take on "Sleepy California" is a case inwhich a similar juxtaposition is less successful, as they have setdepressing lyrics about a dying grandmother to silly, bouncy music. Sixof the ten remixers have kept the original's vocals intact,highlighting the importance of storytelling in Her Space Holiday songs.To their credit, none of the remixers have used repeated vocalfragments, which are often annoying. Matmos and Blockhead havecompletely removed the vocals from their respective remixes of "TechRomance" and "Meet The Pressure." They both offer excellent, highlydeconstructed pieces based on a few elements from the original. Thebeautiful, weepy strings which Matmos have used as a key element intheir instrumental version of "Tech Romance" prove that Bianchi doesn'talways need to rely on direct lyrics to strike an emotional chord inhis listeners. While it may have been interesting to hear a few actsless familiar than these pop/electronica sympathizers try to remixtracks, it may have disrupted the flow of the album. By choosing areliable, if slightly conservative, group of remixers, this album hasturned out to be a highly enjoyable companion piece to The Young Machines.
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Schumacher is an artist for whom the passage between sound installation, performance pieces, and isolated recorded works has been an increasingly fluid process. His first release since last year's lauded Room Pieces, Stories covers much of the same thematic ground, confusing concepts of atmospheric, incidental sound "events" with the markers of a scripted, real-time performance. Here, Schumacher's interest is an exploration of the narrative urges latent in musical composition and the expansion of these urges, as both the context in which a piece emerges, and the way a piece is constructed, are shown to be fragmented, multifarious.
Making the artist's job easier is a new lushness, previously unavailable in his music and not the result of an increased density of the stereo field but, rather, of an exploded range of sounds. String and horn sections, multiple percussionists, vocalists, guitarists, even a bass clarinetist join Schumacher's typically synthesized piano and guitar mastery, all to be subsumed, like most of Room Pieces, by a computer's "random" fragmentation and regeneration functions. The results are four lengthy fields or towers (to use the cover's analogy) of sounds, grouped at a staggered, stuttered, and loosely over-lapping pace. The true randomness of the pieces' construction becomes doubtful as bits of playing or tone color get accentuated and repeated to establish the relationships responsible for any kind of "story" that develops. The computer's presence does allow for a juxtaposition of context, however, in that it submits a reorganization or restructuring of real-time, often improvised instrumentation. Also, the machine's flattening-out and stratification of such a large, presumably interactive ensemble of musicians removes traces of any original intent, player dynamics, or acoustic relationship within a performed piece. Narrative is not developed explicitly through the additive layering process (nearly obscured by so much digital splicing) but through a series of abstract visitations: chirping, sunny static augmented by the sound of a violin struggling to get up; a synthetic tap-drip turning to labored footsteps, then to a guitar's white noise drawl; Schumacher's stately piano intoning over dim hospital noise, a fake heart's pulse. The cast of story-tellers produce a kind of flowery, electrical ambience that reminds me Tod Dockstader's early work or recent pieces by Olivia Block. The same buzzing, life-seeking atmosphere fills Schumacher's rooms and creates, in shuffled panoramic, his stories. There is something that feels melancholic or even a little old-fashioned about the moodiest moments here, constructs of disembodied female croons, floated piano chords, distant radiophonic voices, and disappearing drones. I feel as if wandering a lost city corner, among half-abandoned high-rises and century-old shacks, their inhabitants and technology ringing in a song of life and existence where no story rises above the rest, and hidden stories of the past speak out. Schumacher's compositions are like electric bubbles of experience, fused in molecular netting and thick in the air of any room. To witness such music in an installation setting might even be harmful, producing only sensory overload or a reluctant linkage to visual media. Regardless, Stories is an example of Schumacher's talent as telling as any I've heard, a strong addition to the catalogs of both artist and label.
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WillowtipIt's pretty much impossible these days to spit in any direction at aNorth American metal/hardcore festival and miss some band for whom AtThe Gates' Slaughter of the Soul forms the backbone of their sound.While a well-intentioned and, while being disturbingly over-rated,solid album, most of the unlistenable trash that has been spewed forthas melodic death metal over the past decade can be traced back to thisone blip on the musical landscape. Thankfully, the merry men in Arsishave emerged from four years of relative obscurity in Virginia spentcrafting their debut album and what could easily be considered thefirst melodic death masterpiece of the 21st century. Gone are theclich? that have plagued all but a handful of bands, for they have beenreplaced by this amazing razor sharp, ultra catchy, simply wonderfulcollection of tunes that will have even the most modest of peoplelonging to grow their hair out, throw up the horns, and have a greattime trying to keep up. Setting the pace right out of the gate with theferocious "The Face of My Innocence," it becomes immediately clear thatthis isn't your older brother's death metal, but something completelyoriginal and without equal on the modern metal landscape. There is notone single recycled riff, not one slightly uninteresting passage, notone second where you might doubt that you are hearing something thathasn't been done before with this type of precision and raw power. Theyeven manage to make the usually snore-inducing verse-chorus-verse songstructure work on "Maddening Disdain" with Malone tapping out a playfulmelody over drummer Michael VanDyne's ever-steady double bassonslaught. A true original toeing the line between vicious andmischievous with an authoritative expertise that concedes to neither,"A Celebration of Guilt" truly is the definition of essential.
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The title comes from poet and mescaline-prophet Henri Michaux; it is his vision of standing in a rainstorm, its persistent torrents, rather than enacting cleansing or comfort, are instead divisive, penetrating the body towards a thunderous disintegration. "I was, and was not, I was caught yet I was lost, I was in a state of complete ubiquity. The thousands upon thousands of rustlings were my own thousand shatterings." Three recordings make up sound artist Seth Cluett's own homage to rain, one a field recording taken during a storm, the preceding two consecutive reworkings of the resulting master tape. Cluett presents the three parts in "reverse" order: the first was created last as a reinterpretation or a remembering of the second, which was performed as a live manipulation of the original tape, a performance guided by the artist's recollections of the experience of recording the source material, presented unchanged in the third section.Sedimental
I think some of the reasoning behind this sequence traces back to Cluett's continuing interest in the factor of the human presence, however passive, within an auditory environment. In its initial representation, the rainstorm comes twice removed from its physical or natural circumstance, so that by the end of the three sections an ultra-gradual transformation has occurred as the sound moves slowly back toward a presumably "pure", or actual manifestation. The artist's emphasis is on the way his own perception (as a physical presence acting within a space), or even the memory of his perceiving, come to effect his reactions to, or processing of, particular phenomena. Cluett uses Michaux's words to bring out the powerful and disarming qualities of rainfall, its infinite variety and its Zen-like totality, how it maps every surface with a thousand all-reaching arms, while in the same instant performing a complete white-out of the landscape, a wall of coagulated sound and blurry, impressionist vision. The glancing blows and shatterings that Michaux felt in the rain Cluett has obviously shared, and his "response" pieces try to simulate the water's dual personality. The artist establishes the rain's blanketing, everywhere-at-once quality in his use of the drone, a blank constancy slow to rise and fall but one which opens onto an inner world of speeding detail. The manipulated rainfall becomes a rich, organ-esque heaviness given the illusion of speed by the layering of purer sounding tones in slowly climactic modulation. Cluett describes being inspired by the excited movement of a glacier in Pakistan: "a very fast slow". The saturating effect of the disc's first two tracks is remarkable given the artist's limited resources and deliberate monotony; when played loud the outwardly placid drones ease into streaming patterns, relentless and pummeling, though also comforting in the way they hold the body and the room in edgeless reverberation. While the first section is the more dramatic, its tones breaking several times into peaks of throbbing feedback, the second segment is longer, slower and eventually more successful in recreating the rain's effect as an immersive soundworld of both dizzying speed and suspended landscape. This makes sense given the track sequence, as the second piece should theoretically be closer to the original experience of the rainstorm. When in the third section the rain and thunder arrive as originally captured, the recording interestingly fails to do justice to the captivating power explained by the first two. The familiarity of the sounds comes almost as a comfort after such intense precedents; however I will say that after sitting through all 15 min. of this rain, by the end I did feel a lot nearer to an open window, and wincing at the thunder for sure.
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- there is the fact of its bursting
- there is the fact of its plunging headlong
- there is the fact of its being torrential
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Now comes Audika's deluxe, remastered, expanded reissue of World of Echo, which in my opinion, stands as Arthur Russell's most fully realized masterpiece. Originally released in 1986 to very little fanfare, World of Echo is an inscrutably brilliant album of minimalist pop, Russell showcasing his unique method of singing and playing the cello simultaneously, a skill that he developed over years of private rehearsal. The album consists of 14 tracks of Russell playing and singing in his remarkably unique style, every track coated with gorgeous layers of feedback and reverb, with subtle undercurrents of electronic ambience forming an eerie, dislocated cushion of air, upon which the melodies float.
Rather than using drum machines or live percussion as he had done in the past, Russell opted for a nearly rhythm-less environment, the time signatures instead provided by a subtle implication in the pulls of his bow and the vacillations of his voice. The rhythm is never missed, though, because it's still there, living in the margins of Russell's distinct phrasing, his uncanny ability to suggest layers of complexity and harmony in deceptively simple melodies. The artist's unique use of echo reached its absolute zenith on this album, with the subtle play of delay joining each successive vocal phrase or plucked note to the next, creating an amorphous current of sound that answers each call like a quickly decaying chorus. Though most of the lyrics on World of Echo can be discerned, it seems clear that Russell was more interested in the shapes and sounds of words than creating a meaningful lyric, an intention that is made clear is Russell's brief liner notes. The artist connects with his dance music past with the inclusion of several songs which revisit his best disco sides—"Wax the Van," "Treehouse," and "Let's Go Swimming"—transforming them into painfully intimate echoes of his personal history. There are ripples and eddies and snaking jet streams on World of Echo, there are moments of an intensely confessional sexual nature, moments of sadness and of joy.
In addition to the remastered CD, which includes four bonus tracks from the same sessions as the original album, Audika has also included a bonus DVD containing two films by Phill Niblock - "Terrace of Unintelligibility" and "Some Imaginary Far Away Type Things." These films both showcase Arthur Russell performing material from the album in a series of tight close-ups, the camera traveling freely up and down the length of the cello, or across Russell's face, or onto the colored light-boxes that form the studio backdrop. It's a very appropriate visual accompaniment to Russell's music, giving glimpses at intriguing fragments, but never revealing the whole. Audika also deserves credit for a great packaging job, with both discs housed in a glossy foldout DVD case containing a beautiful color photo booklet. Taken together, album and film, the effect of World of Echo is narcotic, a hypnotic work of breathtakingly unique music that only grows in its otherworldly appeal as I gradually learn to negotiate its strange new lexicon of mysteriously unintelligible syllables and trancelike, resonant echoes.
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HymenThis album is a fine addition to the Hymen catalog. As the labeldoesn't issue new albums all the time, it is obvious that they areselective with regards to what they release. Having a high level ofstandards has paid off with Scatterheart,Benny Boysen's second release as Hecq. His sense of dynamics is a keyelement to his music's success. During "Doraccle" the shifts betweenloud and quiet are extreme, and help to sustain a level of tensionwithin the music. At 61 minutes the album is long, but the variety ofsounds and textures keeps the set interesting. The way Egyptianpercussion and pizzicato strings are used on "Flood Me" make it ahighlight of the album. His use of these unusual textures shows thathis influences are more varied than those of many electronic producers.Although Boysen is technically proficient at programming intricatebeats, he doesn't let the process become the focus of the music.Instead the set retains an emotional feel, although it often soundscold and mechanical. There is always an underlying drone or atmospherictexture that keeps the tracks grounded in human emotion. The openingtrack "FDK" begins with over a minute of droning, whirling tones beforethe beat kicks in. From this point on, the percussive patterns arejuxtaposed with the atmospheric elements. By focusing on one element orthe other, there is the possibility to listen with a different focuseach time. The inclusion of several short interludes consisting ofsampled dialogue also helps the set to retain a human quality. Thisseems to be a direct reference to the "skits" often featured betweenthe songs on hip hop albums. While many electronic acts talk of theinfluence hip hop has had on their work, Boysen has addressed thissubtly within the configuration of the album itself. The fact that thedialogue is from films also emphasizes Scatterheart's cinematicquality. Although there is a great amount of variance of sounds betweenthese tracks, they work well together as a whole and flow well into oneanother. Although there are many short tracks among the 23 featured,each seems to last long enough to effectively present an idea, withoutsounding unfinished. The running order is well organized, with "TBE,"the loudest, most chaotic track, placed at the halfway point. Thisshort track's noisy barrage of percussion balances the set perfectly.It's refreshing to find that although there are so many peopleproducing instrumental electronic music today, there is still thepossibility to create an album as fresh sounding as Scatterheart.
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