February 11, 2023 at 6:34 pm | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
Bruce Licher: Exploratorium
Bruce Licher of Savage Republic and Scenic recorded these pieces on a 4-track in 1997 and originally released them on a limited 3″ CDr mounted on a 12″ sheet of heavy card stock letterpress. This is a proper CD reissue with a lengthy bonus track, but still containing fancy packaging, including postcards for each track. The original tracks are gliding space rock guitar solo excursions, with “Going Home” being the most awestruck, conveying a feeling of blissfully travelling at light speed towards one’s destiny without having the slightest notion of danger. “The Penstemon Field” is a much more dramatic and melodic piece which (to me) approximates a devastating trek home through the rainy streets at night. “Number 09” is vastly different than the other tracks, though it was recorded around the same time. Instead of guitar-based drifting, this is a wild synth expedition, with legions of echo and delay making the sequences feeling like they’re constantly crumbling and rebuilding, stretching a prismatic fortress throughout space.
February 5, 2023 at 11:54 am | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
Meadow Argus: This Old Rotten Barge tape
The
newest Meadow Argus tape is the project’s most evocative recording yet, making the listener feel like a stowaway on a haunted ship on the path to total disappearance from civilization. The album extensively incorporates field recordings run through a delay pedal, with the first stretch of the first side taken from the banks of the Ohio river under a bridge, while a spooky backwards voice bleeds through from the other side of the master tape. Then there’s “It’ll heal over”, taken from a hospital hallway while being wheeled in for surgery. The echoed voices, unsteady tape quality, and wavering melodic loop all present feelings of displacement, not being able to believe any of this is happening, not being fully there. “Just like the skim that shines across the humps and the swells of the tide waters”, which takes up all of side B, is a bit calmer, with samples taken from an aquarium lapping up against the patient organ droning. There’s sounds of children being amazed at the sea life, and some distant playing and shrieking which gets twisted and whirled into the stream. Some unexplained explosions which sound like cannon blasts are audible near the end, yet that part feels like a memory rather than a document of something actually occurring.
February 4, 2023 at 12:37 pm | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
Longmont Potion Castle: 20
Sometimes when LPC calls someone, they seem to think he’s talking about someone they know, and there’s a spark of recognition, which leads into a more engaged conversation. This happens early on during the newest LPC album, when he mentions someone named Crazy Face and makes up the very fake-sounding name Ralphred, and the other guy thinks he’s talking about his neighbor, Glen. Those parts are pretty cool. He actually manages to convince someone that he’s talking to his own son at one point, and only gives vague answers, acting surprised when the other guy relays the “wait for it” news that the person he just talked to has a monkey and wants to move in soon. Any of the parts when he makes the person on the other line laugh are always good fun. I will always love the incomprehensible jargon calls; “Pig Metal” is a prime example of that, where he just rattles off a stream of technical terms about metallurgy and confounds the person on the other end. The call when he says his name is “Freaky Bucky” and goes on about an “orb within an orb” and then plays on his “new banjo” is a hoot. In one of the most surreal LPC calls ever, he tries to convince a bunch of people that he’s about to setting off some holograms down the street, so they should stay inside their homes for a few hours, and there’s a chance that the holograms might travel through windows, but they can’t walk through walls or doors. Other types of LPC calls are best in moderation, and they’re more abundant on his recent albums. The ones when he connects a tree of businesses to each other, none of whom have any clue why they’re talking to each other, and he edits out his own voice and just leaves his reactions, those can be amazing sometimes, but can also wear out their welcome after a while. He has a whole bunch of people talking to each other about someone claiming their cigars have exploded, and somehow they find themselves talking to beer distributors in other states. There’s also a LOT of times on this album where he talks to someone and then patches in a crotchety old Jewish man that’s appeared on lots of other LPC albums before, but seems to turn up on most of these calls. He pretty much says the same thing every call (i.e. screaming that the other person is a criminal and full of shit, shit, shit!!!!!) except the one when he’s connected with cops who appear to be investigating the problem, in which case the bootlicker is patient, cooperative and respectful. “Clashettes” is a little different, though. It’s a medley of older-sounding LPS calls strung together with tape rewinding sounds. None of them sound familiar to me, so maybe they’re outtakes or unreleased calls. The way the rewinding sounds occur, and the title of the track itself, made me think he was going to try to mash the calls together and do something weirder with them, but it sounds pretty interesting the same. “Aardvark”, however, is pretty much a redux of the bookstore calls on the last album or two, it could very well just be additional material from the same series of calls. Also, I’m both amused and terribly annoyed by the guy on “Normal Jarvis” who repeatedly asks “what’s your real name?”, not realizing how dopey he sounds. Like a lot of LPC albums, especially the more recent ones, this one might require some judicious editing on the part of the listener, but there’s some incredible, mind-expanding stuff on here when he’s at his most inspired.
January 29, 2023 at 4:14 pm | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
Michel Banabila: Singles (2020-2022)
Michel Banabila has been releasing various forms of experimental music for 40 years; his discography is vast and difficult to categorize.
This album consists of various digital singles he’s released so far this decade, almost all of which are collaborations. Solo track “Orbital Resonance” opens the set and couldn’t be more accurately titled, from its flickering, spaced-out intro to its subtly hypnotic loops. Bill Laswell guests on “The Woods”, with Alex Haas, a lengthy soundscape which seems to approximate both whale calls and life in the wilderness. The more percussive “Yek Nefes” features Cengiz Arslanpay’s ney flute playing along with a gentle rainfall of drums. Jeff Greinke appears on “Lattitude and Longitude”, which has stunning sound design and some of the stranger sounds on this CD. Two tracks with Ümlaut and Salar Asid feature eerie-sounding Kurdish violin; the first has sparse percussion and enchanting bass grooves, while the second is much heavier on splashing, waving percussion. Robert Jarvis’ trombone playing on the next two tracks imitate the pitches of speaking voices, resulting in some wild cadences. “An Agreement of Sorts” sounds more chatty and conversational while “A Disagreement of Sorts” is more drawn out at first but eventually becomes a bewildering collage of crossed wires and multiplied sounds. “States of Consciousness” with Gareth Davis is one of the more deliberately confusing tracks here, a musique concrete-style composition with numerous sound fragments clashing together, as well as mutated bass clarinet, animal sounds (I think?), and car alarms. Finally, the nearly 10-minute “Oblong Hobnob” has playful turntable interruptions and whistles, as well as rich harmonium drones. It would be a soothing ambient piece if it wasn’t for all the strange and wonderful sounds fluttering around, transforming into something else.
Michel Banabila: Hidden Patterns
is another compilation of Michel Banabila’s recent work, dating back to 2008, and including more collaborations and music from film soundtracks. The whole release actually has a very cinematic feel, with poignant acoustic melodies which seem like they’re underpinning pivotal scenes of self-discovery and realization. It starts out with two brief solo pieces which are ethereal, piano-based, and if not ominous, then at least beckoning things to come. Oene van Geel’s violin gives several other pieces a strong sense of longing, and Anton Goudsmit’s guitar playing on the version of “Ears Tell Us Where We Are in Space” brings the sound closer to ECM-style jazz. “Secunde (CJD Remix)” is a 13-minute epic with murmuring voices and an acoustic bassline which resembled oar strokes pushing a boat down a canal. “Sounds from an Unforgettable Place 1” has more distruptive electronic beats stamping and rattling away, along with haunting vocals. A few other following tracks incorporate sounds that may or may not be vocals of some sort, be they synthetic or manipulated, making it seem like the machines and instruments are speaking. Finally, “One Moment in Time” is another lengthy, peaceful gondola drift filled with subtle murmurs, resonant guitar strums, and slowly blossoming synth swells.
January 22, 2023 at 5:08 pm | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
David Barnes: Pieces
David Barnes has released over three dozen recordings since he first began making tapes in the late ’80s.
This album incorporates recordings made back then, as well as newer instrumentation and compositions, and it’s an inventive, genreless set of tracks that cut across time and space. “Pragmatica” merges Charles Cohen’s Buchla synth playing with breakbeats blasting from the past, found object percussion, and wisping guitar solos. “Autumn Col Legno” features violas played with drumsticks along with guitars and pianos, somehow conjuring up mental images of boats drifting about in a shore. “Artesian Rhythms” is more of a homemade Fourth World exploration, with African instrumentation mixed with iPad synths, sampled drums, more found instrument percussion, and many other sounds. “Woodland Meadow” is a zither-based drone that inevitably brings to mind Laraaji, and “The Bells of Vauxi” also seems to find spiritual peace within nature, though in a slightly more psychedelic way. “Traveling Song” is a more rustic but still gently atmospheric violin-based piece. “Hovering Above” is a more cinematic, guitar-heavy psych-drone, while “Adagio for 2020” is a more ethereal neo-classical piece made more haunting with some whistling and vocals. Finally, “A Taste of Lavender” is a change of pace in the form of a bit of a live psych rock jam recorded in the ’80s, with newer guitar parts seamlessly layered on top.
January 17, 2023 at 8:45 pm | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
The newest Constellation Tatsu batch focuses on more beat-driven material, and the most high-profile artist of the three is Kranky alumni Strategy. Graffiti in Space is a dub voyage from the farthest realms. “Fountain of Youth” is full of heavyweight bass pressure, yet it’s absolutely weightless; it’s a strange sensation and there’s little to compare it to. “Message from Ouroboros” adds thumping kicks and a bassline, but feels fluid and lava lamp-like. “In Space No One Can Hear Your Screen” is both minimal and deep, with a particular drum tone guiding the way and bass pushing everything else down into blank space.
December 11, 2022 at 4:23 pm | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
Galactapus: The Rainbows of Wrong
The anonymous, costumed, studio-bound ensemble from Minneapolis known as
Galactapus are not the funk-metal monstrosity their name might suggest. Instead, they’re (obviously) akin to the likes of Residents, Caroliner, and Sun City Girls, but the music ranges anywhere from acid-fried synth-garage-punk to freak-folk. “Your Face Is Inside Out and Your Wig Is On Fire” makes a majestic, sprawling intro, then “The Lustful Arts” is awash in mutant voices, cauldron bubbling, and mystical acoustic stringed instruments. “Giftworm” is an audiophonic trip filled with sinister, forward-reverse vocal effects and thumb pianos. “Radio Kolossos” feels like it’s going to be a more straightforward garage rocker, but it splinters into different cosmic fragments and gets carried along by throbbing synth sequences and dislocated claps and gang vocals. “Anal” is more of a dream scene involving haunted, bird-filled forests and fields. “Magic Clowns” and “Marshmallow Law” are two of the more aggressive songs here, closer to the band’s own spin on punk. “Turning Into a Boob” is another multi-part epic, which moves from lo-fi synth dazzle to primitive electro-rock. Finally, “It’s Over When We Say It’s Over” is a shimmering mood piece with hand drums and perhaps a melodica, and it ends up with a spirited coda filled with sitars and spirited chanting.
December 8, 2022 at 6:40 pm | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
Shells: Outside tape
Shelley Salant’s
newest tape was recorded in her Detroit backyard last September, and it has a breezy feel as if it’s been picked up by the early autumn breeze and it’s just suspended in the sky. It’s a little like the longform pieces of
Another Time from a few years ago. Her guitar playing just floats up and cycles, with gentle effects pulling the notes in different directions or prolonging the reveries. It’s quite scruffy and homespun, definitely the type of release that makes sense on a cassette. It’s very easy to just lose track of time listening to this. She already released a record called
In a Cloud, but this one evokes that feeling even more.
November 27, 2022 at 2:57 pm | Posted in Reviews | Leave a comment
Fadensonnen: Mirror/Creeper 1-sided LP
This Illinois noise-rock group’s
newest vinyl release is a 20-minute slab of bleary, half-conscious confusion, with a stylophone. Starting with the drunken whirl of “Dekadence Ballet”, we’re flung into waves of lurching bass grooves and indecipherable vocals. The title track has a refreshing blanket of noise, and “Flophouse Waltz” is closer to mutated classic rock “Strollin'” is a haunted garage band trying to keep it together, and it has the same “what speed is this supposed to be playing?” feel as records by all those bands people were calling “shitgaze” 13 years ago.
November 25, 2022 at 6:12 pm | Posted in Reviews | 2 Comments
TISM: Collected Versus
The newest release from Negativland’s Seeland label is a double CD
anthology of a long-running Australian band called TISM (This Is Serious Mum). Going into this, I was expecting them to be some sort of mega-obscure experimental outfit that had loads of cassettes and maybe an actual record or two. Turns out this band was actually quite popular in their home country, even scoring a Top 10 gold-selling album in the ’90s. Musically, it’s very peppy, hook-filled dance-rock with bitterly funny lyrics that make fun of absolutely everything. Much of their music is filled with hyper-specific references to local culture that won’t make sense to anyone who isn’t Australian (or even from outside of Melbourne), but it’s easy to amused just by the absurdity of it all. Much like groups such as Sparks, Ween, and Captain Ahab, this is very much a band you have to get, but if you get it, they’re brilliant at what they do. The first disc of this compilation contains all their singles in chronological order. “40 Years – Then Death” appears early on, and it seems like a much more serious reflection on the brevity of life than their other songs. Besides that, though, it’s loaded with songs about subjects like Led Zeppelin’s drug provider, Martin Scorcese, wanting to quit the band and start a family, and Fred Durst as the messiah. The sound evolves from new wave to thrashy breakbeat techno, and I think they were at their best when they embraced techno-pop in the ’90s. I guess Chumbawamba is a good comparison, except TISM never had a moment of universal ubiquity. The more sample-driven tracks are definitely on the same wavelength as the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu (aka the KLF), and I’ve never listened to Half Man Half Biscuit, but they seem to have a similar sense of humor in regards to song titles. Also, I know I’ve heard someone, most likely Negativland, sample the unforgettable intro to “(He’ll Never Be An) Ol’ Man River”, which goes “I’m on the drug that killed River Phoenix!” And “Garbage” is an amazing song against classic rock and the endless recycling of nostalgia. The second disc tells much more of the TISM story, with another 80 minutes of fan favorites. This includes a long rant against Jim Morrison, a cheerful sounding pop song about clubbing seals, several songs and rants about how life is shit, and a rant against rave culture from an aging rocker (though I’m not sure why Elastica is mentioned, they were clearly a rock band. But I guess to a middle-aged grizzled dude who loves pub rock, they would’ve sounded close enough to dance music). Finally, the band throws themselves into the landfill with the rocket-powered rave-up “TISM Are Shit”. A fun discovery for the rest of the world; their
Wikipedia page is worth a perusal as well.
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The Answer Is In The Beat 