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Christian Science Minotaur Map 3 (of 9)
The Wire
Brainwashed Aside from what's put to tape, I know very little about Christian Science Minotaur. I do know one thing for certain: they have good taste in books. Proof is that they named all the songs after harpooners in Moby Dick. But as to why, I have no idea. Only the jibbering synth-drums on Daggoo approach the fierce literary paganism its namesake implies. As the opening track, it starts off gently with celestial chimes and skittering delay. It grows gradually with increasing tempo, finally working itself into a frenzy of pounding toms and warped ululations. Nothing else on the tape matches the song for strength, but thats because of the high mark it sets. Cut by the two sides of the cassette, "Tashtego bridges the gap between the heavy war whoops of "Daggoo" and the more diffuse second half. Heavy bass swells add tension mid-song, but those are quickly submerged the track's lunar soil. A sputtering clave beat keeps a quick tempo, but that too settles into the mire. True to his name, "Queequeg" is the odd one of the bunch, having no percussion in it at all. Instead, sweeps of tuned static billow and shake, slowly dissipating into a diamond mist. Listening to this tape is a pleasure, but it's a lonely one. At 100 copies, Map 3 (of 9) seems a meager gift to the music world. The number is an improvement over previous releases of 30 or 50 copies, but I wish Christian Science Minotaur had more ambition for the public's ear. Cassettes and 3 inch CDRs are great for curios, but don't release your best music on them.
Smooth Assailing this brooklyn duo is comprised of nat hawks (padna) and leo goldsmith (also of the pathways). nat runs the little fury things label, too. i'm not too sure about this whole map series (something about chronicling a messianic downfall that i just shook my head at), but i know believe that all of the maps are eps, and that this is the first cassette of the series. daggoo begins the cassette with howling, nighttime ambient sounds mingling with sparse organic and synthetic percussion as well as random electronic sounds and occasional understated manipulations. a couple of minutes later the track will be interrupted by periodic swoops of distorted guitar noise as all the additional electronic efforts are scraped for multiple layers of steady drumming (one panned to the left, the most authoritative one central) which conjures a tribal feel in conjunction with those memorable howling drones in the background. eventually, the drumming will change to a simple kick drum hit every two seconds, as the varied complimentary electronics are reintroduced. the last minute will scale back everything, ending with low end muffled affections. map 3 will go on to assume a very different feel for the remainder. the first side's closer tashtego(a) establishes a decidedly electronic vibe with the spaced out throb of drum machine snares paired with tapped cymbals that are soon joined by layered melancholic droning background ambiance. a little while later csm (or is it xsm?) add on a really great, slow melody that brings the track to its beautifully lulling peak. the combination of sounds that they began the song with will have dispersed by now as they attempt to bring in a new electronic rhythm, but in the early going it's just random beats and percussion that can't quite congeal into anything substantive, but also aren't intrusive enough to interfere with the niceness that they've got going for them. after a few minutes it'll finally form a solid uptempo rhythm, yet they won't tailor the track's tranquil mood to match the bpm. they will do away with their main melody during the last minute, as they tweak the speed and pattern (slightly) of the beat and also slip in some subtle guitar noise. the abrupt end of tashtego(a) (nearly) seamlessly turns into tashtego(b)... nearly because (b) is on the second side of the tape. you have auto-reverse, right? naturally, (b) carries on the way the first side ended with, at least for the first twenty seconds, then we get a nice (fractured) manipulated guitar melody to go along with the skittery rhythm and warm drones, though the percussion will be dropped a minute later, highlighting the auxiliary electronic sounds that were concealed underneath it. following that, (b) will continually become worn down, losing the superfluous layers, starting with the slow decay of the guitar. they'll use the death of those to play up their pleasing ambient sway. a little past the four minute mark is where i'm assuming queequeg kicks in, once they lose the ambient drones (replaced with ambient electronic layers that don't drone (as often)) and introduce, what seems to me like, humming amplifier / guitar noise, though it's fragmented heavily and occasionally packaged with other electronic sounds. once it breaks out of its initial jitteriness, i really like its lovely tremolo-ish distorted waves and how they'll sometimes pair those with synth tones that match the feel, but also provide a good contrast. christian science minotaur will almost come around full circle by bringing back the synthetic rhythm to end the tape. i enjoyed this quite a bit. in terms of what i've heard from peasant magik thus far, it seems like somewhat of a departure as map 3 is pretty accessible for the most part. i can easily see the two tashtego tracks having a broader cross-over appeal with people who like innocuous downtempo, yet catchy, electronic music (i think back to 2004-05 as a frame of reference). if that's really not your thing, though, i can't say that what christian science minotaur are doing here will win you over. i'm sure some people will be stoked on this. |
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Temples Bestial
Foxy Digitalis Each side of this approximately 40 minute tape begins well. Side A opens with textured overlapping drones, and at least initially, the distinctly guitar-like tones serve to embellish them and add a shifting, active layer to them. However, there are also moments where it seems like the clutter of delayed single note runs overwhelms the base of the track, feeling overindulgent rather than integral to the piece as a whole. Once these subside, grounding, alternating tones continue, almost heartbeat like for a compelling, minimal stretch before they are again obscured by extraneous layers. The second side follows a similar trajectory. The first few minutes of Side B are more interesting and almost startling, in a relatively low-key way. It sounds like a particularly raw signal from the guitar, or possibly the tone created by pressing a finger to the exposed end of a 1/4" cable. These pulses are treated and begin to interact in ways that resemble homespun, synth-less dance music. There's an energy here, a straddling of styles and genres that comes from the playing itself, emerging from the process. It feels both spontaneous in its generation and careful in its shaping simultaneously. Eventually this motion is pushed aside by dissonance and more active guitar work that feels scattered compared to the wonderful opening. There are stretches of this tape that I love, but each time I listen to it, I'm left with the feeling that there's a great C20 that could be crafted from this longer work. 6/10 -- Howard Martin (8 July, 2009) |
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Expo '70 White Ohms
The Wire
Smooth Assailing four out of the six tracks on this cassette are outtakes from the sessions which bore the black ohms cd (on beta-lactam ring). this gets off to a deceptive start with the fifteen minutes of mantra in white ohms. there's a couple of layers of low, monotonous droning as well as the minimal buzz of distorted guitar and a general feeling of this could go on forever. a thudding strum (i presume) will come in every eight seconds or so, furthering the notion that we're just listening to an endless loop, but the affected guitar that's buried deep under the fray does present a little variation. if you're listening close enough. as far as repetitive droning is concerned, mantra was great, but the tape gets a whole lot better from the second track (land of light) on. justin will pan a simple, repeating, strum in each channel, offset them and, finally, allow them to culminate into drones, before starting the cycle anew. lol will go on to incorporate pensively played (and exquisitely delayed) guitar, alternating between lovely chords and nuanced noise from the instrument's strings. empyreal totem wastes no time in establishing a good melodic loop. wright also supplies a loop of drone as he starts to delay that central melody. the only thing left to do after that is bring in another layer of slow, atmospheric guitar, with celestial affections. he'll let this combination lull us until the final minute, when he brings his guitar back down to earth, somewhat, infusing his playing with a semblance of structure. the repetitious loop of chords that usher in white rift are rather uptempo. when they're paired with (and soon usurped by) loud, distorted noise and random riffs, one might expect justin to thrash his way out of it. not quite. instead, another layer of atmospheric guitar (the sonic opposite of the noisy droning) will step out of the shadows. that ambiance will soon turn into slow soloing which sounds much sweeter when it's clawing for breath through the distorted crunch and rhythmic loop. tonal elation goes back to droning, essentially relying on the same basic pattern that totem utilized. the key addition is the delayed guitar noise that ends in a crescendo of trembling feedback. the moment that he stops being textural with that noise and loops it into a pattern is the exact time that i fall in love with this track. fucking brilliant. wright will also add a drifting wave of ambiance to that. during the last few minutes, he'll submerge and (further) manipulate that main loop, almost beyond recognition, to great effect, as he shifts back into serene chord work. tonal elation, indeed. lastly is the only other piece over ten minutes long, serenity (it's twelve). the first two thirds of it revolve primarily around bountiful ambient waves, a high-pitched (but subdued) whine and soft, free-form guitar. after four minutes he'll loop a short segment of that dynamic guitar, and build off of that with a more prominent layer of, basically, the same thing, but now it's set to a rhythmic foundation. once he manages to break into a wonderful melody (after eight minutes), he'll play around with it for a little while, and then turn that into a loop. again, he'll layer that with even more sparse guitar. i'm glad that it only occurs in the early stages of the new loop, because it's too good to obscure behind a less compelling layer of sound. outtake (out'tak') n. b) a complete version, as of a recording, that is dropped in favor of another version. the only newly recorded tracks on this were empyreal totem and land of light. to think that the other four were somehow deemed unfit to appear on the cd boggles my mind. so, don't let the word outtakes make you think that this is somehow less worthy than other expo '70 releases, this tape fucking rules. one thing's for sure, i need to check out black ohms and listen to what actually ended up on the disc. my interest is quite piqued right now.
Foxy Digitalis Showing different levels of minimalism and depth, ŇWhite OhmsÓ is characterized by the opening tracks on each side. ŇMantra In White OhmsÓ gloriously exploits a single guitar chord over what must be more than ten minutes. The following tracks, ŇLand of LightÓ and ŇEmpyreal TotemÓ, add a wider variety of sounds, including proper riffs and atmospheric improvisation. I, for one, feel that these tracks are somewhat unfocused. The opener to the b-side, ŇWhite RiftÓ, sees Wright in full distortion mode. ItŐs also the track that relies most heavily on conventional riffing, which I prefer over the throbbing ambience of ŇTonal ElationÓ, which is up next but fails to engage me. Limited to 200, which is quite a lot for a tape but I guess if you want one youŐll have to be quick anyway. 7/10 -- Jan-Arne Sohns (30 April, 2009) |
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Expo '70 Psychosis
Foxy Digitalis Given the nature of the cover artwork I was expecting something kind of spacey and psychedelic from "Psychosis", and Expo 70 did an excellent job of delivering just that. Sure, there is an obvious homage to the early space explorations of Tangerine Dream going on here, maybe mixed with a little slice of Sabbath for good measure- but it doesn't feel like mere hollow imitation. Instead, it's like Expo 70 is tapping into a current that has been left vacant- the current of pure deep droning space rock stripped down to it's barest essence. It's a peculiar blend of heavy music that isn't quite doom and not purely drone, but instead hovers in its own space between genres and labels. It's a mixture that is both comforting and explorative- a blend of sedating low-end rumbles, textural washes of noise, minimal riffs, and the occasional epic lead guitar line that burns through the mix. Each side is composed with a laid back clarity that is never forced, but rather just seems to fall into place. The only instruments present are guitar and bass, filtered through a little delay and distortion. Using this familiar sonic pallette allows Expo 70 to keep one foot grounded in reality while gradually shifting the listener's focus from structure to abstraction and back again. I'm impressed by the presence of Expo 70, both sonically and visually. While there are other artists working with similar methods, few can pull it off as well. I can see them easily branching out in new directions while still maintaining their strong roots that are present on this album. 9/10 -- Charles Franklin (22 July, 2009)
Agitated Atmosphere Justin Wright, also known as Expo Ô70, is a true mixologist. His blend of static drones, heavy riffage, acid-washed psychedelia, and earth-shaking low-end births music that not even Jefferson Airplane and Black Sabbath could have created with the perfect set of circumstances; the formula has yet to be created by science and nature is too fearful of the power such a unity would yield. Thankfully, Wright is the anomaly he is because just one Expo Ô70 is more than enough for those who have dreamed off the day that San Francisco and Birmingham were forged into one. Psychosis, Justin WrightŐs latest for Peasant Magik, has more scorched earth left behind in its path than William Tecumseh Sherman ever dreamed of producing. Each side of Psychosis is its own complete thought, only disturbed by slight changes in the personality of the track. Side A is spent dissecting ŇSleeping Corpse,Ó a three-part jam that is slower, heavier, and darker than many doom acts would ever attempt. It is seven minutes into the 9-minute ŇInto BodyÓ before the first signs of guitar are to be found. Wright has buried his six strings under layers of droneŃat first mechanical yet tranquil, but before long ŇInto BodyÓ is bursting open at the seams, seeping thickets of bubbling static. When WrightŐs guitar has finally pushed its way to the top, it dares not to stop. ŇCold Forecasting,Ó the second act of ŇSleeping CorpseÓ is akin to EarthŐs (the band, not the planet) Dylan CarlsonŐs infinite refrains with two monotonous chords seesawing back and forth below a majestic solo that soars high like an acid trip, finally dissolving into ŇBreaking the Dirt.Ó The B-side of Psychosis again splits itself among three acts, this time titled ŇWidow Planet.Ó Part one, ŇLeft to Die,Ó begins ominously, with pulsating bass that recalls Pink FloydŐs ŇSheep.Ó Much like Side A, it takes quite awhile before the first guitar note is playedŃwell into part twoŐs ŇStark Bleakness Rising.Ó Unlike its Side A counterpart, ŇWidow PlanetÓ focuses on lighter drones and carefully placed reverberation to create a mode more somber than ŇSleeping CorpseÓ conjures. Psychosis finishes with ŇHaunting the Terrain,Ó which cleanses the palate and is an easy comedown after the high of the albumŐs first five pieces. Psychosis is only for the most fearless psychedelics considering Justin Wright nosedives down to EarthŐs (the planet, not the band) hot core. As the journey gains momentum and the temperatures rapid rises, youŐll begin to feel faint and weak. Psychosis is an endurance test of the highest degree, and should you pass it youŐll find yourself eager to take the ride again and again.
Animal Psi Moving from pocked static to lapping waves of reverb, the late-appearing guitar of intro ŇInto BodyÓ gives the impression not of addition, but expedition, as though a topos of tectonic sounds were at play and the eye of the recorder merely passes over. Convening in places with bassist Matt Hill, Wright plays loosely with kraut references (the only way left to do so) as in the searing acid of ŇCold ForecastingÓ, taking a backward standpoint planted in the minimalism of his contemporaries, through Kranky atmospheres and back into the shag. Subtly-split into two side-long suites titled ŇSleeping CorpseÓ and ŇWidow PlanetÓ, the titling scheme overreaches these nonsymbolic works though the headings do gesture to vague differences in color and timbre (most notably in the camp undercurrents of pixilation on the second, ŇcosmicÓ side). ItŐs best to disregard these as the recursive patterns and carefully-cracked patina of tracks like ŇStark Bleakness RisingÓ and ŇHaunting the TerrainÓ offer no separation of song nor theme. With the sophistication of Steven SmithŐs meditations as Ulaan Khol, the six in-bled tracks of ÔPsychosisŐ reverse the transaction of the kitsch loft-space raga to aestheticize such ritual rather than pretend one, in turn generating actual effects on the listener. Edition of 500 copies, and each is highly recommended.
Brainwashed Psychosis is actually two side-long tracks, "Sleeping Corpse" and "Widow Planet," that are each broken into three shorter pieces. The former suite is somewhat lighter and ambient while the latter crosses the line into darker drone territory. "Into Body," the first part of "Sleeping Corpse," begins with deep undulating bass drones and echo chamber guitar scrapes. The low end gets pushed into noise territory while the guitar scrapes eventually morph into more prog-rock like soloing. The overt guitar playing reappears in "Cold Forecasting," where it begins as simple two chord rhythms but shifts into pure soloing that is a bit reminiscent of EarthŐs recent blues/country infused sound, though here it is in addition to a noise driven backing. "Left to Die," the opening movement of "Widow Planet," has a more traditional organic guitar ambient sound with a hint of dubby bass that puts it in league with Main circa Motion Pool: it has a looped sound that is depressive and dark. The style continues into "Stark Bleakness Rising," which pulls away the bass and instead showcases slow, repeated guitar riffs with some more guitar soloing on top. The closing "Haunting the Terrain" goes even farther into sonic space, having a more traditional dark ambient/industrial influenced sound that still shows exceptional analog warmth while keeping the conventional guitar sound at bay. With the guitar based drone sound staying popular, more and more artists need to carve out their own niche to simply not get lost among the detuned chords and sustain pedals. Expo Ő70 does so by adding that liberal dash of '60s psych and '90s dark ambience to the fray. While there are the occasional bits of sameness within each album, as a whole they are a good mix of the familiar and new.
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Sun Stabbed The World Upside-Down
Brainwashed This cassette-only release consists of two very similar sounding ambient-drone pieces (perhaps two halves of the same piece) built upon what the label describes as "expertly crafted, drifting guitar feedback. Ranging from Sunroof!-esque shimmering skree to glacial amplifier buzz." It certainly is glacial, no argument there. As for the skree, I am not entirely sure. "Skree" is something of a pseudo-word that is not clearly defined, but I believe in this case it means an insectoid hum. That is equally apt. Both pieces are based upon a sustained pure, wavering tone and a low drone, and slowly swell and ebb as additional tracks of feedback and hum wash in and out. It never becomes harsh, but abrupt noises intermittently stumble into the mix (backwards chords, radio noises, some vaguely sinister rumblings deep in the mix that may be mangled speech) to keep things from being totally predictable or one-dimensional. Listening to this album is not unlike (I suspect), lying in a field surrounded by crickets whose comforting whine is weirdly shifting in subtly psychedelic ways. Every now and then a darker or harsher tone breaks through the cricket hum, threatening to shatter the nocturnal idyll and remind you that there is an ugly world waiting just outside, but it is always overpowered by your helpful acid-cricket pals almost immediately. Guitarists Pierre Faure and Thierry Monnier display a striking and egoless command of nuance, control, and patience throughout. The World Upside-Down never escalates, incorporates other instruments, or really changes mood. It just floats. Endlessly and hypnotically. At least, it does if your cassette player automatically flips tapes. Otherwise it only floats hypnotically for two twenty-minute stretches. This is the first Peasant Magik release that I was exposed to. I have historically not followed the cassette-only noise genre too closely (even after being blindsided by the amazing Natural Snow Buildings). However, I have since heard some other releases from this label and they are also pretty unique and intriguing. This is still my favorite though. It is a shame only 99 other people will be able to share my experience (as it's limited edition to 100).
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Millions The Unanimous Night
Brainwashed Call it speculation, but I'm pretty sure that Millions used Boss Loop Station RC-20XL to build most of this album. Developed for live sampling, this guitar pedal's ability to infinitely layer sounds makes it the tool of choice for the dronist. About as common as cows in Wisconsin, their strengths and limitations are built into countless cassettes and CDRs issued in the last decade or so. The problem with them is that once a suitable soundscape has been made, no element can be taken away without stopping the whole recording. In other words, Loop Station music is good for the build-up but ultimately becomes repetitious and inert. Regardless of what Millions used to make The Unanimous Night, the music follows the same dynamic. Side two, "The Dreamed Man," begins with reversed guitar swells, easily constructed with the help of our friend the RC-20XL. After the loop is introduced, spurts of wobbly sub bass crawl into the mix along with high pitched insectiod buzzing. Good enough, but halfway through the tape that damn guitar loop is still playing. It's like having an unwanted acquaintance over for a sance. The eponymously titled flip-side holds the attention a little better. Acidic distortion and discordant choral pads give it the feel of some incantation by ritualistic physicists. The atmosphere is suitably cosmic until a mid-game slump hits that piece too. Interstellar howl and hiss do have their charms, but the charm wears quickly. What kills the atmosphere on both of the pieces is the persistence of stale sound elements. Cheap, portable equipment has revolutionized the economics avant-garde music, but compositional sophistication hasn't always moved forward to compensate for the equipment's limitations. The Unanimous Night is by no means the worst example of this trend. I chose it to make a point because I'm intimately familiar with how music that sounds exactly like this is made. Of course, the Loop Station or any other piece of equipment can't totally dictate aesthetics. The problem is that for music that trades on images of mystery, Millions is pretty easy to figure out.
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Tunnels In Between Dreams
Brainwashed In Between Dreams opens with ŇSet Me on FireÓ which is as much indebted to The Mamas and the Papas as it is to Sonic Youth. Discordant guitars grind and pulse as BindemanŐs fog-drenched vocals echo through the noisy melodies. On ŇVenus in the Ape House,Ó Bindeman perverts the rhythm and mood from Die HautŐs ŇStowawayÓ before it collapses in on itself like the more electric parts of The Velvet UndergroundŐs White Light/White Heat. At this point, it sounds like Bindeman is all homage and has no tricks of his own but his work as Tunnels is as much about experimenting with his own playing as it is about using tried and tested techniques on the guitar. The shorter side B sees Bindeman extend the range of his music further. Unusual percussion and the sound of celestial strings spar with a big, meaty fuzz guitar line on ŇWeb.Ó It is here that he sounds at his most free, trying out ways of upsetting any notion of songcraft but without letting the music turn into a dirge or generic free improv. He launches himself out even further with ŇHetty Witch,Ó forgoing the guitar altogether to make an eerie and ghostly abstract soundscape. Overall, In Between Dreams is an exhilarating release that blends familiar rock ancestry into an unfamiliar context, making those tired old moves sound fresh again. Considering it is a cheap release due to the format, it is well worth hunting down (provided you still have a tape deck of course).
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Saudade The Hooded Ones
Foxy Digitalis |
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Enfer Boreal Devotion
Foxy Digitalis The first side opens with a lulling back drone, over which a series of guitar and synth lines are patiently overlaid like sheets of color. ThereŐs something quite visual about all of this, especially considering the depth achieved by the spacious emptiness that exudes from the background of the tape. There are a number of pieces presented here, each with its own feel, and actually the results are quite far reaching. The second trackŐs static hum and fan belt pulse gently swell into a numb stagnation that briefly counteracts the delayed naturalistic vibe of the following track. The flip sideŐs first track features a low bellow recurring beneath a tinkling seashell clatter. Very patient and immobile atmosphere conjured here, that walks a fine line between relaxed drone discourse and a kind of proto-industrial field recording. ItŐs this line that keeps Enfer BorealŐs stuff so compelling and, though this isnŐt my favorite Enfer Boreal releaseŃwith little time afforded to each piece, the works never reach their maximum effectiveness, it seemsŃitŐs as good an introduction to the projects various sonic guises as any. 6/10 -- Henry Smith (27 May, 2009) |
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Sean McCann The Truth Is Marching In
Brainwashed If McCann's sound is defined by his tools, then his vision is shaped by his approach. Improvisatory as it may beand surely it has all of the energy and excitement for which spontaneous music allowsMcCann's real strength is in his ability to balance this chaotic and kaleidoscopic musical landscape without ever losing a sense of compositional control. The opening piece (all are untitled) opens with an explosion of processed strings and thick synthesized drones that leave no time for mental adjustment; yet McCann's sound is so well honed that the result is exhilarating rather than overwhelming. As everything careens around in celebratory fits, hollow rhythmic pulses echo beneath, giving amorphous shape to the loose fitting flow of the work. Elsewhere, McCann explores near post-rock territory, bringing in slow and steady bass and drum work beneath drifting vocals and aimless string moves that bend and sway their way toward some beautiful nowhere. That the following side closing track fits right in despite eliminating any overt use of electronics is yet another display of the close attention paid to these works; the lilting bowed string melodies continue developing the same mood without rehashing the tactics that have already proved to work at achieving it. The second side of the tape opens with the most overtly Aylerian work on the date, though nothing instrumentally would draw that comparison here. Plucked strings mingle between huge swathes of bubbling, choral drone that recall the same cathartic emotional release of Ayler without even a hint of saxophone to be found. That it comes to a stuttering and dark end is perhaps poetically in line with Ayler's own tragic death, but more importantly it infuses the work with a dark shadow that is otherwise largely missing from the rest of the tape. Parts even approach a level of Skaters-like murk, babbling about in confusion that seems the anarchic antithesis to the work's cleansing beginnings. The next piece's clattered, gamelan-like strings draw on even more comparisons but again, McCann's distinct sound is fully on display. That he is able to garner this much excitement out of sounds too often used for tired ends is impressive in itself, but it's the bigger picture that is this music's greatest asset. No mere collection of "experimental" or "drone" works, the release sees an up-and-coming artist continuing to pursue an already mature musical stance. And that's not something that happens often enough at all.
Smooth Assailing the first of truth's four tracks unfurls with sparse affected guitar, but quickly blisses out with several layers of swirling psychedelic ambiance, ethereal vocals, the buzz of bowed instrumentation and a steady thumping of submerged drums (and bass guitar). basically, a trippy clusterfuck, if you want to be technical about it. this opener is certainly busy, but i find that there's a perfect combination of disjointed, arrhythmic sounds and repetitive loops, as well as occasional melodies, preventing one from becoming too lost in sean's fertile soundscape. the other song on the first side carries about in roughly the same fashion, until the final four minutes of it break form by introducing a pensive guitar melody, suitably supported by the percussion. most of the denser ambient layers will have been dispensed, except for warm, formless vocals. bowed string work is also carried over, though, now it seems more like an environmental addition, instead of the noisy texture that it was earlier. this finishing stretch is surprisingly coherent, considering, but unsurprisingly terrific. having exercised the ghost of albert ayler, mccann will settle down into something more serene for the beginning of the second side. the lack drums, or rhythmic foundation in general, is the most noticeable departure, but that structural space will be ably occupied by a memorable wavering ambient drone and warm layered loops of sean's affected vocals. he'll continue to apply various complimentary instrumental noises, manipulations and other electronic embellishments throughout these eight minutes. that same feeling of warmth will permeate the final track on the truth is marching in as sean again centers everything around the solid foundation of melodic droning. it starts out by heavily favoring stringed experimentation, eventually growing to incorporate electronics, as well. once that organic clatter fades out of earshot, the commitment to droning becomes greatly increased (and amplified). accompanying the pleasantness of that are chewed up manipulations and bubbling synthesizer, providing a very extra-terrestrial conclusion which is wholly appropriate seeing as how sean had his head in the clouds for the majority of the cassette. this tape ended up being broken down into four separate tracks, but the way that it plays out as you listen to it, is more like each side has two parts to it; logical continuations of previously exhibited themes and musical styles which run damn near linearly, yet, manage to have a few singular aspects to them. overall, this is a lovely album imbued with such a variety of sounds that it's practically futile for me to try to keep track of all of them. despite its restlessness, there was careful attention given to properly accommodate everything, controlling what could have been chaos, and turning it into something quite beautiful.
Animal Psi Compared to such minimalism, ÔThe Truth Is Marching OnŐ comes off as the most hulking assemblage, supplementing the Stunned tape by filling the C40 (and earliest recording of the lot) wall-to-wall with two couplets of raucous acoustic drones. Derived from strings and percussion, and peppered with electronic quirks familiar to laptop IDM, the sounds swirl together without losing definition like a well-worn palimpsest of ecstatic rehearsals. Despite a second side stab at a tune, this is all harmony and no melody. The sound swell - sometimes bubble - in and out in orderly fashion, and though some passages bring certain instruments to the fore, there are no solos just proximities. Given the selection of timbres and spacious field of the recording, the single player is absented by way of multiplication in a maximal sound grown anonymous and total. File under ÔWall PsychŐ. On pro-pressed cassettes limited to 100 copies.
The One True Dead Angel |
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Fossils From The Sun The Living Mixer
Auxlary Out The Living Mixer is a thirty minute tape of super minimal electronics under Hare's solo moniker, Fossils From the Sun. The thing thats amazing about it is that guitar looks like the only sound source. The first side consists of five tracks ranging from one to six minutes. 'A Livication' is the shortest and introduces the listener to the pulsing pallet of the tape. 'Rockers' is louder and crunchier, where frequencies are molded and manipulated over a pseudo-rhythmic juddering. The track covers quite a lot of ground for clocking in under two minutes actually. Sun Selector is my favorite here. Hare gives the track plenty of room to stretch its legs, focusing on a repeating swell and dissipation of a tone more akin to a didgeridoo than a guitar. There are little prickles of quiet, metallic feedback that form, very slowly, a vague rhythmic counterpoint to the central loop. There really isnt a lot going on to be quite honest, but there is something incredibly hypnotic about it and an attractive strength in its subtlety. That main loop is like the donging of a church bell almost. A super hard track to pull off, especially communicating to someone with a short attention span like myself, but Hare does it with style, though style seems like the absolutely wrong word to use there. I suppose'concentration' would be a bit more accurate. 'A Damaging Air' is another short piece, this time of echoing percussive contact noise. 'Not Waving' finishes the side with more of those metallic, hi-frequency feedback tones. Hare expands the sound spectrum deliberately over the course of the track, leaving the initial sounds the same by the end but swollen somehow. Side B starts off with 'The Living Mixer (a Sound Clash)' which clocks in at nearly 12 minutes dwarfing all the other songs on the tapeat least, lengthwise. The track works with a round, lightly pulsating drone for a while. That tone casts a constant, whirring fog across the track which experiences slight ripples in its static fabric by various sounds, some of which are actually somewhat identifiable as guitar. Its a hard piece to describe really. The last two tracks are both just over a minute. 'A Simple Star Vibrating Slowly' is quite nice and develops an intuitive melody amidst the pulsing electronic signals. 'A Livication (version)' actually features of some straight-up guitar playing (though still heavily effected.) It works as a nice coda/transition back to the world outside the tape. This tape is certainly way different than any other of Hare's projects, even quite a bit different than the FFtS 3" I reviewed in the fall. While its not necessarily something I put on a lot, I dont have anything else in my collection that covers this ground. Hare does a pretty great job creating a world of his own on tape and really altering your consciousness in a way. Hes sculpting some deep meditations here but stripped of any put on 'psychedelia.' The TMH CD-r is still available from Tunis's Carbon label but the tape was dreadfully limited to a mere 39 copies and thus is long out of print. So if you are remotely interested in the sounds and you see a copy floating around somewhere you should pick it up cause this baby is practically a collector's item. |
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Antler Piss Ancestral Feedings
Foxy Digitalis The cassette is compromised of four pieces; the first 3 taking up the first side while the final work, and title track, is allowed to sprawl across the entire length of the second side. Out of the four, its actually the final composition that is probably the weakest as the sounds are given a bit too much room to grow into a louder more physically overpowering and typically aggressive work. It is the level of economy used within the shorter works featured on the first side that allow the textures and mood to take precedence making for much more engaging and intense overall listening experience. ŇAncient InfestÓ moves along like some ancient machine on its last leg, clicking and clanking, sputtering and spewing its final breathes before it simply just gives out, not in the expected tumble and explosion but almost at ease with one last pop which reverberates into silence. ŇStone BirthÓ is a more guttural and droning affair that moves back and forth in proximity to the listener, new sounds are carefully and gently introduced from afar. Again, Antler Piss refrains from becoming an aggressor, opting instead for the much more psychologically damaging tactics of fear. ŇNature of TombsÓ closes out the first side with the spatial reverberations and silence featured on ŇAncient InfestÓ but with the more threatening demeanor of ŇStone Birth in hand. Some of the sounds here are more identifiable, such as the very discomforting clanking of chain across concrete. The only real downside to this release is that it was released in such a small number as part of Peasant MagikŐs short run cassette series, but with a little perseverance IŐm sure the brave and willing can easily track this one down 8/10 -- Cory Card (30 June, 2009) |
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Hoor paar Kraat Graduating from Clocks to Watches (Eureka Tapes Vol. II)
Brainwashed Consistent with the standard working mode of the band, this release tip-toes around the darker precipices of its various genre dabblings without ever submerging into total blackness. Spread across the six lengthy tracks are thick and tactile dronescapes, disturbed vocal babblings, and creepy guitar dirges atop squawking synthesizer cries. This dark and mysterious atmosphere, consistent with the group's enigmatic existence, is hardly a dip in the relatively safe waters of the overdone doom and gloom rock pursued by so many though; Hoor-paar-Kraat merely use this as a starting point from which to uncover deeper pockets of mystery. That they never tell their listener exactly how to feel is one of the great--and ultimately frightening--strengths they display. Each track here more or less represents a single approach, and the patience exhibited in working within those specific and relatively limited fields makes each piece its own whole without becoming so cluttered as to take away from the album's sense of focus. The first side, for example, opens with "Lacking a Cast Shadow," a slow and smooth drone buildup that shimmers with gray stillness as swathes of air bellow beneath scratching claws and tiny bells. Nearly unmoving, the piece serves as a palette cleanser, easing the listener into the decidedly more elusive and eerie version of bleak pursued on "Habit and the Smooth Sailing of the Psyche." That this too finds its groove, opting for odd tape clatterings and distant, crawling gamelan moves that keep the descending trajectory of the album as restrained and patient as possible. If the first side of the tape is the journey downwardespecially with the closing "departure of the Icicle Man" and its dark and knotty drone loopsthen the second side is the arrival and subsequent blind exploration of that realm. "Relics of the Inheritance" features odd guitar string tuggings and hollowed out verbal ramblings that leave little to grasp on to. That the group is willing to do so is wholly unsettling, and remarkably effective as a logical progression from the hints of this amorphous approach presented on the first side. Perhaps the most oblique and overtly gloomy material on the tape is found on "The Broken windows of a Fertile World," whose bird calls and playground chatter hover menacingly under austere guitar explorations. This is a sparse and dismal landscape indeed, but Hoor-paar-Kraat handles it as delicately as it does everything here; the piece never erupts with anything near a climax, instead floating with delicate hostility whose unending patience grinds any safety net to a pulp, leaving you fully unsuspecting of the harsh blasts of static din that erupt on the closing "The Self is an Onion-Self." The keen sense of timing and clear division between approaches on each side marks the basement academicism of the release. While many artists working in this vein achieve liftoff with nearly every track, it is refreshing to hear a unit at work that understands the power of sonic confinement and the dire connotations of time. While the title may suggest a technological move forward, it also means that the clock is always present, counting down the hours one by one to be monitored at your convenience. And this is just the sort of dark momentum forged from track to track as this fully realized outing unfolds.
Smooth Assailing multiple layers of ambient waves open up the cassette's first track, lacking a cast shadow. they'll gently sway back and forth by themselves for a few minutes until the introduction of metallic clangs and chiming percussion. one layer of the background ambiance will slowly sweep through in loud vibrating hums as the focal noise seems to be someone diligently ripping every page out of the phone book (with amplification). it's definitely a unique sound and is rather jarring given the entrancing quality that is surrounding it. the later juxtaposition of short, shrill drones with the serenity of the (set-in) minimal soundscape is great. habit and the smooth sailing of the psyche sounds like what happens when a bunch of people on psychedelics come across a pile of metal objects and decide to be a band. at least it's just psychedelics, or this could have been a nightmare... though it's not far removed from a bad trip. habit actually starts off pretty sparsely, but when five people are sparse all at once, you tend to lose some of that minimalism. i hear banging, plucking, ringing, metal droning, tolling, additional clanging... then later, the warbling of analog manipulations. basically, it's a cacophonous symphony. i'm appreciative of the repetitious ripple of droning that's providing a coherent anchor as all of the disjunct organic noise, and the manipulated noise, form an unholy union... otherwise, my head would throb from too much strange sounding shit all being piled on top of one another, but since that drone's there, i like habit just fine. hoor-paar-kraat will mellow way out for departure of the icicle man. this has the feel of an interlude, but it's hard to call it as such when it's nearly eight minutes long. this is just drifting ambient synthesizer peppered with brief snippets of backwards manipulations and occasional distortion. it doesn't do very much, but it sounds soothing, and does serve as a transition from the claustrophobic nature of the previous track. the manipulated vocal recordings of relics of the inheritance, which starts off side b, kind of creeps me right the hell out. i don't even know what the hell the guy's talking about, but his slowed down voice takes on this demented whine that fucking disturbs me. another thing that accentuates my unease is the tense combination of plucked strings played in conjunction with backwards, sped up manipulations of said strings. harrowing. good thing (for my sanity) it's only three minutes long. graduating will continue its turbulent journey from relatively normal to frenetic and back again with the eight minutes of the broken windows of a fertile world. this is hands down the best of their not so crazy pieces. it opens with field recordings of running water and a main layer of great guitar melody (a touch on the bleak side, but whatever), which is complimented by a low acoustic drone. after the water runs dry, in come soft, vibrato howls in the background. those will soon change into grating screeches, like moving a desk with rubber stoppers on its legs across a (mile long) tiled floor... or, evil monkeys. i love how long it takes for each occurrence to eventually fade away. the final track, the self is an onion-self begins with a distinctly dank mechanical atmosphere, which springs forth to my mind, being in the bowels of a huge ship. that will develop into a rad rhythmic pattern, aided by thunderous booms in the background. self soon briefly incorporates an odd noisier layer; a loud, vaguely digital, sputtering drone, which clears out for a new droning wave, seeming to emanate from some of the pounding in the dark recesses. that will then get broken down wonderfully into fractured segments which swoop into self's forefront. after those will pass, i can hear that pattern, in its unmodified form, lurking in the backdrop. shortly past the halfway point there will be a few calm minutes where nothing extraneous is happening to the track's layered central rhythm, though there will come one more passage of commotion, which flashes by, and then it's placid for the remainder. graduating from clocks to watches is weird, to say the least. kind of creepy, too. it's also really fucking good. even at its oddest peaks, never did hoor-paar-kraat abandon a semblance of structure, either through rhythm or a general repetitive (and pleasing) melodic tone, which kept their work fairly grounded when it could've easily strayed into (deep) left field abstractness. it also helped that the weirdness never seemed forced, i couldn't pick up on an intentionally dark slant, but the chilling aura was certainly felt at times. not to mention that the sum of what they were doing appeared to have at least a modicum of original thought behind it, which is always great (when it works). |
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Korperschwache Fear The Hex
Brainwashed Korperschwache (which means "organic decay") is essentially the solo project of a fellow named RFK, although he is aided by a frequent female collaborator named Doktor Omega on percussion. RFK is something of an underground institution, as he publishes the long-running e-zine The One True Dead Angel and fronted the now-defunct Autodidact (who have been favorably compared to My Bloody Valentine, Swans, and Skullflower). I have not heard Autodidact yet, but I am intrigued, as RFK's guitar work on this album (despite being deliberately destroyed and buried in noise) occasionally betrays an innovative command of unconventional and dissonant harmony. Fear The Hex is divided into three (ostensibly) themed albums: Black Canyon Drone, Death Disco, and Dissonance And Submission. Black Canyon Drone is, as expected, largely drone-themed. However, there are several percussive tracks included also (thematic purity is an early casualty). Korperschwache's source material consists solely of enthusistically mutilated electric guitar sounds. I may be wrong, but I don't think RFK uses a computer for sound manipulation at all. Korperschwache has a very lo-fi aesthetic and RFK's unique sound seems to originate from a mixture of effects pedals and overloaded signals. The multiple tracks of heavily distorted and ruined guitars create a complex rumbling roar, which is well suited for drone music. There is some filler here, but usually (as on "Creeping Interstellar Space") RFK artfully stacks clashing notes together to create some cool oscillations and an atmosphere of vague menace. Death Disco is the most beat-oriented of the three cassettes and would be uniformly excellent if it weren't for one puzzling stylistic quirk: several of the (surprisingly structured and melodic) songs sound like unfinished sketches of unwritten Jesu tracks ("The White Room," for example). It is maddening and confounding that RFK combined thick, doom-y chord progressions and excellent repetitive, quasi-mechanized beats, then stopped and moved onto the next song. If he had focused on fleshing these tracks out, rather than on assembling three goddamn albums of material, Fear The Hex could have been quite an amazing album. That said, I love Doktor Omega's drums, particularly on the glacially unfolding drone piece "The Soothing Call of Nature's Existential Hum." Actually, that track is excellent all-around; RFK augments his usual low-end avalanche with some psychedelic strangled-sounding weirdness in the upper octaves. It is also worth noting that some of the tracks have rhythms that sound bizarrely Caribbean or Brazilian (albeit slowed-down), which infuses the creeping sludge with a somewhat surreal and playful feel. I think I even heard a bongo on one track. I am unsure what distinguishing trait Dissonance And Submission is supposed to possess to separate it from the other two cassettes, as it seems to mine the same territory. The opening track ("Targeted For Massive Defoliation") is one of RFK's more successful droning roars and is unique here for having shifting drums that attempt to give the song varying dynamics. Perhaps the drums were added after the guitar in this one instance. I'm not sure if I like this innovation though am pretty closed-mindedly infatuated with the relentless, mechanical repetition of the other rhythmic tracks. Korperschwache generally have a impressively heavy, textured, and unique sound, I found myself enthusiastically getting into this at times. For that I am quite grateful. My walkman broke while I was in NYC this week (during Black Canyon Drone) and I had to scour the city's worst electronics stores to find a new one so I could listen to the rest. Consequently, I would have been apoplectic with rage if this album had not been so frequently compelling. There's way too much material here for any normal person to process and fully enjoy though, and too many prematurely aborted good ideas too. I hope RFK continues to evolve (even after fourteen years) as he has certainly drifted a long way from his original inspirations of Whitehouse and Merzbow. If Korperscwache's next album is shorter, less claustrophobic and space-less, and more adventurous in its departures from the default Korperschwache song structure, I will probably love it. (Fear The Hex is a cassette-only limited edition of 100.)
Animal Psi |
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Gareth Hardwick Carnations
The Wire
The One True Dead Angel
Cassette Gods The second side is a bit more dissonant though not without resolution, two synth lines slowing intertwining creating discord and a slight tension with a bit more high end though the tones establish a relationship and work slowly towards become a unified field of sound that is, like the first side, more soothing. A really good listen. note: the label site says one side is guitar and the other is organ, presumably side a is the organ, side b is the guitar which would explain the difference in register and approach but with a consistency between sides in the goals of the sounds.
Foxy Digitalis I find ŇCarnationsÓ to function best as a purely ambient album. I canŐt say itŐs something IŐll feel the urge to listen to more than once in a while, but if I decide that my deep breathing needs practice, I know exactly what IŐll be grabbing off the tape shelf. 6/10 -- Landon Odle (10 June, 2009) |
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Rale Nightside / Shadeup
Cassette Gods
Foxy Digitalis
The Wire
Animal Psi |
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Monks of The Balhill Ten Ways To Get Out Of The Water
Tiny Mix Tapes
Foxy Digitalis The side long track ĂŹAnd Trudy Trotter Jumped in the FireĂŽ opens off with some delicately plucked acoustic guitar wanderings accompanied by zoned-out melodica, which is quickly succumbed by a wave of guitar feedback and buried organ drones. A staring into the void headswim ensues with indiscernible sounds peaking out, at times bouncy or plucked and others slightly more menacing. The Monks seem intent to explore a little sonic detail and then move on, though an engine-like howl that runs throughout the track creates a sense of continuity. Acoustic guitar work again opens the flip sideĂs ĂŹGallinago DoojiggerĂŽ, backed by those howlinĂ sonics. This piece develops to a more frenzied level than anything on the first side with massive waves of feedback and organ drones burying snippets of melodica, electric guitar, and some incidental clatter. Some dreamy, delayed guitar work provides a brief respite midway through the track, which then vies for some blissful compromise amidst the confusion that closes out the track. Was that whistling I heard? The French have occupied a disproportionate amount of stereo time of late, this one accounting much of it. (Limited to 100 copies) 8/10 -- David Perron (3 March, 2009)
Smooth Assailing side a's track, and trudy trotter jumped in the fire, begins with the melancholy combination of a sparse acoustic guitar melody and reflective melodica. a drone will begin to creep up from the back. around the same time that the guitar is abandoned, and the melodica loses its structure, opting for prolonged notes, that droning will start playing a larger role. then, trudy will dip out, abruptly, and when it comes back it greets us with a loud, nearly howling, echoed whirl that becomes tweaked more and more until it's nothing but a faint memory. by that point the piece will take on a calmer tone, highlighted by layers of oscillating ambient waves that will go on to reintroduce the guitar(s). there's a brief, but enjoyable, looping guitar and then disjunct chord plucks. the distorted whirls will soon come back, but only to pave the way for louder droning, with lovely guitar and warm rolling ambiance underneath it. as the track regains its serenity, the melodica.. um, melody.. picks back up, providing the comfort of familiarity. a soft drone in the far off distance eases in gallinago doojigger. that'll be followed closely by acoustic guitar (and the squeaking of someone's hand running up and down the chords) which is even more minimally used than it was on the first side. layered droning, of varied depth and fluctuation, does a fine job of acting as the instrument's stopgap, though. the sub-level of doojigger is where the bulk of its dynamics (let's use that a little loosely) and noisier flourishes are taking place. just before the thirteen minute mark, the monks will get reeeeeaaaallly minimal, dropping down to barely perceptible as serenely beautiful delayed guitar chords ever so slowly make their ascension, only to be gobbled up by a wave of distortion. once that layer turns into innocuous pulsing, the guitar will be spat back up, as an additional layer of warm drone. slow, unaffected, improvisational guitar joins in during the final few minutes, though it'll be replaced, after a short stay, by rather cheery whistling and then a distorted undercurrent, as nearly all of the drones, save the aforementioned pulse, will have died off. ten ways to get out of the water is, at turns, beautifully tranquil and lucid, hypnotic as well as experimentally (and noisily) detached. each side seemed to have its own stretches where it appeared to abandon the established flow, but, at the same time, i found that there was always some held over remnant that grounded caylet and fribault as they welcomed new ideas into the fold. there was also great consideration given to tying their pieces together by revisiting themes (at various points, not just the conclusions), which gave them even more leeway for their unexpected left field excursions. |
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Dukkha Hail and Farewell.
Foxy Digitalis The album opens with heavy elongated riffing in the doom stratosphere guitar-style of Greg Anderson. The mood is distinctly set with images of gloom, itsĂ fingers forced into the flesh of drone metal, resonating with the influence of Sunn O))), Fear Falls Burning et al. This is also mirrored in the opening track of the B Side, again steeped in walls of soot and reverb. The second track on the A Side has a structured approach that drifts along with pleasing melodies and volatile intrusions that keep oneĂs attention. The second track on the B Side reminds me of CulverĂs recent tape, as it combines atmospheric field recordings with soft out-of-focus tones that tremble and disappear with haunting ambiguity. This is instrumental, glorious, sparse black psychedelia that freezes the heart and then defrosts it with a mighty fart of thunderous infamy. 7/10
Brainwashed Peasant Magik have provided a cryptic, evocative, and hyperbole-filled description for us: ĂŹEndless repetition. Keys spin over down-tuned sludge, FX-ridden guitars suffocate themselves, and utterly massive swells consume all laid before. Notably, the only one of those descriptors that actually applies to all four songs is ĂŹendless repetition. The album opens with ĂŹCreswellianĂŽ (a British Paleolithic culture), built upon a vaguely medieval-sounding down-tuned doom riff that is very much in the Stephen O'Malley/Sunn o))) vein. As it repeats (endlessly, of course), a great deal of haunting, trebly, chattering weirdness is piled on. Unfortunately, DukkhaĂs ambition and imagination are scuttled by his very limited production/recording budget. The main riff should be crushing, but ends up sounding like a muted bass hum and the ĂŹblack psychedeliaĂŽ occurring around it is buried too low in the mix to be fully appreciated. The second track, ĂŹHordron,ĂŽ works much better. It is based upon a simple, melancholy and undistorted minor chord progression (with some deliberate ĂŹwrongĂŽ notes thrown in). The production still sucks, but the lack of distortion prevents it from turning completely into frustrating sonic mud. While it may seem like an oxymoron, this song features some beautiful, tasteful, and inventive wah-wah guitar work. (Hordron Edge is a stone circle near Sheffield, if you are curious. I am amused that all I can figure out about Dukkha is that he is a megalith enthusiast and probably a Buddhist.) 'The Finest Clothes Turn To Rags' kicks off side two with some discordant, high-end tremolo picking that sounds like someone just broke open a hive of evil, distorted hornets. This is the only moment of the album where I perceive a palpable Black Metal influence. Notably, it is this point on the album that ĂŹguitars suffocate themselvesĂŽ and ĂŹconsume all laid beforeĂŽ and the song implodes. Lamentably, the awesomeness of this moment is ruined yet again by sludginess- I am sure that this sounded like a goddamn supernova when it was actually being played. Most unfortunate. 'Chromes Gone Home' closes the album with some dark and eerie droning featuring the sounds of children playing buried in the mix. It is much more spacious than the rest of the album and features some nice impressionistic feedback near the end. There appears to be some underlying concept to this song that involves..um... trucks, which seems like an odd aberration next to the album's other arcane and ancient themes. Dukkha is certainly an inscrutable fellow. Interestingly, ĂŹdukkhaĂŽ is a Buddhist term that roughly translates as ĂŹdisquietĂŽ or ĂŹsuffering.ĂŽ The goal of Buddhism is (rather notably) the cessation of Dukkha. I hope this guy does not achieve enlightenment before recording an album that better does justice to his vision or before forging a sound that is more uniquely his own. (This cassette-only release is a limited edition of 100 copies)
The One True Dead Angel |
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Xiphiidae Wake Of The Hoods
The Wire
The One True Dead Angel
Foxy Digitalis Ambiguity has always played an important role in Xiphiidae's aesthetic. Field recordings played through old warbly tape decks are spliced together to create odd new atmospheres of static and buzz. Textural washes of crackling noise dance playfully on top of low end rumbles- and if you're starting to think that this sounds like a review of a harsh noise tape then think again. Somehow, Jeffry is able to weave these apparently harsh elements into a tapestry of atmospheric beauty. It's almost as if natural sounds have been magnified one hundred times- strangely familiar, yet still alien. There are even slight hints of melodies that squeeze between the sounds, so faint that they almost seem imagined. I really appreciate the subtly of "Wake of the Hoods". Nothing is immediate, and I'm hearing new things on every listen. These sounds exist on the edge of consciousness or lost in some forgotten and scrambled memory. This is heavy dream-noise for sure, pure comforting blankets of sound to get lost inside. Perhaps it's a little too indirect for some, but if you have patience you will be rewarded. 9/10 |
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"V" Standing Still In the Celestial Sphere Heathen Harvest Each track has different atmospheres and arrangements which are built into a dedicated way, and also the fact this is a solo project give us more arguments to enter in a deep detain of the structures behinds âstanding still in the celestial sphereâ Acoustic guitar parts evolving itself in its own sounds in the first track calledâ half closed curtainâ while the second oneâ along blizzard beachâ is more dense ambient track with some strong patterns in the principal structure, with some percussive sounds which fits perfectly with the atmosphere of the track. The dynamism of this release continues with the third track called âStella Marisâ and its accordion based sounds and soft guitar tunes. âDarkness where you areâ is perhaps the best track here.a melancholic trip to calm harmonic atmospheres, all of them arranged again through the excellent accordion sounds and finally its âleon spilliaretâ also with harmonic elements and acoustic structures, chorus, deternminating each one of the minutes of this track. The beauty of this one is palpable and the essence of the whole releases a reality. Vincent Caylet, the mind behind this project has developed an interesting release, creating a deep reflection on celestial spheres within the music spectrum varying from dark, to darker, from ambient to dense acoustic elements with a respective dose of creativity. So, he is preparing two releases in future through a Ruralfaune recs and Acoustic decease recs. This album comes in a black cdr housed in white cardboard sleeve with full color wrap around art and hand mate marble paper. Hand stamped and numbered.
Smooth Assailing layered waves of background drones and nomadic acoustic guitar will open up the first track, half closed curtain. near the midpoint, caylet will shift away from the dissonant buzzing and sculpt a serene ambiance that's built upon pillowy tone undulations, soft feedback as well as a fainter loop of vocal drone, all while continuing to pleasantly pluck away. along blizzard beach will feature formless, dreamy vocals more prominently, but vincent will scale back everything else. his other main accompaniment, for the bulk of these eight minutes, will be a crackle and hiss that's akin to someone cooking an egg... or in this case, frying a twelve egg omelet. wrapped around all of this are thin layers of drone and buried acoustic guitar. during the last two minutes, the featured layers will drop out of range as the atmosphere becomes undercurrent and the wispy drone finds itself highlighted, and joined by thunder and chimes. the blissful nature of celestial sphere will peak with the lovely stella maris. it opens with the soft chirps of morning birds which are quickly joined by the enchanting combination of a ringing metallic drone and slow, thoughtfully played melodica. the contrasting patterns of higher notes and mid-level ones is superb. i also really like the subtle shifts to the main drone as it wavers between rapidly folding in over itself and gentle rolls. then, when the shimmering acoustic chords enter the picture, after a few minutes, it's even more fulfilling. those will eventually dissipate, but the guitar will come back around towards stella's conclusion, but, now it's conventional sounding soft strums, which will wind up finishing out the piece on their own. melodica's also on the menu for the opening minutes of darkness where are you.. and the answer to that is right here on this track. the sorrowful tones of that instrument attempt to coalesce with the distorted rainstorm that vincent's got brewing all around it. once the melodica slowly fades out, the bottom falls out of the storm... but that just makes room for more darkness, chiefly, haunting vocal chants and a creaking foundation. the atmospheric drone is fairly ominous, too. that will all be (sporadically) compounded with xylophone chimes and various other stringed drones. the vocals on album closer leon spilliaert are less evil monk and more ethereal delayed cooing, but the restful feel of those (and chimes) are slightly offset by the song's initial swells of distortion. halfway through leon's eleven minutes, the vocal loops will get manipulated into bouncing drones (which will soon wear themselves right out of existence) as caylet breaks out his guitar for the cd's most memorable instrumental passage. both the noisy drones and the vocal intonations will swing back around during closing stretch, taking the place of the guitar and chimes. standing still in the celestial sphere is a gorgeous piece of work by vincent. it's also so very out of print. fortunately, he has a hell of a work ethic and churns out tapes and cds rather regularly. well, that last part is still true. you can get this at peasant magik's site. |
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Robe. Star Form Animal Psi The six pulsing points which construct the constellation of âStar Formâ vacillate unevenly between drones of vacant whir which impose a reasonable sense of dread and undying, and quite antithetically, broadcasted exercises of strictly analytical wants ala Boulez or Xenakis made to emerge from the ether like words in an eight-ball. Derived entirely from guitars and trombone, these moments appear like solo sketches for the uniquely tubular timbre of the horn; and while, for example, in the thin stew of bassy rumble and squiggly marks on âChromosphereâ one is unable to say whether that third set of hands is being effectively utilized, as a strong proponent of maximum employment, I believe if only in those fleeting climaxes of work that every and all member may be justified if it is able to bring âAujn Dreyâ to the chirping, quivering critical mass that it does. The brief âUncharted Depthsâ captures perhaps the best conflation of high and low drones in a storied dialogue befitting the discâs astral theme, and familiar to Burning Star Coreâs recent masterpiece âChallengerâ. This terror of outer-space is certainly an accessible reference point if the listener ever starts feeling lost, as final track âNitrogenâ confirms the disempowered weightlessness of the journey - or rather, âtime spentâ - moving not toward any impending death but the sinking suspicion of such; not Event Horizon, but Solaris. Black CDr comes in a paper sleeve with paste on art, wrapped in vellum, hand-numbered to 100.
Heathen Harvest Well that is exactly the aesthetic that Robe. conjures for me. The artwork on their CD and the experience of outer space that their music explores. These guys are a three piece, with guitar, bass and trombone. A curious mix of instruments and so aggressively effect-laden (delay, reverb, etc) that one can rarely identify the vast ambient drones that comprise so much of this release as coming from any merely human means at all. Deep, echoing, undulating swells of tonality rise and fall away with a stately grace, sometimes set against the ungainly arcs of higher pitched notes or clattering metallic noises. The overall effect is exactly as intended: travel through outer space, but not the racy, exciting outer space of Star Wars: rather the dreary, eerie, alone-out-here-with-infinity kind of space explored in, say, John Carpenterâs Dark Star (though without the irony). There is a lot of hiss and crackle, as well as dreamy sonar-like noises and what could almost be the howl of cosmic winds. The music is very evocative; at times it conjures images not of space but of gigantic languid sea serpents slowly making their way through jet black oceans on some unimaginable alien world. While the idea is executed skilfully, I must say it feels a little thin. I guess the idea of floating aimlessly, cold, alone, through outer space can only offer so much texture before it gets a little boring. Granted, Robe. are trying to construct ambient/atmospheric music and not a sonic rollercoaster. But somehow in successfully dissolve all points of reference in the vast reaches of space they also somehow fail to conjure that feeling of progression or transformation that I personally look for in ambient music. I freely admit that this is just a question of personal taste however; this album is certainly well suited to those of us who like to lurk in darkness â maybe surfing the web or reading obscure texts â as the late hours turn into the early hours. Conclusion? Star Form is a great example of a concept album which precisely succeeds in its intent: I feel cold and claustrophobic yet dissolved in vast dark nothingness every time I listen to it. I donât know if there is such a genre classification as âspace ambientâ but Robe. have a good claim to being important exponents of such a genre with this release. |
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Ajilvsga White Path / Red Path Heathen Harvest This cassette contains two tracks developed through sonic manifestations in the shapes of âwhite pathâ and âred pathâ and both of them having a perfect connection in the way as they have been created. Benign currents stretch out across vacant lands, transporting through isolation evoking dark ambient sounds with such experimental elements, drones and guitars. While the tunes and general feel of the piece doesnât really change. Much at all over the duration, the passive nature of the composition is so unobtrusive that you donât get bored with the lack of evolution in this album. But you must be sure the whole music expressed here has very important elements to check out, as for example the well handle of guitars tunes and drones which fits perfectly each other. This is probably to minimal for some of you, but it functions well, at least at our ears, when listening careful each one of the musical patterns developed here such as: thick clouds of swirling electronics, walls of distortion, phased guitars generating the most dense Ajilvsga release to date. This comes in a chrome tape in a full colorful out card stock insert that tape wrapped in a cassette obi, screen printed on heavy textured paper and each one hand numbered limited to 100 copies. 21 minutes of pure dark slowly expansive exploration of deep black minimalism. From these Oklahoma-s duo known as Ajilvsga.
Smooth Assailing red path would seem to be leading us to a more treacherous, out of the way place, by honing in on noisy droning and removing nearly everything else which provided the allusion that we were experiencing the music in a seemingly natural setting. even the cutting wind-like background noise will assume a dissonant role, rather than being evocative of something organically occurring. i do like the sound of the main distorted drone, it's not particular catchy in any way, but its tone meshes wonderfully with everything else. the starting and stopping of it, for a brief stretch in the opening minutes, was a particularly nice touch. there are a few subtler loops which will come and go, that, outside of being repeated phrasings, won't appear to add much, musically, but when it comes to droning noise, it's the subtler things that can leave an impression. beyond those, it's just the slight variations to the drones and distortion that the listener's left with. white path / red path is a solid addition to ajilvsga's discography, but it's also a less memorable one. the past two ajilvsga tapes that i've reviewed both had something that i was immediately drawn to and loved, but this one i find myself liking in a general sense; overall, it's enjoyable, but nothing sticks out and makes me want to devote all of my attention to listening to it. it's good for lazy afternoon accompaniment, though... for whatever that's worth to you. |
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Wether / Gallows / Pillars of Heaven / Deerstalker
Cassette Gods The only underwhelming side on here is the closer by Deerstalker. Allegedly a "collaborative effort" between the other artists (there's no mention on the website as to which artists are involved), it bears little resemblence to any of the other groups except Gallows. Rather than calculated drones or walls of distortion, there's some blasĂŠ vocal moaning and obscured knob fiddling in the background. Perhaps this was a room recording which translated poorly on tape. This isn't too surprising; as others have previously written, it's not unusual for a one-off noise collab to fail to add up to the sum of its parts. At any rate, the consistent quality of the other sides should be reason enough to check for this split (both Peasant Magik and NHS have recently had it in stock). The two tapes come in an oversize vinyl case with full-color wraparound art.RECOMMENDED! |
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Drunjus Enceladus Animal Psi
Foxy Digitalis Track two is decidedly more psych-rock in nature, except minus the drums and any real semblance of song structure. Weird keyboard tones squelch and wobble over rumbling bass crumble. Every sound comes together to form something akin to a giant slowly evolving feedback loop -like capturing the shimmer off of a body of water and turning it into an auditory experience. Chimes start to sound and an accordion or a melodica begins to flutter around me like a bird. The musicians are taking things nice and slow, and they're finessing their sounds until they become one with the world they're creating. Drunjus are have definitely taken some cues from the great dream minimalist of our time. They process the information well, and then continue to move forward. 9/10 -- Charles Franklin (18 June, 2008)
Smooth Assailing drone plus frogs equals enceladus' first track, how close is the sky to the ground? with its nighttime field recordings and creaking noises, it sounds like this was recorded deep in the swamp from someone's dilapidated porch. the creaks will add balance to the serenity of nature while the drones slowly work their way into your consciousness. after the track's past the thirteen minute mark (it's twenty-five minutes long, total), they'll hit us with a louder, more interesting drone, but it's the fact that drunjus managed to keep me interested in the first half, when there wasn't so much going on, that's wonderful to me. in theory, it's remarkably simple, as i succinctly (and exaggeratedly) stated in the first sentence of this paragraph. the wavy minimal drone is relatively standard fare and surely the addition of field recordings isn't breaking any new ground, but goddamn, they employ all the right tweaks. the initial drone has quite a bit of dynamics to it, so while it's generally relegated to the background, it is constantly in an evolutionary flux, giving you something to actually listen up for. when droning noise starts to become a focal point, they'll reveal yet another fold as rustling recordings (someone trouncing about in a forest, perhaps) take the place of the previous croaks. just when it seems as if they're reaching a crescendo, in comes another drone, but this is somewhat melodic, which briefly counterweighs the delayed noise of the other one. when the dust settles, it's back to an innocuous steady throbbing drone that slowly fades its way of existence, leaving only minimal field recordings and those great creaks. while how close is the sky to the ground? took us as deep into the backwoods as we could get, without being feasted upon by chiggers, drunjus throw us an unexpected curve ball with its twenty minute counterpart, chthonic exterior. the swirling ambiance that they've got going on in the background, whether man-made or natural, i can't really tell, is a logical continuation of the first track's feel. i think this is key since everything else is not such a logical continuation. drunjus are joined on this track by fellow wisconsin denizen and synth player crystal dragon (?) (beats me), and his pattern of tones, mixing beautifully with an enveloping drone, provide a strong, memorable melody, which had been absent. exterior will airily drift on, even as slightly noisy undertones are added, none of which can pull them from the lulling cloud that they've perched themselves atop. when the synth line becomes less structured and noticeable, that space is then occupied by great wind instrumentation (i dunno, sometimes it sounds like a harmonica, other times like a saxophone.. melodica?). eventually, crystal dragon will work his way back towards prominence with the synthesizer by way of catchy, deep fluctuating drones and revving tones. outstanding track. i love that they don't abandon droning as the center of attention, but, rather, present it in an entirely different package than we'd previously heard. fun fact: the word drunjus is ye olde timey speak for drone, putting this group in a close tie with the five americans and a band in terms of most appropriate names ever. so, if you're a fan of droning music, you're assuredly in good hands with the duo whose name means drone and that also features a dude who goes by endless. yes, you need this. |
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Century Plants Bloodrise Foxy Digitalis The layering of sound is really pertinent on this recording, as each layer reveals an intricate subtly underneath its frozen surface. Delicate textures and distant moans weave their way through a howling wind of guitar skree. The most intriguing new feature to the Century Plantsâ arsenal are the vocals; distant guttural utterances pull the listener deep into the dark swirling miasma of âBloodriseâ expounding unintelligible diatribes, whispering secrets of the universe, or something else equally arcane. The mood offered up here is extremely tense, dark and utterly spellbinding. Every time I listen I get sucked in further, revealing a rich tapestry of textures. Itâs a difficult recording to do anything to but listen; focus keeps shifting back to the music, placing you in a deep trance. The sheer intensity of this set can almost be overwhelming, even in the end when things begin to dissipate the tension remains as an eerie near silence ensues. That is until the clapping snaps you out of âBloodriseâsâ dark trance, and forces you back to reality. Its rather uncertain what could happen if one were left alone to face that ending without the reminder that youâre listening to a performance and not lost in a dark abyss. 9/10 -- Cory Card (4 March, 2008)
The Ear Conditioned Nightmare Despite the crowd, council was held indeed. Century Plants opened and they were stellar with their duel guitar gravity hammers. The crowd was a bit nervous it looked, but they got into it eventually and were surprisingly willing to engage with the stuff so I guess powers of good do remain in the world. Sunburned followed and despite about ten minutes of chatter in the beginning of the set they had that place doing the Binger Blitz in no time, fists pumping, little girls doing ballet, etc. Figures that the kids were the ones really getting into it, as their naive ears are yet to be turned on to the smooth sounds of Kenny G and the like. Can I hear a hallelujah?! So after the show, of course, I picked up some merch. Century Plants were nice enough to introduce themselves and lay a Peasant Magik 3" on me for free seeing as how they had read my last review and all. I snagged the other two they were selling and a nice Sunburned tape which is sure to get the review treatment soon enough as well. Nice night for the buyins, as was to be expected. So I had heard a lot of hype over this Bloodrise number and, as I mentioned in the last Century Plants review, it was a show that I actually attended but had missed due to late arrival, so it's nice to at least have it on record. But boy was I bummed to have found out I missed this one. The first minute or so is just ringing approach, kinda like those ripples in the glass of water when the T. Rex approaches in Jurassic Park. You know what I'm talking about. Then the train arrives, and its all dense no-man's land drone from there out. Whereas everything else I've heard by the duo is pretty guitary--not to say that they don't coax some whiley snippets from their strings--this one is all shimmering drenched out reverb mayhem. Like demons surrounding you on your decent to hell, whispering in your ears about the horrors that they have and will commit. And bats. Lots of bats. Hell, this shit is downright gothic, some kind of descent into the wildery depths of the darkest holes. It's not really important to know just what's making the sounds on this 20 minute knock-out. Vocals definitely make their way in and out in some form or another, even a cymbal crash or something. But mostly this is just steady riffy droning. Six minutes in, and there's no looking back. The hole was scary before, but now it's kill or be killed, and I've never seen Century Plants back down from a battle of survival. There aren't many units out there that can create something with this much character or depth. A certain intimacy is attainable when you only have one other person to converse with, and they create a deep sonic spectrum that holds maximum potential for slight changes that cause seismic shifts in the weight of the work. All sounds ring freely off the walls of the Helderberg House (or Palace, as it's referred to in the stunning--no, really--packaging) basement. Maybe that's why it's so cold in this one. Just two guys wailing in the confines of an Albany basement. Maybe it was John and Tovah Olson in attendance, maybe it was the crowd, or maybe it was the drugs that warm summer's eve. Whatever it was, Bloodrise slays, displaying new depth for an already exciting outfit. I liked Century Plants before. From here on, I'm gettin it all. |
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Oak / Pet Coffins / Pillars of Heaven / Pink Desert
The Wire
Foxy Digitalis What else can I say? The whole experience is touching and personal and feels completely unpretentious. There is brilliance boiling below the surface and musical meditation is emerging from a new generation of artists. Each with their own unique reimagining of this seductive and revealing music. Even if you've been following along, it's still worth picking up to hear the new voices and ideas. 10/10 -- Charles Franklin |
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Alistair Crosbie Sad Faces of the Moon The WIRE
Cassette Gods
Tape Hiss / Fox Digitalis The tape splits into equal halves, but the symmetry ends there. The sides are radically different in their source sounds, clarity, intent, and effect. The deeply processed A-side is derived from vocal recordings but sounds as if no human exists within ten miles of it. Composed of several layers of unnerving sibilance, the track does not suggest whispers or moans; rather all traces of human affect are removed, leaving only the record of gaseous movement. The tape upends the semiotics of the human voice, erasing the link between breath and vitality and replacing it with a cold physical processâBrownian motion across a gradient, oxygen leaking from a craft adrift in deep space. Keyboards build the B-side, and the relationship between final product and source is far more transparent here. Rumbling distortion begins the piece, but soon eerie liturgical fragments rise from the earthy mass, ascending to tranquility. But the tone remains austere, and the ethereal, transcendent sounds distant. While much ambient music attempts to lift the listener to a place of spiritual enlightenment or metaphysical unity via sound, this tape instead reminds the listener of the impossible gap between the physical and spiritual. The ugliness and solidity of meat enters in the form of the crackles and distortionâa physical residue that degrades the airy tones. The coincidence of dirty and clean does not resolve but instead builds to a pitch of disorientation emphasized by judicious stereo-panning entering later in the track. Of course, itâs a stretch to extract so much meaning from a one-off cassette release, but take that as an expression of the immersive nature of the tape. Iâll be eagerly hunting future releases.
The Milk Factory Unlike last yearâs relatively tranquil The Lonesome Age Of Mirrors, both of these records have the feel of desolation explored, although that is not to say that what we get is bleak or despairing. Sad Faces Of The Moon, for instance, is like a world in itself â neither good nor bad, but dark, dense and crammed with glowering intensity. In a way, it could easily stand as an alternative soundtrack to Kubrickâs 2001: A Space Odyssey, with Crosbieâs music regularly evoking monoliths of one sort or another. He would deny it, of course, but it might even be a counterpoint to Pink Floydâs Dark Side Of The Moon. Yet whereas Floydâs opus on lunacy was stained with flower-pressed melodiousness, Crosbie is more interested in the flip-side of melody, and with harrowing, echoing vacancies. His mordant sense of humour, witnessed recently in an interview with this website, is subsumed here beneath the crumbling sound sculptures he builds and destroys. But his obvious seriousness is an asset rather than a drain on collections as strikingly adventurous as these. These releases are if anything companion piece studies in emptiness, although they vary with their subtle changes of approach. Forest Of Swollen Eyes is more percussive and more recognisably human, with flickers of guitar occasionally combining to offer distant reference points. The Wrong Shade Of Blue, for instance, would probably fit well on a post-rock primer syllabus, with its scattered guitar strums emerging from columns of distorted feedback. I Whispered My Name So Quietly And Yet Somehow You Still Heard Me is another in this vein, book-ending the release with a drawn-out coda of wailing guitars. Sad Faces is more about brooding, rumbling studio noise, often difficult to unpick amid the waves of feedback-soaked intensity. Where Forest is at least distantly human, Sad Faces sounds more like the whirring heartbeat of a dying machine. Menacing, overwhelming, yet often enigmatically lyrical, it remains somehow deeply personal despite its untraceable origins. Crosbie is producing music at a rate that is difficult to keep up with these days. But with these two releases we are seeing the makings of a true auteur of sound, in the proper sense of that word. Where Kubrick in the cinema saw humans as distant pin-pricks on his cosmic map, though, Crosbie seems to be looking far beyond them and above â to the howling face of the infinite itself. That might sound almost ludicrously po-faced, but listen to these records and it soon becomes clear â this is a man who needs to be recognised.
Sad Faces Of The Moon 4.2/5
Auxiliary Out âSide Aâ despite being all voice sounds insanely alien. I mean, I know people have effects and whatnot in this day and age, but itâs hard to believe the sounds on here originally came from a human. The side is really chilly and placid, reminiscent of the more sedate numbers of Double Leopards when they were still operating. There are some rhythmic-ish loops but theyâre buried about six feet under so youâre really only hearing their ghosts. I feel like Iâm on a phantom beach letting waves wash over me. Mostly the water is gentle but occasionally Iâll get splashed in the face by a shot of high pitched fuzz. Crosbie made a smart gesture putting âmoonâ in the title, because this tape is all moonlight and mist. âSide Bâ is a bit warmer while maintaining continuity with the first track. It almost sounds as if there is an arpeggio going on but the track is so zoned out itâs probably not worth trying to figure out. A little way in though some other less droney sounds fade in. Iâm having trouble identifying what they are exactly which is always a good sign. To me it sounds like a swirling but rhythmic bout of feedback being looped. But other times I think Iâm hearing clipped up words or samples so who knows. The piece slumbers along until a pleasant comedown. Iâm having trouble pinpointing a specific reference point for the track so Iâll just say it maintains an abstract rhythmic pulse without relinquishing any lunar droniness whatsoever. The packaging is classy, top-notch style as is expected when youâre dealing with Peasant Magik merchandise. A clear tape with a printed label comes with a 4 panel color, fold-out j-card. Itâs topped off with a tracing paper-like slip that goes over the cover and the tape with title, info and the Peasant Magik logo on the side so you can find it on your shelf with ease. Real slick. Limited to 100 but it looks like Peasant Magik still has a few copies so grab one before they are gone, because when Summer rolls around you are gonna be longing for that winter chill. |
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A. Jarvis She Is Also Phasing Decay States Blog
Smooth Assailing jarvis will get this cassette off to a sublime start with the a side's empyrean. there's a terrific background howl, that sounds like a hollow breeze, which will rise and slowly descend into feather soft oscillations. also occupying space in the distance is a light, wavy drone and a layer of inoffensive fluttering electronic noise that periodically weaves in and out of the mix. all of this occurs around a thoughtful series of plucked strings, which will continually repeat. after a few minutes, andy incorporates a bit of improvisational drumming that embodies the spastic nature of free jazz fills, but he'll opt for a less heavy-handed approach. this gives empyrean a sense of restlessness, but due to the understatedness of it, it won't conflict with the serenity that he had been establishing. well, i just looked up the word empyrean and it means the highest heaven. seems appropriate. the second side's first piece, encomium, begins by utilizing the same series of electronic raps that side a ended with, before quickly turning into an awesome track of.... anthemic synth? well, i wasn't expecting this! ha, wicked. i can't help but love that deep fuzzy synth lead. the additional sounds that shoot up into the sky like fireworks are also great. once an additional layer of synthesizer plays underneath the main loop, the song will start to get borderline cheesy, but in the best possible way. i was surprised to find out that encomium does not mean "the 80's", but instead, means a formal expression of praise.i'll spare you the intrigue, the last track's definition is "a plant that grows on another plant, but not like a fungus". its title is epiphyte. curse you, andy jarvis, and your knowledge of fancy words which begin with the letter e. again, this will pick up the concluding undercurrent it inherited from encomium, this time it's some static that sounds like rain, mixed with faint noises. then, in come the buzzing drones and a beautiful pattern of tones that echo with a nice bell-like resonance. upon listening to this, i started having dĂŠjĂ vu, and then it dawned on me; the four main notes that are repeating here, are just like the ones on side a, and the drones are similar, too. the main difference is that, instead of introducing a nuanced contradiction of sounds, andy will employ a layer of wandering synth, which will agreeably blend into epiphyte's atmosphere. she is also phasing sounds lovely, looks it, too, and also taught me words that i'll never have any real world use for.
Animal Psi |
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Helm The Illuminated Factory Animal Psi
Smooth Assailing if younger wanted to stick with the avian names, bird of paradise would've been very apt on this cassette. okay, so technically it's a flower, but whatever, it's got bird in the name. side a's opener, illuminated factory, works itself around warm droning ambiance, initially incorporating a great loop of ringing sound. the repetition of that, in conjunction with the endless sensation of the droning, proves to be an outstanding marriage. buried underneath the happy couple are sporadic guitar tones and atmospheric tremolo'd drone. for the first six minutes or so, illuminated will have a fairly settled-in tone, but there's just enough variation applied to everything to give off a sense of gradual evolution. the ringing will eventually become less and less pronounced until it submits into steady waves of drone, which will signal an overall shift in the track; multi-layered droning is more emphatically focused, as the additional accoutrements are stripped away, but factory still feels warm and cozy. by scaling back the lushness of his drones for the other track on the first side, sceptre, luke will craft something that's even more beautiful. the main drone is gently swaying warmth that's a good deal subtler than what was on the last track, but no less effective. the melody of it is sublime. outside of this he'll only add the faintest of flourishes; a swinging pendulum of softly delayed droning and a touch of background reverb. sweetly understated. the eighteen and a half minutes of side b's hearts like broken motors aren't as completely sun soaked. there's a slightly undulating humming drone at the forefront and a consistent warmer one creeping up from the back. these high and low tones will vie for supremacy for four minutes until rising guitar drones come in, doing a terrific job of loosening the monotony. this is just about the sum of the first twelve minutes, then the prominent mechanical drone assumes a lesser role in the mix as new layers of blissful ambiance build up to overtake hearts. when i looked at the bleak artwork of this, provided by james from black horizons, i was expecting something a hell of a lot different... illuminated factory ended up being a lovely cassette of enchanting drones and ambiance, with just the right amount of attention given to accentuating details which kept the tape interesting, without taking the focus away from the drones. |
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One Master Forsaking A Dead World Metalicos Many adjectives are used to describe the black sound: raw, cold, minimalistic⌠but such labels end up turning into clichĂŠs. Itâs simple: you like or not, period. One Master captures the listener because what they do, they do it well. âForsakingâŚâ is a harsh album, like Danteâs travel through hell while guided by poet Virgil. In my opinion the production is a highlight, because it blackens the sound of every instrument to the core âthough is true that the bass is well buried in the mixâ, and this gives great stability to the whole thing even in the slowest moments like on Chill of the Grave, a dark hymn with powerful riffs that show with great heaviness due to the mid-tempo drumming. The inclusion in their sound of some thrash elements gives enough variety to the rhythm guitar arrangements, and on certain passages we can even hear how some thrash-driven riff becomes the main element. However, the melodic guitars are the ones that claim lordship over this opus, well fed with tremolo riffs that work pretty well in general âThe Testâ is another highlight on this recording, built with the aggressiveness of Stabwoundâs blast beats from the beginning and offering the best tremolo of the album towards the end, beautiful and fast. âForsaking..â is a black metal album made with a spirit and sound we already know, and in this sense is not an offering of something unexplored or groundbreaking, in many aspects is even traditional, but its value resides in the fact that it rescues key elements of the purest black metal and the genre followers know how to appreciate that, and even though it displays a known sound, the quality is there. Not a couple months ago, One Master was at the studio recording what will be their next album, whose title is âThe Quiet Eye of Eternityâ, and if we base our opinion on the quality of the material reviewed here, the expectations for the next album are good. Weâll keep an eye on the work of this band.
Smooth Assailing the distorted guitar noise and initial riffs that open up the dark tower aren't grim at all, then, when stabwound's jet propelled blast beats join in, things get beautifully thrashy. valder's vocal style is a slow croak that never gets caught up in the fast pacing of the music. he'll groan out a few words, sometimes lingering on the final syllable for a few seconds, then employs a space buffer, before delivering the next lyrical disjunction, and so on. since it's hard to come away with anything substantive from the vocals (i prefer to just look past them), due to valder's particular style, the music that they're making ultimately serves as both verse and chorus. the guitar playing is memorable, the drumming, relentless, and it's one master's killer shifts in dynamics that are doing it for me. change plays a huge role to forsaking. instead of being abrupt distractions that are meant to stave off monotony, they're something more calculated. it's because of this that they're able turn good jamming into great passages, by constantly coming back to the same pattern. the repetition of it slowly works its way into your head and all of a sudden you're just kind of struck by how much this shit rules. the seven and a half minutes of chill of the grave is a perfect example. the dynamics to this song hinge, particularly, on the pace of the drumming. there's no rapid-fire pummel to be found, as the bpm fluctuate between sixty and thirty, but after they emerge from the slower patterns and pick things up again, it's outstanding. the vocals are used more sparingly and during their extended absences i find myself thinking that it should always be like this. the cathartic kit abuse makes its reentry with the last track on side a, the test. in fact, it's the song's saving grace. the maniacal thrash of the drumming as well as stabwound's flippant tempo changes are fucking astounding. it's actually rather difficult to grasp that a human being is able to do this. first, there's the fact that most people's arms would fall off if they attempted this shit, second is how the hell does one even remember all of these changes? dang. the riffs aren't bad, but aren't as gratifying as on the first two tracks... well, except for towards the end... though, i'm repeatedly listening to this right now and it's slowly growing on me. as for the finale, after an almost "too metally" passage that starts at 3:37 and lasts until 4:37, they pull their shit together and team up for some awesome riffing, which is made even better by ditching the vocals at the exact time that the song changes. unholy grimness brings back the continually good sounding guitars and blast beats. the break-neck speed of the drumming is always welcome, but my favorite thing about this is when it's slowed down and the guitars and drums work together in rhythmic unison, which has rarely been the case. thrashing about is cool and all, but when you can sneak in great cohesion in between the chaos, that's even better. oh, but one thing that tops that is three fucking, distinct, cohesive jams butted right up against in each other. the second half of this slays. alright, close your eyes (wait! do it after you finish reading this sentence) and picture a pirate: scruffy beard, scurvy, poor hygiene, maybe a little parrot on his shoulder, tattered clothes, and, fuck it, a peg leg. okay, visualize it. now imagine that dude fronting a metal band and you'll have a good grasp of what valder sounds like on master of the past and present. i swear it sounds like he says "yaaarrrrrrr" quite a few times during this. "future" turns into "fewtch yaaaaaaarrrrrr" and it pleases me immensely, though, i was deeply saddened to find that pirate metal is an already established sub genre. beyond that, this is probably the weakest song of the set. it, and the next song, feature vocals more prominently than the others did. the thing that's most noticeably off with this song is the absence of dynamics. there are a few changes, with the guitars, which sound fine, but the drumming is just a consistent pummel even when the riffs change, the drumming continues at three hundred beats per minute. it takes a song like this one to fully realize just how important their drummer is... and maybe i misspoke when i said that the fast pace drumming is always a good thing. valder sounds like a pirate on i, magus, too. man, if he insists on this style, he should refrain from saying "you are", "fire" or any word that ends in "er". the quality of music, as well as the dynamics, will go back to picking up the slack (read: trying to atone for the singing), but they can't quite compensate. i went from being nonplussed by this the first time that i heard it to liking it a lot; however, i can't hide my disdain for the vocals. if you're into metal, you probably won't hate them as much as i do, but argh. or, should i say arrrrrrr. the music is too good to be undermined by vocals which add absolutely nothing. i'd rather just be blown away by their instrumentation than spend my time trying to listen to what valder's talking about. thankfully, on their best songs it's pretty easy to forget, or at least forgive, the vocals since they're sparsely used and everything else is so much better, but when they factor in more prominently, it becomes harder to block them out. it'd be a different story if there was lyrical structure. valder's voice isn't bad, it's just unnecessary. akitsa's got a froggy kind of style about him, too, but i love akitsa. there's repetition to what he does (and the music rules), making it a lot easier to digest. this is one of one master's first recordings (i believe, since it was recorded in 2006), so there's a strong possibility that they can realize what their strengths (dynamics, drumming, guitars) and weakness(es) as a group are and make adjustments. forsaking a dead world still rules (especially the first thirty-eight minutes), despite what i think are a few missteps. unlike most metal that's given to me, there's songs on this that i'll listen to for pleasure, not just because i'm obligated to.
Metal Archives It took me a few listens, but I can safely say that One Master's debut album, 'Forsaking A Dead World', is one of those releases which very nearly achieves total transparency with the audience. It's so good it's almost unnoticably good; listening to it is a purely enjoyable experience that seems to refuse extensive evaluation on the part of the listener, so pure are its musical values. It took me a while to warm up to, actually; a couple absent minded listens made me file it into the 'good but unremarkable' category, but after listening to it in its entirety during a nighttime highway drive, I can safely say that it's one of the best USBM albums to come out in several years, and it's all the more amazing because it doesn't need to do anything unusual to achieve that distinction. The members of the band are simply very accomplished, natural songwriters, and it's shown in music where a misstep is not only never heard, but the idea of one never even enters the mind of the listener. It's just fantastic and while listening you can only detect the utter clarity of vision it takes to release something of such simple, undeniable quality. One Master takes all the conventions of traditional, raw Norwegian-style black metal and makes a fantastic album out of them. The voices are simple: distorted guitar, somewhat audible bass, snarling, declarative vocals, and simple, driving drums, but out of this simplicity arises enormously nuanced music. In this way, it reminds me of Gorgoroth's 'Pentagram' very strongly, in that the music speaks for itself and feels no need to adhere to anyone's rules. Like early Gorgoroth, the riffing style is not immediately comparable to any other band simply because the band, very logically, had no other artist in mind when deciding to compose this music. It is the sort of album that could have arisen on its own without the genre of 'black metal' as we know it, simply because this is not music made to adhere to the standards of black metal, but music created which simply happens to fit the black metal form. This is a riff-dominated album, with a dark, gothic, medieval sense of melody about it which is very refreshing when compared to the overly sleek, ultra-modern tremolo patterns found in so many black metal bands these days. It seems the band is very definitely going for a middle ages feel with this music; the melodic sense and lyrics are simply too evocative to be anything else. The riffs are incredibly developed, remarkably so, passing through numerous moods not only throughout songs, but mid-riff, showing a GENUINE complexity in writing, not the mere illusion of such crafted by using lots of notes in one place. The music is at times daringly minimal but no less lush and rich in aesthetic detail than it is at even the most complex moments. One Master uses the basic lexicon of black metal- blast beats, tremolo riffs, power chords, thrash beats, harsh vocals- and crafts something new and exciting with them in a time when being genuinely excited by a black metal release is exceedingly rare. 'Forsaking A Dead World' is a phenomenal debut album from a band that does not simply 'have potential', but has reached it long ago. I cannot recommend this release enough to any and all black metal fans out there: if you give this release a chance, you will come away with something of definite greatness which reveals something new on every listen.
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Lanterns Lughnasadh Hawaiian Winter Music The three tracks on this album are very well thought out and make good use of gradually developing elements. The drones elements are dark and organic with a nice sense of space. The music varies between very busy and very sparse movements and keeps the listener interested via many amorphous textures throughout the music. Overall, this album is quite well done. 7.5/10
Auxiliary Out So anyhow, Lugnasadh has 3 tracks just like Lanterns got members. The first is the awesomely titled âInectoplasmic Bluesâ. I dig the ragged arrangement on this one; there are a bunch of elements on this: a couple guitars, various percussion (drums, cymbals, shakers), flute and some vocal coos and moans. Aesthetically, the track is similar to the ilk of 6majik9 or Brothers of the Occult Sisterhood, but with a slightly muffled quality. While retaining that fragmented aesthetic though, the group keeps everything moving in a surprisingly focused direction. Also, at certain points different elements appear at the forefront, as if they all rotated, taking turns standing closest to the microphone. Iâm not sure how they did that (mixing maybe?) but itâs a cool little effect. âSumaâ follows and skews to the more dronier side of things. Beginning with a single high-pitched whine and incorporating, bit by bit, other sustained tones, a garbled vocal sample, subtle additions on guitar, a simple, muted drum pattern and something that sounds bowed but it may just be a keyboard or something. The whole ordeal is pretty placid and hypnotic, and floats along on the fluttery sustain of organ tones. Really easy to get lost in. Especially the insanely brief and insanely beautiful guitar outro. Come on Lanterns! The track could have run for at least another three minutes on that little baby alone and you gave me about 20 seconds worth. So other than the track ending much too soon, itâs a real nice piece. The final track, âMongâ is a good deal longer than the previous two. It begins similarly to âSumaâ but focuses more on low frequency guitar sustain and vague, disembodied vocals. There are strange almost squelching type sounds poking through in the background as well. Lanterns create a very pleasant fog, almost like the time at night when your body is getting tired and ready for bed and you feel peaceful in your submission to sleep. Maybe thatâs not how nights are for other people, but, for me, âMongâ has that same restless calm. The track builds gradually as hushed cymbal clatter tiptoes in. Iâm wondering if the squelching sounds from the beginning are actually heavily effected cymbals. Eventually a more formal drumbeat is composed taking the track to its final fadeout. All in all, itâs a nice trance maybe a bit like a less acoustic GHQ or the most singularly sloshed (VxPxC) moments. Lugnasadh is still available from Peasant Magik and comes in a slimline snapcase with wraparound artwork by Mel (Crowley?) from Ashtray Navigations and a pasted-on insert inside. Limited to 100 so make your move. |
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Ajilvsga Thorazine to Infinity Hawaiian Winter Music The two sides contain some harsh, amorphous pieces that owe an equal debt to distortion pedals and Indian Raga. These sludgy drones posses a haunting quality that is lost on much of the noise music going on today. Overall this would be a good addition to the collection of any fan of their previous work, or anyone interested in where the noise scene is going these days. 7/10
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Weather Exposed Skeleton Music An Axe Through All This Hawaiian Winter Music Whether you are looking for a good album to which to space out or music to aurally dissect during a spare half an hour, this tape would be a nice addition to any collection. 8/10
Foxy Digitalis One obvious exception is the closing track of the second side titled â12/07/05.â Again, it rests on a distorted loop mantra, but this one feels a little more nebulous than all the other tracks. Perhaps less syncopated. More than anywhere else, Weather Exposed Skeleton Music lets the track develop into something more organic and multilayered. Rather than coming off sounding composed or with some sort of vague emotional intent, â12/25/05â is very relaxed and, for that reason, inviting. Itâs the longest track on the tape, and by the end, its slow progression pays off. Distorted synth washes, curious clamors, and the ever-present low burning cadence of looped keys all coalesce into a steadily candescent storm. Itâs a moment that you really want to listen to. That bedroom drone/psych sound is totally there, and after listening through some of the more lukewarm tracks, it sounds even better. Far from essential, but recommended for people that are looking for a little more structure in their drone life. 5/10 -- Chris Bush (29 August, 2007)
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Gallows The White Lodge Foxy Digitalis Though this single sided cassette is entitled âThe White Lodge,â it, in many ways lacks the essential qualities ascribed to the White Lodge. Instead Gallows employ the television series as a conceptual framing device for the three tracks featured on this recording, maintaining the feel of Lynchâs drama so well that they could function as an alternative soundtrack to some of the programâs sequences. The sounds are filled with a perplexing air, as if they are transmitted from somewhere very distant, almost alien, yet so vaguely familiar that they come across more as uncanny. One may occasionally detect the sounds of guitars, and possibly keyboards but they are so lost in the murk that one can never quite be sure if those are the true origins of the sounds or if they manifest themselves in a way to seem familiar. âThe White Lodgeâ begins with the ominous tones of âGreat Northern,â odd blips and bleeps that invoke a transmission of some sort intermingle with low mysterious drones. Eventually the signals take the back seat and allow the piece to develop into lament of sorts before fading back to the hiss of the cassette. The utterly dark and menacing âDweller on the Thresholdâ follows with rattling and pounding vibrations, the slightest hint of footsteps on a forest floor make themselves known, and the occasional sweep of a synthesizer is the only thing that lets you know its just the stereo. The final track, âThe Owls Are Not What They Seem,â drags you deeper into the tangled depths of Ghostwood Forest, with deep howling tones and foreboding clicks and scrapes. Just before the darkness becomes too much a piano moves its way into the mix banishing the darkness, but leaving you feeling rather uncomfortable. Now if only there were a second side, but then again, I donât know if Iâd want to go there. 8/10 -- Cory Card (5 February, 2008)
Hawaiian Winter Music
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Blown Doors
Hawaiian Winter Music
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Bjerga / Iversen Electric Tranquilizer Hawaiian Winter Music This cassette has two side-long pieces that vary significantly from each other, possibly due in part to the two year span between the recording dates of each piece. Side A was the more ethereal and enjoyable of the two pieces and aptly demonstrated a clear musical idea which tended to drift along at an indeterminable pace, ebbing and flowing throughout the fifteen minute side it occupies. Side B however was more mechanical in both tone and tambre choices as well as musical communication and seemed to get a bit monotonous a few minutes into the track. Nevertheless the piece does pick up a little direction and momentum in the second half before coming to a nice, almost glacial halt. Over all I would say that this tape is a nice starting point for anyone not yet exposed to the experimental culture that seems to be growing in Norway right now, and is an interesting portrait of the duo and their progresion over the last few years that would be interesting for fans if their other work. 7/10
Foxy Digitalis Personally, however, I prefer the track on the B-side, the magnificently titled âSurrounded by Fakersâ. Combining brooding guitar drones with stumbling clatter, this is the heavier of the two tracks, striking out with full force towards the end when buzz and feedback manage to drench the electronic effects for a while. This piece may be less coherent and less well-composed than its counterpart but it I still prefer it for its sounds alone. Adorned with beautiful spray painted cover art and coming with a business-card-sized insert, this tape on the reliable Peasant Magik label is limited to 50. It has been out for a while but it seems to be still available, even from the label itself. Frankly, Iâve got no idea why for this is an excellent addition to the duoâs extensive catalogue. I, for one, will definitely pick up more Bjerga / Iversen in the future. 7/10 -- Jan-Arne Sohns (24 October, 2007)
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CJA They Took Him From A Cross & Laid Him In A Tomb Cassette Gods
Foxy Digitalis âTaken Off a Crossâ finds Noone adopting his CJA mask and stripping most of the murk from his sound. Comprised mostly of barely there guitar strums and ghostly wordless vocals, this cassette is a collage of material left off of the monumental âIroncladâ album. The theme here is hopelessness, melancholy, and pointlessness. The artwork pokes fun at Christianity, whose followers hope for an approaching salvation via the second coming of a sacrificial of a god-man. âTaken Off a Crossâ spits on hope and wallows in emptiness with each emaciated strum and every hollow note. Is it depressing? Of course! Do we love it? Undoubtedly! 7/10 -- Bryon Hayes (26 February, 2008) |
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Teeth Collection Sloth Movement Cassette Gods |
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Pillars of Heaven Silver Tusks Vol. I Foxy Digitalis The opening track, âDrifter,â takes a B-line to euphoria employing a straightforward drone and simple bass melody thatâs a placcid skyline and sunset eyes. It is a style certainly with precedent, but this piece remains affecting, especially as the joyous vox enter the homespun chorus toward the latter half of the track. These ten-minutes pass nicely with a few moments of dreaminess, I must admit, though its effect doesnât sink so deeply with repetition. âWinter is Comingâ tries vaguely at foreboding with a two-chord organ wheeze, but can only gain credit as a feedback skit used to break up the good vibes, though hinged by its uninspired brevity. âAngels Ablaze,â closing out the lone side, is a fifteen-minute toy synth love-in, all dull sparkles and cherub coos, which wastes half of its duration waiting for the spark to burn down this Roccoco overdose. The track never stops blowing out serene pink clouds, though further tones thankfully emerge about seven minutes in, pumping blood into thin euphoria, serving to temper the mood to a palatable level. The drone consistently thickens in its distortion and low tones for the remaining time before the eventual fade-out, leaving the album off at its strongest moment. Ultimately I feel as though Iâm being harsh toward a project of such delicacy. Not too long ago, I would have had an easier time appreciating the tape at a passive level. But at a time when there is so much ambient and drone work being produced that can be called essential, sounds like this are easy to skip over. Yes, this tape is slightly disappointing to me, but this doesnât deter my interest in future work from this project and this series of tapes from Pillars of Heaven. My tastes arenât far divergent, just not quite sastisfied. 6/10 -- Kenneth Zubiate (27 February, 2007)
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Hawaiian Winter Music Just as before, the packaging for this tape shows a lot of effort, and is as asthetically pleasing to the eye as to the ear. The tape begins with a subtle pulsing section that, like any post minimalist music, reminded me of Steve Reich. He executes this well though and the timbres and sound sources chosen for the tape not only flow together but tend to create a bed of sound soft enough to rest many a drone-tired ear. Don't get me wrong, this is drone music, but it is pleasant enough to the ear to nearly attain the soothingness of a lullaby of sorts (albeit a bit strange for most children). POH sticks to sounds pleasant enough for just about anyone remotely interested in drone music, but threatens to alienate inexperienced listeners at times. Throughout the tape POH demonstrates a sound that is both unique and mature and, if approached similarly in the future, will only get better. His use of shimmering tones coming from what sounds like an organ and guitar make this release an exellent buy for fans of drone, ambient and just people who enjoy spacing out every once in a while. 8/10
Auxiliary Out If yr into mind floating arrangments (and who isnât these days?) I suggest checking both these suckers out. There are still copies available dirt cheap direct from Peasant Magik but they are super limited, PoH is limited to 50 and PD to a measly 36! So, ya know, act fast. Iâm not sure what Peasant Magik has next on tap but itâll probably be smokinâ. As for the artists, Pink Desert has some tapes and LPs on the way while Pillars of Heaven will be supplying Silver Tusks Vol. 2 courtesy of Epicene Sound Systems/Epicene Sound Replica sometime in the future, Iâll be keeping my eye out for that one. |
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Slow Listener Bad Coffee Day Foxy Digitalis Yes, the palette is rather simple on this cassette: plenty of feedback from unknown sources, electronic effects, maybe a synthesizer or two I cannot confirm. And while this set-up may conjure images of the latest batch of uninspired pedal noise, Slow Listener lives up to the improbable moniker as his tonal creations unfold with patience and a keen ear for effect. The A-side is split into two songs which flow together seamlessly for twenty outstanding minutes. âTerrible Downâ begins with a few light tones and a bit of grinding distortion, each element inexorably connected as they are subtly manipulated. For every passing minute, new sounds join into the interplay, as old sounds reemerge, slightly altered, to counteract. Carefully, the mix thickens in volume and as the familiar elements give the composition definition and the new elements push the track forward. This track abruptly cuts into âOndras,â which opens with shortwave radio styled electronics that are acerbic to the ear but are soon diluted by humming feedback tones that oscillate to dimensional prominence. There is an incredible sense of balance on the A-side between the abrasiveness and serenity that only unsubtle feedback can create, executed to perfection by Slow Listener. But the balance on the A-side gradually diminishes throughout the duration of the B. Youâd expect a coffee-referencing title to be heavy on the bitterness and that seems to be the modus operandi for these twenty minutes, sounding like a photo negative in contrast to the clarity of the A. Coincidentally, I tried listening to this while drinking bad coffee this morning. The abrasive ambience of âRoessler Kâ and Folgers flavor crystals (who bought this shit?) did little to sour my initial impressions. This track is composed with similar techniques as âTerrible Down,â but comes off just a little harder on the ears. We close with the awesomely-titled âHolidays Are For People Who Hate Their Life.â It may sound as though your Âźâ cable came slightly unplugged, but the tones never reach complete stasis before they are chopped into slivers and twisted through space. This track may lack in some of the dynamics that so impressed on the rest of the tape, but still holds weight as expertly-manipulated feedback experiment that produces an awesome array of noise textures. Props to Salvatore Giorgi, label head for Peasant Magik, for putting together this awesome tape package with nice artwork by cartoonist James Ulmer on heavy card stock insert. You should start buying this stuff now because it looks like Slow Listener is getting up in a big way with a ton of releases slated for the coming year on a ton of awesome labels including Ruralfaune and Celebrate Psi Phenomenon. This tape certainly proves his pedigree as an awesome new talent in the perpetually-engaging, never-endangered sphere of free-noise. 8/10 -- Kenneth Zubiate (27 March, 2007)
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Josh Lay Hater of Life Cassette Gods
Foxy Digitalis If youâre into dark, distorted drones, âHater of Lifeâ will be right up youâre corroded alley. Both sides (titled âHaterâ and âLifeâ respectively) work off pedal noise and tape manipulation developed slowly over twelve-minutes but well worth the patience. Over the twenty-five minutes, we swing through a chasm well executed, atmospheric noise with plenty of abrasive moments that can be eerily soothing with such a bass heavy sound palette. If given a choice as to the better of the two, I would say âHaterâ is the standout side, a dark heart throb that is synthetic evil and b-movie terror inside a room of suffocating blackness. Though Josh Lay wears his misanthropy on his sleeve for this project, such a static, black exploration of the wall (though, in this case, not nearly as harsh as its west-coast practitioners) has a nihilistic undertone implicit. It is the idea of unending, unrepentant evil without pause. Well, thatâs where the second side fails. I donât know if this is part of the composition, recording, or just a dubbing error, but the drone falls off at several points leaving unwelcome gaps that ruin the second half of the track that otherwise is a great Haters-esque piece of static noise. All in all, âHater of Lifeâ is good not-fun for you depressive loners who like unrelenting black noise that can crush the sadness through the back of their skull. Did I say this was âblackâ yet? But donât be put off by the noise tag, even the serene drone heads can get into a tape like this. And with a monster portrait and upside down crosses on the cover, you know youâve got a ledge in your room ready for this bad boy. 7/10 -- Kenneth Zubiate
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Smooth Assailing side a's hater begins with competing low and mid-level drones, the second of which, in dipping up and down, often brushes up against the very top of the audio mix. to that he'll introduce an additional drone that pans nicely between the speakers. after pleasantly drifting along like this for awhile, hater's shaken out of its daydreaming state with feedback, at first, and then ungodly (but oh so sublime) bursts of rhythmic clatter, buried underneath the droning. once that noise settles down it's left up to the rad, slow whirl of feedback to serve as the stopgap in between each of lay's singular, powerful drum bangs. as soon as the feedback begins to spike again, all hell resumes to break loose, but this time it ushers in great squealing manipulations and elongated, shifting tonal play. the pattern that arises from his cycle of manipulating to the un-affection of the tones is incredible. that he keeps the previous combination of spaced out drums and melodic feedback even furthers that feeling. the other piece, life, rolls out into sparser terrain, consisting of deep, distorted throbs of rhythm with random complimentary clamor left to (somewhat) fill out the emptiness of the background. those will be joined by a terrific drone that gets broken into shards of stuttery distortion by the percussion. i really dig those slight rhythmic ripples that are produced by it. once the introductory, amped up, drums become a less noticeable factor, josh keeps the interrupted manner of the droning intact and proceeds to incorporate that as his main foundation, adding various nuanced sounds to it, but not a whole lot else in that opening movement. after three minutes, his affected vocals become an integral factor, though they're so mixer tweaked that they don't sound like someone's actual voice; scraping low end noise derived from lay's throaty howls, aided by random hissing noises, on occasion. the way that he often relies on just the strength of his killer droning, and just punctuating that with his dreadful vocal noise, gives them more of an impact. in life's second half, his voice will assume a larger role, deviating a bit from just the blown-out hums and abrasions; proffering clearer and pointedly grimmer exclamations. the remaining minutes will continue to see the relationship between josh's vocal noise and his great drone play out (with some extra commotion thrown in towards the end), but the noise will eventually fade away as the drone turns into fluid waves for hater of life's most serene moments. one could almost mistake it as an optimistic conclusion... you know, considering. man, i was stoked on the poison drinker cd, but, fuck, i'm pretty sure i love this tape even more. the a side was especially amazing. i'll have the second swamp horse tape (which should be old news by now) review up next week. while i've still got a fat stack of '09 releases from peasant magik, i've also got a couple of stragglers from the first batch that was sent to me. one of which is still in print. this sold out, was re-released and then sold out again. i'll go ahead and upload this, too, unless sal tells me not to for some reason. my new policy is that i'm only going to upload (entire) things that i actually bought (which are sold out), but since this is a few years old, i think it's fine. hater of life is too good to not be heard... which, apparently, has been the case. |
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Pink Desert Black Lung Ode Music Auxiliary Out If yr into mind floating arrangments (and who isnât these days?) I suggest checking both these suckers out. There are still copies available dirt cheap direct from Peasant Magik but they are super limited, PoH is limited to 50 and PD to a measly 36! So, ya know, act fast. Iâm not sure what Peasant Magik has next on tap but itâll probably be smokinâ. As for the artists, Pink Desert has some tapes and LPs on the way while Pillars of Heaven will be supplying Silver Tusks Vol. 2 courtesy of Epicene Sound Systems/Epicene Sound Replica sometime in the future, Iâll be keeping my eye out for that one. |