Random Album Generator #458

This, folks, is the first in hopefully many posts of this kind. I decided last night to download a random number generator app for my phone in order to play a little game, shake things up. You see, I have a number of pieces of vinyl staring out from a hefty, imposing shelf at me, begging to be played. Some days I'm good about it, I love my records. Other days, I'm ignoring them to dust-collecting and whimpering unheard desires to be played, instead relying so heavily on mp3's and the portable music fiend's lifestyle. Something had to give, because feeling so inconsistent drives me nuts. It displaces a certain sense of order that my brain craves, but that I have become accustomed to undermining this last year. Stumbling drunkenly and depressingly into my room in a pre-dawn haze of, "...oh shit, I have to set my fantasy baseball lineups before I go to bed..." leaves little room for the contemplative, sedentary practice of listening to music. Something I need and want, but find that ignoring the need can throw me out of whack. And when you arrive at the impetus to change increasingly sullen patterns, you have to get creative.
My inspiration, ironically, came from sitting at a bar watching some fellow regulars play a simple chance and dice game. They would pull out a sizable volume titled The Big Bad Ass Book of Shots and they would roll a ten-sided die a pre-ordained number of times correlating to the number of pages or entries in the book, consequently drinking the shot the numbers landed them on.
Well, seeing as that I am OCD enough to keep my record collection on an excel spreadsheet, I decided to utilize the random number generator app to select an album-a-day to listen to based on its numerical place on that list.
Today's pick, #458, is Esther Phillips Confessin' the Blues, Esther's sixth album on Atlantic Records, but first in a stretch of six years. It would be her last on Atlantic.
Her familiar, piercing Southwestern nasal smoke taking center stage on Side 1 for a batch of 'standards' like "C.C. Rider". For a 1976 release, this A-side is staunchly Jazz touched, almost flying in the face of the wave of Funk- or Soul-infused directions so many of her contemporaries were testing. The B-side, doesn't buck that trend, save for the inclusion of Fender bass and a Rhodes electric piano on some tracks (the B-side is a live recording with a different group than A-side's studio roster).
I may be decidedly influenced by the recording qualities and differences from side to side, but her voice sounds half as good on the B-side as it does the A. The mic for this live set in Los Angeles is a bit too flat and doesn't open up certain tones and qualities of her voice. The room 'appears' (through its sound) to be small and laden with thick fabrics, for there is a lack of naturally positive reverb. It also lacks the equal levels that the studio tracks on the A-side possesses. Furthermore, the version of "Bye Bye Blackbird" just feels too jumpy and up-tempo to me, which drains it of its inherent melancholy.
Overall, this album is a pleasure to re-visit for probably the first time since I bought it, but I don't feel guilty for that. Hopefully the random generator won't force me back here too often...once a year or so would be cool. Or maybe I just need a fuckin' girlfriend to play records like this for.

Svarte Greiner: Penpals Forever (And Ever)

I remember seeing Deaf Center at the Triple Door during Decibel Festival's Ambient Showcase two years ago. I sat there with my friend Scott and a couple of new friends (other performers at that year's festival), all of us having our minds splattered on the hard table top in from of us and our hearts liquified in some oozing molten melancholy. I've never felt closer to a male group therapy session; beating drums and yelling amidst campfire flung light. It was clearly a shared visceral, emotional evening.

In the time since then, Deaf Center has gone on somewhat of a sabbatical . Svarte Greiner and Otto Totland having moved on to other projects without officially announcing time of death on Deaf Center. Totland has not produced at the frequency of Greiner, but made an absolutely smashing breakthrough with Nest (see my review for The Silent Ballet). Greiner has continued to pour out his scratchy, steel wool mind on scattered, ever-darkening and more haunting releases. His latest is Penpals Forever (And Ever). His music really has progressed to a point where I feel I'm listening to the soundtracking of a truly schizophrenic and deranged mind, from within, not cinematically. It's an important distinction. I won't waste my breath attempting, at this late hour, to describe the individual peaces, as they seem only movements within a whole that is not dissectable. To communicate how it feels as if actually inside a truly sick (genius?) mind, is to say that there are many noises that make me check if my own environment is making them or if they are part of the music. Intermittent drum beats that made me inspect my turntable to see if it was clicking or knocking its motor (it certainly was not). Low bass rumbles that tricked me into thinking a plane overhead my house was unusually low on its approach to Sea-Tac Airport. This truly is disturbing music; most disturbing for its addictive quality.

Score: 8.75/10

Free The Robots: Ctrl Alt Delete

Ever since I first threw this record on a few days ago, it feels and sounds like a direct descendent of Company Flow's Little Johnny From the Hospitul, an album clearly ahead of its time. Sure, the trademark click-chop LA beats are there and some slightly cheesey synth lines (check "Turbulence"), but the more dusty than digital aspect to much of the rhythm production harks back to that wake of sonic destruction laid down by El-P & Mr. Len in 1999. But 'Chris' (a Cher-like figure, I guess?), who is FTR, never sounds dated or retro. There's a taste of Dubstep style bass tones and samples that sound off time or wrongly situated in some audio processing software, but end up fitting perfectly (again, a la Little Johnny...). Some of the snare hit sounds executed here splinter and crack like a 2x4 being smashed against your studio-cup headphones. Then there is some lovely psychedelia in "Wandering Gypsy" that certainly shares some nucleic acid with Edan's Beauty & the Beat.
Make sure you have your ears checked by your local audiophile before you listen to this record, as to make sure you can handle the bass tones and rumble.
In parting, what I think I love best about the Los Angeles explosion (Flying Lotus, Deru, Noasj Thing, etc.) is that some of my armchair anthropological theories have been proven wrong. I never thought the grit and wisdom of East Coast HipHop would be infused into the slangin' West Coast style. Oh, how wrong I am, but how happy can a man be for being wrong?!?

Score: 7.5/10

Lorn: Nothing Else

Walk to your nearest record store, browse the internet to your closest music retailer, beat up that little kid on the corner with a bag of records, do whatever you can to get your hands on the newest album on Brainfeeder (Flying Lotus's label). Nothing Else is the debut album by Lorn, some kid from the 'middle of nowhere' in the Midwest. Lorn employs the same dark side of Boom Bap HipHop that Deru so enjoys, but in a context even darker and grittier. The chunkiness of his bass drum sounds are rivaled only by that big fucking fictitious asteroid that's going to demolish Earth any day now. His synthesizers are slick and dirty all at the same time, often sounding like an old ballpark organ grinder fed through a Cuisinart cheese grater. Occasionally, the amputated bits of human voices pop up and drown away just as quickly. And one of the dopest parts of this album is that while it is most certainly an album full of vicious, tooth rattling beats, you can bang your head like you're at a Metal concert until it rocks right off your spinal column. A must have for sure!

Score: 8/10

Grails Black Tar Prophecies Review on SilentBallet.com

Score: 6/10

All serious listeners and music fans have a handful of artists they believe absolutely should be more popular; they obsess over the relative obscurity of some of their favorite musicians. Portland post-rock demigod Grails is certainly one of those bands for me. Yes, the band has certainly garnered a healthy level of popularity and success, but I sense that it has hit a glass ceiling (one it's sure to crash through anytime now). Then again, it rarely sets up camp on any particular label for more than a record or two. That can be advantageous for a band (it's not tied down), but it can also constrain an act to a tier below more successful and widely known bands. With Black Tar Prophecies Vol. 4 being released on Important Records, Grails may be leaning towards a more permanent home.

Black Tar Prophecies Vol. 4 was initially rumored to be material left off of the Vol. 1, 2, & 3 album, but to these ears, that can’t be true. It’s partly due to recording qualities and styles, but also playing styles. There’s a bit more polished sound to the final mix, scrubbing away some of Grails’ signature grittiness. In the same spirit, gone are a few of the droney, opiated sounds. Yet, this is, for the majority of the EP, not a bad thing, and it is still obviously a Grails record.

The zenith of Vol. 4 materializes in the groovy “Self-Hypnosis.” For a little over eight minutes Grails pays fantastic homage to the 70's psych and stoner rock that has influenced it. Wah-wah effects and disturbingly unassuming synthesizers place this jam firmly in the hands of Aerosmith circa “Sweet Emotion” (a huge guilty pleasure of mine, by the way). On the other hand, there are dueling Pink Floyd guitars dog-fighting through international airspace. As for the drums, I sense just a touch of Ginger Baker. What’s most impressive about “Self-Hypnosis” is how all these worn-on-the-sleeve influences are packed in together but the song still retains that surge and ebb style of build-up and release known to every Grails fan. This reveals another sterling quality of the band and its music: Grails has deftly avoided the trappings of both traditional and post-rock song structures. This attribute is exactly why “Up All Night” leaves such a bitter aftertaste.

“Up All Night” has the boys from the Rose City jumping ship and doing some sort of cinematic lounge act, sans the singing of course. As the song lacks the teeth and dark soul of everything else the band has done, it sounds as though it could squeeze into place on an 80's cop dramedy as one of the more serious, introspective songs. To get a true picture of what this means, imagine a B movie adaptation of Beverly Hills Cop. “Up All Night” also really shouldn’t be the closer for this EP, because it neither bashes its way to a grand finale nor hushes the last light out of the record. This was also a problem with Take Refuge In Clean Living. “Clean Living” trudged grudgingly to a finish line that “Take Refuge” clearly deserved. In the case of “Up All Night,” it might be better served on the cutting room floor with a completely new song written to take its place as the caboose. This may sound harsh, but focus on the fact that Grails’ sound has always laid firm roots in Americana (be it Appalachian or Frontier), and the loungey, clean aesthetic of “Up All Night” scrubs that grit away. It leaves, in its wake, a sonic Las Vegas; the promise of sin and hedonism in a sterile surrounding; the finely controlled illusion of chaos, which invalidates itself with emptiness and boredom. Another testament to the strength of the band is that, after all that “Up All Night” does to sink its own ship, it has still produced another first-rate release.

While some of the darker drone and drug haze is sublimated, the almost-as-scary-as-Svarte Greiner ambient pieces, “I Want A New Drug” and “New Drug II,” add a lovely dimension to the band’s sonic canon. They both feature the stark ramblings of a preacher, who happens to sound exactly like the one from A Silver Mt. Zion’s “Broken Chords Can Sing A Little.” “I Want a New Drug” also employs a warbly, drowning sample of a choral version of “Nobody Knows The Trouble I’ve Seen,” making the opener spectacularly spine-tingling and dark. Whispered voices, one of which I swear calls my first name, whip me into the throes of a supernatural encounter with a wandering ancestral specter. And then, the preacher questions, “Can philosophy lift a man out of the cess pool of this life?………..it never has.”

Maybe that should be the closer. It would certainly be impressive to drop into silence immediately after that bleak line.

mediate the medium

Interesting listening experience tonight: I was locking into the new Grails Black Tar Prophecies Vol. 4, when I realized the copy I'd received to review was a burn from the original vinyl. The extra white noise and the faint churning of the turntable's motor gave it away, but also detracted from the focus and enjoyment of the listen. What's truly interesting about this is that I knew immediately that if I were listening to this on vinyl (soon enough!!) and could hear the same noises through my turntable, I would immediately tune them out and have a pleasurable experience. But, since it was an mp3 copy, I didn't expect these sounds and it made for a distraction. Mull it over...

Sunday Night Breaking Bad Mix

Right after the newest, most awesomest episode of Breaking Bad I turned to my banks of sound and did a little 55 minute (or so) mix of what I have come to affectionately call 'Doombient'. Other folks call it 'Hauntology', which I like, but I also like to make my own words up. Here's the mix in order:
- "Raagini Robot" by Ken Camden
- "Truth & Distance" by Concern
- "Hathor's Dance" by Higuma
- "Persistent Repetition of Phrases" by The Caretaker
- "Gathering Strengths/Silence Within" by Pussygutt
- "Arc of Wisdom" by Elm
- Side B of Francisco Lopez's Untitled #228
- "The Twelve" by Nest

As with almost everything I do, it's a work in progress, as I'd like to continue adding to the mix. But, I'll probably get distracted and do another mix before getting around to adding to this one. Gotta laugh at yourself, right?

Oh so fine in 2009!

Yes, that's me as Cheech Marin (circa Up In Smoke) with my buddy as Walter Sobchak (Big Lebowski) this last Halloween. I'm not really sure why, but it seemed the most appropriate photo to head my Tasty Tunes of 2009 article, which seems to be nearing 'overdue' status. I have decided to forego any lengthy descriptions or rankings in an effort for expedience and honesty. Luckily, you, my fair readers, will realize that you now have some music shopping to do, since you obviously entrust me with the knowledge to give you the musical truth as to what to listen to.

Danny Norbury Light In August King of the Neo-Classical giants that ruled the contemplative forests of 2009.
Hildur Gudnadottir Without Sinking Queen of the Neo-Classical giants. Cello dominated 2009's horizons and skies at all points of vision.
Elm Nemcatacoa The third eye sits upon a temple guarded by wolves of the highest intelligence and patience. Psychedelic wonders!!
Elegi Varde Gloomy, gloomy drone and Classical shards strewn about the floorboards of a Norwegian attic, or is that the storm cellar?
Dakota Suite The End of Trying A broken heart can repeat itself into the darkest corners of a bed mounded in blankets and tears.
A Broken Consort Crow Autumn Part Two Richard Skelton plants the seed of sorrow in a mix of Neo-Classical, Ozark meditation and Field Recordings.
Richard Skelton Landings Skelton sows those seeds and grows a crop of tribute.
Black To Comm Alphabet 1968 Holy Shit!!
Anduin Abandone In Sleep Drone done like I like it. I can sleep to this record or sit and read.
Alva Noto & Ryuichi Sakamoto UTP_ I wish this record had come out before last Winter's snow storm so that I could drive around listening to it's dampened creepiness in the snow.
Klimek Movies Is Magic Soundtracks have rarely been cooler or more fitting (see Fight Club), yet there's no movie to go with this soundtrack. Dope atmospherics!
Kreng L'Autopsie Phenomenale De Dieu When I first listened to Elegi's album, I thought it nearly impossible for music to get any creepier and haunting. Then this album came out and I've been scratching at the walls ever since.
Le Lendemain Fires More Danny Norbury and David Wenngren greatness. Don't fail to sit with "Lois" for some time.
David Wenngren Sleepless Nights The man behind Library Tapes continues to spew forth dream accompaniments with a deft touch.
Simon Scott Navigare The Drone and Neo-Classical hits just kept rolling in in 2009.
Wax Tailor In the Mood for Life French HipHop? Ya don't stop!
Rapoon Melancholic Songs of the Desert Loops of the world, unite!!
Paul White One Eye Open EP, The Punch Drummer EP, Strange Dreams of Paul White and Sounds from the Skylight Londonite Paul White dropped a whole sortie of funky HipHop bombs this last year. A sound of Jamaica, Southern California and England all dashed into this delectable stew of beats.
Nosaj Thing Drift The LA scene is hot right now and Jason Chung turned it up to blistering!
Nalepa Flatlands Also out of the LA scene, my boy Steve Nalepa rocks out the bubble bass and dub so clean, he could make a $3 suit look like it costs $300. No really, seriously.
Murcof La Sangre Iluminada I am in love with Fernando Corona. Now I just need to find a woman willing to have his babies for me. Then, I wouldn't mind seeing the movie that this album soundtracks so elegantly.
Moderat Moderat Yes, I like to dance. I like to dance to German techno.
Lusine A Certain Distance Seattleite Jeff McIlwain ups the ante on smart dance music. Listening to it live in the Seattle Art Museum lobby was a smashing good time. Or was it that I got smashed that night?
Lukid Foma Wow. This album makes me wanna crawl inside some magical vortex between bong hits and sweaty, all-night sex. A real treasure.
Giuseppe Ielasi Aix Vertical stacks of sound like bottomless library shelves make for a rhythmically controlled galaxy.
Dak Standthis/Standthis (Otherside) Again and again and again, Los Angeles is punching cards to the new cool beatsmiths' club. Weird, esoteric and stoned to his eyelids, Dak makes beats for Buck Rogers.
DJ Signify Of Cities A fabulous rebound from a sub-par previous release.

And, in keeping with tradition from lists and years past, I like to give attention to releases not from 2009, but that I discovered during the year. Artists like Onra and Populous have my devotion to their entire catalogue of releases and Aether's Artifacts is a tasty little morsel. Also, in a direct evolutionary step from Poets of Rhythm, the Whitefield Brothers kick out some greasy, spacey Funk. Well, I'm gonna leave it at that. So here's to an equally awesome 2010, with Deru exploding minds and a rumored Boards of Canada album set to come out!! Giddy with anticipation.

Just Another Way To Say...

...Shit is funky! For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I've been listening to Cypress Hill's first LP a lot lately. It is straight up funky ass shit. Prince Paul taught DJ Muggs well and it shows on this record. There's no need for me to expound upon some extrapolated philosophical ideas about this album, other than to say what I already have: this is one funky ass album. It's full of great samples and memorable potheaded lyrics, mixed with a South Central LA gangster ethos. I guess my real point here is that this is an album with real staying power, given that I'm still rockin' it 16 years after I first heard it. Anyways, I think that if you're sitting at home struggling with what to listen to and you love HipHop, then maybe just throw this gem on one more time and kick back with a fat doobie and enjoy!

A Trip to the Rekkid Store with my main man Bench

Bench and I went to the store of vinyl wax rekkid purchasing today and, as all trips of this manner are, it was a magical time. The one that I put back in order to not blow too much money was Ice Cream Castle by The Time. I will have more chances to pick that little funk gem up in the future. Here's my haul:
Game, Dames & Guitar Thangs by Eddie Hazel
In the Pocket With Eddie Bo by Eddie Bo (fabulous New Orleans Funk & Soul)
I Thought I Was Over That by Lali Puna (B-Sides, Rarities and Remixes)
Lazy Bones by Witch (described as Afro-Psych Rock, pretty spot on)
Gish by Smashing Pumpkins
Rip, Rig & Panic by Rashaan Roland Kirk

If I could, I'd live every day like this.

Music to Screw By

Every time I listen to "Moan" (Trentmoller Remix) by Trentmoller, I wish I was having downright sweaty, house music repetitive sex. I wish I was fuckin my balls off, this song is so sexy and commands you to move, it seems to have no other purpose, but to compell the sentient beings with thumbs to give up all cares we have for our ridiculous toys and tools and just commence to fuckin'. It may sound crass to you, but it's true. This song sounds like the spontaneous stripping of clothes and the slamming into of one sweaty body to another, smiles ablaze with the pleasure and forgetfulness only sex can bring; the ultimate temporary relief from this puny, overly-self-concerned world. When the lower chakras take over in a momentary revolution of body over mind and erase the ego from its smarmy chalkboard for just...one...singular...moment...of....





this post aided by: teonanacatl

Danny Norbury "Light In August"

The new album from cellist Danny Norbury is titled Light In August. I can only imagine it is named after the novel by William Faulkner, but the similarity seems to go only title-deep (while I have not read Faulkner's, I don't feel that this album is meant to reflect the subject matter of the novel). A warm, yet heart-breakingly beautiful album of cello pieces accompanied by sparse piano swells up out of the silence besetting it and dies away in the twilight with such ease that it seems next to breathing for Norbury. I think of a backlit spiderweb on a hot, but comfortable afternoon in August, a breeze hassles its superior strength, which is betrayed by the frailty of its appearance. The silken strands will stretch and sway, but only a vigorous effort will force it to surrender and give way. The sharply reverberating piano that begins "I Turn Off the Last Light and Close the Door" has the same tensilary strength for vibration and duration as the spider's web. As it creates a whirling wheat field underfoot, you drift into the title piece. "Light In August" is a wordless eulogy (much like the entire album as a lament) of Norbury's cello layered over itself until a one-man chamber orchestra is bidding adieux to the way life used to be. "This Night Is For You And For Me" follows up nicely with a slow lovers' dance that spirals downwards into invisible arms. And "All The Stars Are Out Tonight", Norbury's web wraps in intricate patterns around your heart, stretching itself in tachycardic rhythm until they both break into the infinite.
I have only had one proper, all-the-way-through listen to this record, but already recognize its godly quality, its knowledge of the most esoteric simplicities of life and well-crafted love of beautiful sound.

Don't think about it too long or doubt my true knowledge, just get it.





Oh, and by the way, the words "there, that should make life better" better roll outta your mouth whenever you pass this music on to a friend.

Easy Street, ease my soul!

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Quick Notes on New Records in Gabelicious Land

As I continue to delve further into the realm of Neo-Classical seratonin uptake assisters, I am easily falling for the slow cello laments of Hildur Gudnadottir's Without Sinking. Also, Nalepa's new rekkid Flatlands is pure bass and bubble genius. "Fourth of July" is the out-and-out winner track on this album, with it's skittery, almost haunting tone and approach to low-key dancefloor aesthetics.

And keep your eyes peeled for my next review at the Silent Ballet of The Alps dual-EP release A Path Through The Sun/A Path Through The Moon. Glorious droney psychedelia.

A Most Musical Year

The cliched bits of wisdom that fall from the mouths of older people in our lives begin to make more and more sense as I grow into my thirties. This year really did fly by, sadly forecasting an even quicker passing of 2009, unless, of course, Barack Obama can produce a time-slowing device for communal use. It sucks to admit that all sorts of adults along the way have said that the years get faster and faster and that they may be right, but, fuck it...maybe I was just having a really kickass time. This year certainly was filled with an insane amount of music, which is not abnormal for me. I live to consume through my ears and my appetite is constantly whetted for more and instatiable in its devouring of new and different sounds. However, 2008 saw an increase the likes of which go unparalleled save for my years at Cellophane Square, which was aided greatly by the re-initiation of my music writing (critical, not compositional) career at the Silent Ballet. Of course, there was also the constant sharing with my best friend and fellow music junkie, Bench.
So, as is common for music junkies and critics to perform at the nearing of the year's end, I'd like to present a collection of records that brought me joy in the last 12 months. It was a year that saw my interest in metal wane just a little bit, particularly in the last 4-5 months. Mostly, this had to do with a more tightly honed focus on all sorts of forms of Electronic music and deeper interest in Modern Classical. It seems that as we push further into this new millenium, there is a rise in number of artists coming back to much "older" approaches to music (i.e. primarily chamber style instrumentation and arrangement with cello, viola/violin and piano). However, a lot of the current artists are evolving this so-called modern version of Classical music from an Electronic standpoint (check artists such as Helios and Deaf Center for starters). The styles really seem to mesh well, as the simple, repetitive mantras of dance style music (descended from Hip-Hop) lend themselves nicely to a much more slowed down approach of form and variation in Chamber/Classical music. I wonder frequently if this reduction of hyped-up energy in some Electronic music circles is a socio-psychological response to a world too frenetic, violent, uncaring, cold and just plain fucking crazy; sort of an aural valium is what I guess I'm thinking of.
Yet, speaking of the more beat-oriented styles of Electronic music, I also gained a deeper focus on and appreciation of them as well. Attending the entirety of Decibel Festival this September really helped with that, as getting a dose of music in its live, pulsating manifestation always refreshes the passions I possess for it.
2008 was also the year that one single, dust-laden violin note encompassed the aggregate of emotional ferocity that Heath Ledger laid down for us all in his interpretation of the Joker as a dark, ominous psychopath beyond true comprehension. Well, let's get to it, shall we?
Again, as I did for last year, this is NOT A RANKED LIST, yet rather just a representation of music that delighted my ears this year. Ranking implies direct comparison, which becomes more and more ridiculous when you're talking about listening to Radiohead one minute and then Hulk the next; they are nothing alike in the sense of comparing for enjoyment value. And, here...we...go!
GRAILS Take Refuge In Clean Living and Doomsdayer's Holiday. Nary a year goes by now that Portland noir-folk-psych rock band Grails doesn't have a release and, more importantly, a release that pleases again and again. After repeated listens to both, however, they might have waited to release another full-length until next year, as Doomsdayer's Holiday lacks just a touch of the strength and completeness that the last three releases have. Still great albums, though. Most bands would love to release just one record as good as the lesser of two Grails albums in one year.
HELIOS Caesura. In all honesty, this album is in a dead heat for favorite of the year. Beyond that, I can't say much more than what I've already said in my review, which I think will speak volumes more than what I could blabber here.
HULK Rise of A Mystery Tide. Absolutely mind-blowing. I've never heard anything else like it and it is truly exciting when you feel like an artist has cracked open the protective shell around a previously unexplored galaxy of sound and style. At some times reminiscent of a Jan Jelinek album, Rise of A Mystery Tide also drives towards a minimal Classical and I don't think that is even a fair attempt at describing it. The leap in progress from the first Hulk release to this one is also startling. I consider this a must listen for anybody who dares to consider themselves a serious music junkie (this doesn't mean you're required to like it, just listen fucker!).
PAAVOHARJU Laulu Laakson Kukista. Ummmm, I'm certainly glad I'm writing this and not trying to pronounce it to you in person. Equally as original and individual as Hulk's release, this Finnish outfit has finally scored the soundtrack to the most bizarre of recurring dreams. Everything you hear dances in these little confined spaces like snowglobes, weaving in and out of a myriad of voices that utter somnambulant promises. It is, at times, even an attack on the senses, but one that is welcomed, almost yearned for like a masochist awaiting the whip.
HANS ZIMMER and JAMES NEWTON HOWARDThe Dark Knight OST. I really include this primarily for the aforementioned single droning note of angst and horrified anticipation that accompanies all the scenes involving the Joker. In the words of my friend Iris, "They fucking nailed it with that soundtrack, man!!"
JACASZEK Treny. Michael Jacaszek hails from Poland, which is the basics of what I know about him. His album is one of those that I was talking about earlier that is primarily Modern Classical, but comes out sounding like an Electronica record, but just minus the beats (not even micro-programming ala Murcof). Simple, heart-wrenching beauty that haunts while simultaneously warming and soothing you. God damn, people are making some great music to score the imaginary love scenes of my life. Too bad I'm the only one who gets to see them, good thing is, we can all hear the music.
HAUSCHKA Ferndorf. Prepared piano, cello and viola and some percussive sounds make for another new millenium chamber music. A bit more upbeat than some of the others in this musical gene pool.
ALPS III. In a manner void of the dark noir rock and world music influence that Grails bring to the (turn)table, time spent listening to the Alps begs me to get extremely high smoking bowl after bowl. III just has the feel of music you'd love to hear as you make the return trip home from a weekend of camping and doing mushrooms in the woods. All the car windows are rolled down, the music is up and almost now words are uttered at all, even amongst very close friends, as all would prefer to just exist in that telepathic state. That's the basic gist of this record. This San Francisco band (including members of Tarentel) is a great addition to the Type Records lineup.
The BLACK ANGELS Directions to See a Ghost. This is my generation's Velvet Underground, that's about all you need to know. Fantastic album of throwback-to-the-60s psychedelic rock.
BLACK MOUNTAIN In The Future. This one almost gets lost in the mix purely for the fact that it was released in January, but this junkie won't exlcude it from the musical Oscars just because of release timing. "Wucan" was my first anthem of the year, as I got hooked on its repetitive, ascending guitar line and spooky singing by both Stephen McBean and Amber Webber. They played an awesome live show, but the smoke machine was retarded and kept pumping waaaaaayyy too much fake smoke out.
FOUR TET Ringer. This little EP restored my faith in Kieran Hebden, as the collaborations with Steve Reid had begun to kill my Four Tet buzz. Combining his electro-roots with a new psychedelic bent, Hebden takes a turn for the better and rekindles my love for his music.
KANGDING RAY Automne Fold. One of the darkest, most ominous packages of heavy, bass-sunken beats to also ignite the romantic side. I love the new directions in heavy music ocurring in the world of Electronica. I guess that sometimes I imagine this album being the soundtrack to the inner monologue of a sensitive warrior, constantly amidst thoughts of a lover and the mortal moments of combat. A musical representation of the ebb and flow between rage and love that marks the madness of our world. My review.
JOHAN JOHANSSON Fordlandia. Modern Classical at its best, Fordlandia possesses all the melancholy memorabilia of the 21st Century collector's soul - the sadness of people stuck in the disconnect of owning kitsch representations of the real. Yet, the album also holds firmly to a sense of hope. So, maybe it is a perfect compliment to the regime change put clearly down on November 4th. All of the interludes ("Melodia i-iv") are these compact little poems, comprised mostly of woodwinds and their motifs speak for the hopeful side of the record.
GROUPER Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill. Spooky? Check. Warm? Check. Dreamy? For Certain. Delay pedal? Double check so much you can't even tell there's some straight up Flying Saucer Attack crazy shit going on in the far reaches of this album's sonic palate. Her voice is beautifully, nightmarishly soothing, but don't ask me to explain how that description really makes sense in my head. The scary little 70s horror movie girl on the front cover, though? Makes me wanna run and scream and lose my mind in grainy 35mm. My review? Check 1, Check 2...Waiter, check please!
GOLDMUND The Malady of Elegance. This was definitely Keith Kenniff's year. After a disappointing 2-Point Discrimination out of his Goldmund appellation, he drives in the crucial winning runs with this gorgeous collection of piano contemplations and then the aforementioned Helios release. Way to go Keith! This album has lulled me to happy nights of sleep many a time this year since its release. Resurrecting Erik Satie must be a totally satisfying hobby. I sure hope Keith found time to etch some musical commandments into stone this year.
FAX Yo Recuerdo. Static Discos labelmate of Murcof, Ruben Tamayo kept me company for many a mile through the great Rockies states during a road trip. Particularly the track "Cuarto Para Tres", which became an essential driving track in the vast expanses between sightings of people. A beautiful place to be.
LIBRARY TAPES A Summer Beneath The Trees. As melancholy as A Silver Mt. Zion, if not more for the lack of human voices, but as dusty as the Western Frontier of 200 years ago. This album, every track contained within, moves with the deliberateness of a shy, yet hungry cat. A Summer Beneath The Trees is the kind of music I would put on a mixed tape for a new girlfriend in the hopes that she would understand its seemingly sad, out-of-placeness amongst other sounds.
CLARK Turning Dragon. Alright, this is a bit of trickery throwing this one in here, because it is my biggest, most complete disappointment of all of 2008, musically speaking. After the brilliance of Body Riddle, I was expecting a knockout follow-up. Instead, I receieved a huge, steaming pile of whatever the fuck Clark wanted to call music, er, shit. Stay away, unless you base all of your musical opinions on what I don't like.
ZOZOBRA Bird of Prey. More electric metal coursing through my veins from the Zozobra-bruh-bros (worst pun I've made all year...this album doesn't deserve that kind of treatment). A bit more straight forward than Harmonic Tremors, but delightful rock-the-fuck-out Summer driving music.
SYLVAIN CHAUVEAU The Black Book of Capitalism. I didn't even know the title of this record until after it had spent a week on my turntable. The last time my homie Bench and I went to Sleazy Street Records I picked this up on vinyl thinking it was an older release. Come to find out, it was brand new...follow my whiskey nose, it always knows! Some of the more refined compositions in his repertoir and I listened to it for a week solid not caring for names, but just enjoying personalities of songs and the album as a whole. Then, the album title sealed the deal for me, a fantastic record. What is on the black book of Capitalism? Freedom? Individuality? Common Sense? I continue to search through my mind...
PORTISHEAD Third. I wish all my favorite bands/acts could take ten years off and come back with one of the coolest records of the year. Totally preferable to releasing a bunch of fart-smelling filler for those ten years. Kudos to Portishead for not losing their shit!

Now, I'm getting tired of writing blurbs for every freakin' rekkid, so here's a little list of some other '08 releases worthy of attention. Even if that attention comes from you hitting the stop button.
BITCRUSH Epilogue In Waves
THE BOATS Faulty Tuned Radios
GESKIA Silent 77
PART TIMER Blue
BRAEL/TOKYO BLOODWORM Living Language
CON_CETTA Micro
BOLA Kroungrine
CANYONSOFSTATIC The Disappearance
COMATONE & FOLEY Trigger Happy
CULT OF LUNA Eternal Kingdom
DREAMSPLOITATION The Soft Focus Sound of Today
FJORDNE The Last Three Days of Time
JOE BEATS Diverse Recourse
MILLIMETRIK Northwest Passage's New Era
MOGWAI The Hawk Is Howling

And then, something I think is very important, the music not from 2008 that I discovered during the '08 calendar year. The biggest highlight is, by far, Deru and Julien Neto. Some others are Erkin Koray and Los Dug Dugs. There's so much more, but at this point, I feel I should be done and you've probably quit trying to finish this post anyways! Cheers and here's to an 09 this tasty.

From Me to You: More of what is Beautiful

Acting as a discerning, professional, deep listener I sometimes try to figure out exact criteria for what makes great music. I have come to the conclusion, however, that a set of concrete criteria is impossible and, actually, downright silly, because, much like music itself, the criteria should be fluid and specifically applicable. Musical taste is subjective and thusly mobile, so should the general ideas behind judging a piece as great or transcendent. In the new millennium, Amon Tobin provided us (me and anybody else that thinks this album is godhead) with a truly masterful work of music in his third album, Supermodified. The answer to the criteria dilemma is approaching... With Supermodified, Tobin stepped out of the formulated, mathematical world of trip-hop and moved into a sound truly unique. Seriously, no one has replicated his sound and style; busy yet in-the-pocket grooves and a monstrous, ominous sound that is simultaneously dreamy, comforting and danceable. His sense of rhythm and drum programming are unparalleled, yet refrain from becoming too heady to nod your head to. He took the original hip-hop aesthetic and pushed it into the new millennium and outer/inner space. Tobin's work exists in an anime-esque world of mechanical organisms and species that evolved in the dark of our scientific vision (think Pan's Labyrinth for starters).
For Supermodified I can think of a few criteria for greatness:
1. Do you still listen to this piece regularly after years of its existence?
2. Even after at least 50 listens, do you feel you can still garner something new from it?
3. Does it continue to excite and pique the interest between you and a peer?
I can unilaterally say yes to all the above and more in my mind...but I can't harvest them out right now...
If I were scoring this album on a scale of 1-10, it would undoubtedly receive a 10 (probably an 8.5 or 9 when I first got it in 2000, but after years of crafting a relationship with this record, it is perfect. And I say that unabashedly).

overstatements on understated beauty

So, one of my intentions when I began bloggin' was to push articles of art that I cherish most, yet think that not many of you out there have enjoyed. My selection for tonight is an album of so-called minimal electronica/ambient music by Murcof titled Remembranza. I say so-called minimal, because I think it is a misnomer due to the fact that Fernando Corona's music is so lush with layers it can't possibly apply to the term minimal. The layers continue to peel away and reveal depth that I knew was present upon the first lesson, but had no power of perception or perspective to identify. A great album that fits a great listener is a relationship and like any relationship, there is a building process through which you get to know the album and all it has to communicate sensually and emotionally. One metaphor I thought of for the type of depth this album has is like eating a fresh pomegranate, having to crack it open and meticulously pluck out all the seeds. There is joy in the entire process, even though it takes time and a little bit of work.
There does not exist a bad song on Remembranza. "Rostro" is the hopeless, brittle heart that pens a love song whose very breathy sound sears across galaxies to connect with its truest love. It really does sound as though Corona knows the very essence of melancholy and is skillful enough to transform his knowledge into the perfect sonic representation. Listen to it here. "Camino" is the rumbler that ends the album proper and is fitting theme music for a gruesome late night alley, dripping with the condensation of steam vents and the tension of a city. Yet, it also breathes with ease, a marvelous paradox of style that sounds completely natural.
I listen to Remembranza about 2-7 times a week and quite often while going to sleep. It is, in my mind, a piece of art that is at the pinnacle of style, aesthetics and feeling. Corona's sound here is intellectual, emotional and sensual, a combination not commonly found.
If you live near me and don't have this record, I will assist you in acquiring it, I feel that strongly about the power of character this album possesses.

A Brief Study in Clark

Chris Clark, or simply Clark as he is currently, took me by surprise when I was already too late. Last Summer I was perusing the racks at the Fremont Easy Street Records, really wanting some good new beats. My thirst/hunger for and ability to consume the poorly-termed (but will have to do for now!!) Electronic music had reached voracious levels. In fact, I remember when I was in my early twenties, I was pretty sure that the only thing I'd ever be that edacious of would be sex...ah, the folly of youth. Only music can satisfy this sort of appetite, this kind of seeking. The problem is that it needs be fed often, with the new and the old, but never just the same old leftovers (leftovers are fine to an extent, but after a while, they require spicing up for new life). So, I was in Easy Street and talking with my buddy John who works (worked? are they closed yet?) there and asked him to suggest some tasty new beats. Now, John and I don't always se eye to eye on beats. In fact, I'm downright snobby compared to him when it comes to Electronic music and Hip-Hop. Knowing full well he might run into a brick wall with me, he took a flier anyways on Clark's Body Riddle. They didn't have a play copy, so he slipped open one from stock to let me peek at it with the old eargoggles. It was an instant, "I'll buy it!" I only needed to hear the entirety of the first song and about a total 35 seconds of snippets from the rest of the album to decide. The funny thing, to me, was I was still about a year late on this freakin disc; it was released in 2006 and here I was in '07, never even heard of the guy. His style is magnificent (am I some Wu-Tang Master describing a student's technique?!?). First there is the hard, acid-induced clench of Aphex Twin's rhythmic psychosis mellowed by a more Hip-Hop sensibility, at times. Then, his melodic approach combined with his choice in synth sounds can only be part of the camp I like to describe as Disney on acid (or did I hear that in a review of AM-Boy and am now co-opting it for my own damn use??). But, as I have truly come to see as his most delightful skillset is a twofold piece of music magic. First, through all this acid-heavy, dance-thumping and jumping is his ability to still "sing" a lullaby with his creations. His tunes are almost never edgy in a way that would keep babies from sleeping. Well, at least not this baby. Second, and this is where some of his real genius shines through (particularly on Body Riddle, but also on Empty the Bones of You), is his ability to Extract. Well, what the fuck do you mean by extract??!? Electronic music is born of dance culture, thus most of it sticks in a groove or pocket for each specific track/song and only recently in the last handful of years, have artists really broken some of those barriers and been able to even illuminate movements (ironic...it's dance music!) in their songs. These are not your great-great-great-great grandfather's movements in Bach or Mozart, but they certainly are related. They work from form and variation. But more importantly, they function to convey a much deeper, richer sense and palette of emotion in a music that has often been criticized for a lack of just that. So, as for extracting, I mean to describe his peculiar prowess in illuminating movements in electronic music. I call it this, because he seems to set up shifts that may appear to be bold beforehand, but are subtle as they transform. He seems to simply extract, or pull what comes out of what was first; a little mini-birthing. For example (the best would be for you to go listen to his stuff, but........), he will have a certain melodic motif hovering all ghostly like above a beatless soundscape and then meticulously craft a rhythm that seems made for the melodic motif like life partners meeting in some Hollywood romantic comedy. On top of that, the tempo will change slightly with the coupling of melody and rhythm and with all that, the intrinsic emotion of the piece comes squeezing out (a tall glass of Clark juice!!!) with seemingly little effort. To make an analogy: when a skilled filmmaker switches the angle of a shot, but maintains continuity, while also never even coming close to shredding suspension of disbelief? That is what he is doing musically. Believe me, I've listened to the two albums many times to come to attempting to describe it here.
Now, there's just one little beef I gotta pick with this guy. Why the hell does his new album sound like shit?!!??!!!!?? Yes, artists must push themselves to change and grow in order not to stagnate and produce the same old thing over and over, but did he have to throw his melodic talents in the fucking blender and turn up the clatter? Well, I'll just keep listening to the other two (his very first LP is kinda grating to me, too, but whatever). G'night!

Most Recent Trip to the Record Store

Took a little jaunt down to Portland for the day with my Moms. Had some Greek eats at Greek Cusina (Kalamari!!!) and the hit up a couple of Portland's finest record slangin spots. First, I dropped in on 2nd Ave Records, which I didn't even know existed until today, and found some nice little jewels: Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band In The Jungle, Baby, Allan Toussaint The Wild Sound of New Orleans, Old Man Gloom Christmas, Cool Calm Pete Lost, and a coupla funky sound effects LPs. Then, on to Jackpot Records, which, by the way, had a very cute and knowledgeable redheaded woman in their employ (getchyer flirt on!!), and slected some more fine wax: Godflesh Love & Hate In Dub and Jakob Solace. The latter was also purchased on cd, so as to put it on the GabePod.
I love Portland...hmmmm, maybe I should move there.

Perplexion...8 Steps to Perfection!!!

Will somebody explain to me how this album can still be so Gotdamn good after 11 years???!?!? I must listen to Funcrusher Plus at least 3-4 times a month, even now after having listened to it all these years. El-P's production is just pure genius, Mr. Len on the 1's and 2's? Out of this world understanding of how the turntable is used as an instrument. And the lyricism is unmatched. Simply masterful. I still catch lines, to this day, and go, "Uh! That shit is Ill!!!!" Not only are El and Bigg Jus insanely skilled on the mic, but they bring with them J-Treds, of the Juggaknots, and BMS, who somehow(in retrospect) sounds like the precursor to Vast Aire.
I can still recall my boy Jake-O turning me onto this shit in the "HellHouse" with skater shit all over the walls and a pet hedgehog in one room and the stink of dishes that hadn't been touched in weeks. None of those environmentals could be a detriment to the listening experience. It was truly as if some aliens had gotten a hold of the hip-hop sound and re-interpreted it to fit their language, their cadence, their philosophy. It was a drug experience of its own...sure, I'd smoked myself silly many a times, including the first, listening to this record, but it took on its own form of psychedelia that remains to be defined. Somehow, when an artist puts themselves so deeply into their work, the work itself becomes an entity, though supposedly static, it changes and morphs as time moves and we change around it. It becomes a compatriot that we grow with and about. This is a truly rare thing in art, in general, and music, specifically. My only sadness is that these art entities don't come along more often.