Actress Xoul 12″ (Werk Discs / Ninja Tune)
So I guess Actress saying he was quitting after Ghettoville was a publicity stunt after all? Not that I’m complaining – he has given me more to think about in his fractured, disassembled electronic music than a dozen of his peers, to the point where I am buying up black-label 12″s such as this (where I have to look up the damn playing speed online [you expected us to just guess that the a-side was 45 and the b-side 33, Actress?]) with the voracity of a Wall Street day-trader. The beauty of Actress is that you never know what to expect, so I was surprised by how much the four tracks of Xoul reminded me of earlier Actress. I suppose with titles like “Xoul”, “Xoul Dark Chamber” and “Xoul Particles” it’s clear he’s working around one central concept, but the chirpy click he uses for a snare sounds recycled from Splazsh, and the general vibe is mostly familiar. I probably didn’t need this one, and should’ve put this money toward buying that ridiculously lavish limited version of Ghettoville that comes with like a board-game and backpack and hologram WAV files or something, but navigating the world of Actress is like winding through a series of complex mazes, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Answer Code Request Code LP (Ostgut Ton)
Answer Code Request came to my attention via a sharp and transfixing 12″ EP on Ostgut Ton earlier this year that I forgot to write about (ain’t that how it goes sometimes). Anyway, he’s back with his first full-length album, and while the concept of a full-length album never quite hits the same highs as 12″ EPs for many of the techno artists I enjoy (and not even Ostgut Ton’s roster is immune to this trend), Code is a sleek and satisfyingly-cybernetic affair. I have read enough to learn that Answer Code Request is the alias of a guy named Patrick Gräser, but this is some seriously post-human music, the sort of record that seems like it was put together by a highly intelligent hardware interface with cutting-edge software, all without human interference. That’s not a diss – I love when electronic removes humanity from the equation entirely, and even though a track like “By The Bay” offers a buoyant beat and upwardly-drifting chords, Code still feels like a record made by artificial intelligence, for artificial intelligence. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sink into “Blue Russian” one more time and await the impending robot war.
Blood Bright Star The Silver Head 12″ (King Of The Monsters)
King Of The Monsters keeps the party jumping with this 12″ EP by the mysteriously artsy Blood Bright Star. From the band name and dark, obscured imagery, I was kind of expecting something suitable for one of Earth’s opening acts, and while it wouldn’t be ill-fitting, Blood Bright Star are just a little more rockin’ than that. They basically play these simple, repetitive death-rock excursions, like if you had Wooden Shjips re-shape the structure of Christian Death songs into something hypnotic (and well, slightly boring). Blood Bright Star’s vocals also mirror the Wooden Shjips approach, which is a spoken warble buried deep in the mix, the sort of vocal performance you know is there but recall nothing about. It fits though, as this music is mellow and trance-y enough that Blood Bright Star doesn’t need much more than a shadow of a voice to work. Kind of a specific sound, perhaps more interesting in theory. The band’s self-dubbed “death motorik” could be onto something, and I hope Blood Bright Star continue on their cold black autobahn – something really cool could come of it.
Bronze Teeth A Waif’s Rent 12″ (Diagonal)
Only those with a keen eye for experimental techno will notice that there were actually two Bronze Teeth 12″s released in July, one of which I already reviewed, and this one, which showed up shortly thereafter (but you know, not quick enough that I could order them simultaneously). I heartily enjoyed the first, and as Bronze Teeth’s constantly-shifting-grid of danceable (but not dance-centric) techno continues here, my feelings remain unchanged. The twelve-minute “Albion Pressure” feels like one of those 8-bit racing games where the player’s car is static and the road twists wildly side to side, pushing forward past one-dimensional trees in a race against the clock. “Cut Bronze” opens the b-side with a distinctly different vibe, with a slyly-shifting dub foundation giving way to various sideways effects and mutated forms of treble. “Tephra” closes it out with even less energy, with the buzz of a flatlined pulse and soft, fidgety drum pads tapping on the coffin (from the inside). It’s a bit more playful and out-there than the first Bronze Teeth 12″, and clearly a record that has shaken hands with Powell (which is strong praise). Great, provocative un-techno from Bronze Teeth here, I just hope they don’t start their own Testpressing series, lest I have to pick up a second form of employment.
Morgan Buckley Shout Out To All The Weirdos In Rathmines 12″ (No Label)
Attention! It’s the ability to tell you, dear anonymous reader, about records like this that I spend my time doing Yellow Green Red in the first place. Total stone-cold left-field corker here from someone named Morgan Buckley, who I have tried to track down online to no avail (I was only able to locate one Soundcloud page, but there’s no email contact listed…). Four tracks on this EP, all different enough to inhabit separate colors of the spectrum, but Morgan Buckley is essentially doing this chilled-out collage-house thing that calls to mind Arthur Russell pre-gaming with Torn Hawk, with maybe a touch of Blues Control’s unique nostalgic lens, the unhurried pace of Galcher Lustwerk and the artistic freedom of Can. Seriously, soak all that in, because I mean it! I’m wondering if Morgan Buckley might actually be Torn Hawk, because the similarities are certainly there (and this was released by the “No Label” associated with Rush Hour distribution who also recently released that Torn Hawk 2×7″), but it kind of soars above Torn Hawk in that this could easily appeal to psychedelic crate-diggers and Brain Records archivists as much as Not Not Fun acolytes. Really can’t get over how much I love this one, to the point where being unable to stalk Buckley online feels like meeting someone at a party that you are crazy about and forgetting to get their number – if I knew where Buckley lived, you can be damn sure his local Craigslist would be getting a missed connection.
Christina Carter Character Study 12″ (Drawing Room)
If you don’t know about Christina Carter by now, you’ve been doing the sun-bleached anti-folk psych-drone thing wrong! She’s been steadily producing bizarrely great records, CDs, tapes and whatever else for decades now, and this new two-track 12″ EP on Drawing Room is another captivating piece. There are two tracks here, each exactly ten minutes and forty-five seconds long, and they are comprised of vocals, guitar and tambourine, and while I’d probably sound like a really dopey White Stripes if I was left to those devices, she molds it into this constantly shifting form of grotesque beauty, like watching one of those colorful deep-sea invertebrates twist itself to swim. She presumably is using a slide on her guitar, and while I wish I could watch what was happening (I can’t quite figure it out by ear alone), it makes for a delightful form of confusion. Her vocals are layered in wordless cooing and spoken-word seriousness, and it’s like opening a really beautiful old book that is written in a foreign language – alluring and inscrutable. As a matter of fact, there’s actually a nice chapbook of artistic statement and theory included here, and while I’ve only skimmed it (I can only think seriously about a topic for three and a half minutes at a time), it adds substance to an EP that already has plenty.
Cobwebbs World Wide Webbs LP (Sonic Masala)
World Wide Webbs is Cobwebbs’ second full-length and my first experience with this energetic Australian garage-rock group. I say “garage-rock” because that’s what it mostly sounds like to me, but the Discogs entry for this album lists the style as Swamp Pop, Psychedelic Rock, Noise, Lo-Fi, Krautrock, Acid Rock, Experimental, Glam, Ethereal, Rock & Roll, Post-Punk. Phew! I can only assume that was entered by someone with a personal stake in this record, be it a band member or a loving aunt, and while I can see how Cobwebbs might be reaching into all those different bags, this album hits a pretty uninspired homogeneity, mostly due to the muddy recording. The whole record sits in a fuzzed-out mid-range that collapses any possible dynamics, and the songs are all filled with the same distortion, riffs and vocal-style as countless other punk-inspired, garage-indebted, psych-loving bands. I’m sure it was a fun record to make, hunched over in front of their amps and chain smoking between takes in some unventilated room, but it’s a pleasure that World Wide Webbs offers only in theory.
Cold World How The Gods Chill LP (Deathwish)
Cold World are one of those bands whose fanbase knows no bounds, not just because they meld such a diverse set of influences into their sound but simply because it sounds so damn good. I think their last album surprised everyone at how memorably great it was, myself included, so I spent most of 2014 waiting for How The Gods Chill (this is probably the only band who can get away with a Danzig parody album title, after all). Those who enjoyed Dedicated To Babies Who Came Feet First should love this one too – rap interludes are cut into laser-sharp mosh-core, with visions of Biohazard and Trapped Under Ice walking pitbulls on chains through back alleys. I found myself singing along with some lines after the very first listen (Cold World have the benefit of writing catchy songs without appearing to have intended to do so), even though I wouldn’t argue with those who feel that Dedicated remains Cold World’s pinnacle. Interestingly, it seems like the “main” vocalist sings the least here, giving way to whoever does those James Hetfield vocals, not to mention the shift away from Life Of Agony vocals to a distinctly Corey Glover (yep, of Living Colour) form of emoting. If you haven’t heard Cold World before and this all sounds preposterous, just give them a chance, I swear. I only have one complaint about How The Gods Chill, though, and that’s that it is too short. I understand this band may be more of a part-time concern for its members at this point, but I just want more of it. Maybe they’re just stockpiling riffs for the inevitable Body Count collaboration…
Alessandro Cortini Sonno 2xLP (Hospital Productions)
If there’s a sharper businessman in the world of noise than Dominick Fernow, I’d love to meet them – he single-handedly made it reasonable practice for a one-sided LP with a screened cover to cost $20, and through nearly two decades, his audience remains unwavering and rabid. And he comes up with records like this: a double LP solo venture of one Alessandro Cortini, better known as the main synth guy for Nine Inch Nails, the originators of cult-based, limited-edition commerce in aggressive electronic music. You know this record (in its various colored-vinyl editions) will sell out in no time thanks to its varied, frenzied fanbases, and while I say all this not to shame Fernow and Hospital Productions, but rather to appreciate their cunning method of survival in an age where consumers see music as a God-given right alongside fresh air and flushable toilets, I should talk about the music, too! Sonno is the result of Cortini recording in hotel rooms and various transient spaces while on tour or doing whatever, and it’s a pretty cool serving of lonely ambient electronic texture. Of all things, it reminds me most of Kid 606’s ambient material for the Mille Plateaux label (or his Soccergirl 3″ CD EP in particular), in the way that the music sounds sad and distant without any sense of perversion or evil. It’s nearly soothing in a way, like a blanket as comfortable as it is visually unappealing, as Cortini’s unhurried synths play out quaint little melodies before disintegrating entirely. If you’ve got Sonno over at your house, I may request you throw it on if I end up spending the night.
Cottaging Mise En Abyme 7″ (Abscess)
Can’t help but think of cheese when I see the name Cottaging, and it suits them – their music has clearly fermented in some way that by all accounts shouldn’t be edible, but it’s actually quite delicious. Nice to see this new two-song single on the Abscess label, and it’s a good reminder of Cottaging’s existence, one of the most moderate-working bands out there today. “Meet Me At The Puritan” is a nice tune, cultivating an intimidating, brash form of indie rock that seems to have all but disappeared. Its never-ending bass-line is met with sparse, surfy guitar and a vocalist who takes heed from Watery Love or Shellac (and I guess the general attitude and presentation of the song falls somewhere between those two as well). “Mise En Abyme” is faster, with phased-out bass (I think it’s bass) and motorik drumming, and it somehow approaches a Dead Kennedys song by the second verse (although the vocals recall more Cheater Slicks than Jello Biafra). Cottaging are definitely on their own trip, pushing toward some other form of post-hardcore rock that isn’t currently inhabited by dozens of other bands, and I hope they keep at it. It’s cool!
Demdike Stare Testpressing #006 12″ (Modern Love)
Yep, the sixth installment of Demdike Stare’s Testpressing series is here, and at this point I have accepted its presence in my life, like a cable bill you actually look forward to each month. The last one, Testpressing #005, was their most earth-shattering moment since first coming onto the scene, and while this new one doesn’t reach that level of greatness, it’s still a worthy entry in this series. “40 Years Under The Cosh” is the a-side, and it’s beastly – it starts off like another mutated footwork track (UK producers have been having a field day messing around with this stuff as of late), but it slowly gains weight and size until threatening to ruin the block, all with a vague Prodigy aftertaste. “Frontin'” on the b-side opts for a different ’90s electronic style to juice up, this being Oval-style glitch, although instead of clicks and crackles Demdike are cooking with powerful blasts of 8-bit thunder. And before long, they cage it with a minimal, slow-mo thud, trying to re-write grime as though it were doom metal. See you next month!
Dick Diver New Name Blues / Lonely Life 7″ (Fruits & Flowers)
Ever since I first saw their name, I just figured Dick Diver was drug-fueled, antagonistic garage-punk ala Bits Of Shit and The Cuntz and so many other Aussie bands who use dirty words for their moniker. I mean it’s clearly not a man named Richard Diver’s solo project, right? Anyway, this single is my first time hearing this celebrated group, and lo and behold, turns out that they are sunshiney, left-of-center indie-pop. Who knew! (Probably everyone else.) Anyway, “New Name Blues” is quite a refreshing splash of water, just kinda thumping along with a twinkle in its eye until everything fades into a wide-open vista, horns tooting and guitars chiming, as if Kurt Vile suddenly became the Land O’ Lakes mascot. “Lonely Life” is a Coloured Stone song (gotta plead ignorance on them as well) but if it weren’t for my keen ability at reading the cover, I’d be none the wiser, as it wears its pop-bliss like Prefab Sprout or The Verlaines or some other group of people far too perfect to be so damn unpopular. Time for me to Dick Dive into their one of their albums, wouldn’t you say?
Eleven Twenty-Nine A Tithe To Hell LP (Drawing Room)
Drawing Room just keeps on pumping out the vinyl, in general accordance with U2’s message that rock isn’t dead. This LP is pretty cool, basically a shred-fest for mature audiences, or at least people who value a basic Wah pedal and killer tone over feedback and noise. I’m reminded of The Davis Redford Triad in the way that Eleven Twenty-Nine seem to aim skyward with their intense guitar improvisations (surely this isn’t all pre-planned?), and maybe a touch of The Psychic Paramount, although Eleven Twenty-Nine seem far less stressed and meticulous than them. There’s certainly an undeniable logic about Eleven Twenty-Nine sharing labels with Bardo Pond. The drums keep the train moving forward, but it’s really all about guitarists Tom Carter and Marc Orleans going buck-wild in the best of ways. Even when they mellow down, it feels as glorious as their most incendiary moments, not unlike those Jack Rose and Glenn Jones duets. Really such a pleasure to sit back and witness, truly a “masters at work” kinda record.
500 MG Receiver One / Receiver Two 7″ (Drawing Room)
500 MG is the solo project of Bardo Pond’s Michael Gibbons (get it?), and as this 7″ was released concurrently with that Bardo Pond single also on Drawing Room, it makes for a nice alternate view of Gibbons’ world – with sunglasses on, maybe? “Receiver One” is a sad strum of undistorted electric guitar, presumably picked by finger and slowly unraveled into a loose pile of wool on the floor. His playing reminds me of Loren Mazzacane Connors at his most fluid, at least until Gibbons lands a spaceship on the track and the guitar is doing its best to not be abducted. “Receiver Two” sounds like the interior of the spaceship post-abduction, with a hypoallergenic keyboard tone gracefully welcoming your brain into a jar. At least until an acoustic guitar shows up and dances like Leo Kottke doing a Bill Orcutt impression. I bet there are countless hours of 500 MG recordings just sitting around – Gibbons and the rest of Bardo Pond clearly have devoted themselves to the time-honored practice of music, and records like this are curious little peepholes into their world.
Golden Pelicans Golden Pelicans LP (Total Punk)
After a couple of cool (but non-mandatory) singles, Golden Pelicans stop messing around and deliver this beastly 45-RPM 12″ long-player like a hand-scrawled death threat. If they poked me in the gut before, they’re holding me by my ankles and shaking the change out of my pockets here, playing their classic-sounding, hard-edged punk rock as if it were the only thing that ever mattered in their lives. I can imagine the Golden Pelicans not being the type of folks to own racks and racks of collectible punk rock vinyl – this sounds like a record made by guys who own one Damned record, one Stooges record, and a scratchy CD compilation of the No Future catalog; that’s it. Just the classics, you know? Not sure if he really turned it up on this record or if I just somehow missed it before, but the singer has a a frothy, incensed scream that really pushes the music forward, somewhere between the respective vocalists of The Pink Lincolns and (the Australian) X. I thought the OBN IIIs were the tough leather-jacket rockers of our time, but I bet even those guys quietly step away from the pool table when Golden Pelicans walk into the bar.
Glue Glue 7″ (Katorga Works / Video Disease)
The first of this month’s “Austin hardcore-punk” entries comes care of Glue, a band whose simple-yet-effective name suits their music. This is a four-song EP of mid-tempo hardcore punk, very much in the vein of Negative Approach’s Tied Down, with vocals in the “violent Daffy Duck” style, not far from Men’s Interest or Bad Noids. I saw a live photo of Glue and it looked like a high school band competition if those old guys in The Inmates and Cider were the faculty, which is pretty much exactly how I could’ve hoped Glue would look. No frills, nothing new or experimental, just quality raging hardcore with a sound and delivery that is clearly of 2014 vintage. If you sniff one hardcore EP this year…
Great Reversals Natural Burial 7″ (How Soon Is Now? / Hydrogen Man / Protagonist Music)
It’s kind of crazy to think about, but basically every style of music ever created never went away. No matter what it is, people are still playing it somewhere, no matter how unbelievable that may be. For some, it might be skiffle or third-wave ska that seems least likely to still exist, but I’m having that sort of moment right now with ’90s metal-core, care of this Great Reversals 7″. They basically sound like a generic mix of Strife and Trial, with the occasional Hydra Head-approved melodramatic guitar performance. This sort of stuff often lives or dies by its vocalist, and the guy who sings for Great Reversals is just too intelligible to buy his conviction. If I found out that this was his first time recording vocals in a studio, I wouldn’t be surprised, as there’s a level of discomfort or awkwardness in his performance that I couldn’t help but pick up on. And the music is severely generic, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but it solidifies Great Reversals as a band not worth talking about. So I’ll shut up now.
Hank Wood & The Hammerheads Stay Home LP (Toxic State)
Hank Wood’s debut LP was one of the great unexpected hardcore records of 2012, the sort of album that grows in prominence with age. In a musical landscape where the concept of a unique hardcore band is more and more of an impossibility, Hank Wood & The Hammerheads offer a voice distinctly their own, conjuring a New York City where you’re likely to get slapped in the face with a hot slice of pizza for not crossing the street fast enough and where carnival stunts are as commonplace in the pit as stage-dives. I was really looking forward to this album, and I’m pleased to say that their formula remains the same (cow-punk percussion and garage-rock swagger mixed with hard-as-nails New York hardcore troupes). Two things in particular stick out: The Hammerheads seem to have honed their skills, really rocking the cowbells and additional percussion with flair and writing some thoughtful, dare-I-say mature riffs; they’ve also produced an album that is less memorable than their first. There’s no instant-classic like “It’s Hard On The Street” or “Don’t You Walk Away From Me” here, although the general bad boy attitude and hard-living essence are firmly intact. I didn’t expect Hank Wood to create that magical first album twice, and Stay Home is incredibly enjoyable too, it just helps to be familiar with Go Home to truly appreciate the nuance and development they’re showing. Sure, their development is pretty slight (Hank still sounds like he is throwing the microphone past his mouth for every word he shouts), and I plan on continuing to spin this one plenty, it’ll just be Go Home that’s etched into the hardcore history books.
Huerco S. A. Verdigris Reader 12″ (Proibito)
Huerco S. tried slipping this new 12″ under the radar, not even spelling out “Huerco” on the center sticker, but he couldn’t fool me! As a fan of both his album and earlier 12″, I had to locate this one. It’s unmistakably Huerco – this is PTSD-house, coping with some deep feelings of pain and resentment in the form of blurry, winded synths and nostalgic drum sounds. It’s cool, but after a few runs, I’ve decided that A Verdigris Reader is less inspired than his previous work – these four tracks generally enter the chill zone and hover until the lights go out, offering uninspired contemplation. If Huerco S. were a cook, this one feels like a frozen meal he tossed in the microwave for four minutes, not something that required labor over a cutting board and stove top. That sort of carelessness is cool with me, even in pre-programmed electronic music, but this is one Huerco S. release you can comfortably sit out, unless you dare to question my judgment.
Institute Giddy Boys 7″ (Katorga Works)
Institute are another Austin-based punk band, from the seemingly endless well of hardcore-punk out of that town. They’re also one of a few bands to offer both Katorga Works and Deranged Records on their resume, and unlike some of those peers, their sound is distinctive enough that I’ll remember them in the morning (and fondly, no less). They play a very simple, non-heavy form of punk, directly aping Crisis and ending up not too far from a Ceremony practice recording (I’m thinking Ceremony’s last album in particular, where most signs of hardcore aggression were scrubbed clean, leaving only tuneful simplicity behind). The vocalist certainly has a similar croak to Ceremony’s Ross Farrar, although he would probably flick a booger at such a comparison, because I get the impression that Institute are at the age where they can’t conceive of ever doing anything besides releasing records through friends and the DIY network and playing gross basements for donation money (you know, where Merchandise was two years ago). These three songs are all winners though, Flux Of Pink Indians-esque downer punk with the feel of a first-time band, rather than seasoned hardcore players going through the motions.
Ivy Ivy LP (Katorga Works)
Starting to feel like a fool that I haven’t seen the majority of the great new hardcore bands coming out of New York – like Ivy, for instance! I loved Brown Sugar (that Tropical Disease single is ten-year material for sure), and Ivy Seems to be the logical continuation of that, featuring the same lead singer and maybe one or two other dudes (sadly, the horn player was not invited). It’s hardcore that rages, but it’s the quirky personality and unhinged vibe that draw me in. I’m reminded of the knuckleheaded punk of Mutha Records’ early catalog, Adrenalin OD, and maybe a touch of the Angry Samoans’ catchy and simplistic nihilism. Ivy’s mid-paced jams are probably my favorite, like the one that starts off with “my friends are losers!” – it’s an age-old sentiment we can all appreciate, delivered with the gusto of an unemployed roommate enraged at the disappearance of the unopened salsa he just bought especially for himself. Aversion to fireworks be damned, if Ivy make their way down to my city sometime soon I’m gonna have to show up and get my boots dirty like the rest of their fans.
Naomi Punk Television Man LP (Captured Tracks)
I’ve heard a damn lot of new music in the past few years (as evidenced by this very website), but there’s still no way to hear it all, or even close to all of it, which is my lame excuse for having not heard Naomi Punk until recently, specifically this new album called Television Man. People I trust were raising a fuss about how great they were a couple years back, but I dunno, I never reached for them, even though I liked the name and everything. Well, now that I am checking them out, I can see why people were so excited. The thing that strikes me most about Naomi Punk’s taut, repetitive, simplistic punk music is how dejected it seems – I can’t remember the last time I heard a record that sounded more miserable than this, not in a Black Heart Procession sort of way, but rather that the band members all seem upset and frustrated by their existence in this band. It’s like every song was recorded directly after a screaming match over some pointless inter-band argument. I’m reminded of a heavier version of The Prefects’ “Going Through The Motions” on many of these tracks, as Naomi Punk are content to write one part per song, hammer it into the ground, and then kick a bunch of dirt on top so as to hide all evidence of its existence. And yet, it still kinda sounds like Roomrunner, too? I can’t picture myself settling into Television Man too frequently, not because I don’t like it but because of how musically unwelcoming it is (my mood has to be just right to appreciate a record like this), but I’m quite pleased to have finally made their acquaintance even if our relationship never makes it past the platonic stage.
The Number Ones The Number Ones LP (Static Shock)
Following one of the most pleasantly authentic power-pop debut 45s, The Number Ones return with a self-titled debut album, seeking to cement their band-name ranking status. I really loved their 7″, and this album is more of the same – upbeat, mod-ish, snappy power-pop with significantly closer lineage to The Undertones and Adverts than Cheap Trick and Big Star. They blaze through these songs with the spirit of punk, that’s for sure, as none of them stick around too long, resulting in a ten-track LP that zips by at 45 RPM. It’s a solid effort, but their sonic likeness to Exploding Hearts is particularly strong here, to the point of being almost distracting – their melodies, vocal approach and overall fidelity bear strong resemblance to Guitar Romantic, and while that’s by no means a bad thing, I can’t help but wish I was listening to that instead at various times. And, while there’s not a rotten egg in the bunch, “Sharon Shouldn’t” is the stand-out smash-hit, and it was featured on their debut 7″ as well, so its impact is lessened. Still, I don’t want to sound like an old codger – The Number Ones are a fantastic punk quartet and I would gladly wave their pennant from the sidelines were their parade to hit my town.
Patricia Side Piece EP 12″ (Spectral Sound)
Patricia, Siobhan, Lucy, Sophie, Millie and Andrea… pretty soon every female first-name will be used for some dude’s mysterious techno project. Kind of a weird trend, but Patricia has been pretty tight thus far, with his Body Issues album already fetching exorbitant bucks on the secondary market. This new EP is refreshingly not weird or modern – rather, the three original tracks here pay tribute to Perlon circa 2004, back when Ricardo Villalobos still focused his production work on the dance-floor and Matthew Dear was tearing it up as Jabberjaw and Audion (and quite fittingly, this EP is released on the Spectral Sound label). “Drip Dawn” is probably my favorite of the bunch, transforming a spoken syllable into a chunky piece of kick, but all of these tracks are great and seem to ignore today’s “basement full of analog hardware” obsession without sounding overly computerized either, happily floating in the middle alongside Levon Vincent and Marcel Fengler.
People Skills Tricephalic Head LP (Siltbreeze)
Gotta love Siltbreeze, as no matter how many game-changing underground artists they’ve (alright, he’s) dug up over the years, the label remains committed to putting completely unknown musical nonsense down on vinyl. Take People Skills for instance, a solo artist out of Philadelphia who I would’ve had no idea about were it not for this stately debut album. Tricephalic Head is pretty bleak, like what it must feel like to sleep on that awful mattress on the cover of the Kitchen’s Floor LP. I’m hearing some sort of super-depressed combo of Pink Reason’s Cleansing The Mirror, Lee Noble’s Ruiner and Russian Tsarlag’s Gagged In Boonsville, but with the guitars replaced by whatever rhythm generators and measly keyboards were to be found in the earliest practice spaces of Cabaret Voltaire and Young Marble Giants. All this with a constant warble effect laid on the vocals, to ensure that it sounds like the man behind People Skills is slowly drowning in an inch of water. This isn’t a record you can throw on at anytime and feel good about it – all your roommates or co-habitating family members must already be asleep or not yet woken up, and you’ve gotta be sitting there, staring into your lukewarm cup of coffee in search of answers. There are lyrics included in the cool DJ-style inner sleeve, but quite frankly I’m scared to read them.
The Pilgrims / Ghostt Bllonde Home & Home Vol. 2 7″ (Negative Fun)
How do you prefer your band names, plain or extra spicy? You get both on this split single! The Pilgrims start it off with some basement blue-eyed soul, somewhere between The Replacements and Titus Andronicus but not nearly as good as the former or as annoying as the latter. They’ve got two songs here, and I prefer the simplicity of the Big Star-ripping second, more suited to the singer’s affected sneer (and I’m a sucker for shitty hand-claps, of which there are plenty). Flip it over for the non-typoed Ghostt Bllonde, a band whose self-described “trash-pop / doom-wop” is like a sign that says “keep out, bedbugs here” when it comes to my personal musical tastes. It’s not that bad, though – it’s jangly, echo-y pop-rock, not too far from The Walkmen or where Merchandise are probably headed. The only extra consonants found here are in the band name, as the vocalist does a fine job stretching his vowels through various octaves without ever feeling forced. I’ll admit, I tried to prevent myself from enjoying anything called Ghostt Bllondes, but these guys broke down the wall I put up, if only for a song.
Henrik Schwarz Masse Remixes III 12″ (Ostgut Ton)
Hey, do you know what Masse is? Me neither! That’s the beauty of listening to techno music – there is this giant complicated multi-layered currently-expanding history that no single human being can possibly understand, nor could ever hope to listen to in their lifetime, so just grab whatever is around you or looks cool and give it a try. It must be so boring to be one of those guys who just collects colored vinyl variants of the first ten Revelation releases, you know? Anyway, I recall Henrik Schwarz from some killer remix somewhere, and Ostgut Ton is the best, so I checked this one out, and it’s really cool. “Lockstep” is the a-side, and it sounds like Schwarz sucked all the fat out of a techno track, reducing what might have been booming tribal drums to the sounds of a tiger pawing through the snow and rattling snares to chopsticks tapped on a marble counter-top. Nice effect, kind of bold, and hypnotic as it moves onward. “Unknown Touch Two” is the b-side and is significantly more traditional. The strings sound incredibly fresh here, like they just bloomed, and it turns a Marcel Fengler-worthy beat into something quite exquisite, like eating dark chocolate in a Swiss castle after midnight and scurrying down a tiled corridor before the head maid catches you. It’s a track that inspires such vivid descriptions, and my life is richer for having heard it. Danke, Herr Schwarz!
Scuba Death Nitrogen Narcosis LP (Further)
The name an artist chooses means a lot to me, maybe more than it should, but something like Scuba Death had me intrigued from the start – what was a name suited for an early Earache release doing on an experimental electronic label like Further? Turns out it fits just fine, a very thoughtfully considered album based on producer Ricardo Donoso’s “near-death experience in the Atlantic Ocean”. Cool, right? With that concept in mind, it plays out perfectly, a mix of infinitely deep analog techno swells, subtle ambient thump and an occasional mix of claustrophobia and disorientation. Imagine if Gas wasn’t inspired by the Black Forest but rather deep tidal swells and the unseen presence of sharks, and you’re pretty close to the mild terror that Nitrogen Narcosis invokes. The ocean really is this bizarre hell that currently exists on Earth, which only a tiny sliver of the population has delved into, and along with The Rita, I can comfortably say that I enjoy all the music I’ve ever heard that pays homage to its horrifying majesty.
Sewn Leather Motorcycle Ministry 12″ (American Tapes)
One deranged and scummy electronic metal-head meets another with Sewn Leather’s new one-sided 12″ for the sadly soon-ending American Tapes label. They call this one “trip metal”, and while almost anything sounds cool coming from an American Tapes press release, how could you not at least be a little intrigued, if not super-psyched? I dug Sewn Leather before, and this one starts promisingly, with random bursts of feedback underpinning an echoed sample of Gangland or one of those other gang-exploitation shows on Spike or FX. It really sets the mood, but then when the music kicks in, I dunno – I’m not totally feeling it. Maybe it’s because every other ex-noise dude is doing some form of beat-related electro / techno now, and many are really quite good at it, but this material feels weak in comparison. It’s probably the recording’s fault more than anything – the tape hiss overwhelms any sort of heaviness the beats might carry, and the vocals are just kind of an echo-y itch on the back of your neck, never a commanding presence. The songs don’t seem particularly thought out, either, more like something that was made up as it went along, so it stacks up short next to similar artists like Future Blondes and M Ax Noi Mach. Sewn Leather is capable of some serious electro-terrorist scum-punk, and I hope there comes a day when he gets a worthy recording.
Shackleton Deliverance Series No. 1 12″ (Woe To The Septic Heart)
Before I get into the music on this new Shackleton 12″, can I just mention how consistently cool his artwork is? For a while there he had some sort of psychedelic, vegetation-obsessed, Pushead-style guy doing his art, and this one comes with some great primitive and splattery ink art, not unlike Jean Dubuffet or Rizili of Menstruation Sisters. Anyway, just like the art, Shackleton has hit a level of quality the majority of us can only dream about, and this new one is top notch too. If anything, Deliverance has Shackleton moving further away from the dance-floor and closer to intense modern composer territory, kind of feeling like something Steve Reich would’ve composed in collaboration with Sir Richard Bishop if they were only allowed to use synths and samplers. Both tracks are long-form, with various movements and shifts and alleyways, and while there is no basic 4/4 kick running the show, these tracks follow the standard Shackleton MO of exotic alien percussion crash-landing in the Middle East in the year 2099. Man On A String Part 1 And 2 remains my favorite Shackleton EP, and I think I preferred the recent Freezing Opening Thawing to this one as well, but that’s not to say this isn’t entirely hypnotic and intriguing in its own right. Looking forward to the rest of the Deliverance series, that’s for sure!
Skander Dirge 12″ (L.A. Club Resource)
Death metal fonts used by techno artists are always a good sign, and a title like Dirge had me thrilled to throw this one on, not to mention its home on the consistently impressive L.A. Club Resource label. Of the four thick cuts on this 12″, I’m not sure which is the dirge, though – they all seem to move at the same pace, something like 120-125 BPM, appropriate for a hip club rather than a demonic funeral. The dirge must be in the sonics, then, as I can only picture Skander’s samplers and drum machines encasted in a thick layer of black filth, like they were left outside near the street and accidentally paved over. The hi-hats are particularly crusty, and on the second a-side track, the whole thing takes on a very monotonous, textural affair, like there’s a giant set of helicopter blades between yourself and the stereo. Nothing new here, that’s for sure, but Skander’s entry in the Russian Torrent Versions-styled basement analog crud sweepstakes is welcome, another fine offering of relentless, semi-anonymous lo-fi thump.
Total Control Typical System LP (Iron Lung)
So it’s October 1st, and if you haven’t already downloaded the Total Control album four months ago and picked up the vinyl a couple weeks ago, you probably ended up on this website by mistake. Therefore, I write this for the remaining few who haven’t yet checked out Total Control’s seamless synthesis of cold-wave and classic punk. Their debut album Henge Beat was a bold statement that delighted both underground elitists and indie dabblers alike, and Typical System follows suit, its needle slowly inching toward the synth-pop side of the equation. To some, it might seem a little antiseptic at first, with the filth of punk basements mostly scrubbed clean (“Systematic Fuck” being the hardest stain to remove), but I’d argue that the raw energy of early Total Control records is still alive and well, just bolstered by a richer sonic palate and steadier synth hand. Drummer James Vinciguerra offers at least a hundred different drum fills, vocalist Daniel “DX” Stewart is more confidently cool than ever, and Mikey Young remains the world’s most modest guitar god. I’d consider a Total Control tattoo, but “Flesh War” and “Safety Net” are already etched in my heart, and that’s what really counts, right?
Ulsers Forget Them LP (Wallaby Beat)
Wallaby Beat is a blog and record label proudly loitering in the strangest corners of Australian rock music, and their biggest feat thus far may be the release of this archival Ulsers material on vinyl LP. Pretty nice project all around, with plentiful color photos of the band (who strangely seem to resemble The Hooters). As for the music, well that’s pretty cool too, and not solely from a historical point either. Ulsers were around in the late ’70s / early ’80s, and they seem to split the difference between Midwestern USA acid-fried weirdness and British art-school DIY. Imagine if Mark Perry was the primary songwriter for Tin Huey, and you’re pretty close to the goofy, grating stumble that Ulsers offer. There’s practically more saxophone than guitar, and it’s either wildly gesticulating or calmly following the melody, all while some guy yells “somebody loves you but it’s not me” as he attempts to stifle his own laughter. While I might not be coming back to Forget Them that frequently in the future, it certainly adds another splash of color to Australia’s already quite-vivid post-punk landscape.
Video Cult Of Video 7″ (No Good)
Video continue to be one of the most entertaining domestic punk bands, to the point where I can politely overlook them essentially burning the American flag in the form of this German-released 7″ single. First they asked us to join the hate wave, and now we’re expected to submit to the Cult Of Video, but that’s fine with me so long as they keep sounding this inspired. “Cult Of Video” has an interesting blueprint: it’s uniquely structured in the way it slowly builds intensity (I swear the drummer only uses a kick for the first minute), and it finishes with frantic guitar solos and a heavily-chantable chorus. “City Of Hate” is bouncier and shorter, less of a masterpiece than “Cult Of Video” but still a fine entry in their growing songbook. Another classic Video!
Wildhoney Seventeen Forever 7″ (Photobooth)
If I were to actually look back at myself as a seventeen year-old, I’d probably be horrified, but it’s nice to pretend I was some wistful and naïve lad on the constant cusp of lust and heartbreak. “Seventeen Forever” certainly helps me slip away into that false nostalgia, and it’s really quite beautiful – I kinda hate shoegaze, just in general, but Wildhoney make the genre sound like the most thoughtful and resonant thing a person can do with a rock band. These tracks are centered in pop-rock, replete with beautiful vocals and swirling guitars, like a mainstream-aspiring Slowdive or Belly if they never had that radio hit. The two b-side songs are just as beautiful, almost beating that last Dum Dum Girls album at its own game, but with far humbler resources. This is the second great Wildhoney EP out there, and part of me really wants to see them live now, just to witness this spark of magic in person, but another part of me is afraid they’ve just absolutely nailed it on record and anything else would fall short. If Wildhoney are as stunning live as they are recorded, I might not be ready for it anyway.
YOU. Sunchaser LP (Dais)
For a world that is anything but short on modern gothy synth-wave, I was pretty excited for this new YOU. album, a band whose specific punctuation and capitalization request I am willing to honor. Their EP on Blind Prophet wasn’t some uniquely creative work of art, but the beats hit harder, the vibe was deeper and I found myself more eager to enter their dark little crawlspace than many other bands of their ilk. So now I’m spinning Sunchaser, and either I have a poor recollection (possible) or YOU. have shifted toward a more melodic, Joy Division-esque approach than their earlier EBM-indebted material. It’s so sweetly, simply melodic that the sheet music for “Get Paid” could be easily re-worked by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, for crying out loud! This could certainly lead to disaster, but once I acclimated myself to YOU.’s lighter, friendlier stance, the Cure-ish nature of “Breaking Collapse” was easy to settle into. No matter how dark the club is, you have to prepare yourself for the morning light, and Sunchaser makes for an easy transition.
Bardo Pond Without A Doubt / Heaven II 7″ (Drawing Room)
My feelings about Bardo Pond match my feelings about firefighters: I rarely think about them, yet in the back of my mind somewhere, it’s reassuring to know they’re there. Bardo Pond are a Philadelphia institution over two decades strong, and this new 7″ is a nice little updated snapshot. “Without A Doubt” feels like every Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd breakdown melting into an extended HD slow-motion shot, revealing extra layers of guitar you never realized were there, all howling at the moon and dripping like some mystical hourglass. “Heaven II” is where you go if you die while in Heaven, and it basically feels like a direct continuation of “Without A Doubt”, tumbling past alien galaxies and time-space continuums in search of the eternal Wawa hoagie. It really sounds quite lovely, and while I admittedly don’t closely follow Bardo Pond, I’m starting to think it would be a good idea to track down whatever their latest LP is. If anything, this single’s mellow trip is over too soon.
Beth Israel Dental Denial LP (Dull Tools)
Wasn’t sure what to make of this Beth Israel LP on first look – it’s probably not a woman named Beth Israel, I’m thinking, that’d just be too coincidental, and what’s up with the hand-written Disney font? I heartily enjoyed the Eaters LP on Dull Tools, so I was excited to throw this one on regardless, and it’s about as weird as I could have expected. I suppose Beth Israel (it’s just a band name after all) could (and probably should) get lumped in the whole lo-fi indie-garage thing that is still going strong (did you know there are roughly a quarter-thousand Captured Tracks releases?), but there’s something lurking beneath the surface here that’s uniquely Beth Israel. I guess I’d describe it as this feeling of exhaustion or defeat, like there’s no wild Brooklyn party waiting for Beth Israel at night, just an elderly parent to care for or a final collection notice. Imagine Tyvek if they were just diagnosed with terminal cancer, and watch as their rambunctious attitude simmers down to the sadly resigned strum of “Family”. Sure, there are some upbeat Ty Segall-ish songs here too, but this group often feels like The Beets if they just kept partying into their late 30s and suddenly realized they don’t have any real friends. And then like halfway through this album, some guy starts aping Ian Curtis and I realize they haven’t just slit their wrists, but mine as well. All this under the guise of a fun-in-the-sun indie-punk act! I like it.
Big Boys No Matter How Long The Line Is At The Cafeteria, There’s Always A Seat! LP (Modern Classics Recordings)
It’s 2014, and this is the second Big Boys record review I’m posting on this internet website this year. I wonder if the freaks in Big Boys would’ve anticipated that? I also wonder if critics of other art forms have to review reissues like this, standard-issue reprints of canonical, critically-undisputed albums. What do you say about a new print of The Scream, or A Clockwork Orange on limited-edition Blu-ray? Anyway, this is one of Big Boys’ iconic, genre-defining skate-punk albums, filled with Gang Of Four-style funk, Bad Brains-y thrash and Minutemen grooves, and for better or worse, it’s one of the reasons why Red Hot Chili Peppers came to exist. To be honest, I’m not a huge Big Boys fan (at least on a musical level), but there’s no arguing with a record like this. Modern Classics (a division of Light In The Attic, which seems weird) opted for the finest materials for this basic reissue, going with a thick tip-on gatefold, a fancy paper/plastic inner sleeve and pristine virgin vinyl (or at least that’s what it feels like), so that’s nice at least. Feel free to buy it!
The Bilders Utopians 7″ (SmartGuy)
How many rock n’ roll national treasures does a nation as tiny as New Zealand have? Is like every third guy some sort of psychedelic blue-collar svengali raised on Velvets bootlegs and the concept of punk? I’m not complaining, even though it does get a little tiring to hear every underground record critic gush out praise for all these old NZ farts, but a record like this gives credence to the endless acclaim I’m sick of reading. The Bilders have been around since the ’80s, based around Bill Direen, and while that sort of longevity is usually a warning sign, these songs are quite smashing. “The Utopians R Just Out Boozin'” might have a funny title but The Bilders play it cool the whole way through, grooving somewhere between Lou Reed and The Fall, right were the leather meets the corduroy. “Mardy” snakes through the bar like a black-market solicitor, and it makes perfect sense to realize that The Native Cats are only a boat ride’s distance away. “C.B.A.Z.Y. Extract” is a chunk of a live tune, demonstrating The Bilders’ ability to, well, build, letting it loose in Austria to a crowd that had to be shuffling and skipping so long as they were alive at all. Guess I’m just one of those annoying praise-filled critics after all!
B-Lines Opening Band LP (Hockey Dad / Nominal)
Glad to see that Vancouver’s B-Lines are still splashing around up there. From catching a frantic live set, and their very-good debut LP, I’m proudly a B-Lines fan, and pleased to announce that this new LP cements that fact. They’re a little zanier this time around, not necessarily in songwriting approach but in delivery – I can’t help but feel like the singer is screaming all of his lyrics directly into my face, and there’s a constant buzz of cymbal-crash / open hi-hat surrounding the drums, giving off an air of slop even though they are played with precision. I’m reminded of Plow United, Jay Reatard and The Ergs at times, the sort of bouncy punk rock that tries to bum a cigarette off you, and the title track has a sly self-awareness that I’ve only ever seen Life Partners tackle so effectively. A cool and speedy record for sure, the sort of thing that makes it more understandable when I hear about punks from Halifax making the hundred-hour drive just to hang out in Vancouver for a while.
Brody’s Militia Napalm Zeppelin Raids EP 7″ (SPHC)
Brody’s Militia were showing up right as I was getting out of my intense power-violence obsession (the turn of the century or so), so they’re a name I have seen around for probably a decade without ever hearing until now. And now that I have, I gotta say – what a wonderfully weird band they are! This 7″ opens with the sort of full-frontal hardcore-grind I’d expect to find on a Reality compilation, but the song eventually veers toward heavy riff-rock not unlike Orange Goblin or Kyuss or something. Not too much of a stretch I suppose, but then they sincerely pursue their Southern stoner roots on “Patriot Act”, which sounds like John Brannon singing for Black Oak Arkansas, before flip-flopping back into speedy hardcore thrash. Interesting! I know most drunk crusties probably listen to AC/DC and ZZ Top more than the patches on their jacket might lead one to believe, but I’ve never heard such a seamless integration of classic rock and grindcore-thrash as this. I’m not even sure I want to hear it, but maybe that’s just the conservative in me, scared of hardcore being integrated with anything else. Good for these guys for pulling it off!
Alex Coulton Bleep Sequence 12″ (Mistry)
Alex Coulton is one of those young bucks out of Manchester delving deep into techno, house, dubstep and whatever other modern dance music he’s encountered. Figured I’d give this one a shot, because why not, and it’s a tight and snappy little EP. “Bleep Sequence” is nice – it feels like classic Skream reduced down even further. There are barely three separate sounds going off for most of this cut, as if Coulton took Benga’s “Night” and just sucked the marrow out of it. “Tension” fills up the flip, and it’s a bit more involved, but not by much – Coulton’s beats are full of dark, empty space, and while many other producers might suffer from such simplicity, Coulton maintains the beat even when it’s missing. “Tension” gives a jarring synth-shot the role of timekeeper, and shakes drums both big and small over top, progressing forward without ever feeling too linear. I love listening to this 12″, not only for its mix of celebration and menace, but because of the optimism it gives me for the future – as long as people like Alex Coulton are out there pushing things further and into new territory, all is not lost.
Damien Dubrovnik Patterns Of Penetration 7″ (Alter)
The first time I reviewed a Damien Dubrovnik record, I foolishly thought it was the work of a guy named Damien Dubrovnik and not two Posh Isolation noise-youngsters. Alright, you got me! Anyway, I loved Europa Diary, and this new two-song 7″ EP is great too, expanding their grim and dreary power-electronics to a synth-led wasteland. “Penis Corset” (yes, “Penis Corset”) comes first, and it has a punchy synth groove with disgustingly barked vocals – while listening, I’m picturing Sakevi providing guest vocals for the Toll LP on Broken Flag and it’s a nice scenario to envision, particularly as Damien Dubrovnik avoid sounding like noise-screamo (a common pitfall). “Patterns Of Penetration” appears on the flip, and they back away from the groove here, opting for a sort of call-and-response between radio static and a painful sinewave, at least until some dour two-note organ riff shows up to cremate the corpses. The vocals are appropriated toned-down here, like a psychotic villain slowly reading newspaper headlines to his helplessly bound victims before starting his torment. Now, to go make sure I filed their LP under “Damien” instead of “Dubrovnik”, lest this keep me up at night with worry.
Degreaser Rougher Squalor LP (Ever/Never)
The world is overrun with Birthday Party-inspired noise-rockers these days, but Degreaser have always stood out from the pack – they dragged their sludgy tunes out further than the rest, barely crawling but quite capable of sneaking up and pinching your butt. It was much to my surprise when I threw Rougher Squalor on, then, as the album opens with some scorched blues guitar that I swore came directly off Tetuzi Akiyama’s Don’t Forget To Boogie!, like a ZZ Top lick cast into a wood-burning stove. Then the rest of the band kicked in, and I eventually got used to Degreaser’s new approach, forsaking anything remotely Nick Cave- or AmRep-related for hard rock’s earliest days, when Blue Cheer sounded like the apocalypse and The Stooges were considered a novelty joke act. Turns out Degreaser are quite capable with this approach too, wah-wah guitar and repetitive bass jams in full force, with stoner vocals layered deep in the mix. It’s good stuff, but I think I prefer Degreaser’s earlier sound, as they stood out more then – Rougher Squalor is great, it just sounds like half a dozen other bands, and I probably won’t distinctly recall any of these riffs in a couple weeks. Good for them for finding a new decade of rock to excavate, though – there are so many fun styles of guitar music to play, why limit yourself in our short time on Earth?
Delivery Drama 12″ (L.A. Club Resource)
After that DJ Punisher 12″ on L.A. Club Resource walloped me over the head, I had to seek out this 12″, the other newest release from this intriguing label. As people that buy records, we’ve all had some delivery drama, like when the post office says someone left a slip on your door but they never actually did, but the music here contains none of that unnecessary anxiety and frustration, just some punchy, swift techno. I was expecting it to be a little stranger, actually – “Bahgtfo” is the a-side cut (not that you’d know it from the packaging) and it’s like a recent Omar S dance cut played on 45 instead of 33, with a slight case of acid reflux bubbling up toward the end but ultimately going down smooth. “Drama” is the b-side and it has more of a Kraftwerkian grind, with a lunkheaded thunk befitting a Rob Gee production circa 1994 or so. Definitely digging “Drama” for its brutal simplicity, the sort of cut that “anyone could do” but I’m glad Delivery did. I’m not even an L.A. club but I keep finding this label to be highly resourceful.
Demdike Stare Testpressing #005 12″ (Modern Love)
Okay so basically every month or so I’m on here complaining about paying for the greatness of Demdike Stare, and of course it’s mostly in jest, but the reason I am so strongly stuck on this group is because of records like this, records that come at me completely sideways and tussle my hair and just make me re-evaluate what dark electronic music can be about. Seriously, if you find yourself in need of one of Demdike Stare’s “Testpressing” releases, this is the one to go for! “Procrastination” is the a-side cut, and it’s fantastic – it feels like an Emptyset rhythm played on Throbbing Gristle’s gear, trading in that greyscale boom for what sounds like mortar explosions, digital renditions of broken glass and militant hi-hat. I can just picture Miles or Sean hunched over one dusty sampler, playing “Procrastination” by hand, the other guy rapidly rearranging runes and talismans on a black velvet tablecloth. I figured it would be my favorite Demdike track this year, until I flipped this 12″ over for “Past Majesty”. What a cut! It sounds like Joe Preston and Stephen O’Malley remixing Nine Inch Nails’ Broken, and then shortly thereafter releasing it on Pre-Cert Entertainment under the guise that it’s a lost occult krautrock record that Tony Iommi recorded in 1976 before the studio mysteriously burnt down. Seriously, I can barely contain my excitement for Testpressing #005, and feel completely vindicated that I’ve spent what is probably hundreds of dollars on Demdike records (and that’s buying them new – I can’t imagine those who are paying secondary market “collector” prices). Highest recommendation from atop the highest peak of this fine planet!
Dragon Turtle Distances LP (Oscillating Color)
I know Dragon Turtle as a friendly local ambient-rock group, the sort of guys you’re happy to have bust out their guitars and oscillators at a campfire gathering. They’re from the Lehigh Valley in Pennsylvania, same as me, and Distances comes with a laundry list of contributing musicians that read like a who’s who of friendly Pennsylvanian avant-garde musicians, from Russell Higbee (formerly of Man Man and The Holy Fallout) to Mary Lattimore and Jay Hudak (that’s right, even An Albatross is represented here). It’s with that convivial spirit that Distances plays out, much like the foggy alien terrain on the cover, but as a place of wonder, not fear. They behave like an American Sigur Rós (would that just make them Victory Rose?), building up thick layers of atmosphere and tugging at heartstrings with soft and caring hands. At their most vicious, I’m reminded of Tamaryn’s hazy aesthetic, music for drifting into pleasant sleep. It’s not a style I often gravitate toward, and I could be swelling with hometown pride, but Distances is a sharply-executed album for this style, from the art design to the pristine swells of sound within. If you want to join me, I’ll be in the rose-tinted tide pool just past the Eastern volcanic formation.
Fat Creeps Must Be Nice LP (Sophomore Lounge)
Fat Creeps? Uh, okay. Anyway, this is another Massachusetts-based group who are doing that whole ’90s indie pop-punk resurgence thing, and they sound pretty good! With a name like “Fat Creeps”, you kind of assume the band has set their sights fairly low, and while that comes through on some of these riffs, which are often quite average, the singer has a particularly cool voice and the band plays these songs with more inspiration than I could personally muster. There are even some slower, moodier tunes that give off a “Chan Marshall fronting Potty Mouth” vibe, which is a nice contrast to the sunshine-slacker sensation that fills most of Must Be Nice. The name is still kinda putting me off, though – if I may, please allow me to suggest a name change to the Mostly-Girl Autumn Downer Band? I guess at the very least, they don’t use two Vs instead of a W, nor have they randomly removed any vowels, so I’ll give them that. But yeah, there are some cool tunes here for sure, and while Fat Creeps haven’t rocked my world, they are a slight cut above your average weed-and-pizza-and-kitties pop-punk band.
Frau Punk Is My Boyfriend 7″ (Static Shock)
Now that I’m accustomed to the delightful punk squeal of Frau, care of last year’s demo recently pressed to vinyl, I was pretty psyched to check out this new single, even if the title had me humming Fastbreak’s “Music Is My Girlfriend” to myself. Thankfully, this short punk 7″ is entirely un-hummable – it’s all just spastic fits and screeching halts, and it ranks much higher than their demo in my book, dare I say surpassing Good Throb as “London’s Best Punk Band” (although I don’t truly dare to say that). It’s so hard to tell what’s going on with the two a-side tracks that I wish I released it myself, as punk rock that unintentionally borders on Jean Dubuffet-style sound-art is one of my favorite forms of music. The import price for a 7″ these days is killer, and this one is only a few minutes long, but I prefer to judge the value of records in terms of quality, not length. This one right here is of the highest standard.
The Garment District If You Take Your Magic Slow LP (Night People)
The days of equating Night People with costumed noise seem to be essentially over, making way for a softer, daintier form of underground pop, like K Records if it was spawned in a town that hates art. Sweet DIY pop is what The Garment District are all about, as they wind their way through various instrumentation to a similar endpoint of cozy, intimate indie music. I’m often reminded of the Elephant 6 collective, picking up some serious Olivia Tremor Control and Elf Power vibes early on, but while The Garment District have a singer (and her April March-esque voice fits wonderfully), half of these songs are long instrumentals, plodding along like cartoon turtles on their way to the pond. They even play one song twice, with vocals and without, but the song titles are different so maybe my brain is tricking me? They’re usually a relaxed, pretty rock band here, but The Garment District can settle in on an electronic beat just as comfortably, which keeps If You Take Your Magic Slow from falling into a rut. No pretense here, just some cute tunes, the sort of thing that would make flowers dance on a children’s TV show. It’s adorable without sounding like iPod commercial music, so I tip my hat.
Gog Gog LP (King Of The Monsters)
Nice to see that the re-booted King Of The Monsters label appears to be a full-time thing, and that they continue to release heavy, ugly, underground music. Never heard of Gog before (and like you, I had to double-check to make sure it wasn’t actually Gag), but this album ain’t half bad. They’re kind of like a black-metal version of Explosions In The Sky – picture long-form mood-setting ambient instrumental guitar music, but instead of beautiful melodies chiming upward, Gog deliver menacing guitar drone, low-octave piano bashing and unsettling hives of noise. By the third track, we’re in full-on percussion-banging crescendo mode, as though the black clouds you saw from miles away finally rolled into your small town and started downing trees left and right. It’s a little generic I suppose (the beautiful inner sleeve has one of those “the sun through tree branches” photos that almost seems like a prerequisite for the genre at this point, and the song titles are long and melodramatic), but Gog are confident, patient players who clearly take their chaotic dust-storm of sound seriously. Maybe this is what modern-day Swans would sound like if the band existed without the tyrannical direction of Michael Gira? No matter what the case, I hope there’s a Friday Night Lights moment in Gog’s future.
Hero Dishonest Kaikki Hajoaa 7″ (Peterwalkee)
Here’s a nice and new five-song Hero Dishonest EP on the Peterwalkee label, America’s number-one importer of Finnish hardcore-punk. Nothing has changed in Hero Dishonest’s MO since I last encountered them, and that’s no complaint – they are still crazy, frantic, occasionally-moshable and highly enjoyable. I’m frequently reminded of Japanese hardcore stalwarts Gauze, as the vocal delivery and general syllabic cadence are quite similar (and I comprehend as much Japanese as I do Finnish), Jellyroll Rockheads when the songs slip over the edge into insanity, and oddly enough, the metallic NY crossover of Crumbsuckers (some of these slower parts just reek of a CBGBs matinee with a guy in an Agnostic Front shirt creepycrawling off the stage). I’ve had the benefit of seeing Hero Dishonest perform live, in their home country no less, so knowing that it’s four old white guys with long hair wearing wrinkled t-shirts and construction boots makes it that much more appealing. Why can’t old American punks be as non-embarrassing as this?
Idea Fire Company The Laboratory EP 7″ (I Dischi Del Barone)
If you have that one friend who is really into noise, like someone who turns the vacuum cleaner on just to listen to its variant overtones and speaks of Jason Lescalleet on a first name basis, you can be damn sure they’ve got more than a couple Idea Fire Company albums stacked up in their home. They’re one of those serious edge-of-the-earth, test-of-strength noise groups, where the very concept of noise is erased over, folded into a crane, and then discarded. I don’t always want to hear them, but when I do, they hit the spot like no one else, so I was excited for this peculiar little EP on the new I Dischi Del Barone label out of Sweden. Depending on your point of view, the following will be either good news or bad news – both tracks are little more than two extended synth-tones held down for what was probably all of eternity (but due to the limitations of the 7″ format we only get to inspect about five minutes per side). Certainly nothing more than that, and nothing less, just two inharmonious tones subtly warbling while you sit there like a dumb-ass. I kinda love it, on one hand, but I also know I am perfectly content never hearing it again. At the very least, I am delighted that this record exists.
Kam Kama Shift LP (Sister Cylinder)
Kam Kama are really going for it, but it’s a good it – I’m not talking about hype-fueled micro-stardom or corporate sponsorship, but rather a thoughtfully-considered, stylish, and quality musical aesthetic on their band-run label. I heard their 7″ before and thought it was okay, and Shift, their debut full-length, is cooler, more realized and more confident. I’d describe their sound as a jazzy, melancholy form of art-rock, somewhere between The Cure and At The Drive-In? The music is clean and understated, and while there are all sorts of interesting riffs, nothing ever gets tangled – at times, listening to their music is like watching a really respectful debate. I’m also reminded of The Zoltars, as both bands share an inherent intellectual sadness that I find appealing, like these guys are all friendless nerds who discovered the secret to the meaning of life but will never share it because no one talks to them. The first lyrics on the record are “so hard to hear / when your clothes smell like smoke / and you’re embarrassed / in front of yourself” – Kam Kama have found a peculiar way to express their doldrums, and I’m worried that if they refine themselves any further their anxieties might rub off on me, too.
Keluar Vitreum 12″ (Desire)
Nice to see a new Keluar record not too long after their debut, care of the Desire record label, who seem to be locking down the modern cold-wave game. At this point, I’m fairly used to Keluar’s sound (biting, astringent synth-pop with unusual melodies and deconstructed beats), and they offer no surprises in that regard here. However, part of me will forever compare them to vocalist Alison Lewis’ previous project, Linea Aspera, and I continue to wish some of Linea’s hook-laden melodies were resurrected here. If anything, Keluar push even further from the Wierd Records scene toward a darkened abyss of synth experimentation, complete with jagged edges and strange cooridors. There are some songs on here where Lewis’s slow-motion siren call doesn’t quite fit with the aggressive tone of the music, but it makes for an interesting clash – Vitreum never sags or lags. I’m still hoping Keluar decide, if only for once, to bust out some La Roux-destroying synth-pop banger, but I’ll be content if they keep releasing unique and intriguing records like this.
Life Stinks Portraits / Sweep It Under The Rug 7″ (Total Punk)
What’s that smell? Why, it’s life itself, back with another two-song slow-motion cruise to bummertown. If I were Total Punk, I’d make Life Stinks one of my marquee artists (along with say, Video and Lumpy & The Dumpers), as they’ve just got it, that sort of unfakeable punk rock coolness that I need in my life. They gutsily re-format Flipper’s “Love Canal” into a song called “Portraits”, singing different words and shifting the drumbeat just enough so that they avoid paying royalties. Their boldest borrowed riff thus far, and they make smart use of it, rocking as though the audience is slowly filtering out and they couldn’t care less. “Sweep It Under The Rug” is great too, fitted with a simpler riff, slowed-down Urinals drumming and a memorable sing-along vocal, the sort of tune that guys over forty can pogo to (their knees are starting to go, so a slower tempo like this is key). Ready and waiting for more Life Stinks, that’s for sure…
Lonely Wholesome Vanity / Lethargy 7″ (Wild Animal)
Lonely Wholesome is the newest solo project of Jonah Falco, one of my favorite musicians (Fucked Up, Career Suicide, Mad Men, etc.), not to mention human beings. Maintaining Fucked Up’s deliberately outrageous pressing style, this 7″ is limited to 400 copies and comes on five different colors of vinyl (it’s at the point where if you’re the type of person who actually cares to own records like this on different colors of vinyl, you deserve all the suffering you get). Anyway, this is a really strange one, certainly not what I expect from Mr. Falco – Discogs files it under “Alternative Rock” and I’d have to agree. “Vanity” is this quiet little wormy song that recalls a Pixies b-side, maybe some early REM that John Peel would’ve enjoyed, or I dunno, Violent Femmes? The vocals are especially nerdy (is that Jonah?) and I honestly don’t understand the point of the song. “Lethargy” doesn’t make things any easier, as it sounds like The American Analog Set or Bedhead, one of those dark indie bands comprised of wimps that purposely helped worsen your depression, maybe with a slight hint that the next Lonely Wholesome record will sound entirely like Machines Of Loving Grace. This one’s not for me, but I’m still delighted to have listened to it, and I remain assured that while the rest of us are asleep in our beds for fifty to sixty hours a week, Jonah Falco is using that time to lay down rhythm guitar or backing vocals on one of the dozens of bands he’s dreamed up.
Lumpy And The Dumpers Bat 7″ (Total Punk)
Didn’t take long for Total Punk to pull some more Lumpy And The Dumpers out of some big abandoned toxic-sludge facility in St. Louis, and who can blame them? They might be the most discussion-worthy hardcore-punk band of the year, and rightfully so, even after I found out that this is actually just a vinyl pressing of a two-song tape from back in 2012. I don’t care, because I don’t have that tape and Lumpy and his gang have been nothing short of vinyl-worthy. This one might be a just a hair shy of the greatness that is Gnats In The Pissa, but it’s still really cool – “Bat” is perfect for those already planning their Halloween parties. I love how the drums seem to kick in just a millisecond too late, but then maintain proper timing… I thought only Iceage could pull off such mean-spirited sloppiness. B-side “X-Rod” is another science-fiction-based punk wreck, and with the addition of slight reverb on the vocals, I swear I’m listening to The Mentally Ill reincarnate. Punk obscurities Max Load wrote the b-side in 1979, Lumpy And The Dumpers wrote the a-side in 2012, and there is essentially zero difference between the two. How long until a Lumpy And The Dumpers album? Could the world be so lucky?
No Intention Good Intentions / Material Dilemma 7″ (I Dischi Del Barone)
Along with the Idea Fire Company 7″, I Dischi Del Barone released this No Intention 7″, a drastically different form of ‘experimental’ music but just as uncompromising (and probably just as annoying to 99% of the population). “Good Intentions” is a spoken-word piece over a rhythmic, electronic boing, which eventually gets warped into itself before dissolving entirely. It’s like an update on LCD Soundsystem’s “Losing My Edge”, but for the Kye Records set. The flip is what seems to be a fairly unedited field recording of someone sitting in the reception area of a Jiffy Lube, trying to eat their lunch-hour sandwich while waiting for their oil to be changed. The tape is fast-forwarded seemingly at random, and it’s really the highest form of art in that it circles back around to being totally pointless and stupid. No idea who is behind No Intention; could be some famous avant raconteur or some nobody’s cousin, but the beauty of a track like this (which ends with some untrained piano plonking) is that it’s kind of irrelevant who made it. No matter its creator, it will take you to the same zone of drab meta-reality, like having an out-of-body experience only to watch yourself tie your shoes. Intriguing, for sure, although I am more interested in the future tricks of I Dischi Del Barone than No Intention.
Opéra Mort Dédales LP (Alter)
Opéra Mort is a duo consisting of one of my favorite French freaks, El-G, and Jo Tanz, a French freak to whom I am glad to become acquainted. If you’ve heard any El-G material, Dédales might not be much of a shocker, but that’s cool with me – I could listen to El-G any day of the week. I’m reminded of Nurse With Wound, of course, and maybe Drekka too, but Opéra Mort feels closer in spirit to early Cabaret Voltaire or Throbbing Gristle, like it was borne of the punk scene and quickly got fed up with its restrictions. This material is bit more slow-moving and restrained than the El-G I’m used to hearing, but I appreciate avant-noise artists who take their time and avoid throwing the whole kitchen sink down the steps. There’s usually some sort of drone or synth presence on these tracks, but the rest of the sounds seem to come from parts unknown, from dribbly percussion to muted feedback and inexplicable nonsense. The vocals base these songs in some form of reality, even if they frequentlu sound like a drunk person confusedly trying to get into your apartment at 3:00 am. Great stuff!
Mark Pritchard Untitled 12″ (MP)
Mark Pritchard is one of those pasty, bearded white dudes making The Wire-approved techno, the sort of music where it just sounds like melted electronic chaos but it comes with a six-page academic explanation to back it up. Well, you know what, I love that sort of stuff! Decided to check out this low-key new 12″ from Mr. Pritchard, because why not, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t one of my recent favorites, a frequent go-to in the Yellow Green Red estate. It opens with “You Don’t Know Me”, a sly and subtle juke variation on the method Ricardo Villalobos applied to “Easy Lee”, which hangs in the air like an eventual three-point swish. “I’m Going To War” follows, and it reminds me of one of those early Nicolas Jaar R&B edits, just focusing on two seconds of the blues and rubbing it raw. Both “Wake Up” and “Givin’ Up” on the flip toy with the same basic template of “I’m Going To War”, dropping a hook-ready sample over stuttering footwork pads, party music for parties both myself and Pritchard could only dream of being invited to. He hits that sweet spot between frenetic and chilled-out, and while this was probably just a Monday morning studio exercise, I hope MP continues this concern.
Rakta Rakta 12″ (540)
When I heard that I missed some killer noisy goth-punk group outta Brazil last year, I smacked my forehead hard enough to leave a mark, a mark I deserved to wear with shame for at least the rest of the day. So it was certainly nice of 540 to come through with a fresh American pressing less than a year after its original release, so that I may finally bear witness to Rakta. At this point you can probably tell that I built this group up in my head pretty high without actually hearing them, so it might not be a surprise to find out that upon listening, I think they are cool but ultimately fall short of the greatness I had anticipated. To my ears, they remind me of Naked On The Vague (specifically their early-period songwriting acumen and their late-period instrumentation), rolling in on a cloud of reverb so thick it makes Lost Tribe cough. Maybe a touch of Trop Tard’s miserable hopelessness can be located within Rakta too, but the music never really touches a nerve, so much as it floats by on familiar songwriting tropes and an even more familiar aesthetic (bear witness to any five Sacred Bones records to get the feel I’m referring to). I still like Rakta, and I hope they put out more records, because I’ve already made my mind up to be blown away by them; they just haven’t done it yet.
Replica Beast EP 7″ (Prank)
Replica are on my short-list of hardcore bands I need to catch live – people talk of their shows with the awe and reverence of a Joel Osteen sermon, with lots of “best front-person in hardcore” statements bandied about, and I need to see that for myself. This new 7″ EP is my first time actually listening to them (not sure why I never ordered that flexi), and I dunno – this is good hardcore for sure, but I am not feeling particularly moved. It might be unfair to compare them to Permanent Ruin, but the songs on Beast aren’t as fast, unhinged or tight, and I feel like both bands are mining similar hardcore territory, somewhere between the post-Slap A Ham / 625 Productions fast-core scene and the jumpy hardcore thrash of Limp Wrist or Life’s Halt. Maybe I’ve just reached my limit for the NOFX drumbeat they use in their fast parts (see the opening of “Night Life” and “Becky’s Rite” for two examples) – I suppose it’s a variation of the d-beat, but the clean recording quality and song structures just makes me think of Fat Mike’s chain wallet; I can’t help it. Don’t get me wrong, they are a talented group and this is a good hardcore EP, but I was hoping to hear something that would scare Hoax and Vile Gash fans out of the pit through its sheer intensity, not a band that could fit as an opener for the next Kid Dynamite reunion.
See You In Hell Jed 12″ (SPHC)
Here’s the first of two artists to be reviewed this month whose band names inflict Christian morality judgment upon me, See You In Hell. This is a Czech hardcore group (is there a country not yet represented by the worldly SPHC label?), and they play a pretty straightforward form of hardcore thrash, not unlike Forward or Contrast Attitude, constantly pushing ahead with big gang vocals repeating the same phrase for many of the choruses. It’s certainly competent hardcore, but I’ve personally heard enough of this solid-yet-predictable style to last me for at least a couple years before I find myself actively seeking it out again. Were See You In Hell able to invigorate some aspect of the formula, either pushing the drums past human ability or subjecting the vocalist’s throat to a cheese grater, I might sit up in my chair and consider See You In Hell to be a hardcore contender, but for now they’re just a quality hardcore band that I never need to hear again.
Sete Star Sept / New York Against The Belzebu split 7″ (SPHC)
Ah, thank the kind folks at SPHC for keeping the Sete Star Sept coming. I love that it’s essentially tradition at this point for horrible tuneless noise-core garbage bands to release endless slews of split 7″s, CDs, tapes, LPs, etc., and Sete Star Sept are following in the footsteps that Seven Minutes Of Nausea and The Gerogerigegege left before them. Their side of this EP is exactly that, just endless unintelligible noise-grind, and it goes without saying that I love it. On the flip is a band that is called New York Against The Belzebu, just think about that for a second, and their side of the insert not only reveals that they are from Brazil but it also lists their deep discography of splits and CD-rs and whatever else. Bravo! Their music is less brutal, more like one of the less-inspiring blips to come off the first Bllleeeeaaauuurrrrgghhh! compilation, but still pretty delightful. Bad anime art is featured on both sides of the 7″ sleeve, further proving that when it comes to international noise-core pointlessness, there is simply no room for good taste.
Sokea Piste Valikasi LP (Peterwalkee)
Like I was saying, Peterwalkee remains America’s pipeline for modern Finnish hardcore, back with yet another Sokea Piste record, this being their second full-length from 2013, repressed for us Yankees. I consider myself a passive fan of Sokea Piste – I get their records to review, listen to them a bunch and enjoy it, but generally forget about them shortly thereafter. It’s not that they aren’t really good, it’s just that moody, spiraling post-punk hardcore isn’t what I reach for on a day-to-day basis. I mention this because I can’t recall if there is any big stylistic leap or songwriting shift from their earlier records – it sounds just as focused and downtrodden as before, chugging along with the exhaustion of old age but fueled with a fiery determination. Maybe I’m catching more Wire or S.Y.P.H. moments on Valikasi than before, or maybe they’ve always been there? Regardless, Sokea Piste are great, and I hope there is an audience out there more focused than myself who is lapping this stuff up.
Suffering Luna With The Astronaut King / Suffer The Storm split 12″ (King Of The Monsters)
Graffiti-tagging metalheads rejoice, this two-song split 12″ has all the sludgy doom-grind you can handle. I’ve only ever heard one Suffering Luna song before, off their Dystopia split, and I’ve doubled that number here (with assistance by “The Astronaut King”, whoever that may be). It’s pretty dope, if I may be so bold as to use that word, fusing slow-mosh Bongzilla riffs, Gasp-styled noise interludes and a heavy dose of Pessimiser-Theologian misery-metal throughout. I’ve tried to stop the habit, but I found myself lifting my left hand in air-guitar position more than once. Suffer The Storm are a good fit for this EP, as they sound incredibly similar. Sure, their vocals are more monstrous and their snare drum delivers more of a sharp ping, but this is essentially more demonic sludge akin to Corrupted or Noothgrush, at least until they click off the distortion pedals for a majestic metal dirge ala Khanate or Asunder (and yes, there are samples). If you’ve already got the limited versions of all your favorite Relapse and Nuclear War Now! records, might I point your attention over here? 95 on gold/white vinyl, 100 on white vinyl and 315 on black.
Tyrants Tyrants First EP 7″ (no label)
Straight outta Portland, OR, this is Tyrants’ third EP (editor’s correction: it is their first EP), and it’s pretty cool if you like no-wavey post-punk that emphasizes the punk aspect of the equation. I’d describe their sound as a somewhat straightforward mix of Arab On Radar and The Urinals, with single-stick drumming and a guitar that’s picking its nose while the bass chugs mightily along. These songs zip by quickly, and while the singer is blurting all sorts of vein-popping nonsense, these tracks shut down before he’s even broken a sweat. Maybe a touch of Charm City Suicides in the vocals, too, which naturally is a strong nod of approval from yours truly. For every bogus paint-by-numbers garage-punk band that has a variety of record labels clamoring to issue their tracks, there’s a band like Tyrants, happily self-releasing their own music (and even rubbing some weird greasy ink stamp on both the cover and center sticker) without a publicity schedule or media contacts (well, I guess besides Yellow Green Red and whoever else they sent one to). I don’t mind if these Tyrants stick around for a while!
Ultra Pulverize Toxic Vacation 12″ (no label)
Finally, here’s something: Ultra Pulverize, a self-described “Electronic Synth-Punk Rap” group outta Kentucky. They wear laser-tag suits, write songs about space vampires, and are clearly having the time of their lives being in this weird-ass band. And I guess it isn’t half-bad! I mean, it’s barely half-good, but these guys clearly are so wonderfully entertained by themselves that the rest doesn’t really matter. The music hits somewhere between the early demo material of both Nine Inch Nails and Skrillex, maybe even a touch of early Cold Cave too, but the vocals essentially ruin any sort of raw electro-industrial EBM vibe by sounding like “Weird” Al doing an Outkast impression. Try as he might, the rapper sounds like the normal nerdy white-guy he is, rather than transcending his mortal existence ala Riff Raff or Oderus Urungus. It’s a distracting vocal, for sure, but even with Ultra (that’s the rapper’s name) going full throttle, it’s still a fairly entertaining record, the sort of thing I truly hope is getting a daytime slot at The Gathering Of The Juggalos, in between The Egyptian Lover and Municipal Waste or whoever Violent J is booking these days.
Ulysses The Casual Mystic 12″ (The Bunker New York)
The Bunker has been the coolest spot for forward-thinking, unusual and utterly-banging dance music in New York for years now, and they’ve decided to get into the vinyl game earlier this year, releasing all sorts of cool stuff that I need to check out (I feel like it’s a safe assumption that the stuff this label is releasing is cool). The first one I yanked is Ulysses with The Casual Mystic, and it’s tight. The title track simmers ominously, with a tweaked acid line and Knight Rider syncopation flirting with each other across the room. It’s Mr. Raoul K-like in its subtle deviance, and a great way to start the night. “Throne Of Bubbles” kicks off the b-side, and it’s an effectively uplifting tech-house cut, reminiscent of Moonbeam and their transcendent methodology, although it never quite pushes through to a soul-stirring crescendo. “Nanook” sounds like the name of an underpopulated Star Wars planet, and the track provides a good soundtrack for such, little technoid animals scurrying into dark crevices when your Asteroid Jumper lowers onto the planet’s thorny surface. It twists and turns, but never erupts into something for the dance-floor – this is a track you inhabit for a few minutes, admire its textures and colors and quietly escape. It all results in a nice, diverse EP that has me curious about the dozens of other records Ulysses has released over the last decade. But wait, there’s a Voices From The Lake 12″ out on The Bunker New York, too? I gotta get on that first…
Violent Change A Celebration Of Taste LP (Melters)
Probably the poppiest band with Minor Threat lyrics for a name, Violent Change are back with a second album, even as rumors of their demise swirl about. I can’t remember what I thought about the first Violent Change album besides being delightfully confused by it, and that feeling is intensified with A Celebration Of Taste – their Hairdryer Peace, perhaps? It feels like I’m watching someone flip through fictional college radio stations, from the Sebadoh-obsessed loner to the buttoned-up garage rocker that comes in at midnight and then later, the guy who named his program after a Television Personalities song. Songs seem to begin and end at random, sometimes sputtering out of gas, other times abruptly cut short as the tape runs out, and they don’t seem to use the same distortion pedals or production effects twice, which makes for a consistently varied record. It’s almost kind of frustrating, when there’s a great tune you want more than 90 seconds of, but there you go: “Violent Change” indeed.
York Factory Complaint Lost In The Spectacle LP (Accidental Guest)
York Factory Complaint’s had a lot of different members and guests over the years, but the core is Michael Berdan and Ryan Martin, two of the nicest folks in noise. I swear, if there’s someone out that there dislikes or is disliked by both of them, that person has some serious issues to deal with, but let’s not turn this into a celebration of their upstanding characters so much as a celebration of the sound within. I had never actually heard York Factory Complaint before, and I was expecting big modular drones with spliced electronic sound effects, like Maurizio Bianchi collaged with Tod Dockstader, and while they might have sounded like that at one point, Lost In The Spectacle is actually a pretty focused and heavy power-electronics record. It starts off on a rust-colored cloud of drone and static, but before long York Factory Complaint are laying down heavy industrial slabs with violently distorted vocals, not far from Con Dom or Grey Wolves, or like-minded contemporary artists like Puce Mary or Cremation Lily. As I listen, I get the feeling that these six tracks were culled from a much larger reservoir, like their recording session (under the talented hand of Kris Lapke) yielded three hours and they picked the best thirty minutes, because there isn’t a wasted moment or improvisational cul-de-sac here. It flows like a story, but each track stands on their own as well – I’m most partial to the churning ragers, and there’s plenty of that here. I think it’s also my favorite vocal performance from Berdan, across any of his many bands, so that’s nice too. Strong work, guys!
You’ll Never Get To Heaven Adorn 12″ (Psychic Handshake)
First of all, I don’t like band names that try to pick a fight with me. How do you know the extent of my sins, tough-guy? Anyway, with a name like that I was expecting some sort of instrumental Godflesh or Neurosis-worship band, and was surprised when soft-core ’80s synth-wave romanticism kicked it off, like steam from a New York subway grate as Charles Bronson walks past, searching for his daughter’s kidnapper. Once the cooing vocals come in, it takes on more of a Tri Angle / Not Not Fun scope, but You’ll Never Get To Heaven are still indebted to the emotional turbulence of the ’80s, very much a “brokenhearted teenager suffering of loneliness through the Cold War” vibe. Kinda sounds like if Grimes never got into Tumblr, instead opting to write pages of diaries that eventually got thrown out after she left college. Not sure if you can tell from all that I’ve said here, but I actually enjoy Adorn quite a bit, as the sounds the band uses are all pretty affecting, from the harmonic picking of the guitar to the rain-droplet keyboard sound and fading house-strings. If the Lifetime network is reading this, they may want to enlist You’ll Never Get To Heaven to turn their next original movie about a daughter’s courage to run away from home in search of her biological parents into something truly magical.
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