COALESCE Ox (Relapse) cd 15.98
Who would have thought we'd ever see a new Coalesce album, ever again? After a spate of unbelievable records, and a fairly acrimonious breakup, we figured we'd have to make do with Give Them Rope and Revolution In Just Listening and Functioning on Impatience, which hell, is the sort of 'making do' most bands would kill to be able to offer their faithful. But this new Coalesce pretty much picks up right where the last one left off, after a 10 year break, the sound is immediately recognizable, churning chugging super complex mathy post hardcore metal fury, stop start arrangements, lurching mosh worthy blowouts, the guitars massive, the drumming relentless, and the vocals, how can Sean Ingram still sound like this ten years later? Actually how can he even speak after a decade of vitriolic bellowing. But for all that stayed the same, a lot has changed in the decade since Revolution. On "The Comedian In Question", the band break down into a sort of droned out lope, and the vocals slip into some clear crooning, the sound is definitely sort of Alice In Chains, but on Coalesce it sounds so good. Great in fact.
Then there's the beginning of "Wild Ox Moan", a total lo-fi distorted blues jam, again with clean vox, the guitar clangy and clean, some slippery slide slipped in as well, before the band erupts into another furious pounding anvil to the skull. Long stretches of reverbed nylon string guitar butt up against some of the heaviest punishment these guys have ever doled out, which is saying something considering they're old enough to be the parents of most of the kids in the crowd (not counting us old guys), cool angular Drive Like Jehu high end guitar melodies wind around bizarre vocals and spill over into a weirdly groovy churn that sounds as much like Pantera as it does Coalesce, some stripped down jazzy moodiness, and at least one track that is so awesomely off kilter and slippery and dizzy, the whirling woozy guitars constantly causing the listener's head to spin, and while all the weird shit sticks out the most, it's really not the most prevalent stuff going on here, although the weirdness does seep into most of the more classic Coalesce sounding riffage, even so, the majority of this record IS in fact classic sounding Coalesce, just a bit more twisted, still heavy as fuck, and still weirdly catchy, maybe more so then ever, the weird stuff only makes it cooler and more fun.
Killer packaging too, beautiful silver and black-on-black digipak, with one of the most elaborate die cut booklets we've ever seen.
MPEG Stream: "The Plot Against My Love"
MPEG Stream: "The Comedian In Question"
MPEG Stream: "Wild Ox Moan"
MPEG Stream: "Designed To Break A Man"

GNAW THEIR TONGUES Die Mutter Wahlt Das Todtenkleidchen (Universal Consciousness) cd 11.98
Two long out of print cd-r's from our favorite symphonic black doom noize combo, gets the ultra deluxe reissue treatment. Both Die Mutter Wahlt Das Todtenkleidchen, originally released on Corps-Morts (the first thing we ever heard from GTT), and Dawn Breaks Open Like A Wound That Bleeds Afresh originally released on Universal Tongue, are both represented here in full, and on top of that, there are THREE unreleased bonus tracks, so even folks who have those original cds will probably want this, not just for the bonus tracks (although that might be enough), but to have those two out of print cd-r's on a proper cd!! Gorgeous packaging too, super striking 6 panel digipak, comes with a GTT sticker too.
Not sure how we first heard about Gnaw Their Tongues, pretty sure a customer recommended them, but believe us when we say that the words Gnaw Their Tongues had barely left their lips (or maybe more accurately, the words had barely left the email and reached our cerebral cortex) and we were already smitten. How could they not rule with a name like that? The question was merely HOW they would rule, dark and creepy? Heavy and harsh? Doom? Blacknoise? Drone? Howabout all of those?! Oh yeah, it's almost like someone snuck into the AQ barracks in the middle of the night to scan our minds and see what kind of bands we dreamed about, the bands our subconscious really wished existed. 
They took all the data back to their lair, the one hidden beneath that big scary mountain, and spent years analyzing it, and creating equations, chemicals, compounds, months in an underground lab, until eventually the whole project was forgotten. 
Until years later, when a record store employee was hiking and discovered the ruins of some old, well, it looked like a fortress, maybe a lair, and decided, against all the wisdom gleaned from a million after school specials, to explore. Way down deep in the dusty recesses of this old forgotten lair, this record store feller discovered some sort of portal, rusted shut it seemed, and adorned with messages in some strange language, an alien tongue if you will, they looked like warnings, but what the heck, shit like that only happens in horror movies, so the feller went about trying to unlock the portal, and after what seemed like ages, the lock clicked, and the rusty metal swung open, and suddenly all was blackness, and dripping red, and agony and misery, and hell embodied on earth, in the form of this filthy black musick. 
That filthy black musick was in fact these two musical documents by these mysterious black beasties known as Gnaw Their Tongues. Who on Die Mutter Wahlt Das Todtenkleidchen, spew forth a caustic noxious ultradoom. A black metallized lurch and stumble, harsh, hellish vocals buried beneath an avalanche of corrosive guitar, strange alien ambience, and mechanical monster drumming. Horrible and grotesque and dizzyingly brutal, but with tiny vestiges of beauty and melody, occasionally visible through the dense black sonic fog. Stretches of distorted doom verging on the beautiful, separating gut wrenching squalls of utter black chaos. And that's just the first track. 
The second is like the first, only fast. Really fast. Like sticking your head into the middle of a lightning storm. Like Velvet Caccoon and Wold and AmacomA all playing simultaneously, at full volume, broadcast through Konono's PA, until your ears bleed, but it's not all pain and suffering, this  whirling world of sound is again strangely melodic, twisted into some almost pop like shapes, but always quickly bathed in blackness and sent spinning back into the fray. 
"29 Needles" is a step away from the end, and is some sort of industrial plod, a garish landscape of bleak brutality, sparse ultradistorted percussion, clouds of caustic whir, creepy ghostlike voices, the sort of sounds that make Wolf Eyes sound like the Carpenters. A musical death march through a world of fire and death and destruction, of keening musical misery and downtuned sonic punishment. 
Finally, the prophecy is complete with once the sounds of "Die Mutter Wahlt Das Todtenkleidchen" reach the ears of mortal man. The plants wither and the sky grows dim, our hearts beat slower and our blood begins to boil, the earth begins to crack, and slowly we sink into the depths of the underworld, and this is the sound that the end of all things makes. A lonely slowed down low end caterwaul, a rumbling whir peppered with jagged streaks of harsh noise, thick swells of coruscating sonic malevolence, storm clouds of hiss and buzz, a pounding skull splitting din from the heavens, an electrical storm that singes every nerve in your body, leaving you paralyzed, supine, blind, and mute, with only your ears ringing painfully, just barely able to make out the dying gasps of life as we know it.
Then came Dawn Breaks Open Like A Wound That Bleeds Afresh. We almost missed out on it completely. The original version limited to 100 copies or so, we tried to order 40 and were informed they only had a handful left. So we begged and pleaded, and the label agreed to press up 40 more copies just for us, and thus for you. But those were gone before we knew it. Which is why this reissue is such a godsend (satansend?) Since we first discovered this band we had become pretty obsessed. As have the aQ blacknoize minions, judging from how quick we sell out of Gnaw records. They're heavy, they're super fucked up, it's not just black metal or sludge, it's some head spinning hybrid equal parts abstract industrial, ambient collageblasting blackness, hyperspeed grind, blackdrone, harsh and hellish, but strangely musical.
Dawn Breaks Open Like A Wound That Bleeds Afresh finds GTT at their most black metal. The first two tracks, while laced with bits of orchestral grandeur, and blown out crumbling bliss, spend most of their time blasting away, but even then, there are bits of melodic flair here and there, the distortion is so thick and intense, the whole thing threatens to blur into some thick whirring drone, the opener has a killer breakdown groove, utterly majestic and epic, before flitting back to the black blast. The second track is another blackened monster, furiously thrashing and convulsing wildly, but it too is peppered with bits of glimmering effulgence, and a middle breakdown where distorted guitars are pitched up and allowed to shimmer ominously like some Bernard Hermann score, before the metal drops back in, transforming the track into a pummeling slow motion Godflesh style industrial dirge that eventually launches itself back into a furious burst of grim brutality.
The final track is the creepiest of the bunch, long drawn out synth drones, wavering ominously, wrapped in bis of whir and metallic buzz, samples distorted and effected drifting amidst the swirling black ambience, the moodiness eventually overtaken by a thick wave of white noise distortion and what sounds like voices screaming in terror, finally splintering into a hellish black frenzy.
As mentioned in the introduction to this review, in addition to the reissued tracks, this version of Die Mutter also includes three new, unreleased tracks. The first is a gorgeous post industrial orchestral crawl, heaving horns, crunching metallic percussion, guttural vocalizations, blasting beats, exotic strings, long stretches of haunting cinematic ambience, heavy and harrowing, the production fucked up and fractured, the sound woozy and wonderfully grim. The second is more of the same, a lumbering death march painted in broad swaths of majestic strings, buzz drenched guitars, all wrapped around a super spare machinelike pound, fuzzed out Goblin like synths, like a Bernard Hermann score gone haywire. And finally, the awesomely titled closer "I Am The Lord And There Is No Other; I Make The Light, I Create Darkness" (GTT definitely have a way with song and album titles), a slow burning bit of black ambient drift, distant drones, creepy keyboard shimmers, dark layered waves of low end rumble, epic swells of soundtracky creepiness, while all throughout, the track drifts through sprawling fields of mysterious creaks and groans, clatter and crunch. Occasional squalls of orchestral percussion tangle with blurred bits of otherworldly whir, all streaked with sweetly sorrowful strings. So good.
If you're new to Gnaw Their Tongues, and you're into sounds blackened and brutal and bizarre and fucked up and noisy and creepy and epic, then you couldn't find a better place to start than this, and yeah, GTT fanatics, you're definitely gonna want this, even if you have the cd-r's, as we mentioned above, this is some of the best GTT material, finally on a proper cd, but even more importantly, this would be well worth $12 even if it was just a 20 minute / 3 song ep containing only the bonus tracks.
MPEG Stream: "Leichenbergen"
MPEG Stream: "And The Waters Shall Prevail Upon The Earth"
MPEG Stream: "Blood Drenched Altars"
MPEG Stream: "Knife... Martyr... Despair"

BROKENCYDE I'm Not A Fan But The Kids Like It (Break Silence Recordings) cd 14.98
By now you've no doubt heard these guys. Or at the very least, you've probably been sent the video for their song "Freaxxx" by a friend (or enemy). It's been viewed on YouTube about eight hundred gazillion times. And at least a gazillion of those times was US!
If we were really honest with ourselves, and based our love of a band entirely on these criteria: how many times have we listened to a specific song by this band, how many times have we watched a video by this band, how many hundreds of people have we sent a video by this band to, and how much time have we spent talking about this band, be it positive or negative? Well in that case these retarded Crunk-core goofs would be our favorite band EVER.
Ever since we first discovered these guys on YouTube, we, as well as many of our friends have been totally obsessed. A bunch of slacker girl jean spikey hair indie dorks playing a totally fucked up and dipshitty hybrid of Southern style crunk with all its low slung hip hop beats and buzzy synths, and screamo... the emo offshoot that involved, well, as far as these guys are concerned, lots and lots of screaming. So if you can imagine some white indie rockers rapping about Bentleys and Cristal and bitches and ho's while one of the guys screams dramatically every few seconds, while the band pout and preen, with a bunch of slutty looking indie chicks and a huge pink pig, well, you're either totally disgusted, totally mesmerized, or most likely BOTH.
It's like a trainwreck, both audial and visual, but at the same time, we CAN'T STOP WATCHING. Plenty of our friends have expressed a similar dilemma, an utter and extreme hatred for these guys, but the seeming inability to stop listening to it, watching the videos, or even buying their records. Yeah it's stupid, puerile, dumb as fuck, and a waste of brain cells and airwaves, but in some weird way, it's kind of clever, definitely fun, and to be totally honest, some of the sounds and songs do sorta rule. "Freaxxx" is the obvious jam, watch the video here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8F5YSA1Oz0
You just can't look away. And it's a little bit catchy. What the fuck?! We've dug way stupider and way more annoying stuff than this in the past, so why not just embrace it. Both Allan and Andee ordered their old ep, which also features the other jam "Bree Bree", the chorus of which is a screamed 'Breeeee Breee' meant to sound like an oinking pig. We shit you not.
So there you go, you can't fight it. You might as well buy it, you may not listen to it on your own, but we guarantee you'll play it for everyone you know. The ultimate "you WILL not believe this shit" disc. Which means in some insanely backhanded way, this is indeed recommended.
MPEG Stream: "Freaxxx"
MPEG Stream: "Booty Call"

CLUBROOT s/t (LoDubs) cd 14.98
One of two discs vying for our personal dubstep disc of the year. The other is the recent Mordant Music disc, which we'll try to review next time, an unlikely collaboration between Mordant and the Skull Disco crew, and this, the first full length from mysterious atmospheric dubstep soundscaper Clubroot.
We know nothing about this guy (or these guys?), other than he takes that dubbed out skitter we love so much and sets it in expansive fields of swirling ambience, creeped out dronescapes and all manner of super evocative and gorgeously textural soundworlds. Where as most dubstep is super spare and stripped down, skeletal even, the sound here is lush and sprawling. Thick layers of synths whir and shimmer and buzz, deep swells throbbing and pulsing, everything hazy and gauzy and washed out, every song some sort of otherworldy dreamscape, shot through with some super bad ass bit of pounding churning dubstep stutter. The massive basslines and fluctuating synth buzz that usually adds texture to typical dubstep, here just becomes another element in Clubroot's mysterious mist shrouded sonic landscape.
The cover features a lonely tree, set atop a rocky outcropping, the sky dense with clouds, the picture all misty and hauntingly lonely seeming, which perfectly reflects the mood of the music here. Strip away the beats, and you'd still be left with an incredible bit of blackened new age swirl, of abstract kosmiche krautdrone, but add the beats, and these sounds become something entirely other. This is definitely not dancemusic, this is mind expansion music. Late night, lights off, starting at the stars drifting off, other dimension, spaced out, dream dub music.
Clubroot taps into the same darkside as Burial, and Kode9, and the more atmospheric beatmakers, but where those guys pull back before the fog grows to thick, Clubroot pushes forward, traveling through the dark forest, into some forbidden zone, some land lost in time, lost from time, a massive emptiness, as beautiful as it is lonely and ominous, and this is the soundtrack to that lost world. So intense and haunting and unlike any other dubstep, or electronic music even, that we've heard before. The rare sort of record that lets even the most jaded and heard-it-all listener get totally, and fantastically lost.
And if you need more than our effusive gushing praise, look no further than Fenriz, 1/2 of legendary black metal duo Darkthrone, a long time lover of techno and electronic music, who has this to say about Clubroot:
"This is the sort of soaring dubstep I'd never expect to come out of the US! I just transferred the adorable "Embryo" track to my MP3 player FAVES 09 list, as I am going tenting and swimming in a forest lake tomorrow with some connoiceur-friends [sic]. It's sleek and not nasty, the melodic kind and not the grimy. But wait a minute, it seems like the newest tracks are on first, as the last songs drift into some de-tranced balearic style, even with vocals stabs and 90s synths! Blimey."
And if you can't trust Fenriz on matters of dubstep, then who can you trust? WAY recommended. And quite possibly dubstep record of the year!
MPEG Stream: "Low Pressure Zone"
MPEG Stream: "Embryo"
MPEG Stream: "High Strung"
MPEG Stream: "Dulcet"

DRIVE LIKE JEHU Yank Crime (Swami) cd 13.98
AT LONG LAST, AGAIN BACK IN PRINT!! Here's what we said seven years ago when Swami first reissued this (and we made it a Record Of The Week):
Sometimes it's hard to believe that certain records just go out of print. I mean who would let the Conet Project go out of print, or Souled American, or the Incredible String Band. It's even weirder when the record is not old or obscure. Then it's usually some bureaucratic red tape or major label bullshit that keeps people from hearing some great record. Such is the case with the second, ultimate release from San Diego's Drive Like Jehu, originally released on Interscope in 1994. A record Allan and Andee and Jim and Sadie and Windy and quite possibly the rest of the AQ staff would rank as one of the best rock records ever! Easily as good/important as Slint's Spiderland. For those who don't know, Drive Like Jehu was fronted by John Reis of Rocket From The Crypt (who has now reissued Yank Crime on his own Swami label) and featured vocalist Rick Farr (his rock name, he's also known as Eric Froberg) who later went on with Reis to play in the Hot Snakes. Drive Like Jehu also just happened to have one of the tightest rhythm sections EVER. E V E R! Yank Crime is a tightly wound record of 'post rock' (before post rock meant watered down instrumental indie rock bullshit) with head nodding, repetitive grooves, propulsive, ultra concise drumming, and some of the most inventive guitar playing we've ever heard. All topped off with Farr's distinctive high pitched vocals (familiar to all you folks who dig the Hot Snakes). The songs are looooong and hypnotic but never boring. The band locks into totally intense, static grooves, that can go on for minutes before exploding into mayhemic bursts of controlled fury. So goddamn good. Anyone who likes the Hot Snakes MUST own this record. Drive Like Jehu is like a hyper charged, heavier, more intense and complex, MUCH BETTER Hot Snakes. Anyone who likes Feuhler or Don Cab or Slint or Engine Kid or almost any post rock will discover what all those other comers had been shooting for. This is IT. Trust us. An automatic AQ "record of the week" selection as soon as we heard it was finally being re-released - with three bonus tracks to boot! ("Bullet Train To Vegas" and "Hand Over Fist" from their Merge label 7", and the original version of "Sinews" from a Cargo/Headhunter compilation.) So even if you have the original you might want to get this reissue for those.
MPEG Stream: "Do You Compute"
MPEG Stream: "Sinews"

LEVIATHAN / ACHERONTAS Sic Luceat Lux (Zyklon-B Productions) cd 21.00
Seems like rumors regarding the end of Leviathan were greatly exaggerated. Not only is Leviathan still a going concern, but then out of nowhere pops this brand new, bad ass split, with a Greek band called Achernotas, who we knew by name but had never heard until now.
Needless to say, most aQ metalheads won't need much more prodding than the words "new Leviathan record", then there's the fact that the cd AND vinyl version of this split are both insanely limited, which means once we sell out of these, odds are we won't be able to get more, which is a huge bummer, because not only are the Leviathan tracks awesome (obviously), but we're pretty psyched on Acherontas as well.
The Leviathan tracks sound like maybe they're a bit older, perhaps before the shift from electronic drums to acoustic drums, the sound is murky, but still gnarled and chaotic and dense, the arrangements furious and frenzied, the drumming insane, and that unmistakable demonic croak. Lots of glitch and buzz, tangled atonal melodies, a heaving wall of blackened chaos, but it is Leviathan, so there's plenty of dark brooding ambience, some classic metal sounding chug, some spaced out almost doomy sounding blackness, the sound here falls somewhere right between classic Leviathan and the more twisted sonic soundscapes of Lurker Of Chalice.
The Acherontas tracks start off with haunting reverb drenched piano, creating a creepy otherworldly vibe, before the band launches into some super grim sounding black pound, the drums simple but intense, the guitars super distorted, the riffs woozy and minor key, the sound slipping easily from loping Burzumic plod, to proggy almost folky swirl, with clean guitars and strangely complex drumming, smothered in ethereal effects, the vocals especially harsh, dripping with demonic intensity, then suddenly transforming into deep haunting croon, the guitars following suit, growing more and more melodic and lovely, still all wrapped in a haze of distorted buzz, eventually fading out in a blur of minor key miserablism. Really awesome stuff. Definitely need to hear more from these guys.
But for now, if you do want one of these, cd OR lp, act fast, these have been selling like crazy and we're down to about half of what we started with. The cds come in a nice digipak (although be warned, some of the edges are a little worn in shipping, nothing we can do about it, these are probably all we're gonna get), and the lp is a super striking pictured disc, that comes in a heavy sleeve with a printed 12" x 12" insert.
MPEG Stream: LEVIATHAN "Crusted, Blackened"
MPEG Stream: LEVIATHAN "To A Grotesque Of Swollen Flesh"
MPEG Stream: ACHERONTAS "Velvet Aurora"
MPEG Stream: ACHERONTAS "Kornugia"

VORDR s/t (Nykta) cd ep 9.99
The return of these Finnish freaks, and another awesome disc of blown out, ultra raw, ultra grim black metal buzz. Vordr may feature a member of aQ faves Circle Of Ouroborus, but as we mentioned in our review of the last Vordr, you won't find any stumbling folk, or abstract black ambience, or bizarre fractured WTF here, the domain of Vordr is reserved for tweeter destroying high end brittle lo-fi blast and pound, a swirling melee of chaotic skree drenched buzz, D-beat death pounding drums and sharp slivers of buzzing insectoid riffage, unfurling in long blurred streaks beneath anguished tortured wails and teeth gnashing demonic shrieks.
There is most definitely plenty of melody lurking below the surface, but those bits of melody are well protected, only the blackest of souls can withstand the constantly churning sea of fucked up sound that surrounds them, billious bursts of abject fury, in-the-red shards of buzz drenched rrroooaaar, festering gouts of sonic virulence, this is sick, ugly, gloriously noxious black grimnity, a series of musical ice picks to the inner ear, a tinnitus inducing swarm of beautiful blackness, which will most definitely warm the cold dead hearts of all who worship at the altars of Bone Awl, Ash Pool, Akitsa Vegas Martyrs and the like.
MPEG Stream: "Wild Of Glory"
MPEG Stream: "Legends In The Bark"
MPEG Stream: "Vitterlicht"

1349 Revelations Of The Black Flame + Works Of Fire Live (Deluxe) (Candlelight) 2lp 28.00
NOW ON VINYL!!!
A quick look online reveals a crazy amount of negative feedback and terrible reviews for this, the newest record from Norwegian black metal supergroup 1349. Most of that negativity stems from the fact that everyone seemed to be hoping for a Hellfire Part 2. Hellfire being their last record, a frenetic non stop blast of frenzied lightning speed berserk blackened buzz. Which is strange, because we were actually hoping for something different. Hellfire was SO fast, and SO relentless, so much so that in many places it just became a furious black blur, which is fine, and we do love that record, but where does a band go from there? Certainly not faster, but somehow, faster seemed to be what most folks expected. What we can tell you is no one expected THIS. Slower. Weirder. Even a Pink Floyd cover. Could this really be 1349? It is, and it's awesome. Dark and lurching doom-ed blackness, shades of Celtic Frost for sure (whose Tom G. Warrior did some production work here). So fuck the haters, we already have a Hellfire, this is something way more interesting and original.
The record opens with some anguished screams, which give way to a long drifting dronescape, deep rumbling dark ambience, thick and layered, caustic and ominous, before finally lurching into song, but not in a black blast, more of a chugging pound, a little bit of tangled blackness, and then woozy, midtempo meander, atonal chords, off kilter rhythms, lots of start and stop, the tempo sort of sea sick, the vibe still WAY sinister, but much more abstract and avant, and way doomier, and it suits them. At first it seemed like maybe drummer Frost was wasted here, but finally, he has the opportunity to do something other than blast maniacally.
The second track is more of the same, a lumbering doomy bit of avant blackness, with gnarled riffs, simple pounding percussion, the arrangement mathy and convoluted, sounding more like Thorns or Khold or Tulus, which is a very good thing.
The record does offer up some blasting black metal, but not a whole lot, as one disgruntled reviewer put it "there's like maybe 10 minutes of ACTUAL black metal on the whole record!", which is true, the majority of the record is still 'black', but much weirder, slower, atmospheric, with a few straight up ambient tracks, long snarling dronescapes, spaced out stretches of gauzy piano wrapped in streaks of feedback, and bits of glitchy buzz, drifty chunks of guitar flecked rumble and whir, all butted up against awesomely twisted bits of black doom weirdness.
One of the best tracks sounds like a Deathspell Omega jam slowed way down, "Uncreation" is all woozy and tangled and almost gothy at points, but with cool bursts of staccato almost industrial sounding chug, and those dense black riffs, pulled apart and wrapped around the pounding rhythms.
The record closes with the haunting "At The Gate..." which begins like some doomdrone record, all downtuned guitar drone, thickening and sprawling like some noxious black cloud, it eventually splinters into a song, but all that means is the wall of guitar buzz and grinding low end is peppered with occasional drum pound, distant guitar leads, and super creepy processed vocals, before eventually blissing out and drifting off.
And let's not forget the Pink Floyd cover. It's almost unrecognizable, but for THAT bass line, super fuzzy and distorted, drifting through swirling layers of effects, the vocals whispered and doused in delay, the drums a machinelike pound, the guitars unfurling all manner of strange sounds, drones and whirs and shrieks and buzzes, no proper riffs, it's the bass and drums that drive this track, the guitars left to fill in the surrounding space with all manner of blurred black ambience. Haunting and spaced out but still plenty black. WAY recommended.
MPEG Stream: "Invocation"
MPEG Stream: "Serpentine Sibilance"
MPEG Stream: "Uncreation"
MPEG Stream: "Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun"

LOCRIAN Visible / Invisible (Small Doses) 3"cd-r 4.98
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
Ultra crazy limited tour only 3"cd-r from these Chicago blackened dronelords, we tried to order a ton of these, but managed to get less than a dozen. Considering it was limited to 93 copies, and most of those went on tour with the band, these are most likely the last and only copies we'll ever get.
Which is a bummer cuz this is really great. Two tracks, both the same length, the second is the exact reverse of track one - which makes this a musical palindrome. Prettier than most of the other Locrian stuff, delicate and drifty, washed out and woozy, long fuzzy layered drones, a little bit space-y, very hypnotic and trancelike, the end of the first track (and thus the beginning of the second) builds to a buzzing blown out looped sounding coda, which then follows the reverse path through the length of the second track eventually settling back down into some soft sun dappled dronebliss, before finally fading out completely. Quite lovely, even the heavy parts are more pretty than heavy. Only 10 or so of these in stock. Be quick, or be without...
LIMITED TO 93 COPIES. Housed in a mini plastic sleeve, with a cool black on black fold out insert.
MPEG Stream: "Visible / Invisible"
MPEG Stream: "Invisible / Visible"

ENCOMIAST / THE COPPER THIEVES 139 Nevada : Masked Mirror / Slam Your Doors In Golden Silence (Lens) 2cd-r 15.98
Latest from Encomiast, a long time aQ fave, whose expansive mysterious dark drones have never failed to blow us away, but this is not just a new album, it's a sprawling double disc concept record split between two separate groups, and recorded in one of the most haunted buildings in Colorado. The story behind this record revolves around the Belvedere Theater in Central City, Colorado, a group of musicians repeatedly visited with the idea of capturing EVP (aka electromagnetic voice phenomena), where else but an extremely haunted old theater would one be able to capture the voices of the dead, but alas, no such sounds were discovered or captured, BUT, the musicians did manage to record, and those recordings were reworked into the two discs found here. The first is by Encomiast, the second is by a group called The Copper Thieves, which is Encomiast along with members of Mandible Chatter. Both discs conjure up the dark spirit of that theater, each in its own way.
The Encomiast disc is downright frightening, all creaking moaning low end, deep ominous rumbles, all manner of tiny sounds drifting up out of the inky blackness, cold and sinister, abstract and ephemeral, the sounds of the theater's busted up old grand piano, smeared into blurred atonal clouds of clustered notes, the overtones drifting like lost specters, voices moan and bellow, the natural room sound as much an instrument as anything else, these deep dark drones totally evoke the spirit of that haunted space, headphone required, to truly get lost, and submerge yourself in these seemingly bottomless sounds.
The Copper Thieves disc is not nearly as minimal, but just as ominous and haunting, the piano again plays a big part, but the notes are distorted and blurred into a massive warm wall of softly crumbling sound, which gives way to a strange haunted house of thumps and creaks and glitches and disembodied voices, groaning layers of low end thrum, soft filed of overtones overlap chiming bells, pounded notes on the piano drift up from below like monstrous growls, the disc finishing of with long tones, that seem to glow, warm and almost sun dappled, as if capturing shafts of light, drawing delicate lines on the dusty floor, and illuminating the snowflake like motes drifting in the still air.
Both discs are fantastic, darkly evocative, and gorgeously droney, for fans of Lustmord, Andrew Chalk, Jonathan Coleclough, Troum, Organum and other droning denizens of the dark...
LIMITED TO ONLY 200 COPIES, a double cd-r housed in a textured cardboard box, hand stamped on the outside with two printed inserts featuring liner notes and photos.
MPEG Stream: ENCOMIAST "Freed From Time Yet Vulnerable To Air"
MPEG Stream: ENCOMIAST "A Nervous Light"
MPEG Stream: THE COPPER THIEVES "Something Shines Through"
MPEG Stream: THE COPPER THIEVES "Slam Your Doors"

RUSTED SHUT Dead (Load) lp 15.98
What would you think if someone described a band to you, as sounding like a mix of Butthole Surfers, Black Flag, the Brainbombs and black metal? Want if they went on to describe the band's sound in more detail, and they came up with something like "thick oozing ultra distorted, totally chaotic, drone drenched, drugged out, noisy as fuck, weirdly hypnotic, punishing and pulverizing, scuzz drenched doomic plod"? Well your first thought, if you were anything like us, would be "could such a band actually exist?" It does sound too good to be true. Your next thought might be "well okay, if a band like that did exist, not only would they be scary as shit, they'd also probably be my favorite band EVER."
Thus we have Rusted Shut. Going on 20 years now, these Texan noisemakers have somehow only managed two proper records and a single or two, each one of those jammed to overflowing with the abovementioned thick oozing ultra distorted, totally chaotic, pulverizing scuzz drenched plod. When we reviewed their Hot Sex ep, we alluded to the fact that if said ep wasn't an ep, wasn't vinyl only, wasn't over a decade old, and wasn't WAY too fucked up for most normal ears, it would have not only been out Record Of The Week, but our Record Of The YEAR. Of our EVER! Well, it's as if whatever God enjoys inflicting sonic torture on his children heard our prayers and conjured up this festering bit of blackened noise punk brilliance from whatever pit these guys call home.
It's rare that a band 20+ years old makes a record on the tail end of 20 years even half as good as the record that started it all, but we're tempted to say, this just might be the heaviest, freakiest, most brutally brilliant thing we've heard from these guys so far. Which is indeed saying a whole hell of a lot.
The opener "Home", is 5 minutes of blown out punk-drone, the guitars unwinding in thick gnarled tangles, moaning and rumbling and howling, a dense undulating layered swell of roiling sonic filth, fragmented riffs, squiggly downtuned Greg Ginn-ish guitar scrabble, the drums skittery and abstract clouds of cymbal sizzle, bursts of free rock splatter, while over the top, some sort of harsh, whiskey soaked punk rock testifying, spouting all sorts of misanthropic misinformation, like a post punk noise rock gutter scum Whitehouse. The music grows more and more frantic, faster, more freaked out, the various streaks of sound coalescing into riffs, that blur into still more smears of sound, the song an exercise in droned out filth caked tension.
Then there's "Heart Of Hell", total old school punk rock, but filtered through a sort of washed out lo-fi Brainbombs dirginess, the main riff, total classic punk rock, but locked and looped, and played over and over and over and over, totally trancelike, the vocals just as sneeringly scowly as on the first track, but once they drop out, the song locks into a total droned out punked up krautrock groove, that sounds a bit like Circle covering the Brainbombs, albeit doused in crumbling distortion and blurred reverb and delay.
Then comes "Intellect", 15 minutes of total blown out garage dirge bliss, the sound so in the red, that every time a cymbal hits, it swallows up the rest of the sound, the vocals so loud it sounds like the singer grabbed you by the head and locked his lips around your ears, you can feel his hot hellish breath and the spray of spittle. But all the while the music underneath, grows more and more distorted and somehow more and more hypnotic, so damaged and fractured that it sounds like the song might crumble into pieces at any moment. But that's just the first few minutes. Soon the band switch gear and the bass EXPLODES, like suddenly while the band was playing, the bass player went out to his truck and got 3 or 4 more amps and just let fucking loose, low end overload, everything acid drenched and psychedelic, the sound of speakers frying, of headphones melting, the vocals garbled like speaking in tongues, the bass unleashing a sludgey doomy groove, the song an endless noise rock blown out druggy musical brawl that makes the Butthole Surfers at their fiercest sound practically tame.
This song more than anything here reminds us of our first live run in with these weirdos. At SXSW this year, they played an instore, everyone was waiting to see the Mayyors, but Rusted Shut were just destroying the place, super noisy and scuzzy and awesome, and they just NEVER STOPPED PLAYING. The homeless-looking singer/guitarist guy kept getting shocked by the mic, so eventually he simply walked outside, after leaning his guitar up against his amp... some punk dude in the audience then picked up the mic, and freestyled some "I hate SXSW" lyrics... when he was done and threw the mic down, it seemed like the drummer and bassist would wrap it up, but instead they kept on jamming... and jamming... and jammingŠ then the guitarist came back in after being outside for what felt like (and pretty much WAS) ages, picked up his guitar, and then it seemed like, OK, this must be the grande finale... but that was only the beginning!! They literally kept on playing for another half hour at least. After a while, most of the crowd had gone outside to wait for the Mayyors, driven away by the bands wall of harsh vibes and skull stomping crush, and someone even joked that they should shut the doors of the shop and lock Rusted Shut inside...
These guys are lifers, they're insane, a total mess, which is the only way a piece of glorious sonic filth like this could ever happen. This is not music made by nice guys slumming it, by punk rockers getting their hands dirty, no, this is the sound of old guys pissed and insane, hell bent on punishing the rest of the world, a furious plod and pound fueled by hate, and misery, and drugs. Lots and lots and LOTS of drugs. And that instore, for all of it's confusional chaos, is pretty much the exact same vibe captured here. That is what this band is all about. About relentless endless riffing, hypnotic crustpunk dirges, wild damaged Neanderthal noise rock. The sick sick energy of Rusted Shut is an anomaly. This is not music, this is the sound these guys conjure up from their dead souls and black hearts, a fucked up noise drenched hardcore psychedelic space sludge whathtefuck that's just about the greatest thing we've ever heard.
MPEG Stream: "Home"
MPEG Stream: "Heart Of Hell"
MPEG Stream: "Intellect"

SKULLFLOWER Malediction (Second Layer) cd 15.98
Matthew Bower's growing obsession with black metal has gradually infiltrated the blown out guitar skree of his earlier recordings and continues to push the sound of modern Skullflower into realms blacker and more grim and gristly than ever. Much like the recently reviewed (but sadly now out of print) Vile Veil lp, word on the street was that Malediction was to be the "Skullflower black metal" record, which it could very well be, but you have to realize that no matter how much Darkthrone or Pyha or Old Wainds or Arckanum Bower listens too, those sounds get filtered through that mysterious mind, eventually coming out via his guitar as a sound not terribly removed from something recognizably Skullflower, but with enough blackness, enough buzzing riffage, enough cello (here transformed into howling moans and caustic shards of scrape and skree) and enough chaotic drum splatter, courtesy of original Skullflower drummer Stuart Dennison, to make this more than just another Skullflower record, and more than just another guitarnoise record, it transforms this wild cacophony into some transcendent blacknoise hybrid, equal parts ur-drone and black buzz, psychedelic freakout and free-noise experiment, a pulsing, throbbing swirl of abstract heaviness and in-the-red speaker damaging crunch, a sound that slips fluidly from total abstract atom scatter to lurching almost riffy mesmer, remaining always wreathed in a thick, corrosive field of upper register sonic static, only the drums, ever really leaping from the fray, to hurl some thunderous beats before being quickly sucked back under.
Not sure if it was that brief foray into almost seventies sounding riffiness, back circa the records Exquisite Fucking Boredom and Orange Canyon Mind, but ever since then, Bower and company have been making noise with a vengeance, the sound of Skullflower and fierce and fucked up and heavy and noisy as it's ever been, Bower's black metal interests only adding to the bands hellish sonic trajectory. That's not all to say black metallers would dig this, cuz odds are, only the most extreme music obsessives among the black legions would find this particular brand of psych-skree to their liking, but heck, those of you who do fit that profile, go for it, immerse yourself, and discover just what it is about Skullflower, just what sort of black ritualistic magic lurks within the caustic black sonic sun that is Malediction.
Noiseniks will no doubt flip their lids, appropriately so, but there's so much more to this 'noise', what seems like a wall of sound, crumbles into pieces revealing so much texture within, every heaving wave of punishing crunch, gradually parts revealing a delicate network of strange melodies, the sounds while on the surface seem easily defined, are in fact more complex then they might appear, guitars and drums and voices and cellos all careening chaotically into a roiling churning black sea, a bottomless sonic expanse that takes metal and sludge and doom and noise and punk rock and minimal drone music and melts it down, shaping it into something new and mysterious, a baffling, deafening sound that defies any sort of classification, as the title of an old SF record so boldly proclaimed. This is Skullflower. And THIS, is Skullflower NOW.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES. Packaged in a six panel full color digipak with cool tripped out watercolor artwork by Bower himself.
MPEG Stream: "A'arab Zaraq ~ Ravens Of The Burning Of God"
MPEG Stream: "Drenched In Moonsblood (Waxing Gibbous)"

LOOP A Gilded Eternity (Reactor) 2cd 16.98
The final two installments in the long overdue comprehensive Loop reissue campaign are finally here. World In Your Eyes, the newly expanded 12" collection, reviewed elsewhere on this week's list, and this right here, the final proper Loop album, A Gilded Eternity.
Contemporaries of legendary drug rockers Spacemen 3, Loop took the same sonic influences but rocked a little harder, opting out of the extended soporific drifts the defined the Spacemen, (although they were perfectly capable of blissing out with the best of them) and instead creating looped, krautrock spacejams, that were downright heavy, as well as being space-y, druggy and surprisingly catchy. Guitars were fuzzed out, vocals way down in the mix, reverb and delay EVERYWHERE, riffs often processed into stuttering textures and looped rhythms, the drums alternatingly motorik and skeletal, and pounding and explosive, all wreathed in a glorious otherworldly haze.
A Gilded Eternity, their final record, originally released in 1990, might just be their heaviest and most rocking yet, definitely their tightest, album opener "Vapour" has one of those riffs TO DIE FOR, the main melody is so completely catchy, the song a woozy, repetitive chunk of gloriously propulsive dronerock, less space-y than much of what came before, but definitely more rocking and relentless. the next track "Afterglow" pushes that new heaviness even further, sounding not unlike Swervedriver, big crunchy distorted guitars, pounding tribal drumming, the arrangement a lurching start stop, that slips into cool washed out breakdowns, before exploding right back into the stuttery groove. And so it goes, the band unfurling their masterwork, in a career of masterful works, "Blood" is total abstract minimal krautrock, the guitars stripped away, leaving just a super spare drum part, wrapped all up in processed vocals and swirling effects, another jam that easily could have gone on for 10 more minutes. But then just like that, the band slip back into "Breath Into Me", whipping up another killer riff, the track a looped space garage groove that rivals record opener "Vapour". The record proper ends with the nearly 10 minute "Be Here Now", the Loop version of a slow jam, beginning with some strange processed guitar, the band ease into a languorous groove that drifts druggily through soft focus clouds of lysergic buzz, brief squalls of wild wah guitar, but remaining locked and looped, the weary vocals drifting above the warm endless buzz.
A Guilded Eternity comes with a bonus disc as well, perhaps the least critical of the bonus material, considering it contains 5 demo tracks and 3 Peel Sessions, BUT, it also includes the Loop track "Shot With A Diamond", which happens to be Jim's favorite Loop track alongside "Arc-Light." This track provides the perfect sonic segue between Loop and the sounds guitarist Robert Hampson would later explore with his post Loop solo project Main, an ominous bit of electronic sample laced dronemusic, creepy and haunting and so fucking awesome. Previously only available as a 7" single, and as a bonus track on the original cassette version. Essential!
In fact, all four of these Loop reissues are absolutely required listening for anyone with even the mildest interest in sounds space-y, druggy, metallic and psychedelic!!!
MPEG Stream: "Vapour"
MPEG Stream: "Afterglow"
MPEG Stream: "Be Here Now"
MPEG Stream: "Shot With A Diamond"

RUSTED SHUT Dead (Load) cd 15.98
What would you think if someone described a band to you, as sounding like a mix of Butthole Surfers, Black Flag, the Brainbombs and black metal? Want if they went on to describe the band's sound in more detail, and they came up with something like "thick oozing ultra distorted, totally chaotic, drone drenched, drugged out, noisy as fuck, weirdly hypnotic, punishing and pulverizing, scuzz drenched doomic plod"? Well your first thought, if you were anything like us, would be "could such a band actually exist?" It does sound too good to be true. Your next thought might be "well okay, if a band like that did exist, not only would they be scary as shit, they'd also probably be my favorite band EVER."
Thus we have Rusted Shut. Going on 20 years now, these Texan noisemakers have somehow only managed two proper records and a single or two, each one of those jammed to overflowing with the abovementioned thick oozing ultra distorted, totally chaotic, pulverizing scuzz drenched plod. When we reviewed their Hot Sex ep, we alluded to the fact that if said ep wasn't an ep, wasn't vinyl only, wasn't over a decade old, and wasn't WAY too fucked up for most normal ears, it would have not only been out Record Of The Week, but our Record Of The YEAR. Of our EVER! Well, it's as if whatever God enjoys inflicting sonic torture on his children heard our prayers and conjured up this festering bit of blackened noise punk brilliance from whatever pit these guys call home.
It's rare that a band 20+ years old makes a record on the tail end of 20 years even half as good as the record that started it all, but we're tempted to say, this just might be the heaviest, freakiest, most brutally brilliant thing we've heard from these guys so far. Which is indeed saying a whole hell of a lot.
The opener "Home", is 5 minutes of blown out punk-drone, the guitars unwinding in thick gnarled tangles, moaning and rumbling and howling, a dense undulating layered swell of roiling sonic filth, fragmented riffs, squiggly downtuned Greg Ginn-ish guitar scrabble, the drums skittery and abstract clouds of cymbal sizzle, bursts of free rock splatter, while over the top, some sort of harsh, whiskey soaked punk rock testifying, spouting all sorts of misanthropic misinformation, like a post punk noise rock gutter scum Whitehouse. The music grows more and more frantic, faster, more freaked out, the various streaks of sound coalescing into riffs, that blur into still more smears of sound, the song an exercise in droned out filth caked tension.
Then there's "Heart Of Hell", total old school punk rock, but filtered through a sort of washed out lo-fi Brainbombs dirginess, the main riff, total classic punk rock, but locked and looped, and played over and over and over and over, totally trancelike, the vocals just as sneeringly scowly as on the first track, but once they drop out, the song locks into a total droned out punked up krautrock groove, that sounds a bit like Circle covering the Brainbombs, albeit doused in crumbling distortion and blurred reverb and delay.
Then comes "Intellect", 15 minutes of total blown out garage dirge bliss, the sound so in the red, that every time a cymbal hits, it swallows up the rest of the sound, the vocals so loud it sounds like the singer grabbed you by the head and locked his lips around your ears, you can feel his hot hellish breath and the spray of spittle. But all the while the music underneath, grows more and more distorted and somehow more and more hypnotic, so damaged and fractured that it sounds like the song might crumble into pieces at any moment. But that's just the first few minutes. Soon the band switch gear and the bass EXPLODES, like suddenly while the band was playing, the bass player went out to his truck and got 3 or 4 more amps and just let fucking loose, low end overload, everything acid drenched and psychedelic, the sound of speakers frying, of headphones melting, the vocals garbled like speaking in tongues, the bass unleashing a sludgey doomy groove, the song an endless noise rock blown out druggy musical brawl that makes the Butthole Surfers at their fiercest sound practically tame.
This song more than anything here reminds us of our first live run in with these weirdos. At SXSW this year, they played an instore, everyone was waiting to see the Mayyors, but Rusted Shut were just destroying the place, super noisy and scuzzy and awesome, and they just NEVER STOPPED PLAYING. The homeless-looking singer/guitarist guy kept getting shocked by the mic, so eventually he simply walked outside, after leaning his guitar up against his amp... some punk dude in the audience then picked up the mic, and freestyled some "I hate SXSW" lyrics... when he was done and threw the mic down, it seemed like the drummer and bassist would wrap it up, but instead they kept on jamming... and jamming... and jammingŠ then the guitarist came back in after being outside for what felt like (and pretty much WAS) ages, picked up his guitar, and then it seemed like, OK, this must be the grande finale... but that was only the beginning!! They literally kept on playing for another half hour at least. After a while, most of the crowd had gone outside to wait for the Mayyors, driven away by the bands wall of harsh vibes and skull stomping crush, and someone even joked that they should shut the doors of the shop and lock Rusted Shut inside...
These guys are lifers, they're insane, a total mess, which is the only way a piece of glorious sonic filth like this could ever happen. This is not music made by nice guys slumming it, by punk rockers getting their hands dirty, no, this is the sound of old guys pissed and insane, hell bent on punishing the rest of the world, a furious plod and pound fueled by hate, and misery, and drugs. Lots and lots and LOTS of drugs. And that instore, for all of it's confusional chaos, is pretty much the exact same vibe captured here. That is what this band is all about. About relentless endless riffing, hypnotic crustpunk dirges, wild damaged Neanderthal noise rock. The sick sick energy of Rusted Shut is an anomaly. This is not music, this is the sound these guys conjure up from their dead souls and black hearts, a fucked up noise drenched hardcore psychedelic space sludge whathtefuck that's just about the greatest thing we've ever heard.
MPEG Stream: "Home"
MPEG Stream: "Heart Of Hell"
MPEG Stream: "Intellect"

TORTOISE Beacons Of Ancestorship (Thrill Jockey) cd 15.98
Now this is indeed a pleasant surprise. The return of Tortoise. A band we were OBSESSED with in the beginning, whose first few records are classics, undefinable masterpieces that managed to totally transcend their classification as mere post rock. Tortoise's self titled debut still sounds classic and timeless, a loping hypnotic blend of math rock and krautrock and jazz. Their Millions Now Living, which was released in the very early days of the aQ list, so it only has a barely descriptive two sentence review, was a mind blowing meld of Oval like electronics and abstract jazziness, of brooding post rock and almost orchestral arrangements. The remix record, which found the band being reimagined by Steve Albini, Brad Wood, Bundy Brown, Jim O'Rourke, John McEntire and others, still ranks as one of the few examples of how a collection of remixes, in some ways can even transcend the originals. But from that point on, the band seemed to lose their way, it's hard to explain just how, but their record, often literally years in the making, surprisingly enough didn't sound fresh anymore, the sounds tired and played out, maybe meant to be 'mature' or 'academic' but instead mostly sounded boring, and in some cases bad.
There was always a spark, and every record had brief flashes, little musical moments that reminded us what they were once capable of.
Which brings us to the awkwardly titled Beacons Of Ancestorship, which while not a total mind blowing complete return to form, is pretty dang good. A handful of the tracks ranking up there with some of their classic jams from years back.
Most folks have been focusing on record opener "High Class Slim Came Floatin' In", and rightfully so, the band definitely had something to prove, some lost ground to make up, and some fans to win over again, and hell, "High Class Slim" is just the song to do it. It still sounds like Tortoise, but it's all revved up, skittery jazzy drums wrapped around deep woozy bass and reedy synth buzz, before in swoops some tripped out Stereolab / Tangerine Dream keyboard swirl, and then some super out of place buzzy keyboard groove, but it somehow works, the track gets more intense, the sounds smolder and throb, blissy and subtly psychedelic, a little bit funky, a lot bit space-y, even a breakdown that gets all cybotronic robot funk, washed over by some new age shimmer, and sparkely space-y effects... it was almost too much to hope for that the whole record would sound like that the whole way through, but then it wouldn't really be Tortoise, for these guys it's just a launching point for their latest exploration of sounds both simple and sinister, serene and cinematic, jazzy and funky.
There are definitely a few moments where things lag, where it definitely sounds like they're back to doing Tortoise by numbers, some Morricone-ish guitar, that while we usually love, here doesn't do much, some of the stretched out jams bog down more than bliss out, but those moments are few and far between, the rest of their time is spent weaving pretty fantastic flights of instrumental fancy, mathy jams rife with melodic curlicues and warm whirls of warble and whir, cool skittery almost dancehall sounding bits of buzz and blurt, wrapped around some truly funky rhythms, long stretches of stuttering almost African sounding grooves, laced with sitar like buzz, and cool psychedelic flourishes, and at least one track that starts off with some looped Afterschool Special music that is transformed into what sounds like the perfect backing track for a Kanye West song. And then there's the unpronounceable "Yinxianghechengqi" which finds Tortoise getting their Trans Am on, fuzzed out, snarling guitars wrapped in crumbling distortion, pulsing bass, John McEntire pummeling his kit like he probably hasn't since his Bastro Days, but then this IS Tortoise, so over the top they drape some atonal modal Return To Forever sort of buzz drenched melodic weirdness which ends up turning the song into something else entirely. And minus those few aforementioned lulls, the rest of the record continues on, and manages to hold our attention, and definitely has had us returning again and again.
So while it's not quite Millions, Beacons is definitely the best Tortoise record since the mid nineties, and once distanced from the legacy and the expectations and all the non musical bullshit, on it's own as simply a record by a band, a collection of songs and sounds, Beacons is really pretty fantastic.
MPEG Stream: "High Class Slim Came Floatin' In"
MPEG Stream: "Prepare Your Coffin"
MPEG Stream: "Yinxianghechengqi"

MRTYU Ornate Shroud (Tipped Bowler Tapes / Faunasabbatha) lp 17.98
Latest bit of obscure musical alchemism from the mysterious cave dwelling horde known simply as Mrtyu, but around here, also known as Antony Milton, head honcho of the Pseudo Arcana label, and the man behind numerous musical endeavors we dig BIG time: Street, Nether Dawn, Claypipe, With Throats As Fine As Needles, The Stumps, we could go on and on...
Mrtyu was always Milton's outlet for his darker side, a sort of blackened drone metal behemoth, never full committing the the black buzz, always sort of skirting the grim true BM sound, taking elements of that sound and fusing it to his more abstract, folky dronemusic, the results invariably kick ass. On this latest slab, the Mrtyu sound is markedly different, for all the noise and skree and buzz and general heaviness, it's also probably the prettiest Mrtyu yet. As if the ever raging battle between his folkier dronier 'good' side and his buzzier sludgier 'bad' side, has finally tipped to the side of good. But not too good, fear not.
Unlike some of the more grim noise drenched rituals of the past, the first side could almost be one of Milton's other projects. Sure there's plenty of guitar skree, sheets of feedback, and dense layers of soft chaos, but beneath it all lurk gorgeous lilting melodies, each avalanche of crumbling distortion can barely disguise the weirdly pretty, woozy, spidery, dreamy melodies within. Swirled smears of muted buzz wrap around delicate jangle and simple strum, dense cacophonous walls of sound tumble beneath crystalline chordal streaks.
It's not until the B side that things get seriously heavy. A gorgeous little Middle Eastern sounding tangle of melodies drifts over a soft layer of muted feedback, the strings sawed intensely, then suddenly, a buzzy blown out riff comes in, locked and looped, a mesmerizing lurching groove beneath the ever intensifying tangle of melodies, a twisted metallic Easter drone raga (or something) that could have taken up the whole record and we would have been psyched. Thankfully it takes up half of the second side.
The record finishes off with more abstract blackened folkiness, vocals enter the fray, a weird effected mewl, over rumbling distortion and shards of feedback, more squiggly little melodies, and some warm almost tranquil sounding guitar shimmer underneath.
Perhaps not so much for the weirdo metal obsessives anymore, this Mrtyu record will probably find a home with the more avant folk / abstract drone / free noise freaks, although truly adventurous metalheads should definitely not be dissuaded.
LIMITED TO 350 COPIES. Pressed on 180 gram vinyl. Housed in hand screened linen paper sleeves. NICE!

DINOSAUR JR. Farm (Limited Deluxe Version) (Jagjaguwar) 2cd 14.98
It's weird to think that in the current climate of rock reunionism, there's probably not a single band you loved when you were younger that you can't imagine reuniting, touring, even making a record. It's even weirder to think that once that band did get together, they might make a record the rivals any of their classics from decades earlier, and while Farm is no Bug or You're Living All Over Me, it's really not that far off. Especially considering what you might expect from a band making a new record nearly 25 years since their debut. Even harder to believe with a band like Dinosaur Jr, whose acrimonious (to say the least) breakup had most of us assuming they would never speak again, let alone write and record and tour.
But here it is, record number two since the original Dinosaur lineup reunited. 2007's Beyond was great, and Farm just rules. It's heavy, catchy as hell, the band are tight, Mascis' voice sounds exactly the same, his leads are wild and all over the place, and while we never thought we'd be hankering for some seriously jammed out guitar rock, Dino Jr. makes us wonder how we did without it for so long. Some of the tracks on Farm ("Pieces") are so catchy and so rocking, they sound like they could have been Bug outtakes. Farm is even more like an old Dinosaur Jr. record as bassist Lou Barlow (Sebadoh, Sentridoh, Folk Implosion) contributes a couple of his old songs, and unlike the old days, when his tracks were gorgeous sad boy 4-track loner folk gems, his two tracks here are dense and intense, super heavy, super catchy melancholy rockers, that sound like kick ass Sebadoh jams, and have us hankering for a new record from those guys too!
We're getting tired of reunions like everyone else. Not every band we loved needs to come back from the dead, and most already have a catalog that's pretty perfect without adding some modern sub par attempt at relevance, but fuck, it's tough to argue with a record as good as Farm, and a band who still kick as much ass as Dinosaur Jr.
While they last (not long we're guessing), we have the deluxe version, with a 4 song bonus track, which includes two Dino originals, a Zombies cover, and a cover of a psych pop classic by Elyse Weinberg.
MPEG Stream: "Pieces"
MPEG Stream: "I Want You To Know"
MPEG Stream: "Your Weather"

BONG Novum Castellum (Turgid Animal) 3cd 27.00
It always seems to happen this way, we spend ages and ages trying to track down recordings from an elusive band, hearing rumors about 7"s and cd-r's and tapes, and then suddenly, BOOM. Or in the case of these guys, Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom... the recordings come bursting forth, and again, in this case, the sounds spew from speakers and headphones like some viscous black torrent. Which can only mean one thing, the return of drugged out sludge drone mavens Bong. If ever a band was more appropriately named, Bong are ready to take them on. In fact, the only way a band could prevail monicker-wise, they'd have to be called Bong Blood Hell Froth, or Bladed Bong Skullorb, or something, and even with a name all ready for battle, it's doubtful their pathetic sounds would be any match for Bong's thick, sprawling doomscapes of sitar like buzz, churning bottom heavy crunch, and at least on one of the tracks here some serious drum pummel.
Three discs, five tracks, three hours, recorded in pubs, under bridges and in restaurants, one can only imagine the smoldering ruins these guys left in their lumbering drug-doom wake. Their live sound much more rocking then their doomed out minimal records might lead you to believe.
The opener on its own is worth the price of admission, a relentless buzzy, space-y sludgey groove, with some killer drumming, chaotic, mathy, but locked in pretty tight, the cymbals offering up a layer of warm swirling sizzle, the vocals a haunted demonic chant, the rest of the sonic space taken up by woozy washed out buzzing sitar like strings, a sort of Sleep meets Circle meets SUNNO))), a downtuned krautrock crunch, smeared into an endless drug drenched space rock groove. The second half of disc two offers up more of the same, with the drums even more frantic, the band rocking propulsively, not so sludgey as heavy and fierce, the song slipping into a tranced out sonic tarpit partway through, before exploding into a tangled doom-math outro.
The two tracks on the second disc see the drums pulling back a little, letting the guitars and vocals interlock, the result some sort of ritualistic groove, albeit wrapped around some serious percussive heft, the second of the two tracks blissing out pretty nicely, the band slipping comfortably into something a bit more meditative and slowcore sounding, but still the guitars smoke and smolder, the drums, while restrained, still sound urgent, the track seething with dark intensity, and minimal doomic menace.
The final disc, a nearly 40 minute single song set, is the heaviest and densest of the bunch, somehow fusing the blown out ur-drone of groups like Sunroof! with a fuzzed out garage doom space stomp. Think White Hills, the Heads, Monster Magnet, this is the sort of doom that's bursting with barely restrained psychedelia, like watching some black star explode, swirling red and yellow gouts of sonic fire spilling forth from a heaving black hole of sound. The sound lo-fi, lots of noise and reverb and distortion and ambient noise, the sound crumbles and breaks apart here and there, the band slipping easily from ponderous trudge to blissed out shimmer, often merging the two into some soul shearing psychedelic doom.
A few of these tracks were already released, but as a cd-r in a limited run of 50 or something crazy like that, so odds are, like us, you never even saw 'em. These are proper, real cds (NOT cd-r's), packaged in a dvd style case, with printed inserts. And is also limited, this time to 300 copies!
MPEG Stream: "Trillians / January 08 (excerpt)"
MPEG Stream: "Under Byker Bridge Space / 1st June 08 (excerpt)"

OLD MAYOR s/t (Paradigms) cd 12.98
The second of two new releases from the always kick ass UK label Paradigms. Elsewhere on this list you'll find the debut from black doom crust heavies Bosnia, and here we have the debut from UK doomsludge duo Old Mayor, just guitar and drums, these two whip up a fierce frenzy, that the label compares to both Burning Witch and Slint, which makes sense, the band slips easily from moody post rockisms, into full on blackened metal meltdowns, the vocals, howled and harsh and hateful, the guitars unfurling soaring mournful melodies, and thick corrosive chords, the band lurching through reverb drenched fields of downtuned chug, gorgeous crystalline harmonics, pounding drummage, before turning on a dime and stretching out into some long languid shimmer, that actually reminds us more of Engine Kid than Slint, before exploding again into a pounding minor key dirge metal blowout.
Here and there things slooooow waaaay doooown and the band do get all Khanate, the guitars ringing out, the drums a sporadic plod, but those stretches of slow motion heaviness are perfectly balanced by the hushed post rockisms, and the sheer epic melodiousness of even the most crushing brutal parts. The recording is really strange too, turning the stripped down minimal instrumentation into something almost orchestral, the guitars are thick, massive, dense, the drums LOUD and way up in the mix, both alternatingly wound tight, or sparring dizzily. And when the band lock in tight, the song is transformed into something else entirely, woozy waltzy post doom math sludge bliss.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
MPEG Stream: "Bridges"
MPEG Stream: "Bring In The Sleeper"
MPEG Stream: "Bag Of Cats"

LAMP OF THE UNIVERSE Acid Mantra (Astral Projection) cd 12.98
Few cosmic sonic explorers can evoke the mysterious druggy sounds of the astral plane quite like New Zealand space drone raga one man project Lamp Of The Universe, who has returned once again to guide us on this, our latest journey through a warm whirling tripped out soundworld of acoustic guitars and buzzing sitars, of chantlike vocals and simple hypnotic rhythms, of glimmering effects and washed out dreamlike drift.
It's been almost two years since we reviewed the last LOTU, and since then the Lamp seems to have undergone a bit of a change, most of the sounds are still present, and still sound divine, but now vocals play a way bigger part. We were wary for sure, we prefer our spaced out dronerock instrumental generally, or if there must be vocals, then just chanting or some sort of wordless vocalizing, but LOTU manages to pull it off, there is in fact actual singing. LOTU mainman Craig Williamson has an appealing reedy croon, that is not heavily effected, but just enough, draped in reverb and echo, there are plenty of oooooh's and aaaaah's, but the vocals proper are pretty cool, in fact, the main thing the vocals do is make this sound less like some abstract space drone record, and more like some lost seventies raga folk record, which is definitely a good thing.
While some of the tracks are still washed out drifts of buzzing synth and sitar, others are haunting laments, populated with banjos and fluttering flutes. Gorgeous.
If you ever wondered what it might sound like if some seventies British raga folk got all tangled up in some dreamy ambient drone-y space rock, well then this will most definitely hit the spot.
MPEG Stream: "Love Eternal"
MPEG Stream: "Astral Planes Of Knowing"
MPEG Stream: "Universe Within"

MAJOR LAZER Guns Don't Kill... Lazers Kill (Mad Descent / Downtown Music) cd 15.98
We love dancehall, the beat, the rhythms, the toasting especially, the lurching hypnotic groove of it, but what we, and lots of other folks have always had trouble with, was the lyrical content, the whole scene in fact, rife with violence, and homophobia and misogyny, much like American hip hop, but even more fucked up and seriously unpalatable.
So much so that plenty of folks around aQ land who might otherwise dig dancehall big time, have sworn off it completely. UNTIL NOW.
Diplo and Switch, bring their twisted and tweaked approach to beats and grooves, and whip up one the wildest, craziest dancehall records EVER. And what better way to thumb their noses at traditional dancehall than by getting a whole gaggle of female rappers and toasters to team up with the more well know male Jamaican dancehall vocalists, often verbally sparring back and forth in the same song. The sound is supercharged, electrifying, the beats banging, the samples bizarre but perfect, a tangled technicolor musical backdrop over which the vocalists do their THANG.
Morricone-esque guitars, the clip clop of horse hooves, ringing cell phones, horse whinnies, dizzying looped rhythms, a killer stuttery beat, tons of woozy low end, everything chopped and hiccuppy, an awesome deep growly bit of toasting, and some cool looped Santogold vox, before she gets to spit her own bad ass verse, and that's just the first song.
The whole disc destroys though, relentless non stop hip shaking head bobbing sweaty sexy speaker destroying musical magic, some tracks bliss out into some sunshiney reggae grooviness, all laid back, infused with some awesome smoky sultry vox, other tracks get raw and rough, with buzzing guitars and fuzzed out bass lines, plenty of clatter and crunch, others are fizzly and festive, with vocodered vocals and skittery beats, and still others are dense tightly wound jams, drenched in effects and tangled up with rollicking block rocking beats and squiggly melodies. Even as an instrumental record, this would kill, but the vocalists push it over the top, tongue twisting flows all over the place, lightning fast sputters, growly drawls, head spinning back and forth and of course plenty of whoops and whooooooos...
Summer dancehall party record of the year for sure, with awesome Major Lazer cartoon cover art, very reminiscent of the classic old Scientist albums!! So recommended. Every time we play this in the store, someone comes up to see what the heck it is!
MPEG Stream: "Hold The Line"
MPEG Stream: "When You Hear The Bassline"
MPEG Stream: "Can't Stop Now"

PERSISTENCE IN MOURNING Breaking With The Wheel (Universal Tongue) 3" cd-r 9.98
Killer ep from this one man US funeral avant doom outfit. The sound here veers wildly from tripped out doom-ed psychedelic experiments to moody post rocky instrumentalism to bizarre drum machine flecked drone plod, and yeah, finally to some buzz drenched bizarre doom. And bizarre it is. Of the four tracks here, only one is actually doom metal all the way through, and even then, it's fractured and fucked up and freaky as all get out. Makes sense that this was released on the same label that gave us a recent Gnaw Their Tongues release, as PiM are definitely another obtuse doom metal variant, and we LOVE it.
The opening track begins with some classical guitar, draped over distant cacophonies, and fluttery flute, glitched out electronic buzz, clouds of swirling effects, strange detuned melodies, thick slabs of corrosive buzz, anguished wails, before the second track kicks in and the band pound out a slow motion doom crawl, the distortion brittle and crumbling, the vocals in the red and hyper distorted, in fact, all the sounds are super blown out, and then near the end, some weird way up in the mix acoustic guitars drift in, as the doom pounds on beneath. Then comes a brief instrumental interlude, all gentle piano, simple guitar strum, and some obtuse, slightly out of tune slow motion leads, until the doom drops, and the song lurches woozily toward the final track, a warped dronescape, all whirring electronic low end, distorted voices transmitted beneath some rubbery bass, so detuned you can hear the strings rattling against the frets, and then out of nowhere, some super primitive drum machine surfaces, its stilted machinelike skitter, draped over the throbbing buzzing electronics below, so bizarre, and so brilliant.
We tried to order a bunch of these, but only managed to get a handful, limited to 100 copies, packaged in cool mini dvd sleeves, with full color artwork, each one hand numbered, last copies ever.
MPEG Stream: "The Season Of The Devil"
MPEG Stream: "A Grim Pageant Of Death"

PURPLE RHINESTONE EAGLE A Morum Tali (Eolian) lp 12.98
We got a handful of these when the band were in town, but they disappeared before we could even hear it. We managed to get more finally, and HOLY SHIT, it's not hard to hear why we couldn't keep these in stock, some seriously fuzzy, Sabbathy, mystical metal garage rock, or something. The women from Portland, kicking out the jams, warm, languid, buzzy, doomy jams, super psychedelic, the guitars muddy and fuzzed out, the bass deep and throbbing, the drums pounding and a bit chaotic, the vocals wild and emotional and intense, reminding us quite a bit of Christina Billotte, in fact Purple Rhinestone Eagle sounds a bit like some weird mix of Quix*O*Tic and Pentagram. Which is a very very good thing. The vocals go from woozy deepish croon to wild punkish wail, perfectly balancing the warbly wandering mesmerizing basslines and the warped minor key leads. The sound is sometimes epic and frenzied and very metal, sometimes brooding and murky and garage-y, often the two elements blurring into something else entirely.
Anyone who has been digging Jex Thoth or The Devil's Blood will definitely dig this, and White Magic fans who might enjoy a more mystical and metal Ms. Billotte, might just dig this as well.
Eye popping hand silkscreened sleeves, full color insert with lyrics and lots of rad psychedelic photos, pressed on opaque green vinyl, and yeah, probably pretty limited.

SLEEP Holy Mountain (Earache) cd 15.98
What more needs to be said about this stoner doom classic from 1992? Heavy, hooky, groovy, Sabbathy, a classic slab of metallic drugginess that launched a million pale imitators (not that Sleep were all-original either, being Sabbathy as we said!). Reissued now with, natch, a bonus Black Sabbath cover ("Snowblind" from the Masters Of Misery tribute comp) and the video for "Dragonaut", so completists might just have to buy it again, but even without those extras, anyone who somehow managed make it this far without hearing Sleep's Holy Mountain, well, now's the time to remedy that for sure...
Needless to say, this shit is HEAVY! Dirge-y, cannabis fueled excursions into the dark realm, swinging Sabbathy riffs, pounding devil drum percussion, and a wailing howl over it all. Fans of Corrupted, Boris, stoner rock, sludge, doom, and all that sort of stuff, catch the hell up!! Sleep's Holy Mountain was this so-Sabbathy bands MOST Sabbath-like release, almost too close for comfort - we're not convinced that Tony and Geezer didn't actually write this stuff!! Which in it's own twisted way is a very very good thing indeed. Wow. ESSENTIAL!
MPEG Stream: "Dragonaut"
MPEG Stream: "The Druid"

WICKHAM-SMITH, SIMON A Seventh Persimmon (Tape Drift) cd-r 8.98
It's been ages since we've reviewed anything from aQ beloved soundmaker Simon Wickham-Smith, but A Seventh Persimmon is the perfect way to get reacquainted. Three long tracks, totalling over 60 minutes, all three minimal and delicate, the first mostly piano, gently and barely effected, the notes allowed plenty of time to drift and hover and decay, very Eno-esque for sure, but filtered through that distinctly DIY, underground cd-r filter, adding grit and texture, some lo-fi whir and hiss, to an otherwise gorgeously ephemeral drift. The second track is even more minimal, a symphony of barely there buzz, processed and sculpted into strange abstract shapes, as if W-S composed the track using just the buzz of various household appliances, the fridge, the computer, the heater, all emanating that whispery hiss, but then, strange glitchy almost-vocals surface, burbling up from below, peppering the otherwise microscopic landscape of muted buzz.
The closing track is epic, a tumbling multicolored array of warm glowing tones, underwater textures, tangled dizzying melodies, like a symphony of calliopes playing on the ocean floor, or that first track looped and layered over and over and over, skittery, warped, warbly, woozy, streaks and blurs and smears, processed and looped, shimmering and swooping backwards and forwards, soft focus, a meticulously jumbled bit of underwater psychedelica, nods to Oval for sure, rendered in a slow sifting stasis, a waking dreamstate, where sounds and colors and shapes merge into sweet sweet music.
MPEG Stream: "Ursa Minor"
MPEG Stream: "A Seventh Persimmon"

KATHARSIS Fourth Reich (Norma Evangelium Diaboli) cd 13.98
The 2009 return of Germany's completely unhinged Katharsis has proven to be one of the year's best and most evil surprises. The awesome recent split with Antaeus had metalheads wondering what Katharsis had been up to since their essential VVorld VVithout End album from 2006, but like the return of the similarly amazing Funeral Mist with Maranatha, folks everywhere were getting ready to shit all over Fourth Reich based on some vague initial responses from people who obviously have no clue what they are talking about. The big griping point seems to be that Fourth Reich is not as frantic and universe destroying as its predecessor, and there's no denying that the boys from Saxony had their work cut out for them. But after two spins of Fourth Reich it is clear that what we have here is one of the best metal records of the year, no question. Perhaps it is *slightly* less insane than VVorld, but more than anything it seems like the logical extension of that unruly beast, sounding exactly like what you would expect from something recorded at "Rape of Harmonies".
Three of the five songs here clock in at over 10 minutes, giving Katharsis plenty of time to sear your face off with their furious, unrelenting attack. Things kick off as out of control as you could ever hope for in a record with "So Nail The Hearts". In classic Katharsis fashion, the song is blazingly fast and like a tornado taking in everything in its path. And then of course there are those vocals... Try to imagine the general approximation of a demon clawing its way out of Hell, punctuated by moments that sound like a hysterical witch being tortured with some sharpened medieval object. Lyrically, the song tells a tale of blasphemous, Satanic destruction with choice couplets like "Our throats becometh an open grayve; vve'll use our sperm to deceive/the venom of asps is to be under our lipps; vve'll be armed vvith lyonne teethe." Woah. There is a brutal midtempo part halfway in, but even as the band slows for a brief moment, the super windy ambience of the recording keeps you firmly aware of Katharsis' cosmically blackened powers. Most unexpected with this song are the female vocals towards the end. STOP: we already know what you're thinking, and just be aware that this is nothing like what you generally find screwing up lots of black metal. Instead, the presence of the undeniably beautiful voice does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to change the vile tone of this number, in fact, as Katharsis buzzes their way to the song's conclusion, it almost seems like the female vocals are simply there as some sort of religious mockery. Which, you know, is totally fucking awesome.
Next up we have "Eucharistick Funereall", beginning with a punkish riff and more unbelievable shrieking. It's so rad, and impossible to ignore, as we observed with customers desperately trying to focus on which record to buy as this beast buzzed all around them. The guitars are like napalm, and things eventually lead into a super thrashy groove with an uber-heavy D-beat brutalizing your skull. There is a gloomy breakdown with surprisingly melodic guitar melodies wrapped in the non-stop riffing before an awesome rock n' roll ending.
"Reckoning" is pretty much the sound of the black metal holocaust, an unwavering, hypnotic buzz of psychedelic proportions followed by the unexpected synthscape of "Emeralde Graves". Strangely majestic, but also ominous as hell and just plain creepy, this piece is quite cinematic and plausible enough reason to believe that the dudes in Katharsis may own a Goblin record or two. It serves as a cool segue before the final song, "Sinn Koronation", a perfect closer that is slower, dirgier, and maybe even heavier than anything else on the record. Of course, things do reach lightspeed eventually with a very METAL guitar solo, but after a few minutes, Katharsis go back into their hateful lurch. Interestingly, their slower moments are incredibly powerful, not only on their own, but especially in contrast to the majority of the record. When Katharsis get all doomy toward the end of the song, it's like they've decided to just leave your mangled body in the wreckage they created, and then synths take over for a beautiful ending to an ugly, ugly record.
You get the impression that this band is unstoppable. They certainly sound like it. When one thinks about how reactionary parents have responded to metal over the past four decades, it usually turns out to be a whole lot of concern over nothing; Katharsis is exactly what they *thought* you were listening to all these years. So basically, we're giving this one our highest possible recommendation.
MPEG Stream: "So Nail The Hearts"
MPEG Stream: "Eucharistick Funereall"

KATHARSIS Fourth Reich (Norma Evangelium Diaboli) lp 23.00
The 2009 return of Germany's completely unhinged Katharsis has proven to be one of the year's best and most evil surprises. The awesome recent split with Antaeus had metalheads wondering what Katharsis had been up to since their essential VVorld VVithout End album from 2006, but like the return of the similarly amazing Funeral Mist with Maranatha, folks everywhere were getting ready to shit all over Fourth Reich based on some vague initial responses from people who obviously have no clue what they are talking about. The big griping point seems to be that Fourth Reich is not as frantic and universe destroying as its predecessor, and there's no denying that the boys from Saxony had their work cut out for them. But after two spins of Fourth Reich it is clear that what we have here is one of the best metal records of the year, no question. Perhaps it is *slightly* less insane than VVorld, but more than anything it seems like the logical extension of that unruly beast, sounding exactly like what you would expect from something recorded at "Rape of Harmonies".
Three of the five songs here clock in at over 10 minutes, giving Katharsis plenty of time to sear your face off with their furious, unrelenting attack. Things kick off as out of control as you could ever hope for in a record with "So Nail The Hearts". In classic Katharsis fashion, the song is blazingly fast and like a tornado taking in everything in its path. And then of course there are those vocals... Try to imagine the general approximation of a demon clawing its way out of Hell, punctuated by moments that sound like a hysterical witch being tortured with some sharpened medieval object. Lyrically, the song tells a tale of blasphemous, Satanic destruction with choice couplets like "Our throats becometh an open grayve; vve'll use our sperm to deceive/the venom of asps is to be under our lipps; vve'll be armed vvith lyonne teethe." Woah. There is a brutal midtempo part halfway in, but even as the band slows for a brief moment, the super windy ambience of the recording keeps you firmly aware of Katharsis' cosmically blackened powers. Most unexpected with this song are the female vocals towards the end. STOP: we already know what you're thinking, and just be aware that this is nothing like what you generally find screwing up lots of black metal. Instead, the presence of the undeniably beautiful voice does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to change the vile tone of this number, in fact, as Katharsis buzzes their way to the song's conclusion, it almost seems like the female vocals are simply there as some sort of religious mockery. Which, you know, is totally fucking awesome.
Next up we have "Eucharistick Funereall", beginning with a punkish riff and more unbelievable shrieking. It's so rad, and impossible to ignore, as we observed with customers desperately trying to focus on which record to buy as this beast buzzed all around them. The guitars are like napalm, and things eventually lead into a super thrashy groove with an uber-heavy D-beat brutalizing your skull. There is a gloomy breakdown with surprisingly melodic guitar melodies wrapped in the non-stop riffing before an awesome rock n' roll ending.
"Reckoning" is pretty much the sound of the black metal holocaust, an unwavering, hypnotic buzz of psychedelic proportions followed by the unexpected synthscape of "Emeralde Graves". Strangely majestic, but also ominous as hell and just plain creepy, this piece is quite cinematic and plausible enough reason to believe that the dudes in Katharsis may own a Goblin record or two. It serves as a cool segue before the final song, "Sinn Koronation", a perfect closer that is slower, dirgier, and maybe even heavier than anything else on the record. Of course, things do reach lightspeed eventually with a very METAL guitar solo, but after a few minutes, Katharsis go back into their hateful lurch. Interestingly, their slower moments are incredibly powerful, not only on their own, but especially in contrast to the majority of the record. When Katharsis get all doomy toward the end of the song, it's like they've decided to just leave your mangled body in the wreckage they created, and then synths take over for a beautiful ending to an ugly, ugly record.
You get the impression that this band is unstoppable. They certainly sound like it. When one thinks about how reactionary parents have responded to metal over the past four decades, it usually turns out to be a whole lot of concern over nothing; Katharsis is exactly what they *thought* you were listening to all these years. So basically, we're giving this one our highest possible recommendation.
MPEG Stream: "So Nail The Hearts"
MPEG Stream: "Eucharistick Funereall"

HEAVY WINGED Shaking, Waking (Aurora Borealis) lp 21.00
Two more sidelong tracks from these masters of metallic psychedelic and blown out krautnoise bliss. And as always it's a glorious earful.
The first side starts out all woozy and contemplative, spaced out, but somehow already epic, doused in distortion and feedback, the band build the sound into a dense tangle of muted riffs, murky and washed out, bleary and buzzy, they stretch it out, total trancerock for sure, before eventually blissing out into deep swells of smeared and streaked feedback and warm crystalline shimmer, finally exploding into some full on chaotic supernova psychnoise. But even at it's most freaked out, the sound is still warm and enveloping, all the jagged edges smoothed off, creating a mysterious cloud of sound that manages to be both heavy and intense, laid back and serene.
The second side offers up more of the same, but with the introduction of some dizzying machinelike chugging, draped over long strands of drifty cinematic whir, peppered with bits of spare percussive skitter, all very looped and hypnotic and very very krautrocky. Gradually, the sound expands into a fiery ball of chaotic drummage, wild steaks of psychedelic guitar skywriting and a thick, drone-y, sprawling looped churn that unfurls gradually to the end of the side.
Impossibly both heavy and dreamlike, as if the band we're playing full bore, amps to 11, but we're listening from the room next door, our ear pressed to the wall, or the sound being projected through loudspeakers inside a massive fogbank. Similar to how Skepticism turned doom into something more murky and choral then downtuned and depressive, Heavy Winged continue to drag their psychedelic krautrock through some underwater otherworld, the result something still psychedelic and heavy, but also truly transcendent.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Pressed on heavy transparent grey vinyl, in super thick full color sleeves.

LOOP World In Your Eyes (Reactor) 3cd 22.00
Finally!! Ever since the first two Loop records got the deluxe multidisc reissue treatment, we've been anxiously awaiting the last two, their final record A Gilded Eternity, and this one right here, many folks around here's favorite, a compilation of 12"s called World In Your Eyes. Originally released in 1987, the updated World In Your Eyes is even better, a TRIPLE disc collection of 12"s, 7"s, bonus tracks, unreleased tracks, demos, and covers.
Seemingly always (unfairly) overshadowed by their sonic brethren the Spacemen 3, Loop managed to give the drugged out drone rock thing their own distinct spin, infusing some serious krautrock mesmer and some metallic muscle into their slow burning drones and effects drenched psychrock workouts. Slipping easily from super dreamy one riff blown out hypno rock, to in-the-red space garage pound, to hushed soft focus inner space drift, Loop were masters of modern psychedelia.
Take the 10 minute drug drift of "Burning World", with its processed guitar chug, the swirling clouds of effects, the blooping bass, the motorik drums, like the perfect mix of Can and Hawkwind. Or "Brittle Head Girl", which sounded like a spacier more tripped out Galaxie 500, its lazy drawled vocals, and woozy guitar hook, and that irresistible bassline. Or "I'll Take You There", a super fuzzed out bit of garage-y space groove, the band easily out spacing the Spacemen themselves. We could probably go track by track, every one here is a gem, and the extras! Holy shit. Where to start? Besides a plethora of demos, live tracks and the like, this collection also includes some incredible covers, A spaced out version of a Pop Group track, Neil Young's "Cinammon Girl", Nick Drake's "Pink Moon" and Can's "Mother Sky (which Andee sez is better than the original, yeah we know, we know). Then there's the Arc-Lite 12" that takes up the first half of the third disc, one of our favorite Loop eps, and the track "Arc-Lite (Sonar)" is one of the best Loop jams ever, with its relentless riffing, it's strange flurries of tribal drumming, the echo drenched vox and the swooping streaks of effects, a 4 minute song that could easily have been ten times that. The song is reimagined as the "(Radar)" version, getting sort of supercharged, heavier and fleshier, less spare and skeletal and jangly than the original. There's a third version still, that gets all remixed into something less space rocky and more tripped out and dizzying. Let's not forget the ten minute "Sunburst", a sprawling bit of lysergic minimal krautdrone, woozy and druggy and slow burning. There's also the legendary live Prisma Europa Live 12", and finally, to top it all off, Loop's Godflesh cover, from their Loopflesh split 7", where each band covered the other, one of our Holy Grail 7"s, if anyone out there has one they can part with, we will be forever in your debt, and of course it's a killer, Godflesh's "Like Rats" transformed into something much spacier but no less menacing, in fact, it's most definitely the heaviest meanest slab of Loop-age ever, while still retaining plenty of that Loop-ed FX drenched shimmer. So goddamn GREAT.
These reissues have been shuffling tracks around enough to cause a little confusion, as some of the tracks on the original issue of WIYE are left off here, but are tacked on elsewhere on the other reissues, and disc 3 here seems like it could have been included on the Gilded Eternity disc as this disc highlights one of our favorite Loop tracks, the above mentioned Arc-Light, originally a 1989 single, which was lumped onto the cd edition of A Gilded Eternity which came out a year later in 1990. But who really cares, as long as it's all here, and it's ALL here, and then some. Space rock and drone rock and psychedelic rock fanatics should buy all four, one of the most supremely transcendent and kick ass bodies of work in rock. Hyperbole? We think NOT.
Killer packaging, three paper sleeves with various reproductions of the included 12"s, all housed in a slipcover, with a booklet that includes track listings credits, but sadly, not much in the way of liner notes.
MPEG Stream: "Head On"
MPEG Stream: "Burning World"
MPEG Stream: "Mother Sky"
MPEG Stream: "Pink Moon"
MPEG Stream: "Cinnamon Girl"
MPEG Stream: "Arc-Lite (Sonar)"

VENETIAN SNARES Horsey Noises (Planet Mu) cd 9.98
We love Venetian Snares, every record, we're faced with the possibility of more of we love, or something new and twisted that's bound to confuse and confound. Whether it's splattery drill and bass, or cinematic string drenched soundtrackisms or old school nineties retro techno weirdness, we're pretty much into everything this guy give us.
That said, the most recent full length, Filth, was the first one in a long time that just didn't hit the spot, it just wasn't... well, filthy enough. A little bit of the same old thing, and even then not the same old thing that we loved, definitely sort of blah.
But then comes along Horsey Noises, and we're flipping our lids. The firs thing you'll notice are the vocals. Yep, vocals, the title track is weird fractured electro Depeche Mode-ish slow burn groove, complete with crooned vocals talking about how he wants to make the horse teethed girl make horsey noises. Sick and twisted, and the music suits it perfectly, rubbery buzzy basslines, skittery beats, even handclaps, but all blown out and woozy, lots of atonal abstract melodies, like Venetian Snares remixed through a mainstream pop funhouse mirror. By the end, all the sounds and the vocals are chopped up and twisted and super distorted and twisted all around into a noise drenched electro noisejam. If there was ever gonna be a hit single (there wasn't!) this could be it, if it wasn't so fucked up and jumbled and chaotic and if the lyrics weren't so bizarre. But we love it. Kinda has us hoping VS will sing more in the future. Picture Venetian Snares as some twisted electro pop crooner. Could be cool.
The title track gets remixed, the vocals get pushed way up, but the music is even more far out, eventually exploding into some classic super damaged drilled out jungle craziness. Might be the jam of the record!
The other two tracks are pretty bad ass too, "Horsey Vag Island" is post Aphex, Squarepushery jazz bass bit of looped skittery buzz and stutter, groovy and danceable, but filtered through a sort of ADD, full frontal lobotomy, DJ meltdown. The second track "Pig Dync", about a pig's special part, is a tad more tame, with woozy synths, haunting late night melodies, some total house music synths, but the beats still plenty convoluted, everything chopped up, and thrown back together, even mixes in what sounds like some 'oinks'. Crazy shit. But so good. So good in fact that we might have to revisit Filth. But for now, "Horsey Noises" and the even more mutated remix "Horsey Noisers" will remain in constant heavy rotation in the wild all night dancefloor that exists only in our heads. That's where we dance to stuff like this. Yeah, weird, we know....
RealAudio clip: "Horsey Noises"
MPEG Stream: "Horsey Noisers"

WOLVES IN THE THRONE ROOM Black Cascade (Southern Lord) 2lp 27.00
This gorgeous slab of Cascadian black buzz, now available on ultra limited, super deluxe double vinyl...
By now, Wolves in the Throne Room have established themselves as one of America's most gifted and awesomely dependable black metal bands, and their third long player, Black Cascade, picks up right where their recent Malevolent Grain ep left off. All the elements of their expansive, blackened psychedelic approach are here: sprawling songs with a methodical attention to song structure, relentless drumming, perfectly interlocking dual guitars, tortured raspy vocals, and an ability to seamlessly merge synthy ambience with a furious but often very melancholy black metal onslaught. There seems to be a legion of haters out there, ready to label the band as a bunch of PC hippies who aren't adhering to whatever rules they assume apply to a style of music that is pretty nihilistic and iconoclastic by nature. But fuck those people. This band is great and truly deserves whatever accolades come its way.
The ever-present density of WITTR's sound is further heightened on Black Cascade, their bio proudly emphasizing the old school analog sound they have achieved through vintage recording gear and classic tube amps. While we don't want to ramble on about various pieces of musical equipment, it should be noted that these devices have certainly helped the band to capture a sound music nerds might refer to as "organic". Sure, we at aQuarius love all the homemade bedroom black metal that sounds as if it was recorded in a blender during a tornado... The sound on Black Cascade, however, is clear and upfront, though hardly refined or polished. It is quite rock n' roll in a classic sense, which works great when the band breaks out some Thin Lizzy-esque guitar harmonies on the first track "Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog". Mossy, ultra distorted guitars hang like a thick black cloud (or a sea of fog, if you will) in the atmosphere as the drums create the necessary propulsion that make a Wolves in the Throne Room song sound like it could, and should, carry on FOREVER. Song #2, "Ahrimanic Trance" is, true to its title, a hypnotic, trancelike black metal trip into some long forgotten wilderness. The song gives one a feeling of being transported at high speeds across the landscape while watching from the back of some primitive vehicle, a sense that is carried on in the next track, "Ex Cathedra". The final song, "Crystal Ammunition", starts life as a dizzying, hyperspeed slab of pure black metal before morphing into a beautiful lament that may (or may not) reference the melody from Malevolent Grain's "A Looming Resonance". It's seems like things will culminate in the ultimate fadeout. But, uh, what happens after the fade out? As everything gallops off into the distance, otherworldly guitar chords and tambourine are the only sounds evident. Eventually these too recede as they are overtaken by a phased out synthscape. Fucking awesome.
While this album was great from the moment we first put it on, repeated listens have been revealing more and more. To say this is a huge departure from what Wolves in the Throne Room have accomplished in the past would be inaccurate. It is, instead, the sound of a group who, with each record, becomes a more realized version of itself.
MPEG Stream: "Ex Cathedra"
MPEG Stream: "Ahrimanic Trance"

G.E.S. (GESELLSCHAFT ZUR EMANZIPATION DES SAMPLES) Circulations (Faitiche) cd 19.98
The second release from Jan Jelinek's Faitiche imprint. The first being the too-good-to-be-true, past Record Of The Week, Ursula Bogner collection, a supposed archival compilation of various recordings made by a 40 something housewife who dabbled in electronic music in her spare time. We like to believe it was all real, and not some meticulously assembled hoax, but hell, even if it was in fact Jelinek, it was so well done, it almost makes it better. Almost.
For release number two, Jelinek has convened an imaginary body called the Gesellschaft Zur Emanzipation Des Samples, or Society For The Emancipation Of Samples, more an idea than an acting body (although it seems like Jelinek imagines it eventually being real, or maybe he's just messing with us again), the Society would exist to address the idea of environmental recording, when that recording contains copyrighted sounds. For example, a field recording of a state fair, where one of the rides just so happens to be blasting ZZ Top. Is ZZ Top then entitled to royalties from your recording of the fair? So Circulations is a sonic experiment of sorts, setting up similar situations, where various bits of recordings and samples are broadcast, projected or played in public spaces, which are then recorded, capturing not only those sampled sounds, but also the ambience, voices, footsteps, the sample becoming simply another found sound in a world of sounds waiting to be found. All very interesting for sure, thankfully the actual recordings are pretty fantastic as well. Not sure how much light they shed on the problem/issue, but from a purely listening standpoint they are super cool. Much of the sampled sound seems to be from exotica records, but they are broadcast in various locations which affect the sounds differently, sometimes it's a looped cartoon sounding oboe, wrapped in hiss, with a conversation taking place in the background, other times, there are the sound of footsteps, hidden behind what sounds like a blur of birdcalls and strange malfunctioning computers. Crackling lullaby like melodies wrap around machine like rhythms, the room sound adding all sorts of natural reverb, moody minimal dub loops wreathed in buzz and static drifting through what sounds like a big empty hallway, glitchy electronics and dramatic strings being broadcast amidst the clinks and clanks of a kitchen or restaurant or supermarket, minimal classical music underpins wandering couples, swooping backwards calliope music ringing out in what sounds like a mall or department store, regardless of place, or technique, the sounds and songs here are gorgeous, playful sometimes, haunting other times, the various sounds as important to the pieces and the overall sound as the samples, both elements blurred into one truly fantastic listening experience.
Beautifully packaged in a mini digibook, with extensive liner notes, in multiple languages, a few illustrations and even some footnotes.
MPEG Stream: "Orinoco, Bullerbu (Crossfade)"
MPEG Stream: "Oberhausen"
MPEG Stream: "Laokoon Lagoon"
MPEG Stream: "Samplecredits (Manipulated)"

BRAINBOMBS Fucking Mess (Lystring) lp 22.00
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
We listed this once before, with a short sharp bit of effusive encouragement, recommending that EVERYONE try to get their hands on this new one from these legendary Swedish garage sludge filth mongers, but at the time we only had a handful and it was already out of print. Well, it got repressed again, still WAY too limited, we got more than we did before, but even then, not nearly enough. So fer chrissakes, grab one of these while you can, cuz Fucking Mess is A NEW FUCKING BRAINBOMBS RECORD!! And of course it rules. Heavy and droney and hypnotic and dirgey and AMAZING. Some impossible mix of lurching murky doom and pounding hypnotic garage stomp, the vocals weary and buried in the mix, weird horns lacing the abject miserablism of these sub-Stooges one riff jams, mesmerizingly brutal, and so fucking awesome. A Fucking Mess indeed, like a particularly grisly crime scene, every track here is a harrowing sonic journey through some seedy filth encrusted punk rock underworld, nasty and savage and brutish and heavy and groovy in some dementedly ungroovy way. Check the various other Brainbombs reviews on the aQ site for more gushing, they are after all one of our favorite bands. Needless to say, fans NEED this, newbies will be instantly converted, now we're just crossing our fingers for a cd version...

BURIAL HEX / ZOLA JESUS split (Aurora Borealis) lp 21.00
A new installment of "oppressive necro electronics" from Burial Hex, aka Clay Ruby, who when not whipping up these abject clouds of filthy black ambience, spends his time rocking out psychedelically in Jex Thoth, getting filthy metal in Wormsblood, and creating all manner of folky weirdness in Davenport (besides running the kick ass Skulls Of Heaven label).
But Burial Hex is so far removed from Ruby's other combos, they barely warrant mentioning. Burial Hex is the sound of some ancient black ritual, some sick sonik sorcery, where, guitars wind around electronics, and are all smeared into thick heaving slabs of doomdronedirge. The first of two tracks here however sounds bit different that what we're used to, introducing vocals, a howled feral wail, that ends up making this sound like some post industrial blackened Oxbow, minimal guitar strum, bursts of static, fragments of electronic skitter, creepy and atmospheric but super ethereal and hauntingly tense.
The second track returns to more familiar territory, a long sprawling slow motion doomscape, downtuned guitars draped over fractured electronics, bits of shuffling minimal percussion, warm whirring church organs, samples and found sounds, all very mysterious, subtly folky, damaged and abstract, and very very cinematic.
Never heard of Zola Jesus before, but they're a good match for Burial Hex, countering with their own sort of blackened soundscapery. A softly whirling cloud of glitched out electronics, disembodied vocals, almost choral sounding, swirling swooping effects, shards of new wave-y synth, eventually transforming into a nightmarish industrial creep, doused in more effects, all wrapped in thick billowy sheets of downtuned rumble, slipping from spaced out otherworldliness to grim, blackened, doom drenched dronemusick.
Pressed on super thick vinyl and housed in gorgeous matte sleeves, all the text printed in clear reflective ink.

HYADNINGAR The Weak Creation (Total Rust) cd 13.98
Yet ANOTHER amazing slab of extreme, gnarled grim blackness from the seemingly bottomless depths of the French underground, this time from a horde known as Hyadningar. The Weak Creation is the second full length from these evil wicked warriors, and finds the band whipping up serious storm of grim, technical, melodic black metal, a strange mix of Deathspell-ish complexity, epic soaring melodicism, dour depressive miserablism, and even a hint of Viking metal hear and there.
That's a lot to cram into one sound, or one record, or even one band, but these guys pull it off, twisting those various sounds into something all their own, and then weaving them all together into some strange blackened patchwork. The first song veers from woozy clean guitars and soaring chantlike vocals, to lurching Burzum-y trudge, to haunting almost martial sounding breakdowns with tangled guitar harmonies, military snares, and haunting spoken word, but it all somehow flows, an expansive, complex bit of black metal chaos.
The vocals are frenzied and frayed, maniacal and feral, slipping from shriek to croak to howl, courtesy of Marquis, whose vokills might sound familiar from his time spent in Bethlehem, Funeralium and Ataraxie, and they perfectly compliment the twists and turns and ever shifting arrangements that make up these convoluted epics. Most of the songs here spend the majority of their time blasting along furiously, the guitars dense and jagged, the drumming impossibly mathy and complex, the melodies mournful and intricate, but the band continually mix things up, whether it's a sudden shift into a soaring melodic crooned breakdown, or a warped bit of folky flutter, or exploding into a totally epic almost psychedelic blast of heart-of-the-sun black majesty.
MPEG Stream: "The Beast Within"
MPEG Stream: "Templars Of The Black Sun"

OUR LOVE WILL DESTROY THE WORLD / BARK HAZE split (Krayon Recordings) 7" 10.98
One of two new mini-missives from Our Love Will Destroy The World, the project of ex-Birchville Cat Motel kingpin Campbell Kneale, who it seems might be positioning his OLWDTW project to eventually be as prolific as the sadly defunct BCM. Elsewhere on this list you'll find a new tape from Our Love, but this 7" matches up Kneale with Bark Haze, the duo of Gown's Andrew McGregor and Thurston Moore from Sonic Youth.
The Bark Haze side is pretty fantastic, noisy, but soft noise, and more drone-y than anything, warm processed guitars, looped and layered, thick and textured, wrapped in warped and warbly effects, pretty mesmerizing and dreamlike, at least until the very end, where the duo shut it down with a bit of high end tangled psych guitar skree.
Our Love Will Destroy The World have crafted a sound, that takes the divine ur-drone of Birchville, and tosses in more of everything, a maximal swirling assemblage of sound upon sound upon sound, drone-y and noisy, but also space-y and groovy, and tripped out and psychedelic. The track begins with buzzing backwards sitars, stuttering acoustic guitars, keening high end riffage, plenty of muted crunch, a super spare abstract 'beat', definitely employing OLWDTW's more is more compositional strategy, adding layer after layer, which in other hands might end up being too much, but the cacophony is softened by Kneale's deft arrangement. The result is like sticking your hand in a sonic supercollider, your ears being bombarded by a million musical particles, an atomic shower of shards and fragments of amps and guitars and samples and synths and effects. So good!

PYRAMIDO Sand (Total Rust) cd 13.98
Besides having an awesome logo, and killer creepy elephant cover art, these filthy Swedes have conjured up a seriously brutal, and weirdly groovy slab of sludge-y doom. Exploding out of a swirling storm of whipping winds that open the disc, these guys waste no time in getting down to it. IT being some gut punching, ear destroying heaviness. We were actually expecting something much less musical, much more abstract and slooooow, Moss, Bunkur, Khanate, that sort of thing, and while it does get downright glacial now and again, Pyramido mostly traffic in something much more groovy and stonery, think Electric Wizard, Church Of Misery, Cough, Eyehategod, Bongzilla, Green Machine...
In fact, Pyramido totally sound like they came straight out of New Orleans, that distinctly NOLA groove, but here that sounds is twisted up a bit, given a little blackness, a little crustiness, the songs stretched out a bit more, the groove not so much the focus as simply part of the sound, a sound that is a HUGE, churning, pounding, downtuned beastly thing. The guitars thick and corrosive, the drums a Cro-Magnon pound, vocals buried in the mix, always on the verge of cracking, a throat shredding howl, and within these blackly groovy, crust laden jams, lurk not only some serious hooks, but some fucking KILLER riffs, and although it doesn't make sense, music like this is often bereft of actual great riffage.
Slow, low, sludgy and brutal as fuck, by now it should be obvious if this is your cup of muck, it most definitely is ours...
MPEG Stream: "2 Years 8 Months 21 Days"
MPEG Stream: "Calculating Doom"

WRIGHT, PETER Snow Blind (Install) 2cd 21.00
We haven't heard from New Zealand dronescaper Peter Wright in about a year. Well, it's been at least that long since we've reviewed one of his discs. Somehow two other Wright discs slipped through the cracks in that time though, which is a shame, since pretty much everything we've heard from Wright is fantastic. This latest double disc is no different.
Nine looooooong tracks spread out over two discs, most in the 15-20 minute range, which is ideal for Wright's slow building, slow burning drone-epics, allowing for plenty of time to drift and shimmer and buzz and whir and rumble.
The first disc opens as disembodied voices float above and within thick swells of grinding melodic buzz, smoothed out into undulating sonic sheets, feedback is dulled and blunted and transformed into warm ambience, the raga-like buzz sprawls out seemingly endlessly, this is Wright at his heaviest and most aggressive, the tones taking on a timbre not that far removed from Nadja's doomic crush, but Wright approaches that sound from another direction entirely.
The rest of disc one is much more serene, minimal and hushed, a slow swirling ambient shimmer, delicate and crystalline, which over the course of two tracks and nearly 40 minutes manages to slip from hushed whisper to smoldering whir, glowing hotter and hotter but never letting loose, until the 6 minute closer gets all riffy, the guitars blindingly distorted, but remaining soft and warm and hauntingly melancholic.
The second disc is the perfect second movement, shifting from warm effects drenched drifts to deep subterranean rumbles, from sun dappled cinematic ambience to reverbed minimal mood music and finally to full on crumbling corrosive blown out crunch, with weirdly decaying distortion, strange strangled guitars, thick swaths of blurred buzz, and gorgeous chiming tones ringing out in the background.
Yet another collection of divine drones and sublime minimal soundscaping from the inimitable Peter Wright. Needless to say, absolutely gorgeous, and for the droneminded among you, most likely essential.
MPEG Stream: "The Drunken Master In His Crumbling Citadel"
MPEG Stream: "Apakura"

GOG Mist From The Random More (Utech Records) cd 14.98
In a world (our world at least) full to overflowing with drone records, dirge records, doom records, and yes, dirgedoomdrone records, the mysterious Gog have somehow always managed to transcend. From their very first release, the subtly spectacular Noriah Mills, Gog have continued to mine similar territory as so many other soundmakers, but with the resultant whole so much more than its constituent parts.
The music of Gog, while on the surface, perhaps seemingly simple, minimal, abstract, is the sort of sound that requires deep listening, upon which, the guitars then reveal themselves as so much more than electronic tone generators, the long strands of feedback and the layers of dense billowy buzz, so much more than just texture and timbre. And while on past releases, the band hinted at something a bit more black, their occasionally blissed out ambience drifting into darker and darker greys, on Mist From The Random More, the band have fully committed, creating what for them is a haunting otherworldly black metal suite, a droned out, blissed out, buzz drenched, almost static expanse of smoldering grimness, shot through with glimmering glistening effulgence, a bit like wrapping a black gauze around an exploding sun, the results, again, transcendent.
The record begins with a gorgeous, slow burning bit of guitar drone, that owes more to the kosmiche sounds of krautdrone than the downtuned glacial fug of more doom-ed entities. These guitars soar and shimmer, warm gouts of feedback enfolded by deep rich sheets of coruscating soft focus heaviness, any other band would stretch this out to fill up a whole album, and rightfully so, we'd probably be gushing just as much if Gog chose to do the same thing, but these Sunroof-ian solar sonics are only part of Gog's grand vision for Mist From The Random More.
The title track, taking up the bulk of the record, finds Gog fully immersing themselves in black metal, or at least their (very) loose approximation of what black metal is, or could be. The sound is grim, and frosty, but only in the sense that it reflects much of the black metal that came before, in every other way, it's anything but, the guitars glow, the riffs are fluid, organic, wrapped in a soft burnished buzz, that reminds us a bit of Jesu or Nadja, but the arrangement is more Necks. In fact, a shorthand descriptor might be "a black metal Necks", which if you're anything like us, would be all it would take. Simple skittery minimal drumming, almost looped sounding if it weren't so abstract, beneath a roiling cloud of layered guitars, grinding and whirring and hissing, and within that cloud, some gorgeously melancholic low end melodies, difficult to describe the strange blend of loveliness and heaviness, but there it is, a distinctly lovely heaviness, washed out and blurry, and hypnotic and epic and melodic, within this seemingly static structure, the sound swings and slips through various incarnations, moving from total blurred buzz, to a more slowcore lope, always wreathed in swirling clouds of blackened shimmer, until the end, when the track explodes in climax of effects drenched psychedelic churn.
The closing track offers a chance to decompress, a strange assemblage of soothing tones, shot through with streaks of feedback, very cool and clinical, almost a Raster-Noton sort of sound, there's a brief burst of super distorted crumbling sonic chaos, almost Merzbowian in its intensity, transforming into a haunting post industrial doomscape, before again returning to the relative tranquility of the first few minutes, eventually leaving just a single upper register tone, which also finally fades into the shadows.
Another fantastic record from Utech (after a whole mess of incredible releases, including last list's Aluk Todolo Record Of The Week), gorgeous packaging, an abstract skull, rendered in some kind of white dust (cocaine?), on a spare black background, a gatefold with printed liner notes inside, and yes, probably limited...
MPEG Stream: "Night Zoe"
MPEG Stream: "Mist From The Random More"

ALUK TODOLO Finsternis (Utech Records) cd 14.98
It's been two long years we've been waiting for this, another mysterious rhythmic communique from French blackened post krautrock alchemists Aluk Todolo. But it's not like they've been idle. Since 2007's Descension, two thirds of Aluk Todolo have recorded a record and toured the world as Gunslingers, and all of Aluk Todolo do double duty in French black metallers Diamatregon, who recently released a new full length on tUMULt called Crossroad.
But as much as we love those other two bands, and we do, there will always be something magical about the strange sonic world Aluk Todolo are able to conjure up. Especially considering they're a three piece, a power trio, drums, guitar, bass. Nothing else, no synths, no strings, just the basic rock band instruments. It's testament to the power these three wield, that they can do so much with so little. Or more accurately, so little with so little. As the music of Aluk Todolo, is disarmingly simple, subtle and minimal, but in its minimalism, lies its power. The power of rhythm, of texture, of mood, these five long pieces are so evocative, so expressive and strangely emotional. Even at its most spare and skeletal, the sound is palpable, almost a physical presence, which is surprising again considering just how stripped down Finsternis actually is.
Descension, Aluk Todolo's debut, was heavy and space-y and rhythmic, we described it as a buzz-less black metal, some of the songs were thick and caustic, others were loping and motorik, but on Finsternis, it's as if the band decided to strip away all the extraneous sounds, leaving just the core, the root, the heart of the music, and that heart beats out a simple, hypnotic rhythm.
The record is split into 4 parts, with a brief interlude, but those four parts are split into two distinct movements. The first, which comprises the first two parts, is much of what we described above, simple skeletal rhythms, surrounded by minimal guitar whir, bursts of grinding distortion, fragmented jangle, keening feedback, but it's all about the rhythm. After a brief burst of mathy chaos, the track reverts to its initial rhythm, this time the bass more prominent, fuzzy, distorted, woozy and mesmerizing, the band locked in tight, the bass and drums solid and unwavering, while the guitar sings in the background, moaning and keening and howling, giving the track an ominous otherworldly vibe, a trudge across some hostile alien landscape, a weary, washed out deathmarch.
Then the interlude, a haunting abstract percussive sprawl, simple percussive thuds set amidst a sea of warped distorted low end, bits of glitch and hiss, and grinding shards of industrial clatter, which gives way to the second, noisier movement, the drums transformed into a simple machinelike pound, snare and cymbal crashing over and over and over, the guitars whipped into a frenzy of blurred buzz and warped swirling blackened chaos, what at first sounds noisy and harsh, soon reveals itself as strangely textural, and as hypnotic as the more stripped down first movement, the guitars slip from monochromatic whir, to insectoid black metal riffing, constantly swirling around the motorik pound and pummel, the final track finds the guitars slipping into ever higher registers, blissing out, laced with feedback, smoothing out into warm smears and blurs, before a brief deconstruction, and a surprisingly tranquil last few minutes, the drums back to a woozy lope, the guitar offering up warm swells and shimmering thrum, the bass throbbing beneath, eventually stumbling to a halt in a cloud of creaking metals and static-like tape hiss. Woah.
Just like Descension, Finsternis is an intense and emotional journey through sound, a haunting and hard to describe exploration of rhythm, mood and texture, a slow shifting otherworld defined by This Heat, Geronimo, Laddio Bolocko, Can, Faust, accessible only via the three shadowy figures that make up Aluk Todolo, whose magic and mystery has been rendered in these glorious black rhythms.
Housed in a multi panel jacket with super striking original artwork by Stephen Kasner, on the always impressive Utech label (whose other two new releases, from Gog and Olivier Dumont, we'll review on the next list, although we do have both in stock if you want 'em, and we're fairly sure you do!).
MPEG Stream: "Premier Contact"
MPEG Stream: "Deuxieme Contact"
MPEG Stream: "Totalite"

FIELD, THE Yesterday And Today (Anti / Kompakt) cd 15.98
The Field's 2007 album From Here We Go Sublime caught many people by surprise, and we were happy to find ourselves included in that crowd of Field supporters. This was a minimal techno record playing the part of a pop album, through sleights of hand that extracted the sappiest moments of the '80s without appearing the part of the ironist. In pixel-painted blurs of entrancing melodies and soothing ambient warmth, The Field offered nostalgia without having a damn Lionel Richie song stuck in your head. Yup, one of the more memorable samples from From Here We Go Sublime was a wistful guitar lead from Richie's "Hello." In a lot of ways, The Field reached a pinnacle for Kompakt's Pop Ambient strategies, easily surpassing perhaps the album that started it all: Gas' Pop.
Jump two years down the line and several trips around the world, The Field returns with a second album that shouldn't disappoint those who were held rapt by the debut. Yesterday and Today has much of the restrained crescendos of velvety hypnosis grafted onto the steel girds of German engineered techno. Yes, we do know that The Field's Axel Willner is from Sweden, but the heart and soul of the motorik pulse is firmly rooted in Germany. Neu!, Kraftwerk, Cluster, Basic Channel, and of course, Kompakt are the obvious references in the formal structures of The Field, with his source material being those misty-eyed remembrances of music's past. If there are specific samples to be recognized in Yesterday and Today, they are not overt and obvious; but the sentiment is still the same. Nice.
The vinyl version includes a cd of the album as well!
MPEG Stream: "Leave It"
MPEG Stream: "I Have The Moon, You Have The Internet"
MPEG Stream: "Yesterday & Today"

FIELD, THE Yesterday And Today (Anti / Kompakt) 2lp+cd 19.98
The Field's 2007 album From Here We Go Sublime caught many people by surprise, and we were happy to find ourselves included in that crowd of Field supporters. This was a minimal techno record playing the part of a pop album, through sleights of hand that extracted the sappiest moments of the '80s without appearing the part of the ironist. In pixel-painted blurs of entrancing melodies and soothing ambient warmth, The Field offered nostalgia without having a damn Lionel Richie song stuck in your head. Yup, one of the more memorable samples from From Here We Go Sublime was a wistful guitar lead from Richie's "Hello." In a lot of ways, The Field reached a pinnacle for Kompakt's Pop Ambient strategies, easily surpassing perhaps the album that started it all: Gas' Pop.
Jump two years down the line and several trips around the world, The Field returns with a second album that shouldn't disappoint those who were held rapt by the debut. Yesterday and Today has much of the restrained crescendos of velvety hypnosis grafted onto the steel girds of German engineered techno. Yes, we do know that The Field's Axel Willner is from Sweden, but the heart and soul of the motorik pulse is firmly rooted in Germany. Neu!, Kraftwerk, Cluster, Basic Channel, and of course, Kompakt are the obvious references in the formal structures of The Field, with his source material being those misty-eyed remembrances of music's past. If there are specific samples to be recognized in Yesterday and Today, they are not overt and obvious; but the sentiment is still the same. Nice.
The vinyl version includes a cd of the album as well!
MPEG Stream: "Leave It"
MPEG Stream: "I Have The Moon, You Have The Internet"
MPEG Stream: "Yesterday & Today"

L'ACEPHALE The Book Of Lies (Parasitic) 7" 4.50
Yet another new (to us at least) release from Northwestern apocalyptic folk / black metal horde L'Acephale, whose new record Stahlhartes we raved about on the last list. These two tracks were recorded back in 2005, when this record was actually released, predating even their first demo / full length Mord Und Totsclag.
And anyone who dug either or both L'Acephale's records will probably need this too. Both tracks unreleased, exclusive to this single, not so much folk here, instead, barring some creepy choral intros and a haunting ambient hymn like outro, this is full on raw and harsh old school black metal, furious and frenetic, pounding and thrashing and blasting, the vocals chaotic and off kilter, the riffage brittle and buzzy, the drums dense and often buried in the mix. There are some strange arrangements, some almost militaristic breakdowns, a bit of post rocky mathiness here and there, but those moments are subtle and barely discernible within L'Acephale's blown out sonic squall, a furious and relentless, grim and blackened two part plague delivered from the depths... glorious, soul shearing pestilence in sound.
Beautiful packaging, a black and red gatefold sleeve, with lyrics, credits, some amazing black and white photos of skulls and catacombs, also a printed insert, pressed on red vinyl, and limited to 1000 copies, each one hand numbered (and the numbers are getting up there, so odds are these are almost gone).

PATTON, MIKE Crank High Voltage OST (Lakeshore) cd 17.98
We could go on and on and on about our undying love for the first Crank movie, easily THE most deliriously over the top action movie EVER. Filmed super stylistically as well, so the high (low) concept is reflected by the film stock and speed and angles. For those living under a rock, the movie revolves around a hitman, who is drugged and left for dead, the drug slows down his heart, eventually causing his death, but hellbent on revenge, our 'hero' manages to finds unique and inventive ways of keeping his adrenaline up and thus stay alive, in order to exact his revenge. He does lots of drugs, risks life and limb, fucks with cops, picks fights with gangs, fucks his girlfriend in the middle of Chinatown, but eventually SPOILER WARNING! He falls from a helicopter calling his girlfriend on the way down.
Fast forward to Crank High Voltage, only to discover, somehow he did not die, instead, he was spirited off by Asian gangsters, who remove his heart, replacing it with an artificial heart hooked up to a battery, with an hour's worth of charge. The hook this time around is, he needs to continually charge himself up, while he tries to track down his heart and have it put back in. Far fetched? For sure. But that's the joy of these movies. And who better to score a movie like this than Mr. Mike Patton. But instead of doing crazy voices, and wild shrieking weirdness, Patton has crafted a super weird, ultra varied, practically perfect soundtrack, alternately heavy, freaky, skittery, metallic, jazzy, it is a soundtrack after all, so removed from the images, a little is lost, but this soundtrack stands up pretty well. In fact, besides being blown away by the movie, the first thing we all thought afterwards was "we need to get this soundtrack". So here it is.
The best part is our hero's theme, a simple 6 note melody, that resurfaces throughout the movie in different forms, it's catchy as all get out, appropriately ominous and minor key, and definitely suits the spirit of the character. Beyond that, Patton has cooked up a wild imaginative hodge podge of sonic cues, mini jams, micro epics, dark mood music, and everything in between. Which is important since in the film, the action is all over the place, flitting from extreme violence, to dying-heart stupor, beaten to a pulp wooziness, to recently recharged hyperactivity, and Patton comes whips up the perfect killer jams to accompany the various moods and scenes.
Skittery industrial weirdness wrapped around that main theme, and peppered with circusy synths and spacey effects giving way to pounding punk rock, a creeping moody crawl, chugging muted guitar, chiming melodies, interrupted by bursts of pounding drums, string swells, and thick metallic guitars, groovy sunshine-y almost jungle beneath twangy Summertime guitar and crooned female vox and handclaps, moody Morricone-ish twang and drift, funky retro porno grooves, mysterious Old West style flute flecked accordion weirdness that transforms into a creepy polka, grinding digital metal, with lots of stops and starts, warped and warbly sound effects draped over super haunting vocals whirs and whoops, Jew's harp jams and glitchy electronics, plenty of glitchy stuttery abstract hip hop, tolling bells over distant rumbles and on and on and on. Fans of Fantomas, especially the soundtrackier stuff will probably dig, and folks who are sometimes put off by Patton's wild vocalizing, might just dig this big time.
Needless to say, you should definitely buy this, but you should also see both movies, they're puerile, over the top, hyper violent, and funny as fuck. And they look AMAZING. Be warned though, the first film is much more 'cute', it definitely has a heart of (tarnished) gold, while the second one is much more meanspirited and harsh, but hell, as far as outrageous super stylized ridiculously impossible and hilariously brutal action movies go, you can't beat Crank. And Patton's soundtrack is pretty much the aural equivalent. Which means, ABSOLUTELY recommended.
MPEG Stream: "Chelios"
MPEG Stream: "Sweet Cream (Redux)"
MPEG Stream: "Organ Donor"
MPEG Stream: "Juice Me"
MPEG Stream: "Surgery"
MPEG Stream: "Car Park Throwdown"

SZCZEPANIK, NICHOLAS The Chiasmus (Basses Frequences / Sentient Recognition Archive) cd 14.98
A split release between bad ass French microlabel Basses Frequencies, and Szczepanik's own Sentient Recognition Archive label, The Chiasmus is Szczepanik's latest collection of dronology, and the first proper cd we've had (quite possible his first proper cd release entirely). We've long been fans, being the dronelords and ladies we are around these parts, and past Szczepanik joints have demonstrated a mastery of the drone, creating surprisingly lush and lustrous expanses of low end minimalism. On The Chiasmus, Szczepanik continues to move ever deeper, ever darker, five long tracks, each a different variation of drone, drifting from minimal black shift, to near Pop Ambient bliss.
Record opener is cavernous, epic, Teutonic and slow shifting, peppered at the beginning with bits of glitch and hiss, the song soon settles into an uneasy sprawl, ominous and dangerously grim, but still somehow warm and expansive and enveloping. The second track shifts gears completely, unfurling a gauzy bit of chordal shimmer, all warm and sun dappled and delicate and gauzy, gentle tranquil melodies played out over minutes instead of seconds, a little Eno for sure, as the song drifts and flutters and hovers dreamily in midair. The final three tracks hover somewhere in between, deep moaning post industrial whirs laid over dense metallic buzz, the two layers slowly seeping into one another like some blackened sonic spill, deep bell like tones ring out, their tones frozen in time and stretched out into softly undulating sheets of sound, slightly reflective and iridescent and kaleidoscopic, glimmering and glistening underneath some alien black sun, and finally, a loooooooong stretch of grinding muted buzz, spreading out in slow motion, it's black shimmer infused with streaks of melody, as if some strange black seas was slowly growing warmer and coming to life before our ears.
Fantastic, gorgeous stuff. Essential listening for the drone obsessed...
MPEG Stream: "Another End Of New"
MPEG Stream: "Temporary Inundation Of Sleep By Open Windows"

GENGHIS TRON Board Up The House Remixes Vol. 5: Remixed By Nadja + Tim Hecker + Dudes You Can Trust (Crucial Blast / Relapse) 12" 11.98
Now this is the one we've been waiting for!! The final installment in the 5 part Genghis Tron remix 12" series. For some reason we only ever reviewed the Temporary Residence 12" (each was on a different label), but there were other volumes on Lovepump United, Relapse and Anticon. We're predicting (hoping for) an eventual cd compilation release, but for now, this is the GT remix record not to miss. Nadja. Tim Hecker. Not sure who Dudes You Can Trust are, but they had us at Nadja and Tim Hecker.
Hecker's mix obliterates the original, in fact, if we didn't already know it was a remix, we probably would assume it was a proper new TH track. All warm and washed out and glistening and gauzy and sun dappled and woozy and blissy and dreamy, organic and shimmery, it's the sound that everyone shoots for, but only Tim Hecker seems to have perfected. The fact that there's a Genghis Tron track in there somewhere only makes it even cooler.
Dudes You Can Trust, which we just learned is actually one of the Genghis Tron guys, most definitely have a Nadja / Jesu vibe happening, the original track is stripped down and then bathed in dense shimmer, until most of the extraneous sounds peel back, leaving just a super minimal rumbly buzz, over a looped drum fill, before slipping into a brief stretch of lo-fi Ariel Pink like FM radio drift, and then finally a bit of glitchy minimal electro (!). Weird, but cool.
Nadja's remix takes up the whole of side 2, the first half of which is all minimal and drifty, with muted electronic bloops and bleeps, subtle effects, all very abstract and ambient, barring some barely there glitchy skitter.
Eventually, bits of the original jam burst through, a pounding howling metallic crunch, that sounds like it could have been looped or processed, but there's no time to figure it out for sure, as it quickly blisses out again into a haunting swirling whoosh of blissed out almost new wave shimmer, draped delicately over the remnants of the original track. So cool.
Needless to say, essential. LIMITED as all of the volumes are, this one is pressed on wicked red and green splatter vinyl!

CROMAGNON Cave Rock (aka Orgasm) (ESP-Disk) cd 14.98
Reissued once more (like many ESP-Disks, constantly going out of and then thankfully back into print), and we are glad to have it back in our racks for sure, since this album is an all-time AQ fave and it's been gone too long. This time around, it's in a digpack with the original black & white version of the cover art, and it's been given its original title of Cave Rock instead of Orgasm. But a freaked out masterpiece by any other name...
Here's the review we first wrote about this when a previous reissued entered our collective Aquarius consciousness some years ago:
Yet another gem we somehow managed to miss, thankfully newly reissued to give us a second chance. (Well, not all of us missed it. Allan had the previously reissued version at one point, and got rid of it somehow. He just wasn't ready for it back then. Now he owns it again!) And a few of our customers have responded with the customary "Oh that record! I love that record. I've had that record for years." So for those of you, like us, managed to somehow miss it, we present to you Cromagnon.
An anomaly, even on the always far out ESP label, Cromagnon was the result of two top 40 songwriters (accustomed to producing bubblegum pop) who seemed to have completely lost their minds. I mean they must have, to produce something as wacked as this record. Austin Grasmere, Brian Elliot, and their mysterious 'Connecticut Tribe' spewed forth 50 minutes of primitive dada-ist folk psych.
Chanting, tribal percussion, short wave radio, maniacal, almost black metal vocals, hysterical laughter, bagpipes all coalesce into something ridiculous and amazing.
Track one "Caledonia" sounds like a strange hybrid of Comus and In Extremo, with bagpipes, jaw harp, crickets, raspy chants and teutonic percussion ("Caledonia" was even covered later by industrialists Test Department, and more recently by Japan's Ghost!). Later on in the record is an alternate version of "Caledonia" from the b-side of the original lp, slowed down to a third of the speed, producing an impenetratable swampy murk. "Ritual Feast of The Libido" features a groaning and moaning vocal over whirring and rumbling machinery. Then comes "Fantasy", where a faux Beach Boys intro almost convinces us that Grasmere and Elliot have returned to their bubblegum roots, that is until it devolves into a messy seven minutes of garbled laughter and clattering percussion. Today this all still seems pretty damn crazy, so back in 1968 when it was recorded it must have really freaked people out, even despite the pervasive drug culture of the time...
So for those of you who aren't already veterans of the Cromagnon experience, and definitely for those of you who were blown away by the Comus, and for everyone who is in need of a new favorite fucked record, this is it. Now, and always, a unanimous AQ fave.
MPEG Stream: "Caledonia"
MPEG Stream: "Crow Of The Black Tree"

SKULLFLOWER Vile Veil (Noiseville) lp 14.98
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
Latest burst of glorious guitar noise from Matthew Bower and his ever evolving Skullflower, not sure who plays on this one, pretty sure they're back up to a full band, 3 piece? 4 piece? What we do know, is on Vile Veil, you can finally hear Bower's burgeoning interest in black metal seeping into the Skullflower sound. The title track sounds like it could have been listed from some lost nineties Nordic demo, all tinny buzzy riffage, buried howls, drums? Maybe, but if they're there, they're well buried under the muted murk and buzz drenched skree. Weirdly propulsive and frenetic, Bower and Co. kick out the grim frostbitten jam, infusing it with their own particular brand of blown out sheen, layered with sheets of feedback, and more noise than any self respecting black metal horde has ever had to contend with, the result though it pretty stellar, the sort of buzzing black noise that should hit the spot for metalheads and noiseniks alike.
The second track is more of the same, but a bit less brittle, subtly more melodic, with the vocals creeping up in the mix, but not sounding like vocals so much as like hissy bursts of white noise static, draped over the moaning deconstructed riffage and layered high end dronescape.
The final track, a side long crusher called "Vinum Sabbati", harkens back to Bower's noisier Total project, all high end and hiss and skree and screech, soaring upper register tones and loads of feedback, but the sound is sculpted into something almost orchestral sounding, strangely listenable (it's all relative!), even a bit melodic, but all wrapped in a constantly swirling cloud of caustic sonic abrasion, intense, and dense, thick and nearly overwhelming, fantastically and punishingly epic and brutal.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES. We got a bunch, but odds are these will be gone before you know it.

V/A Open Strings (Honest Jon's) 2cd 22.00
Another amazing archival release from the seemingly infallible Honest Jon's, the fourth in their series of compilations collecting early 78s held in the EMI archives.
Open Strings, is as the title suggests, a collection of songs by virtuoso stringed instrument players, hailing from Iran, Iraq, Egypt and Turkey, all recorded in the 1920s, an incredible selection of tracks, almost entirely unheard since they were first released. And wow. Every single track here is fantastic. Folks who have been obsessing over the Sublime Frequencies series best start paying attention to Honest Jon's as well, absolutely riveting, emotional, idiosyncratic, passionate, from wild musical flights of fancy, flurries of notes, tangled melodies, to warm whirring droning ragas, to playful folky lullabies, to wild, almost psychedelic workouts, to frenzied freakouts, to dark contemplative ballads, all warm and crackly and gorgeously aged, but at the same time absolutely timeless, this is some seriously magical music, lost treasures for sure.
And although it's really unnecessary, considering how sublime the first disc is on its own, the bonus material, featuring contemporary raga / drone string players responding to the originals (without which there music would not exist, or if it did, it would be in an extremely different form) is also pretty fantastic. And no doubt, folks with very little interest in Middle Eastern string music from the 20s will probably pick this up anyway for the folks doing modern versions of said music, just check out the lineup: SIR RICHARD BISHOP, SIX ORGANS OF ADMITTANCE, STEFFEN BASHO-JUGHANS, MICHAEL FLOWER, CHARLIE PARR, BRUCE LICHER, PAUL METZGER, RICK TOMLINSON, MV & EE AND MICAH BLUE SMALLDONE. Not bad. And their interpretations/versions are quite varied and all quite cool, from dark hushed whispers, to effects laden psychedelic blowouts to longform raga buzz to delicate folky flutter. Hopefully folks who pick this up for the modern stuff, will dig deeper and discover a whole new world of sound.
The cd comes in a gorgeous printed gatefold jacket, with thick printed inner sleeves, and the vinyl, WOW. Super extravagant printed box, 4 lps in printed inner sleeves, heavy and deluxe and thus, a bit expensive, but for vinyl obsessives, probably well worth it.
MPEG Stream: MOUSTAPHA BEY RIDA "Taxim Hugaz Kar Wahda"
MPEG Stream: NECHAT BEY "Rast Taxim"
MPEG Stream: SIR RICHARD BISHOP "Olive Oasis"
MPEG Stream: CHARLIE PARR "Paul Bunyan's Fall"