FINAL Afar (Avalanche) picture disc lp 24.00
Brand new full length album from Justin Broadrick's (Jesu, Godflesh, etc.) Final project, which in the past was a sort of solo guitar thing, or so we thought. On Afar, the eight numbered tracks are arrangements of processed loops, with nary a guitar in site. Which becomes harder to believe the further we get into the record.
The sound here is dark and mesmerizing, each track a slow cycling soundscape, rife with shifting textures and pulsing almost-rhythms, the sounds super varied, but all woven together into one cohesive songsuite. Fans of Tim Hecker and Philip Jeck will dig bigtime, as well as guitar drone aficionados into stuff like Fear Falls Burning.
Layers of crunch and buzz are locked into swelling, swaying hypnotic rhythms, the textures and timbre shifting gradually, the looped aspect not always immediately noticeable. Deep rumbles beneath softly processed whirs are woven into stretches of haunting cinematic shimmer, fading into swooping backwards melodies peppered with bits of glitch and crackle. Elsewhere slow burning 'guitar' sounds buzz explosively into epic and majestic sheets of buzzing woozy blur, before being scattered by dense tangles of reverberating metallic hum and rumbling low end way off in the distance. A few tracks definitely dip into Jeck territory with stuttery looped vocals and clipped samples and muted skitter, before finishing off with a hushed bit of whispery murmur.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. We get these direct from Broadrick's Avalanche label in the UK, so when we run out it might take a couple weeks to get more, assuming there are still some left. Nice thick picture disc in a thick PVC plastic sleeve.
MPEG Stream: "Heart Ache"
MPEG Stream: "Ruined"

JESU Pale Sketches (Avalanche) lp 24.00
We missed out completely on the cd version of this, as it was only available direct from the band, we finally managed to strike up a deal with Avalanche, the record label of Justin Broadrick, so hopefully from here on out we'll be able to get anything and everything Avalanche, on this list alone we have the most recent batch of releases, Heart Ache on vinyl, a brand new Final album on picture disc, and this, a compilation of old and unreleased tracks recorded between 2000 and 2007.
Apparently, up until now, most Jesu records were made up of parts and tracks recorded in the past, so in a bid to start new and fresh, Broadrick decided to gather up everything he had, and stick it all on a record, and start from scratch.
So here it is, seven years of unreleased Jesu, and while from the above you'd think it would be mostly fragments and song parts and experiments, most of the tracks here are fully realized songs, although sonically the differ a great deal from much of the Jesu you've heard. More stripped down, way more poppy, almost new wave-y here and there, definitely not as heavy, but occasionally dark and intense, occasionally blissed out and shoegazey, and surprisingly cohesive and listenable and really great for a collections of odds and ends.
It starts out strangely enough, with "Don't Dream It", which sounds like a classic Jesu jam, except for the fact, that the vocal line is a snippet of the final number from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but Broadrick, takes that melodramatic croon and sets it amidst minor key piano, warm whirring buzz, skittery rhythms, squalls of distorted downtuned guitar crunch, and wraps the samples in delay and reverb giving it a cool dubbed out vibe.
The drums throughout are way more electronic sounding, skittery and glitchy, less POUNDing, which makes a lot of this sound almost Boards Of Canada like, but with those floaty weary vocals, and lush swaths of woozy drowsy keyboards. A couple of the tracks get all loping and post rocky, a few others are super laid back and glimmery and down tempo, like the perfect soundtrack for some mysterious late night wandering. Here and there, things do get a bit heavy, like the crunchy chug on "Dummy", although even there it's all tangled up with some stuttery almost krautrocky keyboards, but for the most part, this is a whole different side of Jesu, one we're super into, and now that we've heard it, we hear more within proper Jesu records, but with all the skitter and jangle and shimmer, this also reminds us of another past aQ favorite, the sort of post rock electronica of Asbestoscape.
Needless to say, Jesu fans NEED this. But anyone into M83, anything on Gooom, or any sort of cool skittery electronic metallic pop weirdness should definitely give it a listen as well. check it out.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES. Pressed on super thick 180 gram vinyl, and housed in swank full color gatefold jackets. Hopefully we'll be able to get more when we run out, but just in case, probably better not to risk it.
MPEG Stream: "Heart Ache"
MPEG Stream: "Ruined"

THERE GOES NEUTRO! Organelle (self-released) cd-r 8.98
We've actually been sitting on these for a while now, another victim of the too many records to review and not enough time problem we seem to perpetually have.
There Goes Neutro! is the project of aQ customer John Ira Thomas, and the minute we first heard about his Organelle record, we knew we had to hear it. One of those discs that we liked based on the description alone, having yet to hear a single note. C'mon, here's what it's all about (from the liner notes): "Thomas cut the advance frame noise from an old filmstrip record about the life of Jesus Christ, cut it into about 400 pieces, and with the magic of computers made something new out of it." Exactly. Jesus, chopped up records, noise, we knew it had to be good, or at the very least, interesting, lucky for us, it's both.
Obvious references would be Jeck and Tetreault and Basinski, especially since the main component is record crackle, and damaged vinyl, and the arrangement is a looped assemblage of stuttering chopped up bits, like a rougher more raw Oval. But it's not just hiss and crackle, the first few seconds of music are also captured, sounding a bit circusy, even more so once they get looped up and tangled. Four long tracks, all movements in one epic and fractured soundscape.
Woozy, trippy, warped and warbly and definitely a bit psychedelic. Super cool!
MPEG Stream: "Untitled 1"
MPEG Stream: "Untitled 2"

NEGURA BUNGET From Transylvanian Forest (Lupus Lounge) cd 15.98
Finally, the older earlier records from our favorite Transylvanian black metallers are getting their due, some super swank deluxe reissues packed with extras. For the longest time, we carried the cd box, which we got direct from the band in Romania, which contained Negura Bunget's first three albums and an ep. Lots of long time aQ list readers no doubt have that box, as it's some of the most essential black metal we've ever heard. But for years now, we've been unable to get those boxes back in, and now we know why. Lupus Lounge has decided to re-issue all of those records, with extra tracks, and in the case of a couple of them, extra discs containing whole extra alternate mixes of the records proper. Also, the new versions are now housed in super nice multi panel full color digipaks.
We have all four (one of the original three, was split back up into its original two separate parts) in stock, in very limited quantities, have a look at the 'in stock, not yet reviewed' section, if you want to go nuts and get all of them (and why wouldn't you?!) but for now, we're gonna list/review From Transylvanian Forest first, and get to those other ones later. And this is as good a place to start as any. An ep from 2000, which was in fact a remixed and remastered version of a demo by PRE Negura Bunget outfit Wiccan Reed, before they changed their name, but already, their unique sound was fully formed.
For those new to Negura Bunget, here's how we described the band on more recent releases: Dark, ambient rumbles evoke the spirits of the forest before the music kicks in sounding a bit like Don Cab, with spastic drums, way up in the mix while grainy guitars saw wildly away. Eventually BIGGER riffs come tumbling down like a black metal avalanche and the whole thing becomes a swirling, bloodied whirlpool of octopus-armed drumming, possessed keyboards and buzzing mosquito riffs. Occasionally the metallic fury abates allowing gently strummed acoustic guitars and field recordings to weave simple melodic soundscapes in the lulls. While there are moments of black metal familiarity here and there, there's just so much strangeness, even just in the way instruments sound or how they play certain parts. Some seriously twisted, rhythmically bizarre, completely damaged, grandiose and melancholy black metal supposedly inspired by 'Romanian mysticism'.
On From Transylvanian Forest, and all of these older records in fact, the sound isn't quite as polished and fully realized as on the newer records, it's actually a lot rougher and simplistic, but perhaps because of that, it's also a whole lot weirder, grim and creepy but damaged and freaked out. Keyboards play a much bigger part, huge swaths of buzzing melody laid over the thrashing metallic onslaught. Probably the most interesting aspect is how much Negura Bunget sometimes sounded like SF black metal legends Weakling. Whether it's the agonisingly wailed vocals, or the epic droning riffage, you know that sounding even remotely like Weakling is a REALLY good thing.
WAY WAY recommended. As are all four of the reissues!
MPEG Stream: "Vallachorum Tyranorum"
MPEG Stream: "Transilvanian Fullmoon Vampirism"

AMEN DUNES Dia (Locust) cd 14.98
When we first got this in, we were convinced it was some reissued lost psychedelic gem from the sixties or seventies. From the blurry red and black cover, the dearth of information, and heck it's on Locust, a label well known for killer reissues. So we threw it on, and we were still convinced, although we were blown away by its raw feral blown out psychedelic poppiness. Were there really bands making this sort of inspired and drug fueled racket 30 or 40 years ago? Perhaps, but Amen Dunes wasn't one of them. No, Amen Dunes is apparently the work of one man, a guy called Damon McMahon, who spent an extended stretch holed up in his house in the Catskills (although apparently now, he's holed up in his new house, in CHINA!) channeling some serious demons, and creating a brain melting, warped and distorted, fucked up and freaked out psychedelic classic.
There are definitely hints of the new wave of noise rock, all that shit gaze stuff, and lo-fi garage, Eat Skull, Psychedelic Horseshit, Wavves, Oh Sees, etc, but Amen Dunes' sound is much more old school, going all the way back to drugged out sonic visionaries like Roky Erickson and George Brigman and the like.
Super distorted, everything doused in reverb and delay and distortion, the recording super lo-fi, tape hiss all over the place, murky and muddy, and gloriously fuggy, the vocals slipping from feral shriek, to swoonsome moan, to almost Beach Boys like croon, but even at their most melodic, they remain a bit off kilter, slightly ominous, the rantings of some inspired lunatic right on the edge. The music is rough and raw, but catchy as hell, guitars buzz and jangle, detuned into bizarre Eastern sounding modalities or whipped up into a frenzied squall of Hendrixian freakout. The bass is a huge part of the sound too, rubbery and warm, thick and undulating, sometimes just offering up a layer of deep rumble, other times creating some truly haunting melodic counterpoint. The drums are simple and sporadic, a shuffling pound, a minimal skitter, a loose rickety framework for the Dunes' constantly-on-the-verge-of-collapse echo drenched drone pop, a sort of chilled out Dead C vibe permeates the proceedings as well, a way more damaged and even more druggy Velvets vibe too, all of this shit through with some old timey folkiness, it's a bit of a hodge podge, but it works.
The fractured looped psych drone weirdness of "Fleshless Esta Mira Wife Of Spades" is followed by the almost countryish "Patagonian Domes", before the woozy atonal Supreme Dicks worship of "By The Bridal", with some serious shades of Neutral Milk Hotel (we kid you not).
The rest of the record is equally as tripped out and all over the place, while managing to sound like an actual record, not just a collection of songs. "White Lace" is a gorgeous chunk of softly strummed murk, with super catchy vocals, layers of hiss and buzz, and a smattering of strange electronics, "Castles" is total Laurel Canyon country folk, but infused with just a little more pathos, the vocals a super gorgeous, on the verge of cracking wail, the hand claps, shakers and simple strumming underpinned by a warm wheezing organ. A handful of the songs sound almost Beatles-esque, super classic jangly pop, just barely psychedelic, with the guitars subtly warped, but the killer hooks totally intact, and then the record closes with "Breaker", maybe one of the most moving and intense tracks on the record, the musical accompaniment, minimal, simple softly strummed guitar, and some soft organ shimmer, but the vocals, so impassioned and emotional, raw and way up front, melodic and intense, howling and wailing, with multiple voices multitracked into a gorgeous wavery, fractured two part harmony, that ends up sounding like some sort of outsider gospel music. Totally inspirational, mind blowing, rocking, catchy, darkly mysterious... Easily one of our favorite records of the year so far!!
MPEG Stream: "Amen Dunes"
MPEG Stream: "Miami Beach"
MPEG Stream: "Fleshless Esta Mira Wife Of Space"
MPEG Stream: "Patagonian Domes"
MPEG Stream: "Breaker"

AMEN DUNES Dia (Locust) lp 17.98
When we first got this in, we were convinced it was some reissued lost psychedelic gem from the sixties or seventies. From the blurry red and black cover, the dearth of information, and heck it's on Locust, a label well known for killer reissues. So we threw it on, and we were still convinced, although we were blown away by its raw feral blown out psychedelic poppiness. Were there really bands making this sort of inspired and drug fueled racket 30 or 40 years ago? Perhaps, but Amen Dunes wasn't one of them. No, Amen Dunes is apparently the work of one man, a guy called Damon McMahon, who spent an extended stretch holed up in his house in the Catskills (although apparently now, he's holed up in his new house, in CHINA!) channeling some serious demons, and creating a brain melting, warped and distorted, fucked up and freaked out psychedelic classic.
There are definitely hints of the new wave of noise rock, all that shit gaze stuff, and lo-fi garage, Eat Skull, Psychedelic Horseshit, Wavves, Oh Sees, etc, but Amen Dunes' sound is much more old school, going all the way back to drugged out sonic visionaries like Roky Erickson and George Brigman and the like.
Super distorted, everything doused in reverb and delay and distortion, the recording super lo-fi, tape hiss all over the place, murky and muddy, and gloriously fuggy, the vocals slipping from feral shriek, to swoonsome moan, to almost Beach Boys like croon, but even at their most melodic, they remain a bit off kilter, slightly ominous, the rantings of some inspired lunatic right on the edge. The music is rough and raw, but catchy as hell, guitars buzz and jangle, detuned into bizarre Eastern sounding modalities or whipped up into a frenzied squall of Hendrixian freakout. The bass is a huge part of the sound too, rubbery and warm, thick and undulating, sometimes just offering up a layer of deep rumble, other times creating some truly haunting melodic counterpoint. The drums are simple and sporadic, a shuffling pound, a minimal skitter, a loose rickety framework for the Dunes' constantly-on-the-verge-of-collapse echo drenched drone pop, a sort of chilled out Dead C vibe permeates the proceedings as well, a way more damaged and even more druggy Velvets vibe too, all of this shit through with some old timey folkiness, it's a bit of a hodge podge, but it works.
The fractured looped psych drone weirdness of "Fleshless Esta Mira Wife Of Spades" is followed by the almost countryish "Patagonian Domes", before the woozy atonal Supreme Dicks worship of "By The Bridal", with some serious shades of Neutral Milk Hotel (we kid you not).
The rest of the record is equally as tripped out and all over the place, while managing to sound like an actual record, not just a collection of songs. "White Lace" is a gorgeous chunk of softly strummed murk, with super catchy vocals, layers of hiss and buzz, and a smattering of strange electronics, "Castles" is total Laurel Canyon country folk, but infused with just a little more pathos, the vocals a super gorgeous, on the verge of cracking wail, the hand claps, shakers and simple strumming underpinned by a warm wheezing organ. A handful of the songs sound almost Beatles-esque, super classic jangly pop, just barely psychedelic, with the guitars subtly warped, but the killer hooks totally intact, and then the record closes with "Breaker", maybe one of the most moving and intense tracks on the record, the musical accompaniment, minimal, simple softly strummed guitar, and some soft organ shimmer, but the vocals, so impassioned and emotional, raw and way up front, melodic and intense, howling and wailing, with multiple voices multitracked into a gorgeous wavery, fractured two part harmony, that ends up sounding like some sort of outsider gospel music. Totally inspirational, mind blowing, rocking, catchy, darkly mysterious... Easily one of our favorite records of the year so far!!
MPEG Stream: "Amen Dunes"
MPEG Stream: "Miami Beach"
MPEG Stream: "Fleshless Esta Mira Wife Of Space"
MPEG Stream: "Patagonian Domes"
MPEG Stream: "Breaker"

EAT SKULL Wild And Inside (Siltbreeze) lp 15.98
NOW ON VINYL!
Something happened to Eat Skull on the way to making Wild And Inside. It seems like only yesterday we were extolling their ramshackle fucked up-ness, their last record Sick To Death, a serious bid to rule the burgeoning 'shit-gaze' scene, populated by folks like Times New Viking, Psychedelic Horseshit, and similarly fucked up noisepop deconstructionists. So we were sort of expecting Wild And Inside to be even MORE damaged and fractured, fucked up and noisy, but instead, it's jam packed with perfect pop gems, lo-fi for sure, and definitely still ramshackle, but jangly and catchy and dripping with irresistible hooks.
Similar to how Further worshipped unabashedly at the altar of the Beach Boys on their Golden Grimes record, on Wild And Inside, Eat Skull seem to be flitting from pop group to pop group, whether it's Guided By Voices, the Lemonheads, Strapping Fieldhands, dour eighties new wave or those Nuggets psych pop collections, it seems like the band spent all the time between records just absorbing all sorts of nineties indie rock, old school jangle pop, classic power pop, and whatever else they could lay their ears on, and now they're just letting it all sort of ooze out, and in the process they've most definitely made it their own.
In interviews, Eat Skull frontman Rob Enbom claims, this is what they were shooting for all along, that the first record sounded the way it did because they were broke and were stuck with super shitty equipment, and while that may be true to a certain extent, there's some seriously superior pop smithery happening on Wild And Inside, it's not hard to imagine what this record might have sounded like with all the grit and grime cleared away, and if they had recorded in a real studio, but who the hell would want to hear that? Eat Skull sound fine just the way they are, noisy and poppy and sloppy and lo-fi, every song a gorgeously hook filled sunshine-y effects laden fractured and fuzzy noise pop gem.
Folks who were into the sheer mayhem and caustic crumbling noise damage of the first record might be a bit disappointed, but so what, there's plenty of that to be found elsewhere these days, for the rest of us, it's kind of refreshing to get a glimpse of the pop magic so often obscured.
MPEG Stream: "Stick To The Formula"
MPEG Stream: "Cooking A Way To Be Happy"
MPEG Stream: "Heaven's Stranger"
MPEG Stream: "You're With A Thing"

FERRARO, JAMES Discovery (Holy Mountain) lp 14.98
Don't be confused, it may look the same, but in fact, it's the second of two lp reissues from James Ferraro, one half of floor core legends the Skaters. We reviewed his Clear lp on our last list, this time it's Discovery, almost the exact same cover, the alien pyramids floating in some strange sea, only the name of the record is different (and don't trust the sticker, on about half of the lps we got the stickers were all switched up), although really it barely matters, as the sounds on Discovery, sound very much like the ones on Clear, which make sense as they are archival recordings from about the same time period.
Two side long jams, exploring that alien new age only those Skaters guys seem capable of, this one sounds like two parts of the same jam, equal parts new age swoosh, staticky old AM radio and alien soap opera theme music, all blurred and smeared into a weirdly organic warped and warbly drift. Bleary and blown out, glistening and glimmery, a buried krautrock groove, that seems to fade out and return at random, all imbued with a cool psychedelic eighties B-movie Goblin vibe.
The flipside is more of the same, only a bit more rocking, more feedback and distortion, but just barely, the guitars a tad more noodly and spidery, but all the sounds still washed out and sun dappled and hypnotic. Like Clear before it, Discovery is a fantastic chunk of blissed out Baywatch new age, and here's hoping Holy Mountain keeps digging up and reissuing these tripped out artifacts.
Comes with a download card too, so you can get iPod-able versions of these tracks as well!!

VASELINES Enter The Vaselines (Sub Pop) 2cd 14.98
Our definition of pure pop perfection would have to be Scotland's Vaselines! They embody everything a perfect pop band should be. They are charming and clever, dirty and sweet, sensitive and sassy. They have the ability to rock out or get all dreamy with equal potency. Coinciding with their reunion tour that will find them playing San Francisco in just a few days, Sub Pop has compiled pretty much all of their material onto this 2 disc collection. The first disc includes all of their studio recordings (the Son Of A Gun EP, the Dying For It EP, and the full length Dum Dum). The bonus disc includes three demo versions and two live shows from '86 and '88. Fair warning to fans, the first disc is identical to the Vaselines collection that came out a few years back, so if you have that, you'll be getting this for the demos and live stuff on disc two. Or cause you want it on vinyl, if you opt for that format. And if you have no Vaselines, well, needless to say this is ESSENTIAL.
Now that we have all that out of the way we can go back to gushing about why The Vaselines are the perfect pop band and how they pretty much influenced all the rad underground (and overground) pop stuff we've loved in the decades since they first hit the scene. Nirvana, Belle And Sebastian, Yo La Tengo, Hole, Vivian Girls, Beck, Dum Dum Girls, The Breeders and so many more owe so much of their sound, style and aesthetic to the Vaselines and everything they created during their short existence from 1986-1990. They predated the era when indie bands began to experience more widespread success and appreciation, but their songs and style pretty much set the blueprint for the alternative nation that would explode in the years following their breakup.
Listening to these songs is like hearing some crazy greatest hits collection as every single song is so totally classic and memorable, hard to believe that it's actually just their complete discography. Every song was truly unique and so goddamn catchy. Some of their songs were popularized when Kurt Cobain declared his undying love of the Vaselines and had Nirvana cover "Son Of A Gun", "Molly's Lips" and "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam". The Vaselines had a charisma that makes their songs appeal to such a wide cross section of music fans. They are the band K records wish they could have had, and have been trying to sign ever since. The Vaselines had the wit and smarts so many of their Glasgow followers try a little too hard to emulate, but most of all they had SONGS, songs that are so damn endearing and so completely timeless!
MPEG Stream: "Son Of A Gun"
MPEG Stream: "You Think You're A Man"
MPEG Stream: "Jesus Wants Be For A Sunbeam"
MPEG Stream: "Let's Get Ugly (Live)"

VASELINES Enter The Vaselines (Sub Pop) 3lp 23.00
Our definition of pure pop perfection would have to be Scotland's Vaselines! They embody everything a perfect pop band should be. They are charming and clever, dirty and sweet, sensitive and sassy. They have the ability to rock out or get all dreamy with equal potency. Coinciding with their reunion tour that will find them playing San Francisco in just a few days, Sub Pop has compiled pretty much all of their material onto this 2 disc collection. The first disc includes all of their studio recordings (the Son Of A Gun EP, the Dying For It EP, and the full length Dum Dum). The bonus disc includes three demo versions and two live shows from '86 and '88. Fair warning to fans, the first disc is identical to the Vaselines collection that came out a few years back, so if you have that, you'll be getting this for the demos and live stuff on disc two. Or cause you want it on vinyl, if you opt for that format. And if you have no Vaselines, well, needless to say this is ESSENTIAL.
Now that we have all that out of the way we can go back to gushing about why The Vaselines are the perfect pop band and how they pretty much influenced all the rad underground (and overground) pop stuff we've loved in the decades since they first hit the scene. Nirvana, Belle And Sebastian, Yo La Tengo, Hole, Vivian Girls, Beck, Dum Dum Girls, The Breeders and so many more owe so much of their sound, style and aesthetic to the Vaselines and everything they created during their short existence from 1986-1990. They predated the era when indie bands began to experience more widespread success and appreciation, but their songs and style pretty much set the blueprint for the alternative nation that would explode in the years following their breakup.
Listening to these songs is like hearing some crazy greatest hits collection as every single song is so totally classic and memorable, hard to believe that it's actually just their complete discography. Every song was truly unique and so goddamn catchy. Some of their songs were popularized when Kurt Cobain declared his undying love of the Vaselines and had Nirvana cover "Son Of A Gun", "Molly's Lips" and "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam". The Vaselines had a charisma that makes their songs appeal to such a wide cross section of music fans. They are the band K records wish they could have had, and have been trying to sign ever since. The Vaselines had the wit and smarts so many of their Glasgow followers try a little too hard to emulate, but most of all they had SONGS, songs that are so damn endearing and so completely timeless!
MPEG Stream: "Son Of A Gun"
MPEG Stream: "You Think You're A Man"
MPEG Stream: "Jesus Wants Be For A Sunbeam"
MPEG Stream: "Let's Get Ugly (Live)"

NEKRASOV / MOON / NEKROS MANTEIA The Haunting Resonance (Fall Of Nature) cd 14.98
So, apparently Australia is more than just adorable animals and funny accents. No, many bands from Australia are simply scary as shit! And what better way to throw yourself headfirst into the maelstrom than with this KILLER 3 way split, featuring some of the island continent's most depressive and unsettling blackened exports?
The Haunting Resonance is, as the liner notes briefly explain, a conceptual album "regarding the matter of ghosts, spirits, and phantoms" and what role, if any, they would play if the earth was wiped clean of all humanity. Pretty upbeat stuff, huh? And while it is impossible to discern just what is being sung, the music more than ably conveys this dark subject matter.
Nekrasov, whose awesome Tramp And Void ep is reviewed elsewhere on this list, inaugurates the affair with "That Which Hunts...", a burly juggernaut of a song combining Wolf Eyes-styled electronic terrorism with esoteric black metal. This song is like a continuously swirling black hole, constantly turning on and devouring itself. The song shifts, without a moments notice, from creepy, slow moving ambience to full on black metal fury, with gothy keyboards smeared across the landscape. The end result is like the soundtrack to dying alone in the wilderness, where instead of finding some source of divine strength, you simply realize that this is it. The last half of this psychedelically informed piece is a haunting, droney loop with all kinds of high end to make you nice and uncomfortable. Its repetition is its unsuspecting source of power, and before long, you are lulled into a trance where you are powerless to do anything but adjust your body to the ominous rhythms of your dying breaths.
The middle part of the trilogy is represented by Moon, who follow a similar approach to merging black metal atmospheres with more contemplative noise elements. "Forgotten Spirits" drones about as labored pulses carry the piece to a more metal (but still really weird and avant-garde) second half. While not quite as furious as Nekrasov, Moon's contribution is equally creepy and unsettling, with what may or may not be a human voice howling incessantly until the song just stops.
Bringing The Haunting Resonance to its grim conclusion is Nekros Manteia with the song "The Final Ghost". Slow, focused drums hold the foundation while delayed guitars float amongst rumbling drones. Stylistically, it makes sense when you realize the song features guitar work from Bonnie Mercer of Grey Daturas. Both bands follow a psychedelic approach that manages to sound both expansive and concentrated within its own realm of noise. Eventually, the band locks into a crusty, doom laden groove before switching to a sparse, post-rock dirge with weird, croaking vocals.
While not exactly the feel good hit of the summer, The Haunting Resonance is a worthwhile listen in its own right, and sure to appeal to those willing to explore the darker realms of noise and the more insular, lonely aspects of outsider black metal. Recommended. And apparently quite limited as well. We got a bunch of these, not sure we can get more when we run out...
MPEG Stream: NEKRASOV "That Which Hunts..."
MPEG Stream: MOON "Forgotten Spirits"

BAKER, AIDAN Gathering Blue (Equation) 2lp 30.00
It's been a (little) while since we've had some brand new Aidan Baker / Nadja for the store, thankfully this week heralds two new releases. To be reviewed next time, there's long awaited Nadja all-covers disc (which we'll tell you right now is great), and then there's this, a brand new, limited double lp from Baker solo, and as always it's a doozy, sprawling and shimmery and expansive, that sort of blissed out ambient dronemusic he does so well. But it's far from more of the same. The first track we threw on was almost jungle, with skittery beats buried beneath softly undulating layers of warm whir and deep drifts of soft swirling sound. There's also a bit of Spacemen 3 like processed psych guitar, which gives way to some buzzing raga like blur, draped over still more dreamlike dronescapes, although here, it's laced with chunks of processed alien crunch, and weird little bits of scrape and fragmented riffage.
Long stretches of underwater Oval-like wooziness, shot through with streaks of space-y effects and muted bits of glitch and buzz, some of the most washed out and wondrous space (not quite) rock ever! Warped warbly organs are stretched and smeared into warped Philip Jeck like doomy drifts, one of which is apparently a cover of Joy Division's "Twenty Four Hours", although we could only tell by the vocals, and even then, they're so hushed and barely there, that any sense of the original seems to melt into a gorgeously oozing expanse of thrum and shimmer and softly warped rumble.
Another fantastic and gorgeous and of course WAY too limited chunk of droney dreaminess from Mr. Baker. Released on the always amazing Equation Records, who really go all out with the packaging as well. Thick swirled/splattered blue vinyl, thick full color gatefold jacket, and a printed full color postcard, each of which is hand numbered, LIMITED TO 444 COPIES!

NEKRASOV Tramp And Void EP (self-released) cd-r 10.98
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
We just got in a handful of these super limited cd-rs from Australia's Nekrasov, the project of one Bob Nekrasov (no, really), formerly of Melbourne based doomsters Whitehorse, and current purveyor of abject post-industrial blackness. Tramp And Void is, as we like to say in the business, a real motherfucker. This ep is just teeming with filth and despair, the sounds within melding noisy as hell blackened ambience with super heavy black METAL. The first song is an awesome slab of crumbling electronics abuse with hateful vocals gurgling about in the slowly rumbling chaos, very cool and somewhat reminiscent of that Cities Last Broadcast cd we reviewed a while back. But when track two kicks in, it's like being launched out of an abandoned high rise and into a waiting hurricane. The sound is like a more traditionally metal WOLD meeting up with Australia's psychedelic doom/grind lords diSEMBOWELMENT. In a dog fight. Or something. Pretty intense stuff, regardless, the non-stop double kick drum gives you the impression that you ain't coming out of this one alive. Track 3 sounds like the last day of existence, with windy electronics dominating as Mr. Nekrasov spews out anguished, hateful musings until everything is overwhelmed by electronic skree. Following another vignette of slowly moving ambience, Tramp And Void concludes with an ultra depressive, mid-tempo dirge, the relentless kick drums once again letting you know there is nowhere to hide. The piece is brutal but melancholy, not to mention quite beautiful, and one of those perfect songs to end a record as you assume the fetal position and wonder what horrors await. Though brief, this ep is an intense and demanding piece of work, refusing to confine itself to any one genre in particular. That said, forward thinking metalheads will be scrambling to get their grimey hands on this one.
Again, this thing is insanely limited, not sure how many were made, but you're gonna want to act fast. Comes packaged in an awesome black and red mini-poster with an image of a forest dwelling black winged angel staring right into your soul.
MPEG Stream: "Track 1"
MPEG Stream: "Track 2"
MPEG Stream: "Track 5"

WRATH OF THE WEAK Perse (Luchtrat) 3" cd-r 15.98
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
Another way too limited release from one man blackened ultra-buzz merchant Wrath Of The Weak. As we've mentioned before in the past, before we had heard a single note, WOTW came highly recommended as perhaps THEE buzziest black metal band around, which was, and is still indeed to a certain degree the case, but as other bands are piling on the buzz, and black metal seems to be moving in a more blown out and shoegazey drone drenched direction, it's a bit tougher these days to truly be the lord of buzz.
Thankfully, WOTW is about more than just buzz, the tracks are dense and dark and thick and corrosive, often like a Wolf Eyes track transformed into black metal. Plenty of crunch, and abstract industrial whir, sheets of feedback, tracks sometimes collapsing into gorgeously grinding stretches of slow motion sprawl, haunting melodies buried beneath, everything rough and ragged and raw, but blurred into soft shapes and bleary warm sonic swells. Often not remotely black metal at all. This ep is the perfect example. The opening track is just guitars, a roiling and lush soundworld, no drums, at least none that we can hear, just a massive heaving wall of crumbling distorted crunch, wreathed in hazy clouds of buzz and hiss and whir, playing out a woozy minor key melody, but very very sloooowly, a smoldering slab of mind expanding divine and blackened space drone.
And as if to further make the case that WOTW is far from just another black metal outfit, the second track is a cover (we think) of the Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows", less black metal, and more tripped out druggy psychedelia, those distinctive drums, long spidery streaks of sitar like buzz, all the sounds softened and smeared and stretched out into totally trippy tendrils, unfurling through swirling clouds of blissed out shimmer. A black metal band would likely be your LAST guess, we're hearing White Hills, the Heads, and other modern space psych combos. And finally, the record closes with what initially sounds like what could be the blackest track of the three, but the opening riff, instead of exploding into a frenzy of blasting and buzzing, stretches out into something much more dreamy and abstract, a sort of looped guitarscape, the initial riff becoming less and less distinct, as all sorts of other sounds and overtones surface around the main melody. WAY too brief at 2 minutes, that track definitely could have been extended to make this a full length and we would have remained happily entranced.
LIMITED TO ONLY 66 COPIES!! We got a handful, and we got every copy the label had left. The cd-r's are affixed to a block of wood, and the woods is housed in a screen printed and hand sewn fabric sleeve. So nice.
MPEG Stream: "Tomorrow Never Knows"
MPEG Stream: "Untitled #73"

NADJA When I See The Sun Always Shines On TV (The End) cd 14.98
Covers records can definitely be a cop out. They're easy, and fun, and who doesn't want to just jam out to their favorite tunes. But some covers records do transcend, whether it's song choice, theme, or those particular versions and interpretation, the right covers, played the right way, can be as good if not better than a band's records proper. Which makes sense as you're typically covering songs that are, at least to you, if not everyone, 'classics.'
Which brings us to When I See The Sun Always Shines On TV, which is in fact, a collection of covers, many of which might seem like super obvious choices. Which is okay, it's as if Nadja wanted to acknowledge their influences loudly and proudly in the face of folks who accuse them of ripping off some of these very same bands. And at least half of these tracks are actually by bands that we've compared Nadja to in past reviews. So we were sort of psyched to see how instead of infusing their own music with the influences of other bands, they might approach it the other way around, taking these songs and bands they love, and filtering them through their own sound. Alongside those obvious choices though are some totally out of left field choices, that on the surface seem to make no sense, but in the context of this collection fit perfectly, and when heard all buzzy and blissy and Nadja'd up, sometimes sound better than the originals.
The album opens with My Bloody Valentine's "Only Shallow", and Nadja make it their own, which is no small feat considering how iconic that main riff is, but heck, in the past we'v talked about how everything sounds better slower, well imagine that jam, slowed way down, and beefed WAY up, so what was already THEE shoegaze anthem of all time, is transformed into a lurching, heaving, crumbling mass of glorious blurred and blown out soft focus heaviness. Then comes Codeine's "Pea", another obvious Nadja influence, we would have gone for "Cave In", some doom band needs to cover that one, but "Pea" suits them, they don't even rock it out that much, it's a bit heavier, but not much slower, and Aidan Baker's soft tentative croon is a dead ringer for Codeine's Stephen Immerwahr. The band also tackle the Swans, and the Cure, the latter's "Faith" stretched out to almost 13 minutes, and expansive glorious woozy gloomy sprawl.
But it's the unlikely choices that seal the deal. A-Ha? It's the track that gives this comp its title, and although we're not familiar with the original (well, actually Cup is!), the Nadja version is gorgeous, heavy and poppy and gloriously blown out.
Then there's the Slayer cover, "Dead Skin Mask" from Seasons In The Abyss, not as obvious a choice as "Raining Blood" or "Angel Of Death", but for Nadja a much more suitable choice, that main riff, sounds soooooo good, all sludgey and washed out, that main melody even more seasick and woozy sounding, the new version somehow even creepier than the original. However our favorite two tracks here are definitely the least likely, one you may have heard, one you most likely haven't.
First, Elliott Smith's "Needle In The Hay", which of course is a fantastic song, but in Nadja's capable hands, it becomes even more harrowing, much more minor key, the vocals worn and weary, the drums a trudging death march, all beneath a thick layer of droning buzz and keening keyboards, and then that main hook, so epic and mysterious and sorrowful. You can almost imagine this is what Smith was imagining when he wrote it. And as much as we love this whole disc, this is the one we keep returning to.
And then there's "Long Dark Twenties", which was previously releases as a super limited 7", and which just happens to be a cover of a song from the Kids In The Hall movie, and yeah, that makes no sense at all, but as far as we're concerned it's become a Nadja song, we actually reviewed that song in depth when we had the 7", so let's revisit that briefly:
Folks who managed to catch Nadja performing live at aQuarius not too long ago, were treated to quite possibly the heaviest, catchiest, grooviest Nadja track yet. An awesome hook filled seventies rock style ultra jam, wrapped in thick clouds of billowing distortion and anchored by the crunch and pound of programmed beats, Aidan Baker's vocals a whispered croon, Leah Buckareff's bass throbbing and rumbling, but the main riff, SHIT, unbelievable, even after our ears stopped ringing, we were all humming that riff for days...
Well the funny thing we learned later, was that there song was in fact a cover. And an incredibly unlikely cover at that. The only obvious link between the original and the band covering it? Canada. The song, some of you might remember, is in fact from the Kids In The Hall movie Brain Candy, and proves that Nadja can turn hooky pop into hooky sludge-y doom. The chorus is an absolute killer, and similar to how Torche transform pop into skullcrushing hook filled heaviness, Nadja take that pop and wrap it all up in some of their distinctive blissed out fuzz and we're talking HIT. Well, a hit if there were actually some sort of blissdoomdronesludgepop chart. Which there should be. And there sort of is, in our heads, but anyway...
So yeah, for folks who missed out on that single, or who just want to have it on cd instead of vinyl, well, it's worth the price of admission for just that jam. But thankfully, every song on here is a crushing doom drenched, pop infused, slow motion chunk of dreamy blissed out, ultra catchy heaviness. And even though it's not technically a proper Nadja record, it just may well be our favorite Nadja record yet.
MPEG Stream: "Only Shallow (My Bloody Valentine)"
MPEG Stream: "Pea (Codeine)"
MPEG Stream: "Needle In The Hay (Elliott Smith)"
MPEG Stream: "Long Dark Twenties (Kids In The Hall)"

STEAMHAMMER Speech (Repertoire) cd 23.00
Here's one of our favorite obscure heavy prog proto metal faves... It's a wee bit more expensive than the previous out of print version of this we used to have ages ago, but at least it's back in print and back in stock, now in a nice digipack from Germany's Repertoire reissue label. Here's what we said before about this before:
England's Steamhammer had a heavy name and lotsa chops, but never really made the big time. Their first three albums were British blues rock incarnate, real good at that but not our cup of tea really. THEN came "Speech", their swansong. Something happened (lots of drugs, maybe?) - it was real different. This is an unusual album for sure. Probably not what Steamhammer fans at the time were expecting: Psychedelic doomy prog-tastic epic instrumental slaying, with fuzz FX, jazzy percussion, and emotive vox. It's not metal but it's got a lot of what we like about metal that's for sure, and kicks ass on most of what came out in '72. Fans of some of the real heavy underground bands from the era like the Groundhogs, Lucifer's Friend, Socrates Drank The Conium, even Il Balleto Di Bronzo ought to check this out for sure! Unfamiliar with those obscurities? Well just imagine Led Zep gone off the rails. Creative, deftly timed/structured songs full of psychedelic atmosphere. From quasi-religious 20th century avantgarde interludes to manic guitar rippage, from gorgeous vocal lamentations to jammy improv spaciness, this is AQ-approved prog weirdness for sure. The 22 minute "Penumbra" that opens the record erupts from a spooky three minute intro into sheer pulse-pounding rock trio shred, then dives into a bass-heavy dirge from which a vocal chorus emerges...and on they go. Everytime we play this for someone who we think *might* like it, boy, they *really* like it. This gets a big thumbs up from all the heavy/psych/prog heads here at AQ!!!
MPEG Stream: "Penumbra"
MPEG Stream: "Telegram"

ART BRUT Art Brut Vs. Satan (Downtown Music) cd 14.98
We love Art Brut. Their first record, Bang Bang Rock & Roll was an awesome slab of Fall worship, complete with angular guitars, caffeinated grooves, and the singer's snarky ironic sung/spoken vocalizing, sounding like the hipster bastard child of Mark E. Smith. Their first hit from that record, "Formed A Band", took the piss out of plenty of bands, but was pretty self deprecating at the same time. The line "And yes, this is my singing voice, it's not irony, it's not rock & roll, we're just talking to the kids" pretty much says it all.
The second record was a bit of a let down, seemed a little milquetoast, a bit watered down, there were definitely some killer moments, but not nearly enough. Vs. Satan however finds the band kicking ass once again, the music is as always, total bouncy new wave pop, the guitars jagged and crunchy, the drums propulsive and frenetic, a sound that definitely falls in line with sonic compatriots like the Arctic Monkeys, Maximo Park and the like, but it's the vocals that really set this apart. Imagine The Fall (there's no way around mentioning the Fall with Art Brut) if they were in their twenties or very early thirties right now, and were raised on, well, The Fall among other groups, and sang about comic books and milkshakes and being accused of never growing up and girls and other bands and public transportation and not having a driver's license and other mundanities of modern life. Sounds stupid, and maybe it is, but it's also goofy and good fun, often clever, cheeky, snide, but just as often tossed off, but fuck it, these guys aren't trying to change the world, they're having a good time, making an awesome racket, and we're having a great time listening to it. Plus these songs are wicked catchy, just listen to the opening one two punch of "Alcoholics Unanimous" and "DC Comics And Chocolate Milkshakes" and see if you're not totally sold. Two of our favorite new wave pop jams of the year for sure.
MPEG Stream: "Alcoholics Unanimous"
MPEG Stream: "DC Comics And Chocaolate Milkshakes"
MPEG Stream: "The Passenger"

STARKEY Live - Record Release Party - Saturday April 11 (Lo Dubs) 2 x cd-r 16.98
We only have a handful of these, live double cd-r's, recorded at the record release party for that Starkey mix we reviewed a few lists back. A mix which KILLED by the way. And Starkey's live set is equally ferocious, packed with tons of unreleased jams and dubplates, some of the best dubstep we've heard EVER, crushing buzzing bass, swirling synths, jagged stuttering beats, the first track alone, a Starkey jam if we're not mistaken, is worth the price of admission alone, super intense and cinematic, about as heavy as dubstep gets. The only bummer about this collection, is that it's a live disc, so some of the tracks are interrupted by shout outs, but that's a minor complaint with a mix this strong.
There's practically no information, no tracklisting, no artist names, just two printed discs in a clear jewel case. But that almost makes it better. One big ol' mysterious collection of low slung grooves and pounding rhythms, a few have vocals, one or two get all grime-y, but throughout, the sound is devastating, so much bass, plenty of rumbling buzzing low end, some wild synthy squiggles, chopped up loops, weird melodies and fractured samples, all woven into dense speaker shredding bass bin crushing jams, and the beats, holy shit, stuttering, shuffling, skittering, if we were more inclined to dancing, this would definitely have us destroying dancefloors like there was no tomorrow. As it is, even us wallflowers can dig Starkey's deep dark dubbed out din.
MPEG Stream: "Track 01, Disc 1"

HUMAN QUENA ORCHESTRA, THE The Politics Of The Irredeemable (Crucial Blast) cd 13.98
Record number two from the strangely named Human Quena Orchestra, whose first record, Means Without Ends, was one of the most devastating slabs of blackened post industrial ultra doom ever, an abject crawl through layer upon layer of impossibly thick downtuned buzz, massive walls of crumbling distortion, pounding percussion, we mentioned groups like Godflesh and Pitchshifter and Swans, as well as Moss and Bunkur, but even on that record, HQO were going somewhere darker, and deeper, heavier and way more extreme. Take those same bands and mix in some Whitehouse, some Khanate, diSEMBOWELMENT, Thergothon, Lustmord, HQO is the soundtrack to a descent into hell, or at least sounds exactly how we imagine that must sound. Pants shittingly terrifying.
For the follow up, HQO mainman (and only man) Ryan Unks, was joined by his former Creation Is Crucifixion bandmate Nathan Berlinguette, and the two spent months and months meticulously crafting this slab of bleak aural terror. Sampling drums, recording guitars and basses, creating loops and samples, layering and assembling and arranging, recording and rerecording and mixing and remixing, two sonic alchemists poised above their slumbering golem, waiting for the perfect moment to bring it to life.
The Politics Of The Irredeemable is absolutely epic, monstrous, stunning in its scope, if the first record was the soundtrack to an earth stripped bare, of death and destruction and pestilence, then this record is the sound of the end of all life in the universe, of planets hurtling into suns, of stars collapsing into black holes, but the thing is, the music here is much more personal and emotional, it carries the weight of a universal apocalypse, but is more the sound of sadness, personal hell, not a literal trip down the rabbit hole, gnashing teeth and eternal hellfire, this is much more tactile and REAL, it's easy to describe music like this abstractly, but this is some seriously intense and brutal, and stunningly introspective heaviness.
Unlike most of the sludge and doom, where the bands play as low as they can, tune down until the stings are hanging loose on the fretboard, playing as loud as they possibly can, and as slow and they are able, the elements that make up Human Quena Orchestra's sound world are deliberate, are crafted to evoke specific emotions, to conjure up images, to help your mind relate to the message within the music. Four long long tracks, two split into distinct parts, the opener "Progress" plays out like most bands' entire records. A heaving crush of downtuned crunch, the vocals wild and hysterical, wrapped in reverb and often left to wail in the wide open, only occasionally joined by the pound of a drum, or the slow motion avalanche of the next chord. All the while the sky is streaked with feedback and long buzzing tones, all woven into undulating smears, lit from below by buried melodies and a patina of cymbal sizzle. For 13 minutes, the darkness becomes sound, and that sound swallows the listener whole, preparing him for the harrowing musical journey to come.
The rest of the record is split pretty evenly between sprawling expanses of windswept ambience, distant moaning whir and barely audible subterranean drones, deep bell like tones drifting along slow swirls of muted melodies, and lurching crushing slow motion sludge, but sludge seems too dismissive in the case of HQO, this is not filthy or crusty or lo-fi, it's definitely dark and harsh, but hauntingly beautiful, the crush and crunch are strangely lush and rich, layered and textured, the sound becoming almost orchestral at points, often receding into the background, an ominous backdrop to the slow slither of sounds up front, at its harshest, the sounds gather up into a squall of white noise, but even then the edges are dull and rounded, the noise is muted so instead of being brutal or painful, it manages to throb and pulse like the beating of a dying heart, that beating echoed by the reverbed crash of a lone drum, pounding out a simple rhythm, nearly obfuscated by the haze of rumble and buzz, the record finally coalescing into something resembling hopefulness, the last minute or so, a warm glowing ember of drone, drifting, drifting and then slowly fading out. It seems impossible that something this heavy and harsh and brutal and blackened could be so beautiful...
MPEG Stream: "Progress"
MPEG Stream: "Mores (Part 2)"
MPEG Stream: "Denial (Part 2)"

OH SEES, THEE Help (In The Red) cd 13.98
Listening to Help, it's almost impossible to hear anything but mere traces of the chaotic noise rock path John Dwyer followed to make it to Thee Oh Sees (aka OCS, and Ohsees), but it's that noisy past, and penchant for musical shit stirring, that informs the jangly garage pop on Help, and transforms the band's jangle and shuffle and pound into near perfect buzzy fuzzy catchy retro pop, and makes it easily the best Oh Sees record yet. And a definite contended for (garage) pop record of the year.
Most of us were introduced to Dwyer via his two piece noise rock costume rock combo Pink And Brown (after brief stints in some well known Providence outfits), but unlike most of the costumed joke bands at the time, P&B offered some serious songsmithery along with the unhinged live shows and audience baiting. A brief stint drumming for SF grindlords Burmese led directly into the band that brought Dwyer to worldwide attention, the Coachwhips. Arguably one of the best live bands around, the Coachwhips made up for what they lacked in actual songs with sweat and alcohol soaked performances, utter chaos, and sometimes literally, ultra destructive houseshows. Coachwhips shows were all about the energy, the vibe, jumping around, flailing wildly, getting wrecked and having a blast. Sometimes though, that energy was difficult to translate to home listening. Take away the sweaty throng and the deafening volume and, well why would you want to do that?
And so came the Oh Sees, originally called OCS, and a double cd release on Andee's tUMULt label a few years back, essentially a solo record, one disc of folky fluttery lo-fi twang flecked pop, another of corrosive textured noise experiments, which ended up being, for many of us, one of our favorite post Pink And Brown Dwyer documents. OCS transformed into The Oh Sees and became a real band, and seemed poised to follow in the sonic footsteps of the Coachwhips, stripped down garage rock, super lo-fi, lost of brittle high end, yelped distorted vocals, tribal drumming, but there was definitely something more, more refined, more catchy, more timeless sounding, something much more than garage rock, a sound that reminded us of sixties girl groups, of Phil Spector productions, raw and primal, but lush and expansive and catchy. But that catchy lush side of the Oh Sees remained hidden beneath squalls of tweeter abuse and fractured effects, a wall of fuzz and buzz more than an actual wall of sound. Until now.
Help finds the band making their first record for garage rock stalwarts In The Red, which is ironic as this is Thee Oh Sees' least typically garage rock record yet. Instead, the sound is total pop, plucked fresh from a time capsule buried in the sixties, the guitars jangle as much as crunch, lots of reverb, the vocals wreathed in a haze of delay, lots of female vox, the choruses are lush, the drums are still tribal, but much more measured, often quite spare, the arrangements though are anything but classic, sometimes getting super abstract, but never losing their catchiness, sometimes adding all sorts of extra distorted overload, but just as quickly slipping into something smooth and groovy. Minus the weird moments and the fucked up productions, some of these songs do really sound like they were just transported forward four decades.
"Meat Step Lively" starts off all Cramps-y, with a fuzzy grinding main riff, simple pounding rhythm, but adds some awesome female vocals and background 'ooooohs', some spidery lead guitars, and coolest of all breaks it down with about a minute to go into a swinging sixties smoke-y jazzy flute flecked groove. "The Turn Around" is a minute of blown out drum damage and fractured effects, but wrapped around a sing songy main riff, and some cool distorted and reverbed vox, in total Guided By Voices fashion, they truncate what could have been the jam of the record, and launch into "Can You See", which is all slithery and washed out, with angelic background vocals, shuffling drums, and a cool dreamy bridge, but the whole thing still manages to sound ominous and intense and weirdly sexy.
The record closes with "Peanut Butter Oven", which we first heard on the recent (and sadly now out of print) Awesome Vistas 12", and it's obvious why this was the single, it definitely is THE jam of the record, with it's simple stripped down jangle, workmanlike drum beat, and soaring minor key strings, and let's not forget the gorgeous harmony vocals draped over the singing strings and that irresistible main riff.
And so it goes, every track here is a gem, each one offers up something new, some twisted take on that classic sixties garage rock sound, but it's that sound revved up and filtered through Dwyer's gloriously cracked pop sensibilities, bathed in buzz and fuzz or stripped way down and left shimmery and crystalline, sometimes wrapped in HUGE hooks or allowed to simmer and slither, the catchiness subtle yet so irresistible, and unlike past efforts, even at its noisiest, the noise element seems more an organic part of the sound, and is often shaped into something barely recognizable as noisy.
We knew Dwyer and company had it in them, and now they've proven it, BIG TIME. Dying to see what they come up with next, if they could possibly one up this here disc, but hell, for now, Help has us way satisfied. And records like these are exactly why they invented that repeat button on your cd player. Folks with turntable will just have to get up and flip the record over and over and over, again and again and again.
WAY recommended.
MPEG Stream: "Meat Step Lively"
MPEG Stream: "Ruby Go Home"
MPEG Stream: "Rainbow"

WEEDEATER God Luck And Good Speed (Southern Lord) lp 16.98
NOW AVAILABLE ON VINYL!!!
Even being the sort of person who knows almost nothing about drugs, I do know the usual preferred delivery method for pot is inhalation, not ingestion (to the lungs, not the stomach). Not that you can't cook it up in a brownie, but the guys in Weedeater sound like they just shovel handfuls of weed straight into their gaping jaws, like some sort of drug crazed harvesting machine, or like a stoner rock engineer dumping coal into the engine of a locomotive, which makes sense, as it's obvious these guys need enough weed to power the relentless, downtuned, full bore stoner metal crush found on God Luck And Good Speed.
A relative stoner rock institution, Dixie Dave and company have been spewing their filthy, crusty, blown out, drug rock for going on 10+ years now, and before that Dixie fronted the equally heavy and even crustier Buzzov-en, so this man knows his way around a stoney riff and a druggy groove, and this shit sounds just as good now as it did a decade ago, and I don't even smoke pot. So I can only imagine how amazing this must sound highŠ
But even NOT high, Weedeater destroy! Like some impossible crossbreeding experiment gone hellishly wrong, one part Eyehategod, one part Sleep, one part Corrosion Of Conformity, one part Bongzilla, guitars tuned so low the strings drag along the ground, amps stacked so high, they need a ladder to crank those knobs to 11. The vocals a harsh demonic mewl, almost more black metal than stoner metal, the drums simple but massive.
Recorded mostly by Steve Albini, except for one track by CoC's Mike Dean, and that track is the weirdest of the bunch, just bass, banjo and baritone crooning, a creepy stoner country ballad, which somehow sounds right at home amidst the crushing low slung heaviness surrounding it on all sides.
Plus song titles like "Wizard Fight", "Weedmonkey" and they even cover Skynyrd's "Gimme Back My Bullets"!
MPEG Stream: "God Luck And Good Speed"
MPEG Stream: "Alone"
MPEG Stream: "Gimme Back My Bullets"

CHERRY, DON & LATIF KHAN Music / Sangam (Heavenly Sweetness) lp 25.00
We rave about jazz legend Don Cherry as often as we can. Every reissue has us all in a tizzy. In the past we made his mind blowing Orient an aQ record Of The Week. And in retrospect, we probably should have made the Blue Lake reissue a ROTW as well. Cherry was continually pushing the boundaries of jazz, exploring and helping shape free jazz, and incorporating all manner of world music into his ever changing and expanding sound.
This disc, recorded in 1978, found Cherry once again reimagining the sound of jazz, and challenging unadventurous jazz fans, by teaming up with legendary Indian percussionist Ustad Ahmed Latif Khan. Cherry had experimented with Indian music before on past recordings, but this was the first full on collaboration. Two sides, one featuring Cherry compositions, accompanied by Khan on tablas, the other side, Khan compositions, the tablas more of the driving force, the sound distinctly more Indian classical, with Cherry accompanying Khan.
The untitled opener finds Cherry and Khan covering Ornette Coleman, Cherry's former band leader. It's a dark brooding shuffle, all warm keyboard grooves, and the tablas, how they change everything, the skittery rhythms, but also the strange rubbery low end, the song eventually morphs into a Cherry original, and gets a bit proggy with wild trumpets and thick organs, the tablas still driving the whole thing. It's the next track where it gets really interesting though. A sprawling rhythmscape, the tablas doing double time, the rhythm, and a pulsing sort-of-bass line, Cherry delivering abstract almost scat like falsetto vocals, dark and drone-y and spaced out and minimal, peppered with occasional bursts of wild horn skronk, but for the most part, a swirling tripped out stretch of throbbing subtly psychedelic jazz minimalism. The final Cherry composed track is another gem, all glistening chimes and high end tones, flurries of piano, distant horns, whooshing effects, and of course the skitter of the tablas, more melodic almost that rhythmic on this track. Cherry also introduces some flute, which gives the track a sort of freak folk vibe, really!
Khan's side is distinctly less jazz. The tablas way up in the mix, his dexterous rhythms totally spellbinding, intricate, and again melodic, Cherry offering up strange bits of percussion, muted keyboards, very abstract and so cool. The final track, a sprawling 13 minute epic begins with just organ, drifting in space, until the tablas come in, and holy shit, even more intense and intricate, wreathed in a bit of reverb, and slipping from loping grooves to wild bursts of impossibly complex rhythmatism, the organ, a constant warm whir in the background, and the timbre of the keyboards, continues to infuse the track with a distinctly prog feel. Making this some sort of abstract classical Indian jazz prog? Whatever you want to call it, these are some gorgeously hypnotic and meditative sounds. So very recommended. Fans of the Necks might get into this too, similarly dark minimal vibe, especially the Khan tracks, and well worth checking out for the rest of you, even if jazz isn't normally your thing.
MPEG Stream: "One Dance"
MPEG Stream: "Air Mail"
MPEG Stream: "Sangam"

LOCRIAN Drenched Lands (Small Doses / At War With False Noise) cd 14.98
Somehow this is exactly what we've been hankering for. A sprawling blackened songsuite, equal parts dark ambience, dense drones, heavy electronics, buzzy lo-fi almost new wave sounding keyboards, spidery post rock guitars and soft noise. Even writing it, that seems like a pretty unworkable, or unrealistic combination, but somehow these Midwesterners make it work. Big time.
They definitely could be considered sonic brethren of bands like SUNNO))), Pussygutt, MZ412, Troum, To Blacken The Pages, Wolf Eyes, Vulture Club and the like. However, Locrian take that sound someplace all their own, creating actual SONGS, as opposed to just soundscapes or drones. And there's a definitely black metal component for sure, no matter how abstract. Guitars are everywhere, seemingly the foundation for Locrian's sound, although as often as the guitars are unfurling spidery post rocky melodies, or distant reverbed riffs, they are also smeared into warm whirling clouds, left to drift and gradually change shape, or pulled apart and allowed to crumble into jagged little shards. Noise in a big component too, often the prettiest parts are treated with a patina of grinding soft focus electronics, or groaning downtuned tones.
The record opens with a gorgeous, elegiac guitar part, simple and stripped down, like it could be a black metal intro, until the organ comes in, wheezy and warbly, giving the track a weirdly lo-fi almost industrial vibe, definitely had us wishing it was in fact more than just a two minute intro.
That is until track two, "Ghost Repeater" takes over. An epic slow motion drift, strange echoey sounds floating in a warm muted sea of buzz and drone, glitched out bits of electronics, and eventually, a very epic black metal riff, that remains off in the distance, repeated and repeated until it too simply becomes another layer of sound.
"Barren Temple Obscured By Contaminated Fogs" (another great title), begins again with some creepy spindly guitar, draped over a deep pulsing low end, before transforming into some seriously abject and WAY abstract blacknoise. Shrieked distorted vokills over that same spidery guitar, Abruptum like ambience meets warped Goblinesque synth drones, the whole track twisted and warbly, eventually the vocals dropping out, leaving the buzzing guitars and wheezing keyboards to play out a super haunting horrorscape. "Epicedium" is delicate and crystalline, noodly guitar lines looped beneath a glimmering softly throbbing drone, peppered with fragmented strums, soon the track begins to grow gradually more and more distorted, the guitars more tense and frantic, the mood so haunting and weirdly beautiful and so subtly dramatic, reminding us of a super twisted soundtrack to some lost Giallo.
The record proper ends with another awesomely titled jam: "Obsolete Elegy In Cast Concrete", tolling bells, space kraut drones, all washed out and shimmery, the bed for some seriously corrosive guitar buzz and grind, adding layer after layer of crunch and rumble, but also slipping to some seriously black chug, joined by still more harsh hellish vox, a strange combination for sure but manages to be both beautiful and brutal, until the very end, where the track shifts gears and becomes all dramatic and melodic and weirdly majestic.
The cd features a bonus track called "Greyfield Shrines", which is nearly as long as all of the other tracks combined, a sprawling slow building blackened world of sound that slithers from hushed drift, to fractured buzz, to woozy moody ambience to blown out speaker shredding crunch, absolutely epic, super cinematic, mysterious, and even at it's noisiest, still quite melodic and blackly beautiful. Most definitely a track that could have been (and we think maybe was) a record all on its own.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES. Cool fold over arigato-pack style sleeve, with a full color printed booklet. And for anyone going to the Matchitehew metal/noise festival in Chicago in a few weeks, you'll be able to catch these guys live.
MPEG Stream: "Obsolete Elegy In Effluvia and Dross"
MPEG Stream: "Ghost Repeater"
MPEG Stream: "Obsolete Elegy In Lost Concrete"

PESTE NOIRE Ballade Cuntre Lo Anemi Francor (De Profundis / Rosenkrantz) cd 16.98
Pretty much as soon as we heard this, we knew it was going to be Record Of The Week, and not just black metal record of the week. In the past, Peste Noire seems to have always been unfairly categorized as an Amesoeurs / Alcest sideproject (we plead guilty of that as well) due not only to the presence of Neige, the mastermind behind both Amesoeurs and Alcest, but the seemingly shared membership between all three bands, and while Neige did no doubt contribute much to Peste Noire's sound, it seems Peste Noire was much more the brainchild of only remaining original member, Famine, whose other main musical outlet is the almost equally twisted Valfunde, and as if to prove the validity of the above claim, has assembled an almost entirely new lineup (although Audrey from Amesoeurs contributes some vocals) and cobbled together the most damaged, most fucked up, most gloriously bizarre Peste Noire record yet. Which if you've heard any of the other records is definitely saying something!
The record is weirdly arranged, five proper songs, with 2 minute or shorter song fragments and interludes, some that play like proper songs themselves, only truncated, others that act as intros or just totally tweaked unhinged sound experiments, but somehow, songs and non-songs alike hold together beautifully, and bafflingly, the band having created some sort of crusty, blackened, melancholy, depressive French folk flecked classic metal.
The intro begins with sizzling shimmering cymbals, simple percussion, eventually joined by beautiful ethereal female vocals, as well as some raspy blackened not-really-harmony vocals, then the riff comes in, and damn if it isn't a riff from Star Wars, but super distorted and blown out, pounding, crusty, epic and majestic, the rasped vocals over a haunting military sounding speech. And then straight into the first 'proper' track, which begins as some sort of sea shanty like French folk song, but with the addition of some hellish black vokills, you can almost imagine a table full of French soldiers, and one dripping slimy otherworldy beast, all singing along, glasses raised to the sky. Then in comes a very classic sounding metal riff, but the guitars muted and woozy, the tempo lurching and seasick, all manner of different vocals, crooning, shrieking, howling, then an awesomely weird squiggly bit of low end, super tripped out and psychedelic but somehow subtle and buried in the mix. Guitars soar and sing and jangle, wrapped around equally dramatic vocals, a total French folk crust anthem.
The follow up track begins all dark acoustic guitars and birdsong, martial percussion, eventually exploding into a super buzzy distorted march, pounding away, midtemp and melancholy, before returning to a super gorgeous, hauntingly depressive gothic crust almost-ballad, blackened and distorted, but also post rocky and strangely emotional and moving.
The 'interludes' include some warped and warbly haunted house piano, doused in hiss and crackle, ghostly female vocals drifting amidst the warm whir, sinister laughter, squalls of maniacal shrieks, dueling male / female vocals, almost operatic, soon joined again by that monstrous blackened croak, warm woozy calliopes, soundtracky keyboards and the sound of storms, tons of reverb and delay, tape hiss and softly crumbling distortion, all creating perfect segues between loping depressive midtempo blackened post metal lurch, super blown out in the red almost D-beat pounding buzz, those vocals transforming from hellish howl to deep moan, there's even some wheezing harmonica, all leading up to the final track, "Soleils Couchants", which begins with birdsong again, and an awesomely angular and beautifully twisted guitar part, paired up with a gorgeous minor key harmony, before slipping into a moody downtuned creep, complete with weird frog like vocals, and a looped bit of beeps and chirps, total post-doom weirdness, literally like nothing you've ever heard, it sounds a little like that first part of the Pirates Of The Caribbean ride at Disneyland, where you're just floating through the dark bayou, lit only but slivers of moonlight and the flickering light of fireflies, it's like a soundtrack to that, swampy and doomy and mysterious, until the band launches into a strangely melodic black doom midtempo jam, the guitars minor key, multiple vocals merging into raspy otherworldly harmonies, before breaking down into a long stretch of just guitars and vocals, the guitars twisted and spidery but still melodic, the voices tortured but super passionate, yet again infusing the fucked up twisted blackness with pathos and emotion, keeping it from being weird for weird's sake, this is something else entirely. What sounds like a child's voice joins in, twisted around that hellish vokill, all draped over a gorgeously catchy riff, reminding us a bit of Katatonia or Lifelover, before spiraling and sprawling into a seriously melodic blackened post rock jam, and then finally returning to the doomy lurch that began the song some seven minutes earlier.
Peste Noire have (again) managed the seemingly impossible, creating a record both totally twisted and damaged, but also lovely and moving and melodic, a record that ranks up there in our pantheon of most bizarre and fucked up black metal records ever, while somehow appealing to even the not so metal inclined, a confusional mix of black and crust and pop and folk, all twisted and tangled up and forced through Peste Noire's cracked musical sensibilities, the result, a record fucked up and fantastical, and this review not withstanding, almost impossible to describe.
MPEG Stream: "Neire Peste"
MPEG Stream: "La Mesniee Mordrissoire"
MPEG Stream: "Ballade Cuntre Les Anemis De La France"
MPEG Stream: "Soleils Couchants"

AGORAPHOBIC NOSEBLEED Agorapocalypse (Relapse) cd 17.98
Much like when the Butthole Surfers signed to a major label, who would have thought that a band with a name like Agoraphobic Nosebleed (and a sound like theirs for that matter!), would reach the point they're at now. For the longest time, Scott Hull kept Agoraphobic Nosebleed a dirty little secret, like the deformed child you keep locked in the basement, while focusing on his 'real' band Pig Destroyer (another bad ass band name), Agoraphobic Nosebleed a much spazzier and more drum machined grind proposition, which Pig Destroyer kept drifting more and more toward a somewhat more mainstream metal sound.
As much as we love PD (see the Natasha review elsewhere on this list) our bleeding blackened hearts always belonged to Agoraphobic Nosebleed, every record packed with 30 second long tracks, amazing artwork, insane song titled, a fully fucked and warped sense of humor, killer artwork, and let's not forget that amazing 100 song 3", what wasn't to love? They were just so twisted and heavy and brutal, their sound a lightning speed burst of grinding ultraviolence, 1000 mile an hour hyperspeed fury, complex, convoluted, stuttering, blown out sonic insanity.
So we've been waiting patiently for a new AnB record, it's been almost 3 years since the PCP Torpedo / ANBRX comp / remix record 2cd, and finally, lo and behold, the band resurface, with a new member (a lady no less, and not just ANY lady, the vocalist from ultra doom outfit Salome) and a new sound. We of course expected 30 or 40 songs, but there are only 13, and the sound is not so fast, not so unhinged, definitely still grind, but more a sort of fast core / power violence variant. At first we were a little disappointed with that, but the more we listen to this, the more the songs sink in, with slower tempos and longer track lengths, comes more melodies, more hooks, it's now a bit more about the songs, and THE RIFF, than just a twisted blown out blast of tangled grind. Not that we don't love us a twisted blown out blast of tangled grind, but between all the AnB records we already own, we have about 300 tracks of that, so this new record is pretty exciting. Still a drum machine, but the programming is wicked, it sounds almost like a real drummer (there's even a sort of drum!!), the guitars are still amazing, jagged and corrosive, the riffs much more like riffs instead of shards of guitar grind, lots of chug, and super almost technical squiggles, a bit of groove too, and some definite Greg Ginn-ish worship, the whole sound is still plenty gnarled and harsh and brutal, it's just that now you have time to get into the songs. There's some bits of plodding doominess, some long stretches of churning crunch, but for the most part this is a gloriously grinding chunk of damaged metallic chaos.
And be sure to check the negative track, that's right, rewind past the beginning, and there's a whole other secret track (well not secret, it's listed on the disc and there are lyrics in the booklet), and speaking of the booklet, it's jam packed with fucked up cartoony drawings of death and cocks and naked women and sex acts and drugs and snakes and gore (it is a grind record after all) as well as the band's twisted non-PC lyrics.
And while they last, the jewel-cased cds come packaged inside old school long boxes, the amazing cover art spread out over one of those big cardboard boxes cds used to come in back when they had to fit in bins stores previously were using for vinyl, but the extra dough is not just for the box, it also comes with pins, a poster and a bad ass embroidered patch. The vinyl has none of that stuff, but does have a huge full color booklet, and is housed in a sweet deluxe jacket.
MPEG Stream: "Agorapocalypse Now"
MPEG Stream: "Timelord One (Loneliness Of The Long Distance Drug Runner)"
MPEG Stream: "Dick To Mouth Resuscitation"
MPEG Stream: "Flamingo Snuff"

PIG DESTROYER Natasha (Relapse) cd 14.98
Originally available as a bonus DVD audio disc with the first pressing of Pig Destroyer's Terrifyer album, the half hour plus track "Natasha" functions almost better as its own record (which it now is), seeing as it was pretty sonically removed from the rest of the grinding mayhem found on Terrifyer.
Rumored to have originally been intended for a two-part split with the similarly godlike (and sadly defunct) Creation Is Crucifixion, which never materialized, "Natasha" is possibly the single strangest and greatest effort yet from these Pig Destroying psychopaths. Extrapolating on the previous love-scorned dementia lyrical themes of their Prowler In The Yard opus, "Natasha" is a hallucinogenic half-hour nightmare of epic proportions. Heavy, plodding sonorous drums (and finally a bass guitar!) crash like thunder as ominous feedback echoes off the graven landscape of lyricist JR Hayes's surreal acid-trip of uncomfortable adolescent obsession gone horribly awry. The piece metamorphoses through several states, from long quiet ambient passages to keyboard dirges to full-on metallic surges before finally dissolving into the audio equivalent of the gnashing jaws of the song's eponymous protagonist. Absolutely stunningly majestically heavy and downright, dare we say, beautiful - like a psylocybin-striated amalgam of Corrupted, Boris, Godflesh, Buried at Sea, Old Man Gloom and Neurosis. Includes the same disturbing short story liner notes as before, but with some gorgeously garish new artwork. Natasha is an absolute must-hear and definitely proves once again that Pig Destroyer remain at the very fore of extreme music innovation.
MPEG Stream: "Natasha (excerpt 1)"
MPEG Stream: "Natasha (excerpt 2)"

BECK One Foot In The Grave (Geffen / K) cd 16.98
Through all the genre's he's dabbled in, all the concepts he's fucked with, all the hits he's had, for many of us the story of Beck begins and ends with One Foot In The Grave. Recorded months before Mellow Gold, which ended up being released before it and turned Beck into a poster boy for the '90s alternative-nation, One Foot In The Grave is Beck's most stripped down, raw and impacting album. And a long time favorite of most folks around here.
Recorded by Calvin Johnson at Dub Narcotic Studios and released on K, this record shared much more in common with the humble raw sounds of the underground then it did videos on MTV, glossy photos shoots and all that would follow. The whole world seemed focused on "Loser" and and all the bullshit that came with Beck's sudden ascent to superstar status, but this record was proof that beneath it all was an amazing songwriter and a fantastic singer. While a stripped down lo-fi folksy/bluesy record sounds like such an ordinary thing now, back in the early '90s there really wasn't much of this going on. This was a decade before indie-folk would blow up big, it was the same year that Elliott Smith released his first solo album, the beginnings of a new burst of indie minded souls making folk music in a truly unique way. One Foot In The Grave was one of those records that kicked our asses, a record we could totally connect to, a record that we listened to ENDLESSLY. There weren't many singer songwriters around at the time who seemed to bring real grit to their sound, or who had any sort of unique perspective. Beck then was someone who you could tell loved Sonic Youth, Beat Happening and Neil Young, and was just sort of making real heartfelt songs, songs that sounded like they were being performed around a campfire, just us and beck, making s'mores, telling ghost stories and singing songs.
Rustic and haunting, simple and strong, One Foot In The Grave still sounds so great after all these years, and still manages to be the best sounding Beck record, even considering everything that came after!!
This reissue comes with sixteen bonus tracks (thirteen of which have never been released!)
MPEG Stream: "He's A Mighty Good Leader"
MPEG Stream: "I Get Lonesome"
MPEG Stream: "Teenage Wastebasket"

DIAMATREGON Crossroad (tUMULt) cd 13.98
It's hard to believe it's been almost SEVEN years since we've heard from French black metal horde Diamatregon. Their last record, Blasphemy For Satan, was an absolute beast, fucked up and frenzied, furious and insanely noisy and chaotic. Released on Andee's tUMULt label (as is this one, although the vinyl is on Paragon), Blasphemy still puts to shame most other black metal, past or present. And somehow, Crossroad, as impossible as it may seem, is poised to one up Blasphemy in almost every way.
In the preceding years, a few things in the Diamatregon camp have changed. Thankfully, the band are still the furious frenzied blackened juggernaut they always were, a band whose sound we once described as "violently thrashing, ultra chaotic, on-the-verge-of-losing-control, over-saturated, super distorted and noisy, TRUE black metal", and that definitely still applies. But Diamatregon's rhythm section has been moonlighting in both the alchemical post rock outfit Aluk Todolo, as well as in wild psychedelic combo the Gunslingers, and that has definitely influenced their sound. Not to mention that Crossroad is in fact a sort of black metal homage to the blues, the title referring to the legendary crossroads where many a musician struck a deal with the devil. And we can only assume these guys have bought into some similar sort of bargain, as Crossroad is mind blowing, still black metal at its core, full of buzzing insectoid riffing, pounding blasting beats, and raspy demonic vokills, but the arrangements are epic and convoluted and so complex, the various riffs and beats often seeming to melt into each other creating long droned out buzzscapes, the textures too are weirdly murky and washed out, tons of reverb and delay, seemingly lo-fi on the surface, but that low fidelity is just another tool in the band's extensive sonic arsenal. And then there's the blues aspect, this is after all a tribute to the blues, and close examination does in fact reveal some surprising bits of bluesiness, deftly woven into the corrosive black fabric of Diamatregon's freaked out grim buzz. A casual listen will reveal no blues at all, but strap on some headphones and let that swirling blackness swallow you whole, and suddenly the songs open up, revealing layer after layer, and within all of that buzz and rrroooar there lurks subtle blues structures.
But that's not all, the songs constantly shift gears sometimes, the guitars drop out completely, leaving just a garagey bass heavy groove, other times the guitars soar and sing, chiming and ringing out, eventually collapsing into yet another black hole of sound. Here and there the band slow things down, and get a bit depressive and Burzumy, loping and melancholic, woozy and warbly, but even within a fairly well defined sound, Diamatregon fuck it up and make it all their own, infusing warm whirring major key melodies, adding all sorts of drones and layers, the vocals a deep ominous rumble, before slipping into some post rocky clean guitar, beneath some twisted Orc-ish vox, and a jam that is total loping post rock, mathy, and minimal, a bit blackened, but it's not difficult to hear and feel the link between Diamatregon and Aluk Todolo.
The title track is the record's centerpiece, beginning with some crumbing lo-fi guitar, soon lurching into a lumbering bit of chaotic blackness, the drums WAY up in the mix, the vocals strange and strangled sounding, the guitars thick and corrosive, the sound of the whole song seeming to warp and warble, until everything drops out minus the guitars which are left to drone and rumble and reverberate, creating thick sheets of chordal buzz, so gorgeously minimal and hypnotic, eventually joined by soaring slow motion leads draped over the top, before exploding into another stretch of chaotic pounding blackness.
The final track, "He Was Not A Believer", is probably the heaviest and harshest of the bunch, a pounding relentless blackened onslaught, but even here the band infuse all sorts of melody and texture, and again, let the song break down into an abject doomic crawl, all grunted anguished voices, monstrous drum plod, warped guitar, droney moodiness, eventually getting almost Sabbathy, before slipping back into an even more frenetic black blast, and finally finishing off with a long stretch of blackened distorted crumble and ooze, that seems to slip slowly away.
Blasphemy For Satan was so extreme, so overdriven, so insanely distorted blown out, that there was really nowhere to go, but deeper, darker, weirder, and yeah, maybe bluesier. Crossroad has so much going on, it definitely plays out like grim blasting black metal, but it's so much more, a sprawling expansive experimental landscape of abstract blackness and deconstructed rock tropes, a constantly shifting soundworld of convoluted heaviness, of layered drones and crumbling abstract otherworldy ambience, at once heavy and brutal and grim, but also rhythmic and melodic, a twisted, outsider, idiosyncratic slab of fucked up and brilliant black metal, that manage to stay true and kvlt while seeming to disregard any and all sonic restrictions placed on the genre. So fucking amazing.
MPEG Stream: "Wine"
MPEG Stream: "Terror"
MPEG Stream: "Crossroad"

SILVERSUN PICKUPS Swoon (Dangerbird) cd 15.98
It's so easy to hate on these guys (and gal), they went from indie darlings to next big thing, to actual big thing in the blink of an eye. Plus they sound dangerously and criminally like Smashing Pumpkins, but, and this is a very very big BUT, they actually kind of rule.
If you haven't heard their big first single "Lazy Eye", look it up on YouTube. It's like the best Smashing Pumpkins song Billy Corgan never wrote. Or more accurately, it's like THAT Smashing Pumpkins song, you know the one, the only really great late period SP song, but made heavier and blissier and a little noisier. That whole first record was packed with similar jams, My Bloody Valentine meets the Smashing Pumpkins is the most obvious (and oft mentioned comparison), but heck if it isn't sort of accurate. And for what they lacks in originality, they make up for in sheer rad rockingness, hooks everywhere, the singer's Corgan-esque croon, some kick ass drumming, and guitars everywhere, supecharged, distorted, heavy, buzzy, blown out, but still warm and thick and billowy.
We never reviewed the first record, but for some of us, it was definitely a (not so) guilty pleasure. While Swoon doesn't have a hit quite as unbeatable as "Lazy Eye", it does manage to be more lush and expansive, a bit heavier, and after a few listens, some of these songs will be lodged in your head FOREVER. And the sad thing is, this stuff sounds so much better than 90 percent of the rock happening these days, and it's sad to realize they just don't make music like this so much anymore, so when someone does, and does it so well, we just have to sit back and let ourselves be transported right back to the good old days, those days being the nineties, so c'mon, close your eyes, let your hair down, turn up the stereo and rock the fuck out. Pop fiends, especially ones who grew up in the nineties, will go nuts for this. And if you can ignore all the hype and the bullshit and just enjoy the music for what it is, even the most jaded of hipsters might just find themselves unable to resist the blissy crunchy pop spell of Silversun Pickups.
MPEG Stream: "Panic Switch"
MPEG Stream: "There's No Secrets This Year"
MPEG Stream: "The Royal We"

EXPO 70 Night Flights (Fedora Corpse) lp 16.98
Second of two new releases from Fedora Corpse, and one of THREE new jams from Expo 70, but we're sure as shit not complaining, we can't get enough of Expo's blissed out space rock kraut drone dreaminess.
Lately, it seems like Expo 70 has been leaning toward a heavier, darker sound, dabbling in SUNN-like walls of sound, letting guitars unwind in thick churning blackened swells, but for Night Flights (can't help but think of that bad ass late night video show of the almost same name), the sound is much more blissy and drifty and ambient, at least at first. The two looooong songs that make up side one, are hushed and delicate and crystalline, definitely evoking the sound of outer space, it's not hard to imagine drifting aimlessly and weightlessly through a black expanse of starless sky, the deep black turning almost blue, suffused with the burnished and nearly buried glow of eons old starlight. Tranquil, and contemplative, hypnotic, definitely new age-y, in the best possible sense, a soundtrack for astral projection.
But then the flipside is something completely different, introducing some drum machines, and crafting a swirling chaos of high end glitch and squelch, clouds of bloops and bleeps and swoops, looped and skittery, over spidery minor key guitars and soft warm melodic swells, sounding almost like a Sunroof! jam being slowly drifting into it's constituent parts, some sort of sonic super nova in slow motion. The second track on the B side finds Expo touching once again on the dark and the heavy, the blackened buzz of distorted guitars and thick looped dronescapes, slow burning, slow building, the guitars grow in intensity, until they're locked into a woozy mesmerizing loop, over which, strange atonal guitars tangle and drift, a sort of obtuse bit of lugubrious shredding, before those strangled leads drop out leaving just the initial buzzing swells, now laced with burning hot streaks of high end distorted shimmer. Gorgeous.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES! Pressed on thick blue/grey colored vinyl, with cool, super striking one color silk screened sleeves.

OLD YRON s/t (Shadow Kingdom) cd 13.98
That crude & spooky, black & white linocut (?) cover art looks like some cult black metal cassette or floorcore noisepsych lp from nowadays. But it actually heralds an album of '80s Italian underground metal weirdness, which is basically one of those obscure microgenres that we here at Aquarius might just be getting a bit obsessed with (other examples: Scandinavian skweee, field recordings of frogs, Sheffield black psychedelia, singing saw music, and the New Wave Of Finnish Heavy Metal). Well, at any rate we're into a few weird '80s underground Italian metal bands, previously having written about Black Hole and Dark Quarterer... We'd put Flames Of Hell in there too but they were from Iceland, not Italy, though somehow seem like they'd belong. There's also the likes of Death SS and Bulldozer, and going way back Jacula, but it's Old Yron that we should be talking about right now!
That's the band responsible for this record, originally released in quite limited fashion in 1989, though it sounds somewhat older than that (Old Yron actually having their beginnings back in 1974). Six tracks suffused with traditional metallic atmosphere and amateur charm. Being Italian, it's got a classically influenced, proggy bent to it, but that's filtered through an extremely budget DIY production, enhanced perhaps by what may be the crackle of the vinyl from which this (fully legit however) cd reissue was probably transferred.
Old Yron deliver the goods in the form of high pitched screams and Yngwiesque guitar shred, on such songs as "Old Yron", "Crazy Lady", and "Strange Vision"... strange vision indeed, as OY seem to be all about taking their mundane existence and finding something dreamlike and weird about it, particularly involving women if at all possible, in which case they are voluntarily "Slave To Dream"! Speaking of women, their regular singer's histrionic, operatic stylings are joined by the atypical "jazzy" singing of a guest female vocalist on "Window In The Dark" which is probably our favorite track here, for sheer eccentricity.
The album ends with the Paganini inspired instrumental "Up-Start", which sets us up for this cd's two bonus tracks, modern (circa 2003) recordings of classical guitar by OY mainman Antonio "Tony" Ferrari. While much slicker than the original Old Yron album itself, they can be seen as a progression from it, and/or perhaps can be considered a palate cleanser after all the very metal, lo-fi, yet cultured wailing of the album proper.
The cd booklet includes thorough liner notes by Ferrari, presented in both English and Italian. Thanks for Shadow Kingdom for digging this up, how they discovered it we don't know, but it's a unique find and we're glad to have it, it'll certainly serve as our '80s Italian underground metal weirdness fix for a little while!
MPEG Stream: "Crazy Lady"
MPEG Stream: "Window In The Dark"

HAPTIC The Medium (Flingco Sound System) lp 26.00
Gorgeous new album of sprawling abstract ambience from this mysterious trio, featuring one member of Pan American and also Necks drummer Tony Buck, and it's on Flingco which in the past has brought us lps by outsider black metal horde Wrnlrd and buzz heavy dronesters Cristal (plus the guy who runs Flingco used to run Kranky!). Phew, pretty bad ass and we haven't even gotten to the music yet!
And the music here is truly strange, delicate, spacious, spare, minimal, but lush and expansive, The Necks is not a bad jumping off point, there is a sort of cyclical feel to the dronemusic here, Bucks drumming is similarly restrained and abstract, offering up a steady stream of snare skitter, or softly billowing clouds of cymbal shimmer, using percussion to create more layers of drone, while the rest of the band coax warm, soft focus swells from their instruments, the players creating a moody ebb and flow, chiming notes and bits of melody drift along the slow moving sonic currents, the whole side unfurling in gorgeous hazy slow motion.
The flip side is even more dark and minimal, again, the focus is on deep bell like tones, the subtle interactions of the notes, the incidental melodies, a warm bleary eyed murk, that grows deeper and deeper, until it's more felt than heard, which is when the percussion becomes the focal point again, a muted cacophony of thumps, a flurry of chimes, the click and clatter of wood on wood, eventually fading out, leaving just a smear of ultra low drift. So nice.
And while they last, we have the SUPER LIMITED version, only 100 copies made, that come with a dvd-r, featuring a live video mix recorded at the Empty Bottle in Chicago in 2007, a cool video that accompanied the band, sourced from manipulated found footage with a live analog VHS loop mix.
Oh yeah, each lp comes with a download card, so you can get a digital version for your computer!

V/A 1970's Algerian Proto-Rai Underground (Sublime Frequencies) cd 16.98
Another out of print, previously vinyl only Sublime Frequencies gem gets a long overdue cd reissue. We wanted to make this a Record Of The Week when the lp first came out, but there are still so many folks out there sans turntable, we figured we oughta just wait for the cd, and now it's here, so we can indeed finally lavish this record with the Record Of The Week honors it so totally deserves.
Yet another winner from Sublime Frequencies (have they ever released a loser? We think not). And like many of the Sublime Frequencies before it, we find it hard to not think that maybe folks don't need to be making so much music, releasing so many records, when so much amazing outrageously creative music is already being and has been made all over the world, for so long, much of it never heard outside of a very few people. Maybe we should have some sort of national policy, where bands can turn in their instruments, and in exchange get a recorder, a plane ticket, and an expense account, with which they can roam the world bringing back some of that unheard and lost music. Heck, sign us up right now!
Anyway, this new release is a collection of Rai music from the early seventies, from Algeria, and these particular cuts are samples of some of the sort of "outlaw" Rai performers, a modern strain that has been neglected and ignored, and takes this classic Algerian music form, and adds electric guitar, trumpets, wah wah pedal, and whips it all up into an infectious brew equal parts Ethiopiques, Bollywood and garage rock. Or something close to that. This stuff is truly hard to describe, and the liner notes, while informative, are printed on an eye popping blue on red old school 3-D colored background which makes the text swim and sway before your eyes. And offer more on the history and the players than what Rai music actually is (there's a good description on Wikipedia). But for the purpose of this review, as it should be, we'll just focus on the sound. And what a sound!
Warm whirring organ drones, trumpets EVERYWHERE, really the defining sound, wild chaotic tribal drumming, crooned dramatic vocals, groovy, soulful, funky, raw and lo-fi, like a garage rock Ethiopiques, but with a strangely raw Bollywood vibe, the trumpets peppering the murky grooves with strange fanfares and jazzy melodies, here and there distorted guitars surface, wrapped in wah wah, reverb and echo all over the place, some songs super frenzied, others laid back and dreamy, Indian melodies draped over almost surfy grooves, really pretty fantastic. Hard to imagine that folks who have been digging all the Sublime Frequencies releases, or the Yaala Yaala reissues won't go crazy for this stuff.
Group Doueh, Group Inerane, and now this, a pretty mind blowing, near perfect, far out world music three-fer, and that's not even counting the 30+ release that came before. ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED.
MPEG Stream: BELLEMOU & BENFISSA "Li Maandouche L'Auto"
MPEG Stream: GROUPE EL AZHAR "Mazal Nesker Mazal"
MPEG Stream: GROUPE EL AZHAR "Touedar Aakli"

TUMA, SCOTT AND MIKE WEIS Taradiddle (Digitalis) lp 14.98
Scott Tuma is easily one of our favorite guitarists, from his stint creating warped and warbly underwater twangscapes in legendary downer country legends Souled American, to his gorgeous solo records of warm hazy Appalachia, so it's nice that Tuma seems to be back on track, after a seemingly long stretch of inactivity. The recent Not For Nobody, which was of course an aQ Record of The Week, and now this, a brand new collaboration with Zelienople's Mike Weis, which manages to take that Tuma sound we love and transform it into something new and different.
Weis is the drummer in Zelienople, and since Zelienople never had much cause for a proper drummer, Weis manages to be super creative behind the kit, or maybe more accurately, with an arsenal of cymbals and gongs and chimes, creating textures and layers more than rhythms. Which is precisely what he brings to this collaboration. Tuma is of course doing what he does best, weaving lush landscapes of sound, his guitar keening and moaning, drifting and twanging, sounding underwater one minute, weightless and spacey the next, those sounds are given a whole new context when paired with Weis's unique percussion. The drums here seem to consist mostly of a sort of soft cacophony, manic skitter, clouds of tinkling chimes, bowed cymbals, the deep tones of BIG cymbals or gongs, plenty of clatter and clang, but all sort of smeared into a living backdrop, reacting and interacting with Tuma's guitar, the result is often like a strange Souled American free jazz mashup, which might not sound good, but actually is, although elsewhere the results are a bit more subtle than that.
The guitars slip from hazy and underwater sounding, to gently shimmering, acoustic guitars unfurl woozy Appalachia, bits of twang, soft strums, all gently laid over a sea of skitter and thump, the deep shimmer of reverberating metals, the result is gorgeously murky and indistinct, less like two players playing off of each other, and more like two people contributing to the same sprawling sound. The first side plays out like the two getting acquainted, a delicate dance, their unique sounds quickly finding common ground and melting seamlessly into each other, culminating in a gorgeous track of hushed minimalism, introducing piano, Weis's percussion kept to a whispered thrum, everything wreathed in lush reverb and delay, so lovely.
The second side, features several longish tracks, where Tuma gets to try something a little more distorted and aggressive, the duo creating extended bouts of deep ominous dronemusic and thick caustic buzz, each player's contributions still distinct, at least with close listening, but step back, and the various parts take on surprising shapes, long stretches of heaving, droning, mesmerizingly meditative and surprisingly fluid drones, that manage to be warm and melodic as well as darkly mysterious.
Packaged in beautiful fold out silk screened sleeves, and LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!! ALREADY SOLD OUT!! THESE ARE THE ONLY COPIES WE'LL HAVE, EVER.

AMOCOMA Go To Hell (tUMULt) cd 13.98
Originally released as a super limited, hand made cd-r, now finally available as a proper cd, with all new artwork, remastered, and with TWO bonus tracks not on the original cd-r. Skip down to the end of the review for a bit about the bonus tracks, but before we get to that, here's what we had to say about the record when we first reviewed the cd-r:
The first thing that struck us about this debut release from Amocoma, a mysterious black metal horde from right here in San Francisco, was the cd-r cover art, a child-like pen and ink drawing of a pile of heads, but instead of being bloody or gory or horrific, they're sort of more cartoonish, like a whole slew of stick figures were decapitated, their heads tossed in a huge pile, beneath the scrawled band logo, wreathed in clouds of smeared ink. We were definitely intrigued. And if anything, once inside, we were even moreso...
Amocoma traffic in an ultra lo-fi, muddy murky blackness. It's definitely black metal, there is plenty of buzz and blast and howled vocals, but at the same time it's sort of stumbling and noise rocky, it's probably a little of both, but it's all rendered nearly indistinct by the incredibly FX drenched lo-fi production. 
Beginning with dreamy swirls of soft focus harmonics and distant rumbles, it doesn't take long for the band to lurch into action, a simple hypnotic riff, looped over and over, almost sounding more like a bass than a guitar, and not so heavy as it is trancelike. The drums are mechanical and repetitive, the vocals are howled and swathed in reverb, spread out over the proceedings like a black cloud, so much so that at times they just sound like another layer of buzz. And the more you listen, the more pretty it sounds, sure it's raw and harsh, but the melody is so hypnotic, and the swirling clouds of distortion and reverb give everything a sort of soft focus shimmer. 
We're definitely reminded of WOLD, in the sense that these little fragmented pop songs, are rendered black and buzzy by the application of super saturated distortion, tape hiss and amp buzz, reverb and delay, so even at its heaviest, it's washed out and abstract, and downright dreamy. The drone element is through the roof, and it's impossible not to hear Tim Hecker or Machinefabriek or any one of those masters of smeary dreamlike sound. At some points things get super psychedelic, like halfway through "Small Dark Sea That Was A Body" where the guitar drops out, leaving just the drums, to sort of pulse and putter in a wide open expanse of soft swirl, while drifting above are all manner of glistening guitar harmonics, spacey FX sparkles, and warm warbly melodic hum.
The tUMULt reissue tacks on two new tracks, the first, a brief three minute blur called "Crumbs", dense and chaotic, the vocals a processed bellow, buried beneath soaring saturated buzz, while all around swoop and swing furious tangles of fractured guitars and warm riffy blurs, which gives way to the nearly 12 minute closer "You Shall Yet Rise", which begins as a long sprawling creepscape, rife with synthesizer swells, and bits of crumblingly distorted guitars, it almost sounds like a black metallized Expo '70, spacey and tripped out, until the song suddenly lurches into an ultra poppy almost Viking sounding groove, all over driven and super distorted, hinting a bit at the pop that underpins much of Amocoma's blackness, the track swings wildly from corrosive blast to pounding almost doom, but stays wrapped around that weirdly fuzzy poppy galloping Maiden-y main riff, which stays looped, repeating mantra like, reminding us of a blackened Circle in fact, as the rest of the guitars get more and more tweaked and twisted. Even though it's a bonus track, this might just be one of our favorite tracks on the record!!!
Damaged and dreamy, freaked out and fucked, one of our new favorite slabs of black blurred beauty for sure... 
MPEG Stream: "Cowards Live Forever"
MPEG Stream: "Small Dark Sea That Was A Body"
MPEG Stream: "These Are Your Chocies...Darkness"
MPEG Stream: "You Shall Yet Rise"

EXPO 70 Sunglasses / Transcending Energy From Light (Trensmat) 7" 8.98
The only real downside to an Expo 70 single, is that it's ultimately frustrating in its brevity, as the music of Justin Wright, aka Expo 70 (or Expo '70, they seem to have lost the apostrophe on recent releases) is far better served by longer formats, lps, cds, and while both of these songs are indeed fantastic, it's almost criminal to cut them off after only 4 or 5 minutes, these are the sorts of sounds meant to sprawl and ooze and spread and extend for ages and ages. But as far as complaints got, it's a minor (and not entirely negative one), you'll just have to stick close by the turntable so you can lift the needle and set it right back at the beginning again.
No great surprises or strange sonic twists, just more of that thick dark gloriously heavy space kraut drone we've come to expect. The A side is some seriously deep and drone-y outer space exploration, warm languorous tones over a softly grinding and pulsing buzz, sweeping and epic and darkly mysterious, glistening melodies shifting from speaker to speaker, very new age-y for sure, but a sort of dense and blackened new age.
The B side begins all growling buzzing low end thickness, laced with space-y squiggles, long high end streaks and glimmering tones, beneath the blissy drift is a warm whirring and a softly corrosive crumble, all wound up into epic slow building swells of deeeeep deeeeep buzz. So nice.
Gorgeous full color covers, and of course LIMITED, it's already sold out from the label, so these will be the last copies we can get.

RIDE FOR REVENGE Wisdom Of The Few (Bestial Burst) cd 13.98
The long awaited return of Finnish black metal weirdos Ride For Revenge, and when we say weird, we do in fact mean WEIRD. We sort of forget about these guys when we're going on about the most fucked and damaged black metal ever, and maybe that's because their sound ends up being SO fucked up and freaky that it almost ceases being black metal entirely, instead, they seem to traffic in some sort of bass and drums, downtuned doom dirge, a series of hypnotic loops, locked riffs, all completely fractured and crumbling and confusional.
In the review of the last RfR record, King Of Snakes, we mentioned Amphetamine Reptile, and Halo Of Flies, Winter and diSEMBOWLEMENT, Gore and Circle. On Wisdom Of The Few, they continue on in that same baffling blackened trajectory resulting in a sound that off the top of our heads sounds a little like Om and Faxed Head. Right. Most metalheads we'd imagine will not be pleased, as this is seriously wacked, more textural and rhythmic than riffy and buzzy, it again sounds mostly like just bass and drums, but that's once you make it past the lurching, stumbling, guitar intro, streaks of feedback are all tangled up with a strangled reverb drenched guitar, playing out some sort of fractured atonal riff, the entire thing peppered with bits of hiss and glitch, before finally exploding into the lo-fi dirgery of the title track. A super murky muddy looped riff, pounding drums, rumbling low end, and some croaked demonic gurgles, the sound is super in the red, the drum fills peg the needles, but it still manages to sound muddy and subterranean. The drums and bass (or extremely downtuned guitar) locked into a mantra-like loop, the cymbals super hot, a relentless crash and sizzle, again reminding us of a blackened super minimal Gore. But things get even weirder. The clouds of hiss and glitch from the opening track return, and suddenly the sound is not metal so much as some sort of abstract doomy drone. A bass riff pounded out over and over and over, while around it, static crumbles and buzzes, sheets of feedback drift off in the distance, the 'groove' is peppered with little squalls of scrape and crunch, all underpinning a creepy spoken vocal.
The next track is even weirder (or perhaps just as weird), the drums wrapped in weird warped FX, pounding out a simple propulsive beat, wrapped in flanger and phaser, sounding super space-y while all around it, the gurgling demonic vocalist grunts and gurgles, over another totally mesmerizing black groove. Let's not describe the next track as weirder than the one before, cuz it's gonna seem ridiculous after a while, needless to say, it's weird in a different, equally twisted way. A deep whirring rumbling low end, a skittery almost funky krautrock beat, a heavily accented voice speaking ominously and dramatically, the voice switching from speaker to speaker, the drums shifting and subtly speeding up and slowing down, the rumbling drone-y buzz, occasionally revving up, then revving back down. Fucked up for sure, but so creepy and cool.
"Morning Won't Bring A Twinkling Star" is the longest track here, and manages to merge many of RfR's disparate elements into one epic sprawling blackened rhythmscape, a loping drum beat, a woozy seasick bassline, the drums distorted and motorik, the vocals reverbed and haunting, before slipping into a long stretch of warped low end warble and high end sine wave shimmer, before lurching back into blackened action. The record finishes off with a brief soundscape, equal parts distorted crunch, moaning feedback, downtuned flutter, minimal whirring synth, thick doomy buzz and FX drenched warble.
Woah. It's like dipping your head into a garbage disposal grinding up muddy murky chunks of Darkthrone, Aluk Todolo, Gore, Faxed Head, Circle, Urfaust, Geronimo and Lightning Bolt at 16rpm, a utterly demented and genius mix of freaked out, lobotomized black sound, a total mind melting, speaker shredding, ear punishing, minimal post black metal mind fuck. SO FUCKING AWESOME!
MPEG Stream: "Ghostship"
MPEG Stream: "Wisdom Of The Few"
MPEG Stream: "Dungeons Of The Original Sin"
MPEG Stream: "Morning Won't Bring A Twinkling Star"

AMESOEURS s/t (Profound Lore) cd 14.98
Finally! After three, years, France's Amesoeurs release their debut full length. And it's pretty shocking when you think about all the fuss these guys (and gal) have stirred up, with only FOUR songs to their name. FOUR songs in THREE YEARS. And yet, people were obsessed with those four songs, ourselves included, but hell, those four songs were fantastic, magical, barely black metal to the point where we had trouble understanding why metalheads liked it at all, but that's the thing, it managed to transcend, the songwriting is amazing, the arrangements, the production, the riffs, and mood, the ambience, Amesoeurs really are something special.
And it's not like they were doing nothing for the last three years, mainman Neige, managed to release records by his other bands, Peste Noire, Alcest, Forgotten Woods, Lantlos, in fact 3 of the four members of Amesoeurs also play in Peste Noire, but don't be expecting any of that gnarled raw black weirdness, no, Amesoeurs as most folks already know is all about melody, songcraft, it's more post rocky and shoegazey than buzzy and black, at least most of the time, and never more than on this new one. Vocalist and bassist Audrey Sylvain takes center stage here, singing most of the songs, helping Amesoeurs create a gorgeous lush sound that is so far removed from black metal, even blasts of buzz or furious riffing can't take away from its pure poppiness. Some of these songs sound like a band who should be on Slumberland not on Profound Lore.
Anyway, Amesoeurs starts off with a blast, some Joy Division-y bass, some mathy angular post rocky guitar, simple stripped down drumming, very moody and tense, almost new wave sounding, distant strings swell, until the guitars explode and the whole track is infused with buzz, creating an impossible hybrid, gorgeously achingly melodic and epic, but so buzz drenched and blackened, if the whole record had played out like this nonstop, people would have been flipping their lids (even more than they already are), but then that would take away from what makes Amesoeurs baffling and brilliant.
The second track, "Les Ruches Malades", shows no signs of blackness at all, the guitar has some bite, some crunch, but the main riff is more jangle than buzz, the bass throbs, the drums are super tight, and Audrey's vocals are front and center, this is one of those tracks that make it hard to believe metalheads get into this band at all.
Then it's back to more epic emotional blackness, buzzing, thrashing, soaring, but still jam packed with melody and moodiness, suddenly shifting to some hard rocking shoegazey jangle pop, peppered with bursts of Katatonia-like groove, before slipping into more loping rainy day bliss pop. Musically, the follow up "Recueillement" is more of the same, but here Neige adds his own shrieked black metal vox, which sound really odd draped over the minor key jangle beneath, but it also sounds kind of cool, a bit jarring for sure, but in a good way. Blackened and emotional and intense.
And so it goes, most of the record loping and jangling and shoegazing, occasionally offering up a bit of black buzz, and at least one track, "Trouble (Eveils Infames)" is pure blackness, all thrashing buzzing frenzied fury, no pop to be found, but that's the only real moment of grimninty to be found, the record is much more about melody and mood, the heaviest it gets is when Neige shrieks over some woozy melancholy jangle, and then there's the title track, that is SO new wave, straight up Cure worship, right down to the bass line and the chiming guitar parts, although Amesoeurs give it a cool twist at the end adding an awesomely jagged chugging riffy outro.
The record closes with another Katatonia style chunk of melancholy doom pop, although again, Neige roughs it up a bit with his blackened vokills, and after a brief stretch of silence, the record closes with a secret track of distorted drum machined and blurred buried melody.
Of course WE love it. C'mon! It's like if Black Tambourine were actually Black METAL Tambourine, plenty of Katatonia, Lifelover, all that off kilter blackened pop too, but it's obvious Neige and company are black metal masters (Alcest, Peste Noire, Forgotten Woods, Mortifera, right?) so even the poppiest moments are infused with a bit of blackness, no matter how subtle, and when the band do kick out the jams, like on the record opener, it's heavy and emotional in a way few other bands, black metal or otherwise, are capable of.
It might take a few listens, for some folks here it still hasn't clicked, then again it might take just one, we were smitten halfway through the first song, but then that first ep is still probably one of our most listened to records of the last several years, and if you're really in need of some blasting blackness, obviously this might not be the place to look, thankfully you don't have to look far, Neige has at least one or two other bands that'll have you covered, but if you're looking for something, gorgeous and twisted and black and dreamy and poppy and heavy and mysterious, well then, this friends, is it.
MPEG Stream: "Gas In Veins"
MPEG Stream: "Les Ruches Malades"
MPEG Stream: "Recueillement"
MPEG Stream: "Amesoeurs"

EAT SKULL Wild And Inside (Siltbreeze) cd 14.98
Something happened to Eat Skull on the way to making Wild And Inside. It seems like only yesterday we were extolling their ramshackle fucked up-ness, their last record Sick To Death, a serious bid to rule the burgeoning 'shit-gaze' scene, populated by folks like Times New Viking, Psychedelic Horseshit, and similarly fucked up noisepop deconstructionists. So we were sort of expecting Wild And Inside to be even MORE damaged and fractured, fucked up and noisy, but instead, it's jam packed with perfect pop gems, lo-fi for sure, and definitely still ramshackle, but jangly and catchy and dripping with irresistible hooks.
Similar to how Further worshipped unabashedly at the altar of the Beach Boys on their Golden Grimes record, on Wild And Inside, Eat Skull seem to be flitting from pop group to pop group, whether it's Guided By Voices, the Lemonheads, Strapping Fieldhands, dour eighties new wave or those Nuggets psych pop collections, it seems like the band spent all the time between records just absorbing all sorts of nineties indie rock, old school jangle pop, classic power pop, and whatever else they could lay their ears on, and now they're just letting it all sort of ooze out, and in the process they've most definitely made it their own.
In interviews, Eat Skull frontman Rob Enbom claims, this is what they were shooting for all along, that the first record sounded the way it did because they were broke and were stuck with super shitty equipment, and while that may be true to a certain extent, there's some seriously superior pop smithery happening on Wild And Inside, it's not hard to imagine what this record might have sounded like with all the grit and grime cleared away, and if they had recorded in a real studio, but who the hell would want to hear that? Eat Skull sound fine just the way they are, noisy and poppy and sloppy and lo-fi, every song a gorgeously hook filled sunshine-y effects laden fractured and fuzzy noise pop gem.
Folks who were into the sheer mayhem and caustic crumbling noise damage of the first record might be a bit disappointed, but so what, there's plenty of that to be found elsewhere these days, for the rest of us, it's kind of refreshing to get a glimpse of the pop magic so often obscured.
MPEG Stream: "Stick To The Formula"
MPEG Stream: "Cooking A Way To Be Happy"
MPEG Stream: "Heaven's Stranger"
MPEG Stream: "You're With A Thing"

MONO Hymn To The Immortal Wind (Temporary Residence) 2lp 17.98
There was perhaps a time, when Japanese post rockers Mono were just that, a post rock group, but that time is long gone, now, they are anything but, or more accurately, so much more.
Mono take the soaring sweeping epics of groups like Godspeed into an entirely different dimension. Their sound is so grandiose, so emotional, so absolutley and stunningly epic, that it almost ceases to be rock. Sure there's plenty of rock like bombast, many of the songs culminate in a huge flurry of crashing drums and soaring guitars, but in the grand scheme of Mono's sound, those moments are fleeting. Like the old adage that it's more about the journey than the destination, the sound of Mono is all about the journey, the band weave elaborate soundscapes, that smolder and glow, rhythms pulse and throb, guitars are blurred into lush sonic backdrops, melodies are delicate and crystalline, the sound while instrumental, manages to sound choral, a sky full of weeping strings and angelic hymns. We can only assume that if Arvo Part, or Morton Feldman started a rock band, it would sound something like Mono. Hymn is like some post rock score to a massive role playing game, Final Fantasy 100 or something.... How can you not envision sweeping vistas, endless seas, crumbling cities, heaving seas beneath blackened skies, these sounds evoke so much emotion (this is REAL emo!) and passion, it does seem almost too reductive to call them a post rock band, or to call this 'rock', to us it sounds more like a symphony played by a rock band, or better yet a symphony attempting to play rock music, the result is grand, majestic, moving, stirring, something more momentous than a mere record, or a rock concert, Mono manage to conjure up a sound that seems to be alive, living, something capable of adapting and growing, every song sounding like a collection of sounds blossoming into still greater sounds, eventually a field of blossoming sound becoming Mono. It sometimes sounds like the most dramatic moments from every film you've ever seen distilled and converted into sound, then arranged into music... hyperbole? Probably. But the more we listen to Hymn To The Immortal, the more we're convinced that there's something truly magical going on here. And somehow, without even realizing it, we've listened to this record about 20 times in the last few days, which is most definitely saying something...
MPEG Stream: "Ashes In The Snow"
MPEG Stream: "Burial At Sea"
MPEG Stream: "Silent Flight, Sleeping Dawn"

FOOD s/t (MolSook) lp 11.98
Another bad ass chunk of pounding post punk math rock heaviness from Virginia. We raved about Tigershark a while back, some seriously chugging riffery, then The Catalyst more recently, who knocked us on our asses with their weird post hardcore stoner grunge screamo (we still have a few of those left, check elsewhere on the aQ site), not sure if Food are related, but they might as well be, they're heavy as fuck, and offer up a similarly supercharged post punk, but while The Catalyst and Tigershark both channeled AmRep (The Catalyst mixing in plenty of Sub Pop), Food take that sound even farther, with their super thick distorted fuzzed out guitars, pounding caveman drums and thick ropy bass, they weave a pretty thick, almost dirgey at times, post punky metallic garage rock stomp, but it's the vocals that seal the deal, a wild feral howl, falling right between Rick Froberg of Drive Like Jehu / Hot Snakes and Mudhoney's Mark Arm, plenty of vitriol and swagger, and a paint peeling yowl that perfectly compliments Food, chug and churn.
Dense loping grooves give way to stripped down tribal workouts, give way to complex mathy jams, which give way to seriously murky, dirge-y, almost Brainbombs-ish sludge, slathered with plenty of squealing Eyehategod style feedback, and all locked into pounding metallic repetition. Some seriously killer garage-y metallic post punk for sure.
Incredible packaging, eye popping cover art, all recycled materials, heavy printed insert, and pressed on INSANELY thick vinyl. And probably pretty limited too.

VIOLET Violet Ray Gas And The Playback Singers (Sentient Recognition Archive / Zeromoon) cd 10.98
When we were first told about this Violet record, it was described to us as a noise record, and we just sort of assumed Violet was the woman making the noise, when in fact, Violet Ray Gas And The Playback Singers is way more of an experimental drone record, and Violet is the name of the group, which in fact is the work of one fella, Jeff Surak, but none of that really matters, what does, is that this record is amazing. Dark and mysterious, mixing in bits of Jeck and Tim Hecker, Wolf Eyes, blending them into Violet's ominous world of sound.
There's feedback all over the place, but it's far from harsh or jagged, instead it's used like color, to paint greyed out landscapes burnished reds, and melted oranges, thick tones, reverberating chimes, bits of buzz and crunch, disembodied voices, intercepted broadcasts, clouds of hiss, chugging machinery, industrial sonic detritus, warped strings, woozy synths, all wound up into dense walls of sound one second, blurred into delicate crystalline lattices the next.
"Plague Numbers" is total Jeck, a skipping scratched record smeared into a gauzy washed out living portrait of sound, indistinct figures, flitting shadows, mysterious shapes, all moving as if through a thick field of static, not even four minutes, but we found ourselves wishing it would never end.
Elsewhere the sound of lapping water is swallowed up by a crackling crumbling fog of burnt melodies, and slowed down riffs, a sort of sun dappled lysergic sonic swirl. The title track is a tuning up orchestra stretched out into a softly chaotic symphony of angular tones and fractured melodies, of sine waves and groaning creaking low end rumbles, augmented by curious crackles and strands of distortion arranged in patterns resembling speech, but rendered in impressionistic shards, finishing off with a gorgeous high end ur-drone, a softer Sunroof!, a field of static bagpipes, their overtones creating otherworldly patterns in the ether. Gorgeous.
MPEG Stream: "All Records Collapse"
MPEG Stream: "Plague Numbers"
MPEG Stream: "Violet Ray Gas"

CHERRY, DON & LATIF KHAN Music / Sangam (Heavenly Sweetness) cd 22.00
We rave about jazz legend Don Cherry as often as we can. Every reissue has us all in a tizzy. In the past we made his mind blowing Orient an aQ record Of The Week. And in retrospect, we probably should have made the Blue Lake reissue a ROTW as well. Cherry was continually pushing the boundaries of jazz, exploring and helping shape free jazz, and incorporating all manner of world music into his ever changing and expanding sound.
This disc, recorded in 1978, found Cherry once again reimagining the sound of jazz, and challenging unadventurous jazz fans, by teaming up with legendary Indian percussionist Ustad Ahmed Latif Khan. Cherry had experimented with Indian music before on past recordings, but this was the first full on collaboration. Two sides, one featuring Cherry compositions, accompanied by Khan on tablas, the other side, Khan compositions, the tablas more of the driving force, the sound distinctly more Indian classical, with Cherry accompanying Khan.
The untitled opener finds Cherry and Khan covering Ornette Coleman, Cherry's former band leader. It's a dark brooding shuffle, all warm keyboard grooves, and the tablas, how they change everything, the skittery rhythms, but also the strange rubbery low end, the song eventually morphs into a Cherry original, and gets a bit proggy with wild trumpets and thick organs, the tablas still driving the whole thing. It's the next track where it gets really interesting though. A sprawling rhythmscape, the tablas doing double time, the rhythm, and a pulsing sort-of-bass line, Cherry delivering abstract almost scat like falsetto vocals, dark and drone-y and spaced out and minimal, peppered with occasional bursts of wild horn skronk, but for the most part, a swirling tripped out stretch of throbbing subtly psychedelic jazz minimalism. The final Cherry composed track is another gem, all glistening chimes and high end tones, flurries of piano, distant horns, whooshing effects, and of course the skitter of the tablas, more melodic almost that rhythmic on this track. Cherry also introduces some flute, which gives the track a sort of freak folk vibe, really!
Khan's side is distinctly less jazz. The tablas way up in the mix, his dexterous rhythms totally spellbinding, intricate, and again melodic, Cherry offering up strange bits of percussion, muted keyboards, very abstract and so cool. The final track, a sprawling 13 minute epic begins with just organ, drifting in space, until the tablas come in, and holy shit, even more intense and intricate, wreathed in a bit of reverb, and slipping from loping grooves to wild bursts of impossibly complex rhythmatism, the organ, a constant warm whir in the background, and the timbre of the keyboards, continues to infuse the track with a distinctly prog feel. Making this some sort of abstract classical Indian jazz prog? Whatever you want to call it, these are some gorgeously hypnotic and meditative sounds. So very recommended. Fans of the Necks might get into this too, similarly dark minimal vibe, especially the Khan tracks, and well worth checking out for the rest of you, even if jazz isn't normally your thing.
MPEG Stream: "One Dance"
MPEG Stream: "Air Mail"
MPEG Stream: "Sangam"

RED RED MEAT Bunny Gets Paid (Deluxe) (Sub Pop) 2cd 14.98
Red Red Meat barely get a mention on the aQuarius website, mostly in reviews of post-RRM outfit Califone, but as with many bands, that has more to do with timing than anything, predating as they did our New Arrivals list. If there was time, we can think of hundreds of bands we'd love to revisit and give their due. And Red Red Meat would definitely be at the top of the list for some of us. So this deluxe expanded reissue of RRM's 3rd, and arguably best, record makes now as good a time as any to gush a bit about one of our favorite records of the nineties.
When Sub Pop began expanding its focus beyond grunge, signing all sorts of bands, from pop to country, slowcore to garage rock, they definitely lost a lot of their hardcore buy-anything-on-Sub-Pop fans. But for many of us, no matter how into the grunge years we were (and believe you me, some of us were WAY into grunge), this shift marked the beginning of Sub Pop's transition into more than a regional label focused on a single sound, and is precisely why Sub Pop continues to thrive while so many other labels fell by the wayside. Among those un-traditionally Sub Pop sounding bands were groups like Codeine, Rein Sanction, Hardship Post, Jale and Red Red Meat, all of which ended up loving as much as if not more than all the classic grunge mainstays.
But Red Red Meat, there was just really something special about these guys. They were sort of country, definitely fitting loosely into the burgeoning alt-country movement, but they were so much more, their twang was rooted in a sort of timeless rock, but at the same time it was infused with a druggy warble, wreathed in hazy swirls of whirs and drones, the guitars were murky and muddy, the slide guitar slippery slithery, frontman Tim Rutili's vocals were weary and washed out, emotional, but laid back and slurred, perfectly complimenting the band's warped warble.
Bunny Gets Paid, originally released in 1995, found the band pushing their sound even further out, the sound still recognizably Red Red Meat, but from record opener "Carpet Of Horses", the band seemed determined to create some sort of 'classic' bit of drone drenched country blues. Lazily strummed acoustic guitars draped over a whirring fuzzy pulsing drone, the vocals appropriately melancholy, rough and ragged, allowed to drift over the slow shifting drone beneath, almost no percussion, very little structure, the song a living breathing bit of spaced out dream folk, incredible (and incredibly subtle) melodies, a killer main hook, all left to just sort of shimmer and hover and sprawl, sun baked and druggy, like some sort of drugfolk raga, definitely prescient, unwittingly laying out the blueprint for new weird America or freak folk or whatever you want to call it a decade later.
But Bunny Gets Paid is not all sprawling oozing melting slow motion blues, the band do rock, "Chain Chain Chain" is some classic sounding nineties indie rock and roll, reminding us of a more classic rock sounding Grifters, but still not losing any of their wooze or warble, the record doused in effects, guitars warped, alternatingly crunchy and jagged, bluesy and ooze-y. "Buttered" is a total heartbreaker, thick steel string strum and twang, subtle strings, effects dappled ambience, thick swaths of whirring drone, the whole thing managing to sound intimate and bedroomy, but also epic and timeless.
The classic track here though has to be "Gauze", a moody minor key lope, so laid back and soporific, the guitars spidery and translucent, the vocals seemingly an afterthought, the drums a simple shuffle, lush and intimate and hushed, until the chorus, another gut wrenching heartbreaker, the vocals wrapped in almost Butthole Surfers FX, but done so deftly, that instead of sounding weird or fucked up, it just sound perfect, delivering a total break up /make up mix tape refrain to die for. And so it goes. "Idiot Son" is a the Rolling Stones filtered through nineties indie rock and busted four tracks (with more nods to the Grifters), "Bunny Gets Paid" is another meandering druggy droney drift, disembodied vocals, fragmented guitars and skittery percussion, and another killer hook buried in the murk and mire, and the record continues to unfurl, in all its hazy, lazy, dreamy, wasted, late afternoon, too many beers and broken hearts glory, finishing off with a 2 minute bit of near perfect bedroom folk, peppered with singing strings, reverbed piano, all wrapped around Rituli's gorgeously weathered croon.
Absolutely one of our all time favorite records ever. There's a whole bonus disc too, which we'll get to in a second, but the record itself is reason enough to pick this up, especially if somehow you've never heard it. Anyone into Califone, Calexico, Souled American, Giant Sand, Neko Case, Ryan Adams, should absolutely pick this up, and any one into the current crop of freak folk and drone psych who aren't adverse to actual songs, might dig this too.
The bonus disc of b-sides, alternate versions and covers, makes this essential, even for folks like us who already have it. A 4-track demo of "Chain Chain Chain", less rocking, all stripped down and appropriately lo-fi and languid, a single version of "Idiot Son" that finds the song stretched out even further. Record opener "Carpet Of Horses" gets reworked into a pounding dirge, way more rocking and heavy than the original, but still just as darkly evocative, and FOUR unreleased tracks, one a weird dub workout, the other three wonderfully weird warbly rockers (one rife with horns) that don't sound at all out of place alongside the rest of Bunny Gets Paid.
And the super iconic doll's head in the tipped over glass cover art gets a deluxe reimagining, a massive fold out multi panel digipak inside a swank slipcover, with a thick booklet, jammed with photos, original covers and artwork, as well as some newly penned liner notes from band members and Red Red Meat fans including members of the Shins, the Fruit Bats, Modest Mouse and others!
MPEG Stream: "Carpet Of Horses"
MPEG Stream: "Gauze"
MPEG Stream: "Buttered"
MPEG Stream: "There's Always Tomorrow"

V/A Speed Dating (No. 6) 2cd 14.98
This double disc compilation is a music geek time machine. For a handful of you, these collected singles will immediately tranport you right back to your bedroom, where you'll find yourself laying on your bed, headphones on, a messy pile of 7"s spread out on the bed in front of you, as you meticulously assemble the perfect mixtape. And for those of you who somehow missed out on this stuff, holy shit are you in for a treat!
Some of the best singles ever released on the super cool No. 6 label, run by legendary A&R man Terry Tolkin.
Highlights include the two Ornament tracks, which was a short lived group featuring the Afghan Whigs and Marcy Mays of Scrawl, doing a killer cover of "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow", appearing here on cd for the first time, the very first Dwarves single, a filthy, heavy drug fueled racket, the first two post Galaxie 500 songs from Dean Wareham, the very frist US Tindersticks release, two killer versions of Unrest's "Winona Ryder", the Cagney And Lacee single, which was Dean Wareham and his wife, some brooding noisy creep fron King Carcass, and Bewitched, Bob Bert of Sonic Youth's sort of solo project band thingie. All that and some lesser knowns who still kicked ass: Vegetarian Meat, Pork and Glue! This stuff is so good, and has definitely stood the test of time. Hate to sound like old fogies, but they sure don't make indie pop like this anymore...
MPEG Stream: ORNAMENT "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?"
MPEG Stream: DWARVES "Free Cocaine"
MPEG Stream: DEAN WAREHAM "Anesthesia"
MPEG Stream: UNREST "Winona Ryder (XX)"
MPEG Stream: CAGNEY & LACEE "Time"

ANTAEUS / KATHARSIS split (Norma Evangelium Diaboli) 7" 11.98
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
Been a little while since we've heard from either of these legendary black metal hordes, one French, one German, but who share much in common sonically, and if you're anything like us, you probably saw the names Katharsis and Antaeus on the same record and already decided this was essential and hurled it into your cart, and you know what? You would be RIGHT. Two new killer blasts of frenzied and gloriously fucked up blackness, both bands offer up something slightly different, but still plenty in keeping with their sound respective sounds.
Up first is Katharsis, or at least that's the side we listened to first, and it DESTROYS!! A blurred expanse of relentlessly buzzing guitars and buried blast beats all murky and muted, a swirling sort of blackness, hovering beneath a creepy deep voice, intoning, testifying, speaking in tongues (?) before the band explodes into a super fast, ultra furious squall of swirling buzzing black metal fury, the vocals really loud and way up in the mix, gargling and growling and slipping into wild falsetto shrieks, doused in reverb and delay, there is also some super surprising poppiness that surfaces during the bridge, super melodic bits all tangled up with the thrashing flailing buzz beneath it, as well as some awesome crazed super shredding guitar leads. Definitely weird, but still completely amazing. Dying for a full length more than ever.
Antaeus have been MIA even longer than Katharsis, and their track, while still pretty ruling, sounds like it could be a demo, or rehearsal, or outtake, but because of that, it gives the song a seriously fucked up and freaked out vibe. After a mysterious blackened industrial drone intro, the band launches into a super fast, almost looped sounding blast, the drums sounds like a machine, except for the strange flurry of fills, the guitars super brittle and buzzy and backed off in the mix, the flurries of lightning fast kick drums are WAY up in the mix, along with the vocals, so much so that it almost sounds like just vocals and drums, with a backdrop of swirling distant buzz. Not as epic and crushing as their records proper, but still plenty heavy and buzzy and black.
Housed in a beautiful printed heavy cardstock sleeve, inside there's a fold out poster sized insert with artwork and liner notes, and the record itself is pressed on some of the thickest vinyl EVER.
ALREADY OUT OF PRINT, so these are the last copies we'll likely be able to get!

BASTARD NOISE, THE Rogue Astronaut (Gravity) cd 14.98
We love Man Is The Bastard. Always have. So we wanted to love Bastard Noise as well. And we did, once in a while, but we might as well fess up, the thing that kept us from truly embracing Bastard Noise, was in fact, the NOISE. Allan may be into his speaker shredding Japanoise, and Jim definitely loves his minimal grind and glitch, but for the most part, noise music has generally left us a bit cold. That's not to say there haven't been exceptions, there most definitely have, and those exceptions tend to be when the noise is less 'noisy' and more drone-y or textural or dynamic or all three. Our favorite Merzbow records tend to be the ones where Masami Akita isn't just spewing a face full of hot white noise. Our favorite noise records to tend toward the dronier more ambient side of the noise spectrum. So there have definitely been some Bastard Noise jams that have totally hit the spot, Descent To Mimas was one, released on Ground Fault, and Rogue Astronaut is definitely another, just out on Gravity. Rogue Astronaut seems to be sonically and thematically a sort of continuation of Descent To Mimas. Another noise opera of sorts, a tale of post apocalyptic space travel, of dead satellites and a withered Earth, of floating alone through space, of the endless expanse and the soul shearing loneliness of the Rogue Astronaut.
Much like Mimas, and our favorite noise records, the sounds on Rogue Astronaut are less harsh and heavy, and more atmospheric and textural, the ten minute opener, even features haunting falsetto vocals set amidst an expansive drift of analog buzz and electronic squelch, layered drone, and a symphony of upper register tones, the sounds are noticeably Bastard like, raw and corrosive and analog and lo-fi, but deftly arranged into epic sweeping dronescapes and noisescapes, slipping from minimal buzz and glitch to full on fuzzed out malfunctioning electronic roar.
Track two, "Ryobi Party" sounds a bit like another post Bastard project, Geronimo, only with the drums stripped away, and the addition of gurgling demonic vokills. The twenty minute title track is gorgeous and space-y, the tones and sounds and textures allowed to sprawl and spread out, set amidst a lush backdrop of reverbed black shimmer, and deep ominous drones, the squelches and glitches like lost radio broadcasts, drifting aimlessly through the inky blackness of space. Sheets of feedback are muted into layered high end whirs, the 'noise' is allowed to hover and float and change shapes and transform, the track is almost like some strange beast made out of sound, captured so we can observe it in captivity, watching as it morphs before our very eyes, a sonic representation of what lies beyond. The track is less about noise, and more about ambience, and mood, and it does create an intense and ominous and super evocative cinematic soundworld.
The last three tracks cycle through the various shades of noise and space, highlighted by the darkly delicate "Moonpool Team", which begins as a hushed ultra minimal drift, before it transforms into a groovy, moody, reverby almost Eastern sounding bit of abstract soundtrack music, like it could have come from some crazy lost sixties space epic, gorgeous soaring vocals, the grinding electronics muted and smeared into almost melodies, peppered with the occasional violent squall, but for the most part, a gorgeous languid landscape of deep bell like tones and swirling space-y noise flecked shimmer.
Gorgeous packaging too. Metal foil stamped booklet that folds out into a poster, with full color inserts/cards as well as a sticker.
MPEG Stream: "Tyranny Beyond Earth"
MPEG Stream: "Ryobi Party"
MPEG Stream: "Radioactive Sunrise"

FROZEN CLOAK s/t (self-released) lp 12.98
When we first heard about Frozen Cloak, the way they were described to us, was: one of the guys from Reeks And The Wrecks doing black metal! WOAH! We knew we had to hear that. Well, we finally did, and guess what? That description was pretty much entirely NOT accurate, but the good news was, that the actual sound ended up being way more weird and warped and super cool.
Frozen Cloak are definitely buzzy, and dark, and heavy, but in some ways the sound's not all that removed from the weird and wonderful world of the Reeks. The guitars (two of em) are WAY blown out, thick and crunchy and dripping with buzz, the opening track takes that guitar and some cool chaotic drumming and locks it into a sort of loop, repetitive and circular and hypnotic and a bit like a heavier, buzzier Lungfish, a single glorious groovy riff, pounded out, over and over and over, a little bit doomy, definitely stonery, but lurching and groovy and metallic. The song after that is way more out there and abstract, the guitar reverbed and heavily effected, distortion so thick it's crumbling out of the speakers, murky, lo-fi, on the verge of collapsing into a total black hole, a sort of blackened folk flecked downtuned free drone freakout, but shot through with warbly melodies and buried rhythms, the record sort of balances between those two extremes, fuzzy, buzzy, repetitive metallic hypnorock groove, and woozy warped abstract chaotic free for all, the best moments of course being when the two collide.
There are horns now too apparently, not on this record, but can't wait to hear what sort of Reeks-like warble and wooz that'll add to their sound.
Like the Reeks before them, this is just really hard to do justice to with mere words, wish we could make sound samples, but you can check out their MySpace. Regardless, this is most definitely some gloriously off kilter outsider abstract heaviness, groovy and a little bit metal, super hypnotic and so fucking good. And anyone who loved the Reeks And The Wrecks will probably end up digging this bigtime too.
Pressed on milky clear vinyl, shot through here and there with little tendrils of color, housed in a thick full color jacked, with super cool images and very little actual info. WAY RECOMMENDED!

OBITS I Blame You (Sub Pop) cd 13.98
We know, we know, it's too much to hope for, and it's never gonna happen, but somehow we just can't seem to stop thinking about it, and we're sure these guys are sick of hearing it too, and will no doubt be annoyed that it gets mentioned in ANOTHER review, but heck, that's what happens when your frontman fronted one of the greatest post punk bands of all time! And yeah, we're talking about a Drive Like Jehu reunion, and yeah, we called them post punk, cuz what else do you call a band like that, a band that is essentially sounds like no one else. But whatever, we're wiping it from our minds. Then though, there's Hot Snakes to contend with Rick From Jehu's post-Jehu and pre-Obits combo, who were nothing like Jehu, but instead were a raw, sloppy, garage-y ball of super rocking fire. Which brings us to the Obits, who on first listen do in fact sound quite a bit like the Hot Snakes, due in no small part to the fact that it's Rick Froberg (or as Rick From Jehu as he's still know to many) singing and playing guitar, but this is altogether something new, a bit more refined and perhaps, a little like an older wiser Hot Snakes maybe, where the Hot Snakes were all pent up aggression, and wild thrashing garage stomp, the Obits traffic in something much more measured, but no less rocking. Still garage-y and super stomping, but tighter, more varied. Froberg sings as much as he howls and wails, the guitars here don't just crash and clang, they shimmer and twang, there's definitely a surf element, the drums crisp and tight, the guitars spidery and crystalline more than crunchy and heavy. These guys played at our SXSW showcase and were awesome, so kick ass and energetic, and so so tight, taking that garage rock thing they have down pat and adding in all sorts of unlikely -other- stuff, some Beefheart bits, plenty of Mudhoney rawk swagger, but all filtered through the Obits unique take on rock and roll, and that's basically what this is, rock and roll, not punk rock, not post punk, not post rock. Just rock, or okay, maybe RAWK.
Needless to say, if you're a fan of any of Froberg's bands, especially Hot Snakes, this will definitely hit the spot. But even if you don't know what the hell we're talking about, Jehu this, Hot Snakes that, as long as you're into bad ass rock and roll, groovy garage, indie jangle, or any combination thereof, you should definitely check these guys out.
Cool packaging too (Froberg's an incredible artist as well btw!), all vintage and old comic book looking, the cd is in a cool Japanese style mini gatefold jacket with an equally cool (sort of creepy) printed inner sleeve, the lp similarly housed...
MPEG Stream: "Widow Of My Dreams"
MPEG Stream: "Pine On"
MPEG Stream: "Fake Kinkade"

OBITS I Blame You (Sub Pop) lp 14.98
We know, we know, it's too much to hope for, and it's never gonna happen, but somehow we just can't seem to stop thinking about it, and we're sure these guys are sick of hearing it too, and will no doubt be annoyed that it gets mentioned in ANOTHER review, but heck, that's what happens when your frontman fronted one of the greatest post punk bands of all time! And yeah, we're talking about a Drive Like Jehu reunion, and yeah, we called them post punk, cuz what else do you call a band like that, a band that is essentially sounds like no one else. But whatever, we're wiping it from our minds. Then though, there's Hot Snakes to contend with Rick From Jehu's post-Jehu and pre-Obits combo, who were nothing like Jehu, but instead were a raw, sloppy, garage-y ball of super rocking fire. Which brings us to the Obits, who on first listen do in fact sound quite a bit like the Hot Snakes, due in no small part to the fact that it's Rick Froberg (or as Rick From Jehu as he's still know to many) singing and playing guitar, but this is altogether something new, a bit more refined and perhaps, a little like an older wiser Hot Snakes maybe, where the Hot Snakes were all pent up aggression, and wild thrashing garage stomp, the Obits traffic in something much more measured, but no less rocking. Still garage-y and super stomping, but tighter, more varied. Froberg sings as much as he howls and wails, the guitars here don't just crash and clang, they shimmer and twang, there's definitely a surf element, the drums crisp and tight, the guitars spidery and crystalline more than crunchy and heavy. These guys played at our SXSW showcase and were awesome, so kick ass and energetic, and so so tight, taking that garage rock thing they have down pat and adding in all sorts of unlikely -other- stuff, some Beefheart bits, plenty of Mudhoney rawk swagger, but all filtered through the Obits unique take on rock and roll, and that's basically what this is, rock and roll, not punk rock, not post punk, not post rock. Just rock, or okay, maybe RAWK.
Needless to say, if you're a fan of any of Froberg's bands, especially Hot Snakes, this will definitely hit the spot. But even if you don't know what the hell we're talking about, Jehu this, Hot Snakes that, as long as you're into bad ass rock and roll, groovy garage, indie jangle, or any combination thereof, you should definitely check these guys out.
Cool packaging too (Froberg's an incredible artist as well btw!), all vintage and old comic book looking, the cd is in a cool Japanese style mini gatefold jacket with an equally cool (sort of creepy) printed inner sleeve, the lp similarly housed...
MPEG Stream: "Widow Of My Dreams"
MPEG Stream: "Pine On"
MPEG Stream: "Fake Kinkade"