KIKURI (HAINO, KEIJI & MASAMI AKITA) Pulverized Purple (Victo) cd 15.98
Oh boy. It had to happen. And it did, at 2007's Festival International de Musique Actuelle in Victoriaville, Quebec. Kikuri is the heavyweight team up of two folks who cast long shadows in the realm of Japanese underground music: Japanoise master Merzbow (for he is Masami Akita) and that totemic Tokyo psych veteran, Keiji Haino, longtime leader of the free rock band Fushitsusha. There they are in the photo on the inside of the cd booklet, Haino and Akita both standing stoically in a leafy green forest... hey has Haino's hair turned grey, a la J. Mascis (with bangs)?? It's about time (not for the grey, for the team up). Haino has collaborated recently with Tatsuya Yoshida of Ruins (including another highlight on this week's list!), and KK Null of Zeni Geva, and some years back with all of Boris, but this one's definitely as earthshaking (literally) as any of those, if not moreso.
So, think this might be dark, dense, and noisy? You're right! Putting this on is like telling your stereo, wake up, time to die!!! The first four of five tracks on this disc are all extreme, crinkled, screaming, disssstorrtted NOISE. It's interestingly varied, and very Merzbovian - although the cryptic, wordy song titles which are definitely the work of poetic soul Keiji Haino... such as: "Give Me Back That Colour You Stole From My Guts" (track 3) and "That Place Into Which You Fell Was Lined With A Cushion Of Pain And Is No Proof Of You Continuing Existence" (track 4). Yep, these initial four tracks of brutal catharsis, all but one of them over 10 minutes long, are quite excellent if you're a Merzbow fan, though those who know Haino will definitely be able to hear his input too, beyond the titles. The track "By Mischance That Soul I Devoured Was A Transparent, Vertical Blues" features bursts of his trademark tortured vocals amidst the throbbing hissing static that could be the work of either party. (Making it more of a "blues" is an outsider guitar part, well we think that's a guitar, plucked probably by Haino.) In any case, up to track five, this disc sounds most like Merzbow, with Haino as a special guest. But then, tipping the balance back towards Haino and his special brand of electric guitar apocalypse, comes the disc's last and longest track, with the shortest title, "Pulverized Purple". That's got to be Haino's title too, 'cause he has always had a thing about the color purple, no not the Alice Walker book. It takes up about half the disc, over 30 minutes long. And while it too is plenty distorted and noisy, like what came before it, it also features gobs and gobs of totally recognizable-as-guitar guitar playing, sheer howling psychedelic feedback style, that had even Andee here (who normally is a Haino hater, weirdly enough, and also thinks he's heard enough Merzbow already) declaring that this was fantastic. Heavy, heavy, droney, droney, and definitely worth the price of admission even if you maybe wouldn't normally buy a Merzbow record. Allan, who IS a big Haino fan, is happy that Andee has finally found something he likes by Haino (in large part 'cause it downplays his distinctive vocal stylings in favor of the way out heavy guitar wailin'). Shut up and play yer guitar is Andee's advice for Haino, and he takes it here. This is definitely something for fans of Fushitsusha (natch), Skullflower, White Heaven, Boris, Brotzmann (Caspar), Les Rallizes, LSD-march... The thick feedback wranglin' and added buzz and hiss sounds a bit like Hendrix' famous "Star Spangled Banner" trip given Striborg-style production!! Meanwhile, Masami Akita gets behind the kit to provide urgent drum tumble and cymbal splatter, reminding us that he played drums on that ol' krautrocky Crystal Fist cd that was a fave 'round here some years back. Damn. Recommended!
MPEG Stream: "Give Me Back That Colour You Stole From My Guts"
MPEG Stream: "Pulverized Purple"

SHIT AND SHINE Kuss Miche, Meine Liebe (Load) cd 15.98
Ahhh, Shit And Shine, even the name give us the warm fuzzies. That's because multiple drummer-ed lawn mower bass tribal drug jams often do. And no one does it better, or quite like the UK's Shit And Shine. With a constantly shifting lineup that often swells to double digits, including as many drummers as they can pack into a room. And a wall of amplifiers that makes SUNNO))) seem like they're playing through practice amps, several bass players, often just a phalanx of shitty Casio keyboards, howling vocals, all tangled up into a heaving mass of post-Butthole Surfers drug psych heaviness.
Much like the cd reissue of Cherry (last week's Record Of The Week), Kuss Mich, Meine Liebe is not entirely brand new, the two longest tracks we've had before on a super limited, crazy expensive lp, but here on cd for the very first time. Along with one other loooooooong jam, and a handful of shorter, but no less appealing chunks of what-the-fuck tribal psych-out heaviness.
Let's cover the tracks we've heard before. "Biggest Cock In Christendom" is an in-the-red tribal workout, like a more metallic and way more distorted and druggy No Neck Blues Band. Or a WAY heavier Chain Reaction disc. Thick pulses of low end drift beneath streaks of super distorted amp damage, all very krautrock sounding, but filtered through a bank of effects pedals, all broken or with dying batteries. Definitely blissed out and mesmerizing, but so ominous and creepy. This is the shit musical dreams are made of. 15 minutes of this stuff is not nearly enough. Set it to repeat, drink a bottle of Nyquil and let yourself get sucked under. The other track from the 12", "Toilet Door Tits", is an endless rhythmic jam, with ultra blown out drums, sounding a bit like some Butthole Surfers / Laddio Bolocko hybrid, albeit WAY more distorted and damaged. The sound is completely fried, the whole track sounding like it's crumbling through your speakers, strangled vocals drift amidst the tribal pummel, as do weird alien sounding squiggly leads that squirm and slither from speaker to speaker giving the whole track a super disorienting effect.
The other long track on Kuss Mich is the epic and drowsily sprawling "Preventions Arise", 10 minutes of muted almost industrial sounding rhythms, way more moody and washed out than the other tracks, an endless muddy murky rhythmic jam, pulsing and throbbing, a propulsive groove beneath a very noir spoken word. Strange but a good balance to the sheer brutality of the other tracks.
Scattered all around these three massive jams are jagged little chunks of shiny shit, blasts of noise and crunch and buzz and pound, from brief flurries of machine like grind, furious blast beats, and stuttering off kilter rhythms, to total Buttholes worship, pounding tribal rhythm, buzzing fuzz guitar, hypnotic and intense, to tripped out abstract skitter, all warbly distorted bass, and processed vox, to huge blown out chug and churn, heavy and epic and massively distorted and blown out.
Once again, more proof that these guys (and gals) are the current reigning kings and queens of crushing chaotic drugged out drone drenched drum corps psych-doom heaviness.
Killer packaging, very simple and cryptic, shit brown paper and metallic gold ink shine!
MPEG Stream: "Biggest Cock In Christendom"
MPEG Stream: "The Germans Call It A Swimming Head"
MPEG Stream: "Kuss Miche, Meine Liebe"

BALDWIN, MATT Paths Of Ignition (American Dust) cd 14.98
We love our modern Appalachia, tangled steel strings, gorgeous sprawling avant bluegrass, Fahey, Jack Rose, James Blackshaw, Ilyas Ahmed, it's a crowded field, but all the key players manage to create something much more special than just a Fahey rehash. Sure there are tons of folks out there with a guitar, a heavily worn copy of Death Chants, and not an original musical idea in their head, but there are the few, like the above folks mentioned, who took that sound, and were inspired to create their own soundworlds. You can add Matt Baldwin to that list.
It's a little hard to put a finger on what exactly makes Baldwin's sound so special, it could be more of a focus on classic melody, than on pick and strum, the opening track on Paths Of Ignition darkly unfurls into a warm whirring pastoral guitarscape, lots of major key melodies, unlikely harmonies, strange bits of slippery slide, and plenty of electric guitar buzz, some soaring growling leads, all woven into some haunting raga infused psychedelic space folk. The whole track is laced with tangles of wild almost-shredding guitar, deep resonant drones, swirling little melodic flourishes, it all transforms -his- take on Appalachia into something much more tripped out, psych rock and almost poppy in its prettiness.
The rest of the disc hews a little closer to the neo-Appalachia party line, but even then, his tracks slither and buzz, lots of haunting guitar rumble, intricate finger picking, delicate melodies, dreamy and drifty, mysterious and timeless. Except the one cover, the song that actually got us interested in Baldwin in the first place. It's only 4 minutes long, but it's a killer. Baldwin takes on Judas Priest's "Winter" and nails it. The main riff of the original sounds perfect on a steel string, brooding and ominous, beneath that guitar deep swells of buzzing guitardrone pulses and throbs, and the vocals, Baldwin does a pretty excellent Halford, a reverb drenched high pitched croon, complete with vibrato and little trills, the track finishes off with some killer lead guitar, sprawled over that gorgeous languorous main riff, that seems to slither and drift on forever.
Any one into the current crop of modern Appalachian / neo-folk / whatever-you-call-it guitar music will definitely dig this, and while it's worth it for the Priest cover alone, the whole record is pretty fantastic. Now it's up to Blackshaw to cover some old Scorpions, or Rose to take on a classic UFO or Uriah Heep track, so if either of you guys is reading this...
MPEG Stream: "Winter"
MPEG Stream: "Weissensee"

BALDWIN, MATT Paths Of Ignition ( American Dust) lp 14.98
This list highlight from a couple weeks back is NOW ON VINYL! And, we noticed, also now the Record Of The Month for July on Julian Cope's Head Heritage website, which we love. Read our review, then go read his... from which we learned something we should have realized, that the first track is a Neu! cover! So, here's what we said before about the cd version:
We love our modern Appalachia, tangled steel strings, gorgeous sprawling avant bluegrass, Fahey, Jack Rose, James Blackshaw, Ilyas Ahmed, it's a crowded field, but all the key players manage to create something much more special than just a Fahey rehash. Sure there are tons of folks out there with a guitar, a heavily worn copy of Death Chants, and not an original musical idea in their head, but there are the few, like the above folks mentioned, who took that sound, and were inspired to create their own soundworlds. You can add Matt Baldwin to that list.
It's a little hard to put a finger on what exactly makes Baldwin's sound so special, it could be more of a focus on classic melody, than on pick and strum, the opening track on Paths Of Ignition darkly unfurls into a warm whirring pastoral guitarscape, lots of major key melodies, unlikely harmonies, strange bits of slippery slide, and plenty of electric guitar buzz, some soaring growling leads, all woven into some haunting raga infused psychedelic space folk. The whole track is laced with tangles of wild almost-shredding guitar, deep resonant drones, swirling little melodic flourishes, it all transforms -his- take on Appalachia into something much more tripped out, psych rock and almost poppy in its prettiness.
The rest of the disc hews a little closer to the neo-Appalachia party line, but even then, his tracks slither and buzz, lots of haunting guitar rumble, intricate finger picking, delicate melodies, dreamy and drifty, mysterious and timeless. Except the one cover, the song that actually got us interested in Baldwin in the first place. It's only 4 minutes long, but it's a killer. Baldwin takes on Judas Priest's "Winter" and nails it. The main riff of the original sounds perfect on a steel string, brooding and ominous, beneath that guitar deep swells of buzzing guitardrone pulses and throbs, and the vocals, Baldwin does a pretty excellent Halford, a reverb drenched high pitched croon, complete with vibrato and little trills, the track finishes off with some killer lead guitar, sprawled over that gorgeous languorous main riff, that seems to slither and drift on forever.
Any one into the current crop of modern Appalachian / neo-folk / whatever-you-call-it guitar music will definitely dig this, and while it's worth it for the Priest cover alone, the whole record is pretty fantastic. Now it's up to Blackshaw to cover some old Scorpions, or Rose to take on a classic UFO or Uriah Heep track, so if either of you guys is reading this...
MPEG Stream: "Winter"
MPEG Stream: "Weissensee"

I SHALT BECOME Requiem (Moribund Records) cd 15.98
Newest disc from this long running depressive funereal black metal outfit. Originally formed in 1995, This Midwestern one man band has averaged about one record every four and a half years, although it seems that the band actually spent a good long stretch inactive, since the other two ISB records we reviewed were both recorded before the turn of the century, one under a different monicker. 
So, in fact, this is the first full length in almost a decade, and it sounds fantastic, even better than the other two discs, the sound beefed up and much more produced, but without losing any of the sound's miserable grimnity, a record of swirling murky buzzy slow motion doomscapes, distinctly USBM, very reminiscent of Xasthur actually, but ISB is even more blurred and indistinct, most songs having only one or two parts, locked into a mesmerizing looped crawl, the guitars buzzy, but blurred into soft waves of low end, churning and throbbing, everything bathed in a warm gauzy patina, a sea of shimmering keyboards, all very epic and majestic, but so layered and washed out, that it barely sounds metal at times. Instead sounding like some drone drenched super distorted Godspeed, huge crashing waves of sound, everything bleary eyed and smeared into shadows and shapes, even when the metal components drop out, leaving a simple keyboard line to repeat hypnotically or a minor key guitar melody to loop over and over, the sound is more akin to Philip Jeck or Tim Hecker than any sort of black metal, and when the guitars and drums and buzz do return, that doesn't really change. It's still some sort of hazy smoky impressionistic ambient black metal, washing over you like dreamy soft black waves of buzz and whir. Sometimes this feels like the sort of black metal band those guys would actually start. Imagine Tim Hecker, Philip Jeck, Christian Fennesz and William Basinski, all in corpsepaint, lurking in a wintry forest, hunched over their instruments on a dimly lit stage, unfurling these roiling waves of gauzy blackness and looped blur. So intense and hypnotic and beautiful. If you ever wanted to get someone into black metal, this could very well be the record to do it with. WAY recommended.
MPEG Stream: "An Atteridgeville Horror"
MPEG Stream: "Cleansed"
MPEG Stream: "Enigma"

16-17 Gyatso (Savage Land) cd 14.98
WARNING: You -should- play this loud. But still, be careful! Make sure any of your easily-aggravated housemates aren't asleep. Move breakable objects out of the way. Take your heart medication. All reasonable precautions before subjecting yourself to the might of 16-17's newly reissued Gyatso.
The music of Switzerland's 16-17 has been called industrial free jazz. And it's certainly got the swarming, squealing saxophones of the most freaked out free jazz we've heard. But with its industrial/metallic elements, the BRUTAL trance-inducing grind of martial drumming and guitar chuggery, maybe "free" jazz isn't the word. How 'bout "totalitarian jazz"? When we previously highlighted the two-cd Early Recordings collection of 16-17's '80s output, we described the band as the "Gods of ultra extreme hardcore free jazz post punk whatthefuck". Ok, that's about right.
Well, Gyatso, originally released in 1994 on Kevin Martin's long gone Pathological imprint (home to Martin's projects like Techno Animal, God, and Ice, as well as crucial discs by Oxbow, Peter & Caspar Brotzmann, Terminal Cheesecake, Zeni Geva, etc.) was even more insane than the stuff on Early Recordings, being to us the pinnacle of 16-17's recorded existence. The thing is, this album takes their earlier excesses into a whole new realm, finally getting their music the heavy duty production treatment it deserved. It's about the heaviest "jazz" ever! Basically, imagine Godflesh teamed up with Peter Brotzmann (Machine Gun era) and this is about what you'd get. The aggressive, constantly-escalating tension of machine-gunning opener "Attack-Impulse" pretty much wipes the floor with all other contenders, going beyond the likes of Zorn's Painkiller or fellow Swiss maniacs Alboth! It simply kills. Having done so, for the rest of the disc 16-17 make sure you stay good and dead with an expansive onslaught of repetitive, rigid rhythms and psychedelic skree-scapes, with brassy bass drone and high-end sax skronk swimming in an ominous electronic miasma. A couple extra-noisy remixes are included at the end to wrap things up in the most extreme manner possible. (These appeared on the original version too.)
The trio responsible for making this masterwork consisted of Alex Buess (screaming saxophones and bass clarinet), Markus Kneubuhler (guitar, electronics and tapes), and the relentless Knut Remond on drums. Also, this disc features a couple very special guests: on utterly sick, thuddering bass, there's Ben "G.C." Green of (indeed) Godflesh fame. And providing electronic samples, Pathological head honcho Kevin Martin.
This essential reissue has been digitally remastered by Weasel Walter (Flying Luttenbachers), and comes with a thick booklet of extensive new liner notes based on interviews with Buess and Martin, discussing the history of the band. We were fascinated to learn that Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine was such a big fan of 16-17 that back in 1995, he actually invited Alex Buess to work with him on the (still unrealized) follow up to Loveless! Who would have guessed? Apparently Alex spent a month in the studio with MBV, without much to show for it unfortunately... though we'd be still interested to hear what they were up to..
But, it surely couldn't be anything like this, there's nothing better as far as "ultra extreme hardcore free jazz industrial" or whatever is concerned!!
MPEG Stream: "Attack-Impulse"
MPEG Stream: "The Trawler"

FRICARA PACCHU Midnight Pyre (Lal Lal Lal) cd 16.98
Yes! The cd debut of this fantastic Finnish four-track project... We actually meant to list this, like, a month ago, but unfortunately the original review we wrote of it was lost in one of our several recent arggh-inducing komputoor crashes, but actually that's a good thing, 'cause it gave everybody here at AQ more time to listen to this, over and over, at home and in the store, and have us all decide that this HAD to be a Record Of The Week. So we ordered more copies from Finland, and re-wrote the review (which, in our memory, was actually probably better written the first time, so trust us on this) and here we go!
Ah, Finland. We've said it before, we'll say it again. So many of our favorite bands hail from Finland, from the hypnotic NWOFHM space rock of Circle to the the funereral doom of Skepticism, with all the freaky forest folk of Kemialliset Ystavat, et. al. in between. And now Fricara Pacchu, solo project from a member of such underground Finnish acts as Avarus, Anaksimandros, Maniacs Dream, and yes Kemialliset Ystavat.
Hopefully you remember our review of the Fricara Pacchu 7" and accompanying art/collage booklet that the Fonal label put out not too long ago (we may still have a few of those babies in stock, if you act fast). Both Allan and Andee accidentally wrote separate gushing reviews of it, that's how much we all liked it! That 7" left us eager to hear a full-length, and now here it is, courtesy of Lal Lal Lal. 12 wigged out instrumental tracks of Fricara Pacchu's undefinable, eccentric, psychedelic weirdness. We had compared the 7" to everything from the Boredoms to Oliva Tremor Control, and that goes too for the all-instrumental music on this cd, to which we can add such other disparate references as Neu! and When and Fuck Buttons. Fricara Pacchu's music is part techno, part noise, part pop... all awesome.
Recording at home on a four-track, Pacchu creates a woozy, rhythmic soundworld filled with distortion and delight. A world of magical gnomes with chugging machines spewing colorful clouds... clouds of mysterious, maybe illegal substances that coalesce in pretty patterns you can hear, as well as kaleidoscopically see. There's dense, druggy layers of guitar feedback with electro beats; lo-fi fuzzy loops, gurgly computer bleeps and sci-fi sound FX swooshes; throbbing pound and gentle ambience. Fricara Pacchu produces fragile music box melodies that exist amidst exploding minefields of noise, like the detonations of distortion that rhythmically obliterate parts of "Four Seasons Of Violins". Noise that is taken to an extreme with the utter, surging distorto-destruction of "Sky Helicopter"...
Whew! Wow. Maybe if the glorious synthscapes of fellow Finns Shogun Kunitoki were way grittier and guitar-ier, done more D.I.Y., and wrapped in steel wool and played backwards on a cheap cassette, that would sound something like the quirky and compelling music of Fricara Pacchu. By which we mean, this is great!
MPEG Stream: "Four Seasons Of Violins"
MPEG Stream: "Freaky Labyrinth"
MPEG Stream: "Return Of The Rats"
MPEG Stream: "Possessed By Possibilities"

BAKER, AIDAN / LEAH BUCKAREFF / NADJA Trinity (Die Stadt) cd 24.00
You read that right, this is indeed another new Nadja AND another new Aidan Baker, at the same time! Even after the world record FIVE Nadja's on a recent list. And while we joke about how prolific this guy is, even we're a bit overwhelmed by what is basically, counting reissues, maybe the 10th or 11th new release in a matter of a month or two. Sure we can whip out reviews like nobody's business, but even we're run a little ragged. But we'll do our best.
Obviously fans will need this, lots of us bought copies, after all, we've yet to hear a bad record from Baker or Nadja, and this one is no different. However it is special for two reasons, one, it's crazy limited, only 500 copies, hand numbered. When we run out of the ones we have it will be gone for good. And two, it features the first (as far as we know) solo jam from the non Aidan Baker half of Nadja, Leah Buckareff.
Three long tracks, released to coincide with a German live performance in April. The Baker solo track is a pretty glistening drift, a bit more dense and thick than past solo efforts, a surprisingly busy sonic swirl, ethereal effects, murky drones, fragments of melodies, bits of feedback and rumble and twinkle, all set in a warm whirring expanse of soft sound.
The Nadja track begins all dark and serene, but quickly builds to an incendiary blown out doom trudge, quite possibly the heaviest and most distorted we've heard the duo, the guitar thick and crumbling and so distorted it almost obscures any melody, the drum machine a chaotic splatter, the last few minutes so intense and heavy and freaked out, the squall of swirling black psych and drum machine sputter almost completely obscures the churning riffage below.
The big surprise here, although we suppose it shouldn't really be a surprise, is Buckareff's contribution. We're tempted to suggest that she start releasing her own records, but that's just what we need! More kick ass records to buy. Anyway, Buckareff's track, is all low end whir, whispery static, and barely there percussion, that builds to a caustic dirgedrone as heavy and intense as anything Nadja has released, but the cool thing is that even when the sound is a wall of heaving roiling black buzz, beneath it lurks that opening bass melody, the strange pit pat percussion, a mournful lope, slowly being swallowed by a massive swell of muted murky washed out heaviness, that quickly fades out, leaving that minimal bassy shuffle to fade out into silence.
Ok, fine, fuck it, bring it on, more Buckareff solo stuff! We can take it. Even if we can't afford more musical obsessions. But after this we need to hear more. Once again, three for three. Nadja, Baker, Buckareff, essential listening for the doomdronedirge inclined.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES, hand numbered, in a cool matte paper fold over sleeve.
MPEG Stream: LEAH BUCKAREFF "Socorro"
MPEG Stream: NADJA "Jornada Del Muerto"

PORTISHEAD Third (Mercury) cd 15.98
It seems a bit strange to spend very much time writing about the new Portishead. Since by now, odds are you're probably sick to death of hearing about it. Sure we all loved Portishead back in the day, they were one of those rare 'electronic' bands whose appeal knew no boundaries, metalheads, moms, indie kids, the sound of Portishead was dark and sexy and mysterious, sinister and ominous, dark and rife with crackle and buzz. Perfect drugged out late night bliss out music, their strange way of creating sound and composing music, recording their own samples on to vinyl and then spinning and scratching those samples to create new textures, made for a totally unique sound.
So what does a band do after taking almost a decade off? Do they return with a record that sounds just like the last one, which is probably what most folks want, or do they return radically altered? With a sound bold and brash, reinventing the sound they themselves invented in the first place.
On first listen, Third definitely sounds like the latter, but with repeated listening, the record slowly and subtly begins to slip toward the former. Which most definitely speaks to the magic of Portishead, and the new record, which at once embraces the old sound, while turning it into something new. More than past outings, Third is dirty, out of tune, atonal, noisy, chaotic, urgent, sure past records had all that crackle and buzz and fuzz, but those elements were carefully placed, and kept well within line. Third sounds much more, well, loose for lack of a better word, like actual musicians, feeling each other out, maybe even improvising. Less like a studio concoction and more like a real live band. And the sound suits them. And makes for a record at once warm and familiar, but also alien, sort of 'rocking' and rife with WTF? moments.
Take the opener, "Silence", which begins with some sort of radio broadcast, which gives way to a killer loping breakbeat, immediately the fastest tempo Portishead have ever explored, strings swoop in, the sound raw and urgent, almost like the chase scene from some spy movie, gorgeous distorted chiming guitar harmonics ring out, until finally the track slows down, and slithers sexily, the vocals a sexy sultry croon, but it's not long before the track kicks back into the haunting and tense, string laden cinematic jam that opened the track.
Then there's "Hunter", which begins like classic Portishead, all smokey and late night sounding, soft muted reverbed guitars, a lush gauzy production, the vocals ethereal and ghostly, but even here, a few seconds in, the song is interrupted by a super distorted crumbling guitar chord that halts things in their tracks, before fading out, and allowing the song to resume. The a few minutes later, a strange noodly synth freakoutsurfaces, again derailing the song's slow motion groove, but It just sounds perfect. It doesn't at all sound like random weirdness for random weirdness' sake. The first time is jarring, the second time, you find yourself waiting for those parts, even humming along as if they were as crucial to the song as the main melody or the vocals, and the thing is, they are.
Near the end lurks the single, "Machine Gun", with its very machine gun like rhythm, herky jerky, stuttery and not at all fluid, reminiscent of Art Of Noise, the vocals sweetly soaring over this jagged rhythmscape below, which only really varies part way through when the original machine gun drums are replaced by BIGGER, more distorted drums, and wrapped in strange moaning horns (or maybe synths), only to shift once again moments later becoming more electronic, the beats awash in strange FX and metallic buzz. It's so unlikely, that it makes perfect sense as the first single. If you can embrace that strange rhythm, that relentless and very un-Portishead like sound, then the rest of the record will make perfect sense, unfolding in front of you, revealing both the warm familiar sounds missed, and the new, bizarre sonic elements never even imagined
All over the record, the band confounds and confuses, gloriously, the brooding whispery "Small" shifts gears partway through and transforms into a fuzzy organ drenched krautjam, "Deep Water" is a straight up old timey folk song, the vocals and strings soaked in fuzzy ambience (and reminding us a bit of vocalist Gibbons' post Portishead project Rustin Man), "We Carry On" is a sort of atonal Stereolab style jam, relentless percussion, thick swaths of synth, very repetitive and hypnotic, "The Rip" is part whispery folky flutter, part synthy electro buzz, every track here offers some sort of surprise, whether it's the song itself, or some little sonic strangeness lurking within, but never is the song or the sound sacrificed, each track is perfect in its own beautifully twisted way, catchy but never obviously so, groovy, but often convoluted and fractured, it's a difficult record to explain for sure, which is perhaps why so much ink has been spilled, and while we may be sick of reading about it, we sure are finding it nearly impossible to imagine ever getting sick of listening to it, which is precisely why it's one of our Records Of The Week.
MPEG Stream: "Silence"
MPEG Stream: "Hunter"
MPEG Stream: "Machine Gun"

ISENGRIND / TWINSISTERMOON / NATURAL SNOW BUILDINGS The Snowbringer Cult (Students Of Decay) 2cd 21.00
As we commented in our review of the now out of print Laurie Bird cd-r from French bedroom drone-psych-folk duo Natural Snow Buildings, it always surprises us how bands with nothing but a MySpace page and a cd-r or two, can generate so much hype and excitement. It seems to be a common occurrence these days, with some bands even getting real live major label record deals purely on the strength of the handful of tracks on their MySpace page.
To be fair to Natural Snow Buildings, they have been a band since 1999, toiling quietly WAY underground, and over the course of the last 9 years, have only released 4 cd-r's and two tapes, the total number of copies of all 6 releases hovering at about 250. That's insane! How does a band with such a small catalog, that has reached so few ears, possibly generate so much fanboy freakout?! But that's precisely what happened. But thankfully, and perhaps surprisingly, in this case, the hype does not seem unwarranted. The freaking out more than merited. The music of Natural Snow Buildings is definitely something special, much more than the usual generic fx laden droned out abstract cd-r floor-core that seems to be flooding the scene, this boy girl duo write songs, and create gorgeous soundscapes, they mix raga-like psyche with fluttery folk, deep drones with pristine pop, weaving it all together into something spectacular.
So here we have the very first proper cd release (others on the way, reissues of several of their various way-too limited cd-r's) from Natural Snow Buildings, bundled with an extra disc, featuring a whole record from both NSB members' solo projects, Twinsistermoon, whose last disc we reviewed recently, and Isengrind, the project of Solange, the female half of NSB.
Isengrind's half of disc one begins with some deep dark ambience, huge shimmering streaks of ominous sound, like an orchestra tuning up in a cave, drawn out into warm washes of dronelike sound, processed choral vocals, and wheezing accordions. That intro gives way to a buzzing Eastern style raga, lots of percussion, shakers, bells, hand drums, buried beneath a shimmery smear of thick coruscating buzz, a sea of sitars, with Solange's vocals soaring ghostlike over the top. The next track is a dark folky drift, a simple melody, fluttering flute, more abstract percussion, definitely reminiscent of Avarus and other Finnish forest folk, but somehow more ethereal, and genuinely folky. The rest of the Isengrind tracks drift from spectre like folk, simple strums soaked in reverb and wrapped around ethereal vocals, to more raga jams, Indian style buzz filtered through a fractured folk sensibility, to haunting cinematic ambience, abstract soundscapes rife with streaks of feedback and wheezing chordal whir, disembodied strum, mysterious vocals and sporadic percussion, tribal, primal, primitive and raw, but still dreamlike and lovely.
Mehdi begins his side of the disc, with a sound that perfectly compliments Solange's (and make it obvious why the two work so well together in NSB), long drawn out glimmering high end tones, draped over a dark minor key folky strum, and simple percussion, while Mehdi's feminine sounding falsetto soars over the top, all infused with some sort of freaky folky Wickerman vibe. Gorgeous and haunting. That track is followed up by a short chunk of perfect dreamfolk, simple folky strum, and Mehdi's crystal clear vocals, ringing out, pure and impossibly high, if you didn't know better you might think this was some rare track by some lost seventies female folkie.
And so it goes, tracks weaving back and forth, from warm washed out blissy dreamy dronescapes, to simple stripped down folk, often the two sounds drifting into each other, cross pollinating, the folk songs short and seemingly serving to separate the longer sprawling expanses of drone and shimmer, the two sounds dramatically different, but somehow complimenting one another perfectly.
So what happens when the two join forces, becoming Natural Snow Buildings? It would be way too easy to say that the sum equaled the parts, that if you took the sound of the two halves of the first disc, it would equal the whole of the second. There is certainly ­some- truth to that, but it's not math, it's magic. Alchemy, musical sorcery, these are sounds not numbers, and thus are governed by forces far more magical and mysterious than physics or science. The two together join spirits, their natures become entwined, they draw from one another, each offering the other part of their soul, rendered in music. The results are truly divine. An assemblage of sounds, deftly woven into expansive shapes and hushed mystery, landscapes of drone and shimmer, of cinematic wonder and dark introspection. Some tracks are super abstract, layered near static drifts, longform movements that sonically evoke other lands, other times, the past long forgotten, the future not yet experienced, other tracks are wheezing sun dappled Appalachia, but turned inside out, the chords and notes seemingly drawn inward, toward the speakers, the vocals breathless and mournful, all laid atop a thick swirl of distorted riffage, other tracks are fragmented folk, all murky blurred piano, backwards guitars, heartsick melodies, wrapped in a thick gauzy production, smeared into snapshots glimpsed through eyes brimming with tears. Other tracks are space rock writ small, minimal dirges, drone jams, chanted vocals, strange stuttery percussion, and glorious buzzing guitars, culminating in the final track, which begins much like the others, all hazy and dreamlike, vocals ethereal, guitars spare and skeletal, until unexpectedly the band lock into some serious droned out space rock. A serious dark and druggy looped riff, a la Spacemen 3, Hawkwind, Loop, anchored by a simple pounding thudrock rhythm, driving intensely through swirling clouds of FX and warm whirring ambience, a seriously dense, propulsive krautjam, that just so happens to hide a soft drifting pop shimmer underneath, and while the track rocks with a surprising intensity, it's precisely what's underneath that turns the jam into something resplendent.
Gorgeous packaging, a fancy 4 panel gatefold digisleeve, with super striking original artwork and liner notes all drawn by Solange.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES!!!
MPEG Stream: NATURAL SNOW BUILDINGS "Resurrect Dead On Planet Six"
MPEG Stream: NATURAL SNOW BUILDINGS "Bear Hunting"
MPEG Stream: TWINSISTERMOON "Amantsokan"
MPEG Stream: ISENGRIND "To Ride With Holle"

TAIGA REMAINS Ribbons Of Dust (Root Strata) cd 12.98
Finally the way too limited Ribbons Of Dust cd-r's get a proper cd reissue. Three volumes, each a 3" cd-r, from one of our favorite abstract drone outfits going. We raved about all three installments, so if you missed out on any or all, or just want to upgrade to actual cd, then now's your chance.
Seems like the impetus for starting a cd-r label must be born from a similar need to create music yourself. Considering how many microlabel bosses are also serious sound makers in their own right (Campbell Kneale and Celebrate Psi Phenomenon, Antony Milton and PseudoArcana, Brad Rose and Digitalis, etc.) Makes sense, a passion for discovering new music can be fed directly by making that new music yourself. Taiga Remains is the solo electric guitar project of Alex Cobb, who also happens to run Students Of Decay, a pretty badass cd-r label. Volume 1 of Ribbons Of Dust is a slow moving, bleary eyed, slow moving morning of a track. The guitar is rendered riffless, instead it's transformed into a sparkling glistening glimpse of a sun dappled expanse of still water, foggy and fuzzy, a dream world of shimmering muted high end drift and warm soft hum. Reminds us a bit of ex-Souled American axeman Scott Tuma, and his abstract slow motion soundscapes. So totally lovely and blissfully otherworldly.
Volume 2 is made up of huge billowy clouds of dense but soft electric guitar drift. Melodies played out over minutes instead of seconds. Ambarchi meets Fennesz but with the bones removed, leaving just a drifting ghost of the guitar. It's hard to even think of this as a guitar. There's no strumming, or picking, or bowing, instead it's nothing but shimmering and glistening and sparkling and reverberating and drifting and shining and floating and twinkling and slowly fading away...
The final volume is all about late night, disembodied slow shifting guitar glimmer. Huge soft clouds of warm chords, thick swells of reverberating steel strings, minor key drifts of shimmer and whir, very oceanic, like drifting on some soft sleep sea, each note another gentle swell, lulling you into a state of complete bliss out. So beautiful.
Packaged in a super striking silkscreened origmai style fold over cardstock sleeve with a printed insert.
MPEG Stream: "Ribbons Of Dust"
MPEG Stream: "1"
MPEG Stream: "2"
MPEG Stream: "Excerpt 1"
MPEG Stream: "Excerpt 2"

TAMAGAWA L'Arbre Aux Fees (Basses Frequences) 3x3"cd-r 14.98
Not sure how we discovered the Basses Frequences, and yes that is correct. Basses Frequences. Maybe an email, a recommendation, a chance discovery on the web. It hardly matters, what is important is that we DID discover them, and with the first handful of releases, we're already convinced they might be one of our new favorite cd-r labels.
Not only is the music amazing, but the packaging is totally elaborate and handmade, and quite original, some of the releases in metal tins, this one, the first release from a person / group called Tamagawa, comes in an oversized envelope, with an assortment of small cards and a huge folded cardstock replica of a mini stage lamp, which you can cut out and assemble and store these three mini 3" cd-r's in. Wow.
But cool packaging is never enough, the music on these here discs is divine. And quite varied, from warm washed out ambient dreaminess, to buzzing crumbling drones, to squiggly spaciness, to gorgeous glistening sun baked post rock, to reverb drenched guitar drift, to thick super distorted dirgedrone, and each of those allowed to shift and shimmer, change shape, and alter sound, transform from one into the other, and then back again, the drone is definitely the root of the music here, but even that is sometimes relegated to whirring way off in the distance, while harmonics sparkle and rhythms shuffle, but just as often, the drone wipes the slate clean, and all the OTHER elements drift and whirl in the background while the drone rumbles and buzzes.
The recordings are gorgeous, the sound crystalline, even at its heaviest and most distorted, the music still glows warmly, the edges soft and rounded, the vibe gentle and tranquil, meditative and hypnotic.
Way recommended for fans of drone and drift, of post rock and abstract ambience, and folks who are obsessive about releases from PseudoArcana, Digitalis, Students of Decay and other like minded labels, might just have to add Basses Frequences to that list.
LIMITED TO 200 COPIES! Packaged in an oversized sealed envelope with printed cards and a replica cut-out-and-assemble stage lamp!
MPEG Stream: "One"
MPEG Stream: "Two"

V/A Sacrifice At The Altar Of The Satanic Blood Angel: A Tribute To Von (Rusty Axe) cd 9.98
There are cult bands and then they are the TRUE KVLT bands. Few fit that bill better than San Francisco's Von. Von existed for a few years back in the late eighties / early nineties, recorded only two demos, and then split up and disappeared.
But that's just the sort of stuff that creates the cult, that turns a band into something more, that and an incredible collection of furious grim thrashing black metal madness. Fourteen songs, all fast and black, all quite similar sounding, almost like one long song chopped up into 2 minute movements, but like very few bands, there's just something special about Von, sure the sound, the production, the energy, but it has to be the songs too, since even played by other bands, those songs exude a strange black power, a grim malice and hellish energy that belies their simple composition.
Lots of folks have covered Von over the years, most recently SF's own Leviathan, on his split with fellow Bay Area black horde Crebain, but here we've got a whole disc of covers, most of them true to the spirit of Von, in that they are raw and primitive and buzzing, but each special in its own black way.
Very few bands here that we've actually heard of: Enbilulugugal, Black Vomit, Godless, Execrator, Beastcraft, Tjolgtjar, Raw Hatred and that's about it. Check out the names on some of the other bands: Blasphemophager, Unholy Crucifix, Godslaying Hellblast, Sermon Of Foulness, Nuclearhammer, Ceremonial CastingsŠ
And they all sound just how you might think, carrying on in the grim tradition of Von, lo-fi, thrashing, black, brutal, buzzy, the rhythms fast and relentless, the riffing and drumming in a constant fury, the vocals in various shades of howl and gurgle, lots of the tracks peppered with wild squiggly leads, sometimes the sound is thick and caustic, a white noise blur, other times it's a tinny practice space recording, once in a while, like with Black Vomit, the song is transformed into something freaked out and damaged, but for the most part, this is one for the true, the grim, those of black heart and cursed soul.
Definitely for fans of Von (obviously), Beherit, Bone Awl, Akitsa, Ash Pool, Darkthrone and other practitioners of raw raw raw primitive black metal.
MPEG Stream: BLACK VOMIT "Devil Pig"
MPEG Stream: ENBILULUGUGAL "Lamb"
MPEG Stream: BEASTCRAFT "Satanic Blood"
MPEG Stream: TJOLGTJAR "Christ Fire"
MPEG Stream: GODSLAYING HELLBLAST "Veinen"

PYRAMIDS s/t (Hydra Head) 2cd 14.98
As much as we love that Hydra Head sound, huge churning riffage, pummeling drums, crushing metallic dirges and all things heavy heavy heavy, we're becoming more and more obsessed with the releases that don't fit so comfortably on HH, don't necessarily embody that classic Hydra Head sound. Although that's not necessarily fair, as the more bands HH sign that sound different, the more diffuse and varied that HH 'sound' becomes, which renders this whole theory moot. But whatever, stick with us for a second, there is a point. It's sort of how we were with Sub Pop, sure we loved Green River and Soundgarden and Mudhoney, THAT sound, but we got crazy obsessed with stuff like Rein Sanction and Hardship Post, the stuff that stuck out, that sounded WEIRD, maybe almost more than the regular Sub Pop stuff.
It might be just that for a band to kick someone's ass SO much, that they're willing to release a record by them, even though sonically it's a whole different ball of wax, means that the record in question is that good, that fucked up, that unique, or could be that we just like to be contrary. Either wayŠ
Whatever. We love Isis and Cavity and Pelican, but lately, we, like a lot of you, have been obsessing over Jesu, Hayaino Diasuke, Austerity Program, Torche, Pet Genius and now Pyramids, who hail from Denton Texas, and who sound like nothing on Hydra Head. If we had to pick one band, it might be Jesu, but even then, the similarities are minimal. Pyramids are blissy and fuzzy and gauzy and pretty, almost ambient at times, drifting dreamily, their sounds shimmering and glistening, everything blurred and washed out and totally fucking gorgeous, BUT, they do have some surprises up their sleeves. And it's those surprises that make this record such a mind blower.
But let's start at the beginning. The first three tracks here are totally lovely, guitars are wisps, vocals are fluttery shadows, melodies are delicate and fragile, the production is warm and sun dappled, rhythms are muted shuffles, effects swirl and sway, here and there, the sound thickens into something almost heavy, but never quite gets there, remains on the pretty drifty side of heavy. It's like a more avant freaky version of Mazzy Star or Galaxie 500, that same sort of windblown washed out blissy vibe. Until the fourth track.
Beginning with some minimal guitar buzz, amidst a whirl of chiming harmonics, shortwave interference, and blown out buzz, the drums kick in, and the riff locks into an insectoid buzz, and suddenly the Pyramids are some sort of black metal band, still bleary and blissy, but with pounding drums and buzzing guitars, eventually vocals come in and it's like a metalgaze Sigur Ros, which is most definitely awesome.
The next track too offers more of the same, a sort of swirling chaotic shoe gaze-y black metal, and in fact the rest of the record continues on in that vein, each track a twisted convoluted take on blissed out black metal, sometimes grinding and furious, but even then swathed in a warm sonic glow, sometimes more poppy and swirly, like a more abstract Swervedriver. As you can tell, it's pretty hard to describe. Not sure it's really black enough to appeal to black metallers, it's more like some shoegaze ambient metal pop band just borrowed some black metal tropes and wove them into their gorgeous blown out soundworld.
There's a second disc too, of remixes, by the likes of Jesu, James Plotkin, Loveliescrushing, Birchville Cat Motel, Blut Aus Nord and more, and we would have assumed that remixes by those folks, of this sort of music, would just render them more blissed out, but instead, at least the first two, transform the songs into furious blown out black jams. The first, remixed by Toby Driver of Kay Dot, Ted Parsons of Prong and Swans and Colin Marston of Behold the Arctopus, begins all soft and swirly, but by the end has added super distorted drums, and all manner of fried buzz. The Plotkin remix up next, strips away most of the bliss, and leaves a seriously fucked sounding lo-fi in-the-red black metal blast. The Jesu remix sounds just like you might imagine, a gauzy slowcore drift, with the vocals jacked way up, soaring through the ether, a fluttery falsetto. The two Loveliescrushing mixes bring out the soft blurred ambience of the originals, making them even more tranquil and serene. Birchville turns his mix into a virtual BCM track, using bits and pieces of the original, creating a thick slow growing drone, that builds to a buzzing crescendo before fading back into a dark moody drift. Blut Aus Nord is the most fucked up remix. Not sure if they added tons of stuff, or just did some crazy mix, but the guitars groan all dizzy and woozy and angular, the drums, pounding and machinelike, the vocals a hissy evil howl, the whole track a lurching black lope. All the mixes here are amazing, utterly transforming the originals, but in doing so hewing to the spirit of the original record, which was already pretty schizophrenic and all over the amp as it was.
Way way way recommended. A new aQ favorite for sure...
MPEG Stream: "Sleds"
MPEG Stream: "The Echo Of Something Lovely"
MPEG Stream: "End Resolve"

BARN OWL From Our Mouths A Perpetual Light (Not Not Fun) lp 16.98
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
Repressed and back in stock, but probably not for long!
Not only have Barn Owl become one of our favorite musical projects right here in SF, but they are now serious contenders to the throne of best purveyors of deep hitting and soul satisfying drone anywhere in the world. While just about everything they've released up to this point has been way too limited and thus are now all sadly out of print, they finally have a release that while still limited will at least get to reach a lot more ears then anything they've put out so far. These are sounds that deserve to be heard by anyone with an appreciation for all things droney, stoney and drifty, done so totally right.
While drone-folk bands have become a somewhat common entity in the last couple years, it's actually rare when you hear one that you really feel true soul and spirited passion from. From Our Mouths A Perpetual Light finds Barn Owl striking a perfect balance between sparkling sonics and commanding doom. Imagine Sleep/OM running in the mud with sticks and stones and then meeting up with Windy & Carl, Bardo Pond and Tom Carter. The lp format suits the duo so well, as their songs are filled with deep and slowly swirling grooves. We just listened to one side over and over and over before we even moved on to the second side with which we then did the same. There is both patience and payoff in Barn Owl's sound. Music that makes you want to close your eyes because you know you are entranced by artists that know so well what they are doing. While they pressed up way more lps than anything else they've released (and this is the second pressing!), it's all relative, meaning these LP's are still limited and are most likely not going to be around too long
Highly recommended, but act fast!

FEAR FALLS BURNING Frenzy Of The Absolute (Conspiracy) cd 14.98
Drums are maybe the last thing you might expect to hear on a Fear Falls Burning record, which makes the opening of the new FFB, Frenzy Of The Absolute, all the more fascinating, since it opens with JUST drums, a huge crash, a doomy drum plod all spread out, spacious and spare. But eventually guitars enter the mix, and slowly take over.
Fear Falls Burning is the one man guitardrone project of axeman Dirk Serries, and over the last year has released numerous cds and lps, each filled with his unique take on the otherwise played out doomdronedirge sound. Fear Falls Burning is a much more musical take, no less thick or corrosive or caustic or heavy, but Serries makes his walls of downtuned drone, and whirring buzz, glisten and shimmer, shot through with melody and unlikely texture, about as poppy as a music this un-poppy can get. And it's no different here. Well minus the HUGE difference of having a drummer. Or should we say drummerS! Serries is joined by a series of guests on Frenzy, most notable the drummers from Swedish post-metallers Switchblade and Cult Of Luna.
At first we were worried that adding drums would just turn FFB's ethereal doomic drift into something much more generic and run of the mill, but just the opposite is true. Serries and his guests subtly transform the sound of FFB into something wholly different, the opening track says it all. That sprawling simple, spread out drumming, continues on throughout the first three quarters of the track, pounding away, not pummeling, but pounding, almost delicately if that were even possible, while Serries introduces soft shimmery delicate melodies, that drift dreamily in the background, the whole thing underpinned by a thick, gradually building Niblock like static guitar drone. But that little lullaby like melody, keeps the track from becoming pure dirge. There's way too much space. It's almost like a seriously metallicized and doomed up slowcore band. This is Low covering SUNNO))), a dreamy droney soporific downtuned dreamlike creep.
The guitars thicken, the ambience grows ever more woozy and buzzy, the various swells of distorted buzz, wash in and out, various melodies surface and then drift off, the song slowly transforming into something much blackened and sinister. Until with about 5 minutes left, the track switches gears and becomes a roiling blur of washed out industrial buzz, muted picked apart riffage, processed percussion, the drums slowly surfacing from below, creeping into earshot, like some black beast clawing its way up from the abyss, creating a dirgey sort of Godflesh / Jesu jam, but way more muddy and murky blown out, blurred and soft focused, and somehow still weirdly pretty.
The second track is way more in line with past FFB recordings, huge heaving slabs of buzzing low end, a vast expanse of fluttering, reverberating guitar growl, slow motion swells of whir, peppered with clouds of cymbal shimmer, shooting star streaks of high end, all blearily blurred into one fluid, constantly shifting dronescape. This track too grows in intensity, becoming more cacophonous, more ominous and atonal, a deep black hole of swirling black melody and thick textured guitarscapery. Like a dreamier, blissier Wolf Eyes.
The final track begins like some super charged Spacemen 3 jam, a crumbling distorted space rock riff, doused in delay, the last note allowed to pulse and skitter off into the ether, before the riff re-engages. Over the top, in swoop more layers of guitar buzz, synth sounding whir and warble, all very trancelike and mesmerizing, the drums don't even kick in until near the end, and even then, they just offer up a huge pulse like pound, a skeletal framework for the swirling buzzing blissy blackness above, the drums finally exploding into an actual rhythm with about 2 minutes to go, the guitars soaring into a serious frenzy, suddenly it sounds like the climax of an Explosions In The Sky song AND the finale of a Godspeed song all woven together into one explosive blown out finish.
As much as we love pretty much everything Fear Falls Burning, this record has us hoping this drum thing is not just a one off, but even if it is, we'll dig it while we can.
MPEG Stream: "Frenzy Of The Absolute"
MPEG Stream: "He Contemplates The Sign"

FEAR FALLS BURNING Frenzy Of The Absolute (Conspiracy) 2lp 36.00
Finally in on vinyl, and with one extra track, and one hidden track. That's two more than on the cd, described below:
Drums are maybe the last thing you might expect to hear on a Fear Falls Burning record, which makes the opening of the new FFB, Frenzy Of The Absolute all the more fascinating, since it opens with JUST drums, a huge crash, a doomy drum plod all spread out, spacious and spare. But eventually guitars enter the mix, and slowly take over.
Fear Falls Burning is the one man guitardrone project of axeman Dirk Serries, and over the last year has releases numerous cds and lps, each filled with his unique take on the otherwise played out doomdronedirge sound. Fear Falls Burning is a much more musical take, no less thick or corrosive or caustic or heavy, but Serries makes his walls of downtuned drone, and whirring buzz, glisten and shimmer, shot through with melody and unlikely texture, about as poppy as a music this un-poppy can get. And it's no different here. Well minus the HUGE difference of having a drummer. Or should we say drummerS! Serries is joined by a series of guests on Frenzy, most notable the drummers from Switchblade and Cult Of Luna.
At first we were worried that adding drums would just turn FFB's ethereal doomic drift into something much more generic and run of the mill, but just the opposite is true. Serries and his guests subtly transform the sound of FFB into something wholly different, the opening track says it all. That sprawling simple, spread out drumming, continues on throughout the first three quarters of the track, pounding away, not pummeling, but pounding, almost delicately if that were even possible, while Serries introduces soft shimmery delicate melodies, that drift dreamily in the background, the whole thing underpinned by a thick, gradually building Niblock like static guitar drone. But that little lullaby like melody, keeps the track from becoming pure dirge. There's way too much space. It's almost like a seriously metalicized and doomed up slowcore band. This is Low covering Sunn 0))), a dreamy droney soporific downtuned dreamlike creep.
The guitars thicken, the ambience grows ever more woozy and buzzy, the various swells of distorted buzz, wash in and out, various melodies surface and then drift off, the song slowly transforming into something much blackened and sinister. Until with about 5 minutes left, the track switches gears and becomes a roiling blur of washed out industrial buzz, muted picked apart riffage, processed percussion, the drums slowly surfacing from below, creeping into earshot, like some black beast clawing its way up from the abyss, creating a dirgey sort of Godflesh / Jesu jam, but way more muddy and murky blown out, blurred and soft focused, and somehow still weirdly pretty.
The second track is way more in line with past FFB recordings, huge heaving slabs of buzzing low end, a vast expanse of fluttering, reverberating guitar growl, slow motion swells of whir, peppered with clouds of cymbal shimmer, shooting star streaks of high end, all blearily blurred into one fluid, constantly shifting dronescape. This track too grows in intensity, becoming more cacophonous, more ominous and atonal, a deep black hole of swirling black melody and thick textured guitarscapery. Like a dreamier blissier Wolf Eyes.
The final track begins like some super charged Spacemen 3 jam, a crumbling distorted space rock riff, doused in delay, the last note allowed to pulse and skitter off into the ether, before the riff re-engages. Over the top, in swoop more layers of guitar buzz, synth sounding whir and warble, all very trancelike and mesmerizing, the drums don't even kick in until near the end, and even then, they just offer up a huge pulse like pound, a skeletal framework for the swirling buzzing blissy blackness above, the drums finally exploding into an actual rhythm with about 2 minutes to go, the guitars soaring into a serious frenzy, suddenly it sounds like the climax of an Explosions In The Sky song AND the finale of a Godspeed song all woven together into one explosive blown out finish.
As much as we love pretty much everything Fear Falls Burning, this record has us hoping this drum thing is not just a one off, but even if it is, we'll dig it while we can.
Pressed on 180 gram vinyl and again, includes an extra track AND a hidden bonus track!
MPEG Stream: "Frenzy Of The Absolute"
MPEG Stream: "He Contemplates The Sign"

OTESANEK / LOSS / ORTHODOX / MOURNFUL CONGREGATION Four Burials (Battle Kommand) cd 13.98
The good news, is that this disc will be absolute heaven (or hell if you prefer) for the doom obsessed, for those who NEED utter and extreme heaviness, who thrive on massive walls of sludge, of creeping crumbling downtuned riffage, of skull splitting rib cage rattling drum pound. And the fact that this disc contains exclusive tracks from four of THEE heaviest and THEE doomiest bands around. The bad news though, is that somehow, this disc is already sold out at the label, so this could very well be the last we see of Four Burials. We did get a bunch of these, but since so many of the aQ faithful are of the doomier persuasion, odds are these will disappear in no time.
So most doomlords will see the above names and that's all it'll take, four exclusive tracks, LONG ones, from Loss, Orthodox, Mournful Congregation and Otesanek. For avid readers of the aQ list, you too are probably familiar with 2 or 3 of those. But just in case, we'll give a quick rundown of the bands / tracks that make up the Four Burials here...
Otesanek is up first. Last heard from splitting a disc with Japan's Coffins. They are definitely doomy, obviously, but might also be the heaviest of the bunch, a sort of Eyehategod meets Moss thing going on, and one of the few bands this slooooooow, to also fuck things up big time. Super strange arrangements, ultra dynamic, lots of weird starts and stops, angular riffs, crazy vocals (both male and female, both super intense and harsh). Definitely for fans of Khanate and Bunkur and all that sort of ultradoomdirge, but weirder and more fucked up. Definitely dying to hear more from these guys.
Next up is Loss, whose approach to doom is much more classic and melodic, beginning with some unnerving samples, woven into a spare doomy plod, the band slip into some seriously melodic post rock, all clean guitar and sparse drumming, eventually morphing into a sound majestic and massive, a bit like old My Dying Bride, impossibly loooow vocals, super mournful melodies, very dramatic and miserable. The song weaves back and forth between that classic doom-ic crush and the melancholy loping post rock, eventually somehow fusing the two.
Then comes longtime faves Orthodox, from Spain, whose sound, especially here, is way more spacious and spare, very minimal. with long stretches that are practically inaudible over the daily din of the store (this is headphone doom for sure!). Chanting, monk-like and somber, clean guitars drifting and shimmering, simple stripped down drumming, some wailing dramatic vocals, the sound an abstract mysterious slowcore that seems to get more and more strangely psychedelic, without ever getting overtly heavy. Really strange, but fans of Orthodox will already be well used to their, umm... un-Orthodox approach to all things doom.
Last up, legendary purveyors of true doom, Australia's Mournful Congregation, whose sound is sad and sorrowful, melancholy and miserable, a gorgeously epic lugubrious crawl, super melodic, but totally washed out and painted in sweeping shades of black and grey. Think Skepticism, Thergothon, Esoteric, Asunder, the sort of dark, slow motion, soul stirring creep we could listen to forever.
MPEG Stream: OTESANEK "Seven Are They"
MPEG Stream: LOSS "(To Pass Away) Death March Towards My Ruin"

REPLACEMENTS, THE Hootenanny (Rhino) cd 17.98
What to say about the Replacements? Their history has been pretty well documented. By the end, they were everywhere, MTV, magazines, with a sound that had almost nothing in common with the records that made them the legends they so rightfully are. One guy died, one has gone on to a middling solo career, one is even in the current incarnation of Guns N' Roses. None of that means anything though when faced with the pure pop genius of their first 5 records, 4 of which just got reissued with tons of bonus tracks. We always just assumed that everyone loved the Replacements, cherished their beat up copy of Let It Be (Replacements not the Beatles), put "Answering Machine" on every mix tape, and the thought of writing about a band like that is pretty daunting. Definitely one of those instances where it seems like shouting "these guys rule!!!! Buy this now!!!" should suffice. And there's the fact that there are tons of kids listening to bands who ripped off bands who ripped off the Replacements and might not even know it.
Replacements fans are a pretty obsessive bunch, so we won't even bother talking in any depth about the bonus tracks, needless to say, beyond the usual alternate takes, there are some serious gems and a couple Holy Grail type tracks. But for folks new to the band, fuck the bonus tracks, the record themselves are practically perfect. Or at least perfectly imperfect. Anyone who ever saw the Replacements knows you had a fifty / fifty chance of seeing either the best show of your life, or the most insanely shitty show ever, and the records while not quite that haphazard, are just haphazard enough to keep that sort of excitement going. None of the tracks are perfect, the band is always loose, really loose, and the songs are always on the verge of total collapse, but the songs are catchy, and the lyrics are awesome, sometimes snotty and funny, other times poignant and bittersweet. In an age of genres, it's weird to listen to a band that is essentially their own genre. Beyond being just a rock band or a pop band, they are the Replacements and nearly 30 years on they still RULE.
Hootenany is sort of the oddball of the Replacements' first few discs, and begins with the various band members swapping instruments for a falling apart blues jam, that does eventually do just that. The rest of the disc is split between frantic punk rockers, tripped out ballads, garage-y blues jams, and the usual pop flecked punk rock that defined their sound on Sorry, Ma. Standouts include the surfy "Buck Hill", the weird "Lovelines" with the lyrics being read from the personal ads of a Minneapolis paper, and the dreamy Westerberg solo jam "Within Your Reach", with it's effected guitar, primitive programmed drums, and plaintive vocals. Definitely not THE record to grab if you were looking for just one Replacements disc, but once you've immersed yourself in the rest of their records, you'll undoubtedly find this one essential too.
MPEG Stream: "Run It"
MPEG Stream: "Color Me Impressed"

REPLACEMENTS, THE Let it Be (Rhino) cd 17.98
What to say about the Replacements? Their history has been pretty well documented. By the end, they were everywhere, MTV, magazines, with a sound that had almost nothing in common with the records that made them the legends they so rightfully are. One guy died, one has gone on to a middling solo career, one is even in the current incarnation of Guns N' Roses. None of that means anything though when faced with the pure pop genius of their first 5 records, 4 of which just got reissued with tons of bonus tracks. We always just assumed that everyone loved the Replacements, cherished their beat up copy of Let It Be (Replacements not the Beatles), put "Answering Machine" on every mix tape, and the thought of writing about a band like that is pretty daunting. Definitely one of those instances where it seems like shouting "these guys rule!!!! Buy this now!!!" should suffice. And there's the fact that there are tons of kids listening to bands who ripped off bands who ripped off the Replacements and might not even know it.
Replacements fans are a pretty obsessive bunch, so we won't even bother talking in any depth about the bonus tracks, needless to say, beyond the usual alternate takes, there are some serious gems and a couple Holy Grail type tracks. But for folks new to the band, fuck the bonus tracks, the record themselves are practically perfect. Or at least perfectly imperfect. Anyone who ever saw the Replacements knows you had a fifty / fifty chance of seeing either the best show of your life, or the most insanely shitty show ever, and the records while not quite that haphazard, are just haphazard enough to keep that sort of excitement going. None of the tracks are perfect, the band is always loose, really loose, and the songs are always on the verge of total collapse, but the songs are catchy, and the lyrics are awesome, sometimes snotty and funny, other times poignant and bittersweet. In an age of genres, it's weird to listen to a band that is essentially their own genre. Beyond being just a rock band or a pop band, they are the Replacements and nearly 30 years on they still RULE.
Let It Be is THE ONE. If you had to pick a perfect, classic, all time essential indie rock record, or college rock record, or whatever you want to call it, it would be practically impossible to not pick Let It Be. The first record where the band finally merged their nascent pop genius with their chaotic rock chops. As Replacements fans, it's easy to declare every track a classic, and every record perfect, but Let It Be transcends any of that, even plenty of non fans find Let It Be irresistible, the songs here are amazing, simultaneously well crafted, tight as fuck, but still loose and wild. Opener "I Will Dare" sets the scene with its shuffley rhythm, wandering bassline, and killer main riff. Follow up "Favorite Thing" is just as good, another hook most bands would kill for, but these guys spit em out effortlessly. But Let It Be isn't all the 'new', 'more mature' Replacements, which the band prove with the next two tracks, the furious rocker "We're Coming Out" and the goofy "Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out", which while sort of a joke song, is still fucking AWESOME. The record is filled out with more gems, a Kiss cover, but a couple of the tracks would go on to remain what some folks might consider their finest moments: the gorgeous acoustic lament "Unsatisfied", and the mindblowing "Answering Machine", a gorgeous heartbreaker, just vocals and guitar, the guitar part pretty intense and moving all on its own, but the vocals are so bittersweet. What a way to end a record, and a perennial mixtape essential.
MPEG Stream: "We're Coming Out"
MPEG Stream: "Unsatisfied"
MPEG Stream: "Answering Machine"

REPLACEMENTS, THE Sorry Ma, Forgot To Take Out The Trash (Rhino) cd 17.98
What to say about the Replacements? Their history has been pretty well documented. By the end, they were everywhere, MTV, magazines, with a sound that had almost nothing in common with the records that made them the legends they so rightfully are. One guy died, one has gone on to a middling solo career, one is even in the current incarnation of Guns N' Roses. None of that means anything though when faced with the pure pop genius of their first 5 records, 4 of which just got reissued with tons of bonus tracks. We always just assumed that everyone loved the Replacements, cherished their beat up copy of Let It Be (Replacements not the Beatles), put "Answering Machine" on every mix tape, and the thought of writing about a band like that is pretty daunting. Definitely one of those instances where it seems like shouting "these guys rule!!!! Buy this now!!!" should suffice. And there's the fact that there are tons of kids listening to bands who ripped off bands who ripped off the Replacements and might not even know it.
Replacements fans are a pretty obsessive bunch, so we won't even bother talking in any depth about the bonus tracks, needless to say, beyond the usual alternate takes, there are some serious gems and a couple Holy Grail type tracks. But for folks new to the band, fuck the bonus tracks, the record themselves are practically perfect. Or at least perfectly imperfect. Anyone who ever saw the Replacements knows you had a fifty / fifty chance of seeing either the best show of your life, or the most insanely shitty show ever, and the records while not quite that haphazard, are just haphazard enough to keep that sort of excitement going. None of the tracks are perfect, the band is always loose, really loose, and the songs are always on the verge of total collapse, but the songs are catchy, and the lyrics are awesome, sometimes snotty and funny, other times poignant and bittersweet. In an age of genres, it's weird to listen to a band that is essentially their own genre. Beyond being just a rock band or a pop band, they are the Replacements and nearly 30 years on they still RULE.
Sorry Ma, Forgot To Take Out The Trash was their first proper full length, and is a corker. Definitely punk rock, but still infused with incredible hooks, catchy beyond belief, but super raw and frenetic, some of their best songs EVER: the kick ass rocker "Takin' A Ride", the furious punk rock jam of "Customer", the woozy "I Bought A Headache", the all time classic "Shiftless When Idle", The Husker Du worship of "Something To Du", the pop in punk's clothing of "Raised In The City", not a miss to be found, listen to the samples and you'll be hooked!
MPEG Stream: "Takin A Ride"
MPEG Stream: "Careless"
MPEG Stream: "Johnny's Gonna Die"
MPEG Stream: "Shiftless When Idle"

REPLACEMENTS, THE Stink (Rhino) cd 12.98
What to say about the Replacements? Their history has been pretty well documented. By the end, they were everywhere, MTV, magazines, with a sound that had almost nothing in common with the records that made them the legends they so rightfully are. One guy died, one has gone on to a middling solo career, one is even in the current incarnation of Guns N' Roses. None of that means anything though when faced with the pure pop genius of their first 5 records, 4 of which just got reissued with tons of bonus tracks. We always just assumed that everyone loved the Replacements, cherished their beat up copy of Let It Be (Replacements not the Beatles), put "Answering Machine" on every mix tape, and the thought of writing about a band like that is pretty daunting. Definitely one of those instances where it seems like shouting "these guys rule!!!! Buy this now!!!" should suffice. And there's the fact that there are tons of kids listening to bands who ripped off bands who ripped off the Replacements and might not even know it.
Replacements fans are a pretty obsessive bunch, so we won't even bother talking in any depth about the bonus tracks, needless to say, beyond the usual alternate takes, there are some serious gems and a couple Holy Grail type tracks. But for folks new to the band, fuck the bonus tracks, the record themselves are practically perfect. Or at least perfectly imperfect. Anyone who ever saw the Replacements knows you had a fifty / fifty chance of seeing either the best show of your life, or the most insanely shitty show ever, and the records while not quite that haphazard, are just haphazard enough to keep that sort of excitement going. None of the tracks are perfect, the band is always loose, really loose, and the songs are always on the verge of total collapse, but the songs are catchy, and the lyrics are awesome, sometimes snotty and funny, other times poignant and bittersweet. In an age of genres, it's weird to listen to a band that is essentially their own genre. Beyond being just a rock band or a pop band, they are the Replacements and nearly 30 years on they still RULE.
Stink came out right after Sorry Ma, and is just as punk rock, just as catchy, but a bit tighter. It begins with a recording of a house party being busted up by a cop before a quick count off and the band launches into "Kids Don't Follow", which is another all time Replacements classic. In fact, this is only an ep, but all 8 tracks totally rule. "Stuck In The Middle" has an incredible stop start chorus, and a hook to die for, "Dope Smokin' Moron" is almost a full on hardcore track, "Go" is practically a ballad, moody and melancholy, the first hint of what these guys might be capable of songwise, and the disc finishes off with yet another classic, "Gimme Noise", another killer chorus, and hooks galore. How many 'classics' is one band allowed to have? Get used to, it'll take a few more records before they stop kicking out stone cold classics like it ain't no thing...
MPEG Stream: "Kids Don't Follow"
MPEG Stream: "Fuck School"
MPEG Stream: "Stuck In The Middle"

REVERIES, THE Matchmakers Volume 1: The Music Of Willie Nelson (Rat-Drifting) cd 14.98
The Reveries were indeed a revelation. A modern slow-mo, off-kilter, creaky rickety avant country combo, whose sound was a bleary blend of campfire twang, woozy slowcore, and most notably, a system by which each player holds a tiny speaker in their mouths while they play, with the various other players sending their sounds and signals into the mouths of the other players, letting the various musicians shape and twist and contort those sounds, often combining them with their own vocal parts.
The result was truly unique, haunting, mysterious, and gorgeously fractured. The last Reveries disc, was titled Plays The Music Of Sade. We weren't sure if that was some high concept thing, and it was in fact inspired by the Marquis De Sade, or if they were indeed covers of songs by the pop vocalist Sade (pronounced shar-day). It's perhaps a testament to the Reveries skill at reinvention that we were unable to realize that they were actually Sade covers (or it might speak to our being wholly unfamiliar with her body of work minus THAT song) Regardless, just like the record before, the Reveries created a wholly otherworld of moaning melodies, and creeping tempos, of strange voices, of detuned guitars, warbly basslines, shuffling percussion, all warped and funhouse mirrored by their circuitous journey from instrument to amp to speaker to mouth to microphone to recorder to compact disc.
On this first volume, in a proposed ongoing series, the Reveries tackle, as the title suggests, the music of country music icon Willie Nelson, and it's a pretty fine match. The first track is a surprise though, fairly rocking by Reveries standards, a rollicking version on "I Let My Mind Wander", with propulsive drumming, some serious riffing, and that strange whistle like melody that the band seems to lace each song with, a sort of falsetto croon. And the vocals as always are a sort of mush mouthed garble, due in no small part to the singe having to sing around the speaker in his mouth.
The rest of the record unfurls lazily, all creaking back porch blues, the guitars often drifting by in disembodied twangs, each arrangement spare and abstract and seemingly always on the verge of collapse, the drums shuffling and minimal holding it all barely together, but it's the melodies that make it immediately the Reveries, each one, each vocal line wavery and woozy, unfurled and filtered through a jew's harp like warble, keening whistle like tones tangled and ghostlike. Even the most recognizable songs, like "Crazy", become something totally and utterly different.
The overall sound is dark and drunken, mournful and mysterious, some tracks add harmonica, nose-flute, singing saw, and while those elements add to the lushness of the Reveries' sound, they're almost unnecessary, their core sound is so delicate and alien even at its most stripped down, so beautifully creepy, that all it ever takes to suck us in is that slow languorous twang, some warbly vocals, and a sweetly sad minor key melody...
MPEG Stream: "Any Arms Won't Do"
MPEG Stream: "Didn't Sleep A Wink Last Night"
MPEG Stream: "I Let My Mind Wander"

DOES IT OFFEND YOU, YEAH? You Have No Idea what your Getting Yourself Into (Virgin) cd 13.98
Oh how we wanted to hate this band. The hype. The blogs. The cheeky name. The fact that they were signed to a huge record deal based on two MySpace tracks. We're sure there are more reasons, but for now that's plenty. The glut of total dancey electronic bullshit, overhyped blog-house, it's killing us. Not to sound like old men, but remember when bands played instruments and wrote songs, and spend months, maybe years working on albums, recorded in studios? Yeah, we don't either actually.
But fuck it, we wanted to hate it, but it would be foolish not to just accept the fact that this record rules. We can't stop listening to it. The opener is a dancefloor destroying banger. Huge fuzzy synths, lots of squelch and grind and buzz, tearing a page straight out of Justice's playbook and scribbling all over it with dayglo crayons. But that's the only track on the record that sounds like that. The rest of the disc is all over the map, angular dancepunk, total cotton candy synth pop, and in fact, most of the disc is much more song-y, verses choruses, crunchy guitars pounding drums, wild howled vocals, and HOOKS everywhere. But fear not synthies, there is still plenty of electronic weirdness and synth overload, but that stuff is deftly woven into actual songs.
The second track is a killer as well, super grindy guitars, funky propulsive drumming, howled vocals, super proggy arrangements, swirling synths, dense and heavy, but still funky and groovy. The next track veers back a bit toward the vibe of the opener, but this time it's all vocodered Kraftwerk worship, peppered with sweeping synth buzz and funky cowbell, and a pretty irresistible hook.
Our favorite right now (although it changes every time we listen to it) is probably "Dawn Of The Dead", a total eighties pop jam. Sounding like it came straight out of a John Hughes movie, soaring and bubblegummy, big guitars lush harmonies, it dangerously close to being cheesy, but it's so fucking awesome.
Later there are some surfy carnival organ jams, more eighties technopop, some unabashed total Daft Punk worship, some angular jangle guitar artpunk, flecked with skittery drum machines, and a massive hook filled chorus, the record is almost so scattered that it threatens to be a total mess, but somehow, the songs all sort of fit together, forming some dizzying sugar rush of technicolor techno flecked pop punk synth fuzz bliss.
We're gonna go blog about it. Right now (ummm, not really, just kidding, we SWEAR...). Though I guess this comes close.
MPEG Stream: "Battle Royale"
MPEG Stream: "With A Heavy Heart (I Regret To Inform You)"
MPEG Stream: "Dawn Of The Dead"

NADJA Thaumogenesis (aRCHIVE) cd 13.98
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
This is a super limited re-press of the long out of print Thaumogenesis record, released on aRCHIVE a while back. Only 500 copies, and supposedly the second and final re-press so don't miss out again...
Here's our review from when we first listed it:
The latest from Aidan Baker's slow motion sludge metal doom duo Nadja.
And it's a killer. One single 62 minute long track, bass, guitar and drum machine, all woven into a slowly undulating soundscape of blissy drone and monstrous pummel.
The disc begins with 5 minutes of glistening shimmer, a slowly shifting swirl of bleary eyed sound. before the hammer falls and the beast lurches forth. A lush, massive, lumbering dirge, but rife with dense layers of sound, nearly orchestral in it's depth, a cyclical main riff, downtuned and dripping with distortion, beneath that, a strange glimmering melodic sparkle, as if millions of tiny diamonds were sprinkled into the blackened tarpit sludge, beneath it, a simple machinelike rhythm pulses relentlessly, like some sort of robotic heartbeat. It's like some Frankensteinian collage of Godflesh, Jesu, SUNNO))) and old Swans. It's heavy and bleak and doomy, but like Jesu, the sound is imbued with a strange warmth, and emotional mystery, that makes this much more than an exercise in guitardrone.
And the sound is not static, it wavers and shifts, the melody subtly changing shape, all without the rhythm ever wavering. About 20 minutes in, the wall of guitar drops away, leaving simple distorted strums to float weightless above a single drum hit, repeated over and over, strangely meditative and serene. Before building back up again, but instead of sounding metallic, it sounds lush and expansive, the guitars billowing and glowing, a mighty Ur-drone, alive and vibrant.
Almost halfway through, a totally amazing riff is introduced, a moaning minor key melody that soars over the swirling blackness below, and adds all sorts of tension, a lurching slow motion stoner rock almost, that gives away once again to a blissed out soundscape of soft fluttering tones and warm muted colors, before erupting into one final salvo, a blinding burst of white light from the mouth of infinity, a soul shearing wave of incandescent guitars and psychedelic overload. Like Merzbow filtered through M83 and played by Philip Jeck, a glorious blast of spectral majesty, radiant and absolutely breathtaking.
MPEG Stream: "Thaumogenesis (excerpt 1)"
MPEG Stream: "Thaumogenesis (excerpt 2)"

M83 Saturdays = Youth (Mute) cd 14.98
Over the course of several records, M83 have virtually invented their own genre, we're not even sure what to call it, but it's some sort of gossamer, fuzzed out blissy dream pop, so much so that, the name M83 itself became an oft referenced descriptor when referring to bands of all stripes that borrowed bits of fuzz or buzz or bliss from M83's sonic palette.
The last record, Before The Dawn Heals Us, found the band shedding some of their more arty influences, much of the krautrock, some of the electronica, lots of the buzzy shoegaze, opting instead for some straight up eighties pop, replete with cheesy electronic drums, big choruses, super effected guitars, a gloriously retro chunk of sweetly dated pop, BUT, they balanced that with some seriously over the top fuzzed out bombast.
However, that record definitely hinted at what was to come, and now years later, the bombast is long gone, and if anything, the band has delved even further into our teenage years, and reinvented themselves as a band plucked right from MTV circa 1985, and we love it! This is total emo. Before there was emo. The soundtrack to hanging out in parking lots, crushes, love notes, first kisses, John Hughes movies, falling in love, break ups, mix tapes and all that stuff.
The sound of Saturday = Youth is that, the sound of Saturdays, no school, hanging out with friends, the sound of being young, your whole life ahead of you, but with every second feeling like it could be your last. So much angst, so much passion, so much hope, and so much fear. All perfectly represented by this collection of gloriously glistening sunshine-y pop and fuzzy synthy electro pop.
The record begins with melancholy piano and swoonsome synths, fluttery female vocals somewhere between Kate Bush and Elizabeth Fraser, an intro that quickly gives way to some straight up eighties style MTV pop, a la Tears For Fears, all wooshing and emotional and dramatic, but so awesome. Not sure if this would be quite as appealing to someone who hadn't grown up on this kind of stuff, but for those of us who did, it's pretty irresistible. The next song is all electronic drums, and super processed soaring female vocals, squiggly synths, electric piano, and more super dramatic soaring choruses.
Our favorite so far is probably "Graveyard Girl", with its Cranberries-esque intro, all big jangling guitars, and crooned vocals, the melody super sweet and melancholy, drifting over swooning synths and a relentless rhythm, this is perfect pop, harmonies and hooks, all filtered through that particular time. It helps that there's a video that pretty much perfectly captures the spirit of the song. With a cute gothy girl who visits the pet cemetery and leaves dog toys and kibble on gravestones, pining after the cute boy. Filmed all fuzzy and old, so it looks just like out memories feel. There's even a spoken word part in the middle, delivered by a young girl, talking about loneliness and love, it's pretty perfectly heart wrenching. And then the artwork, all fuzzed out photos of various teens, the jock, the goth girl, the cute guy, the hot girl, the nerd, the punk, all hanging out in some sun dappled park on a Saturday, killing time, being young.
The whole record is like that, so totally moving and jubilant and emotional and slightly cheesy but in a really good way. Whether they're channeling the electronic skitter of New Order, or the fluttery dramatic pop of Kate Bush, or the jangle rock bombast of the Hooters, it's the very best kind of retro. It all makes us feel either really really old, or secretly sort of young again. Or like we're in some awesome eighties teen movie. Regardless, we love it, and can't seem to stop listening to it...
MPEG Stream: "You, Appearing"
MPEG Stream: "Kim & Jessie"
MPEG Stream: "Skin Of The Night"
MPEG Stream: "Graveyard Girl"

HELLHAMMER The Demon Entrails (Century Media) 2cd + book 27.00
We could easily fill several paragraphs talking about the historical significance of Hellhammer (speaking of metal history, not world history, of course, though for some of us the two are of equal importance). But if you're reading this, and possibly already considering buying a deluxe double cd (or triple vinyl!) set of the band's early demo recordings, you probably already know something about the seminal significance of Swiss primal metal trio Hellhammer, the precursors to Celtic Frost. If you do want to know more, we'd point you to the liner notes to this release, written by HH/CF mainman Thomas Gabriel Fischer (aka Tom G. Warrior, aka Satanic Slaughter), which were adapted from his forthcoming book Only Death Is Real, all about the early '80s origins of those two bands.
As you probably know, Hellhammer started off as an amateur but enthusiastic exercise in teenage worship of NWOBHM black metal originators Venom, but took Venom's defining sound to further extremes, becoming a pioneering band not only in the black metal genre, but also for death metal and sludgy doom metal as well. And all this without much of a recorded legacy, just the 1984 Apocalyptic Raids ep and some compilation tracks and these demos, the band's initial recording sessions at long last presented officially on cd and vinyl, remastered from the original master tapes.
These three demo cassettes -- Satanic Rites, Death Fiend, and Triumph Of Death -- were released in mere handmade handfuls back in 1983. Including raw(er) versions of such later classics as "The Third Of The Storms", "Triumph Of Death", and "Revelations Of Doom", as well as many otherwise unheard Hellhammer hammerings, such morbid morsels as "Dark Warriors", "Crucifixion", "Decapitator", "Ready For Slaughter", and, er, "Bloody Pussies", it's 29 tracks, 102 minutes of truly ancient evil that any self respecting black/death/doom metaller should revel in. With a twanging low-end of rubbery bass, lurching riffs, pogoing rhythms, echoed vocals, these decidedly lo-fi recordings sound almost like a no-wave take on metal. Accidentally avant-garde (unlike Celtic Frost's later efforts to intentionally be so), Hellhammer were so wretched and fucked up that they've defined "necro" for all time. Hear here how they began.
The limited edition double cd version is packaged in a handsome, slipcased hardback digibook, 5.5" x 7.5", with a 36 page booklet bound inside, plus a small poster. Within the booklet, you'll find hella vintage black and white necro photography, xeroxed flier artwork, the original cassette covers, lyrics and liner notes from the band. Along with occult artwork, including a previously unpublished demonic pencil sketch by bassist Martin Eric Ain that, since it's rendered on graph paper, has us speculating that these guys probably were playing D&D in their bunker as well as recording the metal of death.
Meanwhile, the vinyl edition (also quite LIMITED, the eight we have are probably all we'll ever have) is a truly weighty proposition, 180 gram vinyl in a thick gatefold package with the aforementioned booklet, etc. as well.
Once the deluxe cd edition is gone, we'll have the regular, less-deluxe (but also less expensive) version.
MPEG Stream: "Crucifixion"
MPEG Stream: "Maniac"
MPEG Stream: "Decapitator"

YORO SIDIBE s/t (Yaala Yaala) cd 14.98
Picture yourself in Mali, watching a ceremony unfold in front of you wherein a group of mysterious men dressed in mudcloth robes and jodhpurs gather behind a central figure playing a ngoni (a traditional African stringed instrument that looks and sounds like some stinging, buzzing, droning cross between a banjo, a lute and an oud), while another grinds out a rhythm on a nkerenye (a ridged metal cylinder that is scraped with a small metal rod). The men all carry huge, ancient, crude muskets which they fill with gunpowder by the goathorn-full as they snake through the crowd, firing balls of flaming powder and wadding into the air. The central figure begins to sing and the rest of the men fall in behind him - sometimes repeating lines, sometimes responding with a repeated chorus, sometimes simply adding a shout of praise or a