What do you play when you’re the girl who’s played everything? After several years and many recordings of power noise triumph, Eva Aguila aka Kevin Shields plays her first full-length, ‘The Death of Patience’. An actual CD with jewel case and slick CD art, this is an imploding star so dense it’s taken three labels to bring it to you - it even came with a one-sheet: “The pieces on this release focus on various combinations of function generator, omni-chord, and a homemade mechanical device.” There are five tracks in ascending order from five to eleven minutes, bursting out the gate with the murderous “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished”: from a few, gingerly-picked piano notes, a torrent of black bloody rage pours fourth Hototogisu/Prurient - shit, Kevin Shields-style - the right channel stuttering as it attempts to contain the frequency. Unrelenting, the track just spews up, tinged with sharp tones, only momentarily relaxing in order to wind up for even Bigger Throws. With duration comes contemplation (evinced by the tracks’ progression and the long-player itself), and “Nothing’s Neverending” follows with slower breaks of static and a pure bass drone, midway tightening its crumpled tone to reveal an actual fake/machined beat and reverberating piano song of by no means “soft” quality, but by comparison, absolutely placid. Maintained for nearly a quarter of the track, the reverberations grow harsh, even harsher then from which they emerged, and illustrate the title with a shattering whip of the taut sonic surface. Third, “Apparently” is an entirely monochromatic piece of maximalist noise, yet totally unique and original for Aguila’s careful craftsmanship and attention to detail. An experiment in manipulation, “Catholic Guilt” runs a simple pulsation through a spanking machine of intensifying distortion, maintaining its general shape but now hideously maligned. Final entry “Bless You” spends a healthy lead-up with some sparse Throbbing Gristle pitter-patter before violently shifting into thick beats and measured albeit distorted verses in duet with feedback squeal then a lengthy synthesizer solo, and take a look because that inevitable, fantastic moment has come: Club Noise. Each track of ‘The Death of Patience’ was recorded in a different location, the whole bunch mastered to super-unified perfection by bosom buddy Brian Miller (Deathbombarc). Full-color inserts are mostly unreadable with one good photo, one bad one, and some great drawings. Outstanding! (Deathbombarc/Entropic Tarot/EMR CD, $10(US/Canada)/$16(World) HERE)

Huge delivery to your door from Musicyourmindwillloveyou:

mymwly0074 Medroxy Progesterone Acetate – 'we’re a monotonous band' CDr $10
"Wild shit storms of gorgeous noise spun about abstract sonic narratives create a dense sound world of screaming, ecstatic implosions, harmonic buzz and sheeting walls of white light."

mymwly0075 Hrönir – 'Bardo Thödol (liberação por audição no plano post morten)' CDr $10
"imagined events swim in broken symphonic mirrors like deep pools of memory their winged keys carry delicate melodies , and create a bridge between worlds…then fires become electric bugs , minute armies , transport…like a film score that needs no film…concrete , assembled and seamless."

mymwly0082 Blank Realm - 'free time' CDr $10
"Out of our nor eastern sparkling sea city comes damaged free psych swim and spaced out inward clean streams of meaning nothing is everywhere all the time , the way this one rolls from the out it is more space than signifier , all growling gentle sines and filters , building their temple a wide mind upon waves of schism and perfect void."

mymwly0083 Przewqlskis Horses – 'a rock cast into the sea has more than a drowning fate' CDr $10
"Crackle and buzzzzzz…roomy improvisations upon electric vehicles , creates a spacious realm wherein minute movements become grand statements of voidism. In time the human seems a distant remembrance, an afterthought or wraith."

mymwly0084 Century Plants - 'infinite eligible mysteries' CDr $10
"Grand open vistas of sound , like the space rock has lost its motor but the power remains running…unbound. Horizons melt into oceans into dreams deep with cosmic gleam…small holes begin to appear and space is swallowing itself for hunger to be all."

mymwly0085 6majik9 – 'the majik house' CDr $10
"reissue of this little tugger, previously on bread and animals…recorded in a house with majik , silent ghosts encouraged and trained us, unknown to us at the time…but in looking back their weirdo suggestions shine true.Here’s what ecstatic peaceniks said “Another outstanding find by this Belgian label. 6majik9 are considered an output of the newest strain of Australian psychedelia but they are way more outside the margins than that. Real homefire mood blankouts that drag down into bursts of sunshine lung goop.”

mymwly0086 6majik9 – 'your friends are a photograph of your future' CDr $10
"another reissue, previously on sloow tapes . here’s what some Italian guy said roughly translated by the babel fish robot – “The far, mysterious Australia has always some secret very guarded. One of these, the 6majik9 has all'.attivo the usual myriad of cassettes and cd-r, roba more or little interesting, chaotic, foolish and via at this rate. Insomma, we are in the norm of "weird-shit music", even if I must admit that this "Your Friends Are To Photograph Future Of Your" possesses an unexpected fascination, for which trying to pull them a po' outside from the basements me seems than right more. Folk of the caverns, impro-noise and "improvised" of quarter hand: one beautiful mix, indeed. The way, says the tracklist, is to the inverse one. Here a foolish paradise, lì the hell that attends there. And this paradise is beautiful brodo primordiale of thoughts scattered, of sonorous events to skids: the Temple Of Bon Matin after the catastrophe, sick finishes them ("Heaven"). A air of ritualismo putrido ("The Ants Are In Jenny' s Sis"), on the background of toxic twilights ("Beyond The Portals, He' s Waiting"). It damages badly to you, wanderers without a goal, play with reverberates and the stratifications, dipped in a radioactive and brulicante world of last fremiti vital - those fremiti behind which not t' aspects at all of being able to trace dark decayed macchinazioni of divinity! Nevertheless... ("You' king Burning My Face"). 6majik9 it is the beauty of the disorder for the disorder, even also with a little electronics for principianti ("Not The Towers"). A beauty that needs of blots some rebellious, by now driven crazy ("Jason Diamond' s"); of objects it votes you to the cause of a destabilizing, anti-academic, rascal and ritualisticamente martial sinfonismo ("Fiancèe"); able, also, to prepare the land for the anti-advent, the bad one-novel (the esalazione space-raga of "Hell", exterminated bridge suspended in an empty cargo of curses). 6majik9 it is, insomma, an other reason in order not to scorn your psychological small turbe.” Exactly."

WEBSITE

Something new from Arbor:

arbor11 Tent/City CDr $7
"Past the desert smoke and arid dust trails of Arizona lies an Oasis of broken folk. Occupied by Tent/City, this area is like a river of creativity and blessed drones. Six artful dwellers armed with instruments ranging from pots and pans to synths and guitars, pianos and flutes, have the perfect recipe for clattery commune psych. Taken out of their natural habitat and thrown into the studio they offer these five tracks to the coyote spirit. The first three tracks act as studies focusing on different pairings of the featured instrumentation. This culminates in the fourth track, an epic 12 minute long jam full of rotted synth, flute prayers, electric guitar with hints of the raccoon's good blessing, all over a foundation of unwavering percussion." In an edition of 90 triangle stickered cd-rs with an insert all in a hand sewn paisley pouch complete with button clasp. WEBSITE

And from Not Not Fun:

Pocahaunted - 'Emerald Snake on Ruby Velvet' 3" CDr $4
"Here’s the deal: despite all hoopla/wrath/rapture focusing on Pocahaunted’s feather headdress mythos, their true vocal and musical reality draws equally from such non-native locales as the Staples Center (hi-tops) and Nature Mart (gluten-free raw-volutions). And this is key/crucial to keep in mind when meditating on the street beats and dub futurism of Emerald Snake on Ruby Velvet, the Eagle Rockers most recent reverb guitar mantra. A late summer set staple and a water-testing foray into the echo chamber percussion of Pocahaunted’s impending world/trance/dub-inspired LP on Arbor, Emerald Snake... coils in concentric circles of voice-wave wash-out and upsetter drone stutter, buoyed by Bobb Bruno’s drum pad path-finding. A new step away from the Trail of Fears of reinvention." Mystic-eye-stamped discs in cases with hand-cut covers embroidered with swatches of dyed snakeskin, in a hand-numbered edition of 99. WEBSITE

And a triumphant split release between labels:

arbor20/nnf091 Black Monk - 'Flowstone' LP $12(postage-paid)from Arbor/$10 from NNF
"Flowstoned and dethroned, finally. Last year's bored/burning summer spell of Eagle Rock entropy birthed a numb drum 'n drones duo dubbed Black Monk. The aesthetic of inept, free-punk drumming and red-eyed, void-surfing low-end infinity found output on two micro-limited cassette releases (one on Buried Valley, one on Zac/Lambsbread's Maim & Disfigure) and one weedian live show (in Tempe, AZ) and then the scholars split to separate coasts. Fortunately for us/you, Flowstone comes crawling outta the caverns of a babeless summer on a slab of black wax, collecting their out-of-print Murmur CS and half the V CS, plus an unreleased side-long wastoid-land of subterranean percussion and roaring magma. Just in time for 2012." Black vinyl LPs in stark pro-printed fold-over covers plus a poster of arcane team scribble by BM. Limited to 270.

BOOM! Digitalis:

(DIGI045) Pocahaunted/Robedoor - 'Hunted Gathering' 2xCD $20
"There's a savage battle raging in the hallowed streets of Los Angeles, being fought by prehistoric megaliths spewing lava from their mouths. These acid-tongued shamans are interested in one thing and one thing only, and that's to raze this city to the ground. Okay, perhaps it's not so apocalyptic, but hot off the heels of opening for Sonic Youth, dirt worshipers Robedoor and their native sisters Pocahaunted have unleashed an army for the ages with "Hunted Gathering." Drones painted with black holes collapse under their own weight while the archangelic voices of Pocahaunted birth a brand new world of spirit decay. "Hunted Gathering" is both a split release and a collaboration. Each band offers up their own malfeasance while collaborating on the epic final eponymous track. The union of these two groups is a natural combination. Two members are married and run the Not Not Fun label together and they share amps and practice space, for example. But there's also something about both that is visceral and raw. Robedoor's subsonic doom is washed down with a smooth chaser of Pocahaunted's reverberating soul sounds. Recorded by the inimitable Bobb Bruno at the NNF/Bored Fortress studio space across many moons in 2007 and mastered by Yellow Swans' Pete Swanson, "Hunted Gathering" is an essential feast for fans of doom-infused drones and Stevie Nicks. These hunting & gathering songs from the Eagle Rock air also feature appearances by the aforementioned Bruno as well as Changeling mastermind, Roy Tatum. Climb the totem pole and let these mutant beasts put you under their psychosis spell. "Hunted Gathering" is full of antiquated sounds soaked in electric mud. Robedoor and Pocahaunted are your brothers and sisters in conjuring and the gatekeepers to a lost universe of sonic enchantment." Hear a couple excerpts HERE and order HERE

(DIGI044) John Clyde-Evans - 'Apetal Thunderfall' CD $12
"It's been a monumental year for John Clyde-Evans. He recently returned from a year living in the Punjab region of India, and after a slew of releases under his Sikh name of Tirath Singh Nirmala, he's back to the good ol' JCE. That's not all that's changed, though. His latest opus, "apetal thunderfall," spins off into a new web of cacaphony, leaving behind the pastoral anthems of yesteryear and taking aim at a more abrasive ways to leave behind the rust. "apetal thunderfall" was recorded entirely during JCE's stay in Jalandhar in 2007 using found software and audio sources. The resulting recordings feel almost primitive. Evans uses his uncanny ability to blend and mix multitudes of tones into sprawling thickets of sound. It is hard to call this music drone, but at the same time there is a continous flow to these three pieces that works in a similar way. Over the course of 43 minutes, this music etches itself into your skull, drilling itself in deep without drawing blood. Divided into three tracks, "apetal thunderfall" is more a singular entity than a collection of works. This album is cathartic, both musically and as a vehicle for JCE himself. But make no mistake, this is not spiritaul music with mystic over/undertones. Simply, it is the new aural vision from one person made while living in India for a year. It is abrasive yet beautiful, and harkens back to a time and place when things were far less complicated." Excerpt HERE and order HERE

HQ WEBSITE

Introductions are well past over, so let’s get straight to business: ‘All the Animals of the Forest’ is the newest long-player from Oklahoma’s totally fantastic and always enjoyable Anvil Salute. Following the thirty second thumb-pianoed intro “Intro”, “Shape to Endless Middle” breaks through with multi-part, sitar-vibrato guitars and percussion by the many hands of Vishnu, the full band regularly leaning back into a refrain nearly identical to the central theme of Lambchop’s ‘How I Quit Smoking’. Bumped-up from the regular Anvil Salute cast of six to a platoon of nine, the album’s nine tracks share more than an uncanny aesthetic with the out-folk of Jackie-O Motherfucker; in addition, the social function of the music is contained in the unrestraint of the players, free to come and go within the song as we imagine they do the session, inverting the traditional cage of the recording booth into a limitless space of natural light and flocks of notes which travel to old age. Tracks like “Golden Spiral” and the unfortunately-titled “Hot Ham Water” are a grateful celebration of this fact, looping guitar-founded jubilees ala Jackie-O’s ‘Magick Fire Music’ plus central saxophone contributions recalling Do Make Say Think in the finest throes of ‘&Yet & Yet’. The darker tune “Abduction” follows a similar suit, possibly a tribute to the Sun City Girls, but for reference sake, much more akin to the post-rock semi-jazz of Tortoise. Indeed, the band’s tight, theme-based method does place them some where near the improvisation of jazz while still retaining the rock instrumental elements found in Thrill Jockey, etc. releases by the likes of Town and Country, Grails, or The Kingsbury Manx. “From One to One through One”, not to be confused with the similarly named Double Leopards work, is a calamitous (by comparison) raga busied by actual tabla, hand- and drummed-percussion, and locked into an even tighter spiral sans the special drive of a solo instrument. Following such indulgence, it is impressive they might restrict a piece like “What Todd Was Just Doing” to just one minute thirty: a minimal, far more nuanced piece of drum and acoustic with a rare focus on a diminished electric guitar, it could easily be expanded into a track four times its length, or as the band has chosen to do, use it as a build up to “Most Eloquent Combination of Letters”, a full-piece of similar focus on electric guitar noodling, glittering with chimes, the band never before as reminiscent of DMST and the cheerier side of Godspeed. It’s best that you know it going in, but the title-track finale is a 16 minute lead-out of sporadic percussion bursts, meandering guitar and other such strings – a slow-burning, fluttery raga that mounts a western nod in the back few, but ultimately wants to segue into your next great adventure. The timeless patina of the bold yellow jewel-cased cartoon art and absence of superfluous info places this disc anywhere in the last forty years, making it that much more of a classic. (LoFi Shit CD, $7 HERE - if you haven’t already, buy everything they’ve got!)

After a short break, goldfall from FirstPerson:

Plural 040 Schofield/Jarvis - 'Near Field Hypnosis'
"Cross country mind-meld following Schofield’s stellar “Frozen Stake” release (Singular 026) of last year. Schofield’s take on Guitar drone exists in “(…) a space between isolationism and monochrome psychedelia, Haino-esque notes run through a Dead C filter, the loose metallic strings ring out like spiralling bells through the dimness. The unpeeling, shining black sounds deep within these tracks take them light years away from run-of-the-mill feedback sourced rust jobs.”

Singular 041 Slow Listener - 'Bruise Journal'
"Taking time out from helping to run the CUROR label, Robin Dickinson has created a whole slew of essential releases in a very short space of time for such labels as Peasant Magik, Epicene, Celebrate Psi Phenomenon, Ruralfaune and Together Tapes with more forthcoming on Students of Decay, Tape Drift, Cosmic Germ, Phantom Limb and Calligraphic Tapes. “Bruise Journal” concentrates on the tonalities to be gleaned from a malfunctioning and over amped organ, producing attenuated feedback and sublime drones – “hotwired frequencies in slow decline”.

Plural 042 Xochipilli - 'Aircquocces of the Arc Tones'
"Based in Angers , France , Florian Tossitti records under many monikers including THE REGGAEE, COSMIC MANDOLINERS and GHOST BRAMES OF THE CERFS as well as running the LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI label. XOCHIPILLI is his duo with Antoine Clemot and finds the pair exploring a layered and smoke filled underworld. Submerged melodies jostle with raw field recordings, cheap synths and mumbled declarations. Images creep into peripheral vision only to disappear under close scrutiny; a truly dosed and ultimately rewarding journey."

Plural 043 Ghost of an Octopus - 'Two'
"Second outing for the Mancunian dream team of Stuart Arnott (SMEAR CAMPAIGN, TOTAL VERMIN label, BARBARIANS) and Joincey (PUFF, STUCKOMETER, COITS, INCA EYEBALL, SABOTEUSE). Real time gtr/bass throw-down, needle thin electric tone circumnavigates a yawning low end interspersed with static interruptions."

Plural 044 Ys Trys - 'Cy Clo Path'
"Whilst their STUCKOMETER comrades were out buying “White Lightning” and fag papers Karl and Pascal (whose drumming talents recently aided the reformed A BAND) thrashed out some pent up aggression resulting in three tracks of scorched improvised gtr and drums. Jaw-dropping stereo gtr pyrotechnics compete with Pascal’s attention deficit sticksman-ship with some choice garbled vocalisations thrown into the mix for good measure."

Singular 045 Culver - 'The Psychic'
"Like an imaginary out-take from Alan Splet’s work on the Eraserhead soundtrack, Lee Stokoe lays down some serious monochord drone. Dark, atmospheric and filled with glorious hidden tonalities, the jewels are buried way deep for those willing to take the plunge."

All titles 3” CD-R and limited to 75 copies. £3 each - All 6 for £15 (P+P is Free in the UK)



Samples, etc. HERE, inquiries go to EMAIL

And: All previous releases (001 – 039) will be available from now in editions of 50. Including titles by Ashtray Navigations, Neil Campbell, Alex Neilson, Ben Reynolds, Culver, Voice of the Seven Woods, Taiga Remains, Chora, etc…

The two latest discs from Corwood Industries have been on the shelf for a few weeks now, which probably means they are in fact no longer the latest. The oft prolific for the sake of prolific Jandek expelled two albums with not a season between, ‘The Ruins of Adventure’ and the double-CD ‘Manhattan Tuesday’, making for 3 discs of the man’s troubled musing. To draw comparisons to those Jandek discs with which I may be familiar should prove futile as the chances of you and I, the casual listener, crossing the same discs seems highly unlikely; and for the die-hard, this should be of no use at all, as you know something the rest of us don’t, and will apparently sit through hours of this stuff heeding no warning good or bad. If I may be so bold: a proper Jandek release bled-over from the precluding ‘What Else Does the Time Mean’ – even the cover art a lazy abstract of the other’s photo - ‘The Ruins of Adventure’ holds five tracks no shorter than seven minutes a piece. Recorded in the same vacuum as each of his “studio” discs, the clean, harped guitar and pained voice refuse any marker of age, with only the clarity of the recording serving to place this somewhere mid-career or better. The lines of opener “The Park”, while too elapsed to sting coherently together, suggest a very angry young man or a typically angry old man – both of which apply – frustrated with change, the unfairness of gifts never given. The sloppy, resentful combination of discordant guitar and vocals feels the self-same point from which fellow Texan Smog began, idiosyncratic creativity somewhere on the near but other side of the bent axis from which Jonathan Richman managed to create his “pop” music. In his own listless monotony, the man wrestles with subtle changes in voice (though apparently unhappy with any results), on “Bluff Brink” attempting to construct a vague yodel from the cracking of his voice. Through the clear improvisation of his lyrics, the odd quotation will appear, lines like “You’ve got your damages, and I’ve got mine/ We’ve corrected the discrepancies, and we’re moving on” resembling the cadence and sentiment of a Beatle, but probably a Velvet on track “Completely Yours”. The 15 minute title-track comes last, loaded with some of the man’s more emotive, identifiable lyrics, shifting quizzically from outright plaints “Life seems so pointless/ And stupid survival, leads to stimulation” to abstract proverb “but really/ If you’re not fighting for your life/ You just hurt yourself, or/ Find a cloud of unknowing/ To hide behind”, but really, who’s listening to Jandek for advice?

Like the spare handful of live discs which capture the spare handful of live Jandek appearances, ‘Manhattan Tuesday’ arrives on two discs in seven parts, a document of his (first?) New York show (and US appearance?) in the fall of 2005 immediately following a string of shows in the UK. It is also his fiftieth release, and suitably huge. Though not credited as such – like the majority Corwood releases, there are no credits (who’s there to credit?) – Jandek is accompanied here by an electric guitarist (Loren Connors), a bass player (Matt Heyner), and a percussionist (Chris Corsano[!]), himself on electric organ and vocals (too many parentheses). Misleadingly subtitled “Afternoon of Insensitivity”, the recording sounds like the final act of the feel-good movie, where the disgruntled loner finds friends and is treated to his very own concert performance, shedding his callous of angry discordance to emerge as the psychedelic deity which he originally pined to be. Perhaps named for the second track in which he chants the album’s subtitle in the English-as-a-second-language, Popul Vuh Zen which he affects for the duration, the album contains possible renditions of past tracks, but if so, rendered beyond all recognition with beautiful colors so long absent from his monochrome catalog: Germanic psychedelia swirls from the guitar’s neck, delicate drum signatures divine a secret, brilliant rhythm, and the man’s baroque, Iron Butterfly keyboards sail above with the central accent of a Doors trip. Divided by time constraint as opposed to theme or narrative, the tracks do not necessarily differ between first and second discs; in general the songs unfurl across the clamor of restrained drums and guitar washes kept at a respectable distance, keyboard meandering and the preacher escaping lines with entire control. The expository, inharmonic quality of voice in parts Four and Five - large segments of which feature little accompaniment – resemble the obtuse avant-garde of Patty Waters and her studied accomplices. But beyond the wide scope of multiple instruments and the actual groove of the krautrock, the most bizarre addition is the enthusiastic applause of the audience which litters the end of each piece, an intercourse completely absent from formal Jandek discs. Though this flesh and blood persona may shatter the legend of mystery on disc proving it largely irrelevant, in many ways Jandek has always been a spirit, now resurrected as a man through his most recent entrée into few, yet very live appearances, and in turn, a rebirth as an artist with many endeavors left to be undertaken. Very recommended for casual and diehard listener alike. (Corwood Industries CD & 2CD, $7 & $11 HERE)

From the immortal Three Lobed:

TLR-056 Heavy Winged - 'Blacc Lust' CD $10
"We are pumped about the release of a CD from the NY/VT/OR trio Heavy Winged. "Blacc Lust" (TLR-056) is a reissue of two long out-of-print parts of the band's discography that originally came out in tiny CD-R micro editions (both "A Serpent's Lust," from an edition of 100 on Digitalis, and "Blacc Stork," from an edition of 50 on Students of Decay). Musically, Heavy Winged scratch that overdriven High Rise-style proto-metal-psych noise itch in a nice, nice way. A little over an hour of good, heavy times." This disc is from an edition of 500 hand-numbered copies housed within arigato paks bearing original artwork by Beverly Shana Palmer. We want those of you not familiar with this band to check these guys out. Look for another Three Lobed release from Heavy Winged at some point in 2008.

WEBSITE

The newest from Deathbombarc:

'THRASH SABBATICAL' - Thurston Moore/Men Who Can't Love/Kevin Shields/Barrabarracuda 4-way split 12" & 2x7" boxset
$25(US)/$28(CAN)/$36(WORLD)
"An elaborate box-set of vinyl, pairing Thurston Moore 3 times with a selection of amazing Los Angeles acts. Box set will include equaly amazing art designed/curated by Britt & Amanda of Not Not Fun. Thurston Moore (you know the dude, he is in Sonic Youth) contributes music that ranges from beautiful acoustic guitar work to fierce noise and charging thud rhythms. Men Who Can't Love is the gang of young LA noise dudes that do the tag team thing like it is the ultimate party. They share the 12" w/ Moore, and hit you over and over with the tagteam efforts of Solitary Hunter, Impregnable, Moth Drakula, Haircut Mountain Transit, Toxic Loincloth, & Privy Seals. Barrabarracuda are the much more friendly sort, but welcome at the same party. Featuring Grace of Foot Village and Amanda of Pochahaunted on fireworks... erm drums and vocals, plus Britt of Robedoor on guitar and Nichole of Child Pornography on keyboard. Their split 7" w/ Moore is definitly the most melodic of the bunch. Kevin Shields (here as Eva Aguila of Gang Wizard & Amy V of Yuma Nora) fuses searing walls of aluminum with angelic harmonies for a tension that evokes pure joy. Their split 7" with Moore is matched with equal amounts joy and angelicism, but in soothing rather than tense manner. HEADS UP TO COLLECTORS: The art on this is totally DIY, rough and tumble, no two look a like, got dirt on them, crunched up cardboard style. While the vinyl itself is guaranteed to play without skips etc, the art never has existed in a "cherry" form, so please don't order if
you only like polished stuff."

Order via PayPal HERE

For wholesale prices, any questions, how to arrange non-paypal orders, etc; please EMAIL

Noise-tailor Fletcher Pratt presents eight untitled tracks titled ‘Leaking Brain Fluid’. In the pop-noise tradition of Bastard Noise, Fletcher experiments with manipulated sounds on canvases of radio-friendly length, occasionally and not accidentally hitting a musical stride which he then performs to upwards of eight minutes. Made of repeating figures and with small, anti-melodic flourishes similar to the work of Redrot and Pulse Emitter, these tracks stand out as his strongest, extrapolating the simple pleasantries of a stuck keyboard and crisp feedback into a layered round. All points of the standard decibel range are satisfied in these moments, making for a pleasantly full sound, one of weight and force. In many ways of the same minimalist sensibility as that of a drone work, all of Pratt’s pieces succeed by a focused point and few superfluous additions as best illustrated by the final piece of the disc, a LaMonte Young-inspired composition of spiky, sustained synthesizer and bowed sine wave. Blank CDr comes in a slim jewel-case with printer paper art which cannot do justice to the quality of this work. (Snip-Snip CDr, $4.5 HERE, or a little cheaper from Midori’s distro below)

Another recent Pratt release from his own Midori label in collaboration with Terence Fuller and his Abandoned Records, ‘KKRAKK!!’ is a tribute to cartoonish onomatopoeia as well as a reflection on noise music itself. Eight more tracks, now with names (sort of) and substantially longer length, the disc enjoys a far more human quality. Made from live percussion and feedback, and surely improvised, songs like “Splank” and “eee oooooooooooo” are raw, noisy, and raucous, anchored by old-timey radio snippets and plundered music. “ZZWUUMPH!” and the eight minute “tZZEEOOW” both center on live percussion and spare electronic sequencing with a touch of strings (provided by Fuller), suggesting that this set is more live than not, presented in order as the artist moves through the stations of the instruments. The 13 minute centerpiece “PFLATCH” and finale “oooootskratkkoooooo” continue to embrace the pots and pans disorder of percussion, now with extensive guitar mangling and slight vocal discharge. In the end, later track “TZKATOoosssh” appears best in line with Pratt’s ‘Leaking Brain Fluid’ as it would be performed live: slower, more calculated designs which better approximate the mimesis of the album’s 2D muse, plus an entirely badass saxophone line fed-out like machinegun Beat haiku. CDr comes in a thin clamshell with full-color comic collage art, hand-numbered to 50. (Midori CDr, $4 HERE)

More badness from out Thor's Rubber Hammer:

Sweet Teeth – ‘From the Fourth Hand of the Buddha the Lotus Was Born for the Seventh Time’ CDr $6
"Sweet Teeth combines both the sounds and members of Dark Meat and Long Legged Woman -- clusterpsych classic-rock tendencies paired with hypnotic avant-rock. ‘From the Fourth Hand’’s lone track, "Morning Raga," is a tribal drum-heavy affair recorded live at the 40 Watt in Athens, GA by the capable hands and ears of Asa Leffer. The monochordal frame has the band expanding the third eye in the crosshairs of Spacemen 3, Acid Mothers Temple and Pharoah Sanders." Artwork by the band. Pro-printed CDRs in a resealable polybag. Edition of 200.

V/A - ‘Brownturnsblack’ CDr $6
"‘Brownturnsblack’ is essentially a glorified mix CD disguised as a label sampler. Past/current TRHP artists contribute as well as other favorites and exclusives. New and obscure cuts ranging from psych-rock/folk and free-jazz to ambient and noise. Includes Owl Xounds, Chartreuse, Killick, Telenovela + Cat People, Altruizine, Saint Francis and the Christmas Donkey, Long Legged Woman, Magic Lantern, Smokedog, Eiliyas, and a rare occasion for Thor himself to record as Ancient Mariner y Caballo." B&W sticker on a large chocolate-brown envelope with a double black-sided CDR and blood-red insert. Edition of 198.

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Weeks ago I told Nate at Abandon Ship that I’d bump this sexy little batch up in line. Ta-da! this is what bumping looks like. I’m so behind. Thankfully they’re all still available from the label, which makes me feel less dumb for saying things like “I’ll bump this ahead in line!” Just the same, there have been a ton of great new AS releases since, so please don’t wait up.

Lucas Crane must be releasing some duplicate material out there somewhere – doubles, if you will – because there is literally not enough time in the year to release as much material as he does. This cassette by Crane alter-ego Nonhorse is ninety minutes long! According to the website, ‘Xol Mic’ is named for a student in Mother Crane’s classroom, the youth of tomorrow from whom “Torquqe binder” gains its inspiration. A rather indulgent experiment, the track is all non-linear improvisation with secondary instruments and smuggled electronics, sounding like an attempted symphony made by opening those boxes the ghostbusters use to trap spooks: a pedal is depressed, and a new spirit springs forth, howling at the sting of the air and singe of the daylight, assorted debris swirling in the ether. Other sounds are trapped as well – screaming kettles, electric trains, telephones – but the productive murk coalesces much of this into a single torrent of bassy chaos. “Tony’s Room” of side B, so named for the room in which it was recorded, begins with a swirl and a brassy buzzer before breaking into some hot-boxed black noise with Crane guest Foxy Pink Gloves emitting most-cautious clarinet bursts. Crane retorts with vibraphone notes and violent machine rumble, late-onset donkey squeal and dark clouds of electronic bass drone. By midpoint, repeating noise drone takes over, evolving a number of looping rhythms in stark minimalism. In the end, it is the trademark Nonhorse howl which dominates, a chorus of haunted winds which hum like a void. Recorded at Silent Barn, Brooklyn. Black cassette comes pro labeled on one side with a full color J-card, hand-numbered to 300 pieces - that’s a lot!

I had last seen CJA (Clayton Noone of The Futurians) on the badass ‘Pink Metal’ double CDr, a sprawling collection of what was seems upwards of 30 songs, an eclectic collection of distorted, folksy rockisms. Smokehouse (one Kaaterama Morehucan) is a new one, and despite the slash instead of an ampersand, this is a collaboration between the two and not a split as it otherwise suggests. I must say it is a mere perfect experience to hold this tape in your hands and observe the clean, well-organized cassette and cover Abandon Ship has laid-out, track listings for A and B sides placed neatly on the final panel in golden era cassette tradition. What’s more, when you press ‘play’ it sounds really good! Fulfilling the title’s promise, the ten tracks of ‘Whisky & Freedom’ are equal part lament and revelry presented in a lazy, hazy dog-day fashion ideal for these last weeks of summer. The gauzy atmosphere of the Spartan recording is thick, heightening that much more the warmth of this semi-improvised jam. In true lo-fi fashion, the duo share all duties, effortlessly retrieving songs from the guts of guitars, the teeth of organs, tops of drums, and with a most casual vocal delivery. In a classic Out/weird mode (Charalambides, Dead C, The Clean) there is a free mix of conventional – albeit “quirky” - songwriting and experimental sketches, with the benefit of variety derived from the fresh pairing of these two artists. Clayton’s rough delivery comes in nice compliment to Kaaterama’s depressed plaint; one man drowning and the other indifferent. And still, their guitars weep and rejoice in unison. At an ideal 30 minutes, this tape and its contents do the utmost justice to the medium. Apropos, full-color J-card houses a transparent red cassette with pro label, hand-numbered to 100. High recommendation. (Abandon Ship cassette, $5(US)/$6(No. America)/$7(World) HERE)

‘I’ve Wasted My Breath’ is a rare release by Buck Paco, a guy with a crew and an excess of songs – “about 95 percent of which have never been released” - and apparently a phobia of touching little red dots. From the label’s blurb on this, it seems a best of of sorts: five tracks compiled in a little 3” CDr for quick reference, a sampler, an introduction, or as the subtitle goes, A Buck Paco Primer. Paco plays guitar rock with a healthy, yet conservative (by modern standards) psychedelic tinge, hinting at Blue Cheer or even Der Steppenwolf of yesteryear, yet commiseratin’ with the Sic Alps and Wooden Shjips of this year. Each other track is an instrumental, starting with the tastefully-fuzzed jam “48 Hours and No White Elephants”, Paco’s guitar and two bass guitars carefully whittling around each other, trying not to touch swords as they shred on preciously different frequencies of distortion. “Don’t Tell Me”, if I may be so bold, don’t drop too far from the Queens of the Stone Age for Paco’s un-emotive (stoner) and understated vocals and weightless guitar entries. “Reciprocate” finds a very different speaker, his lines still delivered with detachment, yet the content more pained and kind of creepy; the repletion of guitar and double-fisted drumming make the menace complete, stalking between his lines with one big stabbing motion. At last, “Lonely Man’s Walk” struts a classic western bravado like a Morricone guitar solo, with radio squabble dust-devils in the backdrop. Very much a “primer”, each track stands alone and all are enjoyable, but it demands the legit release of similar tracks to really enhance to value of the parts. Labeled disc comes in a rad, disc/cartridge style case with tray and finely made paneled card. Hand-numbered to 100.

Working backwards, Abandon Ship number four is the label’s first CDr release - and a 3” at that – and honoring the position is ‘Zenit’ by the honorable The Futurians of New Zealand. With awesome b&w cover art and Crass lettering, the disc eagerly fucks with perceptions after traditional opener “Genetic Futurian” stomps its way to obsolescence. It’s like the band is evolving in the matter of 20 minutes. Omitting the sci-fi grunge punk of conventional releases up to this first track, we leap to the minimalist electronics display of “Black Gull”: all bleeps and bloops, sine-waving bass buzz, and Logan’s Run doorbell tones. “Laika” just gets artier, with squishy programmed percussion, tape manipulations, and piano-affecting synths into original flavor for an Airwolf midi solo. The 10 minute finale “Nuclear Future” presents an unprecedented dance minimalism, barely audible on purpose, machined bass drum beats punching dot matrices over a repeating note. One thing at a time until the sampled voice returns, then the volume raises and a rhythm enters the room, still too obtuse for dancing. This is truly futuristic, and it’ll make you smile. Labeled disc comes in a disc/cartridge style case with removable tray and card. Hand-numbered to 100. Start here. (Abandon Ship 3” CDr, $6(US)/$7(No. America)/$8(World) HERE)

Since finding this morning that these have been extinct/endangered for some time, I will keep this snappy. That is to say, the latest batch from Maine’s L’animaux Tryst (Field) Recordings sold out before the month of their release was up, leaving only the 3” CDr version of ‘Gora’ by Barry Burst to a few lucky stragglers. That is to say, in the L’animaux tradition the disc was released in two widths: the 5” medium (in my hands) and the 3” petite (soon to be in yours). Seeing as the album’s four tracks could fit on three inches, you may have already figured it brief. I didn’t, and before I put this one on, I expected a disc filled to the max with extensive raga-drones – possibly a good thing, but most likely an exercise in tedium. This could not be further from the truth, as the longest track “anja Sajan anja” peaks at seven minutes (and you will definitely wish it kept going), the rest no more than four and a half. There is absolutely no wasted space here. The aforementioned track is also the finale, half krautish slow-burner of keys, strings, and reverb-laced drums ala Faust or This Heat / half Harrisonian Starship pop-chant over tabla and flute loops, hand claps and traditional eastern strings, overlapping verses and a bulging bass-line to get your head rolling - pure incredibleness! But I get ahead of myself. Burst plays everything and records himself. The opening track “When the Bird Flies” launches from the chamber like a Yellow Submarine with a bittersweet flute arrangement, chimes, then into somewhere between Donovan and Syd Barrett herky jerk-melodic lyrics matching sitar licks and breathy chorus, crawling bass notes and hand percussion announce the post-British invasion vibe transposed all over the disc. In fact, the remarkable quality of this bedroom produced CDr sounds as though it was recorded by the very guy who made millions to record The Beatles, whomever this may be (yes, it pleases me not to know these things). A full-on raga, “Ke Bavajud Janata” is a million instruments in natural harmony, coupled with Burst’s modern Brit Pop verses, likewise approximating the lyrical works of Jewelled Antler, harmonized and chorused to a glazed perfection. In the face of all this glory, the pinnacle is found in the third quarter: “For Alice”, is a sprawling instrumental segue in the acidic mode of CAN with damp jazz drums, heavy piano clamp-down, and a rising tide of sitar and flute beckoned by the reedy cries of a horn - a preparatory ceremony for entrance to the final passage. I wrote that I’d keep this snappy before I played the disc; it has not been snappy and I apologize. This album has blown my mind. Slick, white-topped CDr comes in a handmade “Indian straw paper” sleeve (it’s really nice) with an ink-print sticker, hand-written notes and a Polaroid. Limited to a criminal 40 copies of each edition. Superior recommendation.

Not that you can have one, but the latest from Tempera, a cassette entitled ‘4.7.06 / 4.13.06’, is pretty good too. Despite its length three or four times that of ‘Gora’, there is much less to describe the two side-long performances, live sessions recorded a week apart in April of 2006. The Xeroxed insert which adjoins is difficult to read, but it appears that the line-ups differ slightly between days, with the latter seeing the addition of two more musicians to the presiding four. Uniform group chanting and the clatter of hammered percussion begins the first side, the voices of sincerely haunting quality and as though an earthen, northeastern compliment to the dark cantors of the southwest, say Robedoor and Changeling. There is a bassy mumbling of instruments beneath where shakers and various other hand percussives emerge, consolidating the meter of sing-along. There is a definite Amon Duul/Popol Vuh communal rhythm going on here, with the occasional missed beat shifting the beat’s direction momentarily. Perhaps inspiration struck late, because nearing the end of this first side, a solemn, Tortoise/Durutti Column type riff emerges in a chorusy haze, a fine addition entirely re-coloring the remaining revelry in darker hues as a bout of whistling flushes the rest of the band away in a steady wane. Side B, aka ‘4.13.06’, begins with a crunchy, Out Hud style trip hop beat and wordless female-sung scales, sounding as if processed through a busted sequencer or maybe replayed through a mono tape deck. I’ve got this down too low. There’s a male voice in there as well, making for a sort of wrath call and response thing going on. The drums break formation, getting a little crazy on the fills, and the jangle of a something resembling a guitar miked at the strings and not the pick-ups joins the rhythm, a clattery jiggle further conflating this with Out Hud and the !!!. The recording on this side is less clear, and despite the additional players, the result is one track of vocals and one track of clackaclacka which is actually quite enjoyable. Think Pocahaunted with a drummer. A number of odd instruments emerge in the last few minutes – something like a ukulele, possibly a harp, and piano and some definite knob spinning – but the mantra has already been established by the core components and the dominate drummer, hinting that the band is warming up for a new piece, off camera, shrouded by the drummer’s finale cymbal rolls. Sorry – Burst is a tough act to follow. Transparent red cassettes are hand-written with a full-color paper sleeve sewn with thread to create a little pocket. (L’animaux Tryst (Field) Recordings CDr, $8 HERE; cassette, SOLD OUT – try some distros: Tomentosa or Time-Lag, maybe?)

A new one from 777 was 666:

777-016 Filthy Social Club - 'Astral Turd' C23 ¥1000 (appx. $9US)
"Filthy Social Club is a collaboration project of UK drone/noise veteran Neil Campbell and shamanic hoo-hah man Darren Wyngarde aka Filthy Turd. Lots of hollering and some stupid rhythms. Psychodelic reggae vibe." Ltd.100

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This little tape has been hanging out for a while, not getting in the way really, but always present with its handsome green artwork and ruby innards. I like tapes. The Two-Year Curse is the work of Fred Avila, also the proprietor of Santa Cruz, California’s Blastbeats For Freedom. D/A A/D is Canadian Alex Pearson. Together they share the shit out of this C10, contributing three and four songs apiece as a fine sampling of their “chops”. Avila, as The Two-Year Curse, first presents “Slapstick” (his side dedicated to Kurt Vonnegut, plus EE Cummings), an excited little piece with gabber bass throb and wet, fast feedback bursts. A limp cymbal slap switches tracks to “Statues (133)”: percussionless, the feedback has grown drier, sharper; death/grind vocals bark imperceptibly nasty things as the back drop flexes like sheet-metal. A double-bass and ax shredding attack accompanies the return of metal vocals on the brief coda “Sheath Before Sheath (90)”, then free-form drumming and feedback jazz “Camelopardalis”. In general an interesting amalgam of aggressive vocals, live drumming, and mid-range, almost conservative noise figures. The work of D/A A/D is, by contrast, much more mechanical and methodical, heavily reminiscent the recent work of Bastard Noise, Pulse Emitter, and other science fiction heads. “Bloody Thumb Print” is a spare atmosphere of mild feedback, warm bass notes, and a really smooth whale song made of organ, totally defying the following track “Fuck YES!”, a brief transition of fuller noise grumbles which fill the channel from floor to ceiling. Pearson’s last track “Crush You, Crush Me” continues in this Machinefabriek fashion, with clean, discrete repetitions and not-necessarily-instrumental instrumentation. Translucent red cassettes come with a heavy, full-color J-card, hand-numbered to 60 copies. (Blastbeats For Freedom cassette, $4 HERE)

Graduating swiftly from the late, great ‘Stone Academy’ (vinyl by Root Strata, CD by Digitalis), Zelienople release their follow-up LP ‘His/Hers’ on the UK label Type (who, to give you a sense, have also released mini works from Tarentel, Grouper, Benoit Pioulard, and an LP by Brad Rose’s project The North Sea). With feet equally planted in the fields of Japanese post-rock (Boris, Mono) and the gamut of fin de siècle, instrumental-friendly US rosters (including, but not limited to, Drag City, Touch and Go, Kranky, Merge/Matador), the Chicago trio pare-down their focus to five tightly-huddled tracks of elongated notes and heavy reverb; guitars wash over in a swarming drone and lyrics are delivered in a ghostly breath, which when taken with the music appears entirely like the work of ODAWAS, and in turn, a most experimental Neil Young. Psychedelic slow-core. “Family Beast” bleeds out as a thumb-picked soundtrack, the barest of words hardly emerging past sawed guitars and bright, pointed notes scattered over the hum. There is no discernable dynamic shift between tracks only gentle melodic alterations, and with the exception of this first, seven minute track, each song burns approximately nine minutes, far exceeding the simple melodic themes introduced and abstracting a greater, more visceral vibration from it. “Moss Man” is a heavier depression than Blackheart Procession’s ‘2’, a lament baked under thick effects then broken under a swell of cymbal clatter and a mounting wall of skree guitar screed; this same fervor opens “Forced March”, a tidal fuzz slowly metered by the metronome ding of a plucked high-note. At last, the barely-there “Sweet Ali” floats with zero percussion to ground it, a patient guitar and voice to rival Tom Carter’s ‘Monument’ and other large works. Perhaps less narrative than their preceding story, ‘His/Hers’ lives more as an exercise in atmosphere and transcendence, expanding details to a new level of conscious. Metallic-printed cover art presents a haunted portrait further eaten-away by some organic pattern of time. (Type CD/LP, $16/£11 HERE)

Arbor has taken off his shirt:

arbor19 Binges - 'Return To Whatever' CDr $6
"Binges are a hometown favorite here in Chicago. Up until this point their music has existed to the public in one form: the live set. For the benefit of those outside of Chicago, the duo, comprised of drummer Chris Robert and guitar/bass/drum/mic/tape dude Anthonyy Decanini, recently teamed up with Midwestern Raccoo-oo-oon to cover the west coast with their syncopated improvisations. It is only fitting that their first release be made up of live material(recorded to DAT tape and mastered with the utmost care). Decanini creates a vast number of growing and receding loops from his guitar, bass, contact mic, tapes, and other sources which act as the perfect foil to Robert's percussion(a serious thing to behold). It isn't so much one person acting as the leader as much as the two creating an absolute sonic union of sounds blurring the line between free jazz and noise." In an edition of 200 screened CDRs in screened sleeves.

arbor22 Watersports with Aaron Rosenblum - 'More' C20 $7
"If a tape should ever be described using the word "submerged" it is this one. Watersports is the Brooklyn duo of Russ Waterhouse and Lea Cho, who in the same configuration also make up Blues Control. The A side begins with "submerged" bubble sounds mastered from the inside of an aquarium. The serene scene ebbs and flows until shimmering keyboards pierce the murk like sun into the blimey deep. On the B side the duo is joined by Aaron Rosenblum of Son Of Earth/Sapat. This track is keyboard heavy from the start with what seems like all three of the players weaving sounds through each others keyboarding. A glorious and shimmering overtone blurs reality. Howling flutes act as sea creatures in crisis. If you put the shell up to your ear and concentrate you can hear Rosenblum totally shredding." In an edition of 100 numbered tapes in oversized double sided collaged tape cases.

arbor41 Warmth LP $13
"Even though Warmth main man Steev Thompson still appears to be incommunicado totally epic recordings continue to surface. Before Roxanne Jean Police was officially over and Steev still lived in Chicago, he joined up with another then Chicago resident Branden Diven of Quilts/American Grizzly Records. The jams that were created filled a couple of cdrs and the Warmth side of the split with Quintana Roo on Not Not Fun. This LP consists of a remixed and edited version of the original cdr running at just under 45 minutes. Forgotten smog floats through a Northside basement. Sounds emanate but their source is totally unrecognizable. Quiet growing tonal blobs erupt into washes of aural color. A complete union of samplers, synths, vocals, guitar, organs, percussion, and electronics merge to create the sounds contained within; a loss of individual existence. Completely serene." In an edition of 300 LPs on creamy yellow vinyl with hand stamped labels in pro-printed and screened fold over sleeves with art by Roy Tatum and an insert by Steev.

arbor51 Treetops/Cygnus split C20 $6
"At it's purest, recorded music is two things: basements and one track recorders. Treetops and Cygnus are a complimentary pair of basement sludge psychers armed with little more than a few effect pedals(no distortion?!). The Treetops track is a grower and coming in at just under 10 minutes one of the longer Treetops jams to date. Light guitar strumming, tape manipulations and the occasional incantation are the sole sources for "Wild Beauty". Sky bound riffs float through the storm clouds. This track is a companion piece to the upcoming Ecstatic Peace tape, "In The Vanilla Grove/ Man and Horse". Cygnus is the guitar/keyboard duo of Heath Moerland(Sick Llama/Fag Tapes) and his friend Glen. Heath and Glen use slow flanged strumming and haunted house keyboards all progressing at a slow-ed down pace. The second track starts out with some fuzzed heavy riffage and keyboard overload while progressively deconstructing itself to two guitars; a totally zoned out "I forgot we we're recording" style gem. Much more chill then their previous blown out shred fests." In a numbered edition of 100 sprayed/stamped tapes in red youth stickered poly cases.

arbor57 Evan Miller/Gown split C20 $6
"The power is out. The power is back. This tape juxtaposes two expert guitarists against each other on the natural A/B boundaries of the cassette medium. Iowa's own Evan Miller creates long drifting ragas (or as he like to call them, spells) of acoustic guitar work akin to contemporaries such as Fahey and Rose, but strays from their "minstrel in the country" vibe and going more towards "a fisherman on the wharf" style. Even though there are no words, the emotion and story of his songs are obvious. "Specter" was recorded during a storm adding an ominous atmospheric quality to the meandering spell. On the flip side, Gown creates sky high electric guitar drones similar to his work in Bark Haze, but his presence in the solo setting adds a particularly nice clarity to his work; much less of an overload leaving more time to really soak into the jam. "Pigeon Church" is one of his first recordings since leaving his internship at Ecstatic Peace and moving up to rural Maccan, Nova Scotia." In a numbered edition of 100 tapes in 3 color silkscreened sleeves with tape labels and an insert.

Arbor T-shirt $7
"Three weeks of my summer was spent in New York at a printmaking class. Chilling in the park, going to almost weekly GHQ shows, and printing among other things, these Arbor T-Shirts. In an edition of twenty available in size MEDIUM (a few smalls are available too) on a variety of colors(email if you have size/color preference and I'll let you know what I have available)."

pictures and ordering info HERE

Sometime before this disc arrived at my door, Trevor Pennsylvania of New Brunswick, NJ’s DIHD and Human Adult Band sent over a small blurb on the album. I saved it, or at least believe I did, yet cannot now find it. Luckily, the DIHD website is finally in working order, and you may now know what I know. ‘Myl itt lepiec eofh eaven’ is the band’s second “retrospective” collection, “about 15 songs” (there are 19 tracks, but who can say which are songs) from the last 3 years, peeled from out of print releases plus “at least 7” unreleased tracks. But here’s what you don’t know: the band’s garage rock sludge owes as much to The Melvins as they do Silver Apples and Comus; they’re guitar strum and 4/4 chops recall the modern psychedelia of Sic Alps, further likened by their creatively coarse recording techniques (or lack thereof). Opener “Teenage Parking Lot” may be their official anthem, lurking along where eagles dare at a pace retarded by urban sprawl, PA’s voice a post-puberty bark scaring up some guitar licks from behind the heavy scum of the rhythm section. The simple, three-chord propulsion of “Red Cent” is a necessary relief from the relentless unrelenting of the Human Adult Band glower; scrappy, over-blown experiment like “Samanther”, “Hot Hands”, and “Deep South” add further dimension to the band’s menace, striating the disc’s 64 minutes with marked variety. Originating from an assortment of releases with an assortment of meta-themes, several tracks eschew the inevitable pretension of maturity; songs like “Easton Ave Laundromat” - the consummate “B-side” – exists surely as an inside joke, dedicated to only the most regular of Court Tavern attendees. It seems the entirety of the ‘Are We Sleeping?’ CDr is included, and now making so much more sense in the scope of their tangential releases. My greatest regret is the muddy color of slow-burner “Skeltons”: difficult to read beneath all the tape noise, there is definitely some miraculous guitar-work down there; a winding snake charming its master, he moans with brutish frustration. Tribal beats and sort-of ironic hippie-babble appear scattered throughout, Gang Gang Dance-style audio snippets which explain where the band is coming from and what they’re smirking at. This handsomely labeled CDr comes with a colorful, hand-assembled paper sleeve and little more than a track-list. Mine included a laminated flier for a New Brunswick show with The USAISAMONSTER, which coupled with a Bull Tongue mention means a sign of the times that these guys rule the land of Johnson. That is, besides Johnson. & Johnson. (DIHD CDr, $5 HERE)

The FIRST RELEASE! from Goaty Tapes:

Robedoor - 'Hopeless Transformation' C27 cassette $6.5
"There is an after-the-fact. There is a time when the sinner, pulled from his excited frame reflects on his sin. As he runs, his adrenalin dissolves and panic and fear ensue. His skin blisters and bursts, like gurgling bubbles of distortion and his feet callous and crack like hissing waves of shattering feedback. Even more repulsive are the undulations of remorse that form an undercurrent, a wash of pulsing despair. This throb retracts from the sinner's will to escape both prosecution and his own resignation and inevitably send him staggering downward in a jolting, yet consistent dance of decay. Such is the quality of Robedoor's aural explorations. The sounds neither brandish terror nor reflect innocent despair, but dig deeper, unearthing a frontier where the bad fear worse. Where sinners hopelessly decline." Hand-cut labels with hand-stamped, cut, and numbered inserts. Edition of 99

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Bri White and James Fella are an item. This split 7” on Fella’s Arizona-based Gilgongo Records, however, is foremost an artistic consummation. Each side was recorded separately by each artist, and less one suspects some hanky-panky in the process, we are assured that White lives all the way up in rainy Portland, Oregon, while Fella is stranded in Tempe were there is no water (and he therefore should be dead). This split is no mere love note written on marbled blue vinyl with printed labels and a heavy, full-color sleeve. No, these are two well-founded, untitled, and wildly disparate tracks: White’s guitar picks out a waltz of giddy notes, muttered verses divided by a brassy discord created with a borrowed something called the “pianolin”. Her effortless voice reminiscent Nina Natasha, the song speaks a cool rationale despite an arcade of reckless instruments. Fella, who regularly impresses as a member of avant-gardeners Tent City, contributes an instrumental side with a mulit-tracked clarinet/flute overture which you wish could last forever; slowly emerging is a Chasny wheedle-strum and hum melting behind a rising tide of brilliant radio scrabble making you wish the couple indulged (us) a little more and added three inches.

The record is accompanied by several layers of romance, pliable at the listener’s discretion. From the nebulous blue painting on the front cover, who knows what to expect (perchance an adult-contempo Jetta commercial by the Album Leaf?). By the candid photograph of the lovers on the back, one may discern some sense of camaraderie between the otherwise exiled buddies. And then through even a most superficial read of the record’s two liner notes, we discover that the two artists are indeed madly in love, and they are trying to rot your teeth with it (in addition, Fella throws in a complimentary headache with his unconscionable 5-point font).* Fella points out in his notes that White thinks his side is better. It is, slightly, but ultimately this is an issue of taste, and Fella is a real dick to include this aside in a transparent show of false modesty. The record remains, however, very recommended. (Gilgongo 7”, $5 HERE)

*Even with a great equilibrium, I suggest you back off from this final step if you’re prone to barf at gooshiness.**

** Footnotes are back!

Endless Summer this is not: a trainwreck in the best sense of the word, ‘Endless Coast’ is the collaboration of Portland legends Smegma and Norway’s Jazkamer. Recorded on a fall 2006 US tour, the disc includes special guest and hanger-on Carlos Giffoni, rough and tumble boss of No Fun. Five tracks of vintage psych-noise begin with the 12 minute “Heavy Fog”, a loose room of electronics and tweeters, tribal-jazz percussion, sampled horns; what begins maybe three men wide expands to the entire cast of eight, with more layers entering than leaving. Marked by the heavy plumb of Giffoni’s bass, the meter of the thing dissolves into a swirling crest of feedback, the sound comparable to several, but accredited here, to the creators. The clattering headway of “White Witch” gives way with little resistance to expository poetry of feedback and manipulated vocals, mechanical repetitions beating with a decrepit, metal machine fetish nurtured through the following track “Portland Swamps”. Were Giffoni not affiliated (and probably even then), this could easily have been a Blossoming Noise release, illustrated by the leisurely camp of “Stone Eater”, all grumbling and cross-wired electronics. As far as impressionism goes, the many allusions to natural, pre-modern phenomena are, sadly, lost in all the heavy technology. However, in the telling of tales, there is something to be said about the technique, rethinking psychedelia through a contemporary - albeit simultaneous - sound. Lest you’ve found yourself in a stupor, the group saves the best for last, playing “Carniviorous Bog” [sic] to a live room, with walls of radio babble enclosing frenetic, scattered percussion, a mounting of horns, and an approximation of free-surf guitar under the blue light of a synthesizer. Defying either band’s standard bombast and with similarities to the current (as ever) works by other lifers like AMM, Tom Smith, that UBIUIBI crew, etc., ‘Endless Coast’ reflects a history of experimentation and experience. CD comes in a beautiful, heavy-bound gatefold with abstract artwork by Smegma’s Ju Suk Reet Meate. (No Fun CD, $12 HERE)

Here is a pair of 3” CDrs from Akoustic Desease, a young Italian label with a fantastic approach to the English language. Both artists also appear alongside Seht, Valerio Cosi, (VxPxC), Alligator Crystal Moth and more on the label's wonderful 'Trees in the Attics' compilation, a summery tribute to Austrian artist Friedensreich Hundertwasser. But look here now:

Two pieces make ‘Faded on the Blowing of Winter’ by Fabio Orsi. Both simple, 10 minute drone meditations, the first builds upon layers: repeating layers of dull bass drone enhanced with a few taps of wooded percussion, loops of bells or guitar notes bent like bells weaving between the beats, a high harmonium note. The lot drops off as an overwhelming organ drone sears through, carrying layers of its own. The second track is made of warmer bits, drones like synthesized strings and extended passages of guitar recalling the first long-player by Growing. Besides Orsi’s own fame, further comparisons can be drawn to the works of Seht, Flying Saucer Attack, and Labradford for atmosphere and intense sense of depth. White label/red-black bottom CDr comes in a hand-made gatefold of heavy paper and color photography, very nicely done. Limited to 212.

In contrast to Orsi’s minimalism, ‘After Dinner Black Out’, the debut of Italian musician Donato Epiro, is a nearly 20 minute experiment in sound collage. A single track, the composition is made of several pieces of music and found sound, each cut to a reasonable length of no shorter than 30 seconds and up to five minutes. Like Ferrari’s compositional musique concrète, the sounds are intimately related, though not necessarily by timbre, tone, or anything else apparent to the unacquainted listener. All sounds are pleasant and clear as they are made to stand alone, satisfying merely by their presence. Water drips and a woman gasps with excitement. A cello squeaks with curiosity. Drum sticks prattle over a kit in free form. An overpowering by excerpted musical passages takes hold, and before mid-track a song seems wont to break out, the elements aligned in a coup against the lack of structure. However, this dissipates as quickly as it formed, the author denying our basest desires to hear a familiar rhythm. The sweeps of viola which end the piece signal a mature, studied chaos, a meticulous sequencing and pacing which fulfills music by defying it. CDr comes tabbed in a handmade folder of heavy paper with color art, hand-numbered to 106. (Akoustic Desease 3” CDr, 6 € (EU)/8 € (World) HERE)

During Animal Psi’s not too-recent cross-country move via the southwestern United States, I made sure to keep Jacob Smigel’s ‘New Mexico’ nearby, anticipating the rare opportunity to enjoy this ode to the state while actually experiencing it first hand. While my vantage speeding on interstate freeways and through urban hubs, and the bizarre presence of a Snyder’s of Hanover (Pennsylvania) pretzel factory in the middle of the desert [Is that legal? Did they annex this land as Hanover to keep it legit?] disallowed the rural, haunted vision which Smigel portrays, the storied weight of “The Land of Enchantment” was not lost in its hillside motifs and unique high-desert, and all the possibilities which lay not far beyond. Smigel begins his tribute with a tribute, “New Mexico”, a giddy acoustic plea to the xeriscape flushed with bells and drum kit, in effect a forward to the storybook of this album including summary of each chapter-like track, and introducing his cast of outdoors friends. Following track “Santa Maria De La Cabeza” starts with some plundered flute music, flamenco, and a pre-recorded welcome to the state - the latter’s constipated bourgeois fulfilling this collage of imperial defeat, postured before a young Smigel compatriot reads from a book on the Spanish civil war over a guitar interlude – a peculiar reflection. Breaking with the theme in the slightest, Smigel also includes more general stories of youthful outings and relationships, songs like “Let Me See If This Be Real” - a lonely, cloudy guitar song with watery field recordings implying a day at the lake, secluded in nature – and the Hidden Cameras-like “Mandarin Oranges”, the recording burnt in a red dusk. Longest track and centerpiece “The Pack Rat that Died Twice” is presented as a classic radio show, read/told entirely by Smigel, complete with sound effects and interludes. Revolving around a supernatural encounter with an indigenous animal, the true story complicates the character of Smigel the songwriter as woodsman, explorer, and interloper. Despite the crass barbarism and unprecedented inclusion of Smigel’s tale, the man’s style is so frequently that a break of such non-musical nature works well in the multi-faceted story-telling of the album. The introspective critique of the story, as well as the subsequent song “Broken Record”, tackles the problems and persistence of memory - the telling, elongating, lightening and aggrandizing of individual stories – and the bittersweet bliss of reconciling one’s limits. Leaving the obscurity of “Campfire Instrumental”, the disc soars into its final three tracks with the restrained, up-tempo “Half-imagined World” – a sort of goodbye to the modern/youthful world, and into the aged/classic ballad “Funeral of Enkidu” with its evocative words carried by sweeping drums and electric guitar textures. The album ends with Smigel’s sole recorded cover, the country song “If You Can Touch Her At All”: a warm, emotional lament, the song’s ambiguous use nicely concludes the album’s romance with people and place. Out-doing the packaging job of his previous ‘Eavesdrop’, Smigel nests this CD (the real kind) in an air-brushed digipak with plastic sleeve, inside a detailed booklet containing several pages of text, lyrics, and appendices. Edition of 500 copies. Recommended. (self-released CD, $12 HERE)

Something of a collective, Las Vegas Club centers mostly on guitarist/song-writer/Jacob’s friend Joe Kendall, with a loose cast of well-wishers and Smigel taking a subordinate role, mainly on drums. Newest full-length ‘In Gods We Trust’ is a collection of folksy, acoustic-based songs livened by chimes, choirs, and multi-tracked guitars weaving a dizzy, hazy spell. The disc holds an undeniable similarity to the (mostly) instrumental Unwed Sailor, particularly the simple-brilliance of ‘The Marionette and the Music Box’, built around similar revolving musical themes while casually ambling toward some fading sun. Even when the taut rolls of Smigel’s drumming are absent, the rousing left-right of Kendall’s guitar leads the child’s march of opener “The March of baby Jesus”, with flourishing fiddle and multi-part chorus; a salty segue inviting a break with the Twain-by-instrumental tale “The Fishhook of Hoori”, the eastern roots of the story mingling as a bell-piano with plucked guitar. The slow build of “Breadfruit & Betel Nuts” mimics that of Mogwai with an acoustic fetish, actually realized as Jim O’Rourke’s ‘Bad Timing’; at 4 ½ minutes, the song is one of the album’s longest, though ultimately one segment of a tightly-knit 15 tracks. A surprising, yet in no way displeasing electric guitar shreds through the acoustic bounce and scuttling drums in the back of “The Throne of Badbag B. De”, gong and timpani percussion deepen the mystery of “The Iron Hooves (of Iempos Moose)” - a tribal lullaby meshing cuddly guitar with primal screams – and the addition of natural sounds to much of the latter songs help variegate the comfortable space so inseparable from the style. Though the hints are obvious enough, it isn’t until track 9 or 10 that I realize this disc is a tribute to so many gods (as the title implies), filtering the world’s popular spiritualisms through a more or less neutral medium of western guitar music. CDr comes in an arigato pak with paste-on labels, handwritten title, and a Xeroxed insert. Edition of 200 copies. More recommended. (self-released CDr, $10 HERE)

New friends from Denmark, A Beard of Snails:

abos117 - Vlubä - '7op' CDr 6€(EU)/$7(World)
"New far out exaltations from this Buenos-Aires-by-way-of-the-Moon cult combo. ”7op” is about shamanistic space-rock jams and flanged free psychedelia, garnished with savage drumming and noisy toys. Comes in an elaborate fake fur clad cover in a poly bag. Limited edition of 75." BAND

abos118 - Inhibitionists & Rough Ride of Crafts - 'Wendigo in the Church of Merriment' CDr 6€(EU)/$7(World)
"The once-again-solo Inhibitionists outfit spent roughly a year in long distance collaboration with the Rough Ride of Crafts collective, resulting in a spooky, offbeat mish mash of lo-fi noise, stoner electronics, tape collages, pseudo hip hop and acid folk-fueled semi-songs. This semi-concept album is packaged in a nifty handmade cardboard picture cover." Limited edition of 50. BAND

abos114 - Die Stadt Der Romantische Punk - 'The Guitar E.P.' CDr 6€(EU)/$7(World)
"DSDRP is Jukka Reverberi of Giardini di Miro fame, and his ”Guitar E.P.” is, in our opinion, a 31 minute album. An album of minimalist tenderness, explosive rumbling noises, and tripped out basement aesthetics, brought on by, yes, effect-laden guitars (and bits of sweet violin.) The clear-labeled CD-R comes in a handmade digipak-esque paint sprayed cover, with a glossy front cover photo." Limited edition of 50. BAND

abos111 - Stormhat - 'Hypnagogia' CDr 6€(EU)/$7(World)
"This 45-minute trip through Stormhat's garden of earthly delights presents pre-dream dreamscapes channelling avant-composition, utilizing field recordings, bizarre percussion, and a laptop (do not be afraid.) Rough and forboding, calm and meditative, in all its intricate beauty. Packaged in a handmade digipak-esque cover, with glossy front and back cover photos." Limited edition of 100. BAND

WEBSITE and ORDER

Ryan LaLiberty is from New Hampshire [I’m serious!] and he records under the name of the most post-rock X-man, Colossus. Ryan also really likes Growing. ‘Aria’ is his newest full-length disc. The man calls it “New England drone”, and not that I think he’s attempting to carve a peculiar niche but rather just wants us to have a general idea of where he lives, I think he’s selling himself a bit short by stopping at “drone”. Ulitmately it’s drone, but it’s also much more – more variegated, more expressive. Start: “Verda” is a piece of stuttering, chorused guitar minimalism identical to recent Growing, and by logical extension, mid-career Black Dice; it’s good, and very capable, but by this mimetically lacking in its extreme similarity. “Moteahs” backs away toward the communal drone/natural pot, employing bright guitar drones blanketing feedback pitches and a faint, plunger percussion; alternately, “Molava” is a darker piece of similar components, psychedelic synthesizer like a calliope swinging near and far in the dusky haze. Things really get good when the knobs are turned clockwise for “Soncata”, “The Dread”, and “Reminiscience” [sic], a drone trilogy at full-gait, blasting from the prelude and full of storied chaos like a Hototogisu at half the frequency, with the final couplet built from gentle drones and whispered embellishment, an appallingly tasteful display of restraint. Stamped CDr comes in a full-color insert and heavy sleeve. Hand-numbered to 50 copies. Quite nice, thanks. (self-released CDr, $3 HERE. The guy’s practically giving it away - you’re a jerk if you don’t take one.)