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Psychedelic rock, with lots of cool fuzzy chords and spacey stuff mixed in, albeit with the lyrics being a bit poppy. This record released in 2013, but Photon Band has been around since 94, with long absences. Fronted by Art DiFuria. Many of the tracks have sections of quiet melody and mellow vocals, sandwiched between heavier guitar-laden psychedelia. Track 6, the instrumental Found in Space, leans into hippyland with analog electronics. My favorite: Track 12, Thought Crimes (Part 2), with lots of guitar wrangling, stands apart from the slightly poppy feeling of the rest of the tracks. Instrumentals: Went to the Space Bar, Found In Space, Soundings In Fathmos, But I Wanna Know, Thought Crimes Pt 2, Repose.
2014 vinyl release of a 2013 demo tape by this solo project of US hardcore scene vet Anthony Pasquarosa. It’s dark, eccentric space rock/heavy psych/punk. The most obvious influence (mentioned several times in the liner) might be Hawkwind, but I also maybe heard hints of Suicide, later Swans, The Velvet Underground (A3), Alien Sex Fiend (A4), Rudimentary Peni (B1) and Joy Division (B2) (some of these may have just been me, I don’t know). The recordings are extremely low-fi, and possibly use a drum machine. Vocals are usually effected and all instrumentation (guitar and keyboard mostly) is distorted. The thematic inspiration (ironic or not I don’t know) seems to come from new age spiritualities/conspiracy theories expounded by nitwits like Terence McKenna (sampled on A5) or David Icke, but with a perverse dystopian sci-fi twist that reminded me of Grant Morrison’s ‘The Invisibles.’ A1 is an intro sample about testicle harvesting or something. The second half of B2 is mostly guitar effects noise. The rest is repetitive, driving acid punk. Claustrophobic bad-trip jams here to remind you how small the universe really is. “Plant a seed, it’s time to grow outside of time…”
No, not a French band that forgot their full name, Les
Two side-long slabs from Omid, a hiphop producer from SoCal, that
Seattle trio (we’ve got Evening Meetings which was an
Monstrance: piece of Catholic ceremonial paraphernalia. This is ambient drone – minimal electronics, guitar, organ, metal percussion. Dark, ghostly, organic, unsettling yet varied.
Alternative track titles: (1) Sex dungeon intruder alarm (2) Howling wind and ocean spray (3) Zombie lab glass shards (4) Making coffins for dead songbirds (5) Night Watchman by the dock (6) Hatchlings in the abandoned incubator (7) Levitation sermon
Just played the Drid Machine lottery and picked 14 winners in a
And that’s one side, you could call it a day and be good but
8) robot with hiccups or Christian Marclay in two persons or maybe
This record is a good argument for broadcasting a Stavanger
Two and a bunny? Turner Bunny (as in Mike Turner who runs
Avant garde free jazz, which is to say, music for rolling in catnip. Melodic and tranquil meanderings, improvisational tension and turbulence. No drums but plenty of rhythm. Entirely instrumental.
Thollem McDonas (b. Palo Alto, SJSU alumnus) on piano, Skeeter CR Shelton on sax, Joel Peterson on bass.
Pretty much what the title says. On this 2013 CDr the Los Angeles duo bring you one hour-long track of industrial guitar drone interplay, buzzsaw static and factory noises; and I listened to it all of it for you. The first ten minutes of torture are a little percussive (though not necessarily rhythmic) and the last twenty or so are on the minimal side, but otherwise it’s grade-A straightforward harshness built from feedback, delay, metallic scraping and much gain. When both guitars are ‘droning’ it produces an impressively thorny wall of sound; elsewhere one guy ‘drones’ while the other plinks out mutated melodies on prepared strings (this happens more frequently during the second half). There are no easy listening moments, and it’s hard to get through the whole thing, but it’s certainly not mindless noise. I think either it was to some extent composed, or the two players have a really natural musical rapport. How long can your privilege protect you from the horrors of real life? How long until you, too, are dragged on asphalt?
A 23 minute EP of weird bedroom recordings. Everything performed by Mr. Long as I understand it. The foundation seems to be guitar, as there are lots of them coming in and out of the mix, balanced nicely with programmed beats, kitchen-utensil-style percussion, talking/mumbling, squiggling/squawking, and unexpected pockets of electronic strangeness. The music gets a bit guitar-riffy from time to time and that’s fun. It sounds as though he doesn’t know quite where he wants to go with this project but he doesn’t let that stop him from laying the stuff down. And he is creative, I’ll give him that. Worth an open-minded listen or two or three.
2010 three-way split 45 featuring east coast grindcore bands. Defeatist (A1-A2, B1-B2) are from NYC, Triac (A3-A4, B3-B4) are from Baltimore and Asra (A5-A7, B5-B7) are also New Yorkers. The three groups more or less share a vision (kinda complex, spastic grindcore), but each seems to have a specific area of interest within the genre. Defeatist are on the Crossover Thrash side with a bit of a Voetsek sound. Triac draw on Hardcore and Crust and end up sounding somewhat like Buried at Birth. Asra bring in more death metal, especially in the vocals department (there are pig squeals), for an early Brutal Truth sound. Each band has its moment here, but Triac emerge victorious to my ears, even if one of their tracks (B4) is a couple covers from Black Flag and The Cherubs. Guaranteed to turn any enclosed space into a circle pit.
Off! is Keith Morris, who has hosted his own punk station on Grand Theft Auto, and is joined by Stephen Shane McDonald, Dmitri Coats, and drummer Mario Rubalcaba. This punk band is known for its 90 second tunes, and in fact, all tracks on this album are only about 1-2 minutes each. One of the most scorching punk groups the modern world has seen in a decade. It’s complex and mind-boggling tracks that will blow you away, but beware of FCCs in the majority of this album.
Here we have a rare intersection of very accessible and very original jazz. Excellent work from Seattle guitarist Rik Wright and equally good sounds on reeds, bass and percussion. Melodic, a bit funky, often beautiful, it will have appeal to non-jazz fans as well
Violist and composer Bultmann is certainly virtuosic in his performances on this CD. The first 10 tracks are viola duets with Hunk Dutt; tracks 11-14 are duets with Stephen Kent on didjeridu; 15 is Bultmann on solo viola; and tracks 16-20 feature Parry Karp on solo cello. All the works are composed by classically trained Bultmann, whose music is both through-composed and improvised. This is a treat for sure.
This is a 2-disc release. The first disc is my favorite because of the harp, courtesy of Delphine Latil. She and Sonny Simmons (alto sax, cor anglais) wrote the music that they both perform. There are four medium-sized tracks and an ending one of 47:03. Disc 2 features Simmons and Thomas Bellier (electric guitar), so those of you who prefer different strings may prefer this CD. Again, the musicians composed the songs they perform. Definitely worthwhile endeavors.
Joe Grimm (better known as the Wind-Up Bird) is an interdisciplinary artist working mostly with light and sound, utilizing harmonics as the source and structural framework on which each sequence builds. There are no special electronics on these recordings, but instead humming sounds resulting from the acoustical interaction of ghostly voices, violins, horns, and ultimately the piano. “Brain Cloud III” was recorded live at Grant Hall in Providence, RI and done on three pianos, each played by three musicians. A great masterpiece!
Four guys from England: Paul Allen (guitar, vox, audio generator), H.O. Morgan (bass), Wayne Maskell (drums, sonic attack), and Simon Price (guitar vox). This is a live album from a July 2008 European tour with Wooden Shjips. This recording is from a night in Tilburg, Netherlands at a place called 013 Poppodium.
As I dropped the needle on the first side of this double LP, I could feel the room slowly filling with smoke as the psychedelic haze began. You can feel the energy of the live show, in the guitars mostly, the wailing lead, and the heavy riffage as it slowly turns into a more spaced out atmospheric experience. The last track is the entire D-Side “Spliff Riff,” and it cooks! What starts as an assault slowly mellows out, but the beat speeds up, moaning guitars, thumping drums, gutteral bass.. cool electronics at the end? Or is it feedback noise?
Sides A-C: 3 bowls, Side D: 3 bowls by itself.
FCC: At the very beginning of the B-Side, he says, “We’re The Heads, thanks and SHIT”
Trio under direction of thunderous rumble drummer William Hooker with David Soldier on violin, banjo and guitar and Roy Campbell on trumpet, pocket trumpet and flute. The instrumental interplay presents a classical/folky sort of aesthetic that hearkens to Ayleresque sort of traditions, with simple motifs of warm melodies played with a fiery spiritual fervor. Cerebral but not challenging, not shrieky sort of jazz but a more primordial, universal human feel to it. The cultural flavors range from Mesopotamia to Iberia, with a time-span about the same. Soldier really drives the spice with the different instrumentation, injecting Spanish influence on 5 with the fluttery flamenco guitar that draws out Campbell’s matador trumpet flair, or on 3 really driving that old-timey feel with banjo while still sitting comfortably in a jazz setting. Hooker’s tumult of ancient tribal drumming fills every ounce of space with rolls and rolls of tom thunder, maintaining a visceral raw energy while never blasting away. This definitely strays far beyond the conventions of most modern jazz, straight or not, and because of this, not despite, I think it could be accessible to all listeners, jazz or not.
Nutzz Recordzz brings us another tiny little disgusting phlegm of a gem: split release between Newtdick from Redwood City and Cat Shit from your litterbox. Cat Shit side don???t make no kinds of sense, featuring down on the farm Cowcore and a deflatable rubber ducky wake-up call. One solid fart rips the pants and releases one way-too-long broken signal grindfart. Ouch. The Newtdick side presents Hair-raising-heaviness-shit-Metal, like blobs of it bobbing around in a steel toilet tub, gurgling and blubbering and all. The vocals are far too flatulent to be intimidating and the riffage is too clean to be nasty, but I still call it goregrind, but if the gore was all shitstains on the back of your tight leather pants. Wake up and smell the roses sweety!
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