#Fantasy In Pipe Organ And Percussion

[tfc2211]

Georges Montalba [rumored to be Robert Hunter or Anton LaVey, head of the Church of Satan] at the Mighty Wurlitzer with Percussive Accompaniment. Recorded 1958.

Danse Macabre Mazurka From Masquerade March Fantasy In A Persian Market Theme From Scheherazade Ritual Fire Dance Polovtsian Dances

[prokopetz]

I think we need to take the “what if the conventional monster was friendly?” thing in fantasy worldbuilding further. “What if the dragon was friendly?” and “what if the orcs across the valley were friendly?” are well and good, but I’m thinking more like “what if the animated skeletons in the local graveyard were friendly?”

I think with the animated skeletons in particular the key is to play up their separation from the living in a way that’s still kinda creepy, but in an odd way rather than a horrific way. Something like:

Animated skeletons are explicitly not just skeleton versions of the living people their bones came from, and in fact don’t seem to have much in the way of individual identity – or, at least, if they do, they don’t express it in the way that humans do.  

They aren’t impaired by the loss of individual bones – including the skull! – and can freely swap bones among themselves. The same pile of loose bones won’t always animate into the same number or configuration of skeletons, nor does having more available bones necessarily translate into more skeletons.  

Consequently, questions like “how many skeletons are there?” are difficult to answer.  

Animated skeletons generally seem to understand both spoken and written languages, but don’t have much capacity for producing language; they don’t speak or write, and their capacity for signing is limited to stuff like nodding or shaking their head for “yes” or “no“, pointing to indicate objects or directions, etc.  

In spite of this, they appear to be able to communicate complex information and ideas amongst themselves, but it happens via some undetectable, (presumably) non-language-based medium.  

Their otherwise limited expressive capacity notwithstanding, skeleton “culture” (if that’s the word for it) is very big on making music. Instruments and sheet music are among the few material goods that skeletons value, though the former are typically limited to those that can be operated without breath.  

(This generally means percussion and strings. Wind instruments that can be operated without breath are an occasional feature; pipe organs are a big deal in those skeleton communities that can get their phalanges on them, as are a modified form of bagpipes, operated by two-skeleton teams where one plays the music and the other inflates the bag with a portable bellows.)  

Apart from music, skeletons are mostly into repetitive manual labour, though exclusively on a volunteer basis, as they’re uninterested in payment and will simply collapse into inanimate piles of bones if coerced. If you want a skeleton to do something for you, be prepared to explain why, in detail, to a silent, motionless, and expressionless audience.  

Skeletons are notably more likely to heed a request from a priest or religious scholar than from laypersons. There are a lot of theories as to why this is; the skeletons themselves are disinclined to comment.  

A skeleton with nothing better to do may squat like a gargoyle near some well-trafficked location and observe local goings-on, remaining motionless apart from turning its skull toward points of interest for days or weeks on end. It’s generally considered polite not to draw attention to their presence.

[antiquatedfuture]

Antiquated Future Holiday Newsletter Of Zine-Like Delights

First off: We just made our 2019 bestsellers list! (We love lists.) Of the over 600 different items in our shop, these are the 20 zines, 10 albums, 5 books, and 5 miscellany things that sold the most. In other news: We now have all our favorite calendars & planners in stock, we're having a temporary store-wide cassette sale (that also includes a decent handful of LPs and CDs, as well), a zine sale on select titles, and we're restocking things every single day. In terms of holiday stuff: We'll be sending orders most days until December 23rd. We'll also be tabling here in Portland, Oregon at Publication Fair on December 22nd, for all your last-minute gift needs. And, if you can, please support the many fine brick and mortar stores that sell Antiquated Future goods. Oh, also: we just celebrated our 11-year anniversary! Thanks (as always) for supporting what we do and making it possible to continue this long. We're so grateful.

NEW ZINES Cat Party #2- Essays and comics about cats. Highlight: a wild, long-form fairytale cat comic from Dame Darcy of MeatCake fame! ($3) Cat Party #3: The Collectible Cat- An entire Cat Party issue about cat collectibles. TV lamps, cross-stich samplers, bone-China mugs, and the stories behind their existence. ($3) Country Songs For Driverless Trucks- A second short collection of short poems from Murder City Devils' frontman Spencer Moody. Playful, silly, occasionally gruesome. ($5) Delicate Pipes- A distilled personal history of digestive issues. Coming at the material from a variety of different approaches and interspersing collage work, Delicate Pipes is part personal zine, part art object. ($7)

DRIVEL #1- It's finally here: the new zine from our all-time best-selling zinester, Gina Sarti! Welcome to DRIVEL, her new zine series, an old-school variety zine in all its glory ($5) Eulalia #2- A gorgeous little zine dedicated to friends dealing with grief and to a late great cat. Words and images in tribute, in support, in mourning. ($5) Lullaby for the Drowned- A heartfelt, compact zine from Jonas (Fixer Eraser, We the Drowned, a million other great zine series). ($1)

Mugs- A mug-shaped zine about mugs called, simply, Mugs. Collecting them, loving them, stories about them. ($4) Pro Wrestling Feelings #7- The latest issue of everyone's favorite wrestling zine. A cool deep-dive for wrestling fans and a curious peek into a very specific subculture for everyone else. Comes with two wrestling DVDs! ($10)

Radical Domesticity Zine Gift Pack- All current issues of the ever-lovable Radical Domesticity, wrapped up and stuffed full of extras. Comes with a handmade card, a double-sided fortune teller. Nicely wrapped, tied with a bow. ($20) Self-Guide- An illustrated series of "ten guiding principles" from Portland zinester and comic artist Michelle Zellers. Inspiring, useful, aesthetically pleasing. ($4) Shared Sentiments- A visually lovely, simple, straightforward zine that brings a lot of joy. The perfect little gift for the person in your life who likes perfect little things. ($4) Terrestrial Invaders- A series of encyclopedic entries written as though insects are constantly at war with humans. So good and weird and fun. ($1.50) What's a Per-Zyne?- An introduction to the personal zine (by way of a big box, full of zines, opened decades ago). ($1)

NEW CALENDARS & PLANNERS

2020 Famous Faces Calendar- Paintings of legends from across the musical map: soul to country, garage rock to jazz, surf to folk revival, and beyond. From Shana "Crawdad" Cleveland, from La Luz and Shana Cleveland & The Sandcastles. ($8) 2020 Justseeds & Eberhardt Press Organizer- A stunning planner, unlike any other. Each month features a full-color, politically-minded spread from a different Justseeds artist. (Pocket & Planner-Size) ($15 & $18) 2020 Lunar Phase Calendar Poster- The lunar phases among night-blooming flowers. ($18)

NEW STICKERS Cat In Mirror Sticker- Some mirror time. For all self-appreciation states and existential crises. ($1) Deth P. Sun Sticker Pack- Five stickers from comic artist extraordinaire Deth P. Sun, detailing the adventures of a cat-like creature traversing fantasy realms. ($4) I See It All Surfer Cat Sticker- Good eyes, on a surfboard. ($1) Pumpkin Patch Sticker- Cute ghosts, black cat, pumpkin patch. ($1)

NEW POSTCARDS Home is a Feeling Postcard- The feeling of home. Perfect for all wanderers. From letterpress artist Hope Amico. ($3) Keep Writing Postcard Pack- An assortment of postcards from letterpress artist Hope Amico and her long-running Keep Writing postcard project. Get yourself a pack of five or a pack of ten. You won't regret it. (5 for $10, 10 for $20) What Have You Got To Lose Postcard- A handsome letterpressed tooth. ($3) You Are Your Only Critic Postcard- An ever-important letterpressed reminder. ($3)

NEW BOOKS All Friends Are Necessary- A new novella from Tomas Moniz, one of our all-time favorite writers. ($12) NEW MISCELLANY Raven Notepad- A raven, looking cool and spooky. On a notepad. ($4) Zine Fest Bingo- One perforated sheet of four bingo cards to play during those long days at zine fests and events. A lot of fun for those who love zine culture. ($2)

NEW MUSIC Adam Lipman- The Slouch- An absolute gem of low-key indie rock. A casual croon over warm tones, a rhythm section moseying sweetly along, feeling good. Musical contributions from David-Ivar Herman Düne and Franklin Bruno (Nothing Painted Blue, The Extra Lens). (cassette tape) ($8) Failed Flowers- Faces- Led by Anna Burch and Fred Thomas (Saturday Looks Good to Me, City Center), Failed Flowers is an overlooked supergroup of power-pop perfection. Released on Slumberland, as part of their 30th anniversary seven-inch series. (7" + digital download) ($8) Half Shadow- Dream Weather Its Electric Song- Long one of Portland's best kept secrets, Half Shadow makes dream narratives into softly psychedelic minimalist dark-folk anthems. (LP or cassette tape) ($8 & $15)

Haunted & Comme À La Radio- Split LP- A split LP of "not noise, not music, not poetry" from Haunted and Comme À La Radio, two artists pushing boundaries. Spoken word cut-up broken-sound collage. (LP) ($20) Lisa Schonberg- UAU: Music for Percussion- From ace percussionist Lisa Schonberg (Secret Drum Band, Kickball, Explode Into Colors) comes a song cycle made at "the intersection of art, ecology, entomology, and bioacoustics." (CD) ($7) Strange Parts & Ogikubo Station- Split Tape- A split between psych-poppers Strange Parts and punky power-pop band Ogikubo Station (Mike Park of Asian Man Records and Maura Weaver of Boys). (cassette + digital download) ($8) Various Artists- Dreamlife: A Summer Mixtape to Benefit Womanly Mag- A benefit compilation full of gifts: synth-pop, bedroom-folk, post-punk, hip-hop, electro-pop, and many things in between. (cassette + digital download) ($8)

NEWS *In addition to the wonderful novella above, Tomas Moniz just released his first full-length novel, Big Familia, on University of Chicago Press. *For all you zine readers and creators who have opinions: Quimby's Books zine queen Liz Mason is conducting a zine survey, as part of a bigger project. Make your voice a part of it!

*On January 2nd, we’ll be kicking off a new series at Powell’s City of Books called First Word. We’ll be curating a night of readings and music in the biggest indie bookstore in the world! Very exciting. Free and open to the public. See you there. Until next year, Antiquated Future

[jefferyryanlong]

Fresh Listen - Lovehandles, Seafoam on Speakerphone (2010) 

(Some pieces of recorded music operate more like organisms than records. They live, they breathe, they reproduce. Fresh Listen is a periodic review of recently and not-so-recently released albums that crawl among us like radioactive spiders, gifting us with superpowers from their stingers.)

Sometimes the best songs say less about the convictions of the singer, and more about the secret wish that burns in the singer’s heart.

I think of Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s a Gonna Fall.” If you pierce through the trappings of the hoary soothsayer, the prophecy he raps, and yodels for emphasis, is meant to be instructive, not necessarily foretold. “I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it”; “I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it”; “I saw a roomful of men with their hammers a-bleedin’.” Throughout the song, you can hear the naked hope that events might lead to a more promising outcome if we pay attention, apply the symbology to the reality. “Hard Rain” is a warning, but it isn’t meant as a death sentence.

You can hear the same wish in the first track of Lovehandles’s first and only collection of songs arranged as a full-length record, Seafoam on Speakerphone. Under the auspices of his musical alter-ego, Tommy Yasuhara sings, on “Do What’s Natural,” “if you hold my hand you’ll understand / it’s all part of a plan.” At first listen, it may seem that Tommy is attributing the mostly misremembered episodes of a life to a predestined narrative conceived by a higher power. As a songwriter, though, Tommy is too interested in the ambiguity of existence to propose thoughtlessly surrendering to ideology. “Do What’s Natural” is surely a leap of faith, but, in very elemental terms, it simply illustrates the minor miracles inherent in living: fresh fruit flesh, hot cocoa in a warm room while the snow builds up on the windowpane. What’s important is that conscious action is required of us—the exercise of agency—to complement any experience. To live requires participation, not surrender.

“Do What’s Natural” initiates a kind of sonic continuity on Seafoam on Speakerphone. Reminiscent of Smog’s A River Ain’t Too Much to Love in the minimalism of its arrangements—mostly an exuberantly strummed baritone ukulele with ad hoc percussion (drums and machines, handclaps) and the occasional keyboard, kazoo, or recorder for coloring. Seafoam also carries forward Smog / Bill Callahan’s penchant for humor and deep reflections with an economy of words—some of which may first seem superficial—conveying big messages.

Contrasted to Callahan’s deep-earth baritone is Tommy’s equally resonant tenor, one of the sweetest set of pipes ever to be downloaded onto MySpace. Tommy effortlessly activates his vocal cords toward yearning soulfulness, deadpan bemusement, and punk-rock outrage, sometimes within the same song.

But one of the greatest songs on Seafoam is the record’s last track (also on the SoftSpots bandcamp sampler), an instrumental called “Lost Dog.” Tommy’s voice here is replaced by a four-note whistle, which appears only at the beginning and the end of the song. In-between is a finger-picked odyssey of masterful repetition and subtle variation. These snuck-in notes may be calculated in the abstract, but they come across on “Lost Dog” as improvisatory and inspired. At the risk of overstatement, the song is a compositional and technical achievement, not only in the context of Seafoam, but the as part of the entire Lovehandles catalog (of which there are literally hundreds of songs, most of them criminally unavailable). “Lost Dog” is a Fahey-esque guitar piece that doesn’t simply ape the master—it expands the emotional potentialities of the form.

Age and growth are the subjects of “Holiday on the Holodeck,” in which Tommy imagines the perfect celebration with friends and family across multiple time periods and places, getting nearer to the essence of the past as he moves farther away from it. Unfortunately, he’s unable to successfully replicate his idealized surroundings, nor the people that inhabit his fantasy space: “I couldn’t program it,” he chants at the end, coming to grips with the impossibility of his wish.

Instrumentally, “Asian Superstore” is the fullest track on Seafoam, with busy bongos competing with a syncopated marimba, and a single maraca holding the beat together. True to its title, the song is a celebration of the family-owned food mart and its superiority over the supermarkets and price clubs that are in a constant state of being built in every neighborhood. This kind of subject matter is exactly Tommy’s cup of meat. As an artist, his point is to ensure listeners take notice of the normally overlooked treasures of our American lives.

“Ladder on Wheels” is a pointless thought experiment, partially redeemed by a brief recorder solo near the end. Tommy goes toward raw Impressionism in “Hot Water,” a meditative sketch on the potential end of a relationship. The gentle rap of the cymbals recreates the stream of water and doubt that can fall upon one in isolation.

“My Little Cuckoo” is the first of Seafoam’s “avian trilogy.” A trifle of a song, “My Little Cuckoo” describes how a kind of strangeness can be the defining characteristic of an object of affection. Rockabilly punk, accented by an energetic and open hi-hat, fuels “Chicks Through the Grinder,” a commentary on the industrialized food sourcing that devalues the animals we eat and dehumanizes us as consumers in the process. Despite the heaviness of the lyrics, “Chicks Through the Grinder” is a fast, fun song—I can’t recall the numbers “six” and “seven” being expressed with such significance and intensity, since Black Francis laid down his vocal in the Pixies’s “Monkey Gone to Heaven.”

Closing out the “avian trilogy” is “No One’s Ever Innocent,” a contemplation of human capitalizing and exploiting, in seemingly harmless ways, the environment. In this case, a hummingbird feeder when winter hardens the sugar water: “Everything that we’re doin’ / somehow causes ruin / even when it’s not what we meant.” Over the course of just a few minutes, the song evolves into a metaphor on relationships, the harm we do to others when we attract them and try to keep them around. By eliminating the freedom that drew us to someone in the first place, we end up killing the core of the inspiration for our love.

On its surface, “Stay Home,” near the end of the record, espouses domestic tranquility. In the context of “Hot Water,” though, (a repeated “am I leaving you?”) and “No One’s Ever Innocent’s” zen-like expression of human-animal and human-human relationships, “Stay Home” resounds more like a deep-seated hope than a literal depiction, somewhat too rosy, of things as they truly are.

Which reinforces the strongest message of Seafoam on Speakerphone: that hopes, desires, and all the things around us that are in our possession and are forever beyond our possession require our attention, and with that, care, effort, and struggle, so that they can glow with true worth and possibility. These small components that sum up to a life—to make them real, Tommy, or Lovehandles, asks us to open our hearts. When we work at these moments of realization and visceral pleasure and doubt and confusion and pain, we might, despite falling short at times, have a short glimpse at meaning. And maybe even make it through okay.    

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Hiveswap Act 1 OST Review

Ok, I’ve been listening to it for some time. I should really review the OST! 

I’m a musical ameteur so this is a bad idea. Hope you enjoy it! 

1. Definitely Safe Forever -  good. 3 out of 5. nothing else to say on the matter

2. Snake Escape - great. very funky, nice bass tones. iconic hiveswap tone... 4 out of 5.

3. Joey Claire, Extraordinaire - Nice slow buildup, gentle theme. Feels welcoming and safe, yet a bit more curious than your average Pokemon hometown theme. The wind instrument gets extremely loud at times, maybe too loud. But this track is so different from what Homestuck usually offers that it paints a new identity for Hiveswap. It’s repetitive enough to not distract you, but interesting enough to not bore you. I like how it gets a bit more mellow and bittersweet over time, which is something you can say for a lot of tracks. 4/5.

4. Half-Harley Manor - I have always liked  the leitmotif for this house. It’s... not quite spooky, but not warm and welcoming either. I love how this track starts loud and spooky, then you have quiet percussion, then it gets back to the original theme with a bit more windiness... very satsifying. Then the part where it gets VERY sparkly and happy. Idk what intrument that is. Keyboard? It’s the only part of the song that makes this feel like home, ut then it loops back into the original alienating theme. 4 out of 5..... 

5. Relatively Visible Darkness - I don’t like the trumpets in this much but I enjoy everything else about this theme. Serves its job. Relatively unspectacular... until the chorus in the second half,  then it gets great. for a little bit. 3 out of 5.

6. Bedroom for an Annoying Dog - Love the final fantasy joke. Love how scary they made the fucking basement sound. Love how this builds up with the, uhh, organ pipes? 5 out of 5.

7. That’s How I Beat Snake - hmmm... Very nice intro but the main theme is a bit shit, until it hits the chorus, then it gets catchy. Its soundfont is... odd. I think it serves well as a fight theme but is the weakest battle music in the game. I do like the drop at the second part a lot! 3 out of 5. or 6 out of 10. yes. lets start doing them out of 10 from now on because fuck consistency.  

8. Jude Harley, Bizarrely - Nice character theme but terrible music. I think that’s the intention. You do however lose points for it being a remix of Joey’s theme and Harleyhouse Manor because it means the only sort of leitmotif Jude has is how fucking bad his music is . 6 out of 10 get this CANMT shit out of here.

9. Table for Tooth - NICE INTRO! This was used in the trailer, right? I love the initial drop. The main theme’s instrument is... garbage, yes. But then it plays the Harleyhouse theme and it’s SO GOOD.  Wish that part was longer. 7 out of 10. 

10. Final Spice - if you think this sounds like an Undertale track it’s cos this one had the least touching up by James. It reminds me of Toriel’s theme. Nice and catchy but not quite good enough for me to enjoy. 7 out of 10. 

11. Living Legend - The final and best battle theme on tis track. Another Final Fantasy joke. I love this theme and what James and Toby did with it. 9 out of 10.... not quite the best track on the album, but very close. 

12. Singular Peril - nice and perilous. Also nice coming off of the Final Fantasy track cos this reminds me  of when you escape the nuclear plant in FF7. 8 out of 10. Would work better if it wasnt heard for just 3 seconds.

13. A More Defensible Position  - I, think this is the tied second-best track on the album because of its second part. So magical, so ominous. You feel shit building up here.  9 out of 10. 

14. Open the Door - Majestic buildup, dark, intense, spooky......... then it becomes nothing shot of an anticlimax. It needs to be LOUDER on the piano part! Then it could have been the best track easily! 7 out of 10. 

15. Keep Your Head Down - I’m annoyed at how far forward this track is cos you only hear it after Xefros gets flattened. I love it though, very 80s, fitting remix of Xefros’s theme to represent the path he and Joey have ahead of them. 1980 out of 2000.

16. Oh Whoah, What’s This - The theme’s fine. A nice intro to Dammek’s hive, gentle and empty after the dramatic teleportation. The name however is unacceptable. 0 out of 10. 

17. Some Kind Of Alien - WHOAHHHH the transition between these two themes is nuts. I love how LOUD this track is! I love the waltzy beat, the flute, how it represents Dammek’s conspiring nature. It gets much more cheerful as it goes on,perhaps indicating this boy isn’t entirely a weird jerk.  And it ends on Karkat! 8 out of 10. Probably deserves a 9. 

18. Rustblood - When people play through this game, this tune really catches them. And I enjoy it, because this is the part of the game that starts feeling like homestuck, yknow? Anyway Xefros has by far the most distinguished theme out of any of his mates. This is very Toby Fox. Very solid 7 out of 10. 

19. Filthy Nuclear Bunker - you know how HYPE this track is? You just want to click on everything and read all the text, because it has hit you that you’re playing the HOMESTUCK VIDEOGAME  and youre REALLY ENJOYING IT. 9 out of 10 for the variety of instruments, the upbeat mood. Despite the weird soundfont. I’m feeling generous. This music is relatively long though, compared to the others. It should end before I change my mind.

20. SPORTS! Personally I Love Them - this is the third time ive listened to this track today. 7.8 out of 10 too much Superbowl. Liked the Dark Souls reference in this room. I wish the music that played during the puzzle was in this OST.

21. Lofted Gunpile - A more “meh” version of Dammek’s theme. I prefer what they eventually went with. Why did James want it to be so.... low? Same complaint as the anticlimactic portal theme. Do like when the instruments start blending together near the end. 6 out of 10. 

22. Serpent Genesis Better, original version of the snake fight with better soundfont. 8 out of 10. 

23. We Shall Go Together - Beautiful ending to the game. Nothing spectacular about it though. 6 out of 10. 

24. Wish You Were Here - Our first taste of Trizza’s theme and by jegus it’s amazing. Very little can make you more hyped for act 2 than an intimidating introduction to the antagonist, a selfie over a burning village. WHOAHHH its actually playing now and I like it even more. That DROP. 9 out of 10 easily. 

25. Intermission 1 - Welcome to the best track on the fucking album. I think the credits should always be the best. Starts off with continuing Trizza’s theme, letting us absorb what we just witnessed, as drawings of the game we just played appear. Then you get hints of the theme from Dammek’s hive. Quieter during this part.... funkier again... THEN IT GETS REALLY INTENSE.  That’s easily my favourite part. Anyway, 10 out of 10. This track alone has me ready to wait for act 2. 

26. Alternate Recipe - 8bit mix of the spice theme. Louder, which is good. 7.5 out of 10. Catchy.

27. Heavy Snaking - I... prefer the original snake theme in the context of a fight. This is ok to listen to by itself though. Oh gosh that bass! 8 out of 10 great music, wrong atmosphere for the extremely brief battle. This’d be great as a boss encounter theme though. If it was used in the right place, then it’d possibly score even a 9 or 10.

28. “How It Could Have Gone” - seems to be about the portal? A ot louder than what they went with. I wouldnt have minded this being merged with the actual theme, but I still think it could be better. 7 out of 10.I love the spookiness of the original and would be sad if that was gone.

29. Old steps - Dance, Joey, Dance! Not really a song. 

30. UNDERTALE. 10/10. Sincerely. I love it. 

Total musical rating -  8 out of 10. Does its job very well of being good but not distracting. Good background music, rather than the energetic music of Homestuck itself.

[cykragnostic]

A shiny gold coin shall be yours IF you can identify the disturbing artist whose works I based these descriptions on! Seriously, I can't remember his name. It was years ago and a bad late night on the web. Freaky stuff appropriate for your Mythos-triumphant futures. I shall try to find the artist, but really, looking at this, there are any number of options for statting them out for an RPG: horror, weird-side dungeon fantasy, some mythogical game with symbolic and moral attributes, virtues and curses...

CRANIAL COMMANDO A large, broad, headless engine body, rather in the shape of a fat crab shell, sits atop a pair of fat machined legs, each foot with three broad toes. Four long arms extend from the rounded corners of the fuselage, each like a human arm, ending in a delicate three-fingered hand protected by a massive gauntlet. Harnesses across the top and back hold a variety of range and close weapons; two or three of its hands hold one at any time.

The body remaining to the originally human pilot is centered roughly in the abdomen; a thin skull surrounds a swollen brain, other organs mixed promiscuously with machine-organs. It is cradled in a thick, crystal-clear sphere etched with fine letters and symbols. No visible sense organs.

PELAGISTRIER A modified whale. Its skull has been greatly elongated and fused with silvery crystalline material into a hard hull. The back of the skull-cab swings up, hinged with muscle and metal; the lower edge of the hatch is ragged like teeth in a jaw. A comfortable, white, leathern couch is visible in the coach of the skull; slowly writhing black stumps are at hand for a head, hands, and lower orifices. The whale's eye-sockets are likewise enlarged and bristle with sensory spines and lenses; coils reach into the mouth from asymmetrical pods alongside the beast's underbelly, where two cybernetic paws are currently at rest, streamlined against the body. The massive fins and flukes are ridged with the same crystalline-metallic substance as the cockpit.

HEREROGENOUS FIEND A roughly human form, flesh not so much stitched together as exuded from a pump and cleverly spun together. A massive left arm, leathery flesh spread across a leaden armature and now clutching a vast spiked club; two smaller limbs on the left are balanced by five on the right, the largest of which is outlined in a blur as tendrils move back and forth. The smaller arm-limbs mostly do not end in hands but in spines or cudgels to be swung on fine but sturdy cable. The thing's torso has parts of at least nine jawbones, human and animal, visible, and eyes of all sizes here and there across its surface. On the right shoulder is a child-sized form with three stubby, independent arms weakly struggling; one limb reaches up to scratch at it now and then, and it may pop off.

PRECIOUS CONTRIVANCE FOR GUESTS' DIVERTMENT A porcelain construction in the shape of an elegant, slim woman, hands, body, and head in pleasing proportion, joints clever articulations of the ceramic exterior over dully shining bronze ball joints. It plays twelve games of skill and chance, sings with a piping sound, can accompany itself on stringed and percussive instruments, and serves tea. It is dressed in courtly silk garments that intermingle with the six tubes coiling like thick braids of hair from the head, wrapped in a large and intricate knot, then under the back of the frock and out into a trunk kept hidden from view. The trunk put-puts steadily as fluids are pumped in and out of the automaton. The head, from nose up, is concealed in folds of an intricate bejeweled turban which, should it somehow come undone, reveals a pair of lidless, mad, staring human eyes set in the ceramic skull. Mistress Hortense Bejezebaelia Montessori, Margravine of Auckland and Para-duchess of the 18th Precinct. Mistress Hortense is a tall and stately creature garbed in a vast and heavy frock, much frilled and laced and beaded. Her hands always move over the stove-belly-like contraption in her midriff, which her frock parts around. Many small dials, switches and knobs fill two arcs like commas on her sides, and from time to time she adjusts these without looking at them. There is a port on the swelling large enough to admit perhaps a cat.

THE PALANQUIN OF OBLOQUY Four bearers garbed in vast, flowing, layered robes grasp the highly wrought support bars at the base of an irregular dodecahedral object, each panel shimmering with images of the mighty victories and conquests of the kings of the land. The Palanquins are the honored conveyances of high level traitors and elaborate suicides from among the pathocracy; an annual lottery allows one lucky commoner to be sealed in the Palanquin and be borne about the streets for ages to come. The bearers are masked in gleaming black and grey globular helmets attached by hoses and cables to the underside of the Palanquin. They never rest, nor sit, nor cease their stately procession, but will slow upon request, the better to observe the decorative sides of the Palanquin.

HONORED SCRIBES The Scribe sits lotus style on a small platform, a lap-desk anchored to its atrophied toes and pens, ink and styluses rakishly set out to the sides. When not writing, the scribes' arms rest on contraptions jutting wide out from the walking-platform, its hands held in cunning mudras. The head has wide and staring eyes, all black, no nose or mouth. Its pearly skin smells of sweet oil and lilac, and it wears finely woven black and red mesh. The walking-platform is draped in a kilt-like garment patterned after an insect's carapace. A pair of strong, hairless red legs shoed in elaborate sandals jut out from the kilt and trace mincing steps over the floor of the palaces and salons home to the Scribes.

SPRIGHTLY SOLDAT Four long, thin, deer-like legs are the base of this entity, whose torso can seat a human-shaped figure; a fine uniform in bright parade-ground colors largely conceals the tumorous bulges where two bodies were molded together to form this steed; four clutching hands reach out from the front and back to hold travel-goods, and the heads have also been fused and relocated into a torpedo-like arrangement on the undercarriage; the lipless mouth has large, square teeth.

NIGHTWIGHT A whippy, ectoplasmic creature with a variable number of limbs and extrusions, more human shaped than not, with a headish protuberance whose color moves from the indifferent whitish-grey of the main body mass into inky blackness arranged around a radial, irising mouth, chisel-edged, before fading into invisibility. At a distance of half a meter or so away from the head and torso, orange electrical bolts sluggishly trace the surfaces of invisible nested spheres, and figures reminiscent of a star chart, or perhaps musical notation, appear momentarily along these ghostly orbits. The night-wight can move independently but prefers to spend most of its time waving circularly over the suited remains of a ship's crew or other places where humans and machines have catastrophically breached the mind-sea.

AERONAUTIC SENTRY CUR A dog it once was, for the doggy scent hangs closely about it, and beneath the steel and ceramic of the strangely articulated helmet, a predatory canine head is still to be perceived. The jaw has been altered to swing open in two fanged limbs. The head is on a thick but sinewy neck, the chest teardrop-shaped. Four large doggy paws are symmetrically aligned like the tail fins of a rocket, legs spread so it can stand on all four or on any adjacent pair. The paws have a fat but serviceable thumb. The tail is not cropped but elongated and prehensile. Where the sternum was, at birth or in the bodies of its ancestors, there is a ceramic circular lid, hinged on the bottom edge. It opens to extend a fuel intake proboscis that can expel corrosives, terror-drugs, and other liquids. The Sentry Cur is at home in gravity and free-fall both.

FUNEREAL JUGGERNAUT A giant creature, fifteen or so meters tall, neither like a tortoise nor pachyderm but partaking of the brutish qualities of both, with six thick, apelike legs ending in massive horny paws. A harness round the torso and waist support an intricately decorated cylinder, like a section of tower, that remains level as the beast moves forward. Rubbish birds flock to whatever is on the top. It plods along, jingling with bells, chimes, gongs, wind-whistles and other noisemakers. Its head is more maw than else, with eight long tusks scrimshawed and bound with gold, and a humming machine set in the center of the maw. No eyes are to be seen, but four independently moving tubular ears may overlap in general function. Heavy, putrid incense fumes from portals around the tower, and a pair of tiny human figures, hardly bigger than children, sit attentively in harnesses at its sides. Their head and arms are unseen and beneath elaborate ceremonial robes, a range weapon pivots atop each head, tracking any movement nearby.

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 334: SiP

One of my favorite releases so far this year, and indeed of recent memory, is Leos Naturals, a forthcoming cassette on Not Not Fun Records written and produced by keyboard explorer Jimmy Lacy, otherwise known as SiP. It’s rare that an album so perfectly intersects this many of my favorite styles and sounds, and across the nine tracks, my mind is carried towards the minimalist flights of Terry Riley and the organic music of Don Cherry; the spiritual meditations of Alice Coltrane and the interstellar journeys of Sun Ra; the ebullient kosmische of Manuel Gottsching and the dreamspace ragas of the Theatre of Eternal Music; the pastoral psych folk of Woo and the spaghetti western scores of Ennio Morricone; and the rich lineages of post-rock and experimental music in Chicago…things like Tortoise, Brokeback, Natural Information Society, Mind Over Mirrors, and Bitchin Bajas. More remarkable still is that Lacy does almost everything with a minimal palette of organ and synth, using his keys and fingers to create kaleidoscopic spiral patterns, multi-layered fire webs, and LSD tracers of every possible color. Often times the left hand holds down a narcotic bass groove reveling in shades of Saharan jazz, West African highlife, and bubbly sunshine dub while the right hand explores mystical sonic landscapes which, in addition to classical raga, minimalism, modal jazz, and krautrock, also touch on Ethiopian psych and a range of sounds from various Native American folk traditions. And though the tracks are often solo organ journeys carried by primitive loops of hand drum exotica, they are sometimes accented by summertime kalimba storms, seaside melodica breezes, and multi-faceted bass clarinet performances, which vary between lounge romance, rainforest mystery, big band nostalgia, and free jazz shaman magic.

SiP - Leos Naturals (Not Not Fun, 2020) The percussion of “Amitabul” rolls through the desert with a subdued horseback gallop while subsonic basslines evoke warming dub liquids. Clustered keyboards spread across the spectrum like mirage sparkles and solar organ leads weave lullaby ragas and shake charmer serenades while tambourines and sleigh bells jangle in the distance and sometimes, the organ melodics are swapped out for gentle sunshowers of kalimba. Elsewhere, P. Prezzano’s melodica blows like a wheezing wind, with all distinction between melodica and organ disappearing as the two instruments blur into a smoldering cloud of psychedelic sound, and towards the end, we cut unexpectedly into tribal fire dance mysticism, with hand drums beating urgently, ringing bells filling all space, and Ben Chasny-style acid vox calling to the ancestral spirits. The percussion of “Pure Horse” mimics the sounds of clopping hooves against sunbaked stone while basslines slither through North African jazz descents. Repeating keyboard riffs execute a drunken delirium dance alongside the horse-gallop groove and everything proceeds according to Lacy’s own feverish dream logic, with acid-fried leads alighting on flights of spiritual jazz fantasy and Arabian desert exotica that sometimes mesmerically track with the basslines. Best of all, dueling keyboard leads sitting somewhere between a ceremonial wood flute and a rainforest pan-pipe occasionally sing overhead…their esoteric folk harmonies lifting the soul towards astral ecstasy. “Ras Cosmos” sets bells ringing beneath some approximation of a phaser-smothered zither…like an elven future spirit playing a strange psaltery strung with electrified strands of crystal, where each pluck swirls into a self-contained vortex. There’s a touch of Japanese traditional music as the spageage koto evocations are accompanied by E. Juhl’s cloudy clarinet abstractions, and at some point, shakers and floor toms give the groove a shambolic lurch as the clarinet works through big band jazz melodies from a bygone era. And though the whole thing seems to approach the drunken exotica of Haruomi Hosono, the moment is all to brief, for we soon return to blues-soaked space harp psychedelia and pastoral woodwind ambiance.

“Malabar” ends the A-side with desert caravan hand percussions bopping over a frog-squelch bass pulse while kalimbas flutter in a seaside breeze. Juhl’s clarinet approximates elephant shrieks and jungle mating calls until harmonious organ chords billow into the mix…like a warming blast of wind and sand. Shakers dance alongside a snaking synth lead awash in Indian ocean magic before the mix gives over to clarinet exotica…like Woo exploring a coastal oasis. And so it goes for the rest of the track, a sort of dream dance progression between clarinet balearica and passages dominated by immersive organ wavefronts and joyous raga-lead explorations, the latter of which increase in intensity as things progress….shakers hissing like snake tails, tambourines shaking out golden hazes, ethnological drums dancing wildly beneath an idiophonic rainfall, and Lacy’s keyboards climbing towards the sun with joyous abandon, his bleating leads and shamanic spirals falling over themselves and creating multi-layered tapestries of free jazz intensity, high life positivity, and raga complexity. There’s even a climax of wall-of-sound psychedelia where whistles overblow into feedback ecstasy while keyboards transmute through crazed LFO oscillations and hyperspeed fractal dances. Then on B-side opener “Electric Palm Study,” a shuffling psych rock groove is sourced from an old organ drum machine…a sort of primitive rhythm box kosmische, with basslines bouncing through acid-colored flower fields. And as spindly keyboard riffs jangle in the sunshine, the mix overflows with malfunctioning computronics, further overblown whistling, and garbled broadcasts from faraway star systems. The mangled electronic accents continue in “Sparkling Spur,” which establishes a loping groove built from tom-tom rhythmics, galloping bass riffs, and muted shaker clicks…a horseback trot through a seaside saloon town, or perhaps a journey atop a bouncing burro, riding the crest of a dune while sparkling waves crash against a white sand beach. Sunbeam synth leads rise towards the sky, with touches of spaghetti western and Ethiopian folk radiating in all directions, and towards the end, as these Afro-coastal and American western melodies converse across the spectrum, the crazed feedback electronics settle into synthetic birdsong.

In “Chicago Dream Center,” organ basslines move with a spiritual bop…a sort of Arabian desert fantasy sway. As we give over to a cosmic jazz groove awash in modal organ spirituality, one that evokes for me Alice’s late 70s classic Eternity, tambourines create glimmering webs and minimalist keyboard patterns splay out in each ear. It’s an eye-closed revery of mystical inspiration, one that pushes even closer towards transcendence as Juhl’s bass clarinet begins blowing waves of ecstatic fire across the stereo field. Elsewhere, we move away from free jazz intensity and journey towards the realm of dreams, as pan-pipe and forest flute leads invoke mystical visions of coyotes howling at the stars. And all throughout the mix, weird gusts of metallic wind blow and eventually subsume everything, until all that remains is sparse wind chime resonance. We move more directly into the Coltrane universe with the tributary “Alice,” though it could also rightfully be called “Herman.” Stuttering bass patterns eventually release into sustaining warmth…like be-bop rendered as otherworldly ambient in a way pulling my mind to Sun Ra’s “Exotic Forest” and that similar feeling of exotica space jazz threatening to vaporize at any moment. Juhl blows cool noir breezes via clarinet, the sounds filmic and emotionally affecting…like the twilit heroin journeys of Bohren & der Club of Gore’s…and all the while, an e-piano smothered in liquid tremolo moves between overflowing chord clusters and percussive runs up the scale. Tambourines and ceremonial bells generate sprays of sparkling metal that bring further touches of Alice, though the rhythms flow in and out of focus like a daydream. There are also moments where vents in the ground open up and spew forth neon space vapors and LSD-smothered fusion runs, which then swim drunkenly towards the stars. “Rainbow Kids” closes Leos Naturals with ecclesiastical keyboard waves and clattering chimes while overhead, Lacy’s organ does a fantastic impression of a tenor sax. It’s a transition from the world of Alice Coltrane to that of John, resulting a spiritual faux-sax paean awash in atmospheres of gospel and old world blues.

(images from my personal copy)

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 312: Joe Morris

I’ve had considerable difficulty putting down my thoughts concerning Joe Morris’ Exotic Language, though not because of the music…a sonic paradise so panoramic and immersive that my mind is completely overwhelmed with hyperbolic descriptors and imagined fantasy landscapes. No, the difficulty comes from determining how to properly contextualize the work of an artist whose music has meant so much to me over the last few years and who has been a constant guidepost as I’ve explored this vague soundworld we all call “balearic”. So perhaps it’s best to go back to the beginning, which involved me trawling through the Is It Balearic? Discogs page picking out titles whose label art resonated with me…visuals that captured some indefinable spirit of beachside meditation and solar fantasy dancing. This of course led me to Joe’s Golden Tides 12”, the label art of which was given over to impossibly beautiful sunset scenes, ones that were washed out into a sparkling tapestry of golden radiance. It was exactly what I was looking for and from then on, I’ve been in a near constant love affair with the producer’s work, which has led my spirit through so many wonderful musical environments, whether it’s the mystically inclined Bahia EP on Balearic Social, the Cloud Nine 12″ on Wonder Stories, or the increasingly esoteric remix work of Clandestino, Joe’s party crew and studio project run in conjunction with Iain Mac and Nick J. Smith, who have perfected a particularly tripped out style of jacking dancefloor ritualism.

But as great as those works are, the undoubted high point for me came with the release of Jacaranda Skies on Pleasure Unit, an EP that opened Joe’s sound up considerably and foreshadowed many of the adventurous environments he would travel to on his epic full length. Across the 12”, the listener was treated to a tropical house slammer, a futuristic acid jazz ritual, and one of my favorite tracks of recent memory, “The Lost Garden,” which melted the heart with timeless string descents while mallet instruments danced amidst sparkling synths, reverberating guitars, and island percussion exotica. After the release of Jacaranda Skies, I just knew Joe had to drop an album, one that would allow his increasingly adventurous and cinematic sonics to spread all the way out, unrestricted by space or time considerations. Thus I was completely blown away in 2019 as my fantasies came true in the form of Exotic Language, the producer’s magnum opus and a near perfect summary of the many colorful sonic universes he has visited across his career. It’s a true album experience, with well considered track sequencing taking the listener on a oceanic dream journey encompassing Italo deep house, Chicago club workouts, spiritual Afro-trance, ethereal pop-ambient, acid-laced downtempo, aqueous guitar mesmerism, amorphous dub, and so much more. And though mostly realized as a solo effort, including the fantastic artwork, Joe is joined by some crucial guests in the form of Private Agenda and his son Milo.

Joe Morris - Exotic Language (Shades of Sound, 2019) We open on “Firefly Beach,” with guitar swells creating aqueous ripples amidst cricket chirps and crashing waves...the vibe not unlike Onyricon’s “Sweet Dream.” Plucked harps flow through interstellar fluids and synthetic arps smear into seafoam as momentum builds, with hand drums and cymbal taps leading to a low-key climax of downbeat ocean grooving. Tambourines shake through layers of brass synthesis and basslines blur in and out of focus…all while crystalline tones descend amidst solar flare vibrato orchestrations. Next is  “Perfume,” a collaboration with Private Agenda that, if released in the 90s, would have appeared on every single balearic comp, so closely does hit that essential seaside pop vibe, with touches of ethereal R&B married to oceanic chill-out in away strongly evoking the work of Afterlife, especially “Dub in Ya Mind (Beach Club Mix)” and the legendary “Speck of Gold.” Rhodes keys sparkle, big bottomed jazz breaks keep the body vibing, and dreampop guitars swim through ether as funk basslines slide through sexual smoke. Elsewhere, pianos constructed from ocean glass play melodies of dream melancholia alongside blazing string themes and laserbeam sequencing. And carrying the whole thing is a chilling vocal performance from Sean Phillips, his multi-layered and soulful hooks pushing the heart towards pure sunset euphoria. Our first taste of club fire comes via “A Dance With Jupiter,” which touches on Chicago house as well as the intense rave workouts of Clandestino. The track starts with loon calls, spectral rattles, mermaid hazes, and bongos popping over tubular basslines before we flash into a jacked out four-four house groove. Anxious cymbal work cuts up the air, electrified claps crack on the beat, and waves of angel synthesis wrap around the spirit while elsewhere, we breakdown into smacked kicks, brass heatwaves, and hand drum tribalisms. And as acid lines filter in from the void, the track snaps back into a tech house fever dream, with increasingly wild 303 patterns spraying neon liquids over anthemic chord riffs while 90s rave whistles are danced around by polychrome pan-pipe tracers.

At the start of “Echo Station,” cymbals flow through timelag generators, guitars flutter, and hand drums pop through mutating fx chains until we drop into a subsonic bass groove, with dubwise drum beats pulsing through a stoner paradise. Weirdo reggae riffs wiggle in each ear, with organs and trumpets mutating into insect psychedelia and metallic chords wavering through delay-soaked mirages. Spacey six-strings shimmer, pianos skip across new age sunbeams, and flutes execute LSD dances as the rhythms refuse to coalesce, creating that classical drug touch…a sort of fevered fantasy space where everything constantly shifts through humid layers of rainbow fog…the vibe not unlike the recent work of Androo. There’s a moment where the rhythms fade to gas amidst rimshot cloudforms while anthemic ocean wavefronts fade in, with touches of ambient prog glory shining through the deep blue hazes. Fantasy sequences climb playfully towards the clouds and synthesizers filter into neon magic as the dub riddims finally return, now with piano starlight sparkling amidst drunken brass fanfares. Next comes “Celestial Plantation,” wherein pads settle like a ghostly ocean fog, one aglow in prismatic hues of mother-of-pearl. Birds chirp, waves crash, and hand drums cascade through delays before blurring into a flutter of blutterfly wings…all while bass pulses give the abstracted groove a touch of tribal body magic. Melodic brass themes peel away to reveal sparkling gemstone electronics and electro cymbals hiss across the spectrum as the vibe grows ever more blissed out, with the spirit soaring on waves of coral colored euphoria. The heart overflows with balearic majesty and all bad vibrations are washed away by starlight electronics and glowing melodic crystals as Joe sets the body afloat via gaseous chill-out rhythmics. And best of all, there are these glorious moments where the spirit seems to rise above the clouds, with synths swelling and white noise hazes parting to reveal spiritual whistle tones and elven pan-pipes…a sort of new age paean to the spirits of the sea pulling the mind towards a beachside oasis, with palm trees blowing in a tropical wind while birds of paradise flit amongst the fronds.

In “Dream Clouds,” galactic vapors rattle amidst an angel choirs comprised of male cyborg breaths and glimmering fairy voices. A four-to-the-floor pulse is accented by acid bass jacking, hi-hats spread into ticking psychedelia, and clipped snares give the beat a faint disco pulse as we soar through Joe’s own paradisal imagining of Italo dream house....a euphoria-kissed fantasy world of lush dancefloor exotica…spread out, gaseous, and with billowing waves of ether stoking hallucinogenic visions. Filtering phasers infuse the aqueous pad motions, paranoid rimshots transform into kosmische energy tracers, and feedback marbles glisten in cold solar light as the snares and claps fire in that distinctly Clandestino way…the mind never allowed to settle while pushing ever closer towards hyperventilated delirium. Elsewhere, kicks pull away for a machine jazz jam, all rigid robot bopping before slamming back into fantasy dance magic, with blistering chords ringing out, white light pads bending into dolphin sirensong, and crystalline chords conversing with reverb-soaked cricket chirps. “Acid Safari” hits similar notes of freaky forest acid as “Mangrove Dawn” from Jacaranda Skies, though replacing that track’s ritualistic percussion flow with fat-bottomed rave breaks and a dubwise bass skank. The baggy and zoned out 90s-style beat science is accented by industrial tom-tom splatter, echo-soaked hand percussion, cave crack snares, and mechanized cymbal hiss, with the mix increasingly suffused by monkey howls and orchestral heatwaves. Sunbeam guitar percolations and syncopated synth riffs morph through delay layers until the vibe grows murky, resulting in a mystical environment of dispersed rhythms and machines that growl like jaguars. Cosmic acid lines diffuse in and hand drums carry the soul towards the heart of the jungle, with sunlight filtering through the dark tropical growth in the form of six-string echo dances. Blasting back into sunshine rave breaks and dub-kissed psychedelics, mutating acid lines roar at the edges of the mind and as we move towards the end, saloon-leaning Rhodes chords portend a cinematic western sunset while string synths melt towards an impossible horizon.

There’s some mystical magic happening within “Spirit Walker,” with Joe taking deep inspiration from Larry Heard as he crafts an ambient house epic. But that’s not all, for amidst the mermaid choir fantasias, harmonious whalesong hazes, and clouds of cyborg psychedelia, snare drums rattle into a free jazz fever dream, shakers keep a hypnotic pulse, and hand drums alight on adventures of Afro-beat intensity…the track coming together as some inspired amalgam of ecstatic future dance energy and ancient tribal magic. Animalistic acid lines growl down low and dream house piano chords blur through sunset colorations until eventually being replaced by pure trance vocal synthesis…these chopping waves of angel bliss pushing the mind towards transcendence. There’s a moment where the basslines pull away, leaving behind a gaseous world of spiritual jazz, wherein pianos decay while cinematic pads are surrounded by whooshing layers of aquatic ambiance. Then, as we slam back into Afro-house firedance, balafons and kalimbas weave in and out of the Goan voice layers…a mix of idiophonic rainfall and slow motion trance ecstasy that could float my spirit forever. Closer “Milo’s Theme” begins with morphing synth chords…like pianos obscured by alien foam. Hovering sea-spirits radiate aquamarine while dream sequences dance ear-to-ear and after a gaseous burst, we flow into an immersive groove of downtempo drumming and bongo tropicalia. Chopping vibrato hazes diffuse in and out of empty space, guitars sing spiritual songs of seaside blues, and gemstone melodies flow upwards as feedback tracers mimic sad seagull cries. Then, the rhythms disappear and the song gives over to a new age soundbath, one that celebrates the newness of life with joyous baby babbles (sourced from Joe’s son Milo) and bubbling strands of melted ocean glass. And after a climactic reprise of sunset groove majesty, with layered guitars, tremolo psychedelics, and squelching piano chords hovering over post-rock rhythmics and balearic beat expanses, we return again to a world of ambient sea-spray, abstracted echo weirdness, and gurgling infant breaths.

(images from my personal copy)

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 324: Proper Sunburn - Forgotten Sunscreen Applied by Basso

Given that February is almost over, I’m slowly starting to accept that there’s going to be many great albums from 2019 that I’ll never get a chance to write about. There’s one though that I can’t imagine leaving behind, and that is Proper Sunburn - Forgotten Sunscreen Applied by Basso, which comprises the third volume of Music for Dreams’ “The Serious Collector Series.” Whereas other volumes in the series such as Jan Schulte’s Tropical Drums of Deutschland or soFa’s Elsewhere Junior: A Collection of Cosmic Children’s Songs have explored conceptual curation and highly specific soundworlds, Basso’s Proper Sunburn seeks to do nothing more than present an excellent and well-sequenced collection of tracks and thus aligns closely with Moonboots’ balearic masterpiece Moments in Time. The selections here range from bargain bin beauties to highly obscure rarities, and every single note perfectly encapsulates that elusive yet somehow well understood “Growing Bin vibe.” Across four sides of perfectly pressed wax, Basso treats the listener to wonderful expanses of sunshine positivity, wherein ambient prog shufflers and new age fusion burners intermingle with forest folk psych meditations and joyous synthesizer starscapes. Elsewhere, sugar plum pop vocals surround soulful breakbeat bangers, Italo serenades are married to interstellar AOR, future jazz beatscapes lead Afro-savanna spirituals, and spectral harp runs rain down over acidic lounge zone outs. And though the vibe is primarily of ebullience and celebration, there are also moments of shadowy intensity and dark drama, as the compilation occasionally detours towards dirgey break-up anthems, psychoactive riff rockers, tribal-tinged NDW lullabies, and cruises down the autobahn with shades drawn to the night sky.

Proper Suburn - Forgotten Sunscreen Applied by Basso (Music for Dreams, 2019) The journey begins with Hans Hass and a question: “Welche farbe hat der wind”? Delay-soaked seagull cries introduce a shuffling drum and acoustic guitar groove, with broken beat snare and cymbal patterns giving everything a folksy funk touch. Spindly six string leads weave in and out of the mix and basslines thump through up/down octave motions while Hass’ closed mic’d vocals wrap sensual threads around the heart. During the chorus, harmonious sirens back the male croon and later, during a subdued guitar solo, masculine and feminine vocal accents accompany the psych folk adventures…the whole thing taking my mind to Pentangle…as if McShee and Jantsch are scatting together while Renbourn tears up the fretboard. Pianos add a touch of western saloon magic, ambient organs hover in the distance, and at some point, seagulls, waves, and jet engine drones threaten to wash the mix away. Later, when the vocal scats return, they are more mysterious…haunted even…as they track the dazzling piano and acoustic guitar fireworks. And as the track ends, it all devolves into musique concrete, with voices speaking amidst crazed sound fx and jangling riff panoramas. In the liner notes, Basso discusses being inspired to revisit Volume 5 of DJ Food’s Jazz Breaks series due to a Moonboots set in Croatia, and so we have “The Dawn” appearing here. Seashells, rainsticks, and seed shakers introduce a jazz-kissed tabla rhythm, with tambourines ringing and trap kit touches intercutting in the form of bopping fills and tribal tom flourishes. Afro-idiophonics rain down from a sunshine sky, with balafon gourds buzzing amidst harmonious bass currents that seem to rise up from the soil. Whispers move through blinding feedback swells, synthesizers bathe paradise savannas in golden light, and virtual trumpets intertwine with ancestral choirs emanating from sticks and stones…the whole thing coming together like some dubbed out future jazz approximation of Phil Collins’ globalist world pop.

RVDS’s “Minuet de Vampire” is the most recent cut here and sees rhythm boxes leading a heroin-soaked lounge sway, with hissing hats decaying, square wave synth pulses bopping like a contrabass, and wavering chords hovering like morning fog. Decaying note trails seems to stretch towards infinity, subtle filter manipulations transform into ghostly howls, and guitar volume swells generate billowing hazes that are both angelic and sickly at once. There’s a touch of fever dream delirium as resonating vapors overlap and just as you’ve resigned yourself to the almost oppressive atmospherics of midnight exotica, flashes of light enter via spellbinding harp runs…these immersively gorgeous string melodies that intermingle with the downer atmospheres of firedance future jazz in a way recalling Alice, though as if backed by band of cyborgs. Brass-generated dub chords flutter into the stereo field and the plucked strings continue to shimmer like starlight…increasingly sounding not like a harp, but some crystalline structure that produces melodic waterfalls of every possible color. Then in “Light of Darkness” by Horizont, acoustic guitar rhythms shimmer like underwater gemstones…with dueling six strings generating golden fireworks and refracting lightwaves. Hand drums pop all around the spectrum and shakers keep the body afloat on a soft ambient pulse, with everything doused in reverb and rimshots pinging like sonar blips. There’s a growing sense of anticipation that is eventually rewarded by the presence of smooth basslines, which execute enigmatic conversation with the drum and six string panoramics while sometimes sliding up high and disappearing amongst layers of arpeggiated magic. Almost nothing is allowed to break free from the polyrhythmic folk ritual, so that as the song progresses, it starts to evoke Methany and Hiett, only as if surrendering in total to ceremonial new age minimalism…like a spiritual dance through seascape universes and realms of balearic fantasy.

Xiame’s “Nosso Destino,” from the group’s 1990 LP Xiame, begins with slap bass soloing and guitar chords flowing through reverberating gas clouds. Rainforest percussions underly a narcotizing duet between voice and guitar, wherein sensual pop serenades are back by ringing dreampop chord jangles, and all through the background, Michael Shrieve-style fusions fills splatter and clatter amidst liquid tabla accents. The fragile Italo vocalisms and soft focus touches of mediterranean balladry sweep the heart away towards some seaside paradise...the whole thing scoring a romantic beachside dance bathed in moonlight. There’s a moment where the mix gives over to indulgent fusion fantasy as basslines alight on crazed prog adventures while elsewhere, we push ever further towards a world of transcendent romanticism, with guitar riffs growing urgent and cooing vocalisms suffusing the stereo field…these radiant babbles and child-like croons that eventually climax in a beatific angel chorus. And during an epic passage of closed eye dreampop perfection, a brief yet jaw-dropping laser light guitar solo sets the very air aflame. As Basso tells it, Miko’s “Im Garten” made its way into the balearic consciousness when he live edited two 7”s together at the Garden in Zadar, Croatia. The track sees drum fills communicating with rhythmic birdsong before giving over to a smashing tribal stomp, with bending funk synths and fourth world electro-flutes creating visages of otherworldly jungle environments. Miko enters the scene like some priestess of the night, her operatic vocal mysteries moving in lock step with the militant percussive exotica. Further layers of future funk synthesis arc across the sky and overdubbed voices join in with the sunbeam spells and tribal jazz diva breaths. Industrial winds blow across the mix, hissing voices are obscured by bell tree sparkles, and at some point, the track gives over to rhythmic rainforest psychedelia, with idiophones splashing alongside a mystical drum processional.

Massimo Stella’s “C’e Una Donna Sola” sees touches of mediterranean fusion intermingling with romantic disco and galactic AOR. Sometimes planetarium synthscapes, orgasmic diva moans, and polyrhythmic guitar and piano patterns dance over prog basslines and bongo-led lizard funk drum jams as keyboard star-trails ascend towards the sky. Elsewhere, pleading vocals pull at the heart, heatwave pads wiggle and squiggle, and Rhodes chords skip on sunbeams while octave basslines anchor energetic disco rhythmics. And after some evil vocal chanting and enigmatic angel cooing, we flash into a section of anthemic phaser brass riffing and kaleidoscopic piano soloing before working towards a climax of prog fusion pyrotechnics. Trimolo follows with “Tempe 100” and its congas executing a fantasy jazz bop amidst sparkling guitar harmonics. Pads blow like a cool sea breeze, vocalized bass pulses float the soul, and a flute alights on flights of forest folk fancy while occasionally being joined by pan-pipe virtualisms. During a dramatic instrumental chorus, piano chords bang and sprightly woodwinds flutter above hand drums before the track gives over to a strange midsection wherein digitized clavinet basslines wobble through alien funk motions while western twang acoustics snap overhead. And moving back towards the balearic sway, synthesizers suffuse the mix with sunset colorations as flute leads and Bibiloni-style guitar solos score a beachside forest paradise. Diedel’s “Wo Seid Ihr” is built on rigid machine drums, ethereal pad hazes, and throbbing bass pulsations…the vibe like cruising down a mysterious highway under the dark of night. Claps crack and hi-hats tick anxiously behind Diedel’s sensual singing…his voice whispered and hitting like hot breath on the back of the neck. During the chorus, the track title is repeated in desperation and as darkwave arpeggiations filter over swelling pad cloudforms, we find ourselves in a world of horror-tinged synth-pop that brilliantly presages many aspects of the Italians Do It Better aesthetic. Best of all, the track climaxes with not one but two guitar solos: a Flamenco-kissed acoustic adventure and a molten fuzz guitar eruption.

Mikey D.’s “I Need You (Dub)” sees fat bottomed breaks boom bap’n beneath tropical synth accents, syrupy sampler vocals, orgasmic breaths, electro-tom fills, and bouncing synth basslines. Ethereal hazes and glowing symphonies surround bubblegum vocalisms…these magical boy band fairy hooks that combine with the equatorial dance grooves in a way reminding me of The Knife’s Deep Cuts. At some point, the mix devolves into pure b-boy breakdance mesmerism, with rhythms slapping beneath a panorama of trance electronics and that familiar sample of “you make me feel so good” from Mikey Dread’s “Comic Strip.” Elsewhere, a moment of silence sees ambient percussions, soulful claps, and synthesized orchestrations rushing in alongside a heavenly choral cascades, with repetitions of “Baby! / I Love You! / I Want You! / I Need Your Love!” resulting a pitch perfect moment of electronic gospel pop. And as the song ends, we found ourselves in a surgery sweet paradise of a capella wonderment. As Basso discusses in the liner notes, Wolfsmond’s “Fühl Dich Frei” was an all too short floor filler, one that was begging for an extended dancefloor edit. And so we have “Basso’s Maxi Edit,” which sees evil bass descents leading to a shaker-led rock groove…a pot smoke boogie pulse with tapped hats riding behind squiggling blues guitars while e-pianos sparkle like crystal. Gothic bells ring out as a smokey voice enters the scene, working through stoner lullabies while backing vocals hover mysteriously. The choruses have an almost country western feel, with the track title sung hopefully amidst saloon piano accents and soulful diva whispers, and during an instrumental bridge, woodblocks tick strangely as psychosonic blues solos ride into the night. There’s a moment where it all breaks down into repetitive hand drumming and looping feedback, and as we build back up through scatting guitar riffs and funked out basslines, the track eventually erupts into a jaw dropping 60s psych organ solo.

Apparently, Ghia’s “You Won’t Sleep on My Pillow” was at one point intended to be the closing track, and would have ended this compilation quite dramatically with some shadowy synth pop narcotica touching on Violet Eves and Portishead. Basslines echo and downer drum machine rhythms crack into the void while sci-fi electronics transmute into a heatwave mirage. Lisa Ohm croons over it all with defiant break-up poetry and declarations of independence and as we move into the chorus, the anthemic vocals are backgrounded by golden guitar arpeggios and howling fuzz leads, which create a mesmerizing contrast wherein epic fantasy melodics pull the mind towards cloudland castles even as the lyrics grow ever more angered and intense. There’s a breathtaking moment where the mix explodes open, seeing layer after layer of romantic angel harmonizations pushing the heart towards a climactic synth-pop dreamworld. And later, the group leaves behind the pop paraisos by giving over to tripped out bass fx, boom bap drum expanses, soloing fuzz guitars, and skittering electro accents. A find inspired by a CDr acquired from Tako Reyenga of Music from Memory, Jean Phillipe Rykiel’s “Fair Light” ends the journey on a note of radiant ebullience. Spectral click rhythms underly pads that hit like seafoam, resulting in a polysynth panorama of ambient fusion mastery. Aquamarine hazes are chained to bubbling bass currents, yearning leads modulate through layers of ocean mist, and majestic chordscapes hover like clouds while whale song tracers set the air ablaze. Sometimes we venture off into noodly prog wankery, though it’s always seen through a soft-focus new age blur, and at some point, jangling fuzz guitars enter the scene and give the mix an enhanced fantasy sparkle. The pads lock together to score some impossible sunrise while the leads push ever further towards psychedelic abstraction and nearing the end, kosmische arps billow in from underwater depths and intermingle with the light of refracting starbeams.

(images from my personal copy)

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 304: Mazzo

Though most of the attention was given to Sacred Bones’ loving reissue of Mother Earth’s Plantasia, there was another release this year also focused on using soothing sonics to help plants grow and gardens flourish: Mazzo’s Sound for Gardening. Released on Doom Chakra Tapes Worldwide, this cassette sees 3D artist, virtual sculptor, and musical producer Mazzo combining stargazing new age and paradise dancefloor magic while employing a conceptual split across two sides of tape. On the A-side, seaside house anthems, airy electro vibe outs, and slow motion boogie cruisers intermingle with spiritual ocean sonics…resulting in a truly transcendent stretch of balearic beat. Then on the B-side, Mazzo gives over fully to cosmic aquatic mesmerism, letting ambient Italo dream textures intermingle with Berlin school sequences amidst immersive starscapes of kosmische synthesis. There are moments throughout the tape where it feels as if the soul is afloat in some etheric ocean, wherein rainbow currents eddy around coral crystals and sparkles of gold cause mirage-like hallucinations. Other times it’s like being transported to some fantasy 90s dancefloor…a mass of bodies moving in spiritual ecstasy beneath a shimmering canopy of stars. And threaded through every moment are atmospheres of harmony, peace, and universal love, with the music functioning not just as a balm for plant-based beings, but also for the human spirit.

Mazzo - Sound for Gardening (Doom Chakra Tapes Worldwide, 2019) In “Cloud Mattress,” spiritual choirs sing from a sea of deepest blue…their voices rising to the clouds. Balmy chords float the soul and sea-crystal melodics flutter up above as the track glides on sparse percussion in the style of Sth. Notional’s “Yawn Yawn Yawn,” and during sparse rhythmic drops, pianos move between echoing chords and starbeam descents. The three-dimensional bass pulses of “Purple Waves” lead a reverential house body groove, with kick, hats, and snare locked into a four-to-the-floor jack pattern while claps and electro-toms morph through the spectrum. Dolphin tracers and immersive pad layers fade in as we ascend towards anthemic brass chord fanfares, which give Mazzo’s balearic beats a glowing aura of disco soul sensuality. Tom fills rocket through the stereo field and introduce a virtual marimba solo, with melodies splashing through tidepools in a way not dissimilar to A Vision of Panorama and Miskotom, and everything breaths through a paradise haze, as ethereal currents of light sparkle and the titular purple waves carry the spirit towards beachside dancefloor transcendence. Tambourines echo and ambient pads flow through pooling liquids in “Water Based,” with claps cracking through the layers of cinematic majesty. Island breeze hand percussion spreads across the mix as it generates a gaseous jazz bop while music box melodies dance alongside spiritual pan-pipe enchantments. Elsewhere, the mystical sea spirits from “Cloud Mattress” resume their harmonious choral drift…their voices suffused by golden string warmth…and after a quiet pause, the track rushes back to life with a more defined structure, now seeing glowing arps of ocean glass ascending into reverberating dream textures and fusion synths bending into whalesong psychedelia over a kick drum heart throb.

Despite it’s name, “Mowing Machine” evokes for me some refreshing sailboat cruise across sparkling blue waters…a seaside boogie glide rendered in slow motion with synthfunk basslines and swinging machine drums holding down a sensual body groove. Syncopated toms blast through the stereo field and pan-pipes are repurposed into jazz scats as cosmic oscillations swirl, carrying with them visages of dancing butterflies. The sensual, almost clavinet-esque bassfunk motions are spectacularly tracked by sparkling xylophones…like splashes of equatorial light descending in tandem with the liquid groove. After a glorious stretch of beatless ocean ambiance, featuring aqueous voices intertwining with synthetic hues of blue, the groove rushes back in, now with ultra-chilled fusion solos swimming through a sunset sky. And so it goes for the rest of the track, with Mazzo alternating between blissed out solo synthesis and deep sea dives into mermaid choir mystery. A-side closer “V70” heads immediately into a dreamcloud electro headspace, with airy breakbeats vibing out and panning pads stoking hallucinatory visions. Claps cracks in counterpoint to the rhythms, electronic rimshots blast across the stereo field, and insectoid oscillations ride unseen currents towards a sunset horizon while layered bass syncopations and jacking sequential bursts bring touches of future funk and sci-fi boogie. The rhythms disperse at some point, leaving space for psychosonic bubble tracers, melodies of glowing glass, and pads that swell into a gentle smolder before blowing waves of tropical warmth across the mix. And as the heady electro groove resumes it’s starlight dance, fusion scats, soul-funk solos, and rainbow dashes of light are woven together amidst a wobbling tapestry of vocally generated sea-foam.

The B-side opens with “Clear Sky Cold Wind” and its environments of lapping water, which set the stage for shadowy pad swells and synthetic bass waves. Crystalline chords melt over the billowing currents of synthesis and each pulse of melodic air hits with more strength than the one before, as the notes trail out ever longer through psychotropic fx chains. Those now familiar mermaid choirs join the beauteous float as a galactic arp fades in, with the mixture of emotional ambient darkness and glowing kosmische reminding me of the works of Råd Kjetil Senza Testa. The Carpenter-esque bass synths of “Swarm” generate ominous atmospheres as the Berlin school evocations of the previous track take center stage, with layered sequences weaving a polychrome kosmische panorama. A momentary bassline drop out sees the sequential patterns transforming into themes of flower kingdom prog majesty and when the throbbing bass pulsations return, they bring with them a pillowy kick beat…like pulsing Italo magic repurposed into a mechanized krautrock lullaby. Sequences and arps are filtered into a dazzling displays of synthetic light, alternately bouncing like a balls of cosmic energy, snapping through gemstone refractions, or smearing into drunken delirium. Later, the track breaks down into a false ending that sees progressive electronics mutating into aquatic bubbles strands while sirens sing songs of enchantment through a wah-wah soundbath. And as starscape sequences low pass filter back into shimmering resolution, they carry the spirit with them on waves of anticipation until the kick beat drops and the Italo bass pulsations resume their slow motion hypo-jam, now with epic spaghetti western themes flowing forth on spaceage crystals…the effect like racing across a paradise vista in some futuristic rendering of the wild west.

In “Water Flow,” cold industrial breezes blow over a vortex of darkness while percussive sparkles transmute into frozen mist. String synthesizers and phaser organs whoosh across the stereo spectrum, bringing kosmische atmospheres yet again…though this time evoking the earliest days...think Schulze’s Cyborg and Tangerine Dream’s Zeit. Arps dance star-to-star, pads evoking oboes and bassoons swoon through heart-wrenching descents, ghosts scream amidst fields of cyborg computations, and seabirds fly through the celestial ether, with wing motions causing ripples of laser light to spread in every direction. As well, during particularly spellbinding moments, tremolo picked guitars howl into the void, causing my mind to drift towards Manuel Gottsching and those early Ash Ra Temple B-sides. Sound for Gardening ends with “Dark Clouds Above the Roses” and its flutey bubbles, rattling percussion fx, and shards of sonic ice cycling in a sea of abstraction…with everything modulating in ways that defy logic. Sequential synth patterns skip across clouds as the track evolves into funereality, with tambourines clicking through pools of reverberation and kick drums stomping into the night. It’s a magisterial dirge for forgotten seafloor kingdoms….a sad yet radiant waltz through a paradise of shadow and sorrow…with synthesizers joining together for massive melodies of solar melancholy. The sparse rhythms drop away at times in favor of polysynth prog leads and later, ethnological hand drums bop through bodies of water as star-crystal electronics play schmalzy melodies of new age spirituality. There’s a touch of Vangelis to it all…of floating off towards a cinematic horizon, with ominous clouds gathering and somatic arps filtering sofly amidst the subsuming atmospheres of dreamtime romance.

(image from my personal copy)

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 301: Pascal Viscardi

I first came to the music of Pascal Viscardi via the Nero di Seppia 7”, which Periodica Records put out at the start of 2018. The release was marvel, even by Periodica’s usually stellar standards, and saw Viscardi merging esoteric ambient textures and spiritual ocean sonics with strands of Floydian space funk and West Hill-style futurescape boogie.  Next came the Arcipelago 12”, also on Periodica, which amplified the dancefloor vibrations while reveling in humid tropical synthesis, syncopated machine rhythms, tripped out dub textures, and ethnological percussions source from Mali. Both releases have cemented the artist as a true favorite, so I was overjoyed to learn a few weeks ago that Viscardi was releasing a mini-LP, this time on Born, that new and Saft-related imprint responsible for this year’s loving reissue of Joan Bibiloni’s Born. Titled Lluvia de Verano, the album sees the artist furthering his explorations of mystical island atmospherics and interstellar dubfunk exotics while adding in psychedelic voice textures, Wally Badarou references, and featuring yet another dazzling display of world percussion that includes seed shakers and coconut maracas from Bali. And as evidenced by the back cover, Viscardi employs an envious array of analog synthesizers, old skool samplers, and drum machines past and present to guide the listener through his cosmo-balearic body dance wonderland. What’s more, Paula Tape appears and transforms Viscardi’s equatorial idiophone grooves into a deeper than deep slice of sensual house while psychotropic dub master androo presents a two part zoner epic.

Pascal Viscardi - Lluvia de Verano (Born Records, 2019) “Lluvia de Verano” sees vivacious hand drums slapping over a methodical kick beat, with shakers both machine generated and organic adding to the building groove panorama. Percussive mallet patterns splash through the air and lasers blast across the mix, bringing with them dancing balafon and marimba exotics. Everything is mesmerically layered and what was once a bare percussive ritual evolves into a kaleidoscopic slice of balearic beat…the vibe expressive, warm, and deeply drugged out. Acid synths stab and tubular squarewave basslines push the body towards dancefloor bliss while hats and tapped cymbals add touches of disco heat. Glowing synthetic melodies hover like a hallucination as Viscardi and Anissa Charef whisper variations of the track title, their voices sensual and stimulating…like a lover’s breath on the back of the neck. Seed shakers flying through the mix mimicking swarms of locusts, aqueous electronics float in place before dispersing, and radiant melodics call out to the spirit of the sun, eventually joined by string synthesizers that glow in sunrise colorations as they melt the heart into a paradise swoon. Blasts of thunder are heard in the distance and warm tropical breezes surround dial tone tracers in the style of Eddie C while elsewhere, virtual pan-pipes play mystical new age spiritualisms amidst ethno-drum jam outs. At some point we break down into sparse percussive wonderment, with cowbells and rimshots interspersed between thunder cracks, bursting acid bubbles, and emotional string cascades…a moment of calm within the eye of an ocean storm. And as the exotica-inflected dubfunk groove out returns, idiophones splash like water on rainforest vegetation and creatures of the jungle gyrate beneath the sky as it rains down a futuristic soundbath of equatorial mesmerism.

Shakers accent a city-leveling kick in Paula Tape’s remix of the title track, with those telephone tracers smothered in spectral noise. After a brief rhythmic pause, the producer drops one of the year’s best basslines, all ultra-jacking acidic fire that pushes the body towards ecstasy. The mix is suffused by rainbow waveforms as Viscardi’s tropical melodies are repurposed into shadowy textures of drug euphoria, with everything trailing through infinite reverb layers, and Paula Tape completely transforms the original’s vocals…her orgasmic repetitions of “lluvia de verano / ven conmigo / summer rain / come with be” evoking some mysterious star-maiden speaking universal secrets (and thus recalling Rosi Müller’s collaborations with The Cosmic Jokers). The deep house incantations are helped along by cracking snare rolls, hand drum exotics, and shuffling hi-hat hypnotics as dreamy recollections of Viscardi’s idiophonics are introduced…like a splash of tropical warmth amidst the zoned out dancefloor ritualism. And during crucial moments, the basslines pull away, leaving tapped kicks, future jazz textures, and electro-clap panoramas to float through the cosmos before Paula Tape returns us to the late night body dance ceremonial. “Guided by a White Light” begins with guiro scrapes and a treble soundbath, before evolving into a reverbated shuffle…like sunset lounge exotica meeting new age cabana jazz. Chime strands glisten like diamonds, mallet lullabies rain from the sky, mermaid choirs sing from fantasy islands, and birdsong transmutes into hallucinatory feedback while psychosonic dub fx generate a dreamspace aura. Elsewhere, e-pianos radiate beautiful tones of ocean crystal and mystical fusion leads sing towards horizon...their sounds sourced from some futuristic wood flute that recalls Viscardi’s “Scogliera”.

Cymbals skitter and hand drums decay through sea-spray in “La Chemise Versace,” while Viscardi layers the background with bird chirps and sea duck squawks. An equatorial disco cruise emerges, kissed by touches of island magic, with white noise wisps swirling around futuristic funkbass sunshine and massive 80s-style snares cracking on the beat. Cosmic synthesizers intertwine with seascape electronics in direct reference to Badarou’s “Endless Race,” which are sometimes supported by blistering chords and sweltering pad layers…all while mallet instruments shimmer in the background. Cool ocean breezes carry coral colored gemstones, wah-wah electronics swell together, and child-like tropicalisms pan around the stereo field, with the drums sometimes morphing into a nervous stutter before snapping back into paradise jam euphoria. And the ever present field recordings add to the immersion, inviting the mind to picture seagulls swooping over deep blue waters while colorful crabs dance across white sand beaches. Next is “Paramarimbo,” where entrancing electronic textures flutter across the spectrum. Hi-hats and hand drums build a strange rhythm before effortlessly transitioning into a four-four glide, wherein skronking bass synths underly heatwave chords while mediterranean wavefronts arc through the air. A lackadaisical disco pulse anchors it all…uptempo, infectious, yet supremely doped out…with joyous clap patterns and jangling tambourines swam around by aquatic tracers and siren squiggles. Reggae chords drip soulful island magic as everything wiggles and writhes, with white light synthesis joining in with fusion leads as they scat on sunbeams, all quivering sexual energy and equatorial wonderment intertwining amidst starlight feedback trails and a melodic polyrhythm panorama.

Guiros, shakers, and jaguar breaths introduce androo’s remix of “Guided Dub, Chapitre 1 & 2,” with hand drums popping through reverb caverns. Ghostly pianos work above airy riddims, dub chords echo through the jungle nightscape, and sub-bass synths move with liquid jazz majesty while science fiction whistles smear into a cubist haze. At certain moments, the drum layers devolve through bit crushed ring modulators and malfunctioning phase shifters, with the vibe growing increasingly alien. Everything eventually fades out into hovering chords, animalistic howls, and scraping drum textures…the vibe uncertain and anxious until the groove shambles back in, less defined than before...as if constructed from gas. Water droplets are threaded into fractal strands, feedback flutes scat through free jazz mutations, and dub echoes are subverted into psychosonic madness, while in a moment of pure inspiration, androo drops a brief yet utterly perfect brass synth progression…an eerie moment of melancholic reggae magic amidst the shifting rhythm fever dream. “Pianeta Bongo” ends the album with a slow and low tropical future-freak zone out, as jacking clap patterns and pounding West Hill-style boogie basslines join in with stoned out machine rhythms and beachside bongo accents. Marimbas splash through tidepools and a xylophonic rain falls over the mix while vocalized synthesizers dance…almost talkbox like and soaked in neon atmosphere. Low slung basslines groove endlessly, bell-tones wash out into an aqueous haze, and gemstone fusion electronics weave spaceage harmonies, with mid-bass squelches firing in counterpoint. It’s a world of tropical delirium and esoteric psychedelia, made all the more hallucinatory by an uncredited appearance from Enrico Fierro, whose erotic whispers and creepy vocalizations, as well as Charef's, push the mind even further towards a fever dream trance state.

(images from my personal copy)

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 198: Lucas Croon

The newest release from Themes for Great Cities is Ascona and comes from a longtime contributor to the label, Lucas Croon. It’s hard to overstate how much I like Lucas’ sound, especially his incredibly adventurous band Stabil Elite (whose 2012 album Douze Pouze is one of my favorites as well as perhaps one of the best post-70’s krautrock-style albums ever created). And though he has put out a lot of great and exploratory music through that band and his BAR project with Christina Irrgang, he’s been far less prolific as a solo artist, having prior to Ascona only released the Schlachthof Aufnahmen EP. In contrast to the delirious downtempo, feverish ambient, and exotic psychedelia of that record, this newest one has its mind on the cosmic, especially the A-side and its euphoria dreamscapes and spaced out dancefloor journeys. The B-side, though still suffused with interstellar energy, heads more towards paradise beaches and deep ocean dreamscapes, as atmospheres of sun-soaked balearica intermingle with crystalline waves of fantasy dub. And though it’s all so gliding and spaced out (thanks in no small part of fellow Stabil Elite member Timo Hein’s bass guitar work), the arrangements and movements are rather complex, with each track morphing and mutating seamlessly through a range of far-out soundworlds.

Lucas Croon - Ascona (Themes for Great Cities, 2018) “Ascona” comes to life on breaky kicks and tropical hand drums, with pads wavering in the air and shakers moving all around. Percolating pan-pipe melodies overlay a seaside rhythm world led by softly hissing hi-hats and cosmic sparkles and eventually, swelling pad vapors bring in a massive bassline, which jacks things out into realms of pure propulsion in that Clifford White “Lifestream” kind of way. The cymbals swing hypnotically over soaring kick patterns and pull the body into the galactic flow as epic melodies of synthesized fire dance polyrhythmically against the sprightly pan-pipes. Immersive balearic strings create an oceanic dreamscape under the stars as the bass cuts away, while gated tom fills blast through the mix. And once the basslines smash back in, it’s all so hypnotic and energetic, especially as the song has somehow managed to effortlessly transition from spaced out electro into cosmic disco. The paradise rhythm glide is colored over by darting strings and melodies of interstellar heartache…like dreamwaves gliding on shooting stars and cruising the cosmos on clouds of rainbow gas while funk-echo percolations dance through an alien jungle of neon frogs and laser light reflections.

“Ethnxman” follows with double and triple time hi-hats flowing alongside tribal tom cascades and dark sensuous house beats. Heatwave pads swell and wash over the mind before locking into breathy pulsations as distorted loon songs, squiggling electronics, and acidic blips dance through the stereo field. Timo Hein’s sultry basslines hold down exotica grooves…dark, enchanting, and jamming out through a jungle of dreams while muted synth riffs and forest flutes bubble over tropical and mist shrouded string orchestrations. Hand drums glide and radiant drone textures break like waves of an interstellar ocean while gaseous acid textures are smeared into a psychedelic haze…their extreme resonances and spellbinding filter movements shimmering in the sky as the kick drums pull away and as aching strings swell then detune. When the kick drum returns, it leads a ritualistic dance of low slung bass guitar incantations and immersive rhythm webs that vibrate beneath muted birdcalls and swinging synth-flute leads. And as crazed lasers fire throughout the mix, dramatic snare rolls bring in epic vibes of classic space disco…with resonant Hi-NRG blasts riding alongside hypno-hats while cosmic layers of dance floor magic intertwine. Fantasy synths and rainforest woodwinds float on mellifluous pad orchestrations as they move through cascades of distortion and rapid fire modulations and at the end of the track, squelching percussive fx, looping bird conversations, and chiming synth metals give way to a panorama of hand drums, space forest atmospherics, and four-four kicks.

The stuttering kick drums of “Nachtcafé” are surrounded by equatorial conga and bongo clouds, while breathy pan-pipes drift aside bright mediterranean synth melodies that seem to skip across crystal blue waves. Fiery and funked out synthbass lines chug upwards as shakers, maracas, and tambourines give flavors of Latin fantasy, the track eventually developing into a low down samba shake through a starry paradise. The hand drums grow ever more colorful and active as they weave ritualistic polyrhythms while sweltering brass textures blast behind the island dream melodies and cutting snare rolls flash in from other dimensions. At some point the bright tonal atmosphere recede, leaving kaleidoscopic drum layers to work themselves into a tropical disco pulse that supports Timo’s snaking bass sorcery. The rhythm section jams out beneath harmonious layers of ambiance…like a slowly morphing body of golden light emanating phasercloud euphoria until Lucas moves us into a wondrous fusion solo, all blazing yet gentle synthwaves soaring through the stars and backed by softly fried oscillations (think Yuji Toriyama). As we cruise towards the end, the track drops into a percussive section where the basslines bounce and snake  through a fever dream. And as the hand drums vibrate mesmerically, cinematic reggae stabs intertwine with echo-blasts of strings and brass while squelching bass synths work against Timo’s liquid funkchug riffs.

The sunshine dub vibes hit even hard with “S.W.E.D,” which comes across like a slow motion skank on the surface of a boundless sea. Sickly sweet organ tones skip above scatting aqua-riffs and hypnotic riddim worlds, while the smooth funk bass fluids intermingle with spaced out acid squelches. Beautiful delay cascades surround the mix in that Rhythm & Sound kind of way, while sonics tracers ride echowaves towards the horizon. And the track transitions even further into the light as dreamy paradise guitar licks, hazy brass synths, and tropical fx flutters dance together on sunbeams. Once we return to the melancholic dub sway, wailing organs rain down for another solar dance before giving way to an extended section of deep drum and bass ritualism and dub delay hypnotism, wherein bouncing audial layers float on cosmic currents as everything seems to oscillate and time-morph. Then the track blasts once more through a euphoric landscape of glowing reggae enchantment where guitars dance barefoot in the sand while alien brass synths stab out over laid back yet vibrant beat flows. It then ends with an extended sunshine dance through a world of ecstatic visions, as blissed out melodics evoke laughter and light...the whole thing evoking some sort of soundtrack for an eternal beachside party. And once the uplifting dub dance magic fades away, rainforest field recordings entrance the mind back to earthly realms.

(images from my personal copy)

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 162: Motohiko Hamase

Motohiko Hamase is an unsung legend of the 70s jazz and funk scenes in Japan, having spent time crafting sensual bass grooves with towering figures such as Mikio Masuda and Isao Suzuki. After moving towards world music, new age, and minimalism during the early 80s, Motohiko joined with the Shi Zen label in 1986 to release a pair of underrated yet fascinating albums entitled Intaglio and Reminiscence. The sounds here move through spiritual minimalism, ambient forest jazz, majestic orchestral passages, dissonant noise clusters, and jamming fusion dreamscapes, with breathtaking compositions filled with unexpected transitions and rushes of symphonic power. It’s all the more impressive considering that Motohiko is mostly working alone, with occasional help from Toshio Kaji and in the case of Reminiscence, Akira Doi on drums. As with most things obscure, new age, exotic, and from 1980s Japan, the original vinyl is rare and expensive so it’s very fortunate that Studio Mule have stepped in to bring Motohiko’s magical music back into the light. But curiously, rather than simply remastering or even remixing, the albums have both been re-recorded, with a few songs omitted and some new ones making an appearance. Toshio Kaji is here once again, though Akira Doi has been replaced by Yoh-ichi Okabe on percussion for Reminiscence. As well, the re-recording gives Motohiko a chance to reimagine the compositions using his six-string fretless bass guitar crafted by Jan Knooren back in 1996. But even re-recorded, restructured, and with a new percussionist and bass, the vibe remains faithful and true to the originals, with wonder and adventure suffusing every single second.

Motohiko Hamase - Intaglio (Studio Mule, 2018) At first, “Circlet” builds a world of woodwind repetitions, swelling orchestral vapors, bowed cello fantasies, and layered marimbas like water dropping into a glistening pound. Pastel hued sonic constellations intertwine as pointillist flutes dash in and out until a dramatic transition brings us into a world of hypnotic e-pianos and warm sensual bass guitar soloing. The faraway romance vibes are enhanced by cellos and headspinning idiophones yet contrasted by ominous horror string swells, but eventually the heavier atmospherics fade away, leaving sparkling webs of minimalist sunshine and fusion bass explorations. “Rain Calls for Bird” is the sole piece composed by Toshio Kaji, wherein delirious layers of flute and pan-pipe are transmuted into birdsong. The vibe is like moving through a colorful jungle at hyperspeed, with amorphous orchestral bodies of light surrounding bass thuds and spiritual synthetic choirs. until zany idiophonic electronics move in, their rapid sequences joined by Toshio Kaji’s free jazz piano waterfalls. Violins dash around atonal solo mesmerism from Motohiko’s six string bass and massive swells of sound intercut and grow more intense alongside twinkling sequences. But eventually we return to the birdsong and flute tapestries, though hovering pads and fretless bass solos now accompany. And there’s a heavenly outro of slow moving crystalline arcs and dramatic swells that kiss the sky.

In “Lung,” militant cut-up drums pound away and backwards swelling synths lead to crazed saxophone psychedelia. Minimalist and madcap sax layerings are similar to Yasuaki Shimizu’s Kakashi and the sounds are like a lung, only made of iron and malfunctioning, with each breath bringing brass delirium, crushing drums, and liquid FM synths that teleport back and forth between alien dimensions. Somewhere in the middle of this pounding sax ceremonial sits a bucolic meadow of marimba magic as multi-tracked mallet instruments waver like an infinite sea of grass blowing in the wind. And as usual, Motohiko enters with an emotive bass performance, all sensual, transportive, and supported by string swells running in reverse. “Symptom” follows with vibrato viols rising and falling, glockenspiel serenades, and bell-tone pianos mic’d so close you can hear the sound of the hammers hitting the strings. Prismatic harps rain down and ominous orchestral swells are tracked by wiggly bass guitar pyrotechnics, while colorful flutes evoke the song of a curious bird…eyes wide, head cocked, perplexed by the intense and kaleidoscopic layers of classical jazz fusion.

Vibraphones, marimbas, and FM bells work the mind into ecstasy during “Elan Vital,” supported below by deep brass bubbles and euphoric string rushes. Massive pianos seem to fall from the sky as they drop powerful chords of moonlit beauty and the dazzling dance of harps and wandering bass guitar features impressive hammer-ons and sliding liquid movements. A brief breakdown of hypnotic idiophone propulsion leads back into the sensual jazz bass performance and the moon bathed streaks of silvery string orchestrations…everything locking into a fantastical bliss out with a vaguely sad air before a dazzling outro of exotic harp shimmer and mallet hallucinations. “Aborigine” has a wild spirit, with organic percussion flowing into electro drum splatter. The rhythms are tribal yet futuristic as they move according to a strange and unknowable logic, with crusted static and dripping pools of noise surrounding everything. Wobbling woodwinds move with an air of spiritual jazz while synths traverse LSD mirages and it all comes together like the fusion of Miles Davis abstracted into primitive groove exotica. And though there has been plenty of bass guitar soloing so far, this is the first time Motohiko gets to ride over a defined rhythm and the small amount of structure does wondrous things for his adventurous prog spells…using his bass to explore underwater caves and mountains in the clouds.

We close on the title track, where rainfall harps are intimately recorded, so that the fragile string plucks decay out over beautiful flowing marimbas. Over top, gorgeous gusts of woodwind melodics blow, with clarinets and oboes moving together yet sounding like they come from an entirely different song. A crashing and near industrial rhythm is cut-up and transformed into a barely there drum plod giving shape to the airy melodies of faraway enchantment, with gun fire kicks splashing through puddles of noise, toms pushing against the skull, and bouncing bass synths mimicking the gurgling voices of shadow spirits. It’s an enigmatic canvas over which Motohiko paints his soft bass guitar lullabies, supported by cinematic woodwinds skipping through fields of flowers and alien mallet instruments moving through dense clouds of ring modulation. As we progress towards the end, the wonderland flutes seem to spread out, growing ever dreamier and more gaseous while twinkling pianos move through the ever present fog of spellbinding harp transcendence.

Motohiko Hamase - Reminiscence (Studio Mule, 2018) Starlit music boxes introduce “Childhood” as softly boiling strings take their time to swell into life over feathery toms. Cascading marimbas and hand drums from Yoh-Ichi Okabe are disturbed by massive percussion smashes and all the while, strings waver and woodwinds generate oscillating delirium. It’s the score for a detective film on a jungle planet, as twinkling metallic melodies of exotic beauty float on cloudy strings currents. There are heavenly key changes and long-form melodies evolving in slow motion, with layered orchestrations occupying all free space in the mix. And Motohiko adds in a transportive fretless bass solo evoking starry nights by the sea…an air of mystery suffusing through the warm coastal wind…as streetlights flicker and starlight shimmers in the form of thrilling harp runs. “Intermezzo” sees Motohiko using his bass to sing dazzling wordless jazz lullabies over horn swells and tablas locked into a polyrhythmic conversation with sequenced marimba colorations. Mystical and mysterious harp runs are overlaid by dissonant brass clusters, chimes and bells sound as if heard through an LSD haze, and the whole piece cycles between modes of youthful wonder and hues of dark enchantment. During a climax where hand drums explode like fireworks, horns blast in staccato patterns, and marimbas move like a an oscillating thread of jewels, Motohiko mixes a sense of unhinged adventurism with his typically smooth playing and tone…the warm fuzziness of the recording belying the mental madness progressing across the fretboard.

In “Tree,” lush pianos flow like a celestial river as birds sit and sing overheard in a tree made of light. Their song comes off like sprightly woodwinds and all the while, dark shadows of large sea creatures move below the water, occasionally coming to the surface and generating deep bass percussion waves as they breach. Wind rustles through the tree leaves and tapestries of sleigh bells and snake rattles hover in place until the meditative scene is disturbed by crashing drum bombosity from Yoh-Ichi. It’s a vaporous plod built from jangling bells and airy hand drums with bass guitars weaving patterns of deep harmony above it all and sometimes dipping down into thumping low end magic. Tablas drop drum fluidity alongside gorgeous wood flute descents and there is so much otherworldly beauty swirling all around. At the conclusion of the track, we return to that gorgeous glowing tree sitting over the peacefully flowing currents of colorful water as birds continue to sing and the spirit is wrapped in warm currents of ivory.

“Reminiscence” starts in a renaissance fair, as woodwinds weave medieval melodies and are moved below by wiggling synth textures. New age mermaids swim through the mix according to their own dream logic, creating contrasting waves of ambiance supporting the airy percussion. There are strange transitions with the mathematical precision and bombosity of 70’s prog rock, only here played on a palette of indigenous acoustic instruments. Elsewhere, we dance drunkenly through a humid jungle with pale light raining down and sickly sweet perfumes causing vague hallucinations…a world of shimmering metal, cavernous drums, and nervous stuttering fire allowing extra-terrestrial melodies to move in and out of phase in conjunction with fluttering brass and woodwind spells. “Water Meadow” sees Motohiko joined again by Toshio Kaji on piano, and spacious drones evoke the titular water meadow…a sort of glowing blue swamp with galactic drones moving through the smothering fog. Mellifluous pianos are transformed into post-classical wanderings while string synths blow into the mix, bringing a sinister beauty. Harps move in psychedelic circles and symphonic orchestrations swell in, overtake the mix, then recede, revealing soft bass guitar solos and gaseous vibraphones. Disturbing ambient spirals loop into oscillating delay clouds and piano chords work up the scale, growing ever more frenetic as the orchestrations build again in strength. They eventually shroud almost everything, with just banging pianos and starshine metals breaking through the supernova symphony.

The piccolo flute leading “Doll” is at once playful and melancholic and is backed with lively harmonizing strings that occasionally work against the flow with gentle dissonance. Yoh-ichi’s forest drums underly gleaming layers of tambourines, bells, triangles, and snake rattles as pizzicato strings dance in the background ether, supported by bowed atmospheres of mirth. Subdued and shambolic drums fall over meditative oboes and clarinets while string textures vibrate in and out of inter-dimensional wormholes and the drums continue to crash against the very fabric of existence alongside towering strings bowed with a sense of malevolence. Imagine thunderstorms over a boiling black sea as ancient spirits drop exotic melodies deep from within the maelstrom. “No Mo Ce” is another piece penned by Toshio Kaji and features breathy bamboo flutes and mystical rainbow minimalism. It’s a polyrhythmic looping paradise of rainforest idiophones and jungle mallet instruments swam underneath by deep baritone brass bubbles as flutes maneuver with an infectious sense of life and harmonious synth drones fade in, sounding like angelic polysynths dreaming of the sea. Chimes glimmer within a cascade of sparkling crystals and Motohiko’s fretless bass works itself into an ecstatic fusion panorama while flute and sax lock into further Yasuaki Shimizu-style hypnosis cycles.

(images from my personal copy)