#I want Arthur to play the cosmic piano | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lyrker · 2 years ago

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THE “KAYNE IS ARTHUR FROM ANOTHER UNIVERSE” THEORY

Okay so me and @donutpenguins were listening to “Dream Sweet in Sea Major” and thinking about how Harlan said this song reminded him of Kayne, and thus reminded us about our theory of Kayne being Arthur but from another universe. Thus, we examined every lyric and spawned the most nonsensical, stretched theory of all time.

The Theory is that Kayne is Arthur from a different universe who lost his John and died after Coda with nobody to save him.

The following is an analysis of the song Dream Sweet in Sea Major to accompany the theory (: its such a stretch it might as well be an AU , might genuinely write smth on this.

“Alone at the edge of a universe humming a tune

For merely dreaming we were snow”

Kayne, alone, WITHOUT John. Hes dreaming he and John are back together.

“A siren sounds like the goddess who

Promises endless apologies of paradise

And only she can make it right

So things are different tonight

We'll go together in flight”

The call of the sirens is John, and the millions of voices in his head are the attempts to get John back. Only she can make it right, only His John can make it right. Things are different tonight is Kayne watching Arthur and John break the narrative and hoping he can break his. We’ll go together in flight is him following them around.

“It's now and never

A reverie endeavor

Awaits somnambulant directives

To take the helm”

A reverie endeavor means daydreaming about wanting to do something. It’s now that Kayne can do what he’s been dreaming to do; get his John back. This dream is in the hands of Arthur and John, who broke the narrative. Somnambulant directives is John and Arthur and their actions.

“Believe me, darling

The stars were made for falling”

The line Life is Loss seems to pop in our head here.

“Like melting obelisks

As tall as another realm”

Don’t know what “melting obelisks” mean but “tall as another realm” is a reference to the Dreamlands.

“Un ensemble d'enfants” (a group of children)

this is John and Arthur we know.

“La galaxie s'étend” (the galaxy extends)

The alternate universes.

“Jardin de l'imagination” (garden of imagination)

This connects back to the dreams and daydreams prominent in the story.

“Combler la lacune” (bridging the gap)

This is Kayne trying to figure out where his John went.

“Voler face à la lune” (skating past the moon)

Skating past whatever fate they had ?

“Vois comme nous évoluons” (watch as we evolve)

The process of Kayne becoming who he is now.

“It feels like flying

But maybe we're dying”

No idea

“A cosmic confluence of

Pyramids hologrammed”

cosmic confluence is the merging of Kayne into Arthur and Johns universe. Pyramids hologrammed is like the plot points weaved together, like Arthur, John, and Kayne’s stories weaving together. It can also mean the endeavors they cross are all part of a preordained narrative.

“She knows you heard her

Staging music murder

In line before the show began

To be where I am”

This is the scene where we first meet Kayne and he is playing the piano, Kayne waiting for them, arriving first before Arthur and John.

“Children born of one emotion”

In reference to Arthur and John, as stated earlier in relation to children next to Kayne. Emotion might be fear, leading them on their journey.

“Our devotion's deepest ocean

No division reasoned we'll be free”

Their devotion for each other is deep that by this point who knows if they even want to be separated anymore. I really enjoy the journey from “let’s get separated” to “i’m sorry for leaving you for so long.”

It can also be that nothing really seems to imply that they could even separate (happily without the King) in the first place, at least, not until Kayne joins the fray.

“To know

We are beyond a bow”

Bow represents a rainbow and rainbows represent happiness especially during a dark time. The rainbow is Arthur’s life before John.

“And lo, the hues arrange to show

It's perfectly clear”

Hues arranging is Arthur slowly revealing his past.

These can parallel also with Kayne and maybe his experiences with his John.

“You look quite divine tonight

Here among these vibrant lights

Pure delights surround us as we sail

Signed, yours truly, the whale”

“Joy mirage's kingdom come”

The Dreamworld ? Joy mirage is madness, a delusion. Kayne is imagining a world where he and his John are back together, his kingdom.

“No one left at stake”

This throws back to Arthur’s line saying “I cant lose another person.” In theory, Kayne would not have John, and therefore nobody is left for him. He might as well do whatever he wants.

“Now that existence is on the wake

Let's see what we can make”

If Kayne’s story ended at Coda, this is him in the process of becoming the seemingly immortal being he is now, interfering with Arthur and Johns universe to “see what he can make.”

“The part is wholly ending

A line in any final song

So long, so far”

This references Coda and that Kayne’s story is ending after so long. A line in any final song deals with the weight that music seems to hold in the entirety of Malevolent. His song ended with a goodbye and dying in the cold.

“We will be atoning

At last eternal through the past

Above a blinding star”

This is Kayne dreaming of he and his John making amends and being together again ?

“Bye, hi

Sigh, Hawaii

We never meant to part

Sublime, thy art”

“we never meant to part” is referencing Kayne and his John. “Sublime thy art” is perhaps Kayne thinking that what he’s doing is incredible, beautiful, reuniting him and his best friend.

“One light

Higher than the sun

Invisible to some

Until it's time”

The sun is the King in Yellow, and the one light is Kayne.

“Invisible to some Until it’s time” is the unknown fact that Kayne is just Arthur from another universe and it’s not known or even thought about by this universes John and Arthur and will only be seen when Kayne feels it’s time, whenever that may be.

Extra drabble:

-Kayne’s power comes from fucking around and finding out to find John. Kayne doesn’t have much impact until Coda. Here, Kayne’s story ended and he never got his John back, lying in the snow bleeding out. Kayne gives Arthur John back, likely completely messing up the narrative and changing the preordained destiny.

-If Kayne is trying to get his John back it makes sense that he would go to such lengths. Maybe he chipped away for eons at the King in Yellow and it drove him mad, making him how he is now with thousands of voices in his head and a manic aura about him.

-There’s also the fact that Arthur dies once before and is brought back by the wraith. The next time he is brought back from death is when Kayne himself revived him, which is after Coda and theoretically after he messed up the narrative.

-Kayne doesn’t even seem to be his real name, since when Arthur asked, he said something akin to “Kayne, let’s go with that,” as if it isn’t his actual name.

#this is just a whole au honestly #might make a fic off of this idea #i really love this idea none of you but dee understand holy shit #YES this is so stretched YES we know YES ITS FUNNY #anyway #ask us about it we’ll probably talk about it if you ask.#malevolent #malevolent podcast #lyrker unlurks: malevolent #donutideas

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dustedmagazine · 3 years ago

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Dusted Mid-Year Round-Up: Part 2, Dr. Pete Larson to Young Slo-Be

James Brandon Lewis

The mid-year exchange continues with the second half of the alphabet and another round of Dusted writers reviewing other people’s favorite records. Today’s selection runs the gamut from Afro-beat to hip hop to experimental music and includes some of this year’s best jazz records. Check out part one if you missed it yesterday.

Dr. Pete Larson and His Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band — Damballah (Dagoretti Records)

Damballah by Dr. Pete Larson and his Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band

Who Picked it? Mason Jones

Did we review it? No, but Jennifer Kelly said about his previous record, “It’s authentic not to some musicological conception of what nyatiti music should sound like, but to the instincts and proclivities of the musicians involved.”

Bryon Hayes’ take:

Judging from Jenny’s review, Dr. Pete Larson hasn’t really changed his modus operandi much since last year’s self-titled release. Well, he has appeared to have dropped vocalist Kat Steih and drummer Tom Hohman, who aren’t credited with an appearance on Damballah. Sonically, this album feels more polished than its predecessor. There’s a richness that was lacking before, a sense of clarity that Larson seems to have added here. He still hypnotizes with his nyatiti but doesn’t lose himself behind the other players. That sense of mesmerizing repetition of short passages on the resonant lute-like instrument is what sets the music of the Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band apart from other rock groups who play in the psychedelic vein. It’s easy to get lost in the intricate plucking patterns as the guitars and synths swirl about. The rhythms bounce cleverly against those created by the percussion, anchoring the songs to solid ground. Balancing the airy and the earthy, Dr. Peter Larson and His Cytotoxic Nyatiti Band create a cosmic commotion perfect for contemplation.

James Brandon Lewis / Red Lily Quintet — Jesup Wagon (TAO Forms)

Jesup Wagon by James Brandon Lewis / Red Lily Quintet

Who recommended it? Derek Taylor

Did we review it? Yes, Derek said, ��’Fallen Flowers’ and ‘Seer’ contain sections of almost telepathic convergence, the former and the closing ‘Chemurgy’ culminating in Lewis’ spoken words inculcating the import of his subject.”

Tim Clarke’s take:

Tenor saxophonist and composer James Brandon Lewis demonstrates his control of the instrument in the opening moments of Jesup Wagon’s title track. Before his Red Lily Quintet bandmates join the fray, he alternates between hushed ululations and full-blooded honks, inviting the listener to lean in conspiratorially. Once the rest of the band fire up, cornet player Kirk Knuffke, bassist William Parker, cellist Chris Hoffman and drummer Chad Taylor lock into a loose, muscular shuffle. Their collective chemistry is immediately evident, and each player has the opportunity to shine across this diverse set’s 50-minute runtime. I’m particularly drawn to the rapid-fire rhythmic runs on “Lowlands of Sorrow,” the gorgeous cello on “Arachis,” and the spacious, mbira-laced “Seer.” There’s something about the mournful horn melody of the final piece, “Chemurgy,” that sends me back to first hearing Ornette Coleman’s “Lonely Woman” — and, just like that, I’m excited about the prospect of exploring jazz again, for the first time in a long time. Great pick, Derek.

Roscoe Mitchell & Mike Reed — The Ritual And The Dance (Astral Spirits)

the Ritual and the Dance by Roscoe Mitchell & Mike Reed

Who recommended it? Derek Taylor

Did we review it? Yes, Derek wrote, “Roscoe Mitchell remains an improvisational force to be reckoned with.”

Andrew Forell’s take:

For 17-plus minutes, Roscoe Mitchell solos on his soprano with barely a pause, the rush of notes powered by circular breathing, as drummer Mike Reed’s controlled clatter counterpoints Mitchell’s exploration of his instrument’s range and tonal qualities in what sounds like a summation of his long career at the outer edge of jazz. It‘s an extraordinary beginning to this performance, recorded live in 2015. On first listen it sounds chaotic, but shapes emerge in Mitchell’s sound, and Reed’s combination of density and silence complements, punctuates and supports in equal measure. After an incisive solo workout from Reed combining clanging metal and rolling toms, Mitchell swaps to tenor and the pace changes. Longer, slower notes, a rougher, reed heavy tone and a lighter touch from Reed. Having not closely followed Mitchell’s work since his days in The Art Ensemble Of Chicago, this performance was a revelation and will have me searching back through his catalog.

The Notwist — Vertigo Days (Morr Music)

Vertigo Days by The Notwist

Who recommended it? Tim Clarke

Did we review it? Yes, Tim said, “The Notwist really know how to structure a front-to-back listening experience, and this is emphatically a work of art best appreciated as a whole.”

Arthur Krumins’ take:

In his review of Vertigo Days, Tim Clarke highlights the “multiple layers of drifting, shifting instrumentation.” It is an album that seems unbound by adherence to a set instrument lineup, and it moves quickly between moods both frenetic and contemplative. However, due to a careful mixing and an unforced approach to genre expectations, it is a surprising and varied listen that bears repeated scrutiny. The touchstones of the sound are at times the motorik beat of krautrock, at others the ethereal indie pop of their melodies and the quality of their singing. It feels like the perfect quirky coffee shop album, just out there enough to create a vibe, but tactful enough to take you along for the ride.

Dorothea Paas — Anything Can’t Happen (Telephone Explosion)

Anything Can't Happen by Dorothea Paas

Who picked it? Arthur Krumins.

Did we review it? No.

Eric McDowell’s take:

In one sense, it’s fair to say that Dorothea Paas’s debut album opens with a false start: A single note sounded and then retreated from, fingers sliding up and down the fretboard with the diffidence of a throat clearing. Yet what gesture could more perfectly introduce an album so marked by uncertainty, vulnerability, and naked self-assessment?

If Anything Can’t Happen is an open wound, it’s a wound Paas willingly opens: “I’m not lonely now / Doing all the things I want to and working on my mind / Sorting through old thoughts.” That doesn’t make the pain any less real — though it does make it more complex. “It’s so hard to trust again / When you can’t even trust yourself,” Paas sings on the utterly compelling title track, her gaze aiming both inward and outward. Elsewhere she admits: “I long for a body closer to mine / But I don’t want to seek, I just want to find.” Instrumentally, Paas and her bandmates manage to temper an inclination toward static brooding with propulsive forward motion, a balance that suits the difficult truth — or better yet, difficult truce — the album arrives at in the climactic “Frozen Window”: “How can I open to love again, like a plant searches for light through a frozen window? / Can I be loved, or is it all about control? / I will never know until I start again.” In the spirit of starting again, Anything Can’t Happen ends with a doubling down on the opening prelude, reprising and extending it — no false start to be found.

Dominic Pifarely Quartet — Nocturnes (Clean Feed)

Nocturnes by Dominique Pifarély Quartet

Who recommended it? Jason Bivins

Did we review it? No

Derek Taylor’s take:

Pifarely and I actually go way back in my listening life, specifically to Acoustic Quartet, an album the French violinist made for ECM as a co-leader with countryman clarinetist Louis Sclavis in 1994. Thirty-something at the time, his vehicle for that venture was an improvising chamber ensemble merging classical instrumentation and extended techniques with jazz and folk derived influences. The results, playful and often exhilaratingly acrobatic, benefited greatly from austere ECM house acoustics. Nearly three decades distant, Nocturnes is a different creature, delicate and darker hued in plumage and less enamored of melody, harmony and rhythm, at least along conventional measures. Drones and other textures are regular elements of the interplay between the leader’s strings, the piano of Antonin Rayon and the sparse braiding and shadings of bassist Bruno Chevillon and drummer Francois Merville. Duos also determine direction, particular on the series of titular miniatures that are as much about space as they are centered in sound. It’s delightful to get reacquainted after so much time apart.

The Reds Pinks & Purples — Uncommon Weather (Slumberland/Tough Love)

Uncommon Weather by The Reds, Pinks & Purples

Who picked it? Jennifer Kelly

Did we review it? Yes, Jennifer said, “Uncommon Weather is undoubtedly the best of the Reds, Pinks & Purples discs so far, an album that is damned near perfect without seeming to try very hard.”

Bill Meyer’s take:

Sometimes a record hits you where you live. Glenn Donaldson’s too polite to do you any harm, but he not only knows where you live, he knows your twin homes away from home, the record store and the club where you measure your night by how many bands’ sets separate you from last call. He knows the gushing merch-table mooches and the old crushes that casually bring the regulars down, and he also knows how to make records just like the ones that these folks have been listening to since they started making dubious choices. Uncommon Weather sounds like a deeply skilled recreation of early, less chops-heavy Bats, and if that description makes sense to you, so will this record.

claire rousay — A Softer Focus (American Dreams Records)

a softer focus by Claire Rousay

Who picked it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? Yes, Bryon Hayes wrote, “These field recordings of the mundane, when coupled with the radiance of the musical elements, are magical.”

Ian Mathers’ take:

In a weird way (because they are very different works from very different artists), A Softer Focus reminds me a bit of Robert Ashley’s Private Parts (The Album). Both feel like the products of deep focus and concentration but wear their rigor loosely, and both feel like beautifully futile attempts to capture or convey the rich messiness of human experience. But although there is a musicality to Private Parts, Ashley is almost obsessed by language and language acts, and even though the human voice is more present than ever in rousay’s work (not just sampled or field recorded, but outright albeit technologically smeared singing on a few tracks) it feels like it reaches to a place in that experience beyond words. The first few times I played it I had moments where I was no longer sure exactly what part of what I was hearing were coming from my speakers versus from outside my apartment, and as beautiful as the more conventional ambient/drone aspects of A Softer Focus are (including the cello and violin heard throughout), it’s that kind of intoxicating disorientation, of almost feeling like I’m experiencing someone else’s memory, that’s going to stay with me the longest.

M. Sage — The Wind Of Things (Geographic North)

The Wind of Things by M. Sage

Who recommended it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? No

Bill Meyer’s take:

Matthew Sage’s hybrid music gets labeled as ambient by default. Sure, it’s gentle enough to be ignorable, but Sage’s combination of ruminative acoustic playing (mostly piano and guitar, with occasional seasoning from reeds, violin, banjo, and percussion) and memory-laden field recordings feels so personal that it’s hard to believe he’d really be satisfied with anyone treating this stuff as background music. But that combination of the placid and the personal may also be The Wind of Things’ undoing since it’s a bit too airy and undemonstrative to make an impression.

Skee Mask — Pool (Ilian Tape)

ITLP09 Skee Mask - Pool by Skee Mask

Who picked it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? No

Robert Ham’s take:

Pool is an appropriate title for the new album by Munich electronic artist Bryan Müller. The record is huge and deep, with its 18 tracks clocking in at around 103 minutes. And Müller has pointedly only released the digital version of Pool through Bandcamp, adding it a little hurdle to fans who just want to pick and choose from its wares for their playlists. Dipping one’s toes in is an option, but the only way to truly appreciate the full effect is to dive on in.

Though Müller filled Pool up with around five years’ worth of material, the album plays like the result of great deliberation. It flows with the thoughtfulness and intention of an adventurous DJ set, with furious breakbeat explosions like “Breathing Method” making way for the languorous ambient track “Ozone” and the unbound “Rio Dub.” Then, without warning, the drum ‘n’ bass breaks kick in for a while.

The full album delights in those quick shifts into new genres or wild seemingly disparate sonic connections happening within the span of a single song. But again, these decisions don’t sound like they were made carelessly. Müller took some time with this one to get the track list just right. But if there is one thread that runs along the entirety of Pool, it is the air of joy that cuts through even its downcast moments. The splashing playfulness is refreshing and inviting.

Speaker Music — Soul-Making Theodicy (Planet Mu)

Soul-Making Theodicy by Speaker Music

Who picked it? Mason Jones

Did we review it? No

Robert Ham’s take:

The process by which DeForrest Brown Jr., the artist known as Speaker Music, created his latest EP sounds almost as exciting as the finished music. If I understand it correctly — and I’m not entirely sure that I do — he created rhythm tracks using haptic synths, a Push sequencer, and a MIDI keyboard, that he sent through Ableton and performed essentially a live set of abstract beats informed by free jazz, trap and marching band. Or as Brown calls them “stereophonic paintings.”

Whatever term you care to apply to these tracks and however they were made, the experience of listening to them is a dizzying one. A cosmic high that takes over the synapses and vibrates them until your vision becomes blurry and your word starts to smear together like fog on a windshield. Listening to this EP on headphones makes the experience more vertiginous if, like I did, you try to unearth the details and sounds buried within the centerpiece track “Rhythmatic Music For Speakers,” a 33-minute symphony of footwork stuttering and polyrhythms. Is that the sound of an audience responding to this sensory overload that I hear underneath it all? Or is that wishful imaginings coming from a mind hungry for the live music experience?

The Telescopes — Songs of Love And Revolution (Tapete)

Songs Of Love And Revolution by the telescopes

Who recommended it? Robert Ham

Did we review it? No.

Andrew Forell’s take:

Songs Of Love And Revolution glides along on murky subterranean rhythms that evoke Mo Tucker’s heartbeat toms backed with thick bowel-shaking bass lines. Somewhere in the murk Stephen Lawrie’s murmured vocals barely surface as he wrings squalls of noise from his guitar to create a dissonant turmoil to contrast the familiarity of what lies beneath. The effect is at once hypnotic and joltingly thrilling, similar to hearing Jesus And Mary Chain for the first time but played a at pace closer to Bedhead. A kind of slowcore shoegaze, its mystery enhanced by what seems deliberately monochrome production that forces and rewards close attention. When they really let go on “We See Magic And We Are Neutral, Unnecessary” it hits like The Birthday Party wrestling The Stooges. So yeah, pretty damn good.

Leon Vynehall — Rare, Forever (Ninja Tune)

Rare, Forever by LEON VYNEHALL

Who recommended it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? No.

Jason Bivins’ take:

I was amused to see Leon Vynehall’s album tucked into the expansive “Unknown genre” non-category. This is, as is often the case with these mid-year exchanges, a bit far afield from the kind of music I usually spin. Much of it is, I suppose, rooted in house music. Throughout these tracks, there are indeed some slinky beats that’ll get you nodding your head while prepping the dinner or while studying in earnest. There’s plenty to appreciate on the level of grooves and patterns, but he closer you listen, the more subversive, sneaky details you notice. The opening “Ecce! Ego!” isn’t quite as brash as the title would suggest, featuring some playfully morphed voices, old school synth patches and snatches of instrumentalism. But after just a couple minutes, vast cosmic sounds start careening around your brainpan while a metal bar drops somewhere in the audial space. Did that just happen? you wonder as the groove continues. Moments of curiosity and even discomfort are plopped down, sometimes as transitions (like the closing vocal announcement on “In>Pin” — “like a moth” — that introduces the echo-canyon of “Mothra”) but usually as head-scrambling curveballs. Startled voices or flutes or subterranean sax bubble up from beneath deep house thrum, then are gone in ways that are arresting and deceptive. I still don’t know what to make of the lounge-y closing to “Snakeskin – Has-Been” or the unexpected drone monolith of “Farewell! Magnus Gabbro.” In its way, Vynehall’s music is almost like what you’d get if Graham Lambkin or Jason Lescalleet made a house record. Pretty rich stuff.

Michael Winter — single track (Another Timbre)

single track by Michael Winter

Who recommended it? Eric McDowell

Did we review it? Not yet!

Mason Jones’ take:

Over its 45 minutes, Michael Winter’s 2015 composition slowly accelerates and accumulates, starting from an isolated violin playing slightly arrhythmic, single fast strokes. The playing, centered around a single root note, seems almost random, but flashes of melodic clusters make it clear they're not. After nine minutes other players have joined in and there's a developing drone, as things sort of devolve, with atonal combinations building. By the one-third mark everything has slowed down significantly, and the players are blending together, with fewer melodies standing out. Instead, it's almost more drone than not; and at a half hour in, most of the strings have been reduced to slowly changing tones. As we near the end we’re hearing beautiful layers of string drones, descending into the final few minutes of nearly static notes. It's an intriguing and oddly listenable composition given its atonality. The early moments bring to mind Michael Nyman, and the later movements summon thoughts of Tony Conrad and La Monte Young, but it's clearly different from any of them, and more than the sum of those parts.

Young Slo-Be — Red Mamba (KoldGreedy Entertainment / Thizzler On The Roof)

youtube

Who picked it? Ray Garraty

Did we review it? No.

Ian Mathers’ take:

The 12 tracks on Red Mamba fly by in a little over 27 minutes (not a one breaks the three-minute mark) but the result doesn’t feel slight so much as pared down to a sharpness you might cut yourself on. Stockon’s Young Slo-Be only seems to have one flow (or maybe it’d be more accurate to say he only seems interested in one) but he knows how to wield it with precision and force, and if the subject matter hews closely to the accepted canon of gangbanger concerns, Slo-Be delivers it all with vivid language and the studied, superior disdain of an older brother explaining the world to you and busting your chops at the same time. The tracks on Red Mamba all come from different producers, but Slo-Be consistently chooses spectral, eerie, foreboding backgrounds for these songs, even when adding piano and church bells (on “Asshole”), dog barks (“21 Thoughts”) or even Godfather-esque strings (the closing “Rico Swavo”). What’s the old line about the strength of street knowledge? These are different streets, and different knowledge.

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theradioghost · 6 years ago

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The Mechanisms

Or, an attempted quasi-masterpost/crash course of content for the gay mythical dieselpunk space pirate band we all deserve in our lives.

The Story

A spacefaring vampire mad scientist and aspiring musican known as Dr. Carmilla once created a group of quasi-mechanical immortals to serve as her backing band. The doc has since has an “accident” with an airlock, but her creations, the Mechanisms, are still driven to perform. So, in their living starship Aurora, they travel the universe, looking for fun if possible, violence when necessary, and hopefully both at once; and performing the stories of what they’ve seen over their long lives.

These stories don’t tend to end happily.

OR, the Mechanisms were a musical cabaret act who performed scifi-genre-mashups which combined spoken-word storytelling and music in queer retellings of myths and fairy tales, in character as a band of morally questionable space pirates. And it’s great.

Crew members included:

Jonny D’Ville, captain first mate and storyteller, former murderous gunslinger with a cold mechanical heart

Ashes O’Reilly, quartermaster and firestarter from the mobster planet Mallone with a pair of mechanical lungs

Drumbot Brian, pilot, launched into space by an uncomprehending world, entirely mechanical except his heart (which now comes with “ends justify means” and “means justify ends” settings)

Gunpowder Tim, master-at-arms, who destroyed the Earth’s moon in the war against the Moon Kaiser three hundred years in the future ago and was given new eyes by the crew

Nastya Rasputina, engineer and last surviving princess (after the Revolution) of the Cyberian empire, dating the ship

Ivy Alexandria, archivist and navigator, with a mechanical brain that remembers everything except her own former life,

Baron Marius von Raum, doctor, not a baron, not a doctor

Raphaella la Cognizi, science officer, has wings, plays piano

The Toy Soldier. Exactly what it says on the tin.

The octokittens.

There may have also been a ninja at some point? I’m honestly not sure?

In late 2019, the Mechs announced that the band would be calling it quits, and they played their final two shows in January of 2020, resulting in the bittersweet and ignoble deaths of the once-immortal crew of the starship Aurora.

Music: aka, Where Can I Listen?

There are 4 main Mechanisms albums, 2 Tales To Be Told collections, and one single. You can buy the whole discography for £5+ pay-what-you-want on their Bandcamp here, which I thoroughly recommend. You can also listen to them on Spotify and on their official Youtube channel!

Tales to be Told and Tales to be Told Vol. II include the backstory songs of many of the crewmembers, as well as some of their other standalone adventures and tales, and a couple of songs tied to the other albums.

Once Upon a Time in Outer Space is Grimmsian fairy tales and nursery rhymes reinterpreted as a sci-fi tragedy about the rebellion against cruel tyrant Old King Cole, lead by Cole’s former general Snow White. Snow’s sister, the warrior Rose, was kidnapped by Cole to be cloned into his unstoppable army, and both Snow and Rose’s bride-to-be Cinders are desperate to free her and overthrow Cole. And then the Mechanisms show up... I often use Our Boy Jack as a song to introduce people to the band.

Ulysses Dies at Dawn is a cyberpunk noir retelling of the Odyssey and assorted Greek myth. In a city that covers a world, where the minds of the dead are imprisoned by the ruling Olympians to run the vast Acheron computer network, bitter war veteran Ulysses is the only one who may have found a way to escape. So, a quartet of menacing Suits have been sent to get the secret out of them -- and out of their strange underground vault -- by any means necessary.

High Noon Over Camelot, an Arthurian space western featuring trans Mordred, polyamorous and morally questionable gunslingers Arthur/Lancelot/Guinevere, Drumbot Brian as a decaying metal Merlin, slightly mad preacher-man Galahad, many good intentions, and few good results; all trapped within an abandoned space station in failing orbit around a star, all hoping to find the mysterious GRAIL in time.

The Bifrost Incident is their cosmic-horror locked-room-mystery take on Norse myth. After leaving for its three-day maiden voyage with all the high and mighty of Asgard onboard and then vanishing for 80 years, Old Lady Odin’s Ratatosk Express has finally arrived, and it’s up to Inspector Lyfrassir Edda to pick apart the black box recordings and discover what really happened. (Notably includes space revolutionary wives Loki and Sigyn, as well as a track where Jonny makes an invocation to Yog-Sothoth sound good somehow.)

and Frankenstein, a single telling the story of Victoria Frankenstein and the AI she built, and how it goes wrong.

In addition, the livestream of their final concert, Death to the Mechanisms, is viewable on their YouTube channel. Said concert also features the amazing Reesha Dyer, whose music can be found here. (As of Feb. 6, 2020, the available version of the livestream cuts out much of the second half of the show; apparently there are alternate versions coming soon.)

More Content Please?

The band’s official site contains profiles of crew members, lyrics for many of their songs, original fiction set in the Mechanisms universe, and other assorted goodies.

If you never had the chance to see them live, the TV Tropes page actually explains a lot of their live show content, as well as more about the crew and the stories.

And if that’s not enough, here’s a YT playlist of many live videos of their shows, including full performances! There’s a lot that doesn’t go on the albums (although I recommend listening to the proper recordings first). Well worth watching to see their antics in-character. (There is not, as far as I know, any full video of High Noon Over Camelot; there is a video of The Bifrost Incident, but as of writing this I don’t have a good link to it.)

& of course there’s the band’s official Twitter and Tumblr, the latter of which in particular contains many delicious and exclusive tidbits.

Related Media & Other Projects By The Crew

Having apparently survived her airlock accident, Dr. Carmilla also has her own music (and describes her musical style as “Retrospective Futuristic Visual Kei”).

The Toy Soldier (Jessica Law) has her own Bandcamp and a mailing list here!

Raphaella (R. L. Hughes) has her own Bandcamp.

Drumbot Brian releases music as Ben Below and Phonovoltaic.

Gunpowder Tim and Brian make music with the company Softwire.

Marius has his own Bandcamp.

Raphaella and the Drumbot have released some music about sad robots under the name Overclockwork.

Jonny D’Ville (Jonny Sims) co-runs a TTRPG company, MacGuffin & Co, whose settings and scenarios I can personally highly recommend. He also writes some kind of podcast.

#my posts #radio free ilium #bobbie recommends things

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doomedandstoned · 5 years ago

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The Curious Case of Dr. Sludgelove and His Awesome Cosmic Adventures

~By Billy Goate~

There's something to be said for the enduring power of a Stanley Kubrick film. There's no denying his potent storytelling, especially when it's inspiring a new generation of bands to write music about 2001: A Space Odyssey. I mean, wasn't that movie released in the late-60s? It's tech is dated, as are much of the effects, yet here we have young musicians writing minor epics about Dave's star-tripping Jupiter run, raging apes, and that gosh-darned monolith. Hmmm, well if you look at your typical Sunn Amp, it's no wonder. Thing is a picture of solitary grandeur, to say nothing of its omnipotent, knee-bending sonority.

In our last globe-hopping journey, we landed in Mexico City where we met a band called MOONWATCHER, known to project scenes from the film while playing open amphitheaters at the dead of night. Our travels next take us to Hungary, a scene I've sorely neglected over the years. More specifically, we're going right into the heart of the action: Budapest. It's the birthplace of the great pianist-composer Franz Liszt, who is arguably the first rock star for taking his solo piano performances on the road, which ignited the swooning throngs.

Some of you may have been exposed to the Hungarian doom-stoner sound already and not even realized it. Bands like Apey and the Pea, for example, have demonstrated that Hungarians like their music spicy, served up with verve and gusto. I decided it would be a good time to open up the window and take give you all a peek at this world through the eyes of a band I stumbled upon at random a few weeks back, who endeared themselves to me almost from the start with their name: Dr. Sludgelove. C'mon, how can you not love it?

Another thing I admire about the band is their dedication to concept. The presser they sent out was helpfully annotated with scene-by-scene narration of each track, which I've decided to share with you as I walk you through them. Finally, we're going to meet the band and find out what they can tell us about what it's like to be Doomed & Stoned on their side of the planet. Buckle up, boys. We're about to take a ride with a pair of wild men out into the final frontier.

Dr. Sludgelove is:

János Papp

Attila Temesvári

János Paronai

This is the story of their excursion into the universe of Stanley Kubrick, relayed in their own words.

My Space Odyssey

I. Dawn of Man

This is the first song off of Dr. Sludgelove's debut album, inspired by the Stanley Kubrick movie 2001: A Space Odyssey. In this song, humanity has just been born. Apes are living their everyday lives, which is just about struggling, fighting for food, and finding a place to sleep. They gather into groups -- the groups are fighting with each other, as well. The Earth during these times is very unfriendly place, with big and wrathful storms. Green can be found barely in this region and the vegetation is not very rich.

At some time, in the morning a big black prism is just appearing in front of our group at the ape cave. The shape, color, and smell is just something that has never ever been seen on this planet before. It is a monolith. An ape shows interest at once, as he caught sight of it. He moves closer, wants to touch it, but at the same time he is afraid of the unknown. He starts to dance around it. Others are appearing, as well, but they have bigger fears and choose to watch him from a decent distance. After a while, our hero just decides to tap on it. Then after some quick taps, he constantly touches the Monolith, but nothing visible seems to happen.

My Space Odyssey by Dr. Sludgelove

After some days, the ape finds some bones of a guinea pig, which are just lying in front of him. He starts to play with a piece, but he realizes after a while what he can do with it. He holds it high, then smites it with all his power. At this moment, he realizes how to use something to achieve bigger force than he is able to provide with his bare hands. He has just started to use a tool! This is also the start of the intellect, which drives humanity to reach bigger and bigger improvements. The Monolith gives the possibility of having a better, more developed life than the miserable life of apes. This moment starts everything, a pathway to the modern person's future.

II. Discovery One

In this second song, humanity is in space, travelling between planets in the Solar System. There is a base at the Moon, which can be visited by the average person, as well. Traveling in space is not such a big thing any more.

My Space Odyssey by Dr. Sludgelove

After discovering the Monolith in the surface of the Moon, a group of elite astronauts and scientists start their travel to the planet Jupiter to discover an anomaly, marked by the Monolith on the Moon. Most of the scientists are in hibernation, though two astronauts are awake during the long journey to supervise. An artificial intelligence, called HAL9000 is supporting them, dealing with all the low level controls of the spaceship.

III. HAL-9000

In this song, HAL-9000 reveals his true colors, as he tries to kill all astronauts on the spaceship. Dave Bowman, the last astronaut, decides to switch off HAL's intelligence to stop its influence controlling the whole ship's whole ecosystem. During the switching off operation, Dave needs to wear a spacesuit, as maybe HAL will try to kill him by providing no oxygen. Because of the spacesuit, we can hear Dave breathe during the entire track. This gives a sense of great tension to the whole song and originally for the movie scene, as well. We can hear as HAL tries to convince Dave that everything is alright and it will have no problems continuing the mission successfully.

My Space Odyssey by Dr Sludgelove

In the meantime, Dave pulls out computer cards from HAL's central unit, so HAL gets more and more simple-minded. At a certain point, HAL tries to convince Dave by appealing to his emotions as it states it is AFRAID! During Dave's actions, the music is heavy, a really metallic riff suggests that Dave is doing some harmful thing to HAL. When Dave finishes with the shutting down process, HAL goes into standby mode. Then he starts to "sing." This is the first thing that was taught to HAL back in the day, when it was created by its instructor, Mr. Langley.

IV. Alone Into The Void

After Dave Bowman successfully switches down HAL9000's high-level functionality, he continues the mission and heads towards the direction of Jupiter to investigate the enormously big copy of the Monolith found in the Moon. This is the focus of the fourth song. His colleague Frank Pool and all of the scientists held in deep hibernation were killed by HAL 9000 and the connection to Earth is also cut.

My Space Odyssey by Dr Sludgelove

During the long journey, therefore, he is really alone. The way to Jupiter lasts for long months. He tries to focus on the mission, but because he is lacking communication partner, Dave thinks a lot about his future, what he will find next to Jupiter, how the Monolith will behave, what will happen when he encounters it. A lot of questions and a lot of pressure on him and the prospect of the unknown drives him to depression, as he prepares to meet his doom.

V. My God, It Is Full of Stars!

For the fifth song, astronaut Dave Bowman encounters the Monolith. He says the following phrase just before losing contact with Mission Control: “The thing’s hollow -- it goes on forever -- and -- oh my God! -- it’s full of stars!”

My Space Odyssey by Dr Sludgelove

During the journey, he sees these stars as flashes, as the known three dimensional world falls apart. Time, direction, and all the usual physics does not make sense here anymore. Bowman is transported via the Monolith to an unknown star system, through a large interstellar switching station, and sees other species' spaceships going on other routes. Bowman is given a wide variety of sights, from the wreckage of ancient civilizations to what appear to be life-forms living on the surfaces of a binary star system planet.

VI. Death of Man, Born of The Starchild

After a journey through the wormhole, Dave Bowman finally arrives during the last song. The Monolith creates an environment for Dave to exist in that would not harm him in any way, making it look like a hotel room filled with familiar items to assuage any fear and appear welcoming.

Dave can't believe what he sees, but leaves the pod and explores the room in his suit. He sees the telephone and telephone book, but the phone doesn't work and the telephone book is blank.

He explores more and finds the refrigerator, where there is a variety of packaged food, but it is all "blue substance, about the weight and texture of bread pudding. Apart from its odd color, it looked quite appetizing." There are clothes in the closet, which are a bit out of date for Dave's time.

My Space Odyssey by Dr Sludgelove

Dave decides to trust the environment. "But this is ridiculous," Bowman tells himself in the novelization by Arthur C. Clarke. "I am almost certainly being watched, and I must look an idiot wearing this suit. If this is some kind of intelligence test, I've probably failed already. Without further hesitation, he walked back into the bedroom and began to undo the clamp of his helmet. When it was loose, he lifted the helmet a fraction of an inch, cracked the seal and took a cautious sniff. As far as he could tell, he was breathing perfectly normal air." He eats the blue food and drinks the water, showers, dresses, and he turns on the television.

Refreshed and exhausted, Dave lies down on the bed, turns off the light and "...for the last time, David Bowman slept." The Power behind the Monolith then transforms Dave into the Starchild, the next evolution of man.

Encounter With Dr. Sludgelove

I'm afraid 'My Space Odyssey' has only whet our appetite for more from Dr. Sludgelove. Where does the band go from here?

We are just starting to dive into the Hungarian stoner/doom/sludge scene. Our first release is more than a year old, but the needed band members have just been recruited. We started to rehearse and were able to find rehearsal room, so a lot of technical problems were solved in the last few months. Now we are planning gigs more gigs, after performing for the first time in this configuration during the spring. We are mostly close to Baby Gorilla Records and bands like Third Planet and Lanterni. We are planning gigs together first in Budapest, after that probably in some bigger cities around the country. Our one year goal is to be a band in Hungary that's invited to support a bigger foreign name, when such an act comes to play here. Our second album also will come out around the summertime, with the help of the sound engineer of the well-known band Red Swamp. Also merchandise, CD, and cassette releases are planned.

You mentioned a couple bands from the Hungarian scene. What are some others that doomers and stoners might check out?

Maybe the biggest name nowadays is Apey and the Pea. They usually play to sold out parties in Budapest, tour the whole country, and perform in foreign countries and festivals more and more. Their first releases were more grunge and stoner, then they delved into doom and sludge. Their most recent release is sludgier and contains thrash elements, as well. They are the best in Hungary right now.

Some other names worth checking out are Red Swamp, Lemurian Folk Songs, Űrhajó, Grizzly, Lanterni, Entrópia Architektúra, Alone in the Moon, Mighty Manlifter, and Third Planet, just to name a few top of mind.

For outside bands looking to tour through Hungary, what are some good booking agencies?

There is Baby Gorilla Records -- overall, really nice guys. They are managing and representing around 8-10 bands in the stoner, sludge, doom, noise, and prog rock subgenres. Also dealing with record releasing, of course, in addition to artwork, and organizing label nights, where their bands are usually supporting bigger names from foreign lands. While we're not on their label roster, we played one of their label nights in May, supporting the British band Famyne.

Thulsa Doom Booking is another one. They organize gigs for smaller foreign bands. Also they have their own group of bands, which they manage. They organize the underground festival called Thulsa Doom Fest, which you might have heard of.

Cudi Purci Booking is a bigger fish in this pond. They organize gigs with big foreign bands in the genre, like Elder, High on Fire, that kind of thing. They also organize the so-called Desszert Fest in Hungary.

What are some places that people like to hang there?

So, I'm listing some places where metalheads usually go out. Durerkert hosts a lot of live gigs in all rock and metal genres. This is a really cool place, we like it very much.

BARhole Music is the place where today's "rock stars" go to hang out in Budapest. If you want to meet with members from bands like Apey and the Pea, you will likely bump into them there.

Három Holló is a coffee house and restaurant at daytime, a cultural gathering at night -- including host to a lot of heavy music gigs and festivals.

Gólya is a cozy little place, which has lots of possibilities for smaller bands in our genre to perform live.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Reviews #D&S Interviews #Dr. Sludgelove #Budapest #Hungary #Doom #Sludge #Metal #Sci-Fi #2001: A Space Odyssey #Stanley Kubrick #Doomed & Stoned

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letsmakeapromise · 6 years ago

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I was tagged by @loveandjustice

Rules: Answer 30 questions. Tag 10 blogs you want to get to know better. (Or don't)

Nickname(s): I have way too many nicknames but my all time favourite is Shelbs. Honourable Mentions: Shelbinator, Shelbabe, Shelbasaur, Shellder, Shelga..

Gender: Pretty Boy

Sign: Cancer

Height: 5'7

Time: 7:14pm

Favourite bands: Metric, Pale Waves and Wolf Alice would be the bands that I listen to the most I think. I listen too a lot of music but I listen to / relate to solo artists a lot more.

Favourite solo artist(s): Since her first album 'Can't Take Me Home' it's always been P!nk. I say it all the time, but so many of her songs are literally pages from my diary. I also really appreciate Nicki Minaj, Whitney, Kesha, Marina, Ariana, Kelly and Adele all also have special places in my heart.

Song stuck in my head: https://youtu.be/zxtl5ExJmag

Last move I saw: How It Ends on Netflix. It was way better then I expected it to be.

Last show I watched: My boyfriend has 'willingly' agreed to watch Sailor Moon so we've been taking it pretty slow, but we just finished episode 42 😭

When did I create my blog: I'm going to guess 2011 because I think I started mine not too long after @loveandjustice

What do I post: I used to be very all over the place but I'm trying to focus on a dark cosmic/ astral goth aesthetic ? (That's fucking annoying.)

Last thing I googled: 'How to add gst in alberta' - because I just stared working at an independent flower shop and I don't know how to do basic math.

Do I have any other blogs: Nah.

Do I get asks: Nah. It's cool tho

Why did I choose my URL: https://youtu.be/qVsLcI9HVaA - Tifa has always been someone I've related too.

Following: 326

Followers: 256

Average hours of sleep: I aim for 7 or 8 but my body usually lets me get like 4 or 5.

Lucky Number: 7 (no proof)

Instruments: None. I can play 5 seconds of the Sailor Moon theme song on piano and thats it.

What am I wearing: No shirt and shorts. It's hot

Dream job: Right now I'm in it. Small flower shop, family owned so no corporations, creative freedom and encouragement. I'm

very happy right now, I can't believe this opportunity came to me

Favourite food: Ukrainian Food. I'm Ukrainian and I've realized how comforting a good Kolbassa & Perogy is 😂

Nationality: Canadian ( I've also generalized from my parents Ukrainian / Icelandic )

Favourite Song: (this was the hardest)

Fuckin Perfect - P!nk

Encore 07 - Nicki Minaj (mixtape)

I Wanna Dance With Somebody - Whitney Houston

Black Sheep - Metric

Time after Time - Cyndi Lauper

Last book I read: Memoirs of Geisha - Arthur Golden. My all time favourite (aka the only book I read)

Top 3 Universes I wanna join:

Crystal Tokyo ( Sailor Moon ), Spira / Besaid Island ( Final Fantasy X ), Edenia ( Mortal Kombat)

Follow me if you don't ? Don't ask me why

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noiseartists · 5 years ago

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Orange Crate Art: Psychedelia and melodic noise from Sweden

Orange Crate Art is the musical project of Toby, from Malmö, Sweden. he has produced some quality ‘Hallucinatory music since 1995’.

He just released his new LP, Astral Lullabies on the Threshold, which he was very kind to us the Premiere. Thanks Toby.

And he was even kinder in giving us a glance in his music and himself in the following interview.

His music work to date is as follows:

2019: Astral Lullabies on the Threshold, LP; Song for Celluloid Babylon: The Visionary Photographs of William Mortensen in the Silent Film Era (Original Soundtrack), Single

2018: Microscopic Liquid Subway to Oblivion , LP; Inside Out: The Art of Susan Te Kahurangi King (Original Soundtrack), LP;

2017: Quantum Distortion in Empty Space, LP; The Exegesis of Matt Marello (Original Soundtrack), LP; Circular Rays of Infinity Cells, EP

2016: Extraordinary Gradations of Mauve, LP; In a Sea of Crystal Radiance, EP; The Tibetan Year of the Dead, EP

2015: oca EP, 2015; ehs EP #1; Italian futurism, LP; ehs EP #2; ehs EP #3; ehs EP #4; Exploding head syndrome, LP

What is your music about?

Nothing in particular. It's more a state of... being in between states. Like hypnagogia. Trance-like and somewhere else, but with a physical presence. Even though the songs might have choruses and verses and vocals etc. Not comparing OCA to painters like Heron or Rothko, but.

I see quite a similarity between what I do and abstract impressionism, or painters like the above. What I put into the music is usually very to the point but the actual output, the expression, tends to come out as kind of blurry, see-through, or geometrical shapes in layers with blurred outlines. So what's it all about, when you sort it out... Alfie?

Once something is released, I have no say, but hopefully, the music can draw the listeners into a rewarding musical experience that they can define for themselves.

What are your goals as an artist artistically/commercially?

I don't really have any commercial goals. It's not a career. It's not an intentional anti-approach, I just don't think like that. I would love if the income from OCA could pay the rent and food, but I don't see it coming. Once something is recorded, I'm already working on the next thing. It's always about the next record. I'm making soundtracks for my friend and director Brian Chidester in New York, and ultimately, I'd like to make a living out of making music for film and television, but... I don't dream about it.

Since everything I do is DIY and on a small budget, I have gone the digital release route, but the plan is still to release/reissue everything on vinyl. These days, I'm more open to releasing music on other labels. I'm going to give Somewhere Cold something, for example, and that will probably come out on CD too.

I have a huge backlog of unreleased albums and EP dating back to 1995s. Most of these recordings will come out one day, so one of the rules I try to follow is to finish old stuff before recording new material. On the other hand, I really love the immediacy of recording something today and releasing it tomorrow. The "OCA" and "Tibetan Year of the Dead" EPs were recorded and released within the space of a few weeks.

The album I'm finishing right now is fairly new, recorded right after the Matt Marello documentary soundtrack in August/September 2017. The idea was to make a more song-based version of the soundtrack. It evolved into a gentle folk-psych collection of songs. Mantras and cosmic lullabies. The vocals are always record last, and I didn't get around to record them until February/March this year. I'd say the record is a bit more accessible . Less noise, more focused.

Who would you want as a dream producer, and why?

I have never thought of anybody else producing my music, so not really sure. It'd would have been interesting to have worked with Gary Usher around the time of his first Sagitarrius album and The Byrds' "Notorious..." album. His productions are so experimental and crisp sounding.

On a similar but different sounding note, Curt Boettcher. He'd put his usual Ballroom cast of vocalists on my tracks, which would've been lovely. Have you heard the Bobby Jameson record Curt produced in 1967? Those background harmonies by him, Michelle O'Malley and others..! And his work with tape delay, reverse reverb, Chamberlin, oboe and tremolo guitar on a lot of his backing tracks... he's a huge influence on OCA. I have a song called "In the Direction of the Non-Believer" which is sonically sort of a mix of a 1997-era Kevin Shields-remix and the album Curt did with Tommy Roe. A bit of Arthur Lee in the middle-eight but the rest of the music was kind of like that Tommy Roe album, with Boettcher-ish backwards tambourine and more.

As for current producers, it'd be interesting to see what somebody like Tim Hecker would do with an OCA record. It would end up radically different to everything I've done so far.

But generally, I will more than likely continue to produce my own stuff, but in the future, I'll probably hand the mastering over to a professional mastering engineer. And I'm always open to collaborations with other artists or musicians.

What are you trying to avoid as a band?

I don't think I'm trying to avoid anything. I just do it, like Nike footwear. I might not have their swoosh, though. Generally, I think it's better to try something than to avoid it.

Explain your songwriting process.

It used to be fairly traditional. Writing songs on the guitar and, later, the keyboard. These days, the process is more like people in electronica and film scoring: the writing and recording process is the same. One method I use a lot is to just press record and begin writing the song as it is being recorded. That's one reason why many of my songs change key so often... the songs just take off in their own directions.

I tend to mix a song right from the start, for every track I add, so it's continually molded into the final product. I usually mix into the two-bus, ie. I let EQ, compression, tape saturation etc colour the recording from the get go, rather than adding everything to the final mix. That essentially comes from the dance or electronic music world. Traditional rock engineers would probably disapprove. Again, it's maybe a bit like painting. I work really fast. Apart from the vocals, 90% of any released record is what was recorded in the first hour or two.

Why do you make the music you make? Is it in you? Is it your environment?

I have no idea why I make it. I just do it, and have done since I was a kid. It's an inner experience, but we're all connected to the cosmos.

Describe your palette of sound.

This is like the moment when John Lennon wanted a track to sound like an orange and George Martin was like "ok... I'll try to make it sound like an orange" :-) My bandmates would probably agree that I'm not that good at explaining what I want. I can be very precise for myself, but that's just the input into the music. Explaining the output to others is very hard, because everybody has their own idea of what X or Y is. Essentially, like any other artist, it's not my job to define what I do. It's up to the listener.

But from a more technical point of view, or in terms of arrangements, I have an anything goes attitude. I'll use whatever I have around me. Generally speaking, I do tend to come back to the same sets of arrangements. Usually one or two guitar, two bass guitars (one fuzz, one clean), organ and drums. I usually go for Vox or Fender Tweed amp tones, maybe a Mellotron, maybe a tack piano, sometimes brass, a lot of flute actually... for the soundtracks, it all depends on what the director wants and I try to translate it into music.

The guitars I use the most: a J Mascis Jazzmaster, a Squire Jaguar with Curtis Novak vintage pickups, one of those really cheap Danelectro guitars and a Danelectro electric 12-string guitar. I also have different acoustic guitars, and about one hundred effect pedals. Mostly fuzz and overdrive, but also several envelope filters, delays, tremolos, etc. I used to collect Devi Ever pedals and I use them a lot. Lately, I've come back to Boss pedals. Their overdrive pedals are so warm and musical.

If you could guest on someone else’s album , who would it be and why? What would you play?

I would probably play the guitar, my J Mascis Jazzmaster, which sounds three times as good as it costs. Can't actually think of a specific artist, sorry... maybe one of the newer London free jazz groups, or somebody who makes pure abstract or electronic music. Tim Hecker, hello? :-) What musical skills would you like to acquire or get better at?

Playing in time :-)

Which other musician/artist would you date?

Yoko Ono.

Is there a band that if they didn’t exist you wouldn’t be making the music you make?

Sure. OCA would sound radically different without My Bloody Valentine, Stereolab, High Llamas, Mouse on Mars, and many others.

You’re from Sweden, what are the advantages and disavantages?

Of the country? Politically, I'm Old Labour, so I'm completely lost in today's landscape with morons on all sides of the political spectrum. The new left might have good intentions but the road leads directly to neo-liberalism. I guess living in this country has influenced me to check out of current times, musically. Being painfully aware of reality and choosing the inner, cosmic musical experience.

Musically, we've always been more international than local, attracting pockets of listeners all around the world. I love looking at the streaming statistics and see people from South America, Asia, the States, mainland Europe... it's like the Stereolab scene in the late '90s. Always international, with bands like Mouse on Mars in Germany, Tortoise in the States, Cornelius in Japan, and so on. I don't really see any particular advantages living here, as an artist. Being a 20 minute train ride away from Copenhagen makes a huge difference, though.

Find Orange Crate Art here

Bandcamp

Facebook

Youtube

Twitter

Soundcloud

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dustedmagazine · 3 years ago

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Dust, Volume 7, Number 7

What are Grandbrothers doing to that piano?

Greetings from under the heat dome, where shipments of vinyl are melting mid-journey and even the coolest of cool jazz sounds a little wilted by the time it reaches your ear. We are sitting in the shade. We are drinking lemonade and iced tea. We are looking for the window fans and lugging old air condition units up from the basement. We are, perhaps, headed to the community pool for the first time since our kids were young, though also, perhaps not. In any case, we are still getting through piles of recorded music, even in this heat, and finding some gems. Here are dispatches from the furthest reaches of Japanese psych, European free jazz, self-released indie folk, Irish lockdown angst, Moroccan raging punk and lots of other stuff. Contributors included Mason Jones, Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Tim Clarke, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw, Arthur Krumins and Chris Liberato. Stay cool.

Yuko Araki — End of Trilogy (Room40)

End Of Trilogy by Yuko Araki

These 16 tracks whoosh past in just 35 minutes, with most of them clocking in around two minutes in length. Many don't reach a conclusion: they simply end abruptly, and the next one starts. Araki manipulates electronics to create whirling, sizzling atmospheres of confusion, sometimes fast-moving burbles of percussion and synths, at other moments pushing distorted hissing and confrontational tones to the front. The aptly-named "Dazed" begins with a cinematic feel, then its galactic drones give way to static and metallic scrapes. "Positron in Bloom" is like a chorus of machine voices shouting angry curses into space, and "Dreaming Insects" sounds as if the titular creatures are being pulled downstream in fast-moving rapids. Oscillating between menacing and humorous, End of Trilogy's bite-sized pieces of surrealist electronics are never boring.

Mason Jones

Alexander Biggs — Hit or Miss (Native Tongue Music Publishing)

Hit or Miss by Alexander Biggs

Alexander Biggs blunts sharp, stinging lyrics in the sweetest sort of strummy indie-pop, working very much in the Elliott Smith style of sincerity edged with lacerating irony. “All I Can Do Is Hate You” finds a queasy intersection between soft pop and tamped down rage, Biggs murmuring phrases like “I want you to fuck me til I can’t say your name,” but melodically, over cascades of acoustic guitar. “Madeline” is the pick of the litter here, a dawdling jangle of guitar framing knife-sharp lyrics about romantic disillusionment. “Miserable,” sports a bit of lap steel for emotional resonance, demonstrating once more, if you had any doubt, that very sad songs can make you feel better somehow. Biggs is good at both the softness and the sting, and for guy-with-a-guitar albums, that’s what you need.

Jennifer Kelly

Christer Bothén 3 — Omen (Bocian)

Omen by Christer Bothén 3

Dusted’s collective consciousness has spent a lot of time considering Blank Forms’ recent publication, Organic Music Societies, which considers Don and Moki Cherry’s convergence of artistic and familial efforts during the 1960s and 1970s, as well as the two archival recordings by Don and associates, which shed light upon his Scandinavian musical activities. All three are worth your attention, but their liveliness is shaded by the awareness that almost every hopeful soul involved is no longer with us. But Christer Bothén, who introduced Don to the donso ngoni and subsequently played in his bands for many years, is not only among the living, he’s got breath to spare. This trio recording doesn’t delve into the African sounds that bonded Bothén and Don. Rather, the Swede’s bass clarinet draws bold and emphatically punctuated melodic lines, driven by a steaming rhythm section that takes its cues from Ornette Coleman’s mid-1960s trio recordings. This music may not sound new, but it’s full of lived-in knowledge and vigor.

Bill Meyer

Briars of North America — Supermoon (Brassland)

Supermoon by Briars of North America

New York-based trio Briars of North America take patient, painterly, occasionally cosmic approach to folk music. With “Sala,” Supermoon sounds like a backwoods Sigur Ros. A falsetto voice intoning a made-up language arcs elegantly over sustained waves of electric piano. Soon after, the album touches down into more grounded guitar-and-cello territory on pieces such as “Island” and “Chirping Birds,” which bring to mind Nick Drake, albeit less contrary or withdrawn. At the album’s midway point, the listener is carried into the aether with the eerie sustained brass and wordless vocals of the eight-minute “The Albatross of Infinite Regress.” A similar space is explored at the album’s end with the 12-minute “Sleepy Not Sleepy,” as strings and warbling synthesizer tones intermingle with the return of the made-up language. Though the band’s more conventional vocal-led songs, such as “Spring Moon,” are decent enough, Briars of North America touch upon something expansive and ineffable when they explore their more experimental side.

Tim Clarke

Bryan Away — Canyons to Sawdust (self-released)

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Chicago-based actor, composer and multi-instrumentalist Elliot Korte releases music under the moniker Bryan Away. His new album, Canyons to Sawdust, begins with what feels like two introductions. “Well Alright Then” is a Grizzly Bear-style scene-setter for wordless voices, strings and woodwinds, while “Within Reach” sounds like a tentative cover of Radiohead’s “Pyramid Song” that runs out of steam before it had the chance to build momentum. The first full song, single “The Lake,” gets the album up and running in earnest with its melancholy piano and string arrangement spiked with pizzicato plucks and bright acoustic guitar figures. Half Waif lends her vocal talents to “Dreams and Circumstance,” another highlight featuring some lovely interplay between guitar arpeggios and drum machine. One pitfall of exploring romantic musical territory is the risk of sounding a tad saccharine, and the weakest links in the album, companion tracks “Scenes From a Marriage” and “Scenes From a Wedding,” have the kind of performative tone you’d expect to find on the soundtrack of a mainstream romantic comedy. Elsewhere, though, Korte’s judgment is sound, and there’s plenty of elegant music to be found. Fans of Sufjan Stevens will no doubt find a lot to like, and it’ll be interesting to see where Bryan Away ventures next.

Tim Clarke

Jonas Cambien Trio — Nature Hath Painted Painted The Body (Clean Feed)

Nature Hath Painted the Body by Jonas Cambien Trio

On its third album, the Jonas Cambien Trio has attained such confidence that it’s willing to mess with its signature sound. The Oslo-based combo’s fundamental approach is to stuff the expressive energy and textural adventure of free jazz into compositions that are by turns intricate and rhythmically insistent but always pithy. This time, the Belgian-born pianist Cambien also plays soprano sax and organ. The former, stirred into André Roligheten’s bundle of reed instruments, brings airy respite from the music’s tight structures; the latter, dubbed into locked formation with the piano and jostled by Andreas Wildhagen’s restlessly perambulating percussion, expands the music’s tonal colors. The tunes themselves have grown more catchy, so much so that their twists and turns only become apparent with time and repeat listening.

Bill Meyer

Ferran Fages / Lluïsa Espigolé — From Grey To Blue (Inexhaustible Editions)

From Grey To Blue by Ferran Fages

When discussion turns to a pianist’s touch, it’s tempting to think mainly of what they do with their fingers. But it must be said that Lluïsa Espigolé exhibits some next-level footwork on this realization of Ferran Fages’ From Grey To Blue. Fages is a multi-instrumentalist who functions equally persuasively within the realms of electroacoustic improvisation and heavy jazz-rock, but for this piece, which was devised specifically for Espigolé, he uses written music and an instrument he doesn’t play, the piano, to engage with resonance and melody. The three-part composition advances with extreme deliberation, often one note at a time, turning the tune into a ghostly presence and foregrounding the details of the decay of each sound. This music is so sparse that the shift to chords in the third section feels dramatically dense after a half hour of single sounds and corresponding silences. The elements of this music have been sculpted with such exquisite control that one wonders if Catalonia has looked into insuring Espigolé’s feet; her way with the piano’s pedals is a cultural resource.

Bill Meyer

Grandbrothers — All the Unknown (City Slang)

All the Unknown by Grandbrothers

The duo known as Grandbrothers hooks a grand piano up to an array of electronic interfaces, deriving not just the clear, gorgeous notes you expect, but also a variety of percussive and sustained sounds from the classic keyboard. In this third album from the two—that’s pianist Erol Sarp and electronic engineer Lukas Vogel—construct intricate, joyful collages, working clarion melodies into sharp, pointillist backgrounds. The obvious reference is Hauscka, who also works with prepared piano and electronics, but rather than his moody beauties, these compositions pulse with rave-y, trance-y exhilaration. If you ever wondered what it would sound like if the Fuck Buttons decided to cover Steve Reich, well, maybe like this, precise and complex and shimmering, but also huge and triumphant. Good stuff.

Jennifer Kelly

id m theft able — Well I Fell in Love with the Eye at the Bottom of the Well (Pogus Productions)

Well I Fell in Love With the Eye at the Bottom of the Well by id m theft able

Al Margolis’ Pogus Productions imprint has cast its gaze toward the strange happenings in Maine, netting a mutant form of electroacoustic wizardry in the process. Scott Spear is the one-man maelstrom known as id m theft able, an incredibly prolific and confounding presence in the American northeast. He draws influence from musique concrète and sound poetry, but adds a whimsical spirit, a tinker’s ingenuity and the comedic timing of a master prankster to his compositions. Sometimes this leads to the bemusement of his audience, but he tempers any surface madness with an endless curiosity and a playful sense of the meaning of the word music. Well I Fell in Love with the Eye at the Bottom of the Well ostensibly came to be via Spear’s desire to create a doo-wop tune. Only Spear himself knows whether this is fact or fiction, because it is clear from the opening moments of “Shun, Unshun and Shun” that this disc is full of sonic non-sequiturs, amplified clatter and delightful mouth happenings that are as far removed from doo-wop as possible. The madness is frequently tempered with beautiful moments: a broken music box serenades a flock of chirping birds in the middle of a mall, Spear hypnotically chants at a landscape of crickets, flutes pipe along to the patter of rain on a window. As one gets deeper into the record, the sound poetry aspects become more and more pronounced, such as on “The Curve of the Earth” and the closing piece, “Purple Rain.” Those seeking a humor-filled gateway drug into that somewhat perilous corner of the sonic spectrum would be wise to pop an ear in the direction of this frenetic assemblage of sound.

Bryon Hayes

Mia Joy — Spirit Tamer (Fire Talk)

Spirit Tamer by Mia Joy

Mia Joy turns the temperature way down on gauzy Spirit Tamer, constructing translucent castles in the air out of musical elements that you can see and hear right through. The artist, known in real life as Mia Rocha, opens with a brief statement of intent in a one-minute title track that wraps wisps of vocal melody with indistinct but lovely sustained tones. The whole track feels like looking at clouds. Other cuts are more substantial, with muted rock band instruments like acoustic and electric guitars and drum machines, but even indie-leaning “Freak” and "Ye Old Man,” are quiet epiphanies. Rocha sounds like she is singing to herself softly, inwardly, without any thought of an audience, but also so close that it tickles the hair in your ears. Rocha closes with a cover of Arthur Russell’s “Our Last Night Together,” letting rich swells of piano stand in for cello, but tracing the subtle, undulating lines of his melody in an airy register, an octave or two higher. Like Russell, Rocha sets up an interesting interplay between deep introversion and presentation for the public eye; she’s not doing it for us, but we’re listening anyway.

Jennifer Kelly

Know//Suffer — The Great Dying (Silent Pendulum Records)

The Great Dying by KNOW//SUFFER

It’s not inaccurate to describe The Great Dying as a hardcore record. You’ll hear all the burly breakdowns; buzzing, overdriven guitars; and grimly declaimed vocals that characterize the genre, which since the mid-1990s has moved ever closer to metal. But Know//Suffer have consistently infused their music with sonic elements associated with other genres of heavy music. Most of the El Paso band’s 2019 EP bashed and crashed along with grindcore’s psychotic, sprinting energy. The Great Dying is a longer record, and it slows down the proceedings considerably. There are flirtations with sludge, and even with noise rock’s ambivalent gestures toward melody: imagine Tad throwing down with a mostly-sober version of Eyehategod, and you’re more than halfway there. As ever, Toast Williams emotes forcefully, giving word to a very contemporary version existential dread. But there’s frequently a political edge to the lyrics on this new record. On “Thumbnail,” he sings, “I swallow what must be hidden / Hoping assimilation makes me whole / The whole that everyone thinks I am / Smiling under this mask knowing / I’m not hiding my face in public.” “Assimilation” is a loaded word, especially on the Southern Border, and it’s no joke walking around in public as a proud black man anywhere in Texas. Wearing a mask as you walk into Target? P.O.C. stand a chance of getting shot. Know//Suffer still sound really pissed off, but the objects of their anger seem increasing outside of their tortured psyches, located in the lifeworld’s social planes of struggle. That gives their grim music an even harder charge, and makes Williams’s performances of rage even more powerful.

Jonathan Shaw

Heimito Künst — Heimito Künst (Dissipatio)

HEIMITO KÜNST by Heimito Künst

The debut album from Italian experimental instrumentalist Heimito Künst, recorded over several years in his home studio, uses an array of electronic and primitive instrumentation to create an overall woozy, dark atmosphere. From groaning, atonal slabs of organ, like a detuned church service, to murmuring field recordings and scrapings, these seven tracks are less like songs and more like unsettling journeys through sound. Pieces like "Talking to Ulises" blend quiet Farfisa tones and a wordlessly singing voice in the distance. Ironically, although the final track is titled "Smoldering Life", it's unexpectedly brighter, with major-key synth notes over the cloudy sound of a drum being bashed to pieces before ending with an almost gentle, summertime feel.

Mason Jones

Jeanne Lee — Conspiracy (moved-by-sound)

Conspiracy by JEANNE LEE

Lots of 1960s and 1970s jazz reissues offer beautiful music, but few redefine how liberating improvised music can be. Conspiracy, originally recorded in 1974 by Lee on vocals with an ensemble that includes Sam Rivers and Gunter Hampel, falls into the latter category without feeling forced. It combines sound poetry, the conversation of spontaneity, and grooves that don’t stay on repetition but still get ingrained into your brain somehow. Best digested in a contemplative sitting, the album demands you give your whole attention to the direction of the music and words mixed with extended vocal techniques. The sound shifts from a full-on medley of flutes, drums, bass and horns with voice, to more minimal experiments. The recording is clean and uncluttered, even at its busiest. A lushly enjoyable listen.

Arthur Krumins

Sarah Neufeld — Detritus (Paper Bag)

Detritus by Sarah Neufeld

Sarah Neufeld’s third solo album grew out of a collaboration with the Toronto choreographer Peggy Baker, begun before the pandemic but dealing anyway with loss, intimacy and grief. The violinist and composer works, as a consequence with a strong sense of movement, underlining rhythms with repeated, slashing motifs in her own instrument and pounding drums (that’s Jeremy Gara, who, like Neufeld, plays in Arcade Fire). You can imagine movement to nearly all these songs. “With Love and Blindness” rushes forward in a wild swirl of strings, given weight by the buzz of low-toned synthesizer and airiness in the layer of denatured vocals; you see whirling, bending, graceful gestures. “The Top” proceeds in quicker, more playful patterns; agile kicks and jumps and shimmies are implied in its contours. “Tumble Down the Undecided” has a raw, passionate undertow, its play of octave-separated notes frantic and agitated and the drumming, when it comes, fairly gallops. This latter track is perhaps the most enveloping, the notes caroming wildly in all directions, in the thick of the struggle but full of joy.

Jennifer Kelly

Aaron Novik — Grounded (Astral Editions)

Grounded by Aaron Novik

Aaron Novik is a clarinetist with an extensive background in jazz, klezmer, rock and in-between stuff, but you wouldn’t know any of that from listening to this tape. Its ten numbered instrumentals sound more derived from the sound worlds of 1970s PBS documentaries, Residents records of similar vintage, and Pop Corn’s fluke hit, “Pop Corn.” Recorded during the spring of 2020, when Novik’s new neighborhood, Queens, became NYC’s COVID central, it manifests coping strategy that many people learned well last year; when the outside world is fucked and scary, retreat to a room and then head down a rabbit hole. In this case, that meant sampling Novik’s clarinets and arranging them into perky, bobbing instrumentals. The sounds themselves aren’t processed, but it turns out that when recontextualized, long, blown tones and keypad clatter sound a lot like synths and mechanized beats. There’s a hint of subconscious longing in this music. While it was made in a time and place when many people didn’t leave the house, it sounds like just the thing for outdoor constitutionals with a Walkman.

Bill Meyer

Off Peak Arson — S-T (Self-released)

Self Titled by Off Peak Arson

Presumably named after the Truman's Water song — a fairly obscure name check, indeed — Off Peak Arson hail from Memphis, TN. Their debut EP's five songs are less reminiscent of their namesakes than of heavier, noisier bands like Zedek-era Live Skull, Dustdevils and Sonic Youth. Which is not a bad thing at all. The four-piece leverage the dual guitars to nicely intense effect, and with all four members contributing vocals there's a lot going on, at times blending an interesting sing-song pop feel with the twisty-noisy guitar. The band have a way of finding memorable hooks amidst sufficient cacophony to keep things challenging while also somehow catchy. Keep your ears open for more from this quartet.

Mason Jones

Barre Phillips / John Butcher / Ståle Liavik Solberg — We Met – And Then (Relative Pitch)

We met - and then by Phillips, Butcher, Solberg

In 2018, ECM Records issued End To End, a CD by double bassist Barre Phillips which capped a half-century of solo recording. You might expect this act to signal the winding down of the California-born, France-based improviser’s career; after all, he was born in 1934. And yet, in 2018 he played the first, but not the last, concert by this remarkable trio, which is completed by British soprano/tenor saxophonist John Butcher and Norwegian percussionist Ståle Liavik Solberg. Recorded in Germany and Norway during 2018 and 2019, this CD presents an ensemble whose members are strong in their individual concepts, but are also committed to making music that is completed by acts of collective imagination. The music is in constant flux, but purposeful. This intentionality is expressed not only through action, but through the conscious yielding of space, as though each player knows what openings will be best occupied by one of their comrades.

Bill Meyer

Round Eye — Culture Shock Treatment (Paper +Plastick)

“Culture Shock Treatment,” the lead-off track from this unhinged and ecletic album, swings like 1950s rock and roll, a sax frolicking in the spaces between sing-along choruses. And yet, the gleeful skronk goes a little past freewheeling, spinning off into chaos and wheeling back in again. Picture Mark Sultan trying to ride out the existential disorder of early Pere Ubu, add a horn line and step way back, because this is extremely unruly stuff. Round Eye, a band of expatriates now living in Shanghai, slings American heartlands oddball post-punk into unlikely corners. Frantic jackhammer hardcore beats (think Black Flag) assault free-from experimental calls and responses (maybe Curlew?) in “5000 Miles, “ and as a kicker, it’s a commentary on ethno-nationalist repression (“Thank…the country. Thank…the culture”). “I Am the Foreigner” hums and buzzes with exuberance, like a hard-edged B-52s, but it’s about the alienation that these Westerners most likely experience, every day in the Middle Kingdom. This is one busy album, exhausting really, a whac-a-mole entertainment where things keep popping out of holes and getting hammered back, but it is never, ever dull.

Jennifer Kelly

So Cow — Bisignis (Dandy Boy)

Bisignis by So Cow

This new So Cow record is a mood. Specifically, that mood during the third and “least fun” of Ireland’s lockdowns, when you head to your shed and bash out an album about everything that’s been lodged in your craw during a year of isolation — including, of all things, the crowd at a Martha Wainwright show (on “Requests”). And while sole Cow member Brian Kelly might have dubbed the record Bisignis, the Old English word for anxiety, it’s his discontent that takes center stage. “Talking politics with friends/Jesus Christ it never ends” Kelly sings on early highlight “Leave Group” before employing a guitar solo that could pass for some seriously fried bagpipes to help clear the room. This album takes the opposite approach of The Long Con, the project’s 2014 Goner Records one-off where So Cow made more complex moves towards XTC and Futureheads territory but obscured its greatest weapon: Kelly’s deadpan wit. And while a couple of these songs overstay their welcome with their sheer garage punk simplicity, others like “Somewhere Fast” work in the opposite way and win your ears over with repeat listens. “You are the reason I’m getting out of my own way,” Kelly sings, and in doing so has produced the project’s best full-length in a decade. So what? So Cow!

Chris Liberato

Taqbir — Victory Belongs to Those Who Fight for a Right Cause (La Vida Es Un Mus)

Victory Belongs To Those Who Fight For A Right Cause by Taqbir

In our super-saturated musical environment, another eight-minute, 7” record of scorching punk burners isn’t much of an event. But the appearance of Taqbir’s Victory Belongs to Those Who Fight for a Right Cause (the title is almost longer than the record itself) is at the very least a significant occurrence. The band comes from Morocco and features a woman out front, declaiming any number of contemporary socio-political ills. So there’s little wonder that the Internet isn’t bursting with info about Taqbir; you can find a Maximumrocknroll interview, some chatter about the record here and there, and not much else. It must take enormous courage to make music like this in Morocco, and even more to be a woman making music like this. The long reign of King Mohammed IV has edged the country toward marginal increments of cultural openness — if not thoroughgoing political reform — but conservative Islam and economic struggle are still dominant forces, combining to keep women relegated to submissive social roles. And the band is not fucking around: their name is a Moroccan battle cry, synonymous with “Alu Akbar!” Their repurposing of that slogan in support of their anti-traditionalist, anti-religious, anti-capitalist positions likely makes life in a place like Tangier or Casablanca pretty hard. The songs? They’re really good. Check out “Aisha Qandisha” (named for a folkloric phantasm that ambiguously mobilizes the feminine as murderous and rapacious monster): the music slashes and burns with just the right dash of melody, the vocals go from a simmer to a full-on rolling boil. Taqbir! y’all. Stay safe, stay strong and make some more records.

Jonathan Shaw

TOMÁ — Atom (Self-Release)

Atom by TOMÁ

Tomá Ivanov operates in interstices between smooth jazz and soul-infused electronics, splicing bits of torchy world traditions in through the addition of singers. You could certainly draw connections to the funk-leaning IDM of artists like Flying Lotus and Dam-Funk, where pristine instrumental sounds—strings, piano, percussion—meet the pop and glitch of cyber-soul. Guest artists flavor about half the tracks, pushing the music slightly off its center towards rap (“A Different You featuring I Am Tim”), quiet storm soul (“Outsight featuring Vivian Toebich”), falsetto’d art pop (“Catharsis featuring Lou Asril”) or dreaming soul-jazz experiments (“Blind War featuring Ben LaMar Gay”). Thoughout, the Bulgarian composer and guitarist paces expansive ambiences with shuffling, staggering beats, roughing up slick surfaces with just enough friction to keep things interesting.

Jennifer Kelly

The Tubs — Names EP (Trouble In Mind)

Names EP by The Tubs

“I don’t know how it works” declared The Tubs on their debut single, but they’re diving right in anyways on its follow-up, Names, with four songs that explore the self and self-other relationship. Their cover of Felt’s “Crystal Ball” tightens the musical tension of the original in places but still allows enough slack for singer Owen Williams to stretch the lyrical refrain — about the ability of another to see us better than we see ourselves — into a more melancholy shape than Lawrence. Of the EP’s three originals, Felt’s influence is most obvious in George Nicholls’ guitar work on “Illusion,” especially when the change comes and his lead spirals off Deebank-style behind Williams while he questions his connection to his own reflection. “Is it just an illusion staring back at me?” “The Name Song” is the longest one here at over three minutes, and in a similar way to The Feelies, it feels like it could go on forever, which might prove useful if Williams adds more names to his don’t-care-about list. “Two Person Love” is the best track of the bunch, though, with its classic sounding riff that swoops in and out allowing room for the chiming and chugging rhythm section to do the hard work. The relationship in the song might have been “pissed up the wall,” as Williams in his Richard Thompson-esque drawl puts it, but The Tubs certainly seem to have figured out how this music thing works.

Chris Liberato

Venus Furs — S-T (Silk Screaming)

Venus Furs by Venus Furs

Venus Furs sounds like band, but in fact, it’s one guy, Paul Krasner, somehow amassing the squalling roar of psychedelic guitar rock a la Brian Jonestown Massacre or Royal Baths all by himself. These songs have a large-scale swagger and layers and layers of effected guitars, as on the careening “Friendly Fire,” or hailstorm assault of “Paranoia.” A ponderous, swaying bass riff girds “Living in Constant.” Its nodding repetition grounds radiating sprays of surf guitar. You have to wonder how all this would play out in concert, with Krasner running from front mic to bass amp to drum kit as the songs unfold, but on record it sounds pretty good. Long live self-sufficiency.

Jennifer Kelly

Witch Vomit — Abhorrent Rapture (20 Buck Spin)

Abhorrent Rapture by Witch Vomit

Witch Vomit has one of the best names in contemporary death metal (along with Casket Huffer, Wharflurch and Snorlax — perversely inspired handles, all), and the Portland-based band has been earning increasing accolades for its records, as well. They are deserved. Witch Vomit plays fast, dense and dissonant songs, bearing the impress of Incantation’s groundbreaking (gravedigging?) records. Does that mean it’s “old school”? Song titles from the band’s previous LP Buried Deep in a Bottomless Grave (2019) certainly played to traditionalists’ tastes: “From Rotten Guts,” “Dripping Tombs,” “Fumes of Dying Bodies.” And so on. This new EP doesn’t indicate any significant changes in trajectory or tone, but the songwriting makes the occasional move toward melody. See especially the second half of “Necrometamorphosis,” which has a riff or two that one could almost call “pleasant.” If that seems paradoxical, check out the EP’s title. Is that an event, a gruesome skewing of Christianity’s big prize for the faithful? Or is it an affective state, in which abject disgust somehow builds to ecstatic transport? Who knows. For the band’s part, Witch Vomit keeps chugging, thumping and squelching along, doling out doleful songs like “Purulent Burial Mound.” Yuck. Sounds about right, dudes.

Jonathan Shaw

yes/and — s-t (Driftless Recordings)

yes/and by yes/and

This collaboration between guitarist Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and producer Joel Ford (Oneohtrix Point Never) is an elusive collection of shape-shifting instrumentals. Each piece is built around Duffy’s guitar, yet the timbre and mood tends to switch dramatically between tracks. The album’s run-time is fairly evenly split between dark, atmospheric pieces, such as “More Than Love” and “Making A Monument,” and hopeful, glimmering miniatures, such as “Centered Shell” and the wonderfully titled “In My Heaven All Faucets Are Fountains.” “Learning About Who You Are” looms large at the album’s heart, as nearly eight minutes of hazy, wind-tunnel drone pulses and reverberates across the stereo space. Despite the variation in tone, each track stakes out its own territory in the tracklist, and it’s only “Tumble” that comes across as an unrealized idea. While it’s only half an hour, yes/and feels longer, its circuitous routes opening up all kinds of possibilities.

Tim Clarke

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