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goodbysunball · 5 months ago

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You can really feel like you're here

As usual, it's been a minute, but still handling and playing large plastic discs on the regular. A nice variety for June, whether you want to scream at the void or bask in repetition or curl up and smoke ciggies. A short list of off-the-cuff 2024 favorites is at the bottom, too, for the short attention spans.

Arianne Churchman & Benedict Drew, MAY 2xLP (Love's Devotee)

A tip of the hat to Matt K.'s ever-reliable Yellow Green Red for hipping me to this record, something that on paper I would generally pass up but plays out like an invigorating fever dream across four sides of wax. Stealing from the label's writeup: "MAY employs at its base a flank of analog synthesizers, field recordings and Churchman’s layered vocals, each combining to form a beautifully dizzy sonic collage that often spirals out across long durations into hypnotic rhythms and jubilant melodies." The magic is in how the duo manages to effectively take the same trick, going from folk song to swelling grandeur, on nearly every track while still retaining the same sense of wonder. Though, for me, it was the marathon opener, "The Cuckoo," that really did the trick for me the first listen. In a sense, "The Cuckoo" is the line in the sand, as the way it unfolds is much darker and dissonant than anything else on the record, and the dissonance hangs around for a healthy chunk of time. After that, the record basks in the sun, meadows and valleys, Churchman's vocals ceding to the environment of buzzing and gently swaying synthesizer. Something like "Down by the Green Groves" sounds like a Broadcast record or tape left in the sun for weeks, then played at half-speed as it disintegrates. "Day Song" sounds like a properly warped rendition of something off The Wicker Man soundtrack, a fiddle or banjo plucking a melody over plodding drums and sighing, sawing synthesizers. Only "Searching For May" returns slightly to the dissonance found on "The Cuckoo," the titular search turning into slightly desperate yearning, but on the whole MAY is shot through with an appropriate amount of sun-baked awe for the natural world. Experiencing the record on headphones while walking along a beach felt deeply spiritual, as cheesy as that may sound; but the sounds contained here seem designed to be played or experienced in open spaces, to commingle with their inspiration. Outta nowhere gem, and limited to only 350 copies, surely not long for this world once word leaks out.

Matt Krefting, Finer Points (Open Mouth)

The latest from tape manipulator/sound sculptor/Idea Fire Co.-man Matt Krefting, quietly released back in January on Bill Nace's Open Mouth label. This is the first solo outing I've heard from him since the Lymph Est LP on Kye, and it's a stunner, albeit one that skews somber and unadorned. Matt works in a sound world that's been done to death in the last decade or so: tape loops, brittle scrapes and plucks, lonesome mechanical hums, and some keys/synth sprinkled in ("An Eye on the Future," heartbreaking) to soften the landing. In the hands of most, that's a combo you can safely miss, but Krefting has the skill and restraint to make the sounds inviting, enveloping and captivating the listener. The bassy plucking on "A Double Request" feels of a piece with Robert Turman's Flux, but the sounds double back on themselves, twisting the strings into a net to capture your body while your mind wanders. The same goes for "Both This Life and the Next," which even includes the mbira heard across Flux, but there Krefting lets the tape distortion seep in and eventually consume the slow progression of notes. When he wades into field recordings or drone, the sounds feel removed from the action, sometimes foggy ("Let's Look Again") and sometimes deliberately encased in glass, perhaps a not-so-uplifting commentary on screens and devices displacing human-to-human contact. In that sense, the record feels more empathetic than most in the genre, choosing to engage with the darker, depressive emotions rather than cloak them in distortion and remove all human trace. As far as contemporary reference points go, Finer Points reminds me of Incipientium, but less cold and bleak and more tender, as if handling century-old artifacts and recognizing a common humanity. The feather-light synth on "Just to Have Him Around" closes the record, the sun easing up in the sky after a particularly stormy night, a splash of faint yellow to the decidedly fuzzy gray that colors most of Finer Points. Great reading soundtrack, and for those willing to go deeper, a rich, sensuous landscape that comes out just fine on the other side. Sold out from the label, but Forced Exposure somehow still has a few of the original 200 copies.

Thou, Umbilical LP + 7" (Sacred Bones)

Much respect for the grind of Thou, a band that's somehow both risen from and stayed true to DIY ethics, draped in scathing philosophizing and often wretchedly heavy music. (The Sisters in Christ record store rules, too.) For various reasons, I haven't followed the band closely in the past decade, but the outta nowhere collaboration with Mizmor, Myopia, bested both groups' recent works in my estimation, a sound that married Thou's heaving sludge with Mizmor's black metal, each pushing the other to more violent extremes. The press release teased that Umbilical was Thou's hardcore record, and while I guess that's relatively true due to the shorter song lengths and, on some tracks, a discernible verse-chorus structure ("The Promise"), the LP plays out like a singles compilation. It’s as if Thou returned to the days where they released a split with anyone every other month. If you, like me, are a fan of Thou songs like "Smoke Pigs" and "Don't Vote," you'll find a lot to like on Umbilical, easily the band's best record since Summit. The idea behind the record is vocalist Bryan Funck criticizing himself and Thou in the guise of a much younger, more militantly DIY or anarchistic version of himself. The lyrics are vicious, and the music shows up prepared for the evisceration: "I Return as Chained and Bound to You" ranks as one of Thou's heaviest, recalling the Their Hooves Carve Craters in the Earth 10", and "Lonely Vigil" drags the listener through quicksand with its crawling, crushing riffs. "House of Ideas" meanders at the end for a little too long, but this is a lean, tight record, worthy of all wild and tired descriptors that basically say "heavy" over and over. The physical package includes a 7" with two more tracks, both leaning more toward crowded punk tempos, riffs buried in the maelstrom of Funck's shredded vocals. That the two tracks were placed on to a 7" makes them feel more like afterthoughts, which they're not, but when the eight-song LP is properly satisfying, it probably means it's not a 7" I'll be revisiting often (even if the end of "Unbidden Guest" rules). Umbilical is a spoil of riches in that sense, an appropriately crushing soundtrack to vitriolic self-flagellation that reinvigorates an old sound with new twists.

Verity Den, s/t LP (Amish Records)

It took me a long while to check out Verity Den's LP, something I quickly bookmarked months back, but it's been played to death the last few weeks in my hut. The trio from Carrboro, NC use loud, gauzy guitars like their shoegaze forebears, and their songs patiently unfurl like the smoke from a snuffed candle. From the opening chords ringing out on "Washer/Dryer," it's clear this band isn't the ten-thousandth rehash of Loveless but something much more strange; Casey Proctor's vocals flutter on the surface like Meg Baird's in Heron Oblivion, and the lyrics unexpectedly leave a dark, wet trail, knocking the listener off-kilter. A track like the gorgeous "Prudence," featuring some beautifully hesitant and restrained guitar work, somehow has with the opening lines "Broke-ass ho/where'd he go?/Owes me dough," while other song titles like "Crush Meds" and "Everyone Thought You Were Dead" point to a much bleaker launching point for these songs than the end result does. An exception might be "Other People," which glides along on a motorik beat, the subtle chord change at the chorus causing chills both times it hits. The LP is a collection of separately released tracks or releases, but only the relatively conventionally structured "Priest Boss" feels slightly out of place, though it's clear the song is woven into the fabric of the record when the title's repeated in the lyrics of "Other People" later on. Verity Den plays out like settling in to the pleasant buzz of a second beer, but doesn't dissuade stormier currents from running through your brain. Extremely strong and affecting debut; fans of True Widow, Mount Trout or the aforementioned Heron Oblivion would do well to check in with Verity Den posthaste.

Water Damage, In E 2xLP (12XU)

Water Damage quickly follow up last year's incredible 2 Songs with In E, a new double-LP of their raison d'être: heaving, droning repetition delivered at maximum volume. Might be the inclusion of a violin this time around, but In E feels lot more classical than the band's previous work, slowly shifting away from "rock" and evolving into a proper ensemble, albeit one with a heavy reliance on feedback. There's one song per side here, the last being a perfectly fine cover of "Ladybird" by Shit & Shine, but one that adds little to the ground covered by the first three tracks. Grayson Haver Currin accurately labeled the record "a rare mind eraser for our increasingly plugged-in times," and that's really the calling card for the band's discography. "Reel E" kicks off the record, the ensemble swelling over the same drumbeat for the duration. Feedback, guitar and violin saw away at the ever-expanding mass, sometimes combining to sound like the wheels of a train scraping against its metal track. It's my favorite thing the band's done so far, powerful and invigorating minimalism pushed to the red, capable of blotting out everything wrong in your sphere for 20 minutes. Things slow a little on "Reel EE," the drums left alone for the first few minutes, until everyone else kicks in to create an ecstatic drone that seems to continue rising upward forever. "Reel EEE" feels the most wide-open, taking five minutes for the drums to lock in, featuring stabs of guitar cut short in deference to the shrill flute/violin combo. The band shows an uncommon restraint on "EEE," but after "Reel E," it feels like Water Damage peeling back the layers lessens the smothering, mind-altering effect of their best tracks. A group like Incapacitants can blast away the listener on every track and I still own multiple records by 'em; seems like Water Damage could do the same if they wanted. Still, there's no arguing that In E is a powerful statement, the whole record buzzing, simmering and occasionally screaming with the ecstasy of repetition, something that a lucky few get to experience this summer and fall as the group plays a few dates outside of Texas. If the heat doesn't make you have visions, I've little doubt that Water Damage and In E will do the trick.

Favorites of 2024 so far:

42 Dugg, "Wock N Red"

Bobby Would, Relics of Our Life LP (Digital Regress)

Thomas Bush, The Next 60 Years (Jolly Discs)

Chief Keef & Mike WiLL Made-It, Dirty Nachos (43B/Eardrummer/RBC)

Arianne Churchman & Benedict Drew, MAY 2xLP (Love's Devotee)

Contaminated, Celebratory Beheading LP (Blood Harvest)

Klonns, Heaven LP (Iron Lung)

Matt Krefting, Finer Points LP (Open Mouth)

Light Metal Age, s/t CS (self-released)

Jim Marlowe, Mirror Green Rotor In Profile CS (Medium Sound)

Phill Niblock, Looking For Daniel CD (Unsounds)