Saturday, June 30, 2007

More Coffin Years

Mr Olivetti puts typewriter to paper for this take on Coffin Years:

Azalea City penis Club
– I remember catching the band at the Croft, years ago, supporting Numbers. I don’t remember much about the music, but I do recall being hugely entertained and a little disappointed that they had no merchandise. Now, some years later, this album comes along and what a listen it is. 8 tracks spread over what seems like an eternity, but is probably about an hour. Each song, however, appears to contain about three little songs, all welded together by monster riffing and an extraordinary drum assault. In fact, it’s their love of guitars & their place in a true experimental four piece rock band, which holds this album together like sun-cracked concrete.

Coffin Years is a veritable casserole of guitar, as with each track a different guitar style is offered up for our delectation. Track 1’s AC/DC meets Fall groove, with shouty vocals thrown in; the sun-bleached riffing and train across the desert insistent drumming of track 2; the loose slightly South American feel of track 4; folk-picking & a lovely airy vocal turn on track 6 and the frankly manic inspired 10+ minute album closer which sees the leaden guitars duel with the rhythm section, involving kettle drums at one point, as the band constantly try to kill the song off each time, the song lurches back to life like some horror film zombie, desperately trying to prevent silence regaining control.

To be honest, the rhythm section is right up to the job, especially on the wicked Sabbath wig-out on track 7. I think the secret to this album’s success besides the sheer audacity of taking so many styles and twisting them to their own devices, making the whole thing work, is that all this overload and excess is actually a cocoon for what is in essence the beating heart of the album, the first part of track 5. The most deliciously melancholic guitar notes are offset against the sweetest background feedback I’ve heard since Idaho. Deep, resonant bass chords and gentle cymbal work create the most fantastic atmosphere, a little misty, a little grey, but real and British. It’s finally overwhelmed by a rush of volume, but not before we have seen the true core of the band.

This is a great, visceral album, recommended to guitar lovers everywheeeeere.

Mr Olivetti

If you're in the area...

Friday, June 29, 2007

Kevin Shields - Human Wider Experience



Nestled between some heavy duty (bone scraping) noise, is the track I really like from this new Kevin Shields release on Tanzprocesz. Not to be confused with the My Bloody Valentine kingpin , this Kevin Shields is the alter ego for Eva Aguila, a noise artist who apart from creating sonically challenged outpourings , packages her/and like minded releases in deceptively cute crocheted artworks that belay the evil awaiting you inside.

Children's Court is a 16 min plus wreckage of percussive guitar / frazzled vox and shape shifting distortions, a rough edged exploration into the beautiful heart of noise. Here sheets of acoustic reverberation are melded with scathing waves of generated sounds, bubbling on through, fracturing the base material into wayward shapes, new evolutions pop into existence then extinguish all too soon. At some points you wonder what’s feeding off what as the gorgeous mess unravels before your ears, leaving me with a dreadful craving for more.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Lunic Lapse

Lunic Lapse by Cloudboy

a recent sketchbook entry

Saturday, June 23, 2007

One for KID (formerly known as Shirt ) Moth



This popped into view this morning haven't played it for years... so Roedelius eases me into the day, the remix chaser being my mid-afternoon tipple, perhaps. Doesn't sound very moth-like though, all a bit too pleasant, needs more flickering shadow on the wall.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Blastocyst

'Switch that evil racket off', she yells from the sofa...

quickly adding 'I thought when I met you, you were sadly misguided with your fondness for those German metal bangers and the ramblings of that Smith character, but this takes the biscuit'

Turning the volume down doesn't abate the disagreement as the high end peaks still scrape the air in their brillo-pad majesty. 'This is awwwfulllllllll'

'Great music isn't it', I add innocently.

'This isn't music, it's bloody noizzzzzze.' she gripes

and at further protests the stereo is thrown into silence.

Some people think my wife deserves a medal for putting up with my inquisitive appreciation of all things musical, but i suppose that's love for yer.


Blastocyst - True Tales for a New American Century

As the name suggests this is a real BLAST...
...a playfully buckled drum n bass scuzz heavy trawl of electronic discourse. Gloriously loud stuff that i hope to get through in one sitting some day soon.

Moth Scrawls


In the wake of moth-mania littlest Cloudboy scribbles a response.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

A tongue in your brain and luke-warm beer

Argumentix - Beyond Party Destruction Time CDR



Straight off their Marseilles production line comes more conjectural oddity and underground sensation, something that you’ll definitely not find in your local HMV.

The paint job is suitably disco and the CDR is unusually packaged on a decorated bargain basement slab of vinyl – a cool anti-12inch, totally unplayable, being smeared in spray painted graduations.

The music cheerfully slashes at that ‘feel good’ party vibe, happily grafting the circuits into abruptly changing landscapes of post-industrial menace.

Argumentrix throws an abundant amount of malformed textures ahead of an equally plentiful collection of instrumental/song ideas, with this release coming across like a scrapbook exposure from a fertile mind.

The guy's got a great vocal style too. Authoritatively discontent, it's mixed with a slightly jaded/inebriated delivery that gives these 17 tracks depth and a marred poetic vibe that appeals to the likes of me, especially when it’s steeped in a suitable amount of delay/reverb. It also mixes very well with those attention-deficit electronics that are intent on playing shadow puppets with the rhythm.

Even when dealing out the abstract as on Stomache Flu you still get a powerfully visual impression, which in this case fits queasily with the title in liposuction debris and intestinal twists of sound.

Wish more party flavours were like this one, harnessing new shapes, patterns and of course the perfect excuse to create their very own accompanying dance moves.

Party on...

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Grab a bit of Placentaaaaa



Great looking Placenta Popeye release, with its coloured half-eaten xerox scrawl echoing the chaos of the music inside. The tracks here consist of neat bronchially challenged guitar action that coughs n splutters in broken lines of angular expectorant. The vox follows suit seemingly on the verge of asphyxiation, yelling its message out in a conked out pitch that sounds like the mutant offspring of Beefheart in places. Smashed and gloriously askew, like a wino support band from hell, they force their music into a space too small to contain it, the listener getting covered in the toxic overspill. I've been listening to this on my commute to Oxford, and its sonic charms have been a great in-car deterrent to road rage not to mention the classic looks I get from passers by as I'm stuck in traffic on baking hot days.

Already sold out at source, if you're quick you can still pick up a copy here and treat your ears to a caustic bathing.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Panagiotis Spoulos - Torpor



Like guitar tumours itching at your ear, I’m loving this album's slow seduction, the blurring of electronics with guitars. It’s chiming candlelight, vocal apparitions, percussive filaments and sonic extremes provide plenty of proof that there’s still life in them there strings.

It’s hard choosing a fav as the album works best as a whole, but I’m really fond of the deeply nocturnal ...Hair is Blood. An eerie combination of severed hands plucking the notes while a floating head drips the milky words - some anaemic Argento spillage wrapping my head in murky half-light.



Digging that fluorescent spray-painted doily effect on the disc - looks like a great place mat for your cuppa don’t yer think.


Sunday, June 03, 2007

Sonic Sanctuary 6

Whilst I was away soaking up the Greek sun like an insatiable reptile, Mr Olivetti was on the case with the latest sonic excursion over in Trowbridge. This is what he had to say:



This was my second visit to the aural lucky-dip that is the Sonic Sanctuary held behind the Lamb in Trowbridge. Four acts for just £4 and who knows what to expect, except for the organisers, a great night out in anyone’s book.

First up was the three pronged grunge-metal attack of Smog Monster. Gary, erstwhile drummer for Gentlemen’s Relish fronts this guitar-hungry trio, who slice up the 90’s grunge sound and fry it with a little metal. Gary’s rather plaintive vocals toast the ears of the assembled. This was their first gig ever. Witnesses to history, that’s what we were.

Second up was Alexander Thomas who was an extraordinary contrast to the preceding act. Up there just with a Theremin and digital loop machine, holding the audience rapt with his miniature orchestra. The skill involved playing his machine, let alone the timing required to layer the sounds made for a mesmerising performance. At times it sounded like violins and at other times, birds - fascinating.

Third up and on their last date of a mini-tour, were a three piece going by the name of Hysterical Injury showcasing a surreal post-rock sound. Two guys and a girl vox / bassist. Sounds good even without listening, but they really knew how to make a noise. The vocalist, yelling and dancing like it was 1979, the guitarist getting sounds out of his instrument that were utterly unnatural and a fantastic drummer, who was so fast, yet hard and amazingly still in time. They kicked up a superb storm as they tinkered away with their effects.

Finally the Bath band, A Neat Science were up. This four piece come from an emo-metal direction full of weird tunings and breathtaking switchback time changes. Their charismatic front man was screeching one second, singing the next, with the bass and drums keeping the whole thing on the rails, but only just! The bassist making it all look so easy, yet coming up with some lovely lines. In the corner, the guitarist wrestled with his instrument like he was trying to exorcise it. The singer even made his way up to the balcony to join the audience.

Honestly, it was a great evening. All bands were good quality and seemed to be really enjoying the occasion. If you are ever in the Trowbridge vicinity on the last Saturday of the month, you really need to find your way there.