Sunday, January 31, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
I quite like this, sorta beefyhearts and bendy ideas, glowing finger buffets of Hammond organ... something I'd imagine T/B sounding like in ten years or so...
this grooves too, produced by harrison don't yr know, there's this eerie child grasping an Indian doll on the back that's giving me itchy pencil sketches... sounds are too smooth not as good as this rhinestone...
and finding this was like a tick on the grail list, just for that one track mind... 'Marsist' epic gtr aktion, where as the rest is a bit shit...
otherwise Il y a longtemps que je t'aime got me all tear soaked and second hand lions too... mum dad's crying
Saturday, January 23, 2010
This is a lush coupling... the mellowest I’ve ever heard Joe, as he reins in the sonic damage to supply wobbly edges to Christelle’s vivid guitar neurosis. A semi-improvised concoction of milky alabaster spillages and fret sparks this bleeds out a therapeutic shower of soft folding vibes. Diaphanous treads wound round a bowed string backdrop. The cyclic guitar spurring on a distant chantery, faint fragrances of Cocteau twins, Cranes and Lisa Gerrard leaking through all that hypnotic gooiness. The guitar always switching the scenery, constantly searching, keeping things interesting as side one melts away on hazy directions.
The flip is definitely my favourite… The way the vocal climbs as wafers of Taj Mahal Travellers are thrown into the mix … multi tracked vox giving out Anatolian blisters and far-flung mysteries… The sonics riddled with mirror warped contours and cloud bursting clarity. Gentle thunder and guitar flux, a semi screechy carnage with hints of metal riffery … the guitar soaring out on elastic tangents, packing plenty of clout… all drawn back to bask in quieter aesthetics and the fluorescent silence of deep sea life.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Mosquitoes sawing away in birdcaged heads///---> flies leaving their twitching legs on the sticky paper... tiny fret coma's and Javanese squeaks...opening up to grief saturated violence, where rusty gates sound like gulls frying in power cables… The motion is slow, the angles and juddering forms leeching a jet black vibe... a riff mantra leaking out the best of Lee Ranaldo’s more apocalypto moments…
For the flip, the guitar is full of bad kebabs threatening to raise like a tidal Lazarus from your stomach... dislocating amp-age dragging an ink drenched compass through skin... Pneumonic, feverish… reminds me of a Kafka short story I once read or have re-imagined - where a man was fixed into a correctional apparatus that wrote his crimes into his flesh... Amongst the disfigured guitar you can make out distant screams, ritualised chant and sexualised insinuation... the machine carries on regardless through the bone to the other side, it's cutters eating into the framework that once held the accused....pissing smoke and arid tastes... continuing to rip into the soil, carve up trees, banqueting on anything, everything... This is desolate musick that even when finished, haunts your tinnitus with its sick aura…
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Friday, January 08, 2010
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
This an audio diary of a trip to the temple of Montu by Duncan Cameron (Dolphin into the future aka Lieven Martens), The A side is full of bird song and cantering gamelan, the other all squiggly hieroglyphics on travel sick tempos.
Journey's a tribal Loplop of feathery Matisse impressions flittering around perambulating xylophonics... horse hoofs and duck disputes... smatterings of harness bells....... Love the swishing bird dives that make you take cowering glances skyward and those freaky nocturnal hoots giving out their bassy edges. Finally, synth circles eat into all this, peppered in slippery quacks...
The flip, Glyphs, is so whacked I had to check the player wasn't chewing it up. Pitch shift smears and time lapse thumb pianos, bubbling like cheese under the grill...Wetland textures just dribbling away, suddenly taken to a Clangers loop. A rotary line of wobbling gelo keyboards, bringing out Mr soft 'mallow' perspectives, and disappearing on a pitter patter sign off.
Right now in the grips of the big freeze these heat haze atmospheres are very welcome indeed.
Side A - Journey.mp3
Saturday, January 02, 2010
Just squeezing in there for the end of 2009 was this intimate collection of home recordings from Reverse Mouth's, Panagiotis. This album burns like late night eyes, eeking out a parched and paralysed vibe full of whirring mental ills, beguiling sonics and some blindingly beautiful vocal play. Everything hangs together, breaks apart on a gristly river of effects, intravenously fed and spread out on stale bread. By the time it all fizzles out on cute vowel owls and preset beats, you're definitely left feeling the world is infinitely colder...
here's an album highlight for yer... convulsing on a lush electrical pulse and scuffle string... body come down.mp3