Cackling with energy and warmth, this debut album from the Madrid-based quartet is an effortless joy. Carlotta Cosials and Ana Perrote’s dual vocals circulate in a hazy mist around giddy guitars to produce gorgeous garage-pop gems like the woozy “San Diego” and bouyant “Warts.” But it’s not all sun-drunk and carefree. “Catigadas En El Granero” is a feverish riot while “And I Will Send Your Flowers Back” and “I’ll Be Your Man” reveal the band’s vulnerable—and joyously vengeful—side.
More trauma and travails with the magnetic Detroit MC. Like *XXX* and *Old* before it, *Atrocity Exhibition* plays like a nightmare with punchlines, the diary of a hedonist who loves the night as much as he hates the morning after. “Upcoming heavy traffic/say ya need to slow down, ’cause you feel yourself crashing,” Brown raps on “Ain’t it Funny,” a feverish highlight. “Staring the devil in the face but ya can’t stop laughing.”
Maxwell spent years searching for the perfect sound in his head. blackSUMMERS\'night shows the wait was worth it. Silky ribbons of organic R&B flutter out the speakers. Dark synths on “Hostage” and “The Fall” shows Maxwell moving with the times yet sounding positively timeless.
Composer, performer, and producer Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith's new album EARS is an immersive listening experience in which dizzying swirls of organic and synthesized sounds work together to create a sense of three-dimensional space and propulsion. Dense and carefully crafted, each of the songs on EARS unfolds with a fluid elegance, while maintaining a spontaneous energy, and a sprightly sense of discovery. Listeners familiar with her previous album Euclid (an album that prompted Dazed to call her “…one of the most pioneering musicians in the world.”) will no doubt notice her heavier use of vocals on EARS. On all but one song, her gently ecstatic swells of vocals emerge to soar over a dense jungle of synths and woodwinds. Much of the album's warmth and energy stems from Smith's use of the versatile analog synthesizer, the Buchla Music Easel. According to Smith, “…nothing compares to the sound of a Buchla. In my mind a Buchla synthesizer has the most human sound in it. I wanted to show the Easel’s versatility and range of motion within a live set. I also wanted to spend as little time as possible in front of the computer during the creation.” After initially composing on the Buchla, she wrote arrangements for a woodwind quintet, added vocals, and further refined the pieces with granular synthesis techniques she developed in her sound design work (she contributed sound design to Panda Bear's “Boys Latin” video, and handled sound design and original compositions for Brasilia co-written by and starring Reggie Watts). Though the pallet of sounds Smith employs on EARS is darker than the ebullient tenor we heard on Euclid, she's careful to let in just enough light to covey a feeling of cosmic bliss and transcendence. Kinetic arpeggios of synths pulse, often buoying her graceful vocal mantras, while woodwinds breathe and flutter, emulating the wildlife Smith observed while growing up on the West Coast (she even studied recordings of slowed down bird calls prior to composing these pieces). Though some of her gestures echo the musical tropes used by early minimalist composers, the world she creates on EARS is uniquely hypnotic and full of life, not unlike Miyzaki's film Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, which she cites as an inspiration. EARS is a masterful articulation of Smith's vision, which she achieved in part by spending time preparing her mind prior to composing the album. As she explains, “I am very intentional about the months leading up to when I am going to compose something new. I really trust the subconscious and try and feed it only information I want it to feed back to me. I make playlists that I listen to nonstop, or have images I look at daily, or I go to places I want to be inspired by…I do all this prep work and then try and forget it when I am writing.” Listening to EARS, it's clear that her approach paid off, and that the seeds she planted within have born a vibrant and hyper-natural world that's as joyful to experience as the flora and fauna that inspired it.
Recorded at train stations between Chicago and L.A.—you can actually hear passengers bustling in the background—*Shine a Light* captures Billy Bragg and Joe Henry rambling through classic railroad tunes in fine folky form. They cover ramshackle blues with a ragged take on “The Midnight Special,” while their weathered voices mingle beautifully on the lonesome Americana of “In the Pines,” creating a somber vibe. The nostalgic “Early Morning Rain” caps things off with a pensive melody that conjures sing-alongs on a porch in spring.
One-man cottage industry Ty Segall has assumed so many different garage-rock guises over the years (from Stooges-style fury to glammy, T-Rex-esque ballads) that the blend had ultimately become his own. A strange, restlessly catchy album glazed with buzzing synthesizers and alien vocal effects, *Emotional Mugger* stitches together the fever-dream psychedelia of Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd (“California Hills”) with warped humor reminiscent of early Frank Zappa (“Baby Big Man (I Want a Mommy)”) into a sound as alluring as it is unsettling.
(what are they thinking) guitars sliced with scribble graffiti sprawled across the hemispheres; stuttered, stunted, dual-mono machine dreams flashing sudden stereophobic and back again / two screens alone together squeezing shaking oozing metallic pool like brain blood, slowly draining away all mental life. shaking ass / nihility at most corrodes candy’s gone no more fun
‘Centres’ is the stunning new album from Vancouver-based vocalist / composer Ian William Craig, and his first release for FatCat (Max Richter, Hauschka, Dustin O’Halloran, Jóhann Jóhannsson, etc) following two critically lauded back to back albums for Recital Program. Ian William Craig is a trained operatic vocalist who combines his voice with analogue synthesizers, reel-to-reel machines, and faulty tape decks to create sublime cascades of unpredictable decay and beauty. Though classically trained and grounded in the choral tradition, Craig’s early albums were centered significantly around the piano, with his voice merely a marginal presence. But in recent years his practice has come to focus increasingly around his powerful voice, as can be witnessed on ‘Centres’. Fundamentally distressed yet texturally lush, ‘Centres’ is an immensely deep, rich and rewarding listen. It was recorded in an assortment of studio and other locations across his Vancouver hometown: in concert halls and classrooms; train-yards and live rooms, as well as Craig’s own home. It was created using a mixture of sources - synthesizer, Hammond organ, guitar, accordion, wire recorder, loop station, Craig’s array of re-purposed tape decks and “cassette choir”. The songs were created manipulating tape loops through two or three decks at once to create strange deteriorating delays with different colors. Craig would then circuit-bend the bias to create odd kinds of distortion, or bend the sound back into itself so it feeds back in unpredictable ways. Continually honing and pushing this process, the album shows a quite brilliant attention to textural detail. Morphing, swirling, scouring, shimmering, it continually expands and contracts around you. Forging a harmonically gorgeous and utterly immersive listening experience, it pulls you from the rousing, slow-build of the opening ‘Contain (Astoria Version)’ through the standout ‘A Single Hope’, with its huge bass and Hammond organ swells, and through shifting cloud-zones of ‘Drifting to Void on All Sides’ or ‘Power Colour Spirit Animal’, the Nico-esque accordion opening of ‘The Nearness’, and back to the cyclical ending of ‘Contain (Cedar Version)’, one of the cleanest and sparest tracks here - pared back to the purity of a single voice and guitar. ‘Centres” is a stunning album that stands with a similarly unique sense of vision and integrity as the likes of William Basinski or Colin Stetson.
The difference between Charles Bradley and a so-called soul revivalist is that, for Bradley—who was 67 when the third and final album of his lifetime, *Changes*, came out in 2016—soul never died in the first place. Like the work of Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings (whose affiliates the Menahan Street Band provide most of Bradley’s musical backing), *Changes* doesn’t sound like a lost ’60s album so much as a found one, retouched and dusted off, sonically saturated in a way that wouldn’t’ve been possible 50 years ago. And while Bradley spent years as a James Brown impersonator, his delivery has more in common with what you heard in the balladry of Otis Redding: pained and reflective (“Changes”) but resilient (“Good to Be Back Home”) too—the sound of everything to give and nothing left to lose.
The patriarch of New Orleans R&B recorded one last session before he passed away in November 2015. *American Tunes* features solo piano recordings made at Touissant’s home studio as well as others made with guests like Jay Bellerose, Bill Frisell, Rhiannon Giddens, and Van Dyke Parks. He’s in fine form, too, lending his singular style to songs by Professor Longhair, Duke Ellington, Fats Waller, Paul Simon, and beautiful originals like “Southern Nights.”
On his second album Oxford University student Kiran Leonard employs fragile folk, abrasive post-punk, math-rock polyrhythms and a body-image parable about a squid. And that’s all in one song: the epic, flighty “Pink Fruit”. Even if his overwrought vocal and naggingly melodic riffs suggest Jeff Buckley, everything else he conjures is impressively singular in abandon and ambition. Particularly enthralling is “Don’t Make Friends with Good People”, a Petri dish of noise-rock, afrobeat, chamber pop and throaty angst.
mostly recorded 2013-15 --- this is the noisy one with lots of guitars
Intoxicating future-jazz messages from a distant galaxy are beamed your way on this freewheeling psychedelic debut. Conceived as a side project for saxophonist Shabaka Hutching, TCiC benefit hugely from the fact both synth-specialist Dan Leavers and drummer Maxwell Hallett know their way around a 3am dancefloor. “Space Carnival” packs hyperactive afrobeat horns and “Lightyears”—augmented by Joshua Idehen’s charismatic spoken word—is a stunning nebula of frenzied improvisation.
The Comet Is Coming. Our saviours Danalogue The Conqueror, Betamax Killer and King Shabaka come bearing their debut album Channel The Spirits. A prophetic document. A celebration. The beginning of the end. Marvel! As it blazes a streak of phosphorescent beauty across the night sky. Listen! As a trailing meteor shower drops hot coals hissing into topographical oceans. Inhale! The burning funk of strange new flavours. The sound of the future... today. Channel The Spirits is shortlisted for the 2016 Mercury Prize.
EMEGO 227 Hubris continues the exploration of relentless, driving rhythms heard on Ambarchi’s Sagittarian Domain (2012) and Quixotism (2014). Where those records looked to Krautrock and techno for their starting points, the sidelong opening track here begins from the perhaps unlikely inspirations of disco and new wave, drawing particularly from Ambarchi’s love of Wang Chung’s soundtrack to William Friedkin’s To Live and Die in L.A. Leaving behind the song-forms of these reference points, Ambarchi weaves a sustained and pulsating web of layered palm-muted guitars from which individual voices rise up and recede, eventually setting the stage for some lush guitar synth from Jim O’Rourke. Arnold Dreyblatt collaborator Konrad Sprenger contributes overtone-rich motorized guitar, pushing the piece into a satisfying intersection of shimmering minimalism and rhythmic drive that smoothly builds up until the entrance of Mark Fell’s electronic percussion in its final section. After a short second part, in which Ambarchi, O’Rourke and Crys Cole pay tribute to the skewed harmonic sense of Albert Marcoeur with a track built from layered bass guitar figures and abstracted speech, the long final piece pushes the concept of the first side into darker and denser areas. Joined by electronic rhythms from Ricardo Villalobos and the twin drums of Joe Talia and Will Guthrie, the layered guitars of the first piece are transformed into a raw and tumbling fusion-funk groove that calls to mind early Weather Report or even the first Golden Palominos LP. As this stellar rhythm section rides a single repeated chord change into oblivion, a series of spectacular events emerge in the foreground: first, aleatoric synthesizer burbles from Keith Fullerton Whitman, then slashing skronk guitar from Arto Lindsay, until finally Ambarchi’s own fuzzed-out guitar harmonics take center stage as the piece builds to an ecstatic frenzy. Few artists could hope to include such an incredible variety of collaborators on one record and still hope for it to have a unique identity, but Ambarchi manages to do just that, crafting three pieces that emerge directly out of his previous work while also pushing ahead into new dimensions. Francis Plagne
Folk singer Meg Baird climbs behind the drums to lead Heron Oblivion, a heavy psych quartet anchoring her fragile, lilting voice with rumbling squalls of distortion. That unlikely combination pays off handsomely as these tracks unspool over up to 10 minutes at a time. The guitars are alternately chiming, rootsy, and acid-fried, achieving a fevered sprawl on “Oriar” and evoking Sonic Youth’s splintered poppiness on “Faro”. Bluesy and full-blooded, this debut will also appeal to fans of Bardo Pond and the noisier side of Low.
Pastoral pummel. Listening to Heron Oblivion's album feels like sitting in a lovely meadow in the shadow of a dam that's gonna heave-ho’ any minute. Members of this new San Francisco combo have put in time in both raging and relatively tranquil psychedelic sound units—this is the premise and the synergy behind this very unique and special new album. On the West Coast side, Ethan Miller and Noel Von Harmonson were together in the mighty Comets on Fire, who spent a large chunk of the mid-2000s playing unbridled, blistering rock worldwide, fueled by a steady diet of amphetaminized Crazy Horse, High Rise, MC5, Chrome, and Fushitsusha. They were molten and melting down at all times—with twin-guitar blowtorch jams inflected with Noel's careening electronic infusions, and songs and structures holding on to the wheel (barely) while destruction ensued. Noel did time afterwards with Sic Alps and Six Organs of Admittance, while Miller settled into a new level of interactions with Howlin' Rain and Feral Ohms. Charlie Saufley resided at the psychedelic pop fringes with his band Assemble Head in Sunburst Sound (kindred spirits to Comets to be sure.) He was joined in California by Meg Baird of Philadelphia's Espers. The East Coast connection, Baird was an already-established leading light in the modern psych-folk canon both in Espers and as a solo artist (most recently releasing the gorgeous Don't Weigh Down the Light LP on Drag City,) as well as original drummer for Philly's post-hardcore degenerates Watery Love. Ethan and Noel were loosely jamming in an improvisational unit called Wicked Mace at this point. Via osmosis, Charlie and Meg came floating in for weekly hangs that still resided in a somewhat free zone. "We just did pure improv’ for a few months under no pressure to 'be anything' or 'be a band'", says Miller, "I think Noel and I sort of pushed for the idea of Meg on drums, me on bass, and Noel and Charles on guitars just to mix it up a bit, get outside our usual mold a little." Though Noel and the newfound rhythm section took roles with instruments they were familiar with—but not particularly known for—ideas bubbled up quickly, and each member contributed to the songwriting process. "As expected, Charles and Noel had killer guitar chemistry, incredible fuzz sounds, symbiotic interplay," Miller recounts. Though a multitude of other parallel musical projects kept the pace slow for the foursome, it moved steadily forward—and down paths much less trodden and familiar for the players involved. It was something new, unfamiliar, and invigorating to say the least. Eventually, seven songs were tracked at Eric Bauer's San Francisco studio “The Mansion,” and the results are stellar. Three shades of light run through Heron Oblivion: Baird's rich, beautiful vocal approach, the locked-horns bass and drums of her and Miller's streamlined-but-motorik rhythm section, and a twin guitar tapestry that both aligns with the dreaminess of the songs and crackles out of containment to froth over the rim. It's a seamless but pronounced thing: "Oriar" sports dramatic spires of solos that fly high out of the gate, slowly settling in to lilting verses then exploding again, "Rama" drifts like an Opal/Fairport wedding with more tumbling, syrupy electric lines all around. Meg's gorgeous singing resides within an untouchable domain and never struggles, nor has to combat the avalanche of guitars that ebb and flow. The only other record this could be remotely compared to maybe is the Slap Happy Humphrey record on Japan's Alchemy label years ago, where female vocal melodies combat sick walls of noise guitar. But in this case a definite West Coast style reigns—where elements meld rather than stand as opposing black-and-white walls: Even the heights of guitar destruction on Heron's "Faro" build steadily and organically from the beginning to end. The group first properly gigged in April of 2014 opening for War On Drugs. They finished the record independently, then inked a deal with Sub Pop in early 2015. Most recently they toured the West Coast with Kurt Vile and Cass McCombs. -Brian Turner/Music Director WFMU Jersey City NJ
