More ambient / isolationist / death-drone wholesomeness from Crucial Bliss, this time courtesy of A Crown of Amaranth, some mysterious dude who likes wading ass-deep in grim ambient noise. The nine tracks on this disc are highly textured slices of gritty noise and droning keyboards -- laced with the occasional psychotronic bomb blast, just to keep you on your toes and all that -- with a dark and majestic feel. Imagine one of the original Norwegian black metal gods (especially the one still chilling in that cell in Trondheim, natch) trying his hand at power electronics and you get the idea. There are exceptions -- "suffocate" is filled with peculiar noise frippery and the grunting sound of mechanical pigs, for instance, and "the white ship of pleasures i'll never know" is just plain balls-out noise hell -- but most of the album (well, the first half, at least) is devoted to droning ambience and power electronics. Of course, the last track ("the effervescent lady's in demand") is just plain strange, opening with found sounds and a hesitant, stop-and-start minimalism that resolves into heavily-reverbed bursts of surprise over a buzzing necro guitar. Strange, perplexing, and unpredictable, not to mention deeply mysterious and highly individual. And no, I have no idea what's up with the artwork, although it sure is swell, isn't it? All the reviews I've seen of this so far have referenced Michael Stipe and R.E.M. more than anything else, but I think this upstate NY band probably has more in common with the Mountain Goats (and maybe sometimes the Red House Painters). What makes it interesting is that nothing here is straightforward -- the songs are great and so is the playing, but they mix elements of folk, country, rock, and electronica in such a manner that I'm sure some people have a hard time getting a handle on what they're doing. (What they're doing, incidentally, is usually rocking out.) Imagine early R.E.M. with Neil Young in an eclectic mood on guitar and a healthy interest in filling out the sound with peculiar electronic textures (usually in subtle fashion, although not always). The psyched-out reverb abuse in "Delgado" is nice, as are the strange sounds lurking around the edges (and occasionally barging upfront) in "Eyes Like Stars," but the real meat here is in the more straightforward songs (mainly the first half of the disc). At times they make me think of a traditional folk-rock band with country leanings who decided to add some extra pizzazz to the songs by dialing in strange tones and effects, but what I like most about them is how well they play and how often they catch you by surprise when they abruptly shift gears from the low-key country-rock and start rocking out. It's certainly a schizoid approach, but that's okay by me. They get enormous bonus points for the packaging, which includes a nicely-illustrated "booklet" and a cardboard eco-pack sleeve reminiscent of the old Independent Project releases. Come to think of it, there's probably a little bit of Savage Republic and maybe even Tone in there somewhere. Don't be afraid of the unexpected... there is no need to approach with caution... you do know you need this, right? Scary, droning noisedeath that's every bit as rude as the cover indicates (bonus points for all the dead bodies in the artwork). I know absolutely nothing about the band (probably actually one alienated dude doing unholy things with pedals and tapes in his basement, I'm sure), but I seem to remember earlier releases being way more in the vein of harsh noise, whereas this is somewhere in the middle of a sonic triangle with noise, industrial, and drone at the points. (It's interesting to note that on earlier releases they've covered Burzum's "Dungeons of Darkness," kind of an unusual move for a noise band.) In some ways the sound and presentation here remind me of Brighter Death Now, but mostly it's an excuse to latch onto sick, sick sounds and repeat them over and over while adding layers of high-pitched feedback, morose pounding, the occasional anguished wail in the background, and other ugly attempts at ruining your hearing. "La chambre a gaz" is particularly excruciating, crawling along for over ten minutes and built on a corrosive loop over which everything gets incrementally more toxic. "Syndrome gravitationnel" is more like the early stuff, just a face full of blinding white noise and crashing about, along with a few of the later pieces ("Desertique" is particularly pleasing in its wholesale obnoxiousness), and "Les dernieres minutes" is built around what sounds like a deliberately truncated sample of heavy breathing (well, maybe) and flucuating waves of feedback; "Ergonomie" is similar, while the title track is a return to cut-up screaming junk noise. All of it, frankly, is disturbed and dark and repulsive and more than a little bit unwholesome, just the way a good noise album should be. So painfully grotesque that you'll be tempted to hurl in your fez -- and then you'll have to come back for more, since that diabolical noise is just so tasty.... This is the first full-length proper (following an obscure demo) from Anhedonic, the duo of Shawn May (vocals, guitar, drums, keyboards, "nonsense") and Chris Jones (bass and "subliminal persuasion"). The eight songs on here combine elements of industrial, goth, and occasional bursts of vaguely metallic guitars to create an updated take on the darkwave sound that first gained popularity in the nineties, in the wake of goth and industrial / ebm's first wave (Skinny Puppy, Front 242, take your pick from the Projekt roster). Moody synths and mechanical beats form the structure of songs that are further enhanced by floating, disembodied vocals, stuttering guitars that appear briefly from time to time, and the obligatory film samples. They're not exactly breaking new ground here, but the songs are good and they have a talent for creating dark, atmospheric moods. While they combine a lot of elements in their sound, they lean primarily toward melodically-inclined gothiness over post-industrial beats, which makes for an interesting sound. Bonus points for the rude defacement of the Virgin Mary statue on the flip side of the case. Canadian drone-master Aidan Baker returns... or did he ever go away? Man, between his solo works and Nadja, Aidan sure releases a lot of listenables. The hell of it is that they're all good, sometimes even absolutely brilliant. This is one of the more brilliant ones -- two insanely long (the "short" one is over 26 minutes; the other is nearly thirty) slabs of growing, festering, dark drone hell. Minimalism is the man's forte, and he's perfectly content to take his time letting the cloudlike sound ebb and flow, as the density of sound and tone steadily but almost imperceptibly changes. The material on these two tracks was pieced together from four-track recordings (some damaged, some subjected to tinkering) of electric and acoustic guitars, plus drums on the second track. The results of the layering of sound are long, drifting expanses of rumbling, droning soundwaves. This is music for the patient (or the extremely stoned) -- nothing happens in a hurry here, believe me. There's some nice guitar bits toward the end of "periodic 1," while "periodic 2" adds pokey drums into the drifting, floating mix. If you've heard his solo work or anything by Nadja, you have some idea of what to expect here. Deep and mysterious drone mantras, suitable for your next armchair journey (or for playing in the chill room). Limited to 250 copies. This is, I believe, Nate Young from Wolf Eyes/Mini-Systems/Jean Street and a computer. I don't know what programs he's using or what the source was, or blah blah... and I don't care. This is simply put: TRIPPY AS FUCK. I was simultaneously scared and intrigued with every second that this CD was in my player. Just one long track, lots of weird sounds... starts with a kind of lurching bell-toll kind of thing with what sounds like a guitar popping it's head in at a fairly rhythmic pace... then some harmonica and the sounds of shit being scattered everywhere start coming up from below... the same creepiness keeps going throughout. After a bit it turns into something quite different. The lurching bell-toll thing goes away and we are given a new "beat" courtesy of a really old-sounding piano through a shitload of reverb. Some spring reverb "whip" sounds provide another facet to the beat later... this goes on for a bit, then at the ten-minute mark or so the sound drops out and is replaced again by heavily delayed banging. This continues creeping you out and getting progressively weirder as the track goes on. Am I hearing voices? Then at twenty minutes all sorts of weird watery sounds start flying around... only to move into some feedback loop punishment. Really nicely recorded, I feel like I'm in the room or something. Keeps the trip going until the end, when things calm down and get ambient before you're met with silence. Fucking sweet. Mine is #61 of 77! [Dillon Tulk] I knew what to expect when I put this my CD player. Holy fuck. Allright, it's rad that this thing came with a "Warning, this video will MELT if left in the car or sun!" sticker on it... and a "horror" sticker as well. The cover is a picture from "Three on a Meathook"... (apparently the most hated horror flick of the harsh noise community)... blood-splattered CD... allright, how about the sound? A collection of rare and unreleased Controlled Bleeding throughout time. Paul and Chris start off immediately in the right way by kicking you in the teeth then howling until they collapse. The track is appropriately titled "Swallowing Scrap Metal No.9"... the rest of the album follows suite... all harsh masterpieces. Varied instrumentation throughout, but with pleasant effect. Mostly screaming and tape-fuckery, with some guitar and drums and other electronic randomness popping their heads up occasionally. An unrelenting assault on the ears, Controlled Bleeding show exactly why they are one of the best noise acts in the United States and will be until they're buried... my friend Zach, also a harsh-noise fan, actually asked me to turn this album OFF at points because "It is just way too HARSH, in every sense of the word"... that's a compliment. "Hymn No.1" and "Hymn No.2" change the pace quite nicely, with ambient field recordings trailing into classic "soundtrack style" synthesizer soundscapes. Monk-like vocals. Man, this last track is EPIC. Allright, it's done. [Dillon Tulk] This mysterious album is the work of one Brian Daniloski, who is also a member of Meatjack. The opening track, "thinning the herd," opens slowly with shuddering drone and noise fading up as someone rants (about what I can't tell, but he sounds most agitated), until the song devolves into a drifting cloud of static and a simple keyboard (or maybe guitar) motif that's repeated over and over as noise washes over it. Repetitive, maybe even looped, sounds permeate the album, as the opening of "the place where there is no darkness" demonstrates. There's a lot of ambient sound on this album in addition to the inexplicable chittering noises, at least on the first two tracks; things get much heavier (big, thundering drums and lead-primer guitar) on "my house," while the drone action gets thicker and more intense on "drag the carcass." One of the heaviest tracks is the closing "dies irae" -- big, groaning guitar lurching through near-static riffs as sonic effluvia churns in the background for four to five minutes before fading out the way the album faded in. Nice. If you're looking for a particularly menacing and cryptic slab of death-drone, or if you're a Meatjack fan curious to see what he's up to on his own, then this is definitely recommended. The nifty album art doesn't hurt, either. Now this is what I call an improv ensemble: Ernesto Diaz-Infante on acoustic steel-string guitar, Robert Montoya providing electronics, Marcos Fernandes on percussion and "phonographies," and Rent Romus on sax, voice, and "toys." Between the four of them there's about 75 years of improvised experimentation crammed onto this disc -- nine tracks of upredictable noises and improvisational strategies with a distinctly acid-jazz feel. The first seven tracks were recorded at Hit Single by Randy Fuelle and mixed by Fernandes and Montoya; the second two tracks are actually one long (17:33) piece broken into two parts, recorded at MCASD Downtown by Jeff Wilson. The studio tracks include a lot of incidental sound, most likely from field recordings, in addition to the actual playing, with a resulting sound much like a series of improv jams happening in a room with the window open. There's a nice balance between the clean studio sound and the sounds of real life, and while they're inclined to let things drift toward chaos if that's where the energy is going, for the most part this is relatively low-key, controlled chaos. It's also the first time in a while I've heard Diaz-Infante actually play his guitar (which he does real well) rather than just using it to make perverted sounds, which is nice. The long live jam, "an offering of interconnectedness (live at spring reverb 04) parts 1-2," has a different (but not overwhelmingly so) sound to it thanks to the location, but otherwise fits in well with the rest of the album -- in fact, in a sense it works as a summation of the ideas of the previous tracks, with plenty of time and room to stretch out. Fans of any of the individual players will not be disappointed by this swell collaboration. The back of the CD states "mostly recorded with contact mics, mics + stereos." The next 86 tracks (yes, 86) took me on an interesting journey through mud-fi guitar pickings, flute freakouts, standard metal-bashing, and howling vocals. The first release on Max's Oceans of Missouri label shapes up to be a very well-rounded exciting album! Each track is usually short enough to grab your attention, but not so drawn out that it's annoying. Usually the nice screechy feedback you can expect, with weird stuff thrown into the mix (like Max yodeling). Some tracks are really trippy and put me in a trance kind of, then the next one would start and would be all "KSSSSHSKREEEEE"... some are really pretty sounding. Number 7 in particular is a really nice guitar track with lovey lyrics about the moon and stuff that is a nice change of pace from the screeching before (and after) it. Track 12 is a hip hop song and RULED. I wanna hear more stuff from Max like THAT song... the DJ Dog Dick tape wasn't enough bro. A Niel Young reference within the first two verses of a rap track? "Use the energy in a positive way, keep tha haters and ho's at bay, thats what I say"... hell yeah. Tracks 13-86 are incredibly annoying, but trance-inducing 31 second long tracks of a loop of elevator music that changes slightly as the tracks progress. Then it's all over. Very nice. [Dillon Tulk] Starts off with some demented synth stuff...simultaneous painfully low and high pitches wandering around and making you bob your head. Goes on with varied progression and change for a little over three minutes. I like that homemade synth that Max has. Creates some very nice chirpy highs that are probably responsible for my tinnitus. Track two is some creepy vocal grossness. Sounds that you don't wanna hear coming out of someone's mouth amplified and screeching... with that trippy synth providing a nice backdrop. This is seriously GROSS sounding. Parts of it made me picture puking. Track three is a rad track with wayyyy too high-pitched synth noodling and Max singing some stuff all clipped and barely intelligible, with some scattered circuit-bent beats coming in and out of the beast. Track four is another awesome synthxperiment. Lots of chirpy trippiness dancing around the headphones and making me confused. Heavy on the chirps and squeal. Slooowww moving trance. The rest of the CD explores similar territory... I really liked it, I hate to say it, but very "Nautical Almanac" sounding... haha. Mad Max! [Dillon Tulk] I have to admit, I wasn't expecting to hear flutes on a Crucial Bliss release. HAH! So the opening of "lunaire," the first track, threw me for a loop at first... but once the flutes receded and the dark waves of ambient sound started to creep in, it quickly became obvious where the band is coming from. The rest of the track sounds like old-school Maeror Tri, Troum, and Mandible Chatter, all drifting soundscapes and shimmering drones with bell-tones and ghost frequencies radiating all across the spectrum. The band, incidentally, is the brainchild of Ross Hagen, who compiles all sorts of audio (analog synths, field recordings, old demos, etc.) and mixes / processes said batches of sound to create new and deeply mysterious soundtracks. He is generally accompanied by other players in a shifting lineup (currently his cohort in sonic mysticism is Megan Garland, provider of the aforementioned flutes and, on occasion, vocals), but the sound and vision are largely his. The disorienting opener is accompanied by two other tracks, "sanctuary" and "jasli," all clocking in at a total of more than 52 minutes (brief he ain't). All of the tracks are mesmerizing drone epics with a certain tonality that's dark without being forbidding, dreamy without being nightmarish, and so heavily enveloped in reverb that you would think the album was recorded in an ancient, crumbling cathedral. Highly recommended. This makes a perfect companion to the Aidan Baker release reviewed earlier, incidentally. The husband and wife duo from Cali responsible for the brilliant 2003 electropop album AND I'M THE QUEEN OF THE MOON return with an even more complex and lushly orchestrated album about death, loss, grief, and other equally heavy stuff. The thing is, you'd never know this without reading the lyrics, because while the album's lyrical content -- largely a reaction to the death of singer Adriana's mother -- is often dark and forbidding, the band's sound is one rooted in electropop, folky acoustic guitars, and gorgeous singing, which makes it easy to miss the album's thematic issues if you're not paying attention. They've been compared to Kate Bush and Tori Amos (mostly, I suspect, on the basis of Adriana's singing) and This Mortal Coil (which is really kind of reaching, but still not totally ridiculous), but they're far more accessible than TMC and nowhere near as "quirky" (aka "whacked-out") as Kate and Tori. The twelve songs (the best ones, incidentally, are the opening funeral march "Initiation," "Simply Sleep," and "Huntington," but the rest of the material doesn't lag far behind) on the album feature a nice variety of textures, beats, and rhythms that never stray too far from the band's core sound, which keeps the album flowing without making it sound disjointed. A lot of the songs on this album frankly have more in common with folk music than electronic body rock, and given the weighty metaphysical issues at hand, it's not surprising that the album rarely "rocks" -- but that's okay, because ethereal dreampop rarely sounds this good and intelligent at the same time. Neil Gaiman (SANDMAN, etc.) thinks they're pretty hep, and he's right. Bonus points for the nature-themed artwork and the deeply fuzzed-out synths on "Wraiths." It's rare (or it used to be, anyway) to hear experimental music based on traditional, even folk, instruments -- but that's the strategy at work here on Atlanta, Georgia artist Amelia Peel's third release on her own label Kittenwhip. She recorded the album's sixteen songs at home on a four-track over a period of years, and the result is a dreamlike series of fractured and heavily processed neo-folk interludes. It's not just a neo-folk record, however; while she employs traditional instruments (most notably acoustic guitar), the heavy use of reverb and other efx transforms what would have been largely straightforward tunes into haunting, surreal journeys through a mysterious and disjointed landscape. She's also not afraid to throw in incidental sounds (squeals, squeaks, pops and shrieks, snippets of conversation, and jarring flanged noises), and as a result it frequently sounds like a hapless folk singer pleading her cause from the bottom of a well as unidentified objects rain down from above. It's a dark and creepy sound, probably informed as much by Current 93 and Death in June (or maybe even Jandek) as much as any traditional folk artist. Even the packaging is unusual -- the cd-r is swaddled in a folded, printed sheet of stiff paper approximately the size of a cd, with artwork by Peel in addition to the liner notes. Prepare to be mesmerized by the haunting, subterranean, and frequently hypnotic tracks on this disc, and be ready to expect the unexpected. This is a really excellent album, first off. A very personal sounding collection of home recordings from 2001. The band is Tom Carter, Shawn McMillen, B.C. Smith, and Matt Martinez... hard to go wrong with a band whose line-up is such. Track one is a varied, drugged romp through ghostly guitar jangling, jarring synth notes, scattered clinky percussion... and turns into somewhat of an 'ebow duel' as it moves along, with two guitars providing substantial blankets of feedback over the rest of the improv bed. I'm enjoying being bathed in high pitches. Track two is really fried sounding. HEAVY Ebow. Like I'm in a swamp or something... I dunno. This is making me feel like I'm listening to a soundtrack CD for some bizzarre western. Spacey guitar wrangling and increasinly hallucinatory building layers of odd sound. Track three starts off with mild percussive elements and some piano twinkling. Very trance-inducing slow changing palette of sound. Birds? Is that a snake's rattle? Knocking on wood? Are these people *gasp* on DRUGS? This track turns out to be the longest (and best)...23 minutes of varied instrumentation and a whirlwind of changing sounds... the epic soundtrack guitar returns... this is just too good. I don't know if this is still available but you should definitely try and track it down if you're into any of the dudes involved other bands. This will not dissapoint. Plus, you'll love this pencil drawing of a rabbit on the insert... he looks bored, but maybe the music is just getting him stoned. [Dillon Tulk] This is the new shit from John Wiese and Brace Paine... fucking WEIRD. The band name is Xeaxx Xeaxx, but is pronounced "Heavy Seals"... allllllright. All the songs are hella short and full of that schizophrenic Wiese-ness I suppose... but theres different sounds at play here than typical Wiese stuff. I keep hearing all sorts of bizzarre shit. A saxophone. Mouths. Already I'm annoyed at how short the songs are but thats the whole point, I guess. I can't really figure out whats going on before I get smacked by a new batch of weird sounds all cut-up and flying around my ears like bees. Track four gets pretty wild. Creaking and distortion and what sounds like a demon having an asthma attack (but is probably a contact mic on some shit). This is good. This is very good. I look forward to hearing more of this stuff. Track six is live. Sounds like smashing metal and screechy sax freakout stuff, awesome. This is reallllly dense and psychedelic sounding cut-up madness. Reccomended. [Dillon Tulk] They've been around since 1992, but don't feel bad if you haven't heard of them -- they're from Poland, after all, and they didn't get around to releasing their first proper album, HUMAN FLESH, until a few years ago. (In between they released a couple of demos and splits.) They play what they like to call "gorephobic slaughtering metal," meaning gore-infested lyrics belted out in a subhuman death croak and accompanied by superfast drums and blazing guitars. (Actually it's just bass and guitar -- the group is a trio.) This is pure classic gore-leaning death metal, heavily influenced by the first wave (Death, Dismember, Obituary, etc.), and while it's not exactly brimming with originality, they make up for it with soul-crushing rhythms (when you can make them out -- the production is less than stellar) and insanely manic drumming. Titles like "Dying Sound," "Human Meat," and "Genetic Deformations" tell you pretty much where they're coming from before you even throw the disc on, and the gross waves of sound bleating from the speakers shortly thereafter absolutely live up to the titles. The one huge drawback to this album is that the recording isn't as good as I would like; half the time the sound is this thick wall of fuzzed-out sludge accompanied by a drum sound that could be a lot better. (Then again, this is still recorded at least as well as any of the early classics, and sounds better than some of them.) Nevertheless, they're beyond fast and supremely intense, which is always a good thing. With luck, they'll manage to improve on the recording next time around, at which point they should be utterly skull-crushing. They get bonus points for being from Poland just because I like Polish bands (and because Polish women are beyond hot, not that this has anything to do with death metal). I'm pretty sure this is a side-project of Murder By Static, and it's certainly different from that band; this is more about combining glitch electronica, chopped beats, and catchy keyboard figures. It's also purely instrumental, which means it can function as background music if you're so inclined. In fact, this is probably the best way to experience the disc, although listening more closely will certainly make you more aware of the textures and tones. Clipped, loping rhythms coexist with shrill, droning synth bleats and far more melodic keyboard passages; glitch noises rise and are swept away by ambient backgrounds. Some of the tracks even incorporate a swell lounge-jazz sort of feel. The nine tracks on this disc, taken as a whole, resemble soundtracks for an independent film about exploring the mysteries of the night, from smoky clubs to the dark woods at the edge of town. A nice change of pace from the more industrial and grinding context of C. Stepniewski's other work. Side a is a slow, creepy crawl through the shimmering air in a vacuum-formed 70s kitsch plastic replica of Socrates' cave. First review of this I saw compared it to ASH RA TEMPEL and other kosmische bohos, but Herr Gottsching would've given his left nut for the kind of guitar/electronics sustain unleashed here. it doesn't really sound like either MOUTHUS or AXOLOTL, truth be told, and I'm avoiding using the word "drone" because this doesn't, it ebbs and reverberates. Until that whipsawing guitar part pulls itself from the muck and begins scuttling down the beach on fungous stalks, muttering in pidgin Sumerian. Side B celebrates the death of a harmonium with ritual pantomime; a warbling, harmonic (feedback?) loop is gradually buried as speaker cones slowly extrude nanostrands of stiff pink fur like fiberglass insulation. Sympathy and dissonance birth a phantom throb; candles are aimed at the moon; vision bleaches and fades; windows melt. Doesn't build so much as accumulate. [gafne rostow] The third release by MBS finds electronic dervish C. Stepniewski mixing elements of hardcore techno, ebm, and industrial beats with drill-press drum 'n bass and ambient textures. Over thirteen tracks, beats collide and segue into ambient moments, occasionally breaking out into hyperactive drum 'n bass rhythms. With no vocals (outside of the occasional shout or sample) to get in the way, the album is a constantly shifting river of beats, keyboard washes, and violent drilling that never stays locked into any particular pattern or motif long enough to become boring and static. Apparently designed for extended sessions on the dance floor, there's certainly more than enough ass-quaking motion here to get everybody out of their seats. Very little of this is blindingly original, true (something that would be difficult to achieve anyway, given the genre's total reliance on beats and the long line of forerunners blazing the path before him), but the way it's assembled and the constant forward motion make it rewarding enough to hear. Besides, whiplash beats are always nice.... This wee li'l three-inch cd-r is the work of Sarah Lipstate, who shapes two-to-three minute bursts of noise from voice, theremin, field recordings, banjo (?!?!), and effects. The effects are the most obvious -- there's plenty of processed electronic frippery on the seven tracks here -- but the sound is less about all-out carnage and destruction than it is about stacking up blocks of sound and texture that work well together. The strategies she employs on this disc are far removed from the usual blinding wall-of-death power electronics one might expect from the artwork and the label; this is more like glitch electronica fed through heavy reverb abuse. The tracks generally have a bedrock, core noise going on, over which other sounds drift in and out (or occasionally just bulldoze through). Some tracks like "Shok" may make you think your cd player is on the fritz, though. I like the use of field recordings to add ambience and quiet moments amid the crunchy bursts of antimusic and noisy earhurt. Watch out for the sixth track "Langis," however -- that one is WAY beyond out of control, and about twice as loud as the rest of the disc. Swell experiments in sonic abstraction and (at times) pure ass-quaking noise hell. Limited to thirty copies. This three-piece band from Philadelphia are definitely cut from the hard-beat industrial cloth; think Front 242, Skinny Puppy, KMFDM, and the like. The eleven songs on here, though, also nod in the direction of more psychedelic acts, and while the beats are heavy and the guitars often pile-driving, there's a lot of swirling, ambient sound that one might more rightly expect of a darkwave or ambient act. There are moments that are considerably less intense, however; check out the opening piano on "Aura," which is eventually bracketing by loping beats and keyboard washes, until a hypnotic, grinding guitar (if that's what it is) comes in. The introduction of "rising" contains some sick tones as well, and there are definitely some strange things happening in "the binary age." The bulk of the album, nevertheless, is squarely in ebm / industrial dance territory. Unlike many bands in those genres, however, this band generally gets a better (or more interesting, anyway) drum sound and they have some seriously diabolical guitar sounds. The singer's style harkens straight back to the early days of industrial dance, and wouldn't have been out of place on a Cabaret Voltaire album. Strong material and good sounds make this worth checking out for those who miss KMFDM and the first wave of ebm. Things you should know: 1) The guitarist (Drew St. Ivany) and bassist (Ben Armstrong) used to play in Laddio Bolocko, the obscure and critically acclaimed group who broke up a couple of years ago. 2) This band formed just five days before a scheduled tour of France and Italy in late 2002. Their original drummer, Tatsuya Nakatani, has played with heavy cats like Peter Brotzmann, Peter Kowald, and Ken Vandermark. 4) This release, which provides audio evidence of the band's beginnings and first tour, was originally released on the band's own imprint as a (presumably limited) cd-r. 5) This reissue, on cd and in a nifty digipak, tacks on an eight-minute Super 8 film of the band. 6) All the songs were recorded live to cassette using one stereo microphone. So what does it sound like? Well, pretty much what you'd expect: Three guys making a loud and improvised psychotronic racket. First off, don't be fooled by the implications of how the material was recorded; the sound is good, clear, and LOUD. The music is strange, hypnotic, repetitive, minimalist, and at times just plain scary in its deliberate weirdness. Which is not to say this is terribly original -- it seems nowadays like every third band sounds like it was weaned on Painkiller and Last Exit records, doesn't it? -- but most of those other bands aren't this good, much less this demented. This is improvised psychedelic noise for people hopped-up on drugs and looking for things to break or set on fire. I'll bet this band is a lot of fun to watch. Grab this while you can -- it will probably disappear soon enough, and in another couple of years you'll have to fork over obscene amounts of cash (just like trying to snag the original Laddio Bolocko releases!) on Ebay to hear this completely devolved exercise in instrument immolation. I was very pleased with this album. Can't comment too much on it, though. A nice blend of scathing noise and vocal drones. I've only heard a little bit from this band but I really enjoy what I've heard and look forward to more. A very hallucinatory and strange experience. There's varied percussion popping up on here from time to time, and quite a bit of heavily effected howling. All in all, it provided a nice soothing backdrop for me to slowly drift away to while under the influence of some sleeping pills and Lone Star. [Dillon Tulk] Short but severe, these madmen burn through eight tracks of cut-up, fucked-up antimusic in just over ten minutes. Adam Cooley (programming, samples, guitars, keyboards, and efx) and four other sonic terrorists (Sean Edwards, Corey Monster, Brandon Seely, and Kyle Willey) shovel on tape gibberish, devolved beats, crazed bursts of noise, video game effects, shouting, and other hysterically out-of-control madness. You can't even tell where one song ends and another begins; it's just ten minutes or so of what sounds like angry mutant bumblebees growing to the size of your average Pittsburgh Steeler and rampaging through a recording studio, turning things on and off at random, playing too many things at once, and occasionally getting all chilly 'n ambient just long enough to disarm you before trying to stuff 137 different sounds down your ear canal at once. Perverse, disturbed, and highly amusing. Best titles: "after i die, speed noise will live forever" and "seriously, this is the last time i'm going to do this." Your cerebral cortex will never be the same. Limited to 250 copies. Remember how your mama always told you spanking that monkey would make you go blind? Well, so will listening to this. We're talking full-on violent noise hell, cut-up electronic filth, filled with buzzing, shrieking efx abuse and plenty of bass-heavy overmodulation. There is nothing socially redeeming about this. It's definitely influenced by Macronympha -- half the time it sounds like disparate snatches of junk noise scattered across four tracks with the faders and panning being jiggled violently and at random -- but there's also plenty of high-pitched squeaking and squawking that's coming from a totally different direction. There's also a lot of chatter (I would assume of a pornographic nature, although it's kind of hard to tell with so much chaos going on) in the background from time time, buried under the avalanche of crunchiness. The crunchy bits are what really do it for me.... A lot of this is genuinely painful in its deliberately hideous screech, too. Things get especially gruesome toward the end of the first side. Not that the flip side of the cassette is any more soothing, mind you. Jagged bursts of sonic violence and high-pitched wailing are the name of the game here -- not to mention periodical avalanches of pure rumbling grossness. Vile, vile, vile, just the way a good noise cassette should be (and that doesn't even factor in the disturbing cover art). Your ears will be thankful that the sonic mayhem only lasts twenty minutes. This self-released three-inch cd-r contains two tracks by the nifty Austin noise / antimusic band Skillful Means. Unlike a lot of noise bands, they are less about power and more about drone and drift, creating hypnotic mantras out of odd sounds using a variety of instruments and efx. "Gak" is the more disjointed and "epic" of the two, moving from different moods and textures (sometimes approaching something near catchiness), while "You Make My Eels Feel Weird" lives up to its brilliant title with efx-soaked repetition that rises and falls over droning keyboards and fuzzed-out howling. It sure ends abruptly, though! A welcome slice of perverted sound that remains firmly in the noisy psych camp, without ever crossing over into full-on power electronics. If you want to scope it out, your best bet is to contact the band directly (that's what the links over to the left are for, right?). If you're ever in Austin and have the opportunity to check them out, you should definitely do it. Part 6 in the Skin Crime archive series, WHOREBUTCHER collects tracks from the out-of-print WHOREBUTCHER and AMERICANOISE tapes from Mother Savage, and the track from the NOISENET 3 comp on Noise Taiwan. The experiences given life by the sounds on this album are that of utter, filthy terror. The feelings and thoughts of a prostitute before, during, and after being savagely cut-apart by a sick fucking madman. Hallucinatory bubblings and shrill feedback waltz around the headphones in an effort to help you understand WHY. Constant abuse. You can't escape this sound, no matter how hard you try. There is always another facet sneaking up and stabbing you with no remorse. There is a portion on the album that I felt incredibly comforted and lulled almost to sleep by the nature of the noise... much like the roar of the ocean can be comforting... towards the end I definitely was made to feel uneasy. You should definitely check this one out for yourself... but I was really just unsettled and felt WRONG after listening to the track with the girl being repeatedly hurt and screaming for more through streams of tears. Those are all the details you get. [Dillon Tulk] This is the latest release from the prolific and eccentric mind of L. Erickson and phantom guitarist Charlie Ward, a strange mix of electronic, psych, beat-heavy industrial (old school, mind you, like Front 242 and Cabaret Voltaire) that's deeply strange but highly listenable. Erickson has shared bills with the likes of Electric Hellfire Club and the Legendary Pink Dots, and his sound is somewhere between those two extremes -- possessed of a deeply sardonic and peculiar sense of humor, with complex layers of beats, traditional instruments (mainly guitar and keyboard), weird stuff, and mysterious vocals that are sometimes stacked and processed (but not in the usual cheesy manner that has become the spoiling point for so much industrial dance slop). Titles like "Let's Howl Like Night-Monkeys!," "I Love You Like A Shark," and "Ten Percent Brain" offer clues to the strange inner workings of Erickson's mind, and despite clear linking points to earlier industrial / psych / ebm acts, The Spider Translator manages to achieve a unique and sometimes baffling sound. One of the most interesting things about this disc is the way the beats are definitely present but don't overwhelm the rest of the songs, like a lot of overamped post-industrial music. Weird but good, especially in the use of nifty beats and the offbeat structure of some of the tracks. Worth looking into, dudes and dudettes. Still is actually Hsi-Hang Lin, who was one of the members of Dalek until he went solo recently, and his solo gig consists of creating dark ambient soundtracks using only a set of Technics 1200 turntables and a lot of efx pedals. It's a pretty bizarre idea, and one that I certainly never would have imagined could work, but it does -- and then some. The obvious reference points would be DJ Spooky and Aphex Twin, but Lin's down with a considerably more industrial sound (much of the album actually sounds more like the rhythmic gyrations of heavy machinery than anything else) and his ambience is filled with dark, menacing intent. Many of the tracks are built over repetitive motifs, with one monolithic rhythm providing a bedrock over which to layer lots of other rhythms, sounds, and incidental spookiness. The sounds aren't so much heavy as they are oppressive and melancholy, sometimes even otherworldly, and there are even some genuinely beautiful tones mixed in with the sonic chaos on "Blindness," the album's only live track (which doesn't sound terribly different from the rest of the album, as it happens). Lin spent two years carefully creating, collecting, and layering sounds into a complicated grid of sonic architecture, and it shows. Fetishist collector types will probably want to know that the first thousand copies come with numbered, limited edition artwork. Journalistic ethics require me to admit that I know the guys in this band and think they're swell human beings, so I'm horribly biased. Having said that, I'm compelled to point out that the band with the second greatest name in the history of civilization is first and foremost a live band, and there's no way a mere round slice of aluminum can properly convey the experience of seeing musclebound Russell lurching all over the stage while yelling about crack cowgirls and the joys of being from Tejas. The songs themselves are basically long jams -- they are stoner rock, you see? -- with a sound somewhere between Black Sabbath and ZZ Top. They bring the rock (and lots of squiggly lead playing), yes, along with plenty of wah and reverb abuse. Every now and then Russell actually remembers he's supposed to singing and hollers something vaguely incomprehensible but entertaining. Fair warning: If you are not down with the whole southern-fried boogie / stoner rock / no sound dated later than 1978 thang, then you should probably avoid this disc and go waste your $$$ on useless shit like Korn. If you're ready to rock and aren't bothered by endless jams and some highly intoxicated Texan yelling at you while doing the guitar crunch tango, then you will want this. I have seen the band something like a dozen times (at least), including one gig where I had to rescue Russell when he nearly fell off the stage in some hideous shotgun bar, and they have never been less than swank (although I still kind of prefer the psychotronic sound of the original trio lineup -- no disrespect to Derek, a serious rhythm god, but the band was really far more bizarre when Russell had to take care of all the guitar diddling himself). Bonus points for the eternally prescient line in "SSOB" that goes "Sweet home / goddamn / I'm a motherfuckin' TEXAS MAN!" And it goes without saying that you absolutely should not pass up an opportunity to see them live. Word. Housepig is an interesting new label that sprang up in late 2004 to release noise, drone, and ambient albums, and just on the strength of this release I'd say they're definitely a label to watch. The "six doors" here are six different takes on ambient noise by Aube, Bastard Noise, Unicorn (the solo project of Bastard Noise's W. T. Nelson), Oblong Box, Guilty Connector and Tabata, and Luasa Raelon. The Unicorn track "sleeper wave" takes a highly unorthodox approach by opening with absolute silence -- a silence that fades up into a loud, groaning note from a Rhodes piano, then fades out amid higher-pitched overtone notes, a motif that's repeated (including lengthy pauses of silence) for over twelve minutes. It's one of the most minimalist tracks you'll ever hear, and you'd be surprised how effective it is. Aube's "shackle" finds him once again using variations of sound derived from a single source (what the source is this time is a mystery, though); over a crackling bed of static, a whirling cyclotron of sound gradually increases in volume until it is the dominant sound... at which point it begans to change in tone and texture, and sometimes speed, as additional sounds are added and subtracted over a period of nearly twelve minutes. (All of the tracks here, incidentally, are approximately ten to twelve minutes long -- this is ambient noise for the patient, dig?) Despite the band's forbidding name, the Bastard Noise track ("flesh near automation") is actually one of the most ambient tracks on the disc. Of course, it's also punctuated by harsh, near-inhuman howling at the beginning, before the pained grunting is washed away by thick sheets of rumbling drone and and melancholy keyboard ambience. The Luasa Raelon track "infradimensional" picks up where the Bastard Noise track leaves off, with ambient washes and floatiness that sound like icy wind howling through a frozen range of glaciers, while "trance oscillation form limbo" -- the collaboration between Guilty Connector and Tabata -- sounds like an army of UFOs getting tangled in the power lines of radio towers and is actually one of the loudest tracks here. Tabata has obviously not forgotten that psychedelic noise is sometimes the best noise. The final track (from Oblong Box, with the nifty title "the knife that cuts the handler") is one of the more subtle ones, with drawn-out drones and pinched electronics, a tidal pool of sound that ebbs and flows for nearly ten minutes. This is all strong, strong stuff -- one of the best noise compilations I've heard in a long time, actually -- and you're dumb, dumb, dumb if you don't at least look into it. I want to start this review off by stating that I am a huge fan of John's work. Anything he does, I will like. So sorry. Anyway, this is a collected CD of works from 1992-1999, when John was a teenager. It goes in chronological order from most recent to earliest. The work stays brutal and recognizable the whole way through, John definitely has a signature sound. Incredibly psychedelic and schizophrenic harsh-noise bursts. Everything is moving around my headphones like wasps and I can't get my feet on the ground. I feel like I'm in a tornado of tacks and feedback or something. This is just amazing. I'm definitely impressed with how Wiese's sound has progressed so much, but never lost it's harsh edge. The last tracks on here from when he was 14 are just as good and mind-peelingly caustic in sonic nature as the second track (that I recognize from "Popular Music for Popular People")... I heartily reccomend purchasing this ASAP from Troniks. It's an excellent personal view into the workings of one of todays best harsh noise artists. [Dillon Tulk] Yes, Weakling is deader than dreams (I think), but that's okay, because Wolves in the Throne Room are just as bad-ass, if not quite as ruthless in their relentlessness. Imagine the best things about Burzum, Mayhem, Darkthrone, Emperor, and early Ulver, then tack on guest vox from the likes of Jamie (Hammers of Misfortune) and Dino (Asunder), and what you have is four blinding tracks of atmospheric, epic, raging black metal that collectively clock in at over an hour (brevity is not their strong suit, but that's fine by me). Two of the songs here, "Queen of the Borrowed Light" and "(A Shimmering Radiance) Diadem of 12 Stars," are remakes of songs from their 2005 demo, although the latter has been "shortened" here (meaning it's now only twenty minutes long instead of whatever insane length it was on the demo). It's true that things start getting a tad messy when they pile on the speed (maybe they're carrying the Darkthrone worship a tad too far, eh?), but the overall brilliance of these monolithic slabs of fear and loathing overrides such trivial concerns. One song, "Face in a Night Time Mirror" is broken into two parts; the first part includes a striking female vocal, while the second part features lots of really twisted (in a chromatic sense) chords and pained shrieking. Best of all, when they blaze they go all-out, and they have a talent for seguing effortlessly from the atmospheric bits (often leavened with folk guitars) into the grim blackness popularized by all those church-burning heathens in Norway. Tim Green of The Fucking Champs engineered and mastered the recording, so you know it sounds good (which it does). Finally, a USBM band worth getting excited about...!
All reviews are by RKF unless noted at the end. Other reviewers are: Amanda, Gafne Rostow, Dillon Tulk, and Neddal Ayad (n/a).
Crucial Bliss
A Crown of Amaranth
A Crown of Amaranth -- LOVE LIES BLEEDING [Crucial Bliss]
Albumen
Albumen -- LAKE DESOLATION [Treble Hook]
Cipher Productions
Ames Sanglantes
Ames Sanglantes -- LE CRI DU PENDU [Cipher Productions]
Anhedonic
Anhedonic -- COMMON PLACED DISEASE [self-released]
Crucial Bliss
Aidan Baker
Aidan Baker -- PERIODIC [Crucial Bliss]
Fag Tapes
Betrayor -- s/t [Fag Tapes]
Troniks
The Cherry Point
The Cherry Point -- NIGHT OF THE BLOODY TAPES [Troniks]
consisting of Phil Blankenship on all electronics, and collecting recordings throughout history, "Night Of the Bloody Tapes" is another consistently shredding Cherry Point album. Mixed by John Wiese (so you know it's subliminally trippy as fuck) this album doesn't let up for one moment. With the savagely dense, layered Cherry Point sound you've come to expect, each of the four tracks pummels you fiercely and don't apologize. I find Phil's wall of noise very trance-inducing for me, personally. One of my favorite artists, for sure. I can't even describe how this album makes me feel! There are so many things going on and you're getting tastes of so many different sounds... but it's ALL totally thick and painful. Unforgiving, definitely. Too bad it's already sold out. [Dillon Tulk]
Hospital Productions
Controlled Bleeding
Controlled Bleeding -- SKANKED AND SLITHERING [Hospital Productions]
At A Loss Recordings
Darsombra
Darsombra -- ECDYSIS [At A Loss Recordings]
Public Eyesore
Diaz-Infante / Fernandes / Montoya / Romus -- REVERBERATIONS FROM SPRING PAST [Pax Recordings]
Oceans of Missouri
Max Eisenberg -- s/t [Oceans of Missouri]
Oceans of Missouri
Max Eisenberg -- MARCH OF THE SLIMES [Oceans of Missouri]
Crucial Bliss
Encomiast
Encomiast -- HAVENS [Crucial Bliss]
The Endless
The Endless -- THE REPUBLIC OF HEAVEN [Queen of the Moon]
Ethelscull
Ethelscull -- SENTIMENTALIA [Kittenwhip]
Twilight Flight Sound
The Friday Group -- WET FUR [Twilight Flight Sound / Wholly Other]
Troniks
Heavy Seals
Heavy Seals -- JAZZ BUST [Troniks]
selfmadegod
Incarnated
Incarnated -- PLEASURE OF CONSUMPTION [selfmadegod]
Deadsix Communications
Jax Pre Face
Jax Pre Face -- CHAPTERWOOD [Deadsix Communications]
Olde English Spelling Bee
Mouthus
Mouthus & Axolotl -- 12.25.04 [Olde English Spelling Bee]
Deadsix Communications
Murder By Static
Murder By Static -- TIDAL BITS [Deadsix Communications]
Green Ox Sound
Noveller -- VASOVAGAL [Green Ox Sound]
Psychaesthetic
Psychaesthetic -- INFINITY'S END [self-released]
Public Guilt
The Psychic Paramount
The Psychic Paramount -- LIVE 2002: THE FRANCO-ITALIAN TOUR [Public Guilt]
Troniks
Robedoor -- TOMAHAWK WRAITHS [Troniks]
Crucial Bliss
Scissor Shock
Scissor Shock -- WE'RE IN THE TRASH BAG [Crucial Bliss]
Dada Drumming
Scissortail
Scissortail -- ENDLESS LUST [Dada Drumming]
Skillful Means
Skillful Means -- GAK [self-released]
Self Abuse
Skin Crime -- WHOREBUTCHER [Self Abuse]
The Spider Translator
The Spider Translator -- SPEAKING IN MY GRAVE (MY SODDEN BEDSHEETS) [???]
Public Guilt
Still -- REMAINS [Public Guilt]
Arclight Records
Superheavygoatass
Superheavygoatass -- 60,000 YEARS [Arclight Records]
Housepig
v/a -- SIX DOORS [Housepig]
Troniks
John Wiese
John Wiese -- TEENAGE HALLUCINATION [Troniks]
Vendlus
Wolves in the Throne Room
Wolves in the Throne Room -- DIADEM OF 12 STARS [Vendlus]