JAh BLES$
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Livin' The City Hype
If you'd told us back in 2009 that Hype Williams would one day be
releasing an EP on Hyperdub, we'd have raised our eyebrows, but a year
or so later it actually makes sense - Dean Blunt and Inga Copeland's
predilection for sickly-psychedelic synths, rugged beats and a sense of
occluded urban dread making them a simpatico if still bold addition to
Kode9's stable. Have they altered their sound for the bass-heads? Nah,
course not, and nor do they need to - for all its lo-fi patina, Hype's
music has always been heavy-as-f*ck on the subs. That said, opener 'Rise
Up' is a pretty mellow affair, as anyone who heard the version on that
uber-limited white label issue earlier this year will already know; in a
similar vein to their Sade rip 'The Throning', it's an almost Balearic
haze of sighing strings, crisp claps, smacked-out boogie-funk-bass and
Copeland's distant, pining vocals. 'Boss Man' is a cheerier but witchier
number, synths strafing haughtily across unquantised drum hits;
'Farthing Wood Dub' is as cute and enchanting as its namesake, but still
delightfully unstable, like John Barry's Midnight Cowboy soundtrack
reimagined by a cracked-out Clams Casino. But it's the closing 'Badmind'
that's the masterstoke - sampled American voices delivering stentorian
lectures about death, auto-eroticism and, er, Ezra Pound against a shaky
gamelan and sub-bass backdrop somewhere between Ryuichi Sakamoto and
sino-grime; the lack of context for their ruminations, coupled with
droop and sway of the synths, is quite overwhelming in its effect Yep,
this EP is just mind-melting, low-end-savvy audio surrealism as only
Hype Williams know how; a big, big 12". [boomkat][dl]
A Winged Victory for the Sullen - A Winged Victory for the Sullen[Kranky]
The brilliance of Adam Wiltzie never ceases to amaze me. As a member of Stars of the Lid, Aix Em Klemm, and the Dead Texan, he is responsible for some of the greatest ambient / post-classical music ever put to tape. Paired with the pianist Dustin O'Halloran on this Kranky release, Wiltzie managed to craft one of the most sublime and jaw-droppingly gorgeous musical experiences of the year. Working with a soft array of string drones, bass hums, and ethereal, cycling piano motifs reminiscent of Harold Budd or Ryuichi Sakamoto, the duo conjure an atmosphere of sedated melancholia, a sadness tempered by hope and the promise of future bliss. Too emotional and immaculately structured to be relegated to the status of mere "background music," A Winged Victory for the Sullen is a masterpiece of modern composition and deserves your full attention. [dl]
[thanks glowing raw]
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Werk Dis[ks]
After crafting one of the most enduring albums of the last few years with 2008's 'Hazyville', Actress sets his sights on the future with a crucial LP for Honest Jon's. This album signifies two important points; firstly, the fact that Honest Jon's are putting this out at all acknowledges Mr Cunningham's place in the lineage of potentially classic Afrofuturistic music, from George Clinton through Prince and Shake Shakir, and secondly, a major maturity and cohesion in his sound. Wheras it's predecessor was composed over a staggered period of many, many years, this album was fashioned in a fraction of that time, lending a tangible symmetry between these shapeshifting tracks that's as loose as it is detached from the rest of the modern herd. Of the 14 tracks he's selected, we've previously encountered the first two, with the unstable space float of 'Hubble' appearing on a shady Thriller 12" and his remix of Various Production's 'Lost' reminding us how good his most overlooked cuts can be. From here in it's all about that next-level longing, sealing the airlock and initiating pressure sequence with 'Futureproofing', before laying down the robo-boogie with 'Always Human'. Showing a teflon resistance towards easy categorisation, 'Get Ohn (Fairlight Mix)' swerves down a side street into a footwurkin' face-off by cyborgs sliding to a mutilated mix of Jon E Cash and Chez Damier played underwater. Next we hit the erogenous interzone of 'Maze' and that incapacitatingly lush bassline designed to lock into your central nervous system and send shockwaves of piloerection to every f*cking corner of your soul. After that, we're cynically dumped, cold post-sex style into the Ferraro-esque Prince tribute 'Purple Splazsh', and on into the Detroit ghetto stalk of 'Let's Fly'. The dissonant robo-crunk of 'The Kettle Men' and closing entry 'Casanova' confirm that if anything, the man is only suffering from a surfeit of ideas and expanded technical expertise. Which is never a bad thing. If you want music that enhances or removes you from your own reality like the most visceral sci-fi novel or confirms that there is a sprawling future beyond the stasis of too much modern music, this is just absolutely vital listening.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Good Werk
Lukid's sound is in thrall to the unique soul extensions of everyone from Theo Parrish to Pete Rock, but attuned to the slack beat style of the HudMo/Fylo currents while sucking in a plethora of influences from electro acoustic sound design to modern composition. 'Ice Nine' can't fail to catch the ears of any further beat heads, with a plaintive piano line almost worthy of William Basinski slowly crumbling into swathes of cochlea tickling static and a minimised finger popping rhythm. 'Veto' strikes for a clean soul hit with a crisp edit reminding us of Flying Lotus jamming with Newworldaquarium. 'Slow Hand Slap' takes another toke and descends into lush cotton wool cushioned electronica, while 'Saddlebags' comes highly recommended to fans of the future beat compressions of NWAQ's slow stuff with a jammy electrobass squashed deep into the groove. The slowfast beat pattern on 'Chord' is another highlight of the man's skills that should win over any fence sitters, striking a worthy BoC comparison shared by title track 'Foma'. The sepia tinged psyched jazz/krautrock edit on 'Laughin' reminds us of the direction taken by Paul White/Bullion and the One-Handed crew and should alert the ears of all their followers, but the best is saved for last with 'Time Doing So Mean', a fuggy head trip of winter sun heated synthlines and crumpled downbeats that'll have you reaching for the play button to start the trip all over again. Deep, heavy, righteous wares = Essential Purchase. - Boomkat
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Pop Ambient
Catalog#: KOMPAKT CD 09
Catalog#: KOMPAKT CD 14
Catalog#: KOMPAKT CD 22
Catalog#: KOMPAKT CD 29
Catalog#: Kompakt CD 37
Catalog#: KOMPAKT CD 47
Catalog#: KOMPAKT CD 54
Catalog#: KOMPAKT CD 62
Catalog: KOMPAKT CD 69
Catalog#: Kompakt CD 77
Pop Ambient 2011
Catalog#: KOMPAKT CD 87
Fly Lo Bootlegs
Check his soundcloud: soundcloud.com/flyinglotus/
DOWNLOAD! MEGAUPLOAD
DOWNLOAD! MEDIAFIRE
A Mile
Trumpeter-bandleader Miles Davis (1926-91) was a catalyst for the major innovations in post-bop, cool jazz, hard-bop, and jazz-fusion, and his wispy and emotional trumpet tones were some of the most evocative sounds ever heard. He was also one of the most identifiable and misunderstood pop icons of the 20th century. This engrossing British documentary shows the complex layers of this magnificent and mercurial artist. Through rare footage and interviews, we learn of Davis’s middle-class upbringing and his early days with bop legends Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker. The documentary bluntly deals with Davis’s narcotic nadir and his rise from the depths to become a bona fide jazz icon in the mid-’50s to late ’60s. But the most penetrating and poignant portraits of Davis come from musicians who played with and were influenced by him, including Shirley Horn, Herbie Hancock, Joe Zawinul, and Keith Jarrett.
Outstanding musical selections include modal masterpieces “So What” and “Blue in Green,” the haunting soundtrack to the 1957 French film Ascenseur pour l’échafaud, his romantic rendition of Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time,” and his collaborations with arranger Gil Evans. The most surprising aspects of Davis’s personality that emerge from this film are his shyness, vulnerability, and, yes, humility. As he said himself, “Don’t call me a legend. Call me Miles Davis.” –Eugene Holley Jr.
DVD-RIP:MEGAUPLOAD:
DOWNLOAD! PART 1
DOWNLOAD! PART 2
DOWNLOAD! PART 3
DOWNLOAD! PART 4
DOWNLOAD! PART 5
DOWNLOAD! PART 6
DOWNLOAD! PART 7
DOWNLOAD! PART 8
DOWNLOAD! PART 9
MEDIAFIRE:
DOWNLOAD! PART 1
DOWNLOAD! PART 2
DOWNLOAD! PART 3
DOWNLOAD! PART 4
DOWNLOAD! PART 5
DOWNLOAD! PART 6
DOWNLOAD! PART 7
DOWNLOAD! PART 8
DOWNLOAD! PART 9
Chromophobia (2007)
ChromophobiaStyle: Minimal Techno
Label: Kompakt
If the title of Gui Boratto's debut full-length isn't intended to be farcical, it would be reasonable to assume that the 33-year Sao Pãolo native has either confronted his Pantone demons and emerged unscathed or been the recipient of a chromatic intervention. Chromophobia is not so much conflicted by shades and hues as it is positively seething with them, a spiral dance of cascading colors given musical voice by a multitude of mouths. The vividness of Boratto's music tempts the listener to envy the 35mm camera, with its ability to capture and contain frozen moments of electromagnetic radiation. But on Chromophobia, there is no pausing for still shots—it's a continuous pan across thickly-clustered see-sawing melodies, impudently dynamic synth tones and subtle drum loops that are shifted, rearranged and altered incessantly. This is the sound of fractious textures being sensually woven into a tapestry of almost inspirational complexity, stubbornly insisting on a delicate balance of light and dark, transparent and opaque, yellow and magenta and cyan, oh my! It is the sound of mounting the sunset and dancing amongst stars, the very instant when lightning is electrically converted into life and Dr. Frankenstein shouts his two most infamous words.
The inability of most people to perceive this in Boratto's music can be understood, if not forgiven. Electronic music has always had the barrier of archaic (at least twenty years old or older is archaic by now) psychological resistance against it—electric guitars are “warm” and “human” but oscillating waveforms are just “cold,” man. The facts that the force driving both instruments can be measured in amperes and that both sound-generating devices would be impossible without mechanical and electrical engineering don't tend to disturb the burden of this prejudice. But for those without contempt for sine and sawtooth waves, rejoice! The long dark night of the soul has ended. Let there be light!
And what a light it is...a billion streaming ions of florid, penetrating lucidity—opener “Scene” is evocative enough to paint seven of them across your brow, disarming your perceptions with of a “warm” synth tone counterbalanced by a “cold” viola, cut loose to pursue alternate permutations of said tone across the bunched spines of a dozen wrinkly porcupines. Follow-up “Mr. Decay” could at first be one of those minimal workouts that fails to break a sweat, a simple shuffle of itchy, dry drum programming, but Boratto's polyphonic lines are too melodic to be austere, and a sensuous, dark undercurrent propels us towards a warm motion and a complex emotion. If trance weren't a dirty word nowadays it'd apply here—the meditative swirling of timbres placates the senses like a rapidly-melting fudge ripple tasted on the day of summer's first swelling. The progression of Chromophobia falling forward from this one-two punch develops as a small series of two-to-three song clusters, each one a suite of similar moods and tone colors building towards new plateaux.
Things get stranger, tougher, and almost fiercely mechanical real quick, within the nervous-funk triad of “Terminal,” “Gate 7” and “Shebang.” Incorporating tenser rhythmic tricks and noises approximating heavy industry into Boratto's ballet, we're led through the humming factory and into the techno sweatshop. Generators pulse, gears slowly grind, the circuit board comes alive and everywhere is the mingling of metallic parts interacting. "Gate 7" engages with a twitchy, slightly spooky plucked-string sound and a rubberized bassline that seems to be coming from inside your ear rather than simply bouncing against its surface. "Shebang" collects crystalline sound formations to the tune of a quick-tempoed drum break that all the quirky prettiness makes feel slower than it actually is. The genius is that all of this electrical frippery is teeming on the surface of a welcoming lake of complex, wavering melodies and joyous, meaty beats. These aren't distant, inhuman exercises in manipulated tones, but living, breathing structures—envelopes of tricky disco awaiting only your tongue to provide them with closure.
The interregnum is provided by “Chromophobia” and “The Blessing”—two dry, clean, almost clinical tracks that wield the techno-scalpel to get a peek at your innards, knowing they will expose musculature that pulsates with a lambent pink aura. "Chromophobia" serenades us with the pressure of the heartbeat thumping in the chest of the one who pilots the machine, and "The Blessing" goes even deeper into the bloodstream, sounding like a mysterious underwater journey in a well-manned submarine, alive with the opening and closing of ports and the rhythmic throb of the engines. “Mala Strana,” a gorgeous tone poem from which a simple piano line emerges like a leafy frond, initiates the complete descent from man-made accents to aqueous tones, the visceral and far-ranging thrills of the album's first half gradually giving way to more contemplative, earthy ones. If ambient weren't a dirty word nowadays it'd apply here—the organic, softly-tinted shadings of “Acrostico” and closer "The Verdict" are far from placid, but they lull the senses with arpeggiators draped in duskier tones and a revolving, serene sense of beauty.
Which isn't to say that Chromophobia evolves from motion into stasis—the action is slower at first, but the triumphant, deal-sealing trilogy of “Xilo,” the gloriously-buoyant “Beautiful Life” and the incandescent “Hera” blend both the sensitive sparkle and the frangible flush with the unkempt, joyous journeyings of Boratto's wilder (and more wide-eyed) side. If ambient trance wasn't a bad phrase nowadays… "Xilo" weaves a web of marimba-like notes across a twangy guitar-like sound that could be Duane Eddy in space, especially since we appear to be achieving some kind of lift-off as the song progresses. "Beautiful Life" and "Hera" actually take place beyond the stratosphere, the former a lush, loving epic that balances crunchy, compressed percussion with graceful broad melodic lines that can't decide whether they want to sound like strings or synths. "Hera" could be the ballroom dance on some other world, evoking visions of exotic, multicolored beings writhing in the strange light of a strange sun.
Usually a dance album of such breadth and poise is the result of a greatest-hits like repackaging of several years worth of vinyl sides. However, with the exception of “Gate 7” and the title track (released only on the 3-LP version of Total 7), nothing on Chromophobia has previously seen the light of day, despite the many 12” releases Boratto has accrued. Like his antipodean labelmate Axel Willner (The Field), his debut is almost entirely out of nowhere, coming dressed to kill in garments of an unfamiliar make. And while both albums share a joyous vitality and uniform brilliance, they have little sonically in common—Boratto escalates microstructures, while Willner immediatizes macrostructures. To put it another way, he's a sonic architect that specializes in clever micro-management of discrete moments, deftly harmonizing tiny tonal changes and rhythmic shifts to construct a bright, broad pattern that's in a state of constant flux. To put it another way—minimal + maximal = magical.
Stunning record and one of Kompakt's most enduring statements.
Mr. Decay
Dedication (2011)
DedicationStyle: Electronic / Experimental
Label: 4AD
I want to say that Zomby's Dedication confounds expectations, but when "surprising" is par for the course, how does one deal with expectations? Dedication arrives not on previous homes Hyperdub or RAMP but indie mega 4AD. Nonetheless, it's similar to past material, a resumption of his penchant for cheekily brief tracks and hyperactive loops.
The titular Dedication is apparently aimed towards Zomby's deceased father, and the entire album carries a solemn and sepulchral quality previously unheard from Zomby. The tracks are unforgivingly excoriated of excessive detail or nuance, with many merely sounding like simple loops cycling and writhing in a predetermined path before fading away (particularly the seeming Salem send-ups of "Witch Hunt" and "Lucifer"). There's something starkly naked about these rawer textures, and even at their simplest Zomby's timbres are uncharacteristically and heartbreakingly funereal, especially the 8-bit cathedral survey "Black Orchid" or the staid, piano-driven "Basquait." Where previous work like "Godzilla" or "Gloop" felt like densely intertwined, mischievous snippets of arpeggio mayhem, here they're unwound and laid bare.
The result could have been an album so mournful as to lose itself in self-serious introspection, but Dedication's brief track lengths mean the album is breezy in a manner unbefitting of its ostensibly grave subject matter. As one track flows into the next—again a reversal of the usual Zomby ethos of all jarring, all the time—Dedication ceases to be a jittery collection of sketches. Even so, there are highlights: Pre-album single "Natalia's Song" chops up a Russian singer into alien intonations that feel like they're being ripped apart in mid-gasp. And lowlights: Panda Bear shows up to sing over "Things Fall Apart," an unnecessary cameo on top of the already distracting stray bits of synth shrapnel that break off from the beat.
Dedication also finally divorces Zomby from the dubstep-centered UK soundsystem culture, because while he might be indebted to 'ardkore, it's hard to find much of anything—except maybe the DMZ dread tones on the classical-tinged "A Devil Lay Here"—that even feels close to the hardcore continuum here. In fact, the only real predecessors you're likely to find are other Zomby records. Which says a lot about the kind of talent we're dealing with. Dedication on 4AD makes sense, because it's exactly the place where Zomby belongs right now. He's not a dance producer nor does he fit into any narrative aside from his own. With Dedication Zomby has crafted a deeply idiosyncratic work of art with all the flaws, eccentricities and moments of brilliance that come with such creative freedom. - Resident Advisor.
Definitely a grower.
Zomby Knows
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Stars Of The Lid
I just realized I haven't posted my favorite band. This is probably because I feel guilty giving away music that I love so much for free. I have faith that people who care about good music also care for the people that make it and will support them however they can. Everyone should own this album.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Deerhunter - Microcastle
The latest release from the world's foremost Marfran Syndrome rock band. I'd actually recommend giving this a listen to both fans and non-fans alike, just because it's so different from Deerhunter's prior records. Theres less droning, and the vocals don't seem to be looped through a delay pedal anymore. I haven't had much time to digest the album yet, but it doesn't seem to be floating around everywhere on the internet so I figured I would post it.
Download Microcastle
Dan Friel - Ghost Town
For those of you who dig Parts & Labor, I'd recommend checking out Ghost Town, the debut album from Parts & Labor keyboardist Dan Friel. This is a really fun lo-fi electronic record that sounds like it was made for no money at all with rag tag collection of busted synths and drum machines. The obvious lack of production/recording costs just makes it all the more inspiring. If you enjoy quirky electronic music and/or the blips and bleeps of the NES era of video games, don't hesitate and download this.
Download Ghost Town
Neutral Milk Hotel - Final Live Show
If someone twisted my arm and forced me to pick a favorite band, I'd probably go with NMH. I just about shit myself when I saw that this recording had popped up online, and then I almost busted out the adult diapers again when, much to my surprise, the recording quality wasn't shit. It's actually quite good, and easily on par with the Live at Jittery Joes record. Anyway, there's 13 tracks that cover the best material from their two LP's, as well as some spoken word/rambling and some rare/unreleased tracks like "Engine" and the final song, "Mother."
Download Neutral Milk Hotel's final live show
Did Your Guitar Just Turn Into A Ball Of Light?
Flying Saucer Attack - FurtherStyle: Shoegaze, Ambient, Psych-Folk
Label: Drag City
Combining the drugged out, mind-fucking, gleefully feedback-drenched madness of bands like the Jesus and Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine with a gentle, pastoral folk sensibility, Flying Saucer Attack holds a truly special place in the canon of modern psychedelic music. Layering towering sheets of dissonance and feedback over chiming guitars and blissed-out, almost chanted vocals, their self-titled debut album still stands as one of the more interesting freak accidents of the post-shoegaze era. "Further," released in 1995, takes a less confrontational but ultimately more rewarding approach to sonic stargazing, eschewing the ocasionally tiresome noise-worshipping tendencies of its predecessor in favor of pure melodic beauty. If listening to FSA's debut was like staring into the sun at mid-day, hearing this album in the proper setting (preferrably sprawled out comfortably in a dark room) is like floating in reverie amidst the stars. All music critic bullshit aside, let me just say that this is one of the most beautiful albums I have ever heard. If you're in a receptive mood, it will take you places you've never imagined possible.
FSA
You Are Slowly Being Destroyed
William Basinski - The Disintegration Loops II Style: Classical Minimalism, Ambient
Label: Musex
You are slowly being destroyed. It's imperceptible in the scheme of a day or a week or even a year, but you are aging, and your body is degrading. As your cells synthesize the very proteins that allow you to live, they also release free radicals, oxidants that literally perforate your tissue and cause you to grow progressively less able to perform as you did at your peak. By the time you reach 80, you will literally be full of holes, and though you'll never notice a single one of them, you will inevitably feel their collective effect. Aging and degradation are forces of nature, functions of living, and understanding them can be as terrifying as it is gratifying.
It's not the kind of thing you can say often, but I think William Basinski's Disintegration Loops are a step toward that understanding-- the music itself is not so much composed as it is this force of nature, this inevitable decay of all things, from memory to physical matter, made manifest in music. During the summer of 2001, Basinski set about transferring a series of 20-year-old tape loops he'd had in storage to a digital file format, and was startled when this act of preservation began to devour the tapes he was saving. As they played, flakes of magnetic material were scraped away by the reader head, wiping out portions of the music and changing the character and sound of the loops as they progressed, the recording process playing an inadvertent witness to the destruction of Basinski's old music.
The process may be the hook for this sprawling four-disc set, but the loops themselves are stunning, ethereal studies in sound so fluid that the listener scarcely registers the fact that it's nothing but many hundreds of repetitions of a brief, simple loop that they're hearing. I imagine that life within the womb might sound something akin to these slowly swelling, beauteous snatches of orchestral majesty and memory-haze synthesizer. The pieces are uniformly consonant, embellished with distant whalesong arpeggios and echoing percussion.
In essence, Basinski is improvising using nothing so much as the passage of time as his instrument, and the result is the most amazing piece of process music I've ever heard, an encompassing soundworld as lulling as it is apocalyptic. A piece may begin bold, a striking, slow-motion slur of ecstatic drone, and in the first minute, you will notice no change. But as the tape winds on over the capstans, fragments are lost or dulled, and the music becomes a ghost of itself, tiny gasps of full-bodied chords groaning to life amid pits of near-silence. Some decay more quickly and violently than others, surviving barely 15 minutes before being subsumed by silence and warping, while the longest endures for well over an hour, fading into a far-off, barely perceptible glow.
There is another, eerier chapter to the story of the Disintegration Loops-- that Basinski was listening to the playbacks of his transfers as the attacks of September 11th unfolded, and that they became a sort of soundtrack to the horror that he and his friends witnessed from his rooftop in New York that day, a poignant theme for the cataclysmic editing of one of the world's most recognizable skylines. Removed from the context of that disaster and transposed into the mundane world we live in every day, The Disintegration Loops still wield an uncanny, affirming power. It's the kind of music that makes you believe there is a Heaven, and that this is what it must sound like. - pfm
My favorite of the "Disintegration Loops" series, and definitely some of Basinski's best work. The second piece of the set sounds like an orgasm of light that keeps on cresting for 40 minutes.
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=B2YCFOCU
I Know A Bear That Lives Here
Keith Fullerton Whitman - Lisbon Style: Ambient, Drone
Label: Kranky
All art based in time has a trajectory. In music, consideration of trajectory is most crucial during long stretches of uninterrupted sound. Anything requiring attention for 20, 30, 40 minutes or more-- a DJ set, say-- needs a logical structure, a steady payout of inducements to encourage the listener to maintain focus. Listening to Lisbon, which documents an October 2005 performance at the Galeria Z� Dos Bois in the Portuguese capitol, I get the idea Keith Whitman has done some thinking about structure. Here he uses the tools (guitar, processed via computer) and palette (an emphasis on slowly shifting drone) first brought to bear on his 2002 album Playthroughs, and extends them to suit a long-form piece.
The opening few minutes are close to "Track3a (2waynice)" from Playthroughs, with clean tendrils of drone only marginally more harmonically complex than a sine wave undulating in space like a Chinese dragon kite. Whitman gradually folds in additional layers and hints of counterpoint, from organ-like chords, soft bells, and an assortment of subtle glitches. The placid ramp upward lasts 13 minutes, and then harsh chords creep in. From there it's a steady plow into dissonance, as sheets of noise are piled on and most traces of pleasantness are left behind. Had it started somewhere heavier, the knotty bass (please don't listen on computer speakers) churning away at the 20-minute mark would have long grown tiring. But after the crystalline foundation of the piece's first quarter, the snarling ugliness proceeds with an undercurrent of poignancy, magnified emotionally through careful arrangement.
Heard loud, filling a room, Lisbon can be a little overwhelming. The climax comes about three-fourths of the way in, around 27 minutes, where the gritty outer layer has been shed and the drone conjures images of a metaphysical ascension through clouds. A minute later, the engines cut out and it falls toward earth in a tumble of creaking furniture, blown fuses, and bent sprockets. Apparently, Whitman had microphones placed throughout the space to capture ambient noise, and he devised a patch to process it and add it to the mix. After the purely electronic immersion the live room sounds are jarring, but the piece quickly reassembles itself for a noisy sprint to the finish, with coarse sawtooth waves sparking fountains of harmonics. A wispy finish gives the piece a circular quality, ending very near the serene opening.
It's a 41-minute piece that, like Fennesz' Live in Japan, doesn't make much sense cut into smaller segments. The time commitment is an obstacle, but the payoff is substantial. It comes back to the trajectory. When I picture a successful long-form laptop set, the perfect arc is something launched low-- 35 degrees, say-- with great force and a heavy wind coefficient so the piece dies quickly after reaching its expressive peak. Whitman here has followed it to the letter, constructing a riveting piece of music with the organic drama of a three-act play. - pfm
i am just the messenger. listen to this album and be reborn.
Six Organs
Six Organs of Admittance - Dark Noontide Style: Psych-Folk, Raga / Drone
Label: Holy Mountain
The fourth album from Ben Chasny and one of his most complete, 'Dark Noontide' sees the guitarist exploring the Eastern themes approached in his earlier work and also delving further into the dark drone and unsettling ambience of his debut. Indeed, sidestepping some of the more upbeat solo-guitar moments of 'Dust & Chimes', Chasny manages to create an opium fuelled moonlit Middle Eastern haven in the comfort of your front room; you can almost smell the burning rose oil somewhere behind you as your eyes cloud from the heavy substances. Taking as usual the guitar as his instrument of choice, Chasny fleshes the tracks out with flute, tabla and occasionally his voice to come out with a deeply varied work and one of the finest records ever to emerge from the scene. If you've only managed to come across Chasny's Drag City albums before then you simply need to grab hold of this record as soon as you can, it takes you places other albums just can't reach. - bmk
http://www.mediafire.com/?dxfrc2fyymt
Not An Animal Lover?
Deer Anyone?
Artist: Deerhunter
Album: Cryptograms
Genre: psychedelic rock
Sounds like (according to last.fm): Caribou, Deerhoof, Grizzly Bear
Link: http://www.megaupload.com/?d=LJ14ORBG
Rise!
Artist: Dirty Projectors
Album: Rise Above
Genre: experimental, art rock
Sounds like (according to last.fm): Animal Collective, Black Moth Super Rainbow, Devendra Banhart, Parenthetical Girls
Link: http://www.megaupload.com/?d=B4THH7A5
Person Pitch
Artist: Panda Bear
Album: Person Pitch
Genre: experimental, freak folk, psychedelic
Sounds like (according to last.fm): Akron/Family, Animal Collective, Six Organs Of Admittance
Link: http://www.megaupload.com/?d=90LSG5QU
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
it takes ages to get this lost but its worth it
party party party party
why won't you come
to the party
hate me hate me hate me hate me
why won't you say
that you love me
kick me kick me kick me kick me
why won't you
ever touch me
party party party party
why won't i say
that i like you
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