Landing
– Passages Through (K) There’s
an old expression to the effect that the breeze from a butterfly’s wings can
cause a tidal wave several continents away. This rather Zen-like concept can
also be used to describe the music of New
England’s finest “ambi-spheric” band. (This is their fourth full-length,
joining over a dozen EPs, singles, compilation appearances and cassettes in less
than five years.) For example, the nine-minute opener, “Wings of Light”
wafts across your synapses as softly as if it was riding along the breeze from
an angel’s flapping wings. The gently-strummed, acoustic “Hold Me Under”
is a cuddly love song with guitarist Aaron Snow’s vocals giving the song more
than a passing resemblance to the best of fellow ambient space travelers, Low.
The repetitive guitar loop on “Close Your Eyes, Slowly” reminds me of Steven
Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians, and keyboardist Adrienne Snow’s
breathy vocals are what the phrase “warm and fuzzy” was invented for. A few
albums back, Landing’s oeuvre took on a more acoustic air and this sleepy,
cumulous cloud buzz continues throughout Passages Through. The guitar
interplay between Aaron and occasional second guitarist, Dick Baldwin on “To
See You” approaches the grandiloquence of Maurice Deebank and Lawrence (Felt)
and Reg Smithies and Dave Fielding (The Chameleons), while Daron Gardner’s
gentle cymbal tapping drives the song along that elusive butterfly’s wings of
desire. Adrienne’s
vocals on “It Is Shining” are more pronounced, yet feel awkwardly syncopated
to the beat. However, they quickly recover on “Breathing,” one of her better
vocal performances, and not unlike that of Åsa Eklund of
Pineforest Crunch (see below). The track ends with an extended loop of Aaron’s glistening,
arpeggiated, phased guitar, which once again floats along a magic carpet ride to
la la land. Exquisite! Finally, the
closing “Tell Myself” is a mellow, pop floater in the best tradition of Jeff
Martin and Idaho – particularly his “Stare at the Sky” off Three Sheets
To The Wind. Passages Through finds Landing at the peak of their
estimable power, and for a band that constantly improves with each release, this
may be their best yet. Surface of Eceyon - Dragyyn
(Strange Attractors Audio House) No, it's not the soundtrack to the next Sci-Fi channel original movie, but a concept album about the mythological land of Dryystyn and the rescue of the stolen wind from the great beast, Tussyan by Dragyyn (guitar, guardian of wind and fire), Eceyonic Man (drums, ancient oracle), Seabearde (guitar, lord of shore and sea), Lyfeforce (guitar, prince of the meadow and field) and Sephryn the Mysterious Giant (bass, the strong, silent one). Franz Prichard's informative liner notes help us wade through the backstory (begun several years ago via four releases by Lyfeforce and Prichard's other band, Yume Bitsu, and continued on SoE's debut, The King Beneath The Mountain) that the band relates through six lengthy, psychedelic, instrumental jams. Imagine Michael Moorcock reviving his psychedelic psi-fi epics, pepper lightly with extended, serpentining, guitar wanderings a la Spacious Mind's recent live disk and top it all off with an elaborate progedelic mythos and you've got the makings of a heady musical stew. While all of the tracks work well on their own (particularly the beautiful "Over Land, Over Ice" as it swells from a gentle interlude to a celestial coda fit for the choir invisible, and the magestic denouement of the 19-minute closer, "Freeing The Winds"), you'll enjoy the piece even more if you follow along with the story and marvel at how snugly myth and sound track merge. Even without supplies for your trip, this is a voyage prog, psych, and kraut fans alike will enjoy taking. It's the best superstar collaboration since (and is quite sonically similar to) the Roy Montgomery/Bardo Pond side-project, Hash Jar Tempo, particularly noticeable on the extended feedback and drones on "Victory of Ice and Magic." Only the lengthy "By A Curious Vessyl" fails to impress, suffering from the same tentative meanderings as Bardo's recent "Euphrates" track on their split LP with SubArachnoid Space. It's more an effort in sound effect manipulation than a "song," and while some folks may enjoy this open-ended sonic exploration, I get bored with these Dead-like exercises in choosing the next song to play. But this is a minor quibble; just sit back and enjoy the continuing saga of the trials and tribulations of the inhabitants of the Surface of Eceyon. Pineforest
Crunch – Panamarenko (Zip) The
Swedish Invasion continues with the third album (and domestic debut, although
the songs were recorded over three years ago) from this seven-year old, twee pop
band, who are as light and airy as the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream flavor they
are named after. Gorgeous, waif-like vocalist, Åsa Eklund (not Britt’s kid)
has a sweet, lilting soprano akin to such other helium-voiced warblers as Saint
Etienne’s Sarah Cracknell, Drugstore’s Isobel Monteiro, Cranes’ Alison
Shaw and, especially, The Sunday’s Harriet Wheeler. Since these are amongst
the finest voices in rock and roll, the band already scores brownie points based
on their biggest asset. Luckily, the songs aren’t half bad, either. Since my
alter ego is a college DJ, the anthemic singalong (and lead single) “College
Radio Listeners” is a personal favorite, although listeners should note that
the music throughout this release is best suited to the Gilmore Girls and
Dawson’s Creek soundtracks. Elsewhere,
“Slowly” packs an emotional wallop into its three-minute pop song trappings,
particularly with its interesting percussive effects; Åsa’s ethereal, breathy
vocals on “Wake Up” border on softcore ear porn, and she imbues “Car
Crash” with such an oxymoronic, uplifting, happy air that I bet she could make
reading an obituary sound sexy. The chorus to “Innocent” is so infectious it
should be investigated by the CDC (Center for Disease Control), as it will
surely be on the minds and lips of every teeny bopper around the world as one of
the summer’s biggest hits, and “Romantic Strings” is also an unusually
arranged and produced piece that sounds like a showtune being played back
through a radio. It’s a pleasant enough melody, but the presentation leaves
this listener as cold and aloof as a Scandinavian winter. So, while
it’s nothing you haven’t heard before, it is certainly recommended to fans
of lightweight pop in the style of the aforementioned bands. Hopefully, Zip will
bring us their earlier releases sometime in the near future. Various
Artists – IAMAPHOTOGRAPHER. I think
the good folks at Plain may be on to something here! Tired of the same lame-o,
exploitation tribute albums and ridiculous soundtrack albums that have
absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the film in question (except to promote
the latest lousy product from some unknown loser), these double album sets
combine the best of both worlds into fantastic imaginary soundtracks of
Michaelangelo Antonioni’s Blow Up and Monte Hellman’s Two-Lane
Blacktop respectively. Blow Up was one of the most oft-discussed,
cult films of the 60s, so it’s only fitting that Plain gathered some of the
most oft-discussed, cult artists of the 21st century to interpret his
film through music. New Zealand sound sculptist Dean Roberts kicks things off
with the titular in-joke, “A Yard of Birds,” a loopy, guitarrorist
noisefest. Matmos gives us a pastiche of found sounds and electronic tape loops
held together by a funky, rolling bassline which effectively captures 60’s
swinging London film soundtracks recently parodied by Quincy Jones on his Austin
Powers series. All of this in spite of its pretentious title, “Despite Its
Aesthetic Advances In Its Policing of the Sexuality of Public Space Antonioni's
Film Perpetuates Misogyny and Homophobia,” which sounds more like the title of
a Doctoral thesis. Mushroom’s laidback, jazzy “Antonioni’s Groove” is
one of the most cinematic (i.e., less experimental) tracks on the album and will
easily please fans of soundtrack music in general and this wonderful San
Francisco band in particular. The jazzy
vibes continue with Jon Birdsong’s Air Force and their homage to Jane
Birkin’s crotch and the infamously scandoulous “Full Frontal Nudity”
scene. Unfortunately, William Parker’s violin scrapings (“Sonic
Animation”) takes up half of side two and is strictly for completists. And
speaking of the avant garde, they don’t get more experimental than the
ultra-prolific Loren MazzaCane Connors, who’s had more albums than birthdays
(he turned 50 several years ago!) One of the most effective uses of silence in
the history of cinema is the extended scene in the park where the photographer
seems to stumble upon two lovers making out in the bushes. Connors’ tribute to
this scene, “The Wind in the Trees/The Couple” is a short, minimalist piece
of ambience that’s as haunting as the scene itself. The
jaw-dropping weirdness continues on “30.0/31.0” from Italian band,
Starfuckers, another severely edited pastiche of syncopated percussion, guitar,
voiceover, and what can only be described as the sound of a guitar falling down
the stairs. The soundtrack’s most “difficult” side comes to a romantic
conclusion with the gentle, pastoral nostalgia of “1966” from Richard
Youngs. Over an acoustic guitar backing, Youngs adds woodwind and musicbox
chimes to effectively capture a stroll through the park and quite frankly, fits
the couple in the park scene better than Connors’ piece. The
all-male, Arizona trio known as the Sun City Girls begins the second record with
a typically unobtrusive instrumental piece of fluff called “Rolled Up
Collar,” which is the type of transitional music you usually hear during
street scenes or accompanying actors driving or walking from one scene to
another. The free jazz sax skronk of Arthur Doyle’s “You End Me on the
African Express” is the epitome of room-clearing noise. In fact, when my
daughter walked through the room as this piece was playing, she screamed
“Those people need to learn how to tune their instruments.” I couldn’t
have said it better myself. Few people will be able to sit through this in its
entirety. Dawson
Prater’s lengthy exercise in pure tone audiometry (i.e., it sounds like a
hearing test) occupies of two-thirds of side four and, as with most of this
collection, is either fascinating or a tremendous load of bollocks, depending on
your temperament, patience and susceptibility to avant garde, experimental
music. Your interest in this will,
therefore, ultimately depend upon your acquired taste for the artists involved,
as all of these tracks are exclusive to this set. Fans of the OHM box set
of electronic gurus will love it, but others may think it reminds them of the
sound of industrial machinery or everyday appliances, such as the hum of a
speaker, air condition or refrigerator. Plain’s
second 2xLP imaginary soundtrack was created in tribute to Monte Hellman’s
cult road picture, Two-Lane Blacktop, whose original interest was
centered around the casting of rock stars James Taylor and Dennis Wilson in the
lead roles, but whose cult status today rests upon the shoulda-had-the-Oscar
brilliance of Warren Oates. Unike the previous set, this soundtrack, assembled
by Filippo Salvadori (co-owner of Ampersand Records with “Photographer”
contributer Dawson Prater, as well as the 4 Men With Beards imprint with
Plain’s honcho Pat Thomas), combines previously released material (Sandy Bull,
Roscoe Holcomb, Leadbelly) with exclusive newbies from the likes of
Charalambides, Roy Montgomery, Wilco, Calexico, Mark Eitzel, and Will Oldham.
Sandy Bull’s banjo-led, "Little Maggie," sounding like the theme
from Beverly Hillbillies, gets this road trip off to a rousing start, but things
come to a screeching halt about halfway through Will Oldham’s lengthy rap on
"Don't Cry, Driver" (Taylor’s character). While it sounds like
authentic dialogue from the film, after nine minutes I had completely lost the
thread of what he was rambling on about, although I did enjoy the rolling,
mellow backing accompaniment from Will and Alan Licht. Sun City
Girls guitarist Alan Bishop (whose band also contributed to “Photographer”),
gives us "Sleep Gunner" under his alter-ego, Alvarius B. It’s a
soft, acoustic rumination that essentially cops its melody from Lennon’s
“Love.” Calexico’s "No Doze" is the complete antithesis, with
half the band quietly lulling us to sleep with violin and acoustic guitar
serenades on one hand and the hyperactive drummer annoyingly beating the shit
out of his drumkit to keep us awake on the other. Imagine downing six cups of
espresso and then lying down to try and fall asleep. It does live up to its
title, however, and captures the emotional and physical strain of a
cross-country driver fighting the urge to sleep. Fifty
year old German guitarist, Steffen Basho-Junghans combines acoustic and pedal
steel guitars on the rambling "Lazy Waters." It’s the perfect
embodiment of a circuitous road trip, and is as essential in capturing the mood
of the film as The Byrds “Ballad of Easy Rider” was to that film. In fact,
the opening Dylan-penned couplet, “The river flows/It flows to the
sea/Wherever that river flows/That’s where I want to be” is exactly the
image conjured by this lovely instrumental. Ex-American
Music Clubber, Mark Eitzel teams up with horn-y pianist, Marc Capelle (trumpet)
for "What The Girl Didn't Say," which is not so much a song as a
collection of voiceovers, tape loops, sound effects, field recordings and
annoying, percussive hip-hop beats. It’s especially disappointing in light of
the visual quality of most of Eitzel’s songwriting, particularly with AMC,
whose “Western Sky” (off California) would have been a better choice
here. Roscoe
Holcomb’s "Boat's Up The River" sounds like an extremely young Dylan
and will appeal particularly to the fans who were ready to string him up at
Newport when he plugged in his guitar, as well as those who applauded the
“Judas”-yelling heckler at the Manchester gig back in ’66. Suntanama give
"Parallels" a stony, CSN&Y vibe, and end up with an instant,
Southern-fried, folk-psych classic, while Howie Gelb and Giant Sand acknowledge
the OTHER classic cult road movie via the sashaying, fuzz-driven,
"Vanishing Point." Charalambides follow this with an even more obscure
in-joke, "Flying Machine," which some may recognize as an illusion to
Taylor’s pre-stardom band of the mid-60s (and NOT the British band of the same
name that had the hit with “Smile A Little Smile For Me) – although
husband-and-wife team Tom and Christina Carter’s typically esoteric guitar
experimentalism is light years from either of those bubblegummy projects! The
current backlash against Thurston Moore and Sonic Youth for their recent
weird-for-the-sake-of-being-ornery-bastards releases will continue unabated
after the pundits get a load of "Loop Cat." However, after hearing
their tracks on the Terrastock 5 box of 7-inchers on Time-Lag, I
suggested they seemed to be venturing into a more cinematic approach to music
and, lo and behold, here they are contributing to this imaginary soundtrack.
While some may feel their suddenly treasonous musical about-face is tantamount
to Dylan’s previously mentioned “going electric” phase, I will stand
behind the encouraging words I wrote about their new direction and encourage
Moore and Co. to pursue it. However, if you are unwilling to accept such drastic
career makeovers (as if The Beatles decided to try heavy metal or Led Zeppelin
and Black Sabbath saw the light and turned into C&W square dance bands),
then you probably won’t be listening to this again any time soon. And
speaking of treason, I’ve abandoned hope of ever figuring out what the hell
Chan Marshall and her ridiculous Cat Power project is all about, and her
disastrous, somnambulistic reading of "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction"
certainly offers no new clues; however, New Zealand guitar god Roy
Montgomery’s epic, 12½ minute "2LB" quickly washes the stale tast
out of my ears with an all-out guitar assault that will clear the cobwebs out of
everyone’s groggy, funk-encrusted brain. Once again, jaw-dropping brilliance
or room-clearing noise: you make the call. So while You Can Never Go Fast Enough is the more accessable of the two releases, particularly to folk and rock fans (and Montgomery’s track alone is worth the price of admission), “Photographer” is still suggested to avant jazz afficianados. Here’s hoping Plain have commissioned a few more of these imaginary cult soundtracks. I’d love to hear what other cult artists can do with Last Year at Marienbad, La Jettee (an EP, of course), or John Boorman’s Point Blank! Verbena - La Musica
Negra (Capitol) Crunching power chords and a Stoogy swagger runs through "Way Out West," the opening track on this Alabama trio's third full length. "Killing Floor" boasts a Stonesy snarl, and before long we realize we may be onto America's answer to Primal Screen. "I, Pistol" is pure, corporate rock and begins to show the strains of what this album is all about, namely: the major labels are trying to "capitolize" [pun intended] on the popularity of the new indie scene by signing soundalike bands to complete with The Hives, Ravonettes, etc. Leader Scott Bondy shoves his cock-strutting posturing into his back pocket long enough to layer "All The Saints" with a smooth, pop sheen and hummable melody, although his sleepy Thom Yorke impersonation on the boring, "Carmellia" will have you reaching for the skip button. Religious imagery abounds, from the title (The Black Music) and the numerous references to saints, devils and angels, to Jesus Christ, who has a starring role in no less than half the songs. Bondy does manage to work up a sweat for "White Grrls," although the lyric about "brown sugar" tells you where their heads, if not their hearts, are at. By then, it's much too little, too late (to borrow a title from another of their major influences). Derivative, pretentious, and boring. Next contestant, please. The Petals -
Butterfly Mountain (Camera Obscura) In some circles, Milwaukee is famous for its frothy cowpiss that makes frat boys behave like jackassholes, but around these more saner environs, Beertown, USA is known for two of America's greatest exports of a different type, pop/psych maestros, Plasticland and The Petals. The former's guitarist, John C. Frankovic has been involved with Cary Wolf and The Petals since their inception (he was even a member of their short-lived Cake People side project), and he stops by again for a dueling sitar workout with Wolf on "Neutron Star" that is a thing of beauty which should be the ticket to Wolf's "third" appearance on the Electric Psychedelic Sitar Headswirlers series. But this is nature boy Cary Wolf's project, and along with the Kerns (Tim and Laura) and drummer Jim Tessier, this return from a decade's silence is as exciting as it is essential. Wolf writes such infectious pop gems about mushrooms, grass, trees, flowers, and other topics of interest to High Times subscribers and potheaded pixies such as the "Seed Separator" and the "Daydream Stash," that it's almost fun to get stoned again. The former features a marvelous violin solo from Tom Hanson, while Laurie's recorder on the latter lends an air of the lost innocence of following the Pied Piper on nature walks through the forest. "Pleasure without the guilt," a welcome sentiment in these paranoid times, is the theme of this nostalgiac return to the heady, halcyon daze of vintage 60s' relaxation techniques. Mike Friedl's flamenco guitar, Jeff Hamilton's mandolin, and Laurie's castanets bring a Spanish air to the catchy, "Pallid Mask," as this soundtrack to your next rolling session offers the most fun I've had getting wasted since I accidentally washed that Stuntz's Blue Leg pizza down with the bongwater. Hell, you could even whistle while you weed to "A Place In The Shade." The downbeat, "Living Room" ensures we're not in for a bum-free ride, but the infectiously silly "Sarsaparilla" quickly wipes the gloom and doom off your face. "Stone Circle Dancers" is the soundtrack that plays in my head whenever I see those Deadheads start their swooning, epileptic dance of the seven veils So if you miss the old days when the music put as much of a smile on your face as the party favors, take a trip with me to Butterfly Mountain. Stereolab - ABC
Music (Koch/Strange Fruit) When they unceremoniously burst on the scene over a decade ago, spouting Marxist polemics and attempting to marry French ye-ye with Neu!'s motorik krautrock electronics (never more apparent than on the ten-minute, hubbly-bubbly robotic trance-dance of "Metronomic Underground," one of the decade's finest dance tracks and a raver's best friend: lengthy, hypnotic, and repetitve with a video arcade's worth of bleeps, bloops, and blunders to delight and tantalize the senses), few gave Stereolab's space age bachelor pad music a chance at surviving the burgeoning Brit pop onslaught. But survive they did, and this two-disk collection, culled from nine BBC Radio 1 sessions provides the definitive evidence of how this once vital, exciting, new electronic pop force has sadly deteriorated into a redundant, boring, and forgettable jazz combo. [In fact, only a 2001 John Peel session represents the groop's recent material--the majority of the work is lifted from their essential formative years from '91-94.] It is also a fitting tribute to the not inconsiderable talents of guitarist/co-vocalist, Mary Hansen, who died in a freak bicycle accident last December. The first disk is easily the best (some could successfully argue that the second disk is unnecessary and only for completists), ranging from the supercharged, motorik "Super Electric" and "Revox" to Laetitia Sadier's sleepy, ye-ye vocals on "Changer," (one of several tracks presented in the Parisian's native French); from the lightweight, 60's French pop of "Doubt" to the "Chopsticks"-inspired "Anemie" (the only exclusive on this 32-track retrospective); from the wonderfully giddy "Wow and Flutter" (perhaps their finest three minutes, it appears twice!) and the magesterial march of "Golden Ball" to the embryonic, works-in-progress "Difficult Fourth Title" (ultimately, "Contact"), "Untitled" ("Check and Double Check"), "The Pram Song" ("Seeperbold") and "Heavenly Van Halen" ("Pinball"), ABC Music provides an important glimpse into the development of the band's craft and is, thus, essential to fans of demos, alternate takes, etc. It also presents the earliest incarnation of the band (with Joe Dilworth on drums and Gina Morris on vocals) via a 1991 John Peel session; the core lineup of Sadier, Tim Gane, Hansen and drummer Andy Ramsay complete the sessions, supplemented with a revolving door of over a half dozen keyboardists that include Spacemen 3/Spectrum/E.A.R. stalwart Pete (Sonic Boom) Kember (four tracks from a '96 session) and future Snowpony frontwoman, Katherine Gifford (four sessions from her '93-'94 tenure). Conspicuous in his absence is High Llama, Sean O'Hagan, a constant member since joining (some could rightly say ruining) the band in '93. Inexplicably, O'Hagan's arrival signalled a move away from the space age bachelor pad electro-boogie that made the groop (their term) so invigorating towards the dull Steely Dan-ish jazz posturings of his concurrent Llamas project. Despite his absence, the second disk is dominated with tracks from later-period snoozers like Emperor Tomato Ketchup and their godawful career zenith, Sound-Dust. So, fans will want both, but most listeners would be better off borrowing the first disk off a friend and calling it a day. Ian McCulloch - Slideling
(Cooking Vinyl) It’s been over a decade since McCulloch’s disastrous follow-up (Mysterio) to his brilliant debut solo album, Candeland. In the meantime, he’s drifted in and out of his former project, Echo and The Bunnymen and seen their back catalog given the illustrious 4xCD box-set treatment (Crystal Days 1979-1999) on Rhino (2001). A successful reunion tour and album (Flowers) have put Ian and his mates make in the public eye, so the time seemed right for him to come forth with his third solo album. Unfortunately, it picks up where Mysterio left off and is just as overbearing, indulgent and boring. Only the bouncy, summertime fun of “Love In Veins” (despite the terrible Stones’ pun) and the Bunnymen-like “Seasons” and “She Sings (All My Life”) rise above the doldrums. Otherwise, the bland title track (which is actually called “Sliding”—I’m sure there’s an uninteresting story there somewhere) and “Baby Hold On,” which sounds like re-hashed Lou Reed as opposed to re-hashed Leonard Cohen (note the slide(l)ing bassline lifted from “Walk On The Wild Side”) are only two examples of the monotonous, stale tunes, lazy arrangements that fail to add punch and sleepy delivery that sounds as if McCulloch was as bored with recording this album as I was listening to it. When the best song on your album is the hidden track (“Stake Your Claim”), it’s time for a major rethink. As it is, we get another in the long line of singers failing to transfer their charisma to the solo setting. Ian, don’t give up your day job. I hope you didn’t lose Will Sergeant’s phone number. Mensen
– Oslo City (Gearhead) When this Norwegian quartet (three gals and a token male bassist) released their debut album, Delusions of Grandeur, it was impossible to miss who their influences were: all of their pseudonyms were puns on the names of the original girls in the garage. They even cover “Cherry Bomb” in case there was ever any doubt. For their sophomore effort, they’ve changed pseudonyms and personnel (there’s at least a new guy in town), but these teeny-boppin’ babes still are Runaways fans at heart and Oslo City continues to capture the raw, garagey enthusiasm of those initial albums from over a quarter of a century ago. “Loud, fast rules” is the order of the day on punky anthems like “Keep Up!,” and the album’s highlight, “Start Over Again,” with its dirty fuzzguitars and little-girl-lost vocals. Fans of recent “Joan Clones,” The Donnas will also enjoy such toe-tapping, heart-stopping winners as “One Way Street,” featuring a ripping solo from lead stringbender, Christine Sixteen; the ‘60s girl-group jangle of “Bosnia” (their most adventurous and mature recording to date); and the headbanging, Ramonesy “Sandy Starlight.” Only singer/songwriter Marie Currie’s weak vocals (an occasionally tuneless, catlike, shrieking wail in the old school tradition of Siouxsie Sioux, Lydia Lunch, and Exene Cervenka) fail to excite, thus keeping them from the stratospheric delights of fella Scandy babes, Sahara Hotnights. But overall, this is a slight improvement on the debut with better playing and stronger tunes and will best be appreciated by fans of the Girls in the Garage series and those who felt The Donnas’ career went downhill after they retired The Electrocutes’ campy, garage posturings. |
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