Welcome To The Double Deuces!

2002 is the only palindromic year I'm gonna live through, so I'm gonna enjoy it to the hilt. The literal embodiment of "what goes around, comes around," 2002 is off to a heady start with several interesting releases, so let's get to it....

Client/Server - End of Client/Server (Three Lonely Kaiju)

Client/Server's sophomore effort continues the marriage of digital samples, found sound loops, and repetitive drones to the ambient guitar soundscapes that featured prominently on their 2001 debut. And why not--main participants Jennifer De Forge and Tom Guttadauro are husband and wife. "9V" serves as both title and description of the lead-off track as De Forge's tape loops and digital samples weave their way around Tom's contemplative guitar lines. "1 Crayon" ups the distortion ante and suffers in comparison to the relative calm of the first track, crossing the fine line from "music" into "noise" and is quite unsettling. "(Not For(No Fun)) Now" combines elements of Silver Apples-type electronic bleeps and blurbs with sound bytes dropped in, which was also a prominent feature of the couple's eponymous debut.

Following that release, the pair toured the Boston area and projected Hideaki Anno's End of Evangelion behind them, their music serving as an improvised soundtrack to the images. Many of the tracks on this album are extensions of the music they performed live, although it's unclear whether the drop-ins were taken from the film or were merely Tom's utterances during "End of"'s recording sessions. "Two Women" is a full-on sonic drone assault with Tom's heavily effect-laden distorted guitar line forming what can be heard as either a relaxing exercise in the manipulation of sound or an annoying buzzsaw clamoring in your ears. In either case, it should appeal to fans of the more experimental recordings of another husband and wife duo, Tom and Christina Carter (a.k.a. Charalambides), as well as fans of the noisier elements of Acid Mothers Temple.

"I've Got A Mandate, Shazam" recalls Pink Floyd's repetitive sonar bleeps throughout "Echoes" - the tape loops have a calming effect after the preceding noisefest and fans of the OHM box set of electronic gurus from a few years ago will be in their glory. In the middle of the track, it even sounds like someone is playing one of those old Atari Pong video games and E.A.R.s Data Rape collection of circuit bending immediately springs to mind. The guitar distortions are absent from this track, so it becomes more of an exercise in electronic sound manipulation and is the best track on the album.

The 10-minute closer, "Seven Stars," begins quieter than a churchmouse--if you close you eyes, you can imagine yourself deep in the middle of space surrounded by emptiness and black holes. The elliptical sound levels rise and fall to the point where the track almost becomes an exercise in futility as I was constantly reaching for the remote to pump up the volume so I could hear the music. I picture Brian Eno composing his soundscapes in a vacuum on some moon of Jupiter. In this respect, the tune takes on a subliminal effect not unlike Eno's great ambient works (Discreet Music is a close benchmark) and you'll be asking yourself, "Is it over yet, or is there more to come?" It's a shame, because the music, when audible, is very pretty and relaxing--it's too bad it's so difficult to hear. This dichotomy between the tension of straining to hear the notes and the music itself may help contribute to the intended effect of floating helplessly among the "Seven Stars" of the title, but the only effect it had on me was one of frustration. Final word: recommended to students of avant garde, electronic, experimental tape and sound manipulation, but fans of traditional song-structured pop are advised to look elsewhere.

Acid Mothers Temple and The Melting Paraiso U.F.O. - 41st Century Splendid Man (Tumult)

We lambasted these hippie weirdoes' last couple of releases as noisy experiments in how fast can one clear a room and their latest does nothing to alleviate our headaches. On this, their seemingly dozenth release this year, they've totally gone off the deep end, which, if you've heard any of their other 2,000 releases in the past few years is really a dubious achievement. About 25 years ago, The Buzzcocks sang "Noise Annoys" and as long as the Acid Mothers continue to unleash their rehearsal jams on a curiously receptive public (for surely one wouldn't claim these screechings were actually "finished product"), it will continue to do so.

As a man, I could only imagine the excruciating pain of childbirth, but it can't be any worse than sitting through the grueling torture chamber of side one's "The Creation of Man." Let's just say I'll take passing a kidney stone over this interminably rambling air raid siren of a song any day. Rarely have I heard 20 minutes of musicians trying to decide what to do actually dignified with the word "song," and that includes suffering through dozens of my friend's live Dead tapes. Basically what you get here is a bunch of whaling sirens, ominous sound effects of wind rustling over desert sands and occasional guitar noise that sounds like someone just discovered the instrument and decided to start pounding on it to see what kind of noise it made. If they approached Kubrick with this maelstrom to accompany his "Birth of Man" sequence in 2001: A Space Odyssey, he'd have listened to about 2 minutes and shipped their hippie asses back to Japan on the next flight. At least the erotic picture disk with the obviously excited naked babe on side two might fetch me my money back on ebay, where AMTs blink-and-you-missed-them limited edition releases are fetching mucho bucks these days. Final word: Recommended for masochists whose idea of fun includes bleeding from orifices and migraines the size of Alaska.

The All Golden - A Long Good Friday (Microtone)

For the past quarter of a century, just about the only thing that put Kent, Ohio on the musical map was Neil Young's tribute to the slain students at the state university, "Ohio." Thanks in no small part to the Phil Spector-with-strings genius of local producer, Kevin Coral, that town's ghosts are slowly being exorcised. Having guided two powerful releases by his Witch Hazel Sound into the collective consciousness of pop music lovers the world over, Coral returns to the mother board to helm this debut release on Microtone Records (cat. # MIC 001) by fellow Kenters (Kentites?) The All Golden, whose name, I believe, stems from the Van Dyke Parks song off his 1968 Song Cycle album. (When I spoke with Kevin recently, he made no bones about being stuck in a 1968 frame of reference during the writing of WHS' latest This World, Then The Fireworks..., which was one of our favorite releases from last year. The numerologist in me can't let go of the idea that the '68 connection is more than coincidence, even though I'm sure it is.) With assistance from past and present WHS drummers Craig Lisik and Christian Volpe, the duo of Scott Bennett and Chris Sheehan, who share guitar, vocal, bass and songwriting duties have crafted another fine entry into the impressive catalog of Mideast pop previously inhabited by the likes of Cheap Trick, Shoes, Raspberries and the Michael Stanley Band, to name just a few ringers.

When first (and last) we heard from The Golden boys, it was via the festive 7" "Velikovsky" (included here), complete with sleigh bells and lyrics about decking halls. Their full length kicks off with the bouncy "Your Bad Wires" and the anthemic singalong "Bright," only to stumble slightly with the ensuing "Northern Lites" and "Tom Collins (Genius Isn't A Mixed Drink)," which find the duo visiting the upper registers with limited success--let's just suggest it's a nice place to visit, but don't plan on moving in. "More or Less" is the best of many (perhaps a bit too many for a debut) ballads, reminiscent of some of Pete Townshend's solo efforts. In fact, if we hooked him up with a couple more of Ohio's favorite sons, Guided By Voices' Robert Pollard and Tobin Sprout, you'd have a good indication of the treasures which lie beneath this pretty, yet haunting tale of love's labours lost. Coral's mournful keyboard flourishes cement the acoustic (heart)string strummings and tuggings, wrenching an extra tear or three and guaranteeing not a dry eye in the house by song's end. Sniff :>(

"Halfway Down" is a great pop screamer that compares favorably with The Rembrandts, those "Breakfast at Tiffany's" one hit wonders, Deep Blue Something, and the upbeat folk of the Five Chinese Brothers. I did, however, have a hard time following the storyline of "Smoking's The Last Sin." I think it's about escaping from a nowhere town, probably not unlike Kent, but the song is so infectious that you'll still find yourself humming along to the melody a few days later and not really worrying about it's "great message." Kevin even tosses in a few trademark instru-ludes ("Message To Bernie" and "Innovation In Miniature") to help calm the rock-y waters.

Final word: Promising debut, although I prefer the bouncier, poppier songs to the ballads, which weighed down the album too much for me. That's not to say there aren't hidden gems within the layers of this onion and my mind kept drifting back to lesser known treats from the likes of The Association (the Goodbye Columbus soundtrack) and Chad & Jeremy's Of Cabbages and Kings or The Ark without the political overtones. Perhaps we'll hear more from the upbeat side of town on their next offering, which I'm looking forward to hearing.

Various Artists - Songs For The End Of The World (Silber)

I'm sure musicians around the world were scurrying to their instruments to capture their emotions in music on 911, and Brian John Mitchell's excellent Silber Records imprint is the first indie label to issue a eulogy of sorts for the victims of the attacks. The disk is comprised of 17 (mostly) musical interpretations of images of chaotic destruction and unheralded bravery in the face of unspeakable horror. It covers both ends of the emotional spectrum, from the shrieking cacophony of anger that Drekka conducts the Mt. Gigantic Drone Orchestra wrenches from "The Work in Question is Unbeknownst to Most" to the catatonic shock and jawdropping astonishment reflected in the quieter ambient pieces from The Land of Nod ("Temporal"), My Glass Beside Yours ("Steel Styons"), Jessica Bailiff (the tearjerking "Fall) and Max Soren ("CMBR").

"Fall of the World Trade Center" by North Carolina's Electric Bird Noise is a haunting, distorted (as in, "please clean the dust off your needle") set piece consisting solely of a lonely piano tinkling in an empty room with the sound of the towering inferno off in the distance. It perfectly captures that unbelievable trek of the gentleman who ran through the duststorm, videotaping the carnage (at least now I know where all that dust on the stylus came from). Mark Gartman's "For The Loss" sounds like someone invited Godspeed You Black Emperor to play at the funeral party, and Mitchell (who also records as Remora) contributes "In The Jaws Of Angels," a morose yearning for answers that, nevertheless, has a glass-is-half-full hopeful underpinning to it. Only Origami Amika's "The Pretty One," which sounds like the playback of a recording of a diner conversation totally unrelated to the theme at hand, and Low's Alan Sparhawk's collaboration with his daughter, Hollis (billed as Hollis M. Sparhawk & Her Father, and consisting of little more than pounding drums and cooing and gurgling in the background - it's unclear who's doing what) fail to impress. It's a good argument against nepotism in the music industry.

Elsewhere, the aforementioned My Glass Beside Yours track would have made a much better soundtrack to the images of the twin towers (i.e., steel styons) with smoke billowing out the windows and bodies leaping to certain death than all those countless rehashings of "United We Stand." Flare contributes a beautiful lullaby, "Death Lies Close At Hand," whose uplifting, lilting melody in no way eases the pain of those who lost friends or loved ones, but may make it a little easier to accept, when one realizes that death is close at hand to all of us -- it's just that some leave in ways we least expect and least desire.

Final word: Recommended to those who find solace in listening to music, allowing it to ease your pain. I think many of us do that because we find beauty in music that helps us deal with the ugliness of the world. I'd love to be able to say that some of the proceeds from this release will go to reputable organizations working to assist families of the 911 victims, but indie labels are not in a position to give away the meager profits that keep them afloat the way the major commercial labels can. However, the intent is commendable, the execution is enjoyable and memorable, and your support is encouraged. I was moved more by almost any single track on this small release (limited to 500, so act fast) than all those big budget, glad-handing and backslapping "major artists" marketing ploys combined. But I would like to call particular attention to the closing track, If Thousands' "Will There Be My Soul." It outdoes Michael Gira (ex-Swans, current Angels of Light mainman) at his own mournful, depressing game and serves as a fitting finale to this heartwrenching collection. It would have sat very comfortably alongside anything on Soundtracks for The Blind, itself an album I strangely found myself listening to constantly last fall. The year is young, but Songs For The End Of The World is something I will be remembering when I'm tabulating my favorite releases at the end of the year.

[ Home ] [ Flashes From The Archives Of Oblivion ]