Seeing as how I got pissed on by Foxy Digitalis for no good reason, for the time being I’ll be posting reviews here

Here are some new reviews for you. For my blog, I’ll not be posting those inane 1-10 stars ratings–one of the stupidest Rolling Stone style ways of rating works. So, enjoy.

Artist: Various
Title: Alphabets & Animals
Label: Godxiliary

All in all, not a bad electropop sampler. Website Godxiliary proposed that 26 artists create animal-themed compositions for the compilation,and then for whatever reason sequenced the tunes in alphabetical order. Most of the songs hold up fairly well, and while the intentions of the theme are a little hazy, it really doesn’t matter much. It’s difficult to avoid arbitrariness on some level when putting together a comp., and while there are plenty of examples that fly in the face of that assertion, there are more which support it.

“Alphabets and Animals” is also an open-source project and is offered as a free download at the venerable Archive.org. You can also get a copy of the disc itself, a roughly presented black handmade which recalls early hardcore packaging in some ways.

While the commons on this disc is that these artists are all considered electronic, there is a tangible feel of basement aesthetics present, resulting from a wide range of instrumentation. “Boa Constrictor” by artist Sound is a great example. As an almost electro-acoustic pop outing, the song features harmonica and some primitive sounding found drum instrumentation. And so it goes. The record is quite varied, often humorous and for anyone interested in the many paths of pop, it’s difficult to imagine that someone would reject everything on the disc. And as a free download (http://www.archive.org/details/GXDL05), who can complain?

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: Ard Bit
Title: Spanon
Label: Symbolic Interaction

Sometimes as a writer, as a critic in this case, there inevitably comes a point where he or she has to write about music that they’re pretty much indifferent toward. In this scenario, it’s often the case that the writer neither likes nor dislikes the material—that in fact, it doesn’t inspire much of anything—whether it be passion or intellectual consideration. It’s at this point that the writer has to ask his or herself whether they respect what the artist is doing. It gets to the heart of what criticism is. There’s nothing more difficult than writing about a subject which inspires neither passion or noetic contemplation. As a writer, it may be one of the greatest challenges of all. When we write fiction, for instance, it’s typically the case that we write about subjects with which we care about in some way, so the dilemma is rarely encountered in that arena. In any sort of art criticism, there will come a time when we’re faced with the problem described above, and though I’ve dealt with it in various ways before, I thought I’d take this opportunity to describe the problems a writer faces when they are dealing with music (in this case) that they are utterly indifferent toward.

The first important thing is that this indifference doesn’t reflect negatively on the artist. Naturally, we humans have varying interests. So I asked myself, do I disrespect what Ard Bit is trying to accomplish, and the answer is clearly ‘no.’ I respect that he is working on solving the problems he sees as a musician, and working passionately to do so. It’s just that this music doesn’t move me.

“Spanon” is electronic music influenced by dubstep. In its mood, it is evocative, to my ears, of many of the same emotions as, say, Autechre. Ard Janssen, aka Ard Bit, is a serious student of the music he creates. He studied electronic composition at The Institute of Sonology, Royal Conservatory of The Hague and earned his degree in 2003. While the document is in no way my cup of tea, it reflects the earnestness and love of music. The one strong element of the disc I recognize is its architecture. Not the beats or the lineage of where dubstep came from, but angularity of the music. However, other than that, I don’t have much else to say. Those who like dubstep, those who dig Autechre, you may well like this music, so I would recommend it to anyone interested in either of those. In fact, anyone interested in electronica, a very loose term, might well do themselves a favor by listening to “Spanon.”

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: Arrington de Dionyso
Title: Music For Two Tape Recorders
Label: sPLeeNCoFFiN
10 of 10.

A cleverly packaged dual cassette release by Arrington de Dionyso, the “case” is actually a gutted book with a hand-drawn front and back cover. The inner sleeve also features a splendidly fucked illustration with the following instructions:

“Simultaneous recordings made on two tape recorders, 10-08-08. For best results play both cassettes at the same time, starting at any section on either cassette.”

I really love the spirit of experimentation here, not only because it hearkens back to true experimental music as defined by Michael Nyman in his important, influential book “Experimental Music: Cage and Beyond,” but also because it puts the experimental aspect in the hands and ears of the listener. The music, to a large extent, is derived from drone, but is in no way a pure form of that music. I’ve listened to both cassettes individually and then in concert as recommend by the artist and have come to the conclusion that the recommended form of listening is indeed the best. Listening to the music in ‘dual mode’ really seems to bring out the most intriguing elements of timbre. It also allows him to, if not surpass (probably a poor word choice there), distinguish himself from the overt influences his music seems to invoke—Tuvan throat singing and perhaps even Dada sound poems.

Arrington de Dionyso appears to take his work very seriously, and to excellent effect. As mentioned before, he has an earnest interest in timbre, and moving parallel with that interest is a deep concern with harmonics, sideswiping to create some stellar microtonal effects. This music is to be distinguished from the wide-ranging misnomer often applied to sophomoric artists who either call themselves experimental or have been called as much by critics who no know better.

The instrumentation on these records sound like some sun-directional reeds, but the playing is so anomalous it’s difficult to tell exactly which reed instrument(s) it/they are. Paired with the multi-instrumentation is also the afore-mentioned vocals. In the end, the effect is both emotional and unsentimental. If you can find a copy, do yourself a favor and get it. He’s also a member of Old Time Relijun, whose recordings come highly recommended as well. What a great recording it is.

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: Axemen
Title: Scary! Part III
Label: Siltbreeze

Long known underground stars from New Zealand, The Axemen are now gaining some well-deserved notoriety here in the States thanks to one of our finest labels, Siltbreeze. Tom Lax has again exhibited sterling musical sense in repressing “Scary! Part III” and “Big Cheap Motel.” And while it’s not an easy task trying to pin down their sound, especially considering the variety of their entire discography (much less the territorial span of music on this release), I’ll give it a shot.

On my first listening, I immediately drew a comparison to Royal Trux, but that was basically drawn from the majority of vocals on the record, featuring some of the coolest, junked-out vox either before or after the Trux hit the scene. From the get-go, the song “Heart Bullet” features some insanely fucked up vocals and word play. Unlike a lot of New Zealand music, the vocals are uncharacteristically mixed up and not buried in the instrumentation. It kind of paradoxically makes the voice seem like another instrument—I’m at a loss finding (other than Herrema) anyone to compare the vocals to while maintaining any real dignity. Suffice it to say that they’re easily in the upper echelon of all rock vox, and it’s continued across both wunnerfuly screwed tracks on the double LP set.

Though the music is varied, you never get the feeling that the album was thrown together as pieces. As incoherent and absurd as it is, the record has a marvelous cohesion, at times overtly a downer, such as the track “10 Miles (as the crow flies)” and other points like the near-sinister, hardcore influenced “Join the R.A.F.” It’s near-put impossible to fix these fellers into any genre, and that’s a damn good thing. Not only that, it’s a fucking difficult thing to pull off convincingly, yet the Axemen do so with, well what’s the write word, grace? How about ‘instinct?’ That seems more apropos. It’s an instinct which speaks more to an overall aesthetic than does it any attempt to play this or that style of music.

This one of the strangest records ever sludged to wax, and it’s caused that compulsive collector in my to try and track down any and all of their recordings, which, from what I’ve read, is going to be a formidable task. This is no surprise since they formed around 1981 and have recorded pretty consistently since, and even through the broad spectrum of music the venerable Flying Nun label have pressed over the years, The Axemen stand totally on their own. Flying Nun wasn’t their only label over the years—there have been several, but as an American touchstone, it’s appropriate to mention them as one of the better-known imprints to bring up.

All I can tell you is that, even on this one double LP, influences include American hardcore and DIY, Beefheart (though nothing obvious springs to mind at the outset), a sort of Zappaesque sense of humor, bizarre synth music, employ of loops and on and on. The Axemen are their own entity. The only downside to this is that it took so long for an American pressing to go down. I’ve heard that they’ve met with largely great critical press on their recent tour of the U.S. One can only hope that it continues and that we see them again very soon.

P. Somniferum

*

Title: The Black Box
Artist: various
Label: Flingco Sound System

I’ve tried now for a couple of months to get into this little novelty gadget and appreciate its idiosyncrasies, but I can’t. The Black Box is a hand held, plastic tombstone which runs either on batteries or via an A/C adapter. As far as content goes, the compilation is not unlike RRR’s locked groove records. It holds 9 tracks of dark ambient, spoken word and noise pieces. There is a little more control than one might expect as you can select loops to play infinitely (or until the battery dies) and can move from one loop to the next. When I’m feeling especially cynical, I simply ignore items like this. The audio is horrible, but it does have a headphone jack so you can improve the single speaker output on the device. However, when I’m feeling a little more generous, as I am tonight, I’ll give it more than a glance. The sounds on it aren’t too bad, but there really isn’t much to go on as far as delving into a track. Then again, this is hardly a conventional recording, so I guess that doesn’t make too much of a difference. The artists featured on the box are FSS artists and include Cristal, Haptic, Wrnlrd and Annie Feldmeier Adams. Unfortunately for them, if you haven’t heard them before this isn’t the best introduction to their work. On the other hand, if you know the artists and enjoy them, then this just might be the kind of gimmick you can enjoy. You can decide for yourself. Go to the site at http://www.flingcosound.com/theblackbox.html and there you can view a picture of the box and get the label’s skinny on it.

It’s kind of like a Halloween toy, and the music definitely has a goth slant to it. The highlight of the disc is a meditation, a spoken word piece which simply repeats the mantra, “I will not kill myself today.” What’s so great about that? Well, the fact that the voice is a dead ringer for Marlon Brando, and the loop is great for laughs.

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: Children of Scaremidget
Title: Invocations
Label: El Tule Tapes

This recycled cassette is one of the most mysterious, brutish releases I’ve heard in quite awhile. To describe them as absurdist only grazes the sane insanity on this release. Decadent, hopeless, but most importantly, humor of the cruelest, most vile sort. The theme? Well, one side of this ultimate example of DIY is primarily poorly recorded evangelistic hymns, and who knows how long those putrid renditions of death-loving Christianity existed on this marvelously fucked tape. The only way they can top this is that it gets devoured by a $1500 cassette deck.

Reminiscent of the ultra-rare recordings of The Splice Girls who existed in the mid to late 90′s, they released a long series of thematic recordings of embarrassment and degradation, of moral inertia, most of which were designed to disintegrate via various chemical treatments, being drug behind cars in mud etc. I heard on more than one occasion that customers of The Splice Girls were outraged that this almost inevitably happened. Well, when music is currency for drug trades, ahem, you get art that dies. Along the way to the tapes of literal self-destruction, the point revealed was simple: The process underscored so many existential cliche’s, but to my mind most of the recordings were the perfect marriage of form and content, also known as feces and piss.

Enter our current lovelies, Children of Scaremidget. Aside the near-nihilist snatches of sound and tape manipulation, COS tread the same ground as the afore-mentioned Splice Girls, as well as being reminiscent of Costes and Suckdog at their respective peaking nadirs. Paragons of smut they were, the standard during the golden shower era of shit tape music, such as when the “Drugs Are Nice” LP ruled the top 40 millimeters of swirling bowl water. Well, that aside, the tape itself has a prank element to it—or does it? I sense no real irony here. On one side there is Southern Gospel. In fact, it’s peppered throughout the cassette because it existed on the tape before COS made the wise decision to use the dilapidated Christian worship of death. As I recall, The Splice Girls did the same on several recordings. I realize that many people hate this kind of anti-art, but I think dung like this is as necessary to the vitality of moving music and performance forward or backward or sideways, because, let’s face it. When you’re this fucked up, the inner compass fails almost always. It’s rather amazing how something so decadent, toneless, and untalented can provide the counterweight for all those lame asshole carbon copies out there.

There’s little redeemable here, and for that, it’s all the mo better glues. I for one am glad COS decided to go through with keeping nobody honest, themselves included, and I’m elated to report—they reached me, and I’ll not forget these CHUDs anytime soon, barring dementia. They reached out and slid their cruddy fingers around and into my void with their wonderfully inept vocal cut-ups, their bargain basement organs (don’t work my side of the street, assholes) strewn carelessly across some horrible static and tape hiss. What makes this tape such a whimpering success? a truer document of total fucking artlessness has never been needed more than now, what with a world of arteests who risibly take themselves seriously. It’s hard to argue against miscreants who so boldly represent the general state of things. Very nice to meet you.

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: Davey Williams
Title : Antenna Road
Label: Trans Museq

Contrary to all good sense and musical justice, Davey Williams, outside the small circle of first wave, post-free jazz improvisational music, still remains underheard considering both his technical expertise and surreal genius. This flies in the face of good ol’ horse sense. I’m guessing that Davey wants nothing to do with elitism, whether it be with his music or his humble, down-home Alabama roots. For Davey, it’s always been about commitment to his music, always looking to broaden his horizons. In addition to the fact that he’s a virtuoso and introduced the blues-slide via the whammy bar to non-idiomatic, Davey also inaugurated a Vaudevillian sense of humor into his performances, bringing something new into a music all too-often laden with an off-putting air solemnity. As he has said, “I can’t properly describe myself as a true vaudevillian for three main reasons: I don’t dance, I can’t sing and play guitar at the same time and I can never remember any good jokes. On the other hand, a musician playing on a stage is an inherently boring sight much of the time…This is why I began to get increasingly interested in this ‘vaudevillian’ idea of using improvised performance as a vehicle for trying to be open to extra-musical ideas and activities. For the most part this consists mostly of what you might call messing around on stage, interrupting or delaying the musical seriousness (if there is any) with the idea that I’m actually doing – or trying to do – something else, except that I happen to be standing in front of an audience with a guitar around my neck.”

Perhaps it had to with Williams earning his chops playing the southern blues circuits with likes of Johnny Shines, and in fact, his and LaDonna’s story is begging for a biography (hint). I’ve also reviewed the latest outing by LaDonna elsewhere—should be up at FD sometime soon. When speaking of the origins of improvisation in the U.S., leaving the likes of Davey Williams and LaDonna Smith out is tantamount to eliminating Derek Bailey and AMM out of the conversation of groundbreaking playing across the big ditch. Doing so is shabby and ignorant.

Through the years, those who have closely followed the developments, the intersections, forks in the roads, off-ramps and detours of jazz, blues, classical, rock and any number of genres ingeniously combined with non-idiomatic flourishes are quick to acknowledge his incredible contributions to a legacy which will endure for a long as music will ever matter. “Antenna Road” is yet another document attesting to the the attributes mentioned above, and also takes a step in another direction for Williams, who recently took up the sitar.

As cerebral and soulful as any guitarist of his or any era, Davey forged his idiosyncratic modes of playing both through conscious technique as well as a healthy nod to both surrealism and Dada—for instance, using motorized toys, electric screwdrivers and the like. Though he has discussed his methodology and theory, it hasn’t been without hesitance. It’s as if he understood the limitations of language as a way to fully characterize his work. My impression isn’t that he feels it’s a futile effort, but rather made the conscious decision not to excessively talk about what it is he does, choosing instead to the let the music do the talking for him. For instance, on his philosophy, Davey astutely states, “They say you can’t compare apples and oranges. You can compare oranges and butter, however. Butter is a different color, and they don’t taste the same. This is the basis of my philosophy.” It goes without saying, then, that this aptly describes his new record.

As far as Mr. Williams’ solo discography is concerned, this is one of his most quad-fisted records to date, surpassing even “Charmed, I’m Sure.” “The Trance (Version 2) is a testament to this, but in keeping with his unpredictability, the song following that one, “The Street Is An Empty Knife” is a song, and a rarity at that because he sings. Though he has sung in the past, most notably with his ensemble O.K. Nurse, Davey rarely sings. It’s nearly always a treat when he does, though, because his lyrics are characteristically absurd.

“Antenna Road” is a 30-song journey into an as-yet unnamed dimension highlighting his talent for overdubbing. The meat of the record is guitar, but he also plays dobro and sitar, and is yet another brilliant outing from an innovative, funny and ingenious artist.

P. Somniferum

Artist: Dim Holys
Title: Is There Heat Rising In Your Neck
Label: Oms-b Recordings

This cassette by Brian Mumferd (also of Dragging An Ox Through Water) is a lo-fi series of somnambulist drones which provoke questions in my mind like, ‘Has drone music shot its collective wad for this cycle?’ It’s a valid question, and is easily applied to this fairly pleasing yet mundane series of meditations, creating broken but warm textures only poor recording quality can produce. As we all know, poor recording quality ain’t got a whit to do with the success of the final product and is always contingent on the skill or lack thereof of each individual artist. This music is neither blissful nor transcendent, and no matter how much I’d like to take the full dive inward, “Is There Heat Rising In Your Neck” doesn’t serve the required dose. Were it not for the raw textures in these pieces, I’d be tempted to say this material belongs more in the Hearts of Space arena.

Drone is a deceptively sophisticated and venerable form of music, and the glut of it piling up over the last two decades has made sifting through the exceptional from the ordinary a time consuming task. Unfortunately, on “Is There Heat Rising In Your Neck” doesn’t quite get there as the compositions lack any real tension or unique insight into the form.

P. Somniferum

Artists: I Heart Lung/DWMTG
Title: Ecstatic Jazz Duos LP
Label: Thor’s Rubber Hammer Productions

“Ecstatic Jazz Duos” is a robust split of two diverse, non-idiomatic duos. DWMTG represents all that is wonderful about control and skillfully employed emphasis. They’re a bass/percussion duo, and on their side they perform a suite of ten short pieces, all dynamically sound and played with utmost skill, attention and spiral eyed focus. Bassist Tony Gordon’s (Zandosis) fretwork is busy but precises, while percussionist Dale Miller is a testament to careful listening, not only embellishing Gordon’s impressive moves, but rounds out the pair with striking economy. Their sound is firmly rooted in what now can be safely termed as classic improvisational jazz on a recording which has a really intimate feel.

I Heart Lung is, as noted earlier, also a duo, their music creates an intriguing contrast to that of DWMTG. Here we have a guitarist (Chris Schlarb) and percussionist (Tom Steck). There are some solid fusion influences in their music, casting out a variety of sounds, and while not at all maximalist, when played behind DWMTG the music comes off as the flesh and blood to DWMTG’s skeleton. Schlarb’s guitar, a smoky, tube driven sound sans excessive distortion and effects, alternating free jams with quiet melodic gestures. It’s a balanced sound that at times feels as if they’re still working on defining their own “thing,” and at other times comes across a fulfilled.

P. Somniferum

*

Artists: I Heart Lung/DWMTG
Title: Ecstatic Jazz Duos LP
Label: Thor’s Rubber Hammer Productions

“Ecstatic Jazz Duos” is a robust split of two diverse, non-idiomatic duos. DWMTG represents all that is wonderful about control and skillfully employed emphasis. They’re a bass/percussion duo, and on their side they perform a suite of ten short pieces, all dynamically sound and played with utmost skill, attention and spiral eyed focus. Bassist Tony Gordon’s (Zandosis) fretwork is busy but precises, while percussionist Dale Miller is a testament to careful listening, not only embellishing Gordon’s impressive moves, but rounds out the pair with striking economy. Their sound is firmly rooted in what now can be safely termed as classic improvisational jazz on a recording which has a really intimate feel.

I Heart Lung is, as noted earlier, also a duo, their music creates an intriguing contrast to that of DWMTG. Here we have a guitarist (Chris Schlarb) and percussionist (Tom Steck). There are some solid fusion influences in their music, casting out a variety of sounds, and while not at all maximalist, when played behind DWMTG the music comes off as the flesh and blood to DWMTG’s skeleton. Schlarb’s guitar, a smoky, tube driven sound sans excessive distortion and effects, alternating free jams with quiet melodic gestures. It’s a balanced sound that at times feels as if they’re still working on defining their own “thing,” and at other times comes across a fulfilled.

P. Somniferum

*

Artists: Steve Gunn and Shawn David McMillen
Title: End Of The City split LP
Label: Abandon Ship Records, DNT and Abaddon Recordings (split)

“End of the City” showcases two artists laying claim to one side apiece. Gunn’s piece is a sidelong venture, beginning with a fairly straight forward faux-raga, highlighting Gunn’s passion for picking as he lightly dances atop the perfectly mixed drone underpinning. On that, he begins his picking which some have compared to a Takoma-style approach. While there is some validity to this perspective, I don’t hear that level of expertise or even commitment to finger picking. The music is melodic, stepping up and down the defined base of the music, the drone, which sounds like bowed strings. It’s a nice, comfortable listen, but it really offers nothing challenging. So what. This is the first half of the side though, and as the music progresses, Gunn begins to expand his lexicon a bit, exploring wavering roots—those bowed strings—which progressively give the music a warm and increasingly wobbly feeling. In turn, this creates a welcome uncertainty, though fundamentally the same, so we never really feel this music is going to transport us somewhere unexpected. It’s this raga feel which at times recalls the work of Robby Krieger of The Doors, the way he deftly moves up and down the scale, adding both undulating and punctuated flourishes and exclamation points which seem to exploit that mounting feel of sway the elasticity of the root provides. As the music nears the end, the swelling drones continue to take prominence, resulting in the loss of a firm foundation. In turn, this throws the music into something much more haunting, hallucinogenic and intriguing. In the end, Gunn creates quite a zoned landscape rife with the silhouettes of his influences, all the while enriched by his keen sense of controlled, humming feedback.. Gunn’s side is a slowly evolving, calculated journey toward languid, and at times even blissful imbalance.

On side 2, we hear something completely different yet wonderfully complimentary to Gunn’s side. Shawn David McMillen plays a much more varied series of musical vignettes which segue from one to the next in way which never feels forced. The result is an almost surreal feel, a sort of non-linear narrative. Featuring a wide array of atmospheric sounds and instrumentation, he makes good and pointed use of tapes/manipulation, field recordings, piano, percussion and synths. It comes across as nomadic psychedelia, and while it does create drama and pathos, it does so in a decidedly unsentimental way. The progress of the music keeps the listener engaged and is satisfying on many levels, as McMillen weaves Faust “Tapes” style piano weirdness, subdued early industrial influences combined with more experimental elements of komische music—and beyond. Great job on behalf of both of these artist.

I’d also be remiss if I didn’t mention that this LP is the offspring of a Ménage à trois between the three labels noted above: Abandon Ship Records, DNT and Abaddon Recordings. I’m looking forward to getting my paws on more material by both of these musicians.

P. Somniferum

Artist: Nicole Kidman
Title: s/t
Label: Folktale Records

This lo-fi loser’s extravaganza is a throwback to when ‘sick’ actually meant something. The self-titled cassette is a good document for those seeking to explore how dysfunction may sound when it’s robed (white, terrycloth, institutional, standard issue) in toy pop electronica, with those devastatingly wicked Casio tones and beats, and expressed through highly neurotic lyrics detailing all the outcomes of unwise life choices.

I think the comparisons to Daniel Johnston are inevitable. Suffice it to say that the level of derangement, either feigned or real, is comparable to that of Johnston, both for style and content. But Kidman’s lyrics are deceptively clever and well-wrought, dripping with the kind of hurt and bitterness which can only be earned, but warped enough to cause uneasy and maybe even defensive laughter. Kidman’s wobbly, world weary voice is the star of the show, and the choice of instrumentation is apropos. There are no naive, glamorized and/or glorified drug lyrics. Rather, everything herein is thrown under the harshest, most unkind and unflattering, most truth-telling fluorescent lighting, where every self-induced or familial scar bulges purple and mouths ‘mama.’ I don’t normally tend to talk about things like authenticity, but this sounds like the real deal—a truly bad trip and a horrid upbringing.

Kidman embodies the same sort of desperation that underground anti-heroes like The Legendary German Shepherds did and all the twisted emotional baggage that goes with it. Of course, he could just be lying, but what’s the difference? It doesn’t matter. For those with an unhealthy obsession in which peeking through trailer windows is part and parcel, dig in.

P. Somniferum

Artist: Zack Kouns
Title: Michael Jackson: I Just Can’t Start Loving You
Label: Ownness

Mr., Kouns is one of those artists who is refreshingly unpredictable, and “Michael Jackson: I Just Can’t Start Loving You” is a perfect example of how dicey an endeavor trying to pin him down can be.

The majority of these sinister ditties are piano and keys based songs, embellished with, I dunno, maybe Juno synths and some sort of cheapo sonic embellishments and sparingly used chimes. This is one of the records that I reacted to almost immediately but chose to listen to numerous times. Though the music is mostly ballads, the lyrical content is fairly sick. For instance, the song “Desperation Is Coveted,” a great example of a cheerful chord progression features ironically motivated words of violence and insanity: “Torture and Violence/Is Our Inheritance/I felt them surge up inside of me;commingled with impotence and fear.”

The overall effect is similar to a mix of John Trubee and Boyd Rice, though the music resembles neither. On a personal note, I’d like to hear a duet between Lisa “Suckdog” Carver and Mr. Kouns. “Michael Jackson: I Just Can’t Start Loving You” is one of those records which can both be categorized with ease when it comes to its off-kilter pop, but nearly impossible to pigeon-hold when paired with the sickness of the lyrics. As far as its genre-twisting content goes, it’s the kind of record I love. Bizarre and catchy, Zack Kouns has managed to create on of those weird ones. Cheers!

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: Mincemeat Or Tenspeed
Title: All Critters
Label: Deathbomb Arc, Malleable, Big Monies Tapes

My first exposure of Mincemeat or Tenspeed was when he opened up for Social Junk in Denton, TX. My recollection of their sound is it’s oddly melodic ferocity, full of rich overtones and singular, trance-like beats unlike any you’ll hear from drum machines or tracker rhythms. In other words, it was lovely like entrails. The words “sassy deathgasm” popped into my mind during the show and they stuck. As a result of their gig, I decided to call my new blog that same term.

I bought “All Critters” after the gig. This is prime electronic noise punk with uncommon derivations: lots of fx pedals, no computers; in other words, music which is made with a unique process to fucked up results. Keep your eyes and ears open for “Strange Gods,” the new LPs by this feller. I’ve been in love with this amalgam of rock and electronica since I first put it on my turntable.

You can get an idea of both the process and sound of Mincemeat or Tenspeed at this Youtube post, though the quality of audio in no way captures the bombast and subtlety of the music.

P. Somniferum

Artist: Nonnon
Title: The Entitlement Generation
Label: Automation Records

Nonnon’s new record (in this case, cassette) is essentially two different records in one. Side 1 is a stellar amalgam of hip-hop and glitch, spiced up with lots of irreverence and psyched out as almost any Boredoms release, adorned with primarily digital effects bandied generously throughout. Side 2 is, to put it simply, less interesting and almost straight-up IDM. In the hands of a weak artist it might make the tape a failure. But in the capable paws of Salt Lake City’s Nonnon (Dave Madden), it coalesces into, if not a roaring success, a very good record.

The first half begins with a song called “Coil Is Playing At My House (My House),” and it sets the tone of (at least) this side perfectly. Heavy on the 2′s and 4′s (and then blowing them [thefuck] up, Nonnon crunches up beats with natural ease and builds them up with plenty of winkin’ and stinkin’ cosmic guff. The hip-hop influence is heavy, but the humor and will to destroy in order to create forges something new enough to stay intriguing. Idiosyncratic and groovy as fuck, every song on this side is well-composed and mixed. Interestingly, the effects (mostly a mix of ‘on-board’ sounding digifx native to trackers and studio programs) sound nearly retro at this point, which is as much a testament to instant-obsolescence as it is to the artist’s choice. I’m not sure if he meant to timestamp his record as being a turn of the millennium document, but it sort of sounds that way. The use of computers and various programs, whether it’s a simple tracker or something more sophisticated like Cubase, often translates into the recording being time-identifiable. I have no idea whether that’s important to Nonnon or not, but it’s something to consider. In this case it doesn’t matter much because the music is as solid. It’s ready for the hood ornament.

Side 2 isn’t as interesting. It’s as well done in almost every aspect, but the focus of the whole of the tape is blurred because Nonnon pretty much abandons the hip-hop influence and opts instead for a “Quasi-Objects” era Matmos inspired headlong jig into IDM territory. Where the first side is a healthy mix of two sub-genres, the tape loses its luster and becomes less multi-dimensional, diluted due to a lack of focus. The music itself is good, albeit definitely derivative, lacking the zest of side 1. It’s not important that Nonnon focus on one genre or the other; just that he does so on separate records. It’s still a good thing to consider an LP as a whole.

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: John Phillips
Title: Man On The Moon: The John Phillips Space Musical
Label: Varèse Sarabande Records

Back when John Phillips wasn’t filling his time doing cocaine with his family, he occasionally made some memorable music. Depending on your sense of humor, the off-Broadway musical “Man on the Moon” might fall into the category of memorable, though none of this music will ever be viewed with the sincerity or love any of his more notable work is. But for a multitude of reasons I believe that it’s worth your while and that it’ll gain momentum as time goes on, not the opposite.

The musical was universally panned. There were some vicious remarks made about it after its premiere. Perhaps the work deserved it, perhaps not—the CD package includes some video footage, but it’s impossible to make any final appraisal based on it—it’s rehearsal footage. When compared to his finer and more polished material, with all of those lush harmonies and melancholy minors that so characterized Phillips, it’s easy to see how more conventional critics might not “get it,” or might have been disenchanted with the straight-forward, even nostalgic and folksy kitsch on Moon. Yet when one listens to the music divorced from any expectations he or she might have built up due to earlier efforts, there’s a wonderful sense of humility and lightheartedness (despite the content of the words) at play, and via this charm (and the benefit of retrospect) it seems to succeed as an autonomous record.

For the bulk of the musical, Phillips ditched all baroque curlycues and paid most of his composing attention to callow guitar accompaniments to rudimentary vocal melodies. This isn’t intended as a slam, nor is it intended to say that it was aesthetically anything like, oh, the Modern Lovers or Beat Happening. The songs are simply simple. Though the instrumentation was, at times, fairly broad, the gist of the score is a bare bones shindig incorporating cabaret, tin pan alley, traditional American folk and hints of Dixieland and are as catchy and filled with hooks as you might imagine a cocktail of those influences being.

On top of the different musical direction Phillips was taking, there was also the cheap production values with which to contend, the gaudy costuming done by Marsia Trinder, a Brit who designed clothes for Elvis and Raquel Welch, among others, and all of the irony-laden puff typified by anything producer Andy Warhol touched. Its near-Plan 9-like costuming and effects were another blow to critics—and in turn, to Phillips and crew. As a result of the negative reviews and publicity, the show closed in 5 days.

With all of the ensuing disappointment, the music pretty much disappeared for decades, only to resurface here to new ears (and eyes), along with different critical sets with which to judge the content. The unpretentious spirit embodied by “The Man On The Moon” is refreshing, and though blithely deranged, the values of the vox populi (circa-early 70′s) are undeniable. The strangeness of the production lent a curious twist to Phillips’ stuff, who was almost always accessible. He couldn’t have been very prepared for the lashings he would take, those bilious responses to his excursion.

The simple and touching story of “Man On The Moon” is a mix of autobiographical tidbits thrown in with a hopeful yet potentially dystopian science fiction narrative. There’s certainly nothing overwhelming or mind-blowing about it, rather it’s the opposite of that which makes “Man On The Moon” endearing. The CD includes extensive liner notes, rehearsal footage, a PDF file with the original playbill, photos, those aforementioned reviews, press clippings plus scripts in progress and early orchestrations. It makes for a nice package, definitely a curiosity for Mamas and Papas fans, and fetish material for those who seeks lost relics of pop art, particularly anything to do with Warhol.

P. Somniferum

*

Artists: LaDonna Smith and Michael Evans
Title: Deviant Shakti
Label: Transmuseq

“Deviant Shakti” is a fantastic recording featuring two accomplished, venerable musicians performing at their improvisational height. Evans, a percussionist and Theremin player, has studied drums with Milford Graves, technique with Joe Morello, tabla with Misha Masud, kanjira with Ganesh Kumar and Hatian/Afro-Cuban hand-drumming with John Amira. His playing in tandem with LaDonna highlights many of these influences and is imbued with remarkable subtlety and technique. Smith has commented to me on several occasions her joy playing with percussionists, in particular Evans, and the rapport they exhibit on this recording shows off the ecstatic tendencies of her music.

Noted for her passion and virtuosity, Smith shines yet again on this release, and though I haven’t had the opportunity to discuss with her the qualification ‘deviant’ in the title “Deviant Shakti,” always present in her performances and recordings is that primordial energy to which she alludes. For more of her take on her music and how it relates to her life, I did an interview with her for Perfect Sound Forever in 2003 which can be foundhere. Her thoughts and outlook are as profound as the sounds she creates.

Together, these two artists draw on a mind-boggling sphere of influences, not only creating new idioms along the way, but displaying their love for musics around the globe, whether they be insects in the backyard or the flowing, flowering sounds of Bollywood . This love translates not into the gauche terminology “world music,” but rather into a new, contemporary sound, often paradoxically so in that it draws from many classical forms. It’s no small feat and not an endeavor for anyone not seriously concerned with the directions of music for a shrinking Earth.

Davey Williams penned the liner notes, and within those he succinctly writes, “Meanwhile, two travelers follow different routes towards a single destination, which is everywhere and nowhere simultaneously, a place that exists as an ever-changing motion, a flow of unified soundings calling to me with the dynamism of a forest.

I hear the back country of the constellations in this music, a rough and tumble fluidity, a barn dance with benign movie monsters of supreme elegance.

I go for a swim, bathed in this audible delight.”

Indeed, supreme elegance sums up in two words both the product and the musicians, here heard at what never seems to peak for them—each outing seems to go places unfathomable and unbelievable. With both elan and ferocity, Smith and Evans have captured (yet again) the direction of new music, mapped it and have projected the paths for their next sonic discovery.

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: SND
Title: Atavism
Label: Raster-Notion

For years now, there’s been a crossroads represented by the point where avant-minimalism intersects with dance music. As a product of this intersection, one of the most unfortunate critical terminologies ever created to describe a new form of art evolved: IDM, or, intelligent dance music. I suppose that’s where we find SND. “Atavism” is a minimal work of rhythmic electronica, described by Dusted Magazine as being free of irony, as searching for a “way to transform dance rhythms into a minimal electronic setting.” I can take this or leave it. SND belongs to a growing population of musicians who are focused almost solely on beats or rhythmic constructions. However, as cerebral as this music might be, it often comes across as dry, intellectualized disco, or a form of music which demands its listener be wholly committed to its concerns. Fair enough. Fringe music almost always does this in one way or another. But contingent on this is how much the listener wants to play along. In my case, it isn’t very much.

SND toured with Autechre and have built up, over four albums worth of material, an impressive and earnest set of credentials. Still, artists like Atom or Matmos often introduce levity into their music which provides balance to other more intellectual concerns. This is precisely where “Atavism” lacks staying power. It comes across more as an exercise than does it a work of art, and while their (Mark Fell and Mat Steel) technical prowess does provide turf for fertile thought (if one so chooses to engage), the record lacks roundness. In other words, it’s so focused and insular, it comes off as a mere product of sub-genre specialization, and if you aren’t committed to the concerns of IDM, then there isn’t much else to hold the listener.

P. Somniferum

Artist: Tournament
Title: Years Old
Label: Forcefield

Tournament plays druggy hard rock, verging at times on metal, with ample feedback, some good guitar work, nice drums/big spanky bass, and hidden hooks. The vocalist has clearly ‘lost his shit’ as well, with lots of Albini-like screaming. The sound or aesthetic is reminiscent of early Steel Pole Bathtub, but maybe a bit more polished. While there’s nothing really revelatory about “Years Old,” it does stand on its on as a strong rock record and hearkens back to some of the more straightforward releases of Amphetamine Reptile. It seems every generation has its Tournament.

The highlight may be the track “From The Mouths of Non-Believers,” with its meditative, bass-driven, slow-churning, thanatotic grind. The cut never really takes off from there, but it’s more than enough. Another standout is “Big Box Opportunity,” which is a Pope roaster from beginning to end, and it has a great groove as well.

My only real problem with the band is their name, and while it isn’t as bad as ‘Helmet,’ it’s nearing that territory.

P. Somniferum

*

Artist: Ultraphallus
Title: The Clever
Label: self-released

Way back when I was in school I studied Samuel Beckett’s “How It Is.” My professor and mentor has a theory about that book. Long story short: he thinks that the novel is a dramatic portrayal of human beings being literally digested through the bowels of the universe. There are one or two moments of “The Clever” which make me think of it as being a sonic equivalent.

Somewhere well on the conventional side of The Melvins is where you’ll find Ultraphallus, though they do pull out some pretty weird shit here and there, keeping their moments of sustained elegance lively. The last half or so of “Boulder Dash” is a great example, featuring some massive, turning swells of digestive noise to accompany the main groove . Still, this is pretty standard fare all in all, but if you love metal it’ll probably be worth your while to check it out. Though I’m not a big fan of it (or any of its sub-genres), I find myself taking a shine to this. Whether it be the Brancaesque guitar tempest at the end of “Thrombosis” or the 8 pulsating minutes of “Clever Worm,” there’s a lot to behold here. “Clever Worm” may be the strongest, most intensely focused track on the disc. It’s a simple but effective semi-demi-grindcore meditation laced with back-mixed saxophone strung around the track like—nooooo, not entrails—like Christmas tree garland. And that angel up on top of the tree, the one with the smile on its face? That’s right. It’s getting fucked. By Ultraphallus.

Nice, cathartic buzz here, and though I doubt I’ll be listening to it a year down the road, it serves its temporal purposes quite well.

P. Somniferum

*

Artists: C. Spencer Yeh, Jon Lorenz and Ryan Jewell
Title: Live at the CAC 7.21.08, Cincinnati, Oh
Label: Krayon Recordings
10 of 10

This lovely live 7” of improvisational, non-idiomatic jazz features C. Spencer Yeh (Violin), Foxy Digitalis writer Jon Lorenz (Saxophones) and Ryan Jewell (Drums/percussion). Recorded in Cincinnati at the CAC on 7/21/08 (a very good recording, I might add, mastered by Carl Saff), the music is generally frenetic, with plenty of high-end emphasis and fantastic conversational elements between Yeh and Lorenz. As we all know, Yeh has many faces—that as a master of drone and his lesser known facade of jazz improvisational artist, having played with the likes of master musician LaDonna Smith. I believe I recall reading about one of their gigs in Baltimore, if I’m not mistaken. His virtuosic playing dances around both Lorenz, who impresses with his range in in this ensemble, as well as Jewell’s largely understated and unconventional approach to the skins. I only wish I could have been there to take in the entire gig, but as these outtakes are probably highlights, I can only say kudos to the players in these inspiring, high-energy cuts. How about a long-player, fellas?

P. Somniferum