Here We Go Magic Here We Go Magic (02.2008, Western Vinyl) Verdict: Paul Simon, Vampire Weekend minus the prep stars, real magic
I have been meaning to write a review for this for over three weeks now, but have been letting my laziness get in the way. However, do not let my procrastination fool you into thinking I am not way super in love with and excited about Here We Go Magic. I love the afro-beat influences that have been creeping into indie music over the last two or three years, and this album capitalizes on afro-beat better than anyone I have heard since Paul Simon. I know I have compared other albums to Simon's Rhythm of the Saints album (which is his best in my opinion) but Here We Go Magic is more like unto it than anything before, in a really good and non-copy-cat way. Luke Temple even sounds like Simon, which I never noticed until this album. Temple is one of my favorite vocalists to emerge over the last few years and his singer/songwriter loneliness and soul is not put to waste as one might have thought it would be by adding multi-layered instrumentals and loops into his new project. His vocals works wonderfully and eerily as always, quietly gracing the percussive beat driven rhythms of half the tracks on the album, while the other half are vocal free and drone based. Now, if you know me, you know that drone is a very touchy subject with me and that I am incredibly particular about the drone I find tolerable, so this next sentence should blow your socks off. I love every song on this album, drone and all. If that doesn't sell you, I don't know what will.
Animal Hospital Memory (03.2009, Barge) RIYL = Scott Tuma, The Fun Years, Ben Frost
I think that the very best new music being produced is often the kind that is near impossible to define. You know, the kind of music that avoids easy categorization and somehow overturns all preconceived notions about what an album should be. Animal Hospital’s Memory is shining example of that kind of album. However, I think I would do it a disservice to stop there - to simply say, “This is some of the best new music I’ve heard and you’ll only understand once you’ve listened to it.” While that statement would be true, it’s just more fun to risk embarrassment by trying to define something that is this good. I think the first and safest way to approach Memory is in terms of Barge. What I mean here, is in terms of the label which has presented this fine recording. The first thing that you should know is that Barge Records does not put simply ‘good music.’ In fact, the label seems to avoid even ‘great music.’ Nope, with only a couple releases seeping out a year, Barge only has time to spend their energy on the very best new music being produced in the realms of forward thinking experimental music. This couldn’t be more evident than in last year’s glorious sophomore release from The Fun Years, Baby, It's Cold Inside. With Memory, Barge has just upped the ante. Animal Hospital is one Kevin Micka and Memory is pretty much the coolest experimental record I’ve heard, probably since that Fun Years record. Micka is a multi-instrumentalist of the highest quality and in the years proceeding Memory has honed his skills in a live setting by playing and looping his instruments into effervescent concoctions that sound like the work produced by a four piece band (and a talented one at that). Memory continues this aesthetic, using a looping pedal at a much more sophisticated level than I’ve heard in the past. However, even with his obvious relationship with loops, Memory provides so much more. The album’s seven tracks range from 2 minutes to 17 minutes in length and in the course of the album’s stretch, make some unexpected turns that extend the realm Animal Hospital’s sound into mythic territory. The opener starts things of peaceful, contemplative and clear with a tinkering music box and crystal guitar lines. This is followed by the epic stroke of “His Belly Burst,” a gorgeous and lengthy track built up Cello work contributed by Jonah Sacks. The work morphs and bleeds into "2nd Anniversary," a transitional track filled with swelling drones that are punctuated by resonant staccato guitar plucks that pierce the atmosphere of the song. All this builds up slowly to the centerpiece of the album, “…and ever.” I almost feel like I should put up a spoiler alert here because it might be better if you were blindsided by this track without being previously tipped off. Consider yourself warned: after laying an elegant foundation, Micka sends Memory in to astral territory. “...and ever” is announced by a thick base line that is quickly layered with a series of guitars and then punctuated by a griffin slaying guitar line that wouldn’t feel out of place on a Boris record. As the structure heaves, Micka’s briefly adds vocals into the mix and then continues to send the structure heavenward. The track continues to build until the building fades into the sky and the clouds become the building and the building becomes the clouds. It is kind of what you would expect to accompany an onslaught led by Zeus or something. As the dust of construction clears, a heart beat emerges along with a clutter of loops and again, that throbbing bass. I don’t know exactly how this here Animal Hospital works, but the entrance of Micka’s wordless vocals and comforting guitar line on “a safe place” makes me feel like the previous destruction/construction was simply the cleansing agent necessary for some poor animals full recovery. Once “Nostalgia” sets in, everything feels perfect and resolved, but this brief beachside sojourn is simply a daydream setting up the final sixteen plus minutes of the title track. I won’t completely destroy the sequencing by revealing the ending, suffice it to say – it is good, really really good. So yeah, there's not a specific defining thread that I can tie the whole thing together with, but Memory is all the better for it. I don’t imagine that there is any other way to move from Scott Tuma to Godspeed! to Mogwai to Boris to Tortoise to The Fun Years and still make a cohesive and wholly individual record. After you hear Memory, it will all make sense. I guess I can only say this: Thank you Animal Hospital and thank you Barge!
The Antlers Hospice (03.2009, self released) RIYL = Jeff Buckley, The Velvet Teen, Have a Nice Life
Hmm, how to do justice to this album? Since the invention of the home-based/portable studio, everyone who has a computer or laptop has had access to the basic tools necessary to make a professional grade recording and it seems like just about everyone has. In this post-Myspace age, who doesn’t have a music profile (or 4)? This influx of recording, while breeding an ever larger group of relevant, talented musicians/artists, has also created a monstrous sea of soulless crap that dwarfs the talent influx 100 fold. Sure, searching for music is much more exciting with the prospect of being the first to stumble upon some genius band (why do we want to "first?"). However, it has become a much more arduous, monotonous prospect having to sift through the trucks loads of not-so-worthy titles that are so liberally touted by the garrulous PR machines as well. It is hard to get through the first three tracks of an album without feeling the like you have to make a decision as to the products worthwhile. I guess that is what these stupid blogs are for, right? I mean, at least that’s what we tell ourselves. So, in an effort to delude myself from the self indulgent reality that is “Forest Gospel,” I offer Hospice as a peace offering. And, oh boy, is this ever a shining example of why we keep listening to all these crappy self produced promos. Hospice is the real deal. What The Antlers have created in this, their 3rd album, is unmitigated beauty. Where most artists, even talented ones, offer only infatuation, The Antlers provide true romance. Where does this all come from? I think the principle culprit is the ultra-emotive vocals. I wanted to avoid this, but there really no reason to: Antlers mastermind and vocalist, Peter Silberman, more than reminds me of Jeff Buckley. It is not so much that Silnerman’s voice sound the same as Buckley’s as it is that his vocals on Hospice carry the same enormous weight as Buckley’s. It is a weird, awesome thing. However, the vocals aren’t the only story – song structure, instrumentation and production all come off pitch perfect. The Antlers have really created an epic aural space for themselves with this album which feels carved out of a mountain. And then there are the lyrics, whose solid narrative pull immediately sinks you into the Hospice like Alice down the rabbit hole, its just that The Antlers rabbit hole is much less whimsical and much more much more affecting. Hospice is simply the complete package. It reminds me of the time when I first realized that there was something beyond the radio, that music was more than some passing pop fixture and that I was doomed to forever enslave myself to its seductive enchantments. Oh, and apparently NPR likes it, so it is possibly all you old fogies can dig this too. :)
-Lil' Thistle
PS, Sassigrass is 8 months and 3 weeks preggers so I’m dedicating the song below to her. Good luck sweety.
Tim Hecker An Imaginary Country (03.2009, Kranky) RIYL = Fennesz, Belong, Axolotl
Tim Hecker is among the forefathers of the second generation ambient tug, and with good reason. The back catalog under his own name and as Jetone is pretty much spotless. I know I didn’t necessarily gush over his 2008 album with Aidan Baker, but you have to understand that Mr. Hecker’s works have to stand up to a much higher standard than most artists of his ilk. And even with that self created standard, Fantasma Parastasie was still good. On An Imaginary Country, Hecker recaptures that slightly loftier grandeur that was missing from Fanatasma. In fact, I think it is heaps better. It is weird, I have already read a couple reviews on this album and people seem to be taking the exact opposite approach on these two releases, lauding the Aidan Baker collaboration and calling An Imaginary Country just ‘pretty good.’ Naw man, this thing absolutely kills it! Sure, Harmony in Ultraviolet is still his current high point, but this new album hits on something pretty close. The glacial heft isn’t quite so hefty, but there is an incredible pop presence here that makes An Imaginary Country perhaps more listenable than anything in his back catalog, and that is a very, very good thing. And in terms of comparison with other granular-ambient elder statesmen, I am liking this much more than Fennesz’s album last year. So much for meaningful reviews huh? “I just like it.” Right… But seriously, I don’t know quite what else to say about the album. It’s all classic Tim Hecker, anchored with a frosty electronic pulse and built with swaths and swaths of warm feedback. One thing to note that I don’t think I have consciously appreciated in his past releases is the thick, muted bass tones that permeate An Imaginary Country. I mean, if you can’t hear the same indefinable spiritual/emotional weight with An Imaginary Country (which you should) you can at least feel that aural weight. Simply put, An Imaginary Country is super solid and endlessly replayable. If you have any inclination towards textured ambient/experimental music, this is a must.
DJ Olive Triage (01.2009, Room 40) RIYL = Keith Fullerton Whitman, Stars of the Lid, The Fun Years
DJ Olive works in epic territory. He has been for some time now and with Triage, the third piece in his sleep triptych (a serious of albums specially made as an ode/aid to sleeplessness), DJ Olive has secured a spot among the ambient elite. For some readers, this may seem like a late assertion, but for little old me, the constant latecomer, Triage is an eye opening, mind expanding experience. Along with being a succulent slab of drone-based dreamscapery, DJ Olive’s latest marks a wonderful accomplishment in being received as an installation in the 2008 Whitney Biennial. I was at the Biennial in 2006 and it was superb, one of the best art experiences of my life, so it is a pretty hefty honor to be chosen as a participating artist. I was just checking the album information and Olive can now name check Mr. Christian Fennesz as well, who assisted in the production on Triage. That is never a bad thing, right? Yeah, definite plus. However, these are just auxiliary talking points - associative buzz. What is really wonderful about Triage surpasses the talking points. The work DJ Olive has put forth here enters another realm, a semi-spiritual space that is equal parts gorgeous and grave. Like his previous entries in the sleep series, Triage embarks on a journey via one lengthy track that clocks in at just under an hour. As a work associated specifically with sleeping, active listening requires patience and results in transcendence. Approaching Triage as an album is kind of like approaching the Pacific ocean (or any ocean for that matter), all you can see is the blue skyline. It’s endless appearance seems daunting. However, once submerged, Triage is anything but monotonous. DJ Olive has come into his own on this one, employing a barrage of vintage effects and utilizing a variety of musicians in order to create a perpetually forward moving animal that is constantly entering new, enchanting areas of sound and space. Sleep seems quite fleeting for me as of late (and even more so for Sassigrass), but even if Triage isn’t aiding my slumber, listening to it is just as rejuvenating as good eight hours of shut eye.
The London Apartments Signals & Cities Are Forever (01.2009, self-released) RIYL = My Bloody Valentine, Sigur Ros, A Place To Bury Strangers
The London Apartments carry some pretty ominous touchstones. As a music reviewer (even an unpaid, independent one) I am contractually obligated to deliver you, the music review reader, with the musical lineage from which this sound has been procured. And, unfortunately, this is going to read as a blanket statement for all meandering shoegazy post-rock played with fuzzy guitars: The London Apartments are descendents of My Bloody Valentine. It’s dumb, but it is true and to add additional weight to the glass ceiling these guys are playing under, there is a measured dose of Sigur Ros in there as well. After listening to Signals & Cities Are Forever, you could have spouted those musical references just as well as I. It is unfortunate, because the necessity of the name-check will virtually obliterate any chances of The London Apartments getting a fresh listen from readers who aren’t particularly fond of those bands or who have heard their plentiful share of knock-offs and derivatives. The unfortunate part of it isn’t that The London Apartments are particularly unique under the umbrella of the mighty MBV, but that as disciples of the guitars-via-static-laden-televisions crowd, The London Apartments are actually quite good at what they do. That may not make them the most relevant of musical innovators, but I assure you that among the hordes of MBV and Sigur Ros aping bands that litter your little iPods, The London Apartments are better. In fact, if all the hype and anticipation for the follow up to Loveless turned into Signals & Cities Are Forever, I wouldn’t be disappointed. The London Apartments aren’t looking to hide their influences, they have them hanging proudly on their sleeves, but the beauty is that they know how to take those influences and learn from them; how to push off and make something new without tainting the glory of their predecessors. For that The London Apartments must be respected, and for that respect the band has actually provided you with an exceptional gift – Signals & Cities Are Forever is available for free on the bands website. Sounds like a gimmick, and usually free albums tend to reveal the reason they cost nothing, but with The London Apartments, this is certainly not the case. Check the link below.
If you are not familiar with Carey Mercer’s frantic, maniacal vocal delivery yet, you’re missing out. Something about the urgency of his street preacher poetry reminds me of the lunatics recorded off the street on old Godspeed You Black Emperor albums. True; Mercer may not be as overtly interested in the destructive wake of capitalism, but he can in no way be accused of being any less impassioned about his subject matter. On Skin of Evil, Mercer’s second solo album under the pseudonym Blackout Beach, the subject matter is a ‘Donna.’ Yeah, the whole album is about this one girl and her relationships. It’s always kind of great to see an artist put out such a focused statement, a piece that stays on track with what it sets out to do and Mercer accomplishes it wonderfully. Sonically, Skin of Evil feels oddly hollow and ominous. The frantic pace of his main gig with Frog Eyes is gone, replaced by an odd mix of electronic beats, walking guitars and vocals on top of vocals backed by additional vocals. It is a little disorienting at first (especially if you have already fallen head over heels for Mercer’s previous works), but on repeated listens Skin of Evil burrows deep under your skin (of Evil!!! Ahem - sorry) propelling you through the record again and again. The thing I am most worried about is that the austerity of Mercer’s theatrics will prove too impenetrable on a listener’s first spin leaving them wandering off to other more easily digestible stables. Please young listener, don’t go! I promise with the weight of all that I have in musical taste as is here documented on this blog that this, Skin of Evil, is not something you would want to handle so lightly. For those willing to go deeper into the woods, to get lost and intentionally disoriented, Skin of Evil will prove an enduring masterpiece. I was only introduced to Mercer through the first Swan Lake’s album (ooh, the new one is so amazing!), then Tears of the Valedictorian, after which I backpedaled into older Frog Eyes territory and I have become a thorough believer of Mercer’s deathly urgent pop sensibilities. Skin of Evil is the last glorious tract in that conversion – So good.
Ribbons Royals (12.2008, Osaka Records) RIYL = good music, Grizzly Bear, Radiohead, Au
You’re going to like Ribbons. Usually albums with such wonderfully designed, colorful album art are covering up for some type of musical lacking, but not Ribbons. No no, Ribbons (aka, one Jherek Bischoff) has created a creative album filled with glib pop innovation. Arriving late last year, Royals has been majorly overlooked by a majority of the indie rock hype engine – and I’m telling ya, Royals is deserving of some hype. This could easily a Best New Music on Pitchfork or 4+ dot on Tiny Mix Tapes. Even a stingy rag like Cokemachineglow (which we love 'em for) should be giving Royals above 80%. It’s a good record. Why is it so good you ask? Pfft, like I can say. I’m not really any good at writing about music, especially pop music (but I do it anyway). However, as pop music, Royals is some of that grade A stuff, the kind that makes you smile rather than yawn. It’s high quality too. Bischoff, the man behind the magic, knows what he is doing. Royals is immaculately produced and filled with some seriously vibrant tones. The vocals are divine and multi tracked to gorgeous harmonic ends remeniscent of Grizzly Bear. Turns our Bischoff is not only an efficient producer and singer, but an apt programmer and a killer multi-instrumentalist. Ribbons succeeds in knowing the breadth and boundaries of its sound and visiting every area within that arena to keep things moving along interestingly. No two tracks are wholly the same, but each works within the framework of 'Royals'as an album. Bischoff rocks some skuzzy, bombastic drum machine loops, some baroque orchestral flourishes and bits of standard indie guitar string work. Each element works toward a composite sketch of what well produced contemporary pop can be and should be. Nowadays, everyone has the tools to make good music, Bischoff simply shows how we all should be using them tools. If your any type of fan of modern indie pop, Royals is a must. I know I made a pact only a couple reviews back to avoid hyperboles and the like in my reviews, but Royals is certainly worthy of any adulation that has slipped past or those present herein. Definitely ranking high on the best albums I missed in 2008. But it is still only like 3 months old, this stuff is fresh and ripe for the picking!
Mark Templeton + aA. Munson Acre Loss (01.2009, Anticipate) RIYL = Geoff Mullen, Colleen, Chihei Hatakeyama
It feels kinda cheap to be reviewing solely the musical side of Acre Loss, a truly collaborative effort between Mark Templeton and aA. Munson. The project was conceived as an artistic melding of visual and audio mediums to be produced as a DVD which is supplemented with a CD of the musical tracks. As such, it only make sense that this thing is coming from Anticipate, who has already spearheaded similar projects seeking to further the marriage between the what we see and what we hear. Templeton is the audio artist here, following up his stunning debut for Anticipate, Standing On A Hummingbird, but Munson probably deserve equal credit for the music (as Templeton does for the visuals) so you’ll have to simply remember that when I reference Templeton, I reference both. Still, standing alone, the musical score for Acre Loss is transcendently gorgeous and obviously cinematic in its scope and grandeur. Unfortunately, lots of music that is currently being made can be described in those terms. The unfortunate part isn’t that there is lots of great music that is utterly beautiful and warm, glacial and imaginative, but that somehow detracts from the fact that Acre Loss is much more than that. Templeton’s work is characterized by luxurious electro-acoustic melodies textured with various electronics and found sounds along the way. It is pretty common place in terms of ambient and drone based records, but Templeton must be just that much more charming than his contemporaries because he is somehow able to coax out platinum and diamonds when everyone else is only able to get gold and crystals. And yeah, gold and crystals are great, but, sheesh, it is nothing compared to what Templeton’s got here with Acre Loss. You know what? Trying to describe just why Templeton’s tones are so good reminds me of trying to describe The Fun Years album from last year. It is just that ‘it’ factor popping up again. Something involving the purity of love with which Acre Loss has been constructed harkens all of the very best in sound sculpture. Templeton may be fairly new in terms of his output, but he is certainly plugging away with the very top tier of what is coming out right now, and what has come out in the last ten years for that matter. Absolutely essential in every respect and from the looks of what I have seen from Munson’s visual work, Acre Loss is sure to be an unparalleled achievement in terms of cross-media collaboration.
Niagara Falls Sequence of Prophets (02.2009, Honeymoon Music) RIYL = Stag Hare, White Rainbow, Cloudland Canyon
The idea of psychedelic music, or at least the use of ‘psychedelic’ as a descriptor when discussing music, is one that is rooted in hallucinogenic properties of drugs. It is at this point I will have to admit that the closest I have come to hallucination through drug use is when I was coming off of the anesthetics after having my wisdom teeth removed. There I was in the car with my mom just kind of going bonkers. It really wasn’t too different from that recent viral video of David After [the] Dentist (“is this real life?”). So yeah, never done any illegal drugs. In fact, I’ve never even been drunk, so I am just going to have to assume that ‘psychedelic’ is the appropriate adjective here when describing Niagara Falls. I’m betting so, because not only is Sequence of Prophets addictive, but it is also a veritable trip mind-wise. Niagara Falls’ sound falls squarely into the more earthy arena of psychedelia, the kind conjuring shaman and mystics and plenty of haze. With that in mind, you won’t find any guitar solos here (though, by the looks of the band photo on the back of this LP, I was kind of expecting some). Nope, Niagara Falls are a credit to they’re pseudonym, creating a thick wash of droning chords that move like a large body of water through a well inhabited forest. If you look closely, you can almost see the natives amongst the woods adding a rhythmic drum patter to the flow of the water. Oh yeah, and could we forget the giant cliff that it’s about to tumble over? On “Flatlands,” the opening track, things start off fluid and serene. But gradual pick up speed and strength with each additional instrument added to the fray. The opener eases you in perfectly to the increasingly dynamic and instrumental sermons written into Sequence of Prophets. The diversity found here isn’t so wide that we’re hittin’ on some hip hop on one end and death metal at another, but in terms of music of this ilk, Niagara Falls provides the added bonus of wading away from the standard monotonous course in effort to create new streams of instrumentation. The icing on the cake is that the whole thing is pressed to wax with a free digital download, so there is really no excuse, is there? Glorious free forest drone magic!
Humcrush Rest At Worlds End (01.2009, Rune Grammofon) RIYL = Supersilent, Elephant9, MoHa!, spaceship synths
Improvisation is sticky territory reserved for only the most adept musicians. At surface level it is both exciting and infuriating. In one sense, you think to yourself: ‘why in the world would I want to listen to someone randomly noodling away on any instrument in order prove some sort of musical dexterity?” It is a fair question, and one that I think applies to a great majority of improvisation. Most people simply are unable to be engaging on the fly. However, for those who are the opposite is true. In the face of shear nothingness, a creative and musically proficient artist can mold nothingness into a mind stretching something that somehow equates to more than any amount of focused composition could. The intrinsic immediacy of the music turns into a vibrant force, adding colour to a previously blank page. The difficulty is avoiding the craftiness of Bob Ross in favor of the ingenuity of Robert Rauschenberg. It’s a thin line, and one all the more beautifully walked when the number of musicians is multiplied (at least when they gel). Humcrush, one of the many talented improvisational acts hailing from the stables of Rune Grammofon, is a duo of drumming maestro Thomas Strønen and keyboard contortionist Ståle Storløkken. Rest At Worlds End is culled from live recordings, however, the clarity is such that this fact is somewhat irrelevant. Incorporating heavy doses of genius on both melodic and percussive fronts, on Rest At Worlds End, Humcrush have signaled themselves as one of the better acts on Rune Grammofon, which, for those who’ve followed the Scandinavian super-label, is quite an impressive achievement. The wonderful thing about this latest record is how Strønen and Storløkken effortlessly transition between brain scrambling instrumental blitzes and soulful, meandering atmospherics. I really can’t get enough of it – lately when I find myself burnt out on everything else on my iPod, Rest At Worlds End is the go-to album to cleanse my palette and rejuvenate my listening patterns.
It’s weird how certain bands collect descriptors. Wavves is a perfect example. You can’t read anything about this guy without reading about sundrenched beaches, surfing or the fact that he’s only 22 [gasp!]. It kind of sucks because now I can’t help but associate him with summer and it is way too cold outside to even start pretending that summer is around the corner. Well, for those of you that are in similarly freezing temperatures we are going to try to avoid those temperate Californian descriptors…mostly. On full length numero dos, not a whole lot has changed. Sure we’ve got an extra ‘v’ to grapple with, but as far as the muddled recording style that has turned Wavves from a ramshackle garage rock project into a ramshackle garage rock project inebriated on a bowl full of Starbursts and three jugs of Sunny Delight, nothings changed. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s great. The even greater part about it is that Wavves continues to prove that he has got a whole bunch more of those 8-bit mega-hooks that sent us adrift on that first record. The combination of Wavves’ simplistic pop genius coupled with his ill-managed feedback somehow conjures late-eighties-to-mid-nineties Saturday morning cartoons. I don’t quite know why. I mean can you imagine how messed up and awesome those toons would be backed by these tunes? Someone mash it up for me on Youtube because I’d like to see it. Wavves cover photo for Wavvves and Wavves probably doesn’t help either. Man skateboarding in the early nineties must have been gnarly. I can only imagine. So there you have it: endless hooks, endless distortion, endless quasi-nostalgia-flashbacks-on-meth, all good. Now if only Wavvves could defrost my windshields when I leave for work…
Here We Go Magic
