2/24: Choose Love or Fear

“Because you know if you play New Kids on the Block albums backwards they sound better. ‘Oh come on, Bill, they’re the New Kids, don’t pick on them, they’re so good and they’re so clean cut and they’re such a good image for the children.’ Fuck that! When did mediocrity and banality become a good image for your children? I want my children to listen to people who fucking ROCKED! I don’t care if they died in puddles of their own vomit! I want someone who plays from his fucking HEART!”

The 26th of this month marks the 15th anniversary of Bill Hicks’ death. At first I thought I could do a tribute show of some kind; my admiration for the guy certainly warrants it. Bill Hicks had a substantial effect on me; after hearing Tool use his comedy for their song “Third Eye,” I went and picked up his records and proceeded to laugh until I cried. I find very few people as funny as Bill and only a handful have the power to put me in good spirits when I feel my worst. I was struck by the double roles he played; he performed as a comedian, but was also like a reporter who had no reason to contain himself or anything he said. He would insult audience members, pick out the most controversial political topics to lambaste, lampoon popular culture, and manage to throw in his fascination with UFOs all while maintaining some strange, but cohesive narrative.  Several comedians have employed his style, some have done so shamelessly, and his various rants have influenced more than a fair share of actors, writers, comedians, and musicians. Every morning I use his “Ladies and gentleman…” introduction to my own end and… I thought it’d be nice to give him and his work some attention considering I take so much from him.

And then I realized that I’d have to censor nearly everything I wanted to play of Bill’s in order to broadcast it on the air. That just didn’t make sense; it goes against the essence of virtually everything the man says. So, instead of a proper tribute, I played my show  just like I do every week and threw out a couple of public service announcements of which Bill might have approved. They’re mild compared to what I would’ve liked to have said and probably sound far too preachy for that very reason. Oh well. I also incorporated a sample from one of his performances in England at the end of the show. With Lent now on the horizon, his comment about love and fear seemed completely appropriate, even if Bill did have some problems with Catholicism and the church.

I hope you enjoy the show. Please take a look at the photos I posted below; they may be blurry but I like them a lot more than the rather bland shots you typically see from concert goers.

I’ll talk to you all next week. Thank you for listening.

DOWNLOAD HOUR 1
DOWNLOAD HOUR 2

01. Nitzer Ebb “Murderous” from That Total Age (1987) on Geffen

02. Front 242 “Headhunter V1.0” from Front by Front (1992) on Epic

03. Skinny Puppy “Worlock” from Rabies (1989) on Nettwerk

04. Phosphorescent “I Gotta Get Drunk” from To Willie (2009) on Dead Oceans

05. Dave Aaronoff & the Protagonists “Dead to me” from Dead Bird for Dinner (2008) on Self Released

06. John Fahey “Eeels” from Sea Changes & Coelacanths (2006) on Table of The Elements — recorded in 1997

07. Melissa St. Pierre “Figure VI / VII / VIII” from Specimens (2008) on Radium

08. Hrvatski “Une Drole de Journee” from Split 7″ Div/orce Series 3 (2005) on Ache

09. Geoff Mullen “Song 6” from Thrtysxtrllnmnfstns (2006) on Entschuldigen

10. Om “Flight of the Eagle” from Conference of the Birds (2006) on Holy Mountain

11. Emeralds “Disappearing Ink” from What Happened (2009) on No Fun Productions

12. Grief “Earthworm” from Alive (2006) on Southern Lord

13. Magic Oneohtrix Point Never “Betrayed in the Octagon” from Betrayed in the Octagon (2007) on Deception Island

14. Jacob Kirkegaard “Al-Lat” from Eldfjall (2005) on Touch

15. Fennesz / Dafeldecker / Brandlmayr “Me Son (Excerpt)” from Till the Old World’s Blown Up and a New One is Created (2008) on Mosz

16. Oren Ambarchi “Bleeding Shadow” from Destinationless Desire (2008) on Touch

Photographs: Zs, Keith Fullerton Whitman + Geoff Mullen, Geoglyphs @ Middle East Upstairs

My digital camera is dying a slow death, but I snagged a few pictures from the Zs/KFW+Geoff Mullen/Geoglyphs/Melissa St. Pierre show at the Middle East Upstairs on the 23rd of February. I didn’t manage to catch Melissa in action, but I have at least a couple of photos from the other sets. Forgive me for hating the use of flash, but I hate the way it makes performers look: stiff and awkward.

Zs were about 15 to 20 minutes of pure intensity – I wish they would’ve played a longer set, but it meant that Geoglyphs and the duo of KFW and Geoff Mullen had plenty of stage time. Geoglyphs is a brand new Boston band with only a few shows under their belt. They play a kind of fusion-jazz and post-rock hybrid with lots of emphasis on rhythm and heavy bass lines. Add some stylized noise like you might expect from Black Dice or Fuck Buttons and you get Geoglyphs; they also had some excellent film projections to accompany their various noises. I was pretty taken by their set. I didn’t expect the heavy rock emphasis for a bill like this, but I look forward to seeing them again

KFW and Geoff played some incredibly dense, ultra-heavy noise based around tons of synth errata, feedback,  tape loops, organ, and God knows what else. For awhile a simple rhythm took center stage and it gave the set a very industrial feel that induced more than just a little head-banging. Keith also pulled some super low end out of his equipment and managed to make the entire upstairs rumble. I could feel it in my stomach and chest.

Melissa St. Pierre’s sound was way too over-driven; it made her music sound a lot sloppier live than it does on CD. Anyways, a few people managed to attempt a dance or two while she was playing, but the music simply didn’t translate well. Her record is very good, but perhaps best suited for at-home play.

Hope you enjoy the photos.

2/17: Brief Update

Sorry for not updating in so long. The only bit of news that I care to talk about right now is Will Oldham’s impending album release and tour and Juana Molina’s performance at the Brattle Theater on Thursday the 26th. As you all know, I’m an appreciator of Oldham’s music. I’ve never had the chance to see him live, however. He’s finally posted a show I can attend. I already have tickets for the Wilbur Theater performance set for May 17th. I’m not sure how quickly these will sell out, but judging by the cult of loyal followers Oldham has unwittingly amassed, getting tickets soon wouldn’t be a bad idea. You can visit the Royal Stable for more information about the new album, the tour, and various appearances Oldham has made in different magazines.

Juana Molina is performing at the Brattle Theater in Cambridge, MA on the 26th. You can see other tour dates for areas closer to you by visiting her (old) website.

ZBCONLINE.COM is now the place to visit if you want to download my show. I’ll keep providing links here, but updates are going to be very infrequent. There’s lots of stuff on my plate at the moment and school is my primary focus for now.

Thanks for stoping by.

DOWNLOAD HOUR 1
DOWNLOAD HOUR 2

01. Scott Walker “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore” from Classics & Collectibles (2005) on Mercury — originally performed by The Walker Brothers in 1966

02. Antony & the Johnsons “Daylight and the Sun” from The Crying Light (2009) on Secretly Canadian

03. Buffalo Springfield “Expecting to Fly” from Buffalo Springfield Again (1967) on Atco — written by Neil Young w/o the rest of the band

04. Tom Waits “Earth Died Screaming” from Bone Machine (1992) on Island

05. Devo “Mongoloid” from Live: Mongoloid Years (1992) on Ryko

06. Birdsongs of The Mesozoic “The Tyger” from Dawn of the Cycads (2008) on Ace Of Hearts — from Magnetic Flip, recorded in 1984

07. Fad Gadget “Speak to Me” from Gag (1984) on Mute

08. Add N to (X) “Kingdom of Shades” from Add Insult to Injury (2000) on Mute

09. Kieran Hebden & Steve Reid “Between B & C” from NYC (2008) on Domino

10. High Places “A Field Guide” from High Places (2008) on Thrill Jockey

11. Bruce Peninsula “Shutters” from A Mountain is a Mouth (2009) on Bruce Trail

12. Songs : Ohia “How To Be Perfect Men” from Axxess & Ace (1999) on Secretly Canadian

13. Alva Noto “u_07” from Untitxt (2008) on Raster-noton

14. Colin Potter & Paul Bradley “Cavity” from Behind Your Very Eyes (2003) on ICR

15. Asad Qizilbash “Raga Piloo” from Asad Qizilbash – Sarod Recital/Live In Peshawar (2008) on Sub Rosa

16. Colin Andrew Sheffield “Surrender” from Signatures (2009) on Invisible Birds

17. Male “I’ll Be Standing Soon (excerpt)” from All Are Welcome (2009) on Other Electricities

18. Juana Molina “Los Hongos de Marosa” from Un Dia (2008) on Domino

02/03: The Form of the Body is Infinite and Shapeless Joy

Rest in peace, Charles Cooper.

Highlights this week include music from lutenist Jozef Van Wissem, new Black Moth Super Rainbow, highlights from the always excellent Raster-noton label, new music from MV & EE, as well as Gregor Samsa, Giuseppe Ielasi, and Telefon Tel Aviv. That Gregor Samsa record will not be available until the second week of March and the Electric Wizard featured was indeed from a bootleg pulled from a radio station whose identity I’ve yet to pin down. Sorry about that, but the record is way out of print, fairly rare, and I haven’t bothered looking to see if anyone’s ripped a better copy or not.

I’ve updated my blog in a number of places. Lots of reviews have been added and I’ve updated information about myself. Interviews are still in the works and I’m now linking directly to the ZBC Archive streams. Remember that all shows are available for two weeks only. After that they disappear. I will not be uploading any shows once they’re going, end of story.

Expect to hear more new music next week; Raster-noton is off to a good start this year and the new Atom TM will likely be featured. I’ve also been listening to a band called Timber Timbre lately and rumors are flying about that new Bonnie “Prince” Billy material (from a live radio session) is floating around on the web. If I can find it, you know I’ll play it.

Thanks for listening.

NOTE: the ZBC Archives automatically index shows by the time they start – you may have to fast forward a minute or two into the MP3 to find the start of the show.

DOWNLOAD HOUR 1
DOWNLOAD HOUR 2

01. Telefon Tel Aviv “Helen of Troy” from Immolate Yourself (2009) on BPitch Control

02. Isan “Serene Driver” from Salle d’Isan (2001) on Morr Music

03. Lali Puna “6-0-3” from Tridecoder (1999) on Morr Music

04. Black Moth Super Rainbow “Feel the Drip” from Don’t You Want to Be in a Cult (2009) on Mexican Summer

05. White Lights “Dassin” from Black Acts (2008) on Smells Like Records

06. Giuseppe Ielasi “03” from Aix (2009) on 12K Records

07. Senking “Bohrer” from List (2007) on Raster-noton

08. Pixel “+40° 11 35.63 -112° 52 31.90” from The Drive (2009) on Raster-noton

09. Tate and Liles “Part 3” from Without Season (2005) on Twenty Hertz

10. Jozef Van Wissem “The Soul Leaves the Body in Eternal Glory” from A Priori (2008) on Incunabulum

11. Liars “Let’s Not Wrestle Mt. Heart Attack” from Drum’s Not Dead (2006) on Mute

12. Electric Wizard “The Processean” from The Processean (2008) on Rise Above Records

13. Rivulets “Get Out Alive” from Debridement (2003) on Chairkickers’ Union

14. MV & EE with the Golden Road “Weatherhead Hollow” from Drone Trailer (2009) on Dicristina Stair

15. I Heart Lung “Interoceans II (Overturning)” from Interoceans (2008) on Asthmatic Kitty Records

16. Gregor Samsa “Young and Old” from Over Air (2009) on The Kora Records

17. Tangerine Dream “Phaedra (Excerpt)” from Phaedra (1987) on Virgin — originally released in 1974

Luasa Raelon, “The House of Flesh”

David Reed’s latest as Luasa Raelon shares more with his Envenomist namesake, filled as it is with lonesome and metallic drones. In The House of Flesh there is no soul and whatever is left in its absence is a bleak and threatening specter.

A grotesque pile of meat adorns the cover to Luasa Raelon’s latest album. This lifeless arrangement of tissue communicates perfectly the various tones and distorted synthetic sounds that populate much of The House of Flesh. Piled one on top of the other, Reed’s machines generate a buzzing mass of atonal filth infused with frigid details. Glacial slabs of sound creak and grate against each other producing an air of emptiness; one would expect some substance beneath their surface, but Reed annihilates anything deeper than the superficial breeze of synthesized sine waves. The music is abrupt and clinical, sometimes sounding incomplete or sterile. This compositional approach is, at times, frustrating, but it produces genuinely desolate music of a frightening quality. Whether or not it is enjoyable is a different question, however, and I’m suspicious of Reed’s intent on this record.

The album is divided into nine distinct cuts. These pieces begin and end as individual songs, but I am inclined to believe that each one was cut from the same extended and unedited work. There are pieces on the record that feature more distinct qualities than others, but none of them play host to any of the defining characteristics that typically set one song or piece apart from another. Songs like “Welcome to the House” and “These Rooms Are Alive” are distinct enough as movements but do not sound to me like whole entities in and of themselves. This amplifies the fragmented, detached nature of the album, but simultaneously disturbs its sometimes pleasant continuity. Among these dead noises there are blissful moments, but perhaps Reed aimed to avoid such pleasantries. Unexpected silences and sudden fades often end these songs, lending credence to the idea that the sequencing was designed to make an uncomfortable record all the more awkward. The House of Flesh can be listened to and appreciated, but that does not make it a pleasant or enjoyable album. It is an odd and unquiet record that squirms with a nervous and unsettling energy and obviates certain customs to which it pretends adherence. Even for Reed this is a strange and inexplicable recording.

Available from Snip Snip Records
Samples at Brainwashed

Zak Riles, “Zak Riles”

Zak Riles’ solo debut on Important forgoes the rock ‘n’ roll of Grails for the sake of more introspective fare. Sitting at a crossroads where psychedelic meditation, classical technique, and foreign intrigue meet, Riles concocts a breathy and sultry record littered with esoteric allusions and familiar ideas.

As a member of Grails, Riles’ guitar exercises often blend the excitement of spaghetti western soundtracks with something more enigmatic. Hints of music from the Middle East and other misunderstood parts of the world illicit a sense of wonder, especially when they’re used effectively by a rock band. It adds a touch of mystery and danger to the music because the imagination of the western listener is still caught up in the fanciful depictions of an exotic culture. Despite years of cultural contact, PBS specials, and Hollywood abuse, the eastern world remains mostly impenetrable. So when Riles elicits that world through references to its religious, popular, and historical music, he simultaneously conjures up an air of the unknown. This kind of aping can be found in all kinds of music and, as bands like Gang Gang Dance have proven, it can be used to hide an embarrassing lack of creativity or ingenuity. For Riles it is one effective tool among many; among the smokey oud passages and gong crashes one will find the familiar and tangible sounds of American psychedelic music and the meandering guitars of the Fahey tradition.

The record follows a distinct arc. It begins out in the open air and descends into dark and foreboding places before re-emerging into daylight at the end. “Pacific Siren” begins with the sampled sound of the beach. The music, once it starts, calls to mind the legend of Blind Joe Death and the simple, sometimes sunny songs to which his talent was attributed. Riles’ guitar rambles to and fro with bright chords on this particular song, the wave-like plucking definitely recalling the sound of the ocean crashing against the beach. This music is firm and grounded to the earth and often reminds me of hot, lazy summers spent staying cool. From there the character of the record changes and punchy rhythms collide with more exotic instrumentation. Moaning violins, a harpsichord, and long, winding electric guitars pass in and out of each other and replace the familiar with something both darker and less earthly. The saz and the oud become the primary instruments during the middle portion of the record and the melodies developed therein become longer and looser. The record takes an epic tone at points, especially when Riles pulls every instrument out of the bag that he can. On “Before the Refuge” tribal drums pound away beneath electric freak-outs and violas hum over sharply curving acoustic passages that sound as though they’re aching to leave the material world.

Eventually the intensity of the record reaches its peak and Riles returns to the place where he started. While “Slack Key” is a partial blend of the two styles that dominate the record, “Chloe” is nearly a complete rock ‘n’ roll song. With the sound of thunder interrupting the song in places, a strummed guitar and an electric solo combine to create a sensation of alleviation. The song’s weightlessness dissolves into the sound of crickets and rain before the record fades out entirely. Given the album’s cinematic progression, it’s tempting to think of Riles’ work as a cinematic accompaniment, but the record is complete unto itself and works towards its own end. That end may not necessarily be transcendent in intent, but the upwards trajectory of the album’s second half does call to mind the religiously centered themes of Popul Vuh and other similar bands. The addition of American folk music to the transcendent recipe is not a new idea (Robbie Basho was thinking about this in the mid ’60s), but Riles incorporates it in his own unique manner and helps to affirm its potency outside the realm of academic appreciation and nostalgia.

Available on Important Records
Samples at Brainwashed

Fire on Fire, “The Orchard”

The promise of Fire on Fire’s debut EP on Young God is easily met by their dream-like, somnambulistic follow-up. Less extravagant and aggressive than their previous effort, this Portland Maine-based quintet showcases their softer side with rich and mellow songwriting cut through by pining voices and twang-scored harmonies.

When I heard Fire on Fire’s “Amnesia” (from their EP), I was won over by the psychedelic madness that boiled beneath the song’s tuneful hook and bizarre lyrics. The band manifested a crazed energy within the confines of their nuanced songwriting and constantly teetered on the brink of chaos. The Orchard sees the band relaxing and focusing their energy on softer tunes and strengthening their songwriting core. With nothing but acoustic instruments at their disposal, the group recalls the spirit of America’s early musical tradition by emphasizing strong lyrical topics and melody-heavy songs. Drunken and haphazard frills decorate the record and keep many of the songs from sinking into pure genre worship. This is not slick, romantic Appalachia; Fire on Fire are rugged and lively musicians who emphasize lurching movements and uneven steps.

The album begins with “Sirocco,” perhaps the most rock-like song of the 12 featured on the album. The name comes from the high velocity winds that blow out of the Sahara and pelt France, Italy, and Greece across the Mediterranean. This hurricane-strength wind can disable machinery and invade homes as it blows north and dissipates. “Sirocco” takes its namesake seriously and functions as the album’s vital genesis; it is far and away the most energetic song on the album and it propels the record forward with a haphazard bang. Reveling in fragility and decay, the band boldly announce their purpose: “If we tear this kingdom down / Tear it down / Let it be with a deserving and joyous sound.” To this end, Fire on Fire employ rambling banjos, scruffy yelps, soothing harmonies, and the familiar sounds of the strummed guitar. They add quirky lyrics, unexpected twists, and exotic nuances to facilitate a hallucinatory sound. Some songs play out in prismatic shifts with uneasy contrasts and others resemble traditional American folk songs as imagined by The Byrds, but at no point does the group allow their songs to fall into an easily definable space. One of the album’s highlights, “Toknight,” is an almost-believable country/pop hybrid from the late ’60s or early ’70s. The song’s heavy down-beat, plodding rhythm, huge chorus, and subject matter are all drawn from country and rock roots, but I doubt anyone would confuse Fire on Fire with Gram Parsons. Gypsy music seems an equal part of the band’s formula, though that may only be an effect of the accordion’s prominent position in many of the songs. The band’s approach to performance is grounded in a familiar and well-established tradition, but their vision of American music isn’t purely historical nor is it purely American.

In fact, an other-worldly quality permeates The Orchard from top to bottom. Collenen Kinsella’s voice is a particularly sharp and effective part of the band’s sound; her unusual abilities add an absolutely invaluable dimension to the band’s timbre and provides some of the stranger songs their strangest edges. It is the use of unusual vocal harmonies and textures that gives many of these songs their unusual character. The vocal performances bare a tribal and spontaneous quality that alters the nature of the music being played and ultimately forms the heart of the record. In any case, Fire on Fire’s music is an inventive take on old music; they’ve adhered to a simple premise and thankfully managed to strike new ground without venturing too far into “freak folk” territory. This is undeniably American music, but with Fire on Fire’s distinct and eccentric signature.

Available on Young God Records
Samples at Brainwashed

Have a Nice Life, “Deathconsciousness”

Tim Macuga and Dan Barrett’s musical project is as much an ambitious and frustrating piece of conceptual art as it is a crushing and soaring rock record. Composed over a five year period, Deathconsciousness was produced with only the most basic equipment, is accompanied by a 70 page booklet describing a dead religion, and features cover art ripped right from Jacques-Louis David’s overtly political masterpiece, La Mort de Marat. The music is excellent, but making sense of the rest of this monstrosity isn’t easy.

Organized as two distinct albums, Deathconsciousness is a sprawling record filled with suggestive lyrics about desperation, nihilism, failure, suffering, and the inescapable progress of time. The lyrics are not poetic nor are they sophisticated, but they aren’t angst-ridden contrivances, either and they suit the macabre nature of the music very well. The music itself is filled with sizzling guitars, massive and repetitive rhythms, echoing synthesizer effects, and dramatic melodies, both vigilant and resigned, that give the album an epic scope. Yet, despite all these severe devices, the band’s name is Have a Nice Life and they title their songs like they’re jokes: “Waiting for Black Metal Records to Come in the Mail” and “Holy Fucking Shit: 40,000″ are perfect examples. In addition to these odd contrasts, the band has gone through the trouble of producing a 70 page accompanying book supposedly written by a professor of religious anthropology and history at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. Whether or not the book has anything to do with the album is questionable; while direct lines can be drawn between the text in the book and the lyrics to some of the songs, it isn’t clear which of the two came first. I am suspicious that the book could be a ruse meant to cover up the fact that all of these songs are intensely personal, but the lengths to which this duo went to cover that fact up is fairly astonishing. A lot of work clearly went into putting this whole thing together, but figuring out how all the pieces fit is more difficult than it should be.

Despite the mixed messages the liner notes inspire, the music is varied, smart, and wonderfully dark. Have a Nice Life combine the brute force of thundering drums with hazy, fuzzed out guitar lines, lead melodies played out on the bass, and emotive, almost yearning vocals. They protract the basic rock template and add a healthy dose of atmospheric sound effects and synthesizer leads not unlike those you’d expect to hear from an anthemic 80s opus. Bits of staccato guitar meet with noise solos, buried vocal mumblings, persistent percussion, and lo-fi stereo confusion to produce everything from meditative non-songs (“Hunter”) to feverish rock ‘n’ roll (“Waiting for Black Metal Records…”) and acoustic balladry with cheap drum loops (“Holy Fucking Shit: 40,000″). The group will often focus on texture more than melody, but never at the expense of a strong melodic center. Their voices are often anxious and thirsty, maybe even overly emotive, but the intensity of their deliveries matches the music’s fevered pitch perfectly. The production can be mildly aggravating, however, and sometimes it detracts from the strong melodies and lyrics more than it should. But on the whole the under-produced aesthetic works perfectly for the music.

There are several details that keep the album from being a complete success, however. Whoever wrote that 70 page document needs to be slapped for being too dull, too often. The book focuses on the history of a fictional religious sect centered around the person of Antiochus. This sect apparently left behind a number of oral and written fragments that tell the story of a horrifying prophet who praised nihilism and preached a philosophy of suicide and murder. At first the book is ponderous and seems completely unnecessary, but reading it while listening to the album proved to be exciting at times. Some of the stories in the book are genuinely frightening and left an impression on me, but the pseudo-academic posturing that makes up the majority of the book is absolutely unnecessary. Long foot-notes, poor poetry, and efforts to sound professional all end up making the book a trial more than a joy. Also, the aforementioned song titles may seem like a small thing to complain about, but if a group is going to go through the effort to create an illusion of mysticism and mystery, then they might as well follow through on even the smallest details. As it stands, I get the impression the band were unwilling to follow their idea all the way through to its conclusion. Nevertheless, the music keeps me coming back and the entirety of the project succeeds often enough to warrant attention and praise. I am ultimately picking apart something to which I am very drawn. I just want the band to keep falling down that rabbit hole instead of holding back.

Deathconsciousness is available online through Enemies List as an MP3 download only. All the physical copies have been sold, but the label charges a very low price for the download and have scanned the entire booklet into a nice PDF file, which is included with the purchase.

Available on Enemies List
Samples at Brainwashed

Terminal Sound System, “Constructing Towers”

Operating within and between the rather loose conventions that dominate electronic and rock music, Skye Klein continues to map out a musical style capable of putting equal emphasis on every genre it employs.

Klein’s latest musical venture showcases an unevenness that was less evident on Compressor, released last year on Extreme. On that album, Terminal Sound System sounded like a project dedicated to giving rhythm and timbre their time in the sun. Though many of the songs featured no strong melody, themes and hooks were still developed through the smart use of texture and atmosphere. I liked that album despite its flaws: Klein was clearly looking to restructure drum ‘n’ bass and employ its strengths in new environments. It was also unremittingly dark and brooding and filled to the brim with rumbling and exaggerated beats. That coherency explains why Constructing Towers comes as such a shock to me. Klein’s purpose isn’t nearly as clear on this album and his modus operandi is frustratingly scattered. Seemingly at odds with himself, Klein utilizes both familiar and idiosyncratic techniques to form a patchwork album that features camp, aggression, and trepidation in equal doses.

“In Your Planet” is a barnburner of an introduction. With an epic organ part, a flurry of brushed percussion, and a massive low-end, the song boils and recedes in a succession of tense and meditative moments. Texture is still Klein’s strong point, but melodies are more prominent on this record from the get go. Light pianos and bass pulses exchange melodic duties with reversed synthesizer effects and orchestral crescendos, all of which lend the album a strong immediacy. This immediacy continues throughout the record, but in wildly different ways. “Constructing Towers” features a muffled vocal performance and the kind of drum breaks you might remember from Luke Vibert’s various releases or from the odd Venetian Snares’ song. Not content to reproduce good drum ‘n’ bass, Klein inserts wah-wah pedals into “Year of the Pig” and tempers the whole thing with bright keyboards; the song is jumpy and unpredictable, but everything still feels tightly connected at this point. When “Alaska” comes on, I feel like the ground is pulled out from under my feet and the whole album is set adrift. Suddenly Angelo Badalamenti joins the band, rock ‘n’ roll guitars become part of Klein’s vocabulary, and the mood developed over the first three tracks is eschewed in favor of something completely different.

Just like Compressor, much of Constructing Towers is haphazard; the first three songs sound like they belong on an EP together, “Alaska” belongs in a world all its own, and everything afterwards feels like a coherent statement, but from a project quite different than Terminal Sound System. The acid-tinged electronica and jazz-like influences showcased on the second half of the album feel far more cinematic than the first half and demonstrate Klein’s ability to warp and bend familiar sounds and conventions. The second half of the record is also a far more relaxed affair than the first half thanks to the low, cool horns and vibraphones that dominate it. In trying to blend so many influences and ideas, Klein went a bit off the deep end and forgot where he was going once he started. He ends up in some interesting places and with beautiful results, but he does in a haphazard and confusing way. Constructing Towers is a dark, beautiful record with several moments of brilliance (the walking bass line on “Duchamp Falls” comes unexpectedly, but works perfectly), but it is uneven both conceptually and stylistically.

Available on Extreme Records
Samples at Brainwashed

Richard Pinhas and Merzbow, “Keio Line”

Masami Akita sounds his most creative, dynamic, and colorful when he works with other accomplished musicians. Merzbow’s collaboration with French pioneer Richard Pinhas features some of his best music and gleefully amplifies the psychedelic tendencies of both composers.

Hearing Keio Line for the first time engendered the same excitement in me that Sleeper Awakes on the Edge of the Abyss did. That album, co-authored with H.N.A.S. and Mirror veteran Christoph Heemann, witnessed Akita’s onslaught of noise mayhem tempered by Heemann’s less destructive tendencies. The result was a finely tuned album of abstract noise that revered moments of muted beauty as much as chaotic splendor. Pinhas and Akita have accomplished the same thing on this double-CD, albeit in a completely different manner.

Though not without its more damaged moments, Keio Line is a beautifully quiet and streamlined record boiling over with harmonic and melodic streams of noise. Pinhas’ penchant for ambient composition and Fripp-esque guitar takes center stage throughout the record with heavily processed strings and analog synthesizers dominating a supporting cast of varied and mashed instruments. There is no doubt that Pinhas took the lead role on this album. At times the instrumentation is surprisingly naked; the typically wrecked sounds found in Merzbow’s vocabulary are laid wide open and exposed for the listener to enjoy. Clear solos thus emerge from layers of confused drum machines and cascading feedback, providing a far more musical dimension than I am used to hearing on a Merzbow record. This added dimension is a boon and one that I hope Akita utilizes on more of his records. With melody and psychedelic bits of ruined machine music complimenting the junk-box destruction most associated with Merzbow, 26-minute songs become approachable entities that command repeated listening. All of Akita’s more colorful tendencies emerge very clearly on Keio Line and sync up with Pinhas’ aesthetic choices incredibly well. I don’t mean to argue that the more typical Merzbow album doesn’t require deep listening, but Keio Line is more welcoming and rewarding than the sometimes flat nature of Merzbow’s pure noise assault.

There are moments of all-out war on Keio Line, too; this isn’t anything like an ambient or less potent Merzbow. On the contrary, all the added dynamism provided by Richard Pinhas makes Merzbow seem more potent and exhilarating. “Fuck the Power (and Fuck Global Players)” is filled with hissing vitriol and rumbling low end, but it’s tempered by a never ending ribbon of shuffling paper ruckus and undulating harmonic moans. The interaction of these elements is breathtaking at times. That interaction is also the reason this album has kept my attention for so long. By providing an extra layer of intrigue to the familiar and freeform aesthetic of noise, Pinhas and Merzbow have crafted a shining highlight in Merzbow’s ever-growing catalog. It is a clear example of Pinhas’ compositional and technical ability and, simply put, one of my favorite Merzbow-related records.

Available on Cuneiform Records
Samples at Brainwashed