LUCE, ED Wuvable Oaf #0 (Goat Blud Comics) comic 3.95
We don't sell a lot of comic books here, although maybe we should as a bunch of us are way into comics. Goon, Hellboy, B.P.R.D., The Walking Dead, Preacher, Y, Exterminators, we're almost as nerdy about comics as we are about music. And once in a while a comic comes along, that just hits the spot. Not about a superhero, not a super extended narrative, not violent or bloody, just goofy, funny, fun and bizarre. And since we figured that some of the music nerds who read our list also dig comics, so well, what the heck...
The comic in question is the cutely titled Wuvable Oaf. The story of a huge hairy bear man, who spends a good amount of his time naked, or at least shirtless. And is constantly surrounded by his pals, and lots and lots of kitties. There's plenty of goofy dancing, man love, saucy almost sex, penis shaped birthday cakes, high fashion, reality TV, feline birthing, and an art punk band called Ejaculoid. You don't need to be into big hairy dudes to dig the comic, but you should at least be into kitties, and into some super awesomely detailed artwork. The hair factor alone is amazing, it must have taken months to illustrate Oaf, let alone his equally hirsute pals. The comic is not heavy on story, the vignettes are brief and fleeting and funny, but it's all about the art. Intricate and complex, incredible detail, the panel that shows a Victorian with the Twin Peaks antenna tower in the background is perfect right down to the defaced poster on the building next door. And did we mention the HAIR! So much hair, torsos, arms, faces, shaved and on the floor, it's everywhere! 
Anyway, check it out, locals will probably recognize some of the characters as they are modeled after real folks, one in particular is a long time aQ pal and sometime list contributor. They have amazing shirts too, which you might see AQ staffers sporting once in a while. You can read and see more here: http://www.wuvableoaf.com/
Oaf, his pals and his kitties get a big wuvable thumbs up fom aQ!

BLUE MOUNTAIN Dog Days (Roadrunner) cd 16.98
Back in the nineties, for a while there, it was all about No Depression. Or Alt-country, or perhaps the worst genre identifier ever, Y'alternative. Painful to even type. Whatever you call it, modern country folks bands were everywhere, born of a love of punk rock, and classic country, blue grass and indie rock. THE No Depression band was of course Uncle Tupelo, who would go on to spawn Wilco and Son Volt, but back in the day, Uncle Tupelo were the shit, heavy and super rocking, raucous and wild, but always with plenty of twang and able to strip down to straight bluegrass at the drop of a hat. Their album No Depression is where the genre got its name (and that record of course was named for the Carter Family song), and Uncle Tupelo and their record, and the legion of bands that followed in their wake even inspired a magazine covering all the various No Depression bands. Richard Buckner, Whiskeytown (featuring Ryan Adams), Freakwater, Old 97's, Bad Livers, Jayhawks, Waco Brothers, Scud Mountain Boys, Pernice Brothers, Robbie Fulks,  Pine Valley Cosmonauts, Handsome Family, the Sadies, Tarnation, Be Good Tanyas, Split Lip Rayfield... We could go on and on, many of those bands continue to play today, a bunch broke up but various members went on to record on their own. Then there was Blue Mountain, a band that had brief flirtations with success, but seemed to continually hover just shy of the mainstream, which is a huge shame, as they were (and are, as far as we know) just as good as any of those other bands, if not better. 
Fronted by the husband and wife duo of Cary Hudson and Laurie Stirratt, Blue Mountain hewed sonically close to the No Depression blueprint created by Uncle Tupelo, that killer mix of crunchy guitars and classic twang, but where UT came from a much more punk rock background, Blue Mountain seemed to be much more purebred country. Hudson and Stirratt's vocals sounded perfect together, amazing harmonies, crunchy guitars, incredible hooks. Blue Mountain's first proper record, 1995's Dog Days, still ranks as one of the best record of the whole No Depression era. Some of the songs were dark and brooding and heavy, others were twangy and acoustic, folky and almost straight bluegrass, most were a mix of the two. But like always it was all about the songs, and the songs here are fantastic, totally catchy and timeless, and on top of the killer songs, Hudson has one of the best rock voices since Jay Farrar. Listen to the sound samples. If you dig Uncle Tupelo and any of the above mentioned bands, odds are you're gonna dig this. Definitely sounds as good as it did in 1995. 
The reissue tacks on a whole mess of bonus tracks, new liner notes, extra photos, and comes housed in a slipcase.
MPEG Stream: "Mountain Girl"
MPEG Stream: "Let's Ride"
MPEG Stream: "Blue Canoe"

NADJA Truth Becomes Death (Conspiracy) lp 37.00
Latest in Conspiracy's series of super deluxe vinyl Nadja reissues, this latest one the lp of a former Record Of The Week, our very first Nadja and still one of our top faves. The music is fantastic of course (keep reading), but like the other Nadja vinyl reissues, the packaging is spectacular. Housed in an embossed, diecut jacket, with printed thick full color inner sleeves, visible through the diecut, photos by Seldon Hunt, the vinyl thick as well, weights a ton and sounds amazing. Limited to only 750 copies, and there's an amazing forestscape etching on the fourth side too!! Super limited of course, so not sure if we can get more when we run out), and super expensive, but so worth it.
Here's what we said about the record when it was ROTW back on list 226:
Crashing waves of balls of yarn. That's one attempt to explain this band's sound... Along with bringing in the usual Earth, SUNNO))), and Boris comparisons. The Toronto based duo of Aidan Baker (guitars, vocals, flute, piano, drum machines) and Leah Buckareff (bass and vocals) are an "atmospheric doom" band whose slow moving, heavy and heavily distorted music definitely shares something with the likes of early Earth, but although they've done a split 3" with UK doom nasties Moss (among several previous underground releases) you can't really define them as being a "metal" band at all. Their gauzy, droney, doom-spelled-backwards music has a warm, melodic underpinning, somewhere within the billowing clouds of distortion that form the three long tracks found here. I guess it's something like the churchy, "funereal" doom of Finland's Skepticism, really, but even more calm, echoed and ambient. Melancholic but very pleasant, with both growled vocals and gentle singing hovering just beneath the surface, this music somehow suggests rays of pure white light shining down from on high to illuminate their low-end murk... and during the final third of the last track "Breakpoint" the heaviness drops away altogether for a quietly sung coda that could be from the most mellow and poetic of indie-pop albums. Nadja's music is definitely more abstract and altered than, say, Ocean (another sludge-dirge outfit reviewed elsewhere this list), and is so much more beautiful than the monochrome darkness dwelt in by many other doom bands. If you can imagine an ultra-distorted hybrid of Growing, Codeine and, uh, Ras Algethi you'd maybe come close to the sound of Nadja... Recommended!!
MPEG Stream: "Bug / Golem"
MPEG Stream: "Breakpoint"

URFAUST Drei Rituale Jenseits Des Kosmos (Debemur Morti Productions) cd ep 15.98
The world has been dying for more Urfaust, well, at least out little freaky blackened damaged corner of the world. We couldn't get enough of these guys, their creepy lurching Burzumy metal, totally freaked out super dramatic depressive stumbling blackness, the insane shrieked Ethel Merman like vocals, the bellowed deep crooning, the majestic mournful vocals, a sound so completely insane, but so totally amazing and irresistible. As pretty much all of their recordings have been totally unavailable for a while now, we've been unable to turn new folks on to these guys, which is a shame, since people in search of stuff both baffling and beautiful, heavy and confusing, mysterious and incredibly idiosyncratic, couldn't do much better than Urfaust. And those of us who had played their recordings to death, were in dire need of more more more!
So here we have it. More. Not much more, only three tracks, but they're long-ish, and more than enough to hold us over. And even at a mere 20 minutes in length, it's almost more than we could have ever hoped for. All of the elements we so loved about Urfaust are present and in full effect, but somehow the band have managed to make their sound even weirder, more fucked up, and somehow also more haunting and beautiful, without losing any of the total what the fuck factor. The opening track begins with some stripped down almost industrial rhythm, over whirring machine like sounds, before the main riff comes in, but instead of sounding like a guitar, it's almost like an organ, wheezing out a minor key melody, jarringly working it's way through each note, while over the top, the vocals are even more shrieky and haunting. The 'riffing' shifts to washed out warble, sounding almost like it was assembled from dusty old looped records. The drums are super distorted, and mechanical, and perfectly balance the washed out main melody and the reverb drenched shrieks, which are later joined by deep growly crooning. But the bridge to the song is so pretty, and so turntable-y sounding. It's a bit hard to explain, but it does sound like a Jeck, or Tim Hecker loop, worked into an almost-riff. Whatever it is and however they did it, it sounds amazing, creepy, mysterious, and so gloriously bizarre and beautiful.
The second track has the same sort  of wooden rhythm, but over it soars a strange machinelike high pitched buzz, a gnarled feedbacky guitar, that buzzes and warbles, the vocals a more punky yowl, buried way down in the mix. Super intense, and relentless, with that main buzz/squall running through the whole song, almost like a depressive black metal, noise rock mash up, but deftly twisted into Urfaust's strange stumbly sound. The close begins with blurred and indistinct voices, swirling in a stretch rife with reverb and delay and distortion, everything creepy and blurred, until the guitars come in, or at least they sound like guitars, sort of. Much like the first track, they sound almost like keyboards, or weird loops, assembled into strange depressive lurchings, The sound is murky and muddy, the drums buried, the vocals too, everything wreathed in some sort of effect, the main melody and riff swaying seasickly, swelling drunkenly, the vocals growing gradually in intensity, to a banshee like howl, a drunken sounding croon, before fading away again, leaving that main melody to buzz and throb, the vocals becoming a growling drone barely audible, the track woozily wavering and finally fading to black. So creepy and pretty, and unlike any Urfaust that came before, but somehow practically perfect. Another absolutely genius slab of bizarre blackness. But sadly, three songs is not nearly enough, as these are bound to get played to death, over and over and over as we wait for moreŠ
MPEG Stream: "Untitled I"
MPEG Stream: "Untitled II"

BLECTUM, BLEVIN Gular Flutter (Aagoo) cd 11.98
There's a certain kind of electronic music we used to love that seems to have gone M.I.A. lately. That kind of off kilter abstract experimentalism that seemed to be an offshoot of IDM, like IDM's deformed younger sibling that was kept locked up in the basement, thankfully with a full complement of recording gear and electronics. Lesser was one of our favorites. And at times, so too were Blectum From Blechdom. A motley crew who sort of skirted the 'mainstream' creating their own sound, their own scene, taking the electronic music of the day and twisting it all up. While Lesser seemed to do no wrong, or if he did wrong, it was so gloriously wrong it was right, BfB were a bit more hit and miss. The two personalities pulling in two distinctly different directions. And to be honest, we much preferred Blevin's trajectory to Kevin's. As later records demonstrated, Kevin leaned more toward the bratty and puerile, a much more Chicks On Speed vibe, mixing Karaoke with damaged versions of commercial pop, while Blevin (aka Bevin) was much more academic, and experimental, with an ear for texture and rhythm not that far removed from her hubby Lesser. 
Apparently the two have reunited and are once again a going concern, but more immediately, Blevin has finally released a new solo record, the first in 4 years, and it's pretty damn great. And actually, the fact that the opening track is a cover of a song by the mysterious Reverend Fred Lane just blows our minds. We've been trying to track Lane down to reissue his long out of print Shimmy Disc records, some of the most twisted genius EVER. And BB's version is equally twisted, but in a whole different way. Lots of rhythmic skitter, thick throbbing bass, she sings too but here voice is twisted and processed into strange stutters and streaks, the whole thing has a weirdly prog feel, a bit like a damaged Squarepusher covering some obscure lost seventies prog rarity, but all chopped up and reassembled. It definitely doesn't sound that much like the original, but the concept! And the sound. Fucking awesome. The rest of the record holds up pretty well considering there are no more Fred Lane covers, "Cygnet" with its snippets of soaring strings layered over dark meandering beats and ominous whirring ambience, "Foyer Fire", a glitchy, hiss, static flecked 8-bit carnival jam, each track is totally unique but manages to link to the sounds before and after seamlessly, from chaotic cut and paste, to woozy backwards warble, to hiccupping warbly fractured jungle, to blissed out smears of skitter and flutter, reminding us quite a bit of a more subdued (slightly) and less caffeinated Stock, Hausen And Walkman. 
The record finishes off with the truly haunting closer "Avian Enamel", with its chopped and processed harmonies, muted rhythmic thump, mysterious voices, weirdly groovy beats, all peppered with little flurries of glitch and crackle, buried samples, woozy loops, everything smoothed out into a drone-y beatscape both moody and mesmerizing. A fine return for sure. Now if we can just tempt Lesser out of hiding...
MPEG Stream: "Real Live Escargot"
MPEG Stream: "Cygnet"
MPEG Stream: "Foyer Fire"

GRIDLINK Amber Gray (Hydra Head) cd ep 14.98
We've said it before and we'll say it again, but oh how are grindcore hearts were broken when Discordance Axis called it a day. Sure there were plenty of grind bands, but few were able to capture the magic, and conjure the sort of grind metal magic those guys could. Even the briefest songs were jammed with intricate rhythms, and incredible melodies, so impossibly fast and furious, but catchy as fuck. Various Disc Ax members went on to do other things, most notably drum god Dave Witte, but even with him behind the kit, none of the post-Disc Ax bands pulled it off in quite the same way. Until recently. Until vocalist Jon Chang joined the living, returning with his insane Japanese hyper metal outfit, Hayaino Daisuki, who melded the techgrind of DA with total over the top power metal. Seems like a bad idea, but au contraire, we hadn't heard anything that fresh, that fucked up and gloriously heavy in forever. So here we are with another of Chang's new bands, one that has been in the works seemingly since the death of DA, seeing as there was a Gridlink track on that posthumous DA collection that came out way back in 2005. Even then we were thrilled at how much Gridlink seemed to channel the sound of DA, they seemed to be THE band poised to carry on Discordance's art-grind torch, but then nothing. For three years. But now. Shit. We feel silly saying it was worth waiting three years for 11 minutes of music, but the more we listen to this the more we're convinced it actually was. 
This is mindblowing. So heavy and insanely fast, so complex and furious, more than 12 minutes would probably kill you. Or maybe not, as we've been listening to this on repeat nonstop. Beyond just being brutal and lightning fast, it's also insanely dynamic, and so catchy, little squalls of grinding metallic mayhem offer up unlikely harmonies, killer hooks, some Maidenish guitar parts, Chang's vocals a hysterical banshee like shriek. And actually, Gridlink does seem to be the sonic link between Discordance and Hayaino, the over power metalisms of Hayaino tempered into something much less over the top, and the obtuse artiness of DA reigned in a bit, both sounds forced into one swirling sparks-spitting white hot ball of mind melting metallic art grind genius. So recommended. As is setting your cd on repeat and listening to this 5 or 6 times at each sitting!
MPEG Stream: "Amber Gray"
MPEG Stream: "3 Miles Below Sea Level"
MPEG Stream: "The Jenova"

NJIQAHDDA Nji. Njiijn. Njiiijn. (E.E.E. Recordings) cd 12.98
First actual, non cd-r, cd release from this mysterious one man ambient doomy un-black metal band. Like all of the EEE and related bands, Njiqahdda are tough to describe, black metal is the source and the root of their sound, but what is done to that sound, how it is twisted and processed and effected, the arrangement, the production, the recording, are all as important to the sound as the sound itself.
Like the last Njiqahdda record, this one is all about repetition, the riffs and parts looped over and over, the drums locked into rhythms that often stretch the length of the song barely wavering. But like that record, the sound here is fantastic, alien - sure there's the requisite buzz and blast, the distortion and growled guttural vox, but they are twisted into truly strange shapes. The guitar, the main riff, is blurred and murky, turned into a throbbing pulsing drone as much as an actual riff, occasionally stripped down to an almost indie rock like jangle. The drums, programmed and machinelike, offer up a framework for the various elements to hang on, the vocals too are heavily effected, a blown out howl, that sometimes transforms into what sounds like radio interference. And like most tracks, there is always one element that makes everything else seem downright normal, here it's the cymbals, which stutter and hiccup, like they're super processed, or perhaps they're just recorded so hot, that they cause the tape heads to malfunction, either way, it sounds amazing, and sort of like some blackened Chain Reaction record. So for half of the first track's 16 minutes, these elements loop and shift sucking the listener in, mesmerizing with its trancelike groove. At which point the track pauses, before relaunching, this time with thick streaks of distorted melody, and soaring sort-of-leads, blown out Nadja-like majesty, before the distortion and buzz is pulled back, revealing the murky strummy underbelly of the song, leaving just drums and jangly guitar, and a layer of distorted hiss, peppered with weird percussive throbs and dropouts, which only add to the track's weirdness.
And so goes the rest of the record. Loooooong tracks. The riffing so hot and blown out and in the red, that the various distortions and crumbling tape hiss, add a whole other element to the sound. The drums buried in the mix, the cymbals acidic and hissy, sometimes washing out all the sounds around it, other times bathing the main riff in a shower of sizzle, the guitars white hot, slipping from blinding and effulgent to blackened and falling to pieces, what sounds like keyboards, smeared streaks of buzz and drone, deep fuzzy bass, harsh vokills, all the various elements going through various stages of distortion and decomposition, doused in effects and processing, recorded in such a way, that they often don't sound like guitars, or drums, or vocals at all. Each song a series of blackened riffy drones, long stretches of clean shimmer, of lilting jangle, of stumbling dizzying abstraction, even longer stretches of looped mesmerizing buzz, but always run through with lilting melodies, buried hooks, subtly catchy, blissed out and black. A record as much about riffs and beats as it is about sound and timbre, texture and mood, a dreamy blissy blackened dronescape of buzz, blur, loop rhythm and ambience, twisting its unblackness into something haunting and hypnotic and unforgettable.
MPEG Stream: "Nortii Maatu"
MPEG Stream: "Aasklamatii Ligmett Aursag"

QUEST FOR BLOOD s/t (Ektro) cd 14.98
It may be difficult to believe at this point, but we don't actually love everything from Finland. Nor do we love everything from Japan. And what might be equally hard to believe, is that we don't love every band with a crazy name, a monicker equal parts ridiculousness and ultraviolence, Lord Of The Rings and Star Wars, medieval and futuristic. Nor does the presence of flute supersede all other sonic considerations. And being chaotic and damaged and heavy and downright baffling is not, on its own, enough (although it's very very close).
But, and this is the very big BUT we must concern ourselves with here, we do love EVERY SINGLE band we've heard who hail from Japan, via Finland, with an awesomely over the top super metal name, who are heavy and noisy and mathy and fucked up and sort of black metal, and have tons and tons of FLUTE. But then again, there's only one band that fits that description. Japan's Quest For Blood. Released on Jussi from Circle's Ektro label, championed by Reverend Bizarre's Albert Witchfinder (who also did the artwork and wrote the band's bio on the Ektro website), who create a dizzying complex bombast of proggy heaviness, of complex arrangements, of blackened metallic majesty, all gnarled riffing, furious drumming, riffy and groovy and buzzy, and flute everywhere, and it's the flute that defines the sound of Quest For Blood, whose sound is both metal and some sort of jazz, equally composed and abstract, black and buzzy, epic and deliriously dense, heavy yet folky and free. Quest For Blood began life as a slightly more traditional black metal band called Magane, but after a chance meeting with Yukihiro Isso, who had in the past played with Tatsuya Yoshida and Keiji Haino, the band changed direction, and blossomed into something else entirely, creating a sound never really heard before, and a sound that we now realize is one we had been fantasizing about for ages, black metal, Japanese folk, wild free flute, blast beats, weird chanted vocals, well, okay, we -would- have fantasized about it, had we ever imagined a band like that could actually exist. Well...
If you're anything like us, you'll be hooked after the first track, which begins with what sounds like Jew's harp and marimba, before launching into some blackened post metal riffing, over which a flute flutters and soars over the top, at once intense and melodic, but also airy and ethereal, it's like super dense metallic math rock meets black metal meets jazzprog, until suddenly the band drops out, leaving just solo flute, for 2 plus minutes, wild free jazz fluttery, folky, freaky, the melodies chaotic and complex one second, gentle and lilting the next, squeaks, skronks, wheezes, whistles, the sound falling somewhere between traditional Shakuhachi folk music and manic free jazz. Until finally, the band return, with some Japanese chanting, and epic Viking style riffery, the flute flitting right along, in its own way as aggressive and intense as the riffing beneath it. The second song follows suit, a roiling churning melee of riffs and blast beats, of serpentine riffing, of buzz and crunch, the flute again weaving dense tangled webs of melody draped over everything, a constant fluttering flitting sonic presence, relentless and breathless and truly dizzying.
The whole record is truly relentless, the flute in full on wild solo jam mode continuously, as the band wind and weave various metallic frameworks underneath. And while the sound is dynamic in its own way, it's also utterly ferocious and unrelenting, occasionally allowed some space, when the song unwinds and the flute is left to drift in long stretches of abstract shimmer, or the band slips into something slightly less manic, but for the most part, this is a gloriously mind blowing progjazzmathmetal onslaught.
As if the record wasn't already weird enough, it gets even weirder, and more varied, near the end, as the songs become more dynamic, the arrangements more stop / start, the various woodwinds offering up underwater gurgles and squiggly manic melodies, than more traditional flute sounds. "Yayema" sounds almost gospel-y, very melodic and dramatic, a little over the top, the melodies major key and majestic, but of course peppered with bursts of furious blasts and wild squall of flute freakout. "Uchina" begins like many of the other tracks, a jazz metal blow out, this time with raspy creature-like vocals, and some pounding piano, until the band drops out, leaving just drums and flute and vocals, reminding us a bit of a more freaked out version of that Dave Lombardo plays Vivaldi record, but with far out chanting, distant raspy vocalizations, all very tribal and weird, with a definite Ruins vibe, before launching back into full on metal mode, now with wailing guitar leads all tangled up with the wild flute.
The final track begins with solo flute, before the band joins in, all rough and raw and lo-fi, pounding out a simple mesmerizing riff, almost Circle style, the drums a murky thud, the flute ethereal and transcendent, eventually, the drums sputtering into some wide open space, before getting all wound up with streaks of scrabbly off kilter guitar in some sort of Ginn-ish guitar drum duel, laced with atonal piano pound, fiery flute and crumbling noisy chaos, finally finishing off in a blaze of metallic murk and abstract black jazz whatthefuck.
So awesome. And confusionally genius. Some seemingly impossible mix of black metal, free jazz, Italian prog, traditional Japanese folk, math rock and noise rock; a mind bending, ear melting mash up of Osanna, the Ruins, Absu, Solar Anus, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Comus, Cromagnon, Ghost, Finntroll, Jethro Tull, Circle, Xynfonica, and who the fuck knows what else.
Needless to say, or perhaps worth saying over and over and over. WAY RECOMMENDED. And another contender for metal (or whatever) record of the year.
MPEG Stream: "Takasago"
MPEG Stream: "Noise"
MPEG Stream: "Rakuseki Kakugo"

BUG, THE London Zoo (Ninja Tune) cd 14.98
Hard to believe it's been 5 years since the last Bug full length. We were so obsessed with Pressure, it was exactly what we had been dreaming of, a disc of dancehall, but supercharged, the beats bigger, the toasting more tongue twisting and agile, the flows sick sick sick, the loops and music darker and more fucked up. Makes sense when you have a look at Kevin "The Bug" Martin's resume, having recorded as God, Ice, Techno Animal and Curse Of The Golden Vampire, so imagine classic dancehall filtered through all that cracked and noisy business. Fucking mind blowing. And it's not like Martin has been doing nothing since Pressure. There's been a steady flow of ep's and 12"s, singles and one-offs, but we were long overdue for another batch of damaged fractured fucked up and funky dancehall, and finally, here it is!
And it's so so good. Not quite as hard as Pressure, much more musical, but somehow all the better for it. The beats are still bangin', and the vocalists Martin has gathered are pretty top shelf: Tippa Irie, Ricky Ranking, Flowdan, Killa P, Warrior Queen, Spaceape and Roger Robinson. All of 'em on fire, and the tracks, total dancefloor destroyers, groovy, funky, a wild dancehall mashup, that stuttery beat in all its various permutations, simple looped Double Dutch repetition, skittery almost jungle, murky stripped down dubstep, pounding buzzing gabbery crunch, rubbery woozy shuffle, groovy late night minimal throb and several other variations. 
It's hard to pick favorites, all the tracks are pretty amazing, although we're pretty partial to the songs featuring Ricky Ranking, the super hooky "Murder We", with it's growled buzzing verses, but then an insanely catchy chorus, with gorgeous vocals and lazer gun style FX, then there's the closer "Judgement" a sort of slow jam, but so washed out and fuzzy, menacing and sinister, complete with soulful breakdowns, which shift effortlessly into the growly buzz drenched verses (stick around too, after a few minutes of silence, there's a really beautiful outro). The Warrior Queen tracks are awesome too, especially "Poison Dart" with its school yard flow and rib cage rattling synth buzz, unfurling a weirdly catchy melody beneath pounding simple rhythms and WQ's wicked flow. "Fuckaz" with Spaceape is a pulsing throbbing groove, the vocals a sing songy flow, not nearly as murky and mean sounding as his collabs with Kode 9, and the opener "Angry" with Tippa Irie, is a super bouncy ragga jam, the beat so simple but so infectious, and the vocals again raspy and raw, perfectly balancing the wild bounce beneath. Hard to know what else to say. We're such suckers for dancehall, especially when it gets revved up a bit. Here's hoping we don't have to wait another 5 years.
MPEG Stream: "Angry ft. Tippa Irie"
MPEG Stream: "Murder We ft. Ricky Ranking"
MPEG Stream: "Fuckaz ft. Spaceape"

TORCHE Meanderthal (Robotic) picture disc lp 25.00
This recent Record Of The Week, now available as a super swank picture disc lp, and like the cd, packaged in a fancy, deluxe diecut cover. Here's our review of the cd from when we listed the it earlier:
We have loved Torche from the very first time we heard them. Rare is the band who seem to effortlessly create a sound, that whether we all realized it or not, was exactly what we had always wanted to hear. We haven't met a single person who wasn't immediately smitten with Torche, their sound, the one we had all been hungering for, some kind of perfect pop, made impossibly, and irresistibly heavy. A dizzying collision of incredible hooks and downtuned pummel. And Torche were, and are, the undisputed masters of that very unique heavy catchiness, or catchy heaviness. Their debut sounded like a super charged heavier than Heaven Nirvana, or maybe the Foo Fighters crossed with the Melvins. That was the sort of shit we should be hearing on the radio. And seeing on MTV.
Torche's recent ep, In Return, while still awesome, found the band ditching much of the pop in favor of a much heavier sound, embracing their inner Melvins, yet thankfully never completely losing that pop side, just obscuring it beneath riff after riff and furious skull splitting drumming.
So here comes the long and anxiously awaited second full length, and while maybe after In Return, we were expecting them to move even further away from the pop, we really needn't have worried. Somehow they managed to make a record that falls somehere right in between. Easily as catchy and hook filled as their debut, but even heavier than In Return. The riffs are massive, the guitar sound HUGE, the vocals keep getting better and better, still way down in the mix, but perfectly complimenting the sound, not too melodic, but none of that pointless caterwauling. The drums too, are LOUD and incredible. And the songs, shit, strip away some of the distortion, and we're talking top 40. Sort of.
The opener is an instrumental blast, that sounds like the late great Karp, super dense churning hyper riffage, and super complex drumming, dizzying guitar harmonies, almost like some Fucking Champs / Melvins mashup. But the second is all pop, right out of the gate, an awesome melody, big thick riffs, soaring vocals, over the kind of drumming that is as catchy as any of the other instruments, not since Nirvana would we find ourselves humming the fucking drum fills, but this is Torche, what do you expect? It's like pop punk given a sludge doom makeover.
The whole record is an exercise in extremes, coexisting impossibles. No record this poppy and this catchy could possibly be this dense and distorted and downtuned and heavy, but it is. And no metal record, or sludge record, should be able to be so hook filled and catchy and still retain it's sheer fury and intensity, but again, the proof is right here.
"Across The Shields" sounds like a primo slab of nineties college indie rock, a main vocal melody that sticks in your head the second you hear it, a killer bassline that on its own is as catchy as anything any of the other instruments are doing, but here it's wrapped around super metallic harmonies, dense squalls of tribal drumming, and some chest rattling downtuned chug. "Without A Sound" begins like some sort of early SST jam mixed with dirgey Melvins jam, but deftly transforms into a crazy catchy pop song, "Amnesian" seems to take the obtuse melodic sludgery of Harvey Milk, and turns it inside out, offering up soaring harmonies and a totally majestic main riff, but separated by atonal slabs of slow motion dynamics and pounding percussion, as well as wild FX drenched psychedelic leads. We could probably go song by song, and talk about how heavy and/or catchy each one is, because they are. ALL of them. Some tracks do veer in one direction or the other, but even then, the band seem incapable of sounding anything but both heavy AND poppy. There are certainly worse problems.
But like any band worth their salt, they do delight in confounding, so the record finishes off with the 4 minute, VERY un-poppy title track, incredible sludgey and dirgey title track, beginning with a roiling miasma of guitar buzz and hum, eventually a riff kicks in, the drums stuttering and staccato, the riff a churning start stop, lurching and hypnotic, a dark slithery groove, the guitars crumbling and wet with FX, in the background clouds of glimmering whir and twinkling reverb drenched guitar squiggles, a primo classic Melvins era trudge, and while not overtly catchy, Torche still seem unable to commit to full on pummel, so even in this climax of primal riffage, lurk some unexpected, very subtle hooks. Whether you realize it or not, hours, days, weeks later, you'll find yourself humming along to what ostensibly is the least catchy song here. And if that's not a sign of pop genius, well then we don't know what is...
MPEG Stream: "Triumph Of Venus"
MPEG Stream: "Grenades"
MPEG Stream: "Pirhana"
MPEG Stream: "Meanderthal"

HILL, JOHN 6 Moons Of Jupiter (Finders Keepers) cd 23.00
We knew John Hill as producer of the stunning folk funk lps of Susan Christie and Margo Guryan, but this concept record is where his producing genius is on full display: an epic electronic space jazz composition featuring Susan Christie, Jimmy Valerio, Gerry Mulligan and Walter Sear. Based on a poem by Ian Michaels called "I Am The Storm of Dawn" that suggests life on Earth originated on one of the six moons of Jupiter, Europa (the only other place in the solar system with water and ice), the 6 Moons of Jupiter features Susan Christie reciting the poem with Moogy electronic drones, cellos,  delayed flutes, and percussion. While we're not always huge fans of spoken word, somehow it works here, adding some serious tripped out drugginess to the already pretty far out proceedings. 
According to the liner notes, this was the first part of a proposed 13 piece concept performance, with each piece written in a distinctly different style, somehow combining poetry, electronic technology, classical, jazz and of course 'space rock' (quotes required!) Not sure sure how that would have panned out had they stuck to the plan, especially since it seems that for this first volume they jammed all that stuff together, into one single awesomely mind melting sonic hodgepodge. 
The tracks range from shimmery free jazzscapes, all abstract percussion and buzzing raga like drones, haunting and mysterious, to full on groovy keyboard drenched space-y garage jams, complete with fluttering flute, wheezing organs, creepy chanted vocals, and wailing psych leads, to strange off kilter chamber music, heavy with reverb and long lonesome tones, to pounding sixties style stomp, but all twisted up around jazzy horns, and jaunty Springtime shuffles, to haunting solo strings, dour melancholic melodies over buried soft buzz, to total acid wah guitars, laced with creepy pizzicato strings and warbly rubbery funhouse melodies. Mix in Christie's deadpan spoken word and this becomes a serious jazzy groovy musical mindfuck. And you know what that means. BUY IT!
MPEG Stream: "Europa"
MPEG Stream: "Amalthea"
MPEG Stream: "Io"

POLARIS s/t (Gringo Records) cd 15.98
Sometimes the world does indeed seem like a surprisingly small place. Years back, we were email penpals with a guy in England, who drummed for a killer mathy post rock band called Polaris. We exchanged records, and dug the shit out of the Polaris stuff we heard. Eventually we sort of lost touch, but would often wonder what happened to our friend, and wonder what had happened to the band, who as far as we were concerned should have been way more popular than they were. 
Well, years later, we get a random email from a label looking to get their records into the shop, and lo and behold, right there on the list is a record from a band called Polaris. It couldn't be. Could it? But indeed it was, recorded in 2004, this most recent release (their last?) from UK math rockers Polaris is like a modern take on nineties math rock. A little dreamier and more melodic and a little less raw then we remember, but still so good. Channeling the sound of Polvo, Pitchblende, Archers Of Loaf, Rodan and the like. Spidery minor key melodies, angular riffage, complex mathy drumming, lots of start stop arrangements, super dynamic, with long brooding stretches of loping melancholy groove, giving way to brief squalls of soft crunch, moody Tortoise like meandering, occasional bits of metallic buzz, gorgeous swells of dramatic Slint-isms, weary drawled vocals, all woven into long flowing post rock soundscapes. We sometimes forget how great stuff like this sounds. Hardly any bands make music like this anymore, and even the modern math rock and post rock bands who do have a totally different vibe than back in the day. The cool thing is, while Polaris definitely sound like they were transported here from 1995, they manage to update the sound, making it their own, somehow prettier and dronier, the vibe woozy and dreamy as well as propulsive and tightly (un)wound. So good. Several songs in, we were smitten, totally transported, captivated. It seems impossible but it doesn't sound dated at all, even though it's so reminiscent of the nineties, a testament to the bands skills and chops. Absolutely recommended, especially to folks who miss the math and the post in their rock.
MPEG Stream: "The Moment I Said, 'Yes'"
MPEG Stream: "Out Of Harm's Way"
MPEG Stream: "Sky Blue Pink"

BURNING STAR CORE Challenger (Plastic Records) lp 19.98
Last list's Record Of The Week, also available on vinyl!
The violin is probably the last instrument you think of when you think of underground cd-r noise drone music. Okay, maybe not the last, but it's pretty far down the list for sure. Yet Mr. C. Spencer Yeh has forged a career with his trusty violin, creating a sizable body of work, ranging from full on blown out noise assault, to breathless delicate beauty, to propulsive krautrock infused space rock, and various mixes of all three. We even Record Of The Week-ed his Operator Dead album a while back. But where that record was more of a group effort, this latest disc, Challenger, finds Yeh returning to his solo roots, getting a minimal amount of assistance on just a couple of tracks, but handling the bulk of the soundmaking himself. And while there is no list of instrumentation, we have to assume that violin is not the only instrument present. NOBODY is that good. But even so, Yeh is really really good, and with a violin and whatever else he has in his soundmaking arsenal, he has once again conceived something of great beauty and import, a collection of sounds, of SONGS, an album that is cohesive yet varied, personal and introspective, yet somehow epic and expansive. If anything, this new disc finds Yeh moving his BSC into the rarefied world of spaced out Krautrock. Neu!, Popol Vuh, Tangerine Dream, Ash Ra Tempel, A.R. & The Machines, Brian Eno. Much in the same way aQ faves Expo '70, channel seventies space kraut, so does Yeh, but where Expo '70 create thick heavy spaced out dronescapes, the sounds on Challenger are much more melodic, and drifty, dreamy and mesmerizing. There is plenty of noise to be found, but it's doled out sparingly, melodies are sometimes halo-ed in buzz, or delicate rhythms wreathed in feedback, but it's always muted and minimal, allowing the melody and arrangement to shine, and shine they do, each track, a gorgeously repetitive stretch of space-y abstract groove, looped, but slowly shifting and changing shape, propulsive but subtly so.
The opening two track salvo is some of the most blissfully beautiful soft noise we've heard. In fact, even calling it noise might be doing it a disservice. The opener is a slow burning slab of minimal murmur, laced with soft tinkling chimes, an abstract ghostly melody over a softly pulsing drone, eventually augmented by some shimmery hiss and random sampled ambience, but instead of distracting, these sonic events, cars driving past, wind, tape hiss, they only add texture to the glimmering drift beneath.
The second track begins with a riff (played on a violin?) that is quickly wrapped up in corrosive swaths of warbly effected buzz, the two elements twisting around one another, creating a strange churning soundscape of stretched out space rock riffage and crumbling distorted drone, that manages to be absolutely riveting.
The next few tracks offer up some more experimental fare, brief chunks of ambient weirdness, one of plastic cup percussion, heavily reverbed, in a wide open stretch of distant whir and tangled electronics, another a symphony of processed vocals, looped and chopped into a hiccupping stuttering soundscape, eventually joined by soft shimmery chords and warm chordal buzz, yet another a collection of crinkles and crackles, like someone stepping on bubble wrap, balling up wrapping paper and a campfire, all draped over the sounds of children laughing and playing.
All before returning to the blissed out dronedrift of the opening few tracks. Reverbed jaw harp floats in a field of static hum and twinkling fragmented melody, deep tones are woven into gentle lilting melodies, symphonic snippets are looped and assembled into a slow building drone, underpinned by fuzzy droney melodies, totally stirring and epic, haunting and mysterious, a bit of Jeck mixed in with BSC's usual glorious buzz, maybe one of the most moving (and possibly one of the best) tracks we've ever heard from Yeh and his 'Core. The final track is an Avarus like coda, sheets of hiss like rainfall (might very well be), bits of percussive chime and clank, plenty of hiss and whir, over the top, a shimmering high end electric melody, that drifts and stutters dreamily, like some alien lullaby.
Absolutely stunning. And thus, entirely and unequivocally recommended.
MPEG Stream: "Challenger"
MPEG Stream: "Beauty Hunter"
MPEG Stream: "Hopelessly Devoted"

EAT SKULL Sick To Death (Siltbreeze) lp 14.98
While we're not always fans of made-up genres, which we know is ironic since we make up LOTS of genres, some rankle more than others. The most obvious being 'metal-gaze'. And what's even worse is when one catches on to the point that you sort of HAVE to use it. We've used metal-gaze once or twice, but we much prefer genres like doomdeathdrone or wooden metal.
Gaze is probably the most abused descriptor suffix in made up genres, anything slightly blissy or blown out gets tagged with the -gaze suffix. Rockabilly-gaze, adult contemporary-gaze. Sound silly yeah? Well, metal-gaze is not all that different. But recently a handful of our favorite bands all gathered under a new genre, one we're sort of tickled by, and might be forced to appropriate. SHITGAZE. How great is that, blissy and druggy, but lo-fi and crappy sounding. Times New Viking. Psychedelic Horseshit. Total shitgaze. Got a nice ring to it, pretty evocative, and not all that far off the mark. So the latest band we feel belongs among the ranks of the shitgaze elite is the awesomely named Eat Skull from Portland, who offer up the same sort of fractured damaged noise drenched pop as TNV and PH, but with their own twist. They definitely sound a bit like the bastard sons of vintage Guided By Voices, there is some solid hook filled pop in these here tracks, but it's nearly obscured by super jagged crumbling distorted guitars, howled vocals recorded into a dictaphone, trash can drums, all recorded so in-the-red, your speakers might melt. The thing about Eat Skull is they seem less arty and more punky, more rambunctious and random. Offering up spurts of furious noisepunk one minute, weird twangy jangle the next, then some awesome perfect pop the next, but always buried under layers of grit and buzz and tape hiss, fuzz all over the place, tons of high end, as if the bass knob was broken off so they just replaced it with ANOTHER treble knob, thick swaths of surfy organ, blown out until it's a wall of warbly sound, lots of random tape loops everywhere, overdubbed vocals way up in the mix, totally unhinged and off kilter and ultra chaotic, but catchy and wild and sweaty and over the top and fun as fuck!
For fans of the above mentioned bands as well as stuff like Sic Alps, Oh Sees, Coachwhips, Strapping Fieldhands.
ALL HAIL THE NEW WAVE OF SHITGAZE!
MPEG Stream: "Beach Brains"
MPEG Stream: "Alarms"
MPEG Stream: "Puker Corpse"

VICTIM'S SHUDDER, THE Terror Romance (Paradigms) cd 12.98
While many assumed that Paradigms was an exclusively heavy music label, seeing as many of its early releases were metal, and that it was born out of the death of the truly kick ass Rage Of Achilles label, in fact, from the very beginning, Paradigms has been releasing drone records and free folk records, weird prog records, along side the heavier metal and black metal and noise records, discs by bands like Gnaw Their Tongues, The Angelic Process, Throne Of Katarsis, Titan, Utlagr were balanced by discs from Plants, Tropes, Amber Asylum, Somnam, Snowdrift, this latest from California's The Victim's Shudder definitely fits more with the latter group.
Long dreamlike expanses of synthesized shimmer, drifting female vocals. The obvious reference is Cocteau Twins, maybe Dead Can Dance, TVS would have been right at home on 4AD, or at their most bleak and drone-y on Cold Meat Industry. TVS is essentially a one man band, who weaves massive reverby drifts of soft sound, shimmery and dreamlike, ethereal and New Agey at times, flurries of delicate piano drift over synthesized strings, cooing vocals hover in wide open expanses of sun dappled ambience, everything is gauzy and soft around the edges, bleary eyed and blurred.
A few tracks up the ante heaviness-wise, like "For Francesca" with its buzzing synths (or could they be real guitars?), growling demonic vox, lots of distortion and crumbling rumbles, grit and interference, all draped over a soaring chunk of stately neo-classical, or the cinematic drift of "A Godless Serene", replete with the sound of water and wind, field recordings layered beneath quivering strings and mournful melodies. The disc closes with the 13 minute "One Last Fatal Suite", beginning as another delicate crystalline blur, vocals indistinct and wordless, piano, simple and pointillist, eventually joined by strange electronic specters, high end streaks, grinding bits of crunch, static, hiss, building to a haunting caterwaul before drifting away completely. Beautiful and haunting, definitely for the 4AD inclined, and fans of neo-classical dark ambience. Maybe not heavy enough for some of the Paradigms faithful, but quite pretty nonetheless.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Packaged in a white dvd style case, with a full color cover and printed black and white insert.
MPEG Stream: "Silent When You Scream"
MPEG Stream: "Enchanting Spiral Gears"

BURNING STAR CORE Challenger (Hospital Productions) cd 13.98
The violin is probably the last instrument you think of when you think of underground cd-r noise drone music. Okay, maybe not the last, but it's pretty far down the list for sure. Yet Mr. C. Spencer Yeh has forged a career with his trusty violin, creating a sizable body of work, ranging from full on blown out noise assault, to breathless delicate beauty, to propulsive krautrock infused space rock, and various mixes of all three. We even Record Of The Week-ed his Operator Dead album a while back. But where that record was more of a group effort, this latest disc, Challenger, finds Yeh returning to his solo roots, getting a minimal amount of assistance on just a couple of tracks, but handling the bulk of the soundmaking himself. And while there is no list of instrumentation, we have to assume that violin is not the only instrument present. NOBODY is that good. But even so, Yeh is really really good, and with a violin and whatever else he has in his soundmaking arsenal, he has once again conceived something of great beauty and import, a collection of sounds, of SONGS, an album that is cohesive yet varied, personal and introspective, yet somehow epic and expansive. If anything, this new disc finds Yeh moving his BSC into the rarefied world of spaced out Krautrock. Neu!, Popol Vuh, Tangerine Dream, Ash Ra Tempel, A.R. & The Machines, Brian Eno. Much in the same way aQ faves Expo '70, channel seventies space kraut, so does Yeh, but where Expo '70 create thick heavy spaced out dronescapes, the sounds on Challenger are much more melodic, and drifty, dreamy and mesmerizing. There is plenty of noise to be found, but it's doled out sparingly, melodies are sometimes halo-ed in buzz, or delicate rhythms wreathed in feedback, but it's always muted and minimal, allowing the melody and arrangement to shine, and shine they do, each track, a gorgeously repetitive stretch of space-y abstract groove, looped, but slowly shifting and changing shape, propulsive but subtly so.
The opening two track salvo is some of the most blissfully beautiful soft noise we've heard. In fact, even calling it noise might be doing it a disservice. The opener is a slow burning slab of minimal murmur, laced with soft tinkling chimes, an abstract ghostly melody over a softly pulsing drone, eventually augmented by some shimmery hiss and random sampled ambience, but instead of distracting, these sonic events, cars driving past, wind, tape hiss, they only add texture to the glimmering drift beneath.
The second track begins with a riff (played on a violin?) that is quickly wrapped up in corrosive swaths of warbly effected buzz, the two elements twisting around one another, creating a strange churning soundscape of stretched out space rock riffage and crumbling distorted drone, that manages to be absolutely riveting.
The next few tracks offer up some more experimental fare, brief chunks of ambient weirdness, one of plastic cup percussion, heavily reverbed, in a wide open stretch of distant whir and tangled electronics, another a symphony of processed vocals, looped and chopped into a hiccupping stuttering soundscape, eventually joined by soft shimmery chords and warm chordal buzz, yet another a collection of crinkles and crackles, like someone stepping on bubble wrap, balling up wrapping paper and a campfire, all draped over the sounds of children laughing and playing.
All before returning to the blissed out dronedrift of the opening few tracks. Reverbed jaw harp floats in a field of static hum and twinkling fragmented melody, deep tones are woven into gentle lilting melodies, symphonic snippets are looped and assembled into a slow building drone, underpinned by fuzzy droney melodies, totally stirring and epic, haunting and mysterious, a bit of Jeck mixed in with BSC's usual glorious buzz, maybe one of the most moving (and possibly one of the best) tracks we've ever heard from Yeh and his 'Core. The final track is an Avarus like coda, sheets of hiss like rainfall (might very well be), bits of percussive chime and clank, plenty of hiss and whir, over the top, a shimmering high end electric melody, that drifts and stutters dreamily, like some alien lullaby.
Absolutely stunning. And thus, entirely and unequivocally recommended.
MPEG Stream: "Challenger"
MPEG Stream: "Beauty Hunter"
MPEG Stream: "Hopelessly Devoted"

ONDO Mahavishnu (Paradigms) cd 12.98
The second of two new releases on the always kick ass Paradigms label from the UK. The first being the reviewed-elsewhere-on-this-list latest release from 4AD ethereal drifters The Victims Shudder, the other, being this, the latest slab of crushing black ambience and deep dark dronemusic from Sweden's Ondo. Weirdly enough, we were already fans having dug heavily the cd-r released on 200mg a short while back, and were already pining for more, and voila. Whereas that cd-r was a single looooong song, this disc is split into distinct movements, each a bleak and caustic chunk of truly ominous ambience. Actually, there is so much stuff going on, and this is so dark and heavy, it's almost disingenuous to call it ambient music. This is cinematic abstract free noise drone music. Heavy enough to worm its way inside the ears of drone inclined metalheads, but dark and blissed out enough to keep the drone obsessed in downtuned druggy nirvana.
The label mentions early Earth, Raison D'Etre and Fennesz, and damn if all three of those don't definitely apply. Pretty melodies are buried under slabs of grinding buzz, chords are woven into undulating sheets of fuzzy sound, everything is hissy and glitchy, with a gauzy sheen. Imagine Earth 2 as reimagined by Christian Fennesz and you might be getting close. Chords and notes, churn and throb, blackened sounds pulse ominously enveloping crystalline shimmers and music box like melodies, voices and samples are chopped up and distorted, riffs are pulled apart into washed out smears of sound. Some of the tracks definitely border on serious doom territory, while others are blurred distorted dreamscapes, all skittery and smeared, dark pianos, radio distortion and amp buzz, distant melodic whir, all tangled into something creepy and beautiful, strings draped over crumbling industrial crunch, all woven around heaving heaviness, rendered in slow moving swells. Way recommended for fans of things slow and low, dark and doomy, murky and mysterious.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES. Packaged in a white dvd style case, with a full color cover and printed black and white insert.
MPEG Stream: "Mahavishnu"
MPEG Stream: "Forrest"

PHAIR, LIZ Exile In Guyville (ATO) cd+dvd 15.98
We had almost forgotten how divisive this record was when it came out way back in 1993. But we were quickly reminded when this reissue dropped just by observing the reactions from some folks, especially women, which is ironic as Exile In Guyville was meant to be this vitriolic girl power bash on one of Phair's exes (dude from Urge Overkill apparently), but lots of the women we know were really put off by this record. Not sure if it was Phair herself, what she became, or just the whole concept, which could come across as a whinging bitterly about a breakup instead of a powerful kick ass fuck you to a shitty ex, but listening to this again just reminds us that Exile In Guyville is a pretty fucking awesome record. Dark jangly indie pop, with super intense, often harsh, sometimes hilarious lyrics, all wound up with dark melodies, powerful guitars, and KILLER hooks, and while Phair's voice is not necessarily super polished, it totally suits the material, raw, rough, but melodic and sweet, and with a definite edge, often straining for notes she can't reach, but instead of sounding wrong, it ends up sounding passionate and aggressive, sometimes dangerously sexy, other times wistful and sad. Supposedly a song by song reworking of the Rolling Stones Exile On Mainstreet, it's easy to get all hung up on the drama and the fallout, and the post Guyville shitty records Phair released, and the ALL the hype, but fuck all that, this record is awesome. As essential in terms of nineties college rock as the Lemonheads It's A Shame About Ray or a handful of other iconic releases.
Some standout tracks: the could-have-been-a-hit "Never Said with it's soaring chorus and big crunchy guitars, the swirling moody guitar/vocal workout of "Dance Of The Seven Veils" with it's swoonsome falsetto and the (apparently, at the time) shocking use of the word 'cunt' in the lyrics, and of course the most referenced Guyville track "Fuck And Run", and for good reason, a super stripped down jangle, with awesomely bitter lyrics and it's "fuck and run" refrain, the crunchy grinding guitar heavy "Johnny Sunshine", with its dueling vocals and almost choral second half, and maybe our favorite track "Stratford-On-Guy" a loping minor key groove with almost spoken vocals, but all woven around a killer minor key main melody.
What else can we say, we loved it back in the day, it sounds just as good now as it did then. The reissue tacks on three bonus tracks, not essential, but fans will certainly dig. Also included is a dvd featuring a documentary about the making of Guyville, as well as the reaction to the record featuring tons of (maybe not so) random folks including Dave Matthews, Ira Glass, Gerard Cosloy from Matador, Steve Albini and more, as well as Phair in conversation with the man who inspired the record! Interesting and fun, maybe a little self important, but ultimately, all the extra stuff is totally superfluous, as the record as it is, as it was, all on its own, is really all you need, and if you don't already have it, then you really do need it.
MPEG Stream: "Dance Of The Seven Veils"
MPEG Stream: "Never Said"
MPEG Stream: "Fuck And Run"
MPEG Stream: "Stratford-On-Guy"

NEKRASOV The Form Of Thought From Beast (Exotic Corpse) cd 14.98
Record number two from this grim one man nekronoise black metal horde from Australia. We raved about the first one, Into The No-Man's Sphere Of The Ancient Days, a few lists back, but we're led to believe that a handful of you may have not made it past the first paragraph, the intro, the hook. If that was you, well, you should be regretting it now, and when you finish reading this review, listening to the sound samples, and most likely buying one of these, go back to the No-Man's review, skip the beginning and jump right in and read the whole thing. And everything will be right.
The point of that intro, and that review, and to a certain extent this one too, was that adding noise is not always as simple as just, well, adding noise. Mixing to genres, even if they're related, just as often leads to something messy and pointless, as it does to some genius fusion. And there is definitely plenty of noisy black metal, but much of it is either thick noise over shitty metal, or just metal, with the noise an afterthought. One must have a serious handle on both THE NOISE and THE RIFF to make it work. And if you hadn't figured it out by now, Nekrosov is most definitely a master of both the noise and the riff, and manages to fuse the two into something blackly transcendent.
That said however, the opening one two punch here are a bit misleading, in that the noise and the riff are kept well separate, the first, an ominous glitched out landscape of bleak minimal buzz and drone, hiss and crackle, almost like a black metal Philip Jeck, and the second track, the furious buzzing blasting "Mountain Ash" sounds amazing, only noisy in as much as black metal is inherently noisy, super well produced, the riffs HUGE and heavy, the drums lightning fast, erupting in squalls of impossible blasts, the vocals grim and harsh, the melodies soaring, even some hooks buried beneath the buzz.
The next track however finds Nekrosov returning to more familiar blacknoise ground. Deep swirling waves of static buzz, the vocals stretched into sheets of abstract whir, churning and roiling, beneath melodies lurk and struggle to surface, held under by the buzzing blackness. It's almost like some black metal song was frozen, a single moment played over and over stretched into some sort of infinite loop, but it's not a loop as it slowly grows and sprawls and spreads out into something expansive. It's almost ambient, and strangely soothing in its droniness, without losing any of its grim buzz or black mystery.
The next few tracks veer back and forth between, blown out soundscapes of samples and percussion, blurred into a windswept buzz, what sounds like ghostlike vocals underneath processed sounds of whipping winds and the click clack of a railroad, to noise drenched old school raw black metal crush, to slow burning deep ambience, to full on classic eighties style riffing, the old masters rendered in new shades of black and buzz, finally culminating in the twenty minute closer, which begins as some bleak, post industrial Wolf Eyes-an dronescape, all haunting whirs, and strange clanks and clunks, distant moans, bits of percussion and mysterious samples, building to a wall of white hot blackened buzz, sheathed in streaks of feedback and pulled apart riffs, this is the sort of shit that would put most cd-r dronescapers to shame, but it's not over yet, the wall of noise slowly takes shape, riffs emerge from the murk, drums explode from beneath the veil of hiss, the track barreling along churning wildly, riffing and blasting, but gradually sinking ever deeper into a morass of gorgeous textured noise, crackle and buzz and hiss, blown out and super distorted, eventually swallowing the blackness whole, leaving just a brief glimpse of the black buzz, before blinking out.
Fucking AWESOME! Absolutely essential. As is the first disc, if you haven't gone back and re-checked that one out already.
Killer handmade packaging too. The cd housed in a printed fold over black and white cardstock sleeve, that sleeve, housed in an oversized sealed envelope, hand painted black and red and silver, very abstract, and super striking. And as you might have guessed. ULTRA LIMITED!!! But the special print handmade versions are limited to 100 copies and we have the very last copies. Once these are gone, you'll get the normal version. Same music, mostly the same packaging, just minus the painted outer sleeve...
MPEG Stream: "Mountain Ash"
MPEG Stream: "Today The Sun A Golden Illusion"

BAADER BRAINS The Complete Unfinished Works Of The Young Tigers (Waking Records / Clean Plate / Empyre) 12" 11.98
Baader Brains. This is one of those wonderful instances where the name kind of says it all: frenzied, powerful, pummeling hardcore punk mixed with the aesthetics and politics of extreme Marxist urban guerilla movements. It's by no means a novel combination, but it's incredibly rare for a band of this ilk to be so well done and for every one of its elements to have been given so much obvious consideration. Musically, The Complete Unfinished Works Of The Young Tigers takes the majority of its queues from Damaged-era Black Flag and the Gravity Records catalog, but manages to still sound vibrant, and totally current. It's muscular, angular, fractured and anthemic all at once and recalls everything that makes us excited about this particular brand of punk rock (post-hardcore, or whatever you want to call it). This should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with the pedigree of Baader Brain's membership: Mike Kirsch and Jose Palafox (guitar and drums, respectively) have done time in some of the heaviest hitters of the West Coast US hardcore scene since the late '80s. Kirsch, in particular, is a revered figure in the Bay Area, having lent his talents on guitar, vocals and electronics to a long list of bands including Fuel, Torches To Rome, and Please Inform The Captain This Is A Hijack; while Palafox's drumming has been an integral part of Struggle, The Swing Kids, and Yaphet Kotto. Both also did time in the mighty Bread and Circuits, who sole LP is an underrated classic.  Suffice to say, if you have even a passing interest in the catalogs of Ebullition, The Mountain Collective, Level Plane, or Gravity Records, this is going to freak your beak.
Where Baader Brains becomes (as the youth say) some seriously next level shit, is with everything that surounds the music itself and their uncanny ability to balance the two without either one outshining the other. The group's devotion to the aesthetic of leftist paramilitary revolution is beyond impressive, while their command and use of its related tropes and references is encyclopedic. The packaging, album art, liner notes and samples that bridge most of the songs together manage to string together a bewildering series of shout outs (both blatant and subversive) to everything from the RAF to the Khmer Rouge to the PFLP to the Black Panthers and more (there's even some John Zerzan-style future primitivism thrown in there for good measure)! It's a flood of images, sounds and references that manages to capture the frenetic audio-visual overload of the band's live show, something that we here in the Bay Area are lucky enough to get to see on a semi-regular basis (picture ever-evolving uniforms of the Young Tigers, imposters posing as the actual band being run off the stage at gunpoint, tiger striped balloons falling from the ceiling, split screen video projections, and a seamless integration of live music and samples all crammed together in about 20 minutes of whip-tight performance). Baader Brains' commitment to its rigorous aesthetic is so complete and so all-encompassing in its mix of different media, that it almost makes more sense to think of this LP as a small part of a much larger piece of ongoing performance art.  That said, this is a seriously ass-kicking record and those of you with no interest in the band's political leanings or no knowledge of the references will find nothing lacking in the record's musical content.
Unsurprisingly, The Complete Unfinished Works Of The Young Tigers comes lavishly packaged to the point that it took three separate labels to come up with enough resources to make it happen.  You get a full-colour jacket printed inside and out), an LP-sized obi, two separate inserts, and a fully printed inner sleeve. It's seriously over-the-top, it's limited to 1000 copies worldwide (300 of those are on swirled yellow and black vinyl and yes we have a handful of those, but will be doled out RANDOMLY!!!), and is selling out all over the place. Don't sleep on this one - this is one of the most exciting hardcore records we've heard in a long time, and we can't recommend it highly enough!
MPEG Stream: "Year Zero"
MPEG Stream: "Boiling at the Gates"
MPEG Stream: "Be Seeing You at Camp Delta"

RUDIMENTARY PENI No More Pain (Southern) cd ep 12.98
Let's just start by saying WE LOVE RUDIMENTARY PENI. Easily one of our favorite punk rock groups EVER. Murky and muddy and furious and freaked out. If you somehow don't already own Death Church or Cacophony, you must go try to track them down immediately. Those two records are as near flawless as something fucked up and punk rock and gloomy and demented can actually get without ceasing to be all those things.
Much has been written about Peni frontman Nick Blinko, who has spent most of his adult life in and out of asylums, and who is responsible for the band's super striking album covers, super intricate pen and ink drawings, which must take forever, and could only have been drawn by someone either truly inspired, truly demented or both. And somehow, those drawings perfectly and impossibly reflect the music on the inside. Where the drawings are incredibly detailed and complex to the point of mania, the music is stripped down and repetitive, often with just one or two parts, the vocals often just a few lines repeated over and over.
Listening to No More Pain, the first RP record in almost 4 years, we were struck by how much all of the super raw and stripped down primitive black metal sounds like Rudimentary Peni. Akitsa, Bone Awl, Ancestors, Ildjarn, plenty of D-beat stuff, slow it down to a more garagey punk rock pound and it's uncanny. In fact, the mind boggles at a black metal Peni, imagining these tracks sped up and blackened, wow.
Anyway, this is classic Peni, 10 songs, less than 20 minutes, simple, stomping riff heavy crusty punk, the drums pounding away, the riffs repetitive and mesmerizing, the vocals growled and howled and crooned, the lyrics mantra-like, the songs weirdly catchy too, almost poppy, but just 'off' enough to remain dark and mysterious and intense.
The only true weirdness is a very unexpected cover of Pachelbel's Canon, which to be honest, sounds pretty good, the guitars all warped and twisted, but it almost sounds too happy, but everything is slightly off enough, and just a little bit cracked that is manages to sound just a bit demented, which we can only suppose is the point.
MPEG Stream: "No More Pain"
MPEG Stream: "Eyes Of The Dead"
MPEG Stream: "Prayer For The Unborn"

RUDIMENTARY PENI No More Pain (Southern) 12" 14.98
Let's just start by saying WE LOVE RUDIMENTARY PENI. Easily one of our favorite punk rock groups EVER. Murky and muddy and furious and freaked out. If you somehow don't already own Death Church or Cacophony, you must go try to track them down immediately. Those two records are as near flawless as something fucked up and punk rock and gloomy and demented can actually get without ceasing to be all those things.
Much has been written about Peni frontman Nick Blinko, who has spent most of his adult life in and out of asylums, and who is responsible for the band's super striking album covers, super intricate pen and ink drawings, which must take forever, and could only have been drawn by someone either truly inspired, truly demented or both. And somehow, those drawings perfectly and impossibly reflect the music on the inside. Where the drawings are incredibly detailed and complex to the point of mania, the music is stripped down and repetitive, often with just one or two parts, the vocals often just a few lines repeated over and over.
Listening to No More Pain, the first RP record in almost 4 years, we were struck by how much all of the super raw and stripped down primitive black metal sounds like Rudimentary Peni. Akitsa, Bone Awl, Ancestors, Ildjarn, plenty of D-beat stuff, slow it down to a more garagey punk rock pound and it's uncanny. In fact, the mind boggles at a black metal Peni, imagining these tracks sped up and blackened, wow.
Anyway, this is classic Peni, 10 songs, less than 20 minutes, simple, stomping riff heavy crusty punk, the drums pounding away, the riffs repetitive and mesmerizing, the vocals growled and howled and crooned, the lyrics mantra-like, the songs weirdly catchy too, almost poppy, but just 'off' enough to remain dark and mysterious and intense.
The only true weirdness is a very unexpected cover of Pachelbel's Canon, which to be honest, sounds pretty good, the guitars all warped and twisted, but it almost sounds too happy, but everything is slightly off enough, and just a little bit cracked that is manages to sound just a bit demented, which we can only suppose is the point.
MPEG Stream: "No More Pain"
MPEG Stream: "Eyes Of The Dead"
MPEG Stream: "Prayer For The Unborn"

ISENGRIND / TWINSISTERMOON / NATURAL SNOW BUILDINGS The Snowbringer Cult (Students Of Decay) 2cd 21.00
As we commented in our review of the now out of print Laurie Bird cd-r from French bedroom drone-psych-folk duo Natural Snow Buildings, it always surprises us how bands with nothing but a MySpace page and a cd-r or two, can generate so much hype and excitement. It seems to be a common occurrence these days, with some bands even getting real live major label record deals purely on the strength of the handful of tracks on their MySpace page.
To be fair to Natural Snow Buildings, they have been a band since 1999, toiling quietly WAY underground, and over the course of the last 9 years, have only released 4 cd-r's and two tapes, the total number of copies of all 6 releases hovering at about 250. That's insane! How does a band with such a small catalog, that has reached so few ears, possibly generate so much fanboy freakout?! But that's precisely what happened. But thankfully, and perhaps surprisingly, in this case, the hype does not seem unwarranted. The freaking out more than merited. The music of Natural Snow Buildings is definitely something special, much more than the usual generic fx laden droned out abstract cd-r floor-core that seems to be flooding the scene, this boy girl duo write songs, and create gorgeous soundscapes, they mix raga-like psyche with fluttery folk, deep drones with pristine pop, weaving it all together into something spectacular.
So here we have the very first proper cd release (others on the way, reissues of several of their various way-too limited cd-r's) from Natural Snow Buildings, bundled with an extra disc, featuring a whole record from both NSB members' solo projects, Twinsistermoon, whose last disc we reviewed recently, and Isengrind, the project of Solange, the female half of NSB.
Isengrind's half of disc one begins with some deep dark ambience, huge shimmering streaks of ominous sound, like an orchestra tuning up in a cave, drawn out into warm washes of dronelike sound, processed choral vocals, and wheezing accordions. That intro gives way to a buzzing Eastern style raga, lots of percussion, shakers, bells, hand drums, buried beneath a shimmery smear of thick coruscating buzz, a sea of sitars, with Solange's vocals soaring ghostlike over the top. The next track is a dark folky drift, a simple melody, fluttering flute, more abstract percussion, definitely reminiscent of Avarus and other Finnish forest folk, but somehow more ethereal, and genuinely folky. The rest of the Isengrind tracks drift from spectre like folk, simple strums soaked in reverb and wrapped around ethereal vocals, to more raga jams, Indian style buzz filtered through a fractured folk sensibility, to haunting cinematic ambience, abstract soundscapes rife with streaks of feedback and wheezing chordal whir, disembodied strum, mysterious vocals and sporadic percussion, tribal, primal, primitive and raw, but still dreamlike and lovely.
Mehdi begins his side of the disc, with a sound that perfectly compliments Solange's (and make it obvious why the two work so well together in NSB), long drawn out glimmering high end tones, draped over a dark minor key folky strum, and simple percussion, while Mehdi's feminine sounding falsetto soars over the top, all infused with some sort of freaky folky Wickerman vibe. Gorgeous and haunting. That track is followed up by a short chunk of perfect dreamfolk, simple folky strum, and Mehdi's crystal clear vocals, ringing out, pure and impossibly high, if you didn't know better you might think this was some rare track by some lost seventies female folkie.
And so it goes, tracks weaving back and forth, from warm washed out blissy dreamy dronescapes, to simple stripped down folk, often the two sounds drifting into each other, cross pollinating, the folk songs short and seemingly serving to separate the longer sprawling expanses of drone and shimmer, the two sounds dramatically different, but somehow complimenting one another perfectly.
So what happens when the two join forces, becoming Natural Snow Buildings? It would be way too easy to say that the sum equaled the parts, that if you took the sound of the two halves of the first disc, it would equal the whole of the second. There is certainly ­some- truth to that, but it's not math, it's magic. Alchemy, musical sorcery, these are sounds not numbers, and thus are governed by forces far more magical and mysterious than physics or science. The two together join spirits, their natures become entwined, they draw from one another, each offering the other part of their soul, rendered in music. The results are truly divine. An assemblage of sounds, deftly woven into expansive shapes and hushed mystery, landscapes of drone and shimmer, of cinematic wonder and dark introspection. Some tracks are super abstract, layered near static drifts, longform movements that sonically evoke other lands, other times, the past long forgotten, the future not yet experienced, other tracks are wheezing sun dappled Appalachia, but turned inside out, the chords and notes seemingly drawn inward, toward the speakers, the vocals breathless and mournful, all laid atop a thick swirl of distorted riffage, other tracks are fragmented folk, all murky blurred piano, backwards guitars, heartsick melodies, wrapped in a thick gauzy production, smeared into snapshots glimpsed through eyes brimming with tears. Other tracks are space rock writ small, minimal dirges, drone jams, chanted vocals, strange stuttery percussion, and glorious buzzing guitars, culminating in the final track, which begins much like the others, all hazy and dreamlike, vocals ethereal, guitars spare and skeletal, until unexpectedly the band lock into some serious droned out space rock. A serious dark and druggy looped riff, a la Spacemen 3, Hawkwind, Loop, anchored by a simple pounding thudrock rhythm, driving intensely through swirling clouds of FX and warm whirring ambience, a seriously dense, propulsive krautjam, that just so happens to hide a soft drifting pop shimmer underneath, and while the track rocks with a surprising intensity, it's precisely what's underneath that turns the jam into something resplendent.
Gorgeous packaging, a fancy 4 panel gatefold digisleeve, with super striking original artwork and liner notes all drawn by Solange.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES!!!
MPEG Stream: NATURAL SNOW BUILDINGS "Resurrect Dead On Planet Six"
MPEG Stream: NATURAL SNOW BUILDINGS "Bear Hunting"
MPEG Stream: TWINSISTERMOON "Amantsokan"
MPEG Stream: ISENGRIND "To Ride With Holle"

FLEET FOXES s/t (Sub Pop) cd 13.98
We weren't all that into Fleet Foxes when we heard this record the first time. Not sure if it was us reacting to the usual way-too-much-hype that seems to surround so many debut releases these days. Or if the music just didn't move us. So we had sort of written them off as another 'whatever' band, decent enough to carry, but not special enough for us to worry about reviewing. But then we saw them perform live, and something changed. It was a revelation. It's difficult to pinpoint what it was exactly, but they sounded amazing, lush, timeless, sort of rocking, the vocals impossibly beautiful, harmonies to die for. It might have been hearing them LOUD, it could have been the fact that they were performing in a sun dappled glade, surrounded by tress and green grassy hills, probably a little of both. Whatever it was, it opened our ears, and the beauty of Fleet Foxes was revealed to us. A lush seventies Laurel Canyon sort of countryish pop folk. Crosby, Stills and Nash are the obvious reference, maybe the Eagles too. But also mix in some Beach Boys, some Big Star, the pop element is undeniable, the sound fuzzy and sun dappled, the percussion orchestral, the arrangements grand and epic, but somehow, it all sounds so intimate and personal. Sunshiney, melancholy, dreamy, intricate steel string guitars, shuffling drums, hand claps, all just a background for the lovely vocals, a high crystal clear croon, that easily slips into a falsetto, before swooping back down again, and the harmonies, oh the harmonies, absolutely divine. So much so we sometimes find ourselves just waiting for the parts where the band pulls back leaving just the vocals, perhaps an acoustic guitar, those are the moments that make this band so fantastic. Thus returning to the record, we have a whole different take. All of the above describes the sounds within, pretty perfectly, not sure why it took seeing them play live, but for whatever reason, we're glad we did. Otherwise we would have missed out on Fleet Foxes' lush loveliness. Just listen to "White WInter Hymnal" and if you're not sold, well then, figure out a way to get these guys to set up and play for you in some field or forest, it will be well worth it.
MPEG Stream: "White Winter Hymnal"
MPEG Stream: "Sun It Rises"

LEVIATHAN Massive Conspiracy Against All Life (Moribund Cult) 2lp 23.00
NOW AVAILABLE ON BLACK VINYL! Packaged in a super deluxe, full color, extra thick, gatefold sleeve, that makes Hildolf's (from Draugar) creepy cover art all the more striking. Includes a massive 12"x12" lyric / photo book, printed on cool textured paper, and LIMITED TO ONLY 500 COPIES!!! Here's what we had to say about the cd version when we reviewed it a few weeks back:
We talk about 'long awaited' releases all the time, records we hear about well before their actual release date, forcing us to wait and wait and wait, but few records have been as eagerly anticipated, or generated so many emails from customers as this, the latest from SF black metal behemoth Leviathan. Especially considering the rumors circulating that this may indeed be the final recording from Wrest and his one man band, Leviathan. If it is indeed a swansong, it's hard to imagine a more fitting or more powerful farewell-and-fuck-off.
Even being a huge fan and voracious devourer of black metal, we would be hard pressed to tell lots of BM bands apart. It's the nature of the beast in some ways. But the second we threw this on, even if we hadn't known what was playing, there's no mistaking the sound of Leviathan, the guitar tone, those demonic croaked vocals, the dizzying lush black buzzscapes, the convoluted song structures, the weird mathy rhythms and the incredible riffs.
Massive Conspiracy is not a huge departure from the sound of Tentacles Of Whorror, if anything, it just takes all the elements of that record and pushes them just that much further out. The sound is a bit more dense, more epic, the drumming is amazing (especially after the switch from electronic drums to real drums) the compositions more sprawling and expansive in scope. Which is saying a lot since past Leviathan records were pretty dang epic and sprawling already.
The sheer hatred of the titles is certainly expressed in the music as well, this is some scathing, hateful furious sound.
The record begins with some strange static, hissing drone-like buzz, ominous ambience beneath it, a haunting melody, then Wrest's howl and the record explodes in a flurry of rapid fire riffing and relentless blasting, but only briefly, the song immediately switches gear into a lurching lope, then right back into the blast. The song is peppered with super dense squalls of high end buzz, streaks of ultradistorted skree, while beneath all sorts of murky melodies lurk, almost like some old 78 was left playing in the background, giving the track an incredible creepy vibe, the last half of the song wraps itself around a slithery downtuned staccato riff, a gorgeously grim dirge that pounds its way to a burst of black chaos at the finish.
The second track is all whirring drones, loping drums, and Wrest's gurgling growl, a weird skeletal ambient dirge that is soon swallowed up by keening high end guitars, crunching downtuned churn, and some super freaky almost operatic vocals, the middle of the song is all full speed freaked out intensity, before again, the song locks into a super riffy groove, much like the opener, before finishing off in another black blaze.
The rest of the record follows suit, weaving super elaborate soundscapes of black metal buzz, and moody mathy meandering, dense black ambience, and swirling low end drones, the tracks rife with parts and bridges and confusional changes, all masterfully wound up into dense convoluted blackened, that while on their own are strange enough, are also peppered will all manner of sonic weirdness, be it slippery peals of woozy, dizzying melody, garbled vocal fragments, soaring harmony guitar melodies, super obtuse dynamics,
All culminating in the final two tracks. "Vulgar Asceticism" is definitely the most fucked, and maybe most amazing song Wrest has ever recorded. Even the opening, with its muted riffing and murky bass throb, staccato riff, and weird Greg Ginn-ish scrape and grind, before the song takes off. And the main riff is super warbly, almost sounding like he's playing with a slide, the notes wavering and detuning, only to be yanked back in line, and then bent way out of tune again, the result a blurry seasick lurch, exacerbated by the dynamics, the riffs often slipping into strange start stop stutters, until the song reaches it's middle stretch, the bass and drums locked into a relentless midtempo blast, while layers of guitars, and various riffs slip and slide, waver and warble, a super dizzy expanse of funhouse mirror blackness that is as fucked up and far out as it is amazing and masterful.
The closer, "Noisome Ash Crown" is an appropriately somber end to Massive Conspiracy, maybe even Leviathan itself. The whole first half a funereal crawl, a bleak grim landscape of whirring thick black ambience, and strange squalls of processed vocals, squiggles of distorted guitar, the drums a solid framework for the drifting abyss above. A strange washed out, gauzy black ambient bridge, gives way to a crushing almost industrial dirge, the melodies majestic and sorrowful, the vocals harrowing and harsh, the drums furiously flailing before transforming into muted little tangles, the rest of the song following suit, a dark minor key outro that gives way to the same black static that started the record.
MPEG Stream: "Vesture Dipped In The Blood Of Morning"
MPEG Stream: "Merging With Sword, Onto Them"
MPEG Stream: "Made As The Stale Wine Of Wrath"

PYHA The Haunted House (tUMULt) cd 13.98
Unbelievably grim and blown out Burzumic black metal buzz from a Korean eighth grader! Recordedover the course of a year or two and released when he was 14 years old! It's true. tUMULt has been trying to get this out for ages, and it's finally here. Black metal record of the week? The year more likely. Perhaps maybe EVER.
It took almost two years to track Pyha down, and then almost four more to sort out the eventual release of this grim depressive black masterpiece. Here's how it started:
Longtime aQ pal Steven Schultz (he of Puny Humans and Stalin Claus Superstar infamy) was studying in Korea and bought a bunch of records. None of them really impressed him that much, except for one mysterious disc, by a 'group' called Pyha, which in Korean means 'ruins'. He later discovered that Pyha was the work of one man, er, kid actually, a 14 year old eighth grade black metaller! Needless to say, WOW. Anyway, on returning, Steven passed the cd on to Andee who was BLOWN AWAY. Completely floored, so much so that he knew he had to release it. More people HAD to hear this. So the hunt was on. How to track down a 14 year old kid in Korea. Pre-internet it would have been impossible. But another aQ pal, Jason, was actually living part time in Korea, weirdly enough he's a minor television star there, and offered to try and track down Pyha. Which miraculously he did, and we then discovered that there were in fact 4 albums, all recorded when Pyha was between the ages of 14 and 17! All of which are amazing, and all of which should eventually be released on tUMULt.
But this is THE ONE. The essence of pure inspired ultra personal musical expression. Powerful and intense, blown out and buzz drenched, depressive and melancholic. Andee sent a cd-r of the record to a writer at Terrorizer, who was so impressed, he reviewed the sans-art home burned cd-r in that magazine and gave it a TEN. It's that fucking mind blowing. We mentioned in our recent review of the Wrath Of The Weak record that it was maybe the buzziest black metal record ever. Well, it has nothing on Pyha. Totally in the red, digital distortion, crumbling and furious. The vocals anguished wails and tortured howls, the drums simple programmed beats, weirdly clipped and processed, also wreathed in distortion, keyboards offering up more buzz and shimmer. Long stretches of creepy ambience, samples of speeches and warfare, of wailing weeping mothers and children, all woven into Pyha's buzzing black tapestry. Total bedroom lo-fi production, but completely idiosyncratic and inspired. No blast beats or furious thrashing, instead, the tracks are either midtempo, or no-tempo, with some tracks eschewing drums all together, just a wall of ultra distorted riffage all tangled up with demonic howls. But it's not just howling and screeching, the vocals sometimes emerge as a weird wailing croon, other times as a hushed whisper, while other times a mumbled moan. In fact, a few of the tracks almost sound like some weird black metal Sebadoh, super lo-fi and dripping with distortion, the vocals weary and worn, buried beneath swirling squalls of blacknoise. Others have a distinct shoegaze quality too, that is if you can imagine a shoegaze Abruptum, the drums loping and laid back, the guitars washed out and blurred, the vocals SO distorted they swallow up all the other sounds and become another layer of super saturated sound. Sometimes they even morph into fucked up harmonies, so loud and lo-fi they crackle and splinter, without losing any of their alien beauty. There are long stretches of ambience too. Crackling campfires, crickets, warm whirring synths way off in the distance, ghostly gurgled disembodied voices, whipping wind, all interwoven with tape hiss and buzzing synths, creepy noises, and all manner of sonic detritus.
Three of the tracks here are bonus tracks, recorded later, and manage to fit perfectly with the original disc. One is especially of not, as it's maybe the most melodic of the bunch, thick keyboards drift over a sea of pulsing cymbal sizzle, and barely audible guitar, the drums buried way down in the mix, the vocals growling and hissing and howling, the whole thing very dreamy and drifty and otherworldly. Until the end, when everything drops out leaving just shimmering synths, and the sounds of war, speeches, soldiers, sirens, weeping mothers, crying children, so intense and anguished and moving. Which brings us to the lyrical content. Pyha is staunchly anti-government, anti-war, anti-military, he's a pacifist and an anarchist, and has chosen black metal as the medium to express his message. The packaging is covered in images of Korean wartime atrocities, all of which is even more ironic and sad, when you learn that Pyha (now that he's old enough) is currently in the Korean Army, as military service there is compulsory.
The record closes with one of the most powerful tracks on the record. A seven+ minute blow out, as black as anything else on the disc, and definitely the fastest, as close to a blast as Pyha gets. But it's still loping and woozy. The drums and cymbals are recorded super hot and lay a gauzy layer of hiss over the proceedings, keyboards pick out a delicate minor key melody, hovering weightless like ghosts over the roiling blackened churn below. It almost sounds like Wold at times, as if there was some old 78 playing beneath the wash of black buzz. The track gets heavier and heavier, the vocals more and more demonic and monstrous, the intensity building and building, the main riff, remaining impossibly haunting and majestic as it sinks deeper and deeper into the sea of noise drenched blackness, leaving more and more of that mysterious underlying melody, to drift off and eventually fade away.
Rare is the record, black metal or otherwise, that evokes such intense emotion, that gives the listener chills. Beyond the blackness and the buzz, lies a record of impossible depth, full of emotion and passion. So much so, that it's easy to forget that it was conceived, composed and recorded entirely by a little middle school kid!
Gorgeously packaged in a 6 panel gatefold digipak. Brown and gold sepia toned, with metallic ink, the outside a tranquil Korean landscape, inside a garish gallery depicting the human cost of warfare.
After all that, it might seem like overkill, but this is, without a doubt, THE BLACK METAL RECORD OF THE YEAR. And for some of us, one of the best black metal records ever. What the fuck were you doing when you were 14 years old?!
MPEG Stream: "Two"
MPEG Stream: "Four"
MPEG Stream: "Eight"
MPEG Stream: "Ten"

V/A Living is Hard: West African Music in Britain, 1927 - 1929 (Honest Jons) 2lp 22.00
Living Is Hard. Indeed. Truer words were never spoken. The plight of Africans in Britain in the beginning of the twentieth century, was indeed one of hardship and strife, of persecution and destitution of unspeakable violence and unfettered racism. And the songs on Living Is Hard perfectly capture the spirit of the time. The anger and resentment, but also the hope and happiness, the frustration of constant harassment and the dreams of something better.
As the liner notes mention, these songs were a "disruptive late entry into the history of black music in Britain", a music that owes very little to any white listenership. A hybrid of African spirituals, blues and plantation songs, with hints of Carribean music, bits of highlife, mostly vocal, with minimal instrumentation, managing to be simultaneously complex and musically dense, but also simple and heartfelt.
A few tracks are immediately recognizable as a sort of highlife blues, simple acoustic guitar and seemingly celebratory vocals, but much of the music on Living Is Hard, is truly unique, unlike anything we've ever heard, even as fans of wondrous and mysterious world musics, there are strange acapella tracks, where the rhythms are created from grunts and mumbles, the main vocal line, strangled and guttural, peppered with occasional percussion, some tracks have a Western folk vibe, even hinting at some Morricone-ish twang, others sounds a bit like doo wop, rich harmonies and gorgeous hummed melodies, but most of the tracks here are just vocal and percussion, chanting, crooning, call and response, voices sometimes rough and raw, sometimes smooth and silky, the rhythms backing them up ranging from simple and spare to dense and tribal, so varied and moving and simply wonderful.
As with all Honest Jons releases, Living Is Hard is gorgeously packaged, with a thick book of liner notes, lots of photos, translations of the lyrics and more.
MPEG Stream: ISAAC JACKSON "Nitsi Koko"
MPEG Str