#bryon hayes

[dustedmagazine]

Listening Post: Kim Gordon

Kim Gordon has long been one of rock’s female icons, one of a tiny handful of women to get much play in Michael Azzerad’s underground-defining Our Band Could Be Your Life and a mainstay in the noise-rock monolith Sonic Youth. It’s hard to imagine that quintessential dude rock band without Gordon in front, dwarfed by her bass or spitting tranced out, pissed off verses over the storm of feedback.

Yet Gordon’s trajectory has been, if anything, even more fascinating since Sonic Youth’s demise in 2011. A visual artist first — she studied art at the Otis College of Art and Design before joining the band — she continues to paint and sculpt and create. She’s had solo art shows at established galleries in London and New York, most recently at the 303 Gallery in New York City. A veteran of indie films including Gus van Zant’s Last Days and Todd Haynes I’m Not There, she has also continued to act sporadically, appearing in the HBO series Girls and on an episode of Portlandia. Her memoir, Girl in a Band, came out in 2015.

But Gordon has remained surprisingly entrenched in indie music over the last decade. Many critics, including a few at Dusted, consider her Body Head, collaboration with Bill Nace the best of the post-Sonic Youth musical projects. The ensemble has now produced two EPs and three full-lengths. Gordon has also released two solo albums, which push her iconic voice into noisier, more hip hop influenced directions. We’re centering this listening post around The Collective, Gordon’s second and more recent solo effort, which comes out on Matador on March 8th, but we’ll likely also be talking about her other projects as well.

Intro by Jennifer Kelly

Jennifer Kelly: I missed No Home in 2019, so I was somewhat surprised by The Collective’s abrasive, beat-driven sound though I guess you could make connections to Sonic Youth’s Cypress Hill collaboration?

The more I listen to it, though, the more it makes sense to me. I’ve always liked the way Gordon plays with gender stereotypes, and “I’m a Man” certainly follows that trajectory. What are you guys hearing in The Collective?

Jonathan Shaw: I have only listened through the entire record once, but I am also struck by its intensities. Sort of silly to be surprised by that, given so many of the places she has taken us in the past: noisy, dangerous, dark. But there's an undercurrent of violence to these sounds that couples onto the more confrontational invocations and dramatizations of sex. It's a strong set of gestures. I like the record quite a bit.

Bill Meyer: I'm one of those who hold Body/Head to be the best effort of the post-Sonic Youth projects, but I'll also say that it's very much a band that creates a context for Gordon to do something great, not a solo effort. I was not so taken with No Home, which I played halfway through once upon its release and did not return to until we agreed to have this discussion. I've played both albums through once now, and my first impression is that No Home feels scattered in a classic post-band-breakup project fashion — “let's do a bit of this and that and see what sticks.” The Collective feels much more cohesive sonically, in a purposeful, “I'm going to do THIS” kind of way.

Jonathan Shaw: RE Jennifer's comment about “I'm a Man”: Agreed. The sonics are very noise-adjacent, reminding me of what the Body has been up to lately, or deeper underground acts like 8 Hour Animal or Kontravoid's less dancy stuff. Those acts skew masculine (though the Body has taken pains recently to problematize the semiotics of those photos of them with lots of guns and big dogs...). Gordon's voice and lyrics make things so much more explicit without ever tipping over into the didactic. And somehow her energy is in tune with the abrasive textures of the music, but still activates an ironic distance from it. In the next song, “Trophies,” I love it when she asks, “Will you go bowling with me?” The sexed-up antics that follow are simultaneously compelling and sort of funny. Rarely has bowling felt so eroticized.

Jennifer Kelly: I got interested in the beats and did a YouTube dive on some of the other music that Justin Raisen has been involved with. He's in an interesting place, working for hip hop artists (Lil Yachty, Drake), pop stars (Charli XCX) and punk or at least punk adjacent artists (Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Viagra Boys), but nothing I've found is as raw and walloping as these cuts.

“The Candy House” is apparently inspired by Jennifer Egan's The Candy House, which is about a technology that enables people to share memories... Gordon is pretty interested in phones and communications tech and how that's changing art and human interaction.

Andrew Forell: My immediate reaction to the beats was oh, The Bug and JK Flesh, in particular the MachineEPs by the former and Sewer Bait by the latter. Unsurprisingly, as Jonathan says, she sounds right at home within that kind of dirty noise but is never subsumed by it

Jennifer Kelly: I don't have a deep reference pool in electronics, but it reminded me of Shackleton and some of the first wave dub steppers. Also, a certain kind of late 1990s/early aughts underground hip hop like Cannibal Ox and Dalek.

Bryon Hayes: Yeah, I hear some Dalek in there, too. Also, the first Death Grips mixtape, Ex-Military.

It's funny, I saw the track title “I'm a Man,” and my mind immediately went to Bo Diddley for some reason, I should have known that Kim would flip the script, and do it in such a humorous way. I love how she sends up both the macho country-lovin’ bros and the sensitive metrosexual guys. It's brilliant!

This has me thinking about “Kool Thing”, and how Chuck D acts as the ‘hype man’ to Kim Gordon in that song. I'm pretty sure that was unusual for hip hop at the time. Kim's got a long history of messing with gender stereotypes.

Bill Meyer: Gordon did a couple videos for this record, and she starred her daughter Coco in both of them. The one for “I'm A Man” teases out elements of gender fluidity, how that might be expressed through clothing, and different kinds of watching. I found the video for “Bye Bye” more interesting. All the merchandise that's listed in the video turns out to be a survival kit, one that I imagine that Gordon would know that she has to have to get by. The protagonist of the video doesn't know that, and their unspoken moment in a car before Coco runs again was poignant in a way that I don't associate with her work. And of messing with hip hop!

Tim Clarke: “Bye Bye” feels like a companion to The Fall’s “Dr Buck’s Letter.”

Bill Meyer: From The Unutterable? I'll have to a-b them.

Tim Clarke: That’s the one.

Jonathan Shaw: All of these comments make me think of the record’s title, and the repeated line in “The Candy House”: “I want to join the collective.” Which one? The phone on the record’s cover nods toward our various digital collectives — spaces for communication and expression, and spaces for commerce, all of which seem to be harder and harder to tell apart. A candy house, indeed. Why is it pink? Does she have a feminine collective in mind? A feminine collective unconscious? The various voices and lyric modes on the record suggest that's a possibility. For certain women, and for certain men working hard to understand women, Gordon has been a key member of that collective for decades.

Jennifer Kelly: The title is also the title of a painting from her last show in New York.

The holes are cell phone sized.

You can read about the show here, but here's a representative quote: “The iPhone promises freedom, and control over communication,” she says. “It’s an outlet of self-expression, and an escape and a distraction from the bigger picture of what’s going on in the world. It’s also useful for making paintings.”

Gordon is a woman, and a woman over 70 at that — by any measure an underrepresented perspective in popular culture. However, I’d caution against reading The Collective solely as a feminist statement. “I'm a Man,” for instance, is told from the perspective of an incel male, an act of storytelling and empathy not propaganda. My sense is that Gordon is pretty sick of being asked, “What's it like to be a girl in a band?” (per “Sacred Trickster”) and would like, maybe, to be considered as an artist.

It's partly a generational thing. I'm a little younger than she is, but we both grew up in the patriarchy and mostly encountered gender as an external restriction.

As an aside, one of my proudest moments was when Lucas Jensen interviewed me about what it was like to be a freelance music writer, anonymously, and Robert Christgau wrote an elaborate critique of the piece that absolutely assumed I was a guy. If you're not on a date or getting married or booking reproductive care, whose business is it what gender you are?

There, that's a can of worms, isn't it?

Jonathan Shaw: Feminine isn't feminist. I haven't listened nearly closely enough to the record to hazard an opinion about that. More important, it seems to me the masculine must be in the feminine unconsciousness, and the other way around, too. Precisely because femininity has been used as a political weapon, it needs imagining in artistic spaces. Guess I also think those terms more discursively than otherwise: there are male authors who have demonstrated enormous facility with representing femininity. James, Joyce, Kleist, and so on. Gordon has always spoken and sung in ways that transcend a second-wave sort of feminine essence. “Shaking Hell,” “PCH,” the way she sings “I Wanna Be Your Dog.”

Jennifer Kelly: Sure, she has always been shape-shifter artistically.

The lyrics are super interesting, but almost obliterated by noise. I’m seeing a connection to our hyperconnected digital society where everything is said but it’s hard to listen and focus.

Bill Meyer: Concrete guy that I am, I’ve found myself wishing I had a lyric sheet even though her voice is typically the loudest instrument in the mix.

Andrew Forell: Yes, that sense of being subsumed in the white noise of (dis)information and opinion feels like the utopian ideal of democratizing access has become a cause and conduit of alienation in which the notion of authentic voices has been rendered moot. It feels integral to the album as a metaphor

Christian Carey: How much of the blurring of vocals (good lyrics — mind you) might involve Kim’s personal biography, I wonder? From her memoirs, we know how much she wished for a deflection of a number of things, most having to do with Thurston and the disbandment of SY.

Thurston was interviewed recently and said that he felt SY would regroup and be able to be professional about things. He remarked that it better be soon: SY at eighty wouldn’t be a good look!

Andrew Forell: And therein lies something essential about why that could never happen

Ian Mathers: I know I’m far in the minority here (and elsewhere) because I’ve just never found Sonic Youth that compelling, despite several attempts over the years to give them another chance. And for specifically finding Thurston Moore to be an annoying vocal presence (long before I knew anything about his personal life, for what it's worth). So, I’m in no hurry to see them reunite, although I do think it would be both funny and good if everyone except Moore got back together.

Having not kept up with Gordon much post-SY beyond reading and enjoying her book, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this record. After a couple of listens, I’m almost surprised how much I like it. Even though I’m lukewarm on SY’s music, she’s always been a commanding vocal presence and lyricist and that hasn’t changed here (I can echo all the praise for “I’m a Man,” and also “I was supposed to save you/but you got a job” is so bathetically funny) and I like the noisier, thornier backing she has here. I also think the parts where the record gets a bit more sparse (“Shelf Warmer”) or diffuse (“Psychic Orgasm”) still work. I've enjoyed seeing all the comparisons here, none of which I thought of myself and all of which makes sense to me. But the record that popped into my head as I listened was Dead Rider’s Chills on Glass. Similar beat focus, “thick”/distorted/noisy/smeared production, declamatory vocals. I like that record a lot, so it's not too surprising I'm digging this one.

Jennifer Kelly: I loved Sonic Youth but have zero appetite for the kind of nostalgia trip, just the hits reunion tour that getting back together would entail.

Jonathan Shaw: Yeah, no thanks to that.

RE Christian's comment: Not sure I see deflection so much as the impossibility of integration. We are all many, many selves, always have been. Digital communications interfaces and social media have just lifted it to another level of experience. Gordon sez, “I don't miss my mind.” Not so much a question of missing it in the emotional/longing sense, more so acknowledging that phrases like “my mind” have always been meaningless. Now we partition experience and identity into all of these different places, and we sign those pieces of ourselves over, to Zuck and the algorithms. We know it. We do it anyways, because it's the candy house, full of sweets and pleasures that aren't so good for us, but are really hard to resist. “Come on, sweets, take my hand...”

Bill Meyer: I would not mind hearing all of those SY songs I like again, can’t lie, although I don’t think that I’d spend Love Earth Tour prices to hear them. But given the water that has passed under the bridge personally, and the length of time since anyone in the band has collaborated creatively (as opposed to managing the ongoing business of Sonic Youth, which seems to be going pretty well), a SY reunion could only be a professionally presented piece of entertainment made by people who have agreed to put aside their personal differences and pause their artistic advancement in order to make some coin. There may be good reasons to prioritize finances. Maybe Thurston and/or Kim wants to make sure that they don’t show up on Coco’s front door, demanding to move their record or art collection into her basement, in their dotage. And Lee’s a man in his late 60s with progeny who are of an age to likely have substantial student loan debt. But The Community is just the kind of thing they’d have to pause. It feels like the work of someone who is still curious, questioning, commenting. It's not just trying to do the right commercial thing.

Justin Cober-Lake: I’m finding this one to be a sort of statement album. I’d stop short of calling it a concept album, but there seems to be a thematic center. I think a key element of the album is the way that it looks for... if not signal and noise, at least a sense of order and comprehensibility in a chaotic world. Gordon isn’t even passing judgment on the world — phones are bad, phones are good, phones make art, etc. But there’s a sense that our world is increasingly brutal, and we hear that not just in the guitars, but in the beats, and the production. “BYE BYE” really introduces the concept. Gordon’s leaving (and we can imagine this is autobiographical), but she’s organizing everything she needs for a new life. “Cigarettes for Keller” is a heartbreaking line, but she moves on, everything that makes up a life neatly ordered next to each other, iBook and medications in the same line. It reminds me of a Hemingway character locking into the moment to find some semblance of control in the chaos.

Getting back to gender, there’s a funny line at the end: one of the last things she packs is a vibrator. I'm not sure if we're to read this as a joke, a comment on the necessity of sexuality in a life full of transitory moments, as a foreshadowing of the concepts we’ve discussed, or something else. The next item (if it’s something different) is a teaser, which could be a hair care product or something sexual (playing off — or with — the vibrator). Everything's called into question: the seriousness of the track, the gender/sexuality ideas, what really matters in life. Modern gadgets, life-sustaining medicines, and sex toys all get equal rank. That tension really adds force to the song.

Coming out of “BYE BYE,” it's easy to see a disordered world that sounds extremely noisy, but still has elements we can comprehend within the noise. I don’t want to read the album reductively and I don't think it's all about this idea, but it's something that, early on in my listening, I find to be a compelling aspect of it.

#dusted magazine #listeningpost #kim gordon #the collective #jennifer kelly #jonathan shaw #bill meyer #andrew forell #bryon hayes #tim clarke #christian carey #ian mathers #justin cober-lake

[rocklandhistoryblog]

“Pretty Penny” has been designated as Rockland County’s first Literary LandmarkTM, honoring the late Helen Hayes and Charles MacArthur, owners of “Pretty Penny” from 1932-1993. It is the first such landmark recognizing two honorees at one location. Literary LandmarksTM is a program of United for Libraries, a Division of the American Library Association. The Literary LandmarksTM Register, The Empire State Center for the Book, and the Pretty Penny Literary Landmark Committee will celebrate Hayes and MacArthur and the new designation with four events.

—>The first event will be on Friday, October 7 at 8 p.m. at the Nyack Center, when Rivertown Film Society will present Helen Hayes on Film: When the First Lady of Broadway Conquered Hollywood. This evening of film clips and discussion, sponsored by Wright Bros. Realty, will be presented by the film historian John DiLeo. DiLeo charts Hayes's natural affinity for film acting and her progression from young leading lady to senior character actress. Aided by film clips spanning more than four decades, this is a cinematic celebration of the singular artistry and enduring legacy of Helen Hayes. As a bonus, the program will include clips from film versions of two stage classics—The Front Page and Twentieth Century—cowritten by Charles MacArthur and the couple's friend and

neighbor Ben Hecht. Tickets will be available at www.RivertownFilm.org.

—>The second event will be on Saturday, October 8 at 3 p.m. at “Pretty Penny,” when Joyce Bulifant, (former daughter-in-law of Hayes and MacArthur and television star) and the families of Helen Hayes and Charles MacArthur will host “Memories of Pretty Penny”, followed by a champagne reception. Space is limited at this outdoor event. Pre-paid reservations can be made at www.RocklandHistory.org.

—>The third event will be on Saturday, October 8 at 8 p.m. at the First Reformed Church, Nyack, when ArtsRock will present "Remembering Helen Hayes with Love!” a live and in-person show by Joyce Bulifant, with Bryon Sommers on piano. Bulifant will make a rare stage appearance with her one-person show filled with music, images, and personal stories about her mother-in-law, Nyack's own Helen Hayes. The show will be followed by a Q&A with Joyce Bulifant, hosted by Richard Skipper. Tickets are available at www.ArtsRock.org.

—>The final event will be on Monday, October 10 at 10:30 a.m. at the Nyack Library Community Room when The Empire State Center for the Book, and the Pretty Penny Literary Landmark Committee will dedicate the Literary LandmarkTM. All are welcome at this FREE community event. www.nyacklibrary.org

All of the Pretty Penny Literary LandmarkTM celebratory events are being presented in coordination with the Phoenix Theatre Ensemble’s Phoenix Festival: A celebration of arts & culture in the beautiful riverside town of Nyack NY. Theatre, music, & arts events through the weekends of 09/16—10/16, 2022.

Link for more info: https://www.rocklandhistory.org/event.cfm?page=964

#rockland history #local history #rocklandhistory #rockland county #nyshistory #nys history #orangetown #nyack #hudson river #hudson river valley #helen hayes #Charles MacArthur #literary landmark #literary

[anthonybwilson]

Friday News/Sports TV for 5/13/2022

Friday News/Sports TV for 5/13/2022

- [ ] 4:00am: DP World Tour: Soudal Open (GOLF) - [ ] 4:45am: PGA: AT&T Byron Nelson (ESPNPLUS) - [ ] 6:00am: CNN Newsroom with Poppy Harlow and Jim Sciutto (CNN) - [ ] 6:00am: Good Morning Arizona (KTVK) - [ ] 7:00am  Jose Diaz-Balart Reports (MSNBC) - [ ] 7:00am: First Take (ESPN) - [ ] 7:30am: LPGA: Cognizant Founders Cup (GOLF) - [ ] 8:00am: At This Hour with Kate Bolduan (CNN) - [ ] 8:00am: MSNBC Reports (MSNBC) - [ ] 9:00am: Inside Politics with John King (CNN) - [ ] 9:00am: Andrea Mitchell Reports (MSNBC) - [ ] 9:00am: SportsCenter (ESPN) - [ ] 10:00am: CNN Newsroom with Ana Cabrera (CNN) - [ ] 10:00am: MTP Daily (MSNBC) - [ ] 10:00am: FOX 10 News Now (KUTP) - [ ] 10:30am: PGA Champions: 2022 Regions Tradition (GOLF) - [ ] 11:00am: CNN Newsroom with Alisyn Camerota & Victor Blackwell (CNN) - [ ] 11:00am: Katy Tur Reports (MSNBC) - [ ] 11:00am: ABC 15 News at 11am (KNXV) - [ ] 11:00am: This Just In (ESPN) - [ ] 12:00pm: Hallie Jackson Reports (MSNBC) - [ ] 12:00pm: ABC15 News on CW61 (CW61) - [ ] 12:00pm: NBA Today (ESPN) - [ ] 1:00pm: The Lead with Jake Tapper (CNN) - [ ] 1:00pm: Deadline: White House (MSNBC) - [ ] 1:00pm: NFL Live (ESPN) - [ ] 1:00pm: PGA: AT&T Bryon Nelson (GOLF) - [ ] 2:00pm: Around The Horn (ESPN) - [ ] 2:30pm: Pardon the Interruption (ESPN) - [ ] 3:00pm: The Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer (CNN) - [ ] 3:00pm: The Beat with Ari Melber (MSNBC) - [ ] 3:00pm: PBS NewsHour (PBSYOUTUBE) * - [ ] 3:00pm: SportsCenter (ESPN) - [ ] 3:30pm: MLB Mix (MLBEXTRAINNINGS) *DTV720 - [ ] 3:30pm: MLB: Brewers at Marlins (BSWI) *DTV723 - [ ] 3:30pm: NHL on TNT Face Off (TNT) - [ ] 4:00pm: Erin Burnett OutFront (CNN) - [ ] 4:00pm: The ReidOut (MSNBC) - [ ] 4:00pm: The News with Shepard Smith (CNBC) - [ ] 4:00pm: Good Evening Arizona 4PM (KTVK) - [ ] 4:00pm: NHL Playoffs East First Round: Rangers at Penguins (TNT) - [ ] 4:00pm: MLB: Padres at Braves (APPLETVPLUS) - [ ] 4:00pm: MLB: Mariners at Mets (SNY) *DTV731 - [ ] 4:00pm: MLB: Orioles at Tigers (BSDET) *DTV728 - [ ] 4:00pm: NBA Countdown (ESPN) - [ ] 4:30pm: NBA Playoffs East Semifinals: Celtics at Bucks (ESPN) - [ ] 4:30pm: NHL Playoffs East First Round: Panthers at Capitals (TBS) - [ ] 5:00pm: Anderson Cooper 360 (CNN) - [ ] 5:00pm: All In with Chris Hayes (MSNBC) - [ ] 5:00pm: Good Evening Arizona (KTVK) - [ ] 5:00pm: MLB: Giants at Cardinals (BSMW) *DTV738 - [ ] 5:00pm: USFL: Panthers vs Bandits (USA) - [ ] 6:00pm: CNN Tonight (CNN) - [ ] 6:00pm: MSNBC Prime (MSNBC) - [ ] 6:30pm: CBS 5 News at 6:30pm (KPHO) - [ ] 6:30pm: MLB: Cubs at DBacks (APPLETVPLUS) - [ ] 6:30pm: NHL Playoffs West First Round: Flames at Stars (TNT) - [ ] 7:00pm: Don Lemon Tonight (CNN) - [ ] 7:00pm: The Last Word with Lawrence O’Donnell (MSNBC) - [ ] 7:00pm: FOX 10 XTRA News at 7PM (KUTP) - [ ] 7:00pm: NBA Playoffs West Semifinals: Grizzlies at Warriors (ESPN) - [ ] 7:00pm: MLB: Phillies at Dodgers (MLBN) - [ ] 8:00pm: The 11th Hour with Stephanie Ruhle (MSNBC) - [ ] 8:00pm: 3TV News at 8PM (KTVK) - [ ] 9:00pm: CNN Newsroom Live (CNN) - [ ] 9:00pm: 3TV News at 9PM (KTVK) - [ ] 9:00pm: NHL on TNT Postgame (TNT) - [ ] 9:30pm: SportsCenter with Scott Van Pelt (ESPN) - [ ] 10:00pm: 3TV News at 10pm (KTVK)

[probablyvampirerpgideas]

If it's not too much trouble , could I ask @blog owner to state ten things bryon and vician respectively love , and then ten things they hate ?

I absolutely love this question thank you so much :DWe'll start with Byron because this is their blog space after all.Ten things Byron Lovelace loves:-Old buildings. The more in tact and held together they are the better. Ruins are nice but old beautiful mansions with sculpting in the stonework is their ideal sort of building.-Gold leaf as a means of decoration. Hey, nothing says wealthy like a good ol' leather bound book trimmed with carefully placed gold leaf.-bats! Love thoss flying bastards!-cats!! But not in their house. Too many expensive things to break in there.-Antique furniture because it's all beautiful and reminds them of the sort of things they aspired to own as a child.-In the rare occasion they get to sit down and eat anything other than blood, they adore leek and potato soup. It feels and tastes like home and is a welcome reminder of their human life.-Aesthetically pleasing people. As far as love goes as an aroace person, they adore being around and looking at pretty people because it's almost like an aspirational "I want to be like you!" Sort of thing-Tea! Loose leaf tea of unique and exotic blend!-Lace. Lace on clothes, lace on furniture, lace as decoration, Byron just loves that lace!-old cheesy romance novels because they know they're absolute trash but it's so much fun to just read and be able to predict precitable plots.Ten things Byron Lovelace hates:-the sun. That goes without saying.-they really dislike contrasting colours. They do not go well, they aren't aesthetically pleasing at all! Get that purple away from that yellow!!-infact anything that purposely tries to be unpleasing to ths eye either for ~shock value~ or to purposely throw one off their senses are Bad in Byron's books.-loud noises. This goes beyond a mere ahout this is things like motorbikes revving up and punt guns going off in the distance.-they hate the smell of wild garlic. From what they remember of their childhood their home was by or in a forest, and that forest grew wild garlic every sodding year of their life and the smell is just nautiating to them-infact they also really hate cinnamon, but they don't eat much human food as it is so this is no longer and issue for them.-public transport. Byron alwayd either traveled by foot or by a peivate carriage or car, when public bus services first started up the really didnt like them.-they do not like being asked questions quite personal to them beyond their flamboyant pretty-thing-loving persona. -heights. Whats this? A vampire who could fly through magical abilities that doesnt like heights? Good thing turning into a bat is optional!-dont you dare ask them to speak welsh when they're trying to sound english they will bite u Things Vician Carter loves:-His clothes. His entire wadrobe is comprised of two hundred years odd of the development of his identity and he loves being able to wear so many unique clothes.-Being able to help other people. Not just in a "I helped you with this chore" sort of way but being able to give advice, to boost people's confidence, to answer questiond and help people learn- that's what makes him very happy.-in terms of his past partners? The most his relationships go into are queerplatonic relationships, so in terms of the people he was closest to in that regard, Gerald and Caron are the closest to his heart.-Peacocks. They mean quite a bit to him symbolically but also they are just very beautiful birds.-Vician loves dogs aswell, but never got to own one as a child. He can't get enough of his current dog, a white borzoi named Blanca.-sweets! Cakes! Pastries! Vician is supposed go be a dignified and grown up lord but he can't help but get excited about sweets-He loves queer litterature, and the further away from home it was written the better, he is so in love with queer history and the experiences of lgbtqia+ people from arounf the world because he already contributes so much of his past, he loves learning more about people-infacf people in general are just Very Good to him. He loves people because people are so much fun to be around.-Looking after his appearance. As vain as that might sound he spent such a long time uhming and aahing about what he should and shouldn't do with his general appearance and it took him so long to learn that none of that matters and that he should do what feels right for him. He's allowed to do something that makes him feel handsome and pretty and he loves that.-Vician loves peaceful moments, moments that may not last long but allow him to absorb evrything around him in a possible way, he needs to be able to be calm because his life is so hectic. And so when he does feel peaceful it makes him very happy.Ten theings Vician Carter hates:-Jean. Without a doubt, Jean Ankerburough is THE worst thing that ever happened to him. He hates him with all of his being, words can not describe how evil that man is.-James Carter. This is Vician's uncle, also an absolute asshole who Vician had every reason to hate.-Infact as much as he greatly appreciates the 19th century aesthetics he hated living up in that time. He hated victorian society, he hates how people romanticize this era as a beautiful and dapper time.-He hates getting ill. Not to go into too much detail but he blames illness as a factor for a terrible thing happening to him, so whenever he displays symptons if a cold or flu he immediatdly panics.-whoever the fuck bit him. He never actually knes their name or face well enough to identify them.-he hates that we haven't done enough yey a society in so many areas it would be a whole list it's self to discuss.-i wanna make a specific mention about how much he hayes the 50 shades books. Because he'd very open about his sex life to his friends when this book suposedly about bdsm comes out, that's the only book he was given for like half a year by different people. And he tried fo read it, he really did, but so much of it made him feel so unwell he just couldn't go on. -Vician hates the casual sort of misunderstanding of a lot of things linked to his identity and self. When he over hears ppl misusing words or repeating harmful stereotypes as jokes or as fact it makes his blood boil.-Vician hates being alone. Not in an "everyone MUST pay attention to me all the time!" Way but more of a "I don't like it when I'm around people who won't understand my issues" way. -he hates Sarah, she was like a business partner of his in the modern era who directly caused harm to himself and Caron, his parter, so she's up there with the List of Bad People.

[theclixuebitch]

[ BRYON EVANS ]

Has kept a ‘love letter’ from Cas without telling Ellie

Has had CFS

Wants to play hockey again when the time’s ready

[ EZRA CALDWELL ]

Is British but moved to LA where he met Alex

Returned to London and started a rapper career

Now he is back in LA to promote himself further

Knows the gang via their trip to Ellie’s cabin

Is not a big fan of Mitch

[ FIANNA JONES ]

Is Jared’s go-to hairstylist

[ GARETH HAYES ]

Has embarrassingly many female contacts on his phone

Is CEO of ‘Sessions’ along with Cody

His many business trips have gotten him into a lot of heavy drinking and one night stands

Is finally back with Jackie

When the time’s right, Gareth’s gonna go on a ‘business trip’ but really he’s gonna visit Jackie’s dad to ask for permission to marry her

[ GEMMA MILLER ]

Met Jared through her brother and DayDream Magazine

She can’t stand Gareth cause of what he did to Jackie

[ MITCH HARRIS ]

Is still in a relationship with Emma

Has feelings for Char and doesn’t want other guys to be around her

Is an App Founder and earns a lot of money doing pretty much nothing

[ THOMAS MASON ]

Ice hockey player + Barney’s

Best bud with Ryan

Live fast, love hard, die young kind of person 

Fitness junkie

Sorta under Char’s spell but not in a possessive way

[ YOSI SAYEED ]

Close friend / stoner buddy / FWB with Toby

Lives through selling drugs

Doesn’t have a family

#the clique: headcanon #gonna separate them at some point

[eildotcom]

JAZZ Vinyl & CDs at eil.com this week includes Bryon Morris, Paul Gonsalves, Art Tatum, Art Pepper & More….

JAZZ Vinyl & CDs at eil.com this week includes Michael Gibbs, Thad Jones, Tubby Hayes, Ornette Coleman & More….

Ain’t nothing but a jazz thing here at eil Towers with some top jazz rare vinyl and CDs coming through the doors over the past week, here’s a few to whet your jazz whistle, see them all here. If you want to keep up to date with all the latest jazz vinyl and CDs why not subscribe to our weekly newsletter, info here – Expect to find…… Original pressed jazz rarities… BYRON MORRIS & UNITY Vibrations,…

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#CDcollector #collectingvinyl #eil.com #eildotcom #Japanesevinyl #jazz #jazzcollector #rarevinyl #recordcollecting #recordcollection #recordcollector #vinyl #vinylrecords

[dustedmagazine]

Slept Ons: 2023

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter

If you write for Dusted, you listen to music all the time and you try, at least within your general area of interest, to stay current with what’s current. Ask any of our significant others, and they’ll say we listen to too much music, to which we inevitably reply “What’s that, this ‘too much’ you speak of?” We listen to music while we’re eating, while we’re working, while we’re exercising, while we’re driving from one place to another, even while we’re brushing our teeth sometimes; though, admittedly, the sound quality is not that great in the bathroom.

Even so, we miss things. Here, in what has become an annual tradition, we revisit some of the albums that slipped away in one fashion or another, the ones that we kept putting off until it was too late, the ones we somehow didn’t catch wind of until well into January, the ones we discovered tardily on other people’s lists and year-end podcasts and radio shows. So here are our late finds, a favorite or two each that we never got the chance to write about. Fortunately, unlike bread and fresh fruit and bunches of cilantro, albums don’t go bad if you let them sit for a while.

Die Enttäuschung und Alexander Von Schlippenbach — Monk’s Casino Live At Au Topsi Pohl (Two Nineteen)

This record wasn’t so much slept on as patiently sleuthed. Die Enttäuschung, the long-running German quartet (their name translates as The Disappointment, an appellation that says more about their sense of humor than the quality of their ever-buoyant reimagining of bebop and early free jazz) started selling it at gigs in the spring of 2023. I bided my time, and when I made it to Berlin last fall, scoring a copy was on my agenda. To this day, the record and the internet are near strangers; while you can buy it from Bandcamp, there’s no download, streaming or videos. So, you’ll have to just take it from me that Die Enttäuschung’s reunion with now-octogenarian pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach will take wrinkles off your brow. The first time that these musicians recorded together as Monk’s Casino, back in 2005, they performed every one of Thelonious Monk’s compositions over three CDs; pith was essential. The repertoire hasn’t changed this time, but the approach is looser. Crammed into the intimate confines of the now-shuttered Au Topsi Pohl just as Omicron started ruining parties, the five musicians goose the tempos, spike the solos with impertinence, and veer around Monk’s sharp angles with a combination of intimate familiarity and belt-busting abandon.

Bill Meyer

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter — SAVED! (Perpetual Flame Ministries)

Not slept on so much as avoided— and why, at this point I am not entirely sure. When I saw Kristin Hayter perform under her previous Lingua Ignota moniker back in December of 2022, she opened with a set of devotional songs on piano, a variety of metallic objects set and chains draped across the instrument’s interior string works. It was extraordinary, and SAVED! features the same basic set of raw, austere elements: that prepared piano, Hayter’s remarkable voice and the problematics of faith. The avoidance may stem from my own fraught relations to the sort of grim Protestantism Hayter reimagines; I spend some time around fire-and-brimstone Baptism as a child, and it left a mark on me. She wove some of that language and those textures into the excellent Lingua Ignota record Sinner Get Ready, but there they were much more symbolic, and largely couched in specific fundamentalisms (Amish and Mennonite) that distanced them somewhat. The sounds and spiritual gestures on SAVED! are a good deal more familiar to me, and they haunt. Likely the haunting is the point. Certainly “All of My Friends Are Going to Hell” and “I Know His Blood Can Make Me Whole” smolder and then burn with varieties of hellfire I have smelled before. One can also hear those songs more metaphorically, and “I Will Be with You Always” (the best thing on the record) is replete with images and intensities that call to multiple levels of meaning, simultaneously and sublimely. SAVED! is a hard record for me to listen to, and that’s why I have come, somewhat belatedly, to prize it so highly.

Jonathan Shaw

Illusion of Safety — Pastoral (Korm Plastics)

Daniel Burke has been carefully and consistently nurturing his Illusion of Safety project for 40 years, and I’ve been embarrassingly ignorant of the output until now. Burke released multiple audio artifacts in 2023, including a 40th anniversary ten-cassette box set, so choosing a single album to write about for the Slept On column was a daunting undertaking. Pastoral is unique in that it shows off a more delicate and expansive side of the Illusion of Safety oeuvre. It’s also one of the few music-focused objects that the stalwart Korm Plastics label has released in years; the imprint focuses on the written word these days. Sonically, Burke has established a series of vignettes that follow a similar pattern. The music flows from short, sharp attacks into lengthy sustained quietude. Burke unleashes his jarring, frantic salvos both percussively and synthetically, and these brief but unsettling periods morph into slowly churning drone swarms. Given that this is just one example of Burke’s sonic vernacular, I’m excited to hear more. Thankfully, when it comes to Illusion of Safety, I’ve been a veritable Rip Van Winkle.

Bryon Hayes

Malla — Fresko (Solina)

So slept on was Malla Malmivaara’s second solo album that even the normally reliable Beehype missed it, but even if you did happen to notice its inclusion on my midyear list, overstating how well-crafted and immersive Fresko’s dance-pop tracks are is hard to do. It makes sense given she’s better known for her acting career, but Malla’s been in the Finnish music game for a long time, too — first in the short-lived mid-aughts house trio Elisabeth Underground, then as herself with 2019’s “Sabrina” single (which got a Jori Hulkkonen remix, a guy who once redid M83) that ended up paving the way for her self-titled 2021 debut full-length. Despite using similar synth arpeggios and a healthy dose of vocal reverb as she did on Malla, Fresko is a little bit darker, moodier, more down in it. Lead single “Moi” (“hi” in English) tells the tale, its perfectly crafted video full of young Rolf Ekroth models doing things like looking impossibly cool in ridiculous outfits and having fashion shows with ATVs in snowy back alley Helsinki parking lots are a perfect marriage of audio and video, images and a melody burned in my brain the moment I saw it. It is very much a dance record flush with tech-house tweaks and no grander artistic ambitions, but Malla’s barely crested 40; now that she’s pledged more time to her music career, it’s entirely possible Fresko is but a warmup for something bolder — and even if it’s not, you could do much worse than a third album full of body movers like this. Hi is right.

Patrick Masterson

Kevin Richard Martin – Black (Intercranial)

Ostensibly a eulogy to Amy Winehouse, Kevin Richard Martin’s Black is a deeply humane expression of isolation, loss and grief. Built from the ground up, the bass deep and warm, swathes of glacial arpeggiated synths and beats that hint at the club. Notes echo and ripple away to create silhouettes of solitude, a tangible manifestation of absence. Despite the deep weight of his music, Martin imbues Black with an incredible delicacy. His abstract architecture allows the mind to roam and the listener to connect with emotional truths. It’s the balance Martin finds between the particular and universal that gives Black it’s power. In the strutting bassline of “Camden Crawling” smeared with narco/alcoholic fuzz, the looming threat of “Blake’s Shadow” and the bleary saxophone in “Belgrade Meltdown” there are the faintest echoes of Winehouse’s sound which emerge from the depths of Martin’s echo chambers. A work of terrible sadness, great beauty, empathy and comfort.

Andrew Forell

Derek Monypeny — Cibola (2182 Recording Company)

Cibola eased into the world as 2022 turned into 2023, but it took me nearly a year to get to it. Monypeny is a confirmed westerner, having lived in Arizona, Oregon, and (currently) the California desert, and an awareness of both the wrongfulness and the good fortune of living in that neck of the woods infuses Cibola, which is named for one of the American southwest’s legendary cities of gold (helpful hint; if you ever encounter a conquistador looking for gold, tell them it’s somewhere else). Monypeny alternates between guitar, shahi baaja, and on electric autoharp the LP’s seven tracks, and Kevin Corcoran contributes time-stopping metal percussion to one of them. The music likewise toggles between stark evocations of space and swirling submersions into nether states. In either mode, Monypeny effectively suggests the gorgeous immensity and pitiless history of the land around him.

Bill Meyer

The Sundae Painters — S-T (Flying Nun)

One minute, The Sundae Painters are churning wild screes of noisy guitar, the next they construct airy psychedelic pop songs of a rare unstudied grace. The band is a super group of sorts — Paul Kean and Kaye Woodward of the Bats, Alex Bathgate of the Tall Dwarfs and the late Hamish Kilgour of the Clean — convening in loose-limbed, joyful mayhem in songs that glisten and shimmer and roar. “Hollow Way” roils thick, muddy textures of drone up from the bottom, the slippery bent notes of sitar (that’s Bathgate) and Woodward’s diaphanous vocals floating free of a visceral murk. “Aversion” lets unhinged guitar shards fly over the thump of grounding drums as Kilgour chants inscrutable poetry. The two HAP tracks, I and II, stretch out in locked-in, psychotropic grooves, relentless forward motion somehow dissolving into an endless ecstatic now. This full-length, sadly the only one we’ll ever have from the Sundae Painters now that Kilgour is gone, is as good as anything that its esteemed participants ever did in their more famous bands, and that’s saying a lot.

Jennifer Kelly

U SCO — Catchin’ Heat (Self Released)

Here’s the extent of what I currently know: Someone I have on Facebook posted a link to it as one of his favorite records of the year, and someone I don’t know responded that they bought a copy of the cassette before the first track even finished. U SCO are Jon Scheid (bass), Ryan Miller (guitar), and Phil Cleary (Drums) and they are from and/or based in Portland Oregon. According to Discogs and Bandcamp Catchin’ Heat is the first thing they’ve released since 2016. That’s it! I started listened to this with the same box-checking, due diligence energy I tend to have for the dozen or so records I hear about one way or another after I’ve already done my year-end writing; most of them, every year, I don’t even make it through one play (the fatigue has fully set in by this point in the process). But sure enough before the end of that first track, I knew this was going to have to be the record I slept on. It’s perfectly structured, with extra-long, absolute blowouts beginning and ending the record, the second and second-last tracks being the two shortest and the only moments of relative calm, and the middle two making up a strong core that both brings in some elements not found elsewhere on Catchin’ Heat (the vocals on “trrrem”) and is just the most straightforward version of the absolute burners U SCO can clearly summon up on command (“woe dimension”). As great and arresting as that opening track is, though, the closing “abyssal hymn” might be the real highlight here, bringing in clarinet and saxophone to add a whole new layer of skronk to what they’re cooking. I’ve listened to this record about 10 times in a couple of days, and they deserve to sell out of that run of cassettes.

Ian Mathers

#dusted magazine #yearend 2023 #slept ons #Die Enttäuschung und Alexander Von Schlippenbach #bill meyer #Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter #jonathan shaw #illusion of safety #bryon hayes #malla #patrick masterson #kevin richard martin #andrew forell #derek monypeny #jennifer kelly #the sundae painters #Ian mathers #U SCO

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 10, Number 2

Ballister

It’s a leap year, so we all get an extra 24 hours to listen to February music.  Why not try some of these selections from our endless piles of when-i-get-to-its?  We’ve got unhinged beatmakers and noise-addled Canadians, smashing, grabbing jazz men and psychedelic post-punk.  And really a lot more.  February always seems long.  This year it’s even more extended.  Use your time wisely.  Play records. 

This month’s contributors include Patrick Masterson, Ian Mathers, Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Tim Clarke, Jennifer Kelly, Jonathan Shaw, Jim Marks and Andrew Forell. 

8ruki — POURquoi!! (33 Recordz)

This ain’t your mother’s TTC. Bilingual Parisian 8ruki takes most of his cues from Atlanta, acting with a whole lotta Whole Lotta Red in mind and squeezing 22 songs into his third album — about right for contemporary hip-hop in this vein, which frequently abandons ideas after less than two minutes and leaves a trail of incomplete sketches in its wake; like others his age, 8ruki has evolved to consider this less a bug (especially for stans forever thirsty for the next “project”) than a feature, the default mode of working. I don’t know what good it would do to comment on a song called “Andrew Tate!!” or “Elon Musk!!” at this stage other than to suggest the guy’s just being (what the French call) a provocateur, but peek elsewhere and you’ll find an unexpected beat switch on “VAris//PIENna,” not to mention a world-shrinking reference to the Golden State Warriors; the high-pitched squeaks of “CA$h!!” and “GIVENCHY MARgiela!”; the string sample and rolling bass of “EDQuer!!”; and a whole lot more to enjoy. Ignore the annoying tendency to turn caps off halfway through a song title; this is a fun record with a lot going on that’s even better if you more than half understand it.

Patrick Masterson

ALL HANDS_MAKE LIGHT — “Darling The Dawn” (Constellation)

The credits for this duo’s second release are deceptively simple; Ariel Engle (La Force, Broken Social Scene) as just “voice” and Efrim Manuel Menuck (Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Thee Silver Mt Zion) as just “noise.” But there are whole worlds contained in voice and noise, and there’s a sonic, emotional, and political complexity here that makes it feel much weightier and more elaborate than the work of any two people. (It also had one of the best song titles of last year in “We Live on a Fucking Planet and Baby That’s the Sun.”) There are distinct songs here, even some refrains, but the whole of “Darling The Dawn” also feels like one long ebbing and flowing movement, culminating in lovely, shattered grandeur with the closing one-two punch of “Anchor”/“Lie Down in Roses Dear.” Shoegaze without guitars (although not without occasional strings or drums, from Jessica Moss on violin and Liam O’Neill, respectively), emotional noise music, kosmiche played in a paupers’ graveyard; it’s hard to know what to call what ALL HANDS_MAKE LIGHT does, other than impressive. Maybe voice and noise is enough description after all.

Ian Mathers

Ballister — Smash And Grab (Aerophonic)

In Chicago, the smash and grab game is strong. People aren’t just breaking windows but driving vehicles through them. Ballister apply that spirit of aggressive enterprise to performance on this memento of saxophonist Dave Rempis, cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm and drummer Paal Nilssen-Love’s reunion at the Catalytic Sound Festival in Chicago in December, 2022. The reeds wail and probe, the strings splinter and scrape, the drums smash rhythm in the air and reshape them. And that’s just in the first few minutes. Over the course of the set, they find ways to apply that assertive spirit to quieter passages and slower passages, fashioning rough thickets and inconsolable laments from the same rough material. While Dusted does not recommend literal application of the album’s title when acquiring it, we confidently predict that you’ll find the record sticking to your fingers, obliging you to return it to the playback device for another go around.

Bill Meyer

Cuneiform Tabs — Cuneiform Tabs (Sloth Mate)

The Sloth Mate label is the psychedelic tendril sprouting from the flourishing vine that is the modern Bay Area post-punk scene.  There’s certainly an affiliation with Famous Mammals, Children Maybe Later and others of that ilk, but there’s a tendency to stray from traditional idioms that is unique to the Sloth Mate catalog.  Violent Change, headed up by the imprint’s owner Matt Bleyle, is at the center of this sub-underground cabal, coming across like a garage punk band noisily banging out Face to Face-era Kinks jams after gobbling some mind-altering flora.  Sterling Mackinnon’s The False Berries on the other hand is a lo-fi ambient electronic project that recalls the early beat-inclusive work of Christian Fennesz.  Bleyle and Mackinnon collaborate remotely under the Cuneiform Tabs moniker (the latter musician is based in London, England).  The cross-pollination works incredibly well, with the most listenable aspects of each unit rising to the forefront.  When it appears, Mackinnon’s Dan Bejar-meets-Marc Bolan warble acts as a foil for Bleyle’s deeper crooning.  Similarly, the former’s atmospheric tendencies highlight the beautiful melodies hidden beneath the latter’s noise-baked tunesmithery.  Cuneiform Tabs’ psychoactive sonorities require work to decipher, but the endeavor is certainly worthwhile.       

Bryon Hayes

Mia Dyberg Trio — Timestretch (Clean Feed)

It’s tempting to take the title of Timestretch ironically, since this Scandinavian trio compacts a lot of action into 43.18.  There are 14 tracks, all but three composed by bandleader and alto saxophonist Dyberg. But more likely, it addresses this paradox; while the music never feels like it’s in a hurry, there’s a fair bit going on. Tonally, Dyberg shifts easily between slightly sour and just sweet enough, and her phrasing is mobile, but never busy. On a few unaccompanied tracks, she unburdens herself more directly, mourning for those laid low by conflict. Bassist Asger Thomsen anchors the music with stark, strategically placed notes, and adds dimension with occasional sparse, bowed comments.  But it’s drummer Simon Fochhammer who gives the music shape, sometimes with a quick rustle, other times by building an eventful structure around his partners.

Bill Meyer

Kali Malone — All Life Long (Ideologic Organ)

Swedish composer and organist Kali Malone takes a rigorous, structured approach to making music, crafting deliberately pared-back and laser-focused pieces that make the listener acutely aware of the shifting harmonic dynamics within thick layers of sound. This 78-minute album presents an intimidating edifice to a casual listener, but it is organized to allow curious immersion in more easily digestible sections. The longest tracks are organ pieces stretching to around 10 minutes in duration, aching with melancholy. However, there are also shorter vocal and brass pieces that deviate away from held drones into more spacious, overlapping progressions that are, on occasion, almost buoyant. All Life Long feels like music for a less easily distracted age; to be patient enough to bear witness to its full, solemn unfolding requires commitment, but how often do you hear music this awe-inspiringly pure?

Tim Clarke

 Michael Nau — Accompany (Karma Chief)

Accompany rides the line between cosmic country and garden variety indie pop, its gentle melancholy enlivened by radiant runs of twanging guitar. “It’s an impossible life to get over,” Michael Nau croons in “Painting a Wall,” sounding beaten down but not quite broken, grounded in the ordinary but yearning for transcendence. Nau, you might remember, fronted the indie chamber pop Page France in the early aughts and the slightly more countrified Cotton Jones in the late ones.  This fifth solo album hits its peak in plaintive “Shape-Shifting,” where an otherworldly echo sheathes both Nau’s voice and the rumble of piano, and a glow suffuses everything, making it more.

Jennifer Kelly

Note — Impressions of a Still Life EP (The North Quarter)

Manchester’s Note hasn’t been around all that long — the earliest traces of his Soundcloud only reach back to October of 2021 — but just within the last year, he’s demonstrated a knack for fusing airy, sultry R&B moods with the breaks n’ bass of UK dance music’s storied past. Late January’s Impressions of a Still Life EP out via The North Quarter imprint, helmed by Dutch producer Lenzman (himself a veteran of labels like Metalheadz, Nu-Directions and Fokus), is another fine example: Aside from the stirring “Vespertine” that debuted last summer and features poet and spoken word artist Aya Dia, plus “Cold Nights” that came in November, Note fills out the EP with three additional songs of varying speed and mood. The best might be “EVR,” which again features a vocalist, this time singer-songwriter Feeney. Employing deep bass, fluttering percussion and featherweight piano flourishes, the production here is top-notch Brit-inflected R&D&B. Watch this space.

Patrick Masterson

Plaza — Adult Panic (Self-Release)

The novelist and rock critic (and one-time Dusted writer) Michael Fournier spent the pandemic on Cape Cod with his wife Becca, he learning the bass and she the drums.  Adult Panic collects 11 spiked and minimalist cuts from this experiment, almost entirely instrumental (there’s a shouted refrain on “(The Real) Mr. Hotdog”) and rife with lockdown agitation. The drums are pretty basic, a skitter of high-hat with snare on the upbeats, but the bass parts wander and jitter intriguingly. The title track has a Slint-ish post-rock open-ended-ness, repeated riffs left to linger and shift in the air. “The Tomb of Santa Claus” moves faster and more insistently, letting surf-like bent notes flare from rickety architectures. The whole experience is rather dour and claustrophobic, right up until the end when “(The Real) Mr. Hotdog” clatters into earshot and the two Fourniers seem to be, finally, having some fun.

Jennifer Kelly

Caroline Polachek — Desire, I Want to Turn to You: Everasking Edition (Perpetual Novice)

I’m not gonna sit here and tell you all about how big Caroline Polachek’s 2023 was; if you were paying any attention to the conversation, you already know Desire, I Want to Turn to You was universally, justifiably acclaimed. The Everasking Edition tacks on seven additional songs, five fresh out the box, one an acoustic rendition of “I Believe” and one a cover. Regarding the latter: Anyone paying attention to the machinations of the modern music business will know the name Jaime Brooks, who was half of Elite Gymnastics and now works as Default Genders in addition to unflinching commentary on whatever the fuck is going on with Billboard charts and the ugly realities of how no one’s getting Spotify royalties. “Coma” was originally theirs from Main Pop Girl 2019, a beautiful, delicately skipping adrenaline rush of a love song. Polachek doesn’t radically reinvent what’s already great; instead, she leaves the music alone and takes ownership of the rendition with her lower pitch and breathy delivery. A heartfelt nightcap on an imperial year, you couldn’t have scripted that Valentine’s Day release any more perfectly.

Patrick Masterson

Proton Burst — La Nuit (I, Voidhanger)

When the wife of storied French comics artist Phillipe Druillet died in 1975, Druillet poured his grief and rage into an idiosyncratic graphic narrative, La Nuit (1976); it’s full of mutant biker gangs, Druillet’s signature fever-dream architectural forms and hair-raising violence. French thrash metal weirdos Proton Burst loved the book, and in 1994 they produced an album-length project, part response, part soundtrack to the comic’s maniacal intensities. I, Voidhanger has given that Proton Burst record a deluxe reissue, including the original music, an extended live performance of it from 1995 and a booklet including eye-popping images from Druillet’s comic and an essay. If you’re in this for the music, the real treat is the live set, which is nearly as unhinged as Druillet’s illustrations. The band rages, rants, foments and froths—and is that a harp? Who knows. Like the original graphic narrative, what matters here is the volatility of the feeling tone, more so than any sense-making (or sonic) throughway. Lose yourself in the violence of it. Maybe that feeling of dislocation gets closest to the irrational agony of loss Druillet drew La Nuit in the teeth of, some 50 years ago.

Jonathan Shaw

Mariano Rodriguez — Exodo (self-released)

Mariano Rodriguez is an Argentinian guitarist in the Takoma school tradition with a large and high-quality back catalog. He often focuses on playing with a slide but is equally adept at playing without one and sometimes incorporates experiments with sound, as on Huesos Secos (2020), and fuller traditional instrumentation, as on Praise the Road (2017), into his recordings. Exodo, released late last year, is a set of mainly guitar soli. The playing is typically inspired, impressive without being flashy, and the compositions are tuneful and well-developed. Included is a 12-string anthem (“Lazaro”), Rodriguez’s signature slide work (such as on “The Desterrados”), bluesy 6-string meditations (“Diaspora”), and a couple of experiments with studio effects and overdubs (“The River and the Blind”) and drone (“Mother of the Road”). Over all, Exodo is a fine set of tunes that flows cohesively.

Jim Marks

Twin Tribes — Pendulum (Beso de Muerte Records)

Pendulum by Twin Tribes

It’s unclear precisely which tribes are twinned here, but if the music on Pendulum is any indication, it’s the deathrock freaks (with their long-standing romance of moldering, undead bodies) and the coldwave kids (who like to dance in place, furiously, disaffectedly, bodies frosty for entirely different reasons). Twin Tribes hails from the bastion of moody electronic music that is Brownville, TX, and somehow these Latinx fellows have managed to survive their local cultural climate long enough to release three LPs, a live tape and a whole bunch of singles and remixes. Pendulum refines the essential sonic template laid down in 2019’s Ceremony: tuneful, shimmery synths; snappy, brittle rhythm tracks; baritone vocals about zombies at the disco. If that sounds like fun, it surely is—but you’ll have a hard time convincing the kids in black eye makeup to crack anything like a smile. This reviewer can’t help it. The songs are too good, the vibes are way too goofily gravid. Dance, you flesh-eating misfits, dance.

Jonathan Shaw

Volksempfänger — Attack of Sound (Cardinal Fuzz / Feeding Tube)

Attack Of Sound by Volksempfänger

Attack of Sound’s swirling boy-girl harmonies instantly call to mind shoegaze luminaries Slowdive, but Volksempfänger’s noise-strewn guitar latticework is more aligned with The Jesus and Mary Chain.  Furthermore, the Dutch duo’s melodic flavor is as sweet as 1960s AM radio.  Ajay Saggar (Bhajan Bhoy) and Holly Habstritt combine these disparate sonic strands to create tidy noise pop gems, which they wrap in Phil Spector sonics.  The wall of sound approach imbues each song with a pulsating thrum.  This is the beating heart of their sound, underpinning the delightful vocal harmonies, shimmering guitar melodies, and waves of coruscating feedback.  The pair attains a balance between saccharine and savory aromas: dream pop wistfulness (“What the Girl Does” and “Your Gonna Lose Hard”) interchanges with propulsive garage rock (“How We Made It Seem” and “Damned & Drowned”).  The album closes out with the kaleidoscopic psychedelia of “You’ve Lost It,” introducing yet another aspect of Volksempfänger’s oeuvre.  This last-minute shift in mood adds a quirky sense of quietude to an otherwise exhilarating journey.   

Bryon Hayes

Ian Wellman — The Night the Stars Fell (Ash International)

The Night The Stars Fell by Ian Wellman

Recorded in the fire swept forests and deserts of Southern California, Ian Wellman’s The Night the Stars Fell plays like a Disintegration Loops for natural disasters. Wellman’s treated field recordings encourage the listener to subsume themselves in the natural rhythm of the wind that fanned the wildfires much like Basinski’s seminal work. While Disintegration Loops drew its potency from the association with 9/11, Wellman’s project is a more deliberate meditation on destruction. He coats his field recordings of deteriorating human structures — railcars, homes — and landscape ambience with short-wave radio static and decaying tape loops. There’s a concentration on both the violence of the destruction and the desolation of the aftermath. Huge swells of sound are interspersed with howls of wind, coruscating swathes of static and the creak and crank of burnt timber both natural and manufactured. The Night the Stars Fell is an absorbing evocation of nature’s power. 

Andrew Forell

Wharfer — Postboxing (Self-Release)

Postboxing by Wharfer

Wharfer’s Kyle Wall has long made the kind of shadowy, pared down indie-folk singer/songwriter music that elicits comparisons to Bill Callahan and Will Oldham. This time out, however, he ditches vocals and verse chorus structure entirely and enlists Chuck Johnson (pedal steel), Ian O’Hara (acoustic bass) and Duncan Wickel (violin) for a set of ambient, piano-forward reflections. These tracks are quietly riveting as, like “Wishing Well in White Noise,” the blend the chalky, elegiac tones of the piano’s upper registers with limpid pools of sustained pedal steel. Not quite ambient, the piece swirls and rounds to its own subtle rhythms, a faint thunk of bass ordering it forward. “Alto” brings the long, bowed vibrations of violin into the mix, then a sprightly sprinkle of pizzicato strings. And in the title track, a ritual voice flickers in and out of focus, but only as tone and texture. The piano carries the narrative, as string washes build and bass notes drop in and seagulls cry in the distance. It’s a subtle but powerful voice on its own, and you don’t miss the words one bit. 

Jennifer Kelly

#dusted magazine #dust #8ruki #patrick masterson #all hands make light #ian mathers #ballister #bill meyer #cuneiform tabs #bryon hayes #mia dyberg #kali malone #tim clarke #michael nau #jennifer kelly #note #plaza #caroline polachek #proton burst #jonathan shaw #mariano rodrigues #jim marks #twin tribes #Volksempfänger #ian wellman #wharfer

[dustedmagazine]

Kevin Drumm — OG23 (Streamline)

On OG23, Kevin Drumm simultaneously plumbs the deep seas and tumbles through outer space. Incidentally, both environments are potentially lethal; the ocean’s pressure will squish our bodies, and the vacuum of the cosmos will tear them apart. Sounds pleasant, right? Drumm thinks the concept is worth probing. With a wry smile, he’s placed a broken-down submarine right in the middle of the album’s cover. Sadly, there isn’t a damaged spaceship on the other side, but the point is obvious: these sounds evoke uncontrolled motion, existential dread, and the ironic beauty within that which threatens our survival. To borrow a concept from Harry Sword’s tome on drone music Monolithic Undertow, Drumm has created a “sonic womb.”

Drumm originally posted these multi-dimensional meanderings on his Bandcamp page in 2022. The transitory emanations are singular within his extensive catalog, and thus the sounds begged for a physical release. Enter Christoph Heemann with his Streamline label and the mastering expertise of Drumm’s longtime pal Jim O’Rourke: the ghost in the machine is now alive and it has scratched its sinister signature into vinyl.

Situating any new release within Drumm’s oeuvre is an arduous task. Between his overflowing Bandcamp catalog and his physical output, he has hundreds of releases. Drumm’s vast body of work is also a multi-dimensional continuum, morphing based on his chosen tone generating apparatus. He delivers barely perceptible hum as seriously as he does meditative drones, agitated mechanical clatter, and punishing harsh noise.

Drumm can be withholding regarding the genesis of the material he releases, and this is the case with OG23. It’s clear, however, that he’s harnessed electrons to do his bidding. The tones slide around like multi-hued oil droplets on water or condors drifting on atmospheric air currents. Sounds enter the field of perception, alter course, and then disappear like whisps of vapor. As one element vanishes, more appear. Mid and low-register swarms provide a scaffold-like hum, like a fleet of airplanes performing a flyby or the rumble of a distant factory.

OG23 resembles aleatoric or generative music in the way its tones worm around and vanish. Drumm’s established a sinister calculus and dialed in the parameters. The fractalized patterns use his framework to writhe and take on new forms. Each of the side-long pieces corrupts Drumm’s algorithm with its own unique mutation. On the A side, a flock of robotic birds explores the Starship Enterprise engine room, whereas on the flip, the passerine beings search for home within the humid air of a subterranean cavern. Drumm is the mastermind behind both scenes, reveling in the strange harmonies he’s set in motion.

Bryon Hayes

#kevin drumm #OG23 #streamline #bryon hayes #albumreview #dusted magazine #drones #electronics

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 10, Number 1

Finnoguns Wake

Wow, it’s been 10 years since we started Dust, our monthly collection of short reviews. During that time, we’ve covered hundreds of records that might have otherwise slipped through the cracks — from obscure CD-Rs handed off at live shows, to long-lost reissues dug out of attics and basements, to the maniacally focused output of the micro-labels we love to even, occasionally, semi-major releases.  Our conclusion: It may be hard times for music criticism, especially the paid variety, but it’s an excellent era for listening to music.  Here’s what we’ve uncovered to kick off the next decade.  Contributors include Bill Meyer, Jennifer Kelly, Ian Mathers, Andrew Forell, Justin Cober-Lake, Bryon Hayes, Patrick Masterson, Alex Johnson and Christian Carey.

Dave Bayles Trio — Live At The Uptowner (Calligram)

Good things are happening around Milwaukee. That’s where Dave Bayles practices his crafts as a jazz drummer and educator (actually, he teaches in Kenosha). This recording documents his foray into band leadership, which was hosted by the Uptowner, a neighborhood tap that’s been serving drinks since the 1880s. The recorded evidence suggests that despite it being the kind of place where you can holler at the Packers on a screen, when the music’s playing, people listen. Bayle, trumpeter Russ Johnson and bassist Clay Schaub justify their attention throughout this collection of mostly original, bop-aligned themes, which they execute with a little early-Ornette flexibility and healthy servings of direct, swinging lyricism. Johnson in particular does yeoman’s work, drawing out nuanced, patient solos that are likely to induce you to forget to open your mouth, just like the audience on this entirely ingratiating live recording.

Bill Meyer

Cy Dune — Against Face (Lightning Studios)

Very late on Seth Olinsky (from Akron/Family)’s dance/noise/punk experiment, but holy wow, what a belching, squelching, head-whipping sharp turn it is. If Akron/Family took gentle folk songs right off the rails, Cy Dune starts in chaos and ends in angsty cyber-age freefall. The trip typically takes one or two minutes, though the unironically named “Don’t Waste My Time” extends for three. Within that time frame, bass note bobble, snares snap, guitars twist and Olinsky shouts in terse syncopation, breaking occasionally for non-Jude-like “na-na-na-nahs.” “Against Face” wallops hard and fast, pounding toms tethering wild squalls of guitar. “No fun, no fun, no fun,” howls Olinsky periodically, but it definitely is. Fun.

Jennifer Kelly

Dual Monitor — HARD19 (Hardline Sounds)

Say what you might about Rinse FM, the station’s leadership (read: they of the coffers) continues to do a service to the UK’s ecosystem of independent radio by way of keeping afloat other institutions. One such example was its buyout and relaunch of the old pirate station Kool FM; another was its unshuttering of beloved Bristol station SWU.FM last April. Part of the latter’s reinvigorated lineup is the duo of Fliss Mayo and Zebb Dempster, aka Dual Monitor, and their latest release caught my ear for its attention both to percussion amid propulsion and to its high-grade bass weight. “Level Up” might be the winner for me, but the pitch-black plunge of “Left/Right” and “Quattros Oxide” are grooves to behold, too. The airy D&B twist of “Switch It” is also unmissable, a lovely bit of work to close out the four-tracker. Good for a run of 200 from a label worth watching, it looks like you’re still not too late if you do a little running of your own to go grab it.

Patrick Masterson

Eluvium — (Whirring Marvels In) Consensus Reality (Temporary Residence Limited)

Matthew Cooper has made and released plenty of music since 2016’s False Readings On (much of it under the Eluvium name) but in some ways the compact, masterful (Whirring Marvels In) Consensus Reality feels like the first capital A Eluvium Album since that one. As with 2007’s Copia, it leans into the orchestral side of Cooper’s work (this time remotely collaborating with various musicians over the last couple of years), resulting in everything from the phantasmagorical choral/vocal work on “Void Manifest” and the dense arpeggios of “Vibration Consensus Reality (for Spectral Multiband Resonator)” to the solo piano miniature of “Clockwork Fables” and the whirling swells of the closing “Endless Flower.” At this point Cooper’s work is often too varied and colorful to be described as drone, and too active and involving to really be ambient; it’s just Eluvium music, and it’s wonderful to have more of it.

Ian Mathers

Finnoguns Wake —Stay Young EP (What’s Your Rupture)

Stay Young is a debut four-track EP from Australian songwriters Shogun and his mate Finn Berzin who rejoice in the name Finnoguns Wake. You’ll find no knotty linguistic experiments but for lovers of energetically melodic indie guitar bands, there are joys to be had. The pair, who share vocals, guitar and lyrics, meet somewhere between the concise attack of Shogun’s former band Royal Headache and the anthemic end of Britpop. The first three songs zip by with guitars abuzz, the rhythm section driving hard and the voices high in the mix. “Blue Sky” manages to feel satisfyingly loose atop its rigid drumbeat. “So Nice” reconfigures the riff of Husker Dü’s “Terms of Psychic Warfare” to good effect, with Berzin sounding tonally like young Dylan. “Lovers All” moves along like a rougher version of The Buzzcocks. The one misstep “Strawberry Avalanche” aims for Britpop grandeur with the misguided self-belief of late Oasis. Shogun takes his “melting ice cream” metaphors as seriously as Liam treats even his most absurd attempts to top big brother. Thing is you can picture the song working for an audience, so hats off. Stay Young is a promising introduction from a band that feels it like has more and better coming.

Andrew Forell

Lamin Fofana — Lamin Fofana and the Doudou Ndiaye Rose Family (Honest Jon’s)

New York-based producer, DJ and visual artist Lamin Fofana had a big 2023, with two releases on the famed Honest Jon’s imprint and a third for the illustrious Trilogy Tapes in addition to a Resident Advisor mix. That second Honest Jon’s album came in the form of this collaboration in early December with the Doudou Ndiaye Rose Family, an mbalax group of some notoriety in Senegal and descendents of the Dakar drummer, composer and band leader best known as master of the sabar drum family. It fits, though the exact nature of the collaboration is unclear — this is very much a percussion workout of the highest order with only a deft tinge of Fofana’s electronics providing light, cosmic buoyancy to the music, a quartet of meditations ranging between four and 12 minutes long. The most frenetic of them, at least for a spell, is “Bench Mi Mode III: Spectrum,” but even that one has its share of field recordings to lend a more immersive, consuming quality to the listen than pure rhythmic impulse. If you’re unfamiliar with any of the parties involved, you’ll thank yourself in short order for giving this a go.

Patrick Masterson

Fortunati Durutti Marinetti — Eight Waves In Search Of An Ocean (Quindi (ITA) / Soft Abuse (USA))

Dan Colussi’s latest release under the Fortunato Durutti Marinetti moniker, Eight Waves In Search Of An Ocean, is eminently listenable, engaging and, if paid proper attention, engrossing—although not always comfortably. His vocals never stray far from sprechgesang and the instrumentation tends towards warped mid-tempo. There are bright washes of keys; flute and string inflections; careful, elastic bass lines with steady, shoulder-danceable drum patterns. It’s easy to be lulled by the rosy, if somewhat baroque settings, until an ascendant burst of synthesizer or dramatic pause intrudes to break the spell. You may find yourself unsure, rewinding to find out what you might’ve just missed. In this way, the experience of the album can feel akin to a single, continuous performance with brief variations, rather than a straightforward collection of songs.

One such variation, adding perhaps the most friction to Eight Waves… is “Smash Your Head Against the Wall,” which, while not concussive, does make your ears perk up at its clawing guitar chords and the stark imagery that Colussi nearly spits out: “it’s a nest of vipers pissing on each other…and anyone else who’s around/would love to fuck you over if they can/and this community’s request/for the presumed benefit of all/is smash your head against the wall…a delta of corrosion/disorder/and decomposition.” I quote at some length, but there’s plenty more. Though a sonic departure from its surroundings — think Bill Callahan’s “Diamond Dancer” dropped into Destroyer’s Kaputt — “Smash Your Head…” is emblematic of a record that rewards the delayering effect of multiple listens.

Alex Johnson

Ghost Marrow — earth + death (The Garrote)

There is a patience to the songs on Aurielle Zeitler’s third record as Ghost Marrow, but it’s the patience of a predator stalking its prey. All seven songs here started as improvisations on the Juno-60 synthesizer, but by the time they’ve been arranged into these shapes (almost entirely by Zeitler, who adds effects and guitar as well as her voice) they feel focused and intent on the listener. The Bladerunner-esque sweep of “mother of the end” and the increasingly un-gentle blasts of static breaking into the title track both land somewhere between unsettling menace and a kind of holy severity. By the time the closing, ten-minute “microcosm” erupts into clouds of guitar and distant screaming, suddenly sounding a lot more like Sunn O)))’s Black One than the rest of the LP might make you expect, it’s clear that Ghost Marrow is intent on honoring both sides of her title.

Ian Mathers

Brian Harnetty — The Workbench (Winesap)

Composer Brian Harnetty has created memorable work by digging into cultural archives. Shawnee, Ohio (2019) uncovered layers of memory from Appalachia, while last year's Words and Silences drew on recordings of Thomas Merton for sustained contemplation. For his brief EP The Workbench, he takes a different approach, mining deeply personal moments for a individual revelation. He begins with items that his father had repaired — a watch, a radio — and adds in voicemail messages, all in conversation with an evocative quartet. Eventually he ends the piece with his father's breathing as he sleeps in hospice, a quiet outro that finds mournful but understated peace.

The 11-minute track moves so smoothly that singling out key moments almost misses the point; it's a single movement to honor a relationship while reflecting on the brevity of time and the artifacts that persist amid mortality. When a repaired music box overtakes the musicians for the final lift, it feels natural, because of course the reparations done in life will outshine our ability to articulate their meaning. Harnetty's compositions before that never falter. His use of bass clarinet (here played by Ford Fourqurean) provides the essential gravity. Violin and cello weave through the piece with his own piano lightening the composition as needed. A reworked instrumental track allows for a wordless exploration of the same topics. An accompanying video covers the workbench itself, the artifacts presented in themselves, a tangible and visual part of the legacy. It's a short statement from Harnetty but one that lasts.

Justin Cober-Lake

 Nailah Hunter — Lovegaze (Fat Possum)

Nailah Hunter plays lots of instruments on this lush and twilit debut full-length, but two define its sound. Her voice, to start, is cool and effortless and strong, prone to flowery embellishments and capable of soaring crescendos without strain. She might remind you of Sade, in the poised, unruffled quiet bits, but she can belt, too, filling cavernous sonic spaces with bright untethered flourishes. The other instrument is the harp, more common certainly in classical music but not as unusual as it once was in rock and soul. But unlike Joanna Newsom who laces her tunes with folk-echoing arpeggios or Mary Lattimore who finds a celestial drone, Hunter employs the harp to scatter pizzicato shards of crystal in velvety nocturnal textures. The harp litters her moody atmospheres with star light, cold, glimmering pinpoints of sound. It contrasts in a striking way with the warmth of her voice and the pulsing, irregular syncopations of dance-like drums. These are oddly shaped elements that ought not to fit as snugly or as wondrously as they do, but they do.

Jennifer Kelly

Ernesto Diaz Infante — Bats In The Lavender Sky (Ramble)

Bay Area guitarist Ernesto Diaz Infante has always been a restless sort. Nonetheless, this album feels like a bit of a curve ball, albeit a welcome one. The improviser ensconced himself in a San Francisco recording facility named Next Door To The Jefferson Airplane Studios, but did not take the trip you might expect given a choice like that. Instead of a west coast psychedelic vibe, he has gone natural, nocturnal and New Zealand-ish. Put another way, this album mines territory similar to Roy Montgomery’s mid- to late-1990s work, with a little bit of user-friendly Mego thrown in. Repetition leads to contemplation; this music won’t move you at bat velocity, but if you happen to be floating on a slow-moving air mattress while they fly overhead, it’d make just the right soundtrack.

Bill Meyer

Joy Orbison — “Flight FM” (XL)

flight fm by TOSS PORTAL

Getting married and having a kid really seems to have opened Peter O’Grady up over the past few years. After starting his own label in 2017, he came out with an album (2021’s Still Slipping, Vol. 1), has dropped a handful of singles exploring various strains of UK dance music, and even mined the archive of his glory days for a comp of loosies long thought lost or forgotten (last year’s Archive 09-10). Far from the reserved, elusive producer he broke so big with “Hyph Mngo” as, Joy O has instead blossomed into an approachable, seemingly well-adjusted guy who just wants you to enjoy music the way he does — and what better way to do that than with this heavyweight cruiser that rolls as deep as his best material from the SunkLo days. Concocted in a car on the way to a festival, it took some badgering from Four Tet (who has some unreleased work of his own to wrap up, while we’re on the subject) for him to finish it… but thank goodness he did. The best part about this is that we skipped the Aliasizm radio rip and the endless speculation on what it was called and got straight to the release. A simple, speaker-wrecking ode to the pirate station from which it takes its name, you couldn’t start 2024 (or 2012) any better. Variation on an oft-repeated refrain lately: It’s a shame Fact isn’t around to report on it.

Patrick Masterson

Matt Krefting — Finer Points (Open Mouth)

Finer Points by Matt Krefting

Students of the northeastern U.S. freak scene know Matt Krefting for his endeavors both written and aural. His critical ear has spilled ink across the pages of The Wire magazine and Byron Coley’s Bull Tongue Review, and his sonic exploits harken back to the turn of the millennium with the studied quietude of Son of Earth. These days, Krefting makes surprisingly musical constructions using cassette decks and other tape-adjacent curios, coaxing murky melodies from spools of ferric material. Finer Points comprises layers of dusky fuzz, sandblasted environments and warmly lit instrumental passages. A lonely organ features prominently across many tracks, its doleful moan warbling slightly as Krefting’s malfunctioning tape deck motors strain to maintain a constant speed. Standing out from the nocturnal scenery is “A Double Request,” in which multiple plucked string instruments coalesce into a swampy dirge. There’s a sense of evolution at play as the parts cycle through, forming melodies that shift and tumble before falling apart entirely. This is a common theme throughout Finer Points: Krefting subtly and gradually alters the scenery. The slow unfolding creates an intoxicating glow that permeates the entire experience.

Bryon Hayes

Thomas K. J. Mejer / Uneven Same — Saxophone Quartets 1 2 5 6 7 (Wide Ear)

Uneven Same – Saxophone Quartets by Thomas K.J. Mejer

If you’ve heard of Thomas Mejer, it’s most likely because he is a rare specialist in the contrabass saxophone. In that capacity, he’s contributed tonal heft and textural complexity to the music of Phill Niblock and Keefe Jackson. But for this album, which was mostly performed by the all-female saxophone quartet, Uneven Same, he applies a nuanced comprehension of the potentialities of other saxes founded upon the advances made by improvisers to composed music that operates that is carefully textured and glides more than it grooves. Manuela Villiger, Eva-Marta Karbacher, Vera Wahl and Silke Strahl realize his long, layered lines and carefully buffed sonorities with exquisite poise. Mejer also uses overdubbing to realize four more pieces, all part of a series entitled “Resonating Voids,” on his own. By turns rough, thick, and aquatic, its elemental earthiness balances Uneven Same’s more airborne performances.

Bill Meyer

Melted Men — Jaw Guzzi (Feeding Tube)

Melted Men are an enigma that no amount of online sleuthing can crack. The only information about them online is their Discogs page and a live show review from 1997. In that bizarre performance, Melted Men was a duo from Athens, Georgia. Apparently now, 25 years later, they’ve swollen their ranks, even roping in members from as far afield as continental Europe. With Jaw Guzzi, the anonymous outfit offers up a pair of side-long audio head trips. Warped, heat haze-distorted cassette detritus sidles up to blown out exotica and disjointed Martian funk beats. There’s a hefty dose of collage on display, with mutant vignettes that serve as rickety bridges between more tuneful passages. It’s these doses of song form that will extract bobbing heads and wobbly bottoms from the most adventurous listeners. Melted Men imagine a world where the jump cut jumble of Seymour Glass intersects the ethno-punk chaos of Sun City Girls and the junk shop proto-industrial bleat of early Wolf Eyes. It’s a world that this writer wouldn’t mind visiting frequently.     

(Note: Melted Men are such a mysterious bunch that they’ve asked Feeding Tube not to post any audio on Bandcamp or elsewhere on the internet.)

Bryon Hayes

Nehan — An Evening with Nehan (Drag City)

Nehan is all-star Japanese noise/drone/experimental ensemble led by Masaki Batoh and drawing members from Ghost, Acid Mothers Temple and the Silence. The disc in question presents two side-long improvisations which use as a starting point the 9hz brain wave emitted from a test subject. You can get a sense in the video above of how the experiment worked, as a dancer’s synaptic impulses feed into an elaborate synthesizer set up, turning whatever was in her head into long, pulsing drones. It’s a bit austere in its pure form, but the record elaborates, adding percussion, especially gongs and bells, and a wizened-kazoo-like wind instrument, something that might be a bagpipe and other sounds. It’s not entirely clear how much of what you hear comes from the brain waves and how much comes from the free interplay of the musicians, but maybe it doesn’t matter. The result is slow-moving and mysterious, with dramatic surges of drums and wandering threads of blown sound. The human brain is a notoriously mysterious organ but who’d have thought it could general all this instrumental turmoil? If you’d told me this music was sourced from sun storms or tidal currents or tectonic shifts, I’d have believed that, too.

Jennifer Kelly

Colin Newman and Malka Spiegal—Bastard (Swim ~)

Colin Newman’s Bastard created quite a stir in 1997 when first released. This nine-track, all-instrumental album, leaned heavily on a still mostly underground drum ‘n bass aesthetic and was a far cry from Wire’s terse, melodic outbursts. It also was Newman’s first project after Wire went on hiatus, billed as a solo effort, but actually a close collaboration with his partner Malka Spiegel. This expanded reissue gives Spiegel due credit and fills out the context with 12 additional contemporaneous tracks.

The original album still sounds fairly austere, with clean, clipped drum cadences, locked-tight guitar loops and abstract surges of synthesized sound. The amusingly named “Slowfast (falling down the stairs with a drumkit)” allows the use of distorted guitar, but only in quick, percussive blots. The guitar sound becomes an element of percussion, but not the important one—an antic skitter of drum machine dominates the cut. “Spiked” strips a funk riff down to cubist blocks, a bass sliding woozily between sharp-cut breakbeat drums. None of this is so surprising now, in the wake of techno, house and all its variants, but people weren’t expecting it, least of all from a post-punk progenitor, in 1997. The reissue adds a bunch of other tracks, many of which hew much closer to how you probably think of Wire. “Automation” adds a sinuous, down-in-the-mix vocal to its pop-locked rhythms. “Voice” bristles with guitar dissonance and bobs with dubby bass. “Tsunami” floats euphorically on sawed-down guitar feedback, a good bit like My Bloody Valentine but dancier. And “Cut the Slack” sounds like a Wire song, deadpan chants running into shouted aggressions and layers of guitar shimmering around undeniable hooks. The extra tracks make Bastard sound less like a 100% departure and more like a gradual evolution—and they are very much worth hearing all on their own.

Jennifer Kelly

Ethan Philion Quartet — Gnosis (Sunnyside)

Gnosis by Ethan Philion Quartet

Here’s a welcome surprise. As a rule, bebop-rooted jazz is not the place to look for excitement in 2023, but the rules change when Ethan Philion is on stage. On this record, his second as a leader, the Chicago-based bassist helms a quartet that combines high energy with rhythmic grace and a thorough commitment to the mechanics of the music being played. The latter point might not sound so thrilling, but it is key, since it results in performances that can be appreciated for their cohesion as well as their outward-bound vibe. Philion’s debut was a tribute to Charles Mingus that felt a little too polished; this time, the soloing by all parties (alto saxophonist Greg Ward, trumpeter Russ Johnson, drummer Dana Hall) evince both vigor and rigor.

Bill Meyer

Rick Reed — The Symmetry Of Telemetry (Elevator Bath / Sedimental)

The Symmetry of Telemetry by Rick Reed

The Symmetry Of Telemetry is Rick Reed’s pandemic album. Methodologically, it’s hard to say how much that matters, since the Austin-based electronic musician’s practice already involved patiently collecting and sifting through shortwave broadcasts and then combining them with performed electronics. But the slow-motion uneasiness of “Dysania,” the alternately abraded and bulked-up bumps that introduce “Leave A Light On For Tony,” and the disconsolate, fizzling tones that occupy most of “Space Age Radio Love Song” certainly feel like that time felt. But there’s more to this music than downer vibes. Reed knows how to layer and arrange sounds so that an apparently static passage yields event upon event anytime you decide to listen into his compacted constructions. He also knows how to make waiting pay off, and while it would be spoiling things to tell you what he does, suffice to say that if you listen, you’ll know it when it happens.

Bill Meyer

Jason Roebke Quartet — Four Spheres (Corbett Vs Dempsey)

Four Spheres by Jason Roebke

When bandleaders like Mike Reed, Jorrit Dijkstra and Jason Adasiewicz have needed a bassist who could toggle easily between swing and abstraction, they’ve called Jason Roebke. Such calls, along with everything else a person has to do to maintain a life, mean that years might pass between Roebke’s turns as a leader. But when he does, you can count on them to be deeply considered and not quite like anything else going around. This quartet applies his trademarked fluidity to investigations of the tension between fixed and changing elements. Cassette recordings of electronic noise and metronome beats form nodal points within these pieces around which Edward Wilkerson Jr’s reeds and Marcus Evans’ drums surge and churn in overtly expressive fashion while pianist Mabel Kwan and Roebke shift their weight between fixity and flow. The sound is occasionally reminiscent of the more skeptical, interrogative side of the AACM, and particularly Roscoe Mitchell, but Roebke’s points of inquiry are purely his own.

Bill Meyer

Ned Rothenberg — Crossings Four (Clean Feed)

Crossings Four by Ned Rothenberg

This is some understated, shape-shifting stuff. On clarinets and alto saxophone, Ned Rothenberg matches a tone that’ll make you want to let your ear linger to phrasing sufficiently fluid to motivate them to get up and follow the music. The other three musicians in his Crossings Four are Mary Halvorson on guitar, Sylvie Courvoisier on piano and Tomas Fujiwara on drums. They and Rothenberg are well-matched in attitude, since everyone has chops to flex, but no one flashes them gratuitously. Although this is the quartet’s first recording, there are decades of shared experience and a myriad of interconnections between its members. This enables them to realize a variety of improvisational approaches, from droll and grooving to fractured and abstract, with ease. The moments when a signature lick pops out tend to be lures, inviting the listener to follow them as they disappear into matrices of brisk, nuanced interaction.

Bill Meyer

San Kazakgascar — Too Many People (Lather)

Too Many People by San Kazakgascar

The album title augurs misanthropy, but that’s not borne out by the sounds. This Sacramento seven-piece spares little time for sonic bleakness, and the sounds they choose to make reveal a robust curiosity about the music of other places. Disciplined west coast psych guitars converge with skronk-willing, souk-conscious reeds upon rhythm frameworks that suggest someone’s spent some quality time listening to Gary Glitter, the Meters and wherever it is that Chris Forsyth bottles his choogling spirits. The lack of vocals keeps them from saying anything you really wish they’d take back, and the commitment to a steady groove makes this a record you’ll want to hear on the go, so cash in that download code! But there are also lulls founded upon dust-blown acoustic picking, making this just the record to play when your Firestick won’t load and you’re back to watching that all western, all the time station, but you can’t stand to hear that bullshit cowboy dialogue anymore. Yeah, make up a Western in your own mind where the land defenders win and finish the day celebrating to the tunes of “Crockett Creek.”

Bill Meyer

Secret Pyramid — A Vanishing Touch (BaDaBing!)

A Vanishing Touch by Secret Pyramid

Amir Abbey often writes songs, but on A Vanishing Touch, he composes ambient music inspired by J Dilla’s Donuts. The two seem like strange projects to associate, but it is more the inspiration of Dilla’s jabbing beats that Abbey reconceptualizes to enliven the texture. The best track, “Whim,” is built around soaring textures amid just such rhythmic punctuation. Abbey also moved away from the long gestation period afforded his songs to greater immediacy. There is an improvisatory sensibility here that, rather than moving Secret Pyramid sideways, seems like a useful development.

A Vanishing Touch includes a wide range of synth sounds and doesn’t stint on yearning dissonance. As the ambient revival long exceeds its initial incarnation, it is up to artists like Abbey to reconceive it. Mission accomplished.

Christian Carey

Setting — At The Black Mountain College Museum (www.settingsounds.com)

at Black Mountain College Museum by Setting

Setting is Jaimie Fennelly (Mind Over Mirrors), Nathan Bowles (Pelt, Black Twig Pickers) and Joe Westerlund (Megafaun, Califone), and At the Black Mountain College Museum is the trio’s ultra-quick follow-up to their debut album. Recorded at the end of the brief string of dates that celebrated its release, it dives deeper into their blend of propulsive grooves and not-too-plush, not too rough textures in almost aquatic fashion. This music moves a bit like an otter might, drifting when the current does the necessary work, and then pointing head down with a vigorous kick into deeper and more turbulent eddies. The three multi-instrumentalists stick together, sonically speaking, so that you’re less likely to tune into their interactions than into the place the sounds take you.

Bill Meyer

Strinning & Daisy — Castle And Sun (Veto)

Castle and Sun by Strinning & Daisy

In a sax and drums duo, there’s nowhere to hide. If a musician lacks ideas, stamina or reciprocity, a duo will lay their deficit out for all to hear. Alternately, if they have what it takes, tuned-in listeners will know. The latter scenario is the case here. Swiss tenor saxophonist Sebastian Strinning and Chicagoan drummer Tim Daisy have known each other since 2019, when the former resided for a spell in the latter’s city. But they don’t have a lengthy shared history, so there’s an element of trying things on for size in this session’s dynamic. Each musician draws upon his diverse approaches in a series of mix-and-match explorations as tumbling lines meet steaming forward energy, hushed, textured tones part a curtain of metal sounds, and animal utterances confront circuitous patterns. Captured with three-dimensional palpability and spaciousness by engineer Nick Broste, their exchanges connect with both mind and gut.

Bill Meyer

Tiger Valley—The Celebration (Hausu Mountain)

The Celebration by Tiger Village

Cleveland based producer Tim Thornton’s latest album Tiger Village album, The Celebration, collects ten cheerfully constructed pieces capturing the chaotic joy of domestic life and music making under a feline regime. Random cat energy infuses Thornton’s music; languid relaxation gives way to manic activity, while parcels of affection turning into aloof, spiky demands for attention proffered with claws and cries. Both “Cat’s Up” and “Cat Chew” celebrate the beasts’ mercurial nature. The former is an insinuating strut constantly distracted by random shiny objects, sudden noises and those odd moments of fixation upon unseen emanations. The latter slinks about, looking you in the eye as it knocks your stuff off the desk and tramps across your keyboard. Across the other eight tracks, Thornton juxtaposes eight-bit squiggles, snatches of ambient melody, treated samples of his daughter’s voice, techno beats and machine detritus into a sometimes delirious delight. Quite lovely, though prone to scratching.

Andrew Forell

True Green — My Lost Decade (Spacecase)

My Lost Decade by True Green

Nine clever, loosely strung songs from Minneapolis novelist Dan Hornsby buzz and rattle like lost cuts from Pavement or Silver Jews. “My Peccaddilloes” is especially slanted and more than a little disenchanted, a rambling picaresque of guitars, drums and wheedle-y vocals. The chorus, if that’s what you call it, hits hard, though, “It’s a dog eat dog/said the dog with the taste for dogs/every man for himself/said the man for himself.” The music dissolves in your ears, mess of things that sting and bash and hum, but the lyrics are sharp and packed with reference. “You’re a hopeless diamond, and it’s rough,” yowls Hornsby in his kicked dog tenor, and that about sums it up.

Jennifer Kelly

Michael Zerang & Tashi Dorji — Schiamachy (Feeding Tube)

Sciamachy by Michael Zerang & Tashi Dorji

Sciamachy is named for the practice of fake fighting; if you make it to theater school, you might be able to take a class in it. The cover image augurs metal, but this mock battle between Tashi Dorji and Michael Zerang is improvisational to the hilt. What else can one do when faced with an instrument that’s one of a kind? Zerang is generally known as a percussionist, but on this occasion, he played something called Queequeg’s Coffin, which was devised to be both instrument and prop for a puppet theater performance of Moby Dick. It is a coffin-like box with a crank on one side, somewhat like a hurdy-gurdy without keys. It’s not precise, but it kicks up a great, raw racket of higher and lower pitches that sound like someone sawing open said coffin. Dorji’s response is to lean into texture, complimenting the coffin’s abrasive protests with Sonic Youth-like chimes, chain-in-the-skillet clanks and blinking feedback cadences. This music will have you picking imaginary splinters out of your clothes for the next week; how many records do you own that can make a similar claim?

Bill Meyer

#dust #dusted magazine #dave bayles #bill meyer #cy dune #eluvium #ian mathers #finnoguns wake #andrew forell #ghost marrow #brian harnetty #justin cober-lake #nailah hunter #ernesto diaz infante #thomas k.j. mejer #melted men #bryon hayes #nehan #colin newman #malka spiegel #ethan philion #rick reed #jason roebke #ned rothenberg #San Kazakgascar #secret pyramid #setting #christian carey #sebastian strinning #tim daisy

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume Nine, Number 10

Older, but not a bit wiser, the Hives return

Fall comes with its smell of maple in the leaves, its intimations of mortality and, this year, its share of unsettling events—war in the middle east, AI in everything and the murder of our beloved Bandcamp by capitalist privateers.  (We are not equating these things by any means.)  Like always, we turn to music, the annihilating blare of metal, the agile interplay of improvisation, the well-shaped contours of pop, depending on our individual tastes.  We hope you’ll find something to ease your own personal burden in all this as well.  Contributors include Bryon Hayes, Bill Meyer, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Jonathan Shaw, Ian Mathers, Alex Johnson, Jennifer Kelly and Ray Garraty. 

Due to technical issues we're posting this in two parts, so don't miss the second one.

Ad Hoc — Corpse (Shame File Music / Albert’s Basement)

Ad Hoc was a Melbourne-based improvising unit, an experimental outfit that should have higher prominence. It only took 40-plus years, but Shame File Music and Albert’s Basement are finally spearheading a reissue initiative. Last year saw the arrival of the trio’s sole release, the hypnotic Distance cassette. It disappeared the moment it became available. Corpse documents an unconventional live performance from the group. They prepared their instruments (guitars, an EMS Synthi AKS synth and tape loops) for performance prior to the arrival of the audience and then shut off their amps. When all were seated, the trio turned on the amplifiers and unfurled an aleatoric blast of sound. The resulting music is far removed from the ambient tone clusters of Distance. The first piece shimmers in a way that calls to mind Matthew Bower’s Sunroof project, while the latter piece bathes in guitar noise so thick that it may have influenced The Dead C’s The Operation of the Sonne EP. Ad Hoc have today’s noisemakers beat: Corpse presents itself with a freshness that belies its 1980 provenance.

Bryon Hayes

Axolotl — Abrasive (Souffle Continu)

The French trio Axolotl existed for a few years in the early 1980s, and it reflects the aesthetic concerns of its time. Guitarist Marc Dufourd’s playing betrays some acquaintance with the work of Derek Bailey and Henry Kaiser, and the fibrous tones and agile exchanges between reeds players Jacques Oger and Etienne Brunet recall Evan Parker. All three double on electronics, hand percussion and utterances. These accessories, in combination with the concentration of the album’s 12 tracks, give the music a truculent attitude and just-the-facts brevity that brings to mind punk and post-punk. This may be free improvisation, but it is improvised from a point of view, and it’s that informed attitude that makes the album worth visiting nearly 40 years after its original release.

Bill Meyer

Will Butler + Sister Squares — Self-Titled (Merge)

Will Butler joins with Sister Squares — multi-instrumentalists Jenny (Butler’s wife) and Julie Shore, Sara Dobbs and drummer/producer Miles Francis — for their debut album. Bouncy, heartland rock garlanded with that 1980s Fairlight and Linn drum sound mixes with touches of art rock as Butler emotes wholehearted. The influence of the 20 years Butler spent with Arcade Fire is inescapable, but it feels like the quintet have also been listening to Billy MacKenzie (“Long Grass”) and Russell Mael (“Arrow of Time”) as well as Springsteen, Mellencamp and company. “Hee Loop” sounds like a mash of Paul Simon and Peter Gabriel. The themes and emotions can be big in that Arcade Fire way that’s equal parts exhilarating and exhausting, but the album works best when the band dial down the melodramatic flourishes as on “Car Crash” and “The Window,” where Butler is right in your ear, tired, disillusioned, real. This is a record I wanted to like both more and less. For every heartfelt moment and interesting musical choice, there’s a cringe-inducing gestural overreach that makes you wince. A bit like his former band but with enough promise to persevere with.

Andrew Forell

Claire Deak — Sotto Voce (Lost Tribe Sound)

Melbourne-based composer Claire Deak’s last release on Lost Tribe Sound was 2020’s The Old Capital, a fantastic collaboration with Tony Dupé. In my Dusted review I said, “There’s so much wonderful stuff going on across these seven songs that it’s a delight to revisit.” As its title suggests, Deak’s solo debut, Sotto Voce, very much sits at the opposite end of the musical spectrum. This is subtle, minimal music that softly arises out of silence and speaks an elusive language. The background to the album’s creation is Deak’s exploration of the work of two women composers from the early baroque era, Francesca Caccini (1587–c.1645) and Barbara Strozzi (1619–1677). The dominant musical elements are strings, harp and voice, with other instruments coloring the edges of these understated, starkly beautiful compositions. Across the album’s 42 minutes the music feels, at times, to be battling the entropy of erasure, struggling to be heard amid the cacophony of these overstimulated times. For that reason alone, it’s necessary to invest your attention and listen closely. The experience is eerie and transportive.

Tim Clarke

Mike Donovan — Meets the Mighty Flashlight (Drag City)

On a musical Venn diagram showing the intersecting circles of garage rock, lo-fi, and psych, Mike Donovan has set up his sandbox. With Sic Alps he veered more noisy and lo-fi; with Peacers he favored a straight-ahead garage-rock sound. On this new record with Mike Fellows, AKA The Mighty Flashlight, Donovan steers in the direction of shambolic psychedelic-pop in the vein of the Olivia Tremor Control. (To anyone who knows and loves OTC, this is obviously a very good thing.) The splashy drums and percussion tracks feel like a gestural afterthought rather than a rhythmic backbone the songs are built around, and Donovan and Fellows steer these songs into some choppy, unexpected waters. Opener “Planet Metley” is the clearest and most successful distillation of their aesthetic, offering up a staggering range of ideas in under four minutes, stopping and starting erratically, the bass roving all over the fretboard. At the other end of the spectrum, “Laurel Lotus Dub” is the kind of experiment that sounds like it was more fun to create that it is to listen back to. Between these two extremes there’s the junkshop boogie of “A Capital Pitch,” which features the hilarious line, “Hanging out on the ramparts with some dickheads in black,” the concise drum-machine and organ instrumental “Amalgam Wagon,” and the plaintive, country-flavored “Whistledown.” Wherever Donovan roams it’s usually worth following, and Meets the Mighty Flashlight is a winning collaboration that fizzes with fun.

Tim Clarke

Everything Falls Apart — Everything Falls Apart (Totalism)

“Somn” means sleep, or more poetically death. It’s the title of six of the seven tracks from Everything Falls Apart, the self-titled album from the duo of Belgian bassist Otto Lindholm (born Cyrille de Haes) and English producer Ross Tones. Those titles (numbered six to 11) and the coda “Wonderfully Desolate” tell you only part of the story of the music the pair produce. Their conversation focuses on the nuance of the Lindholm’s double bass which Tones swathes in electronic effects, stretching notes and motifs into near drones in timbres that rise from the murk like lugubrious sentinels. This is seriously heavy music but the dynamism of the duo’s understanding and interplay distinguishes Everything Falls Apart. Whilst many of the pieces focus on stasis and decay, “Somn 9” is a desert storm with clicking percussion, almost didgeridoo like growls from the bass and screeching electronic noise. On “Somn 11”, deep bowed notes support Lindholm’s move through the registers as if shaking from fitful dreams into the morning light. “Wonderfully Desolate” is comparatively unadorned, a string quartet playing against the end times, shimmers of light through the cracks.

Andrew Forell

False Fed — Let Them Eat Fake (Neurot Recordings)

Is it accurate to call a band including members of legendary underground acts Amebix (Stig Miller), Nausea (Roy Mayorga) and Broken Bones (Jeff Janiak) a “supergroup”? It might help to note that Janiak has sung for Discharge since 2014, and Mayorga has done a couple stints as drummer for Ministry. All names to conjure with (though a few of us first encountered Mayorga as a teenager back in the 1980s Lehigh Valley hardcore scene, when he drummed for Youthquake; West Catty Playground Building forever, man). In any case, the players have pooled their talents to create this death-rocking, sorta goth, sorta post-punk record, and it’s a lot of grim, grimy fun. Most of the music is mid-tempo, grand and romantic in its gestures, but shot through with a crusty growl in the guitars and production tone. The best songs speed things up a bit; both “The Tyrant Dies” and “The Big Sleep” have compelling momentum, complementing the stakes of songs’ ideas. It's Armagideon Time, people. Here’s your soundtrack, from dudes that know.

Jonathan Shaw

Hauschka— Philanthropy (City Slang)

German composer Volker Bertelmann’s 15th album of prepared piano pieces under the name Hauschka is noticeably warmer than some of his previous works. Joined by Samuli Kosminen on percussion and electronics and cellist Laura Wiek, Hauschka continues his exploration of the rhythmic and timbral possibilities of his instrument. At times almost jaunty, there are echoes of Bertelmann’s previous experiments with melancholic atmospherics but the general tone here is welcoming and optimistic. Kosminen adds subtle effects which frame rather than obscure the piano. There’s a touch of Satie in Hauschka’s playful iconoclastic approach to the piano and his deceptively simple melodies, especially on “Loved Ones” where Wiek’s plangent cello lines sustain and decay over an allusive harmony that speaks both of innocence and experience. At the other end of the spectrum, the closing piece “Noise” builds abstract ambience from repeated piano notes, smears of cello and a quiet wash of effects as if the players are enveloped in a thick damp fog. A lovely album for both fans and newcomers.

Andrew Forell

The Hives — The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons (Disques Hives)

There are usually going to be some questions when a band comes back with a new record after over a decade, maybe especially so with an act like Swedish garage/punk flamboyants the Hives; can they match the energy of their youth? Are they still willing and able to give us the old thrills? Or have they (and this is usually asked with a small, tasteful shudder of disgust) matured? It doesn’t take very long into first single/first track “Bogus Operandi” for the concerned listener to have reason for a sigh of relief. Anyone who used to (or still does?) blast “Main Offender” or “Hate to Say I Told You So” or “Walk Idiot Walk” should feel the galvanizing charge of a true, Frankensteinian resurrection once the riff hits. And across these not-quite-32 minutes (the brevity is also a promising sign) Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist and the boys kick up exactly the kind of racket you’d want from them, with tracks like “Trapdoor Solution” and “The Bomb” savoring the kind of gleefully dumb fun they’ve always provided (with a nice sideline in some of Almqvist’s deliberately, over-the-top awful narrators on “Two Kinds of Trouble” and “What Did I Ever Do to You?”). They even continue to throw out small, satisfying variations on the classic Hives sound like the brassy swagger of “Stick Up” and the surprisingly heartfelt thrash of “Smoke & Mirrors”. They may have killed off their “sixth member,” but the Hives are otherwise in rude health.

Ian Mathers

Islet — Soft Fascination (Fire)

The Welsh psych-electronic oddballs in Islet are on their fourth full-length now but show no signs of settling down. Soft Fascination is a bonkers mash up of dance pop, art song, hip hop, noise and folk. “Euphoria” floats a feather-light daze, a la Avey Tare, then punctures it the rat-at-tat of snare, the rifle shot rap repartee of Emma Daman Thomas. Gossamer textures of synth weave in and around the main action, snapping tight at intervals, like sails catching a hard wind. The whole thing is butterfly ephemeral with strong wires holding it up, a combination of daydream and architecture. “River Body,” if anything, tips even crazier, with its infectious sing-song, skip-rope vocals, its tootling toy keyboards, its blasts of noise and friction. And what can you make of “Sherry” which bucks and heaves and shouts out “Ay, ay, ay, ay,” like a lost Matias Aguayar cut? “Ay, ay, ay, ay,” indeed.

Jennifer Kelly

Jute Gyte — Unus Mundus Patet (Self-released)

Unus Mundus Patet is not the most dissonant or challenging record Adam Kalmbach has released during his 20-plus-year run under the Jute Gyte moniker. But neither is this black metal for the kvlt trve believers or for the hipster-adjacent sets, be they transcendental or ecstatic or blackgazy. The songs twist and turn in on themselves, always clear in their expressions of complex musical ideas, and also — somehow, someway — listenable and enjoyable. Avant-garde? Sure thing, and likely a much more authentic iteration of that phrase’s meaning than the music many other metal bands churn out under cover of high-minded beard stroking. See the by-turns undulating and fragmenting “Killing a Sword” or the trudging, vertiginous and then utterly thrilling “Philoctetes.” Jute Gyte doesn’t make music for the background, but if you can give these songs your full attention, you’ll be rewarded. Turn it up and open the portal into somewhere much weirder and more marvelous.

Jonathan Shaw

Danny Kamins / Chris Alford / Charles Pagano — The Secret Stop (Musical Eschatology)

Free improvisation may be a little sparser on the ground in the southern USA than it is in Chicago or New York, but The Secret Stop affirms the vigor of those who participate. Guitarist Chris Alford and drummer Charles Pagano play in New Orleans, and Danny Kamins is a saxophonist from Texas; this encounter took place in the Crescent City. As even players in places like the aforementioned northern cities or London will affirm, travel comes with this territory. Their interactions display a capacity to sustain balance when the energy is high and to back off when doing so will transform the music’s tension. Kamins intersperses long, coarse tones with emphatic pops, and Alford evidences a fluent stutter that suggests he’s spent a lot of time studying James “Blood” Ulmer’s sound grammar. Pagano’s cymbal sizzle and mutating not-quite-patterns provide both forward momentum and a framework within which the action occurs.

Bill Meyer

MIKE \ Wiki \ The Alchemist — Faith Is a Rock (ALC)

The long awaited collaboration between The Alchemist and MIKE took a sudden turn when they took on board another New York rapper Wiki who steals the show here. Both Wiki and MIKE were outcasts recording music in the vein of Earl Sweatshirt, even though MIKE was always a better version of Earl with only possibly a tenth of his fame. Knowing no rest, The Alchemist (that is his fourth collab this year) takes both MCs way out of their comfort zone, refusing to pander to the needs. MIKE and Wiki have to deal with The Alchemist’s fast and thick layered production, and it works for all of them. “Mayors A Cop” is a standout here, and Faith Is a Rock is one strong contender for the tape of the year.

Ray Garraty

Camila Nebbia — Una Ofrenda A La Ausencía (Relative Pitch)

The title translates as An Offering To Absence, which of course raises the question, what’s missing? Camila Nebbia is a multidisciplinary artist who grew up in Buenos Aires, Argentina, but has seems to have spent a fair chunk of time moving around Europe in recent years, and is currently based in Berlin. She has a sizable discography, but this correspondent has not heard most of it, so let’s just focus on the album at hand. Its 16 tracks present three facets of her work — acoustic tenor saxophone, electronically adjusted saxophone and poetry — with the first method best represented. The unaccompanied saxophone performances reveal her mastery of both weight-bearing muscularity and adroit tap-dancing on the far side of the fences that confine conventional tonality. But when she layers long tones and feedback, Nebbia becomes a one-woman orchestra transmitting heavy Penderecki vibes. The one poem included, “Dejo que me lieve” (“I let it lie”), is recited in Spanish, and no translation is offered; perhaps home is what’s not there, so she needs to manifest it creatively?

Bill Meyer

[Continued in Part 2, because Tumblr decided we only get 10 audio links.]

#ad hoc #bryon hayes #dust #dusted magazine #axolotl #bill meyer #will butler #square sisters #andrew forell #claire deak #tim clarke #mike donovan #everything falls apart #false fed #jonathan shaw #hauschke #the hives #ian mathers #islet #jennifer kelly #jute gyte #danny kamins #MIKE #ray garraty #camila nebbia #Angelika Niescier #Bandcamp #Youtube

[dustedmagazine]

2023: Bryon Rides Anxiety’s Peaks and Valleys

Yo La Tengo

This year really tossed us all around like a gigantic blender, swirling everything together into a writhing mass of fine particles. It’s been quite the ride. Thankfully amidst the chaos, there was music. The vast cornucopia of exhilarating sounds wound itself around the many genres, and the dozens of releases spread across these twelve months. It provided the healing salve to combat the bedlam lying in the realm beyond our ears.

For me, live music in 2023 was about quality over quantity. The two shows that affected me most this past year were aligned along the theme of reunion. I’ve been a fan of Yo La Tengo since high school but had strayed from the band’s past few releases. This Stupid World brought me back into their universe. I jumped at the chance to see them in Toronto; it had been decades since I last saw them play live. They played two sets, one soft and one loud, and they didn’t disappoint. As an added bonus, I got to meet fellow Dusted writer Ian Mathers at the show. Toronto post-rockers Do Make Say Think played their first show in six years in March, around my birthday. I wasn’t going to miss it. They unleashed an enticing set of music, playing material from across their entire catalog with intense energy. It was hypnotic and exhilarating. They were also jovial, joking about the current career prospects of the band members. It was a fun night.

Many perennial favorite groups and artists released excellent albums this year. Yo La Tengo returned to their early Matador form with This Stupid World, while The Clientele expanded into new, lush and uncanny territory on I’m Not There Anymore. Califone’s Villagers pushed the band’s adventurous, bluesy roots-rock into an experimental wonderland. Bill Orcutt released Jump On It, revealing his softer side. The Live in Brooklyn 2011 set from Sonic Youth found the group trying out songs they rarely played live, as they wound down their decades-long existence. Joshua Abrams’ Natural Information Society showed that they’re not done unleashing mesmerizing sonic salvos with Since Time is Gravity. Finally, Daniel Bachman continued to push his singular brand of Americana toward the outer limits with When the Roses Come Again, and Intercepted Message found Osees covering Cisco Systems’ telephone hold music. It was a good year for long-beloved institutions.

New to me this year was the band Famous Mammals and their polyglot post-punk album Instant Pop Expressionism Now! I returned to it time and time again; it was the soundtrack to my late summer and my autumn. Digging deeper into the San Francisco band’s origins, I discovered a previously hidden world of Bay Area post-punk, populated by a tight-knit scene that originated with The World, which would fracture into Famous Mammals, Non Plus Temps, Blues Lawyer, Children Maybe Later and others. The LP in question blends elements of Swell Maps, Young Marble Giants and Television Personalities, aligning with those outfits’ brashness, naivete, and wry sense of humor. It was at the top of my list in 2023 and led me to explore the SF underground further. That digging led me to Will York’s encyclopedic tome Who Cares Anyway? York gives an in-depth perspective to the goings on in the Bay Area from the post-hippie origins of its punk scene to the self-destructive chaos of Flipper and the visionary artistry behind acts such as Mr. Bungle, Caroliner, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, et cetera. He also investigates the unique personalities that comprised the scene such as Brandon Kearney, Gregg Turkington, Seymour Glass, Barbara Manning, and Joe Pop-o-Pie. The book is worth exploring if you’re at all interested in any of the names I mentioned.

I always highlight at least one Canadian release, and this year I really got into the self-titled debut from Toronto duo You Can Can. The pairing of sound artist Andrew Zukerman and vocalist Felicity Williams is the perfect comingling of the familiar and the otherworldly. Alien soundscapes intercept beautifully crafted song forms, with synth squiggles and abstract patterns writhing alongside folk music signifiers. Let’s hope that You Can Can have more music in store for us in 2024 and beyond.

Bryon Hayes

#dusted magazine #yearend 2023 #bryon hayes #yo la tengo #do make say think #the clientele #califone #bill orcutt #sonic youth #joshua abrams’ natural information society #daniel bachman #osees #famous mammals #will york #you can can

[dustedmagazine]

Dusted Mid-Year 2023, Part Two

Yo La Tengo

And we’re back with the second half of the alphabet—from Kookei to Yves Tumor.  If you missed it, check out part one here.  We’ll have the writers’ lists tomorrow.  

Kookei — The Incredible Hulk (H$G Studios)

Who picked it? Ray Garraty

Did we review it? No

Tim Clarke’s take:

Detroit rapper Kookei has a truly bizarre rapping style. He delivers almost everything in a hushed whisper, as if he’s right there inside your earbuds, sibilance sizzling, braggadocio booming. Though Kookei rarely wavers from this vocal approach, the production across The Incredible Hulk varies wildly in consistency and quality. Trap beats, synth stabs and rudimentary piano loops dominate the backing tracks, with cuts such as “Jackie Chan” sounding much more rich and polished, while others such as “Cousin Skeeter” and “Headshot Gang 2” bleed into the red, making for some wince-worthy distortion. Admittedly this stuff is no doubt supposed to be heard loud while high as a kite, so I can’t say I’ve been able to fully appreciate its intended effect.

Kali Malone — Does Spring Hide its Joy (Ideologic Organ)

Does Spring Hide Its Joy by Kali Malone (featuring Stephen O’Malley & Lucy Railton)

Who nominated it? Jason Bivins

Did we review it? No

Andrew Forell’s take:

At three hours in duration, Swedish composer Kali Malone’s latest long form composition seems a daunting proposition. Based on Malone’s tuned sine wave generators, Stephen O’Malley’s guitar and Lucy Railton’s cello, Does Spring Hide Its Joy is an extraordinarily rewarding experience. Within the elemental drones, Malone conjures tectonic movement both sweeping and incremental. Microtonal changes feel enormous, the glacial pace focuses the ear on every imperceptible progression, every movement of bow across string and the shimmering harmonic interaction between the instruments. Recorded in early 2020, Does Spring Hide Its Joy reflects those early days of the pandemic when time seemed at a standstill and lethargy, dread and inertia slithered their way in. Three years on, this music resonates with the ongoing effects of those upheavals. All the terrible beauty is here and if you have the time to concentrate, Kali Malone and her collaborators provide a cavernous space in which to process. Very highly recommended and thank you to Jason for the impetus to listen. 

Natural Information Society — Since Time is Gravity (Eremite)

Who Picked it? Bill Meyer

Did we review it? Yes, Christian Carey said, “Whether the new collaborators will remain, or other players will join Abrams, Since Time is Gravity demonstrates that Natural Information Society is a durable creative enterprise.”

Bryon Hayes’ take:

Most of us at Dusted love Natural Information Society, and with good reason: Joshua Abrams and his ever-evolving ensemble know how to concoct a hypnotic brew. As such, it’s no surprise that this record made it to the top of someone’s list this year. If you were lucky enough to catch the latest incarnation of the group – swollen in ranks and named Natural Information Society Community Ensemble with Ari Brown – play live in 2022, you’d have an idea of what’s in store for you on Since Time is Gravity. Even though they might not have been playing this particular material, the large ensemble interplay featured here was definitely on display in the live setting, as was Ari Brown’s crafty soloing. It’s prudent to note that the songs are shorter in comparison to the marathon that was Descension (Out of Our Constrictions), but this is great because as a listener you get to follow the group along a variety of pathways. It will be interesting to see where Abrams takes Natural Information Society next, but you can be sure of one thing: we at Dusted will love it.   

Pile — All Fiction (Exploding in Sound)

All Fiction by Pile

Who picked it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? Yes, Patrick said, “All Fiction furthers that thinking, another reason this feels less like a leap and more like a carefully considered step toward further Piledom — the band’s flowing, peripatetic nature makes writing about individual songs less important than considering the whole.”

Ray Garraty’s take:

All Fiction is anemic enough to ask yourself: do they eat enough? Rick Maguire’s voice here sounds like he could use more nutrients and proteins in his diet. He kind of wakes up on some tracks, like “Poisons,” yet core of the album is that sad, melancholic material disillusioned middle-aged men write. It’s Radiohead-ish, it’s rock-ish and it’s… just flat? If it’s really what fiction is these days, I better stick with nonfiction. 

The Reds, Pinks and Purples — The Town That Cursed Your Name (Slumberland Records)

The Town That Cursed Your Name by The Reds, Pinks & Purples

Who recommended it? Christian Carey

Did we review it? Yes; Jennifer Kelly wrote, “Glenn Donaldson puts a louder, fuzzier attack behind his gossamer-wistful songs this time, amping up the volume for a set of darker, more desolate tunes.”

Jonathan Shaw’s take: 

It seems to me that Pitchfork gets something right about the Reds, Pinks and Purples: Jude Noel’s review of The Town That Cursed Your Name notes, amid a breathlessly positive assessment, that the band’s records “simply pick up where the last left off, like a series of Moleskines filled end to end.” That may be so, and the consistency of Glenn Donaldson’s songcraft likely provides a good deal of the band’s appeal—but do you really want to spend time reading a batch of someone else’s Moleskines? The Whole Foods grocery lists and the snatches of wood-shopped poetry and the paragraphs of winsome repining? If so, check out “Almost Changed,” the ninth track on The Town That Cursed Your Name, which doesn’t quite brood and doesn’t quite whine and doesn’t really seem interested in making anything change in the first place. To be fair, it’s very, very hard to find fault with this record’s compositions, the rhymes and the musicianship, which are like a May breeze, a Monet pastel or a warm cup of ginger tea—or all three at once, in someone’s comfy suburban sunroom. If that’s your situation, maybe you don’t want (or need) much of anything to change. Must be nice. Here and there, The Town That Cursed Your Name stirs from its state of cloudless repose to threaten some fuss. “What Is a Friend?” picks up the pace and thrums and hums with something like urgency. Then Donaldson sings: “Dodged your call from the jail / No birthday card in the mail, I always fail / Maybe you lost the plot / You could have offered an opening slot, it’s food for thought.” The inside-baseball, indie-rock vernacular and the literate metaphors dominate the record’s lyrical register. They are always clever and inevitably build an emotional tone best described as precious mopery. The music of the Reds, Pinks and Purples is pretty and precise, and it winces when the world gets ugly. Unfortunately, it’s an ugly world.

Cécile McLorin Salvant—Melusine (Nonesuch)

Mélusine by Cecile McLorin Salvant

Who nominated it? Jason Bivins

Did we review it? No

Bill Meyer’s take:

Cécile McLorin Salvant isn’t exactly beyond my ken. If, like me, you spend time reading and writing for jazz publications, her name and striking taste in eyewear are inescapable. However, having caught her some years back at the Chicago Jazz Festival, I was under the impression that she was a skilled but hardly innovative jazz singer, so I haven’t been trying to keep up. On a formal level, Melusine wipes the floor with that misconception. The material, which consists of original songs sung mostly in French and much older ones sourced from Francophone-adjacent cultures, is certainly not standard. Subtle production touches situate this recording in the 21st century without lapsing into pop pandering. And her singing, which is both technically unassailable and emotionally communicative, transcends any linguistic barriers. There’s a lot to appreciate here; thanks for the tip, Jason.

Tacoma Park — Tacoma Park (self released)

Tacoma Park by Tacoma Park

Who picked it? Ian Mathers

Did we review it? Yes, Ian wrote, “Tacoma Park manages the always-difficult feat of simultaneously reading as the heady product of multiple creative minds in deep conversation and yet fluid and confident enough in its own voice that the result still registers as singular.”

Tim Clarke’s take:

This self-titled duo recording by John Harrison and Ben Felton documents a fruitful pandemic collaboration, overflowing with possibility. With each track built around a handful of rhythmic and melodic ideas, the music is given plenty of air to breathe, plenty of time to evolve. Fingerpicked acoustic guitar and arpeggiated synths dominate the palette, then there’s some drums here and there, both live kit and electronic. At 68 minutes, Tacoma Park is a long record that meanders a fair bit, but it feels like it reaches an apex of sorts with “Circles As A Path As A Valley,” a nearly eight-minute exercise in cathartic layering. Beyond that point, drum-machine-driven tracks such as “We Lost Our Place, We Started Over” and “I Left My Wallet in the 90s” (great title) feel like starting points for another project entirely, or a postscript pointing towards recordings to come. 

Tørrfall — Tørrfall (Den Pene Inngang)

Tørrfall by Tørrfall

Who picked it? Ian Mathers

Did we review it? Yes. Ian wrote, “If there’s intoxication here, it’s the post-panic euphoria of a body running out of air; and if this is water music, it’s for currents deep enough they’ve forgotten what the waves are, if they ever knew.”

Patrick Masterson’s take:

In a way, I’m tor[r]n. Tørrfall’s “psychedelic water music” can at times feel languid and flowing as water is, so I see where both the band and Ian are coming from — but what I hear more over these four songs that all clock in between nine and 13 minutes is an alien drone, something elemental but not necessarily earthen. The key to that otherworldliness is Nils Erga’s synthesizer work and wordless vocals: Hovering like a UFO over the rubbery, at times counterintuitive basslines of Kristoffer Riis and Thore Warland’s rainshower percussion, Erga graces these tracks with an omnipresent ethereality that suggests terrain not entirely our own. The music can’t help but follow: Not quite jazz, not quite krautrock, not quite drone, not quite house or techno, Tørrfall skirts the fringes of each to make an entrancing, immersive sonic universe (calling it a mere world feels insufficient) all its own that, headphones or speakers, the louder you play it, the more unsettling it gets. I can’t imagine how these guys must translate live.

Wound Man — Human Outline (Iron Lung)

Human Outline by Wound Man

Who nominated it? Jonathan Shaw

Did we review it? Yes, Jonathan wrote, “The whole record is a barely contained bundle of nerves, electric, hardened, threatening to come completely undone. For those of us walking around in twenty-first-century cities full of anger, suffering and insanity, Human Outline feels infuriatingly apt, mad and full of madness. It’s a terrific record.”

Jennifer Kelly’s take:

In his review, Jon spends a fair amount of time considering which metal subgenre Wound Man belongs to, a subject that I can contribute exactly nothing to. I can say, however, that Wound Man grips and ravages, at slow speeds and fast ones. I like the blistered assaults of “Leashed,” mad forward surges of rabid energy that hurtle forward at mouth-foaming speed, then pull back abruptly, as if on a choke chain. “Punisher” does exactly what the title implies, disintegrating guitar tone into buzzing aggression with sheer force of speed and volume. These cuts are over before they get started—the title track, for instance, is 40 seconds long—but you’ll feel the impact in your gut and ear canal long afterwards.

Yo La Tengo — This Stupid World (Matador)

This Stupid World by Yo La Tengo

Who picked it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? Yes. Tim Clarke said of the closing track that it’s "a searingly emotional purge and soothing balm all rolled in one.”

Ian’s take:

These assignments really are actually selected randomly (there are slips of paper and everything!) but it so happens that not only was I already enjoying This Stupid World but that Bryon and I wound up representing Dusted’s Canadian wing at the Toronto stop of YLT’s tour for this record. We had tickets before I got selected to cover it here, even! As a moderate fan of the band (love some classic albums of theirs, have been sorta half-paying-attention to the new stuff for a while now), this is actually the first time I’ve really sat down and engaged with a new Yo La Tengo record in years. That means I can’t really compare it to the last couple, but it feels like I picked a good time to check back in. That closing track, “Miles Away,” might be my favorite song of theirs plus or minus a “Night Falls on Hoboken” (perhaps unsurprisingly, there’s some overlap in vibes there), but overall this is a packed and consistently great 48 minutes. The skronky ones go for it, the gentle ones do in fact soothe, and the deadpan yo-yo tricks on James McNew showcase “Tonight’s Episode” tickled me. To still make records as good as Painful, nearly 30 years after they made Painful? That’s a significant achievement.

Yves Tumor — Praise a Lord Who Chews But Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds) (Warp)

Who nominated it? Patrick Masterton

Did we review it? No

Andrew Forell’s take:

Having been peripherally aware of Yves Tumor I was excited to hear Praise a Lord..., and when it hits it’s very good with Tumor coming on like a latter-day Prince. Their combination of alternative guitars, courtesy of producer Alan Moulder and swaggering RnB is compelling. “God is a Circle,” “Lovely Sewer” and “Operator” have a real edge and a sense of transgressive danger, but other tracks are weighed down by the everything-including-the-kitchen-sink operatics that plague Kevin Barnes’ most indulgent moments with of Montreal. Having said that, this is a really enjoyable, immaculate sounding record and you can’t help but be won over by Tumor’s charismatic performance and their willingness to take risks.

#dusted magazine #midyear #midyear 2023 #kookei #ray garraty #tim clarke #kali malone #jason bivins #andrew forell #natural information society #bill meyer #christian carey #bryon hayes #pile #patrick masterson #reds pinks and purples #jonathan shaw #cecile mclorin salvant #tacoma park #ian mathers #Tørrfall #wound man #yo la tengo #yves tumor

[dustedmagazine]

Dusted Mid-Year 2023, Part One

Meg Baird photo by Rachael Cassells

It’s halfway through another year, and while that doesn’t seem possible, the trail of good-to-excellent releases argues otherwise. We celebrate as always by picking our favorites and then forcing them on unsuspecting colleagues. The Dusted Mid-Year Swap is almost entirely random, with assignments picked from a bowl and limited options for getting out of them. It’s also one of our most popular features, both internally and among our readers.

Although we don’t pursue consensus — and in fact, quite the opposite, we value the diversity of taste and opinion among our writers — some years we have a clear winner. Out of deference to our most dominant mid-year artist ever, we call them “this year’s Heron Oblivion.” In 2023, that’s especially appropriate since the artist that won the mid-year is also in Heron Oblivion. That’s Meg Baird, whose Furling captured the affection of a broad spectrum of writers. Yo La Tengo was the closest behind, with punkish The Drin and drone-experimental Natural Information Society also in the hunt.

But while we agree sometimes, at others we don’t, and you’ll notice that a good sprinkling of writers were not entirely on board with their assignments. That’s okay. It’s good for us to hear stuff we don’t like, too. It’s part of a balanced musical diet.

We begin with the first half of the alphabet with artists from Algiers to James Ilgenfritz represented. Check back tomorrow for the second half and the next day for our writers’ lists.

Algiers — Shook (Matador)

Shook by Algiers

Who nominated it? Andrew Forell

Did we review it? Yes, Andrew wrote, “Switching organically between punk, gospel, soul, hip hop, jazz and afro-futurism, Algiers speaks directly to a world under siege.”

Jennifer Kelly’s take:

On this tour de force, Algiers doesn’t so much blend African American musical styles as find the sinews and tendons and veins that connect them. “Everybody Shatter” alone morphs from minimalist techno beat to menacing rock to old-school hip hop shout-crossing call and response, and that’s just the opening salvo. The guests run the gamut from current hip hop phenom Billy Woods to DC punk mainstay Mark Cisneros to free-jazz sax experimenter Patrick Shiroishi, with a startlingly moving bit of poetry at the end from Glory Fires front man Lee Bains. “Comment #2” records an unnamed young woman wondering why the discourse about black America focuses so much on suffering, rather than the hope and joy and resilience that her community also manifests. Shook soaks up all elements of that multi-faceted experience, with fierce joy, unrelenting honesty and surges of pure musical exhilaration. Powerful stuff.

Arrowounds — In the Octopus Pond (Lost Tribe Sound)

In The Octopus Pond by ARROWOUNDS

Who nominated it? Tim Clarke

Did we review it? Yes, Tim wrote, “The sounds and how they’re treated go a long way towards mustering a unique, shadowy atmosphere, which is sustained throughout the album’s 45 minutes.”

Christian Carey’s take: 

Ambient’s revival has lasted longer than its initial incarnations and cast a wider net as to the music it encompasses. Releases like In the Octopus Pond by Arrowounds (Ryan Chamberlain) demonstrate why this can be all to the good. An example is the use of a repeated post-rock riff, sustained synth lines, and samples of water in “Spectral Colours of Science,” a standout. In another melange,“Phosphene Silver Abyss” pits a loping bass riff against glissando-filled distorted electric guitar and subdued keyboards. An engaging listen throughout.

Meg Baird — Furling (Drag City)

Furling by Meg Baird

Who picked it? Jennifer Kelly

Did we review it? Yes, Tim Clarke wrote, “Welcome to one of the first great records of the young year.”

Jason Bivins’ take:

I’ve actually been living with and loving this record for many months now. Baird’s got an extraordinary voice and a real knack for both songwriting and arranging. There’s a compelling argument to be made that Furling is her strongest recording. From the outset, it’s clear that this is music that is intimate and reflective and admirably uncluttered. Chords or arpeggios shine through without excess, with gentle strumming and a light touch on the snare making a nice slide for Baird’s angelic voice to glide down. Often she layers her voice, harmonizing way up there over gentle guitar, but she also sinks right in between the chords here and there. Some tracks, like “Star Hill Song,” dial into conventional song-form more than others, but there’s always a gorgeous blend of the earthy and the ethereal. Star-skirling guitars glide atop a tasty pulse, or spare piano grounding textural clouds, always focused on Baird’s somewhat breathy voice and distinctive vibrato. In all my listening, I don’t even focus too much on the lyrics, which only float up for me on occasion. I just allow myself to be hypnotized by the unpretentious beauty of this music.

Big Blood — First Aid Kit (Ba Da Bing/Feeding Tube Records)

First Aid Kit by Big Blood

Who picked it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? Yes, Bill Meyer said, “Their production has a steam-pressed quality, as though the background instrumental sounds had all been ironed onto the tape. Voices and drums, however, jump out of the mix, which suits the songs’ sturdy hooks.”

Ray Garraty’s take:

The opening track “In My Head” might fool you that this is a modern take on rockabilly and 1990s indie pop, something that is not easy to stomach in large quantities. But things change drastically after that, with “Haunted”, possibly the best track on the whole CD. A bit of Sparks, a bit of Kate Bush, a bit of your favorite bedroom pop band, Big Blood is a mix of all that but with a twist. First Aid Kit sounds lo-fi enough not to be too grandiose and tiring and clean enough not to fall into the category of bedroom rumblings made for a few friends. The choruses are haunting you, indeed, and stick in mind for days. It closes with a track called “Weird Road Pt. 1,” and it is a weird road for sure. Weird and just great.

BIG|BRAVE — nature morte (Thrill Jockey)

nature morte by BIG|BRAVE

Who picked it? Jonathan Shaw

Did we review it? Yes, Jonathan said, “The title of nature morte might reference death, but this music is frightfully, joyfully and overwhelmingly alive.”

Bryon Hayes’ take:

There’s heavy music that attempts to pulverize your grey matter into oblivion, and then there’s nature morte. This is music that gets under your skin with its dual guitar wall of noise and its sludgy rhythms. What’s really arresting is the intensity of Robin Wattie’s vocals, and how she transitions from a measured attack into all-out screaming almost instantaneously. I don’t usually thirst for music on the heavier end of the spectrum, but I found myself strangely attracted to this record. Images of EMA covering Nirvana’s “Endless, Nameless” kept swirling through my head as I digested the record for the first time. The maelstrom conjured by the two guitars, the pounding of the drums, and Wattie’s almost pleading vocals coalesce into a near-crystalline molasses that somehow manages to flow with enough sweetness to appeal to all manner of listener. Even if you tend to enjoy softer sounds, you should give this album a spin. 

Cellow — Ghetto Takeover (Jugg$treet)

Who picked it? Ray Garraty

Did we review it? No

Jason Bivins’ take:

An EP should be concise, a marker of method and style on the journey to completing a larger project. Or, it should whet the appetite by introducing a new voice, the promise of distinction. Cellow’s six-song, eighteen-minute slice from earlier this year is, by contrast, somehow meandering. On the final track, he proposes: “Let’s do a tape in a fucking night.” Which, apparently, is actually how this project came together. And oof, does it sound it. The production is dated and drab, the beats pedestrian, and the rhymes predictably grandiose and misanthropic in equal measure. For example, he boasts, “that’s a 2012 Benz, not a spaceship” and “I just got $200 for an 8th of Splenda.” He fat-shames women, disses Obama and otherwise romps over his “clown-ass” competitors. If only he were actually compelling as a verbal stylist. But no: after yet another “Strange Fruit” sample on “Ain’t Come to Play,” he fumbles the attempted double-time spitting. It’s embarrassingly undercooked and awkward, especially the two tracks without Rio Da Yung OG.

Elkhorn — On the Whole Universe in All Directions (Centripetal Force)

On The Whole Universe In All Directions by Elkhorn

Who nominated it? Bill Meyer

Did we review it? No.

Christian Carey’s take:

For their latest recording, On the Whole Universe in All Directions, Elkhorn (acoustic 12-string guitarist Jesse Shephard and electric guitarist/percussionist Drew Gardner) explore each principal direction of the compass (North-South-East-West) on four tracks. The vibraphone is a new addition, and the textures created by vibes and 12-string in combination on “North” and “South” are mesmerizing. Splash cymbals and alternate scales provide a (perhaps inevitable) exoticism to “East.” Correspondingly, “West” shares minimal folk inflections and a winsome melody. Elkhorn has executed a successful transformation.

Robert Forster — The Candle and the Flame (Tapete)

The Candle And The Flame by Robert Forster

Who picked it? Jennifer Kelly

Did we review it? Yes. Andrew Forell wrote, “Forster’s observational directness and simple language are always in service to the deep feeling in his songs and few better imbue the quotidian joys of domestic life and the power of memory with such poetry.”

Patrick Masterson’s take:

Not being much of an ardent Go-Betweens fan, I went into The Candle and the Flame with little expectation beyond the notion that Forster would be chronicling the relationship with his wife, who was diagnosed with and got treated for ovarian cancer around the three years these songs were conceived. What I can’t help but admire is how he throws you akimbo right away with “She’s a Fighter,” which attacks the illness directly and immediately (with the help of the whole family, even!) in a rollicking folk-punk style. Duly done and dusted, Forster turns his attention to the deeper reserves of their personal history, reminiscing about meetings in Germany and walking to school in the ‘60s and the general weathering of life in a more relaxed, fittingly contemplative manner. You can tell without knowing anymore than I did that he’s been doing this long enough that songwriting comes naturally to him by now no matter the topic — an artist with an innate gift honed over decades that shines best at its most unvarnished.

Asher Gamedze — Turbulence and Pulse (International Anthem/Mushroom Hour Half Hour)

Turbulence and Pulse by Asher Gamedze

Who picked it? Andrew Forell

Did we review it? Nope

Ian Mathers’ take:

This is a very good record that I feel like I got a few mistaken impressions of! The blurb on the Bandcamp page talks a lot about percussion in a way that made me think this was going to be more beat-centric, and then the opening almost-title track “Turbulence’s Pulse” does go in that direction, combined with a speech about the intersection of rhythms, history and politics. It kind of rules, and then the record pivots on “Wynter Time” to what sounds to my (admittedly not-super-genre-savvy) ears like a pretty straightforward jazz track. Not that Gamedze’s drumming isn’t vital to those proceedings, and it continues to be impressive throughout, but we get a lot more of that latter mode over these 80 minutes (including 20 minutes of live versions of tracks from this album, which may be catnip to real heads but to relative novice me don’t stand out enough to want both). But neither “it’s a bit long for me” or “it’s not exactly what I expected” are big complaints, and they’re more than outweighed by the quality of Gamedze’s playing and the rest of the ensemble, especially Robin Fassie on trumpet and Buddy Wells on tenor saxophone, who wound up drawing a lot of my focus. When things get moving on “Locomotion” and “Out Stepped Zim” the results are great, even if I could also love a record more directly in line with “Turbulence’s Pulse.” 

Jana Horn — The Window Is the Dream (No Quarter)

The Window Is The Dream by Jana Horn

Who recommended it? Tim Clarke

Did we review it? Yes; Tim wrote, “Horn weaves in an undeniable magic. Much like the soap bubble on the album’s cover, hold this music up to the light and it refracts a surprising array of beautiful colors.”

Jonathan Shaw’s take: The variety of wispy, delicate, singer-songwriter music that Jana Horn makes generally puts me to sleep—a fact for which I am grateful, since prolonged exposure to qualities like “wispy” and “delicate” isn’t a happy event for me. And to be sure, Horn’s mannered, near-expressionless alto—full of little gulps and breathy intonations that are simultaneously arch and bloodless—is mildly irritating. But setting those subjective responses aside, there are things to admire on The Window Is the Dream. Horn has a distinct compositional sensibility, which is affecting in direct proportion to its spareness. See the music of “Old Friend,” which skitters and halts, but maintains its sense of grace and composure. The arrangement builds some momentum, and when Horn cuts it all off, with peremptory force, it’s satisfying. Throughout the record, Horn demonstrates that musical sense for timing and mood; see especially the overlay of dissonances that emerges after the careful combinations and constructions of the opening three minutes of “In Between.” But for this listener, Horn’s singing cancels those urgencies and complexities. I get it: the contrast between her prettily blank vocals and the music’s by-turns dreamy and antsy textures will please some. But these precise, calculated gestures don’t make any magic for me.

James Ilgenfritz—#entrainments (Infrequent Seams)

#entrainments by James Ilgenfritz

Who nominated it? Christian Carey

Did we review it? No

Bill Meyer’s take:

Here’s a record that’s well within my wheelhouse, but which I had skipped over on account of there being a lot of music out there. It turns out that #entrainments deeply rewards investigation. It succeeds at being an engaging listen as well as formally creative. Bassist/composer James Ilgenfritz hasn’t just crafted some appealing melodies, he has made them part of a system of meta-responses that can be restructured on the fly. His combo, which includes drummer Gerry Hemingway, alto saxophonist Angelica Niescier and cellist Nathan Bontrager, is tuned into the multiple levels at which this music needs to work, and sounds equally persuasive realizing the cut-and-thrust of “#frontmatter,” which reminds me in a good way of old Henry Threadgill records, and the chamber combo with dissenting drums treatment of “#squarequotes.” A comprehensive review of this album would delve deep into its backstory of health travails and compositional strategizing, but since we’re keeping it brief, suffice to say that if you like your jazz sturdy, nuanced, and inclusive, #entrainments will deliver the goods, and follow them up with a bounty of bonuses.

#dusted magazine #midyear #midyear 2023 #algiers #jennifer kelly #andrew forell #arrowounds #tim clark #christian carey #meg baird #jason bivins #big blood #bill meyer #ray garraty #big brave #jonathan shaw #bryon hayes #cellow #elkhorn #robert forster #patrick masterson #asher gamedze #jana horn #james ilgenfritz

[dustedmagazine]

Dusted Mid-Year 2023, Part Three (The Lists)

Natural Information Society

Swapping records is fun, but when it comes down to it, we like what we like.  What’s that?  Glad you asked.  Read on for our writers’ mid-year favorites.    

Jennifer Kelly

Meg Baird — Furling (Drag City)

Robert Forster — The Candle and the Flame (Tapete) 

The Drin — Today My Friend You Drunk the Venom (Feel It)

En Attendant Ana — Principia (Trouble in Mind)

Stella Kola—S-T (Self-Release)

Mudhoney — Plastic Eternity (Sub Pop)

Sleaford Mods — UK Grim (Domino)

The Tubs — Dead Meat (Trouble in Mind)

Nighttime — Keeper Is the Heart (BaDaBing)

Purling Hiss — Drag on Girard (Drag City)

Lonnie Holley — Oh Me Oh My (Jagjaguwar)

The Toads—In the Wilderness (Upset the Rhythm)

Dan Melchior—Welcome to Redacted City (Midnight Cruiser)

James and the Giants—S-T (Kill Rock Stars)

Ben Chasny and Rick Tomlinson—Waves (VOIX)

Bill Meyer

Natural Information Society — Since Time Is Gravity (Eremite)

Elkhorn — On the Whole Universe in All Directions (Centripetal Force)

Meg Baird — Furling (Drag City)

Robert Forster — The Candle and the Flame (Tapete) 

The Necks — Travel (Northern Spy)

Milford Graves — Children of the Forest (Black Editions)

Peter Brötzman  Heather Leigh — Naked Nudes (Trost)

Yo La Tengo — This Stupid World (Matador)

Magic Tuber Band — Tarantism (Feeding Tube)

Drew Gardner — Flowers in Space (Feeding Tube)

Jozef Van Wissem and Jim Jarmusch — American Landscapes (Incunambulum)

Dave Rempis/Elisabeth Harnik/Tim Daisy — Earscratcher (Aerophonic)

Alasdair Roberts — Grief in the Kitchen and Mirth in the Hall (Drag City)

Jonathan Shaw

BIG BRAVE — nature morte (Thrill Jockey)

Wound Man — Human Outline (Iron Lung) 

Gel — Only Constant (Convulse)

Home Front — Games of Power (La Vida Es Un Mus)

Sleaford Mods — UK Grim (Domino)

Spirit Possession — Of the Sign… (Profound Lore)

Bryon Hayes

Yo La Tengo — This Stupid World (Matador)

Big Blood — First Aid Kit (Feeding Tube / BaDaBing)

Meg Baird — Furling (Drag City)

Califone — Villagers (Jealous Butcher)

M. Sage — Paradise Crick (RVNG Intl.)

The Reds, Pinks & Purples — The Town That Cursed Your Name (Slumberland)

John Atkinson — Energy Fields (AKP Recordings)

Joseph Allred — What Strange Flowers Grow in the Shade (Feeding Tube)

The Far Sound — The Far Sound (Centripetal Force)

Ulaan Khol — Milk Thistle (Desastre)

Powers / Pulice / Rolin — Prism (Cached Media)

Lia Kohl — The Ceiling Reposes (American Dreams)

Tim Clarke

Jana Horn — The Window Is The Dream (No Quarter)

Arrowounds — In The Octopus Pond (Lost Tribe Sound)

Meg Baird — Furling (Drag City)

Pile — All Fiction (Exploding In Sound)

Tim Hecker — No Highs (Kranky)

Califone — Villagers (Jealous Butcher)

King Krule — Space Heavy (XL/Matador)

This Is The Kit — Careful Of Your Keepers (Rough Trade)

Cory Hanson — Western Cum (Drag City)

Andy Shauf — Norm (Anti-)

Patrick Masterson

Pile —  All Fiction (Exploding in Sound)

Yves Tumor — Praise a Lord Who Chews But Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds) (Warp)

Wednesday — Rat Saw God (Dead Oceans)

Jayda G — Guy (Ninja Tune)

Ryuichi Sakamoto — 12 (Milan)

Malla — Fresko (Solina)

Skech185 — He Left Nothing for the Swim Back (Backwoodz Studioz)

Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru — Jerusalem (Mississippi)

Meg Baird — Furling (Drag City)

Andrea — Due in Color (Ilian Tape)

Memphis LK — Too Much Fun EP (Remote Control)

BigXthaPlug — Amar (United Masters)

Andrew Forell

Algiers — Shook (Matador)

King Vision Ultra — Shook World (Hosted by Algiers)

Asher Gamedze — Turbulence & Pulse (International Anthem)

99LETTERS — Makafushigi (Disciples)

The Drin— Today My Friend You Drunk the Venom (Drunken Sailor)

Comet Gain — The Misfit Jukebox (Tapete)

billy woods & Kenny Segal — Maps (Backwoodz Studioz)

Kevin Richard Martin — Above the Clouds (self-released)

SQÜRL — Silver Haze (Sacred Bones)

The Murder Capital — Gigi’s Recovery (Human Season)

Parasite Jazz — Paradise Jazz (Disques de la Spirale)

Christian Carey

The Reds, Pinks, and Purples — The Town that Cursed Your Name (Slumberland)

Aaron Cassidy —  A Way of Making Ghosts (Kairos)

Arrowounds —  In the Octopus Pond (Settled Scores)

V/A – Red Hot and Ra: Nuclear War LP (Red Hot)

Oval —  Romantiq (Thrill Jockey)

Meg Baird —  Furling (Drag City)

Black Duck —  S/T (Thrill Jockey)

Mother, Sister, Daughter —  Musica Secreta (Lucky Music)

Natural Information Society – Since Time is Gravity (Eremite)

Alasdair Roberts —  Grief in the Kitchen and Mirth in the Hall (Drag City)

Fever Ray —  Radical Romantics (Mute)

James Romig —  Spaces (Sawyer Editions)

Brad Mehldau —  Your Mother Should Know (Nonesuch)

Nina Berman and Steve Beck —  Milton Babbitt: Works for Treble Voice and Piano (New Focus)

Marc Ducret —  Palm Sweat (Out of Your Head)

Jennifer Grim —  Through Broken Time (New Focus)

Erkki — Sven Tüür: Canticum Canticorum Caritatis (Alpha Classics)

James Ilgenfritz —  #entrainments (Frequent Seams)

Brandon Lopez —  vilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevilevile (TAO Forms)

Lonnie Holley —  Oh Me Oh My (Jagjaguwar)

John Liberatore —  Catch Somewhere (New Focus Recordings)

Sebastian Rochford, Kit Downes —  A Short Diary (ECM Records)

Frederic Rzewski —  Late Piano Works (Naxos)

Rebecca Saunders —  Skin (NMC)

Guided by Voices —  La La Land (self— released)

Susan Narucki and Donald Berman —  This Island (Avie)

Chamber Music From Hell —  Chris Opperman (Purple Cow)

Elkhorn —  On the Whole Universe in All Directions (Centripetal Force)

Purling Hiss —  Drag on Girard (Drag City)

Caterina Barbieri —  Myuthafoo (light-years)

Yo La Tengo — This Stupid World (Matador)

Ian Mathers

Fifteen, in alphabetical order:

Aarktica — Paeans (Projekt)

Acid King — Beyond Vision (Blues Funeral)

ALL HANDS_MAKE LIGHT — “Darling the Dawn” (Constellation)

Avalon Emerson — & the Charm (Another Dove)

Brìghde Chaimbeul — Carry Them With Us (Tak:til)

The Drin — Today My Friend You Drunk the Venom (Feel It)

Ladytron — Time’s Arrow (Cooking Vinyl)

loscil // Lawrence English — Colours of Air (Kranky)

Meg Baird — Furling (Drag City)

Mute Duo — Migrant Flocks (American Dreams)

The National — First Two Pages of Frankenstein (4AD)

Tacoma Park — Tacoma Park (Self Released)

Tørrfall — Tørrfall (De Pene Inngang)

Yo La Tengo — This Stupid World (Matador)

Yves Tumor — Praise a Lord Who Chews but Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds) (Warp)

Derek Taylor

New releases

Kirk Knuffke & Joe McPhee Quartet + 1 — Keep the Dream Up (Fundacja Sluchaj)

Natural Information Society — Time is Gravity (Eremite/Aguirre)

Aruán Ortiz — Serranias — Sketchbook for Piano Trio (Intakt)

Mark Dresser — Tines of Change (Pyroclastic)

Andrew Cyrille — Music Delivery/Percussion (Intakt)

Steve Millhouse — The Undwinding (Steeplechase) 

Archival Releases

The Jazz Doctors — Intensive Care/Prescriptions Filled: The Billy Bang Quartet Sessions 1983/1984 (Cadillac)

Milford Graves w/ Arthur Doyle & Hugh Glover — Children of the Forest (Black Editions)

Abdul Wadud — By Myself (Bisharra/Gotta Groove)

Sirone — Artistry (Of the Cosmos/Moved By Sound)

Marion Brown — Mary Ann: Live in Bremen 1969 (Moosicus)

Steve Swell’s Fire Into Music — For Jemeel: Fire From the Road (2005-2006) (RogueArt)

Margaret Welsh

Wheatie Mattiasich — Old Glow (Open Mouth)

Rozi Plain — Prize (Memphis Industries)

Glass Triangle — Blue and Sun-lights  (Relative Pitch)

Andy Shauf — Norm (Anti)

Yo La Tengo — This Stupid World (Matador)

Horse Jumper of Love —Heartbreak Rules (Run for Cover)

Bill Orcutt  — Jump On It (Palilalia)

Lana Del Rey — Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd (Interscope)

#dusted magazine #midyear #midyear 2023 #writers lists #jennifer kelly #bill meyer #jonathan shaw #bryon hayes #tim clarke #patrick masterson #ian mathers #derek taylor #margaret welsh #christian carey #andrew forell

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 9, Number 12

James Elkington

Last Dust of the year and, holy cow, next year will be a whole decade since we started.  We’re working with a bit of skeleton crew this time because of the holidays, but still managed to take in a broad spectrum of music, from famous novelists on holiday to monochord droners to surprisingly joyful takes on saudade.  Dusted writers who shrugged off Christmas shopping, wrapping and general festivity long enough to write included Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Ian Mathers and Bryon Hayes.  Happy new year and see you in 2024. 

Gabriel Birnbaum—Nightwater/all the dead do is dream (Western Vinyl)

Gabriel Birnbaum, leader of the indie band Wilder Maker and one-time saxophonist in the ethio-jazz Debo Band, started making music on a Tascam four-track during the pandemic. It was, at first, a way to keep busy, to keep the dread at bay, but it evolved into a regular meditative practice and, eventually, a public-facing recording project, now releasing on the esteemed Western Vinyl imprint. This second release under the Nightwater banner is, as all that history suggests, a serene and unruffled piece of work, using mostly synthetic textures but also incorporating some rougher, more organic sounds. “above a forest with a house that’s on fire” pulses with bright keyboard tones that blow up unexpectedly into dissonance periodically. It moves deliberately, placidly, from here to there, letting sustained tones linger over insistent cadences. “i ordered a beer that never came,” is a bit livelier, with claves-ish clicks and percolating guitar; it dances a bit and flares into jazzy bravado. Some of these cuts have a dream-like aura, like the child’s wind-up lullaby “through a gauntlet of moonlit junk” with its sliding, morphing guitar notes, arcing over bell-tone intricacies. This is an album that works best in darkness and calm; use it as background music and it will disappear.

Jennifer Kelly

Max Eastley / Terry Day / John Butcher—Angles of Enquiry (Confront)

It would be easy to focus on the personally and sonically idiosyncratic aspects of this recording. Given that it’s just one string on a block of wood Max Eastley’s monochord has a spectacularly flexible sound bank; sometimes he sounds like a Vietnamese dan bau, and other times like a reportable manufacturing safety incident. Terry Day’s drumming manages to combine a respect for space with a brisk harshness that keeps things on point; rumor has it that he was not enamored of the drumkit that was supplied to him, and there’s certainly no kindness in his audible touch. And John Butcher’s saxophone playing is, as usual, adroit and immaculately controlled while inhabiting a realm of sounds that others imitate at their peril. But what keeps me coming back to this humble CD-r, which is part of the Confront label’s Core series of new recordings of improvised music, is the way this music feels simultaneously sudden and proportional. The three minds that imagined this music are not only responsive improvisers, but a formidable compositional collective.

Bill Meyer

James Elkington—Me Neither (Important)

James Elkington is an exceptional guitar player, the top-of-list sideman for Wilco and Richard Thompson and an accomplished and fluid folk-indie songwriter, whose agile picking is matched by a sardonic lyrical wit. Me Neither showcases the former, but not the latter, in a series of 29 short, improvised pieces Elkington recorded during the pandemic. There is some lovely playing here in the brief but radiant “Today’s Dictation,” the Brit-folk pavane of “The Incredible Waist of Time,” the buzzy, squeaky urgency of “Where For Do I Run.” Indeed, these cuts are, to a one, rather beautiful for the one or two minutes in which they flare and die. Even, so the overall result is unsatisfying. It’s like making a meal out of happy hour hors d'oeuvres, each bite tasty and caloric, but fleeting.

Jennifer Kelly

Neil Gaiman and the FourPlay String Quartet—Signs of Life (Instrumental)

“Mobius Strip” is an intricate bit of musical machinery. Its pizzicato architecture meshes like sparking gears; its winding violin melody careens wildly over prickly structures. It neither recedes nor predominates over Neil Gaiman’s spoken word, fitting neatly in the spaces he leaves in a fascinating, ruminative story about the twisted paper ring that stands in for eternity. The piece is that most difficult of verbal maneuvers, the extended metaphor, which Gaiman sticks like a gymnast’s landing. His starts with Gaiman’s grandfather demonstrating how you can trace your finger along its surface, traveling from one side to the other without ever breaking contact. It becomes a way of looking at life, connection and the unexpected. As Gaiman concludes, “It’s the twist that brings you back where you started.” “Mobius Strip” is maybe the best and most impressive cut from Signs of Life, but not by much. Joan of Arc makes a disruptive reappearance in raucous, “The Problem with Saints,” while “Credo” recounts Gaiman’s free-thinking philosophy against the throb of mournful cello and viola. There are long extinct animals and barely remembered life turning points and a meditation on death, all spirited and inventive and absolutely without sentimentality. You will hear the words first—you can’t help it—but as you listen, you’ll also notice how well the music supports and nourishes the poetry.

The music on this disc comes from what was intended as a one-time collaboration between celebrated sci-fi/fantasy author Neil Gaiman and Australia’s hippest string quartet. The author’s knotty, reflective spoken word entwined with the FourPlay String Quartet’s spare, rhythmic accompaniment first for a commission at the Sydney Opera House’s Graphic Festival. It went so well that the artists recorded it, had it illustrated and released it as a book, e-book and CD—they have since performed it in New York and London. It is a marvelous piece of work, odd and unsettling, bent and beautiful. I’m not much novelists in rock bands, generally, but this is different.

Jennifer Kelly

Peppermint Moon—Pocket Dial Tears (Self-Released)

Peppermint Moon makes a jangly, mildly psychedelic power pop that might, in other decades, be regarded as Paisley underground. A one-man project of Colin Schitt, who also plays in El Radio Fantastique. Pocket Dial Tears works the tuneful, happy-sad vein of Anton Barbeau, the Lilys and the Young Fresh Fellows, with well-shaped melodies made for staring wistfully out of windows. “I Thought I Knew” lays yearning, reverberating surf guitar licks atop bittersweet, rain-through-sunshine verses; the song has a drifting, musing propulsion, its wry confessions and fiery guitar solos evoking Steve Wynn & the Miracle 3. “Day to Day” pivots more delicately on a music box melody, whammied guitar notes vibrating in the ether around the verse and a little bit of string romanticism swooping in at the interstices. “He She They” is maybe the best of the lot, a lament about being misunderstood spun out into baroque pop grandeur.

Jennifer Kelly

Polyorchard — scree/n (Trip Ticks Tapes)

scree/n is a single, multifaceted improvisation, recorded remotely by an illustrious crew and extending without break for an hour and 20 minutes. David Menestres solicited contributions from Gastr del Sol-into-Black Faurest mainstay David Grubbs, Exploding Star Orchestra’s Jeb Bishop on trombone and experimental saxophonists Laurent Estoppey and Catherine Sikora, a passel of experimental composers and out-there bassist Ollie Brice, then pieced them together in a composition that feels somewhat episodic but not incohesive. It starts in the frayed blowing, a saxophone tone split into two pieces, full of air. This whispery invocation fades, and then the music starts to dance then, another sax (or maybe the same one) kicking out in blowsy frolic, then settling to buzz again. Now a bit of percussion enters in, now a subdued screech of feedback builds in the background. Blasts of noise hammer through contemplative intervals of saxophone. A tune emerges and disappears into buzz and squawk and rumble. A roiling surf wave of noise that maybe comes from an acoustic bass played unconventionally squalls amid rattling knocks on wood. Still the sax persists in making a song out of things, fluttering and beckoning and flirting back at you over one shoulder as it saunters into the maw of things. At the half hour mark you begin to hear David Grubbs in lucid, lyrical chords, placed at wide intervals like wickets on a croquet course that the sax must thread through. Explosive noise erupts and just as suddenly recedes. Serene and unhurried, but somehow also full of sturm and howl, scree/n is a perfect metaphor for our age’s listless anxiety, our ceaseless striving to make sense and beauty out of accumulated sensory inputs.

Jennifer Kelly

Nicole Rampersaud — Saudade (Ansible Editions)

The Portuguese word saudade has no direct translation to English but evokes a complicated mixture of emotions: deep sorrow, wistfulness, longing for a past that brought joy. Toronto composer/improviser and trumpeter Nicole Rampersaud’s debut solo outing complicates matters in that it revels in moving forward and pushing against boundaries. Shards of digital noise hold equal weight to her trumpet intonations, raw breath, puckering and clucking. There’s an immensity at play as the elements interact. Multiple layers pile onto the fray that Rampersaud provokes, such that she conjures a nervous energy. The sparks fly, and her trumpet lines weave around the nests of glowing particles, hoping to avoid catching fire. Perhaps she’s avoiding her own sense of saudade by outpouring such rich and spirited compositions. Regardless, Rampersaud’s music mirrors the complex nature of the term, rather than the literal emotions that lie beneath it. It’s we listeners who end up reaping the benefits, so this writer isn’t complaining.

Bryon Hayes

Andreas Røysum Ensemble — Mysterier (Motvind)

Mysterier (in English, Mysteries) is the third album by Norwegian clarinetist Andreas Røysum’s biggish band, which is populated by musicians who lead or are members of other bands on the Motvind roster. The label’s name translates to Headwind, whose diverse endeavors present an art-as-activism stance, and the album covers depicts the ensemble tying up Uncle Sam and deposing the Monopoly Man whilst dressed in fairytale drag. The music is correspondingly defiant and optimistic, marshalling celebratory grooves, folk melodies and free-ish horn solos to fight the powers that be. Singer Sofie Tollefsbøl’s two turns at the microphone tip the balance towards an English folk vibe, and the grandeur attained by their arrangement of “Barbara Allen puts the rest of the album in the shade. But if Steeleye Span dancing with Organic Music Society at the  protest sounds like your vibe, you’ll want to hear the whole thing, which is available on download, vinyl, and green-faced, short-run compact disc.

Bill Meyer

Spanish Love Songs — No Joy (Pure Noise)

The emotional arc between Spanish Love Songs’ last album and this one can be summed up by going from “my bleak mind says it’s cheaper just to die” to “you're not a cautionary tale/so don't you vanish on me.” The sonic one, meanwhile, comes with the Springsteenian synth backing that accompanies the latter song. Dylan Slocum and the rest of the band are still grappling with oppression both economic (“Clean-Up Crew”) and spiritual (“Rapture Seeker”), and with existentially paralyzing levels of depression (“I’m Gonna Miss Everything,” “Middle of Nine”). But the hard-won perseverance they’ve developed has clearly stuck with them and grown in strength. No Joy is less singularly pummelling, but it more than makes up for it by seamlessly folding in the influence of the band’s new wave and Americana forebears. Just as the February 2020-released Brave Faces Everyone accidentally fit the rest of that extremely dark year perfectly, No Joy feels like the right record for 2023; harrowing, but in a different way.

Ian Mathers

Tacoma Park — What About a Collage? (self released)

You could excuse Carrboro, NC duo Tacoma Park if they’d decided to rest on their laurels for the rest of 2023. Their self-titled second album, released in April, could be fairly considered a triumph (it was here at Dusted, for one), the culmination of years of adjusting to a new, pandemic-related creative practice, which also generated a series of singles (which they collected this September). That’s a productive year. Instead, Ben Felton and John Harrison have given us all this 40-minute new single. The title probably refers more to their taste in album art than the nature of “What About a Collage?” itself, because this is a pretty focused journey. It starts out a little more on the bleepy-bloopy end of things before whisking the listener off to a space where it feels like Ash Ra Tempel is playing around with Mountains. Eventually the whole thing ends with some beautiful interplay between what sounds like synthesized woodwinds and some plangent guitar. Good to hear that their lengthy, labyrinthine album doesn’t appear to have come anywhere close to tapping out their creativity.

Ian Mathers

Trespass Trio Featuring Susana Santos Silva — Live In Oslo (Clean Feed)

This summit between the Swedish Trespass Trio and the commanding Portuguese trumpeter, Susana Santos Silva, was recorded in 2018 and released in 2023. While the date span might suggest that it’s release was instigated by COVID-time shelf-cleaning, it takes just a few seconds to hear that the quality of the music was not a factor in the delay. The trio, which comprises baritone/sopranino saxophonist Martin Küchen, bassist Per Zanussi, and drummer Raymond Strid, brings a sequence of flexible tunes that encompass the slow-motion dirges roiled with turbulent rhythmic undercurrents and instant, combustible exchanges. Santos is right there with them, darting and jabbing during the fiery moments and amplifying the tragedy of the slow passages. The set was only 32 minutes long, so that’s what you get, but it’s quite enough for music of such conviction. 

Bill Meyer

#dust #dusted magazine #gabriel birnbaum #jennifer kelly #max eastley #bill meyer #james elkington #neil gaiman #four-play string quartet #peppermint moon #polyorchard #nicole rampersaude #bryon hayes #Andreas Røysum #spanish love songs #ian mathers #tacoma park #trespass trio