Dear heartz, your fanciable* / feckless* / tone deaf* (delete where applicable) scribe is currently cobbling together this finely crafted* / rambling bore* / pointless* (delete where applicable) missive having absconded or – to use a oft used colloquial expression – bunked off from work. At present directives have been passed down from above and in above I refer to management (obviously that’ll be a definition of management applied to its widest interpretation given the management in question couldn’t manage an arse finding exercise if dropped into a vat of anus’ – but that‘s another matter) and not from the big guy in the sky with the harps, genteel thoughts and winged personage cooing at his every beck and call. At the behest of said directives leashes have been slipped on packs of slavering dogs. What japes. And talking of japes as every young soul knows bunking off entails jolly japes, fizzy drinks and sweets so sugary that teeth disappear as if by magic – and so this being bunked off work day we’ve hot footed to the local newsagent for wheezes aplenty and with a hearty hurrah in our heart and an impish wit about our person we did fly……bugger this for a game of soldiers……tales from the attic yip yip d’oh…..more of this in three days and counting – honest…..
Among the assembled n’er do wellers featured in this ’un you’ll be serenaded by the likes of le mouv, acolyte, nails, hiatus, dissolved, the resource centre, neurotic wreck, bordellos vs. human nihil, david newlyn, frugal puritan, sea nymph science, stagecoach, tyrannosaurus dead, roadside picnic, ephemeral man, FdM, beard of wolves, sea stacks, anne marie almedal, sonic aesthetic, lily and Madeleine, swim deep, public transport, quadrillion, rasplyn, king penguin, insect ark, haoppyorangeballoon vs. robert king, jonny cola and the A grades, philippe petit, night engine, alrealon musique mix, Samantha glass, white hills, herr baver…..
Those among you preferring your listening experience a bit more glitch based minimal electronics might do well to take yourselves to a quiet area for an hour to dreamily demur amid the sleepy headed like caress afforded by the latest episode of glitch on the mov being aired by the French based internet radio service le mouv. We stumbled across this quite sublime play list by sheer accident during a wander around cyberspace, episode 28 features a serene bouquet of beautified twinkle turned ambient raptures among the dainty delicacies on show are a host of self released recordings from the un-chartered out posts of the electronic sonic spectrum by the likes of nebulo, fraction, aynth as well as outings from the sound-scaping houses mozyk, ad noiseam, hymen and have faith in sound who we featured last missive out when a previously unreleased John 3:16 cut turned up on their celebrated free to download charming sepulcher series – all things being well and if we remember we’ll cast a more ear on their releases later this missive. All said the cuts that allured and bewitched us on first listen are those by ghost 3.13 and vort3x, the former titled ‘glass empire’ is a wonderfully conceived slice of forlorn star lit symphonic classicism that trades amid lullabying cosmic pirouettes and stuttering broken beats with the latter mentioned – entitled ’waiting textures’ – seductively stilled in a cavernous ice sculpturing beguiled in ethereal choruses all steeled in frost tipped grandeur and adored in ghostly romance. In short magnifique. http://www.lemouv.fr/diffusion-glitch-ep-28
Currently lugging under their collective arms a – we think – debuting full length entitled ‘alta’ via mordgrimm records which even before we’ve even had a chance to say a word you can imagine by the labels name alone that what’s about to emerge isn’t your all singing and dancing smiley faces merrily skipping around the tree type tuneage, in fact and not wishing to cast aspersions about the chaps in Acolyte as I’m sure they are all decently turned out and upstanding patrons of their Manchester community but having heard ‘charybdis’ which I again assume is culled from that aforementioned debut platter you suspect this lot are more likely to string up passing non believers on said tree and offer small wildlife by way of sacrificial gifts to some dark deity. Filed under the death metal tag which as far as we can tell these days seems to encompass anyone wearing black preferably inscribed with skulls, upturned crucifixes or apocalyptic scenes , with tattoos not depicting hearts or flowers unless of course those hearts have sacrificial blades piercing them and the flowers appear to be blood stained lillies and adorned with demonic heads, extreme facial stud jewellery and arriving bearing melodies that sound like they’ve been swamp dragged through the gates of hell on the devil’s own hand cart ’charybdis’ won’t you’ll be happy to hear be heard any day soon at that spoilt bastard Tarquin’s (or whatever name feckless parents these days plague their children with) 6th birthday party or for that matter worrying the day time play lists of pop radio. In fact I’m suspecting there’s an only come out after dark curfew on this unholy slab of gloom gore shrouded as it is in an early 80’s positive punk velour and buttressed and scarred by a deathly and primal sounding vocal whose damnation awaits you exaltations sound as though they’ve been matured by the drinking of paint stripper and chewing on bottles goes without saying we want that album in our lives like yesterday. https://soundcloud.com/tom-brumpton-pr/acolyte-charybdis
Which brings us to Nails. Now I don’t mind admitting that there’s been something of an air of expectancy around these here parts since receiving word that a new full length platter was looming with grievous intent on the misery wracked horizon. Debuting full length ’unsilent death’ was a grimly foreboding aural atrocity that re-cannibalised the trio’s rare ultra limited ‘obscene humanity’ for mass consumption whether they asked for it or not, framed in an austere sleeve depicting a grim gallows scene before the sounds spread their hellish contagion upon the turntable you were immediately put on notice that this wouldn’t be an easy ride. And indeed it wasn’t for what passed in a speed freaked blink of an eye was a punitive no prisoners taken all out aural annihilation. If the brutality didn’t give you cause to flinch then the underlying message of dread and hopelessness surely chilled and left a lasting scar about you. Between then and now there’s been a split with skin like iron and an ultra limited 7 inch culling cuts that fell off the final edit for ’unsilent death’ resurrected from that aforementioned scarce debut EP. And so to ’abandon all life’ which finds Messrs Jones, Young and Gianelli resuming atrocities in a most menacing and threatening way, applying the sonic scalpel to a gore grilled butcher’s table featuring ten furious (in the main barely sub one minute) disembowelments, here the blow torch is turned to maximum effect to scorch the living crap out of all before them. Not for the feint of heart, this is vicious stuff, hardcore served up as a rapid fire assault brimming and bludgeoned in sheer white hot hatred and abject gloom. After the near skin peeling blitz of the opening head drilling salvos ‘in exodus’, ’tyrant’ and ’God’s cold hands’, ‘wide open wound’ with its puss filled cruelty is almost tempered in a slavish – by their standards – slow core unease unto which all traces of hope are seemingly extinguished before lead out track ‘abandon all life’ rears into earshot to take up the baton with full furious attrition while all mayhem is unleashed on the hell spit that is the merciless charnel house ‘no surrender’. those thinking such sadistic punishment surely couldn’t be sustained prepare to nail (sorry) down all valuables for the onset on the torturous tirade that is ’pariah’ while the shock treatment afforded by the futile ’cry wolf’ reigns down with such acute caustic carnage that you fear it peeling from the grooves to throttle you to death. ’suum cuique’ rounds up the set, at just over 5 minutes in length it approaches epic stylings by their own standards for steeled in a bleak despondency this monolithic beast teeters precariously on a doom laced axis of morbid decay. This is retribution and penance in its most unforgiving and unrelenting pure unadulterated form. Out via southern lord.
Is this lovely or what. Recommended by Brian Bordello who as we joked last missive out is becoming a regular feature in these pages so much so that we might dedicate a little corner with a pew for him to preach from and in so doing steer some of you more errant charges onto a lifelong path of hip and groovy listening ear ware. Out via the daddy tank imprint who according to Brian will be releasing the bordellos ‘ronco revival sounds’ full length shortly, ‘forgotten processes’ is culled from the 15th outing by dissolved entitled ‘surge of the lucid’ which aside begging the question where have they been all my life we have absolutely no information about. Safe to say this woozy little cutie – which incidentally sneaks beneath the 10 minute ticker tape – initially shimmers into view as though a lovelorn frost glazed Broadcast replete with deeply alluring church toned organ recitals before morphing into a seductively trip wired slice of transcendental beauty softly star sequined with ethereal ghost like femme vocals all traced and trimmed into reality dissipating seas of cosmic baubles, oscillating lunar pirouettes and moon skinned murmurs which chatter, coo and charm like some hyper driving voyage into the minds third eye motored by a crew made up of members of FSOL, Biosphere and echoboy collectively re-wiring as were the original template of elektra’s landmark the zodiac – cosmic sounds set. Each release by all accounts come in limited runs of just 100 of which to date there have been 14 and we want them all.
Video goes like this…..
Cant quite recall from where or who exactly we picked this up from. We do know we got it via one of those face book alert update things you know the type of thing hilarious video postings and messages from people who’ve forgotten they’re not on twitter updating you of their every move as though there be you sitting green with envy that you wish your life was theirs though obviously without the bits where they’ve cared to tell you that they’ve just returned from their fifteenth toilet visit in the last two hours. Or else the postings from wags of pictures of luxurious landscape views bathed in sun – meanwhile there’s you sitting in some god forsaken winter-land which when occasioned by the yellow thing in the sky has quarters of the population running for cover fearing the apocalypse or a visitation by a huge psychedelic telly tubby. Anyway whichever thread we picked this up from – many thanks – because in all honesty its quite a cute little thing. Currently being aired by Dummy – alas no back hander payments for the impromptu publicity – somewhere below this ramble you’ll find the video – incidentally directed by Tom Jobbins – accompanying the song ’we can be ghosts now’ by Hiatus. And before you ask – indeed no we don’t have any startling information about Hiatus – but would like some – except to say that this features vocals by Shura who may / might be Hiatus and then again not. So before we find ourselves up another verbal cul de sac we’d just like to say that this is a delectable cutie, deceptively infectious and longingly traced with a gorgeously after lights out lounge like sophistication prepped with funky loops teasingly tousled over the top of cascades of serenely shy eyed lunar swirls that leave Shura to weave her caressing dream like tonalities with carefree abandon. Nice video and all – all in all does it for us.
That aforementioned video……
I stand to be corrected on this so bear with me when I say that I’m fairly certain that this next ‘un is the handiwork of Catherine Debard who one or two amongst you who have an eye for these things might well recall being briefly mentioned in a recent missive when we stumbled across a ylangylang track entitled ‘Si’ on that rather fine valentine compilation put out by the jeunesse cosmique imprint entitled ’coeur et heart…..’ (you’ll find the full write up at tales from the attic – Volume X). sea nymph science appears to be her psych glitch alter ego – a collaboration with Puppy – described in passing as experimental IDM drone glitch hop which is I should say at this juncture is a pretty fair assessment for there’s a new mini EP / album set just docked on band camp entitled ‘multi coloured sugar / rushed fantasies’ which deserves further investigation especially if your sonic preferences stray sound wise to astral social club, old tigerbeat6 releases and some of the more out there stuff put out by boring machines – the latter of whom if we have the time and indeed remember – we’ll be featuring somewhere amid this particular missive. Five tracks sit on this psyched paint bomb of which ’eternal flower bliss’ caught our eye and ear, a truly head caning affair shoehorned into a fairly hefty sub 16 minute dose. Now if this doesn’t melt your head and have your electrical impulses scattering hither and thither then frankly we need to ask the question – are you reading from the same page as the rest of us. Now if the after life had a shoe-gazey technoid soundtrack then this is what I’d imagine would herald your passing through the white room to beyond for tripadelic immersion is what you get for your entrance fee, heavenly hues evaporating into swathes of dissipating celestial seas, woozily oozing disorientating dronal cycles, glassy glissandos and incomprehensible transmissions piercing through the ether and streaking through the voids all colliding and reverberating back and forth like some psyched out near breakdown speed freaked pinball – did someone say a freak fried nu age Laurie Anderson – pat on the back that chap (ess). There will be more of this in future missives of that you can be comfortably concerned. http://seanymphscience.bandcamp.com/track/eternal-flower-bliss
And staying with Catherine though this time in her aforementioned ylangylang guise and again out via the previously mentioned jeunesse cosmique imprint this outing sees her shimmying up to share cassette space with echo beach on what is a strictly limited 30 only tape release – a copy of which we here want in our lives right now.
Perhaps its just my ears playing tricks on me but if I was looking for something to use as an example of what a studio roomful of dinosaur jnr, teenage fan club and lemonheads types would sound like if they’d happened into each other for a session jam with velvet crush commandeering the mixing desk them this I’m happy to say would be looming somewhere at the top. Heralding the arrival shortly of the debuting long player platter by Stagecoach entitled ‘say hi to the band’ via the alcopop imprint. This west coast reclining cutie pie comes pressed in all the formats – vinyl, CD, download and er – minidisc. As said to welcome along the release the band are showcasing a video of ’work work work’ ripped from said set and a damn frisky beat pop beauty it is to, showered in effervescence and lush in the caressing afterglow of classic era beach boys harmonies albeit here as though visualised through the hazy lenses of the summer hymns, this sweetly sun kissed sortie is awash in the kind of feel good bashfulness that ought to be bottled and put on prescription at the local dispensary. Factor into this the kaleidoscopic kudos of the woods and the woozy off centred kick of a jubilant pavement and you have yourself something of an infectious rash forming nugget that alas arrives without jabs.
Lifted from their currently available debut full length with the attractive title ‘attack of the stoner zombie killer kids’ Yorkshire’s premier punk misfits steel trees hit the decks with another slab of leery hairy arsed grunge in the guise of ‘revolution’ – a big blistering stoned stoner beatnik bastard which though we shouldn’t say this as it usually serves as being a kiss of death – sounds like a seriously disenchanted Nirvana with attitude, all hulking low slung riffage and grizzled chord chugs with added big bearded and even bigger hair Mudhoney quotient. Damn fine stuff…..
Expect plenty of roadside picnic happenings this missive – bet you can’t wait – starting off with this admittedly strange little thing which we happened to trip over on you tube. Due for release on the feathered coyote imprint – again another label of whom we have absolutely no idea or inkling about – rest assured we’ll resolve that shortly – ‘children of symbols and letters’ – illuminati theorists conspiracy or otherwise take note – is culled from a proposed outing entitled ‘slugs’. more micro sound mosaics from pop’s secret inner universe which admittedly rather than have us singing and dancing merrily in the aisles of our listening space instead instilled a bleak foreboding chill much like that we’d imagine presiding over some apocalyptic aftermath in so much that its stilled, solemn and hollowed in a disturbingly dread draped finality, not I hasten to add the type of ear candy that’d go down well at kids parties unless of course your little mites had an unreasonably and deeply concerning thing for snoozing Darth Vader sounds. Each to their own I guess.
Just had an update from Ulrich Rois head honcho at feathered coyote that this baby is due to emerge on a limited edition cassette sometime in July.
And staying with those roadside picnic sounds, this woke us up this morning rattling around as it was in our in box creating all sorts of unruly nonsense. Attached with a message from Mr Wiggan that simply read ‘be warned – it’s harsh’. ‘hells breath Sir’ we did scream as the opening ferocious fanfares ripped out of the speakers near peeling several layers of face skin and annihilating what was before its arrival a merrily colourful quartet of birds chirping happily in the garden awaiting our visitation with buttered bread and nuts aplenty. ‘the giants’ – one of two tracks from what we assume is a forthcoming release – not sure when or where – is ripe for those among you whose listening likes are molten by the sound of ear shredding sonic sanding. Reference wise not as full on as Merzbow but certainly pissing in the same generic pond as John Wiese / Sissy Spacek. At 38 minutes in duration it becomes more of a marathon test of nerve and willpower especially if experienced through headphones at volume degrees in the upper echelons wherein it becomes a sadistic form of hypno-therapy which mid way through you swear that either your hallucinating or objects in your eye line are beginning to blur and bend as though party to some seismic event. Amid all this a toxic siege of alternating low and high end manipulations are hot wired upon your neuron receptors oscillating between fast and slow frequency cycles on a discordant flat-lining drone facia of chattering clicks and disturbed hums which for the best part rumbles away in something of a subdued manner after its initial blaze of fury only to emerge again at its dying gasp stoking up the furnaces to wipe your headspace in a potent burst of ray gun emitting electro static. The kind of skree scorched assault that to power drills and crystal transmitter sets will no doubt sound like romantic suites yet to small animals instil an unnatural fear that their heads might explode. As to the accompanying salvo ’the death of science’ a frantic hustle of activity greets its opening whereupon I’m reminded of that old saying to do with a roomful of an infinite number of monkeys with typewriters given that the sounds emerging could almost be just that or else the magnified recordings of ant armies at labour. hitherto less threatening than its partner cut and significantly shorter in duration – this ’un creeping up the 22 minute ticker tape and interspersed with the slow and measured addition of squirreling segments that sound for all the world like a whistling train which I guess adds to the tracks notion of motion, mind you that said kitchen sinks et al it could of course be the manic strangled tones of a furious kettle on the boil, however it’s the curious unrelenting nature of the suite which ultimately engages puzzlement with the concrete tonalities only veering off at the 18 minute mark into a sea of tranquil shimmer toned drone tides.
Before you ask – no we haven’t a clue who this lot are – but I’m guessing they are a quartet cos I counted them – just ripped this from an update posted by those odd box dudes – two tracks recorded only last Saturday which if your reading this as i type – was yesterday – and anyway how could you be reading this as i type unless of course you are presently standing behind me looking over my shoulder – spooky. However if you happen to be reading this mid week then it was Saturday just gone – the 16th in fact – of March just to clarify matters in case your reading it in April which means either one of two things – we are really behind with this missives posting or you’ve been caught skulking and owe us a late note. Anyhow two cuts from their set at the bull and gate by tyrannosaurus dead who by the looks of things do a credible stab at that old shambling twee thing, all quickly strummed guitars, Sarah records badges and floppyish fringes kicking out rapid fire teen angst lovelies with yearning rapid fire assault and if that was at all possible and crafting out into the bargain a sweet sonic shambles of cutely chaotic affection all of which we here suspect we need in our listening lives pronto – so send recorded works now to the usual address at the bottom of this musing.
Additional note – we’ve just eyed more footage from the same gig on that there you tube televisual thing so fill your boots.
Okay we featured this several missives ago when it appeared as the inaugural release via the latest season of the too pure singles club – too pure as you no are currently under a reviews embargo until they start sending promos or sound cloud links that actually play sounds. As it happens this little gem also features on the bands debuting ‘wolf skulls’ EP which aside as you all should know features the criminally groovy head splitter ‘my father drives the death star’ should by rights be doing brisk business at the counters of the coolest record emporiums across the land.- again it was the subject of much swooning around these here parts and featured in lights last tales from the attic out. So who are these little darlings who’ve captured our hearts as if you hadn’t already guessed for yourselves – beard of wolves be their name and the blighters have just cobbled together a moving picture show for your discerning delight for the track ’wet mouth’ whose subject matter we’ll leave you to figure out and let your imagination wander wild and free. As to the track itself – a quite frankly tormenting tornado of seizure stricken head trepanning mayhem, all at once imagining a seductive variant of the ministry in full throttle dragster flight dragging beneath their chassis an irrefutably rabid beast of grizzled groove all guaranteed to lay your listening space to waste. As said moving picture is here – just love the scene with the mental trashing of the windscreen…….
Word reaches us from afar – well our PC as it happens which although at our finger tips right at this moment may shortly be going on a impromptu trip flying through the air in a Frisbee type formation if it steels itself to brave another crash. And while the threat of a good talking to and the showing it of spanners, hammers and all manner of tools to hand to persuade it that I’m not unaccustomed or nay afraid to prize of its back panelling and exact a do it yourself lobotomy, we did spy upon the fruits de mer web page – a label cherished and admired around these here parts – of some fishy happening afoot. Cryptic messages appearing on their discography page, talk of a series of cheaply priced albums of original materials crafted in sounds of kraut, ambient, prog and acid by variously familiar members of the extended FdM family such as sendelica, earthling society and temple music along with some not so familiar talents such as craig padilla, dead pylons, cat frequency and organic is orgasmic the latter of whom we featured here ooh aeons ago and who – annoyingly and with much sadness on our part never responded to our favoured words – I feel another embargo coming……anyhow the series is to be titled – I’m assuming – fishy which sounds about right in keeping with the marine themed gubbins that these dudes appear strangely to pursue. Baited breath etc……go to http://www.fruitsdemerrecords.com/strange%20fish.html for more information….
Barring laptop disasters there should hopefully be later in this missive (or very certainly in the next tales from the attic – which will be steaming down hard in quick succession like procession of London buses after a lull period of inactivity) stuff by John 3:16 and Philippe Petit looming large in print via the alrealon musique imprint. We say this not as warning but merely to serve by way of an introduction to the ephemeral man – better known we believe as one Leigh Wright who has just posted an hour long by kind request made by those Alrealon dudes a ‘ghosts and goblins’ sound mix on mix cloud. Described by the Ephemeral one as a mix of psych, haunt, drone and electronica this smorgasbord of scares and sci-fi nightmares includes offerings from the revenant sea who feature elsewhere this particular missive in an extended commentary of their dark debut cassette only outing for auditory field as well as the rather tasty ’the devil always shits in the same grave’ by Sylvester Anfang II which ought to appeal to those of you who subscribed to that excellent Preterite debut and who love their sounds crippled and coiled in Tibetan chanted drone recitals. Elsewhere Jeff Wayne’s classic ’eve of the war’ opens proceedings, while Biosphere makes a welcomed appearance though I’d have rather thought that ‘phantasm’ would have had the required spook quotient over ‘kobresia’ – further along the play list a rare though familiar treat by Jacques Lasry with ‘maneche’ which old readers might well fondly remember as being the theme tune to ‘picture box’ and some ghost box lovelies in the guise of belbuy park and the focus group the latter of whom paired up with broadcast for their ‘witch cults’ face off while heaven and earth surely require further investigation given ’feel the spirit’ runs away with the best track award here hands down.
Those of you wanting more ephemeral man in your listening lives and with 50 notes of the Queen’s realm to hand might want to check out what looks like a must have work of art entitled ‘nacreous clouds’. not your usual release and strictly limited to just 10 editions one of which has already gone leaving 9 looking for a loving home, this collectors item comes packaged in a genuine Romeo and Juliet Habana cigar box and houses not only a specially hand crafted double disc CD-r of the album ‘nacreous clouds’ but also a 24,000 word handwritten collection of dark fantasy short stories entitled ‘creeps’ along with 36 printed photographs from the ‘shades of grey’ project, an inspirational dice game, an original piece of art on 8×6 inch canvas and one years membership to club ephemeral which for now remains exclusive to purchasers of this lavish set. For those not so flush with the readies there’s a stand alone edition of the album in its as advertised hand crafted state while ‘creeps’ can be purchased in a PDF format to include an additional ’I try’ (unusually unrepresentative of the album as a whole given it’s a softly strummed slice of lo-fi introspection) download pulled from the ‘nacreous cloud’ set which incidentally all sounds good with its paranoiac 50‘s b-movie cut ups and sinister seeped hypno-drone collages – guess we here need a copy to immerse our head space in.. http://ephemeral-man.bandcamp.com/
Now imagine if you will a studio setting by night, outside the sultry glow of a summers evening reclines on the horizon. In said studio corridors members of the Earlies, Shady Bard and the Low Anthem have bumped into each other, exchanges of admirations are swapped and shortly to the bar to partake of refreshments ideas and notes are soon passed in fevered good cheer whereupon a plan is forged to set said notations to life as sound. Hold that thought if you will. Enter stage left Sea Stacks who are or is I should rightly say Davy Berryman who has as it happens forsaken the reliance and need of your usual indie kitted guitars and instead opted for strings and all manner of softly kissed orchestrations for his forthcoming single ‘the high tide’. available via digital download on band camp with an additional ultra limited 200 only CD pressing set for release mid April, ’the high tide’ is demurely cradled in those self same sounds imagined emanating from the aforementioned studio gathering of low anthem, earlies and shady bard types. A defences surrendering wood-crafted gem murmured in a shy eyed lilt of yearning folk motifs longingly sprinkled in warming glows of jubilance and cosy toed in a softly permeated framing of feel good radiance. Better still is ’is this normal’ – a frost chipped nugget quietly dissolved in reflective ache and spurned on by a delicately disarming thaw of an hymnal crush caressed to a deliriously affirming chime of wind whistling folk posies. http://soundcloud.com/seastacks/sets/the-high-tide-single/
Something else that’s been turning our head and ear this last day or two is this frosted tipped beauty from Norwegian songstress Anna Marie Almedal. Taken from her – we are assuming – debut full length platter ‘memory lane’ via +47 – I think – a copy of which we‘ll try to haggle though undoubtedly we won‘t succeed given our recent track record (like why do I bother – could just as well make this so easy for myself and rewrite the press release and claim it as my own) – ‘winter song’ is a disturbingly sweet and affectionate love note the likes of which you’ll need to go some to better all year, traced with a mercurial classicism that coos fulsomely to a youthful Ms Bush crafting by way of its tenderly turned and consuming romantic rush and yet dimpled by the delicate etching of pastoral brushstrokes that usher in the fleeting recall of no less a legends than Linda Perhacs and Susan Christie whilst simultaneously primed with a genteel stripped back poise of the type alluding to the dainty songbook of Serafina Steer – quite frankly in short that I’m afraid translates as class in our books.
Moving pictures here –
Now be fair warned that this is truly exceptional. Recently signed up by asthmatic kitty and already the cause of much inter web swooning, sisters Lily and Madeleine are two teenagers aged 16 and 18 but don’t let that mere detail fool you otherwise into believing that what you have here is mere trite trinket pop for these siblings display a maturity that makes a mockery of their tender years. A debut EP entitled ‘weight of the globe’ is set for release June time for now an intimately set live recording of the duo performing ‘back to the river’ has been set upon the cyberspace community to serve as a herald to serve notice of intent. A haunting slice of beguiled bewitchment dutifully demurred as though the shyly withdrawn offspring of a vulnerable meeting of Delgados and Smoke Fairies types, all at once touching, tormented and tearfully traced in a humbling spiritual aura that comes trimmed tenderly and teased to an achingly yearning timeless folk tongue. Will crush on turntable appearance.
From asthmatic to aesthetic, we’re so clever and cute aren’t we, playing with your heads that’s the game. Imminent on international feel the sounds of the sonic aesthetic who alas aren’t a huge ever growing collective as you’d probably first imagine but a solo piloted adventure undertaken by one Mark Barrott. The three track EP that is ’tales from the nocturn’ will arrive about now at the hipper outlets found in record emporium world pressed up on hulking slabs of twelve inch wax and finds Barrott immersed in sumptuous seas of hynodroning trance, lead out track ‘a mendicant adventures’ is pure smoked minimalism its roots subtly etched in mark one Human League references in its initial passages yet all the same hooked upon the soft uber funk casing of a c. 83 Cabaret Voltaire and delicately drop kicked onto the trancey subterranic landscapes of a super chilled biosphere platform wherein it playfully purrs to orbit and mutate into a deeply alluring cosmic head trip that’s shimmered in lights out cool sophistication. ‘dark of the moon’ is similarly coaxed to imagine alien beach promenades toured upon by interstellar ice cream vans back dropped by the dream drift detailing of lush lounge lilted seafaring sonic symphonies which had we not known better would have edged a guess at it being the work of some resulting cross DNA product born of the fusion of Manual and the seahawks. Last but by no means least ‘the paradol chamber’ draws matters to a lulling close amid a transcendental trip upon lunar lullabies lazily daydreamed and star watching whilst traversing upon pulsar powered motorik motifs. Essential I’ll have you know.
Absolutely no information on this at all, discovered whilst quickly eyeing the ‘its psychedelic baby’ magazine site – do you think they like Austin Powers – which we heartily recommend you do to if that is your listening loves stray to mind tripping psych mirages. As said stumbled across this 90 minute sound set by Herr Baver entitled ’adrift’ which ought to appeal to those of you who find fondness in mesmeric ambient drone collages dinked in dissipating dream montages and out there arabesque draped astral climes that take your head space on a journey deep into the spacious voids of the minds inner play space. https://soundcloud.com/baverdisco/adrift
Very floyd-y void-y hallucinogenia, hell I can feel my head melting and my whole being astral projecting itself, below you’ll find a trip-a-delic and stoned out picture show accompanying the White Hills cut ‘left behind’ culled from their limited issue ‘abstractions and mutations’ full length which as it happens is being given a limited re-press on vinyl no less via immune recordings, its availability being aired to coincide with the bands short tour of these shores kicking off in Cork 3rd April and culminating with an appearance at Cargo on 17th after which work will be afoot laying down their imitable cosmic grooves across a new slab of recorded wax slated for later year issue. In the mean time trip off your heads to this bliss kissed psychotropic nugget.
Recommended by Leigh Wright of ephemeral man fame who we featured somewhere amid this extended double heading tales from the attic is the constellation tatsu imprint, an Oakland, california based label who it seems have something of a habit for the issue of cutely crafted ambient / out there electronica releases which appear to take the form of limited edition cassettes or hand designed cd-r’s. they’ve already struck up a considerable catalogue to date by way of some 28 releases and counting. We’ll endeavour to get more information on these dudes for future mention though for now strongly advise you turn your attention in the general direction of ‘rising movements’ by Samantha Glass. You won’t be to surprised to find that we have absolutely no information to hand on this other than to say it appeared as a 5 track cassette at the tail end of last year and is quite gorgeous – oh and it’s the work – we assume – of one Beau Devereaux whose narrative preamble suggests a soundtrack accompanying the mysteries of an abandoned lodge. As said previously comprised of five suites each simply listed as numbered movements – eg ’movement 1’ so on and so forth. Being the awkward tykes that we are we’ve worked our way backwards on this ’un starting with ’movement V’ obviously – a beautifully serene cosmic cruiser it is to fashioned upon a driving motorik pulsar which to these ears initially had us reaching for our all important Vangelis platters before taking a detour and immersing itself in all manner of silver skinned shimmer toned orbs that instead had us rethinking our reference markers towards yellow magic orchestra albeit as though retooling the output of kraftwerk. More of those extra terrestrial ice cream vans orbiting alien beach shores as encountered on the previously mentioned elsewhere the sonic aesthetic outing appear on ‘movement IV‘ – a gloriously dreamy electro glide dimpled in all manner of nautical nuances that admittedly had us here imagining a cosmic ‘sailing by‘ of sorts its brief beautified charm only disturbed at its closing moments wherein everything goes a little proggy and Goblin-ish – which be honest is no bad thing. ‘movement III‘ offers a dizzying dream weave of lunar lilted lullabies applied to the delicate minimalist electro detailing that once upon a time caused the oft fond swoon among admirers of a ‘digitalis‘ era ISAN while ‘2‘ is instilled with a ghostly un-worldliness traced in lengthening shadows and stilled in frost tipped drone trickles and cavernous vocals. All said though its ’movement 1’ that edges the vote as the best thing here, all motorik murmurs, starry eyed segues and the playful inclusion of old school Radiophonic Workshop wisps which gathered together endow it with a strangely alluring pulsating effervescence as though a teeth cutting maps and diagrams. http://ctatsu.bandcamp.com/album/rising-movements
Those of you previously un exposed to the wondrous sounds found lurking on the alrealon musique imprint might do yourself a favour in checking out the latest mix cloud posting by number broadcast – #34 is a hefty two hour sonic bomb featuring an hours worth of grooves by the likes of wizards tell lies, swarm intelligence – who on name alone deserve closer investigation, night swimmer and scanner, bacon head, raining leaf and more with the second hour of the show being devoted to a hour long alrealon showcase in which to immerse yourself in. a pic n’ mix window shop view of this most eclectic of labels gathers together a positive cornucopia of strange head wiring aural candy from the freak beaten electroid gaseous grooves of PAS, the weirded out shit faced no wave jazz prog wooziness of the jazz fakers, the haunting ice chilled and bewitched soundtrack classicism of Philippe Petit and Jurica Jelic for that matter who appears to be following a similar sonic trajectory, the doom hop of black Saturn, John 3:16 who we’ll be mentioning in greater detail a little later on and the formidable Fluid along with cuts from artists previously unknown to us such as Zilmrah, Margritt Holzt and ebinger. For required enlightenment go to http://www.mixcloud.com/davefleet1/numbers-broadcast-34-featuring-alrealon-label-showcase/
Okay we got passed this sound cloud link alas no information but I’m certain there are folk out there who love them to pieces which before we start digging ourselves into an inescapable hole that’s not to say we don’t just that it’d be nice passing the time of day reporting to you dear reader amazing facts as all manner of enviable happenings in the night engine camp. Phew think we got away with that one. This lot have a new single out in May which ought to give their press people plenty of time to mail across the A side which doesn’t appear here and which incidentally is called ‘give me a chance’ which title alone sounds distressingly woeful and instils a fearful image in our minds of lit candles and lighters being waved in solemn procession. However we do have the flip side ’young and carefree’ which I must admit is a fair old romp if you happen to like ’cat people’ era Mr B – remember now we still have an ongoing Bowie embargo in force – starts off to the deeply ominous drill of thick impenetrable sheens of industrial pangs clipped by a darkening cabaret that suggests in the ranks lurk admirers of Scott Walker and Marc and the Mambas before rephrasing and cloaking itself in all manner of melodramatic mid 80’s motifs cowed in pulse racing death disco accents which to these ears sound not unlike a less crystalline white rose movement in a face off with Yellow Stipe Nine. https://soundcloud.com/nightengine/young-and-carefree
Due for release very soon on the much admired and aforementioned alrealon musique label is a new platter from Philippe Petit entitled ‘needles in pain’. a strictly limited affair of 300 copies all coming pressed up on 12 inch slabs of eye catching picture disc wax with artwork by Idees Chauves. Known for his live turntablism work its surprising to find that this is the first ever release to actually capture him utilizing his meticulous craft in a performance setting. Taken from recordings made at his appearance at 2009’s FIME festival, ’needles in pain’ is described as a ’symphony for turntables’ what you get here are two different listening visions of the same performance this feat being made possible by the application of three turntables and one specially designed tonearm connected separately to the mixer allowing him to localise, process and manipulate sounds from a specific source in order to improvise on the spot his stock of specially prepared vinyl featuring privately pressed field recordings and pre-sourced sound collages. Alas we only have previews at the moment of the two 20 minute opus’ featured on this set, simply titled ’first movement’ and ’second movement’ the former a softly alluring and delicately scratched ice sculptured mosaic tenderly waking, stretching and yawning to a thawing twilight glow trimmed in a sighing melancholia and distant wistfulness while the latter more organic in presentation crackles, clicks, jumps and warps to a locked groove disorientation wherein the minutiae of the sound sample is compressed, expanded and collapsed into a woozy looping collage. http://alrealonmusique.bandcamp.com/album/needles-in-pain-alrn036
Live footage from that FIME appearance can be located here……
First of two videos released to accompany their (Jonny Cola and the A Grades) ‘straight to video’ / ‘Marlborough road’ double A playing platter which by rights ought to be bruising speakers and the cause of much aisle swooning in the cool as f**k indie pop communities at the moment, mentioned around here in volume IX of tales from the attic which is like – here – http://www.godisinthetvzine.co.uk/2013/02/18/tales-from-the-attic-volume-ix-revolutions-of-a-45-and-33-kind/ – all cutely acute foot tapping groove and sounding like an teen spotty love child of suede / pulp parentage – not for squares by the way…..
Ready for something a tad tasty, just in via a message from Dan Orangehappyballoon to advise us that he’s just posted up a new demo track on his sound cloud page entitled ’ghetto princess’ which finds him collaborating with no less a legend than former Scars dude Robert King. What emerges here is a beautifully amorphous sugar crushed star child murmured and softly caressed in oscillating orbs of celestial carnivals space walking upon a lonesome and aching trajectory scribed by the mesmerising aura formed from gaseous garlands and the seductive lacing of orbital oceanic lilts.https://soundcloud.com/happyorangeballoon-happyorangeballoon/robert-king-happyorangeballoon
Just picked this up from a face book link and well quite frankly I want one. Out now on Geweih Ritual Documents it’s a three track 10 inch by Insect Ark. We’ve just had time to sample the delights of the opening cut and a gem it is to, titled ’long arms’ this darkly absorbing beauty is all at once magnificent, monolithic and majestic, scratched in archaic pre history sandstone like a ritualistic Earth carving up a post apocalyptic wasteland with Godspeed the heavy air of stilled decay hangs ominously like a vulture presiding watchfully over its carrion, the atmospherics chilled and scarred, the landscapes arid dry by sun scorched rays as though laid bare and stripped by an unforgiving trade wind howling through the desolate plains. A towering epitaph all said. https://soundcloud.com/insect-ark/sets/insect-ark-long-arms-10
Video entertainment time. Are you seated comfortably with popcorn and cold drinks to hand. Let me cast your memories back a missive or three ago whereupon amid the endless tips of listening treats we thought you should be tuning into we did mention old friends of these pages Fruits De Mer’s rather spiffing Hollies tribute – just out now in case you wanted it – upon that vinyl platter a faithful re-reading of ‘dear Eloise’ by king penguin did sit – well dear folk here’s the band themselves captured on video doing a live take of said cut…enjoy….
Is that the much maligned harpsichord we hear subduing and seducing away in the back ground of ‘toxic poison’ giving it a bewitching baroque flavouring twisted in mystery, suspense and magic. And what’s this, for do I hear the ominous pang of murderous portent assumed by the appearance of the slowly coiled ice cold bass refrains ushering in a sinister horror-phonic coffin casing much akin to some darkly volunteered Carpenter meets youthful Bauhaus doom draped chamber chill. And then the monastic chants and the utterances of ritual scripts in forgotten and forbidden tongues. And what was briefly enchanting is in the blink of an eye laden in menace and malevolence. The band in question are Quadrillion a doom drone metal band who feature amid their ranks one Carolyn O’Neill who divides her time between being the director of the Logan Square New Music Ensemble (a grass roots chamber group), co-ordinator of the resolution digital resources (producing video installations) and Rasplyn (her musical alter ego of whom we mentioned briefly in tales from the attic Volume X – see http://www.godisinthetvzine.co.uk/2013/02/25/tales-from-the-attic-volume-x-2/ and on the odd occasion can be heard collaborating with Philippe Gerber AKA John 3:16 – who incidentally will feature in this missive a little later on). If pressed to explain what I find so appealing about the work of Ms O’Neill / Rasplyn I’d have to say it was the varying spectrum of styles applied, take Quadrillion’s ’toxic poison’ as a case in point – brooding, dark, industrial gruel where elements of Soriah, UK Decay and Coil are cannibalised and spat out and wherein through the insane gloom of hopelessness within emerges something very much informed by a ’suspiria’ era Goblin. Now measure this up against say ’14 black clouds’ – a beautifully bewitched and beguiled floral bouquet of twilight peaking enchantment dimpled in wood-crafted forest imagery, the moods carefree and light take unrestricted flight, the reference points located somewhere between Moondog and Bernard Hermann are engaged in a sweetly caressed folly of tension, drama and mystique with the fog bound dreamscapes accentuated by a ghostly aura and serenaded by the divinely serene siren call of squirreling wind florets. Elsewhere if Sergio Leone had ever decided to relocate his spaghetti westerns to the far east and rather than whittle a story line of a gunslinger but rather an avenging samurai with no name and presented the story line to Morricone then what might have emerged as an epic symphonic score wouldn’t have been far off the mark as that realised on ’video game techcon’ – a lolloping oriental seasoned brooder recalling the off centred musicality of ’once upon a time in the west’. And then there’s the previously mentioned in passing notes ’scenes through the magic eye’ which sees Rasplyn deep in a surrealist classic landscape dimpled in Vernon Elliott kookiness and chimed in the mercurial detailing of a ’lemon girl’ era Philippe Petit. For us though best of the set here is the simply breathless and exquisite ’a dark wood’ -.clipped in rolling evergreen pastoral folds and spiked in noir overtures all kissed with romantic rushes and silvered in a deeply consuming and arresting cortege of pure unadulterated mercurial classicism, here twinkled in balletic poise string and wind recitals playfully pirouette to engage in a baroque bewitchment to craft a scene peppered in fleet footed regency and adorned in tranquil beauty to visualise the scurry of rabbits, the predatorily conspiring foxes, the watchful overseeing eye of the owl and the carefree busying of a woodpecker. To bring matters to conclusion there’s even a three hour sound mix set entitled ‘music to my ears’ featuring an eclectic selection of tracks hand picked by Carolyn which includes cuts by empty vessel music – who I’m sure we’ve featured in these pages at one time or other – monsieur durek, charles mantis, wet fur, vision fortune, blue sausage infant and of course John 3:16 – https://soundcloud.com/rasplyn
Pulled this from a leonard’s lair link who said of it that it called to his mind the much missed Lush and who are we to argue. new single by public transport (please no jokes about the lengthy waiting time between this and the previous one some 9 months ago) who is according to his birth certificate Duncan Bailey who describes himself as an electronic musician which we here are assuming means he’s a musician playing electronic pop and not some synth savvy terminator type tin man. Goes onto say that public transport started releasing material in 2008 influenced in the main by Ulrich Schnauss, boards of Canada and Nathan fake. Current outing is a two track pay what you like release that blends woozy shoe gaze harmonics and sugar rushed shimmer symphonics, ’drones’ obviously comes courting the kind of vapour trailing yearn that was etched upon ‘loveless’ era MBV platters of yesteryear and occasioned to revisits in recent years by the likes of auto drone and asobi seksu. That said it was ’dark days’ – I guess you could call the flip side – that had us agog given its trimmed to the serene cathedral-esque dream dipped drift-scaping of a youthfully spiked Chapterhouse found shimmying up to a pre ’wake up’ era Boo Radleys. http://publictransport.bandcamp.com/album/dark-days
Heard once hooked immediately. Imminent via RCA / Chess Club is the second single from Swim Deep. Not due until May and ahead of a by all accounts promising debut full length titled ‘where the heaven are we’, ’she changes the weather’ is a breathlessly bespoken slice of achingly dreamy lovelorn drift pop softly dipped in a subtle bathing of west coast rays the type of which illicit upon the would be listener an effervescing feel good radiance whilst buoyed along by the demurring free flowing tides underpinning the flotillas of murmuring melodies above, all of this tripped to the reclining showers of stratospheric arpeggios and a hitherto recall of an in form the High peaking at the b-sides songbook of the Stone Roses. https://soundcloud.com/swimdeep/she-changes-the-weather
Ah the Bordellos – regular visitors in one shape or form or another to these pages have had their track ’peach’ radically recalibrated by human nihil for an as yet unheard compilation set entitled IFAR Musique concrete time lapse inside the sound upon whose digitised grooves we’ve just spotted a cut by the mutant beatniks – more about that one in a second. Anyhow the advertised ‘peach’ is here found stripped right back to its barest core form, reduced as were to an unusually austere and decidedly chilled blankly staring ghostly impression riddled in all manner of subtle shadow lined dubtronic spectral oddness which had us alerted in the main to a seriously lo-fi and minimalist variant of the Passage which by our reckoning is a good thing until that is the appearance of the meekly monochromatic synth swathes hushed in through the ether to endow something approaching the graceful fix of a debut album starring OMD in cahoots with an equally impressionable Dalek I love you both lurking and lost in the outer void run out grooves of tubeway army’s ’replicas’. as to mutant beatniks well they offer up ’tort’ – something of a disturbing treat in so far as you feel a tad head bowed and weepy hearing it – but then perhaps that’s just me, as to the song itself – shall we agree to settle for disorientating blue mountain folk showered in hazy lysergic mantras all trimmed in psyche mirages and woozily weaved in dissolving dream drifts which gathered together sound not unlike a got their shit together sunburned hand of the man in collusion with MV & EE. http://ifarmusiqueconcretecompilation.bandcamp.com/album/ifar-musique-concr-te-time-lapse-inside-the-sound-compilation
Staying loosely with the bordellos, Dan of the band has been known to moonlight for other bands during down time, long drone flowers being one of many (you should find this lot mentioned elsewhere here) along with neurotic wreck wherein he pairs up with Dan Wreck. The duo as it happens have just released a four track EP titled ‘I’m Laura Palmer’ on the vulpiano imprint which you could describe simply as smoking cool. Revealing a growing maturity in song craft this set snake winds insidiously like some alluring earworm, embraced with a dust croaked blues scowl and hollowed by the regretful tear of what appear to be lost love letters, there’s a kind of becoming ghost rider like glower to this quartet of treats, the opining deathly rattle of ’my reason to believe’ sounding not unlike a cowed and bruised but still smarting Neil Young haunted by the ghost of a former past life is culled by a ghostly drift wind upon whose cusp is spirited the echoes of the fabled crossroads. ’show me who broke your heart’ decidedly more upbeat in presentation is flavoured by the distractive dimpling of Kevin Tihista and Michael Shelley essences and may well turn the heads of first album Dire Straits purists and features the criminally underused harmonica while title track ’I’m Laura Palmer’ our favourite here is showered with a mutant lo-fi torched trimmed metronomic purr which had us here swapping initial urges to prize out old Suicide platters of yore instead for outings by the revolutionary corps of teenage Jesus whilst rounding up the pack ’crowned’ is a gorgeously broken slice of buckled psych blues hollowed in hurt and betrayal. http://neuroticwreck.bandcamp.com/album/im-laura-palmer
Something rather sweet and breezy from the folk police camp indeed the same folk to offer safe haven for those genteel types woodbine and ivy band who you may recall appearing in these pages sometimes a while back via a delightful ‘wicker man’ label split with static caravan about more of whom in a second. Anyhow this comes as a limited CD packaged with extensive artist notes from the frugal puritan. Now even the label appear a little bewildered by this outing, story goes the tapes where passed in for consideration with the express wish that the artist in question remained anonymous, matters remain such a mystery that these guys don’t even know when the recordings were made. The plot thickens whereupon inspection of the sleeve notes reveal utopian dreams turning to nightmares, Jesus freaks morphing into Crowley occultists and fair people riddled by a psychopathic madness. Apparently heavy on testament and whiffing of psych folk. Bet that’s piqued your interest. A solitary track has been outed for sampling delight, ’north street reign’ be its name, viewed from the perspective of a murderer this pastoral pretty is an airy blighter deserving of coming pre packed with its own porch, rocking chair and setting sun. crisply coiled rustics mellow and hollow to an introspective melancholia whose regretful tears stain and sting to a ghostly ache rippled in an alluring eloquence that murmurs to a timeless folk tongue dinked in resigned hope and human frailty – does it for us. http://www.folkpolicerecordings.com/index.html
Latest offering from the cathedral transmissions is an ultra limited CD by David Newlyn who I swear despite a fading memory we’ve mentioned in despatches previously. Anyhow this comes in a limited pressing of just 32 copies each housed in a plastic case with a unique photograph taken at the now demolished Ryhope Hospital in Sunderland to the front and text to the rear replete with an insert taken from a page belonging to a recycled book of photographs. Upon the CD incidentally called ‘random pieces’ the adorning of two tracks simply titled ’piano piece’ and ’interlude no.3’ await. Alas we only have preview links – the former a ghostly noir scratched slice of lulling key refrains serenely soldered and exposed to the back dropping hustle bustle of a busying outside world with the latter a dreamily glazed ethereal spinning jenny of sorts. Gem like and fragile – and no doubt sold out.
Footnote – just checked – yep sold out….
And we stir out this particular missive with something rather lulling in which to pack you off to dreamland….
Now somewhere about us – where who knows as we appear to have mislaid it in some typically comical fashion – a note from Matt Bower he of wizards tell lies and revenant sea fame telling us of the various happenings of the former first fold collective who as you all know or should know recently decided to call it a day. This collective was something of a creative hive mind for Birmingham based artists and featured a much envied roster upon whose books the likes of such spirited forward looking aural alchemists convened – geography of nowhere, papa November, them use them, arc vel, the assembled minds (Matt Saunders) and the resource centre the latter of whom feature the extra curricula work of John Hanson (Saunders’ old sparring partner in Magnetophone) who under the nom de plume the resource centre first appeared in these pages a year or so ago with the limited ’school system’ EP via first fold and was last encountered via a specially commissioned cut included on the CD inserted in the debuting issue of the Premier Pli publication (same label / same collective) entitled ‘call crow‘. Now if memory serves me right and swiftly back to that lost message / update I think I’m right in saying that Mr Hanson was working on a planned EP before first fold closed operations some of the fruits of which appear on his sound cloud page the best of which being ’a million voices for nature’ . in short a ten minute visit to heaven in the company of a playfully pirouetting cortege of impish after lights out clock working toy keyboards crafting out an alluring lunar lullaby that tweaks and shuffles like a miniaturized army of fisher price presets under the guiding hand of Raymond Scott tinkering out a snow falling serenade whose beguiled beauty and minimalist simplicity is demurred by a hand crafted chiming choreography that allures and enchants as they interlock, embrace and dissolve into each other. Utterly bewitching.
More of this in about three days time – honest – as ever thanks to all those who’ve been in touch whether labels, press or kind messages from folk with good taste as usual you can contact us at the following drop off points…
Snail – 71 Pennsylvania Road, LIVERPOOL, L13 9BA, UK
Email – email@example.com
face book – www.facebook.com/thesundayexperience
Wordpress – http://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/
Next time out loads of good stuff……..
Till then take care,