Monday, February 26, 2007

When I'm not bum rushing the three o'clock showing of Norbit in my boxers, I listen to:

Aaron Dilloway : Since He's Been Gone c60 : Fag Tapes
At his best, Dillo's all about the garbage sounds presented in crystal clarity. And I'd say this is Dillo at his best. The A starts out with shifting cassette loops, kinda like an AM radio Philip Jeck, before things start getting run through the effects meat grinder. Then he just brings the goods, striking the perfect balance between repetition and, uh, not repetition. There's a part at the end of the first side where a Chan Marshall-esque vocal floats over some fuzzy-guzzy, somehow chopped to maintain the phrasing but cleave the words of all meaning. It's a brief glimpse of something. Something right midst a whole lotta wrong. A loving neck rub oasis midst a desert of copped feels. Then things twist ever so slightly and it all gets a bit deranged. Sound familiar?

Flower-Corsano Duo : The Radiant Mirror : Textile
I think I saw him referred to as Christ Corsano. That's it, sweet Rapture's a comin! Look for me, I'll be waving down at you all as I get Raptured up, grinnin like a sumbitch.
You can see the appeal. It's like the Christian version of, "They'll all be sorry when I kill myself." "Ha ha, fuckers!" WOOOOOOOOSSSHHHH.
In all serioosness, this is like the very peak of Marquee Moon, when you stand in your most magnificent air guitar pose and make little trilling noises like "beeyoo-beeyoo" and "wadaleep-wadaleep," but for 40 minutes.... ON ACID!!!!

Pink Reason : Cleaning the Mirror : Siltbreeze
But for the most part, things are kind of a drag. Am I right? I mean if you've got yourself set up with good food, good wine and good women, (or a popcorn bowl full of pills and a stack of Royal Trux cds) more power to ya, but I can't say I'm really a fan of the whole life thing, at least unmitigated. So Kevin DeBroux's here, and he's got a whole world of weeping willows and fog-shrouded moonlight for you to get all fetal in. Really, it's a whole world of achey sound, and it'll melt down your whole puffed up nothing shit. Make it all seem far, far away. Amazing. Beautiful. Dare I say perfect.
5 out of 5. Highest recommendation. All that.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

I'm currently in the thrall of two nostalgic obsession, and Google is doing nothing to help me with them. I guess they lack what's called "internet presence."
One's an anonymous Guided by Voices song. The first two GBV songs I ever heard were non-album free downloads off some long defunct website, one of which was a live version of "Wished I Was a Giant," while the other floored me. I listened to it over und over and never heard anything Pollard-penned that I liked as much, but all I can remember about it is that there might have been a lyric about a factory. It was bouncy, in a "Kicker of Elves" sort of way. Or not. I even looked through what was supposedly a list of every GBV song ever, in the hopes that some name would ring a bell, knowing full well what kind of haystack of futility random GBV song titles made. Something would catch my eye and I'd ponder it for a while and realise it was off Alien Lanes.
The other is a music video I saw on a Wedge Halloween special many years back. The Wedge is Muchmusic's "alt" show, which currently showcases Arctic Monkeys, White Stripes and electro videos, but was genuinely esoteric in the Sook-Yin Lee erra. This special was notable for two videos that genuinely creeped me out, one being the first time I saw the now ubiquitous "Come to Daddy" video, and the other which I'm almost certain was for a Third Eye Foundation song. It was at some sort of outdoor altar, but on a set (who does this anymore, apart from Guy Maddin? on location is boring.) with a few religious figures of vaguely Middle Eastern origin, maybe Jewish, but like an "old weird" Jewish, moving around at weird speeds or backwards or something. It's probly nowhere near as gone-zo as I recall, but there's nothing on YouTube, and actually no mention of any Third Eye Foundation music video on the internet, apart from short films Matt Elliott has soundtracked.
I kind of have a similar feeling to when I go shopping with a certain style of jacket or shoe in mind and can't find it anywhere. I'd like to advise the local business peoples that I have money which I'd gladly give to them, they just have to provide me with what I want. It always seems so clear cut. Except now I have no money and noone has any real reason to help me, apart from the possibility that this stuff might be good, but in reality will probly just give me a nostalgic half-mast for about five minutes. Whatever. Sorry for wasting your time.
Back's all good.

siege : drop dead
deep wound ep
sebadoh : the freed weed
dead c / hi god people split
aaron dilloway : since he's been gone
magik markers : the voldoror dance
his hero is gone : monuments to thieves
tragedy : vengeance
pan sonic : kulma
showers : live in rats eyes
death unit : infinite death
adolescents : s/t

Saturday, February 03, 2007

Holy dinah, I caught the dubstep bug, and I's coughin up blood, I yam. Big, clotted, mucusy chunks. But not really though. That was a while back.
Been listening to a lot, just don't have that much to say about it. That Milanese and Boxcutter stuff is good, just a bit busy for my lissening plays-ear. I'ma be more at ease spelunking in the bass caverns carved out by the likes of Digital Mystikz, Skream, Loefah... Croydon massive? That 2disc Vol. 4 of Tempa's Dubstep Allstars is more my can of beans. Of course, there'a a lot to be said for the twelves themselves. DMZ's Ancient Memories with Skream's remix on the flip is zzzzonked. And the Burial album just gets better with every listen. Nuff said.
So I've taken this dubstep state of mind as an opportunity to finally get into the Upsetter. And I've tried. I think AllMusicGuide steered me wrong for the 12,357th time and told me to check out Super Ape first. Like, everything's compilations, what's a good album from the guy, y'know? And Super Ape is kinda good, I guess. You have to understand, my notion of the legend, Lee 'Scratch' Perry, was that my love of sound would override my natural disposition towards disliking bouncy island music which makes it completely impossible for me to wallow in self pity. I mean, I wasn't expecting Sun Ra or anything, but maybe I kinda was, and apart fom the odd bongo sound having me bugged out, nothing on the album had me thinking he was a 'magician of sound,' at least no more than anyone in an analogue studio filled with pot smoke and crappy equipment. I guess it'd be a trip if you threw it on your Audi's factory installed stereo after you'd had enough Jr. Gong and Matisyahu, but I'd already moved on.
So I done my homework and I realised that the Perry era I most want to hear is probly the least documented. After much success with Studio1, Bob Marley, basically inventing reggae, and publicly falling out with many former associates, Perry was signed to Island Records, doing endless production work and reaping mucho international success and respect. At the same time, Island is rejecting the work he's most proud of, and the local criminal element start's wanting a piece, so he finds himself increasingly being either deceived or blatantly extorted. And then his studio burned down. These are the situations where the line between eccentric and batshit crazy starts getting real fuckin blurry. So, surprisingly enough, he didn't do any recording for a while, until some Dutchies passed him some equipment before pulling the plug and editing together The Return of Pipecock Jackxon. To make a Syd Barrett analogy, and why not, it's his Madcap Laughs. A bit thin and fragile compared to earlier doings, and marred by outside influences. And like The Madcap Laughs, it's brilliant. But listen back a couple of years to Roast Fish, Collie Weed and Corn Bread (rejected by island. so were a couple others. anyone know what they were?) and hear the technicolor wonder that was the Black Ark. Still a bit 'sunny side up' for me, but undeniably twisted. The backing vocals on 'Throw Some Water In' say it all. I like, I like, (i'm getting there) but fast forward just a wee bit to '79. The year of the fire, all the stresses in Perry's life at their abolute height, he records a track called 'City Too Hot,' and it has to be the most suffocatingly thick dub I've ever heard. If this was the first Perry I'd ever heard, he would've under-promised and over-delivered. So finally, I'm left wanting more. I've been listening through that Arkology 3disc, and I'm thinking about checking out a collection of singles off Perry's Black Art label, but if anyone can point me in the direction of just a few more primo '79 era Black Ark tracks, for the love of jah, hook a brother up.
And under the header of 'Personal Achievements & Genuine Afflictions,' I've managed to injure myself doing absolutely nothing. Pinched nerve in the lower back. Complete hobblement with short bursts of severe pain. And these T3s are disappointing. I thought I'd be drifting through Mario Bava films real gassy, all smiles and far off giggles. But really, they just make me relaxed enough to rub one out in a serious manner every now and again. Actually, that ain't so bad. Never mind.