singled out – missive 243

Singled Out
Missive 243

For Kel n’ Mark

Singled Out ‘shut the f**k up and play some records’

Hello, hello, hello…
Admittedly we aren’t known for being the keenest admirers of the NME, its not that we hate the magazine its more a case that we feel somewhat saddened by the way its slid in recent times from being the be all and end all commentary on pop as it was in the late 70’s / early 80’s to today’s playground caricature whose only similarity to its past is in name alone. Of course we fully understand and appreciate the fact that times are a changing, priorities are given over to making things a business first and foremost with advertising revenue the defining means to an end. But! Well we’ll leave it there – agreed.

So imagine our pleasant surprise today when rooting around the music shelf of our local newsagent we spied sitting aside the latest issues of the Clash and Wire (the latter who we firmly suspect have gone bi-weekly of late – didn’t we only just mention the Sylvian cover issue a day or so ago – anyhow this one has the latest instalment of the Wire Tapper CD series pined to its sleeve – more about it at the weekend). Anyway back to wherever we where – ah yes the NME. Their Beatles special. A rather fine thing it is to with a choice of 13 limited edition sleeves each one depicting the sleeve art of each Beatle album – ours being ’revolver’ though if we’d have had the chance and choice we’d have killed for ’rubber soul’ or / and ’yellow submarine’. the set can be purchased as a bundle via the NME website store with the added carrot on stick for encouragement being that you can get your hands on a collection completing ultra limited edition copy of the ’magical mystery tour’ cover issue which isn’t available in the shops. Goes without saying they look well tasty.

Now the cynics among you may think – ah yes but its no news week every one has delayed and put back their releases so as not to clash with the historical events surrounding the Beatles being brought kicking and screaming from the analogue work as were and into the brightly lit digital age – (remember young folk its not just the re-masters that go out today but the ’rock band’ game). Whatever the reason NME have seen fit to devote pretty much the entire issue over to the Beatles cause, aside an interview with Macca there‘s an in depth appraisal of each and everyone of the Beatles 13 albums with not a hint of sarcasm or sneer – as admittedly was expectedly. Instead it’s a well written overhaul of the Fab 4‘s work each meticulously stripped and commented upon, nothing to elaborate but enough to wet the appetites of those still sitting on the fence and still undecided whether to commit to buying into the EMI / Apple Corps most prized cash cow. Of course both ’Revolver’ and ’Rubber Soul’ fair well, even ’yellow submarine’ and ’let it be’ are sympathetically re-evaluated yet its ’the white album’ and ’abbey road’ that appear to turn the heads of the NME staff with the latter just edging the vote.

Uh Ho’s ‘the eyes you want’ (NRONE). After a few quite weeks were they seemingly fell off the radar for a few weeks, Norwich’s finest imprint kicks into gear with their winter selection with albums from the Kabeedies and Violet Violet currently chomping at the bit as well as this beautifully barbed brute – the follow up single from the mighty Uh Oh’s following last years speaker scorching card calling debut ’cheat cheater’ (see missive 173). featuring members of the Pistolas this spiked slab of purring to pummelling groove is finitely locked into a 2 minute 15 second seizure surging shakedown, a fiercesomely riotous racket brought to bear by the welding together of prowling and simmering strobes of floor humping death disco grinds, austere tweaked wiring riffage and the momentary eruptions of violent scowls which converge in the most ravaged fashion somewhere around the 1.35 mark wherein matters achieve critical mass and everything goes tits over arse in quite mentally frenzied a la Babes in Toyland finale. Goes without saying you need this in your life.

Lofty Heights ‘eye contact’ (Unit Rad). I once had a friend (and no they weren’t a cardboard cut out, shadow or shaped like a record – a real bonafide friend – okay so not so much a friend just someone I used to know) who often had varying mishaps in the eye contact stakes mainly because he suffered the affliction of having a particularly debilitating squint that rendered it almost impossible to lock eyes with a person of the opposite sex without having the uncontrollable habit of gurning in a Benny Hill as Fred Skuttle way – such unfortunate occasions where often met with random acts of brief violence by the hand of said female the scars of which he depressingly carried and told tales of their coming to be much to the amusement of fellow students during rain drizzled breaks in the school common room. Just thought I’d share that with you though as to why I haven’t the foggiest – oh hang on yes I do now I remember – the debut single from Lofty Heights entitled ‘eye contact’ that’s the bunny – for a second there I thought I was losing the plot though exactly which plot I can’t recall. Its an age thing. It happens to us all – I think. Anyway swiftly back to Lofty Heights before we all start losing the will to live and several plots along the way. A trembling twin-set of twinkle some tastiness or to put it another way a cooing slice of knee knocking shy eyed loveliness all the way from London – or Manor House to be precise. Essentially the handicraft of Greg Griffin and friends – a group of mid 20 year old misfits – their words not mine – who it seem have a fondness for ’tigermilk’ era Belle and Sebastian dashed with trace elements of Gram Parsons, Mike Nesmith and a touch of the Buffalo Springfield’s about their wares. ’eye contact’ replete with lilting softly cured summer rushes and a happy go lucky idleness is a deliciously breezy fancy that canters into your listening space whispering the kind of sweetly sedate homely intones that was once the given remit of the much missed and sadly overlooked Screen Prints. Opening to faux Four Seasons harmonies at the start, this craftily coy cutie soon unfurls and blossoms radiantly bathing the moment with its warmly inviting effervescent brittleness and cloud parting subtle sugar rushes which gathered together have this unnerving effect of making your insides feel all adorably fuzzy and lovelorn. Flip the disc for the equally fetching ‘skeleton apples’ – a lolloping lazy eyed babe delicately threaded with inebriated banjo caresses and decorated with a porch lit casualness that tip toes seductively through a fleeting and fanciful spring hued landscape of clipped 70’s styled countrified MOR accents that immediately scream Beach Boys and Buffalo Springfield (again) yet which are invested with something more becoming of the drifting light headedness of Plastic Mastery as though found swapping notes with a youthful Jumbo. A gem of a debut – which when it appears (5th October – if you have your diary open) will come pressed up on seven inches of clear vinyl with artwork by Sophie Kern with the added bonus being that the first 100 through the door will find their copy accompanied by a packet of apple seeds – now we want some of that.

Lulu and the Lampshades ‘feet to the sky’ (Voga Parochia). Are we agreed that Lulu and the Lampshades is a name that begs to be adored. A quartet hailing from the shop window of a furniture bric-a-brac store somewhere in London who in the real world are individually known as Luisa, Heloise, Jemma and Dan. Known to have an obsession with lampshades, cakes, household furniture, making sounds from unlikely non musical objects – plastic cups / paintbrushes and a tendency to embark on cycling expeditions to Paris at 4am in the morning. All true I’m afraid – well at least we think so – hell it must because it says so in their press release, though it should be said that the cycle ride to Paris may well be a tall story – did anyone tell them about the Channel. ’feet in the sky’ is their first apprehensive dipping of toes in to the heady waters of pop not so much a splash but rather more a playful paddle. Incidentally it also marks the debut outing for the newly set up Voga Parochia imprint. Two cuts – total duration 6 minutes and 41 seconds. Quite possibly the dippiest thing currently on planet pop at this moment. Anything else you need to know. Why of course you do. ’feet to the sky’ is crafted with the skipping fairytale surrealist quirkiness of Serafina Steer, the coy coo shimmies of Lily Allen and the sepia trimmed vintage glow of – say – Doris Day. Okay now you have that in your minds eye, try visualising said trio on a Lear like boat trip that flounders on coral spikes and finds them marooned on some idyllic and inhabited South Pacific isle. Its gorgeously dinky stuff, lilting summer sways off set by exotic breezes and a strangely incurable sounding wonky lullaby fixation that has all the endearing glaze of something recently rescued from the obscurity of a loft. Flip over for the equally quite lull of ‘rose tint’ – again tripped with the lightly dusted flutter of skipping willowy waltz formations, banjo flurries and a deeply homely campfire cuteness that once inside your head plays havoc with the more lazily inclined nature of your psyche – cute some blighter. – okay its been a fair old while since we had cause to hang out the bunting in celebration of featuring something by Yellow 6 and hell – we’re not entirely sure where this exactly fits in the grander scheme of things – but here goes. Apparently this was or is – were not entirely certain – to be released as one of those lathe cut type things – no doubt ridiculously limited in nature as all these polycarbonate vinyl types – ’if you see something’ certainly has something of Henry Mancini about its wares, beautifully brooding, pitched with a parched pensiveness and dutifully decoded with a foreboding controlled discordant edginess that aside finding it roots closely linked with the more sedate and becalmed moments of Bruce Russel’s back catalogue also passes for a dramatic soundtrack score to some deeply complex espionage screen play yet to be written, filmed and aired. Casting an eye on the updates it seems Mr Atwood is busy collating material for an as yet proposed limited issue CD – in addition to this there are plans afoot to invite select guests to ply their song craft skills to coming up with mixes utilising only a three chord sequence laid down by Yellow6 as a guide line. Future collaborations and expected releases are as follows – pardon the laziness but I’ve literally just cut n’ pasted this bit – ‘Larkian / Yellow6 (release on Dead Vox – 3 tracks completed)
thisquietarmy / Yellow6 (improvised recordings, March 2009, Montreal – to be mixed / edited)
3 volume vinyl collaboration with Dirk Serries (Fear Falls Burning)… project formerly known as ‘iamstringsthatrembleunderabow’ is now know as Sleep of Reason. Equation records will release a limited 3 volume vinyl set in limited edition of 100 copies. Details to be confirmed. Volume 1 is recorded, others to follow
With great sadness i regret that the planned collaboration with Dima T Pilot never reached fruition due to his untimely death in May 2009 at the age of 29. I recommend you check out his work as Bosch’s With you and Light under Water.
With more sadness, Danielle Baquet-Long also passed away too soon in July at the age of 26. I recommend her work as Celer (with husband Will), and her solo work as Chubby Wolf.
Both leave a lasting legacy of work as a reminder of the fragility of this existence and importance of making the most of our time on this earth’ – we will of course ourselves be checking for links for both Dima T Pilot and Danielle Baquet-Long and hopefully featuring and mentioning their work in these pages in the near future.

Apologies for the omission but we should have mentioned the Andy Nice remixes for Yellow6 which you hear by navigating through the Artic Circle radio site at – Andy of course has his debut solo album currently doing the rounds on Front and Follow – a copy of which we have – have loved and have momentarily mislaid – we’ll be rooting the blighter out of its hidey hole at the weekend – for now though go to

The Light Streams ‘the lost’ EP (self released). Okay let’s just start by saying that this is stunning. And I mean stunning in an Amsterdam type way . Amsterdam of course – for those of you either residing under a rock these last few years or bereft of musical taste – posted one of the finest melodic moments to shuffle and swagger its way from the banks of the Mersey since should have been bigger erstwhile have mouth with guitar local legend Pete Wylie stepped behind a microphone and started pissing pop masterpieces at the drop of a hat. The Light Streams hail from Leeds, number three in the ranks and in the guise of the four track ’the lost’ EP have delivered the kind of crusading chest beating pop gold that causes radio dials to rattle, hearts to flutter and tingles to break out like contagious heat spots. There’s no doubting that the Light Streams have tapped upon a richly vibrant pop seam wherein the finitely sourced ingredients of bracing verve, effervescent crests and tear stained Saturday night closing time heart burners all converge as one into emotion humbling festival lighting epics – the driving codas, the slyly rifled struts, the coalescing countrified MOR grandeur and that unwavering sense of hope over adversity embellish this debut, so what if the bruised and torn ’Save me Sally’ see saws with a hanged dog demeanour that has it sounding like a lost blood brother to Oasis’ ’wonderwall’ and ’don’t look back in anger’ or the fact that the opener ’Caroline’ simmers, shimmers and shimmies like a would be lost nugget from the song crafting pen of Lee Mavers. ’whatever gets you through (gets you through)’ is blessed by a slyly uber cool poke in the eye Stateside calling persona that registers somewhere between both a youthful Steve Earle and Bruce Springsteen with Tom Petty just out of view working his imitable magic from the wings though quite frankly all said and done its left to ’City Walls’ to steal the spotlight, a blood rushing soaring gemstone that kicks like a flag bearing prime time Alarm at full tilt metering out a pristinely wrapped sweeping country tweaked rock-a-boogie sortie whose remit you suspect is to leave you uplifted all a swooning and numbed n’ gob smacked. – apologies are due to – I think – Nina who if we recall rightly recently sent an email enquiring the whereabouts of certain links for our review of her and Ben’s debut single ‘accelerator’ – as it happens its via missive 239 and just for those of you who can’t be arsed rummaging around and site hopping we’ve lazily re-pasted it here –

The Unkindness of Ravens ‘accelerator’ (sonic fire).maybe its just me but without looking at the press release or indeed the playing of the tracks within by their name alone we had a fair inkling that this was going to be something that was up our street. And we were not left disappointed. This debut twin set from the North London based duo (Nina and Ben in case you were wondering) re-affirms and provides evidence aplenty as to why the Unkindness of Ravens are slowly assuming an enviable reputation on the local live circuit. ‘accelerator’ is diligently dinked with a deceptively dark and damaged scuzz scorned purr that scowls with succulent seduction, its hot and horny fusion of austere tweaked post punk death discofied electronics and distressed garage glam accents ensures its slides and writhes across your turntable with such decadence and curdled lust that you may feel obliged – nay – in dire need – of an ice cold shower. Reference wise you couldn’t do any worse in looking upon it as a shabby low rent love in between Suicide, Moroder and Levelload though watch for the occasionally brief detours into Toni Bail ’mickey’ realms. Flip over and you get ‘yours forever but not to hold’ is apparently something of a live favourite, according to the press release a song about longing and futile love – hey kids your talking to a person who wrote the damn book on the subject, anyhow before we go seriously off road and running wildly into the distance this bruised cutie is – shall we say – a little scarred and battered about the edges pop diamond, the kind of thing that in another time and place would have been played by a certain John Peel as a casual show closer and found itself by the year end running off with the hallowed Festive Fifty top spot in a Bang Bang Machine type way – which curiously enough is what it sounds like. Indie kids prepare to swoon en masse. Perfect.

Goes without saying that its one of THE debuts of the year, both Ben and Nina are possessed of a deliciously statue-esque song craft that in recent times is probably only matched by the wonderful Insect Guide and Maudite Dance both of whom appear to have gone strangely quiet of late with the former having promised a few weeks ago to send over new stuff which sadly to date has registered a no show in our gaff to much crestfallen disappointment. Anyway the above tracks ’accelerator’ and ’yours forever but not to hold’ can be heard via the duos my space player with the addition of four more looming in the shadows nuggets the best of which from initial listens appears to be the grizzled and scarred ’dead air’ which to these ears courtesy of its fuzzy discordance and austere electronics sounds like a ice tipped fusion of Ex Post Facto and the intermittently re-activated March Violets mind you that said ’white road’ is no slouch either and may well prove in time to be the duo’s most darkly romantic moment and something which admirers of Curve would do well to immediately set their radars towards.

Obfusc ‘inverted island’ (static caravan).Another release to which we have to hold our hands up in saying we’re none to certain where it fits in the grander scheme of all things Static Caravan. Primed as the labels 194th release a copy of which when we wandered casually passed their website was revealed to have not only a different sleeve but noted as being paraded as a strictly limited 300 only set. And this is where the mystery begins because our copy seems to be an ultra limited 30 only hand numbered version, ours is #17 in case you were wondering. It took a little delving around and some help from our trusted Holmes-esque inspection glass to unravel this puzzle and of course some enlightenment on the matter from Obfusc himself via his myspace site which we‘ll have you know can be located by re-arranging your spying glass and viewfinders towards for it seems that the well oiled Static Caravan wax presser had a moment of excitable madness and knocked out an additional 30 copies over the required quota. With no surplus sleeves into which to house them Ben Javens was swiftly called in to dream up a new sleeve with Joseph X Burke AKA Obfusc sent to the little room under the stairs with a box of creative bric-a-brac and refused release until he’d crafted a treasure map depicting ’inverted island’ to which to use as a limited issue numbered and signed insert. As to the actual release – well those of you with long-ish memories may well recall us mentioning the cuts ’inverted island’ and ’oceanic glow’ when they were gathered up onto a criminally limited as then untitled Static promo which was reviewed with much fondness at Missive 217 – a cut n’ paste of which for those of you feeling a tad lazy we’ve reprinted here – still sounds to us like a sublimely sophisticated slice of nocturnally glowed dub tweaked speaker salivating lounge-tronics with ‘oceanic glow‘ still proving to be our favoured side of the mix gilded as it is in divinely beset orbiting oscillations the type of which where very much a trademark house sound at one time of the legendary Warp sound house…….we’re so good to you…..

Obfusc ‘inverted island’ (static caravan). Not officially out for a few weeks but oh my – this is gorgeous. ‘inverted island’ marks Obfusc’s first appearance on vinyl following releases for the much admired Boltfish one of which being a split with Cheju of whom we swear we’ve recently received two releases by – one on the aforementioned Boltfish imprint and the other via – I’m sure of – distant noise – both of which we’ll be dusting down for review in a day or three. Obfusc is the sound-scaping alter ego of New York based graphic designer / photographer Joseph X. Burke. Two cuts feature on this rather dashing and demurring advance copy alas no titles as yet but frankly who needs titles when the sounds are this seductive. Recommended for maximum listening effect by the racking up of the stereophonic volume controls that way you get to experience the full on bathing of their panoramic glow. ‘Track one’ comes adorned with a crunchy beat undergrowth that’s dinked longingly by a deeply sultry lights low spectrally tweaked down tempo aura, perfect for the nocturnal romantics among you given it enhances a delightfully chilled and sophisticated mood to the surroundings, much like the aforementioned Cheju and Maps and Diagrams, Obfusc applies a minimalist electronic craft, the dream weaving dimples and sparsely adhered effects meld together shifting in and out of focus to cocoon the listener in mellowing hypnotic halos the effect being encapsulated and iced by the shimmer casts of reclining reverbs. that said we here are more than a mite smitten by ’track 2’ the stronger cut of the brace in our much humbled opinion, with its little lunar pirouettes, spiralling celestial mirages, the stealth allure of glassy Robin Guthrie-esque riff chimes not to mention its sweetly curdling syncopating rhythmic charms – what’s not to love about this orbiting star crossed twinkling lullaby as it curtsy’s, coos and caresses its way through your defences. Best just surrendering to the moment, close your eyes and drift away. – hopefully by now you are all to aware of our want and love for strange, odd or just plain old attractive sounding named ensembles, well while we were having a peep at Obfusc’s my space page we took a moment to check out his friends – noting with interest this lot. Okay granted they don’t sound strange or even odd or for that matter now as you come to ask – attractive – instead rather more unusual in a sore thumb sticking out type way from the littered line up of futuristic and often alien sounding souls on view amid their top friends roll call. A little skulking around in search of more information revealed to us that the Dead Dinosaurs are a duo hailing from Brooklyn – a collaborative guise pairing together Jason Banker and Joseph X Burke – the latter of whom will be more recognisable among those of you taking notes as Obfusc – who incidentally we mentioned only a second ago (do keep up at the back). Anyhow three tracks have so far been posted on their my space site with ‘Aurora Borealis Mornings’ opening the suite, a gorgeously albeit brief sedate and stilled slice of opining chill tipped ice sculptured loveliness – lonesome, detached and lilting that‘s beautifully complimented by ‘forgotten sea‘ which as the title may well hint is awash with ebbing and flowing tidal swathes sweetly caressed by the delicate pit-a-patter of crunchy snow trodden beats that soon blossom into glazing wide screen mirages that could easily pass on a given day for something inspired by Ultravox‘s ‘systems of romance‘ as though recalibrated by a seriously chilled out Apollo 440. All said it takes ’simulacrum’ for them to hatch out from their shy eyed hermetically sealed shell and weaved their more playfully obtuse mindset to craft something decidedly off balanced and crookedly funky in a Herbie Hancock ‘rock it’ type way – of course we here are detecting a youthful Minotaur Shock thing at work concocting some hybrid futuro smooze for robotic lonely hearts. – I think I’m right in saying that we mentioned Mexican sonic terrorist Mario Umberto Quiroga by way of the last singled out missive when we gushed to the sounds crafted under his Vertex Germ guise. A quick message from the man himself made mention of his other project Vulgar Disease. Pitched beneath the ‘experimental’ umbrella and ominously promising ‘hardcore, fright noise and power violence’ he’s so far released some dozen and a half releases including collaborations / splits with the likes of the excellent named Tina Torture, Bagman, Planchette and Headless Rapist as well as featuring on compilations put out by the Pavilion 36, Inhibited, Manteen and KSER imprints. A handful of cuts feature on his showcasing my space player – its unrelenting stuff, skin peeling caustic power electronics pitched to near breakdown and set at such ear splitting and pummelling frequencies that you suspect objects of metal composition will indeed warp, bend and stress given the ferocious nature of their scathing sonic settings. Not I should add one for the verse chorus verse children of pop, this is more like an acid bath blitzkrieg of densely manipulated white skree mayhem. Both hellish and chilling Vulgar Disease will no doubt find a fond spot among admirers of the much loved Tayside Mental Health and Kylie Minoise (to name just two perfectionists of the power electronics genre), tracks such as ‘des orgien mysterien theater’ and ‘tlatelolco ‘68’ are unforgiving slabs of torturous extreme musique concrete – cauldrons of bludgeoning and vicious white noise decay, keeping up the finer tradition of body part references much loved by the noise fraternity and invariably always loosely associated with bowels and intestines – rectal anarchy’ could easily be the amplified workings of your game console as you commit it to blood culling fantasy battles though that said Jap core purists especially those freebasing on the head melting sonic structures of Masonna may well think you’ve arrived at some kind of mid way refuelling point to noise heaven. All said though our particular favoured moment comes at the oncoming of ‘angry Mexican parrot’ – which aside leaving you suitably dread filled with its flat lined apocalyptic scowls and eerily disembodied child like screams and cat calls sounds very much to these blitzed ears like some unholy re-enactment of a dental room atrocity. As with the Vertex Germ releases all Vulgar Disease outings (bar the comps) can be downloaded for free by following the noted links – dare you pass up on the offer we wonder, crucial for those with neighbours possessing questionable music taste. – did you honestly think that you we were going to pass up on a chance to share with you the delights of Tina Torture – tut tut – seems you don’t know us that well at all. Hailing from Romania and currently looking for a label we should first say that those among you with the potential to be offended by sexually graphic depictions ought to maybe either give this amiss or view with the monitor covered up, I mean we were in the middle of our bowl of cereal happily minding our own business munching away when a video of a young lady stripped naked and being held down by a burly bloke and a masked woman was being given – what can only be described as an ’anal fisting’ – there I’ve said it – most distressing viewing at any time of the day not least first thing in the morning when there is the real potential for choking oneself on their cornflakes. Anyhow two tracks feature on the my space showcase player – very much tuned into the Jap noise culture of blending sado-masochist / fetish imagery with violent white skree – ’noise #002’ being particularly unsettling not least for its debauched dungeon lit orgasmic terrorism – quite frankly we even wondered whether this was entirely legal – for amid the welts of grimly gauged hell bound sandblasts the sounds of X-rated yelps of a female either in the throes of being met with some act of bestiality or brutalised torture can clearly be heard – really is a worrying thing. ’noise #006’ is no friendlier – again amid the wiring Spartan sound details there’s clearly the sound of a whipping session in full throw followed by what can only described as something truly unholy feasting on something – and not I hasten to add necessarily a bowl of corn flakes – its something that may well test the palette of the most extreme sound loving punter and certainly not something to be played during the gathering of family folk for Sunday lunch unless of course you happen to be related to Ed Gein.

Hands up those of you who can’t get enough of the Beatles – if you race down to your local newsagent you should be able to secure yourselves a copy of ‘guide to the Beatles’ which comes tucked inside the supplement heavy Times. A pocket sized 38 page booklet featuring contributions, recollections and commentaries from the likes of Klaus Voormann – who incidentally also graces the booklets cover with an image from his recently released Beatles montages – Brian Wilson, Richard Hawley, Danny Baker, Sarah Cracknell and Jonathon Ross. Admittedly nothing new to add to the written pantheon of words committed to the Fab 4 cause but an excellent entry level précis of the Beatles from their formative early years development wherein they wore their 50’s influences on their sleeves and set the pace in bands writing their own material – a move that unintentionally killed the careers of the likes of the Brill Building song craftsmen to the Asher families influence on McCartney’s arty face about town persona and Lennon’s own creative development via LSD and ultimately to their eventual re-mapping of the pop vocabulary via their studio experimentation. – hailing from Kilmarnock, Audiologist whose real identity for now appears a secret is also co-founder of net label Section 27, an imprint who alas as yet have yet to be honoured with a much deserved write up – alas don’t worry its on the back burner somewhere down the line. For now though as said we stray the spotlight on Audiologist who as it happens is just about to release his debut full length ’question everything’ via the aforementioned Section 27 label – his first solo outing following his three previous collaborations with Nonima – gets terribly confusing doesn‘t it. Anyhow Audiologist crafts the most tranquil and surrendering of sounds, these opining overtures tingle and twinkle with all the suspended charm and beauty of frosted ice sculptures, both dainty and delicate – alluring and arresting their sepia trimmed treatments tremble as though melancholic mirages of fragmented memories rippling through the ether, sweetly bitter in design and sensitive and spectral in texture these twilight treats are best viewed in the stillness afforded by a nocturnal setting that way they are able to unfurl their shyly reclined persona. The case is perhaps best exemplified by the touchingly crushed head bowed ethereal echoes of the chamber chilled becalming ambience of the fragile ‘ophiuchi’ and the austere casings of the Broadcast meets John Carpenter ’downothing’. elsewhere the minimalist micro worlds of Cheju are recalled on the sparsely serviced starry eyed ache of the detached ’seti made rain jazz’ while emerging from its ominous Goblin-esque guise ’knightspire’ soon flickers into view to a most slyly seductive dissipating cascade of coolly stirred bowed calypso accents, slinkily swirling sky signalling serenading swathes and tear streaked lonesomeness. All the releases can be downloaded for free via links on the site – can’t say fairer than that – so what are you waiting for – fill yer boots and bliss out.

More of this in a day or three – many thanks to the usual suspects for helping, aiding and abetting and just generally loitering around in the cobbling together of these musings not forgetting you – yes you reading this right now for taking time out to view such.

Till next time – take care of yourselves


‘first aired September 2009

This entry was posted in archive and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s