Tales from the Attic
Volume XXV – part 1
Revolutions of a 45 and 33 kind…..
This edition includes fond words poured forth upon the following musical types……
Axxa Abraaxas, menage et trois, the great electric, the memory band, ghost box, Tokyo isolation chamber, gazelle twin, qui, cyborgdrive, flies-flies, hypnotised, Dodson and fogg, swimming pool, Prescott, darlia, the Manitou, inuili, hex horizontal, ak’chamel, processing room, spool, satellites, doris a schall, nicholas fair, white candles, spiritualized Mississippi space program, six years, eastern hollows, brace / choir, caught in the wake forever, cyan341, dead leaf echo, the zzips, the rails, schnauser, oliver cherer, black Saturn, ebinger, cold metal future, rasplyn, john 3:16, fluid, frequencies of existence, laica, macu, omega dub experience, the use
Small acts of kindness. I’m not one who gets easy overcome, often I expect the worst and brace myself accordingly with walls, barriers and a general want for not wanting to play out with the public. Now like most, I’ve screwed up in the past, pretty much withdrawn from everyone and everything and have oft considered even shelving my love of music. The latter precipitated in the main by the untimely fall and subsequent disappearance of Losing Today and with its passing the loss of almost over a decades worth of reviews. For me personally this was a massive blow, physically you couldn’t have hit me as hard to equate the abject loss and pain suffered, these review archives where in essence akin to me as most people would look upon a photograph album, each review symbolised a moment and period in my life, I’d be immediately transported back, I could tell you the weather, what was going on in my life, picture the scene and instantly recall my thoughts and thinking processes whilst typing up the critiques. In addition they proved an invaluable reference source for myself interesting to note that we jumped on my space while it was still in its infancy before the powers that be ruined what was an excellent birthing pool for new bands trying to promote their wares – very ’76 / 77 DIY, sometimes the grey matter needs a nudge and a simple search on google with the bands name and the hallowed losing today descriptor would often provide the required memory jog.
In recent weeks our mood was buoyed by the discovery of various hard drives from old redundant computers, perhaps these would contain within them those lost reviews, alas most of them where damaged beyond repair, our hopes were dashed. And then we issued a plea for help via our face book page, appreciably many bands got in touch with citations linking to reviews I’d done in the dark dim past. And then a game changer. having asked if I had copies of an old review I’d done for their ‘atom spark hotel’ album some years ago, Jet from Schizo Fun Addict messaged to say that he had found said review on an archive site which he’d tripped over whilst answering to our distressed plea for help, the appeared to have taken screenshots of the site – at the time of writing he wasn’t sure whether all the links worked but all the same sent over the relevant site address. And there for the first in over two years was the familiar Losing Today home page, there was a momentary tear and we hovered the cursor over the section called ‘mark’s tales’ wherein all the singled out missives where housed, a momentary pause of trepidation held us, would the links work, we clicked, they did. And there they were – nearly 400 missives, stacks of album reviews, the infamous charts and a thought lost Gary Numan interview.
The magazine sadly fell by the way side some years back, the website followed, quietly disappearing from cyberspace in 2012. Well its true to say I grumbled at the time and occasionally since about the manner at which it disappeared, in terms of a brand name it was a pleasure to be part of with the publishers / owners affording me a creative freedom to write, comment and promote whatever I liked. All that leaves me to do is to offer a massive thanks to Jet for salvaging these and reuniting my words back to me. For those of a curious nature the archive – at this point we also should offer a massive thanks of gratitude to the web archive organisation for preserving these – you can find these pages at http://www.web.archive.org/web/20120201000000*/http://losingtoday.com
Ando so onwards with the latest Tales from the Attic- a three part special no less……
Something else we are saving for a closer listen next but two or three missives out – well next week in fact by our reckoning – is a new platter from the criminally cool Captured Tracks stable courtesy of Ben Asbury who prefers it seems to secret hide behind his chosen Axxa Aabraxas nom de plume. Enough of the why’s and the wherewithal for his self titled debut promises psych, 60’s garage, jangle pop and sunny melodies – well that’s what it say here on the press release and boy they weren’t kidding for despite only having a chance to briefly check out the sets opening brace we’ve been blown clean off our listening perch – ’on the run’ – a recent single no less – is a killer slab of strut grooved skin tight jeans and winkle picker wearing textbook rock-a-hula that pouts and swaggers with the spectre of Vince Taylor sitting high perched on its shoulder and smouldered in the blue mountain drive by cool of White Denim. Elsewhere opener ’all that’s passed’ is uber cooled in the soft seduction of fading sultry skies and sweetly crushed and basked in chime chirped west coast dimples that flirt and coolly smoke to the breathless opine of an as were studio gathering of Avi Buffalo and Summer Hymns types being hustled by a ‘copy cats’ era Johnny Thunders.
Again I must admit a sneaking fondness for this un, pulled from their ‘bogans of death’ mix tape – the third cut to be prized in fact – Mancunian cool cuties Manage et Trois have just released a video to accompany the cut ’white noise’ which sumptuously blends subtly crafted smoking hot retro disco murmurs bled from DNA hatchlings giving birth to a Studio 54 sub species hybrid with the kind of sophisticat under grooving of the strangely missing in action of late No Ceremony, one for after dark lights dimmed listening appreciation we warrant……
Think we mentioned bureau B in passing a few paragraphs ago when we were road testing Cyborgdrive’s rephrasing for the kalma imprint – see above – and so like the devil popping up on your shoulder at the mere mention of his name – the blighters have only gone and announced new groove courtesy of Automat. Now mark my words this special. Very special. Automat are made up variously of Die Haut, Prag and Sovetskoe Foto members. They invite guests such as Genesis Breyer P-Orridge, Lydia Lunch and Blixa Bargeld to invade the grooves. The three appear here applying narratives. Even by Bureau B’s quality distinction and formidable stylising, ’Automat’ – the album title – raises the bar considerably pushing the label far into trance void. Earmarked for full listening next week we’ve been so far blown away by opening ambit ’THF’. A mooching beauty blending dub-tronics with a strangely familiar thickly smoked middle eastern mantra whose subtly tripped out industrial hypno groove should appeal first hearing to those of you seduced by the snake charming accents of John 3:16. Add to the palette the clinically cool engraving of Depth Charge spectres, the loop drilled mesmerics of 70 Gwen Party not to mention the ambi psych underlay of Loop being spirited away into the mix and this makes for a mind bending Dadaist odyssey. Yowzah.
Now I’ll be totally honest in saying that when we got an email from an unnamed PR team asking us to preview a track by a band they were working with well we were expecting all manner of blood, gore and hellfire. Why so you might well ask, simply because said PR have an incurable knack of sending over sounds that more often than not sound like an oncoming Revelations styled storm. So there we where – tin hat, barricades and certain that we’d sured ourselves up for the inevitable sonic holocaust. And then something rather meek, mild and chirpily cute came tumbling from the speakers. And fools we felt I can tell standing there wearing kitchen utensils for makeshift battle armoury. Qui be their name, they hail stateside somewhere and ’awkward human interest’ heads up what we gather is an imminent debut. Really is a cutie blessed with stuttering ad hoc riffage that shuffles to an out of step time signature that you fear any second soon might just calamitously end up in a heap which all said had us recalling loosely a less agitant Playwrights, but then hit the 1.29 mark and something quite irresistible emerges, the harmonies crystallise into a mellowing honey crush and the riff line begin to smoke and opine deliciously to reveal a mercurial sun kissed glow whose craft seductively nods to the quietly cool sophistication of the Panda Gang nee BDI’s and the early career back catalogue of kitchenware records. http://www.soundcloud.com/tom-brumpton-pr/qui-awkward-human-interest
The absolute dogs bollocks this and another release that has – I’m afraid to admit – become somewhat temporarily disconnected from its press release leaving us quite frankly clueless as to where and how it came to be stumbling upon our listening space. This is the debut single from flies-flies, a self released outing that once hitting the shops will arrive pressed upon thick slabs of ten inch each housing inside a Nick Roberts risograph print. For those mourning the apparent gone into prolonged hibernation of working for a nuclear free city, flip side ’Sufi’ ought to be of immediate listening interest, a subterranic dub totalled cutie harnessed upon a dream weaved and highly intoxicating Arabesque snake wind and grizzled raw in a sparse detached minimalism that acutely echoes back through the years to a youthful ‘the seduction’ era Danse Society. That said centrepiece is without question ‘bad crab hand’ – deliciously dark and shadow lined in chamber toned torch hybrids that flicker and weave to a subtle macabre motif that’s cradled and creaking in a haunting 60’s afterglow and pressed upon decidedly unhinged psyche that draws the invisible sonic dots between the Neighbourhood and Barry Adamson. http://www.soundcloud.com/fliesandflies/sets/flies-flies-bad-crab-hand-10
Fancy a spot of out there mind morphing electro cosmicalia, let me then introduce you to the aptly named hypnotized who’ve just been signed by the love thy neighbour imprint and are shortly set to return the favour by releasing the ‘telesto’ EP from out of whose grooves trips ’ghost walk’ – now we are thinking lunar carousels, angelic apparitions, Joe Meek styled wizardry all woven into the most gorgeously weightless and airless treasure you’ll hear in such an age all dimpled in amorphous wisps and kissed with a fringe flicking hallucinogenic serenity that blossoms like an astral love embarking on a trippy out of body space walk, quite possibly the soundtrack played out as you pass beyond the veil……
Shaping up to be an enjoyable listening excursion if what we hear by way of the opening brace of cuts are anything to judge by though we suspect that enjoyment might be excelled a tad by the acquiring of a pipe, the growing of a pointy goatee beard, a big thick cable stitch polar neck jumper and an hours worth of the practising of a thoughtful Maths lecture like stare into the distance. Imminent on the slow foot imprint I’ll have to admit that I want one of these as soon as for its by Prescott, the latest musical nom de plume from Stump man Kev Hopper here aided and abetted by Messrs Marsden and Byng. ’one did’ is a dizzying abstraction of doozy woozy math grooved art pop gouged floatiness dimpled in tightly arranged jazz accents all dinked in a far out library sound all indelibly rooted in an early 70’s flavouring that suggests it’ll arrive housed in a groovy flock wallpaper wraparound. As said we’ve quickly previewed the opening brace of cuts from the album, ’didism’ sumptuously found crookedly navigating what at first sounds like some acutely angular bastard off spring kookily conceived to soundtrack some deeply retro Open University prog whilst impishly straying into the cartoonish realms of ’danger mouse’ before emerging from out of the other side like some beard stroking deeply intense groove as were drawn from the collected mindset of a pairing of L’Augmentation and Pram types. ’Floored’ on the other hand is delightfully fancied in squirreling riff contortions and smoked in ad hoc time signatures and a heavily set jazz phrasing that suggests in the ranks exist admirers of Henry Cow. Head stewing stuff.
I hate windows. Not the type that you look out of but those that Microsoft laughingly refer to as an operating platform or as the case be in our gaff at present a very inoperative and near non existent platform. These last few days we’ve been bedevilled by unresponsive pages and a near stalling to a halt waiting for various tools, reloads and whatever else to wake themselves up or return from prolonged lunch breaks. Now normally I’m a mellow man of chilled repose, but where there such a thing as cybercide I swear I’d be guilty through lunging said laptop through patio windows in true Herculean style through frustration. I say all this because we’ve spent the best part of an hour trying miserably and with failing results to open up a sound file containing a digital download of ’the call’ – incidentally the latest album from Dodson and Fogg. Grumbling and teeth gnashing aside we’ll try again come morning tomorrow. By way of an advanced call as to what to expect we do thankfully have the video accompanying ’mystery’ a track from said album and damn fine it is. For the uninitiated, Dodson and Fogg is in essence a certain Chris Wade who occasionally along with a merry band of guests and friends variously from Hawkwind, Fairport Convention, trees, knife world et al have over the course of two years cut 4 quietly acclaimed albums of such craft, industry and vision as to have you thinking you’d been time tunnelled to a peace loving genteel commune c. 1968. So far removed from the trumped up here today forgotten tomorrow short sell by date transparent pop peppered through the media these days, Mr Wade and Co’s approach is refreshingly old school, timeless and incurably as memorable as it is touching. ’mystery’ is case in point – and incidentally prized from that aforementioned latest set ’the call’ – emerged from the mists traced to the ghostly weaves of mountain folk spectres long since laid to rest, there’s an entrancing hymnal glow rising from the campfire embers that recalls the early career utterances of Tunng, though scratch a little deeper and the meditative fumes and the lolloping sitar craft a drug induced haze to imagine a ceremonial bong passing along the line whose effects are realised towards the fade wherein all goes slightly off road, trippy to drift somewhere far out.
Prized from the Static Waves 2 compilation put out by the wonderful Saint Marie imprint, which I think I’m right in saying we’ve mentioned briefly in passing in earlier missives, this is the we need secrets offering ’swimming pool’. very much swallow diving into shoe gazed waters and proudly wearing their my bloody valentine hearts on their astral speedos we must admit to being taken by ‘swimming pool’s uber chilled and reclining Ride-esque motifs being jettisoned into lovelorn tripping cosmic raptures before splintering in the death glow of a exploding star to go all wiry and hazy a la dinosaur jr. Expect more we need secrets loveliness soon as the band are currently nailing the finishing touches to new recordings due for Saint Marie action. http://www.saintmarierecords.bandcamp.com/track/swimming-pool
There’s a cocksure verve aligned to a knowing swagger and an acute snarl manifesting amid the grooves of the hotly tipped Blackpool based trio Darlia’s second outing ‘candyman‘, grilled upon grunge grooved grinds whose bloodline growls with a feral kinship to Nirvana yet whose smoked down melodic hooks cruise with Placebo like intent there’s much to nod sagely about here with positive admiration, yet what completes the attraction only comes by scratching deep down to the buried deep depths of the mix wherein echoes of Adam and the Ants ’kings of the wild frontier’ haunt. http://www.soundcloud.com/darlia/candyman
Keen observers of these musings will no doubt be familiar with the Manitou – better known to kith n kin as Joshua Blanc – notably through love poured upon his ‘electro magnetic’ and ‘the mechanicals’ visitations. Third in his series of two track single releases finds a sinister countenance afoot in both sound and subject matter for both ‘reactor four’ and ‘fukushima fifty’ centre on the nightmarish realities of nuclear meltdowns. Inspired by the Chernobyl fall out ’reactor four’ is steeled in a haunting dead still that aside being disquieting (with the appearance of the chilling Geiger clicks) is bleakly head bowed and signed in regret, the atmosphere suitable ice cold and bleached I a hollowed emptiness shimmers delicately into territories more commonly associated with Karl Bartos. Carved out in old school retro electro minimalism ‘fukushima fifty’ seductively pirouettes along the same sparse melodic leyline as that found populating a ’man machine’ era Kraftwerk universe albeit with it frosted exterior somewhat fused to the expansive hypno drills of tangerine dream. http://www.themanitou.bandcamp.com/album/reactor-four
Those of you loving your electronics spared in minimalism like it was 1979 and steered in a sinister off set funky iciness might want to stay with the Manitou a little while longer for the follow up to ‘reactor four’ – and by a quick head count the fourth in the singles series is entitled ‘Cathode Ray’. This un plugs directly into Human League Mk1’s sound space more specifically having us reaching for our copy of ’reproduction’ in order to sample the dark delights of ‘circus of death’.
I must admit that even after several plays I still can’t make my mind up which is my preferred side. Literally just landed on our doormat and proceeded to spend the day hogging the turntable. New from Aagoo is a colossal 12 inch set from Italo psych drone dudes Inutili. Aptly titled ’music to watch the clouds on a sunny day’ gathers together two hulking slabs of mind morphing hypno psych grooviness that clock in just shy of 40 minutes worth of sun scorched psychotropia. ‘fry your brain’ heads up the fringe parting twin set – really was there ever a title so perfectly descriptive of what was awaiting within – think of a stoned out, clearly chilled and less wired my cat is an alien studio boogying with an equally bonged and blissed out Mugstar sharing a Gnod moment wherein they amp everything up to the maximum and go on locked grooved odyssey traversing the very depths of the minds eye for what is a bliss kissed and smoking head tripping psych out voyage. By sharp contrast the flip cut sees them smoking other various varieties of recreational highs and getting low down and mellowed for the shit faced psych funk shakedown that is ‘drunk of colostra’ which in truth sounds as though its been in some kind of meditative coma since 1968 only just now coming to and after all these years still sounding ahead of the curve and more importantly appearing like some secret spaced out love child of Hendrix not least because half way through the blighter gets to cooking up a psychotropic stew that fractures and splinters into seriously out there territories. Guaranteed to fry your hi-fi.
Footnote – many thanks to Alec of Aagoo records who sent along kind words about the above menttion along with news that more inutili groove to come with plans afoot to release a split 7 inch with Wand.
You know how we occasionally like to ruin your listening pleasures by unearthing skewed grooves whose primary directive we’d like to think is to mess with your head and melt your hi-fi. Well frankly things don’t get as skewed, head messing and hi fi destructing than an ultra limited cassette emerging on limited issue from the Geweih Ritual Documents imprint. Just 80 of these babies from a label whose previous releases includes an equally limited Insect Ark outing who I’m certain in my belief in saying we’ve featured in previous despatches when dinosaurs roamed the earth and these missives came whittled in stoned slabs. Anyhow latest offering is from duo Hex Horizontal who by the tags appear to hail from Los Angeles and briefly describe themselves as experimental avant garde jazz no wavers which in truth is as good a starting descriptive point as any. Their 8 track ’influx I – plastique’ set – incidentally the first of four planned releases recorded live to 2 track in their burbank studio – certainly reveals an irrefutable admiration for all things Henry Cow and This Heat whilst simultaneously finding itself forging a hitherto kinship with the assembled noise niking masses of bands currently bearing the name Andy Pyne upon their credits – see Kellar, medicine and Duty, the black neck band of common loon et al. basically composed of the kind of sounds you’d associate with strangled guitars, misused effects pedals and an impishly deranged attitude in refusing to kowtow to any prescribed musical form, hex horizontal add a whole new context to the notion of freeform into the bargain frying the ears and minds of all who hear – obtuse, awkward and off radar, stuff like ‘dry heave vaccine’ ominously pitches its tent in the shit n shine camp while those much loving of their sounds fractured, dipped in acid and sounding like sonic nails scratching down the chalk board will do well to take up matters with the frankly caustic ‘stuck pig’ which worrying comes replete with as were riffage butchered to sound like shrieking pig cries. Elsewhere there’s the festering agit gouged head butt that is the shock treated ’don’t walk, run’ with its acutely angular math contortions while for us, best of the gathering is the macabre dream flashbacks visited upon by the disquieting appearance of ’invalid daydream’ clearly spooking us like nothing we’ve heard since the early days of moonwood and lee noble. http://www.geweihritual.bandcamp.com/album/influx-I-plastique
What say you to 30 minutes worth of dream drift loveliness. those of you fancying a little shut eye perchance of a spot of astral plane gliding might be well advised to don headphones, crank the volume full tilt and loose yourself in the milky ambi-contours of Spool. Released via big ear tapes and strictly limited in issue, like only 10 cassettes and 6 of them have been snapped up, Spool cyclonic suite may be just for you. alas no info on the authors though safe to say cut from the same kind of cloth that has adorned occasional releases passing out of the highly respected trensmat stable. ’pyramora’ is teased in mesmeric flotillas comprised of cosmic vapour trails and shimmering mind melts, beneath this and buried in the mix a celestial ceremonial siren opines beckoning you close, add to this the swirling glassy orbs and the demurring drone curvatures and the resulting effect is something that serves to put you into a deeply reclining trance toned peace. ’borealid’ makes up the collection and pretty much continues the voyage journeying ever deeper into the voids before gently returning home to wake and find yourself depressingly in the real world. Subscribers to the cassette release get a download code to retrieve a secret Spool track. http://www.bigeartapes.bandcamp.com/album/pyramora-borealid
I know I keep banging on about missing my regular goody bag packages of weirdness from the much missed Scotch Tapes imprint but here’s a little slice of disturbia that would have been prime groove for the label indelibly attuned to strange sounds from pop’s hidden inner core. Processing Room are duo Craig Wharton and Mark Robinson who according to the briefing notes have been collaborating together on and off since 1979 with ’landscape 3’ being their latest offering. Appealing to admirers of the insectoid collages crafted by Justin Wiggan in his many guises – most notably Roadside Picnic – and fellow aural landscaper Matt Bower in his Revenant Sea alter ego (Wizards Tell Lies will incidentally be tripping through these pages elsewhere very soon), best experienced from behind the sofa, with the lights on and in daylight, processing room cook up something deeply chilling and devoid of emotion. Drawn upon a minimalist palette of gloopy industrial textures, ominous drone swathes and alien pulsars, ’landscape 3’ portrays a post apocalyptic wasteland haunted by apparitions of days long lost, ghostly monastic chants and steeled and ravaged by a thick impenetrable macabre dread, approach with due care. http://www.processingroom.bandcamp.com/track/landscape-3
And I must thank James for getting in touch and turning our ears to his bands (Ak’Chamel) latest full length set ’pus ch’en’ (did I read right that there were 6 albums in all released last year) which is primed for fond words aplenty later in the week. An absolutely absorbing listening experience awaits with the trio utilising a wide spectrum of genre mutations to include Gregorian chants, haunting spirituals, chamber folk, far eastern incantations and more as to have you simply blown away with initial impressions drawing comparisons as broad and disparate as Preterite, Sand Snowman, Soriah, Volcano the Bear and most telling of all – the Residents. A purists witches brew. For now though a little visual delight to keep you going that captures a live rendition of ‘the giver of illness’ and revealing a more impish side to their persona.
Featured last missive out (Tales from the Attic – Volume XXIV note takers) Satellites latest release – incidentally titled the ’istedgede’ EP features ‘neon sun’ ripped from their ‘02’ full length from last year, this lot teeter upon a sonic plateau that veers seductively between imperial pop formations silvered in euphoria and numbing head bowed heartbreak with the aforementioned cut shimmered in the kind of driving effervescence usually found peppering the grooves of platters bearing the names Swimmer One, British Sea Power and Dark Captain Light Captain. Aside the video below there’s the additional treat of an intimately set live rendition of the hollowed and hymnal ‘this is all there is’ recorded at London’s Saint Saviour’s Church and featured on the limited bonus disc tucked inside vinyl and CD editions of ‘02’
<br /><a href=”http://www.muzu.tv/satellites/neon-sun-music-video/2156814/”>Satellites – Neon Sun</a> on <a href=”http://www.muzu.tv/”>MUZU.TV</a>.
Alas absolutely no information about this release or indeed its author, ‘early works Volume 1’ appears to feature archive recordings by a Hungarian experimentalist by the name of Doris A Schall. Two teasingly brief tracks feature on this digital release. Indelibly referencing the output of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop notably the kooky futuristic doodles of Delia Derbyshire, very much rooted and shimmered in a shimmering 60‘s analogue golden age aura ‘01’ is playfully decorated in spacey binary bubbles that chirp and chatter like a spaced gathering of a Clangers choir while ’02’ is very much inspired and playfully steeled upon an aural palette that takes the pioneering sound plates of Louis and Bebe Barron to craft a gorgeously retro collage no doubt pieced together in stop motion stylisings and stuck down using yards upon yards of sticky back plastic. Recommended for further investigation and those of you much admiring of Sub Rosa’s exhaustive multi volume ‘anthology of noise and electronic music’ collection. http://www.dorisaschall.bandcamp.com/album/early-works-volume-1
Again no information about this one, again another release stumbled upon during our briefly fruitful stroll through band camp world. A two track offering from Nicholas Fair entitled ‘little girl’ might well be all too brief a listening experience though in its finite just over 2 minute grooving is deliciously etched a faintly scribed Francophile beauty whose spectral wistfulness in dappled in autumnal hues and succulently dipped in Almond / Walker torch trimmed fancies with a side dusting of McAloon sketching all softly bathed in a 60’s seasoning. Over on the flip ’ours is’ secures our vote as the best of the brace not least because of its carefree almost lazy eyed head in the clouds casualness and the fact that it had us yearning to delve deep into our record stash to unearth lost treats by Gulliver and early career outings pressed up by the kitchenware imprint. http://www.gnosis-antiquaius.bandcamp.com/album/little-girl
Plenty of activity afoot in the active listener camp not least with the appearance of a handful of digital releases the first of which by White Candles had us bedevilled by the occasional swoon through repeat listens. A five track affair entitled ‘flowers for delia’ is awash in psychedelic carousels (‘astral projections’ – think Jarre meets John Baker) and hallucinogenic fairground fayre, steeped in yesterdays sound of 60’s psych pop children tomorrow albeit as though embarked upon progian odysseys of supersister proportions (‘tire-moi des mes reves’) and dimpled in the woozy TV spy themed dream dinked kookiness of Grainger and Astley as on the neo futuristic Broadcast lite ‘behold! the abstract eye’, we were occasioned to recall the surreal flights of fancy of giant paw and the murmurs of Irma of old but scratched upon repeat listens beneath the lysergic surface layers the mercurial haze of the ooberman swirls to the fore especially on the lysergic dream coat enchantment visited upon by the summer sighing ‘monolith’. for us though best of the quintet is by some distance ‘altar hexes’ given it arrives seasoned in loopy kooky Hammond serenades and smoked with a weird ear Floyd / Barrett hazy vibe. http://www.theactivelistener.bandcamp.com/album/white-candles-flowers-for-delia-al009
Early call for record store day patrons and something that ought by rights be at the top of most self respecting punters wants lists this April time is a by all accounts awesome sounding compilation being put out by the lefse imprint. ‘space projects’ takes its core remit from the raw sonic materials recorded by Voyagers 1 and 2, as the brief points out not sounds as such but electromagnetic fluctuations taken from the magnetosphere of the planets they passed with each celestial body formed of differing densities, masses and elements with the result that they emit a unique sonic signature. Pressed on both vinyl and CD and a highly collectable 7 inch box set ’space projects’ features a stellar cosmic cast headed up by Spiritualized Mississippi Space Program – or to you and me – er – Spiritualized – beach house, the antlers, youth lagoon, jesu, larry gus and many, many more…….here’s a sneak peak of that aforementioned Spiritualized groove entitled ‘always forgetting with you (the bridge song)’ all cosmically bubble wrapped in a dream drifting love note lullaby. Gem like. http://www.soundcloud.com/fatpossum/spiritualized-mississippi
The keen eyed among you will no doubt recall us issuing forth advance notices of an imminent set from Six Years via sharp attack courtesy of a preview of ‘imagination’. Six Years as you all should know by now is the side project of Rubicks duo Vanessa and Mark. Divorced of the dark dream dipped electronics of its older sibling, Six Years counter a more gritted sound flashed through in soft psych tonalities, teaser single ‘till then’ – due out next month – sees them burrowing ever deeper to channel an edgy and loosely paranoiac Serge and Brigitte mindset fractured in minimalism and cowed in an alluring country toned bruising that purrs seductively to freewheel into Morton Valence territories whilst simultaneously recalling the much missed Melys rephrasing as were dismissed Hefner songbooks. Their debut long playing platter ’rivers’ looms large in the distance.
Blessed with the slow purposeful smoulder and thoughtful splendour of the Clientele at their most demurred and captivating, ’the collector’s’ by Eastern Hollows found on the flip of their forthcoming debut single for the much loved Club AC30 is cut from the classicist cloth of great lost b-sides, rippled in opening riff sighs and surrendered in whispers, there’s a mellowing sun kissed haze haloing its slow drift dimpling as though a subdued clock strikes 13 where being counselled and cheered by the sympathetic hug of the Butterflies of Love. Immediate seduction guaranteed. Indeed we mentioned the Eastern Hollows just the last missive gone whereupon we found ourselves somewhat swooned by the Seattle based collectives opening brace of cuts from their forthcoming self titled full length which from that set shimmers into view the feel good effervescence of ’Summer’s Dead’ which by our reckoning is such a blue mood chasing treat that were they to bottle it up and sell it over the counter they’d have a money making second source of income, that said deliciously awash in chiming sunbursts and adored in lushly toned lysergic hazes you’d be forgiven for thinking you stumbled across a secret west coast lair where Will Bunnymen riffolas where opining to the demurred lilt of youthful Animal Collective dialects. http://www.clubac30.com
Clearly making an early bid in the album of the year stakes in our gaff – and yours I sincerely hope or else we‘ll visit upon your dwelling and pin your ears to it – is the Tapete released full length from Brace/Choir entitled ‘turning on your double’. mentioned in passing a short while back here when we previewed the bollock dropping twin set ’5 fingered leap’ and ’satisfier’ both incidentally featured on this 8 track colossus, the former a slowly uncoiling psych drone drilled hymnal mantra imbibing on the smoky hazes of Bardo Pond and mystically threaded through a shadowy 60’s sonic vortex carved out by Jefferson Airplane and Curved Air, the latter a skull crunching cosmic meltdown that disciples perched at the astral altar of the hookworms would do well to bliss out to. ’turning on your double’ is slyly seductive in its spellbinding purr, its becoming craft enabled by the collectives refusal to nail their colours to one generic mast. Here you trip across the gorgeously willowy and uber chilled recline of the exquisitely shimmered ‘enemy’s friend’ whose west coast lazy eyed hallucinogenia pouts and purrs like a sedate whose parentage owes to a cross matching of Schizo Fun Addict and Werewolves DNA. Itself proving to be no slouch in the ear candy stakes the arresting opining detail of ‘be let down’ sumptuously purrs to a hushed hollowing hue that recalls the slow to burn artistry of galaxie 500 albeit here rephrasing from a Neil Young songbook. Elsewhere the fringe flipping monochromatic mantra that is‘fallman’ is subtly subdued in a late 60’s slinky strut grooved smokiness the kind of which might just turn heads aplenty among the psyched out sound loving fraternity. If howling desert dry twang-a-rama be your bag then the cool as f*** ’Coil’ ought to see you filling your boots while simultaneously instilling a nagging desire to revisit your flaming stars and devastations grooves of yore which leaves the expansive progian master class ’1 is 2’ to draw matters to closure though not before taking you by the hand for an astral ride on Floydian ocean waves piloted by Porcupine Tree.
The first of two welcomed releases from the Greek based sound in silence imprint this one being a mini album by Caught in the Wake Forever (the other by absent without leave is primed to appear in the next missive). As with previous visitations this comes strictly limited to 200 hand numbered copies (ours for curious note takers being #161) all attractively packaged in hand stamped recycled cardboard envelopes replete with inserts. For the uninitiated like me, Caught in the Wake Forever is the musical nom de plume of Paisley based neo classicist composer Fraser McGowan who in recent memory has issued forth outings via such esteemed imprints as hibernate, audio gourmet, soft corridor and mini50 as well as occasionally shimmying up for collaborative musical mind melts with Yellow6, sheepdog and karina esp. ‘false haven’ is comprised of eight genteel blurry eyed suites that touch both the romance (as evidenced on the opening brace ‘I know I’ve suffered more than most’ and ‘a morning without decay’ – the former trimmed in Gnac like nocturnal flurries the latter traced to a softly yearned fragile demurring ache to sit between Antonymes and Satie) and the desolate (particularly the bruised wound licking ‘all that I try to console‘ tearfully trembled in a Vini Reilly detailing), all sweetly cured in intimacy and hitherto sensitively cradled in a porcelain stillness. there’s much here that touches base with the work of the aforementioned Yellow6 most notably the desiring ’castle semple loch’ temptingly teased in the slow seduction of 60’s noir pastorals tailored in shadow playing tapestry of Budd and Mancini – and incidentally the best moment of the set. Pushing it a close second the parting ‘this house is not the same’ sounds for all the world like a hurting heavyweight studio smooch between the Tindersticks and Arab Strap while as though freeze framing just a brief slice from fortdax’s elegantly disarming ’the cream inside your spine’ and magnifying the moment re-cutting and shaping it into a murmuring lullaby like lunar waltz
Those wanting more caught in the wake forever ear gear may be interested to hear that he has a collaborative release with crow versus crow available entitled ‘excommunicado’ – which comes strictly limited to just 50 copies and arrives in a tasty looking card envelope to include a 16 page mini art book, pressed rose petals and a negative – for further ordering info go to http://www.crowversuscrow.bandcamp.com/album/excommunicado
News reaches us of new sounds emerging from out of the secret lair of Cyan341. Incoming on the excellent Uncharted Audio imprint in a limited 200 only issue is a 4 track 12 inch. Fresh from his collaboration with Wil Bolton as Anzio Green, Mark Streatfield dons his cosmic suit for some nifty cosmically cooled nocturnal distraction. As said the set entitled ’coal train’ features four new trippy technoid treats and while we try to snaffle full downloads for future review it’s the parting shot ’space kitty’s theme’ that’s had us all a swoon cutting shapes aplenty across the listening space for what is a softly demurred 8 minute voyage that imagines a retro set lights dimmed frisky aural mind melt moment pitting together sound architect giants Vangelis and Moroder to eke out a seriously infectious and flighty space funked workout that nibbles mischievously across an 80’s sound signature palette to ooze sophistication and seduction in one trip wiring cosmopolitan grooved Italo disco cocktail shot . http://www.shop.unchartedaudio..com/album/coal-train
About to embark on a 30 date stateside tour wherein they’ll be taking in the SXSW get together and wrapping matters in New York opening for Bauhaus man David J in April no doubt sending the dream pop masses into swooning fits with a set awash with groove culled from their recent ‘thought and language’ set for neon sigh and I dare say a little of this. Released to coincide with the winter tour and incoming on moon sounds records a new spanking dead leaf echo 10 inch set entitled ‘true.deep.sleeper’ looks set to break heart and send sonic space cadets in rapture. Sent out as a herald the title cut is sumptuously ablaze as were in radiant sunburst shards emitting from a cosmic Catherine wheel, an effects pedal pushing celestially charged honey swallow diving on dream control transmitting adoring sonic love crushes for Chapterhouse and a ’Jack’ era Moose. Frankly need I say more. http://www.soundcloud.com/deadleafecho/true.deep.sleeper
Mentioned in dispatches a few missives ago when we had the pleasure of casting an ear upon ‘end of rock n’ roll’ which if I recall had us bestowing praise a plenty not least because it was the best thing never done by Beck that we’d heard since Simple Kids frankly awesome ’the road’ outing for Static Caravan. the Zzips return with a bag of new sounds, 4 by our reckoning – that is if our county uppy maths still works – all housed on an EP entitled ’expect the worst’. don’t take our word for it, try it yourself, in short a smoking cool groove out of it on moonshine and deliciously harnessed by a corkscrewing and lolloping slacker grind which if I didn’t know better I’d have said had been whittled out in a prairie hen house by an indie version of the travelling wilbury’s featuring pavement, beck, simple kid and 10 benson types. As to video – a scream – weird eyeball antics and bad dancing at bus stops and that imaginary thread through the lips – that takes me back though I used to additionally thread it threw the eyebrows – alas no Stan Laurel styled ear wiggling as well as the eyebrows – can do that to……
Just pulled this from a face book posting. If there’s one record you need in your life right now, its this. Seems that Island records where of the same mind for so impressed where they that they’ve graced its limited pressing with the classic pink labelling (see Drake, Martyn et al….). but the story doesn’t quite end there. For featured upon this release is Eliza Carthy invited to guest on fiddle, the duo incidentally going by the name the Rails are James and Kami, who James hasn’t worked with could be written on a stamp and still leave enough space for a shopping list while Kami is the daughter of Linda and Richard Thompson which makes her folk aristocracy. They’ve an album ‘fair warning’ being prepped for release though before that a single ‘Bonnie Portmore’ arriving in ultra limited quantities. With nods to the wainwrights, fairport, mellow candle and the yesteryear folk greats from pop’s rich pageantry whilst not forgetting to mention traced in the mellow and murmuring wood crafted aspect of the owl service and the rif mountain collective, the traditional song ’Bonnie Podmore’ is here faithfully re-woven and steeled simplistically in a timeless songcraft that echoes through the ages, all at once understated, genteel and above all else stripped of any indulgence to shine with a pure artistry.
Buoyed by a forthcoming outing on the esteemed Fruits de Mer imprint sometime next month (featuring treatments of Yes and Soft Machine sorties the latter of whom appear to be a guiding influence given that ‘large groups of men‘ is indelibly kissed in the Canterbury psych prog tailoring of Messrs Wyatt and Co) mentioned here to much fond fanfare last missive out we’ve now managed to nab a copy (by way of much thanks to Alan of the band) of Schnauser’s frankly head turning sonic dream coat that is ’where business meets fashion’. distressingly for us their fourth album which means before we’ve even started our record collection is weeping at the gaping space its made for ’kill all humans’, ’the sound of meat’ and ’the missing link’. comprising ten tracks you’d be forgiven in the belief that this lot had a means for wandering backwards, forwards and up side down through time dimensions – between you and me I’m suspecting colourised TV’s and electricity are new fangled oddities to them, ’where business meets fashion’ is the kind of peculiar pop platter that would have sent such sadly lost record counter readable ware as Ptolemaic Terrascope and Freakbeat into such flights of tripped out wordsmithery that the resulting ink fumes would send subscribing patrons on a hallucinogenic voyage. Been an absolute age since we had the pleasure of featuring an album that’s so enjoyably crooked, affectionate and infectious. Be warned this is immense, so steeped in English eccentricity and nodding to classic tunesmiths of yesteryear (ie Davies as on the Kinks inspired ’pigeons’) the musicality is unreal the breadth and depth of the aural spectrum utilised is quite frankly bewildering and a word to those planning to raid your local record emporium to lightening their load of the abundance of 60’s compilations currently around at present (not that we want to encourage you do them out of the custom – buy the brace/choir album instead) we suggest you hook up to this because quite frankly it is a 60’s sonic sweet shop far more rewarding than most of those ill cobbled together collections. Oh my – where to begin – everything on here is worthy of a mention – we‘ve tried hard to find a track we hate but have miserably failed, ‘showers of blood’ I guess is as good a place as any, it is after all the opening track, a cross wiring kaleidoscopic mod topped psych prog power popper that called to mind the effervescent mastery of Epicycle’s 2002 set ’swirl’ yet scratch a little deeper and amid the intricate angular riff hookery honeycombs of bliss kissed Todd Rundgren creativity breathlessly drifts from out of the grooves. ’walking stick and cat’ decorated in lysergic fairground waltzes veiled in macabre Victoriana and warping reverse loops is crookedly flavoured in Barrett styled strangeness while XTC’s alter ego the Dukes of the Stratosphear are instantly called to mind when the punchy ’good looking boy’ rears into ear space. Those of you whose radars are attuned and indeed in awe of Love might be well advised to fall headlong in the lush tonalities offered by ’vaguely disturbed’ while devotees of nu psych a la the type once upon a while cooked up by the Elephant 6 collective should see out the smoking sophisticat p’s and q’s observing ’dinner party’ best of the set though comes tucked near the full lengths fall with ’I would’ which swoons and admiring sighs aside is finitely cut from the rarefied tune tapestry of the mighty Left Banke leaving the parting and dare I say vintage Beach Boys a la ‘wild honey‘ like ‘westward ho‘ to pack you off with a skip in your step and a knowing buzz about you that you may well have just stumbled across four of the finest alchemists of peculiar psych prog pop.
Now this is very special and most unexpected, so taken with this on initial listens that what with Lent fast approaching we are considering giving up on sleep until Second Language’s PR people send out physical CD’s. debut release from Oliver Cherer, we say debut, we should qualify that in saying debut under his name as the more astute and attuned among you might well recognise him as former Static Caravan pupil Dollboy. Anyhow new album – titled ’Sir Ollife Leigh and other ghosts’ incoming on the aforementioned Second Language imprint – should arrest and seduce in equal measure those of you so keenly tuned into more traditionalist and ethereal folk climes. The press release comes packed with thesis like information which I suspect may well take as long to read as the actually albums playing time, there’s even track by track notations for lazy scribes, but the less we say about that the better, anyhow I know who you are. As said we’ve taken a little time out to sample a few cuts and as much as we are taken by the creaking ghostly spiritual that is the simply adorable ’millions’ which veers ever so close into the imagined terrains of a black heart procession cosying up to the Bad Seeds campfire setting it’s the opening cut ’the dead’ that had us all a swoon. Inspired by the film ’death in a nut’ which delved into the historical readings recording the legend of the ferryman, this cut features Riz Maslen on vocals with Mr Cherer playing a restored antique reed organ – the effect and the atmospherics are chillingly serene for from out of the thickening ghostly primordial mist emerges something steeped in deep in our psyche’s prehistory which reference wise nods ever so subtly to Nico’s disquieting ’frozen warning’.
Plenty of Alrealon Musique groove to mention in a second, not least a specially put together 5th anniversary compilation – more of which about in a second after we mention this killer slab of dark boogie from the much admired Black Saturn. Not entirely sure as to how you can nab this as your own, pulled from the ’spectrum ambient series’ which I’m assuming is an Alrealon related outlet, the gritty and grizzled ’spectrum (chaos in the snow)’ is a hulking slab of mooching stalker grind ominously bridled upon a grooving that recalls elements ’sour blaster’ set for the esteemed creeping bent records way back in the dawn of the mists of time, cosmically gouged rap phrasing wired up in a floaty austere noir scratched dubtronic haloing and rewoven to sound like a bad acid tripping Depth Charge, don’t know about you but I’m sold. http://www.soundcloud.com/blacksaturn/spectrum-chaos-in-the-snow-mix?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaignshare&utm_medium=twitter
Okay we might have to cover this over the course of a missive or two as we’ve just had reported sightings of a third instalment ready to drop for download love in a week or three. We refer of course to the Alrealon Musique imprint who this year celebrate 5 years of existence. Set up in 2008 by Philippe Gerber principally to provide a outlet for his solo musical output as John 3:16, the label has quickly come to be seen as a safe haven and crucial cornerstone on the industrial / dub / experimental / dark electronic and modern classicist scene these days boasting a closely engaged and supportive of each other tight knit community. For me personally, aside some of the finest records we’ve had the pleasure of hearing emerging through the imprint, most notably and without question perched at the top of the list being the Stockhaus-ian playground that is Rasplyn’s frankly jaw dropping ’14 black clouds’ which I urge all Glass, Nyman and Hermann devotees to clamp your ear gear around at the earliest opportunity – alrealon musique has always been thought upon around our gaff as sharing a melodic mindset with the much missed Scot imprint Benbacula or else a darker old school variant of the mighty Warp empire. ’frequencies of existence – 5 years of alrealon musique’ be its name, as said whittled down to – up to now – 3 easily digestible portions ’Part 1’ of which is a free download featuring 9 cuts from the labels enviable roster. The collection opens with John 3:16’s ‘I am the light of the world, the truth shall make you free’ mentioned in despatches previously, it combines regal majesty with forbearance, bleached in industrial motifs and swirling eddies of spectral echoes reaching back through the ages all kissed with a masterly dub drilling paired to a glorious dust ravaged Arabesque cyclone – formidable stuff. Hauntingly beautiful and formed from a melodic marriage that entwines the archaic noir chamber motifs of the criminally neglected preterite with what first sounds like the aching glacial cries of ex post facto is Rasplyn’s offering ‘circle round’ – yet hang fire for mid way through something of the dark cinematic romance of dead can dance begins to blossom and unfurl to captivate and entrance. Think I’m right in saying that we haven’t as yet encountered Cold Metal Future whose ’navigate between the stars’ begins ominously stilled before erupting into a busying and frantic headphonic subterranic smartie that jitters and jars like a dark hearted Wagon Christ. Fluid’s ’unjust’ finds itself obliterated on the Speak Onion mix amid a furious blizzard borne assault of frenetic blip gored glitch terror which ought to appeal to lovers of Atari Teenage Riot. Now I’m thinking that when confronted with a band calling themselves Omega Dub Experience your not expecting to have your ears lobes sandblasted off with some harsh species of death thrash punk – of course that’d be silly – by the same token neither would you expect to hear something so shitfaced you feel an urge to email them to found out exactly what their smoking. ’views from outer space’ is as you imagine from the title – a space walking zero gravity psych dub trip – sort of – for here there’s elements of jazz noodling, lounge lilts and an obvious spiritual connection to Sun Ra which in truth sounds ripe for those Frank Wobbly and Sons dudes not least because this sounds very much left of centre Casino Vs Japan groove. Another who’ve slipped our radar thus far are MaCu, they/he/she stump up ’quoted monologue’ – a weird ear drone ambient cutie presaged by ghostly apparitions and ever darkening atmospherics whose stillness chills to the very core. Ebinger -again another debuting listening experience – appear to have updated the whole sound art craft of the 60’s TV spy theme noir soundtrack with an ice hearted glitch minimalism that plugs distantly into the Orbital psyche. I think I’m right in saying that I’ve a download of this lots current full length to rescue from the cyber library which based on the evidence of this will be sooner than later. This features a guest appearance by John 3:16 and is titled ’digi blue’ by the Use – dislocated funky radiophonic scratchiness blowing in an exotic sea breeze is what you get for your trouble, cutely kooky psych trance perhaps a Balearic flashback, whatever the case this subdued beat bleached effervescent sound shower is quite unlike anything around in planet pop this minute. Last up for this first volume of the compilation – Laica who better known to kith n kin as Dave Fleet dubs up an already heavily sedated ’environs II’ for his ’dub mix’ – now if you thought the original mix was veering close into Autechre realms then this new stripped bare minimalist rephrasing is up so close and personal its shaking hands, that said spice the mix a tad with the subtle strains Detroit techno disciplines and you have a super chilled blighter that ought to turn on self respecting subscribers of old school Rednetic, Uncharted Audio and Smallfish imprints. Part 2 and 3 of the celebratory collection will be featured in the next missive. http://www.alrealonmusique.bandcamp.com/album/frequencies-of-existence-5-years-of-alrealon-musique-alrn038-part-1
Is that the depressing chime of a self service check out that we hear at the start before everything gets subdued and dragged to industrial depths, new thing arriving on Anti Ghost Moon Ray records soon sees the return of Gazelle Twin to terrorise turntables. A newly pressed album ’unflesh’ is currently under wraps and due for parole later in the year, for now though ’belly of the beast’ has been sent forth to scavenge. Featuring a guest appearance by Benge applying Moog mutations this sparsely minimalist slab of feral grind is laced in a bracing edginess and a teeth bearing primal gouging that combine to pour forth a pitched paranoiac ooze whose parentage can be traced back to Cobra Killer and a youthful Black Dice.
Video goes like this –
Incoming on the rednetic imprint and following in hot pursuit of the labels well received Anzio green second, the latest sonic tableau by Joseph Auer and Kris Derry, here operating under their Tokyo Isolation Chamber guise. Inspired by Tokyo’s principal river the Arakawa, the eleven piece suite ’on the banks of the Arakawa’ is a eulogy, perhaps rather more a tiny snapshot reflecting the differing moods borne out of the contrasts between the frantic hustle and bustle of daily commuter life (the woozily tranced toned locomotive lilt of ‘tethered’) and the at the peace neglect when the industrial warehouses of Koto rest to sleep (the ambling riff croon of the sparsely lined ‘forget eternity‘). As far as a starting reference marker we suggest you compare notes with the latter volumes of Enraptured’s immensely dream drifted ‘bedroom ambience’ series from a few years back. Featuring a select guest infantry that includes Clive Burns from lowriders deluxe and Kentro Togawa of hopeless local marching band both appearing on guitar duty, ’on the banks of Arakawa’ is bespoke in beautified riff chorals sweetly allured by star snoozed ambient swathes, an expansive meditative palette both fragile and yearning tripped with a statuesque poise and murmured in aural tributaries of porcelain delight. Dimpled in oriental motifs both classical (the ornately hypnotic ‘Zen Garden’) and modern, throughout there’s the genteel but irrefutable whisper of Ryuichi Sakamoto silkily smudged between the grooves, ‘silent hymn of the salary men’ in particular is sumptuously traced with the calming charm of yellow magic orchestra. Admirers of the lights dimmed sultry oceanic flurries oft crafted by the hand of Manual will undeniable encounter familiar ground on the demurring ’lights on the Arakawa’ while elsewhere there’s the soft slow seduction of the moon glowed nocturnally teased ‘Senkawa Night’ rubbing shoulders with the sweetly surrendered ‘variation in grey’ itself dreamily pepper corned in bowed flotillas to sound like some mystical ice thawed cosmic carnival whispered in dreaming sighs of idyllic far flung destinations. Which all said leave ‘neon dissidents’ to run out to the end grooving though not before leaving in its wake some deliciously dinked playful lunar lulled New Order-esque motifs.
Sneak peak of a forthcoming record store day treat from Static Caravan. Due to be pressed up on limited 10 inch slabs of wax in an edition of 500 the memory band are given the remix treatment by Ghost Box – more specifically Jim Jupp (and friends) in his Belbury Poly guise. Ah the belbury poly, a wee thing, littler than a borrower, climbs up on your shoulder and jumps in your ear wiring out radiophonic weird gear and lost wonky idents assembled from left over public service broadcasts and creepily bleak and oft kooky beard stroking OU progs once upon a time aired at strange hours on TV stations no one knew existed (tis blame that Tristram Cary bloke if I be you). And so aboard the good ship ’when I was on a horseback’ harnessed to a Summerisle mooring, the assembled congregation of 70’s B movie brit horror backing singers and Tunng sound-a-likes boarded the little pea green boat to set out for adventures afar (’paisley’ they cried while one amongst the brethren hopefully piped ’McDougall’s tobacco emporium’) and so off they went wherein they passed the secret lairs of the owl service and the tripadelic world of Discordia engaged in strange Orb like pageantry all the time snoozily see sawing upon pastoral waves weaved of medieval waltzes and woozy mayday skipping Gallic garlands. After all that I’m guessing anything less is going to be a disappointment, time for a lie down – oh the EP’s called ’further navigations’ airing as it happens here http://www.thequietus.com/articles/14593-the-memory-band-new-song
And staying with Static Caravan, loosely anyway, on the hush hush we’ve been told this lot are prepped for a release on the nations most eclectic imprint later in the year. Not even sure whether we are allowed to post these tracks but hey ho to late its done. I know its not the done thing but lets talk about the picture first on the sound cloud page which assuming they haven‘t changed it features a slightly weary and worrying looking pooch which we here had to double take because it looks a ringer for a cute hound we used to have back in the days of austerity, unemployment, conservative rule and Liverpool Football Club winning three league games on the trot (guess that year pop children) who used to relieve himself not with leg cocked up against a tree, the couch, your record collection or your favourite left leg but rather more skipped, hopped and cantered along on his hind legs making decorative swirly trails. I bet you feel a better person for knowing this. Anyhow back to the musical stuff, the Great Electric are a super group of sorts whose bulging ranks of three counts amongst its membership Rob Hyde of mum and dad fame, Darren Hayman ex Hefner and Pete Gofton one time J Xaverre. We here admit to being taken by ’music and colour’ from the four track set, a slinky slice of acutely dinked pop smartie kraut-ian kool that sumptuously snakes along a smoked and blissed out kosmiche trajectory occasionally piloted one time by the likes of eat lights become lights to imagine a star crossed voyage embarked upon by a gathering of Alphastone, latter career Spacemen 3 and Sunray types all aboard a La Dusseldorf star cruiser powered upon by a Slipstream dream logic. Does it for us.
Footnote – just noticed the sound link is private – so while we try and get permissions just talk amongst yourself a try to imagine in your how dandy the tune is.
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