Tales from the Attic
Revolutions of a 33 and 45 kind…..
This missive features sounds from….
Neil cowley trio, witching waves, sea stacks, vtcn radio, gary numan, mona and maria, you walk through walls, electric citizen, seahawks, boris, pj philipson, david douglas, muuy biien, tuna bunny, arrows of love, vacant lots, Thomas truax, arch garrison, uv, darlia, active listener, cremator, bordellos, petunia-liebling Mac pumpkin, the hare and the moon
Perhaps like me your not adverse to raising the odd eyebrow when press releases fly your way declaring descriptors such as compelling, brave and daring, its often journalistic code for ‘they’ve changed direction, headed up a cul de sac and frankly we’re clueless as to what the hell this is’. thus far the Neil Cowley Trio haven’t had cause to trouble our hi-fi until now that is. An imminent concert hall tour is scheduled – well we say imminent – September / October – but it’ll soon be here – wherein one suspects they’ll be heavily reliant on showcasing material from their forthcoming ‘touch and flee’ full length due this June via Naim Jazz. And rightly so if ‘kneel down’ is anything to judge by. Fragile and poised in elegance, its classicist clarity demands attention and while your standing there jaws agape the melodic framing, fleeting through the seasonal transitions of the winters dark to Autumnal grey to spring life light with its initial entry strangely having us recalling Tortoise shifting fast to fortdax, rushes joyously to the lush cantering arrest of a pastoral peppering to sweep you up in its beautified colourised cinematic wash. Quite exquisite if you ask me.
Discussed fondly in previous mutterings, here’s the video accompanying the latest single from Danish psych duo the Wands….
No sooner do we file away our cherished copy of Witching Waves frankly essential ‘concrete’ cassette then along comes more good time groove from the Soft Power imprint. In short fast becoming our most favourite label since the days of those legendary imprints Art Goes Pop and Marquis Cha Cha. This time of asking Livingston’s finest serve up the debuting recordings of Cruising. A buzz bombing critically cool underground supergroup of sorts featuring a cast of September Girls, Sea Pinks, Logikparty and Girls Names types joyously gathered to exact scab forming gouged grind for kicks. ‘you made me do that’ is a squalling skree skronked slab of sub 4 minute oblivion, feral and furious, blistered and bent out of shape, a toxic voodoo dolly razored in deadheaded Banshee-esque voidism with Partisans afterglows blurring the mix for added tension all bedded upon a spitting and snarling bargain basement lo-fi’d three chord riff rumble that sounds to these ears like a wired out Sonic Youth aping the Mummies. In brief a psyched out slice of post punk nihilism – comes curdled on a strictly limited cassette numbering 100.
Sadly not a lot of information about this. In fact lets be honest apart from the track titles and the name of the band there’s no information at all. It is of course gorgeous and liable to have you reaching for tissues and the sympathetic comfort of a supporting hug. New single by the Sea Stacks – just out – entitled ‘glassy eyed’ is a consuming slice of tenderly arranged melancholic pop, well we say pop but to us that cheapens the effect somewhat for it’s a grander thing than that, soured seductively in the wintry whisper of head bowing strings and primed in the kind of forlorn majesty that’s liable to hang heavy on your heart strings. Reference wise you’d have to track back to those early musical utterances of a ‘treeology’ era Shady Bard to unearth anything vaguely similar in terms of having the ability to stretch your emotional spectrum from the peaks of the tempestuous to the aching lows of crushing despair with no hiding place between. Flip side ‘father dealt’ comes sweetly hushed and steeled in the kind of church like reverence and softly stirred spectral glow you imagine being perfect recital fayre huddled around a snow flecked yuletide campfire. http://www.soundcloud.com/seastacks/sets/glassy-eyed-single
Caught us on the back foot did this, regret to say though that we’ve forgotten from where exactly that we stumbled over it. Seem to recall though – hopefully if memory serves me right that VTCN Radio are a French duo – VTCN incidentally is pronounced Vatican – well bugger me never knew that – there’s years of Law schooling consigned to the trash can. Anyway getting back on track ’Riddle Song’ is a quietly demurred Budd-esque hatchling shimmered in frost tipped garlands and down tempo pulsars which combine to give it a decidedly tastily sophisticated nocturnal mooring that smokes sensuously adrift on the star kissed vapour trails of Air albeit aligned to the shadowy noir of the neighbourhood here removed of the menace factor. http://www.soundcloud.com/vaticanradio/riddle-song-3
Set to play on this years Sonisphere main stage and the Alt Fest as well as confirming a special London show at the end of November where he’ll be appearing at the Hammersmith Eventim Apollo, Numan’s redemption, artistic realignment and critical acceptance continues apace having recently scored a top 20 billing in the album sales chart with ’Splinter’ (which given these days is a feat achieved by the selling of seven identical records within a similar postcode is not something to crack open the bunting and getting partying hard about- still it’s a far cry from the artistically bankrupt days of ‘machine and soul‘ whereby you couldn‘t give the blighters away especially to folk who made a trade in turning wax records into ashtrays – and something that we‘ve eyed is notable for its absence on spotify – artistic control eh) – his first such placing since ’Warriors’. Anyway getting slightly derailed here so back to matters in hand, new video for current single the prowling shadow glowed ‘I am dust’ finds Numan honing to an art form his new found post apocalyptic industrial trance grind groove – his finest in an long while unless I’m very much mistaken.
Mentioned this lot a little while back when we ran the critical ear over ’babyflowers’ whereupon we were much adored and transfixed by the wood crafted west coast florals swooning through our speakers. Now we really must get a copy of Mona and Maria’s album ’my sun’ for I fear we may spontaneous combust, the anxiety and urgency to do so now being upped considerably since being mesmerized by their current outing – the albums title track. Utterly enchanting, spellbinding and bewitching – now there’s three words you’ll rarely see parked together side by side, just over 4 minutes of dream drifting woozy kaleidoscopic floral psych folk pop steadily ascending to peak and mushroom into a sun showering bliss kissed euphoric rainbow which reference wise has a gathering of wendy and bonnie, stealing sheep and smoke fairies types huddled together catching a shade beneath a multi coloured umbrella.
New thing from Club AC30’s latest signings shoe gazing darlings you walk through walls. Lined up for July release as an as were exploratory sonic shuttle just ahead of their galactic main course debuting full length – incidentally due to impact earth orbit, ’gone in a day’ is your bona fide bliss kissed slab of swoon drifting dream pop, a sub three minute shade adorned star burning beauty shimmered in a classic feedback silvered chassis irresistibly ignited upon the vapour fumes left in the wake of an interstellar patrol happened upon by a Hut era Moose, Chapterhouse and Skywave…..
Was it not just a missive or two that we were singing the praises at the altar of Electric Citizen’s ‘burning in hell’ and sizing up their forthcoming debut full length for the easy rider imprint as being firmly stamped on the top of our must hear listening list. ’Sateen’ is of course primed for desire, damage and distraction this coming July though not before the heralding single ’light years beyond’ gives you a finite glimpse of the spell crafting to come. A crunching calling card invested in the kind of mutant beatnik blues growl rarely heard so finely exacted since the dark days of the early 70’s. headed up by a wired out Grace Slick like vocal courtesy of Laura and bolted down onto an electro shocked Sabbathian grind, here found bastardising and butchering Mountain grooves for fun, with the added kapow of Bolan sassiness being added to the potion for good measure, there’s more than enough heavily psychedelicised dosage here to have the most self respecting disciple of the rise above imprint giving their electric wizard records a rest for a while. Available on 7 inch slabs of wax via riding easy – the band will be touring stateside next month as guests of Fu Manchu. http://www.soundcloud.com/easyriderrecords/light-years-beyond/s-GWBL1
Early warning call for a full length from the Seahawks entitled ‘paradise freaks’ which gets a special preview this RSD14 when strictly limited pressings of it comes doused in bubblegum pink wax with bonus freebie 7 inch – after that it gets an official bog standard release a week or two later via ocean moon. Seahawks ought to be no strangers to these pages, first coming to our attention courtesy of a limited 7 inch picture disc via the ever loved Static Caravan imprint. Since them there have been cassettes, limited CD’s, guest mixes and all manner of weirdness. Built around the core nucleus of Pete Fowler and John Tye these days they’ve expanded their set up to include various Hot Chip-pers and Red Kens, new album ‘paradise freaks’ plays host to a gallery of guest vocalists including Tim Burgess, Maria Minerva, peaking lights’ Indra Dunis and Nick Nicely – it’s the Indra Dunis collaboration that’s been peeled off and sent ahead to attract admiring glances aplenty. Deploying all manner of woozy effects as you’d rightly expect from a track entitled ‘drifting’ the Seahawks set their psychedelic compass for sultry waters to float dreamily into the vapour waved transcendental caves of the mind upon florescent oceans of gloopy dub step mirages with Indra’s melting siren-esque coos evaporating into the opiated foggy sea mists. http://www.soundcloud.com/squonjax/drifting-feat-peaking-lights
Time to don tin hats and to getting nailing down everything you consider valuable for Boris are about to break cover with what even they consider to be their most formidable album to date. Due to cause record store frenzy on its release in June via Sargent House, ’noise’ promises to condense an array of musical styles and dialects from shoe gaze to sludge and crust to doomy psychedelia into one hulking 8 track master stroking opus. Ripped from that set the band are currently previewing ’quicksilver’ – a ferocious 7 minute slab of aural annihilation served up close and personal and straight in your face, a raging no holds barred assault gouged in apocalyptic rage and scored through with a head pummelling sonic charge ravaged by the furious head drilling of punitive and primitively feral riffage bringing with it in its wake what sounds like an end of days last stand. Brutal stuff. http://www.soundcloud.com/sargent-house-boris-quicksilver
A very brief mention for this, a full review should appear in a missive or two – sometime next week unless I‘m very much mistaken. Many thanks incidentally to Davis for sending over advance downloads. Third release from the Little Crackd Rabbits imprint (who you might recall us mentioning in passing a wee while back) is a twelve track collection from P J Philipson entitled ‘peaks’. Many might recognise the name for Mr Philipson is more familiarly known to admirers and fans alike of Starless and Bible Black and the Woodbine and Ivy Band the latter of whom you may remember us falling over ourselves in adoration for their limited split outing with Sproatly Smith for Static Caravan a little while back. ‘orgone at magpie mine’ is the parting suite for ‘peaks’ – cradled in a cavernous glacial sculpturing much reminiscent of a youthful Mr Atwood or more pertinently David A Jaycock, this atmospheric honey comes framed in parched reverbs and ghostly echoes, its glassy ambient textures stilled in a deathly aura exact a sense of distance and detachment, yet scratch a little deeper and the subtle tonalities of an Italo psychological horror soundtrack penned by Goblin emerge into ominous view. Essential. http://www.littlecrackdrabbit.co.uk
Second single from David Douglas’ forthcoming ‘moon observations’ set – itself basking in the promise of a lucid cut of analogue grooves, catchy chords, dub slaps and moog tone bass lines – available soon on Atomnation. Entitled ‘selene’ – this could well be the first single of summer, a sun enticing jamboree rippled in lushly sultry laid back south seas exotica all blessed with super chilled tonalities, trippy mirages and slick showers of feint inducing fattened bass grooves that frankly sounds like the Clangers on a Balearic retreat.
bugger me – swear we’ve mentioned this lot in passing but can we find a relevant citation – can we bugger as like – cool grooves coming by way of the much loved and dare I say happily recently reacquainted Happy Happy Birthday to Me imprint. First up Muuy Biien whose full length ‘DYI (do yourself in)’ is by our reckoning set to crack heads and put a fair few noses out of joint and will be getting closer inspection in the forthcoming days here. For now though they are currently previewing the bollock dropping ‘she bursts’ from that set, a potent dash of post new wave punkoid aural action painting that takes its initial cue from the Modern Lovers wired out ‘she’s cracked’ then jams it in to the mains box at the core of Magazine’s fried psyche only to fracture it in the kind of up and about you in an instant acutely infectious and angular sonic pedigree that blessed rare outings by the likes of the Scars, the Sinatras and the Fire Engines – so rash forming it ought to come pre packed with jabs. http://www.soundcloud.com/crashingthrough/muuy-biien-she-bursts-reprise
Again due for listening love in the coming days will be the latest Tunabunny full length ‘kingdom technology’ which had I not known any better I would have hazarded a guess had been a previously unreleased gem from the late 70’s recently unearthed and declared a bona fide lost nugget insightfully foretelling of minimalist no wave chills to come. ‘different jobs’ from that set is awash in a myriad of interlocking motifs sewn together from dislocated and disparate dialects, subtle trace elements of immersed psych are flashed through a primitive blender assembled with the variously gathered parts of Au Pairs, Delta 5, And the Native Hipsters and the Raincoats types into a curiously de poppified mixture etched through with playground posies aligned to a distracting part surreal, part woozy daydreaming Dadaist detailing – in a word – essential. http://www.soundcloud.com/crashingthrough/tunabunny-different-jobs
In an former life Arrows of Love where once in embryonic form Hush the Many (Heed the Few), a youthful collective shimmered in a rare exquisite detailing of Drake-esque demur, in their brief time and small though selective back catalogue hinted a craft, a tenderness and a genius that put their peers to shade. None more so was this ever best evidenced than by the track ’storyend’, first heard when I had the great privilege to witness them recording live at the legendary Maida Vale studios, I swear we wept at its beauty. A studio version eventually saw the light of day though one felt it lacked the spectral mystique of that nights performance. Still – one of – if not – the finest songs we heard in the 00’s. And so to Arrows of Love of whom we’ve sort of been formerly introduced though never fully engaged – such happenings duly recorded in missives long since past and forgotten. And whole different animal from their former Hush incarnation, between then and now- line up changes aplenty, styles adopted, mutated and spat out in the long and endless search to be comfortable in their own sonic skin. And so it was a welcome surprise that we received a email declaring new AoL grooves. A debut album entitled ’everything’s fucked’ is straining at the leash, due date May via 1234.before that though – a new single entitled ’suck’ – a three minute squalling shrapnel spewed baby rewired to an edgy skull fucked feral and toxic version of the Pixies that you secretly always dreamed of, jarring riffs and jabbing signatures insistently punctuate away dragging you back for another smack , its crude, its callous, it’s the dog danders I’m afraid. http://www.soundcloud.com/arrows-of-love-suck
Ready for some head swirling fringe parting kaleidoscopic bubblegum pop, it don’t get any better than ’Mad Mary Jones’ the first single to be lifted from the Vacant Lots forthcoming debut full length ’departure’ due to colour minds this coming June fall via those cosmic cadets Sonic Cathedral. Mastered and mixed by space pilot Sonic Boom. Very much aligning in formation to Boom’s on / off alter ego Spectrum, this babe is a mind altering 60’s shimmered UFO head trip of acid fried motorik spacey surfadelics hooked upon a sassy hip hugging strut all trimmed in key drenched bliss waves, requiring of the donning of 4th dimension seeing visors – need I say more.
Uber cool live version ‘always been a dreamer’ by the eclectic Thomas Truax the original studio version incidentally can be found loitering on his current long playing set ‘trolls, girls and lullabies’ which I must admit has been peppering our listening space a tad bit since arriving in the gaff a few days ago. This version comes pulled from theater Dortmund’s production of ‘peer gynt’ – a prowling bad boy mooching darkly carrying with it the spectres of Carl Perkins and Vince Taylor here gathered and supping heavily at the last chance saloon to craft a superbly hollowed slab of howling head fallen primal blues which for the heads among you sounds not unlike the mighty Flaming Stars in some brooding and surreal Lynchian dreamscape.
A collective featuring the gathered talents of North Sea Orchestra’s Craig Fortnam and stars in battledress and occasional North Sea Orchestra fellow James Larcombe, Arch Garrison are set to step out with their second collection of gracefully beguiling intimacy entitled ‘I will be a pilgrim’. inspired by its surroundings and setting – the chalk downs of Sothern England – Fortnam and Larcombe whittle out through old song a deliriously breezy and bounteous treasure trove liltingly indebted and cradled in the richly brewed essences of a time, a season,, a moment long since past that airily documents and pays homage to a lost memory, a lost heritage of both the countryside and history of the land. Within this demurring delicacy sit eleven village fayre sprays all succulently powdered in pastoral aromas and indelibly crafted in an English eccentricity and longingly immersed in rustic folk hues (’Vamp 2’) flavoured and twinkled softly in baroque cultures and the vague weave of strange psych folk dialects. Reference wise amid its vivid colourfully trimmed tapestry its clear that the chief marker here is that of Robert Wyatt – there’s a softness, a care freeness and a thoughtfully willowy simplicity that irrefutably strikes a chord with the former Soft Machine-r as on the snoozing afterglow found on the homely hued ‘the oldest road‘. Equally gracing the grooves is the more than recognisable distant echo of Love flickering and disappearing amid the artistry as does the dream weaving rustic flurries of XTC (especially on the softly sun speckled idle some gem ‘everything all‘ as it sumptuously cascades to a prettified melodica that dances daintily to a baroque tableau that cosy toes to Syd Barrett)- while those with an admiring fondness for the likes of Lux Harmonium, Lupen Crook and the Oddfellows Casino (non more so is this the case than on ‘other people’ whose unworldly tonalities and erstwhile mystique could have easily fallen off the edges of ‘yellow bellied wonderland’) will easily find much here to cause a swoon or the oft occasional skip of a heartbeat. Beautifully pastoral, ’I will be a pilgrim’ never strays far from the mercurial setting instrumentals such as ’Vamp 1’ shimmer into those rare exquisitely toned environs inhabited by David A Jaycock not least his debuting set for early winter recordings ’the improvised killing of Dr Faustus and other mythologies’. From the moment the opening ‘where the green lane runs’ veers into view your instantly mesmerised by the clock working crystalline motifs, much like a playful (aforementioned) Lupen Crook its fragile and frail coda coos tenderly to a woodcut Elizabethan like magicalia, the effect is repeated again on ‘bubble’. Somewhere else the canterbury folk eloquence of the title track is traced upon a village skipping rural fayre dutifully daubed in a flighty airiness that sprightly tumbles, rolls and lollops across a pastoral patchwork. For us personally the collections best moment comes with the arrival of ‘o sweet tomorrow’ as it chisels out a gorgeously disarming poppet that tweaks subtle lounge trimmings, lazy eyed sunsets and rich golden rustic harvests to arrest in equal measure to a melodic murmur sighed in a ‘white sky’ era Archer Prewitt glow and the warm intoxicant flare of a Van Dyke Parks obsessed Ashley Park. All said a rare and rewarding beauty. Available via the household mark imprint.
Alas it seems we missed Manchester duo UV’s debuting release ‘receiver’ news of which I must admit has been causing a fair amount of consternation and much grumbling here not least since having sampled the delights of their forthcoming outing ’Cuts’. due for limited engagement on RSD14 wherein both tracks will come bundled up on a cassette, the release is being prepped as laying down the sonic template for an EP to come. Buoyed by the quiet acclaim received thus far, acclaim it should be said that has had them favourably compared to the Cocteau Twins and Massive Attack, the duo draws together the collected talents of Zandra Klievens and Jonjo Feather – the latter of whom I’m certain has at one time or another appeared in these very pages with something I seriously suspect was released on dead young records a few years back. As to ’cuts’ – what can I say – immensely grand dark glamour, all at once mysterious, beautifully macabre and eerily enchanting emerging as were from out of some ethereal ghost light bathed in a stilled shadow lined elegance that’s pursed together by a gloaming cinematic etching of pulsar beats, minimalist electronics spared in down tempo nuances, haunting lullaby motifs and a noir framing all set of seductively by the ghostly siren-esque tones of Zandra, a bit like Broadcast rewiring ’rosemary’s baby’ amid a backdrop of Numan-esque fragmenting wastelands if you must.
Free down load here…. http://www.uvband.com/cuts/
Mentioned this un a few missives ago when comment was passed about how its (‘Candyman’) swaggering strut cool had us fondly imagining some guilty pleasure sharing admission by Nirvana and Placebo types about Adam and the Ants ’kings of the wild frontier’. well we’ve now got full on sound links for the whole set – the single due for release 14/4 on the ever wonderful though disappointingly rarely heard or seen these days B-Unique imprint. Two nuggets attach themselves to the flip side in the form of ‘animal kingdom’ and ‘blood money’ – and while the former shimmies along to your standardised indie strum twang affair aglow in tenacious hooks aplenty it’s the latter gem that’s the game changer. like an itch you can’t scratch this panic attacking slab of hysteria fracturing goo is all over you in an instant with an armoury of brooding to blistering rapid riff fire gear changes rippled in tension wrapped arpeggios and simmering and dirty kiss curling rock-a-boogie grind – in short the best of the pack. Oh and before we forget to say – its by Darlia.
We’ve prepped this for closer inspection in a forthcoming missive. Perhaps the best yet in the ongoing active listener sampler series, edition #18 is an exhaustive gathering of psyche, bubblegum, weird folk, ethereal groove and cosmic cuteness that presses together a formidable 22 strong track list – among the invited roll call cuts from Schizo Fun Addict, Sand Snowmen, Earthling Society, Oliver Cherer and Octopus Syng slug it out with some of the finest alchemists of strange pop currently navigating the underground sonic networks. As said we’ll be revisiting this in the very near future though not before drawing to your listening experience ’clear air turbulence’ by Cremator. An eight and a half minute cosmic gigantor which steers along a flight path not so dissimilar to that of Craig Padilla and in so doing choosing – or so it would first appear – to revisit abandoned astral analogue satellites the type of which paid temporary home at one or another to tangerine dream as they journeyed the intergalactic voids on their pioneering missions. But immerse yourself into its gaseous folds and its not so much the Tangerine ones being retraced but the core matrix of the blade runner soundtrack here as though re-phrased into a mind melting mosaic by those Goblin types with the assistance of their acolytes Zombi into a sci-fonic head trip. Alas no other information except to say there appears to be an album entitled ‘clear air turbulence’ doing the rounds – which may or may not be out via Series Aphonos which we’ll look into – that said while you’re here you might be best advised to twiddle your courser in the general direction of http://www.soundcloud.com/series-aphonos/cremator-ringmaster wherein you’ll be treated to the darkly brooding ‘ringmaster’ which again is awash in old school retro-electronics and is here ominously bedded upon the claustrophobic hidden terror-phonics of Carpenter’s ’assault on precinct 13’ wrapped in the vice like choking grip of Brad Fiedel’s ’the terminator’.
Many thanks to Brian of the Bordellos for sending over what is hoped will be at some point a new Julian Cope tribute EP entitled ‘spinning like Julian‘. Described by the authors as bonkers which I guess is befitting for something Cope addled the set features four cuts some covers some originals that peer into the weird and fractured psyche of pops fried freak head. Now this being the Bordellos, themselves as unpredictably unstable though nevertheless finitely equipped and informed in the vagaries of wired and weird sounds, you are immediately served warning as to something strange brewing in the mix. As ever just to be awkward we start with the parting track ’the teardrop exploded’ a crooked curio combined of snake winding grazes of lolloping banjos pepper corned by wayward parps from mischievous penny whistles and snoozing lazy eyed motifs who gather together in conspiratorist huddles to eke out a strangely becoming ragamuffin of a transcendental tabla whose fried viewfinder imagines stoned out surrealist afternoons squatting illegally in the grounds of Rawlinson’s End. Initially appearing on Cope’s ’peggy suicide’ set – perhaps one of his finest moments – edged with a reflective tenderness its here slyly murmured intimately in a sleepy headed styling not unlike that you’d imagine Death Cab for Cutie eloquently furnishing. ’spinning like Julian Cope’ with its irregular head tunes directly into the dark fractured heart of ’interpreter’ for a detuned and freaked 2 minute big haired and bigger bearded lo-fi head-trip that aside fraying around the edges as it pays its respect and its undying love for the Druid dude manages along the way to trip wire into territories once previously occupied by the likes of god is my co pilot and Southall riot. However all said an done it’s their re-drill of the Teardrops ’sleeping gas’ that had us frankly fainting, a fine line between bravery and foolishness is walked upon, the original pretty much perfect, happy to say the Bordellos air on the side of the former in keeping to the originals minimalist lo-fi tonalities and trance like states and along the way cheekily stamping their own persona upon proceedings by donning shades and going all lysergic and psychey on its arse. File under drop dead cool weird ear pop.
I’ll be completely honest in saying that I’ve absolutely no idea what’s happening here, we’ve checked our tobacco for signs enhanced chemical derivatives and suspect that we may have fallen into a light sleep only to awake amid some freakish and surreal nether reality. Latest video from the clearly kooky Petunia-Liebling MacPumpkin of which were fairly certain isn’t the name on her birth certificate is as bizarre a thing as you can get without the partaking of recreational substance intake. Hoodwinked from her electric phantom records released ’fish drive Edsels’ full length, ’green glow’ is the kind of delightfully dinked nonsense pop we’ve come to love and expect from the Bearsuit imprint, with sepia teased warping lullabies and a wonky and fracturing dream like turn of melodic phrasing there’s a child like macabre flickering amid this slice of abstract artfulness, a kind of stoned out ’Wizard of Oz’ in a kaleidoscopic shimmering. Very odd , very far out and quite possibly very disturbed – of course we need to hear more and I‘m suspecting we will.
Beautifully haunting. Another brief visitation to our listening space courtesy of this wood crafted witching hour ju-ju from the Hare and the Moon. Mentioned in despatches previously the Hare and the Moon occupy a twilight configuration wherein the surreal, the supernatural and the stuff of folk legend exist in a shadowy half light just out of clear focus of the eye. As previously reported ’the grey malkin’ is now available for sonic séance via the eclectic reverb worship imprint and while we try to nail sound links for review hopefully in the very near future we’d just like to share this brit folk horror beauty which we stumbled upon. Entitled ‘o death’ – this ought to appeal in the first instance to all those who adore their sounds trimmed in a timeless tapestry, a tapestry invested with ingredients drawn from Dead Can Dance, Men an Tol, Preterite and the ‘witch finder general’ soundtrack. Calling as were the very elements and atmosphere of nature itself the hollowed and spectral ice forged ‘o death’ shivers solemnly, a ghostly mist murmured mirage recanting a futile plea to death to step aside studded in a near deathly silent timbre. Quite perfect.
And we’ll wrap up matters to leave you with this. From his recent ’Splinter’ set, in fact the parting cut as it happens – ’my last day’. now I’d like to think I know my Numans from my Tubeways and even when weighed up against ‘are friends electric’, ‘cars’, ’replicas’ and ’a prayer for the unborn’ – (no doubt fistfights will start here) which stand up as four of the best things scored by Numan – this is frankly in a different league and immense with it. Epic, grand and vulnerably humbling, it’s a master class of emotional opposites clashing as one, just listen to the moment the brass fanfares come in – you will mark my words think ’f***’.
for Kelly and Mark – though out of sight, you never left my thoughts…x
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