I promise, we will be back onto this later this week / weekend. Literally just dropped through our letter box, the latest, and from what we’ve heard thus far, the finest gathering of strange sounds from the A Year in the Country folk. Not sure when it’s out for certain, we’ve momentarily lost the accompanying press release, but safe to say that ‘All the Merry Year Round’ will set the proverbial cat amongst the pigeons, and have even the most casual fence sitting observer falling off their perch with wowing affection. As ever, this latest research finding, features contributions from all the usual AYitC community – see polypores, time attendant, pulselovers, sproatly smith et al, however, on this very brief visit we must admit an alarming love for the Hare and the Moon’s collaboration with Jo Lepine. ‘I’ll bid my heart be still’ is the formidable bench mark that the rest must seek to match, blessed with a church like serene, both reverent and majestic, a stilled grandeur forms from the spectral touching, a magical occurrence intimately brushed and in tune with the coming dark season, a ghostly ceremonial séance reaching deep through the ages instilling all in enchantment and beautified bewitchment. http://ayearinthecountry.co.uk/
This came recommended to us by Cyprianus Augustus, who aside sending us a rather lovely note that had us much humbled also oversees the impeccable taste making the unquiet meadow mix cloud soirees. Trust me on this, stay with it and I guarantee it’ll feel by its close as though you’ve been sucked inside your own headspace and embarked on a mystical astral ride around the deepest reaches of the minds inner consciousness. From out of the Nawa imprint shortly, well November if you want precise, this is the opening track from Nadah El Shazly’s debut full length ‘Ahwar’, it be called ‘Afqid Adh-Dhakira (I Lose Memory)’. Blending shape shifting spirituals, woozed out bowed instrumentations and a general all-around bewitching freakiness, what emerges from the hazily haloed Arabic-edelic chamber fog is a most tripping cornucopia of fried delights, whose irregular arrangements shift like sand beneath you constantly having you desperate to find a footing. Out of the shadowy wood smoked dream daze, a sultry siren calling apparition weaves a snaking seduction infused by strangely dissipating jazz mosaics, a little noir noodling and oodles of seriously bonged out mystic murmuring. Stunning in a word. https://soundcloud.com/nawarecordings/01-afqid-adh-dhakira-i-lose
Fast approaching their landmark 100th release, the impeccably eclectic Finders Keepers have seen fit to invite a select number of folk to rummage around their jealously well-guarded vaults to cobble together some well-heeled mix tapes. The first golden ticket claimant being Demdike Stare’s Sean Canty who summarily finds himself locked in a dark place and refused safe passage out until he has returned forthwith with a list of sonic objects of desire, these being meticulously prepared into the strange sonic sack that is ‘Probes’. From that selection we’ve been most beguiled by the eerily weaved supernaturalia forming a ghostly web via ‘occultismo’ by Daniella Casa, a beautifully macabre spell crafting formed from chilling choruses. Elsewhere Eric Feremans classic soundtrack ‘the Antwerp killer’ is given a deserved airing, ‘prosecution’ finding itself cut in a mind fracturing isolationist paranoia, darkly insular shadowy ambience light years ahead of the coming trance / technoid experimentalists of the 90’s, while somewhere else, in truth quite frankly, we could listen to Suzanne Ciani forever, here in her more playful gloopiness for the impishly kookily snoozing ‘help, help, the globolinks’. While last for this brief mention, dare we omit to mention the clearly irregular and delightfully off their chops Gerry and the Holograms at perhaps their most immediate pop curious sounding with ‘increased resistance’, why then do I hear the distant call of Clinic infiltrating its groove space, answers on a postcard to the usual place, clearly marking entries ‘intriguing’. https://finderskeepersrecords.bandcamp.com/album/probes-volume-one
We raided this from Mr Outram’s Facebook page, in truth we were checking to see if there was any sign of new horror pop sounds happenings looming, or worse still, had been out and we’d missed. It has after all been a while and well, our sound system is, I suspect, opining with neglect. But back to the nub of things, spotted this, like wow, almost surprised that say, Polytechnic Youth or Castles in Space and other such, aren’t about it like a rash. To say it’s like awakening from a short doze to find yourself back in the 70’s is an understatement. We refer of course to ‘L’âge d’or’ the opening track from a set by Yan Hart-Lemonnier entitled ‘Souvenirs de l’âge d’or’ which is getting a strictly limited vinyl pressing of just 200. Now this is quite something else, an echo from a lost decade, the vintage exquisite, the tailoring simply sublime arriving toned in a celestial chic, an oceanic lunar lost in beautiful isolation emitting love note transmissions into the galactic voids, arresting doesn’t do it justice. Equally drawing design on our affections, what we assume is the parting cut on the vinyl variant, ‘Un nouvel amour’ has the kind of playful snooziness that often adored the grooves of platters bearing the quality sound kite mark of Plone albeit here as though retweaked by a rather chirpy Minotaur Shock and a host of folk from the esteemed Bearsuit records sound shed. https://yanhartlemonnier.bandcamp.com/album/souvenirs-de-l-ge-dor
okay, by now you’ve probably gathered we’re having a stolen body record party at the moment, either that or they’ve held us hostage with pistol pointing to head. Anyhow before I start giving folk ideas, here’s a little something from Edward Penfold called ‘Betsy’s Linen’ from a near future happening by the name ‘Denny Isle Drive’. Hell’s teeth, doesn’t this just sound like a ringer for Syd Barrett, everything about it, the lazily foggy inclines, the soft psych phrasings and that strangely oddball wooziness and drifting casualness all cut with an elegant off centred eccentrica. This lackadaisical nugget sleepily weaves its strange entrancement all time drawing elements of both Oddfellows Casino and Nick Drake to its blurrily becoming bow.
absolutely no information about this, which on reflection might or then, might not be, a good thing. In the absence then of such press wordy fancifulness, we tripped upon this unguarded with no persuasive nudges, hopefully you’ll do the same, because this is seriously whacked out. A nifty slice of smoking and suave 50’s styled bubblegroove, see the Platters, the Four seasons et al that sounds as though it’s been reclining a little too long beneath the shade of a tropical tree and gotten all warpy and woozy in sun, seriously trippy as though a gathering of Superimposers and Monsterism Island folk had sonically spiked their fruit punch. It’s by Dubi Dolczek, it’s called ‘Laser Dojo’, it’s from an album through stolen body aptly called ‘dubi in space – part one – the emerald gauntlet’.