Russian Circles - Empros

I love burgers, and I hate mediocrity. As a musical equivalent that meets these standards, this band is tops. I wrote a review , my last before my second son Arrow was born.

You know what you’re getting when you order a Russian Circle burger. High quality, grass-fed meat, home made bread, locally sourced ingredients and perhaps a special ingredient you didn’t expect make listening a high quality experience. A nutritious rock experience high in zinc and iron and low in saturated fat. The band concocts its jams with a degree of unpredictability (perhaps a pineapple ring? blue cheese curds? blackberry porter marinade?) but the satisfaction in listening comes via amazing chops and mature song writing. Considering how many changes that occur within each song, Russian Circles are very good at pacing their material.

Empros starts strong, gets a little weird and a bit more brutal, and at the back end gets pretty. The confusion in properly orchestrating an album of mega prog metal has left the band. Empros succeeds in that it all sounds like one song; each begets the next naturally, which wasn’t always the case with previous records. The wide open expanse of “Batu” hits like the cool of tsaziki but it doesn’t distract from the strong palette of caribou and barbecue sauce established by total brain smashers like “309 and “Schiphol”.

Simon Scott - Bunny

This album is awesome. Read my well scribed review here. Or this snippet:

As in common in Scott's solo work, each song can be extracted and enjoyed out of context. This seems to be uncommon in ambient music, but the effect here is that Scott’s experimental sound collages come across as songs instead of soundscapes. This gives the album a discernable direction and arc. Instead of being buried in the ether, the songs are the ether - crackling, growing crystals, gasping for air. The textures that form are dynamic and moody, their origins mostly stemming from real instruments like guitar and piano.
Simon Scott - Bunny by miasmah

Incredible Musical Prodigy

The Drift - Blue Hour

Late trumpet player and electronics maestro Jeff Jacobs implored his band mates to continue making music should he lose his fight with cancer, and that is what this San Francisco-based trio have done with their seventh release. Blue Hour is a classic example of how not just to keep pressing on, but to triumph despite the sadness. The album begins with a couple of the most muscular tracks ever heard from The Drift, as if to say that the first reaction to a close friend's death is to plow ahead, faking a sense of confidence. These uncharacteristic tracks make sense when they give way to a more familiar meditative journey. “The Skull Hand Smiles - May You Fare Well” is paced with piano and rhythmic textures before the guitar helps the song coalesce. It is incredible how much space and storytelling Danny Paul Grody can do with just one guitar. Within the layerings of “Luminous Friend” one can almost hear Jacobs’ trumpet. The patience and bardo-like cadence of closing piece “Fountain” demonstrates that these are special musicians, capable of weaving powerful passages of emotionally dynamic rock even in a state of vulnerability. This graceful record may not top the year end lists, but it’s a potent reflection of one of life’s most difficult truths.
Listen: The Drift - Horizon

Hidden Orchestra - Flight EP

An EP with one new song and four remixes? Sounds like a game plan for established fans only, but Edinburgh-based Hidden Orchestra hits it out of the park by opening with the spectacular "Flight". It's a song one can't help but play again and again. The synth-infused drama unfolds with a delicate thrumming bass-line provided by a cello and melodies handled by clàrsach (a small Scottish harp), saxophone, and a melifluously recorded clarinet. Castanets, twinkling chimes and shuffling electro percussion take the song to an exotic next level, making it completely natural for the remixed tracks from Night Walks to shine. And they do. The band's clarinetist Tomáš Dvořák doubles as Floex, whose remix of "Dust" is as fresh as shaved nutmeg on a frosted evening. The Colonel's take on "The Windfall" feels a bit redundant after Maddslinky's remix of the same track, but each has a very different style that they sort of blend into one longer piece. Each of the remixers has a clear understanding of Hidden Orchestra's groove and strengths, honoring the original tunes with a grace not often heard with this type of release. Not a dull moment to be found.

Hidden Orchestra - Flight EP by Tru Thoughts

Raw Landscapes.

Enrique Pacheco's "Raw Landscapes" is anything but raw ~ it's a smooth and beautiful travelogue of Iceland's most picturesque locations. Max Richter's music provides the exciting background.

~Richard Allen, The Silent Ballet

Thanks for directing me to this video, Richard!

Raw Lightscapes from Enrique Pacheco on Vimeo.

Peter Broderick - Music For Confluence

The manner in which Broderick can nail these feelings on all these classical instruments is endlessly captivating. It’s the subtle touches between the melodies that gives each track its unique voice. To score a scene where a kid finds a “deer skull” at the side of the freeway, only to realize it was actually human, Broderick puts together a Stars of the Lid-style respiration, executed with pointilist piano consumed by tremolo violin melodies and ghostly female vocals. In the opening moments, barely audible, haphazard strikes of strings or piano hammers litter the background. One of the final pieces, “Circumstantial Evidence” uses both tremolo and well-tempered violins in tandem to generate a palpable feeling of unstable resolve. The closely-miked piano, the distorted thrum (of a cello?), the dropping of a bow: everything that happens in the background is just as interesting (perhaps more!) as what requests our immediate attention.

The trailer for the film for which this music was created is here:

Confluence (Official Trailer) from Erased Tapes on Vimeo.

Plaid at the Biltmore Cabaret

I went to a concert on a Monday night. I'm getting too old for this shit.

For over a decade Andy Turner and Ed Handley have rallied past simply making electronic albums, having composed for giant wooden machines that play music, worked with myriad visual artists, scored several films, all while regularly shuffling software. The artificial vocals on Plaid’s 2011 release Scintilli sound so real, they raise the audio freak’s eyebrows. Plaid’s sound palette blends round-cornered, cerebral digitalism with highly active and organic electro-percussion.

The last time Plaid played in Vancouver was in 2003, and it stands as the best sounding show I’ve ever attended, one that featured intensive video imagery as well as a remote-operated camera droid that essentially “remixed” the footage it gathered of the performers on stage. In 2011 Plaid played the increasingly popular Biltmore Cabaret, much to the chagrin of the aurally particular. The low ceiling ensures sound has little room to breathe, indicating that Plaid were not going to sound anywhere near as good this time.

The Square Root of Evil gets svelte between hardcore beatscapes.

Local glitch-thumper The Square Root of Evil opened with a set that never lost momentum. Sometimes her aggressive rhythms gained such speed to the point of banality, only to transition lusciously into a jungle-esque storm seen through a Fuck Buttons lens. Spearheaded by the constant pulse, it was like Bogdan Raczynski extending a triumphant 80’s moment over time via 8-bit Nintendo sound libraries. Jen Pearson had a chipper energy about her, but her connection to the audience never exceeded the gaze of the giant cat eyes that appeared on her white tee shirt. Her wardrobe served as the entire concert’s lasting image.

Plaid opened with the sunshower and chimes of “35 Summers”, a piece originally created for the beautiful underwater video work involving a woman and an octopus filmed by Richie Burridge, which they naturally displayed. Much of the show's remaining video work was created live by Plaid’s on-board software, but it all paled in comparison to their previous touring visuals. Aside from the actual music videos they showed, this tech feature felt like a baby step toward a future triumph.

Next came “Sömnl”, a piece off Scintilli whose wah-wah bass emerged like a golden lion out of the speakers. Its bass kicks punctuated with welcome urgency. This is what the live electronic show is all about: revitalizing tracks, suddenly making the recording sound stale by comparison.

The opposite happened with “Eye Robot” which packed less punch and clarity than Scintilli’s version. The Biltmore’s limits were seemingly tested as the carbonated engine that drives this song was muddied into a cauldron of undestinguishable features. Other pieces like the circuitous “The Launching Of Big Face” and the inebriated “Talk To Us” suffered similar fates. The highlights ended up being the pieces with more percussive dynamism rather than cerebral headgames. “Crumax Rins” totally slayed, inspiring folks to dance harder. This “oldie” from Spokes injected more narrative motion into the set, sending Plaid’s dodecahedron down a worm hole.

Ed Handley and Andy Turner cast an iSpell in Vancouver, BC.

Before long, they laid it on thick with an exercise in multiple polyrhythms, a drumming deluge that was more confusing than stimulating. Plaid often toy with different time signatures to great success, but anyone who had ordered a PBR at this experimental detour really noticed their beer wasn’t alcoholic enough. The way to get people back into it would be to play the hits, and for Plaid that’s “Eyen” off of Double Figure. Retooled quite a bit from the original it put a fresh spin on the end of the set. The encore was the delightful “At Last” which features those artificial female vocals that continue to beguile.

Plaid’s focused stage performance resembled what you’d expect at a laptop concert, except this time the artists had iPads. Plaid are using them as controllers, and they serve as yet another icy fire in which to gaze alongside the three Macbooks. The stage was exceptionally dark, obfuscating whether or not Handley or Turner smiled or ever made eye contact with the humans in attendance. Sometimes you wonder if they’re just checking Facebook up there. If one of their laptops caught on fire then we’d have something to watch. All things considered, it was a show that featured satisfying adventurism in the song interpretations, but it was done a disservice by the sub-par sound. Those hypnotically bouncing cat eyes lingered in the periphery as everyone made their way home.

35 summers from Siam Liam J. I. on Vimeo.

Birds of Passage and Leonardo Rosado - Dear and Unfamiliar

I almost feel like I went out on a limb saying this was one of the better ambient/vocal albums of the year (wait, there can't be that many of those). Still, while Alicia Merz's vocals are kind of like a sweeter version of Lhasa, they almost strike me as a guilty pleasure. Like it's a bit over-dramatic at times. But that's why this album works, since it's a re-creating of Casablanca's soundtrack. My review on The Silent Ballet analyzes further. Here is a sample:

The album is a tale of two sides, each concluded by Leonardo Rosado's trademark: animated drones and instrumental escapades. “A Kiss Is Just a Kiss” enters with a faucet of eastern drones and turns up the water pressure until the crescendo. These lyric-less bookends, as well as enchanting elements like the sitar on “Of Your Charm”, ensure that Dear and Unfamiliar stretches time. Each piece is paced a little differently, but on the whole they all create a living dreamspace so that the 43 minutes seem a lot longer, putting time and place on notice. Casablanca is in Morocco, but that raga sounds Indian, and the players are from two other completely different countries. Where is this beautiful place? Somewhere dear and unfamiliar. Let’s hope this isn’t a one-time collaboration between these two highly talented artists.

Here's lookin' at you, kid - Birds Of Passage / Leonardo from Hugo Goudswaard on Vimeo.

Benoît Honoré Pioulard - Plays Thelma

From the opening wheezing of processed feedback to the distorted organ outro graced by the calls of many a swainson's thrush, this EP is distinctly a product of the Pacific Northwest. Plays Thelma offers glimpses and impressions of an imaginary lake and its surrounding fauna (Thelma) that exists in a liminal realm visited by Portland-based Benoît Honoré Pioulard. The hypnogogic chords of "Malick" hearkens the overcast, nostalgic leanings of Rafael Anton Irisari's The North Bend (another PNW-inspired album). The EP transpires via processed, ambient adventurism, most of which was recorded onto magnetic tape. This medium is not clean sounding and gives these audio dreams that hazy nowhere feeling, often keeping the point where the guitar begins and the harmonium ends indistinguishable. "Hushes Gasp" is a very active piece, with many types of vocal takes pinging across a vast field at each other. A bit like birdcalls, performed by stranded spirits. "Calder" sounds like a heavily reverbed and gently electrified guitar feedback-looping on behalf of itself, but we may never know. This quality of hazy source material secures the dreamspace being orchestrated by Thomas Meluch (Benoît is his performance name, didn't you know?), but the textural aspect has been ramped up a notch in comparison to previous albums. Plays Thelma is a lively and personal experience in the nether, one that ends with a rich, Concern-like drone that escorts the listener to sleep under a willow tree by the lake.

benoit honore pioulard - plays thelma (album preview) by experimedia

Sculpture - Toad Blinker

TRON showed us what it would be like to be sucked into a digital video game, but what about being absorbed into a pinball machine? The electronic wizardry and analogue tape manipulations on Toad Blinker demonstrate what this would be like. This is the audio/visual duo Sculpture’s second full length zoetropic picture disc, and much like Rotary Signal Emitter, it’s a tidal pool of playful energy and audio mayhem. Toad Blinker is 35 minutes of carbonated caprice and while its music stands on its own, the album cannot be fully appreciated without Reuben Sutherland’s fantastic animation that is best viewed through filming the LP in motion at 25 frames per second with a high shutter speed? Don’t have a good camera? Neither do most of us, leaving us to observe the picture disc through a homemade viewer (demonstrated here) while Dan Hayhurst’s effervescent music concrète takes center stage. Imagine the ghostly fanfare of Philip Jeck sent through a grossly exaggerated machine built for Willy Wonka, and you might get an idea. The music is exciting: never stabilizing but also never running off the rails. Sounding much like the mind of a toddler, it’s surprising how intriguing Toad Blinker is despite the melodies and themes being hidden or absent all together. This duo is producing an artistic product that is highly unique, further pushing the idea that music when grafted into other realms of expression can be more than a folder of mp3s.

Elk Cloner from Sculpture on Vimeo.

Plaid - Scintilli

I've always liked Plaid, and even though my review comes down a bit hard on them, I still enjoy this album.

Once in a while, it’s grand fun to act on impulse and tear open the plastic wrapper (Scintilli’s limited edition comes with a nicely designed pointless object, or “muda na mono”) and have some sweet treat. Like a gummy bear or a Snickers, this album is perfectly constructed to hit those spots in the brain that crave immediate satisfaction. In fact, if one embraces this album for the splendor of sound and ignores the premature dramatic fizz-outs, it’s a dream to listen to (with the exception of the irritating “African Woods”). Yet after all that work, it’s a shame to produce something so devoid of grit or humanity. Handley and Turner may enjoy what they are doing, but the album lacks an emotional element that even the most perfect digital delivery cannot fake.

Oval & Mountains at Western Front

Originally published on October 11th, 2011 for SSG Music

Mountains' gear dominates the humble wooden stage at Western Front in Vancouver.

Every year Vancouver gets a smattering of “Decibel Festival Lite,” where a few musicians who perform at the Seattle festival make their way across the border. At the Western Front on Sunday night nary fifty people came to see a unique pairing of electronic artists in Mountains and Oval, whose disparity in approach to music was plain to see.

Like a pair of lumberjacks fire-gazing in their log cabin for the winter, Mountains (Koen Holtkamp and Brendon Anderegg) confirmed they are professional relaxers. The early start time surprised me as I walked into the small acoustic space to hear the stoic duo already engaged in their psychedelic space crafting; they must appreciate a good night’s sleep. Motifs on acoustic guitars were swallowed by sequencers spread across the sonic divide like scintillating fog.

In other moments the guitars provided a warm spinal cord to hold up the burgeoning cosmos emanating from the live electronics, a feature that defines their recent album Air Museum. Taking the acoustic wash of ambience to another level, the sonics explore the warmer climes of classic science fiction videos. Their set featured familiar elements from Air Museum (parts of “January 17″ peppered the final ten minutes), but Holtkamp and Anderegg effortlessly created a unique armada of sounds that were engaging and relaxing. If only my folding chair had been a lazy boy.

The tables of Mountains’ analog gear, cables, effects pedals, and guitars made way for one small table and a stock PC laptop. This measure of equipment doesn’t prepare a listener for the quality and oddity of sounds that Markus Popp is quite excited to share.

Oval drags and drops squiggly erratta, almost-ethnic synthetics, plucked pointilism, and
off-kilter forms that are realized well after they've appeared.

Popp has been performing as Oval for more than 20 years, and much has changed since his earlier works that helped pioneer the idea that “glitch” can be a pleasing musical concept. The spartan room at Western Front made the performances seem more like a tech conference presentation than a concert. A chandelier or other design elements could put a little flavor into the space, but on the other hand, the lack of flair allows for complete focus on the performer.

On Oval’s recent double album O, real instruments were sourced to create sounds and spirited midi drums carry many of the compositions to a new level of depth, a result Popp himself was surprised with. He professed to the audience that he had “a lot of material to get through” and that if anyone didn’t like something, to speak up and let him know, encouraging discussion between songs. A song would end abruptly, and there would be complete silence. At each sudden interval Popp would occasionally mutter to himself and everyone in the audience would try not to breathe. The invitation to interact was exciting, but no one took a chance, leaving Popp to make every manner of facial expression as he ushered a jungle of different motifs into his main musical themes, creating entirely new but familiar compositions.

No song was more recognizable or infectious than “ah!,” a cerebral pop tune that reveals Oval can actually bring the party. Dancing at this small event would have felt a bit out of place, but many of the pieces planted the desire. The challenge in listening to O became an absolute delight in person. The cadence in each song was constantly misbehaving, keeping the mind highly alert. The instruments’ hard, analog strikes were quite physical. The levity and charisma of the off-balance melodies made the music very human, like you could feel it emanating from your bones.

Markus Popp wears his windbreaker to weather the storm of questions provided
by the audience.

Amongst his energetic and tumbling vignettes, Markus Popp is more of a scientist learning to become a musician. During the after-set discussion, he said he didn’t consider his pieces to be true songs and admits that he doesn’t ever listen to his contemporaries. “I’m always in touch with it, but I don’t listen to electronic music.” His laptop had color coordinated audio themes, arranged by instrument or feeling. He can experiment with his library of wild sounds as long as the base tracks (drums and main melody) are synchronized. He said it was akin to hearing the hum of a washing machine while experimenting in the kitchen. “It’s nice to know something is working while the rest is going on.”

Popp’s encouragement to interact and ask questions was the most wonderful part of the show. Even though the audience remained silent, each person knew he was a welcome participant. It played out more like a listening party and conference with wine and vinyl readily available. Popp’s humility and eccentricity made for an engaging evening of music and technology.

Amazing Drummer in Average Band

BLAST FROM THE not so distant PAST: Tenacious D rock n' roll Invitation Request

I am digging through my old files, and I found this little gem from when Julia and I found out Tenacious D were playing in Vancouver. The story goes that we are ridiculously devout D fans, and their music represents a special fraternity in our marriage that cannot be broken. When we found out about this show it was already sold out. So we put together a swarthy Craigslist ad. A day or two later, by some miracle of the heavens, a second show was added, and we ended up getting seats in the FRONT ROW. We even took a sharpie to the show and designed our own tee shirts on the spot to further supercharge the occasion. Jack Black sweated on me. Definitely a highlight of my concert going life...


We be two humble peasants wandering the path that was chosen. A man. A woman. Side by side, in rare friendshipian union, staring toward the blazing horizon, lusting after all the possibilities of the world. Nary a day goes by when we do not weep at the prospect of missing our mentors' grand judgment of rock upon our beautiful Canadian soil, for we missed our chance at snagging an invitation. When the D doth come a summoning, we must appear before their holy feet, to be learned another lesson of life, to have our socks rocked clean off, to get one step closer to answering the Ultimate Question.

For us, this would be a life-changing event. If yee be selling or losing tickets, lose them this way. If you want to ensure that your pretties are given to someone who will maximize their enjoyment, thus causing the Earth's biospheric aura to swell productively, please consider us.

PS, we have a tv and a playstation2 that we want to sell, but it can definitely be implemented into our obtainment of Tenacious D rock invitations. If you want said electronics, do come a calling.... with love Nayt and Julia

A Winged Victory For The Sullen

Behold. This album is so gorgeous. Not to be missed. My full review on The Silent Ballet is pretty well written, too, I think.

Not everything is immediately apparent on this debut album. If you know Adam Wiltzie from Stars Of The Lid or The Dead Texan you know to expect orchestral drones and chamber minutaie performed by real instruments and expertly manipulated guitars. If Dustin O'Halloran’s performance prowress has you excited, you know you are in for some understated poignancy on rare pianos. If you heard that Peter Broderick guests on violin or that Hildur Guðnadóttir plays some cello, you might hear this album go by like a constellation secretly appearing at dusk and ask, “Wait, what?” It is that effortless in execution. It can take many listens, for instance, before one realizes a harp is being played on track four. At first, it all blurs together as one song, as if the mind and heart have some growing to do before the details begin to pop out. Where were all these supposed instruments, one wonders? But, boy, after some flexing of the mind, do these details pop out!

a winged victory for the sullen 'steep hills of vicodin tears' by kranky

Talvihorros - Descent Into Delta

I done reviewed a pretty good guitar drone record. Ben Chatwin is pretty on it.

Chatwin seems to get better with each Talvihorros release, and Descent Into Delta is a fine example of the diverse ways in which a guitar can contribute to the crafting of a cohesive environment. Overall it has the sensibility of Aidan Baker and the real-time nocturnal features of Expo 70. Chatwin improvises much of his work and goes in to tweak it later. Yet despite the obvious amount of care, this release has the air of spontaneity. On the final track, “Delta”, a viola wanders like a ghost through the dead of night, clearly present, but without tangible form, like a lucid dreamer in the ether of sleep.

Nest - Body Pilot

Nest are lovely aren't they? A more extensive exploration of this record is here. Here is a snippet:

More restrained and subtle than their previous release, this EP focuses on the phenomenon of flight or weightlessness. The opening "Stillness" provides the clearest link to Retold, inviting the listener to play the releases back-to-back. Out of a delicately sustained set of strings emerges an inquisitive and spartan piano motif. These singular notes and chords languish in the open air, vestal in feeling. The background textures and chordal ambience beckon a letting go into the clouds, which is where Nest heads next with tentative, outstretched wings.

Nest / The Dying Roar (Preview / Excerpt) by Serein

Paavoharju - Ikkunat näkevät

Ikkunat näkevät is a brief collection of rare tunes and alternate takes from one of Finland’s outsider forest collectives. Paavoharju’s previous two LPs burst with imagination, extracting syrup from trees and turning it into blissful psychedelic pop and folky toy-tronica with male and female Finnish vocals. The band's edgy but gentle sound is entirely unique and mesmerizing, yet decidedly odd, like Bjork and The Sugarcubes trying to pull off a Broadcast and Focus Group record. The same sound is on offer here, but on the whole it's not nearly as intriguing as on the full records. Three tracks are reworked versions of some of the group's more memorable tunes, notably "Kevätrumpu" and "Aamuauringon tuntuinen". The familiarity of the hooks contained in these mutant versions glues the EP together, but if you've heard these before and aren't an obsessive fan, they are fairly similar to the originals. Paavoharju usually have a dark shadow lurking behind the smiling face of their songs, but the newer tracks here feature a more blissed out take on the dreamworlds they love flying around in. The title track is more of a traditional ballad featuring violin and piano as well as hand-on-heart male vocals, grounding the spacecraft for three minutes in rural, Finnish folklore. Overall, this EP is a digestable twenty minutes describing what these ascetics can do, and a lovely place to begin exploring some of Finland's more unusual groups.

Paavoharju: Ikkunat näkevät by Fonal Records

Donato Wharton - A White Rainbow Spanning The Dark

An intricate, after hours foray into ambient expertise. Read my full review, or read this snippet:

The sonic territory is somewhat akin to the solo work of Aidan Baker, but Donato Wharton is more interested in the details than in melody or ambient propulsion. Tracks like “Breath Held”, graced by gong like plucks, white tones, amplifier gain and solitary guitar ambling, may be spartan, but their sonics are intelligently designed and highly evocative. These pieces feel like reflections of the human experience, rather than edgeless depths and clouds. As a result, the interacting creatures and winds of White Rainbow feel more like arctic shorelines than descriptors of arctic shorelines: memories grafted onto the backs of storm petrels.

Donato Wharton / Ink Mountains (Full Track) by Serein

Weird Al directing the Jr. Phiharmonic Orchestra of California at the 54th annual "Battle of Batons"

Special. It's from 1991. I doubt Al is this limber these days.

Beware of Saftey - Leaves/Scars

I wrote a review again. This time it was for the beloved Beware of Safety. Here is an excerpt:

Throughout Leaves/Scars, the bass playing is virtuous and versatile, and contributes a new aspect to the band: a sense of humor. This new levity is a welcome buffer between the album's emotional highs and evocative rock conversations. A soft but chipper bass riff introduces the playful “Crooked Nails For Catching Skin”. Eventually it is joined by an intelligent shimmery guitar line and a pair of expressive melodies. The opening riff almost sounds like something one makes up the first time one picks up a bass; but once the drums are added, and the song evolves, it's impossible to imagine a different phrasing. This track is the album's most exciting, as each section is in constant motion. The rhythms have bounce, the guitar melodies morph, and the playing sounds urgent and emotional.

Plaid compose music for robot band

Extract from composition: 'Glide' recorded and filmed at Gasworks winter 2008

Noveller - Glacial Glow

I wrote a full review of Glacial Glow here. I always want to route for the female artists doing something different, and fortunately Noveller is getting better with every album.

After an overall presentation of slow motion post rock and icy but vivacious drones, “Waxwing” is the experimental gem. Scrambled cetacean calls reveal themselves to be lost violins and reversed, reverbed guitar plucks. A new movement enters with a flurry of looped eccentricities, guided by (possibly) a cello and bolstered by more high-neck guitar busy work. It invokes microorganisms or perhaps a flock of wintering birds (the song’s namesake) all feasting on a leafless berry tree. Sarah Lipstate then lets the listener down gently like a sinking hot air balloon with “Ends”, a simple and earnest conclusion.

M. Mucci - The Secret is Knowing When to Close Your Eyes

It's rare these days to find an expert guitar recording without added studio embellishment. Canadian Michael Mucci graced our listening ears with last year’s lush and acoustic-heavy Time Lost, a refreshing take on the American primitive technique. This follow-up cassette is limited to just 100 copies, making the singular and gentle electric guitar vignettes that emerge seem all the more personal. (Don’t fret*, digital copies are available.) The Secret is Knowing When to Close Your Eyes is an ode to the beaches and culture of Malta, and the ease with which one feels a true sense of home in a gorgeous yet humbling environment. With a nod to Loren Connors’ style of play, M. Mucci captures a truly emotional and honest performance, not one of extreme emotional highs and lows, but one of tranquility and comfort. A title like “The Calm of Knowing What is Going to Happen Next“ reflects the guitar player’s fragility and confidence. A detectably bittersweet tone is found in “The Three Cities”, but the resounding feeling of peaceful composure is featured in the title track, where notes and chords sculpt a lovely offering of gratitude. The Secret is Knowing When to Close Your Eyes is a wonderful 25-minute album for holding still.

The Caretaker - An empty bliss beyond this World

This album is exceptional. Read my review, of which I am somewhat proud.

If you play this for a room of unsuspecting friends, they may quickly remark how much they enjoy it, but as Kirby's movements start to play out and mysteriously disappear, something odd may unfold in their souls. You may have given your guests the gift of second guessing, misplaced nostalgia, and temporary mental illness - even bliss! If this suggestion is a bit much, consider An empty bliss beyond this World as the perfect soundtrack choice for your haunted house this Halloween. I know it will be playing in mine, daring children and adults alike to question this reality and spend a moment in their own halls of horror.

Years Of Rice And Salt - Nothing of Cities

This record is simply joyful. I wrote a review.

To sound “happy” on record takes confidence, and Years of Rice and Salt have it in spades. This album is strong from start to finish, weaving traditional post-rock, experimental stanzas, folky gaeity, triumphant singalongs, emotive journeying and seamless instrumental interplay. Perhaps it is the band's attempt at conjuring an imagined future, a statement implying that change is possible. To behold these songs in a place where cities play no part is the perfect strategy. Nothing of Cities is a celebration of life and sound.

Nothing of Cities (2011) by Years of Rice and Salt

Amon Tobin - Isam

Amon Tobin! I wrote a review, which was, admittedly, from the perspective of HIGH EXPECTATIONS. Ah well. He's good, but this album is not...listenable, most of the time.

Isam is complicated, and relentlessly so. I never thought I’d say this, but Amon Tobin, an artist who changed my life and is in a league of his own, has slipped up, folks. For all its production complexity and the artistic talent incorporated into the release, this musical journey falls way flat. Amon Tobin is perhaps going somewhere I cannot go. They say that if it’s too loud, you’re too old, but I don’t think that applies here. Instead, let’s say that if it’s too not-good, you’re not fooling anyone. At least not me.

Hans Zimmer & Rodrigo Y Gabriela - Pirates Of The Caribbean IV: On Stranger Tides

Yes, I reviewed this album. And I saw the movie, one of two I've seen this year, the other being TRON whose soundtrack is more consistent. However, the actual music on this one is arguably better. It's just... the remixes that kill the thing as a cohesive unit.

Those who enjoy following up an adventure film score with drum n’ bass remixes will find the complete package here. Barring Photek’s more than decent rehashing, the rest of the (six) remixes tacked on to the end of On Stranger Tides reek of Disney shmaltz, including a few with sword-on-sword clangs doubling as percussion (read: fail). Were these not involved whatsoever, the soundtrack would be pretty sensational. Hans Zimmer and his composer posse have been hitting home runs lately with scores like Inception and Sherlock Holmes. Here, Zimmer pairs his rock-influenced symphonics with the work of Rodrigo Y Gabriela, a Mexican duo who spent many years busking metal tunes in Ireland before rising to international distinction. The duo ends up stealing the show. Along with a rough sounding violin performer, they give the film a flavor distinct from that of the other Pirates films; it’s their soundtrack, with Zimmer doing his thing in a complementary role. (It’s their “Y” vs Zimmer’s ampersand!) Rodrigo Y Gabriela’s machine gun precision on the acoustic axes is a revelation. (They play so fast they ice their hands after every show!) Their talents are utilized particularly well on the playful “Angelica” and the riveting “The Pirate That Should Not Be”.

Overall the eleven primary pieces are paced very well, but whenever the flamenco/metal duo isn’t involved, Zimmer’s soundtrack seems to be missing that unique something that he seems to conjure time and time again. The forced feminine mystery of the “Mermaids” track sounds like something we’ve heard a lot before, unless one listens on headphones for the bizarre, sickly non-harmonies in the distant background. In the film it does its job - but really, how crazy can a man get when he’s working for Disney? The articulate acoustic shredding makes up plenty for the blatant, orchestral hot points, but those darned remixes continue to perplex.

Battles - Gloss Drop

Battles are awesome, and now as a threesome they are arguably "better" because they still pull off amazing, complex tunes. Here is my review, touting Gloss Drop as something way more than decent.

A couple years ago, while Tyondai Braxton was still with the band, Battles had an album’s worth of material. When he left, the remaining members had to reinvent themselves and essentially make a new album. Gloss Drop doesn’t feature the polyrhythmic sensibilities that matched Braxton's sugary voice to the music; nor does it contain his compositional curveballs. Instead, this is the sound of Battles rising from the ashes. The vocal presence contributes to a significantly different feel. The sound often drives straight ahead, matching more muscular moments with the familiar overlapping guitar lines. And while this album isn’t as glued together as well as the last one, its level of talent, fun and ideas is still remarkable. If Mirrored was the wild stallion that one could admire for its beauty and unpredictability but never touch, Gloss Drop is the dependable thoroughbred that will more likely win the race when all is said and done.

Marcus Fjellström - Library Music 1

This man is a delight. I thought his last album was a bit stronger on the whole, but my review of Library Music 1 sings his praises.

Most of these tracks are around two minutes long, and behave as windows into strange worlds. The dense and varied elements Fjellström arranges make these glimpses feel complete. The off-kilter piano chords in “107” teeter and rattle like the legs of a mentally-ill millipede. They are backed up by skittery snare rolls, static, fizzy cymbals, and a deep corridor of alternative percussion. “109” features a liquified, electronic vibraphone that shapeshifts amidst faint ebowed guitars, echoing chimes, some kind of dulicimer and an ambient haze. Fjellström works digitally, but his work sounds dusty and ancient due to progam plugins which emulate the irregularities of analog tape. “103” and even “110” sound a heck of a lot like Amon Tobin’s atmospheric meanderings, with motorcycle engine pulses, insectoid accents, bowed cymbals and a faint orchestra and choir. With such similar production values, one could easily trick an Amon fan into believing “103” was one of his new, unreleased tracks.

Il Rumore del Fiore di Carta - Lesson 3 / How To Live Without Senses

Some folks on my staff really dig this album, but I don't agree. My review is revealing and maybe a bit harsh.

Instead of bold shifts or risks, Il Rumore del Fiore di Carta keep things simple for most of the album, abandoning their sense of adventure. This injures the listening experience, especially when an unnecessary pit stop like “Part-time Superhero” is tasked with carrying listeners toward the show’s eventual climax. Album closer "The Blind Cosmonaut Under The Sea” is a complete waste of time, sounding exactly like the end credits to a student film about an angry kid who whose father never loved him enough. This piano solo does not do the album any favors. Instead of ending strong, IRdFdC limps away with a track containing about as much emotional depth as a romantic comedy.

Explosions In The Sky’s All Of A Sudden I Miss Everyone also ends with a track that dares us to get sentimental. “So Long, Lonesome” is a tame attempt at including piano for emotional effect, and Il Rumore del Fiore di Carta‘s latest album seems to be plagued by that same infraction. Coloring with accents and effects is fine, but as an instrument, the piano is too bold to sound this boring. It’s a big tease. Even the guitars seem to be playing in its shadow, and it isn’t quite working. The trumpet and the drumming/bass combo are Lesson 3’s saving grace, but it isn’t enough to get me out of my chair and race to the telegraph to tell you about this occasionally promising but ultimately pedestrian album.

Brian Reitzell & Alex Heffes - Red Riding Hood

Brian Reitzell is a fascinating score composer who fashions new instruments to achieve very specific moods and sounds. For 30 Days Of Night he doctored a pottery wheel with felt, mallets and tubing. Their eerie, grinding tones helped the film’s outstanding soundtrack to achieve a rich uniqueness. For Red Riding Hood, Reitzell teamed up with Alex Heffes, who always conducts his own scores and has quite a varied set of film credits (Last King of Scotland, The Rite). Perhaps he was the grounding force to Reitzell’s more avant guard approaches. As a result, Red Riding Hood has a balanced mixture of synthetics and orchestra. “Kids” contains straight ahead drumming, liquid guitar accents and music box melodies, while “Dead Sister” turns up the ominous vibe with bowed cymbals, cobwebbed strings, hallowed vocals and a creepy anklung-esque bit of percussion. The ever-mutating “The Reveal” features the most in-depth look into the collaboration, as analog hadrosaurs shudder in the shadows while ominous cellos and horns shift the mood in a delicious fashion. Retizell’s drum programming and analog treatments are quite captivating at times, carrying a ton of momentum and intrigue. Other choices like hammered dulcimer, ambient glissades and a beautifully lamenting guitar (from “End Suite”) ensure the work steers clear of typical soundtrack schlock. To choose Fever Ray as a lead musical voice for a major motion picture is exciting, and Reitzell’s production and sound choices match the group’s tribal electronics, seemlessly incorporating the music into the fray. A big surprise is how enjoyable Reitzell’s collaboration with Anthony Gonzales turned out to be, as the symphonics cleanly blend with the sweet boy vocals and the classic M83 fuzz and space whir. The vocal-based tracks are well-chosen highlights as opposed to awkward stand-ins. While soundtracks often sound like they are aping a film one can’t see, Red Riding Hood is an apt demonstration of how collaborations can produce a fresh and focused voice for a film one doesn't really need to see to enjoy.

Listen to this bizniss here.

Thai Elephant Orchestra / Dave Soldier & Richard Lair - Water Music

This review was the most difficult I've ever had to write. And it's not like I gave the elephants a poor review; I scored it high. It's just so difficult to articulate a judgment and analysis of creatures we don't understand as well. And I love animals so much; it was tough to be critical in any way. The album's music speaks for itself. It's simply magical and unique.

Many sound artists are bent on creating previously unheard environments, and the most successful exhibit an ease to their craft. Sometimes these elephants get a little too excited on the rain sheet or joyfully hit the gong a few too many times. But then they stop; they listen to each other. One hits the xylophone more softly, showing a little restraint. What are they thinking about? This isn't a bunch of children playing music. These are animals with musical minds, and quite often their seemingly haphazard playing is as striking as any recorded work done by Homo sapiens.

Seekae - +Dome

While Australian three-piece Seekae have prepared to perform as a live band, their second full length album sounds like the experimental bug shooed a lot of the live instruments away from the studio. Processed vocals somewhere between helium and female are turned into drum pads on "Blood Bank". Indulgent segue "Underling" pairs a sampled string section with a series of square-waved glissandos. One of the best tracks, "Gnor", grooves with overlapping synth modes, bass synth lines, clickity rim shots and live drums. Can't knock these guys for the variety, but therein lies the issue: the endless directions could have been intriguing, but instead they distract from any overall cohesion. "Reset Head" sets the pace wonderfully with cerulean ambience and minimal drum programming before a beautiful melody tandem enters via synth and shimmery guitar. It's one of the highlights, but then things grow more experimental again; the band forges ahead and away from a good thing. No two songs on +Dome are alike. Sometimes the capriciousness of a band is what sells the music, but Seekae don't stick to one sonic pallete, and the myriad sounds aren't compelling enough to define all their edges. It may seem unfair to say, but the production is too clean and innocent for such off-kilter electronica. Most of the drum programming refuses to hit a groove, choosing instead to skitter around, teasing us with a moment that might never arrive. This moment does arrive once. For two glorious minutes in "Yodal", the groove starts as an insistent, shark-skinned laptop shredder, breaks for a cloudscape, and then continues on its razor juice tirade. +Dome is half as long as Seekae's behemoth debut album, but the obvious skills and risks never feel grounded. If this band went straight ahead more often, they'd have more of my attention.


Seekae - Blood Bank - +Dome by Rice Is Nice

Mountains - Air Museum

This album jams. Read my long review at The Silent Ballet. It's one of my better writing pieces in a while, I think.

Air Museum’s strength lies in its ability to change tone drastically while maintaining an overriding voice. I was initially caught off guard by the album's sequencer rhythms, as I had become so accustomed to hearing the duo paint with soft brushes. The synthetic pulse's ebullient and deliberate voice is a gamble, and it’s easy to write off on first listen. In the ambient field, one could almost call this “rocking out”. Given the chance to pass through the folded arms and cell walls, such moments end up being the album's most memorable.

Post-Rock Paper Scissors Podcast

Steve and I did an Internet radio show with Armand.

Episode 67: Curated By Nayt Keane & Steve Sherman by Post-Rock Paper Scissors on Mixcloud

Colorlist - The Fastest Way To Become The Ocean

I like this record. But not a ton. Its brevity (26 minutes) allows for me to play it and not commit too long to Colorlist's occasional missteps, which is nice because I like what the band is up to. The track with the Tortoise guitar player is smokin'. My review is ok. I love the Serein label.

The Fastest Way To Become The Ocean definitely fits the bill as a spring time record. There are darker undertones from the winter beneath the surface, cobwebs to brush away, seeds in the ground that we have worried will not survive the frost, but in the end, the pastels and dewy wonder of a fresh start pervades. The last track “What We Have Left” features some light hearted vocals from Liz Payne, and while the track borders on being silly, knowing what Colorlist were going for helps the track’s disparity make more sense. Still, when taken in context with the longer suites of burgeoning sax revelations, “What We Have Left” feels out of place, like it belongs somewhere different - like Sesame Street. The beef of the EP is great, and the two shorter tracks kind of fill in the gaps with decent material, leaving the entire album feeling like a collection of good music by Colorlist, but not as cohesive as hoped for. EPs, however, are the battleground for experimentation, and given the talent and risks that this band is willing to take, I delight in the next journey they go on.

Vocaloid Hatsune Miku: The Hologram Pop Star

When I put three piercings in my eyebrow my parents were probably perplexed. Why would our child do this? My parents had tattoos in their world (they would never get one), but the advent of body piercing really didn't become a thing until I was a young adult. They probably also wondered about raves, and parents before them were confused by chia pets, and rug burn and leather bars before that. I was starting to think that I've got a pretty radical take on the world and as I age, I still have a finger on the pulse of what young people are into and why (even if I've outgrown some things).

Until this. Watch the clip and be amazed at a sold out concert hall rocking out to a computer generated voice singing songs, with an animated pop star representing it. There is a live band, but wow, the focus is obviously on this machine that some Japanese folks invented that can learn and sing songs. Look at those glow sticks! I kind of get it? Who cares if the computer can sing? I suppose I listen to a lot of wacked music with electronics being the main voice. It's just the arena of the icon worship that electronics really haven't ventured into. Not like this. Rock stars have been human until this. Gorillaz dabbled, but this is full on.

Hatsune Miku (初音ミク) is a singing synthesizer application and its female character, developed by Cypton Future Media. It uses Yamaha's Vocaloid 2 synthesizing technology. Her name translates to something like "Voice of the Future." I was hoping the videos I saw were just staged and that this wasn't really all that popular, but I was wrong. It's a world wide phenomenon. She's performed in Singapore recently. It's growing. Learning... compassion.

In a way, this pop star is perfect. It can't get chased by the paparazzi. It doesn't do drugs or make bad choices after a show. It doesn't get tired or go through the fame gauntlet, leaving it messed up for the rest of its life. It's always going to perform. Once the computer refuses to perform, the world will have effectively changed forever. Usually, people make mechanical or 3D versions of humans, but here, we see humans fetishizing the machine and dressing up like her. It's a total role reversal, and one that I am barely clinging to for some kind of understanding. Why would anyone really care how high a computer voice can sing? How is it that when a certain song begins at this show that everyone's voices rise in appreciation? It's manic, and I feel that gap forming between old fogey Nayt and what kids of the future are into. It's happening. I'm 32 and I feel like I'm already cut off.

Who Is Arcade Fire

I am in love with The Suburbs record, and since The Arcade Fire won a grammy for best album of the year, there has apparently been a large pouting backlash against them due to their apparent obscurity next to acts like GaGa and Bieber and such. Kids be appalled that the band won and they hadn't heard of them. Anyway, if you are at all stoked that a band you kind of (or really) like actually won one of these awards for once (even Trent Reznor won a grammy this year for chrissakes!), then you will probably find this funny.

Who Is Arcade Fire media tumblr. Even Dog The Bounty Hunter's twitter weighs in.

Zomes - Earth Grid

Asa Osborne has something going on here, but I fear many will not care. These are lovely meditations on timbre and melody. They seem to be educational studies, even. My review is full of praise, but something doesn't quite happen unless you're in the proper mindset or on drugs.

Earth Grid impresses by not trying hard to be something it is not. It behaves like a miracle or the advice of an elder, natural and at ease. The album's nature can feel oppressive and dull, but citizens of the technosphere aren't going to be ready for mystical mantras sung from peasant amplifiers. How often have we lost our concentration on something vital to a frivolous distraction? Food is industrialized, SUVs are named after eradicated Native American tribes, and the next thing you know Stonehenge is causing global warming. This album is a calming agent, striking chords (literally and spiritually) with the aim of focusing one's energy inward so that one's subsequent actions will be full of beautiful intention. Even the cover art, born of white tape on black paper, is more than the sum of its parts. It's not a perfect album, but considering how little is going on, it has an undeniable inertia that defies conventional reason.

Powerdove - Be Mine

I thought my buddy Malcolm might dig this stuff, as the folk component is actually tempered by experimental work in the background. I can't really get into much folk music because of its devotion to that very hippie-christian methodology that only allows for guitars and mandolins to really have any part of the narrative.

As social primates, we need each other. When we are yearning to break our fossilized fears, it often takes a loving companion to help see the light. Annie Lewandowski’s wispy voice and spartan acoustic guitar carefully crawl up the walls of a dark spiderwebbed lair, bringing light to places that have only known darkness. Her earnest, husky explorations into intimate settings are greatly enhanced by her textural backing. Jason Hoopes is the bass player and Alex Vittum the drummer, but that's just the beginning of the story. Bells, bowed cymbals, trombone, clarinet and feedback support Lewandowski’s haunting and sun dappled lyrics. Be Mine strikes a pleasant balance between the gloomy corners of the mind (“Resting Place”) and the playful impressions of life’s oddity (“No Carpet”). While this record is not easily digestible, it is cut from an honest cloth, and makes for a profoundly physical listening experience.

Birdsong

Annie Lewandowski (voice/guitar), Jason Hoopes (bass), and Alex Vittum (percussion)

Valentine's Day 2009

Area C - Map of Circular Thought

This record is perhaps better than I suggested in my review. A real brain massager and provoker. This dude knows his shit.

Good ambient music often isn’t really all that ambient. Decent musicians set up a scaffolding of sorts that repeats and then play within it, delighting in the details. Area C has a lot to offer on the periphery of carnality. It serves a wholly different purpose than, say, Destiny’s Child, attempting to turn fragments of mind into entirely physical manifestations. The physical aspect of these sounds gives them power, much like the work of William Basinski. It’s no surprise that Carlson is an architect and has been making installation art for years. He's a student of sound in space; he’s even scored pieces for National Geographic, the NASA RI Space Grant Consortium and the LEF Foundation. This person isn’t just sticking to the studio or his bedroom; he’s involved in spheres where his music truly overlaps and makes sense. It’s inspiring to see what many could call an “obscure” kind of music be afforded so much importance in telling the stories of the world.

An After Image by Area C by Preservation

A Setting Sun - Flower Garden of Rejuvenation

What a mess! Ok, it's not so bad as to say it's useless or a white washing of the senses, but... my review is a combination of kind and head-shaking.

Tonally, Rejuvenation contains themes of beauty and brutality, agitation and repose, personal struggle and loss. The rather obvious re-tooling of the original album’s title indicates that there was no theme for the remixers to emulate. This is reflected in the disjointed nature of the tracks. As fun as it may be to send one's tracks to like-minded music freaks and have them souped up and transformed, the remix album is taken to the next level when everyone is on the same page.

Aidan Baker - Lost in the Rat Maze

I have a special place for Mr. Baker in my heart, and I am not often inclined to go there. He's got more releases than I have days in a year, so I can say that this album is a decent place to link up with Aidan's dreamdirge style. I wrote a large review of it, too.

Despite the rather uninviting image that graces this album’s cover (taken by the artist in question), the music has quite a wealth of variety. Piano and flute sounds appear, which give Aidan Baker’s typically guitar-centric robo-drifts some expanded topography. Overall, the compositions are different enough from each other as to designate ‘songs’ as opposed to one long drift (as on albums like Green And Cold or Pendulum), and the album as a whole benefits greatly. The dismal yet gentle palette is peppered with variable drum lines, boyish exhales and indistinguishable lyrics, as well as an overall playfulness. Baker once again sounds like he is in total command of his world, and it’s nice to hear so many sides of his work in one place. The album’s cohesiveness throughout its experimentation is testament to Baker’s ability to maintain a narrative focus on every project.

Pleq - The Sound of Rebirth

By the time you read this, Pleq will have released another album. Perhaps many more. Those in the electronic music world have the opportunity to be highly prolific, as Sound of Rebirth is the Polish sound architect’s fifteenth LP or collaboration, roughly. Sharing similar down-tempo palletes with the likes of Benge and Arovane, Pleq’s sound here is fulcrummed on jazzy piano lines immersed in chilled, soft-focus electronic foyers. The tracks that work best feel like sound accompaniments to the exploration of long-abandoned, but furnished houses, the air flecked with the novelty of curiosity fulfilled. Female voices appear as apparitions, whispering or breathing through walls, like on “A Very Gentle Death.” Pleq’s penache for writing alluring pieces that bloom gracefully as they progress is quite lovely. On the other hand there are a few tracks where the female vocals dominate, and their breathy waywardness feels more an intrusion. No more is this true on the opening piece, “Black Dog”. Hiiro-tent’s voice may be compelling in another context, but here it meanders and contradicts any flow the song might have had. Ghostly siren Natalia Grosiak flutters about more purposefully on “Raindrop”, fitting in much better with the album’s overall framework. Overall, the record has great songs, but the arc of the album is broken up by weaker or unfleshed-out tracks, or just a case of too many different sounding songs bogging down the main themes. The violins on “Swell_Bliss__Downtempo_Edition_” are a great addition, but they appear so deep into the procedings that it sounds like a different album alltogether. I thought the album was over several times before it was. One thing is for sure: With Sound of Rebirth close to 74 minutes, Pleq doesn’t skimp on the quantity.