Thursday, July 23, 2009

File Under "G": Grouper at the Church

My weekend was quite busy.  I finished building our family chicken coop (for chickens, not families) on Saturday and then went to see Grouper.  On Sunday the family drove down to Seattle to take in the sun and the lake with some friends before I went out to see Gifts From Enola tear shit up at the Sunset Tavern.  
The Grouper show is, in my opinion, a model show for the future. Artists like Sufjan Stevens and Joanna Newsome have played in St. Andrews-Wesley Church before, but this was the first show I've attended there.  The space features mock 14th-century-style Gothic tower, a high vaulted nave, deep transepts and nice stained glass.  Watching the sunset through those panes of Christ was actually really nice, for being inside.  It was dark in there.  But that's the way the artists wanted it.  

Openers Diadem, a male /female tandem, produced a very eclectic ambient piece for about 25 minutes.  The only light coming from a shaded lamp behind them.  Vocals thrown through a chaos pad, electronic circuitry and effects made to sound like bells and chimes, and a constantly shifting ambient terrasphere made their music one of CHANGE.  Constantly morphing, the music never went anywhere, but was interesting nonetheless.  

Not long after (and thankfully putting an end to the tasteful but way-too-loud house music) Empty Love, another man-woman combo, began climbing their little pyramid.  They turned the lights low and were illuminated by a series of colored circles, scanning across the stage right to left.  Nice mood.  The lady began some repetitive guitar pluckery that seemed to drag after a while as the fellow teased with subtle ambient touches.  Julia laid down in the pew, hed on my lap, and yeah I was starting to get the same impression.  Time to pass out.  I leaned forward, head on pewback (word?) and started to realize that I had drank Kratom tea before the show, which ever-so-slightly changes your angle on perception.  Before I knew it, the drone had exploded into an ocean-sized swell of staircased digital fuzz, undulating and breathing with life!  Well done, people.  And just like that, it was over.


Liz Harris meandered on and off stage in her capris jeans for a while.  She sat in her chair in front of her pedals and slung on her guitar, took it off; She did this several times.  The beginning of her set was constantly in question.  When she did start, I wasn't sure if I should believe, but there is no mistaking someone sing clearly into a crushing electronic fog, looping her voice three times into a complex harmony, all the while keeping time with some simple lower register guitar work.  This was one of the highlights of the whole performance, but I should note that the performance as a whole is how to take in Grouper.

Liz Harris apparently doesn't like to play live shows, at least not a lot of them.  Playing outside of Portland is a rare occurrence, so Julia and I snatched up tickets immediately upon hearing about the show, even though we were close to broke.  Now we aren't broke, and seeing the show was a special, a residual treat from the days when we were making a lot of very little.  (It's not like we're bling-blingin' now, but go with me here)  Grouper is similar in her approach to performance.  Bare-bones in set-up, with a flickering black-&-white projection shown all over the stage, she builds and builds colossal sound-scapes, peppered with tons of reverb that piles on top of itself so much that new, un-intended rhythms and effects surface, making for a very dense kind of music.  You can pick and choose what area of this sonic soup to listen to.  Or if you were like us, you trance out in your church pew, eyes closed, completely aware of the music.


We never fell asleep.  We were conscious the entire time, but we were definitely between dreams and being awake.  It was extremely surreal, to come back to the space and realize how incredible the sound was, little Liz up on stage with her black hair in her face, somberly unpeeling her lips toward oblivion.  Something about her performance was totally holy.  She said thank you once, but she never seemed to want anything from us.  She just wanted to give and then be done, go rest.  

Grouper is not typical drone music, and yet we can't help but call it that.  It is engaging to witness played live, far surpassing most of the platitudes offered by other drone artists.  It's because Harris is using what all popular acts get famous on:  Melody.  Beneath the tumultuous seas of her fuzz and reverb, there are songs.  And good ones.  It's the melodies that drift up like souls escaping to heaven, lasting as the pieces you remember long after it's over.  Grouper in a church makes so much sense!  I want to see more shows like this.  Sigur Ros always has said they'd prefer to play in spaces like that, for it is more befitting of their music.  As I grow tired of these rock and roll crowds (see the ISIS review below) I am looking for different kinds of performances, an intimacy that seems lacking in shows these days.  This show satisfied that desire on multiple levels.  Plus we left our baby at home.  It was the perfect date.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Starving Weirdos - Into An Energy

Read my entire review at The Silent Ballet

This album is a great place to start exploring their large catalogue and free drone in general. Their other work is glorious and dense in similar ways, butInto an Energy feels very complete, with megalithic, burgeoning sinews of narrative. The Starving Weirdos say they are "a wild and desperate style music band. Obstinate recluses attracted to mystery." Statements like these really fire me up over people making music. They reveal but a sliver of insight, but they imply total immersion in one's craft, hinting that they will forever expand their creative thresholds for the good of the lattice of human consciousness. Support music like this!

Sunday, July 5, 2009

G-Units

In two week's time I will be seeing Grouper play live in a giant stone church in Vancouver, and then the next day I hope to see Gifts From Enola in Seattle. Then go back to work the next morning in Vancouver. The Grouper show is most intriguing, as Liz Harris and some friends will be filling St. Andrew Wesley's Church (which I used to live next to) in downtown Van with their reverb-soaked melodies and atmospheres. It's going to be very interesting. Perhaps holy. At this stage, however, the only thing certain is that the tickets to the show are really cool. Check these out. Most of the time, tickets are boring and, well, you know what they look like. This one has some design and style, with grooved paper and hand-numbering on the back. It feels nice to hold. There will be a different weight and meaning to handing this ticket over to someone at the door to enter the show. Maybe I don't want to give it up!

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

ISIS in concert

I've seen a lot of concerts in my life. Too many perhaps. The tickets I've saved alone are closing in on one hundred (i have a scrap book). That doesn't include all the basement gigs, the hand-stamps, the club crawls, the house parties, the backyard serendipities and all ticketless ventures. I was 17 when I went to my first show, and now, 13 years later, I think I'm getting bored of the format.

For the record ISIS are awesome. Their show was really good, they sounded good. Aaron Turner is so freakin' awesome it captures my imagination. I can clearly see him now, growling at the top of a pyramid as he fingers a complex chord progression. How can he mainTAIN? What a man.
The crowd at this ISIS show a week and a half ago was SHIT. Really? We're still moshing? I guess it's been a while since I've been to a "metal" show, and I should have known people would have been pushing each other around because I've seen Tool seven times and never do the Tool-Fucking-Tool-heads not show up and ruin the sacred atmosphere. Same goes for ISIS. Whatever you want to call their post-metal breed of music, I can't really call it metal anymore. It's so cinematic. Yes, there are heavy hitting moments and I can't help but stomp around, too. But people moshed whenever, like cuckoo clocks with their timers stuck on repeat.

I must be getting old. I don't want to hit things or people anymore. I used to relish the mosh pit as an occasional thrill. I've even been shirtless once or twice in a pit. I've been in there when Slipknot were crushing the air. Steve and I yelled "Fagot" at some fucknut in a KoRn moshpit, and he backed away. I've been threatened by nazi straight edge types at the Nile in Mesa, AZ. I've lost a shoe, then found it a song later. I've lost a wallet. I was young, spry.

I can't crowd surf anymore, but I know the difference between a sea of people and a small five-row audience. But that's what some of these assholes were trying to surf on. Five rows? No wonder you got dumped onto the monitors. Aaron Turner had to remind people to take care of each other (he doesn't really talk). It was just so weird to be a part of such a meathead crowd in front of such an intellectually stimulating band like ISIS. It really tainted my whole experience. I balked on buying the Wavering Radiant vinyl, too. I think if I was stoked I would have bought it, even though I don't even own a record player (yet).

So, to all the mosh pits I used to enjoy, I wish I still cared, and I hope no one gets hurt. I will toast to a new way to express ourselves at heavy shows. "Impale me!"

Trent on Sound Opinons

This interview with Trent Reznor on Sound Opinions is the best interview I've ever heard with Trent, and maybe with any musician in this modern world. The way these radio guys flow and mix in the songs around the conversation is quite deft. Pretty thorough and entertaining stuff. His talk of Interscope and Chris Cornell's new (lousy) album is gold. Can't resist Trent's candor.

Monday, June 29, 2009

maudlin of the Well - Part The Second

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet

I don't hear a lot of intention on this record. It can turn out gloriously and be wild and free, but here I feel like the band doesn't engage the listener. I hear a band that doesn't really care if the listener is there or not as they frolick amongst the cosmos, and we are totally free to hop on the ride and see what these people are doing. I do not hear an exchange. This makes my listening of the album a bit cold, even though maudlin of the Well are describing very warm places and experiences.Part the Second thus behaves as more of a monument to variety in modern musical styles, frenetically blending them wayward without consequence, like a god who does fantastic things without the regular consequences that befall all humans, rendering it less meaningful to us mortals. This album would totally slay live, but once committed to tape, it reminds me of someone describing a dream to me that I just can't care about.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Signal Hill - More After We're Gone

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

It's the drummer that really sold me on Signal Hill. The drumming has all kinds of subtle touches, gentle accents placed deftly into ripe empty spaces, and intelligently played textures that generate a rich base for the instruments to flourish, giving Signal Hill something different to offer. In "Luna", the spartan drum line has this awesome hanging high-hat that compels me to keep listening to the song's aqueous rhythm. "Floruit" is the best track on offer, and again it's Tim Cooper on drums adding such a diversity of texture that I cannot stop listening once it starts. So, Tim Cooper, you're the man. You keep Signal Hill in the conversation. Bravo.

Monday, May 25, 2009

The Ascent of Everest/We All Inherit The Moon - Split

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

Despite the presumed disparity, there are common threads between the two bands. The chamber music of WAItM's closing piece "...and ever. Part III" mirrors the two string players in The Ascent of Everest. The latter band uses ambient bits to create atmosphere in select moments, while the other employs them as a general rule. Where one band remains consistent, the other dabbles, and it unifies the album in a way I didn't see coming. Featuring two different bands with kindred spirits, this release exemplifies the beauty of the two-sided LP. They are like night and light, but combined they create the cycle of an entire day on earth. If these two acts went out on tour together, listener satisfaction would be at a premium.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Lawrence English - It's Up To Us To Live

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

Lawrence English creates soundscapes.It's Up to Us to Live treats the listener to a dynamic world of texture, where tones and organic clutter roam free. Guitars sometimes surface like mysterious ocean-dwelling mammals on a vast, seaweedy expanse, revealing that this laptop dream we are having is populated by real instruments. Like a rainforest, English rarely lets us see the animals we know are there. The soft-focus distortion of the jungle (or music) commands our perception, little details bursting forth everywhere, and on rare occasions an ocelot (guitar line) will dart out from behind a tree and disappear moments later. Reviewing a record like this is as ridiculous as reviewing a particular forest you happen to be enjoying. What would be the point?

Monday, April 20, 2009

Anduin & Jasper TX

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

This album is gorgeous sounding. Simple and safe, nothing new to the genre is happening here. Anduin and Jasper TX sound relaxed, as if they composed these pieces from rocking chairs on a back porch. It's a summertime drone record! Nothing to prove - we just want to make beautiful music. In this, it is successful. Combining the talents of two of the best drone artists in the world really couldn't go horribly wrong, but I do think there is room for greatness. It all sounds nice on the surface, but other than that standout song, veils are not lifted to reveal deeper mysteries. Something eternal feels missing from the overall picture. It must be that pesky black hole theme. Black holes represent the absence of life and light. Or, I could be wrong, and this is the go-to album for back porch drone enthusiasts!

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Fishing With John - Neko Shokan

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

Take one look at the album cover. Accept it. It really is the album cover. The Hallmark faerie didn't accidentally switch it with a get-well-soon card. The choice to employ a cuddly kitten as the ambassador to your third album, as Fishing With John has done, makes a lot more sense if you are a cat enthusiast and you are a regular writer for "Kitten", a Japanese magazine about cats, which Yusuke Igarashi is. I'd expect that the music on Neko Shokan ("Cat Correspondences") would be a precious soundtrack to watching cute animals do their thing, a saccharine ode to all things young and innocent. And that's pretty much what we have here!

Monday, March 23, 2009

Fabio Orsi & Valeri Cosi - Thoughts Melt in the Air

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

What is so striking about Thoughts Melt in the Air is its vibrant optimism. These songs are nailed perfectly, and do what good drone and free noise should do: create a new world for the listener. The pieces sound alive, like they have conscious intentions. The pacing of this album is excellent, solidifying this duo as icons of top-flight experimentalist noise-scapery. Fabio Orsi and Valerio Cosi have collaborated a lot in recent years, and I will be paying close attention to part three of their "Apulian Trilogy". Bravo.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Mokira - Persona

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

Mokira has made a mature-sounding album. It's also pretty: pretty boring. The spark of life is dim. I hear his previous album, Album, is much better, and I'll go find that one. As a fan of ambient music, I believe there are other musicians doing this sort of thing much better.

The Spacemen 3 ode "Oscillations and Tremolo" takes the cake, though, for its flaccid attempt at profundity. Just as the title suggests, it's a slowly-metamorphing series of synthesized patterns. The only time I found this song interesting was while out on a long walk, when the negative space between the oscillations gave way to the constant sound of traffic. The song became a ghost of its former self; almost unheard. You can perform this experiment on your own, by the way, by repeatedly cupping your ears with your hands, but Mokira does it for ten minutes - beat that! If you're just relaxing at home without loud background noise, this track just reeks of annoyance. It's like waking up at 8 a.m. in the abandoned post-rave factory and realizing that someone left the strobe light on. Ugh. Take me to Denny's.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Zu - Carboniferous

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

If you've been listening to Zu throughout their 10-year rise, you know they are liable to mutate into new, adventurous versions of themselves on each record. This album showcases an advanced leap in song-writing; their finest work thus far.Carboniferous is just their third full-length, but they've collaborated on up to fifteen records and splits. To call them "jazz" at this point proves you're reaching for a description that used to work. Even back then, it was a stretch. When it comes to labeling music, I'm more like Aldous Huxley, who said that "any attempt to reproduce these musical statements in our own words is necessarily doomed to failure." Music as exciting as Zu's cannot be captured in the medium of the written word. It's a mystery to be lived.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Greg Malcolm - Leather and Lacy

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

The guitar sounds Malcolm creates are as varied as an ecosystem. For being a bit on the strange side of things, the music is refreshingly relaxing, much like watching a fire. The songs on Leather and Lacy are much in the style of Malcolm's album Hung on Campbell Kneale's (of Birchville Cat Motelfame) Celebrate Psi Phenomenon label. For someone to appreciate jazz and express that appreciation in this way astounds me. I've never heard jazz that sounded like this. I've never arrived at an understanding that remotely resembles what Greg Malcolm has done with these songs. They've become dirges for a distant future, when our civilization has transformed into something simpler. Percussive dialings, shimmery scrapings, clean melodies, musty desert wind. It's all so strange and wonderful, emotional and timeless. This is wise and magical stuff. Pull up a log and lean in.