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.