Fenn O'Berg - In Hell

These dudes are on another planet when they play. It must have been pretty invigorating or confusing for those in attendance of these live recordings. I was thoroughly impressed. But it's exhaustive to listen to this more than a few times (much less 12 or so, which is what I managed). The electronic and sampled landscapes are so diverse and rich and dizzying. Not for the noob, this one. I wrote a meatier review of this meaty thing, at The Silent Ballet.

The wealth of sounds and directions this trio comes up with in a live setting is on another level, but with repeated listens the lack of structure wears the veil down. Much like one can only watch the Sixth Sense once or twice before its magic dries up, In Hell’s improvisational performances feel masterful, yet wear thin after the first few engaging listens. It’s recommended to savour the very first listen, and tuck this beast away for another wormhole ride some time in your distant future. Your distant, dystopian, dark-metal- ambient listening future.

Olan Mill - Paths

My first review for A Closer Listen! And what a dandy.

Poignancy with brevity. That about sums up the ambient chamber duo Olan Mill, a pair from England who compose strictly in the winter time. “Bleu Polar” picks up right where their debut Pine left off with gorgeous etchings of violins and guitar (and some voice!) slowly drifting through the seams. It’s a lovely and sombre connection between the two albums, making way for some different approaches. “Springs” opens with sober and lush piano work and is the only track to feature this instrument. Pine featured a bit more piano, but the story goes that Paths is a product of two live performances that Alex Smalley and Svitlana Samoylenko recorded: one was with Peter Broderick, the other with Hauschka. Smalley admitted being intimidated by these two impeccable and talented pianists, so Olan Mill ended up dropping piano almost all together for the show. Perhaps the self-imposed limitation helped them step up their compositions a notch.

Smalley spent many years working as a music therapist in a maximum security mental institute, and the music he creates is more of a personal respite (in the summer he works on the euphoric drone project Pausal). In listening to Paths, one might detect a bit of the dread and madness that accompanies such a profession. “Amber Balanced” ratchets up the anxiety with a rough edged drone peppered with heart wrenching violin work. Field recordings and backward plucks and errata help grant the piece a sense of helplessness in the face of devastation. As the ending to side A, this track essentially razes the landscape and wipes the slate clean before having to turn the record over.

Each track on Paths delivers a decisively different feeling, and that is its greatest strength. The album can drift by as one song, but the details are full of lush stories to discover. “Eye’s Closed (for Rube)” is an ode to Smalley’s late grandmother, and is apparently the first Olan Mill song written in the summer time. It has much more of a Stars of the Lid vibe due to its multiple layers of vibrant violin melodies intermingling. It makes for dynamic listening to hear the confident swing from despair to optimism occur several times over the course of one album. There is no doubt that though Olan Mill’s overall sound is one of sobriety, pause, and deep emotional memory, it expresses a desire to connect, to break down barriers in the listener’s mind. Above all Paths is ridiculously gorgeous and cannot be missed by the lovers and poets of the listening world.

Mirroring - Foreign Body

Another artist dear to my heart is Grouper. Ever since Julia and I saw that show of hers in an old church I have never been the same. I believe I've hated standing at shows ever since this one. Trancing out in a pew is second to none as far as concert set and setting goes. And thus, I have enjoyed this album a bit, been confused some, got distracted a lot by crying children in the night. This album has come at a highly transitional time for my life as a young parent.

Fans of Grouper's Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill rejoice! Liz Harris's "breakout" album (for the indie masses, at least) was an experiment on her part to let her voice be more clearly heard above her signature drift-scapes and sonic storms. But like spotting a white dolphin in a muddy river, it was a one-time glimpse, as the Portland, OR resident next released Alien Observer/Dream Loss, which sank her voice back into the haunted murk. Enter Jesy Fortino, the Seattle-based song writer known as Tiny Vipers. Her melancholy folk guitar and near-Patti Smith voice make for a genuine complement and balancing weight to Harris's experimentalism (and a voice up in the mix). Thus we have Foreign Body, a collaboration where both women were responding to each other in person and one that truly behaves cohesively. The album warms up with the very Grouper-dominated "Fell Sound", and then Fortino's voice and guitar are the main draw on "Silent From Above." It is as if the artists each took a turn getting their feet wet, and so it is on the third track "Cliffs" that we hear the leap in the stylistic fusion. The acoustic guitar lingers in space as if taking a series of labored breaths before gaining the courage to press on. Once it develops its momentum the album's deepest journey begins, placing both women's voices amongst various landscapes and textures. "Drowning the Call" is also a must-listen, and is perhaps the best lullaby fans of drone and ambient may hear this year. Harris's voice has never been more comforting and reassuring, and as the vocal duet drifts in unison it's easy to feel at peace. "Mine" brings Fortino back to the fore, and as the album's most challenging piece it best expresses the idea of a "foreign body" with feelings of great distance and solitude. It would be a shame if these two didn't make another Mirroring album, because while varied and well-blended, Foreign Body feels like the first step to higher peaks. The two artists are a natural fit, and the contrast between the wash of sound paired with a pointed starkness is an intriguing world worth exploring deeply.

If These Trees Could Talk - Red Forest

If I'd chosen to pursue music as a lifestyle these days, I'd probably be in a band like this. Atmospheric, progressive post metal. There is a special place in my heart for If These Trees Could Talk. I've skyped them and I've listened to their music a lot (have some vinyl too, which is significant because I don't have a huge collection). It was really hard to review this record because it sounded a lot like the last one and I did not want to come down too hard on the guys. I tried to be constructive, point out the positives, but Red Forest just isn't exciting enough for me. I'm growing immensely as a person and I want my music to take leaps and bounds, too. My expectations are high! Oh, woe is fandom.
A snippet from my longer review: 

If trees could talk, they could send for grizzly bears wearing armor made from invasive oysters and thistles. They could appoint eagles to drop bombs of sulfur and geysers to erupt in city streets. If they could stop us from being so irresponsible, they would be so evil we can't even imagine it. That's what I want this band to sound like! It’s no mystery that ITTCT is a guitar-driven band (there are three of them, after all), but the end of this final song is where everything gets really exciting (is that a double bass kick? Yes!). Everything comes together. This is post-metal with true purpose, refraining from fatty filler, coalescing with a confident shout before disintegrating. If this band is moving in this direction, I highly anticipate what’s coming. For now it's status quo.

Listen to the album here:
If These Trees Could Talk - "Red Forest"

36 - Lithea

Back in the swing of review writing I am. Here's a tasty album that might not be for everyone, but who doesn't ever feel lonely? This album is all about feeling ALONE, but the hope and optimism peeks through many of the cracks. Read my full review, from which this is a portion:

Dennis Huddleston releases everything on his own label and creates all his artwork and content. He clearly has his bits together and is steadily improving with each of his releases. Lithea at times feels like a mixed bag, but it constantly sounds like there's a river nearby while orbiting a galaxy. This juxtaposition of elemental pieces gives the album a sense of supra-physical existence, like this is a real place but only in the mind. It's the kind of music that is gorgeous one minute, and the next it's forcing us to realize we're wearing meat suits; it seems to reek of mortality and fantasy at the same time. The striking reds, whites, and blacks of the cover image reflect the relative dynamism here compared to the bluer hues of the previous parts of the trilogy. Either that, or I am easily influenced by color, and Huddleston's design sense has me wooed. Nonetheless, a resounding simplicity guides 36, and with Lithea the artist continues to hit his groove by injecting more personality and heartache into his music.

Lilacs & Champagne - Lilacs & Champagne

I love me some Grails. And I love me some hip hop. Why hasn't anyone figured out they'd be an amazing combination? The guys in Grails  probably thought "We can't wait for everyone to catch up. We'll take care of that." And so we have Lilacs & Champagne.

Alex Hall and Emil Amos have been blending and transforming psych music from around the world for over a decade, and anyone familiar with the visual motifs of Grails knows that these fellows love Italian film music, British television soundtracks from the '70s, and other obscure cultural errata. The obtuse videos they've put together to promote their last few albums (including this one) are quite indicative of what this new Lilacs & Champagne project embraces. In fact, the video element has never been more integrated than it is here. Themes of decadence, violence, the occult, religion, and theater [techni] color the album's pages, and the overall play between humor and dread ensures an intriguing listen from start to finish, which sounds something like William S. Burroughs cutting up early John Carpenter films Grails collaborating with J Dilla.

(an exciting update (For me) from L&C's Facebook page. They posted a link to my review on The Silent Ballet, and even though I've been doing this for years, it's so gratifying to have the artist say a review of mine is "well written." Thanks guys.)

and a bonus song, one of my favorites from the album, "Sensations":

Everest's Top Five of 2011

1. The Arcade Fire - The Suburbs
Everest welcomed some albums with open arms last year. No album was more loved than The Suburbs by the Arcade Fire. It was the sound of our road trip to Arizona and back, and it never got old. Hell, it's one of my favorite albums from that year. Every song is picture perfect. There's some indie whining here and there, but Win Butler just seems to have his entire body on the pulse of what inspires the battle cry in the youth. The band's infectious energy gets Everest excited. He often could be heard singing the lyrics to "Rococo" while he was busy playing. My pride would swell any time we were in a store with the radio on and two-year old Everest would boldly blurt out, "Dad! It's Arcade Fire!"  Shop clerks took notice.

2. Daft Punk - TRON Original Soundtrack
"Lissen to Daff Punk again," Everest could be heard saying in the early half of 2011. This album got played so much in our car it started to make Julia and I sick. We had to hide the CD. Whenever I hear the synth rhythms and shuffling tech drums backing up Jeff Bridges' dialogue in the opening track, I always think of Everest's quiet concentration in the back seat. Eyes sad and focused, looking straight ahead. What was he thinking?! What was so compelling to him, I wonder? It is a good soundtrack, but wears thin after about 20 listens within a week. It's Disney-approved after all, and it's probably the only Disney soundtrack our family would be willing to put up with.

3. *shels - Plains Of The Purple Buffalo
As a music nerd, it gave me great pleasure to have my Purple Buffalo vinyl arrive and show it to my son, who was already a fan of the music. Everest and I had a moment listening to the first track on this album where the vocals are screamed. We were rocking out at the time, and much to my surprise Everest began mouthing the screaming with much zest. From this point forward E. has a taste for metal music (he is known for his famous "hammer fist" while dancing to Slipknot and System of a Down). Still, the *shels album was requested a lot, and the artwork is so iconic and lovely that it must have made a lasting impression. Again, much to my delight.

4. Tycho - Dive
This album came as a surprise. I was asked to preview it on SSG Music, and while I agreed, it wasn't good timing, so the album inherently irritated me. But then after listening to it, I was pleasantly surprised by how good it was. Everest somehow requested it one day. I didn't even know he knew what it was., but he asked for the album with a stark image of a sun on the cover. Everest is much more careful when handling vinyl now, and we put this one on lots. It's highly attractive on all fronts, especially the downtempo boards of canada style tunes.

5. Fever Ray - Fever Ray
For the second year in a row, this album was a huge influence on E. Karin Andersson's voice is absolutely captivating. And the electronics are so poignant. The simplicity of this album left us with no choice but to actually purchase it. We ended up with the vinyl and a deluxe CD with all the videos and a live concert.  Sometimes when Everest is tired he requests to hear it. It's hard to say no, as it's such a well made, timeless and strange record.




6. Honorable mention goes to Bjork's video for "Crystalline", directed by Michel Gondry. Everest pronounced it: "Byoo - YORK." Fits of rage were had for a while when we said 'no' to repeated viewings of this video. Once a day!

Bjork, Crystalline from Peter Sluszka on Vimeo.

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.