Negative Approach: Negative Approach (S/T) 1982 

i hate wednesdays

Khmerpop Comps

So I used to make everyone in the computer lab listen to these two 1960's Cambodian Cassette Compilations my senior year of high school (needless to say I was totally the most popular kid).

On first listen, it's all so...well, Asian. But when you listen to it some more, you'll start to see elements of Western jazz and blues. There's no getting around just how culturally significant this music is. It's a miracle that these cassette archives survived the Khmer Rouge, which attempted to purge Cambodia of its native Khmer identity by burning books, tapes, records, and artwork. This is honestly some of the wackiest music I've ever listened to, but I really do love it.

Cambodian Cassette Archives

Notable tracks: "Two Wives Are Twice The Problem", and "Don't Let My Girlfriend Tickle Me" (And yeah I may prefer those because I think the titles are the best ever.)

Cambodian Rocks 

Notable tracks include "Yuvajon Kouge Jet", "Jeas Cyclo", and "Rom Jongvak Twist" 

This is what I listen to when I listen to too much hardcore.  

Libyans 7"

Really loving Libyans (the band, the Libyans of Libya are currently screwed). This 7" isn't as harsh as some of their other stuff, it has a good pop/Riot Grrrl vibe going on. The only problem? It's only two tracks. (But thank god their full-length album, A Common Place, which you can find here, rules too, as does pretty much all their stuff.)

Cold Cave, Wim Wenders, and the Instant Gratification Paradox

(Didn't feel like doing homework so I wrote this instead.)

Something I've been thinking a lot about lately is what I see as the "instant gratification culture" of music. Actually, there are elements of this sentiment in everything, movies and art included. The demand seems to be "we want it, we want it now, we want it to be interesting, entertaining, and accessible." I first started noticing this in American movies. There's a sense of urgency in our movies--that audiences must be satisfied, there has to be a love story, an action sequence, and millions spent on special effects. The protagonists have to be beautiful, and the plot has to be utterly riveting (and wrap up within a tidy hour and a half). God forbid we should be bored for one second. We need to leave the theater feeling buoyed up by these fantastical plotlines, and above all, the movie needs to sell. 

Compare this set of characteristics to one of my favorite movies of all time, Der Himmel über Berlin (or, "Wings of Desire"). Directed by Wim Wenders, the 1987 film is a sort-of romance, but more a meditation of what it means to be human, and our questions concerning the afterlife. Wings of Desire is entirely unlike an American film. It runs 128 minutes, and more than half of it is in black and white. What I love so much about this film in particular is that it takes its time. Each aerial shot of Berlin and each close up on a stranger's face is leisurely, pensive--and though sometimes I start to feel a little bored, the attention Wenders pays to small details and building the plot up in a slow and natural way makes the overall experience fantastic, and incomparably deep.

This is what so much music is lacking. Though I will never stop sighing when anyone mentions My Bloody Valentine, and wishing that for god sake's Kevin Shields would do something once in a while, I have to respect him for taking his time with Loveless, arguably one of the greatest albums of all time (in my opinion), and not feeling the need to follow up with a hit-filled album that would net him some profit. The music world is a demanding one. A band has to grapple with both identity related and artistic questions, while still trying to make a little money off it. If a band doesn't release frequently enough, they're called lazy. Release too much and they're called sellouts.

Cold Cave is a band I've been following for a while now, not because I like their music all that much, but because I find them an interesting case study. They've had to deal with the classic economic, ideological, and artistic questions that all musicians face. Cold Cave, which now consists of Wesley Eisold, Dominick Fernow, and Jennifer Clavin (formerly of Mika Miko), is releasing their new album Cherish The Light Years, on April 5th on Matador Records. The label has already streamed the entire record so at this point, it's not much of a surprise. Cherish The Light Years has a completely different sound than anything CC has released before, but given the trajectory of their sound since their first release in 2008, what they've settled into now isn't so surprising. This isn't a review about Cold Cave though---this is a review about the implications of their current sound, and where they may go in the future. 

Cherish The Light Years is without a doubt, Cold Cave's "hit" album. Every song is an anthem, each song relentlessly fast and driving, and Wes' vocals struggling to keep up and compete with the heavy synths. And that's the problem. We don't get a chance to breathe. Each track comes at us like a moving freight train, pounding and thumping and reaching it's climax within 30 seconds. Every song is trying its best to be a hit, and in trying so hard, Cherish The Light Years is an album of singles, not a cohesive and nuanced whole.

Compare this to Cold Cave's 2009 release, Love Comes Close. I didn't know quite what to think of it at first, but for some reason I left it floating around in my iTunes, and every time I listened to it, I came to like it a little bit more. The first track, "Cebe and Me", with its softly blurred vocals and steady synthesizer beeping eases listeners into a hazy, lo-fi world, setting the tone for the rest of the album. Right in the middle of the album comes "Heaven Was Full", a fantastically dark, post-punk throwback, with Wes' voice at the heart. The album finishes with I.C.D.K., which conjures up an almost playful electronic landscape as the end of the release. The result is a unified and multifaceted album that holds its own.

The first issue I have with Cherish The Light Years is the ridiculous amount of money Matador has put into promoting this album. Actually, the first link I saw for the teaser track ("The Great Pan is Dead") was one that popped up on my Facebook (and seeing as my Facebook has previously recommended that I listen to Vampire Weekend and Matchbox Twenty, I casually disregard everything it says). Cold Cave and Matador have advertised this album to death--links showing up on nearly every social networking outlet. Granted, all artists and labels use social networking to announce and publicize releases, but CC has taken it to a whole new level. So much money was put into producing and advertising the album, rendering it so laminated and obvious I cringe. Even the album art and promo shorts have a glossed over, expensive, and truly gaudy quality to them.

I'm not one of those people who stops listening to a band when they get popular, but I can't deny that the self-awareness emanating from this album drives me away. If Cold Cave wanted an album that would grab them countless interviews, and shunt them into the mainstream indie vein alongside Yo La Tengo and Girls (fellow Matador artists), Cherish The Light Years is it.

Cherish The Light Years is a perfect example of what I mean when I talk about "instant gratification." Take the song "The Great Pan Is Dead". It's a clumsy, fast paced track, with Wes practically gasping for air in between sentences. Instead of patiently and delicately building up to a climax--"Pan" delivers that climax right off the bat, so by the 40 second mark, it's already gotten predictable. Had they taken the time to build to such an emotional and prolific sound, maybe "Pan" would be a better song. Though "Confetti" is a fun track, with a Depeche Mode synth foundation and snappy vocals, it doesn't redeem the blatant overproduced mess that is the rest of the album. Cherish The Light Years is a musical sugar high--giving listeners that energetic sound and emotional tidal wave they so desire, but it's as fleeting as a dancefloor remix, dissipating the second the lights come up.

Granted, synthpop/darkwave bands like Cold Cave are under pressure because their music is inherently more accessible to a wider audience. I don't think a band like Wolf Eyes would ever have to worry "Are we selling out? Will this album sell?" because they have a very different (albeit equally critical, but loyal) fan base. However, Cherish The Light Years lacks the complexity and attention to detail that is so important for a musically solid album.

"Nu-goth", Romanticism, Darkwave, and Labeling

"Nu-goth" is a catchy little term people have been throwing around as of late. I have expressed my frustration with the term "goth" before: I think it's a ridiculously generalized term--used to denote both a musical subset and a fashion movement.

My main issue with the idea of a "resurgence" is the implication that it's a comeback, that it's regaining a place that had been left empty for a spell. In my opinion, we can't describe anything as "nu goth" because goth never left in the first place. An essential part of the human psyche is a craving for darkness--we are fascinated and transfixed by it. The relationship between what we describe as "mainstream" and what we define as "deviant" holds our world in place, and not just in music. Society craves order, and this order and logic manifests itself in mainstream politics, religion, and science--but within the cracks and mutations of this order we find art. We cannot have this essential, Dionysian darkness without the mainstream, Apollonian order. Hence the constant complaint that "mainstream music" is in a downward spiral towards meaningless, saccharine fluff is a rather weak argument in itself. Music, politics, science, and art exist in an organic and symbiotic cycle--constantly progressing and reinventing themselves. Darkness isn't something that dies and is resurrected every 20 or so years, it's a constantly evolving concept. After 80's goth-rock bands Bauhaus, Christian Death, and Siouxsie & the Banshees left the scene, 90's grunge and trip-hop filled the void.

 

Take, for example, Massive Attack.  Pioneers of the 1990's trip-hop movement, their song "Angel" (off the album Mezzanine) is a lusciously dark six minutes of pure machine-made music with a strange, otherworldly sexuality. Mezzanine is historically interesting, because it represents the sound of the 90's and experimentation with new technology, but it also proves that darkness doesn't go away from decade to decade--it simply develops and morphs.

In Massive Attack, Nirvana, and other members of the grunge and trip hop movements, we get a continuation and formation of the 1980's new wave and goth sound. Though music scholars like to complain about the moral depravity of mainstream music: pop culture is essential to maintaining the balance between light and dark. If we didn't have pop stars and major labels, there would be no incentive for counter-cultural music movements like goth rock, trip-hop, grunge, darkwave, horror electronics, or witch house. Mainstream culture provides the sounding board against which independent labels and artists develop their values and their sound. The cracks and gaps in mainstream structures provide the space for new artistic movements to develop.

The genre that is getting overwhelming amounts of press for its fatalistic sound is, you guessed it, witch house. Whether you like witch house or not, whether you think it's silly and vacuous, or emotionally moving or mesmerizing (or whether you think it's a little of both)--it cannot be ignored as a social signal, and an another example of our ideological craving for darkness and chaos. 

However, witch house isn't the only manifestation of this decade's experimentation with nihilism. We're starting to see a darkwave movement even in hip-hop, with the LA-based label OFWGKTA, led by Tyler, the Creator. Take a look at his video for the single "Yonkers": 

 

I'm interested to see where Tyler and his crew end up. Though seen by many as "alternative" hip hop, they've also received a fair amount of attention from Top 40 rappers like Kanye and performed at SXSW last week. Tyler and Odd Future have humorous but refreshingly dark lyrics. The video for Yonkers is set in simple black and white, moving in and out of focus as Tyler eats a cockroach, pukes, strips, and eventually hangs himself, in a completely mesmerizing, grim, fashion.

And of course, we have my personal favorite, Zola Jesus--whose unparalleled voice and ability to make completely haunting music out of very few materials sets her apart from many synthesizer-based bands that come and go. She keeps herself fairly removed from a lot of the label favoritism and musical inbreeding, and she has responded rather indifferently to the amounts of attention she has gotten in the past few years.

I think rather than defining something as "new" or "retro," we should consider first the ways in which it is specific to our own era, and what it means in the context of history. The attraction we have towards darkness is a constant, however, the way it manifests itself is ever changing. I find the current obsession with vampire mythology interesting--it's yet another way we revel in the sexually and culturally deviant. (Also notable is the Jane Eyre remake that just came out, as well as the box office flop Red Riding Hood, featuring Amanda Seyfried's boobs...some special effects, and not much else.)   The 19th century Romantic movement was described as, "a fascination with the exotic, erotic, and strange." The Romantic movement is appealing to many because of its escapist aims--its depiction of Heaven and Hell merging into one horrifying and beautiful landscape.

The Spanish artist Francisco Goya made the above etching in 1797, twenty years or so before the Romanticism movement began. The plaque translates to, "The sleep of reason produces monsters." What Goya is trying to express is his frustration with the puritanical ideals of the Enlightenment era. He is telling us that the sleep of reason, our constant obsession with order and the Apollonian universe is subverted by darker impulses (in what 102 years later, Sigmund Freud would dub, the "Id".) It is really no different today. We need logic and control to allow darker impulses to develop. The cycle of humanity is the interplay between light and dark, logic and chaos. From the Greek "bacchae", to the Enlightenment vs. Romantic tension, to goth rock, to witch house--we both revel in and struggle with these cycles. So I guess shaving half my head, scratching an upside down cross on my ribcage, and finishing off the look with some maroon lipstick isn't any dumber than Edgar Allan Poe and his cronies getting hopped up on laudanum and writing short stories about cats and supernatural waifs (okay, maybe Poe deserves a bit more credit than that, but you get the picture). 

So all in all, I don't disagree with people dubbing something a part of the "darkwave" or "nu-goth" movement, I more object to the term because it becomes a lazy way of categorizing something, and god knows, people love to categorize. Like what I said in my review of Puerto Rico Flowers' "3 Sisters", I think the general thought process is "Oh, Sharkey has a low voice, kinda sounds like Ian Curtis. PRF = Nu-Goth rock. Done." That's just lazy. Music is inherently of its time, and throwing it into a general grouping based on a movement that happened thirty years ago isn't doing justice to its modernity. And of course, a lot of this is marketing. If you're writing for Pitchfork, the title "Nu-Goth: A 21st Century Movement" is going to sound of a hell of a lot more interesting than "Music Today Incorporates, Synthesizes, and Builds Upon Past Sounds and New Technology".

This plays into the larger issue I have with categorization. An element of music that I have always struggled with is music and cultural categorization. I've always been wary of people who deem themselves as "goths" or "punks" because in their desire to defy cultural expectations, they are actually conforming to them, and fitting exactly into a defined social subgroup. I don't think it's necessarily bad to conform and I've never seen anything wrong with it, but the essential irony of seeing oneself as an outlier and yet belonging to a massive trend seems rather silly to me. I was once asked by someone who looked at me and sneered, "You like punk? You don't look like you like punk. You look like a white girl who collects Devendra Banhart on vinyl." (First of all, I am white so thanks Sherlock, great point.) My reaction to that question was to burst out laughing, because it seems ridiculous to me that my taste in music should extend to the way I present myself looks-wise. In short, people just love to label.

Categorization is essential to every aspect of life, however, there are times when it takes away an element of nuance that makes the world so interesting. And that's a challenge in reviewing music for me. I want to give readers a sense of history, the roots of what they're listening to, and entice them to look at an artist or a release in a more nuanced sense. However, I don't want to sway their opinions and steal the magic of discovering a piece of music without being tainted by prior prejudices.

What do you think--is labeling a necessary evil, or is it a positive action? Can music ever be "new", or is it simply recycled from past movements and artists?

Haven't been posting much this week/last week because of various factors including but not limited to: wisdom toothage, chillin with my dogs (yeah they're a priority), transcribing the entire Erase Errata tour diary, and midterms. I'll be posting frequently again by this weekend. 

In the meantime, here's some post-punk/new wave gold.

Television: Guiding Light 

 

Rapist in the Park: Anorexia

Every time I ride the bus...the bus driver lets me drive the bus. 

Will be reviewing this EP soon. This song is priceless.

Australia Post #2

Okay so I'm arbitrarily posting by geographic location here. Oren Ambarchi is a Melbourne-based musician whose music I would place in the ambient-drone vein--extremely minimalist but carrying with it strong, pulsating basslines redolent of drone compositions. To be honest, I actually didn't know that Ambarchi used an electric guitar as well as drums, piano, and bells for Grapes From The Estate, I had always assumed he used a computer like so many ambient/electronic artists, however I respect him a thousand times more for working with an instrument so often associated with rock and pop to mimic computer-generated sounds. Whether or not I'm correct, I've always seen the electric guitar as having a "masculine" connotation, not that it lends itself better to one gender or the other---but in the sense of it being identified with loud, rough music, and taking center stage in any traditional group setup. However, in Grapes From The Estate, one could easily mistake the guitar for tone generator software.


The reason Ambarchi's music is so lovely is because it doesn't have that glazed-over, juvenile, computer-blip sound. On first listen, the whole album seems so simple--but delving deeper (good headphones help) the tracks are composed of thin, immaculately arranged layers of beeps, crackles, and underlying waves of bass. Because no computer programs are used, Ambarchi's music has a distinctly earthy sound---like dripping water and static shocks, which is both humble and elegant.

One little detail that made me fall in love with this album? The fact that the third track, "Remedios The Beauty" is a reference to an obscure nymphet-like character in Gabriel García Márquez's 100 Years of Solitude, one of my favorite novels. (I also managed to fall asleep in the middle of a grassy park in Rome listening to "Girl With The Silver Eyes", which sounds idyllic except the fact that I didn't get robbed is a miracle.)

Grapes From The Estate (2004)

Extortion

Vocally driven, Australian hardcore. The energy does. not. cease. There are a few bits where the music stops and they start talking and because I don't associate Australia with hardcore (or maybe I'm just unaware of the aussie music scene in general) I find the accents pretty entertaining.

What's a misanthrope? Some bugger who fuckin hates every other bugger. 

 Totally willing to admit that I suck at reviewing hardcore. Whatever. 

In honor of spending all day in the NYU Riot Grrrl archives tomorrow (oh the beauty of college research papers), and heading home to Boston for spring break: here's Libyans.

I'll probably review this album eventually because I really like it...however I am trying to stay away from copycatting everything that's posted on icoulddietomorrow so we shall see.

My Bloody Valentine Unreleased Track (1988)

"Good For You" is actually one of my favorite MBV songs.

AA, Essential Entertainment (1981)

I'm gonna start off by saying that there is barely any information on this band. Their only EP was limited to 900 copies and they released on the obscure label "Sexy Robot." HoboFM has a few good tidbits though, writing:


Belgium's AA formed in 1980 with the express purpose of undermining the music circus and doing things their own way. They pressed their debut ep "Essential Entertainment" themselves and traveled Europe by train, slanging records out of cardboard boxes. They were also known for hijacking venues: storming the stage after a band played, 'borrowing' their instruments, and exploding through a short set. Just as they started to get noticed for their easy post-punk and angular style they disbanded. They realized that they were on the verge of becoming a 'real band'.

I don't know whether these guys are assholes or geniuses, but I don't care--Essential Entertainment is one of my favorite EPs ever. The four tracks are post-punk of the highest quality, with unfaltering basslines and the classic drawn out, slightly monotone vocals. I'm not doing it justice with this description, so I'm just going to hope that you download it and agree with me.

society stinks

The Sinking Belle (Or: Sunn actually does something different for once.)

I have mixed feelings on Sunn O))), but these four tracks need to be posted. My issue with Sunn O))) is that they're slightly too pretentious, and their sound hasn't really changed all that much from one release to the next. That said, I have to admire how focused, diligent, and patient they are when it comes to perfecting the sound they're aiming for. I actually saw them live last September in Brooklyn (with Boris and Jesse Sykes) where they blew out an amp the size of an SUV, and proceeded to stand their in their black hooded capes, looking extremely puzzled and flustered. Oops. (Everyone had to wait outside for 40 minutes while they fixed the problem.)

As far as I'm concerned, this song is the only Sunn O))) composition I'll ever enjoy. The three versions of "The Sinking Belle" (Blue Sheep, Black Sheep, and White Sheep) are all various B-Sides and bonus tracks of the Boris & Sunn album Altar, released on Southern Lord in 2006. The reason this song is so beautiful is entirely due to the addition of Jesse Sykes, a Seattle-based singer with a gauzy voice and an Americana-folk style. Her voice is complimented perfectly by Sunn's slow, gentle movement and an extremely toned down Boris. This is a simple song, but each version takes it further and deepens the sound, until it becomes a haunting, expansive anthem.

Perhaps the most incredible thing about "The Sinking Belle", is that all three versions can be played at the same time without conflict. I discovered this when I left two Youtube tabs open at once, though I'm sure it was an artistic choice on their part. The experience of listening to all three together is chilling. The different incarnations of Sykes' voice call to each other, and each undulation of slide guitars makes way for another as the sound continually builds and diffuses.
 

Blue Sheep, Black Sheep, White Sheep, Blue/Black Sheep, too many sheep 

What the hell is Witch House/Rapegaze/Grave Wave? But more importantly, why does it exist?

To preface before I'm assassinated by the readers of this blog--I have never once thought that Witch House is "good" music. It's a product of the times, and it'll be gone in a couple years and replaced by something equally as ridiculous. And anyone who's reading this is probably groaning in agony and exhaustion--rest assured I'm not going to force any opinions upon you, I'm simply asking the question, "why?"

I'm not gonna lie, I do like bands like Salem, White Ring, and †‡† (Ritualz) a lot. I think they have an interesting sound, and I like seeing how they develop and work with synthesizers, keyboards, feedback, and vocals. However I find Witch House far more interesting to discuss and to analyze than to actually listen to. Witch House is inextricably bound up with the advent of social networking--primarily Facebook, Soundcloud, Last.fm, and Twitter. Without the internet, Witch House would not exist. It would never have gotten the chance to exist. This rather irritating but fairly insightful article  states the following,

Going into the 90's we had music produced by the children of baby boomers, singing self-centered anthems about how much it sucks to be white, middle class teenagers and this astonishing degree of entitlement was about the most insulting thing to me yet it went on to define rock music in the 90's.  Things haven’t gotten much better. 

I think that point is interesting, but I also think it's built on a weak foundation. What the article gets right is a specific pattern in music that has been replaying itself since the 1950's. The portion of the entitled, white population that wants to pretend that they aren't white and entitled will always find a genre to develop and identify with. Grunge in the 90's certainly did appeal to a largely well-off, Caucasian audience. However, I think it's safe to argue--that a decade or so later, 90's rock and "alternative" groups have staying power.

The problem with WH is that it's built on a an aesthetic and social philosophy--not on the actual music. When I think about why I find WH interesting, my first thought is, "Well, I like the album art a whole lot." And that's the issue. Witch House is more aesthetically interesting than musically captivating. The barrage of inverted crosses, triangles, and the casual tossing around of occult symbolism is certainly fun for the eyes, despite having become completely overdone. Witch House has even birthed a new stylistic ideology called "Gucci Goth." The name says it all: the synthesis of a mainstream designer marketed to the rich and entitled, and a countercultural subgroup which revels in its detestation of everything mainstream. WH is built on this essential paradox of the wealthy elite wedded with the social outcasts. A genre built on a creed so hypocritical can never last. Or perhaps the hypocrisy is intentional--perhaps I'm doltishly unaware of the grand joke, the irony of witch house. (But I don't think so.)

Here's the part where I reveal my dirty secret: I run the WNYU Witch House and Ambient Drone radio show. As the year has progressed--I have become more and more uncomfortable with this fact. For me, WH was something silly and fun, and I figured that it could be interesting to devote a show to it, seeing as it's current and evolving, with most of the artists based in Brooklyn and easily accessible through social networking. This turned out to be true, I've met many of the artists, received demos--and "randomly-affiliated-with-witch-house-people" make up a rough 19% of my Facebook friends. So I guess I succeeded in getting involved, and having the show is certainly worth it.

However, the sad thing about getting so close with the genre is seeing its inner workings--and they're not pretty. Getting to know Witch House is an experience freakishly similar to the time I learned Santa Claus wasn't real. The facade of mysterious music and beautiful people has broken down slowly over the year to reveal a shallow, internet based culture--where your closeness to people is based on how many mutual friends you share and how many times they like your albums on Photobooth of you smoking cigarettes and sporting caked on eyeliner. I once asked a person who happens to be very prominent in the WH world about her relationship with another artist. She responded with a giggle and replied, "Oh, we've never met in real life!" as if it were a silly question for me to even have to ask. A person's status in the WH culture is entirely dependent upon how socially opportunistic you are and how many of the bands you've sleep with. Of course, I'm not saying every one involved in making WH and listening to WH conforms to these standards--I have met some fantastic artists and great people as a result of my show. However, I've been disappointed at how little music actually factors in. 

I honestly don't think anyone would have any issue with witch house if it were a fashion movement or a live-art trend. And if I unintentionally offend any one as a result of this post, I apologize. I'm merely stating my own personal experience as a person who has been listening to Witch House for a very long time. I think it has an interesting, innovative sound---but it lacks the key quality of a genre that sticks around: a sense of humor. Deifying the cult-meme Lil B' (The "Based God") with and talking in Hipster Runoff style might be considered "humorous"--but it isn't the kind of self-deprecating humor that lends a movement staying power. A sense of humor in music means a willingness to experiment with new sounds at the expense of one's reputation and above all--to not take oneself too seriously. Plenty of musicians in all genres are guilty of this, but Witch House suffers from a nasty case of pretentiousness as a result of being coddled and praised by the likes of Pitchfork and Nylon.

Or maybe it's just me. Yes, what music you listen to defines who you are, and it shapes the way you interact with people. Music can foster meaningful relationships and change a person's life. But WH is starting to remind me of my horrendous experiences in middle school when I attempted to sit at "the cool kid's table." When music becomes a fashion-statement, I'm done.

Pentastar: In The Style of Demons

Because I have been nominated as grunge girl extraordinaire by a colleague, I feel that it would be a good time to live up to that title.

Preface: I don't like Nirvana. I don't feel like defending myself with some well crafted musical explanation--my visceral reaction to them has always been negative and that's all I can say. But as with all genres, I find my own angle and there's usually couple bands out there that I enjoy, and that share structural similarities with bands I hate. Earth is my pseudo-Nirvana.

Earth is a Seattle based grunge band which involved multiple musicians who passed in and out of the group--but most notably Dylan Carlson, who put immense amounts of creative energy into the 1996 release Pentastar: In The Style of Demons, which is almost universally agreed upon as the pinnacle of Earth's releases. Dylan Carlson was famously a close friend of Kurt Cobain, and it was Carlson who purchased the shotgun that Cobain used when he committed suicide in 1994. Pentastar was released two years later.

Apart from having an interesting history--Pentastar is a fantastic musical composition. Vocals take a backseat to instrumentals. The album is full of different cultural elements--Southern rock and blues, Aztec folk music, and middle eastern influences. From the heavy, pulsating "Tallahassee" to the extremely minimalist "Sonar And Depth Charge", which completely does away with the guitar parts so heavily relied upon in the earlier parts of the album--Earth manages to be just the kind of genre skirting group I love. (And kudos to them for sticking around so long, 1991-2011. They just released Angels of Darkness, Demons Of Light I on Southern Lord last month.)

I tend to shun the whole "drone-sludge-stoner" (abbr: "droner"?) culture, but this album has always appealed to me. It's very clean, there's no bullshit about it. Carlson isn't a rockstar, and Earth is what drone should be--organic, genuine, and heavy. Whereas Sunn O))) seems to delight in frightening away newcomers and descending into their dark capes--Pentastar is an album you can put on and relax to. It's slow, leisurely, inviting.

(And yeah...after saying I shun stoner-rock culture, I'm going to say: this is a really great album to get stoned to.)

 Pentastar - In The Style of Demons (Sub Pop 1996)

Movement

New Order was the first real band I fell in love with. I found New Order as a disillusioned 15 year old who in so many attempts to be "cool" ended up listening to festering garbage like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Ben Folds. Whereas my discovery of Joy Division soon after rocked my world--New Order has been the kitschy and wonderful soundtrack to the last four years of my life. New Order started off uncertain of their sound and began releasing material in 1981, a year after the death of Ian Curtis. If you're reading my blog you probably know this history already--but I do consider myself the expert on Joy Division-New Order relations and if given the slightest chance to expound upon it, I won't stop talking for a very, very long time.

Though my top played NO songs are the synthpop anthems "Age of Consent" and "The Perfect Kiss," I consider Movement to be New Order's most solid release, which is a tad bit depressing, considering it was their first. Don't get me wrong--NO deserves praise for their longevity and their influence, but when it comes to pure quality, Movement is unrivaled. Movement is a hybrid sound of Joy Division basslines and New Order's increased experimentation with synthesizers, which would later become the backbone of their music.

Movement begins with "Dreams Never End", which seems to promise a tender, upbeat collection of tracks--however the third track, "Senses", is a dark, brooding composition, full of echoes and sharp clanging noises, and in classic Joy Division style, heavy emphasis on bass. The mood lightens for a spell and then comes "Doubts Even Here", which, as the title suggests, brings a numbed, monotone piece to the table, very much reminiscent of "Heart and Soul", off Joy Division's Closer.

Here are the two songs for comparative purposes:

 

I love Movement because it's the missing link between Joy Division and New Order, and a transition into a sound that we immediately label as "so 80's." How did we get from goth rock to synthpop? Movement is the answer to that question.

Movement: Factory Records 1981

Favorites

Just felt like posting a few of my all time favorite tracks. (Some of these albums I will be reviewing in the future.) I don't think it would be an exaggeration to say they've altered me in some way--or at least have imprinted themselves in my memory accompanying events, places, people. Here they are.


Big Black: "He's A Whore"
No sentimentality here, just one of the greatest songs ever (in my world.) This album that gave a soundtrack to my general don't-give-a-fuckery. If I'm gonna be a bitchy teenager--I wanna do it to the best music possible, not some shitty neo-punk boy band.

Joy Division: "Disorder" 

This is one of those songs that blew my mind when I first heard it, and still does every single goddamn time. It's the first song I listened to when I switched from earbuds to Grado SR80's--and finally music had layers--it wasn't polished to a smooth, homogeneous sound (but I feel like that's more of a comment on the quality of Grado headphones...Joy Division is always awesome.) 

 

A Place To Bury Strangers: "In Your Heart"
I really think a person's taste in music in a large part depends upon being in the right place at the right time--or in this case, stumbling upon A Place To Bury Strangers on my hard drive and giving it another listen. I am perfectly willing to see that some people will never enjoy distortion of any kind, or angst or pure loudness for that matter. I didn't have a taste for it until a couple years ago--and know it's the majority of music I listen to (using the terms "loud" and "distorted", I mean everything from shoegaze to punk to industrial noise.) "In Your Heart" was that initial foray into a world of pedals and cords and amps and deafening sound--and I still love that album, and APTBS to death. 

Crystal Castles: "Not in Love ft. Robert Smith"

Crystal Castles usually wouldn't make it to my top songs list (they're certainly fun, but I wouldn't ever count them as quality music.) But the addition of Robert Smith gives this song complete legitimacy in my mind--and I applaud them for creating something so heart wrenching and overpowering--and at the same time--totally fit for the dance floor. 

The Cure: "Signal to Noise"
Speaking of Robert Smith...I love him. I would never deny that he's is one of the cheesiest lyricists after Morrisey (ugh) and all of his songs are still about teenage girls, failed relationships, and thinly veiled sex allusions (I mean...how old is he now?) Despite countless changes within the band, Smith is the heart and soul of The Cure, and you have to hand it to him for keeping it up from 1970 (Boys Don't Cry), to 4:13 Dream in 2008, to the aforementioned collaboration with Crystal Castles.

Fuck Buttons: "Sweet Love For Planet Earth"
Fuck Buttons are masters of creating simple, ethereal, lullaby-esque melodies, and slowly progressing with total precision into the most deafening and raw climax of any band I know. Okay, there's really no way to describe their sound expect for "Fuck Buttons is sex." The pattern of sound mimics sex, and because of that...it's really, truly gorgeous. Listen to it and try to tell me it isn't sex.

Zola Jesus: "Sea Talk"
Zola's music is powerful because it's so damn honest. This is one of the most heartbreaking songs I can think of. She gets grouped with shitty artists like U.S. Girls, and Dum Dum Girls, and Vivian Girls but her music is so above and beyond that it's an insult to her talent and intelligence to even compare her to them.

New Order: "Temptation"
Oh, you've got green eyes oh, you've got blue eyes oh, you've got grey eyes.

My Bloody Valentine: "Sometimes" 
Trying not to let this blog become an "Emma Loves MBV" blog, but come on. No explanation needed here. 

David Bowie: "Helden"
I know all of the lyrics to this...in German. I used to listen to Bowie a lot more and that's fizzled out, but this song sticks around with me.

Grouper: "Heavy Water/I'd Rather Be Sleeping" 
Incredible. So simple and so so perfect. Clean, gauzy sound--with a dark ambient drone backdrop.

Lifelover

It took me a long time to accept black metal as something that isn't completely idiotic--only slightly. The whole gaudy, face-painting, occult iconography shtick never really did it for me. (Now for the predictable, "however" part.)

However, I do like Lifelover. Strangely crisp, post-punk guitar lines moving into an almost boy-band like climax--until the lyrics start: screaming, grunting, wailing, hissing. Konkurs contains a large variety of sounds, from the lone, sympathetic piano, IDM beeps, to classic cult chanting and the strange Ukrainian style folk accordian interlude on "Konvulsion." Just when you think you've settled into one song, the monotony is broken by an unexpected change in cadence or sound.

So click the link if you're craving some wrist slitting, skin carving, dismal Arctic circle metal.

konkurs

Mika Miko Mika Miko

So apparently Mika Miko is the reason most people find my blog. I'm cool with that. Here's one EP and one 7". They are both fantastic.

Mika Miko 666 EP (12")

Post Present Medium (2006)

Mika Miko S/T (7") 

Post Present Medium (2004)

Mein Comp

 Mein Comp 

Anarcho hardcore from the Bush era (yeah, we can say that now.) Let's not call it behind the times, let's just call it retro. But actually: this compilation is a lot of fun. 10 tracks of high energy, satirical punk--with titles like "Bush Licked" and "'mericuh." There are bits of Bush speeches scattered throughout so you can laugh at the good ol' days when Americuh was a nuculer superpower and Terxas was the divine Vaterland of cheap beer and illegal immigrants. The cover art is killer, and the one on the vinyl version can be removed and used as an anti-Bush stencil.

They misunderestimated me (Youth Attack, 2004)

Happy Wednesday

 Hijokaidan: Silver Machine

If you put the soundtrack to the Rocky Horror Picture Show through a trash compactor with a bunch of gerbils and some tacks.

Aerosols

Ok anyways Youth Attack has released some decent shit (notably Cult Ritual, Charm City Suicides, Raw Nerve, Veins...and a random No Age EP). I'm the first to admit I know next to nothing about hardcore and most of the time I don't really like it. However occasionally I get a craving for something faster, louder, and more vicious than your average noise punk or what have you--and that's where Aerosols step in and delivers lovely little LPs filled with pure, unrefined hardcore. 

This is the first full (self-titled) album by Aerosols, released in 2009 on Youth Attack. It's a mind numbing 19 tracks blurring into a mass of raw, grating sound and energy--and drops off as unexpectedly as it begins.  

Aerosols (12", Album, Cle + 7", S/Sided, Cle)

19 songs. 12.7 minutes.  

μ track time = 0.6684 minutes 

σ = 2.8358 minutes 

Aerosols in Brooklyn (obligatory BK beard shot, obvi) 

Puerto Rico Flowers Single: 3 Sisters

The new Puerto Rico Flowers single "3 Sisters", which came out on Valentine's Day is a taste of the full-length PRF album, 7, which will be released on Fan Death Records in May.
Puerto Rico Flowers is ex-Clockcleaner vocalist and guitarist John Sharkey III. The Last.fm page describes PRF's sound as "not unlike a skinhead crying." And indeed, PRF is a tranquil, wizened meditation on youth, love, and sexuality. Sharkey's unique sound is the product of synthesizers, drums, and bass--and his voice takes center stage. Anyone who knows Clockcleaner will understand the the extent to which PRF is pared down--and Sharkey's ability to craft such a multifaceted sound with so few tools is a testament to his talent as a musician.

Sharkey has described the upcoming album as "a record for women", which seemed a tad bit comic when I first heard it. However, what this entails is a complex question--and upon listening to his releases so far, and the aforementioned "3 Sisters", the description is actually quite apt. The genius of Puerto Rico Flowers is the seamless marriage of an aloof, post-punk sound reminiscent of Ian Curtis or Michael Gira, with a warm, sentimental, crooner style. The track "Let's Make Friends", off PRF's 12" 4, is a dark, unsettling anthem--a story of darkness and desperate, human physicality. The synthesizer we know as a hallmark of more synthpop outfits like New Order or Depeche Mode suddenly morphs into something astoundingly dark and perhaps sinister. "Voice of Love" off the 12" 2, is a sweeping lamentation, carried effortlessly by an unwavering drumline, as if marching towards the end of the universe. Whereas "Let's Make Friends" is a story of lust and illicit sensuality--"Voice of Love" is an allegory of aging, and the passing of time. The philosophical "Voice of Love" seems like the natural predecessor to "Let's Make Friends." The two songs tell a story, of the emotional and the physical, the sacred and the profane.

"3 Sisters" begins with a strong drumline typical of Sharkey's PRF compositions, fatalistic and unfaltering. "3 Sisters" takes the omniscient narrative voice of "Let's Make Friends" and weaves a complex story, descending deep into the murky realm of familial relationships, and the juxtaposition of humanity in the line It's only human for you to break down your eyes and inhumanity, You were not mine, it's so inhuman, but that's how it goes, yes that's how it goes. The lyrics of "3 Sisters" are perhaps Sharkey's best, and unlike the removed style of "Voice of Love", the vocals in "3 Sisters" are grittier and delve deeper into questions of human nature.

Puerto Rico Flowers is often described as "goth-rock," which, though fairly accurate in capturing the nihilistic elements of Sharkey's sound--glosses over the warmth and sentimentality subtly contained within his compositions, and does not take into account the context of PRF's existence. Puerto Rico Flowers is, in a sense, a meditation on transition, transformation, and the evolution of sound as an expression of changes in one's personal life. Whereas Clockcleaner was known for their boundary-pushing antics onstage and their provocative lyrics (covering topics from sleazy sex to daddy issues), Puerto Rico Flowers has a coolness and maturity..."post-punk" in the most literal sense. The change in sound from Clockcleaner to PRF is mirrored by changes in Sharkey's personal life--the birth of his son and settling down in Philadelphia. Sharkey has stated that Puerto Rico Flowers is his last release before he retires from the world of music. And this sense of completion is intrinsic to PRF's sound, a bittersweet concoction of regrets and aspirations, and a solemn but enchanting farewell.

The live performance of "3 Sisters" features Michael Berdan (formerly of Drunkdriver) playing the synthesizer and Michael Sneeringer on drums.

Discography 
4 (12") Fan Death Records (2010)
2 (7") Fan Death Records (2010)
The upcoming full length album "7" will be released on Fan Death Records in May, 2011.