BEST O' OH-NINE

Severely delayed, yes, I know, but life, as it is, tends to get in the way, so the holidays combined with various personal detours on the road to the grave bumped "blogging" down on my list of priorities just a smidge. But hey, new year, new attitude, GO TEAM.

So let's just get this out of the way:
ALBUM OF THE YEAR: Mount Eerie - Wind's Poem



Thank you, Phil Elverum, for giving me one of the only albums this year to immediately give me that warm, fuzzy feeling right from the outset that says "Calvin, you're going to live this." Wind's Poem had me at its buzzsaw 'hello' with "Wind's Dark Poem", took my hand and dragged me into its dense foggy flaming forest home. An absolutely blissful union of black metal aesthetic with folk sensibility, it's the dirty little crossover that Elverum's been flirting with for a while and finally decided to embrace, with really stunning results.

(Side note: what is it with sensitive folk musicians and their black metal? Owen Pallett rockin' a Mayhem shirt, John Darnielle's oft-mentioned love of metal, and one of my favourite local artists, Wyrd Visions, who is quite literally plays acousitc black metal (and even did a cover of "Freezing Moon".)

So yeah, there it is, my album of the year. You can sleep tight now. Unless you wanted to see something else in the ol' top-slot, in which case, maybe some honourable mentions will sate your lust:

LIGHTNING BOLT - Earthly Delights



"Skull-fuckingly heavy" feels like a bit of an understatment when talking about
Earthly Delights, but severed head gangbang lead-ski biathalon borders on silly. This one really took me by surprise, and could very well be my new favourite Lightning Bolt album. Crushingly focused and engagingly experimental, it's really an exhausting listen, but ridiculously satisfying. I fucking dare you to not bang your head when the drums come in on "Colossus".

Lightning Bolt - Colossus

NATURAL SNOW BUILDINGS - Shadow Kingdom



Yeah, ok, the cover is fairly hideous, and yeah, I'm a complete Natural Snow Buildings fanboy, but fuck, this is good, ok? Ok. Triple LP, double CD, comic-book... this thing is massive (and boy, was it priced accordingly). Maybe even a bit too big for its own good, but when the drones are as completely engulfing as these (see: "The Fall of Shadow Kingdom"), length is a bit of a moot point. Maybe not the best starting point for new fans, maybe not enough new to satisfy the grumpy old ones, but it's still an undeniably solid slab of thoughtful and charming (yeah, charming. Read the back of the comic, or listen to an interview with the band. Charming!) maelstorms.

RICHARD YOUNGS - Beyond the Valley of Ultrahits



I've already talked a length about how swell this album is, and whaddaya know, it survived the year and made it onto this list. Unfortunately released with a total pressing of less than 300, this is Youngs at his most overtly catchy and pop-oriented. Synth-heavy, layer-heavy, but positively skyward melodies. A depature, really, but which new Richard Youngs album isn't one?

LINK REMOVED. (but on the plus side, this is getting re-released!)

Part 2 coming much sooner than this part took to get here.

ALL TOMORROW'S PARTIES: PART ONE (Friday)

Feel free to skip the first couple of paragraphs; the meat of things starts below the personal back story, but if you wanna come along for the whole ride, go right on ahead, sailor.

The multi-day music festival is not something we really "do" here in Canada. We get some one-day things rolling through my neck of the woods (Virgin Festival, Warped Tour), but unfortunately, many of those one-day things all-day suck (Virgin Festival, Warped Tour). I remember reading through issues of Terrorizer (a British metal magazine (that is, about, not forged from, metal) in high school, and being absolutely floored at the weekend heavy metal camps, where European metalheads could congregate in a field out in Germany, bring a tent and some beer, and rock the fuck out for three days straight while an amazing line-up played from noon 'til dawn. Wacken, Bloodstock, Graspop... a dime a dozen over there.

As time went on, my tastes changed, but I was nonetheless jealous of the folks across the pond. How's this for an idea: take a really great band, have them pick a bunch of other really great bands, and have them all play over the course of a weekend? Bloody brilliant!, I'm sure they said over tea, adjusting monocles, etc. And so for many a year I was insanely jealous of the UK's musician-curated festival called All Tomorrow's Parties.

Eventually, ATP found it's way to North America, specifically New York, but actually specifically to Monticello, a nowhere town two hours from New York. And fuck, the line-ups were just as stellar and the whole experience sounded absolutely incredible.

So I went.

Earlier this summer, my girlfriend and I were browsing the line-up of old festivals, drooling and gawking and how cool would that be-ing. It would be so cool, it was decided. So a after a few extra shifts at work, some emails, some bus tickets, we set it up. September 10, we are leaving on a Greyhound bus from Toronto to New York, arriving the next day. Rad.

(At this point I will spare you the boredom of the 10+ hour bus ride, but just for the record: the new "extra leg room" Greyhound buses? Bullshit. They're uncomfortable as hell. The leg room is fine, but they went and fucked up the back and neck room, which made sleeping next to impossible.)

Unfortunately, due to Manhattan traffic and a missed transfer we missed The Drones playing Wait Long By The River and the Bodies of Your Enemies Will Float By. So I can't say much about that. Or anything, really.

The Feelies were up next and we were able to catch 80% of their set, wherein they performed Crazy Rhythms in its entirety. The jangly post-punk felt kind of flat on record, but the songs are definitely there, and live they absolutely nailed it. Super high energy for an album conceived almost 30 (!) years ago and a rock-solid performance. Here's hoping the reunion isn't just for touring.

Continuing the night's "Don't Look Back" agenda, where bands faithfully recreate entire albums live, Dirty Three (with Nick Cave on piano) did as much of Ocean Songs as they could fit into their one-hour set. Hyperdelicate post-rock doesn't normally translate into thrilling live show, but Warren Ellis was able to bust out all matter of kicks and jumps and wildly frontman-like behaviour all while cradling a violin and more than making up for his lethargic bandmates. Luckily, Cave's appearance didn't overshadow the material; his additions were subtle and tasteful, and the set was flawless. Definitely a highlight.

Suicide performing Suicide (as the ATP website affirmed, "their first LP", not actual suicide) was one of the main things that sealed my decision to make the journey to New York. Nothing short of legendary, the duo were wildly inventive for the late 70's; when punk was a guitar-bass-drum affair, Suicide worked as a duo, with drum machines and keyboards, with songs often being just an abrasive, industrial rhythm under half-singing punctuated with manic shrieks and bursts of noise. Now, 32 years later... things are bad. Real bad. A set list is one thing, but lyric sheets? For your own music? And having the sound guy read them was just sad. A deadpan roadie saying "Ghost rider. Motorcycle hero." into the microphone made me cringe. And so did Suicide themselves. It was like watching that drunken, creepy, "funny" uncle do Suicide karaoke at your family reunion. "Rocket USA" was especially embarrassing, as Alan Vega mumbled and groaned and generally showed his age. Admittedly things clicked a bit as the set went on, but it was still kind of... sad.

I never really got why everyone went apeshit over Panda Bear. Sure, Person Pitch was groovy, but it wasn't as mindblowing as you'd be lead to believe. Reverb-drenched minimal loops and Mr Lennox's soaring chorusy voice are lovely and all, but each song is just that on top of a creative sample, and it all becomes very samey very quickly. So live it's no surprise that the loops become more annoying (and unpleasantly bass-heavy) to the point of incoherency, the vocals do their normal Panda Bear thing, and the "show" consists of a man standing at a mess of wires in front of a projection for an hour. Monotonous, really.

David Cross did a funny, if extremely drunken, set, and I don't know what else to say about a comedian. He spoke well, I guess? Nice voice? Good jokes? He was a comedian, and he was funny. What more do you want?

I only caught about 10 minutes of The Jesus Lizard before being so impossibly tired I could not stand it, but much unlike Suicide, they seem to still be hauling ass despite their age. David Yow immediately found his way into the crowd, and right off the bat people/fists/feet/bottles were flying. Would've been a great time had I not been dead on my feet.


Stay tuned for parts 2 and 3... sometime. This is kind of a tedious thing to write. Is it tedious to read? Let me know.

The Big Gloom

Comparing bands to other bands is Cloud Strife-sized double edged sword with a greased hilt. On one hand, sure, it's the easiest way to sum up a band's sound, to say they sound like Band X, Band Y and if Band Z had a baby with Band A while Band C cut the umbilical cord, but it also seldom does justice to neither Bands X nor whatever band you're trying to talk about. So when everyone compared Have a Nice Life to Joy Division, My Bloody Valentine, and Sunn O))) among others (I think I heard Swans somewhere), I did my best not to immediately shit myself 5 times and die, because how on Earth could a band live up to those veritable legends?

Well, shit, they just about did.

And the only reason it's "just about" and not "absolutely" is because this is still a young group.

So, instead, maybe that should read shit, they fucking will.



Poor formatting and excessive curse words aside, this band truly does combine the best of all the aforementioned worlds. Joy Division's uncomfortably depressing lyrics, My Bloody Valentine's wall-of-sound, Swans' repetitive, hypnotic song-structure, Sunn O)))'s... ok, this comparison has always been kind of lost on me, but whatever. Throw that in with a vague black metal aesthetic (the non-ridiculous kind) and a healthy DIY spirit and even a sense of humour (keep up with the Enemies List twitter) and I swear this description is still not off base: Have a Nice are indeed all of that, quite handily.

Though I feel like I'm already falling into the negative-side of this comma-happy band roll call: Have a Nice Life are still a unique force, and not merely derivative of any of the aforesaid.

"Hey now", said the Blogosphere, "this band is old news, mate. Remember early 2008, when everyone went totally apeshit over Deathconsciousness?"

Yes, but there's plenty of reasons for things to get apeshittier (?) now: grab a copy of the recently-pressed Deathconsciousness 2xLP, complete with huge explanatory booklet. Why the hell hasn't this sold out yet? Do your thing, internet. Or if you want some instant gratification, stream the whole thing here and then download the just-released b-side/demo compilation Voids. Worth your time and hard drive space, pinky swear.

Alright, I'm going to quite my fanboy gushing now. Dismissed.

Zero sleep = zero insightful blog(ging)

Again, my schedule is taking a hit because of school; my poor time management skills meant I was up til roughly 4:30 am scrawling out an essay on art philosophy (Weitz vs Collingwood, for those keeping score at home.) Not to mention I'm at school from 7:30 am until 7:30 pm, so I've just got this quick apology on break before handing in my essay & sitting through a 3 hour lecture. So yeah, sorry folks; anything involving any remote creative effort will likely be... bad. See? I can't even come up with a clever way of telling you of the bad-ness.

Oh God, it's getting worse!

Here, how about something totally passive?
This is what my summer concert schedule is looking like so far, and seriously, it grows by the week. I'm incredibly excited, and you viewers at home can expect reviews of all of 'em.

May 16 - Animal Collective w/ Grouper
May 18 - Wolves in the Throne Room w/ A Storm of Light, Thrones, Krallice
May 21 - Unwigged & Unplugged: An Evening with Christopher Guest, Michael McKean & Harry Shearer
May 22 - MV+EE w/ Woods, $100
June 4 - Secret Chiefs 3 w/ Kayo Dot
June 7 - Isis w/ Pelican, Tombs
June 11- Do Make Say Think, Final Fantasy & Robert Lippok
June 13- Bell Orchestre
June 17- Patrick Wolf w/ Jaguar Love
June 18- Absu w/ Glorior Belli, Rumpelstiltskin Grinder, Sothis
June 20- Circle Takes the Square w/ Titan, Lords
July 10- Holy Fuck w/ Winter Gloves
July 11- Broken Social Scene & Explosions in the Sky w/ Apostle of Hustle, Thunderheist, & more!
July 16- Fucked Up w/ Women, Vivian Girls

HOLY SHIT.

Like an amplifier should

Yes, here it is, back on track, for now. Sorry if the next few entries don't match the exceedingly high standards I started out with, but I am sick and tired and busy with you've heard all this bullshit before get to the music goddamn.


If there's one thing I really do like when it comes to music, it's shoegaze. Terrifically loud, noisy, dense, occasionally poppy, and even the general aesthetic is just so damn cool. A little pretentious, maybe, a little ridiculous, sure, but those are words I'm totally comfortable associating myself with.

Holler, Wild Rose! sort of fall under this umbrella. Sort of, yeah. "Marylawn Hair" is My Bloody Valentine worship at it's finest, with that frankly glorious wavering synth wading through the mix. And "Holler, Wild Rose!" has a fantastic, almost post-rockish explosive intro. But instead of falling into fuzz-on-ten, reverb-on-eleven, three-two-one-LOOK-DOWN tedium, Our Little Hymnal is one of the most delightfully varied debut albums I've heard in a while (even if I am several years behind on this one... oops.)



From the flat-out, wall-of-geetar gaze sounds to surprisingly delicate acoustics to spirituals to tastefully done ambient interludes to whatever sort of "indie rawk" you wanna call it, it stays interesting and, more importantly, stays good. It's loud, it's soft, it's melodic, uplifting, heartfelt; wickedly solid record. They should have a new one coming out sometime soon, and the only thing out there besides this is the limited-to-200 Yarn EP. which is a nice little stopgap between albums.

I did my best to give you some representative tracks, but as always, if you think you'll dig the rest of 'em, throw some dollars at 'em.

Holler, Wild Rose! - Marylawn Hair
Holler, Wild Rose! - Sun Vines

Cover version extravaganza! Part one.

I basically wrote this just so I can share what has become one of my favourite covers ever, but then decided it could (potentially) become a nifty idea to come back to in future entries (i.e., when I am too lazy to do something original (woah, meta.)

The cover song is a funny thing. It used to be the primary type of single in the early days of the music industry, where songs by black musicians would be stolen, reworked (and usually totally pussied-up) and performed by white groups, earning ridiculous sums of money for zero effort. Now, it's not quite as common for a band's biggest hit to be a cover (lol Gary Jules), but what's most alarming is that a discomforting amount of modern covers are not recognized as covers by the [dang ol'] kids these days [who won't git off my lawn]. I cringe when I think of how many 14 year old girls think My Chemical Romance wrote "Desolation Row."

However, the "cover" can also be fascinating when a band completely reworks a song and actually makes it their own; it's a fantastic way of paying tribute to an influence. And these are the types of covers I will be presenting.

Today's pick is "Only Shallow" by Nadja, song originally by My Bloody Valentine (but you knew that, right?) Both bands are known for their huge wall-of-guitar sound, with mouldy molasses-thick fuzz, barely-there vocals and just generally loud-as-fuck all-consuming soundscaping. I imagine a brief bio of the coveree would be superfluous to most of y'all, but regarding the coverer: Nadja are a drone/doom duo comprised of Aidan Baker and Leah Buckareff based right here in Toronto (ok, right there in Toronto since I'm technically in a different city) and are, hands down, the most prolific drone-duo the city has ever seen (an oft challenged position, no doubt.) Not only do they have a fucking absurd amount of releases in an amazingly short amount of time, but they are almost unanimously high-quality.



With regards to the cover, I can't think of a band more fitting to cover thee almighty My Bloody Valentine (except maybe A Place to Bury Strangers). You can tell Nadja are deeply indebted to them, and their cover is a brilliant tribute. In a truly Nadjian move, the tempo has been halved; the [pseudo-]iconic opening drum roll of the song is slowed to a lazy pace, with the guitars and keyboard following suit. However, the slower speed works stunningly well here. Combined with the thousands of overdubs and no less than 5 fuzz pedals turned up to 12 (all figures are estimates), it proves to be even dreamier and more ethereal than the original. Completely mesmerizing, and completely worth the time for fans of either band, or folks who can dig a nice shoegaze tune in general.

Nadja - Only Shallow

Hey, whaddaya know, these cats just put out a whole record of covers. As always, buy what you like.

With Throats As Fine As Needles

Cool recording techniques, to my knowledge, always yield cool albums. Set Fire to Flames set up a bunch of equipment in a condemned house for a week with a whole lot of drugs to see what would happen, and put out the stellar Sings Reign Rebuilder. Sunn O))) set up shop in an old Norwegian cathedral to do Domkirke and churned out some of the best material of their decade-long existence (chiefly "Why Dost Thou Hide Thyself In Clouds?"). With Throats As Fine As Needles formed a four-man drone supergroup (featuring members of Nether Dawn and Birchville Cat Motel), then holed up in an abandoned bunker with portable instruments in a concept that, on paper, pretty much makes my dick explode.



Luckily the dick-explosion pretty much carries though on to record, too. (Wait, "luckily"...?) As one would could guess based on the talents involved in this project and the circumstances they put themselves in, this is abrasive, varied, noisy, and hugely reverbed stuff. It's all very layered and extremely dense, with so much shit going on it can't help but meld together into some blissed-out drone grooooooves, man. Especially the first track, where it feels like all four of them are going full bore and it comes off sounding like a much more evil Vibracathedral Orchestra or Natural Snow Buildings (both of which are terrible comparisons at face value, but imagine each of them were... locked in a bunker with battery-powered instruments.)

The packaging for this thing is swell too, with a hand-dyed rice (?) paper sleeve, so I'm assuming each of these is going to be unique. Less than 999 copies left, so get it while you can.

With Throats As Fine As Needles - I
With Throats As Fine As Needles - II

Black metal ist kalt

Metal is fucking ridiculous. You know, I know, metal fans know it. I don't mean this in a negative way, but it's really fucking ridiculous. Power metal is fantastically whimsical, death metal is laughably brutal, and thrash metal is practically a cartoon.

But nothing whatsoever can match black metal (bolded for emphasis/grimness.) The attitude, the aesthetic, the fashion...
hell, it almost feels as style-conscious as the "scene/emo/whateverthefuck" 'movement'. It's gotta be grim, it's gotta be frostbitten, it's gotta be so invertedly necro and recorded in your basement onto a limited edition tape that if it isn't, you're a fucking poser so go listen to Job For a Cowboy you fucking gay-ass poser scum FUUUUUUUUCKKKKK HOLY SHIT I HATE YOU YOU SUCK SO MUCH.

(Admittedly, this fervour has died down somewhat in recent times; acts like Darkthrone and Satyricon are looking more like angry old men then costumed servants to Satan, and newer bands like Nachtmystium and Wolves in the Throne Room look downright friendly.)

Nonetheless, this sort of attitude means a lot of black metal is shitty, sloppy, aimless, indistinct, blast-beaten nonsense. So when bands come along and try something new, something a little more grandiose, with a little more thought and a little more effort (well, make it a lot more), a lot of people absolutely lose their shit (see: Deathspell Omega, Wolves in the Throne Room, etc.) However, one of my favourite black metal releases in the last few years (and, in fact, one of my favourite metal releases) is just well-written straight-up black metal: no keyboards, no female vocals, no extended ambient passages. Fucking I.C.E.



Imperial Crystalline Entombment, comprised of Mammoth, Blizzzard, IceSickKill and Bleak (yes, really), are pretty much a pure black metal ensemble hailing from the frostbitten fjords of Waldorf, Maryland ("pure" meaning guitar + bass + drums + vokills, not "pure" in the Aryan, National Socialist Black Metal way(see: Gestapo 666, Slave Whipping Blasphemy, etc.) What sets them apart is that they actually put noticeable time and effort into songwriting. There are choruses, there are vocals, there are hooks, and they do it all without dipping into "melodic black metal" territory. The lyrics are a tongue-in-cheek (?) story about the coming of Ravaskeith, and his bringing of an apocalyptic end in white. While the subject matter is ridiculous (word of the day!) and the lyrics not particularly deep/meaningful, they are written with... get this... metre and rhyme. The syncopation of the vocals and the rhyming does wonders when it comes to making a memorable, satisfying experience.

Mammoth rise in winter guise,
Take this child to the frozen side,
Empty human born of flesh,
Throw him, to the cold white death!

Buy it if you like it.

M4As, sorry:
I.C.E. - Hypothermic Possession
I.C.E. - Cascade Cavern Catharsis

Ghosts will come and kiss our eyes

If I had a dollar for every band that "features members of Godspeed You! Black Emperor", I'd probably have at least twelve dollars. A Silver Mt Zion is the obvious choice, then we've got Set Fire to Flames, Fly Pan Am, Exhaust, 1-Speed Bike, Black Ox Orkestar, Molasses, etc, etc. Not to say I dislike Godspeed (actually quite the opposite), nor do I dislike many of the side projects, but it just feels like they're goddamn everywhere.

One such project I ignored for far too long was HRSTA (spelled with little dots below the RST, but who has the time to do that?), featuring Mike Moya (ex-Godspeed, lolz) and, perhaps more excitingly, Brooke Crouser (Jackie-O Motherfucker (note to self: do blog on Jackie-O Motherfucker.)



Moving away from the grandeur of the former and the folksy noisefuck of the latter, HRSTA are sort of a middle ground between the two extremes (to underwrite everyone involved in this comparison.) This is a superbly atmospheric record, with all matter of organs and related instruments providing minor-chord drones while the reverb-y/tremeolo'd-to-hell-and-back guitar lines wrap their way around them (or is it the other way around..?); and, of course, Moya's vocals fit perfectly, and whatever little couplets of lyrics you can decipher are wonderfully creepy, too. His voice reminds me of Mehdi Ameziane from Natural Snow Buildings, and, at times, even of Thom Yorke's more restrained moments (a la Kid A, natch.)

As always, support the band whenever you can.

HRSTA - Entre la mer et l'eau douce
HRSTA - The Orchard

Comus rape, Comus break, sweet young virgin's virtue take!

It's always a pleasant surprise when the most interesting and experimental bands you can find were actually active 40 years ago. Such was the case when I stumbled upon Comus roughly over a year ago. A tragically short lived and largely-membered group of musicians from the UK who released one of the most "out-there" albums of the early (early early) 70's, First Utterance. Seriously, it is difficult to conceive that must like this was released in 1971, and even harder to imagine it was conceived 2-3 years before that. HOLY SHIT.



It's sort of hard to describe, but imagine a group of medieval minstrels on LSD on acid playing some sort of proto-freak folk (in the sense that this is freaky and it is folky, not in the sense it's that made-up genre people sometimes label Animal Collective as.) Thematically, the song varies in themes from rape to more rape to torture to rape and torture (to the oddly out-of-place celestially-themed prog-rock wankery of "The Herald", which is probably a metaphor for rape (i.e. "flutes", etc.)

None of this would really be half as interesting as it is if it weren't for Roger Wootton vocal style, which ranges from yelping to screaming to warbling to sometimes actual singing; definitely download "Song to Comus" to see what I mean, because it really makes the songs extra-special. EXTRA SPECIAL.

Most exciting of all and most extra special is that the band recently announced a goddamn reunion after a 35-ish year split. I will donate any part of my body (you hear that, Comus? Any part.) for a Toronto date. Please.

Comus - Diana
Comus - Song to Comus

Comments are always appreciated. Tell me what you like, what you don't, want you want more or less of, or send me some recommendations or anything. And if you wanna link to me, I'll link to you. No homo.

My holy bones are best for breaking.

I don't think I can throw enough "crossover"s or "post-"s into a genre description to make This Song Is A Mess But So Am I communicable in just words. Experimental-electro-noise-crossover? Harsh post-dance with industrial influence? -core?

This was a project started by Freddy Ruppert after the death of his mother, so as one can imagine, this album follows a frantic sort of emotional roller coaster. That being said, the variety works surprisingly coherently: from straight-up noise ("God and Cancer") to straight-up dance ("Song for Donna Ruppert") to acoustic experimentation ("High Fives for Jamie") to creep-rock ("Bones Bones Bones") to God knows what they are all tied together quite nicely, by both Ruppert's distinctive voice and the subject(s) at hand.



What really sets this apart from other experimental electronica, and in fact, most music as a whole is the passion behind this record. Every note and every word is absolutely meant which is far more than you can say for a distressingly large percentage of current artists. We're talking a pg.99 level of feeling here.

Appropriately, this project was laid to rest after it had run its course for Mr. Ruppert, at which time he graciously made all the project's material free for download. I'm still going to put up a couple MP3s in case you aren't quite ready to commit to a whole .zip file.

Since you can't support this band, give his new band, Former Ghosts a listen.

This Song Is A Mess But So Am I - God and Cancer
This Song Is A Mess But So Am I - Bedridden and Dancing



Is it just me or was this entry not as well-done as my others? Something feels off.

A Trap For Judges (& a schedule for blogs (this one (now every Monday and Thursday)

Doesn't it seem like the more "extreme" a genre gets (in any direction, i.e. extremely harsh or minimal or whatever), the more it has to do to be interesting? Noise, drone, ambient... all fairly interchangeable and indistinct, for the most part. There is simply only so much you can do with white noise/single-digit BPM/holding down a C on your Korg. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy all the aforementioned genres, but it's very easy to get burnt out and jaded with it all.

My first drone experience was, as it is for most people, with Sunn O))) (unless you're uber-tr00 and listened to Earth.) I didn't quite "get it", again, as it is with most people. Not that didn't understand, per se: I was a fan the Melvins' doomier, proto-drone, dirgey, [ominous-sounding-D-word] material, especially "Hag Me" off of Houdini. But what the fuck was with Sunn O)))? Ten minutes long, no discernible "riff", no nothin' as far as I was concerned. Admittedly, I was 15 and was much more interested in death/black/thrash at the time, so I probably wasn't in the best frame of mind.

A couple years later, when Black One came out, I (NOTE: this is not a blog about Sunn O))) and this story is indeed going somewhere, but feel free to skip this paragraph if you want to get to the meat and potatoes of this thing.) decided to pick it up and give the band another chance, especially since this album had a number of guests and seemed to be a fairly varied album. Which it actually was. Oren Ambarchi, John Wiese, Wrest and Malefic (of Leviathan and Xasthur, respectively) doing vocals HOLY SHIT. And it worked: almost every track stood out. The tremolo riff (riff?!) in "It Took The Night to Believe", the goddamn netherwordly screams in "Cursed Realm (Of the Winterdemons)", and, perhaps my favourite, the huge harmonics in "Cry for the Weeper." Drone could be more glacial paced guitar sludge, and I'm doing my best to come up with a "it only took me the night to believe in the genre" sort of joke, but I can't.

So with a newfound interest in the genre, I set out to see what other "experimental" drone I could find. Boris's unpredictable, everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach; Earth's sun-baked southern doom; Asunder's monolithic funeral dirges. And, just recently, I have discovered, perhaps, the crown jewel of them all (ok, aside from Boris, but they're not really drone, ya know?): Asva.



What You Don't Know Is Frontier is absolutely massive. Oppressive, haunting, ethereal... every buzz word you use when talking about drone applies here, the only difference being these words actually mean those things now.

More than anything, it's the simple things on the album that are most effective. As I'm sure you can tell from the pictures, these are slightly more mature doom merchants, but it really does show. Take, for instance, the organ (keyboard? Synth?) in the opening title track. This is what takes it beyond most other drone. It's very basic but goddamn if it doesn't unlead this nightmare fuel.

The highlight of this album (not just for me, but for everyone, it seems, according to Last.fm , too) is undoubtedly "A Game In Heaven, Hard Work In Hell." Words aren't going to do much for this one, but let's say it starts of very droney (surprise!), builds with some eerie, indistinct female vocals before, out of completely nowhere, fucking bulldozes you with a glacier made of onyx and hate. I don't really want to ruin the track actually, because I do hope you'll shit yourself the same way I did when I first spun this record. Shit yourself with pure awesome.

I encourage you to buy this record if you like what you hear. The band, like a lot of people, have been affected by the current economic situation, and because of lack of money had to cancel a European tour scheduled for next month. Buy it straight from the band, cut out as much of the middleman as you can.

Asva - A Game In Heaven, Hard Work In Hell

Holy hell, I am slow with updates.

Even though an overwhelming 3 people read my last entry, I am compelled to do another one. Sorry it took so long, all of you cats waiting for a new 'un; school, work, etc, etc. You know how it is.

Anyways, not too long ago I was able to track down a vinyl copy of Half-Eaten Guitar by Wyrd Visions. The LP was released some 2 years ago to only 350 copies, and I was able to find one brand new at Rotate This which made me sort of sad that it hadn't sold out. Then again, I first heard this chap back in October when he opened for Mount Eerie, so I shouldn't be chastising anyone's laziness regarding this record.



I don't know quite how to classify what Colin Bergh does under this moniker. I mean, sure, it's acoustic, that's a start; it's not exactly folk, mind you. Black metal? Ergh... yeah, actually. Acoustic minimalist black metal? Post-black metal? Fuck it.

Live, these songs are all done through an extensive loop pedal work out, and it feels the same on record: layers and layers of fairly simply phrases. The "riffs", if they may be called such, are undeniably black metal, just slowed down and played sans buzzsaw distortion. His cover of Mayhem's "Freezing Moon" really puts it all into perspective, and then you notice the ultra br00tal crescent moon/inverted cross artwork... the pink throws you off, don't it? And you wouldn't think the innocently titled "Air Conditioning" would be a full-on distortion black metal piece a la [Burzum's] "The Crying Orc", but there you go.

Anyway, if you can focus for a period of time longer than 5 minutes, give this track a listen and then buy the album (the CD is still in print.)

Wyrd Visions - Bog Lord

Back in the saddle with The Black Vase

Yeah, it's been a while. How've you been in the last... year and a half? Good? Good. I've decided that Facebook notes aren't quite the proper outlet for writing about the things I write about, mostly because the things I write about aren't things my Facebook friends particularly care to read about. So here you are, my wider audience, and maybe some of you cats can dig what's going on here.

Despite the blog title, I don't really have a particular theme going on, or, in fact, any rhyme or reason behind what I post outside of the fact that it's something I like. And if you like it too (or dislike), you should drop me a comment or somesuch thing.

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Prurient is the moniker under which Dominick Fernow creates a shitload of noise (to be eloquent, of course), which mostly lands on the "harsh" side of the genre (as opposed to "gentle" noise, I suppose?) Which, for the uninitiated, means that some of these frequencies will likely, at proper levels, damage hearing and kill dogs (possibly. Probably.) Seriously, though, crank the volume way the hell down for "Roman Shower", the scathing 15-minute endurance test that opens Black Vase. I am by no means a conisseur of the noise genre, so perhaps I "don't get it", but I can see no point to this opener other than to sort out those who will not stick around for the next 50 minutes.



However, for those who can brave the (literally) piercing first track, what lies ahead is one of the few albums in the genre that can actually hold my interest. Ironically, in a genre that has pushed music to its very outer limit, to where music arguably ceases to even be "music" in any traditional sense of the word, most of it feels painfully samey and boring. You can only listen to so many kids running a distortion pedal through a loop until even walls of scathing white noise become yawn-inducing, much the same way death metal becomes hilariously pedestrian when every single band is doing their best be the extreme opposite of that.

But this is where Prurient comes in and makes noise that feels as if it has purpose, direction, meaning: as if he knows he is still a musician and still writes songs. Of course these terms are all still used with regards to noise and not traditional music, so when I say direction, I don't mean in the sense of "Godspeed You! Black Emperor slowly winding up some explosive climax after 10 minutes of hazy meandering", but more like "an explosive climax on a scrambled porn channel, all colours distorted and organs miscoloured but the last 10 minutes of hissing moans did lead to a static money shot." Various tribal drum beats all reverb'd to hell and feedback sirens/controlled squeals seem to direct the underlying/overlaying noise, with Fernow's indescernable static screams belting out some barely-there lyrics about S&M, rape, and all matter of such material that would make de Sade proud:

Show me how it's done
Open me up
Make me lick it up
Replace my air

Anywho, I've rambled enough. These tracks are .m4as, and for that I am terribly sorry; I will do my best to make future posts in mp3. k? k.

Prurient - Silver Flashlight
Prurient - Soft Crack


Comments always appreciated.

popping that blogspot cherry

The whole point of this blog is to share with you music I've come across that I like. I suppose it's sort of a masturbatory practice in a way, but hey, you'll get some new, rockin' and, above all, free tunes.

So I'm going to start this off with the artist from whom I stole the URL, Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti. Essentially, this Ariel Pink chap is the only person on Animal Collective's Paw Tracks label not directly involved with Animal Collective. All of his recordings are done on an 8 track (on his own, I believe) and as such have a very lo-fi sound, to the point where you will wonder how on Earth this man not only got signed, but signed to a large enough label that you can indeed find his albums at a good HMV (although $15 overpriced, mind you, but a feat nonetheless). But under all the layers of tape-crack and hiss are absolutely brilliant pop songs. Imagine if some demented pop-songwriter lived in a cave two doors down from your room, kickin' out the jams loud enough for you to get some distant taste of the utter genius going on.

This one's from an album called The Doldrums, arguably one of his lesser "accessible" albums, but at the same time his best. Give it a chance & try to get past the recording quality.

Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - Good Kids Make Bad Grown Ups