M. Geddes Gengras - Smoke Blower (Stunned Records CS)

Another Stunned one, this time from muckraker M. Geddes Gengras, who doubles as a member of Antique Brothers, founder of Green Machines studios and drummer for Robedoor. Not that any of those memberships could really prepare you for this, as here Gengras presents two sides of totally zonked instrumental lurch. I mean, it's called Smoke Blower... what did you expect?

Whatever smoke is being blown here though, it's far more potent than your average bong rip. This stuff is so gone it's tough to return back once you've gone through it. Each side presents one long track, the first being the title number, and if there were ever a more apt name than it would be tough to come by. Everything here is slow as can be, drifting about and lurching with thick rounded drones waving about above the city sounds of airplane flybys and metal on concrete. Totally weird and pretty singular in the mix of your expected L.A. squishiness with some totally borderline industrial screech and leech. Seriously, this stuff is off on some beach far in the recesses of your skull, total go nowhere drift. Only it does go somewhere, so that's not really fair, though the places it goes are hardly tangible enough to feel like "somewhere." There's a warmth here that's really special, hovering barely between noise techniques and something else, something new and strange and, dare I say, fun to partake in. Pretty clear there are fairly few tools at work here too, which lends it a spaciousness that allows you to fully sink your teeth in and have a gnaw at the root itself. Or the glitched out voltage of some spliced chord. Eventually the whole thing fritzes out and its a frenzy of guitar shards and drone that fall far afield of either doom moves or standard drone procedure. Really interesting space engaged here.

Of course the following side/track has a lot to live up to here, and Gengras manages to maintain the same fascinating realms without rehashing the ideas presented on the first side. This time around the track is called "Tree Trimmer," though this ain't no Yule time festivity for sure. Or maybe it is, but not in the family friendly oeuvre that one might initially suppose. Gengras opens with some clattering percussion and a thick and blown out bass rhythm that just kinda hangs out, wreaking havoc on your inner ear and your cerebral cortex while those little pitter patters dance about light as air. Weird and heady vibes for sure, continuously threatening to expand but never got getting there. Sheets of desert high end begin shooting out every now and then as the whole thing takes on this nearly dubby vibe, albeit a dub played in the middle of Death Valley, noon, June, with no H2O and plenty of 'dro. Really a mind splicer and a new aesthetic feel in its own way. Really lo-fi but also sun-bleached white. Another winner from Stunned, and it seems people have already caught on cause the label's out. Sure you can find it at the usual distro spots though, Tomentosa, etc. A big release and one that might even sneak its way on to some year-end lists should the right ears find it. Hell, if I did a year-end list, my ears might well be the right ears.

Sean McCann - Phylum Sigh (DNT Records CS)

As I mentioned below, double duty on the McCann factor today, which is totally fine by me any day, but these two were such pleasure to go through I figured I'd do them back to back with no regrets whatsoever. This time around it's McCann on DNT, with a cute little doggy on a couch on the cover. While that might not connote anything too outrageous, the tape may even be trippier than the Stunned, with a greater emphasis on electronic blips and pseudo techno effects fiddling.

This can be seen from the outset on the first track, "Betazoid," which careens back and forth in electronic bliss, waters a bubblin'. Totally weird stuff here, endlessly aimless and drifting, but beneath all the murk you can here the soft tingling of banjo strings or the bass bellow of some distant organ line. Endlessly complex and really tough to get a handle on, this is stuff that avoids any overt genre and is just plain exciting. More than that though, it's also highly emotive. "Sunk Eyes" has drowning string gestures and laser tones flitting about in a surprisingly tough tugger of the heart strings. Beautiful. Or dig "Ice Age Tea," which takes the longing sounds of the previous track and opts to send them into some mental sink hole of bright colors and summer thunders.

The second side has five tracks, and with that many angles squished into so little a space you'd think that not much would be possible, but McCann says so much from the outset that he really doesn't have to get that far to make his presence known. The opener, "Mango Christmas," lets loose from the outset with haunting vocal moves and decaying chatter above a highly rich and amorphous bubbling synth. "Meaningless Desire" gets a bit more deranged as Dolphins into the Future sounds bounce around above some saw blade string bows and warbling atmospheres. I could go on and on, especially seeing how this tape is VAST. Super long and totally fulfilling. You know the deal, every release this guy does is better than the last and these two are no exception, presenting some of the best work I've heard from him yet. Also, keep your eyes peeled for Sean's own label, Roll Over Rover, and their new batch of stuff coming up. It looks like it should be another killer one for sure.

Sean McCann - Frame of Mind (Stunned Records CS)

A couple Sean McCann tapes up today that I've been waiting to cover for a bit, as each one is represented by two of my favorite labels, Stunned and DNT. Figured I'd start out with the Stunned as there's a bunch of Stunned to get through and I'd love to try and hit them all before they're all sold out from source, though that's been happening faster and faster these days. Nice to know that people are finally catching on to the action over there, and especially that a lot of people seem to just be getting it all (judging by the out of stock bonus by The Doglands, also soon to be reviewed here), which is the right move every time over there.

Anyway, when I heard Stunned was putting out another Sean McCann release. The first on Stunned, Sway, seems to have been a catalyst somewhat in McCann's well-deserved cred, but this follow up may be even better. If McCann has proven anything of late, it's that he can blow minds in all modes, and this tape is no exception. Opening with the title track, a blend of bowed strings and drone that soon dissolves into battered rhythms and odd spaces, McCann sets out running here, and the results are as carefully constructed and gorgeous as one could hope. Really some next level stuff. While a lot of people seem to be getting into the new age drone vibe these days, McCann keeps it interesting through his distinctive voice and instrumentation, as his bowed banjo emits snippets of Oriental waterlily ballads while the thudding string tugging and skittering electronic sequencing entrap the center and allow it to breathe easy.

Another aspect of McCann's expertise lies int he quality of the recordings themselves, which are treated as carefully as the music insinuates. So many people working in this world have a major jones for lo-fi murky drone, and really it's tough to not love it, but while a project like Skaters benefits from that aesthetic, allowing each sound to blend into the other in a propelling momentum, McCann's calls for a clearer production that allows every detail of his sound to come through. The following "Slight Manner," also with drifting strings and drone, is as crisp and illuminated as the sounds within. With each instrument as audible as it is, the different pockets of detail found over the course of a number of listens is exponentially increased. The feel is as vibrant and gentle as the sounds themselves.

The second side divides itself between three tunes that further explore the depths McCann creates. The first, "Bending Through," opens with a glistening electronic line that phases in and out above thick, aired out bass. It is absolutely immense and beautiful, soon slipping into an odd song of sorts, with drums and clatter carrying the piece forward. Not so much cosmic as its sounds might entail, the piece always sounds grounded in some sense, remaining that much more captivating for it. There's almost an Animal Collective / Black Dice vibe to this, only without any of the self-consciousness. "Colors" follows with another mini tune that eventually winds up leading (or should I say swaying) into the closing "Homeroom," whose vocal croons and lazy percussion evoke the tropical vibe everyone seems to be seeking these days, only in a far more dense and nostalgic way than most pull off. It's a beautiful tape, and of course beautifully packaged and (yeah!) still available from Stunned, so go grab two!

Magnetic North Duo - Static Fields Forever (Tape Drift CD-R)

Alright, on a role here. This one's another one from the last batch of Tape Drift releases and, brief though it may be, its a real burner. Made up of Nils Rostad on guitar and Sindre Bjerga on bass, electronics and tape, the duo weaves a carefully crafted drone sound that moves beyond a mere flushing out of textures and toward a kind of active improvisation, albeit one marked by pointed moves over extended pools of sound.

The disc opens with a murky vocal sounding drone, but soon Rostad's guitar enters, contributing a highly interactive and rich feel. Long tones are quick motives are stretched across the space in a Loren Connors-esque reinterpretation of the blues, albeit even more abstracted and spare. There is a folk-infused feel here that contributes to a real earthiness in the drones and odd spaces unearthed by Bjerga, whose cautious presence is appreciated; it would be far too easy for the droning to exist as continuous backdrop to Rostad's playing, which could be detrimental to the feel of the work as a whole. Instead, Bjerga's entrances are notable and integral to the dialogue itself, adding punctuation and atmosphere that both engage with and serve as opposition to the consistent tonal warmth of Rostad.

By the end, the piece has moved little in the way of general shape, but there is certainly a journey intrinsic to the disc. Moving away from the spare interplay, Rostad's guitar does in fact get tougher and there is an aggression exuded that feels logical after the brooding opening. At only 25-minutes in length the piece, a debut for the duo, serves as a fine appetizer, ending up in a fragile jangling end that answers no questions. Of course this means that there must be more to come, and that can't be anything but a good thing. A group to keep an eye on, I only wish there were more.

Ashtray Navigations - Sugar Head Record (Deep Water 2XCD-R)

Here's another twofer from Deep Water Acres, this time courtesy of Phil Todd's endlessly productive Ashtray Navigations project. Seriously, this dude releases so music its unheard of, and the consistency of his output is ridiculous. This one presents only three tracks over its two discs, meaning that the name of the game is, as per usual with this scenario, extended psychedelic improv. Yet Todd always seems to fill every crevice that that term can suggest every time out, and he moves just as unerringly here.

The first disc presents only one track, an hour long soup called "Sugar Head Music with Sines." Starting off nice and slowly, the piece gradually builds, mixing droning raga-style moves with delaying percussion and guitar lines. Todd always takes his time with his creations, making sure to keep things moving by hitting a variety of zones on his way to mental mud. As shuddering pulses undulate beneath, his guitar continues its frayed momentum, catalyzing itself toward some unknown end. There's actually a remarkable consistency presented here, as the undercurrent never seems to waver no matter what is being soloed on atop. Not that not wavering requires not changing of course; the drones are constantly shifting and creating new gaps for Todd to fill, making the general form of the piece much more about a vertical textural change than any goal-oriented journey. Odd dripping vocals, pittering electronic squishes, everything here is designed for maximum submersion into the mind and murk of Phil Todd's mind.

The following disc splits the bill between "Orange Matter Custard" and "Toilet Training," though "Orange Matter Custard" clocks in at only 8 minutes compared to the near 45-minute barrage of "Toilet Training." Still, it makes its presence known in its comparatively short discourse as washes of static tone are meshed into guitar squall that is so heavily enshrouded by white noise that its tough to pick anything apart. Only about halfway through does the beast reveal its head, and the result is a psychedelic mash of guitar and noise in a sound unlike anyone beside Todd. With such a big noise coming from one person, you wouldn't think he'd feel the need to enlist the help of Crowley and Legard on "Toilet Training," but their presence hardly confuses the proceedings. Rather they sit squarely on the same page as Todd, each member resting comfortably on one sound or instrument for some time. Beginning with a high-end drone and a harp-like string fluttering, the piece slowly glides forward into the mist before descending entirely into a wash of tonal echoes. Really impossible to cover it all here, though the name of the game on this track seems to be a general move from creepy pseudo-haunted drone and less frightening raga psychedelia. Another impressive one from Todd and co. and a nice little package courtesy of Deep Water. Though Ashtray Navigations looks good in pretty much anything, wouldn't you say?

Ghost Moth - Sealand Fortress (House of Alchemy CD-R)

Here's another one from House of Alchemy's Adam Richards, whose Chapels project has been getting much attention from this here camp lately. Adam sent me this a bit ago and I've been meaning to get around to it so, of course, now's the time. Actually though, my interest in this project goes back way further when i first got into Graveyards and the prospect of any unit with sax and electronics was suddenly mind-blowingly exciting. While Ghost Moth is no Graveyards, they do have their own sound as well as the added benefit of amply talented saxophonist Daniel Carter on their side.

Other than Carter, whose a real free jazz force in groups like Test (killer unit if you don't know it... seek out their Live recording on Eremite--not to be missed), the trio also features the prepared guitar and synth of Todd Brooks and the synth and tape work of Robbie McDonald. With this kind of backing, Carter's not so much working against accompaniment so much as throwing himself into a maelstrom of tattered industrial wreckage, only to see what comes out the other side.

The album consists of only one twenty-five minuteish track documenting one show that seems to be a benefit of sorts for the aptly named Sealand, a sovereign nation off the coast of Great Britain. Remarkably the recording doesn't sound half bad considering it was recorded to a cell phone. Somehow though, Carter's sax sounds rich and clear in the mix of muddied blurts and blasts which careen along through most of the piece. About halfway through, things take a turn towards the slow side, but never get close to being as airy and empty as a unit like Graveyards, if only because Carter's playing is so nimble and, not surprisingly, energetic. This gives the event a real momentum, driving the sound forward with the vibe of a free blowing session. It's a swell sound, and one fairly far removed from a lot of material that approaches this style without the aid of a true jazz pro. Carter's sax bellows and squeals throughout, which fits quite snugly next to the glitching electronic clatter. A nice one, and a beautiful package to boot. Still available from H.O.A. HQ as well.

Enfer Boreal - The Way of the Masks (Tape Drift CD-R)

Alright, I've been waiting to get around to these for too long now but I finally have a minute (nay, a summer!) to cover all the stuff I've been unable to because of this senior project. Well, it's done, meaning that I'm officially done with school (at last...) and can focus on little more than tunage until the start of next year, when the tables are turned and the student becomes the teacher. Weird...

Figured I'd start the Tape Drift batch with this one from Enfer Boreal, whose stuff I suddenly received a ton of in a super short period of time. Not that I'm complaining. Primault's stuff is totally great and each time out he seems to make a point of not rehashing the same tricks. Perfect example can be found here, as the last review I did of his work was the ultra stark 3" on Centre of Wood. This time out though, Primault gets way fuller and more zoned in no time, as "Le Tomebeau Hindou" starts things out with a quick jaunt through guitar delay drone before slipping into a realm of fritzing electronic harshities and head-knodding undulations. Far more overtly zonked than most of his material, with little of the dreamy vibe I usually associate with his output. Instead this is just 20-minutes of fried and dried fever sleep, albeit with a distinct sense of pace and construction. No matter the sounds used, the approach remains constant, and Boreal's works always have a logical progression throughout, no matter how hellish the vibes may be. Still though, this a pretty thick bath of static wash that serves to cleanse the palette for the white, electrical line hum that catalyzes some expansive excursions later in the track before it once more evaporates into vapor toward the end.

Combined, the other four tracks barely eclipse the length of the first one, which is fine considering the vast reach of the initial blast. "Les Morts Dansaient Avec Nous," the shortest one, is a deep sink hole of goner zones, with bomb threat sirens riding overhead beneath apocalyptic synth moves beneath. Not exactly the pat on the back you expected after the first track, but then again neither is "Le Dixieme Ciel," whose submerged guitar wrangling and vocal barbarism mix with some rusty swingsets to create an eerie vibe made more so by the presence of a fragile beauty just underneath the torment. The closing "Zero Infini" only serves to seal the deal, exploring more of the same bleak streaks of odd metallic grind above tinkling, barely-there high end. The cave dripping circuitry of its mid-section gently moves it toward the delayed guitar work that closes the album, thankfully, on a sunnier side of sorrow. Unexpectedly dark form for this project, and thus further proof that Primault's the real deal. This kind of range means that Primault's always one to watch. Another winner as always from Eric's Tape Drift!

ÆRA - To the Last Man / Index of Dreaming (Faith Strange 2XCD)

And also in from Brainwashed:

A new approach (or at least moniker) for orchestramaxfieldparrish's Mike Fazio, this album presents two separate discs, each individually named, for a double dose of dark and moody ambience as rendered by Fazio's nearly neo-classical approach. Long though it may be, there is enough depth to the material here that suggests numerous listens, yet it is also bare enough that it is just as suitable as background accompaniment, albeit to a consistently grim undertaking.

The first disc, To the Last Man, features a lengthy presentation of seven pieces each exploring a similarly shaded demeanor materializing and decomposing tonal matter. The shimmering bell-like resonances of "To Touch the Sky" writhe uncomfortably above the dark underpinnings of drone that situate themselves amongst an almost Gothic sonic backdrop infested by gargoyles and ghosts alike. It is a strange, unnerving approach that manages to paint new material with old techniques.

The filmic quality of much of this material is undeniable considering the strength of its spare and evocative mood setting. With delicate placement, each piece here finds new corners and awkward, creeping modes of the same general tone. As the previously mentioned track slips into "Ennoæ," a distant hand drum rhythm brings new color to the bleakness, adding an echoing force behind the thick swabs of blackness being worked with. When a series of pipes come in, the work begins to resemble a mini percussion orchestra, riding atop some steady drone that bobs up and down in untended black waters.

Fazio's greatest abilities lie in his decisions, as each work displays many that point toward a general caution executed in the creation of his pieces. Never one to overindulge himself, Fazio's textures and patterns service the tune far more than any egotistical self-journey. There is a meditative, almost minimalist effect to many of these, as the carefully produced sounds bounce in and out of the mix with trance-inducing effect.

Yet Fazio's signature sound seems to stem far more from Arvo Part than Reich or Glass, while also interweaving an almost proggy sense of the dramatic. "Ecquænam" may be short, but it has enough dramatic flourishes to make it an ample close to the first disc. "1/1" opens the next disc in a seeming homage to Eno's Music for Airports, a connection made stronger by the title of the disc and its close approximation to Eno's collaborative effort with Robert Fripp on "An Index of Metals." If greater convincing is required, then it can be found in the ambient structures constructed throughout, as the aforementioned proggy elements are brought to the fore and coaxed into writhing electronic sculptures that bend and sway against the skies.

The two discs represent a fine and strongly crafted construction that, though quite a lot for one listen, serves its listener well over the course of numerous re-dippings into the cold waters. That these are as beautiful as they are only makes the darkness more alluring, as the closing "1/3" certainly displays. Almost a half-hour long, the piece builds slowly through static mine fields and church bells. It may be intimidating, and it may long, but the allure of such a mystique can't be denied.

Kabyzdoh Obtruhamchi - Estcho (Stunned Records 2XCD-R)

Just in from Brainwashed:

Sometimes one disc isn't enough. Following up his stunning cassette debut last year, Russian cosmo-wizard Sergey Kozlov returns with a double disc's worth of rock demolition. Whereas the cassette fidelity of the first kept things murky and mysterious though, the two CDs here find Kozlov presenting a far clearer and more expansive concoction that unfurls the vision of a new and potent psychedelic voice.

Of course Kozlov isn't without his influences, and much of his strength lies in his willingness to incorporate the techniques of past exploratory rockers such as Parson Sound and Hawkwind, as well as '70s modal folk material, through his own lens. That Kozlov does it all alone with overdubs and loops is all the more impressive, as what results has none of the repetitive tendencies of most one man bands, instead sounding far closer to a taut and unified rock band than a one man unit likely enacting its prowess in said musician's basement.

Both discs presented are three tracks in length, each beginning with its shortest and ending with its longest piece. And I don't use piece lightly here; these are too vast to be considered songs, yet far too together and constructed to be considered jams. Call them suites if you will, but each number here is infused with pockets and pockets of ideas held together through the sheer momentum and energy of their construction.

Take the opening "Jahendra Shitzaga," for example. Beginning with an encroaching two-note bass line and drifting vocals, guitars sprawl out above before Kozlov's drums come pummeling forward. While much of this could more or less been assembled strictly through loops however, it is clear from the bass alone that Kozlov really played each part through, making it nearly impossible to decipher the kernel from which he started the track but infusing it with a live and elastic in-the-moment quality that too often is lacking when there are only two hands at work.

Those two hands sure do work however, and both Kozlov's drumming and guitar work are magnificent. Everything here seems driven primarily by rhythm, which serves Koslov well as he has a knack for a hard hitting, in-the-pocket approach that drives the work far beyond mere pummel and into the depths of a more lively experimentalism whose sights are set on the outer reaches rather than the inner head-banger. It is, it seems, this rhythmic component which is always at work. On "Kilobelnaya," the 20-plus minute closer to disc one, a modal folk grows and grows, heading toward a pulse and, once finding it, riding along it with enthusiastic delight. Some of the production here even comes across as a bit dubby, everything drifting off and into itself as each element is treated with spatial regard to everything else.

Closing disc two, "Emptuhi Campusabba" is a broad and far-reaching piece that perfectly encapsulates all that Kozlov achieves here. With odd vocal utterances that might well be Pandit Pran Nath had he endulged in a bit too much cough syrup, the work's flutes, guitar and rambling spaciness pulls from so many sources that it treads a fine line between sounding at once familiar and entirely distinctive. This is, perhaps better than anything else, as fine an indicator as there could be of Kozlov's talents. Never the imitator, Kozlov is absolutely aware of his predecessors, and using that knowledge with skill and honesty is too rare a thing.

Also of note here: the album, released by Stunned, is highly limited, as only 100 copies were made. Too often this is seen as an indicator not of limited budgets and homegrown operations, but of sub-par quality releases undeserving of greater distribution. As Stunned and Kozlov have proven repeatedly however, some of the most viable and exciting music coming out is done so on these labels, whose lack of overhead cost allows for an experimentalism that commercial requirements too often quell. Truly a find, and one which will someday surely be regarded with great reverence, so long as people are given the opportunity to hear it.

Steve Gunn / Shawn McMillen - End of the City (DNT Records / Abandon Ship Records / Abaddon LP)

Hello world. It's Friday, and that means that, officially, senior project is handed in and my life no longer needs to be engulfed in John Cage. Though as far as engulfing goes that's not half bad, but having to write and hand in the 85 pages was, well, taxing, and I'm damn glad it's over... The major plus of course is that I can get back to some semblance of consistence with regard to reviewing, which is exactly what I'm going to start doing right now, as there's a shit load of stuff waiting around for the review treatment. So much actually... I'm gonna have to get to plowing through here, but I can say that soon there'll be some more Stunned reviews up for the new batch, which is, of course, just as amazing as they always are. Plus a bunch of other stuff from an endless list of amazing labels.

Figured I'd start out with this one though, as it's been sitting on the back burners for a while despite its serving much accompaniment through the dark times that were these last few months. Sent to me by Tynan over at DNT (Sean McCann and Psyched Punch reviews on the way shortly as well), the record was co-released with Abandon Ship (Time Life plus more reviews from them on the way too!) and a new label out of California called Abaddon. Anyway, the three way action is well served by these two, as each presents one side and one piece of expansive excursions.

The first side belongs to Gunn, whose done some great solo work as well as stuff with GHQ and Zac Davis along the way. This is easily the best and most complete example of his vision yet though, subtly mixing folk guitar ramblings with drone, percussion, and an almost jammy bluegrass vibe that isn't so much about drifting through space and reaching towards the cosmos as it is about slowing the pace and reaching for the cosmos (the beverage that is...). Actually naw, that's not true, this is way more lie back in the field with scotch in hand material. The whole work takes its time too, building toward a gentle intersection of lines looped over and through one another with ad eft compositional touch. Almost a Moby Grape vibe here with the guitar angles, but far less song-based and more patient. A relaxing and rambling summer hummer that'll have you reaching for the wheat grass and the weed grass all at once. Gunn definitely has a knack for sounding like no one else, and he never subscribes to standard modes of "experimental" guitar, instead appearing for more focused on perfecting his distinct sound, and it's refreshing to here an artist with such a voice further pursuing his vision.

If Gunn's side was a slow-mo stomper for the coming months, McMillen's is the incoming Winter air which, when meshed with the warmth, is sure to cause some odd weather patterns. Not strictly using guitar, McMillen (who's played with Warmer Milks) also pulls from piano, tapes, synth, and from the sounds of it some small percussion tactics to create a weird and disparate little composition that goes through a ton of zones. One moment there's a strange synth garble below some almost Chopin-style piano flourishes (though far more aimless of course...) before getting increasingly distorted with an incoming choir of both people and bird chirps. A lot of weird spaces here, none of it is too claustrophobic which keeps it eerie without slipping into cliched modes. Some of this stuff even gets a bit dream-like, as shimmering sounds and voices meld together in building toward some distant and odd realm. Really effective stuff, and a great opposition to the single-minded side of Gunn. Despite its differences though, it feels just as carefully constructed and cared for, ultimately displaying just as effective and complete a voice as the counterpart on side one.

Nice LP, two great pieces from two dudes worth keeping an eye on. If this is any indicator, Abaddon's off to a great start and DNT and Abandon Ship are already well versed in this kind of production quality. Nice work from all parties here.