A triangulation of talent, the '70s library album cover art repetitively alludes to a collaboration between three members of Bristol’s No-Wave wrecking ball, Repo Man (Liam McConaghy - guitar / Anthony Brown - bass / Bojak - sax, violin, vocals) collectively labelled Repo; and two members of Exeter’s free jazz trio Capri-Batterie (Matt (K) Lord on tenor sax and bass and Kordian Tetkov on all things percussive and squeaky), an extra contingent that swerves tastily in there, temples the tension with extra perspective.
Michael Rodham-Heaps
452 posts
If you like hazy guitar improv, this is solid. Four lengthy crafted excursions dusted in a ghosting of late ’60s psychedelia and geologically pinned to a Neolithic underground burial complex in Malta.
In scope and ambition, Alamut is a remarkable piece of work, performed live at a former Crusader castle in Ljubljana in 2022. Involving the RTV Slovenia Symphony Orchestra, the Human-Voice Ensemble vocal group from Tehran, the Gallina Women’s Choir and AccordiOna, the canvas full and sonicly rich, expertly conducted by Iranian-born Navid Goharib and of course all superbly subverted by Laibach.
Tocsin polished up the pared-down economy of Fetisch, broadened its expressive spectrum and increased its atmospheric pose. Producer Mick Glossop and engineer Felix Kendall did a great job of shifting the emphasis of Xmal Deutschland's sound, opening up the symphonic space and so elevating the drama. "Mondlicht"'s swooping dynamics are captivating, its pulmonary pull mining some grandiose theatrics as those heralding guitars unleash a siren spiral of voice, acidically rupturing, reined back in repeated refrains.
The arresting hugeness of a projected bird's eye breaks the darkness of the stage as Wardruna’s harmonising voices rise to a regularised patter, punctured by a defiant shell-like crunch. A sound that grows on a waltzing mirage becoming equally huge as the silhouetted band is suddenly thrown into illuminated focus.
Having totally missed their recent Bristol outing, I’m glad Upset The Rhythm are now offering a tantalising taste of Earth Ball in action. A duo of live cuts, each gig filling a whole side each.
Boy did Laibach bring the drama … the first third of the show cherry-picking their back catalogue, starting with a mangled noise-fest with lots of slanted perspectives and controlled chaos. A scampering scrapyard of debris and screeching guitar, the drummer coming out from behind his kit to supply an eerie air-raid drone from a spinning air-pipe as the keyboardist’s chords conjured a host of bent up, shattered shapes.
Stereocilia was here for the launch of his latest album Phases, but joining him on the bill was Deb Googe of My Bloody Valentine and Thurston Moore's band fame, and local soon-to-be legends Ex Agent.
Those former Yugoslav industrials certainly hit vital back then -- trumpet fanfares, pounding drum falls, those rousing anthem repeats; even today it’s still sonically captivating, so much so I didn’t think it needed a rework, but Laibach definitely saw potential in them old bones.
Pulled back from obscurity by label honcho Alan Gubby, these choice selections from the long-defunct Arcadia Cosmos sound library excite, get in your head, inspire. Sounds that inhabit their titles and more, gift-wrapped in the spiky jiver of a monochromed power station.
Bristol 10 January 2025 Support for The Jesus Lizard‘s eagerly awaited trip to The Fleece in Bristol came from that city’s own purveyors of mutant post-punk hip hop, Lice. Having not seen them since their extraordinary set at the Bristol Psych Fest back in the summer of 2017 where it was like The Beastie Boys fronting The Birthday Party. Since then, they seem to have picked up a […]
Whirring the hinge between this world and elsewhere, Téléplasmiste's Of Nature And Electricity’s’ compass points are plentiful -- exploratory. Gently coaxing themselves into the uncharted, a softly rounded trip into the infinite.
Capturing the atmospheric flavour of an ancient Cornish burial site, Slomo’s fifth album is a mid-winter’s dream, ditching the well-trodden refuge of dark ambience in favour of something less menacing, more nuanced.
This debut from French trio eat-girls is a bountiful beast as the dark-noted dirge-tastic drag of the opener ("On a Crooked Swing") testifies. The male / female coin-flip of vocals slinking over the tightly hooked half-lit gloom. The mournful and whispery Malaria-like creep of "Unison" snaking all seductive in the ear, that nocturnal prowl of guitar lobe mauling as lyrics overspill, tip noisily to retract beautifully back on this lush lullabied afterglow.
In a noisy, over-stimulated world, The Necks' new album Bleed provides the perfect antidote -- an intimate homage to quietness and what can be done with the emptiness between.
My head caught in the hazy drift of "Coast" and the questioning romance of the opener, "Nobody Loves You More". Kim Deal's unique vocal style holds you in a close-knit spell, then slams you into the party sparkle of "Crystal Breath". What a gem of alt-ness, roasted on paunchy fuzz and glittery abstraction as her words stitch their freestyle sense.
Massive drums, double bass and a shiny grand piano meant The Necks were crammed into what remained of the stage. A physically crowded space that suited the band’s intimate interlock.
Man, the energy was insane — breathtakingly direct, leading to me totally losing it (maybe to the gritty pump of “Devoción”?), my body all salvo-daggered, head-flinging abandon as the electronics twerked and tasered. My kinda dance music for sure ...