Instrumentation is almost entirely based on traditional folk instrumentation of the early mediæval period, some of which has been recreated based solely on visual and textual descriptions. Think of it as a kind of proto-folk combined with experimental archaeology. The vocals are almost entirely sung in Old Norse, but thankfully a translation of the lyrics is included. Birna is their sixth full album release.
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JP Hasson's Hasco Enjoyments is a curious affair; an evocative desert-minded one-man operation that draws on friends and fellow travellers to flesh out his solitary vignettes. JP's main instruments are baritone guitar, synth and Wurlitzer, and their sparse, measured sound seems at odds with some of the titles; opener "It's OK To Put Ketchup On A Hot Dog, If That's What You Like To Eat" is a pastoral guitar strum accompanied by fluttering flute.
Hornorkesteret have been around more than a quarter of a century. What they do is to make instruments out of reindeer antlers and moose skulls. They are mostly bowed string instruments, though drums feature also (no word on what the skins are made out of on my press release). That description is flat and dry and gives no idea of what an awesome sound they make.
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 […]
Split into six sections, Recording Rites starts as a progressive, surreptitious unfurling, the instruments gradually awakening into a half-light of squeals, brushes and percussive hints. You can sense the players swapping glances, offering opportunities, little tasters of what is to come.
Once again there is an impromptu group consisting of Yonathan Avishai on piano, Itay Sher on guitar and Yoed Nir on cello to colour in the compositions, but it is the interplay between Peter and Yosef that makes the album such an intriguing listen. Peter has clearly done a lot of travelling (he is an American who lived in Denmark but is now based in Ireland), but easily merges into new environments which makes this album a surprisingly comfortable fit for him.
I’ll admit that before this album crossed my desk I hadn’t heard of Bridget Hayden before, but I’m always willing to take a listen to anything new on the folk scene, particularly as that scene is currently experiencing something of a purple patch. Having said that, anyone who has heard of Bridget before will know that she is usually more associated with lo-fi noisy drones, reverb-heavy blues and feverish waves of doom-laden sound, so this album of traditional folk appears to be going off on something of a tangent.
After branching further out of apparent comfort zones across 2024 in terms of content and format manoeuvres, Precious Recordings pivots once again, around the turn of the New Year, with three self-set-boundary-breaking releases.
For her latest adventure, the title pretty much says it all, dialling down the wilder proclivities for something more subdued; an album that allows the four players, Elin on saxes, Tobias Wiklund on cornet and trumpet, David Stackenäs on guitar and Mats Dimming on bass, plenty of low-key interaction that embraces the listener, warming the fireplace for a battened-down experience.
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.
For those feeling forswunk and seeking to switch-off over the mid-winter break, then musical products conceived by artists in hermetic bubbles seem suitably worthy of some eleventh-hour examination, at the end of a very hectic 2024. As the three below albums attest…
What worked perfectly on a sketchy VHS at home suddenly seemed to fall flat on the big screen. It’s all about the suspension of disbelief -- being able to believe something you know intellectually is a fiction is real. Turns out it’s easier to do that when you’re not in a building whose very existence is predicated on showing people things that don’t exist, and when you’re not in the company of hundreds of people eating popcorn.
Such is the sheer abundance of output from the music world in recent times -- which feels particularly acute this year -- it can be quite hard not to miss key things, even from reliable sources. Yet, thankfully, two distinctly dissimilar albums from the trusty homestead of Gard Du Nord Records have been extracted from the review pile just in time for Freq coverage in 2024. Both remind us that the label’s quietly radical diversity remains a compelling force running in the background of the record-releasing business.
Barbican Estate are a Japanese trio now based in London and this release for Feral Child compiles four previously available tracks that were either downloads or pressed on limited cassette runs. Because of this, there is pretty good variety in the selection and with a running time of a little under half an hour, there is plenty of opportunity for them to spread their magic.
When it dropped in 1996, Zoon received a very mixed reception. It landed at a weird time, when the goth / industrial rock alliance had been forged but was still a somewhat uneasy one. On first hearing, I and many others were disappointed that what we were getting wasn’t more Fields Of The Nephilim, but what initially sounded like a softer, more introspective Ministry -- and really, what’s the point of a softer, more introspective Ministry?
Considering each of the six members plays at least two instruments, this is a surprisingly light affair; the bass sways and the guitar licks are textural delights and the slow, steady drums allow everything to slowly unfold. Vocals are dreamy in a Spacemen 3 kind of way; but sort of buried, as if frazzled by the bright lights.
On reaching its twentieth birthday, Nathaniel Cramp’s Sonic Cathedral label has arguably benefitted from a degree of nominative determinism. Whilst he has tirelessly championed the sacred tenets of shoegaze, it’s not been in a restrictive small chapel sect-like way, but in a very broad-church fashion.