Its rolling rhythm courtesy of Steffen Schmidt on the drums means the track almost cruises into being like a giant craft entering the Earth’s atmosphere after a long trawl through hyperspace. Echoed guitar from Sebastian Vath calls out across the solar system, as if trying to send a message to its home world. Max Leicht’s bass and synthesizer flesh out the sound, helping it springboard beyond Kuiper Belt objects to the farthest reaches of our solar system.
Experimental Irish duo Ex-Isles fuse warmly delivered and enigmatic prose poetry with wandering pastoral piano arrangements that draw you into their subtle, politically and personally motivated universe.
And of course we've got Andrew Eldritch, and while his voice may not be what it was, the stage presence is still there in fucking spades. I mean, back in their heyday he hugged the mic stand and didn't really do a great deal. These days he's a much more active presence, stalking and prowling the stage like a meth-head feline.
It is wonderful to have this kind of diverse compilation available and would be great for current fans, as well as those people looking to dip their toe in. The only problem is, on the strength of the tracks here, you would just want to load up in the entirety of The Monochrome Set's twenty-first century catalogue...
Source Of Denial — a simple, apropos punning album name — hits the air with “Kudistro”, frantic organic drumming and blaring electronics that suggest an adrenaline junkie rave-up or the klaxon wails of public emergency.
For her latest missive from the stratosphere, Norwegian guitarist Hedvig Mollestad Weejuns has gathered two illustrious sonic cosmonauts in the shape of drummer Ole Mofjell and keyboardist Ståle Storløkken. Together they have managed to squeeze six enormous tracks of varying complexity onto this Weejuns album that will leave the listener reeling.
So while I felt a little trepidation in the news that they would be performing with Sinfonia Leipzig, in New Model Army's case I was prepared to make an exception- firstly, the sheer quality of their recent material doesn't suggest that this is a band in any real danger of running out of ideas any time soon, and secondly they've never really given that much of a shit about having to validate what they do do anyone.
And then it's time for Oxbow, and as soon as they kick in I'm kicking myself for missing out on them for so long. Eugene may not actually fight anyone, but he's definitely taken some lessons from The Gospel According to Iggy (and we all know the text) -- he knows in his bones that a good frontman needs to be a bit scary, a lot charismatic and be able to carry a tune. And also -- and this is key -- to get his kit off whenever possible.
A darkened ambience of spiralling guitar that extends the experience, anchored by a pulsing undercut as chords dramatically feast, density dine in wavering cut-ins, solar-flare the imagined vastness.
Boris have been ploughing a wide and varied furrow through the field of guitar-based music for more than quarter of a century. Dave Pettit has taken on the task of listening to all of their studio albums - here is part one of a series of reports as to what he found within them.
...tonight they're playing at the Troxy off the back of their latest criticially-acclaimed release The Beggar. Well, technically off the back of their last two albums, a whole shitload of dates for Leaving Meaning having been cancelled during Covid. Which was something of a double-edged sword for Swans fans, as being unable to tour for one album meant Gira found himself writing material for another one.
Thoughtful minor key repetition is allied to rolling percussion, a background rush that evokes cars passing on wet streets. It is no surprise that the first four pieces are titled "Murmurations" and "Meditations", the minimalist scene setting of the two finds the insistence of the piano notes needled by the prodding of drums that bubble and turn with constant presence
Ueda’s metal prayer paddles aloft in rattling baptism, added to by seashells and firefly frets, her voice soaring on through, hands outstretched, as the keys and guitars jiver-jade a proggy reverie, her face clearly smiling from within the ricocheting richness of it all.
Cyclic Law A full thousand years after its inception, Gregorian plainchant had an unexpected pop cultural moment in the 90s. Enigma — producer Michael Cretu — mixed chant, dance beats, and whispery sensuality to garner unexpected chart success. Soon, recordings of Gregorian liturgy enjoyed a spike in sales. Enterprising monks got in on the act, recording arrangements of songs like The Yardbirds‘ “Still I’m Sad” and REM‘s “Losing […]
Their reconvening finds them in robust mood with a touch of romantic disillusion, their tales of frustrated love and burning desire tempered by the reality of what it is like to really feel. The fourpiece set up is augmented here by strings, voices and sympathetic production that draws a series of lovelorn vignettes from a band that are confident enough to play it extra hard when necessary and then dial back to a tear-stained throb.
don't know what the popular idea is of Sonic Youth in 2023 -- I hope they're considered as slightly more important to younger people than just "yeah Dad, we get it -- New York, 1980s... well done". There's so much timbre from the unison strings, and so much harmonic invention from the tunings that it's really worth keeping them in the canon.
With one foot very firmly in the exotica camp, thanks to the dreamy vocals of Tatiana Nova and the lightness and deftness of the horn section's interplay. Ally that to a percolating rhythm section and you have what starts out as manna from supper club heaven, a late night '50s vibe, evocative of a breezy trip or a mild sashay across a smoky dancefloor.
Nine years after their triumphant 2014 return with Decline And Fall and A World Lit Only By Fire, Godflesh still feel reinvigorated by their thirteen-year hiatus, and Purge does little to suggest this is going to change any time soon.