Over six albums in the 1990s, The Jesus Lizard probably became the benchmark by which post-hardcore four-piece guitar bands were judged and more often than not, those being compared were found wanting. With a rhythm section described by Steve Albini as the best he had produced, a guitarist whose angularity and dissonance were second to none and an apparently unhinged and obfuscatory vocalist, they had it all. Choosing to bow out in 1998 with the under-appreciated Blue, they went on to various other projects so it was received with some surprise and a little trepidation when news arrived of a new album from the reconvened group.
Of all the posthumous records that shouldn't be posthumous. It's a particular cruelty that SOPHIE left us because my feeling is that, while she was definitely 'a name' in certain circles, she'd never quite broken through. The first EPs and that first album (Oil Of Every Pearl's Un-insides) were blinders but all too little. I'll take this record, but I'd rather she was still about.
Bristol 20 September 2024 Well this is a real trip down memory lane. Not only are Seefeel on the road (the last time I saw them was 1995) with the first new material in thirteen years, but they have brought AR Kane along with them to a sold-out Strange Brew. This relatively new venue is really beginning to find its feet in the city, putting on a whole […]
The members of this singular quartet have played together in various permutations for the last twenty years, ever pushing the sound envelope; but here the angle is an acute one. Recording over one day, they based their improvisations on sounds that were generated by synthesisers programmed to listen to and respond to what the players were initially playing. An oddly circular conundrum that turns the idea of AI generation on its head and an intriguing proposition to say the least.
Sonic Cathedral Currently conducting year-long commemorations to recognise two full decades of its stoic existence, the indomitable Sonic Cathedral label is keeping us well-stocked with new releases from both returning shoegaze pioneers in new guises and their younger disciples. Enter then, the debut full-length from Simon Scott’s side-project, Three Quarter Skies, to represent the former contingent.
The first new music from Seefeel since 2010's self-titled LP is a really welcome return and although now down to a duo of Mark Clifford and Sarah Peacock with assistance from bassist Shigeru Ishihara on a couple of tracks, it sounds as though they have never been away.
The fact that the originals are included on the second disc allows the listener to sort of follow the process although Andrew's compositions really only share the lightness of mood and gentle air, choosing banjo as his favoured instrument over guitar. What we have is two thirty-minute selections that share some space but offer the listener an opportunity to take a breath, step back and allow the warm sounds to wash around you.
You probably know 33⅓ by now -- they do book-length essays about albums of interest. It's a pretty broad-ranging series - Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love has had a round, as have (arguably equally) asinine rock standards like Let It Be, Use Your Illusion, Wowee Zowee etc. That's deliberately antagonistic, but for good reason -- the series is arguably part of establishing what 'canonical' music albums are, for which it serves a useful purpose -- while also re-asserting the existing canon, it's done good work in expanding it, or recognising that the average listener has a wider idea of canon now.
Electronic composers Heiko Maile and Julian Demarre have been working together on and off for the best part of thirty years, but mainly in the world of film scores. Finally the duo has decided to release Neostalgia, their ultimate paean to the classic era of electronic music. Uncovering rare Japanese keyboards from the seventies and dipping into ideas that fondly remember the Barrons and Tangerine Dream in equal measure, but also inject elements of tension, recalling the likes of S U R V I V E in the end result, some of which wouldn't be out of place on the Stranger Things soundtrack.
Zappi Diermaier did a good job with Daumenbruch and continues to play to his percussive strengths on this latest faust fragmentation for Bureau B.
It was plain to see from reading the poisoned blood of the lyrics that the overwhelming negatives of the HIV/AIDS epidemic were at the forefront, that misinformed scaremongery that condemned thousands to a lonely and socially shunned death. The same disease her brother (who this album is dedicated to) sadly succumbed to.
Australian percussionist and composer Laurence Pike is always thinking beyond the obvious realms of percussion-based music and over the course of the last few years has been deliberating over a requiem for voice and percussion. The death of his father-in-law was the catalyst that saw this project begin to take shape and what he has finally released is an outstanding memorial that also works as a fine musical adventure.
Over the years the band's sound has changed, but has still remained uniquely ‘them’; no other band sounds like Neubauten. When I first saw them they were the sound of the dynamite exploding the collapsing new building -- now they are more akin to the dust and debris falling to the ground in slow motion.
The downtime and lack of contact between them has not diminished their rapport and perhaps surprisingly the Walk Thru Me sounds as if it could have been recorded a few years after 1999's One Part Lullaby, but then their sound always did stand outside of any prevailing trends.
Although some of us have been belatedly burrowing intensively into rich sonic seams from New Zealand’s far corner of the world – most notably bands of a certain vintage connected with the extended Flying Nun Records family -- there’s a lot we still don’t know enough about. Enter then Vor-stellen to help deepen this discovery-making, an intriguing still-new ensemble to be kept pace with, in real instead of retrospective time.
Dedicated to the memory of Brian’s dear friend Trish Keenan of Broadcast, this project began as a coping strategy for the overwhelming feelings of loss her tragic death caused. Never intended to be heard by anyone and too emotionally painful to re-listen to, these tracks were put aside for years until Brian returned to the project afresh and finally completed this touching memorial.
Scottish-Portuguese sound artist Shhe follows up 2019's self-titled album with a long, slow suite of pieces constructed with sounds gathered on a residency in Iceland. The tranquillity and peace of the fjords very much inhabits this unassuming but engaging album, the four sections rising above ambience with drones that lift the listener, giving a bird's eye view of a landscape lost under a frozen carapace.
Two very different albums from musical adventurer Matthew Bourne showcase his extraordinary approach to the keyboard in all is myriad forms. It doesn't seem that long ago that the two volumes of his collaboration with Shiver were dropped and now there is a further release from Discus, as well as a follow-up to the limited Dulcitone release on Leaf.