For Buried Treasure‘s eighth anniversary, head honcho and all around good guy Alan Gubby has corralled a veritable feast of artists and fellow travellers to lay down some tracks in celebration of what must be one of the most eclectic rosters around.
Plenty of familiar faces have stopped by to lend a hand and Vert:x kick off the party with their synth hypnotics bundled onto an underground train and charging off in a clean arc of motorik movement. There is an irresistible momentum that is thwarted by the queasy sax and simmering fury of Revbjelde‘s “My Anger”. The unhinged sax is a mirror to the latent urges and drifts sinuously in the wake of the voice. It is quite an opening salvo from which the jazz- tinged drum workout of Bob Downes‘ “Move And Counter Move” explodes, dragging the dirty discordant loop fantasy of Howlround‘s “Wormeye” in its wake.
Neil Sparkes‘ “Ascension Dub” is one of those moments of solitary beauty that casts a lazy eye across the languorous city. His spoken word observations have a darkness which is still somehow infused with light. Quite a difference to the dark industrial clatter of Rebvjelde’s second outing; obscure sci-fi imagery “chewing on some fleshy morsel” vying with spiky, possessive guitar clashes. There is drowsy ambience infused with flickering threats coming on like the soundtrack to surveillance camera footage on Drew Mulholland‘s “Highbank Gate 7am”, while Ubiquitous Meh! throw in post-punk bass and bossa rhythm, its clarinet sound evoking something Crammed Discs may have released in their halcyon days. It is a dizzying collection, the distorted ambulance chase of Zyklus‘s “Another Flood” lurching into the surprising acoustic folk of Black Albumen‘s “King Of The Plants”, highlighting Hanna Ylitepsa‘s lilting vocal. The unexpectedly jaunty breakdown is a palette-cleansing treat that is a world away from Aum Taepper‘s slightly disturbing new beat workout, its relentless repetition eventually descending into a pastoral found soundscape which leaves the listener scratching their head at what possible other avenues this sampler can explore.A game of Pong goes looping rogue in the radiophonic workshop with Jed St Christopher and the odd Haig Fras somehow manage to evoke the life of somebody living in the eaves of a concrete underpass. The torpid imagery of “Sea Pen”, with its wet traffic noise and slow focus, is fantastic and gradually makes way for the funky post-punk Tongues Of Fire, who revel in the final clarinet-infused groovy horn jam that draws “Soundings” to an end. Siedler are searching subterranea with echoing mystery, while the final Revbjelde track is a dirty echoing sax and post-industrial drumscape.
The inventiveness never lets up here and not one track bears resemblance to the next. The sequencing is great for that and squeezing twenty tracks on to the CD means that nothing outstays its welcome, but rather would have you diving for the Buried Treasure Bandcamp page to track down long players of most of the artists. There is a touch of Bad Seeds swagger in Wolfen‘s “Scars” with a touch of New Orleans in its bluesy vox and strafing guitar. Zyklus drags us onto the dancefloor with the hyperactive rhythmic pulse of “Ex-y Dred”, its sub-big beat blast an infectious barnstormer that lays the way for the final piece, an abstract glitch experiment from friendly Freq face Philippe Petit that layers breathless voices with indistinct feelings.It is an open ended conclusion that draws the listener back to the beginning for another trip round without missing a beat. The variety of sounds and levels of intensity on Octocorallia make for a really satisfying and welcoming introduction to the world of Buried Treasure and affiliated voyagers. It is a Bandcamp bargain and well worth the effort.
-Mr Olivetti-
