6 July 2019 Bristol This year, the Stolen Body-curated Astral Festival has chosen to spread itself over three of Bristol’s city centre venues. Thankfully, the Rough Trade sweatbox, the rather charming restaurant/bar at the Lanes and the grandiose SWX are all within a stone’s throw of one another. Unfortunately, the timing of things does mean that it is impossible to take in all bands, and considering it is […]
Michael Rodham-Heaps
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Disciples The wind-caught piano on the first track on His Name Is Alive’s All The Mirrors In The House daggers a smooth spectral draw that dissipates into “Lliadin”’s sustained shimmer. Its autumnal flow pin-heads multi-tracked murmurs, eating into the unaccompanied fret repeats
Bristol 19 June 2019 Audience-surrounded, EP64 kicked an intense noise. Dali’s word-tangled molasses kicked around by tribal drums and hawking sax in one of the most energetic performances I have witnessed from them
Faustus It’s not often you encounter a record as wonderfully diverse and sonically satisfying as this one by relatively unknown (to me at least) London duo Daona. Every single moment of this gem sparkles with conviction, eats into your consciousness
Touch What a gem of electro-acousticness David Knight and Stephen Thrower have created for their second UnicaZürn release on the Touch label. The weeviling warmth of the orchestration on the first track is erased by a Steve Reichian slip, snipping signatures ripped through with corkscrewing curls, tapering manatees full of planetary perfume
House Of Mythology David Tibet’s been a busy man, undertaking lots of extra curricular activity to rich rewards by collaborating with the likes of Zu and Youth, now he’s dancing on the cuneiformed candy of Mesopotamia with the likes of Andrew Liles and an unknown commodity of the Shaitan-Boy — who may just be a figment of both their fevered imaginings.
Constellation The first side of Mise En Abyme milks a soft melancholic as different voices are set alight to a rhythmic jumble sale of textural glitches and slipped-disc percussives as Jean Cousin, aka Joni Void’s second outing gets knee-deep into the virus of modernity.
Pelagic Suitably sepia-soaked, part one of Årabrot Speciale‘s Die Nibelungen stares off into the mysterious distance, its choral eddies peripherally chased in phosphorescent shivers. A discordia of wormy animates vapourising on an imagined horizon as malevolent motifs creep the architecture. Signatures that crystallize, dance skeletal, then are snatched away by this trembling expectation
Hallow Ground Loving the minimal murmur of Distant Animals‘ Lines LP, featuring one lengthy excursion per side, the first taking a more Éliane Radigue-like approach. “A Pure Drone” is an unsullied flat-line ripple stretching a heat-grazed horizon of the type La Monte Young still surfs
London 6 April 2019 The faded Tudor grandeur of the venue, set in the urban sprawl of Hackney, was a fitting place for tonight’s entertainment, and its small performance area just added to the night’s intimacy. The second night of celebration for Daniel O’Sullivan‘s Folly LP release (part of The New Arts and Music Programme at Sutton House)
Dur Et Doux As your brain tries to get a grip on the multi-perspectives of the MC Escher-like arts, you’re pummelled by the intensity of the vibes on Ni‘s Pantophobie (the fear of everything) LP. I don’t know much about Ni, but I like the souped-up King Crimson metal-headed math rock surprise they are welding here. Pantophobie is a head-banger’s dream of accented angulars and jigsaw shifts, the […]
Silken Tofu An improvised collision between W (James Welburn) and V (Juliana Venter), the first side of which (“Concave”) goes straight in there with vocal exorcism. A cathartic off-the-bone presentation that has Juliana Venter shrieking satisfyingly into the void.
One Little Indian The beats might be more machine tooled than salvaged these days, but Test Dept still haven’t lost any of that rage or taste for addressing injustice. This return to form is snarling at the usual subjects, the dirty end of capitalism and its bankrupt ideologies.
4AD Sadly, I wasn’t old enough to see Rema-Rema in the flesh — it was only as a result of being an avid 4AD label nut that I spied this curio in the mail-order catalogue back in the early 1990s, an EP that almost instantly became one of my treasured finds. A squealing black heart of a surprise that I can now some forty years later finally sample […]
Editions Mego Thighpaulsandra‘s voice is all over this one, words full of shady vampirics and sliding context, your imagination stitching the suggestion as they suck in the scenery around them. He’s a great story-teller too (I reckon he has a lucrative future in audiobooks for sure), fleshy and descriptive, the narratives noir-flowering a certain flamboyance
Conspiracy International Sonically, Cosey Fanni Tutti‘s Tutti LP surfs in there with smeary cornet across tight electronic zip-wires. The canvas is full of Torvill and Dean ice slides and squishy purcussive skids, ingredients that send your brain in prism(ing)multiples.
three:four A rusty gate harmonica to vocals crazy paving the interlocking elastics. Loving the wonky symmetry of Orgue Agnès‘s debut LP release A Une Gorge, a perfumery of geometric criss-cross and percussive prowl bristling your bonce.
Important Éliane Radigue‘s Geelriandre / Arthesis loves time, luxuriates in it. Its frequencies gradually slip its grasp, or your perception, in that slow luxuriating bend to the goods that eats into your consciousness, subliminally cuts, the eerie exponentials creeping up on you like the textural dance of a Max Ernst painting. Solemn, solar, tumouring an odd timbre that percussively curls on tight jewels of Cageian prepared-ness