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.
Mr Olivetti
765 posts
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.
Utilising an unusual collection of instruments including a hand-made French form of hurdy-gurdy called a boîte à bourdon, each construction is unique, mixing Pierre-Antoine Despatures's double bass with the scattered guitar of Benjamin Garson and the clarinet and sax of main protagonist Clémentine Ristord.
...Bureau B have taken it upon themselves to make it available again and not before time. Over eight unlikely tracks and forty intriguing minutes, Jimi takes us on a trip through his mind, paring the analogue with the synthetic in a way that was unexpected at the time, but in reality was a matter of necessity. Whatever the genesis though, what came out was strangely beguiling and due to the keenness of Tommi Gronland and Mika Vainio and their fledgling Puu label, so began a fascinating thirty year career.
Electronic / classical composer Tristan Perich has prepared the most intense vibes related album I have heard in a long time. Teaming up with Ensemble 0, they have taken three vibraphones and created a suite of glittering, polyrhythmic movements that showcase the instrument at its lightest and most fleeting; but allied to these, Tristan employs 1-bit electronics as a counter to the vibraphone sweetness.
Rafael Anton Irisarri and Benoît Pioulard don't convene too often to produce Orcas albums (this is their third in ten years), but on those occasions that they do, the time just drops away. That heat-haze waver that threads throughout the album, the soft warmth of Benoît's voice; an enunciated dreaminess that he shares with the long-lost Eric Matthews is all here as we would hope. Everything seems to shimmer as if heard through the clearest water and there is sedate sense of control that is struck with Ride-like explosions of shattered guitar splendour, showering over the lugubrious bass.
Ireland's Córas Trio tread a fine line between folk, improv and jazz; and on this, their first album, they have utilised the disparate elements of violin, guitar and percussion to create a suite of songs that with one eye on the past have their feet set firmly in the future. Their recognition of the tradition of Irish music is countered with how best to move it forward, and with such titles as "Jackie Fitzpatrick's" and "George White's", you feel that a get- together with friends down the local bar is as important an element as the songs themselves.
Feral Child are celebrating in style with their fiftieth release; in a really stylish glossy disco bag, Italian experimental adventurers Cloud Canyons have been given a makeover by Dom Keen's very own Studio Kosmische. Over two ten-minute tracks, Cloud Canyons share a cut from their recent album and one track just for this release with Dom to see what fresh magic he can uncover.
Their 2016 album release A Young Fist Curled Round A Cinder For A Wager was a startling journey through a hard Northern life, the ups and downs of the protagonist rendered in vivid detail by Johny and then instrumentally brought to life by Mark and James. It gave Rothko a new lease of life and certainly seems to have been mutually beneficial, with Mark undertaking duties in the touring Band Of Holy Joy.
Nordic travellers Stein Urheim and Mari Brunvoll have played together on and off for some years now, their delightful vocal duet a magical salve to the current malaise. Bringing on board tricky trio Moskus to add some unscripted textures to some recently recorded songs is a recipe for genre-dodging if ever there was one. The quintet knows absolutely no boundaries and over the course of this forty-five or so minutes, they play the field as if trying to break the Guinness World Record for most diverse album.
I kept imagining that what I was hearing is what might happen if somebody kidnapped the B52s, got the band drunk and started slowly torturing them. It is not so much post-punk as post-apocalyptic, with rhythm crawling from flaming wreckage, a spiral of unsteady guitar body-slamming the bass and drums as the voices taunt and tease.
The concept of a “desert sound,” if such a term truly exists, is more about a state of mind than a specific genre. It embodies a sense of vastness, solitude, and sounds stretched to the limits of the infinite. While I wouldn’t say the desert sound has always been a direct influence, the themes it represents have certainly resonated with me throughout my music.
The first thing you notice is the sweet tone of the sax but the rhythm section, if you can call it that, of guitar and drums is irrepressible. The cheeky, supple lines picked out by the guitar support the sax well, but it is all subject to moments of doubt. Playful electronics fizz around the main instruments and all these differing facets take it in turns to propel.
For Canadian-based quartet House of Gold's self-titled debut, the synth-wielding four have taken composer and drummer Isiah Ceccarelli's luminous sketches and cast them in golden, minimalist hues, mellifluous organ tones hopping and skipping around the dreamy ethereal vocals of Eugenie Jobin.
The basic premise behind this album is the use of Jo David Meyer Lysne's self-designed e-bows on guitar strings to produce naturally occurring random harmonics. As the e-bows have adjustable speeds, so the results are infinite due to other overtones created by the different resonances. There is an element of patience demanded of the player, but the end result is an absolute ever-evolving delight and when allied to Peder Simonsen's microtonal tuba, modular synth and pyrex bowls, the range of tones is pretty impressive.
...Covid restrictions kicked in and this album became a game of two halves, with ideas and basic tracks batted both ways across the ocean. To make it more interactive, both parties recorded over the same period of time and it was taken in turns who would lay down the initial ideas and who would then react to those. The album was intended as a commentary on the increasing role AI plays in entertainment and ironically, the enforced separation has played into humanity's hands.
Of that initial flush of '80s/'90s noise guitar bands, the Telescopes have done the most to leave their history far behind, ploughing an awkward distorted furrow that somehow turns up gems with every release, their bittersweet melodies hidden beneath ever deeper beneath layers of shimmering murk. I like Stephen Lawrie's attitude towards them; seeing himself more as a guardian of the name rather than it being about him. He channels ideas and uses whomever may turn up to realise those sounds.