ORRA “Into the Wind” C40 (Inner Islands)
We sit with our backs to the trunk of the broad oak and breakfast
quickly in the twilight, before night falls and we must move again. “The Fog
Has a White Tongue” (side A) and we feel it begin to obscure us from prying
eyes in the near distance. We two are alone, and we have been for almost a
month now. It’s difficult to tell – determining time has become a dismal art at
best, and the sun and moon start and stop in the sky seemingly at random. We
don’t know why the world has started to shift its relationship to us; we only
know that we may be the only ones of our kind left, and as such may be the only
ones that can stop it.
And we’re being followed. We don’t know by what.
The forests hide us in the day, and we sleep when we can. As soon as it
is dark, the path beckons, and we douse our small fire and remove any sign of
our passing. The combination of the fog and the gathering dusk allows us
greater freedom of travel, but we must take care not to veer from the path. We numbered
three once, but we no longer do – we lost a companion on the wild steppe before
we came to the forest; he simply disappeared in the night without a sound. We
dare not stray now – we have come too far. The path continues on.
And then the river meets us. It is wide – we can’t see the other side,
but the fog obscures anything more than ten feet in front of us. A dinghy is
moored to a small dock, and we must risk it – we don’t know how wide the river
is, and we may not be able to ford it or cross it in any other way. An oil
lantern hangs next to it, and surprisingly ignites on the first try. We throw
our packs in the boat and cast off, rowing slowly and carefully in the evening
silence. “The Water Is Black That Licks the Boat” (side B). Perhaps this
crossing will throw our pursuer off our scent. Likely not, though – it has
followed us across greater obstacles than this.
As my companion rows, I drift into uneasy sleep. I do not dream, my
rest will be short. Indeed, I’m awakened by thunder in the distance – it’s
miles away, perhaps behind a mountain. But we still can’t see, and the night
has deepened. The fog persists. The river is wide. We cannot know when the
shore will approach. We must be watchful.
(Pro-dubbed cassettes come in clear cases with full-color 3-panel
J-cards. Orra is Jennifer Williams and Sean Conrad. “The long untold night
between scenes of folklore, and the breath and ridged back of elements
unseen.”)
--Ryan Masteller
JACQUES LE COQUE
“Hooky” (King Pizza Records)
I try to never judge a tape by its cover. However, when I
saw the cop walking by an overflowing sewer towards a guy in an embroidered
Jacques Le Coque jacket concealing a joint that spelled out the album name on
the front of the j-card, I knew I was in for a fun listen. Turns out I was
absolutely right. The music on this tape sounds like the smell of cheap beer
acquired with a fake id for a gathering of young oddball types in somebody’s
parent’s basement that has no air conditioning and is taking place on a Friday
night while the rest of the school is at the big football game. This isn’t
music for jocks and the kids at the ‘popular table’. The vocals can be a little
whiny, the guitars are soaked in reverb, and songs are dominated by themes of
angst and fun mostly had while intoxicated. Like most fuzzy garage pop, it’s
best enjoyed at a loud volume and a light heart. Tap into your juvenile side and give it a
listen.
-- Roy Blumenfeld
SAM GAS CAN
"The Nola Tape" C24
(Kerchow! Records)
Lower
than lo-fi backyard-bbq-casiotone-psychedelia amongst non-judgemental friends.
Plenty of major chord grooving and a few slower, somber psalms interspersed.
Short tape- All over the place. I reviewed this one first, excited to hear who
was playing down the street from me in a few weeks and I’m quite curious how
they’ll go over amongst the noise-worship cult that LCM (venue) caters to.
Pretty sure that if they play the Joy Division-tinged jams at the end of this
tape, they’ll leave Oakland feeling pretty damn good!
and/or
-
- Jacob An Kittenplan
RIVENER “Fires in Repose” (Twin Lakes Records)
Rivener – one who rives. That means rends, or tears apart, for those of
you who don’t speak thirteenth-century English. And no, I didn’t say “scrivener,”
so all you Melville fans out there just calm yourselves down. Paul Belbusti and
Michael Kiefer rive the meat from the proverbial improvisational no-wave bone
in this here duotic outfit, and listening to it is like being hacked with a
meat cleaver. Over and over and over. In a good way though!
Over three tracks and 33-ish minutes the duo tears into conventional
rock instruments – guitar, drums – and the prescribed methods to use them with
unhinged abandon, sometimes even bordering on the hinged, which makes this
noisy improv release an easier swallow than your average one by
toolbox-wielding psychopaths hellbent on torturing their gear. “Almz” shreds
like early Sonic Youth improvising, then devolves into late-period Sonic Youth
improvising. And it’s called “Almz,” like Rivener is handing out currency that
will better your situation, but scuzzily! (That’s why there’s a “z” in there.)
I like how “A river in her” sounds almost like a homonym for “Rivener.”
Almost.
These guys title their compositions perfectly. “An uneventful first
quarter” pretty much means your first quarter was a failure in real life. But
in Rivener Land, it means utter success, kicking out massive jams, interspersed
with periods of tranquility, then kicking out more massive jams, then more
tranquility, then JAMZ (because “Almz”), and rubbing your nose in those manky
spreadsheets like a misbehaving dog. How dare you come to me with a negative on
your P&L! Actually I don’t care. This Rivener tape rules though.
--Ryan Masteller
RADIANT HUSK “Deflation Basin” (Bezoar Formations)
This tape (which in the very beginning sounds like what
could be a laser-tag commercial as done by David Lynch) really most of the time
feels like it is electronic soundtracks and sound effects from old movies.
Listening to this throughout I envision: a scene from an old-school sci-fi
western – it’s dusk & some weird shit is going on. Or space travelers just
getting out of their spaceship & walking around a strange new alien Planet.
Or the trip-out scene in an old drug-scare shockumentary. Or probably any old
episode of the Twilight Zone.
Mellow Atari-wizard bursts double with field recordings from
alien lands (the occasional bird-chirps in one track really fill out the
ambience).
This is solid. Play it in the background or zone-out at max
volume.
Side 2 is a little more dynamic, btw, starting out less
mellow & more weirdo gloop-loop with some squishy crunchers , and ends on
an ambient chill voyage.
--Garrison Heck
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