REAL YAWNY / WICA INTINA “Discussing an Earful of Earth Nostalgia” (Sticker Gitters Collective)

Earth nostalgia can go two ways: focus on the natural, organic elements – the people, the plants, etc. – or focus on the technological, meaning the progress that humanity has made in various areas. No matter what you’re focusing on, if you’ve got nostalgia for Earth, you’re no longer there. You’re gone – the planet is likely a desolate, uninhabitable wasteland in the rearview of your rocket ship, and the robots have staged a mutiny.

So what happens if your reflection occurs on a cassette tape, a piece of tech that firmly bridges the past and the future? Your head explodes, that’s what.

Nah. But let’s “discuss” this “earful of Earth nostalgia,” shall we? Real Yawny lands on the electronic spectrum, completely, hurling ten lo-fi electronic/techno tracks in our direction. Yeah, it sure sounds as if the Yawnmeister wants to join our new robot overlords by making music that would appeal to their innermost circuits, but there’s no way he can prevent his humanness from infiltrating the tunes. That’s a good thing, and once again, a gap is bridged – people using electronics to make electronic music to make people to, or something like that. Sure, increase the population, why not? We’re in space here, we need a colony. At any rate, Real Yawny’s groove sensors are processing on overdrive, and that combined with the tonal rough edges result in a nifty side A that’s easy to get lost in. I could live without the vocals on “Light Maps,” but that’s a minor quibble.

Wica Intina’s holed up in the back like Captain America in SNOWPIERCER, plotting, always plotting. He wants nothing to do with the technology, and in fact the retreats in the exact opposite direction, internalizing his humanness and expressing it through an acoustic guitar. His compositions are insular, recorded quickly to four-track (if that). We’re familiar with Wica, and we are unsurprised at this turn. What we do like is his choice of cover tunes: “Totally Confused” by Beck, which appeared on GOLDEN FEELINGS (which I have) and the “Beercan” single, and the resulting production is just as canned as the GF original (which is a good thing). Speaking of canned production, “Smothered in Hugs” by Guided By Voices is represented here, a BEE THOUSAND tune (also a record I’ve written about in the very distant past and I’m hesitant to link to). It sounds like a ONE FOOT IN THE GRAVE outtake in Wica’s hands, exactly what he was going for (likely).

So here’s your soundtrack. The revolution against the robots to save what’s left of humanity begins now. Or if you just want to listen to a cool tape with two very different sides, you can do that too.

Wica Intina
Sticker Gitters Collective

--Ryan Masteller

RESTAURNAUT / WICA INTINA split "That Too Long Hour Never Dim Enough To Sleep" C62 (Kerchow Records)

Unapologetically Raw and Simple, Nick Dolezal AKA Restaurnaut AKA head honcho over at Kerchow Records in Chino, CA draws his power from being both intimate AND anthemic, kicking out simple yet freakfolktastic ditties that cannot be ignored, with all the candor, Lo-Fi aesthetic, and insight of early Modest Mouse demos and Daniel Johnston! His half-hour side is captivating, inspiring, and not to be missed, if the earliest Devendra Banhart tickles your fancy. I know I’m referencing a lot of others, but those others were pretty great, and so is this, only, like, y’know, different.

Side B, Wica Intina, is almost the reverse. Though equally as intimate and honest, it comes off like your best friend pouring their heart out (via folk guitar) after a long, monotonous day. It’s real. Depression is rough. Being real is rough. And depressing. As is this side.

If you’re lucky enough to grab this tape before it sells out, you’re in for a wild ride, and then a sobering one. Nice pairing Kerchow!!! Comes with a fancy lyric sheet, as shown below.

https://restaurnaut.bandcamp.com/album/that-too-long-hour-never-dim-enough-to-sleep

-- Jacob An Kittenplan

PUMPKINSEED / WICA INTINA “Songs from a Wooden Bell, Vol. 1” (Meliphonic Records)

Midwestern dustbowl vibes where crops were king, once, and now strip malls rule life and choke soil. That’s how it is in Tennessee, home of Meliphonic Records and its stable, offshoots like vines from a sturdy trunk desperately trying to reclaim some semblance of history. Offshoots like Pumpkinseed, aka Daniel Gardner, and Wica Intina, aka Dakota Brown, neither content to be forgotten fragments cast by global tremors. It doesn’t matter how loud they shout it, or whether they shout at all – they’re still cogs in the machine, whether they like it or not, as we all are, but they’re much better at making us feel OK about it. There may even be some glimmer of hope there after all, in the end.

Immediately calling to mind lo-fi mavens Barlow and Pollard but settling into a world-weary folk tableau recalling Dylan, Guthrie, and even Leonard Cohen, Pumpkinseed and Wica Intina are a perfect match for one another. And yeah, Songs from a Wooden Bell, Vol. 1 is 1960s American Dream-y to its core, which of course is cast in the harsh light of what passes for optimism these days. Meaning it’s pretty fucking un-optimistic out there in good old 2016. Pumpkinseed is the bedroom tape rocker, drenching his recordings in hiss and moving about from one lo-fi style to the next, even stumbling into the 1970s a little bit on “Dickey’s Fever Dream,” a little CSN action amid the GBV worship. It’s good worship, and he even manages some found-sound cutup work on “Yanga Yanga.” And like Pollard, Pumpkinseed is a middle finger against the darkness and a Bic lighter raised high in solidarity with the young, ready masses. Take it over, baby.

Wica Intina, fresh off work with his band Sheep Bella Tine, is more deliberate, more intimate, and more willing to embrace melancholia. It suits him, as his lengthy ballads dissipate like wistful vapor in the ears of the longing. Did things really used to be so simple? Is the absence of that simplicity what’s driving us all closer and closer to the edge of the cliff? Taking a step back, breathing, communicating, communing – Wica Intina absolutely invites these activities. He stretches his lengthy tracks like Dylan, telling stories about other people and bringing them to life. He reminds us that Tennesseans are people too, not just specks on the ground as viewed from airplane windows by people on their way to bigger and better cities. Those passengers forgot that we’re all from the same place, when it comes down to it.

These two musicians are at the forefront of a burgeoning Tennessee music scene, and Songs from a Wooden Bell, Vol. 1 is as good a first impression as you’re gonna get. But hey, don’t just take my word for it – Meliphonic has a fairly deep catalog, so check the rest out too.

Meliphonic Records

--Ryan Masteller