SKELETON WASTER (self released)

This should be simple enough. The tape, housed in a typical Norelco case with black and white copier printed j-card with no information whatsoever, save for the title. Or is it the artist? Or the label. Hmmm.. The tapes opens with the combined instrumental howling of feedback and surf guitar. Interesting enough, but only lasts about two minutes.

What? Side one is done. The deck clicks and the tape stops. OK, I'll see what side two holds for me. The tape itself is void of any marking. Here we go, programmed pops and clicks meld into frantic punk guitar. Oh, now add vocals to that. More synth and clicks and a muted voice. I'm confided, bewildered...but intrigued. Of course, this doesn't hold my interest long because it doesn't last very long. Who or what is going on here? I hesitate to refer to this as a song, so I'll say this track ...just stopped abruptly. There it goes, it's back. Nope, over again. Deck clicks.

That's Skeleton Waster for ya. Pure art, part experimental, part cheesy electronica with a dash of surf and punk for good measure.

If you're the least bit intrigued (I am)- I can't help you. No credits, no label, no contact info-there you have it!

-Bob Zilli

SPACEMEN SATURDAY NIGHT “Baby Tape” C10 (Leopard Shepherd Records)

The tongue twists when trying to pronounce “Leopard Shepherd Records,” a tape label out of Burlington, Vermont, and I think they prefer it that way. They release music destined to wrap itself around your brain and tickle your primary auditory cortex while poking the anterior supplemental motor area. (Look em up.) Humor, people, humor! The gang at Leopard Shepherd loves to laugh, and they love their wordplay. How else would you explain the existence of bands like The Evil Pit Bastards, Kool-Aid Wino, and my personal favorite, Lawrence Welks and Our Bear to Cross?

Into this hurricane of wackiness comes Spacemen Saturday Night, a duo comprised of Max Weiss and Becca Hill, who have wrangled some session musicians in Nashville and produced this three-song EP, a precursor to their next full-length. (Supposedly – Baby Tape came out in 2014, and we’re still waiting, I guess.) Fitting right in to the weird pop aesthetic of their label, Max and Becca craft seasick but entertaining nuggets of joyful tunage, conjuring a mix that lands them somewhere in the Waitresses/Television Personalities cross section of their Venn diagram. Or maybe Zach Phillips’s output with Blanche Blanche Blanche, etc. That’s a recipe for success, in my book.

Even when they’re imploring “Would you please be serious for just one second?” on opener “Please Be Serious,” there’s not enough solemnity in the world that wouldn’t have me cracking a smile 20 seconds in. The 1980s “college rock” vibe shoots right through any attempts to inject their songs with too much gravity – if they were still around, IRS Records would likely be knocking on the studio door with a lifetime contract in hand. As it stands, we’ll have to wait for Leopard Shepherd (or whoever Spacemen Saturday Night ends up with) to hurry these two kooks along on their path to recording more music. Three songs just ain’t enough.

Leopard Shepherd Records

Spacemen Saturday Night Baby Tape Bandcamp page

--Ryan Masteller

D. BURKE MAHONEY / PERSONA MERCURE “Dymaxion Life Assemblage” (Hyle Tapes)

Limited edition typically implies the short production run in comparison offers consumers a chance at something special. In the case of the limited edition 50 tape pressing of D. Burke Mahoney and Persona Mercure’s split album “Dymaxion Life Assemblage”, I’m not sure how much larger the demand is.

Mahoney’s side is filled by drone heavy ambient compositions. It serves as good atmospheric listening material in the sense that it’s pleasant. But doesn’t provide much stimulation or interesting developments.

Persona Mercure opted to be a bit more variant and playful with the sounds explored on the b-side. It was still within the same realm as Mahoney’s material and the two make for good companions. Yet it also lacked any quality to compel me as a listener to care more about it.

Do more than 50 copies need to exist? Doesn’t matter. Because Paris label Hyle Tapes only made 50. So go grab a copy because you like the music and/or like owning something hand numbered from the link below.

Stream + Buy: https://hyletapes.bandcamp.com/album/dymaxion-life-assemblage

-- Roy Blumenfeld

CINCHEL “Sometimes You See Yourself..." (Notes + Bolts)"Worry" (self released)

"Sometimes You See Yourself (through the Cosmos)” C60 (Notes + Bolts)

Cosmic. Far out. These are the descriptors reserved for Cinchel’s Sometimes You See Yourself (through the Cosmos, and I cheated a little bit there, because “cosmic” is an adjective meaning “of or relating to the universe or outer space,” according to merriam-webster.com. And with track titles like “Takeoffs and Landings” and “Slightly Singing Stars” (and there are only two tracks anyway, both of which last thirty minutes), I bet you can’t figure out what this tape sounds like. Maybe I’ll end this review right here and let you go on a little internet scavenger hunt. Note your answers in the comments.

Ah, who am I kidding, I want to write more, because Cinchel, a Chicago-based recording artist, does his damnedest to approximate Musica universalis, the music of the spheres, the sonic reverberations of celestial objects. He usually does this with guitar, but on Sometimes You See Yourself, he features guest contributions from singing wine glasses, of all things! (Played, obviously, by himself.) Drones upon drones upon drones are layered and processed, and the result is nothing less than otherworldly. Where “Takeoffs and Landings” spends its thirty minutes traveling through the universe, “Slightly Singing Stars” backs off a bit, allowing the glasses to literally “sing” alone and establish their sentience within the vacuum. It’s gorgeous.

Merriam-webster.com also defines “cosmic” as “relating to spiritual matters,” and there’s nothing better to do while listening to Cinchel than engage in a little introspection. Strap on some headphones and feel wickedly small when you consider your place in the universe. Let all manner of energy wash over you as you patiently await your chance to join and become one with it. It’s pretty humbling stuff, and Cinchel taps that vein. So whether you’re interested in the rush of an interstellar blast or simply ready to return to stardust, you’ll be helped along on your journey by Sometimes You See Yourself (through the Cosmos). Cosmic, indeed.

Cinchel

Notes + Bolts

--Ryan Masteller

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“Worry” C45 (Self-Released)

Dense, dense, dense, distilled moods a la drone-ambient from Chicago’s Cinchel. Unbeknownst, this ain’t artist’s first rodeo, either, bandcamp page hosting over two dozen releases. Pretty poignant stuff here. Looked webpage up and first thing, an Eliane Radigue quote. Figures. Damn good stuff here, indeed.

Side A runs 22.5 minutes. Nearly to the second. “Her ladder was run with the love of her friends” had me near-agitatedly blissful on an eyes-closed floor-sitting. So many major overtones swirling about all at once. Warm, deep, deep lows.  Sharp, crackly highs swooping in and out, several different mids interweaving subtly, softly. Again, all majors. Bright & shiny-like here.

Side B runs same time, but much opposite in theme. Nervous or scared? Worried shitless? “A light crack in the wall”, the title. Blood coming through that crack? Ancient whisperer of death threats? Maybe just me, just too damn macabre tonight? Could see a peaceful death in the Klondike sounding like this, too. Good stuff. Damn fine stuff. Find a comfy spot, cross the legs, lower lights, turn up. Oh, yes.

www.cinchel.com

- - Jacob An Kittenplan