SETH GRAHAM “No. 00 in Clean LIfe” C14 (Orange Milk Records)

 

Seth Graham is the co-founder of Orange Milk Records, so you can be confident that he knows his way around avant-garde composition. But where many in the Orange Milk stable of artists mask their pop inclinations in wild experimentalism, in the process rendering their releases way less “pop,” Graham takes a different approach, from pretty much the opposite end of that spectrum. Instead of building a foundation on funk or disco or krautrock and spiraling from there, he lays his groundwork on the solid footing of classical music to begin his experiments.

Which totally works for him, by the way, and allows me to give my brain a much-needed workout. And god knows it’s getting awfully flabby in there, as far as intellectual capacity goes. I can only hear the Jackson 5’s version of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” so many times before it takes over my consciousness completely and I rupture something in its wake. (It’s Christmas radio season as I write this, if you hadn’t noticed.) Anyway, No. 00 in Clean Life is short, really short at fourteen minutes, and absolutely demands full attention. How are you going to let your mind wander over fourteen minutes anyway? There’s no excuse – you have to ask yourself really important questions, like, what’s Graham using as his instrumentation? Patches? Voice patches definitely, but we’ve got strings and woodwinds and other stuff cut the hell apart and sampled to maddening oblivion. But not maddening in a bad way – it’s the utter unpredictability of this tape that continues to compel me to hit rewind. I’ve listened to it a few times, and it still manages to surprise and excite.

“Fate in the Key of Raspberry” begins the tape with a horn blurp, then tensely ambients (a new verb!) its way through the speakers like the opening “fanfare” of Lost. Remember Lost? You all loved it, including its finale, just like me. Yeah, that show. But it’s a false beginning, as Graham destroys any preconceptions you may have had in those few seconds. I’ve found as I’ve listened that his use of silence within these pieces is nothing less than masterful, as he artfully places it within the short bursts of voice and synthesizer (and the other stuff, remember, I have no idea what he really used). The sound, moving around the corners of the silences, is accentuated, and every moment feels like a glittering arpeggio even if all you’re hearing is a brief snippet of tone. All of this lends a great sense of tension to the compositions, as if Graham has concocted a MIDI opera instead of your standard electronic EP. Nothing standard here. And if I haven’t mentioned it, and I know I haven’t because I can read what I’ve written, the editing is utterly top notch. I’m just … jaw dropped.

So, clean life, then. It’s not unusual to be inspired by music, as it can wriggle in to your conscious mind and settle in your subconscious, becoming part of your life in unexpected ways. With No. 00 in Clean Life, however, I think I’ve discovered the ground zero moment of actual personal renewal. I dare you to listen to “Touch--Dy,” all three minutes of it, and come out the other end the same person you were when you began it. It’s a holy experience (or at least a “Holy crap!” one), and one that makes perfect sense after completing it. I no longer feel like a novice, shuffling about on this planet with my hands in my pockets and a stupid grin on my face. No sir – I have a purpose now. I think Seth Graham is a secret Jedi master. (I just saw The Force Awakens, gimme a break.)

Orange Milk Records

No. 00 in Clean Life Bandcamp page

--Ryan Masteller

ESTROGEN HIGHS “Unfortunate Chronology Volume 1” (Elm Recordings)

 

*Puff, puff, pant, pant, wheeeeze*

[Out of breath:] Hi everybody, sorry I’m late for this funeral – it was an absolute nightmare on the beltway. We were at a dead stop for about a half hour. Who knows what the cause was. Anyway, thanks to Brother Roy for delivering the eulogy. He did a great job, didn’t he? There’s nothing punker than releasing an entire discography after your band has broken up, and Estrogen Highs, those Connecticut scamps, have surely done us all a solid by releasing this 2-tape set. And how punk was it that we’ve discussed Volume 2 first? It was totally planned.

Actually, totally a lie. I just got lazy and Roy beat me to it. But isn’t that punk in some way too?

Well, here’s Volume 1, and now you can complete your set. Or you can’t, because only 50 copies were made, and they’re all gone. But if Roy is right, the upstarts over at Night People might release it again. Wouldn’t that be just super neat?

Now, if you’ll open your hymnals, I’ll lead you in some… Hey, where’s everybody going?

Elm Recordings

--Ryan Masteller

MORTUUS AURIS & THE BLACK HAND “Strain/Galaxy” C50 (Hylé Tapes)

As an eight-year veteran of the scene, Mortuus Auris & The Black Hand (MAbH – that’s how it’s shortened), aka Peter Taylor of London, has crafted a fairly vast discography of uncompromising artistic vision. It’s not a stretch to say that he continues this trajectory with his latest release, Strain/Galaxy, on the inimitable Hylé Tapes. “Uncompromising” is definitely the adjective you want to use when describing MAbH work, because whether the music is quiet or loud, the compositions are assured, resonant, and contain an uncharacteristic depth an emotion that’s missing all too often from ambient/drone/noise artists. Here MAbH works the gentler side of this aesthetic, featuring piano, analogue synth, and tape manipulation. He has also eschewed straight improvisation for a change of pace, and although there is some live and on-the-spot revision and world-building, it’s obvious that Taylor’s favoring melody here more so than he has on previous recordings. You know what? I’m totally digging it.

Did I say “uncompromising” was a good adjective for this? Let’s also throw “expansive” into the mix, because Strain/Galaxy is nothing if not wide open, a vastness onto which you can project yourself and every thought that comes into your mind. “Strain” begins your travels with pensive accompaniment, a dawning, a realization, and an anticipation of endeavor. Waveforms activate themselves, but only when you’re ready, about seven and a half minutes in – Taylor knows when you’re ready, and does it right. The track decays into stark transmission, but ends with gorgeous piano. Twenty-five minutes of magnificence. I have to take a deep breath, because that was only one side.

The first 10 minutes of “Galaxy” is simple ghostly piano, piped in from another dimension. It disappears into nothingness, but is soon replaced by euphonic drone. By the track’s end, you’re awash in cosmic synthesizers, transcending physical existence. It’s something I strive to do every day, so I guess all I have to do is strap on some headphones and pop in some MAbH to evolve into Arthur Clarke’s space child. The wordless voices that end the tape are the angelic tones of extraterrestrial beings guiding listeners to greater planes of being. Don’t look now, everybody, I’m spirit!

You thought Mortuus Auris & The Black Hand was a black metal band for a second, didn’t you? I don’t blame you – I did too once upon a time, when I was a young whippersnapper. Hopefully by the end of this review you’re sold that Peter Taylor’s the musician for you, the man to soundtrack your future. Who needs all that noise? It’s all distraction. Strain/Galaxy is the cure for all that.

Hylé Tapes

Mortuus Auris & The Black Hand Bandcamp page

--Ryan Masteller

JSCA “ISER” (Dehef)

“Join the fun” is what the memo said. Exact start and end times, rules and regulations, to follow. The sooner you follow procedure, the sooner we’ll get on with it. They’ll all reveal themselves in time. Sonic generators won’t prevent that. And, if the language seems a little…off (ESEM JSCA ISER FASE DHF CTATIS), don’t sweat it. We’ll get through another way. The main agenda is to get a feel for the procedure. This can be done one of two ways…

“Hands-on” would be my recommendation. The instrument is already in motion. You’ve skipped rope before, right? It’s all about timing. They don’t call them teeth for nothing. Get past them, and a few other devious devices, and you’re in the driver’s seat.

You’ll soon discover you won’t have much to do behind the wheel. But remember, first you must get there. And the instrument will rip you to shreds if you don’t land…just….right. I don’t mean to suggest there aren’t other ways the instrument will rip you to shreds once you’ve arrived, but I do mean to suggest that getting in is considered to be by many the most challenging part.

Strapped in, you’re pitched a series of questions. Answer as you see fit, but beware, there are very few correct responses. Be prepared for the consequences. Severe punishment is the only way to reform the tradition of bad behavior.

(example)

Q: Did you install the orange lights?

A: Yes, we installed the orange lights. We didn’t pull it off quite the way we intended it. We screwed ‘em in late last night. It is considered proper etiquette to do a test run when no one, in particular, is looking. That being said, working in plain view, in the public sector, one cannot expect total privacy. There’s always a light sleeper stirring in bed, an insomniac walking the floor. The mouse peeks out of its peephole. There’s nothing you can do about it. So don’t even try.

…is one possible answer you might give.    see appendix A for more. 

https://clone.nl/item37361.html

-- Rick Weaver

DAVE PHILLIPS & CHRS GALARETTA “the invisible cage of comfort” C-30 (Fragment Factory)

I am offering fair warning for any listeners living in the suburbs. This applies to the most seasoned sound/noise aficionados who name their kids after Martin Rev or Alan Vega. Actually, in that case, one may notice the resemblance to “Frankie Teardrop” rather than associate the cassette output with the neighbor’s temperamental lawn mower.

What if someone with this cassette lives in a Quonset hut? What if the recreation department in that town stores all the track and field equipment in said Quonset hut, and that someone manages to take shelter among the stacks of hurdles and javelins? When it rains on that corrugated metal, how does one sleep? Is there a real need for this recording once one finds oneself living in these conditions, hiding out from Coach Franklincense and Lieutenant Effington? It ain’t easy getting around those cats. They have resources like you wouldn’t believe.

The fellows responsible for “the invisible cage of comfort” worked together and separate to make these recordings during live performances in Basel, Switzerland. Don’t assume anything here. Don’t take it personally. Take seriously the things of little importance. Don’t take seriously the things of great importance.

Fragment 33
bandcamp

--Adam Padavano

MARKARIA RHO “FUN” (self-released)

 In the vicinity of a quasar within the Komburg-Kravtsov-Lukash LQG 1 comes transmissions from an unknown entity, blaring radio signals toward Earth over a frequency that only a few so far have picked up, and none of those receiving it are terrestrial. So it goes. Earth is deprived once again of the true wonder inherent in life beyond our solar system.

Turns out that Markaria Rho is the name of the entity blasting this information, which is picked up in the form of musical recordings. I happen to be an interstellar traveler, a space pirate, a smuggler, a scoundrel, and I’ve been to Markaria Rho’s home planet, and they’ve given me a so-called “cassette tape” with the message on it. “Take this,” they said, “those Earth people aren’t getting our broadcast on their primitive instruments, so we’ve taken emergency measures and embedded it on this plastic windy spool thingy. Somebody on that planet ought to know what to do with it. We think it’s goofy looking, but what do we know.”

They described a group of musicians in Perm, Russia, who had the wherewithal and broad mindset to distribute it. And distribute it they did. Now the people of Earth know that Markaria Rho is heavily indebted to psychedelic music both old and new – Genesis, Flaming Lips, Pink Floyd, Spiritualized, Yes. They’re speaking our language, trying to tell us something. What is it? Might it save the entire planet from destroying itself? What do I care, I’m just the messenger. C’mon Chewie, let’s do some crimes.

Markaria Rho Bandcamp

--Ryan Masteller

AARUM “1-6” C17 (OJC Recordings)

I like to think that I’m a sophisticated person, so I like my music to be rigid and uncompromising in its vision and execution. That’s why I, and you, if you believe in your heart of hearts that you’re as sophisticated as I am, prefer my rock and roll to be post punk in flavor. I mean seriously, I’m not kidding – I ONLY listen to post punk. If you think that limits me as a person, then you’re mistaken, and you’ll be punished when I rule over you.

So OK, maybe Aarum don’t strictly stay all stuffed-shirt on us, but I bet they dress in skinny clothes and wear ties at their shows. Doubt there’s a beard in the bunch. But hey, I’ve been wrong before (Stamford is not in Massachusetts!), so maybe they’re a looser group of dudes than their music choice lets on. And I’d still like it. Because let’s face it – post punk also gives you license to get all wiggly too, and in the 17 minutes of awesome on 1-6, Aarum makes me want to wiggle like a wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man throughout most of it. That’s great news for the stick in my butt!

The song titles are numbered “1” through “6,” a convention that gives this tape its name. True to this minimal form, the LA five-piece lives in the low end of the EQ spectrum, featuring a lot of dirty bass and industrial-strength drum machine. The metronomic quality allows for plenty of head-nodding opportunity, and movement is definitely what these guys are going for here. Contrary to the hyperbolic shortsightedness I irresponsibly ascribed to myself in the opening paragraph, post punk can be fun, entertaining, and uplifting in spirit, three things that Aarum manages within a short time frame.

It moves by too quickly, and all of the songs are standouts, only one of them reaching past two minutes. Male vocals appear on most tracks, and a female vocal (sample?) also appears on one track, the excellent unnumbered one in the middle, which may only be on the MP3 version of the album. (Suckers!) Track “4” is also particularly badass, sounding like a bass-end-only version of Moby’s remix of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion’s “Greyhound” on Experimental Remixes. Love that song!

For fans of A-Frames, Six Finger Satellite, and Suicide, with the caveat that Aarum is a bit more lo-fi (not a bad thing), as well as Detonic Recordings out of Australia – any of you familiar with them? Aarum would fit right in on that roster. Check em out, along with the rest of the OJC stable, because I’m glad I’ve stumbled across them.

OJC Recordings

Straight to the 1-6 Bandcamp page

--Ryan Masteller