SLOW GIRL WALKING
“Gloo” (self-released)




 There’s ice on the roads, ice on the fields, ice across Canada, and Edmonton, Alberta’s own Slow Girl Walking, clothed in their finest wintry garb, has hunkered down, likely in a small, confined space, heated only by a crackling fire, and recorded Gloo, their self-released cassette EP. Is the term “gloo” meant to indicate a sort of cohesion, perhaps among the songs, or is it short for “igloo,” where – hey! That’s probably the small confined space where they recorded this thing. It makes all kinds of sense.

However you take your made-up words, Gloo is a dream-pop/shoegaze fetishist’s new favorite trifle. Like Swervedriver, Ride, Swirlies? Got you covered here. How about Lush, Slowdive, My Bloody Valentine? Yep. All these and more figure into Slow Girl Walking’s inspirational oeuvre, and make for a delightful listen. The tape is short, five well-crafted nuggets of noise and gauze, melody and shimmer. There’s also only three guys in the band – Matthew, Brett, and Andy. Can you imagine such a vivid sound coming from three people? I can’t.

There’s a remove here, a clinical distance suggested in the iciness of the tape’s cover, and the visual cue is helpful in immersing yourself in the music. It’s crisp, clean, and freezer-burnt in all the right ways. My prescription is to put on some headphones and get ready to see your breath as you exhale arctic air – the songs will do that to you. Who knew all the heat in your body escaped through your ears? You do. Well, you do now, anyway.



--Ryan Masteller

DRY SUMMERS
“Good Enough Is Great” C25
(Sophomore Lounge)




Dry Summers are a pretty good rock band from Louisville, Kentucky. They’ve got that whole Sonic Youth meets Pavement rhythm vs. lead guitars thing down PAT, not to mention the requisite, effortlessly-blended off-key slacker vocals. What Dry Summers brings to the table here are some carefully crafted keyboarding skills, from background textures to supporting chords to lead moog lines. The lyrics, like the vibes, are also fun and beg singing along where dancing isn’t the focus. All in all, a pretty good tape to blast with the windows down.

and/or


- - Jacob An Kittenplan

BERMUDA TRIANGLES
"Insectiod"
(Chaotic Noise)




Hmmm. Here we have Bermuda Triangles. Not one, mind you, but plural. A three piece consisting of Sean Cassidy (saxophone, junk percussion, effects), Jason Hodges (drums, electronic and junk percussion, synth and vocals) and Bill Porter (drums, drum effects, junk percussion, backing vocals) who recorded this seven track tape live, on July 15th, 2015.

This must have been some performance to witness, as Bermuda Triangles is best described as art punk/noise with a heavy dose of attitude. The two percussionists lay down a barrage of beat while the sax and vocals weave in and out owing not just a little to both Devo and late sixties free-form Jazz. Song titles like "Mister Transistor", "Sinkholes" and the title cut allow little hint as to the depth of sinister punk/art that awaits the listener.

Unlike the trap that similar ensembles often fall into, the songs do not all sound alike and with limited instrumentation they manage a captivating soundscape that makes me wish this all-too-short collection would carry on a bit longer.


Interested parties should leap forward to www.cnproachmotel.blogspot.com for ordering info.

-- Bob Zilli

H TAKAHASHI
“Sea Meditation”
(Entertainment Systems)




So in case you didn’t know (and why would you?), I have a four-and-a-half-year-old son, and he’s going through an Octonauts phase right now. For those unfamiliar, Octonauts is a cartoon that takes place under the sea. There’s a polar bear, a cat, a penguin, an otter, a rabbit, an octopus, and a bunch of turnip-like creatures called vegimals that live in a high-tech scientific underwater observatory, and they go on various adventures and meet all kinds of different creatures. Kids learn a lot of good stuff. As an adult, I recommend it – it’s a surprisingly engaging kids’ show.

H Takahashi’s Sea Meditation is obviously meant as a paean to the ocean, and it’s carefully crafted as a simulation of the solitude one would feel if immersed in the briny deep. No adventure here – unless you consider the activity of your mind while alone adventurous. In a sense it is, actually – I keep wanting to use the noun meditation in this review as if Takahashi hasn’t already made it clear in the release’s title that he’s going for ruminative qualities, but the deeper inside your mind you get and the more you visualize the amazing and mysterious landscape of the sea, the better you’re able to discover new and exciting things. About yourself, about our planet, whatever – Takahashi’s music takes you there. Sea Meditation is a cassette-length submersion experience, and it will make you appreciate life – not just ocean life, but life everywhere – just a little bit more.

Imagine if Mark Mothersbaugh’s Life Aquatic score was ambient instead of quirky, and instead of a jaguar shark, ol’ Steve Zissou and Esteban quietly observed the vast array of organisms around them as they hovered tranquilly and drifted with the currents. Or imagine if the Octonauts themselves had a day off, and they didn’t have to rescue a crab or a sea cucumber or something from some sort of peril – perhaps they enter a cave filled with wildly bioluminescent creatures and just look at it for a while. Sea Meditation is these things, and oh so much more. For naturalists and dreamers alike.




--Ryan Masteller

ARKLIGHT “Vows” (Fall Break Records)




 I am a lifelong indie rocker. I can live with that, even though I haven’t been a full-fledged, card-carrying member for several years now. But when I was on, I was on: I essentially listened to nothing but indie or its offshoots throughout my college years, well into my late twenties. Pavement was my favorite, still is. Silver Jews were up there. Beat Happening existed. My point is, if you like any of these bands, as I did, and do, you should be ready for Arklight’s Vows.

This Brooklyn band has consistently popped up on my radar over the past year or so, releasing a few things here and there, some of which I covered right here on good old #CASSETTEGODS! It was all in fun, made with a bracing sort of garagey-ness and delivered with a brashness that belied the players recording prowess. Vows continues down the same stylistic path, but perhaps with a nod the seriousness of the title (a “vow” constituting a “solemn promise,” one not easily brushed off), the songs are more somber and sober. The Kolm brothers (and Monsieur Kostaras) are growing up, right before our eyes!

Vocals are still very much in the territory of Calvin Johnson/David Berman, and I like that. It’s an unusual timbre and one that’s not easily pulled off with success. Here they lend Vows some extra weight, as if the deepness reflects heaviness of spirit. Who’s to say there isn’t? Not me. Everything warbles and lilts. Melancholy pervades. “We sing out of tune” is extolled on “For the Better Sometime Soon,” as if there’s no strength left to sing properly. The more I listen to it, the more I think the Silver Jews comparisons are the most apt – there’s a dusty Nashville-ness that pervades this tape, as if the floor of the recording space was perpetually covered in sawdust and peanut shells.

And it all works, fundamentally, with heads low and guitars slung – I imagine the Arklight fellows sitting as they record this one. The tunes are wise beyond the years of their creators. Vows is a keeper, that’s my solemn promise to you.





--Ryan Masteller